north

Luckily, rather than be annoyed at your flirting, the woman raises an amused eyebrow at you.

“If I buy you a drink, will you tell me where he is?”

You pretend to think for a moment.

“Hmm… maybe.”

She laughs, one that comes deep from her diaphragm, “what do I have to do for you to tell me?”

At that you saunter up closer to her, your face inches away from hers.

“Well… there is one thing,” you say coyly as you traced the intricate pattern of the badge on her chest. Her gaze flicks to your hand, then your eyes, intrigued.

“A kiss.”

She chuckles, “you’re young enough to be my daughter, little girl. Besides, you don’t want to kiss an old woman like me.”

You gasp, fake shocked, “You are not old!”

Both of your arms wrap around her neck and she startles slightly at the sudden movement.

“Besides,” you’re grinning impossibly wide, “I like what I see.”

That’s how you end up in the alley next to the bar, being fucked into the wall by this woman, named Grayson as you’ll learn later. Her fingers feel nice against your clit and her gravelly voice murmuring into your ear sends steady pulses up and down your spine. Grayson is experienced, reserved, she kisses you with the patience of a saint. You kiss back with all the reverence of one.

After you two are done, you tell her you don’t know where Vander is. She groans.

Ambessa & Maddie.

“Again.”

Maddie cries out, trying to writhe out of your grip. You’ve lost track of how many times she’s come already, four or five? Six even? As you bring your dominant hand down on her clit once more, Maddie jerks, letting a high pitched keen out of her mouth. Ambessa, you think, is a cruel, cruel woman.

“Now, now, child,” The General tuts, “there is no need for that. I’ve taught you better.”

At Ambessa's words, Maddie seems to cry harder, clearly overstimulated and struggling not to break apart in your arms. You almost feel bad, if she didn’t wring five good orgasms out of you earlier at Ambessa’s command.

With a curl of your fingers, you enter Maddie’s soaked cunt. You start out slowly, massaging at her walls, teasing her. She groans, but even she knows that this is the calm before the storm.

“Faster.”

What Ambessa Medarda demands, Ambessa Medarda gets. You go faster, rubbing at her upper walls and g-spot with much more force and speed than before. The thumb on your opposite hand teases at the hole below her cunt, which makes her clench around your fingers tightly.

A low, pathetic “unf,” is the only warning noise Maddie makes before she comes, squirts, over your front. It surprises you, but it's not unwelcome. She bucks, trying to get away from your fingers or to follow your thrusts, you don’t know. Maddie starts shaking uncontrollably when you don’t stop, because Ambessa hasn’t ordered that of you yet. When her wails get ear piercingly loud, Ambessa halts your ministrations.

“Good.”

Is all Ambessa says before she takes your mouth into hers. The warlord kisses like she’s running out of time, like she has to devour you whole with her lips and teeth this minute or else she’ll die in the next. It’s surprisingly desperate, but still dominant. The feeling makes you weak in the knees.

Ambessa hums when she pulls away, satisfied. 

—

(“I fucking hate this ginger hair.” Maddie groaned as she tugged at short strands of hair.

You laugh at her, “why didn’t you dye it blonde or something?”

“I tried! It turned ginger!”

“Pfft,” you start, tickled at her confession, “that haircut isn’t doing you any favors either,”

“You know what — fuck you.”)

Mel & Elora.

Mel Medarda was an odd woman, you thought to yourself as you scratched your nails down the expansion of Elora’s back. You delighted in the assistant’s hiss at the sensation. Though, you supposed it wasn’t too surprising for a politician to have odd kinks.

The woman sat daintily in a plush chair in the corner of her bedroom, nursing a glass of Noxian red. She had her legs up under her, uncaring like the scene in front of her was just another casual Friday. You scowled.

Elora moaned as you thrust your strap-on up into her particularly harshly. You were a bit annoyed at Councilor Medarda, at her non-reactions and indifference. You don’t know why you were so vexed at the woman, it was completely irrational, all you had to do was fuck her cute little assistant silly while she watched. It was an easy job.

(You wanted her to join, to ravage Elora with you. Oh, well. If she liked watching, then a show you would give her.)

You bent Elora over so that she was head down, ass up on the bed. One hand tangled in her usually neat hair while the other steadied your balance as you leaned your weight against her and continued thrusting. Elora whimpered at the way your cock rubbed against the walls of her cunt. In the corner of your eye, you can see that a particularly high squeal from her assistant had caught Councilor Medarda’s attention.

Good. She’s really watching now.

You use the last bit of your strength to flip Elora over on her back — she mewls at the movement. Your dominant hand reaches for her swollen clit as you mash your mouths together in a sloppy kiss. Elora’s usually a better kisser this, but you'll give her a pass, your dick is inside her is surely scrambling her brain into a fine paste.

You smile at how her mouth goes slack when she comes, hard. She’s still recovering when you hear gentle footsteps coming toward you. Councilor Medarda stops at the edge of the bed, staring holes right into your face.

“Good?”

Mel brings her pointer and middle finger to the underside of your chin and lifts them up so that you’re looking directly up at her. She leans in and gives you the softest kiss of your life. Mel smells like florals, roses, and tastes like vanilla and black raspberries. She’s delicious and you bring your own hand up to her face to deepen the kiss, but she pulls away, leaving you reeling. Mel smiles at you affectionately. 

“Very good.”

Cassandra.

You snaked your hands through Cassandra’s salt and pepper hair and yanked. The older woman squeaked indignantly, both surprised and slightly incensed at the rough treatment, but not exactly angry enough to not want you to do it again.

“I bet Tobias doesn’t kiss you like this,” you smirk, needling the older woman was your favorite part of being with her, “he doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?”

Cassandra’s eyes widen at the mention of him. Maybe she’s finally realized just how fucked up her arrangement with you is.

(Maybe she wants to leave everything behind and lick at your high heels forever. You could live with that.)

“Don’t you dare talk about—” She snarled, irate. 

Your hand, as fast as a viper and just as vicious, cuts her off with a curl of your fingers around her throat.

“You don’t get to talk back to me, girl.”

Cassandra’s heart pounds deliciously underneath your palm. You can feel her squirm at the degrading pet name — she’s twenty years your senior and not a trembling inexperienced girl by any account, but in your bed, for the night, she’ll be one, for you.

You press your mouth to hers. Cassandra even kisses like a damn politician. Selfish, slow, and languid, like she has all the time in the world. You almost always lead — perhaps her position on the council has her needing to give up that control just for a moment, even if it is to you. You bite at her thin bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and she moans into your mouth. You smile, how good Cassandra was for you.

(Her sudden death had you trembling in your bed for a week.)

Caitlyn.

It wasn’t all that uncommon for those in Topside to come down to Zaun for a taste of the cuisine. For a peoples so uppity, they loved the desperateness that existed in the Under City, the depravity that was born from it.

Caitlyn Kiramman was just like any other pretentious, rebellious daughter of rich parents in that regard. 

She’s lucky she met you first and not someone else because anyone with working eyesight could have recognized that she was Caitlyn Kiramman and robbed her blind. You probably don’t even need working eyesight though, since her accent was so damn distinct.

The first time you two meet, she asks you about life here. How it was like to be born here, to have lived here all this time. You shrug, you were still young and dumb and had no life experience, this was all you’ve known — you can’t compare it to anything else.

You ask her about life in Topside. How it was like to be born there, to have lived there all this time. She had pursed her lips and looked around, saying nothing.

She didn’t have to say anything. The silence spoke the words she didn’t.

One night, she asks you:

“Do you ever want to leave here?”

You tilt your head, contemplating with your knees drawn up to your chest. 

“Where would I go?”

Caitlyn looks at you with a pity in her eyes that you cannot stand.

“Anywhere.”

You look away with clenched fists and jaw.

“I hear Ionia’s nice.”

Caitlyn smiles at you, you see it in the corner of your eyes. You can’t stay mad at her for too long, she’s endearing to you like how a kitten would be. You grin back at her.

Suddenly, the other girl closes the distance between you two and smacks her lips onto yours. She’s inexperienced, doesn’t know how to move her lips or where to put her tongue, but the kiss excites you nonetheless. It’s chaste, exploratory, and full of a puppy love that makes your heart ache. 

When you two pull back you’re both blushing madly. Caitlyn stumbles over her words trying to apologize, to take back what she had just done.

All you do have to do is place your hand on top of her pale ones, and she calms.

(As Caitlyn and you grow older, she visits less and less. She’s busy, you’re busy, it’s understandable. You haven't met with her for a very long time when you see her use The Grey in Zaun. Your heart aches.)

Jinx.

Everyone tells you to avoid the blue haired girl who hangs around The Last Drop. She’s crazy, they say, she’ll kill you, they say.

You think she’s pretty endearing.

You were the one that came up to her first. She was in the bar, sitting at a booth and writing formulas and doodling what you’re sure were engineering marvels if you knew anything about building shit. You had asked to see what she was working on; she enthusiastically agreed.

From that day forward, whenever Jinx spots you in the bar or around town, she shows you her blueprints. She always tries to explain what she’s doing, and you want so desperately to understand, but you don’t have the brain for engineering and she is too smart to put what she means in simpler terms. But, you like the sound of her voice, so you listen anyway.

Today, she seems frustrated with something in her blueprints. No matter what she builds and how she builds it, the machine just doesn’t seem to cool well.

You hum as she complains, just content to listen. When you try to take a sip of water, Jinx gasps and you startle.

“What?” you look around, “did something happen?”

Without warning, Jinx places her hands on your shoulders and gives you a fat kiss on your mouth. Her lips are slightly chapped and the kiss is entirely unromantic and too short, but the feeling of her mouth on yours gives you butterflies anyway.

“You’re a genius! I’ll see you later!”

With that, she bounces away, presumably to work on her blueprint again.

You sigh, touching your bottom lip and watching Jinx skip away at an alarming speed. That girl will be the death of you.

Lest.

You don’t know what to make of Lest. You can’t read her very well, and you’re damn good at reading people. But, when you feel sharp nails teasing at the lips of your cunt, you decide that maybe you’re overthinking things. Lest’s hand trails up to press harshly at your clit, making you hiss. 

Your hand tugs at one of her fluffy ears, not enough to hurt, but enough to make Lest yelp.

“Behave.”

Lest grins at you deviously.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Your eyes close as you lean your back onto the concrete wall. The other woman wastes no time, she is on the ground, tugging down your skirt and lapping at your hole. You hum in satisfaction, a hand in her brown hair.

Lest, the cheeky thing, bites at your clit, just to provoke you before she makes you come. You growl in response.

“What did I just say?”

You tug harshly at her ears. The rough treatment makes her whine and you can see how hard she’s grinding herself on her hands.

“Oh?” you smirk, “You like that, huh?”

You push yourself harder onto Lest’s open mouth, trying not to pant, “If you behave, I’ll play with them a bit more, hmm?”

You think Lest tries to nod, but your thighs between her head and your hands on her ears prevent her from doing so. All she can do is lap at your pussy with a renewed vigor.

After you come, Lest brings herself back up to height. She kisses at you hungrily and without care, spreading your musk and juice all over your faces. She nips at the fat on your bottom lip and you run a tongue over both her canines, tasting yourself on her mouth. When you pull back, you’re half asleep in her arms.

“Didn’t know you were into that sort of thing, Lest.”

Lest blushes.

"Shut up."

Sevika.

Sevika’s your best friend. She gets a little overprotective over you, like all best friends do. She snarls at the thought the various women you’ve fucked for your job, like all best friends do. She looks at your tits, your fingers, your lips, all for a little too long, like all best friends do.

You’re Sevika’s best friend. Not that she really needs defending, but you yell at anyone who’s mean to her, like a good best friend. You get just a little catty with the women she brings over, like a good best friend. You look at her muscles, the gap in her teeth, her lips, all for a little too long, like a good best friend.

You two also flirt, like best friends. It’s a nice day, you and Sevika are hanging out in her messy as fuck apartment, having fun. You’re tipsy and she’s tipsy and everyone’s a little drunk. You can’t remember the night very well, but you had said something about wanting her to sit on your face. You remember how red she flushed at that comment and you had laughed real hard. Never one to not tease Sev, you closed your eyes and made exaggeratedly cartoonish kissy noises at her.

The next thing you knew, her lips were on yours. You had opened your eyes in shock for a moment, but quickly melted in the kiss. Sevika kissed like she loved you, like she wanted to do this forever ago. With a firm hand on your ass and your arms around her neck, she hauled you over to her bedroom and flung you on the bed with ease. 

You wake up with hickies in places you can’t reach and to a sheepish Sevika offering you water. Your smile is uncontained and bright as you bring her down to taste her lips again.

Bonus: Babette.

“You should eat.”

You whip your head around to see Babette by the doorway, holding a bowl of stew.

“I–” you try to argue, but a withering glare from her has you shutting your mouth. There’s no use challenging her, if she said you should eat, you were going to eat.

Babette sighs, “you need to take care of yourself, I’m not always going to be here to do that.”

You frown, “don’t say things like that.”

“It’s true,” she shrugs.

You take the stew from her hands and set it on your nightstand. You crouch down to hug her and she hugs back, just as tight. Babette places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Goodnight, sweetie.”

‎⊱ she starts it on a low setting and loves the way your hips move to meet the hand that’s thrusting the toy into you. it’s so fucking hot it has her grinding her own clothed crotch onto your thigh.

‎⊱ after your first orgasm, she turns it up higher. the second orgasm is intense and has you seeing stars. for the third, sevika turns it up the highest it can go.

‎⊱ this setting has you squealing and crying, trying to writhe out of her grip. she’s stronger than you, bigger than you by miles, you’re not escaping her.

‎⊱ “shhh, babygirl,” she will coo, kissing the fat tears on your cheeks away, “a couple more, for me. can do you that for me, darling?”

‎⊱ you will nod, whimpering and whining at the sensations that threaten to break you entirely.

‎⊱ she would smile, “good girl. my good girl.”

‎⊱ that would send you over the edge, the third orgasm hurts, it brings a unpleasant cramping to the area around your womb, and this has you really crying now. still, sevika does not relent on the toy on your cunt.

‎⊱ the pleasure is unbearable. it feels as though all the nerves in your clit has come alive and the grinding on your g-spot threatens to make you squirt. your thighs are shaking violently, sevika has to prop them open with her mech arm. the cool metal against your hot flesh feels even more overstimulating. this is what dying feels like.

‎⊱ the fourth orgasm is blinding. the pleasure is too much — you pass out, if only for a couple of seconds. you arise to the sensation of sevika kissing gently down the column of your throat.

‎⊱ “you did so good, baby.”

‎⊱ you hum, eyes closed. this was a good session.

You’re going insane. You get no sleep. She brings girls over every night and they’re always so damn loud when they’re going at it. You hate it. 

(“Oh Sevika!”

You’re on your stomach, biting into your pillow and trying to keep quiet as you rub furiously at your engorged clit. Unlike some people, you were considerate of the fact that your apartment had walls as thin as paper. Still, keeping quiet was difficult when your fingers felt so good against yourself.

“Fuck, you’re so big!”

You can’t help but whine at that. God, your mind drifts to Sevika, how insufferable she is and how deliciously her cock would fill you up. You’ve seen it, you work mornings and have seen the bulge she sports around in the early dawn when she’s half awake and still slightly hard from morning wood.

You think about how smug she would be, fucking you, how she could fold you in half and pound into you like you were meat and how you would thank her all the same. You think about how it would look to a third person, how her musclebound ass would clench with every thrust she makes into your cunt. You think about how you would come and whine for her to stop, saying it was too much and that you were too sensitive and how she would smirk and tell you that you could take more for her.

You think about Sevika, Sevika, Sevika. 

Your hips jerk sloppily to the rhythm of the fingers on your cunt. The noise it makes is delightfully sinful. You want Sevika to drink it all up, to tongue at it until you were writhing and screaming on her bed.

It isn’t long before you hear a moan that was louder than the rest and a low groan that definitely belonged to Sevika.

You come with them, your cunt squeezing and spasming against your hand. The orgasm has you struggling to breathe steadily as you flop onto your back. You’re too spent to get up to clean yourself, so you suck yourself off your fingers and wipe the spittle against your bedsheets. You let out a pleased sigh and fall headfirst into blissful sleep.

You can’t quite look Sevika in the eyes the next morning.)

You’re going insane. You’re annoyed all the time. She seemingly loves annoying the fuck of out of you because she teases you every time you walk out of your room. You’re trying to get used to it, the sexual innuendos (you always roll your eyes at those), the size jokes, (you’re really not that small, she’s just well built, alright?), and the fucking sex jokes, by god, the sex jokes at your expense. No, you aren’t a “prude,” you just… don’t have time for that.

(It started after the fifth girl she brought over. You confronted her, begged her to go to a damn hotel or something because it was getting ridiculous. You're probably only getting five hours of sleep a day and your clit really cannot take another night.

“I don’t really see the problem here,” she had said with her signature smirk.

“Sevika," you hissed, fuming, "You have these girls moaning like it’s their job!”

“Jealous?”

You had blushed at that and Sevika, observant as she was, did not miss the way your face turned tomato red.

“Wooow,” She draws the word out with the biggest grin on her face, amused to all hell, “you are!”

“Wh–” You wheezed, caught off guard, “No? I’m not!”

You sort of are. There’s no fucking way you’ll tell her that though.)

You’re going insane.

This woman is fucking insufferable. You wouldn’t really call yourself a petty woman per se, but Sevika makes you that kind of person. The idiot leaves her prosthetic arm everywhere around the apartment and it brings you immense satisfaction to hide it —  just to see how panicked she gets when she has to tear the entire place apart to find it.

You do not know how you were going to survive sexual frustration without fucking your roommate, which would be very, very bad. Or without going completely bald from the stress. Baldness would be preferable, honestly.

//

You sigh as you fumbled with the old front door knob to your shared apartment. You really don’t understand why the fuck your landlord refuses to just replace this ancient thing — the prongs of your keys get stuck in the eroded hole on a regular basis and it is a pain in the ass to wrestle it out without breaking the metal.

After ten straight minutes of struggle, you finally get the door open, only to get hit in the face with the strong odor of cigarillo smoke. Fucking god.

“Sevika!” You snarl, ready to yell at her.

The woman in question is sitting by the window, cigarillo in hand while actively blowing the fumes outside. You blink and look up and down at her. Sevika has seemingly dressed down for the night, wearing only an undershirt and loose sweatpants. The bulge between her crotch is deliciously highlighted by how she’s manspreaded across the loveseat. 

She raises her eyebrows up at you expectantly. You swallow, your throat suddenly desert dry. 

“…Hi.”

Sevika chuckles lowly at that, “hello.”

“I was—” you cough, “—I was going to yell at you for, uh… smoking inside.”

Sevika nods along slowly, like you were the crazy one here and she wasn’t the woman sitting in the living room with a hard on and blowing her cigarette smoke out the window for the first time in the three months you’ve lived here.

She uses her muscular arm to brace against the loveseat in order to sit up properly on the couch. The cigarillo looks delicate in her calloused hands. The movement highlights the muscles in her biceps and forearms, but it also jostles her cock, making you swallow harshly. She has to be doing this on purpose, you think.

“I’ll just—” you squeak out, gesturing awkwardly towards your bedroom, “I’m going to my bedroom now.”

Sevika smiles at that and brings a hand up to wave condescendingly at you.

“Sweet dreams.”

At that, you run to your room, slamming the door so hard the walls around seemed to vibrate. You slump against the door frame, horny and sweating.

What the fuck.