Actions

Work Header

pretty please

Work Text:

The next stop on the tour brings Caitlyn—and by association, Vi—to Piltover, Caitlyn’s hometown. And Caitlyn is nervous . Of course she isn’t telling anyone she’s nervous, but Vi can tell.

 

With 7 years of experience as her bodyguard under her belt, since the release of her very first single, Vi has always been by Caitlyn’s side. 

 

Vi has spent years cataloguing Caitlyn’s facial expressions and subtle body language changes, memorising any and all possible thoughts or feelings in any given scenario, and learning how to appropriately react to each situation. When you’ve known a person that long, you start to pick up on the little things. 

 

When she’s stressed, Caitlyn tends to focus on perfecting tiny details that don’t need to be perfected, making minuscule refinements to things that would go unnoticed to the untrained eye. 

 

Leading up to today, Caitlyn has insisted on changing her entire wardrobe for the show. For one night only. The press release and promotional material for the Piltover concert have advertised the fact, stating something along the lines of wanting the night to be special , or to make it a unique performance for her hometown , for those who watched her grow and helped make her who she is. Blah, blah, blah.

 

But Vi knows Caitlyn’s true feelings towards Piltover, her disdain for its people, and the city as a whole. She’s heard rumours of how Caitlyn was treated by fellow classmates throughout high school and into early adulthood, how alone she felt in between the too tall skyscrapers, too crowded streets.

 

In the run up to the concert, Vi has been keeping Caitlyn company for countless hours while she practices the choreography over and over, insisting every step needs to be perfect. Late enough into the night for the sun to rise low in the sky, early enough that it can still be considered the same day.

 

Vi knows the choreography practice is used as an excuse, something to keep her occupied when Caitlyn didn’t want to fall asleep, couldn’t fall asleep. Deciding to exhaust her body until she can’t continue, often almost dozing off where she stood, leaving Vi with no option but to drive her home, carry her to bed. 

 

Another sign of Caitlyn’s stress reared its ugly head when they were on their flight into Piltover. With Caitlyn seated by the window, her head lulling onto Vi’s shoulder, she tried and failed to get some shut eye. When that didn’t work, she gave up altogether, content to stare out the window from where her head continued to rest on Vi, her hair curtaining her face, shielding her from the watchful eyes of other passengers as they walked by. 

 

Vi didn’t get much rest on the flight either, too focused on observing Caitlyn’s hands, watching nimble fingers twisting and pulling as they fidgeted in her lap, knotting into the fabric of her sweatpants, never once staying still.

 

The final sign came in the venue, earlier in the afternoon, after soundcheck and a quick last minute rehearsal. Despite performing the same set for weeks, Caitlyn liked to get a feel for the space she was scheduled to play in before the concert started.

 

Usually, Caitlyn spends the time before and after rehearsal speaking with her backup dancers, the members of the live band and the technical crew that she’s grown closer to over the duration of the tour.

Today, however, Caitlyn sits in her dressing room alone, save for Vi. She sips on her water, staying hydrated and preparing her vocal cords for tonight, yet to utter a single word all day.

 

Vi knows what Caitlyn needs in these moments is peace and quiet, time to process her own thoughts before she voices her concerns to Vi. But she’s worried, in all the years they’ve known each other, Vi hasn’t seen Caitlyn this worked up or stuck in her head about anything.

 

She opens her mouth to speak, to ask if Caitlyn wants to talk about it, whatever is plaguing her mind but a knock on the door disturbs her before she can get the words out. Her tour manager tells Caitlyn she needs to prepare to go on stage. 

 

On her way out, Caitlyn shoots a small, apologetic smile in her direction, as if she has anything to be sorry for. Vi knows how much this concert means to Caitlyn, of course she’ll be a little nervous, it’s probably nothing to worry about.

 

Vi leaves Caitlyn to get changed into her first outfit of the night, for the hair stylists and makeup artists to finish her stage look.

 

Once the concert starts, Vi is free to do whatever she wants for a couple of hours. Being personal security means there are others who stand at the bottom of the stage, watching the fans and other concertgoers enjoy themselves, making sure they are safe and preventing any potential threats from occurring. Vi’s one and only responsibility is Caitlyn.

 

Sometimes she spends the time taking a short nap, the jetlag and exhaustion quickly catching up on her. 

 

Often she would roam the corridors of the venue, peeking into each and every unlocked room. 

 

Mostly, she raids the mini fridge in Caitlyn’s dressing room, stealing the snacks she knows Caitlyn doesn’t like. Always leaving a bag of blue M&Ms for her.

 

With the knowledge of how much effort Caitlyn put into this show, and how on-edge she’s been about this particular concert in general, Vi decides to watch from the dressing room, the concert displayed live on the TV above the sofa. 

 

As Vi watches the opening performances, she forgets she was ever worried in the first place, Caitlyn is doing great. But knowing Caitlyn may still feel anxious after the concert, Vi tries to pinpoint specific moments she enjoys, tucking them away for later to praise her performance, compliment the little details she knows Caitlyn worked to perfect. She knows Caitlyn will continue to give it her all, she always does.

 

A couple of hours into the show, Vi recognises the concert coming to an end, Caitlyn running backstage to change her outfit one last time for her encore.

 

Deciding it would be pleasant surprise to greet Caitlyn as she comes off stage, Vi makes her way through the maze of never-ending corridors, the roar of the crowd getting louder the closer she gets, Caitlyn’s voice echoing through the halls as she returns for the finale.

 


 

Vi watches from the foot of the metal stairs, waiting for Caitlyn to finish her encore so she can escort her back to their hotel room on the opposite side of the city. The vantage point gives Vi the perfect side view of the stage, not needing to rely on the large LED screens set up for fans at the back of the arena.

 

Vibrant overhead spotlights shine on Caitlyn from all angles, illuminating her as she moves in sync alongside her backup dancers on stage. The metallic silver of her two piece outfit reflects the harsh stage lighting, painting patterns on the ceiling that dance along with her.

 

Vi winces as Caitlyn is raised into the air, lying flat as she’s transported across the stage, singing to the ceiling. Watching this portion of the choreography on stage is different from watching from the corner of the practice room, Vi thinks, it seems more real , like a lot can go wrong. 

 

Without any concern for that, the reaction from the crowd is immediate—deafening cheers cause the floor to vibrate a little beneath Vi’s feet.

 

As she’s lowered to the ground, safely , Caitlyn struts to the opposite side of the stage, closer to the fans in the staggered seated section surrounding the arena. 

 

Caitlyn positively glows on stage, she belongs up there, waving and smiling at her fans. Vi’s heart feels full, thinking of how far Caitlyn has come in recent years, her confidence on stage having grown in leaps and bounds.

 

Caitlyn turns to make her way back to the centre of the stage. Vi offers a small wave as they make eye contact for the first time, Caitlyn only now spotting Vi in the corner, quietly supporting her.

 

Hate it when you leave me unattended

'Cause I miss ya, and I need your love

 

A small smirk makes its way across Caitlyn’s face as she sings, refusing to break eye contact with Vi as she seamlessly transitions to the next part of the choreography. 

 

When my mind is running wild

Could you help me slow it down?

 

Vi’s eyes go wide, comically so, as Caitlyn honest-to-god winks in her direction. Vi, refusing to believe that could be directed at her, frantically looks around to see nobody close by, nobody paying attention to what’s happening on stage, to the inner turmoil in Vi’s head. 

 

Caitlyn’s face breaks into a small, self-satisfied grin, so small that only those with a sharp eye can spot it, as she watches Vi’s panic from the corner of her eye, but her glee at the situation is evident in her voice as she sings.

 

The screen behind Caitlyn gives a larger view of the show she’s putting on, but Vi’s gaze stays trained on the real-life version in front of her. The version where Caitlyn circles her hips, twisting her body in a single rotation.

 

And wow . Vi only now realises how short her skirt really is, hiking up with the movement, and finds that she can’t tear her eyes away from the crease of Caitlyn’s thighs, where the toned muscle of her ass is exposed.

 

Zeroing in on that area in particular, Vi watches more intently than she should, quickly flicking her eyes up to make sure she hasn’t been caught staring.

 

Caitlyn’s body rolls twice, popping her hip in time with the music. Vi’s mouth runs dry, tries to lick some moisture back into her lips, refusing to blink, lest she misses a single second of what’s happening on stage.

 

Put my mind at ease

Pretty please

I need your hands on me

 

Caitlyn looks toward Vi once more as she sings the last line, the wicked glint in her eyes catching the light. Lithe fingers tap her shoulders, chest and hips along to the beat. And god , the things Vi would do to have her hands on Caitlyn. 

 

Vi will admit their relationship hasn’t always been the most professional. They’ve become close friends over the years, spending more time with each other, not needing to use the guise of work as an excuse. Recently, that time together has become more frequent, more intense, Caitlyn more comfortable with the physical contact she used to shy away from, allowing Vi to cuddle in close when they’re alone.

 

But they haven’t crossed that line. No matter how much Vi has wanted to, she values her working relationship with Caitlyn, and can’t risk ruining their friendship.

 

But right now, Vi can’t deny that Caitlyn is crossing some invisible, unspoken boundary, laid it out flat and stomped right across it, not a concern in the world. She’s not sure if Caitlyn is flirting, per say, not in front of all these people. The possibility makes something close to butterflies flutter inside Vi’s stomach.   

 

Vi tears her eyes away from Caitlyn, needing a second to collect her thoughts and try to clear her head. She needs to think of some reason, any reason, that explains the shift in Caitlyn’s behaviour. 

 

Before she can think of one, Vi’s mind comes to a halt as she catches sight of the microphone stand positioned behind Caitlyn, set up by a backup dancer. No no no no no , Vi recognises that microphone stand. 

 

That microphone stand. The bane of her existence. The cause of many sleepless nights after spending the day in Caitlyn’s practice room, never able to watch her directly lest her expressions give away her obvious desire, only able to catch glimpses in the reflection of the mirror.

 

Caitlyn loops around, taking her place behind the stand, securing her microphone in place to leave her hands free. 

 

Vi fists her sweaty palms into the fabric of her slacks. Her throat stings, tight with dryness as she swallows, any hope of moisture returning is long gone, likely leaving around the same time as her rational thought. 

 

When did it get so hot in here? Am I breathing too heavy? Is it obvious? I’m being too obvious, right? Relax your face, Vi, don’t bring any unwanted attention to yourself. Breathe! Don’t forget to breathe. Holy shit .

 

Caitlyn’s hands clasp together around the metal pole, mid-way down, before making their way up, up, up. Slowly. Ever so slowly. 

 

Vi catches Caitlyn’s eye as she glances to the side, almost as if she’s checking to make sure Vi is still watching. As if she could ever take her eyes off Caitlyn for more than a second.

 

Rounding on the microphone stand one more time, Caitlyn cocks her hip to the crowd, showing off more skin than Vi knows what to do with. 

 

Vi is sure the fans are cheering and screaming, but she can’t hear anything over the static filling her head.

 

Caitlyn shoots a sultry look over her shoulder, briefly toward the crowd before returning to Vi. Watching the quick flick downwards to her hands, Vi self-consciously flexes her fingers, tearing them away from where they’re still clutching her pants. She wipes the sweat from her palms once more and wrings her fingers behind her back, hidden where Caitlyn can’t see.

 

Hate it when you leave me unattended

'Cause I miss ya, and I need your love

When my mind is running wild

Could you help me slow it down?

 

Caitlyn unhooks the microphone from the stand once more, moving to the side to stand parallel with the pole.

 

And fuck. If Vi doesn’t have the best, and the worst, view in the entire arena. She doesn’t know where to look as Caitlyn slithers down the pole, hips swaying with the metal trapped between her thighs. 

 

The skin of her waist has been exposed for the entire performance, but Vi is only now noticing. She rolls her knuckles, the desire to touch becoming overwhelming, to dig her fingers in and leave bruises anywhere she can reach.

 

Coming to a stop at the base, Caitlyn moves the pole outward, one hand positioned for leverage, preparing for what’s to come.

 

Put my mind at ease

Trickle down my spine

Oh, you look so pretty, please

Every single night, I need your hands on me

 

Vi holds her breath, standing stock-still, watching


Watching as Caitlyn rolls her core into the pole. Essentially riding the thing in the middle of the stage. It’s obscene. Vi can’t look away, not with Caitlyn in front of her. 

 

Fuck.

 

Vi feels a rush of desire pulse through her body, humming with need at the display on stage. Caitlyn looks back once more as she stands, her lip caught between teeth before she sings out the last few lines of the song. 

 

Unblinking, Vi takes a shaky inhale, filling her lungs and exhaling. She repeats the process, trying to calm herself down. Vi can feel the thrum of pleasure, her body twitching slightly under Caitlyn’s watchful gaze, still looking in her direction. She can’t move, pinned in place by those cerulean eyes.

 

Vi is being too obvious, desire is clouding her judgement, she’s letting herself get carried away by the thought of Caitlyn potentially wanting her. 

 

So what if Caitlyn is flirting with her. On stage. In front of thousands of people. She’s putting on a show for her fans, and Vi happens to be caught in the crossfire. No big deal.

 

Except it is a big deal. Vi doesn’t know if she can stomach the rejection. If Caitlyn comes off stage and tells her it was all a joke, a way to help her get into character for the performance. No. Vi wouldn’t be able to handle that.

 


 

Not waiting for the encore to end, Vi returns to the waiting room, needing space to clear her head. She requested another member of the security team escort Caitlyn back to her waiting room, where she’d likely shower and leave for the hotel with Vi—the same routine as always.

 

Vi takes three large gulps of her water, now room temperature but it’ll suffice, anything to quench her thirst. 

 

Pacing the room, Vi waits. She can’t do anything but wait. It was a stupid idea to come back to the waiting room alone, she’s not able to leave until Caitlyn returns. 

 

Vi takes a seat on the sofa, before moving to stand once more, foot tapping as pulls out her phone to open Twitter.

 

There, at the top of her timeline, is the worst thing Vi could see right now. In full 1080p recorded from the front row, Caitlyn. The final verse of Pretty Please plays through the tinny speakers in Vi’s hand, as the Caitlyn on screen rides the microphone stand, eyes focused somewhere off screen. Only Vi knows that Caitlyn’s gaze was focused on her.

 

Pocketing her phone once more, Vi flicks on the TV, looking for something safe to distract herself with. The weather seems like the most nonchalant option, it gives her something to talk about on the drive to the hotel. Says it’s gonna rain, Cupcake. Smart, smart.

 

A low murmur of voices can be heard through the door, coming from the opposite end of the hallway, getting closer with each passing second. Vi stiffens as she recognises Caitlyn’s voice mingled throughout the chaos. She tries to make herself look relaxed, she really does, but she can feel how hunched her back is, drawn tightly into herself.

 

Vi inhales a final shaky breath, attempting to focus on the TV in front of her as the voices get closer, stopping outside the door. 

 

The door opens and closes with a soft click , the lock turning closed as Caitlyn thanks the staff for their hard work. Inside, the room is quiet save for the sound of quiet puffs of air escaping Caitlyn, likely still trying to catch her breath from the finale of the encore and her goodbye s to the fans. 

 

Vi can feel her presence, the warmth emanating from her body from where she stands, her own back still turned away from the door. She can’t look at Caitlyn, not yet, not when she’s about to do something this stupid. 

 

But Caitlyn wants it too. 

 

No, it was all an act. 

 

Was it?

 

Yes, just part of her stage persona.

 

Turning to face Caitlyn, Vi startles at how close she really is, quiet steps bringing her no more than a few feet away. She continues to make her way forward, eyes dark as she gives Vi a once over, walking her backwards into the sofa. 

 

“Great show as usual, Cupcake.” Vi shoots her two awkward thumbs up, avoiding the elephant in the room. “Should we head back to the hotel? You can g-”

 

Vi stops talking, mouth parted around her words, as a slender finger presses against her lips, effectively shushing her as the backs of her knees hit the edge of the sofa.

 

Using her other hand, Caitlyn gently presses Vi’s shoulder, pushing her into the plush cushions, and climbs into her lap, knees on either side of her thighs.

 

“Tell me to stop.” 

 

Vi’s breath hitches in her throat.

 

“Never.”

 

A single word is all it takes. 

 

Caitlyn surges forward, her intent clear as her eyes lock onto Vi’s lips. With one hand resting on Vi’s neck, thumb skimming along her jawline, Caitlyn’s soft lips meet her own. The action is too gentle in the heat of the moment, too gentle when Vi can feel her pulse jump under Caitlyn’s palm.

 

Vi’s fingers dig into the sofa before moving her hands to rest on Caitlyn’s hips, over the material of her skirt, not wanting to touch, not yet, not without permission. 

 

As if sensing her hesitation, Caitlyn moves one of Vi’s hands onto the small of her back, the silent consent giving Vi confidence to pull Caitlyn closer. Vi moves the other hand to rest on her shoulder, knocking the strap of Caitlyn’s top out of the way with the movement.

 

Caitlyn’s hand rests on Vi’s cheek, thumb stroking along the faint trail of freckles below her eye.

 

“Violet.”

 

Vi flicks her eyes to Caitlyn’s lips, watching how she forms her name, and back to her eyes, only the thinnest ring of blue visible now. 

 

She hums out in question, willing Caitlyn to continue.

 

“I’ve wanted this for so long. I think I’ve gone a bit mad from wanting it—you—for so long.” Caitlyn’s thumb works as she speaks, “And I don’t want to mess this up.”

 

Vi’s heart swells, a wave of relief washing over her knowing Caitlyn feels the same. Pulling Caitlyn forward, Vi presses a soft kiss to her lips, the tenderness welcome in the moment.

 

“We won’t, ‘kay?” 

 

Another kiss.

 

“I want this too. We won’t mess this up, I won’t let us.” Vi takes Caitlyn’s hand away from her face, where it’s still resting, and places a kiss to the pad of her thumb. The inside of her wrist. The inner crease of her elbow. Stopping on the odd freckle as she climbs up and across to her collarbone, where she nips the thin layer of skin, pressing a kiss to soothe the pain.

 

Red blossoms under her lips, tiny blotches around the imprint of her teeth. 

 

“Vi, please.” Caitlyn tries to press further into Vi’s touch, not getting very far as Vi leans back, a teasing smile forming on her lips.

 

Unsatisfied, Caitlyn leans back, trying to unzip her skirt from where she sits. Vi stops her with a soft touch on her wrist.

 

“Keep it on,” Vi tries, fails, to keep the grin out of her voice as she scans the outfit. Caitlyn looks slightly dishevelled, her hair falling out of the soft waves it had been styled in for the encore, a light blush spreading across her face, darkening as Vi’s words sink in. 

 

The thin straps of the top have long since fallen down, Caitlyn’s shoulder bare save for a faint bruise forming where Vi previously nipped, still damp under the fluorescent lights where she tried to soothe the hiss of pain that escaped Caitlyn’s lips. 

 

The material of her skirt bunches over her hips, pushed up and out of the way, allowing Vi a place to rest her hands, grasping onto heated skin. 

 

“Couldn’t take my eyes off you tonight, Cupcake.” Vi drags a knuckle through Caitlyn’s folds, still covered by the black cotton of her underwear. Looking to meet her eyes, Vi finds Caitlyn’s screwed tight, bottom lip trapped between her teeth, barely containing the quiet whisper of a gasp that escapes her as Vi continues her path, up and down. 

 

“Please, Vi.” Caitlyn’s eyes flutter open, her hips twitching upward, pushing toward Vi’s knuckle.

 

Please what, Cupcake?” Vi’s touch gets lighter, wanting–no– needing to hear Caitlyn tell her what she wants. “Tell me what you like, how to please you. Tell me how I can make you come.”

 

Vi startles slightly as Caitlyn’s icy fingers wrap around her wrist, always cold despite the heat radiating from the rest of her body, trying to push her hand further. Vi relents, allowing Caitlyn a brief moment of pleasure as she circles her thumb around her clit, still over the black fabric, before removing her hand completely, resting at the apex of her thigh, thumb hovering, taunting.

 

“C’mon, Caitlyn, tell me.” 

 

Caitlyn’s moan startles them both, the use of her name bringing something out of her. A fire appears to light behind her eyes, her back straightening.

 

“Anything, Vi. If it’s you, anything .” The last word comes out almost as a whisper, Caitlyn’s words dying on her lips as she meets Vi’s eyes.

 

And oh . How did she not see it before, when it’s staring right back at her. They’ve wasted much time, so many opportunities for more have slipped through their fingers.

 

Vi’s gaze softens, body relaxing into the sofa, sinking deeper under Caitlyn’s weight. 

 

“Okay, Cupcake.” With shaky hands, Vi manages to unzip the back of Caitlyn’s top, allowing the fabric to fall to the floor. “I’ve got you.”

 

Slender fingers thread through her hair, settling deep into the roots, as Vi takes a nipple in her mouth, lightly grazing her teeth along the nub, causing goosebumps to erupt on Caitlyn’s skin. With her free hand, she tweaks the other, taking the piercing between her thumb and forefinger, twisting lightly.

 

Caitlyn arches into the touch, further into Vi’s mouth. Vi glances up to find Caitlyn’s eyes closed, grip tightening as Vi’s tongue swirls around the peak, pebbled in the cool air of the room.

 

Vi pulls back with a wet pop , Caitlyn’s chest swollen and spit-shiny. 

 

Slipping her hands under the skirt, Vi tugs on Caitlyn’s underwear, encouraging her to wiggle out of them. Standing, with a hand on Vi’s shoulder to steady herself, Caitlyn steps out of the black cotton, kicking the material off to the side, leaving herself completely bare under the short skirt.

 

Moving to reposition herself on the sofa, Vi leans back, balancing on one elbow. She bends to grip the back of Caitlyn’s thigh, fingers digging in slightly harder than she intends, enough to leave a bruise. 

 

Vi smirks as understanding flashes across Caitlyn’s eyes, recognising what Vi wants from her. 

 

Caitlyn’s knees move into position on either side of Vi’s waist, nudging herself upwards, crawling one step at a time until she’s hovering at shoulder level.

 

Vi licks her lips, meeting Caitlyn’s eyes as she looks down. “‘s this okay?”

 

“It’s been a while,” Caitlyn admits, running her hand through Vi’s hair, settling in the pink roots.

 

One swift motion is all it takes for Vi to unzip the skirt, allowing her to easily remove it from around Caitlyn’s waist. She drops it in a heap on the floor, a concern for later. That’s not important right now.

 

“Is this okay, Cait?” Vi wants, no, needs to hear her answer.

 

“Please.” Caitlyn visibly swallows. The hand in Vi’s hair tightens as the other moves to steady herself against the wall. Caitlyn’s fingers scratch lightly against the concrete as if she’s trying to mirror the movement in Vi’s hair. “Need you.”

 

“That’s not what I asked, Cupcake.” Vi slides down ever so slightly, the distance between herself and Caitlyn vanishing. Craning her neck, Vi nips along the sensitive skin of Caitlyn’s inner thighs, red marks blossoming in her wake. Caitlyn stills at the action. 

 

“Is—”

 

Nip.

 

“This—” 

 

Nip.  

 

“Okay?” 

 

Nip.

 

Caitlyn’s breaths return in short pants, her eyes blown wide as she watches. Thighs attempting to rock down into Vi’s mouth. With her hands on Caitlyn’s hips, Vi stops the movement before it happens.

 

“Yes— fuck —Vi. Anything, please.”

 

Vi hums to herself, pleased, “Good girl.”

 

Finally, finally , Vi moves her hands to the meat of Caitlyn’s thighs, drawing her down to meet her mouth. 

 

Vi dips her tongue between Caitlyn’s folds, relishing in the gasp Caitlyn lets out at the sudden motion. The gasp breaks off into a low groan as Vi runs her tongue from Caitlyn’s entrance to her clit, sucking it between her lips.

 

Humming around her clit, Vi feels Caitlyn’s thighs tremble around her ears. 

 

Caitlyn’s hand, the one previously holding onto the wall, settles on top of Vi’s, turning it to thread their fingers together. Caitlyn’s other hand remains entangled in her hair, while their now joined hands are pressed by Vi’s head, essentially pinning her to the sofa.

 

Their new positioning seems to give Caitlyn extra leverage, allowing her to control her movements, rocking her cunt onto Vi’s tongue in a way that gives her the most pleasure. Vi remains still, happy to let Caitlyn dictate the pace for the time being. 

 

With the hand resting in the crease of Caitlyn’s thigh, Vi stretches her fingers to run through the slick skin surrounding her entrance, feeling a subtle shiver at the action. 

 

Reluctantly letting go of her thigh, Vi pushes two fingers inside Caitlyn’s cunt, crooking as much as the angle allows. As she begins to thrust her fingers, Caitlyn ceases her movements, spreading her thighs as much as she can on the small space of the sofa cushion.

 

“‘m close–so, so–” Caitlyn’s lips part in a silent moan. Vi watches as she starts to fall apart on her tongue and fingers, teeth clamping onto her lower lip in an effort to silence herself. “P-plea– shit .”

 

Vi flattens her tongue over Caitlyn’s clit, the glide smooth with how wet she’s gotten, before reluctantly pulling herself away, retracting her fingers to trace wet patterns along Caitlyn’s inner thigh.

 

Her face is surely flushed from the heat radiating off Caitlyn’s skin, she can feel the sweat lining her hairline, beading on her neck. Vi’s chest rises and falls with the exertion, allowing herself a moment to catch her breath.

 

She teases Caitlyn’s clit between her lips, once, twice, grinning as Cailtyn’s hips stutter, trying to chase the feeling.

 

“G’na come for me, Cait?” 

 

Above her, Caitlyn huffs a breath of air through her nose. 

 

“I was. Before you pulled away, rudely, I mi-” Her voice is lost to a high-pitched keen, Vi silencing her banter with her warm tongue sinking into her cunt. Vi raises an eyebrow teasingly in her direction, but it’s missed when Caitlyn throws her head back, groaning lowly in her chest.

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. ” Caitlyn begins to ride her face, her fingers creaking in the fabric of the sofa, “Right there, yes–Vi, right– shit –right there. You’re so good– fuck your tongue, s-so good. More, plea-please. Coming, com- oh my god, I’m comin’, fuck .”

 

Caitlyn rambles her way through her orgasm, losing all coherency as her rhythm stutters and comes to a halt. Vi eagerly laps up the wet gush that floods her tongue, licking away any that threatens to drip down her thighs.

 

Vi hums in satisfaction, licking her lips. She moves Caitlyn, who remains frozen from her peak, to sit back on her stomach. Her bare cunt will leave a patch of wetness on her shirt, but Vi doesn’t mind, she can cover it with her jacket on the way out.

 

“You good, Cupcake?” 

 

Caitlyn’s eyes flutter open, blinking herself into awareness. Vi watches fondly as she slowly nods, a faint smile on her face. 

 

“Alright, let's get you back to the hotel.” Vi pats her thigh but doesn’t make a move to get up, not before Caitlyn is ready.

 

“‘Kay, but when we get there, it’s your turn.” 

 


 

The bed in Caitlyn’s hotel suite is large enough for 4 other people to rest with enough space left over, but Vi insists on holding Caitlyn close, legs intertwined on the soft sheets. 

 

Vi lets her fingers run along the bare skin of Caitlyn’s shoulder in mindless patterns, tickling gently. Caitlyn’s hand is resting on Vi’s stomach, thumb tapping lightly to a silent beat.

 

Warmed from the shower, Vi is content to lie with Caitlyn under the golden glow of the bedside lamp, listening to the rain hitting the window.

 

Caitlyn interrupts the silence to speak first.

 

“I meant it, you know?”

 

“Hm?” Vi glances down to Caitlyn, to where her head is resting on her shoulder, to find her already looking back. There’s a light flush on her cheeks, could be from her own shower, or something else entirely, Vi isn’t sure.

 

“What I said earlier. About me wanting you.” Caitlyn looks off to the side before continuing, “For a long time.”

 

Vi wills the blush to not rise on her cheeks, her heartbeat stuttering at the confession. “Yeah? Me too.” 

 

Caitlyn’s smile is blindingly bright, all teeth in the cutest way possible. “Yeah? Guess we’ve both been a bit stupid then.”

 

“More than a bit.” Vi plants a kiss to the crown of Caitlyn’s head, “Gonna have to make up for all that lost time somehow.”

 

Caitlyn hums to herself, mischievous, turning to lie prone in Vi’s arms. “I’ve got a few ideas.”