Chapter Text
Vi wakes to a gentle scratch of fingers along her scalp. They card through her hair, tousling the red strands. It’s almost enough to lull her back to sleep, but the light filtering through the window tells her it’s time to wake up and start the day.
Beneath the layers of blankets, Caitlyn’s legs entwine with her own. Her embrace is warm and comforting.
Slowly, Vi turns in Caitlyn’s hold, careful not to displace her hands, prepared with a greeting and a good morning kiss.
She pauses. Takes in Caitlyn’s features.
She’s staring off into the distance, looking somewhere between the window and the corner of the room. Her eyes are unfocused and unblinking, lost in thought. Her fingers keep moving absently though Vi’s hair.
Vi waits, watching for a reaction, a realisation that she’s awake. When it doesn’t come, she presses her lips, dry from sleep, to the soft skin of Caitlyn’s shoulder.
Blinking herself back to reality, Caitlyn glances down, a barely-there smile toying at her lips. Her fingers cease their movements.
“Morning, love.”
“Mor–” Vi’s voice breaks, throat hoarse and raspy after a night of disuse, “Morning.”
She rolls into Caitlyn’s side, an arm slinging across her stomach.
“Whatcha thinking about so hard this early in the morning?”
Caitlyn flicks an eyebrow and deadpans, “It’s almost eleven.”
Vi’s mouth falls open in a soft oh, the word trailing off into a sheepish grin. “This late in the morning, then.”
Caitlyn stops to consider.
“I was thinking about your birthday,” she muses, “it’s in a few weeks.”
“Ah.”
Right.
Vi doesn’t think much about her birthday. When she was younger, Vander would make an effort to celebrate both her and her siblings' special day. Each December, without fail, he’d begin planning weeks in advance. Vander didn’t rely on an X on the calendar to mark the day, he just…remembered.
After years in prison, of days blending together, Vi lost track of time. Survival became more important. She had to quickly adapt to her surroundings. It was only when her birthday had passed that she remembered it, sometimes weeks, months following the day.
She screws her eyes tight in an attempt to wash away the memories.
Caitlyn resumes playing with her hair. Vi’s shoulders fall with the contact, relaxing as Caitlyn distracts her from thoughts of Stillwater.
Gentle fingers twist the steel hoop in her ear.
“Is there anything you want?”
Vi hums, considering. She turns into the touch that falls to rest along her jaw.
Caitlyn always makes an effort, carving out time for Vi and Vi alone. Birthdays, anniversaries, holidays. Times when Vi feels antsy, Piltover becoming too familiar.
Usually they use it as an excuse to get out of the city for a couple of days, travel somewhere new.
Last year, they visited the Kiramman family cabin for a whole week. Caitlyn made the suggestion and Vi went along with it. She didn’t realise how much she would value being in the middle of nowhere, surrounded only by greenery, a wide lake and the mountains.
Vi can almost feel the heat of the log fire warming her skin. The whisper of hisses from the kindling. The sharp smell of the smoke that took days to wash out of their clothes and hair.
Moments of their last evening together flash through Vi’s mind, bits and pieces, fragmented by fluttering eyelids and breathy moans tapering off into silence. Caitlyn breaking her apart inch by inch until she shuddered to a finish, her trembling limbs not strong enough to keep her upright. Vi could do little else but watch as Caitlyn came from the toy she’d secretly packed away.
“You,” she mumbles, “just want you—”
Vi stops.
Everything inside her plummets as she realises what she just said, just admitted to.
She wants to blame her sleep-addled mind, or Caitlyn’s fingers in her hair, massaging her scalp, helping tear down her walls, or the memory of the most relaxing week of her life.
Anything but her own want and desire.
She clears her throat.
“Want you–want to spend the day with you,” she corrects. Heat rises on her neck, creeping its way up to her cheeks. She refuses to look anywhere near Caitlyn; can’t catch her mistake, the pink flush, if she doesn’t look at her.
But of course Caitlyn sees right through her, like she’s made of glass.
“Is there…anything in particular you want to do? ‘With’ me?”
The question brings Vi's mind back to that moment when Caitlyn came, the toy covering her clit, whirrs drowning out the crackle of the fire—
—arousal glistening her entrance, spread by two fingers teasing.
Her body bowing off the bed, whimpers replacing words.
Hand falling away to grasp at the sheets, toes curled.
Knees coming together, trapping the toy against herself.
Breathless, gasping for air.
Fighting the urge to not hide or change the subject entirely, Vi summons the courage from somewhere to ask:
“The thing—can you use the thing?”
Great, she groans internally, clear as day.
Coward.
“Ah! The thing.” Caitlyn snaps her fingers, taking Vi’s vague question and understanding immediately.
Of course Caitlyn understands. Caitlyn always knows what she wants without her having to ask—
“What thing, love?” Caitlyn asks softly, turning to meet Vi’s eyes.
Fuck.
Vi takes a shuddering breath, balling her hands into fists.
Asking isn’t her strong point, she knows this.
But this is Caitlyn.
Caitlyn, who has shared the majority of Vi’s firsts—
—the only ones worth remembering.
Caitlyn, who Vi trusts more than any person in Runeterra, who would never judge her for her desires, for voicing those desires and asking for what she wants.
“Take your time.”
Caitlyn speaks into the crown of her head, nuzzling closer to press a kiss into the thick of her hair.
Vi melts into the touch.
Deep breath.
Here goes nothing.
“Can we use—you. Can you use your vibrator? On me?”
Vi knows she is red in the face; the warmth emanates from her skin. Her heart pounds in her chest, heavy from the weight of the question. If her hands weren’t balled into fists, they would be shaking.
Caitlyn answers like it’s the easiest thing in the world:
“Of course, love,” she says, “Anything you want.”
She brings her hands to Vi’s nape, twirling strands of hair around a finger.
”Thank you for asking.”
Between that late morning and her birthday, they discuss at length the best way to approach it.
How to make sure Vi isn’t too far out of her comfort zone.
Safewords, and the like.
Vi trusts Caitlyn to make this good for her.
For both of them.
The room is painted gold.
The evening sun streams through the slits in the blinds, half closed to give some semblance of privacy.
Vi hovers in the doorway, shifting on her feet, nerves settling in the pit of her stomach—
—the good and the bad kind.
Caitlyn flits about the room, checking things, fluffing the pillows, repositioning them to a comfortable height.
She’s nervous too, Vi can tell.
Wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants and a black bralette, Caitlyn looks ready to spend the afternoon cuddling, maybe take a nap in bed—
Not like she’s about to debauch Vi completely.
Chucking the vibrator on the bed, she crawls to the centre of the mattress and leans against the headboard, nestled into the small mountain of pillows they’ve amassed. She pats the space between her legs, inviting Vi to join her.
The bed dips under the weight of her thighs, tipping the vibrator into her side.
Vi chose this one because it's Caitlyn’s favourite.
Not that Caitlyn has a ranking of toys, but Vi has noticed how her whines are a bit breathier, how she always comes a bit quicker when using this one.
With a final deep breath, Vi makes her way over to Caitlyn, settling in between her thighs.
A finger pokes her side.
“Lean back. I can take it.”
Vi bends into the touch, ticklish. Then, slowly, she lays back into Caitlyn, careful not to add too much pressure too fast. Her hands settle on the soft cotton covering Caitlyn’s thighs, bunched up in the fabric, grounding her as she shifts to get comfortable.
Caitlyn’s chin rests on her shoulder, her finger tracing circles along the tattoos on her leg. Vi breathes out a pleased sigh at the contact.
A trio of soft kisses make their way across her collarbone.
Caitlyn’s thumb grazes over scarred knuckles. Vi’s hands unfurl at the touch.
“Ready?”
Vi nods once, her voice caught in her throat.
“I need to hear you, love.”
Hesitation grips at her, the little confidence she had falling away.
“It’s okay.” Caitlyn’s fingers continue the patterns on her thigh, through the soft hairs. “It’s just us, you and me.”
I can do this.
It’s Caitlyn.
She trusts Caitlyn.
Vi takes a breath to steady herself.
“Yes. Ready.”
And a quieter:
“Please.”
Caitlyn smiles into her shoulder, presses a kiss to inked skin. “Good girl. Can I take these off?” She tugs lightly at the elastic waistband of Vi’s boxers.
Vi lifts her hips, dragging the material down and off her legs in one swift motion, tossing them to the corner of the room.
A huff of a breath hits her neck.
“Eager.”
Caitlyn is laughing at her.
Vi is too desperate to care.
Caitlyn hooks a foot under her calf and guides her legs apart.
“I’ll go over the rules one last time. Alright?”
“Okay.”
“Keep your hands by your sides. You can touch me, not yourself—
Vi sandwiches her hands between her thighs and Caitlyn’s.
“—and don’t get in the way of what I’m doing. If you need me to stop, say the word…”
Caitlyn trails off, prompting a response.
“Red.” Vi’s hips twitch off the mattress, seeking some form of contact. “Cait, please.”
She’s already needy and they’ve barely started. They’ve spent weeks building up to this moment. All day, Vi’s thoughts have pointed to right now, having Caitlyn’s hands on her.
“So polite. So Good.” Caitlyn plants a kiss behind her ear, just shy of her piercings. She hums into the shaved side of her hair. “Patience, my love.”
Screw patience, Vi wants to say.
Doesn’t.
Because Caitlyn said she was good.
She’s trying to be good.
Caitlyn trails her fingers along her skin. Light, caressing touches along her collarbone, fingernails barely grazing her chest.
Vi fights the goosebumps threatening to rise on her skin, loses, and releases the shiver zipping up her spine.
“Sensitive.”
Vi doesn’t know if Caitlyn meant to say the word aloud. It’s barely a whisper, spoken within a single breath.
Caitlyn finds Vi’s nipple through her sports bra. She pushes into the touch, searching for more. Finds nothing, the fabric too thick to feel any sort of pleasure.
“Can I–you, can you...”
A pause.
Start again.
“Wanna feel you, Cait, can’t—”
Caitlyn gets the hint, pushing the fabric out of the way. Cool air hits Vi’s breast, making her nipple pebble.
She sucks in a breath and chokes down a moan as Caitlyn scratches a fingernail across the peak.
A sharp pain shoots through her.
Not at all unpleasant.
Both too much, and not enough at the same time.
Caitlyn’s other hand settles against her inner thigh, trailing touches across soft hairs. Teasing, but likely not meant to be. Caitlyn touches because she likes the contact. Has told Vi so in the past.
But Vi wants.
God, does she want.
Her hips cant up and off the bed, ever so slightly, no more than a twitch of muscle.
Enough for Caitlyn to notice.
“Stay still, love.” The petting ceases, the hand on her chest falling away. “Let me have my fun, I’ll give you what you need.”
Vi can’t stop the honest-to-God whine that escapes her, can’t fight her own desperation.
“Cait, need—”
“Tell me what you need.”
Nimble fingers find her other nipple, lavishing the same wonderful pain-pleasure she's becoming addicted to.
Vi tilts her head back onto Caitlyn’s shoulder, staring at the ceiling.
She sucks in a breath. Exhales, shakily.
The bedroom has grown dimmer, sun hiding behind some of the taller buildings to the west of Piltover.
The bedsheets twist in her fist, wrinkling under her hold.
A car drives by outside, engine drowning out Vi’s heavy pants. The evidence remains, obvious in how her chest rises and falls, how her lips part but no words come out.
“Vi,” Caitlyn coaxes, “What do you need?”
“Touch me—need you to touch me.”
Caitlyn rewards her with the lightest of touches, two fingers spreading her folds, middle finger finding her clit.
Vi whimpers, feeling sensitive at the sudden contact, despite asking—no, begging—for it in the first place.
“God, you’re wet, darling.” Caitlyn traces a finger around her entrance, gathering her slick and drawing a line through her lips, back to her clit. “Got yourself worked up waiting for me to touch you, hm ?”
Caitlyn slowly builds up a rhythm, finger swiping across Vi’s clit. Another joins the first as her pace quickens.
Vi’s hands bunch into the fabric of the bed sheets, scarred skin twisting through navy blue. Somewhere in the back of her mind is a warning to not rip a hole, but her thoughts are consumed with more, faster—
—and an urgent need to come.
Moving away from her chest, Caitlyn lets her free hand roam lower.
Vi shivers at the mixed sensations—slow, teasing patterns drawn across her stomach, hips, thighs—versus the insistent strokes against her clit.
Caitlyn continues her path, coming to a stop between Vi’s legs. She grazes over her entrance with the tips of her fingers, shocking a gasp from her.
“...dripping all over the bed. You’re making quite the mess of yourself.”
Heat floods Vi’s face, splotches of red painting her chest.
She clenches around nothing, chasing the phantom touch of Caitlyn’s fingers.
“Cait—inside, wanna feel you.”
Caitlyn turns to bury her nose in her hair, nuzzling faintly before humming to herself in mock consideration.
When she doesn’t make any signs of moving, Vi shifts her hips down, edging herself closer to where she needs.
Caitlyn shifts her hand, palm flat on her thigh.
“Behave.”
Vi stills. Twitches involuntarily. Stills again.
After a beat, Caitlyn’s fingers take their place.
On Vi’s next stutter, they push in. A groan tears itself from her throat.
Two fingers crook, finding that spot inside Vi on the third curl.
Her vision blurs out of focus, her pulse beating in her ears.
Pumping in and out, Caitlyn continues her dizzying barrage of pleasure, her rhythm stuttering more than once as she tries to keep her pace.
Vi chokes down a groan.
“Close—fuck—g’na come.”
The warning renews Caitlyn’s vigour, her fingers work in tandem, curling inside her, swiping over her clit. The sound of Vi’s arousal is clearly audible in the room, drowning out the sound of her short panting breaths, her mindless babbling, a continuous whispered stream of pleasepleaseplease.
Caitlyn leans in, lips pressing to her ear.
“Come.”
One word is all it takes—a single command—for Vi’s peak to hit her all at once.
Static fills her ears, her jaw clenches, teeth grinding together in an effort to keep quiet.
Not too loud.
She lets go.
With a slack jaw, lips parting in a silent gasp, Vi grips the bedsheets between her fingers, toes digging in almost painfully. Her hips stutter off the bed, chasing the pleasure from Caitlyn’s skillful hands as they continue to fuck her through her orgasm, moving with her, staying where she needs them.
She starts to come down, but Caitlyn’s pace doesn’t slow. Fingers stay inside her, keep rubbing circles on her clit.
Vi almost twists away in oversensitivity. Remembers the agreement they had at the beginning, the promise to not get in Caitlyn’s way. She stills, trying to be good, but a whine bubbles in her throat. A warning.
Caitlyn’s fingers still on her clit.
“Too much?”
Vi hums a confirmation, watching with rapt attention as Caitlyn removes her fingers, unable to look away from how they stick together, webbed by translucent strings.
Caitlyn wipes them on the sheets, staining navy blue fabric with Vi’s release.
Then she pats around the bed blindly, searching for something. When she finds it, Vi hears a quiet whisper of an ah-hah, warm breath tickling her throat.
Soft vibrations fill the room as Caitlyn clicks the vibrator on to the first setting.
“Vi. Can you give me another?”
Vi’s hips continue to twitch with aftershocks, her body refusing to still. She swallows the moan threatening to slip out, breathing out a quiet yes instead, her lips parting around a silent fuck.
Caitlyn raises the toy to her nipple, pressing the head to her breast, kissing it to her skin.
The silicone head surrounds her nipple, gentle vibrations massaging the nub.
For all the times Vi has used this toy on Caitlyn, has watched Caitlyn use it on herself, Vi hadn’t been prepared for how overwhelming something so little could feel.
She sucks in a breath. Screws her eyes shut. The cotton between her fingers wrinkles as she scrunches the fabric into her fist. She throws her head into the space between Caitlyn’s neck and shoulder, making it her home.
Caitlyn focuses her attention on the bud, making air pulse around Vi.
Fingertips find her other nipple. Wet fingertips. Either from her arousal or Caitlyn’s saliva, Vi doesn’t know. Both thoughts make her head spin.
Caitlyn twists and tugs at the peak, pinching it between her fingers. The combination of stinging pain and gentle vibrations makes Vi’s head fuzzy, confuses her senses in the most delicious way imaginable.
She doesn’t know if she wants to press further into the contact or twist away from it. Neither sources of pleasure are enough to bring her close, to tip her over the edge.
Caitlyn drops her hands, removing all touch.
Vi doesn’t whine—she doesn’t.
But she’s close.
When Caitlyn switches sides, focuses the toy on the opposite bud, Vi is prepared this time. Only a slight jolt at the contact.
“More,” Vi mewls, beyond shame. “Need more.”
Caitlyn’s free hand settles at the apex of Vi’s thigh.
“More?” she echoes, “Where?”
The pad of her finger brushes the damp, coarse hair at Vi’s entrance.
“Here?”
“Yes. God, fuck me.”
Caitlyn retracts her finger, moves to grip at Vi’s outer thigh. Her fingernails scratch lightly, ticklish more than anything else.
Stops.
Switches to make circular motions into the muscle with her thumb. The same motions she was making on Vi’s clit as she came down from her orgasm.
Menace.
Caitlyn hums to herself, considering.
“No, I don’t think I will.”
Vi strains with the effort of holding herself still, trusting herself and her pleasure to Caitlyn, knowing she’ll make this good for her, but fuck—
—the waiting may kill her first.
Caitlyn continues her teasing. Moves away from Vi’s nipples, leaving them tight and red from the attention. She turns off the toy, keeping it in one hand as the other draws up to Vi’s stomach.
Goosebumps rise on Vi’s skin at the light, barely-there caresses along her abdomen. She shivers under the contact, muscles twitching, trying to jump away from the touch.
Finally—finally—Caitlyn brings a hand back down between her thighs.
With two fingers, she parts Vi’s lips.
Vi sighs. One part nerves, one part relief.
Caitlyn positions the toy over her clit, unmoving.
“Ready, love?” she whispers.
Vi nods, once.
“I need you to say it.”
“Y-yeah.”
It’s shaky, cracked out between a breath.
But it’s all Caitlyn needs.
Testing the waters, Caitlyn presses the on button, starting at the lowest speed.
Vi lurches at the vibrations, back bending off the bed. Both too much and not enough in the wake of her first orgasm.
“Stay still for me, my love.”
“Trying.” A low, needy groan drags itself from Vi’s throat. “‘s a lot, feels good—”
Caitlyn cuts off her rambling, raising the toy from her clit.
“Do you need help keeping still?”
Oh fuck.
“P-please.”
Caitlyn settles a hand on her hip. Strong enough to stop any involuntary movements. Weak enough that Vi can move out of her hold if she wants to, needs to.
“That’s my good girl.”
Vi chokes out a sob as the vibrator finds its place over, around, on her clit once more.
Caitlyn doesn’t give her time to adjust, clicks the vibrations to the next setting. The toy whirs louder now, vibrations stronger.
Only the second setting, Vi’s subconscious helpfully reminds her.
Her knees move to close. She’s sensitive, twitching. Wanting to get away from the pleasure and closer at the same time. Caitlyn is quicker, a hand shooting out to grasp at her thigh, keeping her parted.
“Is it too much?” Caitlyn’s thumb strokes across Vi’s thigh.
Vi shakes her head.
“Not enough?”
Caitlyn adjusts her hand, tilting the toy back, forth. Trying to find the right angle.
Vi squirms, helping. Searching for the position that will—
“Oh–fuck. Cait, right there, right—”
Caitlyn sends the intensity up two more notches, slides her hand back to Vi’s hip so she doesn’t stir any further.
Vi scrambles to grab onto something, anything. If she keeps clawing at the sheets she’ll tear through the fabric. She settles on her own legs, nails digging into her skin.
In her frantic panic at the change of speed, she presses up and into the head of the toy, the vibrations directly on the sensitive bead.
Sweat pearls on her skin, heat radiating off her in waves. Her hairline is damp with it, the spaces between her fingers, in the dip of her stomach. Her hands slip over her thighs, trying to get a grip, can’t.
It’s wet between her thighs, with her own slick or perspiration, she can’t tell.
“Are you close?”
Yes.
No.
Fuck.
Vi doesn’t know
Caitlyn must sense her hesitation.
“What can I do? This is all for you, Vi, whatever you want.”
She flutters. Clenches around nothing. The ghost of Caitlyn’s fingers are still crooking, pressing into her.
“Inside, want—”
“Do you want my cock?” Caitlyn interrupts.
Vi claws at her thigh, hard enough to leave marks.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. You can’t just say shit like that.”
Caitlyn giggles. Giggles.
Ridiculous.
“Is that a yes?”
“Is that a—yes. It’s a yes.”
Caitlyn drops the vibrator to the bed, still buzzing off to the side. It’s louder now that it’s not pressed against Vi. The head glistens clear with arousal under the light of the lamp.
Twisting her body, Caitlyn jostles Vi, rustling around to find what she’s looking for. The drawer of the nightstand slides opens.
Vi takes herself in, stares down at the scratches on her legs, imprints of where her nails were biting into skin. Red blotches spatter across her lower body, legs entangled with Caitlyn’s own. The rest of her probably isn’t faring any better.
The room should be shrouded in darkness at this hour, but at some point Caitlyn had flicked on a lamp, casting a dim glow over them.
She runs a shaky hand through her hair, damp and clinging to her forehead.
The drawer scrapes shut. Caitlyn takes her original position back on the bed.
Vi makes a point to not look at the dildo she's holding. Too intimidating right now.
Caitlyn takes the vibrator in her other hand, lowers the vibration at the press of her thumb and brings it back to Vi’s clit.
A tremble racks Vi’s body.
It’s not enough. Fuck. The shift in position. The change in speed.
It takes a couple tries to get the head situated in the same place as before, Caitlyn’s hands growing tired, Vi’s wetness coating the toy, clinging to her skin, making the glide slippery.
When she looks for Caitlyn's other hand, Vi finds an empty spot on the bed instead.
A wet pop whips her head around. She turns to see Caitlyn lewdly sucking on the dildo, silicone covered in saliva.
Shit. God. Fuck.
Caitlyn wets the length with her tongue. Her eyes haze over a little, unfocused as she concentrates.
Once she deems it slick enough, Caitlyn brings the toy to Vi’s entrance and pauses.
Vi scrunches her eyes shut, forces the rest of her body to relax.
The tip of the dildo nudges her, warmed from Caitlyn’s mouth. Vi’s hands move on their own, gripping in the cotton of Caitlyn’s sweatpants.
“Careful,” Caitlyn warns, “What’s your colour, darling?”
Vi swallows, mouth dry.
“Green,” she breaths, “Green, so fucking green.”
“So good for me.”
Caitlyn holds the vibrator steady in her left hand, eases the dildo inside Vi with the right.
Vi opens around it, nails digging into Caitlyn’s thigh, mouth parted in a silent gasp.
Her stomach rolls in waves, trying to fuck her hips up into the vibrator, down onto the dildo.
Caitlyn moves the dildo in small increments, withdrawing slightly, and back in, coating the silicone in Vi’s slick.
Once fully seated, Caitlyn ceases her movements, the head of the dildo directly pressing to the soft spot inside Vi—the spot that sends fiery sparks shooting behind her eyelids.
Without the distraction of being entered, the suction on her clit makes Vi’s head spin. She can do little else but groan, hope that Caitlyn gets the message to move.
A click sounds in the room and the dildo vibrates to life.
Unwavering attention from both sides.
Vi jolts off the bed.
Caitlyn lets her.
“Fuckfuckfuck. Oh, shit. Ahhaah—”
Her moans echo in the room, nails clawing harder.
No matter how she moves, she’s pressing into some kind of pleasure.
Caitlyn holds the vibrator flat on her clit, begins to thrust the dildo in and out.
Slow.
Painfully slow.
“Cait—please. You gotta, fuck, you g—move. More.”
All coherency is lost.
Thankfully, Caitlyn understands her pleas. Her pace quickens with each press.
Stretching her. Filling her.
Above the buzzing of the toys, over her own heavy breathing—her begging—Vi can just about hear Caitlyn’s whispered praise:
“That’s it.”
“—wanna hear you.”
“—sound so pretty whimpering my name.”
“...you’re okay, it’s just me.”
“I’m—haah—close,” Vi manages around a strangled moan. It’s the only warning she can bite out before her ears fill with static, drowning out the world beyond the bedroom.
Vi’s hips roll into Caitlyn’s hand, wanting more more more. With both feet planted into the mattress, Vi thrusts up, chasing the pleasure. Her thighs shake with the effort.
As she comes, everything is silent. The buzzing, her own breathy gasps for air, Caitlyn’s words of encouragement. Vi hears none of it.
Instead, she focuses on the solidity of Caitlyn behind her, how soft her sweatpants are as she grips the fabric in her hands. The smell of Caitlyn’s perfume, something fruity and sweet, mixed with Vi’s own tang.
Her heart thumps heavy in her chest, erratic and unwilling to slow.
Balmy skin convulses in aftershocks.
Blinking the room back into focus, Vi realises the vibrator has been turned off. Caitlyn scratches along her thighs, now back on the plush mattress.
The static in her ears fade and goosebumps rise on her legs, sensitive to the grounding touch.
“There you are, my love,” Caitlyn says, chin resting on her shoulder, “Good?”
“Mmmm,” Vi hums, the movement tickling her lips, “Very.”
It takes a few moments for her to regain enough strength to attempt to turnin Caitlyn’s arms, needing to see her, touch her, kiss her.
She doesn’t get very far, the dildo still inside her sending a zing of oversensitivity through her entire being.
“Sorry, let me just—” Caitlyn eases the toy from Vi, as delicately as possible. The wet sound of the dildo causes Vi to twitch away, mortification making itself known.
Evidence of her release is spread across the toy, purple silicone shining under the light.
“You made quite the mess, love,” Caitlyn says, turning the toy in her hand, inspecting it.
If it was physically possible to blush any more, Vi would have.
Then Caitlyn takes the toy to her mouth, slipping the head between her lips, making a show of sucking it clean.
Vi watches, entranced.
With near black eyes, Caitlyn doesn’t look away, keeps her gaze steady. Her tongue licks a stripe up the length of the toy, a single string of saliva connecting her to the tip.
Vi can’t take it any longer, needs to move, to reach out and touch. Leaning forward on her knees, she threads a hand through Caitlyn’s hair, wilder than it was when they first started, the other settling in the curve of her waist.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, d’you know that?” The words are spoken against Caitlyn’s lips, only just brushing.
It’s Caitlyn who moves first, bringing them together. Vi can taste herself on her tongue, groans into her mouth.
Her hand grips tighter in Caitlyn’s hair, enough to drag a gasp of want from her.
“Let me take care of you.”
Hesitation floods Caitlyn’s features, a deep furrow in her eyebrows.
Before she can offer a rebuttal, Vi speaks again.
“Please. You did so well taking care of me, let me do the same for you.”
She’s nodding, encouraging Caitlyn to give herself over, to her own pleasure.
When Caitlyn nods back, Vi offers a gentle squeeze of thanks, praise, something. She doesn’t exactly know, but it helps Caitlyn relax back into the pillows, holding herself up by only her elbows.
Vi sits between her thighs, only then realising she’s still wearing her sweatpants.
“Can I take th–”
She’s interrupted by Caitlyn scrambling to rid herself of her pants, almost like the fabric simply existing is offensive to her.
“Underwear too? Someone’s eager.” Vi laughs, trying to conceal her smirk.
“What can I say? Feeling you writhe against me, whimpering my name…” Caitlyn pauses, a smirk tugging at her lips. “You’d be eager, too.”
Vi’s jaw snaps shut, cockiness evaporating.
Moving to lie on her stomach, she spreads Caitlyn’s thighs, glances up to make sure she’s still watching her.
She is.
Vi kisses once, twice along Caitlyn’s thighs, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin, edging closer to her centre.
“Haven’t touched you yet, but look at you,” Vi marvels, “this wet already.”
She licks through the slick on Caitlyn’s folds, tongue flattened against the heat, the wetness, the taste of her, and sucks her clit into her mouth.
The quick succession causes Caitlyn to fall back into the mattress, unable to hold her own weight any longer. As she moves, she tangles her fingers through Vi’s hair, pushing the strands out of her face, inadvertently giving Vi a clearer view.
She draws away to Caitlyn’s other thigh.
She bites, enough to leave a bruise come morning. Caitlyn tries to bring her back to her clit, tugging lightly at her hair.
“What do you need, pretty girl?” Another bite, followed by a placating kiss over the mark.
Caitlyn’s hips cant up, searching for Vi’s mouth.
“You, just—shit, your mouth.”
Vi hides her smile in her thigh. Caitlyn isn’t usually one to swear, avoids it as much as possible. She must be teetering on the edge if she’s cursing this early.
“Alright, I’ve got you.”
Vi takes Caitlyn’s clit between her lips again, focusing her attention on the swollen bud. Caitlyn writhes under her, entrance fluttering around nothing.
She’s close.
Pulling herself up, Caitlyn settles on her elbows again, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth, trying to keep her noises at bay.
Vi dips her tongue into her opening, dragging a needy groan from her throat. Licking back up through her lips, spreading her wetness. Vi pulls back long enough to murmur:
“Look so pretty, grinding on my tongue.”
Caitlyn’s hand tightens in her hair.
“Ohmygod.”
Vi mumbles out a questioning mm? The vibrations enough to send a visible shudder through Caitlyn.
It doesn’t take long for her to reach her peak, her fingers wound tightly in Vi’s hair, words of praise falling from her lips.
“Shit, so good. You’re so good to me, for me, Vi—right—ah, right there—”
When she comes, Caitlyn’s thighs twitch and pulse around Vi’s ears, desperately trying to clamp shut.
Vi keeps her spread, mouthing her through her orgasm.
Caitlyn whines out a high, desperate God, almost like a prayer, followed closely by a laugh. It spills out of her.
Her hand strokes through Vi’s hair as she comes back down to earth.
Vi rests her cheek against Caitlyn’s leg, presses wet lips to her thigh, a thumb stroking her hip. She smiles up at her, dopey and hiding absolutely none of the giddiness she feels.
“God, huh? I prefer Vi.”
Caitlyn swats at her shoulder, falling back into the bed with a lopsided grin on her face.
“Oh, shush.”
The bathroom door clicks shut, bringing Vi out of a light sleep.
Feet pattering across the floor, Caitlyn sets the freshly cleaned toys into the bedside drawer with a dull clunk.
“Tired, love?” she asks, lifting the covers and slipping underneath. It’s an innocent question, laced with a hint of pride.
Vi mumbles around a yes, coming out more like a hum than an actual word. Her eyes are heavy, struggling to stay open.
Caitlyn mirrors Vi’s position from her side of the bed, one hand tucked between her head and the pillow.
“Was that…” she trails off. Vi forces her eyes open, making it clear she’s listening.
She finds Caitlyn’s gaze in the dim light of the room, focused on a spot on the bed, a concentrated furrow between her brows.
When she doesn’t continue, Vi finds her other hand beneath the duvet. The touch sends a small jolt out of Caitlyn. She goes stock still before bringing back her attention.
Go on, I’m listening.
“Was that good…for you?”
A laugh threatens to bubble out of Vi.
“Cait, I came twice,” she manages.
Caitlyn rubs Vi’s fingers between her own. A nervous habit. She traces over the scars littering her skin to the ridges of her knuckles and down to her wrist, circling the jutting bone.
“Just checking.” Caitlyn’s voice is little more than a whisper, riddled with self-consciousness.
“Cait.”
Vi waits for eye contact, holding it before continuing. “It was more than good for me.”
“Yeah?”
Vi stills Caitlyn’s hand, hooks their fingers together. Vi exposes them to the air, above the duvet, and brings Caitlyn’s hand to her lips.
“Yeah.” As she speaks, her lips brush over Caitlyn’s skin. “I promise.”
Vi punctuates her promise with a soft kiss, nothing more than a press of lips against knuckles.
Caitlyn melts under the touch, softening with the promise.
She doesn’t speak again until their hands return to the warmth under the duvet.
“Good.” Caitlyn slides closer to Vi, drapes an arm around her waist, nestles into her side.
“Happy birthday, darling.”