lassitude ;

lovergirl

[ki-starz]

kiki. 〃 aroace butch lesbian. she / he. woman obsessed. sagittarius sun. tired infinitely. lover of too much. scorpio moon + venus. intp. crybaby (terribly so.) gemini rising. sideblog for my smut 'cause i'm too embarrassed to post it on main.

𝒊. masterlist. 〃𝒊𝒊. inbox/requests; open. 〃𝒊𝒊𝒊. rules. 〃𝒊𝒗. wips.

recent works; soft!caitlyn. wife!ambessa.

fandoms: arcane, scream, the boys / genv, yellowjackets, sweetpea, challengers, resident evil.

my tag; kiki's .☘︎ ݁˖

main; @empthy0

[ki-starz]

I love your work!!! Especially the latest cate fic <3

thank you sweetheart <3

[ki-starz]

𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞?

summary ; it's really much too late for this, but that's never been a barrier truly stopped you. wc: 1.2k.

content ; t!fem cate, sorta sub!cate, afab!reader, blowjob (cate!receiving), masturbation (reader), riding, light overstim (cate!receiving).

“You’re going to fall asleep! I am not letting you.” It’s so late. You’re both sprawled out on the couch, watching reruns of that truly shitty show she likes. It really is terrible. You’re only here to lay with her—and perhaps get something else. 

She knows how exhausted you get by the end of the week; but instead of bids for cuddles and back rubs, you’re trying to schmooze your way into her pants. 

“C’mon.” She realizes, in this fleeting, dreaded moment, that it is not everything else wonderful about you—not your faith in her, nor your wonderful, easy trust, or the fact that you allow her bare fingertips to skim your skin—that your voice is her greatest weakness. It’s unfairly dulcet, even sleep-coated, curling in her ears and burrowing into her brain before she has any chance to resist or even process. “Let me. Let me suck you off. It’ll take like, five minutes.”

She’d be offended at your thoughts on her stamina—five minutes? really?—if it wasn’t uncomfortably accurate.

And it really doesn’t help that you’re guiding her down, cushioning your head on her thigh. That your hands are slipping just past the cotton’s flimsy hem, palms warming the skin, and she can feel your breath through the fabric. 

“You’ll fall asleep halfway through. And then what am I supposed to do?” Her justification falls into brattiness, a pout jutting her bottom lip. 

“I bet you’d love if I fell asleep with you in my mouth.” 

Those words, that visual that slams, double-pronged from both your minds, into the back of her eyelids makes her jolt. Your imagination is vivid. It’s so unfair. 

“Baby…” she whines, soft and tortured. Usually she sounds like this an orgasm or two in, not while she’s still soaking her shorts with pre. Another whine sounds, and, really, she’s just beating herself up over this at this point. “…please.”

“That’s my girl.” Her shorts disappear as you tug them down, falling to the floor while her panties dangle off of her ankle obscenely. The pink lace catches and stays, even as you drag her leg over your shoulder. Her dick, skinny and clean-shaven, sits flat and twitching against her abs—already leaking a milky pool on the dip in her navel. 

You blow a mouthful of breath over her just to hear the whine it rips from her throat. 

She’s devolved so quickly tonight. If you hadn’t spurred her right now, you’d surely wake at three, four in the morning to her whining around her fingers, palm pressed to the curving bulge in her shorts. At least if you do this now you won’t be too groggy to think. One of you has to, and god knows it’s never her.

She’s desperate enough to cup herself, to press her cock against your cheek for just that little bit of relief. 

“Please… please… please…” she whimpers, tapping herself against you weakly, dripping pre onto your skin. It makes you grin wide, replacing her hand with her own. Her back bows, hips twitching up into your palm. 

“Jesus. You’re so needy.” You tease, if only to hear how she sobs. She sobs harder when you part your lips and swallow around her. She’s not too long, sitting just before the end of your tongue—perfect for escaping that terrible gag reflex. Despite how good it feels for her, it’s really less than pleasant. Instead you swallow, and she twitches desperately into the stranglehold of your rippling throat with a whimpered “oh, fuck—”

Her hand pushes on your head—as if there’s anywhere for you to go. You reach up, interlinking your fingers instead, the hold pressed down into the plush cushions. She bucks in protest as you slip back just half-an-inch to take a breath, but whines like a dog when you descend and suckle at her. 

You’re treated to a beautiful chorus of “please, please, please—“, her begging louder than the television broadcasting that terrible show. You can hear her two-fold, just barely, the sound vibrating through her bones until you can feel it—all encompassing and wholly arousing. 

You reach back and slip one, two fingers past the hem of your shorts, the soaked-through fabric of your underwear carelessly shoved aside so you can sink your digits into your sopping cunt. Your resulting moan causes her face to scrunch up, the tightens of her eyes and mouth doing nothing to stop the whimpers vibrating behind her lips. 

She spills onto your tongue not long after—less than the predicted five minutes—the salty slick spurting with every weak, jerky thrust. Panting, she attempts to push you off. For once, you let her. With a minor sound of protest you withdraw from your cunt, shifting up to straddle. Her half-limp cock twitches against your stomach. 

“You—you good? You satisfied?” She pants, because what else could she wish for but your happiness. It makes you smile, coo a little as you glide your hands—one slick with sweat, the other with your essence—up her stomach and under her loose tee. 

“No.” You murmur softly, enough to trick her tired brain for one second before she truly processes. 

“What?” She breathes, and you can hear how her following inhale catches sharply. She watches as you rid yourself of your shorts, and then your panties, whining at the sight of your slick clinging to the sodden fabric. Then she’s distracted, your palm rubbing against her sensitive skin making her gasp. She whines something about overstimulation, but still her cock twitches in your hand. 

“One more for me?” You huff, half-a-laugh, at her expression. Her mouth has lolled open, her lids falling—even at the gentle stimulation. The sight of you hovering, poised to sink down on her, is just as overwhelming as the touches. 

“Yeah—yeah, fuck.” It’s the sweet, breathless whines she makes that always get you. She jerks, mouth open in a silent gasp as you slowly sink. You split yourself open on her cock, easing down with gentle rolls of your hips. It’s enough to tear a soft moan from you, unrestrained now. There’s nothing to muffle your sounds that rise to mix with her own. 

Her palms seek your hips, guiding them through the motions that pick up gradually. Your joint sounds are muffled by the slap of her hips against your pelvis. The tip of her head back, slamming against the couch’s cushion, is a welcome sight—as is the tensing of her abdomen. You dig your nails into the muscles, the skin, drawing blood to the unbroken skin in a rose-tinted blush. 

She tilts her hips—some readjustment, right, left, you’re unsure. And you don’t really care, because white is sparking across your vision like falling stars. Your mouth falls open in an intoxicating babble. 

“Oh, right there. Yes. Good, Cate.” You murmur, your breath stuttering in the rhythm of your pounding heart. At the praise she groans, tightens her grip on your hips, and cums. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you—” Her babbling is the thing that tips you over, and it delights you to no end as your tightening around her causes the prettiest gasp. You sag, boneless, and fall to lay on her chest, feeling yourself leak hotly where you’re joined. 

“Well, fuck.” And then you feel a shift, her gaze straying— “We missed the end!”

Always about that stupid show. 

“Fuck the show.” You’ve got no energy for any other response, the burn in your muscles dulling pleasantly.

© ki-starz

[aslaneylul]

[ki-starz]

doing tfem!cait's estrogen + progesterone shot <3

[deadlittledogs]

[tiktaalic]

dont cry ok? there is the sun and there isthe ocean and there are butch gay women

[ki-starz]

clit fucking. nsfw. top!ambessa, bottom!reader. ambessa rails you w/ her clit :3 praise kink. fingers in mouth. gagging mentioned.

“Shhh… calm yourself, little one.” Her large, warm hand smooths down your back, caressing the trembling muscles. Your knees press deep into the mattress, as do your elbows, tensing and twitching with the aftermath. It’s unclear how long you’ve been positioned like this—she’d settled behind you what felt like hours ago and pressed her mouth to your cunt until you wept. You had shivered on her tongue and dripped down her throat, and still she’s not done with you.

Her touch brings you back to the present, to the press of sheets of cool Noxian silk into your joints. Expansive, her broad palms slide to cup your hips, drawing them against hers. The press of her pelvis makes a whimper emerge from your throat, your head falling to rest on your fisted hands. Her weight pressures you into a truly obscene arch. You feel relentlessly exposed, unable to escape her.

“It is alright.” She chuckles throatily at your sensitivity, her hands lowering towards the source of the heat pulsing through you. Her thumbs guide your lips apart, watching as your entrance flutters. It’s sweet, really, how you react to her. “See? You’re ready for me. Such a perfect girl.”

The praise hits you like a wave, the shiver pouring down your back. Without much effort she shifts you, pressing your spine to the smooth, crimson silk. You get to watch how her muscles adjust, how the shadow along her biceps deepen. The stubborn heat flares once more, even after being sated so many times.

Her looming form is backlit by the full moon, haloing her greying hair with a silver sheen. At your lidded gaze she smiles, finally able to see how truly and utterly she’s ruined you. Spreading knees push yours up and apart, your calves settling comfortably over her wide thighs. She licks her lips at the sight, and you follow the movement with hazy eyes before letting them drift to her clit, the thick nub twitching from between her heavy folds.

She reaches down to line herself up, then rocks inside you. Strong hands push your knees up, forcing your cunt into a stranglehold she welcomes. Her exhale is slow, melting into a chuckle as you whimper.

“Good?” The question is trivial—she knows the feeling is euphoric, and you’re too fucked-out to respond.

Her pace quickens, and soon the obscene sound of flesh impacting flesh is the room’s symphony, mixing with her grunts and your heightening noises. She pulls your legs around her with heavy hands, not uncaring, but not exactly kindly as she chases her own pleasure. Your ankles can barely lock around her broad back. Graciously, she drops a wide thumb to your clit, rubbing the nub in tight circles that make you seize around her.

“Tight. You want to suffocate me, little one?” She chuckles as you whimper, and your open mouth is soon filled. Two of her thick fingers slip past your lips, pressing down on your tongue just enough to make you gag. “You must have known I’d… retaliate.”

Despite her composure there’s signs of her approaching climax—her words go breathy, exhaling them rather than letting them drip smoothly off her tongue. There’s the briefest quiver to her thighs, the stutter of her hips when your nails rake lines down her shoulder blades.

You attempt to slow your ascension—despite its futility—just so you can tip over with her. But you can’t. She’ll never let you win. She tweaks your clit, the edge of her callus catching on the sensitive, throbbing flesh, and you’re gone. White fills your vision, sparking behind your eyelids as they slam shut. It’s almost too overwhelming, but still you’re in tune with her; you feel her stutter, twitching deep inside you, groaning with finality. Her cum splatters the backs of your thighs, running down between them to drip, drip, drip onto the sheets.

For a moment, there’s just breathing, your harsh, ragged gasps mixing with her deeper heaves as she draws her fingers from your throat.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yes?” She finally exhales, bundling you in her arms despite their trembling. You can only nod, tucked snug against her shoulder.

kinda shit but idk!!! also i need to figure out how to write mean shit… it intrigues me

© ki-starz

[tqlepatia-deactivated20250509]

sevika DON'T have pink nipples or pussy, goodnight

[lemongogo]

ok back 2 ambessa posting

[boringangel]

Clairo for Coup de Main Magazine

[ki-starz]

〃works in progress.

a list of my current request wips. i will add drabbles/fics as they come into my inbox.

INSPECTIONS ☘︎ cheer captain!quinn fabray

you find your cheer career upended by the sudden and intense interest from your very own captain. snaking into your life with a sharp-toothed smile, you should be more wary of how quinn leads you, and what she attempts under the guise of "care". should being the key word.

PROFESSOR... ☘︎ history professor!ambessa medarda

perhaps it's unreasonable to be quite so invested in a TA position. perhaps it's not, considering it's Ambessa Medarda—one who many try and fail to please. you've earned a little preening, and an excuse to be there early with her, all alone. truly makes the hours studying worth it.

DRABBLES; none right now...

[ki-starz]

darling wife. nsfw. tw; top!ambessa, bottom!reader. thigh riding. you're married, happily so. short, soft extension of this fic. wc; ~700.

“You’re a menace. Truly. I shouldn’t let you get away with this.” But she does, and she will forever. As you tug her down she goes with the motion, exhaling amusedly at your eagerness. She allows your hands to curl up further, cupping the underside of her breasts, before she grasps your wrists. You pout, but she culls you—slipping off the silk that covered her and then pushing away your own nightgown. She descends, pressing her mouth hotly under your chin and smirking when you gasp. When your nails rake down her back she groans in response, pressing closer until your chests are molded and she can get no nearer. Enfolding your wrists once more, she guides them around her neck. When your fingers sink into her hair an appreciative noise escapes her. 

“There we go…” She sits back, chuckling when you cling, and draws you onto her broad thigh. Her mouth roams, leaving the hollow of your throat only to climb up your jaw. Buried in your skin she groans, a biting kiss landing right behind your ear. Your resulting exhale, hot against her own ear, makes her tense with an unreleased shiver. Even relaxed she is still restrained. You admire her will, despite it meaning she keeps her reactions from you. 

You sigh again, hoping to draw the same reaction, or perhaps something stronger. She tuts at your play, a “rather obvious…” echoing between you, before your teeth encircle the skin at her nape, working it gently through the drawn-out, indulgent suck. That makes her cant forward, her fingers skimming down you back and sinking into the flesh of your ass. She drags you closer until your hips are flush to hers, your moan echoed by one of her own. You find that nestled in the crook of her thigh is a wonderful place to be, and if you angle just right your clit catches deliciously on jut of her hip, making you shiver wholly. She notices, as she always does, and draws you over it, large hands guiding you. Her touch directs you, calms the would-be frantic nature of your movements. Instead, every pass is deliberate and slow, allowing you to feel the full scope of her flesh.

You sag into her shoulder, mouth releasing from her skin to whine, and she accepts your weight how someone would a bouquet; every movement, from the shift of her torso to allow you more room to the movement of her hands up, now, to the curve of your waist, is delicate, as if not to crush any petals or bend a stem. She doesn’t protest when your nails scratch at her ribs, clawing closer until they settle back around the fat of her tits, or when you knead her like a particularly eager kitten. No; she just grumbles her appreciation and returns her focus to you once more. 

“There we go. Perfect thing. I won’t stop you today.” She kneads you in return, her touch warm as it cups your shoulder blades or sinks down into the curve of your thighs. Her hair tickles your nose with every pass, and eventually you nuzzle under it—pressing your cheek to hers and sighing as her scent enfolds you further. Grateful she’s not denying you, especially on such a beautiful morning, you attempt to thank her. Your voice just comes out a huff, little whines from the back of your throat impacting the sound until it’s unintelligible. 

“I know, I know… just feel for me, little one. Can you do that?” You can. Especially with her murmuring so softly in your ear. She spurs you faster, just slightly, and it takes just two more jolts of your hips before you’re spilling over her thigh. Her delighted, small sigh fills your ear, your chest brimming with satisfaction and mixing with the warmth of your orgasm. You clutch at her, tucking your hands under her arms to splay over her large shoulders, and she says nothing. Not of the work waiting for her, or of the breakfast surely laid out the moment the servants heard of her waking. She holds you in her lap, and presses a kiss to your hair, letting you shiver and watching the sun stream in over your bared back. 

“Beautiful.” She hums. As with anything else, she says it with such certainty you can’t help but believe her.

© ki-starz

[noonwalkdiary]

i only trust lesbians, cowboys, and god

[ki-starz]

soft!caitlyn. nsfw. tw; top!caitlyn, bottom!reader. roommates!au, college!au. reader and caitlyn both play some unidentified sport. sleepy sex. eating out. wc; 1.2k

Going back home right after training usually bought you an hour or two alone in the dorm before Caitlyn arrived from her extra lifting session (even after the absolutely monstrous number of sprints you had to do.) It's not as if you disliked her—you wouldn't be dating her if you did—but it's nice to shower or nap without having your girlfriend silently bully her way into your space, whether that be into your too-small bed or the miniscule bathroom or behind you, leaning too much weight into your wobbly desk chair, making it creak in protest along with you.

Maybe the dorm was just too small. But that doesn't distract from the fact that taking a shower and washing off sweat and grime without her tall ass blocking the stream of water is magnificent. It warms you to the bone, and after you dry, you're quick to grasp it again—bundling up into one of Caitlyn's hoodies, plucked from where it's draped over her desk chair, the fabric skimming your hips and bunching at your wrists. It's big, even on her, so it swamps you in a sea of fabric. Drowsiness starts to set in, as it always does after such a tough practice. Or maybe that's just because the hoodie smells like Caitlyn. It's girlfriend air, which is the only explanation as to why she makes you so comfortable you're dead to the world in minutes.

You're too tired to worry about things like modesty at this point. Tunnel vision has set in, and what's more paramount is getting to your bed in the quickest time, not whether or not you put any underwear on. Nothing she hasn't seen, anyways, on hot summer days at her family's lake house when it's too muggy to even think about clothing. And with her penchant for attempting to plaster every inch of herself against you at night... you got used to the close contact quickly. So you drop into bed in just her hoodie, sling a blanket over your waist and promptly pass out, as you do every day without fail, phone abandoned on the bedside table.

Usually you're awakened by the sound of the showerhead sputtering to life, or, occasionally a pissed Caitlyn opening the door with a particularly ungraceful shoulder-shove. Today none of those things bother you. What does rouse you, though, is the trail of pale, warm fingers up your thighs.

Your eyes flutter open, a groggy, shallow breath escaping your lips. Attempting to reconcile, your memory catches up—practice. Shower. Nap. Caitlyn.

Caitlyn. When your head tilts down you see her, now. You'd rolled onto your back sometime during your slumber (or you fell asleep like that, who knows at this point.) She's still partially dressed from training and lifting. She shed her sweatpants but kept her sweat-damp tank, and if you crane your neck you can catch a glimpse of the fabric that hugs her slim hips.

All those thoughts are knocked from your head when she rubs at your inner thigh, and your brain bluescreens when she shoots you a small, charming smile.

"I was waiting for you to wake up. I didn't want to disturb you." Her words are gentle and caring on the surface, but you can see the familiar gleam in her eyes. Her endorphins are still pumping and letting desire spread through her body like a creeping fog.

Her eyes flicker down, catching on the crease of your thigh, and her tongue slides out to wet her lips.

"...can I?" She turns that pretty gaze to yours, and, well, who are you to deny her? As she shifts forward, slotting a shoulder under one of your thighs and her hand over the top of it, you nod.

Her smile widens for just a moment, endearingly delighted, before she creeps closer. A warm breath drifts over your cunt, and she giggles when your hips wiggle in turn.

"Impatient." She scolds, but can't even chastise you properly—she's already peppering kisses down your lower stomach, nose bumping against the warm skin, and exhales in pleasure when she sees you, slightly glossy already. A thumb comes to part your folds, skimming up to nudge away the hood of your clit. She presses a kiss to it, and then another, before sealing her lips weakly around it.

You rock in gentle contentment, hips rolling slow and long against her face. Her hand, once curled over your thigh, skims up your stomach; she outstretches her fingers, then curls them briefly, asking for your hand.

"Sap," you tease, but oblige her anyway—interlocking your digits indulgently. Your other hand skims down, burying itself in her ponytail to free her of the tie's strangling vice. There's no way it doesn't hurt to keep her hair tied that tight, but you don't want to ponder that now. Not when her hair falls free, dropping in front of your eyes for your hand to scoop up and hold away, and she licks a broad stripe up the length of you. And another. She's slow but thorough, catching your weeping entrance and your reddening clit with every pass. You fall into the feeling, muscles going lax even as your hips tilt towards her gentle mouth.

She chuckles against you, and then taps the back of your hand—pulling away briefly to drag your focus back.

"You're not allowed to fall asleep. I've waited all day for this, darling." Your eyes flutter back open with a bratty little huff. A narrowing of them follows, and her gaze matches it. Although she usually takes the dominant role, expertly guiding you towards that peak and finding immense pleasure in it, she's still a brat at heart. Realizing this standstill will get you nowhere closer to cumming, you acquiesce with a little puff of breath, head tilting back but gaze holding steady.

"Yeah, yeah. I won't." You begin, sighing as she sucks your pliant skin between her teeth, scraping them weakly over your thigh. "Just... keep going. And then we can both nap."

With one last kiss to the new mark she continues, a bit messier now. Despite how she enjoys it, there's a fatigue to her movements, showing how her drowsiness mirrors your own. She laps, small, quick strokes, at your clit, intercut by languished sucks that slowly, but surely, drive you up and up, hips rising to meet her strokes.

"Yes, there, Cait. Mh.. yeah." Your gentle praise spurs her, movements continuing but picking up in speed ever-so-slightly. Her head gently bobs and you guide it, hand fisted leisurely in her bangs. The sight, as much as her actions, drive you over, catching you by surprise as it glides over you. It's not a violent thing, instead blooming vines of warmth that creeps all the way to your fingertips. Caitlyn keeps her movements, though slowed, until you push her away.

When you do she clambers upwards, squeezing next to you on the too-small twin. Instinctively she draws you into her collarbone, and you should sniff in disgust at the sweat that pools there. But it smells like her and you're too sleepy to complain, so your head notches itself against her chest and you sink into the warmth of her.

© ki-starz

[ki-starz]

〃rules

this blog will be almost entirely nsfw. take that into mind when you're consuming my writing/interacting. i do not regulate your media consumption.

i will not write: m!reader, underage, rape, cnc, nc, somno, raceplay, ageplay, incest, stepcest, bodily fluids (watersports or scat), vore, feet, suicide or self harm, or eating disorders. if something isn't on this list and you are unsure, just ask.

〃requests, anons, asks.

my requests are currently open. send them my way at your leisure.

please be semi-specific with the request, with at least the character and a scenario, no matter how simplistic.

please have patience. i am a full time student and run another writing blog on top of this that takes priority. works may take time.

my inbox is open. it doesn't have to be just requests; talk to me or send me your thoughts. i'm quicker to respond when the perfectionist in me doesn't spark up—i.e. quick little blurbs/drabbles.

© ki-starz 2025. every piece of my writing is done by my hands. please do not repost, copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any of my work.

[ki-starz]

〃the archive

arcane

caitlyn;

soft!caitlyn.

ambessa;

darling wife. clit fucking.