- Joined
- Sep 9, 2015
- Location
- ʙᴀ ᴅᴜᴍ 𝙩𝙨𝙨
Alas, it wasn’t just a matter of who was whose. Like a grouchy toddler who bit the other children for daring to touch her toys, Evelynn was possessive beyond any bounds of reason. Not a matter of simple jealousy either - laughable, who could possibly give her cause for jealousy? Evelynn was temptation incarnate, sex ribbon-wrapped in refinement and polish, the dictionary definition of sublimity and a wet dream that strutted around in stilettos sharp enough to puncture hearts incurably. It was telling that she hasn’t had to resort to supernatural variants of allure for ages now. Nowadays, anything with a pulse couldn’t seem to stop throwing themselves at her. No, she could give Narcissus a run for his money as far as vanity went, but had a far better head on her shoulders. Rather, it came down to attention. To time.
In Ahri’s defense, she was always conscious of her lover’s demanding ways. Ever quick to offer a kiss in the passing, a smile, to brush up against Evelynn’s side and provide other tokens of her affection. The Siren could not say that she felt neglected, no, but she was greedy, and they were both so busy. Busier than ever now after that successful, and continuing, collaboration with Seraphine. Both of their schedules were filled to bursting with sold-out concerts, with all the planning and practice that went into making each and every show an unforgettable memory. Into something that stood in defiant opposition to bubblegum pink and mediocrity. And on top of that, Ahri had obligations to meet with fashion designers, with financial people and god knows who else for her cosmetic line, her perfume line…
Infuriatingly industrious, borderline workaholic. All the goddamn time. It didn’t matter that there was no one else, Evelynn had to share her Ahri with what felt like the entire world. And that was not even mentioning what prompted this whole thing in the first place. The marks, the ceaseless demands for attention, even down to the bestial way she claimed her lover. All of it came down to her being grumpy, like a pet left alone for too long, tearing up furniture without the slightest hint of remorse. Not that she would ever deign to compare herself to one of those. Just like how she would never vocalize the source of her surliness.
Besides, she knew how to get what she wanted without outright asking for it. Her vocal cords thrummed with a pleased purr at the touch descending her hips, pressing forward and into to savor the stirring sting of nails. Always did like it rough, as was in keeping with her nature, and Ahri was certainly no stranger to that fact. “I suppose that’s my fault for side-reeling your dinner plans?” She hummed, all good humor, knowing full well what Ahri was talking about, but loved to pretend otherwise just because. “We can’t have that now, can we, imagine the public outrage if your fans found out that we’ve been starving their beloved Foxy.” Drew a lazy circle with her hips, languid, as if it were not her who had been left wanting just moments prior. Her composure was spectacular as always, but there was no attempt at misdirection. No point. With or without the more obvious physiological signs, Ahri could always tell, just like Evelynn herself would always know.
“I think I’m the one who would be helping you in that case, no?” Managed to flip the prompt on its head, she did. Because she was almost as allergic to the notion of being helped as she was to concepts like straight-forwardness or clear communication. Whatever the words that left their respective lips though, the actionables were the same. But she wouldn’t be Evelynn if she weren’t difficult about anything and everything.
Were it anyone else, she would have already laid a hand upon the shoulder, pushing down. Liked staring down at her prey, looming, unreadable, reminding them that even the most powerful mortals would always be less than. But Ahri was neither mortal nor less than, and so, she did not want Ahri on her knees.
“Since you asked so nicely, love, let’s do something about that hunger of yours.” She drew away unhurriedly, allowing her full length to brush against those curled digits, sampling the appetizer. Turn and pivot, a meaningful glance thrown over her shoulder, beneath those still immaculate lashes. Sashayed her way over to the bed; the sway to her hips so trademark it was impossible to say if it was more than usual or not. Her lashers assisted with piling and fluffing pillows behind her back, and she half-leaned, half-draped against them. A subtle inhale. Smelled like Ahri. Wouldn’t be that way for long, a self-satisfied part of herself crowed. She propped an elbow up, supporting her jaw with a loosely formed fist, body language open and inviting as she continued to track her lover with her eyes. Burnished and golden, brighter than the blue holo of that clock and far more mesmerizing. Those lilac threads were swept forward over a shoulder to prevent any pinch, and they poured down a breast, her side, glossy and lustrous, far finer than any expensive sheets Ahri might have favored. “Please me, darling, come taste yourself.” She patted the empty space between her thighs, the same hand poised to tangle into equally luxurious blonde strands.
In Ahri’s defense, she was always conscious of her lover’s demanding ways. Ever quick to offer a kiss in the passing, a smile, to brush up against Evelynn’s side and provide other tokens of her affection. The Siren could not say that she felt neglected, no, but she was greedy, and they were both so busy. Busier than ever now after that successful, and continuing, collaboration with Seraphine. Both of their schedules were filled to bursting with sold-out concerts, with all the planning and practice that went into making each and every show an unforgettable memory. Into something that stood in defiant opposition to bubblegum pink and mediocrity. And on top of that, Ahri had obligations to meet with fashion designers, with financial people and god knows who else for her cosmetic line, her perfume line…
Infuriatingly industrious, borderline workaholic. All the goddamn time. It didn’t matter that there was no one else, Evelynn had to share her Ahri with what felt like the entire world. And that was not even mentioning what prompted this whole thing in the first place. The marks, the ceaseless demands for attention, even down to the bestial way she claimed her lover. All of it came down to her being grumpy, like a pet left alone for too long, tearing up furniture without the slightest hint of remorse. Not that she would ever deign to compare herself to one of those. Just like how she would never vocalize the source of her surliness.
Besides, she knew how to get what she wanted without outright asking for it. Her vocal cords thrummed with a pleased purr at the touch descending her hips, pressing forward and into to savor the stirring sting of nails. Always did like it rough, as was in keeping with her nature, and Ahri was certainly no stranger to that fact. “I suppose that’s my fault for side-reeling your dinner plans?” She hummed, all good humor, knowing full well what Ahri was talking about, but loved to pretend otherwise just because. “We can’t have that now, can we, imagine the public outrage if your fans found out that we’ve been starving their beloved Foxy.” Drew a lazy circle with her hips, languid, as if it were not her who had been left wanting just moments prior. Her composure was spectacular as always, but there was no attempt at misdirection. No point. With or without the more obvious physiological signs, Ahri could always tell, just like Evelynn herself would always know.
“I think I’m the one who would be helping you in that case, no?” Managed to flip the prompt on its head, she did. Because she was almost as allergic to the notion of being helped as she was to concepts like straight-forwardness or clear communication. Whatever the words that left their respective lips though, the actionables were the same. But she wouldn’t be Evelynn if she weren’t difficult about anything and everything.
Were it anyone else, she would have already laid a hand upon the shoulder, pushing down. Liked staring down at her prey, looming, unreadable, reminding them that even the most powerful mortals would always be less than. But Ahri was neither mortal nor less than, and so, she did not want Ahri on her knees.
“Since you asked so nicely, love, let’s do something about that hunger of yours.” She drew away unhurriedly, allowing her full length to brush against those curled digits, sampling the appetizer. Turn and pivot, a meaningful glance thrown over her shoulder, beneath those still immaculate lashes. Sashayed her way over to the bed; the sway to her hips so trademark it was impossible to say if it was more than usual or not. Her lashers assisted with piling and fluffing pillows behind her back, and she half-leaned, half-draped against them. A subtle inhale. Smelled like Ahri. Wouldn’t be that way for long, a self-satisfied part of herself crowed. She propped an elbow up, supporting her jaw with a loosely formed fist, body language open and inviting as she continued to track her lover with her eyes. Burnished and golden, brighter than the blue holo of that clock and far more mesmerizing. Those lilac threads were swept forward over a shoulder to prevent any pinch, and they poured down a breast, her side, glossy and lustrous, far finer than any expensive sheets Ahri might have favored. “Please me, darling, come taste yourself.” She patted the empty space between her thighs, the same hand poised to tangle into equally luxurious blonde strands.