cw: 2.7K words | forbidden love, 18+ mdni, smut with a hint of angst, fingering, oral sex, implied scissoring, top!Caitlyn, mommy kink, praise kink, my first time writing smut so I apologize!
Head up, eyes bright, graceful walk, sweet smile.
Those are the words that repeat in your head over and over again like a broken record as you enter the ballroom. The Kiramman ballroom, to be exact: one of the grandest rooms in the Piltover palace. The scene is breathtaking: chandeliers emitting a warm glow over the room that’s filled with expensive champagne and linen tablecloths and gold trimmings along the walls. A picture of elegance and grace that perfectly matches the Kiramman royal family.
You walk as gracefully as you can into the center of the ballroom to mingle with guests, bowing slightly and introducing yourself with a last name that always seems to catch people’s attention. You’re a Piltover noble, that much is clear. A pretty one at that: dressed in a baby pink, floor length gown that hugs your torso and chest just right, trailing into silk that parts in a slit up past your knee. Carefully chosen accessories, styled hair: you’re the picture of grace.
After a few minutes of mingling with the other nobles in attendance, Mel finds you easily. “There you are!” She exclaims, gold flecks dusting her cheeks. “I thought I missed you; you took so long to join the party!”
Relief sweeps through you at the familiar face. “Sorry,” you sigh, adjusting your hair over your shoulder. “I was helping the princess get ready, and it ran a little late. I had to rush my own getting ready afterwards.”
“Ah, of course, my favorite lady-in-waiting,” Mel laughs airily. “How else would the Kiramman princess survive? And you look stunning, by the way; I’ve seen more than a few guys eyeing you since you came in.”
“I’m just happy I look composed” you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes, surrounded by important guests. “These shoes hurt like a bitch.”
“Yeah, well,” Mel’s lips quirk into a mischievous smile. “It must be working because there’s one person who hasn’t taken her eyes off you since you walked in.”
Oh.
Your stomach churns a little as you follow Mel’s glance behind you, to the front of the ballroom where the royal family is standing. Or, more specifically, the Kiramman princess: Caitlyn. Navy hair combed out and hitting her mid-back, with a simple navy gown to match. Her posture perfect and poised as always. But through her polite smile at the nobles that greet her, her icy-blue eyes were focused elsewhere: you.
You try to suppress the wave of heat that goes through you. You know those eyes. You see them every day, had zipped up her dress and clasped her necklace around her neck not even an hour ago. A usual everyday task for you as her lady in-waiting, it might seem, but you still have your moments of your cheeks flushing pink. How can you not? It’s Caitlyn. She must have been destined to be a princess, to be admired by millions with her Gods-given beauty.
In this moment, though, you only let yourself lock eyes with her for a second before you’re turning back to Mel. “Um, yeah,” you blink, desperately hoping your carefully applied blush covers your flushed cheeks. “She, uh, recommended this dress to me, so she probably just noticed I ended up wearing it.”
Mel nods, seemingly dropping the topic, though there’s a hint of knowing in her raised eyebrows. “Right. Anyways, I’ll find you later. Wanted to say hi before I grab more champagne.” She squeezes your arm and flashes you a smile before she disappears into the crowd.
Now alone, you’re thrown right back into the scene of music and ballgowns and a few too many overly nice men. You smile sweetly, making polite conversation. What’s a lovely lady like you doing by yourself? You look beautiful. Are you really the lady in-waiting for Princess Caitlyn?
You can only take so much of the same conversations, the same flirtatious glances and smooth offers to dance. You’re knee-deep in another exchange with some noble man from Noxus, who thinks he’s being way more charming than he is, when you feel a presence behind you. And, when you see the man go wide-eyed, you have a pretty good idea of who it is.
“Excuse me,” Caitlyn’s posh accent rings from behind you. “I was wondering if I might steal my lady in-waiting for a moment?”
“O-Oh! Yes, of course, Princess,” the man stutters, hastily managing a bow and backing away — to find another girl to hit on, most likely. You turn to face Caitlyn, tilting your head upward to meet her gaze. Damn, she’s tall.
“If you’ll come with me,” her formalities don’t falter once as she gently takes hold of your arm, steering you towards a less-crowded corner of the ballroom. It’s inherently obvious that you don’t really have a choice.
Caitlyn lets go of your arm once in the corner, and you take the moment to adjust your dress, fluffing it out a bit. Her eyes follow the movement. “Having fun?” She asks, her voice calm and unwavering.
“Ah, you know,” you sigh, tilting your head. “Greeting everyone.”
“Mm.” Her hand makes its way back to your arm, tracing lightly over your skin. “Any suitors catch your eye?”
Her words are posed as an innocent question, but you know her too well to believe it. Her hand’s motions don’t cease, and you can’t help a half-smile. “Possessive,” you mumble, so soft that Caitlyn might not have heard it if she wasn’t so focused on your every breath.
She hums in response. “Can you blame me? Some of the men are a little too handsy. More than what’s appropriate for a ball.”
Again, you fight the instinctive roll of your eyes. “Sure.”
The reply causes Caitlyn to step forward, eyes just slightly narrowed. “Don’t sass me,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your ear.
“Then don’t lie to me.”
“Fair,” Caitlyn’s laugh is quiet, her hand falling to your waist. “So what if I want my lady in-waiting all to myself?” The emphasis on the word my isn’t lost on you. Admittedly, you don’t mind it. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing?” You ask, blinking your wide eyes up at her with a slight furrow of your eyebrows. And oh, Caitlyn’s weak to your innocent expression. She has to bite the inside of her cheek to suppress the urge to kiss it off your face.
She lets out another hum, if a little more breathy this time. “Darling,” her voice is hushed. Now it’s your turn to go weak at the pet name falling from her lips in that hot-as-fuck accent of hers. “You know how I feel about you in pink. And with the slit? Are you trying to get me to lose it at my own ball?”
Well. You really don’t know how to respond to her accusation given that it’s true. So you just toss your hair behind your shoulder, glancing around at the crowded ballroom. “How unofficial for a princess.”
“I wouldn’t tease,” Caitlyn warns, moving behind you so her breath ghosts over the back of your neck. She doesn’t miss the gooseflesh that springs up at the contact, and she has to bite back a smirk. To anyone in attendance at the ball, it would just look like she’s fixing your dress. Her plan, you suppose.
You swallow, keeping your eyes trained on the opposite wall of the ballroom. So no one will suspect anything, you tell yourself. Definitely not because it makes you straighten up a little more and listen to every word she says when she uses that authoritative tone of hers.
“Hm,” Caitlyn lets a hint of a smug smile grace her features as she moves again, this time in front of you so your gazes lock. “I suppose I’ll see you later.” She leaves you with a brush of your hands before drifting off to rejoin Cassandra, Piltover’s queen and her mother.
You’re frozen for a moment, unsure of your next move. After a few seconds, you blink rapidly to compose yourself before moving over to take a glass of the champagne Mel had mentioned earlier. You really need a drink.
I------» ~~~ «------I
“Gods,” you exhale shakily as your body’s practically slammed against a wall. The precaution is a pale hand that cradles the back of your head, shielding it from hurt.
Caitlyn noses into the corner of your jaw as a silent apology before her mouth drops, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your throat. The scent of her shampoo floods your senses — some kind of flower, maybe?
It’s been maybe an hour since the ball’s end, and you had come to check on Caitlyn before going to bed for the night. Though, not before stopping by your room to freshen up. Your guess had been proven right when she had opened her bedroom door at the first sound of your knock, yanking you inside with zero hesitation. She had been waiting for her chance, it seemed.
You can’t help another breathy sigh as her lips find your pulse point, sucking the sensitive skin into her mouth in a way that makes your hands find her shoulders, squeezing gently. “No marks,” you breathe, and you can feel Caitlyn’s annoyed huff against your neck.
“Why can’t I just mark what I want?” She presses another hot kiss to your pulse. She’s almost like a child, pouting over things she can’t have. But it’s not either of your doings.
You can’t say anything to that because, if it had been your decision, you would have let her paint your neck with her love bites long ago. Caitlyn, too, seems to notice your tension, and she lifts her head back up. “You’re thinking too much,” she murmurs, her nose brushing against yours. “Don’t.”
Any reply dies on your tongue as Caitlyn kisses you with a fiery passion, presses of lips turning into the strokes of her tongue into your mouth. Her knee finds its way between your thighs, even with both of you still adorning your long dresses. You gasp, but she swallows it, continuing to kiss you deeply like she’s been wanting to for hours.
“Still worked up from earlier?” Her mouth breaks from yours, lips twisting into a lazy smirk.
Your cheeks flush with a pink hue, and you glare at her. You both had gotten more than a little distracted when you had helped her get ready for the ball, ending with heated kisses and grinding that did little to relieve your ache for her. “Don’t tease.”
“Mm, you’re telling me what to do now?” All it takes is an arch of Caityn’s eyebrows and your gaze drops from hers.
“Sorry,” you mumble, conceding by leaning up to kiss her jaw. Though, when you see the muscle flex, you feel a sense of satisfaction rush through you. She’s not as immune to you as she might pretend. That much is clear when she tugs you over to her bed, bringing you to straddle her lap.
“You’re making me crazy,” Caitlyn mouths at your collarbone, her hand sliding up the slit of your dress to squeeze your thigh. “I hated everyone looking at you. You’re mine to look at.”
“Ah,” you sigh, running a hand through her now-messy navy hair, the locks tangling in your fingers. “Everyone’s looking at you, Princess.”
Caitlyn’s icy eyes flash at your emphasis of her title, and before you know it, she’s flipped you onto you back on her bed, one of her hands pinning both of yours above your head. “That’s not what you call me when we’re alone.”
“Cait-"
“Nope,” she tightens her grip on your wrists as punishment. “Try again.”
“Mommy-"
“There we go,” Caitlyn coos, letting your hands free and trailing her perfectly manicured nails down your arms. “Now, why don’t we get you out of this dress, hm?”
She’s tugging at the zipper of your dress before you can even respond, and you arch your back — half to give her more access and half because this all feels so good that you crave more. More of this, more of her.
And when Caitlyn tosses the fabric to the floor without sparing a glance at it, you swear the look in her eyes is predatory as she stares at you in your lingerie. “Beautiful,” she breathes, like she hasn’t seen you before, and you feel a wave of heat straight down to your core.
“You knew I’d do this,” Caitlyn accuses, making quick work of slipping off your bra and panties. More specifically, the navy set that's her favorite of your lingerie. She claims it’s because the color suits you, but you know better. You know it’s because she likes you in her color: a silent claim on you. “You wore this knowing I’d want to fuck you.”
“You want to fuck me?” You question in mock-surprise, though immediately regret teasing her when she tangles your hair in her fist and angles your face up to meet hers.
“What was that?” Caitlyn’s voice is strict, composed even as her other hand grips your hip so hard you’re sure it’ll bruise.
“Nothing,” you’re quick to assure, because if you sass her, Caitlyn won’t let you come. And gods, you want to come. She’s already worked you up so much that your thighs are slick with anticipation.
“And?”
You bite the inside of your cheek. “‘m sorry, Mommy.”
“Good,” she releases your hair to move down your body and you hate how much wetter you get at the smallest of praise. “Now, be a darling and spread your legs.”
Your thighs fall open at the order, and you don’t have to see Caitlyn’s face to feel the smug pride radiating off her. She presses her thumb to your swollen clit and coos at the strangled gasp you let out. “I- please,” you whimper, pleading for any kind of relief.
But Caitlyn, though very sweet and attentive, is just a little bit mean, too. So she teases her fingers along your soaked slit, not giving you the penetration you desire. “What do you want, love? Fingers, tongue-?”
“Anything,” you whine because it feels like she’s been baiting you forever now, if only a few minutes.
“So desperate for me” Caitlyn smirks teasingly as her gaze meets yours, but gives in all the same, plunging two fingers into you. Because she loves it — loves how badly you need her. She starts slow, but eventually builds up speed when you whimper in protest.
“Oh,” you mewl, fisting at her sheets when she angles her fingers upwards to meet that sweet spot inside you that dissolves you into pure pleasure. “Oh, please, I need-"
“Shh, I know,” Caitlyn soothes, her other hand on your thigh surprisingly gentle, a contrast to the rapid thrusts of her fingers. And she does. She’s so in-tuned to your needs, knows exactly how you like to be touched after months of secret affairs that no one in the palace would suspect.
With that, her lips wrap around your aching clit and suck, tongue teasing your most sensitive nerves as her fingers continue their rough motions inside you. You let out a squeal of pleasure, immediately clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle your noises. But Caitlyn doesn’t let up in her relentless stimulation, and it doesn’t take long for you to keen into your palm as you come around her fingers.
She helps you through your release, letting your hips angle against her mouth as your orgasm racks through your body, before she gently slips her fingers out. You shakily prop yourself up on your elbows and god, you could come again just from the dark look in her icy eyes as she looks up at you from between your thighs. “Fuck, Caitlyn.”
“You’re not done, you know,” Caitlyn murmurs, smiling all the same as she moves up your body to kiss you.
“I know,” you mumble against her lips, reaching up to tug her hips down to meet yours. Caitlyn hisses, shifting to slip off her own lingerie before pressing her dripping core against yours. “Wanna stay like this forever.”
And, as she descends upon you once again, the brief thought enters your mind that you really hope you get to stay like this forever. Even if forever is only until the sun comes up.
Ugh. Need her.
As said, this is my first time writing smut so...I hope it didn't suck? Thank you sm for all the love and support on my writing in the month-ish I've been on here! Sending love to everyone <3
I'm just finding your account and I love how talented you are!!!
By requests open, do you mean I could send you a blurb of my late night fascinations and you'd wrote them?
Again love your work. 🥹
yes!! well kinda LOL
soo basically requests are: you can leave whatever you'd like (as long as it's respectful) in my inbox and i MAY write it. i do have a lot of requests and i do not always feel inspired to write them (as i have many of my own ideas as well), so it's a request bc it's more of a maybe/maybe not, if that makes sense. i feel bad if i do not write every request, but please know that it does not have anything to do with if i like the idea!! it just depends on the writing i want to put out, bc writing is time consuming and a hobby, and part of my hobby is i never want to lose the joy of something i love, as then it would become more of a job
that being said, please feel free to send me whatever requests you'd like!! thank you for liking my work <3
yk how Gehlee (a famous idol) shipped herself with Jax from TADC so much so that the ship got popular and his VA followed her? she basically won. and my goal is now to get so famous that i can ship myself with Caitlyn Kiramman and Katie Leung (her VA) follows me. therefore i win Caitlyn.
cw: 700 words | sfw, girly girl!reader, briefly mentioned ex!Vi
She's kinda obsessed with you.
You're so different from her, all bright colors and soft tones, softness that contrasts her sharp facial features. Your sun meets her moon, and she wishes she could stop her gaze from drifting across the plaza to where you're giggling with your friends. So sweet, so endearing, and it's like Caitlyn's a child entranced by her first crush again.
She insists on courting you properly. She brings you gifts: daisies from a meadow she had passed on her way to meet you, chocolates from the expensive local shops, a stuffed bunny that looks remarkably like you. When you squeal and thank her profusely, a thin layer of pink coating your cheeks, Caitlyn preens a little internally. She's quite pleased at the praise, at the knowledge that she can care for someone she loves. Besides gifts, she does things properly. She walks you home, takes your hand (just to lead you through crowded streets, obviously), holds the door open.
Caitlyn is obsessed with your style. She will walk behind you purposefully to admire your short skirts swishing from behind. When you start dating, she buys you carts of clothes. Caitlyn's never been keen on shopping, but now, she's eagle-eyed for what she'd like to see you wear. Knee-high socks with lace edges, sheer tights, a dainty locket with a photo of you two inside. Passes them off with "Oh, but darling, you would look sooo pretty in them. Just try them on, please?"
Speaking of looks, she goes insane on lip glosses and lip tints. Will insist on putting them on you so she can see which ones she should buy more of, but really, it's just so she can have an excuse to cradle your face in her hands and kiss the gloss off your lips. She needs to see which ones last after all the kisses, right?
Admittedly, you're a little worried upon finding out how masc her ex (Vi) is. After all, how could she be so into you when she was just into someone that looks like the opposite of you?
Caitlyn is quick to reassure such silly thoughts, pressing kisses to each of your cheeks and soothing you in that stupidly-posh accident. "Oh no, darling, why does it matter who I've been with? Who I'm dating right now shows you all you need to know about my preferences. Both your heart and your style cannot be compared to."
Caitlyn's even more possessive than she's ever been. Something about you makes her want to bundle you in bubble wrap and stash you away in her bedroom. She's far too aware when the two of you are at a bar and a nearby person's eyes start wandering. Icy-blue eyes combined with an icy-cold glare put a stop to any curious strangers.
You slowly invade her bedroom. Strictly navy and deep purple color schemes become a lot lighter when you start spending the night. More pillows, more fluffy throw blankets, a few stuffed animals that Caitlyn won you at a carnival — it's all on Caitlyn's bed. Polaroid photos of the two of you are taped up to Caitlyn's wall, and she lets you write captions in sharpie underneath the photos. Six-month anniversary with my beloved ♡
You are Caitlyn's pretty princess that can do no wrong. You want to sit pretty on her lap? No problem, the Council and other staff can deal with it during meetings. You want to go out to a nice dinner? Caitlyn's pushing her unanswered emails off to her assistant. You want to buy a cute sundress that you see in a store window? Well, Caitlyn has a limitless credit card with endless fortune to back it. Who is she to deny you?
Caitlyn doesn't mind any of it; loves it, actually. She desires to make her loved ones, especially romantic partners, feel loved and cared for. She'll go to any length to ensure that you feel like her princess (you are). After all, she's kinda obsessed with you.
bonus 1: Caitlyn's first crush was 100% Mel, and she has always had that girly style (hyperfemme, for lesbians) taste.
bonus 2: you know that tiktok trend of guys being obsessed with women in sundresses? Caitlyn is 100% on that side of tiktok and has an entire save folder of videos to send you later in hopes that you'll make your own for her to drool over stare at when you're not together. She always forgets, then silently curses herself later.
Hi sweeties!! University is crazy sometimes so I've been writing on-and-off, but I am still VERY much obsessed with Arcane (especially Caitlyn), so don't worry!!!
Written bc I'm hyperfemme. Shouout to my hyperfemme girlies, and my very girly girls <3
sorry my loves, it's finals week at my uni and it's been so chaotic. i also have been dealing with writers' block :(
i'll drop something in the next week or so!! i have some ideas but don't want to promise any specific one bc i am not sure what i'll want to write first. thank you for your patience loves!!! <3
how do u think cait will react if u decide to propose? could u pls do a fic or headcanojs on that please shes so adorable
i loveeee the way u write her too ur the best!! 💋💋
Hi love!! I have bride!Caitlyn hcs that you can see for what I think Caitlyn would be like when getting married. But here's a little something for your specific proposal scenario:
If you decide to propose to her, honestly, Caitlyn would be a little miffed. She's always had a competitive spirit, and she dislikes that she wasn't the first to plan a grand display of love and ask you to be hers forever. She likes spoiling those she loves. She has endless amounts of money, luxury, and status at her disposal — why wouldn’t she? It’s unfair, really. She already had your ring picked out and everything.
She would, however, beam with happiness as soon as she gets over her pride. After all, a lifetime with you is what she really wants. She doesn't pay the details too much mind. She accepts the second you get the words out, of course; and Caitlyn never happy-cries, but you swear you can see a shine in her icy-blue stare that wasn't there before.
Caitlyn's also never been one for showing off, but now that she has your ring? It's basically an extension of showing off you. She leans over the table casually when she has a meeting, letting her ring gleam from the overhead light. Never having paid attention to her nails before (she isn't one to focus on such minor, frivolous beauty standards), they're done consistently now. A simple, classy navy blue that matches her hair and her wardrobe. You catch her admiring how they look next to the ring. The ring itself is pretty: a thin, silver band with a single square-shaped diamond. Elegant, but lowkey enough to match Caitlyn's simple and efficient style. She loves it. She never takes it off — if only very quickly while she washes the dishes, in which case, she immediately slips it back on. She's not taking any chances.
Summary: After years of fame as Piltover's biggest pop star, you finally meet Caitlyn Kiramman, the nation's most beloved actress. When she agrees to star in your music video, you finally understand why she steals so many hearts — and why she's starting to steal your own.
cw: 2.7K words | sfw, actress!Caitlyn and pop star!reader, suggestive language, kissing, mutual pining, protective!Caitlyn
You meet Caitlyn at an awards show.
Piltover’s biggest music awards show makes headlines every year. It’s a whole production: a fancy theatre, a huge audience, golden trophies that every singer dreams of taking home. And you, Piltover's rising global pop star, are no exception.
Now one of the biggest singers in Piltover, your popularity has been skyrocketing as you drop album after album, singing and charming the fans with your kind heart and creative mind. You had once been a young teenager, desperate to make your dreams come true as you wrote and recorded songs on your bedroom floor. Now? You stand in front of thirty cameras, adorned in a dress that costs more than your rent, your heels sinking into the red carpet beneath you.
“Hey! Look over here! Do a pose! Say ‘hi’ to your fans!”
Smile. Pose. Blow a kiss or a wink to make the fans go crazy.
The routine as per usual.
You stay on the carpet for maybe thirty minutes, posing for photos and engaging in polite interviews, before you move up the stairs and into the theater for the awards.
There are tables scattered around the venue, each topped with pristine silverware and napkins. Trays of small bites of food are carried around, served by waiters with nervous eyes and shaky hands — especially when they meet you. Who can blame them? You’re a gold-star singer, as much as you don’t always feel like one.
You reach the table where your name is written in neat cursive: a small table in the front, with a perfect view for the cameras to catch your every reaction. You lift your dress — long, silky, and crimson red — to sit gingerly in your chair. There’s another name tag in front of the other chair at the table, but it’s facing away from you. You don’t bother to read it.
You busy yourself on your phone as you wait for the other guests to come in and the ceremony to start. You scroll through post after post that flood your social media: all talking about how beautiful you look, how cute you are in interviews, messaging you ‘good luck.’ You scroll and scroll, getting lost in opinions before someone clears their throat beside you.
When you glance up, icy blue eyes meet yours.
“Excuse me, but I think I’m your seatmate tonight.”
Posh-accented words fall from pretty lips, and there’s no mistaking that stare. Caitlyn Kiramman, one of the most famous actresses in all of Runeterra. She makes appearances in all the best movies, and her sharp features and stunning visuals land her countless magazine covers. Once called a nepo-baby, now one of the most respected professionals.
Everyone who has met Caitlyn has only the best things to say about her. Kind, intelligent, professional, beautiful. She has an aura of class that follows her, and it’s not just because her mother is a Piltovian councilwoman. That’s just Caitlyn — that’s just who she is.
Yet, very few actually know her. She’s a famously private person.
Now, Caitlyn stands before you, wrapped in a navy, silken pantsuit with a ribbon wrapped around the waist. She’s always been pretty, nicknamed one of the most insane facecards in the industry, but something about her is especially alluring tonight. At 6’1,” she’s noticeably taller than you.
“Oh, yes!” You respond without thinking, smiling on instinct. “It’s so good to finally meet you. I’ve seen so many of your movies.”
Caitlyn laughs as she draws out her chair and faces you, folding her hands politely on the table. Perfect manners. “Oh, I’m glad. Maybe it means I’m doing something right, if I’m known by my favorite artists.”
“Your—?“ You blink in surprise. In your momentary daze, you had almost forgotten who you are. Still, it would shock anyone to be known by Caitlyn Kiramman, much less be favored by her. “I’m one of your favorites?”
Caitlyn nods, a singular eyebrow raised as her gaze locks with yours. “Is it so shocking that I like pop music?”
You falter. “Well, uh, yes?”
Caitlyn breaks a smile at that, and you feel your muscles automatically lose some tension. Already, you feel a little less starstruck, and Caitlyn seems a little less like the face you’ve only seen on TV. “I suppose it is. But yes, you and Seraphine are my favorites. I swear I’ve been to one of your concerts before, maybe a year ago?”
Oh, you know.
You had seen it flooding your feed when she had attended your concert. Endless photos were posted of Caitlyn, dressed in all black with a baseball hat covering her face, watching you perform from a discreet area. That had been your first shock, watching videos that fans had captured from your hotel room that night.
“Yeah,” your smile turns almost sheepish. “I saw that, actually. I was so surprised. You could have messaged me, you know, I would have given you better tickets.”
Caitlyn waves your concern off with her hand. “I didn’t want to bother I don’t mind getting a regular seat, as long as I can hear the music. That’s why I went, anyways, not for VIP treatment.”
“Is that why you’re here?” you gesture around the awards theatre, that’s slowly filling up with people finding their tables. The show is set to start in a few minutes. The awards are music-specific, so you have to wonder why a famous actress (who doesn’t sing) has made an appearance. “Because you want to see the performances?”
“Yes and no. That’s the main reason, but I was also asked to present an award. So I took the opportunity” Caitlyn sighs as she takes a champagne glass from a passing waiter. Your eyes train on her as she sips from the bubbling drink, gaze sliding from her lips down to her collarbone, before you realize your mistake and glance away.
“At least you get a break from the nerves,” you clear your throat, the room suddenly feeling too warm. “I always get nervous, no matter how many awards shows I’ve been to.”
“Don’t be,” Caitlyn sets her glass down and crosses one leg over the other, leaning back in her chair as if she’s studying you intently. “You have no reason to be nervous. You’re already incredible. The trophy is just a reminder of it.”
|------» ~~~ «------|
You meet Caitlyn for a second time a few weeks later.
You’re in the studio one day, discussing your upcoming album with your producer. Your songs are recorded, set, and good to go. Now it’s time to film the music video for your lead single. Your producer had suggested another actress for the romance plot of the video, and now, you’re staring at Caitlyn’s number in your phone.
“Just call her,” your producer says, already typing away on his laptop, drafting emails to send to the rest of your team. “You said she’s the best actress you know, right?”
“Yes,” you nod, but your stomach churns looking at her number. She had given it to you at the end of the awards show, right after congratulating you for winning best pop album. She had promised you could call her if you either needed an actress or just wanted to see her. Now? You weren’t sure which one it was.
Shaking the intrusive thoughts out of your mind, you tap call and hold your phone to your ear.
Caitlyn picks up on the third ring. “Hello,” she answers politely, accent clear through the speakers. “I’m glad you called.”
You pause for a moment, caught off guard. “You are?”
“Yes.”
Her simple answer hangs in the air, waiting until you continue. “I— I should probably have contacted your team about this, but I’m in the studio right now, and we need an actress for my music video. We’d film at the end of next week, and it would release next month. I know it’s sudden, and I’m not sure if you have other projects—“
“I’ll do it.” Again, Caitlyn answers simply. This time, she doesn’t wait for you to elaborate. “Just have your team send the details to mine, and I’m more than happy to help.”
“Oh,” you blink, genuinely shocked by how easy this was. You had expected her to take some time, to tell you she’s busy, to ask more questions. Instead? Nothing. Just acceptance, willingness — even if her professional tone is difficult to read sometimes. “Okay. Yes, I’ll do that. Thank you so much.”
“Of course,” Caitlyn responds, and you can hear some shuffling in the background. “I’ll see you then.”
And with that, she hangs up, and you’re left staring at the black screen of your phone in pleased confusion.
|------» ~~~ «------|
The day of the shoot arrives quickly, and you get to set in sunglasses and matching pink sweats. You’re immediately rushed into hair and makeup, scrolling idly on your phone and tilting your head every time your makeup artist instructs you to.
You meet Caitlyn two hours later, in front of the cameras set up by a fancy pool. The first location is filmed here, capturing all the summer vibes that fans will love. Your first shot is you in a sundress, elbow propped up on a lounge chair, lip-syncing your own lyrics as you look admiringly off camera. Then, it switches to Caitlyn, seemingly oblivious to your stare.
And I— I’m just falling in too deep
Need you so, can barely breathe
You film until the sun starts to set, marking the near-end of the first day of filming. “We’re going to film the last scene now,” the director instructs. “Because you’ll both need to be in the pool for this. We didn’t want you to be wet for the other shots.”
You nod in agreement, but your stomach is in knots. You know what the last scene is: a kiss shared in the pool with the water aglow from the sunset’s light. It will be beautiful, a perfect end to the video.
It’s just…
Although you haven’t known Caitlyn for long, the idea of kissing her feels different to the other few actresses you’ve kissed in past videos. Those were just friendly pecks, easily laughed off when the video finished, and done without any feeling. You aren’t quite sure what it is, exactly, but something about Caitlyn makes your nerves flare.
Caitlyn, meanwhile, looks absolutely unfazed. She sits by the edge of the pool, long legs dangling into the water. The sunset makes her look more beautiful, if that’s possible, blue eyes radiant in the light. She’s got the whole world in the palm of her hand, and now, you’re starting to realize that includes you.
Oh, you’re so fucked.
You carefully slide into the water, grimacing as the cold meets your skin. Caitlyn doesn’t flinch when she follows, but she smiles at the sight of your discomfort, almost amused. “Come on, we have to film before the sun sets,” she calls, a teasing lilt to her voice.
“Yeah, I know,” you grumble, already floating towards her. She catches you mid-way, adjusting her arms around your waist and gently pulling you through the water until you’re up against her. And oh, you know it’s just for the shot, but it’s undeniably attractive.
“Don’t worry,” she mumbles lowly as the crew sets up the camera. “I’ll keep you warm.”
Your cheeks flush, and it’s not just from the sun.
When the director yells action a moment later, you slip back into the scene, steadying your hands on Caitlyn’s shoulders as the last lines of the song play. Your slide your hands from her shoulders to wrap your arms around her neck, and Caitlyn’s affectionate gaze is so vivid that you let yourself pretend it’s real. When she kisses you, it’s so natural that those few moments feel like eternity.
You’re only snapped out of it when the director yells cut, and even then, Caitlyn leaves you with a soft bite to your lower lip. It’s almost teasing, even playful — something you hadn’t expected from her. And when your eyes open to meet hers, you find that the affection is still present in her eyes.
You’re rushed into a towel, then into your normal clothes, reset back to an ordinary look before you’re allowed to grab your bag and leave. It’s only then that you can fully process the day, the shoot, the kiss. Singers kiss actors all the time for their music videos; it’s not big deal.
Except it is a big deal. Because you’ve just kissed Caitlyn Kiramman, and if you’re being honest, you want to do it again.
“Hey!” Caitlyn’s voice echoes from behind you, and she jogs to catch up to you. “Planning on leaving without saying goodbye?”
“Sorry,” you tug on a stand of hair sheepishly, halting in your steps to face her. “I thought you had already left.”
“Well, I haven’t because I was wondering,” she pauses, as if searching for the right words. Caitlyn never hesitates, never second-guesses herself. Being sharp and well-spoken has been drilled into her ever since she was a child. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab takeout, or something. It’s late now, and I think we both need some food.”
Now it’s your turn to hesitate, looking up at her with widened eyes. “Ah— that sounds great, but are you sure? I know shooting can be tiring, so I don’t blame you if you want to rest.”
Caitlyn lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Maybe. But we’re already out, and I really don’t feel like cooking. I wouldn’t think you do, either.”
“No, I don’t,” you admit, already opening up a delivery app on your phone. “Do you want to just order something here, then?”
“Actually, I was thinking we could go back to my place,” Caitlyn offers, and you realize she’s already called a car to come pick her up. 2 minutes away. “Is that alright?”
Really, all you can do is nod. “Yeah. That’s okay.”
|------» ~~~ «------|
Caitlyn asks you out that same night.
Between boxes of Ionian takeout, a movie on the TV, and maybe another kiss, you agree with a mix of excitement and nerves. Dating isn’t a foreign concept in the world of fame, but you’ve never been with someone quite like Caitlyn. You aren’t sure you’re were prepared for the amount of attention you’d get.
But when Caitlyn threads her fingers through your hair and whispers reassurances as she holds you close, you can’t find it in your heart to worry much more.
The music video premieres along with the rest of your album the following week, and it explodes. It hits ten million views in the first twenty-four hours, and it’s reposted countless times across social media — especially the kiss that you and Caitlyn had shared.
It’s been two days and I’m still thinking about this
Where do I find someone who looks at me like that???
THEIR SMILES I AM ON THE FLOOR
It’s a lot. But you find that, when you’re with Caitlyn, none of those people seem to matter. You’re too busy looking at her, admiring her, pressing kisses to her jawline, whispering soft praises of how beautiful she is. The media reports fall on deaf ears: they’re the least important thing in your world right now.
People only go more insane when you’re spotted with her after the music video is released. In between promotions for your album, you’re going on dates: little outings at random cafés, taking walks along a trail near her apartment, fancy restaurants that have you dressing up. Caitlyn always guides you in with a hand on your lower back, slipping around to your hip teasingly. She’d be taking the dress off of you later.
Your songs become softer, more lovesick in a way that’s obvious to everyone around you. You perform in front of crowds, eyes always searching for Caitlyn in the crowd. Sometimes she can’t be there due to her own projects, but she’s in attendance a surprising amount. She keeps it discreet, always somewhere in the back, but fans always notice.
The media really loses it when the two of you start attending award shows together. It’s your first time officially declaring yourself as a couple to the public, and you smile for the many photographers that bombard you with ridiculous questions. Everyone turns their cameras in your direction, attempting to be the first article announcing your official relationship.
“When did you start dating?!”
“Caitlyn! Are you going to be in any more music videos?!”
“Are you writing songs about Caitlyn?!”
That’s the only question you choose to answer. You just smile sweetly at the photographer, the camera capturing the warm light in your eyes. “Always.”
When you finally leave the afterparty later that night, you lean against Caitlyn, too exhausted to socialize anymore. She brushes stray hairs from your forehead and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Don’t worry, darling. We’re going home.”
She keeps a firm grip on your arm as you leave the venue. Her arm comes up to shield you, blocking your face from the bright camera flashes, and preventing any more photos. She knows you well now. She knows when you’ve had enough, and damn it, she’s going to enforce it.
All of this feels like a distant memory when you’re curled against her chest at night, floating in and out of a dreamlike state. You’re torn between visions of the future, filled with Caitlyn joining you on stage for your upcoming tour, and the present moment. You inhale deeply, breathing in the scent of her floral perfume.
“What’re you thinking about?” Caitlyn murmurs in the dim lighting of her luxury apartment. She has one hand in your hair and the other stroking up and down your back. She smiles when she feels your breathing even out.
“Tour,” you mumble, eyes closed in sleepy content. It’s hard to care about much when you’re enveloped in her warmth and touch. “How I’ll miss you. How you can come on stage with me, make a special appearance.”
“Whatever you’d like,” Caitlyn hums, shifting slightly so she’s fully facing you. Her body melds into yours, naked under the sheets from previous activities. “I’ll take any excuse to be with you.”
“Even in front of an audience?”
She slides her hand from your back to your neck, fingers tracing the necklace she had given you. A gold chain with a singular initial: C.
“Especially in front of an audience.”
Inspired by the songs Fame is a Gun (Addison Rae) and Call It What You Want (Taylor Swift). Amaaaazing songs, so go listen!!
Also special shoutout to @shouyuus because I have been in love with their Vi x pop star!reader AU for the longest time. I'm sure some inspiration was taken from her AU as well because it's just so well written !!
I might be busy with life a lot, but writing brings me so much happiness. I might even bring back a some Vi content... but don't worry! Caitlyn Kiramman will always be my fixation <3
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