#kpop!caitlyn

[yameoto]

SUPERNOVA CAITLYN KIRAMMAN

kpop idol caitlyn X her insatiably horny junior

"Noona is so cool!"  You mimic, voice pitching either higher or lower, depending on which of the plethora of comments you pick, at your leisure. "Caitlyn’s a CF goddess. Her talents are seriously wasted. Wah, her visuals are really otherworldly. Unnie looks so good I’m creaming my pants—" Caitlyn fixes you with a flat, unimpressed look, at that last one. “It doesn't say that.” You grin, like the effervescent angel you are. “Yeah. That was just me.”

tw; dom/sub!caitlyn, brat!reader, idolverse, girlcock, semi-public sex, sex in dance practice rooms, mirror sex, handjobs, handjobs during vlives, voyeurism, mild age-gap, age hierarchy dynamics, use of korean honorifics. idol!caitlyn x idol!reader wc; 5.1k. ao3

notes: set in modern day runeterra. ionia encompasses the entire region of asia in league which i personally find stupid but i dont make the rules. fluff/smut/humour. derivative of korean culture (kpop idol au) + pokes a lil fun at stan culture. no prior kpop knowledge is needed (though it would likely help) the sex is filthy regardless. wrote this after finding caitlyn is only a 1/4 white like hallelujah jesus

CAITLYN looks stupidly good. Like stupid, stupidly good. Her grey sweatpants are slung low on her hips, waistband of her briefs peeking out. Sweat-slickened abs glare back at you, from the floor-to-ceiling mirror. The outline of her bulge is visible. These are all observations that you latch into like an IV-drip hooked-up to your wrist, in order to stay alive—lest you die from the fatigue. And boredom.

“Please,” You grumble, head slumped on your knee as your arm drops to the floor, phone abandoned Candy Crush side, up. “Please, please, please, can we go home?” 

“No,” Caitlyn huffs, hands on her hips, looking entirely too good as she takes a momentary (and you mean, momentary) break to swig a sip of water, before she hurls herself right back into it, sweaty and stunning.

The two of you have been trapped in the practice rooms for what feels like eternity. Or, more accurately, Caitlyn has trapped you in the practice rooms for what feels like eternity. You would rather be snuggled up and content in the comfort of your dorms; rather than slogging away in the basement, like you’re still trainees clawing your way up the company ladder inch by inch—rather than the four-time daesang winners, face of Ionia’s girl-groups’, and other innumerable accolades under your belts that seemingly mean nothing to your fearless group leader. At least, at the moment.

You’ve long slunk to the floor, sleepy eyes tracing the way sweat rolls down Caitlyn’s nape as she re-runs the movements for about the zillionth time. Her shoulder-blades flex through the thin fabric of her shirt, sweat dampening into a darkened pool in a way that should be gross, but on her, it just looks sexy. The ache in your muscles has simmered to a low burn, by now. Jeez, your eyelids are slipping. Thank God you have your sweet leader to ogle. The sight of Caitlyn’s bulge peeking through those sweatpants is practically your sole motivator in keeping your eyes open.

“You know,” After what feels like a decade, you pipe up again, because time has begun to melds together. “You’ve got it. Seriously.” The swig of water that sluices down your throat is lukewarm and unsatisfactory. Fuck, you’re thirsty. “The stage is a week away. You’ll be fine.”

Caitlyn’s eyes narrow at you through the mirror, incredulous.

“When in the world has fine ever been good enough?” 

Okay, sure. Caitlyn’s right. But she’s more than fine. Almost-perfect, actually—and come seven days—her dance moves will indubitably be heaven-sent and her ending fairy will probably trend #1 on three different social media platforms, and you will most definitely tug her ear endlessly about it, like the benevolent, supportive junior you are.

Seven days prior, however—and all you are is tired, grouchy, and maybe just a little bit horny. 

“I crave the sanctity of my blankets.” You lament, hand falling over your forehead as you languish on the floor, because the sun has probably set by now and you are seriously contemplating the possibility of dying of old age in this godforsaken practice room. (Not that that would be so bad, if Caitlyn were with you).

“You can go home, you know,” Caitlyn sighs, twisting around to face you, sneakers squeaking on the glossy wooden floors. 

“How am I supposed to sleep without my favourite member as a bolster?”  You pout, snatching on the chance to act a brat, immediately. Caitlyn just rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch upwards, so negligible that if you weren't so tuned in to all-things-Caitlyn, you might’ve missed it.

“Clingy.” She mutters, like she doesn't love it. Loves being your favourite. Not that it matters, because the glimmer of hope that flickers in your chest when Caitlyn crouches down in the direction of her bag—is immediately quashed when she only taps her screen, and the speaker rewinds all the way to the start. 

You’re really starting to hate this song.

“Are you serious? That’s not enough to rouse your cold, dead, heart?” You whine, because usually Caitlyn would've caved to your grabby-hands and doe-eyes by now (especially with the way you look; lips parted and shining with spit, water trickling down your chin down the column of your throat, from the leftover rivulets of your water-bottle.) Not that Caitlyn doesn't notice. She’s just really, really determined to get this right.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

“You work yourself too hard.”

You stretch to a stand, elongated and cat-like before you slink over and sling yourself dramatically along Caitlyn’s back. Her expression contorts into exasperation. She attempts to turn her head, to face you—to no avail. Not when you’re pushing her up against the mirror and the pinning her down against glass with the power of aggressive spooning on your side. Her hand shoots out to brace against the mirror, as your fingers hook the hem of her sweats, and Caitlyn stiffens under your thumb, lips falling open against her will.

“Darling,” She inhales, in that addictive, throaty accent of hers. Caitlyn sounds almost pained, as she catches your wrists—though she neither takes them in or wrests them away. The both of you have full view of the rising tent in her groin.

“What?” You smirk, teeth grazing the shell of her ear, like the sneaky little bastard you are. “Don’t tell me you’re planning to practice with a boner, unnie. That must hurt.”

Caitlyn’s breath hitches, and her knees almost buckle, if it weren’t for the way your arms tighten around your waist and squeeze the growing problem at her crotch. Your fingers twine with the string of her trackpants, loosening them under slim, deft fingers.

“Honorifics? Really?” Her voice is tight. She’s screwed. You only ever whip those out when you want something, seeing as how you've been speaking informally to your technical senior  since your very first meeting, in trainee days, (an accident she so loves to recount on variety shows. “It’s not my fault you just looked so young and pretty, unnie.” You’d fumble in defense, eyes wide and doling out the extra sparkle for the cameras as they zoomed-in on your frantic apologies, laugh track sure to be edited in. “What was I supposed to think?”

“You’re lucky I was too kind to scold you,” Caitlyn sighs, and—in a dramatic show of theatricality—flips the inky-blue curtains of her hair behind her shoulder, much to the hosts delight. “I can be really mean, baby.” 

That had been a hit. Probably because of the way her drawl had lilted playfully and she’d cupped your jaw in the most egregious display of fan service you’d ever seen. Caitlyn’s always known how to wrap the media around her pretty fingers; and your stammer and ensuing blush had mercilessly crowded your feed for at least two weeks, afterwards.)

That’s in public, though. In private? 

Caitlyn is a puddle to the graze of your fingers along her hipbone, and the glide of your breath up her neck. Dark eyes meet hers, hooded and intent, reflected in the pane of metal in front of you. It’s certainly a sight to behold. The two of you are both dripping in sweat, Caitlyn’s cheeks flushed, bare-faced and glowing—hair tangled up in that loose ponytail that you've always found so much hotter on her, than any amount of hours in the styling chair could ever produce.

“I really need to..” Caitlyn’s protests sound weak even to her own ears. Especially when heat pools in hot, throbbing waves that rush straight to her dick, and she's cut off by her own gasp when you nuzzle in the nook between her shoulder-blades and your hands—beautiful, cunning hands—ghost over her crotch and squeeze. Her entire world lurches into a haze, body spasming upwards.

“Unnie,” You breathe, sweet and soft, like the devil in her ear, “please fuck me.”

Just like that, Caitlyn can’t take it any longer. A low, strangled noise rips from her throat, eyes fogging over and black eclipsing blue. Lithe hands coil around your wrists, and flips your positions entirely—thrusting you right up against the glass.

Her muscles are throbbing, hours of dance practice flaming up her bones; but she pins you down with the strength of a woman possessed, all the same. As far as Caitlyn’s concerned, she’s like a sleeper agent to your bedroom voice, and the fact could never shine with more clarity, than now (other than the time you’d done a Lola Shark impression in an interview and she’d gotten, to her horror, embarrassingly hard underneath the blanket thrown over her lap. She’d had to call in a bathroom break, to take care of it—much to your smug, haunting amusement).

In the mirror, you watch as Caitlyn’s breathing shallows into pants, tongue licking hot up the stretch of your neck to under your jaw. Neither of you miss the brief, smugly satisfied spark to your eyes and glowing hot between your thighs, even as both squeeze shut when you arch up against Caitlyn’s bulge. She grinds down against your ass, and you moan, so brazen she almost can’t believe it.

“Shit. You're so shameless,” Caitlyn mutters, breaths rushing harsh against your shoulder as she fumbles with the knot at your sweats, rutting hopelessly into the coil of your figure. The moment thread slips free, pants pooling to your ankles as you bend over, head thrown back—Caitlyn’s brand-name briefs soak with a splurge of pre so intense she almost thinks she’s come early.

“You want my fingers?” Caitlyn asks, just to be a bitch. Your eyes squint open to glare at her through blurry vision and through an even blurrier visage.

“Don’t joke,” You spit, voice hoarse with want. It's meant to sound demanding, but all it comes out is whiney, and Caitlyn’s laugh sends shivers down your nape.

There’s a millisecond in which your mind empties completely, and it's almost cruel how you can only see the reflection of Caitlyn’s cock curving upwards from her underwear rather than the real deal. 

Caitlyn’s grasp is like steel around your neck. She thrusts you forwards, your flushed cheeks smushing against the cool surface of the mirror as your stuttered breaths puff in grey clouds of condensation. A groan wrangles itself out of your throat from being manhandled like that, knees wobbling the moment you feel something hot, thick and so, so wet press insistently against the backs of your thighs. Arousal has already begun to drip down your legs, running down in rivulets and moistening the floor under your feet. Yours or Caitlyn’s—you don’t have the eyes to know.

“Unnie,” You breathe, shakily, voice raw. Your fingers are slippery against glass, and you whimper when the familiar stretch of two fingers sinks into your cunt. You slide open, just like that, and Caitlyn temporarily wrenches you back so that you can see your fogged-up reflection in all its full, filthy glory. 

“S’not enough,” You pant, back arching and ramming urgently against her digits she’s spreading you wide, with—so eye-wateringly slow. Maybe it’s the fact that you've been working yourself up, blatantly eyeing her down, for hours since your head checked out of training and your brain devolved into its most primitive urges in coping with your mind-numbing boredom. 

“Not enough?” She grins, sharp-toothed and devastating, adoring the upper-hand. “What? You need a third finger, baby?” The noise that tears out of you is almost like a wounded animal, and you'd be embarrassed if you weren't so overcome with need and prolonging this teasing sounds like torture.

So, you answer with the obvious, “Your cock.” You hiss through gritted teeth, because Caitlyn loves it when you beg for her dick and you’re too hare-brained and empty to do anything more than push back, impossibly deeper into her fingers. They sink to her knuckles of entirely your own volition, without her having to do so much as twitch. 

Caitlyn’s laugh is practically a goad in itself. The lush curtain of her lashes are lowered, irises swallowed up by the deep dilation of her pupils. Still, though, she takes her time in playing with you, just a little longer. Revels in the way you thrash around her fingers, fucking yourself back, desperate.

Herself is one thing. Her dick can only take so much, however. The ache becomes too much, too soon, and the second she runs her glossy head against the drenched, hot pulse of your hole—she can’t not shudder, knot in her throat, before her fingers slip out of your pussy and your consequent whimper is interrupted by the plunge of her cock.

“Hah, baby..” Caitlyn whimpers, eyes fluttering back as she fucks you against the mirror, nails dragging up your hips and digging into supple flesh. Never has Caitlyn felt so at home, submerged in the deep, velvet ocean of your cunt.

“Unnie—” You gasp. It’s the one word, echoing over and over, like an all-consuming siren song throughout your head—with each gasp that comes with every thrust of Caitlyn’s hips, motions growing sloppier as the exhaustion of hours of tireless exertion catches up to the both of you. She nips at your ear, then down the curve of your nape, to the unblemished skin of your upper back. Teeth grazing, pads of her fingers leaving scorching trails as she gropes up your body—your mind a jumbled, fuzzy mess. Her cock plunges in and out, still guided, though she never slips out more than mid-way; bodies sticking together like gum. Like she can’t bear to be apart from you for even a moment—even if it is to pummel your cunt until you can hardly take it anymore.

It’s only when the pumps and rolls begin to slow into simple, gentle rocks, to absolutely nothing but a twitch—that your mind clumsily clasps onto a semblance of clarity, hasty and brief, like you know it’ll slip away and out of reach, soon. “Wha..?” You rasp, half-slurred, even if what you really want to whinge is; What’s goin’ on? Why’d you stop? And, please, please, please. Don’t stop. Keep goin’. Fill me up. Please, don’t ever stop— and other half-baked nonsense that you’ll be glad your tongue was too thick and heavy in your mouth to spill.

“I can’t mark you,” Caitlyn grunts, and your eyes sharpen, just a little. Her tongue peeks out from her lips as her expression looks disproportionately distraught, like it’ll be the end of the world if she doesn’t stake some sort of physical claim on you, eyes darting downwards to your unblemished shoulders with a low growl of frustration.

Distantly, that part of you is still clinging onto reality, knows she’s right. That your comeback is in a week’s time and risking a hickey or a bite-mark or worse (because Caitlyn is stronger and sharper and rougher than her delicate figure should ever have been allowed to be), is a bad, bad idea.

But the larger part of you—the part of you that is currently being railed by her unnie’s cock and trying desperately not to squirt cum all over the practice room mirror—rasps out a reckless, ragged, “Who cares?”, and that’s all the permission Caitlyn needs.

Caitlyn pulls out, and slams herself in again, grip on your waist, bruising. Your hands go sliding, uselessly against the steamy surface of the mirror, long fogged-up under the slick tangle of your bodies. She’s mouthing slurred nonsense into your ear, the music speaker knocked over by one of your ankles and emitting distant sounds from where it's rolled, to the other side of the room. Neither of you could give a single fuck. 

Not the least, when Caitlyn’s hand is sliding up your throat and thumbing over your gaping lips. It feels as if a pink-hued fuzziness has descended the room and become a thick veil over everything, and when her fingers slip into the hot, wet gasp of your mouth—it's only right for you to take the digits in your tongue and suck. 

“Ahnngh—Cait—”  

“When did I say you could speak informally to me?” Caitlyn husks, fingers pressing deeper into the roof of your mouth. In your reflection, you can see the razor angle of Caitlyn’s jaw as she nuzzles into your ear. The obscene glisten of your spit, coating her fingers and coasting down your chin as her digits languish between your parted lips. You look every bit like her precious fuckdoll, right now.

“Unnie—”

“Ah-ah.”

“Sunbae.” 

“Mm. That’s better.”

Her free hand skims up your shirt, slipping up the taut lines of your body and flicking idly at one nipple. You whine, garbled around the gag of her hand, and Caitlyn lets out a moan of content when your pussy tightens around her shaft.

“Fuck,” She pants, teeth sinking down into your shoulder and you buck, even though the pain barely registers with how Caitlyn barrels her cock in you, deeper, and your eyes roll back into your skull. Your thighs are shaking. “M’gonna—hfgh—” 

Her hips draw upwards, and Caitlyn cums like a faucet. All of it, inside you. Outside of you. Dripping from your still-leaking cunt and droplets getting fucked out with each, desperate thrust as she moans, guttural. “Take it—fuck—” Caitlyn groans, harsh and insistent as she pounds, your pussy squelching—so wonderfully wet—as your fingers scramble against the glass, her fingers cramming deep inside your mouth.

“Ah-ah—fuck!”

The two of you go crashing down, sliding down against the mirror and onto the floor with a twinning, indecipherable slew of obscenities, a boneless, panting heap, still moving in tandem. 

You both slump, slippery and sticky. The song on the speakers re-starts, yet again, from the other side of the room, though it's the first time it's even pierced your ears in the past forty minutes. Caitlyn groans, pushing her nose into the crook of your neck, arms tightening around your waist. The mirror is splattered in both your cum.

“We’re gonna have to clean this up, aren’t we?”

“..Probably.” You sigh, still leaking around her cock as you angle your head, the two of you slotting together like missing puzzle pieces.

Twenty-four hours and countless Kleenex wipes later (and really, cleaning your own cum from floor-to-ceiling mirrors—with two half-guilty reflections staring right back at you—is an uniquely humbling experience); it was totally worth it to see Caitlyn appropriately red, after the crash of post-nut clarity.

It’s your one, blissfully empty day before comeback promotions launch you all into full-throttle. You intend to enjoy it while it lasts. 

“Your latest Lotte CF went viral,” You pop behind her, totally innocously if weren’t for that familiar, impish glint in your eyes. Caitlyn sighs, not even glancing up from the stove, completely nonplussed. Probably because Caitlyn could record herself taking a piss and it would chart #1 on Melon.

“The seonjiguk is simmering.” She ignores you. You ignore her right back.

“Look at those dimples,” You beam like a little shit as you wave the video in her face. “Maybe you should go into acting. The GP would go crazy.”

“No thanks,” Caitlyn snorts, hand lifting upwards to stifle a brief yawn, sleeves coming up all the way to her knuckles. “been there, done that.” 

“Oh, right. All your Piltovian film connections.” You hum, idly tracing the underneath of Caitlyn’s elbow as you lean over her shoulder to watch her cook. She’s markably improved from her humble beginnings of blackened, bubbling slag (what was once instant Buldak), or the scotchmarks that still hail the kitchen tiles, to this day.

“Mhm. I was almost poached. My mother wanted me to—what was that? Follow in her footsteps.”

“Well, I’m grateful that you didn't,” You hum, into her shoulder. You poke her side, grinning. “Then you wouldn't have met me, and wouldn't that be tragic?”

Caitlyn scoffs, but you feel her sink a little deeper into your embrace, eyes flitting to settle onto the top of your head, as you nudge into her. You both, really are grateful.

You’re pretty sure Ionia is grateful, too. 

Whatever the day, it always feels like Caitlyn’s name has taken up a permanent residence in the nation’s newsites. ICE PRINCESS. AI VISUALS. ATTITUDE PROBLEM. Her quarter Piltovian and subsequent accent injects an ‘attractive exoticism’ (or whatever management had stapled to your files, at the dawn of debut), that had made Caitlyn internationally explosive, too. 

The Kiramman surname certainly helped. Caitlyn’s debut was like, the biggest plot-twist in nepotism, ever. It was like if Nicole Kidman’s kid suddenly became Hatsune Miku. Not to mention the fact the Kirammans are the largest benefactor of Hextech, whose global rollout of leading-edge tech has gone unmatched. Of all careers for the Kiramman’s mysterious, devastatingly attractive daughter to take—this is the one that took the entire globe off-guard. Including the great and glamorous, Cassandra Kiramman.

Of course, the initial shock long lapsed underwater, with the constant roil of the media waves. Caitlyn’s fame, however, has not.

“Noona is so cool!”  You mimic, voice pitching either higher or lower, depending on which of the plethora of comments you pick, at your leisure. “Caitlyn’s a CF goddess. Ah, her talents are seriously wasted. Is she an angel? Her visuals are really otherworldly—”

“Get that away from me.” Caitlyn swats your phone away with a scowl, pretty pink flush glowing on her features.

“Don’t act all coy,” You prod her so-highly-lauded cheekbones as Caitlyn huffs in annoyance, though begrudgingly leans against the touch anyways. You squish. “We all know you’re preening inside.”

“I am not!”

“Ooh, sexy. I love it when your accent comes out like that.”

Caitlyn groans, because you’re impossible, and just twists so that she’s facing you, back against the kitchen counter. You reach behind her to switch off the stove.

She hooks her fingers into the hem of your pyjama shorts, thumbing over familiar cotton. She sighs outwardly, propping her head up on your shoulder and slumping forwards to rest the cold press of her nose into the crook of your shoulder. Her fingers skim up your shirt, absently rubbing circles into the plane of your stomach.

“You know I hate it when you read those.”

“About how you look like an eepy bunny when you’re sleepy? Or that you have moles in the shape of a giraffe on your nape.” You arch a brow, looking past her as you flick through the blurs of text in various degrees of capitalisation, on your phone. A subtle smirk lifts your lips. “Hey. Is that true? Let me check.”

She scowls, and then almost looks offended that you don’t know that already (You do. Caitlyn also has a darkened, heart-shaped birthmark indented in the crook of her inner thigh—but that’s just for you to know, thank you very much).

Your voice raises a pitch. “Unnie looks so good I’m creaming my pants!”

Caitlyn fixes you with a flat, unimpressed look. “It doesn't say that.”

You grin, like the effervescent angel you are. “Yeah. That was just me.”

Oh, now Caitlyn’s cheeks go red. You push valiantly past the triumphant flutter in your heart, in favour of continuing your teasing. Hey—there’s no schedule today, the dorms are all to yourselves—and you’re on a roll. 

“Look. They wanna steal your eyes and put them in a boba drink.”

Thoroughly fed-up with your antics, Caitlyn snatches the phone out of your hand, and you immediately squirm, to lunging for it. Caitlyn’s ridiculous height advantage has the one-up on you, though, and you puff out an aggrieved yelp of protest when she dangles it above your head, like a dickhead.

“Hey, what the fuck?” You complain, like your comeuppance wasn't exactly what you were hoping for. Except you were more aiming for a pin-you-against-the-fridge, fuck-the-insides-out-of-you type of comeuppance. Not a sordid reminder that you need a stool to reach the top of Caitlyn’s head. “Don’t lord your freakish Frankenstein genetics over me!”

Caitlyn laughs, eyes flickering down. “Are you on your tip-toes right now?” 

Your eyes narrow, because you do not appreciate having the tables turned on you. Your hand shoots up to cup her jaw, tilting it upwards. Caitlyn softens, putty in your hands, adorable furrow in her brow melting away along with her pride as she sinks into your palm with a soft sigh, arm falling to her side.

There we go.

“It’s not my fault you avoid socials like the plague. I’m just doing my duty to take care of my leader’s PR. Your fans are starving.”

Caitlyn grumbles, “Well, let them starve.” though it comes out pinched between smushed lips, cheeks squishing like a dumpling. So heartless, like she’s not the industry’s princess and probably makes up a total of 50% of the company’s annual income. You know exactly why, as you cradle her face in her palms and watch as she leans upwards because no matter how disgruntled Caitlyn acts, or how shockingly humble she is under that front of aloof, arrogance–she definitely preens under attention.

Just. Only yours. 

“Hey, you know what? We should go live right now.”

“What—?” Caitlyn stammers, flabbergasted by the sudden change in direction, “Don’t—“

Too late. Within seconds, you’ve swiped your phone back from her limp hands and flipped the vlive on. Recording. Like, now. Damn, you're speedy. 

“Ah..” Caitlyn’s expression smooths over to that charming, impeccably gorgeous grin of hers that shows off the sharp curves of her cheekbones and has won her the hearts of a nation. 

You pull her to the couch, and under the scrutiny of the camera—Caitlyn acquises with little more than a subtle elbow to your ribs, when the both of you go thudding into the cushions with a low oomph.

Then, you flop against her chest, and the stream of hearts that ensue are absolutely incredible, comments rolling in faster than you can read them. There’s a reason why the two of you are the most popular pairing in the group.

“Hm. Is it on?” You muse, faux confusion tugging on your pretty features. Knitted brows and a plush little pout always do the job, especially when you add a sneak of tongue. No doubt to be screenshotted and re-uploaded countless times, within the next hour. “Hello? Can you guys hear us?”

Which is, you know, the perfect time to grab Caitlyn’s dick through her pants.

A choked noise resounds beside you, and you don’t glance over, for you’re too busy fiddling with the phone and the settings and all other kinds of bullshit that is really just an excuse for you to focus your attention on snaking a hand down Caitlyn’s waistband, just out of view of the camera. “Oh! It’s working. Did you miss us?” You beam, as Caitlyn struggles not to either sock you in the stomach or throw her head back and moan.

If anybody notices Caitlyn’s pupils are suspiciously blown, it doesn’t come up. What does come up, is her ever traitorous cock that lilts immediately into your touch. Fuck. Fuck, fuck.

“Aw, little Caity’s missed me, too,” You croon, as your sneaky fucking fingers stroke idly along her girth, underneath the veil of her sweatpants and just over the thin fabric of her underwear. Caitlyn visibly bristles, because, 1. You’re jacking her off. 2. She hates that your coo instigates a flood of love-bombing so intense, that the hearts on the screen almost completely obscure the both of you. 3, and the most important one; you just gave her dick a nickname! 

“Cait.” You tease out, eyes glittering, not even bothering to conceal your amusement as Caitlyn’s hips buck upwards, her fingers pinching against your sides, lips completely shut mum, for fear she’ll let slip a moan on camera. “C’mon. Say something. You missed them too, right?”

Gods. Caitlyn hates you. She really, really hates you. Just—not enough to not shove your hand away when it starts to peel away the waistband of her underwear. If only because the feeling of precum soaking its seat, sticking to her skin, and not because she’s itching for the sweet relief of your hand around her cock.

“..Hi,” Caitlyn forces her winning, boxy grin, and the years of practice make it an admirably unstrained effort. Maybe she really should go into acting. “Mm. Long time no see, hm?” 

“Unnie’s being awkward, today.” You snark, all sly, and Caitlyn shoots you a glare. She’s rewarded by the sudden, fervent warmth of your hand wrapping around her dick, and then the harsh tug of your fist that has her knees jerking upwards and her dastard slit spurting out a shiny, hot glob of precum. She swallows back a low, strangled whine, like a dry pill. Oh, Gods. She’s supposed to say something.

“Ah, just..—we’ve—ah—”

In a rare show of mercy (because apparently, you’re not out to throw both your careers to the dogs), you swipe the phone back with the most cherubic, triumphant grin to adorn your face, literally ever. Catilyn lets slip a barely-audible hiss as your fingers coil, just a little tighter, stroking up and down—thumb running back over the swollen, gloatingly shiny cockhead.

“We just had a long time in the practice rooms for our comeback, yeah? So we’re pretty tired. Right, unnie?” 

Oh, you're really pushing it, now. 

“Mm. We’ve been—working. Really hard.” She has to lean out of the screen to release a silent, desperate gasp, nails digging into the back of the couch as she tries to rut up into your hand in a way that doesn't obviously send the sofa, trembling. You idly thumb over her slit, smearing the thick, embarrassingly copious amounts of pre down her length. It twitches in your palm, as you ramble on about schedules and the comeback and spoilers and other things that have long become white noise in Caitlyn’s ears. Her hips chase your touch, brazenly, now. She barely even realises when you’re calling it quits; early, too. Because obviously, this was all just to fuck with her.

“Caitlyn,” You sing-song—smirking (supremely unsubtly), at the camera. “Say bye-bye.”

She only just registers the comment. Barely. “Bye.” Caitlyn’s voice is a low croak, hips arching upwards off the couch just as you end the live. Just in time, too, because—

“Oh, fuck.” Caitlyn releases the longest moan of her life, cum spilling over your fist, and she collapses back into the couch. Your phone falls from your hand, and you’re practically shaking with laughter. 

(“Little Caitey,” Caitlyn grumbles, after the fact, with your head nestled between her thighs in apology, “That’s preposterous. What’s so little about her?” Nothing. But there’s no fun in that, is there? At the slow, sly smile spreading on your face, Caitlyn groans. “What?”

“You referred to her in third-person.”

“..Please just suck me off already.”)

[yejiswifex]

　　 I'm an 𝑒𝓍𝒸𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓃𝓉 shot. :¨ ·.· ¨: ⋆ ˚｡

　　　　 　　 ⋆ . ˚ ⟡ ࣪ ˖ ୭ ˚ . ⁺ ⊹ .ᐟ

[raveninth]

، ♡ ─ 𝐜𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐢 — » icons.

◟✿◝ ─ league of legends » ㅤ⮩ ⌜✦⌟ ≀matching: 〟Ꮺ ㅤㅤ— » vi and caitlyn ◜❥◞

[ryuukootan]

Caitlyn Jinsoul

Just realized I never posted this here.

[loudlovefart]

Kylie Jenner Moodboard Deco : Garden Theme

[pandesal-02]

Hi guys, another note again for today, please find the time to donate and help these fundraisers. But if you aren't able to please share and reblog.

Rana and Ahmed-Abdul Jawad:

This is Rana who is a university professor and a mother of 4 children. Currently, their situation is dire as the Islamic University and the workplace her husband used to work at, were destroyed. Now they are currently jobless and homeless. Please as much as you can, try to prioritize donating to their fundraiser as they are unable to properly provide for their children and themselves. A price for a bag of flour is more than $400, even milk formula for children is at $100. Currently Rena shares a go-fund me with Ahmed-Abdul Jawad, he is a dedicated educator who run several education centers for teaching children. However, because of the war, it had destroyed the educational centers and even his home. Please find the time donate and help boost their go-fund me links. Currently, the go-fund me donations are at $2,5k out of their $100k goal, so please donate to them if you can

[hmmmheyhey]

Hello dear friends, 🌟

I'm Mahmoud Jihad from Gaza. My family and I have lost everything—our home, my university, all of it. Now, we find ourselves living in a flimsy tent after losing everything. I was studying Information Technology and supporting my family, but now we are left with nothing. 😔

We are enduring unimaginable destruction and desperately need your help to survive. 😭 Even a small donation can make a huge difference. Every single contribution is a spark of hope in this dark time. ✨

Our campaign has been verified by: @beesandwatermelons ✅ #190 and @gazavetters ✅ #63.

You can make a difference by supporting us through this GoFundMe link: https://gofund.me/463cbf01

From the depths of our hearts, thank you. Let's rebuild our lives together. 🙏❤️

Thank you so much for your generosity and support!

Your donations will directly help us in rebuilding our lives. Thank you again for your kindness and generosity! 🌹

Let’s help Mahmoud and his family! Donate if you can and if you are unable to reblogging and sharing helps as well!!

[letmeliveinelfhame]

Will forever make me cry omg

The music video makes me cry even harder

[crookedm1lkshake]

Lesbian FMV featuring Powder (Jinx), Vi and Caitlyn

Powder (Jinx) is not Vi's sister here

[goldennika]

Had to look up this reaction video after seeing this snippet of Caitlyn Benson gushing over Hueningkai (totally normal and completely valid reaction to seeing how cute he is in this MV in particular!!!!)

TXT were super cute in this MV and I was literally grinning and kicking my feet like an idiot whenever I saw sookai on screen!!!! 😭Terry in his full tapioca pearl eyes mode here and it makes my heart hurt 🥹 Beomgyu with his little scowl !!!! what does he want from me !!!! 😩 And Yeonjun being the coolest as usual gah i love him -- his entrance was so good!! i loved his footwork too and iirc they were asked to do freestyle for their solo shots??

Loved how they sang the "You're sending signals and the waves go far" lines!!! Plus the chanting portion oof y'all know this is going straight to the Lollapalooza setlist!!!

My only gripe would be that I was under the impression that this was a TXT song that featured the JoBros but it seems like the latter had more (solo) lines than the other TXT members :( Perhaps we'll get an OT5 performance soon?

[wingedshadowfan]

Hi, I just found your blog by seeing a reblog in another blog I follow for another show and I loved it all. So much great meta. I loved Arcane and I LOVED Caitlyn, she’s my fave by far but I’m not in the fandom in any way because after way too long in countless fandoms I know what kind of crap I would find about the show and Cait and seeing everyone’s “defense” of her here I can see I was right. So most of fans hate her? Don’t get any kind of complexity? Think she’s unredeemable for her serious but understandable mistakes? Only care about poor fandom’s fave Jinx who has never done anything wrong in her life? LOL so not surprising.

I think I’ll keep myself away from that but I was wondering if you read fic? I would love to read some but written by authors who actually love Caitlyn, hell if she’s their fave even better so you or any of your followers have any recs? I never read any fic in this fandom but I would love to try but the number of fics are staggering. Thank you, even without any recs it was a pleasure to read so much good meta about Caitlyn. 

ooh, this is gonna be a long reply!

first of all, thank you so much! i'm super glad we can support each other in critically analyzing and discussing media together, especially one as complicated, meticulously and lovingly made as arcane <3

i'm convinced i will never shut up abt caitlyn and though i do call it defense, it's not about excusing or justifying her actions for me, i truly think she has one of the most interesting (if not the most interesting) arcs in the whole show, and having gone through a character regression and made a ton of mistakes doesn't take away from that, it adds onto it for me. she seems to still be quite misunderstood by the fandom in terms of moral compass, motivations and intention, which is why i hope people would look a little deeper into her (very complex) character after reading some posts abt her - mine or otherwise. tiktok user danpyxel has some amazing analysis (they've got a background in narrative, afaik) and they're incredibly pleasing to listen to, i recommend them for arcane discussions not just about caitlyn!!

now, i'm not a jinx hater in the slightest, i think she's also a very complicated and interesting character, one who mirrors caitlyn a lot actually! and yet i keep seeing tweets like the og one here (quote retweet explained really well in just 3 tweets that that wasn't what happened) so i'm reminded the fight isn't over:

and onto your last point, i do read fanfic (and i write too, though mostly kpop ones so far)!

i'm actually cooking up a caitvi post-war fanfic/short story and it's plaguing my mind but it'll probably be finished and posted in mid jan at the earliest bcuz i'm in the middle of exam season right now :')

but yea i also haven't read anything in the arcane fandom yet bcuz it seems quite intimidating as a caitlyn enjoyer lol. if any of my followers/ppl who see this have recommendations, please please please drop them here!!

[just4jinx]

get to know me <3

please call me barbie

im twenty two, infp, lesbian, pisces, introverted

5’7 fem4all

i mostly write, create art, make edits + play video games

fave games: overwatch, genshin impact, fortnite, animal crossing, cod, colourful stage, league of legends, roblox

fave characters: jinx, elizabeth ashe, arlecchino, yelan, dva, widowmaker, anakin skywalker, katniss everdeen, kang yuna, rin matsuoka

mains:

overwatch: dva, ashe, mercy (+ sombra, kiri if needed)

fortnite: jinx, heroic hope

genshin: arle, yelan (+ itto, yae miko, scara if needed)

league: jinx, caitlyn, ahri

colourful stage: miku, emu

random fun facts:

i pretty much only wear pink + black (dark fem aesthetic with a side of cutesy <3)

i went to art collage so im qualified in all sorts (photography, fine art, textiles, graphic design, you name it)

i grew up dancing and performing on stage at shows as well as competing in track events (mainly sprinting)

i listen to most music but mainly kpop, 2000-2010 pop, billie eilish, anything super cunty, scenecore, breakcore, emo/screamo (thanks to my teenage emo phase)

ive been noticed by multiple kpop girl groups and i mostly collect photocards + signed albums

(fave groups: itzy, kiof, newjeans, gidle, twice, ive, bts, svt)

people keep telling me i look like a mix of katy perry and jade west but i dont see it

my fave places are beaches, shopping malls and fairgrounds

lets be friends >:D

[ryuukootan]

Jinsoul Caitlyn 2024

[nickeverdeen]

Hii! Im requesting a matchup for Arcane and TLOU, only women please <3

My pronouns are she/her, I am Caribbean-American and have brown skin, my hair is naturally really really dark brown but I have reddish brown braids rn. When my hair is straightened (I’ve only straightened it once recently, I don’t like doing it cuz of heat), its like past my shoulders a bit in length. My eyes are really really dark brown as well.

I am 5’4 and on the curvier side, my thighs are on the bigger side with some muscle (I played soccer and danced all while I was younger), my stomach is on the flatter side but not completely flat and I’m a size 36D.

Its hard to explain my style but its like a mix of stockholm style, downtown girl, but also pretty simple and minimal. I like lace tops, dark colored jeans, colorful scarfs, linen pants, soft hoodies, low cut tops (I like showing the girls off every now and then :p). I’m a gold jewelry girl but love silver in shoes, clothing, and my bag.

I unfortunately have one of the worst resting faces. Sometimes I look sad (when I’m nott), sometimes I look upset/mad, and sometimes I just have a blank stare. I’ve been told many times from friends and family that they can’t tell what I’m thinking. In reality I have a very silly personality, I like making jokes and being sarcastic here and there but I think this part of me only comes out when I’m comfortable and close with the other person. In general I’m introverted but will usually be the first to start the conversation with another introvert. I’m pretty shy and have never really been approached or approached anyone in a sober setting. I’ve been compared to being most like a bunny or a cat in that sense.

I’m reserved but at the same time love going out with friends. Recently I was working in a group project and when I was in a group project last year, I naturally take on a leader role where I make sure ever is ok but I’m also a bit bossy bc I like getting work done. I admit I can be mean at times but I’m quick to apologize in a group setting. I can get quite annoyed easily but I never let it show unless I want it known I’m annoyed. I’m a big sister. My mbti is INTP.

Interests wise…I loveee the beach. Especially the beaches in California (I don’t live here, visited a few years ago) and the Caribbean for the clearer water. I love cats, my favorite domesticated animal. My favorite animal in general are penguins <3. I like music sm you will almost never find me without my airpods or headphones. I go to concerts as often as I can. I like anime, not into kpop in terms of the industry happenings but love the music. My career interest rn is data analysis and I actually did a data analysis on my Spotify. I listen mostly to dance pop, bedroom pop/indie, kpop, rap, grunge, and a lot more other genres.

I don’t like people with toooo much energy. I love my extroverts but they know when to be chill and serious. I don’t have a preference on whether my partner would be introvert or extrovert. I love someone that can catch my sarcasm and my jokes. I like it when ppl are honest and upfront with me, I don’t like dancing around topics. I am confrontational only when I notice something is seriously wrong in the other person. There are times or days even where I just need to be alone but I still like being checked on. My love language is definitely acts of service and quality time.

Your Arcane match is…

Caitlyn Kiramman

Caitlyn would be drawn to your reserved nature and would make it her personal mission to draw out your more playful side, finding every subtle smile or laugh you give absolutely enchanting

With your love of the beach, Caitlyn would plan a surprise trip to a lakeside spot near Piltover

The day would include a private picnic, quiet moments by the water, and, of course, an excuse for her to see you more relaxed and in your element

She’d be fascinated by your music taste, letting you introduce her to K-pop, indie, and grunge while she shares her own favorite classical or jazz pieces

She’d even bring you records from Piltover’s best music shops as little surprises

Caitlyn’s calm and observant demeanor would perfectly balance your preference for chill energy

She’d know when to give you space and would always be there to listen when you’re ready to talk

Caitlyn would be captivated by your mix of Stockholm style and simplicity, admiring your looks every time you dress up

She’d subtly hint at how stunning you look in lace and dark colors

She’d notice your love of gold jewelry and even gift you a bracelet or necklace that complements her own minimalistic style

Caitlyn’s sharp detective skills would help her interpret your resting face, making her one of the few people who can tell if you’re actually upset or just neutral

She’d pride herself on “reading” you correctly

Knowing you appreciate quality time and occasional alone time, Caitlyn would be the type to quietly sit with you while you work or read, respecting your need for space but keeping you company all the same

She’d match your sarcasm and dry humor easily, delivering sly comments right back at you

Together, you’d share a playful, teasing dynamic that brings out both your clever sides

Caitlyn would respect your natural tendency to take the lead, and in group settings, she’d subtly back you up or help you stay organized

Your TLOU match is…

Dina

Dina would understand your introverted side, loving quiet days in where you can both relax

She’d be the type to hang out at your place, listening to music or binging shows, while you both recharge

Dina would check in on you regularly without being too intrusive

She’d be aware of when you need your alone time and would respect that, but she’d leave little notes or send you a quick message, so you know she’s there

Dina’s wit and sense of humor would match yours perfectly

She’d find your sarcasm adorable and would keep the jokes going, bringing out your sillier side in the best way

As someone who’s been through intense situations, Dina would understand your reserved nature and be patient with you

Her empathy would make her both gentle and direct, knowing exactly how to approach tough subjects with honesty

Dina would take on a slightly protective role, understanding that you sometimes feel reserved around others

She’d casually keep an eye out for you in social settings, making sure you feel comfortable

She’d absolutely love your Stockholm/downtown girl aesthetic and would compliment you endlessly

Occasionally, she’d borrow one of your hoodies or scarves, adding a hint of her own rugged, effortless style to your closet

With your shared love for animals, she’d be over the moon to volunteer with you at the shelter or spend lazy days with your cats, adoring every moment of caring for animals together

Dina is straightforward, but she’d appreciate your approach to confrontation

You’d both have deep, honest conversations about anything on your minds, knowing that open communication is your foundation

She’d tease you gently about your “serious” resting face, finding it cute that you can look so intimidating while being such a warm person

You’d both laugh about how people misread you

Dina would pick up on your love language quickly, leaving little notes, cooking a simple meal for you, or organizing small surprises

[acclaaa]

Caitlyn with Jayce is me with them male Kpop idols

I can't help but feel that Jayce was probably a really important part of Caitlyn's lesbian awakening. To the tune of, "Here's this guy who is pretty much the dictionary definition of male beauty, who my mother would probably be thrilled for me to end up with, and after hitting puberty my level of attraction to him is approximately zero. I think I might be into girls."

(And also, I'm just saying, queer kids tend to band together in school and you're telling me Jayce Talis's only friends are the lesbian daughter of his patron and Viktor, the most queer-coded scientist since Alan Turing, and you're saying this guy isn't bisexual? We all saw the faces change in the fire, you can't fool me.)

[jokeson-u]

so idk if you ever heard that whole pseudo theory for kpop that that ur bias is the one u relate to/project on the most, and ur bias wrecker is the one ur most attracted to/ur 'ideal type.' and i was thinking like.. that concept would apply to characters, too. and theres definitely some exceptions in my roster but its actually pretty accurate.

natalie? fav, i project everything on her. lottie? second fav, i need her primally

kates my absolute favorite but i wanna fuck clint

vi is my fav angst baby, but caitlyn as my second fav is the one who needs to be inside me

on and on