#s-099

@s-099 asked: ominously looms over her in silence. O_O

Well.....   wasn't   this   interesting?   Verdant   gaze   met   the   strange   woman's   eyes,   expression   unreadable. 

 "......   I   take   it   you   need   something?   Go   on   then   ...."

🌟 - What was the first fandom you remember Rping for?

the syndicate was splintering, she knew. smaller gangs were rising ( they were weeds through concrete ), drunk on their own fleeting power ⸻ there were whispers in alleyways, rumours blooming behind locked doors, and she knew it was only a matter of time until drastic measures would have to be taken. no wonder, however, that they had been kept apart and the echo of her not being there in every room was an aching shape carved into every doorway left unopened. the ache had grown beneath her complexion, vine with thorns that were invasive enough to make her blood feel hot in all the wrong places.

she had waited, regardless. with scorn, with cigarette smoke curling from her tiers, curses held in place by lipstick. she had waited whilst the syndicate unraveled at the seams, whilst lies fermented in every corner of their crumbling city. she had waited whilst those beneath them clashed like dogs starved too long, each one too hungry to know better than to bite. like sin wrapped in silk, her vocals arrived in waves, and her response was no other than a soft and bitter laugh. ❝ miss me much, i see. ❞ the kiss was abrupt and greedy, but she noted the tremble of someone who had waited too long for something forbidden. ninety-nine's mouth crashed into hers, a prayer forgotten and found again, sweet and reckless and aching. and zoya... zoya, in utter and madly response, took the kiss. she claimed it as hers, not in return but in recompense. she took it with teeth and tongue, with a craving that reflected the fury of her soul. and it was with that intensity that she turned them around and pinned her against the wall.

her hands, no longer gloved in dark leather, slipped behind to settle against her lower back, making her bend, making her press inhumanely against her. only to feel the curvature of defined muscles, the swell of forbidden, the warmth of vice and divine. she kissed her back like it was punishment. like she wanted her to feel how long she had been denied. her mourth dragged itself, with tiers parting just wide enough to draw a gasp, with teeth grazing her lower tier until it swelled, turning her into a fruit bitten too hard. her digits fanned out against ninety-nine's waist, holding her firmly, possessively [ ... ] until they moved further down, behind her thigh, to lift her leg in pursuance of circling her waist. and fuck, if it did not feel absolutely delightful to feel her warmth more.