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fictionalsweethearts · 3 months ago

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CONVENIENTLY CLOSE | VI X READER | ARCANE

Synopsis: Seven years have not passed in vain, and the woman in front of you seems to be Vi's sign, but hardened by prison, stronger, taller, eager to live the lost years. And to see you again. Faced with old habits and the need for a place to lay low, Vi takes refuge in your apartment and stays conveniently close, maybe too close.

Contains: arcane!vi, feminine reader, lesbians, lots of arguments and dialogues, nsfw, explicit stuff, arcane universe, childhood friends, romance why not?, SESBIAN LEX

Word count: 6,780

Note: This fic was born from this bot which gave me juicy material to use here, part of the story arises from it, all credits to the creator!

Also, english is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake in my writing. Enjoy!

It happened in the blink of an eye, the fleeting eye contact, a chill running down your spine as you stopped to look again at who you thought was dead or gone. You paled like a ghost, barely taking a step before her arms were around you, and you let out a gasp.

You barely recognized the woman whose face buried in your neck; the toned arms, the network of tattoos on her arms, the gear on the side of her neck, the pronounced hairstyle and the piercings moved this Vi away from the one you once knew, seven years did not pass in vain and both had changed a lot, but the memories still endured. You wrapped her with doubtful arms, insecure but at the same time overwhelmed by the situation.

Your mind was flooded with memories the moment you dared to inhale the essence of her neck, that sweet aroma hidden behind the sweat and leather of her jacket, the same smell that crept into your nostrils on those afternoons on the couch, practicing boxing together, hiding in the alleys to avoid the poor victims of your pranks full of enthusiasm and malice. Of that last hug that morning, before the paths separated, life changed, Vander died and Zaun sank into chaos commanded by organized crime. Everything had changed but that hug brought you back to sweet adolescence for a few seconds, before you pulled away.

"For God's sake, you're... muscular." you murmured then, looking at the taller woman with attentive eyes.

"Is that a compliment or an insult?" Vi's hands start to roam, finding their way over your shoulders. A smile appeared on her lips, the same thought kept repeating in her mind 'it's her, it's her'.

"It's an statement."

You could barely form a question in the face of such a situation, your childhood friend returning from a seven-year disappearance to stand before you in all her glory, alive, healthy, certainly different but still her nonetheless. At your sudden silence, Vi giggled, patting your shoulder gently. "Long story. don't wanna talk about it just yet."

You nodded, studying the Vi who was once four inches shorter and scar-free, realizing that wherever she was, circumstances had hardened her. “You were in prison,” you said then, not as a question.

“Surprise, surprise,” Vi muttered sarcastically. “I wasn’t dead. And i'll spare you the gritty details, cause I didn't exactly break out. I served my sentence, somehow."

She'd always had a habit of being vague, even during your childhood years. She never answered your questions directly, and she never explained herself when she got into trouble. It frustrated you back then, and it's no different now. "Enough about me. you're gonna have to fill me in. it's been like, what? Seven years?"

"Wait, I-" you had to shake your head and take a breath, cause suddenly having Vi before you wasn't among your plans. You were still at the alley. "Can we... go somewhere else? Grab a drink, talk this out?"

For a moment, she looks like she might refuse. For a moment, you wonder if she'll duck away, the way she always did. But then Vi sighs softly and nods.

"Lead the way, then." she takes a step back, folding her arms behind her neck. "I'm not payin', though.”

Gathering your thoughts and whispering a 'what a night' under your breath, you begin to lead Vi through the backstreets of a Zaun she no longer knows, but you do. Jericho served a wonderful octopus stew, and Vi was able to verify it once again after so many years. You sipped your cocktail, watching the hungry girl in front of you devour the plate, the Zaun market maintained its usual flow of customers and workers, a swarm of smells and sizzling of embers, murmurs, knives and pans to the fire filled the place.

"Now. You better start explaining how did you break out jail." you said.

The question doesn't come as a surprise - Vi had been expecting it. She sighs, and her eyes flutter up to yours, trying to find the words, trying to find the right way to say it. "I didn't break out. I served my sentence." she can see your skepticism, your disbelief, and she adds: "I got parole. Good behavior. That kinda bullshit."

"Good behavior. You?" you scoff.

"Yeah yeah, I was a saint, believe it or not. Guess I had a change of heart, people grow and all that."

"And now you're out and hungry." you comment, watching Vi finish the bowl and let out a hint of a burp.

"You gotta admit, the food behind bars is not so good." Vi grins at you again, her eyes flickering to your drink. "And the drinks either, care to share?"

Vi takes the glass, wrapping the fingers of her free hand around the base. She stares at the liquid for a moment, then her gaze drifts to meet yours, she's thinking, a lot. "Seven years... seven years is a lot of goddamn time. Almost don't recognize ya. What've you been doing all this time?"

"Let's see…" you say, your eyes scanning the market as you gather up seven years of your existence and rank them in order of importance. "I have a job, I'm… an interpreter."

"A what?" she asks, raising a brow.

"I translate, dumbass."

"Oh, right right." Vi giggled. "You work for the pilties, do you?"

"Actually, yes. I get many academic texts to translate."

"Ah, a sneaky rat. No wonder you'd take any job," she snickers. "I'd almost feel betrayed if you said you never went back to your old life of stealing and pickpocketing."

"I realized I couldn't lean on crime forever." you shrug. "Languages fits me better."

Catching up had never felt so necessary. Vi had undergone a true metamorphosis in prison, a wild flower torn from its roots and still able to cling to life with minimal water, in hostile, dry, cold soil. Now she was outside, eager to feel the putrid Zaun air against her skin, no matter how foul-smelling it was, to continue a life that hadn’t even begun yet. Yet it was the means that worried you.

"What's your plan?" you asked after a short moment of silence. "Now that you're out."

"Well, I gotta lay low for a while. They ain't gonna be lookin' for me out in the streets, but that don't mean I should be causin' trouble." her lips pull into a small smirk, as her eyes flicker to you. "Maybe I'll start robbin' the rich and givin' the profits to those in need. Or something like that."

"You'll get yourself in prison all over again." you said, rolling your eyes.

"What, you think I need you to lecture me, mother?" Vi's mocking tone couldn't help but annoy you. Again with that blind confidence and smug smile, hasn't changed one bit.

"Where are you staying?" you asked, sipping your drink which suddenly tasted bitter.

"Don't have a place. Can't exactly go back to my old apartment, for obvious reasons." her expression shifts into a smirk, a gleam of an idea passing her eyes. "Why? You offering a place to crash?"

"Huh, figured out so. You don't have a goddamn place to crash and still you intend to start robbing again?"

"It's not robbing, it's just taking something that some rich snob doesn't even need. Besides, I'll manage, alright?"

The conversation wasn’t going in the direction you expected, a sour feeling settling in your stomach as you recognized an old pattern that the years had accentuated in Vi; her stubbornness. It was one thing to be happy for an old friend who had gotten out of prison, but it was quite another to still believe that crime was a way of life and support that. And you were sick of that shit.

"I gotta go." you said, laying a bill on the table. "I have a paper to submit due tomorrow."

Vi's expression changed to as if she had been slapped. “Hey, I thought we were catching up. Where the hell are you going in such a hurry?”

"I'm happy for you, Vi, but I'm not who I used to be anymore. And neither should you be." you say, your tone so sober that Vi thought you were pulling her leg until she saw you get up from your seat and start walking away. Vi scowls and grabs the bill you left on the table, crumpling it up in her hand.

"Damnit."

Zaun had changed. It was no longer the fragile balance between misery and hope, but an overwhelming network of crime, wrapped in the growing business of Shimmer and prostitution and the certain tacit anarchy that ruled its existence. Vi needed a few days to get used to it, to recognize the city that saw her grow up and find a way to make her way through that melodious chaos. Crime had evolved, the presence of enforcers was increasingly scarce, which gave way to more aggressive, more experienced, more ingenious criminals when it came to benefiting from the few assets of the rest. In Zaun there were no rich people, only the owners of manufacturing factories, who pulled the strings and commanded drug trafficking, who could not be counted on more than one hand's fingers. However, Vi was not going to allow herself to feel strange in the city she called home, not before playing her cards and making her way into the market she knew best apart from crime: fights. With raw confidence and the certainty that seven years of training behind closed doors had given her the skills to hold her own in the ring, Vi went to the Pit and signed up for one of the night's matches. The result? A downcast and barely alive opponent, Vi claimed a spot she didn't intend to give up, and a bag full of coins. She felt right at home.

It took her three days to make a small fortune, yet her name was frequently whispered and attracted unwanted attention, putting her in a position where she had to remain low for a few days. She could keep that up long enough to make a living after seven years in confinement, but to do so she needed the hospitality and goodwill of someone in particular; you. You assumed Vi wouldn't incur in invading your precious privacy, but that wasn't the case. Not when, working on one of your latest translations, in the quiet of your apartment just a couple of blocks from the red-light district, you felt the fleeting passing of a shadow in front of the window and your alarms went off.

She had to admit, you'd picked yourself a nice little spot to settle down in. Vi could have sworn you would have moved to Piltover, after hearing about your choice of profession, but here you were, all cozy in a fancy apartment in Zaun. She couldn't be sure it was exactly safe, but you probably had ways to deal with that. A couple hours of lurking around in the shadows, and she found herself outside of your apartment window, looking in. Vi takes a moment to study the view through the window, observing your movements inside. She should probably announce her presence, but she can't help the little thrill that comes from the thought of spooking you.

Believing herself undetected, Vi stepped into the house while investigating what she thought was your office. A room cradled with an aesthetic chaos of shelves, books and plants, a kitten sleeping by the window, very self-absorbed in his feline dreams to recognize a strange smell in his safe space. But you certainly had better instincts than Pepper.

"Stop there or I'll blow your fucking head." you stated, holding a gun against Vi's head, not even recognizing her in the darkness of the room.

Vi's eyes widen as you suddenly speak, the cold metal of the gun pressing against her skin. She raises both hands in a small surrendering gesture.

"Woah, woah! Easy, doll, it's just me."

You remove the gun from her temple, realizing that it was Vi and not another petty thief. "For god's sake." you grumbled, putting the pistol down and turning the lights on. You were in your pajamas, messy hair and still glasses on from working for hours. "What the hell are you doing by breaking into my place?"

She responds to your question with a dismissive shrug. "I need a place to crash, darling."

"Oh, fuck off." you spat, quickly walking towards the desk to put the gun into the drawer again. Pepper woke up with a hiss, just then realizing a intruder was inside. He bristled. "Why would I? You got yourself in trouble, don't you?"

"Technically not trouble. At least, not yet." she glances down at the hissing ball of fur on the floor, and scowls. "You got a damn cat. Of course you do."

She averts your gaze, shifting awkwardly. "I need a place to crash. at least for the night. My place from... before ain't exactly available to me right now."

You can't help but let out a sarcastic laugh, holding your hands akimbo. "I can't afford to have tenants, you know? Especially not the troublesome ones."

"I ain't a tenant, I'm just asking for a sofa to sleep on for one night. It's not a big deal." insists Vi, her tone softening, just like her eyes. Gosh, no, not that look.

When it comes to Vi, you resistance diminished. It was the years of friendship perhaps, or the fact that this ex-convict with deep eyes and attractive bearing softened something inside you, but to tell her 'no' has been always difficult. Even now.

"Just for tonight?" you asked, as Pepper descended from his pedestal to sniff the boots of this new guest. He didn't liked what he smelled.

"Yeah, just for tonight." she hesitates for a moment, before a small smirk spreads across her face. "Unless you have a queen-size bed that I could fit in instead."

"You'd wish." you grunted.

While you were looking for a blanket for this unplanned guest, Vi studied the room she was in. Apart from the academic chaos that surrounded the desk, the rest of the room was tidy and harmonious. In front of the plum-colored sofa, there was a coffee table, on it a couple of books and a candle, along with what Vi soon recognized as a stash. The candle catches her attention for a moment, and her gaze flicks to the small pipe sitting on the coffee table. Interesting. definitely not the doll I remember.

Behind her, a large shelf stood, next to a series of windows that allowed the moon to sneak in, in addition to Pepper's pedestal, fluffy and scratched. The room was composed of green, purple and orange tones, the string of lights hanging from the ceiling gave it a cozy and calm air.

"Here." you said, handing Vi the blanket.

"Thanks." she mumbles.

"Stay away from my stuff, you hear me? And the booze as well, you drunkie."

A small scoff escaped her lips once you closed the door, and she shifts under the blanket, getting comfortable. She takes a moment, before her gaze drifts over towards Pepper.

"Watcha glaring at, ya little shit." She mutters, the corner of her mouth curving up again.

Vi didn't want to abuse your trust, but she couldn't help but inspect the privacy of your office the next morning. Her desk was really a source of curiosity for her, with that amount of trinkets, sheets, books and notes. The carnivorous plant next to them seemed to be watching her, as if she wanted to bite her finger off if Vi dared to sniff through the drawers. But she was an ex-convict and that was a fucking plant.

Inside the drawers were spread documents and bills, you earned quite well for translation, and many orders came from the science district in Piltover, or failing that, from the shimmer factories in Zaun. You made no distinctions, you just worked. This could not help but annoy Vi a little, working for drug producers was certainly not ethical, but a woman like her had no right to talk about ethics either.

Pepper's hiss took her out of her thoughts, the gray cat looked at her with the disdain and suspicion of a human. As if he knew of her past mistakes, of the fact that she turned to crime from a young age, that she was unable to protect Powder when she needed it most, that as soon as she got out of prison her life seemed to point to repeating the same pattern of crime she had grown up with. But Vi had to be wiser this time, play her cards right, break a cycle she was too accustomed to. She let out a sigh, grabbing her jacket before she left the apartment through the window.

Vi was a silent visitor during the nights, she preferred not to bother you since she knew that her ability to stay on the couch depended on the owner's mood, but you also didn't admit that you were starting to get used to and even wish for the presence of the pink-haired woman at home. First there were brief conversations under the cover of night, then a shared cigarette and an improvised dinner, then it was talking about aspirations and fears. Suddenly Vi felt as close as when you were both fifteen. But mischief no longer appeared as the main act of your interactions, but something else that certainly felt different, an unknown spark that was missing before and that made Vi so pleasant to look at.

Days went by, she came brusied and exhausted from her fights to just crash on the sofa and sleep her pain away. It's been two months with such dynamic and you accepted it.

Vi shifted on the couch, an unusual weight on her stomach saying good morning to her and soon, with sunlight filtering through the curtains, Pepper let out a feline complaint. The cat rested on Vi, naturally comfortable after so many visits from her. Sitting up, Vi studied the room and was surprised to see a lump lying on the desk in front of the couch, you had been up late working again.

“She’s going to work herself to death at this point.” Vi muttered, carefully pushing Pepper off her lap and heading to the desk. Vi knew about the constant commissions that rained down in a never-ending stream of work, but she’d also seen you falling asleep during the day, forgetting to eat, and the dark furrow under your eyes worsening. The woman sighed, gently pushing you off the surface to lift you up with ease, carrying you to your room. You mumbled something along the way, ineligible but akin to a complaint that did nothing but amuse Vi.

As your back hit the soft surface of the bed, your hands sought out Vi’s, pulling her along with you. The woman was initially taken aback by this sudden display of affection, you weren’t one to hug or seek contact, but you looked sick and tired and she couldn’t say no to a person in that condition. She snuggled up to you, running a calloused but gentle hand up your arm, burying her fingers in the strands of your hair. "You really ain't taking care of yourself, cupcake." mumbles Vi, cupping your cheek as her thumb gently stroked your nose.

And at the sight of you, your haggard face against the mattress, the sun streaming through the window and outlining your huddled figure, Vi found a new purpose, someone to protect. And as soon as you fell asleep, she got up, put on her jacket and headed to the only place she knew for sure would allow her to make some quick money.

“Black?” you asked, only a month later, holding the small bottle of black dye as Vi wet her hair in the sink. If Vi understood anything about street fighting, it was that a character was the best way to get the public’s attention, the attention turning into bets and the bets into money. For several weeks now, Violet had been arriving at the apartment late at night, bruised, exhausted and with a small bag of coins in her pocket. “For you, doll” the woman would murmur, barely taking the time to kick off her boots before landing on the couch and falling asleep. At first you thought it was just another risky business Vi was getting into, but after a couple of weeks you realized that the name “Vi” was whispered among the alleys and the market, and that she carried the title of undefeated for more than five matches in a row. She was a champion, no doubt about it, and the beneifts from her profession meant more support for household expenses. Suddenly Vi had become your partner, and all she asked in return was a good talk and for you to heal her wounds. And certainly you would do so.

A smirk crept over her lips at the sight of the bottle resting in your hands. "Yeah, black. I'm sick of standin' out. The pink's too bright." her eyes flick to you again, a mischievous look in them. "You're gonna help me out, right? I don't wanna make a mess of myself while trying to do it alone."

You looked at the little bottle of dye and then at Vi, knowing that once she gets an idea inside her head, nothing can erase it unless she tries it. You sighed. "Sit down," you said at last, reaching for the plastic gloves and the cup in the cabinet.

It took you a good hour, but together, you both managed to dye her long pink hair a dark, natural black. Vi's face had hardened, her scars and freckles seeming to stand out against her dark hair. It was then that, in the face of a silence that spoke volumes, Vi was the one to dare to say the first word. "Gotta say, doll. You did a good job."

"You look like you fell into a pool of oil." you said, clearly disapproving of the new look. Even Pepper, who stepped into the bathroom, hissed at Vi.

"Ah, so even the goddamn cat's against me now, eh?" she asked, making you let out a chuckle. The dye wasn't the only thing that changed Vi's appearance, she left the striped pants and red jacket at home, getting herself tight jeans, ripped at the knees, leather boots, a jacket of the same material, provided with gold studs and the print of a two-headed wolf on the back and covering her bust, bandages wrapped tightly. She looked almost unrecognizable, intimidating. Watching her grab her bag and head for the door that night, you couldn't help but feel anxious and think of the worst case scenarios.

You let out a sharp sigh and spoke up. "Vi, wait. You don't have to keep doing this, y'know? Fighting. I'm sure we can find another way."

Vi frowns at your words, her grip on the doorknob tightening.

"Nah, don't start with that." Her eyes narrow slightly, a touch of defensiveness in her voice. "I've always fought, y'know? it's what I'm good at. I don't know anything else."

"I don't want you to get hurt." you insisted, stepping closer.

"I know how to take care of myself, dollface. I'm not some weak little kid anymore." her voice is a little gruff as she tries to deflect the concern.

"You've never been weak..." you mutter, your expression softening as Vi hovered closer. "But you're not invincible neither."

"Yeah, well, who is invincible?" she takes a step closer, closing the distance between you. her eyes dart across your face, searching for something. "You worry about me too much, cupcake."

"You'd like me to not give a shit about you?" you inquire, looking into Vi's eyes.

she scoffed. "Yeah, i'd like to see you try." her eyes flicker across your face again as her thumb briefly brushes over your chin. A moment of silence passes between you, the room feeling almost charged as the two of you stare at each other intently.

Her proximity was electrifying, the smell of hair dye and grease filling your nostrils, her firm yet gentle hand on your chin preventing you from looking away, your field of vision dominated by her, by her light blue eyes, her scar on her upper lip and eyebrow, her straight eyebrows, her messy makeup, her dark lips. "I couldn't stop worrying, Vi. Even if I tried to." you whisper at last.

"Yeah, probably." she mutters, her voice a hoarse whisper. You let out a gasp as Vi leaned in to kiss you, a simple, almost shy kiss, but capable of wreaking such havoc on your insides that your heart began to pound.

She captures your mouth in a gentle kiss, her lips moving against yours slowly, almost tentatively, as if she was testing the waters. When you gasp in response, she deepens the kiss, her hand on your face moving to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. Her other hand moves to rest on your hip, pulling you a little closer as you feel your skin burning with an unexpected thrill. But you find yourself pulling back, a hand against Vi's chest.

"No." you whisper, exasparated, overwhelmed, as Vi's breath brushes your lips.

"No?" she repeats, her voice cracking slightly. Her hand remains tangled in your hair, the other still lingering on your hip, its grip having tightened. "You don't want me to keep going?"

"We shouldn't..." you weakly whisper. It wasn't just the kiss, it was about kissing a woman, and that woman being your lifelong friend. How much were you risking by crossing that line and delving into the taste of her lips and the firmness of her hands? God, you could barely explain it to yourself.

She pauses at your words, her grip on your hip loosening as she processes the conflicted look in your eyes. Her gaze drifts across your face, taking in every detail, as if trying to read your thoughts.

"Y'know..." a brief silence stretches between you, the only sound being the faint hum of the city outside the window. "We can stop... if you want."

Her hand slowly falls from your hip, and she takes a measured breath as she steps back, putting a short distance between the two of you.

You feel her slip away from you, backing away as a look of disappointment settles on her face and the glow of desire fades. You swallow. "I've never kissed a girl." you suddenly confess.

She runs a hand through her dark hair, visibly processing this new information. There's a moment of tense silence before she speaks again, letting out a huff. "I figured out so."

Your eyes widened, watching Vi taking a step back towards the door. "I should get going, there's a match I have to win." she says, leaving the apartment, leaving you confused, almost upset.

During Vi's absence, you couldn't find anything to distract you. As soon as you sat down for a moment to rest after feeding Pepper, tidying the living room, doing the laundry, heating up dinner or taking a shower, the touch of her lips flooded your senses and produced an almost unknown tingle in your belly. The smell of her skin, the gentleness with which her hand settled on your hip and pulled you against her. You couldn't stop replaying the scene, with some uncertainty if you were allowed to think that way about a childhood friend, or a woman. You only found some peace once you fell asleep that night, in the wee hours of the morning you felt an extra weight on the bed with you, an arm around your waist and an "I'm home, cupcake."

The next morning, you found the space next to you empty. You assumed Vi had fallen asleep on the couch, but her boots beside the bed and her jacket on your dresser said otherwise. You got up, hearing Pepper meowing in hunger from the kitchen. You barely noticed the overflowing bag of money on the coffee table or the sound of the shower running, only sleepwalking into the kitchen to feed the hungry cat. With the animal crouched before its bowl, you poured yourself a glass of water and only then turned back to the coffee table. “I told you I had a fight to win,” Vi said from behind you, watching you count the coins and bills in shock. The woman stood by the door, her hair still damp and a not-so-disguisable cut across the bridge of her nose, eyebrow, and cheek. “This is a bunch of money.” you muttered, studying the woman before you.

"Bets paid good last night." she nonchalantly replied, coming closer as she ignored the money. You were the center of her attention then, you and your robe. "I want you to take a break, alright? From your job."

"A break?" you asked, Vi's sincere smile speaking volumes.

"Yeah, for a while." she reached out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, her touch surprisingly gentle. "You work too much."

Your expression softened, noticing the sweet gentleness which Vi treated you, how tender her eyes were at that moment. You couldn't help but lean against her touch. "About last night..."

Her hand cups your chin, her thumb gently grazing over your bottom lip. "You don't regret it, do you?" her voice is hoarse and low. Beneath her confident façade, there’s a hint of vulnerability in her eyes, a subtle fear that you’ll reject her.

"No." despite the inner turmoil, you couldn't regret it, not when you wanted more.

Relief flickers across her face, and that cocky smirk returns to her lips. "Good." her hand cups the side of your face, fingers lightly brushing across your skin, and she leans in to whisper against your lips. "Cause I’m gonna kiss you again."

This time it wasn't a fearful kiss, but deep and ambitious from the first moment, Vi pulling you against her and wrapping her lips around yours with a soft moan that only served to ignite a timid flame of desire that now sought to become a fire. You closed your eyes and dared to hold her cheek, testing a terrain unknown to you but dominated by her. She wanted to be gentle with you, to ease you into this new terrain, but her desire for you overpowered her self-restraint and the kiss quickly turned hungry and greedy.

"Please, just..." she whispered against your lips, a hand sneaking underneath your robe to grasp your waist. "Let's sit down."

Vi landed on the couch, pulling you closer until you were straddling her, taking possession of the back of your neck to pull you into another kiss. You moaned against her lips, savoring every sensation as if it were a dish you’d never tried before but surprisingly tasted delightful and addictive. Vi smelled like shampoo, her lips were soft and her hands were calloused but gentle. One of them ran down your spine over your robe, and you stepped back to quickly remove it.

She kissed your neck, running gentle palms up the expanse of your neck and chest, shyly cupping one of your breasts before you pulled away to look at her. She understood the approval in your eyes, bringing her hands behind your thighs to hoist your hips so your chest faced her. You let out a sigh at the wetness of her mouth enveloping your nipple, a gentle, tentative suck that made you clench in a new way. “Fuck…” you moaned, at the same time as their hands massaged your buttocks and dared to slap them.

"I was waiting for you to start swearing." she whispered against your tits, one of her hands running along your spine before you felt the urge for more.

Your ass landed again, this time Vi’s knee between your legs as she kissed you again. You wanted more, you wanted to know what else could be offered by a woman whose experiences had hardened her character but were unable to sour her kisses and moans. Vi still had so much love to offer, and you knew she loved you, every action, every look said it. The way she made you breakfast while you dealt with endless loads of work at your desk said it, her banal conversations that sought to lift your spirits said it, her hands holding you as if you were physically a necessity said it, the bags of money resting on the table said it, and her bruises from brutal fights where her main motivation was you, said it. Vi always loved you, but it was only a matter of time before you realized it was a romantic affection, not a friendly one.

You were exasperated, your hips rocking as Vi pressed her knee into your core, a delicious friction that produced a pleasant, addictive tingle, your wetness speaking for itself. Vi gripped your waist tightly, setting the pace, watching you with attentive eyes and parted lips. You found yourself moaning against her lips, kissing her in fits and starts before you had to pull back for more. "You're so pretty." she whispered.

You leaned in for another kiss, before your hands went down to pull Vi's top off. The contrast was clear, Vi standing out for her muscles and roughness, the network of tattoos on her arms and back capturing your attention for a moment before you ran a hand over her chest. Discreet glances spoke, and the moans that indicated something was going (very) right. Vi patted your thigh before you withdrew from her lap, sliding your panties down gently as she placed a trail of kisses from your hip to your knee.

You felt self-conscious, Vi’s gaze seemed to take in every last detail of your body, from the bones of your hips, to your navel, to the pubic hair that covered your crotch. But your insecurity had no place in the eyes of a woman who simply wanted you for being you. “Don’t give me that look, you’re gorgeous.” She smiled, her hand settling between your legs as she probed your wetness. “Shh… just checking.” She whispered, her thumb gently circling your clit. “Does that feel good?”

"Yes..." you moaned, the suggestive wet noises making you shiver. "Really good." you spread your legs wider, giving Vi the consent to continue further.

You lifted one knee onto the couch as a finger gently entered and curled towards the nearest wall of your insides, giving you a sweet tickle. Vi studied your expressions, the way your breathing quickened and your hands rested on her shoulders for support.

"You're so soft..." she murmured, her own breathing labored as she continued to watch your expressions closely, seeking any sign of discomfort. "Tell me if it hurts." her free hand lightly stroked your thigh, a gesture of reassurance while she checked on you constantly, realizing your reaction came from sole pleasure and not pain at all. Soon enough she eased a second finger and a sigh escaped her lips as she felt you clenching around her.

"That's it..." she muttered against your mouth as she leaned in to kiss you, her fingers slowly working in and out of you. Her touch was gentle but firm, as if she was being careful not to hurt you.

Your knees threatened to buckle, the constant motion inside you awakened nerve endings you thought were inert, Vi’s ears searching to pick up your every grunt and moan. Her breathing quickened, before she let out a hiss and pulled her fingers away. A quiet whine escaped your lips and she took a moment to catch her breath. "Sorry... just a sec..."

Vi stood up from the couch, cupping the back of your neck to give you another kiss before gently motioning for you to lie down. "Lay back for me, cupcake." she whispered, finding a way between your legs as she trailed a way of kisses from your chest to your groin. There was a certain urgency to Vi's movements, a desire that made her breathing quicken and her fingers squeeze the flesh of your thighs as she parted them, skipping the main course in favor of running her tongue along the inside of your thighs, placing brief kisses and bites that allowed the blood to flow to your core, awakening your muscles, making you desperate for relief.

"Please."

"Shh, I've got you." she whispered against your skin, her voice a low and sultry rumble, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your inner thighs. "Patience."

You leaned your head back, eyes closing at the wet feel of her tongue as it ran up and down your core. She kept one hand firmly on your hip, the other on your thigh as she kept it apart. You moaned, looking down into a pair of lustful, delighted eyes, her mouth covering your folds, sucking and alternating with the tip of her tongue. Watching you, studying your pleasure, relishing on your sweet whimpers. “Fuck.” You moaned, your hips bucking slightly in search of more contact.

Vi's tongue worked you slowly and deliberately, mapping every inch of your core with a mixture of delicacy and desire. She released your hip and brought her hand up to your chest, her fingers finding your nipple and giving it a firm pinch. "That's it, just feel it..."

Her hand kneaded your breast as her tongue circled your clit, unashamed to make wet, suggestive sounds, to moan against your folds and to stop and look at you from time to time. She smiled, you looked splendid, needy but at the same time pleased, your cheeks slightly rosy, your lips parted, letting out moans and light gasps.

"Breathe, cupcake. I wouldn't want you to hyperventilate," she said mischievously, sticking her tongue out to deliver a long lick along the length of your core.

"Easy for you to say..." you panted, trying to catch your breath. Your mind was spinning, your body aching and desperate. But Vi had something else in mind, a way to drive you to the edge.

“Take a breath.” she whispered, pulling her mouth from between your legs to settle on her knees. “Look at me.” Vi caressed your thighs and moistened her ring and middle fingers with her mouth as you forced yourself to inhale and not exhale gasps of anticipation. Suddenly you felt her hand cup your chin, pulling you in for a kiss. You rested on your forearms behind your back as she inserted both of your fingers, twisting them in a specific motion that managed to draw a muffled whimper from you. It was sparkling, sweet, precise, and in the perfect spot. "Goddamn..." you whined.

"I know." Vi chuckled, kissing you again as the throes of an orgasm built in your lower belly and made your legs tense. "I know, pretty."

You reached a point where your thoughts were cut off, each and every one of them about Vi, her lips against yours, her fingers inside, curling and keeping a steady rhythm that did nothing but lead you down the right path to orgasm. You moaned into her mouth, pulling away to breathe once an electric wave shook every fiber of your body and your legs locked in an involuntary spasm. Vi rested her forehead against your chest, placing soft kisses as your arms cradled her head, yearning to be close to the person who was able to make you come so hard. Vi smiled, studying the way the pleasure settled into your muscles and your arms slackened.

"Good, babe, good..." she whispered, taking a look of your teary eyes before you pulled her to kiss her deeply.

You stared at the ceiling, the sun streaming through the window as your hands ran through Vi’s thick hair. You missed the pink, the dull black hardened her face too much. The boxer sighed, also processing the fact that she had just had sex with you and it had been wonderful from start to finish. This peace was new, it wasn’t temporary or fragile, it was latent, substantial, tangible. It was as if Vi had spent twenty-three years of her life searching for the calm that only lying on your chest gave her, and she couldn’t help but feel genuinely happy and satisfied. This is what life is about, not just surviving, but breaking down defenses and forgetting for a moment about being the strong one. You kissed her crown, Pepper climbed on the sofa and curled up between your feet and Vi's, purring calmly, like a lullaby.

"Looks like Pepper has finally accepted you." you whispered, making Vi lift her face.

"It was damn time. Just like her mom, stubborn as hell." she agreed, looking at the cat briefly before she nuzzled against your chest again. "He better get used to it, cause I ain't leaving your side anytime soon."

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myrruwrites · 2 months ago

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"Dinner party" | Vamp!Teen!Vi x Fem!reader

Pairing: Vamp!Teen!Violet x Human!Fem!Reader. | CW: Suggestive? not too much. they’re still young after all. Blood & Vampire feeding obv. Cursing. | Vi needs you while she’s trying to learn how to rein in her instincts. | WC; 706 | CC; 3.9K

You’re contemplating what to wear to the outing tonight, your fingers carding through your wardrobe. You settle on something simple, shorts and a baggy tee. I mean, you don’t want to overthink it, might as-well go for a casual choice. Vander had invited you over, as you’re Vi’s closest friend. You’ve been best friends ever since you were younger, inseparable almost. No one could get you to stop hanging out, even when you caused trouble together. Grounded? You’d just sneak out to the other’s house. It was second nature at this point. Although, at this dinner you won’t be the only guest. Vi’s brothers and sister will also have friends over. You’re not usually keen on big get togethers, but you make the effort to go, for Vi.

As you arrive, you notice a few boys already at the door, speaking to Vander and heading inside. You recognise them from school; though you’ve never spoken to them apart from maybe asking to borrow a pen. You assume they’re Mylo and Claggor’s friends, taking a deep breath to steel yourself. Why are you afraid? That’s stupid. This place is essentially your second home. Cmon, snap out of it! You are in-fact, snapped out of it, as you notice Vi in the doorway, in a passionate discussion with Vander. Your expression softens as you realise the boys must’ve already slipped past him, and you stroll up to the door. "Hello, Mr Vander" you say softly. "Just Vander is fine, I’ve been telling you that for ages. Really, any friend of Vi’s can just call me Vander." He corrects and you hastily nod. You would’ve spent more time hanging around, talking to those around you, but before you can process anything, Vi is already grabbing your wrist and pulling you into her room.

Before you can even realise what’s happening, you’re met with Vi’s piercing stare. She’s managed to climb onto your lap, holding you still with her weight, although she’s careful not to hurt you. Fuck, what is she doing? You expect her to stop, to climb off, or atleast speak. But she just sits there. She’s just sat there, panting softly as if trying to catch her breath. You feel the air around you become heavier, an undercurrent of tension surrounding you that wasn’t there before. It’s subtle, but noticeable. Vi’s face is inching closer, her heartbeat racing, you can hear it. Her warm breath fanning your face, making a shiver run up your spine. You can’t help but think.. is she actually going to kiss you? Is it really happening?

Your thought process is cut off by the feeling of a sudden 'prick' in your neck, you feel a warm liquid seep down. Oh! Oh. Vi buried her face in your neck, not that you mind. Infact, you tilt your head to the side, embracing the burning feeling her fangs give you as they draw blood. This had never happened before, Vi had never even gotten close to loosing control, this is new. Even though you’ve always been aware Vi was from a vampire lineage, you had never expected to be in such a position. Vi’s knee between your legs as she’s ontop of you, her face buried in your neck, albeit fangs too, but still. You can hear her breathing begin to calm, returning back to normal as she slowly drinks. She’s almost.. gentle. Gentle is a foreign concept for Vi, it’s always been as though she didn’t know what the word even meant. Though, maybe that was just her being a traditional reckless teen. This.. this was different. She was actively trying to keep you safe, keep you comfortable. You can’t help but let out a slight whimper at the compromising position mixed with the strange sensation filling your neck and chest. The noise causes Vi to still, pulling back slightly. "Did you just..?" She murmurs. Your face turns pink, and in a last attempt to void her seeing you all flustered, you gently push her head back towards your neck. "..shut up," you respond sharply, though there’s no real aggression in your tone. You feel her sink her teeth back in, relaxing into your touch again. Yeah, you could get used to this.

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mihii-i · 29 days ago

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sanctuary.

Pairings: vi x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, self destructive habits mentioned, alcoholism, vi’s trauma, reader is vi’s best friend (again, GO READ PART 1.), friends to lovers, girls kissing this isn’t even a silly warning anymore cause whys there a rise in homophobes, emo vi yes she’s hot but I was lowkey scared at first, mmm angst very yummy, ouuu this is turning out good okay, violence, idk what other warnings to put, caitvi not working out in this fic’s course of events, gay gay homosexual gay, not proofread.

A/N: now playing: head over heels by gunboikaz—here’s the lil surprise I was edging yall for ong- collab fic with @kadriss-loves-gifflars please go read part 1 on her page, yes it is mandatory cause this fic is a part 2 to that. Anyway I guess this was my little way of jumping out of saying that I’m writing for arcane now so yippee 🕯️

“Don’t thank me, it’s what I want to do for you.”

Those words rolled off of your tongue in a timeless, slow sentiment, accompanying your ardent embrace you enveloped Vi in as if you never wanted to detach yourself from the woman hemmed between your arms. Breath fanning against her soaked shoulder, you took the initiative to briefly thumb along the drenched fabric stuck to her skin in comforting, circular motions. Easing Vi into your touch as you attempted to outline her masked tattoos through the fabric as best as you could remember.

Each shaky breath quivering against her lower lip only allowed her to pathetically wallow in the small sliver of solace in your warmth, clinging onto the simple sentence of consolation you had provided her like a lifeline while fighting back the sting of her tears threatening to circle back and spill.

She weakly attempted to push back the fleeting moments of adoration that remained burned into her skull, every time that wave of dizziness latched onto her temples and seeped across every little crevice of her head whenever she reminisced on Caitlyn’s features, staring her down ever since that awful day where she groveled at her feet in tears.

It truly was too much for her. Torn down on countless occasions with nothing but the awful stab of guilt and regret, eating away at her alongside the twist of every set of knuckles burying into her gut, drives of pain endured from her beatings in Stillwater gradually ripping away her sanity along with it over the years. Vi’s motivation had tensed and wavered along a thin string of stability she had dug into the thick earth of her breaking soul, being dragged away from both her younger sister and her best friend, left to wonder what became of them as they were alone…seperated.

Punches upon punches cracked along the rugged stone splayed along the cell walls filling the numbing void within her that swallowed her whole. The two people she had loved wholeheartedly either lingering within the sharp outcome of death, or something possibly worse. Although Vi had always hoped that the former wouldn’t become of you both, praying to herself that she wouldn’t have to stumble upon either yours or Powder’s corpse whenever she was able to bust out of prison—it was undeniable that death would’ve been the more merciful option for the two of you in said circumstances.

Strangely enough, Caitlyn’s presence remedied the sickening ailment that split her in half, being able to slowly piece back together the person Vi once was. The one that she had been stripped of in the hellfire of her waning sanity in the Stillwater Hold. It was ironic, really. The seeds of her pain and suffering where rooted in the causes of enforcers, who reduced her feeling of any security drowned into heaping piles of gravel making up the post rubble of battle.

However the woman who had healed that ache, touched her heart in a way was none other than an enforcer herself, supposed to be draped clad in her armor from head to toe like the rest, yet her soft features as a mural of her humanity were able to pull Vi in, like the calm to a storm, soothing the hurt swirling within her chest.

Perhaps that irony could now be shot down, considering the current situation at hand. Or rather, in your arms. The very source of this newfound pain Vi was drowning herself in, was indeed that same enforcer. Digging herself into the pits of her self destructive habits slowly chipped away at her identity, leaving her to question who she truly was in the midst of the thudding maelstrom her emotions conjured up.

“Vi? You feeling okay now?” You inquired in a soft murmur, the showers of rain continuously pattering against the ground outside both heightening and easing Vi’s anxiety in a mind breaking juxtaposition. Your voice however, no doubt was a remedy to her pain, the tip of her nose brushing against your neck once more as her eyes glued shut. Her hold on you remained firm as she tried to calm herself in the moral quandary of what she had became, attempting to suppress those rising feelings of abhorrence that consumed her whole.

Vi simply shook her head in response to your question, choking back the light sniffles that threatened to gag out themselves. The freezing steel of her nose ring continued to collide flush against your already frigid throat, thin drops of water dribbling down your chin as you somber expression remained fixed on your best friend’s ruined form.

Dull streaks of black paint smudged along the dusted skin of your arm, taking in the vile tar smudged along her face to mask the tattoo of her own name engraved deep onto her cheek. It was quite hard to tell from the way she remained silent in your arms, had she truly lost herself altogether? You could only do nothing but ponder if the Vi you had once knew had dissipated into a mere memory lingering in the back of your head.

Every hit. Every scream, each downed bottle of alcohol was disturbingly clear in your head. Tracing back on the times you in fact watch Vi lose herself right before your eyes, unfolding into a self destructive flurry that circled back on and on in a seemingly unending routine. Clatters of coins pebbling to the ground at your feet as she continued throwing hook after hook at her opponent, along with steel alcohol cups colliding against each other with erupted cheers among the crowd was nothing short of sickening for you.

God, why couldn’t you see earlier how bad this really was?

You were a shitty friend for being unable to stop her.

Frequently, you’d have an arm slung over her wasted form, the reeking scent of alcohol emanating from her soiled lips in shallow breaths. Often times even having to treat her bloodied self as you spent several minutes cleaning and patching up her wounds.

“Why are you still here?”

She finally croaked out, her voice hoarse and shaky. You replied with a shrug, retracting your head before giving her exposed shoulders a gentle squeeze.

“Probably cause the woman I was best friends with was nowhere to be seen for seven years? I knew that once I saw you again, I wouldn’t let go again. Not for a second.”

“You’re oddly stubborn aren’t you?”

Her brief laugh was mixed in with a hint of a scoff, disbelieving of the fact that you’d go to such lengths for someone like her.

“Maybe I am. What about it? I care about you, Vi. I thought that much was obvious.”

You paused, a hint of a tiny smile crossing your lips in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Also, you’re getting that paint all over me.”

Before she could back away as a subtle apology, you swiftly grasped her calloused fingertips between yours, gently tracing your thumb against the crimson lumps of her knuckles through the wrapping of the bandaging. Expression residing in a woeful sting, you carefully observed the battered injuries protruding through the dirty white lining, a grim reminder of the turmoil she had suffered at the disheartening experiences of both her sister and—now ex-girlfriend is what you supposed you could call her.

“You’re strong, Vi. You’ve got a good heart, and I’m proud of you for being able to endure this.”

A brief flicker of that fluffy tenderness returned for a split second to mist over her eyes, both your scent and touch occupying every sense in her body to block out the dizzying whiff of alcohol, alongside the trashy odor of the crappy room she found herself laying in to cope with her grief.

You. Her best friend. You were able to keep yourself anchored to her like an angel looking out for her best needs, keeping an arm around her even when she batted it away. She was truly greatful to you.

But was she supposed to be feeling this for her best friend? Especially after she had gotten all mopey over Cait to the point where she was in every sight of hers. Fuck, was this how Jinx felt every waking moment of the day?

Despite the presence of Caitlyn in her life, Vi couldn’t help but feel the pressure of her affection toward you clenching her heart like the cut of a thin string, the twinge of guilt quickly being replaced with the manner in which you entranced her with a magnetic attraction. She wasn’t supposed to, but perhaps she imagined what life would be like with you if Caitlyn didn’t steal her heart first, picturing the impossibly perfect life of residing on peace with your head nuzzled to her shoulder.

Vi felt safe whenever you were so much as seated beside her, basking in the comfort of your enchanting presence even if you were doing nothing but staring off into space in exhaustion. The comfort of her best friend was her sanctuary where she could escape the struggles of this battle ridden life, balanced on an imbalance of chewing off scraps and living in luxury among the duality of both Zaun and Piltover.

That feeling only amplified upon feeling your palm caress her tar stained cheek, tilting her head to face you directly as her eyes fixated on your piercing glare of fondness. Eyes boring into yours, Vi really couldn’t tell what came over her as she strung her fingers into the back of your thin locks, digging them to massage along your scalp as her lips gnawed at yours hopelessly in desperation.

She was about to withdraw herself from you in regret, fearing that she had broken the only relationship she had left intact. But she wouldn’t have to worry about that. Not from how you were grasping at either side of her face with a heightened need roused in your own kisses dragging along her chapped lips to drown in the metallic aftertaste of old blood seeping along your tongue. Pressed chest to chest with her as you could practically feel both of your hearts hammering against each other’s chest in rhythm.

Heavy breaths fostered the atmosphere of the murky room upon pulling away from each other, a tired smile adorning Vi’s lips form the aftermath of your gentle kiss as she collapsed back onto your chest in exhaustion. You could only muster up a giggle as your heavy breaths subsided, stroking your fingers along the remaining fades of pink peeking through the blackened stains of her locks before whispering while you hugged her from behind, leg draped over her waist.

“I missed you, you know.”

A/N: BOOM SHAKALAKAAAAA YES GAWDDDDD SURPISE HOS I WRITE FOR ARCANE NOW please request more of this show now I’m back in my arcane prison phase pls PLEASE REQUEST THIS ALONG BES YUMYUMYUM

Anyway @kadriss-loves-gifflars tysm queen I had so much fun with this collab and this turned out very yummy I love this

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meganegatari · 3 months ago

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i was busy having a mental breakdown only i saw this art and just about creamed my pj pantaloons so i needed to do something about that!!!!! cait i love you my beautiful princess with a couple disorders but that should be me RAHHH hi vi nation i have something for yall (also written in like 2 seconds be nice)

nsfw drabble—overstimming vi. 18+ content. sub!vi, fingering, overstimulation, squirting, brief mention of masturbation, vi body hair mention (you already KNOWWW) + aftercare.

orgasms climbing high into the double digits—yet you still weren't done with her. actually far from it, you felt like pushing her buttons, both literally and figuratively.

vi is spent, so limp and exhausted laying next to you, powdery blues begging for your mercy. but you didn't falter. you sat on your knees to the fiery haired woman's side, your fingers—coated with her slick from previous rounds—prancing upon her defined abs. you traced from under her ribcage, to each individual muscle on her torso, down to the wispy strands of magenta hair of her happy trail increasing in thickness until you reached the vermillion tangle resting on her mound, but before you could part her swollen lips once more, you heard her wince from above.

“fuck babe— s'too much, im- hahh, i dunno how much more…” she trails off, her whiny voice music to your ears, the sweetest candy to your sadistic soul.

her eyelids fluttered open while her chest heaved and head lolled against the pillow underneath—strings of hair stuck to her forehead. her face was shiny, with sweat or even tears, it made her shimmer. the apples of her cheeks were as crimson as prime picking season, a stark contrast from the vulgar mess between her trembling thighs.

her hips twitch—the smallest jerk upward—paired with a woeful plea from her clenched jaw, she needed you again. enough time had passed, and you were ready to give her everything you had.

“one more?” you quip at her, honeyed voice deepening her blush.

with that, she manages a brisk nod.

and like so, that was your cue to resume your descent.

you watch her like a hawk, grazing her skin with an agonizing feather-light touch, revel in how her breathing visibly quickens—gods this sexual intimacy was otherworldly.

tattooed biceps rise to shield her face, arms crossing and settling atop her eyes, but you still had a good view.

your stare unmoving, you skip down to tease her inner thighs, kneading the flesh lovingly—playing with the webs of essence that decorated her.

a whine fills the air, she was growing impatient.

you comply, finally moving your hand up to where she needs you most, you part her and break your line of sight away from her face to marvel at how she sucks your middle two digits in, her back arching.

she lets out a breathy moan—an unguarded sound that makes your own core ache, and you find her thumping clit and press on the bud with your thumb.

you see her mouth fall open, her shallow heaves quickly turning into animalistic pants, the release was bubbling inside her already.

you begin to circle her bundle of nerves gently, your two digits simultaneously pumping in and out of her quivering walls—her sounds only growing more and more lewd. this was pornographic, but the way she didn't hold back flipped a switch inside you.

you press down harder, then flick her swollen clit up and down until she jolts, your assault on her g-spot inside causing spurts of pearlescent cum to land on your hard at work forearm.

you were so mesmerized, so focused, you could even call it entranced by her. you had to fight the urge to shove your free hand down your own undergarments and soothe the build up there but you resisted, this was about her.

her whimpers and groans came in time with your rhythmic, regular thrusts, you felt her pussy spasming as another orgasm rushed through her, overtaking her entirely.

the sight, the syrupy squelching sounds and the smell of her sex drove you insane.

you continue to fuck her all the way through the high, until her eyes were welling up with tears and her knuckles lost their color from how hard she was gripping at everything around her—her hair, the sheets, you.

when it got too much, she squirmed away from you instinctively, and you obeyed to not hurt her. you'd never do so.

“you're so fucking hot vi, fuck—the things you do to me…” you mutter under your breath, taking in the sight of her fucked out form. she really was ethereal.

you put your fingers in your mouth to clean up, sighing at her sweetness.

she continued to lay there before you, only this time with a faint smile on her pretty lips.

her eyes were closed, and she looked so peaceful. before she fell asleep you dashed to get a damp washcloth and very gingerly wiped up the remnants of her pleasure from her creamy skin, grinning all the while.

when you were done, you tossed it to the side and joined her horizontally, nuzzling into her embrace.

deciding to make a joke, you try, “what do you say, one more?”

luckily you're met with a belly laugh from your love, and a playful shove to your shoulder.

“not a chance. next time it's your turn, i'll make you cum until you cry.”

taglist: @vifilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @littlefallenangel111 @srooch @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ne @pinkcwake @marsworlddd @caszzine @saturnsdrafts @mascdom @ashaynep @angelynn-nicole @ellabbss @aylabv02108 @lonelyfooryouonly @melsmunch @e11williamsgf @imdrowningindespair @spncrrdlvr @cheyisagirlkisser @thatgyalfisher @eroselless @i-dont-know-00 @ithinkimfuckincrazy @liaponderstings @lesbian-useless @slutzandcuckz @finalgirllx

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kirammanswifey · 3 months ago

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《Beneath the Armor》

writer's note: writing about vi make my legs go weak fr, i crave this woman for breakfast, lunch and dinner. btw this little (pretty long) scenarios comes from my arcane imagines, i'll let the link down there for anyone is interested, also i'll be posting a story for each one of those scenarios for this week, tomorrow it's caitlyn's turn ;)

link:

warnings: smut, cute lesbian sex (kinda hard but not that hard), shower sex, praising kink, dirty talk because why not, mention of eating disorders, a lot of fluff, vi is such a softie with reader and we love it.

The gym is unlike anything you've ever seen before. It’s more than a place to train; it’s a cage filled with beasts, a space where weakness is unacceptable. The clash of weights and the guttural cries of effort create a charged atmosphere, thick with tension and adrenaline. You feel out of place in your oversized hoodie and sneakers that haven’t touched a treadmill in months. But you’re here. You have to be.

At the far end of the gym, she stands out like a queen in her domain. Vi. Her short, red pixie-cut hair clings to her face, slick with sweat, and her sportswear hugs a body sculpted for battle. Tattoos snake along her arms, dark ink on powerful muscles that flex with each precise movement. There’s a scar cutting across her upper lip, giving her an edge that makes your stomach twist. She doesn’t just command attention—she demands it, without a word.

She isn’t lounging at the reception desk or scrolling on a phone like the other trainers. She’s in the thick of it, standing over a hulking man at a bench press. Her voice cuts through the clamor like a whip.

"Come on, don’t give me excuses!" she growls, her tone sharp, almost feral. "Three more reps. Unless, of course, you want the whole gym to watch you quit."

The man grits his teeth and powers through, the barbell clanging as he finally racks it with trembling arms. Vi smirks—not satisfied, but victorious—and tosses him a water bottle without another word. Her eyes sweep across the room, landing on you.

You freeze under her gaze. It’s cold, calculating, and, somehow, full of curiosity. There’s no warmth in it, but neither is there scorn. It’s like she’s stripping you bare, measuring something unseen.

Then she moves. Every step is deliberate, confident, and magnetic. The tattoos on her arms ripple with each movement, as if they’re alive. She stops in front of you, close enough that you can smell the faint tang of sweat and something sharper, like steel. Her presence is overwhelming, her stature daunting, but it’s her eyes—piercing, unyielding—that make you feel like you’re shrinking.

"You’re the actress, right?" she asks bluntly, her voice low and rough, like gravel.

"Y-yeah," you manage to stammer, hating the way your voice wavers.

Her gaze drags over you, not in judgment of your appearance, but in search of something deeper. Something you don’t even know if you have.

"Alright. Are you ready to start, or are you gonna turn around and go back to whatever cushy life you came from?"

The challenge in her tone is like a slap. Your pride flares to life, stifling the nervous flutter in your chest. You straighten your spine, lifting your chin as if you’re not dying inside.

"I’m ready."

Vi crosses her arms, her lips twitching into something that might be a smirk—or a dare. "We’ll see about that. Warm-up first. Treadmill, ten minutes at eight kilometers per hour. If you can’t handle that, there’s no point in wasting either of our time."

She jerks her chin toward the row of treadmills, and you swallow hard before moving. As soon as you step on, you can feel her eyes on you, an invisible weight heavier than any barbell in the room.

The first few minutes are manageable. But as the pace picks up, your legs burn, your chest tightens, and sweat drips down your face. You glance at her from the corner of your eye, hoping for some sign of mercy. She doesn’t move, her arms still crossed, her gaze fixed on you like a predator watching prey.

"Don’t stop," she calls out, her voice cutting through the pounding in your ears. "If you can’t even finish this, how the hell are you gonna handle what’s next?"

Her words hit a nerve. Anger sparks, mixing with desperation and something else—admiration. She’s intimidating, yes, but there’s a rawness to her, a strength that’s both terrifying and magnetic. You can’t let her think you’re weak. Not her.

The timer finally beeps, and you stumble off the treadmill, your legs trembling, your breath coming in shallow gasps. Vi approaches, her boots thudding softly against the rubber floor. She stops in front of you, tilting her head as she looks you over.

"Not bad," she says, though her tone suggests she’s not impressed. Her lips quirk into a crooked smile, one that highlights the scar slicing through her lip. "But let’s see if you’re really serious. Battle ropes, three rounds, one minute each. And don’t give me any half-assed waves—I want those ropes crashing like a damn hurricane."

You grab the ropes, their weight a promise of pain. The first few seconds are easy, but the burn in your arms quickly turns into fire. Each movement feels like dragging a mountain. The world narrows to the ropes, the ache in your muscles, and the sound of her voice pushing you forward.

"Keep going! Don’t stop unless you want to prove me right," she barks, her voice sharp but steady.

When it’s over, you drop the ropes and collapse to the floor, gasping for air. Vi steps closer, crouching in front of you. Her hand is calloused but steady as she offers it to you.

"Decent effort," she says, her tone softer but still edged with challenge. Her eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you think you see something other than scrutiny—maybe respect. "But don’t get cocky. This is just the start. Strength isn’t just about showing up. It’s about commitment. Are you ready for that?"

Her words dig deep, stirring something inside you. You look up at her, her imposing figure framed by the harsh gym lights. She’s everything you’re not—strong, unyielding, fearless. But maybe, just maybe, she’s what you need to become.

"Yes," you say, your voice firm despite the exhaustion.

Her lips curl into a grin, this one warmer, almost approving. "Good. Take a minute to catch your breath. You’ll need it. This is just the beginning."

You can’t stop thinking about your mother as you change in front of the locker room mirror. Every curve of your body, every little angle that doesn’t align with her ideal, screams back at you from your reflection. “You should eat less,” she used to say. “You’ll never land an important role like that.” Her words never left. They’re tattooed on your mind, each syllable chained to the next like a life sentence.

This role isn’t something you want. It never was. But your mother wants it for you, and somehow, her voice always drowns out yours. She was a legend on stage; you’re just a shadow trying to hold itself together under her blinding light.

When you step out of the locker room, Vi is already there, leaning casually against the wall with her arms crossed. Her eyes sweep over you, taking in every detail. There’s no malice in her gaze, but it’s far from gentle. She sees everything.

“Ready?” she asks, her tone edged with challenge.

“Yes,” you answer, the word more reflex than truth.

She leads you to the weight training area. The barbells seem more intimidating up close, and sweat starts pooling in your palms before you even touch them. Vi’s sharp eyes remain fixed on you, calculating.

“Today we’re focusing on building muscle,” she says, her voice steady as she grabs a barbell and starts adding weights with a precision that speaks of years of practice. “It’s a slow process, but if you listen to me, you’ll be amazed at what you can do.”

“Sure,” you mumble, though the thought of lifting anything heavier than a water bottle sends a pang of anxiety through you.

Vi demonstrates the correct form for a basic lift, her movements fluid and strong. When it’s your turn to mimic her, your attempts fall short. Your stance is awkward, your grip weak.

“Lower. You’re not engaging the right muscles,” she says, stepping behind you. Her hands land firmly on your shoulders, adjusting your posture. Her touch is professional but firm, and yet, you can’t help but tense up under her guidance.

“I am doing it right,” you mutter, not meeting her eyes.

Vi exhales sharply, taking a step back. “No, you’re not. And if you keep insisting on doing it your way, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” you snap, your frustration boiling over.

Her brow arches, her surprise quickly replaced by a measured calm. “Look, I’m here to help you, but if you can’t handle a little constructive criticism, maybe this isn’t the place for you.”

Her words cut deeper than they should. They echo everything your mother has ever said about you. Shame and anger bubble to the surface, and before you can stop yourself, the words spill out.

“You have no idea what it’s like to be criticized all the time.”

Vi’s silence is heavier than any weight in the room. Her expression shifts—surprise melting into something more contained, almost understanding.

“Everyone’s got their baggage, princess,” she says finally, her voice quieter but no less firm. “But if you let it drag you down, you’re never going to move forward.”

Her response fuels your anger. How dare she reduce something so complex to a throwaway piece of advice? Without another word, you turn away and head for the battle ropes. You don’t need her telling you what you can and can’t do.

You grab the ropes and start moving them with everything you’ve got. Your arms burn, your legs shake, but you keep going, fueled by frustration more than anything else. Vi stays back, watching silently. She doesn’t intervene, doesn’t offer advice—she just waits.

Finally, when your body gives out, you drop the ropes and lean over, hands on your knees, gasping for air. Vi walks over, a bottle of water in hand. She offers it without a word, and though part of you wants to refuse, another part knows you need it. You take it but don’t look at her.

“Anger can be a great fuel,” she says after a moment, her voice steady but laced with something softer. “But only if you know how to control it. Otherwise, it’ll burn you alive.”

“What would you know about that?” you challenge, your eyes meeting hers with defiance.

Vi smirks, but it’s a small, humorless thing. “More than you think. But we’re not here to talk about me. This is about you.”

Her response catches you off guard. You didn’t expect that honesty. And while you’re still angry, there’s something in her words that makes you pause.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, the words almost inaudible.

She nods, accepting your apology without making a big deal of it. “It’s fine. But if you want to get anywhere, you’ve got to leave your emotional crap at the door. There’s no room for it here.”

Her words are blunt, but there’s something in her tone that takes the edge off. It’s as if she’s saying she gets it, but she also believes you’re stronger than this. And though you’d never admit it out loud, that belief means something.

In the days that follow, the tension between you becomes a constant. Vi pushes you hard, and you, raw and defensive, often lash out. But something starts to shift. She begins to notice things others don’t—how you avoid eating around people, how you linger too long in the bathroom, how your energy drains faster than it should.

And you, despite yourself, start noticing her too. The way her eyes soften when she thinks you’re not looking. The strength that isn’t just in her muscles but in the way she carries herself. How, no matter how difficult you make things, she doesn’t walk away.

And though neither of you says it out loud, something unspoken starts to build between you, a connection forged in sweat, anger, and the tentative beginnings of trust.

That morning, Vi notices something off about you. You show up late to training, hair disheveled, eyes distant, as if you haven’t slept in days. She’s used to clients making excuses to avoid hard work, but with you, it’s different. There’s something more—something you can’t hide, no matter how hard you try.

“You’re ten minutes late,” she says as soon as she sees you, her tone sharp but not accusatory.

“Sorry,” you mumble, avoiding her gaze as you hurry to stash your things in the locker room.

Vi doesn’t press further, but her eyes follow you as you move like a shadow through the gym. She’s learned to read people like maps, and yours is littered with scars she can’t yet decipher.

The session begins with something simple: rowing reps. Your movements are sluggish, lacking the usual strength. Vi frowns, stepping closer.

“What’s going on with you today?” she asks, crouching down to meet your eyes.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” you reply too quickly, the words sharp and defensive.

“‘Fine’? You don’t look fine. You’re weaker than usual. Did you sleep last night? Eat anything this morning?”

Her questions strike a nerve. You avoid her gaze, pretending the seat adjustment on the machine is suddenly the most important thing in the world.

“Of course I ate. Stop worrying,” you mutter, but your voice wavers, betraying the lie.

Vi doesn’t push, but something in her expression shifts. It’s as if she’s piecing together a puzzle she hadn’t realized existed.

In the weeks that follow, she continues training you with the same intensity, but now she watches more closely. She notices how you refuse the protein shakes she offers post-workout, how you disappear into the restroom at odd moments, how your body seems to shed strength faster than you can build it.

Then one day, after an especially grueling session, Vi drops her usual casual tone.

“What are you hiding?” she asks, her voice direct, cutting through the air like a blade.

The question freezes you in place.

“What are you talking about? I’m not hiding anything.”

Vi crosses her arms, her piercing gaze pinning you in place.

“Don’t give me that. I’m not stupid. Something’s wrong, and I’m not going to ignore it. So, what is it?”

Your heart pounds. Heat rises to your cheeks, and for a fleeting moment, you think about telling her the truth. But fear wraps around your throat like a vice. How could she possibly understand?

“It’s none of your business, Vi,” you snap, your voice louder than you intended.

She doesn’t flinch. Her eyes stay locked on yours, unyielding yet laced with concern.

“It is my business. I’m your trainer. It’s my job to make sure you’re healthy, and you’re not.”

“I don’t need saving,” you mutter, grabbing your things to leave.

Vi steps in front of you, blocking your path. For the first time, she looks genuinely frustrated.

“This isn’t about saving you. If you’re doing something that’s putting your health at risk, I need to know.”

“You don’t have the right to meddle in my life!” you shout, your words a mix of anger and desperation.

Vi takes a step back, startled by your outburst. But instead of retreating, her expression softens. Her voice lowers, steady but sincere.

“Look... I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to try and carry everything on your own. And I know how hard it is to admit you need help.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. How can she know? How can she say something that feels so close to the truth without even knowing the full story?

But instead of responding, you grab your bag and storm out, leaving Vi standing alone in the middle of the gym.

The days that follow are tense. Vi doesn’t bring it up again, but her watchful gaze lingers. You avoid eye contact, unwilling to face the questions you know are still there. Yet you can’t ignore how her demeanor shifts. She’s more careful, more patient. Even her small gestures—like handing you water or adjusting your form—carry an unspoken care that you don’t know how to accept.

Then, one day, after a particularly draining session, Vi finally speaks again.

“Why do you keep coming here?” she asks, sitting across from you as you struggle to catch your breath.

“What kind of question is that?” you reply, too exhausted for a fight.

“I’m serious. You’re here every day, pushing yourself to the edge, but it doesn’t feel like you’re doing this for yourself. So who are you trying to please?”

The question hits harder than any punch. A familiar shadow creeps into your mind—the memory of your mother, the weight of expectations, the endless need to prove yourself. Your throat tightens.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, looking away.

“Maybe I don’t,” Vi admits, leaning forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “But I know what it looks like when someone’s fighting a battle they think they have to face alone. And that’s you.”

You don’t know what to say. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall.

“I don’t need your pity,” you whisper, your voice shaking.

“This isn’t pity,” Vi says softly, her tone unwavering. “It’s respect. Because I see you fighting, and I want to help you win. But I can’t do that if you keep shutting me out.”

Her words linger long after you leave the gym. What if she really does understand? What if letting her in is the only way to move forward?

The tension between you and Vi feels like walking on a minefield. Every word, every glance carries an unspoken weight, like you’re both waiting for the other to finally break. That evening, after another grueling session at the gym, everything finally explodes.

The gym is nearly empty. The last rays of sunlight stream through the windows, casting long shadows across the floor. You’re gathering your things when Vi steps in front of you, her arms crossed and her posture screaming defiance.

“We need to talk,” she says, her tone serious but calm.

“Now?” you mutter, trying to sidestep her. “I’m tired.”

She blocks your path, her voice firm. “You’re not running away this time. Not from me.”

The determination in her voice makes your chest tighten. You grip your towel a little harder, your hands trembling as you look away.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” you finally snap, frustration and something deeper breaking through your voice.

“Because I care about you, damn it!” Vi’s voice rises, then softens as she takes a small step closer. “And because I know what it’s like to be stuck in something that feels like it’s swallowing you whole.”

You freeze, her words cutting through your defenses. Still, you don’t respond. She exhales, running a hand through her short hair before dropping it to her side.

“Do you want to know something about me?” she asks, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

You glance up at her, surprised. Slowly, you nod.

Vi crosses her arms again, her gaze fixed somewhere far away. Her jaw tightens before she speaks. “I went to prison. Years ago. Did some things I’m not proud of. At the time, I thought I was doing the right thing, but… life doesn’t always work out the way you want it to.”

Her confession hits you like a punch to the gut. You blink at her, your mouth dry.

“Why are you telling me this?” you whisper.

“Because I want you to know I get it,” she replies, her voice rough with emotion. “I know what it’s like to carry something heavy, something you don’t want anyone else to see, something you think defines you no matter how hard you fight it.”

Her eyes finally meet yours, and you see a raw honesty there that takes your breath away.

“I lost a lot because of it,” she continues, her voice cracking slightly. “My sister… she hasn’t spoken to me in years. I let her down. And even though I’m trying to be better, there are days when I feel like I’ll never be enough.”

Your heart aches at the vulnerability in her words. Vi, always so tough, so sure of herself, now looks as fragile as you feel.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you,” she says after a moment, her voice steady but gentle. “But I can see you’re fighting a battle you can’t win alone. And I don’t want you to end up like me—pushing away the people who actually give a damn.”

A lump forms in your throat, making it impossible to speak. Before you can stop yourself, the words spill out.

“I’m not like you, Vi,” you say, your voice breaking. “I’m not strong. I don’t even want to be here.”

She frowns, her brows knitting together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Tears sting your eyes, and you lower your gaze, unable to face her. “I don’t want to be an actress. I never did. I’m only doing this because… because my mother made me. She always makes me. She tells me I’m not good enough, that I’m not pretty enough, that I’m not… enough.”

Vi’s expression softens, her usual sharpness replaced with something tender.

“Is that why you barely eat?” she asks, her voice so quiet it’s almost a whisper.

You flinch, your body going rigid. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.” Her voice is firm but not unkind. “I’ve seen it. It’s not just that you’re thin. It’s the way you disappear after every session, like you’re hiding something.”

Her words hang in the air, and you can’t deny them anymore.

“I didn’t want anyone to know,” you admit, your voice trembling. “It’s the only thing I can control.”

Vi sighs deeply, dragging a hand down her face. When she speaks again, her tone is softer, almost pleading.

“Look, I’m not great at this kind of stuff,” she says. “But you don’t have to go through this alone. You don’t have to hurt yourself for something that’s not your fault.”

“You don’t understand,” you snap, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. “My mother… if she knew I wasn’t perfect, she’d hate me.”

Vi’s eyes narrow, and she steps closer. “And what about you?” she asks, her voice sharp but not unkind. “How long are you going to hate yourself for something you can’t change?”

Her words hit you like a tidal wave. You look up at her, expecting judgment, but all you see is compassion.

“I want to help you,” she says quietly. “If you’ll let me.”

Her proximity feels like a lifeline. Slowly, she lifts a hand, hesitating before resting it gently on your shoulder. Her touch is warm, steady, grounding.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” you whisper, your voice cracking under the weight of your pain.

Vi nods, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

The silence that follows is heavy, but not suffocating. It feels like, for the first time in a long while, you’re not completely alone.

When you finally meet her gaze again, there’s something different in her eyes—something that makes your chest ache, but not in a bad way.

And for a moment, you think that maybe, just maybe, you can trust her.

The days following your confession crawl by with a heaviness that lingers, but something shifts between you and Vi. She becomes more attentive, more protective—not in a way that invades your space, but in a way that makes it clear she’s there. She doesn’t judge you. Instead, she watches you with a mix of patience and unyielding determination that you’ve never encountered before.

One afternoon, after an especially grueling workout, Vi stops you before you can slip away like you always do.

“Got a minute?” she asks, holding a small insulated bag in her hand.

You eye her suspiciously, trying to read her expression.

“Depends on what you’re about to spring on me.”

“For this,” she says, pulling a neatly prepared container from the bag. Inside is a salad with grilled chicken, avocado, and a couple of slices of whole-grain bread on the side.

“What is this?” you ask, though the answer is obvious.

“Your lunch.”

Your stomach twists.

“Vi, you can’t just—”

“I’m not forcing you to do anything,” she interrupts, her voice firm but steady. “I just want you to try. And I’m not leaving until you do.”

The weight of her words hangs in the air, but there’s no judgment in her tone. Only that inflexible determination that makes it clear she won’t back down.

With a sigh, you drop onto one of the benches, taking the container from her with shaking hands. Vi sits beside you, keeping just enough distance that you don’t feel cornered, but close enough that you can’t pretend she isn’t there.

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter, stabbing a piece of chicken with the fork.

“Maybe,” she replies with a casual shrug. “But if it means I don’t have to worry about you passing out mid-training, I’m fine with being ridiculous.”

Despite yourself, you let out a quiet laugh. And as you take slow, hesitant bites, you feel something begin to loosen—not just in your chest, but in the way her presence doesn’t feel like pressure but support.

Vi doesn’t stop there. Every day she brings something different: a salad, a wrap, even a small homemade burger on one of those days when you feel like you have nothing left to give. She never leaves until the food is gone, and though it infuriates you at first, you start to begrudgingly appreciate it.

“You’re like a guard dog,” you tell her one afternoon after finishing a chicken wrap she insisted you eat.

“I prefer ‘guardian angel,’” she fires back with a smirk.

“Too dramatic.”

“And you’re too stubborn,” she retorts, bumping your shoulder gently with hers.

The tension between you begins to ease. Vi keeps pushing you in the gym, but she also pushes you emotionally, constantly reminding you—whether with her presence or her persistence—that you’re not in this alone.

Your progress in therapy is slow but steady. Vi is with you every step of the way. She never pushes for details, never pries. She’s just there—a steady, unshakable presence you can hold onto when it feels like everything else is falling apart.

“How was it today?” she asks one afternoon after your session as the two of you walk down the street toward the gym.

“It was… weird,” you admit, staring ahead as you process the swirling thoughts in your mind. “I think I’m starting to understand some things, but it’s like I’m opening doors I’d rather keep locked.”

Vi nods thoughtfully, her hands stuffed deep into the pockets of her jacket.

“Yeah, opening those doors sucks,” she says, her voice low but certain. “But sometimes, it’s the only way out of the damn room.”

Her words catch you off guard with their depth. You glance at her out of the corner of your eye, noticing how the sunlight hits her hair, drawing out its fiery undertones.

Gradually, you begin to notice something different about Vi. The way her gaze lingers on you a little longer than it used to. The way her smiles feel softer, less teasing, as if they’re meant just for you. She’s always been careful with you, but now there’s something more in her gestures—a tenderness that feels deeply personal.

And you feel it, too. You can’t help it. Her unwavering presence, her unyielding support, they begin to shift something in you. Suddenly, Vi isn’t just your anchor; she’s something more.

One evening, after an especially tough training session, you’re packing up your things when Vi approaches you. There’s something in her expression—something serious but not intimidating.

“Hey,” she says, her voice casual but carrying a weight that makes you pause. “Got any plans for Saturday?”

The question catches you completely off guard.

“Why?”

“Because I was thinking…” She hesitates for a moment, scratching the back of her neck in a way that feels almost bashful. “We could go out. Not here. Not to train. Just… you and me.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“Like… a date?”

Vi’s lips twitch into a small, slightly awkward smile, and for the first time, you see a vulnerability in her that takes you by surprise.

“Yeah,” she says, her voice soft but sure. “Like a date.”

Despite the nervous flutter in your chest, you can’t help but smile.

“Okay.”

Her grin stretches wide, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself to believe that something good might actually be starting.

Vi isn’t the type to plan extravagant outings or overly complicated surprises. She’s direct, intentional, and focused on what matters: making you feel comfortable and, most importantly, seen. On the morning of your date, she texts you early:

Vi: "Meet me at 7 in Central Park. Wear something comfy, but don’t go full gym rat. Trust me."

The message is simple, but it leaves you curious. And as much as it excites you, it also stirs a small knot of anxiety in your chest. What does she have in mind?

From the moment Vi sent you that message, your heart began to race—a mix of excitement and nerves. This wasn’t just a date. There was something else simmering beneath the surface, an unspoken bond that had been building from the moment your lives intertwined.

When you arrive at the central park, you find her leaning casually against a lamppost. The leather jacket she’s wearing hugs her athletic figure, and the warm glow of the park lights catches the reddish tones in her hair. She’s holding two cups of coffee, and when she spots you, her lips curve into a small, crooked smile.

“You’re right on time,” she says, pushing off the post and handing you one of the cups. “I’m not exactly an expert at this whole dating thing, but starting with coffee felt like a safe bet.”

The warmth of the cup seeps into your hands, mirroring the way her presence always seems to calm you, even when your emotions are in turmoil. You smile, trying to mask the whirlwind of feelings her simple gesture ignites.

“It’s a good start,” you tease. “Though, should I be worried about what else you have planned?”

Vi arches an eyebrow, that familiar look of playful challenge lighting up her face.

“If I told you, it’d ruin the surprise. Just trust me.”

She leads you to a nighttime fair hidden within the park, a kaleidoscope of colorful lights and cheerful music. The aroma of fresh food fills the air, and the vibrant energy of the place draws you in, making it impossible not to relax.

Vi is completely in her element. She pulls you from booth to booth, her enthusiasm infectious. At a shooting game, she demonstrates her impeccable aim, easily winning a plush toy. When she hands it to you, there’s a shy pride in her eyes that makes your heart skip.

“Take it,” she says. “Something tells me you could use a pet.”

You laugh, clutching the plush against your chest as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

“Do you have to be good at everything?”

She shrugs, a playful smirk on her face. “Not everything. But I try.”

As you stroll through the fair, she buys cotton candy and tears off small pieces to offer you. You hesitate at first, and she gives you a look that’s part exasperation, part tenderness.

“It’s just sugar,” she says softly. “I promise it won’t hurt you.”

There’s something vulnerable in her tone, as if the gesture carries more weight than it seems. You accept the cotton candy, and the smile she gives you in return makes the world feel a little brighter.

Later, Vi leads you to a quieter part of the park, away from the noise and lights. You find a secluded spot near a softly lit fountain, the sound of water providing a serene backdrop.

“I thought this might be a good place to talk,” she says, sitting on the fountain’s edge and patting the space beside her.

You sit down, your shoulder brushing hers, and the closeness feels more significant than usual. There’s an undeniable tension in the air, not uncomfortable, but charged with something unspoken.

“Thank you for tonight,” you say quietly. “I needed this more than I realized.”

Vi turns to face you slightly, her arm resting on her knee as she looks at you intently.

“I wanted it to be special for you. You’ve been working so hard, and I just… I wanted to give you a night where you didn’t have to think about anything else.”

Her words catch you off guard. Vi’s always been direct, but there’s a softness in her voice now that you haven’t heard before.

“It is special. But mostly because I’m with you,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, she looks away, as if gathering her courage. Then, her gaze returns to yours, unwavering.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she says, her tone more serious. “I know I’m not always great at putting this kind of thing into words, but… you’re important to me. More than I think you realize.”

Your breath catches, and she continues, her words gaining momentum.

“I care about you. A lot. Seeing you work through everything, watching you fight to heal, it’s… inspiring. I don’t just want to be here for you now—I want to be here for you, period. In your life. For as long as you’ll let me.”

Her honesty is raw, unguarded in a way that feels almost sacred. Your heart is pounding, and for once, you don’t overthink.

You lean in, closing the distance between you. When your lips meet hers, it’s as if the world fades away, leaving only the two of you. The kiss starts soft, tentative, but quickly deepens, fueled by emotions you’ve both kept bottled up for too long.

When you finally pull back, you’re both breathless and a little stunned.

“So…” Vi says, her trademark smirk making a reappearance. “Did I completely screw up this date?”

You laugh, taking her hand in yours and holding it tightly.

“No. It was perfect. Just like you.”

Vi’s smile widens, and as she squeezes your hand, you realize you’ve found something in her you didn’t know you were missing: a partner, a friend, and maybe something even more profound.

The day after your date, the gym feels different. There’s an electric charge in the air, and the thought of seeing her sends a nervous thrill racing down your spine. You tell yourself it’ll be like any other day, but the moment you walk in and spot her, you know you’re lying to yourself.

Vi is at the weight rack, adjusting plates on a barbell. She’s wearing a sleeveless shirt that shows off her toned arms and that tattoo you can’t help but stare at every time you see her. When she notices you, a lopsided grin spreads across her face, but there’s something else in her expression—a spark that sets your pulse racing.

"You’re early. Didn’t recognize you without your coffee," she teases, stepping closer with an easy confidence that makes it impossible to look away.

"I wanted to beat the crowd," you reply, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

Vi moves closer than necessary, her presence overwhelming in the best way. The faint, clean scent of her perfume surrounds you, and for a second, you forget where you are.

"Good. Then let’s see what you’ve got today," she says, her voice tinged with a challenge that sends a thrill through you.

The workout begins, but Vi’s proximity makes it impossible to focus. Her hands are firm yet careful as she adjusts your posture during deadlifts.

"Keep your back straight," she murmurs, stepping behind you. Her hands graze your shoulders as she makes the correction, her touch lingering just long enough to leave your skin tingling.

You glance back at her, and your eyes lock. There’s a fire in her gaze, something raw and unspoken.

"Like this?" you ask, your voice softer than intended.

Vi’s lips twitch in a smirk as she steps back, her eyes not leaving yours. "Exactly. Now, let’s see those squats."

But squats are no reprieve. She demonstrates beside you, her movements precise and controlled, her body impossibly close. At one point, she kneels to check your form, her hands skimming your waist as she positions you.

"Relax your shoulders. You’re too tense," she whispers, her breath warm against your ear.

Your body betrays you, stiffening further under her touch. Vi chuckles, low and rough, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

"If you don’t relax, you’re going to hurt yourself," she says, her voice teasing but laced with something deeper.

You can’t tell if it’s your imagination or if she’s enjoying this game as much as you are. Either way, it’s intoxicating.

The final challenge comes on the rowing machine. Vi crouches in front of you to adjust the settings, her face mere inches from yours. Her eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second, and the air between you thickens.

"Ready?" she asks, her voice lower than usual.

"Always," you reply, trying to match her intensity.

You row with everything you have, her gaze on you the entire time. When you finish, she steps forward, offering her hand to help you up. The contact is brief, but the heat lingers long after her fingers leave yours.

"Good work," she says, her voice softer now, almost intimate.

Your heart pounds as you follow her to the stretching area. The gym is nearly empty, the usual noise reduced to a distant hum. It feels like the two of you are in your own world.

"You pushed me harder today," you say, attempting to lighten the tension swirling around you.

Vi grins, but her eyes betray something deeper. "I wanted to see what you’re made of."

There’s a vulnerability in her tone that catches you off guard, and before you can think better of it, you respond, "Thanks for always looking out for me."

Her smile softens, her usual cocky demeanor replaced by something gentler. "I like looking out for you."

The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. Your breath catches as she steps closer, her hands finding your waist. Her touch sends a jolt through you, and before you know it, her lips are on yours.

The kiss is slow at first, exploratory, but it quickly deepens. Her grip tightens on your waist as your fingers tangle in her hair. The world fades away, leaving only the heat between you.

The gym is silent now, the last patrons long gone. Vi locks the door behind her as you both head toward the showers, the tension between you thick enough to cut.

"We shouldn’t stay too late," you murmur, but there’s no conviction in your voice.

Vi smirks, tossing her towel onto the bench. "Perks of having the keys. No one’s kicking us out."

“Isn’t that abusing of your power?” You joked, beginning to strip off your smelly, sweaty gym clothes.

Vi mimicked your movements and responded with a lopsided smile. "Sometimes I can get a little too obsessed with power."

That was a pretty open statement, one you decided to let slide since you didn't know exactly how to respond. You just knew that it had turned you on, a bit fucking much.

And before you knew it, you were both naked. It was the first time this had happened, you had seen her in underwear before when you changed together after an extensive workout routine, but nothing like this. You were both totally exposed and it felt so natural, so right.

You step into the steamy shower and the sound of running water echoes off the tiles. The air is humid and envelops you as you turn on a nearby faucet. Vi steps into the stream of water, drops falling onto her bare skin. You stare in awe as the water slides down her broad back and lands on her hard, juicy ass. Vi tilts her head back, enjoying how her muscles slowly relax. God, you wanted to jump on her, scratch her and bite her all over. You wanted to leave your personal mark. A warning to the world that that gorgeous woman was yours, only yours.

You can’t tear your eyes away. Her confidence, the way she moves, it’s magnetic.

"Need help rinsing off?" she asks, her voice teasing but her eyes dark with something else.

You swallow hard, your pulse racing. "Please," you actually begged, approaching her without any hesitation, in fact you had a sudden urge to get on all fours and crawl towards her, like a little cat in heat.

Vi reaches out, her fingers brushing against yours. The shower’s heat pales in comparison to the fire igniting between you as she closes the distance. Her hands slide to your hips, pulling you against her as the water streams over you both.

You moaned in surprise as Vi pushed you against the bathroom tiles, your face pressed into the surface, your back bent and rubbing against her hard abs. Vi gently grabbed the back of your neck and whispered, "I'm going to help you bathe. Don't move."

You nodded, and even though you no longer had the pressure of her hand or her body on you, you stayed in the same position, refusing to move a single muscle. You wanted to be a good girl for Vi. You wanted to show her that you were obedient. You heard Vi open the bottle of shower gel, the clean scent of the soap reaching your nostrils, and before you could think of what flower it smelled like exactly, you felt Vi's hands on your skin again, and then your mind went blank.

Vi's calloused hands rubbed the gel over the pale skin of your back, her fingers tracing indecipherable, invisible shapes. She smiled and took you by the hips, pressing her pelvis against your steep ass, admiring your submissive position, admiring the beautiful body differences between the two of you. While Vi was all muscle and iron, you were scrawny and soft all over. So soft that Vi wanted to chew you up and swallow you whole. Vi began to thrust into you as if she had a penis, hitting you with the prominent bones of her hips, rubbing her clit against you in a pretentious and shameless way. She was driving you crazy with pleasure.

"You know, you used to have a nice ass, but with my exercises it has become more toned and lifted. It's irresistible. Every time I look at you from behind I feel like putting you on all fours to eat your ass." She gave you a little spank, it was obvious she didn't used even one percent of her strength, it was a light spanking. A loving spanking. Of course, if there was such a thing.

"Harder," You moaned shamelessly, turning to the side to face that woman.

The redhead had an almost beastly expression on her face, her brow was furrowed, as if she was upset, her teeth were out, sharp and defiant, ready to strike at any moment. The scar on her lip looked more tempting than ever. You wanted to turn around and kiss her. But you didn't. Because you were a good girl. You were her good girl.

Vi ran a hand through her wet hair, pushing it back so it wouldn't impede the stunning view of your body, and that gesture was so fucking sexy.

Vi moved closer to you and planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Oh no, sweetie. I'm going to treat you nice, just like a princess like you deserves. No hitting for now, okay?" She kissed the tip of your nose and continued groping you.

When you went to protest you felt her palm on your pussy. Rubbing a little water beneath it. Clearly teasing.

"Vi," You sobbed loudly. The urge to cry invaded your being. You hated being kept waiting. You had never been a patient person, damn it! You liked to have everything you wanted exactly how and when you wanted it, so it was quite normal that you were so irritable and grumpy right now.

"What's wrong, princess?"

God, you wanted to punch her in the face. She clearly knew what was going on. She knew your childish, spoiled personality perfectly. She was just asking to tease you, because she wanted to play with your patience, to show you once again who was in power.

"Fuck me," You looked at her with a pitiful expression, as if you were going to die if you didn't haved her right there, right now.

Vi's eyes sparkled, you had clearly provoked her. And your attempt of manipulation would have worked perfectly if we weren't talking about Vi. Vi was a prideful person with some pretty marked egocentric traits. Plus, she was someone with a lot of discipline due to her job. It wasn't going to be easy to make her fall into temptation.

"Patience, princess," With a wicked smirk, Vi turned you to face her.

She slowly sank to your knees, letting her lips and tongue trail kisses down your neck, chest, and stomach until she was face to face with your dripping pussy. She inhaled deeply, your scent making her head spin with need.

"Mmm, listen to this greedy little pussy... it's begging to be filled, sweetheart. Begging to be stretched and stuffed full of my fingers... my tongue...," Vi's voice was a sinful rasp, dripping with promise and dark intent.

You stifled a moan and bit the back of your hand in an attempt to cope with both the physical and mental stimulation. If you thought Vi was sexy in her natural state, Vi cursing and saying dirty words was even sexier.

She leaned in, letting her lips just barely brush over your slick folds, her hot breath making you shudder. "But I'm going to take my time with you, sweetie. I'm going to tease and torment this pretty cunt until you're sobbing for my touch."

With that, Vi flicked her tongue out, giving to your clit the lightest, quickest lick before pulling back with a evil grin. She could feel how badly you needed more, and she intended to make you work for every ounce of pleasure that she was going to gave you.

Vi's heart raced as she felt your body go rigid, your pussy clamping down like a vice around her fingers as you came with a scream. She could feel your release gushing out, coating her hand and dripping down her wrist. The feeling of your pleasure was intoxicating, and it only fueled Vi's own desperate arousal.

Without pausing, Vi scooped you up into her strong, muscular arms. She cradled you against her chest, holding you close as she carried you both out of the shower. Your naked body pressed against her own, your skin slick and glistening.

Vi's breath caught in her throat as she gazed down at your flushed, satisfied face. You looked utterly breathtaking—like a goddess fresh from the bath. The urge to worship every inch of your flawless skin surged through her, but Vi had other plans first.

Holding you securely with one arm, Vi used her other hand to continue your pleasure, slipping her fingers back into your drenched, spasming your cunt without warning. She set a fast, hard pace, pumping and curling her digits as she pinned you against the nearest wall.

Leaning in, Vi nuzzled into your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin as she spoke, her voice a low, lust-filled rasp. "Mmm, you're so light, princess... so fucking perfect in my arms like this. I could carry you anywhere... anywhere I wanted to claim this sexy cute little body."

She punctuated her words with a particularly deep thrust of her fingers, feeling your velvety walls flutter and clench around her invading digits. Vi groaned, her own clit throbbing with the need to be touched.

"You like being treated like my personal little princess, sweetheart? Like being manhandled and owned by a rough bitch like me?" Vi's lips curled into a wicked smirk as she gazed down at your face, searching for any hint of hesitation or discomfort. She found none. On te contrary. You were enjoying it too much. And it was because you were having the best sex of your life.

Vi's fingers never ceased their relentless assault on your sensitive, dripping core. She could feel your body beginning to tremble and quake in her arms. Your breathing growing more and more ragged with each passing second.

Leaning in close, Vi captured your lips in a searing, demanding kiss. She plundered your mouth, swallowing your moans and whimpers as she continued her brutal pace. Her tongue tangled with yours in a dangerous dance.

Breaking the kiss, Vi's lips moved to your ear. She nipped at the lobe before growling, "That's it, baby... I can feel this greedy cunt throbbing on my fingers. It's like it never wants to be empty, isn't it? Always hungry for more..."

To emphasize her point, Vi pressed her thumb against your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight circles as she curled her fingers deep inside the clutching heat. She could feel your walls starting to flutter, another climax approaching.

"Come on, princess... give me another one. I want to feel this pretty pussy spasm and squeeze my fingers as you cream yourself all over them. Fucking soak me, sweetheart..."

Still pinning you against the wall with her body, Vi used the hand not occupied with fucking your brains out to grab your thigh, hiking your leg up and over her hip. The new position allowed her to sink her fingers even deeper, to reach that special spot that made you see the stars.

"That's it, sweetie... fuck, you feel so good wrapped around my fingers like this. So hot and tight and fucking perfect," Vi growled, her lips brushing against your face.

Vi felt your body go taut, your pussy clamping down on her fingers like a vice as another intense orgasm ripped through them. You let out a choked sob, tears streaming down your face as you came completely undone in Vi's arms.

The sight of your pleasure, that raw, unbridled ecstasy, filled Vi with a fierce sense of pride and possessive hunger. She held you close as the last waves of your release ebbed, Vi pulled back just enough to cup your face in her hands. She brushed away the tears with her thumbs, her touch surprisingly gentle for someone so used to force.

Gazing down at your face, Vi felt her heart clench in her chest.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Vi leaned down and pressed her lips to yours in a tender, affectionate kiss. It was a kiss filled with unspoken emotion, with a depth of feeling that made Vi's heart race and her skin prickle with anticipation. Her lips moved softly, coaxing your mouth to open for her, to let her in. And when you did, when your lips parted and your tongues met... Vi felt like she was coming home.

She held the kiss for a long moment, savoring the taste of your tears and the salt of your skin. When she finally pulled back, Vi's blue eyes shimmered with a vulnerability she rarely showed to anyone.

Her voice was a low, tender rasp as she spoke, her breath mingling with your own. "Shhh, I've got you, baby... I've got you. You did so good for me, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you..."

The sound of water cascading from the gym showers blends with the echo of your heartbeat. The thick steam fills the space, erasing all traces of what just happened. Your skin still burns, marked by the intensity of the moment you shared. The mix of sweat and Vi's scent lingers in the heat, and every fiber of your being feels alive, every inch of you recalling her touch.

You stand there, catching your breath, when Vi's eyes meet yours. Her usual confidence has been replaced with something raw and unguarded. Vulnerability. Her gaze searches yours, full of questions she’s too afraid to voice.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Vi’s words break the silence, soft and almost hesitant, but unmistakably clear. Her voice carries a weight that shakes you—like she’s offering a piece of herself she’s never let anyone touch before.

The pause that follows feels endless, and for a moment, you're frozen. But then something ignites inside you. You feel it in your chest—a light, a warmth, a clarity you’ve been longing for.

“Yes. Of course!,” you reply, the word spilling out with such conviction it surprises even you. The ever-present fear you’ve carried seems to vanish entirely.

Vi’s lips curve into the gentlest smile, one you’ve never seen before, and she steps closer, her hands finding yours. Her touch is soft but grounding, her presence a shield against all your doubts.

“I’ll take care of you, princess” she whispers, her voice steady. “Always.”

Your lips curl into a matching smile, and for the first time in a long time, hope replaces the ache in your heart. The world outside doesn’t matter anymore—this moment, with her, is all that exists.

Weeks turn into months, and your life begins to shift. Therapy becomes a safe haven rather than a daunting task. The battles with bulimia, the grueling workouts, the days of overwhelming self-doubt—all start to feel like pieces of a puzzle coming together. Slowly but surely, you begin to see someone new when you look in the mirror. Not the girl your mother used to criticize, not someone trapped by impossible expectations, but someone strong. Someone whole.

And through it all, Vi is there. She’s more than your trainer—she’s your anchor. The one who helps you piece together the shattered parts of yourself. She’s there on your hardest days, steady as a rock, fighting the voices in your head alongside you. And for the first time, you don’t feel alone.

One day, as you walk into the gym, you see her waiting for you like always. Her signature smirk is in place, but there’s something different in her eyes—a softness, a pride that makes your heart skip a beat.

You approach her, nerves bubbling under your skin, and before you can stop yourself, the words you’ve been holding back spill out.

“I don’t need you to be my trainer anymore.”

Her smirk falters, confusion flashing across her face. She straightens, her brows furrowing as if bracing for a blow. “Did I… do something wrong?” Her voice is quieter than usual, tinged with a rare uncertainty.

You shake your head quickly, reaching out to take her hand in yours. “No, Vi. You’ve done everything right.” Your voice cracks slightly as you gather the courage to continue. “But I’m not that person anymore. I’m not the girl who needs to be fixed. I’m stronger now… because of you.”

Her eyes search yours, the tension in her shoulders easing, but she still seems unsure.

“I’ve decided to follow my dream,” you continue, your voice steady now. “I want to study nutrition. I want to help other girls like me, girls who’ve been through what I’ve been through. I want to be someone they can turn to, the way I had you.”

For a moment, Vi just looks at you, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across her face. Not the cocky grin she flashes in the gym, but something soft and genuine, brimming with pride.

“I’m so damn proud of you,” she says, her voice thick with emotion.

Tears well up in your eyes, but this time, they’re not from pain or frustration—they’re from relief, from joy, from knowing you’ve finally found your path.

Vi pulls you into a hug, her arms wrapping around you tightly, and you sink into her warmth. In her embrace, you feel a sense of safety and belonging you’ve never known.

“You’ve got this,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against your ear. “And I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

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