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Vi can tell that the woman with blue hair is watching her.
It’s not like Vi is unfamiliar with drawing attention. As a muscular, tattooed bartender with a certain appeal to women, she knows interested eyes when she sees them. She tips a frosty mug, letting the beer run down the inside of the glass, and peers back at the woman across the bar.
She’s striking, to be sure, but she's also elegant, polished—nothing like the usual suspects at The Last Drop. The gems dripping from her ears probably cost more than Vi makes in a month. She’s dressed in a smart blazer, pinstriped pants, and a pair of heeled boots, and she holds Vi’s gaze like she’s unbothered by it. The intensity of the stare is enough to make Vi smile, a little lopsided and awkward, and she turns her eyes back down to the beer she’s pouring.
The thing is, Vi gets plenty of attention, but she doesn’t know what to do with it. Her teenage years were spent raising her little sister after their parents passed, and by the time Powder was old enough to leave the nest and head to university, Vi was 25, and she'd never had a girlfriend.
Hell, worse than that, she’d never done more than make out with a few cute girls when the whiskey made her brave enough to let go of her nerves. But the moment those girls guided her hands down, imploring her to take the lead, she always panicked and made an excuse to leave.
Call her a hopeless romantic, but Vi had always dreamed of her first time being with someone she was in love with, gazing into her girlfriend's eyes, all of that shit. But she's never been that lucky, and now she's a 25 year-old virgin who every girl thinks is some fuckboy top. She’s going to die one, at this rate.
Vi remembers herself, sliding two cold beers to a man with the worst bowl cut she’s ever seen. She watches as he walks over to a pretty blonde girl sitting at one of the booths, casually sliding his arm around her waist, and she kisses him on the cheek in response. Great, even bowl cuts can find love.
"Hello," a smooth, accented voice sounds out, and it takes Vi by surprise so much that she cracks her knuckles hard against the underside of the bar counter.
"Fuck," Vi groans, clutching her hand as she looks up at the woman who interrupted her self-deprecating spiral.
It’s the lady with the blue hair, wearing an amused grin. "I apologize for startling you."
Up close, Vi notices that the woman is older than she appeared from across the bar. She has a gray streak in her bangs and a knowing look in her eyes that belies her years. Usually, the women who are into Vi are college girls, drunk on vodka or sweet liquor. Instead, this woman has her fingers wrapped an old fashioned with a sprig of rosemary—a Vander specialty for more "distinguished" clientele.
"Uh, no worries," Vi stumbles over her words, still rubbing her reddened knuckles. "Can I get you something?"
"I don’t know. Can you?" The woman has a gap between her two front teeth. It’s oddly charming and extremely attractive. "I'd like to find out."
"I mean, I can make a drink that could kill a horse, but that doesn’t look like it'd be your style."
The woman draws her fingertip over the rim of her glass, around and around, and Vi notices exactly how long and delicate her fingers are, her nails short and manicured. "What do you think my taste is?"
Vi mulls it over, noting the deep blue of her eyes and the curiosity in her expression. This is new for Vi—this level of intensity focused entirely on her. It makes her heart flutter in her ribcage.
"You like something unique," Vi settles on. "Something from the back room, something that’s not on the menu. You want to see if I’ll make it for you." The wealthy types had a thing for feeling special.
"Is that so?" The woman asks before polishing off the rest of her drink. "What will you make me, then?"
Fuck. "Okay, gimme a minute."
Vi slips into the back room and frantically pulls her phone from her pocket, looking up "cocktails for hot older women." The first one involves some expensive whiskey that they definitely don’t have in stock (and never will, good riddance), and the rest of the list is too simple to be impressive. Vi isn’t sure why she’s so committed to impressing this woman, but she is, so she thinks harder, envisioning the woman’s features.
She looks Ionian, and it gives Vi something to go off of.
When she returns to the counter, she works quickly, garnishing the drink with a lime before she hands it off to the woman. "Here you go, Cupcake."
"Cupcake?" the woman asks incredulously.
Great fucking question, Vi. Why does she even speak? "You know, ‘cause you’re so sweet."
"Does that line work on all of your girls?"
What girls? Ugh. "Uh, you know, some of them."
She fidgets nervously while the woman sips her cocktail. Vi's track record with drinks she's never made before is spotty at best. She once almost killed Deckard with a concoction of five different liquors.
Those blue eyes open wide in surprise, with a following hum of approval. "Is this Ionian yuzu liqueur?"
"Yep," Vi says, popping the p.
"I’m impressed." The woman licks her lips, savoring the taste, and it makes Vi’s throat go dry. "I can’t thank you properly without knowing your name."
"Oh, um, it’s Violet." What. Vi literally never goes by her full first name. "But everyone calls me Vi."
"Violet," the woman says as if she’s tasting the name on her tongue along with the yuzu. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. My name is Caitlyn. It’s a pleasure to meet you."
"Caitlyn," Vi utters. Oh, a pretty, elegant name to match a pretty, elegant woman.
"That’s me," Caitlyn says, tickled by Vi’s response. "But you’ve answered my question, at least."
"Which one? You’ve been full of them since you came up here."
Those eyes pierce her again. "You give off all of this bravado and tattooed, muscular butch energy. But nobody has ever fucked you well, have they?"
Heat immediately floods Vi’s cheeks. "W-What?"
"Am I wrong?" Caitlyn asks, her expression knowing.
Shame seeps into Vi’s pores. "No."
Caitlyn clicks her tongue. "A shame that nobody has ever properly taken care of a big, strong girl like you."
"Don’t remind me," Vi mutters, sinking back into her earlier self-deprecation.
"May I humbly submit myself for your consideration?"
The words tumble around Vi’s head for longer than they should. Does Caitlyn mean what she thinks she means? There’s no way.
"You can’t mean that."
Caitlyn's lips curl up in a hint of a smile. "It’s far from work to have a pretty young thing like you wrapped around my fingers."
And if that doesn’t make heat rush straight to Vi’s pussy.
"You act like I’ll just bend over for you."
"Oh, but you would," Caitlyn purrs. "I wouldn’t even have to try."
Damn. Well, now Vi was certainly thinking about it, but she wanted to make sure this wasn’t some cruel joke from the universe. "I’m not really in your tax bracket. Are you sure?"
"You might not believe it, Violet, but you’re exactly my type," Caitlyn says easily, sliding a card across the counter. Vi takes it and immediately clocks that it’s a keycard for one of the nicest hotels in Piltover. "If you want me to give you everything you’ve been missing out on, meet me here after your shift. I’ll be waiting."
Vi is still gawking when Caitlyn slides enough cogs to pay Vi’s rent for the month toward her before strutting out of the bar. Vi pockets the keycard and the money in a daze.
What the fuck.
"Who was that?" Powder slides up beside Vi, behind the bar.
Vi pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. "Pow, I’ve said it a million times, you can’t be back here. It’s a violation of—"
"Local liquor laws, I’ve got it, grandma," Powder says, rolling her eyes as Vi escorts her to the other side of the bar. "Whoa, that rich old lady left you a fat tip!"
"She’s not old," Vi defends, even though she actually has no idea how old Caitlyn is. Definitely older than her, though.
"And she was giving you ‘fuck me’ eyes."
"More like fuck you eyes," Vi mutters under her breath.
"What?" Powder asks.
"Nothing," Vi chirps. "And nothing you need to worry about."
"Interesting, ‘cause this card is for the Piltover Rosewood," Powder says, twirling the keycard between her fingers. "Sounds like she's pretty interested in you."
"Your pickpocket phase will haunt me forever," Vi complains, swiping it back from her sister. "Yeah, Caitlyn gave it to me."
"Oooooh, Caitlyn. You finally gonna lose your v-card?"
"Fuck, I mean, maybe," Vi groans. She really doesn’t want to have this conversation with her sister, who definitely has already slept with her boyfriend, even though she’s only 18.
"Maybe you can be her sugar baby," Powder supplies helpfully. "She’s pretty good lookin’ for an old lady, even if she looks a little uptight."
Uptight? Maybe, but she more than made up for it through her confidence. Vi has to admit that Caitlyn looks just like all of the posters of pretty women she fantasized over in her teen years. She’d be stupid to turn her down, even if she’s nervous as fuck.
Vi steels herself with a deep breath. "I’m gonna do it."
"Go slay some pussy, sis! I’m proud of you!"
"Fuck off."
It turns out that the keycard Caitlyn gave her was for the penthouse suite. How much money did this woman have? There was even an attendant to swipe said keycard in the elevator, like she wasn’t capable of doing it herself.
The elevator door opens right into the suite itself, and there Caitlyn is, waiting for Vi, just like she said.
"Violet!" Caitlyn smiles as she greets her. "I’m happy to see you."
Something about the way Caitlyn phrases it makes Vi feel warm inside, as if this is something softer and sweeter than meeting for sex. Vi also thinks she’s probably an idiot for being that excited about someone being happy to see her. Is she really so starved for affection?
"I… I don’t even know where to start." Vi stands just inside the entrance to the suite, overwhelmed by the sheer size of it. Caitlyn is wearing silky little sleep shorts that show off her long legs, and a tank top that dips dangerously low on her chest. Should Vi take her shoes off? "I almost expected you to be wearing leather."
"Ah, that’s for later, darling," she says easily, brushing off Vi’s joke with an oddly serious tone and guiding her to sit on the leather sofa. The Piltover skyline makes for a gorgeous backdrop behind them. Caitlyn sits beside her, tucking her legs underneath her and turning to face Vi. "This is all for you. We don't have to do anything you don't want to. We could even just talk."
"About?"
"Your past experiences. Your boundaries. I've been told I'm an excellent listener."
"Not much to talk about," Vi says, running her hand through her undercut nervously. "Always knew I liked girls, but didn’t have the time to do anything about it. Too busy taking care of my family. Money was always tight, and I wanted to make sure that my little sister could get an education."
Vi feels vulnerable telling her sob story, but Caitlyn’s eyes light up. "I assumed you were inexperienced, but truly, nothing?"
"Some sloppy make-out sessions, but that’s about it." Vi exhales, trying to keep the shame at bay. "At a certain point, it just felt like I was… past my expiration date. Everyone expected me to already have experience because of…" Vi motions from head to toe. "I mean, I look like I can win in a fight."
"Can you win in a fight?" Caitlyn asks.
"Of course I can," Vi flexes a bicep and winks, and it makes Caitlyn laugh. The warm feeling of getting that response from this gorgeous older woman emboldens Vi. Maybe she really can do this.
"Do you want to be touched? Hands, mouth, toys?" Caitlyn taps her fingers along her bare thigh as she digs a little deeper. "There are other things to explore beyond that, as well."
Vi mulls it over for a second, her blood running hot at the thought of Caitlyn's hands on her, her head between her thighs, Caitlyn strapped up. "I want to try it all."
"Violet," Caitlyn breathes, her pupils dilated, her expression barely containing her hunger. "I’m going to make you feel so good. Is anything off-limits? Because if not, I’m going to have my way with you until sunrise."
The excitement pours into Vi’s veins, hot and glowing. She’s always viewed her lack of experience as a burden, but the look in the older woman’s eyes is eager, like she’s getting off on the idea of being Vi’s first. Maybe that’s a red flag, but Vi kind of feels like she’s won the lottery.
"I barely know you, but for some reason, I trust you," Vi laughs, a little bashful. "Do your worst, Caitlyn."
Vi isn't sure what she expected—maybe for Caitlyn to jump her bones immediately. But instead, she reaches over with those long fingers, cradling Vi's cheek.
"You're so sweet, darling," Caitlyn croons, rubbing her thumb along the sharp line of Vi's jaw. "I'll take care of you, I promise."
She moves slowly, giving Vi plenty of time to back out, but there's nothing Vi wants more than to feel the lips of this gorgeous woman who smells like bergamot and cedarwood, whose hands are so soft but so steady.
Their lips meet, and it feels nothing like the girls at the bar.
Caitlyn coaxes Vi's mouth open, her blunt fingernails scratching through the short hair of Vi's undercut as she does it. Vi moans, the needy sound perhaps a little embarrassing one kiss in, but Caitlyn's fingertips dig into the corded muscle of her shoulders in response.
Vi surges forward, a little too eager, and Caitlyn pulls back for a moment, her thumb pressed to Vi's bottom lip.
"Let me show you," the older woman says, and Vi doesn't feel admonished as Caitlyn's soft lips work against hers, sucking gently at her lower lip, her tongue dipping into Vi's mouth. Her nerves are alive, her body is hot, and she's so wet even just from kissing Caitlyn like this.
And then Caitlyn wraps her arms around Vi's waist, drawing Vi into her lap.
"Wait, I'll crush you," Vi protests, but Caitlyn is already drawing her in for another kiss.
"I can handle you," Caitlyn says smugly, drawing her knee up firmly against the seam of Vi's jeans before dragging her weight down.
"Oh," Vi gasps into Caitlyn's mouth, her hips rocking into the solid muscle of Cait's bare thigh.
"Mm," Caitlyn hums, her fingers digging into Vi's muscular ass. "Take what you need, sweet girl."
Vi feels like she's operating on pure instinct, her desperation driving her harder against Caitlyn's leg, the woman sucking lightly on her tongue as she does it.
It happens so fast that Vi doesn't even realize she's coming until it's happening, and she can feel the satisfaction in Caitlyn's grin, the shape of her lips curled up against Vi's.
"S-Sorry," Vi apologizes, her pulse still racing as she pants against Caitlyn's neck. "I didn't know I could do that."
Caitlyn's pupils are huge, the blue of her eyes narrowed to a thin ring. "We're just getting started, darling."
Caitlyn can't believe her luck.
It is one thing for her to pick up a younger woman in a bar. In fact, her storied history of doing so would send her mother to a retirement home if she knew how often Caitlyn had done it. It isn't even particularly notable that Vi is a virgin—Caitlyn has been around the block enough to have checked that box before.
But there's something to be said about this sweet, responsive, built little butch in her bed. Caitlyn clocked it the moment she walked into the bar—the way Vi couldn't hold eye contact, the nerves that showed under Caitlyn's unapologetic attention. Vi had every bit of boldness and swagger needed to run a bar, but was frightfully shy when it came to someone openly desiring her.
That type of thing has always been intoxicating to Caitlyn. Taking a shy, nervous little thing and teaching her how good she can feel. Perhaps it's a bit fucked, but she likes what she likes, and the women she has fucked have always been happy to be there.
"Cait," the built little butch in question whines as Caitlyn draws a hot line of kisses down her jawline. "Please."
"Please what, darling?" Caitlyn teases, biting at the gear tattooed on Vi's neck.
Vi lets out a frustrated moan. She doesn't have the words for what she wants. It ratchets Caitlyn even higher.
"Shirt off, and I'll make you feel better," Caitlyn says, cupping Vi between her legs and feeling the damp heat through her boxers. The sudden touch where she needs it most makes Vi falter as she pulls her cropped tank top overhead. She isn't wearing a bra, but Caitlyn already knew that from seeing her nipples perked up under the thin fabric at the bar.
Vi's body is insane. Caitlyn has to swallow the sudden flood of spit in her mouth at the sight of sculpted abs, ripped pecs, and the prettiest tits she's ever seen. How in the world was this girl a virgin?
"Um… is everything okay?" Vi asks, and it's the only reason Caitlyn realizes that she's been caught staring.
"More than okay," Caitlyn continues, her voice thick with desire as she spreads her fingers in a V, capturing Vi's clit through fabric and massaging the hood. Sweet little sounds pour from Vi's scarred lips, her hips rolling into the motion to try and draw more sensation from Caitlyn's fingers. "Have you ever had anything inside you?"
Vi's eyes are a little hazy as she replies, "My fingers."
"Will you show me?"
Vi bites her lower lip, that quake of nerves returning as she nods. Her thumbs tuck underneath the elastic waistband of her boxers so she can pull them down. Strings of wetness connect from her pussy to her thighs, and she flushes like she's embarrassed about it, waiting for Caitlyn's reaction.
If Caitlyn weren't a woman of discipline and self-control, she would already be between Vi's thighs, drinking from the source. Instead, she clamps down on her impulse, her hands smoothing soothingly over Vi's hips. She eyes that dark red tuft of curls, matted down already with slick. "You're so beautiful like this." It isn't a lie—there is something gorgeous about the way Vi wants. "Show me how you like to touch yourself."
"How?" Vi asks, looking perfect on the rumpled bedsheets.
Caitlyn sits up, tugging Vi into her lap. She rests her chin on Vi's shoulder, guiding the younger woman's hand down between her own legs.
"Just like this," Caitlyn encourages. "You don't have to care about how it looks. Just do what feels good, sweet thing."
Vi's tentative fingers move toward the wet mess of her own cunt, spreading slick over her clit before she slides two fingers inside. She thrusts them quickly, vigorously, grinding her palm against her clit. Caitlyn can tell from the way that Vi masturbates that she has only done this in quick, quiet moments—a rare but brief indulgence that she only permits herself when she's alone.
It makes Caitlyn want to spoil her and ruin her at the same time.
Caitlyn touches Vi's wrist, stilling her hand. "Thank you, darling. I'll take it from here."
There is a thrill in it every time—touching a hot, wet cunt. Vi is so swollen and open for her, her hard clit peeking out from its hood, and Caitlyn draws her finger around that sensitive bud, teasing the younger woman.
"Caitlyn," Vi whimpers, and the sound is so good. Caitlyn wants to find out exactly how many sounds Vi can make for her, wants to catalogue them and all the ways Caitlyn can get her to make them.
"Hush," Caitlyn soothes, nipping at Vi's ear. "I'll give you what you want."
And Caitlyn does. She slips her fingers inside Vi, and the wet clench of her makes Caitlyn's pussy throb in response.
"Mm, you take me so well," Caitlyn continues. "Does that feel good?"
"Y-Yes, Caitlyn," Vi moans, her hands reaching up to cling to Caitlyn tightly enough that the veins in her forearms stand out. This muscular woman and her desperation make Caitlyn's head spin.
Caitlyn works her up steadily, the room filling with the wet sounds of Vi's pussy and the gradually louder sounds she pulls from Vi's mouth, until her hips arch off the bed as she comes, spasming wildly around Caitlyn's fingers.
Caitlyn slows her hand, keeping Vi full and kissing her neck all the while.
"Was that good for you?" Caitlyn murmurs, Vi's hips still ticking through the aftershocks.
It takes Vi a long moment to respond, catching her breath and clinging to Caitlyn underneath her.
"Fuck, Cait, I didn't know it could be like that," Vi finally says, her voice raspy.
"It should always be like that." Caitlyn withdraws her fingers to run her hands over Vi's muscular thighs, trailing her fingers over her hipbones and allowing Vi the simplicity of her touch. "Would you like some water?"
"Yes, please," Vi says.
Caitlyn pulls Vi in for a quick kiss before helping her up. Vi looks so delightfully disheveled, her hair a mess, a little indentation in her top lip from biting it when she came, and it takes everything Caitlyn has to leave the room without ravishing her again.
(For now, at least.)
Caitlyn returns with a glass of water, and Vi chugs the whole thing all at once. She places the glass on the bedside table and uses her forearm to wipe water from her mouth in a way that is unfairly attractive. She's still naked, her elbow propped casually on her knee, and Caitlyn's mouth waters at the sight.
She decides it's time for a taste. Her tank top comes off, and she doesn't even take time to enjoy Vi's wide-eyed stare at her breasts before she's on the bed, running her lips softly along Vi's inner thighs.
"You aren't too sensitive for another, are you?" she asks, her breath hot against the wet mess of curls between Vi's legs.
"N-No," Vi gasps, clutching at the sheets as if she's trying to keep herself from dragging Caitlyn closer to her cunt.
Well, Caitlyn can't have that.
Instead, Caitlyn guides those strong hands into her hair, giving a nod of approval. "You can pull it, if you want. Or move me to where it feels best."
Caitlyn draws a long, wet stripe with her tongue over Vi's pussy, her eyes on Vi's face the entire time. Heat blooms in her while she watches the flush spread down Vi's chest.
"But otherwise, I'm going to savor every bit of you," Caitlyn finishes, and she gets to work.
There is nothing better than eating a woman out. Caitlyn loves the taste, the scent, those ripped thighs clenching around her head. She pulls every trick out of the book to see what works for Vi, listening to the fevered pitch of her cries, taking notes for every flick of her tongue that results in a tug of Caitlyn's hair.
Caitlyn is still working her mouth over Vi's cunt when she reaches down, fighting the temptation to brush her thumb against Vi's puckered hole. She knows it's too much, but gods, she wants to feel every inch of this woman. Instead, she slides a finger into Vi's pussy, and feels her gush when she curls it up into her sweet spot.
"Cait!" Vi cries out, and this delightfully sensitive woman comes again.
She wonders if Vi would like her strap, if she would squeal and beg for it even if it were too big. She imagines Vi's cute little asshole filled with one of those gemstone plugs. She envisions those pretty pink nipples clamped, chained to a collar. She hears that sweet, scarred mouth calling her mistress.
"I want to keep you," Caitlyn murmurs, smiling up at her. "Would you like that, Violet?"
Sweaty and content, Vi grins. "Yeah, Cait. I'd like that a lot."