are you the vulture; are you the dove?

A rhythmic beat hums low in the background from the speakers in the room, a deep, sultry thrum that matches the slow roll of Margot’s hips as she strides toward the bed. She holds two glasses of whiskey in her hands, their amber liquid catching the light as she moves, the way her hips sway unmistakably intentional, like she knows exactly where Sevika’s eyes are lingering. She stops just shy of the bed, the circular platform that dominates the room, and hands Sevika her drink without a word at first, her lips curling into a faint, teasing smile as their fingers brush. She takes a long sip of her own drink, the whiskey burning sweet and sharp on her tongue as her scarlet eyes flick to Sevika’s face, scanning her expression with an almost predatory calm.

❛ Well, ❜ she begins, her smoky voice cutting through the tension with languid ease, ❛ I mean it has been almost two years since I last saw you. ❜ She sets her glass down on the nightstand, the sound of it meeting the wood soft. Then, with the grace of a predator closing in on its prey, she lifts the slitted fabric of her black dress with one elegant hand, exposing the pale, soft curve of her thighs as she climbs onto the bed.

The mattress dips slightly beneath her weight, and she straddles Sevika’s lap as though it is a throne and she is the queen who belongs there. Her movements are unhurried, confident, every shift of her body speaking to the control she wields—not just over herself, but over the room, the moment, and the woman beneath her. She settles against Sevika with an ease that belies the time they’ve spent apart, her fingers brushing against Sevika’s shoulders as she leans forward, close enough that their breaths mingle in the air between them.

❛ I was beginning to think that you were done with me, ❜ she murmurs, her tone laced with teasing, though there’s a flicker of something genuine beneath it—a hint of vulnerability buried deep within her sultry drawl, too faint to grasp fully. Her scarlet eyes glint with mischief as she watches for Sevika’s reaction, and her hand lifts to rest lightly at the side of Sevika’s neck. Her thumb traces the curve of her throat in a slow motion, her touch soft but firm.

❛ If I’m being completely honest, ❜ Margot continues, her voice dropping lower, silkier, as her gaze lingers on Sevika’s lips for half a heartbeat before returning to her eyes, ❛ I worried my tongue might have been too sharp the last time we spoke. ❜ She leans in closer, her breath warm against Sevika’s jaw as she lets the words hang in the air for a moment. ❛ I’ll be sure it feels a lot better this time, ❜ she purrs, the corner of her dark lips curling into a wicked smile, one that softens only slightly when it reaches her eyes.

"Fuck," she murmurs, shaking her head as time hits her like a brick. "Two years, huh?" Almost two years sounds right, if she really thinks about it, but she hasn't thought about it. However long it's been, it's felt like a blurred, circular hell. It definitely doesn't feel like two years as she watches Margot's hand slide up her own thigh, guiding the black dress up, and then claiming Sevika's lap as her own. Dark, large hands slide up pale, thin thighs, settling on the blonde's hips.

Sevika can't help the pleased, cocky grin at the near apology that comes from the younger woman despite the previous furrow of her eyebrows at the mention of thinking Sevika was done with her. "Is that an apology?" she asks, eyebrows flicking up as large hands settle on smaller hips. A nonchalant shrug brings up a single shoulder. "Believe me, I've heard worse. Wasn't you. I've just been... busy." The word is heavy, like there's more to it. Work is only a small part of why she hasn't been back and their last encounter isn't a reason at all. not anymore. "You know I always come back in the end, sweetheart." There's a lightness in her tone, but the low sadness still lingers even as she gently grabs Margot's face in her hand, stroking her cheek.

Margot places her glass back on the nightstand with an unhurried grace, her movements fluid and deliberate, as though every gesture is meant to draw Sevika’s attention—and she knows it does. Her hands slide up to rest against Sevika’s broad shoulders, the heat of her palms pressing through the fabric of Sevika’s shirt. A quiet sigh slips past Margot’s lips, not quite a moan, but enough to betray how long it’s been since someone she truly wanted to touch her had dared to do so. ❛ It can be an apology if you want it to be, ❜ she murmurs coyly, her voice low, teasing, as her scarlet eyes meet Sevika’s. There’s a gleam of mischief in her gaze, but there’s something softer beneath it, a flicker of unspoken acknowledgment. Margot can see the sadness that lingers in Sevika’s eyes, despite how carefully she tries to bury it. But Margot doesn’t prod. She isn’t here to fix Sevika’s wounds or press her fingers into her scars. That’s not who they are, and Sevika isn’t here for that. No, she’s here to fuck—and Margot will always be happy to oblige.

Still, Margot lets the truth slip out anyway, even though she hadn’t planned to. It doesn’t feel like a confession; it feels more like an offering, like giving Sevika a glimpse behind the curtain of the woman who never stops performing. ❛ Believe it or not, I actually missed you, ❜ she admits, her voice softening just slightly as her lips curl into a knowing smirk. ❛ Your absence didn’t go unnoticed. ❜ When Sevika’s hand comes up to cup her face, Margot lets her eyes flutter half-closed, the smirk on her lips growing as if she’s won some unspoken game between them. Her smaller hand rises to Sevika’s wrist, delicate fingers curling around it—not to remove the touch, but to keep it there, to savor the warmth of Sevika’s palm against her cheek. She hums softly, a low, pleased sound deep in her throat. ❛ Don’t worry, love, ❜ she purrs, her voice laced with a sultry drawl, ❛ I’m sure we’ll have no trouble making up for lost time. ❜

The kiss is a spark, lighting a fire that Margot has been craving for far too long. She melts into it, her lips parting easily, her scarlet eyes fluttering shut as her body presses fully against Sevika’s. Her hips shift instinctively, rolling into Sevika’s lap, seeking friction, heat, anything to feed the ache already pooling low in her belly. The warmth of Sevika’s mouth is enough to make Margot moan softly, the sound vibrating in her throat as she deepens the kiss, her tongue sliding against Sevika’s in a slow rhythm.

Her fingers thread through the short, dark hair at the nape of Sevika’s neck, while her other hand begins to move with practiced skill, working at the buckle of Sevika’s belt. The kiss breaks only when Margot leans back, her breath coming just a touch faster now, though her composure remains intact, her scarlet eyes glittering with lust and amusement. ❛ If at any point I’m moving too slow—or too quick—just say the word, and I’ll do whatever you’d like, ❜ she says, her voice velvety smooth, her lips curling into a smirk as she tugs the belt free from Sevika’s pants with a few quick pulls and tosses it aside without care. She pauses, before her hands slide to the hem of her dress. Slowly she pulls the black fabric up and over her head, baring her pale and soft flesh beneath. Her chest is bare, and the only thing left adorning her body is a pair of lacy black underwear that clings to her hips like a whisper. She discards the dress onto the bed beside them without sparing it a glance, her focus entirely on Sevika as she shifts forward, pressing her now half-nude body flush against Sevika’s chest.

𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐔𝐗 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐏 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 pulses strongly in the baron's tone and fills the most sacred corner of the baroness' beloved empire so nonchalantly. His lighter's flicking comes to a sharp halt only when its light is offered to the baroness' cigarette, a kind gesture for the good business they have going on between them ; the clients he has brought along ought to shed light on not only his business' direction but that of her as well — once the needed information is successfully milked. It would not take long for the stench of their sins to seep into the halls of the Vyx, he supposes.

The dim amber light of Margot’s office glints off her golden cigarette holder as she leans forward into the offered flame, the soft edges of her face momentarily haloed in flickering warmth. A soft inhale, slow and deliberate, pulls the embers to life, and the scent of tobacco mingles with the faint metallic tang that lingers in the air—a gift of Zaun’s polluted veins. ❛ Well, you know me, darling, ❜ she purrs, her voice a smoky rasp, drawn out and measured. ❛ I’m always pleased to offer my services . . . ❜ She lets the sentence hang, punctuating it with a languorous drag from her cigarette. The ash grows longer at the tip, though she doesn’t bother to tap it away yet. Instead, she watches him with a half-lidded gaze that radiates both amusement and predatory intent.

❛ They’re never who you want. I suppose I should be flattered that I seem to be the only person in all of Zaun who is able to get you off. ❜ The smirk on Margot’s lips widens as Sevika growls at her, the sound low and feral, reverberating in her chest like thunder before a storm. It sends a delicious shiver up Margot’s spine, not fear—but something darker, sharper, something that has her blood heating beneath her cold exterior. She lingers there, close enough to feel Sevika’s breath on her lips, close enough to taunt without touching. ❛ Oh no, baby, I couldn’t forget that if I tried. I prefer it that way. Nothin’ more annoying than a dog that won’t stop fucking barking, ❜ she practically whispers the words against Sevika’s lips, ❛ Always so loyal too. ❜ She says it half-teasing, half-praise. Sort of like she’s speaking to a well-trained dog. Her scarlet eyes, half-lidded and brimming with mischief, flicker over the taller woman’s face as though she’s cataloging every detail for her own amusement. The anger tightening Sevika’s jaw only fuels her, and her soft snicker is an exhale of satisfaction as her fingertips trail lower, slipping just beneath the waistband of Sevika’s pants.

Her fingers are cold against Sevika’s warm skin, and she takes her time, letting the backs of them brush in slow, deliberate strokes across the firm plane of Sevika’s abdomen. She tilts her head, a stray strand of green-dipped hair slipping across her cheek as she gazes up at Sevika with mock innocence, though her smile betrays her. ❛ Mmm, okay, ❜ she murmurs, her voice low and honeyed, ❛ so you’re not a puppy. ❜ Her nails barely graze the skin beneath her fingers now, light enough to tease, just enough to remind Sevika who is in control here. ❛ You’re a big, mean, scary doberman, ❜ she continues, her tone shifting to a mockery so subtle it could almost be playful. She lets the words hang in the air for a moment before her voice deepens, turning entirely sultry as she locks her gaze on Sevika’s. ❛ But you’d be a puppy if I asked you to be . . . isn’t that right? ❜

Her fingers flex, her grip on the waistband of Sevika’s pants tightening just enough to pull Sevika forward as Margot begins to step back, leading her toward the corner of the room. Her voice lowers to a near-whisper now, dripping with seduction and dominance. ❛ You’d be a good girl and follow . . . ❜ she murmurs, her lips curling into a wicked smile as she lets the final word drip from her tongue like poison, ❛ . . . when I say heel? ❜

She doesn’t wait for an answer, doesn’t need one. Margot is already turning, her small frame moving with deliberate elegance as she leads Sevika toward the stairwell in the corner, her hips swaying with every step. The faint click of her heels on the metal stairs echoes softly in the enclosed space as they descend. At the bottom, she reaches for the heavy metal door, pushing it open to reveal a room that is a world unto itself, a temple to indulgence and desire. The violet glow of LED lights spills out into the stairwell. The air is thick with the intoxicating scent of rose, patchouli, and musk, the incense smoke curling lazily around the room like phantom fingers. The circular bed dominates the space, its black and crimson sheets perfectly arranged, though the handcuffs still dangling from the headboard are anything but subtle. On the wall to the right, her arsenal of toys gleams beneath the violet light, their variety and craftsmanship a testament to her own meticulous tastes. The private bar tucked in the corner is stocked with liquor, and she drifts toward it now, her movements unhurried, every step intentional.

A smirk tugs at Sevika's lips, almost proud of the fact that Margot prefers her with a little bit. It's not a surprise. It's how they work, but it does stoke her ego, making her want to bite. But then Margo's calling her loyal and fuck, she missed this. She can't deny that either. She is loyal to Margot and she wouldn't have it any other way. She melts with that, but she still tries to keep up a vaguely snarky look on her face. Cat's got her tongue and she's okay with that. Maybe pussy'll have her tongue later.

Her breath hitches as cold fingers brush against warm, desperate skin. She's already needy. Hell, she came in needy, even if she hadn't come in wet and wanting. Her eyes roll though when she's called a 'big, mean, scary doberman' (despite how accurate the tease is). Her eyebrows furrow, pushing down the way Margot's continued words and suggested praise eats away at her resolve, having to fight even harder when the words good girl leave the other's lips. A deep, visceral part of her wants to nod eagerly, but she's not there yet. That sort of submission has to be earned and pulled out of her.

She follows without complaint though, knowing she has time to snap back. A lascivious smirk brings up the corner of her lip, eyebrow rising along with it as she watches Margot walk away, eyes trained on the shorter woman's ass. Despite how it's not what she wants, she has half a mind to push her face into the bed that she knows is in her future and filling her with the biggest toy Margot has. That thought is pushed out the window though when they finally enter their haven. This is Sevika's time to let go of her need to be in control, hand it over to the one person who knows how to treat her right. Not without a little fun first, of course.

"You know I do," she comments, smirking as fingers glide over her jaw, guiding down her line of sight without any effort. "Don't I know it." She backs up though, taking off her coat in an attempt to push buttons despite how small and inconsequential the action is.

A rhythmic beat hums low in the background from the speakers in the room, a deep, sultry thrum that matches the slow roll of Margot’s hips as she strides toward the bed. She holds two glasses of whiskey in her hands, their amber liquid catching the light as she moves, the way her hips sway unmistakably intentional, like she knows exactly where Sevika’s eyes are lingering. She stops just shy of the bed, the circular platform that dominates the room, and hands Sevika her drink without a word at first, her lips curling into a faint, teasing smile as their fingers brush. She takes a long sip of her own drink, the whiskey burning sweet and sharp on her tongue as her scarlet eyes flick to Sevika’s face, scanning her expression with an almost predatory calm.

❛ Well, ❜ she begins, her smoky voice cutting through the tension with languid ease, ❛ I mean it has been almost two years since I last saw you. ❜ She sets her glass down on the nightstand, the sound of it meeting the wood soft. Then, with the grace of a predator closing in on its prey, she lifts the slitted fabric of her black dress with one elegant hand, exposing the pale, soft curve of her thighs as she climbs onto the bed.

The mattress dips slightly beneath her weight, and she straddles Sevika’s lap as though it is a throne and she is the queen who belongs there. Her movements are unhurried, confident, every shift of her body speaking to the control she wields—not just over herself, but over the room, the moment, and the woman beneath her. She settles against Sevika with an ease that belies the time they’ve spent apart, her fingers brushing against Sevika’s shoulders as she leans forward, close enough that their breaths mingle in the air between them.

❛ I was beginning to think that you were done with me, ❜ she murmurs, her tone laced with teasing, though there’s a flicker of something genuine beneath it—a hint of vulnerability buried deep within her sultry drawl, too faint to grasp fully. Her scarlet eyes glint with mischief as she watches for Sevika’s reaction, and her hand lifts to rest lightly at the side of Sevika’s neck. Her thumb traces the curve of her throat in a slow motion, her touch soft but firm.

❛ If I’m being completely honest, ❜ Margot continues, her voice dropping lower, silkier, as her gaze lingers on Sevika’s lips for half a heartbeat before returning to her eyes, ❛ I worried my tongue might have been too sharp the last time we spoke. ❜ She leans in closer, her breath warm against Sevika’s jaw as she lets the words hang in the air for a moment. ❛ I’ll be sure it feels a lot better this time, ❜ she purrs, the corner of her dark lips curling into a wicked smile, one that softens only slightly when it reaches her eyes.

quotes that me and my friends have written , taken from various fanfictions. trigger warnings for swearing.

❛ I don't know what you want from me. ❜

❛ I'm sorry that I can't help you now. ❜

❛ I cannot understand what you are trying to get me to do. ❜

❛ You are getting nowhere with this. ❜

❛ Careful, now, we don't want to upset our new guest. ❜

❛ If I didn't know any better I'd say you were making poisons in here , not coffee. ❜

❛ Planning on staying up for the foreseeable future? ❜

❛ Did you need something? ❜

❛ That could not have been very comfortable. ❜

❛ I just haven't found anything better yet. ❜

❛ I expected as much. ❜

❛ Just make sure to credit me for the idea. ❜

❛ This feel as familiar to you as it does to me ? ❜

❛ You think it would get a little old after this long. ❜

❛ It seems things just keep coming. ❜

❛ We're still here, aren't we? ❜

❛ I believe things can work out. ❜

❛ There's that look again. ❜

❛ You're moping in here. ❜

❛ That is why you are here, is it not? ❜

❛ Oh, don't give yourself that much credit. ❜

❛ I'm here because you miss me. ❜

❛ What else could there possibly be? ❜

❛ Have you come here just to taunt me? ❜

❛ There is nothing more for you to tell me. ❜

❛ It's great to meet you! ❜

❛ Prying eyes are not something I am unfamiliar with. ❜

❛ Something weighs on your mind. ❜

❛ You're just .. really hot. ❜

❛ I mean, the outfit. Looks great. ❜

❛ My decisions are my own. ❜

❛ I could be looking at anything. ❜

❛ What exactly do you do around here for fun? ❜

❛ That sounds like fun. ❜

❛ I do not wish to hear anything out. ❜

❛ I don't have that kind of money. ❜

❛ Are you out of your fucking mind? ❜

❛ Well, well . . . ❜ Margot drawls, her voice as smoky as the room itself, each syllable drawn out like a cat stretching after a long nap. ❛ Look what the gutters spat back out at me. ❜ Her gaze drifts over the girl, not in the hungry, appraising way she reserves for a potential asset, but with something closer to curiosity—as if she’s studying an insect that’s miraculously survived being pinned under glass. ❛ Congratulations, darling, ❜ she purrs, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her dark lips. ❛ What do you want? A cookie? ❜ The Undercity has a way of marking people—if not with blood or bruises, then with something deeper, something harder to name. She’s looking for it now, the cracks in the topsider’s porcelain shell.

// maddie is a fragile little thing. all curves, soft corners, skin that she's fought hard to keep as flawless as possible. but the little girl isn't a fighter, born with pink skin into a world she shouldn't have survived.

leaving noxus wasn't planned. ending up in zaun, even less. her piltovan filled with leaks, tossed into a world she barely understands, and yet, she survives, just like she did in the noxian streets. they tear at you, they force you to become the warrior they see in everyone. maddie never became that.

when she showed up here the first time, margot had laughed at her. barely listened to her. disregarded her as a little girl that piltover discarded, that wasn't going to survive a day amongst zaunites. not to claim it was easy: the air is hard to breathe. as she stands in front of margot, slightly uneasy, her weight shifts.

eyes narrow. " you- I- " there's a pause in the noxian's voice, throat cleared in an attempt to sound any less like she's speaking with the heaviest noxian accent.

the little bug smiles awkwardly. " I want work. I can work for you. " survival, is what she wants. as any noxian does: the deep, unsatiable hunger to survive that slumbers inside of every noxian. that takes ahold of every single one of them as they come of age.

The rasp of Margot’s exhale is the only sound that lingers between them for a moment too long, purple smoke curling from her lips like a dragon roused from its slumber. Her crimson eyes narrow, sharp and unreadable, as they trace every inch of the girl standing before her. She is all softness—delicate curves, smooth skin unmarred by Zaun’s brutal edge—but there’s something in those wide eyes, a flicker of defiance, or perhaps desperation. It’s that look, more than anything, that gives Margot pause. She exhales another slow plume of smoke, the haze framing her face as she rises from her seat. The movement is deliberate, predatory. She steps closer, her small frame somehow casting a shadow far larger than it should in the low light of the room.

❛ Relentless little thing, huh? ❜ she murmurs, the corners of her mouth curling into a smirk that’s equal parts amused and exasperated. Her voice is raspy, dripping with a mixture of intrigue and condescension. Her scarlet eyes flick down, skimming over the girl’s figure, and for a moment, something unreadable flickers across Margot’s face. It’s fleeting—gone before it can be named—but it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. She recognizes that body language, that quiet desperation wrapped in an attempt at confidence. She’s seen it before, in the cracked reflections of dirty mirrors, in the younger version of herself that once clawed her way through the same mire this girl is now wading into.

The girl is a walking contradiction: too fragile for this city, yet stubborn enough to keep showing up at Margot’s door. That stubbornness, at least, earns a flicker of respect. Margot takes another drag from the long, gold-tipped hose of the hookah, letting the burn of the smoke ground her before exhaling once more. She turns her head slightly, her gaze sliding away as if to dismiss the girl entirely—but she doesn’t. Not yet.

The firelight dances across the brass fixtures of the room, casting jagged reflections on the dark metal walls that surround them. The air is heavy with the mingling scents of old iron, whiskey, and the faint traces of Margot’s favorite jasmine perfume. She watches Sevika from the shadowed corner of the room, her gaze a slow drag over the broad shoulders and scarred face she remembers well. Her silhouette cuts a sharp figure against the glow, all sharp angles and sinuous curves, adorned in her usual blend of temptation and industry. Those scarlet eyes of hers glimmer like embers in the dim room as she watches Sevika. Her dark lips curl into a smirk, the expression both inviting and barbed. ❛ How many times have I told you, darling? ❜ she begins, her smoky voice carrying across the room like a lazy exhale, ❛ I have people who do these things for me now. ❜ She keeps her tone teasing, laced with a sultry drawl that rolls over each word like silk unraveling from a spool.

Margot steps away from the fireplace, heels clicking softly against the polished floor as she moves closer to her yearning visitor. Her eyes trail Sevika’s form, the broad chest, the still-dusty coat, the strong, calloused hands she can still feel. Even now, with her stature diminished and her empire stripped to its raw, tenuous foundations, Margot has the presence of a queen. Her movements are deliberate, unhurried, as though Sevika’s arrival is nothing more than a pleasant diversion she was expecting all along. And yet, there’s something deeper under the surface—an awareness that pricks like a needle, reminding her of just how precarious her position has become.

She halts just in front of Sevika, close enough to invade her space but far enough to maintain an air of control. Tilting her head, she lets her gaze wander up the larger woman’s face, ❛ Although, I suppose I should watch my tongue about certain things now around Councilor Sevika. ❜ The title drips from her lips, a sardonic lilt of her voice.

Her hand rises, ungloved and pale against Sevika’s dark coat, and she places it lightly on the other woman’s chest. The corner of her mouth lifts higher as her scarlet eyes flick up to meet Sevika’s own. ❛ But no . . . ❜ she murmurs, ❛ You wouldn’t come here like a dog drooling over its favorite bone just to fuck me, then fuck me over, right? ❜

Her fingers begin to trail downward, a languid, deliberate motion that brushes against the solid muscle beneath Sevika’s clothing. She’s taking her time, savoring the tension in the air and the way her words coil like smoke around them. She tilts her head slightly, her green-dipped hair brushing her jaw as she studies the woman before her. There’s a flicker of something different in Sevika’s expression—anguish, maybe, or something dangerously close to it. It’s subtle, but Margot doesn’t miss it. She never misses anything.

"Yeah," she agrees easily as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "But they're not who I want." There's a smirk on her lips, she wants to close even more distance between them, but this is Margot's lion den. She's the one in control here. This time. For now. They both know Sevika asks for what she wants. If she had wanted someone else, she would've asked for them, but she's fucking horny and Margot's the only person she can stand the thought of touching her, of seeing the most vulnerable parts of her. She doesn't even remember the last time she fucked someone. A younger Sevika would be disappointed; how could she not want to push some pretty stranger face first into her bed, pounding into them until their legs give and they cry out her name? Or a million other boxer soaking options? But the thought almost repulsed her, and even now that's not what she wants.

Sevika's belly twists with how close, and far, Margot is. And then her face twists as if the suggestion that Sevika would rat Margot out is fucking stupid and it is. Maybe she has a certain appearance, now that she's part of the Piltover circle jerk, but she's not a fucking narc and she never will be. At the same time 'a dog drooling over it's favourite bone'... she hates how accurate it is and haw wet it makes her. "You forget this dog is more bite than bark?" she asks in a low growl, leaning in closer and nearly snarling. She's not though, is she? Not with Margot, not right now. "I'm not one of them. Not like that. I'm Zaun's voice. Nothing else."

Her jaw drops and her eyes shut as she lets herself savour the hand that brushes down her chest and even lower. She has to stop herself from whimpering. She doesn't remember the last time someone really touched her and she wants to fall to her knees. Or, if it was someone else, fall into Margot's arms to be cradled, but that's not what they do. They fuck. Sometimes Sevika has control (only perceived, Sevika knows that, even if she can actually take control) and sometimes Margot does, but that's all it is.

The fire low in her stomach lights and she wants to shove the shorter blonde back into the nearest wall, even more so when she comments on her so-called wounded puppy look. Her jaw sets and an anger ignites inside of her, trying so valiantly to cover the pain Margot seemingly saw. "I'm not a fuckin' puppy."

❛ They’re never who you want. I suppose I should be flattered that I seem to be the only person in all of Zaun who is able to get you off. ❜ The smirk on Margot’s lips widens as Sevika growls at her, the sound low and feral, reverberating in her chest like thunder before a storm. It sends a delicious shiver up Margot’s spine, not fear—but something darker, sharper, something that has her blood heating beneath her cold exterior. She lingers there, close enough to feel Sevika’s breath on her lips, close enough to taunt without touching. ❛ Oh no, baby, I couldn’t forget that if I tried. I prefer it that way. Nothin’ more annoying than a dog that won’t stop fucking barking, ❜ she practically whispers the words against Sevika’s lips, ❛ Always so loyal too. ❜ She says it half-teasing, half-praise. Sort of like she’s speaking to a well-trained dog. Her scarlet eyes, half-lidded and brimming with mischief, flicker over the taller woman’s face as though she’s cataloging every detail for her own amusement. The anger tightening Sevika’s jaw only fuels her, and her soft snicker is an exhale of satisfaction as her fingertips trail lower, slipping just beneath the waistband of Sevika’s pants.

Her fingers are cold against Sevika’s warm skin, and she takes her time, letting the backs of them brush in slow, deliberate strokes across the firm plane of Sevika’s abdomen. She tilts her head, a stray strand of green-dipped hair slipping across her cheek as she gazes up at Sevika with mock innocence, though her smile betrays her. ❛ Mmm, okay, ❜ she murmurs, her voice low and honeyed, ❛ so you’re not a puppy. ❜ Her nails barely graze the skin beneath her fingers now, light enough to tease, just enough to remind Sevika who is in control here. ❛ You’re a big, mean, scary doberman, ❜ she continues, her tone shifting to a mockery so subtle it could almost be playful. She lets the words hang in the air for a moment before her voice deepens, turning entirely sultry as she locks her gaze on Sevika’s. ❛ But you’d be a puppy if I asked you to be . . . isn’t that right? ❜

Her fingers flex, her grip on the waistband of Sevika’s pants tightening just enough to pull Sevika forward as Margot begins to step back, leading her toward the corner of the room. Her voice lowers to a near-whisper now, dripping with seduction and dominance. ❛ You’d be a good girl and follow . . . ❜ she murmurs, her lips curling into a wicked smile as she lets the final word drip from her tongue like poison, ❛ . . . when I say heel? ❜

She doesn’t wait for an answer, doesn’t need one. Margot is already turning, her small frame moving with deliberate elegance as she leads Sevika toward the stairwell in the corner, her hips swaying with every step. The faint click of her heels on the metal stairs echoes softly in the enclosed space as they descend. At the bottom, she reaches for the heavy metal door, pushing it open to reveal a room that is a world unto itself, a temple to indulgence and desire. The violet glow of LED lights spills out into the stairwell. The air is thick with the intoxicating scent of rose, patchouli, and musk, the incense smoke curling lazily around the room like phantom fingers. The circular bed dominates the space, its black and crimson sheets perfectly arranged, though the handcuffs still dangling from the headboard are anything but subtle. On the wall to the right, her arsenal of toys gleams beneath the violet light, their variety and craftsmanship a testament to her own meticulous tastes. The private bar tucked in the corner is stocked with liquor, and she drifts toward it now, her movements unhurried, every step intentional.

"Ally with these two? I rather favor my chances with Topside."

#1 HELL'S BELLES

"You finally made it out after I asked you like a billion times."

"Damn, ain't I special?"

"No offense, but you smell like hog ass."

"Ya'll pay to soak in mud here?"

"See, best day ever, right? I told you you'd enjoy yourself!"

"So many exciting things here it's no wonder you never make your way back home."

"I couldn't really see how I fit into this shiny new life you built."

"There's always room in my life for my sister."

"You could come visit more often, too."

#2 MISSION: ANTARCTICA

"What and/or who could have done this?"

"Let's turn him into some Swiss cheese."

"Eat shit in hell, polar slut."

"That slut wasn't running toward us, it was running away from something else."

"I can't just make it go. I'm still getting used to this fucking thing."

"Use your tongue!"

"I'm a fucking top."

#3 MISSION: WEEABOO-BOO

"You enjoy that bullshit musical and stop trying to use me as an excuse to get out of it."

"Give me a knife and I'll kill someone."

"Must be watching them damn hentais again."

"I'm your worst fucking nightmare, bitch."

"Are you putting some kind of nasty spell over me?"

"If you say so, Master. I mean...Daddy."

"Lady, I was sent here to kill you."

"You were a bitch online one time. Someone didn't like it. They put a hit on you. I know it's excessive, but I don't make the rules."

"Can you please stop enjoying this so much?"

"It's done, so you can go ahead and wire me the money now and I'll go ahead and never think about this night ever again."

#4 MISSION: CHUPACABRAS

"I wanna say these are earth goats."

"Aye, caramba! He brought the big guns!"

"Only a hundred pesos to see a real Chupacabra caught by me last night!"

"Watch this monstro suck the blood from the goat!"

"Look, asshole, the only sucking I do is on cocks."

"I'm gonna put you in the fucking ground!"

"Who has cash anymore?"