#nine weeks of summer
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Written for a @astrangersummer.
Save it For a Rainy Day
Week #9 Prompt: Where It All Started | Word Count: 1950 | Rating: T | POV: Wayne | Characters: Wayne, Eddie, Steve | Pairings: Wayne & Eddie, Steddie | CW: Eddie's Rough Start in Life, Parental Neglect, Language, S4 Canon | Tags: Good Uncle Wayne Munson, Taking in Eddie, Eddie and Steve Meet as Kids, Haircuts and Swimming Playdates, Fix-It, Happy Ending
He's so little.Â
That's the only thought Wayne has, over and over again. He's so goddamn little. With lank, limp hair, all snarled and knotted, matted. Unkempt. Dirty. Dark circles under his sullen eyes. He's small, but at the same time he looks every bit of a hardened fifty-five, at all of seven-years-old.
He didn't look like that the last time Wayne had seen him.Â
And Wayne is sick that he's deteriorated to this point, in just two years time. At five, he had been a happy, wild boy. All snips, snails and puppy dog tails.Â
With a loud mouth and big, round cheeks.
Al swore he was fine, that they both were, on the rare occasions when he'd call after losing Betts and Wayne had believed him. Until the social worker was on his front steps, Eddie standing there, head bowed, so utterly serious.
"Do you want me to find someone to try and comb it out, or would you like to shave it and start over?" Wayne asks, and Eddie just shrugs. Still not talking, still buried deep within his shell.
Wayne's not going to decide for him. Thinks it should be his decision, but knows it can't stay like this either, even if he doesn't have it in him to start dragging a comb through it. He knows that'll hurt, and he can't do it to Eddie. Won't.Â
"When you decide, you let me know," Wayne says, hoping he'll decide sooner rather than later.
It takes three days, but Eddie finally comes up behind Wayne on the couch, and taps him on the shoulder, and makes the motion for shaving his head.
"Okay, I'll get you an appointment," Wayne tells him, because he wants to do this right, and not leave Eddie with the memory of Wayne shaving his head in the kitchen of the trailer. Maybe that's cowardly, but he'd rather push that off on a professional.Â
Eddie is sitting on the little wooden board the hairdresser placed over the arms of her chair to make him taller, the hydraulic lift hadn't even been enough to get him where she needed him, and he somehow still looks little.
She gently, oh so gently, takes the clippers to Eddie's hair, shaving off strips, as she talks him through each pass. Eddie seems fine with it, there are no tears, but no smiles either.
This was the right call. A beauty shop, not a barber. Wayne's own barber does just fine on his own hair, but wouldn't have been so delicate with Eddie, and right now, Wayne's pretty sure his boy needs a soft touch.
There's another boy in the chair next to Eddie, probably the same age, but he's so much larger, and more animated. Studying every move of her hand as she barely trims anything off his thick head of hair. He doesn't need the booster board, even if Wayne suspects he's younger than Eddie.
"Nanny Louisa, can I get my haircut like that?"
She laughs, "Steve. Your mother would have both of our hides. We all have very strict orders for your haircut and you know it."Â
"Aw, man, it looks so cool," Steve whines, and if Wayne isn't mistaken, that's Richard Harrington's boy. And if that's true, there's no way he's leaving here with his head shaved, that's for damn sure.
And then, as if it were a miracle, Eddie smiles. It's small, faint, barely there. But it's a goddamn smile, aimed at the other little boy that is watching as Eddie's hair falls down all around his chair and onto the floor.
The Harrington boy doesn't win, and only gets a trim, but Eddie has straightened up on the board. Not nearly as withdrawn as he was when they entered the shop.
Maybe shedding all that damaged hair feels like a new start. Wayne sure hopes so, because they're gonna need all the help they can get.
When he's all brushed off, and the plastic cape removed, the hairdressers each hand Eddie and the Harrington boy a coupon for a free ice cream cone at the shop down on the corner. It's a perk for being good in the chair, and they both earned it today.
Eddie clutches his coupon in his little hands.
"Do you want to save that, or get it now?" Wayne asks, and Eddie looks torn. That isn't the look Wayne wants on his face, so he quickly amends his question, "Or both? You can save your coupon for a rainy day, and we can still get ice cream now," Wayne offers.
"Really?" Eddie says, looking so hopeful, and it's the most beautiful word Wayne's ever heard in his whole life.
"Really," he reassures, "you save it until you want to use it. And I'll buy, today."
"Can we go get ice cream, too, Nanny Louisa?" the Harrington boy asks, and she looks reluctant, but finally nods. She couldn't let him get his head shaved, but ice cream, that's probably a much more doable request.
Wayne sits at the table with Louisa and makes the world's most uncomfortable small talk, as the boys sit at another table together, and jabber back and forth. Well, Steve is doing most of the talking, but Eddie, his sweet Eddie, has said more in the past thirty minutes than he has in the past week, and Wayne doesn't care who has gotten those words out of him, he'll be grateful.Â
When the cones are gone, both boys appear at the side of the table, "Eddie's coming over tomorrow to swim," Steve announces.Â
"Oh, is he?" his nanny asks, teasing Steve, and Wayne smiles.Â
"He is. His uncle will bring him," Steve says with a confidence that things will always go his way in life, and Wayne hopes that rubs off on Eddie, just a little bit.
"I will?" Wayne teases, and Eddie meets his eyes, and Wayne nods. "If it's okay with Miss Louisa, I think that could be arranged."
"I don't know how to swim," Eddie admits on the way home, and Wayne laughs.
"Maybe you shouldn't have made a swimming playdate then, kid," Wayne teases, and Eddie laughs, a small quiet laugh. But it was a laugh. Wayne heard it.
"Yeah," Eddie says, and then he's quiet for a stretch, "could you teach me?"
Wayne isn't so sure that's his area of expertise, but he supposes he could try, "Yeah, I can try."
Knowing Eddie would be far too embarrassed to go to the public pool, Wayne takes Eddie out to the swimming side of Lover's Lake.
Wayne, not sure the last time he's even been in shorts, wades out in the water in his cut-off jeans, surely blinding the boaters a mile out with his white legs, as Eddie walks in beside him.
And Wayne teaches him, always staying within an arm's reach. And Eddie swims. It might not be the fancy strokes that the Harrington boy can surely swim, in his private pool with his private swimming lessons.Â
But Eddie's doing it, and Wayne feels like maybe, just maybe, he's finally done something right for the kid today.
Eddie's laughing, and splashing, a quick study, and Wayne lets him paddle around for as long as he wants, until the sun threatens to sink beyond the horizon.Â
Once back on shore, Wayne wraps him up in a towel, just one from the house, and gets him back into the truck.
"I'm starving," Eddie says.
"The downside to going swimming, I'm afraid," Wayne answers, but swings by Benny's Burgers on the way home, getting them both a burger, fries and a milkshake. Ice cream twice in one day is fine, Wayne's pretty sure, since Wayne's celebrating the first good day they've had since Eddie got here.
Anything the kid wants, forever, Wayne will do his best to make happen.
In the morning, Wayne brings Eddie by Melvald's General Store, to let Eddie pick out a beach towel from the rack. Eddie combs through them, so serious as he checks out the options: Star Wars and Barbie and Huckleberry Hound.
"Garfield!" Eddie finally declares, and Wayne supposes that's the one.Â
"Garfield, great choice," Wayne says, taking the towel to the counter so they can pay for it. So Eddie won't be embarrassed bringing a fraying old towel from home. So he'll have something new, and fun, that he picked out all for himself.Â
Wayne probably should have washed it first, but he's not that organized, and Eddie'll live. Wayne pulls off the tag and hands it over, and Eddie hugs it to his chest.
Pulling into the circle drive at the Harrington's is weird, to say the least. He's never set foot on the property, and never imagined he ever would. But, Eddie's brought a lot of changes, and if Eddie likes this other little boy, and he's kind, Wayne will be polite and make his boy happy in any way he knows how.
That evening, when he picks Eddie up, he's tired, and a little sunburnt, but rattling off information about his new friend and all their grand plans for the summer vacation.
And as time always goes, that summer flew by too fast, and before Wayne knew it, years had passed. The boys drifted apart as fast as they became friends. As kids do. By high school, Wayne hasn't heard the name Steve Harrington from Eddie's mouth in years.Â
But that summer, that first summer, Wayne will forever be grateful for him. For Steve Harrington, Garfield beach towels, and more ice cream cones than he could ever begin to count. To swimming, and fishing, and playing in the backyard.Â
To the little kid that made his boy smile again.
And when Steve Harrington, now grown into a man, shows up on Wayne's doorstep, Eddie's denim vest clutched in his hands, filthy and blood-stained, Wayne lets him inside without a word.Â
Wayne takes one look at him, and tells him to wait there.Â
He has to dig, but he finally finds Eddie's piggy bank in a cardboard box that he'd packed from the remnants of the trailer, and pulls out the bottom plug. Change falls out, clattering onto the desk.Â
But inside, there's a slip of paper. Folded to fit, and dirty from spending so much time hanging out amongst the coins.
Wayne clutches it in his hand, and when he presses it into Steve's palm, trading him for the vest, Steve looks down at it, his eyes wet and red-rimmed.
Wayne starts, "I don't know if you remember-"
"Of course I remember," Steve cuts him off.Â
"Well, I thought today might be that rainy day."
Steve laughs, and sniffles a little, both at the same time.
"This ice cream shop has been closed for years," Steve says, but he's finally smiling, just a little.Â
Eddie's not here to do it himself, not here to coax out that smile, so Wayne's repaid the debt for Eddie himself.Â
"Yeah, wellâŠ" Wayne trails off.
"But it is, you know," Steve says, "that rainy day. So, thank you."
And months later, Eddie shows up on Wayne's doorstep again. Dirty, his hair matted, and eyes downcast. Thin, worn to the bone, and as silent and stoic as he had been at seven. Wayne asks no questions. The answers don't matter right now. Instead, he pulls on him, hugging him tight, welcoming him home.
They've done this before, and they can do it again. And Wayne's grateful to have the opportunity. He was so sure he'd never see him again.
Then, after Wayne's gotten Eddie settled, and Eddie is standing in front of the bathroom mirror, combing out his own hair, Wayne excuses himself, heading for the kitchen to call Steve Harrington.
Wayne tells him to bring ice cream.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!
#a stranger summer#week nine#prompt: where it all started#stranger things#wayne munson#wayne munson fic#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#thisapplepielife: a stranger summer#thisapplepielife: short fic
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Getting used to drawing again with some Lockwood and co memes
#lockwood and co fanart#anthony lockwood#george karim#lucy carlyle#skull in the jar#memes#I am slowly making more#Because Iâm free for like nine weeks for summer now
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Return flight home.
#buffy the vampire slayer#btvs#rupert giles#buffy summers#buffy#season 3 episode 1#NINE FLIGHTSSSSSSSS#NINEEEEEEE#uhg#this has literally ruined my week. that ONE LINEEEE#im having a category 5 autism moment#inspo: if we make it through december by pheobe bridgers#andy drawz
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Thank you to everyone who participated!
save it for a rainy day by @thisapplepielife
tumblr | wayne, eddie, steve | T | 1950 words
i just wanna get to know you by @ataliagold
tumblr | ao3 | steddie | T | 1281 words
trailer sweet trailer by @arelliann
tumblr | steddie | G | art
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i miss my little brother
#i haven't seen him in so long#here in greece our summer vacation is for three months#and that guy refuses to stay at home for more than five days istg#he's NINE and is already sick of us what will hr be like when he's my age#he's at our village. and HAS been there for like ten days at least#he's coming back on Wednesday. but before he went there he was at summer camp for two weeks.#bro came back sat at home for three days then dipped again. OH and ofc before summer camp he was guess where? AT OUR VILLAGE AGAIN#like george come back please your sia misses you#which yeah he calls me sia because a lot of the time he's too lazy to say me whole name. when he was a bit little-er he'd call E-nastasia#e like 'early'. cuz for some reason he couldn't say Anastasia to save his life#and he has the cheekiest most annoying shit eating grin every time he greets me with an insult that he THINKS is cool but it just solidifie#that he's nine years old#i wanna hug him#so so so bad#and the mf refuses to sit still so i can barely ever cuddle the fucker ugh couldn't he be as cuddly as our cousins are#i MISS HIM#there's a thorn missing from my side. put him back#i finished rewatching#hxh#and every time alluka and killua were in a scene together i was foaming at the mouth out of cuteness aggression and unbridled jealousy#currently rewatching#the dragon prince#and seeing ezran and callum being all adorable has me feeling thirty types of melancholic#siblings#little brothers are so fucking irritating and i want mine back rn#my little brother
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chat we are SO BACK THERE WILL BE A POST TOMORROW
#I FIGURED IT OUT#i was worried id stop writing once school started but i think im getting the idea if i write on the train.... it may work....#but i did write the beginning of it on the plane....#well we'll find out next week saturday if i can keep up my terribly rigorous schedule of posting a grand total of um ONCE A WEEK#(absolutely NO REASON I SHOULDNT BE ABLE TO) (SUMMER SCHOOL ISNT HTAT HARD)#anyways WE WILL SEE !!!!#i have so many good reqs in my asks rn in reality i need to be posting like. 2 times a week idealy#like theres 10 (about to be 9) wdym its going to take NINE WEEKS TO GET THROUGH THEM SOMETHING IS WRONG#SORRY LITERALLY NO ONE CARES MY BAD anyways TLDR WILL POST TOMORROW !
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*
#itâs only an extra hour but why does being open till ten tonight feel so much later than nine đđđ then eleven in a few weeks#ohhh summer hours i hate youuuuuu
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first B on a biology exam all semester!!!!! i have prayed for times like these!!!
#these past four days have been the worst four days of my life i LABORED to finish a paper and study and work a nine hour shift and visit my#sister two hours away and i stupidly accepted to close tonight at work and i need to get my car inspected later this week and finalize plans#with my best friend to book flights for this summer but for now i got a B on my exam! woohoo!!#someone shut her (liv) up!
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Chronic pain really got me going to bed before itâs even dark out (also my little pink unicorn lights Millie got me look so cool in the second pic)
#my back and shoulder are killing me and Iâve done nothing but smoke weed and stretch and I just hurt so bad#so Iâm gonna go to bed and hopefully feel better tomorrow#I work at nine again tomorrow so if anything hopefully going to bed early helps that#Iâm excited to sleep hopefully a lot and hopefully really well bc 1) weed. 2) took sleepy cough meds to try and mooch extra pain reliever#out of meds in my cabinet. 3) took a back and muscle pain Aleve (even tho I hate taking pills and it took me like three whole min to get it#down my fucking throat. 4) tired from actually using my brain and anxiety from work tired#5) period tired and chronic pain tired#like guys my brain and my body are both exhausted and the idea of getting up tomorrow and doing any of it again makes me miserable and I did#nothing but sit at a computer for three and a half hours thatâs itttttt#like doing two week road-trip then non stop either emotional or physical shit every day until my first day at work#like Iâm already setting myself up for this to be the summer of the grind#gonna make a bunch of money (and spend too much and blame it on the summer time and needing a little treat every time I venture out into the#heat or work a day or do anything at all) and then save a bunch all fall winter spring and once it gets colder and I feel like I can handle#my job more I want to focus on how to make moving out happen. like I need to figure out if maybe thereâs somewhere I want to live that has#an Office Depot I could transfer to cause office depots are everywhere and maybe thatâs an added way for me to figure out where I want to#move#hmmm okay Iâm gonna lay in bed on google maps looking at Office Depot locations in New England and Iâm just gonna daydream and try to fall#asleep and Iâll look at / add to my Pinterest board of house and apartment inspo#going to think about the future because I want to live !!!!#anyways yeah this is the summer of being miserable and spending all my money on bullshit and daydreaming and disappointing my mother#and also the summer of my weed tolerance doubling forever until Iâm back to smoking constantly to the point where Iâm making myself sick and#then Iâll get sick of smoking weed for a bit and thatâll lead me into saving money again#or force me into a tolerance break where I stop buying weed#either way Iâm going to smoke all summer itâs gonna be weed and sweat and fresh fruit and laying in my room during all of my days off and it#itâs gonna suck and Iâm gonna be thinking about my dad the whole time and itâll be depressing and isolating and lonely and Iâll come out of#the summer recentered and motivated towards big goals again like I always am#and then Iâll crash and burn next spring as always. cycles continue forever thank u seasonal depression.#I want to grow up and mature in the ways I deal with myself my health and advocating for my mental health I feel like I need to grow up a#bit so I hope I do that and it feels good. I hope I make friends and I can daydream about the future every night and my room will smell like#weed and incense and sweat and love and tears and it will be incredible
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i need a shower for like 12 tomorrow and i literally dont get up until like 1 usually i feel like when you meet a teenager and piss them off about waking up late except im the moody bitch fucking teenager and im quickly getting more and more pissed off and so you tell them to do something and then everyones just fuming and its just a really bad vibe
#please im so tired its midnight i should be asleep in bed and im so not gonna wake up before like 11#i need to live my old lady life why must i Leave ?? the House ???#please img onan cry i really dont wanna get a shower its so late i wanna go to BED i feel like a tired baby#i hope i DIE#i want to write about george daniel and do NOTHING else for the next three weeks#its TOO COLD literally why would you make me go out in this weather#it is ICY!!!!!!!!!!! i am not BUILT FOR THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i am built for spring-summer warmth and NOTHING else.#im gonna start crying#LET ME HIBERNATE#@ scientists can you make human hibernation a thing please please please please please i would give you ALL my money i promise#i dont wanna do anything in autumn and winter i just get depressed#i need to go and live in finland#im gonna cry#ok but... wait...#waitttt........#if i wake up at... 10... and then. no thats not ognna work#FUCK#wait okay no if i get up at half nine i have an hour and a half and that is Not enough for a shower but also it doesnt matter if im late#so basically i just have to wake up at half 9 and its all gonna be fine YES ! ok whatever im gonna do that and then i can juts sleep now#OKAY !#i also need someone to go to a concert with and im kinda mad about it now#blah blah!#not 75 stuff
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i don't wanna jinx it but just from this first day i get the impression that this is gonna be a pretty good year
#or like. good nine months#only been back at school for a day and already#the new-ish friends i made on the last week are still talking to me#so thats a good sign :33#plus I GOT TO SEE MY FRIENDS THAT LITERALLY DROPPED OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH THIS SUMMER#like they werent messaging at all and i missed them soso much but i saw them today and was like#waagh where thefuck were you i missed you#i feel rlly bad that my irl friends basically. do not know that this tumblr account exists#but if im being super honest i Do Not know how id explain half the stuff on here to them#they are definitely NOT tumblr people LMAOO most of them use tiktok as their primary social media#(< this is why i havent posted any oc content btw lmao)#(i do have ocs im just like. slightly terrified of the idea of posting them and my irl friends seeing them and going#âomg is this ur account?????â like if that happens im jumping ship so fast bahahaha)#(but maybe one day)#(until then i just feel like im living a secret double life or something hehe. double life where i am cringe On Line)#good lord im rambling sorry guys
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Last day at work!!!!
#I work two jobs this summer#Averaging about 50 hours a week#I would often go from the lab from 8 to 3 and then drive to the restaurant change in a Barnes & Noble bathroom#And then have a shift there from four to like nine or 10#Which is what Iâm doing today#But itâs the last time for both#This is slay
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..
#its been a fkn week#worked two super weird freelance gigs#decided that it was time for my rabbit that ive had since i was nine to be put down#and got a job at the summer camp i spent every summer at from age 13 to 16#stuff just keeps happening#my life
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â come a little closer
hockey jock!vi x tutor!reader, fluff / humor / angst / kinda slowburn / smut (18+ mdni!), wc: 16k+ [buckle your seatbelts bc i could not shut the fuck up about vi if i wanted to !]
synopsis: youâre many things; an exemplary student, quiet and well-mannered, loved immensely by those who bother to get to know you, but most importantly, the newfound object of superstar athlete viâs every affection. or, in other words, hockey jock!vi is lowkey a loser, atrociously down bad, and will stop at nothing to make you hers.
content warnings: language (duh), brief mentions of familial issues, latent insecurity, miscommunication & lack of communication, kissing, groping, SEX! mdni, seriously, iâll THROW UP!, more specifically fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving), spitting, makeup sex idk, just good old fashioned lesbian BANGING! also! jazz cabbage, lets pretend for the sake of this au that student athleteâs donât get tested bc i NEED hockey jock!vi to hotbox reader PLS.
fic soundtrack: i could imagine âalina baraz /snooze â sza /tonight â summer walker / pressure â james vickery + sg lewis / wish that i could â umi
authorâs note: of course itâd be arcane s2 that resurrects me from my almost yearlong hiatus...pls enjoy this fic even though iâm pretty rusty; sheâs been cooking in the drafts for weeks T-T iâll be answering some (very long overdue) asks and chatting with you guys <3 and finally, this shit is barely proofread bc my brain is fried lol
main masterlist | arcane masterlist
VI HAS A HUGE PROBLEM.
One that supersedes every issue sheâd ever given weight to in all of her four (and a half) years of university. Is way larger than twice-a-day practices on and off the ice that go hand-in-hand with studying so hard to make sure that her grades donât slip a fraction. Probably way bigger than the fact that her little sisterâs graduating high school soon and sheâs trying her absolute best to be as great a role model as she can despite wanting to crack under the pressure. And most definitely bigger than her favorite on-again-off-again fling, Cait Kiramann, whoâs rare to come by these days.
Vi has a huge problem, and quite frankly, itâs you.
In hindsight, sheâs been relatively good at overlooking you, not that itâd been intentional to begin with, but Vi knows a lot of people. Too many, she feels sometimes. So it's easy for you to slip through the cracks when everyoneâs vying for even a shred of her attention.
Perhaps itâs what piques her interest when your orbits finally do collide. Because, admittedly, you know all about Vi. Know that sheâs probably one of the most valuable players on the uniâs hockey team (sheâs an absolute beast on the ice). Also know that sheâs a biomedical physics major and actually incredibly smart. But most of all, you know that not only is Violet a flirt, sheâs a player.
Not necessarily that youâve ever really been on the receiving end, but mostly because her reputation precedes her and youâve seen it all from a distance. Can't not when the decorated hockey star is such a charmer whether she intends to be or not. Vi has girls both certain and questioning stumbling for a single glance.
You often think itâs pitiful, but itâs not like itâs really your problem.
Until it is.
It all starts at The Afterparty.
Hours after a big victory in the first game of three that solidifies whether the university hockey team participates in the championships, Violet is the star of tonightâs celebration.
Sheâd sunk the winning shot, and for that sheâs being poured shot after celebratory shot. By eleven sheâs practically hammered and itâs when her teammate, Ellie, and the captain, Abby, finally show up.
The three of them together, drunk, is like a minefield of obnoxious laughter, dirty innuendos, and rowdy behavior.
And for a while itâs funny, has Vi feeling like sheâs on cloud nine, but eventually, the drunken high begins to evaporate and she starts to feel a little overwhelmed.
The spotlight shifts and even though Vi typically preens under the attention, sheâs grateful to finally breathe.
With a plastic cup full of water, sheâs sliding the back door open and stepping out onto the back patio to take in the cool air for a breather.
She makes a move towards the stairs, but nearly jumps out of her skin when she registers the silhouette at the base of the steps.
âJesus, fuck,â Vi hisses to herself. âYou scared the shit outta me.â
You donât even spare her a glance over your shoulder, just take a sip from your drink.
âSorry,â you hum passively.
She catches her breath, doesnât even bother to ask permission as she drops all of her weight next to you.
The step creaks under pure muscle.
Her strong legs stretch out, elbows settling back against the step up as she waits. And waits. And waits.
The amount of silence that lapses is unusual, uncharacteristic for Vi, especially so because people are typically babbling enough to fill the void when it comes to her.
But you just sit there, nursing your beer and staring up at the stars. The moon hangs half in the sky, softly illuminating the planes of your features.
Itâs her first good look at your face and Viâs definitely drunk, but the immediate thought that comes to her mind is pretty, pretty, pretty. Undeniably and painfully pretty. And not Caitlyn pretty, the only girl sheâs ever really used as a benchmark, but intimidatingly so in your own right. Makes her swallow hard, throat bobbing as she watches you unapologetically.
âItâs rude to stare, Violet,â you say simply, eyes finally flitting to meet hers.
Her breath catches in her throat, earthy flecks dancing in your moonlit irises. God, your eyes. Framed by thick lashes and round as you look up at her.
âYou know who I am?â she asks stupidly as if point fives of her face arenât blown up into memes and plastered all over the house.
âWho doesnât?â you ask, breathing a puff of humorless laughter as you crush the can in your ringed fingers.
And perhaps you got her there, but Viâs feeling exceptionally small under your gaze despite usually filling out a room. Something about you makes her shrink.
âIâ fuck,â Vi stumbles, cheeks red because youâre looking at her with an indecipherable gleam in your gaze that has her squirming. âWhatâs your name?â
She cringes at herself, rolls the piercing in her nose once, twice, for comfort.
You laugh again, a little more genuine this time because, from a distance, the athleteâs usually so suave, undeniably gorgeous and composed. Right now, the girl in front of you only ticks one of those boxes.
â________,â you offer.
She weighs the name on her tongue, decides she likes it a lot, and tries to shake off whatever this feeling youâre giving her is.
âAnd you go to school here?â she asks.
You nod once.
âNeuroscience, fourth year.â
âHuh, weâre in similar fields, but Iâve never seen you around,â Vi observes. Because sheâs certain sheâd bookmark a face like yours, absolutely no doubt about it.
âWe had organic chemistry together sophomore year with Dr. Talis,â you say matter-of-factly, like youâre not blowing her mind right now. âAnd Iâm auditing Medardaâs biometry class this semester.â
Viâs floored.
âWait, wait, but...â Sheâs trying to piece the puzzle together, but her brainâs still a little fuzzy, equal parts from the alcohol, but also because sheâs caught a whiff of your perfume and you smell so sweet.
âI pop in every once in a while,â you tell her. âBut I tutor in that time slot every Tuesday and Thursday, only really go when I donât have any appointments.â
âHold on, this is nuts,â Violet says, body easing to face you. You flinch because she doesnât realize sheâs practically yelling. âThereâs no way, I definitely wouldâve remembered you if that was the case.â
You hum, corners of your lips quirking as you shrug your shoulders.
âDoubt it,â you counter. âIâm nothing particularly spectacular.â
âNothing particularly spectacular,â Vi repeats under her breath.
And under normal circumstances, sheâd be flirting up a storm right now, trying to charm her way into getting you to bite, but this is one of the first semblances of normalcy sheâs experienced in a while. No ulterior motives, no exaggerated kindness, no outright asking her to fuck.
Suddenly your phone lights up in your lap and youâre turning your attention to the device.
âDD duties call,â is all you say as you make a move to stand up.
No, this canât be all she gets from you tonight. Not when sheâs been narrowly missing someone like you for the past four years and youâre just now coming to light.
The dormant liquid courage bubbles and Viâs gently grabbing your wrist to pull you to a stop.
âMaybe Iâll see you around?â she asks, steely eyes liquid as she stares up at you.
You eye the scar on her lip, gaze lingering there before flitting to meet hers.
âMaybe.â
Vi decides that she needs to see you again.
Youâd left her with crumbs this past Friday night and sheâd spent the better part of the weekend trying (and failing) to cross paths with you again.
âJesus, youâre down bad,â Ellie chuffs Monday morning on their walk to the campus coffee shop.
âYou donât understand,â Vi defends. âSheâs so...so...â
âSo?â
âDifferent, I dunno,â Vi sighs, fiddling with the strap of her backpack as they walk. âWe didnât even talk about much, but that was the most normal Iâve felt around someone in a while.â
Her teammate snorts.
âProbably the gayest thing Iâve heard you say,â Ellie deadpans. âShe isnât immediately trying to munch and youâre already in love. Pathetic.â
âOh, fuck off,â Vi scoffs as they approach the coffee shop, inside packed full with half-functioning college students so early in the morning. âTrust me, if you met her, youâdââ
The words die in her throat because halle-fucking-lujah, the universe or god, or whatever has answered her every prayer this past weekend as she clocks you a few paces ahead in line.
Ellie follows her friendâs line of vision to find exactly what sheâs staring at and she lets out a low whistle when her gaze finds your frame.
From a completely aesthetic standpoint, she can see why Viâs immediately hooked.
âHah,â she makes a noise in her throat. âOkay, so maybe it makes sense.â
Vi canât help but stare because, if it were possible, you were far prettier under the warm lighting of the cafeâs ambiance. The curls of your hair frame your face beautifully and itâs so fucking cute how focused you are on your phone.
âHate to break it to you, though. That girlâs way out of your league,â Ellie says like itâs common knowledge.
âWow, way to boost my ego,â Vi mutters drily.
âJust being realistic,â Ellie argues. âIf you bag her, sheâs easily the hottest girl youâve been with.â
And Vi canât really contest that, not when the proofâs in the fucking pudding.
Her bodyâs moving of its own accord and before she can register her own actions, sheâs mumbling quiet sâcuse meâs under her breath as she squeezes between patrons to close a bruised hand over your shoulder.
You nearly jump out of your skin, fumbling with your phone as an earbud falls out.
âShit, sorry, sorry. I didnât mean to scare you,â Vi says quickly.
Your gaze snaps to her, brows furrowing almost imperceptibly before your expression settles.
âViolet,â you acknowledge.
And she realizes that she didnât really have a game plan coming up to you so abruptly. Had been so focused on actually just seeing you again, that she hadnât thought through the rest of it.
The way you stare up at her is thoroughly disarming because she doesnât have the shield of night or alcoholic courage to carry her through it.
âCan I help you?â you ask, but not unkindly.
âOh, uh, I...â She chances a glance over her shoulder to find that Ellie is watching her from a few customers away, eyebrow cocked and smirk testing. She word vomits before she can think of a coherent thought. âYou mentioned tutoring...the last time we talked.â
You donât even bat an eye.
âI did.â
âYouâre also auditing Medardaâs biometry class.â
âI am.â
âIâm...Iâm not really doing too hot in Medardaâs right now,â Vi says, brain nearly short-circuiting and freezing up because, lie! Sheâs doing phenomenally in Medardaâs session and, truthfully, sheâs just downright scared to ask you to hang out.
Especially when you look up at her like that.
You shift and sheâs swallowing down around nothing.
âHmm, canât have that, can we?â you hum.
Vi could melt.
âNo,â she breathes out a laugh. âCanât.â
âYou can sign up for a slot through the libraryâs website,â you say after you weigh the thought.
Viâs pausing, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights.
âSo I can get paid?â you fill in.
âOh, right,â Vi chokes. âRight.â
You give her a soft smile before plugging your earbud back in, leaving Vi to rejoin her obviously amused friend.
âYouâre fucking joking!â
The librarian gives you and your incredulous roommate a look from the circulation desk and you return it with a sheepish smile from where youâre tucked by a wall of looming floor-to-ceiling windows.
âMaddie,â you whisper.
âYouâre telling me that The Violet asked you personally to tutor her?â Maddie asks you, leaned over the tabletop with wide eyes.
âYeah, cornered me at Brew House this morning and asked me to tutor her in Medardaâs class.â
âJust that?â she asks. âNothing else?â
You look around in disbelief.
âUh, yeah?â you scoff. âWhat else would she want?â
âWhat else would sheâ are you serious?â Maddie leans back in her seat, arms crossing over her chest as she gives you a plain look. âYou know all about Vi, youâre actually gonna play stupid?â
âOh, come on.â You roll your eyes. âYouâve seen the girls Violetâs fucked, right? Kiramann? The blonde from the tennis team? Sheâs got a type and you know it.â
Itâs Maddieâs turn to roll her eyes and you see the exasperated groan sheâs staving off.
âNone of that self-deprecating bullshitââ
âItâs not self-deprecating!â you argue. âNot everyone wants to fuck Violet, Maddie. Put me in the number one spot.â
âYeah, okay.â
âDonât start.â
âAll Iâm saying is that anyone with eyes can see that Viâs hot as fuck. That being said, youâre also hot as fuck. Not only that, but rumor has it, she gives the most toe-curlingââ
Youâre rolling your eyes again, gaze fluttering out the window momentarily only to find that, speak of the devil, Violetâs approaching the library with a skip in her step.
Maddie stops her spiel to trace your gaze and nearly falls out of her seat when she finds the object of your conversation is advancing, fast.
âNo fucking way,â you whisper to yourself, pulling up your tutoring log on your tablet to find that, yup, Violet has most-definitely taken your advice and signed up for a tutoring slot.
If the time reads correctly, youâve got three minutes before sheâs due to be taking Maddieâs seat.
Your friend is grinning at you mischievously, stuffing her backpack quickly to vacate the space across from you.
âUn-fucking-believable,â you scoff, slumping back in your seat.
âTell me how it goes,â she giggles, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she stands.
âMaddie,â you warn.
âLove you, see you at home!â
Violetâs strolling into the library just as Maddie leaves through the other doors and try as you might make yourself small in the open air near the research center, her gaze falls on you as soon as she enters.
âHey,â she breathes once breaches your vicinity.
âHi.â
A moment lapses before youâre nodding towards the seat before you.
âWe can get started whenever youâre ready.â
Right. Right! Viâs mentally cringing, pulling the chair out with a squeak and dropping onto the worn cushion.
Her eyes are locked, watching as you pull the biometry textbook from your little messenger bag.
âAny particular areas youâre struggling in?â you ask, flipping to a clean sheet of paper in your notepad and clicking open your pen.
Vi combs her brain, tries to think of anything sheâs not really grasping in Medardaâs class, but sheâs been acing all the exams with flying colors, so she spits out the first thing that comes to mind.
âLogistic regression, probably,â she answers.
âIn relation to...?â You tilt your head and Viâs breath is hitching.
âThe Confusion Matrix,â she answers, even though she knows all about it.
Itâs only when you start breaking it down from the bare bones that she realizes that she could listen to you talk for-probably-ever.
You obviously have a great understanding of the subject if the way you deconstruct the relationship between sensitivity and specificity (or whatever the fuck) is anything to go by, and she doesnât realize that she hasnât even blinked until youâre glancing up at her.
âAm I making any sense?â you ask softly, taking in the almost confused look on Violetâs face.
âHuh?â
Vi snaps out of it, cheeks coloring pink when she notes the way you straighten in your seat.
âAm I going too fast?â
âNo, no!â Vi practically shouts before chancing an embarrassed gaze around the library to find a few wandering eyes. She clears her throat and tries to relax. âNo, youâre doing great. I get it.â
You donât seem convinced, but the faster you get through the material, the faster Violet can leave and you can finally catch your breath.
Because maybe Maddieâs a little right. That while you know, one hundred percent, without-a-doubt, that you and Violet are cut from two different cloths and that you ultimately wonât mesh, thereâs still a sliver of want that settles somewhere confined in the pit of your gut.
You donât know how long you continue before you notice that sun has begun to set in the horizon, but Viâs effort is unwavering. Sheâs probably on her tenth practice problem by now and so far, sheâs only flubbed once.
You decide to fold your cards first.
âO-kay,â you say, sucking in a sharp breath as you roll your shoulders and squeeze your hands shut so tight your knuckles crack. âThis is a good stopping point, donât you think?â
No, Vi could keep going forever if it meant hearing you talk all night, but the little G-shock wristwatch winks the time and she realizes that the two of you have been going at it for going on two hours and youâre probably exhausted.
âYeah, sorry, I didnât mean to keep you so long,â Vi says sheepishly. âThanks a lot for your help, I...â
You look up from where youâre shuffling your papers together, pausing when she hesitates.
âI really appreciate you. I know you probably help dozens of people every week andââ
She stops talking when she sees you crack what seems to be the first genuine smile she could get out of you since Friday.
âItâs my job, Violet,â you tell her. âIâm happy to help.â
And sheâd done well enough during the tutoring session, had a successful run with the practice problems. You were confident it was just a one and done. Perhaps served as a review for the upcoming exam Medarda had posted on the class page.
But then you see her name in the final time slot on Thursday, donât really think much of it until youâre tabbing to next weekâs schedule for shits and giggles. Tuesday and Thursday are booked through again, her name highlighted in yellow.
You minimize the calendar and pull up the aggregate schedule only to find that every 4 oâclock slot every Tuesday and Thursdayâs been booked until the end of the semester.
You refresh for good measure.
âOh, youâre so shitting me.â
You donât know what kind of joke this is, if Violet thinks that this is funny, but youâre not amused.
Especially when youâre stalking all the way to the athletic hall, ignoring the wolfish stares from shameless student athletes to whip into the womenâs hockey teamâs reserved conditioning space.
You find her benching near the center of the room, Abigail Anderson spotting her while the rest of the team engages in various workouts and exercises.
A hush ripples over the weight room as you approach the hockey star, standing at the end of the bench where her knees are bent. One of Abigail Andersonâs eyebrows quirk up as you stand there with your hands on your hips and you hope the chill that runs down your spine as she checks you out doesnât visibly vibrate your body.
When the barbell nearly crushes Viâs chest on her last rep, Abbyâs quick to help her re-rack and takes the biggest step back as Vi sits up.
Her expression falls and her face pales when she locks eyes with you, your features severe and gaze stony.
âOh, hey,â she squeaks.
Truthfully, she hadnât really pinned you as the type to be confrontational. Thought sheâd have enough time to build a strong enough story as to why she booked out all of your tutoring sessions when in actuality she panicked when Ellie started grilling the fuck out of her about being a fucking pussy and begging her to just ask you out.
âYou have some explaining to do, Violet.â
And she should definitely be embarrassed, not at all turned on, but she canât help it as she gulps. Because when you stand before her like this, she can easily admit that sheâd die for a private version of the view.
The silence in the weight room is palpable and you want to back down, but if this is some running joke and Viâs going to make a show of humiliating you in front of her teammates, then youâd give her a show.
âViolet.â
Someone in the back snickers, another whistles, and Viâs cheeks go red.
Sheâs standing, sweaty hands closing around your biceps as she spins you around and quickly guides you out of the conditioning room and out of her teammatesâ line of ogling sight.
âVââ
âIâm sorry,â Violet splutters. âIâm just not really confident in Medardaâs class right now and I donât trust myself to study alone, plus youâre a really good tutor andââ
âYou do realize that those tutoring sessions are added to your tuition, right?â you ask incredulously. âItâs fifteen dollars an hour.â
Viâs smile is crooked.
âThatâs what my scholarshipâs for,â she grins.
âDonât you think thatâs a bit excessive?â you try again. âI feel that before an exam for a little refresh is fair, but this would be like relearning the material after every class, all over again.â
âIf itâs taught by you, Iâll take it,â Vi says quickly, and you pause because what does she mean by that?
You donât really have much rebuttal left even though youâd marched up here with a fire under your ass. Viâs looking down at you with a softened edge in her gaze and sheâs wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants and sweat-soaked grey tank that reveals swathes of ink that curls up her arms and disappears under the fabric of her shirt.
She breathes out a small laugh when she notices the way your eyes dance.
âAnymore concerns, cupcake?â
Your gaze snaps to hers and her grin widens when she sees you fidget, little pet name obviously eliciting a semblance of a reaction from you.
âN-No,â you stammer.
âGreat, see you tomorrow?â
You swallow.
âOkay,â you agree. âSee you tomorrow.â
Violet pops into the library at four on the dot.
Her hairâs wet from an obvious shower and you smell her, warm like honey and cedar as she takes the seat across from you.
âAfternoon, cupcake,â she greets, slinging her backpack into the seat next to her.
You give her a warning look, but she just flashes you a toothy smile and nods towards the opened biometry textbook before you.
âWhatâs the lesson today, Teach?â
And this feels an awful lot like mocking, but you canât be sure, not when Viâs been somewhat respectful, sweet even.
âWhat do you know about the the sigmoid function?â you probe.
âJack shit,â she laughs.
And maybe youâd find it endearing if the entirety of the situation wasnât still absolutely mindfucking you at moment.
âCan I ask you something, Violet?â you ask, leaning back in your seat as you cross your arms to level her with as an intimidating look as you can.
âSure, anything.â
âAre you messing with me?â you ask. âIs this some joke you and your friends are playing? Because I canât really think of an outcome that would be funny.â
And youâd like to say that the look of horror on Violetâs face is consolation enough, but you know how being loved and being popular can make people act sometimes.
Vi contemplates telling you the truth, that sheâs too chickenshit to ask you out, that getting close to you in any other way scares the fuck out of her. That maybe getting you to tutor her will segue into some form of friendship thatâll allow her to ease her way in. And maybe sheâs going about it the hard way, but maybe Vi also likes a challenge.
âNo jokes, just bad at statistics,â she says weakly.
Youâre silent for way longer than comfort allows before you turn your attention to the textbook and Viâs letting out a breath she doesnât realize sheâs holding.
âFine,â you give in. âLetâs talk about sigmoid function and practice some applications...â
Viâs happy to listen, goes through your preselected practice problems with ease (and maybe fucks up a value or two here and there to really sell her need for you). But the sunâs going down again, and itâs nearing six when Vi folds her hand this time around.
It comes in the form of her stomach grumbling in the emptying library and she looks up at you in embarrassment as you crack the first smile of the evening.
âHungry?â you ask.
âStarving,â she replies dramatically, leaning so far back in her seat, her knees bump yours under the table.
Your toes curl at the contact, heart skipping when she doesnât make a move to reposition herself.
âHave you eaten yet?â she asks, eyes looking everywhere but yours.
âNot since breakfast,â you admit.
âYou like pizza?â
âOnly the good kind,â you challenge.
âBeautiful,â Vi hums, shuffling her papers into her textbook and chucking it back into her bookbag. âI know the best place.â
Valentinoâs is a hole-in-the-wall right outside of campus, a short walk from the library that Violet leverages as a way to get to know you outside of being lectured about statistical curves and correlation.
âDid you grow up around here?â Vi asks once the waiter sets two glasses of water down between the two of you.
You shake your head.
âNo, grew up on the east coast and decided I needed a break from my life there,â you admit easily.
Itâs almost as if the facade of professionalism fades away, melting to reveal you.
Viâs desperate for more.
âAs in?â
You look at her for a moment, wonder if you should divulge because youâre not really sure if Vi would get it, but she watches you like sheâs hanging onto every single word you say, so youâre spilling.
âMy dad died when I was little, left me and three other siblings with my Mom,â you offer. âAnd I love my siblings. Love my mom. Sheâs been a great parent, better than great actually, but most of our family disowned me when I came out and it was easier to run away than to deal with it.â
Violetâs expression falls, a furrow settling deep between her brows.
âWow, Iâm, uh, Iâm really sorry to hear that,â she says, and she sounds sincere. A long moment lapses before sheâs adding, âfor what itâs worth, I think thatâs very brave of you.â
And you seem a little surprised at the sentiment.
âThanks.â You smile. âThatâs sweet of you to say.â
Vi could turn to goo in this dimly lit booth, stained-glass wall sconce casting a warm glow over your pretty face.
âYouââ She sniffs, changes the subject because she doesnât know if she can do this on an empty stomach. âYou like pineapple on your pizza?â
âOh yeah,â you confirm proudly. âItâs a hill Iâll die on, Iâm not sorry.â
âGod, marry me now.â
She doesnât realize she says it out loud until youâre bursting into a fit of laughter on your side of the booth.
âSo this is something we can agree on?â you ask, head tilting in the way that makes Vi want to grab your face and taste you.
âOh yeah,â she parrots instead. âOne hundred percent.â
Valentinoâs becomes routine just as much as Vi seeing you at four every Tuesday and Thursday becomes routine. Itâs always after the Thursday session (because they have a three dollar slice from 6 to close) that you and Vi cram yourselves in the same booth near the kitchen and giggle over half a Hawaiian pizza.
â...And my little sister blew up her science project in the fourth gradeââ
You choke on your bite, eyes wide as Violet recalls Powderâs little mishap that sent the entire gymnasium evacuating despite the tiniest fire.
âNow sheâs about graduate and start school for chemical engineering,â she says, obviously proud.
âShe seems like a smart girl,â you observe, if the countless stories Violet shares with you is anything to go by.
You figure being related to someone as great as the new friend youâve made also speaks for itself.
âThe smartest,â she agrees. âIâm proud of her.â
âIâm sure sheâs proud of you too,â you assure her. âYouâre a good big sister.â
And itâs in these moments that Vi realizes that sheâs in far, far deeper than she initially gave stock. Because these past few weeks, she realizes that thereâs a lot more to your big brain and your pretty face. Youâre an attentive listener, way funnier than she could have anticipated, and just a lot more laid back than you let on.
That much she finds out after the two of you graduate from emailing with silly sign-offs to exchanging phone numbers and texting. It starts off rather irregular, a coffee order here and there, maybe a TikTok that Vi swears is funny, you just have to watch it all the way through! But then she starts texting you when sheâs bored, when sheâs in class, before practice, after. Even pops the question thatâs been niggling at her since she met you: on a scale from 1 - 10 how down are you to smoke?
Like cigarettes?
no, weed, dummy.
Oh. Hmm. 7. 10 if Iâm drunk.
She could not wipe the smile from her face even if she tried.
And then she gets the invite.
Ellie swears itâs her in.
âJesus Christ if you even consider me a friend, youâll bang,â Ellie calls from the couch.
âItâs just tutoring,â Vi argues.
âYeah, at her place,â she scoffs. âAt least test the waters, maybe cop a feel.â
âYouâre a pig,â Vi snorts, making sure her laptop and all of the worksheets Medardaâs assigned over the course of the week is in her backpack.
âYouâve been wet dreaming over this girl for months.â
âFuck all the way off.â Viâs face warms because her best friend isnât necessarily wrong.
Youâre too hot for your own good, but you donât even know it and Vi thinks she could die sometimes. Especially when you wear your favorite pair of jeans, the ones that hug the swell of your ass just right. Or swipe on that shimmery lipgloss she swears makes your mouth look edible.
If you were willing, Vi would be all over you, but thinking about taking advantage of the fact that you trust her enough to invite her into your space feels a little grimy.
âWhatever, bang, donât bang,â Ellie says nonchalantly. âBlueball yourself for all I care.â
Vi rolls her eyes, slings her bag over her shoulder before sliding on her shoes and leaving her friend on the couch with a resounding click.
You live off-campus, maybe a ten minute drive, in a cozy little complex near the suburbs. Your roommate, Maddie, a chipper blonde with a bob, is all too eager to leave when Vi arrives.
âHi, sorry we couldnât meet anywhere else,â you apologize as you let her into your space. âEven if the library wasnât closed, the vet said I have to monitor Pip for the next 48 hours.â
Vi raises a brow.
âMy cat,â you clarify.
âOh.â Vi doesnât know why she suddenly feels like sheâs intruding as she hesitantly toes off her shoes and follows you down the hall.
But she does take the opportunity to take you in in all your glory; all cozy and cuddly in an oversized sweatshirt, plaid pajama shorts and mismatched egg socks.
Cute. So fucking cute.
You spare her a glance over your shoulder and sheâs clearing her throat.
âWe donât have to have a session tonight," she says, stopping at the threshold of the living room. âI wouldâve understood if you had to cancel.â
You shake your head, give her a soft smile that has her knees feel like jelly.
âSâokay,â you assure her. âA promise is a promise.â
And you do start off studying, shoulder to shoulder in front of your coffee table, but then Pip crawls from his little hiding spot under the TV console to curiously nose along Viâs feet and sheâs a goner.
âHeâs so sweet,â she practically wails as he paws at her thigh and nudges against her arm so that he can climb into her lap.
You warm at the sight, canât help but snap a picture, much to Violetâs dismay.
âStop,â she laughs. âThat picture canât see the light of day.â
âWhy?â you whine, making a show of climbing onto your wooden coffee table to get a funny top down photo of the hockey star with your cat. âYou and Pip look so cute together.â
She feigns a scowl even though her shoulders shake with laughter.
âI have a bad boy image to uphold, sweetheart.â
You snort, reach into her lap to scratch behind Pipâs ear, and her heart melts, body warm from her ears to her toes.
âIs he sick?â she asks cautiously, petting him softly.
âJust a little,â you say. âSomething some rest and medicine wonât fix.â
Itâs how the two of you end up on the couch, study materials long forgotten as Animal Planet plays in the background. Pipâs moved to lounge atop the covers draped over your lap and youâre blowing your nose into a tissue as an especially sad segment about baby animals being rejected by their mothers finishes.
Vi knows she shouldnât laugh, but youâre too fucking cute and she canât help but coo at you.
âYou canât tell anyone about this,â you hiccup.
âWhat, that youâre a big soft baby?â she teases.
âVi,â you whimper.
And something in her brain tickles because she canât recall a time youâd ever called her by her nickname, only ever referred to her as Violet and nothing else.
She resists a smile.
âOkay, okay,â she gives in. âLets change the subject.â
You make a noise of agreement as you cuddle your sleepy Pip.
âI actually wanted to ask you something,â she says, arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers a hairsbreadth from your figure.
Test the waters, cop a feel.
Viâs not particularly into the idea, but the opportunityâs right there in the way wisps of your hair falls from its hold. Her fingers move of their own device, tucking the strands behind your ear.
She feels you still for the slightest, most imperceptible of moments, but then youâre relaxing, letting her fingers brush from your ear down to your shoulder, then back to where it rests on the back of the couch.
âYou doing anything on Saturday?â she asks, really hopes youâll say no.
âNot that I know of,â you say without second thought.
Not that you really need to. Your tight circle of friends are all alike, tethered to their hobbies and their homes.
âI have a game on Saturday,â Vi starts, fiddling with a little hole in the cushion. âIf you wanted to come.â
You donât agree or disagree immediately, and Viâs scrambling to soothe over any potential discomfort.
âYou donât have to if you donât wanna, of course,â she says quickly. âI justâ I thought you might be interested in going and Iâd really like to see you there andââ
A small little laugh puffs from your lips.
âOf course Iâll go,â you agree easily.
Vi deflates in relief.
âGreat,â she sighs. âAwesome.â
Vi doesnât know why she invites you. More so, she doesnât know why she tells her teammates that sheâs invited you because now theyâre whooping and hollering in the locker room, towel-whipping her and sing-songing that their star playerâs gonna get laid.
Doesnât know why she invites you because as soon as she glides on the ice, sheâs searching the stands high and low for your familiar figure. When she clocks you nestled in the middle with your roommate and another friend she vaguely recognizes, her heartâs soaring and her stomachâs twisting in knots.
Viâs never nervous, but somehow you bring out the worst of it.
It only takes a few moments, though. The blare of the horn snaps her back into her zone and she leaves all the noise off-rink. In this moment, all she knows is cutting ice, dodging the other teamâs most aggressive players and sinking shot after shot.
Itâs nearing the end of the second period when she finally glances at the score.
5â4.
The opposing teamâs giving them a run for their money and this is probably one of the tightest matches theyâve played all season. She takes a moment to find you in the stands again, and youâre right where she left you, eyes already glued to her as you hover over the edge of your seat.
She hadnât realized it before, but youâve got her number painted on her face and another surge of warmth layers over the exertion.
You give her a thumbs up and she feels like lightning.
They reset and sheâs off, like a streak of light in the night sky, sheâs shuffling the puck towards the goal.
Then you see the navy uniform barreling towards her, voice caught in your throat as Vi gives the puck one last shot before that damned Jersey Number Six shoves her so hard, sheâs flinging into the rinkâs wall.
The horn chugs, signaling the end of the second period and the stands erupt in a ceremonious cheer as the playback reveals that Vi had sunk the puck before time.
âFuck yeah!â you cry out, shooting to your feet to clap your hands.
Vi ignores the instigating chants to fight, only really pays attention to your little dance of excitement as she shakes off the other player and rejoins her team for intermission.
âFuck, Vi, you got it bad, huh?â Abigail Andersonâs spearheading the teasing once they all return to the locker room at the end of the game.
Viâs body heats at the thought, isnât really in the business of denying it anymore, because, you know what? Yeah. Viâs got it so fucking bad for you, she doesnât even know what to do with herself. Youâre her first thought, her final prayer, and everything in between.
So all she does he shrug, canât help the grin that splits her lips as she rubs her towel through her sweat-damp hair.
Sheâs the first one out of the locker room, dressed in some sweats and a pullover, towel slung around her neck as she steps into the tunnel. Your contactâs pulled up, and sheâs ready to fire off a text asking where you want her to meet you, but she stops short to see you already leaned outside of the change roomâs doors.
âHey, cupcake,â she murmurs, smiling hard when she finds the smudged number 5 still chalked on your face.
âHi, Violet,â you return shyly, hands clasped behind your back.
She hears the telltale whoosh of the locker room doors, the chattering of her teammates as they poke their heads out into the hall to be nosy, but sheâs guiding you along, throwing a wink over her shoulder as the two of you fall into step.
âThank you for coming,â Vi says after a moment. âYou being here really meant a lot to me.â
You donât know if Viâs always been this sentimental, but just never given the opportunity to showcase it, or if sheâs just buttering you up, but you canât help but beam at her with pearly teeth and dimpled cheeks.
âGod, Violet, you were so good!â you say excitedly, a little skip in your step. âYou were in the rink, skating circles around them, like this, and like this.â
She bursts into laughter as you start speeding down the tunnel, dodging garbage bins and jumping up into the air to click your heels.
Something falls out of your little fannypack when you land, and Viâs crouching down to pick up the tulle baggie to find a little beaded bracelet with a gold clasp that reads puck off.
âWhatâs this?â Vi asks, and you stop your shenanigans to turn your attention to her.
When your expression falters and youâre running back to her at full speed, sheâs holding the baggie up just a little too out of reach for you, grin smug.
âIs this for me, sweetheart?â she asks presumptuously, even though her heartâs thrumming hard in her ribcage.
Youâre on your tiptoes, chest pressed against hers, and god, please! is all Vi can think when your head tilts up, a little defeated knit between your eyebrows.
She milks the fuck out of whatever this is, arm banding around your waist as she returns the baggie to you.
âMaybe,â you whisper finally.
âMaybe what?â Vi teases.
âMaybe itâs for you,â you respond, free hand coming to rest on her chest.
âAnd what do I have to do to get it?â she asks, voice low.
It makes your body jolt hard as a shiver slinks down your spine because there she is, the insufferable flirt who knows exactly what to say to have your brain turn to mush.
You seem like youâre contemplating for a moment and Viâs breath is hitching in her throat, wondering if youâre willing to play this cat and mouse game with her.
You smile, something glinting in your warm eyes.
âPuck off.â
Your giggle is maniacal as you slip away, leaving her temporarily stunned before she chases you down the tunnel. And she should expect your speed, especially because youâve got legs, but it takes her a moment to catch up with you when her practice bagâs thumping on her back like that. Her calloused fingers are closing around the flesh of your hips in no time and sheâs pulling you back into her arms.
âCough it up, sweetheart,â she huffs.
You whine.
âIt was supposed to be a surprise,â you counter.
âGimme, gimme, gimme.â
And you give in because Violetâs made you weak. Sheâs holding out her wrist as you free the multi-colored bracelet.
You barely clasp the closure in the ring before Violetâs stumbling into you, a big burly girl from the other team shoulder checking the fuck out of her.
âNice job standing in the middle of the walk way,â she bites.
Violet only snorts a laugh.
âWhatever, good game,â she calls.
Whoever she is, stops, levels Vi with a deadly look before her gaze flits to the bracelet youâve just fixed around her wrist to you who stands frozen into place as the tension crackles between them.
âCute,â she observes and your skin prickles. âLet me take her for a spin?â
âViolet,â you warn when her shoulders square and she takes a step forward.
She looks torn between walking away and beating the shit out of whoever this instigator is, but one of her teammates is shoving her along.
âLeave it.â
Whatever that was shatters the moment between the two of you and Viâs taking in a deep breath as Abby trails behind the two of you.
The girl whistles for good measure and you throw a dirty look over your shoulder.
She winks.
Youâve still yet to find out who hosts these parties, but this time around gives you a weird sense of deja vu as you climb the steps with Maddie in tow.
You and Vi had parted ways at the rink, not before extending you an invite to the celebration later in the evening.
You should come, I can pick you up.
But per usual, DD duties call, and youâd smiled up at her despite the lingering pressure from the prior confrontation and promised her that yes, youâd absolutely be there.
Maddie squeals from the step below as you climb the front porch, breaths coming out in puffs of steam.
âYou look so hot,â she says excitedly.
You giggle nervously, sure hope you do because youâre freezing your ass off!
âYeah?â
Maddie gives you an incredulous look, eyelids powdered with glitter and gaze lined charcoal. Sheâs looking extra cute tonight too and you know that the two of you could fall into an endless cycle of teasing because a certain someoneâs probably inside tonight.
âIf she doesnât fuck you before the night ends, I will,â Maddie teases, and youâre warming unceremoniously at the thought.
Because maybe youâve been thinking about it a lot more recently despite only going into this trying to get through these tutoring sessions and dipping. Especially as of late now that Viâs made it a habit to FaceTime you after practice, on your walk to the library, dripping sweat and chest heaving.
Youâd always seen the appeal, but now you feel it.
You smooth down your asymmetrical skirt and Maddie steps up to adjust your tits in your lowcut lace blouse just as the door swings open to reveal none other than Violet.
âOhââ Her voice catches as she takes you in.
Maddie gives your ass a little swat and Viâs gaze is following the movement as your roommate pushes past her to slip inside.
âI wasâ I was just about to step out. To, uh, to call you,â she stammers.
You breath out a little laugh.
âHere I am.â
âYeah,â she agrees. âHere you are.â
Jesus, fuck Vi could burst into flames right now. Your boots hug your thighs and Violetâs not gonna lie, she really wishes it were her head squeezed betweenâ
âYou look...â Hot, so fucking edible, downright fuckâ â...really nice.â
You smile, but you canât help the way your teeth chatters.
âFuck, shit, youâre probably cold,â she curses, warm hands closing around your shoulders to pull you inside. âWhy didnât you wear a jacket? Youâre gonna get sick.â
I wanted you to want me.
âGuess I just forgot,â you say quietly.
She looks like she wants to scold you, but instead, sheâs pulling down her coat, a big black work jacket, hanging from the banister of the stairs around your shoulders and youâre relishing the residual warmth that lingers there and her familiar scent.
âCan I get you a cider?â she asks. âItâs still warm.â
It hits you as her fingers curl through yours, that Viâs truly nothing like what you initially thought. Sheâs sweet, and sheâs respectful, and sheâs everything you could ever hope for.
You freeze at the thought, and Viâs glancing at you when sheâs tugged to a stop.
âYou okay?â she hums.
Your eyes search her face, gliding over the scar on her lip and the one slit through her eyebrow. The gold hoop pierced through her nose glints under the lowlight and her thick lashes flutter as she looks down at you.
You give her a smile that doesnât quite reach your eyes because wow, youâre in deep.
âIâm okay,â you assure her, give her fingers a squeeze for good measure.
When she finally secures you a mug of steaming cider, sheâs guiding you to her group of friends that occupy the living room.
You only recognize Ellie, her best friend and her roommate, and Abby, the captain. Everyone else is a jumbled mix of names and faces and you stick close to Vi as she settles into the left corner of the couch.
You make a move to sit on the armrest, legs crossed and hands folded around your mug, but Viâs spreading her legs and pulling you into her lap before you can effectively protest.
Her warmth immediately engulfs you and it takes every ounce of self control not to curl up into a ball in front of all her friends and classmates.
As they recap the game and catch up with each other, you remain hushed, eyes flitting from person to person as they speak. Toes curling whenever Violetâs voice vibrates in her chest as she talks big about sports and the hot teams this season.
Youâre caught off caught when Ellieâs directing a question towards you and you barely register.
âWhat do you like to do?â she asks you.
All eyes audibly shift to where youâre cozied up in Viâs lap, cider empty and abandoned on the side table.
âUh.â
Your words are lodged in your throat because youâre so used to talking Viâs ear off about your interests (namely, Animal Planet and your son Pip), showing her your little craft projects you like to do in front of the television on a weekend evening (youâd taken a break from the scarf / hat combo you were knitting to finish the bracelet you designed for Vi), and yapping about some obscure film youâd watched while finishing said projects.
But here, now, you donât know what to say. Not when this isnât your typical crowd and you donât know what to expect from her friends.
Vi must feel your hesitation because her digits are slipping into her jacket, fingertips ghosting the small of your back as she presses a palm against your spine to smooth the tension there.
Itâs okay, is a silent insinuation.
You give her a look from the corner of your eye before you turn your attention back to Ellie.
âI donât do much,â you offer honestly. âJust starting my old cat lady duties early, I suppose.â
Ellie laughs benevolently.
âYou have a cat?â
âYes, his nameâs Pip, and heâs basically my kid.â
âCute,â Ellie coos. âYou got any pictures?â
And you seem to light up, spare Vi one more glance as you dig in her coat pocket to produce your cellphone, charms jangling as you power it back on to show Ellie the lockscreen.
âI contemplated naming him Toothless fromââ
ââHow To Train Your Dragon!â Abby fills in from across the couch. âThatâs such a good ass movie.â
It warms Vi to the bone, seeing you and her friends nerd out. Seeing them put in the effort because they know she likes you and seeing you reciprocate because, well, youâre you, and you just need a little warming up.
She doesnât know how long you and her friends chat for until youâre shifting a little and turning your attention back to her.
âCan you show me the bathroom, please?â
Her gaze flits to her circle, and theyâre smirking, obviously under the impression that this must be some sort of code the two of you concocted.
She ignores them, and most importantly she ignores the way her pulse jumps when you stand from your seat and perch between her legs, offering both of your neatly manicured hands to her.
This is getting fucking ridiculous.
The bathroom is tucked under the stairs near the front of the house and she stands post outside the door as you finish up.
Itâs only when youâre poking your head outside the door sheepishly that she stands up straight.
âCan you help me with my zipper?â you ask timidly.
She puffs a laugh, slips in through the space you crack for her to find you holding the two sides of your skirt together.
And she knows she shouldnât look, but the space allows her to see the pink lace of your panties. Sheâs shoving her tongue in her cheek, focusing on lining up the seams and pulling up your zipper as you hold the fabric taut.
âThanks,â you whisper, looking up to see that Viâs impossibly close to you in this cramped little powder room.
âAnytime, sweetheart,â she croaks, leaning against the counter as you wash your hands.
She thumbs the hem of your skirt absently.
âI like this,â she admits, gaze trailing up to meet yours. âYou look pretty.â
Your ears burn, unable to meet the smolder of her steely eyes. Youâd probably find that her pupils are blown wide if you did. Instead, youâre watching her mouth, lips stained cherry and tongue coming out to wet the dry patch.
You hold your breath as you reach across her for the hand towel, but her hands find your hips, teetering into dangerous territory as she moves almost close enough to slip her hands under your skirt.
âYouâre not gonna say thank you?â she asks, watching you through hooded eyes.
A nervous giggle bubbles.
âThanks, Violet,â you murmur.
ââCourse,â she agrees easily. âYou gonna wear it again?â
You bite.
âIf you ask nicely.â
She licks her lips again, body flexed as you allow her to press you closer. One of your hands splays on the counter behind her, the other brushing over the blooming bruise on her jaw.
âCan I?â she husks.
You donât need to ask for clarification, not when her nose is nudging yours and your breaths are mingling.
âYeah,â you sigh. âPlââ
The door rattles with the ferocity of whoeverâs knocking on the other side.
âHurry up in there, I gotta piss!â
To your dismay, the two of you donât talk about Saturday night. And thingsâs arenât particularly bad, but somethingâs definitely shifted and itâs driving you nuts.
Viâs on the ice practicing the following morning and after classes on Monday, so you wait for your session with bated breath on Tuesday. You try extra hard despite every voice of reason telling you that youâre reading into it too much.
Vi smiles at you easily as she drops into the seat across from you, pulling out her biometry textbook without so much as a peep about the fact that the two of you almost kissed in whoever the fuckâs bathroom that was over the weekend.
Youâre staring, hard.
Because that familiar feelingâs coming back. The seedling of doubt that had rooted in the beginning about Viâs intentions with you. Sheâd done a good job of weeding it out over the weeks, of dismantling whatever image youâd built of her in your head, but it plants itself again.
Sheâs squeezing your hand across the table and your gaze flits down to her rough fingers. Thatâs when you notice it, the bracelet, still fastened where you clasped it on game night.
You relax a fraction.
âEverything okay?â
You smile, something small.
âYeah, good,â you assure her.
The rest of your tutoring session is uneventful, goes off without a hitch. And youâre shameless in admitting that you hate to see her go as she walks you to your car in the student lot near the library.
Youâre grasping at straws, clearing your throat before she closes your door for you.
âUh,â you squeak. âDo you want to come over?â
Viâs pausing, hand still on the edge of your door as her lips twitch.
âLike right now?â
You nod because youâve already pulled the trigger.
âLike right now,â you confirm.
She checks her wristwatch, sighs heavily because fuck yes, sheâd love to come over right now, but Anderson and Williams are expecting her for a strategy meeting with the coach andâ
âSorry,â you say quickly. âYou donât have to, I know we only reallyââ
She pinches your cheek before tucking some of your hair behind your ear.
âI canât tonight, sweetheart, Iâm sorry,â she says. âBut tell you what, if youâre willing to free up your Friday night, Iâd really like to plan something.â
Your heartbeat skips.
âAll yours,â you say without missing a beat.
Viâs grinning wide.
âPerfect, drive safe,â she bids. âSee you tomorrow.â
And you donât know why youâre so fucking high strung, not when Vi hasnât done anything to make you doubt that this isnât all in your head, but it only gets worse as the days go by.
It doesnât come to a head until Thursday, when your tutoring slots are miraculously empty until Viâs and you receive an email from Medarda to meet in her office after her string of lectures.
âAfternoon,â the older woman greets, smiling warmly at you as she lets you into her office. âJust wanted to check in with your audit and request any feedback you have.â
You think for a moment before shaking your head.
âNothing in particular that I can think of,â you say easily, then add with a laugh, âfeel like Iâll be a professional by the end of the semester.â
âWhy do you say that?â Medarda chuckles as she logs into her computer.
âI have a student sitting every Tuesday and Thursday for tutoring in your class,â you reveal.
She gives you look crossed between surprise and amusement.
âReally?â
âYeah.â You giggle at the distant memory of Viâs expression in the weight room. âShe seems to be picking it up well enough, though.â
âHuh, every Tuesday and Thursday?â she asks, fingers flying over her keyboard. âI must be doing something wrong.â
âIâd hardly say that,â you say. âWhen Violet booked all my sessions, I thought it was a joke, but I think sheâs just really dedicated to doing well.â
âViolet?â Medarda repeats, hands stilling over her mouse.
âYeah, Violet, on the womenâs hockey team?â
Your professorâs eyebrows twitch.
âWhy would youâ huh. Weird,â she comments.
âI admit it was a little strange, butââ
âVioletâs a consistent top scorer on the exams,â Medarda shares. âSheâs been top of the class since the beginning of the semester.â
And itâs like the world stills as she reveals that information, fragile pieces shattering as the gears start turning in your brain and you try to put the puzzle together.
You glance at the clock, find that youâre due to meet Violet in half an hour.
âUh, if youâll excuse me,â you say politely, try to ignore the concerned expression etched on your professorâs face at your sudden departure. âIt was nice chatting with you. If I think of anything feedback-wise, Iâll be sure to email you.â
And youâre running.
Viâs in the locker room after practice, toweling off after an extra long shower because sheâs been looking a little extra forward to seeing you today, but perhaps thatâs everyday as of late.
Sheâs hooking the bracelet you gave her back on when her phone vibrates and sheâs practically diving into her locker when your text tone bleats.
sweetheart: I have to cancel your session this afternoon. Iâm sorry.
Her expression screws up.
everything ok? can i do anything for you?
sweetheart: Personal things to take care of. Iâll see you next week.
Iâll see you next week.
But what about tomorrow? Sheâd been working so fucking hard on tomorrow, on finally pulling her head far enough out of her ass to ask you to give the two of you a shot.
She sets her phone down, slumps down on the bench as she turns her wrist and takes in the smooth glass beads of the bracelet.
She sighs. Hard.
You hole up all weekend long, put your phone on do not disturb, and try your best to get whatever this is out of your system. But youâre a slave to your emotions and you canât help but check your messages every time you know Viâs free.
Itâs a single text on a Saturday night, one that surprises you because you know she has practice now that the big gameâs fast approaching.
violet <3: hey sweetheart, just checking in. i know you said you had a few personal things going on, but iâm here if you feel like you need someone <3
Youâre texting back before your better judgement can stop you.
Just been a little stressed. You wanna come over?
.
.
.
Then you add, We can smoke.
Viâs sending you three running emojis and you crack a smile at your screen before realizing that you need to shower.
You lay out some clothes beforehand, ultimately settling on last Saturdayâs skirt.
Viâs giggling as you fumble with the wrapper, rolling it with clumsy fingers because, truthfully, you donât do this often, but she shuts right up when you donât break eye contact as the tip of your tongue slides across the seam to seal the joint.
Sheâd picked you up with a Sprite and a slice to split from Valentinoâs, throat drying as you bounded down the stairs in the same fucking skirt that had her touching herself after sheâd gotten home from the party, guilty and wound tight. Now the two of you are tucked away behind some abandoned strip.
âReady?â Her voice rasps as you pop the end between your lips and she brings the lighter to ignite the end for you.
It burns as you inhale and Viâs thighs squeeze together involuntarily. Sheâd smoked with you twice before, both times on the roof of your apartment building and at a reasonable distance. But now, she knows what your body feels like, almost knows what your lips taste like.
You take a few more puffs before offering it to her and the smoke begins to plume to fill the space of her little coupe. Itâs moments like these, tucked away from prying eyes, that itâs just you and Vi.
Not Vi, the supposed womanizing hockey star, or you, the nerdy homebody tutor. Just the two of you, two souls trying to get through university and carve your paths.
âI aced Medardaâs exam this week,â Vi says softly, jay pinched between her fingers as she watches you with lowering eyes.
âOh, yeah? I wonder why,â you quip in return, face impossibly close to hers despite the console between you.
âI have a smartypants tutor that does an especially good job when sheâs motivated,â she answers.
Your cheeks flame, but you donât back down. Viâs been extra good at pushing your buttons and flirting hard as of late, and maybe youâre a little more than willing to receive and reciprocate, but the two of you have been toeing the line, yet neither of you have taken the leap.
This moment, however, feels like it could be it. Like youâre going to find out what the fuck all of this even is.
âI have to meet this tutor of yours,â you play along. âShe sounds like a miracle worker.â
âAmong other things,â Vi teases, sucking in the smoke and blowing it through her nostrils.
âLike?â
âSheâs also funny as fuck,â she hums. âA big baby when we watch Animal Planet.â
You narrow your eyes at her and Vi lets out a little laugh that makes your toes curl.
âUh-huh?â
âSheâs really fucking pretty too,â she says quietly.
âYeah?â
âYeah,â she affirms. âKind of pretty that makes you wanna do bad, bad things.â
You smile falters as a shiver rips down your spine and before you know it, Viâs putting out the joint before climbing in the cramped backseat of her car to spread her legs.
Doesnât even give you a moment to process before sheâs pulling you on top of her and allowing you to settle comfortably in her lap. Her hands run up your thighs and disappear under your skirt to grab the fat of your ass.
You breathe out a little giggle as your slender fingers come up to cup her jaw.
âThink my tutorâll be mad at me?â Vi murmurs, nose brushing yours. ââCuz I really, really wanna kiss this pretty girl in my lap right now.â
You let out a broken little sigh when her hips buck.
âMaybe sheâll forgive you,â you whisper. âI know I would.â
And thatâs all the affirmation Vi needs from you before sheâs taking the plunge and slotting her lips with yours; kissing you with so much fervor, youâd think she needs you to breathe. She tastes like mint and weed and you canât get enough.
Viâs all-consuming, her kiss a delicious mix of teeth and tongue. And, god, her hands. Rough and calloused, but gentle in the way she explores your body. It isnât until sheâs snapping the band of your thong and her fingertips ghost the seam of your sticky heat that youâre hyper-focusing.
âMmmph, Violet, Viââ Your voice cracks as she breaks from your lips to map a series of kisses from your jaw, to the juncture behind your ear, down the column of your neck. âWait.â
She stops, hands pulling from under your skirt like youâve burned her. And perhaps you have, branded nearly every part of her because she canât really think of a sound moment if youâre not there.
âSorry, sorry,â she shudders as the arousal ebbs through her tightened body. âIââ
Iâm caught up. Iâm losing it, and itâs all your fault, andâ
âViolet,â you swallow, fingers toying with the collar of her varsity sweatshirt. âI have something to say.â
Her throat bobs and her grey eyes gleam like ash in the lowlight of the backseat of her car. The windows are smoked out and itâs exceptionally warm, equal parts sexual tension and another thing Vi canât quite pinpoint.
âYeah, anything,â she assures you, hands resting on your waist instead. âYou can tell me anything.â
One of your palms settles over her chest, right where her heart is and you suck in a sharp breath.
âIâ uh, I really like you, Violet,â you admit quietly. âA lot more than I think Iâve ever liked someone in a long, long time.â
Oh.
Oh. Here it comes, the big fat rejection. The coming to your senses.
âBut?â
The look on your face is devastating and Viâs scared.
âI have to know that if I give you a chance, you wonât abuse it,â you hiccup, and wow, thatâs definitely not what she expects you to say, but fuck does it leave a sour taste in her mouth.
âAbuse it?â she repeats, face crumpling.
âViolet,â you sigh.
âAbuse what?â she husks.
âI know youââ
âDo you?â she scoffs, a wave of irritation washing over her as she looks you with disappointment. âWhat gave you the idea that I would ever even dream of taking advantage of you giving me a chance?â
âYou donât necessarily have a spotless record, Violet,â you say, voice edged. âAnd I know that Iâm not your usualââ
âNot my usual what?â The venom in Viâs tone is uncharacteristic, but this is not at all how she expected tonight to go and sheâs frustrated. âNot my usual type? You internalized all this shit that people say about me even though Iâve been trying to get you to see me for months.â
Emotion clogs your throat because a small part of you knows that Viâs right. Sheâs never given you an outright reason to doubt her interest in you, but it all just seems too good to be true.
âSue me for wanting to protect myself,â you choke, climbing out of her lap and back into the front seat. âEspecially because I know that you donât actually need help in Medardaâs class.â
And that catches Vi off guard. You see as much in the rearview mirror when she pales.
She clambers back into the driverâs seat.
âWho told you that?â she asks, not even bothering to deny the fact.
âI mentioned that I was tutoring you in passing when Medarda asked for feedback on her class,â you respond, crossing your arms over your chest. âShe asked why Iâd be doing that when youâre top of all her sections.â
Violetâs voice is stuck in her chest.
âAnd then your past hook ups parade around campus like a reminder thatâ,â you cut yourself off, obviously hurt after bottling this all up. âAnd it isnât any of my business, nor are we anything enough for me to plausibly upsetââ
âYes, I lied,â Vi admits quietly. âBut only about one thing.â
Your breath catches.
âYouâre right, I donât need help in Medardaâs class. I lied about being clueless and I signed up for tutoring even though I didnât need it,â she says.
âWhy?â
âYou know why,â Vi huffs. âFrom the moment I met you, I knew.â
Itâs a glaring insinuation that makes you crack.
âNo one ever says it out loud, but I know what everyone thinks,â you choke. âVioletâs fucking that loser?â
âYou really believe that?â
âGod, Violet, I donât know what to fucking believe,â you cry out. âMy lifeâs fucking fine and dandy and then you show up and make me fucking question everything Iââ
Vi lets out a humorless laugh, canât even look at you and it could make you sick.
âYouâre so fucking loved by everyone, even those who wonât admit it,â you croak. âAnd youâre incredible at everything you do, turn everything you touch to gold, and Iâm just...â
Viâs brows furrow.
âYouâre what?â
âIâm me,â you whisper meekly. âIâm just me and youâre you, and I just donât see what makes me so different.â
And Vi realizes that sheâd read it all wrong.
âLook at me,â she says softly, fingers tracing your jaw.
You knuckle your tears away, make a petulant noise in your throat.
âYou wanna know why I booked all your stupid tutoring sessions?â she huffs. âBecause I really fucking like you, ________. And itâs beyond wanting to fuck you even though god knows Iâd fucking die if you let me. Itâs so much more than having you physically. Because Iâll take being just friends with you if it means having you around. I donât give a shit about anything else but you.â
Itâs the most sound declaration you hear from the girl in the semester youâve known her and it makes you cry.
âYou make me feel so fucking normal and you remind me that I donât need to be anything else but me,â she breathes. âAnd I get where youâre coming from, I hear you. I just really hope you hear me too.â
âI do,â you whisper. âIâm justââ
Vi squeezes your thigh, takes your hand in hers and brings your knuckles to her lips.
âLetâs get you home, okay?â she offers gently.
Vi only has one more game before the championships and she wonât lie and say that this limbo with you has her feeling like sheâs going to be ill.
Youâd cancelled her tutoring sessions this week, told her that maybe the two of you needed to spend some time apart and that she was clearly doing a number on you. So she agrees, tries to give you space to work through whatâs weighing on you.
sweetheart: Good luck at your game tonight, Violet. Iâm rooting for you.
She really wishes youâd be there, but she knows you need the time alone.
thanks, sweetheart. i appreciate you.
âAlright Vi, we have fifteen til puck drop,â Ellie says carefully, has been front row to everything transpiring between you and her best friend.
Vi tucks her phone away in her backpack, unhooks your bracelet from around her wrist and fastens it to the handle of her bag, and grabs her stick from the rack before she lets her teammates jostle her into the tunnel.
And she wishes she could lock in, clear her head and get into the game, but all she can think about is you.
Itâs a narrow victory once the game ends, but she canât find it in herself to celebrate, especially not at the kickback afterwards because fucking Sev and her assholes are there.
âWhereâs your little dime piece?â she taunts.
âFuck off,â Vi warns, obviously not in the mood.
âShame,â she whistles. âShe looks like a fucking weirdo, but she sure does have a fat assââ
Ellieâs fist cracks so hard across her jaw.
âShe told you to fuck off,â she hisses.
Sev spits the blood in her mouth on the toe of Ellieâs shoe, fists bunching the collar of her sweater.
âKeep that fucking energy on the ice because Iâm gonna wipe the floor with your fucking pissbaby team.â
You wake up on Monday morning to a text from Vi and a handful of notifications from Instagram.
violet <3: can i see you this week?
You open Instagram.
sev.94 has requested to follow you! sev.94 has sent you a message request!
Your brows furrow, opening the message request hesitantly. Thereâs a few DMs and a video from this Sev person.
sev.94 hey pretty, sorry to text you like this. sev.94 just thought you should know the kind of person your little girlfriend is sev.94 sent a video. sev.94 i donât really do relationships, but iâd take your mind off of it if you let me.
Youâre playing the video, quality grainy and audio blasted. You donât know what youâre looking at at first, itâs dark, and thereâs so many voices. But you see skin, see the outline of a girlâs naked back, delicate and arched in pleasure.
You think this Sev personâs just fucking with you, playing some stupid joke with a shitty punchline as someoneâs hands snake around to palm the flesh of the unnamed girlâs ass, but then you see it.
The bracelet.
Vi going to lose her shit for two reasons.
(1) Because you havenât responded to her message despite your read receipts being on, and (2) she canât fucking find the bracelet youâd gifted to her.
Sheâs barging into Ellieâs room, shirtless and hair dripping.
âJesus, fuck, do you knock?â Ellie hisses, buds she was in the midst of grinding scattering across the floor.
âI canât find the bracelet she gave me,â Vi says quickly.
Ellieâs face scrunches.
âHuh?â
âThe bracelet ________ gave to me,â Vi says. âI hooked it on my backpack before practice on Saturday but itâs not there anymore.â
Ellieâs expression morphs, eyes narrowing in thought.
âMaybe you misplaced it,â Ellie offers. âRegardless, we practice tonight, Iâll help you look for it.â
Viâs chest is tight, doesnât want to admit that the stupid little bracelet means way more to her than she lets on. She only ever takes it off when sheâs on the ice, wonât risk losing it when sheâs got a target on her back and everyone plays rough.
It turns out to be futile when they enter the rink and she retraces her steps only to come up empty-handed.
This, she realizes, is the start of a very long week.
You shouldâve seen it coming, really. Donât know why you tried to psyche yourself into thinking that Vi could ever really want something with you when the worldâs her fucking oyster and she can have anything she wants.
And you want to feel bad when she texts you intermittently through the days, checking in, offering to meet you, anything. But part of you is angry, unforgiving, tired.
You couldâve gone the rest of the school year unscathed if sheâd just left you the fuck alone, but she pried and she tugged and she settled, and she made a home inside of you and you hate that you let her.
xxxx: i really miss you.
You block her number, block her social media, and even though finals are imminent, you now know that Viâs been playing you for a fool this whole time and you cancel every last one of the sessions sheâs booked.
You hope sheâd get the message, figure that youâd caught onto her little game and arenât willing to play anymore, but she doesnât, that much is clear when youâre finishing up your two thirty session and find her stalking into the library just as the student leaves your table.
âAre we going to talk like adults or are you going to keep acting likeââ
You donât entertain a response, just pack your bag and sling the strap over your shoulder because the tears are bubbling and you donât trust yourself not to break.
âSeriously?â Vi bites, hot on your heels as you throw all of your weight against the library doors and suck in the icy air.
âLeave me alone, Violet,â you warn.
âNo, fuck that,â Vi spits, hand closing around your bicep. âYou donâtâ You donât get to make me fall for you and then try to leave with no explanation.â
âFuck you,â you whisper.
âWhat?â
âFuck you, Violet,â you hiccup, yanking your arm from her grasp and putting as much distance as you can between the two of you. âI hope you and your friends got a good laugh out of it.â
Her face is screwing up and if she wasnât confused before, sheâs definitely confused now.
âListen, I canât fix something if I donât know whatâs wrong,â Vi argues. âIâm so fucking lost right now.â
You hate how believable she is. How the thought of hurting you seems so inconceivable to her. But that grainy video was clear enough.
âI hate you,â you murmur. âI hate you, I hate you, I hate you.â
Your name comes out broken, like youâve wounded her. But youâve officially folded your hand, wonât dare look her in her eyes because the both of you know itâs not true.
The championships roll in fast like a tide and neither your or Violet are ready for it.
You hear theyâre live streaming the game, itâs the most anticipated one in the season. Piltover Stallions against the Zaun City Tigers. A part of you wishes you could support them, but then youâre starkly reminded that youâre a laughingstock amongst them.
The library on a Friday night is as quiet as can be, the hum of the fluorescents background to the voices in your head that are loud. Youâre so engrossed in the study material that you donât realize someoneâs making a beeline for you until theyâre knocking on the tabletop.
Ellie Williams stands before you in all her lean glory, hands sunk in her pockets as she stares down at you.
âArenât you supposed to be playing?â Your tone is clipped, disinterested because you believed that you and Ellie could be friends once upon a time.
âCoach sat me out because I socked one of those dickhead Zaun City Tigers in the mouth last weekend.â
You humph.
âListen, we donât have much time left, so Iâm going to make this short and sweet,â she says. âWhatever happened between you and Vi is obviously personal and that typically would have nothing to do with me, but she canât get her shit together because all she can think of is you.â
âAnd thatâs my problem because...?â
âI know that Vi comes off a certain way, but sheâs my best friend, like my best friend in this entire shithole of a world, and sheâsââ
âNo offense, Ellie,â you cut her off. âBut if Vi sent you here to plead her case, I think thatâs pathetic andââ
âOkay, well maybe if you shut up for three seconds and let me get to my pointââ
You close your textbook and shove it in your backpack before standing to signal the end of the conversation.
âWhatever, I donât have time for this.â
Ellie watches you walk away, takes in a deep breath because wow, youâre a bitch when youâre mad, but she absolutely gets why Vi is whipped.
âVioletâs in love with you.â
And that statement makes you freeze. Tears cloud your vision as your fists tighten around the strap of your bag.
âIf you fuck someone else while youâre in love, I want nothing to do with it,â you bite.
Ellieâs brows shoot up.
âWhoa, what?â
âViolet fucked someone else as soon as things got tough, and if thatâs the kind of person she is in love, Iâd rather be alone,â you say stiffly.
âRespectfully, thereâs no way Viâs interested in getting pussy from anywhere else with how down bad that bitch is for you, but even if she was, I spend over seventy percent of my day with her and know that all sheâs been doing the past two weeks is moping over the fact that you handed her ass to her on a silver platter.â
âThereâs a video.â
Ellieâs brows must be mingling with her hairline right about now.
She reaches a palm out.
Show me.
You open the DM from sev.94, watching as Ellieâs expression morphs from morbid curiosity to disbelief, to a quiet rage.
Sheâs handing your phone back to you and grabbing you by your forearm.
âSheâs fucking dead.â
When you enter the rink, the ice is tense.
Itâs the middle of the second period and the game is tied 3â3.
Your eyes comb the playing area, canât find Viâs jersey number in the mix, but finally settle on her on the bench, shoulders terse and obviously on edge.
She doesnât clock you yet, had given up on the idea of patching things up with you after your last conversation.
âViâs been missing her bracelet since practice on Saturday,â Ellieâd told you on the way there, then pulled out her phone to show you the photo sheâd taken of Vi passed out in nothing but her boxers on the couch the night of the last game, fucked up and sad. âWe went out for like an hour after the game, but that was it. Vi was too fucking in her head.â
The girl from the tunnel, the one whoâd been taunting the two of you, you piece together, has been the one behind it all, stirring the pot.
Throughout the end of the second period and all through intermission, Vi doesnât notice you, too busy trying to get off the fucking bench to survey the crowd.
Itâs only during final puck drop in the third period that their coach finally gives in, smacks the back of her helmet and tells her to make him proud that she lifts her head up.
And there, front and center of the student section is you.
Her eyes are wide, body frozen in place as she tries to figure if youâre just a figment of her imagination, but then the hornâs blaring and sheâs having to zone back in.
At this point in time, she doesnât give a fuck if they win or lose, she just needs to get to you.
âYour little bitch looks cute tonight,â Sevika comments wolfishly. âBet she tastes as good as she looks.â
Vi easily intercepts her pass, cuts between two players as she shuffles it along with practiced precision. She sends the rubber flying and the goalie narrowly misses block.
âMaybe if you played as good as you ran your mouth, youâd wipe the floor with my pissbaby team you big bitch,â Vi calls, resetting in their corner.
And perhaps youâre her good luck charm, the only thing she needed to see to get back into it, because Vi reignites. The adrenaline pumping through her veins fuels every shot, and soon the timerâs buzzing.
7â5.
The roar is deafening, but youâre all she sees in the ocean of cowbells and pompoms.
She barely inches forward before something arcs through the sky and lands before her feet.
Her bracelet.
You watch from the sidelines, the final confirmation as Vi picks up the loop and launches herself at Sevika.
The crowd cheers.
Fight, fight fight!
You donât know how many swings Vi gets in, just know that sheâs flashing you a bloody smile before she skates off the ice.
Ellie emerges from the locker room and youâre perking up.
Most, if not all, of Viâs teammates had come and gone and youâd been waiting patiently, anxiously, for her to emerge since the end of the game nearly an hour ago.
âSheâs the last one in there,â is all Ellie says before strolling off.
âWhat if...what if she doesnât want to see me?â you ask hesitantly.
Ellie chuffs a little laugh, doesnât bother turning as she calls from halfway down the hall, âFind out for yourself, sweetheart.â
Viâs pulling a tank top over her head as soon as you enter and your cheeks bloom when you catch a split-second of her tits.
She glances up at you, nose bruising and lip busted.
âHey,â she spares you, stuffing her uniform and skates into her gym bag.
âHi,â you squeak.
A pregnant pause as you take her in, hesitant to close the distance between the two of you.
âDidnât think youâd make it,â she observes.
And you donât really have a bullshit response, know that you had every intention of staying as far away as humanly possible, so you settle on humming your agreement.
âEllie told me,â she starts. âWhy you lashed out on me.â
You swallow.
âAnd part of me gets it, I really do,â she continues, âbut I also thought you had more faith in me than that.â
âIâm sorry,â you whisper. âFuck, Violet, Iâm so sorry.â
âI told you to free up Friday night a few weeks ago,â she says, shuts her locker door and slumps down on the bench behind her. âI was going to tell you everything, officially ask you out, but then all that shit happened and it caught up to me.â
You take a step forward, and then another, and another until youâre standing in front of her.
âYou have to know that I would never do something like to anyone, but especially not to you,â she says softly, taking your hands in hers.
âI know.â
She brushes her lips against your knuckles, pulls you in closer so that youâre standing between her legs.
âYouâre right,â she continues, voice hoarse. âI donât have a spotless track record, but I meant it when I said that I donât give a shit about anyone else but you. I would give you anything I can if you let me.â
Your hands rest on her shoulders, her chin resting against the plush of your belly as you look down at her, speechless.
âThat night, in the car, you said that you didnât see what made you so different.â
âI donât,â you admit.
Vi stands, caging you between strong arms as she drops her face into the hollow of your neck. You shiver when you feel her lips press to the skin there.
âWe could start off with the obvious.â
One of her hands rests on the small of your back, pulls you flush so that the only things that separate you are the flimsy fabrics of your clothes. The other grabs a handful of your ass.
âI meant it when I said that youâre the kind of pretty that makes me wanna do bad things.â
You gulp, thighs squeezing as her lips part and she bites.
âVi.â
âYou got a giant brain,â she laughs breathily, fingers coming around the fiddle with your belt.
She kisses you, mouth hot and breath warm. Itâs better the second time around, no doubt obscuring you from truly indulging.
âPlâease.â
âYouâre kind and youâre selfless, and youâre my sweet, sweet little crybaby.â
âViolet,â you sigh breathlessly. âListen to me.â
âYeah, sweetheart?â
âFuck me,â you pant. âPlease.â
Violet nearly runs two red lights and whips into your neighborhood on two wheels.
The two of you are stumbling up the stairs and sheâs spanking your ass on the last step as you fiddle with your keys and try to find the right one under the dim light of the complex hall.
Violetâs already unbuckling her belt as you turn the key, nearly taking you down as she shoves you inside and up against the front door.
âMaddie home?â she breathes.
âOut of town,â you answer quickly, kicking off your sneakers and pulling your sweater over your head. âVisiting her family upstate.â
âPerfect,â Vi hums. âIâve been fantasizing about fucking you on your couch.â
âOhââ
One of her rough hands comes to cup your tit over your bra, her tongue laving over the other while her free hand makes work of the clasp.
You walk her back to the couch, stand between her knees as she flops back into the seat. Her arms spread over the back as she settles in, legs widening to give you ample room to strip.
Her eyes never leave yours as you easily unclasp your bra and shimmy out of your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a tight pair of little lace panties and pink socks that has Vi wet.
âCâmere,â she rasps, pulling you to straddle her lap.
Her lips immediately latch onto one of your pebbled nipples, tongue hot as her hands wander.
âFuck.â
âTell me what you want,â she husks, biting down on the swell of your breast.
And having Violet this close, her touch excruciatingly featherlight and tempting, you wind tight.
âWant you inside of me,â you whimper, fingers fixing around her throat. âPlease.â
âYeah?â she eggs you on, lips brushing yours as her palms settle on your ass. âYou want me to fuck you?â
You nod eagerly, hips rolling in her lap as her breath pitches.
âVi.â
Her nickname puffing from your lips makes her crack. Youâre wound in her arms, face in her neck as she peels your thong taut, away from your waiting cunt, and runs her fingertips from your slit down to your clit.
âF...Fâuck,â you sigh.
âHoly shit,â she marvels, licking her lips when she easily glides through your folds. âYouâre really fucking wet.â
You grind down against her, clothed clit catching against her belt buckle. The cool metal sends a jolt through your pussy and youâre moaning loud in her ear.
And Violet really wants to take her time with you, wants to milk the first time she ever gets to fuck you for as long as she humanly can, but sheâs still fully dressed and youâre practically naked, perfect tits pressed to her chest and fat ass in the palm of her hand.
She shifts you further into her, so that she can peek over the arch of your back as she sinks her middle and ring finger three knuckles deep into your needy heat.
âAh, fuck, Violet.â Your voice breaks as she starts pumping into you, your arousal coating her fingers and the sound of her easily slipping through your pussy reverberating through the living room. âFuckfuckfuck.â
She kisses your jaw, litters them until sheâs catching your lips and licking crudely into your mouth.
You cry out when her fingers slip out.
Sheâs leaning the both of you forward, easing you from her lap and onto the couch as she takes a moment to shuck her shirt off and pull her belt through the loops in one tug.
You watch her through it all, the way the trim muscles of her biceps and shoulders flex as she leans over you, takes you by the ankles and yanks you until your ass is half-hanging from the edge of the couch.
She kneels before you, strips you out of your thong.
You donât miss the way she shoves the soiled fabric in her jeans pocket.
âJesus,â she breathes, gaze fluttering between your eyes and your pussy. âYouâre so fucking pretty, sweetheart.â
Your toes curl at the praise, fingers closing around where Viâs holding your legs apart.
âYou know how bad Iâve been wanting to taste your pussy?â she rasps, gathering the lewdest amount of spit to dribble onto your clit. When you donât answer, sheâs freeing a hand to slap your slit.
âNnngh, fuck!â
âThink Iâve always wanted to have you,â she admits. âBut it was that stupid party fucking party and that stupid fucking skirt. God, I wouldâve fucked you in that skirt if you let me.â
âYeah?â you whine breathlessly. âTell me.â
Sheâs stuffing you again without warning, curling her fingers in a way that has your back arching off the couch.
âWouldâve bent you over that sink and made you watch yourself while I ate you out,â she says easily.
And itâs so fucking delicious, the nasty shit Viâs saying to you while she pounds your aching heat; the way she finally gives in and tastes you, sucking on your clit like sheâs starved and youâre the only thing that can sate her hunger.
Your fingers curl through her hair as you teeter dangerously over the edge, nails grazing her scalp and tugging when she hits the spot deep inside of you that has you keening for more.
âIâm gonna fuckinâ cum,â you choke. âHoly fuck.â
You feel Vi grin against your pussy, watch her with a slack jaw and half-lidded eyes because the sight of her between your legs in your moonlit living room has your insides twisting hard.
âCâmon, sweetheart,â she encourages you. âCum all over my fingers. Wanna see you gush.â
âHah, hââ Your thighs tighten around her head, fingers curled so hard in her hair, she moans in a mix of pleasure and pain. âDonât stop, Vi, please.â
She moans into your cunt, savoring the heady taste of you as you practically ride her face.
The sound that fills the room is downright filthy, the sight that Vi beholds when she peeks from where sheâs devouring you equally so. Itâs picturesque, the way she has you writhing. A sheen of perspiration glistens over your flesh as she eats you out and itâs a perfect mix of her tongue and her fingers that send you soaring over the edge.
Itâs a pitched whine that echos, the staccato of your shaky breathing that sings like music in her ears as you cum. And hard.
Her lashes flutter against the skin of your inner thighs as she peppers kisses there, her lips slick with spit and arousal.
âFuck, babe,â she whispers. âThat was...â
She canât really choose a specific word, is just mind blown at the fact that sheâd just made you cum so hard and so fast. It makes her tense and tingle, a smug wave of pride washing over her as she starts mouthing a trail from your belly, between the valley of your tits, up your throat, to finally press a chaste one on your lips.
You taste yourself first and foremost, but then you taste everything sheâs ever wanted to say to you, all the unspoken words and the things sheâd been too scared to share. Feel it in the way her hands are roaming, squeezing, caressing.
You breathe a disbelieving laugh, peck her lips again when she pulls away to brush your hair from your face.
âViââ Your breath hitches and your eyes glaze.
âI know, I know.â
You wrap your arms around her shoulders, legs hooking around the narrow of her waist as she bears your weight and picks up your boneless figure.
âIâm not done with you yet, sweetheart.â
The sun is warm against your skin when you wake up the following morning, your bedroom bathed in an orange glow.
You feel bone tired, body sore and muscles tight as your arm sweeps the other side of the bed in search of balmy skin, but instead youâre met with cool sheets and swelling dread.
You sit up quickly, find that youâre still naked, and take a moment to asses your bedroom. The bathroom doorâs cracked, light off, and everything else is exactly where you left it.
Everything except Vi.
Oh, you think to yourself.
Almost donât want to leave your room because your empty apartment will be confirmation enough that Vi really did get the last laugh in the end.
But you force yourself out of bed, shrug on an oversized t-shirt before finding the living room just as still as it had been before the two of you had barreled in the night before and sheâd left her mark on you.
The only sign that the entire thing wasnât just a figment of your imagination was Viâs belt strewn haphazardly on the coffee table.
You feel hollow, almost numb, and even if a persistent part of your brain was consistently telling you that you shouldâve known better, the tears well in your eyes because youâd really hoped Violet was different.
You knuckle the tears away angrily, mind racing far too fast to register the door quietly unlocking and the soft footfalls coming down the hall.
âBabe?â
Your gaze snaps up.
Like a vision, Viâs standing in the doorway, a handful of plastic bags in tow. Sheâs wearing her clothes from last night and the puffs under her eyes make her a little worse for wear.
She sets the bags down on the eat-in, rounds the couch to take you by the shoulders.
âWhatâs wrong?â she worries. âWhatâs going on?â
You hiccup, crumpling in her arms because you were so fucking scared.
âThought you left,â you croak.
Vi breathes a sigh of relief, blowing out a hollow laugh because her girlâs such a baby.
âYou have jack shit in your fridge,â she teases lightly. âHow am I supposed to make you a five star breakfast with greek yogurt and carrot sticks?â
You whine.
âDonât care about breakfast,â your muffled voice sounds from where your face is pressed in her chest. âJust wanted to wake up to you.â
Violet groans.
âYouâre so cute,â she laughs, kissing the top of your head.
âI wanna go back to bed,â you mutter petulantly, emotional whiplash making your eyes droop.
âYouâre not gonna let me make you breakfast?â Vi picks, smoothing the hair from your face.
Your eyes catch the bracelet refastened around her wrist and you grin softly, taking her fingers to press a kiss to her palm.
She could combust, gaze gooey as she watches you watch her.
Yeah, Vi has a huge problem.
One thatâs particular, and overarching; one she doesnât think she can go without.
And frankly, she wouldnât have it any other way.
neng © 2024
#arcane#arcane fanfic#vi x reader#vi arcane#vi fanfic#vi smut#vi league of legends#wlw#sapphic#arcane x reader
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â© â§âË â© how long does it take to fuck your brother's best friend? (four whole days)
synopsis. suguru comes home to visit from college at the same time you doâexcept he brings satoru along. this is going to be a long break
word count. 8.5k (i am tired of this tomfoolery)
contents. college! au, brother's best friend! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, three-year age gap (you're both early twenties), slightly mean satoru (when youâre kids), slight enemies to lovers, jealous! satoru, mentions of reader having an ex-bf, male masturbation, satoru is taller + carries reader, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, brief mentions of alcohol (satoru), creampie, pet names (baby + sweetheart), not proofread i could not be bothered iâm sorry
notes. this was not supposed to be this long bye i am embarrassingly down bad for the blue-eyed freak
everyone knows that where there is satoru, there is suguruâand likewise, where there is suguru, there is satoru.
theyâre a bit of a packaged deal, really. satoru befriends your brother in what you think must be some twisted stroke of luckâthere is no way suguru would lower his standards for some rich bastard whoâs had life made for him since the day he was born. but apparently, he does, and youâre stuck with a white-haired nuisance in your house at least once a week. for years.
youâve known satoru since he was a whiny, snot-faced, and spoiled little brat. back then, he used to call you toothlessâyou were six, itâs normal for children at the age of six to lose a few teeth. just because satoru is nine and has grown his teeth back doesnât mean he escaped the toothless phase himselfâbut satoru is just a jerk like that, pushes your buttons, and calls out your insecurities to get a good laugh.
you donât smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.
when youâre twelve, puberty does its thing, and now youâre stuck with acne-prone skinâalso a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.
satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that youâre sure costs double your houseâhe comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.
itâs been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too farâitâs more for suguruâs sake, youâre fairly sureâbut stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.
heâs annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. heâs rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you donât understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoruâand satoru has always been there for your brother.
you donât understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesnât wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.
but you havenât seen him in agesânot outside of suguruâs instagram stories and posts. itâs been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, wellâŠyou donât bump into him anymore. it doesnât occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.
âsuguru,â you call, âi borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it backââ
you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brotherâs room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole youâve had to deal with since childhood. except heâs way taller than you remember himâjust how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader andâŠ.and since when did he have abs? thereâs a small tattoo just under his collarboneâwhen did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.
he looksâŠwell, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.
heâs still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.
âhey, toothless,â he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard itâbut it still sounds relatively the same. you think youâd always recognize satoruâs voice, whether youâd like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. âlong time no see.â
âi have all my teeth nowâi have for a long time, yâknow. and put a shirt on, you freak,â you huff, rolling your eyes, âwhereâs suguru?â
âwhat, you donât enjoy the view?â he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, âmost girls love this viewââ
âand yet, youâre still single,â you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.
he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftlyâyou have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.
âkeepinâ track of my love life?â he wiggles his brows, âi know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friendââ
âsatoru,â you sigh, pinching your nose, âdo you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?â
âi practice in the mirror,â he winks, âitâs my charm.â
âthatâs hardly charming,â you roll your eyes, âanyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?â
âsure,â he chuckles.
and then you close the door as you leaveâright before you stop, pause, and open it up again as youâre sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.
âwait, how long are you here for?â you ask, eyes wide.
he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to thinkââoh, yâknow. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so iâm killing time here,â he shrugs.
great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.
you wish heâd drop deadâmaybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.
âyou canât just stay at your place?â you hiss, âitâs certainly big enough.â
âwell, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?â he hums, âconsider yourself luckyâyou get to be housemates with me for aââ
âkeep to yourself,â you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glareâsatoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.
with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for youââhey, toothless,â he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smilesâitâs so unlike that usual smirk of hisâŠsomehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, âyou look good. grew up well, yâknow.â
you blink. youâre not ready for thatâŠdidnât expect a compliment from gojo satoru himselfâespecially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.
you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. âyeah, sure,â you say dryly.
you can hear his chuckles as you close the door againâthis is going to be a long break.
âââââ
just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.
the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking upâyouâre walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.
this time, however, heâs got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.
how tacky, you thinkâjust as youâd expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.
his hair is wetâitâs sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. youâve only felt satoruâs hair onceâwhen you were fifteen, and youâd hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. heâd made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didnât expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.
instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.
his hair is probably just as soft nowâmaybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. youâve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoruâs. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his foreheadâjust to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.
the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.
âoh, hey there, roomie,â he grins, âyouâre really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?â
âdonât flatter yourself,â you grumble.
âiâm just sayinâ,â he chuckles, âthatâs twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.â
itâs way too early for this.
by early, itâs actually late noon. now that finals arenât killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social lifeâand it doesnât help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.
thatâs a bit of a shocker, in factâusually, itâs satoru that has to be dragged out of your brotherâs room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.
maybe itâs just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.
âdoes that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.â
he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. youâre not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadaysâsomething about it just seems soâŠ.mature.
thatâs a word you didnât think youâd ever use to describe satoru.
âmm, not quite,â he hums, âyouâre still stuck with me.â
âwhatever,â you mutter, rolling your eyes. âmove, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.â
âyou have time,â he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, âheâs probably not waking up anytime soonâwoah.â
satoruâs shirt is on the floorâwhy, you may ask? because heâs an annoying idiot who doesnât have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you supposeâyouâve listened to suguru complain about satoruâs messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. itâs never been your problem, but you donât appreciate it now that youâre slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.
but satoruâs quickâhe catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.
his bare chest, in fact.
you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure youâre safe. you almost shiverâalmost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.
âyou okay?â he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. thereâs no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. itâs genuine, the way he checks on you.
this isâŠnew. very, very new.
âyeah,â you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and thenââmaybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.â
âsorry,â the smile in his voice is almost audibleâyou canât see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you donât move.
youâre not sure why, but you just donât.
âyouâre still just as messy, huh?â you roll your eyesâhe laughs, and itâs a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.
itâs a pretty beautiful soundâyou hate that you have to admit that to yourself.
âyeah,â he admits, âit drives suguru nuts.â
âyeah, i canât imagine why,â you snort. itâs like that for a momentâsatoruâs muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. âyou can let go now, you know.â
âright,â he mumbles, slowly pulling awayâand when you turn to face himâŠ.is that disappointment? on his face? you donât get a chance to be sure because then heâs bending down to pick up his shirt before heâs standingâheâs already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. âsorry about that, toothless. iâll keep my shirts off the floor next time.â
âthat would be so kind of you,â you smile sarcastically.
and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.
this is going to be a longer break than you thought.
âââââ
the next time you run into him, itâs late at night. everyone is asleepâeven your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you canât sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. youâre skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surpriseâa box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.
you grin, reaching over whenâ
âthose are mine,â satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, âbrought them over myself. you should ask before touching peopleâs things.â
âyou literally ate my leftovers the other night,â you say incredulously.
âthose were yours? i thought they were suguruâs.â he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.
âthe principle of asking still applies,â you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.
he scowlsâbut you know he doesnât actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.
itâs satoru who breaks the silence first.
âdo you still throw away the ends of these?â
you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. âyes. iâm eating these for the coatingânot the bland biscuit part.â
âwhatâre you, five?â he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a pointâand then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder.Â
âshut up,â you hiss, âyou talk too much.â
âthe ladies love it when i do,â he bats his lashesâyou stare at him blankly, unimpressed.
âyeah, as if.â
âhey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,â he defends.
ex-girlfriend? thatâs a bit of a shockerâyou didnât know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you havenât seen or heard anything of it through suguruâs end. in all realness, you didnât even think satoru was the boyfriend typeâŠbut then again, heâs not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence.Â
âi hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,â you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyesâtheyâre still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.
âi dated her freshman and sophomore year,â he says casually. you also didnât expect thatâthat it lasted that long. something about satoru doesnât strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesnât seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because heâs the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all aroundâheâs snobby like that. âshe wasâŠalright, i guess.â
yeah. very snobby.
âyou are such a sick bastard,â you spit.
he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. youâre as feisty as everâitâs always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.
âhey, itâs not like she was bad. she was justâŠwell, she wasnât interested in me like that either,â he shrugs, âi think it was just the sex. it was good, canât lie there.â
âyouâre so gross,â you roll your eyes, âhave some decorum.â
âwhat, youâre still sixteen?â he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, âcanât say the word s-e-x?â
âi donât broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,â you shrug.
satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, âshh. donât say that too loudâsuguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.â
âsuguru,â you groan, âheâs such a pain to have around sometimes. yâknow i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru mightâve paid him to dump me.â
âi know. he definitely thought about it,â satoru hums, âhe used to go off about it all the time. he was right, thoughâthat guy was a total prick.â
something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private lifeâsure, itâs not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguruâs sisterâof course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. itâs just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises youâalthough you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.
âiâm not surprised you think heâs a prick,â you nod, âit takes one to know one, after all.â
âoh yeah?â he snorts, waving you off, âi do, in fact remember anniversaries, yâknow.â
âokay,â you sigh, defeatedâyour ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, heâs so low on the list of good choices youâve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and thatâs saying something. âhe was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.â
itâs a jokeâyouâre sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you donât think youâve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.
âhe canât be that hot,â he mutters.
âoh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy iâve ever talked toââ satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, âand he was so tall. maybe taller than youâhow tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.â
âheâs probably not taller than me,â he grumbles, frowning. you snortâmen and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.
âhe was,â you tease, âhe was so tall, iâd let him do whatever he wanted.â
âthatâs a terrible way to look at it,â he scrunches his brows, âyou shouldnât let some guy walk all over you because heâs tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyesââ
âi know youâre not talkingââ
âiâm serious,â he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a momentâlike he cares who youâre with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesnât deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.
but then you shake the thought out of your headâsatoru doesnât care. heâs never had a reason to, and you donât exactly plan to give him one, either.
âokay, dad,â you roll your eyes, âi learned my lesson. i have standards now.â
âgood,â he nodsâand then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, âbecause i donât want to help suguru kill someone, and itâs over something lame like forgetting his little sisterâs anniversary. iâd like to go to jail for something more badass.â
âyou and badass donât belong in the same sentence,â you raise a brow. âletâs be realistic.â
âoh yeah? thatâs rich coming fromââ
âguys, it is five in the morning,â suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoruâs head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, âcanât you idiots fight over whoâs more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.â
âwant one?â you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.
suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.
âyeah,â he mutters, flicking your forehead. âgimme that.â
you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your faceâand then he holds out his pack to you.
you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. itâs a rare sightâhe drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.
youâre pretty when you smile, he thinksâpretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you donât), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.
and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his headâitâs going to be a long break.
âââââ
satoru meets you when youâre six.Â
heâs nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing heâs three whole years older than youâin hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. heâs remembered you as the fun little drama queen thatâs too easy to poke fun at for yearsâthatâs all youâve always been: suguruâs younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl thatâs way too easy to tease than should be standard.Â
somehow, he wasnât expecting for you to come back so grownâŠand so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that youâre not a kidâhave not really been for a long time now. heâs always treated you like youâre way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of itâbut youâve really become a fine young woman.
a magnetizing one, in fact.
itâs now his third night at your houseâyour parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you.Â
when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, youâve never been ugly. not even a littleâbut youâve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looksâŠso good. satoru doesnât see his best friend's kid sister anymoreâno, thereâs something so alluring about you now.
the nail on the coffin that solidifies heâs officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriendâwhy would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him?Â
he doesnât knowâbut what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up fromâŠwell, less than proper dreams about you.
so now heâs here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about youâhow heâd show you what makes him feel good, how youâd probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs.Â
your hand would look so much daintier compared to hisâsmaller, but heâs sure it would still feel infinitely better.Â
he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cockâred and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop.Â
âf-fuckââ he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your nameâheâs screwed if anyone hears it. heâs sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. âfuck baby,â he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines.Â
itâs soft and quiet, the noises he makesâcareful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way heâs thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the morningsâhe can just tell youâre not wearing a bra. he canât stop thinking about it, canât stop trying to picture what theyâd look like uncovered and bouncing.
âjusâ like that, baby,â he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his.Â
satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easilyâyouâd drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace thatâs painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone.Â
itâs just the way that you areânever ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinksâlives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction.Â
âmore,â he gasps, ân-need moreâgimme more, sweetheart.â
he imagines itâthe way youâd kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, youâd probably sayâand fuck, heâd kill to hear you say toru.Â
âplease,â he rasps, âplease, baby. d-donât tease.â
he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. heâd also kill to hear you call him babyâheâs almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy mustâve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower.Â
fuckâyou feel so good. youâre not even here, but heâs sure you do, and heâs desperate to envision it. it practically hurtsâthe way heâs so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, heâs going to cum all for you.Â
âbaby,â he whimpers, ââm so, so closeâfuck âm gonna cum. âs for youâgonna cum for youângh, sh-shit.â
and then thereâs cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cumsâhard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. youâd kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. youâd watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.
would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe heâd ask you thenâmaybe heâd ask you to admit heâs way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.
god, what he wouldnât do to see your hands coated with his cumâdid you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sourâhe grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess heâs made.
he should feel badâthis is wrong. so, so wrongâsuguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking goodâheâs never cum as hard as when heâs pictured cumming for you.Â
it canât be that wrong, if thatâs the caseâcan it?
ââ
âsuguru,â your voice is shrill, deadlyâlike youâre out for blood. ânext time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?â
âwhaâi definitely cleaned that,â suguru defends.Â
oh, fuck, satoru thinksâhe forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguruâs bedroomâhis messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that upâŠitâs just that he was a bit distracted.Â
âso you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?â you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinksâbut then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. itâd be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. âkeep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!â
âwell, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.â
âi donât know! figure it the fuck outâyou guys probably jack off together anyway.â
âwhat?â suguru sounds appalled, âwe do notâthatâs outrageous.â
âwhatever,â you sayâyou sound almost murderous as you warn, ânext time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.â
satoru canât help but smile a littleâyour pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguruâyouâre so cute when youâre mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.
silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the teamâeven if it was unknowingly.
âââââ
itâs night four.Â
satoru has surprisingly kept to himselfâhe even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. thatâsâŠnew. a lot about satoru is new.Â
heâs taller and more muscular nowâat one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now heâs seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. itâs still messy now that heâs just lazing around in your homeâbut itâs oddly handsome.Â
scarily handsome, in fact.Â
you donât enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like thatâbut ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what itâs like to know satoru outside of just your older brotherâs obnoxious friend.Â
maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, thereâs never been any real animosity between you twoâyou can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen.Â
you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that heâs not really worth your thoughts when heâs just a guy whoâs always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pockyâsatoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesnât want his snacks eaten, he shouldnât keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.
you walk into the kitchen untilâoh. itâs satoru. again.
âoh, hey,â he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his cokeâhe needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at nightâŠbut then again, why would it matter to you? âstalkinâ me?â
âfor an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,â you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk.Â
âi donât knowâyour parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?â
âi doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,â you raise a brow, slightly amused.Â
he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. âwell, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.â
âyou and my brother might as well marry each other,â you snort, âno one else will do it.â
âwho said anything about suguru?â he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horrorâalways as dramatic as ever, you are. he canât help but find an endearing side to it now.
satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle.Â
âthatâs pushing it,â you muse, âmarrying you would be the last open option iâd have leftâand even then i doubt iâd ever take it.â
âyeah?â he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampooâwhy is he using yours instead of suguruâs? before you can even ask him what heâs doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.
itâs like he knowsâthe fucking asshole.
âyeah,â you breathe, âyou donât deserve me,â you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intendedâthe air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him.Â
you canât find it in yourself to pull awayâwhy arenât you pulling away? itâs just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all youâve always known was to shove at him?
he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. âyou know who didnât deserve you?â he asks, âthat shitty ex of yours.â
you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closerâand against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. itâs as firm as you remember it.Â
âhow would you knowââ
âheard suguru rant about it all the time,â he murmurs, âhow he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didnât show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didnât even meet half of yours. youâre tellinâ me he deserves you more than me?â
âhe was hotââ
âyeah? and iâm not?â
heâs cockyâyou hate that about him. always did. but heâs so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hotâso incredibly hot, youâve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it.Â
âsatoru, what are youââ
âyâknow, iâve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. iâd pick you the best gifts,â his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaksââand i never forget an important date. iâm very punctual too, believe it or not. iâd meet your little friendsâshow âem what a catch i am when you introduce me.â
âand what am i supposed to do with this information?â you ask defiantly.
itâs a last-ditch effortâyou both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information.Â
âi donât know, sweetheart,â he chuckles, âwhat do you think?â
and then youâre kissing himâbecause fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips.Â
so you kiss himâloop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.
your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like youâve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble.Â
âs-satoru,â you stutter, whispering between kisses, âsuguru might come in like last timeââ
âgod,â he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, âdonât fucking talk about your brother right now. please.â
âmy room,â you say urgentlyâitâs all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. itâs urgent, the way his mouth is back on yoursâhe doesnât pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone.Â
no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples.Â
âgod, youâve been driving me fuckinâ crazy,â he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits heâs been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. âyou know that? been thinkinâ about these for days,â he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw.Â
âyouâre shameless,â you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.
âshhh,â he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, âdonât want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldnât be nice, would it?â
âitâll be worse for you than me,â you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.
âwanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,â he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo againâright under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb.Â
âwhat compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,â you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign.Â
for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. âthatâŠthat was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.â
âoh,â you snort, âyouâre so weak, satoruââ
âdo me a favor, sweetheart,â he hums, cutting you off, âas much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.â
you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core.Â
âtoru,â you say breathlessly, âmore.â
thatâs all he needs to hearâsatoru doesnât waste a second before heâs crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.
itâs wetâso wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that heâs in no position to tease you when heâs not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.
âhow pretty,â he mumbles, âbeen hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.â
âsatoru,â you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him mostâequal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up.Â
but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. itâs perfectâyouâre perfect, and he wants to take his time with you.Â
âgod, youâre soaked,â he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, âthatâs fuckinâ cute.â
before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal.Â
you gasp a breathy, âfuck, toruââ before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. itâs sensitive, the way he makes you feelâyour nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you canât help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale.Â
âf-feels good,â you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.
âyeah?â he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, âthatâs a good girlâjust keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?â
he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let himâtongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face.Â
satoru has half a mind to watch it againâto lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. itâs divineâlike heâs halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him.Â
your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.
suguru is right next door. you canât wake himâcanât let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night.Â
itâs not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he isâhow badly heâs aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length.Â
you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was rightâyour hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.
he didnât even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more.Â
âfuck, baby,â he pants, âcanât last long like thisâcâmon, g-gotta feel you.â gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. âiâll be right here,â he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, âsee that? thatâs where youâll feel me, sweetheart.â
âthen let me feel you,â you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, âfuck me, toruâwanâ it so bad.â
so he doesâdrags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you.Â
âthat asshole ever make you cum?â he asks lowly, âhe ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so youâre not screaming his name?â
âno,â you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, ân-no, never. just youâonly youââ
âgood,â he grins, âthatâs what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me heâs never done that either, yeah?â
âyouâre full of it,â you scoff, âalways have been.â
âand youâre full of me,â he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. âcan i move, baby? please? need more, âs not enough. n-need moreââ
âyeah,â you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, âyeahâneed more too, toru.â
satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like itâs holy, like itâs not worthy of marksâinstead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can findâhis lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, itâs like saying it wrong could break him.Â
your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as itâll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans.Â
the friction feels sickening, like heâll pass out any second, like heâs floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness.Â
you do that to himâhe doesnât know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesnât have a grip on his own senses. he doesnât mind it so much, he thinksâdoesnât hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like itâs where he belongs.
âfuck, âs so tight,â he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his highâbut that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. âc-cumââm gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.â
ââm so close, toru,â you sobâand then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum againâharder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. ât-toru,â you gasp brokenly, âfuck, âs goodâso good.â
âbaby,â he moans lowly, âfuck, youâre so perfect. prettiest thing everâprettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shitââ your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you.Â
itâs messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cockâbut itâs perfect and feels so, so right. you canât help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.
your hand doesnât leave his hairânow that you know how it feels, you donât think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever.Â
âwow, toothless,â he chuckles after a bit, âyouâre seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brotherâs best friend, you naughty little thingââ
âsatoru, would you shut that mouth for once,â you hiss, rolling your eyesâstill, thereâs an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin.Â
âoh baby, iâm afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get usedââ
suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguruâs voice through the door. âyou two better not be fucking doing what i think youâre doing,â he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoruâs eyes widen.
fuckâthat was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.
âhey,â satoru starts, âif suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?â
do not comment about a part 2
but yeah he can come live with me any time and as long as he pays by sucking my tiddies i shall provide all food and utilities and everything
#teepods.writings#fics.#thirstee!#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut
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Iâm not a kid! pt. 1 â« jeon jungkook
in which youâve always had a hopeless crush on your brotherâs best friend, Jungkook, whoâs made it painfully clear he doesnât feel the sameâuntil a family vacation forces buried emotions to the surface.
CONTAINS: brotherâs best friend troop, angst & fluff ! idolverse, age gap, arguments, jungkook is an ass with reader, making outâŠ
NOTE: iâll upload part 2 later⊠someday!! this work is not revised and english is not my first language :)
part 1, part 2.
my masterlist!
The salty breeze of Busanâs coastline always carried the scent of the ocean and the faint cries of seagulls circling above. The city was alive with contrasts: the bustling fish markets that lined the shore and the quiet charm of the winding streets that climbed up the hills.
For Jungkook, Busan had always been home. The neighbourhood where he grew up wasnât particularly special, but it was familiarâa place where kids spent endless summers playing soccer at the nearby park. Thatâs where he first met Minho.
Minho, your older brother, was the kind of boy everyone gravitated towards. He was a social butterfly while Jungkook was a shy eight-year-old, reluctant to join in but unable to resist Minhoâs easygoing charisma.
âYouâre on my team, Jeon,â Minho had declared one afternoon, tossing a worn-out soccer ball to Jungkook without waiting for a response.
From that day on, the two were inseparable. They shared everything: snacks bought from corner stores, secrets whispered during sleepovers, and dreams about what they wanted to be when they grew up.
Thatâs how you came into the picture.
You were Minhoâs little sister, always tagging along, much to Jungkookâs annoyance. You were the sunshine to Minhoâs confident energy, with an eternal optimism that made everyone crack a smile. But to him, you were just Minhoâs sisterâsomeone to tolerate because you came with the package.
Instead, over the years, your bubbly nature and obvious admiration for Jungkook became harder for him to ignore. You lingered on the sidelines of their soccer matches, offering water bottles and clapping too enthusiastically when he scored a goal. You laughed at his jokes even when they werenât funny and gave him small, thoughtful gifts on his birthdayâthings like handmade keychains or little notes tucked into envelopes.
And while Minho teased you endlessly about your obvious crush, Jungkookâs reaction was always more severe. He hated itânot because he didnât like you, but because he didnât know how to like you. That made everything infinitely more complicated.
So, he did what he thought was best: he pushed you away.
NINE YEARS AGOâŠ
The evening had the magic that only Busan nights could conjure: warm, salty air and the soft glow of lanterns strung along the bustling street-side restaurant.
Your family and the Jeons had planned this dinner weeks ago, a casual gathering to catch up and enjoy good food before Jungkook left for another training session in Seoul.
âIâm moving to Seoul,â he announced some years ago at your familyâs barbecue, his tone casual, as if he hadnât just shattered your world.
Your heart sank.
âFor what?â your brother asked, genuinely curious.
Jungkookâs lips curled into the smallest of smiles. âTo be a trainee. BigHit is giving me a shot.â
You froze, the words hitting you harder than you expected. He hadnât told you. He hadnât even hinted at it. That night, you cried alone in your room. You felt betrayed: that was your only dream since childhood. Eventually he left Busan to become a trainee, which had made you wonder if youâll ever have an opportunity in the industry.
The long, wooden table was nestled under a canopy of fairy lights, with plates of grilled fish, spicy tteokbokki, and steaming bowls of jjigae scattered across its surface. You sat beside Jungkook, not by choice but because the seating arrangement had worked out that way. Your mother was chatting animatedly with Mrs. Jeon, and your brother Minho was in a heated debate with Jungkookâs older brother about which soccer team was superior.
You couldnât focus. Not with Jungkook so close, his presence filling the air between you. He was dressed casually in a black hoodie and jeans, his dark hair slightly messy from the seaside breeze. He was scrolling through his phone, barely acknowledging you, but you could feel the heat radiating from his shoulder whenever it brushed yours.
As the clock neared midnight, the temperature dropped. You rubbed your arms, the thin pink cardigan youâd worn doing little to ward off the chill. You tried to focus on the conversation, but your shivering gave you away.
âAre you cold?â your mom asked from across the table, concern in her eyes.
âIâm fine,â you lied quickly, forcing a smile.
But you werenât fine, and Jungkook noticed your trembling.
Later, when the two families were chatting, you hesitated for a moment and then glanced at him. âCan I⊠borrow your hoodie?â you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
He blinked, clearly caught off guard. âWhat?â
âYour hoodie,â you repeated, trying to sound casual. âIâm freezing here.â
He stared at you for a second longer than necessary, his lips pressing into a thin line. Then, without a word, he pulled the hoodie over his head, his black t-shirt riding up slightly to reveal a toned stomach. You quickly looked away, heat rushing to your cheeks.
âHere,â he muttered, holding it out to you.
You slipped it on, the fabric warm and smelling faintly of his cologneâa mix of citrus and vanilla. It was far too big on you, the sleeves hanging past your fingertips, but it was comforting nonetheless.
âThanks,â you said softly, stealing a glance at him.
He shrugged, his expression unreadable. âItâs just a hoodie.â
But as the night went on, you noticed little things. How he subtly shifted closer when the breeze picked up. How his knee brushed against yours under the table, and he didnât pull away. How, when he thought no one was looking, his gaze lingered on you a second too long.
And maybe, just maybe, it wasnât just a hoodie after all.
That dinner had stirred something in you. Maybe it was the way Jungkook had handed you his hoodie without hesitation or the bubble gum scent on it. Whatever it was, the feelings swirling inside you.
SEVEN YEARS AGOâŠ
It all started at one of Minhoâs infamous parties. The room was crowded, music pumping, and you tried your best to enjoy yourself but the thought of being there just because you were Minho's sister made you cringe. That was until you saw Jungkook laughing in the corner with his friends. He had got back from Seoul a few days ago because his company gave him some free days.
Your chest tightened as you saw him. It was impossible to ignore how Jungkookâs carefree laughter carried across the room, pulling you into a spiral of softness. You retreated to the kitchen, determined to drown your emotions in a cup of punch. Thatâs where Juwon found you, one of your brother's friends.
"Stop pouting," he teased, ruffling your hair. "Whatâs wrong, kid?"
You shrink at the thought of being called a "kid". "Iâm not a kid," you snapped, pulling away. "And nothingâs wrong."
Juwon didnât believe you, but before he could pry further, Jungkook walked in. His sharp jawline, dark eyes, and smirk made your heart skip a beat.
"Juwon-ah," Jungkook greeted casually before his gaze flicked to you. "Whatâs with the long face? Did someone steal your crayons?"
Your jaw tightened, and Juwon chuckled. "Sheâs sulking about something. Probably got dumped." You glared at him, but Jungkookâs smirk only widened.
"Dumped?" Jungkook tilted his head mockingly. "Youâd have to date someone for that to happen, kid."
That was the last straw.
"Stop, Iâm not a kid!" you snapped, slamming your cup onto the counter. "Iâm not some little girl you can just mock whenever you feel like it, Jungkook!"
The room went silent, tension crackling between you. Jungkookâs smirk faltered, replaced by something unreadable. Juwon shifted uncomfortably, sensing heâd made a mistake by staying.
"Alright..." Juwon muttered. "Iâm leaving you two to... whatever this is." When he left, Jungkook leaned against the counter, his eyes narrowing as he studied you.
"Youâre really something, arenât you?" he said, his voice low. "Always so desperate to prove yourself. What are you trying to prove this time? That youâre all grown up?"
You felt the sting of his words but refused to back down.
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might actually apologize. Instead, he muttered, "Youâre too young to understand."
"Stop using that excuse!" you shot back. "Iâm not a kid anymore, and you donât get to decide how I feel!" The argument hung in the air like a storm ready to break. Jungkook opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, his expression darkened immediately. He went closer to you, his height suddenly making the space between you feel even smaller.
âAre you kidding right now?â he asked, his tone cold. Your noses were almost touching.
Your heart sank and you closed your eyes. âI⊠I just want to be serious. For once.â
âSerious?â His voice rose, sharp and cutting. âKid, you'll never be.â
The words hit you like a slap. You blinked rapidly, trying to process the sudden shift in his demeanour.
âI donât need this,â he continued, his frustration spilling out. âI donât need you trying to play house or whatever weird crush youâve got going on. Stop wasting your time on me. Youâre just a little kid.â
Your chest tightened the sting of his words bringing tears to your eyes.
âIâm sorry,â you whispered, your voice trembling. The cup you were holding was long forgotten.
"Youâre... impossible, stubborn, and way too good for someone like me." Your breath hitched as his hand brushed against yours.
"Kook..."
He pulled back suddenly, as if afraid of what might happen next. "We canât," he muttered, more to himself than to you. But before he could walk away, you grabbed his wrist.
"Youâre an idiot," you said, tears pricking your eyes. "But if you walk away now, youâre proving me right."
Jungkook froze, his expression conflicted. Then, in one swift motion, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing onto yours. He began to kiss you, gently biting on your lower lip trying to make you open your mouth. You had never, in your whole life, thought Jungkook would be kissing you.
The kiss was messy, desperate, and everything youâd imagined it would be. One hand on your waist gripping you tightly, rubbing circles with his thumb as his other hand is gently holding the side of your face.
Jungkook began to press kisses along the length of your neck, stopping just above your jawline.
âThat feels nice,â you blushed.
He chuckled as he leant in towards you, brushing his hand against your cheek. When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his voice shaky.
âWe canât⊠You know we canât.â
Once again, his eyes travelled to your lips but before he could kiss you he turned quickly, rushing back into the living room before you broke down completely.
Or so he thought. That was the first time Jeon Jungkook kissed you.
That night, sitting alone in your room with tear-streaked cheeks and a heart that felt both shattered and strangely free, you made a decision: it was time to focus on yourself.
Becoming an idol had always been your dream. You remembered the exact moment you decided this was what you wantedâa moment of clarity during a school talent show when the cheers of the crowd and the spotlight on you felt like home.
But dreaming of something and pursuing it were two entirely different things.
When you told your family you wanted to audition, they smiled indulgently, thinking it was a phase. Your brother, ever protective, had scoffed, telling you to "be realistic." Jungkook, who was still part of your life, had smirked and asked, "Are you trying to be me? Do you even know how hard life my is?"
And he was right.
Auditioning for agencies was gruelling. There were days when you faced rejection after rejection, each one feeling like a crack in the foundation of your confidence. Youâd wake up at 5 a.m. for practice sessions, juggling school, part-time jobs, and long hours of singing and dancing in a cramped studio. Every week, you had to convince yourself to keep going when everything in you screamed to quit.
The hardest part, though, wasnât the physical exhaustionâit was the emotional toll.
Friendships began to slip away, you missed birthdays, family dinners, and countless moments that made your hometown feel like home. Moving to Seoul for training was bittersweet. You were chasing your dream, but it felt like leaving behind pieces of yourself.
Training wasnât glamorous, either. There were days when your trainers yelled at you for missing a note or a beat, and youâd spend nights in the dorm crying into your pillow, wondering if youâd ever be good enough. Some trainees around you gave up, packing their bags and leaving without a word. But you stayed because deep down, you knew this was what you were meant to do.
And then, one day, after years of relentless hard work, you got a call from BigHit. You had been selected to debut. You and the four other girls youâd grown close to over endless practice hours were going to be idols.
But with gaining fame came him.
Jungkook had debuted first, of course, with BTS. And every time you crossed paths at the company, at award shows or music programs, he made it clear he wasnât thrilled about it.
It was a surreal moment as you and your groupâMimi, Sky, Nari, and Yunjinâstepped into the large studio for the BigHit family photoshoot. The air buzzed with energy as staff members rushed to set up lighting and cameras. You were dressed in coordinating white outfits, your makeup and hair perfected to the last detail, but none of it stopped the nervous flutter in your stomach.
The nerves only intensified when you saw BTS already gathered near the set, their laughter and chatter filling the room. It wasnât the first time youâd seen them; in fact, youâd met the members long before they became global sensations, back when Jungkook was still a trainee.
Taehyung and Jin had always been the most welcoming, making an effort to befriend you during those early, uncertain days of training. You had countless memories of Taehyung showing you silly tricks to lighten your mood and Jin bringing snacks to share after practice sessions. Even now, they greeted you with warm smiles, as if no time had passed at all.
Taehyung waved enthusiastically as you approached. "Look at you! All grown up now."
You laughed, cheeks flushing. "And you havenât changed a bit, Tae."
But the moment your eyes landed on Jungkook, your breath hitched. He stood near the backdrop, hands tucked in his pockets, looking impossibly good in his fitted suit. His gaze met yours briefly, and he gave a small nod, his expression unreadable.
You had seen him a few weeks ago at a family lunch back in Busan, but every encounter still carried a weight you couldnât quite shake.
"Alright, everyone!" The photographer clapped his hands, gathering everyoneâs attention. "Weâre starting with the full group shots. BTS and our newest girl group, together."
Your heart sank. You werenât sure you could survive being this close to Jungkook, especially under the teasing gaze of your members and his.
As the groups began to arrange themselves, chaos ensued. Jin insisted on being in the middle, Taehyung joked about needing his best angle, and your leader, Mimi, declared she wouldnât stand anywhere near Namjoon because he was too tall. Amid the commotion, you somehow ended up right next to Jungkook.
You tried not to panic as you felt his body press against your back in the cramped arrangement, and you swore you could feel the heat radiating off him.
"Y/N," Sky whispered, barely containing her laughter. "Youâre blushing."
"Shut up," you hissed back, but your cheeks betrayed you, turning even redder.
"Look at them," Jimin teased loudly, his voice drawing everyoneâs attention. "Our maknaes! Should we make room for you two?"
"Jimin," you groaned, burying your face in your hands.
Sky and Nari joined in, giggling as they exchanged knowing looks with BTSâs members. Even Yoongi couldnât resist chiming in. "Letâs make a maknae photo. Everyone else, move aside!"
The teasing only worsened as the photographer tried to get everyone to focus. Jungkook remained quiet through it all, his expression unreadable, but you were hyper-aware of his proximity.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke.
"Enough," Jungkook said, his voice firm but not harsh. The room fell silent, and all eyes turned to him.
He looked down at you, his expression softening. "Letâs just take the photo, okay?"
You nodded, too flustered to say anything. The teasing subsided after that, and the rest of the shoot went smoothly, though you couldnât stop your heart from racing every time Jungkook shifted beside you.
As the session wrapped up, Taehyung leaned over and whispered in your ear, "He still cares, you know."
You didnât respond, but the lingering warmth of Jungkookâs presence and the memory of his quiet defence stayed with you long after the photoshoot ended.
The photoshoot felt like a blur in your memory, but one moment lingered vividlyâJungkook standing beside you, his quiet presence both overwhelming and grounding. When he had stepped in to silence the teasing, youâd felt a warmth you couldnât explain. It wasnât just his defence but the softness in his eyes, the unspoken understanding that had stayed with you.
Since then, things between you have been⊠complicated. Jungkook was still distant most of the time, his words often cold, but there were cracks in his armour. Small, fleeting moments where his gaze softened or his words carried a hint of something deeper.
Now, backstage at the award show, the weight of his presence pressed on you like a phantom. You hadnât exchanged more than a glance, but his impact lingered, just like it always did.
âOkay, so whoâs the most nervous?â Nari teased, trying to break the tension as your group sat in a quiet corner.
âNot me,â Sky declared, though her knuckles were white around her water bottle.
âWhat about our maknae?â Mimi leaned closer to you. âYouâve been off all morning. Thinking about Jungkook again?â
You groaned, rolling your eyes as the others giggled. âIâm not,â you lied, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.
âYou totally are,â Yunjin added, poking your side. âHeâs got you all flustered, and he hasnât even spoken to you yet.â
Before you could respond, Taehyung and Jin appeared, their easy smiles immediately lightening the mood.
âLadies, looking stunning as always,â Taehyung greeted, his tone playful as ever.
Jin offered his signature kind smile. âNervous? Donât be. Youâll do great.â
Their presence was a welcome distraction, and you couldnât help but laugh when Taehyung dramatically declared, âWeâre here to protect you from Jungkookâs glaring.â
But the laughter was short-lived. Across the room, Jungkook leaned against the wall, his sharp gaze fixed on you. When Jin ruffled your hair, earning a bright laugh from you, Jungkookâs jaw tightened.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to focus on the performance ahead. But just as you steadied yourself, he approached the group.
âHey,â Jungkook called softly.
Everyone turned, surprised to see him standing next to you, his expression unreadable but his tone lacking its usual sharpness. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside your group's dressing room.
âDonât let me ruin this for you,â he said, his voice so low you could bearly hear him. âYouâre⊠good at this. Just do your thing.â
It wasnât an apology for everything he had done, but it was something.
Your eyes searched his, looking for any trace of malice, but all you found was a flicker of uncertainty. For the first time in what felt like forever, his walls seemed to lower, if only slightly.
âThanks,â you said quietly, unsure of what else to say.
As he walked out, Yunjin sidled up beside you, a knowing grin on her face. âWhat did Jungkook say?â
âNothing important,â you lied, though your heart told a different story.
âSure,â she teased.
The words stayed with you as you stepped onto the stage, ready to perform. Maybe Jungkook wasnât the same boy youâd once known, but beneath the cold exterior, there was still something there. Something worth holding onto.
The night of your groupâs single release party was supposed to be a celebration. The venue buzzed with excitement, filled with industry friends, labelmates, and staff. Your group were the stars of the evening, basking in the glow of your latest success. Youâd worked tirelessly for months, and now, you deserved to let loose.
You flitted around the party, sharing laughs, clinking glasses, and posing for photos with everyone who came to congratulate you. But a familiar tension brewed in your chest, one you tried to ignore as much as you could.
It didnât help when Jungkook and his members arrived.
You didn't expect him to come, even though heâd been the first on your personal list. Yet there he was, standing near the bar in a sleek dark outfit, grey jeans and a black oversized t-shirt that fitted him nicely. His gaze found yours almost instantly, but he didnât approach. Instead, he stayed rooted in place, sipping his drink and chatting casually with Hoseok.
âBabes,â Sky called, tugging you out of your thoughts. âYou good?â
âYeah,â you lied, forcing a smile. âIâm fine.â
But the truth was, Jungkookâs presence threw you off. The history between youâcomplicated and unresolvedâlingered like an unspoken storm. His quiet indifference always hurt more than it should have.
As the night wore on, you avoided him, focusing instead on celebrating with your group. You danced, laughed, and tried to push him out of your mind. But when you stepped outside for a moment of air, the cool breeze hit you, and so did the realization that heâd followed you.
âCouldnât even last the whole party?â Jungkookâs voice carried a teasing edge, but there was a hesitation in his tone.
You scoffed, not turning to face him. âWhy are you here, Jungkook?â
âTo congratulate you,â he said, stepping closer. âBig night for you and the girls.â
You turned to find him standing a few feet away, hands tucked into his pockets. âFunny,â you muttered. âDidnât think you cared.â
âI care,â Jungkook stepped closer, his gaze searching yours. âYouâve been avoiding me since the backstage moment.â
You laughed bitterly. âAnd youâve been ignoring me for years. Why do you care now?â
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension was palpable, years of unresolved feelings bubbling to the surface.
âI donât ignore you, kid.â He said finally, his voice quieter.
âCouldâve fooled me,â you shot back, crossing your arms. âEvery time I try to talk to you, you shut me out. Every time I think weâre okay, you push me away again.â
His gaze dropped to the ground, and for a moment, he looked almost guilty. âItâs not that simple.â
âThen make it simple,â you pressed, the frustration youâd bottled up for so long finally spilling out. âIf you donât want me in your life, just say so. Stop playing this game, Jungkook. Iâm tired.â
His head snapped up, eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. âKid... I never wanted you out of my life.â
âStop calling me 'kid'â you demanded, your voice breaking. âWhy do you act like I donât matter?â
âYou matter,â he said, stepping closer. âYou matter so much it scares the hell out of me.â
The admission hung in the air, heavy and raw. Your heart pounded as he closed the distance between you, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. You pulled away, tears brimming in your eyes.
âThis doesnât fix anything,â you whispered, your voice shaking.
âI know,â he said, his forehead resting against yours. âBut I donât know how to let you go.â
You stepped back, creating space between you. âYou need to figure it out, Jungkook. Because I canât keep doing this.â
The pain in his eyes mirrored your own, but neither of you said another word. You turned and walked back into the party, leaving him alone in the cold night.
"Let me take you home," he said. His tone was strong, not what you were used to. Still, the ride to your flat was silent, you sitting in the front with Jungkook while faint music played on the radio.
Jungkookâs jaw clenched, his knuckles turning white. âDid you really think you mean nothing to me?â You could only sob again, unable to answer him mainly because you were ashamed. When the car stopped, he unbuckled his seat belt and murmured that he would walk you to your door.
Jungkook rocked on his heels as he watched the moonlight highlight the tear-stained cheeks of his best friend's sister. He thought you looked beautiful that night even though you had been crying for the last half hour, your hair hadn't been brushed, and you were digging through your purse like crazy.
Although he would never admit it.
"I got them!" You laughed, waving your keys in the air before bumping your nose with the keychain. You paused as you pushed the key into the door, turning to look Jungkook in the eye for the first time since the party.
"Thank you," he didn't want to hear it. After all, you were just his best friendâs sister.
"It's no big deal."
After a moment, you dropped your bag to the floor and wrapped your arms around the boy's waist, your head resting on his chest as he quickly moved his hand and rubbed your back. He whispered, his chin resting on the top of your head.
"Goodnight."
Itâs been two months since the party. When your mom first suggested a getaway, you thought it was the perfect idea to forget Jungkookâs situation. âYouâve been working too hard,â she had said over the phone, her voice tinged with concern. âA little break will do you good. Sunshine, good food, some family timeâitâs exactly what you need.â
Youâd been reluctant at first. The idea of slowing down felt foreign when your life had been moving at a breakneck pace for so long. But your momâs persistenceâand your own exhaustionâeventually won you over.
âWeâve already rented a villa by the beach,â she added, excitement in her tone. âOh, and the Jeons will be joining us. Itâll be like the old days!â
The Jeons. You hadnât heard that name in a while, but the memory of warm summer evenings spent with Jungkookâs family hit you like a wave. Your stomach sank as you considered the possibility of seeing him again.
âDo you mean the whole Jeon family?â you had asked hesitantly, trying to gauge just how much of a challenge this ârelaxingâ trip would be.
âOf course!â your mom said brightly. âItâs been so long since weâve all gotten together.â
You hadnât been able to come up with a convincing excuse to avoid the trip, so you packed your bags, hoping the villa would be big enough to keep a comfortable distance between you and Jungkook.
But the moment you stepped onto the patio of the villa, you knew that hope was futile. He was there, leaning against the railing, staring out at the ocean like he belonged there. And when he turned and saw you, the atmosphere immediately shifted.
His dark eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. You felt his gaze move over you briefly before he turned away, as if dismissing you altogether.
Your brotherâs voice broke the tension. âSurprise! Kook managed to clean his schedule.â
You forced a smile, swallowing the lump in your throat. âGreat,â you said, your voice flat.
âHey kid,â he smirked.
âIâm not a kid!â You wanted to scream for help.
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