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When you go into the living room you find Natasha on the couch, with her son Jacob sat on her lap and her daughter Elena cuddled into her side. Before you’ve even had chance to open your mouth both of her children glare at you, making it clear that neither of them wants you interrupting cuddle time with their Mother. You give the three of them a small smile before taking a seat on the armchair by yourself.

You’d begun dating Natasha a year ago and you’d known she had kids from the very start. Natasha had been unable to give birth after her childhood in the Red Room so she’d adopted two children with her ex-girlfriend Rosalie. Although you’d known Jacob was five and Elena was seven you hadn’t known anything else because Natasha hadn’t wanted to introduce you to them too soon. After dating for seven months Natasha had moved in with you and had finally let you meet her two children.

It hadn’t been a good start.

On that first day you’d met Natasha at the local park with a picnic where she’d introduced you to them both. You’d been so nervous and had really wanted them to like you so you’d tried really hard to relate to them both. Maybe too hard – perhaps they could sense it because they hadn’t taken to you at all. Your experience with children was relatively limited. You’re an only child with no nieces and nephews, and your job involved working with older people. Children were a bit of a mystery to you and clearly they could both sense that.

Over the next couple of months you’d continued to try but neither of them were having any of it. Any suggestion you made was met with apathy at best or hostility at worst. You’d tried your best to research the children’s interests – you now knew more about Roblox than you would’ve ever cared to learn but neither of them responded to your questions or discussions. You made the ‘6 7’ joke and they’d both given you an unimpressed look. Even simple things you’d loved as a child like movie night were met with moans and groans then they’d go home to Rosalie and complain they’d been bored all weekend.

God, how you hated Rosalie.

Not only was Rosalie one of the most gorgeous women you’d ever seen, making you feel incredibly insecure, she also clearly still harboured feelings for your girlfriend. Natasha had reassured you the break-up was mutual, that Rosalie wasn’t interested in her like that anymore but you suspected that wasn’t the truth. And even if it had been, Rosalie was clearly still attracted to her.

“Oh, no, they can’t go trick or treating.” Rosalie had told you with a tinkly laugh when you’d had them both over for Halloween “We don’t encourage begging.”

So instead you’d tried to throw them a small Halloween party at home to make it exciting for them only for both the children to complain and ask why they’d couldn’t go trick or treating like they had last year with Mommy.

Natasha found the whole thing amusing which only heightened your frustration “I’m trying my best but they still don’t like me.” You’d complained one night, folding your arms “What am I doing wrong?”

“Nothing, they’re still just upset about the split.” Natasha had said, rubbing your shoulder as she sat next to you on the bed “It’s not about you.”

“Jacob told me he hated me this morning. Just because I asked what type of cereal he wanted.”

Natasha kissed your cheek “He’s a kid, kids say stupid stuff. He didn’t mean it.”

“Okay, well can you talk to them? Because they’re not being very nice to me.”

Natasha had given you a look and your cheeks had heated up, realising how childish your words must sound. But they were true – the children weren’t very nice to you and Natasha never really told them off or asked them to apologise “Love, they’re only young and they’re still adjusting to me being with someone new.” Natasha said “Give them some time.”

Now here you are, marooned onto the uncomfortable armchair in your own home because your girlfriends kids won’t let you anywhere near her. Elena gives you a pointed look and then kisses Natasha’s cheek “I love you Mama. I wish you and Mommy were still together.”

Natasha simply kisses Elena’s cheek in return and doesn’t say anything. You feel another stab of irritation but don’t say anything, knowing you’ll only be fuelling the fire. Jacob looks up at Natasha this time “Mama, Mommy said you’re both going to take us to see Santa this year.”

Your eye-brows furrow. Natasha hadn’t mentioned anything about you and her taking the kids to see Santa. You’d figured Rosalie would want to do that, given you’d had them for Halloween. Natasha’s voice interrupts your thoughts “That’s right, Mommy got in touch with me and we’re both going to take you see Santa. Won’t that be fun?”

You falter at that “Both of you as in… You and Rosalie?”

Natasha gives you a small smile “Yeah, we both wanted to take the kids so it made sense to go together.”

It does make sense. Sort of. Except… Where’s your invite? Natasha is dating you now; it would be weird for her to go with just Rosalie… Right? Maybe it would be nice for the kids for both parents to be there but they’re not a couple anymore and you’re worried it will send them a confusing message. It doesn’t help that whilst both the children look delighted Elena also throws you a smug look.

You swallow hard and try to put on a bright smile “That’s great! You know, when I was a kid, it was tradition to put the Christmas tree up the first weekend in December and then we’d all have hot chocolate. Do you guys wanna help?”

“We get a real tree the weekend before Christmas. Fake ones are ugly.” Elena says, wrinkling her nose.

“Yeah, we want a real tree!” Jacob says, copying his sister.

“Maybe we could have two trees this year?” Natasha suggests “Y/N has a really nice fake tree, it looks almost like the real thing-”

“No, we want a real one Mama!” Elena says with a pout.

Natasha just laughs and doesn’t push the issue any further, pressing a kiss to the top of her daughters head. You feel your eyes prickle with tears and blink quickly – it’s dumb to get upset over something like a Christmas tree but the kids constant rejections of anything you suggest is starting to get to you. Not helped by the fact you know Natasha is going to be spending time with her ex. You take a deep breath. They just need time, you keep telling yourself. They’ll warm to you eventually.

December is one of your favourite months but you’re not in the festive spirit this year. Natasha asked if you wouldn’t mind honouring the children’s tradition of picking out a real tree the weekend before Christmas so the house feels barer than usual for the majority of the month. Every suggestion of a festive activity you could do with the kids is met with more rejection. Ice-skating hurts their feet apparently. The new Christmas film at the movie theatre looks boring. They don’t want to walk around the Christmas light trail. When you suggest having a living room sleepover beneath the tree the day you put it up they both look at you like you’re insane.

You feel even worse when you see the photos Natasha took when her and Rosalie took the children to see Santa. Mostly they’re of the kids and at first you’re pleased they had a nice time. But then there are family photos – Natasha and Rosalie look like a couple. Rosalie’s arm is around Natasha in all of them. It makes you feel insecure but Natasha barely notices.

The biggest bomb shell comes when Natasha returns from dropping the kids’ home. The plan has been that Rosalie will have them for the next couple of days then you’ll have them on Christmas Eve leading into Christmas Day before they head home Christmas evening to be back with Rosalie. Natasha appears in the doorway “Hey… Change of plan about Christmas.”

You pause the TV and look over at her from the couch “What do you mean?”

“The kids want us both there for Christmas so I’m going to go to Rosalie’s on Christmas Eve and stay there until Boxing Day.”

There’s a long silence as you analyse Natasha’s face, looking for a hint of guilt – an understanding that she knows this is wrong. You find nothing though. She hasn’t mentioned you and although you already know an invite hasn’t been extend to you, you have to ask “So what about me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll be at Rosalie’s and I’ll, what, just be at home? By myself?”

“You could go to your Mom’s.”

You purse your lips. You have a difficult relationship with your Mom and Natasha damn well knows that “How is this fair? It’s like two days until Christmas, she’s not expecting me. We have plans Nat, I got food in-”

“It won’t go to waste, we can have a late Christmas dinner on Boxing Day.”

“No! This- Nat, come on.” You stand up, running a hand through your hair “Look, the kids taking their time to accept me is one thing. They’re only kids. But you running off to be with Rosalie every time she says jump-”

“Rosalie didn’t ask, the kids did-”

“Through Rosalie! Nat, you’ve broken up, you’re confusing the kids by constantly doing things as a four as if you’re still with her-”

“Are you serious? How is this confusing? We’re still their parents even if we’re not a couple-”

“My own parents broke up when I was young, they didn’t keep getting back together to do ‘family’ things because there was an acknowledgement that whilst they both still loved me they didn’t love each other anymore and they weren’t a joint family anymore! We have plans for Christmas, you can’t just ditch me to spend it with your ex-”

“I’m not! I’m spending it with the kids-”

“They were due to come here! It’s not like I’m keeping you away from them! You would’ve seen them anyway and I wouldn’t have been left out!” You fume, folding your arms.

Natasha rolls her eyes “So this is about you, not about whether it’s confusing for the kids.”

“I’m your girlfriend Nat and you’re really happy to just leave me by myself in favour of being with your ex?”

“With the kids Y/N, stop being so goddamn selfish! They’re only little!”

“You seriously think this is me being selfish? That two days before my favourite day of the year you’ve pulled the plug on all of our plans? Even if I wanted to I can’t go to my Mom’s now. So I get to just spend the day by myself whilst you’re with your ex-”

“Oh for- Look, I guess I could ask Rosalie if you could come but the kids kind of wanted it to just be the four of us-”

“I don’t-” You let out a frustrated groan “I don’t want to spend the day at your ex’s house Nat. Tell her we had plans and that we’re going to stick to them. The kids will need to deal with the fact that Christmases with their parents are separate now-”

“I’m not talking about this with you anymore, you’re being so unreasonable.”

“I- You think I’m being unreasonable? Are you serious?” You follow Natasha into the kitchen as she keeps her back turned to you “And if I suddenly announced I was going to spend Christmas with my ex, you-”

“You don’t have children Y/N!” Natasha shouts, turning around and getting right in your face “You don’t get it! The kids don’t want to spend Christmas with you, you try too hard! You’ve put them off at every turn, you-”

“Don’t you dare fucking shout at me like that. Your kids have been difficult since day one and I have done my best to be accommodating and now you’re going to act like I’m the problem?”

“You’re the one being bitchy about me spending Christmas Day with my own kids so yes, I would say you're definitely the problem right now."

“Fuck you Nat.” You snap, storming out of the kitchen “Fuck you!”

You go into the bedroom the two of you share, so much pent up anger inside of you that you’re not sure what to do. With a frustrated grunt you whack your pillow a few times before sitting down and burying your face in your hands. You can’t do this anymore. Those kids not liking you was one thing but this is too much. You’re beginning to suspect most of the kids complaints aren’t even coming from them directly anyway, they’re coming from Rosalie.

A few times you’d seen the unexpected side to Nat’s children, the kind of moments that had you convinced they were finally warming to you. Natasha had been called into the compound at the last minute, leaving you to look after them both so you’d take them both to the zoo. Jacob had held your hand the entire time you’d walked around while Elena, ever the animal lover, had told you fact after fact about the various animals in the pens. You’d all sat down to watch the sea lion show and Jacob had wanted to sit in your lap whilst Elena had kept letting out excited squeals.

Away from the influence of their parents they were sweet kids. You could even see yourself loving them one day. But the longer they remained under Rosalie’s thumb, the longer this would get dragged out.

An hour goes by and you just sit there, letting everything run through your head. Natasha doesn’t come to check on you once. You have to accept the difficult truth – this isn’t the kids’ fault. And now it isn’t even Rosalie’s. Yes, she’s chasing Nat and undermining your relationship… But Natasha is letting her. And maybe she’ll always let her.

Another thirty minutes go by before Natasha finally comes in and she sees you packing your suitcase. She sighs “What is this?”

“I’m leaving. Maybe just for Christmas but maybe forever, I haven’t decided yet.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?”

“No, I don’t.”

Natasha sighs as she watches you continue packing “So you’re going to your Mom’s after all?”

“No, I’m going to Maria’s. Turns out she’s spending Christmas alone too.” You’d become close with Maria Hill after spending time at the compound with Natasha. If Natasha was too busy you and Maria had gravitated towards each other until you’d become firm friends.

Natasha purses her lips “So you’re really going to get mad at me for spending Christmas with my ex then go spend it at Maria’s house like I’m meant to be totally cool with that?”

“I’m mad at you for a lot of things Natasha and quite frankly, I’m done. I love that you put those kids first, that’s how it should be. But now you’re prioritising Rosalie over me and I won’t stand for that.”

“So you’re done? You’re not my girlfriend anymore?”

“Looks like it.”

Natasha’s expression falters at that though she tries her best to school it back into a disinterested frown “Just because I want to spend Christmas with my children?”

“Your stubborn insistencies that that’s my problem rather than addressing the actual problem – the problem I’ve told you about multiple times and you don’t take seriously. If you want to run around after Rosalie then fine but I’m not interested.”

You grab your suitcase and head down the corridor. Natasha hesitates, wanting to call out to you but she doesn’t. You open the door and slam it closed behind you.

Natasha stands in the hallway of the apartment that you’d shared, not sure what to do with herself now. Her phone beeps, a selfie from Rosalie of her and the kids. Natasha sighs. Her kids come first. That’s what she tells herself.

You hadn’t made the priority list at all. And now you were gone. Probably for good. Natasha runs a hand through her hair. How had it all gone so wrong? She'd thought she could balance her old life with her new one but... Maybe she hadn't managed it.

Vi stares at it for a second before gulping it back, grimacing around the clash of liquors and half-blended mixer as it burns its way down her throat. Almost immediately, a warmth starts to buzz behind her ears and she remembers, somewhat belatedly, that she’s had nothing to eat since having two bananas and an ancient granola bar before the game.

She shakes her limbs loose and reaches out to refill her cup, but Jayce catches her hand.

She’s about to argue when he points towards a sofa halfway across the room and Vi’s eyes follow it only to find you, sitting there with a cup of your own, laughing at something someone’s saying, and it takes Vi another second to realize that the person next to you is Margot, her bleached blond hair fading into acid green tips, her snakebite piercings glinting in the dim neon lights.

Vi’s pushing through the throng of people towards you before she can stop herself, careless of the hands that thump her on the back, the congratulatory sentences, cut off by the way she pulls way, till she’s standing feet from you, and your eyes twist up to meet hers.

The smile on your lips only falters slightly, but she doesn’t miss the way your gaze flicks down the length of her body, ticking back up to her lips, where it lingers for a beat too long before she finds your eyes with her own again.

There’s a dull, pleasant ache somewhere behind her navel as she notices how much darker your eyes are the second time around.

“Hey six,” Margot drawls, shifting back and stretching out her legs, “we were wondering when you were gonna get here. But don’t worry — I was keeping your little ice minx here company for you.”

Vi purses her lips, tries not to think too hard on the fact that your knee is so close to Margot’s leg it’s almost touching.

“Uh thanks but — can I — can I get a minute?” Vi asks, jerking her head towards the kitchen, praying to the heavens that it’s empty.

You bite down on your bottom lip, but you nod and push yourself up from the couch, glancing back at Margot with tiny smile.

“Thanks for the advice,” you say.

She smirks, “Anytime, dollface.” She wiggles her fingers and winks as she catches Vi’s eyes, and Vi makes a mental note to send her a thank you text later.

Vi leads you through the party with her hand around your wrist, but by the time you reach the door leading into the kitchen, her grip’s loosened just enough for you to slip your fingers between hers. But when she tries to open the door, she finds it locked.

“What the —”

She wiggles the door knob, wondering who on earth would want to lock the door to a sorority house kitchen, and then, a melodious voice says from the other side —

“What’s the magic word?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Mel, it’s us.”

A beat of silence later, the doorknob twists and the door slips open just a silver. Mel’s bright hazel eyes appear in the crack, her lashes limned in gold as she looks at you and then at Vi, then back at you again.

“Those aren’t the magic words,” she says, though she does open the door a few inches wider, her expression smug.

You groan, crinkling your nose before you lick your lips.

“Fine, please.”

Mel’s smile widens as the door opens and Vi steps through, pulling you along after her.

Mel’s eyebrows hitch up as she catches your free arm in her delicate hand.

You give her a soft squeeze and mouth thank you. She gives the pair of you a satisfied nod before letting you go and pressing a small key into Vi’s chest.

“Do not —”

Vi nods, “Fuck this up. Yeah… I know.”

Mel gives you both a final look before slipping from the kitchen and bringing the door closed behind her. Vi stares at it for a beat, digging her thumb into the jagged teeth of the tiny key before reaching over to lock the door behind her.

You let out a soft breath, folding your arms across your chest, your shoulder shrugging up as you suddenly remember that you’re still wearing Vi’s varsity jacket.

Vi turns around and you both speak at the same time —

“Look, I’m sorry about the —”

“I shouldn’t have walked out —”

Vi purses her lips around a burgeoning smile even as you let out a tiny laugh, shaking your head.

She waves an awkward hand as you lean back against the kitchen island. Distantly, Vi remembers the way you’d sunk down on the other side just about a month ago, how later that same night she’d hoisted you up onto the countertop and kissed you till there was no more breath in her lungs left to give.

“I… I’m sorry I freaked out like that in the locker rooms…” you say, twisting your arms tighter around yourself as Vi nods, leaning back against the closed door.

“I just saw that text come in and I thought…” you swallow.

“I know, princess… it was my fault for —” she heaves a sigh, motioning haphazardly at the air, “not cutting her off sooner.”

You let out a soft laugh, “Yeah. Mel told me that she reminded Jayce to —”

“— tell me to block her. Yeah. And he did… I just…” Vi shrugs, sheepish, “… forgot.”

Your lashes flutter as your gaze cuts away from her face.

“Wow —” you say a second later, your voice threaded through with mirth, and when Vi looks back at you, it’s to find you smiling, “we’re really kinda shit at this, aren’t we?”

Vi puffs out a laugh, letting her head knock back against the door.

“Yeah… you can say that again.”

“So…” you say, fingers worrying at the hem of your little black dress.

Vi cocks her head, her eyes caught on the movement, and suddenly, heat plumes up the back of her neck at the memory of you, with your thighs slotted on either side of hers, the feel of your soft skin beneath her palms as she’d slowly worked up the hem of that very same dress.

She takes a deep, steadying breath.

“So?” she echoes.

You’re watching her with pink lips and damson cheeks.

“So… what now?”

Vi pulls an exaggerated sort of thinking-face before pushing off the door, taking the few steps forward to put herself in your personal space. She relishes in the way you gasp, lashes fluttering as your palms come up to rest against her chest, but you don’t make to push her away.

“Well, I’m not one for a lot of foreplanning but right now… I think I’d just like a do-over from the last time we were in this position.”

“Y-yeah?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as she settles her hands on your hips and digs her fingers into the plush of of your ass.

“Mhm… what’dyou think, pretty girl? That a good place to start for us?”

Your answering yes is cut short by the squeak you make as Vi hoists you up to place you on the kitchen island, her nose digging into the soft spot just beneath your jaw, breathing you in till her head spins, her thumb trailing up the soft of your thigh till you’re trembling.

“V-Vi?”

Vi pulls back just far enough to catch your eyes, and from up this close, she can see the thin trails of glitter running down your cheeks, the slight redness to your lashes that tells her you’d been crying. Guilt twists like a stitch in her side, and she bites back a sigh.

“What is it?” she asks. She watches you watching her, your eyes searching hers as if you were looking for something — a question, or an answer, or perhaps just the answering truth to the lies that both of you have been trying so desperately to tell yourselves.

You swallow, tracing a thumb across the small tattoo on her cheek; and then, you smile a smile that might just rhyme with forgiveness.

“Kiss me.”

So Vi does, the kiss itself shredding the air between you until there’s nothing left but the gut-clenching friction of her lips on yours. You gasp open for her, so beautifully that Vi almost stumbles back, but instead, she tips herself forward and pours herself into your pliant mouth. You taste like honeyed bourbon and stolen midnights, like the first breath of air on a winter’s morning or maybe just the next few decades of her entire life.

She pulls away breathless, moaning thick into the skin of your neck, hissing at the sting of your fingers curled into her hair, at the sound of your hitching gasps as she inches a hand between your thighs and swears when her fingers find you slick and wanting.

“F-fuck — Vi —”

“Holy shit —” Vi presses her face into your neck, letting her fingers slip through the folds of your wet heat, desire sparking through her veins like lightning in a gathering storm. She drops to her knees, nudging yours apart with her palm, yanking you till you’re nearly slipping off the edge of the counter, but you tug at her hair with a soft whine.

“W-wait, Vi —”

“Mm, don’t wanna wait anymore, princess — wanna taste you so bad — fuck —”

“No — Vi, please —”

She pauses then, looking up to find your eyes blown dark, your lashes fluttering like hummingbird wings as you watch her with your bottom lip caught beneath your teeth.

“It’s just — I don’t want our first time to be —” you motion weakly at the sorority house kitchen, your cheeks going blotchy, “and the counter’s… kinda cold and…” you drop your hand to grip the edge of the counter “… uncomfy,” you finish, rather lamely, your voice trailing off as Vi puffs out a laugh against your inner thigh, pushing herself back up with a crooked smile.

“Mm… you really are a princess, aren’t you?” Vi teases, even as she helps you off the counter and tugs down your dress for you. You pout up at her, but she rolls her eyes, grinning.

“Right, c’mon then —” she links your fingers and unlocks the kitchen door, tugging you once more into the disorienting throng of the party.

Halfway to the door though, your limbs go cold as the pair of you run smack into Caitlyn, this time sans her new ginger girlfriend.

“Vi — good, I was hoping to run into you —” she says, her eyes flickering over you for a second before it settles back on Vi.

You swallow, wondering if you should pull away, but Vi tugs you into her side and slips a possessive arm around your waist.

“Sorry, Cait — can’t really talk right now. I’ve gotta go fuck the brains outta my girlfriend — nice seeing you though — enjoy the party, go Enforcers!” she says, grinning wide as she pulls you through the rest of the way to the door, leaving Caitlyn slack-jawed and speechless behind you.

You let out an incredulous laugh as both of you stumble out of the door and onto the front porch. Vi chuckles as the door slams shut behind her, a little self-conscious even as you turn to stare at her.

“Wow… that was…” you purse your lips as Vi shrugs, tugging you back into her chest for a soft kiss.

“Impressed?”

You giggle, nodding, moaning soft against her lips as the pair of you fumble towards Vi’s car.

“I was gonna say impulsive,” you say, slipping into the passenger’s seat. Vi starts the engine and rips out of the parking space and down the street before you even have the time to properly buckle in your seatbelt.

“Yeah. Wonder who I learned that from.”

She shoots you a cheeky grin, reaching over the center console to grab a handful of your thigh, squeezing just hard enough to make you groan.

The car’s not even properly parked before the pair of you are stumbling into her apartment building, her pressing you up against the elevator wall, lips caught on the junction of your neck, her teeth sinking into your delicate skin. She takes a savage satisfaction in the knowledge that you’ll be sporting that mark for the next five to seven business days, at least.

You’re barely through her door before she’s walking the pair of you towards her room, kicking open the door and almost toppling through. You giggle as she trips over something on her floor and fumbles for the light switch, flicking it on as light spills into her messy bedroom, the walls papered in posters — everything from bands to hockey stars to what looks like an outdated bikini-model calendar.

Your eyebrows kick up as you take in the scene, an amused grin playing at your lips

“Oh wow…” and there’s a lilt in your voice that makes Vi’s face go hot. She regrets not at least cleaning up the laundry on her bed as she shoves it off onto the floor with an arm.

“What? Not up to your standards, princess?”

You purse your lips, delicately picking your way across the room to plop down on her unmade bed.

“Y’know, I think that first frat house room might’ve been cleaner.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Your grin goes slanted as you toe off your heels and inch back onto the bed, your legs spreading just a bit wider. Vi’s breath goes still in her chest as you lean back slightly on your arms, your head cocking slowly to one side.

“Is that a promise, six?”

Vi groans, yanking her shirt from her back with a single hand, tossing it somewhere behind her, her fingers fumbling with her belt, kicking off her pants as she crawls onto the bed towards you.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, princess —”

Your lashes flicker as she pushes up the hem of your dress, letting out a low breath as she finally sets eyes on you, a curse puffing out of her as she reaches down to slick two fingers between the puffy lips of your sodden pussy.

You let out a soft whimper, your head lolling back, but when she lifts her head to look at you, it’s to find you watching her with dark, lidded eyes.

“I-I’ve always wondered… how’d you pick your number? Is it like… a ranking system o-or — ah — like — on a ten-point scale o-or — mmngh —”

Vi hums, watching your lashes feather across your cheek as she flicks her thumb around your throbbing clit, her blood a spring-water rush behind her ears as she feels you jerk beneath her.

“We really gotta do something about that mouth of yours, princess…” she murmurs before tugging her hand from between your legs and pressing her slick fingers to your lips. You mouth falls open just as easily as she remembers, and she has to swallow down another thick groan as you suck her fingers into your mouth, your tongue swirling around them to collect the taste of your own juices from her skin.

Your eyes flash open to meet hers, and the contact jolts right through her to her own aching cunt.

“Sweet fuck, pretty girl — I — I thought you said you’d never done this shit before?”

A tiny frown flickers across your forehead before you roll your eyes, giving her fingers a good hard suck before pulling back to lick your lips, sitting up slightly to tug her forward.

“I said I’d never really been on a date before — not that I’ve never had sex before.”

A startled breath stitches from Vi’s chest as you flip the pair of you till you’re straddling one of her muscular thighs, your own thigh pressing up between her legs to rub deliciously against her aching pussy.

She hisses out a breath as you roll your hips down over her leg, moaning low in your chest, your head falling back, the dress you’re wearing still rucked up at your waist.

“Those post-Gala parties can get… a little wild…” you say distractedly, picking up a slow rhythm, grinding down against her, your wetness slicking along her skin, making the most toe-curling noises every time you rock your hips forward and back.

Vi groans, reaching up to help you pull the dress off, her mind going fuzzy at the sight of your perfect tits, bouncing out of the tight black dress, your nipples hard and pebbling in the cool air of her room.

“F-fu-fuck that’s hot —” she says, leaning up to suck a nipple into her mouth, teasing her teeth over the sensitive flesh, grinning at the way it makes your hips stutter. She can’t help the quick little jerks of her own hips against your thigh as well, slotted along her clothed cunt, her boxers now well and soaked through.

“Vi — Vi —” you whine, the sound going straight to her clit as you rock down against her, your fingers reaching down to tug her closer.

“Y-yeah? Tell me, princess — wh-what do you want?”

She groans as you shift and your thigh presses harder against her, your own cunt squelching messily over her leg.

“Want — wanna ride your fingers —”

“Oh shit, yeah?” she swallows, adjusting back as you lift your hips up, “want my fingers inside you? How many d’you think you can take, princess? Hm?”

She pauses when she feels you scrabbling at the waistband of her boxers, a tiny laugh puffing from her at the pout on your face.

“Off,” you say, almost petulantly, as Vi shifts her own hips to jerk them off her legs, tossing the to one side.

“There, happy?”

You grin, sinking back over her thigh, looping your arms around her shoulders as she shifts her right hand beneath your sopping cunt and teases two fingers around your entrance.

“You never answered my question, sweet girl — how many fingers, hm?” she asks, even as you whine.

“Don’t — dunno — just — just wanna feel you inside me — please —”

Vi hums, watching your face as pleasure twists across your features.

“Then count for me — yeah? Can you do that?”

You nod, eager and desperate, and Vi chuckles, because she’s not sure if you even know what you’re agreeing to anymore. She pushes a finger passed your soaked folds and immediately feels you clench around her, the pressure making her own cunt squeeze. She hisses out a breath, rocking you down over her, shifting her hips to rut up against your leg.

“O-one —” you gasp, lifting your hips up to drop them back down again, your fingers digging into her skin of her back.

“More?” she asks, as you bounce a couple more times, and you nod, just as fervent as the first time, if not more so. She chuckles, “alright then —”

“T-two — oh — oh.”

She sinks another finger into you and revels in the way you keen, loud and high in the back of your throat, your head tossing back as you start to ride her fingers proper, your hair tumbling down around your shoulders. She reaches up with her free hand to fist a handful into her palm, yanking back slightly to bare your throat to her, groaning when she leans forward to suck another hard bruise into the skin of your collarbone.

“M-more — more Vi — want — want you to stretch me out — fuck — mm —”

“Fuck — shit — yeah? Want me to fuck you loose? That it?”

Vi’s head spins and she feels nearly delirious with want as she pushes a third finger into you, watching as your mouth falls open around a silent moan, your whole body shuddering around her. You’re so wet, so tight, and the growing ache between her own legs is starting to reach a fever pitch as she shamelessly rucks against your thigh, still slotted between her own.

“Yes, yes — fuck — Vi wanna — want you to stuff me full — fuck, fuck, fuck —”

“Shit, princess — so fuckin’ nasty — so needy —”

You nod, bouncing yourself so hard and fast that Vi has to take a second to marvel at how strong your legs are. She thanks the heavens for the innate athleticism required for figure skating before her thoughts smear into a crackling mess of pleasure as you inch your hand into the space between her cunt and your legs — your fingers pressing messily between her folds.

“Vi, Violet — can I — wanna feel you — want y-you to feel good too —”

Vi nearly loses it then, nodding, spreading her own legs wider to give you more access as you work three fingers into her sloppy cunt with no warning.

“F-fuck!”

You curl your fingers and Vi swears she starts to see stars.

“Y-yeah? Feel good?”

Vi nearly whimpers as she feels you pump your fingers up into the tender bundle of nerves inside her, her own fingers squelching noisily as you fuck yourself down on them. It’s all too much, and before she knows it, the tension in her stomach is snapping like a thread, her cunt pulsing around your fingers as her orgasm shakes through her, white pops of pleasure sparking behind her eyes.

“Mm — holy shit — oh my god… fuck —” she gulps down air, blinking her eyes as the shape of you comes back into focus above her, the buzzing inside her head still ringing with the aftermath of her high. She notes, vaguely, that you’re smiling down at her, a second before you lean down to press your lips to hers in a sweet kiss.

Vi hums into the kiss, her breath hitching slightly as she feels you pull your fingers from her. And when you pull back to pop them into your mouth, she feels another shudder work through her. Somewhere in the back of her head, there’s a small voice chanting holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck how did I get so lucky? over and over again till it becomes the baseline thrum that drives her to lean up, pushing you down onto your back with a hazy, indulgent smile.

“C’mere, princess — as much as I love watching you ride me —” she inches her way down your body, trailing a few kisses down your chest, pausing to circle her tongue around your nipples just to make you arch up into her. She drops a few lingering kisses down the line of your abs, before puffing a hot breath over your throbbing clit, her fingers spreading your dripping cunt lips open.

She swallows, groaning to herself.

“I’ve been dreaming about tasting you for weeks.”

You let out a soft whine above her, and she feels your fingers sinking into her hair. She glances up and marvels at the sight of your body, laid bare like this above her mess of sheets, writhing for her as she finally drops her mouth to you, licking a long strip along your slit, her eyes nearly rolling back at the taste of you soaking her tongue.

“A-ah! Vi!”

It doesn’t take long after that, a few good, hard sucks on your clit, and her pushing three fingers back into you, and you’re coming apart for her, your thighs shaking as you whine and jerk and gasp your way through your orgasm, Vi fucking you through it slow, leaning up to press a kiss to your shoulder as your breaths start to even out and your lashes flicker open again.

“Hey there, princess,” she grins.

You’re still a little breathless, but you pull her down for another long kiss, tracing her jaw with your thumb.

“Hey,” you answer, pulling away.

Vi chuckles, slumping down on to the bed next to you to stare at the pebbled ceiling. The warmth of her old Christmas lights casting everything in a soft, diffused glow. She feels you shift and tuns to find you looking at her, your cheek pillowed on your arm.

She shifts to mirror your position, reaching out a hand to stroke your cheek.

You catch her hand with a smile, wrapping your fingers around hers as you say —

“Six. I get it now.”

Vi frowns. “What?”

You splay your palm over hers, touching the tip of her pointer finger with yours as you start to count.

“One, two, three —” you say, a mischievous grin twisting your lips as you point to her middle and ring finger, before pointing to your own hand, “four, five, six,” you finish, wiggling the three fingers that had so recently been shoved into her throbbing cunt.

Vi stares at you for a solid few seconds before she shoves her face into her pillow and screams.

“Oh my god — get the fuck outta here!” but she surfaces laughing, and you’re laughing too, and the sound is so intoxicating, so mind-numbingly lovely that she thinks if she could, she’d grind your laughter into powder and get high on the lines of your smile.

She inches forward to pull you closer, tucking you into her chest.

“You’re insane, you know that?” she asks, pressing her lips to your forehead as you giggle. You wiggle your arms around her middle till your bodies are pressed curve for curve, skin to skin. And you settle against her as if you were always made to be there to begin with.

“Mm, been told a few times…” you murmur, your voice soft.

A tiny clink jars both of you from your post-orgasmic stupor, and you both pull back, only to find your necklaces linked — the pendants stuck together with a pair of tiny magnets set at the point of each teardrop, so small that Vi hadn’t noticed when you’d first given it to her.

“Oh, I didn’t get to show you this back in the locker rooms but…” you reach up to tug the two pendants apart before letting them snap back together.

“The necklaces come as a pair and they link together like this —” you show her the two pendants, the shape something like an hourglass or the two rabbit ears of a perfectly tied bow.

“That’s cute, but… what’s it supposed to be? A time-turner thing?” Vi pushes herself up on an elbow to try and get a better look.

You shake your head, pouting slightly.

“Nope! Well, I mean, it’s sold as an infinity symbol cause —” you roll your eyes, “forever and all that crap —”

Vi smirks, “Oh yeah. That crap.”

You shoot her a look before continuing, your cheeks burning, “But… it reminded me of a figure eight. You do those in hockey too, right?”

Vi nods, “Yeah, they’re drills that we run. Pretty basic.”

You nod, “And in figure skating, we used to have these mandatory figures we’d have to skate to demonstrate our edge control — hence the name figure skating. Amara still makes us do them, because she’s old fashioned as all hell, but I just thought… it was kinda nice… for the two of us…” your voice trails off as you drop your hand and the two pendants hang, suspended between the pair of you with nothing but their own magnetism.

Vi licks her lips, “Yeah… it is nice.”

She leans in, tilts your head up for a kiss, but you tug back just an inch.

“Vi…?”

“Hm? What is it?”

You blink up at her, a flash of uncertainty flickering behind your eyes as you glance down at her lips.

“We’re… we’re dating now… right?”

Vi stares. And stares. And then, she pulls back with a dramatic groan.

“Oh my god, you did not just seriously hit me with the what are we after we’ve just fucked each other into another dimension, after I’ve been wearing the necklace that you gave me, the one that matches your necklace —”

You scramble forward to push Vi down, yelping.

“Okay! Okay — I’m sorry! It’s just —”

Vi raises her eyebrows, pinning you with a look even though you’re perched above her, your hands clamped over her wrists.

“Neither of us ever properly asked the other one out, and — and I know you said girlfriend in front of Caitlyn back at the party but —”

“Hey princess?”

You break off, blinking as she pushes up and settles you over her lap.

Vi smiles, tugging your chin towards her.

“Will you go out with me?”

The smile that breaks across your lips is so pretty, so tooth-achingly sweet that Vi thinks she just has to lean forward and taste it.

So, she does.

You nod, breathless even as she chases your lips, breaking the kiss with a gasp.

“Yes — yes… I will.”