#anyway i love girls and i love these girls and i may write this as a short fic eventually but no promises | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jd-loves-fiction · 1 day ago

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Hey there! I might have an oddly specific request, but like. I am craving a trope but I am too lazy to write anything myself. Feel free to not accept this :"D

Could you write maybe like a *micro* oneshot about Boothill finding his past lover (from before his planet got nuked), but here's the thing, the lover did an ftm transition, so Boothill may have not realised at first.

And secondly, there is a child. Boothill's, but he had no idea.

The circumstances under what they reconnect is up to you. Wether it's fluff or angst, also.

Thank you in advance, cool writer person!<3

🌑felt that first part😭 ALSO this idea is so good rAAAH I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT IIITT (idk if this sucks but i hope i did this wonderful idea justice my dear, i poured all my love into this ❤️)

ALSO ALSO listened to 'Would you fall in love with me again' on loop writing this cuz the vibes are immaculate :)

Warnings: Spoilers for Boothill's backstory, mention of reader pre-transition as 'her' once but by male descriptors everwhere else, I have no experience writing ftm reader's so forgive my ignorance and let me know if I did good if you can 🥺

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ��𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠

The saloon is lively, crowded, not Boothill’s usual scene but fate or whatever sorry god is in charge of his path brought him here. His mission is complete and he’s exhausted – so out drinking he goes, even though he can barely feel the drink’s effects anymore. He supposes it must be the principle of the thing, a sort of tradition that helps him not lose his mind along the way.

Boothill scans the room by instinct, seeing dancing couples fill the entire room up to the corners – some slowly, some so fast it’s as if the universe is about to implode. A flash of a memory stings at the back of his brain, but he ignores it.

“Uhm! Mister!” Chirps a high pitched voice from below, clearly directed at himself. Looking down he spots a chubby-faced little girl, at which he raises a brow. Why a girl her age would ever think to approach him of all people in the saloon, he cannot imagine.

“Can you help me up, please? I wanna ask for some water,” she asks, polite but determined.

“Oh, well of course little lady!” He responds, gently holding her up and placing her onto the stool, once the cloud of nostalgia is gone from before his eyes. She just looks so familiar… The particular shade of brown of her eyes–

“Thank you mister!” The girl says brightly, sitting all cute and proper as Boothill waves the barkeep over, “It’s no trouble. Whatcha doin’ here, anyway? Y’ain’t alone, right?”

“Oh no mister, I’m here with my papa!” She replies cheerfully, pointing to the center of the room where the most people gather. Between swaying bodies he finds who she points at – twirling a giggling old lady is who Boothill suspects is the girl’s ‘papa’.

The cyborg cowboy no longer has a heart, nor a chest really, but it feels as if it stops in that moment. You don't spot him yet, lost as you are in your own little world, twirling around as sweat builds at your hairline.

But to Boothill everyone else fades as the pieces click into place – a grassfield beneath a starry sky, the love of his life before him, his flesh and bone hands around her blushing face… your face… no matter how you’ve changed, it’s you, he’d recognize you anywhere.

He must be seeing ghosts, surely. The girl’s father must just look like you, that’s it, it has to be, you’re dead… you have to be.

But Boothill knows in his soul that it is. You’re right there, dancing without a care in the world, changed and yet the same.

“Mister?” The little girl to him again, grasping at one of his sleeves and he turns. Her eyes, that particular shade of brown… it’s his, from when he was still flesh and blood. His head hurts. He feels drunk and crazy, maybe he should stop drinking after missions.

“There you are! You should’ve told me you wanted to rest,” You lightheartedly tell the girl, panting as you wipe sweat from your brow. From this close he’s sure it’s you, but Boothill still feels a little crazy for his thoughts. “Made a friend–?!”

The moment your eyes meet his, Boothill is finally sure it’s you. And he can tell you remember him too. Both of you seem stuck in time, gazing at each other like you’ve seen a ghost, which maybe you have, all things considered. The both of you should be dead.

Your mouth opens to speak but no words come out and you’re aching for a glass of water of your own. He’s here, alive and…

“You’ve… changed.” Boothill says lamely – so many things he wants to say, things he should’ve said long ago, things he would’ve said if he knew you were alive all this time.

“S-So have you!” Your voice cracks as you gawk at him, “You’re all… metal?”

Boothill chuckles, nerves eased by the familiarity that settles over the two of you – seems you haven't changed where it counts. “Yeah… it’s a long story.”

“Well, all I have is time.” He can tell you’re still upset with him, perhaps you will be for a while– heck! He’s upset with himself! He should’ve gone back for you, checked, double checked, triple checked!

“Just tell me one thing first;” The cyborg asks, watching as the girl sprints off towards who he assumes is a friend of hers, “Is she…” he points at himself.

“... Yeah. Her name’s Julia.” You tell him, sitting where she was, shoulders still tense as you watch him closely. He’s still as handsome as always, more rugged perhaps, more tired and grim, but the sight of his face still makes your heart stutter with affection.

Boothill sighs heavily at the information, like the air’s been punched from his lungs, slumping over the bar and covering his eyes. You, alone as your planet burned while he went off to punish the ones who did it, was a heartbreaking enough picture to paint, but with a child? His child?

If they hadn't taken his tear ducts, he’d be filling the saloon up to the ceiling with his tears.

“Hey now, you can cry about it later, ok?” You say awkwardly, knowing you might start crying too if he does.

He does as you ask, finally raising his head to look at you properly. You’re as beautiful as he remembers, of course you are. You could never stop looking so unfairly stunning to him, never.

Squirming in place as his cybernetic lock onto you, you feel the need to fill the empty space between you – as much as you wish to act like nothing had changed, a lot had, “How did you… recognize me?”

He finds it to be an odd question, of course he’d recognize you, yours is the only face he seems when he closes his eyes, haunting the few dreams he does have like a siren’s song beckoning him to linger within the memories of a better life before he became what he is now, “Y’haven’t changed that much.”

You blink at him, suddenly self-conscious, “... haven't I?”

Oh no, you look upset. He should’ve just said what he was thinking instead of whatever that was, “I– I didn't mean it like– I mean, you look great! Fudge I–”

You’re laughing, open and bright and lovely. Laughing at him no doubt, but laughing, “W-what– why do you– Fudge?”

“Ah, well, that’s part of that long story I told ya’bout.” He replies bashfully, because yeah, it would be strange to hear that coming out of his mouth to you.

Catching your breath and wiping the tears from your eyes, you smile fondly at the cowboy, “Sounds to me like we have some catching up to do.”

The farm boy in him wishes still that nothing had changed, that he could wake up from his dream and lay in the field beneath the stars again, hold you against his warm chest like always and have no IPC blood caked under his metaphorical nails, only dirt and sand from a hard day’s work. But the galaxy ranger he is now likes it better this way – change is inevitable and all things considered, this is one of the more fortunate outcomes of your story.

You’ve both changed, but not where really it counts.

“That we do, sweetheart.”

#hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x ftm reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #boothill #boothill x reader #hsr boothill #boothill honkai star rail #boothill x you #boothill x y/n #hsr boothil #star rail #honkai starrail #honkai sr #ftm reader

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agentstarkid · 1 day ago

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TENGO UN CORAZÓN QUE ESTÁ PERDIENDO LA CABEZA ✦ DR3

✦ PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ CHECKERED FLAG: 7.7K words

✦ TRACK LIMITS: yearning, angst, tenderness, fondness, found family (I guess?), 2-year-old menace, spanish and portuguese are spoken, complicated feelings, Daniel interacting with a toddler—hormones and uterus could experience feelings a lil bit (mine did ngl).

✦ MAY'S RADIO: Two chapters in less than a month? Who am I?? 🤭 All I gotta say is that Iza is my MVP because she took matters into her own (tiny) hands! It was so much fun writing her personality, I based her on my niece who's a mini tornado herself 😆 Also, a few weeks ago I made moodboards and headcanons for The Girls™, gonna leave the links below if you wanna know them even more <3. Anyways, I'm excited for this chapter!!! Hope you guys like it 💛

Part of The Joker & The Queen series | Set at the end of Revenant.

Divider by: cafekitsune

Meet: Fiorella | Vittoria | Danna

< previous | series masterlist | general masterlist |

Little traitor.

The thought repeats in your head like a mantra as you glance at the 35-inch whirlwind currently glued to Daniel’s leg. Iza’s bright giggles echo through the room, and her tiny hands clutch his shorts like he’s her favorite person in the world—which, admittedly, isn’t far from the truth. She’s always been attached to her godfather. But today? Today, she seems to be on a mission to play matchmaker in her two-year-old way, blissfully unaware of the tension crackling between her chosen victims.

Ever since your flight landed a little over four hours ago, it’s been one emotional ambush after another, all orchestrated by Miss Izabele Abigail Sousa-Allen. She decided you wouldn’t have a moment of peace during your visit, dragging you and Daniel into joint tea parties, coloring sessions, and even a very competitive game of hide-and-seek where she demanded you both hide together.

(How could you say no to her when she looked at you with her little frown and pouty lips, tiny arms crossed demanding you to do what she wanted? It was adorable and scary at the same time—have you experienced the wrath of a 2-years-old? Definitely not recommended.)

And now, as she tugged on Daniel’s hand and yours simultaneously, her intentions became crystal clear.

“Again!” she demanded, her big brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “All three!”

Vitto, hovering nearby, let out a resigned sigh. “Iza, maybe Tia and Tio need a break—”

“No break!” she interrupted, stomping her little foot for emphasis. Like previously said, her determination was adorable and terrifying all at once. “Together!”

You catched Vitto’s apologetic glance as she scooped Iza up in her arms, trying to wrangle her away. “Bebê, let’s give them some space, okay? Maybe they need a little break to rest," Vitto said with a gentle smile, trying to redirect Iza’s enthusiasm.

Iza frowned, her little brows furrowing as she processed her mom’s words. “But they do nothing,” she said earnestly, her tone filled with the simple logic only a child could muster.

You stifled a laugh, pressing your lips together as Daniel scratched the back of his neck, clearly at a loss for words.

“Well,” Vitto tried again, shifting tactics, “grown-ups get tired faster, bebê. Why don’t you let them rest while we do something fun? Like bake your birthday cake?”

Iza’s face lit up at the mention of cake. “pinkles?” she asked, her tone suddenly bright and hopeful.

“Of course,” Andrew chimed in from the doorway, already rolling up his sleeves. “All the sprinkles you want, my little love.”

That was all it took. Iza squealed in delight, her earlier mission forgotten as she wiggled free from Vitto’s arms, her tiny feet pattering across the floor. Her and Andrew followed closely behind—with the Brazilian in the rearguard, who sent you a look over her shoulder letting you know she was sorry—leaving you and Daniel alone in the living room once again.

Where the hell was everyone else in this house?

‘We’ll make sure it’s all smooth for you’ yeah, sure.

(A house full of traitors.)

The silence that settled felt heavy, the absence of Iza’s chatter amplifying the slight tension between you. You shifted awkwardly, biting the inner skin of your cheek, unsure whether to laugh or bolt.

“She’s persistent,” Daniel finally said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You nodded, crossing your arms in a feeble attempt to shield yourself. “She gets it from Vitto.”

“She’s also got great timing,” Daniel said with a soft chuckle.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. “She always knows how to make things… interesting.”

Daniel nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. “She’s grown a lot. It’s hard to believe she’s already two.”

“Almost two,” you corrected, glancing toward the kitchen where laughter and the clatter of mixing bowls filled the air. “Feels like just yesterday she was a tiny little human. Uh, I mean she’s still tiny but-” you rushed to clarify. (Why? the fuck if you knew. Great, if this is how the whole week is gonna turn out as then you were in for the time of your life—Take a deep breath, don’t let it get to you.) “you know what I meant.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on you now instead of the kitchen. “Time flies.”

You met his eyes briefly, but the weight of his stare was too much. You looked away, pretending to adjust a cushion on the couch. “Well, she’s definitely keeping us on our toes.”

“That’s Iza for you,” he said with a small smile, his voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place—nostalgia, maybe? Were you reading too much into it? most likely.

Before you could respond, a loud crash came from the kitchen, followed by Iza’s giggles and Andrew’s exasperated, “Iza, baby, no! Not the whole bag of sprinkles!”

You both laughed, the sound easing some of the tension between you. For a brief moment, it felt like old times—before everything got complicated. But just as quickly, reality crept back in, and the apparent unshakeable tension hung heavily in the air once more.

You cleared your throat, straightening up as if that would physically distance you from the awkwardness. “Well,” you began, your voice deliberately light, “I should probably go and take a shower before the little hurricane comes back and ropes us into another game. Or something worse.” you said quickly, glancing toward the hallway. “Anyway, I’ll see you around.”

You turned before he could respond, hoping to escape whatever this was. His quiet laugh followed you as you reached the doorframe.

Your name was voiced and you paused, your hand resting on the doorframe. For a second, you debated pretending you didn’t hear him, but curiosity—or maybe something deeper—got the better of you.

You turned to face him, your expression carefully neutral. “Yeah?”

He hesitated, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for the right words, his usual confidence replaced with something more. “I just… I’m glad you’re here.”

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. Finally, you managed a small smile. “Me too,” you said softly, though whether it was entirely true, you weren’t sure.

As you walked down the hall, the distant sound of Iza’s giggles were a welcome distraction. But no matter how hard you tried to focus on anything else, the weight of those four words followed you, their meaning tugging at a part of you you weren’t ready to face yet.

You wandered through the halls of the mediterranean-style house fresh out of the shower, focused on typing frantically in the groupchat, when the hallway ended abruptly—well, not ended, more like it got obstructed making you drop your phone in the process.

“Sorry, sorry,” you heard followed by a chuckle, “didn’t see ya.”

You looked up to the talking wall just to find a radiant smile and crinkled eyes staring back at you. “Oh, no, no, it was my fault,” you rushed to say, bending down to pick up the phone, “should’ve paid more attention.”

For a moment, you didn’t move—your eyes locked on the inked skin that entered your sight as he reached for the mobile, too. The number 3 on his pinkie, the treble clef on his wrist, and the veins running down his hand, tracing a path up his forearm and disappearing beneath the sleeve of his shirt. It was stupid how familiar they were, how easily they could pull you back into memories you weren’t ready to relive.

(or that you shouldn’t relive, for that matter.)

Daniel noticed. Of course, he did.

When you lifted your eyes and met his stare fixed already on you, you could feel the warmth creeping up your neck to your face. But instead of a cocky grin, as you expected, his expression softened, and for a moment his eyes roamed your face as if he was studying and memorizing it before he cleared his throat.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter than before, almost hesitant.

You blinked, forcing yourself out of whatever moment you had just fallen into. “Yeah,” you said quickly, gripping your phone a little tighter. “Just… distracted.”

He nodded, not pushing, though his eyes lingered on you for a second longer. “Guess I should’ve been watching where I was going too,” he admitted, stepping back to give you space. “Didn’t mean to, you know—” he gestured vaguely toward where you had collided “—block your way.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him, brushing a hand through your damp hair. “this your room?” you pointed to the door he just came out of. (Geez, why would you even ask him that?.)

“Huh? oh.” he chuckled softly, a hand absentmindedly rubbing his neck. “Yeah, yeah. It’s uh- It’s been my unofficial room since they moved here”

“Oh, nice.” you nodded, and an awkward silence fell over the two. Why was it so awkward to have a conversation when a month ago at the wedding you guys got to have a normal one?—admittedly it wasn’t a walk in the park, but it wasn’t as painfully awkward as now. “Well, I should go find Fio and Danna, see what they’re up to. Apparently, they were checking out the new fruit stand on the next block,” you added, playfully rolling your eyes.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, “Yeah. They've been out for a while. Probably causing trouble. Bet Danna’s already made friends with the owner.”

“Probably,” you agreed with a smirk. “And Fio’s probably negotiating the price of fruits like it’s a business deal.”

Daniel’s lips twitched into a fond smile. “Some things never change.”

You nodded back, offering a quick smile before you both turned the corner, your heart drumming a little too loudly in your chest.

Damn it.

Neither of you said anything as you made your way toward the living room, where the little hurricane stood in front of the TV, mesmerized by a colorful kid’s show about a farmer and his animals. Andrew was sprawled out on the sofa, lazily typing on his phone, and from the kitchen, bursts of feminine laughter spilled into the space.

At the sound of your footsteps, Andy looked up, his eyes flickering between you and Daniel in a quick, almost imperceptible movement. Then, as if deciding not to comment, he simply nodded toward the kitchen. “Girls are in there,” he said.

You didn’t need to be told twice. “Thanks,” you muttered, seizing the chance to slip away while Daniel moved to take a seat next to him.

Iza, still planted in front of the TV, was now dressed in pink pajamas, her hair styled into two tiny space buns, and—most curiously—a backpack with a cute cow face strapped onto her shoulders.

(Apparently, she had decided, out of the blue, that pajamas were the outfit of choice for the evening.)

Daniel leaned back against the couch, a small, amused smile playing on his lips as he took in Iza’s new look. “Nice fit, princess,” he mused, watching as she clutched absentmindedly the straps of her tiny backpack with little hands.

Iza, without turning away from the TV, rocked back and forth on her heels to the rhythm of the kid’s song before finally glancing over at them. “Pajamas,” she stated matter-of-factly, as if that alone explained everything.

Andrew snorted, setting his phone down. “She threw a whole speech about why she needed to wear them now. Something about the cow backpack and how they match.”

Daniel hummed, nodding solemnly. “Well, can’t argue with that logic.”

Iza gave him a satisfied look before shifting her attention fully to them. Her big brown eyes flickered between the two men, her little mind clearly working through something. Then, with all the dramatic energy a nearly-two-year-old could muster, she clapped her hands together and ran, throwing her little body face down over the space between them. “Okay.”

Daniel and Andrew exchanged a glance. “Okay… what, baby?” Andy asked warily, rubbing her back.

She pointed at them, then at the TV. “You watch Bluey now.”

Daniel chuckled, raising a brow at Andrew. “Guess we don’t have a choice.”

Andrew sighed, rubbing his face. “Nope. None at all.”

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, you leaned against the counter, watching as Fio animatedly recounted their fruit stand adventure with Danna to Vitto.

“—and then I told the guy, ‘No way you’re selling those mangoes for that price.’ I mean, I respect a hustle, but come on. You can get better and bigger ones for half that back home in PR,” Fio huffed, shaking her head as she dramatically recounted the story.

Danna shook her head, laughing. “You’re actually insufferable.”

“You’re welcome,” Fio shot back with a grin before noticing you. “Ah, there she is. Survived your little playdate?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Barely.”

Vitto, ever observant, arched a brow. “Daniel still being… Daniel?”

You hesitated, not really sure how to answer that. “He’s… I don’t know. He’s different. But also, not? It’s weird.”

Fio furrowed her brows and narrowed her eyes. “Weird how?”

“Chill, Rambo, no need to kill anyone.” A short, humored laugh escaped you as you sat on one of the counter stools. You exhaled, crossing your arms. “Like… he’s trying. But not in a way that makes it obvious. It’s subtle, like he wants to be careful.”

Danna raised an eyebrow. “Careful because of you or careful because of Rúben?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? You weren’t sure you had the answer.

The weight of Danna’s question settled between you all, unspoken yet heavy. You busied yourself by reaching for a slice of mango from the bowl on the counter, chewing thoughtfully.

“I don’t know,” you admitted finally, voice quieter. “Maybe both.”

Fio watched you closely, then sighed. “That man still loves you.”

You shot her a look. “Fio—”

“What? I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.” She gestured vaguely around the kitchen, earning a few exchanged glances from Vitto and Danna. “You’re over here acting like it’s some great mystery when it’s not.”

Danna, ever the voice of reason, leaned on the counter. “Okay, but does it even matter? He had his chance. And you moved on.”

Moved on. Right.

You nodded, as if agreeing, but something about those words settled uncomfortably in your chest.

Vitto, sensing the shift in your mood, quickly changed the subject. “Alright, enough about that. Let’s talk about something that doesn’t involve a walking emotional landmine.” She smirked. “Like what we’re doing for Iza’s birthday.”

Grateful for the out, you straightened. “Please tell me we’re not doing another ‘Iza commands us all’ day like the last Día de los Niños.”

Danna groaned. “God, no. I’m still recovering from the endless rounds of hide and seek.”

Fio grinned. “Joke’s on you, I actually enjoyed that.”

Laughter filled the kitchen as the conversation shifted to party planning, decorations, and the ridiculous number of snacks Iza had requested. For a moment, the tension from earlier faded into the background.

But even as you laughed along, the thought lingered in your mind—Daniel was being careful. With you. With himself. With whatever was left between you.

And you weren’t sure if that was better or worse.

Suddenly, the sound of tiny, determined footsteps filled the kitchen, and in the next second, Iza came barreling in, running straight to Vitto’s legs. She clung to her mother, her little arms wrapping around as much as she could reach.

“Mamãe, uppie!” she demanded, bouncing on her toes and her little arms reaching towards her.

Vitto chuckled, effortlessly scooping her up. “You’re getting too big, meu amor,” she teased, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek.

Iza, completely ignoring the comment, turned her attention to the counter, where the bowl of mangoes sat. She stretched her tiny arms toward it, fingers wiggling with determination. “Quero!”

“What do we say when we want something, Izabele?” Vitto pulled her away from the counter, giving her the mom look.

“Pweeeeeeeease” she said, tilting her head with doe eyes and a big, innocent smile.

Danna, being the closest, plucked a slice from the bowl and held it out. “Here you go, honey.”

Iza’s eyes lit up, “Fank yoo!” She eagerly grabbed the mango, taking a big bite. Juice instantly dribbled down her chin, but she was too busy enjoying the fruit to care.

Vitto shook her head fondly, grabbing a napkin to dab at her daughter’s face. “Ai, Iza…”

Fio watched the scene with amusement before nudging Iza’s little foot. “Alright, troublemaker, what’s the plan for your big day? What does the birthday girl want to do?”

Iza, still chewing, blinked at them before swallowing dramatically. She then grinned, her excitement bubbling over. “O aquário!”

Danna and Fio exchanged a look, while you looked at the little hurricane fondly.

“The aquarium?” Vitto clarified, adjusting Iza on her hip.

Iza nodded enthusiastically. “Sim! Fishies!”

Fio smirked, leaning toward you. “Guess we’re hanging out with fish.”

You laughed softly, brushing a few stray curls from Iza’s forehead. “Better than another hide-and-seek marathon.” Then, tilting your head at the little girl's mom, you added, “By the way, her bilingual skills are getting really good. At this rate, I think she expresses herself better in Portuguese than in English.”

Vitto let out a laugh, bouncing Iza lightly in her arms. “She might, yeah.” A mischievous glint flickered in her eyes. “I may or may not encourage her to speak more Portuguese when Andy isn’t around.”

Fio gasped dramatically. “You’re sabotaging your own baby daddy?”

Danna smirked. “No wonder she sounds like a tiny Brazilian grandma sometimes.”

Vitto shrugged, unbothered. “It’s funny. Especially when she talks to him in full Portuguese, and he just stares at her like she’s casting a spell.”

You burst out laughing at the mental image. “Please tell me you have videos.”

Vitto smirked. “Obviously.”

Just then, Iza pointed a tiny finger at her mom’s face. “Mamãe, peixe!” she demanded, reminding them of her plans.

Vitto sighed dramatically, adjusting Iza on her hip. “Alright, xuxú, how about this—we go to the aquarium after your birthday party? That way, we have the whole day to see all the fish. Sound good?”

Iza blinked, processing the deal.

“In the meantime,” Vitto continued smoothly, “we can go on a little adventure today.”

Iza’s interest visibly piqued, her tiny eyebrows raising. “’Ventura?”

“Yes, an adventure!” Vitto nodded, playing into the excitement. “We need to go to the market and find all the special ingredients for Mamãe’s coxinhas. And maybe… just maybe… there are some big, juicy mangoes waiting for you there.”

At the mention of mangoes, Iza lit up like a firework. “Manga?!”

You exchanged a knowing look with Fio and Danna. The kid was officially sold.

“Yes, manga,” Vitto confirmed, grinning. “But first, you need to go change out of your pajamas, okay?”

Before Vitto could even set her down, Iza was already wiggling to be put on the floor. The moment her feet touched the ground, she bolted out of the kitchen. “Papai! Unkie Nanel! ’Ventura!”

You all watched her disappear, her little voice echoing down the hall.

Vitto shook her head with a soft chuckle. “They better not put her in something ridiculous.”

“Oh, they absolutely will,” Danna deadpanned.

A few minutes later, Iza came sprinting back into the kitchen—now fully dressed head to toe in custom-made Enchanté apparel, a tiny washed-red cap, a crisp white shirt, and green shorts that gave her the appearance of a little explorer. Her curls peeked out from under the cap, her big eyes shining with excitement as she spread her arms wide, striking a dramatic pose.

And you couldn't lie—she looked adorable.

“I be Unkie Nanel!” She declared proudly.

And right behind her, sauntering in with the most shit-eating grin you’d ever seen, was Daniel. His hands were tucked into his pockets, and he was watching Iza with a fondness that made something shift in your chest.

“Oh my God,” Fio wheezed. “You turned her into a walking billboard.”

Daniel, utterly unbothered, crouched down next to Iza and tapped her tiny cap. “Gotta start ‘em young,” he said with a smirk.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “You look way cooler than Uncle Daniel, bubba.”

Daniel placed a dramatic hand on his chest, feigning offense. “Excuse me, Iza, are you just gonna let her disrespect us like that?”

Iza giggled and grabbed his hand, squeezing it in reassurance as if she actually understood the teasing.

You should’ve looked away, walked off, said something sarcastic to break the moment. But you didn’t.

Instead, your gaze lingered.

Watching him with her—how effortlessly he fit into this role, how natural it was for him to give Iza his full attention, how she adored him in return—made something ache deep inside you.

You hated it.

(And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t.)

Andrew, who had been observing the whole scene from the counter where he was slicing some fruit, finally spoke up.

“She does look cooler than you, mate,” he teased Daniel with a smirk, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth. “Might have to start calling her ‘Little Nanel’ from now on.”

Iza gasped excitedly. “Litto Nanel!” she repeated, absolutely thrilled with the new nickname.

Daniel shot Andrew a playful glare. “Thanks for that, Andy. Really appreciate it.”

Andrew shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. “Just saying, man, she pulls off the look better than you ever did.”

Before Daniel could retaliate, Danna, who had been watching the interaction with a knowing smile, suddenly perked up. “Wait, where’s Blake? He’s usually attached to your hip like an overgrown koala.”

Daniel chuckled, shaking his head. “He had a stopover in Miami to visit a friend. His flight got delayed, so he’s getting here later today.”

Fio let out a dramatic sigh. “So, what I’m hearing is that we won’t have our favorite Aussie for the first half of the day? Tragic.”

Daniel scoffed, playing along. “Wow. Love the support, guys.”

Andrew patted his shoulder. “You know you’re only third favorite, right?”

Daniel rolled his eyes, but there was a warmth to his smile that made it hard to tease him too much. “Wait. Who’s the second?” he tilted his head and frowned.

“Scotty.” was answered in unison.

Daniel let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. Betrayed by my own people.”

Andrew smirked. “Hey, man, Scotty’s just got that wholesome golden retriever energy. And he can do some cool tricks in the snow. Hard to compete.”

Fio nodded. “Yeah, and you? You’re more like…” she trailed off, pretending to think.

“A chaotic raccoon,” Danna finished with a grin.

Daniel gasped, placing a hand over his heart. “A raccoon? I’m the Honey Badger.”

Fio snorted. “Nah, you’re definitely more raccoon-coded.”

As they continued to joke around, you tried to distract yourself from the way your stomach flipped watching Daniel interact with your people once again—specially the toddler.

Vitto sighed with a fond smile on her face, pressing a kiss to Iza’s forehead. “Alright, Unkie Nanel Jr., let’s go get those mangoes.” She turned back to you all. “C’mon everybody, let’s get moving before this one decides she’s in charge of the whole itinerary.”

“She already is,” Danna muttered, grabbing her drink.

“Facts,” Fio agreed, grabbing her keys.

He had always been good with kids—that was nothing new. But something about seeing him with Iza, the way he knelt down when she tugged at his shorts, how he patiently listened when she babbled about some cartoon you didn’t recognize, the way he let her climb onto his lap without hesitation—it made conflicting feelings bloom in your chest.

And it was messing with you.

You shook your head, trying to focus on something else. Anything else.

The morning was spent wandering around Ojai, stopping by vibrant farmer’s markets where stalls overflowed with fresh produce, handcrafted trinkets, and the scent of sizzling food. Iza sat happily on Andrew’s shoulders, pointing at different fruits and flowers, her tiny fingers reaching out excitedly every time she spotted something new. She made sure everyone took turns holding her hand as they walked, but most often, she sought out you and Daniel.

When you decided that the park was the next destination, the little hurricane was unstoppable. She ran from one end to the other, determined to get every single one of you involved in her games. It started with a simple game of tag, where she would giggle uncontrollably as Andrew pretended to be a big scary monster chasing after her, only to collapse dramatically whenever she tagged him back.

But the moment she spotted a couple of older kids being swung between their parents’ hands, her attention shifted entirely. She ran straight to you and Daniel, grabbing each of your hands in hers.

“I go high! Up, up!” she demanded, bouncing on her toes.

Daniel chuckled, exchanging a glance with you. “You ready for this?”

You exhaled, forcing a small smile. “Let’s do it.”

And so, with a countdown, the two of you lifted her off the ground, swinging her between you as she shrieked with joy. Again and again, she begged for “Mo’ mo’ mo’, pwease!,” her little legs kicking in the air each time she went up.

Fio snapped a picture at one point, sending you a knowing look that you chose to ignore.

Between the laughter, the bright sun, and the easy moments, it almost felt like nothing had changed. Like things weren’t complicated.

Almost.

But reality had a way of creeping in, no matter how much you tried to push it back.

As the morning stretched into the early afternoon, the group found themselves sprawled out on the grass, taking a much-needed break from Iza’s endless energy. She sat cross-legged in the middle, happily munching on a piece of mango Vitto had bought from the market.

Andrew was leaning back on his elbows, sunglasses on, looking every bit like a dad on his day off. “I swear, I don’t know where she gets this energy from. It’s like she recharges by the second.”

“She’s literally your child,” Danna pointed out, sipping from her Iced Matcha Latte.

Vitto snorted. “No, she’s my child. That’s why she’s like this.”

Daniel, who was lying on his side next to Iza, propped himself up on an elbow. “I dunno, she might just be an evolution of both of you. Maximum chaos unlocked.”

Danna hummed, tilting her head as she watched Iza try to feed her uncle what was left of her slice, and Daniel pretended to eat her hand making her squeal and giggle. “You know, if she’s maximum chaos, I can’t even imagine what your kids would be like, Danny.”

That got everyone’s attention.

Andrew snorted. “Oh man. They’d be little menaces. Just picture a tiny Ricciardo running around, making dumb jokes, riding dirt bikes, getting into trouble, grinning through it all.”

Daniel let out a laugh, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The moment the word kids left Danna’s mouth, his gaze flickered—almost instinctively—to you.

It was quick, but you caught it.

Because how could you not?

You swallowed and forced a chuckle, keeping your expression neutral as you turned your attention back to Iza, who was now attempting to balance a mango slice on her nose. “Lord have mercy on their mom,” you said with a dramatic sigh, shaking your head.

Daniel let out a breathy laugh, but there was something behind it—something wistful. “Yeah?” he shot back, tilting his head at you. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, trying to guess which way this was going to go. “Guess she’d have to be someone really special to handle all that chaos.”

His words were playful, but the weight behind them was impossible to ignore. There was something charged in the way he said it—like he wasn’t just talking about some hypothetical her. Like maybe, just maybe, he still pictured you in that role.

Your grip tightened slightly on your cup of fresh juice, but before you could find a response, Fio cut in with a teasing grin. “Special or completely insane.”

The group laughed, the moment breaking, but the way Daniel was still looking at you—like he was thinking of all the things left unsaid—lingered.

A bitter feeling bloomed in your chest before you could stop it. You didn’t even mean for it to happen, but the name was already forming in your mind.

You hated that it still got to you. That, even after all this time, it could still stir something ugly in the pit of your stomach. You had no right to feel this way, not when you were with someone else—not when you were supposed to have moved on.

You should have let the moment go but the words left your lips before you could think twice. “Poor Heidi.”

Daniel didn’t react right away. He just looked at you, a flicker of something crossing his face—understanding, maybe. Amusement. Or maybe it was just all in your head.

Then he smiled, small and almost... resigned. “Not really.”

You blinked, taken aback.

“She, uh—” He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “We broke up.”

Your stomach flipped.

“Oh,” was all you could manage.

Silence.

The kind that stretched too long, felt too loud despite the lack of words.

You felt it the second the shift happened, a wave rolling through the group as everyone collectively processed what he had just said.

Daniel and Heidi were over.

(You tried to suppress the blooming feeling of elation at the news.)

Everyone knew what that would've meant before. Before everything changed. Before Rúben.

You didn’t look at anyone, but you felt the weight of their stares. Danna, Fio, Vitto—your best friends—all processing the same realization, all probably having the same conflicting thoughts, all silently worrying about you.

You kept your expression carefully neutral, forcing a small shrug. “Sorry.”

Daniel just hummed in response.

And yet, in the heavy silence that followed, you could hear everything neither of you dared to say.

You exhaled, focusing on Iza instead. The little girl, who was still buzzing with excitement, had stood up, and was a few paces away from the group twirling in circles before dramatically collapsing onto the ground with a giggle.

Daniel stretched out next to you now that the toddler wasn't occupying the place in between you both, propping himself up on his elbows as well. There was still something unreadable in his demeanor, like his thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

Fio, never one to let things go unsaid for too long, gave Daniel a sideways glance. “And what about you?” she asked casually, but there was something deliberate in the way she posed the question. “Now that you’re single again, what’s next?”

Your stomach twisted.

Daniel, to his credit, didn’t seem caught off guard. Instead, he exhaled a soft laugh, his eyes flickering over to you for a fraction of a second before settling back on the sky. “Don’t know,” he admitted, voice easy but thoughtful. “Taking my time, I guess.”

Vitto nudged him with her foot. “Taking your time? Since when do you take your time with things?”

Another soft chuckle. “Since now,” he replied, gaze still focused on the clouds drifting above. Then, almost absentmindedly, “Some things are worth waiting for.”

The weight of those words settled over you like a storm cloud, dark and full of unspoken meaning.

You swallowed, feeling Fio’s and Danna’s subtle but pointed glances.

Desperate for an out, you sat up and dusted your hands on your jean shorts. “Alright, break’s over,” you announced, your voice forced-cheerful. “Who’s ready to get Iza home before she finds another way to make us run after her?”

“She’s going to be knocked out after this,” Andrew muttered, adjusting his cap over his eyes, “Which, honestly? Won't be the worst thing.”

The group slowly followed your lead, rising to their feet, the conversation left hanging in the air like an unfinished sentence.

Daniel stood last, brushing stray grass from his shorts. His eyes met yours for the briefest moment—warm, unreadable, patient.

And just like that, you had the overwhelming feeling that this wasn’t the end of it.

Not even close.

As the group started walking, Fio fell into step beside you, bumping her shoulder against yours.

“Todo bien?” she asked, voice low.

You hesitated before giving her a short nod. “Síp.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Uh-huh. Sure.” Her eyes flickered toward Daniel—who was holding the toddler across his arms pretending she was a plane, her bright giggles making you look at them fondly—then back to you. “Just… ten cuidado, okay?”

You knew what she meant, and the worst part was, you didn’t have an answer.

The house was buzzing with a different kind of energy now that Blake had arrived, his laughter blending into the easy hum of conversation. The sun was starting to dip below the trees, casting the living room in golden light as everyone settled in after our long day out.

You were sitting cross-legged on the couch, nursing a glass of iced coffee as you half-listened to Andrew and Blake trading stories. Sitting on a loveseat across the table, Fio had her eyes on you, sharp and knowing, waiting for the right moment to strike. She’d seen how you had been expertly avoiding Daniel all afternoon, your movements purposefully, your gaze never lingering too long in his direction.

But she knew you. She knew you well enough to quickly recognize when something was brewing beneath the surface.

So the moment she was waiting for to strike came when Daniel entered the room, towel slung over his shoulder from a post-run shower, his damp curls sticking to his forehead. He glanced her way briefly, offering a small nod before moving toward the men on the right side of the L-shaped sectional couch.

As soon as you noticed your ex in the room, your shoulders tensed and you quickly grabbed your phone to pretend to be interested in whatever gossip was trending on Twitter. And that was all it took for Fio to make her move.

“Acompáñame,” Fio muttered, grabbing your arm and dragging you up from the couch before you could protest. Vitto, who was leaving the kitchen just on time to witness the whole moment, followed closely behind, recognizing the brewing intervention. You barely made it to the hallway before Fio turned on you with a look that could burn holes through steel.

“Mami, what the hell is going on?” she demanded, crossing her arms.

You feigned innocence, which only made Fio roll her eyes. “Nada, Fio. Why?”

“Oh, don’t even start with that bullshit,” Fio shot back. “You’ve been weird ever since we came back. And don’t think I didn’t see the way you tensed up when lo pendejo de Daniel walked in just now.”

“Fio,” Vitto interjected, her tone softer but no less firm. “We just want to know how you’re feeling.”

You exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down your face. You knew this moment was inevitable, but you weren't ready to unpack it. Not yet.

“I’m fine,” you said, too quickly.

Fio let out a sharp laugh. “Liar. Try again.”

Vitto nudged your shoulder gently. “You’ve been avoiding him all day, even when he’s been trying to be... I don’t know, civil? Different?”

Different. That was exactly it. Daniel was different. More patient, more thoughtful. He still had that stupid, easygoing charm, but there was something else beneath it now—something more deliberate. And it made everything ten times harder.

You groaned, leaning against the wall. “It’s just—he’s here, freshly single apparently. And it’s messing with my head, okay?”

Fio softened just a fraction, but her stance was unwavering. “Be honest—do you still love him?”

The question hit you like a freight train, your breath catching in your throat.

Vitto reached for your hand. “It’s okay if you do, fofinha. We just want you to be honest with yourself.”

You swallowed hard, looking down at your linked hands. You could feel the truth clawing at your chest, but admitting it out loud felt too dangerous. Too real. So instead, you whispered, “I love Rúben.”

Neither of them doubted that you did. But love wasn’t simple, and you all knew it.

Fio sighed, rubbing her temples. “Mira, all I’m saying is—if this is hurting you, you need to face it. You can’t keep pushing it down.”

You closed your eyes, exhaling slowly. “I know.”

Vitto squeezed your hand before stepping back. “Come on, let’s get back before they start thinking we killed you or something.”

You let out a tired chuckle.

You three made your way back, and you couldn’t shake the weight in your chest. Because for the first time in a long time, you weren't sure if you could keep running from this.

As you stepped back into the living room, the warmth of conversation and soft laughter wrapped around you like a protective shield. Blake was animatedly recounting some ridiculous story, his hands moving in exaggerated gestures while Andrew cackled beside him. The scene was so effortlessly lighthearted that, for a brief moment, you almost let yourself slip back into the comfort of it.

Almost.

Daniel was still there.

Still real.

Still encompassing all your senses.

But before you could settle back into your spot on the couch, Vitto’s hand closed gently around your wrist. “Wanna help me finish dinner?,” she asked, her voice light, but you knew her well enough to recognize the intention behind it.

She was giving you an out. A way to escape the tension still lingering in the air.

You nodded quickly, too relieved to question it. “Sure.”

Fio gave you a knowing look but didn’t go with you as you followed Vitto into the kitchen. The warmth of the living room buzzed behind you, but as soon as you stepped into the quieter space, you let out a slow breath.

Vitto had already started making Coxinhas earlier, the smell of seasoned chicken filling the kitchen. She rolled up her sleeves and handed you a piece of dough without saying anything at first, letting the act of cooking settle you.

You worked in silence for a few minutes, shaping the dough into small teardrop shapes while Vitto did the same beside you. The rhythmic motion was soothing, giving your hands something to do while your thoughts settled.

Then, finally, she spoke.

“You okay?”

You sighed, focusing on the dough in your hands. “I don’t know.”

Vitto hummed in understanding. “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

You didn’t have to ask what she meant. “Yeah.”

She set a finished Coxinha onto the tray and turned to you, her expression softer than it had been earlier. “I know today’s been a lot. And I know spending time with him again after everything is… complicated.”

You swallowed hard. “It’s not just that. He’s different.”

Vitto nodded, as if she had noticed it too. “People change.”

“But does it matter?” You met her eyes, your own filled with uncertainty. “Even if he’s changed, it doesn’t erase what happened. It doesn’t change how much it hurt.”

Vitto placed a gentle hand on your arm. “No, it doesn’t. And no one is saying you have to forgive him or even let him back in. But, fofinha, you don’t have to carry all of this alone.”

You exhaled shakily, your fingers tightening around the dough. “I don’t know how to stop.”

Vitto gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. “Remember: One step at a time.”

The words brought back a memory from a night that seemed a lifetime ago, in this same house, but under different circumstances. “You’re strong,” she had whispered as she rocked you gently, as the heart-shattering sobs began anew. “Stronger than you know. You’ll get through this, one step at a time. You have us, and we’re not going anywhere.”

For a moment, you let yourself lean into her words, into the quiet comfort of her presence. The noise from the living room felt distant, like something happening in another world.

And for the first time all day, you felt like you could breathe again.

Vitto suddenly perked up. “You know what we need? Some music.” She didn’t wait for your answer before speaking again. “Alexa play ‘Caraluna’ by Bacilos”

The robotic voice answered back and the unmistakable opening chords of one of your favorite songs filled the kitchen. One she knew put you in a good mood. A grin spread across her face as she turned to you, already swaying to the beat.

¿Quién dice que no duelen las huellas en la arena?

Tu huella el mar se la llevó, pero la luna sigue ahí.

Pero esa luna es mi condena.

(You couldn't help but internally chuckle at the irony of the song’s lyrics and your current predicament.)

“You have to dance with me,” she insisted, holding out her hands. “Come on, you know you want to.”

You groaned, but a small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “Vitto…”

“No excuses!” she cut in, grabbing your hands and pulling you toward her. “Let loose, fofinha!”

And against all odds, you did.

Laughter bubbled up as she spun you, her energy infectious. The rhythm took over, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the knot in your chest loosened. You sang along, carefree, as the warmth of the moment wrapped around you like a long-forgotten embrace.

Yo seguiré buscando o seguiré escapando

Tal vez de ti, tal vez de mí

Before you knew it, the kitchen had turned into a makeshift dance floor, the scent of freshly made coxinhas mixing with the warm nostalgia of song after song.

And then, as if called by the rhythm—because it was in her blood, after all—Iza came toddling into the kitchen. Just woken up from her afternoon nap, her curly hair bounced as she moved, her big brown eyes lighting up at the sight of you and her mother dancing.

“Titi! Mamãe!” she squealed, her tiny feet already moving to the beat in her adorable, uncoordinated way. She wiggled her hips, her little arms waving in the air as she giggled.

Vitto gasped dramatically. “Look at her go! We have a future bailarina in the house!”

You laughed, reaching for Iza’s hands to twirl her around, her delighted laughter filling the room. You had spent months in this house after your breakup, healing, learning to breathe again, and in those months, you and Vitto had passed down a piece of your own childhood to Iza.

Disney Channel songs had been the soundtrack of your teenage years,—Camp Rock, High School Musical, Cheetah Girls, you name it—and now they were becoming hers. She knew them all by heart, but her ultimate favorite? Hoedown Throwdown by Hannah Montana.

So it was no surprise when, as soon as the last notes of ‘Batida de Coco’ played, she gasped dramatically and clapped her hands. “Hodan Trowdawn!” she demanded, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Vitto smirked. “You heard Boss Baby.”

You sighed, already knowing there was no getting out of this one. “Alexa, play Hoedown Throwdown by Miley Cyrus.”

The second the upbeat intro started, Iza shrieked in excitement, already trying (and failing) to follow the choreography you and Vitto had taught her. You joined in, going through the familiar moves, laughing when Iza tried to stomp her tiny foot with exaggerated determination.

What you didn’t notice, however, was that the ruckus had drawn the attention of the others.

One by one, the voices from the living room started trickling into the kitchen. First Andrew, then Blake, then Fio and Danna, all grinning at the sight of you, Vitto, and Iza in the middle of a full-on Hoedown Throwdown performance.

And then, leaning against the doorway, towel still draped over his shoulder from his earlier shower, stood Daniel.

But he wasn’t just watching the dance—he was watching you.

There was something different in his gaze, something softer, something more intense. He watched as you twirled Iza around, your laughter blending with hers in a way that made his chest tighten. He had always known you were good with kids, but seeing you like this—with Iza, with your guard completely down, with that effortless, nurturing ease—it did something to him.

Something dangerous.

But you were too busy living in the moment to notice.

Fio and Danna wasted no time jumping in.

“This is our moment,” Fio announced dramatically, flipping her hair as she slid into position before the song went back to the chorus.

Danna laughed. “You mean, this is Titi and Mamãe’s moment, and we’re just background dancers.”

But still, the second the chorus hit, the four of you fell into sync like it was second nature. Muscle memory kicked in, and suddenly, it was like you were back in your childhood bedrooms, practicing in front of TVs, convinced you’d someday perform this choreography on a real stage.

Iza squealed in delight, trying her best to keep up, even though her little feet didn’t quite move the way she wanted them to. But she had the spirit, and that was all that mattered.

Andrew leaned against the fridge, arms crossed, shaking his head with amusement. Blake had his phone out, definitely recording what was happening. And somewhere in the back, laughing along with them, was Daniel.

And yet, his gaze kept coming back to you.

Something about this scene—it was overwhelming in the best way. Nostalgic. Warm. Effortless. You were so yourself in this moment, dancing like no one was watching, letting Iza twirl between you and Fio, her giggles filling the air like music.

You were happy.

And it hit him, all at once.

God, he had missed this. He had missed you.

He barely registered when the song ended, when the room erupted into applause and Iza immediately yelled, “Again! Again!”

You caught your breath, shaking your head with a laugh. “Iza, amor, your Tías need a break, or we won’t survive dinner.”

Fio wiped imaginary sweat from her forehead. “Yeah, I don’t have the stamina I had at 14, mi amor.”

Vitto chuckled, scooping Iza into her arms. “Okay, bailarina, let’s give them a minute.”

As the moment settled, the energy in the room slowly shifted, you finally looked up—only to find Daniel watching you.

And unlike before, when you had done your best to avoid his eyes, this time… you held his gaze.

And your lips turned up into a soft smile.

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life-despair-and-monsters-blog · 3 months ago

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Kinktober Day 23 & 26: "Bondage/Restraints" & "Voyeurism/Exhibitionism" - For OTP: "Femme Fatale and the Apex" (Sonya x Jennifer)

Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton @imogenkol and @josephseedismyfather

Tagging @adelaidedrubman @spookyrares @derelictheretic @inafieldofdaisies @noodlecupcakes @direwombat @voidika @cassietrn @aceghosts @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @cloudofbutterflies92 @carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @g0dspeeed @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins and @florbelles + anyone else who want to join.

Prompt based on this kinktober post made by fellow mutual @starsandskies. While the main Kink of this post is "Bondage/Restraints" & some "Voyeurism/Exhibitionism", there's also some minor inclusions of "Dirty Talk", "Orgasm Control", "Praise Kink", "Knife Play" and "Dom/Sub dynamic". I would have put down "Naked-Clothed" but the "clothed" person in question is an almost 10-foot tall cyborg beastie (with a human's brain) whose only covering is metal welded into the flesh so... SHRUG!

Anyway, SimpleGenius here from my Life, Despair & Monsters Blog. Just making my first contribution to Kinktober. I'm not really an excessive smut writer, though with that being said, I have written it on occasion, just never posting it (...until now). This is a oneshot devoted to Sonya and Jennifer just being their kinky selves.

From the mature tag and the title you can probably already guess that this oneshot (which will also be uploaded onto my AO3 as well) contains explicitly sexual content meant for 18+ users only. Minors Do Not Interact!

Here's some more warnings to scare off any stowaways.

CW: Explicit BDSM, Teasing/edging, stripping, (tail???) knife play, the equivalent of thigh riding for these two (but on Sonya's tail), naked female with not kind of non-naked female (there's like barbie physiques/anatomy involved with Sonya), and minor mention of a blood kink (unsurprisingly Jennifer's kind of a freak too). Basically monster-fucking (maybe robot-fucking? Or would it be cyborg-monster fucking???). A mix between praise and degradation kinks. Sexual fantasies. Really freaky behavior coming from these two. But very enthusiastic consent! Also vulgar language. And whatever else there is.

I’ve tried my best to research the sex aspect of it all, and even if I don’t believe it’s all accurate I think I did good with what I could find.

TW: Slight mentions of referenced murder and maybe cannibalism (Sonya's got a human brain inside a very non-human body so I don't know what lines that crosses). And minor implications of a toxic dynamic. They're both possessive people who suck so bad.

With that out of the way, I hope you do enjoy what I've written below the cut. This will officially be my first smut that I've publicly published. I'll be sure to reblog this post with the link to the one that'll be posted on my AO3. Also I'll be publishing another Kinktober Oneshot shortly after this one from my @the-silver-chronicles blog, about the main couple of that series, Silva and Faith. So don't be alarmed by a random ping from an icon you may or may not recognize.

Title: The Tails That Bind

Series: Life, Despair & Monsters (Love Death + Robots)

Character/s: Sonya/Sonnie | The Apex/Khanivore (re-interpreted canon character with OC qualities), Jennifer, Dicko (referenced in passing) and Sir Enigma Malvolio (referenced OC).

Words: 5,635

She heard her before she saw her; the click-clack of heels on marble closing in to their quarters.

Sonya remained where she was though; hanging from the ceiling in the expansive space that was refurbished to specifically accommodate her massive form, the high walls adorned with deep claw marks and scrapes she entrenched her talons and tail spikes into. Certainly, better than the restrictive pod or the dirty paddocks.

In contrast to her usual straightforwardness, when it came to dealing with her "mistress" of all people, Sonya made an effort in entertaining her more dramatic flairs.

If only to piss off the shrewd woman.

The door opened with such force that when Sonya peeked through her only optic, shutters uncoiling from her lens, to witness the blonde slam the door shut with a ferocity that immediately turned her on.

Someone's already pissy today, Sonya noted as she continued to observe with growing interest.

Jennifer turned around, short blonde hair barely touching her shoulders, noticeably a little frazzled with a few more wild strands curling out than usual. Her yellow rose still managed to survive staying pinned in her hair in spite of the fact Jennifer looked on the verge of ripping her hair out.

Her brows were furrowed, her face was scrunched in anger and a lovely snarl adorned her lips. Blue eyes darted to her white laced gloves, ripping them off as she mumbled curses under her breath. Sonya's optic lingered on the curves of her body, covered only by the golden dress Jennifer preferred to wear.

Sonya preferred when she didn't wear anything. Ogling Jennifer had been the closest her human brain could get to experiencing arousal within a body that wasn't designed to feel it. She had to get creative and tamper with many of the strange machinations and codes Malvolio left in her cursed Beastie body to at least have her body acknowledge the feelings.

In spite of this, she was still so far from reaching her goal of actually feeling the satisfactory conclusion of pleasure.

"-that old fuck!" Sonya was brought back to reality by the enraged outburst from Jennifer.

"Which old fuck are you referring to this time?" Sonya spoke in a voice more mature and sophisticated than her original gruff and accented voice, the crackling of the speaker embedded in her throat alerting Jennifer to the other presence in the room.

Jennifer's alarmed blue eyes pointedly gazed up to meet her gleaming red optic. However, she relaxed once she saw it was just Sonya, who uncoiled herself to lower her body, but refrained from leaving the ceiling just yet.

"It's one of Dicko's closer business partners," Jennifer told the Apex, kneeling down to take off her heels, "And I thought you were down in your workshop."

That doesn't narrow it down to who it is at all, Sonya wanted to retort, but chose to respond with, "I was, but it's so hot down there that I decided to seek out the coolest room I knew of."

"The wonders of an air con," Jennifer remarked, moving over to her vanity desk to set down her yellow rose from her hair.

Sonya rolled her optic at the snide comment, and returned her attention back to the source of Jennifer's sour mood, "Which one of Dicko's partners had it been? Ross or Carmen?"

"Ross. Carmen took a vacation, lucky bastard," Jennifer grumbled about the latter, though the former's name was spoken with disgust, "He was countering every proposition I made. Questioning my ability as a successor to Dicko's business. And attempting to belittle me in front of every one of those weak and cowardly geezers. The absolute gall!"

Sonya lowered herself above the bed, talons underneath her jaw as she watched her mistress rage. If she could, she'd be squeezing her thighs together to add a little friction. Unfortunately, her body wasn't included with genitals, and rubbing her thighs together in this body would just be pointless, so she could only visualize the image to force herself from screaming internally.

"The fucker was also leering at me. Almost all of them were," Jennifer continued, sitting down onto the foot of her massive mattress with a huff.

"I don't blame them," Sonya replied, extending her neck so her head was close above Jennifer, "Your body is desirable. You're probably the only woman in their life they can jack off to. I know that's what I'd be doing."

Jennifer abruptly turned with a face full of red; not blushing red, but pissed off red.

"Oh, fuck you," she replied, standing up to move away from Sonya and the bed.

"You'd have to beg me for that," Sonya said in a sing-song rhythm, chortling.

Jennfier crossed her arms as she stewed in her anger more, "This is serious. I know they're conspiring against me. Honestly, I wish I could have them all dead by tomorrow morning."

Sonya piqued at that, red optic widening with optimism.

"You know, if Ross is being so bothersome," she spoke up, her next words a suggestion, "I could eat him for you."

Jennifer turned to look at the beastie, opened her mouth to chide her, but closed it as she considered the idea, a smile crossing her lips, until a frown swiftly replaced it, and she shook her head.

"While I certainly wouldn't be against the idea," she told the Apex with sincere consideration, she rebuked the idea, "I can't just make an example out of him. At least not right now. I require his cooperation to gain access to his assets, and if I killed him now, it'd harm my reputation and standing with the other partners. And without them, we won't have a chance of finding Malvolio."

The very name of that... thing made Sonya's entire nervous system shudder, the dark thoughts resurfacing. She let them fester at the edge of her mind, before dispelling them back to the pits. She'll let them re-emerge once they found the creature; let him face the result of his violation towards her body.

Jennifer huffed out a sigh, which returned Sonya's attention back to her even as she went to make her leave, "I need to let off some steam."

Sonya tilted her head as she watched Jennifer pause just a step away from the door. The woman's blue eyes glanced back to the beastie, gaze following the Apex's elongated muscled arms, thick metal-plated tails, their twitching rattles near the piercing pincers and closed sharp jaw.

She bit her bottom lip, her hands slid down to her hips as she slowly strutted back over to Sonya.

"You know," Jennifer said as she reached the bed, "I just remembered how I never thanked you for stopping that assassin. And a good beast like you deserves a fitting reward for protecting her mistress so well."

Sonya cocked her head, red optic narrowing down at Jennifer. Sonya remembered the incident clearly; there had been a scorned bidder who lost because of Dicko's fateful mistake of convincing them to bet a lot of money against Malvolio. He managed to slip past Jennifer's guards and got too close for Sonya's liking.

Luckily, the Apex was on Jennifer's patrol guard, and she had spotted the glint of the knife before it had even left its sheath. Fittingly, she gave the man the same end she gave Dicko when saving her mistress; a biting introduction to her maw.

But that had been several weeks ago.

"Is that so?" Sonya inquired, wishing she had a brow to raise.

Jennifer only nodded, wetting her petite lips. She slid two fingers on both hands underneath her dress' loose straps, letting them fall limply down her arms to expose more skin. She reached behind her back, tugging the zip down behind her dress so she could loosen her front, exposing a small amount of cleavage to the Apex.

Sonya was surprised of her own self-control when her lens zoomed in on the skin, how calm and collected she managed to breathe. She restrained herself though; she had too much pride in herself to lay down and roll over like a dog.

No, she had a better idea.

"Oh, don't bullshit me with your "reasoning" darling, you just want me to fuck your brains out until you forget your own name and can't remember your troubles in the morning," Sonya retorts, her talons touching the ground as she leans over the bed, bringing her head closer to Jennifer's face.

There was no fear in her mistress' eyes, only a waiting expectation and a carnality that involuntarily made the Apex shake in excitement. Sonya continued, "If you think you can flatter me into getting between your legs, then I encourage you to resume because it is working."

Jennifer grinned in triumph as she proceeded to pull her zipper down further, but halted when Sonya added, "However, as I said before, it'll require you to beg."

Jennifer scoffed and shook her head, "I'm not doing that. You fuck me, or you don't. Your choice."

Despite her confidence, Sonya saw through her act and huffed out a disappointed steam of air as she started retracting backwards, "Oh well, I guess I won't-"

With her bluff blown, Jennifer's eyes widened as she reached forward for the Apex's face, pleading, "Wait! Fuck, fine, please fuck me. Please plow my pussy with your long, flexible and magnificent tongue until my mind goes blank. Make me scream your name each time you make me cum. I'll do anything you want, Sonya."

Sonya wished she could grin just as badly as she wished she could get wet right now.

She decided to put an end to her mistress' misery.

"Since you begged so desperately for it, I guess I have no choice but to fuck your brains out," Sonya concurred, and hummed, "But I'm curious... you'll do anything I want?"

Jennifer paused, narrowed her eyes in challenge, and responded, "Yes. I'll... try whatever you want, as long as I get fucked in the end. Sound like a fair exchange?"

Sonya nodded and tapped a talon on her chin in thought. There weren't much things her body could be used for during sex that wouldn't be detrimental to Jennifer's health, with exception to her tongue and the rattles under her curved blades that tipped her tails.

Although, she recalled the night she and Jennifer had met and began their cooperation, specifically to the moment where the Apex had Jennifer restrained with her tails, That has been something I've wanted to do again.

Gaining an idea, she replied, "You know, I've been wanting to try some bondage on you."

Jennifer's face scrunched in confusion until Sonya's tails disconnected from the walls and awaited by the Apex's sides. There were three in total, all tipped with dagger like pincers, and two rattles that resided near the curve of the blade, which she's been allowed to use like a vibrator before.

Jennifer once again bit her bottom lip while she thought of those around her body.

"I have no complaints," she tells the beastie, though frowns at the state of the bed, "Though I'm not getting naked until the bed's cleared of your mess."

Sonya knelt up so she could get a better look at the bed. Her optic immediately spotted the dust and chips of the ceiling that managed to fall down.

Without much patience, Sonya took the solution of using her tails to tip the bed to the side and shake off all the unwanted variables, before setting it back down normally.

"That better?" she asked.

Jennifer looked at the newest state of her large bed, which now lacked the pillows and blankets that were unceremoniously tossed off. Though seeing that the silk sheets remained on, all Jennifer responded with was a calm yet exasperated, "Sure."

Sonya positioned herself closer to the wall of the bed's frame, knelt down so she wouldn't cover most of the bed's space when her head laid down, while also keeping her tails free and ready.

Jennifer crawled onto the bed, swaying her body seductively while she made her way over to the Apex's head, which allowed the straps of her golden dress to loosen further down, just above her elbows. The front of her dress barely hung close to her chest, and Sonya swore she felt her brain overheat when her optic focused on the view of more of Jennifer's cleavage barely hidden by the loose clothes.

Jennifer got close enough to the Apex's face just to lean upwards until she sat at her bare heels, one hand going behind to zip her dress down the rest of the way, while the other kept the front of her dress from falling down. Sonya slightly tilted her head up so her optic could capture everything.

"I know how excited you've been for this," Jennifer purred as she gazed into the red hue of Sonya's optic, "I know you've been craving to see these again."

She pulled one strap down all the way, and then freed her arm of the other, before grabbing her the front of her dress and pulling the golden gown down, slightly jiggling free her petite perky tits. Sonya shook with a passionate eagerness at the visual image, just about all her mind could express through the body without pouncing onto Jennifer to forgo the bondage altogether.

She wanted to restrain herself, to prolong this just long enough to enjoy the experience and ensure she actually succeeds in listening to Jennifer's only demand.

"I know you've missed them," Jennifer swayed her chest, catching the Apex full attention. She grabbed hold of her breasts, massaging and giving her tits a pleasing yet playful squeeze as Sonya observed, winding herself up while putting on a show for her beastie. She gasped as she flicked her nipples, gently twisting them between her fingers as the tingling sensations caused her thighs to rub together.

She was enjoying herself now, and from how she looked at Sonya's quivering form, she knew the Apex enjoyed this show as well.

Jennifer stood up, dragging her hands over her breasts as she brought them across the skin of her body, the ticklish senses stirring a heat to coil within her. She performed a sensual dance in view of Sonya's optic, bringing her hands down to her hips where her dress hung closely, thumbs digging under the gown's hem, teasingly dragging it below her pelvis.

She spun around in her erotic sway, much to Sonya's surprise, but leaned down as she dragged the rest of her dress over her sexy ass, nothing worn underneath. She let the golden gown fall the rest of the way and glanced back at Sonya's now widened optic. With a pleased smirk, Jennifer gave herself a resounding smack against one of the cheeks.

Sonya's talons scraped against the marble floor. She clenched her jaw as she clutched hold over her fraying self-control, deciding that Jennifer's teasing needed to end here.

Thankfully, it was just about time Jennifer finished her little striptease for Sonya, and her blonde mistress knelt on her heels, dainty hands grabbing hold one of the alien protrusions coming out the Apex's head and underneath the narrow chin of her sharp jaw respectively, intentionally pressing her petite breasts against the optic as she leaned her head down to a small slit beside Sonya's frame to sultrily whisper in her audio receptors.

"What now, Sonnie?"

The lustful softness of her nickname snapped Sonya out of her patient observations, and she lifted her head up out of Jennifer's hold so her red optic could meet her mistress' blue eyes below.

"Now, I'll require you to turn around," Sonya instructed, her tails moving closer to the bed, "Make sure your arms are crossed behind you, and legs spread apart."

Jennifer turned around as instructed; not without doing a little show of shaking her ass temptingly as she settled into the position. Sonya was fueled with even more excitement of the opportunity of returning some teasing of her own.

Jennifer crossed her arms behind her, and Sonya immediately coiled her middle tail around the smaller woman's waist which then extended to her dainty hands, earning a surprise yelp from her mistress as her arms were secured tightly.

"Do you trust me?" Sonya let the question out softly at the shell of Jennifer's ear, her middle tail's blade carefully and gently stroking its cool steel-like tip down the human's back. The bladed pincer soon curved to brush one of mistress' lower cheeks, sensing her body clench at the sensual contact on instinct while the other tails began to coil under and around her thighs, "To release your doubts? To let go of all your inhibitions?"

With me, Sonya left unsaid. She shunned the thought... the very emotion infecting it, aside to the corners of her mind. No need to mix feelings with pleasure. Especially when she was nothing more than a thing to Jennifer...

As both tails snaked up from Jennifer's thighs to her upper body, the left pincer delicately scraped along her stomach while the right began to curl around her right breast with the blade leaving a ghost of a kiss to her jaw in passing.

Jennifer gasped out a light moan when her middle tail began to rub against her wet cunt, in a back and forth motion, ensuring the blade's sharpness did not touch the soft flesh. Soon the sleek metal was glistened with her slickness.

"Fuck, yes," Jennifer answered approvingly, rocking her wet cunt in unison of the tail. She bit her bottom lip to suppress another moan as the left and right tipped tails coiled around her tits, the appendages lightly playing with her breasts with deliberate twists and squeezes, the blades lightly kissing along the sensitive flesh.

Sonya focused on the priority of not piercing the skin with her tipped blades. She teased the flesh with an expertise akin to a surgeon, with her only intent of not cutting in and letting Jennifer bleed.

God forbid Jennifer cums early to the sight of her own blood because Sonya got sloppy. The Apex wanted to prolong this for her own sense of pleasure as well.

Soon her tails lifted up Jennifer, much to the smaller woman's surprise. Sonya raised her above the beastie's head, claws brought on to the bed in case the Apex had to catch her.

Slowly, she rotated Jennifer upside-down so her optic could get a better look at her reactions. To her delight, Jennifer squirmed in her grip, like last time. Unlike last time, the cause of her squirming came from the vibrating rattles that grazed closer to her swelling clit, the tipped blade positioned to poke above her trimmed blonde pubic hair.

Jennifer whined when the rattles on the left and right tails began to move, flicking her erect nipples between the vibrating pair on both coiled tails. She tried to arch her back into the vibrating sensations, as well as attempted to widen her legs so the rattles on the middle tail would have more space, but Sonya kept her restrained in position, brushing the rattles to her wet puffy pussy but never staying for long. She was completely at Sonya's mercy.

Much to the younger woman's growing frustration. A frustration that transitioned into a filthy, primal need.

Sonya was enticed by the desperate whines that escaped Jennifer's mouth, her red optic hungrily filling it's view of her elevated bare body; held up by her, restrained by her, receiving and being denied pleasure from her.

She focused on the blonde's gaping pouts, faint blush forming across her face, her blonde hair flowing downwards. Sonya's tongue flicked within her closed maw at the sight of sweat beginning to break from her mistress' body, who uselessly rutted her hips in the air to reach the teasing rattles, how pronounced her small breasts were from their bound state and the slick juices surrounding her pussy.

Sonya's entire system felt a fluctuation of pleasure within herself from the visual stimuli. It wouldn't be enough to ever reach a satisfying conclusion, though it was fun, nonetheless. When her audio receptors picked up pleading mewls coming from Jennifer, Sonya knew it was nearly time to settle her part of this exchange.

"What was that?" Sonya playfully inquired, listening to the words being interrupted by soft gasps whenever her rattles vibrated too close to her sensitive cunt and swollen clit, "I can't hear what you’re trying to say over such lewd sounds darling. Could you perhaps speak up?”

Through shaky breaths, Jennifer swallowed her murmured pleas and choked out a strained, "Sonya... I don't know how much longer I can do this. I want to cum. Please, it's unbearable, let me cum already. Stop teasing and fuck me!"

Sonya ate up her begging cries; she could see a glimpse of forming tears at her eyes. She briefly wondered if she should just wait long enough for her mistress to start crying, so she could bring out her tongue and lap up the falling tears. She hadn't kissed the woman's face with her tongue in a while, it could be a nice change of pace to show she cared-

As quickly as that idea came, Sonya dismissed the thought with a visceral fear? rejection. If she did that, then she wouldn't stop at the tasteful tears; she'd continue stroking her tongue along Jennifer's sweaty and salty unmarked flesh, until she got down to between her thighs and fed on the fluids there.

She could make Jennifer cry from pleasure then, sure; but she didn't want to use her tongue to have the woman undone, she wanted her mistress gushing from her very touch.

Sonya refocused on Jennifer once more, her helpless form cursing underneath her breath as her breasts were continuously played with while her pussy received nothing but teasing touches that edged her on but denied her true release.

Sonya hummed, feigning pondering in thought, as she took a sweet moment to bask in the wanton whimpers that were caused by her.

"How badly do you want this?" Sonya asked her, bringing her red optic to Jennifer's pleading blue eyes, "How desperate are you to want to be undone by a terrible beast like me? Say it..."

Those two husky, imploring, eager words made Jennifer shiver, feeling hotter. Through the haze, she rasped out with a sense of urgent need she's never spoken in before, "I can think of no one else who can satisfy me like you..."

Though caught off-guard, Sonya was not unsatisfied with the answer. She absorbed those words into the very core of her mind, sparking a renewed sense of determination.

"Well then," the beastie said, Jennifer's words lingering on the precipices of her audio receptors, feeling her "heart" pump faster, "I think you've endured enough teasing. You deserve this for being such a good, patient girl."

Jennifer shrieked in surprise when the vibrating rattles were buried against her slick folds and sensitive clit. However, when the initial shock wore off, it was replaced with an alluring moan, followed by a symphony of gasps, the short bursts of pleased shouts, and the sweet curses that she managed through her panting. She closed her eyes and started to arch her back again, and this time Sonya adjusted her tails grip to accommodate Jennifer's position.

It wouldn't be long until she was finished. Though Sonya decided to speed up the process by taking advantage of one of Jennifer's weaknesses; her voice.

"You should see yourself," Sonya husked out, her voice thick with lust, "How fucking enrapturing you are right now. Above here, bound by me, fucked by me, you look like a goddess. Oh, your little noises make it so tempting to ravish your flesh and pussy so I can make you scream louder."

Jennifer failed to suppress the whiny, pathetic whimper with a tender lip bite, and Sonya snickered at the reaction.

"Oh, but it's true," Sonya responded, the quills along her back standing up, elated by such noises as she continued, "Though I never realized how restraining you like this could bring out even more beautiful noises from you. I could just have you like this whenever you're being so bratty. Rip that dress off. Bind your limbs. Tease your wet cunt, edging it as you rut like a bitch in heat chasing after that final release. But it'll never come. More accurately, you'll never cum."

The image of Jennifer on her knees in this bedroom, writhing in the restraints of Sonya's tail, desperately begging her to end the torment, brought a familiar sense of sadism into her system. However, she did feel an odd sensation of heat rise in her body.

She returned back to the assignment at hand, the heat radiating at the back of her mind as she hummed and said, "Oh can you envision it, Jennifer? How much of a writhing, filthy mess you'd be? You'd be left unsatisfied, without release. Not unless you crawled onto your knees and begged so pitifully. Maybe alone. Maybe not. But tell me, if you were to do that, should I give in and fuck you like I do now?"

A resounding and gasping "YES" was Jennifer's response as her hips jutted at the rattles faster. So close now...

"Such an enthusiastic answer. You must be so close now," Sonya noted, not noticing her own jaw gaping open as her red optic recorded Jennifer's unravelling, "You've taken me so well this far. Letting me taste you, ruin you. So strong and resilient. With the most perfect body just for me. You do these filthy activities so impressively, as a naughty girl like you should. Oh, I love the way your flesh bruises and reddens and scars from me. I love the taste of your tears, of your sweat and of your juices. And I love how loud I make you scream and cry and moan. Especially when the only word coming out of your mouth is my name. Makes me fantasize doing it all in front of everyone. What say you? Perhaps on a live hologram broadcast during a Beastie tournament? In the storage unit for all the passing guards and personnel to listen to? Or maybe in a meeting with those morons who dare to ogle you-?"

Sonya was interrupted by an abrupt and approving moan, which slipped into a pleased humming smile from Jennifer.

"Oh? You like that idea? Is that what you want?" Sonya inquired with an endeared curiosity, surprised by the quick nod that followed, "Does it turn you on? At the thought of me fucking you in front of those leering senile men? My, my. What a dirty little slut you are, wanting to be humiliated by me so desperately that you would want those old fucks to see how good I make you feel. Or perhaps it because you want to show them that you're mine. For me, and me alone. No one else. Maybe in one of your next meetings, I'll accompany you. And whenever you go to speak, I'll be behind you, my long, flexible and magnificent tongue lapping at the nape of your neck, nibbling at the flesh with teasing little bites, my claws digging at your glimmering dress. One tail snaking under your skirt. Maybe I'll leave small cuts in passing, letting that lovely crimson run down those fine legs of yours. But once that tail reaches its destination, I'll let the vibrations tease your wet cunt until your legs begin to wobble."

"I'll tear open the front of your dress, let those ravishing tits of yours breathe within a room where they've been dreamed about for so long, except the only one having any fun with them there will be me," Sonya had a tail squeeze promisingly around one of Jennifer's tits as emphasis, "I'll have another tail play with one while my tongue lavishes the other. Don't worry, I'll have my last tail free to ensure none of them stop us, and no one leaves, bound by their pathetic fear. I'll rip your dress off, exposing your body to them all, let them see how dripping fucking wet you are for me, and I'll pick you up, bring you to the table, splayed out like a feast ready to be dined. But only for one though."

She pressed her closed jaw to whisper, "None of them will touch you. We'll show them how well you take me. How beautiful you sing my name. How much you enjoy being fucked dirty by me, and how good of a naughty girl you are to me. Show them you find more pleasure whoring yourself to a beastie than being touched by any of their limp dicks. Reveal your deadliness to them, unleash your claws and mark my metal with your scratches as I leave my own marks along your beautiful body. I bet their hearts would give out at the sight. I don't think their weak pride could take it. The fact you'd cum to a- disgu- terrible monst- beast like me, wouldn't you agree, my sexy- gorgeous- beautif- fucking - goddes- belov- m-!"

Everything was so unbearably hot. Her mind seemed to be on some kind of fritz, just like her voice box. Diagnostics on the system returned with nothing of issue, nor of any errors.

And yet Sonya felt so unbelievably strained from the task at hand. As if exhaustion of all things was overcoming her body as she continued to bring Jennifer closer to her release.

And her voice box. She didn't understand what was wrong with it. It bugged out, replacing words she wanted to say with those she'd never in her life say to Jennifer. But most importantly...

Was that my voice? Not her current voice, the one she was forced to adopt, but the one that Malvolio stole from her.

It didn't matter much, focusing on it was too much of a strain while she was fucking Jennifer at the same time. She refocused her efforts in bringing her mistress over the edge.

Luckily, she didn't have to wait long.

Her words, in combination to the unrelenting rattles fucking her pussy and fondling her breasts, had culminated in Jennifer arching her back more while screaming out Sonya's name, accompanied by the gushing squirts onto the Apex's tail.

Witnessing the result, Sonya swiftly stopped the rattles and brought Jennifer down to the bed safely. She managed to lay the woman down onto her front before her usually durable limbs failed her. She caught herself from laying on top of Jennifer, and carefully positioned herself to lay down by Jennifer's left.

Both beastie and mistress heaved for air, the activity exhausting for both parties involved, much to Sonya's bafflement.

They laid beside each other, just for the moment, to catch their breath.

Jennifer opened her blue eyes to just gaze at the Apex, eyes taking in Sonya's strangely exhausted form. She brushed a strand of her now messy and sweaty blonde hair aside, let out a little laugh, and said, "That was... amazing."

Sonya grunted in agreement, unable to currently verbalize. She did use enough strength to bring the tipped middle tail to her view, the rattles and the curved blade under it glimmering in Jennifer's juices, not dissimilar to the woman's dress.

She opened her jaw to bring her tongue out, cleaning up the slick fluids. She rumbled approvingly at the sweetly sour taste.

Her audio receptors picked up on the soft sound of a slick pussy being gently stroked. Sonya looked over to see Jennifer still staring at her but with a newfound hunger. Sonya noticed that her ass was slightly bent up, with one of her hands massaging her cunt.

"You look so hot when you do that," she husked out, and Sonya felt her exhaustion dissipate when Jennifer asked, "Do you want to put that tongue to better use?"

Sonya tilted her head, her lens focusing on Jennifer's face, "Round two? Now?"

"Don't you remember what we agreed on? "Until my mind goes blank", "until I forget my own name" and "can't remember my troubles in the morning"," Jennifer recalled, and in that sultry mocking tone of hers, "Or are you tapping out after round one?"

A new edge burned within Sonya, and she leaned up, looking down at Jennifer's nude body, asking, "Is that a challenge?"

Jennifer though playfully shrugged, spreading her legs wider as she continued stroking herself with hushed breathy moans.

Sonya took the opportunity to place her right hand over on the other side of Jennifer, until she was above the woman. She retracted until she was staring at both her mistress' sexy ass and her glistened pussy.

Blue eyes glanced to Sonya's observing form, and removed her slick-covered hand, caressing it on one of her ass cheeks before giving it a smack to entice the beastie, as she returned her hand to under her chin.

Sonya let out an amused chuckle as she took out her tongue. However, she pressed it from her mistress' tail bone all the way up her spine, the heat and wetness of the elongated and rough bio-mechanical muscle causing Jennifer to gasp and shiver from its texture.

Sonya lowered herself so she was right on top of her mistress, her gaping jaw releasing a soft exhale of hot steam brush at the woman's ear.

"You're not going to make it to any meetings tomorrow," Sonya informed her mistress.

Jennifer only smirked at her words, not returning a reply as she got comfortable. The beastie retracted back to where her mistress needed her the most.

Though unnecessary, Sonya couldn't help but lick around her mouth as she prepared to satiate her hunger, as well as Jennifer's.

[A/n] And from there on, Jennifer decided bondage was an excellent excuse to get out of a meeting she didn't want to attend the next day.

I wanna say that I may have gone a bit overboard, but overboard is just in-character for them (at least in my series).

#series: life despair & monsters #fic: the tails that bind #love death + robots #sonnie's edge #kinktober 2024 #oc: sonya #ld+r sonnie #ldr sonnie #ld+r jennifer #ldr jennifer #otp: femme fatale and the apex #as stated before I'm not the biggest smut writer as I prefer more plot and lore stuff #so my motivation regarding smut often fluctuates inconsistently while i vibe better with plot heavy stories #although i did try my best to fit in at least a little bit about their characters and a tiny mention towards their main plot #this is like an in-between scene for them.#canon or non-canon? doesn't really matter given the context of all my series.#here's me writing about a ship that is non-existent on ao3 and fanfic.net and even wattpad #like i've only found one fic that actually pairs these two from their source material of these two #you'd expect the toxic yuri writers to be writing paragraphs upon paragraphs of these two but NO instead i find sonnie paired with male ocs #even though in the show sonnie's only shown interest in one woman and kissed one woman and was going to fuck one woman too.#that being jennifer... before she stabbed sonnie through the skull that is (she lived but jennifer and dicko don't)#i tried to at least include some of my main series' themes into this oneshot.#most specifically something i expand upon from the source material: that being “the violation of the human body”#(which more often than not focused on women's bodies which isn't something i want to ignore even if i want to explore men's own too)#like fuck dicko in my series specifically and in the source material #but sir enigma malvolio is the definition of “i'm going to mutilate you so fucking traumatically and i expect you to thank me”#malvolio may not violate people sexually (something both jennifer and sonya have experienced) but he will change their bodies irreversibly #which is just as bad as sonya is now a mass of bio-cybernetics made to fight and jennifer is one clone of a dead girl dicko had pimped out.#anyway when dicko and malvolio are no longer in control of jennifer and sonya respectively (one 6ft under & the other gets out of dodge)#and since jennifer wants control of her life while sonya wants to be of use there is a constant power imbalance that shifts between them.

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