way-2-haught

[way-2-haught]

Like a Movie Scene – V.P

Pairing: van palmer x fem!reader

Summary: Van Palmer should come with a warning sign. She invades your life with her crooked smiles and stupid jokes and draws you into her orbit without even asking for permission, as if it were something destined to happen. Which, you assume, it probably is.

Word count: 7,1k.

Content: No crash!AU, cursing, mentions of homophobia (it’s the 90’s), friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, a little angst, shitty families, LOTS of movie references, the yjs being normal teenagers.

Note: Van is a flirty little shit but also a complete loser and we love her for that.

English is not my first language.

Van Palmer should come with a warning sign or at least a 'no returns' marked on the tag of her football jerseys.

You don't think it would have done any good, though. Van draws you into her orbit from the first moment you met, like a bright and warm sun; allowing you to exist steadily in her life even though, technically, she has invaded yours.

You suppose then, that you wouldn't have it any other way.

It's likely you guys would never have really spoken to each other if it weren't for a mix-up between your practice schedules and a stupid argument between your coaches.

You see, the track team – which you were part of – always had practice right after the football team, because Wiskayok High School barely had the structure to keep both a girls and boys football team running properly, let alone a decent space for the few other sports the small-town school offered. Your practices took place on the same days of the week and one after the other, always at the same time. It was the implicit rule: from 4:30 pm the field is yours.

Coach Martínez didn't seem to care, however, because there he was arguing with your coach. Since apparently football practice had run late and the girls just needed to train for an hour and a half.

Your coach wasn't having any of it – your time was already too short without these changes –, and now both men were in the middle of the field screaming in each other's faces while poor coach Scott tried to calm them down.

“Dude.” you recognize Natalie Scatorccio’s tired and rasp voice beside you: “They could just cancel and let us go.”

You and apparently most people there, if the expressions of annoyance and crossed arms were any indication, couldn't agree more.

"Right?" You said. “Look at them, you think they’re gonna fight?”

Nat let out an amused snort, “They’re going to eat Coach Ben alive, that’s what they’re gonna do.”

You would have said something else if it weren't for a third voice coming from right behind you:

“They're gonna kiss, look how close their faces are.” It was Van Palmer, the goalie, with red hair swinging in a ponytail and a smirk on her lips. She shook her head in mock disappointment and crossed her arms, pointing with her chin at the scene, “In front of us, kids? What a lack of professionalism.”

You choke on a laugh and her gaze snaps to you, her smile widening with something like satisfaction in her eyes. The attention made you nervous. You weren't used to interacting with Yellowjackets members other than Nat, who was easy to talk to and was your lab partner as well as sharing cigarettes at parties, meaning that talking to Van Palmer was a completely new territory.

You joke back insecurely: “At least you have real coaches. Ours is the art teacher.”

That made her let out an incredulous laugh and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel pleased about it. Like almost the entire school, you also had a crush on the Yellowjackets.

Your laughter died down just as Coach Scott ran across the field to the two mixed teams with the most genuine expression of exhaustion you've ever seen. “We decided to share the space," he says. And that's all. Your first interaction with Van: a conversation that lasted less than three minutes mocking your teachers. You would never expect it to evolve into anything beyond that.

It's strange trying to do your usual routine of running through the poorly painted banners around the pitch – which looked like it had never seen better days – with a game taking place just a few meters away from you and your teammates. The fear of getting hit in the face by a ball was embarrassing.

Yet, as you wait for the relay, your gaze tracks the girls in action. You don't know the names of most of them, but recognize Taissa and Shauna fighting over the ball at one end of the field, the confrontation seems a little too intense, which makes you a bit nervous and your eyes go straight to the nearest goal, coincidentally, is the one Van is defending.

You notice how beautiful she looks with her expression completely concentrated and hands resting on the knees, waiting to act. Shauna overtakes Taissa and kicks hard the ball towards the goal; Van grabs it as soon as she crosses the white line on the lawn.

A giggle escapes you as Shauna turns around in frustration and the ball bounces back into the field and Van and Tai share a wry smile. The goalie turns her attention away from the game for a moment to look around and you swear she's looking for something – or someone.

Your teacher calls signaling your turn and you leave your thoughts while you line up with some other teammates.

You can do your relay routine for exactly fifteen minutes before something goes wrong.

You run on autopilot, so used to it that it's practically a second nature, letting your gaze return to scanning the field with interest when one of the players tries to score again and Van throws herself against the ground to catch the ball with a stronger and clearly exaggerated movement compared to last time. You thought this would be a one-time thing, seeing as the way Jackie and Nat rolled their eyes at her from where they were off to the side blocking other girls, but it kept happening the entire time you spent running until it was time for your break.

You choke on the water you drink when you realize that Van is the one staring at you this time, hands resting on her thighs, face sweaty and red, as if she doesn't have a game to focus on.

Shit, you think. How are you going to keep your head in training now? You wonder what you would have done to get a Yellowjacket's attention so suddenly as you return to your line.

You resume your run at a pretty good pace despite the sudden nervousness, feeling a little more confident when you hear a loud “Come on guys, no one has beaten L/N’s time yet!” coming from your teacher.

And then you're approaching the curve flush with the football field, the curve that gives you the perfect view of the goal.

Van is there, of course, just throwing the ball downfield again. Van, who rests her hands on her hips and catches her breath when Coach Scott blows the whistle and tells that her team won the game. Van, who turns around just in time and sees you approaching. Van, who removes a strand of red hair from her face that has escaped the ponytail and gives you a malicious toothy smile. Van, who winks at you. Van, who makes you fall. Literally.

It's all so out of nowhere, so suddenly that your heart misses a beat and you miss a step, tripping over your own feet as if your legs forgot how to work properly, falling in the middle of the curve and getting in the way of your colleagues further back in the lanes next to your side

Shit. Holyshit. Fuck. You just fell in front of the entire football team.

One of your friends bends down next to you to help and asks what happened, you blame the laces of your sneakers that untied when you fell because any reason is less embarrassing than what actually happened.

Your knee is bleeding and one of your arms is scraped, so the coach decides to have pity and leave you on the bench until it's time to leave. You make your way there with your ears burning and your head down.

If Van had any kind of interest in you, it definitely disappeared after that.

You remain alone on the bench, avoiding looking anywhere for a long time until Misty Quigley appears at your side with things to bandage your wound and you happily let her fill the silence with whatever she wants to say for the next few minutes.

Your night is spent tossing and turning in bed over the shame you've experienced and the next day as you walk through the hallways, the possibility of the goalie talking to you again doesn't even cross your mind as the first classes go by like a blur.

And then you're at your lunch table waiting for Nat to show up to talk like she usually does when she doesn't disappear around school, but after a few minutes a head of red hair takes over your vision instead of the usual dyed blonde.

“What’s up?” Van is sitting next to you, with the same crooked smile and her cheek propped up in a fist.

“Uh, nothing much really.” You have no idea what is going on; she is sitting with you, smiling at you and talking to you. Why is she doing this? You can feel a few other people's eyes on you through the interaction.

She introduces herself, even though you already know who she is, holding out a hand for you to shake – they’re rough, you notice, with calluses adorning the fingers –, probably just so you can introduce yourself too. “I’m Van,” she says. And that’s it.

She’s been Van since the beginning. Not Vanessa Palmer or the Yellowjackets goalkeeper, just Van. She says it so matter-of-factly that it would simply sound wrong to call her anything else.

You engage in a conversation about anything and everything after you introduce yourself – just your nickname too. You assume Nat already told her your name at some point yesterday – speaking as if you already knew each other, and somehow it doesn't feel weird.

Your eyes end up focusing on a black-haired girl crying at a table on the other side of the cafeteria with another girl a little smaller than her. You don't know either of them, but you know that they are both on the main team too.

“Hey,” you point with your chin: “What’s up with her?”

Van finds the source of your attention and raises her eyebrows, “Oh, you mean Mari?”

You answer with a simple nod of your head and that's enough for Van to invade your personal space with a devilish expression and a mischievous smile.

“She had a bad break up.” Van says and you tilt your head at her.

“But was it that bad?” You arch an eyebrow, “People don’t cry in such full places over nothing.”

Van moves a little closer to you and lowers her voice conspiratorially, as if she’s telling you a very important secret: “She were dumped," and then a dramatic pause, “For the guy’s half-sister.”

"What?" Your jaw drops completely and Van nods her head.

“Lottie told me, she knows about these things.” Ahe rests her face in her hand again, “She said she caught them kissing at her last party, Mari must have known.”

“‘The fuck?” The shocked look you give her only seems to amuse her.

“Oh, she's crying right now but boy, she was mad as hell in our math class today.” Van blows an exaggerated raspberry, “I bet she'll end up coming up with an absurd plan to get revenge and burn down his house just like in She Devil if the story spread.”

It will definitely spread, you thought.

An unexpected giggle escaped your chest – you might have felt a little bad for talking shit about a girl you didn't even know later, but not now – and your gaze found Van's face again.

“Yeah.” You start, “Except she was replaced by the guy’s own sister– half-sister, whatever, instead of a famous writer.”

Her face lights up completely as she speaks, bright green eyes like those of an excited puppy.

“You like that movie?” She asks.

“I love that movie,” you correct, “It’s iconic and Meryl Streep looks good.”

"She does.”

This seems to completely cement Van's interest in you, because she continues to sit with you at lunch for the rest of the week. When Nat finally shows up, she arches an eyebrow, but doesn't question it.

You and Van get closer in a surprisingly short period of time, but the way she seems to settle into your life is gradual and your silly little crush on the goalie seems to get stronger without even realizing it. Waiting for your lunches in the cafeteria, conversations in the hallways, glances exchanged during physics class – since you sat too far away to really talk – and the exchange of silly words about movies you like.

You have the habit of going out for a run every weekend in the morning – it's not easy to keep the best time in the routines, after all – and one day you decide to change your route by pure coincidence to a longer one that ends up near one of the trailer parks in the city; the fact that Nat mentioned one day that she’s neighbors with a certain teammate has nothing to do with it.

It surprises you that Van is awake at 8 am on a Saturday, but you find her – by pure coincidence, nothing more than that – outside a sad trailer watering an even sadder small garden. When she sees you, your hair is a mess and breathing is a little out of step, and you give her an awkward wave as you catch your breath. It's the first time you've seen each other outside of school.

“You’re stalking me now, weirdo?” Her crooked smile tells you that there's no real bite behind it.

"No," You place your hands on your hips, kicking some loose pebbles on the floor with your sneakers. Yes, you liar, “I always run around here, how come we’ve never seen each other before?”

Fuck it, you think. If Van can just show up for you because she wants to, then you can do the same.

She seems happy to abandon her garden chores when you ask her to go for a walk and she agrees to make you company once there’s no running involved; a walk, because no one deserves to be running around like Rocky Balboa at this time of the morning.

You walk together side by side through the neighborhood with your shoulders brushing against each other as if you've done this many times before, Van whistling a random tune carelessly.

Talking to her when the initial nervousness passes is one of the easiest things you've ever done and you find yourself enjoying and listening to everything Van tells you. This potential friendship – maybe more. Maybe, just maybe – it's the most fun thing that's happened in your year so far.

Your walks together also become a habit after that. You just come back the next day and Van is there with a smile on her face, so you keep coming back and she keeps smiling.

You also start walking home after school. Neither of you have a car, so why not?

You crave her company and she craves yours, you stay for Van's training and she stays for yours – no one else on the teams has the energy to complain about exaggerated movements or stumbles on tracks – and then when you're ready, you head off to your ways together and it makes your heart warm every time.

Everything about Van just makes you want to know her even more; the way she gestures with her arms and declares with the utmost disgust how she keeps distance from any musical that isn’t animated – “But you only watched Cats!” “And that was enough!” –, they way she tells you about how she and Taissa are watching Sabrina the Teenage Witch every Friday, or how she makes fun of any weird thing Misty said during practice that week.

You listen and absorb everything with an stupid drunk smile on your face, letting her entwine your arms and chatter to her heart's content.

Keep talking, you want to say. I love your voice, seeing you happy makes me happy. Keep talking, keep talking, keep talking.

You invite her to your house for the first time under the pretext of studying, after she throws herself on the chair next to you with a tearful expression during physics class.

“I’m gonna fail,” she whines, banging her head dramatically against the open notebook on the table, “The teacher hates me.”

You start teasingly: “Maybe he would hate you a little less if you actually paid attention in his class.”

"I do!" Van protests. “It’s personal, he must think I’m strange or somethin’ and lower my grades for it.” She crosses her arms with a pout and a roll of eyes.

“Of course." You agree with an exaggerated nod, “And you, yourself, are strange and unusual.”

“Yes!” She exclaims, ignoring the looks she attracts, “But that’s not the point, don’t quote Beetlejuice to me now, woman, this is serious.”

“Oh, wow, okay then.” You shrug.

Van looks at you before resting her head on the table again. She seems so hopeless that you give in.

“Hey, c’mon,” you say, letting your hand rest on her hair and stroke it gently: “You can come to my house today. I’ll help you study for the next test.”

Van's shoulders tense suddenly and her head snaps up so fast it makes you jump back.

"Really?" Her eyes are wide, face as red as her hair: “I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

That's strange. Van is usually the one who makes you nervous, not the other way around.

“You won’t bother me at all,” you reply without giving it much thought, “There won’t be anyone at home anyway.”

And then there's silence, Van's face turns impossibly redder and after a second of confusion, you understand.

You just invited Van to your house. Alone. There is an innuendo there. Several possibilities that neither of you will mention, but that you both know are there.

Your face starts to heat up, so you clear your throat and stutter a confused “Are you coming then?”, because you can't let her realize what you just thought about.

Van responds with a squeaky “Okay, sure." and hurries back to her usual seat when class finally begins.

When you adjust yourself in the chair and think about finally releasing the breath you didn't realize you were holding, your gaze finds Lottie Matthews staring at you three seats away with her eyebrows raised. Shit.

Lottie says nothing, just wrinkles her nose contemplatively and faces forward, but she knows. She always knows. You feel your hands sweat and shake with nervousness at the prospect of becoming the new school gossip like Mari last month. The queer who fell too hard for a Yellowjacket only to get it wrong and ruin everything.

You shake your head. No, Lottie wouldn't do that. You weren't exactly friends, but she’s not mean, there was no reason for her to mess with you, your thoughts were just talking too loud. Plus, it's not like she actually saw anything. You didn't do anything forbidden. Friends go to each other's houses all the time. Your crush is not obvious.

That's stupid, you think, it doesn't matter. But you don't really believe it. Yes, it matters, at least in this little town at the end of the world.

You just hope you don't end up crying in the cafeteria too.

There is no training that day, so as soon as classes are over, you leave school together and make your way home. For the first time, the silence is awkward and makes you feel bad for making the invitation the wrong way. Maybe Van just doesn't swing that way and you made her uncomfortable somehow. It's a possibility; you're not exactly in the closet to the rest of the school.

Still, the way her hand brushes against yours gives you hope that this isn't the case.

When Van enters your house, the first thing she does is look around.

“Wow,” she begins. “Its really…”

“Small?” You complete, feeling somewhat conscious. Your house wasn't a trailer, but it wasn't anything compared to the houses of Van's cool friends. Definitely nothing like Lottie or Jackie.

“Empty.” She corrects.

Huh. It's true, your house was praticly always empty, not only because your parents spent as much time as they could out of it, pretending they didn't have a kid to still take care of, but also because of the lack of furniture and personality. It didn't seem like a cozy place to a family live. As a whole, it could be really lonely most of the time. Van seems to have noticed this with a single glance.

You choose to ignore the comment, suddenly thinking that this might end up becoming too intimate. In a vulnerable way.

When Van enters your bedroom for the first time, she gives the place the same curious look as the rest of the house, but her jaw quickly drops.

“You got a TV in your room?” She sounds completely shocked.

“Yeah.” You snort in amusement, “My uncle runs an appliance store, he fixed one that no one picked up last summer, so now it’s mine.”

Van still looks very impressed as her eyes roam the rest of the room. Your bedroom was, perhaps, the only place in the house where someone actually seemed to live. Posters and photos adorned the colorful walls and it seemed like every little thing in the room was directly a part of you, from an old stuffed animal on one of the shelves to the small pile of messy clothes on the chair next to the study table because you weren't planning on receiving no one to remember to put it away.

The tension from before seems to be dissipating and you can see from the expression on her face the exact moment Van notices your small VHS collection up ahead.

“Okay. That's it. We're only hanging out here from now.”

And that awkward moment passes completely.

In a matter of minutes you both are comfortable in your bed with books and notebooks spread around, after convincing Van to start studying with the promise that she could choose whatever movie she wanted for you to watch when you were finished.

Van seems to dedicate herself twice as much, eager to fulfill the agreement and the hours pass quickly as she understands the concepts you explain about the subject and then all you have to do is say that it's time for a break for her to jump out of bed with a smile from ear to ear and choose a movie.

She puffs out her chest holding the tape in her hands and proudly declares that you're watching Jurassic Park and you don't even think to question it when you return the smile and takes on the task of making popcorn.

Van ends up leaning against you throughout the movie, reciting all the lines from memory along with the characters close to your ear – she knows all of them – and your heart remains racing with blood rushing in your ears until she leaves.

The two of you keep hanging out at your house again and again, just like she said it would be. Sometimes you study or watch something together, but most of the time Van simply keeps you company while you do your chores around the house, following you around like a puppy while you cook or do the laundry. Your home has never been so fulled or welcoming.

You go home after classes and practice – occasionally with Nat in tow – and stay together until it's late and dark, every now and then you say that she could just sleep over as a joke, but she never accepts it. You gulps the pang of sadness and rejection each time it happens.

And you guys talk a lot. You've never been so delighted to hear someone blab about anything.

Van spends days talking about how excited she is for summer while helping you chop the things for dinner. She and Natalie always get jobs together and she’s dying to buy a car – “You’re the runner here, lady, not me.” –, an old dark green pickup truck. She shows you the leaflet with a smile so proud that you don't have the courage to admit that you thought the thing was horrible; she tells you about how she wears the clothes of her older brother who apparently left town as soon as he finished school while helping you fold the freshly washed clothes, some of her own included.

It's so domestic that you wonder why this didn't happen sooner, depriving either of you of a routine together like this for so long seemed mean.

One night you’re sleeping soundly when you are startled awake by a loud knock on your window and you turn to find a face pressed against the glass. You almost have a heart attack.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Van!”

She's standing there with a pout and big eyes, pointing at the lock and you consider leaving her outside for the fright she got you. One look at the alarm clock on the table next to the bed tells you that it's already past 2:00 am.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice rasp and tired from sleep, letting her come in, but only because you don't want her to get a cold outside.

Van sneaks into the room, suddenly shy, playing with the hem of the oversized t-shirt she's wearing and avoiding your eyes. She gives you an awkward smile.

“I was just wondering if we could have that sleepover today?”

She looks upset. Something happend. Something that upset her enough that she decided to run to your home in the middle of the night.

“Van,” your expression softened, worry flooding your voice, “Are you okay?”

“Yep.” She clicked her tongue, still not looking at you in the eye.

Okay, you won't get anything out of it then. Van likes to talk, but not when it comes to problems like this. Problems at home.

The thing is that you and Van have a lot in common, like your dubious sense of humor and your love for movies, but are opposites in many others; the main one: where your house is always empty, hers is always full. Full of people who take away the smile that you always try hard to keep on her face.

“Okay." You sigh, taking her hand and making your way to the messed bed, “Let’s get some sleep then.”

“Oh.” She looks even more embarrassed, her sweaty hand in yours, “I can take the couch or the floor. I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m sorry.”

You let out an outraged huff. “You run to my house, climb in through my window, ask me to have a sleepover and now you want to sleep on the floor?”

She drags her feet on the floor, “...Yeah?”

You choose to ignore her answer, practically dragging her over to the bed and making her lie down. When she does, Van moves to the other side of the mattress, clearly trying her best not to disturb you, but in a fit of courage and exhaustion, you wrap an arm around her and press her against your chest. She lets out a squeak of surprise at the action.

“Go to sleep, Van.” You mumble against the back of her neck, burying your face in her thick hair.

Her body is still tense against yours, but Van allows one hand to rest on the arm you keep around her waist.

You lose count of how long you spend lying awake in silence cohabiting in each other's space, but when you wake up in the morning, Van is still asleep, her hand never leaving your arm.

You guys don't talk about it and you never find out what really happened to make her feel so bad that day, but Van shows up more often to stay the night. She never tells you when she's coming and you get scared every time when you hear the knocking on the window – you swear she does it on purpose, that little smartass.

You realize that you really love her, not just as a silly high school crush, in the middle of a hot May. When Van makes you stand in the line at the cinema ticket office for two and a half hours and miss the day of school to get tickets to watch Jurassic Park - The Lost World. Because if you saw the first one together then you should see the second one too, obviously.

You're sure you wouldn't put yourself through this for anyone else – but don't let Natalie know that.

The whole situation feels a lot like a date and you try to ignore the anxiety that washes over you as you rummage through your closet for an outfit that you think is good enough for the night. The way Van's jaw drops when she looks at you when she meets you at the front door makes the effort completely worth it.

She spends the entire movie almost bouncing in her seat with excitement and swearing at the parts that don't make sense. Because apparently the movie is also really bad, even though she's so happy watching it, and you manage to be bold enough to hide your face on her shoulder during the “scary” parts and leave your head resting there until the end.

You're not proud at all to say you spent seven bucks on a squeezy dinosaur for her on the way back, but it's your senior year, damn it, let the girl have fun with her silly toy before college.

You go back home – ‘home’ you think now, not ‘your house’. Your home. Your home with Van. – with her ranting about special effects and scenes you don't remember because you spent more time looking at her than the screen and you end up on the balcony before you know it.

“That was so good.” Van is just inches away from you, looking at you with bright eyes full of happiness; your hands are sweaty, so you put them in your pockets so she doesn't notice.

“Yeah, it really was.” You return with a playful smile, “Even though you convinced me to spend hours under the sun for it.”

“Hey!” She protests, moving impossibly closer, “What would the experience be worth without a little effort, huh?”

“Sure.” You giggle.

She's so pretty, you think. Hair down and a black jacket draped over her shoulders, looking at you as if she actually saw you. Knows you. I want to kiss her.

“You had fun today?” Van asks, unable to avoid the small tone of doubt that escapes her voice.

I want you to kiss me, you think.

“Yes,” you answer instead, “Yes, I did.”

One night Van simply comes in through your window and you don't even react anymore, leaning into her body under the covers.

“You gotta stop coming in through my window,” you grumble.

“Then stop leaving it open,” she huffs, “Someone might break in, you know that?”

You can feel her smile against your neck and you're about to fall asleep again when you hear her voice whispering:

“You’re gonna go to my games, now that we actually have a chance to go to the nationals, right?”

“Of course,” you mumble with a comforting pat of her hand on your stomach, “I’ll be the first one in the stands cheering you on. You’ll be embarrassed of me.”

Van buries her face in your shoulder, “Good.”

You get sick the exact same week that her last game until the nationals happens, lamenting the stupid flu that left you feverish and stuck at home for days.

You can't go to school and Van can't come to see you because Coach Martinez has increased the training routine as the team advances in the championship. You assume it must be really tiring because Van doesn't show up at night either. It's embarrassing the way you can't sleep properly without her.

The worst of all: you lose Van's game.

You resign yourself to spending the afternoon on the couch brooding in remorse until you hear a knock on the door.

Coming across Van's sad face with her clearly trying not to cry was not what you expected when you opened the door, knowing for sure that you would only be greeted later – probably after a victory party – with excited screams and bright little dog eyes asking for help to pack her bags.

"We lost." She says, eyes glued on the carpet.

“Oh." You say stupidly, “Oh, dear.”

Your voice seems to turn a switch inside her, because Van lifts her head to you with her lips trembling and the next moment you two are on the couch with her practically sprawled on your lap and crying. Crying hard. You've never seen her like this before.

You hear something about Jackie hitting the post at the last moment as she sobs, but what seems to make her really upset are the balls she couldn't save during the game. Like it would’ve make difference.

Comforting was never really your strong suit, you can't say you're really upset that the Yellowjackets lost, the idea of having Van so far away from you even for a few days didn't please you at all. A bad feeling in your chest told you that something could go wrong.

“Well,” you run your fingers up and down her back, “You know one good thing about this? We can go to Homecoming now.”

Her breathing hitches, but if Van notices how you say 'we' instead of 'you' she doesn't say anything.

She's on your lap, nose close to yours, eyes swollen with tears but with the same look from that night at the movies, the one that makes your hands sweat and leaves your heart weak.

Unlike the movies, however, she kisses you. Like, she actually moves forward and kisses you.

Her lips are wet and soft against yours and you tilt your head to pursue them only for her to pull away with a panicked expression.

"I'm sorry!" Van exclaims, scooting toward the door as if her skin had burned: “I’m sorry! I– I shouldn’t– I’ll see you at school.”

And then she leaves. You don't even have time to react, she runs out the door and gets into that horrible pickup truck – which she had parked in the driveway for the first time less than two weeks ago, wanting to take you for a ride to celebrate the purchase – and you're left standing in the doorway like an idiot after the car disappears from your vision, as if you were waiting for her to come back – you were.

You don't see her at school for the rest of the week. She doesn't show up in class or practice and she certainly doesn't show up at your house, Van is avoiding you and it's so obvious that you feel like crying the entire time you're there, trying to catch a glimpse of her through the halls.

Fuck. You knew this would happen, that you would screw up and make the person you care about the most hate you.

You huff in frustration, letting your head fall against the table feeling someone's gaze on you, someone who isn't Van.

Lottie Matthews isn't skipping physics class, she has no reason to be, so you shouldn't have freaked out as much as you did when you looked up and saw her towering over you next to your desk.

“Shit–” You gasp, jumping back in your seat and almost hitting her chin.

Lottie tilts her head, completely unfazed, with a look of false innocence and curiosity on her face. The look of someone in search of an information.

The vision of Mari crying at the beginning of the year comes back to your mind and a shiver with a line of sweat runs down your spine. Oh no.

“Did you guys break up?” She asks and it's the last thing you expected.

“What?”

Lottie sits next to you, smoothing her skirt over her legs, completely at ease.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she starts with an anxious air, “But please do 'cause I really want to know.”

"Know what?" God, your head is already hurting from this conversation.

Lottie seems to realize that your confusion is genuine, because she stops and frowns at you.

“Didn’t you and Van break up? I thought you were together.”

What the fuck?

"...No? We’re not?”

“Are you asking me?” Lottie arches an eyebrow, also confused.

"No." You clear your throat and roll your tense shoulders, “We’re not.”

“Oh,” she doesn’t seem to know what to say after that, strangely disappointed – just like you.

The period passes with the two of you in an awkward, resigned silence and as you're leaving, Lottie follows you down the halls, attracting glances as you pass by, which was the last thing you wanted at the moment.

“What now?” You sigh.

“I think you should talk to her and sort things out.” Lottie says, “She seems so sad lately, without her usual sparkle.”

You could understand where Lottie was coming from, seeing Van upset was truly heartbreaking, but you couldn't help the bitter pang in your chest. She ran away after the kiss, not you. The kiss she gave you.

“She’s hiding from me." You admit begrudgingly, “Where else could I talk to her, anyway?”

“In the Homecoming, of course!” Lottie nods at you sagely, as if couldn't be more obvious.

“Of course.” You agree, because, the hell, why not?

The Homecoming is on the weekend, the same weekend the team was supposed to be away for the nationals, which must be why the girls are there, to try and lift their spirits.

You recognize Jackie talking excited to Taissa about something near the tables at the back of the gym, next to a grumpy Shauna with a glass of punch in a hand and the other placed on her waist – in a definitely more then friendly way –, but no sign of of Van in sight.

You end up outside with Natalie, smoking against a wall, as always happen at every party you're at together. She's telling you about how she saw Jeff and Randy with a bottle of liquor before coming in and that they would probably baptize the punch, you both talked about ratting them out to one of the teachers in charge after sneaking a few cups and you probably would’ve done that if Lottie hadn't joined you – coming from who knows where – to ask for a cigarette too.

Nat joked about how it probably wasn't like the expensive brands she seemed to prefer at her parties, but she handed one over without a hitch and the three of you sat there, looking up at the dark and starry sky for a moment.

“You haven’t seen her yet?” Lottie breaks the silence, casually breathing in the smoke.

Nat looks at you sideways and all you do is shrug, not wanting to admit the defeat.

“You should try it near the stands.” She declares.

“What are you, a psychic or something?” You scoff, but go anyway because like Van said, Lottie knows about these things.

She is there. Of course she is. Sitting in the stands staring out at the empty field, wearing a light blue suit with a white shirt and a matching shiny tie that you have no idea where she could have gotten, because there's no way her mom would have let her buy it.

Van notices you approaching by the sound of your footsteps on the ground, her head turning to watch you and for a moment you're afraid she'll run away again.

She doesn't, so you approach, trying your best not to run towards her.

“I gotta quit smoking soon,” you say, stepping on the cigarette your hand was holding and making an overly dramatic effort to sit next to her with heavy breaths, “Or I’ll end up being kicked of track ‘till year is finished.”

Van snorts, “Right, Ponyboy Curtis.”

For a moment it's like anything hasn’t changed between you both, you bet that if you tried with conviction you could almost pretend that nothing had happened. Almost.

“You ran away from me." You say.

“I did.” Van lowers her head, quietly. Embarrassed. You’re not sure of what exacly.

"Why?" You ask, because that's the question that's been running through your mind for days.

“I–” Van looks away from you, “I thought you wouldn't want that.”

“And I thought you knew how much I wanted it." You say and Van lifts her head to stare at you with wide, hopefully eyes, “What do you want, Van?”

Her jaw drops and she looks like she was expecting everything but that, her hands twitch on her thighs, as if she wants to reach you.

“You look so beautiful right now." She sighs softly before steadying her voice, “You look so beautiful that I want to kiss you again.”

"Do it."

And she does, hard and desperate, crushing her nose against yours, as if she's hungry and can't get enough; you wrap your arms around her, hands touching her with the same need.

The lack of air is too much, so Van pulls away from you to immediately start distributing quick kisses down your neck, as if it could all disappear in a second, becoming confident when you tilt your head to grant her more access and only stopping after the hiss that you let go because she bites.

“So…” she laughs nervously, “What now?”

"Now?" You’re out of breath, “Well, can we go back inside and help Nat steal liquour to screw with Jeff and Randy or…”

"Or?" Van arches an eyebrow in amusement.

“We can go home and I can show you how much I missed you.” You shrug, casually tightening your hands on her waist.

“Hm,” she pretends to think about it, “I guess I like the first option better.”

Van laughs at the sound of your offended squeal and avoids the slap you try to give her shoulder.

“Careful, baby,” she intertwines your hand with hers, “I’m gonna start to think that you love me.”

“Oh, you better know that.”

You pull her by her stupid shiny tie and kiss her when she laughs again and let Van guide you to that hideous truck staggering laughing through the crowd of students.

Yeah, you think. I wouldn't have it any other way.

[way-2-haught]

in an empty theater

adult!Van x fem!reader

the night you decide to try out a new cinema, you have a run-in with the owner which leads to something more than just talking about films - the second time you see her, things take a turn: she finds a way to mix work and pleasure with you

authors note: hi! I liked the idea of giving her a different but similar job to the one she actually has in the show, so this came of that :) it´s a bit of a slow-burn but definitely turns intense eventually! its a bit longer (around 10k) bc I wanted to make it a fleshed out story, so yeah, hope you enjoy <3

warnings: smut (reader receiving), sort of public sex

sometimes, the simplest decision have the most long-lasting, unexpectedly beautiful effects, which was the case for you when you decided to take the longer way home one night.

in the coming weeks and months, you´d come to look back at it and thank your younger self for the spontaneity there, because otherwise you might have never ended up getting together with Van. 

after a long exhausting day, you´d dreaded the idea of passing by all the familiar places on your way home yet again, so you decided to take a different route and came by a place which you´d never heard of before, even though you´d been living in your college town for over a year by then: a cinema.

it was well-hidden amongst other houses in a street that you usually had no reason to walk down, but just from a quick glance inside, you could tell it was different than the big commercial cinemas that you were familiar with. it had a living room vibe, the light was cozy, not just yellow but pink and red and orange too, you could hear people laughing from outside, the place seemed inviting, so you memorized the name and looked it up once you were back home. 

to your delight, the cinema prided itself on showing not just new releases, but re-runs of older films, all kinds of genres, both from a few years ago and dating back to the first half of the 1900s. you spotted a film that you´d always told yourself you should watch, a cult classic from the 90s, which they were showing during the weekend, so you got a ticket and decided to check the place out, to enjoy a quiet night by yourself, after feeling like you were reliving the same day over and over in the middle of a semester than seemed to drag on without an end in sight. 

come Saturday night, you made your way there and lingered in the lobby before the film started, sussing out the vibe. the cinema was larger than it looked on the outside, the scent of popcorn lingered in the air and the faint murmur of the people around you allowed you to just sit there for a while and relax, the setting sun casting golden light through the tall windows near the entrance. the interior design was very clearly a labor of love, posters of all kinds of popular films adorning the walls, one large wall painted in a deep burgundy color that offered an almost sensual atmosphere, faint music playing over the speakers, people standing by the counter and getting drinks and snacks, a distinctly familiar feel to it, as if most of the people there were returning guests, knew each other, had a ritual of coming back each week.

the film was even better than you´d expected, you sat in a back row and the two hours flew by, a comfortable dazed feeling to you once you walked out of the theatre again and felt your eyes adjusting to the light. for some reason, you didn´t feel like leaving yet, so you stood by a table and took one of the flyers that were scattered on it, scanning their program for the coming weeks and approving of nearly all the films you were seeing, except for two, which struck you as out of place, very far from your taste. 

you weren´t aware of anyone´s eyes being on you, so you didn´t make an attempt to conceal the grimace that settled over you face as you got hung up it for a second, “you don´t approve, hm?”, you heard someone say and looked up.

a woman had silently made her way up to you and stood there smiling, gesturing at the flyer in your hand. you didn´t respond immediately because when you met her eyes you were struck by her appearance: she was about twice your age, more or less, her bright ginger hair falling down over a white shirt that was tucked into cut off jeans shorts, her face and arms both freckles and bronzed from the spring sun she´d been getting, her lips shining as if she´d just applied a balm to them, her eyes bright and open. 

you composed yourself a little as she cocked her head and waited for an answer. “no, no I do, most of these are great picks really, but there are just one or two that strike me as odd, film bro stuff, not exactly what I´d put with the others” . 

you wondered why she was talking to you, if this was her attempt at flirting, but she didn´t seem like she was just trying to hit on you, not really, not yet at least. “ah I see” she said, her tone lower then, “well, this is your chance to tell the owner what you´d like to see instead” a smug grin to her then, which confused you at first, but then it dawned on you: she was in fact the owner of the place. she wasn´t joking. you felt a flush of embarrassment rush to your face and shook your head “oh god sorry, I didn´t-” but to your relief she clearly wasn´t offended at all, quite the opposite, she seemed amused, a quiet laugh escaping her before she stepped a little closer “dont´worry, I´m messing with you, I leave the program to my younger employees, so it´s them who might be pressed about that, not me. I´m pretty out of touch with what people wanna see, if we showed my favorites it would be bad for business, so yeah”. 

you watched her, charmed by her energy and gave an understanding nod, “I see, well they´re doing a good job, I´d say. mostly” you added the last word with a smile, which she returned “mostly, yes” her eyes not leaving yours, not even for a split second, an almost unnerving quality to her unwavering attention, one that wasn´t unwelcomed by you, just unexpected, your heart beating faster than it did before she´d appeared. 

“besides-” she added, “I like when people come here and have strong opinions, even if they´re hating on something, much better than if they don´t pay attention and just let it wash over them, forget about it immediately”. as she spoke, you started to smell her perfume, a mix of woody and musky notes with something fresh and spicy in there too that briefly delayed your answer, once again, your gaze drawn to where she was pushing her hair back out of her face, perhaps to show off he arms, her hands, before you nodded and answered “right, watching something just to log it on Letterboxd”.

the last word seemed to have an instant effect on her because the second it hit her ears, she groaned and closed her eyes, as if she was in pain. “oh my fucking god, don´t even get me started… they´ve been trying to convince me to get on that damn app for ages, but I refuse, I hate the whole rating system, it´s rotting people´s brains, truly”. 

her sudden passionate outburst was cute you, it suited her, drew you in, gave you a clue about her personality: old school, someone who probably hated all kinds of social media, so you messed with her a bit and said “really? you´re not on there arguing with people in the comments? no?”. she feigned exasperation “wow is that the vibe I give off??” her eyebrows raised, her arms crossed. you enjoyed the sight for a few seconds before you shrugged and said “maybe”. she clutched her heart and sighed “ouch”, a moment of shared silence then, both of you trying your best not to check the other one out too obviously, restraint necessary in order for you not to stare at her exposed legs, her knees, to not follow the desire to see if they were as freckled as her arms, her face, her nose. 

“but uh-” she said, quieter then, stepping even closer, as if she was trying to conspire with you, “which film would you show instead? tell me” “oh and while you’re at it, tell me your name as well, I’m Van”. by that point, you were pretty sure that she was actually showing interest, and not just attempting to gain a new regular guest, which thrilled you but also made you feel weak, at risk of seeming flustered, the sudden, out of nowhere pursuit by someone who was actually your type, more than anyone who´d ever tried to hit on you in public. so, you thought about it for a second, licked your lips, half on purpose, role her your name and mused “well, that´s tough, I mean out of all films to pick a few.. I have my favorites of course, I could selfishly say those”

“I´m listening” Van interrupted, clearly eager to see where your taste leaned towards, so you you named a few that came to mind, and seemed to pass a test as she gave brief approvals like “love that one” or “underrated, yeah” to a few of the films that you loved. you were trying to keep her with you for longer, so you went on and shared some ideas you had for which films would work well together thematically if they were shown during the same month, how one might advertise it to the audience, some ideas you´d had before. Van was listening intently with her arms crossed, her eyes sparkling, until you cut yourself off to not venture in rambling territory, even though she definitely wouldn´t have minded. 

“damn, you´ve really thought about this stuff, huh?” she praised, nodding in a way that said “I like this”. “you looking for a job by chance?” she joked, “no, afraid not, but I´ll gladly talk about it for free”. she seemed to get the underlying message there “I wanna talk to you again” but didn´t acknowledge it directly, instead giving you a knowing look and saying “very generous” with a low, almost sensual tone, that made warmth that spread through you at the sound. barely a few inches were separating you and her, a subtle move of your arm might have made your hands brush, so you kept your body at an angle where an accidental touch might happen as you glanced around and used to chance to compliment her, genuinely, “this is a nice place by the way, you did well here, I´m lingering because it´s a much better vibe than back home, my roommates are pissing me off” you told her, a sigh towards the end of the sentence that seemed to endear her, she kept eyeing you and made a sympathetic “hmm” sound. 

“well I´m glad then, I do like to think we´re a kind of safe haven, a refuge of some sort, ideally” she sounded more earnest then, “you are” you insisted and saw a hint of shyness flicker through the tough facade, which only made you find her more intriguing and it struck you in that moment that it was pretty flattering, to be approached by the owner of the place like that and to have her standing with you as other guests left the theatre while she didn´t seem to be in a rush to leave, at all, even though it was late and it seemed like they´d be closing soon.  

just as you were thinking this, two workers behind the counter who was clearly facing some kind of issue with register called out her name, which made her whip her head and yell “I´ll be right there, just a sec”, as you stood there, shifting your weight from one leg on the other, only then realizing that you´d frozen in the attempt not to fidget or show any sign of awkwardness.

Van sighed and turned back to face you again, “well, my kids need me, sorry to cut you off like this, but don´t feel rushed to leave, stay as long as you want, we´re not closing til 10, and maybe I´ll see you again soon, yeah?” she seemed hopeful, almost as if she was pleading, so you gave her reassurance “yeah for sure, I´ll be back”, “on a night where it´s not a “film bro” one, I assume?” she teased, echoing your earlier words as she turned to leave. “yes exactly” you said and returned her wave goodbye. before you left the room, you glanced over at her one last time as she joined her stressed out workers to help and the way she´d called them her “kids, people who were your age, even though she´d clearly been flirting with you, admittedly a turn-on, in a strange but intense way, the age difference 

the sight of her flame colored hair falling down the the pale fabric of her shirt got burned into your mind as you left the cinema and made your way back home, wondering what she´d have said if you hadn´t been interrupted, how bold she would have been, if she´d asked for you number, so you promised yourself to get over any nerves or hesitation you might feel and to return to her place of work as soon as possible, waiting a few days though, to not seem overly eager for a second meeting, even though you were, even though something told you she might be as well. 

any of the stress you had felt during the week was eclipsed by the buzz you felt walking down the street then, the cool evening air offering contrast to how warm your body had gotten from Van´s undivided close attention, she hadn´t even touched you, and yet you felt like you already knew what it felt like, to have her hands on you, perhaps because you´d felt it, her unfulfilled desiree to reach out, to do more than just talk, look at you.

as you laid in bed that night you pressed your own palm against the small of your back, imagining that it was her, caressing your own skin in a gentle up and down motion, conjuring up the phantom of her perfume, breathing in deeply, as if she was there with you, as if you could actually smell her, feel her, a faint sigh falling from your lips before you stopped yourself from getting too lost in fantasies up to fall asleep, still, you prayed you´d dream of her, that your psyche would gift you with something that felt real, that would leave you aching to return to your subconscious upon opening your eyes the next morning. it had been ages since anyone had stirred your imagination the way she had and you had no good way of explaining why, she just got to you, immediately. 

the next few days you found yourself thinking back to it, the exchange you´d had, her deep voice, her pretty face, the mix of vibe of toughness and gentility that she gave of every time you had a quiet moment to yourself, when you sat on the train and stared out of the window, when you were cooking, standing in the shower, your mind always wandered back to her, lead you to both tender and visceral daydreams of her, so in the middle of week, late at night when you couldn´t sleep, you pulled up the website of the cinema on your phone just to see if they´d added anything interesting - you knew that the next film you were planning to see was being screened on Sunday, but still, you took a look, just out of curiosity and what you found, made you freeze up, wondering if you had lost your mind from sleeplessness and were starting to imagine things, but you weren´t, it was real, glowing brightly on your screen: they´d changed the program. one of the films that you´d hated on had been swapped out for one your favorites, one of the films that you´d mentioned to Van mere days before. 

for a brief second you tried to find a way to dismiss it as pure coincidence, you were trying to keep yourself from giving into the intense excitement that you felt bubbling up inside, but it was simply too obvious: she had gone out of her way to change things, to get rid of a film you didn´t approve of and not to replace it with just anything, but specifically a film you´d praised in front of her, probably in hopes that you´d see it, that you´d come back, that she´d get to see you again, earlier than planned. 

after staring at your screen in disbelief for a few minutes, giddy and a little shocked by her bold move, you picked a seat, bought a ticket and lost another half hour of sleep over the sheer surrealism of the situation, the idea of Van finding a way to tell her team that there was a last minute change, having to come up with a reason other than the truth: that she was trying to charm a girl. that she wasn´t doing it for the crowd, for cinephiles who might enjoy it, but specifically for you. 

the next night, you got ready as if you were getting ready for a date, even though you didn´t even know where she´d be, if she´d be there, and told yourself to be chill, to not walk into the venue looking around for her like a lost puppy, but to act the way you usually would, to keep to yourself and let your paths cross naturally, perhaps the way it did before, her quietly appearing next to you out of nowhere, since you liked it, the feeling of being in the middle of a crowd, unaware of someone´s gaze, only to feel your breath hitch when they join you, as if you´d been waiting for them all along, for her. 

you entered the cinema around fifteen minutes before the film was set to start, so you wouldn´t have to stand around awkwardly for too long in case she was busy, but to have enough time to go freshen up, get something to drink maybe, and see what would happen. your wait for a reunion was cut short when you stood by a wall near the entrance to take a look around the room and were met by a familiar smile when you glanced over to the spot where a group of people was gathered, who you took to be regulars, talking to her and a few other workers. 

she didn´t even hesitate a second before excusing herself and walking over to you, and somehow she looked even better than you remembered, she had similar cut off jeans on as before, since it was already pretty warm out for early spring, but this time she wasnt wearing a loose tshirt, she was in a thin white tanktop and an unbuttoned short sleeve flannel instead, dark green, a beautiful contrast to her hair color. you tried your best not to stare at her chest and wondered if she´d done the same thing as you: dressing a certain way on purpose, not for herself but for you. 

you took a deep shuddering breath out and told yourself to act casual as she kept smiling and took her place about an arm´s length across from you, hands in her pockets, eyeing you in a way that seemed even more intense than the first time, the glow of success enhancing her beauty.

“hey there” she said “was hoping I might see you tonight”. you grinned at that way of putting it, her not explicitly acknowledging what she´d done to lure you back there, so you were to the one to mention it first. 

“don´t tell me you did that just because of what I said” you said, even though you both knew the truth and gave each other charged glances, felt something like sparks, before she shifted her stance, caressed her own arm, put on a faux-dismissive tone “oh no, pure coincidence, nothing to do with you at all”, a tingling sensation on your skin at the sound of her teasing, the flicker of mischief in her eyes that somehow made her look like she was your age for a moment, a girl who´d get you in trouble, not a woman who could be your mother. 

you were the first to be bold and say something outside of subtext “I was kinda shocked when I saw that, I wont lie. feels a bit cheap to say thank you for something like that, but thank you, I’m flattered”. Van waved it off but couldn´t hide the touch of bashfulness that softened her demeanor, “oh well, you made good points and I felt like shaking things up a bit, so, used my authority there for once. and you´re welcome” she drew the last two words out, barely above a whisper, your knees almost giving in at the sound, which visibly pleased her, so she didn´t break eye-contact, watched you fold a little, enjoyed it. “and besides -” she continued, gesturing around at the groups of people that were filling up the room, “seems like I´m benefitting from your input, so”, you nodded and imitated her tone from early when you gave her a quiet but earnest “my pleasure” in response. 

both of you wanted to say more but neither of you wanted to ruin the thrill of suspense by straight up asking “should we go on a date sometime?” at least not yet, so Van found a different strategy, she touched your arm, a feathery barely-there brush of her fingertips that raised your body temperature  instantly as she said “you know what let me repay you actually, we have this strawberry lemonade that´s pretty fucking good, and you should drink something, it´s warm in here, wait a second” before she hurried off to go behind the counter and get you something for free. the sight of her plopping open the bottle’s lid with ease pulled your focus to her hands, her fingers, a pressing need to feel them, properly.

she grabbed something else before losing no time and getting back to you, holding out the light pink drink for you.

Van didn´t avert her gaze as you took a sip, shamelessly savoring the view, pleased when you made a “hm” sound and said “yeah, that´s really good”. “here, take these too, chocolate pairs well with that I think” making you hold your hand out, but instead of just dropping the pack of sweets, she shook your hand in a way, closed her fingers around yours in a way that wasn´t necessary, which nearly made you cling to her but she withdrew her hand just before you could give yourself away. 

you smiled and tried to accept her generosity without ruining it by offering to pay, “I feel pretty spoiled you know, I might just try to move in here”. Van watched you take another sip, her gaze clearly on your lips, not your eyes, and said “we´re open from 2 to 10 most days, so feel free to come by whenever”, somehow making it sound like it wasn´t a joke, not really, so you nodded “I´ll keep it in mind, yes”.

you could smell it again then, her perfume, and tilted your head to be closer, just a little, which she seemed to clock, so she put her hair back behind her shoulder  with one swift motion, a safe way to ensure that even more of her scent would linger in the air, so you took a deep breath and wondered if you should be more forward already but she beat you to it and stepped back as she saw the doors to the theatre open, since the film was starting a few minutes, and told you “okay I´ll leave you to it now, enjoy, but stick around afterwards if you´re not in a rush”, “yeah, sure, I´ll stay” you told her, which brought back the same warm smile she´d greeted you with as she walked away and gestured for you to go ahead and join the people who were queuing to enter the theatre. 

as you settled in your seat and got comfortable, you couldn´t help but wish you were still out there, talking to her, even though you were about to see a film you truly loved on the big screen for the first time, part of you prayed that time would fly because you had no idea how your exchange with her would continue later on, where it would lead, and were dying to find out. 

to your luck, the two hours did in fact pass quickly because were pulled in and moved enough by what was unfolding to briefly forget about her, but only until the film reached its last twenty minutes and you could feel an acute sense of impatience settle over you, so once the credits rolled, you were one of the first people to abandon the room and go outside again, rubbing your eyes as they adjusted to the lights. for a moment you wondered if she´d left, since it had gotten late, but then you spotted her sitting on a sofa in a corner that was meant for relaxation, a few armchairs next to it, a coffee table with magazines in front of it.

as you approached her, you realized that this was your turn to do what she had done before: quietly observing. you paused for a second and watched her, the way were brows were furrowed in concentration as she typed something, her lips in a pout, an endearing quality to the way she sat there lost in thought. her shirt was loose enough to reveal part of her shoulder and you felt a sudden pang of need at the sight, “if I was her girl” you thought “I´d sit down next to her and pull the shirt further down to kiss her skin there”, and felt yourself grow warm again, the way you had earlier.

you tried to remain somewhat cool and opted for a tease instead of a simple “hi”, as you stood near where she was sitting, and said “scrolling on tiktok?”, which made her snap out of it and quickly lock her phone to give you her full attention, instinctively standing up up to be on eye-level with you. “yeah you got me, I´m addicted, can´t stop” she joked back. 

“so, how was it? worth your time?” she opened, genuinely interested, so for a few minutes you did actually talk about the film, the main actress, other films of hers you both liked or didn´t like, which lead to a tangent on her part about how much she despises the current re-make and re-boot culture with films, that fire again that you´d seen once before, until she changed the subject and pointed down a hallway nearby

“we actually have an even bigger theatre than the one you just saw, it´s under construction right now, but it should be open in one or two weeks I think. I could show you, if you want”. she sounded shy as she said it, almost as if she was scared of putting you off by suggesting to go into a dark empty room together, unsure if you were actually into her to a degree that made it appealing, but you killed those worries by giving a confident “yeah sure, show me” in return, so she shook her nerves off and told you to follow, a certain erotic thrill to it, the act of following her to a secluded place.

after she unlocked the door, she turned on the overhead lights and elicited an “oh, wow” from you, which seemed to please her. the room was about twice the size of the others you’d been in. “yeah, we changed the seats, painted the walls a better color, new sound system, all that” she explained as she lead you further in and watched you nod in approval, something about it seeming like a trap you had happily agreed to walk into, an eerie yet thrilling feel to it, a vast space like that with just you two in it, an intimacy to it that felt both quiet and intense.

she lead you to the back of the theatre where you saw that a bunch of the rows had what one might call love-seats, sofa type seats that could seat two or even three people, and sat down on one of them, inviting you to join her, so you did, sighing as you sunk down into the new soft material. 

both of you crossed your legs in a way that made your knees almost touch, a shared attempt at closeness, a mirror image, both of you subtly leaning towards the other person, signaling something. “you do know what people are gonna use these for, right?” you told her in a moment of boldness, bringing up the obvious, giving her a side-eye, which made her turn to face you as she pretended to be more innocent than she was and asked “what would that be?”. 

you rolled your eyes and smiled to yourself, so she dropped the act “well that´s not my business, I´m out there, not in here. also are you speaking from experience there or?” she said in a way that made your blood rush faster, her explicit inquiry about your love life, your sexuality, her unwavering gaze, once again, those piercing dark blue eyes that didn´t let a single of your expressions go unnoticed, a blessing and a curse at once, an exposure to her that was a sweet torture in that state of suspense, guessing, waiting. 

“no no, not my thing, I hate the idea of a movie date, when you don´t like a person and they keep staring at you from the side, waiting for something to happen, thats a hostage situation” you responded, pretending to be unaffected by it all, which made her laugh, genuinely, an achingly sweet sound to you.  “yeah, agree, you have a point” her voice was worn out from a full day of talking, raspy, even hotter than before. she turned her body to look at you even more directly, so you used the moment to shift your position too in a way that made your leg brush up against hers, which killed your ability to speak for a second, her skin both softer and warmer than you´d imagined, an instant pain of absence when contact was over.

“so I´m not gonna see you with someone else here anytime soon then?” she asked, clearly aware that you weren´t thinking about romance with anyone but her in that moment, “yeah, it´ll just me be” you affirmed, “but you?. surely you use stuff like this to flex a little, right?”. 

Van gave you a confused look, “flex?”, so you laughed and explained “you know, like taking a date here or something, telling them they don´t have to pay for anything, taking them after closing hours so it´s a private screening”. Van shook her head and pulled her hair all to one side, which left her neck exposed to you in a way that made it hard to show restraint, your mouth aching with an unfulfilled wish. “nope, I don´t mix work and pleasure” she answered, phrasing it that way on purpose, drawing out the word “pleasure” in a way that got to you, so you moved  closer to her and cocked your head, “never?” no?”. you sounded skeptical, so she feigned offense, “you calling me a liar?”. 

“as if you´d just let that chance pass you by” you said, searching her eyes for deceit, which made her smile in surrender “well, maybe I make exceptions here and there”. for a second you both leaned back and looked up at the ceiling, quiet for a second, sensing the rising tension but not fighting it, until you turned your head a little towards her “this is nice, almost has a sacred feeling to it, an empty theatre, like an empty church or something, all this space and silence”. Van nodded, a flicker of something like excitement at the sound of you sharing something she´d felt before as well, “yeah sometimes I just sit here for a moment when I am stressed out, it helps, even just a few minutes, clears my head”. 

you liked that image, were moved by it in a way, her escaping her life like that every now and then, “so, how´d you end up doing this?” you asked, turning your full attention to her then, watching her from the side as she stared off into the distance and thought about it, soaking up the feeling of being subtly admired, something about your gaze burning on her cheek, a fire that was slowly but surely spreading through her whole body.

“well..” she started, folding her hands in her lap, “I´ll spare you the depressing details of my earlier life but I tried a bunch of things, failed at all of them, hard, and eventually thought why not just do what I love and risk it all on something I actually give a fuck about, so I did and luckily had some help from a few lovely people, who still work with me. but yeah, don´t take me as an example, go to school, get a proper job, make some more money than me, be good.” she turned her head to finally meet your eyes again as she emphasized the last two words, “be good”, a perversity to those words “be good” that caught you off guard, a sudden shiver down your spine. you digested the info and gave a slow nod, “that´s cool, I´m glad it all worked out. and thanks for telling me not to follow my passions and dreams, great reminder, really”. 

she knew you weren´t shy with her but the blunt sarcasm did catch her off guard, so she gasped a little and shook her head while barely suppressing a laugh “hey that´s not what I fucking said!”, a gentle shove to your side that broke your walls down further, almost made you grab her arm to keep her hand over your ribs, right under your heart.

Van could tell the touch had gotten to you, she kept staring at you, her eyes soft then, her defenses not up anymore, not at all, “yeah we should never watch something together like this” she whispered, almost to herself, but you caught it. “why not?” you asked, even though you knew why, you knew from the way she was eyeing you, the way she seemed to almost be telling herself to stop, to look away, to get a grip, a battle visible in her expression that was turning more charged with need by the second, mirroring something that had crept into your own demeanor as well, a shared inability to ignore the heat pooling in your stomachs, your throats, your mouths. 

“I´d do that exact thing you hate.. staring from the side, being obnoxious. you look very pretty like this” she gestured at you vaguely, in a way that suggested she meant in that specific lighting, dim but bright enough to see the outline of your features clearly, the sparkle in your eyes, the innocence that she herself had lost a long time ago, which pulled her in like a moth to flame, eager to be burnt, absorbed by it; you could see something like guilt in her look then, on the surface it was jarringly intense affection, but you could almost hear her thoughts, “why is she here? why is this girl letting me in? who do I think I am? as if I deserve this”, so you moved your hand to her knee, felt her almost flinch, and gently rubbed your thumb up and down, your way of saying “I want this. dont be shy with me. do it.”

you waited for a second, watched her eyes widen, your lips parted, your chest like that of an animal bracing itself to lunge, to tackle, to bite, your hunger turning too pressing, the sight of it enough to make Van to lose her ability for restraint for good, her hand on your cheek, a flame where her fingers brushed your skin, a split second of her closing the distance like her life depended on it, then, her lips on yours, achingly soft and yet pressing against yours hard enough to make you submit, give up, turn docile for her, sighing in both relief and delight.

 you let her kiss you and didn´t move, so she pulled back for a second, worried you were having second thoughts, but the second she broke away, you pulled her back in and kissed her even more eagerly than she had before, your on the sides of her face, where her hair fell down, your fingers tangled in the strands you´d been fixated on since the first time you saw her, the silky sensation only adding to your desire as you started kissing properly, pushed yourself closer to her, draped your leg over hers, pushed your hips forward, almost chest to chest then, her hands on your back to pull you even closer, clinging to your shirt, unwilling to let go, a heavenly heat and wetness flooding your senses when you both turned sloppy with your kisses, touched tongues, moaned into each other´s mouths, shifted to almost grind up against each other, the heat both unbearable and divine, a neediness to everything you were doing, an erratic need taking over and leaving you unable to do much else but claw at each other and kiss again and again and again

the thing that ruined you for good, that made you feel like you were at risk of drenching your underwear entirely, was the kind of sound she couldn´t keep down past a certain point, something like a whimper, a high-pitched, desperate sound that bordered on the pathetic, you knew she wasn´t doing it on purpose, that she was too lost in you to suppress it any longer, her fragile, vulnerable side that contrasted her tough appearance, and it only pushed you to kiss her more deeply, more aggressively too, so eventually, after almost sucking on your tongue to keep it in her mouth, to feel it without pause, she pulled away, scared of her own reaction, panting, both of you breathless, clinging to each other, turned on to a worrying degree, shaking, both of you trying to calm your heart rates but failing as you stared at each other

you fixated on the blush that had spread over her freckled cheeks, that was coloring her whole face shades of pink, a girlish quality to it that made you want her even more, and she could tell, so before you could go in for the kill and kiss her face, she beat you to it, tried to gain the upper hand, at least for the time being, and tilted your head up, gently but firmly, made you face the ceiling, and started placing open-mouthed, feverish kisses on the side of your neck, breathing in your scent between kisses as she left a trail up your pulse-point, bit down lightly on a spot and soothed it with her tongue, made you come undone just from that, sweat collecting where your bare legs were connected, rubbed up against each other, a primal quality to the way she held you close, while tasting your skin, savoring it, gripping you with her free hand while the other kept you from lowering your face, held you in place, a barely audible “youre so beautiful..” reaching your ears as she left a final few kisses on your jaw, your cheek, and moved her thumb to brush over your lower lip.

she pressed it down, the tip of your tongue running over that of her finger, another of her whimpering sounds escaping her then, defeat, she was weak and she knew it, even while devouring you, weak to the bone with her overwhelming urge to both protect and render you helpless. weak. open. open to her and nothing else.

everything about her was dizzying you, making you lose all sanity, her scent, the perfume mixed with her own pheromones, sweet and carnal, her soft hair increasingly messy, fire in your vision, a whiff of her shampoo, something like pine, a green scent, her fingers, on your skin, your face, slipping under your shirt, on your waist, caressing, eliciting a sigh so intense she almost choked up watching you lean into her palm, seek more of it, half of her thigh visible, one of your hands moving under the seam of her shorts, your fingers splayed out on the tender flesh, resting, feeling, the sudden wish you could undress, fully, feel her on you, over you, in every way, the same for her as she traced your spine up, kissed you again, made you feel it even more, the growing moisture between your legs, a throbbing sensation that was about to kill you if it was left untouched, so you whined into the kiss, felt her grow bold from it, her hand over your chest then, squeezing, feeling you up, addicted to your inability to properly kiss her back, her fingers possessively digging into the swell of your breast until you couldn´t take it anymore and grabbed her wrist to guide her hand away, lower, until it rest on your stomach, right above your waistband, another rush of heat to your core just from feeling her so close to where you wanted, needed her. 

if you had been less turned on, you might have been able to be rational, to stop yourself, to wait until you were fully in private, but you couldn´t, it was a losing battle, your mind reduced to one word, ringing in your head: more. more. more.

Van briefly glanced over at the door but nobody would enter, she knew this, so she took in the sight of you all whiny and desperate for her and sighed “.. you sure?” her hand still where you were holding it down against your abdomen, her voice strained, husky, hypnotic, “yes… please.. please” you begged and looked up at her, which nearly made her choke up on her own spit, that word, her undoing, “please”, a blow to her already fading sanity, so she nodded and whispered “okay.. okay yes..” almost as if to soothe you, calm you, as she slid her hand under the material of your shorts, your underwear, your eyes shut, hers fixated on your open mouth, your lower lip, a soft, almost chaste kiss that contrasted what she was doing to you, her hand coming to a hold when she reached the desired spot, just palming you for a second, breathing heavy as she uttered “you don´t even know what you´re doing to me…”

bracing herself more than you were, as if she was the one about to be touched, sick with need, before she slipped her fingers between your folds and groaned. you immediately parted your legs wider, pleading whimpers falling from your lips as she teased you, moved her fingers up and down, achingly slow, obsessed with the heat, the slickness, the proof of what just making out had done to you, the throbbing only getting more intense, “jesus…” she sighed as she indulged in the filth of it, played with you, worked you up, ignoring your most sensitive spot until you moaned in desperation and pressed yourself up against her side, your head on her shoulder, fully at her mercy, so she sighed “oh sweetie..”

and gave you what you wanted, her fingers circling your clit then, just enough pressure to make you relax and give in, but not enough to get you off too fast, she wanted it to last at least a little while, so she watched your every reaction, listened, in awe, and picked up the pace a bit when you clung to her and whined, nodding, a barely contained “fuck…” when she did it just right, made you twist and lift your hips a bit, your leg still over hers, both of you tangled up as she worked at you, held you close with her other hand, caressed you, asking “like that, yeah?” only to hear you struggle to talk back, aware that she was doing everything right, just from the way you were drenching her fingers, the way you felt, your lips swollen, enough of your juices leaking out to give her motions a distinct sound, a sound she got so turned on by that she couldnt hold back and kept jerking you off in motions that would let her hear it, what she was doing, what you were feeling, as she leaned in and kissed the spot above your collarbone, sucked on it lightly, peppered your shoulder in kisses to stifle her moans, overwhelming you with the double feeling of her mouth and hand turning your sensitive areas raw with passion, both of you a mess by then, you trying your best not to be too loud or move too much as you felt yourself go blind with how good it felt, to have her to to you what you usually did to yourself, to be taken care of and marveled at in that most exposed state, to hear her whisper things against your skin like “you feel so fucking good…” as you were trembling and holding onto her arm -

you quickly reached a point where you could finish, she felt it, but you knew that it wouldn´t be enough, so the second you shuddered and felt yourself come undone, the next stage of desperation set in, the first orgasm leaving you so shaken up and hungry for more that you felt like you might die if she didn´t fuck you right then, the emptiness between your legs enough to make you cry in that moment, and she was right there with you, refusing to pull her hand away, touching you all throughout the high and after you came, never letting up, her fingers still dragging over you, applying light pressure, her own breathing all kinds of ragged; if it had been someone else, if you´d been less aroused, you would have been able to stop, to be rational and tell yourself you were in public, but it was impossible, there was no way, your mind reduced to a single word, ringing in your ears: more, more more.

so, you leaned up and kissed her, deeply, feeling the heat that had rushed up to her face radiating off her as she sighed and kept her hand in your underwear still, her eyes fluttering shut from your tenderness, until you pulled away and followed your instincts, telling her “I need more..” as you moved her hand away for a second and unzipped your shorts, not to take them off, you were not reckless enough to try and do something you´d have to be naked for, so she sat there confused but thrilled until you climbed over onto her, heard her sigh “oh…” as you settled on her, straddling her and guided her hand back to where it was before, lifting yourself up enough to make it clear what her job was: to let you ride her fingers. 

Van stared at you and obeyed, watched you eagerly lower yourself again and find the right angle, moaning as you felt her fingers slide in without resistance, and yet stretching you out, filling you until you sat in a way that made her be inside you knuckle deep, your hands on her shoulders to steady yourself as she helped you by curling them up a bit and held you up with her free hand, guided you as you started rocking back and forth, leaned forward and brushed your cheek up against her hair, streadied yourself and got lost in the sensation of being full of her, feeling yourself clench around her fingers as she trembled beneath you and let herself be ruined by the feeling and sight of having you use her like that, getting more from you than she´d ever dreamed of asking for that night, her lips finding your jaw when you started sounding pained from your impending release - “shhh, its okay, it’s okay, I´ve got you” she cooed at you, “just make yourself feel good and let me see, I´ve got you baby”, the baby doing nothing to help with your inability to keep your cool, so you let go of shame and fucked yourself the way you needed, slow and deep, a third finger entering your drenched cunt when she sensed your ability and want to take more, “good girl..” she whispered, something she didn´t usually call her lovers, but being older than you, something about it made her want to keep saying it, over and over, just to watch you soak up the praise, be hers, fully.

she wrapped her left arm around your back to keep you close, to support you as you were close, so close, and moaned “I can´t I´m..” unsure if you could handle it, so she assured you “you´re doing so well, just a bit more, you´ll feel so good, trust me, I´m right here” the almost maternal words fully killing you then as you dug your fingers into her shoulders and bit your lips as you tensed up and came around her fingers, at peak helplessness, unsure if you´d survive, Van pushing her own feelings of bone-crushing arousal aside, the ache between her own legs, to anchor you, caress you, her palm up and down your spine, under your shirt, her lips ghosting over your neck as you rode it out and went slack, “youre so fucking hot..” she sighed, a kiss to your shoulder, a shared sigh of relief, both of you spent as you went boneless on top of her and she moved her hand away, slowly, letting you catch your breath as she wrapped her arms around you and felt you shake from the aftershocks, warm, soft, all hers, for that moment in time, her girl, a possessiveness to the way she kept you on her, listened to your breathing slow down, felt your hands on her neck. 

eventually, you peeled yourself away and slumped down on the empty space next to her, pulled your shorts up again, and came back to your senses, after turning into an animal for a moment there, all body, no reason, no shame, a little shy in the wake of it, so she gave you a moment of silence and licked her fingers clean, drawing it out a little, clearly enjoying your taste, a faint smile when she saw you watching, lowering her hand again and looking over at you, endeared by the dazed yet pleased expression, the disheveled energy, “you good there?” she asked, visibly happy with herself for what she´d gotten out of you, or rather, given you. 

“yeah, yeah more than that…” you said quietly, sitting a bit more upright, regaining some strength, still tingling all over though, still in need, less urgently than before, but far from done with her, so you moved a bit closer to her again “if we weren´t here I´d keep going, return the favor.. get on my knees” you grinned, watching her smile disappear, replaced by a look almost close to fear, the fantasy alone enough to make her acutely aware of how fast you´d be able to destroy her, so you slipped your hand under her waistband, caressed her lower stomach, the way she had before, and sighed “you´re so soft” as she couldn´t do anything but lean back, close her eyes, and groan “and you´re killing me…”, pure neediness threating to take hold of her, so she shook her head and gently guided your hand away, laced her fingers through yours and said  “yeah no I can´t not here, as much as I want to, I´d be…” she trailed off, you could guess what she was trying to say, that she´d bee too much of a mess, too scared of being found, having one of her workers walk in on her like that, it would be one thing to be caught doing it to you, another to be caught having it done to herself. 

“we´ll continue this somewhere else, then” you stated, “yes we will” she insisted, and before either of you could say anything else you heard a noise outside that startled you, it was far away, not right outside the door, but close enough to remind you that you´d been in there for a good while and should probably sneak back out. 

“we should..” Van said, reluctant, hating the idea of parting ways, a feeling you shared, but you stood up with slightly shaky legs “yeah, let´s go”. before you could head towards the door, Van made you turn around and face her by grabbing your arm and said “here wait let me help you there”, her hands on your head then, smoothing out your hair, travelling down to your clothes to make sure they were all in place, a brief swipe over your lip to make sure there was no spit there, “perfect” she whispered and gestured for you to leave first as she held the door open “after you”. 

you walked down the hallways as slow as possible, stealing a few more moments, hearing some chatter in the distance from a few other people who apparently weren´t in a hurry to get home, Van thought out loud then “I was gonna say that I hope they didn´t catch on but this is my fucking place, so I´ll do whatever I want actually”, which amused you, so you teased her a little “not mixing work and pleasure, huh?” recalling her earlier words, so she shot you a sideway glance “not until just now, no”, “sorry” you fake-apologized, which made her grin, “oh yeah, I´m feeling deeply regretful”.

once you stepped back into the entrance area of the cinema, you realized that nobody dramatically turned their heads or seemed to care what Van had been up to, since they were too busy either cleaning up, talking to each other, being on their phones, or yawning since it was nearly 10:30 pm by that point, so she just gave a quick nod to a girl behind the counter and said “be right back” as she joined you in walking outside, relieved that she could say a proper goodbye, that she could take a few minutes and leave it off on a note that you deserved. 

the sun had disappeared by that point but it was mild outside still and the sudden gust of fresh air, being back out under the open sky, in the world, somehow made the reality of your situation come over you, so you both seemed a little flustered standing across from each other, feeling the phantom of the kisses on your lips, the echo of each other´s sounds in your ears, the grabs and squeezes on your skin, a pleasurable rawness between your legs, the wish that it wouldn´t ease, not too fast, not before you could lay in bed and imagine she was there, tending to it, to you, the way she had before, would again.

“so” she said, looking at you then, “so” you repeated, smiling at her, an inflection to your response that put her at ease, the awareness that you shared a certain dry humor, understood each other without being too explicit about it, using glances to say what you wouldn´t say out loud, not yet, not that early. still, you had softened her, she felt open, could breathe more easily than before, so she was clear about it then “it´s really fucking killing me that I can´t just leave with you right now, so: when can I see you again. please.” you, like her, enjoyed hearing her plead, so you returned the bold energy and didn´t play it cool “as soon as you´re free”, meaning it, even if she suggested a time where you were busy, you´d skip it for her, without a second thought, and it worked, she was charmed, her stance a little taller then, her hair blowing in the wind, a glow to her that was your doing. 

“alright, tomorrow evening then. we could get a drink if you want” you stepped a bit closer to her then, looked around, as if you were lost in thought, before giving a counter-offer “or..” you started, eyeing her from up-close then, twisting the end of a strand of her hair around your index finger before letting it go again, her breath briefly hitching, “you could make me that drink at your place” your tone giving away what you were actually saying:

I am done waiting for privacy, I don´t wanna meet in public again, so she laughed, surprised by your forwardness, turned on by it, “alright yeah that´s better, I was just trying to be polite” she told you with a subtle grin. “no need for that” you joked, “perfect. and not to brag but I live on the top floor and I have a pretty great view, my terrace is great this time of year” she mused, shifting her weight, hands in her pockets then.

“careful, I might try to stay over”, you fake-warned her, so she nodded slowly, her voice lower again, that smooth sound that had gotten to you from the moment you´d met, “I can cope”, teasing, obviously the opposite of averted to the idea of having you to herself for more than just a few hours, letting you enjoy the rooms she so often felt alone in, giddy at the idea of you draping yourself over her couch or lounging on her bed. 

“you know, I was kinda scared I was being creepy with how I was trying to get your attention, been a while since I´ve..” she didn´t need to spell it out and it was sweet to you, her admitting that she was not a player at all, that she´d hoped for the best while doubting her methods. you knew her well enough by that point to know she wasn´t the type to want you to say something like “oh no, it was cute”, so instead you said “well maybe it was creepy and I was just way too into you to see it”. 

Van laughed then, a genuine heartfelt laugh, a playful nudge to your shoulder “right. I´ll just enjoy this until you come to your senses then”, you smiled and stood face to face with her then, “might take a while” you uttered while wondering if you could reach out and touch her, pull her closer, or if it was too much, out in the open like that. “god willing yeah” Van whispered and cocked her head a little, looking at you like she wasn´t sure you were actually there, not just a dream she´d gotten too wrapped up in. you felt a greed then, one of your cravings had been satisfied, but another was still there, beneath the desire to fuck, there was the simple, almost embarrassingly simple and innocent yet deep desire to be held, wrapped up in her embrace, and she could sense it, so she gave you a look that said “what is it? tell me”. 

“can I-” you said quietly, holding your arms in a way that completed the thought “hug you”, so she almost made a kind of sound she’d make while watching a kitten lay down on her lap and said “you´re sweet, you think that´s where I´d draw the line? really?”. you shrugged, unsure about her attitude towards mundane affection with people she wasn´t too familiar with yet, but she smiled and beckoned you forward “come” she ordered, and wrapped her arms around you, tightly but no roughness to her touch, at all, a soft yet firm feel to it as you put your own arms around her back and held onto her, felt her warmth against your chest, rested your head on her shoulder, and felt her move one of her hands under your shirt to rest it on the small of your back, the way you´d daydreamed of before, rubbing up and down a little, enjoying the way you melted against her, as if you´d done it many times before, a trust to it that made her feel that rush of protectiveness she´d felt earlier, a sudden inability to let go. 

there was an implicit understanding between you, you felt it, that both of you had gone a long time without being touched the way you had been that night, not just back in the theatre but in that moment, so you stood there together for a good while, hearing the cars pass by, people talking down the street, feeling the night grow colder while you kept each other warm, until she eventually loosened her grip and pulled away, smiling softly, caressing your cheek “it´s really fucking brutal that I have to let you go now..”. 

you leaned into her touch for a second before you put your hands on her waist and said “I´ll make it worth the wait tomorrow, promise”, your tone suggestive enough to replace her frustration about parting ways so soon with anticipation, “I´m sure you will..” she whispered and ran her hands down from your shoulders to your arms, giving them a light squeeze before stepping back.

“okay, you´ve gotta go now, or I´ll just follow you and get a bunch of messages about where the fuck I went”. you laughed at her dramatic flair and leaned in to give her a quick but heartfelt kiss after making sure nobody by the door was watching, pure bliss for about three seconds, then a sigh from her from her, immediately mourning loss of contact when your lips left hers.

“alright, but before that let me give you my number”, you said and waited for her to comply “oh yeah, almost forgot about all that” she admitted, realizing that she´d have had no way of contacting you the next day otherwise, so she pulled out her phone, opened a new contact, and handed it over to you. after you typed out your info and added your name with a heart, which got a sound of amusement out of her, you quickly gave it back, glad about the buzz you felt at the thought of waiting for a text from her.

“alright, I’ll go now. sleep well later, sweet dreams” you whispered to her as you stepped away and stole one last appreciative glance over her figure, watching her turn to leave as well as she did the same. “life is sweet enough right now” she told you, her voice low, her head titled to the side, that sweet girlish look again that flickered through whenever she was with someone she liked, wanted “thank you though, you too”. neither of you tore your eyes away from the other person until you were forced to, so the last image you had of her that night was stepping back into the light, while hers was you disappearing into the dark.

the entire way home, you didn´t register a single detail about your surroundings, nothing could have torn you out of your thoughts, so it was pure luck that you didn´t trip or run into someone trying to pass you on the sidewalk, while Van was busy trying to actually absorb what her workers were saying to her as they cleaned and closed the building for the night, every now and then asking them “huh? sorry, I didn´t hear you”, lying, the volume perfectly fine, her mind simply too clouded by you to let anything else fully sink in. 

around 12am, you laid in bed, freshly showered, relaxed, your arms folded across your chest, the window open, a deep sense of joy washing over you, soothing your worn out body, wondering if you´d be laying next to her the same time the next day, and as if she´d heard you thinking, your phone buzzed right then, the screen lit up with an unsaved number, so you rolled over and squinted your eyes while reading “hey! I hope I’m not waking you up with this but change of plans, I cleared my schedule for tomorrow, so whenever you´re ready, I´ll be here”, her address spelled out underneath, so you quickly typed out a response, that made it clear how eager you were to keep your waiting period to a minimum.

“well in that case, wanna have breakfast together?” you answered, unwilling to wait til evening, a blue bubble appearing mere seconds after on her end of the chat, “perfect yes, I´ll make you something, be here by 10. and I´d like to keep chatting but I need to sleep so I have enough energy to handle you tomorrow. so.”

you smiled at your phone then as you both exchanged a few last texts and then tried to fall asleep as fast as possible, so most of the remaining few hours apart would not be spent conscious, would pass quickly, a last thought before you drifted off:

thank god I didn´t take my usual way home that night. I hope she makes my life go up in flames and that I warm her in the process. what else is spring for but this: blooming. becoming. being made anew by desire. by her.

[way-2-haught]

It's 2025 and I'm married! 😊

It’s 5 days into 2017 and i dont have a girlfriend yet, Wtf 2017, help me out here.

[way-2-haught]

ARCANE LEAGUE OF LESBIANS: 2x08 - “Killing is a Cycle”

[way-2-haught]

[dies in the saw trap bc the little puppet video instructions played only once without subtitles so i don't know what i'm supposed to be doing]

[way-2-haught]

take your carriage very slowly by your rival’s home, that she might see your latest hat

[way-2-haught]

We haven't see your tea dragons in a while, I hope they're doing ok.

They’re all fine! The weather here has been hitting high 30s°-low 40s° C so they’re just trying to keep cool these days 👌

[way-2-haught]

IM SORRY BUT THERE IS NO HETEROSEXUAL EXPLANATION FOR THIS THEY ARE GIRLFRIENDS YOUR HONOR-

THEY ARE

GAYYYY

[way-2-haught]

You and Vi share a steamy moment...

Fandom: Arcane (League of Legends)

Pairing: Vi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, mature content, fingering, oral, body worship, swearing, mentions of blood and bruises

Word Count: 3,300~

Notes: It's my first time writing Vi and I haven't written in almost a year so I might be a little rusty! Pardon any grammar mistakes or weird edits because I'm on mobile 😓 Hopefully you enjoy this and if you think I'm doing okay then I might write for her again! I thank you all for taking the time to read this! ❤️

━─━─━━─━「⚙️」━━─━─━─━

The faint glow of colorful neon from outside slipped through the old, glass-cracked windows of the small house you two had found safety in after a not-so pretty encounter with some goons.

Just a few hours back in the undercity and Vi managed to start a fight with someone and forced you to carry half of her weight through rotting streets and alleyways into some decomposing building before more trouble came your way.

The pink-haired had won the fight and sported a proud smirk she was shamelessly flashing your way, bloodied lips and teeth aimed at your face twisting with concern.

"C'mon! I kicked all that ass and I don't even get a word from you the whole way here?", Vi teased with a light chuckle and a nudge of a bruised elbow against your sore side, hoping to lighten the mood.

You sighed and pushed her elbow away, patting the sore spot on your ribs with a little hiss. "I'm amazed at how little self-control you got. You couldn't go an hour without trying to beat the shit out of someone? Forty minutes? Shit...fifteen minutes, even?", your tone wasn't nice but it had no malice either -- you were just tired and sore and you didn't enjoy seeing her hurt even though you knew she had been through much worse.

Vi pursed her lips, tilted her head in thought and glanced at your illuminated form standing above her as she nursed a bruised jaw. "That was at least, uhm...eight minutes without a fight.", her tongue clicked and she chuckled again and this time managed to pull a slight smile from you.

"A new record…", you laughed and dropped down to sit at her side, both backs against a wall full of abstract grafitti. "Let's aim for double digits next time, yeah?", you grinned and slapped her thigh.

You couldn't see her that well but there was enough light for you to notice Vi glancing down at where you had let your hand rest -- over her thigh.

You noticed the way she bit on her bottom lip and seemed to swallow the air stuck in her throat, her bright blue eyes studying the length of your fingers and arm, distracted by your chest heaving from the slowly dwindling adrenaline, to your jaw and parted lips. She let her eyes linger for a few moments before moving closer with a smirk that made your insides do flips. But this one wasn't like before… It wasn't playful… It felt raw and...dirty…

Maybe you were distracted by her sultry look and didn't mean to, maybe it was on purpose and you wanted to encourage her further but you squeezed her thigh and that was when she pounced…

Vi's lips crashed against yours, hungry and needy and rough and everything you expected from the pink-haired. You felt how she touched your left wrist and heard movement, how the skin of your hand met the cold wall and how the other hand did the same. She was nimble and swift and in a split second had your arms pinned, the weight of her body over your lap, her skin so hot with the salty scent of sweat and the pungent smell of copper.

You wanted to tell her she was hurt and should be careful but her lips were so relentless that all you could do was moan against her needy mouth, ball your hands into fists and surrender yourself to the shape of her lips; to the faint taste of blood on her tongue that made you flush and shiver with each swipe against yours.

Vi pulled away for a short moment, catching her breath and resting warm forehead against yours, the hold on your wrists loosening just enough for you to know that if you wanted to escape, to end this between you two, that you would be able to.

You looked up to find a hesitant Vi with her beautiful blue eyes staring down at you, her head a couple of inches away, chewing on her bottom lip as she waited for certainty from you.

It was cute -- you thought -- how she could be a brute and a hard-head and still seem so timid and almost innocent, something that you don't think she allowed herself to be around others...so the fact she let you see a bit of vulnerability meant a lot to you and filled your chest with courage.

You saw her mouth open as if to say something but quickly close at your amused smile as you leaned forwards and closed the gap between you both with a tender kiss to the scar on her upper lip before drifting downwards to engulf her in a kiss that emboldened her to tighten the grip on your wrists and push herself closer, chest on chest, her body trapping you against the painted bricks.

With her so close you could feel her heart pounding behind thin layers of clothing, feel her hot cheeks, feel the stray pink hairs tickle your face, feel her breath on your skin. She could feel your flushed face radiate warmth, your lashes touch her skin, your heart beating back with a force that drove her to move her palms down your wrists, caressing the flesh until her fingertips met with fabric and you felt her snarl into the kiss.

Vi licked your bottom lip before she pulled away with a huff, hands shooting for the front of your coat, fumbling with the buttons. A small giggle left you and her attention snapped up at you, the smile on your face so adorable she had to kiss you some more, grinning against your lips as the thick coat was pushed off your shoulders.

"You're so fucking cute, you know that? You ever been told that you got the face of an angel?", Vi mumbled between kisses to the side of your jaw, tracing a path down to the side of your neck to lick and suck on. Hands busied themselves with the front of your pants, undoing belts and slipping under a thin shirt, eager to explore your body.

"An angel?", you hummed and closed your eyes to the feeling of marred fingertips caressing the lines of your hips, squeezing them, moving to the skin of your belly. Her mouth worked a mark onto your neck, a nice and purple one, deep enough to last a good while. She smiled proudly at you, hands inching up second by second, pushing shirt up with them, fingers resting below your breasts.

"Gonna make you see heaven, babygirl…", Vi purred with a swipe of her thumbs over the thin layer of cloth that made you gasp lightly. She pulled it down to reveal your chest and you felt the cool air bite at your exposed skin, quickly replaced by the warmth of her palm covering your tits.

You let out a dragged out sigh and bit on your bottom lip, looking down at blue eyes glued to the flesh peeking through her fingers. She seemed so mesmerized, whispering about how soft you were, squishing and running fingers over the hardening peaks, playing with them with a pleased smile.

"Having fun?", you teased, flushed features glowing under the neon lights. Vi smirked up at you and nodded, groping your breast with a little hum, pulling a giggle out of you. Your amusement quickly left when you saw her head dip and felt her lips wrap around your nipple, tongue slipping out to give it a teasing lick, making you squeak.

"Oh, sensitive little thing, aren't you?", Vi hummed against your chest, placing kisses around the hard nub, letting her lips faintly brush against it but not quite giving it the attention you wanted. You could feel yourself pout and a curse bubbling inside your throat but the sound died when her warm and wet mouth took hold of your nipple, sucking, kissing, licking and feeling teeth graze it ever so gently.

You tried to squeeze your legs, feeling yourself growing wet with the doting Vi put on your chest, switching to your other breast, toying with that nipple with her mouth, fingers with the other. A moan slipped past your lips, eyes closing for a moment, the buzzing of the neon outside mixed with your breathing and the pink-haired's hums.

"Vi…", you let out a whine at the slight rocking of her lower-half against your thighs. "Let me touch you…", words fell on deaf ears, her attention on the in-between of your tits, kissing and licking a line down in the direction of your belly, leaving wet kisses where the waistband of your loosened pants started and the bits of warm skin ended.

"...let me touch you…", you repeated, knowing she could hear you just fine but pretended not to. You could see the kind of game she was playing and you really didn't want to give her the satisfaction of begging. Not when she had that stupid smirk on her face, looking up at you as if to challenge.

"Where are 'ya manners?", Vi cooed and slowly pulled your waistband down and with a little bit of wiggling from you, pushed it towards your boots, letting the fabric hang around them. "You that pretty voice of yours if you want something…", she chuckled, mouth latching onto your hipbone, kissing towards the other and then the front of your underwear, eyes watching your reaction.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, eager for her to continue but prideful enough not to break so easily. She thought it was fun how you tried to act tough, biting and pulling on the thin fabric of your panties, lips curving into a pleased smile when a breath was taken. You stared at her with a blush on your cheeks, pink bathed by the green from a sign that gave you enough light to see she too had a flushed expression...and color on her jawline.

"You sure you can do anything with that sore jaw of yours?", you snorted at the offended look she gave you, teeth releasing the waistband of your underwear. "Wouldn't want you to strain it…", a small laugh left you at her frown, knowing she'd take everything you had said as a challenge.

How the tables had turned…

Though with her warm mouth attaching itself to your right thigh, you weren't sure you really had the upper-hand here. But you liked seeing her so determined to prove you that a sore jaw wouldn't stand in the way of her taking care of you…

Vi kissed and swiped her tongue over your flesh, giving it the attention it had given your neck to get a colorful mark to appear. You ran your fingers through her hair, combing loose strands into place, touching where hair was shorter on the side of her head, caressing over the metal on her ear to the back of her neck. Carefully you pushed a hand under the bright jacket, scratching the skin up to thin hairs and then back down again, trying to give her the hint to ditch that annoying jacket.

"Hmm, didn't ask nicely yet…", the pink-haired grin grinned against your bruised thigh, turning her attention to the other one, kissing towards the thin cloth covering you, fingertips pushing it aside just a little for you to feel her lips so close to your folds.

You held on for a bit longer, still refusing to beg...but when she leaned forwards and pressed her hot tongue against your front, licking you through a thin pair of panties, your brain short-fused and a quiet "please" left your lips. You felt a rumble against your core, heard her chuckle and glance up at you with a shit-eating grin.

"Good girl...wasn't that hard, uh?", Vi teased and pulled away, earning a whine from you. "Patience, babygirl…", she huffed at you, brows furrowed in a stern frown. You closed your mouth, watching her toss the jacket away, sitting in front of you in that sleeveless hoodie, muscular arms covered in dark tattoos glistening from sweat under the neon.

Your eyes studied them for a while, oblivious to the proud smirk on her face. Without hesitation you reached forwards and touched them, giving them a squeeze, caressing up and down, letting your fingertips trace the shape of the gears.

"Like them that much, uh?", Vi spoke up, getting your attention back. "You want me to flex for you, pretty thing?", she smirked at your shy nod and flexed, muscles bulging under your warm palms, fingertips squeezing the meat in pure delight.

"... you're so hot, Vi…", you murmured.

She smiled, "You haven't seen anything. Be a good girl and I'll take this off.", she pointed at the hoodie with her thumb, grinning. "Spread your legs nice and wide and let me have a taste.", her command was laced with hunger and it sent a shiver down your spine, forcing your legs open.

"That easy, uh? Just gotta tell 'ya what to do to get you like this?", her palm cupped your front, tips of slender fingers poking playfully at the wet spot in your panties. Blue eyes studied your face, warm with a blush and a little pout. She gave your lips a peck and lowered herself between your thighs and with a quick glance up at you, pulled your panties down.

"Vi…", you hissed at the feeling of her lips kissing over your warm folds, tongue darting out to push against your clit. Your thighs were pulled over her shoulders, a hand shooting for her head, careful in clutching pink hair as the other slipped under your shirt to toy with your own breasts.

Vi moved her tongue downwards, licking a line towards your dripping cunt and then back up, wrapping lips around the sensitive, pulsating nub that made you squirm and moan. She hummed, the vibrations making your thighs shake.

"Holy shit…", you moaned at the kissing and the licking and the sucking of your clit. It felt so good and overwhelming and made your body feel nice and warm and like your bones were made of goo as if you were melting under her eager mouth.

And dear lord she was eager…

The pink-haired moaned loudly against your pussy, made sounds so obscene they were fitting of a brothel, ate you out with a hunger that made you forget everything around you. Her fingers dug into the meat of your thigh, keeping it open with an almost bossy push when you tried to close your legs. Other hand disappeared between your thighs and you felt her rub circles on your clit while her tongue dipped lower, licking and prodding at your wet cunt, feeling hot breath against it when she growled up at your trembling form.

"Want 'ya to cum all over my tongue and my fingers…I want you to make a mess…", Vi nibbled on your inner-thigh, hard enough to hurt but with her fingertips playing with your clit, the sensations mixed and it felt good as well. "In that order…", she smirked before pressing her mouth back between your legs, licking stripes up and down your pussy, kissing folds, flicking tongue against your clit, attention everywhere and anywhere in a pace so erratic you couldn't predict her actions…

So when the tip of her hot tongue dipped into your dribbling cunt and her fingers started their circular motion on your raw, sensitive button, you threw your head back and let out a dragged out moan.

Vi hummed in pleasure at your fingers pulling on her hair, the moment of pleasure she had been building up washing you over like a wave...and when you thought she'd give you a break to take in some air, her tongue was replaced by a finger, stretching you in such a delicious way you arched your back off the wall and moaned her name.

Her mouth covered your clit and she curled her finger inside of you, fingertip grazing soft walls and she started a slow and rhythmic back and forth that made your juices drip down her hand and had you seeing stars. Vi kissed your clit and watched how your eyes closed tight and your jaw hung open with each labored breath coming out in a faint cloud that dissolved in the cool air. She was proud. She was so proud of herself for making you feel good, making you look like a hot mess…

Another curl from her digit inside of you with her hard-working lips and tongue on your clit and you knew your body wouldn't be able to handle much more. Your thighs squeezed her head in place, a lewd moan left you and you felt your walls squish her slender finger. You heard her moan softly and whisper praise against your gushing, twitching cunt, giving it one last, long and tedious lick.

"Vi, fuck...holy fuck…", you needed a moment to collect yourself, to breathe in some air, to let your body stop shaking all over. Vi watched your chest move up and down with each struggled breath, an arrogant smirk on her face. She touched your lips with her messy fingers and you didn't even need to think about it -- you licked her long finger clean, half-lidded eyes meeting hers hooded by lust.

"Such a good girl…", she caressed your bottom lip and smiled, a foreign tenderness reaching her for a split second. "Let's aim for double digits next time, uh?", Vi snorted and you moved her hand away, pouting like a child but cracking soon after and letting out a soft laugh that made her smile.

"You're horrible and I hate you…", you teased.

Vi cleaned her mouth with the back of her hand and faked a gasp. "You can't hate me after I made you cum…", the pink-haired leaned forwards to rest her chin on your chest, looking up at you.

"...you make it hard to hate when you look at me like that.", you smiled and she grinned, reaching up to kiss you. You tasted yourself on her tongue and it made your stomach start to heat up again.

"Like what?", Vi kissed your chin.

"You know…", you trailed off, "Like a kid on their birth-name…", your fingers combed through her hair and she hummed against your chin, blue eyes glancing up at yours with a fondness you never thought you would see in the other woman.

"Because I made my girl feel all good? Yeah, I'm happy…", Vi pursed her lips, realizing what she had just said. My girl. So you were her girl…?

"Well…", you could sense she felt a little awkward and tried to avoid your stare. You decided to lighten the mood. For now, at least. Maybe another time you'd ask her if she meant that, if she actually wanted you to be her girl...girlfriend...

"How about I make you feel good too?", you gave her a timid smile, "I remember you saying you'd take this off…?", you pulled on the hoodie and she chuckled, pushing herself back to study your face, still flushed and sweaty but with an eager smile.

"Are you sure about that? Wouldn't want 'ya to strain yourself…", Vi mocked your earlier comment and you snorted, reaching towards her head to give it a rough tug, hearing her moan softly and then hiss, regarding you with a look between pissed, surprised and excited.

"I owe you…", you purred.

Vi bit on her bottom lip when you released her hair and when you palmed her breasts through the hoodie, accepting you wanted to return the favor without much complaint. Though if you thought you'd get away with trying to be in-control, that was a lesson she would be quick to teach you.

[way-2-haught]

Jinx, yelling at Caitlyn: FIGHT ME YOU NERD ASS SLUT

Caitlyn: at least try to sound somewhat sophisticated when you threaten someone.

Jinx: Dost thou want to engage in a dual my good BITCH?!

Caitlyn: …Somehow that’s worse.

[way-2-haught]

jajajajaja my gawd

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god i want to SIT on vi’s FACE so fucking HARD

she’d look so fucking determined god. almost angry. eyes glaring up at you, brows furrowed intensely enough to see the crease between them. her fingers would be burning holes into your thighs. strong hands gripping hard enough to make you wince. and every time you did she’d just squeeze harder. steadying you in the way she wanted. she’d make sure you knew to look at her. training you with loud hits to the fat of your hips so you knew to keep your head tilted down into her stare. she’d only break the gaze when you came. squeezing her eyes shut to heighten her sense of taste as she drank you down. gulping you like water on a hot day while you sobbed into the air.

i want her. gimme gimme (x1000)

[way-2-haught]

there are 3 paths

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"We need you back on your feet."

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Arcane Textposts

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