#vi arcane

[loaksky]

— come a little closer

hockey jock!vi x tutor!reader, fluff / humor / angst / kinda slowburn / smut (18+ mdni!), wc: 16k+ [buckle your seatbelts bc i could not shut the fuck up about vi if i wanted to !]

synopsis: you’re many things; an exemplary student, quiet and well-mannered, loved immensely by those who bother to get to know you, but most importantly, the newfound object of superstar athlete vi’s every affection. or, in other words, hockey jock!vi is lowkey a loser, atrociously down bad, and will stop at nothing to make you hers.

content warnings: language (duh), brief mentions of familial issues, latent insecurity, miscommunication & lack of communication, kissing, groping, SEX! mdni, seriously, i’ll THROW UP!, more specifically fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving), spitting, makeup sex idk, just good old fashioned lesbian BANGING! also! jazz cabbage, lets pretend for the sake of this au that student athlete’s don’t get tested bc i NEED hockey jock!vi to hotbox reader PLS.

fic soundtrack: i could imagine —alina baraz /snooze — sza /tonight — summer walker / pressure — james vickery + sg lewis / wish that i could — umi

author’s note: of course it’d be arcane s2 that resurrects me from my almost yearlong hiatus...pls enjoy this fic even though i’m pretty rusty; she’s been cooking in the drafts for weeks T-T i’ll be answering some (very long overdue) asks and chatting with you guys <3 and finally, this shit is barely proofread bc my brain is fried lol

main masterlist | arcane masterlist

VI HAS A HUGE PROBLEM.

One that supersedes every issue she’d ever given weight to in all of her four (and a half) years of university. Is way larger than twice-a-day practices on and off the ice that go hand-in-hand with studying so hard to make sure that her grades don’t slip a fraction. Probably way bigger than the fact that her little sister’s graduating high school soon and she’s trying her absolute best to be as great a role model as she can despite wanting to crack under the pressure. And most definitely bigger than her favorite on-again-off-again fling, Cait Kiramann, whose rare to come by these days.

Vi has a huge problem, and quite frankly, it’s you.

In hindsight, she’s been relatively good at overlooking you, not that it’d been intentional to begin with, but Vi knows a lot of people. Too many, she feels sometimes. So it's easy for you to slip through the cracks when everyone’s vying for even a shred of her attention.

Perhaps it’s what piques her interest when your orbits finally do collide. Because, admittedly, you know all about Vi. Know that she’s probably one of the most valuable players on the uni’s hockey team (she’s an absolute beast on the ice). Also know that she’s a biomedical physics major and actually incredibly smart. But most of all, you know that not only is Violet a flirt, she’s a player.

Not necessarily that you’ve ever really been on the receiving end, but mostly because her reputation precedes her and you’ve seen it all from a distance. Can't not when the decorated hockey star is such a charmer whether she intends to be or not. Vi has girls both certain and questioning stumbling for a single glance.

You often think it’s pitiful, but it’s not like it’s really your problem.

Until it is.

It all starts at The Afterparty.

Hours after a big victory in the first game of three that solidifies whether the university hockey team participates in the championships, Violet is the star of tonight’s celebration.

She’d sunk the winning shot, and for that she’s being poured shot after celebratory shot. By eleven she’s practically hammered and it’s when her teammate, Ellie, and the captain, Abby, finally show up.

The three of them together, drunk, is like a minefield of obnoxious laughter, dirty innuendos, and rowdy behavior.

And for a while it’s funny, has Vi feeling like she’s on cloud nine, but eventually, the drunken high begins to evaporate and she starts to feel a little overwhelmed.

The spotlight shifts and even though Vi typically preens under the attention, she’s grateful to finally breathe.

With a plastic cup full of water, she’s sliding the back door open and stepping out onto the back patio to take in the cool air for a breather.

She makes a move towards the stairs, but nearly jumps out of her skin when she registers the silhouette at the base of the steps.

“Jesus, fuck,” Vi hisses to herself. “You scared the shit outta me.”

You don’t even spare her a glance over your shoulder, just take a sip from your drink.

“Sorry,” you hum passively.

She catches her breath, doesn’t even bother to ask permission as she drops all of her weight next to you.

The step creaks under pure muscle.

Her strong legs stretch out, elbows settling back against the step up as she waits. And waits. And waits.

The amount of silence that lapses is unusual, uncharacteristic for Vi, especially so because people are typically babbling enough to fill the void when it comes to her.

But you just sit there, nursing your beer and staring up at the stars. The moon hangs half in the sky, softly illuminating the planes of your features.

It’s her first good look at your face and Vi’s definitely drunk, but the immediate thought that comes to her mind is pretty, pretty, pretty. Undeniably and painfully pretty. And not Caitlyn pretty, the only girl she’s ever really used as a benchmark, but intimidatingly so in your own right. Makes her swallow hard, throat bobbing as she watches you unapologetically.

“It’s rude to stare, Violet,” you say simply, eyes finally flitting to meet hers.

Her breath catches in her throat, earthy flecks dancing in your moonlit irises. God, your eyes. Framed by thick lashes and round as you look up at her.

“You know who I am?” she asks stupidly as if point fives of her face aren’t blown up into memes and plastered all over the house.

“Who doesn’t?” you ask, breathing a puff of humorless laughter as you crush the can in your ringed fingers.

And perhaps you got her there, but Vi’s feeling exceptionally small under your gaze despite usually filling out a room. Something about you makes her shrink.

“I— fuck,” Vi stumbles, cheeks red because you’re looking at her with an indecipherable gleam in your gaze that has her squirming. “What’s your name?”

She cringes at herself, rolls the piercing in her nose once, twice, for comfort.

You laugh again, a little more genuine this time because, from a distance, the athlete’s usually so suave, undeniably gorgeous and composed. Right now, the girl in front of you only ticks one of those boxes.

“________,” you offer.

She weighs the name on her tongue, decides she likes it a lot, and tries to shake off whatever this feeling you’re giving her is.

“And you go to school here?” she asks.

You nod once.

“Neuroscience, fourth year.”

“Huh, we’re in similar fields, but I’ve never seen you around,” Vi observes. Because she’s certain she’d bookmark a face like yours, absolutely no doubt about it.

“We had organic chemistry together sophomore year with Dr. Talis,” you say matter-of-factly, like you’re not blowing her mind right now. “And I’m auditing Medarda’s biometry class this semester.”

Vi’s floored.

“Wait, wait, but...” She’s trying to piece the puzzle together, but her brain’s still a little fuzzy, equal parts from the alcohol, but also because she’s caught a whiff of your perfume and you smell so sweet.

“I pop in every once in a while,” you tell her. “But I tutor in that time slot every Tuesday and Thursday, only really go when I don’t have any appointments.”

“Hold on, this is nuts,” Violet says, body easing to face you. You flinch because she doesn’t realize she’s practically yelling. “There’s no way, I definitely would’ve remembered you if that was the case.”

You hum, corners of your lips quirking as you shrug your shoulders.

“Doubt it,” you counter. “I’m nothing particularly spectacular.”

“Nothing particularly spectacular,” Vi repeats under her breath.

And under normal circumstances, she’d be flirting up a storm right now, trying to charm her way into getting you to bite, but this is one of the first semblances of normalcy she’s experienced in a while. No ulterior motives, no exaggerated kindness, no outright asking her to fuck.

Suddenly your phone lights up in your lap and you’re turning your attention to the device.

“DD duties call,” is all you say as you make a move to stand up.

No, this can’t be all she gets from you tonight. Not when she’s been narrowly missing someone like you for the past four years and you’re just now coming to light.

The dormant liquid courage bubbles and Vi’s gently grabbing your wrist to pull you to a stop.

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” she asks, steely eyes liquid as she stares up at you.

You eye the scar on her lip, gaze lingering there before flitting to meet hers.

“Maybe.”

Vi decides that she needs to see you again.

You’d left her with crumbs this past Friday night and she’d spent the better part of the weekend trying (and failing) to cross paths with you again.

“Jesus, you’re down bad,” Ellie chuffs Monday morning on their walk to the campus coffee shop.

“You don’t understand,” Vi defends. “She’s so...so...”

“So?”

“Different, I dunno,” Vi sighs, fiddling with the strap of her backpack as they walk. “We didn’t even talk about much, but that was the most normal I’ve felt around someone in a while.”

Her teammate snorts.

“Probably the gayest thing I’ve heard you say,” Ellie deadpans. “She isn’t immediately trying to munch and you’re already in love. Pathetic.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Vi scoffs as they approach the coffee shop, inside packed full with half-functioning college students so early in the morning. “Trust me, if you met her, you’d—”

The words die in her throat because halle-fucking-lujah, the universe or god, or whatever has answered her every prayer this past weekend as she clocks you a few paces ahead in line.

Ellie follows her friend’s line of vision to find exactly what she’s staring at and she lets out a low whistle when her gaze finds your frame.

From a completely aesthetic standpoint, she can see why Vi’s immediately hooked.

“Hah,” she makes a noise in her throat. “Okay, so maybe it makes sense.”

Vi can’t help but stare because, if it were possible, you were far prettier under the warm lighting of the cafe’s ambiance. The curls of your hair frame your face beautifully and it’s so fucking cute how focused you are on your phone.

“Hate to break it to you, though. That girl’s way out of your league,” Ellie says like it’s common knowledge.

“Wow, way to boost my ego,” Vi mutters drily.

“Just being realistic,” Ellie argues. “If you bag her, she’s easily the hottest girl you’ve been with.”

And Vi can’t really contest that, not when the proof’s in the fucking pudding.

Her body’s moving of its own accord and before she can register her own actions, she’s mumbling quiet s’cuse me’s under her breath as she squeezes between patrons to close a bruised hand over your shoulder.

You nearly jump out of your skin, fumbling with your phone as an earbud falls out.

“Shit, sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Vi says quickly.

Your gaze snaps to her, brows furrowing almost imperceptibly before your expression settles.

“Violet,” you acknowledge.

And she realizes that she didn’t really have a game plan coming up to you so abruptly. Had been so focused on actually just seeing you again, that she hadn’t thought through the rest of it.

The way you stare up at her is thoroughly disarming because she doesn’t have the shield of night or alcoholic courage to carry her through it.

“Can I help you?” you ask, but not unkindly.

“Oh, uh, I...” She chances a glance over her shoulder to find that Ellie is watching her from a few customers away, eyebrow cocked and smirk testing. She word vomits before she can think of a coherent thought. “You mentioned tutoring...the last time we talked.”

You don’t even bat an eye.

“I did.”

“You’re also auditing Medarda’s biometry class.”

“I am.”

“I’m...I’m not really doing too hot in Medarda’s right now,” Vi says, brain nearly short-circuiting and freezing up because, lie! She’s doing phenomenally in Medarda’s session and, truthfully, she’s just downright scared to ask you to hang out.

Especially when you look up at her like that.

You shift and she’s swallowing down around nothing.

“Hmm, can’t have that, can we?” you hum.

Vi could melt.

“No,” she breathes out a laugh. “Can’t.”

“You can sign up for a slot through the library’s website,” you say after you weigh the thought.

Vi’s pausing, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

“So I can get paid?” you fill in.

“Oh, right,” Vi chokes. “Right.”

You give her a soft smile before plugging your earbud back in, leaving Vi to rejoin her obviously amused friend.

“You’re fucking joking!”

The librarian gives you and your incredulous roommate a look from the circulation desk and you return it with a sheepish smile from where you’re tucked by a wall of looming floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Maddie,” you whisper.

“You’re telling me that The Violet asked you personally to tutor her?” Maddie asks you, leaned over the tabletop with wide eyes.

“Yeah, cornered me at Brew House this morning and asked me to tutor her in Medarda’s class.”

“Just that?” she asks. “Nothing else?”

You look around in disbelief.

“Uh, yeah?” you scoff. “What else would she want?”

“What else would she— are you serious?” Maddie leans back in her seat, arms crossing over her chest as she gives you a plain look. “You know all about Vi, you’re actually gonna play stupid?”

“Oh, come on.” You roll your eyes. “You’ve seen the girls Violet’s fucked, right? Kiramann? The blonde from the tennis team? She’s got a type and you know it.”

It’s Maddie’s turn to roll her eyes and you see the exasperated groan she’s staving off.

“None of that self-deprecating bullshit—”

“It’s not self-deprecating!” you argue. “Not everyone wants to fuck Violet, Maddie. Put me in the number one spot.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Don’t start.”

“All I’m saying is that anyone with eyes can see that Vi’s hot as fuck. That being said, you’re also hot as fuck. Not only that, but rumor has it, she gives the most toe-curling—”

You’re rolling your eyes again, gaze fluttering out the window momentarily only to find that, speak of the devil, Violet’s approaching the library with a skip in her step.

Maddie stops her spiel to trace your gaze and nearly falls out of her seat when she finds the object of your conversation is advancing, fast.

“No fucking way,” you whisper to yourself, pulling up your tutoring log on your tablet to find that, yup, Violet has most-definitely taken your advice and signed up for a tutoring slot.

If the time reads correctly, you’ve got three minutes before she’s due to be taking Maddie’s seat.

Your friend is grinning at you mischievously, stuffing her backpack quickly to vacate the space across from you.

“Un-fucking-believable,” you scoff, slumping back in your seat.

“Tell me how it goes,” she giggles, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she stands.

“Maddie,” you warn.

“Love you, see you at home!”

Violet’s strolling into the library just as Maddie leaves through the other doors and try as you might make yourself small in the open air near the research center, her gaze falls on you as soon as she enters.

“Hey,” she breathes once breaches your vicinity.

“Hi.”

A moment lapses before you’re nodding towards the seat before you.

“We can get started whenever you’re ready.”

Right. Right! Vi’s mentally cringing, pulling the chair out with a squeak and dropping onto the worn cushion.

Her eyes are locked, watching as you pull the biometry textbook from your little messenger bag.

“Any particular areas you’re struggling in?” you ask, flipping to a clean sheet of paper in your notepad and clicking open your pen.

Vi combs her brain, tries to think of anything she’s not really grasping in Medarda’s class, but she’s been acing all the exams with flying colors, so she spits out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Logistic regression, probably,” she answers.

“In relation to...?” You tilt your head and Vi’s breath is hitching.

“The Confusion Matrix,” she answers, even though she knows all about it.

It’s only when you start breaking it down from the bare bones that she realizes that she could listen to you talk for-probably-ever.

You obviously have a great understanding of the subject if the way you deconstruct the relationship between sensitivity and specificity (or whatever the fuck) is anything to go by, and she doesn’t realize that she hasn’t even blinked until you’re glancing up at her.

“Am I making any sense?” you ask softly, taking in the almost confused look on Violet’s face.

“Huh?”

Vi snaps out of it, cheeks coloring pink when she notes the way you straighten in your seat.

“Am I going too fast?”

“No, no!’ Vi practically shouts before chancing an embarrassed gaze around the library to find a few wandering eyes. She clears her throat and tries to relax. “No, you’re doing great. I get it.”

You don’t seem convinced, but the faster you get through the material, the faster Violet can leave and you can finally catch your breath.

Because maybe Maddie’s a little right. That while you know, one hundred percent, without-a-doubt, that you and Violet are cut from two different cloths and that you ultimately won’t mesh, there’s still a sliver of want that settles somewhere confined in the pit of your gut.

You don’t know how long you continue before you notice that sun has begun to set in the horizon, but Vi’s effort is unwavering. She’s probably on her tenth practice problem by now and so far, she’s only flubbed once.

You decide to fold your cards first.

“O-kay,” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as you roll your shoulders and squeeze your hands shut so tight your knuckles crack. “This is a good stopping point, don’t you think?”

No, Vi could keep going forever if it meant hearing you talk all night, but the little G-shock wristwatch winks the time and she realizes that the two of you have been going at it for going on two hours and you’re probably exhausted.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so long,” Vi says sheepishly. “Thanks a lot for your help, I...”

You look up from where you’re shuffling your papers together, pausing when she hesitates.

“I really appreciate you. I know you probably help dozens of people every week and—”

She stops talking when she sees you crack what seems to be the first genuine smile she could get out of you since Friday.

“It’s my job, Violet,” you tell her. “I’m happy to help.”

And she’d done well enough during the tutoring session, had a successful run with the practice problems. You were confident it was just a one and done. Perhaps served as a review for the upcoming exam Medarda had posted on the class page.

But then you see her name in the final time slot on Thursday, don’t really think much of it until you’re tabbing to next week’s schedule for shits and giggles. Tuesday and Thursday are booked through again, her name highlighted in yellow.

You minimize the calendar and pull up the aggregate schedule only to find that every 4 o’clock slot every Tuesday and Thursday’s been booked until the end of the semester.

You refresh for good measure.

“Oh, you’re so shitting me.”

You don’t know what kind of joke this is, if Violet thinks that this is funny, but you’re not amused.

Especially when you’re stalking all the way to the athletic hall, ignoring the wolfish stares from shameless student athletes to whip into the women’s hockey team’s reserved conditioning space.

You find her benching near the center of the room, Abigail Anderson spotting her while the rest of the team engages in various workouts and exercises.

A hush ripples over the weight room as you approach the hockey star, standing at the end of the bench where her knees are bent. One of Abigail Anderson’s eyebrows quirk up as you stand there with your hands on your hips and you hope the chill that runs down your spine as she checks you out doesn’t visibly vibrate your body.

When the barbell nearly crushes Vi’s chest on her last rep, Abby’s quick to help her re-rack and takes the biggest step back as Vi sits up.

Her expression falls and her face pales when she locks eyes with you, your features severe and gaze stony.

“Oh, hey,” she squeaks.

Truthfully, she hadn’t really pinned you as the type to be confrontational. Thought she’d have enough time to build a strong enough story as to why she booked out all of your tutoring sessions when in actuality she panicked when Ellie started grilling the fuck out of her about being a fucking pussy and begging her to just ask you out.

“You have some explaining to do, Violet.”

And she should definitely be embarrassed, not at all turned on, but she can’t help it as she gulps. Because when you stand before her like this, she can easily admit that she’d die for a private version of the view.

The silence in the weight room is palpable and you want to back down, but if this is some running joke and Vi’s going to make a show of humiliating you in front of her teammates, then you’d give her a show.

“Violet.”

Someone in the back snickers, another whistles, and Vi’s cheeks go red.

She’s standing, sweaty hands closing around your biceps as she spins you around and quickly guides you out of the conditioning room and out of her teammates’ line of ogling sight.

“V—”

“I’m sorry,” Violet splutters. “I’m just not really confident in Medarda’s class right now and I don’t trust myself to study alone, plus you’re a really good tutor and—”

“You do realize that those tutoring sessions are added to your tuition, right?” you ask incredulously. “It’s fifteen dollars an hour.”

Vi’s smile is crooked.

“That’s what my scholarship’s for,” she grins.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive?” you try again. “I feel that before an exam for a little refresh is fair, but this would be like relearning the material after every class, all over again.”

“If it’s taught by you, I’ll take it,” Vi says quickly, and you pause because what does she mean by that?

You don’t really have much rebuttal left even though you’d marched up here with a fire under your ass. Vi’s looking down at you with a softened edge in her gaze and she’s wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants and sweat-soaked grey tank that reveals swathes of ink that curls up her arms and disappears under the fabric of her shirt.

She breathes out a small laugh when she notices the way your eyes dance.

“Anymore concerns, cupcake?”

Your gaze snaps to hers and her grin widens when she sees you fidget, little pet name obviously eliciting a semblance of a reaction from you.

“N-No,” you stammer.

“Great, see you tomorrow?“

You swallow.

“Okay,” you agree. “See you tomorrow.”

Violet pops into the library at four on the dot.

Her hair’s wet from an obvious shower and you smell her, warm like honey and cedar as she takes the seat across from you.

“Afternoon, cupcake,” she greets, slinging her backpack into the seat next to her.

You give her a warning look, but she just flashes you a toothy smile and nods towards the opened biometry textbook before you.

“What’s the lesson today, Teach?”

And this feels an awful lot like mocking, but you can’t be sure, not when Vi’s been somewhat respectful, sweet even.

“What do you know about the the sigmoid function?” you probe.

“Jack shit,” she laughs.

And maybe you’d find it endearing if the entirety of the situation wasn’t still absolutely mindfucking you at moment.

“Can I ask you something, Violet?” you ask, leaning back in your seat as you cross your arms to level her with as an intimidating look as you can.

“Sure, anything.”

“Are you messing with me?” you ask. “Is this some joke you and your friends are playing? Because I can’t really think of an outcome that would be funny.”

And you’d like to say that the look of horror on Violet’s face is consolation enough, but you know how being loved and being popular can make people act sometimes.

Vi contemplates telling you the truth, that she’s too chickenshit to ask you out, that getting close to you in any other way scares the fuck out of her. That maybe getting you to tutor her will segue into some form of friendship that’ll allow her to ease her way in. And maybe she’s going about it the hard way, but maybe Vi also likes a challenge.

“No jokes, just bad at statistics,” she says weakly.

You’re silent for way longer than comfort allows before you turn your attention to the textbook and Vi’s letting out a breath she doesn’t realize she’s holding.

“Fine,” you give in. “Let’s talk about sigmoid function and practice some applications...”

Vi’s happy to listen, goes through your preselected practice problems with ease (and maybe fucks up a value or two here and there to really sell her need for you). But the sun’s going down again, and it’s nearing six when Vi folds her hand this time around.

It comes in the form of her stomach grumbling in the emptying library and she looks up at you in embarrassment as you crack the first smile of the evening.

“Hungry?” you ask.

“Starving,” she replies dramatically, leaning so far back in her seat, her knees bump yours under the table.

Your toes curl at the contact, heart skipping when she doesn’t make a move to reposition herself.

“Have you eaten yet?” she asks, eyes looking everywhere but yours.

“Not since breakfast,” you admit.

“You like pizza?”

“Only the good kind,” you challenge.

“Beautiful,” Vi hums, shuffling her papers into her textbook and chucking it back into her bookbag. “I know the best place.”

Valentino’s is a hole-in-the-wall right outside of campus, a short walk from the library that Violet leverages as a way to get to know you outside of being lectured about statistical curves and correlation.

“Did you grow up around here?” Vi asks once the waiter sets two glasses of water down between the two of you.

You shake your head.

“No, grew up on the east coast and decided I needed a break from my life there,” you admit easily.

It’s almost as if the facade of professionalism fades away, melting to reveal you.

Vi’s desperate for more.

“As in?”

You look at her for a moment, wonder if you should divulge because you’re not really sure if Vi would get it, but she watches you like she’s hanging onto every single word you say, so you’re spilling.

“My dad died when I was little, left me and three other siblings with my Mom,” you offer. “And I love my siblings. Love my mom. She’s been a great parent, better than great actually, but most of our family disowned me when I came out and it was easier to run away than to deal with it.”

Violet’s expression falls, a furrow settling deep between her brows.

“Wow, I’m, uh, I’m really sorry to hear that,” she says, and she sounds sincere. A long moment lapses before she’s adding, “for what it’s worth, I think that’s very brave of you.”

And you seem a little surprised at the sentiment.

“Thanks.” You smile. “That’s sweet of you to say.”

Vi could turn to goo in this dimly lit booth, stained-glass wall sconce casting a warm glow over your pretty face.

“You—” She sniffs, changes the subject because she doesn’t know if she can do this on an empty stomach. “You like pineapple on your pizza?”

“Oh yeah,” you confirm proudly. “It’s a hill I’ll die on, I’m not sorry.”

“God, marry me now.”

She doesn’t realize she says it out loud until you’re bursting into a fit of laughter on your side of the booth.

“So this is something we can agree on?” you ask, head tilting in the way that makes Vi want to grab your face and taste you.

“Oh yeah,” she parrots instead. “One hundred percent.”

Valentino’s becomes routine just as much as Vi seeing you at four every Tuesday and Thursday becomes routine. It’s always after the Thursday session (because they have a three dollar slice from 6 to close) that you and Vi cram yourselves in the same booth near the kitchen and giggle over half a Hawaiian pizza.

“...And my little sister blew up her science project in the fourth grade—”

You choke on your bite, eyes wide as Violet recalls Powder’s little mishap that sent the entire gymnasium evacuating despite the tiniest fire.

“Now she’s about graduate and start school for chemical engineering,” she says, obviously proud.

“She seems like a smart girl,” you observe, if the countless stories Violet shares with you is anything to go by.

You figure being related to someone as great as the new friend you’ve made also speaks for itself.

“The smartest,” she agrees. “I’m proud of her.”

“I’m sure she’s proud of you too,” you assure her. “You’re a good big sister.”

And it’s in these moments that Vi realizes that she’s in far, far deeper than she initially gave stock. Because these past few weeks, she realizes that there’s a lot more to your big brain and your pretty face. You’re an attentive listener, way funnier than she could have anticipated, and just a lot more laid back than you let on.

That much she finds out after the two of you graduate from emailing with silly sign-offs to exchanging phone numbers and texting. It starts off rather irregular, a coffee order here and there, maybe a TikTok that Vi swears is funny, you just have to watch it all the way through! But then she starts texting you when she’s bored, when she’s in class, before practice, after. Even pops the question that’s been niggling at her since she met you: on a scale from 1 - 10 how down are you to smoke?

Like cigarettes?

no, weed, dummy.

Oh. Hmm. 7. 10 if I’m drunk.

She could not wipe the smile from her face even if she tried.

And then she gets the invite.

Ellie swears it’s her in.

“Jesus Christ if you even consider me a friend, you’ll bang,” Ellie calls from the couch.

“It’s just tutoring,“ Vi argues.

“Yeah, at her place,” she scoffs. “At least test the waters, maybe cop a feel.”

“You’re a pig,” Vi snorts, making sure her laptop and all of the worksheets Medarda’s assigned over the course of the week is in her backpack.

“You’ve been wet dreaming over this girl for months.”

“Fuck all the way off.” Vi’s face warms because her best friend isn’t necessarily wrong.

You’re too hot for your own good, but you don’t even know it and Vi thinks she could die sometimes. Especially when you wear your favorite pair of jeans, the ones that hug the swell of your ass just right. Or swipe on that shimmery lipgloss she swears makes your mouth look edible.

If you were willing, Vi would be all over you, but thinking about taking advantage of the fact that you trust her enough to invite her into your space feels a little grimy.

“Whatever, bang, don’t bang,” Ellie says nonchalantly. “Blueball yourself for all I care.”

Vi rolls her eyes, slings her bag over her shoulder before sliding on her shoes and leaving her friend on the couch with a resounding click.

You live off-campus, maybe a ten minute drive, in a cozy little complex near the suburbs. Your roommate, Maddie, a chipper blonde with a bob, is all too eager to leave when Vi arrives.

“Hi, sorry we couldn’t meet anywhere else,” you apologize as you let her into your space. “Even if the library wasn’t closed, the vet said I have to monitor Pip for the next 48 hours.”

Vi raises a brow.

“My cat,” you clarify.

“Oh.” Vi doesn’t know why she suddenly feels like she’s intruding as she hesitantly toes off her shoes and follows you down the hall.

But she does take the opportunity to take you in in all your glory; all cozy and cuddly in an oversized sweatshirt, plaid pajama shorts and mismatched egg socks.

Cute. So fucking cute.

You spare her a glance over your shoulder and she’s clearing her throat.

“We don’t have to have a session tonight," she says, stopping at the threshold of the living room. “I would’ve understood if you had to cancel.”

You shake your head, give her a soft smile that has her knees feel like jelly.

“S’okay,” you assure her. “A promise is a promise.”

And you do start off studying, shoulder to shoulder in front of your coffee table, but then Pip crawls from his little hiding spot under the TV console to curiously nose along Vi’s feet and she’s a goner.

“He’s so sweet,” she practically wails as he paws at her thigh and nudges against her arm so that he can climb into her lap.

You warm at the sight, can’t help but snap a picture, much to Violet’s dismay.

“Stop,” she laughs. “That picture can’t see the light of day.”

“Why?” you whine, making a show of climbing onto your wooden coffee table to get a funny top down photo of the hockey star with your cat. “You and Pip look so cute together.”

She feigns a scowl even though her shoulders shake with laughter.

“I have a bad boy image to uphold, sweetheart.”

You snort, reach into her lap to scratch behind Pip’s ear, and her heart melts, body warm from her ears to her toes.

“Is he sick?” she asks cautiously, petting him softly.

“Just a little,” you say. “Something some rest and medicine won’t fix.”

It’s how the two of you end up on the couch, study materials long forgotten as Animal Planet plays in the background. Pip’s moved to lounge atop the covers draped over your lap and you’re blowing your nose into a tissue as an especially sad segment about baby animals being rejected by their mothers finishes.

Vi knows she shouldn’t laugh, but you’re too fucking cute and she can’t help but coo at you.

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” you hiccup.

“What, that you’re a big soft baby?” she teases.

“Vi,” you whimper.

And something in her brain tickles because she can’t recall a time you’d ever called her by her nickname, only ever referred to her as Violet and nothing else.

She resists a smile.

“Okay, okay,” she gives in. “Lets change the subject.”

You make a noise of agreement as you cuddle your sleepy Pip.

“I actually wanted to ask you something,” she says, arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers a hairsbreadth from your figure.

Test the waters, cop a feel.

Vi’s not particularly into the idea, but the opportunity’s right there in the way wisps of your hair falls from its hold. Her fingers move of their own device, tucking the strands behind your ear.

She feels you still for the slightest, most imperceptible of moments, but then you’re relaxing, letting her fingers brush from your ear down to your shoulder, then back to where it rests on the back of the couch.

“You doing anything on Saturday?” she asks, really hopes you’ll say no.

“Not that I know of,” you say without second thought.

Not that you really need to. Your tight circle of friends are all alike, tethered to their hobbies and their homes.

“I have a game on Saturday,” Vi starts, fiddling with a little hole in the cushion. “If you wanted to come.”

You don’t agree or disagree immediately, and Vi’s scrambling to soothe over any potential discomfort.

“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna, of course,” she says quickly. “I just— I thought you might be interested in going and I’d really like to see you there and—”

A small little laugh puffs from your lips.

“Of course I’ll go,” you agree easily.

Vi deflates in relief.

“Great,” she sighs. “Awesome.”

Vi doesn’t know why she invites you. More so, she doesn’t know why she tells her teammates that she’s invited you because now they’re whooping and hollering in the locker room, towel-whipping her and sing-songing that their star player’s gonna get laid.

Doesn’t know why she invites you because as soon as she glides on the ice, she’s searching the stands high and low for your familiar figure. When she clocks you nestled in the middle with your roommate and another friend she vaguely recognizes, her heart’s soaring and her stomach’s twisting in knots.

Vi’s never nervous, but somehow you bring out the worst of it.

It only takes a few moments, though. The blare of the horn snaps her back into her zone and she leaves all the noise off-rink. In this moment, all she knows is cutting ice, dodging the other team’s most aggressive players and sinking shot after shot.

It’s nearing the end of the second period when she finally glances at the score.

5—4.

The opposing team’s giving them a run for their money and this is probably one of the tightest matches they’ve played all season. She takes a moment to find you in the stands again, and you’re right where she left you, eyes already glued to her as you hover over the edge of your seat.

She hadn’t realized it before, but you’ve got her number painted on her face and another surge of warmth layers over the exertion.

You give her a thumbs up and she feels like lightning.

They reset and she’s off, like a streak of light in the night sky, she’s shuffling the puck towards the goal.

Then you see the navy uniform barreling towards her, voice caught in your throat as Vi gives the puck one last shot before that damned Jersey Number Six shoves her so hard, she’s flinging into the rink’s wall.

The horn chugs, signaling the end of the second period and the stands erupt in a ceremonious cheer as the playback reveals that Vi had sunk the puck before time.

“Fuck yeah!” you cry out, shooting to your feet to clap your hands.

Vi ignores the instigating chants to fight, only really pays attention to your little dance of excitement as she shakes off the other player and rejoins her team for intermission.

“Fuck, Vi, you got it bad, huh?” Abigail Anderson’s spearheading the teasing once they all return to the locker room at the end of the game.

Vi’s body heats at the thought, isn’t really in the business of denying it anymore, because, you know what? Yeah. Vi’s got it so fucking bad for you, she doesn’t even know what to do with herself. You’re her first thought, her final prayer, and everything in between.

So all she does he shrug, can’t help the grin that splits her lips as she rubs her towel through her sweat-damp hair.

She’s the first one out of the locker room, dressed in some sweats and a pullover, towel slung around her neck as she steps into the tunnel. Your contact’s pulled up, and she’s ready to fire off a text asking where you want her to meet you, but she stops short to see you already leaned outside of the change room’s doors.

“Hey, cupcake,” she murmurs, smiling hard when she finds the smudged number 5 still chalked on your face.

“Hi, Violet,” you return shyly, hands clasped behind your back.

She hears the telltale whoosh of the locker room doors, the chattering of her teammates as they poke their heads out into the hall to be nosy, but she’s guiding you along, throwing a wink over her shoulder as the two of you fall into step.

“Thank you for coming,” Vi says after a moment. “You being here really meant a lot to me.”

You don’t know if Vi’s always been this sentimental, but just never given the opportunity to showcase it, or if she’s just buttering you up, but you can’t help but beam at her with pearly teeth and dimpled cheeks.

“God, Violet, you were so good!” you say excitedly, a little skip in your step. “You were in the rink, skating circles around them, like this, and like this.”

She bursts into laughter as you start speeding down the tunnel, dodging garbage bins and jumping up into the air to click your heels.

Something falls out of your little fannypack when you land, and Vi’s crouching down to pick up the tulle baggie to find a little beaded bracelet with a gold clasp that reads puck off.

“What’s this?” Vi asks, and you stop your shenanigans to turn your attention to her.

When your expression falters and you’re running back to her at full speed, she’s holding the baggie up just a little too out of reach for you, grin smug.

“Is this for me, sweetheart?” she asks presumptuously, even though her heart’s thrumming hard in her ribcage.

You’re on your tiptoes, chest pressed against hers, and god, please! is all Vi can think when your head tilts up, a little defeated knit between your eyebrows.

She milks the fuck out of whatever this is, arm banding around your waist as she returns the baggie to you.

“Maybe,” you whisper finally.

“Maybe what?” Vi teases.

“Maybe it’s for you,” you respond, free hand coming to rest on her chest.

“And what do I have to do to get it?” she asks, voice low.

It makes your body jolt hard as a shiver slinks down your spine because there she is, the insufferable flirt who knows exactly what to say to have your brain turn to mush.

You seem like you’re contemplating for a moment and Vi’s breath is hitching in her throat, wondering if you’re willing to play this cat and mouse game with her.

You smile, something glinting in your warm eyes.

“Puck off.”

Your giggle is maniacal as you slip away, leaving her temporarily stunned before she chases you down the tunnel. And she should expect your speed, especially because you’ve got legs, but it takes her a moment to catch up with you when her practice bag’s thumping on her back like that. Her calloused fingers are closing around the flesh of your hips in no time and she’s pulling you back into her arms.

“Cough it up, sweetheart,” she huffs.

You whine.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you counter.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme.”

And you give in because Violet’s made you weak. She’s holding out her wrist as you free the multi-colored bracelet.

You barely clasp the closure in the ring before Violet’s stumbling into you, a big burly girl from the other team shoulder checking the fuck out of her.

“Nice job standing in the middle of the walk way,” she bites.

Violet only snorts a laugh.

“Whatever, good game,” she calls.

Whoever she is, stops, levels Vi with a deadly look before her gaze flits to the bracelet you’ve just fixed around her wrist to you who stands frozen into place as the tension crackles between them.

“Cute,” she observes and your skin prickles. “Let me take her for a spin?”

“Violet,” you warn when her shoulders square and she takes a step forward.

She looks torn between walking away and beating the shit out of whoever this instigator is, but one of her teammates is shoving her along.

“Leave it.”

Whatever that was shatters the moment between the two of you and Vi’s taking in a deep breath as Abby trails behind the two of you.

The girl whistles for good measure and you throw a dirty look over your shoulder.

She winks.

You’ve still yet to find out who hosts these parties, but this time around gives you a weird sense of deja vu as you climb the steps with Maddie in tow.

You and Vi had parted ways at the rink, not before extending you an invite to the celebration later in the evening.

You should come, I can pick you up.

But per usual, DD duties call, and you’d smiled up at her despite the lingering pressure from the prior confrontation and promised her that yes, you’d absolutely be there.

Maddie squeals from the step below as you climb the front porch, breaths coming out in puffs of steam.

“You look so hot,” she says excitedly.

You giggle nervously, sure hope you do because you’re freezing your ass off!

“Yeah?”

Maddie gives you an incredulous look, eyelids powdered with glitter and gaze lined charcoal. She’s looking extra cute tonight too and you know that the two of you could fall into an endless cycle of teasing because a certain someone’s probably inside tonight.

“If she doesn’t fuck you before the night ends, I will,” Maddie teases, and you’re warming unceremoniously at the thought.

Because maybe you’ve been thinking about it a lot more recently despite only going into this trying to get through these tutoring sessions and dipping. Especially as of late now that Vi’s made it a habit to FaceTime you after practice, on your walk to the library, dripping sweat and chest heaving.

You’d always seen the appeal, but now you feel it.

You smooth down your asymmetrical skirt and Maddie steps up to adjust your tits in your lowcut lace blouse just as the door swings open to reveal none other than Violet.

“Oh—” Her voice catches as she takes you in.

Maddie gives your ass a little swat and Vi’s gaze is following the movement as your roommate pushes past her to slip inside.

“I was— I was just about to step out. To, uh, to call you,” she stammers.

You breath out a little laugh.

“Here I am.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Here you are.”

Jesus, fuck Vi could burst into flames right now. Your boots hug your thighs and Violet’s not gonna lie, she really wishes it were her head squeezed between—

“You look...” Hot, so fucking edible, downright fuck— “...really nice.”

You smile, but you can’t help the way your teeth chatters.

“Fuck, shit, you’re probably cold,” she curses, warm hands closing around your shoulders to pull you inside. “Why didn’t you wear a jacket? You’re gonna get sick.”

I wanted you to want me.

“Guess I just forgot,” you say quietly.

She looks like she wants to scold you, but instead, she’s pulling down her coat, a big black work jacket, hanging from the banister of the stairs around your shoulders and you’re relishing the residual warmth that lingers there and her familiar scent.

“Can I get you a cider?” she asks. “It’s still warm.”

It hits you as her fingers curl through yours, that Vi’s truly nothing like what you initially thought. She’s sweet, and she’s respectful, and she’s everything you could ever hope for.

You freeze at the thought, and Vi’s glancing at you when she’s tugged to a stop.

“You okay?” she hums.

Your eyes search her face, gliding over the scar on her lip and the one slit through her eyebrow. The gold hoop pierced through her nose glints under the lowlight and her thick lashes flutter as she looks down at you.

You give her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes because wow, you’re in deep.

“I’m okay,” you assure her, give her fingers a squeeze for good measure.

When she finally secures you a mug of steaming cider, she’s guiding you to her group of friends that occupy the living room.

You only recognize Ellie, her best friend and her roommate, and Abby, the captain. Everyone else is a jumbled mix of names and faces and you stick close to Vi as she settles into the left corner of the couch.

You make a move to sit on the armrest, legs crossed and hands folded around your mug, but Vi’s spreading her legs and pulling you into her lap before you can effectively protest.

Her warmth immediately engulfs you and it takes every ounce of self control not to curl up into a ball in front of all her friends and classmates.

As they recap the game and catch up with each other, you remain hushed, eyes flitting from person to person as they speak. Toes curling whenever Violet’s voice vibrates in her chest as she talks big about sports and the hot teams this season.

You’re caught off caught when Ellie’s directing a question towards you and you barely register.

“What do you like to do?” she asks you.

All eyes audibly shift to where you’re cozied up in Vi’s lap, cider empty and abandoned on the side table.

“Uh.”

Your words are lodged in your throat because you’re so used to talking Vi’s ear off about your interests (namely, Animal Planet and your son Pip), showing her your little craft projects you like to do in front of the television on a weekend evening (you’d taken a break from the scarf / hat combo you were knitting to finish the bracelet you designed for Vi), and yapping about some obscure film you’d watched while finishing said projects.

But here, now, you don’t know what to say. Not when this isn’t your typical crowd and you don’t know what to expect from her friends.

Vi must feel your hesitation because her digits are slipping into her jacket, fingertips ghosting the small of your back as she presses a palm against your spine to smooth the tension there.

It’s okay, is a silent insinuation.

You give her a look from the corner of your eye before you turn your attention back to Ellie.

“I don’t do much,” you offer honestly. “Just starting my old cat lady duties early, I suppose.”

Ellie laughs benevolently.

“You have a cat?”

“Yes, his name’s Pip, and he’s basically my kid.”

“Cute,” Ellie coos. “You got any pictures?”

And you seem to light up, spare Vi one more glance as you dig in her coat pocket to produce your cellphone, charms jangling as you power it back on to show Ellie the lockscreen.

“I contemplated naming him Toothless from—”

“—How To Train Your Dragon!” Abby fills in from across the couch. “That’s such a good ass movie.”

It warms Vi to the bone, seeing you and her friends nerd out. Seeing them put in the effort because they know she likes you and seeing you reciprocate because, well, you’re you, and you just need a little warming up.

She doesn’t know how long you and her friends chat for until you’re shifting a little and turning your attention back to her.

“Can you show me the bathroom, please?”

Her gaze flits to her circle, and they’re smirking, obviously under the impression that this must be some sort of code the two of you concocted.

She ignores them, and most importantly she ignores the way her pulse jumps when you stand from your seat and perch between her legs, offering both of your neatly manicured hands to her.

This is getting fucking ridiculous.

The bathroom is tucked under the stairs near the front of the house and she stands post outside the door as you finish up.

It’s only when you’re poking your head outside the door sheepishly that she stands up straight.

“Can you help me with my zipper?” you ask timidly.

She puffs a laugh, slips in through the space you crack for her to find you holding the two sides of your skirt together.

And she knows she shouldn’t look, but the space allows her to see the pink lace of your panties. She’s shoving her tongue in her cheek, focusing on lining up the seams and pulling up your zipper as you hold the fabric taut.

“Thanks,” you whisper, looking up to see that Vi’s impossibly close to you in this cramped little powder room.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” she croaks, leaning against the counter as you wash your hands.

She thumbs the hem of your skirt absently.

“I like this,” she admits, gaze trailing up to meet yours. “You look pretty.”

Your ears burn, unable to meet the smolder of her steely eyes. You’d probably find that her pupils are blown wide if you did. Instead, you’re watching her mouth, lips stained cherry and tongue coming out to wet the dry patch.

You hold your breath as you reach across her for the hand towel, but her hands find your hips, teetering into dangerous territory as she moves almost close enough to slip her hands under your skirt.

“You’re not gonna say thank you?” she asks, watching you through hooded eyes.

A nervous giggle bubbles.

“Thanks, Violet,” you murmur.

“‘Course,” she agrees easily. “You gonna wear it again?”

You bite.

“If you ask nicely.”

She licks her lips again, body flexed as you allow her to press you closer. One of your hands splays on the counter behind her, the other brushing over the blooming bruise on her jaw.

“Can I?” she husks.

You don’t need to ask for clarification, not when her nose is nudging yours and your breaths are mingling.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Pl—”

The door rattles with the ferocity of whoever’s knocking on the other side.

“Hurry up in there, I gotta piss!”

To your dismay, the two of you don’t talk about Saturday night. And things’s aren’t particularly bad, but something’s definitely shifted and it’s driving you nuts.

Vi’s on the ice practicing the following morning and after classes on Monday, so you wait for your session with bated breath on Tuesday. You try extra hard despite every voice of reason telling you that you’re reading into it too much.

Vi smiles at you easily as she drops into the seat across from you, pulling out her biometry textbook without so much as a peep about the fact that the two of you almost kissed in whoever the fuck’s bathroom that was over the weekend.

You’re staring, hard.

Because that familiar feeling’s coming back. The seedling of doubt that had rooted in the beginning about Vi’s intentions with you. She’d done a good job of weeding it out over the weeks, of dismantling whatever image you’d built of her in your head, but it plants itself again.

She’s squeezing your hand across the table and your gaze flits down to her rough fingers. That’s when you notice it, the bracelet, still fastened where you clasped it on game night.

You relax a fraction.

“Everything okay?”

You smile, something small.

“Yeah, good,” you assure her.

The rest of your tutoring session is uneventful, goes off without a hitch. And you’re shameless in admitting that you hate to see her go as she walks you to your car in the student lot near the library.

You’re grasping at straws, clearing your throat before she closes your door for you.

“Uh,” you squeak. “Do you want to come over?”

Vi’s pausing, hand still on the edge of your door as her lips twitch.

“Like right now?”

You nod because you’ve already pulled the trigger.

“Like right now,” you confirm.

She checks her wristwatch, sighs heavily because fuck yes, she’d love to come over right now, but Anderson and Williams are expecting her for a strategy meeting with the coach and—

“Sorry,” you say quickly. “You don’t have to, I know we only really—”

She pinches your cheek before tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

“I can’t tonight, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” she says. “But tell you what, if you’re willing to free up your Friday night, I’d really like to plan something.”

Your heartbeat skips.

“All yours,” you say without missing a beat.

Vi’s grinning wide.

“Perfect, drive safe,” she bids. “See you tomorrow.”

And you don’t know why you’re so fucking high strung, not when Vi hasn’t done anything to make you doubt that this isn’t all in your head, but it only gets worse as the days go by.

It doesn’t come to a head until Thursday, when your tutoring slots are miraculously empty until Vi’s and you receive an email from Medarda to meet in her office after her string of lectures.

“Afternoon,” the older woman greets, smiling warmly at you as she lets you into her office. “Just wanted to check in with your audit and request any feedback you have.”

You think for a moment before shaking your head.

“Nothing in particular that I can think of,” you say easily, then add with a laugh, “feel like I’ll be a professional by the end of the semester.”

“Why do you say that?” Medarda chuckles as she logs into her computer.

“I have a student sitting every Tuesday and Thursday for tutoring in your class,” you reveal.

She gives you look crossed between surprise and amusement.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You giggle at the distant memory of Vi’s expression in the weight room. “She seems to be picking it up well enough, though.”

“Huh, every Tuesday and Thursday?” she asks, fingers flying over her keyboard. “I must be doing something wrong.”

“I’d hardly say that,” you say. “When Violet booked all my sessions, I thought it was a joke, but I think she’s just really dedicated to doing well.”

“Violet?” Medarda repeats, hands stilling over her mouse.

“Yeah, Violet, on the women’s hockey team?”

Your professor’s eyebrows twitch.

“Why would you— huh. Weird,” she comments.

“I admit it was a little strange, but—”

“Violet’s a consistent top scorer on the exams,” Medarda shares. “She’s been top of the class since the beginning of the semester.”

And it’s like the world stills as she reveals that information, fragile pieces shattering as the gears start turning in your brain and you try to put the puzzle together.

You glance at the clock, find that you’re due to meet Violet in half an hour.

“Uh, if you’ll excuse me,” you say politely, try to ignore the concerned expression etched on your professor’s face at your sudden departure. “It was nice chatting with you. If I think of anything feedback-wise, I’ll be sure to email you.”

And you’re running.

Vi’s in the locker room after practice, toweling off after an extra long shower because she’s been looking a little extra forward to seeing you today, but perhaps that’s everyday as of late.

She’s hooking the bracelet you gave her back on when her phone vibrates and she’s practically diving into her locker when your text tone bleats.

sweetheart: I have to cancel your session this afternoon. I’m sorry.

Her expression screws up.

everything ok? can i do anything for you?

sweetheart: Personal things to take care of. I’ll see you next week.

I’ll see you next week.

But what about tomorrow? She’d been working so fucking hard on tomorrow, on finally pulling her head far enough out of her ass to ask you to give the two of you a shot.

She sets her phone down, slumps down on the bench as she turns her wrist and takes in the smooth glass beads of the bracelet.

She sighs. Hard.

You hole up all weekend long, put your phone on do not disturb, and try your best to get whatever this is out of your system. But you’re a slave to your emotions and you can’t help but check your messages every time you know Vi’s free.

It’s a single text on a Saturday night, one that surprises you because you know she has practice now that the big game’s fast approaching.

violet <3: hey sweetheart, just checking in. i know you said you had a few personal things going on, but i’m here if you feel like you need someone <3

You’re texting back before your better judgement can stop you.

Just been a little stressed. You wanna come over?

.

.

.

Then you add, We can smoke.

Vi’s sending you three running emojis and you crack a smile at your screen before realizing that you need to shower.

You lay out some clothes beforehand, ultimately settling on last Saturday’s skirt.

Vi’s giggling as you fumble with the wrapper, rolling it with clumsy fingers because, truthfully, you don’t do this often, but she shuts right up when you don’t break eye contact as the tip of your tongue slides across the seam to seal the joint.

She’d picked you up with a Sprite and a slice to split from Valentino’s, throat drying as you bounded down the stairs in the same fucking skirt that had her touching herself after she’d gotten home from the party, guilty and wound tight. Now the two of you are tucked away behind some abandoned strip.

“Ready?” Her voice rasps as you pop the end between your lips and she brings the lighter to ignite the end for you.

It burns as you inhale and Vi’s thighs squeeze together involuntarily. She’d smoked with you twice before, both times on the roof of your apartment building and at a reasonable distance. But now, she knows what your body feels like, almost knows what your lips taste like.

You take a few more puffs before offering it to her and the smoke begins to plume to fill the space of her little coupe. It’s moments like these, tucked away from prying eyes, that it’s just you and Vi.

Not Vi, the supposed womanizing hockey star, or you, the nerdy homebody tutor. Just the two of you, two souls trying to get through university and carve your paths.

“I aced Medarda’s exam this week,” Vi says softly, jay pinched between her fingers as she watches you with lowering eyes.

“Oh, yeah? I wonder why,” you quip in return, face impossibly close to hers despite the console between you.

“I have a smartypants tutor that does an especially good job when she’s motivated,” she answers.

Your cheeks flame, but you don’t back down. Vi’s been extra good at pushing your buttons and flirting hard as of late, and maybe you’re a little more than willing to receive and reciprocate, but the two of you have been toeing the line, yet neither of you have taken the leap.

This moment, however, feels like it could be it. Like you’re going to find out what the fuck all of this even is.

“I have to meet this tutor of yours,” you play along. “She sounds like a miracle worker.”

“Among other things,” Vi teases, sucking in the smoke and blowing it through her nostrils.

“Like?”

“She’s also funny as fuck,” she hums. “A big baby when we watch Animal Planet.”

You narrow your eyes at her and Vi lets out a little laugh that makes your toes curl.

“Uh-huh?”

“She’s really fucking pretty too,” she says quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she affirms. “Kind of pretty that makes you wanna do bad, bad things.”

You smile falters as a shiver rips down your spine and before you know it, Vi’s putting out the joint before climbing in the cramped backseat of her car to spread her legs.

Doesn’t even give you a moment to process before she’s pulling you on top of her and allowing you to settle comfortably in her lap. Her hands run up your thighs and disappear under your skirt to grab the fat of your ass.

You breathe out a little giggle as your slender fingers come up to cup her jaw.

“Think my tutor’ll be mad at me?” Vi murmurs, nose brushing yours. “‘Cuz I really, really wanna kiss this pretty girl in my lap right now.”

You let out a broken little sigh when her hips buck.

“Maybe she’ll forgive you,” you whisper. “I know I would.”

And that’s all the affirmation Vi needs from you before she’s taking the plunge and slotting her lips with yours; kissing you with so much fervor, you’d think she needs you to breathe. She tastes like mint and weed and you can’t get enough.

Vi’s all-consuming, her kiss a delicious mix of teeth and tongue. And, god, her hands. Rough and calloused, but gentle in the way she explores your body. It isn’t until she’s snapping the band of your thong and her fingertips ghost the seam of your sticky heat that you’re hyper-focusing.

“Mmmph, Violet, Vi—” Your voice cracks as she breaks from your lips to map a series of kisses from your jaw, to the juncture behind your ear, down the column of your neck. “Wait.”

She stops, hands pulling from under your skirt like you’ve burned her. And perhaps you have, branded nearly every part of her because she can’t really think of a sound moment if you’re not there.

“Sorry, sorry,” she shudders as the arousal ebbs through her tightened body. “I—”

I’m caught up. I’m losing it, and it’s all your fault, and—

“Violet,” you swallow, fingers toying with the collar of her varsity sweatshirt. “I have something to say.”

Her throat bobs and her grey eyes gleam like ash in the lowlight of the backseat of her car. The windows are smoked out and it’s exceptionally warm, equal parts sexual tension and another thing Vi can’t quite pinpoint.

“Yeah, anything,” she assures you, hands resting on your waist instead. “You can tell me anything.”

One of your palms settles over her chest, right where her heart is and you suck in a sharp breath.

“I— uh, I really like you, Violet,” you admit quietly. “A lot more than I think I’ve ever liked someone in a long, long time.”

Oh.

Oh. Here it comes, the big fat rejection. The coming to your senses.

“But?”

The look on your face is devastating and Vi’s scared.

“I have to know that if I give you a chance, you won’t abuse it,” you hiccup, and wow, that’s definitely not what she expects you to say, but fuck does it leave a sour taste in her mouth.

“Abuse it?” she repeats, face crumpling.

“Violet,” you sigh.

“Abuse what?” she husks.

“I know you—”

“Do you?” she scoffs, a wave of irritation washing over her as she looks you with disappointment. “What gave you the idea that I would ever even dream of taking advantage of you giving me a chance?”

“You don’t necessarily have a spotless record, Violet,” you say, voice edged. “And I know that I’m not your usual—”

“Not my usual what?” The venom in Vi’s tone is uncharacteristic, but this is not at all how she expected tonight to go and she’s frustrated. “Not my usual type? You internalized all this shit that people say about me even though I’ve been trying to get you to see me for months.”

Emotion clogs your throat because a small part of you knows that Vi’s right. She’s never given you an outright reason to doubt her interest in you, but it all just seems too good to be true.

“Sue me for wanting to protect myself,” you choke, climbing out of her lap and back into the front seat. “Especially because I know that you don’t actually need help in Medarda’s class.”

And that catches Vi off guard. You see as much in the rearview mirror when she pales.

She clambers back into the driver’s seat.

“Who told you that?” she asks, not even bothering to deny the fact.

“I mentioned that I was tutoring you in passing when Medarda asked for feedback on her class,” you respond, crossing your arms over your chest. “She asked why I’d be doing that when you’re top of all her sections.”

Violet’s voice is stuck in her chest.

“And then your past hook ups parade around campus like a reminder that—,” you cut yourself off, obviously hurt after bottling this all up. “And it isn’t any of my business, nor are we anything enough for me to plausibly upset—”

“Yes, I lied,” Vi admits quietly. “But only about one thing.”

Your breath catches.

“You’re right, I don’t need help in Medarda’s class. I lied about being clueless and I signed up for tutoring even though I didn’t need it,” she says.

“Why?”

“You know why,” Vi huffs. “From the moment I met you, I knew.”

It’s a glaring insinuation that makes you crack.

“No one ever says it out loud, but I know what everyone thinks,” you choke. “Violet’s fucking that loser?”

“You really believe that?”

“God, Violet, I don’t know what to fucking believe,” you cry out. “My life’s fucking fine and dandy and then you show up and make me fucking question everything I—”

Vi lets out a humorless laugh, can’t even look at you and it could make you sick.

“You’re so fucking loved by everyone, even those who won’t admit it,” you croak. “And you’re incredible at everything you do, turn everything you touch to gold, and I’m just...”

Vi’s brows furrow.

“You’re what?”

“I’m me,” you whisper meekly. “I’m just me and you’re you, and I just don’t see what makes me so different.”

And Vi realizes that she’d read it all wrong.

“Look at me,” she says softly, fingers tracing your jaw.

You knuckle your tears away, make a petulant noise in your throat.

“You wanna know why I booked all your stupid tutoring sessions?” she huffs. “Because I really fucking like you, ________. And it’s beyond wanting to fuck you even though god knows I’d fucking die if you let me. It’s so much more than having you physically. Because I’ll take being just friends with you if it means having you around. I don’t give a shit about anything else but you.”

It’s the most sound declaration you hear from the girl in the semester you’ve known her and it makes you cry.

“You make me feel so fucking normal and you remind me that I don’t need to be anything else but me,” she breathes. “And I get where you’re coming from, I hear you. I just really hope you hear me too.”

“I do,” you whisper. “I’m just—”

Vi squeezes your thigh, takes your hand in hers and brings your knuckles to her lips.

“Let’s get you home, okay?” she offers gently.

Vi only has one more game before the championships and she won’t lie and say that this limbo with you has her feeling like she’s going to be ill.

You’d cancelled her tutoring sessions this week, told her that maybe the two of you needed to spend some time apart and that she was clearly doing a number on you. So she agrees, tries to give you space to work through what’s weighing on you.

sweetheart: Good luck at your game tonight, Violet. I’m rooting for you.

She really wishes you’d be there, but she knows you need the time alone.

thanks, sweetheart. i appreciate you.

“Alright Vi, we have fifteen til puck drop,” Ellie says carefully, has been front row to everything transpiring between you and her best friend.

Vi tucks her phone away in her backpack, unhooks your bracelet from around her wrist and fastens it to the handle of her bag, and grabs her stick from the rack before she lets her teammates jostle her into the tunnel.

And she wishes she could lock in, clear her head and get into the game, but all she can think about is you.

It’s a narrow victory once the game ends, but she can’t find it in herself to celebrate, especially not at the kickback afterwards because fucking Sev and her assholes are there.

“Where’s your little dime piece?” she taunts.

“Fuck off,” Vi warns, obviously not in the mood.

“Shame,” she whistles. “She looks like a fucking weirdo, but she sure does have a fat ass—”

Ellie’s fist cracks so hard across her jaw.

“She told you to fuck off,” she hisses.

Sev spits the blood in her mouth on the toe of Ellie’s shoe, fists bunching the collar of her sweater.

“Keep that fucking energy on the ice because I’m gonna wipe the floor with your fucking pissbaby team.”

You wake up on Monday morning to a text from Vi and a handful of notifications from Instagram.

violet <3: can i see you this week?

You open Instagram.

sev.94 has requested to follow you! sev.94 has sent you a message request!

Your brows furrow, opening the message request hesitantly. There’s a few DMs and a video from this Sev person.

sev.94 hey pretty, sorry to text you like this. sev.94 just thought you should know the kind of person your little girlfriend is sev.94 sent a video. sev.94 i don’t really do relationships, but i’d take your mind off of it if you let me.

You’re playing the video, quality grainy and audio blasted. You don’t know what you’re looking at at first, it’s dark, and there’s so many voices. But you see skin, see the outline of a girl’s naked back, delicate and arched in pleasure.

You think this Sev person’s just fucking with you, playing some stupid joke with a shitty punchline as someone’s hands snake around to palm the flesh of the unnamed girl’s ass, but then you see it.

The bracelet.

Vi going to lose her shit for two reasons.

(1) Because you haven’t responded to her message despite your read receipts being on, and (2) she can’t fucking find the bracelet you’d gifted to her.

She’s barging into Ellie’s room, shirtless and hair dripping.

“Jesus, fuck, do you knock?” Ellie hisses, buds she was in the midst of grinding scattering across the floor.

“I can’t find the bracelet she gave me,” Vi says quickly.

Ellie’s face scrunches.

“Huh?”

“The bracelet ________ gave to me,” Vi says. “I hooked it on my backpack before practice on Saturday but it’s not there anymore.”

Ellie’s expression morphs, eyes narrowing in thought.

“Maybe you misplaced it,” Ellie offers. “Regardless, we practice tonight, I’ll help you look for it.”

Vi’s chest is tight, doesn’t want to admit that the stupid little bracelet means way more to her than she lets on. She only ever takes it off when she’s on the ice, won’t risk losing it when she’s got a target on her back and everyone plays rough.

It turns out to be futile when they enter the rink and she retraces her steps only to come up empty-handed.

This, she realizes, is the start of a very long week.

You should’ve seen it coming, really. Don’t know why you tried to psyche yourself into thinking that Vi could ever really want something with you when the world’s her fucking oyster and she can have anything she wants.

And you want to feel bad when she texts you intermittently through the days, checking in, offering to meet you, anything. But part of you is angry, unforgiving, tired.

You could’ve gone the rest of the school year unscathed if she’d just left you the fuck alone, but she pried and she tugged and she settled, and she made a home inside of you and you hate that you let her.

xxxx: i really miss you.

You block her number, block her social media, and even though finals are imminent, you now know that Vi’s been playing you for a fool this whole time and you cancel every last one of the sessions she’s booked.

You hope she’d get the message, figure that you’d caught onto her little game and aren’t willing to play anymore, but she doesn’t, that much is clear when you’re finishing up your two thirty session and find her stalking into the library just as the student leaves your table.

“Are we going to talk like adults or are you going to keep acting like—”

You don’t entertain a response, just pack your bag and sling the strap over your shoulder because the tears are bubbling and you don’t trust yourself not to break.

“Seriously?” Vi bites, hot on your heels as you throw all of your weight against the library doors and suck in the icy air.

“Leave me alone, Violet,” you warn.

“No, fuck that,” Vi spits, hand closing around your bicep. “You don’t— You don’t get to make me fall for you and then try to leave with no explanation.”

“Fuck you,” you whisper.

“What?”

“Fuck you, Violet,” you hiccup, yanking your arm from her grasp and putting as much distance as you can between the two of you. “I hope you and your friends got a good laugh out of it.”

Her face is screwing up and if she wasn’t confused before, she’s definitely confused now.

“Listen, I can’t fix something if I don’t know what’s wrong,” Vi argues. “I’m so fucking lost right now.”

You hate how believable she is. How the thought of hurting you seems so inconceivable to her. But that grainy video was clear enough.

“I hate you,” you murmur. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”

Your name comes out broken, like you’ve wounded her. But you’ve officially folded your hand, won’t dare look her in her eyes because the both of you know it’s not true.

The championships roll in fast like a tide and neither your or Violet are ready for it.

You hear they’re live streaming the game, it’s the most anticipated one in the season. Piltover Stallions against the Zaun City Tigers. A part of you wishes you could support them, but then you’re starkly reminded that you’re a laughingstock amongst them.

The library on a Friday night is as quiet as can be, the hum of the fluorescents background to the voices in your head that are loud. You’re so engrossed in the study material that you don’t realize someone’s making a beeline for you until they’re knocking on the tabletop.

Ellie Williams stands before you in all her lean glory, hands sunk in her pockets as she stares down at you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be playing?” Your tone is clipped, disinterested because you believed that you and Ellie could be friends once upon a time.

“Coach sat me out because I socked one of those dickhead Zaun City Tigers in the mouth last weekend.”

You humph.

“Listen, we don’t have much time left, so I’m going to make this short and sweet,” she says. “Whatever happened between you and Vi is obviously personal and that typically would have nothing to do with me, but she can’t get her shit together because all she can think of is you.”

“And that’s my problem because...?”

“I know that Vi comes off a certain way, but she’s my best friend, like my best friend in this entire shithole of a world, and she’s—”

“No offense, Ellie,” you cut her off. “But if Vi sent you here to plead her case, I think that’s pathetic and—”

“Okay, well maybe if you shut up for three seconds and let me get to my point—”

You close your textbook and shove it in your backpack before standing to signal the end of the conversation.

“Whatever, I don’t have time for this.”

Ellie watches you walk away, takes in a deep breath because wow, you’re a bitch when you’re mad, but she absolutely gets why Vi is whipped.

“Violet’s in love with you.”

And that statement makes you freeze. Tears cloud your vision as your fists tighten around the strap of your bag.

“If you fuck someone else while you’re in love, I want nothing to do with it,” you bite.

Ellie’s brows shoot up.

“Whoa, what?”

“Violet fucked someone else as soon as things got tough, and if that’s the kind of person she is in love, I’d rather be alone,” you say stiffly.

“Respectfully, there’s no way Vi’s interested in getting pussy from anywhere else with how down bad that bitch is for you, but even if she was, I spend over seventy percent of my day with her and know that all she’s been doing the past two weeks is moping over the fact that you handed her ass to her on a silver platter.”

“There’s a video.”

Ellie’s brows must be mingling with her hairline right about now.

Her reaches a palm out.

Show me.

You open the DM from sev.94, watching as Ellie’s expression morphs from morbid curiosity to disbelief, to a quiet rage.

She’s handing your phone back to you and grabbing you by your forearm.

“She’s fucking dead.”

When you enter the rink, the ice is tense.

It’s the middle of the second period and the game is tied 3—3.

Your eyes comb the playing area, can’t find Vi’s jersey number in the mix, but finally settle on her on the bench, shoulders terse and obviously on edge.

She doesn’t clock you yet, had given up on the idea of patching things up with you after your last conversation.

“Vi’s been missing her bracelet since practice on Saturday,” Ellie’d told you on the way there, then pulled out her phone to show you the photo she’d taken of Vi passed out in nothing but her boxers on the couch the night of the last game, fucked up and sad. “We went out for like an hour after the game, but that was it. Vi was too fucking in her head.”

The girl from the tunnel, the one who’d been taunting the two of you, you piece together, has been the one behind it all, stirring the pot.

Throughout the end of the second period and all through intermission, Vi doesn’t notice you, too busy trying to get off the fucking bench to survey the crowd.

It’s only during final puck drop in the third period that their coach finally gives in, smacks the back of her helmet and tells her to make him proud that she lifts her head up.

And there, front and center of the student section is you.

Her eyes are wide, body frozen in place as she tries to figure if you’re just a figment of her imagination, but then the horn’s blaring and she’s having to zone back in.

At this point in time, she doesn’t give a fuck if they win or lose, she just needs to get to you.

“Your little bitch looks cute tonight,” Sevika comments wolfishly. “Bet she tastes as good as she looks.”

Vi easily intercepts her pass, cuts between two players as she shuffles it along with practiced precision. She sends the rubber flying and the goalie narrowly misses block.

“Maybe if you played as good as you ran your mouth, you’d wipe the floor with my pissbaby team you big bitch,” Vi calls, resetting in their corner.

And perhaps you’re her good luck charm, the only thing she needed to see to get back into it, because Vi reignites. The adrenaline pumping through her veins fuels every shot, and soon the timer’s buzzing.

7—5.

The roar is deafening, but you’re all she sees in the ocean of cowbells and pompoms.

She barely inches forward before something arcs through the sky and lands before her feet.

Her bracelet.

You watch from the sidelines, the final confirmation as Vi picks up the loop and launches herself at Sevika.

The crowd cheers.

Fight, fight fight!

You don’t know how many swings Vi gets in, just know that she’s flashing you a bloody smile before she skates off the ice.

Ellie emerges from the locker room and you’re perking up.

Most, if not all, of Vi’s teammates had come and gone and you’d been waiting patiently, anxiously, for her to emerge since the end of the game nearly an hour ago.

“She’s the last one in there,” is all Ellie says before strolling off.

“What if...what if she doesn’t want to see me?” you ask hesitantly.

Ellie chuffs a little laugh, doesn’t bother turning as she calls from halfway down the hall, “Find out for yourself, sweetheart.”

Vi’s pulling a tank top over her head as soon as you enter and your cheeks bloom when you catch a split-second of her tits.

She glances up at you, nose bruising and lip busted.

“Hey,” she spares you, stuffing her uniform and skates into her gym bag.

“Hi,” you squeak.

A pregnant pause as you take her in, hesitant to close the distance between the two of you.

“Didn’t think you’d make it,” she observes.

And you don’t really have a bullshit response, know that you had every intention of staying as far away as humanly possible, so you settle on humming your agreement.

“Ellie told me,” she starts. “Why you lashed out on me.”

You swallow.

“And part of me gets it, I really do,” she continues, “but I also thought you had more faith in me than that.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Fuck, Violet, I’m so sorry.”

“I told you to free up Friday night a few weeks ago,” she says, shuts her locker door and slumps down on the bench behind her. “I was going to tell you everything, officially ask you out, but then all that shit happened and it caught up to me.”

You take a step forward, and then another, and another until you’re standing in front of her.

“You have to know that I would never do something like to anyone, but especially not to you,” she says softly, taking your hands in hers.

“I know.”

She brushes her lips against your knuckles, pulls you in closer so that you’re standing between her legs.

“You’re right,” she continues, voice hoarse. “I don’t have a spotless track record, but I meant it when I said that I don’t give a shit about anyone else but you. I would give you anything I can if you let me.”

Your hands rest on her shoulders, her chin resting against the plush of your belly as you look down at her, speechless.

“That night, in the car, you said that you didn’t see what made you so different.”

“I don’t,” you admit.

Vi stands, caging you between strong arms as she drops her face into the hollow of your neck. You shiver when you feel her lips press to the skin there.

“We could start off with the obvious.”

One of her hands rests on the small of your back, pulls you flush so that the only things that separate you are the flimsy fabrics of your clothes. The other grabs a handful of your ass.

“I meant it when I said that you’re the kind of pretty that makes me wanna do bad things.”

You gulp, thighs squeezing as her lips part and she bites.

“Vi.”

“You got a giant brain,” she laughs breathily, fingers coming around the fiddle with your belt.

She kisses you, mouth hot and breath warm. It’s better the second time around, no doubt obscuring you from truly indulging.

“Pl—ease.”

“You’re kind and you’re selfless, and you’re my sweet, sweet little crybaby.”

“Violet,” you sigh breathlessly. “Listen to me.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Fuck me,” you pant. “Please.”

Violet nearly runs two red lights and whips into your neighborhood on two wheels.

The two of you are stumbling up the stairs and she’s spanking your ass on the last step as you fiddle with your keys and try to find the right one under the dim light of the complex hall.

Violet’s already unbuckling her belt as you turn the key, nearly taking you down as she shoves you inside and up against the front door.

“Maddie home?” she breathes.

“Out of town,” you answer quickly, kicking off your sneakers and pulling your sweater over your head. “Visiting her family upstate.”

“Perfect,” Vi hums. “I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you on your couch.”

“Oh–”

One of her rough hands comes to cup your tit over your bra, her tongue laving over the other while her free hand makes work of the clasp.

You walk her back to the couch, stand between her knees as she flops back into the seat. Her arms spread over the back as she settles in, legs widening to give you ample room to strip.

Her eyes never leave yours as you easily unclasp your bra and shimmy out of your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a tight pair of little lace panties and pink socks that has Vi wet.

“C’mere,” she rasps, pulling you to straddle her lap.

Her lips immediately latch onto one of your pebbled nipples, tongue hot as her hands wander.

“Fuck.”

“Tell me what you want,” she husks, biting down on the swell of your breast.

And having Violet this close, her touch excruciatingly featherlight and tempting, you wind tight.

“Want you inside of me,” you whimper, fingers fixing around her throat. “Please.”

“Yeah?” she eggs you on, lips brushing yours as her palms settle on your ass. “You want me to fuck you?”

You nod eagerly, hips rolling in her lap as her breath pitches.

“Vi.”

Her nickname puffing from your lips makes her crack. You’re wound in her arms, face in her neck as she peels your thong taut, away from your waiting cunt, and runs her fingertips from your slit down to your clit.

“F...F—uck,” you sigh.

“Holy shit,” she marvels, licking her lips when she easily glides through your folds. “You’re really fucking wet.”

You grind down against her, clothed clit catching against her belt buckle. The cool metal sends a jolt through your pussy and you’re moaning loud in her ear.

And Violet really wants to take her time with you, wants to milk the first time she ever gets to fuck you for as long as she humanly can, but she’s still fully dressed and you’re practically naked, perfect tits pressed to her chest and fat ass in the palm of her hand.

She shifts you further into her, so that she can peek over the arch of your back as she sinks her middle and ring finger three knuckles deep into your needy heat.

“Ah, fuck, Violet.” Your voice breaks as she starts pumping into you, your arousal coating her fingers and the sound of her easily slipping through your pussy reverberating through the living room. “Fuckfuckfuck.”

She kisses your jaw, litters them until she’s catching your lips and licking crudely into your mouth.

You cry out when her fingers slip out.

She’s leaning the both of you forward, easing you from her lap and onto the couch as she takes a moment to shuck her shirt off and pull her belt through the loops in one tug.

You watch her through it all, the way the trim muscles of her biceps and shoulders flex as she leans over you, takes you by the ankles and yanks you until your ass is half-hanging from the edge of the couch.

She kneels before you, strips you out of your thong.

You don’t miss the way she shoves the soiled fabric in her jeans pocket.

“Jesus,” she breathes, gaze fluttering between your eyes and your pussy. “You’re so fucking pretty, sweetheart.”

Your toes curl at the praise, fingers closing around where Vi’s holding your legs apart.

“You know how bad I’ve been wanting to taste your pussy?” she rasps, gathering the lewdest amount of spit to dribble onto your clit. When you don’t answer, she’s freeing a hand to slap your slit.

“Nnngh, fuck!”

“Think I’ve always wanted to have you,” she admits. “But it was that stupid party fucking party and that stupid fucking skirt. God, I would’ve fucked you in that skirt if you let me.”

“Yeah?” you whine breathlessly. “Tell me.”

She’s stuffing you again without warning, curling her fingers in a way that has your back arching off the couch.

“Would’ve bent you over that sink and made you watch yourself while I ate you out,” she says easily.

And it’s so fucking delicious, the nasty shit Vi’s saying to you while she pounds your aching heat; the way she finally gives in and tastes you, sucking on your clit like she’s starved and you’re the only thing that can sate her hunger.

Your fingers curl through her hair as you teeter dangerously over the edge, nails grazing her scalp and tugging when she hits the spot deep inside of you that has you keening for more.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum,” you choke. “Holy fuck.”

You feel Vi grin against your pussy, watch her with a slack jaw and half-lidded eyes because the sight of her between your legs in your moonlit living room has your insides twisting hard.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” she encourages you. “Cum all over my fingers. Wanna see you gush.”

“Hah, h—” Your thighs tighten around her head, fingers curled so hard in her hair, she moans in a mix of pleasure and pain. “Don’t stop, Vi, please.”

She moans into your cunt, savoring the heady taste of you as you practically ride her face.

The sound that fills the room is downright filthy, the sight that Vi beholds when she peeks from where she’s devouring you equally so. It’s picturesque, the way she has you writhing. A sheen of perspiration glistens over your flesh as she eats you out and it’s a perfect mix of her tongue and her fingers that send you soaring over the edge.

It’s a pitched whine that echos, the staccato of your shaky breathing that sings like music in her ears as you cum. And hard.

Her lashes flutter against the skin of your inner thighs as she peppers kisses there, her lips slick with spit and arousal.

“Fuck, babe,” she whispers. “That was...”

She can’t really choose a specific word, is just mind blown at the fact that she’d just made you cum so hard and so fast. It makes her tense and tingle, a smug wave of pride washing over her as she starts mouthing a trail from your belly, between the valley of your tits, up your throat, to finally press a chaste one on your lips.

You taste yourself first and foremost, but then you taste everything she’s ever wanted to say to you, all the unspoken words and the things she’d been too scared to share. Feel it in the way her hands are roaming, squeezing, caressing.

You breathe a disbelieving laugh, peck her lips again when she pulls away to brush your hair from your face.

“Vi—” Your breath hitches and your eyes glaze.

“I know, I know.”

You wrap your arms around her shoulders, legs hooking around the narrow of her waist as she bears your weight and picks up your boneless figure.

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.”

The sun is warm against your skin when you wake up the following morning, your bedroom bathed in an orange glow.

You feel bone tired, body sore and muscles tight as your arm sweeps the other side of the bed in search of balmy skin, but instead you’re met with cool sheets and swelling dread.

You sit up quickly, find that you’re still naked, and take a moment to asses your bedroom. The bathroom door’s cracked, light off, and everything else is exactly where you left it.

Everything except Vi.

Oh, you think to yourself.

Almost don’t want to leave your room because your empty apartment will be confirmation enough that Vi really did get the last laugh in the end.

But you force yourself out of bed, shrug on an oversized t-shirt before finding the living room just as still as it had been before the two of you had barreled in the night before and she’d left her mark on you.

The only sign that the entire thing wasn’t just a figment of your imagination was Vi’s belt strewn haphazardly on the coffee table.

You feel hollow, almost numb, and even if a persistent part of your brain was consistently telling you that you should’ve known better, the tears well in your eyes because you’d really hoped Violet was different.

You knuckle the tears away angrily, mind racing far too fast to register the door quietly unlocking and the soft footfalls coming down the hall.

“Babe?”

Your gaze snaps up.

Like a vision, Vi’s standing in the doorway, a handful of plastic bags in tow. She’s wearing her clothes from last night and the puffs under her eyes make her a little worse for wear.

She sets the bags down on the eat-in, rounds the couch to take you by the shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” she worries. “What’s going on?”

You hiccup, crumpling in her arms because you were so fucking scared.

“Thought you left,” you croak.

Vi breathes a sigh of relief, blowing out a hollow laugh because her girl’s such a baby.

“You have jack shit in your fridge,” she teases lightly. “How am I supposed to make you a five star breakfast with greek yogurt and carrot sticks?”

You whine.

“Don’t care about breakfast,” your muffled voice sounds from where your face is pressed in her chest. “Just wanted to wake up to you.”

Violet groans.

“You’re so cute,” she laughs, kissing the top of your head.

“I wanna go back to bed,” you mutter petulantly, emotional whiplash making your eyes droop.

“You’re not gonna let me make you breakfast?” Vi picks, smoothing the hair from your face.

Your eyes catch the bracelet refastened around her wrist and you grin softly, taking her fingers to press a kiss to her palm.

She could combust, gaze gooey as she watches you watch her.

Yeah, Vi has a huge problem.

One that’s particular, and overarching; one she doesn’t think she can go without.

And frankly, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

neng © 2024

[cheyisagirlkisser]

thinking about vi using her pretty muscles to manhandle reader into different positions

you're getting a blurb for this one but this is such a delicious thought..

Content: Rough sex, manhandling, dom! Vi obviously, descriptions of a few positions

Vi isn't aggressively rough, per say. However, she is obsessed with twisting you up like a pretzel when she is fucking you.

If she has you in missionary, she'll move your ankles up past her shoulders with ease, and you can only appreciate the view of her biceps flexing with her actions, your eyes lidded in pleasure with each godsent thrust her silicone dick grants your pussy.

You love riding her, but it's so hard when Vi's the type to not let you even do the work; she has turned you into a pillow princess, grabbing your hips and slamming you down onto her cock. It doesn't even take much effort to lift you up and drop you back down, and she relishes in how your lips form a cute little 'o' when you feel her hit your cervix.

Riding her face may be even worse. Even if you're hesitant to put all of your weight onto her face, she won't be hesitant to grab you and force you to practically suffocate her with your pussy, and she eats it for her pleasure, not yours. You don't get a say (unless you truly need to tap out, in which Vi is as gentle as humanly possible with you) in how long you stay with your legs spread across her face, having to take each movement and curl of her tongue deep in your pussy, her hands not guiding you but holding you down from squirming.

If her cock is pounding you from the back, she gets brutal. Slamming into you so hard you feel her hitting where your gummy walls are ridged every time, practically bruising your insides. When your body collapses out of the hands-and-knees position she previously manhandled you in, she will let you take it basically laid down on your stomach for a while, but she knows that the position isn't gonna do as much as if she had your ass up. So, when you least expect it, she'll grab your lower half, taking you by surprise with a wounded yelp as you feel the bullying the head of her biggest cock is doing to your walls. Bonus: eventually, you will get used to her maneuvering you ass-up, so she will just opt to turning you onto your side, hitching one of your legs up onto her shoulder, and plowing into you. Like this, her cock is even deeper inside you, and it makes you moan upon each and every thrust.

And really, all you can do is get dizzy not just from her using your cunt however she wants, but from the way her muscles strain as she does so and how badly you'd like to sink your teeth into them. Maybe when they're in your reach, you will.

[arcanegifs]

ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS SEASON 2 (2024): CaitVi feat. Vi's Gauntlets

[shitpostingsapphic]

Caitlyn Kiramman can be a main character that goes through a massive character arc where she starts out as a happy go lucky enforcer who is naive about the system she works for, thinks she can change it from within, ends up falling victim to her own prejudices that she hasn't had the time or wherewithal to work through, contributes to the system she thought she was dedicated to change, make some serious mistakes and harm others, feel immense guilt and self hatred for those mistakes, directly betrays the system in order to atone for those mistakes, and people will still say Arcane has a pro cop message in season 2.

[tasteslikekeys]

When like meets like...

[bestwitchsam]

Vi Art

Cr : ClaraDeArte

[viwifey]

#she still does

[xetlynn]

arcane imagines- caitlyn/violet

three's a crowd… isn’t it?

[arcane] [main page]

🔞⚠️CONTENT WARNING⚠️🔞: SMUT SMUT SMUT

Prompt: vi and Caitlyn loveee to tease you they’ve done it since you guys became friends. But now it’s really starting to bother you.

Contains: oral, multiple orgasms, strap, vibrators… etc…

“Wouldn’t she be so cute sandwiched between us?” Caitlyn teases, leaning into her girlfriend who was smirking at your flustered expression. You were currently at the mall with them, standing in the back of a Victoria’s Secret. Your eyes were wide at her words. 

They constantly joked about you being their third and recently it was really starting to get to you. “Cait, we’re in public.” You whine, trying to shut them up. Violet slings an arm over your shoulder. “You know we’re only messin’ sweetheart.” She coos and you shoves her off of you. “That’s the point.” You argue. 

You grumble, moving away from the couple that find amusement in your social anxiety. The two were your best friends, you three have done practically everything together. It was a joke with all of you guys to flirt. Then it turned into them teasing and messing with you. You can barely snap back at them. Always stunned by their words. 

It’s also because you are genuinely starting to want what they’re talking about. It was bothering you and you didn’t know how to tell them. This hangout is only proving your infatuation. 

Leaving Victoria’s Secret with a set that the couple convinced you to get so you could match with them. All three of you are carrying a little paper bag. “Oh, Spencers! Let’s go in there.” Violet points to the store that’s across the building on the little map. You stare at the screen before growing tense at the thought of going into the back of that store. You press your lips together, brewing a lie in your mind. 

You didn’t even want to know the things they were going to tease you with in there. “ Um, I-I’m starting to not feel good, guys.” You hold your stomach, they glance over to you. Your face was flushed. They look at one another, worried. “Alright, let’s walk you to your car.” Caitlyn motions towards the exit doors and you put your hands up. “It’s okay! I can go by myself. I don’t want to ruin your time here.” You frown, taking a step back on your own. Violet’s forehead creases with confusement. 

“[Name], you don’t feel good, why would we let you walk by yourself?” She questions you, taking the bag that was on your wrist. Holding it herself now. “Plus, this isn’t ruining our time. We can always walk back, love.” Cait adds. You genuinely just wanted to get away from them before you blurted out a nonsense sentence about your idiotic feelings for them. You also knew arguing with them was futile. 

You let out a jagged breath and let them take you to your car. You keep a hand placed on your stomach, having to keep up the lie until they weren’t around anymore. Violet snaked a hand on the small of your back, as Caitlyn held your free hand on the other side. Your muscles were tense, you didn’t really have to lie about the fact that you feel like you’re going to throw up. 

Vi sneakily pulls your keys out of your pocket without you noticing, unlocking your car and opening the driver’s side for you. You gawk at her, squinting your eyes. “Hey!” You snatch your keys from her pointer finger as she snickers at your reaction. Caitlyn shaking her head. “Drive safe, please text us when you get home.” She plants a kiss on your cheek. You quietly nod your head. Violet throws your bag in your car before giving you a small hug. 

“Yeah, please.” She adds. “Okay, will do. I’m probably going to knock out right when I get there anyways.” You inform them, plopping down on the seat, legs still stick out of the vehicle. “Good, I love you. Again be safe!” Caitlyn wiggles her fingers. “I love you too, you as well, Vi.” You say before she can complain. Violet grins, pulling into her girlfriend's side. Watching you shut the car door, and drive off. 

“We should get her some tums and food after a little more shopping.” The pink-haired girl looks up to her lover who has pursed out lips. “Definitely. Let’s go get that toy she was eyeing last time we were here too.” Cait winks, causing Vi to let out a loud laugh. “She’d have an aneurism.” 

You set your keys down on your kitchen counter, alongside the lingerie set as you head to your bedroom. You felt like a dumbass for how embarrassed you get at their words that truly didn’t have any meaning behind them other than the fact that they’re jokes. Just jokes. 

You flop down on your mattress, staring at your ceiling with a bored expression. Repeating all of their words in your head. Imagining them actually happening. Being sandwiched between your best friends. Taking turns kissing one another. Vi’s hands moving lower than just your back. Cait’s kisses she places on your cheek, traveling to your jaw. 

Your thighs squeeze together at the thought. You shoot up. You can’t think about them so… disturbingly. Seeming like a perv. Which if we’re being honest you kind of were one. You needed to distract yourself. Stop thinking about them. You go to your phone, also remembering to text them that you got home safely before swiping away from their group chat and going to the little red app with the white flame right in the middle of it. 

There’s this girl you’ve been chatting with, only sex in mind. That’s all it is. She offered it and you hesitated, not knowing if you should even after all the dirty talk the two of you have done but at this moment it’s all you could think about. You needed it. 

The exact moment the thirsty little idea is sent to this stranger online a bubble with three floating dots shows up immediately. Your heart races but the wetness in between your thighs is thinking for you. Your brain is fogged over with concupiscence. And she would be here in twenty minutes. 

You place your phone down, rushing to your room to change. You dig through your underwear drawer, not knowing what to wear. Your head goes up as an imaginary light bulb goes off. The lingerie. You scurry into your kitchen, plucking the little bag off of the counter. 

You lived alone so you threw your clothes off right there in the dining area. Quickly changing into the pink and blue lace set that was covered in tiny little bows. You adjust it, bending down to grab your clothes and throwing them in your bathroom. As you do so you check yourself out in the mirror. Vi and Caitlyn honestly possess superior taste in clothing. 

With a small smile you grab your satin bathrobe, throwing it over the beautiful set. Your nerves were at its peak as you waited for this girl to show up. Only talking for three weeks, using her for whenever you were horny. 

A knock at the door catches you off guard as you thought she still had five more minutes until she got to your home. You open the door without thinking, your jaw slacks open to the sight of your two best friends holding a bag of chinese food and something else unknown in another bag. You held your robe shut. “Looks like you were expecting someone?” Caitlyn tilts her head to the side as Violet pushes in. “Uh,” you glance over her head to see a sleek black charger speeding out of your driveway. The same black car that the girl you’ve been speaking to has in her photos. 

Your face drops, letting the blue-haired girl come in. 

“If you had a hook-up you could’ve told us, sweetheart. Not lie about being sick.” Violet laughs, inviting herself on your couch, turning on the tv. You shut the front door, leaning your head on it in embarrassment. “Gonna eat with us?” Caitlyn asks, looking over to your hunched figure.

“What are you guys doing?” You question in a quiet tone, almost irritated. God knows what they said to the girl. “Hm? We’re eating the food we had bought for our friend we were told was sick. A friend that said she didn’t feel good enough to stay at the mall with us.” Vi opens the white styrofoam box, showing your favorite. 

You stared at them, blinking slowly. “Why’d you lie, darling? We would’ve understood. You have needs. I mean we could’ve arranged something to meet those needs.” Caitlyn leans back on the cushion, crossing her leg over the other. “That.” You point to her. 

“That is why I left. Why I lied- actually I didn’t even really lie! I didn’t leave to hook up with her!” You exclaimed angrily, pacing back and forth. “I left because of those stupid… irritating comments you two make that I can never tell if they’re real or just making fun of me!” You breathe out, your face heating up as you explode. 

“Do you guys know how belittling they are? Especially because they actually turn me on? I’m left to wonder if my best friends actually want to fuck me and it makes me feel like I’m insane!” You speak with your hands flailing in the air, now standing in front of your coffee table, pointing between the two of them. Not even seeing your robe fly open. Exposing yourself to them. 

Their eyes wander down your figure, back to your face that was seething with anger. “Didn’t know we left you hot like that, sweetheart.” Violet says with a smirk ghosting her lips as she leans forward, listening to your rant. Caitlyn hummed in agreement, biting her bottom lip. “Oh please, I’m sure you two do it on purpose. To fuck with me.” You grunt, rolling your eyes. “And if we did? What does that say about us?” Caitlyn asks. 

“Do you want to fuck me?” You cross your arms, ignoring her questions. “What do you think?” You throw your head back, groaning in frustration. “Just answer me!” You cry out. 

“Darling we want more than just to fuck you.” Caitlyn chuckles, standing up and walking towards you. You gape up to her. You weren’t expecting such a… output answer. Her hands grab onto the top of your robe, feeling the fabric between her fingers. Violet watches the scene before her. Rubbing her lips together. “Wha-”

“Shh,” She places a finger on your lips. “You had your turn to speak, now it’s ours.” She tells you, looking over to her girlfriend who takes that as her cue to stand up. Coming up behind you. Her hands massaging your shoulders. “[Name], those comments. Were hints. Hints that clearly weren’t getting through your thick skull.” Vi taps your head and you whimper out. “We’ve thought about it for a while. How we both long for you.” Caitlyn forces you to look back to her, grabbing your jaw. “So, you could say yes. We do want to fuck you. But we want more than that.” She whispers into your ear, her grip never loosening against your skin. 

“What do you say, love? Do you want that too?” She asks, her lips tickling over your neck. Your thighs pushing together, as your core begged- no screamed for some sort of friction. “Ah- yes.” You squeak, feeling Violet’s hands on your hips, squeezing then roaming to other places. 

“Yes what, sweetheart?” Violet chaffs, her pupils dilated as she admired both women up against each other. “I want it too.” You pout, glancing back to her with the hand still squishing your cheeks. “Kiss her, Vi.” Caitlyn orders in a simple manner. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” She murmurs before roughly locking her lips with your own. 

Straining your neck as you kiss the girl behind you, leaning your head back to do so. Caitlyn takes her sweater off as the two of you are occupied with one another. Undressing herself to her underwear. 

Violet peeks over to her girlfriend and smirks into your mouth, unlocking only to turn you around to face her now. “Wearing our matching set to fuck someone else?” Vi cocks her head to the side and you look down, biting your lip. “Yeah… sorry.” You huff, mentally cursing at yourself for that one. “Eh, you’re ours now so who cares.” Violet’s hand goes to the nap of your neck, pushing you into another kiss. 

You feel another pair of hands grasp onto your hips, pulling your behind into Caitlyn’s groin. You gasp into Vi, melting in the other girl's touch. “Want us to fuck you in front of the window, pretty one? Or take it to the bedroom… get more comfortable?” Caitlyn musters out, feeling you against her. Wanting- needing more of you. 

Vi withdraws so that you can answer the important question. “Bedroom.” You exhale, clinging onto Violet to catch your breath. “I have a little surprise for you when we get there~” Caitlyn sings, letting you go. Your eyebrows knit together, giving her a curious look. “You’ll see.” She waves. 

You lead the way to your bedroom, Caitlyn grabbing the plastic bag you saw from before when they first got her. Violet follows right behind you. Grabbing at you numerous times. “You’re the only one dressed.” You point it out to her. “Wanna undress me then?” She plants a chaste kiss on your lips, pushing you down on your bed as she does so.

You giggle, nodding your head and getting on your knees. Caitlyn walks into the bedroom to you taking Violet’s shirt clean off. 

“Oh, I could get used to coming home to this…” She says, thinking aloud. The two of you turn to her with smiles adorning your lips. “Are you guys serious? Like wanting me to be a part of your relationship?” You nervously ask, flickering between the two of them. “Sweetheart, how much more obvious can we make it?” Violet sighs out, peeling your robe off of your shoulders. 

“Seriously, want us to make a sign to ask you?” Caitlyn climbs into the bed beside you. “You could just… ask me. Like normal people would.” You say in a ‘duh’ like tone. 

“I think our way is a little more fun, darling.” Caitlyn nips at your shoulder getting behind you like she was while in the living room. “Helping” you take Vi’s clothes off. Really she was only making it more difficult. Her digits dancing down your front. Violet’s words of encouragement boring into your ears. “Almost there, just gotta get that belt off, princess.” She pets your face. 

“Doing so good, you almost got it.” Praising you for finally getting the belt unclasped. Caitlyn grinding against your ass as her fingers played with your lacey panties. Her mouth attacks your skin. “I- hah, Vi.” You puff out, leaning back against Cait as you try to pull the belt out of the pant loops. “M right here, sweetheart.” She reminds you. 

“I- can’t get t’.” You jut out your bottom lip. “Yes you can, try a little harder.” She bucks her hips forward watching you tug and tug. Caitlyn peers at you struggling with one eye open. 

Deciding to make it even more strenuous for you, sneaking through your panties. Her finger tip dipping in between your soaked folds. You jerk forward from the sudden contact. “Caitlyn…” You whine, your hand going to grab at her wrist but Vi smacks it away. “You haven’t gotten me undressed, hun.” She prompts. You look up at her with pleading eyes as her girlfriend is currently exploring your delicate part. 

She doubles down, giving you a stern guise. Your face contorts, your head going down as you bite down a moan. Roughly tugging the belt from her pants, eventually getting it. Violet cheers for you, Caitlyn even mumbling a small congratulations without stopping her own movements on you. 

You eagerly pull the girl's pants down, showcasing her boyshorts that were tight and left little to no imagination. “I want in on the fun now.” She pouts, nudging Caitlyn’s head away from you. She glares instantaneously up at the pink-haired woman. “Bite me.” Caitlyn spits out, her fingers coming out from your underwear, grabbing at your neck. 

Your fluids trailing over your flesh. “C’mon, cupcake, move it.” Violet fusses like a child. 

“Ugh, so impatient.” Caitlyn throws her head back in annoyance, moving back so you can get further into the bed to allow Vi to join. 

“So mean, for no reason.” Violet complains. “What a big baby.” Cait rolls her eyes, folding her arms. You chuckle at the both of them, sitting back against your pillows. “You love me.” Violet pulls her into a passionate kiss. You gawk at the two of them as they make out right in front of you. 

Your own hand traveling down to your underwear, touching yourself through the layer of lace before moving the fabric over. Legs spread as you play with your bud, juices splashing that earn attention from the girls. You don’t even stop, letting out little pants as your finger circles the nerve. 

“Touching yourself so shamelessly to us?” Caitlyn crawls over to you, sitting herself between your legs. Violet stays put but observes nonetheless. 

“Mhm, turn me on like no other.” You give her a lopsided grin, your chest heaving from the pleasure you give yourself. “I’m jealous of your own fingers.” She admits, her eyes not leaving the beautiful view gifted upon her. “Replace them, then.” You boldly tell her, Catilyn was quick to respond to that. Without warning she attaches to your drenched pussy. 

Her tongue swirls around your folds, operating toward your clit. You grip onto your sheets, your eyes meeting with Vi who’s bewildered at the two of you. 

“C’mere…” eliciting a moan from your mouth, reaching forward to the girl. She slowly listens, going over to you. You go to lift your torso to kiss her but Caitlyn shoves you back down onto the pillows. Speaking something into your cunt, the vibrations sending shock waves through you. 

“Sh-shit!” You mewl, your stomach tightening and you grab onto Vi’s arm. “K-kiss me please!” You beg, not even able to open your eyes as Caitlyn’s lips latch onto your folds, having a field day with your pretty cunt. Violet doesn’t even let a second pass as she gives you what you want. Your noises are now muffled by her. 

Caitlyn now recedes, spitting onto your hole that begins to clench down on nothing. She snickers, her thumb swiping down your slit before teasing that tensed ring of muscle that just sucked her in. “Mm, so nasty~” She mutters, her lips glistening from your liquid. Only to be drowned back in it once she reattaches herself. Using her middle and ring fingers to leisurely plunge themselves inside of your gummy walls. 

You inhale sharply, your thighs threatening to compress against the blue-haired woman who works on your cunt skillfully. Violet nips at your bottom lip, sucking on it. Your eyes open, looking at her close-eyed face that’s right up against your own. Breathing raggedly through her nose as she focuses on your mouth. Her eyebrows furrowing then unforrowing repetitively. 

“Tastes ‘s sweet.” Caitlyn maunders in joy, biting at your nub, her fingers thrusting in and out of you. You have to push Vi away for a moment, feeling yourself approaching combustion. “I- hah- hah, Vvv…” You can’t even get your words out, so dumbified by the girl’s actions against you. “I think she’s about to cum, cupcake.” Violet chuckles, she caresses Caitlyn’s hair, moving it out of her face, out of the way so she can get the job done even quicker. 

Your nails dig into Vi’s forearm, definitely leaving little crescent indents. “F-fuck!” You cry out, rolling your pelvis up and down against Caitlyn’s unrelenting muzzle. 

Her fingers curl and meet that mushy spot, letting your movements take control to get you to your high. “Taking it so perfectly, princess.” Violet rubs your knee, still allowing you to grip onto her for support. 

The spurts and splashes from your pussy getting louder and louder. Your toes crimping. “C-cummingh~!” You grit your teeth, your chest pushing forwards as your cunt creams all over Caitlyn’s fingers that continuously fuck in and out of you. Her lips sucking on your little bud sending you over the edge. A loud squeal exiting out of you. You lay backwards onto the pillows, whimpering, legs shaking as Caitlyn doesn’t retreat away from you. Only taking her fingers out and lifting them upwards towards Vi. “Try her, she’s too good~” She smiles, kitten licking your sensitive clit. 

Violet sits flat on her ass, taking her girlfriends fingers, putting them on her tongue. 

“Too much, Cait! Too much!” You attempt to push her away but she’s like a boulder, sticking in place as she cleans up the mess you made. That she caused. Ignoring your small pleads. Violet slurps the juices off of Caitlyn’s digits. You watch with a pained expression. Eyes almost rolling to the back of your head. 

“You’re so greedy.” Violet tells Caitlyn who hums in agreement. “You would be too.” She retorts, finally giving your poor pussy a break. You sigh in relief, chest moving up and down rapidly. “Let’s see, is she really as good as you say? The juices on your fingers weren’t enough for me to truly know.” She replaces Caitlyn from being in between your thighs and you start to whine, trying to close your legs to stop what was coming. “Ah, ah, ah… bad girl.” Violet tuts, forcing them back open. Caitlyn scrunches her nose, smiling down at you. 

Violet kisses the flush of your thighs, trailing down to your slick core. You were a mess, grabbing at her hair, attempting to pull her away from you. 

You hear the crinkling of a plastic back and you lift your head to look over the girl currently licking at you. Getting a taste. Caitlyn’s pulling multiple things out of a black bag from spencers and your eyes widened, now alarmed at what they could have gotten. 

Your gaze was hazy from Violet still latched onto you, trying to focus on what Caitlyn was taking out of boxes. Tears welding in your eyes, the pleasure was too much. “Gonna get these cleaned.” At least that’s what you think you hear as Caitlyn leaves the bedroom. The sloppy noises of Violet loudly eating you out like she was a starved woman. 

She practically is as the Chinese food was still uneaten out in the living room. 

“Vi, pl-please! Ive m-me a second!” You yawp, squirming underneath her with ragged breaths. “You’re addictive, sweetheart. I can’t.” She replies, curtly returning to ambushing your tender, now rather fragile drenched pussy. The smell of your arousal filled the room. 

Violet was different from Caitlyn, sloppier, more movement. Slightly aggressive as her head moved against you. Keeping your spread with her fingers. Caitlyn was gentle in the sense of not thrashing around like a crazed-woman. Speaking of who, she walks back into the room with a black harness and right on her crotch is a thick dark blue swirled with hints of pink dildo. Your face dropped in… fear? 

She grins, a tongue peaking through her teeth. She’s rubbing lube over it as she takes small steps to the bed. You then notice another object in her other hand. A beginners bullet vibrator that was decored in purple with white moons and stars littered all over it. It was something you joked about getting months ago while at the mall on your birthday. 

Caitlyn presses the button on the bottom, the sound hitting Violet’s ears. She smirks, pulling away from your cunt. Cait hands her the toy. “Mm, wait! Wait!” You sit up quickly. “Wait!” You stick a hand out, covering yourself. 

The two sit patiently, waiting like you said to. “Wh-what about you two? Don’t you two want to cum?” You try to switch the attention away from you, knowing you were done for unless you stopped it. They glance over at each other. 

“Today isn’t really about us, love.” Caitlyn shrugs her shoulders. “Yeah, just relax and take it like a good sweetheart.” Violet pulls you into a kiss, you moan against her. 

“Unless it’s too much for you…” Cait butts in, ending the kiss. You contemplate for a moment. Your pussy throbbing answers for you. “It’s not too much…” You murmur. “Really because you were just cryin-” 

You smack a hand over Violet’s mouth. “I’m fine. It’s not too much.” You swear, causing the two to laugh at your mechanisms. “If it does, just say the words… Lemon-Lime.” Caitlyn tells you, stroking her faux cock. You nod your head then you feel wetness spread across the palm of your hand, you retreat away from Violet’s mouth in disgust. “Ew, Vi.” You give her a look. “Ew? My tongue was just in your mouth and pussy.” She retaliates, you give her a ‘so’ expression in response. 

“You two are children.” Caitlyn breathes out her nose, standing back up from the bed. “Violet sit behind [Name].” She demands, clipping her bra off. “What?” Violet asks, confused. “Just do it.” Caitlyn snaps. 

“Okay, okay… bossy~” Violet stands up on the mattress and you scoot forward allowing room for the pink-haired girl. She plops down and her legs go on either side of your body. As you observe the other girl in front of you, gawking at her chest. And as you aren’t paying attention, Vi unclasps your own bra. It falls off your arms and you purse your lips. Looking back to her. “You could’ve asked.” You tell her. “Where’s the fun in that?” She queries. 

“Knock it off.” Caitlyn stops yet another argument from the both of you. Your backs are straightening at her words. “Yes, ma’am.” You salute, Violet following suit. She rolls her eyes, finally climbing back onto the bed and in her rightful spot between your legs like beforehand. “These will only get in the way.” She grunts, peeling your underwear off with the help of you lifting your butt up for her. 

“You soaked the bed.” She comments with a smug smile. “Do we turn you on that badly?” She skims over your thighs, petting back and forth. “Mhm.” You nod your head meekly. 

Violet’s empty hand goes to your breasts, taking turns fondling each one. Caitlyn hovers over you, playing with the dark-colored dildo, making sure the lube was perfectly lathered on it. Your eyes nervily watched her do so. Violet subconsciously put the vibrator against your stomach as she held onto the object along with you. 

Caitlyn then clicks something on the bottom of the dildo and you see it begin to start vibrating as well. Your eyes widen. “Nervous, pretty one?” She asks, holding onto your knee and you shake your head. “N-no.” Your voice defies you. Her hand grips the rubber dick, aligning against your achy hole. 

Violet forces her attentiveness towards the scene, mouth open in excitement. The quivering of the object hits you first, the vibrations sloshing against your juices. Caitlyn’s fake cock sheathing inside you all at once. Earning a ripe yelp from you. “Mhm, tell me how it feels, darling.” She tells you, squishing the cheeks of your face as she thrusts slowly in and out of you. “Good, sho good, Cait!” You snivel, leaning back against Violet who holds you. 

“Gonna fuck you so good you can’t think of anything other than this fake cock I’m giving you.” She declares confidently, forcing your legs to spread wider, entering inside you deeper. “Fuuu-ck!” Your head rests over Violet’s shoulder and between her neck. “N-no, look at me.” Caitlyn forces your face back to her way. You groan, drooling over her hand that mushes your lips out. “Look at me fucking you.” She grits, her pelvis pounding against your own. 

Hands roamed all over you from behind, Violet palming your breasts, dropping the vibrator letting it rest on your stomach as she pinches your nipple. Making out with your neck, leaving marks scattered on you. 

Caitlyn sees the little bullet, picking it up and placing it over your delicate bud. “Ohmygod!” You scream, your walls clenching down on her cock. The vibrations fight against each other and you actually begin to cry at the feeling. 

“You see how she fucks that little hole, it’s all hers, huh?” Violet says, pointing down at the rough fuck you’re getting. You nod your head weakly, your tits bouncing at every thrust into you. “I asked a question.” She smacks your breast and you whimper. Caitlyn lets go of your face, grabbing one of your legs and putting it against your chest. 

“Y-yes, I see it! Fuck! R-right there rrriight there!” You huff, grab onto your own lifted leg so that Caitlyn can fully focus on your pussy. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck!!” You sob, looking back to Violet who immediately traps you into a messy kiss. Caitlyn gets harsher to make it harder for you to make out with Vi. 

“Vi, in a moment turn her around. I want her to eat you out.” Caitlyn ruts into you as she speaks. The vibration was also bringing her close to an orgasm as she knows you were getting to one as well. Vi only gives the girl a thumbs up as she was fixed upon you. 

The girl’s tempo accelerates, rubbing the bullet up, down and around on your clit. “I- ffffuuu…” You couldn’t even get the words out as you release, juices squirting, making a mess on Caitlyn’s pelvis. Soaking the fabric of the strap. “Did you just squirt, darling?” Her voice was barely audible to your ears as you rode out your high. Almost biting down on Vi a little too hard. Drawing blood to her bottom lip. You pull back letting out a mix of random babbles. Apologizing. 

Violet’s tongue swipes against the blood, feeling where you bit her. Amused by it. 

“Oh shit-” Caitlyn doubles over, her torso trembling at her own orgasm, grabbing onto your chest as she cums. Filling you deeper so that the dildo hits the right spot against her clit. Vi pouts. “When will that be me?” She says, disappointed. “Sh-shut up.” Caitlyn mutters, glaring up at the girl as she turns off both vibrators. 

Carefully she withdraws from your pussy, making a little pop noise as the tip comes out. So lewd. 

“Alright, on your stomach, little one.” Cait smacks your cunt, a small mewl leaving your mouth. “Okayyy.” You tiredly sigh, getting up to your knees with the help of pushing off of Vi. “How do you think she eats? Messy? Clean? Mix of both?” Violet asks Caitlyn as she takes off her underwear, laying back on the pillows. “Let me know while she does it, yeah?” Cait inquires, gifting your ass with a swift slap. 

You were now right in front of Vi’s cunt that glistened, soaked from being so neglected. Your eyes wander, taking in everything. Mesmerized. Your ass was poked up in the air, chest almost hitting the bed as your back arched beautifully. Your forearms rested underneath Vi’s thighs, touching against her ass. “So pretty down there.” She compliments, pulling the hair out of your eyes as you look up at her for a split second. 

“Ready for me again, darling?” Caitlyn asks, her hands resting on your ass. “Yes,” you wiggle your ass, she sneers. Kneading the flesh before her as the fraudulent member re-enters, inch by inch. 

You then hide your face in Violet’s muff, tongue flattened over her folds. Vigorously you begin to eat out your best friend, slurping up her cunt as Caitlyn pistons in and out of you. 

“Oh shit, cupcake, she’s g-ood with th-that mouth of hers.” Violet stretches out her toes, feeling your lengthy tongue delving and swirling inside of her. “Really? I wouldn’t expect less from such perfection.” Caitlyn grabs her hair, moving it over to her shoulder as she fucks into you at a flawless stride. 

“Ye-ah! Hah! Same!” Vi throws her head back on the large feather pillows. You take pride in her words, going in overtime to munch on her pussy. Caitlyn’s momentum, her thrusts pushing you into Vi heartily. “I’m gonna cum if she keeps this up!” Vi’s hand goes to your hair instantaneously. Keeping your head as still as possible on her cunt. Entrapping you, not even letting you up to breathe. 

The bump of your nose tickling her nub, her liquid coaxing it. With each forceful plunge into you by Caitlyn you let out a loud moan. Sending shivers down Violet’s back at the feeling. Her fingers slowly maneuvering through your hair. Giving it a tug once she feels herself getting closer to the edge. 

“Fuck her like that, f-fuck her hard.” Vi tells Caitlyn, gripping onto your hair simultaneously. “Feels good for you?” Cait teases, ramming into. Repeatedly leaving quick smacks to your ass cheeks. Creating red marks along with little welts. “Mhm, almost there.” She nods her head, having to hold onto your bed frame from behind her head so she doesn’t yank your hair too tremendously. 

Your jaw was onset to lock so your tongue proceeded to a spirited, lively speed. Flicking up and down her clit. Vi’s legs begin to shudder, indicating that she's going to cum soon. “Fucking hell, sweetheart! Got a quick tongue on you.” And she’s still able to be a jokester. You roll your eyes, your teeth pinching down on the nub before your lips go around it. Sucking while also circulating your tongue. 

“There! There!!!” Violet’s abs flexing as her release hits her like a truck. Her hips fuck into your mouth as you let her ride her face. “Got to cum too?” Caitlyn puffs with a smile, watching her girlfriend violate your face with a fucked-out expression. “Mhmmm~” Vi drops her hips down and you pant, lifting your torso up as you were still getting thrusted into. “You did so good, you eat like a pro.” Vi, sits up to pull you into a kiss. “Thank you.” You sheepishly say, having a hard time keeping your eyes open. “Gonna cum again?” 

“Almost, go hard, please.” You plead, leaning your head down on Vi’s abdomen. 

Your fingers trailing up and down her muscles. 

She admires you, purposely flexing them just for you. You deserve it for the amount of orgasms you’ve given them. About to gift another. “Harder? You sure, love?” Caitlyn double checks, her hands going to your hips to get ready. “Yesh, need it.” You nod your head, your cheek squished against Vi’s stomach. 

“Okay,” Cait then rutting into you at a harsher momentum. Pap, pap, paps of her skin hitting against your ass echoed in the room. Her hand snakes around you, her fingers dancing against your clit. Rubbing you fastly. Violet holds your hand as you mewl and moan. Your drool and saliva pooling at her stomach. 

Caitlyn sweats as she humps into you, clawing at your skin with one hand. The other still working on your plump, raw clit. “Caitlynnn~” You sing out. “Right here, darling.” She pants. 

“I f-feel iittt.” Your back starts to hunch upwards but Caitlyn pushes it back into an arch. The sound of the dummy cock fucking in out of your ooey pussy only grows louder. Your juices spilling around it. 

“Ha-hereee!” You fuck your ass back onto Caitlyn, meeting her hips. She stops doing the work, letting you fuck yourself on her. Kneading your doughy ass, patting it a few times. “Take it all, love. Take what’s yours.” She coos. 

Your body jerks from the orgasm, as it comes to a stop you lay there restlessly. “Shit.” You whine. 

Caitlyn goes to exit from your hole but you grab onto her wrist, keeping her in place. “Hold on, please.” You look up at her with half-lidded eyes. She smiles, leaning down and kissing your back. “Of course, just tell me when.” She rubs your butt soothingly. “You did really well, love.” She pecks your skin all over. 

Violet pets your hair, agreeing. “I have such two pretty, perfect girlfriends.” She mutters and now you're met with both pairs of eyes laying on you. Your face flushes. “Two?” You lift your head up. “Is that alright?” Vi cocks her head to the side, the hands on your ass stop their movements. “I- Yeah, of course.” You nod your head with a laugh. 

Your pussy clenching down on the faux dick, reminding you that it was still in there. You then make a face. “Okay, slowly- I mean SLOWLY get out of me.” You say to Caitlyn, who listens. 

Once it’s fully unsheathed you make a disgusted expression, feeling your cum drip out of you and down your thighs. “So pretty.” Caitlyn swipes at the liquid with two fingers, bringing it up to her mouth and licking it. Vi perks up. “Lemme try.” She sticks her hand forward and Caitlyn gets more, wiping it onto her girlfriend’s. 

“You guys are so weird.” You scrunch your nose. Closing your eyes, tired. 

[nikoco11]

like when kids hand u a bug without warning

[abbaquin]

reminder to give your butch forehead kisses

[nathaniacolver]

i don't think you guys understand the levels of lesbianism in this scene

this 90 caliber electric net is caitlyn's E ability......aka, she's the ONLY champion in league of legends that can use this ability.........thus, the writing decision to have vi, a separate, melee league champion, be the only one in the show that EVER triggers it, with her bare hands (and against another champion, at that), suggests levels of intimacy and trust that i can't even comprehend

additionally, this isn't the first time caitlyn's given up her gun (aka ALL of her special abilities) for vi, either

oh to have a girlfriend

[sunsburns]

so I’m back with another request for vi (lmk if you’re no longer interested in taking them) but I was thinking about putting on lipgloss, vi watching you get ready and then asking for some. so she kisses it off of you 🙈

hehehe why am i cheesing and smiling soo much over this req

it’s not the first time you’re getting ready with vi, and it’s definitely not the first time you’re doing your makeup around her. but the way you’re sitting in front of the mirror now, leaning closer to your reflection with your legs tucked beneath you on the floor, has her a little flustered.

her eyes trace every movement you make—the soft brush of your fingers as they adjust your hair, the tilt of your head as you examine your reflection. she notices the way the light catches on your cheekbones, the slight furrow of your brows when you’re focused. her lips twitch, like she’s thinking about saying something but can’t decide if it’s worth it.

vi shifts, the quiet rustle of fabric as she sits cross-legged beside you. her cheek rests on her knee, her sharp blue gaze never leaving you. when you catch her watching, you grin—bright and teasing—before turning back to the mirror, leaving her with the ghost of your smile lingering in her chest.

“what’s that?”

her voice cuts through the quiet. low, curious, and a little smug.

you pause mid-motion, blinking at her in the mirror. “what’s what?”

she straightens, reaching for your hands. her fingers brush yours, tugging the lipgloss wand from your grip. she tilts it between her fingers, inspecting it like it’s the most mysterious thing she’s ever seen.

you blink, bemused. “don’t be stupid, you know what lipgloss is, vi.”

she bites back a grin, her lips twitching as she feigns innocence. “nope. i don’t think i do.”

“i wear it all the time.”

“must be around your other girlfriend,” she snickers, leaning in just enough for her smirk to take up your whole view.

you roll your eyes, though the corners of your mouth betray you, tugging into a smile. “must be,” you quip, turning back to the mirror. the wand glides across your lips in a smooth sweep, the faint scent of vanilla or something sugary hanging in the air. vi watches the way your lips press together after, glossy and soft, catching the light.

you close the tube, the faint click breaking the silence, and glance at her. the breath catches in your throat. she’s leaning so close, her nose nearly brushing yours, her eyes heavy and lingering.

her breath fans across your face, warm and steady. her hand rises, fingers curling gently around the back of your neck. her thumb drags slow and deliberate along the soft skin behind your ear, leaving a faint trail of warmth that sends a shiver down your spine.

she hums, low and thoughtful, furrowing her brows like she’s studying something important. “can’t believe you’re cheating on me.”

“thought you already knew,” you manage, your voice soft, teasing. your grin spreads slowly, toothy and wide, and she mirrors it, a quiet huff of laughter escaping her lips.

“yeah, yeah,” vi mutters, her gaze flicking briefly to your lips, then back to your eyes. “let me get some of that lipgloss.”

your brows shoot up, excitement lighting up your face. “yeah?” you ask, glancing at the scattered tubes in your makeup bag. “what colour? i’ve got pink, brown, some wine red—oh! i could start with clear if you want—”

her hand tightens ever so slightly on your neck, just enough to make you falter. the warmth of her palm steadies you as she pulls you closer, her breath brushing your cheek before her lips meet yours.

the kiss is soft at first, slow and steady, like she’s savouring the moment. her lips are warm against yours, the faintest press of her nose brushing your cheek. there’s the quiet sound of your breath hitching, mingling with the subtle rustle of clothes as she angles herself closer. her thumb strokes absently along your neck, grounding you as her lips move against yours, testing, then pressing more firmly.

when she pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, her gaze is softer now, a flicker of something warm and unguarded that she doesn’t bother hiding.

“tastes sweet,” she murmurs, her lips quirking into a crooked smile.

you can’t help but laugh, your cheeks warm. “it’s the lipgloss.”

“maybe.” her grin grows as her fingers linger at the nape of your neck, brushing your skin like she’s reluctant to let go. “but it’s probably you.”

[kngrose]

pitfighter vi who promises reader just the tip and then gives her the whole strap🫶🫶🫶

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐏

vi making you take the whole strap

WARNINGS: NONCON! Dead Dove Do Not Eat, virginity loss, coercion, dacryphilia, spit play, implied corruption kink, bulging, be safe, heed warnings!

from roselí. ᡣ𐭩 : i am so in love with this idea omg omg omg— this was supposed to be a drabble and then i got carried away, so the ending is abrupt. ^^

Vi would just be going against her better judgment here, like she usually does about… everything.

"...Are you sure this is what you want, baby?"

She’d asked gently as she leaned down and whispered into your ear, her breath warm as it hit your skin. Vi's hands moved up and down your sides slowly, her body pressed against yours. She let out a something like a huff of a laugh through her nose at your whispered, ‘Yes… But— you remember our promise, right?’ It was something about that, that made you think, maybe you should’ve known better.

She promised a few nights ago that she would indulge your request of losing your virginity. She was close, trusted— you’d had no problem confessing it to her and she’d made you feel comfortable and safe in her presence. You didn’t want to lose it to just anybody, but you wanted to have the experience. “Just the tip.” She’d initially meant it as a joke. Just a lighthearted statement to loosen you up a bit, but she was taken aback when you’d eagarly nodded in agreement, holding her to that statement.

Vi chuckled lowly at you, your nervousness and anticipation was so cute and endearing. She leaned down, her body hovering over yours, her mass pressing you to the matress. She could feel your heart beating fast, it was exciting. She took a moment to relish in this moment, her lips moving down to your neck, kissing and biting at it softly. "You're so cute, you know that?" She whispered against your skin between kisses, gently biting and suckling the sensitive flesh on your neck. You could make out every strand of inky black hair on her head.

“Vi—”

“You’re nervous, huh?”

You swallowed thickly, trying to push down the nerves that were making it hard to breathe. “Yes.”

"Try to relax, it'll feel better." She murmured, finally sitting up straight, gripping the thick— almost daunting strap in her fist. She’d told you she had nothing smaller, that this was all she could offer you. She placed a large palm right above your pussy, pressing firmly to keep your hips still. “Ready for it?” she locked eyes with you, nudging the tip against your clit, slapping it there a few times. You nodded shakily, holding her gaze with anticipation.

“Words.”

“Yes I’m ready…” It came out shaky, like you were riding a bike on a rocky path. She nods curtly, her gaze falling to your pussy, all spread nicely for her. She taps the tip against your clit a few more times, enjoying the way you gasp softly before slowly tilting the tip downwards to your hole.

It started out subtle, a stinging sensation that slowly built up— but it spread quickly as she pushed further, your hole struggling to accommodate to her size. It felt like being ripped open, the girth of it pushing upwards of your blatter. Your back lifted off the bed. “O-ouch!—” You let out a soft yelp, grasping her hip tightly as to keep her grounded there.

"Shhh.. just keep breathing" She replied immediately, feeling you tense and her free hand coming up to push you back down onto the bed. "Just breathe, relax." She whispered, gently kissing along the leg she held up. You tried to do as she instructed, taking deep, shaky breaths, closing your eyes tightly. It was starting to work.

But your relief was short lived, snatched from you as you felt the searing pain of her sliding deeper. “W-wait vi— what are you doing?!” You took the hand you had placed firmly on her hip and pushed, trying your hardest to still her movement. But it was impossible— she was so strong, much moreso than you, your efforts were fruitless. "Shh... calm down, baby.." She whispered softly, trying to sooth you as she held her position for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling. Her free hand moved up to brush against your cheek and gently caress your chest, trying to get you to relax. Her voice was soft and calming, trying her best to comfort you as she felt you getting tense. "Relax. Everything is gonna be alright. I got you. I promise I'll go slow but..I need you to relax, okay? Just breathe…"

“N-no! Vi— you said just the tip!”

"I know, I know... baby, I'm sorry.." She said, her body moving still to hold herself up, one arm propped on the bed beside your head. She looked down at you with an understanding, but also determined look, trying to reassure you. "But you're doing so well for me. You're such a good girl..." She pushed her hips further, firmly this time, watching your expression closely. “Move your hand.” she commanded gently, and when you refused she grabbed it and pinned it your your side. She leaned down and pressed her lips to yours, claiming your lips in a deep and passionate kiss.

She frowned as you turned your head, a childish attempt at avoiding her affection. "Baby, please.." She begged softly, her hand reaching up and gently grabbing your chin, tilting your head back towards her so she would see your face. "Don't do that, look at me, baby. C'mon." Her voice was desperate. Her lips were so close to yours, her body leaning over you, her free hand still caressing your skin. She was aching for your taste again.

When you turned your face away from her a second time, low growl escaped her lips, her grip on your chin tightening. "No. Eyes on me, baby. I said look at me. I want you to look at me, I want to see your pretty face when I'm taking you." She commands, her voice firm yet gentle.

You felt her bottom out, your pelvis throbbing at the feeling. You felt to full, so uncomfortable. It hurt just to slightly move your hips. Tears blur your vision, a mixture of frustration and and betrayal overwhelming you. It felt like she was pressing down on you at all sides— her presence giving you a sick feeling in your tummy.

She started at a slow and steady pace, her hips meeting yours deliberately, one of her hands gently caressing the side of your face to try and sooth you. Her lips began to suck at your neck again, leaving soft, small love bites and hickeys along your skin, marking you as hers. "That's it... you're such a good girl for me, baby.... So so good... and you look so pretty like this. Taking me in... so good for me.." You didn’t bother to try wiping your tears, they would keep flowing anyways.

She took a hand and rubbed your clit meticulously, applying soft pressure. “F-fuck—!” You cursed, hands gripping the sheets tightly. Vi smirked at your reaction, rubbing just a bit faster, “Gotta loosen you up baby, you’re so tight.” She spit onto your pussy. “Relax, princess.”

“I can’t!”

“You can.” You try to bite back the yelps of pain, not wanting to edge her on any further than you already unkowingly have, tucking your lip between your teeth. You keep your eyes squeezed shut, your body rocking with every slam of her hips. "No, sweetness,” She takes her thumb and pulls your lip free. “You’re so pretty when you make little noises for me. Let me hear them, I wanna hear your pretty voice." Her eye contact was daunting and unwavering, it made you nauseous.

Her pace began to pick up a bit more, her hips moving more urgently against you. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air, along with her soft, ragged breaths and your yelps. Her free hand squeezed your hip, her slender fingers digging into the soft flesh. Her mouth came down and began to gently nuzzle your neck, her breath hot against your skin as she pressed messy little kisses along the sensitive flesh there.

“How is it, hm?” She said between kisses, but you chose not to respond. You were focused on the way you could feel you pussy starting to leak, your hole embracing her now. Your body was betraying your mind. “S-shit!” You whimper quietly against your best efforts, but you know she caught it.

She sits back up and you could see the thought cross her mind before she acted on it, her hand reaching down to shove two fingers into your mouth, caressing your tongue with a perverted smirk. "Good girl.... keep those pretty lips open for me, baby..” You could feel the spit sliding down your chin. You felt your pussy throb at her praise, moaning abrubtly at her words. Her thrusts had really been working into you now, nudging your walls with a purpose. It felt good.

That one moan went straight to Vi's core, hearing you sent a shiver down her spine, her pace quickening slightly. She pulled your hips up, into you at new angle, watching in awe as you fell apart. “Hah—hah—” You didn’t even try to stay quiet anymore, her dick hitting your g-spot deliciously. "Yeah.... just like that, baby. Let it out for me.” She stuck two fingers back into your mouth, “Get ‘em nice and wet, babydoll,” Vi groaned lowly as she watched you flick your tongue over her fingers, moving them down to your clit again to rub you. “Feels s’good right, baby? My baby just needed someone to push her past her limits, huh?”

You replied with a string of moans, your feet flailing aimlessly at her thrusts. “Oh, fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” She notices it before you do; the bulge sticking out of your pelvis everytime she bottoms out. “Ohhhhh, fuck me. Look at that, baby.” Her voice pulls you out of your trance, lulling your head up to look at what she was referring to. “Oh my God—” You choke up as she lifts a hand to press on it, “Bet that feels fuckin’ amazing, huh? Getting your guts dug in?”

You can hardly form a sentence, arching your back into the matress; she’s fucking you so good. “Yesss— fuck! S’good!”

“That’s what I like to hear.” She fucks you at a vigorous speed, beating into your g-spot with every thrust. “Cmon, sweetness. I wanna see your cum face.” She spits on your pussy again, taking her fingers and rubbing your clit, fast. “Cmon baby, let go f’me.”

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[arcanegifs]

ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: 2x07 - “Pretend Like It's the First Time” ↳ "Sorry sis. Someone's wigging out over his project and having an identity crisis again."

[setyset]