Fated (Bloodhound x Eve (OC))

Promise

"There is no shame in such things. I am pleased with how well your body responds to me. Now it is your turn to see how well mine has responded to you."

--------------

Eve rearranged her armful of clothes to reach for the pack of underwear that hung on the wall. She squinted at the packaging: basic briefs, cotton blend, a seven pack with three free bonus pairs. Not the cutest panties she'd ever bought by far, but practical and inexpensive. Bloodhound's penchant for ripping or cutting her underwear off of her meant her supply was dwindling. Ten new pairs would top up her stock.

"There you are," Loba's musical voice called out to her.

Eve was about to put the pack on top of her precariously balanced stack of leggings and jackets, but a well-manicured hand swatted the box out of her hands.

"Hey!" Eve squeaked. "I need underwear, okay?"

"Sure." Loba raised an eyebrow. "But not those."

"What's wrong with them?" she asked, bending to pick up the package. The corner had been smashed in from the force of Loba's swipe. "It's a good deal."

"A good deal? For who? Blocky cut. Poorly stitched. You'll see that big line right through your leggings. Not to mention they won't do your ass any justice at all. Now that would truly be a shame."

Eve hung the slightly-damaged box back up, her cheeks flushing pink. "What should I get instead? They don't have a lot of options here."

"C'mon, beautiful. Buy what you need from here, then I can show you the last place you will ever shop for lingerie." Loba laughed, the sound lowering into a purr of amusement. "Only the best."

"Okay, we'll see," Eve murmured as she hastily moved to follow Loba. The woman's high-heeled sandals clicked on the floor of the shop, looking far too expensive against the scuffed linoleum.

Eve dumped her items on the checkout counter, the plastic hangers clacking against the wood. While the clerk scanned each item, she looked to Loba who scrolled on her phone and felt a pang of envy. There was something effortlessly graceful about Loba. She radiated an inner strength and confidence that Eve wished she had. Today, the woman wore a simple, pale yellow sundress that hugged her curves beautifully before floating away in an elegant swish of crisp linen.

The staff member stuffed all of Eve's clothes into a large plastic bag as she paid. She looked from her bag to Loba and frowned.

"You always wear such cute clothes," Eve said wistfully as she held her phone over the card reader, and received the green checkmark that the funds had been successfully transferred. "I always wear the same things."

"You have your own style," Loba assured her, looking her up and down. "Combat boots, leggings, T-shirt or tank. It's cute, casual. Nothing wrong with that."

"I guess." Eve grabbed the bag and followed Loba out of the store, and down the street. It was a struggle to keep up with the taller woman's long steps.

"Besides," Loba added, her voice taking on a devious edge. "You are getting plenty of attention just as you are."

"Wait." Eve blinked and lunged forward to grab Loba's wrist to slow her down. "What do you mean?"

Loba stopped and held her phone up for Eve. Her screen showed a still from a drone video, and Eve's stomach twisted at the sight. The social media post featured a close-up of Eve's legging-covered rear as she was bent over a metal crate, taking aim at a battle below with a Sentinel. Her pants were stretched tight across her backside, revealing the slight bump of her mound between. Though she was covered, it left very little to the imagination. The caption featured several eggplants and water droplet emojis, and as Loba scrolled through the comments underneath, saw many suggestive gifs and comments that she would be mortified to read aloud. A few of the commenters had even chosen the photo as their own profile picture.