cw: suggestive . no smut . kissing .

vi is already close before anything even really starts.

not hovering, not crowding, just there. knee brushing yours on the couch, her arm warm and heavy behind you, thumb tracing slow, absent lines against your side like she’s grounding herself through you as much as you are through her.

she kisses you like she always does when she’s trying to say i’m here. unhurried. patient. lips soft, hands gentler than people ever expect from her.

when things start to shift, when the air changes, when touch turns a little more intentional — vi pulls back just enough to look at you.

“you okay?” she asks quietly.

you nod, but when it comes time to pull your shirt off, your hands freeze. fingers curl into the hem. your breath stutters before you can stop it.

vi notices immediately. she doesn’t say anything at first. doesn’t tease, doesn’t joke. she just stills. her hands drop back to her own lap, giving you space without making it obvious.

“hey,” she murmurs, tilting her head to catch your eyes. “we don’t gotta do anything you don’t wanna do. i swear.”

you try to laugh it off, but it comes out thin. vi studies you for a second then makes a decision. slowly, deliberately, she reaches for her shirt instead.

“can i?” she asks, like she always does, even though she knows the answer.

when she pulls it over her head, she doesn’t rush. doesn’t make a show of it. she just settles back in front of you in her bra, shoulders relaxed, expression open.

“just… wanted you to know,” she says softly, shrugging a little, “i’m not askin you to do anything i wouldn’t do too.”

she scoots closer after that, hands holding yours. “you’re safe,” she adds. “with me, always.”

you feel your chest loosen — not all the way, but enough to breathe again.

later, when she kisses down your neck, when her hands slide to your waist with clear intent, you tense again as she moves lower. your hands hover at your own hips, unsure, guarded. vi stops instantly.

“hey.” her voice is calm, but there’s concern in it now. she looks up at you from where she’s knelt, brows drawn together. “what’s goin on in that head, huh?”

you hesitate, swallow. “…i just,” you start, then stop. your cheeks burn. “i don’t really like how i look.”

vi’s expression softens so fast it almost hurts. she rises back up, cupping your face with both hands, thumbs brushing under your eyes like she’s afraid you might disappear if she lets go.

“baby,” she says, quietly but firmly, “look at me.”

“i don’t touch you because i tolerate your body,” she continues. “i touch you because i want you. all of you. every inch you think you gotta hide.”

she presses her forehead to yours again, breathing you in.

“but if today’s not a day you feel okay lettin me see or touch something?” she shrugs gently. “then today’s not that day. we go at your speed.”

her arms wrap around you tight, protective, clingy. “you don’t gotta earn this,” she murmurs into your hair. “you already got me.”

you smile and she says. “would you maybe like to cuddle and watch tv? :)”