Heyaa im Astra/Star and this is my "get to know me" post. Enjoyy🗝🌹
☆ Name is Astra but im also very ok with Star too since it used to be my old nickname on twitter! Im lesbian and also i use they/she pronouns!!
☆ Im a self-taught artist who used to draw for fanfics and/or take comissions and requests but as life got busier i honestly couldnt keep up anymore as yall can guess.(i still draw tho not as frequently as i used to dw ill probably come back to the drawing scene sooner or later)
☆ Since i went to a vocational high school im actualy a mechanic who works on cars and stuff but ik currently studying for the university exam so im not working.(i looooooove my job as a mechanic)
☆ I believe in "hating the characters that youre most alike" thought and i will stand my ground on it lollz
☆ Im like,realy multi fandom honestly. Maybe not every single mainstream or niche fandom but i used to be in a shit ton of fandoms back in 2020-2023 sooo yeah
☆ Im super chill about most of the things if its ethical for my thinking i wont judge anyone for the little things.(ill change your tampon and help you wax like, bffr)
☆ If im sounding/looking a bit too cold rn just know that its bc im going through hard times and im actualy new on tumblr idk the weather around here guys i used to be a twitter girly
☆ I play leauge and i used to play a lot of games too but since im studying for my uni exam i dont have the time😭😭😭
☆ My fav animals are bunnies and arctic foxes!!
☆ Yeah i think thats about all also im from turkiye and i speak turkish/english 🇹🇷 (also i will happily make you doner if you would like lololol)
I will leave my accounts if yall wanna take a look at them! Buh byee!!🖤
Spotify🗝
Pinterest🗝
Instagram🗝
(For insta, i may not accept follow requests if i dont know you guys much tho)
Sevika did her duty as knight, a bit too well, perhaps.
Pairings: Knight!Top!Dom!Sevika x Lady!Bottom!Feminine!Fem! Reader
Content Warning: Swearing, unwanted/forced marriage, mention of kidnapping, mention of death, slight description of food, jealously, slight description of blood, attempted assassination. SMUT WARNING: Degradation, dirty talk, size kink (kind of), cocks were mentioned (not real), jealously, scratching/marking, spanking, choking, mentions of overstimulation, biting.
Word Count: 5.7K
☾*:・゚✧. Finally, a full Sevika fic!! Only took nearly a year, pft. As of writing this, I don't really know how to feel about it; I like some bits, but other sections I keep rewriting and it doesn't seem to get better; it feels very rushed. I was going to add hatred toward men in the content warnings, but, you know. This is a chance for me to introduce Angie, if she's popular enough I may write a piece of just her only. (She ATE). If you squint real hard, there's suggestive implications between Reader and Angie. Angie is queen, because I say so. Reader is also a whore, and not shy about it.
SEVIKA only knew two things. To protect and serve. So, when she saw you; in all your gracefulness and powerful elegancy; she did what she knew; protect and serve. Sevika took her job as royal knight seriously, so it was no surprise when the Queen gave her an even better task. She took an oath to protect you; and she did so diligently. Sevika was always there; a stealthy frame lurking around your sweet figure, towering over you as a means to make your presence a little more intimidating. She’d be there when you spend your time in the gardens; she would take stance outside your bedchambers; she would be there for any gown fitting you would attend; and she most certainly didn’t miss any meetings with your potential suitors. Sevika was there when the Council and your parents forced you to marry a man for the ruse of political power. Sevika was everywhere, and you couldn’t complain.
Sevika was standing dutifully by the Queen when she first caught sight of you at a ball. And so, her dark, broody presence simmered down just slightly once she caught sight of your glittering form through the crowd. Her eyes never left you; the way your body danced across the floor, you looked like a ghost with the brightness of your dress and the sparkles in your hair. She admired the way your hair danced alongside you, the way your dress waved and billowed after you. She admired you the way she admired the art of skilful fighting. Sevika stared at you so much; her eyes almost teared up with her subtle wide-eyed stare, so much so she could only hope that the Queen didn’t catch on.
It was no shock for Sevika to see the Queen choosing you as her favourite; you were soft and short, with a bright face and mellow features. The Queen, however was a force to be reckoned with, sharp, angular; standing with an impassive face and an impressive build that even shocked Sevika at first. There are many rumours about the Queen; rumours that paint her as the Devil straight from the Bible; cruel, vicious. Yet, you seemed to hold a certain grace, a softness. It seemed rather odd for you to mingle so closely with the likes of the Queen. You were a pleasant surprise for Sevika and getting a glimpse of you for the first time; was getting the wonderful news of protecting you.
“I request you to protect Lady Estelle’s heiress.” Sevika turned to see Angeliki looking over the ballroom with her steely blue eyes, she looked calm; her breathing was steady, her body looked lax. Sevika knew her boss well enough to understand that moments like these kept Angeliki on edge; her eyes would never stay at one place, she bristled just the smallest amount when a Lady or Duke approached her but most of all; her stature bristled when she saw you interact with another. Angeliki hated it here, yet she stayed for you. Angeliki swallowed thickly. “She is fragile, and I am worried I am not doing enough to protect her.”
Sevika just tipped her head in response, choosing not to say anything. Angeliki knew Sevika wasn’t one for reassuring words, and Angeliki understood that. In the short few years Sevika worked for the Queen; they both found a sense of respect for each other. They both had an unattainable strength and power, and maybe the ability of attracting sweet, pretty things.
You weren’t very shy when your mother introduced you to Sevika, you still felt the thrill of dancing, your cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. You were out of breath, but Sevika’s presence tore it out of you; like inhaling hot steam. Sevika was every bit of tall, dark and handsome. She had a presence that made your knees knock, and your eyes flutter. It felt like déjà vu, because you remembered the way you nearly tripped on the steps when you were first introduced to the Queen. It seemed as though you were naturally drawn to women that enjoyed exuding their power.
You weren’t ashamed to seduce Sevika, that same night in fact. Your heart and your core stuttered at the realisation that Sevika was to be your personal knight. You were ecstatic. Just like you were ecstatic to found out the Queen took a liking to you.
You just battered your eyes at her, as you gracefully leaned against the doorframe of your bedchambers. “Could you perhaps… help me with my corset? It’s terribly tight, and we-” You just let out a small, quiet laugh. You stared at Sevika from the corner of your eye, your gaze turning to one of doe-eyed innocence when Sevika caught your subtle stare. “It’s quite embarrassing, really. I told my dresser to not tighten it too much, but-”
Sevika just stared at you, her eyes boring into you soft figure, the way your back arched softly, just pushing the soft mountains of your breasts against the doorframe; she knew not to let her face contort to compliment her feelings, so she stared at you blankly as you rambled. She was admiring you, enjoying the way the corset hugged your curves beautifully, the small intricate beads that fell around the curve of your shoulders. Sevika liked looking at you, she realised. She just merely let the corner of her mouth curl, before she gestures dismissively for you to turn. Sevika caught wind of what you were doing, seeing as your corset strings were already halfway done.
Sevika let out a low chuckle, shaking her head before her fingers took a strong hold of your laces, not wasting another moment to push you into your bedchambers. If it weren’t for the strong hold Sevika had on your laces; you would have stumbled and fell but you could feel your stomach and chest pressing inwards as the corset tightened slightly from Sevika’s heavy tug on your strings. You could feel the cold touch of her metal fingers dragging along your thigh, the soft material of your skirt curling around her metal wrist, while her other hand – which oddly enough – was cold as well; shamelessly tucked themselves away into your undergarments, smirking when there already seemed to a puddle on her fingertips.
“Didn’t take a Lady to be such a whore.”
Your mother was adamant that you marry; you tried to protest but that seemed to speed up the process and before you could even catch your breath; you were already taken to a first meeting with your would-be husband. By the end of the week, Lady Estelle announced the news of your marriage to Angeliki. Nobody knew what the Queen wore on her face, she merely sat on her throne; barely sparing a glance at Lady Estelle before you felt your body straighten when Angeliki turned to you.
“This was your choice?” Angeliki spoke; her voice was steady and calm, but it echoed throughout the throne room. Sevika could see the guards straighten in alarm at the sound of her voice, fumbling to tighten their hold on their weapons or subtly straighten their uniform.
No, not really. You nodded, dipping your head in a slight tilt. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
You were meant to marry your husband; but your eyes kept drifting to the dark figure looming in the corner of the church. Sevika was meant to be working, making sure to keep you safe on such an important day; but her dark eyes always found you; the tightly bound, pink flowers in your hand; the delicate veil as it fell around your face. You were sparkling, you would have been beaming; if not for the hideous truth that you never wanted this marriage. How could Sevika protect you from any danger when it was standing right next to you?
The church held the same air well; thick and potent, maybe it was the eerie silence that followed the end of the organ playing when you stepped on the altar, or it might have been the way Angeliki wouldn’t keep her steely glare off of Lady Estelle. Sevika could feel it from her post, the way her broad shoulders were drawn back, the muscles in her back tightening the more and more officiant rambled on. Sevika felt sorry for the Queen’s advisor; who in her small stature; did everything she could to avoid Angeliki and her cold gaze.
You felt it as well, the officiator may have been the one talking, but you could feel and hear the steady, eery breathing of the Queen behind you; for you it felt as though her body expanded and hunched, almost creating a looming shadow and presence over your smaller stature. Oh, what eery eyes you have.
Sevika was also there at the night of your wedding, standing outside your bedchambers due diligently before any and all sense flew from her head, and not long after; it wasn’t your husband who consummated your marriage; it was her. You had quietly requested that you keep your husband out of your room, and Sevika obliged. She was admiring the way you gracefully undressed to your bridal negligee. It looked stunning on you; the soft fabric settled wonderfully on your curves. Sevika couldn’t keep her hands off you.
“You taste wonderful, My Lady.” You could hardly get a word out when Sevika shamelessly dove back in between your thighs; the tip of her large nose nudging against your swollen clit. You let out a quiet whimper; your thighs trembling in her large hands, when Sevika hummed; the sound so low; it heard and felt like a growl. “And you look absolutely stunning. Like a fairy.”
You tipped your head back, a low breathy moan slipping from your mouth; you squirmed when Sevika pressed herself further into you; the ravenous, needy shake of her head causing her hair to tickle your glittering thighs as another low grunt fell past her mouth. You didn’t hear it, you felt it; the sound vibrating through your core.
Sevika’s eyes ran over your trembling form; soft and delicate. She could see the way your nipples perked through the thin material of your negligee; she loved watching the way the nightgown tightened and hugged your curves. You were sparkling; a soft sheen of sweat along your skin; the glitter of your makeup; dotted across your face. It certainly didn’t help that your nightgown was adorned with sequins and beads, it looked like a shining puddle around your body. You looked every bit of the beautiful bride you were, soft, angelic, twinkling. You were all hers. All of you. Sevika felt a rush of pride at that thought; you married a man, yet you were here; your body open for her.
“Your lousy fucking husband couldn’t do this, could he?” Sevika asks, her dark lips curled in a vicious smirk. Sevika rose up to her full height, the creases of her large palm running over the expanse of your thighs, her thick fingers tightening around the delicate curve of your ankle; her thumb absentmindedly caressing the divot on the heel of your foot. You were too much in a drunken, pleasured haze, you didn’t realise Sevika’s fingers sneaking toward your entrance. “Fuck you like this?”
“I hope you don’t keep using crude language during our most intimate moments,” you scolded, a gasped moan escaping your mouth when Sevika’s thick finger pushed past your ring of muscle, jolting at the delicious burn.
A shiver ran through your body when Sevika chuckled, the dark sound rumbling from her chest and vibrating through her powerful body. “Apologies, my Lady.” Sevika rumbles, sliding the length of her fingers along your inner walls, marvelling at the sight of your entrance greedily taking her thick, calloused digits. Sevika leaned forward to taste the soft skin of your nape, sucking gently; it was almost as if she could taste the sweetness from your perfume, settling on her tongue like a thin mist; you tasted like vanilla and raspberry.
You muffled in a moan, sucking in your bottom lip when Sevika’s mouth wrapped around your pebbled nipple, sucking harshly until spit ran down the crevice of your breasts and down Sevika’s chin. You cried out when her teeth pulled and nicked your nipple, letting it stretch before letting go with an audible pop. You couldn’t help but flush when you felt the dark, heavy gaze from Sevika’s piercing eyes trace over the curves of your writhing body, a moan catching in your throat when her fingers picked up speed.
“Do you know how pretty you look? Laying like that? With you being so greedy, so greedy. You want more of my fingers, needy girl?” Sevika ground out, the dresser creaking dangerously under her thrusts. “My cock?” Sevika offered, her dark eyebrow arched before she smirked with a light scoff, seeing the way you slightly lifted your hips, a strangled sigh falling past your mouth. “Such a slut. Is that what you want? My cock filling your pussy and stretching you out?”
You cried out, your head falling backwards onto the mirror behind you. You could feel your nails almost break and peel as you clawed at the wood under you, the same way Sevika’s nails dug into your soft skin, keeping you to stay splayed out for her leisure. It was a delicious pain, it made your skin chill with pleasure, goosebumps trailing your skin. Your heart stuttered in your chest when you felt the familiar hold around your throat; Sevika easily guiding you to stand in front of her.
You felt and looked small against Sevika, you realised. You saw the way the rolls on your body almost wilted under Sevika’s wandering hands, your skin was tugged and pulled, the enticing curves of your breasts almost melting into Sevika’s metal palm, the thin barely-there negligee melted against your skin, before Sevika pulled off your body with a disgruntled mumble. Sevika seemed to enjoy it; the way your belly seemed to lift from the strength of her hand and fall with an inviting jiggle. For Sevika, it felt as though she was moulding putty in her hands, soft and inviting and so, so irresistible.
You gasped, your back arching as Sevika dove down; sucking your nipple into her hungry mouth, before trailing her mouth down the underside of your breast. Sevika was aching for a part of you, any part of you, grunting and groaning as she opened her mouth further around your breast. Sevika didn’t let go of your breast for a while, the large curve of her nose resting flush against the underside of your breast. Sevika’s skin was warm, and the tip of her nose was hard; digging into the doughy flesh and skimming across the soft skin.
Sevika’s hand was large as well, the palm heavy as it struck your core; her thick fingers eagerly and quickly finding its way through your folds and in your squelching cunt. It covered your cunt entirely; you could barely see the way your puffy lips wrapped around her fingers, and the way they rolled. Her prosthetic arm was much larger, the metal claws creeping around the curve of your belly before snatching up your disregarded breast, squeezing the tissue.
Sevika urgently ran her mouth up your arm, along the curve of your shoulder, over the pulse points on your neck, delivering half sent kisses on your skin as if she only had a few moments with you. “You are like ice cream. I’ve never fucked someone so soft,” Sevika whispered under your jaw, breathing your scent in deeply before wrapping her lips around your chin. “Look at the way you’re melting in my hands.”
It was embarrassing that Sevika was right; you couldn’t help but buck your hips into Sevika’s hands, letting out a breathy huff when her fingers– for whatever reason – wouldn’t reach the fleshy sponge nestled deep below your belly button. Yes, your skin may as well be considered a sort of dough, or ice cream; the fat in your breasts pooled and sunk through the spaces of Sevika’s metal fingers and over the bones and structure of her cool forearm. Yes, Sevika was right. And, yes, you enjoyed the way Sevika took your body and mind, and completely fucked out any thought from you.
“Bend over,” Sevika’s voice was gruff, desperate, and your gasp that followed was pathetic and rushed, because in a quick moment you found yourself arched over your makeup vanity. The soft globes of your breasts were moulded and shifted to press against the hardwood, and you could feel the way your belly stretched to rest on the surface without pulling your skin too much.
You squirmed, the rough curves and joints of Sevika’s metal fingers scarping across the slopes of your ass, before you let out a hushed gasp when Sevika’s claws dug into your skin, enough to cause a shiver to run through you. “I saw the way you looked at the Queen today. Did you want her cock as well?”
You couldn’t answer, because Sevika’s pointed claws were trailing across your slit. Sevika laughed, her brows drawing in at the amount of slick that painted her bronze fingers, she had half the mind to fuck you with your mechanical hand, but that meant the chance of internal injuries. You felt the vanity creak a little under your weight when Sevika grabbed a fistful of your ass, the metal of her fingers just barely piercing the skin; she didn’t give you a chance to react before you felt the familiar round tip of Sevika’s cock pushing past the ring of muscle.
You tried to squirm, but jumped and gasped when Sevika’s fleshed palm struck your ass, the sound thundering through the otherwise quiet room. You felt the vanity creak again when Sevika pulled your ass apart, revealing your puffy, wet lips. Sevika hummed, low and throaty when she moved her hips slowly, ogling as your lips dragged across the silicone shaft. She could almost feel it, the way your pussy sucked her in, the way it pulsed and quivered as though you were going to cum.
You had nothing to hold onto, your nails scratched against the grooves of the wood, moaning against the dark, red surface and before you could comprehend; your hands flew out to catch the mirror. Sevika’s was always rough, but today – you gasped again, a strangled moan lodged deep within your throat; the silicone cock nestled so snugly, you had no way of escaping. Every roll of your hip, an arch of your back or the way you tried to squeeze your thighs; urged Sevika on more.
You squirmed again and Sevika cupped your waist tightly, using your writhing, pathetic body as leverage to slide into you deeper. The second time you squirmed, and you felt the beautiful, suffocating weight of Sevika’s hand on your back; though it did little to keep you still. The third time and her patience was waning; the wooden surface shook and almost splintered when Sevika smacked her palms against the vanity; from the corner of your tearful, hazy eyes, Sevika’s claws were cutting through the paint, soon enough the wood would start to chip away.
You cried out, biting your lip in effort to keep your sounds muffled. Sevika didn’t bother to; huffs and grunts falling past her mouth over you. At this point the mirror was hitting the wall, and the legs were creaking, the drawers were threatening to open as they clanked and rattled. Were you about to fall? Maybe. Did you care? No. Definitely not. Your vision blurred and your thighs trembled from the onslaught of Sevika’s angry thrusts, and the pleasure that sizzled through you. “Vika-”
“Stop talking. Going to fuck you until your legs give out.” Sevika rasped out, her hips slapping against your reddening ass. You were too far in your daze to realise that Sevika shifted, the vanity creaking with her change in position. You breathed out a low, pleasured laugh, blinking your eyes; feeling the familiar tightness around your throat. Sevika’s metal hand had warmed up at this point, so it didn’t startle you when she held you firmly under your jaw; somehow keeping your body arched and poised.
Plap. Plap. Plap. Plap.
Breathing was difficult now, your heart raced, and your pulse along your neck followed, thumping wildly. You groaned; the sound garbled, whiny and Sevika would have felt it vibrate through her hand, but her metal fingers were incapable of feeling anything. Sevika could hear it though, and see it; the way your eyes fluttered shut and the way your arousal seemed to drip down your thighs. Sevika seemed to go faster once she held you by your throat, the sound of squelching between your legs so loud.
It was humiliating that your orgasm came quickly; you hadn’t realised it until you felt some sort of dam breaking inside of you, causing you to writhe and pant, before you lifted yourself off the vanity, clawing blindly at Sevika’s thigh, feeling the muscles roll and tense as Sevika continued her thrusts. “Keep cumming on my cock. Fuck, you’re such a slut.” Sevika gritted out in your ear, her voice low and throaty, her hands were persistent, her fingers finding their way back to your hips, squeezing the skin, pulling and tugging almost off your bones. You cried out, your fingers clenching the edge of the vanity, your legs – which now were resting on the warm wooden surface – shuddered; goosebumps dusting your skin, and weirdly enough, the pleasure simmering slightly, creeping back up the more Sevika pummelled into you. “We’re going to do this again and you’re going to lay there and take it, you hear me?”
“I do not like your husband.” Angeliki states; her broad arm resting against the back of her chair. She was almost slouching; her legs spread out; the button of her shirt nearly popping and giving you an enticing view of the curves of her breasts. Table etiquette for her was long forgotten; as the Queen she had other pressing matters to stress over. You told her it was because people were far too intimidated to tell her off, but Angeliki believed it was because people were too tired to.
You just smiled sadly at her, buttering a small piece of bread. You delicately take a bite out of it; chewing slowly and swallowing it before you replied. “I don’t want you to feel bad, Your Grace. It’s the Council’s-”
“Yes. Who are they to tell me what I can and cannot do? They have no right.” Angeliki replies. “I will your end marriage. Believe me.” Angeliki’s nose twitches, as though she wanted to curl it in disgust, before her eyes drop to her small cup.
“And how are you going to do that, Your Grace?” You tried to keep your movements minimal, your back still ached, your throat burned slightly, your muscles felt tense and – to put it crudely – your pussy was still sore. You take another bite of your bread, swallowing and lightly grazing your neck, sending a quick glance to Sevika. You squirmed in your seat, wiping the corner of your mouth with your napkin. Angeliki’s stare had always been cold, calculating; it seemed as though she was analysing every bit of your soul and body, but today felt more meticulous. Maybe it was because you wore the guilt of warming the bed of your personal guard, or the fact that you didn’t warm hers last night.
“I suppose a shovel. People have told me I have a very heavy hand; one hit may be enough.”
You wait for her to monotonously tell you it was a joke, but the Queen seems too preoccupied with trying to use a dainty, demitasse spoon in her large fingers. “Your Grace. This may seem out of hand for what I am about to say, but you can’t kill my husband!” You exclaim in a hushed manner, sending a nervous smile to a castle worker who started to clear the table.
“Why not? He is a man.” Angeliki gives the spoon a look of contempt, before she reaches for a larger soup spoon. “All men are good for is to beat and fuck. You cannot do or will do neither to him. So, naturally he must go. Sevika agrees with me, no?”
You sneak a glance at Sevika; who is standing quietly by the wall; you wondered how she kept a straight face in this argument. Sevika merely tips her head; the corners of her mouth curled. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
“See?” You don’t argue, knowing the Queen; it was like talking to a wall sometimes, tall, and stubborn. Angeliki carries on, taking a large gulp of her coffee, humming once. “Men are useless. They have horrid temperament, a fragile ego. They are pathetic, ingrates. Why do you think whoever works closely to me are women?”
You let a sigh, folding your hands in your lap. You can feel Sevika’s presence behind you; it was heavy and dark. It almost feels as though she’s closing in on your back. Like last night; when she fucked you in front of the mirror. “Surely, there must be another way.”
“Kidnapping? Your husband is small and dainty, so I can easily drag him or carry him over my shoulder.” Angeliki suggests, she turns to Sevika. “Kidnapping, no?”
Sevika tips her head again, this time her mouth curled further in amusement. “I suppose that is a better idea.”
Angeliki nods approvingly, a low grunt escaping her throat as she reaches up to flick back her short hair, only to find it in the same place by her ears; she didn’t try to fix it again. “I knew I did right by hiring you. A fine choice.”
You shake your head, leaning back on your chair. “You both are impossible. My husband is a Duke, he is in politics-”
“That is why he married into your family?” Angeliki asks, her confused gaze on the small crumpets, turning it over and over in her hands as if to make sure the crumpets were actually that small. Shaking her head as she reaches over to pile more on her plate. “He is not important enough, if he married you for a better title.”
You stay quiet, focusing on finishing the piece of bread that suddenly felt too thick and dry to travel down your throat, you held it between your fingers, squeezing the bread until it melded back into a dough. “I suppose…”
Angeliki hummed, nodding once at your agreement, she swallowed the last of her food, washing it down with a glass of water. “Stay close to me or Sevika for the ball tonight. Your husband has been skittish lately, I do not want you to get hurt.”
You didn’t normally listen when either the Queen or Sevika told you to do something, you liked to see the way their muscles would hunch at the realisation, or the way their eyebrows would draw in slightly. It was fun, and it always ended up with you satisfied one way or the other by the end of the night.
Yet, you were glad you listened today, the tension between your small circle was palpable. You felt it, it made your muscles tense, and your teeth grind. You didn’t give yourself the luxury at ogling at either women’s outfits. You only caught a glimpse of Angeliki’s golden and black suit and the intricate flower patterns on the bronze metal of Sevika’s uniform.
Angeliki drew her shoulders in when your husband approached your table, bowing deeply and dutifully to Angeliki; at that sight: Sevika straightened up, her hand tight around the hilt of her sword. You smiled lightly at him, forcing away the habit of squirming away from him when he leaned in for a performative, polite kiss on the cheek. He wouldn’t dare do anything more in Angeliki’s presence, or Sevika’s for that matter.
Your husband didn’t take a seat until Angeliki gestured toward the chair with a simple gaze toward it. Though the music was playing softly from the corner of the ballroom, it was quiet, you could hear the lazy, calm breathing of the Queen, and the pitiable, panicking breathing of your husband. Sevika shuffled behind you, a slight clearing of her throat as the bronze metal of her uniform clinked against each other. Quiet. Dead silence.
Your husband laughed, the sound rushed and garbled as he swallowed thickly, he waved down a waiter, his smile widening as the waiter closed in on their table, dutifully placing glasses of chilled water in front of each of them. You flickered your eyes to it, it was lemon water, judging by some curled rind sunk at the bottom and a lemon wedge hugging the lip of the glass. “U- ch-chilled lemon water, Your Majesty.”
You were right, but you raised a subtle eyebrow at your husband. He was acting skittish, his eyes kept darting to the glass and back up at Angeliki, he was barely sitting in his seat, his chest pressed so close to the table, you could see the tablecloth sag under his weight.
Angeliki’s gaze was as piercing as ever; the icy circles of her eyes trailing lazily across your husband’s form. She reaches for the glass, her fingers wrapping around it and lifting it slowly to her mouth. Angeliki hums, her stony orbs rising to meet the man across her, blinking once, twice before placing the glass back on the table.
Angeliki arose from her seat, her suit crinkling before she uses her large hands to smooth down the silk velvet fabric. “Follow me.” Angeliki didn’t wait for an answer, or a refusal as she steps down from the table, her large form stalking to the exit of the ballroom. Your husband’s eyes widened slightly, but he scrambled to his full height, smoothing down his own suit before rushing down the steps to follow Angeliki. Sevika followed closely behind, her bulky form closing in on your husband from behind. You stood up as well, your glossed lips slightly apart as you rushed after them. What was going on?
You caught up to them after a few moments, it would have been quicker if not for the sheer weight of your dress. You stood by the doorframe, feeling your body jolt at the chilly night air. You saw Angeliki shrug off her suit jacket; your breath hitching at the way her muscles rolled as she handed the jacket to Sevika. Sevika wasted no moment to douse you in it, ensuring it covered your cold chest and arms, before standing stoically by your side. It was quiet here as well, the only rustle of Angeliki’s sleeves rolling up her forearms and the nervous splutter from your husband.
“Men are always stupid,” Angeliki states simply, her large forearms tensing as she sought herself comfortable, her steps were quiet, heavy as they trailed to your husband. “Poison? In my drink? It seems as though you were arrogant as well, considering you thought I would accept a drink from you.” You tensed, a soft gasp falling from your mouth, when Angeliki snapped her hand forward; her thick, burly fingers seizing around the man’s jaw, squeezing tightly until his lips puckered and his cheeks filled out.
Your husband clawed at Angeliki’s hand, trying his hardest to pull her fingers away, but it only made her hold on, shaking his head as if to scold him. You jumped when he cried out, his eyes almost bulging out of his head as he shook and writhed in Angeliki’s grip, before your eyes snapped to Angeliki when a sickening crack echoed through, and a shrill, panicked cry from your husband.
Angeliki merely blinked, her eyes averting to each of his eyes before they fell to his throat, it was starting to get pink, veins protruding from his skin as he struggled. Your husband managed to carve a few scratches into Angeliki’s skin, and soon enough had grasped enough of her forearm to pull her away. You heart thundered and sunk in your chest when your husband lurched his head forward with a determined cry, suddenly finding courage and smiling lopsidedly in triumphant when Angeliki’s head snapped back, a trickle of blood running from her nose and down her lip.
Angeliki sniffed, her lips curling in a snarl before her head knocked forward in retaliation, once, twice; before spitting the red, almost gelatinous blood onto his face, sending a swift, heavy punch to his throat. Your husband cried out, falling back against the grass as he choked on his blood. Angeliki loomed over him, the muscles under her shirt tensing, letting the weight of her shoe and body press into his groin, pressing harder when your husband flinched. “Do not come near me again, lest I pull the skin from your pathetic body and force you to feed on it. Sevika.” Angeliki commanded, standing to her full height and walking toward you.
You swallowed thickly, your eyes wide as they zeroed in on Angeliki, her height allowing her to tower over you. You let your eyes run over Angeliki, over her chest that rose and fell, over the way fabric squeezed along her broad shoulders, the deep, angry scratches on her rough forearm and hand, before your eyes snapped to Sevika. “She will not kill him. Merely warn him. He will do well to leave you alone as well.”
You wished you could see Sevika’s body under her uniform, you wanted to see the way her back rippled as she delivered punches toward your husband, the way her abs would tense. You felt foolish, gaping at the two women; you shouldn’t but you did. There was a tight coil in your lower belly, one that threatened to snap once Sevika rose to her full height, her armour clinking as she panted, before your eyes travelled back to Angeliki; who was already staring at you, before she nodded toward the ballroom, urging you forward.
Of course, you obeyed, especially if you were going to feel the prepotent presence of the women behind you.
Summary: It’s been a few days since the war ended, Caitlyn is recovering from her injuries. Despite that, she still has the responsibilities of a Kiramman that weigh upon her. Luckily, she has you to ground her.
A/N: Love my wife DOWN—I love writing from her perspective (in a way). This is her late birthday present :3
She looked through the scope of the sniper with her remaining eye, focused on the target; the bright red spot in the middle of the silhouette head.
Bang!
The golden bullet soared through the air, the Kiramman crest implanted on it shining through the air. A quick swish interrupting the silent atmosphere.
It missed the bullseye, by a few inches.
Dammit.
She growled under her breath, looking down at her sniper. The sound of it slamming onto the ground echoed through the empty room.
She’s been in here for quite a while, hours. She didn’t get a single shot but was determined to stay until she got one. Talk about stubborn.
She’s known for her excellent shooting skills, one of the best in Piltover. And now…she can’t even hit a single bullseye.
What a disappointment.
What would Grayson think, seeing the girl she trained in shooting, not even able to hit the target?
What would her mother think? Her daughter had done so much damage. Went against her morals and now deeply regretted it, the amount of guilt she felt is a consequence itself.
What a disappointment.
She attempted to take deep breaths, a practice she’s been working on with you. But the feelings kept bubbling up, like an active volcano, on the verge of a damaging explosion. So caught up in her thoughts, the sound of your footsteps didn’t register.
“Cait?,” you tilted your head into the room, watching her stiff form slightly relax at the sound of your voice. She didn’t look back, shame settling in from her outburst.
“Baby, you’ve been in here for hours, it’s starting to get late,” you spoke to her gently, being careful not to aggravate her any further.
“I still have work to do,” the words came out in a cold tone. She turned her head in your direction, didn’t look at you.
A sigh is all she received in return. “Don’t stay up all night,” with that, you walked back down the hall; heading to the bedroom.
The room was incredibly spacious, its tall ceilings and wide walls created a relaxing environment. In the middle was her bed, a queen size, large enough for the both of you.
Her wealth was a privilege, she is privileged. She realized at a very young age, not everyone has what she has. And that always plagued her thoughts, especially when she first saw Zaun’s condition.
Do your part, help those who are oppressed under this system.
It was always felt like her responsibility.
—★—
In her office, Caitlyn stared at the letter in front of her, sent by the council. She hasn’t visited a meeting ever since she declared her position as a decorated officer; firmly explaining her objectives to take down the system in Zaun.
Dear Ms. Kiramman,
We call you to a mandatory meeting, tomorrow at noon. There are many issues to be discussed.
- The Piltovian Council
She bit the inside of her cheek, going over the words several times. Ever since her mother’s passing, the chair was passed onto her. Although, Mel, near a sister to her, advised that she took the time to grieve, so much for that.
The mage was going to leave for Noxus, it saddened her, even if she would visit and send letters; it wouldn’t be the same.
She isn’t completely lonely, she has her father, and you of course. It’s like an itch, it won’t go away.
Maybe it’s because the older woman was the sister she always wanted. Similar to how Jayce was the brother she never had. Now he’s gone…left another hole that she can’t fill.
—★—
It was past midnight, the cold air from the open balcony door provided at least a touch of fresh air. You forced yourself to stay awake, waiting until Caitlyn came back to bed. Even while in and out of sleep, she was the first thing on your mind; knowing she was cooped up in her office, trying to rush through paperwork that wasn’t due until weeks from now. She’s been working herself to the bone. You were afraid that if she kept pushing and pushing, her body would drop from exhaustion.
The door creaked as it slowly opened then shut. She stood there for a moment to test if you were awake; she got her answer when you turned around to look at her. The dark lighting of the room preventing you from seeing her features.
The sheets crinkled under you as you got up from the bed; taking her hand and leading her to her bathroom. “I know you haven’t been properly taking care of yourself. I can smell it,” you scrunched up your nose, attempting to lighten up the mood. The slightest smile traced her lips but faded as fast as it came.
You carefully undressed her, revealing her bare body, nothing you haven’t seen before. Your finger traced the stitches of where she had gotten stabbed; trailing it back to her eyepatch.
“You can take it off, you know?” You looked at the patch that matched her hair. You had to admit, it was adorable.
All she did was give a single nod, slowly removing it—the hidden eye finally seeing the light. Doctors had to perform a tarsorrhaphy, as her eye would not be able to close on its own.
It didn’t bother you because it ‘altered’ her appearance but that she would struggle. Her depth perception was poor, she wasn’t able to navigate how far away objects are. It hurts your heart to see that she’s been getting so frustrated with herself and having occasional outbursts.
You zoned back into reality when she turned on the hot water, steam soon filling the room. She didn’t like her showers just hot but boiling. It concerned you at one point of how her skin didn’t get irritated.
She stepped in and her shoulders slightly dropped, bowing her head down. Stepping in behind her, you grabbed her wash cloth and lathered it in soap.
You rubbed the cloth against her body, cleansing her skin. She moaned quietly out of relief, she really needed this.
—★—
A strangled gasp escaped her mouth; gasping for air as she awakened. The nightmare playing on repeat in her mind.
Jinx. Torture. Gun to her head.
She hardly talked to you about her time with Jinx. How deeply it affected her. Her mother’s death was the tip of the iceberg. What that girl did to her haunted her every night afterwards, she couldn’t even bathe by herself. It was you that got into the shower every night and protected her from the hallucinations that lingered.
You knew what happened as soon as you felt her jolt. Reaching to the nightstand and flicking on the lamp, partially lighting the room. You could see her clearly.
Her chest moving up and down with every breath she took. The sweat dripping against her pale skin. How her eye was wide and scanning the room as if cautiously looking for somebody.
She sighed, lying her head back down on the pillow. “I’m sorry..” she whispered, the words cracking like an object under pressure. “I—I know I’ve been distant as of late. I just…everything’s coming back to me. It’s overwhelming, like I’m suffocating.”
Pressing your body against hers, you held a hand to her cheek, gently stroking your thumb near the eyepatch. She leaned into your touch, her eye closing at the soft sensation of your palm—savoring it.
“You’ve been through so much, we both have, and that’s not stopping me from loving you.” You lift her head to where she’d meet your gaze.
Water swelled up in her eye, though she tried to blink it away, a tear still fell. You didn’t wipe it away, instead letting it linger.
“I’m here,” your soft whisper caused her to finally break. Her eyes squinting as she let out a quiet sob, burying her face into your neck. It’s the one place where she felt safe, secure. Your hand rested on the back of her head, stroking the deep blue hair.
“I…” she sniffled, “I don’t deserve you.” You never wanted to hear those words come out of her mouth. Sure, maybe she didn’t deserve you, her actions needed to come with consequence. But from what you’ve seen, she’s been beating herself up over this.
And after all that she’s been through, you never gave up on her. Even if her grief led her actions, resulting in chaos.
You were determined, and that’s what she loved most about you.
“Nothing will stray me away, okay? We’ll get through this together.” You looked down at her for confirmation. She lifted her head, giving a small nod.
She slowly wiped her tears away, “I think I need a break,” she admitted with a humorless laugh. “I’ve been so focused on trying to fix everything that I set unrealistic expectations. I can’t do everything but…what am I going to do?” She looked into your eyes, searching for an answer.
“What you need to do is take it slow, progress doesn’t come immediately. Patience is the most valuable thing you can have right now.”
The words seemed to get through to her, thankfully. But all she really wanted—needed right now, is you.
You laid back down on the soft but firm mattress, pulling her down with you. “Try and get some actual rest,” her head rested on your chest, cheek pressed again it. Her long legs tangling around your frame, pulling you closer as to mold herself into you.
“I love you..” her muffled words vibrated across your body. “I love you too,” you smiled as your eyes began to close.
She couldn’t ask for anything better.
A/N: Definitely the longest fic I’ve written in a while, it shows how much I love her!
Omg now I’m thinking about her slowly accumulating things for Isha rather than having a shower or smth. she sees like a cute baby band t-shirt and is like “oh i think she needs this” and vi, cait and ekko being the same way? I HAVE NO IDEA IF THIS MAKES SENSE BUT I HOPE YOU GET WHAT I MEAN LOL
and then she’s trying to get organised before she’s born and is like “wait when did i get this much stuff what the fuck”
yES OMG this is exactly what happens!!! it's very slow unintentional hoarding
the whole time everyone is just offhandedly like 'aw that's cute i'll just grab this'. and then the eviction date is approaching and it's time to actually put everything away and there's physically not enough space for all of it
i feel like it has the same energy as a household not checking if someone already fed the cat. not checking if there are already too many stuffed animals in the house before bringing home another one
Her kisses were reverent, like you were the only bit of heaven she'd ever get to taste.
"Caitlyn," you whispered, hands raking through dark blue hair as she continued decorating your skin with the evidence of her devotion.
"Yes, love," she responded, tilting her head slightly so her gaze could meet with yours.
And when you looked into her eyes, you felt your stomach tighten. You'd never seen such hunger — fierce as it was adoring — concentrated into a single look.
You gulped.
It had been a mere week since she'd last seen you, but with the way she so eagerly claimed you, one would think she'd yearned for your touch for entire centuries.
Maybe she had. Maybe her soul really did ache for yours in a way that was far too painful for either of you to comprehend.
Your thoughts were cut short when she began drifting south, trailing kisses in her wake. And oh, she made sure no part of you was left unpraised.
Your lips. Neck. Collarbone. Breasts. Tummy. Every part got its fair share of her worship. But it seemed she was intent on giving a particular part a bit more attention.
Her breath ghosted your thigh, sending sparks of anticipation through you. Slowly, she sucked at the sensitive skin, nipping gently with every flick of her tongue.
"Janna. I missed you so much," she muttered as firm hands came to rest upon your thighs.
You couldn't help the moan that slipped out of you. It was insane. Her fingers hadn't even grazed where you needed her most, yet you felt like you could cum on the spot. It seemed that mouth of hers had been made specifically to torture you as much as possible. But you wondered if the arousal you felt dripping between your thighs really made this count as "torture".
She must have noticed the way you squirmed into the couch, because Caitlyn finally decided to give you what you wanted.
When her fingers gently pulled your panties down, you felt heat rush up to your cheeks. They were soaked through. Completely. More than you'd even thought.
Caitlyn's lips curved up into a small smile.
"I suppose you missed me too."
You thought it strange, that despite the gentle embarrassment nudging at your heart, a part of you felt even more turned on by the situation. Perhaps it was because you knew you could never be this vulnerable, this eager, with anyone asides Caitlyn Kiramman. Your heart was to beat in sync with hers and your lust to be tamed by the precise movements of her body. You wouldn't have it any other way. You couldn't.
"Cait... please," you murmured.
She nodded, inching closer and closer to your heat. Her tongue met the slick folds of your cunt with practised ease. You whimpered, hands shooting up into her hair as she pressed her tongue flat against you.
Your response seemed to spur her on, because she gripped your hips and began slow, circular motions over your pussy. But the precision of her movements did nothing to hide the pure need leaking from her.
"You taste divine," she breathed, voice husky as you rocked into her mouth.
Her lips found your clitoris, and when she started gently sucking, you were certain you'd go mad with pleasure. Her tongue flicked out once again, slowly but steadily rolling the sensitive bundle of nerves in her eager mouth.
"Sh-shit. Shit. Cait..." Strings of pathetically needy moans fell from you as your grip on her hair tightened. And you'd actually be concerned for the state of her scalp if your senses weren't so inhibited by her tongue.
As if it wasn't overwhelming enough, Caitlyn decided to slip slender fingers past your folds and into your cunt. They intruded with a wet squelch as your thighs tensed around her.
"Such a good girl... taking me so well," she whispered with a smile, pumping her fingers with barely suppressed lust.
You were close, so close and you desperately needed to come undone with her praises grounding you.
"Cait — oh, Janna — C-cait, I'm..."
And that was all it took for her quicken, mouth and fingers moving at a harsher, faster pace.
"That's it, darling," she said. "You did so well for me... Now let go. I got you."
You did. Toes curling and nails raking across her shoulders, you came violently, as she continued lapping at your cunt, helping you ride out each and every single wave that overcame you.
When your high finally faded, you stared at Caitlyn through partly-closed eyelids, chest still heaving from the intensity of your climax.
Your arousal remained all over her face, almost like she saw it as some sort of trophy. Nobody else could spend hours buried between your thighs. Nobody asides her.
Gently, she slid back unto the chair, snaking her arms around you.
"You're breathtaking," she said and you could only hum in response, tiredness overcoming you.
You were spent. Totally. And you loved every part of it.
A/N: Is it obvious I kinda lost motivation towards the end 😭
Masterlist
All rights reserved. Please don’t copy, repost, or claim this work as your own. This is my creation. Thank you for reading and respecting that.
Synopsis: She always said you where above the girls she snuck into her room, then why wont she put a label on the two of you?
ooc Cait i think but like I didnt know how to finish this
"God I'm loosing my mind" you mumble to yourself as you prime a canvas, for a date night that might not even happen. 'what's the point' you think while putting your stuff away, you planned a nice date night for you and Cait, but now your just questioning if she even loves you like you assume she does, I mean- actions do speak louder then words.. right?
When Caitlyn eventually arrives, coming in through your window because due to her status, nobody really knows about your 'relationship'- well your dog knows but he doesnt count.
"Hey Princess" she hugs and kisses you softly, hiding something behind her back "Hey Cait.." you say awkwardly, mind still dwelling on how she might not love you "Oh Princess? what's wrong?" she places your surprise down on your bed and hugs you comfortingly. Your lip starts to quiver "I-- I feel like m' crazy because" you hesitate, she rubs your back and traces shapes into your side "hey you can tell me anything you know me.." Cait leads you to her bed and continues to comfort you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear "Caitlyn do you really love me?" you whisper, nervous--obviously her breath hitches “P—please let me figure it out” you tear up and she lays with you on your bed “Princess why would you ask me that? Of course I love you” you look away from her “Then why don't I feel it?” she struggles to answer you "y/n you know its hard for m--" "yeah well its hard for me too Cait! You have to tell her!" you argue before she can even start on her spiel again "Caitlyn she probably will disapprove but she'd put up with it! She literally has all this time! She's walked in on us cuddling so many times Cait! It is so painfully obvious that you like girls! or at least me.." you quiet down after a little bit, breathing heavily out of frustration and sadness.
Cait stays silent, she knows your right, she knows that her mother will.. reluctantly love her still, but she just doesn't understand why she cant just tell her mom outright, she always just thought that her parents would get the hint and not bother her about it but she was scared, she knew they didn't care as long as she carried out the Kiramman bloodline but she was scared that they would force her to leave you--force you out of her life. She sighs "I know I do okay? Just because I haven't doesn't mean I don't love you--" "you love me..?" she sees even more tears welling up in your eyes moving to wipe them before they can even fall "why would I not?" you feel gentle kisses being pressed all over your face, as well as Cait mumbling 'perfect' over and over again
with a huff you pull away "Cait, who was it that said a white wall may seem empty" you take a breath and Cait plays with your hair "But its ready to be filler, and in its readiness needs nothing, it stands complete" you finish "hm.. whoever it was is right, just because something seems empty doesn't mean its not complete" you giggle at her cluelessness "It was you Cait.. you told me that strange poem but it makes me wonder, if your ready, ready to be happy with me" you look into her eyes, her pupils dilated as she stares back with love "I'm ready Princess,..." without hesitation you push your soft lips against hers, your strawberry chap stick mixing with her vanilla "tomorrow, I promise I'll do it tomorrow" she says a bit breathlessly as she lets go of the kiss "Pinky promise" you childishly stick your pinky finger to her and she intertwines the two and locks it in with your thumbs touching, she then kisses your hand "Pinky promise"
--
The very next day, Cait fulfilled her promise and snuck you into her house, she wanted you to officially meet her parents, as her girlfriend :)
but omg the caitvi sesbian lex was so goooddd, expect 18+ hcs coming soon, theyre probably gonna come out before the change series ends tbh sorrry :(((
— 20. Bodyguard! Caitlyn Kiramman x President's Daughter! F Reader I Drabble
Warnings : Cait receiving, condescending praise, SMUT MDNI (idk if they actually wear ear pieces, and oh my god another violation of work ethics)
You pride yourself on the architecture of your composure: the razor-sharp line of your spine, the practiced tilt of your chin, the way your hands rest like heavy marble against your hips. Beside your father, under the blinding heat of a thousand camera flashes, you are less a woman and more a monument. But as the President’s voice drones on, a low, tectonic thrum begins to vibrate at the base of your skull.
You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, a tiny fracture in the statue. Shivers, unbidden and electric, coil from your hips and race up the ladder of your vertebrae, raising goosebumps in its wake.
Then, the static of your ear piece hisses—a sharp, intimate intake of breath delivered directly into your inner ear.
“Look at you. Poor, desperate thing. Trying so hard to hold it together.”
The voice is posh, dripping with the kind of upper-class cruelty that feels like a velvet noose. It’s Caitlyn.
Your eyes narrow into slits, a silent curse screaming behind your teeth. You hate her for this—for the psychological siege she’s laying while you’re pinned under the national gaze.
“I can’t wait to taste you,” she murmurs, the words yearning and heavy. A pause follows, long enough for the image to take root in your gut, followed by a low, devastatingly smug giggle. “All these people, all these lenses... and I’m the only one who knows how wet you are under that silk. So prim and fucking proper.”
Your brow twitches. Your gaze sweeps the room, cutting through the sea of suits until you find her. She’s stationed by the heavy mahogany doors. Her hair is scraped back into a bun so tight it looks painful; her face is a mask of passive, professional boredom. To the world, she is a weapon in a blazer. To you, she is a predator watching her prey.
“That million-dollar face,” she whispers, her voice dropping an octave, vibrating against your eardrum until your knees feel like jelly. “I’d kill to see it between my legs right now. That’s a face made to be ridden, don't you think?”
A fresh surge of heat crashes into your pussy.. Your hand bunches into a fist, knuckles white, as the heel of your stiletto taps a frantic, agonizing rhythm against the marble floor. You’re sweating now—a fine, shimmering sheen on your forehead that the cameras will mistake for the heat of the lights.
Just so you fucking wait until this is finished. You thought.
By 10 PM, the "First Daughter" has been stripped away, leaving only a frantic mess of rumpled silk and pleated wool on the satin sheets. The gala was a marathon of botoxed smiles and velvet-glove handshakes; now, the only thing that matters is the weight of Caitlyn straddling your hips.
Caitlyn moves with the efficiency of an officer taking what’s hers. She grinds her wetness directly against the skin of your stomach, her eyebrows drawn together in a look of focused pleasure. Her hands are heavy on your chest, pinning you, using your body as a high-end toy to get herself off.
“It feels too fucking good—fuck,” she rasps, her posh accent staggering, broken by hot, jagged breaths.
You arch your back, your hips canting upward, desperately grinding against thin air. You’re chasing the ghost of her touch, but she keeps you just out of reach, forcing you to watch her take from you.
“I wonder what the press would think,” she whispers, leaning down until her breath ghosts over your damp skin. Her hips roll, slow and agonizingly deliberate. “Your bodyguard using the President’s daughter like a piece of furniture. Think of the scandal. All that dignity, wasted on me.”
“Cait—please. I’ve been wanting you all night,” you beg, your voice a ragged shadow of your public persona. Your hands roam blindly over her body, your cold fingers finding the hard, pebble-peaks of her nipples.
She doesn’t give in. Instead, she hooks a hand under your knee, hiking your leg over her shoulder to expose your wet pussy completely. She shifts, grinding her clit directly against yours in a slick, bruising slide of friction.
A moan tears from your throat, but she smothers it, her mouth crashing onto yours. Her teeth clash against yours, a brutal claim.
“Keep it down,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice heavy with authority. “You don’t want the maids to hear how loud you get for me, do you? I’m your dirty little secret, remember?”
“No—Cait, you’re not a secret—ah, fuck—” You’re babbling now, the facade of the poised socialite left in fragments on the floor. “I’ll let them know. I’ll tell everyone I’m yours—I promise—fuck, Cait, ride my face. Please.”
She doesn’t offer a verbal reply. She knows you won’t. There’s a dull ache that rests beneath her ribs but she simply shifts, positioning her hips over your mouth. Your high-end lip gloss is already smudged across your chin, a mark of her ownership. Your next moan is muffled entirely as she presses her wet, swollen pussy lips against your tongue.
She doesn't ask; she takes. You work for her now, your tongue tracing the slick heat of her while she grinds down, chasing her high with a ruthless, rhythmic pressure.
Caitlyn’s face scrunches, her head falling back as the pleasure racks her. There’s a dark, addictive thrill in the indignity of it—the way a powerful woman in the country is currently nothing but a mess of smudged mascara and her wetness. Down here, behind the marble molding and the locked doors, you aren't an asset to be protected. You’re just a slut for her, and God, she makes you feel it.
needy!caitlyn who always puts on lingerie when you come home. The poor thing is exhausted from work, and all she needs is your attention while batting her eyelashes up at you constantly while flaunting the sapphire material kissing her curves.
needy!caitlyn who always has wet dreams of you sucking feverishly on her clit. These dreams haunt her throughout the day like a fog that never settled, making her clit ache against her panties all day.
needy!caitlyn who will rest her head upon your lap until you touch her. Sometimes you spite her, ignoring the way her lips press into a hardened frown, while your lips curl upwards as she begins to whine against you.
needy!caitlyn who wears her dignity deep within her heart until it’s time to go home to you. She’s such a pathetic little mess for you, and her cunt throbs all day from the thought of being away from you. She just can’t help it.
needy!caitlyn who always spreads herself wide for you. She wants to show you what a mess she’s made of herself, all the while your eyes gauge her pretty pussy that’s stretched out from her fingers holding herself open. Her swollen clit. Her sticky folds with residue clinging to them. Her hole clenching around nothing. The sight was enough to make your knees ail.
needy!caitlyn who can’t help but masturbate when she’s home alone. You’ve made her spoiled, and it’s embarrassing. But what’s even more embarrassing is her mirror kink, watching her own fingers drag down into her sopping pussy while she watches her clit being pushed under her own, trembling fingers that collect her cum before sucking them. It’s not like you missed this view; she always sends videos to you while doing it.
needy!caitlyn who gets turned on from the littlest things. You graze past her once while cooking dinner? Suddenly she’s wanting to be bent over, begging to be filled with her cunt on display against the counter.
needy!caitlyn who can’t get enough of your tongue lapping up at her folds. She’s always pushing and pulling into you, trying to mold you against her forever.
needy!caitlyn who becomes a brat when she’s exhausted from a day at work and sexually frustrated after you’ve teased her for too long. You always tease her about her poor self control, and she couldn’t help but fold on the second day of trying to prove you wrong while she’s begging for you to fuck her sweet little hole.
needy!caitlyn who could be milked for days with the way her pussy engulfs your strap entirely.
needy!caitlyn who loves being praised deep down about her intelligence. Like a dog piteously waiting with patience that seldom waited for anyone, she would wait for your affectionate remarks to move forward with her day.
needy!caitlyn who begs to eat your pussy. You’re convinced she’s addicted to being on her knees, moaning against your clit while trying to rub her own against the sheets. It was always an erotic sight.
needy!caitlyn who gets jealous just as easy as getting turned on. Someone looks at you the wrong way? She’s sending them a glare like her life depended on it. However, behind closed doors? She’s pleading for you to show her she’s yours and you’re hers.
needy!caitlyn who you believe could cockarm you for decades. She’s obsessed with letting her pussy squelch around your strap while she’s trying to put the pieces together in her investigation. Whether that he at her desk, on the floor, in the living room, she wants your strap all the time, wiggling about on it.
needy!caitlyn who acts all uptight until it’s her turn to get fucked into the mattress. She’s been a bitch all day, ordering words like she owns the ground with every step she took. But maybe, all she needed and wanted was just you to calm her down.
needy!caitlyn who has very strict routines you can’t disturb. For example, if she wants your mouth making out sloppily with her pussy at 4pm? She’s getting exactly that.
needy!caitlyn who is addicted to you like an caffeine addict. She needs you in every way possible.
needy!caitlyn who loves your hands kneading and playing with her breasts. She loves your nimble fingers gently pinch at her nipples that harden underneath, loves watching you suck on them—leaving her all hot and bothered.
needy!caitlyn who relishes in you making her suck your fingers of her juices.
needy!caitlyn who sometimes doesn’t wear panties at all just to tease you and work herself up. You always find it amusing how she tries to act nonchalant even if there’s already a wet patch forming on her shorts.
needy!caitlyn who loves you inspecting her. The quick touches. The direct gaze on her pussy. She felt all exposed and bubbly inside when it happened, pushing her hips forward in retaliation while her hole leaned beneath onto the sheets.
needy!caitlyn who can’t sleep without your fingers softly fingering her into induced sleep.
needy!caitlyn who craves your affection and attention all the time. Your love for her is unwavering, and she can’t help but find a home in that.