#the lovers VI

[biseugen]

Anti‐X icons

[prickly-paprikash]

Can't believe Vander and Silco made sure to pass on their romantic inclinations to their daughters.

This family is foesexual. They oppsromantic. They've no interest in you if you ain't willing to beef with each other once or twice during the relationship.

Vi and Jinx's taste in partners is anyone who can square tf up against them. They learned from their papas.

[penbattles]

The Lovers

.

COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN!!

[shouyuus]

18+, pitfighter!vi brainrot, bc its girl-dinner time tw: sorta smut, sorta obsessive!vi, codependent relationship, not quite yandere but the vibes r kinda there, but still fluffy bc im me duh

pitfighter!vi who fucks you like she's trying to leave a part of herself inside you, who holds you so hard that the next morning, you wake up to the blue-tinted ghosts of her fingers along your hips and thighs, the dull blossoming bruises littering your neck and shoulders, rings in the shape of her teeth like strange, demented flowers (or perhaps like footprints) the way they trail along your skin, inked there for all to see.

pitfighter!vi who fights like she's trying to break everyone else in the same way she wishes she were broken herself, all fevered, focused rage, and none of the restraint. no patience, only the blunted sting of a punch well-aimed, an elbow to the ribs, a knee to the groin, spit trailing out the edge of her mouth, a grin crooked and bloody hinged between her lips bc she knows when she looks up and scans the crowd, she'll inevitably find you there, watching her with your wide, alluring eyes.

pitfighter!vi who thinks she knows the depths and widths of hunger, has seen and felt it all, growing up in the lanes, and there are so many different kinds, aren't there? the kind that aches dull and deep in the stomach, the kind that claws and roars open in her chest, the kind that tingles like spider-poison all along the length of her spine. still, she's never quite felt a hunger like this -- the kind that threatens to consume her from the inside out the first time she sees you, and at first, it might've been a wholly vindictive thing -- perhaps its because there'd been something in the shadow of your smile that reminds her of -- well, it doesn't matter.

but the first time she kisses you (in the crush of bodies on a crowded dance floor, the music too loud, the bottom of her boots tacky with spilled drinks and blood and whatever else), you'd run your thumb along the line of her jaw so gently, traced the lines of her face with a touch so soft it ran a fissure through her car-alarm heart, and when she'd pulled away, you'd smiled as if she'd given you something other than just the jagged, broken bits of herself.

later, you'd told her that you still appreciated it then. bc it looked like that was all she could afford to give; and she gave it to you anyway.

pitfighter!vi who does not think she will ever get enough of you, and still, the more she gets, the more you give, the deeper the hunger grows. it yawns open inside her, huge and dark and cavernous, carving into her the more that it's fed, and by the gods do you feed it -- the way your head tilts back to allow her access to the smooth expanses of your throat, the darling, moon-lit landscape of your bare chest and shoulders, the way you're so pliant beneath her, your trust pouring from you like drink. and she drinks. and drinks. and drinks.

drinks till she's head-dizzy and heart-full. drinks till her vision blurs but for the sight of you, the shape of you so familiar to her waking moments it does not shock her in the least the first time she wakes up in the morning to the after-images of you in her dreams.

pitfighter!vi who, for the first time in her life thought she had lost all direction, but now -- she feels like at least there's still someone worth protecting, worth fighting for. and she knows, she knows it's not entirely healthy, how much and how hard she falls for you, knows that perhaps it is not the best thing for a woman like her to make someone like you the still-point of her turning universe, you, who manages to shine despite the grime that collects in the city around you. you, who is softness made into an act of defiance, who, one night, curled against her side, told her that there's a certain vindication to smiling in the face of a world who would love nothing more than to rip the joy, bleeding and raw from your throat.

"it's not always easy... actually," you laugh, the sound sweet as spring water as it trickles over her skin, "it's really fucking hard but... why not do it anyway?"

"what, be happy?" her own voice is low and cracked from the fight earlier that night. but you'd kissed a line down her throat and told her that you loved it when she moaned.

"yeah. if the whole world wants us sad and angry... what bigger fuck you is there than to be... happy?"

pitfighter!vi who lets you draw the dark lines down her cheeks, but they're neater than she'd done them herself, who kisses your fingertips when they're stained with the black of her hair-dye, who laughs fully for the first time in... she doesn't even remember how long, when you lean forward and trace a tiny mustache with the leftover ink on your fingers right over her mouth. who sinks into the sound of your laughter like a warm bath, letting it soak into her sore muscles, unspool the tension coiled in her shoulders, the rictus threatening to settle in the set of her knuckles.

she lets you sooth over the harms and hurts that had followed behind her, nipping at her heels like disobedient dogs her whole life, lets you kiss her brows and pull her behind you as you point at the new graffiti art that wasn't there the week before.

pitfighter!vi who has always had a fierce love for zaun because it's her home, but has never stopped to consider just how beautiful of a place it is until she meets you -- and it is beautiful, an angry, pulsing, rebellious beauty, raw and dripping with shimmer-soaked ichor. a beauty carved of disparate limbs and desperate parts, one that is hard-earned and well-fought, the same beauty found in the darkest hours of night, right before the morning dawns, the same beauty she finds reflected back at her when she sees her blurred reflection in a pool of spilt blood on the fighting pit's arena floor.

zaun hums to the tune of debauchery, and for the first time, she's with someone who allows her to be greedy, allows her the breadth and width of wanting so freely. and she thinks it might be spiraling into a full-blown obsession, the way she can't go three seconds without thinking about you, wondering where you are, what you're doing, what you're up to. and you always tell her, tell her about the flowers you saw growing from a crack in the sidewalk, the shaft of sunlight hitting a shard of broken glass in just the right way, how sometimes if you close your eyes and listen, the ticking and clicking noises that run like a baseline thrum through the entire city almost sounds like birdsong.

pitfighter!vi who can't say she's ever fallen properly in love (she thinks that perhaps, once, she got real close), but wonders if this is what it feels like, to feel the void of your physical absence like the itch of a phantom limb, so she does everything she can to keep you close, glares at people if their eyes linger too long on you as the pair of you walk down the street, doubles down on her training regime so that she can fend of anyone who even breathes wrong in your direction.

who can't help pouting every time you pull away to do anything -- to grab another bag of snacks, to ask the bartender for another drink, to listen to something loris is saying -- she has to tamp down the urge to pull you back, to meld you to her side and never let go.

pitfighter!vi who starts to get more strategic with her fights, who saves up money now bc she wants to take you out to dinner, or just buy you nice things once in a while. who spends way too many hexes and cogs on a bouquet of fresh flowers, ones that aren't tainted or bred with the faint, sickly shine of shimmer, and she thinks its all worth it to watch the smile break across your face like dawn over a brand new day -- brilliant, blinding.

she blinks, watching with a fond smile as you fuss over the flowers in your tiny apartment, the space small but cozy, everything neat and in its place. you put the flowers into a tall, slightly chipped glass mug and set them by the window, admiring them from this angle, then that.

"y'like them, angel?"

you nod, grinning as you throw your arms around her, "i love them, vi! i love them so much!"

"good. i'm glad you like 'em. just..." her voice trails off; you cock your head.

"just, what?"

she shrugs, "ah -- just, i always thought it was sad getting flowers cause... they'll wilt someday, right?"

but when she looks back at you, still caught up in her arms, you're still smiling. and there's a fox-fire glint in your eyes that makes something in her stomach twist hot.

"well, there's one kind of flower that won't wilt that i wouldn't mind having here all the time..."

vi blinks, a dry heat creeping up the back of her throat, her heart a wild, fluttering thing caught beneath her cage of ribs.

"yeah?" her voice is hoarse as she swallows around the hope pooling on her tongue like blood. "and what kinda flower is that?"

you lean in, your breath a whisper along her parted lips.

"violets."

pitfighter!vi who moves in three days later, with nothing but some old clothes and her punching bag, which you'd already made room for (somehow) hung up from one of the high rafters in the kitchen, next to the tiny dining table tucked into the corner. who spends the next three days fucking you on every available surface (and some unavailable ones, like against the fridge for instance), telling you that it's only right to christen things now that you're officially living together.

who doesn't bother to wonder if things are moving too fast, and dives in head first because that's the only ways she's ever known to how to do things. who thinks, blithely to herself one night, the warm shape of you curled next to her, sleeping so soundly it almost breaks her heart, that you're probably the first good thing she's ever gotten stuck on -- and she's gotten stuck on a lot of things (fighting, boxing, the guilt, the shame, the anger, the world-ending sorrow of losing it all). its one of the things vander had always warned her about.

"you get into things too hard, kiddo -- gotta learn to pace yourself."

but she doesn't care, because hard's what she was raised on, and it's how she plans on loving you, god, if it's the last thing she does, right or wrong, so be it.

pitfighter!vi who still has her bad nights, still drinks a bit too much sometimes, but at least you're always there to keep her from going too far. and you're the only one who can pull her back, the only one she'll listen to when you tug the drink away from her hands and slide it down the bar towards loris, who'll eye it for a second before downing it and settling up the tab, nodding towards you even as you sling an arm around vi's middle to lead her out of the bar.

who still wakes up screaming some nights, her eyes wide and unseeing, scrabbling at you, tugging you into her if only to bury her face in your shoulder, her whole body wracked with dry-heaving sobs.

"my sister used to think there were monsters under the bed, and make me check down there every night before going to bed," she murmurs, her face inches from yours, her words soft and ever so slightly slurred.

you brush your fingers against her cheek, a comforting, repetative motion -- back and forth, back and forth, till her lashes flutter shut.

"guess she was right... but the monsters never wanna stay under the bed, do they? it's like they always... wanna come out and play..."

you let out a breathy laugh, "or maybe," you offer, your voice low and soothing, "they're just as scared as you are. and they're just looking for someone to scare their own monsters away."

pitfighter!vi who is still not good at slow, but sometimes, when she kisses you, she wishes that had the power to hit pause on time, just so she could stretch out the moment and kiss you forever. she thinks that she'll never be good at patience, but sometimes, when you tell her just gimme a sec! when she's waiting for you to get ready before going out to dinner at jericho's or just for a round of drinks at the bar round the corner, her leaning against the doorway watching as you put the finishing touches of your makeup on yourself in the kitchen mirror -- she thinks she'd give you every last second of the rest of her life if you ever asked her to.

pitfighter!vi who, recently, has really, really started hoping that someday soon, you'll actually ask her to.

taglist: @traiitorjoe @rizzscary @wetcat020 @alex-thegiraffeboyy @nanasemo @saturnhas82moons @unear7hly @drsnowrose @grantaires-waistcoat @isab3lita @ally-all-around @starrysetup22 @lipsent - join the taglist

[bi-dykes]

This ship dynamic remains superior

[jjkyaoi]

“what’s gayer the lesbian sex or jayvik” the lesbians. the canon lesbians. can we focus on women loving women relationships for once and not try to bring ur fucking fake yaoi into Everything oh my god y’all piss me tf OFF

[arrakisser]

yeah.

[centaur-dreaming]

stOP HURTING HER!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!!!

[ysaona]

I need to get in between her legs. *ੈ𑁍༘⋆

[unoislazy]

Promises

Vi x Reader (Part One)

(Childhood friends to lovers)

You and Vi had been friends for as long as you could remember, which is why it took you by surprise she would make such a irrational decision without telling you.

A/N:Just a little something something. A prologue, if you will.

For as long as you can remember you’ve been part of the undercity. Such a fate never really bothered you. Your family life was broken and your chance of survival was quite low, but you miraculously had made some friends who looked out for you, and you did the same for them.

And among that group of friends was a girl whom you grew to care about to a deeper extent than you could ever even begin to fathom.

When she wasn’t out stealing or picking fights with people, she was with you, hanging out and having fun. Forgetting what horrors life in the caverns below the glistening city of progress held.

That girl, of course, was Vi.

You walked through the darkened streets of the city, your feet carelessly walking through puddles of water that was contaminated with liquids you’d rather not waste your thoughts on finding out. You kept your head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone looking to pick a fight, and keeping yourself as compact as possible incase you needed to book it. Such is the way of the fissures.

Your tensed state lasted only until you reached your usual hang out spot, The Last Drop. It was owned by Vander, a man with a big heart and even bigger gauntlets. He looked out for any kid that crossed his path, despite how weak it made him seem to some of the others around him, who grew restless with his complaisance in the grand structure of things.

That, however, did not concern you. All you cared for was seeing your best friend.

Just before you could fling the door open and make your usual obnoxious entrance, the door opened with a swift tug and almost caused you to stumble forward.

You looked up slightly and made eye contact with none other than Vi.

But something was wrong.

Something was very wrong.

Her eyes fluttered open a little wider than they normally rested, her pupils focusing on your quickly as she moved back a bit in the door way. Clearly she wasn’t expecting you.

“Vi, What’s up?” You asked, a smile on your face to mask your concerns but anyone with a brain could see past it without much effort. Your eyebrows creased as you realized she was no longer looking at you. The pink haired girl let out a quick sigh before grabbing your hand and moving past you.

“Come on.” She said in a quieter tone than normal. You of course followed suit with little to no arguments, your main concern was just figuring out what was wrong. It wasn’t long before she stopped, taking you both into an alley way only a few feet from the bar as she let go of your hand. You couldn’t help but notice the absence of warmth as she did, but you shook the thought from you head nonetheless as you looked back toward her.

“Vi?” You called out quietly, moving your face a bit more towards your line of sight, almost as if you were forcing her to look at you. This only resulted in another sigh before she took a pause. She wanted to say something.

She was dying to say something.

“Vi, whatever it is, would you just spill it. You’re killing me here.” You remarked sarcastically, trying to lighten the very clearly damper mood as you continued to stare at her.

She then, finally, turned back towards you. She moved her bandages hands gently on to both of your shoulders as she stared at you.

“You remember that job that went to shit topside right?” She asked, now looking you dead in the eyes. Her blue eyes seemed to care the weight of a lot of stress, a lot of which you knew she was keeping on herself as to not burden anyone else with it. How you wished she would listen to you when you said she could tel you anything.

You finally nodded in response to her question.

“Of course I remember, who doesn’t?” You replied in an obvious manner.

“Well, the enforcers want someone to take the blame for that crime.” She continued, her hands still gently grasping both your shoulders as if to keep you from running away. You were firmly planted regardless of whether she let go or not, what could possibly turn you away from her?

“Okay…? But it’s not like you had anything to do with it so why does that matter?”

It was then you watched as Vi’s lips pressed into a thin line. The crease in her brow faded as she looked at you with a softened gaze. Only then did it click for you.

“Wait so you… you’re going to let them take you?”

“It’s the only way to fix what’s happening.” She replied quickly as if she was prepared for your protests. However, it only further progressed your confusion.

“Fix what? What’s happening?” You asked.

Then it dawned on you, she was keeping things from you once again for the sake of “protecting” you. You absolutely despised when she kept you out of the loop with things she knew you’d want a hand in if you had known about.

“I can’t explain just-“ She tried to respond, but you cut her off.

“What do you mean you can’t explain? Just tell me.” You practically pleaded.

“Look it’s just… it’s a long story but I-“ She once again tried to excuse, only for you to cut her off.

“No, Vi. Why won’t you ever tell me anything until you’ve already made a decision! Did one else get a say in this? How are you so sure this fix anything?” You exclaimed. You could feel her grip on your shoulders ever so slightly tighten as our words became more laced with desperate anger.

“It will. It has to.” She responded simply, to which you retorted,

“And what if it doesn’t? Hm? What if it doesn’t fix anything, Vi. You know an enforcers word doesn’t count for shit how can you-“

“I have to try.” She once again responded simply.

“Vi please would you just-“ By now your anger has dwindled and you were just simply desperate to try and talk her out of this.

“I have to do this!” She shouted. You noticed she was no longer looking at you, but now at the floor.

“Why?” You exclaimed.

“Because it’s the only way to protect the people I care about from my own mistakes! I did this. This is my fault, I thought we were ready, I thought we could handle it but… but I was wrong. And now I’ve put them all in danger and I- I have to make up for this.”

You went quiet. Classic Vi. Taking the blame all to herself when there’s more than enough to go around. One could almost call her selfish.

“And what about me? Were you planning on telling me about this before you decided to throw yourself to the wolves?” You responded quietly.

“I figured it would be best if you didn’t know what happened.” She said, he words just barely above a whisper as her view slowly worked its way back up to your eyes.

“What so I could instead just, I don’t know, think you died?”

“I don’t know I just-“

“Maybe it’s better if I found out you gave yourself over and I had no idea.”

“Just-“

“Or Maybe, I would’ve been really dense about it and would’ve just thought you were really good at avoiding me. Maybe that’s the better outcome.”

“Stop!” She shouted, her hand had swiftly moved from your shoulders and planted firmly on either side of your face. She gently held you in place, keeping you looking at her.

“Just… stop. Okay, maybe I didn’t think it through very well but I just wanted to protect you… okay? In the only way I knew how.”

“You don’t have to protect everyone, Vi.”

She didn’t respond.

Classic Vi.

You sighed, knowing that she was dead set on her decision and nothing was going to change that. Not even you.

“Look. If you’re… really set on doing this you have to promise me one thing, okay?”

She looked back, a hopeful glint in her eyes.

“When you come back, and you will come back, you’ll start opening up more. Okay?”

This earned a slight chuckle from the pink haired girl as she looked towards you.

“And… promise you’ll come back.” You added on. The playful look in your eye faded as you realized there was no promising such a thing. You both knew fairly well that this was likely going to be the last time you’d ever see each other again. Both such is the way of a child, you held out on a naive string of hope.

Vi nodded carefully, as if deep in thought. Her eyes jumped from feature to feature on your face, committing it to memory as she the suddenly engulfed you in a hug.

“I promise.”

That was the last time you saw her. You don’t even know how many years it’s been since the incident. Once word spread that Vander and the others had died, you and everyone else assumed that meant Vi died along side them. You held out hope that maybe one day, she’d miraculously reappear, but as the years dragged on your focus strayed from your old friend and more onto your own survival.

The Undercity is an eat or be eaten kind of place.

What good would you fair Vi if you got eaten?

[likeprongstostars]

my application to join the bartylus club i missed them a lot

[tankuare]

The level of absolute TOMFOOLERY from these two needs to be studied

[rougesquadron9]

i will NEVER shut up about the betrayal factor between cait and vi because WHAT.

like cait.. that was CRUEL. you left that poor girl SOBBING. ALONE. after u promised her u would never change…

IM SOBBING .

😰😰

[anamina0]

Echoes

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV , Part V , Part VI

Summary: It’s not her, you told yourself firmly, gripping the edge of the couch like it was the only thing keeping you upright. You’re overthinking. Imagining things.

Warnings/themes : fluff, kissing, very slight explicit content, mentions of weed

Word count: 5.6k

You jumped off the bar counter, landing on the worn wooden floor just as Vi tossed your dress at you with that lazy smirk you were starting to know all too well. You caught it mid-air, quickly slipping it over your head as the relentless banging on the door continued. “Shit,” you mumbled, fumbling to fix your hair, panic making your fingers clumsy. Behind you, Vi leaned against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, her head tilted slightly. A soft chuckle escaped her lips, and when you turned to glare at her, she looked utterly unbothered, her smirk growing wider. “What?” she teased, her tone playful.

You couldn’t help but laugh back, shaking your head as you opened the door, still smiling despite the chaos.

“I forgot my keys,” Revek said, standing in the doorway looking sheepish. His eyes darted between you and the room behind you, and it didn’t take long for him to piece together what he had interrupted. You rolled your eyes, stepping aside to let him in without a word. His gaze swept over the bar, the scattered glasses, the half-done cleanup job. He didn’t say anything, but his raised eyebrows said enough.

“Looks like someone got carried away with cleaning the bar,” Revek said sarcastically as he made his way to the back door.

“I think someone’s about to get fired,” Vi whispered, her voice low as she leaned in close to your ear. Her breath was warm against your skin, and you shoved her back with a laugh.

“Shut up,” you muttered, though you couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face.

Vi bit her lip, clearly trying to hold back her laughter.

Revek returned, shaking his head as he headed toward the exit. “I was knocking for way too long,” he said, clearly unimpressed.

“Yeah, we got carried away,” Vi said, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Sure thing,” Revek replied flatly as he walked out the door, leaving the two of you alone once again.

The rest of the night was quieter, the kind of quiet that buzzed with unspoken words. You both worked on tidying the bar, though your focus wavered every time your eyes met hers. She’d glance at you from across the room, her lips curving into a soft smile, and your heart would skip a beat. You started bumping into her on purpose, brushing past her as she collected glasses from tables. Each time, her reaction was the same—a chuckle, followed by her hands on your waist, moving you aside like she was trying to tame a playful dance partner. Only this wasn’t dancing. This was something else entirely. Something you didn’t have the words for but could feel in every charged glance, every stolen moment. The walk home was no different. The streetlights cast a dim glow over the empty roads, and for the most part, the two of you walked in silence. But the tension between you was undeniable. Every so often, you’d glance at her, only to catch her already watching you. Neither of you said anything, but you’d smile, and she’d smile back, and those butterflies you tried to ignore would take flight all over again. When you finally reached the stairs to your apartments, she grabbed your hand, her fingers brushing yours in a way that made your breath catch. You stopped outside her door, but she didn’t let go.

“I can’t let you get home alone,” she said, her voice low and teasing, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest. “I’m literally one floor up. I think I can manage.”

Her smirk softened into something sweeter, but she didn’t argue. She followed you up the stairs to your apartment, stopping just outside your door. You unlocked it and stepped inside, half-expecting her to follow. But when you turned around, she was still standing in the hallway, her eyes fixed on you with a warmth that made your heart ache. She stepped closer, her fingers brushing your cheek in the gentlest touch.

“I think that's it for today,” she murmured, her voice soft, almost hesitant.

You understood what she meant. She knew exactly how you felt—how scared you were of moving too fast, of losing yourself in something you weren’t ready for. She wasn’t rushing you, wasn’t pushing. She was just there, taking the steps with you, one at a time.

“It is,” you whispered, leaning into her touch as you closed your eyes. “I didn’t expect to end the night like this.”

She smiled, her thumb brushing over your skin. “Was it a bad ending?”

You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping you. “No. It was nice.”

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek, right where her tattoo curved along her skin. Her breath hitched, just for a moment, before her arms wrapped around you, pulling you close.

She buried her face in the crook of your neck, her warmth seeping into you as you melted into her embrace. You didn’t even try to stop yourself from hugging her back, inhaling her scent and committing it to memory.

“Thank you for understanding, Vi,” you mumbled, your voice thick with emotion. “You’re so… gentle.”

Her grip on you tightened, just for a second. “You’re worth it,” she said softly, her voice steady, sure.

When she finally let go, the warmth of her lingered, spreading through you long after she was gone. Butterflies still danced in your stomach as you closed the door, your mind replaying the night’s moments over and over again.

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

The café buzzed with quiet chatter, the occasional clink of cups and the hum of conversation blending into the background. You nudged Ellie with your shoulder, breaking her out of her silent thoughts.

“Well?” you asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “What do you think?”

Ellie tilted her head, her brows furrowed in thought as she hesitated. Finally, she muttered, “She seems… different.” She added a light shrug, clearly trying to keep the mood easy.

“Yeah, she is,” you said, standing up and grabbing your jacket. Ellie followed your lead, pulling on her own. “I remember when we first met. I was still working at that crappy arts and crafts store—God, I hated that place. She just walked in, looking so lost, like a freaking puppy.” You laughed at the memory, heading toward the door. Ellie trailed behind you, hands stuffed in her pockets, but her gaze stayed locked on you, her soft smile encouraging you to continue.

“I walked up to her to see if she needed help, but the second she started talking, her whole vibe changed. Like, her gaze—it just flipped. I swear, it was like I was talking to a completely different person. I’ve never seen anything like it.” The two of you exited the café, and as soon as the chill of the late afternoon air hit, Ellie slipped her hand into yours, her thumb brushing gentle circles against your skin as she listened.

“She started coming around more often,” you continued, your voice dipping slightly, “then one day, she invited me over. She showed me her drawings, and, well… one thing led to another.” You glanced at Ellie, her loving eyes catching yours, and you felt warmth spread through your chest. “Now she’s practically my best friend. Weirdest person I know, though. She’s got the craziest stories.” You laughed, the sound light and genuine, as the two of you made your way back to the apartment you shared.

The walk home was filled with comfortable silence, Ellie's hand never leaving yours. Every now and then, her thumb brushed against your knuckles, the subtle gesture grounding you in a way that made your heart flutter. When you finally reached the apartment, you pushed the door open, stepping inside and shrugging off your jacket. Ellie followed close behind, her boots thudding softly against the floor. As you caught sight of yourself in the hallway mirror, you frowned, noticing how messy your hair had gotten in the cold wind. Reaching up, you started fixing it, but as you adjusted a stray strand, you caught Ellie’s reflection behind you. She was watching you intently, her expression unreadable at first, but then her lips curved into a small, crooked smile. She stepped closer, her presence almost magnetic.

“You’re beautiful,” she murmured, her raspy voice sending a shiver down your spine. Before you could reply, she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss just beneath your ear.

“Mhm,” you managed, your voice catching in your throat. Her touch completely threw you off guard.

“You are,” she insisted, her lips trailing lower, planting feather-light kisses along the curve of your neck.

“Ellie…” you whispered, her name barely audible as your breath hitched. She didn’t stop. Her hands slid around your waist, nimble fingers slowly unzipping your jeans.

“Shhh,” she hushed, her voice low and commanding, sending another jolt of heat through you. Her hand slipped beneath the fabric of your panties, her fingers brushing against your already wet core, her touch electrifying.

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

“Shit.” The word slipped out as your eyes fluttered open. The morning light didn’t bother you as much as the realization of where your thoughts had gone. Her. Again. You dragged a hand across your face, hoping to wipe away the remnants of a dream you didn’t want to admit you’d had. It was her, always her. As if she’d carved out a permanent place in your mind, one she visited uninvited. But this time felt different. That familiar ache, the longing for her, seemed to be fading, replaced by something sharper. Anger. She had already wrecked your life once, shattered it like glass, leaving you to piece it back together alone. And now? Now, even from afar, she still managed to haunt you, to stir up chaos where you wanted peace. You clenched your jaw, wishing more than anything to tear her memory out of your head.

Especially now.

You thought of someone else—her. Someone new. Someone who had slipped into your life in a way you hadn’t expected. Someone who made you feel alive in ways you didn’t know you still could. She wasn’t perfect; far from it, actually. Infuriating at times, quick with sharp, sarcastic remarks . She could be reckless, explosive, and maddening. But there was something about her—something raw and honest.

And beautiful.

God, she was beautiful.

Her face crept into your mind, unbidden. Light blue eyes, piercing and electric, capable of softening in rare, quiet moments. The curve of her nose, the strong lines of her jaw, and those tattoos that seemed to tell a story you were desperate to understand. Her muscles—lean and powerful—moved like they carried the weight of the world. And when she touched you. Even a fleeting brush of her hand seemed to burn itself into your skin, leaving you breathless.You shook your head, catching yourself smiling like an idiot.

“SHIT,” you muttered again, this time with more exasperation than frustration. It was ridiculous, the whole thing. A mess of feelings tangled up in someone who was so far from uncomplicated. The sharp scrape of a chair against the floor grounded you, breaking the trance. You pushed yourself out of bed and headed for the kitchen, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts. As you cracked eggs into a pan, the irony of it all hit you. Here you were, trying to rebuild your life, to move forward. And yet, your mind was still a battleground. One ghost wouldn’t leave, and another figure—a very real one—was taking up more and more space every day.

All day at work, your mind refused to stay in the present. Every time you wiped down a table or carried a tray, your thoughts drifted back to her—to Vi. Last night’s moments played over and over again, a mix of warmth and uncertainty stirring in your chest. But one thing was clear: it was your turn now. She’d been so gentle with you, so careful, and all you wanted was to show her the same. She deserved to know how much you wanted this… whatever this was.

On your way home, you stopped at the corner market, grabbing a few sweets that caught your eye. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a start. You clutched the bag tightly as you walked to her apartment, your steps slowing the closer you got. And then you were standing in front of her door, heart pounding in your chest.

You hesitated.

What if this was a mistake? What if you were pushing too much, too soon? But then you thought of her, the way she smiled at you, the way she held you so gently last night, like you were something precious. You couldn’t back out now. Taking a deep breath, you knocked softly, just a few taps, as if testing the waters.

You waited. Nothing.

Biting your lip, you knocked again, this time louder. Still, no answer. The silence in the hallway felt deafening, pressing down on you like a weight.

“Maybe she’s not home,” you mumbled to yourself, backing away slowly. But as you turned to head to your own apartment, the doubts crept in.

What if she was home and just didn’t want to see you? What if she regretted last night? What if she thought this was a mistake? Maybe you scared her off. Or worse, maybe she was at some bar with another girl, someone less complicated, someone who wasn’t as broken as you were. You slammed your apartment door shut behind you, leaning against it as your chest tightened. The thoughts wouldn’t stop.

“Why would she want someone like me?” you muttered, pacing the room. “Why would anyone want to deal with all this? broken pieces of what could be a person"

The panic bubbled up inside you, threatening to spill over. You couldn’t take it anymore—the overthinking, the fear, the ache in your chest. You needed to calm down. Then you remembered the stash of weed tucked away in your drawer. It wasn’t much, but it would help take the edge off.

Minutes later, you were on the couch, the soft glow of the lamp the only light in the room. The smoke swirled around you, the quiet hum of your breath the only sound. You took a long puff, then another, letting the haze settle over you like a blanket. Your racing thoughts began to slow, blurring together until they were almost incoherent.

But still, glimpses of her snuck through the fog. Her face, her laugh, her touch—they lingered, like a faint melody you couldn’t shake. You reached for the bag of sweets, unwrapping one and popping it into your mouth.

“You don’t even know if she likes these,” you muttered, scoffing at yourself. “Why would you buy something you’re not even sure she’d want?” You grabbed another, chewing absentmindedly as your thoughts drifted. “What does she like?” you wondered aloud. “Street food, probably. She seems like the kind of person who’d get fries from a truck at 2 a.m. And blue… she’d like blue. It suits her.” You smiled to yourself, thinking of her tattoos, her strong hands, the way her voice softened when she spoke to you. “She probably loves boxing. She’d be amazing at it,” you mused, picturing her in the ring, confident and unstoppable.

And then the knock came. It was soft but deliberate, pulling you from your thoughts instantly. Your heart leapt in your chest as you sat up, the bag of sweets tumbling to the floor. For a moment, you just stared at the door, frozen.

Could it be her?

You stood, your legs unsteady as you walked over. Slowly, you opened the door, and there she was. Vi stood in the hallway, her hair slightly messy, her hands shoved into her jacket pockets. Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile when she saw you, her light blue eyes flicking down to the bag of sweets on the floor.

“Hey,” she said, her voice low and warm.

“I knocked like 5 times.”

You blinked, your mind struggling to catch up. “I—uh—didn’t hear it,” you stammered, stepping aside to let her in.

Vi glanced around your apartment as she walked in, her presence immediately filling the space. She noticed the faint smell of smoke lingering in the air and raised an eyebrow. “Rough day?”

You nodded, biting your lip. “Something like that.”

Her gaze softened as she stepped closer, her hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “You okay?”

The concern in her voice made your chest tighten, and suddenly, everything you’d been feeling threatened to spill out. But instead, you just nodded, swallowing hard.

“I, uh… I brought these for you,” you said, gesturing to the sweets on the floor. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I just… guessed.”

Vi crouched down, picking up the bag. She pulled out one of the candies, inspecting it with a small smile before popping it into her mouth. “Not bad,” she said, her voice light. “But next time, just ask me.”

“Next time?” you echoed, your heart skipping a beat.

She grinned, her hands sliding down to take yours. “Yeah, next time. I’m not going anywhere.” And just like that, the doubts, the fears, the panic—it all faded away. Standing there with her, her hands warm against yours, you felt the butterflies return, fluttering wildly in your chest. The room felt like it was spinning, the world soft and blurry from how high you were. You slouched back into the couch, your limbs heavy, your head tilting lazily as you looked at her. She stood near the window, her face lit by the faint streetlights outside.

“I mean, you have to smoke,” you mumbled, your voice sluggish but steady. You waved vaguely toward her. “I can’t be alone like this.”

Her laugh was soft, but it had that playful edge that made you focus on her. She walked over, slow and calm, like nothing in the world could rush her.

"I don’t mind,” she said, sliding onto the couch beside you. She reached over to the ashtray, plucking the joint sitting there, and with a spark of her lighter, took a long drag. Her exhale drifted through the room, curling into the air between you two. The moment felt still, almost too quiet.

“I thought you were ignoring me,” you blurted suddenly, a mix of nerves and blunt honesty spilling out before you could stop yourself.

She glanced at you, that smirk pulling at her lips. “I wasn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “I was just… helping a friend with something.”

“You’re always so secretive,” you said, turning to face her more. She didn’t reply, not right away. Instead, she grabbed the bag of candies , tossing one into her mouth casually. Her cheek puffed out just slightly as she chewed, the moment annoyingly nonchalant.

“You’re sharing something,” you mocked her lightly, narrowing your eyes. “And then you go right back to being mysterious again. Typical.”

She smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she popped another candy into her mouth. “Thought you said these were ’just okay.’”

Her words made you laugh, and it almost annoyed you how easily she got under your skin.

“You’re funny. I’ll give you that,” she said, turning slightly to face you now, her grin still faint but there.

“Oh yeah?” you leaned in just a little, the playful teasing in your tone impossible to hide. “What else am I?”

She tilted her head like she was actually thinking about it, but there was something sharp behind her smile.

“You’re kinda annoying sometimes,” she said, with that pretend innocence that had your stomach twisting. “Like, you have to be in control of everything happening around you.” She paused, as if adding more weight to her words. “And, you can be infuriating—actually unbearable sometimes.”

You scoffed, pretending to be offended, but before you could fire back, she continued, her voice softening in a way that made your chest feel tight.

“But,” she said, her tone lower now, more serious, “you’re really smart. You don’t miss anything. Like, you can read people—read me—before I even realize what I’m feeling.” Her eyes flicked to yours, lingering a moment too long. “It’s… sexy.”

You couldn’t speak. Her words, the way she looked at you, the softness in her voice—it left you frozen, but also craving more.

“And you’re brave,” she continued, leaning in slightly. “Brave in that reckless, impossible way. You never back down. No matter what’s in front of you.” There was something raw in the way she said it, something that hit deeper than you expected.

Her hand drifted to the couch, brushing close to yours but not quite touching. Her eyes dropped, lingering on your lips as her voice softened even more.

“And you’re beautiful,” she whispered.

Her words made your heart pound. You couldn’t stop yourself anymore—not after hearing all that. Slowly, carefully, you leaned in, closing the small space between you until your lips brushed hers.She didn’t pull away. She leaned into you, letting the kiss grow deeper. Your lips moved together slowly, each touch more electric than the last, her breath soft against your skin. When you finally pulled back, it was just an inch, but enough to make her lean forward like she didn’t want the kiss to end.

“You ignored what I said,” you teased, voice low, barely above a mumble.

She let out a shaky breath, clearly thrown by the moment. “Fine,” she said, her voice quiet but steady now. “Ask me anything you want.”Maybe it was the high. Maybe it was the warmth of her body next to yours. Whatever it was, the words came out before you had a chance to second-guess them.

“Who’s Cait?”

Her whole body stiffened, and for a second, you thought she wouldn’t answer. But then, she turned to you, her expression carefully unreadable.

“Only girl I’ve ever loved before,” she admitted, her voice soft but clear.

“Your ex?” you asked, trying to add a playful edge to lighten things. “Tell me she’s your ex.”

She gave a short laugh, but it sounded a little off. “We weren’t actually together,” she said, almost like she was ashamed of it.

“Oh, damn,” you muttered, blinking in surprise. “Ouch. That must’ve hurt. What happened? Let me guess—she was in love with someone else or something?”

Her eyes flicked to the floor, and she sighed before answering. “How do I even say this?” Her voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. “She… she got me out of prison.”

Your jaw dropped. “Prison?! Wait, hold up. You were in prison?”

She let out a faint laugh, the corner of her mouth twitching. “For eight years.”

“EIGHT YEARS?! When—how—what the hell?” You sat up straighter, the words spilling out in disbelief.

“I was fifteen when I got there,” she said with a shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal.

You stared at her, trying to piece it all together. “Wait, hold on. You’ve been in prison since you were a kid? What even happened?”

She shook her head slightly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll tell you everything. But not now, later,” she said firmly. Then, her voice dropped, just slightly teasing. “It’s my turn now anyway.”

You felt your stomach twist as her gaze turned sharp again. You already knew what was coming.

“Who’s Ellie?” she asked.

Your breath caught in your throat. You stared at her, the question hitting deeper than you wanted to admit.

“Stealing my question , huh?” you joked weakly, trying to stall. But the look in her eyes said she wasn’t letting it go.

“She’s the only girl I’ve ever loved,” you admitted finally. Your voice sounded strange to your own ears, raw and vulnerable.

“And?” she pressed gently.

“We were together for three years. Then, one day, she just… left.” You paused, swallowing hard. “She packed her bags while I was at work and just walked out. No goodbye. No explanation.” You hesitated before continuing. “She… left me wondering what I did wrong. And here I am.”

You stopped, glancing up at her. Her eyes were soft, and there was something in the way she looked at you that made you feel like the pieces of you might actually be okay one day.But before you could get lost in the moment, you asked what was burning at the edge of your thoughts. “Why was Cait looking for your sister?”

The question made her freeze again. She looked away for a moment, as though gathering herself. And then, she started to talk. Her story came out slowly, piece by piece. She told you everything—about Cait, her sister, and the impossible choices she had to make. It was one of the wildest, saddest, and most intense stories you’d ever heard. And yet, as she spoke, something deep in your chest began to stir. There was something about her story, it was like you heard it somewhere else, but couldn't quite gather where.

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

“I always had a feeling she couldn’t be trusted,” she mumbled, her raspy voice carrying just enough weight to make you glance her way. She was lounging in her usual devil-may-care style, legs stretched out, boots resting obnoxiously on the table.

“Well, I can’t say the same thing about me,” you muttered with a sarcastic chuckle, though the sadness in your voice betrayed you. You weren’t exactly hiding it well.

“Tell me about it,” she quipped, leaning back even further in her chair as if the entire world bored her. Her smirk was infuriating, her tone always teetering between teasing and dismissive. “So, what now? You gonna sit at home all day, dreaming about what could’ve been? Scribble some tragic poetry, maybe cry a little?”

“Shut up, Faye,” you groaned, shoving her boots off the table with a little more force than necessary. She stumbled slightly. She could be impossible, always in her own chaotic orbit, dragging you into her storms. But she was your best friend—your only friend—and that meant you put up with her.

“Go ahead, take it all out on me,” she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Like I’m the one who broke your heart and left you in pieces.” She reached for something random on the table, fiddling with it, probably just to keep herself entertained. Then, with a flicker of mischief in her eyes, she added, “Want me to mess her up? Like, real bad? I could do that, you know.”

“What? No!” You snapped your head toward her, heart skipping a beat because, knowing Faye, she wasn't bluffing. “Don’t you dare! I mean it.”

“Sheesh, relax,” she said with a lazy grin, waving you off like your concern was completely unwarranted. “I was just joking.” She paused, giving you a sideways glance. “Mostly.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. Faye was… Faye. Beneath all her reckless bravado and endless sarcasm, you knew she cared. She just had a strange way of showing it.

After a beat of silence, she spoke again, her tone softer this time, less guarded. “Maybe you should do what I did,” she said suddenly, leaning forward just a little. “Get out of this place. Have a fresh start. Forget all the crap tying you down.”

You exhaled deeply, her words hitting a nerve. The thought of leaving—leaving the chaos, leaving her—had crossed your mind more times than you could count. It sounded good, too good. But there was always the same question gnawing at you.

“Where am I supposed to go, though?” you asked quietly, sitting across from her now. Your gaze met hers, searching for some kind of answer. For once, she didn’t shoot back a quip or a smirk. Instead, her eyes dropped as she tucked a strand of her blue hair behind her ear.

“You could go to Zaun,” she murmured, almost like the name itself was a forbidden word.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Zaun? You’ve got to be kidding me. I know next to nothing about that place.”

“You know plenty,” she countered, a bit of her usual sharpness returning. “I’ve told you, like, a billion stories about it. More than enough to survive there.”

You hesitated " Maybe you can come with me" you mumbled

" I can’t go with you.”

“Why not?” you pressed, the idea of dragging Faye along suddenly sparking something hopeful in you. “You said you left some people behind there, like your—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted sharply, her voice hard enough to make you stop mid-sentence.

She stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “I can’t go back there,” she said, her tone now angry, maybe even hurt. “I’m better off without Zaun. And Zaun’s better off without me.”

You stared at her, confused and a little stunned. She stepped closer, her expression more serious than you’d ever seen.

“If you decide to go,” she said, her voice low but steady, “you have to promise me something.”

You blinked, unsure where this was headed. “What?”

"You can’t tell anyone about me,” she said, her words almost a whisper now, but they carried the weight of a thousand unspoken things. “Not a single soul. You have to promise me that.” Her eyes locked onto yours, and for the first time, you saw something raw in them—fear, maybe? Or regret? Either way, you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I promise,” you said, though you weren’t entirely sure who you were promising to protect—Faye, or yourself.

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

“You okay?” Vi’s voice pulled you out of your swirling thoughts. It was soft, but it struck like a jolt to your system. Your heart skipped a beat as your brain scrambled, clinging to distant memories that shouldn’t have been there.

It can’t be right, you thought. No, it can’t.

“Hey?” Vi said again, and this time her hand grazed yours. The small gesture made you flinch slightly, but it also tethered you to the present.Her brows knitted together, “Did I say something wrong?” Her voice had a slight edge of worry now, and that only made the heavy knot in your chest tighten further. You forced yourself to breathe, to focus, blinking a few times before your eyes finally met hers. Her worried expression only made your heart sink deeper.

“I’m…” You paused, the lump in your throat stubborn and unyielding. “I’m okay,” you lied, quickly pressing a fake smile onto your lips like armor.

She didn’t look convinced. Not even a little.

“I just need a glass of water,” you muttered, avoiding her eyes.

Before you could get up, Vi stood quickly, not hesitating for even a second. “Wait, I’ll get it,” she offered, already making her way to the kitchen. You stayed frozen, your body heavy against the couch. The sound of running water trickled through the quiet space, but your thoughts drowned it out completely.

It’s not her, you told yourself firmly, gripping the edge of the couch like it was the only thing keeping you upright. You’re overthinking. Imagining things.

“Here.”

Her voice sliced through the chaos in your head like a razor. You looked up just as she handed you the glass of water, her expression softer than you’d expected.

Vi tilted her head slightly, studying you like she was trying to solve a puzzle she didn’t understand. Her lips parted, as if she was about to say something, but instead, she stepped back, leaning against the side of the couch with her arms crossed.

“You sure you’re okay?” she asked again.

You nodded too quickly, taking a sip of water even though your hands were unsteady. “Yeah, totally fine,” you said, trying to sound casual.

But Vi didn’t buy it. Not even a little. Her eyes stayed locked on yours, intense and searching, and it made your pulse quicken.

“You’re a terrible liar, y’know,” she finally said, her tone laced with that same mix of teasing and concern she always seemed to master.

“I’m not lying,” you shot back, but even to your own ears, it sounded unconvincing.

Vi arched a brow, leaning slightly closer. “Right. And I’m the queen of Piltover,” she said, smirking faintly.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips, even if it was half-hearted.

The humor faded as quickly as it came, and her smirk softened, her head tilting as she studied you. “You were out of it for a second there,” she said. Her voice dropped, softer now. “What happened? What were you thinking about?”

Her question caught you off guard. You stared at her, the words building in your throat but refusing to come out.

“I just…” You hesitated, your grip tightening on the glass. “It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” she pressed gently, her gaze steady. “You don’t just zone out like that for no reason. If it’s not nothing, just tell me.”

You looked down at the water, watching the small ripples sway as your hands trembled faintly.

" it's nothing Vi, really " you lied once agin

Vi raised a brow but didn’t push. You looked at her again, studying the quiet strength in her expression, the way she was watching you so carefully. She didn’t look annoyed or impatient—she looked like she genuinely cared.

And that only made the storm in your chest worse.

Author's note: I'm not saying anything... just waiting for YOUR RESPONSE 👀Don't hesitate to message me, we can talk about it.

P.S. next chapters might take longer because I kind of wrote them before hand, I was just adding details, plus I had free time. I know where story is goinh but, writing such long fic is hard , so I might take a longer, I don't know for sure. But your response has been nothing but amazing! seriously , thank you anyone wro reads, comments, shares my story. your support means world!

[shouyuus]

18+, yet more vi-shaped brainrot, mndi

yes so we have all considered rugby/college roommate!vi but have we considered waterpolo/childhood bff!vi.

waterpolo!vi who's constantly at the pool, so much so that her sweat even on her gym days smell like chlorine. who will stand in the lockers with nothing but a towel around her waist, water still dripping down her body, tits out, just texting, grinning down at her phone bc she totally doesn't have post notifs on for your instagram... like who does that, right? but damn, you look cute in the little sundress you wore to brunch last sunday with your friends -- she wonders if you'll tell her about it at lunch later today.

waterpolo!vi who's been friends with you since childhood, and you were the one who go her into swimming because that one summer when you were both eight and your mom signed you up for swim-class, you cried for half and hour bc you said you weren't gonna know anyone there. and vi, being the amazing bff and neighbor that she is, of course, volunteered as tribute. she'd never forgotten how much fun it was to play in the shallows with you after the class had ended, splashing at each other, pretending to have a tea-party, sitting criss-cross at the bottom of the sun-soaked water, how you'd pulled your hair out of the swim-cap and let it halo around you in soft, wispy waves.

waterpolo!vi who definitely hasn't told you that she only applied to this uni (on a sports scholarship bc she knew that'd get her in) bc you said it was your top choice. thankfully, it has one of the better waterpolo teams, so you were ecstatic when you found out. who, by then, has definitely figured out that her affection for you is just a bit more than straight up bff status, but she also don't wanna fuck things up with you so she keeps her mouth shut. and really, she asks herself, what's the difference anyway? i mean, you hadn't even blinked when she brought up wanting to sign up for the same freshman dorms. ("of course we are! what, did you think i'd let anyone else be my roommate? gosh, it's like you don't know me at all!")

waterpolo!vi who tries to give you your own space (having practice every single day helps with that tbh), but can't help when her heart skips a lil every time you text her, or every time you post something on social media. she tells herself that it's okay to text back immediately, you've been friends for so long after all, right? that doesn't make her look weird or desperate? right? right.

waterpolo!vi who honestly still gets off to the memory of the one time the pair of you made out drunkenly at a party in high school -- it had been one of those backyard parties where everyone was drinking fucked up jungle juice and things were already a mess when you got there. but you were always down for a good time, and so was she, but somehow, it'd ended up with the pair of you curled up in a dark corner, your legs slung over her lap, her fingers inching up the hem of your spaghetti strap top, all eager, clumsy lips and needy little moans and the taste of your strawberry-mint glitter lipgloss.

waterpolo!vi who definitely tries a bit harder to show off whenever you come to her games, always checking the stands, her face lighting up whenever she spots you in the crowd, waving at her, cheering whenever she makes a goal. afterwards, she'd find flowers tucked into her locker and the rest of the team snickering at how red she's gotten staring at them before she towel-whips the nearest one and tells them all to shut up.

waterpolo!vi who asks you to come to the gym with her, promises it'll be chill and that she won't work you too hard, but nearly short-circuits when you show up in a pair of lululemon shorts and a sports bra, your hair tugged up into a high ponytail, telling her that you got these super cute stickers from a cafe you went to last week and have been meaning to give one of them to her so your water bottles can match. who makes good on her word of not working you too hard, but she definitely suffers in her own workout that day cause she's too busy watching you do squats (she tells herself its to make sure ur form is good but we all know the truth).

waterpolo!vi who freaks out when, on her birthday, the water polo team texts her and tells her to come to the pool house, alone. she thinks it's just another one of their weird pranks, but when the lights click on and you're standing there behind a massive cake with her name hung up behind you in lurid, bright pink blow up balloons, she freezes. and then a there's champagne popping and spraying at her, completely soaking her tanktop, sticking to her skin. you squeal, laughing as you shake a bottle towards her, grinning so wide she thinks her heart might burst.

"surprise! happy birthday!"

"holy shit -- oh yeah! it's my birthday!"

you roll your eyes, dabbing at some champagne that had gotten on your cheek, glancing at a few of the other girls.

"yeah, that's the thing with birthday's vi, they happen every year. and yet somehow every year, i'm the one that remembers its your birthday."

vi just grins, pulling you in to press a fat, wet kiss to your cheek, making you squirm bc she's literally soaked with champagne still, and a few of the girls on the team smirk in her direction when they make eye contact with her, but she only glares at them before going back to watching you fuss about the cake and how many slices to cut it into.

an idea slithers into her head, a truly insidious idea. but fuck it, it's her birthday, and she deserves to have a little fun (and she doesn't think you'll be too mad at her afterwards), so she inches her hand up till it's cradling the back of your head, then shoves your face into the top layer of the cake. you yelp, jerking back with your mouth wide open, icing smeared across your skin. everyone laughs, but vi only grins and wipes a bit of the sweet cream from your cheek, sucking her thumb into her mouth.

"mm delicious, princess. thanks."

you blink at her for a few seconds before sighing, attempting to wipe a bit more of the cake from your face, and falling into a fit of giggles as well.

"whatever, i guess if it makes you that happy," you say, accepting a few napkins from one of the girls on the team. someone else takes over cutting the cake, and a few un-spilled bottles of champagne are already being poured into red solo cups. "i'm gonna go clean up -- be right back."

vi watches you make for the lockers, but someone shoves her towards you. she turns to find several of her teammates motioning furiously in your direction, mouthing go, you fucker, go!

she teeters for a few seconds before jogging after you.

"hey! i'll -- uh -- i'll come with you. since it's my mess too." she laughs, nudging you with her shoulder as she catches up to you.

waterpolo!vi who has to hold her breath when she's helping you wipe cake icing from your face, running a damp towel down your neck, you tilting your head back to give her better access.

"so, how long've you been planning this?" she asks, if only to say something to break the silence.

"not that long -- like a week or so. the cake took the longest -- i wanted to get it from your favorite place on the edge of town, but they don't do deliveries, so i had to go and get it without you knowing, and then figure out where to hide it --"

"oh is that was the 'emergency study sesh' was that you had to run off to this morning was?"

you grin, sheepish as she pulls back to look you over.

"yeah... but i mean -- as long as you liked it! it was worth it, right?"

"oh i loved it, cupcake," she says, casually bopping your nose as she tosses the towel into the big laundry cart for cleaning. she takes a breath, "you're the best friend a girl could ask for, princess."

and she sees it the, the something flicker across your face, a shadow that darkens your eyes for just a second before you look back up at her.

"uhm... about that --"

"hm?" vi turns so fast her neck almost cricks. fuck.

you're staring at her, and she's staring back. there's a moment, like the held-breath between twirling fan-blades.

"i -- uhm -- damn," you look down at your hands, your cheeks suddenly flooding with color, "i had this whole speech prepped and everything --"

vi plops down on locker bench in front of you, tugging your chin back up.

"c'mon, princess. what is it?"

your eyes catch, and vi feels her stomach flip, her heart crawling up the length of her chest to beat, bleating and desperate, at the back of her throat. she can almost taste the metallic thump of it on her tongue.

"i just -- it's --" you twist your fingers in your lap, "i've been meaning to... to tell you for a while but uhm --"

"tell me what?" fuck, her voice comes out so raspy, so needy. she swallows, trying for her usual nonchalance. "you can tell me anything, y'know that right, cupcake?"

you purse your lips, her words seemingly setting you more and more on edge. she leans forward, mesmerized by the pink plumpness caught beneath your teeth. she swipes her thumb along the corner.

"sorry -- missed a spot..." she pulls back, showing you the tiny smear of icing on her finger.

"i like you," you blurt out, the momentum of the words carrying you forward just a bit, and you're gasping when you jerk back, eyes wide, as if you can't believe you'd just said that out loud.

vi freezes.

"oh."

"sorry that was -- i was gonna tell you later tonight -- i had this whole thing planned but -- ugh, there's even a really nice bottle of wine chilling in the fridge --"

but vi's kissing you, and holy shit -- vi's kissing you. her hand at the back of your neck, her other hand cupping your cheek, and she's pressing you back so hard you almost stumble off the bench, squeaking in surprise when she nearly hauls you to your feet to press you up against one of the lockers, cushioning your head with a palm.

"v-vi? mmngh --" you gasp, lashes fluttering as she licks her way down your neck, sucking a hard hickey into the skin there, her teeth biting down as she fists her fingers in your hair.

"holy shit -- sorry -- just -- you have no idea how long i've wanted this --"

she pulls back, her pupils blown, and for a second, you wonder if she's drunk -- you wonder if you're drunk because what is happening right now -- but then you remember that neither of you have had anything to drink yet.

"y-you have?"

vi groans, pushing back in to mouth at your lips, "yeah -- sh-shoulda told you earlier but --" she tugs at the strap of your dress, reveling in the tiny little gasping sound you make as she nips at your collarbone.

waterpolo!vi who can't believe this is happening right now -- really, she might be dreaming, but even if she is, whatever. it's the best dream she's had in ages, having you whimpering against her in this empty locker, your fingers digging into her back as she rucks up your skirt.

"fuck princess, if you're joking about this you better tell me now because --"

"i -- i'm not violet, i swear if you stop --"

she keens when she tugs aside your panties and feels your wetness collect on her fingers. she grins, pulling back just far enough to catch your eyes -- they're glazed over with want, and so, so soft. it almost makes her pause, almost.

she pushes forward, sinking a finger into you, groaning at the tightness. your head lolls back against the closed lockers and vi takes the chance to admire you -- the soft sweep of your lashes as your eyes flutter closed, the round o of your mouth as you moan, the tiny crease between your eyebrows as pleasure paints itself by strokes across the delicate features of your face.

"yeah? that feel good, princess?"

"mm -- mhm --" you nod, fervently, looking back down with half-lidded eyes, reaching down to pull vi back towards you for a long kiss. you lick into her mouth, rocking your hips down against her hand. she hisses against you, her mind nearly fizzing out at the way you drop your face into her shoulder, hanging onto her for dear life as she fucks you on her fingers.

waterpolo!vi who misses nearly her entire birthday party for fucking her new girlfriend to pieces in the lockers. not like her teammates didn't know -- sound really carries in that locker room. she knows. they know. you only find out later when the pair of you come back to the party, red-faced and way too disheveled, vi looking way too smug.

"have a good time in there?" one of the girls asks.

vi shrugs, "yeah y'know. just had to make sure she was cleaned up properly."

another girl rolls her eyes, "yeah right. and im sure all the screaming was because you were just doing such a thorough job, right."

vi smirks, "i try."

waterpolo!vi who makes a point of coming back from swim practice with her hair still wet, a towel draped around her shoulders, baggy shorts around her hips, a tight white tank, and nothing else, just because she knows it makes you pause, knows it sets you off. grins when she comes home to drop a kiss to your cheek and you look up, only to swallow, eyes raking down her body.

"gonna jump in the shower, wanna join me?"

you crinkle your nose, glancing back at the group project you were trying to finish with some classmates on zoom.

"uhm -- sorry guys -- i gotta go."

"wait what -- we're supposed to finish this tonight --"

"sorry, there's uh --" you glance back at vi, who's smirking, leaning in your doorway, an eyebrow hitched, "i think my girlfriend burnt the toast in the kitchen -- sorry, bye!"

you hang up the zoom call even as vi scoffs.

"really? i burnt the toast one time."

she tugs you to her for a kiss as you try to walk by her towards the bathroom. you grin against her lips.

"yeah, and it set off the fire alarm for the entire building, remember?"

"mm. yeah, whatever," she mumbles, busying herself with tugging off your sweatshirt as the pair of you stumble into the bathroom.

"how was practice?" you ask, as vi kicks the door closed behind you, jerking off her tank with one hand, kicking it away on the tiled floor before advancing on you with a predatory glint in her eyes.

"it was fine. we did passing and man-up drills. nothing too bad -- shoulders are sore though."

"yeah? you wanna massage after this?"

"mm that does sound nice," vi says, twisting on the shower, jerking her head for you to step in, climbing in after you with a soft, satisfied groan as the hot water hits her aching muscles.

"but for right now," she says, twisting you around and pressing a quick kiss to your lips, "why don't you get on your knees for me, pretty? there's just one more thing i want you to take care of for me before that massage."

you lick your lips, kiss her back, before dropping to your knees with a sweet smile.

"ready for your post-workout?" you ask, blinking up at her with your big, innocent eyes, even as your fingers inch up her thighs, coaxing them apart. vi groans, leaning back against the cool shower tiles.

"holy fuck yeah."

[thejdblog]

I don't blame y'all (is iconic). They legit looked like "Lovers caught past midnight"