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Black Dog- Post I​

⌘

It was impressive, just how stupid people could be.


Impressive, if a little sickening.
The crowded room was bathed in lust, saturated by the neon red light strips which had been amateurishly, at best, stuck to the ceiling. Judging by the bits hanging down, she surmised they probably hadn't been stuck there more than half an hour before the first guest had arrived. Yet, despite this, they fulfilled their purpose as intended. Their unnatural colour blended light and shadow mercilessly, sensually sliding off beautiful bodies glistening with sweat and turning a once small, bland white room into what seemed an endless carnal tunnel. The sides were hardly visible to those standing in the centre light, drinking in its tint. As they all swayed they gave the impression of a single living mass moving in unison.

And there they were, as she'd expected.
Tucked into an innocuous corner, were slumped the forms of two outliers having slunk away. Off in their own little world, they were blissfully drunk on punch, made with distinctly cheap Bacardi, and high off the fumes of marijuana which clung to the ceilings, creating a layer of mist.
He was desperately sucking on her face like a drowning man breaching the surface. Drool dribbling down both their chins as they frenched. It looked like they were trying to get as much of their tongues as they could down each other's throats, their combined saliva promptly dripping onto the tacky red carpet. God knows what and how much had been spilled into it over numerous of these parties. Enough, at least, for it to stick to the bottom of her heels far too much for her liking. It reminded her of pulling off wet wallpaper with each squelching step.

The two lovebirds clung desperately to each other and what a sight it was to behold. The dark haired jock, Luther, was frenziedly grinding against her hips, awkwardly pushing at her crotch in all the wrong angles. One hand was lubberly trying to get into her shirt but couldn't quite figure out how, ending up just occasionally pawing at her. Amy on the other hand, oh she had run her hands through his hair, grabbing fistfulls for better grip. Well, except that his hair wasn't quite long enough and so kept slipping out of her grasp, resulting in the occasional jerk forwards. She swore they must have head-butted at least once. And dear god, was that him trying to make bedroom eyes at her? It looked more like he was having a hernia. Maybe he was. Especially since, clearly, nobody had taught these two to breathe through their noses when making out. Every few moments they had to stop and raggedly regain their breaths, before diving back in and doing it all over again like an obscene game of tongue whack-a-mole.

It was ugly. It was pathetic. It. Was. Perfect.

One leg crossed over the other, a hard feat in her tight little black dress she might add, she was getting the full viewer experience from the darker side of the room. The red light painted shadows across her face, only just enough to notice the corner of full lips upturned, an eyebrow raised, both in amusement and revulsion.
The two love-drunk morons probably thought that their corner was dark enough to hide them from prying eyes. To their credit, if you were standing in the centre, or were drunk enough, it might have been. Too bad for them, she was neither. And sure, the music was loud enough to cover whatever noises they were making- something she was all too grateful for. A woman could only take so much second hand embarrassment. However, judging by the contorted shapes they made with their mouths, typical of exaggerated moans ripped right out of a bad 90s porno, the lack of audio was not doing them any favours.

Tenderly slipping her phone in between her breasts, video snapped and saved, Miromesnil couldn't help but simper salaciously, her dark red eyes burning into them like the predator she currently was. This was just what she needed.

Poor Eric Schumer was the school's golden boy. Excellent grades, on the football team, apparently slept with numerous cheerleaders- But still oh so sensitive a soul. At least sensitive enough, she hoped, that he probably wouldn't take well to his girlfriend Amy making out with another man. Especially, goodness, so boldly! His daddy was rich beyond her wildest dreams. Fuck buying the island beach house, he was rich enough to buy the damn island. And Amy, smart woman, save for fucking it all up with this dumbass stunt, had her eyes on the prize.
Miro could admire that, she could respect a driven woman. So it really was such a shame that she'd stepped on her toes.

You see, Amy had never really liked Miro.
Call it jealousy, feeling like her spot as main bitch was in question or pure and simple superiority complex- It really didn't matter. She didn't want this newcomer here and had made it plain as day from the get go. Truth be told, she had an almost Aryan view of who should be accepted into their click. Rich daddy, a pair of baby blues, perfect skin or at least a mop of blond hair? Why welcome home, child! And Miro?
Well she just didn't fit anywhere into that equation.

She unashamedly towered over most of the guys in uni- in fact she couldn't get enough of it. Most of them had never felt small before. Nor had they been on the receiving end of some tender bullying. This, she, was new territory and if there was one thing Miro knew about men, it was that nothing gets their dicks hard like something new and vaguely threatening. Watching them slowly go from being cocky little shits to whimpering as she'd run her hand down their necks (claiming to be innocently pulling something out of their hair) made her blood hot in her veins. Theirs too, she'd reckoned. Not that they could expect anything more, she wasn't running a charity.

Miro knew she'd earned a reputation: Reserved, hot and untouchable. She also knew that had it not been for her looks, it might not have been a good one. Bloody red hair, snaked across her shoulders, getting caught between generous breasts, down an hourglass figure to settle right above an ass which would put an over-ripe peach to shame. Add that to thick thighs and long legs, only made longer by her trademark heels, and you had yourself a fucking Amazon. And coincidentally nobody had gotten to fuck her.
It was part of the juvenile mindset she supposed- every guy hoping to be the first.
But even then, no matter what, good looks couldn't win you the game. You had to be smart, play your cards right and only take shit from others as long as it took to get your teeth at their throat.

In fact, she'd only been noticed by the elite when one of the less attractive girls had thought it a good idea to mock her financial circumstances. How cute. And incredibly stupid. She'd gone surprisingly quiet when she received an anonymous video of Miro making out with her boyfriend in the closet; his eyes covered, wrists cuffed and a dick hard enough to break rock. Poor boy, his girlfriend must've been neglecting him, if his wild spasming and aching for more were anything to go by.

…
Artemis really hadn't liked that. He'd claimed it was too far and in poor taste. That the girl had become a total social recluse as a result. They'd argued about it for days. It was one of the first bad spats they'd ever really had. Miro still couldn't forget how shocked she'd been. Looking back there was so much she could have said but in the moment? She'd barely been able to form a retort in the moment. Had he forgotten what that bitch had said about her?

The edge of her lip curled into a disgusted snarl, tongue caught between her pearly teeth at the thought. It had only gone downward from there on out. He always was so damn good.
Good doesn't get you anywhere, a small voice hissed internally, Good has you winding up like HER.


"Miro?"

She vaguely wondered what he would think of her now, seeing her dip her perfectly manicured hands into another relationship for power. Would he still look at her as he did last time? Watery eyes filled with… what was that? Pity? Disgust?


"Miro??"

Not that it fucking matters. Or that I care.
She knew that was bullshit. Anybody who saw her absentmindedly biting her lower lips could have told you so. And the thought damn near ate her up inside. So, instead, she turned to the easier target for her anger, eyes gleaming with vindictive excitement.
And what of dearest Amy? What would she give to ensure her silence? And just how far could push-

"Miro?!!"


Miromesnil felt her stomach drop. She'd jumped hard enough from her perch that her phone had popped right out of her bra. Sucking in a sharp breath, she instinctively dove over the side of the love seat desperately reaching for her ever escaping ticket to unquestioned dominance. Only for it to be deftly caught in a pair of hands sporting far too many rings. And for her to land body over the seat edge, hands sinking right into the red carpet with a stomach churning 'slop'. Fia.

"They hell. Were you even listening to me?" Ophelia Sanjay stood there, looking down at her through her Gucci glasses, one hand loosely on her hip, the other clutching Miro's golden ticket. And oh boy did Miro thank her lucky stars for it. If anybody were to get their hands on it, she was glad for it to be Fia.

Being the daughter of a high end Lawyer who'd immigrated decades earlier you'd have thought Fia would have been one of the nastiest and most entrenched members of the elite. And you'd be dead wrong.
Short, dark skinned, clothed in only the best brands and with an afro so perfectly cut into a circle you'd think it had been photoshopped on, you might have been led to think Ophelia had been plucked out of a modelling catalogue. She certainly always presented as such. Her signature? Round tinted Gucci glasses and an eclectic bunch of rings that littered her fingers as much as space would allow. It suited her larger than life personality to a T.

As it turned out, Fia was one of the good ones.
Miro still remembered how she'd taken her under her wing when she'd first been initiated into the elite. Neither truly felt they fit in, accepted enough to wanna fuck, but not enough to be brought in from the fringes. It had been a nice surprise to find somebody she could relate to, and didn't mind her strong personality. Although she recalled Artemis hadn't shown quite as much excitement at the prospect.


"Huh, I- Sorry?" Miro Sputtered, straightening herself back onto the chair and pulling her hands off of the carpet which did, in fact, feel just as disgusting as she'd dreaded.

"Wow, thanks, Chuffed Fia , grinning deviously before unceremoniously shoving the phone back into Miros's red lace bra, Good to know that my brother's wife's affair isn't juicy enough for you."

"Oh calm my- your tits Fia, you know it's not like that." breathed Miro, " I've- I've just been distracted lately. Besides, just how many side chicks does HE have again?"

Fia looked like she was about smack Miro on the shoulders, when she got a strange look on her face,
"That is not the- Oh Em Gee. You are NOT still on THAT are you??"

"What? That your brother fucks like a rabbit in spring?" She mused, spitting in her hands and rubbing whatever evil concoction had gotten on them into the cushion of the loveseat, "I told you ten times already, I didn't mean to walk in on him and her- totally deserves eye bleach by the way. If I could go back in time I-"

"Okay first, ew. That's my brother." Interjected Fia, making a gagging motion to further cement her point, "And second, I meant that ladyboy of yours! I thought you said you were taking a break from that shit?"


Bullseye.
"What?! No- No I was- I AM! Why do you think I even came to this party?"
If Fia even partially believed her pathetic attempt at a cover up, she sure was good at hiding it. Instead, she plopped herself down next to her tall co-conspirator, making sure to avoid the side now covered in spit, leaned back and shot a furtive look at the couple in the corner, "Uh-Hun. Sure."

"Shut up bitch."

"Yeah, I love ya too Miro. Seriously though, that boy needs a kick in the teeth. Don't know why you bother so much. He's a downer, a good two shoes- smells kinda funky too. And with a fancy like that, no wonder people call him mis-"

"Don't." warned Miro.

"Fine." Fia withdrew, waving her hands in the air in mock surrender, "Fine- But you know I'm right. This level of worrying isn't healthy."


Miromesnil sighed, far too dramatically to be taken seriously as she slid down the back of her seat and sunk her lovely derriere into the cushion beneath. Fia thought she looked like a sulking child for a moment.
Miro knew Fia was right, but damn she hated admitting it. She'd come here to get her mind off of everything- Well that and to break Amy. But mostly the former! And it hadn't worked for shit. The music wasn't to her taste, Fia had to scream just to be heard over it, she swore she might lose her hearing, the alcohol was cheap and tasted like it- and everybody was just so… fucking boring. Same jokes, same parties, same drama. It was groundhog day all over. But these people, even if they seemed to have decided to squander their brains and bodies away, they could open doors. She just had to hang on a few more months- just until after graduation to help her get a job. Then she was out.



"Listen, you're not the one who had to spend a 'romantic evening' at damn HOOTERS with fish breath over there." She jagged her thumbs towards an especially well built young man currently crushing a beer can against his forehead, "And it was all for nothing!"

For months she'd been trying to convince Artemis to drop his pride and just try to get along with these folks. Months! Not because she'd expected he'd like them but because he was in no position to refuse even an ounce of help. Except he did. Every. Stinking. Time.

Miro had come to the conclusion that if he maybe, just maybe, talked to one of them and it went well, he might change his mind. And so she got to work pulling strings. She had to get him accepted by one of the most elite of the… well elite. Somebody nobody would question. And Rudy Callahan was just that. Dumb as a pile of rocks and just as physically thick. It had been common knowledge he'd had a thing for Miro for years by that point. She'd never given him the time of day, of course, he was anything but her type. And he smelled of fish. Miro hated seafood.

However, on the promise to go out with him for a date, she managed to persuade him to attempt to befriend Artemis. Fucks' sake, she even coached the guy! She'd spent far more hours than she'd ever intended to just teaching him all about World of Warcraft. From the classes, the backstory, the factions all the way to Artemis' favourite books! And this guy was thick. Did he have any idea how long that took? But, at least, she was sure that it would work!

That was until Artemis apparently took one look at Rudy and turned right back around.

"You know Rude only did that to get in your pants, right?" Fia chirped.

"Thanks Fia." Grumbled Miro, covering her face with her hands, "The most fucked up thing though? He didn't just screw himself over- His little stunt screwed ME over."

It was true. It hadn't just earned him the ire of those who had already looked down on him, it had reflected badly on Miro who had been trying to convince them he was an asset to have. She'd been on thin ice since, and Amy had been trying to find anything to go in for the kill. At least that was one issue solved.

"Yeaaaah. Plus I've heard Rudy over there has been angling to take you for a ride of his massive d-"

"THANK. YOU. FIA."

This was hopeless. She'd gotten what she'd came for and there was no point in tormenting herself further. Ever more so since with a glance to her left it looked like Luther had finally discovered how to unzip the back of Amys' dress.

"Aaaand I'm out." Miro huffed, jumping up so fast that Fia thought her phone would make a leap for freedom once again, "I'll see you at uni tomorrow. Anymore of this and my vagina might actually just shrivel up and die."

But Fia wasn't looking at her anymore. As a matter of fact, she'd gone a good shade paler, eyes almost as round as her glasses looking at something behind her.
"Holy- Holy shit." She stammered "Uh red, I think you might wanna put a rain check on that!"

Miro furrowed her brows somewhere between confusion and genuine worry. Nothing surprised Fia, so what the hell could be going on to get this reaction? Hand on her hips, she turned to get a look for herself.

"Why the hell would I want to stay any..." She trailed off as a distinctive flash of green hair only a few metres away caught her eye.

"Mother Fu-"

Black Dog- Post II​

⌘

A nightmare.

This was a nightmare. It had to be, right?
Miromesnil felt like her entire body had been frozen mid turn. Strands of velvet red hair caught in between her lips as she herself was prisoner to an unnatural stillness. All the while, the world around her just kept moving.
The pit in her stomach was getting ever stronger. Her breath felt stuck in her chest, as if spiderwebs had filled her lungs. The taste of bile began to burn the back of her throat and as loud as the music might have once been to her sensitive ears, it all suddenly felt too quiet. Too far away. Her eyes were wide as saucers but it was like she was watching through the small lens of an old television screen. And she couldn't tear her eyes away from it. From him.

A slim body, perhaps a bit too thin to be considered healthy, was a stark contrast to most of the men here. They, who in comparison, wore expensive designer shirts a size too small, so that they framed every bulging muscle. And amidst all the Guccis, Pradas and Valentinos, there was who she'd always considered to be a lamb among wolves. Same old white shirt. Same hand-me-down black jumper on top. Same old jeans, so tight that even she couldn't fit into them, and-
And high top sneakers she had gifted him last spring.
God, how he'd taken care of those things. They hardly looked used at all, clean as the day he unwrapped them. He'd looked so happy to get something new, smiled so wide she swore she could feel it in her chest. The same old outfit, the one kept cleanest in case of going out. In case he wanted to look…
Good.

Sharp canines dug into the inside of her cheek. It hurt. But it didn't hurt enough.
Nowhere near enough to distract her from seeing a womans' hands slowly snake around his neck, running her fingers through his luscious hair. Hair that only looked so good because she had helped him pick out the right products, the right masks and figure out the right ways to fucking style it.

Miro sucked in a searing breaths between her teeth, each one sharper than the last, knuckles turning white as her nails dug into her palms. No, there was no way that any of this was happening right now. Not right in front of her. She was RIGHT THERE, right in front of him, surely he could see her? He would never have dared. Never.

But he did. He had. And he was.
She was going to kill him.

A hand tentatively touched her shoulder.
It was light as a feather on her skin, but Miro snapped her head towards it as if she'd been shocked.
Fia flinched, but didn't move away. Miro's red eyes fixed her intently and Fias' soft brown doe eyes were cast upwards to meet her gaze, pitifully. She needed to focus on something else- since her pride was refusing to let her massage the sore muscle in her neck currently wailing in protest. She wasn't going to show an ounce of weakness, especially not now.
"Who is that?" Was all that Fia could utter, barely able to be heard over the music, whilst her eyes painted triangles as they darted from Miro, to Y/C to the girl now whispering into his ear.

She supposed she ought not to be shocked. Fia had dirt on just about anybody, if you were, in fact, somebody. But she wasn't majoring in game design like Miromesnil and Y/C had been. Fia was working in marketing and social media, her area of expertise. Miro couldn't even be sure the girl was in game design in the first place- but, if not there, where on earth would Y/C have met her? She knew him- he had always been too shy to actually go out of his way and make new friends. Hell, that was one of the reasons they were in this mess in the first place!

"Yeah right, she spat under her breath, Bastard said he hated parties too, and yet here we are."

"Huh?"
She'd almost forgotten Fia had been watching her watch him like a hawk, waiting with bated breath for a response. She cleared her throat.
"I'd like to know too, not that it fucking matters." she began, angling her body just enough so that she could get a better view of the girls' face, Her face rings a bell… Wait."

She did know her. That pink streak in her brown hair- those shoes that she always wore to uni. She was in their game design course, alway sitting at the back, always chewing on bubble gum or some other shit. …Right where Y/C had run off to.
Miro had never really paid much attention to her, or anybody else for that matter, but she'd heard the girl bragging a few times about how she hadn't needed to 'buy' her way into the uni, unlike so many others. She'd gotten in legitimately, on a scholarship. While it was true that many of the students here had their parents pay generous donations to be accepted( and to have 'misdemeanours' swept under the rug) something about the way she'd say it left a bad taste on her tongue.
A pride she hadn't quite earned to the right to possess.

She sneered, her red eyes like beacons of fury beneath the neon lights.
So that was it, was it? One fight and he moved on, not so much as trying to approach her again?
Out with the old and in with the new?

"She's in our course. Don't know her name but she's definitely not part of our crowd." she corrected, her gaze not leaving them for a second, "She's a scholarship kid. A nobody."
A nobody currently hanging off of her- his body like a tick to a dog.

Miro went very still. She wouldn't accept it.
He'd been coerced, tricked! There was no way he'd have come here of his own volition. And just to make out with a random girl of all things? She could see the girls' face but Y/C had his back turned to her. He must be disgusted with all this, he must not want to be here, must not be enjoying an ounce of the attention. THAT was the Y/C she knew, the Y/C he'd shown himself to be to her.
She'd go over there and prove it to herself. She'd rip that little cunt's tongue right out of her gaping mouth.

"Red." began Fia warily, "Red, I know that look. What are you thinking?"

She was right to be worried. It seemed Miro had finally regained herself, pushing her shoulders back and standing up to her full height, leaving her a good head and a half over Ophelia. One look at her and Fia had to swallow hard. Oh yes, she was smiling, and what a lovely smile it was- but it didn't quite reach her eyes. There was no warmth in her features, just a cold invitation to try your luck and meet her gaze. Rather like staring at a king cobra about to spit in your eye.
Miromesnil was just as venomous.

"You always say I should put my foot down more." She cooed, taking a long stride forward, I'm just following your excellent advice."
"Red don't!" Fia pleaded, taking multiple rapid steps just to keep up with her before putting herself between death row and executioner . Pressing her hands against each of Miro's shoulders, which she could barely reach for that matter, she tried, quite unsuccessfully, to keep Miro from advancing.
"Get out of my way Fia."
"This- this isn't worth it!" Fia sputtered, "If they see you care this much about HIM of all people- And not just that, but get jealous-"
"I am NOT jealo-"
"He'll ruin you, Red! Everything you -We have worked for! He's not worth it-"
"I don't care!" Miromesnil hissed.

"Hey ladies, what's are a pair of hotties like you NOT doing with a guy like me?"

"Oh so help me…" Whispered the redhead under her breath, running a hand over her face to hide her revulsion from what, or who, she knew was to come.

Rudy.
There stood a hulking shape of a man. Large feet, large frame… and a tiny head. His pants were so comically tight it looked like his head might pop off from where his neck met his Ralph Lauren shirt with the print of a woman…. Sucking off a man. Classy. He held two drinks in his large hand, but she'd be damned if she accepted anything from him. When the fuck had he even appeared?
He was quite possibly the last person she wanted to see right now, if ever; Only just barely the better option if the choice was between him and a pig. He flashed his unnaturally perfect smile at her, raising his free hand to fire fingers guns. And, in doing so, showing off the sweat stains close to reaching the hem of his shirt, not to mention that was sparing details of the fish smell.

No.
On second thought, she'd take the pig.

"What was that?" he asked, his far too small mouth puckering into what he surely thought to be a seductive glower as he spoke. She'd spend hours looking at that damn face. Watching him stare at any passing waitress' ass when he thought she wasn't looking. Eating like an animal, chewing loudly, speaking with his mouth full and showering her in spit and bits of food. She'd been picking bits out of her bra for hours after the ordeal. And he looked… so smug.
God, she just wanted to punch him right in his stupid fa-

"I said, oh boy, you got me!" Chirped Miro in such a sickly sweet tone (which did not match her visage)that she worried she might make herself sick. Fia, on the other hand, looked like she'd found god in that moment.

"Oh Rudy, look at you, Mr.Muscle!" she cheered, lightly punching his arm as he feigned pain, enjoying every moment of praise, "Miro and I were just about to come find you! Right Miro?"
If looks could kill, she'd be six feet under. Fia, funnily enough, kept her eyes glued to Rudys' face. It didn't matter. If Fia thought this would stop her, she sure hoped she wasn't holding her breath.

"Actually Rudy, I-" Began Miro, trying to keep line of sight with her real interest behind his all encompassing frame. He wasn't making it easy as he kept swaying from one side to another, clearly having had one glass too many himself.
"Well of course you were." Interrupted Rudy, "And here I am! It's your lucky day, Mirah. I got you a drink."
Miro glanced down, the liquid swished around ominously in the innocent little cup. He hadn't gotten one for Fia either. Her brows furrowed at the thought. Nope. No. No way she was touching that stuff. She knew better than that.

"No thanks Rudy, she answered politely, eyes still casting glances behind him with every other word, I've had enough."
This didn't seem to go over too well. His expression went from sultry, to shocked, to down right offended. This was his party- Nobody ever denied his offer for drinks at his parties! Fia, sensing this, which Miro had so masterfully ignored in lieu of peeking around his torso, rolled her eyes at Rudy, giving him a thumbs up. His face softened as the implication crossed his mind that she might be playing hard to get. That was it. She was classy like that.

"Ah come on, I insist!" He pressured, pushing the red cup up towards her lips in one jerking motion, some of the liquid spilling over the edge and onto her heels. He didn't seem to notice, or possibly care, "Just one won't kill ya. Especially in such… good company."

"Seriously Rudy, cheers, but I'm good" She snipped, barely giving the indignant boy a second look. With the way the crowd was moving about she had to concentrate just so she didn't lose those two in the swarm.
"Hey what are you- Well suck me off and call me daddy! Is that the little Mis?"
Rudy's guffaw earned a few curious looks from passerby, while he remained oblivious to Miromesnils body going stiff as a board. He continued, "Finally decided to grow a pair and join us at the big boy table. Wait, who invited him again?"
"It's a public party for the classes Rudy, you can't exactly exclude one person." Quipped Ophelia.
"Aw, yeah, right. Shame that." He whined, "So Miro, about that drink…"



But Miro wasn't paying attention anymore. Not to him. Not to Fia.
It was hard to see in the light, but blinking once, twice, three times did nothing to change what was going on before her. Y/C was kissing her back. Running his fingers down her sides, stopping only to hold onto her by the hips while she grinding herself against his leg like a cat in heat. He was enjoying it, he was partaking in it, he… Somewhere in the back of her mind there was a resounding snap of a door being ripped off its hinges. Their kisses were just as sloppy and inexperienced as the last session she's subjected herself to… except this time, it was neither disgust nor mild amusement pumping through her veins. It was Rage.

He was Kissing Her.

"Let's have a toast to Mis!"

He was Holding Her.

"Uh, Red?"

He had Chosen Her.

"Just one sip for your handsome host?"

And he had lied… To Her.

"Come on bitch, don't be a pussy, just take the damn-"
Rudy had been entirely unprepared for the force of the palm which slammed shut his jaw. Her hand had almost completely enveloped the facial portion of his tiny head, leaving him to squint through fingers as nails dug into his jaw and hairline. The poor boy didn't get a word out, not that he might have been able to, before she flung him, sending him sprawling onto the loveseat. Had its back not been resting against the wall, there was no doubt he would have landed face first into the carpet. Luckily for him, he was spared that- but it couldn't save him from tipping the contents of his drink down his obscene shirt.
"WHAT THE FU-"
Fia gasp, covering her mouth with her hands. Miro didn't spare him a glance.



It really did add insult to injury, she chimed piercingly to herself, how it hadn't taken her more than five long strides to reach them. Five long strides til she loomed over that cunt like hell itself had risen to greet them. And yet, she narrowed her bloody eyes, it seemed the pair were somewhat too 'preoccupied' to notice.
She'd fix that.

Reaching down she wrapped her slender fingers around Lisas' fragile neck. The poor girl didn't even react, beyond leaning into the hot touch. Oh, ignorance was such bliss. Miro caressed her almost sensually, getting a solid grip of her throat, before jerking her head back to look up at her. Lisas' eyes flew open in a mixture of horror and arousal, having to lean back into her ample breasts just so as not to fall, only to meet a pair of bloody pools. Miromesnil cooed appreciatively as Lisas' flushed cheeks lost their colour.
"Well, well, she purred, Now isn't this just… adorable."

Lisas' mouth moved so as to make a sound, but one cautionary squeeze stopped her dead in her tracks. Good. She'd seemed so sober up just enough to understand she'd speak when spoken to. At least one of them knew their fucking place.

"Tell me pretty lips, what's your name?" breathed Miro, making sure to hold the smaller girl in place against her.
"Li-Lisa."
"Oh, that's a lovely name. Now tell me, 'Li-Lisa' ..." She echoed, "...didn't your mummy ever teach you not to touch what isn't yours?"
"I- I…"
"You- You ?" She encouraged, running her thumb over Lisas' now trembling lower lip, lowering her face down to meet her until she was all the girl could see. In any other circumstance such a sight would have been intimate. And Miro knew nothing got the message across as a bit of fear and arousal as she drew her nail down Lisas' chin, leaving a blooming raw scratch in its wake.

"What? No! I'm so- so sorry." Sobbed Lisa, her mascara beginning to leave ugly streaks down her cheeks, "Please, I- He... I didn't- I didn't know!"

"Oh shh. Shh. It's alright, we all make mistakes, don't we? You just didn't know– And how could you? Nobody said a word." Miros' hot breath skimmed her skin, their noses mere torturous inches apart,"But Lisa… Pretty, sweet Lisa, you DO know better now, don't you?"
Amongst the trembling, she felt Lisas' furious nodding reverberated through her jaw and up her fingers. Miro smiled, a true self-satisfied smile. This was how it was meant to be. Her on top, and them writhing beneath. Giving one last squeeze for good measure, she returned Lisas' breathing room.
"Good girl." she soothed, releasing her tenderly from her grasp and steadying her still shivery form "Now…"


Lisa didn't need any encouragement. She quickly stumbled away, rather shakily since she'd clearly lost the feeling in her legs from the ordeal. She'd have to deal with her properly later, Miro noted, no way she was getting off that easily. But right now, she had at least one more parasite to take care of.

For the first time that night, his eyes met hers. God knows what he saw, looking up into her eyes, face cast in shadows from the overhead lights. He looked so small and unsteady on his feet. Part of her wanted nothing more than to take his hand and lead him out of here.
"As for you…" she reached out, taking one languidly slow step towards the now abandoned lost boy before her, fingers just barely grazing his soft cheeks. She couldn't help but enjoy how vulnerable he was, alone, out of his comfort zone. Nobody would come to help. For a moment she paused, letting her hand rest there, just taking in his drunken demeanour, the way he looked up at her with those big watery eyes like a fucking puppy. How his mouth parted as ragged breaths escaped them. Was it fear? Or something else?

Then her eyes travelled down towards a bulge against his tight little jeans. There was a flurried mess of red hair as she seized him by a fistful of his green locks, wrenching him behind her as she stormed away from the crowded room. Any protests were lost in the cacophony surrounding them and she was grateful finally for the majority of the guests being too high, drunk or stupid to notice. Even if they had heard him, she had little faith that she would have stopped. The devil himself would let her pass, if he knew what was good for him.
There was only one way to deal with a tick.

With each step down the hallway the music seemed to recede, just enough that he could hear her heels click violently against the marble floor. It was getting darker too, since nobody had seen fit to illuminate the halls, away from all the action. Perfect.
She was silent as the grave as she towed him in her shadow, head forced to look down as he scampered behind her, struggling to keep up. If he'd been saying anything to her, she hadn't bothered to pay attention. She was too busy looking for what she'd noticed coming in. From the corner of her eyes she spied it and stopped abruptly. A lone door hidden in the shadows of the hallway. This would do.
"After you, Princess." She ridiculed, lurching him in before smoothly stepping over the threshold herself.

It was dark, the air was stale and smelt vaguely of bleach. Old paint was peeling off the sides on the walls and bold discolouration marred the ground where mops, filled with chemicals, had been left to rest on the floor. Filthy. Good, the worse she could make this for him, the better.

There was barely enough room for them to stand side to side. Even with his slender back against the wall, where he'd caught himself, he was barely a metre beyond her. She could see his outline, his chest rising and falling frenziedly but his face was just beyond making out. That was fine. She didn't want to see him right now.
"You know, Y/C," She snarled, throwing her purse to the side, letting it clatter to the ground as she turned the locks' knob behind her with a resounding 'snap', "I like to think I'm a sensible woman."
He couldn't see her yet, but it sounded like her lips were turned up into a malicious pout, putting on a clearly exaggerated whine.


"I like to think I can tell a persons' worth, their intentions. A little… womanly intuition if you would."
He tried to get back up, tried to say something, but one strong shove to his chest had him right back in place. She pushed her hair out of her face as she fell upon him, shoving her thumb into his once again opened mouth, holding down his tongue to stop him as she curled her hand around his chin like a disobedient child. Her spare hand roughly rested against his abdomen, holding him down in case he should try to move.
"Ah-Ah-Ah." She tutted, gripping his chin harder and making him shake side to side, "Don't- Ah, don't interrupt me."

"So, I really should thank you. `Weren't you the one who said that failure was just a learning opportunity?" She got a step closer, the curve of her breast barely brushing his chest, her breath, tinted with a hint of her tonka perfume, kissed his lips, And gods, did I ever fail to see the real you."

"You little slut."

Miro closed the distance between them, shoving her knee in between his quivering legs and bringing her soft, generous thigh up to grind against his dick, rubbing him through the rough fabric of his jeans.
It was like somebody had flipped a switch and woken him right up. His entire body jumped against her, his breath hitched and altogether stopped. A gargled sound escaped his mouth as she felt his tongue struggle under her thumb. She didn't release him.

"Is this what you wanted? Is this what was worth giving up our friendship, you ungrateful parasite?" She snapped, pushing all of her bodys' weight down on him and he began to squirm under her, leaning in so that her lips were hardly an inch from his ear, every hot breath hitting it. She breathed a few times, enjoying the feeling of his body snapping to attention. Tortuously slowly she ran hot, soft kisses against his jaw, down his throat to the crook of his neck, egged on by the goosebumps that followed her path.

"Do You have any- ANY idea how much I did for you?"

He'd stopped trying to get up.
Now with a free hand, Miro slid it down from his chest to his waist, slowly tracing his bodyline with her nails until she reached the hem of his jeans. She was grateful for them being tight, she could see every pulse, every twitch- he might as well have been fully exposed to her. But she wouldn't give him that luxury.
Instead, she undid his buckle and slipped her hand in until she found what he had been hiding all these years. Running her nails gently down his length, teasing the pathetic heap beneath her she kept up her assault on his neck, leaving traces of hickeys to keep him company. More pleading moans erupted as she sucked on his supple skin. Her thumb pressed down harder. Her hot, soft hand cupped his growing bulge, giving it a light squeeze for good measure as precum dribbled down into her palm.
"Keep your voice down, you wouldn't have pretty little Li-Lisa to find us, now would you?" She started before pausing, a devilish smile spreading across her lips "Or maybe… you would?"

He didn't respond. She didn't like that.
"Not going to answer?"
Miro picked up her pace, wrapping her now lubed up hand tightly around him and giving him exactly what he deserved. Instead, it simply earned more repulsive sounds from both his filthy mouth and jeans. Disgusting. She bit down on the tender flesh of his shoulder, feeling him give another yelp under her. And again. And again. The tangy taste of copper reached her tongue as she slid it languidly over the teeth marks she'd left behind. He would remember, she'd make him remember. She'd make him hurt.

Except it had the opposite effect and he was now jackhammering his hips against her, thrusting his length against her soft, slick palm. This degenerate seemed to like it. The thought surprised her, revolted her and yet… she couldn't help but lick her lips as the sight.
"Hah- Look at you. You're not even listening to me anymore are you." She laughed joylessly, swallowing the red tint from her lips at the sight which now laid before her. He wasn't even trying to get away, too busy chasing his release. He was twitching so bad now, he might as well have been having a seizure.

"Doesn't matter who it is as long as you get your dick wet, huh?"
"Well, since you did something so nice for me…" she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear above the distant thumping of music and rhythmic squelching. "I'll be generous and do you one last favour. All you need to do… is ask for it."

She tightened her grip at the base of his cock, forming a ring with her thumb and index, refusing to stroke nor help him further.

"Aww were you getting close? Do you want mean, selfish Miro to make you cum?" she tormented softly, kissing tears pooling in the corner of his eyes, "Go on, use your big boy words, or I won't know what you want."

Slowly she removed her thumb from his mouth, dragging a trail of his saliva down his chin and she tilted his head to make him look her in the eyes. All she got was whimpering, to which she responded with a sharp slap. Fuck tenderness. This was what she came for. His total and unquestioned submission.

"Say it" She commanded, voice turning cold as ice.

Her eyes had adjusted to the dim light, she could finally see his messed up face, streaked with tears and drool. And he could probably see her too.
His mouth opened and closed a few times, gaping like a fish out of water, until finally,
"Pleaaaase, let me cum!!"

Miro leaned in, placing a single kiss on his gaping mouth and lolling tongue,
"Good boy."

She released him, slipped her other hand into his boxers, one running her fingers around his shaft and the other down to his balls where she gently played. He didn't last a moment. Jerking, spasming, near on screaming, he pushed himself against her, her red hair tangling with his sweat as she took his weight. Something hot and sticky spilt out into and all over her hand, getting in between each finger and under her nails. For a moment, she stood there, feeling him heave against her.
That was until she carelessly pushed him back, retracting her now sullied hands from his soaked underwear, which she proceeded to wipe on his black shirt as casually as if she'd just gotten ketchup on them.

She didn't need to say anything, he didn't deserve anything from her now. Except…
Her eyes fell upon a glint peeking out from her bag. Miro made a face, the kind you might when stepping in dog shit. She pulled out the tinted glasses he had given her so many years ago, gingerly unfolding them, and shoved them down his pants before turning on her heels to leave. She didn't need these anymore.

She was done.

Black Dog Alt - I​

⌘

Warmth swam down her throat, pooling in her chest just beneath the surface. Her every muscle tense and at attention. Oh to be the reason for those little cries.

What a delight.

The cat that caught the canary would be seething green with envy, should it have caught a glimpse of the simper parting her lips. Wide eyed and breathless, Luis seemed momentarily stunned by her appearance. Good.
Looming over him, catching every reaction with bated breath, she relished the thought that it was not a cat, but rather she, who'd gotten his tongue.
And her mouse was far more entertaining than any canary, she thought.

It took all of her willpower to not reach over and pinch his speckled rosy cheeks, snake her slender fingers through the curls of his hair in a teasing ruffle. Truly, Santevis mused as the soft sounds of Lo-Fi filled her ears, her restraint was remarkable. Yet, captive to her looming or no, there was little doubt this affection would not be appreciated. In fact, Santevis had little doubt she'd meet the tail-end of a thrown book and a rather nasty glare if she lived out her devious delights.

Luis, after all, had a chip on his shoulder. One the size of a fucking mountain, something even blind man could tell you. Not that most could blame him, he'd been tossed a rough hand of cards to play with. At least, he seemed to think so if his general lack of self-confidence was anything to go by.
She begged to differ.

In her eyes, Luis was so… lovely.
His tanned skin was a far cry from her pale, ghostly visage. So alive and vivid. While she stood marbled like a statue, his face was painted with constellations of soft freckles. If she was ice, then undeniably, he was spring. When he looked up at her through those rivulets of dark locks, his eyes peering at her softly, her defenses melted. She knew for a fact, she was not the only one.
Not that she'd ever tell him such things. Nor would he likely accept them as truthful.

What did her thoughts matter, when all he could see were three painful truths.
He was shorter than her. Weaker than her. And mocked, relentlessly, unlike her.

People could be so cruel.
She should know, a little voice answered in the back of her mind, Cruelty had become her bread and butter.

Something ugly writhed in the pit of her stomach; Uncomfortable and unwelcomed.
That wasn't true. She wasn't like them. Like Brandon who spent his entire teenage life looking for any excuse to shove kids into a cubby. Nor was she like Susan who would seduce and fuck newly taken men just for the hell of it. Just because of the challenge. Just because it made her feel good about herself.
Santevis felt a sneer begin to curl the corner of her mouth ever so slightly.

No. She did not hurt for the sake of it. The damage was only inflicted when it was warranted, needed. This was entirely different. There was a cause, an end in sight. She took no pleasure in unnecessarily hurting others.

And yet…
Glacial eyes bore into their umbral counterparts. The thought of tormenting him just a little. Just a bit. Just enough to see his eyes well up with frustration, his lips trembling as he barely held it together-

"Can you give those back? Was in the middle of something."

Arrogant little shit.
"Urgh, you're no fun." she taunted, leaning lazily into the fabric of her seat to stare at the dull white ceilings, her moment thoroughly ruined, "And here I was thinking you might be hiding away listening to audio porn."

It took less than a moment to see the effect of her words, peering down from the corner of her eyes.
"Teasing!" She added, scoffing at the look of horror creeping up his face, "Geez, don't look at me like that- I know you'd never."

Teasing him never got old.

The monitor gave off a dull glow in the gloomy corner of the library, casting light on the both of them as it was angled her way. Her chair gave a weak groan as she bent down to get a proper view of the screen and the environment currently caught behind its glass. Luis still had a ways to go, but it was looking good- would probably look far better with textures applied and, as he'd pointed out, lightning.
But honestly, Professor Rowan would look for any excuse to deduct points, the grouchy bastard.

"Please, don't remind me- I do NOT miss that prat. Sorry to hear you still have him! Hmmm, nice low Poly models though. The UVs look pretty good too- clean cuts, no stray vertices. Not bad, Lu." She observed, picking up the mouse and turning the scene around to closer study the current assets, "You know I have some leaf textures I made- you know, for my last semester's Flora project? Could throw 'em your way, save you a little time?"

Rowan wouldn't be able to make a fuss, even if he did notice. It wasn't unusual for students to collaborate, especially when it came to game design classes. Sound designers were forever pestering them for the chance to work together- it always helped their portfolios look better when they had visuals to go with their soundscapes and music. She herself had to bat off a few recently, although this never seemed to keep them away long. They were a weird but tenacious bunch.

When collaborative projects came around, they always seemed surprised by how good she was at modelling. Or how seriously she took her work. And take it seriously she did. In truth, she played the part of a shallow bitch to perfection, slipping under the radar of even the most profuse assholes with ease. There was, however, no denying that Santevis was nothing if not dedicated to her craft. Even the professors, many of whom frankly really couldn't stand her, had to admit her work was top notch. No corners cut. Luis however, never seemed to want to benefit- Something that greatly irked her.
And her pride.

Both their faces were swallowed in soft shadows as Luis closed his laptop. The music she'd found oddly satisfying came to a sudden halt, leaving a rather forlorn emptiness in its wake. Santevis huffed, her lips scrunching up into a pout as she removed his headphones, dangling them haphazardly in his direction on the tips of her fingers, "And what am I? Chop-suey? You know I could have helped you if you'd just asked, right? I'm way ahead of my summer program anyways."

Seeing Santevis giving Luis advice, offering help without a catch, might have looked utterly out of place with her being quite so decent. It was unnatural. That was until her eyes took on a mischievous glint, leaning her head softly in his direction, her tongue ghosting over her lips in amusement. Something had caught her attention. Or perhaps, a couple 'someones'.

"It's cute that you thought this was a good hideaway," She cooed, her eyes darting off into the distance and back,"Really though, you should probably know, I wasn't entirely joking. That is what people use this corner for."

Santevis jerked her thumb in the opposite direction, towards a darkened corner where one of the ceiling bulbs had gone out. Rows of untouched books, slowly but surely gathering dust, produced an almost perfect and gapless wall, only adding to the air of concealment to the passageways in between. Paper, as it turned out, was a marvellous sound-dampener. Yet, if you were quiet enough and knew to listen for it, there was in fact, oddly laboured breathing coming from the end of the rows.

Her eyes had never left him, too busy waiting for whatever reaction he would have. Of course he wouldn't have known of this, the poor innocent thing. Wiggling her eyebrows childishly at him, she sniggered,
"Who said romance is dead, heh?"

Santevis paused. A terrible thought crossed her mind.
"Watch this."

With an ease from years of practice, eyes gleaming with expectation, Santevis stretched out. Pressing her heel against his chair, she leant precariously in her seat, the back legs only just on the verge of tipping over. The motion caused her little black dress to ride up her thighs ever so slightly, revealing the top of her thigh height see-through stocking as she bellowed,
"GET A ROOM?!"

Almost instantly a horrified squeak echoed from down the row, books clattering to the ground as whomever had been called out bumped against the shelves in their desperation to escape with pride intact. It was soon followed by the sound of scurrying feet whilst a few furious shushes echoed from the entry-way mixed with some jovial jeers.
The walk of shame.

"Bet it was Juniors. It's always the juniors." She lulled derisively, her honeyed tone betraying her amusement as she angled her chair back down, bringing her back into his space. There really wasn't anything like causing a little fuss.

He caught her off guard with the mention of stalking him, her throat tightening slightly. Had that comic book, good for nothing bastard, sold her out? No. Surely not. He would never dare give up his precious date meal ticket. And he didn't have the balls to try pvp without her.
Santevis hummed, 'stalking' wasn't exactly wrong, per say. But only because he spent the entire time trying to avoid her recently, she justified. If anything it was really his own fault. Settled.

Santevis feigned a gasp, clutched her chest, wrinkling the thin fabric of her sundress as she reared back in mock horror.
"Stalker? Shit, you've found me out!" She bemoaned, furiously blinking as if to hold herself together, "How will my ego ever survive now that-"
Santevis paused, stopping to look herself up and down, "Oh wait no. Still hot. It's fine."

"Hah, "stalking", Please. I have a thousand better things to do with my time. I could just recognise your furious tapping from a mile away." she stretched out her legs, pushing herself along, and further away from him by her heels, "Maybe you just aren't as good at hiding as you think you are. You always did suck at hiding when I was the seeker."

"Hey now, you're making me sound like a slacker" She moaned, though truthfully his playful demeanor did set her mood to ease, I've only ever asked for help a handful of times you scrooge!"

He seemed to be in a good mood. Or better than she'd initially thought. Regardless, it was a positive sign that maybe her plan wouldn't go down in flames. Again. He could be so stuck up, so pig headed- She had to broach the topic gently.

"Well, as a matter of fact, I do want something from you. See, there's this party next week- Oi, don't roll your eyes at me." She chided, snapping her fingers before he could interrupt , "It's a bash for the entire class, no special guest list, no snobby food. Just a good old Uni party held by the school. Come with- It'll be fun!"

"C'mon, don't make me beg. It doesn't suit me."
She batted her eyelashes at him, a clear attempt at doe eyes- failing right out the bat.

"Live a little!"

​