cherry-coffees

[cherry-coffees]

Loved salt water dreams! Really atmospheric and sweet. Also love some appreciation for Gold Rush such an under appreciated song! (Although I was worried as gold rush is a bittersweet song) but I loved how peaceful your writing is thank you for sharing

Thank you sm my anon!!! I loooove gold rush; I went more for the peaceful, coastal love vibes rather than the angsty part. I just couldn't help myself hehe

[cherry-coffees]

Love ur writing

thank you sm love <3

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might bring back Caitlyn x hyperfemme!reader because AHHHHH i love being hyperfemme

[cherry-coffees]

. . . you got (e)mail

caitlyn kiramman x fem! reader. office romance

when emails from a colleague become more. aka Caitlyn Kiramman has a crush on you & doesn't know how to flirt.

Subject: Paperwork Criteria Comment

Good morning,

I had some time to look over your submitted paperwork. Unfortunately, I do not think it meets company criteria. See my notes, and we will re-evaluate. 

Regards, Caitlyn Kiramman

Fuck Caitlyn Kiramman. You had spent all night making sure that paperwork was up to par – see her notes? God, how the fuck did she have time to do her own paperwork, and then find time to nitpick your paperwork. You had not had enough coffee to deal with the heir of the Kiramman business.

Caitlyn had joined the company a couple months ago, some bullshit about working her way up from the bottom as if her last name was not plastered on the side of the building. Though, you did feel for the girl. She was trying, at least. The emails made the empathy harder. And they were, for some reason, only directed at you.

Subject: Re: Paperwork Criteria Comment

Dear Caitlyn Kiramman,

Fuck you. Literally and Figuratively.

Warm Regards.

You had meant to backspace. Instead, you're met with the ever-familiar whoosh! sound of an email sending. Fuck. 3 googles searches later, and you learn that emails cannot be deleted. And you probably were going to be fired for your email cursing at the boss's daughter. 

Which is how you find yourself, at Caitlyn’s desk, praying she had not opened her email yet. While you wait, you wonder if you should have brought something for her; maybe she liked cupcakes? All you had to offer was the granola bar, ungraciously squished in the bottom of your bag. Fuck.

Heels click against the floor, and the clouds around your head seem to disappear as your eyes meet hers. Her eyebrow raises slightly, before she speaks, “What’re you doing here?” she asks, and she sounds confused; which makes sense, it's not as though people were lining up to talk to the boss’s daughter. Actually, nobody had lined up.

“Hi Caitlyn,” you greet, and then wince at your inability to be nonchalant. “I don’t know if we’ve met before, I’m–,” you start, and she cuts you off. Okay, Great. 

“I know who you are,” she says, before realizing that she had cut you off, murmuring a quick, “Sorry for interrupting. I’ve seen you around,” she says, as if she hasn’t been sending you nitpicky emails spanning over the last couple months. 

“Oh.” you falter, before nodding, trying not to get deterred. “Oh, okay well I was wondering if you had a chance to check your email because I sent you something by accident and it looks really bad, but I swear that's not what I meant–,” you ramble, as she takes out her phone and opens her email. Fuck. Maybe she would get really chill for the first time ever. 

Her lips quirk up at the email. Maybe she thought it was funny. You hoped so. The job market was brutal. “So you don’t want to fuck me literally or figuratively?” she asks, and your face turns to one of mortification fairly quickly. And she laughs– Actually full-on laughs. You had emailed her a bunch of curse words, and here she was, laughing. 

You look, somehow, even more appalled, as manicured nails reach for the water on her desk, taking a sip after her laughter quells. “I’m sorry– it’s not funny.” she murmurs, and somehow the way her accent wraps around the words make the crudeness of your email sound polished. “It’s alright. I’m sure the emails must be irritating, in their own capacity. I’m sorry,” she apologies, and you blink at her; was this a dream? The Caitlyn Kiramman, apologizing to you? You tried not to pay attention to the lilt of her voice, and the way her accent curled around her words. God, she was so posh.

“No! It’s okay– they aren’t that bad. Just frustrating sometimes,” you admit, and the way she looks at you doesn’t seem judgemental or angry – she seems to revel in your presence. You realize, with a slight pang in your heart, guilt maybe, this was probably the most Caitlyn had actually spoken with a co-worker in the year and a half she’d been working here. “Uh– where’d you go for lunch? I’ve been looking for new places,” you throw out, and the smile that she tries to push down is unmistakable. God, she was cute. 

Which is how you find yourself, slowly becoming friends with Caitlyn. The shift is gradual, of course, granted your email, but she seemed to find you amusing. And you enjoyed the reserved smiles that seemed to become a commonality in your presence. First she takes you out to some cafe; hidden away in the bustling street, and the servers seem to know (and adore) her. It was scrappy, but the food was some of the best you’d ever had, and the company might have been better. 

The real Caitlyn was nothing close to what you imagined; she was witty and incredibly sharp, and her laughter was elegant, but she was also kind. The way she would look over your reports – the comments weren’t meant to be nitpicky, they were meant to help you grow. The way she would lend a hand to co-workers who were known for demeaning her position in the company – (nepotism, they called it. You knew better.) The way she seemed delighted to have a friend who was a co-worker; the coffees on your desk before an early meeting, lunches together. You had invited her out to a bar once, after work; she was thrilled, in her own unspoken way. You also learned that Caitlyn couldn’t handle her alcohol. She learned that you did not consider her emails thoughtful flirting. 

So she shifted her approach. The emails were consistent, but they were accompanied by invitations to get dinner together after work. Dinner at very exclusive hard-to-get-into places, which she had no problem getting either of you into. She didn’t correct the hostess when she referred to the two of you as “Mrs. & Mrs. Kiramman.” Neither did you.

Subject: Overtime Query 

Greetings, 

I noticed that you were planning to stay overtime to review your presentation. Coincidentally, as am I, and I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner together afterwards. I have a reservation at 7 o’ clock for 2. I look forward to seeing you. 

Warm Regards,

Caitlyn Kiramman

Dinner that had spiraled into her tongue on you, and somehow she had more skills past her flawless grammar and pristine work ethic. “I have no interest in casual. You’re mine. Obviously,” she had said, after the 4th or 5th time together. Which is how you found yourself arriving to work with Caitlyn. People had muttered, and started; you were sure your names had been thrown around by the watercooler. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care when her manicured hands had curled into yours as you walked to the parking lot.

Today had been a particularly trying day, long meetings and not enough sleep (Caitlyn had returned from a business trip of 3 days, and had taken it upon herself to prove how much she missed you. You already knew how much she missed you. She sent you 12 emails. You didn’t protest.) 

“Can you grab me some coffee too—” you begin, looking up as you hear the unmistakable sounds of her heels – Louboutins today – as she approaches your desk , and she cuts you off as she places the warm cup onto your desk.

 “Already did. Just the way you like it.” is all she mutters, and your lips quirk upwards at the way her ears redden.

“Careful Kiramman, I might think you like me,” you tease.

Subject: I know you didn’t eat lunch.

Meet in my office in 15? I brought food for you. 

Love,

Caitlyn Kiramman

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Caitlyn definitely gets super cold at night. She runs colder, and she used to pile extra blankets and pillows on her bed to keep her warmer during colder nights.

Now that she has you? She clings to you in her sleep, naturally gravitating towards your warmth even in her subconscious state.

When it's cold in the mornings, she delays getting out of bed, even as the light streaming through her curtains indicates that the day has started. You look at her, all sleepy-eyed in the early morning hours. "Don't you have any early meeting?"

"Five more minutes," Caitlyn mumbles, nosing her face into the warmth of your neck. Her legs twine with yours under her silken sheets. "Too cold. The Noxians can wait."

[cherry-coffees]

how have I never written Caitlyn as a mom WHAT???

[cherry-coffees]

Saltwater Dreams — Caitlyn x reader

Summary: Caitlyn asks you to spend the weekend with her at her family's cabin by the sea. Between salty kisses and sun-kissed skin, you wonder if your greatest desire is a life with her: a life just like this.

cw: 800 words | sfw, implied post-s2 act3, mutual pining, kissing, established relationship, more of rich gf!Caitlyn

Piltover’s seaside has the clearest water you’ve ever seen.

The thought occurs to you as you leave the stretch of white sand on the beach, favoring the coolness shimmering water. Waves lap gently around you, reflecting the light of the beaming sun overhead. It’s the perfect summer day: warm without being too hot, paired with a gentle breeze that makes the palm trees sway. You take it all in, closing your eyes to breathe in the fresh air when— 

Splash!

“Caitlyn!” You shriek, drenched from head to toe in salt water. You rub your eyes to clear them, turning to glare at your girlfriend. "What the hell?"

"What?" Caitlyn blinks her eyes, the shade of blue matching that of the ocean. "I didn't do anything, darling. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, you—!" You fume. "I wasn't planning to wash my hair tonight!"

"Well," Caitlyn pretends to consider this, stepping across the soft sand near you. "I guess if you're already wet, it means I can just—"

"No!" 

But it's too late.

Caitlyn practically tackles you, her 6'1" stature effectively knocking you off your feet and into the sea. She follows, equally submerged in the waves. Though, as mischievous as she can be, she doesn't let go of you. She never does. 

You breach the surface of the water, inhaling the fresh air deep in your lungs. You can't reach the bottom now, having strayed too far in, but Caitlyn's height allows her to comfortably stand. She holds you in her arms so you're face to face above the water, droplets of salt sliding from your wet hair down your cheeks.

"You're annoying," you shake your head, but you can't find it in yourself to be mad. Not when Caitlyn looks so beautiful like this: navy hair turned black from the water and comforting arms drawn around you like she's your life raft. 

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? 

"You like it," Caitlyn murmurs, all in posh accent. She's unhurried with her movements, like life has slowed down to allow you this peaceful weekend up at her family's cabin by the sea. Another thing her mother had bought just because she could, she had told you while convincing you to spend the weekend with her. 

Being with her like this makes dangerous thoughts swirl around your mind. The kind of thoughts that question: is this what it would it would be like if we were married someday? This life together?

You're brought out of your own world by said girlfriend. Caitlyn kisses you in an instant, her lips tasting of salt and sunshine. When your hand comes up to caress her cheek, you can feel the coolness of the water lingering on her skin. You smile, unable to help the suppressed laugh that slips through your lips. Caitlyn smiles in return, drawing back to gaze at you. "What's funny?"

"Nothing." You brush back the wet strands of hair from her face. "Nothing at all."

It feels like a dream: this weekend with Caitlyn. The coastal town you're staying at is perfection. Days are filled with sand-covered towels, sticky fingers from saltwater taffy, photos taken of golden beach sunsets. Nights are filled with bonfires that go into the early hours of the morning, gentle music playing as ambiance to your conversations. 

On the cold nights, you curl up in Caitlyn's sweatshirts, contented by the scent of her that's embedded into the soft fabric. Caitlyn draws a blanket over you, and the two of you skewer marshmallows on sticks to roast over the fire. You debate what the perfect amount of golden-brown is on a marshmallow because, of course, Caitlyn insists that she knows the best ratio (she doesn't). 

Caitlyn doesn't have to burden the duties of Piltover, and you don't have to worry about the responsibilities of your life. Your biggest concern is where you should go out to dinner tonight, and if your swimsuit will dry in time to swim again tomorrow. You've never felt more content, and when you glance at Caitlyn's eased features, you can sense how peaceful she feels.

Now, though, Caitlyn presses another salty kiss to your forehead. "Should we go inside before we get sunburned, darling?" she questions, and promptly takes your hand to lead you out of the water. 

A few minutes later, you're walking up the path to Caitlyn's cabin, carrying your towel and a few pretty seashells you had found in the water. You wrap your arm around Caitlyn's waist as your sandals click against the path, hugging her close to you. "I never want this to end."

"Oh, sweetheart," Caitlyn soothes. She shifts her beach bag higher on her shoulder so she can wrap an arm around your shoulders in return. "Don't worry your pretty little head. We have the rest of our lives to come back whenever we'd like." 

And you don't. Because when the sun sets and the day is done, you can hear the waves crashing against the beach from the cabin, letting the noise quiet you to sleep in Caitlyn's warm embrace. 

Hiii lovelies!! I missed giving you writing in the past week~

This is inspired by Taylor Swift's "gold rush" — including a certain line I used. I highly encourage you to listen!! It's such a dreamy coastal song.

I hope everyone is having a beautiful week! Sending lots of love <3

~Cherry 🍒

[cherry-coffees]

Girl I love your cat!caitlyn works makes my heart fuzzy and warm!

Thank you sweetie!!! I've gotten so many requests for more cat!Caitlyn that I'm going to do MORE of her hehe

(I'm not sure what that'll be yet so feel free to drop ideas in the comments or my inbox)

[cherry-coffees]

sometimes i'll get the most heartfelt compliments and i can't even believe it like 😞 i'm literally just a 19 y/o girl who sits in my bedroom wearing pink loungewear and writing about Caitlyn Kiramman wdym??

[cherry-coffees]

have u posted the we can't be friends inspired fic yet?

I haven't!! I've been writing shorter drabbles lately so I can give you guys more content! The "we can't be friends" fic is going to be a longer fic, so it's taking me a little longer to write.

Also I'm at a crossroad and I'm not settled on the plot entirely

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my personal hc is that i don’t think either caitlyn nor vi can cook and that’s why they need you to be their housewife that they can spoon while you cook dinner and lift up your adorable little apron to pull your panties aside so the both of them fuck you against the kitchen counter as you stretch wide around two cocks hips hot and flush against linoleum

[cherry-coffees]

Fitting Rooms — pervy!Caitlyn x reader

Summary: You ask your best friend to come shopping with you, knowing that Caitlyn has always had an eye for fashion. What you don't know, however, is that Caitlyn's intentions are far from friendly.

cw: 600 words | 18+ mdni, pervy!Caitlyn, she looks and thinks, but doesn't touch bc she wouldn't want to force anything on you, lowkey pining too, she really likes you

Caitlyn knows she's supposed to be your best friend.

Key phrase: supposed to be.

Caitlyn should, as your best friend, be supporting you. She should be laughing with you, talking with you, going to cute cafés and taking photos. She should have the best intentions with you — and, to be fair, she does.

She’s just a little secretive about them.

Caitlyn’s been eyeing you for years now. Your curves, your hips, the unmarked skin of your neck — gods, it makes her mouth water. She wants to be the one leaving love bites dotted across your skin, caressing your curves and pinning your hips down underneath her. She wonders, as she lays in bed at night, if you’d let her ruin you. Eating you out, tying you up, strapping you down — she doesn’t care. She’d let you strap her down, too, if it’s your preference. Anything to get you in her arms.

She wants you. She craves your touch and warmth more than anything in the world. Thus, she’ll do anything to get it. 

Caitlyn’s respectful, of course, she’d never do anything without your consent. That being said, she can’t blame herself for admiring you. Like, when the two of you are out shopping in Piltover one day, picking out items you’d look so lovely in. Caitlyn always comes with you, always takes you to high end shops that she pays for with a swipe of her card. Whether you want a lip tint to gloss the lips that Caitlyn so desperately wants to kiss or a stylish pair of jeans: it's yours. So when you pick out a particularly showy top, Caitlyn immediately perks up at the thought of seeing you in it. “The color would look lovely on you,” Caitlyn claims, accented tone disguising the desire in her voice.

When you come out of your dressing room, adorning the lacy top that she had so admired, Caitlyn practically preens. She tries to avert her eyes until you look at yourself in the mirror, and only then does she let her gaze dip down to trace the curves of your breasts. Had you even worn a bra with this? She wonders, biting her tongue so that no sounds escape to give away her wandering eyes. The more important question being:

Gods, has she ever wanted anyone like this?

“Ah—“ Caitlyn leaves her chair, crossing to you in a few strides. She’s tunnel-visioned: only seeing the barely-covered skin of your back. All her mind can tell her is touch, and she can't resist any longer. She slips her hands under the lace to trace along your back, pretending to reach for the tag to pull it out of the top. “Let me adjust the tag for you.”

(The tag is already pulled out, but you don’t need to know that).

You turn, chorusing a thank you and already stepping back toward your dressing room to try on a few more items. That is, until Caitlyn calls out after you, holding up a sweater she had seemingly pulled out of nowhere.”

“Do you mind if I join you?” She asks, icy eyes betraying no hint of her real motivation. “I want to try this on, but all the other dressing rooms are full.”

“Of course!” You nod, flashing her a smile. She’s your best friend, after all, so you hold the door for her as the two of you disappear into the fitting room. 

You don’t notice Caitlyn’s smug little smile as she follows behind you, eyeing your thighs (oh, what she'd like to do to those thighs) exposed by the swish of your skirt. Nor do you notice how she eyes you up when you bend down to grab your phone from the dressing room floor, taking in the sight of your exposed panties.

Or maybe you do.

You guys wanted pervy!Caitlyn so here she is!

I really believe that Caitlyn is very respectful, and I wanted to stay true to her character, so I didn't want to put any noncon in (also, I'm not comfortable writing noncon as per my request rules). But I do think she'd look and lust and have some pervy thoughts about you sooo... this is what I think would go through her mind.

Hope you guys enjoyed and you're all safe and healthy! Sending much love <3

~Cherry 🍒

[cherry-coffees]

when i dress hyperfemme and almost get kidnapped in a chipotle parking lot 💔

[cherry-coffees]

I'm on a cowgirl!Vi kick and I REALLY want to write cowgirl!Caitvi but I cannot picture Caitlyn as a cowgirl at all. it's so far from her character guys, idk if it's gonna happen unless I come up with something revolutionary </3

[cherry-coffees]

the girl who made me realize i like women btw

[cherry-coffees]

ovulation.

that's it, that's all I have to say.

[cherry-coffees]

saw u studied existentialism and it is so interesting to me—the idea of radical freedom and the idea that we are, at its core, responsible for our own individual lives. which is weirdly terrifying if you really think about it. we’re fully responsible for ourselves even tho we didn’t make ourselves..yeeouchhh. plus, sartre is just absolutely dunking on determinism😭😭 but i lowk like determinism too icl…..

anyways!!! turnin this into an absolute YAP sesh. cherry yaps but its js anon yaps😨😨😨 but i would like to have an emoji since u posted abt it BOOYAHH!!! time is very dear to me

-⏰

My inner philosophy nerd is coming out...

Some of Sartre's ideas are so valid. When he wrote during ww2, he talked about how free will contributes to societal issues and class conflict (crossover with Marxism), but he also said that humans will never be able to understand war until it becomes impossible. Also, I completely agree with the concept of "bad faith" bc people really do just want to escape accountability and the weight of their free will, so they'll blame anyone/anything else for their own actions. More simply, they want to do whatever without taking responsibility for the consequences. I agree with that fs. I actually did a whole presentation on bad faith in high school hehe