#this is soo late i was at drag | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ckret2 · 1 month ago

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So I heard y'all are really eager to see Bill shipped with an old man. This is what you wanted, right??

(Sorry, it's still gonna be a while yet before we get to the old man y'all are looking for.)

Chapter 80 of that fic with human Bill as the Mystery Shack's increasingly casual prisoner: the government comes snooping around the shack again, scaring the crap out of everybody—including Bill, who's too nervous about getting arrested to realize he's being flirted with.

####

Bill woke late in the morning to the smell of dead fish and a subtle but insistent full-body itch. It was one of the most pleasant mornings he'd had since he died.

Sunburn, he thought. No surprise there. He dragged the false nails that had survived since the girls' sleepover across his shoulder and reveled in the way the pain was momentarily relieved and then flared back up twice as strong as before. Sunburns had always been one of his favorite human sensations, that constant pleasant background burn prickling across his skin and blazing higher any time he was touched; he hadn't realized just how much he'd been missing them while he was locked inside. He wasn't built to be out of the sunlight.

While most of him just vaguely itched, the bands of skin around his waist and upper thighs where he'd applied the anti-sunscreen were on fire. When he tossed aside his bedsheet to inspect, he was satisfied to see the difference the anti-sunscreen had made—the skin was only slightly darker and ruddier, but it was visibly leathery with tiny bumps. It was a good start. Still—they might have been more visible if the rest of him were less sunburned.

He pushed that thought from his mind. He'd sooner die again than admit that sunscreen might have been a good idea for any reason. If the lines weren't visible enough after the sunburn healed, next time he could strengthen the anti-sunscreen recipe and shoot for blisters, that might leave scars.

He dug his nails into one of the more deeply burned lines and was hit with a dizzying rush of euphoria as the burned skin screamed in pain. Oh, he could happily do that all morning. But first maybe he should get some breakfast.

He rolled off the sofa, landed on all fours on the floor, and grabbed Journal 4 from under the sofa—he'd left it there with the pages spread out so the watery fish brains he'd finger painted on each page didn't glue the book shut. He documented last night's "dream"—he'd haunted the halls like a ghost, collecting what tools he could access to start repairing the portal—then hid the journal behind the sofa in the window seat's cushion where it belonged. He still needed to find a better hiding place for it. Maybe after breakfast.

There hadn't been a grocery run since he'd acquired his new fridge, so all he had upstairs were half a dozen condiments, a bag of tortilla chips, and enough cider to kill a horse. If he could get somebody to open the kitchen fridge, maybe he could steal the eggs, that was probably the single most nutrient-dense ingredient currently in the house; that'd keep him going between meals until grocery day...

Where were his clothes.

The t-shirt and bikini he'd worn to the beach yesterday were still flung across the sofa; but the box he'd stuffed all his other clothing in had vanished. He stared at the shelf it was supposed to be on. His hoodie. Who'd stolen his skin?

He scowled.

He folded his Pony Heist bedsheet lengthwise, folded it around his waist and rolled it down like a sarong, pulled on the t-shirt and his eyepatch, and stalked from his room.

The kids' bedroom door had been left open. No sign of Bill's clothes in there, but he found an important clue: Dipper's ever-present mountain of dirty clothing was gone. Laundry day. Soos must have mistaken Bill's box of perfectly clean clothes for dirty laundry and stolen the whole thing. Great.

While he was momentarily unsupervised in the kids' room, he flipped through Dipper's journal, annotated some of the recent pages with helpful info and added an embarrassing anecdote about Ford's research years (all in code, of course), and stole Mabel's glass pyramid and a pair of pink sunglasses that were shaped like the words "RAD DUDE" from her bedside table. He stashed the pyramid in his room on the window seat.

And then he headed downstairs, trying to mentally calculate the most impactful way to whine about his clothes having been stolen in order to make Soos feel as guilty as possible without making himself look pathetic.

"Hey Bill!" Mabel called from the living room. She held up a couple of headbands; she'd wrapped two pipe cleaners around each that stuck up like antennae. Foam stars were glued to the ends of one headband's pipe cleaners and pompom bees to the other. "I'm making deely boppers! Do you want one?"

"More than anything!" Bill claimed the one with bees and shoved it down over his tangled hair. Mabel was in here doing crafts, Dipper was watching crappy local TV—Bill couldn't get into the gift shop with them in here as witnesses. "Hey, here's something crazy: did you kids ever notice the stairs to the attic have 32 steps going up and 28 steps going down?"

Mabel and Dipper looked at each other; and then ran for the stairs. "No way!" "How's that possible?"

That would keep them occupied for a few minutes. Bill backed through the gift shop door.

Wendy looked up from her phone. "What up, dude."

"Hey, cool girl!" He spun around on his heel and trotted over to lean against her counter. "If anyone asks, you let me into the shop."

"Got it." She glanced at Bill's sarong. "Is this the return of Toga Guy?"

"Nope; laundry day."

"Oh, yeah. Washing machine's been going all morning," Wendy said. "Soos says Ford's been running around in a coat that smells like nasty lake water, so he stole it."

"And stole my box of perfectly clean clothes." Bill refused to entertain the possibility that this might be partially his own fault for making his room smell like dead fish. The smell would air out! "So I'm gonna humiliate him for it in front of his tour group."

Wendy laughed. "Don't do that, man. You know what he's like, sometimes he makes goofy mistakes." She gave him a quizzical look. "You keep your clothes in a box?"

Right, he'd been keeping Wendy teetering on the edge of thinking Bill was in an unsafe situation here. Was there any benefit to her knowing how inhumane his living conditions were? Not at the moment, when things were finally improving. "Shack's run out of guest rooms and I didn't need new clothes in the mindscape! We just shoved my clothes in a crate until we can get a spare dresser or something." Topic change! "Hey—I saw your brother beating up a fish at the lake yesterday."

"Oh yeah, you mean dinner? Marcus was so proud of his catch. He did the worst job deboning it, though. I almost got a surprise lip piercing." Wendy stuck out her tongue. "What about you guys? Soos says you fought Bigfoot or something?"

"They did. Ask the Stans for the details; while they were catching fish, I was catching rays," Bill said. "And I think I was more successful than them."

"Suntanning?" Wendy took in his blatantly sunburned appearance.

"Unless you're about to say 'oh wow, you look great!' say something different," Bill said. "Anyway, I'm a wilting houseplant! I have a sunlight deficit I'm trying to catch up on." He glanced wistfully toward the window in the door and the bright beautiful day outside. "If I didn't have to ask someone to let me in and out, I'd be out there right now."

He'd been angling for Wendy to graciously offer to help escort him outside. Instead, she said, "Oh, dude, we leave the door unlatched during the day. You can just walk through it backwards like you do from the living room."

"Wait—really?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

He gave her a skeptical look; but when he glanced through the door's window, he could see himself standing out on the porch just a few seconds in the future. All right, he wasn't complaining. "Then I'll see you later." He sauntered over and backed through the doorway.

It worked. He was outside. He stepped off the porch and spread his arms, soaking in the sunlight. Look at that—escape was really that easy the whole time. He could have just backed through a couple of doorways. A little frustrating that he was learning this after he'd found a complicated workaround that required climbing on the roof, but this would make his life easier in the future. He walked back into the doorway again.

It didn't budge. He kept trying to walk for a couple of seconds before his brain forced him to accept that there was, in fact, a door there, and it wasn't getting out of his way. Did the doorway trick only work in one direction?! How did that make sense! The doorway to the living room handled two-way traffic just fine!

"Hey!" He spun around and gave Wendy a death glare. She laughed silently. He knocked furiously. "Hey, I'll get you for this, see if I don't!" When Bill had his power back, maybe he'd make her into a gargoyle on the outside of the Fearamid while the rest of the town was nice and cozy in his throne. See how she liked being locked outside. Pyramids didn't even need gargoyles.

She just waved at him, oblivious to the danger she was courting.

He muttered, "Oh, Icy, if you weren't Raina's kid..." She was Raina's kid, though.

All right, fine, no big deal. He wasn't letting anyone think this bothered him. Eventually a tourist would come along and let him in. If the Pines caught him and got mad, he could tell them that Wendy had tricked him into getting stuck outside, and it wouldn't even be a lie. (Would they believe him, though? Mabel would. Ford definitely wouldn't. Bill thought he at least ought to earn points for nicely sitting on the porch like the obedient dog they wished he was...)

A dented beige car rolled into the parking lot; Bill perked up as three out-of-place-looking men in black suits stepped out. Well, look who was back. "Hey, nice car! Much subtler than the fedmobile you were driving yesterday."

Agent Powers almost stumbled mid-step when he noticed Bill. "Er—yes. I appreciate the recommendation."

Bill got to his feet and leaned with one hand on a post. "I see you at the beach, I see you at this tourist trap... I'm starting to think you're on vacation, agents!"

Solemnly, Powers said, "I can assure you we're not."

"Definitely not," Agent Trigger agreed.

Bill glanced past them. Agent Dale was grinning broadly and snapping photos of the Mystery Shack with a camera hanging around his neck. "Wow, this place is so much fun." He tilted his head back to get a picture of the totem pole.

Bill raised his brows.

Trigger said, "Those are investigation photos."

"Sure," Bill said.

"We're looking for the owner of the Mystery Shack," Powers said. "I don't suppose you've seen him, ma'am?"

"Not yet. I think 'Mr. Mystery' is giving a tour right now."

"I see. Thank you for your help, ma'am." He almost moved to head inside, then hesitated.

He'd been doing that a lot around Bill the last couple of days. "Something else I can help you with, agent?"

"Uh—" Powers cleared his throat and flushed faintly red high on his cheeks. "I—feel that I ought to inform you that you're... looking even more exquisite today." Trigger stared at Powers.

Bill—slouched; sunburned; barefoot; fingernails and toenails painted in four different sloppy styles; and wearing a child's bedsheet with cartoon ponies on it, a purple puma t-shirt so large the neck hole slipped down his shoulder, an eyepatch with hot pink "RAD DUDE" sunglasses on top (and faint tan lines showing where he'd been wearing his eyepatch on the other side yesterday), and bumblebee deely boppers—said, "Tell me something I don't already know!" He laughed. "Kidding—that's impossible."

Powers nodded sharply and turned away, wearing an odd look somewhere between disappointed and relieved. "Dale, you stay out here and take some readings."

Dale flashed Powers a thumbs-up and pulled out a tablet.

Powers opened the door; Bill quickly pushed off the post. "Hey! Aren't you gonna hold the door for me?" He had something that looked like a skirt on, he could exploit that social norm today.

"Er—" Powers stopped in his tracks. "Yes, of course, ma'am."

"Aren't you a gentleman!" Bill swept back inside.

Wendy laughed at his grand reentrance—but petered out as she noticed the overdressed new visitors. Bill split off from the agents to circle the shop and try to look like a normal tourist, but he mouthed toward Wendy, "Feds." Her eyes widened.

"Excuse me, miss," Powers said to Wendy. "We're looking for the proprietor. Do you know when he'll be available?"

"Uhh..." All knowledge she previously had of the shack's tour schedule fled her mind in the face of a legit government agent. She circled around the counter. "I'll... tell Soos you're here."

Powers frowned. "'Soos'?"

"Yeah, um—Jesús Ramirez? The owner?"

Trigger muttered to Powers, "I think that's the handyman."

Wendy said, "He took over the business last year."

"Apparently our intel is out of date," Powers said. "Very well. We'll wait here."

Wendy veered toward Bill on her way to the museum and hissed, "Take the register—"

"Hell no," Bill hissed back. He wasn't letting the government know he worked here if the shack was under investigation. "Where's Melody?"

"Out. She slept bad."

Hmm. Strange. "I'll distract the suits." He wanted to snoop, anyway. "Go."

Wendy gave him an exasperated look, but ducked into the museum.

Bill sidled up to the agents, who were inspecting the display of alien-in-a-tube keychains. Trigger picked one up and murmured, "Are they suspended in jello?"

"That has to be a health hazard."

"Good likeness of the real thing, though."

Bill stopped in his tracks. There weren't a lot of places in the US where a government agent could have a personal meet-and-greet with an alien corpse in a glass tank. They must have been assigned to one or two investigations in Hangar 618. Strange; he would have thought there was more than enough going on in Gravity Falls to keep their schedules filled.

He shook off his misgivings, leaned on a display cabinet near the agents, and said loudly, "So!" He tried not to grin too widely when both agents jumped. "Looks like it's just us until the next tour."

Powers' cheeks turned pink again. "It looks like it." He cleared his throat and tried to surreptitiously adjust his tie. "I... suppose I'm overdue to ask you your name?"

"Call me Goldie!" Before Powers had an opportunity to dig deeper into Bill's identity, he asked, "So what brings you by the shack, agents? I don't think you ever explained what you're investigating!"

"Yes, that would be because it's classified. That information is shared strictly on a need-to-know basis," Powers said. "But we're here to check on last week's gravitational anomalies and an odd power surge that was witnessed over the weekend." (Bill loved this chatterbox, funniest secret agent ever.)

"Oh wow. Sounds exciting," Bill said, voice just a little too flat to sound convincing but a little too forceful to sound like he didn't mean it. (Always keep 'em guessing.) "Any leads?" He doubted it.

"Not yet," Powers admitted. "We've tracked similar power surges in Gravity Falls for decades, and last year several occurred concurrently with other gravitational anomalies; but our investigation last year..." Powers exchanged a glance with Trigger. Trigger just grimaced in irritation. Powers finished, "didn't find anything conclusive. So." His voice took on an edge of frustration. "Here we are. Looking around town."

"Again," Trigger grumbled.

Bill was surprised they could even remember last summer's gravitational anomalies. He'd expected Ford had completely erased their memories of the case; but he hadn't seen exactly what term Ford had plugged into the memory gun. "D'ya expect to find anything conclusive this time? Or is this just a routine follow-up on an old case."

"More of a routine follow-up," Powers said.

"Standard procedure," Trigger added.

"Except," Powers said, "that two days ago, we also received an anonymous tip that a dangerous individual may be hiding in this very building—and that they pose an immense risk to national security."

Trigger said, "Possibly global security."

Bill learned what it felt like for a human's blood to run cold. "Huh," he said. "Interesting."

"Witnesses claim the power surge appeared to originate in this part of the woods. We think this individual might have been involved," Powers said. "But it's probably nothing you need to worry about, ma'am." (Bill must have looked more alarmed than he'd meant to.) "We receive tips like this all the time. I doubt we'll find anything interesting here. All the same—"

The gift shop door popped open and Agent Dale poked his head in. "Sirs!" He held up a beeping tablet. "I'm picking up a signal from one of our flash drives."

Powers and Trigger turned their full attention to Dale. "Which one?" Trigger asked.

"The one we lost last summer."

The agents exchanged a look.

Soos hurried through the curtain to the museum, Wendy following close behind. "Hey, dudes! Welcome to the Mystery Shack! What can I get for you, a tour? Souvenirs? Um, bribes...?"

Bill grimaced. As Wendy passed, he muttered to her, "He does not have the grace at this Stanley does."

Powers's eyes darted between Dale and Soos; and then settled on Soos. "Mr. Ramirez. I'd like to have a word with you about your business. Privately."

"O-of course! I hope you don't think we're up to anything or anything." Soos pulled aside the museum's curtain. "Just step this way. Through my magic portal to a world of wonder and whimsy!"

"If I have to," Powers said tiredly. "Trigger, Dale—you two follow that signal. I want that flash drive back."

"Yessir." They hurried out of the gift shop.

Before Powers followed Soos into the museum, he turned to Bill. "My apologies for disrupting your trip, ma'am, but I'm afraid the next tour may be... delayed." A look of panic flashed across Soos's face.

"I can come back tomorrow!" Bill waved off the apology. "Watching a small-town business owner get investigated by the feds is way more exciting! You oughta check his financial records, I bet there's all kinds of tax evasion going on here!" Soos's panic escalated to sheer terror.

To Bill's surprise, something akin to fear flashed across Powers's face as well. "You think we're—? That is—we're not that sort of federal..." He cleared his throat loudly, mumbled, "Very kind of you," and hastily retreated after Soos, cheeks red.

What the hell was that? Powers had been paying way too much attention to Bill the last couple of days. Was it possible he was playing dumb? Did he already know that Bill was the "dangerous individual" in the Mystery Shack? Was he just trying to figure out the best way to bring Bill down and drag him in—

"Man." Wendy laughed, keeping her voice low. "You really distracted him. What'd you do to the poor guy?"

Bill leaned on the counter by the cash register. "What?"

"He's head over heels for you." At Bill's blank look, Wendy said, "Wait, did you not notice?"

Bill opened his mouth. Nothing came out while he tried to reconcile Wendy's claim with the idea of his body ending up suspended in a glass tube in a secret military base. "What?"

"Did you see him?" Wendy asked. "He can't stop staring at you, every time you glance at him he gets redder, you said one nice thing to him and he completely fell apart..."

Bill mentally ran through the last two days. Ohhh. In retrospect, that did explain why Powers had offered to rub sunscreen on him. "I barely even noticed! I'm used to everyone treating me like that! At least four people fall in love with me daily," Bill said. "I turn heads and drop jaws everywhere I go. I've got a whole collection of lower jaws preserved in formaldehyde." Admittedly, not all of them had dropped naturally. A few had been coaxed.

"Most people just steal their partners' shirts, but alright. I can respect a good murder trophy collection."

"There's a fine line between a lady-killer and a serial killer," Bill said cheerfully, "and I'd know! But enough about my love life!" As much of a relief as it was to realize Powers wasn't plotting Bill's arrest, that didn't mean it couldn't change. "What did you guys do with the flash drive with the agents' secret mission?"

Wendy shrugged. "Dunno, I wasn't here."

And Bill hadn't been either. While the Stan twins had been recounting their tragic life history, Bill had been fully occupied at the Quadrangle of Qonfusion, repairing the damage Ford had done before the portal opened and trying to get his Henchmaniacs to chill out about those guys who'd died. (Seriously, none of the dead guys had even been among the Henchmaniacs' A-listers, who cared?) By the time he'd realized something interesting was happening, the agents' memories were already erased and they were heading out of town.

"Okay. Great." He backed into the living room. "If you see 'em again, slow them down."

####

Bill pounded on the guest room door and waited.

"Just a second!" Ford answered the door, his freshly laundered coat in one hand and a Bigfoot fur-covered lint roller in the other. "What is—? Bill." His expression immediately closed off. His gaze flicked up to Bill's bumblebee deely-boppers. "What are you wearing."

"High fashion, not important. What did you humans do with the flash drive you got from the eagles?"

"The what from the what?"

"Last year. Right after you got home. Government agents. Little black plastic stick full of knowledge."

"Oh, that. Fed it to the goat," Ford said. "Why."

"Because the agents put a tracking device in it, and they're tracking it right now."

Ford's brows shot up. He hurried to the guest room window; Bill peeked around him.

Agent Trigger and Agent Dale were wandering around outside, Trigger in the lead while Dale trailed behind him looking at a tablet screen and saying, "Warmer... warmer... colder... okay, now warmer again..."

"Damn." Ford rushed to the back door.

Bill grabbed him by the sweater before he could get outside. "Whoa there, cowboy. If they see you, do you have a story prepared for why the 'superior officer' who sent them packing last year is still here?"

Ford raised a finger. "I... do not." He rushed to the stairs. "Kids!"

"Grunkle Ford!" Dipper stumbled to the bottom of the stairs, sweating and breathing heavily. "Hey—" Mabel ran into him from behind, nearly knocking them both down. They grabbed the banister for support as they panted. Dipper tried again, "Hey... did you know... the number of steps on the stairs..."

"Yes yes, the half of the staircase hidden by the turn in the landing changes when you can't see it," Ford said. "Dipper, Mabel, we have an emergency. I need you to catch the goat! Now!"

####

Gompers gnawed placidly on a paper towel hanging out of the trash can. He detected the subtle bouquet of rotting bell peppers. And was that spilled orange juice? Truly delectable. He took another bite.

The back door burst open. Gompers turned to stare as Dipper and Mabel charged outside.

He bleated indignantly as they scooped him up between them. Dipper hissed, "Go, go, go!"

They hauled him inside and slammed the door.

Trigger and Dale circled around the corner of the shack. Dale said, "It should be right... huh. That's weird."

"What is it?"

"The signal from the flash drive just moved."

"Moved? Where?"

Dale walked in a small circle, trying to get the tablet to re-triangulate the flash drive's location. "Inside the shack."

Trigger frowned at the door.

####

"C'mon, Gompers," Mabel hissed, trying to drag him down the hallway with Dipper. "We've gotta get you somewhere the government guys can't see you through the window!"

Gompers bleated again. Dipper smacked a hand over his mouth.

All three froze as someone knocked on the door. Voice low, Dipper said, "We're not home. Nobody's home right now." Mabel nodded.

####

Bill lurked next to the living room door, listening to the conversation in the gift shop as Powers said, "Thank you for your time, Mr. Ramirez. Oh, and by the way—you wouldn't happen to have seen any top secret government flash drives around the place, would you?"

There was a long pause. "Why, no," Soos said carefully. "I have not."

"Then do you have an explanation for why my agents detected one in this vicinity... and it's moving?"

There was an even longer pause. "Perhaps it was... eaten. Without our knowledge," Soos said. "Mayhaps by some variety of creature."

"Hmm," Powers said. "Perhaps. Would you mind if we look around for it."

"Uhh... yes. I would mind," Soos said. "Please don't."

Powers sighed deeply. "Fine. We'll be back." The floorboards creaked as he walked toward the exit. "Trigger, Dale—let's move out."

The household didn't heave a collective sigh of relief until the gift shop door had shut.

####

(A lot of y'all have been waiting for the Bill Seduce A Government Agent plot for like a year and a half. We're finally here! Yay!

Back in April when I was starting to write this plot in earnest, I was trying to figure out a reason why the agents would turn their attention on the shack (and the Pines family) again that was more threatening than just "yeah there are more gravity anomalies, again. whatever." And @quartz-the-moth-cat solved it with one word: "Gompers." Genuinely that one suggestion pulled the whole plot together. So thank you again for that.

In the months since TBOB came out, a lotta folks have incorrectly assumed I've made changes to my plot due to TBOB or that eerily TBOB-compliant things I wrote before the book were actually written after. So I think I'm gonna start documenting what I'd already planned/written, because I'm petty and I don't want TBOB to get credit for my own ideas:

The entire Agent Powers plot arc was written before TBOB came out. Adding fish brains to J4 was a post-TBOB addition (since we now know that's how he controls books), as was the bit with the agents discussing aliens and the aside about Hanger 618. And the chatter about stealing people's lower jaws, because in the wake of TBOB I think I need Bill to crack more jokes about gore & body horror. Nothing else in this chapter was changed due to TBOB.

I'm looking forward to hearing y'all's comments!!)

#(i think the funniest part of this week's art is the combination of eyepatch on Bill's left eye + eyepatch tan lines on his right eye)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #agent powers #agent trigger #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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mins-fins · 7 months ago

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[23:16 pm.]

all he has been doing is pouting.

it's not that he's some sick attention seeker who can't stand when you aren't glancing his way (though that could be a new discovery of his, he misses your eyes on him), it's just that he can't stand watching you sit in the same place unmoving for hours on end without taking a break. yes, studying is important, but not more important than your wellbeing.

"y/n" he drags out the syllables of your name, his call echoing in the expanse of a room. you continue taking down your notes, seemingly ignoring his call of your name.

he trudges over to you, placing his chin onto your head and settling his hands on your shoulders. you seem to finally acknowledge your boyfriends presence, because you glance up, your eyes following your lips as you smile. "yes?" you cease your writing to now focus your full attention onto him.

"you've been at it for hours, when are you gonna be done?"

you offer a snort. "i'm reviewing, can you really not survive without five minutes of my attention?"

"it's been almost three hours".

you blink up at your boyfriend, who stays frowning as he maintains eye contact. "just a few more minutes?"

he doesn't seem to like the sound of that, because his face twists into an unfortunately familiar grimace. he stays silent for a moment, and you're almost afraid you've upset him with how he looks at you.

"i swear i'll sleep soo— AHH!"

before you know it, your abruptly lifted from your seat, his hands hooking themselves under your legs. you yelp as your hands find purchase on his shoulders, still trying to process what's going on. "hey! put me down!" you kick your feet back and forth as your he begins walking away from your desk and towards your room.

"i'm serious! i still have to study!"

"can't you just study tomorrow? it's already late" and there he is again with the pouting. your hands on his shoulders slide over towards his neck, a razor-sharp glare in your eyes as you try not to crack under his pretty irises staring into yours. "pleaseeeee?"

now he's begging, amazing. if you weren't in his arms, you'd kick him where it hurts. your nose scrunches, but you roll your eyes. "fine, but then your helping me review tomorrow".

"no problem, baby".

you're unsuccessful at trying to contain your smile.

#lee jeno #jeno #nct #nct dream #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles #nct dream scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno drabbles #jeno scenarios #lee jeno x reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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yeostars · 8 months ago

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When ATEEZ members get jealous as ur bfs, reaction post !

Hongjoong:

• tbh, he gets jealous quite often, even at the smallest stuff but most of the time he manages to conceal it well.

• He's immediately besides you and whoever that guy is that you're enjoying talking to so much, my man would literally burn holes with his eyes whenever he's jealous. seriously, he gives such an intense stare to the person he perceives as a threat, although he trusts you a lot, he tends to get a little too protective of you...... cuz he loves you so much, ofcourse. He clings his arm with yours, sending a signal that you're ready to go.

•"Who even was that?" He asks, annoyance oozing in this voice as you turn back to him. Or "I didn't know you were that close...." would be his classic statement whenever a guy he doesn't know seems to get a little too close to you.

Seonghwa:

• Seonghwa tends to get a lot more clingy than usual whenever he's jealous. Not just clingy, but he'll purposely call you as "honey" "sweetheart" "babe" repeatedly in front of whoever made him jealous and protective of you in the first place.

• Something like "babe, we're getting late, let's go." he says, while entering the scene, emphasizing on the word babe a lil too much.

• As he says this, he'll eye up the guy in front of you up and down, almost in a judging manner, and effortlessly snakes an arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him, as if sending him a signal that you're his and his only. After you're done conversing with that guy, he'll literally jump on you, asking "what did he say to you?" demanding all details of your convo with him.

Yunho

• Another one who gets jealous more often than he wants to. If y'all remember, yunho himself admitted once that he "gets jealous too much/often" soo it's safe to say that he would be quite possessive of his s/o.

• When he notices that you're taking too much time conversing with whoever is your "new company", he crosses his arms, sighing as he watches you both, and matches towards your direction with a blank expression and sour smile (which looks kinda scary tbh)

• And then, voilà, you're getting dragged impossibly closer to him by the waist. His arm slides under your waist sideways, his grip firm and tight and that has goosebumps forming all over your skin. He doesn't even make eye contact with the guy in front of you, practically avoids him and once you're both alone, he says "do you talk to him often?" sensing that you do and he hates even the thought of you being close to him.

Yeosang

• Yeosang isn't really the jealous type. That's just how he is, and even if the slightest pang of jealousy hits him he conceals it so well that you've never seen his possessive side before.

• One day, you literally asked him out of the blue "you've never gotten jealous before, seeing me with some other guy, have you?" and yeosang laughs, literally LAUGHS because that was so random. but you sounded serious so he had to stop laughing and give you a reply. "what, you want me to get jealous? possessive? wouldn't that be annoying though?" he replied, staring at you. "why would it be? it shows how much you want me. i would actually love it if you act a bit possessive of me sometimes." you say, pouting, and yeosang just kisses your cheek, saying "alright, I'll try."

• And when the day comes when you ACTUALLY witness him being jealous for once, you're satisfied with his reaction. Yeosang noticed that you were gone away for quite a long time and went looking for you, only to find you talking to a guy he didn't know and you seeming to enjoy talking with him. Interwining his fingers with yours in a heartbeat, he asks "Hope I'm not interrupting? Y/n, love, let's go now, it's getting late." And when you're both alone, you pull his cheeks playfully, praising him and begging him to act more jealous like this cuz that's HOT of him (did I lie)

San

• He's literally both cute and scary when he actually gets jealous. He tries his best to not get jealous of the smallest stuff but sometimes he cannot hide his jealousy.

• He's the type to become restless when you aren't around. Literally staring at you both while sending death glares to the guy in front of you, his feet tapping impossibly faster on the floor.

• When he decides that it's his last straw when he notices the guy trying to get closer to you, he's there besides you in no time, smiling sweetly at you, not even acknowledging that guy. Placing a soft, quick kiss on your cheek, he brings your hand to his, suggesting you to check out those other food stalls with him.

Mingi

• He's DRAMATIC when he's jealous. When the princess itself gets jealous? It's over for you. You have to give him hundred times more kisses, cuddle him the entire night and hold his hand till eternity, all until he feels better ;D

• He'll barge in when you and the unknown guy are having a convo, introducing himself as your boyfriend. He'll literally tug on your arm sleeves, a small cute pout forming on his face and he stays like that until you exchange your goodbyes with that guy, finally alone with him.

• Rarely, he gives you silent treatment when he gets jealous. And you're always able to tell that he's jealous from the way he gets too quite rather than being talkative as usual. He denies it when you ask him about it, but immediately dissolves into a fit of giggles and a precious smile when you kiss him firmly on the lips and murmur I love you all over again. Really, that's all it takes for mingi to feel assured and happy.

Wooyoung

• 100 % scary when he's jealous. A little dramatic, might I add. He gets jealous quite often and doesn't shy away from showing that he's possessive of you.

• His last straw would be when you're flashing your incredible eye smile to that guy in front of you while talking to him, a smile that's reserved for wooyoung only. He appears being you in no time, back hugging you and wraps his arms around your waist tightly, placing his chin on your shoulder, sending death glares to the guy in front of you, not letting go of you unless that guy finally decides to leave.

• "What was so funny that you were laughing at literally every word he said?" Wooyoung asked, bitterly, lowering his eyes. "Don't worry, babe, he wasn't as funny as you. No one makes me laugh like you do, that was just a....fake laugh." You assured him, pulling his cheek playfully. He shrugs if off and makes sure to cling to you like a koala the entire day.

Jongho

• Something tells me that jongho hates admitting that he's feeling jealous. He does get jealous sometimes but it's mostly when something he senses someone else getting physically closer to you. He usually doesn't have a problem when you're just having a conversation with someone.

• So, when someone does try to get physically closer to you, he's there besides you immediately, snaking an arm around your shoulder. otherwise, he doesn't approach the person you're talking to since he doesn't want to come off as clingy to you.

• "I don't get a good vibe from him. He was trying to get close to you all the time." He admits, not out of jealousy, rather protectiveness. "If he was, i wouldn't let him. Don't worry babe, he was just an acquaintance." You assure him, kissing him lightly on the lips, causing jongho's cheeks to heat up as he hums, satisfied.

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evil-lovergirl · 5 months ago

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req. by melxiqz on wattpad . . . can i get a uh... dazai x gn reader reader....nsfw...reader has spine... tattoo..

! short nsfw drabble . . . dazai osamu . . . >> includes thigh-fucking [char. giving], begging [char. giving], hickeys [char. giving], dazai is very touch-starved, he really likes your tattoo, like he licks it and shit, he's just a wet cat </3, reader sleeps shirtless and pantless (still wearing shorts/boxers),n dazai is sleeping nude, lowercase intended >> sorry thigh-fucking was literally the only way i could think of where he sees your tattoo. also "laurel" refers to the poisonous laurel flower. i was a little tired of dazai calling reader belladonna every story and the laurel flower is really pretty

"it's late, 'samu." he hears you attempt to reason with him as he presses his chest against your back, his slender hands already pressing against your chest.

"pleasee? jus' for a little bit, jus' tonight.." he whines as he presses his bulge against your legs, dick already hard and weeping pathetically as he pressed his cheek against your back.

"just for tonight," you relent eventually, knowing that you'd both do this another night again anyway. he lets out a happy sound before one of his hands fall from your chest and down to your thigh as he carefully slips his cock between your thighs, letting out a quiet huff as he slowly begins to move.

he keeps his eyes shut for a moment before he looks at the back of your head, then his gaze traces down to your tattoo. his eyes traces each inch of the ink-stained skin on your back, hand on your thigh tightening as he speed his thrusts up a bit more.

his mouth lets out another moan or two before he latched onto your shoulder blade with it, teeth gently pressing against your skin before your hand moved to gently swat him off. "don't do that. i can't hear you, then."

he huffs as he lets go before a whine interrupts him, your hand having retreated and gently prodded at his tip between your thighs with each of his thrusts. his fingers are basically clawing at you, even though his nails were much too short and blunt to reach your skin, anyway. he pants, tounge lolling out like a dog before he glanced back at the tattoo.

deciding that, in his fuzzy mind, licking your inked skin was the second best thing he could do if he couldn't suck, he dragged his tounge across your tattoo with whines escaping hing him as his thrusts between your thighs grew faster yet sloppier, mewling whenever the palm of your hand met the sensitive tip of his dick.

"i love you, i lov-e y-youu, soo muc-- ah, ah..!- so much," he whines out, repeating the words like a broken record on repeat, nearing his climax as his fingers dragged across your chest pathetically and his hand tightened and shook against your thigh, leaving behind red marks in their wake.

"i love you too, osamu. won't you cum for me?" and that's what sends him over the edge, loud mix of a mewl and a moan escaping him as he came all over your thighs and the bedsheets, head buried in your back.

"looks like you had fun," you mused as your hand moved away from his spent tip before gently intertwining with his hand on your chest still, but now much weaker.

"i love you, my laurel," he mumbled softly, chest rising and falling as he breathed heavily before kissing your back rather gently.

"i love you too, 'samu. go to sleep, unless you wanna clean up now?"

"noooo..."

#evil-drabbles #evil-lovergirl #dom reader #sub character #bsd x reader #sub bsd #sub dazai #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #cross posted on wattpad #@lovers-quarrel

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imloyaltoscoups · 9 months ago

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it's fiction | jeon wonwoo

Wonwoo leans on the door frame, his arms crossed, looking at you focused on your laptop. Your fingers keep typing nonstop, the clatter of keys the only sound in the room.

"You've been engrossed with your laptop for days," he says, breaking the silence.

You stop typing and close your laptop immediately, turning your head to look at him. "It's just some research stuff," you reply, trying to sound casual. But the truth is, he has no idea you're writing a fanfic about him—not just any fic, but a R18+ one.

You stand up and walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist in a hug. "Soo how's the progress on the album with Hans?" you ask, hoping to divert his attention.

He rests his chin on top of your head, his arms encircling you in return. "It's going well," he says softly. "Just preparing for the MV maybe this coming week or so... But I'm more curious about what you've been working on."

You feel your cheeks heat up, your heart racing as you hold him tighter, "I'm just searching for a new game that's all," you reply, trying to sound convincing.

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Your chrome isn't even open."

You look up at him, caught off guard. He points to his glasses. "My vision is clear," he says, smiling.

You let out a nervous laugh, your mind racing to come up with another excuse. But the way he’s looking at you, with that teasing glint in his eyes, makes it hard to think straight. So instead, you tighten your grip around his waist, hiding your face in his chest.

"Okay four eyes, you caught me," you mumble into his shirt. "But it's really nothing."

He chuckles, his hand coming up to gently stroke your hair. "Alright, I'll let it slide for now. But next time, maybe you can show me what you've been working on?"

Your heart skips a beat, and you can only hope he never finds out the real reason behind your late-night typing sessions.

He then gently removes your arms from around his waist and he directly head straight to your workstation. Panic sets in as you rush to stop him, wrapping your arms around his torso from behind.

"Yaaaa, wait!" you plead, trying to hold him back. "You said you will let it slideee."

He laughs, a deep, genuine sound, and continues to move forward, dragging you along with him. "What are you hiding, hmm?" he teases, enjoying your struggle.

"Seriously, it's nothing!" you insist, your grip tightens.

He pauses, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder, still smiling. "You know, you're making me even more curious."

You groan, knowing he won’t give up easily. "It's just… embarrassing, okay?"

He turns around fully, facing you, his expression softening a bit. "I won't judge, you know that," he says gently.

You hesitate, then sigh, loosening your hold on him. "Fine. Again don't judge me and don't even laugh." as you point your finger on him.

He grins, reaching out to lift your chin. "I promise."

With a reluctant nod, you step aside, watching nervously as he approaches the table.

Wonwoo sits on your chair and opens the laptop, starting to read. You panic and cover his eyes as he begins to speak, "Really, babe?"

"Stop, stop," you nervously plead.

He removes your hands from his glasses and looks up at you. "I thought you didn't like being rough, but here? You even describe my dick well, props to that," he says, a teasing glint in his eyes.

You cover your face with your hands, feeling the heat of embarrassment spreading across your cheeks. He grabs your waist and settles you on his lap, and you nudge your face into his neck, mumbling, "It's just fiction."

He chuckles, "But the details… wait, am I a mafia boss here?"

You blush even more deeply. "And how do you know this kind of position? We haven't even tried this one yet," he continues.

"Stop reading." You plead, but he ignores you and keeps reading.

"Have you been watching porn while I'm away?" he asks.

"It's just for reference, Won," you reply weakly. "You know I have more experience than you, right?" he counters.

"Well, then it wouldn't be fiction, it would be like your diary or something," you retort, looking at him. "And my readers like this kind of stuff."

He laughs and scrolls down, continuing to read. "And you even make me a cold, possessive jerk? Really, babe?"

You bury your face in his shoulder, mortified yet unable to suppress a giggle at his reaction.

"Well, this is already a fanfic since you made me a mafia boss," Wonwoo remarks, pausing in his reading. "You make Mingyu my rival... wait, will he... uh, fuck around with the female lead too?"

He's now fully invested, and you try to cover the screen, but he removes your hand, his expression turning serious. "Behave," he instructs firmly.

"Why is the female named as Y/N?" he asks, his tone softer now as he realizes you're writing a reader-insert fanfic.

You hesitate to answer, but he catches on, teasing you, "So you're imagining yourself being fucked by a mafia boss, huh?"

"It's not like that," you deny it quickly,

He chuckles, shaking his head. "You know, you're missing some details in this sex part," he points out, gesturing to the screen.

"What's wrong with that?" you ask, feeling defensive.

"Since you haven't tried this position, you need to experience it firsthand to be able to describe it accurately," he explains matter-of-factly.

He then stops reading, setting your laptop aside. You think it's over, so you stand up. He does too, but to your surprise, he grabs your hand and drags you to a nearby couch in the room.

As Wonwoo positions you on the couch, he bends you at the waist, your upper body resting on the cushions while the arm of the couch supports your hips. Before you can fully comprehend what's happening, he swiftly removes your shorts along with your underwear, making you gasp in surprise and arousal.

He leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "You know, I read something in your story about fingering and sucking first," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Before... before fucking her hard."

You shiver at his words, feeling a rush of heat pooling between your legs. "Y-yes," you manage to reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Without further preamble, he descends upon you, his lips trailing hot kisses along the curve of your neck. But his touch is not gentle; it's rough, demanding, leaving marks of his passion in its wake. He bites down on your skin, his teeth grazing against your flesh, leaving you gasping for more.

As his lips find their way to your shoulder, With a wicked grin, he murmurs against your skin, "Let's see if I got your story right." he grips your thighs tightly, parting them with a force that sends a jolt of pleasure through you. His touch is possessive, his fingers digging into your skin as he explores every inch of your body with a hunger that leaves you trembling.

Your breath catches in your throat as his words send a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You nod, unable to form coherent words, your heart pounding in your chest.

And then, without warning, he lowers his head between your thighs, his mouth claiming you with a primal urgency. He doesn't hold back: his tongue is rough and insistent, lapping at your core with a fierce intensity that threatens to drive you over the edge.

But it's not just his tongue that drives you wild; it's his teeth, sinking into your flesh with a delicious sting that sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. He bites and sucks with abandon, his mouth a whirlwind of sensation that leaves you teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

You then gasp as Wonwoo inserts his fingers roughly, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. His roughness only intensifies as he continues to suck and lick you, driving you to the edge with each relentless stroke.

When you finally reach your climax, the pleasure is so intense that you can't help but squirt, your juices spilling over his face in a hot, sticky mess. He doesn't flinch; instead, he stands up, slapping your ass roughly as you continue to leak your essence, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you.

With a primal growl, he positions himself between your legs, straddling you as he forcefully slaps his cock into you like an animal. In this position, there's no room for romance—no eye contact, no kissing, no caressing. It's pure, raw, animalistic fucking, and you revel in it.

As he takes you from behind, you can feel his gaze burning into you, consuming you with lust as he uses you for his pleasure. You lowkey love it—the feeling of being dominated, of being nothing more than an object for his satisfaction. It awakens something primal within you, igniting your submissive side like never before.

As Wonwoo continues to pound into you with primal intensity, his breath ragged and his movements rough, he begins to utter possessive lines, echoing the ones you wrote in your fanfic.

"You like it when I degrade you, don't you?" he growls, his voice thick with lust. "You love being used like this, don't you, you filthy little slut?"

His words send a shiver of excitement down your spine. You find yourself nodding eagerly, unable to form coherent words as pleasure clouds your mind.

He continues, his voice dripping with possessiveness. "You're mine, Y/N," he declares, his grip tightening on your hips as he drives himself deeper into you. "No one else can have you like this. You belong to me, body and soul. Say it."

You moan in response, unable to resist his command. "I'm yours," you gasp, the words coming out in a breathless whisper.

"That's right," he murmurs, he then delivers a sharp slap to your ass. "And don't you forget it. You're mine to use, to pleasure, to fuck however I want."

Wonwoo's thrusts grow deeper and rougher, each movement driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. Your bodies collide with a primal rhythm, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the room.

He hisses in pleasure, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "You're so tight," he gasps, the words slipping out between clenched teeth. "Even after all this time, you still feel so fucking good."

With a final, powerful thrust, he releases his hot, sticky essence deep inside you, filling you completely with his fluid. The sensation sends you over the edge, your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Wonwoo pulls his cock out, releasing the last of his cum onto your back. You breathe heavily, reveling in the fact that this is the first time he's been so rough with you during sex. He then gently picks you up and settles you both onto the couch.

As he plays with your hair, he smirks and asks, "So, who’s the better fuck—the mafia version of me or the real thing?"

You squint your eyes at his absurd question, trying to suppress a laugh. "It's just fiction, Babe, Mere fiction," you reply, shaking your head.

He chuckles, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. "I know, I know," he says, his voice gentle. "I was just curious... At least you got to experience the sex position you wrote about," he added as he resumes on toying with your hair. "And if you need to try more for the sake of realism in your stories, I'd be open to it. No need for extra research when you have me."

You roll your eyes playfully, leaning against him. "Whatever." But he's not done yet, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Are there other stories you've written that I haven't read? Are they rated 18? And do you write about other members too?" he fires off questions.

Before he can ask more, you hush his mouth with a kiss, which he eagerly reciprocates, pulling you closer. You sense there might be another round, but this time, he'll be gentle like he used to be.

....... ≿━━━━━༺MASTERLIST༻━━━━━≾ .......

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sc0tters · 25 days ago

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Best | Jack Hughes

summary: the time has come for you to return to New Jersey, does seeing Jack make you fall into old ways or do you finally stay strong?

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual relationships but nothing overly explicit.

word count: 3.69k

authors note: first off happy 2025! this is our first fic of the year and we have waited way to long for this part to come out but I seriously think the wait was worth it all in the end. I was going to give us a good ending but then I heard Best by Gracie Abrams and you guys said we could do the angst soo… if it’s not clear, this is a sequel (that I throughly enjoyed writing) but you don’t have to ready part one, it’s just that this one will make a lot more sense if you did first.

part one

This was meant to be a trip you were excited for.

Christmas and New Years in Jersey with Luke at your side. It had been planned since you missed your annual trip to the lake house after your parents surprised you with a much needed summer in Europe.

Just as you should have predicted things ran cold with Jack the moment you the garden state last time round. So now as you stood in Newark airport waiting for Luke to show up you had to force a smile on your face, as the pit in your stomach grew.

Nerves coursed through your veins as you hated that Jack still got to have an effect of you.

This was meant to be a trip that you could use to just catch up with your best friend, but still you stood there forced to have his older brother be the one who was on your mind.

All you were left with was the memories, that you couldn’t seem to part with “guess who?” Your thought was broken as hands covered your eyes “are you that one devils defender?” You grinned knowing that it was Luke who stood behind you.

His shitty attempt of a British accent made you laugh “that one devils defender?” Luke scoffed as he dropped his hands allowing you to turn to face him “Lukey!” You squealed pulling him into a hug.

The boy smiled as he wrapped his arms around you, feeling happy that you were back there with him. Luke had seen you in Detroit over the last two months but this was the first time you both got to spend actual time together since February.

Luke’s eyes scanned your face to see how much you had changed recently, your eyes didn’t seem to shine as bright as they once did. He knew that something was up with you, it would have taken a fool to not.

As the man who knew you like the back of his hand Luke knew that you’d also only tell him once you were ready. He just really hoped that what ever seemed to drag you down, would be set free before it was too late “I’ve missed you.” Your voice was soft as you ran your fingers through the curls you used to help him take care of in your dorm.

He was quick to grab your suitcase from you “we’ve got so much to talk about!” He confessed motioning to you to follow him to his car.

The ride was long but felt short in time as the two of you didn’t shut up, catching up on all things school, hockey, and life itself.

Jack had come back from a workout as the two of you arrived, and you swore that the universe was out to get you. The elevator doors opened on the gym floor and that’s where you were met with the middle Hughes brother.

He was sweaty as he had a towel that sat in his shoulders “didn’t think you were gonna be here yet.” Jack stepped into the elevator as you shrugged “flight got in early.” You tried to pay no mind to the fact that your body felt on fire as his eyes practically burnt into your soul.

Luke sucked at his teeth “it’s good because Jacky here got us into hosting a party tomorrow.” He mumbled sending his brother a glare “Jack eh?” You teased wanting to let out a laugh.

Jack smirked as he looked at you “you want to go on a booze run with me or get snacks?” You didn’t even need to answer as Luke cut you off “you want to get a partner for this prep then you find your own best friend.” He pointed out wrapping his arm around you.

The middle Hughes boy let his lips form a pout “and here I was thinking we’d share her.” The words made you cough as the elevator doors opened to their apartment floor.

Jack laughed “good to see ya Blossom.” The nickname rolled off of his tongue as he walked out first.

The next twenty four hours you were able to avoid Jack for the most part as Luke wanted to show you all the parts of the city that he had grown to love since you had last been. And the fact that he still shopped like a teenage boy helped, as you were having to explain to Luke what a party really needed.

Your luck ran out as Luke got drunk whilst the continued on. Jack clearly knew what he was doing when he bough Luke’s favourite shooter, as the youngest Hughes boy currently stood practically jumping off the walls.

Some of their teammates knew of you from your last time being there and how Luke never seemed to shut up about you. Nico had already been over to say hello again as you had gotten yourself a drink “Y’know I’ve got to get back to my sister but I think you should go see what Jack wants.” Nico motioned in the direction of his teammate.

Jack looked at you as you nodded “thanks for the heads up.” you mumbled seeing the American a confused look as he watched you see if there was someone behind you.

You tried to avoid him but you felt as if you were trapped as Jack seemed to be where ever you turned after that. Every time you went to a different part of the apartment he was talking to a different person. But of course his eyes never seemed to leave yours.

So as you watched this blonde girl run her fingers over his shirt you finally felt sick, rather than watching the scene continue on. You instead opted to chug the remainder of the whiskey in your cup, before you headed to the bathroom hoping that a slash of cold water would do the trick.

Your face felt warm as the sound of water running in the faucet trickled in your ears “pull yourself together.” You sighed resting over the counter as the door opened “can’t you see this is busy-” you grumbled cutting yourself off as you locked eyes with Jack.

He sent you a glare “you know you’ve got a funny way of getting all mad at me when I go talk to someone.” Jack let out a cruel laugh “ain’t like you’re fucking that Canadian or somethin’.” He added making you scoff.

You had started a solid relationship with Ethan right as the summer started as you both seemed to bond over heartbreak. His girlfriend had dumped him and as everyone celebrated the end of the school year, you both found each other in bed needing the company and the release.

Before you knew it, those meet-ups became weekly things. You needed a break from Jack and that seemed to be the one thing that really did calm your mind, even if it was only for that night.

But as Jack stood in front of you, you couldn’t believe that he got mad “you keeping tabs on me or some shit?” you laughed almost wondering if someone was playing some sick prank on you.

He still stood tall as he rolled his eyes “don’t play dumb with me.” He muttered letting a loose strand of your hair get caught between his fingers.

His touch made your body feel on fire “and it’s hard to not know when Luke won’t seem to shut up about it.” Jack added making you smirk “you jealous that he ain’t heard about you?” You asked tilting your head up to face him.

Jack stood there for a moment as he thought about it “you think I’m gonna be jealous of a little college fuck toy?” He laughed almost taunting you “know only I fuck you the best.” The middle Hughes boy knew he was right as you pushed your thighs together trying to dispose of the heat that built up in them.

You shook your head “not anymore.” Your lips pursed together as you shook your head.

Jack noticed how you were still wearing that same perfume of yours that drove him wild “got a long time here.” You still had four days left there and if your trip was going to end like the last one, he knew you’d end up in his bed at least once.

But in that bathroom you tried to remain strong “you wanna act like you don’t fuck me and leave me?” You scoffed wanting to honestly hit him in that moment.

You pressed your pointer finger against his chest “like I’m not just the same as every other girl that you fuck and forget about as if I’m nothing.” Your voice broke as you almost felt your emotions making you feel nauseous.

He could read the pain in your face “don’t say that.” He clicked his tongue as he reached for your arm “know you’re my special girl.” The title was meant to fill you with joy and praise, and it would have if this was February.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you shook your head “fool me once shame on you, fool me twice and I’m the fucking idiot.” You sucked at your teeth watching him remain silent.

There was so much anger in your body “I can’t believe I actually let you fuck me.” You spat turning around to finally leave.

The door to the bathroom whipped as you were faced with Luke “you fucked my best friend?” He scoffed as he looked over you and towards his brother.

His eyes traveled down to yours as he frowned “I’ve got to go.” You mumbled pushing past him as your cheeks turned red, flushed with embarrassment as the boy’s teammates and their partners eyes stuck on you.

You went through the crowed as you grabbed your scarf “I can’t believe you!” Was the last thing you heard before you let the door shut behind you, desperate to be as far away from there as possible.

But the first thing you needed was a drink and a strong one.

It had been hours since what you called your catastrophic meltdown in the Hughes apartment, and Luke still refused to listen to a word that Jack said “she’ll be okay Luke.” His voice broke the silence as the younger Hughes snapped his head in his brother’s direction.

Luke chewed at the inside of his cheek “she’s a smart kid.” Jack added finally breaking his younger brother “you don’t think I already know that?” The defenseman scoffed as he threw his cloth onto the table.

It was rare that he got this angry, but tonight Jack pushed his past his limits “she’s my best friend and you just had to go and fuck her?” Luke felt tears form in his eyes as the betrayal stood in front of him “and for what? To make her life hell and make me think that I did something to make her hate me?” Your avoidance of being in the same place as Jack finally all made sense. You weren’t avoiding Luke but rather the pain his brother managed to so easily inflict on you without a second thought.

The middle Hughes boy shook his head as he let out a sigh “you think I wanted to walk away from her?” Jack sucked at his teeth as he let his eyes squint into a harsh line “you don’t think that I spend most nights fucking wishing she wasn’t your best friend so that this wouldn’t have been so complicated.” Those words made Luke ball his hand into a fist.

He felt his heart pound in his ears as he grew irritated “how is you screwing her and leaving complicated?” Luke’s voice raised as both boys did little to care about what their neighbours would think.

Jack knew he couldn’t really say it, even if there was a truth that made him feel trapped “she deserves so much better than you.” Luke spat letting his words hit his brother like bullets.

The room felt claustrophobic as the middle Hughes boy tried to ignore that he agreed “you’re right.” Jack sighed making Luke freeze as his eyebrows raised.

He chewed at the inside of his cheek “I love her but I couldn’t be the reason you two stopped being friends.” His confession lingered in the air as Luke realised that his brother was being truthful, even if it was as ironic as it seemed.

But Luke didn’t get a chance to offer some form of a rebuttal as the echo of something falling onto the wooden floor of the living room. There you stood with now tear stained cheeks “I forgot my wallet.” You announced holding the red purse in your hand with your eyes widened.

Jack felt his throat go dry, as it was clear that you had been there to hear what he had said. He wanted to reach out for you but instead Luke beat him to it “we should talk.” Luke didn’t give either of you a chance to respond as he pulled you out of the apartment.

Snow sat on the windowsill of the hotel room as Luke joined you on the bed after what felt like the quietest uber ride of your life.

You hadn’t stopped fidgeting as never really thought that you’d have to tell Luke about this part of your life “I’m so sorry Luke.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you expected him to yell, scream, even just be disappointed in you.

But instead the boy clicked his tongue to break his silence “do you love him?” Luke knew that you had always had some degree of a crush on his older brother. Yet he never assumed it would have been something reciprocated or even acted upon.

The question lingered in your mind as you couldn’t find the right words to explain yourself to him “I did but I don’t know how I could like him when he has hurt me twice now.” You fiddled with the rings on your fingers as you let your eyes stare at your knee.

Your answer made Luke frown as you too were processing what Jack had confessed “and it’s for the best that nothing does happen.” You added, not sure if you were telling yourself that too or just the boy in front of you.

Luke placed his hand on yours “you know that it’s okay to still want him.” He sighed knowing how his brother could be and the love you held for him “I just wish you had told me.” His words made you let out a soft laugh.

A tear slid down your cheek as you cocked your head “that I was fucking your brother or that I liked him?” The words made him erupt into laughter that made yours follow shortly after.

He shook his head as he pulled you into an awkward hug as you still sat cross legged “I just missed you is all.” Luke had stayed up more nights than he could count over the last year as he tried to figure out what had happened to you.

You wanted to believe that everything would be fine between the two of you, that it’d all go back to some sense of normal. But you knew deep down that it would never be the case. Because as you lay there talking yourself to sleep as Luke refused to let you go, part of you wished that it was Jack that held you.

Sure you got your best friend back to the greed you held caused you to want the middle Hughes boy now more than ever. Luke had seen you through your highs and lows so you almost guessed that there was now a silent expectation that he’d always show up for you. And that was it, Luke was always going to show up for you.

It should have been enough, and you really did want it to be that way.

Luke let out a quiet ‘mhm’ as he squeezed your side nestling against you “I just wish things never had to change.” You sighed letting your head rest on his chest as the sound of his heart beat soothed you to sleep.

On the other side of the city, Jack lay there as he struggled to sleep. Thoughts of you plagued his mind, as he too wanted to be selfish. You being in his life as merely Luke’s best friend should have been enough.

The boundary that the title drew should never have been broken. But Jack was so desperate to have you in more of his life than just during the summer or when you’d visit Luke.

It seemed that up until tonight Jack didn’t know how to put what he felt into words and now that he had told Luke the truth, Jack had opened the faucet of emotions that couldn’t be turned off.

So as he lay staring at the alarm clock that sat on to his bedside table, Jack couldn’t help but think about what it was like to have you beside him. The thought of your imprint in his bed was like a drug as his hand gripped the empty side of his bed.

Silence consumed him as he shut his eyes, praying that he hadn’t waited until it was too late.

You and Luke had managed to avoid Jack and the apartment for the rest of your trip “you sure you want to do this?” Luke’s question lingered on your mind as you stared at the front door “if I don’t then I’m worse than him.” You wouldn’t have assumed that the pain you experienced would ever have been felt by Jack.

But still that didn’t help your hands from clamming up as the door opened. Jack paused the tv as he heard the noise, making his head whip around.

His eyes landed on you and it was clear he hadn’t properly slept in days “hey.” His voice was soft as his gaze fell onto his younger brother “I’ll go get the car ready.” Luke offered taking your suitcase with him as he left the two of you alone.

You fiddled with the ring on your finger as the middle Hughes brother walked up to you “I’m sorry.” Jack cleared his throat as he stopped in front of you.

He ran his fingers through his hair hoping you knew what to say back “I’m leaving.” You admitted as your mouth felt dry.

Nerves rocked your body as he shook his head “can we talk about what happened?” He pleaded as he felt as if his throat constricted. The boy reached for you as you pulled away, shaking your head no.

It took all of you to not break “we just hurt each other.” You pointed out knowing that your heart couldn’t take one more time of Jack walking out on you.

His words meant nothing if his actions didn’t fulfil them and right now, you weren’t ready to just take that chance “I love you.” If you didn’t know any better you would have sworn it sounded as if he was begging you to just say it back to him.

Your voice broke as you saw how his eyes were full of pain “you hurt me Jack, you don’t love me.” Jack never knew of your nights in your dorm as you sat there in tears wishing that Jack could hold even an ounce of the love you held for him.

He shook his head wanting to wipe away the tears from your cheeks “I never meant to do that.” Of course Jack never did mean to but it seemed as if he just couldn’t help it. It now seemed as if it was easier to hurt you than call you his.

The two of you cried as Jack gripped your hands in his not wanting to hear you say what he thought was coming “if you love me Jack.” You cut yourself off as you sniffled.

It made his heart break as he squeezed your hand “I’m so in love with you.” He confessed making you shake your head “you need to let me go.” Your voice was barely a whisper as you nodded.

Time felt as it is slowed as the boy dropped your hands whilst he froze “and if things are different down the line maybe we can try again.” The offer almost felt like a shitty taunt, that if Jack hadn’t fucked up you could have been his now.

He wanted to fight you on this, he really did “I’ll see you in the summer.” You knew you were going to be there and that was your personal wound. Memories would have to be made that would try to cover those of Jack and that night that started this all.

Your thumb felt rough against his cheek as you wiped away a tear of his “don’t do this.” He pleaded with you wanted to do anything to make you change your mind “goodbye Jack.” You gave him a soft nod as you saw Luke stood by the door with his keys in his hand.

It took all your strength to not go turn around and run into Jacks arms as you walked out of the door.

Because the truth was that, you were still convincing yourself that you had done the best thing for yourself.

Even if you were convinced that in that moment you lost the love of your life.

So as you forced yourself back into work and school when you got back to Michigan, it seemed that life for Jack continued on too. Yet as you trying to forget about him, rumours spread about there being a lucky lady in Jacks life.

This was struck your heart as you truthfully believed that you had really made the right choice, and that you were so stupid to believe he could have ever wanted you. So with Jack you hadn’t really lost him.

Because after all, you can’t lose something you never really had.

#jack Hughes imagines #jack Hughes x you #jack hughes one shot #nhl one shot #hockey oneshots #hockey imagines #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #amber writes fics

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00valentina-writes00 · 21 days ago

Text

An: I saw someone else do a Jock! vi x reader and…I wanted to try a go at it too^^

Original idea: @loaksky (THEY ARE SOO GOOD AT WRITING YOU HAVE TO CHECK IT OUT, my writing isn’t half as good as theirs is-)

Title: Chemistry Off the Ice

Synopsis: High school chemistry takes on a whole new meaning when you’re paired with Vi, the school’s cocky hockey star, for a lab assignment. Known for her bad-girl reputation and irresistible charm, Vi makes it her mission to break down your walls. Despite her relentless flirting, you’re determined to keep things strictly academic—until a drunken night at a party and unexpected late-night confessions begin to blur the line

Featuring sassy banter, undeniable chemistry, and dramatic promposals, Chemistry Off the Ice is a slow-burn, enemies-to-lovers romance with plenty of fluff and heart.

Warnings:

• Swearing and mature language

• Brief mentions of underage drinking

• Themes of self-doubt and emotional vulnerability

• sexual content

• Over-the-top high school shenanigans

||———————————————————————||

The fourth-hour bell rings, signaling the start of chemistry, and you drag yourself into class with all the enthusiasm of someone heading to a dentist appointment. Mr. Tails is already at the front of the room, fiddling with his projector and trying to shush a few kids laughing in the back row. You glance at the empty seat beside yours, silently praying it stays that way for the rest of the period.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor breaks your illusion of solitude. You look up to see her. Vi strides in with the kind of swagger that makes her the star of every room she enters. Her magenta hair catches the fluorescent light as she tosses her bag on the counter and slouches into the seat beside you. She’s all sharp angles and cocky smirks, her light gray eyes scanning the room like she owns it.

“Alright, class,” Mr. Tails announces, clapping his hands. “We’re partnering up today for the molar mass and reaction rates lab. Take a good look at the person next to you—they’re your partner for the week.”

Your stomach sinks.

Vi leans back in her chair, folding her muscular arms behind her head. “Looks like we’re stuck together, huh?”

You force a tight smile, already regretting every decision that led you to this moment.

The lab instructions are written on the whiteboard in Mr. Tails’ barely legible scrawl, and you jot them down in your notebook while Vi lazily flips through the chemistry textbook.

“Alright, so first we’re figuring out the molar mass of this compound,” you mumble, tapping your pencil against the page. “I’ll handle the math if you grab the materials.”

Vi raises an eyebrow, her grin teasing. “What, don’t trust me with the calculations?”

“I trust you as far as I can throw you,” you shoot back without thinking, and Vi laughs—a low, rich sound that catches you off guard.

“Fair enough.” She pushes herself up from her seat, heading to the supply station.

You watch her for a second longer than you mean to. The way she moves is all confidence, like she knows exactly how to hold the world’s attention. You snap out of it when she returns, setting a tray of beakers and compounds on the counter with a loud clatter.

“Happy now?” she asks, leaning on the counter and smirking at you.

“Ecstatic,” you mutter, focusing on the measurements.

As the lab progresses, you realize something unsettling: Vi is smarter than you expected. Much smarter.

When she’s not leaning in close and murmuring flirty comments, she’s solving calculations in her head faster than you can write them down.

“You multiply the molarity here,” she says, pointing to your notebook, her finger grazing yours. “Then divide by the volume of the solution.”

You blink at her. “How do you even know that?”

Vi grins, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “Guess I’m full of surprises.”

You hate that she’s right.

Her sharp intelligence only makes her insufferable flirting more irritating. Every few minutes, she tosses out some line designed to make you stumble.

“Careful,” she says, her voice low as you measure out a solution. “You spill that, and we might have to do mouth-to-mouth.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re not as charming as you think, you know.”

“Really? Tell that to half the girls in this school.”

There it is—the infamous player reputation. You’ve heard the stories: Vi breaking hearts left and right, leaving a trail of lovesick admirers in her wake. It’s almost impressive how shameless she is about it.

“Look,” you say, setting down the pipette with more force than necessary. “Can we just focus on the lab? Some of us actually care about passing this class.”

Vi raises her hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. No need to get all worked up, princess.”

By the end of the class, you’re more annoyed than anything else.

Sure, Vi’s chemistry skills are undeniable, but her constant smirking and relentless teasing have you itching to escape. When the bell finally rings, you start packing up as fast as possible.

“Hey,” Vi says, stopping you with a hand on your notebook. “Same time tomorrow?”

You glance at her, noting the way her light gray eyes seem to catch the light, the playful edge to her grin.

“Unfortunately,” you mutter, pulling your notebook free.

Vi chuckles, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Looking forward to it, partner.”

As she walks out of the room, you shake your head, trying to figure out how someone so infuriating could also be so good at chemistry.

You’re not looking forward to tomorrow. Not even a little.

~~~

The next day in chemistry, you walk into the classroom with a sense of foreboding. As much as you’d like to think otherwise, the prospect of spending another hour with Vi feels less like an academic exercise and more like a test of patience. You take your seat, flipping through your notebook, and brace yourself.

Right on cue, Vi saunters in, late as usual, her bag slung lazily over one shoulder. Her light gray eyes scan the room before locking onto you, and that trademark smirk spreads across her face.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite lab partner,” she drawls, dropping into the seat next to you with an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Miss me?”

“Like a toothache,” you reply without looking up.

Vi chuckles, leaning on the counter and invading your personal space just enough to be noticeable. “You’re funny, you know that? It’s cute.”

“Funny isn’t what you’re going for, though, is it?” you retort, finally glancing at her. She’s wearing that same cocky grin, the one that probably works on every other girl in school.

“Depends,” she says, her voice low and teasing. “Is it working?”

You roll your eyes and turn back to your notes. “Not even close.”

As Mr. Tails starts explaining the second half of the lab, Vi leans closer, her breath warm against your ear.

“So, what’s it going to take?” she murmurs, her tone dripping with confidence.

You blink, caught off guard by the question. “What’s what going to take?”

Vi shrugs, her grin widening. “To get you to like me.”

You snort, louder than you mean to, earning a sharp glance from Mr. Tails. “I don’t think you can handle rejection, can you?”

Her eyebrows shoot up, feigning offense. “Rejection? From you? Oh, come on. Everyone likes me.”

“Not me,” you say firmly, meeting her gaze head-on.

For a split second, Vi looks genuinely surprised, like the concept of someone resisting her charm is completely foreign. Then her surprise shifts into intrigue.

“Alright,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “Challenge accepted.”

You groan, already regretting engaging with her.

The lab itself is straightforward enough, but working with Vi is anything but simple. Every step of the process is punctuated by her relentless teasing and over-the-top attempts to impress you.

“You know,” she says, carefully pouring a solution into a beaker, “I think we make a pretty good team.”

“You mean because I’m doing all the work?” you reply, adding a precise amount of compound to the mix.

“Nah,” Vi says with a grin. “Because I’m making this fun.”

You pause, glancing at her. “This? Fun? For who?”

“For you, obviously.” She winks, and you roll your eyes so hard it’s a miracle you don’t strain something.

By the halfway point of the lab, you’re ready to snap. Vi’s relentless flirting is like an itch you can’t scratch, equal parts annoying and distracting.

“Why are you like this?” you ask, exasperated, as you scribble down your results.

“Like what?”

“Like…” You gesture vaguely at her, searching for the right words. “This. All the flirting, the smirking, the—”

Vi grins, cutting you off. “The charm?”

“More like the ego,” you shoot back.

“Ouch.” She places a hand over her chest, feigning hurt. “You wound me, partner.”

You snort. “Somehow, I think you’ll survive.”

Eventually, you can’t take it anymore. You set down your pen, turning to face her directly.

“Look, Vi, I’m just going to save you some time here,” you say, your tone firm. “I don’t sleep with players.”

For the first time, Vi’s confident grin falters. It’s brief, barely noticeable, but you catch it.

“Players?” she repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“You know what I mean,” you say, crossing your arms. “The whole school knows your reputation. Short flings, casual hookups, leaving girls heartbroken—sound familiar?”

Vi doesn’t deny it. Instead, her grin returns, but there’s a new edge to it. “So, what, you’re saying you’re immune to all this?” She gestures to herself, her voice dripping with mock disbelief.

“Completely,” you reply without hesitation.

Vi leans closer, her gray eyes narrowing in challenge. “We’ll see about that.”

You roll your eyes again, turning back to the lab. “Good luck with that, Casanova.”

Despite her frustration, Vi seems more determined than ever. For the rest of the lab, she tries every trick in her playbook: complimenting your intelligence, cracking jokes, even pretending to mess up the experiment just to get your attention.

Nothing works.

By the time the bell rings, she’s visibly annoyed, though she hides it well.

“Same time tomorrow?” she asks, her tone almost mocking as she packs up her stuff.

“Unfortunately,” you reply, mirroring her words from the day before.

Vi chuckles, shaking her head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

As she walks away, you can’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction. Vi might be used to getting her way, but you’re not about to make it easy for her.

~~~

On the third day of your forced partnership in chemistry class, Vi’s persistent charm offensive reaches new heights. You walk in, coffee in hand, determined to endure another hour of her relentless teasing without snapping.

“Morning, gorgeous,” Vi greets as soon as you sit down. She’s already there, twirling a pen between her fingers like some kind of suave protagonist from a bad teen drama.

“Morning, headache,” you reply dryly, taking a long sip of your coffee.

Vi smirks, undeterred. “Damn, you’re spicy today. Didn’t get enough sleep? Thinking about me all night?”

You shoot her a deadpan look. “The only thing keeping me up was imagining ways to escape this lab without getting detention.”

Vi laughs, a low, throaty sound that somehow makes your pulse quicken despite your best efforts to stay immune to her. “You’ve got jokes. I like that about you.”

“And I like silence,” you retort, pulling out your notebook. “Think you can manage that for once?”

For the first half of the lab, Vi is surprisingly focused, finishing her portion of the work faster than usual. You suspect she has an ulterior motive when she leans back in her chair and grins at you like she’s just scored the winning goal.

“So,” she begins, stretching out the word like she’s savoring it. “There’s a party at Ekko’s tonight. You’re coming.”

You glance at her, unimpressed. “That wasn’t a question.”

“Exactly,” Vi says, leaning forward. “Because I already know your answer.”

You snort. “Oh, do you? Let me guess—‘Hell no?’”

She shakes her head, that cocky smirk never faltering. “Wrong. It’s ‘Hell yes.’”

You raise an eyebrow. “And why, exactly, would I want to go to some sweaty, overcrowded house party?”

“Because,” Vi says, leaning even closer, “you’ve been working so hard trying to resist me. You deserve a night off.”

You roll your eyes so hard it’s a wonder they don’t get stuck. “Vi, I wouldn’t go to a party with you if my life depended on it.”

“Okay, but what if Ekko’s life depended on it?” she counters, grinning.

“Then I’d send flowers to his funeral,” you reply, turning back to your notes.

Despite your initial refusal, Vi somehow convinces you by the end of class. Maybe it’s the way she flashes you that infuriatingly charming smile, or maybe it’s the realization that you really could use a drink after dealing with her all week. Either way, you find yourself standing outside Ekko’s house later that night, already regretting your life choices.

The party is exactly what you expected: loud music, red Solo cups, and a mix of people you vaguely recognize from school. Vi finds you almost immediately, appearing at your side with two drinks in hand.

“Look who showed up,” she says, handing you one of the cups. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“I’m here for the free alcohol,” you reply, taking a cautious sip. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Vi grins. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, sweetheart.”

One drink turns into two, then three, and before you know it, you’re blackout drunk. The night becomes a chaotic blur of questionable decisions and ridiculous antics. At one point, you challenge someone to a dance battle despite having zero rhythm. At another, you climb onto the coffee table to deliver an impassioned speech about the superiority of cats over dogs.

Vi, to her credit, stays by your side the entire time, equal parts amused and exasperated.

“You’re a mess,” she says, catching you when you nearly trip over your own feet.

“I’m a delight,” you correct, poking her in the chest. “And you love it.”

Vi chuckles, steadying you with an arm around your waist. “Sure, whatever you say, lightweight.”

By the end of the night, you’re slumped against Vi, mumbling incoherent nonsense about the IRS.

“You can’t take me home,” you slur, wagging a finger in her face. “The IRS will find me. They’re watching.”

Vi stares at you, torn between laughter and concern. “Uh, okay. Noted. So where am I supposed to take you?”

“Nowhere!” you declare dramatically. “I live… nowhere. I’m a ghost.”

“Right,” Vi says, clearly fighting to keep a straight face. “Looks like you’re coming to my place, then.”

You don’t protest, too busy mumbling something about the government tracking your movements.

When you finally reach Vi’s house, she’s surprisingly gentle as she helps you inside. Her cool exterior cracks just a little as she guides you to her room, trying not to panic.

“Alright, sit tight,” she says, rummaging through her dresser. She pulls out an old hockey sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants, holding them up like they’re some kind of offering.

“Clothes,” you mumble, staring at her like she’s just solved world hunger.

“Yeah, clothes,” Vi says, crouching in front of you. “Think you can manage to put them on, or do you need help?”

You squint at her, as if weighing your options. “Help,” you decide, flopping back onto her bed.

Vi freezes, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Uh… okay. Cool. No big deal.”

She moves carefully, trying to maintain her usual nonchalant demeanor as she helps you out of your party clothes. Her hands are steady, but you can feel the tension radiating off her as she avoids looking directly at you.

Vi stops short as her eyes catch on the lacy fabric beneath your party clothes. She stares for a second longer than she should before snapping her gaze away, her ears burning as red as her hair.

“Uh…” she clears her throat, fumbling with the sweatshirt in her hands. “Fancy.”

You crack an unsteady smile, still far too drunk to process her awkwardness. “You like ‘em?” you slur, wiggling your eyebrows in an exaggerated manner that sends Vi into a full-blown tailspin.

“Just… just shut up,” she mutters, her voice tight as she tries to focus on anything but the fact that she’s helping you undress while you’re wearing the kind of lingerie she thought only existed in movies.

Her fingers brush against your shoulder as she pulls your dress up and over your head, and she freezes again. You’re too out of it to notice how tense she is, but her jaw is clenched so hard it’s a miracle she doesn’t crack a tooth.

“This is fine,” she mumbles to herself, determined to keep her cool. “Totally fine. No big deal.”

“Big deal,” you echo, your words slurred but teasing. You grin up at her lazily. “You’re blushing.”

“I’m not blushing,” Vi snaps, her voice a little too sharp as she yanks the sweatshirt over your head. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You hum in response, unconvinced but too sleepy to argue. “Mmm… you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Vi groans, her head tilting back as if begging the universe for strength. “God, you’re impossible.”

“Admit it,” you mumble, your voice muffled by the fabric of her sweatshirt as she adjusts it on you. “You think I’m hot.”

She doesn’t respond right away, which surprises you. When you glance up at her, her expression is guarded, her usual cocky smirk nowhere to be found.

“Just… go to sleep,” she says finally, her voice softer than usual.

You frown, reaching out clumsily to poke her cheek. “You didn’t deny it.”

“Because you’re drunk,” she says, gently pushing your hand back down to your side. “And you’re not gonna remember half of this tomorrow.”

You pout, sinking back into the bed. “Maybe I will. And then I’ll remind you.”

Vi rolls her eyes, though the corner of her mouth twitches in a reluctant smile. “Sure, sweetheart. You do that.”

She tucks the blankets around you carefully, her hands lingering just a little longer than necessary. For someone who acts so tough, she’s surprisingly gentle, her movements almost reverent.

“Goodnight,” she says softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face again.

“Goodnight,” you mumble, your eyes already drooping closed. “You’re still blushing.”

Vi doesn’t respond, but the flush on her cheeks deepens as she sits back, watching you fall asleep. She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she lets out a quiet sigh.

“Yeah,” she mutters to herself, her voice barely audible. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

As you drift off to sleep, Vi sits on the edge of the bed, watching you with a mix of fondness and exasperation. She may act like she’s got it all together, but tonight has definitely thrown her off balance.

“Damn,” she mutters under her breath. “What the hell am I getting myself into?”

~~~

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the pounding headache, a dull, persistent throb that feels like someone’s taken a sledgehammer to your skull. The second thing you notice is the faint smell of detergent and something sharper—hockey gear?—clinging to the fabric covering you. You blink, squinting at the sunlight filtering through unfamiliar curtains.

You’re in a room you don’t recognize, dressed in an oversized hoodie that nearly swallows you whole and a pair of equally massive sweatpants. It takes your sluggish brain a few seconds to piece it together, but the faint memory of Vi’s smirking face and her cocky voice filters through the haze.

Oh, no.

The door creaks open, and you flinch, pulling the blankets up to your chin like some kind of shield. Vi strolls in, a cup of water in one hand and a small packet of painkillers in the other, her hair still messy from sleep. She’s wearing a tank top and boxers, her toned arms on full display, and there’s a smug grin plastered across her face.

“Morning, trouble,” she greets, her voice far too loud for your current state.

You groan, burying your face in the pillow. “Kill me.”

“Nah, I’m not that cruel,” she teases, setting the water and pills on the nightstand. “Here. You’ll need these.”

You glance at the offering suspiciously before reaching for the pills, your movements slow and deliberate as if the slightest wrong move might shatter you entirely.

“What the hell happened last night?” you mumble, downing the painkillers with a grimace.

Vi leans against the wall, crossing her arms. “Let’s see… You got blackout drunk, tried to fight a lamp, insisted you were in witness protection when I asked for your address, and then passed out in my car. That about sums it up.”

You stare at her, mortified. “I did not try to fight a lamp.”

“Oh, you did,” Vi says with a laugh, pushing off the wall to sit at the edge of the bed. “Called it a ‘government spy.’ Honestly, it was pretty convincing. I almost believed you.”

You groan again, covering your face with your hands. “Please tell me I didn’t embarrass myself in front of everyone.”

Vi grins, leaning a little closer. “Not everyone. Just me. And maybe Ekko. And, uh, half the party.”

“Vi!” you wail, throwing a pillow at her. She dodges easily, her grin widening.

“Relax,” she says, holding up her hands. “It’s not the end of the world. No one’s gonna remember half the shit you did anyway. Well, except maybe me. You’re kinda unforgettable, y’know?”

You narrow your eyes at her, but the way her grin softens into something more genuine makes your stomach do an unwelcome little flip.

Before you can dwell on it, there’s a knock at the door, followed by a deep, gruff voice. “Vi, you up?”

Vi’s expression shifts instantly, her grin fading into something more guarded. “Yeah, Vander, I’m up.”

The door swings open to reveal a large, burly man with a thick beard and a face that looks like it’s seen more than its fair share of fights. His eyes flick to you, still bundled up in Vi’s clothes, and his eyebrows raise.

“Another one?” he asks, his tone teasing but not unkind.

Your face burns, and you sit up straighter, trying to look at least a little dignified despite the hoodie hanging off one shoulder.

“She was drunk,” Vi says quickly, her ears turning pink. “I couldn’t just leave her.”

Vander chuckles, crossing his arms. “You’re a real saint, Vi. Always takin’ in strays.”

You bristle, feeling a mix of embarrassment and irritation. “I’m not a stray,” you snap, a little sharper than you intended.

Vander raises an eyebrow, clearly amused, but he holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. My mistake.” He glances at Vi. “Just keep it down, alright? Powder’s still asleep.”

“Got it,” Vi mutters, waiting until Vander’s gone before turning back to you. “Sorry about that.”

You shake your head, still feeling awkward but grateful for the distraction from your hangover. “It’s fine. I should probably get going anyway.”

Vi frowns, but she doesn’t stop you as you swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand, wobbling slightly. She’s on her feet in an instant, steadying you with a hand on your arm.

“Whoa, take it easy,” she says, her concern breaking through her usual cocky exterior. “You sure you’re okay to leave?”

“I’ll be fine,” you insist, pulling away from her touch. “I just… I need to go.”

She doesn’t argue, but there’s a flicker of something in her eyes—disappointment, maybe?—that makes your chest tighten.

“Alright,” she says softly. “Let me at least drive you home.”

You hesitate, then shake your head. “I’ll call someone. Thanks, though. For, uh, everything.”

Vi watches you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before stepping aside to let you pass. “Anytime, trouble.”

The nickname makes your stomach flip again, but you push the feeling down, focusing instead on making it out of the house without further embarrassment.

As you step outside, the morning air cool against your skin, you can’t help but glance back at the door. You tell yourself it’s just to make sure you didn’t forget anything, but the truth is harder to ignore.

You don’t know what’s more frustrating—the fact that Vi’s cocky grin is still burned into your mind, or the fact that some part of you doesn’t want to forget it.

~~~

The first day back at school after the disaster of crashing at Vi’s place is hell. Not because of the homework or the typical high school bullshit, but because you can feel Vi watching you from across the hallway. Her sharp gray eyes practically burn holes in the back of your head every time you pass her locker, where she always seems to be leaning with that stupid, cocky grin.

You’ve made a decision—a firm, unshakable decision. Whatever happened at her place, it’s not going to happen again. Not the teasing. Not the casual flirting. Not her annoying tendency to worm her way into your thoughts without even trying.

You’re keeping things strictly platonic. Strictly professional.

Unfortunately, chemistry lab doesn’t make that easy.

You’re already seated at the lab bench, flipping through your textbook and pretending not to notice the sound of Vi’s boots as she strolls in late, as always. She drops her bag with a dramatic thud next to your stool and slides into the seat beside you.

“Morning, partner,” she says, her voice low and playful.

“Don’t call me that,” you mutter, keeping your eyes on the page.

“What? We are lab partners,” she says innocently, leaning back in her chair. You can hear the smirk in her voice. “I mean, unless you’re asking to switch. You’re not ditching me, are you?”

“No,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Good.” She scoots her stool closer, her shoulder brushing against yours. “’Cause I’d hate to lose the best lab partner in school.”

You glance at her, raising an eyebrow. “Are you actually going to help with the lab this time, or are you just here to steal my notes again?”

Vi grins, leaning in slightly. “Depends. You gonna let me copy off you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Aw, come on.” She tilts her head, her grin softening into something almost charming. “I’ll make it up to you. Buy you lunch or something.”

You snort, turning back to your book. “I’d rather not get food poisoning, thanks.”

Vi places a hand over her chest, feigning offense. “Ouch. That’s cold.”

The teacher starts explaining the experiment, sparing you from coming up with a response. You focus intently on the instructions, ignoring the way Vi keeps fidgeting beside you—tapping her pencil, spinning her stool, drumming her fingers on the table.

It isn’t until you’re halfway through the lab, measuring out a solution, that Vi finally seems to settle down. Or so you think.

“You missed a drop,” she says, her voice low and close to your ear.

You jump, nearly spilling the beaker, and glare at her. “Jesus, Vi. Do you have to sneak up on me like that?”

She leans back, looking smug. “Just trying to help. Teamwork, remember?”

“I’m doing fine on my own.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” She gestures vaguely at the lab setup. “You’re really nailing the whole ‘one-person team’ thing.”

You roll your eyes and turn back to your work, determined not to let her get to you. But it’s hard to ignore her. The way she leans in just a little too close. The way her voice dips when she’s teasing you. The way she smells faintly of sweat and mint gum, a combination that’s annoyingly distracting.

The experiment drags on, and by the time you finish, your nerves are completely shot.

“Alright,” the teacher announces, clapping her hands. “That’s it for today. Don’t forget to clean up your stations.”

You start packing up the equipment, barely acknowledging Vi as she stands and stretches, her hoodie riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of toned stomach.

“See you tomorrow, partner,” she says, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

You don’t respond.

The next few days follow the same pattern. You keep your distance, only speaking to Vi when absolutely necessary. She, on the other hand, seems determined to make things as difficult as possible.

“Need help with that?” she asks one day, her tone laced with fake sincerity as she watches you struggle to balance a tray of lab equipment.

“No, thanks,” you say curtly, not bothering to look at her.

“Suit yourself.” She shrugs, leaning back against the lab bench with a lazy grin.

Another day, she “accidentally” knocks over a bottle of water, splashing your notes in the process.

“Whoops,” she says, not looking the least bit sorry.

You scowl, grabbing a paper towel to mop up the mess. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re fun to mess with,” she says cheerfully, handing you another paper towel.

By Friday, you’re at your wit’s end. You’ve been ignoring her flirty remarks, dodging her attempts to get closer, and shutting down her teasing as quickly as possible. But no matter how much distance you try to put between you, she keeps finding ways to get under your skin.

It all comes to a head during lab when she decides to take over the experiment without asking.

“Vi,” you snap, watching in horror as she dumps half a bottle of reagent into the solution. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Helping,” she says with a grin, giving the beaker a little swirl.

“You’re going to blow us up.”

“Oh, relax. I’ve got it under control.”

You snatch the beaker out of her hands, glaring at her. “Stop messing around. This is serious.”

Her grin fades, and for the first time all week, she looks genuinely frustrated.

“Why are you so damn uptight all the time?” she asks, her tone sharper than usual. “It’s just a stupid lab. Lighten up.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be so uptight if you actually took anything in your life seriously for once,” you shoot back.

The room goes quiet, the tension between you crackling like static electricity. Vi stares at you for a moment, her jaw tight, before grabbing her bag and storming out of the room.

~~~

It’s one of those days where everything feels off, like the world’s spinning just a little too fast, and you’re stuck in the middle, trying to catch your breath. You’ve been dodging Vi all week—more than usual—and it’s starting to catch up with you. The tension in chemistry lab, the way you both keep avoiding each other’s gazes, and her frustrated silence every time you shut her down.

So, when the bell rings for lunch, you’re quick to dart out of the classroom, your thoughts a little too loud and messy to focus on anything else. The back alley of the school’s the closest thing to peace you can get, and you sneak around the corner, lighter in hand, a cigarette already dangling from your lips.

It’s not like you’re trying to be reckless; you just need something to calm the nerves, to block out the chaos of the day. The air’s cold, biting at your skin, but you don’t care. You’ve been feeling like you’re on the edge lately, and the smoke? It’s the only thing that makes it feel a little better, even for a second.

You lean against the brick wall, exhaling the smoke slowly and watching it curl into the air. Your thoughts start to drift, but not for long.

You hear the footsteps before you see her. The telltale heavy thud of boots you’ve grown all too familiar with. You freeze, the cigarette halfway to your mouth, but it’s too late. Vi’s already rounding the corner, and you can’t just pretend you didn’t hear her.

“Nice spot,” she says, her voice low and teasing as she crosses her arms, leaning against the opposite wall. “Didn’t think you were the type to sneak away for a smoke break.”

You don’t answer right away, flicking the cigarette butt to the ground and stepping on it with more force than necessary. The last thing you need is to get caught, especially when she’s here.

“Can I help you?” you ask, your voice colder than you intended.

Vi just smirks, walking closer. “Yeah, actually. I’ve been wondering when you’d stop being such a pain in the ass.”

You roll your eyes, pushing past her toward the exit, but she’s quick—too quick—and she’s blocking your path before you can make it two steps.

“Not so fast.” Vi grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “We need to talk.”

You stare at her, trying not to let the frustration you’ve been hiding all week show. You know where this is going. She always has a way of pushing when she wants something, and right now, it’s you. But you can’t give her what she wants—not when you’re still trying to figure out why she keeps coming back in the first place.

“I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,” you say, pulling your wrist out of her grip. “You should probably get going before you get caught.”

Vi isn’t backing down, though. She steps forward again, her eyes narrowing, her usual smirk gone. “You’ve been acting like a real dick lately, you know that? You’ve been pulling away from me, avoiding me, like I’ve got some kind of disease or something.”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Maybe you should take the hint, then. I’m not some idiot you can just string along for fun.”

She steps even closer, her face now only inches from yours, her voice quiet but intense. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

You hesitate for a moment, biting your lip. The words are harder to say than you thought they’d be, but they’re there, pressing against your chest like a weight you can’t shake.

“Vi, I’m not like the other girls you mess with,” you finally mutter, avoiding her gaze. “I’m not someone you can just hook up with and forget about. I’m not… I’m not some notch on your belt, okay?”

Vi’s eyes soften for a second, and for the briefest moment, you almost believe she might understand. But then she scoffs, shaking her head.

“Is that what you think?” Her voice is laced with disbelief. “You think I’ve been—what? Playing with you this whole time?”

You shrug, trying to hide the hurt you’re suddenly feeling. “I don’t know, Vi. Maybe that’s just what you do. You get bored, and then you toss the girl aside. I’m not interested in being part of that.”

There’s a long pause, and for a second, you almost think she’s going to walk away, leaving you alone with your thoughts. But instead, she grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her.

“Listen to me,” she says, her voice low and serious. “I wouldn’t have spent all this time with you if I didn’t give a shit.”

You stare at her, the words sinking in, but you can’t bring yourself to believe them. You want to. God, you want to. But there’s this nagging fear, this little voice in the back of your mind telling you that you’re just one more in a long list of girls who will end up discarded once she gets bored.

“I don’t need a pity party,” you mutter, shaking your head. “Just… leave me alone, Vi.”

You pull away from her, but Vi grabs your wrist again, this time with more force.

“Stop running,” she says, her tone harsh. “You think I’m just playing with you? You think I’m gonna toss you aside like that? After everything we’ve been through?”

You look at her, your chest tight with emotions you don’t want to deal with. “You’re not gonna change. You’re the same as all the others. You only want one thing, and then you’re done. So, no. I’m not doing this, Vi. Not with you.”

Her grip tightens, but she doesn’t say anything at first. It’s like she’s waiting for you to take it back, to say something that will make her think you’re not serious. But you don’t. You can’t. The fear of being just another girl who gets swept up and tossed away is too strong.

With a final, frustrated sigh, Vi releases your wrist, stepping back. “Fine. If that’s how you want it.”

You turn to leave, but then she calls out, her voice softer this time. “I’m serious about you, y’know. You don’t have to be scared of that.”

You don’t respond. You just keep walking, the weight of her words pressing down on you with every step. You try not to let it get to you, but damn, it does. You’re already second-guessing everything, wondering if maybe you’ve messed up by pushing her away.

But it’s hard to shake the feeling that, no matter what she says, you’re still just another girl who’ll get forgotten when she gets tired of you.

Later that night, you’re lying in bed, the room dark and silent, but your mind’s racing. Vi’s words echo in your head, over and over again: “I’m serious about you.”

You roll over, staring at the ceiling, unsure of what to do with the emotions that have suddenly surged through you. You’ve always kept your guard up—kept yourself distant, safe from getting hurt. But now? Now you’re not sure if that’s even possible. You’ve pushed her away, but maybe… maybe you’re wrong about her. Maybe you’ve been looking for excuses to protect yourself instead of just taking the leap.

You can’t stop thinking about her. About what she said.

“Stop running.”

And for the first time in a long while, you’re not sure if running’s the right thing to do anymore.

~~~

You’ve just about had enough of the monotony of chemistry class when Vi slides into the seat next to you. Of course, she’s late—Vi always is. You try not to notice how she somehow manages to look effortlessly badass even in the midst of a boring class. Her magenta hair is a little messier today, a few strands of it falling over her sharp eyes, which glint mischievously. She sits down, slinging her bag onto the floor with a heavy thud.

“Yo,” she greets, her usual cocky smile plastered on her face as she casually throws a glance your way. “You ready to mix some shit that’ll probably blow up in our faces?”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you grab your lab materials. “You’re something else, Vi. Always ready to burn the school down.”

“Only if I’m bored,” she retorts with a wink. “So, how’s the chemistry of our little ‘thing’ going?”

Your heartbeat stutters a little as you meet her gaze. You know exactly what she’s talking about. Yesterday’s confrontation in the bathroom is still fresh in your mind. The look on her face as she cornered you… that spark of determination mixed with frustration, and the vulnerability that she tried to hide.

You try to shake the memories off as you start setting up your experiment. You can’t let it mess with your focus. Not now. Not here.

“I’ve been thinking,” you finally say, voice low enough to avoid attracting the teacher’s attention. Vi quirks an eyebrow, leaning in slightly as she catches the shift in your tone.

“Oh? What about?” she asks, her voice casual, but there’s a hint of interest beneath the surface.

You take a deep breath. “About what happened yesterday… in the alley. With me pulling away and all that.”

Vi’s eyes soften for a moment, her usual playful mask slipping. “Yeah?” She leans back in her chair, watching you carefully, as if waiting for you to say what’s been on your mind.

“I’ve thought about it a lot,” you continue, trying to keep the nerves at bay. “I’m not gonna lie—I’m scared, Vi. Scared of being just another girl you hook up with and toss aside like the rest. I’m not some notch on your bedpost, you know?”

There’s a pause as Vi stares at you, her gaze intense. The playful grin is gone, replaced with something more serious, something you weren’t expecting to see. The room feels a little colder as the silence stretches between you two.

“I get it,” she finally says, her voice a little quieter than usual. “I’ve fucked up, okay? I’m not proud of it. But that’s not what this is, not with you.”

You roll your eyes, half-expecting her to pull one of her cocky, smooth-talking moves. But when she meets your gaze, you see something in her eyes—something real.

“I’m not promising I’m perfect,” she adds, her hands resting on the edge of the table as if she’s about to lean in, to make her point. “But I’ll be damn sure I don’t make you feel like you’re just another hookup.”

You’re not entirely convinced. You take a long, slow breath, processing everything she’s said. Maybe she’s sincere. Maybe she’s not. You don’t know for sure, but you sure as hell aren’t about to let her off the hook so easily.

“Alright,” you say, looking her dead in the eyes. “I’ll give you a shot. But my rule still stands.”

Vi tilts her head, a glimmer of confusion crossing her face. “Rule?”

You nod, leaning in slightly, matching her gaze. “No sleeping with the player until you prove you’re not just some smooth-talking, good-for-a-few-quick-hits girl. You’re gonna have to earn my trust, Vi. And that doesn’t come easy.”

She grins then, wide and mischievous. The old Vi, the one you’re used to, comes flooding back in full force. “Oh, I like a challenge,” she smirks. “I’ll prove you wrong. You’ll be begging me to take you to bed before you know it.”

You roll your eyes, though there’s a warmth creeping up your neck. “We’ll see about that. But, no. I’m serious. You need to work for it. You need to show me you’re more than your reputation.”

Vi leans back in her seat, an exaggerated sigh escaping her lips. “Man, I gotta work harder than I thought. Guess I’ll just have to pull out the charm and start winning you over the old-fashioned way.”

“You better,” you tease, raising an eyebrow. “Otherwise, don’t expect to get anywhere near me.”

She laughs, a genuine sound that’s enough to make your heart skip a beat. She may have been a cocky asshole at first, but now, with her little grin and the spark in her eye, you’re starting to see that maybe, just maybe, she’s more than her rep. Maybe you’ve been too quick to judge her.

“Well, alright then,” she says, the confidence returning to her voice. “You’re on. And you’ll see, I’m not like the rest of them. I’m not just gonna walk away from this. I’m sticking around. So you better get used to me.”

You can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Maybe she’s right. Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe it’s time to let someone in.

The rest of the chemistry lab passes in a blur of Bunsen burners and half-hearted attempts at paying attention to the teacher. But through it all, Vi stays close. A little too close sometimes, but you don’t mind it. Her presence is comforting in a way that you didn’t expect.

At the end of class, as you and Vi gather your things, she bumps her shoulder against yours with a playful grin. “You’re gonna regret this,” she mutters, the challenge clear in her voice.

“I doubt it,” you retort, smiling back. “But you’re welcome to try.”

She winks, clearly enjoying the banter, and for a moment, you think that maybe you’ve made the right choice. Maybe this is worth the risk.

That night, as you lie in bed, you can’t stop thinking about what happened in class. Vi’s words, her challenge, her promise to prove herself—it’s all swirling around in your mind. You’ve given her a chance. You’ve made her earn it, and now it’s up to her to show you she’s more than just a hockey player with a reputation. It’s not just about the physical connection anymore. It’s about trust.

And for some reason, you’re starting to believe that she’ll prove you wrong.

~~~

You hadn’t expected to be here. In fact, you would’ve bet money that there was no way in hell Vi was actually asking for help. You’d seen her breeze through math assignments and talk her way out of any awkward situation without breaking a sweat, but here she was, standing at her front door with a crooked grin plastered on her face.

“You really want me to help you with this?” you asked, one eyebrow raised as you looked down at the crumpled piece of paper in her hand. The last thing you thought you’d be doing today was sitting in her living room, going over an English paper.

“Yeah,” Vi shrugged, her voice a little more sheepish than usual. “I can do math, gym, whatever, but English? Ugh. That shit’s hard. Besides, I heard you’re good at this stuff.” She grinned, obviously trying to play it off, but you could see the hint of genuine concern in her eyes.

“Sure, Vi,” you said with a smirk, pushing past her to step inside. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Vi’s house was a stark contrast to her bold personality—small, homey, and kind of messy, with a hint of charm. The place smelled like baked goods, and a couple of half-empty coffee mugs sat scattered across the kitchen counter. There was a comfortable chaos to it, a lived-in feeling that made you realize just how human she was underneath that tough exterior. The dark gray walls were decorated with mismatched frames, pictures of her and her friends laughing, her sister, Powder, posing next to a trophy Vi had probably won. You could see the pride in her eyes when she talked about her little sister.

“Alright, come on. Let’s get to it,” Vi said, plopping down on the couch and patting the seat next to her, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I’m trusting you not to make fun of me for my spelling mistakes.”

You threw her a skeptical look but sat next to her anyway. The couch creaked under your weight, and Vi shifted to get comfortable. “You’re lucky I’m doing this for you, Vi.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, pulling the paper closer. “Just get to it.”

You started reading through the paper, trying to suppress a chuckle at how bad it was. The content wasn’t horrible—it was clear she had a decent understanding of what she was writing about. But the grammar? God, it was a disaster.

“This isn’t a high school paper, Vi,” you said, glancing up at her. “It’s a goddamn warzone of commas and run-on sentences.”

She flopped back on the couch dramatically. “Hey, I didn’t pick this class. English is bullshit, anyway. What’s the point of all this crap? They want me to write essays about some old dead guys who probably didn’t even know how to spell.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, and despite yourself, you rolled your eyes. “Maybe if you took the class seriously, you’d pass without me holding your hand.”

She smirked, clearly unbothered. “Hey, I’ve got other talents.”

“Right,” you said sarcastically, pointing to the paper. “Like… this ‘talent’ of turning a page of words into a cluster of bad choices?”

“Shut up,” she grinned, nudging your shoulder with hers. “Just fix it, okay? I’m pretty sure you could get an A for me, and I can’t be bothered to put in all that work.”

You sighed, but a part of you was willing to help. Vi had this way of making you care more than you probably should. You leaned in, scratching out a few of the sentences, rearranging them, and fixing the punctuation like it was no big deal. As you worked, Vi leaned in too, hovering just a little too close for comfort. The occasional brush of her arm against yours made you hyperaware of her presence.

“So, what do you even do for fun when you’re not wrecking your body on the rink?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation light, even as the proximity between you two seemed to increase with every move.

Vi looked at you, her expression turning slightly softer. “I… well, I don’t know. Hockey’s pretty much my thing. I guess I do some shit like play video games with Powder and the guys when we’re not at practice.”

You paused, taking a second to really look at her. The tough, cocky exterior cracked just enough for you to glimpse the person underneath—the girl who was still figuring herself out, who probably felt like she had to put up walls to protect herself. She wasn’t just a jock or the “bad girl” everyone thought she was. No, she had layers.

“You’re a gamer, huh?” you asked with a raised brow. “What games?”

She grinned, her usual cockiness slipping back in place. “Not that you’d understand, but I’m all about the classics. Got an old-school console in my room. You ever played Crash Bandicoot?”

Your eyes widened. “The classic? Hell yeah, I love that game. What else do you play?”

Vi laughed, clearly amused. “You’re telling me you play the same stuff? What are you, a 90’s kid or something?”

“I am a 90’s kid,” you shot back, nudging her. “It’s all about the classics.”

“Damn, I gotta admit, that’s kind of cute.” Her voice was quieter now, almost teasing, as she bumped her shoulder against yours again. “Maybe we should play sometime.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’ll have to beat me first.”

Her eyes lit up with the challenge, and for a moment, you both just locked gazes, the tension thick between you. She was still that cocky, determined girl who wouldn’t back down from anything, but now, you were starting to see the softer side of her—the one that liked the idea of playing games just for fun, the one that didn’t need to be the toughest girl in the room.

“Alright, alright, I’ll let you have that one,” she finally said, returning to her paper. “But I’m telling you, I’m winning next time.”

“Keep dreaming, Vi,” you teased as you finished up her paper, handing it back with a satisfied smile. “All done. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Vi grabbed the paper, her expression still full of playful cockiness, but there was something else in her eyes too. Something warmer. “Thanks, teacher. I guess you’re not totally useless after all.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you said, grinning. “I’m not helping you with the next one. You’ll have to figure that out yourself.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage. You just wait,” she shot back, the flirtatious edge in her voice making your stomach flutter, just a little.

You both sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, each of you catching your breath, your shoulders still brushing lightly from time to time. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t casual, either. It was something in-between, and neither of you seemed eager to break the moment just yet.

“I’ll walk you out,” Vi said, standing up and stretching, her muscles rippling beneath her hoodie. She reached a hand out to help you up, her touch lingering just long enough to make you feel like there was more between you two than you were willing to admit.

As you both headed to the door, Vi stopped for a moment, looking back at you with a soft smirk. “You’re not half-bad, y’know?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Flirting with me now?”

She chuckled, her usual cocky self returning, but there was something in her smile that felt real, more genuine than it had in a long time. “Maybe. But you’ve still got a long way to go before you can outplay me. Just remember that.”

With a wink, she closed the door behind you, leaving you standing outside, the faintest smile on your face.

You couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was going on between you two. Vi wasn’t like anyone else you’d ever met. She was tough, cocky, and didn’t take shit from anyone. But maybe there was more to her than the surface you’d been seeing.

~~~

The week flew by faster than expected. Vi had kept her promise, sticking to her word about taking things slow and never pushing you beyond your comfort zone. There was a comfort in how she respected your boundaries, the way she seemed to instinctively know when to back off and when to push you just enough to make you want more. It was a quiet kind of intimacy, one built more on trust than anything else. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this comfortable around someone, especially someone like Vi.

The mornings were filled with casual hellos as you passed each other in the hallways, and the afternoons were spent hanging out at her place, doing everything from aimless walks around the neighborhood to sitting in her room, playing dumb games on your phones—like Roblox, of all things. It was ridiculous, but it worked. She’d distract you with her stupid jokes, and you’d laugh so hard your stomach ached. The time you spent together felt like a mix of pure chaos and unexpected moments of peace, and you didn’t want it to end.

One evening, it was just the two of you again, sprawled out on her bed, half-arguing about some random thing you were doing in the game. You weren’t even sure what you were doing anymore; the game was background noise to the vibe that was building between you both. Vi was lying on her back, one arm propped behind her head, eyes glued to her phone screen while you focused on your own. It wasn’t much, just you two existing in the same space. The air was thick with something that neither of you were acknowledging—yet.

“Yo, you’re really bad at this,” Vi teased, her voice rough and playful. You rolled your eyes, smacking her arm.

“Shut up, you’re just mad ‘cause I’m better than you.”

She snorted, flicking your forehead. “Not even. You’re just lucky.”

A beat of silence passed, and her eyes flicked over to you, the playful glint in her gaze turning into something softer. “You’re always so focused on your phone. Like, you never actually pay attention to me.”

You lifted your head, arching an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She smirked, her voice dipping lower, teasing. “You’re just distracted. It’s cute, though. But I guess I’ll have to make you pay attention.”

The atmosphere shifted, and it wasn’t because of anything she said. It was in the way she said it, the way her voice softened at the end, laced with a challenge you couldn’t ignore. You felt your heartbeat pick up, the tension hanging in the air, thick with unspoken words.

You opened your mouth to reply, but then Vi was suddenly closer, her phone tossed aside, her hand gently resting on your arm. The subtle touch made your breath hitch in your throat. You swallowed hard, but she was already leaning in, eyes flicking to your lips and back to your eyes.

There was no turning back. You didn’t want to turn back.

And then, she kissed you. Softly, tentatively at first, just a press of lips that sent sparks through your entire body. Her hand found your cheek, gently cupping it, as if trying to pull you deeper into the moment. You kissed her back, slower at first, just savoring the connection, the feel of her lips against yours, the taste of something sweet and unspoken.

But as soon as you let yourself sink into it, something shifted—something raw and desperate. She pulled you closer, her body leaning into yours, and you felt the heat between you both intensify. You had no idea how you ended up this close, how everything blurred into one single feeling. Her hands were everywhere, pressing into your back, your waist, and you could feel her heart beating against your chest.

When she pulled away just a little, her forehead resting against yours, the breathless space between you felt electrified. You didn’t speak, but the world was still spinning in that moment.

“I don’t know what this is,” you whispered, the words barely audible in the quiet space between you.

Vi’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Does it matter?” She pressed her lips to yours again, this time with a little more urgency, as if trying to communicate everything she couldn’t say.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and suddenly, everything seemed so much clearer. She was everything you didn’t expect, but everything you needed. And in that instant, you couldn’t fight it anymore.

“I—” you started, but your words were lost when her hand slid down your side, making your breath catch.

The truth hit you all at once.

You were tired of playing by the rules. Of being cautious. Of hiding behind walls you didn’t need. Vi had a way of knocking them down without even trying, and you wanted nothing more than to be close to her. She’d made the first move, and you weren’t going to pretend like you didn’t want it. You weren’t going to lie to yourself anymore.

“I think you’ve got me,” you murmured, a small, shaky laugh escaping your lips.

Vi pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes searching yours, trying to make sure you were serious. “Yeah?”

Your chest tightened, your pulse racing, but this time, it was all excitement. “Yeah.”

And with that, she kissed you again, more fiercely this time, like she’d been waiting for you to catch up. You didn’t resist; you didn’t want to. And as the kiss deepened, you felt the last of your reservations slip away. You weren’t sure where this was going, but for the first time in a long time, you didn’t care. You were done pretending you didn’t want this. Done holding back.

You blinked at her, still reeling as she pulled back. “Vi…”

“Don’t overthink it,” she interrupted, brushing a strand of hair from your face. Her fingers lingered against your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. “Just…be here with me. Right now.”

It was a simple request, but it carried so much weight. This was Vi, after all—reckless and impulsive Breaking rules was practically her brand. And yet, despite her reputation, despite everything, you believed her.

So you nodded, and she smiled—a real smile, not her usual smirk. Then she kissed you again, slower this time, savoring the connection. Her hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. One of her legs hooked over yours, anchoring you together, and you gasped into her mouth.

“Relax,” she murmured, her lips trailing along your jaw. “I’ve got you.”

The words sent a wave of heat through you, and you arched instinctively into her touch. Her hands roamed your back, fingers pressing into your skin as if mapping every curve. When they dipped lower, grazing the waistband of your jeans, you shuddered.

“Vi…” you breathed, your voice shaky.

She paused, pulling back just enough to look at you. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” she said, her tone serious despite the hunger in her eyes.

You shook your head quickly. “Don’t stop.”

That was all the encouragement she needed. Her lips crashed into yours again, fiercer this time, and her hands slid under your shirt, fingers skimming over your stomach. The sensation was electric, and you moaned softly against her mouth, your nails digging into her shoulders.

Vi chuckled, the sound deep and satisfied. “Thought you might like that,” she teased, nipping at your lower lip before sucking gently.

Your hips bucked involuntarily, and she groaned, grinding against you in response. The friction was maddening, leaving you desperate for more. You tugged at her tank top, needing to feel her skin against yours, and she obliged, pulling it off in one fluid motion.

The sight of her bare chest stole your breath. Her toned muscles gleamed in the dim light, every scar and bruise telling a story of its own. You reached out, tracing the line of her collarbone with trembling fingers, and she shivered under your touch.

“Fuck, your hands…” she muttered, closing her eyes briefly. Then she leaned in, capturing your lips once more as her own hands worked to remove your shirt and bra.

The cool air hit your skin, raising goosebumps, but Vi’s warmth chased them away. Her palms slid up your sides, cupping your breasts as she kissed down your neck. When her teeth grazed the sensitive spot below your ear, you gasped, your head falling back.

“God, you’re beautiful,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire.

You couldn’t respond, too lost in the sensations rippling through you. Her tongue swirled over your nipple, teasing it into a hard peak, and you whimpered, your back arching off the bed.

“Vi, please…” you begged, though you weren’t even sure what you were asking for.

She seemed to understand anyway. Her hand slipped between your legs, rubbing slow circles over the fabric of your jeans. The pressure was delicious, and you rocked into her touch, chasing the pleasure building inside you.

“Is this what you need?” she asked, her voice husky.

You nodded frantically, unable to form words. She smirked, clearly pleased with herself, and unbuttoned your jeans with practiced ease. Her fingers hooked into the waistband, tugging them down along with your underwear, and the cool air against your heated skin made you gasp.

Vi knelt between your legs, her gaze raking over you with an intensity that made your stomach flip. “Look at you,” she breathed, her voice filled with awe. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Before you could respond, she lowered her head, her tongue swiping slowly up your folds. The sensation was almost too much, and you cried out, your hands tangling in her hair.

“Shh,” she soothed, glancing up at you with a wicked grin. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

And then she dived in, her tongue circling your clit with expert precision. You writhed beneath her, clutching the sheets as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Her name spilled from your lips in a broken chant, each syllable trembling with need.

Vi alternated her movements, switching between fast, flickering strokes and slow, deliberate ones, keeping you teetering on the edge. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, she slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right and hitting that spot that made stars explode behind your eyes.

“Oh my god!” you screamed, your hips jerking uncontrollably.

“That’s it,” Vi encouraged, her voice muffled against you. “Come for me, baby.”

The command shattered whatever restraint you had left. Your orgasm ripped through you, blinding and all-consuming, and you bucked wildly against her mouth, your cries echoing through the room.

Vi stayed with you through every wave, her tongue and fingers working tirelessly until you finally collapsed, boneless and spent. She crawled up your body, planting soft kisses along your stomach and chest before reclaiming your lips.

~~~

You didn’t sleep much that night. The buzz of Vi’s touch, her lips on yours, was still alive on your skin as you lay there, replaying every moment over and over. You’d finally given in, allowed yourself to trust, and now, the morning after, you were left with the consequences.

The most obvious consequence? The cluster of hickeys on your neck, dark red marks that stood out against your skin like graffiti on a clean wall. You didn’t even realize they were there at first. The heat of the moment had distracted you, and by the time you noticed, there wasn’t much you could do about it. Covering them up with makeup wasn’t an option, so you were left with a bad case of “wear your mistakes like a badge of honor” as you scrambled to throw on a hoodie and pray no one would notice.

But, of course, they did.

As you walked through the hallways of the school, you could practically feel the eyes of your classmates on you. The whispers were subtle at first, but you heard them all. “Look at her neck… is that… is she…?” It didn’t take much to piece together what they were talking about. You hated the attention. Hated how exposed you felt, like everyone could see right through you. And it wasn’t even just the rumors you were worried about—it was the thought of Vi.

What if she didn’t care about this, about you?

You barely made it to your first class before someone asked, “Did you get jumped last night or something?” That stupid, offhand comment sent your nerves into overdrive. Of course, you laughed it off, trying to act like it was no big deal, but inside, you were panicking.

And then there was Vi.

Her presence was like a weight on your chest, but you couldn’t escape it. You spotted her in the hallway between classes, her signature cocky smirk on display, as if she hadn’t a care in the world. She leaned against the locker like she owned the place, her muscles flexing underneath her hoodie. The crowd around her parted like the Red Sea, as it always did. You felt your stomach twist.

The moment your eyes met, she grinned. The mischievous glint in her eye was there, always there, but this time there was something else in it too—a challenge, maybe. A wink, and then she pushed off the locker to walk toward you, the smirk never leaving her lips.

You felt the heat rise in your face as she got closer, but you tried to stay cool. It wasn’t like you didn’t know what she was doing. Vi loved the effect she had on people, the way her mere presence could make anyone feel like they were under a magnifying glass. She was confident, magnetic, but right now, you couldn’t help but feel like you were in over your head.

“You look good today,” she said, her voice low and teasing, completely unfazed by the hickeys on your neck.

You blinked, caught off guard by the casualness of her tone. It didn’t seem like she was embarrassed. You, on the other hand, wanted to crawl into a hole and die. “Uh, thanks,” you mumbled, your eyes darting nervously around, trying to gauge how people were reacting.

Vi didn’t follow your gaze. Her hand found its way to your shoulder, fingers brushing against the fabric of your hoodie, and for a split second, you felt the world fade away. But only for a second. The whispers were still there, and you could feel the weight of their judgment.

“Everything okay?” Vi asked, her eyes narrowing with concern. “You seem kinda tense today. What’s going on?”

You bit your lip, unsure of how to explain the chaos in your mind. “It’s nothing. Just—” You gestured vaguely at your neck. “People are noticing.”

Vi’s smirk softened into something more like amusement, but there was a flicker of something else behind her eyes, something you couldn’t quite read. “So what? Let ‘em talk. They’re just jealous.”

“Jealous?” You scoffed. “Of what, exactly?”

She shrugged, unfazed by your sarcasm. “You’re mine. And they can see it. So, if they wanna talk, let ‘em talk.”

That should’ve been enough to ease your nerves. After all, Vi was the star athlete, the girl everyone wanted to be. She was used to attention. She was used to being the one people ogled. You, on the other hand, were the complete opposite—awkward, quiet, out of place in this chaotic world. You couldn’t shake the feeling that your insecurities were written all over your face.

Vi, as if sensing your hesitation, stepped in closer, her hand brushing against the small of your back as she leaned in slightly, her lips just brushing your ear. “I don’t give a shit what anyone else thinks, babe,” she whispered. “This thing between us? It’s between us. Got it?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew she meant it. Vi always meant what she said—when she cared about something, she went all in. It was just hard to reconcile that with the way you felt about yourself.

You weren’t like her. You weren’t the center of attention, the girl everyone was drawn to. You were the opposite—the quiet one, the one who spent more time in her head than engaging with the world around her.

Vi was everything you weren’t, but maybe that was what made it work. She had this confidence that practically radiated off of her, and it felt like she was constantly pulling you into her orbit, making you feel like you could be confident, too, even if it was only for a moment.

But deep down, you still couldn’t shake the question: Did she actually want to make this public?

Did she want to be with someone like you, someone who was so different from her? Or was this just another one of her flings, something she’d eventually tire of, leaving you with the pieces of your broken heart?

Before you could dwell on it any longer, Vi leaned back, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips as she straightened up. “You’re overthinking it, babe. Relax. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t feel entirely reassured, but you didn’t have the time to question her further. As much as you wanted to have a heart-to-heart, as much as you needed to know what this really was, the bell rang. Vi gave you a playful shove toward your next class, the kind of shove that told you everything was fine—at least, for now.

~~~

The moment you step through the cafeteria doors, you spot Vi. She’s leaning against the wall with her usual cocky grin plastered on her face, but she’s not just waiting for you. No, she’s got something planned. Something big.

You try to avoid her gaze, but it’s impossible. She’s got that confidence that fills up a room like it owns the place. You swear she has a magnet in her chest that just pulls all eyes to her. And today? Today it’s your turn. You’re stuck in her orbit whether you like it or not.

You try to focus on something, anything, but Vi’s energy is infectious, like a wildfire spreading through the room. And then, it happens.

Without warning, she’s up on top of the lunchroom table, eyes sparkling with mischief as the entire cafeteria quiets down. People start whispering, murmuring about what the hell is going on, but it doesn’t matter. Vi’s got the room’s attention, and she’s loving every second of it.

You’re already cringing, knowing what’s coming. You should’ve expected it. She stands tall, one hand holding a massive poster, the other in the air like she’s about to give a speech.

And then, she says it.

“Hey, (Y/N),” she yells, making sure every person in the room can hear her. “It would be pucking awesome if you’d go to prom with me!”

Your heart nearly stops in your chest. Oh, god. No. This cannot be happening.

The poster reads exactly as she said, written in bold, bright letters: It would be pucking awesome if you go to prom with me with the last words underlined for dramatic effect. And just to make it even worse, the entire girls’ hockey team is behind her, dressed in their jerseys, grinning like maniacs. Some of them are even clapping, egging Vi on, while others are cheering and whooping.

The entire room goes completely still. Not a single sound can be heard, except for your pulse in your ears. You can feel the heat rush to your face as you shrink back, desperately trying to hide behind the nearest lunch table. You’re mortified. Absolutely mortified.

Vi jumps down from the table, her boots making a satisfying thud as they hit the ground. She’s strutting toward you like she owns the place, and you can barely breathe as she reaches into her bag. She pulls out a single flower, a bold, red rose, and hands it to you with that same unbothered grin.

It’s cheesy. It’s ridiculous. It’s… Vi.

“Uh, yeah,” she says, voice low but still carrying over the murmurs of the crowd. “That’s for you, (Y/N). Prom? With me?”

You just stare at her, completely dumbfounded. What the hell is she thinking? What is this? Is she serious? Because if she is, this is… this is a level of public embarrassment you’re not sure you can handle.

“Vi!” you hiss, eyes darting around the room as you clutch the flower in your hand. “What the hell was that? In front of all these people? Are you trying to make me die of embarrassment?”

She shrugs casually, not even fazed by the attention. “What’s the big deal? I like you. I want you to go to prom with me. Why should I hide it?”

You want to yell at her. You really do. The way she’s acting like this is no big deal only makes it worse. But her tone, her sincerity—fuck, why does it make your heart race in a way that makes no sense?

“I don’t care what anyone thinks,” she continues, not even looking around at the still-staring crowd. She’s unapologetic, completely unbothered. “You and me? We’re a thing. And I’m gonna let everyone know.”

“You can’t be serious right now,” you mutter, still trying to process the overwhelming chaos of it all. “This is insane.”

“I am serious,” she says, and her smile softens just a little. “You’ve got to stop worrying about what other people think, (Y/N). It’s us. That’s all that matters.”

You glance at her, unsure of what to make of the vulnerability in her eyes. It’s a side of her you don’t often see, especially not in the midst of all the attention. And then it hits you—maybe, just maybe, this isn’t just some stupid joke to her. She’s actually trying to do something real. She wants you. She wants this to be something more.

“Vi, this isn’t funny,” you say quietly, feeling the weight of everyone’s stares on you. “You can’t just… throw this out there like it’s nothing.”

She steps closer, her grin widening again, that playful glint returning to her eyes. “Yeah, well, if it makes you feel better, I’ll be your personal spotlight for the rest of the day,” she teases, nudging your shoulder with her.

You want to tell her to stop, to get away from the center of attention, but your chest tightens. The thing is, as much as you hate the spectacle of it all, there’s a part of you—deep down—that’s actually touched by her boldness. She wants you, and she doesn’t care who knows about it.

For all her cockiness and bravado, she’s laying it all out there, no apologies, no hesitation.

You glance down at the flower in your hand, the red petals standing out against your clammy palm. You wish you could just disappear, but Vi’s there, looking at you with that grin that somehow manages to make you feel like the only person in the room.

“Okay, okay,” you mutter, trying to keep the nerves from taking over your voice. “I’ll go to prom with you. But you owe me for the public humiliation, alright?”

Vi laughs, loud and unrestrained, before she leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, a brief, soft thing that makes your knees weak. “Deal,” she says with that characteristic grin of hers. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

And despite the chaos, despite the fact that you just agreed to go to prom with the school’s biggest attention magnet, part of you already knows that it’s going to be fucking awesome.

~~~

The evening air is crisp as you stand at the front door, waiting. Your heart is pounding, and no amount of deep breaths is making it better. You’ve been nervously fidgeting for the last hour, trying to calm your racing thoughts. You’ve never been one for big events like this—prom was always something that seemed… unreachable, too perfect. But tonight? It’s not some fantasy. It’s real. You’ve got a hot date who happens to be a badass hockey player with a reputation that could make a lot of people sweat.

You adjust your outfit for the tenth time, just to be sure everything’s in place. Your dress hugs you in all the right places, the color matching the shade of your nervous but excited heart. Your makeup is flawless, you think. And you’re not going to be intimidated by the idea of being next to her. Vi.

Then you hear it—the soft crunch of gravel under tires. You step toward the door, just in time for the doorbell to ring, and you swing it open with a quick breath. And there she is.

Vi. Standing there like she owns the fucking world.

She’s dressed in a tailored suit, the fabric dark and sleek, hugging her athletic frame perfectly. Her hair is slicked back, the magenta strands impossibly smooth, leaving her face more defined, sharper than usual. Her piercing gray eyes meet yours as she takes you in, and for a moment, it feels like everything around you stops. The world might as well be holding its breath for this one moment. You know, for damn sure, she’s doing the same.

“You look… fuckin’ amazing,” she says, voice low, yet the smile playing on her lips says everything.

You blink, trying to collect your thoughts. “So do you,” you manage to say, voice tight with nerves you can’t seem to shake.

Her eyes scan you again, softer this time. “I meant it. Damn, you look so good I’m gonna have a hard time not showing you off tonight.”

Your stomach flutters at her words, but you quickly shove the sensation down. “Shut up. You’re the one who’s gonna make everyone jealous, aren’t you?” you tease, glancing at her with raised brows. You’re not wrong, though. Everyone will be staring at her tonight. That much is inevitable.

Vi steps closer, her body heat hitting you like a wave. “They can stare all they want,” she grins, her voice teasing, yet there’s something in her eyes that’s different—something that tugs at your heart. “But you’re the only one I’m interested in tonight.”

That makes your breath catch.

Before you can say anything else, she offers her arm, a smirk still tugging at the corner of her lips. “C’mon, we’ve got a night to ruin. Let’s go show ‘em how it’s done.”

The ride to prom is a blur of music, half-nervous laughter, and teasing jabs at each other. Vi is impossibly calm, while you feel like a nervous wreck. There’s something about her presence that steadies you, but still, it’s hard to shake the feeling of all eyes on the two of you. But when you arrive, it’s even worse.

The entrance is lined with other couples and singles, all eager to get their first glimpse at the night’s main event. You and Vi walk in, and the moment you cross the threshold, it’s as if the entire room turns to look at you. You can feel every eye on you—mostly on Vi, but you can feel the weight of their stares on you, too.

Vi’s hand is warm and firm against your back, guiding you through the crowd. She doesn’t seem phased by the attention. In fact, she’s loving it. And you can’t help but feel this ridiculous rush—this unexplainable burst of confidence just by standing next to her.

The two of you make your way to the dance floor. The music’s loud, the beat thumping under your feet, and Vi’s grip on you tightens as she pulls you toward her. “Let’s make this night ours,” she says, and her voice is rough with excitement.

You both get into the rhythm, bodies moving to the beat. You find yourself laughing at how easy it is, how the entire room could fall away and it wouldn’t matter. It’s just you and Vi. And for the first time in your life, it feels like you actually belong. You stop worrying about everything and just… feel. Her hands rest on your waist, pulling you closer, her breath warm against your cheek.

You don’t even notice the other couples around you until a loud cheer erupts from Vi’s friends. You glance around, and your heart almost skips a beat—Vi has pulled you in for a kiss in the middle of the dance floor, as casual as breathing. Her lips are soft, yet demanding, her hands firm but gentle as they hold you close.

The crowd’s not shy about making noise. Whistles. Clapping. A few of her teammates shout, “About time!” and the rest of them burst into applause, making you feel like the whole world is in on this moment.

But then it’s just you and her again.

Vi pulls back, her grin as cocky as ever, eyes glinting with mischief. “You’re incredible,” she murmurs, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. Her thumb gently caresses your cheek. You can feel the weight of her words, the sincerity behind them, and it hits you—this night is more than just a celebration. She’s here. For you. And there’s no doubt in your mind that she’s serious about it.

You smirk, giving her a playful shove. “You better stop, you’re gonna make me blush.”

Vi laughs, pulling you closer again, resting her chin on your shoulder. “Let ‘em look. They’re jealous. No one’s gonna have a night like this. It’s ours, babe.”

Later, after the music has died down, and most of the students are either too drunk or too tired to keep going, you and Vi slip away from the chaos. You find a quiet spot outside, away from the flashing lights and the sound of laughter.

The night sky is clear, the stars shining brightly above you. You sit down on the grass, your legs outstretched as you lean back to look at the constellations. Vi sits next to you, her hand brushing against yours.

#arcane #vi imagines #vi headcanons #violet arcane #vi x y/n #vi x you #vi x reader #vi arcane #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #high school #highschool au #jock #highschool jock X reader

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