#caitlyn smut

[lambcultist]

꒰ ♱ ꒱ sugar mommy!caitlyn kiramman headcaons ┆ fashion designer!caitlyn, sugar mommy!caitlyn, serious bdsm dynamic, mommy kink, bondage, sex toys (strap-on), lingerie and collars, free use kink, size kink, aftercare, oral (c!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), dom!caitlyn, sub!reader, femme!reader, age gap (reader in early twenties and caitlyn in her early thirties), i want her :( ♡  MINORS DNI ( 18+ )

♱ caitlyn was born into wealth, the kiramman name already highly influential. she had big shoes to grow into, and from a young age she had found an unusual way to transform the success of the family name into her own; fashion.

caitlyn had an eye for style since she was young, and began learning how to draw fashion sketches and develop new patterns as soon as she could wrap her small hands around a pencil. trained to sew by the seamstresses her parents often commissioned, caitlyn was equipped with everything she needed to dominate the industry; the skill, the knowledge, and the personality, all of which shone through every piece she designed.

she won awards as young as eleven years old for her creativity, was crowned best dressed in the yearbook as she graduated private school, and was praised for the uniqueness of her style. caitlyn had a natural gift; there was a rareness in the approach she took to fashion. something the industry wasn't used to.

inspired by the elegance of royalty, the dramatic flair of victorian era trends, and a feminine twist on traditionally masculine pieces, caitlyn carved her name into the industry by force. she wouldn't slow down for anyone.

she was driven by passion. if her latest line wasn't selling the numbers she wanted, she'd waste no time getting back into her studio to make something better. almost always, she'd make a comeback greater than the last. she bought a magnificent cabinet with the goal to fill it with awards and plaques to commemorate her success. the kiramman name would dominate catwalks—the high fashion industry was never the same as it was before she had touched it. other designers worked hard to keep up, but caitlyn's pace was relentless.

♱ she had everything she ever wanted. caitlyn had made her mother and father proud, she was reaching every goal she wanted. but she was lacking somewhere.

caitlyn could have any woman she wanted, she knew this and often was unafraid to use this to her advantage, but the older she grew, the less satisfying it had became to see a different woman each night. she needed someone loyal. for the first time in her life she felt stagnant. and then she met you.

the loveliest service she had received in any restaurant, michelin star or otherwise, had been from you. it was terribly busy but you had an eye for everything happening all at once. you handled it with a poise caitlyn hadn't witnessed before, and she rewarded you with a hefty tip and a request to have your contact details—it took her pulling a few strings to get this, but she could get whatever she wanted in this world.

♱ you were desperate. every calm reaction to meticulous dining requests and customer issues was due to your desperate need for tips, bills and rent piling higher and higher over your shoulders at the time. the moment caitlyn found this out, she wanted to assist you.

caitlyn hadn't considered herself the type for a transactional relationship like this, but it was an easy decision to make once the idea struck. she wanted devotion, you needed help. she could throw away as much money as she liked on you, it was pennies to her.

but most importantly, you revived her. caitlyn was quick to run to her studio, inspired by your beauty.

♱ soon, everything you owned was kiramman. your clothes, your makeup, your perfume, your shoes, your bags. she made custom pieces for you, her most special muse. you'd be posing in the middle of her studio for her to run her hands over your body with a tape measure, trying on half-finished pieces, modelling every new item for the catalogues and online store.

if you were to be seen publicly at her side, caitlyn would have you dressed as appropriately for the event as she desired.

♱ she had changed your life. from waitress to full-time model, and, unbeknownst to the public eye, her submissive.

your lingerie was kiramman. your collars were kiramman.

caitlyn was never cold. she was intimate and tender, a guiding hand. your mommy, who never punished, and only ever rewarded you. if you misbehaved, she never knew about it.

♱ caitlyn would give you anything you ever wanted. she ensured you were still making your own money via your modelling, but she gave you a sizeable weekly allowance as her baby, and 'bonuses' given to you at random if you needed a little extra to buy something you liked.

she kept you happy. financially or otherwise, caitlyn was very focused on keeping you close. if you were insecure or afraid, she supplied loving snuggles on her couch with her cats. if you were cold, she'd sleep by your side in luxury bedding. she had a perpetually warm body, her bosom the most comforting pillow to lay your head.

every kiss of caitlyn's was expensive, flavoured by hundred dollar lipsticks and sophistication.

♱ the filth of your sex life, which was certainly alive, was so special because it was something nobody knew about. people could speculate how your life was under caitlyn's wing, but they didn't know the ins and outs of her like you did as her sub.

it was part of your deal, after all. caitlyn could have you whenever she liked. if she wanted you, she would have you. you would kneel on the floor by her desk while she worked. she'd tug on your leash every now and then to remind you of your place and to demand your silence as she focused. she would bind your wrists with ribbon to restrain you while she touched your body. she'd tell you it's only so that you'll have an easier time being a good girl and not squirm too much.

if you were ready for bed, but looked too pretty in the sleepwear she designed, she'd pull your slip over your hips to curl those long, mean fingers into your pussy.

if you were bored, or looked lost, she'd call you over and coddle you, letting you suck on her clit to entertain yourself for a little while.

designing your lingerie was her favourite. it was always in her favourite colour. rich, custom made navy lace and silk were always her go-to fabrics to use. she'd design it so that you would match with whatever she wanted to wear as well.

she liked any position, from doggy, to cowgirl, to missionary. she was taller than you, stronger than you, and could manipulate you into any position. fucking you with her strap was the most therapeutic act. the continuous cries she pulled from your lips, the repeated 'mommy, mommy, mommy', and the tears that glimmered down your cheeks in the low light, were the most pleasing to her. she could overwhelm you so easily.

♱ aftercare was luxurious. caitlyn would immediately scoop you up, gathering you into her lap and letting the tactile sensations steady your heart. then she would ready a bath, treating it like a spa day. expensive soaps lathered over your body, not a single spot missed by her slow hands. you'd be dried with a soft towel after and put to bed in her arms as she enjoyed a cup of tea and a book, your breathing slowing as sleep finally overtook you.

♱ caitlyn could say it was simply transactional, and she took much pride in being such a great sugar mommy, but she didn't want to accept that you were much more than just her sugar baby. you were the loyalty she needed, the inspiration she needed, and you were so pleasant to look at she would feel her heart swell every time. especially at every photoshoot. she was fond of you. perhaps more than she should've been.

um, hi... hehe... now that i've finished my big ellie one-shot (posting on the weekend if you missed it) i am back to regular posts. until i focus on something else. which, i do have lots of longer fics lined up that i'll want to work on soon.

🏷️ @abbysdollie @valeisaslut @eriiwaii @emmap3rkins @jinxedbambi @heyimrye @rhian88 @g4ys0n @angelxvs @yoosohh @marvelwomenarehot0 @tennisthatcher

[velvetsserenity]

tongue twister

caitlyn x reader x vi

✎ word count: 3.5k ꩜ content warnings: explicit sexual content, orgasm control, rough handling, light choking, public setting, humiliation, dominance dynamics, voyeurism, jealousy, threesome dynamics, oral (receiving)

You didn’t come to the Last Drop to cause trouble.

Well. Not exactly.

You came to dance. To drink. To press your body against strangers who don’t ask questions and know how to bite without drawing blood. You came to forget the week, the city, the bullshit.

You did not come to see them.

So when the bar door creaks open and the flickering neon catches pink hair and a high collar, you nearly choke on your drink.

You sit back on your stool, licking vodka from your bottom lip, and tilt your head slowly.

“...You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Vi walks in first, smug, relaxed, like the chaos of the Lanes lives in her blood. She’s in a loose tank, old gloves tucked into her belt, face lit by the dim blue wash of the bar lights.

And right beside her...

Caitlyn Kiramman. Hair pristine. Blouse starched. A few buttons undone to look casual, but still standing like she’s holding a badge under her skin.

They’re talking. Laughing.

Laughing.

Together.

You narrow your eyes.

They don’t see you.

Even when they cut through the crowd like they own the place, brushing shoulders with bodies that look at them and then away. Vi’s making a beeline for the bar. Caitlyn follows, hesitant but intrigued.

You swirl your drink and lean forward just a little, resting your chin on your palm.

This’ll be good.

You don’t approach.

Of course not.

You sit five seats down at the curve of the bar and watch. Sip. Wait.

Vi orders two drinks. You recognize her voice when she growls something flirty to the bartender. Caitlyn leans in closer than she needs to, smiling like she’s trying not to.

You hate that you know what both of them sound like in bed.

You hate that you remember Vi’s laugh when she came the first time, biting your shoulder, mumbling your name like a dare.

You hate that you remember Caitlyn’s breath catching when you forced her to beg. The way she kissed you like it was beneath her. Like she liked that.

They don’t know you’re here.

They don’t know they’ve both had you.

You shouldn’t do it.

But.

You’ve never been good at walking away from a fire.

You grab your drink, slide off your stool, and saunter up like you were invited.

Vi’s elbow is on the bar, back half-turned to you, boots crossed, mid-sentence about something stupid and flirty, probably trying to impress.

Caitlyn is pretending not to look impressed.

You stop just behind them.

Close enough to be felt.

Vi turns first.

She freezes.

Her mouth opens, closes. Then she leans back slowly, her eyes narrowing, recognition blooming like a bruise.

Caitlyn follows her gaze.

And stops breathing.

You take a sip and drag your eyes over both of them like they’re meat in a butcher’s window.

“Well,” you hum. “Didn’t expect to see this pairing.”

Caitlyn blinks. “You—”

Vi interrupts, stunned. “You know each other?”

You let the pause hang just long enough to hurt.

“Yeah,” you say casually. “You could say that.”

Caitlyn straightens, voice tight. “She and I... knew each other. Briefly.”

Vi scoffs. “No shit. When?”

“Before you,” Caitlyn mutters. Her voice is clipped. Controlled.

Vi turns to you. “Seriously?”

You tilt your head. “Don’t act surprised. We weren’t exclusive, Vi.”

“That’s not the point.”

You sip again. “Oh? What is the point?”

Vi just stares. Like she's running math she doesn’t want to solve.

Caitlyn watches you. Cold. Still. That elegant, calculating gaze you remember from the last time she had your wrist pinned to a wall.

You smile, just a little. “Relax. I’m not here to make a scene.”

Vi snorts. “You are the scene.”

Caitlyn’s voice is soft but sharp: “What are you doing here?”

“I’m a local,” you say. “You’re the tourists.”

Caitlyn’s mouth tightens. Vi looks away like she’s trying to hide the twitch in her jaw.

You step forward between them. They both shift just barely. A half-step back. You love that.

“You two look cozy,” you murmur. “Something going on?”

“No,” Caitlyn says quickly.

Vi shrugs. “Nothing serious.”

“Mm.” You drag your finger along the rim of your glass. “Neither was I. With either of you.”

That lands like a slap.

Good.

Vi breathes out hard through her nose. “So this is, what—some kind of fucking joke?”

“No,” you say, tilting your chin up. “But it’s getting funny.”

Caitlyn’s tone cuts in, cool as ice: “Are you jealous?”

You laugh. “Of what? Getting passed between Piltover’s problem children like a shared cigarette?”

Caitlyn’s face hardens.

Vi mutters, “Fuck’s sake...”

You finish your drink in one long swallow and slam the glass down.

“Anyway. I’ve got better things to do than stand between two half-fucks playing pretend.”

You pivot on your heel.

Vi’s jaw clenches the second your back turns.

You disappear into the crowd like you were never even there���just a flash of skin and shadow swallowed by flashing lights and smoke-thick air.

“Fucking hell,” she mutters, pushing off the bar.

“Vi—” Caitlyn’s voice calls behind her, cautious.

But Vi’s already moving.

The beat hits harder out here. The crowd is denser, stickier, full of the kind of people who never say sorry when they shoulder past. The kind of people you blend into.

She shoves through dancers, eyes scanning for a glimpse of your hair, the curve of your shoulder, the swing of your hips. But you’re gone.

Caitlyn follows, a step behind, trying not to touch anyone, trying to stay clean in a place that feeds on dirt.

“You don’t even know where she went,” Caitlyn says, clipped.

Vi glances back, eyes wild. “She’s not just gonna vanish.”

“She does that,” Caitlyn mutters. “Trust me.”

Vi grits her teeth and pushes deeper into the mess of bodies, the flashing lights slicing over her face in sharp colors—blue, red, green, then black again. She sees a girl dancing on a speaker who almost looks like you. She grabs her shoulder and yanks her around—

Not you.

Not even close.

The girl shoves Vi off and keeps dancing like nothing happened.

Caitlyn finally catches up beside her, breath shallow. “You’re wasting your time. She knows this place.”

Vi scans the perimeter, jaw tight. “She’s not from the Lanes. Not really.”

Caitlyn laughs, mean and bitter. “No. She’s under them. Slips through the cracks. That’s what she does.”

Vi doesn’t stop moving.

She checks the far corner, pushes through a knot of half-naked dancers, scans every booth, every back wall. The bathroom line. The Shimmer dealers. Even the goddamn DJ booth.

Nothing.

Caitlyn hangs back now, arms crossed, heels clicking sharply as she trails Vi with increasingly disgusted looks. Her hair’s slightly frizzed. Her blouse—too expensive for this hellhole—is sticking to her back. She’s done pretending.

Caitlyn follow her outside as she rummages trough the back alley of the club.

“This is pointless,” she says flatly. “You’ve checked every wall in that club twice.”

Vi doesn’t even look at her. “She’s fast, not invisible.”

“She wants you to chase her.”

Vi snaps, “And what? You’re just gonna roll over and let her win?”

“I’m going home.”

Vi turns now, jaw tight. “You’re seriously just walking away?”

“Yes. Because unlike you, I don’t have anything to prove.”

Vi scoffs, stepping in close. “Is that right?”

“I’m not wasting my night dragging through alleyways because some girl from your past decided to be cute.”

Vi bristles. “She’s not—”

“Not yours, Vi,” Caitlyn snaps, eyes flashing. “Not mine either. She made that perfectly clear.”

Vi glares. “This isn’t about ownership.”

“Oh, of course not,” Caitlyn says, voice icy. “You’re just out here playing detective in the dark because what tour ego couldn’t handle being walked away from?”

Vi’s teeth clench. “You don’t get it.”

“No. I don’t. Because I left it where it belonged���back inside.” Caitlyn breathes out, close now, close enough to smell the smoke still clinging to Vi’s collar, the sweat at her neck. “You’re beneath her. You’d crawl if she told you to.”

Vi moves fast.

She grabs Caitlyn’s collar, yanks her in, mouth hard on hers, teeth and lips and spit and fury. Caitlyn gasps, but she doesn’t push back. She pulls closer, fists curling in Vi’s tank top, dragging her backward into the alley wall with a thud.

The kiss is vicious. Angry. Hot with everything they never said and everything they swore they wouldn’t feel.

Vi bites her lip.

Caitlyn growls.

Hands fumble fast Vi pushing up the edge of Caitlyn’s blouse, fingers skating over her ribs like she’s searching for a place to ruin. Caitlyn shoves Vi’s jacket off her shoulders, fingers digging into her arms, dragging lines that’ll bruise tomorrow.

They break the kiss for one breath—both panting, flushed, glaring.

“This is a mistake,” Caitlyn pants.

Vi licks her bottom lip. “That your way of asking me to stop?”

Caitlyn doesn’t answer.

She just kisses her again, rougher.

Vi grabs her hips and flips them, slamming Caitlyn back into the wall this time. Her thigh wedges between Cait’s legs, grinding hard, unapologetic. Caitlyn moans before she can stop it.. and that sound? That sound goes straight to Vi’s head.

“You still think you’re above this?” Vi hisses against her throat.

“Shut up,” Caitlyn breathes.

Vi sinks her teeth into Caitlyn’s neck. Caitlyn arches.

They’re a tangle of limbs now, hands under clothes, against skin, fighting for control even while giving it up in pieces. No softness. No names. Just sweat, breath, the wet sound of kisses torn open too fast.

Vi’s hand slips lower, under Caitlyn’s waistband, fingers sliding dow. Then—

“Look at the lovebirds.”

The voice cuts through the dark like a blade.

Both women freeze.

Caitlyn jerks her head toward the sound, panting, eyes wide. Vi doesn’t move right away, fingers still resting just below Cait’s navel, breath hot against her neck.

You’re leaning against the alley wall five feet away, one leg crossed over the other, cigarette between your fingers, glowing tip a slow pulse in the dark. The smoke coils around you like it belongs there.

You smile lazy, cocky, dripping venom.

“Well, don’t stop on my account.”

Vi steps back instantly, eyes blazing, face flushed in a way that has nothing to do with arousal anymore.

Caitlyn scrambles to pull her shirt down, cheeks burning, hair mussed, mouth still parted like she hasn’t figured out what to say yet.

You tilt your head, take a long drag, and exhale slowly. “Didn’t think I had to leave you two alone for five minutes before the hate-fucking started.”

Vi glares. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I live here,” you answer, voice sweet and sarcastic. “Remember? Local, remember? You’re the ones in my alley.”

Caitlyn’s lip curls. “You followed us.”

You raise an eyebrow. “If I had, I’d have gotten here earlier.”

Vi steps forward, chest still heaving, jaw clenched. “You’ve been watching us?”

You smile wider. “Why? Feeling shy now?”

Caitlyn mutters, “You’re disgusting.”

You flick ash off your cigarette without flinching. “And you’re still half-undressed. So maybe don’t throw stones, Kiramman.”

Caitlyn opens her mouth—then shuts it, nostrils flaring.

Vi looks like she wants to hit something. Or fuck something. Or both.

You glance between them, pleased. Flushed, frustrated, furious,just the way you left them.

You push off the wall slowly, walking toward them, your boots echoing in the wet alley.

“Cute show, by the way,” you murmur. “All that pent-up tension. Should’ve let me join—might’ve lasted longer.”

Vi’s eyes narrow. “You think this is a game?”

You stop right in front of her, blow smoke past her cheek. “I know it is.”

Then you look at Caitlyn.

“Was she good?” you ask, soft, mocking. “Better than me?”

Caitlyn stiffens.

You grin.

“Didn’t think so.”

And with that, you toss the cigarette to the ground, crush it with your boot, and turn your back on both of them.

Two steps.

That’s all you get.

Then a rough hand grabs your arm and yanks.

Your spine hits the wall hard, concrete cold against your back, your breath knocked straight out of your chest. Vi’s there, right there pressed in close, thigh between yours, hand braced beside your head. The wall behind you groans like it’s not ready for this kind of violence.

She’s breathing like she ran a mile uphill.

Eyes wild.

Teeth clenched.

You blink once, slow. “Touched a nerve?”

Vi doesn’t answer.

Her other hand grabs your jaw, tight. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make a point.

“You like this, huh?” she growls. “Running that mouth. Getting in our heads. Making everything about you.”

“It is about me,” you murmur, lips curling.Challenging her with just some simple words and a glare.

Vi’s eyes flash. She leans in like she’s going to kiss you, but stops just short so close her breath hits your lips.

“You think I won’t fuck the smug off your face right here?”

You exhale, slow, deliberate. “No. I think you will.”

Silence.

Tension so thick it’s choking.

Vi shoves her thigh up between your legs harder, her fingers sliding around your throat not squeezing, just holding.

Just threatening.

You tilt your head back against the wall, smirking. “What’s the matter, Vi? Caitlyn not enough for you?”

She snaps.

Her mouth crashes against yours hot, hard, brutal. Not a kiss. A punishment. You open to it anyway, let her take what she wants, let her teeth catch your lip until it stings and tastes like blood and smoke.

You hear Caitlyn breathe soft and sharp and shaky.

Good.

Let her watch.

Let her see.

Vi presses harder, her thigh wedged between yours, rough denim dragging over the thinnest part of your resolve. Her hand curls in your hair, pulling your head back, mouth dragging down your jaw to your neck, biting hard enough to make you gasp.

You don’t stop her.

You bare your throat like you want her to ruin it.

“You should’ve kept your mouth shut,” she growls, voice raw.

“You’re welcome,” you rasp, “for giving you a reason to use it.”

She snarls and grinds her leg upward, watching your eyes flutter for just a second. Just enough to make her grin.

Then her gaze flicks over your shoulder, toward Caitlyn.

Still watching.

Vi pulls back just enough to speak, her voice meant for both of you. “You like watching?”

Caitlyn swallows, but doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t deny it. ou turn your head toward her, lips swollen, neck raw.

“I think she does,” you whisper, just loud enough.

Vi smirks. Her hand slips under your shirt, palm splayed across your stomach. Her other hand stays in your hair, keeping your head tilted so Caitlyn has the perfect view of every reaction. Every flinch. Every filthy sound.

You let your mouth fall open. A quiet whimper leaks out, and you don’t bother hiding it.

Caitlyn’s knuckles are white now, fists clenched by her sides, like she’s trying to keep herself from reaching for something she shouldn’t.

“You can touch,” you murmur, eyes locked on her. “Or you can just stand there and ache.” You murmur as you shake your head in the most sassiest way.

Vi bites your shoulder—hard, you jolt.

Caitlyn steps forward. Not reaching for you. Not grabbing Vi. Just closing the distance.

Her voice is cold. Too calm. “You’re pathetic.”

You smile through the sting. “And you’re still watching.”

Caitlyn steps in even closer, now barely an inch from your lips, your back still held against the wall.

“But if I touch her now,” Caitlyn murmurs, voice like silk dipped in venom, “she’ll think she won.”

“I already did,” you whisper.

Vi watches, breath uneven, body flush against your back.

Caitlyn leans in, but doesn’t kiss you. Her lips brush yours, faint enough to burn.

“You can talk later,” she says softly, pulling away. “When I let you.”

Caitlyn’s hand slides up, fingers threading into your hair as she finally presses her mouth to yours. You moan into it before you can stop yourself.

She tastes like anger and pride and something clean beneath it like control wearing perfume.

Her tongue pushes in, sharp and deliberate, and she swallows the sound you make like it’s a win.

Behind you, Vi shifts.

Drops lower.

You feel her hands at your thighs, parting them like she owns them, her breath ghosting under your clothes a split second before her mouth makes contact.

Your head slams softly back against the wall.

Caitlyn breaks the kiss only to move down, her lips trailing over your cheek, your jaw, then to your neck. She sinks her teeth in where Vi left the mark earlier, sucking over it like she’s trying to stamp her name on top of the bruise.

“You’re so fucking loud,” she mutters against your throat.

And it’s true.

Vi had pushed your little dress up, bunching it around your waist. Starring at your panties before moving it to the side, admiring. Then Vi’s mouth is hot between your legs, tongue dragging slow, wet, and cruel as she sinks in deeper.

Your hands grip the wall behind you, nails scraping brick, hips jerking once—twice, as Vi locks you in place.

Caitlyn’s hand closes around your throat, thumb resting lightly on your pulse.

“Keep your eyes open,” she says.

You try.

You really try.

But then Vi moans against you hungry and it sends a shock straight through your spine. Your knees buckle, and Caitlyn catches you by the throat and jaw, holding you upright while Vi keeps working, mouth dragging you under like quicksand.

Caitlyn kisses you again. This time slower. Drowningly slow. Her lips smeared with control.

Vi doesn’t stop.

Not even when your hips start to tremble.

Not even when Caitlyn murmurs, “Already? What a mess you are.”

You can’t answer.

Your mouth is busy trying not to scream.

Caitlyn pulls back just enough to whisper into your ear.

“Don’t come yet.”

Vi growls in protest from below, the vibration almost enough to undo you right there.

But you listen.

Barely.

Caitlyn’s hand is still at your throat, fingers soft but commanding, her thumb tapping lightly against your pulse like a countdown.

“Still holding on?” she whispers, biting the shell of your ear.

You nod. Barely. Wrong move.

Vi takes it as permission.

She groans into you, tongue pressing harder, wetter, meaner.

Your hips jerk. Caitlyn’s hand tightens just enough to remind you: no.

You whimper, and it’s pathetic, but it slips out too fast to swallow.

Caitlyn’s mouth curls against your skin. “She’s trying to break you.”

Another roll of Vi’s tongue. Another flash of heat that nearly buckles your legs.

“She won’t,” you choke out.

Caitlyn hums. “You sure?”

Vi drags her nails down the backs of your thighs.

You cry out.

Your eyes flutter closed, only for Caitlyn to slap your cheek. Light. Sharp. Measured.

“Keep them open.”

You do.

You fucking do.

Tears threaten at the corners from the intensity, the burn, the pressure but you hold. You stay on that knife’s edge, breath shaking, lips bitten raw from trying to hold back the sound clawing up your throat.

Vi groans again, and Caitlyn chuckles darkly, voice rich with satisfaction.

“She wants to hear you fall apart,” she says, lips brushing your jaw. “But you won’t give her that, will you?”

You shake your head, dizzy.

Vi’s hands spread wider, forcing your legs open more. Her mouth gets sloppy now, messier, as she grinds her face into you like she’s past patience.

You’re soaking. Shaking.

So close you could snap.

And Caitlyn leans in, one hand sliding up under your shirt, fingers cool against your ribs as she whispers—

“Now.”

Your body obeys before your mind can catch up.

You break.

Hard.

Loud.

Your hips jerk. Your voice finally tears loose, raw and ragged and fucking ruined.

Vi moans into you like she just won a prize, her mouth still working you through it.

Caitlyn holds your jaw the entire time, her eyes locked on yours, watching every twitch, every gasp, every tear slide down your cheek like she owns them.

When your knees finally buckle, Vi pulls back slowly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, smug and wrecked herself.

Caitlyn doesn’t let go.

Not yet.

She tilts your head up and says, soft and clean—

“Next time, you’ll ask.”

And you nod, breathless.

Because you will.

[ffiolette]

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

[vvifeys]

bite me.

vampire!cait x human!vi. tw: kinda rough sex? i think? dom cait, sub vi. cait bites vi. cait is a little mean. dacryphilia if you squint. strap-on. praise. MEN DNI!! a/n: HELLO EVERYBODY. this was actually so fun to write, the idea hit me like super late a few nights ago and i had a lovely friends help with figuring out how to properly go about this.

"baby, can you do the dishes?" vi's voice rang from the kitchen as she slid her plate into the sink. vi had made herself lunch while caitlyn sat on the couch watching some weird horror drama. she never bothered with asking caitlyn if she wanted to eat, the pale woman always turning her offer down.

"i did the dishes last time, violet. you made dinner and then started telling me how tired you were, so i did them so you could sleep." caitlyn yells back, pausing her show and getting up. she walked into the kitchen, footsteps dead quiet as she leaned on the island.

"i know, but i- they... ugh," vi huffed, unable to come up with a quick, solid excuse. "bite me." she quips instead, turning around to twist the faucet on. she was in the middle of pouring soap onto one of the dirty plates as she felt cold hands slip onto her hips and a firm body press up against her.

"what was that, darling?" caitlyn's hypnotic voice breathed into vi's ear. a shudder ran through the shorter girls body before she responded.

"i said, 'bite me'." vi repeats, voice cockier than before. she liked getting her lover riled up, seeing how far she could push before caitlyn snapped. she held back a gasp when she felt the hands on her hips tighten their grip.

"you think you're funny, huh? you're not." caitlyn reached over vi to turn the water off, her voice taking a dangerous edge. "bedroom, now." she demanded.

vi didn't have to be told twice. once caitlyn moved out of her way, she was darting to the bedroom. she sat down on the edge of the bed to wait for caitlyn, the heat between her thighs growing with every passing second. once caitlyn was finally in the bedroom, she shut the door and made her way to vi.

she bent down, connecting their lips. both of their eyes closed, vi's hand finding the back of caitlyn's head as the taller held vi's face. vi slowly laid back, grabbing caitlyn's hair to pull her on top. caitlyn ended up with her thighs on either side of vi's hips, breaking the kiss as she sat up.

"you look so pretty like this. you're practically sweating already and i haven't even gotten to the best part..." caitlyn whispered, leaning back down and trailing kisses from vi's jaw, down to her neck. once she got to vi's pulse point, she stopped. she ever-so-lightly traced her fangs over her girlfriends soft skin.

caitlyn felt vi shiver underneath her, biting back a small whimper. she giggled, leaning up again and pulling vi's shirt over her head in one quick motion. she almost drooled. she'd seen vi topless plenty of times, but every time it happened, it felt like their first all over again.

she trailed soft kisses down vi's body, letting her hands wander and squeeze every so often. once she got to the buttons of the jeans vi was wearing, she smiled. she could smell the arousal dripping, and it got to her brain more than she'd like to admit.

as caitlyn slowly worked on undoing the buttons, it took everything in vi to control herself and not push up into caitlyn's hands. the sight of her girlfriend taking her time sliding her pants off was something that would be on playback in her head. once the buttons were open, they were slid off of vi's legs and tossed onto the floor next to her shirt.

"please- fuck, caitlyn. i want you so bad." vi whined, parting her legs to accommodate caitlyn's body.

"ah-ah, be patient. you'll take what i give you, vi." caitlyn chides, shaking her head. she decided to tease vi a little, scooting closer to place a knee between her legs. caitlyn leaned down over her, one arm snaking around her back to unclasp her bra.

vi's soft gasp made caitlyn smile, slowly sliding the fabric off and tossing it aside. she ran her hands over her lover's tits, squeezing and tweaking her pierced nipples. caitlyn didn't miss the way vi tried to grind on her thigh, quickly removing her hands and pulling back.

vi's whine was interrupted by caitlyn's laugh, finding it cute how huffy she was getting. the pink haired girl didn't find it as funny though.

"you're so mean, cait, please– stop teasing." vi tried her best to sound bothered by it.

"you like it when i'm mean. that's part of the fun. now, i'm gonna tell you what i want you to do, and i want you to listen." caitlyn waited for vi to nod before she continued. "good. i want you to take your underwear off and prep yourself for me."

vi swallowed hard, nodding again as she began doing what caitlyn said. her underwear joined the rest of her clothes on the floor, and her middle finger slowly pushed in. while she was getting herself ready, caitlyn had moved off the bed and started to undress.

once she was naked, she opened the bottom drawer and pulled her strap out. she had used this specific one on vi multiple times and it always drew the prettiest noises out of her. she secured the harness around her hips, smiling to herself as she heard vi's quiet moans. she made sure to grab the lube before sitting back on the bed.

caitlyn watched vi for a few seconds, she'd upped to two fingers and had her head laid back with her eyes shut. she knew it wasn't enough for vi, she almost never came if caitlyn was helping her. it's like caitlyn knew her body better than she did.

once she had made sure she had enough lube, caitlyn grabbed vi's wrist and roughly pulled her hand away. vi whined, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes once she opened them. this didn't go unnoticed by caitlyn.

"you're so pretty when you cry, violet." she murmurs, hand reaching up and gently brushing the tears away. "don't worry, baby, i got you."

once she spoke, she moved between vi's legs again. caitlyn lined up with vi's entrance, meeting her grey-blue eyes as she pushed in. she was slowly inching in, giving vi enough time to tell her to stop if she needed to. once she bottomed out, she didn't move. she was waiting for vi to get used to it.

whenever vi told caitlyn she could move, she didn't hesitate. she immediately pulled almost all the way out, and roughly pushed back in. she set a rough pace from the start, earning all sorts of whines and moans from the girl underneath her.

caitlyn leaned closer to vi, lips tracing her neck like she did before. vi immediately tilted her head to the side, leaning it back a little to give caitlyn all the room she could. she was breathing heavy, barely able to focus, her voice was shaky and whiney.

"cait– please, fuck, want– need you to bite me. please." she begged, hand moving up and into caitlyn's hair. she grabbed a handful, rougher than she meant to but it drew a moan from caitlyn.

"oh, shit, you want me to bite you, darling? want my teeth in your neck? i'm sure you'd taste so sweet, but i want you to beg for it. properly." caitlyn borderline growled in her ear, hips still moving. after she spoke, before vi had a chance to, she moved one of her hands down and started teasing at her clit.

"mmh– caitlyn, please– wanna feel you, i need you so bad. fuck, ohmygod, i'll do anything– jus' want you to bite me." vi whines, grinding her hips down into caitlyn's hand, breathing getting heavier.

"god, you sound so pretty, baby. so, so pretty- fuck, i got you." caitlyn fully bit down on vi's neck this time, eyes rolling back at the sweet taste of blood on her tongue. she couldn't help but moan against vi's neck as she drank.

almost as soon as vi felt caitlyn's canines dig into her neck, her body tensed and she came. she hardly had time to feel it before it happened, but she tightened her grip on caitlyn's hair and held her close. caitlyn stopped moving her hips, and once she was done drinking from vi's neck, she pulled back a little. she took her time licking over the bite to soothe it and wait for vi to come back to herself.

"god, that was..." vi shook her head, removing her hand from caitlyn's hair. she took a few deep breaths, trying to steady herself.

"incredible? i know." caitlyn finishes for her, sitting up and wiping her mouth. "you feel better now that you got what you wanted?" she asked, teasing a little.

"i feel great. you're the best girlfriend i could ask for." vi giggles, sitting up. she gasped at the shift in caitlyn's strap as she moved, immediately stilling. "do you wanna deal with this? i'd like to get cleaned up."

"yeah, yeah, i got it. let's get you in the shower, darling."

a/n: i lowkey really hate this ngl, this was my first time writing a fic with a strap and i was trying to keep it on track with the idea i had while also making sure i incorporated that too?? i did my best to keep it balanced, i apologize if it sounds awkward or stilted or anything!! i'll get better the more i do this <3

[acidblum]

caitlyn kiramman luuuvs a good tribbing sesh me finks. MDNI +18

when it comes to her favorite positions it all happens to be her on top of you, be it riding your strap or fucking hers into you. but more than that she loves looking down at you while your clits are brushing against one another harshly due to her fast pace and it burns sooo good.

she’ll slap your face whenever your eyes aren’t locked on her equally fucked out face insinuating each word that comes out of her mouth with a rock of her hips “keep your eyes on me or else i’ll stop” and you can’t help but comply to whatever your commander says. jaw going slack at the knot forming deep in your stomach, her panting getting louder by the millisecond as she uses your boobs as leverage, kneading at them feverishly.

trying to gain a bit of upper hand, holding onto her raised thigh you mirror her moves in tandem. and oh my gosh the way her eyes gleam, mouth nearly drooling shoulder blades sinking and you can feel her reaching her breaking point, thighs shaking violently as she tries to keep her moves precise, cum mixing all over you and her. you can’t help the idea of bringing a finger to her clit, blueish eyes rolling to the back of her head and she breaks apart.

her sweet cum gushing all over your torso, slow, tiny spurts. the sight of her arm reaching behind her body to rub your clit as she tries to wake herself up from the high sends you over the edge. her fingers passing through your folds one more time makes you shudder at the sensitivity she’s putting you through and she chuckles at the sight of you. putting her slick filled fingers into her mouth, teeth and all sucking them clean "mmhhh you taste so good"..

© acidblum.

[peachtvs]

CAITVI SESBIAN LEX GUYS SESBIAN LEX

[korn-dawg]

rough angry sex w dictator!caitlyn dawg…………

choking her while she’s on top, grinding her cunt roughly against yours with a hand grabbing at your hair and you’re both tossing out nasty insults

[fayesia]

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ Arcane 18+ Twitter Links ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

*please be logged in for links to work*

🌀⋆｡𖦹°🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

⋆｡𖦹°‧★Jayce_______________________________

ᯓSize difference

ᯓTaking a seat

ᯓGrabbing your hair

ᯓSquirting

⋆｡𖦹°‧★Viktor_______________________________

ᯓMunch

ᯓPleasing you with his mouth and fingers

ᯓHelping him through his pain

⋆｡𖦹°‧★Silco________________________________

ᯓRewards

ᯓUsing Brothelworker!reader

ᯓMaking use of his tie

ᯓUsing your mouth

⋆｡𖦹°‧★Vi___________________________________

ᯓRiding for her

ᯓShe loves to tease

ᯓTaking you from the back

ᯓYearns to please

⋆｡𖦹°‧★Jinx_________________________________

ᯓFast fingers

ᯓShe loves pushing you to your limits

ᯓLoves to get on top

ᯓWorks her tongue perfectly

⋆｡𖦹°‧★Ekko________________________________

ᯓWet and dripping

ᯓSticky

ᯓUsing his tongue

⋆｡𖦹°‧★Vander______________________________

ᯓFilling you up

ᯓLoves carrying his good girl

ᯓRewarding his favourite waitress

⋆｡𖦹°‧★Caitlyn______________________________

ᯓEating her up

ᯓ"Just friends"

ᯓRiding her

ᯓPounding you into her royal bed

[caitlynsrighteye]

Our Secret

G!P Caitlyn Kiramman x Reader

Heir to the high social status name, Kiramman, should only be paired within the same class standard. Yet, she's fallen for (reader), a girl that is, let's say, not upper class.

Contains: Modern AU, fluff, smut with plot, secret relationship, basketball!G!P!Caitlyn wlw, fem!reader, cunnilingus, couch sex, car sex, almost getting caught, characters are 18+, in 4th year high school (old enough to fuck, but young enough for parents to still have control of their lives lol)

wc: 3.5k

Masterlist Part 2

Born into generational wealth with high status due to her parents' success in business and entrepreneurship. Caitlyn is expected to live up to the same fate, whether it's from her own success or married into another rich family.

That is what Caitlyn planned in order to please her parents.

Until her eyes landed upon you. Beautiful, nonchalant. The sway of your hips as you roam the halls of Piltover High. You were simply walking to your next class before the bell rang, but to Caitlyn, why did time seem too slow when her gaze averted to you?

You, on the other hand, did not bat an eye or spare a second glance. You paid no attention to snotty rich athletes. Especially one as popular as the navy-haired girl. Whom always seemed to have a new girl wrapped around her slim finger every week. She wasn't just the school's top basketball player she WAS a player, and you had no interest in being used.

She noticed you around more. During the passing period, the library, even sitting in the stands as you watch her team, play on the court.

Vi, your best friend. Practically grew up with each other along her sister and brothers. The redhead was also on that team you were cheering for. The game was going well with Piltover in the lead. Each shot Caitlyn took, she always looked your way to make sure you were watching (show-off) and surprisingly didn't miss a single one, like you were her goodluck charm (or maybe just being a try hard to impress you).

The team of Piltover Blue jerseys ran onto the other teams side, ready to score again. Vi passed up all opponent team players, dribbling the ball with skilled precision, ready to pass to Caitlyn. The tall athlete was ready for the pass, yet subconsciously glanced your way, and the ball being passed to her hit her straight in the head. The impact created an embarrassingly loud boing sound. While you watched too.

After the game, Caitlyn walked out of the lockerroom, icepack in hand was placed on her black swollen left eye. She saw you talking with your strong built friend. Before Caitlyn could walk away and sulk, Vi looked over her shoulder and called the girl over.

"Oye! Super star, come over here," said Vi. The blue-eyed player sighed and turned around slowly before walking in your direction. Her face was flushed. Not a clue if it was from the recent game or the embarrassment of you looking at her in her current state.

"We won, but at what cost?" The redhead laughed, patting Caitlyn on the shoulder. Caitlyn usually had this confident demeanor in her stance, but now her back was slightly slouched, and the hand that wasn't holding onto the icepack was cluthing onto one of her backpack straps.

"There was something in my eye, wasn't ready to- " she was interrupted by vi, "Yeah sure, Cupcake," Caitlyn scoffed at the nickname. Violet's phone dings as she gets a text message. "Oh, Powder's waiting for me in the car, gotta go, see ya later, pirate," she says, teasing Caitlyn. She nods in your direction as a fair well, leaving you and the tall player alone.

All was silent until you broke it. "Don't mind Vi, are you alright?" You chuckle in between your sentences. Her gaze leaves the floor where she is staring down at her untied laces. "Yeah, totally. T'is no big deal, didn't even hurt," she tried to play it off, even knowing that her eye throbbed against the coolness of the bag.

Looking back, you never actually talked to the girl, nor did you know that she had an accent. It was quite cute if you were being completely honest.

"So, uh, nice to meet you... cupcake?" She sighed before speaking. "You can just call me Caitlyn, please," you bit your lip, surpressing a laugh, ready to burst out.

"Alright, Caitlyn," the sound of her name rolling off your tongue sent butterflies to her stomach. "I'm Y/n-".

"We had bio together 2nd year," she blurted out, unaware of how she just happened to remember that in that moment. You stared at her with wide eyes as she let go of her bag strap to scratch behind her neck that didn't even itch, tugging on the small hairs that couldn't be pulled into a ponytail.

She stood there even more embarrassed. Where did all this awkwardness come from. It was usually so easy for her to talk to girls, but something about you made her knees buckle and stomach turn.

There was some small talk between the two of you before you realized it was getting late and you're still standing in the halls of the school. Caitlyn offered to walk you back to your car, and you obliged in appreciation.

-

For the next few weeks, the only messages Caitlyn waits and picks up for are yours. The both of you had grown fond of each other. Hanging out, at first, it was with Vi, but soon ended up with just the two of you alone. She would walk you to your classes, not bothering about the time she had left for passing period. Jogging towards your spot in the bleachers after games.

All the girls she was once in contact with were blocked on her phone. She only had eyes for you.

Months pass, and you finally give in to her flirtatious gestures. One study night at her place, you both laid on her queen sized bed. Your backpacks are sitting on the floor of her bed, binders and papers cover the end of her matress as you both were making out on her freshly cleaned sheets. Legs tangled with each other as you and her laid on your sides. Your arms around her neck as she has one hand behind your head, pulling you impossibly close, and her other roaming the curves of your side. You were both lost in each others grasp.

For so long, she dreamt of finally being able to touch you as she palmed herself late at night in her bed. And here you were, tongues exploring each others mouths, saliva strings connecting your lips to her plump ones.

So lost in each other that you almost missed the knock at her bedroom doors. The handle turned, and the door creaked open. You both pushed off each other. Your push was accidentally too aggressive as she fell off the side of her bed with a thud. The bed was angled enough from the door so that when Caitlyn's mom, Cassandra, entered the room, the blue-haired girl was out of sight.

"Hello, Y/n, do you happen to know where Caitlyn had gone off to?" Her poor mother, so polite. You are sat up on her comforter with homework placed in front of your lap. "She's in the restroom, Mrs. Kiramman," you say, hiding the fact that you're out of breath and your face is bright red like a tomato. "So, I see. When she comes back, please let her know to come to my office for a moment," The older woman closes the door behind her after you say, "Of course, maam".

After a long minute of waiting for her mother to leave down the hall, you crawl to the side of the bed and see Caitlyn on her back with her arm slung over her face, holding back a silent laugh. You both begin to laugh as you asked, "Are you okay?" You grab her arm to remove it from her beautifully sculpted features. Her deep blue eyes meet yours, and you're mesmerized. "I'm alright, thank you," she sits up, and before you can say another word, she pulls you from the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss.

-

Soon after, she takes you out and asks you to be her girlfriend, but with a boundary of keeping it a secret. The more people are aware of the newfound relationship, the more likely her parents would find out. It didn't bother you to the core, but it was different.

As if luck wasn't on your side, her parents almost always managed to catch you both barely while you work at each others bodies.

One evening, she invited you over for a movie night, and the next thing you know, you're pushed deep into the plush couch of her living room with your thighs squeezing around her head tightly, as she's kneeled on the floor with your fingers tangled into her luscious navy blue hair and your other hand gripping the cushions behind you. The Kiramman heir is talented with her tongue. Swiping up long stripes from your entrance to your aching clit. The sounds were lewd, wet and loud, of her ravaging your pussy that needed her mouth so badly. You've ever felt such ecstacy before meeting her. Feels as if the moment you two began being intimate with each other, she knew where to please you and knew what would feel good.

Your irises rolled back, and your toes clung to the fabric of her shirt. Your moans were like music to her ears, wishing she could have you like this always. Both her hands grabbed at your flesh. One giving special attention to the mounds of fat on your chest and the other thrusting two fingers into your pulsing heat, curling them at a certain angle that drove you over the edge.

The air felt hot and heavy. Caitlyn's dick was out free and soaked in your spit from your ealier oral attention, her tip rubbing against the cloth of the couch. She humped against it, creating friction she needed. All was well till you saw silhouettes of a man and woman outside the window curtains near the front door.

Through broken moans you panick, "Ah- Fuck... Cait," you tug her hair and she looks at you confused before turning to the door. She quickly, but carefully picks you up off the couch. As soon as your feet hit the cold floor, you felt like jelly. Bad timing for Caitlyn to take your ability to walk. She brought you over to a nearby closet filled with hanging jackets and shelves of shoes and shoved your clothes into your arms before giving you a quick peck to your lips.

She practically jumped into her sweatpants and tucked her spit-slicked cock into the waistband to hide her hardened length. Her parents' keys could be heard as it worked to open the large door. When the noble couple stepped inside, their daughter sat on the couch watching where you and her left off on the movie.

"Hello, Caitlyn," her mother greets. Her father was about to say the same before he sniffed the air and tugged to loosen the business tie around his neck. "Darling, what is that smell?" He says, looking around the room. Caitlyn, with a nonchalant look to her face while she lights a candle on the side table next to the couch. "Im not sure," Sweat threatened to slide down her temple. Her blue eyes darted to the closet door that you hid in. Mr. Kiramman walked in your direction to put his coat away. She never stood so fast in her life she thought she'd pass out. Walking over to her father, she guides him to a small table where she had put the mail. "Dad, I saw this envelope from earlier, looks important," she put the pile of mail in his hands. "Oh well, thank you, Caitlyn," he says before heading towards his office where his wife followed after him.

"Phew," she sighed, hurrying towards your hiding spot where you had your hand covering your mouth to shield your heavy breaths. She opened the sliding doors to your shocked state, worried that you had been caught. You were still naked, legs shaking with arousal dripping down your skin. She gently caresses your cheek, comforting a soft smile from your lips. You take her hand as she helps you out of the closet, bringing you to the closest bathroom where she had you sit on the counter and helped you back into your clothes. Unfortunately, you both blue balled that night.

-

There was one place where Mr and Mrs. Kiramman couldn't catch you and your super hot girlfriend, the backseat of her car in a dark empty parking lot being lit by the tall light polls. Being the offspring of two rich, important people, she drove a huge murdered out cadillac escalade. The windows were tinted, and the interior was expensive leather. The backseat was large enough and had room for you both to lay.

The sun had gone down a few hours ago. Caitlyn had taken you out to a nice dinner after her team had won a basketball championship while being mvp on the court. The gym was filled in cheers from the crowd, and her teammates shouted in victory. Vi ran up to Cait and lifted her off her feet to congratulate the star of the game. The restaurant was dimly lit by glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and candles placed on tables. The navy-haired woman was cleaned up, wearing a black pant suit with her hair down resting on her broad shoulders.

As you sat down, she wanted to be extra fancy by ordering wine, but she got ID'd for not being 21 by the waiter (buzz kill). She was romantic and knew how to bring your face to a bright red. Knew how to make you laugh and overall make you want to bend over for her. Dinner was good, yet unbearable with the ache between your legs. The two of you basically hurried out of there, almost forgetting to pay.

Now, here you are, both sat in the backseat, straddling her bare lap as you bounced on her hardened cock. Your bodies fully exposed to each other with goosebumps along your skin. Hands on her shoulders, as hers gripped your hips with bruising strength. Your lips were attached to her neck, sucking and biting the flesh, turning it purple. Her head was thrown back on the seat with her eyes closed tightly. You watched in awe how undone you've made her. Her face wincing from the squeezing pleasure you've given her. Causing you to gain the stamina to bounce harder on her.

Caitlyn was lost in the deep red sea of your pussy as you tightened around her shaft. Each bounce stroked her from tip to hilt repeatedly. Her cock was so deep inside, it kissed your cervix painfully, your clit making contact with her pelvis as you landed.

The windows were completely fogged over, with handprints scattering its area. Her car rocked with each movement. Both your moans overcame the music playing on the bluetooth. The claps of your skin colliding with hers rang in your ears.

"Ha- fuck," you moaned. Caitlyn was not paying attention. Her head was still thrown back as she just sat there enjoying as you rode her. You took one of your hands from her shoulders to tug at her ponytail, bringing her face towards yours. Her eyelids drooped, looking fucked out and exhausted. She crashes her lips onto yours, kissing you hard. The kiss was messy, and your tongues danced together. Saliva strings connecting you both together.

Your movements began to slow as you grew tired. As if energy was transferred over, her kiss became brutal. Tongue dominating yours to explore the inside of your mouth. Her body leaned into you to get closer. If getting closer was even possible at this point. She pulled away from the kiss to watch as your body moved.

Grinding down on her, her erection rubbed against your sweet spot deliciously. Her sapphire eyes stared onto your perfectly round boobs, taking one nipple into her mouth sucking it hard like a hungry babe. "Fuck baby, you're so good," she said, mouth full of your chest mounds. The grip on your hips started to get rough as she helped you move, getting your body to continue bouncing. The sounds of your moans against her ear and your wet cunt swollowing her long cock whole was obscene. Straight out of a porno.

She had never felt this good before. Never with any other girl she's fucked for her own enjoyment made her feel the way she feels in this moment. Never had one of those girls made her fall head over heels. She was in love with you and wanted only you.

Her mouth left your boob with a pop. With the remaining strength and endurance she had left in her, she lifted you. Without pulling out of your cunt to pushed you down onto the center console. Your body getting stuck between the driver and passenger seat. With a shocked expression on your face, you watched her smirk stupidly before her hips took off. Pounding into you with such speed and force behind each thrust till her thighs burned from the awkward position. Your body moved upwards with each stroke she gave you, and you winced in pain when your skin skid along the leather seats. Your fingernails dug into her shoulders, creating scratch marks ready to bleed.

Your moans grew louder, and her balls slapped against your ass. You felt evey thick vein of her cock rubbing your inner walls. The head breaking through you made you feel like you'd be split into two. "Ahh Cait! You're gonna m-make me fucking cum," you lifted your head to watch her dick disappear within you. Your eyes almost rolled back at the sight of her thrusting into you. Her forhead slick with sweat, bottom lip between her teeth, her boobs bouncing with each pound of her hips onto yours. She gasped, close to her nut bust she watched her dick print on your lower tummy. It turned her on so much more. Her palms pressed down onto where she could see her dick going in and out of you, tickling your g-spot from the outside. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and your velvet walls clenched onto her girth. She moan in unison with you. "Shit so tight. Wanna cum in you," her jaw tensed as you were clamped down hard onto her.

"Fuck fuck Cait!" You screamed. Squeezing her member hard, her balls tightened. You squirted all over her. Your hot fluids coating her pelvis. White cum burst from her tip and into you. Her strokes were slower, riding out both your highs. Long and deep strokes. Your body shook from the intense orgasm. Her eyes were glued to you the whole time while she took control. She craved the faces you made while she fucked you into a mindless sack of flesh. Regaining consciousness from your high, your eyes locked to hers. She stood awkwardly over you, trying to catch her breath before pulling her sore cock out of you.

It's as if the whole world went silent, and you and her were at the center of it all. Your gaze lingered onto hers before following a bead of sweat down to her swollen glossy lips. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you pulled her in to taste the sweet padding of her lips. She sighed into it, feeling relaxed and loved within your grasp. Something she felt safe and vulnerable in.

The kiss broke, and she nuzzled her face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sent of your perfume and sweat. She placed soft pecks to the hickeys on your neck. Kisses that lead up your jaw to your cheek, then reached your forhead. After one final peck to your hairline, she looked up to see the time on the dashboard screen.

She sighed, "It's 3am," she watched as your eyebrows rose and your forhead wrinkled. "Oh shit," you say. A smile widened across your face as you do your best not to giggle. Yet, failed once she began to laugh with you. It wasn't a hilarious laugh it was more comfortable and soft sounding. Like, 'Oh my gosh, we were so caught up in the moment we didn't realize how late it had gotten'.

"Mum and dad are going to kill me," she rested her forhead against yours. You chucked and said, "We'll come up with an excuse."

"I love you."

You stared into her eyes blankly. Surprised by the sudden confession. Her body lifted, just as shocked as you were before taking a deep breath to keep eye contact with you.

"I love you, Y/n," she said it more confidently. It's been months since you both began dating, and you've gotten to know each other for almost a year by now. Confessing love was bound to happen sooner or later.

Your expression relaxed, and a sly smile spread on your lips. "About time, cupcake," you teased. "Oh, you shut up," she laughed.

"I love you too, Caitlyn Kiramman"

_________________________________________

Note: IT IS SO HARD FOR ME TO WRITE SMUT BC I JS WANNA WRITE BACKGROUND AND PLOT TO ITTTT AHHHH!

Also ps: i keep seeing hcs of Caitlyn loving to have reader ride in cowgirl position... and never see it in fics like i eat up that hc sm ugh, need to save a horse so bad🧎🏻‍♀️

Thanks for reading♡ lemme know what you think :)

[interneteclipse]

cait x VB

inspired by this pic of me in the summer !

[jinxvex]

♱ dom, sub, or switch? ft. sevika, vi, jinx, caitlyn, mel, ellie, and abby. ♱

syp. headcanons on whether they would dom, sub, or switch + how they’d do it.

cw: nsfw content!!, degradation, praise, dirty talk, teasing, mocking, dumbification, cursing (obv), daddy/mommy kink, mentions of tying up/gagging, strap-on sex, fingering, cunnilingus, handcuffs, slapping, spanking, pet names (baby, babe, doll, hon, toots, darling, pretty girl, etc.), mentions of soft sex/morning sex, breeding kink, possessive behavior, punishments, hair-pulling, tribbing, mentions of gunplay/knifeplay, just rough and nasty shit!! (+ more...)

disclaimer: this is just my opinion! (and maybe self-indulgent)

sevika: a mean service dom!! (subs very rarely)

♱ she loves to tease/mock/make fun of you during sex! it’s all love though, she knows you enjoy it.

♱ ex. of her teasing/mocking you: "you sound like a fuckin' porn star when you moan like that..." + "fuck, doll. you're suckin' me in that needy pussy. don't need any lube when you're already dripping all over the fuckin' sheets you slut."

♱ dirty talks you as though you’re just a slut that she’s using for her pleasure but her actions are the complete opposite of that! she thoroughly enjoys making you feel good in the way you want to!

♱ brat tamer! sevika will bend that ass over TRUST.

♱ if you like praise, she’s in your ear like, “yeah, baby. you like that shit, huh? makin’ those pretty noises for me.” + “love touchin’ on this wet fuckin’ pussy.”

♱ if you like degradation, she goes crazy. teasing you and belittling you makes her cunt throb, “look at you. you like getting fucked like a whore? fuckin’ pathetic.” + “jus’ wanna get fucked dumb, don’t you? brain gets real empty when you’re full of dick.”

♱ i’ve said this before but she prefers giving over receiving and being the one to make you fall apart. although she won’t deny you giving her pleasure as well, she just doesn’t prefer it.

♱ sevika likes strapping! no, she LOVES strapping. it makes her feel masculine in all the best ways and anything that makes you feel good, she LOVES!

♱ has a thing for titles during sex! or just you saying her name! do with that information what you will...

♱ if she were to sub, she’d lowkey be embarrassed and quiet compared to her talkative nature when she doms (lol).

…

vi: a switch with a SLIGHT preference for domming.

(soft service dom + obedient service(y) sub)

♱ vi has some similarities in the way sevika doms but vi is definitely less mean and prefers to praise you and lowkey baby you (unless you want to be degraded!) she just wants you to feel good + will do anything to achieve that.

♱ she likes using the strap but prefers to use her hands and mouth to make you cum. she loves seeing you cream, gush, & squirt up close.

♱ she NEEDS to see how good she makes you feel and will even ask/beg you to tell her, “c’mon baby, tell daddy how good she’s making you feel? need to hear you, sweetheart.” + “lemme hear you, please.”

♱ + yes!! she likes being called daddy (idc!!) but in a submissive context as well as when she doms. she loves it when you’re mocking her while you fuck her like, “aww. am i making daddy feel good?” and she’s like “fuck yeah, babe. gonna make me fuckin' cum.”

♱ vi likes her wrists cuffed and mouth tied when she’s getting fucked into the mattress + she loves the strap being used on her!!

♱ she just wants to be good for you! praise her! tell her she’s doing good!

♱ vi enjoys letting you stuff her face in your cunt and she likes it when you use her for your pleasure + also enjoys when you pin her down so she has no choice but to let you give her the sloppiest, messiest head imaginable, “oh fuck!! s-shit fuuuuck. right t-there”

♱ tribbing/scissoring with her is like pure heaven! nobody’s even subbing or domming in those moments, just pure desire, need. the feeling of your cunt on hers, the filthy wet noises, and your face make her cum so fast.

♱ chronic lover-girl through and through!! she’s always telling you how much she loves you when she’s in it (or when you’re in it), “love you so much, so perfect f’me, baby.” + “love you! feels s-so good”

…

jinx: a switch with a preference for subbing.

(bratty sub + playful mean-ish dom)

♱ jinx is the type to be sassy/bratty during sex whether she's domming or subbing! she's definitely always pulling your hips/hands towards her so you can fuck her deeper and she's so mean about it, "ughhh, toots, deeper! moreee!! you're not fucking me hard enough!"

♱ she always has that needy 'fuck me' look on her face--eyebrows furrowed and eyes glossed over as she bites her lower lip and tries to seduce you into doing whatever she wants. it works too.

♱ she gets carried away with the dirty talk. i mean CARRIED AWAY, "d'ya like the way my pussy feels against yours, baby? how wet 'n creamy i am? 'm all riled up for you, hon." + "wanna fuck ya next, make you gush all over 'n mess shit up!"

♱ wants to be put in her place deep down...

♱ jinx also loves soft sex; the feeling of you gently pinning her legs in the air when you both wake up in the morning and making out with her cunt + she's a head pusher LOL! as kinky as she is, it's your softness and willingness to please her that makes her truly feel good.

♱ a feen for sloppy sex. she loves it all and she's not afraid to get her hands dirty if it means she gets to get off and have fun! she'll have your fingers all pruned up and your mouth dripping wet by the time she's done with you.

♱ she likes to be marked up and claimed + will also mark you up so everybody knows you're hers.

♱ gunplay/knifeplay enthusiast.

♱ jinx loves it when you tell her how perfect 'n pretty she is when she's subbing... when she's domming, however... she's real mean!

♱ sits on your face and holds your head where her cunt is, "keep lickin', sweetness, don't stop until i cum! or else i'll have to hurt cha!"

...

caitlyn: a switch with no preference.

(soft-ish mommy dom + soft/obedient sub)

♱ caitlyn gives mommy dom because she definitely has specific rules for when you can touch yourself (if you're even allowed to) and she's big on manners and politeness. she wants you to be the best girl you can be and will reward you for doing so.

♱ she likes it when you call her mommy in and out of bed, only in private though.

♱ her definition of a 'reward' is plunging her long, thin fingers into your tight wet cunt as she rests her back against the headboard. your upper back is mirroring hers as it rests against her stomach and your lower back pressed plush up against her clothed pussy, "fuck, darling. you're such a little minx, being so good lately. you knew mommy would do this to you, didn't you?" + "good girl. you deserve this," she whispers into your ear as her fingers reach inside you, as deep as they can go.

♱ the type of dom to pick your clothes, shoes, and make-up out for you before special events; especially at fancy dinners and 'n rich piltover people shit. she wants everyone to see that you're hers; that she's got yet another thing for others to be jealous of.

♱ she hates to have to punish you! but she will! let's say you copped an attitude or got needy at one of those important fancy events... that soft mommy dom role that you know and love would come crashing down so fast. rather than comforting whispers of "good girl" near your ears, you hear "you've been such a bad girl. i've got to punish you now, love, i'm sorry." + "but, hey... it'll be over soon. maybe next time you'll think about being such a misbehaving little whore.”

♱ as punishment, she puts her strap on you and forces you to watch her ass jiggle and thighs shake as she bounces on the faux cock in reverse cowgirl. if you even think about touching her, you're in for it.

♱ queen of spanking your ass and rubbing a soothing hand over it when she's done, profusely apologizing for causing you pain. but she had to do it! or else you'd never learn.

♱ when she subs for you, she's so loud. not talkative, but loud. her moans echo through her private chambers as you pleasure her.

♱ your name is on repeat when she subs!! she's always saying it.

♱ she likes when you pull her ponytail and slap her ass when you hit it from the back, she's verbal then-- always urging you to "mmm, pull harder, yes!! like t-that..." + "s-shit, please make me cum, p-please."

...

mel: a controlling/power bottom sub.

♱ mel is the type of sub who has dom energy but channels that into being the most pleasure-seeking power bottom sub ever!! that doesn't mean she doesn't care about your pleasure, but she prefers receiving compared to giving when engaging in sex with you.

♱ she loves to grab at your ass when you're strapping her in missionary to force you to fuck into her deeper, harder, and faster, "more. give me more." + "are you going to fuck me? or slack off the entire time?"

♱ bratty asf!

♱ when you finally do put her in her place, she's speechless. you have her in doggy style, forcing her back into a painful arch as you manhandle her hips up and down on your strap--you unmoving as her warm walls slide smoothly along the thick ridges of the plastic dick. her eyes roll to the back of her head as her mouth forms a perfect O shape, "uh-uh-uhng fuck! mmph!" + "yes! yes! yes! f-fuck!"

♱ when you're eating her out, she's much like jinx, tangling her hands in your hair while grinding her messy cunt along your mouth.

♱ wants to be filled up. (chronic breeding kink)

♱ to add to that, mel ikes to roleplay as if she's forcing you to cum inside her, wrapping her legs around your waist, strong grip trapping you. her voice is dripping with desire, a need to be claimed--taken, "yes, my sweet. cum inside me. don't you fucking pull out."

♱ the times when she does touch you, she's looking deep into your eyes as she does so, needing to see the way she affects you.

♱ tribbing princess! she twerks her ass on your cunt like she's made for it, "yes, honey, i looove that... fucking cunt's so wet f'you, love."

♱ i have an inkling that mel likes being punished... she craves someone who will force her to take responsibility and accountability.

...

abby: a MEAN ass hard dom. just plain mean.

♱ abby is EVIL. like the meanest on this list. she FUCKS. HARD.

♱ she doesn't like subbing, i fear! she likes receiving but not subbing.

♱ if you thought sevika was mean, you've got another thing coming if you don't think abby is much worse. the way she taunts and borderline bullies you when she fucks you is criminal (criminally hot).

♱ ex. of "taunts and borderline bullies you": "take it. take this shit. why you runnin', huh? you were beggin' me to fuck this fuckin' cunt just a second ago, right, slut? so you'd better suck it up and just take it." + "yeeeahh, you nasty little whore. takin' daddy's dick sooo well, babe." + "mm, fuck!! you need this dick. you need this fuckin' shit."

♱ daddy is what she wants to be called. plain and simple. if you slip up and accidentally call her abby when she's in it, she's pressing herself deeper inside of you, thrusting in you painfully, "what did you say, bitch? what did you fuckin' say?!" + "not my name, baby. 's daddy to you. daddy's the one who makes this pussy gush."

♱ will fuck you in front of a mirror and force you to keep eye contact with her regardless of whether it's her cock or her fingers drilling your hole.

♱ eye contact is important for her, she's slapping you across the face if you divert your eyes away from her own after she specifically ordered you not to, "the fuck?! told you to look at me, princess. look at me when i'm fucking you, kay?"

♱ slaps you! chokes you! gags you! ties you up!

♱ her tough facade slightly cracks when she gets lost in the way you're rolling your hips in a circle, clit rubbing against hers, "s-shit's gonna make me nut, baby." + "fuuuck! that pussy's perfect, babe."

♱ yes, she says "nut" when talking about cumming unironically. sue me.

♱ the thought of breeding you, getting you pregnant has her FERAL. the first time she heard you mutter a quiet "cum in me, daddy." had her hips stuttering for a second, eyes flashing with feelings of an almost primal instinct. the only thought that was running through her mind at that moment was ‘breed. breed. breed’, "f-fuckin' hell, angel. do you want daddy to cum in you? put a baby inside you?" + "wanna get you fuckin' pregnant. gonna fuck you until my cum is spilling out."

♱ CEO of daddy kink and rough, nasty sex.

...

ellie: a switch with an unknown(?) preference.

(playful/chill dom + shy sub)

♱ ellie is a bit more laid back/chill when it comes to domming! she's not super big on punishments and rules and all that jazz (unless you asked her to be) and she enjoys you willingly submitting to her without having to do too much.

♱ an enjoyer of fun, and sometimes silly sex.

♱ she loves to talk to you and embarrass you a little bit! if you're noisy or audibly wet, you're not hearing the end of it from her, "daaamn, babe. you hear that? you hear that, huh? 's me making that pussy wet." + "you're so loud, baby, you like puttin' on a show, yeah?"

♱ (s)trap queen! she enjoys using it and having it used on her!

♱ she won't degrade you as much but she occasionally mixes it in with her usual praise, "fuck, pretty girl. you really are a slut but... just for me though, hmm?" + "you look so beautiful all exposed for me."

♱ ellie can get possessive when she's in it. she's always using "me" and "mine" to verbalize her claim on you.

♱ the best at fingering on this list...

♱ her favorite way to be dominated by you is when you flip her over and fuck her from the back. it's such a pretty sight; her bent over with her back arched fucking back on you while you pin her down, forcing her to just, take it.

♱ ellie likes it when you use her own words against her (from when she was dominant) and throw it in her face, "you hear that, ellie? you hear that little pussy getting wet for me, huh?" + "you're so loud, ellie. gonna wake up our neighbors."

♱ wants her ass slapped raw.

♱ she goes "uugh, uh, uh, ungnh, f-fuuck!!" when you fuck her. she gets very overwhelmed with how good she's feeling and blacks out.

...

ignore the insane amount of tags...

[yameoto]

caitvi fuckgirls x virgin!reader

femmepussy (cait) + butchcock (vi) = deflowering you

tw; sorority!caitlyn & fratbro!vi bc i succumbed to lust, virgin!reader, voyeurism, masturbation, pussyeating, pussyfucking, praise, mild agegap (senior!caitvi x freshman!reader). wc; 2.2k

they’re no strangers to bringing girls home. they’ve refined it to an art. or at least, caitlyn has. vi is still prone to flash a wink with a drink clasped in hand, and a sleazy (though it looks more sultry, on her), “my girlfriend and i saw you from across the bar, and..” when she’s feeling real lazy.

it still works, of course. of course it does. who wouldn’t want to get in-between the most legendary couple on campus? fraternity president and sorority president, all at once—college politics aside—it’s anybody’s wet dream.

tonight, it’s your turn. if the two pairs of hands wandering up your body downstairs, we’re anything to go by—and the matching smirks curving their lips as you were led gently away from the party and into one of the rooms above (door, plastered with a VI, to leave no room for argument. the frathouse always did throw the grandest ragers).

caitlyn leans against the doorway, tongue prodding the inside of her cheek as she eyes down the both of you, shamelessly. the room is plastered with posters you think your dad might've liked when he was sixteen, and countless football trophies and college memorabilia. not that analysing vi's room decor is exactly what's on your mind, right now—not when you're splayed back in the middle of a double-size bed, sheets crumpled under you, with aforementioned room owner sprawled in the space between your legs, her girlfriend steadily approaching, from the side.

"shit. you're just a lil' baby, huh?" vi's eyes are lidded as she plays with the hem of your shorts, pink hair all ruffled. her big hands swallow the span of your thighs, and she grins, lazy, at the sight.

"vi. don't be crass," caitlyn chastises, like her gaze isn't practically stripping you down with laser-focus. she honest to god licks her lips; because—who wouldn’t? pretty girl on a pretty girl, laid out like a pair of perfect presents, upon the bed. "you'll scare the poor girl."

"oh, c'mon, cait." vi grins, "i know the thought of defiling a freshie gets you wetter than a supersoaker."

this is all moving so fucking fast, you almost feel dizzy. can't breathe, because—well—holy fucking shit. as if your ramping discomfort is sensed, a calloused hand rests on your shoulder, and the tension melts away.

"you can't get better than us," vi soothes, in her smug, infinite wisdom. "just relax, sweetheart. we'll take good care of you." her hands are already snaking under, before a little tutting noise halts her movements. vi's head snaps up, like a puppy to a clicker, the beginnings of a despairing frown marring her pretty features. caitlyn’s smirk is gloating.

"take an off-side, darling. i found this one, first."

vi's jaw drops, shooting upwards in incredulity. "what? but—"

caitlyn shoots her girlfriend a sharp warning glare that sends a jolt of lighting straight to your cunt, and vi wilts like a curling petal, sulking all the way to the couch on the opposite-end to the bed. she collapses, legs swinging wide in the most egregiously delectable manspread of all time. the position shows off the most insane boner you've ever had the pleasure of seeing. the tent spears upwards like a fucking skyscraper, towering up at the crotch of vi's jeans as it's if attempting to burst free from its restraints.

then, vi's fly comes loose, and the veined girth of her cock slaps out in all its glory, bouncing against her toned abdomen and smearing a trail of slick behind. thick, hot-pink hairs crawl upwards from its base to just under her belly button. the aftermath of pre-cum glosses over locks, glistening under the dim lights.

oh, god. this is better than porn.

"see that? that's all for you." caitlyn purrs, and the red flushes to the tips of your ears, blood roaring. you don't even realise you've let out a whine, thighs shifting subconsciously, when vi grunts out a low, "fuck," and palms her dick.

caitlyn's tongue wraps around the swollen nub of your clit, and all of a sudden, you know exactly why people say caitlyn's tongue is like silver. she works, languidly, at first. heat licks up your thighs, and out of the blurry corners of your vision, you can see vi's hand wrap around her cock. caitlyn laves up the nooks and crannies of your folds in little flicks, gaze gossamer as the ferocity of her eyes pin you down.

plush lips barely graze your cunt, and humiliatingly, a garbled moan wrenches from your throat, body snapping taut with the force of an elastic band, caitlyn freezes, and you're made intimately aware of just how wet you are, and you've done nothing but squirm a little as they simply take their positions.

"don't be embarrassed, lovely," cailyn laughs, when your thighs quiver like they're about to squeeze shut—keeping you spread open, with the press of a palm, nails grazing up your abdomen. "it's flattering."

what caitlyn finds, in the first fifteen seconds of eating you out, is that you are extremely fucking sensitive. by the nth jerk of the knee, and those delicious, strangled whimpers that stream out of your pretty panting mouth; she has to ask.

"is this your first time?”

"why?" your hands are fisted into the sheets, knuckles bled white. "is it bad? am i bein’ bad?”

oh, caitlyn's always been a sucker for the whimpering type.

“no, darling,” she coos, nosing up the wet headiness of your pussy, pupils edging out the sharp, cerulean blue of her irises because, oh, she can’t let you realise just how wet you’ve just made her. a virgin. she can feel her already-damp panties, become renewed with a gush of slick as she slides her hands up your thighs, groin subtly grinding through her clothes and against the edge of the mattress because—fuck.

"fuck, i'm so hard," vi whines, a little desperate as she makes the widest puppy-eyes from the sofa, cock drooping in her hand as it pumps out an insane amount of pre like it's nobody's business. her knee has been jostling up and down like it's about to jackhammer a hole in the carpet. she's teetering on the precipice of simply exploding all over the two of you, eyes glazed over as her teeth grit in the effort to restrain herself. because if she cums; caitlyn won't let her fuck you, and call it the alcohol, her dick, or pure, dumb horniness; but there is literally nothing she wants more on this earth, right now—than to bury her cock inside of you and fuck you to oblivion.

caitlyn, however, is playing your pretty virgin pussy like a fiddle. you thrash, back, on the sheets, slew of broken moans torn from your lips. she’s drunk on lust. god, the way you tremble under her, bundle of nerves reacting to each and every one of her barest licks with the harshest gasps or clamp of your thighs. you’d have her wrapped in a headlock, by now, if it weren’t for the force in which she’s a splayed you open—right for vi’s prying eyes, as the older girl furiously fists her cock, frustration burning in her gut at being forced to only look, but barred to touch.

"cupcake," vi pleads, as both you and caitlyn's gazes turn on her. yours, baleful and uncomprehending, hips canting uselessly to chase after caitlyn's retreating mouth. she hushes your whimper (but coos all the same).

"i'm dyin', here," vi moans, and with the flushed tint of her cheeks and sweat glistening in the creased furrows of her brow; hand quivering around her dick—she almost looks like she is. caitlyn laughs, and your pussy throbs when hot breath gusts against your clit.

caitlyn sighs, exaggerated. the both of you can see the smug glint to her eyes, at the way she's worked both her babies, up. (and what a slip of the mind, that is? not an hour in the bedroom, and she's already calling you her baby. their baby.) she lifts up from between your legs, with one last kiss planted directly onto the deliciously glossy wetness of your swollen clit (yes, you shake), before coaxing vi forwards.

vi lunges forwards, like a starved lion thrown it's first scrap of meat, and suddenly the silken fingers dragging up your thighs and the soft lips kissing teasingly along your folds—is replaced by a desperate, fervid nuzzling and slobbering, as vi mouths desperately up your legs.

"i gotta—" she mumbles into your cunt, hands spreading you so wide they almost hurt. "i need—baby—please. i gotta be in you. i gotta— y'pussy smells so good. looks so pretty an' wet an'—" her growls are practically gibberish. caitlyn snorts. she, too, is partial to seeing vi a drooling mess.

you don't have much mental space, to do more than nod, heart thudding out of your chest. distantly, you hear a groaned "fuck, yes!" from underneath you, though any further processing that (surprisingly adorable) comment—is wrenched away by the vi is clambering on top to mount you, flat of her dick sliding along your folds. you both gasp, your chest lurching upwards—before caitlyn's manicured hand pushes you right back down.

"relax," she coos, as vi's weight sinks on top of your thighs, "it'll be easier, that way." vi is practically trembling in an attempt not to just ram herself into you. her head brushes against your core, and it feels like water. vi moans, almost buckling in anticipation. "can i please—"

you think maybe caitlyn nods her head, or gives some other indication of affirmation; because you can't see anything but spinning stars in your vision the second vi pushes, into you.

you're forced to turn your head, biting into the sheets to stifle what you're sure would be screams—until caitlyn gently takes your head, and shifts it to bury between her thighs. the heat from caitlyn’s core is distracting and tempting and has you drooling, though completely useless to do anything but pant and moan and mewl, helplessly into it, as vi‘s cock plows into you with a fullness you’ve never felt before.

“careful with her, baby.”

“i’m trying,” vi huffs through gritted teeth, her own eyes burning because her head is whirling with entirely unhelpful thoughts, like, holy shit, is she the first one to use your tight little hole like this? and oh, fuck, am i good? am i hurting her? this is her first time. shit. and then, just oh, fuck.

you unravel, midway around the girth of vi's cock. you spam, upwards, mangled croon resonating up and into caitlyn’s cunt, hips bucking up and unintentionally slamming vi hilt-deep, and like a seismic chain-reaction; both of them cry out at once. vi, at the sensation of being completely sucked into the tight, wonderful clench of your pussy, submerged completely in the all-encompassing heat as your orgasm shatters your body and mind into what feels like a million little peaces. caitlyn, can't not cum, with the taste of you still glazing her tongue and the way you cry out, into the sloppy slick of her folds and reverberating to her core. it's not just that, though. it's the way you babble, squirming uselessly as your eyes roll into your head and your lashes flutter like the prettiest thing, mouth lolling open around caitlyn's creaming cunt. it takes, a moment, for the three of you to recover. vi is slumped into your chest, cock still twitching as her head kisses your burning insides. caitlyn's legs have fallen limp. it's only when they start to move, vi shakily, reluctantly, sliding out from your cunt—and caitlyn's thighs, loosening from your shoulders—that you protest.

"wait," you rasp, eyes all glossy as you peer up at them through teary lashes, and fuck, for a moment they think; jesus christ. you might just be the most precious thing in the world. "i— i wanna try." you declare, pushing up weakly on your elbows.

"you want to try?"

"wanna make you feel good," you slur, into her thighs, and unbidden, caitlyn feels a whole new gush of heat rush through and slick your pink-dusted cheeks in an entirely new type of sheen.

"..i always did like the ones with a little initiative."

and when you burrow yourself into caitlyn’s cunt, trying to mimic the motions she’d done before to get you feeling as if you were floating on cloud nine; her fingers card through your hair, and vi rocks her hips, still into you, catching her breath as she nuzzles into your collar.

“..feel so good, baby. doin’ so well.” she pants, thumb running up the curves of your body, eyes lifting to fix caitlyn with starry eyes and caitlyn can’t help but swallow, her fingers quivering as you swirl your tongue like a good little pupil and she arches her head back, satisfied “ah,” shuddering though her. and they realise, then, that they’re kind of fucking besotted.

“can we keep her?” vi murmurs, and you’re so deep in caitlyn’s pussy that you almost miss it. caitlyn’s lips curl upwards, head in a daze, as her grip tightens in your hair—loathe to let you go.

“god, please.”

[hexxedcore]

18+ MDNI

caitlyn, who is shameless in pampering you and spoiling you. you deserve only the best, of course, and with her family luxury it isn’t as though the expenses will be missed by her parents.

caitlyn, who makes sure her purchases are going to good use by making you test out each pair of lacy navy panties she buys with her.

caitlyn, who indulges in a well-deserved form of stress relief in the shape of you after coming home from her new demanding position beside ambessa. who essentially gets pussy drunk after driving you past your fragile limits.

caitlyn, who takes advantage of her family’s spacious mansion to take you just about anywhere and everywhere should the desire arise. tobias still refuses to sit on the common room lounge.

caitlyn, who apologises for each hour she was away by punctuating them in kisses up your thighs before she eats you out. who takes you with the hunger of a starving woman.

[jinxyjinxer]

˗ˏˋ MEALTIME ˎˊ˗ how they give head

⟢ characters : Ambessa Medarda, Caitlyn Kiramman, Ekko, Jayce Talis, Mel Medarda, Sevika, Silco, Vander, Vi, Viktor

⟢ warnings : non-specified genitals, head (reader receiving), possible wlw and mlm

˗ˏˋ STARVED ˎˊ˗

They give head as if it was their last time doing so. They're sloppy, getting you and whatever surface is underneath you two wet. Not only that, but they do not fear of getting too messy, in fact it turns them on even more. They'll eat you so long until they're satisfied, often leaving you overstimulated and sore afterwards.

⟢ Jayce Talis, Silco, Sevika, Vi, Vander, Viktor

˗ˏˋ TEASINGLY ˎˊ˗

They're a tease and probably have some sadistic tendencies. Whenever they find themselves having your privates in their face, they can't help but do everything to make you when and beg for them to finally let you finish. And if that wasn't enough, they take great pride in seeing you cry from frustration, even getting turned on by the hot liquid rolling down your cheeks.

⟢ Ambessa Medarda, Caitlyn Kiramman, Sevika, Silco

˗ˏˋ GENTLE ˎˊ˗

For them, giving you head is solely there to pleasure your needs instead of their own. Which doesn't mean they don't enjoy themselves of course, in fact they find seeing your pleasure contorted face arousing, knowing it's them who gives you all this pleasure and not someone else.

⟢ Ekko, Jayce Talis, Mel Medarda, Vander, Vi, Viktor

[strwberrybils]

AHHHH UR WORKS ARE SO GOODDD!!! can I request a part 2 of rival!cait where reader gets hurt on a mission and cait just then realizes that she actually loves reader and starts being sort of nice towards reader and their hookups start being vanilla and eventually reader comforts cait and they get together!!!

PT. 2 WITH RIVAL!CAITLYN

contents. caitlyn kiramman 𝑥 fem!reader. smut and fluff. oral (r receiving). lots of cute love dovey shit. love confession.

masterlist ‧₊˚ taglist

gabi’s quick thoughts. sorry this took so long but here you go!! here's the first snippet for those who didn't see it :)

the silence in the infirmary is louder than anything you’ve ever heard on the field.

you blink what feels like eons of sleep out of your eyes, your vision a bit blurred due to injuries. there’s a dull ache that spreads through each and every rib in your body, encompassing pain building up in your entire chest area. 

instinctively, you grab your chest and heave out, eyes scanning the room around you. there’s an aura of saline and cleaning supplies that’s thick in the air, paired with the sounds of beeping and blinding med-grade lights. 

there’s a figure that’s sitting at your bedside and you blink hard— twice— and your whole face softens when you see her. 

“c-caitlyn?” you rasp out and she immediately perks up, her perfect posture somehow straightening out even more, and you’re too tired and lightheaded to offer a slick one-liner like you usually would. 

“you’re awake.” she remarks, her breath full of relief and her eyes gleaming with something foreign. she’s not in her usual attire— instead, a dark blue robe with a lacy bra underneath. you’ve never seen her this vulnerable— hair all mussled against her scalp, her uniform discarded to God knows where, her iridescent eyes reverent and almost…scared. albeit, it’s alluring. 

you wait to respond to her statement. the way she’s looking at you, hard and longing, you’re sure that she’s got something else she wants to say. she folds her hands over her own lap, sighing out, her eyes drifting to the floor like she’s burdened with guilt. 

“it should’ve been me,” caitlyn strains, “i was too slow… it’s all my fault.”

your head tilts in confusion, though she doesn’t see you do it. “what happened?” you inquire gently, and she runs a trembling hand through her hair, reluctant to answer. whatever took place hours prior was clearly enough to make her feel like she had failed you.

there’s something different about her. you knew she wasn’t that careless to leave you injured and alone in your bed, but the way she’s speaking to you, her whole demeanor— it wasn’t the usual her. no, this was a completely and utterly different caitlyn kiramman that you were speaking to. 

she folds her arms above her chest, “you took a pretty bad blow. it all happened so fast, and i— it was supposed to be me.” she repeats, “but you…you jumped in front of me. it was bloody brave of you, might i say.”

she tries to give a light-hearted chuckle at the end, but it’s short-lived. her chin drops in embarrassment, out of shame, and it speaks to you like a nonverbal apology. you reach your hand out to touch hers, “i’m glad that you weren’t the one that was hurt.” 

her head raises, slowly, and she looks at you like she never has before. her whole face is so much lighter, and not to be mistaken with pale— her eyes are full and bright, her features literally softening when she looks at you. 

something is way off of its axis. the both of you are usually either at each other's necks or in between each other’s legs, no in between. but there was a greyer area now, something that was much more tender, and the quick difference made you have whiplash. 

but you’re too exhausted to comment on it, so you sink into the cushions of the infirmary bed and allow sleep to overtake you, the last thing your ears hearing is that caitlyn will always take care of you, and you aren’t sure if you’re just imagining it, but you surely hope not. 

it’s been two weeks since you and caitlyn’s mission, and nonetheless, things had began to grow even more weirder than before. 

when you were allowed to return home, she helped you round up all of your belongings and move them back to your place. instead of bickering the whole time, caitlyn was nothing but gentle with you, almost to the point that it made you feel like she saw you like a child. but you knew it was out of kindness, which is something that she hadn’t really ever shown you, and you basked in the moment as long as you could. 

only two days after you were allowed to be left alone, you were woken up by the ringing of your doorbell. worn and slightly sore, you peeled off your covers and padded to your front door, pulling it open and being met with a bouquet of flowers and a card. with a mere wince, you bent down and grabbed them, closing the door back and plopping onto your couch. 

the flowers were beautiful. an assortment of greens, blues, and pinks were woven together to create an elegant yet unique number, and the card likewise. it was hand-painted, and had a stick figure of you smiling on the cover, which made you laugh. 

you opened it, and your heart immediately melted when your eyes scanned over the neat, cursive lettering.

dear y/n,

i do truly hope you’re feeling better by now— though i suspect you’re still too stubborn to rest properly. you always were annoyingly persistent, even when bleeding.

the latest missions have been far too quiet without your sarcasm echoing through them. ridiculous, i know, considering how much i’ve claimed to hate your voice. (i don’t.)

i won’t pretend this whole ordeal hasn’t rattled me more than i care to admit. seeing you like that, on the ground, in pain— it made something feel off in me, something i haven’t quite managed to ignore since.

i suppose what i’m trying to say, in my tragically roundabout way, is that i care. more than i meant to. more than i should, maybe. and if that frightens you, know that it terrifies me too.

if you’re up for company (or just need someone to shout at), i’ll be by the precinct— or outside your door, depending on how brave i’m feeling today.

take care of yourself. please.

— caitlyn

if the recent interactions that you’ve had with her didn’t make you confused, this definitely did. it felt like she was admitting something in her letter, though you weren’t fully understanding the intended context. you still appreciated the gesture, and made sure to thank her whenever you saw her next. 

day after day, more spontaneous gifts would land on your doorstep, from treats to more bouquets, and even an entire self-care basket full of all your favorite things. though you appreciated the gestures from the bottom of your heart, earnestly, the only thing that you really wanted was caitlyn herself. 

in present time, you had just finished eating when the doorbell rang, and you were expecting to be met with another round of gifts, or something likewise. however, when you unlocked and opened the door, you were met with the kiramman girl herself, a little wet-eyed, but she cracked a half smile. 

“hi.” she spoke softly, “can i come in?”

you blinked at her for a moment, hand still on the doorknob.

caitlyn was never one to look unsure of herself, never one to show emotion so plainly on her face, but now, her eyes were glassy, her usually perfect posture a little slouched. and still, there was that small, almost nervous smile on her lips.

“yeah,” you breathed, stepping aside to make room, “of course you can.”

she walked in slowly, like she wasn’t sure if you’d change your mind, and she was hoping that you wouldn’t. you closed the door behind her, watching as she stood in the middle of your living room, hands clasped in front of her like she wasn’t sure what to do with them.

“didn’t bring flowers this time?” you joked gently, and it made her chuckle— just a soft, genuine sound you rarely got from her, so you appreciated it.

“i thought I’d try showing up instead of hiding behind deliveries,” she said, “though i wasn’t sure if i’d be welcomed.”

you moved toward her slowly, “caitlyn…you always are. i didn’t want the gifts. i wanted… to see you.”

caitlyn looked at you for a long moment, blue eyes searching, and then she looked at the floor, shameful. “i’ve been awful to you.”

“we were awful to each other,” you admitted, “but even then, it was never hate. not really. at least…that’s now what i think.”

caitlyn stepped closer, her eyes still glued to the ground, “i think i told myself it was easier to dislike you than to admit how drawn i was. you infuriated me. and i still thought about you every night.”

“me too,” you whispered, your voice earnest, “even when i wanted to punch you, i still thought about you. yet i treated you like shit.”

she smiled again— tired, almost a little sad— and lifted a hand to your cheek, brushing her thumb gently beneath your eye, “you really scared me,” she said, voice cracking just a little, “when you got hurt… i thought i’d lose you before i ever got to tell you that…”

your hand came up to cover hers, holding it against your cheek, “tell me what?”

a beat passed before she leaned in slowly, and kissed you— soft and easy, like she was making up for every argument, every bicker, every eye roll and frustrated groan that she directed towards you. your hands found her waist, tugging her gently closer, and for the first time, neither of you were trying to win anything.

it was solely just to feel.

you led her to the couch, where she curled into you like she belonged there all along. her fingers traced lazy patterns over your arm as you kissed again— deeper this time, but it was never rushed. caitlyn’s body warmed yours as she leaned over you, kissing along your neck, your jaw, your shoulder, as if she couldn’t get enough of you now that she’d finally let herself have you.

“let me take care of you,” she murmured against your skin, voice thick, “properly this time.”

and you nodded, breathless, “okay.”

caitlyn’s hands roam all along your body, yet her touch is still gentle, careful not to cause any pain from any injuries that may still be healing. your hands find either side of her face as her lips press onto your own, soft and loving, and your cheeks burn at the contrast that you’ve known all along. her usual harshness faded completely, turning into something more honest and vulnerable.

cait’s hands travel down your shoulders to the curve of your breasts, to your stomach, and to your waistband, where her fingers curl and pull down your sleep shorts with a swift movement. you shiver at the sudden cool air, but sigh when her warm hands squeeze your thighs.

“i’m so sorry,” caitlyn whines– literally whines into you, her lips still eagerly latched onto yours, “for treating you so badly."

you don’t respond, because her statement seems rhetorical. she knows you forgive her.

her fingers dip into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to your ankles as she finally breaks the kiss, letting out a whimper like it pains her to do so. you let out a sigh as you watch caitlyn move down to where her head is resting on your thighs, a half-smile etched onto her face, “what do you need from me?”

“i don’t care,” you heave out, “just…just touch me, please.”

caitlyn’s quick to adhere to your request. you spread your legs before she can even ask you to, and her eyes are drawn to your sopping pussy, and they soften at the sight. she brings her fingers up and works them into you gently, curling them just the way you like, and she chuckles at how easily she can work you up. she coaxes her digits in and out of you just right, slow and intimately, her lips falling to kiss and suckle at your clit.

you let out a light moan, caitlyn’s name passing through your lips as you bask in pleasure, eyes fluttering closed and head thrown back. she’s so careful with you, and you can tell that every move she makes is purely out of adoration for you, something way more loving. her fingers gently graze against your sweet spot, her tongue circling around your clit a little harsher now, but nothing like usual. it’s tender.

you’re so sensitive it’s sickening, and caitlyn can tell by the way your hips are bucking into her, the way your hands are finding a fistful of her hair, the way your moans only grow louder as time goes on. she looks up at you with soft blue eyes, “you’re so pretty, darling. i just want to make you feel good.”

you can hardly get any words out, “c-cait, mmph– fuck, i’m…i’m close, please, don’t stop.”

usually, whenever you and caitlyn would have your little hookups, she’d either stop when you were close, or just completely snap you in half until you were lightheaded and worn out. but now, her movements only speed up ever so slightly, and she’s peppering little kisses all on your thighs, your stomach, anywhere she can get without ruining her technique. you feel your body grow tired as you lean back into the cushions, that familiar wave of pleasure washing over you as you cum around caitlyn’s fingers. she coos sweet nothings into your skin, helping you ride out your high before you back away out of sensitivity. she pulls her digits out of you and licks them clean like it’s nothing, and then she looks up at you with gentle eyes, “was that…okay?”

“yes,” you heave, smiling, “yeah. more than okay. c’mere.”

she obliges, grabbing one of the blankets resting on the back of the couch, unfolding it before coming up to lay on your chest, wrapping it around the both of you. your hand comes up to stroke her hair, gently, and caitlyn sighs, “y/n?”

“yes?” you hum.

“i have to tell you something,” she speaks honestly, “but i don’t want it to scare you.”

you nod, and there's an interlude of silence before caitlyn sighs into your chest, “i’m…in love with you.”

you feel your heart soften. the way she says it, quiet and shy, it’s not like anything you’ve ever seen from her before. she’s so vulnerable, laying on your chest, hair a little messy– it’s the first time you’ve ever seen her like this, and you’re not complaining at all.

“cait?”

“yeah?”

“i love you, too. i’m in love with you.”

she reaches for your hand and you let her take it, and she turns to where she’s still laying on your chest, but you’re face to face, your noses touching as the both of you smile at each other for just a moment.

“i want you to be my girlfriend,” caitlyn whispers, “is that…okay?”

“of course it is.” you grin, and pull caitlyn further into your arms, fingers running through her hair gently as the both of you succumb to the pull of sleep, hands intertwined and foreheads resting against one another’s.

₊⊹ taglist: @drunkinyourbenz

[hcneymooners]

⋆ do you love me enough that i may be weak with you?

caitlyn x morally ambiguous!fem!reader x ambessa. men & minors dni.

synopsis: you are in competition with caitlyn for ambessa’s attention. you will follow her, to whatever end. no one draws you in like ambessa does. or so you tell yourself, even as caitlyn's lingering gaze makes your heart stutter. she’s almost desperate to be friends, but you don’t trust that girl by any means. to entertain her is to enable weakness. but, then again, have you ever truly been strong?

cw: a lot wow. age gap, older woman/younger woman, you're the youngest but in your twenties, canon divergence au, toxic relationships, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, power dynamics, impact play, body worship, dirty talk, bdsm dynamics, sub!reader, brat!reader, dom!caitlyn, dom!ambessa, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, tribbing, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, face-riding, slightly dub-con in some parts, kissing, so much kissing, non-sexual intimacy, shower sex, hate sex (but is it really), sexual punishment, implied mental health issues, implied manipulation, you are all up to no good, polyam but is it really we'll see, caitbessa is not in love but they use each other, slight violence (fighting, training, & reader is hurt though not by caitbessa.), enemies to lover, rivals to lovers, slightly dark but not too much, guys i even wrote this properly no lowercase.

wc: 10.03k

soundtrack: give up - fka twigs, careless - fka twigs ft. daniel ceaser, holy terrain - fka twins, your girl - lana del rey (unreleased), & oh my angel - bertha tilman. order is intentional.

notes: this was supposed to be 7k. i need to be locked up. dedicated especially to @megalomaniacz for being the beautiful mind behind the caitbessa note that started it all. definitely one of my favorite things i've ever written.

A COIN’S FIRST SIDE. — CAITLYN.

​​You do not understand her incessant need to look at you.

The day has broken dark and cold. Your body aches with the rigor of being destroyed and depleted timelessly by Ambessa's experienced hands. It is only the three of you in the early morning - you, Caitlyn with her delicate bones wrapped perfectly in binding and sequestered underneath her uniform of buttery, dusky leather, and Ambessa with her arms bare, her face exposed by the careful braiding of her hair that reveals every subtle shift of expression.

It is this, over and over, until your body shudders into collapse. Yet—minute victory or sudden death—Caitlyn must look at you. Even when it's her turn, with her arched back pressed hard into the textured bamboo of the mat, her face crushed against the hollow of Ambessa's palm, she is looking at you. Those eyes, relentless and searching, track your every movement. It drives you utterly insane.

The weight of her gaze feels like another opponent entirely, separate from Ambessa's ruthless instruction. You tell yourself it's determination that keeps you standing, keeps you coming back day after day to this dance of dominance and submission. But there's something else, something in the way Caitlyn's breath catches when Ambessa's fingers ghost over that perfectly formed bruise on her collarbone—the one you gave her yesterday. Something in the way Ambessa's eyes darken when she notices you noticing.

You leave it. You cannot think of it.

Yet it follows you from the training grounds, through the winding corridors where shadows pool like old bruises. Back to the quarters you share with her, where even the air feels thick with unspoken things. It follows you. 

Caitlyn's presence fills every corner of the space you're forced to call home, from the precise way she arranges her rifle components to the lingering scent of gunpowder and leather that clings to her sheets. You are aware of that incessant staring, of the way her eyes rove over your naked chest; your small breasts are cupped dutifully in your hands as you unwrap yourself with a harsh breath.

Teacup tits, she'd called them when she’d once had you pinned against the wooden floor. It had been a day without mats; a day of endless testing. She had leaned in close, teeth gleaming like jewels as she held your stomach down with her hips. She had been sitting on you, and you had floundered then froze at the comments. You didn’t know she could be so brazen, so dirty-mouthed. This follows you too.

You've learned to move around her—around each other—in careful orbit. You are like twin moons, two violent girls with cheeks pressed against each other in the night, caught in some larger gravity - Ambessa's gravity - never touching but always aware. Always watching. 

The way she strips her gloves off finger by finger after training makes your teeth clench. You tell yourself it's irritation, not fascination when she unwinds the bindings from her own chest with methodical precision. Tell yourself you don't notice how the morning's wounds are already blooming across her shoulders, masterpieces in indigo and blue that match the ones Ambessa left on you last week—it doesn’t make it less true.

And Ambessa—sometimes you catch Ambessa watching too. The way her eyes linger on Caitlyn's throat, on the marks her own hands left there. It sparks something warm and dangerous in your gut - not envy, you insist. Never envy. Just hunger, the same hunger that drives you to push harder, to prove yourself worthy of Ambessa's attention, maybe both of your intentions. To prove you're stronger than whatever weakness Caitlyn stirs in you with her endless watching.

But later the envy cannot help but be itself, and you retch into your hands and sink from the vibrations of your anger. You do not trust her. You’ve seen her with that girl, the reckless pink-haired one, and she knows that you’ve seen her. But you are keeping this secret for reasons you don’t understand.

And in the dead of night, when sleep eludes you, you hear Caitlyn's breathing change rhythm across the room. You wonder if she lies awake thinking of the way Ambessa's fingers traced that lesion on her hip today, the one that matched the shape of your knuckles perfectly. Wonder if she knows you're awake too, caught in this web of wanting that none of you dare name. 

🕸

She is desperate for you, in a way that you do not understand. It is easier when she is quiet about it. 

There is an evening where she is loud—where everything is loud—and it rattles you. There is an incessant buzzing, maybe cicadas, and in the beginning, you are enjoying it because it reminds you of home and the way your feet fall into wet earth in the heart of the warm season. But then slowly, you begin to lose your mind and the buzzing is in your teeth and you now feel slightly detached from the world and your body is nothing but heat and you are almost lapping at the screen between the open dormitory window and the world and—

You crawl out of bed. You wear nothing but a sleep shirt two sizes too big, the chest open so that your sweat-laden skin gleams like a body of water. It belongs to Ambessa but it was your father's first until she swallowed your homeland and stole you away. You took it back and she said nothing. Maybe she was impressed with the voracity with which you bit and scratched her in the dark, massive cave of her bedroom.

So, yes, you crawl out of bed. You are swamped in ivory fabric and you drag your feet as you roam the halls. There is movement and it scares you, but you muzzle your mouth with your hand so that your scream dies between your teeth. It's only another guard. You keep moving.

Now, you are in the kitchen. You rummage through spaces until your fingers alight on the thick sphere of a pomegranate. You yank and now it is yours; hard and red in your hands. You turn, and she's there.

Caitlyn moves like water in the dark, all fluid grace even in her own sleep clothes. Her eyes catch the moonlight streaming through the high windows, turning them to pale fire. You clutch the pomegranate tighter, your nails breaking the skin. Juice runs down your wrist.

"Let me," she says, and she's closer now, close enough that you can see the light sheen of sweat on her collarbones. It satisfies you that she is warm too, that she is touchable. Her fingers brush yours as she takes the fruit, and you let her only because you're transfixed by the way she reaches for the small cheese knife on the counter, the way she tests its edge with her thumb. You hope for blood but there is none.

You don't remember moving, but suddenly you're against each other, a dance of hands and breath and barely-contained violence. She pushes, you pull. You spin her toward the table, but she turns it, uses your momentum to send you both sprawling across its surface. Your back cracks against the stone like a bone. Her face crumples momentarily at the sound of your pain, but then she is herself again. The pomegranate rolls away, forgotten until it isn't.

You think of another table, a wooden one from when you were younger. You think of hiding beneath the heavy oak with her, your breaths shallow and hushed as you press close to her side. You were younger then, small enough to fit between her knees, your hands gripping hers like a lifeline. Above, Ambessa’s boots thundered across the floor, her sharp commands reverberating through the room.

“Where are you?” she’d barked, voice like a stone through a window.

But Caitlyn had only grinned, leaning in to whisper, “Don’t breathe."

It's different now. You no longer fit.

She lands on top of you when you hit the floor, pinning you with her hips. The knife glints in her hand, but she just smiles, that same smile from the training mat, the one that makes your stomach clench with disgust and desi—no. She reaches for the pomegranate, and you watch, breathless, as she begins to peel it with delicate precision.

"I'll show you how," she murmurs, and then she's leaning down, pressing her mouth to yours with bruising force. Her teeth catch your lip, and you taste copper, sharp, and sweet like pomegranate juice. When she pulls back, your blood is dark on her mouth, and she licks it away like it's nothing, like this is nothing, continuing to peel the fruit with steady hands.

You buck your hips and she sets the knife down, next to your wrists where your veins gather and bulge like snakes. She holds you down with her core, and you can feel the heat between her legs. There is a moment where you freeze, and she smiles with delight. You buck again and she slams you back down, using a hand around your throat to keep you beneath her like a lamb. Her other hand comes up—the knife, you think in fear—and loiters against herself. Then it moves down, quick and smooth, to raise her slip of a nightgown and bare her creamy thighs. She shifts so that she is atop your stomach, and pushes the shirt up until it’s beneath your breasts. 

She isn’t wearing undergarments, or maybe she is. Maybe they are just thin. Either way, you can feel her against the skin of your belly, warm and weeping. You still aren’t moving, but you are slicking in return. You want to bite her, dig until she releases some sort of sound. 

Then there is a sound - a sharp intake of breath - and you both turn. 

Ambessa stands in the doorway, her expression unreadable in the darkness. For a moment, she watches, her head tilted like she's solving a puzzle. You look back at Caitlyn—who seems unrepentant about her half-nakedness. You put it together, the idea that they have seen one another like this before. The envy is riotous. You ache to kiss Caitlyn again if only to vomit in her mouth. 

It’s as if she knows and so she leans in, holds the side of your head as she feeds you pomegranate seeds from the cavern of her own mouth. Eventually, she is no longer feeding, only taking. She presses harder and harder until you let out a yelp of discomfort. It feels, if you aren’t mistaken, like a claim. 

Ambessa gazes at the two of you for a moment longer, then she turns away. Her footsteps echo down the hall, leaving you with the taste of blood and fruit and Caitlyn's smile against your mouth. 

You regain your strength; you throw her off. 

🕸

You don't sleep. 

Your body vibrates with fury, with want, with the phantom press of her against your stomach. The dawn breaks grey and sullen through the window, and when you dress for training, you notice Caitlyn watching you again. But it's different now - you see the tremor in her hands, the way she swallows when you bend to lace your boots.

The training grounds are empty. No Ambessa. The message is as clear as a blade against the skin, and you want to scream. Instead, you strip and step into the shower block, letting scalding water pound against your shoulders. You hear the door open, close. Her footsteps on the tile.

"Don't," you say, but your voice lacks conviction. You're too tired to maintain the walls between you.

"You think she's punishing us." Caitlyn's voice is closer now. You hear fabric hitting the floor. "She's not. She's giving us space."

You turn, ready to snarl, but the sight of her stops you. She's different in daylight - less predator, more girl. There are shadows under her eyes that match your own. Water beads on her collarbone where last night's sweat had gleamed.

“Get away from me.” She doesn’t. You try again. “Space for what?” 

The question comes out raw.

She steps under the spray with you, and you don't stop her. You watch the way the water falls over her, the spread of the moisture against her staunch skin. She is so angular, so prismatic. You feel as if the world refracts off of her. The water is running cold, so her breasts are erect and straining toward you. You think of drinking from them, more the effort of it, of the space between them where your mouth would fit.

"For this," she says but doesn't touch you. "For whatever this is. I'm tired of watching you pretend you don't feel it too."

"You don't know what I feel."

“I think you are a lonely creature.”

The heat between you evaporates like ash against the wind. Your mouth twists, and she steps toward you. She understands she has misrepresented herself and her intentions. You feel a familiar prickling. Tears. 

“Is this how you see me? A cowardly animal?” Your voice is flat, and she balks with her hands flexing nervously against her thighs.

“No. No. I only meant—if anything we are both animals. We have been trained as such at least.”

“You aren’t making this better for yourself,” you say, turning away. “And you don’t know me in any way.”

"I know you taste like pomegranates." 

You turn back to look at her, incredulous. “I had just eaten one, you little fool.”

“I know you let me kiss you before you threw me off.” Her smile is small, almost sad. “I know you've been keeping my secret about Vi.”

The name hits like a slap. You rise to the bait. 

"Why her?"

"Why Ambessa?"

You have no answer for that. The water runs between you, and for once, you let yourself really look at her. At the desperation in her eyes, the way she’s holding herself like she's afraid you'll bolt. Maybe you've both been hungry for the same thing all along.

Still, it eats at you. This odd way she is pretending to be meek and mild. She is soft in the same ways you are, with the same dips in her hips and calluses along her palm. You think of the panther-like movements of her muscles as she readies a shot. 

Something gathers underneath your tongue, and suddenly you are wailing. Loud and long. You rush at her, but she is waiting for you. She dips, and rams into your stomach as she flips you onto the tile. Though she is fighting back, she’s careful with you. Your head is cupped by her limber fingers as she sends you down. 

You kick and catch your foot on her side. With a gasp, she’s down too, but a hand still manages to grip at the fine bones of your ankle and yank. It hurts, and you make a terrible noise. She releases you as if you’ve burned her, and you twist to get out from underneath her. 

You’re on your belly now, flopping like a fish, but she makes you stay. She wrestles you up so that your back is bent as you press against her chest. You feel her fingers crawl like spider legs down your chest. She fondles, gropes, your tits. She is starved and erratic, pinching your nipples until they are standing on their own. 

Your skin is slippery with soap, so Caitlyn digs her nails in for grip. Then the action stops and her hand descends into the apex of your thighs. You try to jerk, try to send her off but she knows this now. She is understanding. That’s even worse.

She holds you, exactly as you need, and gets two fingers inside of your cunt. She curves them, tries to pull you inside out. You let out another noise, but it is less terrible. She works at you until you cannot remember language, only a deep animalistic noise of ‘uh uh uh’, a rhythm. Her thumb swipes against your clit and you’re there, the pleasure like a blinding fire.

You still try to leave her; you try to crawl. She rolls you over and bullies herself in between your legs until she can place her cheek along your heaving stomach. You begin to cry. You’re unsure why, but maybe Caitlyn knows because she only strokes your inner thigh to soothe you. She looks up at you, hair black with water.

“It can be like this, always. You only need to—”

You shove her and scramble back until you’re sitting on your own. She still watches you, cheek to the tile now.

“No conditions,” she says, reworking her words. “Only us.”

You close your eyes and see pink. You open them and think of your general.

“There will always be her.”

Neither of you knows which woman you’re speaking of.

A COIN’S SECOND SIDE. — AMBESSA.

Sleep does not come that night either. You only try because when there is no session to distract it, your body aches for a bed.

You lie awake, counting the beats between Caitlyn's breaths across the room, replaying the way her cheek pressed against your belly, her lips ghosting over skin as she spoke. The way she looked at you like you were something both precious and perilous, desired and dangerous all at once. Your body still aches from her attention.

A sound draws you from your thoughts - the soft click of your dormitory door. Through barely-opened eyes, you watch Caitlyn rise like a phantom, pulling on a robe. She doesn't look back as she slips out. 

Your feet are moving before your mind catches up.

You follow her through corridors you know by heart, the same path you took for that damned pomegranate. But she goes deeper, down halls you've never dared explore. When she stops at a familiar door—Ambessa's door—your heart clenches.

They speak in whispers you can't quite catch, but you see the way Ambessa's hand cups Caitlyn's face, the way Caitlyn leans into it like a cat being stroked. Your stomach twists violently. But then:

"She's ready," Caitlyn says, just loud enough, still soft. "She just doesn't know it yet."

Ambessa's laugh is low, rich like honey. "Oh, little one. She's been ready since I took her. We're just waiting for her to admit it."

You don't stay to hear more. But in the morning, when the summons comes—delivered by a guard who won't meet your eyes—you know they were expecting this too. They've been moving you like a piece on a board, and only now do you see the game.

You go anyway. You always do.

You press your lips together to avoid commenting on the way they stand separately like this will erase what you overheard yesterday. Ambessa stands at the center of the room, her presence devouring the light. It bends around her, as though the universe itself cannot decide whether to confront or flee her. Caitlyn is there too, poised and watchful, her gaze darting toward you and away again.

You look at her with an apathy you designed to get you through burning cities and crumbling countries. You wear your mother’s jewelry today: a septum ring with delicate chains of gold stretching across your cheeks, glinting over your ears. Ambessa’s eyes catch on it, a flicker of distaste passing over her face. Your fingers twitch, but you don’t remove it.

Caitlyn moves toward you, her steps tentative. You step back, forcing her to stop and speak first. Always assume power. This is what they have taught you.

“Do you find it fun,” you ask, head tilting, “to be careless with me?”

Caitlyn halts, her expression caught between guilt and something softer. Regret, maybe. This may be your delusion. Ambessa remains impassive, her gaze fixed on you with an unsettling intensity.

“Little one,” she begins, the shared nickname making you flinch. “You should be grateful. I’ve only eased you into a better space. This insipid competition for my attention is draining. I need my best soldiers to remain the best, to work with one another fluently.”

“You’ve been awful to me,” you say, your voice directed at Ambessa but your eyes locked on Caitlyn.

The mask you wear shifts, and you let your anger surface. 

“Do not call me her name. I’m nothing like her.”

Ambessa’s expression betrays a flicker of disagreement, but she inclines her head, a mockery of deference. “As you wish, little one. What do you think, Cait? Do you agree?”

The nickname hits like a physical blow. Ambessa smiles wickedly. Cait. You used to call her that, back when you were little girls, not yet twisted. You saw her as some kind of beautiful flower, one that had learned to tremble tall amongst the trees.

“You could have spoken to me,” you say finally, your voice sharper now. “You didn’t need this...elaborate scheme of seduction.”

“Love is a good enforcer,” Ambessa says, her tone rich with amusement.

“You wouldn’t know love if it spat in your face,” you snap.

The room freezes. Caitlyn stiffens, but Ambessa’s expression darkens, her presence swelling like a storm. You meet her gaze, unflinching.

“Get out,” she says, her voice quiet but deadly.

Caitlyn hesitates, her body angling toward you as though to shield you. Her hands twitch, almost childlike in their uncertainty. “She’s only angry. Let me—”

“Get out,” Ambessa repeats, her tone slicing through the air.

Caitlyn turns to you, desperation softening her features. “Listen to me,” she murmurs, stepping closer. “I meant it. All of it. With you. I only—”

You think of the evening before. Your throat works until you have something to say; your hand moves before you can think, shoving her back. The memory of her warmth lingers on your palm like a curse. You try to lose it. 

“Get out,” you whisper. 

She stumbles, her expression crumpling into something fragile. You swallow hard, forcing yourself to stay cold, and distant. Caitlyn hesitates for a heartbeat longer, but then she turns to leave. 

“You always try so hard to be good,” you push out. 

She pauses, remains facing away from you.

“I meant it,” she says again. “With you.”

She goes, the door clicking shut behind her.

Ambessa doesn’t speak. She doesn’t need to. The silence between you is a battlefield, and you know you are primed to lose.

“Do you want to have me to yourself, or do you only wish to be my favorite?”

The question surprises you. However, you shouldn’t be surprised by anything Ambessa does. Her voice is calm, and measured, but it holds a challenge. There waits a quiet dare for you to step into the space she’s carved out for you.  

Your throat tightens, words lodging there like a trap. You hate the way your body reacts to her—the warmth that spreads under your skin, the treacherous pull of her presence. It disgusts you. It thrills you. You feel weak.

“I don’t want either,” you say, though the answer feels thin. A lie.  

Ambessa’s mouth curves into something sharp, more predator than a smile. “Liar.”  

Your hands clench at your sides. “I refuse to play this game, least of all with you.”  

“Oh, but you are, little one.” She takes a step closer, the sound of her boots deliberate, echoing in the cavernous space between you. “You’ve been playing since the day you first looked at me with that fire in your eyes. When I took you away.”

She clarifies as if you can’t quite recall. It grates at your nerves.

“You hate me, and yet you can’t help but ache for me. Do you think I haven’t noticed?”  

Your pulse quickens, the air between you crackling with tension. You hold her gaze, refusing to look away, even as heat rises in your cheeks.  

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you say, but the words lack conviction.  

Ambessa tilts her head, her gaze dragging over you in a way that feels invasive, consuming. “I don’t need to flatter myself. I see you. At first, I thought you might take after me in a way meant to replace your mother.”

She reaches forward, fingers the cold along the ridge of your cheekbones. 

“I see the way you tremble when I’m near, the way your apathy tastes so much like desire,” she continues.

She steps closer, and you step back instinctively, your spine meeting the cold stone wall behind you. You hate how small you feel under her gaze, how she makes the air around you feel heavier, suffocating.  

“You’ve used me,” you bite out, your voice shaking but firm. “You’ve used Caitlyn, too. You pit us against each other like we’re pawns on your board. Is that all we are to you?”  

Ambessa’s expression doesn’t falter, but something flickers in her eyes, something unreadable. “You’re more than that, but useful as pawns when it’s needed. Both of you. But you’re still mine.”  

Her hand moves, slow and deliberate, until her fingers brush your jaw. The touch is barely there, a whisper against your skin, but it sets every nerve alight.  

“You hate it so much when we touch you,” she says softly, her voice a low rumble. “But it’s that hate that keeps you sharp. That’s why I keep you close. Why we—I— can’t let you go.”  

You want to pull away, to spit something venomous, to remind her that you’re not some plaything for her amusement. But you don’t move. You don’t speak. You can’t.  

“Caitlyn wants your approval,” Ambessa continues, her thumb grazing the corner of your mouth now. “She craves it. But you... you want something deeper, don’t you? Something darker.”  

You flinch.

“I want nothing from you.”  

Ambessa leans in, her breath warm against your ear. “Then why are you still here?”  

“Because you summoned me.”  

“Because you wanted to come,” she counters, her voice soft but unyielding.  

You try to defend yourself, but she’s moved past this now. Instead, her hands come to the bend of your hips and lift you with an easy effort that makes your legs widen around the bulk of her body. With quick steps she moves you to the chaise just off to the side of the room, sitting you on top of it. The world is blurring; she is moving too quickly for you to dispute.

Ambessa’s hands are firm as she strips you bare and traces the shape of you. Like Caitlyn—or maybe Caitlyn, like her—she cups a tit in her large hand and squeezes. This version of it is more painful, different from its softer sister movement in the shower. 

She leans forward, opens her mouth, and swallows that loose circle of fat. You arch into the heat of her lips, moan low and reedy as she suckles at your nipple. Her teeth trap bits of skin between them, marking you purposefully. She pulls off and takes your other breast inside of her again to be teased and tainted by her bruises.

You rock gently, chasing the feeling. This time when Ambessa’s mouth leaves you, she presses your tits together and appraises them. 

“She said this was one of her favorite parts of you.” When she finds your confused gaze, Ambessa smiles. “Cait.”

You tense at that, and she chuckles. The sound infuriates you. Still, you do nothing as she sinks lower, her breath approaching the swollen pearl of your clit. Without a word she latches on to you, lapping idly at you as if you aren’t already dripping down her chin. She holds you as your body stutters, pleasure arcing through you like thousands of arrows. 

Ambessa is measured in this too. She sucks your folds into her mouth, laps at you carefully as she grips your ass. She makes you ride her, clit bumping against her strong nose as you follow her instruction. She draws back from you once, only to spread you apart and spit crudely into your cunt. She watches it travel down your slit, slicking you with her saliva, then she spits again and pushes it in with a finger.

Before she continues she glances at you and gives you another order.

“Say her name.”

You say nothing, mind racing. She slaps your ass, hard.

“Say her name. As you used to.”

You understand now. Again, you ride her tongue but when your mouth opens it is not her name that you say.

“Cait,” you moan, legs falling open even wider.

Ambessa adjusts you, slings your legs over her wide shoulders as she consumes you. She shakes her head, burying herself in your cunt as she leads you over the edge. Over and over, she laps at you until you’re panting hard like you would when sparring. This is sparring in another form.

“Oh, fuck,” you whisper. “Oh, fuck. Fuuuuck, Cait. Please.”

“Mmhmm,” Ambessa hums over your clit, and that’s the end of it for you.

You let out a sharp, shrill scream and attempt to bow over yourself with the strength of your orgasms. Ambessa refuses to let you, forcing you back and keeping your legs spread so that she can watch your cunt flutter wildly as you cum. 

“There you go,” she murmurs.

“Yeah,” you answer, dazed and nonsensical.

Your pussy spasms, pink and oozing juices like a wound. Your thighs strain with the stretch of remaining open. You think of the shower floor.

“Caitlyn,” you gaps. You can’t stop pulsing. “Yes. Fuck, Cait.”

There’s a thud outside, against the door as if someone has fallen.

Ambessa removes her hands. The silence stretches between you, taut and electric. Finally, you find your voice, though it’s hoarse and trembling. 

“If you think I’ll ever belong to you, you’re wrong.”  

Ambessa’s smile returns, wicked and knowing. 

“You are brave, but you already do, little one. You just haven’t admitted it yet. What do you think we speak of waiting for?”

The absence of her touch feels colder than it should. She steps back, giving you space, but her gaze remains heavy on you, a reminder that you are never truly free of her.  

“Go,” she says, her tone dismissive. “Think about what you want. And when you’re ready to admit it, you know where to find me.”  

You don’t wait for her to say more. You rise and make to leave, hands grappling over your clothes. You feel discombobulated like a puppet with its strings cut. You only manage to slide your shirt back over your head and it dusts the tops of your thighs.

Ambessa only watches your struggle. You hate her. You want her. You don’t know where one feeling ends and the other begins.  

You tug the door open and step back as Caitlyn spills back against the floor, hand still between her thighs and shining with her own pleasure. Her chest is heaving, her skin pink with the rush of lust and physical exertion. Her legs splay beneath her like a doll’s. 

She pulls her fingers out with a wet ‘schleck’ and tucks them into her mouth, cheeks hollowing as she looks up at you—unashamed. You say nothing, only bend down and tug her fingers from her mouth. You put them in your own.

THE COIN, FACE DOWN. — CAITBESSA.

The dormitory is devoid of you. Caitlyn is unsurprised.  

You are unused to being touched. You don’t know how to be wanted. 

Still, she worries. More accurately, she spirals. The ache of your absence gnaws at her in the quiet moments, like a phantom limb she can’t stop reaching for. She doesn’t know where you’ve gone. 

Ambessa is losing herself too, albeit in a different way. Caitlyn wonders if she has ever truly lost something before.  

The world continues to turn. They train, a familiar ritual that feels increasingly hollow. Their strikes are sharper now, their parries more reckless. Ambessa’s movements carry an edge Caitlyn hasn’t seen before, a fury barely leashed. She fights like she’s trying to exorcise something, and Caitlyn is often the target of that rage.  

A blow to her stomach knocks the wind out of her. A strike to her face nearly cracks her jaw. Caitlyn knows better than to show weakness, so she grits her teeth and pushes back, delivering her own brutality in return. She delivers as well as she receives. 

She kicks Ambessa in the mouth once, the impact jarring up the toned meat of her leg. The older woman’s lip splits, blood dripping down her chin, but she doesn’t flinch. In response, Ambessa hurls Caitlyn into the corner of the room. She skids across the mat, hitting the wall with enough force to rattle her bones.

Ambessa isn’t looking at her, stays crouched on the mat with her hand pressed to her mouth. Caitlyn struggles upward, sliding to rest against the wall. The fight had been nothing more than an outlet, and Caitlyn, nothing more than a tool.  Caitlyn struggles to her feet, leaning heavily against the wall. The guards in the room avoid looking at them, the air too charged, too dangerous. 

Something simmers in Caitlyn’s stomach, a volatile mixture of anger, frustration, and something softer she doesn’t want to name. She refuses to puncture it, afraid of what might spill out. She is already suffering enough, diseased with the spores of her affection for you. 

And Ambessa.  

The thought churns in her mind, dark and poisonous. Ambessa has become an obsession she doesn’t want to admit to, a shadow that looms too large since that moment in the room. Caitlyn hates her, resents her, envies her. She knows what you taste like, what you’d like. She too has been inside you. Caitlyn now has nothing; they are disgustingly equal.

 But beneath it all, she respects her. And that’s what makes it worse.  

When Caitlyn finally speaks, her voice is strained, biting. “Do you always break your toys this quickly, or am I just special?”  

Ambessa’s gaze finally lifts, sharp and cutting. She wipes the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand and smiles, a malignant curve that doesn’t reach her eyes.  

“Special?” she echoes, rising to her full height. “You think too highly of yourself, Cait. You’re simply better than most.”  

The nickname grates, a reminder of the intimacy they share now—unwanted, unavoidable, tangled in you. Caitlyn clenches her fists. “Don’t call me that.”  

Ambessa takes a step closer, her presence suffocating, magnetic. “You’ve been insufferable since she left,” she says, voice low and dangerous. “Do you think I don’t see it? You miss her like a dog misses its master.”  

“And you don’t?” Caitlyn fires back, the words cutting deeper than she intended.  

Ambessa’s expression darkens, and for a moment, Caitlyn wonders if she’s gone too far. But then the older woman smirks, cruel and knowing. 

“I miss her,” Ambessa admits, her tone a blade. “But not like you do. You ache for her because she is a twin to your pain, a foil to my approval. I ache for her because she belongs to me.”  

The words twist in Caitlyn’s chest, sharp and unbearable. “She doesn’t belong to anyone,” she snaps.  

Ambessa chuckles a low, bitter sound. “You’re wrong. [Name] belongs to both of us, and that’s why you hate me.”

Caitlyn’s breath catches, and she doesn’t deny it.  

Without you, they writhe like snakes, their weight pulling them into collision after collision. The mouth of the snake swallows the tail. The hatred between them is palpable, a toxic undercurrent that fuels their every interaction. And yet, when the nights grow long and the ache of your absence becomes unbearable, they find themselves drawn together.  

It’s not love, not even close. It’s desperation, a way to drown the pit you’ve left behind. Their intimacy is suffocating, a visceral reminder of everything they can’t have. 

When Caitlyn’s nails dig into Ambessa’s back, it’s not out of affection but frustration. When Ambessa’s teeth scrape Caitlyn’s collarbone, it’s not passion but punishment. They use each other because they can’t have you. After all, the emptiness you left is too much to bear alone.  

It’s never enough, no matter how fierce. Because they don’t want each other.

They want you.

Still, they try.

🕸

Again, the shower. 

They’re slightly cruel to one another. It fuels the high. 

Caitlyn snaps back to the moment as Ambessa needles a nail into the mottled skin beneath her shoulder blade, where a bruise sits thick and spreading. She hisses in pain, tits pressing further against Ambessa’s own. There are three thick fingers in her pussy and they fuck her in the way she needs. 

Despite the embarrassment, she lets her head fall onto Ambessa’s wide shoulders as she chases her orgasm. Her cunt is like water, dribbling down Ambessa’s wrist as she carves Caitlyn out. Again, a nail presses into the bruise. 

The motion is harsher this time around and Caitlyn cries out, throwing her head back so that her hair brushes the middle of her spine. Ambessa continues to toy with this patch of marred skin, teeth clamping on the wide skin of Caitlyn’s neck as the younger woman twists and shudders around her. 

“Good fucking girl,” Ambessa mutters, fucking her faster.

Caitlyn bounces to meet her, slamming herself down until her belly tightens and roars. Ambessa lifts her further, suctions her mouth around one of her perky tits, and digs deeper into the pink tight nature of her. Caitlyn roots a hand in her hair and slides the other down her body to collect pieces of that foamy, white ring gathering around Ambessa’s hand.

Slick with herself, she rubs tight, quick circles around Ambessa’s clit. The older woman’s cunt is large, folds heavy and leaking. Caitlyn feels her tremble and she moves faster, breath coming fast as the spray of the water slides down the crack of her ass.

With a muffled grunt, Ambessa cums. As she does, she bites deeply into the meager flesh of Caitlyn’s collarbone. Caitlyn whites out, eyes rolling back briefly so that she’s swaying and focusing on a blurred ceiling. Their orgasms warp and connect; they refuse to stop touching one another as if it will keep reality at bay.

The comedown is almost irritating, and in a frenzy, Caitlyn clutches Ambessa to her chest. This does nothing. 

She kisses Ambessa feverishly, practically mauling her, because the echo of your cunt is on her lips. Ambessa holds her, returns the kiss, then breaks it. 

“No matter how hard we try, she is not here.”

Caitlyn closes her eyes and her face pinches in pain.

“And where is she? Gone, and you are doing nothing to find her.” 

This close, Caitlyn can see Ambessa’s face twitch and melt into something revealing. Something rocks through her at the sight and she detangles their bodies.

“You cannot find her.”

The statement is accusatory, so much so that Ambessa surrenders and turns away. She shuts off the water; Caitlyn remains shivering. 

THE COIN, POCKETED. — YOU.

Your mouth tastes like metal and smoke. The streets of Zaun pulse beneath your feet, virulent and alive, and you can barely remember how many days it's been since you left them. Since you left her. Them.

You've gotten yourself into trouble - the kind Ambessa would have prevented, the kind Caitlyn would have shot through. Blood trickles down your side from where the knife caught you, and your vision swims with chemical fumes and exhaustion. You don't know where you're going anymore, just that you're going.

The world tilts sideways. You stumble and catch yourself against a wall slick with condensation. A familiar laugh echoes from somewhere above - it stops your heart, then starts it again too fast. You know that laugh.

When you look up, they're there on one of the suspended walkways - Caitlyn and that pink-haired girl, Vi. They haven't seen you yet. Vi has her hand on Caitlyn's waist, casual, proprietary. Something in you breaks and mends and breaks again.

Then Caitlyn turns her head, and her eyes find yours like they always have. The world stops. You try to run—you always try to run—but your legs give out. You thud to the ground. Mind heavy. Heart heavy. 

You hate her more than anything else in the world. You wish that was true.

You hear the clatter of boots on metal as she descends, and then she's there, gathering you up as if she hadn’t been entangled a moment before. She hooks a hand into your hair, and claws you into looking at her as she squeezes your face hard. Something inside of you understands that the action isn’t intentional, not this time.

She bends, hair falling from her hurried bun, and swallows you—grime and all. Her kiss tastes devastating and strains with relief, and you're too weak to fight it anymore. You push back, this time into her, and force her to hold you. She squeezes you tighter, moaning almost obscenely as she relapses and languishes in your feel, in your taste. 

Here is her sweet girl. Her sweet fucking girl. 

“Cait,” you moan.

She pulls away and strokes your baby hairs away from your forehead as you let out a feeble, wounded noise.

"Vi," she says, not looking away from your face, "help me. I need to get her back to Ambessa."

"This is your runaway?" Vi's voice is rough, knowing. "The one you've been tearing yourself up over?"

Caitlyn's hands tighten on your arms. "It's important for the mission that we-"

"Save it, Cupcake." Vi's laugh is different now, sadder. "I know what love looks like on you."

That training, that beloved animal comes back in full force, and Caitlyn looks up from beneath her lashes. Her face contorts and it’s the strangest she’s ever seemed to Vi. She reaches up, hooks a hand around Vi’s jaw, and drags her down. 

“Get it together, Violet. This is not your moment.”

Vi blinks at her, equal parts disturbed and titulated. Caitlyn lets her go, places that same hand on the peek of skin between the hem of your shirt and your linen pants. Why would you ever wear linen when running away? She looks back up again, traces Vi’s expression—analyzes it.

“I can love you both. I’ve done it before.”

Vi's laugh catches in her throat. You watch through half-lidded eyes as something passes between them— understanding, maybe. Or resignation. Your blood is making patterns on the ground.

"Fine," Vi says, and then she's lifting you like you weigh nothing, careful of your wound. "But if this gets me killed, I'm haunting you both."

“If she dies because of our procrastinating, I’ll do something worse than haunting,” Caitlyn snaps.

Caitlyn's hand doesn't leave your skin as you move through the undercity. You drift in and out of consciousness, catching fragments: Vi muttering about shortcuts, Caitlyn's fingers pressing against your pulse, the way they work together like they've done this before. They probably have.

"Stay with me," Caitlyn keeps saying, and you're not sure if she means now or forever. Maybe both. 

You think of Ambessa waiting, of how her hands will feel on your skin again, of how she'll look at you like you're something wild she's finally caught. You think of Caitlyn's desperation in the shower, that fucking shower and it’s cold water—of her mouth against your stomach. Of how they both break you apart and put you back together wrong.

"She's burning up," Vi says somewhere above you. Her voice sounds almost gentle.

"We're close." Caitlyn's voice shakes. "The extraction point is-"

"I know where it is." A pause. "You really love her that much?"

"More than is safe."

You want to tell her that nothing about any of you has ever been safe. Instead, you let the darkness drag you into its arms.

When you wake, you're in Ambessa's chambers. The sheets smell like her - lime and mango and earth. Caitlyn is curled against your side, her breath evening out against your neck. And there, in the doorway, Ambessa stands watching you both with hunger in her eyes.

"Welcome home, little one," she says, and steps inside.

THE COIN, MELTED INTO GOLD — CAITLYN & YOU & AMBESSA & YOU &.

Ambessa moves like smoke in the water. 

The room holds its breath as she approaches, and you feel Caitlyn's arm tighten across your middle—not protective, possessive. They don't look at each other. They never do. Their hunger is only for you.

"Did you think you could run from us?" Ambessa's voice is silk over steel, very careful in the moment. She sits on the edge of the bed, and the mattress dips with her weight. Her hand finds your ankle, thumb pressing into the hollow where your pulse beats rabbit-quick. "From me?"

You try to answer, but Caitlyn's mouth is suddenly on your neck, wet and wanting. She bites down, marking you, claiming you and Ambessa's grip tightens in response. They're going to tear you apart.

You realize, distantly, that you want them to.

"She's hurt," Caitlyn murmurs against your skin, but her teeth don't gentle. "We should-"

"We should punish her," Ambessa cuts in, and your body betrays you with a shiver. Her hand slides higher, past your knee. It makes you realize that you’re in nothing but a simple pair of baby blue cotton panties and a skimpy bra. Your tits spill out at the bottom. "Shouldn't we?"

Caitlyn makes a sound like drowning. Her fingers find the hem of your shirt and ghost over the bandaged wound at your side. "Yes," she breathes, and you feel yourself sinking, sinking. "But she's ours to punish."

"Ours," Ambessa agrees, and the word feels jagged.

You're losing yourself in them. A thought floats up through your hazy mind: that they refuse to acknowledge each other even as they work in tandem to break you down, to unmake you piece by piece. Their synchronized destruction should be beautiful to watch if you can remember how to open your eyes.

"Look at me," Ambessa commands and your body obeys before your mind can catch up. Her hand cups your jaw, thumb pressing against your lower lip. "She trembles so prettily for us, doesn't she?"

Caitlyn's answer is to drag her nails down your spine, making you arch into the touch. The pain blooms like ink in water, spreading out until you can't tell where it ends and pleasure begins. You're caught between them - Ambessa's unyielding strength and Caitlyn's desperate need - and you're not sure you want to escape.

"Tell us why you ran," Caitlyn whispers, but it's not really a question. Her fingers trace the edges of your bandages again, a reminder of what your foolish escape attempt cost you. "Tell us what you thought you'd find out there.”

"Freedom," you manage to gasp, and Ambessa's laugh is dark honey, sticky-sweet, and dangerous.

"Oh, little one." Her grip tightens, not quite painful. Not yet. "You're only free when I allow it."

She speaks only of herself, but you know the notion pertains to both of them. You know they're right. You've always known and it leaves something bitter in your mouth.  That's why you ran - not to escape them, but to make them chase you. To prove they would. To ensure they'd punish you when they caught you.

And now they have.

"Please," you breathe, though you're not sure what you're begging for. More? Mercy? Neither?

"Please what?" Caitlyn's voice has gone rough with her aching. Her teeth find your shoulder again, and you shudder. "Use your words."

But Ambessa's hand is sliding into your hair now, pulling your head back to expose your throat. "No," she says, and you can hear the smile in her voice. "I don't think she gets to speak anymore tonight. I think she’ll bore me with her useless whining.”

The whimper that escapes you makes them both pause, just for a moment. Just long enough for you to feel their satisfaction ripple through the air like heat waves. You might die this way, you’re realizing. They may build you up one final time, only to slit your throat at the time of climax.

Ambessa is practically stone with her tempered fury, and Caitlyn is antsy with her need. You never realized how much you riled them in the same manner they did you. Ambessa goes on to say more, filling the silence with something sick and cruel but Caitlyn has had enough now. 

She lurches up, rolls you over so that she sits atop just like the night she first kissed you. The night where it all burst. There’s a moment where she has a hand on your chest, pushing down as if resuscitating you. You don’t understand it until you look down and see the way the pressure makes your breasts surge and spurt from underneath your bra. She pushes again and again and again until you’re taking halting, broken sips of air. Over and over, your tits spill until she grows crazed and snaps the fabric off of you.

Ambessa only watches, though you notice her thighs spreading. She looks soft, her hair unbraided and haloing her face. She wears nothing but a silk yellow robe which displays her figure lovingly. Your cunt grows warm, tender.

Catilyn taps your cheek, brings you back to her. You can’t remember if the button-down she wears is yours or Ambessa’s. Maybe both. You wince at her weight on your stomach and she moves up and over your face. 

There’s no time to prepare for the way she comes down on you, her groan thunderous as her pussy settles on your parted mouth. You fall into line, give her what she wants.

Still, you are to be punished, so she sits for a long while. Just smothers you. Occasionally she grinds, filling your nose with her musk. You can feel her soft curls around your lips, and you arch up as if to crawl inside of her skin. This gets her to move, a slow rocking that amps up as you settle into making out with her pouring pussy. 

You kiss her here, over and over, dragging your tongue into the affair until she’s riding you. Your tongue slips in and Caitlyn quivers with a whimper as she rides your face harder. You bring a hand up to hold her, to prevent her from slipping but she smacks it away. 

“No,” she pants. “No—oh, fuck me. Holy shiiiit.” She bounces liberally, selfishly. “No touching.”

Caitlyn leans forward, supporting herself as she fucks down on you with fervor. You’re so distracted with getting her to fill your throat with her pleasure that you mistakenly lose focus on where Ambessa is. Which is why the press of her cunt against your own absolutely blindsides you.

She’s climbed atop the bed during the desperate coupling between you and Caitlyn, removing your panties so that your pussy winks at her voraciously. True to her nature she decides to take, to conquer you. You grip Caitlyn tightly, so tightly that she squeals and cums at the pain. 

You forget to let go, buck wildly as she creams over your nose and chin. It settles on you like sugar; she takes a long finger and dips it in—soft and sweet. You suckle at the pad of it, taking the digit into your mouth and moaning around it as Ambessa slides your cunts together. 

You can’t tell if you are one body or three or three-in-one. You feel enmeshed in the both of them. Your blood is theirs; your cunt is theirs. Maybe it is less togetherness and more possession. Ambessa groans deeply as you gush against her, the squelch both loud and quiet. Caitlyn is now off to this side—this you know. She has her other fingers playing with herself, shifts down to let them puncture her. 

She shoves another finger into your mouth and you gag, let her hit the back of your throat. Drool is coalescing and running over them. The sight makes Ambessa open you further, and hold you down as she slides your clits together over and over—harder and harder.

Your babbling makes the both of them smile, dark curves tinged with their sadistic pleasure. Again, the possession. Ambessa shoves Caitlyn aside and crawls over you to hook her thicker digits into your mouth. She drags you, your head lolling, as she reaches down and rubs your clit.

You scream, silent with your mouth open wide as you cum. This is not enough. It is never enough. She is back on you, like a lioness on a gazelle. Her pussy swallows yours, and Ambessa forgets you as she leads herself to that approaching golden horizon.

When she crests, she falls on you and you do nothing but accept her weight. You lay there, do this for what feels like years, until Caitlyn weasels behind you. Then you do it again.

🕸

You wake with a start, disoriented by the weight pinning you to the bed. Caitlyn's arm drapes loosely over your waist, her fingers curled like she’d been holding you even in sleep. Ambessa’s warmth radiates from behind you, her breath slow and even. The sheets smell of sweat and sandalwood, of something heady and unnamed.

The sheet clings to your skin almost oppressively, a reminder of last night’s twist of limbs and pleasure. You slide out from between them, careful not to disturb their slumber. Ambessa stirs slightly, her arm shifting, and you hesitate. Caitlyn murmurs something unintelligible, and you freeze. When neither of them wakes, you slip free.

You take Caitlyn’s robe from the chair by the bed, pulling it around your shoulders. The fabric is sheer, nearly useless, but it smells of her. You step onto the balcony, and the cool morning air kisses your skin. The horizon is painted in hues of gold and rose, the sun stretching its fingers across the sky.

You lean against the railing, the chill of the metal biting into your palms. The fortress sprawls below and blends into the distant city, a patchwork of shadows and light. For a moment, it feels like you’re the only person in the world. But the ache in your chest reminds you that isn’t true. 

You are loved. You are wanted. And it terrifies you.

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to make sense of the ache in your chest. The robe clings to you, and the light hits your body in a way that feels exposing, even with no one watching.

A soft sound pulls your attention, and Caitlyn steps out onto the balcony, her hair a tumble of dark waves over her shoulders. She’s still half-asleep, her bare feet silent on the stone. When she sits beside you, the space between you feels both unbearable and necessary.

"Couldn't sleep, baby?" she murmurs, her voice rasping in the quiet.

You shake your head, eyes fixed on the horizon. You ignore the goosebumps that rise at the pet name.

 "I don’t know what to do with so much love," you say finally, your voice trembling. "From you. From her. It’s… too much."

She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she reaches out, her fingers brushing your forearm. You flinch, and she pulls back, pain flickering across her face. 

"Baby," she says softly, and the word lands like a stone in your chest. "I will undo this. I will make your living easier."

You exhale sharply, the sound halfway to a laugh.  “Will I always have to share you?” you ask. 

You don’t look at her. 

Caitlyn hesitates, then glances toward the bed where Ambessa shifts, her hand moving as if searching for you in her sleep. You glance over instinctively, the motion so natural it betrays you.

“I could ask you the same,” she says finally. Her tone is steady, but there’s a thread of something deeper woven through it—something sharp and sad. Your gaze flickers to her, then back to the bed behind you. Ambessa shifts again, her brow furrowing, and you instinctively turn to her. The action is so ingrained, that you don’t realize what you’ve done until Caitlyn speaks again.

“She pulls at you,” Caitlyn says, not unkindly. “I see it.”

You want to deny it, but the words stick in your throat. Instead, you say, “And you don’t?”

Her lips curve into a wry smile. “I pull at you too. But she’s… something else.”

You swallow hard, the weight of her words settling over you. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Your breath catches, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. The city stirs below, oblivious to the ache of your small world.

INTERLUDE: THE LIONESS, WITH THE COIN IN HER MOUTH. 

Ambessa lies still in the bed, her breathing measured and even, but her mind sharp and alert. She hears the murmur of voices from the balcony, the quiet cadence of Caitlyn's voice mingling with yours, a soft harmony in the cool morning air. 

Her eyes remain closed, yet her thoughts stray to the image of you wrapped in Caitlyn’s robe, the rosy light of dawn casting faint halos around your figures. She imagines the tension in your body as Caitlyn reaches for you, the way you’d shift, hesitant, but never pulling away entirely. It’s a dynamic Ambessa understands all too well: the push and pull, the magnetic sway you hold over both of them.

You’re the thread that binds, fragile yet unbreakable. It’s maddening. It’s beautiful.  

Ambessa shifts slightly, her fingers brushing the cool sheets where you once lay. The absence is temporary—she knows this. But the way you linger in her mind is something she can’t easily reconcile. She has always been a woman of precision, of control. Yet you are beginning to undo her in ways she cannot name, cannot stop, that she believed herself too old for.

Through the door left ajar, your voice carries faintly. When you and Caitlyn return, Ambessa will let you come to her. For now, she waits, her lips curving faintly, as if in a private, unspoken promise.  

“You’ll come back to me,” she murmurs under her breath, a whisper carried only by the stillness of the room.  

And outside, the sun climbs higher, gilding the world in its light.

RE: THE COIN, MELTED INTO GOLD — CAITLYN & YOU & AMBESSA & YOU &.

Caitlyn leans back, her eyes tracing your face. "We grew up together," she begins, her voice softer now. "Trained together. They taught us to kill, to win, to survive. But you…" She pauses, swallowing hard. "You were always my half. I can’t promise much, but when the pendulum swings, I will choose you to save. Every time."

Her words settle heavy in the space between you. You lean your head against her shoulder, letting the warmth of her presence ease the sharp edges of your doubt.

Caitlyn tilts her head, resting her cheek against your hair. "You’re half of me," she murmurs.

From inside, Ambessa’s voice calls softly, "Come back to bed."

Caitlyn shifts, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, then your nose, and finally your lips. It’s a lingering kiss, tender and unhurried as if she’s trying to pour every unsaid word into you.

"You’re my girl," she whispers against your mouth. "I love you, baby."

The declarations are so soft you almost think you’ve imagined them. But the look in her eyes tells you otherwise.

Ambessa calls again, her voice low and expectant. Caitlyn straightens, her hand falling away from yours. She glances at the door, then back at you. She stands, offering her hand to you. 

"Come," she says simply.

You hesitate, the ache in your chest a living thing. But you take her hand.

The sun exposes as it further moves toward its high point, casting the balcony in streaky light, but you feel no warmth. Only the quiet weight of something you can’t name, pressing into the spaces between your ribs.

And behind you, the world goes on turning.

“Come,” Caitlyn says again, her tone gentle but firm.

You go.

© hcneymooners.

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