Pairing: Sugar Mommies Cait & Vi x Sugar Baby Reader
Words: 4860
Synopsis: Life keeps on moving on your break with Cait and Vi
Warnings: Cait and Vi miss us 🥺
“Are you sure I can afford this place?”
Mel scoffed as she strolled through the apartment, hands in her coat pockets, her red-soled heels echoing through the unfurnished space. “Angel, you could afford somewhere twice as nice as this. In fact, why don’t you?”
You shrugged. “All I need is a one-bed, one-bath,” you replied, following your friend through the kitchen – that was separate from the living space! – and into the living room. “I’d actually be splurging if I took this two-bed. Plus, I won’t be here for that long.”
“Well, if you’re not planning on being here long, why are you even looking?” she queried. “Why not just stay with me? I’ve got the room, and you know you’re more than welcome to stay for as long as you like. I’ve loved having my sister around.”
The realtor gave a sneaky glance between the two of you, given how you looked nothing alike.
Mel caught her looking, and answered with a cheeky smile, “She’s adopted.”
The realtor ducked her head in an embarrassed blush.
“I’ve loved being with you too,” you smiled back genuinely. “But I need my own space. I want to do some art, some dance, you’ve talked me into trying more yoga… I don’t want to take up more room in your apartment, it’s yours.”
Mel hummed lightly, not entirely believing you. “And it’s not because you think this is something you have to do?”
You shook your head, taking in the views out of the large windows in the living room. They weren’t floor-to-ceiling like the ones in the penthouse, but they let in infinitely more light than the one tiny window in your old apartment did.
“No. No, I’d like my own space for a bit.”
“Before you go back to them?” Mel tested the waters.
But you nodded easily. “Yeah.”
She came to stand beside you, both of you looking out over the nearby park.
“How’s that going?”
“Being apart?”
“The whole thing.”
You nodded again. “It’s good.”
“You’re all following the rules?”
“Uh-huh. Vi kept texting in the beginning, but she stopped after a few days.”
Mel smirked knowingly. “Her Wife probably chewed her out, not wanting to scare you off.”
“It wasn’t scaring me off,” you denied. “But it wasn’t following the rules we set, so I did tell her.”
Your friend’s head shot around to look at you in amazement. “You told Vi to stop texting you?”
“Well, yeah. We agreed to the rules. She needs to follow them.”
Mel’s jaw almost dropped. “Wow.”
You frowned. “What?”
“I’m…” She shook her head with a smile. “I’m just stunned. You actually told Vi not to text you.”
“Boundaries are important.”
“Is that what What’s-Her-Name said?”
“Elora.” You nodded. “Yeah, she agreed I did the right thing by telling Vi that.”
“And how’s therapy going with her? Is she good?”
The realtor cleared her throat from across the room. “Sorry, ladies. I don’t mean to rush, but we don’t have much long left here. How are we feeling about the apartment? We have lots of other options if you’re not keen.”
Mel smiled at you. “Y/N?”
You glanced back down at the listing in your hands. “How much was the rent again?”
“$4,500 a month, and they’ll need the first two months up-front.”
Your body instinctively twisted at that amount. Your old apartment – whilst being an absolute and undeniable shithole in a seedy part of the city – was only $700 a month. The difference in costs unnerved you, and you shifted a little.
Mel caught it. Leaning in to whisper in your ear, she asked, “How much is in your account right now?”
“Well…”
“Is it a six-digit number?”
You nodded discreetly.
“Does it start with a one? Two, three, four?”
“Four,” you admitted.
Mel started doing the maths in her head. “So, four divided by 4,500… Divided by 12 months… Angel, you could live here for seven years.”
“Plus living expenses!”
“Alright, then: six years. Do you like this place?”
You looked around the bright, welcoming space again. “Yes.”
“Then take it. As you said, you won’t be here long anyway.”
You nodded more vigorously, knowing she was right. You took a step towards the realtor. “What’s the shortest lease available?”
“Minimum is six months, but you can break it for a fee.”
You were certain you wouldn’t be there in six months’ time, but you nodded again. “I’ll take it.”
The second Sunday arrived much faster than any of you had expected.
For you, the first week had disappeared in a blur of quiet mornings in Mel’s spare bedroom, long walks through parks you had never really noticed before, and an exhausting amount of thinking. You’d also started seeing a therapist Ambessa had recommended, and had two appointments with her. After catching her up on the essentials of your current situation, Elora had gently encouraged you not to spend every waking moment analysing your feelings, reminding you that healing couldn’t be rushed.
So you tried to fill your days with ordinary things instead. You read books you had been meaning to start for months; cooked dinner with Mel on the evenings she wasn’t out with clients; started working with Mel’s personal trainer four mornings a week – an absolute machine of a woman called Sevika; and had followed your friend’s advice to start doing yoga workouts at home too.
You and Mel had spent an afternoon shopping together, and you’d found yourself instinctively reaching for your phone more than once to send Cait and Vi pictures of cute dresses you liked, before remembering you had all agreed not to message each other.
For Cait and Vi, the week had been… Quieter.
The penthouse, despite being exactly the same size as it had always been, somehow felt much larger without you wandering between the rooms. There was nobody humming quietly while folding laundry, nobody curled up beneath a blanket on the sofa watching terrible reality television, nobody appearing beside them in the kitchen asking whether they wanted another cup of tea.
It wasn’t empty; it just wasn’t home in quite the same way.
Both women had respected every boundary you had asked for. They hadn’t messaged at all, except to confirm they were available for the weekly Sunday calls. They’d even resisted every temptation to ask Mel or Ambessa how you were coping, knowing you deserved the privacy you’d requested.
That didn’t stop them wondering, constantly.
So when the second Sunday evening finally arrived, both Cait and Vi found themselves sitting together on the living room sofa nearly fifteen minutes before the agreed time to call.
Vi looked down at her phone for what must have been the twentieth time in as many minutes. “We’re early.”
Cait glanced at the clock. “We are.”
“We could call now.”
“We said nine.”
“It’s 8:57.”
Cait shook her head, emphasising, “We said nine, Violet.”
Vi sighed dramatically, slumping further into the cushions. “I hate being patient.”
Cait reached across and squeezed her hand. “I know, darling.”
“I keep wondering whether she’s okay.”
“I know.”
“I miss her.”
Cait smiled sadly. “I know. I do too. Desperately.”
The admission came so quietly that it almost disappeared beneath the hum of the city outside.
“I keep expecting to hear her in the kitchen.”
Vi nodded. “I stared at her toothbrush for a whole minute last night.”
Cait’s expression softened. “Really, darling?”
Before Vi could respond, her phone buzzed.
Video call from 🩷Y/N🩷
Both women straightened simultaneously.
Vi answered so quickly she nearly dropped the phone.
The screen flickered, then you appeared.
You sat cross-legged on… They didn’t know where you were… Wearing an oversized cream jumper with your hair still slightly damp from a shower. You smiled the moment you saw them, though it was smaller than the smiles you were all used to sharing.
“Hi.”
The single word somehow made the entire penthouse feel warmer.
“There she is,” Vi breathed, unable to stop herself smiling. She looked at you as if you were her only supply of sunshine, and it cracked your heart a little.
You laughed softly. “Has it been a long week?”
“It’s been so fucking long.”
“It has,” Cait admitted gently.
For a few moments, none of you seemed entirely certain how to proceed. The conversation wasn’t uncomfortable exactly. Just… Hesitant.
Three people trying to rediscover a rhythm that had suddenly become unfamiliar.
Normally if you were with them, by this point Vi would have kissed your forehead in greeting, Cait would have asked how your day had been while putting the kettle on, and you would already have been teasing Vi about whatever ridiculous thing she’d done that afternoon.
Instead, there was a screen between you all, a carefulness that hadn’t existed since the early days of your Sugaring arrangement.
You rubbed absentmindedly at the sleeve of your jumper. “So…”
Vi immediately laughed. “So…”
Cait smiled despite herself. “I suspect we’re all trying not to make this awkward.”
“It’s working brilliantly,” you joked dryly.
Vi snorted as she rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, we’re doing great.”
That finally broke the ice.
You laughed properly this time, and hearing the familiar sound seemed to relax the two of them instantly.
“Darling, where are you?” Cait asked, looking around at the blank wall behind you.
Your face lit up, but you blushed. “I got my own place this week. Just a short-term lease!” you quickly reassured when you visibly saw their hearts break.
“Your own place?” Vi asked, a little quietly. Out of sight of the camera, she started squeezing her knuckles together.
“Yeah, just a six-month lease. But I don’t plan on being here that long,” you smiled at them.
Hearing you say that made them noticeably relax, as if you’d just lifted a great weight off their shoulders.
“Mel was obviously happy to let me stay for as long as I wanted, but I felt a little under her feet. You know? And this place has a spare bedroom, so I’m going to start doing more art. Dance a little, follow some yoga videos…”
Vi nodded, stretching her hands nervously. “Can you show us?”
“Vi,” Cait whispered softly in her ear, not wanting to push you too far.
“Sure!” you replied cheerfully.
You picked your phone up, switching to the front-facing camera. “So this is my bedroom,” you said softly, slowly panning the camera around the rather-empty room. It was quite spacious, with soft cream carpeting and off-white walls. “I’ve ordered some furniture; that’s going to be delivered tomorrow, and Mel talked me into paying for assembly too. In the past I always just built my own stuff, but now I don’t have to.”
“What kind of furniture have you ordered?” Cait asked as the camera moved forward towards the en-suite bathroom.
“Oh, right!” You turned back around to show the empty room. They realised that you didn’t even have a bed, you’d just put a mattress on the floor. “Obviously the bed frame, I went for an ottoman frame so it’s got storage underneath. Matching bedside tables that have got some drawers. A big dresser that’s going to go against that wall. And there’s going to be a huge wardrobe with sliding doors over here. I might add a little vanity table too, if I want to be cute? But I might just leave it.”
“Your nails look really nice, baby,” Vi interrupted gently, looking and sounding like a sad puppy.
You straightened your hand in front of the camera, displaying your new pastel set. “Thanks! I asked them to add some little flowers too. You see them?”
Cait cooed, “Very pretty, darling.”
“Thank you,” you beamed back, but they couldn’t see your face. “So this is the en-suite.”
You quickly showed them around the bathroom, rambling on about the shiny fittings and how nice the bath was. They listened the whole time, just soaking in your voice and how happy you seemed in your new place.
It did comfort them, though, to hear you keep mentioning that you weren’t staying long, and that you hoped it wouldn’t be too expensive to break the six-month lease agreement.
Vi held in her comment about how they could pay the fee for you, knowing that the rules for this break prohibited them from doing so.
You walked them around the kitchen and living room, going on about the furniture you’d ordered and plants you were going to get.
“Have you cooked your first meal there, sweetheart?” Cait asked, sipping her wine.
“Not yet. I’ve just had some takeout. This is only my second night here. I’ll do a proper grocery shop and get cookware tomorrow.” You flipped the camera back to your face, watching in amusement how they both perked up on seeing you again. “Do you want to see anything else?”
Vi shook her head. “No, baby, head back to your bedroom. If you want,” she added quickly.
You giggled softly at her tone and returned to your sparsely furnished bedroom, sitting down on your mattress.
“So,” Cait said, settling more comfortably against their sofa, “How has your week been?”
You considered the question. “Odd, overall.”
“Good odd?”
“I don’t know.” You smiled sheepishly. “I keep reaching for my phone because I see something funny and want to send it to you.”
Vi’s face lit up. “I keep doing that too!”
You blushed. “You do?”
“So many times. I have a folder.”
“A folder?”
“Of memes.”
You stared. “You’ve been saving memes to show me?”
Cait pinched the bridge of her nose, “So many memes. There are forty-three.”
You burst into laughter. “There are not.”
“There are.” Vi looked unapologetic. “I figured I’d show you all of them once you come back.”
You laughed so hard you had to wipe your eyes. “You’ve made me a meme dowry?”
Vi nodded thoughtfully. “I also have eight videos of cute dogs.”
You covered your face. “I’ve missed you.”
Her grin softened. “We’ve missed you too, sweetheart.”
The words settled quietly between you all. None of you tried to rush past them.
Eventually Cait spoke. “And therapy?”
You nodded. “It’s good.”
“Do you like your therapist? What’s their name?”
“Elora. And yeah, I really do.” A thoughtful smile crossed your face. “She’s annoyingly good at asking questions.”
Cait’s eyebrow lifted. “Annoying?”
“I’ll think I’ve addressed something and worked through it, and then she’ll ask one question, and suddenly I’ve burst into tears.”
Vi winced. “That sounds awful.”
“It is.” Then you smiled. “But it’s helping.”
Cait’s shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly. “I’m glad, darling.”
For a while, you all simply talked. Nothing particularly important. Mel’s latest attempts at teaching you to make ‘proper’ cocktails. A project Cait was working on at work. Vi trying a new routine in the gym.
As the conversation drifted into a comfortable lull, you found yourself simply looking at them. Really looking.
You noticed the tiredness behind Cait’s eyes. The way Vi absentmindedly kept touching the empty space beside her on the sofa… Clearly where you should have been.
Neither woman complained, neither woman asked you to come home, neither woman hinted that the separation had gone on long enough.
They simply accepted where you were, even though you could see how much they missed you.
“I...” you hesitated.
Both women immediately looked up.
“I just wanted to say...” You searched for the right words. “Thank you.”
Vi frowned. “What for?”
“For respecting this,” you said quietly. “I know it probably doesn’t make much sense.”
“It doesn’t,” Vi admitted honestly. “But that’s okay.”
Cait nodded in agreement. “We don’t need to understand every feeling you have in order to respect it.”
You felt something tighten painfully in your chest. “I was worried you’d think I was running away.”
Vi exchanged a glance with Cait before looking back at the screen.
“We think you’re trying very hard.”
Cait leaned slightly closer to the camera. “We miss you.” Another gentle pause. “The penthouse misses you.”
Vi nodded vigorously. “I walked into the kitchen yesterday and actually got sad because nobody had rearranged the dishwasher.”
You blinked, then laughed. “I reorganise your dishwasher?”
Vi gave you a look. “Baby, you reorganised almost everything.”
“You alphabetised the spice rack,” Cait added.
“You rearranged the wine rack by name and then year,” Vi continued.
Cait smirked, “You somehow convinced us that towels needed to be folded differently.”
You stared back, blushing. “I did do that.”
The three of you laughed together.
The sound felt normal. Wonderfully, beautifully normal.
Eventually, the clock crept towards 10:30, and you let out a quiet yawn before you could stop it.
Vi noticed immediately. “You’re tired.”
You nodded. “It’s been a long week.”
Cait smiled warmly. “Then we’ll let you rest.”
None of you wanted to end the call.
You all lingered for another few minutes, talking about nothing in particular, each one reluctant to be the first to say goodbye.
Finally, you smiled softly. “I’ll see you next Sunday?”
“You will,” Cait replied.
“Definitely,” Vi agreed.
You hesitated for just a heartbeat before lifting your hand towards the camera in a small wave. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, darling,” Cait said gently.
“Night, baby.”
The screen went dark.
For several seconds, Cait and Vi simply sat there looking at their own reflections.
Then Vi quietly set the phone down on the coffee table and leaned her head against Cait’s shoulder. “I feel better,” she whispered.
Cait intertwined their fingers. “So do I.”
Neither of them had realised just how much they’d needed to see you smile.
Even if it had only been through a screen.
Elora’s office had become familiar and comforting over the past few weeks. It was comfortably furnished rather than clinical, with bookshelves lining one wall, leafy plants occupying the corners and windowsill, and an armchair and sofa positioned at a slight angle rather than directly opposite one another.
When you had first started therapy after everything had happened, you had dreaded your first appointment. The thought of sitting with a stranger and talking about the mess inside your head had seemed unbearable. You had expected judgement, clinical questions, awkward silences, or someone trying to ‘fix’ you.
Instead, you’d found Elora.
A woman slightly older than Cait and Vi, who was kind without ever being patronising; insightful without pretending she knew you better than you knew yourself; patient enough to let silences exist when they needed to.
She never rushed you. She never filled every quiet moment with advice. More often than not, she simply asked the right question, then allowed you to arrive at your own answer.
It had made therapy feel… Safe.
That afternoon, however, you had barely managed to settle onto the familiar sofa before Elora noticed something was different.
The therapist smiled warmly as she crossed one leg over the other, her notebook resting open in her lap. “You’ve brought something heavy with you today.”
You looked up from arranging your skirt over your thighs, surprised. “I have?”
Elora nodded gently. “Well, we usually spend the first few minutes chatting about how our weeks were, or you telling me about something Mel did that made you laugh.” A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Today you’ve barely looked at me,” she accused with a playful wave of her pen.
You hadn’t even realised. You sighed and rubbed absentmindedly at the sleeve of your jumper. “I have been thinking,” you admitted.
Elora’s voice remained warm. “I gathered. What have you been thinking about?”
For several moments, you simply stared at the rug between you. You had rehearsed this conversation in your head on the drive over.
Now that you actually had to say it aloud…
It sounded childish, and petty.
You almost decided not to mention it at all.
“It’s about Cait and Vi.”
Elora nodded. “Okay.”
“I don’t really know how I feel about something, and it’s weighing on me.”
“You don’t have to know for sure before we can talk about it. What do you think you’re feeling?”
You considered the question carefully, then let out a small breath through your nose. “… Hurt.”
The word surprised you with how true it felt.
“Hurt,” Elora repeated softly.
You nodded. “I know they didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You say that quite confidently.”
“I mean it. They genuinely didn’t know Maddie and I were together when they were. I can’t be angry at them for it; it wasn’t their fault.”
Elora nodded once.
“So logically…” you grimaced a little, “They didn’t betray me.”
“No.”
“They didn’t cheat.”
“No.”
Elora watched you quietly.
You swallowed. “So, if they haven’t done anything wrong, why does it still hurt?”
The question lingered between you.
Elora didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she leaned back slightly. “Tell me what hurts.”
You frowned. “I just did.”
But your therapist shook her head, squinting at you. “I don’t think you did.”
Silence.
“I think you told me what didn’t hurt.”
You blinked.
Elora smiled gently. “You’ve spent the last minute defending Cait and Vi. Now I’d like to hear about what you’re thinking.”
You looked back down at your hands, your thumbs brushing together nervously.
For a long while, neither of you spoke.
Then, very quietly, you began. “A few months into being their Sugar Baby, they asked me to be exclusive.”
Elora nodded. “I remember.”
“And I was so excited. I wanted to say yes immediately, but I asked Mel for advice on the amended contract, because of her experience.”
She jotted a few notes, then prompted, “What did saying yes mean to you?”
You answered without thinking. “That it meant I was special.”
The words escaped before you could stop them.
You stared at the floor. “I know how stupid that sounds.”
“It doesn’t sound stupid.”
“It does.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Elora’s voice remained wonderfully calm, even as she firmly corrected your negative self-talk. “It sounds human.”
You felt tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. “I knew they had other arrangements before me. That never bothered me. It actually felt nice; knowing they had experience, and could lead the way a bit.”
“So, this isn’t about knowing they had previous Sugar Babies.”
“No.”
Elora made a few more notes. “What is it about, would you say?”
You took a shaky breath. “I think I built a story in my head. When they asked me to be exclusive, I thought it meant I was different.”
The confession hurt.
“I thought that although there’d been Babies before me, I was the one they wanted to keep.” Your eyes filled. “I thought I was the first person they’d wanted like that.”
Elora nodded almost imperceptibly. “And then?”
You closed your eyes. “Then Maddie happened.”
The room became very still.
“I found out they’d asked her to be exclusive too.” A tear escaped despite your best efforts. “They’d done it before. So suddenly…” you looked helplessly at Elora. “I wasn’t special anymore.”
The therapist jotted a few notes, then tapped her pen a few times. “Let’s imagine, for a moment, that Cait and Vi had never met Maddie.”
You nodded along with her words as she spoke.
“They meet you, and they ask you to be exclusive. You feel… Chosen?”
“Yes.”
“Okay… Now imagine they had met Maddie.”
Your shoulders tensed against your will.
“They were exclusive; they broke up; then Cait and Vi meet you, and ask you to be exclusive.”
You looked confused. “… That’s what happened.”
Elora smiled. “Yes, it is. So, tell me: what changed about you between those two versions?”
You opened your mouth.
Nothing came out.
You tried again. “Nothing.”
“Exactly.” Elora let the answer settle for a second. “You are exactly the same woman in both scenarios. The only thing that changes is information you didn’t previously have. But your brain has treated that new information as though it travelled back in time and changed who you were.”
You frowned. You tried to refuse, “No, I-”
“You weren’t less kind, or less funny, or less gentle. You weren’t less worthy of being loved. The only thing that changed was your understanding of Cait and Vi’s past.”
You sat very still. “I… I never thought about it like that.”
“I know.” Elora smiled. “Our minds are very good at rewriting history, especially yours.”
Your eyes drifted toward the window. “I think...” You swallowed. “I think I wanted to be their first.”
The admission surprised even you.
“The first Baby they’d want forever. To be special to them.”
Silence settled between you.
Eventually Elora spoke. “I don’t think…” She seemed to choose her next words carefully. “… You’re truly talking about exclusivity.”
You frowned. “What do you mean?”
She leaned forward slightly. “When you use the word ‘special’, what I think you mean is ‘unique’.”
Your breathing caught. “… Yeah.”
Elora shook her head. “Those aren’t quite the same thing.”
“I don’t understand?”
“You believed you were the first person they liked enough to ask for exclusivity.”
“Yes.”
“And discovering that that wasn’t true, hurt you.”
You blinked a few times. “Yes.”
“But tell me...” Elora tilted her head slightly. “Are you the first woman either of them has ever fallen in love with?”
You blinked. “Obviously not; they’re married.”
“Does that make their love for you less real?”
“No.”
She thought of another example. “Are you… The first woman Cait ever kissed?”
You actually smiled. “No.”
“What about the first person Vi was ever intimate with?”
“No.”
Elora smiled gently. “Would you say you are replaceable to them?”
You answered immediately and firmly, “No.” You paused. “No. I’m not replaceable to them. One…” You had to take a deep breath. “One similarity between their relationship with Maddie, and our relationship doesn’t mean I’m not special to them.”
Your therapist let you sit with that understanding for a few seconds, just smiling patiently.
You laughed through your tears, wiping at your face with the sleeve of your jumper. “How did that take me six weeks to work that out?!”
“Mel!”
“Hi, angel,” she greeted over the phone with an audible smile. “How are-?”
“I’m about to do something kind of crazy, so talk me out of it!”
“Never. What is it, my love?”
You took a deep breath, still giggling as you ran across the road, almost skipping with a manic energy. “I’m gonna dye my hair pink!”
Her client stirred next to her in bed, tightening his arm around her waist. “I love it. Do it immediately. How long will it take? We can meet for a sweet treat afterwards.”
“Mel!” you laughed. “You’re supposed to talk me out of it!”
She just laughed back at you as her date kissed her neck. “Why on earth would I do that? You love pink; you’ve always loved pink. And you’ve wanted to dye your hair for years now, but could never afford to. Plus, it’s been three months since your pause with Cait and Vi – I’m honestly surprised it’s taken you this long to dye your hair. So… Do. It. What shade are you thinking?”
“Bright! Neon! I wanna glow in the dark!” You hurried down the road, heading to the salon.
“Fantastic. I want to see you after, okay? Tell me when you’re done, and we’ll meet up somewhere. … Alright?” she prompted when she didn’t get a response.
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I just arrived. Yes, I’ll text you.”
“Okay, angel. Have fun! I love you.”
“I love you too!” You put the phone down, grinning apologetically at the hair stylist you were about to torment – unintentionally – for the next few hours. “Pink, please!”
Just after lunchtime, Mel sat with her back to the door in the expensive café. She typed away on her phone as she waited for you, messaging one of her favourite clients.
You entered the establishment, saw your friend, and decided to sneak up on her for fun. You tiptoed over to her, tapping her shoulder gently.
She glanced over her shoulder, and paused. She blinked, then forced a smile on her face. “Hi, angel. You did go for the pink, I see?”
You grinned widely, sitting down in the chair opposite her. You brought your hair forward, lightly combing your fingers through the newly-coloured length. “Do you like it? I love it! It’s perfect!”
Mel put her phone down, leaning forward on her crossed arms, taking in your hair. “Yes, yes… It, uh… Definitely suits you.”
You faltered a little. “What’s wrong? Does it look bad? I know the money pieces are different, but I think the colours go well together.”
She nodded. “Yes, they do. They really do. Those colours are a perfect match for each other. And you’ve… Got both of them.”
You tilted your head, frowning lightly. “Why are you being weird? You told me to dye my hair.”
Mel recovered. “Yes, angel. I did. And you look perfect. You truly do. I just…”
You reached across the table in concern, worried for your friend as you took hold of her hand. “Mel, what is it? What’s wrong?”
She squeezed your hand a few times, then nodded. “I think it’s time, Y/N.”
Dni: right leaning, homophobes, racists, transphobes, abelists, older men, Abby haters, people who "don't care" about politics.
Interact with me if: You're a leftist, apart of the lgbtq+, communist or socialist, alternative, gyaru, lesbian, Abby supporter, tlou fans, anime fans, story game fans, etc.
*rolls into your inbox* heyheyhey!!! I’m a bit sick and loopy so I was wondering if I could get some Dracula from Castlevania taking care of an ill s/o who gets kind of sad and upset when they are sick even if it’s just a bad cold (that’s what I’m going thru right now I just get so scared T^T) anyways, love you Happy Valentine’s Day!!! <3 watching-and-stalking
Awe I hope you feel better soon hun! Happy Valentines Day to you too!
Yandere Dracula
“Darling, please go back to bed. You need your rest,” Dracula’s voice rumbled through the dark hallway.
You stopped midstep. Damnit, you thought to yourself. Of course he’d catch you. He had eyes and ears everywhere in the castle, it was no surprise that he’d discover your absence from your prison bedroom. But you didn’t think he’d catch on so quickly. You glance around in the dimly lit hallway, still unable to pinpoint his location. The pressure in your head was already making it hard to sense your surroundings, you didn’t need vampiric bullshit on top. No signs of movement. You had been sneaking out to go to the library, where he had chased you out of not long ago. You pout and sniffle, the snot in your nose threatening to dribble out.
“I don’t want to be bedridden the entire time I’m sick. Can’t you see how miserable I am?” you groan loudly, knowing that wherever he was that he would hear you. A shadow moved out of the corner of your eye. Quickly turning your head, your eyes tried to follow it but it was gone in an instant.
“You won’t get better if you don’t give your body time to recover,” the deep voice reminded, closer this time. You whip around and look behind you again, still unable to find the shadows of his form.
“You already limit what I can or can’t do. Please don’t bore me to death by leaving me with even less. At least library has books to pass the time,” you whined.
A clawed hand gently came down on your shoulder causing you to jump in surprise. Glancing over your shoulder, stern red eyes met yours before softening.
“Then I will read to you, so you aren’t as bored while you relax. But you will do so in bed.”
Dracula twisted your frame by your shoulders and began redirecting you, lightly pushing you back to whence you came. You grumbled to yourself as his hands guided your smaller form. He stayed silent as he ushered you down the castle halls until you stopped just outside your ‘bedroom’. Defiant words were about to leave your lips when a sudden coughing fit took over and forced you to heave and struggle to breathe. His brows furrowed at the sound of your hacking.
“I hate seeing you like this beloved. Mortal ailments do not become you,” he admitted sadly, eyes full of pity. His massive hand came up to rub your back in a soothing manner before pushing harder to get you over the threshold of the bedroom.
You whiped your mouth and glared at him as he ducked under the doorframe to enter behind you. He stood to his full high, blocking your only escape route both physically and metophorically. You sigh in defeat and wander further into the room. The mattress bounced lightly as you plopped down onto the bed. Your eyes dart back to the vampire lord who was fiddling with the door.
’Probably enchanting it or something so I can’t try again’, you thought. His towering form then elegantly turned your direction and began walking towards the massive bed in the center of the chamber. The way his feet barely seemed to touch the ground, as if gliding towards you only cemented again how this man was indeed a supernatural being. He stopped in front of you, cocking his brow to signify that he was waiting for you to actually lay down. You begrudgingly swing your legs off the side of the bed and crawl into the middle. Soft blankets and linen welcomed you into their depths as you made yourself comfortable.
Dracula’s hand reached out and pulled the blankets higher to lovingly tuck you in. You sniffled again. Well, as best as you could considering your nasal passage was so congested. Cold fingers brushed your hair out of your face before he leaned down to press a kiss to your heated forehead. Admittedly, having his cool lips on your fevered skin felt incredibly refreshing.
“This is only temporary, my love. Once you are better, you will be allowed to roam the castle again as you see fit. But until then, you are to stay in bed and recover. Understood?”
You pout again. He chuckles at your childish reaction.
“I’m going to prepare your next dose of medicine. Tell me the books you want and I shall fetch them on my way back. For now, close your eyes and try to sleep.”
. ִ . ، K!NKTOBER This is a series of short blurbs-drabbles-one shots that contain explicit sexual content and potentially triggering themes.
[ SERIES & COLLECTIONS ]
01 BREEDING feat. dom! abby
02 FACE SITTING feat. dom! abby
03 GHOSTFACE feat. dom! abby
04 BONDAGE feat. sub! abby
05 BLADDER CONTROL
06 FULL MOON feat. werewolf! R
07 VAMPIRE feat. ellabs
08 JENNIFER'S BODY
. ִ. ، CAM - GIRL ; Abby & reader being oh so filthy in bed!
01 abby feat. dildo
02 abby feat. wand
. ִ. ، CALL ME BY YOUR NAME ; In the summer of 1983, in northern Italy, you and your family spend a holiday with Abby, a young doctoral student that’s trying to learn from your mother.
▍M. list
. ִ . ، WHAT THE FUCK LOVE IS? ; It's 2013 and you're caught between your music career and getting back into a messy relationship with Abigail Anderson, actress who's career might be as conflicted as the whole situation.
✵﹒do you think someone could save me? curious, can you erase me? there's no medicine to change me. i'm going crazy. - new brain , naomi scott ݂ ᘐ
❖ 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ➳
░﹒please heed the tags , this is not how i perceive caitlyn kiramman to be , this is a pure work of fiction . if you know someone in an emotionally/physically abusive relationship , please refer them to helpful resources. Ꮺ special thanks to @collidewithdollface (idea) and anon for the ideas ░
tags : work place tension , cold!caitlyn , assistant!reader , hooking up in a supply closet , fingering , staying quiet , mentions of getting caught , praise kink , toxic dynamics , ‘breakup’ , reader gets a reality check and has a backbone for once
★ 𝟓 .ᐟ SHE LIKES YOU HELPLESS
tags : medical malpractice , power play , control kink , really messed up , toxic relationship , dependency , physically limited reader , g!p caitlyn , dubcon , choking , aftercare , manipulative tactics , squirting , protected piv
“You wanted to talk.” Caitlyn leaned against the kitchen counter, coffee in hand.
“Yeah,” you glanced up, keeping your gaze low for whatever reason Caitlyn had made you always feel so comparatively small for, “look, I’ve been thinking about things and I’m really— I don’t think we’re good for each other.”
Caitlyn didn’t say anything. She just stared.
You went on, “it’s not that I don’t love you, it’s just— this relationship is becoming more about you and your issues than me ever in general, and I just—”
Caitlyn didn’t say anything once again, quietly sipping her coffee. “Very well.”
You stared at her, not knowing how things would go from here, “I’m gonna go pack…” you said hesitantly but the moment you headed to the bedroom, you heard quiet footsteps advancing after you.
Caitlyn watched you open the closet with the calmest expression ever before you opened the suitcase— then she tossed a file in it.
You stared, “what’s that?”
“I think you’d wanna look inside.”
You opened it— they were printed out text conversations you’d had with Caitlyn… intimate ones, you flipped through them— your heart dropped with each and every one that you saw. Something about it aroused you, too— you hated it.
Why were you romanticising this?
Caitlyn stepped closer, “it would be a shame if our families were to know just how much of a good girl you can be when I buy you some new lingerie…” her thumb brushed your waist.
You shivered, swallowing, “Cait— this is wrong. This— it’s blackmail.”
“I call it holding on.” She pushed herself against your back. “Don’t pretend you don’t want this too.”
“I’m not pretending.” You pushed her by the shoulder and turned around, “I’m serious, Cait.”
Caitlyn’s eyes narrowed and she grabbed your wrist— pushing you against the bed. Your body bent, ass up in the air and chest pressed against the mattress.
“Caitlyn!” You squeaked, struggling under her but her grip was iron-tight.
Your face pressed against the file. Caitlyn pulled a couple of the text pictures away so your cheeks pressed against the glossy surface of another picture— a picture you’d sent her. It was provocative with a very interesting angle and very little cloth.
“Shhhh… enjoy this, darling.” Her hand cupped your tit.
Your eyes were tearful now. You hated her with everything in you but she made you feel so good that you didn’t put up a fight. Her hand squeezed your breast making you whimper softly against the glossy picture.
“See, you’re starting to accept it— you promised you’d stay forever, so you will stay.” Caitlyn pulled your skirt up roughly and pulled your panties down— they tore halfway thanks to her rough hands.
“And you’ll be Mrs. Kiramman— my wife, all—” she parted your ass cheeks, “—fucking mine.”
Caitlyn spat right there. You gasped, eyes wide and cheeks red. This was so embarrassing. You’d come here to settle things, assert control and hold dominance in this situation once and for all. You’d wanted to end things with her because of how controlling she was. But fuck, how did you end up over the bed, bent over and spat on?
“Be a good girl and moan right for me now, okay, honey?”
Of course she used her sweet, honeyed voice for you— making you feel like you were a dumb little thing that had no idea how things worked, ever.
All you could do was nod.
“Good girl.”
You melted, knees buckling a little when her long fingers made it inside. They scooped your wetness out, she wiped them on your thighs just to make you feel the stickiness of it.
“Shit, you’re this wet and you’re fucking complaining? What a slut.” Caitlyn held your pussy lips apart, and her tongue lapped at your entrance.
Your legs tried to close— she forced them open, licking her way up until her tongue pressed against your puckered asshole.
“Cait, no— don’t go there!” You gripped the sheets.
Caitlyn chuckled, “you’re cute,” she shoved two fingers back inside you, “acting as if you’re not getting wetter.”
“I’m not…” you whined, knowing fully well that was a blatant lie.
Caitlyn rolled her eyes, spitting on your asshole making you squeak softly and squirm again. She didn’t let go— her tongue attacked the tight band of muscles that resisted her tongue, two fingers curling and uncurling in your pussy as her thumb rubbed your clit— fast.
Your mouth fell open— Caitlyn Kiramman— this woman always made you feel so good and managed to hurt you too. The way she kept pushing and pulling, it was fucking addictive and you hated it. You hated how much of a sicko you felt like you were because of her.
Caitlyn grazed your g-spot, “cum,” she ordered— as if she knew your body ran entirely on her commands, her words. Whatever she desired, you did. You obeyed.
You, her good girl, whined and arched your back— pussy spasming and squeezing her before your cream dribbled down her digits and knuckles, soaking the side of the bed.
“Good luck walking out that door now.” Caitlyn kissed the side of your neck, “my stupid sweet girl.”
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