It had been almost two weeks since that night. In between your workload with exams, and Caitlyn and Vi's crazy work schedule, there hadn't been time to set up another scene yet. You ached for it, though, wanting nothing more than to be kneeling at their feet again, to be reminded of your place.

They texted you constantly, and Vi would send you random texts throughout the day. She was more talkative than Caitlyn was, and she seemed more open to talking to you outside of the dynamic. She told you about her day, and would ask about yours as well. You slowly learnt more about her, and you found yourself looking forward to her messages every day.

One time she sent a picture of her desk, covered with multiple coffee mugs and scattered with paperwork.

Vi: Guess who is the organised one?

You: caitlyn, obvi

Vi: Wow. Betrayal ☹

Despite her jokes, receiving Vi's messages only reminded you that you were on her mind. She cared about you, and not only when you were kneeling naked in front of her, stripped of your defences. The quiet reassurance that she thought about you when she was at work, in between meetings and paperwork, did something to you. You felt her holding you together, even when she was far away.

Caitlyn was the direct opposite, only checking in and reminding you to take care of yourself.

She would ask you things like:

Caitlyn: Have you eaten?

If you dared respond with anything but a yes, she'd follow up with:

Caitlyn: Stop what you're doing and have something. Now. That's an order.

And you'd obey every time, too. Even if you weren't in a scene with them, you craved to be obedient. You wanted them to bring you down, back to that place where you existed only to listen to their orders.

Although Caitlyn never really interacted you in any way outside the terms of your contract, you didn't feel any less cared for by her. Her messages were blunt and concise, but every time your phone buzzed with a notification from her, you felt the familiar grounding weight settle in you. She didn't talk about her day or send pictures of her desk, but she did send you structure.

Still, you constantly ached to be back with them in their space. Maybe it was because of how stressed you were with your exams and studying, but you wanted them to just take control and turn your mind off.

One night, you were still working on your coursework, hunched over your desk with your laptop screen glowing too bright in the dark room. It was almost midnight, and your back ached and your eyes burned from how long you had been looking at the screen. Your notes laid beside you on the desk, staring back at you mockingly. You rubbed at your eyes, frustrated tears stinging out of exhaustion.

Your phone buzzed.

Vi: You still up, sweetheart?

You hesitated, briefly thinking of ignoring the message to pretend you were asleep, but immediately dismissed the idea. As if you could ever lie to Vi.

You: yeah, trying to finish an assignment :(

Her response came almost instantly.

Vi: Look at the time. Close your laptop.

You let out a tired sigh.

You: I need to finish this.

There was a longer pause, and then:

Caitlyn: How much do you have left?

You: maybe an hour or so if i focus

Caitlyn: Here's what I propose: you close the laptop and go to sleep. Tomorrow, you'll finish your assignment. After lunch, no distractions.

Your fingers hovered over your phone. You hadn't mentioned wanting instructions, hand't asked for direction. But Caitlyn always knew when you needed to be told.

You: is that an order?

Caitlyn: Yes.

Just one word, plain and simple. It was enough to make you exhale shakily. Something inside your chest loosened, the familiarity of snapping back into the dynamic grounded you. You liked it when you didn't have to think, when all you had to do was trust them to know what you need, even if it was from a distance.

You: okay. closing my laptop now

Vi: Good girl. Sleep good

You stared at the two words, trying to ignore the heat curling in stomach.

***

The next afternoon, you did exactly what Caitlyn told you to: set up a timer for an hour after lunch, and finished your assignment. When your submitted it, you snapped a picture of the submission page and sent it to the group chat.

You: all done :D

Vi responded with celebratory nonsense — multiple confetti emojis, a blurry selfie of her doing a thumbs-up, and a silly gif of a cat.

Caitlyn's message was simpler, but landed more firmly.

Caitlyn: Well done, you did so good. I'm proud of you.

The words washed over you with the same weight their praises did when you were in their living room, on your knees. Somehow, a simple I'm proud of you felt more intimate than that.

You hesitated, mulling over what you have been wanting to ask for the past two weeks, but never did due to your deadlines pressuring you.

You: i was gonna ask... could we do another scene soon? exams stressed me out so much. need my mind to go quiet again

Vi's reply came first, as usual.

Vi: There she is. I was wondering when you'd ask.

Your heart skipped a beat and you flushed, even though you were alone. The teasing didn't hide the warmth behind her words. She had been waiting for you.

Vi: Thank you for telling us what you need, sweetheart.

Caitlyn: Tell us exactly what you need.

You: i just... need you both to take over. i don't want to think, i just want to be obey, to be reminded where i belong please?

There was a brief pause, long enough for doubt to creep in, your raw honesty leaving you feeling too exposed.

Vi: Good girl for being honest. We'll take care of you, yeah?

Caitlyn: We're free Friday evening. Does that work for you?

You: yes please could we go...deeper this time?

You stared at the message for a full minute before hitting send. Your heart thudded loudly in your ears, resisting the urge to delete the message before they read it.

The typing bubble appeared. Then disappear. Then came back.

Vi: Deeper, huh?

You could hear the smirk in her single text. It wasn't exactly mocking, more knowing, like she was already picturing how far she could take you.

Vi: How deep, sweetheart?

That made your breath hitch. You chewed your lip, thinking about how to word it properly. This wasn't about sex. Well, it could be, but it wasn't everything. It was about trust, about surrender. About the weightless quiet that came when you let yourself fall, knowing they would catch you.

You: i want to surrender completely, give up everything my thoughts, my body just want to be yours, fully

You stared at the words for too long, wondering if you found the right words for it. The read receipt turned blue almost instantly.

Caitlyn: Thank you for trusting us with that. We'll take you there. We take care of what's ours, and that includes you.

Vi: Fuck, sweetheart. That's the hottest thing you've said. We're gonna break you. Until there's nothing left but you being a good girl for us.

You: i want that need that please take me apart

Caitlyn: We will. And when you're done breaking, we'll put you back together.

***

The hours before you arrived felt like it stretched on for years.

You followed Caitlyn's instructions obediently: you ate a proper meal, had a long shower, and hydrated yourself. You put on comfortable clothes again, knowing they wouldn't stay on long.

By the time you stood in front of their door, your heartbeat was shallow, your pulse quick. You buzzed with anticipation, your thighs already tight with arousal. You weren't nearly as nervous as your first time, the ache that bloomed over the past two weeks dulling every edge of nerves.

You knew exactly what you needed.

The door opened before you could knock.

Caitlyn stood there, sharp, poised and perfect. She wore a crisp white blouse, tight latex pants that clung to her long legs, and shiny heels. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, not a single hair out of place. She didn't smile or speak to you. She just looked you over, once, like you were her possession.

"Inside," she said, voice low and direct.

You stepped in, the door clicking softly behind you. The moment it did, something inside you shifted, the outside world disappearing. You dropped your gaze instantly.

The apartment was dim and quiet. There was low music coming from the TV — one of Vi's playlists, you assumed — a steady rhythm. You couldn't see Vi, and you wondered for a second where she was, but Caitlyn's voice cut through and stopped your thoughts all together.

"You know what to do."

You moved automatically, hands reaching for the hem of your hoodie. You pulled it off in one motion, and then your shirt. The cool air against your bare skin made your nipples harden. Your fingers worked at your jeans, every movement making your arousal throb hotter, wetter between your thighs.

By the time you slid your panties down your legs, your inner thighs were slick. You feel it, your need clinging between your folds, warm and obscene. Your skin burned with it.

You dropped to your knees. You straightened your posture, resting your hands on your thighs like you were told. Your entire body thrummed.

You heard her heels first. Caitlyn walked behind you, every step drawing tension tighter through your spine. You wanted to look, wanted to follow her with your eyes, to drink in the gorgeous sight of her. But you didn't. You knew better.

You heard another set of footsteps now. Bare, lighter. More relaxed. Vi.

You heard her pad into the room, circling you. You fought against the urge to look up at her.

"There's our girl," she said, voice casual. She crouched to your level. You could smell her cologne, warm and musky, and it was intoxicating. "Look at you, already kneeling. Such a good girl. You've been wanting this, haven't you?"

You bit back a whimper, nodding.

She reached out and gripped your chin. She wasn't rough, but she was firm. She tilted your chin upwards, forcing you to meet her eyes. Her gaze burned amused and dark. "Tell me."

Your voice was barely a whisper, raw. "I...I've been wanting this."

Vi held your gaze for a long moment, eyes searching yours. Then she smiled, slow and knowing. "Yeah," she murmured. "We could tell."

She let go, and your body chased the contact without thinking.

"Careful," she warned lightly. "You don't move until you're told. Not yet."

Behind you, Caitlyn stopped. The sudden stillness made your spine prickle. You could feel her presence behind you.

"Posture."

You straightened immediately, drawing your shoulders back and keeping your chin level.

"Good," Caitlyn sounded pleased. "You're calmer than last time."

"You ready, sweetheart?" Vi asked, voice softening a fraction.

You nodded. Then — darkness.

Vi slid a blindfold over your eyes, robbing you of your sight and silencing the rest of the world.

You gasped, skin prickling instantly. It was such a small act, but it stole the last shred of control from you. Your body reacted violently to the loss of sight. Your pussy throbbed.

You felt it then—the shift. Something opening inside you, the edges of your thoughts beginning to blur. You were starting to fall.

"Colour?" Caitlyn asked.

"Green," you whispered.

You barely registered the soft sound of Caitlyn stepping closer, her heels tapping across the floor, controlled and deliberate. Then you heard something else: the slow, unmistakable slide of leather through belt loops. The sound wasn't loud, but it carved through you, straight through your belly and right into your cunt.

Your mouth went dry.

You stayed perfectly still, the blindfold pressing gently into your temples, the darkness wrapping around you like a set of hands. Your knees burned slightly against the carpet, your thighs parted just enough for the cool air to kiss the heat between your legs.

"Open," she ordered.

You parted your lips instantly. Obediently.

The belt was thick leather. You could feel it before it touched you. Caitlyn pressed the thick leather strap into your mouth, resting it gently against your tongue. Not enough to make you gag, but enough so you could taste the cold steel of the buckle. It was a physical representation of the weight of obedience, in your mouth. It was humbling.

You whimpered, knees twitching as you squeezed your thighs together.

Caitlyn moved again, and suddenly the belt was around your neck. She looped it once, deliberately around your neck like a leash. The pressure was light, but it was everything.

"Follow."

You crawled. The leash guided you forward in controlled, slow pulls. Every movement sent liquid heat dripping from your core. You could feel it, slick and hot between your legs. You could smell yourself, your arousal, the wetness coating your inner thighs.

The humiliation just made you even wetter.

You could smell Vi again, and you knew you were getting closer to whatever came next. Your heart pounded behind your ribs, slow and heavy, body flushed with heat of anticipation.

The belt tightened. A slight tug, and then release.

"Stop."

You froze mid-crawl, palms flat on the floor, body trembling.

"Up," she ordered, and you followed on instinct.

Kneeling tall, still blindfolded. The room smelt like leather, cologne, and your sex.

The air shifted and you could feel both of them now, one on either side of you. Caitlyn removed the belt with one hand and tossed it onto the cushions with an easy flick.

Her fingers returned to your jaw, tilting your head up. You whimpered at the contact, your skin burning where she touched you.

"Still thinking, aren't you?"

You swallowed, nodding slightly. Caitlyn's thumb pressed lightly into the corner of your jaw, a silent warning not to move more than you were given permission too.

"Answer me," she demanded.

"Yes," you admitted, voice soft and shaking. "A little."

Vi shifted, close enough now so you could hear the heat of her thigh against your arms. But she didn't touch you yet. She left you suspended in anticipation.

"That's okay," she murmured. "You can think for now. We just won't let you keep it."

A quiet sound left your throat before you could stop it. A needy, helpless whine.

Caitlyn released your jaw, her fingers sliding down your neck, tracing where the belt had rested moments ago. The ghost of pressure lingered, and your body reacted instantly.

"See how your body listens before your head?" Caitlyn said. "That's what we're going to use."

Vi's hands touched your thighs. Just fingertips, tracing upwards. The touch sent a violent tremor through your core. Your body jerked slightly, instinctively, but Caitlyn's hand on your neck tightened in warning to stay still.

"You're already squirming," Vi smirked, amused.

Her palms slid higher, slow and warm, felling up the insides of your thighs. She didn't go between them, just teasing you, hovering so close to where you were aching.

"You're soaked, baby."

You whimpered. Your thighs tried to rub together.

Caitlyn tightened her grip again, voice now low. "Stay still."

You bit your lip and froze, muscles taut. It was so hard. Vi's fingers slid up your stomach now, lightly tracing over your breasts. She cupped them slowly, deliberately. She pinched one nipple gently, rolling it between her fingers.

Your hips twitched again.

"I said still," Caitlyn hissed.

You bit your lip, and forced your body into stillness. Your breathing came in ragged puffs now. Between your legs, your wetness pooled, your arousal growing so fast, so intense, it felt unbearable.

Vi's voice dropped. "She's dripping," she said with a grin in her voice. "Just from being blindfolded and a few touches. That sweet little brain really did melt for us, huh?"

The ache between your legs flared into something sharp and desperate. Her thumb brushed over your nipple once more, lighter this time, then pulled away entirely.

A broken sound tore from your throat. "Vi—"

The loss of her hands sent your thoughts spiralling. Your hips rolled helplessly, chasing sensation that was no longer there. Your mind was scattered completely now.

Your breathing had gone ragged, your shoulder shaking, knees threading to slide apart further, as if your body might just collapse and fall apart.

"That's it," Caitlyn said, hand still on your neck, anchoring you. "You're slipping."

Your thoughts were thinner now, like fog, not quite solid. Your body felt weightless, you limbs buzzing with sensation. Your world narrowed to Caitlyn's presence, Vi's touch, and the absence of release.

You were falling. You wanted it. Needed it. You were already half-gone, half-held. Floating just under the surface, wanting to be pulled in deeper.

"Yes," you gasped. "I-I can't—"

"Sweetheart," Vi's voice now, "you were so close just now."

Your body shuddered violently at the words. Frustrated tears burned in your eyes. You were so close to release, wanted it so badly, and now it was so far away.

"Please—" you sobbed, the words tearing free now that your mind was gone and you couldn't hold it back anymore. "Please— I need to—"

"No," Vi cut you off instantly.

The word shattered something in you. Your chest hitched, a quiet cry slipping out as tears finally spilled. You didn't even feel embarrassed anymore. That part of you had dissolved somewhere between the blindfold and the leash. You were nothing but want now. Just pure need.

"Please— I'll do anything—" your voice cracked, the words spilling out unchecked, desperate. You didn't even know if you were given permission to speak, let alone beg. It didn't even matter to you anymore.

Caitlyn hummed thoughtfully. Then— she lifted the blindfold.

Light flooded back in and you gasped, blinking through the tears, vision swimming. And then Caitlyn was right there, right in front of you.

She tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet her gaze.

Her lips tilted up dangerously at how wrecked you looked.

Her voice was soft, but edged with steel. "Anything?"

You nodded, wide-eyed and wrecked. "Yes, yes—anything— please, Caitlyn—"

She released her hand on your throat, pressing her heel forward, polished leather toe catching the light. She leaned back, posture almost regal, as if this command meant nothing to her. "Ride my heel until you cum."

Heat rushed through you so fast it made you dizzy. Humiliation flared, hot and sharp, crawling up your spine as you realised what she was asking. What she was ordering you to do.

Shaking, you crawled forward and lowered yourself onto her shoe. You could feel how soaked you were as you dragged your puffy clit against the unforgiving shape of her shoe. Your slickness instantly covered it, and the sensation made you moan aloud.

Humiliation surged through you like fire, but you couldn't stop rocking your hips in short, needy circles against her foot.

"Oh- oh god—" you sobbed, rubbing your cunt against her heel, hips stuttering. Shame and arousal twisted together until you couldn't differentiate between the two.

Caitlyn didn't move. She watched you as if you were a thing, something owned. Her indifferences only deepens the shame.

Behind you, Vi seized your tits, pinching your nipples cruelly.

You sobbed.

Every rut of your hips sent more heat through you, dragging you closer and closer to the edge. The lewd sounds of your wetness rubbing against Caitlyn's shoe filled the room.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, from shame and the overwhelming surrender. You weren't in your head anymore. You weren't anywhere except here. On your knees. Naked. Owned. You didn't exist anywhere else.

Vi whispered filthy praises into your ear, voice low and hot. "That's it, good girl. So far gone, aren't you? Just a wet, needy mess on Caitlyn's heel."

Your body tightened, your grinding now growing more desperate. "Please— ah— can I cum?" you pleaded, barely able to hold yourself together.

Caitlyn didn't move, just gave you a nod.

You came with a broken sob, thighs trembling, the pleasure tearing through you in overwhelming waves. You clung to Caitlyn's thigh, shaking, humping her heel like an animal in heat. You kept grinding, crying, until you had nothing left. Until you collapsed into Vi's arms, boneless and soft and undone.

Subspace swallowed you whole.

Vi brushed your hair back from your tear-streaked face, her touch sweet against your burning skin. "You're still twitchy," she murmured, amused. "You're not done yet, are you?"

You whimpered, shaking your head. Words felt too far away, too complicated. You floated in that soft space where obedience was everything, and nothing existed except for the echo of their voices and the ache between your legs.

Caitlyn's voice answered for you. "Not even close."

You barely registered as Vi shifted behind you, slowly guiding you back against her body, your spine against her chest. You let her move you like a doll, pliant and mindless. She spread your legs easily, baring your throbbing cunt to the cool air and Caitlyn's icy gaze.

Her hand moved over your breast, squeezing and groping while you moaned softly. Her other hand slid lower, fingertips gliding over your stomach.

You tensed up, already too raw, too sensitive.

But Vi only laughed under her breath. "Oh no, baby," she whispered. "You don't get to tense up now."

Her fingers dipped between your soaked thighs, brushing over your clit in slow, lazy circles.

Your body convulsed. You gasped, legs twitching, hips trying to jerk away, but her leg came up to hold yours in place.

"Still," Caitlyn ordered from the couch. "You'll stay perfectly still for her."

You whimpered helplessly, eyes glassy. Your clit was so sensitive it ached, raw and swollen from your previous orgasm. But Vi kept touching you, soft and maddening, too much and not enough at the same time.

"Vi— too much—"

"I know it's too much," Vi purred. "But you love it, don't you? Such a good girl for us."

The words hit somewhere deep, curling around your chest and dragging your impossible further down. You were barely in your body anywhere, reduced to need.

Her fingers kept circling, not trying to give you any relief at all. She was expertly unraveling you, taking every last ounce of control there was left. She was stripping you down to nothing but obedient.

You bucked up again, instinctive, desperate.

Caitlyn's voice was colder now. "You were told to stay still."

You sobbed in frustration, forcing your body to go still again, even as your legs shook.

Vi's lips brushed against your ear. "You can take it. You're a good girl for me, yeah? So just— take it."

The shame made you burn up. It melted into you, into the haze of pleasure and need. You couldn't stop sobbing now, not from the denial, or from the humiliation, but from how deeply you needed to obey. From how fully you were theirs.

"Please," you begged, breathless and broken. "Please let me—"

"Not yet," Vi's voice was sickeningly sweet, dragging her words out. "You don't get to come because you want to. You come when we give it to you."

You groaned in frustration, which Vi punished by pinching your nipples with force. Her fingers teased your entrance but never pressed in, never giving you the fullness you needed.

Caitlyn's voice was a quiet threat. "She'll edge you until you break. And you'll take it."

"I will," you choked out. "I will— just, please— I need to come—"

You cried out when Vi's fingers sped up, then slowed again. Your hands clenched into fists, fingernails digging into your palms, your entire body hovering on the edge of release.

"God, look at her," Vi spoke like you weren't even in the room at all. "She's falling apart."

"She's not done falling," Caitlyn said, tone unreadable. "Keep going."

The way they spoke like you weren't even in the room was so fucking hot. It made something in you tighten. A sob slipped from your lips. You felt yourself clench around nothing. You were so wet, so slick, you couldn't even think. You just wanted them.

Vi's fingers don't stop working on your clit. Your body jolts with it, the edge is right there. Just beneath the surface.

You shake your head, breathe catching, fresh tears sliding down your face as you feel your orgasm getting closer.

"Vi—" you moaned. "Vi— I can't— I'm—"

"You're what, baby?" she teased, sweetly, cruelly. Her voice is warm against your ear as her fingers keep working, slow and steady. "You're close again? Just like that?"

You nod, the motion jerky and frantic. Your chest heaves with a sob. "I can't—can't hold it— Please! I'm gonna—"

Caitlyn steps closer, heels clicking on the floor, each one landing like a hammer behind your ribs. She crouches before you, calm and detached, as if you're not spread open and ruined in Vi's lap. Her hand finds your chin, tilting it up. Fingers digging roughly into your jaw.

"You'd come without permission?" she asks, voice like ice.

"No—No, I—" you try to shake your head, to deny it, but your hips are twitching, trying to grind against Vi's hand now, pathetic and needy and soaked.

"Control yourself," Caitlyn snaps. She lifts up a perfectly manicured hand and brings it down on your thigh.

The sting of the slap snaps your attention back to your body. You freeze, choking on a sob as the orgasm slips away from you again. No release. Just empty, aching need.

Caitlyn stands over you.

You were undone, broken open. You're spread open on the floor, arms limp, thighs shaking from holding yourself back. Every inch of your skin is flushed, burning.

You've been denied over and over, yet you still took it. Obediently, beautifully.

Vi pulled her hand away, leaving you clenching around nothing. You didn't whine. You didn't cry. You just took it.

"Look at her. She's not fighting it anymore," Vi murmurs.

"She's ready," Caitlyn says.

You flinch when Caitlyn touches you again. Two fingers under your chin, guiding your face up. Even through your tears, you hold her gaze. Barely.

"Do you want to come?"

You nodded weakly.

"No," she says, voice razor-sharp, "use your words. Beg properly."

"Please, Caitlyn," you suck in a trembling breath, voice shredded. "Please let me come. I need it. I need it so bad— Please, I'm yours, I'm yours— just please let me come."

She stares down at you for one long, heavy moment. She held your gaze, measured you. Then she tilts her head, lips curling up almost imperceptibly. "Vi?"

The second she says her name, Vi's fingers are back on you, this time with no mercy. Your clit throbbed the moment she touched it, the friction perfect. She doesn't waste a second, she knows exactly what your body needs.

Her fingers press on your clit, no longer teasing, just fast and direct. Your whole body jolts with the contact, hips jerking as you let out a sharp guttural moan. You squirm, and Caitlyn doesn't tell you to stay still anymore. She lets you fall apart.

Your orgasm crashes into you within seconds, relief and pain and pleasure blurred together as you came, sobbing through it. Your orgasm wrecks you, your cunt spasming around nothing as your wetness soaked your thighs and the floor beneath. you.

Vi held you through it, arm around your waist as you shook in her lap. When it ended, you were weightless, completely gone.

Then Caitlyn was beside you, brushing your hair out of your face. "Now, what do you say?"

You blinked at her through hazy, fucked-out eyes.

"Thank you," you whispered. "Thank you for letting me cum, Caitlyn."

Your body trembled, even with the weight of Vi's arms holding you together. You weren't sobbing anymore, tears were just quietly leaking down your cheeks. Your breaths came in shallow bursts, and every part of you felt like you had been hollowed out and rewired.

You didn't know how long you stayed in her arms, you just knew that had you.

Vi shifted, loosening her grip, pulling a soft blanket from somewhere and wrapping it around your shaking frame. It was warm, thick. Soft. The moment it touched your skin, you broke again—a quiet, overwhelmed sob.

"Oh, baby," Vi murmured, cradling the back of your head with one hand, the other firm around your waist. "It's okay, I've got you. You're safe."

Safe. The word settled deep in your chest. You hadn't realised how deep under you'd gone.

Caitlyn knelt in front of you again, this time without command in her gaze. Just a calm, steady care.

"Darling," she said softly. "Can you look at me?"

You blinked. Tried to look up. Your eyes felt heavy, raw, but you forced them open and up to find her.

"There you are. Good girl." She smiled, a real one this time. "Colour?"

Your lips parted, and it was a few seconds before your voice came out. "Green." You hesitated. "Just...really far down."

Vi pressed a kiss into your hair. "We know. You did so good, such a good girl for us. You were perfect."

Caitlyn didn't move away, letting you feel her calm, quiet energy to tether you back to the present.

"You followed beautifully. You gave us everything. Let us take care of you now."

You didn't have words for the ache that bloomed in your chest at her words. Gratitude, maybe? Love, maybe. It was something raw and real and tender that you couldn't find a place for in your body.

Caitlyn disappeared for a moment, then returned with a bottle of water. "Small sips," she instructed, gently guiding you.

Every sip of water brought you closer to your body again, grounding you through your senses.

When Caitlyn cleaned you up with a warm cloth, it didn't feel like cleaning, it felt like worship. And when she was done, she leaned in and brushed a soft kiss over your temple. "We've got you."

Eventually, Vi carried you to the couch, wrapping you completely in the blanket. Vi brought you a snack, something small and sweet but you couldn't remember what it was, and they sat with you until you stopped shaking.

caitlyn always held you like something delicate. her touch was careful, her voice softened when it was just the two of you — her polished accent wrapping around the word darling like silk every time she said it.

her thumb stroked over your jaw as you sat curled against her in her chair, kissing at your temple. “such a lovely thing you are,” she murmured, low and reverent.

but tonight…you wanted something different.

your cheeks burned before the words even made it past your lips. you squirmed in her lap, tugging at the hem of her coat. “…cait?”

she hummed, half distracted with brushing your hair back. “yes, darling?”

your throat closed up a little, embarrassment squeezing your chest. still, you forced it out, so quiet she almost didn’t hear: “be mean to me.”

her hand stilled. those blue eyes snapped to yours, surprise flickering there. “mean?” she repeated, like the word didn’t fit in her mouth. her brow knit, lips parting just slightly. “to you?”

you fidgeted, unable to hold her gaze. “uhm y–yeah…degrade me. call me a bad girl or something you know.” you bit your lip. “i..i want it.”

silence stretched. her touch returned, tracing your cheek, only slower now. thoughtful. her voice dropped to a murmur, tinged with disbelief. “but you’re my good girl.”

something about the way she said it, so firm, so sure, made you whine. “pleaase cait…”

her jaw tightened. you could see her thinking, weighing it. then, all at once, her expression sharpened.

“on the floor,” she ordered softly. not gentle now, but precise, commanding.

you scrambled off her lap, heart hammering. she stood tall above you, unbuttoning her coat with elegant slowness, though she didn’t shed it. boots polished, shining even in the low light.

she tilted her head. “you want me to be cruel? fine.” her tone cut clean, aristocratic and merciless. “on your knees, love. show me how badly you want it.”

you obeyed instantly, heat flooding your body.

caitlyn lifted one leg, the heel of her boot nudging between your thighs. she didn’t even look at you at first, adjusting her gloves, her posture still regal. only then did she glance down, lips curling. “look at you. desperate little mess. grinding against my boots like a dog.”

a shocked whimper escaped you — half arousal, half humiliation.

“pathetic,” she continued smoothly, voice dripping with disdain now. “all that begging, just for me to let you rut against my shoes. is this what you wanted, hm? to prove you’re nothing but a filthy, needy, bad girl?”

you nodded frantically, rubbing yourself against the firm leather.

“words,” she snapped, tugging your hair back so you had to look up at her.

“y–yes! i’m a filthy girl, your filthy girl,” you choked, tears stinging.

her laugh was sharp, cruel. “my good girl wanted to be degraded, and now she’s whining on the floor. do you even realise how pathetic you look right now? ruining yourself on my boots? i should make you lick them clean after, since you’re so eager to debase yourself.”

the shame burned in your chest, hotter than any orgasm. and caitlyn? she just smiled down at you, sharp and cruel, finally giving you exactly what you’d asked for.

your cheek burned from where caitlyn’s glove held you in place, fingers knotted in your hair. you whined into her wrist, thighs trembling as you rocked against the smooth leather. every drag of the boot against your clit sent another jolt through you, shame flooding hotter than any orgasm could.

“look at you,” she murmured, almost pitying. but her smirk ruined the softness. “red cheeks, glassy eyes…my perfect little darling reduced to this.” she pressed her heel harder into you, and you gasped, hips grinding without thought.

her eyes narrowed. “you’re not even trying to be subtle. rutting like some desperate mutt in heat.”

“ ohh caitlynn!” your voice cracked, needy and high.

her boot shifted, the edge of the sole grinding perfectly against your clit. your body jerked.

she chuckled low in her throat. “pathetic. soaking my leather like this? if i’d known my good girl was such a slut, i’d have had you down here weeks ago.”

tears spilled over before you could stop them. not from pain, not really, just the sharp sting of humiliation mixing with the sharp edge of pleasure.

she cooed mockingly, tilting your chin up. “crying already? how delicious. my little whore wanted to be degraded, and now look. ruined.”

you keened, rocking harder, chasing the friction.

her grip tightened in your hair. “say it.”

you blinked up at her, dazed. “s-say what?”

“say what you are.” she ground her boot harder, deliberate and merciless.

“ah—! i’m a bad girl—”

“wrong,” she hissed, cutting you off. “you’re worse than that. you’re a filthy little slut who gets off on debasing herself at my feet.”

the words struck like lightning. shame twisted in your stomach, pushing you closer and closer —

“say it, darling. beg for it. tell me how worthless you are.”

you sobbed, the sound caught between desperation and pleasure. “please! i’m a worthless slut, just your dirty toy — fuck, please let me cum, caitlyn please—”

her smirk spread, sharp as a blade. “that’s more like it.”

her boot pressed harder, heel grinding into you, the ridges of the leather dragging mercilessly over your swollen clit. you fell apart with a cry, thighs shaking as the orgasm ripped through you — wetness soaking through her boot, heat and shame exploding in your chest.

caitlyn didn’t let up. she kept her heel steady, watching you thrash, sobbing against her grip. “oh, look at you. look how easily you come when i put you on the floor. do you even realise how humiliating this is? you can’t even think without my boot between your legs.”

you whimpered, too overstimulated, trying to squirm away — only for her to yank your hair and force you to grind again.

“no no, darling. i didn’t say you could stop. i want you to ruin yourself until you can’t stand. until all you can think of is how pathetic you looked on my floor.”

you sobbed, rubbing against her heel again, every movement raw and desperate.

“good girl,” she drawled cruelly. “come on, make a mess. show me just how badly you need to be humiliated.”

you came again, and again — writhing, whining, soaking her boots until you collapsed forward, shaking.

caitlyn finally pulled her boot away, the leather slick and shining with your arousal. she looked down at the mess, then at you, hair ruined, face wet with tears.

she tilted your chin up with her gloved fingers, sharp smile curving her lips. “now. clean them.”

the command made your stomach drop and clench all at once.

“go on, darling,” she whispered sweetly, mockingly, as if she hadn’t just torn you apart. “show me how grateful you are.”

I rolled my eyes, too stubborn to give her the satisfaction. “Maybe I just like testing how far you’ll go.”

She stopped in front of me, close enough that I could see the sharp line of her jaw, the subtle twitch at the corner of her mouth. “Then I suppose we’ll find out, won’t we?”

The first strike landed across my thighs—sharp, stinging, nothing gentle about it. I bit down hard, refusing to give her a sound, even as heat bloomed across my skin. Caitlyn’s palm lingered against my cheek, not for comfort but to tilt my chin up. “You’re going to tell me why I’m right,” she murmured, voice low and deliberate.

I only smirked, eyes defiant even with my skirt already hiked up and my bare thighs.

The first strike of the belt landed sharply, a crack that left me to gasp. Another followed. Then Caitlyn stopped—resting the leather against my skin, letting the sting bloom. “Why am I right?” I bit my lip, refusing to give in. Silence stretched. Caitlyn’s answer was another lash, firmer this time, followed by a pause where her hand traced the welt with slow possession. “Say it.”

Her body shuddered under the next blow, the belt singing across her curves. Tears blurred at the edges of her stubborn glare. “Why. Am. I. Right?” Each word was punctuated with leather and stillness—pain, then silence, the demand echoing until resistance cracked into breathless confession.

“Tell me,” she ordered, her voice as precise as the snap of leather. “Why do you think you’re right?”

I ground my teeth. “Because I am.”

Wrong answer. Another sharp strike, this one biting deeper, forcing a hiss from between my lips.

Her hand caught my chin, tilting my face up. “Say it properly.”

I held her gaze, my chest heaving, every ounce of me screaming not to give in. And yet, under that stare, I felt my resolve waver. Her hand slid down without warning, fingers pressing between my thighs with a cruel sort of patience. She didn’t give me what I wanted—she teased, circled, and coaxed me, drawing me closer and closer to the edge, only to slow when I thought I’d tip over. “Answer me,” Caitlyn breathed, her lips brushing my ear. A whimper tore from my throat before I could stop it. My hips betrayed me, straining toward her touch even as my mouth stayed stubbornly shut.

Her fingers pressed harder, quickening just enough to send me spiraling before retreating again, leaving me raw and shaking. “You’re trembling,” she whispered, and I hated how right she was. “Still think you’re clever?” My body burned with the contradiction—every nerve screaming yes, every shred of pride clinging to no.

“Open your mouth,” she commanded. I obeyed, lips parting, though my pride bristled at how quickly I complied. Instead of a kiss, fabric slid past my tongue—soft at first, then thick as she pushed it deeper. My muffled protest made her smile, a slow, knowing curve of her lips. The gag wasn’t just shoved there and forgotten. She tied it in place with purposeful care, knotting it behind my head until the fabric pulled snug against my teeth. I tried testing it, jaw straining, but it held. My own spit began to gather at the corners of my mouth, dampening the cloth, a humiliating reminder that she’d stripped away even the power of words. “Better,” Caitlyn said simply, brushing a strand of hair back from my cheek as if I were some wayward thing she’d just tamed.

Her fingers slid back between my thighs without warning, and my entire body jolted. Every touch was sharper now—heightened by the gag, by the silence forced on me. She teased mercilessly, dragging me to the edge with quick, skilled strokes, only to slow when my muscles tightened. My muffled pleas spilled into the gag, desperate little sounds I hated myself for making.

She leaned in, her breath hot at my ear. “That’s right. I don’t need your clever mouth. Just your body telling me the truth.” I shook my head furiously, refusing to give her that satisfaction. But my traitorous hips arched into her hand, chasing every flick of her fingers. When I tried to twist away, she only laughed softly and pinned me down, her grip unyielding. I was trembling, my eyes stinging as tears threatened, spit dampening the gag with every gasp. It was too much, and still she gave me more—her pace relentless, her focus steady as if this wasn’t torment but simple correction.

“You’ll learn,” she said, calm as ever, like this was nothing more than a lesson. Her free hand caught my chin, tilting my head so I couldn’t avoid her gaze. She spat lightly onto my gag, the wet heat seeping through the fabric, mingling with my own saliva. The humiliation burned almost as hot as the pleasure tearing through me. I whimpered, cheeks wet, body jerking helplessly against her.

“Beautiful,” Caitlyn murmured, her thumb smearing the mess across my cheek before returning to hold me still. “All those muffled little cries. So much more honest than your words.”

My body was betraying me, shuddering on the edge again and again, no chance to come down, no escape from the pace she set. Each time I thought she’d let me go over, she dragged me back, keeping me strung tight, unraveling.

I sobbed into the gag, frustration and need tangled, my chest heaving as every nerve lit up. But she still didn't stop.

By the time she finally pulled back, I was trembling, sweaty, my throat raw from muffled sounds. My body screamed for release, but she only smirked, running her thumb across my flushed cheek.

“Not yet,” Caitlyn murmured, her tone final, absolute. “You don’t deserve it.”

And just like that, she left me there—frustrated, breathless, gag still tied tight, belt coiled neatly in her hand.

When she left, I thought the worst was over. My body still trembled, sore and buzzing, every nerve humming with the remnants of her. The gag had been untied, the fabric left damp with spit on the nightstand, but the silence it left behind felt heavier than the cloth itself. I tried to calm down, to breathe, to pull myself back together. Twenty minutes felt like hours with the ache she’d left me in—my body is hot, and even with her absence, I still feel her.

I shifted against the sheets, frustrated at myself. Why couldn’t I stop shaking? The door opened. Caitlyn stepped inside with the same calm precision as before, her eyes swept over me, lingering on the mess between my thighs. Her mouth curved into that infuriating smile. “Still dripping?” she said, almost amused. “I leave you alone for twenty minutes, and you’re still begging for me.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. I shook my head, opening my mouth to deny it, but she raised a hand, cutting me off. “Don’t bother. I can see it.” She moved with slow purpose, setting something down on the chair. My stomach dropped when I saw the harness, the dark strap glinting faintly under the lamp.

“You wasted my time,” Caitlyn continued, slipping the harness into place, You’re going to ride until you can’t think, and you won’t stop until I say so.” My pulse hammered. I wanted to argue, to roll my eyes, to cling to my bratty pride. Instead, I sat frozen, throat dry, as she patted her thigh and leaned back against the headboard. “Come here.”

My legs moved before my brain caught up. I crawled into her lap, straddling her, the strap pressing against me. She held my hips, steadying me. “Good,” she murmured. “Now do the work. Show me you understand what wasting my time costs.” I lowered myself onto her slowly, biting back a moan, shame prickling at how quickly the sensation unraveled me. The stretch, the pressure—it was too much and not enough all at once. Caitlyn’s hands stayed firm on my waist, guiding only when I faltered.

“Faster,” she said. I obeyed, rocking against her, each movement scraping away at the last of my defiance. My thighs burned from the effort, my chest heaved, but Caitlyn sat steady beneath me, watching, waiting, making me prove myself.

When I faltered again, my hands flew up to her shoulders for balance, then to her throat. I meant it only for support, but her low chuckle told me she welcomed it. “Go on,” she said, voice sweet. “Hold on. Use me.”

Her pulse throbbed under my fingers, the power balance tilting and shifting, leaving me dizzy. I clung to her throat, riding harder, desperate to reach some end she refused to give me. Tears pricked my eyes again, the effort and the heat overwhelming. Caitlyn tilted her head back, eyes half-lidded, lips parting. “Messy girl,” she whispered. “Go on. Show me how much you need me.”

“Good,” Caitlyn breathed. Her hands tightened on my waist, forcing me to keep moving. “That’s it. That’s my girl.” I sobbed, hips stuttering as I rode her harder, the strap hitting me in ways that stole my breath. My body shook, slick and frantic, chasing release I could no longer deny. Every muscle screamed, every nerve begged, every sound muffled by my own ragged gasps. “Say it,” Caitlyn demanded, voice steady even as I fell apart. “Tell me I’m right.”

My head dropped to her shoulder, sweat slicking my skin. “You—” My voice cracked. “You’re right.” Her hand tangled in my hair, yanking my head back so she could see my face. “Louder.” “I’m right?” she coaxed. “You’re right!” I gasped, breaking completely. “I deserved it—I deserved to be punished—” The words tumbled out with my climax, shuddering and messy as I moaned out for her.

Caitlyn held me through it. She kept me moving until I collapsed against her chest. My confession hung in the air, raw and humiliating, but true. For a long moment, only our breathing filled the room, mine uneven and hers calm as ever. Then she tilted my chin, forcing me to meet her eyes. “At the end of the day,” she said softly, “you’re my good girl.”

Tears blurred my vision, but I nodded, the words slipping out without hesitation. “Thank you.”

Your resilience. The way you could brush off the worst of days with a laugh, the way you always seemed untouchable, unshaken by the horrors you both had witnessed. To her, you were more than just her partner—you were her anchor. The warmth in a city that often felt too cold.

And maybe that’s why she didn’t see it.

Didn’t see the exhaustion beneath your smile. Didn’t see the weight you carried behind your easy laughter. Didn’t see just how close you had been to breaking.

Until you finally did.

=

The night was quiet when the mission went south.

Too quiet.

A bad omen.

It was supposed to be a simple patrol. A quick sweep through the lower districts, one of many routine nights as an enforcer. Smugglers had been moving weapons through Zaun, and Caitlyn had a lead that this rundown warehouse was a part of their supply chain.

In and out. Easy work. At least, that’s what she thought. But as soon as you both stepped inside, that false sense of security shattered.

The dim glow of flickering lamps barely illuminated the rusted walls, casting long shadows that stretched unnervingly across the concrete floor. There was a moment—just a split second—where everything was still. Then, a sudden shuffle of feet. A whisper. A metallic click.

An ambush. Figures emerged from the darkness, a dozen at least, armed and waiting.

Caitlyn’s instincts kicked in immediately. With a sharp breath, she raised her rifle, her mind already calculating escape routes, cover, angles.

"Enforcers! Take them out!" Shouts rang out. Weapons were drawn. The fight began. But you—

You just stood there.

You saw them coming. You heard the shouting, the boots pounding against the ground, the unmistakable rush of adrenaline that should have sent you into action.

But nothing came. No instinct. No drive. Just… silence. A dull ringing in your ears, drowning out the chaos.

A part of you knew Caitlyn needed you, that she was counting on your backup, but another part—the part that had been whispering to you for weeks, months—grew louder.

Why bother? What’s the point? Wouldn’t it be easier to just… let go?

The first blow struck before you even flinched.

A brutal impact against your ribs, a sharp pain exploding across your side, knocking the breath from your lungs. Your body stumbled backward from the force, but still, you didn’t raise your fists.

Didn’t block. Didn’t fight.

Another hit—fists slamming into your jaw. A warm, metallic taste filled your mouth as blood dripped down your chin. But still, you stayed still. Let them hit you. Let them break you.

Because, in some cruel, twisted way—it felt like relief.

"Y/N!" Caitlyn’s voice cut through the fog like a gunshot, sharp and desperate.

You barely registered the real gunshot that followed, but you felt the force of it—the way the air shifted as a bullet whizzed past, taking down one of your attackers in an instant.

The chaos around you shifted, the smugglers scrambling at the sudden retaliation.

Caitlyn was moving before she even thought. A blur of precision, each shot landing clean. Two, three, four bodies dropped in seconds. The remaining thugs tried to flee, but Caitlyn didn’t let them—not until the last one hit the ground with a sickening crunch, her rifle slamming into his head with brutal efficiency.

Her chest heaved. Her blood pounded in her ears. Then, her head snapped toward you. You were still standing, barely. Bruised, bloodied, but alive.

Her breath caught—relief, fury, panic, all crashing into her at once. And then she was on you. Grabbing you, fingers digging into your shoulders, shaking you hard enough that your head snapped back to focus. "What the hell was that?!"

You blinked slowly, your expression eerily blank.

A thin trail of blood ran from your split lip. A bruise was already forming along your cheekbone. And yet… there was no fight in your eyes. No tension in your stance.

Just… emptiness.

Caitlyn’s grip tightened. "Why didn’t you fight back?"

Silence.

You looked away, something flickering across your face—something raw, something fragile. "Does it matter?"

Caitlyn froze. Her stomach dropped.

For the first time since she had met you, you looked tired. Not the exhaustion that came after a long shift, not the kind that sleep could fix, but something deeper. Something that had been building for far too long.

Her breath hitched. And in that moment, something inside her broke.

She had always believed you were strong. Unshakable. The one person who could take anything Piltover threw at them and still smile at the end of the day.

But now—

Now she realized she had been so blind.

Her hands trembled as they moved from your shoulders to your face, her thumbs brushing gently over the bruises blooming beneath your skin. She tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet her gaze. "It matters to me." Your lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

"It matters because I almost lost you today," she continued, voice thick with emotion. "Because you let them hurt you instead of fighting back. Because—" She swallowed, blinking back the sting in her eyes. "Because I care about you, Y/N. More than you know."

You inhaled sharply, eyes widening just slightly. You could see it now. The fear in her gaze. The unfiltered pain behind her words. And it hurt.

Because you never wanted this. Never wanted her to look at you like this, like she was afraid of what might happen if she let you out of her sight.

Never wanted her to see the cracks in your mask.

Her touch softened, fingers ghosting over your cheek. "You're not alone," she whispered. "Whatever you're carrying, you don’t have to do it alone."

You wanted to believe her. Gods, you wanted to. But the weight in your chest had been there for so long. Pressing down, suffocating. You didn’t know how to let it go.

Didn’t know how to let someone in.

Caitlyn seemed to sense your hesitation. Because she didn’t let go. She didn’t push. Instead, she pulled you forward—slowly, carefully—until you were pressed against her.

Her arms wrapped around you, her warmth seeping into your frozen skin. She held you tightly, like she was terrified that if she let go, you would slip away for good.

"Please," she whispered, voice cracking. "Let me help you."

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers clutching at the fabric of her uniform.

And for the first time in a long time—longer than you could remember—you let yourself lean into her.

You let yourself believe, even if only for a moment, that maybe, just maybe, someone would catch you if you fell.

VI

You always smiled.

No matter how hard things got, no matter how brutal the streets of Zaun could be—you were the one who kept people going. The bright spot in the darkest alleys. The girl who always had a joke, a laugh, a reason to push forward.

No one ever questioned it.

Because if you smiled, you had to be okay… right?

=

Vi didn’t believe in fate. She believed in fighting. For what you wanted. For who you loved. That’s why the unease gnawing at her gut tonight pissed her off.

She had been trying to ignore it for hours, trying to shake the damn feeling crawling up her spine. It sat in her chest, heavy and unrelenting, like a bad bruise that just wouldn’t fade.

She stood behind the bar at The Last Drop, idly drying a mug as the crowd buzzed around her.

Vander was working the far end, caught up in a conversation with some regulars. Mylo was running his mouth, probably talking himself into trouble. Claggor was doing his usual rounds, keeping an eye on things.

Powder had been hanging off Vi’s arm all night until Vi finally told her to go upstairs and get some sleep. That had been hours ago. And still, the feeling didn’t go away.

Something was wrong.

Her fingers tapped against the wooden counter. She hadn’t seen you all day. Not at breakfast. Not in the usual bickering between Mylo and Powder. Not at the bar, where you’d always sidle up next to her, smirking, trying to get her to sneak you an extra drink when Vander wasn’t looking.

At first, she figured you were just off doing your own thing. Maybe you were out. Maybe you just needed space. But the longer the night stretched on, the worse it got. Because you never just disappeared like this.

The mug slammed against the counter. Mylo shot her a look, but Vi ignored him. Her fists clenched at her sides. No. Something was wrong.

She wasn’t waiting any longer.

She shoved her way out from behind the bar, ignoring the way Vander glanced at her as she moved. She didn’t have time to explain. Didn’t have time to say anything.

She was already heading toward the back of the bar, her boots thudding against the wooden floor.

The air was thick with cigarette smoke and cheap liquor, the dim lanterns casting flickering shadows across the walls. Normally, she could drown it all out. But right now, it felt suffocating. She took the stairs two at a time.

"Y/N?" Her voice was firm as she stepped into the hall.

Silence.

Her stomach dropped. She passed Powder’s room, the door slightly open. Soft breathing. She was asleep. Good. She wouldn’t see whatever this was.

Vi didn’t stop. Your door was closed. That cold, sinking feeling in her chest turned into something sharp. She stepped closer. Knocked once.

"Y/N?" Nothing. Her breath hitched. Another knock, harder this time. "Y/N, open the damn door." Still nothing. Then she noticed— The door wasn’t just closed.

It was locked.

Her pulse roared in her ears. She didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. She kicked the door open. The wood splintered under the force of it, crashing inward. The noise barely registered.

Because—

Because—

Oh, fuck.

You were slumped against the bed, body limp, skin too pale. Your breathing was slow. Too slow. And on the floor—an empty vial. Her heart slammed against her ribs so hard it hurt.

"No. No, no, no—" She was at your side in an instant, grabbing your shoulders, shaking you roughly. "Y/N! Wake up—what the fuck did you do?!" Your head lolled, eyes barely cracking open. Hazy. Unfocused. Wrong.

"Vi..." Your voice was weak. Barely there. Like you were already slipping. Vi’s chest ached.

"Shit—shit!" Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She pulled you up against her, patting your cheeks, trying to keep you here. "You’re okay, you’re okay—just stay with me, alright?" Her voice cracked, panic bleeding into every syllable.

She had been in fights before. She had taken punches, thrown them, broken bones, gotten back up, and kept swinging. But this—this wasn’t something she could fight.

And that terrified her.

"Why?" The word barely slipped out, hoarse and broken. "Why would you do this?" Your fingers curled weakly around her wrist. You barely had the strength to hold on. You turned your head slightly, like you wanted to look away.

Vi wasn’t having it.

Her fingers caught your chin, forcing you to look at her. "Talk to me." Desperation clung to every word. "Please, Y/N." A tear slipped from the corner of your eye, trailing down your cheek.

"I... I didn’t want to be a burden."

Vi went still. The words hit her like a sucker punch. A full-force gut-shot that knocked the air from her lungs.

"A burden?" She said it like it was something disgusting. Like it physically hurt to say it out loud. And then—

Rage.

Pain.

Helplessness.

"Do you even hear yourself?" Her voice was rough, almost shaking. "Do you know what it would’ve done to me if I found you too late? If I—" Her throat closed up. She couldn’t say it. She wouldn’t say it.

Her hands clenched into fists against your back, gripping the fabric of your shirt so tightly her knuckles burned.

You were supposed to be here.

With her.

Always.

Your breath hitched weakly, your body pressing against hers. You felt so fragile. She swallowed thickly, blinking hard to fight the sting in her eyes.

Then she brushed damp strands of hair from your forehead, fingers gentler now, lingering in the way she needed to touch you.

"You’re my family, dumbass." Her voice was raw. Rough. But her grip was gentle. "You don’t get to just leave." A breath. A beat. "Not without a fight."

Your chest trembled. Vi had always been a fighter. For Powder. For Vander. For Zaun.

For you.

And now, for the first time, you realized— She wasn’t just fighting for you. She was fighting to keep you. Your throat tightened. Your vision blurred.

"I don’t know how to stop feeling like this." Vi exhaled sharply. Shakily. Then she shifted, pressing her forehead against yours, grounding you in her.

"Then let me carry it with you." A sob broke from your lips. She held you tighter. And for the first time in what felt like forever—

You didn’t feel so alone.

CAITVI

The thing about masks is that people believe in them.

And you were good at it.

Flashing that brilliant smile, cracking jokes that made Vi snort into her drink and Caitlyn shake her head with soft, fond exasperation. Being the warmth between them. The glue that held the three of you together. Or at least, that’s what they thought.

Because if you smiled, they wouldn’t ask. If you laughed, they wouldn’t worry.

But no matter how much you smiled, no matter how much you pretended—it was never enough to silence the voice in your head.

The one that told you you weren’t enough. That they’d be better off without you.

So you did it.

The blade had felt cold at first. The sting had been sharp, almost electrifying. But when the warmth of your blood pooled at your wrists, dripping onto the tile, the world started to fade into something quiet.

Something peaceful. For the first time in forever, your mind wasn’t screaming.

Until Caitlyn and Vi found you.

=

The first thing Caitlyn noticed was the smell.

That sharp, metallic scent of blood. It made her stomach turn before she even fully processed why.

Then she saw you.

Her breath stopped.

There you were, slumped against the bathtub, skin pale—too pale—contrasted by the deep, red streaks trailing down your arms. Blood pooled beneath you, soaking into the white tile, seeping into the cracks like it belonged there. Your hands lay limp at your sides, fingers twitching weakly, your head lolling forward as if even existing had become too heavy to bear.

The world tilted.

"No—no, no, no—" The sound that left Caitlyn’s throat was barely human. A strangled cry of disbelief and pure, pure terror. She froze.

Just for a second. Because this—this—wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

But it was.

Her body moved before her mind caught up, knees slamming against the floor as she threw herself toward you. Her hands hovered over your wrists for the briefest second, like she was afraid touching you would break you further—then she clamped down.

Warm, slick, too much blood.

"VI!" Her scream tore through the apartment, a desperate, raw plea. The door slammed open so hard it nearly broke off its hinges.

Vi.

Caitlyn barely registered her presence—barely saw the way Vi’s chest heaved, the way her wild, frantic eyes locked onto you, and then—

And then Vi stopped breathing.

Because she saw.

She saw the blood. She saw Caitlyn’s hands shaking as they pressed down on your wrists. She saw the way your body wasn’t moving.

And for a moment—just a second—Vi was sixteen years old again, standing in the ruins of her home, looking at her dead parents, her fallen family, feeling that same, raw helplessness that she swore she’d never feel again.

Her stomach lurched.

"No. No, no, no—baby, stay with me," Vi choked out, running to you, falling to her knees so hard it hurt. Her hands hovered over you, trembling, afraid.

"I—I need cloth, something to—Vi, help me!" Caitlyn’s voice broke.

Vi snapped out of it.

"Shit—fuck—"

She ripped off her undershirt, barely noticing her own shaking fingers as she pressed it hard against your wrists, wrapping the fabric as tightly as she could, ignoring the way the blood seeped through instantly.

"Shit—shit—Y/N, you’re gonna be fine, okay? You’re gonna be fine. Stay with us, baby, please—" Vi pressed a shaking hand to your cheek. You were cold.

Too cold.

Her stomach twisted. "Why the fuck would you do this?" Her voice cracked, forehead pressing against yours as she held onto you like you were already slipping away.

Your eyelids fluttered. A weak, barely-there breath slipped past your lips. "V-Vi…?"

Vi let out a broken sound, something between a sob and a growl. "Yeah, baby, I’m here. We’re here. Stay awake for us, okay? Just—just keep looking at me."

Your eyelids fluttered again, but the effort of keeping them open seemed too much.

"Don’t—don’t move," Caitlyn whispered, her hands still clutching your wrists, her grip so tight it was almost painful. "Just hold on, love. Stay with us."

Your lips parted slightly, but no real words came out. Just a breath, just the faintest trace of a tired smile. "I'm sorry…"

Vi snapped.

"Don’t you fucking say that!" she barked, voice shaking violently. "Don’t you fucking dare." Your brow furrowed slightly, confusion flickering through your glassy gaze.

"I didn’t want to be a burden…" Caitlyn inhaled sharply.

She squeezed her eyes shut for just a second, willing herself to hold it together before she spoke, her voice steady but so, so broken. "You—are not a burden, Y/N."

Your breath hitched. "Then why do I feel like one…?" You hated how your voice broke, how weak you sounded.

Vi pulled back just enough to look at you, her face a mixture of heartbreak and fury—but not at you. Never at you.

"Because your head is feeding you lies, baby." Vi’s voice shook, her hands cupping your face like she was terrified you’d disappear if she let go. "You’re fucking everything to us. Everything."

Caitlyn swallowed past the lump in her throat, nodding fiercely. "We love you, Y/N. So much. Do you hear me?"

Your vision swam, everything hazy, but through the blur, you saw it.

The absolute terror in Vi’s eyes. The devastation in Caitlyn’s. The way they were holding onto you like you were the only thing keeping them breathing.

Your throat tightened. "I’m tired…"

Vi shook her head. "I know, baby. I know. But we’ve got you, okay? We’ve got you. Just hold on a little longer. Please."

Caitlyn took a slow, shuddering breath, squeezing your hands in hers even as the pressure hurt. "We’re not letting go of you. Ever."

Vi swallowed hard, pressing a kiss to your forehead, her lips trembling. "We need you, Y/N."

Your chest rose and fell in a slow, uneven rhythm. Your mind was a storm, a chaotic mess of exhaustion and numbness, but their voices—their love—was something solid.

Something that fought against the darkness trying to drag you under. Maybe the storm wasn’t over. Maybe the weight wouldn’t disappear overnight. But with them?

Maybe, just maybe, you could try again.

EKKO

Zaun never slept, but tonight, the air was eerily still—a rare silence that seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of what was about to unfold.

Ekko’s breath came in sharp, ragged gasps as he sprinted through the labyrinthine back alleys. His heart pounded louder than the clamor of any fight he’d ever known. This wasn’t a chase against enforcers or a desperate escape from chem-barons or even a cunning dodge from a Piltover patrol. No—this was something far more personal. This was the race to save you.

A Firelight scout’s panicked words still echoed in his ears—something about you, about explosives, about how you were alone near the old docks. That was all it took for him to bolt, his mind burning with dread and determination.

=

When he finally found you, the scene seared itself into his memory. You lay curled on the cracked stone floor of a deserted alley, your trembling hands clutching a small, flickering device. It was a bomb, its fuse a silent promise of impending catastrophe.

For a moment, time halted. Ekko’s heart lurched as he cried out, “Y/N!” The sound reverberated off cold walls, slicing through the heavy silence.

Your head snapped up, eyes wide with shock and raw fear, just as Ekko lunged forward. In a split-second decision, his hand snatched the explosive from your grip, his muscles straining as he hurled it away. The bomb sailed through the air and, with a deafening clatter, skidded across the uneven ground before coming to rest. The fuse sputtered and then, in an instant that seemed to stretch into eternity, the bomb exploded.

The blast tore through the alley, a violent burst of heat and force that threw debris and darkness into every corner. Ekko’s instincts, honed by years of defying time and fate, kicked in immediately. Without a moment’s hesitation, he threw himself forward, his arms outstretched to shield you from the fury of the explosion. In that chaotic moment, when the world around you was reduced to a maelstrom of light, sound, and raw energy, his arms became a sanctuary—an anchor amidst the devastation.

When the roaring noise subsided, dust and ash settling like a sorrowful shroud, Ekko was there. His chest rose and fell in ragged, uneven breaths as he knelt by your side. His eyes, wide with shock and heartache, locked onto yours, as if willing you to see just how deeply you mattered to him.

“What the fuck were you doing?!” he demanded, his voice raw and broken by a mix of fury, relief, and unspeakable grief. The force of the explosion still lingered in his veins, each throb a reminder of how close he had come to losing you forever.

You curled tighter into yourself, the weight of the moment crashing down like a tidal wave. “I—” your voice faltered, torn between words and the overwhelming cascade of emotion.

“You were gonna blow yourself up?” Ekko’s voice cracked, and suddenly, his hands were on your shoulders—gripping you with a desperate tenderness as if to ensure that, even for a fleeting second, you wouldn’t slip away. “You—Y/N, do you even understand what that would’ve done? To me? To everyone who cares about you?”

Tears burned at your eyes, but you maintained the same guarded expression you’d perfected over the years. It was your shield, your way of hiding the storm inside. For so long, you’d worn that happy front as a mask, convincing everyone that everything was fine, even when your inner world was in ruins.

In the thick silence that followed, Ekko’s grip loosened just enough for him to breathe, his forehead pressing against yours as if trying to merge his warmth with your cold despair. “You were gonna leave me? Just like that?” His words trembled in the air, laden with disbelief and pain.

Your lips trembled, the simplest apology feeling woefully inadequate. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.” His whisper, though soft, carried the weight of an entire universe. “Don’t fucking apologize, Y/N. Just tell me—why? Why didn’t you tell me you were hurting so much?”

Your gaze dropped to the stained ground, every word a shard of regret. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

“A burden?” Ekko’s voice hardened into a hollow laugh that quickly dissolved into despair. “You’re everything to me, Y/N. Everything. And you thought I wouldn’t care?” His fingers, gentle yet insistent, brushed against your cheek, tilting your face up so you could meet his eyes—eyes that seemed to hold every promise of protection.

“I see you,” he murmured, his voice softening as he spoke with fierce tenderness. “Even when you're smiling, even when you’re pretending everything’s fine—I see you. I know you’re hurting.”

In that moment, as the smoke of the explosion still swirled around you and the city’s chaos resumed its ceaseless pulse, Ekko gathered you into his arms. His embrace was a fortress built of raw emotion and unwavering resolve. He held you close as if anchoring you to life, his heartbeat a steady drum urging you not to fade away.

“Please,” he whispered against your hair, his words trembling with urgency. “Stay. Just stay with me. Let me help you carry this burden. I can’t—won’t—imagine a world without you.”

The overwhelming noise of the aftermath faded into a distant hum as you clung to him, your own pain momentarily swallowed by the safety of his arms. In that fragile, suspended moment, you realized that maybe—just maybe—allowing someone to see your true self wasn’t a weakness. Perhaps, instead, it was the beginning of healing.

Ekko’s eyes, fierce and full of unspoken promises, searched yours for any hint of hope. And as you met his gaze, you understood that while the scars of tonight might never fully vanish, there was a chance—a fragile, flickering chance—to rebuild, together.

In the stillness that followed, with debris settling and hearts slowly mending, you allowed yourself to believe that the light he offered could one day outshine even the darkest shadows of your pain. And as his arms held you, you took that first trembling step toward a future where you didn’t have to hide behind a mask anymore.

MEL

Piltover’s skyline was breathtaking at night.

From this height, the city stretched endlessly, a glimmering web of golden lights. The streets pulsed with life—figures moving between towering structures, carriages rattling over cobblestone roads, people talking, laughing, existing.

It was beautiful.

It was distant.

And standing on the ledge of the building, the wind whipping against your skin, you felt like you were watching a world you didn’t belong to.

How many times had you smiled in those streets? How many times had you laughed, held conversations, reassured others, lifted them up? How many times had you convinced everyone—yourself—that you were fine?

But illusions had never been enough.

And tonight, you were tired of pretending.

=

Your fingers curled against the cold stone beneath you. The wind tugged at your clothes, teasing, inviting. You wondered if falling would feel like freedom—if for just a few seconds, you’d feel weightless, untethered from everything that had been suffocating you for so long.

But before you could lean forward, a voice shattered the silence.

"Y/N."

The sound of your name made your body jolt. It was smooth, controlled, but beneath that carefully placed veneer, there was something else. Something raw.

You turned your head slightly, already knowing who it was.

Mel Medarda.

She stood a few feet away, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights. The golden accents of her dress shimmered as she moved, slow and deliberate, like she was approaching a wounded animal that might bolt at any second.

She didn’t shout. Didn’t cry. Didn’t break the fragile moment with frantic desperation.

She just watched you.

You swallowed, forcing your voice to remain steady. "Go back, Mel." She tilted her head ever so slightly, unreadable. "This isn’t something you need to see."

Mel didn’t listen. Of course she didn’t. Another step forward. Then another. The click of her heels against the rooftop was almost inaudible beneath the wind.

She was closer now—close enough that you could see the flicker of something dark in her golden eyes. Something almost dangerous.

Not anger. Not fear.

Determination.

"You’re trembling," she observed, her voice impossibly soft, but her gaze never wavered. "You don’t want this."

Your jaw clenched. "You don’t know that."*

Mel exhaled through her nose, almost like she was restraining herself from reacting. She studied you, as if peeling back every layer, every mask you had ever worn.

Then, after a pause, she murmured, "Don’t I?"

Your breath caught in your throat.

She took another step, slow and measured, until she was close enough to touch you. But she didn’t. Not yet.

"You’ve spent so much time making sure everyone else is happy," she said, her voice dipping lower, "that you’ve convinced yourself you don’t deserve the same."

The words struck something deep inside you.

A bitter laugh bubbled up, but it sounded wrong—hollow, empty. "I don’t know what you’re talking about." Mel hummed, a sound so soft you almost missed it.

"You do," she countered. "You always do."* Silence stretched between you. Your fingers curled against the stone ledge. Your heart pounded.

"I just…" You hesitated, voice barely audible. "I don’t think I can keep doing this, Mel."*

Mel inhaled slowly, carefully. Her posture remained composed, but there was something new in her expression. Something that made your chest ache.

Pain.

"You can," she whispered. "And you will."

You turned your head fully now, searching her face, your eyes burning. "Why do you care so much?"

Mel stilled.

And then, after a long moment, she spoke.

"Because I know what it feels like to stand on the edge of something and believe there’s no way forward."* Her words sent a sharp chill through your body.

You had never seen Mel Medarda falter. She was always so composed, so in control. A force of nature—untouchable, unreadable.

But tonight, she was human.

"And I know what it feels like," she continued, "when someone reaches for you before you fall."*

Your throat tightened.

Mel slowly, finally, reached out, her fingertips brushing against yours. Not pulling. Not forcing. Just there.

"Come back to me," she whispered. "Step down." The wind howled around you, but it wasn’t the wind that made your body waver. It was her.

Because Mel Medarda was not a woman who begged.

And yet here she was, golden eyes raw with something so painfully vulnerable it almost undid you completely. Your lips parted, but no words came.

"I don’t deserve you," you choked out instead.

"That is not your choice to make," she countered, her voice unwavering. "Step down."

Your heart thundered against your ribs. You stared at her outstretched hand, at the warmth and steadiness it promised.

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself be selfish.

You took her hand.

The second you did, Mel moved.

With a quiet, shuddering breath, she pulled you into her arms, crushing you against her. One hand cradled the back of your head, the other gripping your waist as if letting go wasn’t an option.

Her warmth surrounded you—steady, grounding. Her heartbeat thrummed against your own.

"I’ve got you," she whispered. "I’ve got you, Y/N."*

Your fingers dug into the fabric of her dress. "I’m sorry," you whispered against her shoulder.

Mel exhaled, her hand smoothing over your hair. "No," she murmured. "Just stay."

And in that moment—buried in her strength, her quiet desperation—you realized something.

You had spent so long trying to carry the world, to be the light for others, that you forgot what it felt like to have someone hold you.

Maybe you weren’t alone after all.

And maybe, just maybe, you could learn how to stay.

SEVIKA

The water welcomed you like an old friend. Cold. Heavy. Quiet. You thought it would hurt. That maybe your body would fight against it, that some primal instinct would kick in and force you to claw your way back to the surface.

But it didn’t.

There was no struggle. No panic.

Only the gentle pull of the depths, the soft lull of the current wrapping around you, dragging you downward as if the city itself had finally decided to let you go.

The world above faded, the distorted glow of neon lights disappearing as your vision darkened.

And for the first time in a long time—there was peace.

No expectations. No forced smiles. No pretending.

Just silence.

Just—

Nothing.

=

Sevika had a bad feeling. She wasn’t the sentimental type. Didn’t believe in gut feelings or fate or any of that bullshit. But tonight, something was wrong.

It started with little things.

The way your hands shook when you thought no one was looking. The way your laughter came a second too late in conversations, like you had to remind yourself how to react. The way your smile was too perfect, stretched too tight like it might shatter at any moment.

Sevika noticed.

She always noticed.

You thought you were good at hiding it. Thought you had everyone fooled. But Sevika had spent too many years reading people, understanding their weaknesses, predicting when someone was about to break.

And tonight— Something in you had cracked.

She should have said something. Should have pulled you aside, forced you to talk, pried the truth out of you with sharp words and soft hands.

But she didn’t.

And now you were gone. She searched for you. The bar. The alleys. The rooftops. Nothing. Her heartbeat quickened, each passing second making her pulse drum louder in her ears.

Then she heard it—

A scream. Bloodcurdling. Terrified. Sevika’s stomach dropped.

Her legs carried her before her mind caught up, pushing through the thick crowd gathering near the docks, voices blurring into meaningless static.

She shoved past them, her gut twisting, and then—

A splash. A glimpse of something pale beneath the surface. And then—

You. Floating. Still. The murky water of Zaun was swallowing you whole. No—

"NO!" She didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. She jumped. The river hit like a fist of ice, numbing her limbs instantly, but she fought against it.

Her body cut through the water, powerful strokes tearing through the current. The city above blurred, muffled, disappearing as she dove deeper, reaching for you—

Her fingers brushed your wrist. Then your arm. Her metal hand latched onto you, tight, refusing to let go.

"I got you, baby, I got you," she muttered, voice lost beneath the water as she dragged you back up, her own lungs burning.

She kicked hard, breaking the surface with a sharp gasp, the cold air slicing into her chest like a blade.

"Breathe, damn you," she growled, hauling your lifeless body onto the dock, collapsing beside you on trembling arms.

Your skin was ice. Your lips were blue.

You weren’t breathing.

"Shit, shit—fuck!" Sevika’s voice cracked as she pressed two fingers to your throat. Nothing. "No, no, no—" Her pulse roared. Her vision blurred. Her hands shook. Then she moved.

She tilted your head back, her hands automatically finding position on your chest.

"Stay with me, baby—!" She pushed. Hard. "Come on, come on, come on," she muttered through gritted teeth, slamming her palms into your sternum, forcing your heart to beat.

Once. Twice. Five times.

"Don’t fucking do this to me, Y/N—!" Her breath hitched, but she kept going.

She tilted your chin, pinched your nose, sealed her lips over yours, and breathed.

Her own chest ached from how hard she inhaled, desperate to fill your lungs, desperate to hear you gasp, to feel anything.

She pulled back.

Nothing.

"FUCK!" Her fists curled, her body shaking as she wiped the wet strands of hair clinging to your face. "Don’t you dare fucking leave me, you hear me?" Her voice cracked, splintering with something raw and ugly. "Don’t you fucking do this—!"

She pressed down again. Harder.

"Come on, babygirl, fight—fight me, damn it!" Another push. Another breath. "Please, Y/N—just breathe, just fucking breathe!"

Her vision swam. Her jaw clenched so tight she thought her teeth might crack. "I swear to God, if you leave me, I’ll—" Her voice caught, breaking into something closer to a sob.

Another push. Another—

A cough. A strangled, gasping choke as your body convulsed violently.

Water spilled from your lips, your whole frame shuddering as air tore through your lungs.

"Oh, fuck—" Sevika nearly collapsed onto you, hands cupping your face, her forehead pressing hard against yours.

"Shit, shit, baby—" Her breath came in ragged, uneven gulps, and she felt her body trembling, her mind catching up to what almost just happened.

You were alive.

Barely. But alive.

"Sevika..." Your voice was wrecked, barely a whisper, but the second you said her name, her fingers tightened on you.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Her voice was hoarse, torn somewhere between anger and something closer to begging. You didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Tears burned your throat. "I—I don’t know." Her breath hitched. You looked small. Smaller than you ever had before. Like if she let go, you’d slip away all over again.

"You really think I’d let you go that easy?" she muttered, voice raw.

You swallowed thickly, barely holding back the sob in your chest. "I thought—"

"Don’t." Her grip tightened. Metal fingers digging into your soaked shirt, grounding you to her. "Don’t fucking say it."

Silence.

The water dripped from both of you, pooling beneath her knees, mixing with the blood on her knuckles from where she had gripped the dock too hard.

Then, softer—

"Why didn’t you tell me?"

Her forehead pressed against yours, her breath warm despite the cold, her entire body trembling. "Do you have any idea what I’d do if I lost you?" Your chest ached, but not from the CPR.

"I didn’t want to be a burden."

Her eyes darkened. "Burden?"

She pulled back just enough to glare at you, her jaw clenching so tightly you swore you heard her teeth grind.

"You're the only thing in this shit city that makes me feel alive, and you think you’re a fucking burden?"

Your breath shuddered. "I'm sorry."

Sevika exhaled sharply, shaking her head, her expression unreadable. Then she let out a bitter chuckle—one that held no humor, only exhaustion.

"Yeah? Don’t be sorry."

She pulled you closer, her arms wrapping around you, her metal hand pressing against the back of your head, keeping you there—safe.

"Just don’t fucking do it again." You weren’t sure if you could promise that.

But as she held you—tightly, desperately, like you were the only thing keeping her tethered to this world—you thought… maybe, just maybe…

Your brain just wouldn’t stop. You sat up, sweat drying on your forehead. You could barely focus. You sighed before swinging your legs down the edge of the bed. You needed to get away. You grabbed your bag, jacket and keys before storming down the steps, almost missing the last but you managed to catch yourself before you fell.

The door opened and the cold night air greeted you.

You flinched slightly, slipping the jacket on as you walked across the road. Thank god she didn’t live too far away. You weren’t mentally strong enough to drive.

The door opened before you could rap your knuckles against her wood or ring the bell— you paused. Everything froze.

“Why’re you back?”

Her voice was so cold she broke your heart in two without even trying, once again— just like she’d done several times before when you both were dating. You swallowed, hands twisting in your jacket pockets.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go—”

Caitlyn pulled the door, already shutting it on your face.

You panicked, and threw out a foot at the doorframe to block her from closing the door, “I had a fight with my parents.”

Caitlyn sighed. “Fine.”

She pushed the door open. She had a robe pulled over her night shirt and pajamas. She didn’t look too happy to see you but what could you expect from your ex? Things hadn’t really ended on the best note when it came to you both. Caitlyn was toxic, and you knew that— so you’d ended things but to be frank, you were a loner and she was the only person you didn’t cut off.

You’d expected her to cut you off, but then— she didn’t.

Maybe because she knew when push came to shove, she would be the first person you’d run to.

You were still in love.

Deep, deep love.

“Didn’t expect you to turn up at the doorstep of your toxic ex,” Caitlyn said, her voice cold as she poured herself a glass of water.

“I didn’t plan on coming here either,” you mumbled, “look, I’m sorry. I had nowhere else to go.”

“It’s fine.”

“Then stop holding it to me.” Your tone was laced with frustration.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

“No, you don’t—”

“But you owe me now.” Caitlyn’s words were final, she finished the water in her mug.

The silence was suffocating. Your eyes didn’t search for hers. You looked away at the floor.

Then, finally Caitlyn spoke again, “go. Get changed for bed.”

“My clothes are still here?”

“Mhm. Check the closet. Y’know where my room’s at.”

“No— not that— I just didn’t expect you to keep my stuff after everyth—”

“You’re the one that dumped me.” Caitlyn said as if that was enough reason for everything. “Just go. Get changed. I have work tomorrow.”

You opened the closet. The familiar scent of your perfume clashing with her but you. You ran a hand between the fabrics slowly, smiling to yourself. “Oh, my… she really did keep them…”

You found a thin night shirt— it was silk. Damn, you’d missed this too particularly.

You pulled it out and didn’t even bother leaving the bedroom to change. You changed right there— now wearing just a thin silk night shirt with red thongs underneath.

“Fuck.” Caitlyn cursed under her breath when she saw you standing there with those clothes on. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

She stopped where she was, not walking in the room like you’d hoped.

“Y’know you want me, Cait. You wouldn’t have even let me inside otherwise.” You stepped closer, “please… let me make it up to you for letting me inside. I don’t like owing anything to anyone.”

Caitlyn’s jaw twitched, teeth grinding together as she thought her decisions over multiple times— every one of them that led to this… “fine. But you don’t get to have even an ounce of control.”

Your eyes widened slightly, “oh— yeah, of course— sure.”

“Go lay.”

You laid down slowly, Caitlyn shifted behind you. Your back rested against her front as she pulled your thong away so fast it ripped half-way.

“Careful!”

“Shush.” Caitlyn said coldly, her hand landing with a slap on your cunt.

You gasped, tears springing to your eyes when it stung. “O-ow…”

“You’re gonna listen to what I say, take what I give you and do as I say.” Caitlyn rubbed your vulva, almost soothingly, as if she was telling you ‘this is what happens when you don’t listen so you better behave’.

You nodded, “I understand.”

“You better.”

Caitlyn’s hand came down with another hard smack— smack, smack, smack!

“What a bad girl. You come in here dressed in your stupid little red lingerie thinking you can seduce me into taking your slutty ass back?”

Your tears ran free down your flushed cheeks, “that’s… that’s—”

“Uh-uh.”

Smack!

“What did I just teach you? You don’t speak unless spoken to.”

Smack, smack, smack!

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you sobbed out— eyebrows furrowed, tears blurring your vision.

“Mhmm…” Caitlyn rubbed you again— slowly, emphasizing the fact that she could slap your cunt red again if she wanted to. “You wanna stay over at mine and you dress like a fucking slut who’s begging for attention, dressing up in nothing but just a nightshirt, and no pants because you know deep fucking down that you wanna be slapped raw and red, and you want my fucking dick.”

You sniffed, head bowed, eyes fixed on the floor as Caitlyn continued degrading you with her smooth palm rubbing your wet pussy. Then, she sighed and moved away from behind you. You looked at her expectedly.

Caitlyn was taking her clothes off.

Pale boobs came into view, the lamp’s warm glow casting soft shadows on her body as she undid her bra and let it fall. Her boobs were perked, her inner thighs wet with need. She pulled her hair down, letting the dark waves cascade down her upper back, framing her face.

“Of all the things you’ve made me do,” she groaned, settling between your legs.

“Cait— what are—?”

She rolled her hips forward— your eyes went wide, a moan breaking out before you could restrain it.

She moved with grace— her throbbing cunt easily rubbing on your twitchy one. You were flushed, sniffly— trying to crawl away because everything Cait did felt too good. Way too good.

She was addictive in a way that you could never pinpoint and she knew it.

She knew that she could make you sway with just a few orgasms.

Enough to dumb down your stupid little brain.

“I want— I need you…” you blabbered, eyes squeezing shut from the sheer amount of pleasure that was only building and building.

A knot was developing in your lower stomach, your pussy clenching around nothing— clearly close to a blissful release.

“Just cum.” Caitlyn panted, “oh, oh my god!”

She threw her head back, grinding down harder before you both came in unison.

Caitlyn wasn’t done. Oh hell no.

If there was something that you knew about Caitlyn for sure was that, she was hard to sate in sex. So she required at least two rounds. She was already rummaging in her drawer for what you could assume was the strap. Once she found her biggest one, she hooked it around her hips and positioned herself between your legs again.

“You just need to take me like a good girl, okay?” Caitlyn slowly pushed the head against your entrance.

You nodded, “I’m… I’m your good girl…”

Slowly, she pushed the entire length inside before starting to thrust at a steady pace. Your mouth opened.

Caitlyn spat inside, “you’re such a fucking whore for me. Thinking I’m gonna take you back after everything we’ve been through, after you fucking dumped me.”

Your eyes rolled back, her spit still in your mouth as you didn’t dare swallow without permission.

“Look at you— filthy little fucktoy. That’s all you’ll ever be anymore to me.” Caitlyn said, teeth gritted.

Your legs slowly wrapped around her, tugging her closer.

“Look at you, still trying to bring me closer after getting fucking degraded. Exactly how much of a freak can you even be?” Caitlyn laughed, cruel. “Now, swallow my fucking spit.”

You obliged, “Cait— I— oh…” your arms wrapped around her, eyes slowly closing as you buried your face in her shoulder.

When you hugged her, Caitlyn’s brain buffered.

No way in fucking hell you had the audacity to do that in the middle of the rough fucking she was giving you. But you did anyway.

And that made Caitlyn feel a bunch of mixed emotions that she didn’t want to feel.

Emotions like fucking love.

Caitlyn slammed the shaft inside. You moaned loud against her sweat-dampened skin, muffled.

Before she could stop herself, Caitlyn’s hand rubbed down your back, “there… you’re okay.”

You only held on tighter.

Although Caitlyn hated how she was softening for you, she didn’t want to put on a harsh front against you… not for now.

it had already been such a long day.

you’d had classes all morning, dropped all your notes in the library, spilt coffee down your favourite shirt, almost deleted your final dissertation draft… yeah. today was not for you.

so when you came back to your girlfriend’s dorm, absolutely exhausted, to find her pouting on the edge of the bed? you absolutely weren’t in the mood.

caitlyn had those long elegant legs crossed, arms folded, nails drumming on her bicep. and -ah- yes! there was that pout; those gorgeous pink lips drooping at the corners.

‘what is it baby?’ you sighed, dropping your bag as you leant in the doorframe.

“well…” she huffed, haughty and clipped as she tossed a sheet of navy hair over her shoulder, “you were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago. with my coffee. and now you’re late and i don’t see any-“

you cut her off, stepping forward with an unimpressed eyebrow raise, cupping her jaw. “you’re not fucking serious, cait. i’ve had such a shit day.”

caitlyn’s brow furrowed, those piercing blue eyes widening as her chin wobbled (on purpose, she knew how to get under your skin). “but darling…” she grumbled, reaching up to cup your hand over her jaw.

and that was it.

your nails dug into her jaw as you pushed her back, rolling your shoulders. “on your knees, cait. i told you im not in the mood.”

those icy irises almost disappeared as her pupils blew wide, her lips parted on a shaky exhale as she shifted, grumbling under her breath as she moved onto her hands and knees, her pretty pleated skirt riding up to show the curve of her ass.

“what was that?” you snapped, one hand fisting in the perfect blue of her hair, dragging her back into a taut arch.

caitlyn’s voice caught in her throat, dissolving into a whine as she choked out, “that- that you’re mean and i deserved that coffee-“

you tightened your hold in her hair, tears prickling in her eyes as she whined. and somehow, that infuriating pout was still on her lips. “you wanna try again caitlyn? cause i can leave right now.” your palm came down sharply on the pale swell of her ass, leaving a stinging red handprint on her skin.

“no, no. i’m sorry. i’m being an asshole, please don’t-“ she was babbling now, back pulled tight as she rocked back against nothing, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“that’s better.” you muttered, dragging her skirt up fully to expose the sweet navy lace of her thong.

“touch me, please baby.” she panted, eyes wide as she glanced back at you, those gorgeous lean thighs trembling as her bottom lip quivered.

“you really think you’re in a position to be asking me for things right now, cait?” you scoffed, dragging her thong down to expose glistening folds, her hooded clit aching from the rough treatment. “you like this, don’t you?” you mused, gathering her slick with your fingers, before you cracked them down on her clit. “having the fight beat out of you, hm?”

caitlyn choked, her cheeks burning as she rutted back against your hand, desperate for any kind of friction she could get. “mmf, yes- i love, fuck- i love winding you up when you’re… ah.. in a bad mood.”

you tutted, fingers circling her clit ever so slowly. “that’s better. so good when you’re honest for me, cait.” you hooked your knee in between her thighs, forcing her to spread wider. “now be even better for me and take it.”

she barely had time to respond before you were dipping your head, tongue teasing her dripping slit as she gasped, thighs tightening. your nails dug into her asscheeks as you spread her, the muscle laving teasingly over every inch of her folds, swirling slow over her clit then back up. and there they were, those sweet little whines she could never hold back. you glanced up, watching caitlyn’s head tip forward as you finally dipped past her entrance, slow and teasing as you curled your tongue against her sweet spot. “please, baby-“ she whimpered, back arching further in an attempt to find more friction, “i need-“

you cut her off again with a sharp slap to the globe of her ass, watching her whine with a satisfied hum against her cunt. “good girls take what they’re given, cait. you wanna be good for me, right?”

caitlyn nodded frantically, blue strands sticking to the sweaty skin of her back as she dug her nails into the sheets.

you decided to take pity on her, this time at least, tongue pressing past her entrance as you kept her spread, pace fast and brutal and messy as her thighs shook. her whimpers echoed off the walls as you buried your face deeper, one hand shifting up to rub firm circles over her clit.

caitlyn wasn’t going to last like this, she was already shaking, so you pulled back with one last bite to her ass cheek. you stood, rummaging in her drawer for her favourite harness, elegant with little silver buckles.

the heavy blue strap dangled between your legs as you positioned yourself behind her again, smoothing your hands over her ass cheeks, teasing the blunt head through her folds. “ready baby?” at caitlyn’s desperate nodding, you pressed your hips forward, the strap sliding inch by thick inch into her fluttering walls.

she cried out sharply at the stretch, but you paid no heed to it. your nails dug into her hips as you dragged her back onto the strap, her whimpers and the sharp slap of skin on skin filling the room. “that’s it sweetheart.” you murmured, your own chest heaving as you dragged her back again and again. “let this cock shut you up.”

caitlyn cried out as you slammed deeper, arching taut as she tossed her head back. you hummed, slipping out of her to flip her over in one fluid motion, one forearm braced next to her head, the other guiding the strap back into the mess between her thighs.

“that’s better.” you cooed, caging her with your arms as your thrusts started again, deep and smooth. “now i can watch my bratty girl go stupid, hm?”

it was all caitlyn could do to wrap her thighs around your waist, nails scoring down your back as she writhed against the sheets, little punched out ‘ah-ah-ah’s tumbling from her lips as the tip grazed her cervix.

you leant forward until her knees were pressed back, thrusts turning meaner, sloppier as you watched the tears start again. “oh baby, you can take it, can’t you?” you cooed, hips slamming against hers as she cried out. “can’t, i’m going to-“ is all she managed to get out before she was gasping, eyes rolling back as she spilled down your strap, release dripping down both your thighs.

“oh cait” you sighed, “did i say you could cum?” but there was no heat in it as you pulled back, reaching for a cloth to wipe up the mess. you shifted to lay next to her, holding an arm out for her to curl into, sweaty and sated. “round two when i’ve caught my breath.” you murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as you curled around her.

your whiny girl ♡.

Your cheeks reddened but you didn't let her words falter you. You looked up, meeting her eyes. “Yes, Cait, I need you.”

“But would you deserve it if I touched you?” Caitlyn moved closer, her breath tickling your face. Her hand cupped your heat through your panties, the only shred of dignity you still wore on your body. “You have been quite bratty lately, that's why you're tied up right now anyway.” Caitlyn’s hand squeezed your pussy, she grabbed the hem using a singular finger and dragged the fabric to your mid thighs, discarding it there. “You're so wet.” Caitlyn whispered, making your cheeks heat up more than before.

“It's all for you…” you bucked your hips hopelessly. “So won't you make it feel all good, mommy?”

Caitlyn laughed softly, “oh, you wish, sweetness, you wish. You've been such a brat I don't even think you deserve a good fingering.” In contrast to her words, her fingers sunk in your pussy, slender digits invading the tight space and filling you up.

“Oh, my goodness… it feels so good.” Caitlyn’s gaze darkened with lust, her fingers moving with a controlled pace so she didn't go too rough or too fast. Your clit throbbed for her. “Caitlyn, please— I need you.”

“I know.”

Her thumb pressed against your clit, touch soft and feather light. “Why are you so wet, baby?”

Caitlyn's fingers curled, you gasped and caught the sheets. She always knew how to make you break even when you put up your brattiest act ever. Your pussy was fluttering around her, as if it recognised her.

Caitlyn's other hand reached away to grab a pair of nipple clamps— you hadn't even noticed their presence until one of them clamped onto your perky nipples. You gasped, the sound sharp. “Cait!—”

“It's ‘mommy’, sweetheart.” Caitlyn corrected sweetly, her fingers moving faster making you whine out.

You tried to squirm away making her eyes narrow, she clamped your other nipple— not giving you a chance to get familiar with the burn on your breast. You winced.

“O-ow…”

Caitlyn revelled in the way your body shivered under her touch, her fingers worked faster to coax an orgasm out of you. As they did, her gaze was fixed on your chest, watching the way your clamped tits move with every thrust. They bounced subtly and made your nipples stiffen further between the teeth of the clamps. You whimpered.

“Mommy, I need you— I need to cum— fuck, Janna! I need— oh!”

Caitlyn enjoyed how you broke on mere two fingers of hers. You were whining, drool escaping your mouth from the corner, and rolling down. “Mmmm… mommy, I need more.”

Your pussy clenched, squelching around her fingers making her chuckle. Your pussy was drooling everywhere, the wetness made her thrusting easier and faster. Caitlyn grabbed the clamp of one of your nipples and gave it a subtle tug. You whimpered, your back arching off the mattress with a sharp gasp. You squirted on her hand.

“Oh!—” Caitlyn almost withdrew her hand from surprise. Then she smiled. “Did you just squirt on me?” Your cheeks flushed redder than ever before.

“Cait— I'm so—”

“Shush, don't speak.” Caitlyn stuck in a third finger, curling all three of them inside you. You screamed softly.

“M-mommy!”

“There you go, what a good girl. You wanna pay up for your bratty attitude by gushing for mommy?” Caitlyn leaned in, “that's a good start, baby, come on. Do that again, now.”

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