6

Her phone is vibrating. Distantly, Vanitas becomes aware of the sound, an ear-grating buzzing emanating from the small blue phone resting on the nightstand. It's too far away to reach, not with the way that her wrists are currently chained to the collar around her neck. She can barely scratch her ear, much less unfold them to their full length. She glances at it, but a sudden movement from the figure bent over her has a when ripping its way from her throat as she squirms helplessly. "D-domi."

"Eyes on me, kitten," Dominique growls, her tone low and filled with a coldness that sends delightful shivers coursing down Vanitas' spine. It's rare that she gets to see this side of Dominique, the possessiveness radiating out of her crimson eyes, fangs barely hidden behind a thin veneer of politeness. The occasional flash of them peeking out from behind her lips only serves to make her arousal worse, and Vanitas finds herself groaning trying to grind herself down on the thick toy breaching her walls.

"Domi, phone," Vanitas hisses, flailing her hand demandingly. "It could be important." It's most likely not, Vanitas can't think of anyone who would want to call her at 7 pm on a Thursday evening. But there is the faintest possibility that it is Mikael and that alone has her kicking at Domi and rolling towards the edge of the bed. Vanitas does not like her baby brother. Finds him to be the greatest nuisance known to man at times, but that does not mean she wouldn't burn the world down for him if he so much as hinted at it. He's her baby brother and that's that. Her fingers close around the phone, only to feel it slip through her fingers as hands grab her hips and suddenly, she's moving. Going from sprawled on her back to seated on a dildo, her thighs slapping against Dominique's. She keens. The phone landing on the sheets as she grabs for Dominique, trying to anchor herself on something – on anything.

"Well?" Dominique rumbles smugly, her claws tracing lines of fire down Vanitas' spine. "Answer the phone."

Vanitas wheezes, struggling to remember how to breathe properly, feeling more stuffed than she'd been in months. The dildo that Dominique is wearing is two sizes bigger than the one she normally employs. An experiment, she had said. Vanitas feels dizzy, mind turned to mush as her thoughts float around like sad dying balloons, the helium leaking out of them in wispy trails. Wipes at her mouth with a hand that she's surprised to feel shaking, and tries to blink clarity back into thoughts. Dominique is still watching her, hands resting possessively on her hips, eyes shining in the low lighting. The phone is on the bed, still and silent. Vanitas sighs and slowly leans down towards it, needing to bend nearly in half in order to gather up the small device. It puts her breasts dangerously close to Dominique's mouth. To her fangs and Vanitas feels not one iota of surprise when soft lips gather around her nipple and suck on it. All the same, it takes all her concentration to not whine, gripping on to her phone for dear life.

The screen lights up as she unlocks it, revealing several missed messages and two missed calls. She swipes her way over to the messages, zeroing in on Mikael's beaming profile picture. Its her favorite one of him, not that she would ever admit it. He's seated next to Robot, leaning against the dog's flank with an arm around his shoulders, face turned towards the camera as he beams with all his strength. His hair is a fluffy mess of snowy curls, cheeks tinted faintly pink from the cold. Vanitas can't recall exactly when or where the photo was taken, she thinks that it must have been a year or two after Luna had adopted them, because Robot is still quite small. Still, it was the first time that her brother had smiled genuinely at the camera, the first time she'd seen him laugh without any restraint or fear and so she treasures the photo. It's her favorite for a reason.

Her brother's texts are a conglomeration of emojis and key smashes, something about a Luca and wanting to go to the movies. Vanitas sighs again, breath hitching as fingers grip her ass and squeeze. A reminder that she's supposed to be doing something else. Rapidly she types out a response – "the hell you on about?" – and hits send. The missed calls are from Noé, and though he hadn't left any voicemails Vanitas lifts the phone to her ear and calls him back. One never knew what chaos Noé could have gotten himself into during the time that she'd been gone. There's an impatient sounding groan from beneath her and Vanitas looks down at Dominique's mulish expression. Slowly, carefully, she rolls her hips -teeth planted firmly in her lower lip – as she struggles not to exhale too loudly. The ringtone is still vibrating through her ear, and she figures that if Noé doesn't answer soon she'll be free to give him up as a lost cause and go back to her regularly scheduled railing.

Dominique's eyes have gone all squinty, her lips curled into a sulk and Vanitas shivers reflexively as fingers grip her ass even harder. She'll have bruises in the morning for sure. She shifts again only to squawk as Dominique's hips move as well and she's suddenly bouncing, mouth falling open in shock as the dildo continues to pound into her. "D-domi! Domi please! Do-aaah~!"

"Vanitas?"

Noé's voice cuts through the haze like a knife through butter and she slaps a hand to her moth, hastily muffling her needy whines. Biting her tongue so hard that it hurts. "Nng?"

"Vanitas, are you quite alright?" To her ears, Noé himself sounds quite breathless, she imagines that he had been out doing his evening run. For some god forsaken reason, the bastard actually enjoyed the activity. Vanitas would rather perish in hellfire than willingly go for something as strenuous as a jog.

"I'm fine," she manages, hating how breathy her own voice sounds. Dominique's eyebrow arches and that's all the warning Vanitas gets before she's on her back, legs being spread as wide as they can manage as Dominique slots neatly back into place and stays there, her hands gripping Vanitas' breasts like they're her own personal stress balls. The mixture of pleasure pain nearly has her orgasming on the spot, body trembling as arousal continues to coil in her gut and she closes her eyes desperately. If Noé knew what they were up to, she'd never hear the end of it from him. "What do you want?"

"Oh, I just thought to inform you that I wouldn't be home tonight," Noé replies brightly, and Vanitas imagines that he's smiling stupidly at the phone. "So, there's no need to make me a serving of dinner."

"I wasn't planning to-ah, fuck!" Slaps her hand back on her mouth and tries to breath normally, refusing to look down at where her bitch of a girlfriend is greedily sucking on her breast, fangs certain to leave a mark.

"…Vanitas? Are you sure that you're alright?" Noé asks, and Vanitas wants to scream.

"Yes!" He snaps. "I'm fine! I'm always fine! Where are you going, nnng, when – fuuuu-mmrf." Slumps back against the bed, tremors coursing through her body as her orgasm crests through her and starts to leak down her legs. Dominique withdraws her fangs and licks her lips, holding up a finger with a smug expression. Vanitas tries to swat at her nut the chains binding his wrists only jingle merrily. Fuck you, she mouths instead. Fuck you, you fucking bitch. Dominique blinks back innocently and strokes her sides gently as if she's not the reason Vanitas is moaning like a whore on the phone.

"I'm at Olivier's," Noé replies after a long moment of silence, sounding like he wants to ask more questions but to Vanitas' relief, he doesn't push. "I won't be home until late tomorrow. Or Saturday, so don't wait up for me and please feed Murr."

"I wasn't planning on waiting up for you," Vanitas growls, "and I'm not going to feed your dumb cat." She'll feed him of course; Murr – or Murder as Vanitas affectionally liked to call him – would throw a temper tantrum if his food was not in the bowl by 8 pm sharp. Vanitas had only made that mistake once. "The fuck you doing at Olivier's?" Of all the places he thought that Noé would have gone, she certainly hadn't expected to hear the name of their Religious studies TA.

"It's a study session," Noé replies primly. "They're helping me with my essay."

Vanitas doesn't believe that for a second and opens her mouth to call him out on it, but Dominique chooses that moment to start moving, and all her focus goes to not screeching directly into the phone.

"Anyway, I'll see you this week-end," Noé continues obliviously. "Take care of yourself! Love you!"

A heartbeat later, the dial tone is droning in her ear, and Vanitas flings it aside, hands flying to Dominique's hair and clinging to it.

"Oh, kitten," Dominique says and laughs. "It's cute that you think you're allowed to hold on to something." She reaches up and removes them from her hair, pinning them down above her head. "Be a good pet and leave them there."

"Fuck…" Vanitas breaths, fingers desperately gripping at the sheets.

"I'm going to fuck you up," Dominique says as sweet as sugar.

"Fuck yes," Vanitas replies and it's the last coherent thought she has that evening.

Vanitas awakens slowly, her ass throbbing and brain feeling delightfully fucked empty of all thoughts. Dominique is a warm mass besides her, arm flung across her stomach and face mushed into the pillows, drool escaping from the corner of her mouth. She's almost cute like this, though Vanitas would never admit it. She's not entirely sure what has dragged her from the depths of her dreams, but she's awake now, and sleep is already fleeing like birds from a dog. She yawns and rubs at her eyes, carefully sitting up and beginning the difficult task of escaping from the bed. There is not an inch of her that does not throb in some shape or form, her thighs sting from the numerous bite marks Dominique had laid across them. Her ass is a tender mass of delightfully bruised skin, and she has to swallow as the memory flows through her mind. Dominique had bent her over the side of the couch, pinned her there so easily that Vanitas had nearly melted on the spot, and warmed her butt with a vicious hand.

It had been an exceptionally good way to spend her evening. Dominique makes a snorting sound, and Vanitas hastily stops her reminiscing, preferring to escape from the bed before she can be pounced on. It's as she's dragging on clothing, that the sound comes again. It only takes a moment to recognize it as being the same one that had dragged her from the depths of sleep. A soft but insistent knocking, to a tune so familiar that she's running through the apartment before the thought had fully registered. Skids to a halt in front of the door just as a voice – young and high pitched – becomes audible from the other side.

"Do you want to build a snowman~"

"Mikael," Vanitas says like it's the foulest curse word she knows. A glance at the kitchen clock tells her the time, and she curses then, loud, and irate.

"See Robot!" Her brother's voice is as clear as day. "I told you it would work, and to think you doubted me." If his dog answers, Vanitas can't tell, she's too busy opening the door an angry glare on her face.

Mikael stands on the other side, his snowy hair hidden by an obnoxiously colored beanie that clashes terribly with the pure white jacket that Vani had gotten him as a joke – and yet, Mikael loved so much he refused to wear any other jacket – and his backpack resting by his feet. He smiles – gap toothed and bright – his dimples making him the picture of sheer innocence. Angelic even.

Vanitas would consider herself to be a patient person, not kind by any means, but tolerant to a certain extent. Especially towards people that she would – in a pinch – admit that she loves. It doesn't stop her from slamming the door shut in her brother's face.

"Vaaaani!" Mikael caterwauls from the other side, his voice going all high pitched in sheer outrage. Robot barks helpfully, his sorrowful whoofs seeming to seep their way into Vanitas' very soul.

"It's 5 am!" She yells back. "Go the fuck home!"

"I can't go home, it's 5 am!" Is the answering screech. "It's not safe for people my age to walk around at 5 am!"

Her brother, unfortunately, raises a fair point. She opens the door again. "What are you doing here? It's a school day, Meesh," she snaps. "Little boys are supposed to go to school on Fridays."

Mikael rolls his eyes and replies primely, in a tone that he only could have gotten from his classmate, Luca. "You're supposed to take me to school today. Don't you check your texts?"

Vanitas doesn't recall having ever received any such vital information, but she's not about to admit that, so she only glares at him harder. "You're 13. Get yourself to school on your own, aren't you always bragging about being a big boy?"

Mikael's eyes immediately well up with tears, and though Vanitas knows that they're fake, she can't help but feel like each one is an arrow being jabbed into her heart. She grips the doorframe, determined not to give in to his puppy dog eyes, refusing to even so much as look at the sad whining dog seated beside her pest of a brother. "Fine," Mikael says sadly and sniffles. "I'll just…" he heaves a great big sigh. "I guess I'll just have to ask Rolanda for a ride." He reaches into his pocket, his prosthetic whirring faintly as it delicately closes around the phone. "Maybe she'll be willing to help me out."

Robot stares at her accusingly, as if Vanitas is responsible for all of Mikael's sadness. Vanitas snarls, internally cursing herself for ever having allowed the sunshine bastard to meet her conniving little brother and gives in. "Fine, dammit Meesh. Get inside, I'll take you to school." Steps aside to allow the little pest in and it is only then that she spots the duffel that had been hidden behind him. "Hey wait, wait – dammit Meesh!" The last part is a shout for the little pest has already gone tearing through the apartment and flung himself down on the couch, his giggles drifting through the air.

"Pray tell why you have a bag of clothing with you?" Vanitas demands as she limps over to him, automatically stroking the top of Robot's soft head. Glares at him over her shoulder even as she gets down a bowl and starts to fill it with fruit loops, knowing full-well that if left to his own devices Mikael would forget to eat breakfast. "Did Mother pack you lunch?" She asks, adding a splash of milk and setting the bowl down on the coffee table.

"Nope!" Mikael chirps and sprawls out on the couch, his feet resting on Robot's back. "I want pizza."

"You're a pizza," Vanitas snaps, looking not the fridge and sighing when all she sees is leftovers. "You'll have pasta for lunch. Now answer the question. What's the duffel for?"

Mikael pouts dramatically, staring up at the ceiling and sighing like Vanitas has personally betrayed his expectations. It's his usual dramatics so Vanitas feels no guilt for ignoring him as she sets up a lunch kit and sticks it in the Pokémon lunch box that she keeps in the cabinet just for Mikael's visits. His brother had gone through a Pokémon phase when he'd been younger, aggressively playing Pokémon Fire Red repeatedly. It was the only game that he'd owned in that hellhole they'd called home. Vanitas had bought him both the console and the game. It had taken her months of saving up, carefully scrapping together the pennies that Moreau occasionally flung her way for her good behavior, but the result had been worth it. Even if Mikael's utter adoration of Charizard had become a nuisance when they'd finally made it out. Vanitas doesn't want to think about the three separate Charizard suit she's had to make over the years because Mikael had wanted to dress up as him for Halloween.

"Promise you won't get mad?"

Vanitas freezes at his tone, and slowly turns around her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Mikael blinks at him, still looking the picture of innocence, his lower lip pouting out slightly. Vanitas stares him down and crosses her arms, until the little brat huffs and flops over on the couch. "Father's gone on a business trip, and next week's spring break."

"No," Vanitas says, horror mounting. "No, you can't be serious, you can't stay here-"

"I won't be," Mikael interrupts, and Vanitas is embarrassed to admit that her relief is audible. "Thanks sis, nice to know I'm wanted," Mikael grumbles and Robot adds a scolding bark.

"You don't want to stay here for a week," Vanitas points out, gesturing towards the hall where Dominique is sleeping. "Noé lives here."

"I like Domi and Noé," Mikael tells him, with his nose stuck in the air. "Anyway, I'm going to Luca's after school today. I'll be vacationing with him. So don't worry, I won't get in the way of your sex life."

"I don't have a sex life," Vanitas says without thinking, the denial tumbling out before she can stop it. Mikael's mouth falls open. Robot stops scratching his ear and stares at her with a confused face. Vanitas stares back, sorting through the million and a half questions that have popped up in her mind, starting with 'does Lucas' parents know about this' but before she can ask a single one, Mikael is launching himself off the couch.

"Dominique!" Her traitor of a little brother yells. "Vanitas says she doesn't have a sex life! She thinks you're sliced ham!"

There's a thud from the bedroom followed by the offended growl of her recently awakened girlfriend, and Vanitas decides that now would be a very good time to be somewhere else. Like the bathroom with its lockable door. She spins on her heels and heads the other way as Mikael cackles loudly.