summary: you look a little too good in your christmas pajamas, and vi simply can't control herself.
content: answer to this req!! dom!vi, sub!r, desperate!vi, strap (r!rec), makeout and through-the-chonies rubbing just for a little bit, dirty talk i guueeesssss, rough!vi, mean!vi, vi's thrusts are like a fucking JACKHAMMER like paralyzingly fast (is paralyzingly a word (did i just make that up (call me an entrepreneur))).
notes: this is pretty filthy guys. merry christmas my kittens eat well. OOH OOH ALSO GUYS. yk when cait and vi fucked and cait was like "while you were gone... i- i saw someone..." and vi is like "i dont fucking care."? yeah thats what the line later on thats in red is giving. muehehehehehhehe. and i double posted too i’m such an active queen. read soft christmas morning with vi thru the link ;)
(wc 1.2k)
your head slammed against the plush of the mattress as vi roughly dropped you on the bed.
just twenty minutes prior, you were just standing in the kitchen brewing two cups of tea, one for yourself and one for her. the two of you were in your own version of matching christmas pajamas: the pants of the set were sitting low on vi’s hips, her toned v-line visible with a taunting red happy trail peeking out from under a plain wifebeater. the long-sleeved, buttoned shirt of the set loosely draped across your body, the top few buttons undone and showing your upper chest, and the lower hem just barely covering the fat of your ass, clad in a pair of white, cheeky underwear covered in little red and pink hearts.
vi was splayed across the couch with her phone dangling in her hand, her eyes unabashedly trained on your ass while you moved in the kitchen. just looking at your bare legs in the warm light of the kitchen was enough to get her going, and once you turned around with a mug of tea in each hand and approached her, nipples erect and poking through the fabric of your pajama shirt, she knew the two of you were going end up in the bedroom in the next fifteen minutes.
“here, baby,” you said, carefully setting her mug of jasmine tea on the side table next to the couch. “let it cool a bit—it's really hot.”
“is it, now?” vi mockingly mumbled, not caring how obvious her intentions were, her gaze lowered to your thighs. “c’mere,” she says, hooking one hand around your waist and the other under your ass cheek to pull you onto her lap.
“jesus, i have piping hot tea in my hand, violet.” you rush to carefully place your mug of tea next to where you set hers on the wood side table. your voice wavers a bit when vi’s lips suction to your neck, suckling on the skin and leaving wet patches as her mouth moves.
her kisses trail up the side of your neck to your jaw, disconnecting right when she gets to the corner of your mouth. your breath has already begun shuddering from her sudden teasing, and you pant into her parted lips.
“but, i just made... but the tea,” you squeak out, trying to stop her from devouring you, because you know once she starts, you won’t be able to say anything but yes and please.
her head tilts to the side, lips brushing over yours. with a scoff, she says, “i could not care any fucking less about the tea,” and then pulls you by the back of your neck to close the small gap between you, immediately pulling moans from your chest.
a particularly sharp thrust from vi snaps you back to the present. you lay on your back on the edge of the bed, your head dangling off and facing a full-length mirror in front of you.
through your upside-down view, you watch her lean figure snap forward at a diabolical pace through the mirror. her wifebeater was discarded, her bared chest making your clit throb as she pistoned into you with a long, red strap. with every jolt of her hips, her small breasts bounced and hypnotized you in the mirror’s reflection.
if your vision wasn't getting blurry from the stimulation and the blood rushing to your head from your inverted position, you’d try telling her how salivating she looked. you give up the thought of even trying because the idea of forming words dissolves just as quickly as it came about, pleas and begs the only coherent words your brain can make.
vi had the stamina of a seasoned race horse, so while you had already cum twice, she was steadily building up to her first orgasm and had barely broken a sweat. out on the couch, she had unbuttoned all of your shirt’s buttons except for two at the bottom to expose your boobs, her mouth latching onto them immediately while her fingers rubbed your swollen clit. your shirt was still unbuttoned, and your free boobs bounced with every one of vi’s devilish thrusts.
“jesus christ- can't believe i hadn’t fucked you like this yet,” she ekes out. “i love this pussy so damn.. so damn much...” her voice trails off with a long grunt.
that familiar, hot swirling begins in your body, your legs softly twitching on either side of vi’s hips.
“vi, please- please don’t stop,” you whisper, unable to remember how to speak at a louder volume.
“oh, what was that?” she evilly taunts. “did you say something? i’m gonna need you to speak up, mama.”
you whine in frustration. in between cries, you mumble, “please, don’t stop, please. keep going, keep going, don’t move.” tears fall from your eyes and up your face from gravity being flipped, salted drops disappearing into your hairline and down your hair that hung to the floor.
your strained begging just eggs her on more, her thrusts somehow picking up speed even more and further bruising your already abused cervix.
you wonder how at such a relentless pace, she has remained nearly silent, but before the thought can develop, you’re cumming hard around her cock, your mouth open in a silent scream. vi grins at your helplessness and continues fucking you through it, only slowing down once you begin nonsensically babbling. your dumbification pushes her to her climax, too, and she fucks the both of you through your orgasms.
after a minute or so, once the two of you have come down from your highs, she grabs a fistful of your hair at the crown of your head to lift your ragdoll-like head up to face her.
“you think you got another one for me in that hollow skull?” she teases, slightly shaking your head side-to-side by her grip on your hair. her smile is evident in her eyes, knowing you couldn’t give her another one even if you wanted to.
all you can do is pant words out incoherently and shake your head, your eyes nearly crossed from the sheer strength of your orgasm.
pulling your body fully onto the bed by your thighs, she sets your head onto a pillow, pulling out and removing the strap from her hips to get a warm washcloth to clean up the mess you’ve made in between your legs.
she walks around the bed to where your head rests on a pillow and smooths the hair stuck to your forehead with sweat out of your face.
“you did good for me, baby, i’m proud of you. i know i was rough.” leaning down, she drops a kiss on the tip of your nose, chuckling at how you still haven’t seemed to get a grasp on your surroundings. “merry christmas, mama.”
merry quismos chat. make sure to wish all your favorite skibids a merry gyattmas (i’m gonna throw up in my mouth i’m cringing)
・❥・Summary: Working at a brothel in the heart of Zaun, you find yourself drawn to a new regular who so happens to be a reckless pit fighter seeking solace in your expertise.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
Babette’s brothel is so much more than just a whorehouse- it’s a crossroads full of expensive secrets. In the hallways of the brothel, the most powerful people of Zaun float in between the rooms of different women and men.
There’s always a crowd in the brothel. People let things slip when they feel safe and relaxed. That’s your job. Of course, it’s not the ideal job that you’ve always dreamed of but it pays better than most and you gain leverage over the powerful people of Zaun. It’s not like you have much of an option when all the prices in the Undercity are sky rocketing.
After a while, you’ve become numb to the touch of strangers. The other workers always lookout for one and another and Babette doesn’t stand for violence. It’s one big dysfunctional family. You’ve gotten used to it all and have started to have regulars that respect you. You try your best not to get too close them but a particular new regular has caught your eye.
Her name is Vi. She has this red pinkish hair that she decided to dye black in an impulsive rage. Still her red hair shines through the cheap dye shining a spotlight of who she used to be. A tattoo of her name underneath her eye and piercings scattered on her body. She’s a pit fighter for one of Zauns notorious illegal fighting ring hidden in the dark corners of the undercity. You always prefer the women customers over the men but Vi attracts you in an alluring way.
Your meetings usually happen after her fights. She’s bloody and drunk seeking comfort anyway possible. Sometimes she comes in before fights to scoop details about the other fighters strategies.
Here she is again, stumbling into your dimly lit room on a late Friday night. The faint tang of iron fills the room. Her lip is busted and her nose leaks dark red. She smells like cheap whiskey and looks as if she has been drinking bottle to bottle.
Her knuckles are split open and bruised but she pays no attention to the pain that tightens her body.
“Hell of a night, huh?” You ask as you pat the spot next to you on the love seat. She can’t help it when her eyes trail up and down your body. You’re practically wearing nothing. Like usual, you’re wearing a cropped v neck tank top with an open back and matching shorty shorts. She lets out a deep sigh and shuts her eyes.
She collapses on the soft plush next to you. You lean over the coffee table and pull the medical kit out from the tiny compartment. You started keeping one ever since Vi started her visits.
“I’m taking that you didn’t win tonight.” You state as you open the latch of the medical kit. Her face doesn’t change- not a flicker of pride or shame, just her same old steady stone cold mask.
“In the end, I’m still here aren’t I?” She rasps in a deep voice. You pick out a white bandage and a cloth. You sit against Vi’s clothed thighs and brings your hand to her face. You caress her cheek as you dab away the blood on her lips.
She slightly opens her eyes watching your movements. “Who did you fight?” You ask while you wipe away the remaining blood. “Doesn’t matter, doll.” She leans into your soft touch.
She started calling you that after her first visit there. Always dressed up in prettiest of garments and hair perfect as can be. You look like a doll to her. Perfect and pristine. She wonders how you ever ended up in a place like this. You’re too good for here.
She brings her calloused hand up to your hair. It’s neatly up in a bun with some bobby pins pressed against it to hold the hair. “Why haven’t I ever seen you with your hair down?” She coos in a low voice.
Your lips upturn into a sly smile. “Maybe because you never asked.” You state as you place the bloody cloth on the glass table infront of the loveseat. The warmth of your skin radiates on Vi. You lean back touching your shoulder to hers. Only inches away from her face your eyes meet hers.
“I’m asking now.” She loops her finger into your hair band and unravels it slowly before throwing the hairband somewhere next to you.
Your hair falls down onto your shoulders and cascades around your face. She plucks the bobby pins out and places them on the table. You let out a small laugh.
She takes it all in, her sharp gaze lingering longer than usual. The way your hair falls around your shoulders. You push your hair back with a deep sigh.
“Long day for you too?” She asks while twirling a stray strand of your hair. There’s a rasp in her voice, a splinter of vulnerability shining through her bloody battered state.
“Yeah well.. you know how it is here.” She pushes the stray hair strand behind your ear. “Anyways, I heard some big shot talking about your next fight.” She tenses up while you continue.
“I don’t care. Not tonight.” She says while you start to pull her black jacket off. You peel it away slowly feeling the worn fabric under your grip.
You throw the jacket over the side of the couch. Your fingers trace the black ink on her bruised skin. Her eyes follow them. Then they flicker to your face again.
She can’t help but feel an overwhelming attraction towards you. A gratifying force pulling her to you. She grabs onto your hand freezing you in your place.
She can’t take this anymore. She needs you against her. Her gaze locks with yours. The air between the two of you thickens, charged with an energy you can’t fight.
She lets go of your hand and wraps it into your hair. She crashes onto your lips moving in a hungry rhythm. Your hands wrap against her back. Her hands loop with your tank top. She unravels from your lips to lift the tank top off of you.
It slides off with ease. She takes a moment to appreciate the scene in front of her. Your chest rises and falls. She ducks down to your neck pressing chaste kisses.
You let out a soft gasp as she travels further. Her touch hand latches onto your breast and she nips at the sensitive spot of your neck. A rush of euphoria makes your head spin.
You need more, she needs more.
Her breath is hot against your skin sending shivers down your spine. She ignites a fire inside of you. Her finger leaves your chest and travels below your shorts.
She lets out a deep laugh against your skin feeling how soaked you are. Her finger dives deeper. Your lips press against her ear. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be making you feel like this..” you whisper.
“You know it’s so much more fun for the both of us when I do it, doll.” She pulls you back in for a hungry kiss. Her fingers curl inside of you.
You let out a hushed moan. Her hands explore your body like your body is new territory. Time to seems to blur, your heart beats in your ears. Her fingers leave your warmth.
You sigh unable to form words as she pulls off the shorts that already barely cover you. Her hands drag down to your thighs slowly torturing you with the prolonging absence of her touch.
The shorts are thrown with the rest of your forgotten clothes. Her hands stop at your hips and she grabs them. She moves you down the couch and starts to press kisses further and further down.
The warmth in between your legs continues to grow. Flutters of arousal beat inside your chest. She finally makes her way to your heat. She ducks down in between your legs. Your thighs instinctively tighten around her head.
Her hot breath lingers around your center. Her lips press against you. You gasp lightly and your hands travel into her hair. Her tongue swirls around your core carefully. She always knows just what riles you up.
“I know you like it just like that, doll.” She cockily teases you. She can’t help but smirk seeing your flushed face.
Between breathy moans you moan her name quietly as she inches you closer over the edge. She slides her tongue up sending you over but slows down.
“Fuck.. Vi..” You whisper under your pants. She picks up your pace. You grab onto her hair pulling her closer. A burst of an intense sensation paralyzes you.
You press her down further arching your back. She keeps at her pace until your pathetic humps stop and your body twitches. She leans up from her position to catch you in a quick kiss.
You can barely keep up with her rhythm as she crawls on top of you. Her red hair falls infront of her face. She leans away from the kiss and deep down all you want is for her to stay.
She drops her head on your chest taking in the warmth of your body. For a moment the pain of her wounds melt away. She doesn’t think of Caitlyn but only of you. Your breath slows down matching with her.
She tries not to dwell on the fact that this experience is something you always have when working at the brothel. To her you’re not just the hooker from the brothel. You’re just a desperate girl doing whatever it takes.
Just like her.
——————————————-
I couldn’t find any Pitfighter Vi gifs which is disappointing bc she’s so fine in her emo era
warnings: scissoring, pussy eating, strap-on sex, bondage, brat taming??, switch vi, down bad vi, surprisingly only 1 sub vi hc....? not proof read, yada yada what's new
an: putting multiple asks in one fic as headcannons because yeah... they've been sitting there for awhile
── .✦ switch!vi who's so down bad more than you think your fucked out brain could ever even muster. bad day at work? her hands are reaching to tug and slide off your underwear mid make out sesh, handing you the joint she rolled earlier that day, lighting it for you, and then hooking her arms under your thighs and burying her face between them after she's sat you down on the couch, all in consecutive order. (this one's for you @usuck, luv u mootie)
── .✦ switch!vi who is a size queen and is not ashamed about it. when she's tired and wants to be a princess, she always lays herself out like an easy whore, pulls you ontop of her and begs you to fuck her in-between kisses until you eventually cave.
── .✦ switch vi who guides the movement of your hips when she feels like being in charge, cooing praising little words in your ear, like "that's my good girl." and "there's my good girl. keep on doing that." when you're doing well.
── .✦ switch!vi who knows she has bog hands, and she uses them to always be groping you. you two go out for some drinks with a few friends? she's absolutely pulling you to a secluded corner or a bathroom stall to do nothing but feel you up. dancing together at the club? her hands are on your ass, practically fondling it when pulling you closer to her. you're riding her? her eyes are glued to your tits and the way they're continuously bouncing every time you lift yourself up and down, reaching her hands up to switch between pinching your nipples and squeezing them.
── .✦ dom!vi who always waits (im)patiently for you to wake up after she does, never being able to stop herself from practically grinding her pussy on your ass when she's doing so.
── .✦ dom!vi who mutters little "mornin, baby"'s when she feels you shift around and murmur something in question, her hand already managing to find it's way under your shirt to grope your tits, her heart shaped lips smiling against the back of your neck when she hears you complaining that you missed her.
── .✦ dom!vi who thinks her favourite way to get you both off at the same with her still being in charge is to scissor. she's always ontop, with one of her hands holding onto your leg that's hooked over her shoulder, and the other wrapped around your neck for both stability and to attempt to shut you up, though she will not hesitate to tie your hands up to the headboard and make you suck on her fingers the second you get bratty.
── .✦ sub!vi who gets wet at the thought of you marking her all over, and vise versa. if she can't feel the ache of the scratches you left on her back from the night before, she automatically has a bad day, and will nudge her face into your neck while shyly asking you if she can fuck you again.
who thought this day would ever come.. (too many of my moots bullied me into writing something, that's the only reason i did)
💭 Arcane modern AU where you and Vi live in a coastal town. Since you’d started dating, Vi would always take you anywhere you wanted on her motorcycle…
Then, Vi starts taking you out for a late-night rides, taking long, scenic routes through the roads closest to the coastline— Only to stop in secluded spots so the two of you can wander onto the beach together, taking late-night swims in your underwear before the two of you would lay yourselves down in the damp sand.
Vi would pull you in close to her bare chest, guiding your head to look up at her with a gentle hand on your jaw as she leant down to press a loving kiss against your lips.
Vi’s kisses would turn hot and open-mouthed as they trailed lower down your body, down your neck, chest and stomach until they reached the tight waistband of your underwear, her powder-blue eyes looking up into yours as she ran her hands up your thighs to pull the thin garment down, continuing to kiss down lower… And lower… And lower… ♡
This was literally just an excuse to write smut and since I'm really digging the Hogwarts AU with Piltover's Finest... here's that:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: None apply
Relationships: Caitlyn/Vi
Summary: The two of you are in the Head Girl and Boy’s meeting lounge, and she’s seated on the giant, polished wood table that’s reserved for school event plans and proposals, which have all been swept aside and now lay abandoned on the floor. Neither of you pays attention to the mess that’s been created. The door’s locked, so the mess doesn’t matter; she’d always be able to clean it up and organize it after anyway. Speaking of the devil… ragged breaths escape her mouth, synched with the tempo of her hips trying to grind onto your leg, and it takes all of your focus just to keep your thoughts together, despite the distraction provided by her dilated pupils and swollen lips.
Her hands brush over yours as the both of you struggle to pull off her Head Girl uniform— first, the ridiculous robe— then, the sweater and tie. You catch sight of a familiar glint of Ravenclaw blue and grey; the shimmer of that special, prestigious pin on her sweater gives you another rush of excitement that settles deep into your bones, reminding you that yes... you really do have the Head Girl pinned under you, begging for you.
