#caitlyn kiramman x you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kissesz · 2 months ago

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𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

caitlyn kiramman x f!reader

warnings: see above, mdni. this is nothing but pwp. f!sub!reader. dom!caitlyn. mean!caitlyn. but it's soft. she's only a little mean. also a little flawed but like, who isn't? semi-toxic it is then. she's very sorry you guys are making up later. vaginal fingering. cunnilingus. orgasm denial (1x). biting. p.s. english is not my first language, please bear with my struggling.

read part 2 here

notes: first post, hi! if you love women as much as i do, consider sticking around! this was requested (and encouraged to post) by one of my dearest friends, em. i'll love you always. and to my sweetest readers who managed to make it this far, i cherish each and every one of you, stay wonderful. feel free to comment your thoughts, shoot me a message, i'm all ears.

(repost because i fucked up the formatting, whoops.)

Two rapid knocks on your door after the clock has struck two only meant a single thing as of late.

Caitlyn Kiramman.

A woman you grew to hold close and dear in the depths of your heart. She’s shining prestige wrapped in affluence and grace with sugared kindness that blooms a warmth in your chest. The concept of the unattainable envisioned by the masses. She’s soft with affection where she ought to be, sharp and cold where it benefits her.

And yet, here she was. At your doorstep, at this ungodly hour, like clockwork.

You didn’t know when, exactly, this became routine. Perhaps it began with stolen glances across crowded rooms, or fleeting conversations that swirled around in your mind far longer than they should have. Caitlyn had always been a topic of interest to you, carefully composed, her smiles perfectly rehearsed, her every move designed to captivate. And yet, somewhere along the way, she let you see behind the curtain. Not all at once, but inch by inch, until you could no longer remember how you managed to hold her at arm’s length to begin with.

Maybe it was the night she showed up on your doorstep for the first time, instead of you on hers, drenched from the rain, the mask of elegance she wore so well slightly cracked. You’d never seen her like that before: vulnerable, desperate for a moment of reprieve. She didn’t say why she came to you, but she didn’t have to. The answer was in the way her voice trembled when she finally spoke, in the way she clung to you like you were the only stable thing in a world determined to break her.

You should’ve questioned it. Should’ve hesitated before letting her in, before letting her slip past your defenses so easily. But you didn’t. Instead, you simply held her, murmured quiet reassurances against her temple as she exhaled shakily into your collarbone. As if you were someone she could turn to. As if you were hers to seek comfort in.

Or maybe it wasn’t one defining moment at all. Maybe it was the accumulation of a thousand small gestures: the way she reached for your hand without thinking, or how she never left your side without making sure you felt safe. The way her laughter softened in your presence, like it wasn’t meant for anyone else to hear. The way her fingertips brushed against yours in passing, always lingering for a fraction longer than necessary. The way her eyes sought you out first in every room, as if to silently ask, Are you alright? before anyone else even considered it.

You didn’t ask for her affection, and yet, here she was—woven into your life so tightly that you couldn’t imagine untangling her, even if you wanted to.

Now, she stood patient. Draped in a tailored fur-lined coat that framed her figure like it belonged in a gallery. Gold glinted in the low light—her jewelry, her dress, the faint shimmer of her makeup, all intentionally resembling starlit skies. Even in the dead of night, where most fall victim to obscurity, she was truly flawless.

You had tried, once, to ignore it—to turn away from the soft tap of her knuckles against your door, to pretend you didn’t care whether she came or not. That resolve had crumbled the moment she spoke your name through the threshold, hushed and laced with something dangerously close to yearning.

And so, like always, you found yourself standing before her, breath uneven, pulse traitorous.

Pushing down the handle, you stepped back to let the door fall ajar.

“You’re awake,” Caitlyn noted, her tone soft and conversational, though her sharp eyes certainly betrayed her. She offered a smile, which you returned in kind. It was familiar, comforting. You let your eyes take her in, committing every detail of her to memory as if she’d forever be gone by the next sunrise.

Leaning against the doorframe, you let your head rest against the pale ivory of the wall. It was late. “Barely.”

Her smile widened slightly, but she said nothing, merely stepping forward as though your presence in the doorway was an invitation. Her arms enveloped you, as did the scent of her perfume: something vanilla with an edge of spice, curling around the slightest of florals. You nuzzled into the crook of her neck, closing your eyes to savour the sensation of being in her proximity. Her hands came to rest on your back, pulling you impossibly closer.

There was something unbearably vicious about the way she held you. Like she knew you needed it more than she did. Like she could sense the weight of her absence pressing into your ribs, suffocating, unbearable. She never said it aloud, never boasted of it, but you felt it in the way her fingers curled against the fabric of your shirt, just barely tightening. The smallest tell.

A soft sigh squeezed itself from your lungs as you parted, and she tilted up your chin to hold your gaze for a second seemingly never ending. When Caitlyn decided she had admired you enough, (but only for the time being) she clashed your lips together in a kiss so deep you feared you’d drown.

That happened a lot with her. The incessant fear you could easily lose yourself.

She kissed like she had no intention of stopping—like she wanted to steal every thought, every protest, every inch of hesitation until all that remained was her. Until she was carved into your bones.

Gentle teeth then nipped at you, snapping you out of whatever reverie you were beginning to spiral into as your breaths grew heavier.

“I missed you,” was whispered into the oxygen-depleted air between you by Caitlyn, as she ever so slowly started inching towards your couch. Those three words floated, so quiet, yet so heavy. The depth of them crashed over you like a wave, making your thoughts hazy as you struggled to breathe.

The worst part? You believed her.

You always believed her.

It was a dangerous thing, the way she could make you forget the ache of waiting. How she could saunter into your life after days—weeks—without word, and with one look, one touch, have you willing to unravel at her feet.

Pulling you along with her, seeing as you didn’t protest, she moved with an ease that suggested she’s done this countless times. Familiarized herself with your space enough to know you’ll trust her to guide. You didn’t want to admit you’d do so regardless.

But she knew.

Gods, she always knew.

There was no hiding from her. No veiling the way your body responded to her, no pretending she didn't have this hold over you. She saw every flicker of reluctance, every frantic breath, and she made it her mission to unravel you. To pull apart the pieces of you that were too stubborn to fall in line.

As the back of your knees hit the edge of the couch, she pushed you downwards, your back now against plush velvet. Caitlyn pulled back, her lips puffy and swollen as if mirroring yours, pupils dilated as if high out of her mind on the taste of you. Her fingers skimmed your skin like fire, searing a path from your collarbones, down between your chest, before finally finding purchase on the sash of your robe, pulling and watching as it fell open, mesmerized. You wanted to say something. To stop her before you lost yourself entirely in her. But the words never came. How could they when she was looking at you like that? Feral, tinged with something much deeper than desire. Her hands found your waist next, fingers pressing in just enough to make you gasp, to make you arch instinctively into her touch. She knew you so well. Knew exactly how to make you bend to her, how to make you fall apart at her will.

And then, she kissed you again.

This time, it was different. Less tender than before, more demanding—insistent. Her lips crashed against yours with the intensity of a storm, and you couldn’t help but meet her with equal fervor. She tasted like whiskey and something richer, something intoxicating, and you drank it in as if it were the last thing you'd ever have.

Your pulse raced as she pulled back, but only enough to leave a teasing space between you, enough to make you ache. She took a staggering, deliberate breath as she admired the mess she'd made of you.

Her voice, low and perilous, cut through the quiet. "I want you," she whispered, her lips barely brushing against yours, three words that made your heart race with an intensity you weren’t sure you were prepared for.

Messy, so messy as sly fingers snaked themselves around your breast, painstakingly slowly closing, increasing the pressure of which they’ve captured it. Your pulse fluttered, and Caitlyn swallowed the deliciously high-pitched moan threatening to spill from your velvety lips. Once only a string of saliva connected the memories of your kiss, she dove headfirst into the fragile skin of your neck, sucking and biting on it like a predator starved. The gloss of her lips smeared against you colorless, only blooming hues from beneath by her ministrations contrasted against your skin tone. A myriad of carmine and crimson, dancing in spots and dots of darker and lighter.

Flexing one knee upward you pressed it against her side, asking, the burn in your abdomen pooling deeper—dripping molten in carnal need. A pathetic keen was what you could offer as a cry for salvation, the state of your desperation swirling into and sweetening your blood. Caitlyn huffed a sound akin to a giggle, reveling in your sounds reverberating around her heart, savouring every inch of you as her hands stilled, and moved to trace down your sides. Deliciously tingling shivers were her reward, only, the true euphoria of eye-rolling breathlessness rested lower, between your thighs.

Though not before she spellboundly locked your eyes together, to witness your fall from grace, had her hand made the descent against your glistening folds.

Caitlyn Kiramman was clever with her fingers. She was an excellent shot, after all. Manicured, slender, long and expressive—from the very start she delighted in curling and waving them around unnecessarily seductively every chance she got. Intertwining and lacing them around the neck of a wine glass, door handles, your shoulders, all while you fell enchanted, and far down a wicked fantasy of her digits buried inside of you.

Accompanying a sharp, satisfied intake of breath from her, they sunk impossibly deep with no warning. A sight to behold and cherish for her you were, as an obscene whine loud enough to wake the city, followed by a filthy whimper that made her want to tear you apart, tumbled from your parted, lovebitten lips. Her fingers picked up a pace from which they never slowed, hooking up to caress your saccharine inner walls as they tightened around her in order to suffocate.

And oh it was pristine unadulterated ecstasy when her thumb found its leverage on your clit, drawing tight circles around it as if chasing and ruthlessly shoving you towards your orgasm.

“Ngh- Cait- ah-”

Pitiful little thing you were, spine contorted unnaturally, breath heaving, hair sprawled beneath you as you gazed up through glossy eyes at the harbinger of your exhilaration, only to find soulful azures staring lovingly back at you.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” Her ambery tones of cashmere and cardamom suffocated you, dripping your senses in a glowing warmth, nuanced by a dusky tint in the way she formed her syllables. An unspoken truth between you was interrupted by yet another mewl, alongside a fumbling hand clutching at her wrist in silent command to keep going.

No perplexion in the fact she obliged, even going as far to lean further down in order to languidly lick a stroke up the expanse of your breast, encircling a nipple between greedy lips. Your toes curled as the sudden absence of air in your lungs hit you like the first note of a symphony, the kind that built steadily but constantly, keeping you blind with pleasure as it swept you into its crescendo. Sweet release was within reach, your restless heartbeat a telltale sign and the unabashed squelching sounds of your core a reassurance nonpareil. Frenzied, as you are done apart, hands now pawing at the sheets—it took only a particularly sharp thrust of her finger upward to have you almost toppling and falling over the edge.

But as soon as you felt it, it was gone. Hollow was the space inside of you, squeezing and tightening against grueling, agonizing nothing, as all stimuli were robbed of you.

Whipping your head upwards with a cry akin to that of wounded prey, you sank your nails into Caitlyn's wrist. Something livid and bewildered flickered in your eyes, alongside the undeniable flow of salty tears that threatened to spill lest you blinked them back.

“Why? Why did you-”

Cruel, devilishly cruel and vile was the laugh that tore its way through her throat, smoky vetiver strangling bygone syrupy spice and comfort. It was utterly amusing to her how melodramatic you could act, like this was disturbingly traumatic to that poor tiny heart of yours. Shiny, pearly white teeth glinted beneath the dull lighting as she yanked you closer by your calves.

Her mouth made direct contact with your slit in a split second—an experimental lick descending onto your swollen clit had you sobbing out her name like a mantra meant for worship.

You didn’t just say it—you felt it, like you were kneeling at the altar of her touch, drowning in the devotion she’d drawn from you, effortlessly.

“Mhm, good girl.” Her humming vibrated against you, the praise spilling from her lips resembling cloyingly sugar-saturated ambrosia. Doubling down on her efforts her grip was bordering on hurtful, tongue curling just at the right angle to have you lightheaded, lost, wailing and whining as the knot in your stomach threatened to unfurl. Though, there now lacked a sense of serene to wash over you as her threat of denial wasn’t foreign to you anymore.

And what does one do when they find themselves needing more—when they’re lost in uncertainty, fear gnawing at the edges of their thoughts? Pray, of course.

Opening your mouth for stray honeyed pleas of "Please," easily softened her to devoted compliance. It was music to her ears, absolutely addicting. There was a certain cadence to your voice, trembling with need, with the kind of vulnerability that made her all the more ravenous, swirling her tongue around a spot that made you see stars.

It didn’t take long for you to come undone with a pornographic moan—blinding white bliss abruptly veiling you, your thighs quivering and breath held, every drop of your juices diligently lapped up by the woman still nestled in the midst of your legs.

Closing your eyes, the rise and fall of your chest was the sole thing keeping you grounded. And when it fell silent, no more Caitlyn caressing you merciful and gentle: porcelain cracked and glass shattered as in response to your comedown. Your stares locked, now wide open, both of you suspended in the stillness.

Caitlyn didn’t rush to move, her presence still coiling around you like a weight. Her fingertips brushed against your skin one last time, slow and deliberate, before she shifted, finally distancing herself. The warmth of her body, the comfort of her touch, seemed to vanish all at once, leaving a cold void in its wake. She sat up, taking her precious time, as though her every movement was meant to torment you. You couldn’t help but watch, unable to break the trance she’d mercilessly dragged you into. She didn’t look back at you immediately, but when she did, her eyes held something—a tenderness, yes, but also something unreadable. You couldn’t tell if she pitied you or if she simply treasured the downright control she had over you.

“It’s late, isn’t it?” she said, a casual observation that somehow felt like a statement heavier than whatever was anchoring your states of mind. She tilted her head, her gaze now piercing, but there was no harshness there, just that sharp, calculating precision you had come to recognize. “You should sleep. You really should.”

But you couldn’t just let her leave like that, couldn’t let her slip away when the air between you still crackled with the remnants of everything that had just passed. You opened your mouth, ready to say something—anything—to pull her back. Maybe beg her to stay a little longer, maybe ask her why she was so calm, so composed when every part of you felt exposed and desperate.

But before you could speak, she was there, leaning over you once more, her presence surrounding you like a blizzard unforgiving, frigid and bitter. Tilting your face up to meet hers, her eyes locked onto yours with a force magnetic that made it impossible to look elsewhere.

“Don’t,” she whispered, her voice hushed, silencing. Sour and acrid was the tone that reprimanded—shut you up like one would a child. There was no room for argument, no room for anything but what she allowed.

Her lips pressed against yours with an intensity that stole the breath from your airways, quieting the words that had formed on your tongue, now buried and dead. It was a kiss that took, that owned, that coerced you to forget everything else. You melted into it, no resistance left, just the feeling of her mouth against yours, a reminder of the untainted power she held over you. Her lips were plush, but the kiss was anything but. It was an imprint, a claim, and before you could even process the heat of it, she was pulling away, leaving you gasping with a faint, satisfied smile dancing at the corner of her lips.

“You know where I am if you need me,” she said, her voice drifting like a whisper through corners secluded, a promise without a guarantee.

And just like that, she stood. The couch shifted slightly as she moved, her body vanishing from your sight as she made her way to the door. You didn’t speak. You didn’t move. All you could do was watch her, feeling the sorrow of her absence the moment she stepped away.

With one last lingering glance, Caitlyn reached for the door, grazing the handle. She paused, as though considering something, and then her voice broke the quiescence once more.

“Rest,” she said softly, her words like velour—slipping through the air discreetly. “You’ve earned it.”

She was gone.

©️ kissesz

977 notes · View notes

mihii-i · 1 month ago

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hypnotized.

Pairings: caitlyn kiramman x fem!reader

CW: nsfw, female reader, afab reader, modern au, CEO caitlyn, secretary reader, both are in their early 20s (23-24-ish), both giving and receiving for the reader but cait is kinda in control-ishhhh?? I don’t know I don’t like dom and sub titles, mutual jealousy, face sitting, cunnilingus, fingering, kind of drunk sex(?) but it’s consensual don’t worry, slight marking, fluffy, yes there is plot before the sexy time so calm down, this lowkey didn’t turn out good but who cares smh, timeskips of two or three months with each line cut, not proofread.

A/N: now playing — ayo technology by 50 cent. ohhhh I see how it is fine if my freaky fic get more likes then I post freaky fic that’s written decently and with plot how bout that yeah stop being thirsty smh guys this is /j and said with love i swear yall are amazing anyway 🕯️

Prolonged ticks of the clock’s hands flicking forward circled the empty enclosure, seemingly bouncing off of the glossed flooring your heels clicked along. Your eyelids briefly lowered upon catching sight of the thick glass shielded along the towering door before you, the lump in your throat bearing a heavy rock of anxiety you were unable to swallow back in the wake of her office only a few steps away.

It had always been an odd instinct of yours which you presumed every other employee had—intimidation. Your CEO was nothing short of a woman who invoked fear without even issuing threats of the sort, rather it primarily resided in the firm character Caitlyn upheld, strictly speaking out in a firm voice that compelled rival companies to shrink away in her presence. Perhaps that conflicting feeling that churned in your stomach could stem from the daunting front of her appearance she swerved into the office with everyday.

You’d think a CEO typically strayed away from a company environment, shrouding themselves in a veil of anonymity, coiled up in the deep shell of their own office in management to dictate every minute detail whether it was the dust on a computer, or the folding of a coffee cup. All while remaining strayed away from the bustling heat of the company itself, scrambling together every spreadsheet, descending their fingers onto a keyboard in rapid clicks all to keep it alive at the very least.

Not Caitlyn though.

You gradually found yourself hooked on the young woman’s conscientious and diligent approach toward affairs in the company, admiring how she firmly stood upon her push to aid the company in thriving. Despite her young age, Caitlyn ensured success in almost every operation she had conducted, her performance exceeding that of any previous CEOs, dare you say even her mother. That only brought up the wavering question that clashed within your head for so long, conflicting in a scrape of your thoughts against each other upon pondering why you felt so anxious around her.

Of course you hadn’t developed a crush on your superior. That would be stupid, not to mention unprofessional.

“You may come in now.”

Her voice snapped you out of your daze in a split second, your eyes flitting upward quickly to fix on her staring you down through the glass door, fingers intertwined in one another with her elbows planted on the desk as her chin rested atop her hands. You cleared your throat as your foot struggled to step forward toward the glass door, inching forward at a near frozen pace with the nonexistent weight of your tense muscles pushing back to prevent you from moving any further.

In one quick motion, you shouldered past the glass swiftly, hand grasping along the cool golden metal of the handles as you pushed the door open with the utmost care, watching your every little movement upon entering her office. You didn’t want to upset her by clumsily breaking anything, that was for sure. Caitlyn’s arms rested along the smoothed spruce of the table, pushing aside the sprawled out papers scattered along her desk in nearly every corner. Drags of black ink were sketched out along each sheet in thin strokes of her cursive writing on each page organized into neat margins.

Caitlyn extended her hand to gesture you into the swiveling leather chair situated before the desk walled before you two, seemingly examining your every little movement as you seated yourself into the opposing cushion of diamond-patterned black leather. Saying you were nervous was an understatement. Although you admired her from afar, close quarters interactions with her always sent you spiraling into a thick tunnel of apprehension, frequently holding your tongue before speaking any word at all.

What were you here for? Were you in some sort of trouble? Had you messed up something in the midst of your work? Seriously- could she just wipe that stern look off her face and tell you already-!?

“(Name), I believe I should simply be upfront with you. I don’t feel like dragging on a meeting to notify you of something so simple.” She pointed out, grabbing your attention as you slightly cocked your head to the side in curiosity. Drawing in a breath, her fingertips tapped along the pen situated to her right, rolling it back and forth along her index finger idly as those sharp swirls of blue bore into your frame. She straightened herself up immediately, dragging down the lapels of her blazer brushing along her tie.

“I’d like you to be my executive secretary, as I..don’t currently have one right now.”

Her abrupt statement was only followed by her exhaling as her gaze averted to the floor aligned with her desk. As if she was refraining from elaborating upon any further details. Typical. You didn’t expect much uttered from the lips of the refined woman after all, just her usual gestures as a sort of quick in and out with business.

With a complacent nod, you carefully withdrew your hands from the spruce desk, palms smoothing along the chiseled edge to roll your chair back and make space for you to stand upright to your full height.

“I..am grateful you consider me worthy. Thank you, Ms. Kiramman.” You replied, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact with your boss’s scrutinizing gaze drilling over, likely fumbling along the possibilities of what could go wrong with you serving as such. Caitlyn blinked for a brief moment, flicking her hand away in a gesture to brush you out of her office. Not exactly a rude gesture, yet one that signed you to leave her sight.

—

“Having trouble with something?”

Your voice caught the navy blue haired woman’s attention, her lips pursing inward as her perplexed expression irradiated within the shines of gentle, pale light from the lamp neatly lit at the corner of her desk. Caitlyn hummed in response with a tiny smile curving up her cheekbones lifting along her face. Recently, you had grown quite fond of her as opposed to your time preceding your position as her secretary, often exchanging as much as a smile with the CEO and engaging in casual conversation—sometimes even outside of work hours.

Simply put, you’ve gotten close to Caitlyn over the course of these few months in your position that kept you at her side. You often basked in the comfort of those little moments that flared a spark of warmth burning inside you when you were beside her, losing yourself in the sweet melody of her laugh residing as the only thing that stuck in your head. Finding yourself utterly fixated on random features of her whenever you’d hang out in a friendly manner after work, it was always a gamble at which what you’d choose to fixate on.

Maybe her neatly combed hair waved down past her shoulders, the volumized tint of dark blue like a deep ocean in the depths of midnight. Or perhaps the lighter blue of her eyes? They complimented her nose- and her smile too. Hell, even the small gap between her two front teeth that caught you in a trance whenever she did smile. Probably her hands?

You couldn’t choose. You liked looking at all of her, honestly.

Oh, but of course only as a friend. Your company would go to shit if you were to get into romantic territory with the literal CEO. Of course only is a friend, is what you’d keep telling yourself.

Caitlyn clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth as her eyes narrowed across the various sheets across her desk, flickering to her laptop occasionally as she kept her sights on one paper in particular with strokes of fancy writing and a red little thread at the end, a signature splotched along the bottom like an invitation of sorts. You blinked, noticing the little parched envelope splayed open, the red wax seal sitting between the tip of the fold and the center chipped apart, broken with the two ends able to fit together.

“An invite?” You inquired, resting an elbow against her chair as you bent over to skim along the neat arrangement of words in its request to some sort of hall banquet. She circled her thumb along the smoothed creases of the unfolded page, her silence uttering volumes of her hesitance to attend such an important, yet occupying event that would interfere with the initial plans she had arranged in her schedule.

“I’m not sure if I can attend…but at the same time not doing so would skip out on an opportunity. Considering the amount of wealthy investors we could have at the banquet that potentially serve as benefits to our own company.”

You bit your bottom lip in acknowledgment of the situation, opening your mouth to speak before Caitlyn’s words persisted in an unusual undertone of panic.

“Yet- there’s so many arrangements I planned to do on the day, so much work I planned to get done. I can’t possibly fit the stuff I need to do for the next day with keeping things going smoothly.”

Hand pressed flat to her shoulder, you attempted to deliver a comforting squeeze past the ridged shoulders of her blazer, albeit a bit hesitantly as you were still in a professional environment. Thankfully, Caitlyn didn’t find it in herself to keep up the front of her usual stern self, lulling her head against the headrest of her seat as her hand rested atop your own, occasionally tracing against the bumps of your knuckles on the dorsal side of your hand.

“I think you should go. You’ll find a way to fit everything. Besides, this is a a one time opportunity, no?”

Caitlyn’s eyebrows furrowed to contemplate your words, skidding her hands along the desk to take the pen in her grasp as she dwelled on your reasoning before settling on a resolute conclusion with your words into account.

“Perhaps you’re right. Not just for the investors, but just because everyone deserves to unwind probably.”

You stifled an amused huff, before quickly attempting your mask your smile, to which you failed. She peeked over at your uplifted features, responding with her own exhale in a feather light tone.

“Is something funny, (Name)?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow and unable to hide her own grin.

“Nope. I’ve just..never got the chance to mess with you outside of work.”

Caitlyn shook her head as her chin lifted to push the letter off to the side in a discard pile of papers she already read, setting down the pen squeezed between her clasped fingers in front of her. After shuffling through another paper or two, she tightened her hands around both sides of the stack and let it drop into aligning vertically to set it in a neat tower of sheets once more.

“Then shall we go out somewhere again? To ease your mind a little outside of our professional setting?”

Your lashes nearly blurred your vision as you nearly melted in her smooth voice, slick like glistening honey consuming all five senses into a trance that only left you thinking of Caitlyn.

“I think I’d like that.”

—

Well, judging from the months that passed, the party certainly wasn’t what you expected. A banquet hall booked in a lavish hotel. Alright.

The gentle atmosphere of faint gold diffused from the crystal chandelier hung on the towering ceiling left its mark upon every corner of the hall, its dull glow dwelling upon the red carpets and white cloth draped over the rounded tables. You awkwardly huddled in less populated spot beside a table situated to the left of the corridor, nurturing the glass of red wine huddled between your slippery hands, held to your chest.

Specks of wine sloshed around in the confines of the wine glass, staining the clean midpoint with deep red drops trickling back down to pool into the beverage you had only sipped once or twice. You swiftly adjusted your tie hanging below the folds of your collar, the bottom masked by your buttoned up blazer, as you didn’t want anyone judging you for being unkempt for so much as a stray hair strand sticking out.

Your shoulders rolled back as you found your gaze settling onto Caitlyn in the distance, a wave of relief putting you at ease upon seeing a familiar face apart from the managers of your company—whom of which you didn’t have too close of a relationship with. If you’re being honest, you didn’t even know they existed until recently. Maybe you should join her? You were her secretary, so if she was negotiating you should be there to listen in to important affairs as well.

Yet the moment you came remotely close to the vicinity to which crowds of elegant, refunded people stood circles around her, you quickly scrabbled back to a safe distance, keeping yourself far from the chatter and bellowing laughter flooding the clearing. That alien sensation twisting at your chest returned once more clouded your judgement in a thick fog, lingering within you ever since the party began whenever your view consisted of Caitlyn with another person. Especially any of those businesswomen that got weirdly touchy with her.

You scoffed, attempting to internally cut away those strings of jealousy tugging and squeezing at your heart in as if treating you garrote the beating muscle thumping against your chest. Squeezing the neck of the wine glass between your thumb and forefinger, your scrunched up expression could only be shrouded behind the swirling, thin layer of burgundy spilling past your lips and seeping onto your tongue.

“Ah, my secretary? She’s right there.”

Snapping your head over to the direction of your boss’s familar voice, accompanied by the easily classy accent rolling off her tongue you could distinguish within seconds. Holding the wine glass in your palm, fingers snaked above the neck to hold the base of the cusp, you noticed Caitlyn gesturing you to come over. Of course, accompanied by the stares of several others examining your every little move from that moment. Hesitantly, you stepped over to her until you brushed shoulder to shoulder with her, tense under the eyes of many glancing over you.

“So, about the deal you had struck to invest?”

A middle aged woman strode forwards as she shouldered past the crowds of people, tutting as she seemed satisfied with both the CEO and her secretary inquiring about a deal.

“Right. If I’m being honest, I’m seeking a piece of your company. Not just a small share. $6 million. I want 60% ownership.”

Caitlyn’s eyes widened, your own expression matching hers at the ridiculous ‘deal’ she thought she could strike. You opened your mouth to protest, composing yourself to assert your objection to the preposterous idea that she proposed.

“Hold on. 6 million isn’t even remotely close to match such a high ownership amount. You are aware that we’re somewhere in the billions in terms of company worth?”

The other woman rolled her eyes, cigar twirling between her fingers as her teeth ground together, pretending to think over your objection.

“I believe I asked the CEO, not her secretary with a pretty face.”

“You’ll get the same answer from Cai- Ms. Kiramman.”

Your swift correction earned a flicker of surprise across the other woman’s features, taking a hit of her cigar in a cloud of an awful stench stemmed from the dusty grey cloud causing you to choke out a cough.

“Hm. You must be closely acquainted with the chief executive officer to address her by her first name. Don’t tell me, you didn’t actually earn that position of yours?”

Your mouth nearly ran dry at her implications, horrified. You tried to alleviate the situation by speaking up. Saying something, anything. But she just kept going.

“Oh, Ms. Kiramman. What have I told you of ranking up those who aren’t qualified? If we’re talking about any other low company she would’ve been the CEO herself by now based off of the other services she could provide-“

“I advise you shut your fucking mouth.” Caitlyn bristled, the entire hall going dead silent at her foul words hissing through her teeth as she folded her arms. Her contorted expression of vexation remained glued to her face as she continued to speak, nearly making the other woman’s cigar slip out of her hands and tumble along the floor.

“I very obviously won’t be even remotely inclined to accept your offer. Especially since you have the gall to request something so obviously designed to take advantage of someone you deem to have less experience than you.”

She sucked in a breath, pinching the bridge of her nose as everyone’s eyes now dulled onto her, to which she didn’t pay any mind to. Her fingertips grazed your wrist for a moment, before she balled her hand up to retract from the bliss she found in your touch.

“My secretary and I..will be heading to our respective rooms for the night.” She murmured quietly, her tone hushed as she kept her thumb and forefinger pinched on the bridge of her nose.

Upon leading you to the front desk, you could only follow behind her in mindless motions as every word spoken after only registered as a soundless ring of translated into a high pitched buzz. Your blood ran cold with each lingering step shadowed behind you when you followed Caitlyn to the door of your hotel room, blinking as you were finally able to ground yourself back into reality the minute you set foot into the hotel room.

Gaze lingering in awe upon each piece of lavish decor furnished along the stands and shelves lined in gold frequently, you paused as you took in the sight of Caitlyn seated on the bed in front of you, blazer carelessly hanging off the edge of the couch’s armrest as she stared at the carpet with her legs crossed over one another.

“We’re staying in the same hotel room?”

She nodded, not even bothering to look up at you.

“Sorry. I should’ve confirmed whether you were okay with it.”

“No- no..it’s fine. I just- thought you might prefer some privacy.”

Caitlyn shook her head, eyes fixed down on her lap as her hands planted back onto the bed. Her tie loosely hung down her chest as she carefully reached one hand over to undo the ponytail that held her hair up, allowing the spills of dark blue to cascade down her shoulders before raising the same hand up to smooth out the front part of her hair. You only swallowed as your weight creased down on the bed as well, comfortably seating yourself onto the mattress next to her.

Was it just you, or did her lips look nicer today?

Of course with that exhaustion you withheld from drawling out throughout the whole party, you slurred the thoughts manifested into words, slipping right out like it was nothing.

“Your lips look beautiful today.”

You weren’t drunk. Not even close. Yet the way you let your front falter in the setting between the two of you, sharing the same room on the same bed—made you feel drunk off her presence alone. Intoxicated by the leash this woman practically had on you, not even voluntarily exerting her control over you, yet you offered yourself up to her embrace that engulfed you like a storm. Allowing yourself to crave the way you relished in your desire for Caitlyn.

And Caitlyn only.

Caitlyn rose an eyebrow to process the words you had just spoken, her hands drifting over to settle on her lap.

“Sorry? (Name)…I don’t think I heard you properly.”

You were tired. Tired of pretending you didn’t like…or rather love, this woman. Tired of letting the pesky environment of work, the facade of ‘professionalism’ shove back the feelings you held for her. Tired of using the excuse that she’s your boss when the two of you were clearly more than just boss and secretary outside of work.

You were tired of pretending you weren’t in love with Caitlyn.

“I said what I said..I’m so sick of pretending. Cait, I’m..sorry if this is abrupt. I love..”

Running your fingers through your scalp, you struggled to speak, taking note of how she uncrossed her legs and leaned in to give you her full attention. Her eyelids drooped into a sort of dreamy look of infatuation boring into you, reaching over to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, to which you nearly flinched due to the heat radiating off your cheeks.

“You were saying?”

You couldn’t even say what you wanted to, now stuttering words into incoherent vowels as meangingless noises drew out of you like a malfunctioning machine. Rolling your shoulders back, you couldn’t even begin to fathom the feverish warmth that crawled up your your neck to your jawline as Caitlyn leaned her body forward, practically forcing you to not break your gaze with her as her lips ghosted over yours, only a few centimeters away.

“That you were in love with me?”

Either your heart completely stopped, or rapidly beat faster, and you couldn’t put your finger on which one it is. Shallow breaths escaped your lips as you caught a glimpse of Caitlyn’s pupils dilate for a split second, to which you brushed off as nothing but a hallucination. You dragged your bottom lip between your teeth, pursing your lips inward away from her, no matter how badly you wanted to lunge in for a kiss right then and there.

Caitlyn expelled a noise similar to a scoff, slipping her slender pointer finger below your chin to tilt your head up.

“Don’t do that. How else am I going to kiss you?”

That was more than enough to allow your lower lip to slide past your teeth back to their original position, unable to keep up with the fleeting, sudden change of pace as you felt soft flesh collide against your own. Locking both of your lips together as she hugged them in a fervent embrace, fingers dancing along your waist as her hand pressed flat against the fabric cloaking your ribcage. You couldn’t help the shrill whimper that you gasped out as Caitlyn impatiently fumbled with the buttons of your blazer, holding your shoulders to help you shrug off the article of clothing, yet not allowing you to break away from her lips fit snug against yours.

Heat crept along every inch of your skin in the ardent pursuit of your desire that Caitlyn had wrapped you in, her gentle sighs fanning along your lips as her fingers prodded and squeezed at various parts of your torso, even finding their way to slip beneath your bra and knead at the soft mounds of flesh occasionally as if her hands had a mind of their own. Upon pulling back, her eyes raked along your disheveled body, already so spent from a mere kiss.

“Cait..” you breathed out, leaning back as you kept your eyes locked on her tall stature towering before you, breath catching in your throat upon noticing the blue haired woman lift her shirt over her head to loom over you with that distinct fury of passion soaring within the pools of cerulean within her eyes.

“I was hoping you’d say it first. Glad my wish came true.” She chuckled, leaning her body over yours, hands planted firmly on either side of your body. Only this time, you weren’t nervous, nor did you pull away. You only wrapped your arms around her neck, touching your nose to hers as you allowed your vulnerability to be laid out on display, exposed to her as you knew you shared the seem feeling of entangling affection with Caitlyn.

“Gods...I love you, Cait. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, (Name). I can’t take hiding it anymore.”

Once more, both of you closed the little distance there was into yet another heated kiss, pressing your bare chest to hers as the warmth of your hands rested on her shoulders, both of your tops discarded at on the side of the bed atop the hotel room carpet. Her moans muffled against your swollen lips, hand desperately shuffling against the pearly skin of her back to unclasp her bra as you were met with Caitlyn’s lips grazing along your neck. To which you rolled your head back in hopes of providing more ease for her to kiss your throat.

Her sharp inhales jerked in rapid successions along the lining of your neck trailed to your collarbone, teeth occasionally tugging to leave faint blooms of red which she immediately dragged her tongue over to remedy as an apology. The two of you remained pressed to each other firmly, no space harbored between your bodies as you allowed yourself to surrender to the affection that swelled within you for her, spiking along every fiber in your body like a hypnotizing nectar that left you in a trance in her mercy. Only that, you weren’t hypnotized. No. You wanted her all to yourself.

You simply basked in the endearment of her touch gliding along your skin like a sacred dance, a touch she reserved for only you to feel as she nipped at your collarbone almost pathetically, yet maintaining the firm front. Quite a different side you allowed yourself to see of your boss, the side of her which you had the luxury to embrace behind closed doors.

“Can I..? Please, (Name).”

“Do whatever you please. I just want you right now.”

Caitlyn sat up, glancing over at the wine glass and tall bottle of Romanée-Conti wrapped up in a silk white bow. Looks like they wanted to accommodate the guests with a beverage as well. And an expensive one at that. Quickly, she was able to split open the lid with ease in a hurry, as if she was desperately rushing her way to chug the wine. Your hand rested on her forearm as your dull, yet ardent gaze eased her to go slow, your silence speaking volumes of your emphasis on the time you two had.

She exhaled through her nose, a smile quirking up one of her lips as she fumbled for the glass near the bedside table, allowing the deep red swirled with a tint of purple-ish tones around the rim waterfall to the middle of the cup. Screwing the lid back on with one hand, she carefully set the bottle back on the edge of the bed, before she quickly dropped her weight before you, earning a small ‘oof.’

Her thighs straddled either side of your waist, hand snaked beneath your chin to keep you in the grasp of her palm. You swore that she wanted like she wanted to devour you alive, transfixed intently on both your lips and chest with each rasped out gasp elicited from her.

“Open your mouth.” She commanded, immediately bringing the rim of the wine glass to your lips as she tilted your head back, keeping your head supported with her hand resting on the base of your neck. You slightly parted your lips, losing yourself in the rose-like bitterness of sweetness spilling down your chin, the drops of burgundy dribbling down your throat and trickling along the valley of your breasts.

Pulling away the wine from you abruptly, she downed the remaining before grasping the bottle once more, repeating the consumption of alcohol for the two of you atleast two or three more times before deeming herself satisfied. Of course, despite not being entirely hammered, you still found yourself a little lightheaded, vision blurring together for a moment as you took in Caitlyn’s flushed face directly in front of yours.

Even in the flurry of drunken feelings that supposedly fogged up your head, you knew full well you still craved her.

You could barely even process anything when the CEO disrobed before you almost entirely, kicking off her dark trousers to reveal the contrasting white of her panties stuck to her cunt from the slick accumulated against the fabric. To be completely honest, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t equally, if not more soaked than she was. After all, you were laying with your back flat against the bed, so deeply bonded and about to make love to the woman of your dreams.

“Do you think you can handle all my weight?”

You sat up a little, confused, before your face practically sparked to the temperature of a flame at the realization, managing a flustered nod. In moments, you could only watch in awe as she peeled off the damp cloth covering her pussy, her movements agonizingly slow.

Barely able to to respond to the alluring sight before you, you were cut off by her leering over as she inclined to meet her nose with yours, her body fully shoved up to yours.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself latching your mouth onto her clit as your back lay flush to the plush mattress, wallowing in the flurry of Caitlyn’s moans wrenching out of her throat as your tongue prodded at her slit to trace up and down, drinking up every drop of her essence dribbling down your chin with each obscene squelch of your tongue pulsing against her hole.

Her hoarse gasps slipped past her parted lips, back arching as her hips rolled forward against your mouth, your noises muffled against her cunt. Caitlyn’s breath caught in her throat as your tongue slipped down to attend to her folds, lapping at the velvety texture like a starved woman, as if every moan that ripped out of her was a prize you gained from the work you spent eating her cunt as her weight pressed against your face.

“Don’t…stop..”

You stifled a whine against her lubricated skin, fingers digging into her thighs to hoist her further apart, leaving a kiss on her thigh or a small reddened bruise periodically to look up at Caitlyn’s face, her head tipped back in bliss as her eyes squeezed shut with each drag of your tongue along her cunt, streams of her juices dribbling down your chin not too long after. Her chest heaved up and down, dusted in a pretty pink as she crawled off of you weakly, head lulling against your lower abdomen.

Reaching a hand out, you attempted to gain a lazy feel of her tits from below, to which you were immediately denied, her hand holding your wrist with a gentle smile juxtaposing her harsh curl on your wrist.

“Not yet.”

A perplexed expression crossed your face, before immediately widening your eyes at the foreign intrusion. You bit back a guttural moan as Caitlyn’s fingers slid past your own slick cunt, knuckles ridged along the throbbing walls of your cunt clenching around her. You drawled out in a chorus of drunken moans pouring out of you, alongside the overwhelming pools of slick puddles between your thighs to stain the sheets, eyes rolling back in ecstasy with each push of her fingers curling in your pussy.

You buried your face in her shoulder, eyes rolling back past your closed eyes as her palm ground against your clit with each controlled thrust, her repeated motions only drowning you in the pleasure of her warmth intertwined with yours.

“Fuck-! Cait-! Love you-! I love you I love you I love you!”

Your words drawled out as an incoherent plea, the utter pleasure her fingers plunged into you bundling closer and closer to the edge with your muscles tightening, as her movements grew more intense as you neared your inevitable orgasm.

…

“Mm..what time is it?” You whispered, peeking out at the slivers of moonlight illuminated in small streaks past the red curtains as you sat up from Caitlyn’s arms tightened around you like a vice, holding you against her chest.

The navy blue haired woman sat up beside you, groggily rubbing her eyes as she pulled you closer against her. “Uhm..I’d say around 2 a.m. I assume?”

You flopped back down into her arms, earning a soft laugh from her as your eyes fixed on the gap between her teeth. Nuzzling into Caitlyn’s shoulder, your hands flew back down to her waist, dragging the covers back over you two with your foot hoisting the thick blankets to cover your bare bodies.

“What about work tomorrow?”

“What about it, my darling (Name)?”

“Well, is this going to be an issue or-“

“Love, don’t worry about that. At all. Just rest, forget about the company for now, because that’s definitely what I’m doing in this moment.”

You smiled, cuddling up to her as your eyelids drooped and your body eased into the comfort of her touch, falling into the hold of Caitlyn’s affection.

Just keep yourself in the arms of the woman you love right now.

Everything’s going to turn out fine.

A/N: WHY AM I GETTING SO EMBARRASSED WRITING NSFW RECENTLY HOLY SHIT anywayyyy I have mixed feelings about this some parts were good some were complete ass but overall this is okay yes yippee

also yes, I based it off this edit by @glittrdust. on tiktok.

Anyway goodnight I’m TIRED I had awful writers block and my mental dictionary flew away while writing this omfg

ALSO HELP I SAVED THE END AND MY HEART DROPPED FOR A SEC BC IT SAID I DELETED THE DRAFT BUT THABK GOD I DIDNT I HAD A MINI HEART ATTACK OMFG

also no I’m not cheating on my beloved mizu with the other blue eyed wasian i love mizu im writing for her next again

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gtgbabie0 · 14 days ago

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synopsis: {You find yourself under a very stressed, overworked Sherif!Caitlyn’s desk}

Holy horny wtf. !!-18//MDNI-!!

warnings: g!pcaitlyn mean!caitlyn assistant!reader hair pulling rough blowjob ‘puppy’ ‘slut’ dacryphilia smut no plot.

You don’t have a backbone. You’re far too obedient, to a fault really. Maybe the blame wasn’t completely on you— I mean what woman in their right mind would ever refuse to get on her hands and knees for Piltovers Sheriff? None other than the Caitlyn Kiramman herself. You were lucky.

You knew you were lucky it didn’t take a damn rocket scientist to read the looks of jealousy everyone shot at you in the department— seething at the fact you got special treatment, to be the assistant of Topside's finest shot and god did you absolutely drink it up, sometimes in the literal sense, like now for example.

Pathetically whimpering around the thickness of her cock— spit and cum foaming at the corners of your lips as Caitlyn’s fingers tighten in your hair, urging you deeper into her crotch until your nose was nestled into that dark patch of hair. You can take more of her, she knows you can. It’s not the first time you’ve kneeled in between her thighs, tucked under her work desk after a long day of paperwork.

“That’s it— such a pretty mouth.” Her accent is heavier, rougher around the edges in a half-assed attempt at holding back those moans you’re trying so desperately to pull out from her. “Oh— fuck, s’mine— that little mouth belongs to me, huh?”

“Mmhm!— yours.” Your sounds are muffled around her cock, the vibrations causing her to tug a little sharper at your locks which only makes you moan and her seethe, suddenly pulling you back— the emptiness in your mouth has you whimpering in protest, brows all furrowed.

“Fucking watch it, slut.” Caitlyn snaps, dark eyes narrowed into mean slits— glaring down at you as she drags her thumb over the slick, pillowy flesh of your bottom lip, collecting the filthy mix of spit and cum and pushing it back into your overly eager mouth. “Or I’ll find another cock-sleeve, you don’t want that do you?” Her threat pierces something deep inside you, because what were you without her, without this?!

You’re immediately shaking your head, looking up at her from where you’re kneeling on the hardwood floor, hidden beneath her dark mahogany desk, through thick— wet lashes all pleadingly like some neglected puppy. “Uh-uh! no— no, I’ll do better!” shiny lips pouting, “I swear!”

Caitlyn doesn’t know whether she wants to keep pushing, just to see you spill a few tears or to soothe you. Oh, you make it so hard for her. Painfully hard.

She presses the tip of her cock against your mouth, rubbing the sticky pre-cum over your lips as you wait so patiently for her command— “Go on, take it like a good puppy.”

Your eyes light up, fingertips digging into her toned thighs as you take her length back into your mouth with the help of her guiding hands that were nothing but rough— forcing the head of her cock to the back of your throat until your gagging around her, those pretty little tears finally trickling down your cheeks— making her throb in your mouth.

And you— in all your eagerness to make her cum— let her do it again until she’s bobbing your head up and down by the roots of your hair along her shaft to feel each stroke of the wet heat that is your mouth, the way your tongue twitches beneath the heaviness of her cock, how your cheeks hollow out around her. “Want my cum puppy— fuck— huh?” She pants, looking down at you with a smirk, “Gonna take it all down that pretty little throat f’me, yeah?”

You gargle some incoherent nonsense, salvia dribbling down your chin, staring up at her with those wide glossy eyes— practically begging her to shoot her load into your mouth. Caitlyn knows you want it more so by the way your throat bobs, your hips grind and how those freshly manicured nails nip into her thighs— she could only imagine how soaked you were, the fabric your panties drenched. The thought of how easily she could slip into that tight cunt of yours nearly sends her right off the edge.

“Oh— fuckin’ take it, puppy.” She groans, her hips bucking carelessly into your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of her head at the feeling of you moaning around her— “Such a good cum-slut all for her Sheriff.”

Caitlyn’s head tips back against her chair, “Fuck— gonna cum— m’gonna— ah— ah fuck.” a strangled noise rips from the back of her throat, whining, as she empties herself down your throat, her cock twitching in your hot mouth. Her fingers tightening into the roots of your hair as you take her load— drinking up every last drop of her hot sticky cum, feeling it trickle down your chin thickly.

Her gaze flutters back down to you— loving how absolutely debauched you look, hair a mess, eyes all watery, cheeks tear stricken. Her own personal fuck toy. She pulls you back, thumb caressing over your jaw soothingly and you don’t stop yourself from leaning into her palm needily. “Look at you, such a pretty puppy.” Her fingertips graze over your chin, collecting her cum back up only to smear it over your glossy lips, her eyes darkening in awe— “So fucking pretty.”

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ffiolette · 4 months ago

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CAITLYN KIRAMMAN TWT LINKS

INCLUDES— wlw, making out, groping, nipple/breast play, tribbing, grinding, usage of toys (eg. vibrator, strap), clit play, fingering, cunnilingus.

WARNINGS— 21 links, all of these videos are for afab readers, don't like don't read/watch, make sure to be logged into twt/x beforehand, if some of the links stop working please lmk !

dom!cait overstimulating her pretty girl with one of her toys

fingering cait and making her shake like this

getting back at cait with another of her fancy toys

eating cait's pussy for the first time

cait playing with your nipples

just "making out" with bsf!cait

cait torturing you with her toys pt2

playing with bsf!cait's pretty pussy after finishing your skincare together

taking cait's strap for the first time

cait teasing you

playing with cait's boobies

fingering cait after she's had a long day at work

cait rubbing your pussies together

sucking on caitlyn's tits

cait taking the lead

showering with cait and accidentally getting distracted

you saw cait in her pretty nightgown and just couldn't help yourself

admiring her ass while she sits on your strap

edging cait like this

pt2 of cait in her pretty red nightgown

you and cait getting a little carried away while choosing your outfits for the day

ffiolette

#𐙚 ffiolette #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn kiramman smut #caitlyn arcane smut #caitlyn smut #arcane p links #p links #twitter links #arcane smut #arcane season 2 #arcane show #league of legends #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn x you #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn kiramman x you

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interneteclipse · 5 months ago

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cait x VB

inspired by this pic of me in the summer !

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vemathie · 3 months ago

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warnings: smut (mdni), power dynamics, free-use, domestic kink, housewife!reader.

being caitlyn's free-use housewife and letting her do whatever she damn well pleases. doesn't matter the time or the place. though caitlyn gets so fucking wet specially when she comes home to find you in the kitchen, cooking for her in your little apron like some picture-perfect 1950s wife. it’s almost unfair how much she loves you—adores you, really.

and you turn her on so easily. it's kinda your fault that she can't keep her hands off you. she loves how you don't complain—never push her away. you just part your legs like the obedient little thing you've always been, letting her plunge those long, deft fingers into your wet pussy.

because your body knows her. pavlovian-level shit and all that. the second you hear the front door open, the rhythmic click of her boots against the polished floor, your pussy practically starts leaking in anticipation. caitlyn's noticed that, she notices every little thing about you.

it's fucking magical. divine. you’re her gift after the shitstorm that is her life lately, and she’s damn well going to enjoy you.

her fingers push deeper into you, hitting that sweet little spot that makes you jump. little gasps, moans, whimpers tumble out of you like it's the only thing you know how to do. she doesn’t wanna stop hearing them, not ever.

makes her chest all warm and proud, as she drags in and out, in and out her long pale fingers that your pussy loves so, so much. greedy little thing always clinging to her, like you're built for this and nothing else.

“that's it, darling,” she murmurs, her lips grazing your flushed cheek as her icy blue eyes drink you in—parted lips, lids heavy, hands gripping the counter so tight your knuckles turn white. and she keeps going, her fingers curling, dragging out those sweet, broken little sounds that she could live off forever.

#𐔌 . ⋮ vemathie .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱#˙ . ꒷ 🫁 . 𖦹˙—eva writing #caitlyn kiramman smut #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn kiramman x reader #arcane #caitlyn kiramman x you #this is sooo self-indulgent #i just wanna be her housewife 😵‍💫😵‍💫

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nopartythisdoor · 12 days ago

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Be good for the boss

contains: amab!caitlyn, ceo!caitlyn, degrading, praise, smut, blowjob.

————————————————————————

How bad could it be? You, a 23-year-old woman, work at a company. But no—not just any company, of course not. It’s the Kirammans company, led by none other than Caitlyn Kiramman.

It’s safe to say you’ve fallen in love with your boss. You’d never tell her—not in a million years would you risk that—would you?

This morning is the same as the day before and the other 168 days you’ve worked for her. Except today, you decide to leave a subtle hint, opening the top two buttons of your white blouse that matches your black, tight skirt. Suffice it to say, you look like any hot office siren.

You arrive at work and make tea for the Kiramman woman, as any good assistant would. Though only you have ever memorized exactly how she likes her tea.

Caitlyn quickly arrives at the office, pulling off her heavy black coat and swinging it over her chair. “Good morning,” she greets with a soft smile, trying really hard to keep her eyes where they should be—meeting yours.

“Good morning, Miss Kiramman. Sleep well?” You can’t help yourself. It’s not your fault that you want to find out a little more about her personal life, other than the fact that the posh woman is practically in love with tea. So British.

“Relatively, I was buried in reports.” A soft chuckle escapes her lips as your head tilts slightly. “How about resting once?” You can’t help but murmur.

She looks at you—you expect her to be mad, but she isn’t. Her gaze is still soft—almost solemn.

“I do sleep, maybe not enough, but I try.” Her gaze never leaves yours as you nod in acknowledgment. You do know she works her ass off daily, but she deserves a rest—maybe even something as simple as a drink at a bar.

“Why don’t I treat you after the shift?” You prepare for her usual 'That’s inappropriate, isn’t it? ' but—it never comes. Instead, “I suppose it couldn’t be too bad. To relax, just once,” rings through your ears.

Your smile spreads across your face, making your eyes almost squint. Caitlyn lets out a chuckle as she sees the happiness on your face.

She does feel the same, even if her face doesn’t show it. She has a trained poker face.

Throughout the day, you stick to Caitlyn’s side as always. Making her tea and serving it with her favorite biscuits (as she calls them). While bringing her the reports she asked for, you lean down over her desk, arching your back slightly and bending just enough for her to get a clear view of your cleavage, as she feels herself getting hard.

You notice her gaze, but you don’t speak on it. Instead, you smile at her and meet her ocean-blue eyes again.

"Anything else I can do for you, boss?” Your damn smirk. The problem with that smirk is that Caitlyn doesn’t want to punch it off—she wants to kiss it off.

"No, that’ll be fine. Just take a seat until I finish these papers. It won’t take long.” She gestures to the couch next to her desk. Her voice is soft—so polite and dripping sweet, like honey.

You nod approvingly and obey her, sitting down on the couch. Caitlyn smiles to herself at your obedience. “Good girl.” She smiles, not even realizing how her words affect you—because you blush and feel heat flowing through your body. Though you act fine, smiling at her, the blush is clearly visible.

You sit still, eyes tracking every single movement of your CEO. Her hands are smooth, slender and long. They work incredibly precise, as you watch you try not to let your mind wander off more about her hands— get that out of your head— but they'd probably feel so good— stop!

"Are you sure you dont need help-"

"Come here." Caitlyn interrupts as she is patting her lap, signaling for you to sit down.

You quietly obey— you always would.

You sit down on her lap and feel her member poking against your thighs. "Boss i-" Caitlyn is quick to shush you with a hand against your mouth, looking you in the eyes.

You feel yourself getting wet by her simple actions— already leaving a damp spot on your lacy underwear. You notice her gaze drifting away from your eyes but down to your cleavage. You take the oppurtunity to tease her, "Oh this is what all this is about?"

You smirk at her.

"As if you didnt do it on purpose." She nothing but groans, latching her lips onto your neck. "Admit it." Caitlyn growls against your neck, placing open mouthed kisses behind your ear, sucking every now and then.

"Y-Yeah i did..." You stammer, trying to hold back whimpers. You didnt want the whole office to hear now did you?

"Such a little slut huh? So desperate for this." You wouldnt admit it but her words turn you on— so much that its almost embarrassing.

You quickly move your hand up to your mouth to muffle a moan as you feel Caitlyn grinding up against you, her hands now gripping your waist.

"God you're so hot- fuck." Never have you ever heard your boss swear but how wouldnt she when she is rutting up against you like a dog.

You cant help yourself but moan as she continues to dry hump you and start to grind against her, matching the rythm. As you start to move Caitlyn lets out a low growl and suddenly you feel her kissing your chest, sucking and leaving hickies making you moan even louder.

"Need your mouth..." She whines— your boss whines for none other but you.

You climb off of her lap, sinking to your knees as you unbutton her pants. Dragging her pants down with her boxershorts, her member slapping against her clothed stomach.

You have to stop yourself from drooling at the sight, looking up at her through your thick lashes. "So big huh." You dont even state as a real question. She let her gaze fall onto you, mouth parting as you take her length into your hand, coating it with her own leaking pre-cum.

She lets out a low moan, her hand shooting up and holding herself by the forehead, this is the hottest sight you've ever seen.

You jerk her at a slow pace, slowly moving up and down until she really whines again, slowly parting your lips, looking up at her shamelessly. She moves her free hand ontop of your head, not to force you but to ground herself as you take in the tip. Its not long before you have her dick halfway into your mouth.

"All the way down for me, okay?" She pants out, and you obey. Taking her further in until you gag around her length, your nose touching her pubic bone. "Such pretty noises..." Caitlyn has found her liking in this and its too much for her own good as you start sucking her off at a rapid pace.

"Slow down- fuck i'll come fast if you keep going." She even warns you but you dont care, you continue until you feel her throb hard, seeing her muscles tense. You pull away until only her tip is in your mouth and move your hand to jerk her off rapidly, sucking her hard.

"Cum for me, boss." You say and so she does. Her cum painting your throat white, coming out in thick spurts and she moans. God she moans so unholy for the woman she usually is.

You keep on with your hand movement, slowly, helping her through her hard orgasm. Moving up again she looks at you, vulnerable but— she smiles.

"I wanted this for far too long." You admit looking her into the eyes as they bore into yours. "Me too." Her voice is almost a whisper but you know its true.

"I still want that date tho." Her smirk and the cocky attitude is back to its old ways and you cant help but chuckle. "I do too." You smile warmly and lean in for a kiss.

————————————————————————

Notes: Heyaa hope this was fine guys but tysm for the support on my last two posts🙂‍↕️ I've gotten a request for jinx so i'll probably do that next but it'll be my first time writing anything for jinx so i'll just try my best, no promises!

#caitlyn x reader #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn kiramman x you #caitlyn kiramman smut #wlw #caitlyn kiramman x female reader #arcane

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misaerabl · 2 days ago

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The Other Side of the Ring

CAITVI X READER

𝝑𝑒 reader as cait's mistress

CW: actress caitlyn, caitlyn and vi are married, you're caits mistress, older cait and vi, infidelity, power dynamics, voyeurism, consensual but very complicated relationships, not proofread SUMMARY: You’ve been Caitlyn’s mistress for a while now, and things have been going smoothly—until her wife, Vi, walks in. You scramble to cover up, ready for the fallout… but instead of being mad, Vi wants you to continue

part 1 - part 2 (smau)

The elevator hums softly as it climbs. Gold-lit interior. Mirror walls. Polished floors. Your reflection stares back at you, lips rouged, dress clinging like sin itself, a coat draped over to feign decency.

The silence is thick with guilt and anticipation—though by now, the guilt barely registers.

You've done this before.

Same time.

Same hotel.

Same keycard slipped into your purse with a text that never says her name. Just: Room 1907. Use the back elevator.

She never texts twice.

She doesn’t need to.

You check your lipstick in the mirror, fix the slight smudge at the corner of your mouth with a practiced finger. Your heart should be pounding—but it isn't. It’s steady. Familiar.

You’ve learned how to breathe in stolen moments.

Ding.

The doors slide open to the private floor. Her floor.

The hallway is quiet, lights low and warm. Room 1907 is at the end. You walk slowly, each step echoing against plush carpet, pulse rising just a little. Not from fear. From want. From knowing what’s behind that door.

You don’t knock.

The door’s already cracked open.

Your hand brushes it, pushes it inward, and she’s there.

Caitlyn.

Hair swept back like she’s just taken off her earrings. White silk shirt unbuttoned halfway. Black pants hugging her hips. A half-full glass of whiskey in one hand, gaze heavy with recognition in the other.

She says nothing.

She doesn’t have to.

She closes the door behind you with her foot, and the lock clicks into place.

“You came,” she says, voice low and threaded with something between relief and regret.

You slip the coat off your shoulders. “You asked.”

Caitlyn sets the glass down. Crosses the space between you with slow, deliberate steps. Her fingers skim your cheek, trace the edge of your jaw.

“You wore the dress I like.”

“You never asked me to stop wearing it.”

Her lips twitch, just barely. “I never will.”

And then she kisses you—quiet at first, like a secret. Like the beginning of something wrong that already went too far.

You let her.

Because if you’re the sin she keeps crawling back to...

You might as well be unforgettable.

Caitlyn kisses you like she’s starved. Not for sex—no, she could have that with anyone. She kisses you like she’s starving for the illusion of control, for the moments where she doesn’t have to be the polished, perfect wife.

Your lips break with a slick gasp as she spins you around, back pressing to the door she just locked. Her mouth is already on your neck, teeth grazing skin that’s too soft, too exposed. You tilt your chin up to give her more.

“I thought you were at a premiere,” you whisper, fingers in her hair. “Playing the doting wife.”

“I left early,” Caitlyn murmurs against your pulse. “She didn’t notice.”

You hum, but there’s venom under it. “Maybe she did. Maybe that’s why you’re shaking.”

Her fingers tighten on your hips.

“Don’t,” she says—low, sharp, almost pleading. “Don’t talk about her right now.”

You smirk against her jaw, knowing that line is your power. The thing that makes her unravel, every time.

“Then make me forget.”

That’s all it takes.

Your coat drops to the floor with a heavy thud, and she’s all over you—hands dragging your dress up, lips bruising yours, fingers trembling as they find the zipper behind your back. She doesn’t take her time. She never does when it’s like this.

Once you’re stripped bare, she takes a step back to look at you, breath heaving, eyes dark like thunderclouds.

“You’re too fucking beautiful,” she mutters, voice nearly cracking. “It makes me hate you.”

You walk her backward toward the bed with a lazy kind of grace, eyes locked on hers. “You don’t hate me.”

Caitlyn sits on the edge. You straddle her lap without hesitation, your legs on either side of her expensive slacks, bodies flush.

She kisses you again, deeper, messier—lipstick smearing, tongues fighting for space. Her hands slide along your thighs, then slip between them, fingers finding you already wet and wanting.

Her breath stutters.

You roll your hips against her palm, biting her lip until she groans into your mouth.

“You do this on purpose,” she gasps. “You come here knowing exactly what I need.”

You nod, lips brushing hers. “Because you never take it like you want it at home.”

She freezes for half a second, then slams you back onto the bed like you just challenged her pride.

Clothes peel away. Buttons snap. Her shirt’s barely off her shoulders before her mouth is back on your chest—biting, sucking, leaving marks where only you will see them.

“You want me to ruin you?” she mutters into your skin.

“I want you to remember who you ruin me for.”

That sets her off.

Caitlyn kisses her way down your body with deliberate, burning hunger. No hesitation. No sweetness. Just teeth on your hipbone, tongue sliding through slick heat, lips dragging across sensitive skin until you’re writhing beneath her, moaning into the crook of your arm to keep the neighbors from hearing.

She fucks you with her mouth like she’s angry. Like you’re her confession and her punishment all at once.

You come once and she doesn’t stop.

The second time is more of a sob. You fist the sheets. Her name, her real name—not a stage name, not a lie—spills from your lips like it’s been buried in your throat all week.

Caitlyn climbs back up your body, flushed and breathless, hand stroking your thigh like she owns you now.

You wrap your arms around her neck and drag her into another kiss, tasting yourself on her lips.

Then you pull away and whisper, “When are you going to stop pretending this is just sex?”

And she does what she always does.

She looks away.

You know she’s about to lie again—but she doesn’t get the chance.

Click.

The door unlocks.

The doorknob turns.

And both of you freeze—half-naked, tangled, breathless—as the hotel room door opens.

Soft click. A long pause.

You don’t move. Neither does Caitlyn. Her body is half over yours, her lips still swollen, her fingers still ghosting over your thigh.

You think—maybe she’ll think Cait left something here. Maybe she won’t look. Maybe—

“Cait?”

Vi’s voice cuts through the silence.

You scramble, grabbing for the sheets, pulling them over your chest like that can cover up the guilt soaking the room. Caitlyn’s hand is already gone from your skin. She doesn’t speak. Doesn’t even turn.

Vi walks in.

She looks tired. Still in her suit—tie loosened, jacket over one shoulder. There’s a beat where her eyes land on the pile of Caitlyn’s clothes. Then yours. Then Caitlyn herself, naked from the waist up, still between your legs.

And you. Flushed. Breathless. Marked.

The silence is strangling.

You open your mouth—maybe to apologize, maybe to run—but Vi just… laughs.

Not cruelly. Not even bitter.

A low, amused chuckle, like this was always going to happen.

“Well, damn,” she says. “Guess I was right.”

Caitlyn finally looks up. “Vi…”

Vi tosses her jacket to the chair by the window and steps further into the room.

“No,” she says calmly. “Don’t start lying now. I’m not here to scream, or throw shit, or cry. Just—keep going.”

You blink. “What?”

Vi shrugs. “I mean, clearly I walked in late. Don’t stop on my account.”

Caitlyn sits up. “Vi, this isn’t—”

“Isn’t what?” Vi cuts her off, voice still soft but firm. “Isn’t something you’ve been doing behind my back for months? Isn’t the same number I saw come up on your phone at 3 a.m.? Isn’t the reason you flinch when I kiss you too long?”

You don’t dare speak. You don’t even move.

Caitlyn’s mouth opens, then closes.

And Vi looks at you, really looks, for the first time.

Her eyes drag over your body—disheveled, wrapped in sheets, marked with Caitlyn’s lipstick and teeth. Her gaze lingers. There’s no disgust there. Not even jealousy.

Only… curiosity.

“You’re not what I expected,” Vi murmurs.

You swallow hard. “I didn’t mean for this to happen—”

Vi steps closer. “Maybe not. But you didn’t stop it either.”

Silence, heavy. Then she smirks—just a little.

“And neither did I.”

You glance between them, heart thudding in your throat.

“What are you saying?” Caitlyn finally whispers.

Vi slides her hands into her pockets. “I’m saying… maybe I don’t mind sharing, if it means I don’t lose you.”

Your mouth goes dry.

And then—her eyes flick to you again, dark with something unspoken.

“You up for that, pretty girl?” Vi asks, voice low. “Or do you only like fucking other people’s wives?”

The air shifts.

Caitlyn’s breath catches.

And you?

You don’t know if you’re about to fall… or fly.

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am-i-interrupting · 2 years ago

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hi hi hiii !!

idk if you're still doing requests for Arcane, but if you are, I'd love to see Ekko, Victor, Jinx (and any other characters of your choice) with an s/o that's really good with with kids? maybe they could be a teacher/ mentor or babysitter but just very much loving caregiver vibes for any and all kids they come across

Caitlyn

She loves seeing you with kids, in your element.

She thinks it’s cute to see the way kids hang onto your every word and the way you teach them without them even noticing.

She will pop in on you with kids carrying toys and games.

She does enjoy kids company as well and they do like her but maybe mostly because she’s an enforcer and she brings them toys.

Sometimes she’ll find herself watching you with a kid (especially if that kid looks like either one of you) and daydreaming about somewhere in the distant future where you two would have one of you own.

Ekko

He’s not the best with kids himself. He’s not bad by any means but he can find himself often freezing up and unsure what to do.

This caused him to find it fascinating how good you are with them when he finds himself floundering.

When the Firelights have to go on missions often times the ones who have kids will leave them with you.

Upon arriving back, he will spend a minute just watching you doting on the kids.

He is just so enraptured in everything you do and that includes your ability to form relationships with kids.

Jinx

There aren’t many kids in the areas Jinx grew up. Not too many parents are gonna bring their kids into what is now essentially a club.

The first time she saw you with a kid was one of the times you went outside together. She had stepped away from the kid crying on the street, her hand instinctively on her gun, and she got itchy when she saw you approach.

She didn’t say anything she just watched as you crouched down to the kid’s level and started calming them down.

Slowly but surely her hand on her gun went slack and she just watched you enthralled.

When you offered to walk the kid back home and they agreed and you started leading them to her, she just looked at them wide eyed as she cocked her head, her braids pooling on the ground as a result, and waved her hand.

The kid hid behind your leg but you reached out and grabbed her hand and slowly the kid got more comfortable around Jinx on the way to their house.

Later that night Jinx was tracing the seam lines on your shirt and asked you what you thought about kids.

Silco

He would find it amusing how good you are with kids that aren’t his.

It’s almost like he indulges in watching you with them but in an almost smug way as he is with everything.

Seeing you be good with Jinx though changes everything. It completely knocks him off his guard.

Watching you play with her and make her smile makes him soft.

If you’re there when Jinx is having a mental health moment, she’ll cling to you and beg you to make it stop while you do your best to calm her down.

The emotions he feels is a combination of sadness, sympathy, and oddly pride in those moments.

For other kids, he couldn’t care less about how you interact with them but when it’s his, it means the world to him.

Viktor

He’s not good with kids himself. Those pivotal years of learning to make connections were stolen from him because of his inability to do things so many others could and kids having a habit of being cruel, especially in the lanes.

Seeing you with kids is something like a case study to him.

He finds it fascinating and seems to almost take notes on what you’re doing.

He would never engage for the longest time with any kids that were under your watch unless they directly asked him questions.

Then one day, he just did and they adored him, not as much as they adored you but it was a close thing.

They would like him for the fact that he refuses to talk to them like they’re idiots and indulged them in their endless curiosity.

You find a notebook later on filled with things that you did around the kids (even something as small as your tone of voice) that made you realize he was mimicking what you did in his own way.

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lolitalovess · 1 month ago

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Behind closed doors.

sum: arranged marriage caitlyn kiramman x reader

warnings: this is short but i put my whole pussy into it, reader lowkey has issues, my girl cait does aswell, hardly proofread, INSANE lesbian yearning

you've always appreciated the way the kiramman manor looks at night, after the sun has lulled itself to sleep in orange hues and the moon is reborn - surrounded by black inc and a thousand stars visible through the large windows of you and your shared wife's room, the night-life of piltover with tall buildings and bright lights shown to your tired eyes from linen curtains pulled back.

it distracted you from how your back grew sore from your position of sitting against the headboard, and why you were here in the first place. you gazed down at your resting wife - she's gorgeous, with prussian blue hair fanning over her pillow and framing her face. you're jealous of her peace in her deep state of unconscious sleep the way her comforter is tucked to her chest and the way it rises and falls with every passing breath.

you had been sitting with your busy thoughts for far too long, you could hardly handle yourself anymore. you've never understood the purpose of getting married ever since you first learnt the term as a young girl. to know someone for a few years and finally like them enough to buy expensive rings and voice vowels to one another, which, most of the time, are bullshit.

but caitlyn kiramman, a woman full of so much dark blue woe and sorrow had just taken your heart, and it felt like a sin. was it? to find your arranged wife attractive, to yearn for her love, despite never showing affection or doing anything remotely intimate. it felt like it was.

the area surrounding you consisted of deafening silence like before, though you could swear that the dark shadows of the manor could morth into tall figurines watching you, especially the one heading toward you. you feel a wave of hotness manufactured out of pure anxiety travel through your body until you see azure blue eyes looking into yours with confusion and longing for your warmth next to hers in bed.

"i couldn't sleep." you speak quickly, voice soft in attempt to not ruin her peace. "go back to bed. it's too cold out here for you to just be wearing that robe."

she leaned her hip against the counter next to you, reaching her arms out for you as quickly as you started talking. it was almost like a hug, with her hands interlocking with eachother around your torso from the side, a small frown playing her lips while she studied the side of your face.

“can’t sleep or won’t sleep?” she asked softly, her accent slipping. she knew what it was like being up all night, in her own terms, alone with her thoughts in the empty felt rooms of the precinct. "go back to bed." you repeated, tilting your head to the side to rest it against her chest, which had her instinctively squeezing around her hands around your waist tighter to support you, enjoying the sight and feel of your body against hers. her hands on you would have you feeling like you were on fire if you weren't so tired. "i'll sleep in one of the guests."

it was a rare thing for the two of you to be physical, as much as it always bothered caitlyn how you would never stay close to her unless you needed something, felt unsafe, or was cold. otherwise, they would never touch, as much as your souls yearned for it. "nonsense," she spoke, her hands rubbing gentle circles against your side before speaking again, her deep voice soft and tender, not wanting to wake anyone up, or disturb her wife.

"sleep in the bed with me tonight. it'll be warmer." she added, taking a small step back as if it the action alone would convince you. the weight of your body being tugged along with her ever so slightly and gently had you focused on following her warmth and familiar smell of vanilla and lavender rather than pulling away.

the two of you stood in silence for a few minutes that felt like hours, the quiet beat of her heartbeat present in your ears whilst you felt sleep threatening to take over your conciousness. you knew you could fall asleep like this if you let yourself. "okay."

she was gently tugging you along with her out of the kitchen and back into the bedroom the moment you agreed, where the moonlight filtered through the slightly parted curtains that exposed the view from outside of the city, it was beautiful, even at night. the door was pushed open slowly and closed behind the two of you just as quickly, her feet taking herself to sit down on the edge of her familiar bed, swinging her long legs up and over to get completely on the bed once more. “come here,” she softly spoke as she patted the space next to her.

you complied at the soft demand from your wife, beginning to walk over to the bed opposite side of the bed, the silk covers pulled over your legs and to your waist after you settled. you felt the comforting action of sleep clouding your mind like every other night, the familiar feel of your jade wedding ring cold around your finger.

maybe caitlyn wasn't so bad.

the lesbian yearning goes crazyy... not gonna lie this concept has been in my drafts for AWHILE and i really enjoyed writing something that wasn't vi and smut for once 😭 might do another part to this, lmk what you think and want ♡

#caitlyn kiramman #arcane #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn kiramman x you #caitlyn x reader arcane #caitlyn x you #caitlyn x y/n #i want her children.#i need to wife her up soo bad you don't get it #♡

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plum-coke · 4 months ago

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oh 😭

#lesbian #lesbians #wlw #caitvi x reader #caitvi #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #vi arcane #arcane #zootopia #judy hopps #nick wilde #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn kiramman x you #vi x caitlyn #vi x reader #vi x you #vi x y/n

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r3starttt · 2 months ago

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CAITLYN X YOUNGER READER

CW: hc's. requests. mentions of spitting, slapping, fingering, strap-on sex. Caitlyn masturbating at the thought of reader (yum) finger sucking and lots of self indulgent filth tbh.

TAGLIST: @lewd-alien @greysontheidiot @jolyne @sapphic-ovaries @tlouloser @prwttiestbunny @visobsession @thesevi0lentdelights @lvlymicha @stickycherritart @patronagrona @halle5s @usuck @thalchmy @lovelyy-moonlight @nosferatuv

There are whispers about the two of you everywhere, a constant murmur. People talk—always do, always will—assuming you’re just another one of her fleeting indulgences, another girl caught in the gravity of her wealth, her power, her privilege. They say she’s using you, and that you, in turn, are using her. Yet, neither of you make any effort to deny them. If anything, you fuel the speculation, feeding it with the quiet, effortless way you let her spoil you.

She buys you everything—things you ask for, things you don’t. She knows your desires before you even voice them. There is no request too trivial, no whim too extravagant. From the simple comfort of a warm meal waiting for you after a long day, to the brush of her fingers working the tension from your shoulders, to the extravagant, glittering pieces of jewelry she insists will suit you perfectly. A handbag you mentioned in passing, the scent of a perfume she once caught on your skin and decided you should always wear. Every detail, every fleeting thought that crosses your mind—she captures it, makes it tangible. You have learned that with her, indulgence is not just a habit but a language of its own.

Caitlyn parades you through the gilded halls of her world without hesitation, pulling you into the orbit of champagne-soaked galas and whispered gossip. She tells you what to wear. "I know you better, love. Trust me—you’ll look stunning in this." And you do, always. With a hand at the small of your back, she leads you through the crowd, a silent declaration of possession in every touch, on your thighs, on your hips, on your neck sometimes. Her gaze never shies away, trailing over you with a kind of hunger that doesn’t need to be spoken aloud. She watches you—the curve of your hips, the slope of your neck, the fat of your tits and your ass.

She loves the attention you draw, revels in the way others look, but it’s not just vanity. It’s the thrill of knowing that no matter how many eyes linger, you are hers and hers alone. And she makes sure you never forget it—whether it's the press of her lips against your throat in the dimly lit corner of a gala, or the way she pulls you into a secluded bathroom to claim you over and over again.

Caitlyn adores taking care of you—if that isn’t already abundantly clear. She carries it like a quiet devotion. She notices the signs of your exhaustion long before you do, catching the subtle shifts in your voice, the tired droop of your shoulders, the distant look in your eyes. And she never lets it take hold. She’s there before the weight becomes too much—making sure you eat properly, that your restless nights don’t stretch into patterns of self-neglect, that your health is carefully preserved. When she’s not near, her absence is softened by the quiet efficiency of the staff she’s instructed to ensure your routine is upheld. Meals prepared just the way you like them, reminders whispered with gentle concern, a structure built from her care, constant even when she's not home.

But when she is with you, her attentiveness takes a different shape, something more intimate, more tangible. After one of those long, glittering nights at yet another gala, when the champagne has flowed too freely and the weight of the evening sits heavy in your limbs, she’s there—her arm intertwined with yours. The warmth of her hand pressing gently against your back, guiding you through the haze of indulgence and into the soft sanctuary of your shared bedroom. She settles you onto the bed with an effortless grace, her fingers ghosting over your skin, tracing delicate paths across your arms, through your hair, whispering soft reassurances that melt against your senses. Her lips find the curve of your temple, the corner of your mouth, the pulse at your throat—each kiss grounding you, pulling you closer into the gentle lull of her presence. She holds you like a precious thing, cradling you until sleep finally claims you.

And you can only thank her in the ways you know how. Dressing in the silks and lace she’s so carefully chosen for you. You wait for her return after too many days apart, anticipation humming beneath your skin as you let her enter first, savoring the moment before you follow. Your hands find her shoulders, trailing soft kisses along the nape of her neck, lingering there before moving to her jawline, each touch a silent welcome.

You guide her to sit, undoing the buttons and ties of her clothes with a slow, deliberate tenderness. And then you let her touch, let her remove each piece of tender fabric from your body until her hands are on your hips, guiding you to sit in between her legs. Rocking your body up and down her skin just to feel the heat of your whines against her neck, your nails digging into her shoulders when she grabs your ass almost too aggressive. And then when your wet exposes all of you, when the sounds get so loud it's almost too obscene, there she lets you take her fingers, kissing your breasts and putting your nipples into her mouth while you ride her hand. If she's not too tired then she'll take her strap, laying you on the bed to admire each reaction your body makes, each tone your lips let pass, each frown your eyebrows create. Or maybe she'll let you handle it as you wish, just holding your head while you suck on the blue length, or holding onto your ass and hips and waist while her mouth almost drools at the sight of your breasts bouncing with each thrust on her strap.

Caitlyn is acutely aware that your age can sometimes create a quiet distance between you, a rift born not of intention but of circumstance. She knows it can be the root of certain insecurities, both yours and hers, though you may never speak them aloud. Yet, she meets these uncertainties with a steady resolve, constantly reminding you in her soft, assured way that she doesn’t care about such things. Caitlyn sees the brilliance in you, the sharp wit and unflinching curiosity that often leaves her in awe. She adores the beauty you carry—both the kind that turns heads and the quiet kind, the one revealed in the soft moments when you think no one is watching.

Because just like you she sometimes finds herself in an expensive room away from you, hands sliding her clothes off her body with no shame but desperation, circling her fingers around her clit, grasping at her breasts like they were yours. Only when she feels her slick dripping she allows herself the sensation of her fingers, thrusting in and out of her wet pussy, hoping they could be yours instead. Or brushing her hair over one of her shoulders while her knuckles turn white at how hard she's gripping the sheets, trying to make the soft of the pillow feel as good as your skin.

Caitlyn loves the maturity in you, the resilience, the determination to carve your place in the world. But she loves the immaturity too, the moments when your youthfulness shines through in bursts of enthusiasm, naiveness or stubbornness. To her, it’s all part of what makes you you. And more than anything, she delights in giving you the freedom to explore the world the way she wishes she could have at your age.

But Caitlyn also knows the experience, and she’s certainly not afraid to remind you of that, even when you don’t want to hear it. There’s a quiet authority in her, a subtle yet unyielding belief that she often knows better than you.

And when you forget you’re in a relationship—one built on love and balance—and not simply some casual arrangement. It’s in these moments that her condescension slips through, not out of malice but from a place of confidence in her own wisdom.

You’re standing in front of the mirror, frowning as you adjust the straps of the dress Caitlyn picked out for you earlier. It's stunning, of course—she has an eye for these things—but something about the way it hugs your body, the way it reveals just enough, makes you hesitate. You tug at the fabric, trying to convince yourself it’s not too much, too daring, but before you can slip into self-doubt, Caitlyn’s voice cuts through.

"Stop that," stepping closer, her reflection appears behind yours in the glass. She's already dressed, flawless as always, effortless confident. Her hands find your waist, grounding not only your thoughts but your body in a way that makes your breath hitch.

"I know you think you have a say in this," her tone like she’s humoring you. Like she knows exactly what you’re thinking before you do.

You roll your eyes at her reflection, but she just smirks, tilting her head slightly as she watches you. That gaze of hers—assessing, knowing—has a way of stripping you down more thoroughly than any dress ever could.

One of her hands slides up your bare shoulder, fingers tracing the delicate curve of your collarbone, "but let me remind you—when it comes to things like this, I always know best."

Her lips brush against your neck, and it’s infuriating how easily she takes control, how effortlessly she disarms you with a mixture of amusement and authority. "So be a good girl and wear the dress."

The way she says it leaves no room for argument—not that you’re inclined to fight her when she’s looking at you like that, when her touch is so deliberate, her words laced with something you can’t quite name but crave nonetheless. You swallow hard, nodding slowly, and Caitlyn hums in approval, pressing a lingering kiss just beneath your ear before stepping back.

"That's what I thought." And just like that, you let her win—because deep down, you love it when she does. Mostly because of the reward that comes with it.

And oh, Caitlyn despises it when you’re disrespectful—whether it’s to her or to the carefully curated world she surrounds herself with. She expects a certain grace from you, a poise that matches her own, and when you falter—when your eyes roll in front of her colleagues, when your lips curl in disdain at the mention of a woman who so clearly yearns to be in your place—she doesn’t let it slide. Caitlyn is patient, indulgent even, but there are limits, and she’s always swift in reminding you of them.

She waits, of course, never one to make a scene. But later, when the champagne flutes have emptied and the polite smiles have faded into the background, she’ll take your hand, leading you through the corridors of some grand, gilded venue until you’re behind the locked door of an opulent bathroom. The kind with marble counters and mirrors that stretch too high. Her fingers, steady and knowing, trace the hem of your dress—the very dress she picked out for you, ensuring it would allow her effortless access when the need arose. And now, it seems, the need has indeed arisen.

She’s meticulous in her control, sliding beneath the delicate layers of fabric with a slowness that feels deliberate, a punishment in itself. Her touch is firm, possessive, her lips brushing just below your ear. "I dress you for a reason, love," she whispers, her tone dripping with authority, "so I can do exactly this when you misbehave."

She loves teaching you lessons like this—loves the way your bravado crumbles under her touch, the way your protests dissolve into soft gasps and whispered apologies. She keeps you there, pinned between the cold marble and the heat of her body, circling the pads of her fingers around your clit, smiling at your neck at how wet you are already, how damp your panties are. She sometimes thinks you're rude on purpose, just to get some fun at the boring of such events. Just to end up laying on your stomach on top of her lap, legs separated while her hand plays with the fat of your ass, spanking with no warn before sliding her fingers inside of your panties and scissor your folds, playing with your clit until you're wet enough and a wining mess. Only there she lets you have her fingers, her right hand busy holding your face in place as she lets you suck on her fingers, her rings still on. And her left one pumping in and out of you at the slowest rhythm. Maybe one day you'll learn to behave like she expects you to. Like you should.

#𝕽EQ'S﹕⠀ ❪ arcane ❫#A𝕽𝐂𝐇𝖎V𝕰 ( arcane )#( 𝕽 𝜊S.mut )#caitlyn x reader #caitlyn x you #caitlyn x y/n #caitlyn smut #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn kiramman x you #caitlyn kiramman x female reader #caitlyn kiramman smut #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #arcane x female reader #arcane smut

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