Archive of Our Own

Like any other Sunday afternoon, Phainon had been glued to the couch long enough for the cushions to remember her shape, phone perilously hovering above her face as she scrolled endlessly.

Cyrene and Cipher had gotten into the habit of sending her video after video, which meant her DMs looked like they’d seen much brighter days. Regardless of the sheer volume, Phainon watched each and every one and replied, her thumbs flying across the keyboard, because ignoring them felt wrong. She was pretty bad at that.

She flicked past a video of a cat rotating in place while espousing several vowels and snorted under her breath, just as a notification slid down from the top of her screen. A notification from Mydei. Phainon opened it without thinking, nearly dropping the phone onto her own face.

[mydei-ocre🦁]

Mydei: Phainon.

Mydei: Is the water running at your place?

Phainon’s grin faded into confusion. She stared at the message for a second, then swung her legs off the couch with a heaving breath. Her loose basketball shorts rode down, so she tugged them up again as she crossed into the kitchen.

The faucet clicked on, then off. Water. She did it again, slower this time, then tested both hot and cold, just to be certain. Reporting back incorrectly to Mydei would’ve been a crime, a true embarrassment she would never recover from.

But everything was working fine. She wiped her hand on her shirt and typed back quickly, thumbs racing across the screen.

[mydei-ocre🦁]

Phainon: Yeah!! It’s fine??? What’s up

The typing bubble appeared, then vanished, and then reappeared. Phainon watched it curiously until the reply finally came.

Mydei: I’m coming over. 

Her heart jumped, entirely unhelpful as she looked around the apartment. Before she could even set her phone down on the countertop to assess the state of her surroundings, there was movement outside her front door, quick footsteps followed by a sharp knock. 

She adjusted her loose shorts again. The worst possible ensemble she could've picked when Mydei was just outside: an orange tank top, sports bra underneath, and purple basketball shorts she would never be seen dead in during the workweek.

Whatever, it was the weekend. She deserved comfort. There was another knock, so Phainon crossed the apartment in a rush and opened the door.

Mydei stood there, arms full, dressed in baggy pajama pants and a cropped band t-shirt that had seen better days… actually, probably decades, based on the bleach stains blooming across the fabric. It should not have looked good. It absolutely did, and Phainon’s brain short circuited on sight, as per usual.

It had been doing that since the day she moved into the apartment building, when Mydei had appeared in the hallway and offered to help carry boxes. That had naturally turned into a strength contest, and Phainon had been doomed ever since. Knowing they shared half a social circle only made it worse. It made their friendship inevitable. There was Castorice, Phainon’s best friend from university and also Mydei’s family friend. Then Cipher, Mydei’s longtime friend and Castorice’s girlfriend. Also, Aglaea, who knew everyone, was close with Mydei’s mom, and also happened to sign Phainon’s paychecks. The list went on and on.

“Haikas,” Mydei said, looking at her like she had been talking for a while. “Are you even listening to me?”

Phainon blinked, then straightened like she had been caught zoning out in class. “Yes. Yeah, I’m listening, what’s,” she cut herself off, eyes dropping to Mydei’s arms. Gloves, bottles, a bowl, and a towel slung over one wrist. Sort of a self evident array. “—Oh. Are you dyeing your hair today?”

Mydei nodded, a little awkward, because she was still standing in the hallway like a misplaced delivery. “I am.”

Phainon made a small sound of realization and immediately stepped aside. “Oops. Sorry. Come inside.”

The door shut behind them, and the apartment felt warmer for it. Mydei kicked her sandals off by the door and shifted the supplies in her hands. “My apartment’s water isn’t working. I’m gonna use your bathroom to get this done,” she said, already moving towards the bathroom like it was settled.

“Ah. Of course,” Phainon said, a little too quickly. She never had any issue with Mydei being over. If anything, she liked how natural it felt, how Mydei kept ending up in her space more and more lately. Sometimes Phainon caught herself thinking it would make sense if she just gave Mydei a key. Usually she told herself to stop being embarrassing right after. She hovered for a second, then tilted her head. “Since you’re here though, I feel like the least you could do in exchange is let me help you dye it.”

Mydei paused and looked at her. Phainon immediately became very aware of the way Mydei’s hair was twisted up in a claw clip, loose strands framing her face, the way her eyebrows did that furrowing thing when she was curious. 

“That’s a reward to you?” Mydei asked. “I’d just be putting you to work.”

‘Please do.’

“I don’t mind,” Phainon said, stepping a little closer before she could stop herself. “Please?” She smiled in a way she hoped came off charming and not desperate. A habit.

‘Let me take care of you, even if it’s just with this.’

Mydei studied her for a beat longer, then shrugged. “Fine. But don’t turn my entire head red or I’ll dye your face right back.”

‘You turn my face red enough already,’ Phainon’s brain supplied, completely unhelpfully. She swallowed it down, smiled, and nodded like a normal person. “Deal.”

They walked toward the bathroom together, close enough that Phainon could smell Mydei’s perfume. Cherry. Inside the bathroom, Phainon leaned back against the counter trying very hard to look normal. Mydei set the supplies down, then reached up and unclipped her hair.

It came loose all at once, spilling down her back in a way that felt incredibly unfair. It brushed the worn cotton of her shirt and nearly reached her waist, thick and almost mane like. Mydei rolled her shoulders and started organizing her things with practiced ease, her gloves snapped on. A couple of bottles opened, and the sharp scent of hair dye bloomed in the small space.

“Sooo, how’s work?”

Mydei glanced at her, then looked away again, a small grin tugging at the corner of her mouth as she poured dye into the bowl. “You asked me the same exact thing yesterday at the gym. You ask this every week, actually. My answer has never changed.”

Phainon scoffed softly. “I wouldn’t have to start all of our conversations if you weren’t so stoic, Mydei.”

“That’s not stoic. That’s just not narrating my entire life out loud,” She lifted the towel and draped it around her shoulders. Phainon’s gaze followed her hands. “You, however, must just be in love with the sound of your own voice.”

Did Mydei have any idea how wrong she was? Phainon had gone to the lengths of screen recording the couple of voice notes Mydei had seen her, just on the off-chance she’d lose them. 

“If that were true, I wouldn’t have had to come up with excuses to talk to you when I first moved in,” She said. 

That made Mydei pause. She shot Phainon a look through the mirror like she was deciding whether to challenge that.

“Sit,” Mydei said instead, jerking her chin toward the empty counter space. “If you’re helping, at least commit to it.”

Phainon did so immediately, because she had been waiting for permission. “I’m just saying,” Phainon went on lightly, leaning in as Mydei sectioned her hair carefully. “You don’t exactly make it easy to get to know you. Someone has to do the work.”

Mydei huffed a laugh despite herself. “Then do you offer this service to everyone?”

Phainon met her eyes in the mirror. “Nope. Just you.”

Mydei reached into the bag again before Phainon could ask, producing another pair of gloves and holding them out like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Phainon blinked, then took them.

“You just… have extra?” she asked, unable to keep the mild amusement out of her voice.

Mydei shrugged, already turning back to the counter. “I always stay prepped. In case I mess up. Or spill.”

She glanced at Phainon in the mirror. That made Phainon’s chest do something stupid. She pulled the gloves on properly, snapping them at the wrist, and scooted closer when Mydei did, close enough that Mydei had to lean in over her shoulder to guide her hands. Mydei took one section of her own hair and held it out, fingers gentle but sure, then dipped the brush into the bowl and demonstrated slowly.

“Just the ends,” she murmured, voice low. “See? You angle the brush like this. Don’t drag it upward or you’ll bleed into the blonde too much. Short strokes. Patient.”

Strokes, huh?

Phainon nodded, eyes locked in, absorbing every word like it mattered more than anything else she’d ever hear. She watched the red bloom against tufts of pale hair, rich and vivid, studying the way Mydei’s fingers steadied the section. Once—twice—her gaze betrayed her, drifting up to the reflection of Mydei’s mouth as she spoke, the soft shape of her lips forming instructions Phainon would’ve followed anywhere.

Phainon felt warm. Not exactly flustered, just kind of warm in a way that settled deep, pleasant and giddy in her gut. Like later, when Mydei caught her reflection somewhere, a flash of red at the ends, there’d be a piece of Phainon there too. Her work, and her hands. The thought made Phainon smile before she could stop it.

Mydei noticed immediately. “Why are you grinning, Haikas?” she grumbled. 

Phainon startled, then shook her head quickly. “Oh, nothing! Just—uh—ready now.” She slid her hands to Mydei’s hips without really thinking, nudging her a few inches to the left so the vanity light hit her hair better. 

Mydei allowed it, settling where Phainon guided her, shooting her another unreadable look before turning back to the bowl. Phainon swallowed, refocused, and dipped the brush carefully. 

Phainon worked in careful silence for a few seconds, fully absorbed. Her brush moved in short, precise strokes just like Mydei had shown her, red soaking neatly into the ends. She leaned forward without realizing it, tongue peeking out slightly between her teeth in concentration.

“So,” she said softly, still focused, “when did you start dyeing the ends of your hair?”

Mydei stiffened. It was subtle, how her broad shoulders drew tight, the way her thrumming fingers paused against the counter’s edge. Phainon nearly apologized for asking, but then Mydei exhaled and relaxed again, the tension dissipating as quickly as it had appeared. “High school,” Mydei said.

Phainon’s chest ached suddenly. Her hands never stopped moving, but her touch softened, reverent. She remembered the lock screen she had glimpsed more than once when Mydei checked her phone in the elevator. A much younger Mydei, all frazzled edges and shy eyes, standing beside a beautiful older woman with the same strong nose and warm gaze. Mydei didn’t have a red gradient in her hair back then. 

“That’s,” Phainon said quietly, swallowing, “interesting. Why’d you decide to do it?”

There was a beat of silence. Then Mydei huffed. “With all this talking you’re doing, you’d better be doing a good job with my hair.”

Phainon smiled despite herself. She dipped the brush back into the bowl and gently nudged Mydei’s head to the side so the section fell just right. Mydei stood between her legs now, close enough that Phainon could feel her warmth through the thin fabric of her shirt.

“Don’t you trust me?” Phainon asked lightly.

Mydei paused, then gave a quiet scoff. “Hmm. I trust you a little, Deliverer.”

Phainon groaned. “Ugh, that name again? You’re seriously going to keep using it and never tell me how you came up with it, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Mydei said immediately.

Phainon laughed under her breath as she kept working. “You know Cipher has started to pick it up from you too? Before I know it, Aglaea’s going to call me that at work.”

That did it. Mydei laughed, low and rich, the sound vibrating pleasantly through her chest. Phainon felt it more than she heard it, and it sent an entirely welcome thrill through her.

“Oh Nikador, I would pay to see that, make sure you record it next time,” Mydei said, still amused. “Cipher saying it is satisfying enough.”

Phainon glanced up at her reflection, smiling despite herself. “You’re the worst.”

“I’ll tell you some other time,” Mydei promised offhandedly. “Say, would you ever dye your own hair?”

Phainon hummed thoughtfully as she worked, brush held steady. “Probably not,” she said. “Cyrene pestered me to try pink for a while, but I think she gave up when she realized it wouldn’t really fit my vibe.”

Mydei’s eyes lifted. She looked Phainon up and down, slow and deliberate, then deadpanned, “Your ‘vibe.’ It wouldn’t fit your vibe…”

Phainon snorted, still focused on the careful line of colour she was laying down. “Uh. Yeah?”

“You realize you’re wearing an orange top and a bright purple pair of shorts?” Mydei continued evenly. “The vibe you speak of would give Aglaea a heart attack if she were here.”

Phainon laughed, brushing a little more dye onto the ends. “That’s unfair. The way I dress at home is my own business, thanks. And the ladies love me anyway.”

The words landed wrong.

From Mydei’s point of view, everything slowed. She was standing between Phainon’s legs, braced against the counter, letting someone else touch her hair. Not just touch it, but change it. She had never allowed that, had never even let someone watch her do her own hair before. And now Phainon was here with her, so focused and careful, talking like it meant absolutely nothing at all to mention other women.

Mydei’s fingers curled hard against the stone counter. For a split second she thought she might crack it. Her jaw tightened, teeth grinding together as irritation twisted in her chest. An image flashed through her mind, unhelpful and vivid, of grabbing Phainon by that absurdly tight tank top, yanking her down to eye level and shutting her up with a bruising kiss. Or a gentle fist.

She swallowed the impulse down.

“Right,” Mydei said coolly instead. “It would be a shame for your precious vibe if they knew you drool in your sleep. Or that you regularly get scammed buying fake antiques.”

There was a soft thump as Phainon’s foot nudged her thigh in protest. “Hey,” Phainon laughed. “Don’t get any ideas, okay? You never know when Cipher’s listening.”

Mydei’s lips twitched, a faint smirk threatening to form as her mind wandered. She imagined Cipher sneaking up behind an unsuspecting Phainon with a bucket of green paint, dumping it over her fluffy white hair. The mental image made her feel a little better. Her fingers loosened just enough on the counter to ground herself, but not so much that it was noticeable.

Phainon nudged her head again, adjusting the angle so the section fell perfectly. Mydei leaned into the touch despite herself, a pleasant feeling running itself down her spine.

The thought of Phainon really handling her hair, playing with it in earnest, made her curious. She’d always been meticulous with the small braid she liked to do for herself, and Phainon enjoyed tugging on it or fidgeting with it on occasion. Could Phainon braid it herself? Had she ever learned how to braid hair? 

A soft groan escaped her when Phainon tugged a section a bit too hard as she separated the strands.

Instantly Mydei froze, and the sound of it, so unguarded, hung between them. Phainon froze too, hands hovering midair, brush poised.

From Phainon’s perspective, the entire world narrowed. She stared down at Mydei, replaying that tiny groan over and over in her mind. Holy shit. She wished desperately for a voice recording of that.

Mydei opened her mouth to speak again, to scold or yell or just get a word out, but before she could, Phainon’s hands moved again, tugging on a different section of hair.

A small whimper slipped out of Mydei before she could stop it.

Phainon’s brush wobbled in her fingers. Mydei stepped back, wide eyes flashing at her, cheeks flushed an impossible red, but the heat in that glare only made Phainon’s pulse spike higher. Every part of her wanted to freeze time, lean closer, and listen to that sound again and again. 

“You—” Mydei began, voice sharp and strained, the word catching somewhere between indignation and something she couldn’t quite name.

Phainon didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she hopped down from the counter, sliding her gloves off slowly. The movement was smooth, just the right mix of casual and suggestive. Mydei’s attentive eyes followed the motion, the way Phainon flexed her fingers, peeled the gloves off, and set them aside.

Phainon leaned slightly closer, setting the brush carefully into the dye bowl. “Your hair is all done, princess.”

Mydei’s chest heaved as she tried to calm the storm of irritation and something far more complicated rising in her. Her fists itched, half-formed thoughts of pummeling Phainon to the floor tiles threatening to take over.

She drew in a breath and forced her voice out in controlled pieces. “Deliverer.”

Phainon tilted her head, mock confusion lacing her tone. “Hm? Did you still want me to dye your hair? I could dye something else.”

Mydei froze mid-step, blinking. Her head tipped just slightly as she stared at Phainon. “…What.”

Phainon brushed a strand of her own hair behind her ear. “I said,” she repeated, drawing out the words, “I could dye something else.”

Mydei's eyes narrowed. She didn't move a muscle, keeping her expression neutral and her body locked despite every instinct screaming at her to break someone’s bones. 

“You… want to dye… my pubes?” The woman said flatly.

Phainon’s eyes went wide, then crinkled at the corners as a snort escaped her. Mydei stared indignantly.

Another snort. Then a wheeze.

“Wha—what?” Phainon choked out, hands flying to her stomach as laughter finally erupted from her chest in full force. She doubled over, bracing herself on the counter with one hand while the other slapped weakly at the air like she was trying to fend off bees.

Mydei’s face went from flushed to nuclear. “I didn’t— Didn’t say that. Shut the fuck up,” she barked, voice cracking slightly under in pure horror. At herself. Or the world. Or whatever being gave her the ability to speak.

“You—you literally—” Phainon gasped between laughs, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

“I said something else!” Mydei roared, slapping both hands over her burning face as if that could erase the moment from existence or peel it off like old wallpaper. “I’m leaving.”  

Phainon reached out on instinct and caught Mydei’s wrist before she could turn away. “Wait, wait, Mydei, don’t go,” She blurted, words tumbling over each other as she stepped forward.

The contact was solid but not bruising. Phainon was strong enough to stop most people if she really wanted to. Mydei was not most people. If she decided to pull free, she could. Quite easily.

She didn’t.

Mydei halted, shoulders tight, staring daggers straight into Phainon’s soul. Her grip flexed once in Phainon’s hand, a warning more than an attempt to escape.

“I was just bluffing,” Phainon said quickly, tone losing its teasing edge. “I wanted to see what you’d say. I wasn’t, um, actually thinking about that. You just surprised me, that's all.”

Mydei’s eyes narrowed further. “I have half a mind to lay siege to your apartment right now.”

Phainon swallowed, then forced a crooked smile, thumb loosening around Mydei’s wrist but not letting go. “But then where are you going to wash your hair?”

That stopped her. Mydei’s gaze flicked away for half a second, jaw tightening as if she was weighing her options. “…Unbelievable,” Mydei muttered. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she looked back at Phainon, cheeks still faintly red, eyes sharp but no longer murderous. “You are on thin fucking ice, Deliverer.”

Phainon’s grin softened, relief slipping through her chest. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I know.”

She released Mydei’s wrist, hands lifting in surrender, and stepped aside to give her space. Mydei stayed where she was, breathing finally evening out.

Phainon shifted on her feet, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck as she tried to find the words. “So… um. How’d you even… come up with… with that?”

Mydei’s glare sharpened, the kind that could cut through steel. “You really are in love with your own voice. I knew it.”

Phainon held her hands up in mock surrender, chuckling nervously. “Nono, I just… I mean, have you really, uh…?”

Mydei’s patience thinned to a razor edge. “Just spit it out and stop mumbling to yourself.”

“Have you really dyed that before…?”

Mydei’s eyes narrowed even further. She didn’t answer immediately, letting the silence stretch, letting Phainon squirm just a little.

Phainon’s pulse picked up, heat creeping up her neck as she stood there, caught somewhere between bold and completely terrified of the answer. Mydei’s full lips twisted just slightly, a dangerous little curve that always made Phainon’s chest tighten.

“So what if I have?”

Phainon blinked, swallowing hard.

“Oh, you didn’t… ask anyone else to dye it for you. Right?”

Mydei’s eyes narrowed again, calculating something, and she let the silence stretch long enough that Phainon’s stomach started twisting. Then she shrugged, enough to seem casual, though there was a spark in her gaze that made Phainon feel like she’d just confessed a secret she wasn’t supposed to know. “No. I did it myself.”

Phainon’s breath hitched slightly. “By yourself.” she repeated, her mind racing through every image she had of Mydei.

"Yeah. By myself," Mydei said again, voice low, eyes locked on Phainon’s like she was daring her to make a joke.

Phainon didn’t. Couldn’t. Her mouth went dry. She imagined it. Mydei alone in a bathroom somewhere, steam rising off the tiles, red dye pooled in a bowl like blood-wine. The careful parting of that golden hair, was it golden all the way down? The slow drag of colour into the ends… no one watching. No one helping. Just her doing it all with quiet precision, maybe biting her lip just slightly in concentration—

A sharp snap pulled her back. Mydei had flicked the empty dye bottle at her forehead. Light enough not to hurt but just about hard enough to sting. “Stop staring,” she growled. “You look like someone kicked a puppy.”

Phainon rubbed her forehead and laughed weakly. “Sorry. I wasn't trying to drift off… I just… you really do everything yourself, huh?”

“Sure do.”

Silence settled between them, softer this time, if not more unsettling. Phainon a little closer again, slow this time. Not touching.

And when she spoke again, she was gentle as snowfall:

“...But now you don’t have to.”

Mydei’s golden eyes flickered upward to meet Phainon’s. Phainon could see the moment the proposition clicked in her mind, though she didn’t really seem to believe it was true. “You don’t mean you want to—” She began, before Phainon cut her off.

“Please? Look at how well I did with the rest of your hair?” She asked, as earnestly as she could muster, lifting a hand to Mydei’s hair, caressing a lock near the top of her head. Mydei shivered like she was expecting a tug, but Phainon only ran her fingers through. “I’ll be gentle.”

Mydei's eyes flicked back up to Phainon's face, narrowing. She was silent for a moment, the conflict obvious on her face. Phainon's mind raced as she watched the other woman struggle to find the right words. What was going through that head of hers, behind that sharp glare?

Phainon didn't let the silence stretch too long. She brushed a strand of hair behind Mydei's ear, the touch feather-light. “I want to try,” she begged softly. “Please let me…? I could do it more thoroughly than you doing it by yourself.”

Mydei's shoulders stiffened but she didn't move away from Phainon. In fact, she leaned into the touch almost imperceptibly. Her gaze dropped to the floor mat again and then back up. “Fine,” she finally said, voice steeled but lacking the usual bite. “Just be careful. Get any dye on my skin and I really will kill you. Where’s your Vaseline?”

There was the competitive woman Phainon knew. She nodded quickly, tripping over her words as she reached for her discarded gloves again. “I have it around here. Let me just grab it,” She practically scurried out of the bathroom, trying not to trip over her own feet.

The petroleum jelly was recovered in record time. 

When she returned to the bathroom, it was to Mydei having stolen her spot on the counter, pants abandoned on the floor, clad only in her top and a pair of lacy black panties. Phainon froze in the doorway, eyes drinking in the sight of the siren in front of her.

She'd seen a more undressed Mydei before, of course. In a bathing suit in the hot tub attached to the gym downstairs that they occasionally visited together, right after their gym sessions. Just not... quite in this context. Mydei's bare, muscled legs were crossed, one ankle propped on the opposite knee, her expression carefully neutral. But there was the slightest tension in the arch of her back.

Phainon had to drag her gaze away, clearing her throat as she stepped closer. She held up the jar of Vaseline. “I got it,” she rasped. She stepped closer, moving to stand between Mydei's parted legs. It felt far more intimate now than it should have, her heart beating against her ribs. Mydei's eyes tracked her movements, golden gaze still sharp and watchful.

Phainon unscrewed the lid of the jar, scooping up a generous amount of the petroleum jelly with her fingers. She set the jar down on the counter with her other hand, before trailing it over to the waistband of Mydei’s panties, looking up at her. 

Mydei's gaze fixated on noble fingers, watching as Phainon dipped just below the edge. Her breathing was still steady, but her thighs twitched slightly. Her voice was low as she met Phainon's eyes. “Don't get shy now,” she murmured. “You have to cover every inch of skin to protect it from the dye.”

‘Cover every inch.’

Phainon took a deep breath, trying to get a hold of herself. She was the one who had asked for this. She was the one who had started this. She could not chicken out now and lose whatever this competition was. “Right. Every inch.” She echoed. 

She tugged the waistband down, as Mydei lifted her hips to accommodate the fabric moving off her, hiding absolutely nothing as she kicked the panties off.

Phainon’s breath hitched, eyes wide as she tried to focus on the task at hand and not the sight of Mydei’s pretty cunt in front of her. Mydei settled back against the counter, arms braced behind her, muscles flexing under tattooed skin. 

“Don’t smudge it,” she said slowly. “And don’t dawdle.”  

Phainon knew she was blushing again, heat creeping along her neck and up her face. She could feel Mydei's eyes on her, gauging her reaction. She reached forward, fingers gently grasping Mydei's inner thigh, spreading it to make more room for herself in between. Mydei’s hair was just as blonde here, trimmed and mostly concentrated in the front. Phainon touch was careful, almost reverent, as she began smoothing the petroleum jelly across Mydei’s skin.

Mydei's eyes darkened, her breathing deepening. She kept still as Phainon worked carefully, her gaze drifting up to study her face. Her expression was carefully neutral, though there was tension in her jaw.

Phainon couldn't tell if it was irritation or something else. Probably irritation. Or at least it would be, if not for the way Mydei shifted ever so slightly when Phainon's fingers dipped closer to the center. Just a subtle tensing of her thighs, a soft hitch in her breath.

Phainon's attention was immediately drawn to the minute change in Mydei's body language. She let her fingers linger there a moment, just brushing the sensitive skin beneath, her own heart racing in her chest… and somewhere else.

She had to force herself to continue her task, to spread more jelly over the exposed skin, though it was getting increasingly difficult to focus.

Phainon's eyes flicked up to Mydei's face, searching for any hint of what the other woman was thinking. There was nothing. Nothing, except for the heavy flush high on her cheeks.

“Haikas, you’ve covered it thoroughly enough. Grab the damn brush.”

Phainon nodded, carefully withdrawing her fingers. She wiped them on a paper towel before she picked up the dye brush once more, trying to ignore the way her heart attempted to escape from her ribs.

“Right,” she rasped. “The... the dye.”

Mydei shifted slightly on the counter, arms still braced behind her, legs parting even more.

“Just go slowly,” Mydei murmured, her voice low.

Slowly, Phainon dipped the brush into the bowl of dye. She lifted it out, shaking off the excess onto the sides of the bowl, her eyes shifting to Mydei's skin once more. 

She was gorgeous all over.

“Slowly,” Phainon reminded herself, her voice coming out much huskier than intended. She painted a thin line of red just along the edge where skin met gold. The colour popped vividly against the pale roots and platinum strands beneath. Phainon leaned a little closer, tugging Mydei forward by the hips for easier access. She decided not to apply much to the folds, just gently painting on the red and avoiding any skin. “You’re surprisingly quiet now.” She noted.

Mydei's sharp retort died in her throat as Phainon tugged her hips forward once more, her breath hitching in her chest. It felt surreal, sitting there with Phainon between her thighs like she’d wanted for so long, but for all the wrong fucking reasons. Her grip on the underside of the counter tightened as she tried to keep her composure.

But the heat was coiling low in her gut, and Phainon's proximity, the way her fingers carefully traced over her skin, the way she leaned in closer… Mydei swallowed hard, trying to keep the shiver out of her next words. “You're a bit close,” she murmured.

“Yeah. I kind of have to be, princess.” Phainon murmured. Mydei studied the movements of her lips as she talked carefully.

Phainon didn't pull back, her breath warm against Mydei's skin as she continued working the dye along the delicate edges. The scent of chemicals mixed with Mydei's perfume, something expensive and faintly woody that always clung to her skin.  

“Almost done,” she whispered.

Mydei’s exhale was uneven. “You…“ She stopped, and swallowed. “You’d better not be enjoying this.”  

‘Definitely not. No way.’

Phainon’s lips curled. She didn’t answer for fear of her voice betraying herself, just stroked one last time, feather-light, before finally sitting back to admire her work. The contrast was striking: crimson blooming against gold, just like Mydei herself. All sharp edges and molten heat beneath.

“How does it look?” Mydei managed.

Phainon was silent for a long moment, still studying her handiwork. Finally, she looked up. “I think I’m pretty good at this, you know.” She said, licking her lips absently. 

Mydei huffed, already pushing herself off the counter and making Phainon scramble back a few steps. “Whatever, we'll see how it turns out after I wash my hair—”

“Wait!” Phainon protested. “You'll smudge the dye down there if you move around too much,” Her cheeks pinked slightly at the phrasing, but she held firm. “I've done this much for you already, so let me wash your hair too.”

If she was being a little greedy, she could regret it later. At that moment all she wanted was more of the woman in her bathroom.

Mydei arched an eyebrow, arms crossing over her chest. "What, are you practicing to open your own salon now?" 

Phainon rolled her eyes, already adjusting the shower curtains with one hand while beckoning Mydei over with the other. “Don't pretend you don't like getting pampered. Come on. I already told you I'd only do this for you,” The last couple of words slipped out before she could stop them, so she busied herself with testing the water temperature. “Uh, just sit here,” she instructed, nudging the edge of the tub. “Facing me. Unless you really want shampoo in your eyes. Then I’ll leave you to it.”

“Whatever,” Mydei groaned but compiled, her movements quick as she stepped over and perched on the porcelain edge, back facing the inside of the shower. Phainon tried not to stare at the way her manicured nails adjusted the towel around her shoulders, or how the fluorescent bathroom light caught the red hue now threaded through blonde tresses.  

The thought of Mydei letting anyone else this close, letting them touch her like this, seeing her like this, made something coil tight in Phainon's chest. It was ridiculous. She knew she was being ridiculous, and yet… The warm water rushed over Mydei's scalp as Phainon carefully worked her fingers through the dyed strands. The water ran through her fingers. Maybe it looked comparable to blood or pomegranate juice, but Phainon cherished how it felt like Mydei had stuck a claim over her hands.

“You're being gentle,” Mydei muttered, though she made no move to pull away. Her hands rested lightly on the edge of the tub, fingers curling slightly against the ceramic.  

Phainon smirked, massaging the strands just a little harder in retaliation. “Oh, so you want me to be rough with you?”

Mydei's shoulders tensed, then deliberately relaxed, like she had to make an effort. “As if. Don't get cocky.”

Phainon's fingers stilled for just a moment as she caught the faintest tremor in Mydei's voice. Interesting. She leaned in closer under the guise of rinsing, her lips nearly brushing the shell of Mydei's ear.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” she murmured.  

Except, she had before, and absolutely would again. Later. When the dye was set and Mydei was back in her own unit, Phainon would collapse in bed and sort out the mess in her own shorts. For now, she contented herself with the way Mydei's breath hitched ever so slightly when her fingers traced the nape of her neck.  

There was something endearing about watching the usually sharp-tongued woman melt under her fingers. Now Mydei was pliant under Phainon's touch, eyes half-lidded like they were merely relaxing in the sauna together. It was more than enough to send a thrill down Phainon's own spine. She had to resist the urge to press in just a little harder, to coax out another one of those soft, shaky sighs.

Phainon rinsed the blonde strands under cool water, careful not to splash water around or bump into Mydei. When the water under her gloves began to run clear instead of red, she reached for the conditioner Mydei brought, applying it with gentle hands. She let it set for a moment while she stepped away to clean up the other supplies, trying very hard not to turn around and stare at the woman willingly sitting half-naked on the tub.

She took a deep breath as she tidied up, sorting through her thoughts as she sorted through the items. Phainon couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this stirred. Mydei was sitting there like this was a normal weekend activity for them. But Phainon’s fingers remembered the feel of those trembling shoulders and wide hips, the warmth of that flushed, tanned skin.

She returned to Mydei’s side after a moment, methodically rinsing out the rest of the conditioner. If she seemed more robotic now, the blonde didn’t mention it.  Mydei seemed all too content to sit in silence, her eyes half-lidded as Phainon's deft fingers wrapped a towel around her wet hair. Her skin prickled with goosebumps as the cooler air hit the damp skin of her arms, but that was hardly noticeable next to the heat still thrumming through her body.

“Done.” Phainon finally broke the silence, her tone curt. 

Mydei scoffed. “It took you long enough.”

Phainon let out a sigh. She really didn't understand how Mydei could find the time to be so neutral after the way they had just been spending their time. Her expression remained clinical, arms folded over her chest.

“At least it’s not your own water bill,” Phainon responded dryly. She let out a chuckle, shaking her head as she tossed the damp towel onto the rack. “Next time you wash my hair then, and we’ll see how fast you are.” She gestured at Mydei's long, tangled locks with a smirk.

Mydei shot her a half-lidded glare, still lounging like some sunbathing panther on the bathroom tiles. “Mhm. And next time let’s see if I let you help at all.”

Phainon raised a skeptical brow, leaning against the sink with deliberate nonchalance. “Oh? So I guess you’re gonna do all the work again from now on?” She smirked, eyes flicking down just for a split second toward Mydei’s lap, where the red-tipped strands of hair peeked just slightly between her strong thighs.  

Mydei caught the glance and smirked, stretching like a lazy cat. “Eyes up here, Snowy,” Her voice dropped low, teasing. “Too busy admiring your handiwork?”  

Phainon flushed faintly but didn’t look away. “I’m just checking for missed spots,” she shot back, deadpan. “Wouldn’t want it uneven.”  

Mydei snorted and flicked water at her. “Idiot.”

Phainon sputtered as the water hit her cheek, wiping the drops off with a glare. “What the hell, Mydei—”

Mydei interrupted her with a laugh, a sharp edge of triumph in her tone. She got to her feet in one smooth motion, walking a couple of steps over. She leaned in very close, almost touching Phainon's nose with her own. “Oops,” she murmured, lips hovering just barely apart from Phainon's. “Wet.”

Phainon swallowed, feeling a little off-kilter at how rapidly Mydei had come up into her space. She tried to maintain a straight face, but that was difficult when Mydei was so close, almost trapping her against the edge of the counter. She cleared her throat, trying to regain some measure of composure.

“R-right. You should, um,” She gestured faintly at Mydei's damp hair, still clinging wetly to her shoulders. “Wash the dye out. It's been enough time.”

Mydei raised an eyebrow, the damp strands of her hair—now streaked with fresh red at the tips—clung to her shoulders, droplets rolling down the sharp lines of her collarbones. “No more offers to help this time?” she echoed. “What’s wrong, Deliverer? Getting shy on me now?”

Phainon fidgeted under that gaze like always, which only made Mydei more determined to push just one inch further.

“You’re standing in my bathroom,” Phainon finally shot back, voice cracking slightly before she cleared her throat and tried again. “So yeah—you can wash your own damn dye out.”

Mydei grinned then. Slow. Sharp.

"Fine by me," She turned deliberately slowly toward the showerhead. "But don’t come crying when I drip red all over your clean floor."

That did it. Phainon hesitated for half a second, just long enough for Mydei’s smirk to deepen, before something in her spine snapped back into place. “Wait,” she said, sharper than before. “No—don’t. Sit back down.”

Mydei paused mid-step, glancing over her shoulder. One brow arched, amused, but she didn’t argue. “Thought you said I could handle it myself.”

“I can change my mind,” Phainon shot back quickly, already reaching to adjust the faucet. 

With a soft huff that might’ve been a laugh, Mydei complied. She pivoted and perched on the rim of the tub again, this time a little more deliberately, watching Phainon the whole way through like this was some kind of game she fully intended to win. She leaned back on her palms, a lazy smirk playing on her features. “Now what?” she asked, watching the other with keen interest.

Phainon opened her mouth, then stopped, recalibrating as she took in Mydei’s posture, the angle, the fact that she was very clearly not taking this seriously. “No,” she said, gesturing again. “Not like that. Turn around—face inside the shower.”

Mydei’s smirk ticked up at the edges, but she shifted anyway, absurdly slow about it. Like she knew exactly how much it got under Phainon’s skin. She turned so she was properly angled toward the tub, one leg still hooked loosely over the edge.

Phainon clicked her tongue. “Both legs,” she added. “You’re going to get water everywhere.”

“Mm,” Mydei hummed, but complied, adjusting her position so she was sitting more squarely on the rim, facing inward.

Phainon hesitated, then, with a brief, exasperated exhale, added, “And sit properly. You’re…” She gestured vaguely, trying and failing to keep her tone purely clinical. “You need space, or it’s just going to run everywhere. So—just—”

Mydei glanced back at her over her shoulder, eyes glinting. “You can say it,” she prompted, voice low with amusement.

Phainon’s jaw tightened. “…Spread your legs a little. Not—” she made a quick, frustrated motion with her hands, “—just enough so it drains into the tub instead of onto my floor.”

Mydei huffed out a quiet laugh, something softer threaded under the teasing this time. “Bossy,” she murmured again, but she did it. Adjusted just enough.

Phainon immediately turned away to fuss with the water, pretending that had been completely normal, that her face wasn’t warming again, that Mydei wasn’t watching her like this was the most entertaining thing she’d seen all day.

“Lean forward,” Phainon added briskly, grabbing the showerhead. “And don’t move this time.”

“Yes, Deliverer,” Mydei replied, mock-obedient, but she leaned forward anyway.

Phainon stepped in, focusing on the task again. On the stream of water, the dye, anything but the way Mydei’s shoulders shifted under her hands or the quiet, charged stillness that settled between them.

“See?” Phainon muttered, more to herself than anything. “Not that complicated.”

“Mm,” Mydei hummed. But she didn’t argue this time.

Phainon hesitated only a second longer before moving. She stepped in closer, circling behind Mydei so she was properly aligned behind her. The edge of the rim pressed lightly against Phainon’s thighs as she found her footing.

“Right here,” she muttered, more to fill the quiet than anything else.

From behind, it was easier to manage. That was what she told herself, anyway. She reached forward, arm passing just beside Mydei’s shoulder as she angled the showerhead down. For a moment she had nowhere to put her other hand, hovering awkwardly before settling it lightly against the side of the tub for balance.

“Lean back a little more,” Phainon added.

Mydei obliged without comment this time, shifting backwards just enough. Her back pressed against Phainon’s chest.

“Stay still,” Phainon murmured, her voice low and just a little hoarse. “Ready?”

Mydei nodded, before her breath hitched as the stream of water traced a path over her sensitive skin. It was pleasantly warm, but that did little to lessen the intensity of the water pressure over her cunt, washing away the dye as the water turned red. She leaned back against Phainon unconsciously, feeling the other woman’s body behind her, warm and solid. She bit back a groan, trying to keep her composure steady, but her thighs tensed as the showerhead moved lower, water trickling down between them.

“I could get used to you being this obedient," Phainon murmured, almost too quietly to hear over the sound of the water.

Mydei could feel herself shudder in response. “You're… decent at this,” she rasped, as Phainon adjusted the angle.

“Yeah?” Phainon's voice was steady, but Mydei could hear the faintest hitch in it, barely there but unmistakable. The showerhead moved lower, much lower this time, and Mydei had to brace her hands on the edge of the tub to keep herself still. She clenched her teeth, fighting back a moan.

Phainon exhaled sharply through her nose, fingers twitching where they still gripped the showerhead. She should've stopped. She should've.  

But Mydei, stretched out bare before her, hair damp and clinging to her shoulders, thighs parted just so—was making it really hard to remember why that mattered. Her pulse hammered in her throat.  

She caught Mydei’s thighs spasm slightly. “...Do you want me to stop?” Phainon asked, leaning over for a better look at the woman’s face.

Mydei opened her eyes, eyes dilated and unfocused, before she took a shaky breath and met Phainon's gaze.

“...No.” Her answer was low, almost a rasp, like it'd been pulled out of her. “...don't stop.”

Phainon's fingers tightened around the showerhead. The water kept running, pinkish swirls circling the drain as the last remnants of dye rinsed away. She should pull back now. Should turn off the water. Should hand Mydei a towel and walk out of this steam-filled bathroom before—

Mydei shifted again, pressing back more firmly against her, and Phainon exhaled sharply through her nose.

“You're clean,” she announced, voice strained. The showerhead wavered in her grip. 

Mydei turned her head just enough to catch Phainon's eye over her shoulder. “Then turn it off,” she murmured, challenge lacing every syllable.

Phainon swallowed, her pulse rabbiting against her ribs. Her fingers flicked off the water with a decisive click. Silence. Just dripping. A droplet slid down Mydei's neck, tracing the curve of her collarbone before disappearing between her breasts. Phainon tracked its path before she could stop herself.

“Happy?” Phainon bit out, tossing the showerhead aside harder than necessary. The plastic clattered against the tile, bouncing once before settling.

Mydei twisted fully around now, knees bumping against the tub's edge as she faced Phainon fully. Water glistened on her collar and all around her thighs, catching the overhead light. “Getting there,” she said, reaching back to remove the towel and wring out her hair in one slow motion. Drops spattered across Phainon's shirtfront. 

Phainon looked down at the spreading wet spots, then back up at Mydei's face. “You did that on purpose.”

“Did I?” Mydei stretched her arms overhead again with deliberate laziness, muscles flexing. “Maybe you should help me dry off too. Since you're already here.”

Phainon's breath hitched. She grabbed the nearest clean towel and threw it directly at Mydei's face. “Dry yourself.”

The damp fabric landed with a soft whump. Mydei peeled it away slowly. “And here I thought you liked taking care of me.”

Despite herself, Phainon's hands trembled. Even as the steam began to dissipate, the bathroom felt far too hot. She stepped closer. She wasn't touching, but the space between them was charged like a live wire. “You're… so unfair,” she muttered.

Mydei's mouth curved further. She leaned back on her hands, wet cunt unashamedly on display, hair now dyed a pretty ruby red. Phainon could see the way her ribs moved with each breath under that laughably unnecessary t-shirt.

Phainon's fingers clenched involuntarily. It was almost ridiculous, this power Mydei had over her. How badly she wanted to touch. To hold, to feel her. To make her cum.

Her jaw tensed. “You're enjoying this.”

“What gave it away?”

Phainon clenched her jaw harder.

“Everything,” she spat. “You. You and your... face. The way you keep looking at me, like you know exactly what—” She broke herself off before she could finish. Damn Mydei for looking so pleased with herself. Like just sitting there in someone else’s bathroom was a triumph. Like Phainon wasn't a few moments away from getting on her knees and begging.

Mydei huffed out another laugh. “I mean,” she said, raising a brow. “You're the one who's staring.”

Oh, Phainon knew she was being baited. Provoked. And still, still, she found herself bristling.

“I'm staring because you're sitting there half-naked,” she bit out. “Just look at you. Anyone would be.”

She caught the movement as the words spilled out. Mydei’s hand flexed as her thighs twitched.

Something dark flashed in Mydei’s eyes. “Anyone, huh?” she murmured, gaze never leaving Phainon's face. Her tone was a clear challenge now. “You're so close. You must have a good view from there. Tell me what you see.”

Phainon swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet Mydei’s gaze, but her eyes kept flickering downward against her will. She saw everything. The way water still clung to her powerful thighs, muscles flexing beneath sun-kissed skin, how Mydei parted her legs just a fraction wider as if to say look. Look at me. Phainon’s knees trembled. And then—  

She dropped.  

One knee hit the damp tile first, then the other. She didn’t even realize she’d moved until she was already there, palms braced against the porcelain edge of the tub, close enough to feel the heat radiating off Mydei’s skin. Her face burned. Her fingers itched to touch, her lips begging to kiss. She hated and loved how easily she folded.  

Mydei’s smirk deepened. “There you go,” she murmured, reaching down to tangle her fingers in Phainon’s damp hair. Not pulling, not yet, just holding. “Finally where you belong.”

Phainon exhaled sharply through her nose.

Her gaze flickered up to Mydei, eyes dark and fixed on her. “You're loving this, aren't you?” she bit out. “Seeing me like this.”

Mydei's hand tightened in her hair. “You know I am. But you still talk too much.”

Phainon swallowed. Then, slowly, she let one hand slide from the tub's edge. Her fingertips ghosted up Mydei's inner thigh, tracing the small droplets still clinging to her skin. Like even something as thoughtless as water could learn devotion in the presence of heat, could hesitate at the edge of leaving Mydei’s skin and choose, again and again, not to. Phainon could feel the way Mydei's breath caught when her fingers brushed higher, when her thumb pressed lightly against her.

“Finally,” Mydei breathed, the word coming out rough, stripped of its usual edge. Something in her expression gave way, turning unguarded, almost as bare as her legs. If Phainon had known it would take this, something close to reverence, to draw honesty out of her, she might have dropped to her knees long ago.

So she didn't answer with words. She leaned in instead, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of Mydei's thigh. Just to feel the way her muscles jumped under her lips. Just to hear the ragged sigh that followed. And then she stopped. Pulled back, and watched Mydei's face twist in frustration.

“Say please,” Phainon murmured against her skin, reveling in the way Mydei shuddered.

Mydei's fingers flexed in her hair. “Phai—”

“Say it.”

A pause. A quiet exhale. “...Please touch me.”

Phainon grinned against her thigh before finally giving in. Her fingers traced over tattooed lines, following them deeper inward. She caressed the junction between Mydei’s thigh and pelvis, pressing more gentle kisses to her inner thigh. Then her hand moved lower still, until her fingers were inches away from Mydei’s clit.

“Can I?” She asked, her low voice eliciting shivers through Mydei’s body.

“Hurry up,” Mydei replied, biting into her own lip as she looked down at Phainon. Steam still curled through the bathroom, softening the edges of everything, but it only seemed to sharpen her. Damp strands clung to her skin, tracing the lines of her throat and collarbones, the faint red at their tips catching the light like embers. From where Phainon was, she had to tilt her head back to meet Mydei’s gaze. And Mydei looked like she belonged above her. Like the edge of the shower was something closer to a throne, and the heat in the air bent inward, centering on her.

Her eyes were half-lidded, but not lazy. Intent. Every inch of her said the same thing without a word.

Come closer.

Phainon wasted no time in beginning to slowly rub at Mydei’s clit with one finger, teasing and touching it lightly. She watched with rapt attention as Mydei shifted her hips around, fruitlessly looking for more friction.

Mydei gasped, her chest hitching as Phainon's hand kept moving, her touch firm and teasing.

“Ah, Phai—” she panted, voice going ragged as the name caught in her throat.

Phainon leaned in closer, her breath ghosting over sensitive skin. “Say ‘please.’ Beg me. Need to know how much you want this, princess.”

Something shadowed Mydei’s expression, a veil drawn back for just a moment, and beneath it something brighter and more dangerous took hold. It burned in her gaze with the intensity of a flame set before an altar, reverent.

“Damn you,” she whispered, her cadence almost a moan.

Phainon chuckled softly, her fingers never stilling as she dragged them low, accumulating slick before dragging them up again, rubbing soft circles against her clit. “Is that how you beg?” she said, her voice a low, teasing rumble.

“Shut up, shut up—” Mydei chanted, seeking more friction with subtle grinds, thinking Phainon might not notice. Her back arched, thighs trembling with the effort. “Please,” she gasped, the word torn between a whimper and a curse. “You know I... I want this…”

“How bad?” Phainon pressed, her hand slowing almost to a stop. “You know what you have to say.”

Mydei’s mouth parted, then pressed thin again, teeth catching briefly at her lower lip like she was deciding whether to bite the words back entirely.

“Please shut up and fucking eat me out already, feel how much— you… mhh, just hurry up…” She mumbled, doing her best to choose words despite the embarrassment and the haze clouding her mind.

Phainon went still. For once, the usual glint of mischief was gone from her expression; when she looked up at Mydei now, it was with a wide-eyed, unwavering focus that felt reverent.

Mydei ran an affectionate hand through white hair. “Come on,” she said, not without a small smile. “Make me cum, okay, Phainon?”

Phainon nodded shakily and lowered herself to bring them even closer. Apparently pleased with Mydei’s admission, she trailed her fingers lower, trailing around Mydei’s entrance. Mydei was already incredibly wet, soaked even, just from the small attention Phainon had given her. Her cunt was leaking slick, wanting even more attention. 

Phainon leaned in without hesitation, lips just barely touching skin. Her eyes flicked up to meet Mydei's. Her fingers slipped lower, pressing against Mydei's entrance. She could feel the shiver that ran through her under her touch, the way her breath caught.

“You're so beautiful,” Phainon murmured, the reverberation of the sound ghosting over Mydei’s cunt. “You know that, right?”

Phainon didn't wait for an answer. She pressed her mouth to Mydei's folds, kissing her slowly. Every movement of her lips was a promise, and when she finally licked a long stripe upward, the sound Mydei made was obscene.

Phainon groaned against her. “Fuck, you taste so good,” she murmured, gripping Mydei's thigh with her free hand. “Could do this forever.”

She dragged her tongue again, much slower this time, reveling in the way Mydei shuddered. Then, without warning, she sucked lightly on Mydei's clit, rolling her tongue against it as a finger finally pushed inside. 

Mydei's back arched violently. “Ah—!”

Phainon smiled against her skin and curled her finger, pressing a kiss to her clit before sucking on it again.

Mydei's head fell back, a series of broken gasps spilling from her lips. Her hand twisted around in Phainon's hair, nails scraping against her scalp. “Ngh— ah, you—”

Phainon's smile stretched. “Not so mouthy anymore, are you?” She pressed her finger a little deeper, curling it again. Mydei's reply dissolved into a helpless moan.

Phainon reveled in the way Mydei clenched around her finger, so soft, her walls fluttering like she was trying to pull her deeper. She could feel every pulse, every tremor as she dragged her finger slowly in and out, savoring the slick heat of her.

But it was Mydei’s thighs that fascinated her most. The way they tensed, the muscles jumping under her skin when Phainon found just the right angle, when she flicked her tongue over Mydei’s clit just so. A choked whine tore from Mydei’s throat, her legs shaking so hard Phainon could see the ripple of it, red markings dancing back and forth.

She eased her finger out just to press a kiss to the inside of Mydei’s thigh, feeling the quiver beneath her lips. “You’re so soft,” she murmured, the words vibrating against damp skin. “Everywhere.”

Then, before Mydei could recover—before she could even think to protest—Phainon ducked back in, licking into her pussy with deliberate, messy strokes. She wanted to hear her fall apart. And Mydei did. Hands twisting in Phainon’s hair, hips jerking forward against her mouth, her moans pitched higher, broken.

Mydei's breath left her, her head falling back, nails digging into Phainon's scalp. She'd never seen this side of Phainon. She'd always known that beneath the cheer and teasing lay something else, something devastating, but Phainon had never let it surface until now. And Mydei loved it.

She threaded her fingers through Phainon's hair, trying to pull her closer even as her body tensed. “More,” she managed through gritted teeth. “Fuck— I want—“

Phainon groaned against her. She drew back to look up at her, breath hot against sensitive skin. “You alright up there?”

Mydei only managed a shaky nod. “Yeah, just— just, keep doing that,” she sighed. “Feels good... s’good.”

“Yeah?” Phainon asked hoarsely. She flicked her tongue over Mydei's clit again, grinning at the way she twitched. “Just good?”

Mydei's eyes darkened instantly. “Don't start,” she warned, tugging impatiently at Phainon's hair. “Stop being a smart ass and just—”

Phainon laughed. She'd forgotten how quickly Mydei got impatient. “So bossy.” She pressed another kiss, this time to the side of her vulva, voice dropping. “Relax, I’m not done with you.”

Mydei's hips jerked forward with a whimper, the last shreds of her patience evaporating. “Ah, ah—” Her voice cracked, fingers tightening.

Phainon didn't tease this time. She pressed in with two fingers now, curling them upward just right as her mouth returned to Mydei's clit with renewed fervor. The wet sounds between them were filthy, obscene, and the way Mydei's breath hitched told Phainon exactly how much she loved it all.

“Oh fuck,” Mydei gasped, thighs shaking violently around Phainon's head as her cunt dripped more and more slick. “Right there, don't stop—”

Phainon hummed against her, the vibration making Mydei's back arch impossibly further. She could feel Mydei tightening around her fingers, and could taste the moment she was right on the edge.

“Come on, please,”  Phainon murmured against slick skin, looking up through her lashes. “Cum on my tongue, Mydei?”

The combination of her words and the relentless pressure of her tongue on her clit and her fingers thrusting upward had Mydei unraveling completely, a choked cry spilling from her lips as she came, her entire body trembling through the waves of pleasure. Her thighs pressed hard against Phainon’s head and the white-haired woman fucked her through it, sucking at her clit even as overstimulation began to settle in.

Phainon didn't let up until Mydei was weakly pushing at her shoulder, oversensitive and spent. When Mydei’s thighs relaxed, she sat back on her heels, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she admired the flushed, panting mess of a woman above her.

“There,” Phainon murmured, voice hoarse with satisfaction as she pressed a final kiss to Mydei's trembling inner thigh. She crawled up the length of her body, pausing to admire the way sweat glistened against golden skin, how Mydei's chest still rose and fell with ragged breaths.

When she reached her face, Phainon brushed damp strands of blonde hair from Mydei's forehead before leaning in close enough to share the same air. “You were beautiful,” she whispered, lips ghosting over Mydei's parted ones. “The way you fell apart for me… fuck.”

Mydei's response was a weak but indignant scoff, though the effect was ruined by how she instinctively tilted her chin up, chasing Phainon's mouth. “Unbelievable. Eating me out before you even kiss me…”

Phainon grinned, closing the distance between them at last. The kiss was slow, lazy, a contrast to the frenzy from before.

Mydei could taste herself on Phainon’s tongue, and the thought sent a fresh thrill through her. Breaking away, she rested their foreheads together. Her hand found Phainon's waist, pulling her closer until they were balanced precariously over a showered ledge that had seen way too much in one day.

“Could’ve brought me to your room, at least.”

Phainon laughed, the sound bright and startled. “Is that right? Weird. I thought someone liked me on my knees?”

Mydei yanked her close again, pressing a few more hungry kisses. “Take the hint. Can we take this to the actual bedroom?” Mydei asked breathlessly.

Phainon seemed to take this as yet another opportunity to tease her.

“You’re waiting for more even after the lengths I’ve gone to please you? What greed.”

She paused, making a show out of pretending to consider the request. After 10 seconds, which felt more like hours to Mydei, who was already getting wet again, Phainon continued.

“Although, you followed all my instructions really well today. If you think you can sustain yourself against me, then I guess I’ll take you up on it.” She grinned, as she gracefully stood from the floor and extended a hand to Mydei, soaked and catching her breath. 

Mydei took Phainon's hand with a scoff, but her grip was firm. Maybe a little too firm, fingers digging into Phainon's wrist as she hauled herself up. The second she was on her feet, she yanked Phainon flush against her, catching her off-balance.

“You're the one who’s gonna have trouble sustaining,” Mydei growled against her ear. Her free hand slid down Phainon's back. “Because now it's my turn.”

Phainon shivered, whether from the words or the possessive bite of Mydei's lithe fingers, she couldn’t tell. She tilted her head, pretending nonchalance even as her pulse jumped under the touch. “Big talk from someone who—”

Mydei cut her off by hauling her into a searing kiss, teeth catching Phainon's lower lip. When she pulled back, her amber eyes burned with intent.

“Bed. Now.”

Phainon swallowed hard.

“...Okay,” she breathed, suddenly very aware of how thoroughly she’d just been outplayed. Mydei smirked and shoved her out the bathroom door.

Phainon barely had time to yelp before Mydei was on her, shoving her backward onto the bed with a force that made the frame creak. She landed with a bounce, white hair fanning out like spilled milk across the dark sheets.

“Oof—Mydei!” she whined as Mydei climbed over her, already tugging at the hideous top Phainon insisted on wearing. “That was artistic! It has pockets!”

“It looks like something a middle schooler stole from their dad’s garage sale,” Mydei muttered between kisses down Phainon’s neck, fingers already working at the flimsy buttons. “And I’m burning it.”

“It’s vintage!” Phainon protested weakly, even as she arched into Mydei’s mouth when teeth grazed her collarbone.

“Vintage trash.” With a final yank, the top gave way (one button pinged off into oblivion), revealing smooth skin, impressive musculature, and flushed curves beneath. Mydei didn’t waste time. Her hands were everywhere in seconds, mapping muscle and heat while her lips found Phainon's again in another deep, filthy kiss.

Phainon moaned into it this time, hands flying up to twist in golden-red strands as Mydei pinned her wrists above her head with one hand. “You’re awfully needy,” Phainon panted when she finally was awarded a chance to speak.

“And you're overdressed," Mydei shot back, smirking before ducking down to bite lightly at one peaked nipple through the fabric of her sports bra.

Phainon whimpered—and then laughed breathlessly as clothes kept coming off until there was absolutely nothing left between them but sweat-slick skin, Phainon’s panties, and shared breath.

“Happy?” she gasped against Mydei's shoulder.

“No.” The word rumbled low in Mydei's throat as she shifted atop Phainon, hips rolling slow. “You're still not naked enough.”

Phainon could only shiver. This woman would be the death of her, and what a grand finale would that be.

Mydei grinned against the sun tattooed on her neck, all teeth. Her hand traced down Phainon's abdomen, and lower, teasing the edge of her panties. When she spoke, her words were a low, gravelly murmur against Phainon's ear.

“Lift. Up.”

She punctuated it with a bite to the shell of her ear.

Phainon didn't hesitate. She arched into Mydei's touch with a shiver, lifting her hips as Mydei slid the lace down her legs and over her feet. Mydei tossed the lace aside like it was evidence of a crime. Which, in her opinion, it absolutely was.

She leaned back just enough to take in the full view: Phainon sprawled beneath her, breathless and bare, skin glowing under the dim bedroom light, muscles twitching with anticipation. Her thighs fell open without prompting.

“Finally,” Mydei breathed, not a sigh, but a vow. She didn’t go for her cunt. Not yet.

Instead, she dragged slow kisses down Phainon’s torso, nipping at her hip bones like she was claiming new territory. Her thumbs traced circles around slick folds, so close, but never quite touching where Phainon needed it most.

“Look at me,” Mydei commanded softly.

Phainon obeyed instantly, her blue eyes wide and dark with want. Mydei smiled then. A real one. Slow and devastating as she dipped two fingers into warm heat without warning.

“Yeah… that's what I wanted to see.”

Phainon couldn't have stopped the whimper even if she tried. Her head fell back onto the pillow, the long lines of her neck begging to be bitten some more. But Mydei wasn't having any of it. She took Phainon's chin between warm fingers, forcing her to meet her eyes.

“Did I say you could look away?”

Phainon couldn't breathe. How did Mydei reduce her to this, so damn easily? She shook her head slowly. “No.”

A low, possessive smile curled the corners of Mydei's lips. Her eyes never left Phainon's as she slowly, torturously curled her fingers. Once, twice, finding the exact pace to make Phainon's breath hitch. Her thumb brushed over her clit teasingly just once, before she moved on to more pressing concerns.

“Good girl,” Mydei murmured, shifting down her body. She left kisses and love-bites on her path. Along her hip, on her inner thigh, marking where she'd been until she settled between her legs. 

She didn’t break eye contact, staring up into blue before she leaned in and dragged her tongue through Phainon’s slit slowly, deeply, savoring every shudder it pulled from her.

Phainon gasped, hips jerking up off the bed. “Ah, Mydei—!”

“Ah-ah.” Mydei pressed a hand to her stomach, pinning her down. Her eyes gleamed with wicked satisfaction. “You don’t get to move unless I say so.”

Another long lick, this time from her entrance up to her clit, and Phainon whimpered like she was being unraveled thread by thread. Mydei hummed against her folds, voice low and smug between greedy swipes of her tongue. Soon, her fingers returned to their place buried between Phainon’s folds, curling upwards to match the rhythm of her tongue.

“My Angel likes?” Mydei cooed, her words soft-spoken despite the speed of her fingers inside Phainon’s cunt, milking her slick for all she was worth.

Phainon nodded vigorously at that, whimpering out desperate affirmations between her low moans. Her thighs trembled.

“So you really enjoy it when I play with you here? Such a lewd girl, I really can’t get enough of you,” Mydei teased, returning her mouth to chastely kissing and sucking lightly at Phainon’s clit, fucking her fingers into her without mercy. “And you can’t get enough of my fingers. You’ve been needy for me all day, haven’t you?”

Phainon could only nod desperately. Mydei applied more pressure.

“Say it,” Mydei said against her clit, fingers curling just right, squelching noises filling the room. “Tell me how bad you wanted this.”

Phainon whimpered, back arching off the bed even as Mydei’s hand pressed her down. “Y-yes—!”

“Yes what?” A sharp twist of her wrist made Phainon cry out. “Be specific, Deliverer. I want to hear you say it.”

“I wanted—ah!—I wanted your mouth on me… your fingers… just you, Mydei–” Her voice cracked beautifully. “Wanted you to make me come like only you can…”

Mydei stilled, both tongue and touch, and Phainon let out a broken whine. “Look at me,” she insisted again, low and rough. When Phainon’s dazed blue eyes met hers, Mydei smiled, victorious.

“Don’t try to get quiet.”

She pulled her fingers out with a filthy pop, dragging them up through slick folds before finally replacing them with the hot stroke of her tongue.

Phainon shattered into incoherent noise. And Mydei? She just kept going.

“Ah, ah, Mydei, fuck—ngh—!” Phainon cried out, approaching the edge as Mydei’s ministrations only continued, sending her deeper and deeper into pleasure. “Mmh, I’m gonna— I’m gonna cum— please just let me finish—!” She begged, like it was second nature.

Mydei’ groaned against her, tongue delving deeper and deeper into Phainon’s cunt as fingers returned to Phainon’s clit, stroking quickly. She felt it, the frantic clench of Phainon’s thighs, the way her hips jerked against her mouth despite being pinned down, the breathless stutter in her moans. She growled low, possessive, and redoubled her efforts, switching so that her tongue swirled hard over Phainon’s swollen clit while two fingers thrust deep and curled upward just so, pressing against that slick, trembling spot inside.

“Cum for me,” she demanded against dripping folds. “Let go. I want it all.”  

A choked moan tore from Phainon’s throat as her back arched violently off the bed, Mydei’s hand the only thing keeping her grounded, and then it happened: a hot pulse of release splashing across Mydei’s chin and neck as Phainon squirted, waves of pleasure ripping through her in relentless succession.

Mydei didn’t pull away. She drank every second of it, lapped at the flood with greedy swipes of tongue, moaning like it was worship, until Phainon collapsed into a shaking mess beneath her, gasping for air between broken whimpers. She rubbed Phainon’s thighs and kissed at her skin as she rode it out. Only then did she crawl up beside that beautiful ruin and press a slow kiss to trembling lips.

“Well done,” Mydei whispered into them, and let herself be savored too.

They stayed like that for a moment, together in blissful silence as the fog in Phainon’s brain lessened, relishing in the feeling of strong legs tangled around her own, and fingers idly drawing shapes into her skin.

Mydei's lips curved into a lazy smile. Even the air hung differently around them, heavy now with the scent of their satisfied desire and sweat. She rolled onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow to study Phainon's disheveled form. With her face flushed, lips parted, and freshly dyed hair clinging damply to her skin, she looked sinful.

Mydei hummed, the sound rumbling deep in her chest. “You look wrecked, Deliverer,” she murmured. It was impossible not to admire the sight. Her gaze lingered tenderly on every curve, sweeping over Phainon's torso, her flushed breasts, bitten thighs, until finally settling back on her face.

Phainon didn't answer at first, still too breathless to form words. Her gaze met Mydei's, and the corners of her mouth lifted into a smile.

“Whose fault is that?” Phainon asked, her voice a hoarse rasp.

Mydei's smirk widened, sharp as a knife's edge. “I’d say the fault lies on the woman who begged for more, over and ohh–”

“Haha, that’s so funny,” Phainon said, palm pressed over Mydei’s mouth.

Mydei pulled the hand away with a short-lasted glare. “Stop it. Tell me how you’re feeling,” she insisted, draping herself over Phainon’s body.

Phainon froze, allowing Mydei to get comfortable. “I'm feeling fine, that was all really… It was fine.” Phainon mumbled. She sighed contentedly as she felt the shift upwards to leave a trail of kisses up her neck. But as the kisses turned to nipping, and as Mydei’s mouth ventured closer and closer to hers… The exhaustion of one climax turned to the anticipation for another… Or, perhaps, the anticipation to prove to Mydei just how good she could be.

“Just fine?” Mydei asked, mouth pressed to skin. 

“Well,” Phainon began, running a hand over Mydei’s cheek fondly. “Above all else, I’m glad your place’s water isn’t working.”

Mydei stilled, staring at the white-haired woman incredulously. “I don’t know how you landed your job, sometimes,” she muttered. “I really don’t.”

“What am I missing now?” Phainon asked.

Mydei pinched her cheek. “The water in your apartment is fine. The water on this entire floor is fine.”

Phainon nodded. She knew that already. “Yeah. But the water in your apartment?”

Mydei looked away.

“Is also functioning normally.”

Phainon blinked. There was a long pause as she digested Mydei's words. And then her face split into a grin. “You've got to be kidding me, Mydei.”

She started to sit up, but Mydei pushed her back down with a hand on her shoulder. “No, no. Stay right there. You look far too good to ruin it by talking.”

Phainon stared up at her, lips twisted with annoyance. “I'm not talking,” she muttered, “I'm just... commenting. You lied to me? To get me to dye your pubes?”

Mydei groaned into her neck. “Haikas, that second part was all you.”

Phainon felt a familiar sensation settle in her chest, slow and certain, a quiet, blooming smugness she didn’t bother to hide. Because really, this had gone exactly how she might’ve dreamed, and now Mydei was right here, close and pliant in a way she rarely allowed. If that took a little manipulation to achieve, well, Phainon couldn’t bring herself to feel even remotely mad about it.

“You weren’t complaining twenty minutes ago,” she grinned.

A matching smirk curled at the corners of Mydei's lips. “Now, I wouldn't say I lied..." she drawled, shifting her body so she was straddling Phainon's hips. Her hands moved to Phainon's hands, entangling them together. “I mean, the water pressure in my shower isn’t nearly as good. It’s unfair.”

Phainon’s expression flickered, her gaze dragging briefly toward the bedroom like she could still picture it, the steady stream, the heat, the way Mydei had leaned into it without hesitation.

Her shower. The one she used every day without thinking. And now Mydei was talking about it like it was something worth crossing apartments for, something better than her own. Phainon’s lips pressed together, a small, ridiculous spike of jealousy flaring up, sharp and possessive, at the idea that something so mundane and hers could be compared, could be preferred.

Mydei's gaze was sharp. She knew exactly what Phainon was thinking, and she had zero intention of letting her get away with it. She leaned down until they were nearly nose to nose, still holding down Phainon's arms. Her voice was a low, teasing hum. “What's that look for? Jealous of your own shower?”

Phainon knew she was being a brat. She knew it. But she wasn't the type to back down so easily. “It’s not jealousy,” she huffed, squirming under Mydei's weight.

Mydei tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. “It's...?”

Phainon's gaze flicked away, her cheeks coloring slightly. “It's stupid.”

“Stupid?” Mydei echoed, a smirk on her lips. She shifted back fractionally, just enough to rest more comfortably on Phainon's thighs. Her hold on her wrists relaxed. Her gaze was a heavy, steady weight. Phainon could handle a lot of things. But when Mydei looked at her like this, focused and sharp, it always made her feel a little too warm.

“Mhm,” she mumbled, trying not to squirm. “Stupid. Ridiculous.”

Mydei watched her squirm, satisfaction coiling in her gut. She liked this. Having Phainon beneath her, flushed and defiant, her hands still trapped in Mydei's hold, squirming and stubborn and so, so easy to tease. And she didn't feel like letting her off the hook just yet. Mydei leaned back, shifting her weight until one of her thighs slid under Phainon’s own. “Come on,” she drawled. “Use your words.”

Phainon swallowed hard. Having Mydei's leg brushing between her thighs was doing things to her. Things that made it increasingly difficult to think. She wet her lips, a spark of defiance flaring in her eyes. “I'm not…” A pause. Then, quieter, breathless. “I don't like... sharing.”

Mydei had planned to take her sweet time with this, but something in Phainon's voice had her own chest tightening. She could tease her for hours, and she was more than willing to do just that, but suddenly…

She didn't really want to. She wanted to give Phainon what she wanted.

Mydei's expression turned into a softer, less wolfish smile. She released Phainon's wrists, bringing her hands to the underside of her thighs instead.

“Pretty thing. Come here.”

Phainon's breath hitched at the gentle command. She'd never admit it, not even under threat of torture, but a part of her had been waiting for this.

For Mydei to take the lead, to give her what she'd been wanting. She shifted up tentatively, settling in her lap. The change in position brought them face-to-face, their chests touching, breaths mingling. Mydei leaned in, capturing Phainon's lips with her own. Her hands slid up the back of Phainon's thighs, gripping just tight enough to make her gasp into the kiss. Then, slowly, she guided their hips together, their cunts pressing between each other’s legs in perfect sync.

“Like this?” Mydei murmured against her mouth, rolling her hips forward slightly. The pressure sent a jolt through them both.

Phainon whimpered, nails digging into Mydei’s shoulders. “Y-yeah… exactly like that.”

Mydei smiled and did it again, firm, grinding thrusts building rhythm as their breaths quickened. Sweat slicked their skin, the room warming with every moan muffled by messy kisses. “So greedy,” Mydei husked between nips at Phainon’s jaw. “All this because I complimented your shower?”

Phainon laughed breathlessly as she pushed back against her lover just as hard. “You– Ah– Ahh, Mydei—”

Mydei chuckled darkly into her neck and grinded into her harder, their slick heat sliding together in a filthy rhythm. Moans tangled between them as they moved faster, desperate thrusts and clenched hands and teeth on shoulders to keep from moaning too loud. Their pace turned frantic. Unruly.

Phainon threw her head back, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure coiled hot and tight within her. She clenched her fingers in Mydei's hair, needing more friction but at the same time not knowing if she could even take it.

“Mhh, Mydei—” she whimpered, legs trembling.

By now, Mydei knew that tone all too well. She could see the way Phainon's body clenched, how her thighs shook and her nails dug into her shoulders. She pulled away just a fraction, leaving enough room to speak against Phainon's ear. “You're close,” she whispered.

Phainon nodded frantically, breath coming in short, desperate gasps. “Y-yes—please—”

Mydei’s smirk widened. She loved this, the way Phainon unraveled so completely, how she begged without shame when it was just the two of them. She slowed her thrusts deliberately, drawing out every maddening roll of her hips. “Say it,” she murmured against her ear, voice rough with need. “Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck— ah, it’s you, I want you,” Phainon whimpered, trying to speed up their rhythm.

Mydei chuckled and finally gave in, snapping her hips forward sharply, grinding down hard where their cunts were joined. It didn’t take much, their combined slick and desperate movements building until they reached a peak.

Phainon cried out as pleasure ripped through her, back arching off the bed as she came undone beneath Mydei with a shuddering moan. And only seconds later did Mydei follow, burying a groan into Phainon’s neck as she clamped down around nothing at all but sensation… their bodies still tangled together long after they’d stopped moving.

Phainon lay gasping, her chest heaving as the last tremors ran through her legs. Mydei collapsed atop her, warm and heavy, breath hot against the curve of her neck. For a long moment, all was quiet, save for their ragged breathing and the soft hum of the city outside.

Mydei shifted just enough to pull Phainon into a tighter embrace, nose brushing white hair.

“...Stay over tonight?” Phainon mumbled against her shoulder.

Mydei smiled before kissing her temple softly. “Only if your shower's still working fine, my love. I think I need you to clean me up again.”