Work Text:
Vi is just starting to doze off in her upstairs apartment when three sharp knocks rattle the oak door to the parlor downstairs.
Her eyes immediately go to the clock in the corner of her bedroom. It's far too late, and she doesn't have any appointments scheduled tonight. Perhaps a prospective client? She should go down and tell them to come back at a reasonable hour. A woman needs her beauty sleep or some shit.
"We're clos—," Vi starts to say as she throws open the heavy wood door, and the words catch in her throat.
A tall woman with long dark hair steps right into the parlor like she owns the place, paying Vi no mind as she beelines for the binders that show Vi's work.
"Hey, it's literally midnight. You can come back tomorrow to make an appointment," Vi protests, but the woman waves her off with a flick of her hand.
Vi simmers under the surface with annoyance. Unfortunately, it would be easier to be pissed off if Vi's intruder weren't so smoking hot. Her black jumpsuit is tailored to fit her tiny waist, and the neckline plunges in a deep cut, all the way to her navel. Long, thin gold chains dangle down between her breasts, and they shimmer in the dimly lit foyer with every page the woman flips. Her jawline is sharp, and she possesses an elegant, intimidating beauty. She is, without a doubt, Vi's type, and she needs to leave her shop immediately.
Before Vi has a chance to tell her this, the woman snaps the binder shut. She reaches up to wipe her hand across her face, and a streak of red smudges across it. Her vision rolls over her stained knuckles, and that beautiful jaw tightens with a sense of resolve. "You'll do."
"What?" Vi asks incredulously.
"Full back. Vibrant colors, but the dragon is blue," the woman says easily. "You'll start tonight."
"Okay, slow your fucking roll," Vi retorts, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Who are you to bust in here at midnight and start making demands? And a full back color tattoo? That's easily five thousand cogs."
"I don't care about the price," the woman dismisses. "Your work is what I want. I'll pay double if you start tonight."
Vi's jaw drops. Double would cover three months of rent. She might be prideful, but she's not stupid, even if this woman was obviously yakuza. Vi grew up in the Undercity—she knows exactly what a tattoo like this means.
"You drive a hard bargain, Cupcake," Vi replies, rounding her desk to sit down with a sketchpad.
"Cupcake?" the woman scoffs.
"Yeah, 'cause you're so sweet." Vi's voice drips with sarcasm, but she puts the tip of her pencil to paper, looking up at the surprised woman and asking, "What's your vision?"
The good news for Vi is that the woman knows exactly what she wants, but she's willing to give Vi complete artistic liberty. She's critical about the placement of various elements, but never comments on the art itself, letting Vi scrawl out her ideas freely. When Caitlyn has provided Vi with a sufficient amount of detail to work on her own, she leans back against the wall and closes her eyes, like a wave of weariness has hit her all at once.
Vi is sympathetic, but not that sympathetic—if she had it her way, they would both be asleep right now. The ancient grandfather clock in the stairwell rings out twice, and Vi sighs. When she looks at the woman, she sees the red smudge on her cheek again.
"You wanna wash up or something?" Vi asks. Maybe it says something about her lack of sense of self-preservation that she's willing to let this infuriating yakuza use her bathroom, but tonight has already been a little insane. If this woman were going to kill her, she would have already done it by now.
The woman cocks her head, and Vi points at her cheek. A pained expression twists on her face, and Vi can see her manually close the valve to her own emotions. Maybe Vi is a bit more sympathetic than she hoped to be. "No. I need to remember."
Vi hums at that. It's not her business to pry, and it's never done her any favors. Asking too many questions tends to make you a target, and Vi has had enough of that for a lifetime. "You gonna tell me your name, at least?"
The woman seems startled by the question, as if she hadn't anticipated Vi's friendliness. "Caitlyn," she murmurs, just loud enough for Vi to hear.
"Caitlyn," Vi repeats. "Do you have any other tattoos?"
"No," Caitlyn says easily.
"Are you prepared for how much this one is going to hurt?"
Caitlyn's expression is dark, haunted by something that seems to settle heavily in her bones. "The pain is just the beginning of the penance."
"Okay, time to go," Vi says suddenly, shoving the stencil in the top drawer of her desk.
"What?" Caitlyn's voice teems with irritation. "I told you, we start tonight."
Vi shrugs, grabbing Caitlyn by her slim shoulders and turning her toward the door. "I'm not putting a needle in your skin on no sleep, no matter how hard you try to bully me into it. Come back at noon."
Caitlyn huffs, but the way she droops in exhaustion tells Vi that she needs the rest. "Fine," she acquiesces.
"Night," Vi says as she pushes Caitlyn out of her door. After it slams shut, Vi slumps back against the solid wood. Before she has time and willingness to contemplate the weirdness of the night, she stumbles up to her room and passes out face down on her bed.
Vi manages to eke out six hours of sleep, and not shockingly, Caitlyn arrives at noon on the dot. In contrast, Caitlyn doesn't appear to have slept at all. She's still wearing all black, but this time, a loose blouse and a blazer with a pair of tailored slacks.
"Where do you want me?" she says without preamble, and Vi has to fight the urge to roll her eyes at the lack of greeting.
"This way," Vi says, leading her to a private room. She draws a curtain between the doorway and the table for privacy and turns to Caitlyn. "Your shirt and bra will need to come off, but we can get creative if you're uncomfortable with your shirt being fully off. I'll give you a moment to do that and to get settled."
"No need," Caitlyn says, tossing her blazer on the chair. Vi moves to turn away as Caitlyn reaches for the hem of her shirt, but Caitlyn slowly shakes her head, maintaining blazing eye contact. "Watch."
The fabric draws over her stomach, revealing a series of moles sprinkled across her soft skin. She isn't wearing a bra, and her tits are capped with perfect brown nipples. She looks smug as she tosses the shirt onto her crumpled blazer, radiating satisfaction from Vi's slack-jawed expression. She lets Vi enjoy the view for one long moment before taking her place on the table, the gorgeous expanse of her back stretched out on display.
This woman is going to be the death of her.
Vi clears her throat and steadies her thrumming pulse. "Okay," she continues, "I'm going to shave your back, and then I'll disinfect your skin."
Caitlyn waves her hand dismissively. "Do as you must."
Vi wants to be annoyed, but she finds it difficult as she draws the razor down Caitlyn's back. She is surprisingly toned and muscular, something that didn't show in her jumpsuit the previous night. As she shaves her skin, she finds herself tracing the line of Caitlyn's spine, spiraling off to dip into the dimples on her back. When she realizes what she's doing, Vi pulls away like she's touched a hot stovetop.
"You have the body of a fighter," spills out of Vi's mouth, an attempt at an explanation for her wandering hands.
"Is that so?" Caitlyn muses, a knowing tone in her voice.
She doesn't seem mad, however, so Vi returns to her actual task, preparing her client for a tattoo instead of feeling her up on the table. She's done this process a thousand times, could probably do it with her eyes closed. Once she's finished, she lays the stencil over Caitlyn's back, pressing it down firmly and pulling the sheet away.
Vi places a small mirror in Caitlyn's hands and points to a full-length mirror in the corner of the room. "Take a look at the placement. I can make any corrections as needed."
"No, it's fine," Caitlyn says. "I trust you."
Vi is caught between gritting her teeth at Caitlyn's stubbornness and the blooming warmth in her chest from Caitlyn's trust. "Can't take it back once I start putting ink in you, Cupcake. Last chance."
"Just do it already," Caitlyn hisses.
Vi tried her best. Oh well.
She starts with the outline, reading Caitlyn's body language and expression to gauge her pain tolerance. Beyond the initial wince from the needle piercing her skin, she seems to be handling it just fine. She's completely silent the whole time, staring blankly ahead at the wall. Most people would at least scroll on their phone for the distraction.
"Okay so far?"
"It's fine," Caitlyn says, voice flat. What the fuck is wrong with this woman?
Once Vi finishes the outline of the head of the dragon, she offers Caitlyn a break.
"Keep going," Caitlyn commands, but it falls short of her intended intensity.
Vi puts her tattoo gun down and stares at the stubborn woman in front of her. "You need it. I'm not going to have you pass out on my table."
Caitlyn begrudgingly sits up, accepting the bottle of water Vi passes her way. She makes no move to cover herself, finding pleasure again in Vi's struggle to maintain eye contact.
"Am I allowed to ask why you're being so fucking prickly?" Vi asks, placing her words somewhere between playful and cautious. "Or will I end up at the bottom of the Pilt if I know the answer?"
Caitlyn gives her a searching look, the line of her throat working as she swallows the last of her water. She's still beautiful, but she looks so, so tired. "It's too long a story to tell."
She lifts her arms to stretch, and while this time she isn't doing it to be alluring, it still has the same effect on Vi. She flops back onto her front and issues her directive.
"Keep going."
The sun has set by the time Vi is finished with the linework, and she wipes the sweat from her brow with her forearm. Caitlyn takes the session like a champion, though Vi still has to force her into every single break.
There is a sense of urgency that is making Caitlyn restless, something beyond just the discomfort of the tattoo. Vi wants to know, even though it's stupid and ill-advised. Something about Caitlyn piques her interest in a way that no woman has before.
Vi peels her gloves from her hands, tossing them in the bin and washing them at the nearby sink. "Come back in four weeks for your next session."
"Four weeks?" Caitlyn asks incredulously. "No. I need it done by the end of this week."
Vi lifts one scarred eyebrow. "Your tattoo will take me about sixty hours to finish, and it needs time to heal."
"Cancel your appointments for the week," Caitlyn demands. "I'll pay your daily rate in addition to what I've already promised you."
"My schedule doesn't change the time your body needs to heal."
Caitlyn's expression turns indignant, and she fishes a small vial from her pocket filled with a luminescent purple substance. Vi sucks in a harsh breath as Caitlyn uncorks it and pours it directly into her mouth.
Her body shudders for a moment, power rippling through her veins, and her pink-tinged eyes glow as she looks at Vi, a defiant look on her pretty face.
"I don't want that shit in my shop," Vi snarls. "Get the fuck out."
"I'll be back tomorrow," Caitlyn says, pulling her shirt and blazer back on before striding out the door without looking back.
Vi's fist meets the wall before she even has time to think about it.
Vi does reschedule her appointments, and she wonders if Caitlyn's shimmer gave her a contact high. Otherwise, she must be insane for agreeing to all of this. Was it just the power of rich girl pussy?
Caitlyn strolls in the next morning like nothing has changed, like she didn't ingest one of the potent drugs on the black market in front of Vi. She doesn't look like an addict, which means that she's either dealing it, or even worse, manufacturing it.
This is the last fucking thing Vi needs right now. But because she's an idiot, she shows Caitlyn to the same table, and again, Caitlyn takes off her shirt, tits on full display for Vi to see, and takes her spot on the table.
"The color is going to hurt much more than the linework," Vi warns. "It's okay to ask for breaks."
Caitlyn sets a steely look upon Vi. "I'll be fine."
She was not fine.
Caitlyn holds it together well in the beginning, but an hour in, her breath catches on every other stroke. Her fingers clench on the table, and finally, sick of watching her suffer, Vi pulls the gun away. "It's time for a break," she announces.
"Keep going," Caitlyn says with gritted teeth.
Vi places her tattoo gun on her cart, giving the woman on her table a stern look. "I'm not a fucking sadist, Caitlyn."
"I told you to keep going," Caitlyn snarls over her shoulder.
Vi is sick of arguing about it at this point. Fine. So much for trying to be fucking nice or professional.
So she continues, and Caitlyn trembles, fingers white as she grips the faux leather of the table. She continues, and Caitlyn sucks in shaky, pained breaths. She continues, and finally, Caitlyn's voice cracks in a muted sob.
"Why are you punishing yourself?" Vi finally asks, coloring one of the dragon's eyes as her living canvas falls apart beneath her. "There's no reason to put yourself through this at this pace."
"It's all my fault," Caitlyn chokes out.
Vi's tattoo gun stills on Caitlyn's back, and the moment of reprieve from the pain is all it takes for Caitlyn to unravel.
All of a sudden, this confident and strong woman is sobbing on her table.
Well, Vi might be an asshole, but she's not a monster. She rolls her chair over to Caitlyn's side, stripping the gloves off her hands and pulling Caitlyn's hair back from her sweaty neck. "We can stop for today if it's too much," she soothes, and she's not sure why she has such a soft spot for this woman who cannonballed into her work and life. Caitlyn buries her face into Vi's neck, her tears spilling down into her white, cropped tank top.
Vi doesn't know what Caitlyn is going through, but her pain is familiar enough that she scoops the woman into her arms and keeps her there until the sobs wracking her body subside.
After Caitlyn runs out of tears, Vi continues with the tattoo. Caitlyn is adamant that Vi put more time in today, and luckily, it seems that Caitlyn's episode has relaxed her to some extent. She's able to finish the top quarter of the tattoo today, and there's the same satisfaction that always comes with seeing her art come to life on someone's skin. It'll be a beautiful piece when it's done.
"Do you have your shimmer with you?" Vi asks as Caitlyn is about to pull her shirt back on.
"No," Caitlyn says. "You told me that you didn't want it in your shop."
For some reason, the fact that Caitlyn listened to Vi makes her feel warm inside. "Bring it tomorrow," Vi says.
Caitlyn cocks her head in curiosity. "Are you sure?"
"I don't want you to become some shimmerhead because you're being stubborn about this tattoo," Vi says. "I can apply it topically. But don't… don't drink it in front of me like that again. I've seen too many people waste away on that shit."
Caitlyn's expression, for the very first time, seems soft. "I won't."
"See you tomorrow, Cait," Vi says.
"See you tomorrow."
The next day, Caitlyn is more talkative.
"You never told me your name," Caitlyn says, turning her head to the side so she can watch Vi work.
"I usually don't need to," Vi says. "It's on my face."
"Six?"
"Vi," she corrects.
"Why the face tattoo?" Caitlyn asks.
"Did some time." It wasn't a highlight of Vi's life, and the reason for her incarceration was even less so. "I was just a number in there, so it was kind of a stupid joke."
"What is Vi short for?"
Vi pauses and contemplates whether she's comfortable telling this woman her real name, having known her for only three days. "Violet."
Caitlyn tries to hide a smile. "I can see you as a Violet."
"Are you just saying that because I'm a lesbian?" Vi asks, unable to suppress her own grin.
"No, I could tell you were a lesbian because you couldn't take your eyes off my breasts," Caitlyn teases.
"I'm a professional, but I'm not blind," Vi says easily.
A long moment of silence passes before Caitlyn speaks again. "I am too, you know."
"A professional, or blind?"
"A lesbian. Don't be daft," Caitlyn says with no real seriousness in her voice.
Vi switches the color on her gun as she meets Caitlyn's gaze. "It would be pretty odd if you weren't, though I've met a few straight girls who get off on the attention."
"Did you fuck them, too?" The boldness of the question sends a bolt of heat through Vi.
"Sometimes," Vi answers honestly. She understands her own potency, her own attractiveness, and isn't above using it to scratch an itch—but Vi typically isn't much for one-night stands.
Caitlyn hums, and her questioning dies off. Vi isn't sure if she went too far with that disclosure, but there's no point in figuring it out now. Another quadrant of the tattoo is done, and Vi removes her gloves.
"You brought your shimmer?" Vi asks, and Caitlyn nods, palming the vial in her pocket and handing it to Vi.
Vi feels her stomach roil in revulsion just looking at the substance that decimated her community and nearly killed her sister. She wants Caitlyn to know how significant it is that she's even touching shimmer, but she can't say it without revealing too much of herself. She pops the cork off the vial, dips a thick brush in, and wets it.
It's almost like painting, Vi thinks as she covers Caitlyn's back in the glimmering substance. Caitlyn sighs as the numbing effect of the shimmer sets in, soothing the redness and rawness of the tattoo as the brush passes over.
When she draws a thumb over Caitlyn's skin to check that it's healed, she feels the softness of it again. She wants to take that tiny waist in her hands and pull this gorgeous, complicated, disastrous woman into her body in ways that would feel great for both of them.
But Vi is a professional, so she'll be good. She has work to do.
"That feels much better, Vi," Caitlyn says, tugging her shirt on once more. "Thank you."
"No problem," Vi says casually, feeling her face heat up from Caitlyn's praise. Oh, she's down bad.
"See you tomorrow, Vi," Caitlyn says as she heads out.
"See you tomorrow."
It all comes out on the fourth day.
The spine is the most brutal part of the back tattoo, and Caitlyn is feeling the hurt. She whimpers periodically as the needles run over the sensitive skin, and Vi gives her more breaks than in previous sessions.
As Vi draws over a particularly painful part of her spine, Caitlyn starts talking.
"My mother died," Caitlyn says, like the words are in danger of suffocating her. "It was my fault."
Vi hides her surprise to the best of her ability. "I doubt it was your fault."
Caitlyn shakes her head. "Unfortunately, it was. I trusted the wrong people and now my mother is gone," she says. "They shot her right in front of me."
Vi flashes back to the smudge of red on Caitlyn's cheek the night they met, and it puts Caitlyn's exhaustion and grief into better context.
"The ritual for me to take her role begins on Saturday, and I need to show that I can lead them well," Caitlyn continues.
"If you don't mind me asking," Vi starts before she has time to doubt herself, "Why a blue dragon? Why not gold?"
Caitlyn's eyes gleam with deadly seriousness. "I don't need the power. Her murderer is dead."
Two seemingly unrelated statements, but Vi can draw the line. Gold for power. Blue for protection. She was right to think that Caitlyn was someone powerful. She is not just yakuza—she is kumicho.
"I'm honored that you trusted me with this," Vi settles on. She should be horrified, she should distance herself from this, but Vi is merely a woman that Caitlyn chose to trust, and that is enough for her.
"I'm grateful that I stumbled into your shop on the worst night of my life," Caitlyn responds, and her smile lights Vi up from the inside.
The final day comes, and Vi trudges downstairs in a state of mourning.
It makes Vi a little insane that she's so bothered that she won't see Caitlyn again after today. She has no reason to come back to Vi's shop after this—yakuza tattoos always remain hidden for a reason. She'll keep the rest of her skin bare and this will just be one strange week that their paths overlapped in life.
But as Caitlyn enters the private room once more, Vi feels inspired, because she's proud of this tattoo. The dragon has already come to life on Caitlyn's back, and it moves sinuously as Caitlyn's arms cross over her head to rid herself of her shirt. It's the first time Caitlyn has turned away from her to pull her shirt overhead, and Vi isn't above admitting that she misses the sight of her tits. She shouldn't feel upset about it, should feel relieved that Caitlyn is done goading her, but she pushes it down and readies her gun.
Vi has only been working for ten minutes when Caitlyn murmurs, "Tomorrow."
Another day of small talk, it seems. "Are you ready?" Vi asks.
"It doesn't matter if I am or not. Tomorrow is coming, regardless," Caitlyn muses. "But yes, I am. Mother prepared me well."
Vi hums. "I bet she'd be proud of you."
"Surely, you jest," Caitlyn says, burying her face in the crook of her elbow to hide her eyes. Vi wonders if she's tearing up.
"You're strong and capable," Vi says. "And you said that you took care of the problem, right?"
"Careful," Caitlyn says, turning her to the side to watch Vi carefully. "You make it sound like you know more than you should."
"You wouldn't have come into my shop if you wanted someone ignorant," Vi shrugs. "There are plenty of other Piltie artists who wouldn't know what your dragon meant. You came here, though."
Caitlyn doesn't respond, continues staring at Vi as if she's trying to unpeel all of her layers. The feeling of someone trying to look through her is unsettling, but she pushes it aside, focusing on filling each block of color carefully.
Luckily, after a week of constant tattooing, Caitlyn's pain tolerance has increased tremendously. With a few finishing touches, Vi cleans Caitlyn's back and brushes the tattoo with shimmer.
Vi allows herself one final indulgence, running her hand down the length of Caitlyn's spine. She watches as the goosebumps form in the trail of her touch, Caitlyn lightly shuddering, and then the moment ends.
"It's done," Vi says, handing Caitlyn the hand mirror again. "Take a look."
This time, Caitlyn doesn't toss the mirror back—she stands up, and she turns around, and uses it to look at her tattoo in the full-length mirror.
The moment is long and heavy, and Vi has the feeling that Caitlyn views this as a sacrifice, that her tattoo is a physical manifestation of her own guilt. Vi sees it as nothing of the sort. She sees a living, breathing, grieving person who stepped into her parlor and chose to be Vi's canvas over anyone else.
But more than anything, Vi sees her as a woman, and everything she's felt over the course of the week teems under the surface. Vi's teeth ache at the sight of her tiny waist, at how she towers over Vi, especially with her chunky boots.
"The cogs are in my bag," Caitlyn says, turning to face Vi. She's still topless, and again, Vi's eyes are drawn to Caitlyn's brown nipples, perked up in the cool air of the parlor. "But there's something I'd like to do first."
Vi isn't stupid. She sees the challenge in Caitlyn's eyes. The thought passes through Vi's mind: she'll ruin you. But before she has time to listen to her own advice, her hands are already in Caitlyn's hair, and she's kissing her.
They both groan in relief, the dam of desire breaking and washing over both of them. Caitlyn's hands slip under Vi's arms, feeling the strong muscles of her back while Vi's hands palm the breasts that had been tempting her for a full week. Caitlyn gasps into her mouth, and the sound is so sweet and intoxicating that Vi can't help but slip down to Caitlyn's ass, guiding her legs around her waist and lifting Caitlyn off the ground entirely.
"What are you doing?" Caitlyn asks, eyes wide in surprise. Vi guesses that she's never been picked up before.
"I don't fuck clients," Vi says, walking them toward the stairs to her apartment. "But you're not my client now, so I'm taking you to my room."
Caitlyn's lips curl into a grin at that. "How honorable of you."
"There's no honor in what I want to do to you," Vi says honestly, and Caitlyn's expression darkens in pleasure.
"And what is it that you want to do to me?"
Vi kicks her bedroom door open and sets Caitlyn onto her bed, the topless woman sitting on the edge completely unselfconscious in her nudity. "I want to see my art while I fuck you."
The corner of Caitlyn's lip curls in satisfaction. "You want to fuck me like a brute?"
"Says the masochist," Vi intones, digging through her dresser drawer for her harness. When she finds it, she tosses the pile of leather on her bed, bouncing neatly near Caitlyn. "Do you have a size preference?"
"I can take anything," Caitlyn says smugly, and the flicker of annoyance Vi feels lights her up inside.
"A size queen and a menace," Vi bemoans, slipping out of her cargo pants and pulling the harness over her hips. Vi can feel Caitlyn's appreciative gaze rolling over her sculpted abs, and she isn't above a little showmanship. She slides the fat dildo into the o-ring, giving it an exaggerated stroke and drawing her blunt nails over her abdomen. "I get the vibe that you're not the type who likes being degraded."
"Not unless you want it hurled right back at you," Caitlyn teases, shimmying out of her pants and panties all at once. "I'm usually the one doing the fucking, but I've been too busy wondering if all that muscle was just for show."
Caitlyn turns over onto her front, lifting her hips and putting herself on display. Her thighs are already wet, shimmering with her need, and Vi dives down face-first into the neatly trimmed hair between Caitlyn's legs.
"Fuck!" Caitlyn groans, low and guttural, canting her hips up to give Vi the angle she needs. Caitlyn tastes so good, so much better than Vi could've imagined, and she pours slick onto her tongue. Vi grips onto Caitlyn's hips, pulling her up even higher to allow Vi to lap at her clit. Caitlyn trembles underneath her, fingers gripping into the sheets as Vi takes her fill.
Vi can feel Caitlyn ratcheting up, and she moans into her cunt, thrusting her tongue inside until Caitlyn grabs her by the hair and pulls her away.
"Put it in," Caitlyn commands.
"Do you need fingers first?" Vi asks, a gentleman at heart.
Caitlyn turns over her shoulder and rolls her eyes. "Do I need to draw you a fucking road map? Put your cock in me, Violet."
"Disrespected in my own home," Vi grumbles, notching the dildo's thick head against Caitlyn's hole. She can see the way Caitlyn pulses around it, trying desperately to draw it in. Gods, Vi has no idea how she's lucky enough to end up in bed with this gorgeous of a woman, but she'll count her blessings later when her work is done. She grips the base of the dildo, feeling it give as it pops inside Caitlyn's pussy.
Caitlyn's moan is even better than when she was being eaten out. She shifts slightly from side to side, pushing back into the cradle of Vi's hips and working the cock inside her. The effect this has on Caitlyn's tattoo is gorgeous, and Vi's hands dig into the layer over fat just above her hips.
"Fuck, you feel so good inside me," Caitlyn groans, arching her back into each thrust. She flips her long hair over her shoulder, unable to hold back from goading Vi further. "Are you going to move, or do I have to do all the work myself?"
This bitch. The safety is off, and Vi lets loose.
"Oh!" Caitlyn gasps as Vi uses her full body weight to drive her into the mattress. "Fuck, yes, Vi—"
Vi's arms fall to either side of Caitlyn, bracketing that slim, lithe body between them, and Vi mouths at the sweat-soaked skin on the back of Caitlyn's neck. If Caitlyn was anyone else, Vi would leave a series of marks that she would feel for weeks, but she knows better than that. Caitlyn isn't hers, but Vi can fuck her like she wants her to be.
"Gods, fuck, Vi, so good," Caitlyn moans helplessly into the sheets. "You're going to make me come."
"I want to feel you," Vi breathes against her ear.
Caitlyn's hand tucks underneath her body, rubbing at her clit until she snaps beneath Vi. Her pussy clenches on the dildo, and the resistance is so good that Vi can feel her orgasm through her cock. She could come like this if she lacked respect for Caitlyn's experience, but instead, she slows herself, keeping her weight from crushing Caitlyn underneath her.
"That enough for you?" Vi asks, hoping that the answer is no.
Caitlyn grins, rolling onto her back even though she's still panting lightly. "Never."
Vi wakes the next morning to a faceful of midnight blue hair and the soft rise and fall of Caitlyn's chest. Dawn is just beginning, golden light peering through the blinds and illuminating the woman in her bed. She's so peaceful like this, in a way that Vi hasn't seen her this entire week.
Caitlyn slowly opens one eye, peering at Vi as if she was awakened by her staring.
"What time is it?" she asks, her voice thick with sleep.
"6:00am," Vi says easily. "When do you have to leave?"
Caitlyn groans. "Now, unfortunately."
She sifts through the piles of clothes at her feet, and Vi sits up in her bed, suddenly feeling awkward. Why? She knew going in that this would be casual, so why is the weight of Caitlyn leaving sitting like a stone in her belly?
Caitlyn tugs her ruined underwear and pants back on, pondering where her shirt was for a moment before remembering that she'd left it down in the parlor. "Will there be anyone down there at this hour?"
"Not this early," Vi says, throwing on a pair of shorts and a tank-top to walk her downstairs. She finishes dressing, and after, Caitlyn tosses her a hefty bag.
"Your payment," Caitlyn says nonchalantly.
Vi opens the bag and shit, Caitlyn wasn't kidding about paying her double. It might be blood money, but it'll pay the rent just the same.
"So…" Vi starts, but suddenly doesn't know what to say. "Thanks, Cupcake. For everything." Stupid.
Caitlyn's face melts into something fond, and she strokes her thumb over Vi's jaw, pressing a kiss on her cheek.
"And thank you, Daughter of the Hound of the Underground," Caitlyn replies.
The shock runs through Vi all at once, her body instantly on high alert. "You knew."
"I'm far from stupid, Violet," Caitlyn countered, her gaze sharp. "Do you truly think I'd trust just anyone with a tattoo this significant?"
Vi exhales shallowly. "This wasn't just a tattoo."
"And you are far from stupid, as well," Caitlyn continues, tapping her short, manicured nails on Vi's cheek. "I want only the best in my family."
"I left for a reason, Cait," Vi protests. "If you know who I am, then you must know why I left."
Caitlyn stands before her, every bit a blue-eyed dragon. "And you must know that I never make the same mistake twice."
She slips her hands into Vi's hair now, thumbing across Vi's freshly shaved undercut. There's tenderness behind it, even under Caitlyn's sharp gaze.
"Come with me, Vi, and you'll have the power you need to protect your family," Caitlyn assures.
Vi's been played before. She should know better, but she thinks of the softness of Caitlyn in her bed. Caitlyn has her snared, and she's known it all along.
Vi sucks in a deep breath and opens her hand.
Caitlyn presses her family's crest into it and smiles.