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“You’re a cutie,” Powder had said.
“Pretend you work here,” Powder said.
“Her name’s Matilda, but you can call her whatever you want,” Powder said, except this time to a masked stranger, whereupon the absurdity of the situation struck her like a hollow point.
“Yes, my name’s Matilda,” Caitlyn had agreed, like an idiot.
And now here she was in a private room in this hazy brothel, alone with a notorious criminal who had garnered a reputation for ruthlessly pummeling information out of outlaw and enforcer alike, now responsible for an attack on topside and the theft of Jayce and Viktor’s newfangled hextech gemstone. A pink-haired brawler with a single letter tattooed clearly on her left cheekbone: V. Her presence made for a tangled ribbon on the top of this cruelly ironic situation.
Salvageable, though. This was a way for Caitlyn to get information from her that might otherwise be impossible from behind the bars of Stillwater after her arrest. That gem was out there somewhere, and this might be her only chance to find out where. If not that, to at least keep her busy while Powder looked into her own lead.
“Matilda, was it?” V shouldered her way past the curtains -- hopefully somewhat soundproofed -- and took a seat on the sofa immediately at Caitlyn’s right. With no fanfare, no hesitation, she draped her brassy chemtech arm across Caitlyn’s shoulder and, despite their slight disparity in heights and the nature of its material, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Except for the fact that V was wanted for theft and murder. There was still that. “I can’t say I recognize you. You new here?”
“Yes, very.” Caitlyn didn’t have to act for that line. Not a mite.
“Explains the nerves. No need to be so tense. I’m sure the others have told you all about me. Name’s V. Not short for anything, so don’t ask.”
A beat passed before Caitlyn realized a response was expected of her. She had multiple layers of nerves to work through, the last of which being that V was, in fact, incredibly attractive, with her lip scar and well-defined jaw and her-- “Ah. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Matilda. Which I now realize I already told you. Sorry.”
“Hey, it’s okay. I won’t bite unless you ask.” Metal fingers landscaped gentle grooves in Caitlyn’s hair, back and forth at a hypnotizing pace. “Though if I did, I’m sure you’d taste sweet. Like a cupcake.”
“I’ve been told,” Caitlyn lied. Bold-faced, but she was on a mission. “But the others only told me so much about you. Who is this mystery girl with pink hair and a thing for sweets? Surely there’s more to you.”
“I’m an open book, cupcake. Anything to hear that cute voice of yours.”
Bingo. But better to go along with it, right? I have to play the part or she’ll get suspicious.
And so Caitlyn found herself doing something utterly ridiculous, so alien to her body after being an enforcer for so long: One long leg swung over the other until she was straddling V, ass on her haunches to keep from overemphasizing their difference in height. V’s metal hand remained intertwined with the straight strands of her hair, though her other hand made a bolder move by snaking underneath the hem of Caitlyn’s coat to rest just above her hip.
Remarkably calm from seemingly nowhere, Caitlyn continued regardless. “What gets Silco’s right-hand bruiser going? Treating you well means getting on his good side, right?”
“Oh sheesh, my old man? He couldn’t care less about who I’m fucking. If you want shimmer out of this, you’d be better off riding someone else.”
There’s a few morsels of info already. Keep it going. Play the part.
“None for me, thanks. Not what I had in mind.” Even Caitlyn was astonished at the words from her own lips, fully aware that her acting skills usually lacked any form of refinement. It was partially for that reason that she was never selected for undercover missions. But here, somehow, it worked. She attributed it to the urgency of her situation and not the fact that she was in the lap of an obscenely attractive woman. No connection there. None. “I was thinking more about protection. With the commotion topside, I’m sure enforcers will be around in droves. Think you could do anything to help with that?”
“For you, Cupcake? I could consider it.” A metal hand cradled Caitlyn’s chin. “You alright with kissing? I know some of you prefer not to.”
Caitlyn ignored the implications that V was actually a considerate human being. “I’m amenable.”
Against all academy training, against common sense, Caitlyn didn’t resist as V guided her head lower. She didn’t resist as their lips met, and she certainly didn’t stop herself upon the discovery that V was an immaculate kisser. V kissed as though she had all the time in the world to indulge. She kissed and Caitlyn felt that scar on V’s lip, the hoop in her nostril, both hands at her back, and every bit of V against her was electrifying. Didn’t help that those damn grey eyes of hers were so probing and soulful when they broke apart to take stock of that good post-first-kiss “where to next?” vibe.
It was good enough that Caitlyn decided to toss her moral compass aside for a moment. It had been a long time since she’d been laid; enforcer training and work had driven a stake in her already lacking free time and hammered it down for good measure. There was no telling when she’d find herself straddling another opportunity like this. Especially not with someone who possessed every intuition on where to take her.
Yeah, fuck it.
Caitlyn brought her fingers to the now seemingly manifold buckles at the corset on her waist when V’s hand -- the flesh and bone one, for gentleness -- clasped around her wrist with every tenderness in the world.
“Allow me,” she murmured, and promptly kept the momentum. The replacement arm had apparently not affected her alacrity whatsoever, as V made quick work of all the latches and buttons before Caitlyn could take more than a second to admire the naked awe in her eyes. Now with that coat shed, Caitlyn wore a tight white shirt that, she had to begrudgingly admit for something “borrowed,” did a damn good job at showcasing her figure.
V’s hands wasted no time untucking the hem from under the accompanying stolen pants, then yanked it and her bra overhead.
Before V could do much more than admire, Caitlyn pressed V back by the collarbone. “I feel woefully underdressed in comparison. That bears correction, in my opinion.”
V lounged back like she owned the place, like even now she was in total command. It made Caitlyn want to turn the tables. “Whatever you say, cupcake.”
Her coat, thankfully, was far less complex, as though made for easy multitasking. As Caitlyn slipped the garment off of V’s shoulders, she pecked kisses in a constellation down V’s lips, the hollow of her throat -- not without marking her neck with a fresh purple blotch of a bruise. Maybe she’d regret leaving proof of their dalliance, but that was a problem for future non-horny Caitlyn. Still, she continued to V’s collarbones, then over to newly exposed crook of shoulders, where Caitlyn had a fresh opportunity to admire the muscular definition of her biceps. It made far more sense to her then how V had landed herself in Silco’s inner circle.
Before more enforcer thoughts could sprout, Caitlyn’s digits had started bringing that sleeveless hoodie over V’s head. For good measure, she consciously -- consciously -- tucked her fingers under the band of the bandeau she sensed by touch. It left palpable surprise in V’s wide grey eyes as all the fabric was slumped elsewhere, and Caitlyn drank in her reaction like an oasis in the desert that had been her recent sex life. (Namely, none.)
She ducked her head lower, planted more kisses at V’s sternum, then to her left breast, where Caitlyn could swear she could hear the excitement build in V’s heartbeat. First one teasing kiss above the perfect pink mound of V’s areola, then another directly on the stiff nipple itself, just enough to elicit a grumble of impatience from V’s throat. Only then did Caitlyn finally open her mouth and take V into her mouth. She lolled her tongue in leisurely circles before clamping her teeth on the mound with the perfect pressure for V’s fingers to tighten in her hair. It was intoxicating, but Caitlyn was, admittedly, just as hungry for this as V was.
Lower and lower, dismounting V’s hips, her lips not leaving V’s skin even as she encountered the roadblock of not-yet-shed pants, Caitlyn painted a direct trail to the juncture of V’s legs. She operated by feel, unbuckling the crooked belt, unbuttoning, then yanking the whole garment down to V’s ankles. She only loosely detected as her partner kicked the offending cloth aside; her attention was elsewhere. V’s boxer-briefs had a distinct damp patch right at the center, and she made no effort to mask as much.
“I talked a big game about tasting you but…” V swallowed to level her breathing. It didn’t work. “I’d be lying if I said I’m not already desperate for this now.”
“Is that really all it took?” Caitlyn’s breath fell heavily against that darkened spot at the center of V’s underwear, enough to already force out a moan. “And the others told me you preferred to take charge. What a surprise.”
Please let my assumption be an accurate one.
“Usually I--” and she tripped over her breath as Caitlyn pressed one thumb over her underwear, only one measly layer separating the pad of her finger from V’s clit.
With no warning, Caitlyn applied her tongue to the selfsame spot, darkening the cloth further. It tasted entirely of V, even with the intermediary.
“Please, please, Matilda.”
“I like it when you get desperate,” Matilda muttered, and slid V’s boxers down, and rubbed two lazy fingers along her entirely slicked folds. “Should I test how far I can push that?”
A glint of a challenge illuminated V’s eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”
Two fingers crooked inside V’s cunt, Caitlyn rose from her spot on her knees. She took a spot at V’s right and started pumping her fingers ever-so-slightly. “Then try I shall,” before sucking at V’s neck once more, leaving another reckless mark. The concept of V being branded as hers, if only for a time, a criminal reduced to jelly at her hands, it did more for her than she would ever care to admit.
V rewarded her efforts by crooning into her touch, bucking her hips in time with Cait’s thrusts, desperately chasing the scant friction her fingers afforded.
“You’re cruel.”
“What happened to me being a cupcake, hm?”
“After this, I’m starting to feel you might not be so sweet.”
“And will that stop you from sampling a taste?” Caitlyn probed as she twisted her fingers inside V, right against a spot that made her tense all of those glorious, glorious muscles.
“God, fuck no it won’t,” the words left V’s mouth without enunciation as she laid her head into Caitlyn’s flesh. “Please, I’m so close, please.”
“How am I supposed to deny a request like that?” She leaned closer to V’s ear to whisper, “come for me, then.”
And she did, stoically quiet at first, though she gave in and mewled. Caitlyn almost felt for a moment that V’s clenching could tear her fingers off. With musculature like that, now glistening with perspiration and glowing with hormones, Caitlyn couldn’t keep herself from admiring everything about her for a moment as she heaved breaths to calm her heart.
“Still want a taste?”
“Yes, please.”
So Caitlyn rose once more, relishing how she towered over V. She’d been nice earlier, tried to keep V from feeling small, but now she’d gotten the gist that maybe, every so often, that’s what she must’ve wanted from time to time.
“Help me get these off, then.”
Those boots were a bitch to get on the first time, and just as much the other direction. Buckles, zippers, they were a mess. It didn’t help that V’s fingers fumbled in a stark one-eighty from her dexterity earlier. Hopefully the trend didn’t follow to her tongue as well.
The boots fell to the wayside, joined only seconds after by Caitlyn’s pants.
“Much better.” She weaved her fingers into V’s head and forced her back to lay on the couch, immediately followed by her thighs finding a new favorite place next to V’s ears. “Time for dessert.”
V wasted no time meeting her halfway. Her enthusiasm kept her from holding back at all, lapping at Caitlyn’s clit with abandon. It was instant velvety relief. Her tongue moved as though she could read Caitlyn’s mind, following the perfect patterns that she noted for future masturbation sessions when she would recall this memory with as crystal of a clarity as her mind could conjure. V underneath her, starving to offer Caitlyn the release she deserved. Caitlyn’s fingers in her hair with a grip bordering on cruel, just enough to summon water in those desperate eyes.
Then V hooked her arms around Caitlyn’s waist and forced her down fully to grind against her tongue and lips and chin and make a complete and total mess of her.
That’s what tipped her over. Those grey eyes, full of want. It had her hunching to take what she wanted, to press herself downward onto V’s skilled tongue as she soaked in all of those sensations and moaned openly. It was a brothel, she didn’t have to worry about that being out of place.
They needed a moment to recover after all that.
…
By the time Caitlyn had tugged on her pants and boots, V was already fully dressed and hanging halfway in the room’s curtains.
She straightened her coat, smug despite their prior dynamic. “You might be my new favorite already.”
“Oh, you must say that to everyone here.” Still just as much of a pain in the ass to straighten the damn shoes out.
“I’m nothing if not honest,” she said while assessing the functionality of her left arm. “Hey, if you’re ever back in Zaun, you know I’ll be back here eventually.”
Caitlyn tilted her head. She kept the facade so well this whole time. “Wait, what do you mean ‘back in Zaun’?”
“You’re a pretty good lay for an enforcer, you know. Ciao.” And with that, V ducked out of the curtain and vanished.
When Caitlyn, still topless, peeked her head out, V had already disappeared entirely. She saved herself the trouble of whether or not to chase V down through the streets of Zaun with her tits still wholly on display. No, she would be able to track her down later. She shrugged on her clothes, struggled through getting them back on once more, then left to find Powder.
…
Powder, as always, had energy to spare as she explained her progress and learnings. She spoke without punctuation, without breath, without a break. Usually.
“So the owner told me Silco’s second in command is a regular and--” she halted. Then she tilted her head and poked Caitlyn’s upper arm as a grin crooked her lips. The spot in particular was tender.
It was a hickey, likely left there while V was trying (and failing) to stay mostly quiet when she came on Caitlyn’s fingers.
Powder nudged her with her elbow and a smirk. “I didn’t think you’d actually go through with anything, you sly minx, you. Well, who was the lucky punk?”
“Our target. I was trying to get info, then she vanished after.”
“She got aw-- wait, you fucked my sister?!” Powder gripped both of Caitlyn’s arms, frantic, “wait, my sister is Silco’s number two?!”
“V is your fucking sister?!”
They screamed in each other’s faces. There’d be a lot to sort through later. Caitlyn didn’t regret it.