Caitlyn And Vi, But After Caitlyn And Ambessa Fight And Caitlyn Is Really Hurt
Caitlyn and Vi, but after Caitlyn and Ambessa fight and Caitlyn is really hurt
Title: Atonement
Ship: Caitlyn x Vi
Wordcount: 3772
Summary: Caitlyn is lying on the battlefield after her brutal fight with Ambessa. She's ready for everything to end, but the familiar footsteps of someone she cares immensely for pulls her out of it.
Warnings: Cannon typical violence, blood, not waking up after injury, shooting, eye injury, prison violence, pre-mature death, mentions of not waking up after injury, possible suicide (Not really though, it's complicated, just not wanting to wake up after getting hurt idk), horrible grammar, I don't beta read.
[A/n: This is dedicated to the lovely @ittynyte who saw this fanart by @qvert and wanted to see something like this written. Hopefully, I did it justice. I absolutely faded out in the end.]
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It was quite unbefitting of a battlefield to be empty. Caitlyn had never concerned herself with the cleanup of something so morbid. It wasn’t in her nature, something that didn’t cross her mind. The battle itself had always weighed so heavily on her armor-clad shoulders that what happened after, if there was an after, did not warrant energy.
Her blurred gaze stared up at the clear blue sky now. The audacity it had, to be so beautiful. It was nearly cloudless, the sun just out of her periphery. She considered this a mercy. There was a thick, warm smattering of blood that had crusted over her left eye, and she was sure the right one was as unfocused as her mind. Clear. Sky blue. Unmoving.
There were injuries to tend to. Armies to direct. Where had the wolf stalked off to? So many questions that lingered at the back of Caitlyn’s mind that couldn’t push through the fog. She needed to move. Had to get off the dirt ground that she lay upon in the center of chaos.
Noxian soldiers scattered and still, she was frozen in time. They must have thought her dead. She was not opposed to the idea. It was easier this way. A body among the others. The great commander Kiramman fallen and turned the powdered dirt to that of metallic mud.
Her breath had tethered into something slow and tacky. One lift of her hand and whoever was in charge of cleaning up the mess they had made would rush to her side with a medic. But this was enough for now. For a long agonizing moment.
A punishment. Atonement.
She should apologize, she was sure.
The crunch of dirt under steps that were much too frantic, much too heavy-footed, caught her attention. Caitlyn’s body thrummed in pain with each slow beat of her heart. The scrambling belonged to someone who cared too much for someone who deserved to die where she lay.
A bleeding heart, some would say, and boy, did she bleed. Her wounds spurted even as she sprinted from her own true demise. She skidded when her knees hit dirt, her shins taking the brunt of the slide. The overwhelming warmth of her made Caitlyn want to turn her head like a flower-seeking sun.
Her mouth was too dry, her heart beating too slow, breathing much too shallow. Now that she wanted to move, had that fire spark in just the right way, she couldn’t. Trapped within herself and the very blood that gushed from her eye like one of those chocolate fountains at her parents galas waved as if it were a personal white flag.
“Fuck,” Vi’s hurried whisper came out cracked. She’d been screaming. Wailing, really. Cait had never heard her broken like this. She sounded as if she had swallowed gravel, tongued it until it filled her lungs and her stomach and found a permanent home there. “Fuck, fuck, fuck”
A large hand was suddenly gripping at Caitlyn’s breastplate, another cradling the back of her head, threading through her sweat-soaked hair as if she were the most precious thing in the world. Not the scum that had put Violet here in the first place. She didn’t deserve to be coddled. She should be the one mending the heart on Vi’s sleeve.
“You’re not allowed to die on me, Kiramman. You piece of shit.”
That damned temper of hers. It was fierce and endearing all the same. Caitlyn pushed any oxygen she could from her lungs, a pathetic-sounding whimper punctuating the effort. It was enough for Vi to call out with enough force to set things into motion. Her calls echo off the cement structures that surround them.
The hand on her chest brushed gently against the curve of her Caitlyn’s features. She wanted so badly to lean into that touch. The kiss the inside of her palm, taste the ashen skin calloused from years of pain and exhaustion that had worked into her bones.
“Hold on for me, sweet girl.” Vi choked out in a whisper. “Hold on.”
Solid ground was no longer under her. There was the spiced scent of Vi’s body wash as Caitlyn’s head lulled into the small of the woman’s neck. She’d bought that soap at a local market when pushed by the seller. She hadn’t expected the herbs to cling so heavenly to her, but in the darkness, she was thankful for them now.
That was months ago. When her mother had died, and her father was locked away in the recesses of the Kiramman manor. Caitlyn was numb, but functional, not yet spurred on by her bitterness. She bought the soap because it was something to do. She’d let a shop keep lead her through dozens of scents, and yes, that does smell exactly like the love of my life, thank you, sir.
Was that before or after she shoved the blunt end of the rifle into the soft spot of her abdomen? Things blended quite wickedly, now. The heat had gotten to her, and so had her dripping wounds. Ambessa kept her blades sharp like her tongue. They carved her like the star of a Christmas feast.
“Drop what you’re doing.” Vi’s voice was stern, a low grumble. She rarely got this way. Only when it came to Caitlyn. “This is your Commander.”
Was she? She’d failed at that too. Yet, here was Violet, parading her around as such. She supposed it wasn’t up to her. Her mouth was still filled with sand and what little strength she had still clung to Vi’s breastplate as she was pulled away. She whimpered in protest, had to have her fingers pried away with small admonishments by either a doctor, or Vi herself.
Caitlyn couldn’t see the sky from where she was now, nothing but a burlap tent. Her vison was fading, flickering at the edges and pounding along with the thrumming of her heart. If she were succumbing to her wounds, she wanted to be outside. She wanted to be on the battlefield, even if it was empty. It was a mercy, she knew, she didn’t rightly deserve.
Her father had worn the same brand of deep red saddle shoes for as long as she could remember. Caitlyn would buy him two custom pairs for Christmas each year because he wore them out like clockwork by the time spring rolled around, and once more when the air grew a stark type of cold. He’d need them once more when the annual Snowdown gala was in full swing.
He’d shake the meticulously wrapped box with a glint in his eye and a devilish smile that reflected the flicker of the fire in the hearth. They rattled around like wooden dice and he boomed ‘I wonder what these are’ from the time that Caitlyn was six all the way until she was an adult and well past her enforcer exams.
She humored him every time, and he loved the gift every time. This year, they hadn’t had a Christmas, and while she still purchased the shoes to give the cobblers some sense of routine, to give themselves something, she had just placed them at his door and waited for him to find them.
His breakfast tray that morning had been deposited with two bites taken out of plain toast, but the shoes were also pulled in, so she figured that was a good sign.
Right now, she could hear his familiar click and clack as he paced with fervor. Anyone at the Piltover Institute of Medicine and Teaching could tell where Doctor Kiramman was by the sound of his red leather saddle shoes, gifted by his very own daughter.
Caitlyn’s fingers twitched. Her toes too, and it was agonizingly painful. Everything was. She figured that she suffered a concussion from the way each step drove through her temples like an icepick. Most of her unconsciousness was marred with darkness but there had been gruesome flashes of her long brawl with Ambessa.
The knife in her gut. A blade through her eye. She’d been chewed up and spit out. Her tendons were shredded, and bullet was nearly lodged in her neck. She could have been paralyzed. She should have been left to bleed out at the hand of the traitors Maddie Nolan. A turncoat that hadn’t warmed her bed but had made it colder.
Another set of footsteps had entered the room, halting her father’s. Much too heavy-footed. Caitlyn swallowed around the knife in her throat, she couldn’t’ even cultivate a whimper. However pathetic the noise, she wanted to do something to call out to them, to let them know that she was here. Fuck her pride. She had nothing left to hold onto.
“Sir,” Vi’s voice was soft. “Please,”
This wasn’t begging, this was something akin to pleading. There was a pregnant pause before Caitlyn registered the sound of porcelain shaking and then steadying just a moment later. Tea. She was bringing him something to drink. Forcing him to take care of himself.
Vi and her father did not have a relationship. The Kiramman estate was large enough to harbor them as strangers. There was staff to separate them, and Caitlyn had long assured that they would never have more than tense eye contact. Especially after the blood relation of Cassandara’s slayer.
Not something that Violet could control.
Tobias forgave too cleanly and Vi loved too heavily. Here they both stood. Vi, leading her father to one of the chairs in front of the fire, her taking the other one and forcing the drink back into his hand, intent on him finishing it. Neither had slept. She could hear it in their voices.
“I was sure that she would wake.”
“Yeah, well… She’s stubborn. You take good care of her, doc. She’ll come around.”
“You speak with such assuredness.”
“If she wasn’t up for the fight, she would have given up by now.”
A stillness fell over the room, the sound of the fire eating away at the logs and Caitlyn’s own stilted breath took away some of the quiet. Vi was right. She was still here. She didn’t know why. Hell, she was so ready to give up on the battlefield. She had caused so much carnage by balling up her grief. Weaponizing it. Pushing she people she loved away.
Yet here she was. Sharing tea with her father, large, bandaged hands dwarfing what she imaged to be the only porcelain cups they owned. Little white things with purple flowers painted along the delicate features. A gold rim that her teeth would clink against because at the last minute, she would grow too eager.
“Did Caitlyn ever tell you about her hunting dogs?”
She could hear the grin in Vi’s voice. “No, sir, I don’t believe she has.”
There was oil paintings scattered around the house of the dogs. She was certain Vi had seen them. The brawler wouldn’t’ admit to it, but she had a curiosity that was unmatched. Caitlyn had caught her taking books from some of the hidden nooks in the home, flipping through them and mouthing the words.
She would stop and run her calloused fingers over the plagues that were bolted under cement busts, or slow when they passed an informational booth in the center of Piltover. The history of things caught her attention. She’d ask questions, and Caitlyn would answer them by a fault.
“Cassandra bought two of them as puppies, small things that she took an instant liking to. Her mother was convinced that they were outdoor dogs meant to work. That’s how she was raised out in the country, and that’s how these dogs were going to be taught. But not if Caitlyn had anything to say about it.”
Tobias chuckled, a low and rustic sound that blanketed Caitlyn in warmth. She fisted her hand, ignored the pain that came with the action. She wanted to reach out to them, to curl up between them with a blanket. To be apart of the moment.
“She started to sneak them into the house at night, and for awhile it worked. Cassandra and I worked late hours so she got away with the puppies sleeping in her bed. Trained them real nice too. Got them to sit, stay, heel. Better than any hunting dog that I’ve ever seen.”
Vi was laughing, a genuine one that came from the belly. “How’d she get caught?”
“During a hunting trip,” Tobias scoffed “We took all of our business partners, including Sheriff Grayson and the dogs out. Caitlyn insisted on going and I saw no issue with it. Even though she was young, she was as skilled as any shooter as I’m sure you know.”
“Of course,”
“It was just before dusk and we had one of the largest bucks I had ever seen in sight, but one of the dogs, Razi, caught wind of Caitlyn. Let out the most excited bark I’d ever heard and bounded over to her before knocking her off her feet, the other dog Rilo following soon after.” He’d dissolved into full giggles at the memory “I’d never seen those dogs in any mood other than stoic. For a few seconds I thought she was getting attacked, but she was laughing.”
Vi was laughing too, the only happy sounds to fill the Kiramman manor in months, perhaps a year at this point. Her chest ached and her jaw too. She wanted to smile, wanted to stir herself from this hellish purgatory from which she resided.
“I’m guessing you didn’t get that buck?” Vi asked, breathless.
“We didn’t,” Tobias huffed “but we got a hell of a story out of it. Grayson took an instant liking to Caitlyn after that, spent the whole weekend helping her perfect her shot. We never knew she had a soft spot for dogs.”
The laughter faded out into the same disquiet that had engulfed the room before. The clattering of porcelain rose to Tobias’s lips and then back to the coffee table. Caitlyn tried to expel the same breath that produced a miniscule sound on the battlefield. But nothing came out.
I’m here damn it. I’m here.
She felt the silk under her fingertips and the scream that was lodged in her throat. It refused to bubble up. Naively, she wanted her father. The same dad who stared in disbelief as Razi and Rilo licked at her face in the cold of winter before breaking out into the most genuine smile she had ever seen.
She wanted Vi, who at first, she had despised. It had only taken a few hours to endear her. The moment she sloppily ate some type of seafood soaked in broth in the undercity was when she truly softened. Her nerves were running high and the stench was one like no other, but there was a look in Vi’s eyes, something of unbridled relief and happiness that was unmatched.
“What if she stops fighting, Violet?” Tobias asked.
“We’ll uh,” Her voice cracked, something sullen and shattered “We’ll have to be prepared for that too.”
The room was bathed in pale moonlight when she willed herself to stir. Fire had long since been snuffed out and the tile floor brought on a familiar chill to her childhood bedroom. She brought in a stifled and sore breath, staring up at the canopy above her, small holes poked in the fabric when she was a child to mimic the constellations.
Her bones felt like mush, functional eye blinking listlessly before she clenched and unclenched her fist. There was a splay of air against her cheek, a scent that was spiced. She dropped her head to the side carefully. Violet.
Her form was taut, curled up on her side on a mountain of pillows. She was as close to Caitlyn as she could be, lying on top of the duvet with her chest moving up and down in soft breaths. Her boots were on, as if she had just gotten to sleep, as if she were ready to spring into action at any moment. How long had it been since she had truly slept?
Her skin was nearly as pale as the moonlight that flitted through the window and her scarred lips parted, letting out little snores that were nothing short of endearing. Caitlyn wished she could fight the urge to press her fingers against them. But she couldn’t. She was used to taking what she wanted.
It took some shaky effort, but she gently pressed the pad of her thumb to the small scar that had been cemented into Vi’s expression. There was a downturn of her lips, and then a quick intake of air before a large hand was gripping tightly onto Caitlyn’s wrist.
She wanted this. The security. The urgency. There was no easy way to awaken Vi. She always startled unless it was by the hand of the sun. Tired gray eyes widened with a heavy inhale. The grip loosened as quickly as it had tightened and Vi shot up with such urgency that she must have seen as many stars as Caitlyn manufactured as a child.
“Fuck, what the fuck?” She whipped her head to the side, blinking rapidly to level Caitlyn with a stare as if she had arisen from the dead. “Cait? Are you… Jesus Christ”
Vi rubbed a large hand across her face and flicked on a light, making them both flinch before she hurriedly turned back to Caitlyn who blinked at her dumbly. She hadn’t tried talking, didn’t really know what to say, was waiting for Vi to ask her a real question and not just sputter at her.
She didn’t. Instead, she busied herself by pouring a glass of water and guiding a straw that was obnoxiously green to Caitlyn’s lips. She’d always had the ability to read what wasn’t overtly there. She had been a caretaker all of her life and Caitlyn greedily swallowed as many gulps as she could.
“How do you feel?” Vi eventually dared, setting the glass down and pulling her knees to her chest. She peered at Caitlyn like she was a puppy, a steel-toed boot shoved into her ribs, but patient all the same.
“Like I got hit by a Disc-Runner.”
Her voice came out scratchy, almost like air being let out a of tire. But it was her voice, and she was hearing it for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Vi let out a long sigh of relief and her shoulders dropped from right below her ears as if she had the same exact sentiment.
Vi’s fingers tightened around her pajama pants, decorated with little Runeterra Raptor logos stilted in a sea of cobalt “We didn’t think you were going to wake up. It’s been weeks, your dad has been pacing a hole in the floor.”
“Just my father?” Caitlyn scoffed weakly and a beautiful pink blush colored Vi’s cheeks.
“Well, me too. I should probably go get him, but I think it’s pretty late. Or early.”
“Violet it’s fine, really.” She reached out and took a hand that was too afraid to reach out first but held on with such ferocity. “That can wait.”
“He’s been keeping a log of all of your vitals, you know? You’ve been out long enough to heal. We’ve just been waiting for you to wake up.” Vi frowned and started to play with Cait’s fingers, suddenly filled with so much warmth and life. She never wanted to let them go.
Caitlyn felt her cheeks dampen, using her heels to push herself into a sitting position with some difficulty. Vi watched her with almost vigilant curiosity. Caitlyn grasped at her t-shirt, pulling her close. She needed to feel her close, it had been long. Too long.
“You don’t have to treat me like I’m broken,” Caitlyn purred, pulling Vi’s nose into the small of her neck, reveling in the way the woman clung to her, drooped her arm over her now-healed-mid-section. “I know I am.”
“Cait, you’re not broken, you’re healing.” Vi whispered, held her tighter. Her voice was marred with emotion and Caitlyn’s own shirt was sodden with tears. She felt Vi’s shoulders tremble and wondered how long it had been since Vi allowed herself to cry, allowed herself to be held instead of doing the holding.
Caitlyn started to card her fingers through the small hairs on the nave of Vi’s neck, scratching at the skin there, feeling every shiver and breath the woman took. She craved this, needed this. It was all she had wanted during the pain staking moments when she had been there, but hadn’t been. That hellish time when she couldn’t’ scream loud enough to be heard. She’d taken this for granted.
“I didn’t think you were going to come back.” Vi’s fingers curled into the silk of Caitlyn’s shirt.
“I almost didn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
Vi gazed up at Caitlyn with an almost childlike wonder, hand moving down to a pearl button each exhale brought goosebumps to her skin. She traced patterns on Vi’s upper back. “On the battlefield, before you were there, before you found me. I was ready to give up.”
She ran her thumb over the cross stitching on the button, around the edges, but didn’t say anything. Not for a few moments, just listening to the crackle of Caitlyn’s lungs. “Every single day that I was in Stillwater, I thought the same thing. I’d wake up and keep my eyes closed for as long as I could because sometimes that darkness was better than whatever would be waiting for me when I opened my eyes. Sometimes… sometimes your body knows that you need to stay where you are to keep you from where you think you need to be.”
“Did you ever feel guilty?”
“About not wanting to wake up? No, Cupcake. Not then.” She shifted so she was hovering over Caitlyn, careful not to jostle her too much, one hand resting above her shoulder. “Now though, I’d claw my way back from the depths of hell to get back to you.”
Caitlyn cupped her cheek, pulled herself forward and pressed her lips tenderly to Vi’s. She tasted sweet, of mint and of the slightest bit of bourbon. Violet sighed into the embrace, careful not to melt entirely. They broke apart, Vi’s fingers brushed across her jaw.
“Thank you,” Caitlyn whispered against her lips. “For waiting for me.”
“I’ve got all the time in the world, cupcake.”
More Posts from Kaywa25 and Others
Hello!
Welcome to my blog! For now, this is mostly dedicated to my Natasha Romanoff series posted on Wattpad and AO3. I wanted to have a better way to connect with my readers on both platforms, so, here we are! I will primarily post updates and sneak peaks of my fics on here (you can also find playlists for all my works at the bottom of this post), as well as reblogs of things that I recommend/love from other creators, but I also want to interact with you guys! If you've read my works or you're just coming across it for the first time, feel free to reach out to me with any questions or comments! I'd love to chat <3
Playlists:
n.r. - act 1
n.r. - act 2
on my hands n knees begging for a vi x reader fic where they keep getting interrupted which leads to desperate, whiny, quickie
i'll be quick | hockey player!vi x fem!reader, fluff, smut (mdni), wc: 6k+ | masterlist
content warnings: college/modern!au, smut (+18); vi being a needy/horny/whiny brat, service top?vi, bottom!reader, semi-public sex, kissing, fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving), overstimulation [idk what else i’m missing help]
note: first request!! ty for requesting!! i’ve been so excited to write for vi it was killing me. wrote it as modern au iydm as i could think of a more ways they got interrupted/where they would do it lol
Vi swears it’s not her fault—how could it be, when you look the way you do? She doesn’t think anyone could blame her, not really, not when you manage to completely undo her without even trying. You don’t even realize you’re doing it, that you’re so effortlessly pretty that she is left utterly useless whenever you’re around.
And God forbid you actually notice her staring—when you glance up at her from over your laptop, giving her that small, knowing smile, like you know exactly what you’re doing to her.
And she tries to keep it together, she really does, but you make it impossible.
It’s not just about how you look, though that’s definitely part of it. But she loves how you carry yourself, how smart you are, how dedicated you are. You’re an excellent student—always organized, always ahead of your deadlines, always balancing ten different things like it’s nothing.
And Vi knows she’s smart too; she wouldn’t have made it into this school, wouldn’t be holding onto her hockey scholarship, if she weren’t. But there’s something about the way you approach every little thing, like you know you’re capable of anything, that makes her want you even more.
It’s intoxicating, being around someone like you.
And maybe it’s selfish, but she loves the fact that you’re hers—that no matter how busy you both get, you still make time for her, still let her pull you into her arms, kiss you senseless, or fuck you so, so good.
These days, the problem is time.
There never seems to be enough of it.
Between your rigorous schedule and her demanding practices, you’re both constantly being pulled in different directions, and it drives Vi crazy. She hates how little time you get to spend together, how often she finds herself lying in her dorm room late at night, thinking about you and wishing you were there with her, laying in her bed, your clothes forgotten on her floor as she pushes your knees apart, listening to those delicious whines of yours while she inches her face closer… and closer… and closer to your wet pussy.
Vi groans loudly, annoyed she cant have you now.
And it doesn’t help that you don’t even share a dorm. You’ve each got your own roommates, which means that even when you do manage to carve out a few hours together, there’s always the risk of someone walking in.
It’s maddening, really—trying to navigate your relationship around other people’s schedules, stealing kisses in empty hallways and brushing your fingers together under the table in the dining hall, never able to just be with you the way she wants to be.
And then there’s the fact that she can never stop wanting you. She loves making you feel good, loves the way your body reacts to her touch, the way you whisper her name in that breathless, needy way that makes her heart race.
But no matter how much she wants you, something always gets in the way.
Maybe it’s your phone buzzing with a reminder about a study session, or the alarm on her watch going off to remind her she’s got practice in ten minutes. Maybe it’s the sound of your roommate’s key turning in the lock, making you both scramble to look presentable before they walk in.
Whatever it is, it always happens just when things are starting to heat up, leaving Vi groaning in frustration as she pulls away from you, her forehead resting against your shoulder as she mutters something about how unfair this all is.
And you—you always laugh softly, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before telling her that there’ll be other nights, other moments, other chances.
But Vi doesn’t want other nights. Not when she wants you now.
She had been frustrated since that time she was sat next to you in your dorm room, alone and studying.
The soft hum of your room’s desk lamp filled the most of quiet, broken only by the sounds of pages flipping and your voice drifting lazily into her Vi’s ears. You were perched on the carpeted floor, leaning slightly over the low table scattered with textbooks, notes, and half-finished assignments. Vi sat next to you, her legs stretched out in front of her, one elbow propped on the table as she twirled a pen between her fingers.
“And I don’t think he explained it very well, honestly,” you said, absentmindedly brushing your hair out of your face as you scanned your notes. “He kept going off on this tangent about historical context, which, honestly, is fine, but it didn’t really help me understand the actual analysis part. Do you think the midterm essay will—”
You paused mid-sentence, suddenly aware that Vi hadn’t responded in a while. You glanced up at her, and sure enough, her blue eyes were fixed on you, but not in the way you’d expect from someone actively listening.
She wasn’t looking at your notes, wasn’t even pretending to follow along. No, her gaze was focused on you, eyes drifting down to where the hem of your skirt meets the bare skin of your pretty thighs—her eyes a little too intense, a little too amused, and far too obvious for her to deny it.
“Vi,” you prompted, drawing out her name as you raised an eyebrow at her. “Were you even listening?”
“Hm?” she hummed, clearly unbothered as a slow smirk tugged at her lips.
She didn’t even try to cover up her distraction, and instead of answering, she leaned forward slightly, kissing your shoulder as her hand brushes against your knee.
You rolled your eyes, returning your attention to your notes. “You know, this is going to be on the midterm. You could at least—”
But you didn’t get to finish, because her hand was suddenly sliding just above your knee, her fingertips brushing lightly against the skin of your thigh. You stiffened, your words faltering as you glanced at her. She didn’t look guilty, not in the slightest. If anything, she looked like she was having the time of her life, her smirk growing as she noticed the way your breath hitched.
“Vi,” you said again, this time a little softer, your tone caught somewhere between amused and warning.
“Mmhm,” she replied nonchalantly, like she hadn’t just started trailing her fingers higher, pushing the hem of your skirt up with an almost maddening slowness. “You were saying something about… historical context?”
You huffed a quiet laugh, sitting back slightly and shooting her a knowing look. “I think we’re having trouble focusing, Violet.”
“Can you blame me?” she asked, her voice low, her fingers now drawing lazy circles against your thigh before slipping underneath your skirt completely, the tips of her fingers playing with the soft fabric of your panties.
You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back the grin that threatened to spread across your face. “We’re supposed to be studying.”
“I am studying,” she quipped, her tone light and teasing as her hand crept a fraction higher and her face coming close, feeling her breath against your neck. “I’m just… multitasking.”
Before you could respond—or give in to the way your heart was starting to pound against your ribs—the sound of a knock echoed through the room. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to make both of you freeze. Your head whipped toward the door, your face heating immediately as you scrambled to push Vi’s hand away.
“Hey, you in there?” your roommate’s voice called from the other side of the door.
Vi groaned quietly, leaning back and dragging her hand through her hair, her smirk quickly replaced by an exaggerated pout.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she muttered under her breath, slouching back against the table like the universe had personally conspired against her.
You shot her an apologetic look as you stood, smoothing your skirt back down and trying to look as composed as possible.
“Yeah, just a second!” you called out, your voice a little too high, a little too hurried.
Your girlfriend just shook her head, the corners of her lips twitching like she couldn’t quite decide whether to laugh or glare at the door.
Then, it happened again.
It had been a long, exhausting week, another one where your schedules never seemed to line up. Between Vi’s practices and your mounting workload for your classes, you barely had time to breathe, let alone spend time together. So when Vi got that text from you that your roommate just left for her classes, she showed up at your dorm that Saturday afternoon, sweaty from an early morning workout but unmistakably eager, you didn’t even think twice before pulling her inside and shutting the door behind her.
She looked good—too good. Her hair was damp from her shower after the gym, and she was wearing that snug black hoodie that you loved, the one that clung to her frame and her muscles just enough to drive you a little crazy.
Her hands were on your waist the second the door clicked shut, her lips brushing against your temple, then your jaw, then lower, like she’d been starving for your touch all week.
And, she practically was.
“You missed me,” you teased, your voice light as your fingers slid up the front of her hoodie.
“Mhmm… missed you,” she murmured against your neck, nodding her head as her hands grip your hips, tugging you closer before grabbing a handful of your ass. “Been thinking about you all morning. All week, actually.”
You laughed softly, your heart fluttering at the way her voice dipped, low and warm. She backed you toward your bed, her movements a little less teasing than usual, a little less patient. It wasn’t like her to rush, but you could feel it in the way her lips moved against yours when she kissed you, in the way her hands tightened around your waist. She’d been waiting too long for this, and she wasn’t shy about showing it.
The backs of your knees hit the edge of your bed, and you sank down onto the mattress, Vi following you immediately. She slid one knee onto the bed, her weight pressing you back gently as her hands trailed up your thighs, bunching your oversized shirt as they went. You could feel her smirk against your lips, her breath hitching slightly when your hands tangled in her hoodie to pull her closer.
And then—like some cruel joke—her phone buzzed.
She ignored it at first, too focused on the way your body shifted beneath hers, too caught up in the way your lips parted for her. But when the buzzing didn’t stop, her forehead dropped to your shoulder with a frustrated groan.
“Don’t,” you whispered against her ear, a quiet plea as your fingers slipped under the hem of her hoodie. “Just let it ring.”
She wanted to—God, she wanted to.
But she knew better.
“It’s probably my coach,” she muttered, the irritation thick in her voice as she reluctantly sat up, pulling her phone from her pocket. Her jaw clenched when she saw the name on the screen, and she ran a hand through her hair, looking at you with an apologetic grimace.
You watched her, sitting there with her phone in hand, clearly torn between staying with you and answering the call. “Vi,” you said softly, placing a hand on her thigh, “it’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” she snapped, though the frustration wasn’t directed at you. She tossed her phone onto the bed and dropped her head into her hands, exhaling sharply. “I swear the universe has something against me or something.”
You could see it in her posture, the way her shoulders slumped, how her fingers curled into her hair like she was holding herself back from punching something. She didn’t say it outright, but you could tell how much this bothered her, how badly she wanted to stay.
“I’m sorry,” she said finally, her voice quieter now, rough around the edges as she looked up at you. Her eyes softened when they met yours, guilt flickering behind her frustration. “I swear I’ll make it up to you.“
You leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss against her cheek, and smiled. “I know, baby.”
But as she left, throwing her hoodie back on and muttering under her breath about how ridiculous the timing was, you couldn’t help but notice the way her jaw tightened when she glanced back at you one last time. She looked like she was already planning how to make up for it, her frustration tempered only by her determination to make you feel as wanted as she knew you were.
Vi didn’t know how much longer she could go without having you.
It just kept happening. Again and again.
All the way up to the day of her big game.
The noise from the rink was still echoing faintly through the hallways of the arena, cheers fading as the crowd filtered out, but it all felt distant compared to the weight of Vi’s eyes on you. You were waiting outside the locker room as usual, leaning casually against the cinderblock wall as players and staff rushed past you, voices loud in celebration.
The door swung open, and Vi stepped out like she’d been looking for you the entire time. She spotted you instantly, her eyes locking on yours, and you couldn’t help the small smile that curved your lips. She looked a little flushed, her hair damp and sticking to her neck under her hoodie, her bag slung over her shoulder.
But there was something else too, something in the way her gaze didn’t move from you for even a second. It was heavy—her eyes dragging over you, slow and warm, like she couldn’t help herself.
You pushed off the wall and walked toward her, your voice light.
“Hi, superstar,” you teased, hoping to coax her into her usual cocky grin.
She didn’t smile. Vi’s lips stayed pressed in a thin line, and the way she looked at you sent a shiver down your spine—hungry, focused, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.
“You did so good, Vi,” you went on, trying to fill the quiet. “I heard everyone’s waiting for you at the party. They’re probably already chanting your name. It’s like…”
You trailed off as Vi took a small step toward you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off her.
She didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at you—her eyes roaming your face, dropping to your lips, then back up again.
Slowly, she shook her head, almost as if she was answering a question you hadn’t asked.
“Vi?” you murmured, tilting your head. “What’s wrong?”
Her voice was quiet, but the rough edge of it hit you square in the chest.
“I need you.”
It was so soft, so desperate… you wouldn’t be lying if you said that it almost sounded like she was about to cry.
Your breath caught, the words landing heavy on your chest. You blinked up at her, trying to process what she’d just said, but Vi didn’t let up. She stepped in closer, so close that you had to tilt your head back to meet her eyes. Her hand reached out, fingers brushing over your wrist before curling gently around it.
“Vi…” you started, unsure of what to say. You could hear the distant hum of people talking, laughter spilling from somewhere down the hall. “Everyone’s going to be looking for you. It’s your party—”
“I don’t care,” she cut you off, her voice low, breathless and strained.
She brought her free hand up to cradle your jaw, her thumb brushing softly along your cheek before letting it fall to your waist to pull you in a bit closer.
“Please… I’ll be quick, baby, I promise. Just…” Her voice wavered as her eyes searched yours, almost pleading.
You swallowed hard, the intensity of her gaze making your pulse race. You could feel the heat of her hands on your skin, could see the desperation written so plainly on her face. Vi didn’t usually let herself get like this—didn’t let her restraint snap—but tonight, it was barely holding together.
“Please,” she said softly again, leaning in to peck your lips softly as another way to convince you.
You didn’t have time to respond before Vi gave your wrist a soft tug, leading you down the hallway with an urgency that sent a thrill straight to your core. Her grip wasn’t rough, but there was no mistaking the purpose behind it.
The sound of the arena faded with each step as Vi pulled you into a quieter hallway, finally stopping when she found an empty room—a storage space of some kind, dimly lit and empty of everything but shelves of sports gear.
The door clicked shut behind you, and before you could even turn to say something, Vi was on you—her hands gripping your waist as she pushed you back against the wall. Any words you might have had died on your tongue, cut off as Vi crashed her lips against yours in a kiss so fervent it sent a shiver straight through you.
She kissed you like she’d been starving for days, her lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your knees weak. The soft whine that left her throat was barely muffled by the kiss, high and desperate, a sound that sent a jolt of warmth pooling in your stomach.
God, if the universe took this away from her again, right now, she’d probably let the world burn.
Her hands roamed eagerly, gripping at your hips, sliding around your waist as if she needed to feel you.
You tried to speak—tried to gasp out something teasing, anything to break the tension—but Vi didn’t let you. Her lips moved down to your jaw, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive spot just below your ear.
“Vi…” you managed, breathless, but the sound was cut off as her hands splayed across your lower back, then trailing down to grab your ass.
“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me,” Vi muttered against your skin, her voice low and strained. She kissed her way back up to your lips, pressing her body flush against yours as she did.
Her thigh slid between yours, drawing a soft moan from your lips that only made her whine again in response—higher, needier.
“Violet,” you breathed again, half scolding, half pleading, your hands reaching up to curl into her hoodie.
“I can’t help it,” she whined softly, pressing her forehead to yours for just a second as her chest rose and fell, her breathing heavy and uneven. “You—fuck, you always look so good. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Her voice cracked slightly, her desperation bleeding through as she dipped down to kiss you again—slower this time but no less needy. Her lips lingered, moving with purpose, her tongue brushing teasingly against yours.
Your fingers curled tighter into her hoodie, trying to hold onto something, anything, as Vi made a quiet, almost pleading noise into your mouth, like she wasn’t just kissing you—she was begging for you. Her hands slid down to your thighs, gripping just above your knees as she pressed herself closer, her body impossibly warm against yours.
“Please,” she whispered softly against your lips, the word barely audible but heavy enough to make your head spin. She pulled back just enough to look at you, her flushed face inches from yours, her eyes dark and wide.
“I need you so bad.”
Her voice cracked again, and it was almost her undoing. Vi looked desperate—like she was barely holding herself together, like the sheer sight of you had unraveled her completely.
You could see it in the way her hands trembled just slightly against your thighs, in the way her lips were swollen and parted, like she’d been kissing you for hours instead of minutes.
You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but Vi didn’t give you the chance. She kissed you again, harder this time, her hands sliding up under the hem of your shirt, her fingers grazing your bare skin. Every quiet moan you let out, every sharp inhale, only seemed to make Vi whine more—desperate, pleading little sounds that escaped her lips like she couldn’t help herself.
She sighed when she finally broke the kiss, panting softly as her forehead rested against yours again.
“Been wanting to fuck you for weeks...” Her voice was strained, so thick with need that it made your breath hitch.
Vi’s hands slid upward, her palms were warm against your skin as she pushed your shirt higher, her breathing shallow and uneven as though she was holding herself back. But when her hands finally cupped your tits, her restraint shattered.
“Fuck…” she whispered, almost like she was talking to herself, her voice husky and breathless.
Her thumbs brushed over the peaks of your breasts, and the moment her fingertips rolled softly over your nipples, you gasped, your back arching involuntarily.
Vi groaned in response, the sound deep and raw, her lips brushing against the curve of your neck as she pressed herself closer to you. Her fingers teased you again, rolling your nipples between them. She was trembling now—excitement coursing through her veins at the thought of finally being inside you, all wet and warm, all because of her… oh, fuck.
“V-Violet—“
“I’m here, baby.”
She worked her way across your neck and down to your collarbone, her mouth hot and unrelenting as she left a trail of hickeys that you knew would be impossible to hide. Her teeth nipped at your collarbone, making you gasp, and she chuckled softly against your skin—a low, breathy sound that only made you squirm against her more.
But her hands—her hands were just as impatient as her mouth. They trailed down from your chest, slipping under your shirt to tease the bare skin of your stomach.
She gave your tits one last squeeze before moving lower, her fingers dragging purposefully over your thighs and slipping beneath your skirt. Vi’s touch was rough and hurried now, her breath hitching as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down impatiently.
You let out a soft whine as the cool air brushed against you, your hands gripping at Vi’s shoulders to keep yourself steady. She smirked, straightening just enough to pull your panties free before shoving them into her back pocket like a prize.
Her eyes flicked up to yours, dark with hunger, and the corner of her mouth quirked up in a teasing grin.
“I’ll keep these safe for you,” she murmured, her voice low and possessive, her fingers brushing over your thigh.
Vi’s smirk faltered the second a hand slid up, brushing over the soaked heat between your legs. Her breath hitched, and she froze for half a second, like the realization of just how wet you were short-circuited her brain. Her fingers pressed against your pussy more firmly, teasing, slipping through your wet folds.
“You’re so wet for me,” she murmured, the words coming out like a growl, low and desperate.
Her lips found your neck again, kissing and biting as her fingers finally moved, slipping inside you with eagerly. Vi groaned at the way you clenched around her, her forehead pressing harder against your skin.
“You feel so fucking good,” she rasped, her voice strained, her fingers curling slightly as she started to move.
Vi’s lips curved into a sly grin as she felt how tight you were around her fingers, the heat of you gripping her so perfectly it made her groan low in her throat. She eased another finger inside your pussy with a soft moan against your neck. The stretch made you gasp, muffling the sound against her shoulder, your fingers digging into her strong biceps as your body trembled beneath her.
Her fingers moved faster now, thrusting and curling inside you, hitting that spongy spot inside you that made your body jerk and your breath catch in your throat. She couldn’t hold back her groans as she felt you grow wetter around her fingers, the slickness making her movements effortless as you drenched her hand. The sound alone—the wet, obscene noises and squelches of her fingers working—had her biting back a moan of her own.
You whimpered softly against her neck, your lips brushing her skin as you whispered, “Vi, d-don’t go too fast, I’ll be too loud.”
But Vi wasn’t listening. She didn’t stop, her fingers curling just right, the angle of her wrist shifting as she drove you closer to the edge. Her lips brushed against your ear, dazed and lost at the feeling of you.
“No… wanna hear you,” she murmured, shaking her head softly. “Need to fuck you like this… please…”
Your response was a broken moan that you immediately tried to smother against her neck, your face buried in her skin as your body shook. Your muffled cries vibrated against her. She didn’t slow down—if anything, her pace became more deliberate, her fingers thrusting deep and curling just right, her thumb brushing over you in a way that made you jerk in her arms.
You couldn’t respond, couldn’t do anything but press yourself tighter against her, hiding your face in her neck as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, your muffled moans and cries slipping past your lips no matter how hard you tried to hold them back. Your hands clutched at her shirt, desperate for some kind of anchor as she drove you closer and closer to the edge, her fingers relentless.
She slid her thumb up to press firmly against your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to send a sharp jolt of pleasure through your entire body. You gasped, hips jerking involuntarily as her name slipped from your lips in a breathless cry.
Vi groaned, her forehead pressing against yours again as she whispered, “That’s it, baby. I’ve got you.”
Her pace quickened, her thumb working in tandem with her fingers, brushing and circling your clit. You could feel the pressure building rapidly, your hands clutching at her shoulders, nails digging into her skin as your body writhed beneath her touch.
“Vi—” you whimpered, but she only groaned again, her thumb pressing harder.
“Come for me,” she whispered, her voice raw and wrecked, the need in her tone making your chest tighten. “Please, baby. I want to feel you.”
Her thumb circled faster on your clit, her fingers curling deep inside you, brushing that spot that made your hips buck. Your entire body tensed, and Vi could feel it—could feel the way your walls tightened around her fingers, the way your legs trembled against her.
You jerked again, your hands flying up to grip the back of her neck as your orgasm crashed over you, soaking her hand. Your cries spilled out in broken moans against her shoulder as you buried your face there, trembling uncontrollably.
Vi groaned at the feel of you, her fingers slowing but never stopping, working you through your orgasm.
“Oh.. fuck,” she murmured, her voice thick and low as she pressed kisses to your temple, her free hand running soothingly along your back.
She didn’t stop until you were shaking, your body softening against hers, completely undone. Only then did she ease her hand away, holding you close, her lips brushing against your ear.
Vi pulls back slightly, her chest rising and falling as she watches you with hooded eyes, her lips still parted as though she can’t quite catch her breath. Her hair is slightly disheveled, her jaw tight, and the flush on her cheeks deepens as her gaze sweeps over you—your trembling legs, the way your chest heaves, your swollen lips.
It’s enough to make her look intoxicated, drunk on the sight of you.
Your breaths come unevenly, and you try to regain some semblance of composure as your hands smooth down your skirt—though it does little to cover the disheveled state you’re both in.
With a breathy laugh, you tease, “Your friends are probably wondering where you are by now.”
You press your hands against the wall for balance, trying to steady yourself, but your legs feel weak, unsteady.
Vi blinks slowly, her expression soft yet utterly dazed, like her mind is still stuck on you and nothing else. Her fingers twitch at her sides, and she shakes her head, a small smirk tugging at her lips.
“They can wait,” she murmurs, her voice low and rough, her eyes still fixed on you as though she’s already made up her mind. “A little longer.”
Before you can respond, before you can even process what she’s doing, Vi drops to her knees with a quiet thud, her hands gripping your hips as she looks up at you, eyes dark with determination.
You start to stammer, “Vi—w-what are you—” but the words dissolve into a sharp gasp as she tilts her head forward, burying her face under your skirt.
The heat of her breath against your sensitive pussy is enough to make your knees buckle slightly, and you have to press a hand to the wall for support.
“Oh my god—” Your words trail off into a moan as her lips move with purpose, her hands sliding up to grip your thighs, holding you in place as she starts working you over again.
Her tongue drags along your sensitive folds hungrily. She’s relentless, almost feral in her need to keep going, and every sound you make seems to spur her on, her grip tightening, her pace quickening as if she can’t help herself.
“Vi—” you gasp, your fingers tangling in her hair as your body presses back against the wall for support.
The world outside this storage room feels a million miles away, irrelevant in the face of her overwhelming need to claim you, to pull more of those beautiful sounds from your lips. She clings to your thighs, her fingers digging into your skin as though she’s afraid you’ll slip away, pulling you closer to her face. Her breaths come heavy and uneven, breaking between every flick of her tongue, and you can feel the soft, frustrated whines vibrating against you.
She buries herself deeper, pressing her sexy nose against you, brushing against your clit as her tongue moves faster, more purposeful, and the sounds she makes—those low, needy whimpers and breathless moans—send heat pooling in your stomach.
“Vi—W-Wait—” Your voice cracks, your hands instinctively reaching down to tangle in her messy pink hair.
You tug lightly, trying to pull her back just enough for you to catch your breath, but it only seems to spur her on. She lets out a guttural noise, muffled against you, and tightens her hold on your hips, keeping you pinned against the wall as her tongue delves deeper.
She’s not just eager; she’s ravenous, her tongue lapping at you with a reckless kind of determination. She drags her lips along your folds, pausing to suck gently, then harder, her moans spilling against your skin like she’s losing herself in the act. Her hands slide down, fingers curling just under the curve of your ass, pulling you further into her mouth as though she needs more of you, as though she can’t get enough.
“Tastes so good… fuck,” she mumbles hoarsely between movements, muffled by your pussy.
She tilts her head slightly to look up at you, her pupils blown wide with need, her lips slick and glistening, and her expression is nothing short of worshipful.
You can only moan in response, your body arching involuntarily as she sucks hard on your clit, sending a white-hot jolt of pleasure through you. Your knees buckle, but she’s quick to adjust, one arm moving to support you as she keeps her pace relentless. Her mouth never falters, never stops, even as her breaths turn shaky, and you can feel the tension in her body like she’s wound up so tight she might break.
She starts to whine again, this high-pitched, needy sound muffled against you, and it makes your whole body burn with want. It’s almost too much, the way she’s devouring you so completely, so thoroughly, her desperation written in every trembling moan and ragged breath.
You feel yourself getting closer all over again, the knot in your stomach tightening with every passing second, and you can’t even form the words to warn her.
Vi seems to know, though, because she presses harder, faster, the vibrations of her needy whimpers pushing you over the edge.
You cry out, your voice breaking as another orgasm racks through your body, and she groans deeply against you, her fingers tightening their grip as she keeps going, drawing every last bit of your release from you. Even as your legs tremble and your body tries to pull away from the overwhelming sensation, she doesn’t stop, her tongue still flicking against you with unrelenting hunger.
“Vi—” You whine, tugging weakly at her hair, your head falling back against the wall.
She finally slows down, her lips lingering as though she can’t bear to part from you just yet, her breaths coming hot and heavy against your skin. When she finally pulls back, her chin is glistening with your cum, her lips swollen and parted as she looks up at you with a dazed, almost drunk expression, her chest heaving. Vi stays on her knees for a moment, her hands still gripping your thighs as she looks up at you, her chest rising and falling with every heavy breath.
She’s grinning, wide and wolfish, her lips shiny and swollen, her cheeks flushed, and there’s a satisfaction in her eyes that only comes from getting exactly what she’s been craving. Her pink hair is a mess where your fingers had tugged and twisted, strands sticking out at odd angles, but she doesn’t seem to care.
If anything, it makes her grin even smugger.
She wipes her chin lazily with the back of her hand, the movement slow and deliberate, like she’s savoring the moment.
“Told you I’d be quick,” she says, her voice husky, tinged with a playful rasp. “Though, honestly, I think I deserve extra credit for being that good under pressure.”
You groan, your face still warm from the aftermath, and roll your eyes as you push at her shoulder lightly with your knee. “You’re impossible, Violet.”
Vi stands up slowly, stretching her back as she towers over you again, but her grin never fades. She leans down, bracing one hand against the wall beside your head, her face hovering close to yours, her lips quirking in that trademark cocky smirk.
“Impossible to resist, maybe,” she teases, her voice dropping low, brushing a kiss over your jaw before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.
You shake your head, exasperated but unable to fight the small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“Full of you, actually,” Vi quips shamelessly, her tone dripping with cheekiness, and she snickers at the way your face heats up again.
You roll your eyes, trying to catch your breath, but her playful expression makes it hard to keep your composure.
“Can I have my panties back now?” you ask, your voice strained but teasing, as you reach down to try and adjust yourself, realizing they’re still tucked into her back pocket.
Vi looks down at the waistband of your panties for a second, feigning deep thought as she taps her chin, her smirk never leaving her face.
“Mmmm,” she hums, looking up at you with a glint of mischief in her eyes. “No.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m dead serious.”
And she really was.
Because the whole night, she didn’t let you forget—whispering in your ear about how you were bare underneath your skirt as everyone else danced around you, her breath warm against your skin.
Her playful smirk never left her face as she leaned in close, whispering about how you looked so much better without them, her fingers grazing the edge of your skirt as if to remind you of just how good she made you feel.
ty for reading ! | masterlist
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vi and i'm thinking about "is your lip gloss really that expensive? i really wanna kiss you now" or something along the lines of THATT i'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure i #NEEDTHAT
wait stop i can totally imagine this for the popstar!reader au where you bring her as your date to one of your red carpet events, and she's in this insane gettup --
her arm wrapped around your waist, posing for the paps (and yeah, she's a little too comfy in front of the cameras now, to the point where she's got her own lil fanbase), till she turns to smile at you, and it's loud as all living fuck on the red carpet, but obviously, there's video cameras everywhere, and later, you've got people who are doing grainy af zooms of her, lipreading, bc she clearly leans in to try and steal a kiss, but you laugh, pressing a palm to her chest, leaning back slightly --
"vi! my lipstick!"
she grins, a sharp, toothy, wolfish thing --
"yeah, but how expensive is it really?"
you crinkle your nose, blinking at her even as a dozen different cameras flash in your direction; the paps are good and they know people will be scrambling for this later.
"it's not the lipstick itself that's expensive --"
vi's grin stretches; she quirks an eyebrow.
"then what's the issue? c'mon, baby... just one tinsy little kiss?" she bats her lashes and you feel your stomach twist tight.
damn her and her stupid, perfect puppy-dog eyes.
you make a show of rolling your eyes.
"one kiss."
vi leans in before you have the chance to pull her away -- and of course, it's not a tinsy little kiss at all. and she makes a show of it -- tugging you in hard enough for you to stumble into her, till you're just off-balance enough for her to dip you back, grinning against your lips as you scrabble at her mcqueen blazer, hung across her shoulder and slipping off at the sudden movement.
"m-mph -- vi --!" you surface gasping, even as she pulls you back up with a wide, satisfied grin. the paps are going crazy, and there's someone ushering you down the red carpet because you're holding up the line. but vi's got your lipstick smeared all over her lips and she makes no move to try and wipe it away.
instead, she just tilts her head and reaches forward to thumb at the corner of your mouth, where you're sure your perfectly done lip is now a kiss-bruised mess.
"mm," she hums, "guess it's not as waterproof as the makeup artist said."
not even a month later, three different makeup brands drop "kiss-proof" lippies, with marketing campaigns centered around cheeky references to "for even the steamiest of red-carpet kisses."
─── Ⅵ CHAPTER TWO: FISTS TO A KNIFE FIGHT
violet; 5,021 words; fluff, drama, brief depiction of violence (vi kicks ass), fake dating, hockey!vi, figure skater!reader, powder being hilarious, patching up injuries trope, wlw pining, mel is a badass, platonic gym soulmates jaycevi, no "y/n"
summary: in which both you and vi are suffering about each other, and you friends/fam try to help to varying degrees of success.
a/n: here it is !!! chapter two :) i hope everyone enjoys and that you're having a SMASHING beginning to your 202THRIVE. i truly had the best time writing powder in this chapter and i hope u guys love her just as much as i do u__u
< table of contents
─── Ⅵ "HASN'T IT ONLY BEEN LIKE… three weeks since —”
“Yes Powder, it’s only been three weeks since Cait and I broke up —”
“I mean, for the record, I never liked her —”
“Yes, you made that abundantly clear even when we were dating —”
“She was a stuck-up little horse-shoe crab with a weird obsession with turtlenecks and I mean, that always felt like a red flag to me —”
“Powder. Focus.”
“Oops — sorry,” Powder giggles, “what were you saying again? Something about a hot figure skater girl who’s tryna be your girlfriend?”
Vi sighs, adjusting her phone, propped up against a stack of pillows as she lazes in bed, her cheek pillowed on her crossed arms as she watches Powder fiddle with something or other through the screen.
“Trying to be my fake girlfriend,” Vi corrects.
Powder lifts up her goggles, “Oh, I like this one better already. So? What’s the issue?”
Vi groans, burying her face in her arms, “The issue is that…” she flips onto her back, staring at the faint Christmas lights strung up around her room, the soft diffuse lighting making her pause. She thinks back to the look of you on that kitchen floor, the way your eyes had lit up when you laughed, how your lips had tasted — sweet and intoxicating — against hers.
“I feel like… parts of her remind me of — of Cait.”
“Gee Wilikers, so you've gotta thing for ice queens that make questionable fashion decisions — please sis, this is not news. Not to me, not to Vander, not to the lady down the street who always tries to give us soggy croissants —”
Vi frowns, “What do you mean? And those croissants were just a little buttery —”
“Sweet god — you remember that one chick you were head over heels for when we were kids?”
Vi only frowns harder at the ceiling lights.
“You… mean the one with the long hair and —”
“Yes, the one you said looked like she could ruin your life?”
Vi makes a noncommittal noise, heat washing into her cheeks at the memory.
“I mean,” Vi muses, “she kinda did.”
Powder sighs, “Sis, we were twelve. Whatever. And then there was the basketball captain during your senior year —”
“She was like the hottest chick I’d ever seen up until that point!”
“Uh-huh — she also unironically wore crocs when she wasn’t on the court —”
“Hey, those shoes are comfortable —”
“They’re an affront to fashion and we both know it. But anyway — point being — why’re you acting surprised that you’re once again falling for someone that is A, fantastically talented at a thing, and B probably has mommy-issues up the wazoo?”
Vi swallows, the memory of your laughter ringing through her like church bells on a Sunday morning. She whines, tossing an arm over her eyes.
Powder laughs.
“Ohhh, I know that sound.”
“What sound?” Vi flips back over, squinting at her sister from her cracked phone screen.
Powder smirks, flipping an L-wrench between her fingers before pointing the straight end at Vi.
“The sound of a woman being completely and utterly pussy-whipped.”
Vi squawks, shooting up on her bed, frowning down at her phone.
“I — I am not pussy-whipped!”
Powder shrugs, dropping her eyes back onto her project, “Say what you will, but this is exactly what you sounded like when you first had a crush on that weird, turtleneck-loving mongoose —”
“What is it with you and turtlenecks? And I thought she was a horseshoe-crab? Now she’s a mongoose? They’re not even remotely similar —”
“Evil can come in all shapes and sizes —”
“She’s not evil —”
“Tell that to all her turtlenecks —”
“Okay, no what is it with you and turtlenecks —”
“I dunno! It’s just a vibe-thing, okay?” Powder drops her L-wrench and gestures towards the screen, her eyes wide even as Vi stares, nonplussed as her younger sister motions vaguely into the ether, “Like… what’s she tryna hide behind all those high necklines? And what does she have against the art and perfection that is the human collarbone — I mean —”
Vi nearly throws her phone across the room. She settles for screaming into her pillow instead.
Powder laughs, dusting off her hands and shrugging.
“All I’m saying is — this new girl, whoever she is — sounds like a better deal already.”
“How could you possibly know that? You know nothing about her.”
Powder hitches an eyebrow, “I know that she pretended to be your new girlfriend in front of horseshoe-crab-mongoose and her new button-cap mushroom of a sidepiece.”
“Button-cap — sidep— what the fuck —?”
Powder waggles her fingers, “Evil in all shapes, remember?”
Vi lets out another exasperated groan, “This was pointless —”
“It wasn’t! You just have to take her out on a date!”
“What?”
“You. Take skater-girl. On a date.”
Vi stares.
“B-but I can’t do that.”
“And… why not?” Powder tilts her head so far to the right she’s almost at 90-degrees with the camera.
Vi huffs out a breath, “Cause… the whole campus thinks we’re actually dating. So it’d be weird —”
“For you to take your fake girlfriend on a real date?”
“Exactly!” A pause. “Wait —”
Powder cackles, waving her hand.
“Lemme know how the date goes, sis! Oh! And try not fuck this one up, yeah? Wouldn’t want the whole campus to know that you fumbled an Olympic athlete, hm? Kay, love ya, bye!”
The Facetime call drops, and Vi’s left staring at a too-close image of her own bewildered face, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open. She blinks at her own reflection for a few more seconds before the screen fades to black and she’s left with nothing but the silence of her own room to keep her company.
She slumps back against the wall, kneading her eyes with the heels of her hands as she runs over Powder’s words.
Take your fake girlfriend on a real date.
But she can’t quite tamp down the strange giddiness that rises beneath her ribs at the thought.
She almost jumps out of her skin as her phone lights up again and she scrabbles at it, flicking it open only to see a single line of text from Jayce —
mel wants to talk.
“I don’t want to waste anyone’s time here so —” Mel laces her fingers on the cafeteria table, looking down the bridge of button nose as if she were interviewing a candidate for a consulate seat, not tucked into a far corner of the dining commons on a busy Thursday night.
Vi blinks, “Wow, not one for smalltalk, huh? And here I was hoping that we could chat about the weather or something.”
She glances at Jayce, who only throws her a helpless sort of shrug.
Mel ignores them both, her eyes sharp as she looks Vi over.
“What are your intentions with my friend?”
Vi’s eyebrows shoot up as she sputters, “M-my intentions?” Her gaze slingshots over to Jayce once more, and this time, he has the decency to look just a bit sheepish.
Mel’s cocks her head, clearly waiting. Vi sputters.
“W-what d’you — your friend was the one that came onto me —”
“She saved you from what looked like a terribly uncomfortable conversation with your ex,” Mel says, her tone so smooth and certain that for a second, Vi pauses to wonder if she might actually be able to simply speak things into existence with nothing but her conviction in her own words.
“She announced to nearly the whole school that we were dating!”
Mel sighs, “Yes, which is why I’m asking you — what are your intentions with her?”
Vi stares, heat now beginning to eat up the back of her neck ,”Well up until that happened, I didn’t have any intentions with her —”
“So now you do?” Mel’s voice is sharp.
Vi groans, throwing up her hands, “What? No! I mean —” she runs a hand through her hair, “I don’t know!”
Jayce leans forward, “Look, Vi — what Mel’s trying to say is —”
“I’ve never seen her like this before.”
Vi goes still. Jayce sighs.
“What… do you mean?”
Mel lets out a long breath, and for the first time, her flawless exterior cracks ever so slightly as she leans back, folding her arms across her chest.
“Ever since that party, she’s been… distracted. And her routine’s suffering because of it —”
Vi lets out an incredulous laugh, “You’re raking me over the coals because her little figure skating routine isn’t going well? Alright, I’m outta here —”
Vi tries to stand up, but Mel’s hand shoots out, quick as a flash, and when she catches Vi’s wrist, her grip is startlingly strong. Vi grunts, her arm jerking back as she glares at Mel.
“You don’t understand,” Mel says, and there’s a quiver like a hairline fracture in the low thrum of her voice that makes Vi pause, “She’s… she’s not as strong as people think she is —”
Vi scoffs, “Not sure that’s the word I’d use but —”
Mel shakes her head, “I know what people say about her, that she’s frigid — the ice princess, right? But I’ve known her since we were kids — she’s not like that.”
Mel’s voice softens, and Vi sinks back into her seat, watching as Mel pulls back her hand.
“She’s just… passionate and a bit naive —”
“Tch, really.” Vi rolls her eyes, but she can’t help the grin that threatens her lips at the memory of you, admitting to her on the kitchen floor of the party that you’re ‘not the best with impulsivity’, the soft noise you’d made at the back of your throat when she’d kissed you, how soft your skin had been beneath the hem of that wet dream of a dress —
“— this sport’s been her whole life,” Mel says, fixing Vi with an imploring look, “and whatever you did or didn’t say or do to her at that party… it’s got her in her head. And she’s not the type to fall in love easily —”
“Whoa, whoa, it was one kiss —” Vi balks at the word ‘love’ but Mel only pushes on, her voice once more taking on it’s lacquer-like shine, her eyes dark as a moonless night —
“I’m just asking you to please think about what you want out of this because…” she lets out a breath, leaning back once more, “it might’ve been just one kiss to you. But it sure as hell wasn’t just that for her.”
This is starting to get ridiculous, you think, for the fourth night in a row, sitting up in bed and glancing at the small LED clock currently blinking 12:38AM at you in a traitorous red light. You groan, scraping your nails against your scalp as you slump back into your blankets.
Moonlight pools cool and silver over your sheets, slit into slivers by the half-closed blinds.
You take a deep breath and try to clear your mind, but seven minutes later, you’re jerking back the covers to rummage around for a pair of running shorts and a sweater.
Ten minutes after that, you set off on your normal jogging route, one earbud thumping an upbeat EDM song as you let your thoughts wander. It’d been one week since the sorority party and the kiss in the kitchen. One week since Vi had nearly run out of that kitchen, looking as if she were about to be sick.
Your stomach churns. Were you really that terrible at kissing? It didn’t seem like she was having a bad time — warmth coils in the pit of your belly even as you try desperately to tamp down the electric tingle of desire that shoots up your spine every time you let your mind wander near the memory.
It’d been one hell of a kiss. But what you remembered most was the way Vi’s expression had broken open with laughter as she’d sat next to you, calling you princess, telling you that she was impressed. How bewildered she’d looked the second before you kissed her, how she’d moaned low and long when you ran your tongue across her lips. How she’d opened her mouth and let you in.
“Oh shit —” your foot catches on a small crack in the pavement and you stumble forward a few steps, catching yourself before you actually hit the ground.
“You alright there, darlin’?” a slimy voice calls from somewhere behind you, and you whip around to find a group of three men sauntering towards you, cigarette butts and empty beer cans scattered around their feet as they push up from the stoop they’d been loitering on.
“Uh yeah — fine. Thanks,” you say, taking a few steps back, quickly taking stock of your surroundings. It’s only a few minutes passed 1AM on a Saturday night, but the street you’re on is quiet, a small by-way between two residential neighborhoods, the row of houses to your right look foreclosured, their windows dark and boarded up, the low hedges in front of them overgrown and ill-watered.
“You sure? Don’t need a hand with nothin’?” Another one of the men asks, smirking as they advance on you, looking you up and down, their gazes nothing short of salacious. The third man chuckles, pulling a tiny switchblade out of his pocket.
“C’mon, dollface,” the first one says, opening his hands, “wanna keep us company for a little while? Promise we’ll show you a good time.”
Ice seizes your veins as you try to calculate how long it’d take for you to sprint to the nearest house that might have someone living in it. You stumble back half a step, ready to take off when a smear of red flashes by you and a sharp crunch sounds before one of the guys is skidding across the pavement, knocked out cold.
“The fuck —” the second man gapes at the red-hooded figure for a breath before he dives for them. But the figure’s too quick, ducking under his arm and catching him with a solid punch to the stomach that sends him reeling.
But as they pull back, the red hood slips off to reveal a shock of bright pink hair.
“V-Vi?!”
You squeak, jumping back as she turns towards the third guy, his face split in a nasty snarl, the switchblade glinting dangerously in his hand. Vi eyes the blade in his hand for a second before smirking, cocking her head.
“C’mon big guy — you wanna see how that ends?”
The man hesitates for half a second before yelling and swinging wide, but Vi’s fist connects with his jaw and he tips backwards, just as one of his friends is staggering back onto his feet, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes wild as he dives for Vi from behind.
You scream.
“Vi! Lookout!”
Vi’s elbow jerks back just in time to catch him in the chest, but he still manages to skim his fist along Vi’s cheek, and the impact jerks her head back. You let out another abortive shout as the knife-wielding man manages to catch Vi around the middle, grappling her even as she kicks out, her foot catching his friend on the chin and sending him to the ground again.
You look around frantically, eyes catching on a broken tree branch caught in one of the rusting fences — you scramble over and pull it free, heaving the surprisingly heavy branch behind you and swinging your whole body weight into it as you bring it crunching down onto switchblade’s calf.
He lets out a shout of pain, dropping to one knee, his grip loosening just enough for Vi to jerk her head back, butting him in the chin with her skull.
Dark red blood spills from his lips as Vi rips out of his arms and grabs for your hand.
You drop the branch and let Vi tug you behind her, the pair of you sprinting off till you reach the nearest through-street, the baseline thrum of car engines a welcome relief from the eerie quiet.
“What the hell were you doing out here so late?” Vi asks, rounding on you, even as her own chest heaves with the exertion.
You straighten up, pressing a palm to your stomach to stem the stitch twisting in your side.
“I — I was on a jog!”
“At —” Vi checks her phone, “1:17 in the morning?!”
You scowl, “I couldn’t sleep so I was trying to clear my head!”
“You know there are treadmills in our gym right? The gym that’s open twenty-four hours —”
“It’s not the same! And —” you cut off abruptly, slamming your mouth shut, your teeth worrying at your bottom lip.
“And what? God, holy shit — what were you gonna do if I didn’t show up?”
You crinkle your nose, sidestepping the question with, “What were you doing out so late, then?”
Vi blinks for a second before straightening up with a sigh.
“Doing the same thing you were.”
You throw up your hands, “Why’re you allowed to go running around at night, but I’m not?”
“Because I know how to lay a guy out when he tries to get fresh! Clearly, a skillset you don’t seem to share!”
“I could’ve outrun them…” you mumble, tugging at your sleeves.
Vi scoffs, “Right, and if you couldn’t?”
But your eyes catch on a cut along her eyebrow, the bruise blooming dark on her left cheek. You reach out a hand; she catches your wrist before you can touch her face, her expression guarded.
“You’re bleeding.”
Her grip loosens but she still shrugs you off, “It’s nothing.”
You frown, shaking your head. When she relaxes her fingers, you twist your hand around to catch her wrist instead.
“C’mon.”
“Uh… where’re we going?”
You lead her down the street, pausing at a crosswalk to look both ways even though the street itself is very much deserted.
“My place.”
Vi lets out a soft laugh, “Geez, princess. Are all you figure skaters this forward? Y’know usually, you’d take a girl out on a date first before inviting her home.”
You shoot her a nasty look over your shoulder.
“We’re already ‘dating’, remember?”
Vi’s smirk drops from her face, but she doesn’t pull her hand away. And by the time you reach the front of your building, she’s at a level with you, her arm hanging limp in your grip. You cast her a sidelong glance before dropping her hand and rummaging around for your keys.
“Hm. Nice place,” she says, looking around as you push into your apartment, tossing your keys in a turtle-shaped bowl by the door and toeing off your shoes. “Bit far from campus though, no?”
You head for the bathroom, flicking on the lights as you go.
“Yeah, but it’s closer to the rink — aha!” you pull out the first aid kit under the bathroom sink and make your way back into the small living room to find Vi standing awkwardly by the door. You jerk your head towards the couch.
“Sit.”
Vi sighs, eyeing the room over once more before kicking off her shoes and slumping down on the couch. You perch yourself in front of her, leaning in to check on the thin slash on her forehead.
“It’s not very deep but… I’m still gonna need to wipe it first.”
“Do your worst, princess.”
You roll your eyes, tearing open an antiseptic wipe with your teeth and reaching up to dab gingerly at the cut. Vi winces dramatically, chuckling when you give her another glare.
“So…” Vi says, in a bracing attempt to fill the thickening silence.
Your brow creases as you continue to wipe down the cut, flipping the wipe over to the clean side.
“Heard you’re training for the Olys… that’s… impressive.”
You sigh, putting down the now stained alcohol wipe and digging around for some neosporin.
“I have to qualify first.”
“Yeah? And what’s that look like?”
“Well… the quickest way to do that is to just be the best figure skater in the entire country.”
Vi lets out an incredulous laugh, “Oh yeah. It’s that simple, huh?”
You fix her with a look as you squeeze a tiny dollop of neosporin onto your finger.
“It is. But simple doesn’t mean it’s easy — hold still.”
You gingerly drag your finger across the cut, blowing gently before pulling back to tear open a bandaid.
“Barring that though, I basically have to consistently place within the top 3 at all the international competitions I participate in and… hope that the skating union thinks I’m good enough to represent the country.”
You press the bandaid to her forehead, leaning back to assess your work before letting your hand drop.
“Oh,” Vi breathes, watching as you fold the discarded bits of wrapping paper into smaller and smaller squares. “Damn, princess. You really are… good, huh.”
You let out a soft laugh, shrugging, “It’s… kinda the only thing I’ve ever been… good at.” You sigh, reaching into the first aid box for a cold compress, breaking the seal and shaking it in your hand to activate it.
Vi hums as you reach up to press the cold pack to her cheek, her hand catching yours before you can pull away completely. She doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches in your chest or the way your eyes go wide in the slant-wise light.
“Hm. You seem plenty good at getting yourself into trouble though.”
Her voice is low, husky in a way that catches even herself off guard. But you lick your lips and Vi can’t stop herself from glancing down at the soft pink flash of your tongue.
“Says the girl who bought her fists to a knife-fight,” but there’s no real bite in your voice, and still, your hand is poised beneath hers, pressed to the rapidly cooling pack on her cheek.
Neither of you seem to notice the steadily decreasing space between you, nor the rapid uptick of your pulse, nor the way your knee is somehow slotted between Vi’s legs, her free hand resting against your thigh.
“Where I grew up, a good pair of fists’ll take you much further than any fancy knife-work.”
You’re so close you can taste the heat of her words as they wash across your lips.
“Is this… the part of the night where you tell me you tragic backstory? Y’know, the one that makes you such a good hockey player?” you ask, grinning as Vi scoffs, her hand inching up your thigh till her fingers skim yours. She gives your other hand a squeeze, the one that’s still clutched beneath hers on the cold compress against her cheek.
“We really oughtta do something about that mouth of yours — it’s gonna get you into some real trouble some day.”
You tilt your head slow, your eyes caught on the dangerous curve of Vi’s mouth as you suck in a soft breath, her free hand linking with yours —
“And here I thought I was already in the realest kind of trouble I could find…”
Vi’s thumb skims along the soft pad of your hand and you wince, pain shooting up your arm as you jerk back.
“Ouch —”
“Sorry —”
You both look down and the moment fades from around you like a dissipating breath on a winter morning’s chill. She frowns down at your hand even as you try to tug it free.
“It’s nothing, I just —”
“Hold still,” Vi’s voice is still soft but stern as jerks your hand up to eye level.
A sharp splinter peaks out from the pad of your palm, just beneath your thumb and Vi sighs, dropping the hand holding the compress to her cheek.
“You got tweezers or something?”
You nod mutely, tugging away to grab a pair from your makeup bag and bringing it back.
“Guess I should be thanking you,” Vi says, frowning as she squeezes at the tender skin around the splinter, trying to get to a good angle.
“For what? You’re the one that saved me,” you say, your breath hitching as she nudges against the splinter with her thumb, her wincing as you let out a small whine.
“Shit, sorry — I mean — I would’ve been in trouble if you didn’t take that guy out with the branch — don’t move — I think I got it —”
“I just…” you shrug your free arm, watching as Vi tugs the small shard of wood from your flesh, a bead of blood collecting on your skin.
Vi chuckles, shifting back to flick the splinter from the tweezer head and hand it back to you.
“Just moved without thinking?”
You flush, nodding, rubbing at your hand, glancing anywhere but at Vi’s face.
The quiet gathers around you like smoke, swirling and thick till you can’t stand the weight of it anymore and turn back towards her.
“Look, I’m sorry I pretended to be —”
“Do you wanna go out sometime with —”
The pair of you speak at the same time and you freeze, staring at one another.
“Sorry, what?”
“No, you —” Vi breaks off, swallowing.
You shake your head, “I — you said —”
“Forget what I —”
You frown, “Did you just ask me out on a real date?”
Vi goes pink, pushing her tongue against her cheek as she glares at a blank spot on the wall.
“Not if you’re actually sorry for trying to be my fake —”
“There’s a really cute place off Centre street —”
Vi’s eyebrows hike up, a grin twitching at her lips, “Yeah?”
You purse your lips, heat crawling up your neck and kissing into your cheeks.
“They’ve got boozy cupcakes.”
Vi laughs, “Oh shit, yeah?”
“I’ve… always wanted to go but…”
“So why haven’t you?”
You swallow, the ticking, post-midnight quiet collecting sweet around the pair of you like honey.
“Th-they’re kind of big and — I’ve… I’ve never had anyone to… to share one with.”
“Kinda big, huh?” Vi asks, her voice licentious, her eyebrows waggling.
You give her a tiny shove, “Oh my god — nevermind —”
“Let’s do it.”
You blink, your lashes fluttering as Vi shifts back half an inch, sucking in a breath as if reminding her own lungs of the action of breathing. There’s a berry-stained darkness to her cheeks and a lost, liquid look to her eyes. You wonder if it’s just the dimness of your apartment but when she turns her gaze back onto you, you find yourself arrested in it’s light.
“Okay,” you breathe.
And Vi nods again.
“I’ll uh — text you — wait, do we even have each other’s numbers?”
You shake your head, watching as she digs her phone from her pocket.
“No but I —” you pause as your hand hovers over her proffered phone. Vi frowns.
“You… what?”
You take her phone and quickly punch in your number, hitting the save button and handing the phone back to her.
Vi glances down at your contact before shooting you a quick text.
You jump slightly, biting your lips as you flick open your screen, your cheeks staining a darker and darker shade of red as you flip your screen towards her.
“I might’ve… asked Jayce for your number.”
Vi stares at the saved contact — Violet <3
“Wh —”
“It was so that if anyone came up to me after that party to ask if we were really dating, I could —”
“Pretend to be my fake girlfriend better?” Vi finishes, smirking, even though her stomach flips inside her.
“Yeah… something like that,” you say, snatching your phone back, your eyes downcast.
Vi runs a hand through her hair, fisting it tight enough to sting as she backs towards the door. Her heart is thumping somewhere in the back of her throat, making a truly valiant attempt at leaping from her mouth and all she can think is that she needs to get out of here before she does something that she’s really going to regret.
“So… I should —” she gestures at the door.
“Yeah, it’s late — be careful — do you want me to call you a cab?” You push to your feet even as Vi shakes her head.
“Nah, I’ve — I can jog back — it’s not far —”
“Okay… if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure, princess.”
The silence pools at your feet as you take half a step forward, a hand pressed to your chest, the other behind your back. Vi watches, her whole body tingling as she fumbles for her shoes, a heady drunkenness soaking into her skin that might be just her tiredness catching up with her or something else entirely.
“Kay — I’ll see you.”
You put up a hand and wiggle your fingers. Vi clears her throat as she pulls open the door and slips out, bringing the door shut behind her with a long exhale, sagging against it the second it’s closed.
You hiss out a breath, stumbling forward to press your forehead to the cool metal as Vi closes her eyes, her back braced against it on the other side.
You let your lashes flutter shut just as Vi forces hers open, and both of you murmur at the exact same time —
“Well, fuck.”
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Lessons of love - Part 3
Nerd!Natasha x Rogers!F Reader
Wdym I'm writing fic instead of resting 😅 anyway, I just had to finish this to give my brain a break.
Whatever this is, blegh, enjoy it.
Part 1, Part 2
--
Melina’s study was an amplification of her daughter’s room. It was all neatly displayed, wall to wall covered in books, some in other languages that you were sure she was fluent in.
There was a laptop on her desk, atop it a pair of reading glasses; a gentle reminder that geniuses are human too.
“It’s not what it looks like” Natasha spoke first. You and Melina scoffed at the same time.
“You two look like a couple. So, am I to understand that it’s incorrect, and you’re going around kissing every girl that crosses your path, Natalia?”
Natasha turned to you, her eyes pleading for help. You crossed your arms.
“No, go on. I’d like to hear what you have to say about this”
“I… uh…” your girlfriend mumbled and you turned to her mother, finally giving Nat a break.
“Mrs. Romanoff, I’m terribly sorry for the way you found out. Truth is, I’ve been crazy about Natasha for such a long time, but never really thought I had a chance with someone like her. And then, Fury paired us in Chemistry and things just went from there” you turned to look at Natasha for a moment, smiling. “To be fair, we only made it official on Wednesday”
“Natasha, she’s a keeper” Melina said, blown away by your sincerity. Natasha had to agree. You had a way with words that she admired. “Well, congratulations. I know you’re both responsible girls, but there’s not gonna be late night outings during school days. I can’t obviously speak for your parents, Y/N, but I hope Natasha keeps her excellent grades and you both focus on school”
“I agree, of course” you nodded.
“Now, as for safe sex”
“What?” you jumped, while Natasha stared at the ceiling. She pleaded in Russian, but her mother dismissed her words. “Mrs. Romanoff, we’re not there yet. At all, so don’t worry”
“I’ve had the talk with Natasha, of course” Melina spoke, and it was as if she didn’t listen to you at all. “I know your father is a surgeon, but if he’s not up for helping you with birth control at some point and you need an adult to accompany you, please know I’ll be happy to come with you. You must be responsible when having intercourse”
“Which hasn’t happened yet, Mama!” Natasha intervened.
“Right” you said, though… to be fair, it had crossed your mind. Especially when your girlfriend was towering over you as she opened the car door… or did anything, really.
You might be the horn dog in this relationship.
“I’m just obligated as a parent to mention it. If you have questions, please come to me” she said, reading your flustered expression. Busted.
“Yes, Mrs. Romanoff” you said.
“Very well! Now, please, would you like to join us for dinner tonight? We should go out and celebrate!”
“Yes, of course” you smiled, sensing the hard part was over. Melina clapped excitedly, walking you out of her study.
“I’m so sorry” Natasha rushed as soon as you were out. You stopped her with a short kiss, smiling against her lips. “Why…?”
“I’m just… happy. That’s all” you said. “It’s ok, baby. Your mom is looking out for you. I don’t mind the talk, or anything else”
“That thing you said… about liking me for a long time. That was just to get her to calm down, right?”
“Oh, Nat” you leaned to kiss her again. “You’re so clueless, my love”
The girl blushed. She had a hard time deciding which term of endearment made her knees weaker.
“I have to go, tell my parents and all. Remember we’re going to the movies with the twins, and then dinner with your family, yes?”
“I’ll come with you, we’ll tell your parents together”
You shook your head no. Natasha was about to protest, when you placed your hand on her chest, letting out a shaky breath.
“I told you, Nat, they’ve been having a hard time with me lately. I’m worried they’ll scare you away”
“They won’t” you gave her a gentle look to remind her how her own mother had made her trip with her words. “Ok, I know. I’m not as good as you when speaking to people. But, whatever they say, it won’t scare me away. If I have to go through a background check or take a test or cure cancer to be with you…”
You cut her off with a kiss that turned frantic as she pulled you closer.
“Nat?”
“Yeah?” she said against your lips, eyes closed.
“I’ve thought about it… about, you know. That”
“Oh” she looked at you, and you swore her pupils dilated.
“It’s too soon, I’m aware. But… I guess I wanted you to know”
“Ok”
“Ok” you repeated, pecking her lips. “I’ll see you at the movies. Ask Yelena if she wants to come”
“You sure you don’t want a ride home?”
“Yes, darling” you nodded, squeezing her hands. You could use the time to walk and think. “I think I’ll stop by my mom’s gallery. It will be better if she’s the one I talk to first”
Natasha nodded.
“Text me when you’re there? Or if you change your mind. I’ll go pick you up”
“Thank you” you nodded, smiling as she opened the door for you.
“I like it when you call me all those things… baby, love” she confessed on your way out. “Not sure which one I like the most, though”
“Well, then I’ll have to come up with new nicknames to see which one is better. Lucky for you, I’m good with words”
—
You were hoping to prolong the walk, but in the end, it only took 20 minutes to get to your mother’s gallery. It was a Saturday, which meant Wanda was working until noon.
“Hey” you greeted your friend at the reception. Wanda looked up from her notebook and smiled at you. You placed your hand on the desk and she gaped at the bruises.
“Holy crap. You weren’t kidding”
“Trust me, he had it coming”
“Everyone’s asking me about it. Your popularity has gone up a bit” Wanda leaned forward and you frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“Jessica Jones asked me if you’re single. Darcy was similarly interested. I didn’t know if you wanted the rest of the school to know about Natasha so… I just said I had no idea”
You sighed. Considering Natasha’s concerns about hiding your relationship, it was better if everyone knew. You just had to figure out how.
“Well, I’ll fix that later. Right now I have to tell Mom”
“She’s in her office, speaking with a Japanese artist”
You nodded, walking past your friend to the back of the gallery. Knocking with your good hand, you waited for your mother to answer.
“Come on in. Oh, hi sweetheart. I thought you’d be staying home, recovering from yesterday”
“It’s just a bruise, Mom. Nothing to recover from” you took a seat in front of her, looking at the board behind her desk and the Art History books that she kept all over the place. It was an interesting contrast to Melina’s study, the image of order and chaos mirroring their own disciplines. Creative and scientist.
“Well, what are your plans for the day?”
“Uh… going to the movies with the twins and Natasha”
“The Romanoff girl? She’s so nice. Very shy, but sweet” your mother noted, still writing on her notebook.
“Yes, actually… we’ve been lab partners this semester and we’re also kinda… dating” you said the last part while your heart was beating out of control.
You gulped, as your mother put her pen down and looked at you.
“Please don’t be mad” you begged, but she smiled that comforting smile that let you know she had your back.
“Mad? You’re 16. At your age, I was leaving a trail of broken hearts”
“Mom!”
“Don’t tell your father, though. He was a late bloomer”
“Speaking of Dad… can you be the one to deliver the news to him? He’ll get grumpy and you’re the only one that can handle him”
“Don’t you worry about him, darling girl. Leave him to me. Now, will you wait for us to finish here so we can go to lunch and you tell me all about Natasha?”
“Of course” you smiled, always happy to know your mother was on your side. “I’m having dinner with her family tonight”
“Well, then she’s having dinner with us tomorrow”
“Yes, Ma’am” you nodded, thinking you’d have to prepare Natasha for meeting Captain Joseph Rogers.
—
Pietro and Wanda picked you up for the movies, the music booming across the street.
“Are you insane?” you leaned over Wanda to lower the volume on the stereo. Pietro laughed, his fingers drumming against the wheel.
“He’s been playing that stupid song since I told him you punched Rumlow”
“Eye of the Tiger is not a stupid song” he protested, finally stopping as he drove you to the movies. “She’s our Rocky Balboa!”
“Dork” Wanda mocked her brother with an affectionate smile and then turned to you. “Why are you dressed so fancy?”
You had a burgundy cashmere sweater, camel colored pants and boots.
“Well, I’m having dinner with Natasha’s family. Do you think it’s too much?”
“You look amazing” Pietro assured you and you went to hug him from your place in the back of the car.
“My favorite Maximoff”
“Hey, I called you fancy!” Wanda protested and Pietro laughed. “So, are you nervous?”
“Not really. I’ve spoken to her family, and I always see them when Natasha and I work on Chemistry homework. I’m more concerned about what Captain Rogers will have to say about Natasha”
“I’m sure it will be fine” Wanda said with a soft smile. She knew how hard these past few months had been, with the accident and the fallout between your parents and Steve.
Seeing Natasha eased some of the tension. Yelena was looking around the cinema when you arrived and after making the proper introductions, you moved over to greet your girlfriend.
“Hi” you said, kissing her softly. “Missed you”
Pietro pretended to gag behind you and you elbowed him.
“Wow, that was harsh”
“I’m Rocky, remember?” you winked, taking Natasha by the hand. Pietro insisted on buying popcorn and Yelena followed suit.
“Don’t spoil your appetite, we’re going out for dinner tonight” Natasha reminded her. Yelena pouted.
“I can eat popcorn and have dinner, Natasha”
The redhead roller her eyes, but was soon distracted by your hand on hers. Either way, Yelena got away with it. Once at the theater, Pietro squeezed his way between Nat and you, saying he’d sit in the middle holding the giant popcorn bucket.
You gave him an angry look that he ignored and you had to play dirty to sit next to Natasha.
“Hey, babe” you called for her, leaning over Pietro so he would listen to everything. “We should go shopping tomorrow. You ripped my last pair of underwear, remember?”
“Ew, no” Pietro moved, allowing you to change seats.
“Ha. Easy” you mocked, leaning against Natasha.
The movie started and you could tell Yelena and Pietro were hitting it off, making similar comments about the movie. Wanda was no better, pointing out things that the other two had missed.
“Oh, no, if they team against us we’re done, baby” you whispered against her ear. Natasha tried to reply, but moved against the back of her seat, pulling at the fabric of her pants. “What’s wrong?”
“I have a very good imagination” is all she said, trying to cover her crotch.
“Shit, sorry. I was just trying to get Pietro to move. Try to think about… something else”
“I’m trying” she said through her teeth.
“What are you going to say to Selvig tomorrow when we meet him?” you asked, hoping that would do the trick.
“We’re meeting him?” she turned to look at you and you shrugged your shoulders.
“Yeah, why not? If they don’t let us, I’ll use my press badge from the school paper and demand a Q & A session or something. Shutting down a teenager looking to learn more about the universe might be bad press”
Natasha chuckled, relaxing against your side. You could tell she was feeling better and the tension had eased. Just to be safe, you let her approach you first, and she reached for your hand, placing a small kiss at the back of it.
“I can’t wait for Virus XX!” Pietro clapped as you left the theater.
“There’s gonna be more? We’re gonna be married leaving the kids with the sitter just to watch the next one” you whistled.
“I’m sooo full” Yelena complained.
“I warned you” Natasha said. The sisters began arguing and you waited for Wanda and Pietro.
“Ok, now I’m feeling nervous” you admitted. Wanda placed her arm around your shoulder and Pietro patted your back.
“You’ll do great and they’ll love you. You care about Nat and make her happy, that’s all her family wants”
“Right” you took a breath, trying to slow your heartbeat. As you reached the exit, you waved goodbye to the twins and walked to Natasha’s car.
Your girlfriend was quiet during the car ride, and Yelena filled the silence with questions about practice and the twins. You were happy that they hit it off. Once at the restaurant, Natasha opened the car door for you while Yelena walked to the entrance. You took her hand, and followed her sister.
“Wait” Natasha asked, pulling you back.
“What’s wrong, Nat?”
“My family is a lot sometimes. They’re just loud and crazy and ask the weirdest questions…. If it’s too much…”
“Natty, it’s fine” you promised, kissing her cheek. “Come on. I’m starving”
“You look very beautiful, by the way”
“Thank you, I wanted to make a good impression” you blushed.
“They already like you. My mom couldn’t stop talking about how wonderful you are” Natasha commented, pulling the restaurant’s door for you to enter.
“Well, I’m very fond of your family too. But you’re my favorite, sweetheart”
The Italian restaurant had a nice atmosphere, with warm lights and soft music playing in the background. Melina waved at you and you walked towards their table.
“The girls are here, come, have a seat!” she said, excitedly. “I do hope you’re hungry”
“Yelena is starving” Natasha mocked and her sister glared.
“I am, actually”
“Oh, Alexei, you know Natasha’s girlfriend, right?”
You waved at Alexei and he nodded.
“Wait, how do you know? Mama just found out today” Yelena said.
“Well, they do homework together and go to the movies. Isn’t that what friends do?” Alexei looked at the two of you.
“No, Papa, they are girlfriends. As in holding hands, kissing and… bleh, other stuff. I don’t want to lose my appetite now that it’s back”
“Oooh. Our little Natasha, quite the Casanova, eh?” he teased his daughter, laughing when she blushed. “Well, I’m very happy for you two. Tell me, what do young people do for dating now?”
“Well, movies, picnics, the mall. We’re going to the Planetarium tomorrow”
“Oh, we used to go there all the time” the man said, taking his wife’s hand. “And the minute it got dark, Melina would pinch my butt”
“Ew, why?” Yelena dropped the menu, looking upset.
“Because your mom is a butt girl, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
“No, that’s not what I meant, Papa”
“Oh, I see where Natasha gets it from” you joked, unable to help yourself. Your girlfriend looked around the table, turning red.
“I am officially not hungry” Yelena grumbled, making everyone laugh.
—
You focused on some homework during Sunday morning. Since you were meeting Natasha later, you also cleaned your room and got a chance to do your hair and make up, opting for a loose dress and a light jacket.
“Dinner isn’t until 7:30, young lady” your father said as soon as you walked down the stairs. He was wearing a polo shirt and slacks, carrying a book about World War II. His idea of a relaxing Sunday was very different from yours.
“Oh, I’m going out with Natasha”
He groaned, removing his glasses.
“Yes, your mother mentioned this Romanoff girl”
“So, what do you think?”
“You’re too young”
“I’m not marrying her. Yet”
Your father glared and you had to laugh at his stern expression. So dramatic.
“This isn’t funny”
“Dad, do you know what we’re doing today? Going to a talk about Astrophysics. You really have nothing to worry about.”
“There will be rules”
“I expect nothing less from Captain Rogers”
“And curfews”
“Those are like suggestions to me, but sure, go ahead”
“Young lady”
Stepping forward, you hugged your father. Guess you can’t really take the military out of the man. But still, he had a soft spot for you and conceded, his arms around you.
“I love you, Pops. And I’m happy. So, just trust me on this one?”
“Ok, sweetheart” he nodded, sighing. “I guess I just refuse to believe you’re growing up”
You broke apart when the doorbell rang. Natasha was waiting at the door, wearing a white shirt with jeans, blue blazer and oxford shoes.
My God, glasses too.
“Hi” you greeted, staring. She looked… dashing. “Uh…”
Your dad rolled his eyes, stepping forward and introducing himself.
“Captain Joseph Rogers”
“Natasha Romanoff, sir. A pleasure to meet you” she shook his hand and you were surprised by her confident demeanor. Double fuck, she looked even hotter now.
“Dinner is at 1930” he informed your girlfriend. “No speeding, no texting while driving. You understand me?”
“Yes, sir” Natasha nodded. Your mother shouted from the kitchen, making you snap out of your trance.
“Joe, just let them go and come help me!”
“Thanks, Mom! Bye, Dad” you kissed his cheek, taking Natasha by the hand and pulling her towards the car. “You look… wow”
“Yeah? I thought it would be more formal, considering the event”
“Handsome” you blurted out, making Natasha blush. Oh, yeah. She liked it a little too much. You played with the lapel of her blazer, feeling hot everywhere. “My father is probably staring out the window but know that if he wasn’t, I’d be all over you right now”
Natasha groaned, opening the car door for you. Unable to help yourself, you gave her a quick kiss, smiling as she began the drive to the Planetarium.
During the ride, you went over some basic information about your family that would probably help her with conversation. You mentioned your mother and her time living in Paris while she got her Masters in Art History, your Dad and how he went from Army medic to surgeon at a private practice. You mentioned that Bucky lived with you because his father was working in D.C., and how your father and Colonel Barnes went way back to their days as soldiers.
By the time you reached the Planetarium, Natasha felt she understood where you came from a little bit better.
“Wow, this is amazing” you admired, looking at the scale models of probes sent to explore space. NASA had collaborated with the museum, sharing materials and information that came first hand from their work. Natasha explained things and concepts that sounded totally foreign to you, but you nodded, appreciating her enthusiasm and admiring the way her eyes lit up every time you came across some fascinating space rock.
“Please join us at the conference room for Doctor Selvig’s talk” the hostess announced, and you let Natasha guide you to your seats.
You were fully expecting the talk to be full of science terms and concepts that were above your comprehension, but Doctor Selvig was a great speaker, and the hour went by in the blink of an eye. There was a standing ovation as he delivered his last remark, and before it was over, you pushed Natasha to the side of the stage.
“Let’s say hi to him”
“Why?”
“Because he’s cool and you look like you want to cry from being in the same room as him” you whispered, intercepting him as he walked down the steps. “Doctor Selvig, Y/N Y/L/N with the Daily Shield. My girlfriend Natasha Romanoff is a great fan of your work”
“Hi” Natasha greeted him, starstruck.
“Romanoff? Any relation to Doctor Melina Romanoff?”
“She’s my mother. Do you know her?”
“We met at a conference in Berlin a few years ago. She has some interesting ideas about the composition of minerals we found near meteorite sites”
“Right. Molecular astrophysics. I’d love to study all of that” Natasha said excitedly.
“If you’re half as brilliant as your mother, I’m sure you’ll be very successful” he said, patting her shoulder. “It was a pleasure to meet you both”
“Likewise, Doctor Selvig” you said as he went to greet the people from NASA. “How cool was tha…?”
Natasha kissed you, pulling you by the waist.
“Thank you” she whispered against your lips.
“No, thank you” you smiled, enjoying her closeness. “We should get going. I just need to use the restroom first”
“Ok” she nodded, kissing you again. God, she made you weak in the knees.
You felt light as a feather as you walked to the bathroom. Everything was coming together so nicely; Natasha’s family liked you and you were sure your girlfriend would manage to turn around your father’s bad mood.
Coming back to the auditorium, you searched for Natasha. To your surprise, she was speaking with a girl that looked ready to pounce on her any minute.
“Hey” you greeted, standing next to Nat.
“Oh, hi. Ready to go?” Natasha turned to you.
“Aren’t you gonna introduce me?” you eyed the other girl, who smiled and extended her hand.
“Jane Foster”
“Y/N Y/L/N. I’m Natasha’s girlfriend”
“Oh, I had no idea you were dating anyone” the girl commented and you had to resist the urge to punch her. “Natasha and I met last summer at Science Camp. No wonder you stopped texting back, Natty”
Jane reached out, squeezing Natasha’s arm playfully. Your anger transferred to Natasha when she just stood there and did nothing.
“Yeah, well. We should go, we’re having dinner with my parents” you said, although the last thing you were was hungry.
“Nice seeing you, let me know if you’re going to the Winter Retreat. We’ll have the best time” Jane said with a wink.
“Nice seeing you too” Natasha said goodbye, while you rolled your eyes, walking to the exit as fast as you could. “Y/N, wait for me. Y/N!” Natasha insisted, chasing after you. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“She was flirting with you” you accused, looking down. Since when were you the jealous type? “And you didn’t tell her you had a girlfriend. What was that about?”
“I just… don’t really think of her as anyone worth talking to?” Natasha admitted. “We spoke for a bit during summer, but that was it. I’m not interested in her”
“It’s just that…” you sighed, kicking the floor. “She’s smart, right? She probably understands everything about this exhibit and more, and could talk to you about all these science things while I’m… just me”
“Stop right there. You’re funny, and beautiful, and smart, kind, caring… I could spend all night listing things that drive me crazy about you”
“Crazy good?” you blushed, taking her hands.
“The best type of crazy” she promised.
“Ok” you nodded, allowing her to pull you closer. “I’m calling a truce because you look too damn good right now”
“Yeah?” Natasha smiled. Unfortunately for her, you spotted her good friend Jane Foster, still looking at you as if she wanted to continue the conversation.
Whatever Natasha was about to say next died on her mouth, because you crashed your lips against hers in a searing kiss, nibbling at her bottom lip until she groaned, allowing you to explore her mouth with your tongue. Her hands slid to your lower back and you scratched the base of her neck, fingers threading through fiery hair.
“Are you hungry now?” you whispered against her mouth, satisfied at the way she chased your lips, whining when you stepped back.
“Huh?”
“Dinner. We can’t be late” placing a hand on her cheek, you smiled. Natasha nodded, following you to the car, her little friend long forgotten.
Yeah, that’s more like it.
—
During the drive back, you were still thinking about that Foster girl, and Natasha could read you like an open book, holding your hand as she went back to your home.
As usual, she opened the car door for you and allowed you to lead her to your house.
“Want a tour of the place?” you offered, taking her blazer so she’d be more comfortable. You appreciated the way the shirt clung to the muscles in her arms.
“Sure” she nodded, following you and looking at the framed pictures on the walls. Most of them were of Steve and you throughout the years.
“Living room, that connects to the entertainment room” you pointed to a door where you’d usually have movie nights with the twins. “The pool table is close to the back shed, dining room, kitchen over there… Rooms are upstairs”
“I guess I never noticed how big your house is”
“My mom has a studio and my dad has his reading room as well. Come on” you walked to the kitchen and got everything to set the table.
“Hi, girls. Did you have fun?” your mom greeted and you nodded.
“Can I help with anything?” Natasha offered and your mother nodded.
“You can take the potatoes to the table, darling, thank you”
She admired the way you set different silverware, including glasses and a bottle of wine that you knew your father liked. It all looked extremely fancy.
“We’re foodies here” you explained. “Hope you like greek lamb”
“I’ve never had any”
“Oh, I do hope you love it” your mom said, carrying the tray with the food, fresh off the oven.
“Food’s ready, chop chop!” you shouted, assuming Steve and Bucky were playing pool.
“Smells delicious” your father complimented, setting his book down.
“How are you liking Ryan’s book so far?” Natasha asked, sitting next to you. Your father seemed pleasantly surprised that she was interested.
“It’s good. About time I read The Longest Day. Though I still have to finish Churchill’s volumes. I’m stuck on the second half of the third”
“It took me two summers to read it all” Natasha agreed as if it wasn’t a big deal.
“All four volumes?” he said, clearly impressed.
You should have never doubted Natasha’s ability to win over a nerd.
“What did we miss?” Steve walked in, nodding towards Natasha. “Hey, what’s up, Nat”
“Romanoff” Bucky said and you glared. He sure as hell could be nicer, but alas. Boys will be boys.
“Just discussing some interesting books about World War II” your father replied and they both groaned. “Boys, it is an integral part of our history as a nation!”
“Pass the potatoes” Steve said, but your mother stopped him.
“Guests first”
You poked your tongue out in a mocking gesture, passing the food to Natasha.
After everyone had their plates ready, you started eating, talking a bit about your day and stuff you’d done during the week. Sundays were the only days you all had dinner together. Sometimes, your father was in the hospital for 24 hour shifts and your mom would stay late working at the gallery.
“How was the conference?” your mother asked.
“It was fascinating. Did you know asteroids can have rings? And moons? There’s a whole world out there and we know so little” you said, inspired by Selvig’s speech. “Lucky for them, Natasha will put her brilliant mind to work on discovering new things pretty soon”
“So, I’m guessing you’re going for MIT, Natasha?” your father asked.
“Yes, sir. That would be my first choice. Followed by Harvard and then CalTech”
“All very fine schools, right, Y/N?”
“NYU is also a very fine school” you defended, taking a sip of the wine you were allowed to have with Sunday dinner. Very European of your mother.
“Too many distractions in such a big city” your father complained; sensing the potential of a fight, your mother changed the subject.
“Bucky, still thinking about UCLA?”
“Yeah, some sun would be good for me”
“Next year you’ll both be gone, I can’t wrap my head around it” your mother pondered.
“Maybe we can finally get a dog” you proposed. “He’ll behave a lot better, that’s for sure”
“Very funny” Steve said.
“Not a joke, bro”
“Natasha, what about your parents?” your father said.
“What about them?” you jumped, eyeing him suspiciously.
“I just want to know what they do”
“Well, my father is a retired football player. Alexei Romanoff. He was with the Patriots for six seasons. And now he’s a coach at school. It’s more of a hobby than anything. My mother is the lead researcher on a project to develop a treatment for Alzheimer’s”
“Wait, Romanoff as in Doctor Melina?”
“How many Romanoffs do you gather live in Westview” your brother joked.
It was the second time someone mentioned Natasha’s mother and you were honestly impressed.
“I’ve heard about your mother’s work, it is very interesting. Perhaps your family can join us for dinner one day” he proposed and you locked eyes with your brother. That was as good as it was going to get with your father.
“That would be lovely, thank you”
The conversation kept flowing and by the time dessert was served, you were full, sleepy and happy to see Natasha relaxed and smiling next to you. You reached for her hand, squeezing it.
“Y/N and Natasha set the table so you’re on cleaning duties, boys” your mother instructed.
You took Natasha to the backyard, walking along the edge of the pool.
“What’s going in that mind of yours?” you asked, seeing her eyes getting lost in the water.
“We’re also going to college in a few years”
“Mhm” you nodded, taking her hands. “And?”
“What will happen to us? I mean, I know it’s too soon, but I hate the idea of not seeing you every day and being away… you’ll probably make so many new friends…”
“Nat…” you said softly, until she looked at you. “I’ve waited for so long to be with you, do you really think being in different cities is gonna stop me?”
“Really?”
You laughed, taking a deep breath.
“If I were a poet, I’d write a haiku; you should know I really like you” you recited.
“How did you… You wrote it” she gaped.
“It wasn’t my best work, but to be fair, we were 12”
A note that had been left at her locker, on Valentine’s Day.
Natasha thought it was a prank or a mistake.
“That’s how long I’ve liked you” you nodded, your arms around her waist. “So, we will cross that bridge when we get there, in approximately two years. Ok, love?”
“Sorry, I know I get crazy…”
“Yes, but that’s part of your charm” you smiled, leaning forward to kiss her. As you broke apart you yawned, laughing. “Shit, I’m sorry, baby. It’s the wine”
“It’s ok” she said, kissing your cheek. “I should go, it’s getting late”
“Come on, I’ll walk you out” you said, leading her to the kitchen to say goodbye to your mother. Natasha thanked her and was forced to take back a giant piece of cake. Yelena was going to be extremely happy, that was for sure.
As you opened the door, your father called for Natasha, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“It was lovely to meet you, young lady. You are always welcomed in our home”
“Thank you, Captain. And thank you for a lovely evening”
Holy shit, holy shit, you kept saying in your head. And there was Natasha, looking super chill.
“What?” she asked, as you covered your mouth to keep yourself from screaming in pure joy.
“Uhm, that thing he said? He might as well ask you to call him Dad. He likes you, Nat”
“Really?”
“Really” you nodded. “Can’t blame him one bit. Ok, drive safely, text me when you’re home”
“Will do” she kissed you. And God, you wanted it to last forever.
You were so in love with her. The realization hit you hard and fast, but you decided to leave it for another time, when you weren’t so dazed by her presence and the little bit of red wine you had with your dinner.
Staring out the window, you watched her drive away.
“That was nice” your mother said and you nodded. The sound of plates crashing against the floor made her sigh tiredly. “Oh, boys”
By the time you went up to your room, it was almost 10 PM. While you took off your dress, your phone pinged with a text from Natasha, letting you know she was home, and that Yelena had stolen the cake from her hands as soon as she opened the front door.
You laughed, sending heart emojis, as well as a picture of Natasha during the exhibit. She was smiling, looking up, the soft glow of the lights giving her a mysterious aura.
Y/N: Stunning view
Leaving the phone on your dressing room, you went to the bathroom to wash your teeth, and brush your hair. As you settled in bed, you got a new text.
Natasha:
each kiss is perfect
your smile is like summer breeze
our world is magic
Counting the syllables, you laughed. Of course Natasha wrote a haiku for you.
Y/N: Show off.
Y/N: I love it.
Boundless Devotion - Part I
Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: MedievalAU. Natasha is the eldest princess of the Romanov Kingdom. As the time of her coronation approaches, she is suddenly forced to make a decision – either find herself a partner or her parents will choose one for her.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15
Warnings: slight angst
Words: 1991
In the training yard of the castle, the sound of clashing steel fills the air as the Captain of the Royal Guard, Steve Rogers, faces off against the eldest princess and heir to the Romanov kingdom, Princess Natasha.
The sun shines on the area as the two circle each other, carefully watching the other’s movement.
Surrounding them, some of the castle’s staff and the other knights pause in their activities to watch the match with anticipation.
The captain lunges forward first, his polished sword gleaming in the sunlight. With a swift flourish, he aims a diagonal strike at her midsection.
In response, Natasha sidesteps the attack gracefully, her own blade moving smoothly to parry his sword.
The crowd watches with rapt attention as Steve continues to press forward with additional powerful swings, but the princess evades every strike, stepping as if she were dancing.
On a particularly powerful thrust, Natasha ducks under his attack, extending her arm to him. Then with a twist of her wrist, she expertly hooks her blade around his sword’s hilt and applies pressure. Using his momentum against him, she jerks the sword out of his grasp, sending it spinning through the air.
The blade lands with a clatter several feet away.
Then in a swift and uninterrupted motion, she hooks her leg around the back of his knee, sweeping it out from under him.
Her sword points at the captain’s chest in victory, ending the battle, as cheers and applause erupt around them.
With a quick twirl, Natasha holds her sword behind her before extending her hand to the captain. Steve gives her a grateful smile and takes her hand as she pulls him to his feet.
He dusts himself off before giving her an exasperated look.
“Did you really need to show me up in front of my knights?”
Natasha gives him a smirk, replying.
“Well, I have to keep you humble.”
Captain Steve Rogers was the one who trained her and her younger sister, Yelena, ever since they were little. Years later, they have both mastered their sword and martial arts skills, becoming one of the best in the kingdom.
Glancing around, Steve gives a stern look to the surrounding knights who rush to resume their training. When he turns back to Natasha, he nods in the distance.
“Looks like you have some guests, your Highness.”
Natasha brushes her hair out of her face, turning to look at the directed area.
At the edge of the training yard, she finds you standing alongside another noble, Lady Kate Bishop.
Kate waves excitedly at her in greeting, and the golden retriever next to her also jumps in place, matching his owner’s energy.
Visits to the castle from the two of you were not surprising. With both of your noble families having prominent positions in the kingdom, it was natural that the four of you, including Yelena, would end up forming close bonds, having known each other since you were children.
Kate is Yelena’s closest friend while you are hers.
Well, you two used to be close.
However, ever since the incident last year on the night of her birthday, you’ve kept your distance from her, only seeing or talking to her when necessary.
Even now, Natasha can see that the only thing holding you in place is Kate’s interlocked arm in yours.
Your body is turned towards the castle, and your eyes are looking everywhere else but her.
Natasha sheaths her sword at her side and walks over to the two of you. She is knocked back slightly when the golden retriever leaps at her in greeting, his tail wagging enthusiastically.
Natasha chuckles and pets his head, “Well, hello to you too, Lucky.”
Kate’s excited energy follows, moving closer, which in turn pulls you forward also.
“That was amazing! You have to teach me that move!”
Natasha releases the dog with a final scratch before letting him return to his owner’s side.
“I’m sure Yelena can show it to you the next time you two practice,” she tells her.
Kate nods to herself, reminding herself to ask the younger princess about it later.
Natasha turns to you, giving you a hopeful smile.
“How have you been, Y/n?”
You give her a slight bow in acknowledgment, your eyes still averted from hers.
“I’m fine. Thank you for asking, princess.”
Natasha's smile drops slightly at your neutral response.
So far, her interactions with you have been like this, formal and distant, unlike the usual banter and casual teasing that typically characterizes your friendship.
Before she can ask anything further, Natasha notices a slight movement in your arm as you discreetly tug Kate, trying to get her attention.
Kate turns to look at you in question and sees your pointed stare as you tilt your head subtly towards the castle.
Her mouth opens in realization, and she turns to Natasha apologetically.
“Oh, that’s right! I’m sorry, Natasha, but we have to get going. Y/n has a meeting with the queen.”
You are practically dragging her away as she finishes talking, offering Natasha a tight smile and a small farewell bow.
Natasha’s shoulders slump in despair as she watches you rush away.
It was disheartening to see her closest friend become almost like a stranger, but she can only blame that incident which caused this rift between the two of you.
Sighing sadly, she pulls out her sword again and heads back toward the center of the area to resume her training.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Natasha is practically sprinting to the dining hall with how fast she is walking through the hallways.
Guards and maids dodge out of her path as she rushes by, already understanding the need to hurry, judging by the time.
As she approaches the entrance of the dining room, the guards open the doors for her to enter. Stepping into the room, she is immediately greeted by the queen’s reprimanding voice.
“You’re late, Natasha.”
Her mother, Queen Melina, sits at the head of the table while her father, King Alexei, occupies the opposite side. Yelena is positioned on the table's side facing her, subtly shaking her head in warning as her eyes gesture meaningfully toward their mother.
Natasha thinks back to how she spent the remainder of the day after her encounter with you, destroying the training dummies around the training yard in frustration.
By the time she realized how long she’d been training, the sun had already set.
Deciding there was no point in making up an excuse, she settled with the truth.
“I lost track of the time,” she replies.
In response, Queen Melina nods at the chair closest to her, indicating for her to have a seat.
When Natasha sits down, a member of the kitchen staff places a plate of dinner in front of her before stepping away.
In an attempt to break the tension, King Alexei claps his hands together and exclaims joyfully.
“Great, the family’s all here! Let’s eat!”
The members of the royal family start eating their meals, except for Queen Melina, who instead turns her attention to Natasha.
“I heard that you were at the courtyard today, training with the royal guards.”
“I was,” Natasha responds casually.
“What about your studies?”
“I already finished them all.”
“If you had told me earlier, I could have given you the next part of your lessons,” Melina admonishes before continuing her lecture. “You are about to be crowned soon as the next ruler of the kingdom. There’s always more that you can learn.”
A small snicker from Yelena catches Melina’s attention, causing her to direct her lecturing tone to the younger princess.
“And you should not laugh at your sister. At least she finished her studies. I heard that you didn't even show up for your lessons. Where exactly were you all day?”
Yelena shrugs nonchalantly before looking down next to her chair at the Akita dog eating from her bowl.
“Fanny wanted to go out for a run, so we spent the day out in the fields.”
At the sound of her name, the dog looks up attentively.
In response, Yelena gives her a gentle scratch on the head, before turning the dog's face toward her mother.
“You can’t say no to this face,” Yelena coos.
Melina gives the two of them a deadpan look before shifting her gaze forward to her husband.
Alexei chokes on his food in slight panic when he realizes her attention has now turned to him.
“Our daughters have inherited your adventurous spirit,” Melina remarks accusingly.
“That’s my girls!” Alexei exclaims proudly before he catches the sharp glare from Melina. “I-I mean, girls, your studies and lessons come first. You know how important they are to your mother.”
Melina sighs defeatedly, shaking her head at his poor attempt at scolding. She returns her attention back to her eldest daughter.
“I have scheduled several meetings for you this week, Natasha. They’re with the daughters from some of the noble houses, so be sure not to miss any.”
Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, Natasha brings her cup up for a drink as she asks for more information.
“What are the meetings for?”
“To find you a partner, of course.”
Natasha spits out her drink in surprise, coughing as she reaches for a napkin.
“Mind your manners, Natasha,” Melina chastises.
Ignoring her mother's reprimand, Natasha exclaims in outrage.
“Why am I looking for a partner?!”
Unfazed by her tone, Melina answers her question with a serious expression, “Taking on the responsibilities of the kingdom is a lot for one person. You should have someone at your side.”
Natasha makes a sound of disagreement and gestures at her in accusation.
“A couple of months ago, you told me that I was fully prepared to take over the throne,” she reminds her mother. “You’ve never mentioned that I needed to have someone back then!”
“Well, that was before I realized that you have obviously made no attempt at looking for a potential partner. So I took the liberty to invite these lovely candidates to help you get started, and you will meet with them.”
Natasha huffs and crosses her arms, shaking her head in disbelief.
Seeing her reluctance, Melina continues, declaring, “If you cannot find someone by the time of your coronation, your father and I will choose one for you.”
Natasha’s eyes widen, and her mouth hangs open in shock at her words.
This was not fair.
Throughout her life, her parents have never shown interest in her romantic relationships before. Suddenly, they decide that she is not capable of taking over the kingdom unless she has someone by her side.
As Natasha tries to come up with a way so that she can get herself out of this situation, an idea comes to her mind.
“What if I’m already in a relationship with someone?” Natasha asks.
Three sets of eyes stare at her with varying looks of disbelief on their faces.
Yelena speaks up first, giving her a skeptical look.
“Nat, you’re popular throughout the kingdom, but the truth is, you spend more time with your sword than you do holding a lady's hand.”
Natasha subtly kicks her sister under the table in response to her comment, causing her to curse in pain.
“Watch your language, Yelena,” Melina reprimands her before resting her clasped hands on the table and focusing on Natasha. “But she’s not wrong. I have not seen you romantically close with anyone,” she points out accusingly.
Without hesitation, Natasha smoothly lies, “We’ve been meeting in secret.”
Melina examines her critically, and she matches her mother's intense stare.
When Natasha’s gaze doesn’t waver, Melina relaxes her posture and relents.
“Alright then, if you could tell me who you are in a relationship with, I will cancel all of the meetings.”
The name rolls off naturally on her tongue before Natasha can even stop herself.
“Lady Y/n Dreykov. I’m in a relationship with Y/n.”
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15
Series Masterlist : Boundless Devotion
This is the magic lucky word count. Reblog for creativity juice. It might even work, who knows.
A Second Listen
Natasha Romanoff x SuperShy!Reader
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: Day 4: I've merged a lovely request from a lovely friend with the @taylorswiftmicrofic prompt for the 4th of January, which is 'January'.
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Natasha didn’t look at you twice when you were introduced to the team.
It was one of the most embarrassing moments of your life but it was always going to be. Standing in front of a group of intimidating strangers was your worst nightmare.
You didn’t even have to speak. Agent Hill walked you into a boardroom and all you had to do was stand there and wave.
Instead, you could barely glance up from the carpeted floor.
They’d been told, you could tell. They’d been told that you were very shy. Everyone looking back at you gave you a polite smile.
No one seemed to expect anything more from you.
You wished that they could expect more. That you could be someone more confident. You moved to sit in the nearest seat.
It was January, the start of a new year. It was the perfect time to become someone new. You didn’t have much hope.
.
‘What’s that noise?’ Natasha asked suddenly. You flushed, trying to be subtle as you turned down the volume on your headphones.
Steve’s head turned obediently as he surveyed the room.
‘I don’t hear anything.’
You pretended to focus on the laptop in front of you, wishing you could sink into the sofa cushions.
‘Y/N?’ Steve called, and your heart sank. ‘Did you hear anything?’
You opened your mouth feeling put on the spot. Nerves bubbled up horribly.
Natasha interrupted.
‘Don’t worry Steve, I must have imagined it.’
Her gaze met yours knowingly and you could tell that she had guessed that you were the source of the sound. She gave you an encouraging smile before returning to her plate of pasta.
You still felt mortified. Your cheeks burned as you turned the song off all together.
.
Natasha could hear a thumping noise. Erratic and varying in volume. It definitely wasn’t music. It didn’t sound dangerous, just strange.
She followed the noise instinctively, moving along the hallways of the Compound as the strange rhythm continued.
She stopped in front of your room. You’d left the door wide open. You had your headphones on. Chunky purple ones that made Natasha smile every time she saw you wearing them. Now she was closer, she could hear a small tinny noise that must be the music playing inside them.
That wasn’t the sound that had brought her here.
Natasha watched as you bounced mindlessly from your bed to the ground, twirling and skipping from one end of the room to the other. Your arms moved dramatically in the near silence. Your eyes were scrunched closed and you were mouthing along to your own silent disco.
Natasha leaned against the doorway with her arms folded. Her head tilted as she watched.
You turned at last towards the doorway, opening your eyes as you mimed the final part of the song. You froze in place. Your eyes widened with panic. You whipped the headphones from your ears, letting them hang around your neck.
Natasha could hear the music louder now but she still couldn’t figure out the song.
When you met her eyes, clearly mortified. Natasha gave you a gentle smirk.
‘I loved the performance.’ She promised you.
You couldn’t think what to say. You never could, not in front of her.
You covered your face briefly instead, indicating your embarrassment.
Natasha took a few steps forward, she touched your shoulder and you felt yourself go still with anticipation.
‘If I leave now.’ She assured, eyes still sparkling with a warmth meant for you. ‘Will you promise not to stop?’
You nodded obediently, wondering if she could hear the sound of your favourite song ending and starting again from around your neck.
Natasha looked pleased. She gave you a thumbs up just before she left the room. Embarrassingly, mortifyingly, you copied the action. Her small laugh matched her soft smile.
You waited ten seconds and silently hurried to shut the door.
Then, you slipped your headphones back on, pressed your forehead against the wood and smiled harder than ever before.
.
The team was celebrating. It was only surviving the scariest missions that earned a group dinner out at a restaurant. Natasha had explained the tradition to you on the quinjet flight back to the Compound.
This time it had been Natasha’s choice. She’d picked a Pho place that the others were excited by. You followed along with your usual quietness, happy just to be included.
The song was playing. Your song was playing.
You tried not to smile automatically, instead you kept your head down as you focused on your noodles.
‘Oh god. Is this even music?’ Natasha commented dryly. The group laughed.
You tried not to flinch as a strange hope inside you started to deflate.
‘Who knows? I never understand modern music.’ Steve added half jokingly.
You watched Tony roll his eyes.
‘This isn’t modern music’ He corrected. ‘It’s just modern noise.’
Embarrassingly, you felt your eyes well up with tears. You’d been trying to be braver, more yourself around the others. You felt stupid. You were suddenly grateful that you’d always played your music with headphones.
You kept your head down, letting the conversation around you move onto other things.
When you finally had the courage to glance up, Natasha was already looking at you. Her eyes were full of silent apology.
You dropped your stare back down to your empty plate, filled with miserable embarrassment.
.
Natasha was moving back and forth in the kitchen. This was not her usual style. Her hand rubbed her neck absentmindedly. This wasn’t her style either.
You paused unsurely and worried if she was okay.
Typically, you only came into the common areas when you had your headphones on. It had been an easy way to reassure yourself. No one expected you to talk with them on. But, after the meal yesterday, you couldn’t find the courage to put them on. It would be too embarrassing if someone heard the music you liked to play.
You took a step into the kitchen, hoping to get away with a polite smile and your container from the fridge with leftovers in it.
Natasha turned immediately as you approached. You froze in place automatically. She smiled brightly at you, nervous but excited. You didn’t know what to do. You waited for her to speak, to give you some kind of direction.
Natasha’s head tilted and for a moment you could see her thinking. Carefully, with an assessing stare, she tucked her hair behind her ears.
The wireless earpods revealed themselves.
For a moment, you were too distracted by the glittering ear piercings that surrounded them. Natasha noticed your attention and her hand absentmindedly rubbed her neck again. You realised that the gesture was her way of being shy.
You gave her a small smile and Natasha beamed.
She tilted her head again as she took out one of the earpods. Slowly, she offered it to you on her palm. You picked it up, understanding the silent cue. You held it to your ear and heard your favourite song playing loudly. Your small laugh was automatic. Natasha grinned victoriously. You offered her the earpod back and she took it.
Then, Natasha nodded her head towards the door. You understood her cue again, following her as she led you out of the main Compound building and into the garage. You watched silently as she unlocked a car that must be hers.
You observed the vehicle interestedly. It was jet black, sleek and expensive looking. It was intimidating. You glanced over at Natasha with her shining ear piercings and leather jacket. She gave you a soft smile and your heart raced instinctively. She opened her car door and nodded for you to do the same with yours.
You opened the opposite door and slid obediently into the leather seat. Your fingers tangled and untangled themselves in your lap as nervousness overwhelmed you slightly. After a moment, you looked over to Natasha.
She cleared her throat.
‘I thought maybe we could go somewhere and get lunch?’ She offered simply.
You bit your lip. Indecision warred on your face and Natasha looked suddenly deflated. You hesitated before you spoke at last.
‘You don’t have to be nice to me. Just because of yesterday. I’m not upset with you.’
You tried to smile reassuringly.
Natasha’s mouth twitched as she hid her own secret smile. It was the first time you'd talked to her directly. She hadn’t realised it at first. You’d been so quiet, trying to fade into the background of every moment.
She hadn’t realised and then she hadn’t been able to see anything else.
Even your smallest smiles made your eyes sparkle.
‘I really do want to go to lunch with you.’ Natasha answered you simply. ‘If that’s what you want.’
She watched your fingers untangle themselves decisively.
‘I do.’ You smiled nervously. Your eyes sparkled.
.
As she drove out of the garage, Natasha half-turned to face you again.
‘I did end up really liking that song, you know.’ She said carefully. ‘After yesterday, it got stuck in my head. It’s been playing on a loop in there ever since.’ You watched her tap her forehead.
She glanced back to you unsurely. You knew she was still hesitant because of yesterday. You braced yourself automatically.
‘It’s really okay.’ You tried to reassure her again, not quite believing her words.
Natasha’s brow furrowed quickly and she looked like she was thinking hard. She chewed her lower lip and then she looked down to the music system installed in her car.
Her fingers moved suddenly as she pressed various features on the touchscreen. Your stomach squeezed uncomfortably. You didn’t want her to play it now, just to try and prove a point.
A different song began to play.
Your mouth twisted in automatic distaste at the sound.
Natasha laughed.
‘This is my favourite song.’ She told you, clearly pleased by your expression. You covered your face embarrassedly for a moment and Natasha laughed again.
‘You have to give it a chance.’ She said, her voice deepening slightly as her tone walked the line of playful and serious. ‘Some things get better the more time you give them.’
Your breath hitched and you nodded. Natasha turned to focus properly on the road ahead. You watched her mouth along to the lyrics.
She was right. By the time the song was nearly over, you were starting to like it.
You watched Natasha’s fingers move back to the touch screen, ready to switch the music to something else.
Without thinking, you touched her hand with your own.
Natasha froze at your touch.
‘Can I hear it again?’ You asked shyly.
Natasha beamed.
.
.
Requests are still very welcome for future January fics. More info in the pinned post if you're interested in requesting. <3
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broken rosary, cinnabar dreams
+18, mdni; bc @vifilms inspired me so hard with her insane drabble i had to restart my laptop and bang this out before the words left me for good; so this one's for u raybaebae !
tw: heavy religious imagery, body worship, blasphemy (lol), extremely mixed metaphors, just stream of consciousness at this point
you think that perhaps god made women because he'd looked at men and said i think can do better. but you're convinced that when god made vi, he'd turned to the nearest angel and said goddamn, i'm good.
and you would worship her like she was made to be worshiped, kiss every inch of her skin till her breaths start to sound like monastic prayers, mark her skin with your piety, offer up bloodied palms and bruising knees, press your forehead to the muscle of her thigh and anoint yourself in her essence. you would worship her, yes. and her fingers in your hair would be as the commandments were, an irrefutable intimacy, from your lips to god's ears (or simply the apex of her thighs -- it's been a long time since you've been able to tell the difference).
because you know she's your saving grace, every bead on your broken rosary, cracked ivory and cinnabar dreams, her lips like sin and her body like so much wretched salvation. you would damn yourself for her. for her.
you'd shake her open, swallow down every drop of her violent grace, hollow her out till she's full of nothing but light, fashion her pleasure into angel wings so beautiful the seraphs might start to call her annabel lee. you'd kiss her into a wild messiah, mortal flesh and divine fecundity, curl your apostle fingers until neither of you can wonder if heaven is indeed just a place on earth.
it's here, in the negative space between your body and hers.
and it has always been here, hasn't it? because there's always love and your bodies have been the making. because poetry is only ever the answer to the question of do you love me?
and truth will always rhyme with your voice saying -- please, please, please.
so she answers your prayers with her mouth wide open, her athena-eyes dark as a moon-rocked sea. from here, pressed against her chest, you swear you can almost hear the angel-wing thrum in her thundering heartbeat.
"o-oh -- oh god -- kiss me --"
you anchor yourself to her with a groan, heed her words with hungering lips and a reverent tongue. you kiss her like it's the only thing you'd been put on this earth to do right, as if you'd been given these lips solely for the sake of this. of kissing her.
of kissing her bloody, and kissing her sweet.
of tracing her into more solid lines even as she shakes close to shattering.
"baby, baby -- i'm close -- fuck -- please --"
you nod, tugging back just a fraction to watch the pleasure break across her face, savoring in the splendor, in the gut-deep reckoning.
"yeah? c'mon violet -- show me -- wanna see you cum for me --"
"a-ah -- hah -- fuck -- oh fuck --"
for this, you think, you'd break the world into war. for this, you remedy, you'd paint the world into peace.
you pluck the desire from her like an unraveling thread, unspooling it in gossamer strands, picking it apart till she's undone beneath you -- in all her gold-limned glory, her bright eyes darkened by love or lust, the ridges of her body a study in perseverance -- you remind yourself to take it slow.
because sure, belief is a steady thing, but faith -- faith is running a marathon with no knowledge of the finish line, only the promise of the wind as she whispers in your ear -- just a bit more, just a bit more...
you slow your pace as vi shudders around you; reality shakes loose around your shoulders and truth becomes nothing more than a bedtime story the hungry tell their children on the nights when there's not enough food to go around the table. you gorge yourself on the sight of her, on the leavening skin of her abdomen, rising and falling with her staccato breaths, on the warmth threading from between her legs, slick and sticky as you pull your fingers away.
"holy... shit --" vi breathes, looking down at you with a half-drawn breath. the room around you shimmers in refracted bits of lucidity and memory. you smile, slipping into the space next to her, curling your body into hers, leaning into her as a supplicant to her majesty.
she smiles, reaching out to caress your cheek. you press into her touch, sating yourself on the gentility.
"god... what did i do to deserve you," she asks, her voice corded and breathy.
you blink open your eyes, uncertain of her meaning.
her, deserving of you?
you shuffle forward till your nose is pressed into the junction of her neck, till she is every breath your lungs have the dignity to breathe.
"you're everything, vi," you say, and you hope she understands. you hope she can hear the utter reverence in your voice, the debasement to which you would allow yourself to sink just to convince her of this one, singular truth.
everything.
vi laughs, reaching out to pull you close.
she grazes a kiss by your temple and you try not to whimper.
"and you're everything to me, pretty girl," she says, murmuring the words into the crease between your brows. you tug back to catch the flash of something that looks almost like that self-same adoration in the flutter of her lashes, the darkness of her eyes.
you do not think she understands; you pray she does anyways.
"c'mon doll -- time for bed," she says, chuckling as she hauls you into her chest, littering your skin with a flurry of kisses. your bodies settle against each other as the ocean might a stretch of familiar shore. as raindrops might recognize the specific mirror of the sea -- your souls tied, your breaths sighing in tandem -- ah yes, this is where i'm meant to be.
you let sleep caress you with her silken fingers, let her paint your dreams in shades of violet and blue, let moonlit-silver and midnight-sin sink into your skin. you fall asleep in violet's arms.
you do not hear her say i love you, in a voice singed with holy flames. but you do feel her kiss you. and you think, even in your dreams, that her lips have always tasted like smoke.
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