PAST TENSE
summary: when vi is let out of jail, everything is up in the air as she moves through zaun and life without purpose, until you. but is she built for a life of no fighting? (alternate au). word count: 6.8k
warnings: minors dni (18+), canon typical violence but not really, smut, soft!top!vi (writing her so gentle), alcohol no no's
It was all different: the people, the buildings, the food, the drink, even the floor she was walking on. Seven years in prison. Seven years, and she hadn't gotten a single whiff of how Zaun had changed whilst she was behind bars. Not a single soul had bothered to tell her that the undercity was now a safe place, that people didn't starve anymore, that her family had been keeping well without her.
Her jaw clenched painfully, hands shoved into the pockets of her mismatched clothes that no longer fit in with everyone else as she grieved how much she'd missed, and realised that the home she was longing for no longer felt like home. It was too clean, she could breathe clearly, the people around her looked... happy. All Vi could do was huff whilst walking in the opposite direction of The Last Drop in what was basically a tantrum.
Away from the confusing reunion she'd had with her family. Ecstatic to see them, but not knowing who they were anymore. No longer was her family rough around the edges, no, Vander now had a thriving business that didn't have criminal activity at the heart and centre, Powder was well educated, terrifyingly smart and working with Piltovan scientific communities, and her two idiot brothers -who frankly, she thought would never amount to anything in the streets of Zaun without her leadership- had honest jobs, earning good money. Her family didn't make sense to her anymore, and she didn't make sense to them.
To top it all off, the plan was to move back into the basement under the last drop, in the room she grew up in, this time all alone, jobless, friendless. So much for being the most successful sibling, now she was nothing in this new world. A fighter with nothing to fight.
This whole safe world was because of her too, she had come to learn during the catchup at the bar that was serving juice to people too often for her liking. Why was no one drinking the hard stuff anymore? Probably because everyone's happy, her mind grumbled to her as she kicked a stone through an alley, headed to the docks, the old factory now up and running, providing thriving business and jobs for the everyday worker.
Vi huffed for the nth time, plonking herself down on the edge of the dock, annoyed that her old quiet space now had raging noises of machinery in the background. All of this because she'd nearly gotten killed by some glowing blue gem thing across the bridge. The last job she did with her siblings, and one that was an epic fail. They'd nearly made it out until the explosion.
After the enforcers checked her over after being nearly decimated, she'd been thrown into Stillwater Hold of all places, for breaking and entering and other such accusations. The younger ones got off with a warning, the eyes of the law stating that they didn't know what they were doing, that they were just following the words of the pink haired kid who had been spotted sleuthing through people's things in Piltover time and time again. A repeat offender.
The light waves of the water brushed against her shoes as she considered that day. How that explosion and being caught had cost her seven years of her life, time with her family. Seven years of going insane in that tiny cell. But it had also made topside and bottom work together when they nearly lost a child from each side during the accident -which turned out to be an unauthorised scientific experiment of some kind.
When Councillor Kiramman found out that the explosion had wounded her daughter and a zaunite child, nearly killing them, she was on a warpath to finally create safety for all of the citizens under the council's care, which was now why Vi was breathing in fresh air instead of smog.
She just didn't know what to do. Now that Zaun was this new-fangled modern world, how was she, someone with a criminal record, going to earn money. It wouldn't have been a problem back in the day, but apparently reputations within the workplace were a thing now. She was gonna be stuck working at the bar for the rest of her life, she just knew it. It wouldn't be a bad arrangement if it wasn't her dad handing out the job, she wanted to earn a place somewhere, just like her brothers and sisters had. It was unlikely, though. For a few years at least.
For now, all she could do was mope around and relearn how to live outside of a cell. The world was too big, too overwhelming. "It'll take time", Vander tried to reassure her after a week of her release when she had come home completely shitfaced when it all got too much. When the bright colours everyone seemed to wear paired with the bright sky and bustling noises of active vendors and buyers on the street had made her want to lose all of her senses.
She'd completely lost her mind when she saw a group of Piltovan and Zaunite enforcers seeming all jolly and high-fiving adoring kids in the street. People looked up to these monsters now? Zaunites had joined their ranks and made a city-wide police force? She required some whiskey to get her head around that. A lot of it.
Hopped up on that much whiskey is when she spotted you for the first time, pouring a clean glass of water from the tap behind Vander, a pitying expression on your face. 'Well fuck you', she thought to herself, calling you every Piltie slur under the sun as you handed the water to Vander who in turn handed it to the seething woman slumped at his bar. That was until she reminded herself that she couldn't tell the difference between Zaunites and Pilties anymore because apparently no one gave a shit about their multi-hundred year long feud and abominable oppressive behaviours from topside.
"You need to get ahold of yourself, kid", the brawny man who had been everything to her said, wiping some glasses down with a cloth whilst you made yourself busy around the bar, preparing it for closing. Her eyes shakily followed your movements as she pushed the water back towards Vander who hastily shoved it back towards her. "Drink, and stop staring at my hires".
Vi scoffed but took a tentative sip, her hands moving to push it back again after just to prove a point. "I'm not staring at your hires. I'm staring at that hire".
Vander sighed, his cloth flopping down as he leaned his gigantic arms on the bar. "Look, I know everything's different, and it must feel like you've woken up in some kind of dream-".
A scoff, "Well, obviously-".
His expression went sharper, interrupting before any more snark could come out of her mouth, "We all love you, and have been fighting to get you out for years, but this isn't a place you can just rock up to sloshed out of your mind anymore", Vander's face shifted to try and be more understanding. Vi may not be his technically, but he'd known her since she was a baby, taught her her first punch, raised her in the latter years. This was his baby sitting in front of him, and she was hurting.
"It feels like I can't do anything right here anymore", her voice slurred and she slumped down a little, side eyeing you as you said an awkward goodbye to Vander to clock out. The big man gave you a bit of an exasperated smile goodbye, still trying to be friendly to his staff. You were always a sweetheart after all.
Vi seemed to think otherwise, a vendetta against you after the heinous act of offering her water. "What's her problem?", she grumbled as Vander picked her up like she weighed nothing, treading down the wooden steps to the basement and gently laying her down in a bed that she used to be much smaller in. The scrape of a wooden chair broke the silence, Vander sitting next to her, making sure she didn't die from choking on her own vomit or something.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do now", Vi croaked out, angling her face away.
Vander's eyes took her all in, her eyes were so sad, her cheeks reddening, the wraps on her hands slightly bloody. He breathed out, a hand reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. "You give it time, then you live".
You cradled a drink in your own hand, taking in the atmosphere of the bar on your afternoon off. It was much easier to appreciate the environment of a busy bar when you weren't working at the busy bar. The job wasn't too stressful, most of the customers were friendly, and any that weren't always had Vander to deal with, but still, it always left you with sore ankles and a headache at the end of the night.
"You entered another science thing?", Mylo's voice brought you back to the moment, you were spending the afternoon with Vander's kids, well, all but Vi.
Powder quirked a brow and tilted her head, "Science thing? Do you even know what I do for a living?", her voice teased.
"Uhh... you know... science stuff with metal and tools and such forth", Mylo tried to recover with a snobby little hand wave to make up for the fact he did not use any actual terminology. You smiled behind your pint glass as the siblings began to bicker. Hanging out with these three always hurt your eyes, what with all the eye rolling and everything.
A flash of pink made your head swivel back to the bar, the conversation again becoming rough murmurs in the background as you spotted Vi taking advantage of Vander and Benzo having a heated debate about something probably as boring as what kind of glue is best to use on wood. The woman was sneaking out a whiskey bottle from behind the bar. Your eyebrows scrunched, scratch that, two bottles.
In her defence she was being rather sneaky, it seemed to be only you who had spotted her stealing from her own father and hurrying back down the basement stairs. Your feet moved before you could think, hesitating at the top of the staircase. It felt like a violation of sorts, your boss lived down there after all.
It wasn't as though you'd never been down there before, being close with the others, but heading down there of your own accord felt weird. But you shrugged and headed down two steps at a time, eyes taking in how messy the living area had gotten since you were last down there. Jackets were everywhere, empty glasses, cushions dumped on the floor. Either Vander was on a cleaning strike, or his eldest daughter had set a bomb off.
Your eyes darted to the clanking behind a closed door. You paused before slowly opening it, taking in the sight of Vi's head tipped back as she gulped down the brown liquid. She was beautiful, you couldn't deny that - in a rugged way. She was broad, large muscles, sharp features, you couldn't describe her as anything but beautiful.
Though you quickly schooled your gawking expression when her steely eyes bore into yours. Wasted, yet so focused. "The fuck are you doing here?".
Your lungs took in a deep breath, composing yourself as you gently clicked the door shut. "You know... when I do an inventory take and come up short two bottles I'll have to answer to Vander, right?", you moved forward slowly, almost innocently, trying to make sure she didn't pounce on you and toss you out of the door.
A giggle nearly escaped you when she looked at you suspiciously, the alcohol exaggerating every expression she made. You were sure that those giant hands wrapped around the bottle could do you some serious damage if she so wished, but right now? With those big eyes locked in a squint and her head tilted forward? She looked like a cat who hadn't been fed yet.
"Don't do an inventory check then", she grunted slightly and kicked her feet out into more of a manspread, taking another large gulp that had you sighing.
She still looked pissed, "Look, I dunno what you want from me-", Vi stood finally, her stature looking intimidating as she stepped forward and sized you up. Your hands went up, a foot stepping back, "I just wanted to check in, with everything".
"Yeah, you know... the changes and the people".
Vi scoffed, moving across the creaky floor to perch back down on the old bed, it seemed she didn't deem you a threat. Didn't mean she was any less pissed off, murmuring a few expletives at your expense as she slumped down, facing away from you. It really was sad, how quickly she conked out, her heavy breath evening out, spiky hair flattened against the pillow.
Someone so lost was always hard to see. Your head shook, exhaling a heavy breath whilst picking up the bottles. One was nearly empty, the other still full. Eyes bigger than her stomach you supposed, sighing again before heading upstairs, trying to figure out a way of not getting Vi into shit with her stealing stock.
Vi tried to throw herself into the happiness of being around her family again, she really did. Seven years of not seeing them, not knowing if they were okay. Every time Powder hugged her she just wanted to break down, her baby sister all grown up. She never got to see it.
She participated in the family gatherings, tried to keep up in the conversations her siblings had. 50% of the time her contributions were asking who they were talking about, what that inside joke meant, what the hell the activity was they were talking about, and the other 50% was her just sitting there silently, ears red as her fists clenched and unclenched. They all had things. Jobs, friends, love interests, hobbies, even just junk they decorated their house with. What she would give for some shitty trinkets she could pay for herself.
She needed coins, needed to escape living in this awkward shadow she'd been in the last couple of months since being free. Feeling trapped in a different way.
Your hums filled the bar during closing time again, the responsibility solely on your shoulders with Vander and Benzo out on some little trip for a few days. It was nice, the flicker of the candles, their lives running out shortly, marking the time for you to go, the jukebox playing in the corner, forcing your head to bop lightly as you worked at a stubborn patch of sticky juice on the countertop.
The serenity was shortly pummelled as blue and pink flew through the door. "The pits, Vi?", Powder's croaky voice overpowered the jukebox and made you jump out of your skin.
"I don't get what your problem is", the other, covered in bruises and somewhat tipsy stumbled in after her and slammed the door, eyes burning into you when she realised that your eyes were darting between the two.
"My problem is you're beaten to a pulp, and the pits are illegal now, Violet", Powder was exasperated, making swift work of moving behind the bar, grabbing cloths and vodka before forcing her much larger sister down onto a stool and dabbing her wounds clean. Through all of Powder's anguish, her chewed up lips revealed her worry. Vi had been on a downward spiral and none of the family knew how to help.
Your cheeks puffed out slightly, the awkwardness radiating off of you could warm a small cabin over winter. Shuffling awkwardly away, you reached the jukebox andturned the music off, collecting the coins earned through the course of the night.
Vi's eyes darted to you yet again, before her attention was dragged away. She winced as the cloth touched a particularly deep eyebrow gash, "I'm good at fighting and it's good money-".
"Not worth it", Powder punctuated with another cloth dab.
"I don't get this", her face scrunched up, "Me fighting is how we survived and how you aren't a little pulp on the ground! We fought and fought for everything-".
"We used to", Powder interrupts bluntly, deflating as she tossed the bloodied cloths over the bar and into the bin. The burning silence forced you to busy yourself even further away, sweeping a corner with no dust in as Powder told her sister to get some sleep, pecking her temple before vacating home.
"You can quit acting", Vi looked over at you, breathing in heavy through her nose before she moved over to the jukebox, staring down at it, fiddling with a coin.
Your eyebrows furrowed slightly, moving a little closer, broom in hand. "Don't know which song to play?".
"I know", Vi spoke simply, not elaborating. Her jaw was tense, the pace she was playing with the coin sped up, along with the rise and fall of her chest. A beat later, "This is my first properly earned coin", she breathed out and pushed it through the gap in the machine.
The familiar soft beat of "Our Love" thrummed through the bar after a click of a button. It was a late night favourite amongst the customers, and for some reason it always got Vander to be a little quiet.
"Good choice", you spoke quietly, trying not to anger the woman on edge, who swallowed thickly and nodded. "Was my mom's favourite", she choked out a little, steeling herself by gripping the edges of the jukebox.
You stayed silent, letting Vi have her moment, playing her mothers favourite song with her first legitimately earned cash. You'd all lost people one way or another down in the undercity before it became a place of prosperity. You missed your own mother too.
"My mom used to say music talks to us in a language we don't understand", you sat on a barstool, leaning against the broomstick slightly.
You watched her eyes glance at you from the side before settling on the jukebox again, talking only when the song finished, her voice a croaked whisper, "I think they hate me".
Your heart throbbed, "They don't, they hate seeing you hurt".
"I don't get why you keep... talking to me", her voice picked up again, her tone frustrated, gripping the jukebox harder. "Even Powder treats me like I'm one wrong word away from snapping", she finally looked directly at you, her cheek swollen with a purple tint, small gashed littered across her face.
Your teeth found your bottom lip, nibbling as you tried to think of what to say with Vi's expectant eyes on you. "I think... maybe you remind them of a time they'd rather forget? But I'm sure it'll level out at some point, they still love you. We're all just... still figuring this new world out, right?".
"I keep talking to you because I was angry too, when it all changed". For the first time since you met her, her eyes softened slightly, the powder blue eyes catching you by surprise, your lungs catching in your chest.
"None of it seemed fair", you continued, "How we all were expected to just... move on. Get along with everyone, find a place in a world that for hundreds of years didn't want us. I wanted my mom to live in a world that felt safe too but she never got to have that. I was still furious at Piltover, furious at all the little rebellion groups that went domestic and joined the enforcers. It took years before I could just... breathe", and as if to emphasise your point, your lungs exhaled deeply, your throat tight.
"I thought you were a Piltie when I first saw you", Vi tested the waters and moved to sit next to you at the bar. You swivelled to face her, an amused smile on your face that seemed to catch her off guard, her eyes blinking a few times rapidly. She looked almost terrified of you, like she was the one worried about scaring you off now.
She shrugged, "You just looked too perfect, I guess".
Vi frequented your little studio apartment quite frequently now. She avoided the place like the plague for a while, but when she 'broke the seal' and stopped by for a visit after one of your shifts, she was there non-stop. Might as well live there, especially when you handed her a spare key.
Quite often you'd find her sprawled on the tiny couch in your one-roomed place, her favourite place because it was in a corner. Vi loved corners. Your chest would soar when she stopped by unexpectedly; it was nice to see her relying on someone. Especially with her pit fights - that she still hadn't stopped, even with her family and you telling her to get another job. Vander relentlessly offered her shifts at the bar, but she was stubborn. Didn't want handouts.
So, more often than not, she snuck into your apartment late at night, knuckles bloody, face purple, and body sprawled out on the small chair. Even whilst drunk and injured she could get in without getting caught. It was when she fell asleep that was the problem.
Your eyes blinked open, arms still snuggled up to the corner of your duvet. It sounded like a thunderstorm raging outside in your sleep-addled brain, your fists rubbing your eyes open before peeking through the curtain gap. Clear skies?
You flinched when another bout of "thunder" started, eyes blinking at the mound in the corner of the apartment. A sigh, and another snore.
Your eyes rolled whilst your feet planted onto the floor, lazily padding over to the lightswitch. Her snore turned into more of a gargled pig noise as she woke up and whined. Both adrenaline and alcohol were not in her system anymore, and frankly, she was in agony.
"It's the middle of the night", she grumbled and strained to sit herself up properly, rubbing her face before wincing.
She really was a sight for sore eyes. "Your snoring woke me up again", you spoke simply, once again moving to get some rubbing alcohol. "Why do you do this to yourself?".
She shrugged, face scrunching and staring at the floor, "Takes my mind off things".
"It worries me", you knelt between her legs, tilting her chin to look at you. Her eyes were droopy, sad. She looked guilty, her eyes not able to hold your stare for more than a few seconds.
"'M sorry, sweetheart", her words slurred, and your heart stopped, brain rebooting as you focused on the task at hand, teeth worrying at your bottom lip as you began to clean her up.
Your throat was tight every time she seemed in pain, like you could feel it too. It was stupid, she'd only been in your life for a few months, but she'd melted herself down and squeezed herself into every crack in your soul.
Next were her hands. With gently, practiced movements you unwrapped the bandages, fingers skimming over her swollen knuckles, fighting the urge to bring them up to your lips as you dabbed some ice on them.
"At least stop doing this every night?", your voice pleaded, looking up at her through your eyelashes. She was clearly conflicted, but at this point, she'd move the earth for you, so she nodded. Barely. But you could still see it. The corners of your lips twitched up, pressing your forehead to her knee before standing and packing up.
Vi swallowed harshly, shaking her head a few times when your back was turned to her before sprawling out on the small chair again.
"Nuh uh". She jumped at your voice as you walked quickly and smoothly over to your bed and patted it. "You can't expect for your limbs to feel all better and not-stiff if you crumple yourself up".
She watched in bewilderment when you curled up in your usual corner of the bed and opened the duvet up for her. Her eyebrows fluttered as she slowly moved herself to be upright. "What?".
"Get comfortable", you reiterated and patted the bed again before drooping your head down into the squishy pillow, knowing she'd do as you say and join you in a moment, even if she has to think it over first.
Lo and behold, behind your eyelids you saw the light go off, and felt her creeping into your bed like it was haunted. You opened yours to find hers wide and staring right at you. It scared the shit out of you, but you did a good job at hiding it, not wanting to spook her and have her sprint out of your apartment.
You hummed sleepily, "You okay?".
Vi exhaled deeply, smushing her face into the pillow, "I hung out with Vander and Claggor this evening".
"Before or after the pit?".
"How'd that go?", you chewed your lip again, adjusting yourself on the mattress, the early hours of the morning getting to you, even with Vi being a distraction. Vi itched the shaved part of her head before tugging on the longer hairs on the base of her neck a little, pushing through her own drowsiness.
"It's going okay. I'm adjusting to Vander being different, Claggor's kinda the same. I'm just really struggling with Powder", she murmured, fingers twitching slightly and scooting closer to your position on the mattress.
You scanned her face, "What's different with Powder?".
Her nose scrunched, tongue running across her teeth before she just deflated. "She's everything I hoped she'd grow up into, I'd still fucking die for her, y'know? It's just... Pow likes to fix things, always has done. But ever since I got out, I dunno... just feels like she keeps trying to fix me".
"I don't think you need fixing", you muttered back, lips barely moving as you locked eye contact again. Fuck, she was really beautiful.
"Mm", she hummed, "I dunno about that".
"You're the reason we aren't living in the dirt anymore, think a few war wounds are valid for like, people to accept. You did time for all of us".
She sunk further into the pillowy mattress, her body getting limper and limper the more you made her feel better about herself. "You're sweet". Her voice could barely be heard as she finally passed out, no snoring to be heard thanks to her not being crumpled up on a small piece of furniture. You watched as her worry lines faded away, as peace took over her features. You hoped she was dreaming about nice things.
Just as she took over your apartment, she had taken over your bed after that night. Instead of sneaking in at 1am after a fight and curling up into a ball on the couch, she snuck under your duvet like a stray little poro. On multiple occasions, you woke up to her spooning you from behind, then grumbling and rolling away in the morning.
She relied on you for a lot now. She wouldn't admit it, and neither would you, but she had basically moved in. She rarely slept in the basement in the last drop anymore, only ate at either yours, or takeout from Jericho's, which was now a proper restaurant, and you always patched her up after her fights.
It was no surprise that your little crush on her grew. You loved taking care of her, and having her protective instincts aimed on you in return. On her days off from the pit she would always walk you home, it didn't feel natural to her that the streets were pretty safe.
Her hand was on your lower back as you walked through your apartment door, happy to have Vi here so early, and not sneaking in with a busted face. Her hands were so soft as she helped you out of your jacket, her eyes taking in the familiar surroundings of what was basically her home.
Her own jackets hung up next to yours, space on the shoe rack, her bundled up bandage wraps poking out through the bedside cabinet. She'd well and truly wormed her way into the domestic life, ignoring her participation in an illegal fighting ring three nights a week - keeping to her promise of not doing it every day.
On her nights off, she hung out at the bar, keeping you company as you worked, glaring at any that showed interest in the pretty bartender. On nights you both had off, she'd come food shopping with you, or help you cook, catch up on some books she missed, even go on little hikes alone if she needed the space.
She huffed out a breath as she scanned the apartment. This is never where she thought she'd be. She didn't even know if this was sustainable for her. In her eyes you were perfect, kind, innocent in what had been a cruel world. She was holding her breath, biding her time before she inevitably blew it up.
She shuffled awkardly on the spot, hanging up her own jacket, leaving her in her grey tank top, muscles and tattoos on display that always caught your eye. "Yeah, let's just make dinner", she dismissed and moved past you.
Lips quirked to the side, you watched as she moved into the kitchen. Instead, you perched on the edge of the bed. Thanks to it being a studio, the kitchen was just in the opposite corner, Vi still in sight. "What are you doing?".
You shrugged every so slightly in response, ankles locking over each other. "You seem off, wondered if you wanted to talk".
Another shrug, "You still seem off".
You could sense the frustration radiating off of her, she never liked being questioned. "It's nothing". You stayed quiet, unlocking your ankles to kick them back and forth slightly. It took a moment of a staring contest, but she eventually rolled hers and relented. "Life is quiet now".
"You don't like it?", you seemed a little put out, hurt.
"No I love it", she interjected quickly and shook her head as she sat next to you, "Which means it'll hurt more when it goes away".
"Who said it's going away?".
Vi looked at you like you were stupid, her eye twitching, "It will, it always does".
"Doesn't have to anymore", your eyes bore into hers, your breathing in synch. Both looking so vulnerable. Tentatively, you flexed your fingers before placing your hand over hers. Vi's throat bobbed, blue eyes slowly looking down at the connected skin.
"I'm not good at this... being gentle thing", she croaked out.
That didn't seem right. "You're always gentle with me", you pointed out, heart fluttering as she instead placed her hand on top of yours to interlock your fingers.
"I just- I think I really like you, and I don't know how to do this".
You couldn't help but smile, your soul had let out the biggest sigh of relief. She liked you back? She scoffed, "Don't look so happy about it, not exactly a good luck charm, sweetheart".
"Could you quit moping? We're having a moment", you teased, squeezing her hand.
"...Right", she mumbled, her other hand lifting up a little, trying to figure out where to put it. She settled for your cheek, relishing in how you leaned into it, thumb rubbing up and down your cheekbone.
"Still scared I'm gonna break you".
"You won't", you whispered as she got oh so close. Her breath touched yours, the bruising from previous fights were fading, she looked worn out, but so alive for you.
Her tongue wet her lips, taking her sweet time to move forward more, body trembling. Her eyes were even more beautiful up close, you thought to yourself as you looked back up, unable to think much else of it before she planted her lips on yours, scooting even closer. My god did you think you were going to just pass away as your eyes fluttered shut, soul leaving your body.
That was it now, Vi couldn't keep her hands off you. The last few weeks she had been stuck to you like a little leech, not just waking up with her spooning you, but going to sleep that way too. Sweet little touches, her lips on yours, murmurs into your ear when she gets home from the pit, mumbling about how she thinks you're beautiful, how you've saved her.
She was still terrfied of you though. When she was sober, she dreaded being too rough with you. 'Soft' had not been in her vocabulary for many years, but you were so precious to her, her worst fear was hurting you. And thus, you hadn't made the last step yet. Or more like, she hadn't made the last step yet.
She kept initiating it almost, hands moving to your belt mid-makeout, sneaking a hand into your jeans just moments later. Your breath would hitch as her fingers smoothed over the waistband of your underwear, before they were abruptly removed. She got scared, backing out.
It was okay of course. You didn't mind, and would never pressure. But if she really did want to do it you didn't want her to feel scared of doing it. Her name fell from your lips the next time her hand found its way to your belt, big eyes looking up to yours, teeth worrying on her bottom lip.
"I keep trying", she whispered, nose nudging under your jaw, lips pecking a mark she had already made.
Your hand carded its way through her hair, "What's stopping you?".
The smallest of grunts left her lips, "Only ever done quickies, wanna be able to treat you good".
"Whenever you're ready". Vi blinked, lifting her head up to stare down at you, analysing your expression. You could see her throat tightening, how she swallowed thickly, her eyes hardening as they stared at your belt buckle, softening again when your hand gripped onto her shoulder.
"It's okay", your breath hit her cheek, and she slowly leant down, capturing your lips with hers, slowly, softly, her fingers deftly dealing with your belt.
Your hips raised a little, helping her drag your clothing down. Her pupils blew, taking in your legs for the first time, making the tiniest little whine as her hands squeezed the flesh of your thighs. "You're so fucking beautiful".
Your chest rose and fell rapidly when she stood off of you, removing her own clothes, her boxers cupping her so well in the right places, the wraps she had around her chest looking oh so hot. Your teeth found your bottom lip, hands reaching out to grab at her muscular back when she lifted you up, peeling away your shirt before gently laying you back down.
She kissed you again, one hand rubbing the side of your thigh, one hand coming up to your tits, fingers running up your sternum before she picked a side, both of you moaning when she finally smoothed a hand over your breast and squeezed lightly.
"Fucking hell", she croaked against you, moving to suckle against your throat, distracting you as she slotted one of her defined thighs against your centre.
Oh, the friction was so sweet, it took no time at all for you to be whimpering, hips chasing her leg. It didn't take long for her to feel the damp patch against her bare skin, her lips smirking against your throat before pulling back, laughing breathlessly as she looked down. "Oh baby... already?", she teased lightly, the hand on your thigh moving to rub up and down your clothed centre.
You were so fucking screwed, already seeing stars and she hadn't even got your underwear off yet, but when her thumb managed to rub over your clit and her mouth moved to your nipple, you couldn't help the needy whine you let out.
Violet was oh so smug, not even realising that she'd started to grind against the mattress until she let out her own noise, panting as her hand rubbing your centre got greedier and tugged at your underwear.
She took the chance when your hips bucked again, practically drooling as your wetness came into view. "Oh, fuck, sweetheart", she breathed out, enamoured, "You sure this is okay? I don't wanna- don't wanna do this wrong-".
You squirmed, trying to come back to your senses, desperate for her to touch you again. "I'm sure, I trust you". Her lips formed a soft smile, taking you in again when your hand reached for her bruised one.
"Gonna make you feel so good, I swear", she rushed out nervously, shifting herself lower, staring right at your most intimate place as she got herself comfortable, propping the back of your thighs over her shoulders.
Immediately, your hands went to her short hair, knowing you'd need something to cling to, and you were so right. Her nose nudged your clit before her lips wrapped around it. Your muscles went taut, mouth flying open simultaneously as your hands gripped her hair almost painfully.
She didn't mind. It felt angelic, and she was so lost in the taste of you. To make matters worse, two fingers were already prodding against your entrance, feeling no resistance. "God", she mumbled against you, tongue licking a stripe up your centre before looking up at you.
She took in how gone you looked, how overwhelmed with sensations. How beautiful you looked as she slowly fucked her fingers into you, creating a nice rhythm that made your heels dig into her back, your entire body attempting to swallow her whole.
"I-", you tried to talk, breath catching in your throat when Vi looked to the side and began sucking little marks into your thigh, smoothing her tongue over them after.
It was too much, the way her fingers scissored inside of you and rubbed against that spot that made you allergic to oxygen. Her forehead nestled into the side of your leg before she felt you clench down on her fingers like a vice.
She moved her head back down again, "You're looking real pretty, always looking real pretty", her mouth mumbled against your clit, vibrating through your entire core before she took you into her mouth again.
Your vision blurred hands tugging her hair even tighter somehow as she pushed you over the edge, the hand not working you through your climax rubbed over your hip, holding you down in place as she felt you calming.
"Holy fucking shit", you panted, hands leaving her hair to cover your face, breath hitching as she pulled out.
"You okay?", she sat up, gently moving your legs back down onto the bed, moving to lie next to you, eyes big, vulnerable, when you let out a tired chuckle and ran your hands down your face.
"Felt real good", you rolled over, fingers reaching up to fiddle with the edge of the wraps on her chest. One day she might feel comfortable taking them off, but it's okay that today was not that day.
She looped a thigh over your hip, curling you into her, "You promise? Didn't hurt or anything?", her hand smoothed over your ribs.
"Promise", you spoke softly but resolutely, taking in her flushed expression, and tasting yourself on her lips when she kissed you.
It was quite the celebration when Vi announced she was quitting the pits. Her hands moved animatedly, sitting on the edge of the bed as she told you about how someone was willing to take her on as an assistant at their engineering place.
It was exciting, you were beaming as you congratulated her, so happy to never have to see her all busted up again. Your sweet Vi didn't deserve any of that pain.
Her family was happy to hear the news too, the tension of wanting to keep Vi safe but not wanting to overwhelm her was all but gone, the group having some alone time with some soft drinks after the bar had closed.
It was concerning when she didn't come back home though, you instantly thought the worst. Maybe she'd gotten into a stash of whiskey and ended up at the pits again.
You got all hot and bothered as you hurried to the bar, heavily breathing and ignoring the stitch in your side, pushing the door of the empty bar open, expecting to see no one. Expecting to have to run halfway across town and drag Vi back home before she broke her jaw or something.
But no, your sweet girl was alone at the bar, sipping some fruit juice through a straw, and humming to her mother's favourite song on the jukebox.
She heard the hinges creak and she looked at you with a raised eyebrow, a slow smile forming when she saw it was you.
When your eyes met hers, and she tilted her head for you to come and join her, her expression glowing, you knew you'd both be okay. Your girl was home.
