Vi never received.

She didn't know why she'd never bothered to try being on the receiving end in bed, but it just came expected of her to be on top. Her, a muscular butch woman with rough fingers and a sarcastic attitude. Plus, the women she got with was usually more than a one time thing. What was the use of getting vulnerable, letting herself get appreciated?

That was until she met you, of course.

You managed to soften her down like butter– she'd never found herself being so vulnerable except for when she was with you. She'd let you hold her and caress her and whisper soft soothing words without getting embarrassed or trying to put up a wall. But she still held strong when it came to being the one to give in bed– just in her nature, and you never seemed to complain.

Until one day. Vi had her head in your lap, gently rubbing circles on your thigh (yep, totally soft– sue her!) and you asked her straight up if she'd be willing to bottom for once. She'd frozen up and gone all sweaty, stammering and insisting she liked to give. That she didn't need any of that bullshit.

But here Vi was. Sitting on the bed and watching you move about the room while humming to yourself. She had agreed, of course she had agreed!

"Freakin' me out here. I don't take that long to get in bed."

Vi grumbled, scratching her flushed neck and watching you with a nervous expression. Her palms were practically puddles.