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“Sorry to do this Cait, but you are listed as her emergency contact.” Jayce’s voice sounds apologetic but she can tell he’s mostly tired and wants to be done with the situation at large.
She’s glowering at him, even though she knows it’s not his fault her asshole ex-girlfriend hadn’t ever changed her information after the breakup 10 goddamn months previously. Nevertheless, he’s the one standing in front of her, so he’s the one she’s going to be upset with until she can seethe in the general direction of the werewolf in the other room.
“She doesn’t need medical, right?” She asks finally, her mouth pulled in a frown.
The minotaur shakes his head, “She was healed by the time we got back-up there. The other guy though… he’s gonna be out of the game for a minute.”
Caitlyn sighs, rolling her shoulders as she looks back at the case file in front of her. Some mystery was surrounding this unusual encounter, and everyone, including her boss’s boss, is trying to get to the bottom of it.
“Why me?” She mutters.
Jayce shrugs, “You wanted to be captain, captain.”
“Go home,” she waves him off. “Tell Mel I say hello.” She manages to sound shockingly pleasant as she turns and approaches her closed office door, feeling the waves of discomfort rolling from within it even behind the wood.
The majority of her division had left for the evening, most the floor having filed out within the last handful of hours, leaving only a few strays who watch her and pretend not to.
Violet looks like a high school student being taken to the principal’s office. She’s sunk low in the chair opposed Caitlyn’s desk, eyes glowering forward at nothing, her arms crossed defensively over her chest.
Jayce is right about her injuries; they’d long healed due to her godlike metabolism, the only evidence of anything being remiss is the blood splatters on her hand wraps.
Caitlyn shuts the door noisily behind her, pulling the blinds to obscure the nosy prospectors in the bullpen behind her.
She sighs, and watches as Vi bristles further at the sound. She circles the woman, giving a wide berth as she comes around to sit heavily behind her desk and fold her hands on the pile of papers that had taken over.
“Do you want to tell me what happened with your own words?” She asks, measuredly.
Vi huffs in annoyance, still glowering. “I feel like Talis probably gave you all the details you need to know.”
She doesn’t respond, remaining neutral with her hands clasped in front of her.
The werewolf is agitated, her knee bouncing for a moment before she finally mutters. “Am I getting fired?”
Caitlyn exhibits an astronomical degree of self-control in not rolling her eyes.
“You assaulted a civilian and will not tell anyone why you did it. This doesn’t exactly look good for our organization as a whole.”
“He was posturing, okay?” She hisses, her voice growling at the edges of her words. Caitlyn zeros in on the word use, watching the woman across from her fidget.
Posturing is a very specific show of dominance in the werewolf community. But Vi had dealt with plenty of other creatures attempting to exert themselves before and hadn’t been pushed to commit war crimes.
“I’m going to need a little bit more than that.”
“Can’t I just like, sign the write up or whatever, and tell you later?” Her voice still has gravel in it, and it’s piquing the elf’s keen ears as out of the norm.
“No, we need to conduct an official interview of the situation, because your statement now determines whether or not there is disciplinary action put against you.”
Violet actually growls now, her throaty rumble loud where the room is mostly silent, only the distant murmuring of the precinct outside the door filtering through.
Caitlyn blinks in shock. The Violet she knew, that she had dated, would have never growled at her, regardless of the situation.
She seems immediately to recognize her mistake, uncrossing her arms to scrub her hands through her hair roughly. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I just. I really have to get home, Cait.” She says down to the floor.
Vi hadn’t called her that in months, it was always Captain Kiramman now. Distance, where there once was familiarity.
“What’s going on?” She demands, leaning forward to stare at the woman sitting in front of her.
Vi inhales through her nose, drops her hands to her lap and mutters, defeated, “My rut started this afternoon and I don’t have suppressants.”
To say she’s shocked is an understatement. Caitlyn doesn’t even mean to leave a gap of silence this time, but it is effective in keeping the woman speaking.
“I didn’t know it until patrol was nearly done, so I thought it’d be fine. We were just making a round through the neighborhood we cleaned that Shimmer operation up from last week. And this idiot, I know him from when we were kids. He kept pushing, following us around and getting up in my space.”
She looks nearly crazed when their eyes finally meet, her pupils constricted and nearly swallowed by the storm grey of her irises.
“He was trying to rile me up and it worked, okay? I’m sorry.”
“He touched you,” she says numbly, remembering what Jayce had said. The blonde kid, a werewolf himself from the Under City, had trailed them for two blocks, getting closer and jeering loudly in their direction. He was scrawny, likely an addict, and had put his hands on the scruff of Vi’s neck according to Jayce, right before she exploded and attacked him.
She sits back when Vi nods in confirmation.
“Okay.” She says, nodding. She makes a note to write this in her official report that she was instigated by a member of her species during the sudden onset of her rut, and maybe leaving out that Vi could tell she was starting and didn’t leave patrol.
“Okay?” Vi ventures, hesitantly.
“Yes, you’re free to go,” she doesn’t even finish saying it before her mouth clicks closed. “Wait. How long has it been since your rut started?”
She shifts uncomfortably in the chair. “Uh. I noticed it about… 3 hours ago? So probably sometime around noon.” She glances at the clock on the wall then back at Caitlyn, a look of comprehension dawning on her face. Ruts take about twelve hours to reach their peak, now that they're teetering dangerously close to midnight, her pheromones would be spiking within the next handful of minutes.
Caitlyn purses her lips and looks up at the ceiling, her mind racing.
“You can’t go out there,” she points to the door. The sounds of the bullpen are quieter now, the end of the day having arrived essentially as the werewolf had been dragged into her office, and now the employees were trailing out quietly.
Violet breathes in a couple measured breaths, “I can wait. Until they’re gone, then I’ll get to my car.”
“Do you have suppressants at home?”
She pauses, looking caught, and shakes her head once.
Caitlyn cannot control the long-suffering sigh that escapes her lips.
“Okay,” she mutters, more to herself than her ex, “Okay, you’re going to sit in here until the rest of the bullpen goes home, then I’m going drive to the pharmacy down the road and get you suppressants. If you go out there right now, hell, if I go out there right now, they’re going to. Think. Things.” She says the last bit haltingly.
Vi’s arms are crossed again, her shoulders curling inward defensively.
“Can you… wait that long?” She ventures, trying to make some mental calculations about how many people might be left. It’s half past 11, so only a few people would linger until the twelfth hour, unless there was a report that needed to be finished before morning.
The silence stretches on for a beat too long, and her keen eyes zero in on the werewolf in front of her who is looked more and more effected by her hormones as the minutes pass.
“Or,” Vi ventures, her voice calculated, “We could… go one round.” She swallows audibly, “That’d probably get me to the point where I could drive home and get suppressants… on my way.”
It’s absurd. It’s the most insane thing Caitlyn had ever heard.
She's salivating at the very thought of it.
“You cannot be serious,” absolutely everything in her tone is dripping with disbelief.
Vi sinks down further where she sits, her face burning red where she’s turned her expression away from Caitlyn’s rapidly blinking gaze.
“It’s not like it was on purpose, and that would get us out of here faster,” she reasons, voice low and palpably uncomfortable.
Caitlyn pinches the bridge of her nose, her eyes scrunching against the sudden headachy throb that stabs behind her orbit. The laundry list of things she has to finish by end of day is suddenly unraveling, items dropping off the mental list with each passing moment.
Now that she’s aware of the situation in its entirety, it’s difficult to ignore. The ‘tip-tip-tip’ sound Vi’s heal makes as her leg jiggles. Her heightened temperature nearly noticeable despite the distance between them. The subtle smell of her pheromones that had begun to fill the air in the office.
Vi stands suddenly, her gait a little unsteady as she unravels to her full height, hands clenched at her sides. “Forget it, I need to leave,” she mutters, still not looking at the captain seated in front of her.
“Sit down,” Caitlyn emphasizes, her voice even and clipped. The woman across from her pauses, her body nearly entirely twisted to face towards the exit. She has the willpower to resist for about 3 full seconds before she huffs and sits down again heavily, arms once again going to cross in front of her defensively.
She can tell that each passing moment is torture for the werewolf, minutes ticking by as Caitlyn’s brain works a mile a minute.
Begrudgingly, she sighs, dropping her hand to the desk and tapping her fingers on it for three beats before saying, “Fine.”
Vi isn’t even trying to hide her shock, openly staring at her superior with her mouth slightly agape.
“Violet, come on.” She pushes back from the desk, leaning down to unlace her boots. “I have so much to do already and the sooner this is out of the way, the sooner-”
She gasps as her chair is pulled to the side, facing her body perpendicular to her desk, the subtle strength of the woman in front of her evident by the one-handed motion.
Caitlyn opens her mouth to comment but is stopped by the sight of Vi suddenly dropping to her knees in front of her, her large hands going to her belt immediately.
Her stomach rolls, the reality of what she’s agreed to settling in as her trousers are undone by deft, familiar fingers. Her eyes are locked to the motions, watching in a detached sort of way as her pants and underwear are pulled down, her body accommodating the motion without her input.
“Can I,” Vi starts, her blue eyes darting from where they’d been staring at her center up to her face. “I mean, is it okay if I eat you out?”
Caitlyn can tell she’s staring, feeling thrown at the mere suggestion of it. It’s so absurd she starts laughing, her shoulders shaking for a moment.
Dark eyebrows furrow at this, the silent chuckles bringing a different kind of flush to her freckled cheeks.
“Only you would ask to eat someone out when you’re the one in rut.” Caitlyn muses, her mouth curled in a delicate smile. Vi’s lips part in awe of this soft look she hadn’t been on the receiving end of for months.
“Is that a… no?” She ventures.
“Go ahead, but please keep in mind I have a schedule,” she hasn’t even fully finished the sentence before Vi’s breath is ghosting over the trimmed hair on her pubis. She shifts, her hips widening, pushing the trousers off her ankle.
Vi’s hands curve under her legs and around her hips, the thick fingers drawing her forward to the edge of the chair by the hold on her ass. The first brush of tongue against her labia have her tilting her head back.
She exhales shakily, feeling incredibly slick all of a sudden, her center warming significantly under the pattern being traced into her anatomy. She feels the vibration of Vi’s moan against her clit, and she clenches once at the idea that this is getting her off.
Vi is relentless, her tongue circling her clit as she become more engorged; she’s blood-warm, her skin nearly the same temperature as her ex’s in front of her. The heat from the calloused skin of the werewolf’s palms spreads through the layers of skin and muscle on her ass.
The tongue traces a pattern down the valley of her cunt, pressing confidently into her opening where she’s becoming steadily more wet. Her hips thrust upward, the heat within her making her muscles react independently. She wants to grab Vi’s hair and keep her where she is, directing the stimulation to exactly how she wants it.
But that’s not the goal of this encounter. Her logical, higher thinking brain feels like it’s trying to reason with her through a locked door. There are words that cry out, telling her how bad of an idea this is, but since it’s happening to get it over with quickly. They feel muted against the onslaught of pleasure, distant despite being in her own head.
Cait lets out a soft throaty noise when the tongue traces back up to her clit, lips surrounding the blood-hot organ and sucking around the swollen skin.
She clenches again, this time her hand does go from where it’s been clutched on the arm rest to the top of Vi’s skull, the coarse locks tussling under the rough petting motion she makes before grabbing the hair at back of her skull and pulling.
Vi makes an absolutely sinful noise, halfway between a moan and a whimper. Her eyes flutter open from where she’d had them closed, meeting Caitlyn’s with an inquisitive look at being stopped.
Caitlyn’s chest heaves once, the sudden disruption in sensations leaving her system reeling for a moment.
“You should,” she swallows, inhaling again, “You should get to it.”
Vi looks dumbfounded for a moment, her eyes moving subtly as she looks searchingly at her superior from her crouched position on the floor. “Oh,” she tones flatly, then nods and looks away.
The captain doesn’t like the souring feeling it leaves her stomach. She’s at war with herself, caught between feeling guilty for trying to keep this as professional as they can in current circumstances, and feeling uncomfortable with using Vi’s predicament to take pleasure for herself. By the time she’s cycled through several rounds of internal debate, Vi’s pants are off, and she’s standing a little above her now.
It’s been nearly a year since they’d sleep with each other last, which is long enough to have forgotten some of the details of her ex’s anatomy. Namely that Vi is larger than average, despite not being particularly tall for a werewolf, and that in rut she’s more likely to flush down her entire shaft, the skin a rosy red in response to the hormones.
Caitlyn swallows audibly, her eyes darting away from the genitalia in front of her, up to where the blush has returned to Vi’s cheeks, the freckles standing out against the warm color.
“Come on,” her accent is lighter with the subdued volume she says it; she draws her legs up from where they’d been left hanging open. Vi watches the motion with rapt eyes, tracing the motion of the long limbs as she’s essentially being presented to. As much as one can be while still mostly sitting in a chair.
Vi’s arms go under her hips, pressing between her lower back and the leather of the chair’s seat right before she lifts the taller woman out of the chair with no warning.
Caitlyn physically bites her tongue, still not managing to totally suffocate the strangled noise of surprise that escapes her throat as she’s deposited on her desk. Papers kick up around her, fluttering noisily to the floor around her desk. Her fingers had dug into Vi’s shoulders and she lets them remain there, glad for the hold.
She glares up at the werewolf atop her, eyebrows pinched in annoyance at being manhandled against her will. There’s a subtle spark of amusement in Vi’s exprression, a mischievous twinkling in the grey eyes that is so familiar it hurts.
There’s the sudden pressure of friction at her center, the phallus sliding against her folds. After two passes like this, Caitlyn exhales a rattling noise, the slick she’d been leaking spreading on the fever-warm skin of Vi’s dick.
“Ready?” Vi exhales. She nods, tilting her head back against her desk and letting her eyes flutter for a moment as she feels the fumbling motion of position-correcting before there is the overwhelming pressure of being filled.
What she hadn’t mentioned to Vi, because truly why would she, is that she hadn’t slept with anyone since they’d stopped seeing each other. And she’s really too busy most of the time to even masturbate, let alone use toys.
So, she’s tight. Significantly so. To the point where she can feel Vi curse openly at the squeeze as she sits fully sheathed within her.
Caitlyn feels herself clench around the intrusion, the heat of it paired with her own excessive levels of wetness driving a wave of pleasure to spread from her center.
“Holy shit,” Vi hisses, her short fingernails biting into the back of her thighs where her hands are keeping her spread open. She pulls out just a handful of inches before sliding back in, almost all in the same motion with how even the tempo is.
Caitlyn hates how much she likes it.
She hates how good Vi is at sex.
She hates how it took 6 months to stop craving this just for it to start from square 1 again after this encounter.
The thrusts continue, the rhythm apparently set, and Caitlyn loses herself in it. Vi is making a valiant effort at being quiet, loud exhales through her nose interspersed with the occasional whispering moan. Caitlyn is fairing far worse, going so far to smother her own mouth with her hand to keep herself from crying out as the angle puts pressure on her G-spot.
The loudest noise by far is the slick sound of her cunt opening around her ex like a “Welcome Back!” sign in buzzing neon letters. Caitlyn will feel angry about it in the morning but for now, she writhes as a particularly hard thrust sends a wave of molten hot pleasure twisting in her core.
The shirt she’s still wearing is beginning to stick to her skin where she’s becoming overly hot and sweaty. The fabric wrinkles underneath the repetitive movements, matching the state of the shirt Vi has on, the black fabric clinging to her shoulders as she braces above her.
Her gun holster is still on. The leather straps are hooked around her torso and clipped under her chest, defining the flat plane of her stomach from the swell of her breasts. It draws Cait's eye to the swell of tissue there, her hands flexing over the hard muscles of Vi's shoulders.
Rut was always a weird time with Vi, historically speaking. She got moodier, and more impulsive. She couldn’t sleep for the few days ahead of it, and typically the 2 after. Her appetite changes to nothing but meat, and confusingly, pears.
And her sole purpose in life shifts to finding the correct series of buttons to push to get Caitlyn off. This, in particular, she’d gotten quite good at.
Cait is not a werewolf, so despite her research, she doesn’t understand every single nuance that comes along with the subspecies. Mating habits in particular. But she does know that Vi likes it when she’s loud, she likes it when she bites her and tells her how to fuck her right, and she especially likes it when she gets to cum inside of her.
Caitlyn has to, begrudgingly, admit that that became a pretty big part of her own kinks after the first few times it happened.
Just the idea of it has her clenching against the dick inside of her, Vi letting out another one of those breathy noises in response to the contraction. She is positively dripping from how turned on she is, her cunt achingly warm, the sensitive circle of skin at her entrance become wondrously sore due to the repeated stimulation. She can feel the swelling of the base of her dick, the knot only an inch or so wider than the rest of her dick, but the difference in palpable.
“Shit,” she hisses, feeling wound up like a coil. Vi’s hands are slick where they hold her knees open, pressing her further back into her desk. She’s folded nearly in half, incredibly exposed. The angle is everything though, the curved angle of the phallus pressing the head perfectly by her G-spot with each trust, the bruising sensation implying that she’ll be feeling this for days to come.
“Can I come in you?” Vi breathes out, her voice shaky and rough. Caitlyn’s eyes snap open to meet hers. Before she can think any better, or remember that they’d been broken up for close to a year now, she commands,
“You’d better.”
Vi obeys, thrusts stuttering on the last couple passes before she stills within her. The pressure at her rim becomes unbearable for a moment before the last inch or so of the phallus is pressed into her. She gives way around it, feeling some part of herself surrender into the sensation, yielding to the pressure.
The werewolf moans, her head dropping forward with the wringing out this act does on her body. Caitlyn can feel heat pooling within her as Vi cums, the sensation making her feeling drunk with pleasure.
She’s breathing hard, her head lulling on the desk, crinkling papers as she twists in torment. She can feel herself clenching around the intrusion, her body trying desperately to get her more friction despite being locked in place.
“Ah!” She gasps sharply, the rough texture of Vi’s thumb against her clit shocking her. She’s so wet that the entirety of the skin around her cunt is damp, and it eases the glide of friction as tight circles are drawn around the engorged organ.
She bites into the meat of her hand, her teeth sharp against her own skin where she used to bite Vi to smother her desperate noises. She knows that the enhanced hearing is picking up the pathetic whimpers that catch in her chest.
She grinds down against the dick inside of her, relishing in the little growl that greets her in response.
It’s the perfect storm of sensation; friction, growling, her apparent breeding kink. There’s nothing keeping her from toppling over the edge of her orgasm, nearly wailing with the overwhelming feeling of it.
Vi can tell when she’s cum, her walls contracting around the dick inside of her. She floats, glad for the reprieve when the thumb stops stroking her clit, her legs falling open fully like their tension has been cut.
Her eyes are still shut a few beats later as she becomes gradually more aware of not only her actions, but also the feeling of sweat drying on her skin, and her shoulder blades hurting from where they’re pressed into the unforgiving surface of her desk.
“I’m gonna pull out now, ‘kay?” the words are subdued, spoken a tick or two lower than the typical volume that Vi exhibits on the daily. She hums in acknowledgement, which shifts to a noise of complaint as pressure pulls at her opening. It only lasts a moment before her cunt surrenders the mostly flaccid dick from inside of her, and she sighs with it.
She burns a moment later, her face lighting up when she feels the way she positively drips with cum and her own juices. Caitlyn’s thoughts cycle rapidly through the reality of not having another set of clothes with her, not being on birth control since the breakup, and knowing that the cleaning staff is absolutely going be aware of what events occurred in this room when they come in to clean in a handful of hours.
Cait just shy of panicking from the onslaught of thoughts when she feels the familiar sensation of her ex’s tongue pressing to her labia.
She hadn’t even noticed Vi sliding to her knees in front of her. She shudders, sensitive zaps of pleasure just shy of overwhelming press through her system with each pass of lips and tongue.
Violet seems content to continue licking at her long after the cum is cleared away, her motions ceaseless as Caitlyn teeters precariously between overstimulation and a second orgasm.
The tongue is dipping into her, pressing against her sensitive rim made sore from the grinding. She twitches violently, swinging harshly towards the ‘too much, too much!’ feeling that threatens to overwhelm her. She curls upward, the long fingers of both hands going to wrap into the messy fuchsia locks that tickle the inside of her thighs.
Her fingers flex, curling into the hair and tugging in retribution to the overstimulation. She pauses just before she tears her ex’s head away from her, the pleasure spiking as she feels Vi’s moan against her cunt, the lips pressing against her clit fully.
The soft whimper that follows, whispered directly against her center with a particularly hard suck, causes pleasure to snap through her system. It’s hard to not feel powerful with such a strong creature whining against her, the werewolf helplessly turned on by her hair being yanked.
Caitlyn couldn’t stop the rattling moan from escaping if she tried with all her might. It sings out of her, between her clenched teeth, her muscles spasming as her second orgasm lights her on fire.
“Off, off, off,” she mutters, begs really, until Vi complies and the sensations stop. The second orgasm almost feels bad coming so quickly after the first, bright red and burning as the pleasure-pain snakes through her nervous system.
She feels flayed and exposed, her limbs shaking as she lays back against the desk and lets her body return back to its baseline. The werewolf, luckily, seems to understand that she’s at her limit and blessedly doesn’t add a third orgasm to the itinerary for the evening.
“I think everyone else went home,” Vi’s voice flutters into her awareness after an unknown amount of time passes.
She cracks open her eye, observing the woman in front of her. She’s standing with her pants on again, but not buttoned, her head tilted to the side in her tell-tale, “I’m listening for something” posture.
“Thank god,” she mutters, her voice scratchy.
She’s awaiting some humorous quip about her inability to stay quiet, or how she’s going to wake up the whole neighborhood, or something equally infuriating and teasing. But it doesn’t come.
She continues to stare at Vi as she fiddles with her belt straps, her head tilted away from where Caitlyn can’t read her expression. There’s an uncomfortable stretch of silence where she isn’t sure how to proceed, her body laid uncomfortably on the hard, cold wood of her captain’s desk, papers still strewn around chaotically.
The gravity of what they just did presses down on the office, and the two fools that occupy it.
When Caitlyn sits up, her spine makes a couple pops in response to the angle change, having wound themselves tight from the position. She crouches, grabbing her underwear and pants off the floor and steps into them shakily. Her legs feel amorphous, unable to bear her weight, and she’s happy when she manages to sit heavily in her chair.
She can tell Vi is waiting for something, she just doesn’t know what it is. She’s standing further now, nearly at the door, despite not wearing her shoes, or jacket, or having grabbed the case file she’d been sent in with. She wonders for a moment if any of those things were occurring to her, or if she was so uncomfortable that she’d walk out of the room just like that.
Knowing how stubborn she was, she’d probably walk home barefoot, jacketless, in the late winter temperatures if it meant not facing her superior/ex-girlfriend/whatever-they-are-now for another few hours.
“Are you feeling better?” She ventures, tilting the chair to angle her more towards the other woman.
Vi nods, still looking more towards the periphery of the room than towards the desk.
“Yeah. Yes. Um,” she clears her throat, “Thank you Caitlyn. I know that… I mean, you can’t. You don’t.” She can feel the frustrating rolling off the werewolf as she stumbles over the phrasing. “I just appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it,” she offers, her tone neutral.
Vi flinches, subtly, hand coming up to rub at the nape of her neck. It’s a significant nervous tell for all of her species, their unconscious self-soothing action a leftover of their primordial upbringing. Mothers bite at their children’s necks, and the world keeps spinning.
Caitlyn feels lost, like she’s out on an island in the middle of the ocean, miles away from land.
“Okay, well, I’m gonna take a couple days to, y’know,” Vi shuffles, eyes sliding to look at Cait before bouncing away again rapidly.
She nods. She does know.
Vi takes a hesitant step, then another.
“Violet,”
She stops. Caitlyn wishes for once she was the one with enhanced senses, just to know if she was the only one with her heart beating out of her chest, or if her ex-girlfriend was also in the same state.
“Yeah?”
“You. Can’t go out like that,” she gestures to her form. Shoeless. Ruffled. Perfect.
“Oh,” she laughs, uncomfortable. “Yeah, let me…” she trails over the room, the sound of her bare feet colliding with the tile floor as she gathers her shoes and jacket, patting the pocket down for her phone.
Caitlyn feels like an idiot.
“Thanks again, Caitlyn.” She doesn’t like how much it sounds like “goodbye” and “we’re never going to talk again after this.”
She waves numbly, watching as the werewolf quickly closes the door to her office, the blinds tapping out a rhythm at the sudden disturbance. The office is silent, the clock well past midnight, and no emergent cases keeping enforcers here late.
“I’m a fucking idiot,” she hisses, once she’s sure that Vi has made it to the elevator and on her way out of the precinct. The panic hasn’t set in yet, but she can feel it thrumming somewhere within her. She rubs at her tired eyes and takes in the state of chaos her office is in.
She feels a little better after she’s gathered all the papers from the floor, and used some disinfecting wipes to thoroughly wipe down the desk and the chair she’d been sitting in.
She’s still barefoot, hair now up in a haphazard bun, and tapping her fingers against her desk as she tries to reorganize the documents into the neat piles she had before this round-de-vous occurred.
She startles when a knock raps against the wood of her office door. It’d been so quiet for the past 20 or so minutes the sudden noise has the power of a gunshot in the relative tranquility that had preceeded it. It sends a zing of adrenaline through her system, anxiety rolling in her stomach.
“Yes?” Caitlyn calls out after clearing her throat.
Vi looks incredibly uncomfortable when she opens the door, her mouth set in a grimace, eyes trained downward in a show of submission that isn’t lost on Cait.
“It’s snowing,” the gruff tone matches the expression, but doesn’t offer much information. She stares, her hand falling to the side where she’d been thumbing through a stack of papers. They’re positioned across from each other, and it feels like a standoff.
“Excuse me?” She asks, training her voice into a neutral tone.
The werewolf shifts on her feet, her neck rolling and popping once. She’s agitated, Cait notes distantly. This is more than some mild annoyance.
“It’s snowing, and I know you hate it when it snows at night, and it’s late so. I just,” She blows out a long, measured breath. “Can I drive you home?”
Caitlyn is stunned, blinking once as the stormy eyes finally meet hers.
“Please.” Vi punctuates, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket.
“I,” she starts, still reeling from the absolutely insane turn of events the last handful of hours has offered her. “Did you turn around for this?”
The fuchsia hair sways as Vi nods in affirmation.
She must be quiet for a beat too long, still staring at the woman in front of her, feeling unsure of the horrifying new territory they’d landed themselves in.
“My instincts,” Vi offers, finally looking away from the questioning gaze, “I just don’t like… the idea of leaving you out here. Alone.”
Cait’s mouth drops open and a little ‘oh’ escapes quietly at the admission. It hadn’t even occurred to her that it was a possibility, but she also had never slept with a werewolf in rut outside of her relationship with Vi. Until today.
“Uh, yeah,” she says dumbly, looking down to her pile of papers. “Just, give me a minute?”
Vi nods, some tension draining from her shoulders.
It takes Caitlyn an embarrassingly long time to finish the task at hand, her fingers fumbling clumsily over the papers as she finishes the piles and manages to shove her shoes onto her feet.
The werewolf stands patiently by the door, shifting their weight every few minutes from one foot to the other. Cait can smell the pheromones she’s producing even without enhanced senses, the woman properly in her rut now that the twelfth hour had passed.
She’s wrapping her scarf around her neck and attempting to combat the awkward hold she has on her tote bag to achieve the action when Vi steps forward and takes her bag.
“Thanks,” she offers, and is brushed off when she holds her hand out to take back the purse. She huffs, chalking it up to werewolf chivalry as she turns and locks her office door behind her.
The rest of the crew must have trailed out earlier than she thought, the office feels vacant without the bolstering energy of her employees. There are half-drunk cups of coffee left around the bullpen, messily organized papers in piles that rival Caitlyn’s in size, and a white board against a far wall with a bad game of hangman going in the corner.
It is snowing when they get outside, pretty heavily at that. The air is crisp when Caitlyn inhales it, welcoming the freshness after the stifling environment of her office had encaged her for nearly 14 hours that day.
Vi walks quietly, hands shoved in her pockets again, Cait’s laptop bag hooked over her shoulder.
Her car is running on the street outside the precinct, humming against the silence of the early morning. Exhaust pours from the red vehicle, it whisps upward in the dark night sky, dissipating quickly in the chill.
“You still live at the same place, right?” Vi asks when they’re clicking their seatbelts on. It’s horrifically familiar, and it sends a dull ache through her abdomen. She affirms and Vi nods, gripping the steering wheel and pulling away from the curb.
She’s a good driver, Caitlyn has to admit, she's shockingly cautious in the snow for all her overconfident bravado. She feels warm in the vehicle, the vents pouring heat that staves off the frigid night air.
Her apartment is about a 10-minute drive on a good day, it takes a little longer in the snow despite the lack of traffic. She can feel the crunch of snow under the tires of Vi’s car where it yields as she drives steadily towards the apartments in Piltover’s trendy downtown borough.
They hadn’t said a word to each other by the time she arrives, the car humming as it shifts into park and Vi remains still, eyes facing forward to the other cars parallel parked on the street.
“Thank you, Vi.” She says, genuinely. She watches the woman nod, but her eyes are far away, locked onto something in the distance. “Get home safe.”
She climbs out, snagging her tote from the backseat and closing the door gently. Caitlyn stands on the curb for a moment, expecting the other woman to peel away, tires screeching. But she doesn’t. The car continues to hum.
She waves awkwardly, becoming immediately embarrassed by doing so, and she clenches her fist against the feeling of it. Caitlyn’s boots crunch as she turns away and heads not towards her apartment’s entrance, but down the opposite direction towards the 24/7 pharmacy that sits at the block just past hers.
She’s made it a handful of steps when the engine sound cuts and she hears Vi exit her vehicle.
Caitlyn feels the ghost of a smile pull at the corners of her mouth for a moment before she turns, and watches the lumbering form of her ex-girlfriend approach her on the street.
“Your apartment is that way,” she says, her eyes opened wide with a hint of something unbalanced in them.
“Yes,” she offers, “and I need something from the pharmacy, so I’m going there first.”
“Oh,”
She turns, walking a few steps down the block, and isn’t shocked when she hears the crunching of snow behind her as she’s followed.
The pharmacy lights are too-bright against the white snow night, nearly blinding as they ding through the entrance. She walks with purpose through the main corridor of the pharmacy, nodding to the tired-looking faun that stands near self-checkout.
Vi trails behind her, she can feel the shape of her presence despite the lack of words spoken between them. Caitlyn has a moment where she thinks she’ll feel embarrassed by what she’s going to buy, but it’s not like they’d had a conversation about anything important before they decided to have sex in her office.
She turns down the Family Planning aisle and hears a pause in the footsteps that follow her. By the time she’s joined again by her werewolf shadow she’s already analyzing the morning after pill options laid out in front of her.
“You’re not. I. You didn’t tell me to,” Vi is stumbling over her words more now than she ever did during their first few dates. Caitlyn feels oddly sympathetic towards her, glancing at the werewolf whose eyes jump from her face to the medications and back again.
“We’re in public,” She offers and Vi’s mouth clicks shut audibly.
She finds one with the correct species and weight requirements, and brushes past the woman beside her as she walks back up to the counter.
The faun has to undo the security box that houses the pill, and he keeps a shockingly neutral face despite the obviously-in-rut werewolf and high elf duo that are purchasing the item. She tosses the little box containing a single pill into her tote and turns to exit the pharmacy.
She’s tired now, more so even than she was when this all started a few hours ago, which is shocking considering the number of hours she’d worked that day.
“You’re not on birth control?” Vi’s voice hisses behind her as they walk down the empty block, their footsteps from earlier already nearly covered by the rapidly collecting snowfall.
Caitlyn grimaces, unsure if she should just come out and say, “Yes I haven’t slept with anyone since we broke up because other people just aren’t that interesting to me compared to you, you absolute asshole.”
She decides against it, instead choosing to say, “I’m not dating right now, so I didn’t see the point.”
Vi is silent behind her for a moment then takes two hurried steps to catch up with Caitlyn’s longer stride.
“You let me cum inside of you knowing that I’m in rut,” she accuses. She sounds upset, but not angry. The elf can’t place the emotion.
“Yes, I did.”
Vi blinks at her then huffs out a laugh. “You’re insane.”
She doesn’t know how to respond to that so she shrugs, turning to the entrance of her complex and digs her keys out of her coat pocket.
Caitlyn’s mouth is opened, but she’s not sure what she’s about to say. It doesn’t matter anyways, because when she looks up and her eyes rest on the woman in front of her, the unknown words die in her throat.
Vi looks every bit like the overworked, hypervigilant, stubborn 28-year-old that she is. Her eyes are tired, dark circles influencing her to appear paler than she actually is. Snowflakes decorate her exposed hair, adding a quality of innocence. The blush on her cheeks isn’t from the cold, and it strikes Caitlyn that another wave of rut is probably about to hit her.
“You’re spiking again, aren’t you?” She accuses.
Vi’s mouth snaps shut where she’d opened it, and she has the wherewithal to look chastised. She gives a single, resolute nod.
“I can… I’m gonna go back and grab some suppressant.” She juts her thumb over her should back to where the white light of the pharmacy is visible.
There’s a teetering in the universe at that moment. A fork in the road that Caitlyn can see suddenly spread in front of her. The image of Vi fumbling to open a bottle of suppressants against the overwhelming pressure of her own instincts, her hands shaking and slick with sweat. The lack of relief she’d get for days as her body writhes for release, unhappy to have had a partner for the initiation of the rut, but not one to finish it out with. Caitlyn swallows, and feels herself fall effortlessly into a decision.
“Come on,” she says, waving her fob over the door’s scanner and hearing the deadbolt click open.
“What?”
“Come on,” she says more insistently, holding the door open for the werewolf who is gradually getting covered in more snow as the minutes draw on.
“Are you… are you offering to share my rut with me?” Vi asks, her voice is incredulous. Caitlyn can understand – they’d hardly said more than handful of words to each other in nearly a calendar year, and now she’s here, opening her door to a werewolf in the most vulnerable position they can be in.
It didn’t occur to her that Vi might say no until that moment, and the possibility of rejection makes her feel sick. She jingles the keys nervously, her grip on the cold glass of the door grounding.
“Yes,” she says with false confidence. “I am offering to share your rut.”
The werewolf doesn’t even let her finish the sentence before she standing closer to the elf, having taken a handful of unsteady steps forward until she’s leaning into her personal space.
The elevator ride up to her apartment is silent, but Caitlyn flushes with the proximity that Vi has decidedly induced. She can feel the warmth rolling off of her in waves, a juxtaposition to the frigid night air they’d just endured.
There’s a single lamp on in her living room that casts long shadows over the kitchen and entrance. Their shoes are left, soaked with melted snow, in a haphazard pile just past the doorway.
Cait is turned away, putting her coat in the closet, and unconsciously reaches back to grab the werewolf’s to repeat the action. She startles when her arm is grabbed instead, and she’s pulled to face the woman who had been hovering just behind her.
Vi is breathing a little harder, her mouth open to accommodate the increased demand for oxygen, the sharp lower canines visible from the angle Cait’s height gives her. Her hand is warm where it’s wrapped around her wrist, fully engulfing the delicate bones with her calloused palm and digits.
“Cait, can I…” the werewolf seems shockingly unsure despite the encounter they’d had just an hour ago. Her eyes are blown wide, pupils dancing as she stares up at the elf with a searching, desperate expression.
She hums in agreement, moving her free hand to push the snow-slick jacket from her broad shoulders. Vi shifts, allowing her to push the coat down her arms where it makes soft swishing noises until it pools at their feet.
Her long fingers fumble with the cognac leather straps of the gun holder that still loops the werewolf’s torso. She’s struck suddenly with the memory of their first encounter, more hesitant than this but just as reverent. The same fumbling motion bringing a wave of nostalgia, bittersweet and hot where it pools in her mouth with her saliva.
Her hands are shaking, slipping on the clip that curves under her weapon. Calloused fingers cover hers, pressing confidently to release the buckle, the tension bleeding out of the leather. Cait pushes the holster away, lowering it cautiously to the side table by her front door where her keys were thrown messily just moments before.
Vi’s shirt is still damp, her skin fever-warm and sweaty. It clings to her skin when Cait pulls at the bottom hem and encourages it up and over the mop of pink hair. She can feel keen eyes trained to her face, but she continues to look down, instead opting to trace her fingers along the freckles that decorate the collarbone in front of her.
She can’t tell if there are more than when they last saw each other like this, or if she’s misremembering. It leaves a bitter taste just on the end of her tongue, more memory than sensory, and she hums when the woman shudders at the ghost of her touch.
This situation is so unlike everything she’d ever known. With Vi, it was them dating, then together, then nothing. Should she pretend to be unaffected? Keep this professional, as much as one can, and part ways when the rut is over.
She traces her fingers under the soft skin of Vi’s ribs, relishing in the way the muscles jump under her fingers. Her hands pull upwards, fingertips sliding under the bra she’s wearing and encouraging it away.
The bare chest beneath her fingers heaves and rattles on an exhale. Vi’s hands press a line of warmth into her hips, squeezing the skin there.
“Cait,” she mumbles, sounding almost tired in a way, but she can tell it’s the way the rut weighs on her. It takes a lot out of the species to keep up this level of energy production, and ideally a werewolf would eat a significant amount in the days before in preparation.
Vi’s head comes to rest on her shoulder, the hairs that had grown longer since their breakup fall to tickle at the skin of her neck.
“Did you really not realize your rut was coming?” She asks, her hands drawing up the muscular plane of her back.
She snorts, shaking her head. “No, I thought I had two weeks still.”
“You’re bad at math,” Cait muses and feels her ex laugh against her in a heartbreakingly familiar sensation.
“Listen, it’s been a long couple of months,” her voice is all gravel, punctuated but a hum that trills deeper in the throat than she’d be able to manage. She used to teasingly call this her ‘purring,’ much to the wolf’s chagrin.
Fingers are on the bare skin of her back, the layer of her rumpled shirt and bra being pushed up and away until they’re both standing shirtless, facing each other with an unspoken tension.
“Are we going to get this going, or are you just going to stare at me?” She asks, the words tumbling from her mouth easily despite it all.
There’s a spark in Vi’s eyes, the storm grey brightening with challenge. Her teeth are large when she smiles.
She’s come to terms with how much she’s turned on by werewolf strength. It’s effortless, the way Vi scoops her up from under her knees, her long legs going to wrap around Vi’s waist as she carries her through the rest of the entryway and into the living room.
They’re staring at each other, their gazes heavy. Cait wants to kiss her, but Vi hadn’t done that yet, when she’d had plenty of opportunity to do so between the sex in her office and here.
She’s expecting to be deposited on the couch, or carried to her bedroom, but instead she yelps when her back hits the cold glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows that open to her balcony. The winter air has chilled them and it causes goosebumps to break out down her arms.
Vi is grinning up at her, her hands tightening over her ass and pressing hard into the soft skin there.
“Can I take these off?” It’s such an absurd question in the presence of all that’s happened but it makes Cait ache with the nostalgia of it. Vi was always like that, always so concerned with questioning her comfort level, always so in control of herself.
She nods, her feet meeting the hardwood as her ex-girlfriend crouches to pull her pants off for the second time that day. She’s still wet from their encounter earlier, she can feel as her skin is exposed to the chill in her apartment.
Vi’s hands slide up the backs of her legs, encouraging her to widen her stance. She leaves biting sucks on the inside of her thighs where the skin is plush and sensitive. Cait lets her head fall back against the window, a shuddering moan brushing past her lips as Vi’s mouth reaches her apex and licks into her once more.
Eating her out was one of Vi’s favorite activities when they were together, and it’s nice to see it hadn’t changed since their breakup, since she’d become quite skilled at it throughout their time together.
Her clit is upset at the prospect of more stimulation, though, almost stinging in protest to the rough handling from earlier. Cait hisses, using her hand to grab Vi’s hair and says, “Not gonna happen.”
Vi tilts her head to the side inquisitively, all puppy-like confusion at being stopped.
“I’m too sensitive for that,” Cait tries, staring down at the woman crouched beneath her, her messy locks pushed back in her long-fingered grip. Vi’s pants are still on, she notes at this moment, but she looks incredible topless. Her nipples are hard, blush-brown and decorated with freckles splashed across her breasts. There’s a set of clawmarks that had long since scarred that hook from the center of her chest further away from her line of sight.
The wolf hums, her eyelashes fluttering as she closes her eyes again, leaning forward to leave another bite on her thigh that stings sweetly. Cait watches, enraptured by the worshiping this woman is always so willing to do.
Her long legs nearly buckle a moment later when, despite her warning, Vi is licking into her. Her nerves feel exposed, nearly electric in their firing as the sensitive organ is stimulated more in the past two hours than it had been in months.
“Violet,” she hisses, gripping onto her hair harder, feeling the whine that’s exhaled against her center. “I’m serious,” she tries to pull her head away when she discovers the creature isn’t listening to logic.
A strong hand encircles her wrist and pulls her hand effortlessly from where it’d been tangled in fuchsia. Her legs are quaking, the stimulation firing so many different impulses, all telling her to do different things.
“Please,” she moans, hot all over. Her other hand is given the same treatment when she tries to push it into Vi’s hair, and it joins the other in the same grip that encircles them. Through this she’s given a moment of relief, Vi pulling back to readjust her grip and look up at her through heavy lashes.
“You’re an asshole,” she mutters and twists when it looks like Vi is going to press her mouth to her center again.
The elf is taller than her by just a handful of inches, but is far more slender where Vi is all muscle. When she stands from her crouched position, Cait is still looking down at her, but she feels smaller trapped in the gaze of a predator.
“I feel like you’ve said that to me before,” she quips, voice still rough but lightened by the humor.
She had called her an asshole, several times in jest, and one time not. She wonders if Vi remembers that she had said that during their breakup, all illogical hurt and horrible communication fueling her to lash out. She felt horrible afterwards, but the damage to their relationship had been irreparable before she cursed at her, and it certainly wasn’t improving after.
Her eyes soften a little when she looks at the woman now – she looked like she’d aged, all deep circles beneath her eyes and some apparent weight-loss. She wonders if she’d been sleeping.
Cait thinks she should say something in response, but she must wait a beat too long because instead, she’s manhandled to turn her front to the window she’d been pressed against, her wrists still caught in an ironclad grip.
Her nipples harden where they’re pressed against the frigid glass, her skin pebbled from the cold. She feels Vi’s free arm wrap around her narrow waist, pulling her back to press the hot line of her dick into the cleft of her ass.
It makes her twitch, the feeling of clothing separating them shockingly hot. She feels warm all over, except for where her chest and face are pressed into the winter-chilled window.
Vi moves her hand up to ghost along the curve of her breast, fingers coming together to pluck at her nipple. The skin tightens under the stimulation, sending a crackle of sensation through her nervous system.
She can’t move much at all, the hold on her wrists drawing her arms to one side and pinning her against the glass. The hot line of Vi’s body is blessed against her back, all zeroing on the tangibly different temperature at the line of her dick. It practically burns in comparison to the rest of her, hot even through the layer of her trousers.
She moans, her lips pressing together as she shifts her hips and pushes back into the heat. Vi’s breath hitches behind her, her fingers twisting at Cait’s nipple.
“Vi, more,” she gasps out.
The fingers leave her breast, trailing over the soft skin of her stomach and around her back. She feels them pet at her center, the skin there wet and warm.
She hums in pleasure when a finger strokes her twice before sliding inside of her. She clenches against it, her walls still sore from the round they did in her office.
If being eaten out was too much stimulation, fingering wasn’t enough. The slide is easy, her body so slick from so much sexual tension, especially after being effectively celibate for a year.
She moans, pressing back into the finger that curls within her, feeling herself getting wetter still around it.
Vi is methodical, pressing into her in an even tempo that keeps her right on the edge of building into an orgasm. Her skin feels tight as the minutes draw on, and an edge of desperation starts to set into her.
She feels completely out of sorts, her mouth opening around words she didn’t agree to let out.
“I thought you were going to fuck me,” she hisses, letting out a huff when she’s rewarded for her obstinance by an absolutely cruel thrust of the finger inside of her.
“I’m not sure you deserve it,” Vi mutters behind her, sounding hoarser now than she was earlier. Cait tests the hold on her wrists, attempting to twist them but to no avail. Her strength is nothing compared to a werewolf’s.
Caitlyn isn’t sure if it’s because she hasn’t had an orgasm in the last pay period or if she’s being affected, somehow, by the pheromones around her, but she feels crazed. She doesn’t just want to be fucked again, she needs it.
“Violet,” she hisses out between her clenched teeth, her cunt squeezing around the single digit breeching her. It isn’t enough, and despite how sore and open she is from earlier, she cannot stand it.
“God, you’re tight,” and Cait whimpers in response, twisting her wrists again in an attempt to force her ex-girlfriend into further action.
“Violet, c’mon,” she sighs, shifting against her finger. She’s finally granted some reprieve, a second finger squeezing into her and curling.
She lets out a low, drawn out moan, and presses her face against the glass of the window. The lights of the downtown borough are still mostly off, just the orange tone of streetlights and the occasional ‘CLOSED’ neon signs breaking the darkness of too-early morning.
“For someone in rut you’re taking an awful lot of time,” she criticizes, hiccupping on a moan when the fingers within her twist and press roughly in retaliation. It sends a wave of wanting through her, a throaty sound exhaling harshly through her clenched jaw.
“Please, please,” she’s never been above begging but this is a new low. She’s practically groveling, her skin feeling overly tight. She flexes her wrists where they’re trapped in Vi’s hand, the grip unyielding despite her genuine attempts to free herself.
She feels the tittering vibration of a growl against her back, the space where they’re flush together amplifying the sound at it sits in her torso.
“Violet,” she hisses, bucking against the fingers that are pressing inside of her. “If you don’t get inside of me in the next 30 seconds, I’m finding someone who will,” She snaps, her accent tight.
The bones in her wrist creak as the grip twitches, tightening in hold before she feels the press of teeth against the meat of her shoulder. She shudders, letting out a gasp that rattles in her chest. Vi had always been careful to not bite her in the past, exhibiting the same insane self-control she was at the moment – pressing the sharp points to skin but not piercing it.
“You’re not gonna find anyone else,” Vi’s voice sounds animalistic, the sound scraping against her where she feels the shape of the words on the lips that draw over her neck. “No one else gets to know this part of you, just me. This is for me.”
The words are punctuated by slick pressure inside of her, fingers twisting and thrusting. She lets out little whimpers at how rough the fingers are plunging into her, her cunt aching.
“Please,” she feels like crying. “Please, I’m sorry, I want you to fuck me.” She offers any words she thinks will do the trick. “I’m yours, you’re right, there’s no one else. Violet please.”
The fingers inside of her twitch and stop, a sharp inhale at the nape of her neck brings goosebumps to the skin. She tilts her hips against the lack of stimulation, feeling half-crazed in her desperation.
She’s about to open her mouth to snap at the other woman when she hears, “Do you mean that?”
Caitlyn nearly says, “mean what?” before she bites her tongue against the question born from frustration and actually thinks about what she said.
Her heart has been pounding for the last handful of minutes, so the uptick in rhythm is hardly noticeable. Vi probably still notices, she’s frustratingly intuitive when she wants to be.
She exhales and nods, her forehead moving across the glass of the window she’d been pressed into. “Yeah,” she closes her eyes against the whiplash from overpoweringly horny to 'I guess we’re talking about this now.' “Yeah, there’s only you, only ever been you.”
She can feel the werewolf’s shocked breath rush out of her, warming the skin where her lips are just shy of being pressed. Caitlyn feels herself twitching internally, the fingers there feel heavy in their stillness.
“Me too,” Vi says, vulnerable and unsure.
“Vi, should we… sit down and talk about this?” She asks, her body feelings too hot and too cold simultaneously.
“We could, but I really wanna fuck you again.” Vi says directly into her ear, teeth pressing into the lobe as an emphasis. The elf practically purrs, melting into the sparkling pleasure as she’s manhandled. The fingers inside of her draw out, the sound of moving fabric makes her exhale in anticipation. Her other hand moves again, pressing her thigh upward. Her foot drags off the ground, knee hooking over Vi’s forearm and leaving her stretched humiliatingly open.
She feels the fever-heat of Vi’s dick for the second time that day as it presses easily from tip to root inside of her.
She doesn’t even pretend to consider her neighbors as she lets out a wail. Her wrists are still trapped in Vi’s other hand, the calloused fingers rough where they're wrapped around her delicate skin. The sensations are strange, the juxtaposition of frigid winter air just outside the window with the long line of werewolf rut-heat on her back is delicious.
Caitlyn is a mess, and would probably be drooling if her open-mouthed pants weren’t drying her mouth horribly as the thrusts start up an unforgiving tempo. It feels so good, so unfairly good, to be pressed into like this by the only person she’d ever wanted to do it.
“So good,” she mutters, eyebrows scrunching as she closes her eyes against the pleasure. “Vi, Violet, it’s so good.”
She feels the growl kick up again at her back, heat pooling once against inside of her at the uncontrolled response.
“I want,” Vi starts, her breath gasping out of her and directly into Caitlyn’s ear, the sensation tickling the sensitive skin. “I want to mount you, can I?” She ends with a groan, teeth fitting once again into the skin overlaying her traps.
Cait is nodding before she can even think about it, chanting a breathless “yes, yes, yes” as soon as her mouth gets with the program.
Her wrists are sore when the fingers encircling them finally relent in their tight grasp. The skin there is red, and will likely purple in the coming hours, which she fixates on as Vi maneuvers her to stand on her own two shaky legs.
She’s guided towards her bedroom, the door left askew from that morning. Clothes are taking over the floor, dripping in messy pools where they’d been strewn previously and left to collect.
There’s a half-drunk glass of wine on the nightstand, her personal laptop is still open on the other side of her bed from where she’d fallen asleep watching a show the previous evening. Her coffee mug from that morning is sitting atop her dresser, which has not a single drawer closed. It's become part of a collection of mugs that decorate the surfaces of her bedroom, all half-full and becoming a permanent fixture in the wake of her laziness.
Her room is exactly what one would predict if they were to think of an anxiously-depressed young adult high elf, who is a workaholic and perpetually single.
She laughs at the withering look Vi sends her way, “What, are you going to judge me, or mount me?”
“Both,” the werewolf mutters, using the soft grip she’d had on her elbow to guide her to stretch over the bed. Caitlyn laughs again, turning to close the laptop and placing it on the floor.
Warm lips meet the ball of her shoulder as she stretches, and she lets out a soft sigh in response. Teeth join the sensations soon after, moving over in a biting-kissing-sucking motion that trails across the framework of her upper back.
She’s encouraged to her knees, the mussed blankets molding to her as she sets her weight low in her thighs and tilts her hips up.
She can feel the rumbling growl that answers, the sound vibrating through her ribcage. The position feels like walking into your home after a vacation; familiar, where things recently hadn’t been.
Caitlyn’s shuddering moan at being filled is loud in the relative quiet of the twilight hour. The position is a favorite of both of theirs, sliding just right so that the head of Vi’s dick is pressing incessantly against her G-spot.
The thrusts are stronger like this with Vi having more leverage to press more forcefully into her.
Her body is sore, especially her cunt, but the overwhelming amount of slick she’s producing eases the way and makes humiliatingly loud sounds as she’s filled over and over again. She’s so sensitive she can detect the exact moment Vi’s knot starts to swell again, the increased diameter barely perceivable in its initiation.
“God, Caitlyn,” Vi is breathing hard, her voice rough with the animalistic growth that rumbles through her diaphragm. “Can I knot you again?”
As if she’d say no, but she’s whiting out from the pleasure, her body winding taught as her pleasure begins to crest once more.
“Please, baby please,” her voice is so soft in comparison to the rest of the sounds they’d been making up until that point. Caitlyn’s inhale stutters at the begging and she clenches, shoulders drawing tight as she orgasms again. She chokes out an affirmative.
Vi’s response is to pound into her G-spot mercilessly, the walls of her cunt spasming as she cums, the slick sounds gaining even more volume. She burns with it, edging just shy of overstimulated, her voice coming out with high pitched little whimpers that punctuate the apex of each thrust.
The strain of the knot pressing into her, her skin yielding to the incessant pressure. She lets out hiccupping sob as a wave of pain-pleasure-pain overtakes her.
It takes an embarrassingly long time for Caitlyn to return to anything close to consciousness. She’s laying on her side, having been moved at some point, with her head resting on the muscular bicep of her ex-girlfriend.
She hums, shifting to relieve the pressure on one of her hips and Vi accommodates the movement with no grumbling, just quiet service.
She moves her arm to stroke down the muscular forearm that’s trapped around her waist, smiling at the freckles that adorn every possible inch of skin.
“I find it a little shocking that you hadn’t found another rut partner in all this time,” she says, fingers toying with Vi’s where they’re resting over her stomach.
“Of course I didn’t,” her voice sounds nearly drunk, all slurred together syllables. “I would’ve felt like shit if I had.”
That gives Caitlyn pause, her fingers stilling, “What do you mean?”
“The soul bond,” is mumbled sleepily into her neck. She feels the press of Vi’s torso as she inhales on a yawn. “Can’t do it. It woulda made me sick.”
Her nails dig into the freckled skin of Vi’s wrist and she feels the yelp exhaled against her neck. “The what?” she hisses.
“Oh shit,” Vi mumbles, sounding mildly more awake now that she’s picking up on Caitlyn’s anxiety. “Shit. Oh my god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tell you.”
“What do you mean you didn’t mean to tell me?” Caitlyn’s voice is getting shriller with each word, the accent punctuating the syllables dangerously.
She can tell if they weren’t locked together that Vi would have tried to run. Her muscles are jumping anxiously, twitching with the adrenaline that’s likely flooding the werewolf’s system at the horrifying minefield they’re now navigating.
“I mean,” Vi starts, pulling on her arm but yields when Caitlyn’s grip around her wrist tightens, holding her against her back. “I mean, it’s not. I didn’t want to pressure you.”
She sounds desperate. She sounds like she’s going to cry. Cait wishes they were tied facing each other so she could at least see her face, despite how much she hates the way that position puts pressure on her cervix and back.
She inhales through her mouth, holds it, and exhales through her nose. There’s a slight fall in the blood pressure that was steadily rising, but her body still feels wound tight with the sudden onslaught of information.
Soul bond. Vi is soul bound to her. And didn’t tell her, even before they broke up nearly a year ago.
“Since when?” She asks calmly, keeping her voice measured.
Her heart aches at the sniffle that she hears before Vi clears her throat and says, “Um. Since I think… August, the year before this?”
So, nearly 6 months before they broke it off.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” She tries to not sound accusatory but she can’t help but feel confusingly hurt over the secret.
Vi presses her forehead into the curve of her neck, rubbing back and forth for a second in a soothing motion.
“You said we… weren’t serious,” she says wetly, and Caitlyn feels her eyes prickle with sympathy tears. “To your mom. When she was asking why I was over that one Sunday.”
She remembers that Sunday, it was probably just a couple weeks before the soul bond must have set in. She hadn’t wanted the fifth degree that day, she was hungover and nauseous from a night out celebrating her promotion. Her mother had been the last person she wanted to deal with under those conditions.
She'd shown up unannounced and Vi had opened the door. It was a whole thing, and she remembers the pounding headache as her mother hissed questions to her on the relative privacy of her balcony while Vi was in the kitchen making her coffee.
She wasn’t shocked to know that her enhanced hearing had picked up what she’d said her mother. It hadn’t occurred to her that Vi didn’t know that the words she had used weren’t genuine. The high elf council member was appalled at the prospect of her only offspring sleeping with not only a colleague, but a werewolf at that.
When her mother had been placated, and left with a derisive sniff towards the woman who had offered her a cup of coffee, they hadn’t talked about it. Just went about their day, with Caitlyn none the wiser that her girlfriend had heard her downplay their relationship to her own mother, and Vi not aware that she hadn’t meant it.
“Oh,” she sniffles sympathetically, “Oh Violet, I’m so sorry.”
Vi shakes her head, curling around her tighter.
“I didn’t know you… I should have never said that, I’m so sorry. I never meant it, you have to know that. I always thought we were serious.” Her voice is getting thicker with each word.
They’re both crying now, pathetically shaking apart in the quiet of the early morning.
“God, how much that must have hurt you. To hear that then get a soul bond so soon after. Violet, why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why would I?” She sounds downright miserable. “I didn’t think you would be interested in… anything with me.”
“Violet I was,” she cuts herself off, feeling unsure of how to proceed. “You were planning… on suffering alone, with no partners, until you died. All because of something I said to my mother.”
Vi lets out a watery laugh, “It sounds stupid when you say it like that.”
“It is stupid!” She nearly yells. “Even if… even if I didn’t have feelings for you, I would have done something. I know that this happens sometimes in your culture and couples work something out, why do you think I’d be unwilling to do that?”
Her heart is thudding against her chest, she knows that Vi can hear it, but she can also feel it under where her open palm rests against her diaphragm.
“Do you think I’d be so cruel to say no to you like that?” Caitlyn whispers, her voice cracking over the question.
“No,” Vi startles, “No, that’s not. It wasn’t. I didn’t think you’d… I,” she’s stumbling, her voice coming out somewhat panicked between the shaky inhaled sobs.
“Shh,” she corrects herself, her fingers unraveling from her wrist, stroking along the back of her hand. She switches her hands, her other arm going up to brush into the hair laying over her neck, pushing her fingertips into Vi’s scalp. She tones back her emotions, bleeding sympathy and forgiveness into her voice. “It’s okay, I’m not mad. I’m not going to get upset.”
They stay like that, time stretching onward in the limbo they’d created. Vi’s sniffles die down, her cheek damp where she rests it against the skin of Cait’s upper back. By the time her breathing is more even, the knot’s pressure isn’t pulling so hard at her rim.
She takes her hand off of Vi’s hair and uses her fingers to gently pry at her folds, letting the phallus slip from inside of her with a shudder. Vi’s grip around her midsection tightens.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she shushes. “Can I roll over? I want to look at you.”
It takes a beat, but the arms ensnaring her loosen, allowing her the ability to shuffle awkwardly until she can look the werewolf in the eye.
She looks truly piteous, her eyes red rimmed and full of unshed tears. Cait brings her hands up to the tear-striped skin and brushes the moisture away from the corners of her grey eyes with soft strokes of her thumbs.
“Violet,” she starts, searching her features. “I’m so, so sorry that I never emphasized how important you are to me. What I said to my mother… there’s not an excuse for that, and I cannot imagine how much it must have hurt to hear that.”
Vi sniffles, tears running down the curl of her high cheekbones just to be brushed away by Caitlyn’s waiting fingers.
“I’m sorry too,” she croaks. Caitlyn shushes her again, stroking her gently.
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I hurt you,” she says. “By not telling you about the soul bond.”
Caitlyn smiles at her, feeling her stomach swoop at the genuine distraught the words are spoken with.
“You’re so good, Violet.” Cait says, her voice soothing. “You take on so much and bear it all on your own. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad for the choices you made, it was a lot to process. I know you had your reasons.”
Vi closes her eyes, relief passing over the features that had been scrunched in anguish.
“That being said, I do expect to be there for each and every one of your ruts going forward.”
Her eyes fly open, staring at her with open shock. Caitlyn’s blue eyes twinkle with mirth, openly amused by the werewolf’s shock.
“But. You.” She starts, “You might end up in… like, another relationship, and then. Cait, that isn’t fair to you.”
“I’m not going to end up in another relationship.” She says confidently.
Violent opens her mouth, then closes it again. Then opens it, “Do you mean… Caitlyn you have to… can you please just tell me what you mean?”
Caitlyn uses the hold on her face to bring her forward, fingers cradling her delicate pointed ears, feeling the press of metal against her skin. Their lips meet, Vi’s mouth soft and salted from her tears. She yields easily under the elf, letting out a pathetically soft sound.
The kiss is so chaste it’s almost laughable in comparison to everything else they’d done in the last few hours.
“I’m in love with you,” Caitlyn says, putting it out in the open for the first time. “I have been since we started this two years ago. I was when I lied to my mother and said we were nothing serious. I loved you when we broke up, and I loved you through the last year.”
Vi is staring at her, eyes wide in disbelief. Her mouth is parted in shock, staring at her as she pours her soul out through her teeth.
“I need to work on telling you that, because it’s obvious that we missed the mark somewhere. But I’d like to do this. Whatever this is. If you don’t want to date me again, that’s fine, I’ll be happy just doing this. If you don’t want to see me outside of ruts, I can handle that,” she’s going to keep going, but she’s cut off by Violet’s domineering press of lips and teeth that leave her breathless.
The kiss steals the fire from her, her mouth opening against the other woman’s submissively. Vi’s fingers trace along the long, pointed skin of one of her ears, sending sparks of delicate pleasure through her scalp.
“I’m soul bound to you,” Violet says, sounding accusatory. Caitlyn nods with the information. “How could you think I’m not in love with you?”
She’s breathless all over again, meeting the lips of the other woman and relishing in it.
She feels hot all over, but a different kind. The tightness is new and exhilarating, all bubbling joy.
They keep kissing until the drop of adrenaline leads Caitlyn to break their connection to yawn. Violet sniffles into her neck, inhaling at the curve of her jaw and sighing contentedly.
“You can bite me in the morning if you want,” Cait mumbles into the room a moment later. The sun is rising, casting long bright arcs across the room where they didn’t draw the curtains. The snow dampens the yellow from the light, leaving it a warm muted grey.
Vi is up and on top of her in a second, and Cait grins as she cracks a sleepy eye open to look at the werewolf leaning over her. Her eyes look so tired, so worn from the long day of rut and emotions, but they’re bright with a spark of passion.
“Do you… do you know what you’re asking for, with that.” It’s a question but it doesn’t sound like one with how seriously she utters it.
“Of course,” she opens her eyes fully, staring up at the woman atop her. “I have about 6 Werewolf Relationships & Dynamics books shoved back in that closed there.” She gestures to it with her eyes.
Violet doesn’t respond, eyes moving minutely as they shift between Cait’s.
“Won’t you… get in trouble, for me being… I mean, we can’t work together.”
“Violet, we don’t work together,” she says flatly. “You transferred to the specialist division 4 months ago, you’re under Grayson now, not me.”
The woman stares at her, eyebrows furrowing as she continuous to search her expression.
“Then why did… they take me to you today?”
Caitlyn snorts, “Because I’m still your emergency contact.”
“You’re what,” she asks flatly. She pictures the way her big fluffy ears would have drooped in shock if she was shifted, like Cait had only seen her once before.
She snickers, winding her arms up to pull the wolf to lay back against her. She can feel the thoughts reeling behind the quiet mask that Vi has put on.
“The point still stands.” She whispers, her hand curling over the pink tangles and brushing against the nape of her neck. She feels the skin there shiver at the stimulation. “If you want this, if you want to do it that way. I’m in, 100%.”
She feels a sniffle against her neck and the subtle sensation of her nodding.
_____________
Cait is pulled from the blissful float of sleep by a sudden shift in temperature. Where she had been almost too hot before, curled in soft sheets on her side, she’s now disturbed by a sudden ghost of frigid air. She makes a noise of protest, curling in tighter to stave off the cold, and feels blankets shifting around her to fully enclose her once more.
“Sorry,” Vi whispers, brushing a hand over her sweat-matted hair. “I’m gonna take a shower, do you want to join?”
It takes monumental effort for Cait to answer, her mouth dry and words whisper-sweet, “Are you spiking again?”
“No,”
“Then no,” she mumbles, pulling the bedding around her further and nuzzling into the hand that strokes through her hair a few more times. Vi huffs a laugh and leave a warm mark with her lips on her forehead.
She’s drifting again, caught somewhere between wakefulness and dreamland, all soft, pink-tinged warmth. She hears the distant sound of showering, then movement, then silence.
She wakes again fully an indeterminable amount of time later. The light in the room is brighter than the first time she woke, likely firmly in the afternoon by that hour. She shifts and cracks, her muscles aching in protest to being moved.
Cait grins when she opens her eyes, noting the glass of water on her bed stand. She drains it in one go when she finally manages to sit up and shimmy over to the side of the bed.
She’s still naked, so the brisk air in her room brushes gooseflesh down her limbs. Her skin is tacky with dried sweat and cum, her hair feeling particularly gross after she slept on it and it had a chance to mat and tangle.
“Hey,” Vi draws her attention to the doorway of her bedroom. She’s dressed in Cait’s clothes, a set of joggers that are too long on her and one of the oversized shirts she used to like wearing to yoga, back when she had the energy to go to yoga.
Her throat is scratchy despite the water when she repeats the greeting back to her.
“How are you feeling?”
“Kind of like I had sex for the first time in months with a werewolf in rut,” She leans back on her arm and quirks an eyebrow at the woman across from her.
“So… sore?” Vi asks, with a positively adorable tilt to her head.
“A little, but I’m more hungry than anything. I don’t have much here, but if you want, my grocery delivery app is on my phone somewhere. You can get whatever you want, you definitely need the calories.”
“Oh yeah, by the way, I texted Talis earlier and told him… uh, well, not everything, just that you’re with me right now and that we’re not going to be back at work for the next few days. Then he called your phone like three times in a row, but you were sleeping, so.”
Cait throws her head back and laughs, picturing the minotaur frantically calling her after the events of yesterday, probably convinced she’d gone insane.
Vi has a soft expression on her face when she meets her eye again. She hums on the end of her laugh, smiling back openly.
“He’ll be fine, I’ll call him later. Go order food, I’m going to shower.” She throws the blankets off and her ankle pops dangerously when she finally gets out of bed.
She doesn’t notice until she’s walking out of her bedroom in a t-shirt and leggings, her hair damp and tamed, but there are no piles of clothes strewn across her floor. Nor are there half-drunk cups of miscellaneous beverages hanging around on every flat surface of her home. There's the smell of a candle burning, some eucalyptus thing her mother had given her some time ago.
“Did you clean my apartment?”
“Not… all of it.”
“You’re nesting,” Cait accuses, pointing at her with relish. The werewolf flushes all the way to the tips of her pointy ears.
“You’re… pregnant,” Vi mutters, looking away.
Cait snorts, “Not yet, technically, but I probably will be in a day or so if I don’t take that pill.”
Vi is notably quiet, watching her approach with rapt attention.
“Is that my shirt?” She asks, glancing from the band t-shirt back up to Cait.
“Yep,”
“I figured you would’ve burned it,” she laughs, plucking at the material with her fingers before moving her arms to encircle her shoulders.
“I usually sleep in it,” She responds honestly, leaning her head against Vi’s and returning her embrace. “I missed you.”
She hears the breath stutter out of the werewolf.
“Me too. I missed you so much, Cait.”
They part when there’s a knock at the door, and she shoos the woman away so she can retrieve the groceries at the door.
Snagging her phone on the way reveals that she has several missed calls, and even more text messages. She responds by liking one of Jayce’s texts that says, “like this if you are alive and also not currently under the influence of any drugs or hormones or spells.”
Her phone vibrates in her hands a second later, she laughs into the receiver when she answers.
The bags are heavy with food as she snags them out of the hallway, halfway listening to Jayce high-pitched questioning through the speaker.
“I’m fine.” She says finally when he gives her a moment, “I made this decision out of my own free will and I am deeply glad I did so.”
“Oh,” Jayce says, “so you’re… I mean, things are good?”
“Yep,” she emphasizes, depositing the bags in the kitchen and giving the werewolf who is sitting in the living room a pointed look that screams, “sit down” without words.
Violet, luckily, obeys.
“Okay. Well I called your boss and told him what’s going on, so your station will be fine until you decide to return to the land of the living.”
“Thanks Jayce,”
“You don’t need anything, right?”
“Nah, we just got groceries delivered, we’re all good here.”
They say their goodbyes, and she lets her phone clatter to the counter as she turns to put away the mystery groceries.
“Do you want something to eat? You have to be hungry,” Cait asks, turned with her head facing the pantry. “Eggs? Bacon? Pear?"
“Sure,” Vi says from the other room. She’s reclined with her phone in her hands, typing away.
Cait’s struck at how familiar it all is. How easy it is to fall into this routine. She ponders this, cooking quickly. Vi had done her dishes, which had been embarrassing in volume just that previous day. It’s nice to cook in a clean kitchen, she muses.
They eat in relative silence until Caitlyn can’t stop replaying words in her head from the hours previous.
“So, about that bite.” She says, taking a sip of her water.
Vi would have choked had she been eating something, which the elf had predicted. She looks so startled that she almost laughs.
“Uh, yeah. About that.”
“No pressure, you don’t have to bite me if you’re not ready.”
Vi exhales, leaning back against the couch and tilting her head to the side to meet her eyes fully where the other woman is turned and facing her head-on.
“It’s more of a question for you than me. I can live with how we are now forever, but once I bite you, there’s no going back.”
“But it’ll be harder for you,” she offers.
“Maybe a little, not anything I wouldn’t be able to handle.”
“You’re so self-sacrificing,” She chastises. “You’re allowed to make demands in your relationship.”
“Not for this.” Vi says, completely serious. “Not if you can’t go back on it.”
“Vi, I don’t want to go back on it.” Caitlyn emphasizes. “Is it so hard to believe that I want to be with you forever? That I want to be tied to you like this?”
Vi looks uncomfortable, her eyes jumping but not moving away from Cait’s.
“It’s not that that I don’t believe you,” she looks vulnerable, her skin lightly flushed and eyes bright. “It’s… I don’t want you to regret it. You say this now but what if… I mean, I’m still an asshole, Cait.”
“I should have never called you that,” She states gravely. “You’re not an asshole, not really. You’re stubborn and you always think that you’re right, but you’re not an asshole. However, you cannot tell me that I’m going to change my mind. Because I’m not.”
“To be fair, I was being an asshole during that argument,” Vi has a bit of a smile in her voice which brings Cait’s shoulders down from where they’d been bracing anxiously. “I’m sorry, for being an asshole. And not telling you what was wrong so you had a chance to fix it.”
“I’m sorry for making you feel like you couldn’t come to me with what was bothering you.”
Vi rolls her eyes, obviously over the apologies by this point. The elf leans over and presses their lips together, her leg curling over her to press into Vi’s lap where her legs are splayed open.
“How long have you been spiking for without telling me?” She asks, her thigh brushes the hot edge of her hard penis under the borrowed sweatpants.
Vi chuckles, “Only a few minutes, I swear. It seemed like an important conversation, I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Well,” she says, perturbed, “Interrupt me. You’re allowed to do that.”
“Oh, I am, am I?”
“Yes,” Cait sniffs, shifting so that she’s leaning over the werewolf, her legs bracketing one of Vi’s. “I expect you to be completely open and honest with me from this point forward, just like I expect myself to do the same with you.”
“Okay.”
“We’re in agreement then.”
“Yes, Cait. We’re in agreement.”
“Great. And you’re my girlfriend now, again, if you want to be I mean. We can start off dating again if you want.”
“Caitlyn. You want me to give you a mating bite but you don’t want me to call you my girlfriend? Make that make sense for me.” She’s amused, Cait can tell by the light note her voice has taken on at the end of her sentences.
She throws her hands up, “I don’t know, I’m trying to give you options here.”
“I only need one option.” Vi wraps her arms around her waist, leaning forward so that their lips can meet in an intimate brush full of emotions. “I just need you. However you want to be here. I’d like if we were mated, but I’m fine with waiting. And I want to date you. And marry you, at some point. And have kids, if you’re okay with that, it’s cool if not-”
Caitlyn cuts her off with another kiss, pressing her lips forcefully into the blabbering woman beneath her.
“Yes to all of it. If I wasn’t afraid of an intervention from every person in my life right now, I’d suggest keeping the one we probably have currently.”
Vi is staring at her worshipfully, eyes wide and incredulous. “You’d keep it?”
“Well, yeah. I want to have kids with you. We need to like, live together first though, that feels like a pretty important step.”
“Okay,” Vi says immediately.
“What, to living together?”
“Yes. Whenever. Now, tomorrow, I don’t care. I’ve been crashing with my sister for too long anyways.”
She’s shaking with quiet laughter, the enthusiastic spark in Vi’s grey eyes is inspiring.
“You really are so good, Vi.” She whispers sweetly, pressing her lips to the curve of her mandible. It’s easy to direct her head to the side with her fingers twisted in the locks at the base of her skull, the coarse texture familiar on her fingertips.
A whimper eases through her lips, her hips shifting on the couch under Cait’s knees. She can feel the hot press of her dick against the skin of her thigh where it’s trapped between her legs.
“You’re such a good girl.” She mumbles into the hallow of her throat, absolutely relishing with the ‘ah!’ that answers her when her teeth sink into the soft skin there.
Vi’s hands on her ass squeeze, pressing into the layers of fat there and leaving stinging pricks of pressure at the apex of her fingers.
“I wanna do something for you, okay? I just have a rule.” She says, leaning back to look into the blown pupils in front of her. Vi nods, enraptured. “Okay, I’m going to suck you off, if you’re okay with that. But you cannot knot my mouth.”
Vi blinks at her, processing the words sluggishly. Her hands flex again on the skin of her ass, the motion bringing her knee closer to grind against her dick through the layer of sweatpants.
“I would… wow, yes. Yeah.” She nods and Cait grins down at her, taking a moment to direct the werewolf into another soft, open-mouthed kiss. She licks at the sharp canines, relishing in the glide of the points against her tongue.
It takes a bit of maneuvering to get off of the wolf and onto her knees, but she manages it mostly gracefully. Vi helps her shimmy the borrowed lounge pants from her hips and she kicks them away.
Her dick is flushed a rosy pink from root to tip, and it feels warm under the press of her hand as she wraps around it and strokes once.
Vi is staring at her when she looks up, eyes jumping from her own dick to where Cait is crouched, looking up at her through her long eyelashes.
It really is a treat, Cait only did this one or twice when they’d been dating, and never in a rut. She didn’t like the way it felt on her jaw, and the werewolf was all the more willing to accommodate that. But she had a sudden, overwhelming desire to taste her, to give this to her.
“I’m not finding a hair tie, could you hold my hair back?” She asks, maintaining eye contact as she leans forward and presses the flat of her tongue to the spongy head.
Vi lets out a breathy noise, her hands coming up to brush back the long indigo locks that are still damp from her shower. Rather than pulling on her hair, they cradle her skull, almost reverently.
Cait hums contently, opening her mouth to fit the head of the phallus just past her teeth. She uses the tip of her tongue to press into the bottom side of it, feeling the frenulum there shift under the pressure.
She relaxes her jaw, spit collecting in the cavern of her mouth that helps ease several inches further into her. The wet suction must feel good, because Vi shudders, her fingers flex on her skull.
The pressure doesn’t bother her as much as it had previously, and she uses it to her advantage, bobbing her head in long, even strokes. Her spit spreads over her dick, her hand pressing firmly around the base where she feels the telltale sign of swelling, indicating exactly how much Vi is liking it.
She presses her tongue to the underside of the head again, feeling the way the muscles in Vi’s thighs jump where her elbows are resting on them.
She feels powerful, reducing this strong, stubborn woman to a panting mess, her mouth parted slightly when Cait glances up to her face. She presses forward again, engulfing more of the dick and swallowing around it as it hits closer to the back of her throat. The pressure makes her salivate.
“Cait,” Vi sighs out, “I’m gonna cum in a second.” She hums in acknowledgement, pulling back again to then repeat the series of motions. The weight of it in her mouth is perfect, scratching whatever itch it was that sparked the idea in her mind.
Her hair shifts, the fingers curling around her locks and twisting. It’s all pressure, no pain, and she loves the feeling of Vi’s hips twitching under her, the thrusts easing the strain on her neck by meeting her somewhere in the middle.
She moans when she tastes salt and musk, it spreads quickly through her mouth and down her throat. She swallows once before she pulls her head back, feeling cum spread from her mouth outward as the volume becomes more than she can handle.
Vi’s dick is so warm under her hand, the knot having swollen, albeit less than it does when she’s locked inside someone. The skin there is taut, muscles jumping as she unloads herself. Cait uses the cum to ease the pass of her hand, squeezing her from root to tip, and looks up to meet the grey eyes dark with pleasure. She feels herself flush, her face growing warm with the realization of how debauched she has to look with cum dripping from the corners of her mouth down to her still-clothed chest.
“You’re the hottest person on this planet,” Vi says, completely serious. Cait swallows again, nearly choking on the cum she’s still attempting to not spit out as she tries not to laugh.
“You’re absurd,” she says, her hand coming to a stop.
“And right,” Vi says. She slides her hand behind Cait’s skull and encourages her forward, dragging her until she's sitting on her lap once again. The heat of her cunt presses down on the dick beneath her; she feels herself clench once in response to the pressure there. When their lips meet, she’s surprised when her mouth is guided open, and a long tongue comes to lap at her lips.
She moans, feeling hot all over and presses down once on the dick beneath her.
“Can I return the favor?” Vi asks, breaking the kiss.
“How quickly can you get hard again?” She inquires instead of answering.
Vi blinks owlishly, “Uh, probably like, 5 minutes. Maybe less. I’m really turned on right now.”
Cait nods, “Good, I want to ride you.”
She looks shell-shocked when she pushes herself to stand, offering her hand to the woman who takes a moment to grab it and pull herself up. She guides her into her bedroom to where the sheets are still rumpled and perfect, and presses the wolf to sit on the bed.
“Are you okay?” She laughs, having managed to pull the shirt off of the woman with her still looking far away.
“I feel like I’m being spoiled.” Vi answers, looking up at her finally and watching as Cait takes off her own ruined shirt and leggings she’d donned.
“You deserve some spoiling.” She says, climbing on top of the woman once again and encouraging her to lay back. She looks tan and pretty against the white sheets, her skin freckled and warm.
Vi’s hands curl over her hips, stroking her thumbs over the soft skin of her lower stomach, sending little flashes of sensitive pleasure zinging through her skin.
She shifts her hips, pressing against the heated dick that lies beneath her. Vi was right, it wasn’t taking her very long to get hard again, the rut and smell of happy, horny high elf combining to drive her hormones into action.
She’s sensitive though, throwing her head back and writhing at the sensation as she grows harder as the minutes pass. Cait is dripping onto her, her folds gaining wetness from the external friction, and the sight of Vi’s breasts heaving with her shuddering breaths.
“Can I?” She asks, her arms going to brace herself over the prone form beneath her. Vi is shaking slightly but nods in affirmation, guiding her to stand on her knees as she presses her dick up and against her center.
She lets out a low, even breath as she sinks down on it, twitching as the werewolf does a half-trust and pushes more of herself into her cunt.
She opens easily around it, still feeling somewhat bruised, but not quite as tight as she’d been the previous day. She grinds when she hits the base of it, feeling the knot that had never fully deflated press against her entrance. Vi mutters something as she continues to do that for a beat.
“What?” Cait asks, leaning forward again to get closer to her face. The motion pulls the dick a few inches out of her, and she uses her leverage to press back on it, ensheathing it in her again.
“I said, you’re gonna be the death of me.” Vi answers, her hands flexing on her hips and guiding her into a tempo.
“Hah, I hope not,” she breaths, sliding down on her again, and again. “I just got you back, I’m planning on keeping you as long as I can.”
Vi is smiling when she looks back up at her face. She smiles back, clenching internally as her hips tilt and presses the dick against her walls in a particularly good angle.
She takes one of Vi’s hands and pulls the rough skin to press over the swell of her breast. Her nipple is hard against her palm, the warmth from her skin bleeding into the plush tissue.
They’re both making soft noises, the elf’s mouth dropped open in pleasure as she fucks her girlfriend. She feels warm, the heated gaze that’s trained to her is tangible despite her own eyes having slipped closed. Her cunt is soaked, the sounds of it opening around Vi’s dick are loud in the otherwise quiet bedroom.
“Can I come in you?” Vi breaths, her thumb and forefinger pinching her nipple between them and sending sparks across her skin.
“You’d better,” she muses, repeating the same line she’d said the night previous. Vi plants her feet on the edge of the mattress and uses the leverage to fuck up into her.
Cait has to stop her motions, doing little more than bracing over her and shaking as her G-spot is repeatedly struck.
She feels the pressure of Vi’s knot strain at her entrance for a second. She shifts her legs, widening the angle of her hips, and the organ slides fully inside of her.
She tightens rhythmically, not quite orgasming but pressed right up on that edge.
Vi is a mess, growling beneath her like an old engine, her mouth open on the crux of a second orgasm so close after the first.
“Violet,” she says, bracing above the woman with her arms caging in her head. Her blue eyes crack open, mouth askew. “Bite me.”
She doesn’t have to be asked twice. She’s flipped, the dick inside of her pulling but not coming dislodged as she becomes encircled by her werewolf girlfriend. Her legs are hooked over the strong thighs that bracket her, the dick pressing against her in a downright evil position that leaves her still just shy of coming.
It isn’t a problem for long.
“Here?” Vi growls into her throat, pressing her lips to the soft skin just to right of the hollow of her throat. She nods, squeezing her arms around the broad shoulders, and screaming when sharp teeth press through the derma.
Her vision is gone, she notes distantly, feeling like a cloud overtop a river for an indistinguishable amount of time. She blinks twice, slowly the shadows of the room start to make sense, her mind moving sluggishly.
Her arms are still around Vi, albeit only loosely, her hands having clawed into the skin of her upper back. Her hips are aching, her knees too, but the knot feels still quite large inside of her where she can tell cum is being held within.
Her girlfriend is licking at her neck, the motion sending little stings of pleasure through her body.
She brushes her hand upward, cradling the back of her skull and sighing with the easy affection. Vi hums contentedly, pressing her lips to the mark and sighing out of her nose.
“You smell so good,” she mumbles there. “You always did but wow, this is something.”
“What do I smell like?”
“Rain,” Vi’s voice sounds far away. “And something sweet, like flowers. Lavender, maybe.”
She hums, toying with the pink locks and wiggling a little to relieve the pressure on her lower back. Vi exhales a moan into her neck, feeling the pull on her dick and presses harder into her for a second. She huffs back, unsure how she feels about going immediately into another round.
She realizes, nearly instantaneously, that she can feel how pleased Vi is at the prospect of that.
“Oh my god.”
“You can feel it, huh?” Vi says, pulling back to look at her. Her eyes are sleepy, half-lidded and incredibly pleased.
“Yeah, that’s. Wow, they really weren’t kidding about that.”
It’s not exactly a psychic connection, but something close. A mood detector of sorts, brought on by the sudden ability of Cait to detect Vi’s pheromones just as much as Vi can detect hers.
“You’re stuck with me now,” Vi says, an amused tilt to her voice.
“Good,” she emphasized. “I’m so fucking happy.” And she is, her mouth pulled wide in a pleased grin, feeling the answering joy that sings through her system that she intuitively knows is coming from the wolf in front of her.
It’s why she isn’t so mad when Vi does slide one round into the next with very little hiatus. She’s soaked, the sheer amount of cum that had rushed out of her when the knot is able to be pulled from her sends a shudder through her body.
She feels burning hot when Vi just continues the motion into another easy rhythm, not even fully pulling out before pressing back into her.
Cait’s cunt is spasming around her, her legs twitching with haphazard pleasure.
“Vi, this position is killing my back,” she groans, her hands sliding over the broad shoulders above her.
She huffs into her neck and presses another kiss to the mating bite, just as she’d been doing for the last few minutes.
“You wanna turn over? Would that help?” She nods in response, untangling her arms and feeling the wave of cum that drips out of her flow down her thighs as she rolls to her stomach.
She’s curls her back upwards like a cat when Violet presses back into her. This change in angle makes her dick feel almost unbearably large, pressing tight to her walls that cling to the stimulation.
“You feel incredible,” Vi says, one of her hands pressing over the meat of her shoulder. The very tips of her fingers press to the sensitive edge of the teeth marks on her neck making her shudder. “You are incredible, holy shit.”
Caitlyn can only whine, her body yielding to the near-unbearable sensations as she’s fucked again. She isn't sure if it even counts as an orgasm, some taught line in her snapping and leaving her drifting in warm pleasure.
She is drooling this time, her mouth open against the pillow trapped between her and the mattress, her fingers twisting in the fabric. It takes several more minutes for Vi to come this time, having back to back orgasms affecting her refractory period.
When she does, the press of the knot is familiar and welcome, settling something in her that she hadn’t realized felt somewhat frantic. She wonders if that’s her girlfriend’s rut emotions driving her desperately closer to the werewolf’s instincts, craving the sensation of them locking together just as much as the other woman is.
Violet is cursing, her forehead sweaty where she presses it to Caitlyn’s shoulder. She’s shaking, she can feel where they’re pressed together, her muscles jumping reflexively.
“If you try to make me come again, I’ll cry.” She mutters when the werewolf finishes arranging them in a position on their side. Vi chuckles into her neck, the hand of her left arm pressing to Caitlyn’s bite.
“Noted, I’ll give you a minute.”
“Or an hour, maybe.” She jokes, feeling wrung out and feverish after the back-to-back stimulation.
“I love you,” Vi says, quiet and happy.
“I love you, too,” she responds honestly.
They drift. The day outside grows dimmer as the minutes stretch into hours, the couple dozing well into the evening.
It starts to snow again by the time the natural light has left the horizon, big flecks of white obscuring the line of buildings that are visible through her bedroom window. Caitlyn watches it sleepily, her eyes half-lidded.
Eventually, she needed to get up and change the sheets. They both needed to shower again, and definitely cook something for the werewolf who is happily dozing at her back. Her calories were far too low for the physical demands of her rut, her body probably exhausted by the drain but working hard nonetheless to keep her soul bound content and satiated.
She's not too inclined to disturb her. It had been several months, nearly a year, since Cait had been comfortable in her bed. It was nice to sit with that and just let it be felt.
She presses her hands down where they’d come to rest on her stomach, laughing at the very idea that she’d agreed to have sex with a werewolf in rut without birth control. Vi’s face in the pharmacy flashing to her mind, incredulous and something else.
There had been an emotion in her eyes that she couldn’t place at the time. She thinks she knows what it is now that the story has fully unfolded. Violet wanted it – she wants the baby, was probably singing with the prospect of her soul bound being pregnant with her offspring at that very moment. But she was afraid, trepidation bleeding into the want, probably choking her with it.
She strokes the soft skin on her stomach, looking down to where her girlfriend’s arm is still thrown over her chest, fingers still making soft, delicate contact with the sensitive teeth marks of her fresh mating bite. The skin there is warm, pulsing gently with her heartbeat.
“It’s too soon,” she reasons.
Despite that, she continues to lay there, wrapped in a warm embrace. The unconscious detection with her newfound senses reveals the whole-body contentedness of her girlfriend. Violet lays in the twilight of half-sleep, smelling like heat and earth, chest rumbling in a low purr that buzzes against her skin.
In that moment, it doesn’t feel like too bad of an idea.
Fin