#vyn shut up

[spdrvyn]

hi! closing requests for now because i want to finish everything that i have in my inbox before receiving any more. taking this opportunity to say thank you so much for the recent support on my posts!

i really enjoy writing these, so i'm even more glad that all of you are enjoying them as well. i hope that the people that regularly reblog or like my posts enjoy some of the content i will post in the future if i ever do. thank you!

i'll be getting to requests soon :3 i just have one more original fic idea i absolutely NEED to get out first.

[y0noirs]

anyone want an analysis on the newest tears of themis MR cards from the cn server? no? here it is anyway. obvious spoilers for the new MR card set (empyrean touch) under the cut. you can see the PV here. you can see the cards in HD here, and the cards in video form here (credit to both nxx_eun_03 and NXXgallery respectively for those)

i’ll mostly be writing about the visuals of the cards and the imagery (in my own interpretation) in this post. there’s other analyses on twitter about other parts of the PV and the cards, but i just want to talk about the visuals because they are causing me great agony and yearning. also to note, for transparency’s sake: even though i look at the new cards, i do not read story spoilers that often. my frame of reference is still what’s released on the global server. even then, i mostly pay attention to my favorites (that being marius and luke). i may get things wrong or miss things. 

right off, the cards are referencing one of the pre-release(?) promotional pics for tears of themis, as well as the login screen in-game. there’s a great thread that analyzes it here, which i will be referencing here and there. for the most part, all you need to remember is that rosa is depicted as lady justice, or the greek goddess of truth, themis. depictions of lady justice include: scales, a blindfold, a sword, and a snake. artem, vyn, luke, and marius are in those respective positions, which the linked thread goes into.

also interesting is that there’s absolutely no dialogue in this PV. usually, the boys will have a line or two that they say, somewhat related to their MR card. but it’s just music and visuals here, which is interesting! not sure how exactly but it is!

side note, it’s interesting, given that the CN server is approaching the 3rd anniversary of the game, that they chose to return to this original promotional picture. the boys are wearing the same outfits and designs in the picture as they do in the MR cards. i believe we’re approaching a very important point in the story for the game, seeing as this set has a lot of implications for rosa and the boys. but enough of that - let’s get into me agonizing over these MR cards!

starting with luke, he’s already interesting right off the bat. you can notice that, of all the other leads, he’s not touching the statue at all. it’s already one thing that he was gripping a sword in the original promo pic to the point where he was bleeding, but it’s another to have him make absolutely no contact with the statue whereas the others are intimately touching it.

you could say that he’s in a position of worship with the statue. his face reaches up, tries to lay a kiss on the surface of the statue’s face, but doesn’t make it all the way. he’s kept his face close, almost as if that’s all he can let himself do. like it’s almost blasphemous to love a deity this intimately. additionally, his hand remains wrapped around the sword’s blade, but it no longer draws blood like it did in the promo pic.

this can be seen as growth. people have pointed it out, but the fact that he’s no longer bleeding could symbolize the fact that he’s no longer pushing himself as far for rosa’s sake in the story. their relationship, which was previously sort of unbalanced due to the lengths luke would go to for rosa’s happiness, is now one of equal standing. he is still very devoted to her and would likely do all he can for her, but he no longer keeps himself at length from her to preserve her happiness. he’s not hurting himself anymore when it comes to their relationship. 

he still has a lot of hang-ups, but he’s definitely devoted, almost worshipping rosa. and the aborted kiss in his card definitely reflects the yearning, and possibly the control he tries to maintain when it comes to her. 

next is artem in the position of the scales. he has a rather intimate position with the statue, but to focus on is how his hand holds onto the statue’s hand.

in the original promo pic, artem has his hand directly on the scales, almost as if he were keeping them balanced. however, in his MR card, he is instead holding up the statue’s arm, while the statue herself holds the scales on her own. i believe this symbolizes a sort of equality in their relationship. one of the more concerning things between artem and rosa is the fact that they were in a working relationship where artem was technically rosa’s boss. however, they moved past that as much as possible as they became partners.

with the support he offers to the statue’s arm, as well as his arm around the waist, i believe his MR card evokes how artem supports rosa. their relationship isn’t unbalanced - instead, he provides support and guidance when she needs/wants it. through her struggles, artem will keep her steady, and when it comes to justice, he will assist her. he doesn’t influence her sense of justice. i don’t think he ever has. he always supports her view as much as possible.

i think his MR card has depicted their relationship in a very lovely and intimate way. in the context of worship, he will trust in her judgment, because he trusts her wholeheartedly.

the meaning of the blindfold is, as we know it, the protrayal of “justice is blind.” as the thread linked above says, it was also a depiction of deception. however, the statue in the MR shows that themis herself is removing the blindfold, while the promo pic has vyn simply holding the blindfold, possibly taking it off.

of note is that vyn is holding rosa’s chin up, as well as pressing a kiss to the blindfold/her eyes. he also has the other end of the blindfold in his other hand, signifying that he is taking off her blindfold with her. my initial belief was that his lips on her blindfold was a reminder that justice must remain impartial as possible. that she must remain steadfast in her judgment.

after further thinking, i believe that vyn truly is taking off her blindfold so that she can see the world as it really is. throughout the story, he doesn’t really shy away from showing her the truth of things. vyn taking off her blindfold is a reflection of that, but holding her chin up symbolizes how he will support her in the struggles she may have while facing the truth. his hand is a reminder that she will struggle. that the truth is often not pretty. the cracks on the statue’s face reflects this. but he will be there for her, to help her through her hardship. there’s an almost melancholy expression on her face that implies he knows what sort of hardships she will have.

even if it hurts her, even if he is aware of the suffering she will face, he will be there for her to encourage her through the pain. 

the hand that marius holds is supposed to hold the scales of justice. in his MR card, though, the statue no longer holds them; instead, he has entwined their hands together with a necklace that has a snake on it.

there were a lot of theories of marius in the place of the snake for the original statue. with the snake being the symbol of evil, and the original statue of lady justice stepping on a snake to symbolize her triumphing over evil, it was almost like they were setting marius up for this position of betrayal and evil - especially since he and his family are so closely associated with serpents.

but in the in-game login screen, the statue of themis is not stepping on the snake. there was never going to be a scenario where rosa would defeat marius or anything. marius’ MR card means something entirely different, with meanings completely true to him and the development of their relationship.

by entwining their hands with the snake necklace, marius is willingly involving rosa with his family and his name. his hold on her hand is gentle and intimate, almost in the same degree of worship as luke. he boldly holds her close, leaning in as if to whisper in her ear.

i personally think that the act of whispering in her ear is marius is trying to ask/beg something of her. marius is not the type to burden others, keeping his suffering close to his chest so that he can appear the tall, confident heir to pax. with his position of bringing her close, whispering in her ear, and entwining their hands, he makes a request: to bear the burden of his name and legacy, maybe even help him purge the evil in his name. again, marius is not the type to ask for help. but as he grows closer to rosa, and grows more selfish, he will allow himself to burden her and request things of her. it’s a very good reflection of how his character progresses through the story.

anyway that’s a lot of words to describe how insane this MR set makes me. the yearning and love, the accurate symbolization and representation of character growth and dynamics, this is a very beautiful card set. i can’t wait for when this comes to global, and i can’t wait to see what 3rd anniversary has in store (:

(and just a reminder - this is all very biased and possibly even inaccurate. most importantly, this is my interpretation. i’m open to talking about it, though, because holy hell this MR card set makes me insane!)

[diavorchid]

oh my god not to be that me again here, but i wanna draw this as jack and his phonograph akajsjssj

[actualbird]

my older brother is home from japan for a few days :DDD and he brought home the merch i asked him to get for me from the Manhattan Ice Cream x Tears of Themis collab which...were randomized upon getting and...

VYN ILU BUT...COME ON!!!!! COULDNT EVEN LET ME GET LIKE, ONE (1) LUKE????? (artem, ur on thin ice but im giving u a pass for now bc this is only the first time uve nerfed my irl merch pulls. this is vyn's SECOND TIME NERFING MINE...)

theyre all very cute tho, so im keeping one of each unique boy and sell the extra exactly the same vyn stand cuz vyn didnt have the decency to make the other standee of himself be the alternate hoodie design JHSKJFDS

that being said, heyy if any ph ppl within metro manila are interested to buy the extra vyn standee, dm me!!!

i havent settled on a price yet (tho it'll be around 500php~ most probably, not including shipping) but im also open to trading merch espECIALLLYYY if uve got a rare official luke merch (that i dont already have HAHA) that ur willing to trade. i Will accept certain lukes as currency, we can talk it over thru dms, if ever.

(sorry only within metro manila, i dont have the braincells right now to figure out shipping any farther 😭🙏)

[siennaditbot]

Here's a random take:

'Ore' is the most attractive pronoun in Japanese.

'Boku' is pretty close, though. And I have a soft spot for 'oresama' characters, too, but idk if real people use it.

It's just that characters who use 'ore' are 👌🏻 I love the boyish charm it adds? Wikipedia says it "establishes a sense of masculinity".

I just

Eugh

I love voices and the pronoun adds to it :>

[vynegar]

i was looking at my old drafts and

man, i was NOT exaggerating when i said i’d been thinking about those themes for a year. i’m kind of surprised that i was already connecting these specific ones together so early on

[rhenuvee]

Hoyoverse men who are not used to receiving affection, and get absolutely flustered when you do the tiniest things.

They are usually the ones who flatter- with the elegant words rolling off their silver tongues, it is hard not to be enamoured by someone like him. He is a quick thinker, coming up with the most witty and clever quips that puts up a challenge, even when you don't expect it. The way he says these things as well and how smoothly they flow don't help you resist him either. It's no fair that his charm is also paired with his good looks.

And for you, he is no different. In fact, he amps it up to 200% when it comes to you. How else will he praise your beauty and intelligence? He never fails to pay you compliments with such eloquent sayings that you'd never think of yourself. There's always something new with him as his sharp thinking allows him to come up with antics to tease you with. The best part to him is when you get flustered- cheeks getting warm, eyes clenching shut a little meek to his affection, your shy "thank you" you manage to utter... he loves it all.

So, one day when you do something- that's not even a grand gesture, he doesn't know what to do with himself. And it's more embarrassing for him when he knows you mean it genuinely, and though you weren't trying to fluster him, you did. You could be paying him a compliment back, except your tone is much more innocent than his playful one. In fact, you didn't even have to say anything, for you could just be showing him a new outfit you got and instantly- he's at a loss for words.

He covers his face: bringing up his hand, turning his head so his bangs shield him, a hat, or anything. Anything so you wouldn't see him blushing over such a small gesture. Though, sometimes you catch him anyway. No matter, he will compose himself and show you he thinks the same. He's willing to accept, because it's you after all.

Kaeya, Childe, Ayato, Lyney, Wriothesley, Argenti, Aventurine, Dr. Ratio, Jing Yuan, Sampo, Vyn, Marius

[gurofushi]

sex education

𝜗𝜚 marius von hagen x fem! reader x vyn richter

summary; marius von hagen's private tutor, vyn richter, doesn't quite approve of how your boyfriend recklessly toys with your body. luckily, mr. vin has a master's degree in sex education and he's more than willing to share a thing or two for today's lesson.

warnings; nsfw, cuckolding (i guess?? marius is ur bf but vyn's doing most of the work)

a/n; i've had this in my drafts for probably like a year now?? 😭 i don't play tot anymore i apologize if i depicted any elements included in this imagine incorrectly!

🦷 (apologies for any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language^^)

“no, that's not quite right, you're not supposed to pet it like that. don't tell me that's how you treat actual cats?”

vyn sighs, watching as marius toy with your clit, moving his thumb in quick and tight circles. groaning in frustration, he stops and pulls his hand away from your wet cunt.

“shut up, vyn. if you're so good at making girls cum, then prove it.” he hisses, completely ignoring your whines of displeasure when he diverted his attention away from you.

you silently huff as you watch them bicker on and on about how bad of a job marius is doing– or about how vyn is acting like he ‘enjoys having a stick up his ass’ when he ‘brags about how great he is at making girls cum on his ugly shoes.’

if it wasn't for the way your own juices dripped onto the sheets from your aching pussy, you'd already be laughing your heart out at your boyfriend's inappropriate remarks.

with a small smile adorning his lips, vyn takes off his glasses and makes his way towards the bed where you and marius laid on.

“if you'll have me.”

marius grumbles and moved to sit beside you– not without rolling his eyes, of course. taking a hold of your hand, he squeezes it tightly and pecks your forehead. the gesture made your heart flutter.

he was obviously jealous and didn't like the idea of having to share you. but he brushed off his own thoughts away, taking advantage of the opportunity to properly learn how to please you.

you didn't have a problem with the way marius made love to you, but it was endearing to see how willing he was to bring you into more pleasure.

smiling at your sweet exchange, vyn averts his gaze back onto you. he settles on the spot between your legs and starts to caress your thighs gently, gliding his hands up and down your sides before finally taking your clit between his thumb and pointer finger.

you could immediately tell the difference between the way the two men treated you. when it comes to sex, marius' always moves with a sense of urgency and desire. he absolutely adores you and your body, so when you two got in the mood, he'd always run his hands all over your body. relishing in the way your soft skin reacted to his touches, he focuses on giving you as much simulation as he can offer, just so he can have you begging him to stop while his fingers abuses your insides relentlessly.

meanwhile, vyn likes to take his time. he takes pride in being able to have his significant other writhing under him, pleading for him to go faster. he's like a snail, going at a frustratingly slow pace while leaving tracks of his saliva on their body. he knows what he's doing, of course. he takes pleasure in watching his partner bounce on his cock as they plead for release, he always stays still until he sees those pretty tears slide down their cheeks, before immediately gripping onto their hips and mercilessly thrusting up into them.

you didn't realize it at the time, but maybe you really did enjoy the change of pace. vyn's handwork was thorough but efficient, and before you knew it, you had your hips lifting off the bed as the sweet feeling of release finally buzzes through your whole body.

“see, that wasn't so hard was it?” vyn chuckled in amusement, though it wasn't clear if he was talking to you for finally cumming or to marius for finally making me cum.

marius huffs, rolling his eyes whilst brushing his fingers through your hair. “whatever, richter. lesson's over.”

vyn laughs at your boyfriend's angry tone, before promptly getting up to gather his belongings.

“i hope you've learned something, von hagen. i'll see you during our next lesson.” he said as he approaches us for the last time, giving your sensitive cunt a small pat before he leaves the room altogether– making marius even more upset at the way you responded to the gesture with a whimper.

silence overcomes the room for a brief moment, nothing but your laboured breathing filling the hot atmosphere of the painter's room. feeling exposed as the cold gust of wind from the air conditioner hits your inner thighs, you close your legs, quietly lifting your head up to marius to see how he's holding up.

“. . . fuck that guy. open your legs again, i can make you cum in whatever way i want.”

[spdrvyn]

Hiya!! Loved your "sense of loathing" fic, can't wait to know what happens next 👀👀😔

Is it possible to be tagged in it when you post it? Lots of love xoxo

oh my god i feel so honored right now 😭😭😭 of course!

if anyone else wants to be tagged when the next part comes out, i would be happy to tag you :3 but i'll probably get to an easier request before writing it, just to note!

[spacecadettt]

thinking about how charlie and grizz both said that their characters would call tide every night, so when he stopped answering, they were devastated.

will stepping out of the winebago, dressed in his skeleton pajamas with his hoodie over the top and slippers on his feet, telling the boys he'd be back inside before bed and sitting on the curb facing the rv. tide didnt pick up last night, but surely he was just busy right? he would never willingly miss a call from them, he's their self proclaimed fish dad.

he takes a big breath and looks at the contact with tide's face; it's a photo of the two of them, bright smiles and crinkled eyes, with their arms around each other. will is so scared that he'll hit that button and it will go straight to voicemail again. he's been distant with vyn and kota all day because he was just thinking about how, and most importantly why, tide didn't pick up the phone. but it was too upsetting to trigger the mystery solving part of his brain.

will closes his eyes tight and presses the call button. it barely rings enough for him to put it to his ear before he hears tide's voicemail message. he doesn't wait for it to finish, just hangs up and closes his phone, a single tear sliding it's way down his face. he wipes it away with his sleeve and stands, taking another deep breath before entering the winebago again. the other two are physically strong for him, but he has to be mentally and emotionally strong for them.

dakota begging to stop somewhere while they're on the road the next day, just after they had set off for the morning. he claims he needs to grab something from a convenience store that is very important, but he's lying through his teeth; he's going to call tide again. will and vyn don't question it tho, as will pulls up to a gas station and tops up the gas tank while they're stopped.

once inside, he bolts for the bathroom with his phone already in hand. maybe he was just asleep last time he tried to call. tide always picked up before the second ring, so he must have just had a long day and went to sleep early. or maybe it was super hero stuff! he would ask about it when he called today.

shutting the lid to the toilet, he sits down and looks at his phone. the contact photo is one that dakota took of tide in his pink "world's greatest mom" apron while he was making beef stroganoff one night. a sad smile crosses his face as he remembers staying in the hall of elements with tide and the boys.

fuck it. he presses the call button and holds it to his ear. "i'm sorry, but the number you are trying to contact has disconnected or is no longer in serv-" dakota hangs up as angry tears burst from his eyes. one more time, surely this is a mistake! with clouded vision, he taps the button again, but the same message plays. he throws his phone at the ground and it shatters, the screen is nearly failing off at this point anyway. he crosses his arms, pulling his knees up to his chest and cries it out before returning to the winebago with red rimmed eyes.

vyncent is confused, but will gives him a knowing look and gestures him inside, telling vyn to just give dakota some space for the day.

[yutasbimil]

Outlier

vyn x fem!oc | tears of themis ff. (psychology major!lead) ✦ (5/8) [series fic] !!! also posted on my ao3 acc! { here } tags: hurt/comfort, smut cw: nsfw minors dni, p0rn w/ plot, first time, kissing, drunk/intoxicated, angst to soft comfort *cue ugly sobbing*, oral (female receiving), teasing, fingering, overstimulation, dom/sub; top/bottom dynamic, dirty talking (kinda silly tho), kinky; hair pulling/slapping, dumbification, multiple orgasms, passionate af; dammit vyn, rough sex, unprotected sex, aftercare, FLUFF ! ! ! D; + supposedly this is a 'x reader' fic but got too heavy eventually, I apologize truly ;; word count: 4.8k

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8

do not repost © yutasbimil (2023)

cont.

Vyn carries her back into the hotel room. The tension was as heavy as the wooden door shutting close behind them.

She had her face red, tears leaking due to the hotness she was feeling. It managed to be cooled off a bit by the white soft sheets of the hotel bed. Yule reeks of alcohol, much reddened by embarrassment. Never in her life had she got this drunk.

Though she’s  a bit  tipsy– a little more than calculated– as good as she is at math, her attempts once again misfired; miscalculated.

Yule goes on what we may call  pouncing  at him once they get into their room, getting hold of him being clingy as she is, opposite to the restrained Yule that feels allergic to even leaving a touch on his finger. 

Of course, Vyn respects her by remaining at arm's length by holding her shoulders to balance her weight. Even if it was intentional or if she wanted to get intimate with him, he digressed. She's drunk, that's of the utmost importance to keep in mind.

The tiredness seeping into them really weighed them like the feeling you have after a party. And here lies the unresolved tension within the hotel room.

She feels her head-turning, much like a black hole sucking in every fiber of her system.

"Fuck, never doing this again." It's more on a declaration although more assured of never getting wasted up to this point. At most, she wouldn't want to be near anything alcoholic for a long long while. "I'm so sorry, Vyn." 

"You keep apologizing…" His voice is soft, indistinguishable for Yule especially with his utmost concern seeing her like this.

She has her arm atop her forehead but it's anything but helpful as it's still heavy as fuck. Compared to the weight Vyn has on his chest as she has him close, he's really the type of person with the body temp to be on the colder side. 

The cold silence between them pales in comparison to the actuality of their heated thoughts.

"It's not just… me being… so drunk." Yule felt her hot desire to quench her thirst. Her throat felt so desert dry. "I'm…"

Yule rethinks every decision she made, even the very reason why she even pursued Vyn in the first place. She's too much of a burden to be with the likes of him. She's a wreck.

Vyn felt the heaviness of her core with her deep sigh, and the tinge of regret in the quiver of her gaze, which honestly, pulled a heartstring at the moment she looked at him with such pity in her eyes.

How unfortunate of you to be with me.

"Why does it look like you're going to push me away anytime soon?" Vyn states,  but aren’t they already here? Is there even a chance to walk away now? 

Vyn further inspects her blank stares of hesitance. There's a heaviness at the pit of his stomach.

But I also don’t want to leave her alone.

"Am I not doing it already?" She says in a monotone. The grip of her hands by his arm says otherwise as if begging for her dear life to not let go.

Honesty does spill more through actions…

Vyn chortles at that, nodding slightly and looking away. He just lets her hold on to his hand despite the denial she’s been putting up all this time. The man doesn’t let her fully lie down though.

“Okay, you'll be pushing me away then… At least when I let go, sober up first so it wouldn’t hurt as much in the morning, hmmm?” Vyn supports the back of her head, lifting her body so she can sit right up.

She’s just quiet, praying that he still firmly believes this painted demeanor of her drunken state is certainly caused by the alcohol.  Yeah, it's definitely still the alcohol.

Though, her impetus for her blushing is for a different reason.

Yule felt everything moving slower around them. Listening to his words, dragged her more mesmerized, taken by the flow of the softness of his low voice. It is amplified within the closed space they’re encapsulated in.

Yule is unconsciously driven to his lead, listening to what he’s telling her to do.

"Drink water, it is to lessen the headache upcoming." His intent as he takes hold of her carefully, shows his real desire through his movements.

Absent-mindedly, she blurts out her question as she keeps following her eyes at him.

“Why do you like me?”

Vyn can't answer properly, she's a plethora of admirable things, but despite that, his interest and feelings towards her are abstract; unexplainable by concrete words alone… 

"You're fascinating… as a person, you're many things if I can put it into words." He didn't let the dryness of the pre-consumed alcohol hold back his thoughts. "I’m still going along with it, Yule and I’d be willing to restate it once again you’ve sobered up." 

His voice is soft, full of assurance, yet even at this moment, she remains blinded and deafened by her insecurities. She quickly vents her rebuttal, as if putting up a concrete wall between them.

“I’m horrible and too much, I'm always overwhelming to be around, and just…  too much . Would you stay despite all that?” She's shaking, vulnerable as her tone shows how she’s all over the place.

I'm anything but that—  she felt hostile towards what she heard. He knows she needs to be calmed down.

“Yule, what are you saying?  Hmmm?”  He attempts to touch her cheek, but Vyn gets cut off by the swift hand warding him off.

"Earlier, I…" The conclusion in her tone came forth along her tears, it burned his cheeks seeing her like this. In her mind, it hurt her how earlier it came off as a rejection, with Vyn avoiding any means of contact with her. “I actually thought you don’t want to continue…  this … as I thought you don’t want me…” 

Yule is gesturing to her and him; them.

Vyn holds back his hand that's supposed to reach out to her. “I was only hesitant to do it with you as you’re intoxicated, in thoughts of taking advantage of you. I held back… I didn't mean to have ill intention towards my restraint, dear.”

He thoroughly explains to her, but she remains quiet as her current belief is swiftly toppled over his rationale. She lowers her head, unable to construct any argument back.

“Of course, I want to be with you, Yule. I’m still here, am I not? I won't go anywhere…” Especially when she's like this, she can't be left alone. He's talking some sense and logic in her as she starts clinging tightly to his polo shirt. It is getting more and more tear-stained, but it also pools warmth in both their chests.

This hug is proof that he still likes her despite everything.

-

Vyn helps her sober up and calm down, having a crying fit also made Yule feel guilty as she may put him through all this crap.

She apologizes again as they always seem to end up in mishaps.

"I'd be willing to work through it with you, but of course, I'm also human. I only have to do much and of course, I also have my limits and shortcomings." Vyn acknowledges her worries. She knows full well how hard relationships can be.   They're willing. 

And she's difficult to handle, she’s well aware that she has inadequacies. But she does like him, like a whole lot. And she wants to actively work on herself and work through this relationship with him.

She feels sorry for being so closed off.

But he feels an ache in him, he’s also not being fully honest with himself. And not being open with her with his own baggage as well.

"I want to make up with you as soon as possible." Yule starts, getting back to his effort by closing off a different type of distance between them. She leaves a few centimeters gap, letting their breaths linger close. "Will it be fine this way?"

Finally closing the gap, they also didn't leave any space between their fingers as they gripped into both their holds. 

It felt electric to the lips, Yule's eyes had to quiver at the sensation. Vyn pulls away for a moment, moving by her forehead. Vyn starts chaste by her eyes, kissing her tears away as she’s growing emotional again. They kissed again as it felt eons that they hadn’t touched, till they got lost in calculation.

She grabs hold of his collar for support, letting go again for a moment of breath.

Every touch of the man was unfaltering as he planted more touches into her skin. Vyn reaches out for her face to meet their lips for the fifth? Seventh?— Yule already lost count at this point, but her greed is only starting to grow.

A confession slipped off her lips, both looking more obviously swollen already.

"I was really anticipating this, and I've been thinking of when would be the next time we'll actually do   it  ." The pressed syllable on the end implied as clear as daylight to the man. 

His look reciprocated how it didn't leave his mind as well, though it appeared teasing.

"What a naughty girl you are."

"I am very much so…" Yule giggles, but it's anything but bashful. "How can I not be when I have such a handsome man alone in a hotel room? Better yet make use of the opportunity."

Her forwardness really pushed Vyn to the edge, just in time as he's got his gauge of patience filled, it’s growing dire.

"Let's use and make haste for the night." He chuckles, placing a kiss on her warm cheek. Fervently placing a moist kiss by her collarbone the next. "Very soon," he appealed as he lowered the straps of her dress further down. 

As turbulent and quick-paced the past weeks with her had been, he was hooked  badly . Down bad as he’s inexplicably attracted to her aura.

He’s intrigued at the very next pages they would go through. Like reading a book, the uncanniness of how he would spread her open now are like pages cascading down to his expected outcome. 

Although, the onset of the scenarios up to this point of deep entrancement, it is full of unpredictability. It is also as abundant as the card pool probability. It draws him more to his curiosity. Turns out the next outcome just led Vyn into pulling their fates closer and closer to each other.

Yule’s gaze is fully engaged on his pretty, veiny fingers by his silk necktie, straight down her line of sight on the way his hand removes it. Some part of her aches for it to remain tied around his neck, alas, she could only grab hold of him with her own weakening hands. His golden eyes were sharp and entrancing at his sultry movements, anticipation pooled all over her system.

She gradually became enervated as Vyn kissed her by the ear, breathing down her neck the next. He starts seductively licking her bare shoulder, she shudders at his voice. “I’m going to make you   not   forget about me after tonight, m’lady.”

 "Ahh-hmmm…   I’m afraid that’s an impossible task with you, love.   "  Yule didn’t have a chance to catch her breath as she was cut short, Vyn was quick to grab hold of her chest with his free hand. While the other pulls down her dress to let her breasts free, she sucks in a breath the same way as the man sucks at her erect nipples. 

They got sensitive to the cold however their bodies are anything but frigid. Vyn strips off her clothes, one by one meeting the carpeted floor.

“Ahhh… that’s so good, please.   Ah-  ” Yule mewls, restraining herself from grabbing hold of his scalp. Their senses are also heightened, due to having to just recover from alcohol earlier. But she's more attentive now as she is enticed by his mellow motions. Vyn didn’t leave any room for disappointment as he attended to both breasts, leaving no gaps for Yule in her moans of pleasure.

It left her core pooled in anticipation all the more as she waited for this for who knows how long. Her impatience is growing more explicit with her ardent whimpers. “Vyn,   fuck–   you’re making this harder for me,   I want you.” 

“Patience, my dear. Good things take their sweet time…” Vyn divulged, pausing to even tease a painfully slow lick by both her nipples, then by the bare skin of her breasts. He gives it a suck as he uses the other hand to twist and hover over her erect knobs. He keeps his golden eyes direct with hers this whole time. “And I want to pleasure you to my utmost care, pleasured to the edge… sloppily wet and ready… before the most anticipated segment.”

“Vyn… how cruel. This hurts more…” Yule gulps a breath, moaning as he now touches the very much heated, moist core in between her legs. Every touch of his felt mouth-watering, as if his presence was a bell ringing, alarming her salivary glands. She knows Vyn means well to treat her right, but  goddamn  she didn’t expect this to feel more of a torture to crave for his dick.

“It’s… Vilhelm. Call me Vilhelm." He paused, feeling Yule tense up as he pulled away momentarily. "It ought to be rude not to address your lover properly, hmmm?”

“Is that why you chose Vyn to be short?” She can’t pinpoint where she got turned on, is it the sudden admission of his name, indicating his intimacy or him indicating that they’re true lovers.

He nods as if a weight got off him with those syllables, they ought to venture more about that later to be sat down. But first things first.

She feels him loosen up as they take the next steps. She takes this as a sign to also loosen the wrapped belt around his waist.

Yule also removes his polo shirt to not be the only one exposed to the other.

She almost gasps at the scene seeing his toned chest, but his eyes are more stripped naked in his state, vulnerable with his glassy eyes staring back at her.

“I want to make you feel good too.”

Yule pulls him close, wrapping her hands around his neck to place kisses by his cheeks, a lingering peck to the ear, up the forehead, and letting her lips run wild all over his skin. Anywhere that is possible and bare to her sight.

“Later, Yule. You first,” he insists as if heeding him down to lay on her back. 

In his dominant stare, she had no choice but to be vulnerable. She’s now got her legs spread wide open, ready like eagle wings to soar– and in this case, to be eaten by him as he takes her up the skies. 

“Does this feel good?” Vyn says in between him licking the exterior of her nerves and then inserting a finger into her wet core. He still wants a clear ‘yes’ despite the restrained mewls she elicits. “No need to hold back, love.”

“Yes,  yes… ah—   ” She’s just keeping control to keep sane from the overstimulation. But he never misses a beat in his rhythm. “   Fuck–   this is making me crazy, ah, ooh… please.” 

Followed again by strings of vowels as he moved more pleasantly crudely with his tongue and fingers. As much as he’s whispering sweet nothings to her, he’s fucking foul with what his mouth and body could do to her.

She bucked her hips, almost curving to the sensation as he also touched the other part of her nether regions. “Wait,   uhhh,   shit, love– what are you doing?”

“Is this not to your taste?” he asks, now just hovering a bit by her butthole. Honestly, she’s taken aback and reinstates her thoughts. “I’m quite indifferent here… uhmmm, I never thought of going there, Vyn.”

“I could take it slow and I’ll go along with the feeling if you’re still alright?” 

She nods, and he maneuvers into it slowly, observing her in her response. It takes her a while to get the feel of it, but it’s getting too much at the same time, She almost yelps as he moves back and forth to a sensitive portion.

She never experienced touching both holes.

Her pleasure and voice is pivoting further out the room, she’s too damn close.

It's far beyond compared to when she masturbates, let alone when she touches herself. She can't believe she'd be feeling this good and tended by a man.

As much as he's enough to give her needs, she’s pushed to the edge of insanity due to the pleasure. But it leaves her more unsatiated and hungry for Vyn.

She felt her throat dry, and her thirst and salivating senses left her exhausted. Yule wants his lips on hers, tongue gauging and fighting with hers. She wants to be nasty with him. But he's too busy swimming into her pool of pleasure, fingers simultaneously macerated already.

Vyn's mouth is moist due to her wetness.

Yet, Yule is left in too much overload with pleasure due to his fingers and tongue on work, She ought to be filled quicker to her limit.

The squelching sounds of his thirst felt scorching in comparison to her hot core, she's bulking her hips at every resistance she's fighting to come over her peak.

“Vilhelm, too much… let me,   please , rest…   hmphh ,   ah-   love.” Yule is too loud at this point, she's glad the walls are thick and private in their own cavern. She caves in feeling something white, awaiting to erupt all over her pit of stomach, down her legs shaking at the sensation. Then another sensation bulldozed into her as Vyn kept going in ramming and twisting curling his finger in her G-spot.

She feels something big coming.

 Is that even possible?!   Even surprised ‘O’ shaped her mouth due to moaning out loud. "Vyn…   hnghhh—   fuck!”

It was too late to let Vyn know as she already climaxed. He lets her senses reverberate in his presence, still letting her ride into her orgasm by lapping his tongue into her whilst pumping his fingers in her.

Yule wasn't able to control herself on how good Vyn was doing. She didn't know she had to  beg  him to stop making her feel so good.

Both of them are left in heaving breaths, although Yule's is more labored compared to his.

“Exhausted already? We're just getting started.” Vyn has a mischievous tone in him, making Yule exert extra energy to roll her eyes at him. This seems a different side of him. She had to smirk. “Sorry, I can’t keep up with you, Doctor.”

The shift in the nickname had him chuckle. “So you’re willing to tend to you then, Miss Saints?”

They had to take a quick laugh at the sudden ‘roleplay’ vibe they accidentally established. 

She spreads her arms for a fleeting hug. “Give me some oxytocin then, Dr. Richter.”

Vyn took this as a chance to hover over her, locking her in between his arms to guide her into another position, His eyes are now filled with more energy, she pales in comparison to her ragged breaths.

She gulps for fear or anticipation, she can’t seem to decide.

Guess she’s putting her hips to work again, her wetness also keeps on flowing at cue. Yule had to blush at her shamelessness.

“Looks like you’re already set, Yule?” Vyn takes a swift swap at her swollen wet core. She shivers and elicits a soft mewl at that.

“Same goes to you, Vilhelm,” she breathes out an amused laugh, pointing to his erect bulge, touching through the fabric. She removes his brief so it’s out of the way.

Vyn lays her back down, and they’re back to their position with him hovering over her, in close proximity. Seeing what was about to unfold soon, she had to gulp.

“W-wait,” Yule blocks her wet core, seeing her suddenly erratic, Vyn holds her hand. 

“Are you scared? We can stop her–”

“I mean  yes , but I don’t want to stop…” Her anxiety shows through her cold sweat, but she breathes out. “I’m just afraid as it’s my first time.”

“I’ll make the best out of your experience, but you can tell me to stop anytime, okay?”

It is valid, and Vyn looks directly at her, full of softness and patience. Yule feels her senses relax again, his body and presence feeling more light and present.

“As scary as it is, this is a risk I’m willing to make. We’re already here, aren’t we?” She doesn’t want to waste anything any further. The same shows how she is at ease with her muscles relaxed.

Vyn nods, placing a quick kiss by the side of her face till he distances himself for a moment. He angles his erection into her, the hotness of his dick was too much just by the surface. The insertion was as impactful as his fixated eyes into hers.

Then the relief as he puts it in is  phenomenal .

“Vyn, please, slowly. But, ahhh… so good already.” She grabs onto his toned arms, he breathes in as he flips his bangs off his face momentarily then smiles over her. “Is this how you imagined it to go?”

“It’s   beyond   what I expected.”

He had to spread a smile on that. “We’re just starting… So let's go over that expectation of yours, alright?”

He starts slow as Yule feels every centimeter of his begins indulging in her. “  Ahhh,   yes, yes. More… please.” 

Vyn easily puts it in but she’s in it for another adjustment, adjusting to his length and width, she’s spread open and vulnerable in many ways.

This is really far different from anything she had experienced in bed, let alone her first time as she’s lacking all possible experience per se.

"Kiss... me, please." moans of plea gush out of her as Vyn leans in to share his warmth and moist lips with hers. It is tender although opposite to the roughness they're about to delve into.

She didn’t even know that she had such erogenous zones that were  that sensitive  by the ear. Yule had to flinch at a mere licking done in her ear, yelping as he bit onto it– she was in it for another overstimulation as he even played with her breasts and nipples. He really keeps himself busy, hands all over her.

She doesn’t want him to pull off.

Vyn maintains the slow and passionate movements, and she could feel every twitch and bulge he does the lovemaking with his hips to his dick in and out of her.

He goes on ahead in holding her by the arms, then shoulders to angle her better. 

“Is this better?” He pounds into her a bit rougher than usual, and she had to bulk her hips at that.

“Rougher, i-is that fine?” 

To be honest, she wanted to be manhandled, but Vyn had something else in mind on their first ever night together.

“I’ll try…” Vyn listens, his lips and touch still full of passion with every kiss.

She doesn’t comprehend how in the world he keeps it gentle yet vehement. Even as he pulls by her arms to ram into her, pounding her further into reverie.

It pushes her more into pleasure as they switch into another position, her down on all fours, all for him to adore. And it gave him more chance to hold both her arms as he pummeled more into her.

To add a cherry on top for her pleasure, she requests him to pull her hair. The sudden demand had him raise a brow, more on in astonishment. “You seem to like that?”

“Very…”

“You’re very kinky, love.” 

“Yes, sorry…”

“I like you in every way, don’t apologize for that,” Vyn assures her, patting her head gently and then shifting to pull her hair by the scalp a bit roughly. Yule felt her walls wrap around his dick tighter at that. It tightens again at every pull of her hair with his manly hands . 

 This is more like it.   Yule had to shamelessly beam at the roughness, in contrast to the roughness, she feels loved at his treatment and him asking consent in every action. This remains in her fantasies for too long, but she didn’t expect to like it in actuality. She’s much more pleased with this outcome.

The sudden slap by her ass took her aback as well, but with the burning sensation left in her skin, it felt more pleasant than it hurts. She had to gulp on that as she felt her walls tighten around him.

It seems more obvious as Vyn lets out a low groan as he does it once again. Yule lets out an aroused squeal as she goes on to look at him, lips bitten to show her amusement. "Vil... Vilhelm,  Vilhelm , that's so good,  uhh- I like that. Yeah,  oohh... " she giggled, licking her lips as she was stuck in a daze of bliss. She was growing more amused as she kept calling out his name, moaning as sounds of sex echoed around the room. It's growing more evident how it has an effect on the man as he leans in to pepper her bare skin with kisses, leaving marks of his touches on her skin.

Vyn leans in to kiss the nape of her neck, grunting once again before speaking by her ear.

“You’re not the type to want to call your lover, ‘daddy’, hmmm?” Vyn adds the hair pulling didn’t help as it immediately puts Yule off her mood momentarily.

Yule rebuts, quickly turning her head at him to glare at him. “Hell no, I don’t want to summon Freud out of his grave.”

Vyn laughs at that. “He’s got enough resurrectors already, let’s not add to that.”

He brings back the mood, her getting immersed in the intensity of his stares as he brings her back in lying down. Everything seems perfect and comfortable all through the night as they share both of their warmth. Body to body, but the intimacy in their stares. All through the night, keeping the rhythm interesting from erratic pounding, to consistent slow. Reaching the peak together seems so undemanding with how they go hand and hand and how well-balanced they are to each other. 

So this is what it feels like to be loved? 

To be handled with such care… It feels so good.

Looking at him across the bed, Vyn seems to notice her need for body heat and he’s quick to pull her close. Even with them reaching almost morning love-making, it doesn’t seem bland to go on. 

Though, they had to rest… And what better way to end the night to be able to be intimate with him?

“You’re lucky… This is unpaid, unsolicited therapy you’re getting out of me.” Vyn jokes, Yule had to pinch him by the arm and then muzzle over her chest.

“This leans more on unethical than it is free,   Will…   you know, doing   this   type of thing with a therapist.” The new nickname for him seems a bit odd, but they’ll get used to it. 

Vyn shushes her, jokingly putting a finger on her lips. “No need to go on the explicit details, it is confidential and I assure you it’s all safe with me.”

“Okay, okay, but do expect me to have ‘another therapy’ with you, Will…” She says riding along the joke. The nickname rolls off her tongue more naturally now. Vyn pulls her deeper into the hug.

“You know I can offer another type of therapy.”

 “Hmmm?” 

“Physical therapy,” Vyn responds.

The gap in the silence and stare made them laugh, Yule had to brush her face against him to hide her blush. Her chest felt elated with his presence.

“You humor me,” she says, not able to contain a giggle.

This is far different from how things will go, and Vyn actually shares the same thoughts. Though he's willing to handle this as unexpected things have turned out.

As shitty as the night had been for a few hours, he made it better.  I might as well open up to him soon about my situation and give him a clear picture. He needs to know as well.

He’s the outlier she’s willing to accept, but unexpected things really can bring the biggest change in your life. And he seems to be a good chance for her to turn out for the better.

Looking up at the ceiling, the night isn’t as uneventful as the plain white canvas on the ceiling. Their conversation is animated by their voices as they spend the night away talking.

No longer putting her heart up her sleeve, his golden eyes are as welcoming as he stares at her. She sees a bright future with him as glowing as his eyes can be. Who knew there was a smile as that radiating directed at her?

※ my masterlist | #enjeiwrites ※

[qiangweirosa]

food

" Vyn forgets his lunchbox. "

relationships: vyn/artem tw: none wc: 965 extra: high school au, based on the forever young event, written for my friend hailey who drew these adorable doodles for it!

read on ao3!

The bell rang, pulling Vyn out of his sleepy trance. 

Seemed he had dozed off during class. He sighed, taking his glasses off to rub at his eyes, hoping to chase away some of the sleepiness. 

He hadn’t slept much the previous night. He had an assignment due for the day, and it ended up taking him much longer than he had expected, forcing him to stay up way too late. 

Which might be the reason why Vyn was fighting to stay awake the entire morning.

Thankfully, it was lunch time; hopefully getting something to eat would recharge his energy, and he wouldn’t be as sleepy. 

He packed his belongings in his bag, pulled it up and left the classroom. Still spaced out, he headed to the library where he usually ate lunch — the warmth of the sun shining through the windows as he walked through the halls only served to further his tiredness. 

As he arrived at the library, he headed straight for the secluded table at the far end of the library, hidden in between shelves. He always sat there; it was calmer there and he was often on his own. 

He set his bag down on the chair next to him. Reaching his hand in it to pull out his lunchbox, Vyn pulled out…

Nothing?

He rummaged through it again. 

Still nothing. 

Vyn frowned. He pulled his bag in front of him to properly look through it — his lunchbox was nowhere in sight. 

Vyn sighed in defeat, wondering how he could have forgotten to grab his lunchbox this morning. Of course, he figured it was probably due to his fatigue. 

Still, whatever the reason, the only thing that mattered right now was the fact that Vyn was lunchless, and didn’t know what he was going to do. He didn’t usually bring lunch money with him, and besides, from what he had seen before, it was too late anyway for him to be able to grab something and eat before class started again. 

So he was doomed to go on the rest of his day without lunch. Very well. It wasn’t an ideal situation, a rather unhealthy one, actually, but he didn’t have a choice either way. 

Or at least he didn’t until he heard a voice call out to him, and the chair across from him was pulled back by someone. 

He raised his head and met the eyes of one of his classmates — Artem. 

“Is this seat taken?”

Vyn blinked at him. There go his hopes of being alone. With a sigh, he shook his head. 

“No, it isn’t.”

Artem hummed in thanks and sat down across him, pulling out his own lunch and beginning to eat in silence. Vyn tried to ignore his presence as he waited, until he felt a pair of eyes staring at him. He looked back up, irritated, only to meet the confusion and concern in Artem’s eyes. 

“Are you not eating lunch?”

Vyn looked away, feeling heat creep up his neck in embarrassment. Accepting that he had forgotten his lunch was one thing; admitting it out loud, and to someone else, was another. 

He cleared his throat, responding in a strained voice. 

“I… don’t have one.”

He braced himself for a snarky comment, mockery, or anything, really, but what Artem ended up doing. 

He heard a hum and looked back, seeing Artem’s own lunchbox pushed towards him, its owner urging him to take some. 

“Here. You shouldn’t go hungry.”

His eyes flitted between the offered lunchbox and Artem in disbelief. Part of him immediately wanted to refuse; but just as he opened his mouth to, his stomach growled with hunger, effectively shutting up any refusal he could’ve come up with. 

With a sigh, Vyn reached for the spare chopsticks Artem had placed next to the lunchbox, eating small bites from it while avoiding his classmate’s gaze. 

An awkward silence settled between them. Vyn raised his eyes to glance at Artem, the sight of his classmate’s flushed cheeks and bashful face causing his heart to beat faster. 

Perhaps staring at Artem distracted him too much, for in the next second he felt their hands brush against each other, the two of them gasping in surprise and pulling their hands back to themselves. 

Vyn muttered an apology and focused his eyes back on the lunchbox, willing himself to avoid any further distractions. 

…But Artem just seemed to be naturally distracting, Vyn thought as he caught himself staring once more between bites. 

Soon enough, the lunchbox was empty, the two of them most likely red-faced and flustered. The silence between them stretched, neither of them knowing how to break it, until Vyn sighed and decided to speak up. 

“You’re good at cooking.”

He stood up, dusting himself off and grabbing his bag. 

“Thank you.”

Artem mirrored his actions, and they found themselves standing next to the table, just staring at each other. Artem looked away, seemingly thinking about saying something, so Vyn waited. 

“If you’d like…”

He waited longer. 

“I wouldn’t mind bringing you lunch more often. You shouldn’t go hungry.”

Vyn shook his head, a bashful laugh leaving him. 

“That’s nice, but I do have lunch usually. I just… happened to forget it today.”

Artem nodded at him, and if Vyn read into it any more, he could almost see disappointment in his classmate’s expression. He spoke up once more. 

“Still… We could eat together again.”

Artem’s face lit up, looking at Vyn with a small smile. 

“That would be nice, yes.”

The two of them walked back to class side by side, Vyn’s tiredness all gone thanks to how fast his heart was beating. 

The next day, Vyn happened to forget his lunchbox again. 

The next day, Artem’s lunchbox happened to be bigger than the previous. 

[actualbird]

HI!!! i wanted to ask ur opinion on how the nxx boys sneeze 😭 it was a hilarious thought because i was trying to sleep when suddenly i heard my dad make the loudest, most disruptive sneeze ever and i thought "thats so funny lol WAIT what if the tot boys sneezed".

i generally think the tot boys would be more "a-chooooo...." rather than a nuclear explosion but i need ur opinion. HOW WOULD THEY SNEEZE!!??

scream omfg i love this ask and i remember i actually talked about this with @samsspambox once forever ago so, without further ado

how the nxx boys sneeze

vyn: sneezes normal but my god he's super sensitive to allergies and, most of all, Pollen. which is hell, given that he loves to garden. but his easy workaround is just to wear a mask, and that usually saves him when hes working on his own garden. but come Pollen Season, and all the plants and trees spewing particles into the air, and hes a nose-clogged sneezy mess. his students know that when it's pollen season to not piss him off because he will be so cranky from all the sneezing and also the horrid feeling of only having one nostril unobstructed

artem: sneezes the Loud Dad Sneeze. he is the disruptive sneezer, the nuclear explosion. he is sneezing like how a lion roars deeply to establish its territory lines, except artem isnt a literal lion and does not do this on purpose. his sneezes are LOUD. the type of loud that makes people want to ask artem if hes okay afterwards cuz it's so loud it seemed like it dislodged a rib or something. it's immensely comical, given artem's usual quiet nature, that his sneezes are a force of nature. he could sneeze in his office and people all the way over in the pantry would hear it. he is, and i cannot stress this enough, so fucking embarrassed about it.

marius: the sneeze that keeps wanting to happen but Doesnt happen. you know, the cliffhanger sneeze, the sneezes that are like "ah...aaAAAHH...AAAAAAAHH—" and then the resulting "choo" doesnt happen. and this Not Happening just Keeps Happening. it's agonizing. marius will start a sneeze at 9:55am but the Conclusion Of The Sneeze only happens by 10:03am, once hes already in a meeting with the board of directors. how unsightly, he KNOWS, but the worst part really is the sheer anticipation. what marius would GIVE to have a normal sneeze.

luke: the tiniest kitten sneeze on the planet, and always 6 times consecutively in a row MINIMUM. back during the NSB Days(TM), the fearsome Agent Raven arrived at the training class he handles with a slight cold, saying he'll just monitor and teach and give pointers while socially distanced. the trainees were so scared cuz "wow, hes still coming in even when hes sick, how TERRIFYINGLY DEDICATED, to be expected from the FEARSOME AGENT RAVEN." and then luke steps back and grabs a piece of tissue, obviously rearing for a sneeze, and the trainees thought "oh i bet his sneeze is the Loud Disruptive one, just like his own scary fighting skills, to be expected from the FEARSOME AGENT RAVE—" and then

it's the smallest, cutest sneeze. one after the other. and another. and another. it was like hearing a squeaky dog toy get squeezed several times vigorously. it was like how you'd assume a pixie sneezes. it was like the sound sprinkles and pink bubbles would make if those could sneeze.

once luke is done with his consecutive sneezes (that, for the life of him, he could not stop) he promptly death-glares at the trainees and they all agree to Never Bring It Up.

but the consecutive kitten sneezes still follow luke through his life and all the way up to, yep, the nxx team being able to witness it

mc: awww, it's been so long since ive seen your cute sneeze!!

luke, nose clogged: it's [sneeze] not cute! [sneeze]

marius: it's so cute, i think my heart is melting

luke: shut [sneeze] up!

marius: AAAWWW, is the big bad agent having some twouble? >:3

luke: dont you f[sneeze]ucking patronize [sneeze] me!

mc: do you need more tissue?

luke: PLE[sneeze]ASE

[ricebowl-san]

NXX team and how they caught Luke and Rosa banging each other (NSFW 🔞) Part 1 - Vyn

At 10pm, Vyn Richter remembered the important documents he left in the HQ. He went back and noticed how there was light evident from the gap underneath the door. A thought popped in his mind, thinking back how Luke and Rosa were hugging each other tight after the brown haired returned from his long mission given by NSB. 

“Did they forget to turn off the lights?” He thought and saw the door wasn’t even shut properly. “This could be very dangerous for the investigation.” 

The two of the team should have known not to do this lest there will be information leakage. He shook his head, pacing forward to close the door when he heard it. 

“Ah Luke, please!” 

Rosa? 

“That—! Oh dear! God! S-so deep! Yes!” 

Vyn blinked. He could not believe what he heard. But it was too obvious that the woman was clearly not speaking from a place of anguish. 

From the gap, he peered in, seeing how she was lying down on the desk, naked except for her knee high socks. Her buttocks were dangling off the furniture, with his hands firmly holding onto her waists as Luke kept pumping his dick into her cunt. 

“You like this, Rosa? Or do you want me to be gentler?” 

She answered by hooking her leg around his waist and rolling her hips to meet his urgent thrusts. 

“Faster. Faster, please—ah!—God, Luke, you’re just so—oh!—amazing!” 

Luke chuckled as his hand groped her jiggling boob, squeezing it and thumbing the hardened nipple. (She does have a very beautiful pair of breasts, Vyn noted). He leaned forward and sucked the areola so soundly, even Vyn could hear it. The detective then hiked her leg and threw it over his shoulder like a sash, penetrating his cock deeper by doing so. 

“Luke!” 

The psychiatrist gulped as he watched the couple going at it, causing the desk groaned and creaked underneath their intense copulation. How long had they been at it? He mentally calculated from the time the team dismissed their meeting of the day—probably around 8pm—and surmised the horny duo were having sex for 2 hours already. 

The documents that were originally piled on the furniture were pushed to the floor and he could not help but heave a sigh of relief that no important evidence was marred by their horny selves. 

‘At least, that’s one thing they managed to keep in mind.’

A part of him was disgusted by how the two treated the workplace as just another place for them to release their pent up sexual tension. Did they not know how loud their moans are or did they simply not care enough for that? 

But—another part of him decided to let it slide. 

He saw how Rosa’s eyes were brimming with tears as she ran towards Luke earlier that day. How tightly she hugged the detective who returned from another life threatening mission with zero contact with the outside world. He saw how Luke kissed her hair as he rubbed her back soothingly, promising her he returned unscathed. 

Vyn Richter decided, albeit against his own personal feelings, to let them copulate as much as they want in the sacred NXX HQ. He watched as they both screamed when orgasm hit them hard, observing the way they both panted haggardly in the aftermath of it and decided to pretend not to see that Luke kneeled down on the floor, pushing his face between her legs and eating his girlfriend up with so much gusto like there was no tomorrow. 

Only this one time though. 

He walked away, ignoring Rosa’s plea of wanting Luke to suck her clit harder and taking a mental note to check on them later at probably 5 in the morning afterwards. 

Though… 

When he came back at the said time, a blanket in hand, he could still hear the slaps of skin against skin and their mingled moans echoing in the room. He sneaked a look through the still unclosed door, knowing that at this point, the two simply cared nothing about the rest of the world and surely not even the psychiatrist himself. 

The couple was now on the floor, with Luke’s windbreaker beneath Rosa in the least attempt to not dirty her back and Vyn groaned at the idea of them spending hours in the HQ fucking everywhere with a surface on it. And here he thought Marius was the horniest of the bunch when clearly Luke and Rosa were claiming the throne. 

Rosa’s legs pressed up against her to the point it nearly touched her shoulders and her body was practically bending in half. Luke was pounding into her mercilessly. His thrusts were deep and hard and anyone who even looked at him at the time knew that Luke Pearce knows how to fuck a woman properly and delightfully. 

“Luke, please! I can’t anymore!” 

“Your pussy keeps clenching me, Rosa. Are you sure you can’t keep going?” 

“Your cock feels too good. I can’t help it! Hng! Luke! It’s growing! You’re growing bigger!” 

“I can’t help it when you say it like that. But you can take it, can’t you? Look, you’re taking me so well. Your cunt is welcoming me.” 

“I’m going to cum!” 

“Cum for me, Watson. Soak my dick with your cum and let me lick your pussy off it afterwards.” 

“Oh Luke!” 

And on and on and on they went. Vyn pursed his lips and backed off. ‘God, does the word ‘tired’ not exist in their dictionary? They better get rid of the stench or I will ban them from future meetings.’ 

He turned around and muttering curses on why the hell he even bothered to wake up this early—against his usual routine—just to find out they still haven’t finished fucking each other. He was pretty sure that these two would have a few other rounds after this and opted to resume his sleep, keeping in mind to plug his ears before that. 

Fuck these two. Really.

[thelonelyarchon]

PICTURE PERFECT(guy)ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ִ ࣪𖤐

ARTEM WING - the one and only stellis's ace and youngest senior attorney. though he's focused on his career and winning cases, due to his immense popularity in both the country and online, he has built a social following. to be honest, he doesn't have a clue on how to act online. he mainly tweets and posts whatever he likes. extremely awkward. helpless (help this mf pls!). always is the butt of the joke when it comes to romance. serious buff office guy. addicted to coffee. tweets like an old grandpa. y'know, the types to just tweet what they're doing atm no matter how random it is. probably will post detailed reviews of movies he's watched (ofc, he acts as if he's not a well know movie creator with his other persona). DRIVES AN SUV AND A RACE CAR! filthy rich. filthy powerful too.

ROSA - probably artem's most trusted person. as his colleague and partner, they've developed a relationship that's akin to both friends, colleagues and lovers. whichever you prefer. even nixx men are confused whether or not artem likes her or not. spoiler: she has a thing for luke. she's responsible for telling celestine everything that's happening in the case. always the person who seems to make artem more popular to the girls. rumored girlfriend of artem. loves anything plushie! lovers dessert too. has a thing for violins. always the one who'll out him. treats the nixx team like they're her kids. acts like their mom too! mediator of the group when shit goes down in the nixx gc.

LUKE PEARCE - everybody knows that he's scared of artem. not really scared, but more of he's seen artem seething with fury and he's vowed not to be the one receiving it. tends to tease artem together with rosa. butt of the joke most of the time. prefers to focus on bright side of things. he's a literal sunshine! he makes sure everyone is healthy and safe. quick and smart too. he's like the dad of the group.

VYN RICHTER - he probably gets into fights with artem frequently, with marius fuelling the fight 95% of the time. he's usually the one that acts too cool for artem, usually using his two degrees to make artem shut up in an argument. loves perfume. he's the resident therapist of the group and usually he's the one they run to for romantic advice. he wondes why when he's single and has never even dated anyone. emotionally reserved. has an air of sophistication around him. 100% can read artem, though. they often think of the same thing and get each other through visual or verbal cues. he is closest with his sister, y/n. regularly keeps tabs on her for her safety.

MARIUS VON HAGEN - causes most inconvenience in the group chat, with his butler vincent cleaning up after his mess most of the time. he loves to annoy people in the gc. definitely loves to play the "younger brother" card. the crackhead of the group. 100% lost in between conversation. usually the one who's first to hear news of this and that. most fashionable member. even if he's by the far the not-so-favorite team member, they appreciate him for being a big help during nixx cases. he enjoys posting online whenever they get together. he's usually the loud one in the gc.

masterlist

[sdaomine]

'til death do us part... or 'til i kill you first

Things take a sharp turn when Marius and Vyn discover each other's secret identities. Filing a divorce is on the table, but Vyn takes matters into his own hands—after all, he'd rather end the marriage here than in court.

A/N: Finally, FINALLY done with this fic that has long been rotting in my drafts! I've been wanting to write a Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU for my favorite gay ship but lacked the time to actually finish it (but here we are!). I wrote this in 2022 but only concluded it today, AMIDST my many, many university backlogs <3 Anyway, I know some stuff here won't make sense but this is a self-indulgent fic so... yeah.

wc: 13.8k words.

==

Six years in.

Six years of a wonderful marriage. Six years of black tea and chocolate drink during early mornings. Six years of intoxicating kisses, sweet and zealous; six years of what the youngest von Hagen called the best fuck he’d ever get in his lifetime.

You see, when you marry the love of your life and spend wild, beautiful years with them, you start to think you are building your relationship’s mighty foundation—that sooner or later, the two of you would be able to finally lower those invisible walls which had always separated you, because admit it or not, there is no marriage built without deep, dark secrets.

But six years in and Marius von Hagen finds himself holding tightly onto his gun—a pretty sleek silencer he so cherished, a gift from his brother—his back pressed hard against the wall just beside the stairs, waiting.

“Hah—shit. Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his chest heavy, almost suffocating. Marius pressed one hand against his heart, feeling its erratic pace and, at this very moment, he was all but trying to calm his rapid breathing.

But then there was a quiet creak on the wooden stairs.

Marius’ eyes screwed shut. Fuck fuck fuck—

Marius threw himself to the side, hiding further beneath the wall, just in time—just in time before a series of raining bullets holed through the wooden wall and the staircase banister, which was soon followed by another round of rapid firing. Marius shook his head as he waited for it to stop.

With one arm protecting his head, Marius leaned slightly against the safer side of the house. Deep down he cursed and cursed the sheer agony of having to prop himself like that against the wall, right after he had dived into the floor like it was some massive pool of water. “Goddamn,” he cursed quietly, and however could he not? His once neatly painted Victorian walls that probably cost some other person’s soul were now ripped into shreds, the wood falling off, their deadly splinters scattered around. There were holes all over, both small and wide, and Marius took a little peek.

There he is.

Vyn Richter, Stellis’ most esteemed psychiatrist: well-mannered, elegant, so fucking pretty. Marius was in awe even when the doctor, who still wore his pearl, white coat, carried two massive rifles in both of his hands. Fucking assault rifles. Just where the fuck did you keep those in our fucking house, Vyn?

A sly smirk curved the doctor’s lips. Vyn caught a glimpse of his husband peeking through the small holes and asked, a little too seductively for Marius’ taste, “Darling, you are still alive?”

Dammit!

Vyn held back a scowl when he heard nothing. Marius used to surprise Vyn whenever he came home from work, so it was not impossible the young CEO had already switched hiding places. And so Vyn, as silently as he could, made his way down the stairs—

“Still am, baby.”

Vyn dived down the stairs instinctively,  hissing out small, foreign curses as he landed—crashed—on the floor. He helped himself up with animalistic speed and grabbed his weapons, dashing towards the room opposite the wall where Marius continued to fire his silencer gun.

The doctor clutched his side and winced. Two minutes in and he already got himself a bruise.

“Stupid brat,” he muttered sharply as he reloaded his rifle. “Whatever crossed my mind? I should have killed him that fucking night.”

==

Two nights ago.

Vyn—in his white Mercedes—took a sharp turn round the bend of his English garden, leading out of the mansion gates. He was running, no, driving away from Marius. Why? Nothing much, really. Just that after six years of marriage Marius found out that aside from being a psychiatrist, his dear husband actually worked as an assassin. Learned that Vyn was a killer from another agency, which unfortunately for Marius was PAX’s worst rival with… well, dirty work.

But that wasn’t the worst part. Marius was an experienced killer, too, a secret even the best psychiatrist in the country must have somehow missed.

So… shit.

It was supposed to be a romantic dinner date. Vyn came home earlier than usual (he had to call off his assassination schedule that night) so he could cook his husband’s favorite dinner. The ever-so-loving Vyn Richter even lit candles on the table, did some last-minute flower arrangements, all so they’d have a good time (He even had half a mind to light candles and scatter rose petals across their bedroom, for a change). It had been a while since the last time he’d eaten a proper meal with Marius, anyway.

But there was something amiss, and Vyn was upset. Upset with the fact that he couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Or what could possibly go wrong.

Although he was quite certain it involved his husband. And involved he was indeed because Marius was all but suspicious that whole evening, asking this and that, inquiries Vyn himself often utilized whenever he questioned a target or a client. And he wouldn’t have been a renowned psychiatrist if his husband’s dubious actions went unnoticed. Marius. I did not know he would be this daft.

Until the bottle of wine Marius was holding suddenly slipped from his grasp, and Vyn—who was seated, his back turned away, his attention wholly fixated on anything other than Marius and his wine—caught the bottle swiftly with one hand.

It was then he realized he’d made a grave mistake, because if anything his husband’s grip was always firm, and not in this life would Marius von Hagen let a million-stellin wine slip from his hands.

Marius let it slip on purpose.

And now Vyn drove his Mercedes the way a lunatic would their car, ramming on the trash bins and fences and even some of the patches of roses from his beloved garden, all to escape from his husband. Because apparently, his dirty secret’s out, and Marius is out to get him (perhaps).

The car screeched as he took a sharp turn, finally out from their mansion. Was he a free man, now? Not exactly—Marius von Hagen suddenly appeared in the middle of the road, running. Vyn muttered under his breath. Goddammit. He took the shortcut. I forgot about the shortcut—

A bang sounded, and the next thing Vyn knew, there was a crack on the windshield. The car halted abruptly.

Vyn scrutinized the crack. A bullet.

“Did…” he mused—hissed, rather—as his eyes trailed to where Marius was knelt on the ground, slowly helping himself up. “Did this bastard just try to shoot me?”

Marius almost flinched when Vyn, just a meter or two from him, slammed his hands on the car horn repeatedly. If it wasn’t his pretty little husband Marius would’ve just shot the car until the tires go off and the driver dead; but then again it was Vyn inside that car, and—

And the windshield… has a crack. And I have a gun. And I…

Marius swallowed. And he must’ve accidentally pulled the trigger when he hopped out of the bushes from the sidewalk and tripped. And now Vyn thinks he tried to shoot him.

“Baby, accident.” Marius now stood in front of the car, and the sight of his husband—who looked angry as hell—could be seen clearly from his line of vision. He hoisted both arms, the way a cornered, guilty criminal would, and repeated his words gently, “Baby, accident. Accident.”

Marius gestured to his gun. “I tripped. Accident,” he shouted. Marius didn’t really give a damn anymore whether or not the neighbors would hear him. “Baby, accident—no, stop!”

Marius inhaled sharply as he heard the engine rev—and it revved loud, as if a warning, more than enough to tell Marius if he didn’t step out of the way at that very moment Vyn would drag him to death by way of a hit and run.

And he did not hesitate.

“No, stop! Wait!” Marius waved his arms frantically, almost throwing away his gun just so he could show Vyn he wouldn’t dare hurt him. However it was his mistake that he pondered it at all, because Vyn Richter was the pettiest man alive, petty enough to actually hit the gas and hurl the vehicle towards Marius.

Oh, shit. Is this my end?

The car steered forward, its speed almost inescapable (for anyone in Marius’ situation). Marius gathered all his weight and lunged at the car, and Vyn then piloted the steering wheel in a rapid pace, left and right, in an attempt to haul his husband—probably ex-husband soon—out of the car, but to no avail. “Get off my fucking car!” he yelled irritably. “Marius von Hagen!”

Marius even managed to smirk as he held onto the side of the car (for dear life). “Stop the car—” he shouted back, his face almost hitting the windshield. “Vilhelm von Hagen!”

“Fuck you.”

“When?”

“Saturday, if I have not killed you yet by then.”

“Sweet.” Marius took advantage of Vyn getting carried away by their banter—Vyn could only hiss out in frustration as Marius broke the passenger seat window with the handle of his gun. It didn’t take long before he was halfway inside the vehicle, and Vyn was fumbling with his seatbelt.

But Marius was a second too late. The moment he’d gotten inside entirely, Vyn had already thrown himself out of the vehicle, and the Mercedes, along with Marius, was heading straight to the dark woods.

“Fuck you,” Vyn spat, still lying on the asphalt, catching his breath. He had wounds and scratches all over his skin—so much for all his skin routines—but that did not matter at the time. He fished out his phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

“Good evening,” he greeted rather blandly. “Yes. Please fetch me, and bring something sweet. I need my sugar levels to spiral.”

==

Present times.

And so they are here, trying to shoot one another’s head. Marius had initially come to gather his hidden weapons, only to find them gone. Vyn must’ve found out. The psychiatrist, on the other hand, returned home and got his guns ready. Heck, Marius even considered the great possibility of his husband setting up traps within the house.

Now we can tell who loves who more.

Yeah. That would be me, Marius would say. I love this sick fuck more than he loves me.

He peeked at the stairs. Marius caught Vyn claiming the opposite wall as his barricade, swore to god heard his muse wince at what could’ve been new bruises. He chewed on his lower lip as he crouched and stalked along the hallway with confident precision—he moved the way shadows would devour the night, utterly soundless as he coursed towards their dining area, which was also a connecting room to their massive kitchen.

To Vyn’s kitchen, his mind noted, almost like an instinct. His beloved had always been the one to cook all their meals, bake mouthwatering desserts and mix their cocktails and most times they’d end up hot that Vyn would find himself bent over the counter with Marius railing him from behind. Sometimes atop that long table, where Marius would feast on his husband the way he would his favorite meal; in return, Vyn knelt on the carpet under the table and sucked Marius’ hard cock until he moaned and screamed his name and squirted his cum on Vyn’s crystalline smooth face.

Marius was never in the kitchen, that sacred place. Sacred to his husband, at least, but when he did go there, it was always to admire Vyn while he prepped their meals.

He let out a bitter chuckle as he entered the dimmed space. Good old days.

Marius scanned the room, one he was most familiar with, before he proceeded to check under the table and chairs, ran his hands along the wall, removed the exquisitely-framed portraits hanging on them as a precaution. He knew Vyn couldn’t have been here for long; he wouldn’t have ample enough time to set up his baits within the house, but just in case.

He’d learned well not to underestimate Vyn. Vyn Richter, of all people.

Keeping his steady stance, Marius trod towards the high archway that led to the kitchen hall. He moved with a spy’s practiced grace and quiet, walking about the area as he quickly drafted a plan in his head. It was safer here, he thought, for almost little to no lights were switched on, and none of them would dare, since the lights could only be opened with two claps or a snap. Even without Marius’ careful movements, Vyn won’t be able to locate him that quickly. Especially since their house was a goddamn mansion.

No, screw that. A goddamn castle. If Vyn had not declined his husband’s initial offer with regard to housing, their residence would have looked like Buckingham Palace, except it was in Stellis.

Well great. How nice would it be to reminisce while your husband’s lurking in the same house, trying to kill you? Marius blew a sigh through his nose, frustrated. Couldn’t this be resolved with yet another delftware imported from France—

Marius went cold. “Fuck.”

He went cold because somehow, he’d forgotten that he didn’t really own this kitchen. That even though he’d been here a lot of times to fuck his husband on that table and over that counter, he wasn’t there enough to fully know and memorize each tile, each wall, each delftware that perched on display. Because somehow, Marius had focused on the possible threats that he’d missed the most unsuspecting yet lethal ones: Vyn’s decorative collection of teacups and teapots and plates.

And perhaps the odds were not in his favor tonight, because Marius accidentally bumped into one, and the teapot—even though he had caught it with his hand at first—proceeded to take its fall and break itself into hundreds of tiny shards. Marius stilled, his blood thrumming in alarm.

At first, there was silence. The eerie kind.

And then rained a series of bullets from the dining room entrance.

“Fuck fuck fuck—”

Marius dived into floor, clutching his silencer. He crawled swiftly under the long table until he reached the archway to the kitchen. He stood on his feet and snatched his other pistol from its belt holster, scanning the kitchen—a fucking enormous kitchen—for efficient shields, weapons, or if the heavens somehow favored him again, a possible way out. An escape from his deranged husband.

He’s too beautiful for someone demented, though.

He heard footsteps. Slow and steady, its familiar, elegant cadence enough a warning for Marius to keep his guard, his guns hoisted and at the ready. In one stride, he took refuge beside the fridge, the opposite side of it facing the entrance.

And then there was a distant, honeyed voice. “You dare break my delftware.”

“You fired because of a fucking teapot?” Marius sneered, but cackled all the same. “You’re crazy.”

“Your fault for marrying me.”

“A horrible decision, really.”

Vyn pulled the trigger and fired, the bullet merely grazing past the fridge. A warning. “I gathered. Seeing how you are out almost every other night, only to a foolish spouse will that go unnoticed,” Vyn uttered, his voice laced with venom—bitterness. “Tell me, darling. How many ladies have you fucked while you were gone?”

Marius resisted the urge to step out of his hiding spot and confront his husband head-on. “Fucking stop it, Vyn. Are you serious? This again?” he complained, the grip around his silencer tightening in his simmering anger. “I never cheated on you, godammit. I told you—I was out for business. How many times do I have to drill that into your head?”

“Ah, yes. Business. And what exactly is your business, Marius?”

Marius chuckled. “I could ask you the same, baby,” he said in his smoothest, sweetest voice, then strode out from his refuge, aiming his silencer at Vyn. In those few, shared seconds of conversation he’d noted where his husband stood, where he was facing, the appliances which surrounded them—Vyn won’t be able to duck anywhere, and could not possibly sprint too fast to shield himself from Marius’ attack.

But then again—he shouldn’t have underestimated.

Because when he’d stepped out, Vyn was not there.

He was already behind him.

“Shit—”

He did the most possible, most horrible thing he could think of: as he swiveled round to Vyn’s direction, Marius hooked his fingers under the fridge’s recessed handle, pulled it open, then slammed its massive steal door against Vyn.

“Scheisse.” The fridge door rammed against him face-first—Vyn’s nose throbbed with a nasty pain, and he sensed hot liquid leaking from it, tasted the coppery tang of blood when it drifted further into his mouth. “Fucking. Swine.”

He knew the fridge door would be a serviceable shield, knew the bullets he’d fire would protect Marius no matter what and doing so would only be a disadvantage. However Vyn blasted back that instinct, that knowledge, and proceeded to rain yet another series of bullets towards Marius (or the fridge, actually), all because of sheer aggravation. How dare he slam that door into his face—was he not his muse, his darling? Was he not this ethereal man Marius had always drawn and sketched and painted on his canvases for he wished to preserve his beauty?

Goddammit—the curse looped inside Vyn’s head, his nose flaring with rage. His nose fucking hurt.

And Vyn screamed along his firing, both weapons aimed toward the fridge. The kitchen was dimmed, with no lights on and so all he could see were the blazing yellows and oranges and reds, could only hear the all-too-familiar bangs and booms as the shots blasted through the metal.

He stopped attacking. Vyn wept the blood from his face with the sleeve of his once immaculate, white coat, wincing as he did. His nose stung so much and it rendered him so very, very furious. “Marius von Hagen,” he said. Hissed.

A low chuckle. “Vilhelm von Hagen. Or would your surname be back to Richter now?”

And there was silence, utter silence, before Vyn’s life flashed before his eyes.

The psychiatrist could only slide back as the fridge—which was a whole lot bigger than him in all aspects possible, completely towering over him—started slanting from above and down to crush him. It was too swift that he could only clumsily stumble back, almost slipping on the tiles and making a fool out of himself.

Marius heard Vyn curse in a vague, foreign language—German, no, Svartian, probably—as he scurried to save himself and dodge his husband’s pretty little trick. Actually, screw that, Marius thought. Pushing this goddamn fridge might very well be his disadvantage: one, it was too heavy it took a lot of effort and energy, and two—the kitchen was a spacious room and he threw his only barricade away.

No matter. He will just have to remedy that, in whatever way he can.

Like taking advantage of his disoriented, recuperating rose by means of taking their electric stove and throwing it in Vyn’s direction.

He’d turned away before that stove hit his husband.

No. He didn’t want to see that.

Didn’t want to see his husband hurt.

He released a sharp breath and looked skyward, then blinked his eyes repeatedly, well-aware of the stinging tears threatening to flow. He ran to the exit all the same, his only goal to escape—he didn’t wish a violent shoot-out with his love, inside their home, no less, but he needed to return the act lest he got killed.

All this—the thought of killing Vyn would kill Marius just the same, anyway.

Heh. He didn’t seem to hesitate shooting me, was what roved in his mind as he made his quick escape. God. That hurt. That fucking hurts.

And he was now well on his way out, finally, with only a step before the archway when Marius peered over his shoulder—then regretted it shortly after.

A kitchen knife had grazed past his ear, the tip of its blade hitting the wall with a dull, slicing thud.

Marius stood there for a while, utterly shocked. Vyn hurled the blade too skillfully that blood trickled down his ear—only a slight brush with the knife, truly, and there was only a minor sting—and Marius recalled it again and again, the way that knife went past him so swiftly, almost like a soft winter’s breeze.

Maybe he deserved it. He’d broken not only Vyn’s delftware but his nose, too.

“Just to remind you, my darling.” Vyn stood steady far across him, his gun hanging by his side, his other arm still held forth after throwing the knife like a sports dart. He was bleeding, his nose and his arm, yet his poise was much like a prince’s, still, as if he hadn’t partaken in this chaos of an indoor shoot-out.

Oh and despite himself, Marius swooned when Vyn had addressed him darling.

“That you destroyed my fridge.” He leveled his gun, his aim at Marius’ direction. “And inside that fridge were all the pastries I had worked so hard for this goddamn week—more particularly that matcha cake.”

Ah, Marius thought, almost nodding unconsciously. I’m thoroughly fucked, then.

The psychiatrist fired another time, only once, but close enough to shoot off Marius’ ear.

Thoroughly, completely, perfectly fucked.

If that bullet blasted a few inches down Marius was sure he’d only have one serviceable ear left. Fuck it. Vyn’s aim was as good as his so thank the heavens the odds somehow favored him tonight because if they didn’t, his head would be pounding with a static burn at this very moment for he got his ear blown off to oblivion.

Marius sprinted. Not out, because the hallway was narrow and with how accurate Vyn’s aim is, he was certain he’d get shot at some point. So instead he darted to the side at lightspeed. “Goddammit, Vyn!” he shouted as Vyn fired constantly, following his every stride; thank goodness there were no kitchen lights and Vyn couldn’t see clearly even with those ugly glasses. “You’re really going to blow off my ear? How am I to hear your needy moans then?”

“You will not hear them again.”

“Not of pleasure,” said Marius as he slid behind the mid counter, hiding away from Vyn. He tugged open the small cabinet and swiftly made a slice on the gas hose before he slithered away like a madman and out to the archway. It would be nasty with that leaking gas and Vyn’s shotgun.

Wow, thank god we weren’t all into electric shit.

When Vyn fired, the kitchen exploded in flames.

Vyn threw himself back, and he crashed into the wooden floor, breaking his glasses in the process. Every part of him ached, and his head pounded; his vision was obscured without his glasses, the narrow hallway a distant horizon he was not sure he’d reach because he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe—

His thighs burned, a hot, searing pain pulsating within his loins, and it was only then that he realized he was on fire. Like it was his second nature the doctor halted thrashing and crawled to the nearest open space, that area near the archway, and rolled himself across, exhausting the flames on his person.

He wouldn’t dare glance at his burns. He couldn’t stomach them for sure.

Not because they were gruesome, no, but because he cared greatly for his vanity, and now his efforts had been all in vain. So much for face and body value.

He snatched his gun, then, and hastened out of the burning kitchen and into the dining area.

Vyn didn’t mind the burn, the throbbing, the pain that wished to devour him. Not when his adrenaline was spiraling and begging to be put to fucking use. His instinct—an assassin’s or a husband’s, he couldn’t discern—led him out and around the lobby, up the stairs, to that one, distinctive chamber his husband treasured most.

The Atelier.

The memories rushed in with each step, every soundless stride. He’d designed that room with Marius, had decorated it day and night with him. Had baked cookies and delivered them there, so Marius would have something to eat as he worked on his new opuses; had stayed by his side as he recounted stories with his paint.

Had taken off his silken robe as he perched on the chaise, naked, looking so ethereal as Marius painted him, brought his beauty to canvas.

The reward? Marius had fucked him silly all through the night, on that very same couch.

Vyn took deep breaths. He acknowledged those memories, accepted them. Then locked them all away.

He hoisted his gun, and tiptoed close, closer. No signs told him Marius was inside, but Vyn steered forward, trusting his gut as it churned at his intuition—he is here. I do not know why, but I know he is here.

He ticked that box with a check.

As he entered the room a silencer shot, hitting just behind him. Marius stood by the opened windows, his weapon in hand; a thick cable wrapped around the atelier’s metal handle and it fell outside, down to Vyn’s precious garden. He was escaping.

“Heh.” Vyn aimed his gun at Marius, the smirk on his face menacing. “Planning for escape?”

Marius threw him an annoyed glance. “You put the house on a fucking lockdown.”

Vyn shrugged his shoulders. “You were able to open that window,” he said. “Whatever happened to the alarms?”

“Switched them off first.”

“And the window?” No one was supposed to open any part of the house when it is on lockdown.

“I know shit on this house that you don’t know of.”

“Ah. Well, that does not matter.” Vyn trod forward, careful. The weapons were still aimed at one another as he neared a small, circular table where Marius’ rarest pigments sat in glass bell jars. “What matters is… oh, look. These are your pigments.”

“Vyn.”

“Such rare pigments,” mused Vyn, eyeing the expensive, imported, rare set of paints atop the table.

Marius took a cautionary step forward. His hand reached towards his husband, the gesture as if attempting to halt whatever deranged thing Vyn framed out to do. “Vyn—”

“Imported from Italy, yes?” The older man trailed, his finger brushing against the glass. “Ah. And this one was from our Grand Tour—France, if I remember correctly. From Louvre.”

“Don’t shoot it.” Marius’ voice shook. “Don’t fucking shoot it.”

Vyn stopped. He chuckled—then looked up at Marius. “All right,” he said with an innocent smile, “I won’t.”

Then struck the table’s legs so it tumbled down, onto the floor, the special paints now mere, vibrant stains that tarnished the wooden tiles.

Vyn sneered at Marius. “Screw you.”

And proceeded to fire not to his husband, but everything inside the atelier: the canvases, both empty and brimming with colors, the vases and the chairs and stools, the portraits on the wall, the unfinished sketches and all the works in progress—the Seti Falls among other brilliant landscapes of their travels in Skadi, in and around Stellis, all the way to Europe.

Marius seethed, and one may even argue he was about to breathe out flames. “You fucking fiend—”

Vyn halted his advances when his aim pointed to an unfinished portrait of him.

Gods, he looked beautiful in it. Like the image of a prince, one of which a hopeful maiden would see only in the fairytales she reads, wondering if she’d ever snag a man as handsome as him. His lips were curved into a half-smile, all so lucious, and Vyn felt that familiar, rancid guilt tug at him—only a little, he wanted to deny it—as he wondered the many hours Marius had worked to capture him as beautifully as he could. Not that it was a hard task, for Vyn had always been a most spectacular muse, but still…

He lowered his gun and spared that portrait from his rage—saved himself from his own, unfettered violence.

But soon enough, Dr. Richter would realize that only portrait Vyn had been granted salvation.

Vyn nonchalantly aimed at his husband another time, did not hesitate, even a sliver, as he pulled the trigger toward Marius. But Marius dodged and rolled to his back, deftly until he tumbled against the wall under the window, and with a terrifyingly calm expression poised himself to kneel on the tiles.

Vyn reloaded his gun. “What are you doing, kneeling there?” he seethed. “Have you given up, darling?”

“No,” said Marius, a chuckle rumbling down his body. His amethyst eyes had darkened, and Vyn tensed, feeling gooseflesh all over his skin as Marius took something out of his person—a hand grenade.

“You know what,” the young von Hagen began, his voice low and cold, “I shouldn’t have tended your garden during the days you weren’t here.”

“You are to stop this instant.”

“What do you say? Fuck off and say adiós to your precious little garden.” It only took a split of a second as Marius pulled the pin with his mouth, and tossed it behind him, the grenade hurtling over his husband’s precious sanctuary of roses and lilies.

Only a split second before Vyn Richter’s garden exploded into a thousand, splendid fireworks.

And if it weren’t for his unmitigated, passionate fury thrumming with each breath, each step, and every thunder of his heart transcending over the harrowing, golden flames burning in the dead of night, of which singed the beloved flowers he’d tended to for years, Vyn would’ve fallen to his knees onto the wooden tiles, and cried his heart out in heavy grief.

But Vyn stood there, not moving an inch, as he watched the scorching fire. The flares flickered in his eyes, round and round the deepest trenches of those golden hues, until all he could see and feel was…

Well, nothing. As if unbothered.

However his mind, his brilliant mind toiled clearly—too vivid, the thoughts smooth-sailing in his ocean of schemes.

“Dieser verdammte Marius,” he muttered—that goddamn Marius—as he strode near the doorway, opened an emergency cabinet, and pulled the heavy, metal handle, activating the manor’s fire sprinklers.

Wet chemicals erupted from the ceilings, all over the house. Vyn navigated the halls and the rooms with precision, checking the bedroom, the lounge, the bar, in a search for a certain von Hagen.

He hoisted his gun as he trod to each chamber, each corridor. Vyn went down the stairs and proceeded, with much caution, to the main living room—

When a click sounded behind him.

“Let’s stop this now, Vyn,” Marius said quietly as he drew closer, his silencer only a meter or two away from his husband’s back.

“Unlock the house, and we can separate in peace—”

Vyn swung around, pivoting on his heel, and knocked Marius’ weapon out of his grasp.

Marius stumbled to the side, but maintained his balance almost as instantly. “What the—”

“You are naive to think that after all this, I would let you out.” Now it was his time to brandish his gun, leveling the weapon slowly to Marius, who now had both hands raised in surrender. He was on the farthest corner of the room, trapped; his only escape was the very path Vyn stood on, getting in his way out, deliberately so. “Well, well. What do we have here?”

“Your loving husband.”

Vyn’s brow raised, and his features scrunched into disdain. “I would not say that—”

He was cut off by Marius pouncing onto him with all his weight, Marius’ hands wrapped around his own, restricting him and the gun. And before Vyn could even try to get away Marius sent him to the ground—Marius had forcefully slid his leg against Vyn’s, and when his husband lost his balance, the two of them plunged into the floor.

At the impact, Vyn’s grip loosened, and Marius kicked the gun away from them as he helped himself up.

Oh, zounds. Why did I kick it away? I should’ve taken it—

A flower vase came hurtling toward him, and Marius shielded his face from the glass, letting it break into tiny shards as it fell to the floor. And his jaw might’ve been broken, too, for Vyn had suddenly appeared in front of him, and threw Marius the best jaw-breaking punch he had ever received.

“Fuck—”

It was painful, to be sure, but he had no time for such. He caught Vyn rushing to the doorway.

What’s he doing?

Marius’ face scrunched and he winced, the pain in his jaw utterly excruciating.

Oh.

Oh.

Fuck.

He’s going for the gun.

“No way in hell.”

Marius the nearest object he could find—a mini coffee table—and hurled it in Vyn’s direction.

He stood on his feet and sprinted to the doorway. The table had hit Vyn’s torso, the impact heavy on his waist, and he dropped to the floor, groaning in pain.

But before Marius could reach for the gun himself, Vyn held him by the leg.

He landed face-forward. His arms, thank goodness, saved him from rendering his handsome face wretched. Marius rolled onto his back, only for Vyn to lunge at him.

Vyn first threw a punch to his jaw yet again, but Marius caught his wrists. With a mighty force Marius was able to toss Vyn to the side—he was the stronger one, after all—and Vyn ended up with his back against the couch.

Vyn was still recuperating when Marius came to wrap his hands around Vyn’s neck, restricting his breathing. His hands went instinctively around Marius’, punching and pulling and desperate to get away. At last Vyn gathered enough strength to move away from the chaise and to the side, bringing Marius with him; Marius who, despite his strength, admitted to struggling with Vyn’s futile attempts to escape.

But the next thing Marius knew, he was throwing his husband across the room.

Vyn flew directly to the massive grandfather’s clock, the glass shattering and raining over him.

Blood now stained the doctor’s face, his body. But at that very minute he wouldn’t feel any wound, any injury. Just the unfaltering will to fight to death with his husband.

He felt betrayed.

He was scared. He was so scared he would lose him—to a woman, to PAX, to this. Add the five consecutive nights he’d prepared dinner for them and Marius never came home.

He’d rather end the marriage here than in court.

Marius dashed towards him, ready to pounce. Vyn caught sight of the expensive wine bottles on the table beside him.

And so he snatched two of the wine bottles and smashed them on either side of Marius’ head. The bottles crashed, and Marius bellowed in pain. Crimson leaked in his skin, his clothes—was it the wine? His blood? Vyn swallowed as took in the sight of his husband, hands on his head, moaning in deep pain; he looked away immediately and strode out from Marius’ reach.

Marius chuckled. “Of course you’ll go for the gun.”

“Do you not think it the easiest way out?” Vyn merely said, his voice higher, obviously vexed. Yet the way he spat those words was honeyed, still. “I shoot you, I win.”

“Is that what this is all about?”

“Yes.”

“Ah.” Marius staggered, but pressed onward. “Then you’re not getting that gun.”

In quick strides Marius threw himself at Vyn, but the older man rolled himself easily over the couch. Marius pushed the chaise to the side with one swift move, and only the oval glass-lined coffee table separated them.

Like that table’s gonna do shit.

And it all began with footwork. In his fighting stance, Marius assessed his husband, the two of them circling around the table slowly, vigilantly. Waiting for the other to hint at their weakness, to give away their hidden cards—neither knew the other’s tricks, having only found out their secret careers this evening.

But goddammit, Marius cursed inwardly as he observed his muse with that perfect sparring form, however his bearing elegant, still. The lock of his shoulders, the way his forearms were bent to his elbows, his knees curved just right; that determined face, his brimming confidence—goddammit, goddammit, goddammit.

Perfect.

He’s perfect.

I love him.

“Well fuck me. You always made me carry your heavy stuff, but now you look like you’re ready to carry me to my grave.”

Vyn smirked—then pushed the table with his foot.

The force was too strong that Marius knew he wouldn’t be able to stop it on his own, and that he’d only hurt whatever part of him that met the table’s edge. The table slid forward, launching straight at Marius, and all he could do was leap on top of the table.

It was small, that table. Marius lost his balance and fell face-forward to the marble tiles.

“Fuck it,” he groaned, his elbows stinging. “I fucking hate you—”

Vyn gripped his shoulder and swung him around, his back now on the floor. “Hello, my love,” he purred as he pinned both Marius’ hands atop his head, then straddled him. “Do you like this?”

Marius smirked. “You on top? Hell yeah.”

Vyn’s fist went flying to his face.

“FUCK—” Marius groaned, his nose stinging. He could almost taste the metallic tang of blood. “I can’t believe you ordered me to carry your shit around when you can punch this hard.”

“You betrayed me.” Vyn landed another punch. “You are a liar! You lied to me!”

“Look who’s fucking talking!”

“Go to hell.”

With his weakening grip on Marius, the young von Hagen was able to snatch his arms and finally turn the goddamn tables. He wrapped his legs around Vyn’s torso and flung themselves to the side.

Vyn gasped. Marius now sat on top of him, towering over him. His grip on Vyn’s wrists was too tight they could’ve been red with the mark of his fingers, or a nasty purple because of bruising—god, they could’ve been a pale blue for that grip might as well halt the blood from coursing through.

“Now, now, sweetheart.” Marius pinned his lover’s wrists on the floor. He noted the slightly frantic tussling, Vyn’s… sexy labored breathing. “I think I like this better,” he whispered. “Me on top of you.”

And Vyn could only gasp as Marius grappled his throat. Not to kill him—to weaken him, somehow. To make him lose consciousness. And then he’ll decide from there.

“Hck—” Vyn’s choking filled his ears and, even when he wanted to, he couldn’t look away. “M-Marius—”

Stop it. You’re hurting him.

His grip did not weaken.

“Hck… P-Please—”

Don’t say it. Don’t.

Say it. Vyn hurt you. You’re just returning the favor.

I can’t...

“Look at you. I love choking you like this,” Marius spat, his eyes dark and wicked. I’m going to hell for this—I’m sure of it. “If only this were a different circumstance.”

He caught Vyn’s arm flailing to his sides, and Marius wondered why he’d suddenly stopped grasping the hands that throttled him—until Vyn seized something and smashed it to his head, sending him backward.

A lampshade this time. From yet another small desk drawer just beside them.

Well, Marius thought. I should’ve seen that coming.

Vyn was, however, still frail from Marius’ attempt to strangle him. His breathing was strained, his face breaking out in cold sweat.

And hot tears rolled down his pale, bloodied cheeks.

However his adrenaline pumped again, and again, and even when his head pounded a fire burned from within, and he tried to go on all fours, a futile attempt to stand.

Marius now stood, albeit unsteadily due to the impact of the lampshade on his temple. “Come on, honey,” he managed to say despite himself, imitating a sparring stance, “come to daddy.”

Vyn inhaled a sharp breath.

He turned on his back, then, and used all his remaining strength to kick his husband’s groin.

“Fucking fiend—” Marius moaned in agony as he fell to his knees.

“Heh,” Vyn chuckled darkly. “Who’s your daddy now?”

“Ahahaha,” Marius managed a laugh. For some reason, it did not sound even the least sarcastic. In fact, it sounded so… genuine. “That’d still be me, Vyn,” he breathed, “still me.”

Then he rolled to the side, Vyn the other way around.

When they got up to their feet, nimble as men who were yet to be injured and beaten up, Vyn and Marius found themselves in a rather precarious situation:

Their guns on each other’s heads.

Blood coated their faces. Some trickled down, some already dried from earlier’s violence, the crimson-brown marking their skin as if pinpointing just where they had tried to inflict pain on one another. Desperate breaths filled the thrashed room, heaving in attempts to ease the thumping hearts, seemingly beating for something other than the desire to kill—perhaps beating for love, still.

The room had now quieted. No more crashing and shattering and heavy thuds brought about by relentless kicking and punching and hurling. The once catastrophic space was now but a peaceful one, at least in terms of sound and every other external force of nature.

“Let us end this here.”

Vyn’s tone never wavered. It was still as honeyed, elegant. But neither had the strength to actually ask, is that what you really want?

“Baby.”

“Stop,” he said, or rather breathed, as if Vyn had drained all capacity to speak, and Marius almost didn’t hear it, but he did. He always did. “Don’t you dare call me that.”

“Okay.” Marius nodded. His gaze remained fixated on Vyn, who so determinedly held out his gun, although Marius wondered why his finger was a little far off from the trigger. He took that as a good sign—something to hold onto. “So,” he began, his silencer still aimed towards his husband, “what now?”

I do not know, he had the urge to say. But he wouldn’t say it. Not in this life.

“Are we to stay like this the entire night, Vyn?”

“No, of course not.”

“Should I worry now?”

“As you should.”

“You’re going to kill me?”

Vyn’s eyes snapped to him, meeting those eyes of dark amethyst, and Vyn realized he hadn’t been looking at Marius this whole time, only to a random part of his face so it would seem like he was strong enough to take this head-on. But when their eyes met he felt his breath catch, and gods did Vyn want to whip everything back in time just so this didn’t happen. Just so he would have him back.

It is still him, he told himself. This youthful man, so willingly returning his gaze even though Vyn bore some brutal promise, always the man who could see him, who chooses to see through him and accepts what sought refuge beneath the facade—still Marius.

My Marius.

Vyn gasped, more loudly than he’d intended, when the silencer dropped to the floor.

His line of sight panned up to Marius. “What are you doing?” he hissed with unmistakable, rising fury. “Pick it up.”

Marius raised his arms, slowly, in surrender. “I don’t want to.”

“Pick up the gun.”

“I can’t.”

He inhaled sharply that the air could cut his throat, which was painfully drying, his heartbeat starting to race another time as he attempted to persuade him, “Pick it up, Marius! Pick the fucking gun—”

“No,” Marius said, shaking his head in regret.

“FIGHT. FAIR. THIS IS NOT FAIR.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

“Believe me.”

He was pleading, and Vyn knew that. Not pleading for his life, but pleading his love.

Until Vyn asked, “Why did you do it?”

His eyes lit up. It didn’t matter whether Vyn would accept his answer, he didn’t even care if he would believe him, but he was so damn happy Vyn was at least interested to know. And he deserved the truth—he ought to grant his husband that.

“I’m…” He breathed in, his line of sight entirely on the floor, trying to find the perfect explanation. “I don’t know. I guess I just love—”

“Killing other people?”

He looked up at Vyn. “Bloodlust—that’s it, yeah?”

Vyn scoffed. “Bloodlust. Are you kidding me?”

“I had killed someone for Giann. Accidentally,” he began, “an act of self-defense, to save myself and him. He was drugged and unconscious and we were alone, and we were kids.

“And I felt like a different person, you know? Stabbing that man to death. Torturing him until he begged that I end his suffering. Instead I got a blunt knife…” He trailed, his voice now dripping with that familiar longing, that familiar tone of satisfaction Vyn so knew about him, “started carving the family insignia deep into his skin while I listened to his pleas, his screaming, and watched the way his blood leaked from his cuts…

“It was, to say the least, a feast to my senses.” Marius chuckled, his voice dark, almost evil. As if Vyn’s kind, youthful husband had gone, had turned into someone unspeakable, someone he didn’t know. Or perhaps, a Marius he has yet to meet. “That was when I realized I let another me live within. He’s someone who loved drawing blood, someone who craved for violence. All of this, Vyn—I do it all for fun. I couldn’t get it out of my system. So, yeah.”

“You could have told me,” whispered Vyn. Marius wanted to believe he saw those golden irises soften, even only for a passing beat. “You could have trusted me.”

“I trust you, baby. But no,” he said resolutely, “I love you, so damn much, and I wanted to be perfect for you.”

Marius took a step forward. Vyn’s grasp tightened around the gun.

But Marius pressed forth. Arms falling heavy on either side he took yet another step, his mouth curving on a slight, sad smile as he walked closer, and closer, dangerously closer to the beautiful man who carried such a hideous promise.

“I want to be the perfect man…” Marius halted, just a few breaths away from the gun aimed directly at him. He crouched a little, leaned forward—

Vyn gasped. His whole body tremored, a sudden chill running all over his skin.

Marius wrapped his long fingers around the gun’s barrel, tugging it towards himself, pressing his chest against the hot muzzle. “The perfect husband for you.”

He observed as Vyn continued to nibble on his lower lip, biting it hard that it reddened with the threat of blood, and Marius’ chest tightened as he saw those golden hues now glossy with emerging tears. Vyn’s breathing had gone from composed to ragged, and soon the hand which held the gun started to shake.

“Vyn,” his husband called softly, “I love you, okay?”

He was surprised to feel hot tears filling his eyes, a stray of it rolling past his bloodied cheek. “Marius…”

“Vyn?”

“I…” he paused, grasping for words, suddenly losing all the vigor to fight. His heart shattered at this, at everything—at himself for being such a petty husband who never truly gave Marius the chance to prove himself, all because of some missed dinners. Who never gave Marius the benefit of the doubt even when Vyn saw in his eyes a flicker of hope.

He was so lost swimming in his ocean of thoughts that he never noticed Marius, who started easing away the gun ever so calmly, and Vyn—exhausted and drained out of his wits—allowed him his weapon to make its descent, down until he himself decided to drop it to the floor.

And he seemed to be in a daze indeed as Marius pressing closer to him went unnoticed, until Vyn realized, only after almost a minute, that Marius had gotten their bodies closer, almost skin to skin…

Marius knew he was quite awake now—from all his little reveries—and while he expected Vyn to land another blow or finish him once and for all, he was surprised when his husband’s gaze flitted from his lips before it settled up to his eyes, his pale, slender hands sliding to his chest as he whispered, “I love you too, Marius.”

Then Vyn was pushed onto the couch.

The doctor gasped, too surprised that it was a pitch higher than usual, and for a moment he was afraid that Marius had gotten the upper hand with his trick and now he ought to strangle him, but his gut believed otherwise, and his gut turned out to be right because Marius leaned down to kiss him—rough and wet, hungry as his tongue lapped in his mouth, a quiet sentiment of how Marius would rather kiss and touch and fuck him instead of sending blazing bullets all over their house.

“Mm—oh, Marius…” he whined as Marius pressed against him, almost straddling him, his hands relishing the softness of Vyn’s face and disregarding the feel of dried blood there, and now making their way towards the back of Vyn’s head, fingers brushing, tangling, pulling on those silver locks.

He felt his pants tighten at the sound of Vyn’s moans, and he grabbed a fistful of his hair and dragged his head back, suddenly feeling the lust of tasting Vyn’s exposed neck. Marius leaned down, his mouth pressed against his neck, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses along soft skin, tasting blood and hot sweat. He bit lightly at the hollow of his shoulder—

“Ah!” Vyn cried in perhaps both pleasure and pain, his fingers clutching desperately on Marius’ sleeves—sleeves that were rolled all the way up near his elbows and it was so sexy Vyn almost wanted to wave the white flag, in the middle of their shoot-out, just so he could fuck him. So he could kiss him, kneel in front of him, fulfilling his husbandly duty of sucking his cock. “Marius…”

“We literally just started,” Marius said as he looked up to meet Vyn’s eyes, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips.

“Fuck you.”

“Darling, I’m about to.”

“Well why don’t you get on with it? Or would you rather waste my—oh, fuck—Marius!”

Vyn could only screw his eyes shut, and Marius could only let out a satisfied groan as he ground his hips against Vyn’s, biting his lip as he felt that hard erection, the proof of his husband’s growing need and oh, how he’d love to satisfy him. “What was that?”

“Will you ever stop talking—”

Marius shut him up with another kiss on the mouth. Vyn tasted sweet, as usual, however Marius made out the metallic flavor of blood, but it’s not like he would mind. It’s his husband’s blood, anyway, and he’d be most willing to take a sip of it, drink it, chug it until it sank down his throat the way he would his chocolate drink.

Ah, but Marius loved it more when it was Vyn who did that with his cum.

As he kissed Vyn he continued moving, grinding his hips until all he could hear were the melodies of Vyn’s whines and sighs, and gods was he so distracted Marius failed to notice Vyn already taking the matter into his own hands unbuttoning Marius’ shirt, and with fervent speed at that.

He suppressed a laugh as he bowed his head, watching in awe as Vyn fumbled with the buttons of his black shirt, breathing so hard and sensually as if he could wait no longer. In fact it felt like Vyn would be very much happy to just tear his shirt apart—not that his husband would mind, either.

“You were so determined to kill me earlier,” Marius said as Vyn unbuttoned the very last one, “but now you’re so hot and horny for me. I told you I did like your mood swings—hmph!”

He was cut off by Vyn’s mouth claiming his own—much to his delight—and soon he found himself hooking his arms under Vyn’s spine and the back of his legs, his feet then making way to their bedroom on the second floor. Vyn wrapped his arms around Marius’ neck instinctively, even pulling him closer as if he needed more, plenty more of him, and Marius loved the way his husband craved for his kisses that it must have given him some omniscient power to navigate the halls and the stairs in the dark so precisely.

In a minute a heavy thud reverberated, echoing across the massive bedroom as Marius opened the door—or rather twisted the knob then kicked the door—and went towards the bed with much haste. He’d licked, bitten, lapped at Vyn’s mouth one last time before he dropped him to the king-sized bed, covered in midnight-lacquered sheets, and proceeded to take off his shirt—

“Wait,” Vyn protested, but before his husband could respond he hooked his two fingers round the belt loop of Marius’ pants, and tugged him closer. It was so damn hot Marius’ cock twitched.

Suddenly he wanted to grab a fistful of Vyn’s hair and make him suck his dick. He’d fuck Vyn’s mouth so well with his hard cock the man would be a beautiful, crying mess the moment he swallowed his cum.

“I…” Vyn turned a little red. “I want to suck you.”

Marius swallowed as he hurried to comply, feeling a certain heat within him intensify. Vyn was already kneeling on the bed, making quick work unbuckling Marius’ belt and letting his cock spring free and fuck, Marius’ cock was heavy and warm and slick with precum, and Vyn felt his own twitch against the fabric of his pants.

He did not waste time. Vyn wrapped his long, slender fingers around his husband’s cock, feeling Marius throb against his palm, his cold fingers. He had sucked Marius dry since god knows when, but suddenly he felt like this was all new, that he was nervous and shy again, and it was as if he was taken back to their first night as two married men. That first night after Vyn said Yes, I do, I shall marry you, and Marius beamed and Vyn thought his husband could rival the sun. Funny what some husband quarrel and house violence could do to you—

“Just so you know, Vyn.” A low, impatient voice pulled him away from his thoughts. “I’m this close to shoving your face down my cock, if you don’t mind.”

Vyn bit his lip as he saw yet again that massive, hard cock staring right in front of him, waiting to be devoured. God, his husband’s cock was so beautiful, thick and velvety soft that his breath caught. And realizing once again that someone was getting impatient, Vyn leaned in and licked gently under the crown of Marius’ dick.

“Fuck.” Marius’ head dipped back, feeling his cock twitch against Vyn’s tongue. “Please—”

He rasped as Vyn complied, letting his mouth close around the head of his husband’s rock-hard cock—

“Fffuck,” Marius breathed, panting as Vyn made swirling motions with his tongue as he slid halfway down his length, “Fuck, Vyn!”

His eyes screwed shut, his hands clutching onto Vyn’s silver locks, and moaned out a broken cry as Vyn sucked his whole length, deep throating him, his wet, warm lips touching his Marius’ hot skin. “Fuck, Jesus.”

Vyn moaned around his cock, and as Marius felt it vibrate around him he dipped his head back again, seeing the goddamn stars. Vyn’s moaning didn’t stop even as he sucked his husband’s dick, Marius’ cock moving in and out of his mouth. Marius tasted so good. Every time Vyn sucked him it seemed he tasted even better and better, as if there were new flavours to his taste of clean sweat, of salty skin, and god even his precum seemed heavenly to Vyn’s tongue, melting like chocolate. His eyes fluttered shut as he sucked. God, he would suck this man’s cock forever.

Until Marius tugged Vyn’s head back, “Fuck, wait.” He panted heavily, and as he saw Vyn lick his lips—still glistening wet from his own saliva and Marius’ precum—Marius wanted to plug that pretty little mouth with his dick again. But he held himself together and said, “Wait. I’m… I was about to…”

“I’d swallow everything, Marius.”

“Fuck, stop it. Stop it or you’ll have to choke on my dick the rest of the evening.”

“What is the matter?”

Marius’ cheeks tinged a bit pink. He looked much like a teenager who wanted to try sex with his crush. “I want to… I—”

“Too good?” Vyn smirked.

“Fuck you.” A smile tugged at the edge of his lips. Marius caressed Vyn’s hair, as softly as he could. “I want to come inside you.”

Vyn swallowed, his mind once again drawn to their little memories of fucking every night until both their legs had given in, and Marius thought the same. God, he  couldn’t stop staring at his husband. Vyn looked ethereal bathed in the bedroom’s soft orange glow…

However this time it was Marius who was stripped—so quickly—from his reveries as he was pulled, thrown to the bed, with Vyn taking off his shirt, leaving his necktie around. His shirt was hauled off to the floor in a second, and now Vyn looked like some fallen angel as he straddled Marius, untying the silken tie with deft fingers, his wet lips parted in awe…

“What are you gonna do with that, huh?” Marius’ hand slipped round his husband’s waist. We’ve been married for years but goddammit, your waist is so fucking small.

“You’re gonna use that on me?” he added, whispering against the shell of Vyn’s ear, making his husband shudder. God, he loved it when Vyn did that. Loved it when his ministrations, even the smallest ones, had a great effect on him. “And look at you, don’t you think you’re a bit overdressed for the occasion?”

“I—ah—”

His cock twitched again that it almost hurt, as if begging to be hilted inside Vyn’s ass. Vyn had the sexy habit of whining and making those kinds of sounds whenever he’s surprised or caught unawares, like that very moment when Marius stripped him off his vest with one go, the buttons clinking on the floor in unison. Marius didn’t waste a second and gripped the sleeves of his doctor’s coat, tugging it off him.

Until Vyn caught his wrists and said, “Let me.”

The muse started taking off his vest—slowly, tantalizingly. He knew all too well this act was a feast for his husband’s eyes, for his cock. The slutty bottom that he was, Vyn removed his clothing alongside his heavy, sexy breathing, his mouth slightly ajar, with some stray, silver strands falling over his eyes.

The vest went abandoned. Thrown to the floor just like all else. The shirt followed, Vyn making sure the sounds he made were heard, acknowledged—oh acknowledged indeed, what with his husband’s erection poking against his leg—and he couldn’t help but suppress a smile knowing Marius was having a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

When everything was unbuttoned, Vyn let the right sleeve slide down his arm, revealing some skin on his chest, his collarbone, his shoulder. Marius had seen it all, but still he thought he looked so ethereal, and so hot all the same that he was torn between treating him right—sweetly, gently—and fucking him so rough and so hard he won’t be able to walk the next day.

By instinct, Marius looked away. He bit his lip as he did, setting his sights away as he was suddenly so overwhelmed, so doubtful—do I even deserve this, he asked himself, realizing that it had been his fault why the shoot-out occurred in the first place: he missed a lot of dinners with Vyn. He was always out for his business of killing other people. He hurt him in all ways possible, especially tonight.

But then, “Marius.”

His gaze returned to Vyn. “Darling?”

“Do not look away.” Vyn’s hands, soft and cold, reached to caress his face. “Just look at me,” he said, his voice like that of an angel’s, “this is all yours—all of me. I am yours.”

Marius made sure that shirt was off his husband immediately.

He’d kissed him again, a mix of love and dominance, of lust and longing. Arms tight around Vyn’s waist he pulled his muse close to him, skin to skin, but he wanted them to be closer. He wanted to be inside him—to own him, body and soul.

He loved Vyn. Marius wouldn’t know who he is without him.

“I love you,” he grunted as Vyn ground against his erection, “I love you.” His hands wandered up his spine and down his ass, squeezing it, eliciting a moan from Vyn. “I love you.”

But it wasn’t long until Marius took his black, silken tie, staring intently, lustfully at Vyn before he hoisted it in between them, “May I?”

Vyn raised his wrists in answer. “And my tie?”

“For your eyes,” Marius said, his eyes darkening. “I was thinking your mouth, but I love hearing your noises.

“I love hearing your moans. Your whines. I love it when you scream my name.”

Marius licked his lips, and his chest swelled with triumph as he saw Vyn shiver again, turned on by a few words. Vyn gasped in surprise as Marius finished tying his wrists, pulling on the knot a bit harshly than he’d intended.

“Now,” Marius said as he worked on Vyn’s red tie, “you love the dark, don’t you darling?”

A whine escaped his lips as he was pushed to the bed. He couldn’t even recall how Marius looped and that red, silken tie around his eyes. All he knew now was he’s on the bed, on his back, his hands tied in front of him. “Ah, Marius…”

“What was that?”

Vyn could only nibble on his lower lip. “Please… oh!”

He moaned as he felt his husband’s mouth, warm and wet, close around his nipple. His toes curled at the sensation, especially at how Marius knew just how to kiss, lick, and suck his nipple and make him cry and moan so loud. His body moved frantically, the pleasure almost maddening now that his vision was obscured, and not knowing what Marius was gonna do next was killing him.

However soon he felt large hands grip his thighs, hoisting them, and Vyn most willingly submitted by wrapping his legs around Marius’ hips. He was now on top of him, could feel his hot, ragged breaths against his skin.

“You’re so hot,” Marius whispered as he kissed Vyn’s beauty mark, that one on his collarbone, “I just love fucking you so much,” he said, before unbuttoning Vyn’s pants and sliding his hand down under, wrapping his fingers around Vyn’s length.

“Oh! Marius, ah—”

“Yes, just like that…”

“Please!”

“You like that? Damn, you’re actually making this harder for me… let me just…”

Marius stopped, his hurrying hands fumbling on Vyn’s pants, in much haste to get inside him. Oh how badly he wanted to fuck his husband when he all but looked like a willing captive, writhing underneath him—he let his fingers travel down under, lingering on Vyn’s back, then trailing further south, massaging his arse, lifting Vyn a little in the process.

Marius did not waste any more time and took the head of his own cock, moving his hard-on closer until it rubbed softly, carefully over Vyn’s hole. He rasped as he did a little push inside. “Shit.”

“M-Marius…”

Marius took that as his signal to push further, letting out a small grunt as he moved another inch, then another, and he took satisfaction witnessing Vyn’s mouth parting as he whined, silver brows furrowed in pleasure. “Ohh, Marius—”

Marius gripped on his husband’s waist and hilted his entire cock inside him.

Vyn whined again, so loud Marius wondered if his voice reached the outside, even with their windows closed. Vyn cried as Marius moved inside him, his thick, warm cock fitting perfectly in his ass, hilting deeper and deeper with each thrust that Vyn couldn’t stop muttering curses and Marius, Marius didn’t have any words for it—just sounds, low and needy. Just grunts, and moans, and whines and cries.

Marius thrust again. Harder, deeper—

“Ohh, just like that!”

“Yeah?”

“Mm—ohh, f-faster please—!”

Marius nodded frantically, and he thought how much Vyn had an effect on him that, despite Vyn being the one tied up and writhing underneath him, Marius was actually the one in his mercy.

Good. Deservedly so. Vyn Richter was his Saving Grace and he’d worship the man forever.

“Ah—fuck! Marius…!” moaned the older man, biting his lip as he welcomed the familiar pain—and pleasure—down his nether part. It was only then Marius realized he had been too excited to claim Vyn that the thought of using a lubricant or even covering his dick with saliva never crossed his mind.

“Fuck, Vyn. Does it hurt?” he asked, but never stopped moving, pulling and pushing back in.

“N-no! It feels good. You feel good…” he moaned as he shook his head, “I’d rather you—ah!—fucked me hard.”

And it was enough to make Marius pin his husband’s hands atop his head, cursing as he thrust in, and out, so hard and so deep tears started rolling down Vyn’s pale cheeks. “Faster?”

“Y-yes!”

Marius gripped hard around Vyn’s wrists, railing the man as hard as he could, making Vyn cry with each powerful thrust. The sounds of wet, forceful squelching echoed across the room and, partnered with Vyn Richter’s needy moans, Marius thought damn, I should’ve brought a recorder.

Well, it’s not like he couldn’t do that soon. Pretty sure Vyn would be most willing to film all their blasphemous activities together. “I’m close.”

“M-me too…” Vyn bit his lip, his back arching in ecstasy brought about by their bodies, skin to skin. Marius pounded faster. It felt like fire, really, and he felt his stomach surging and ebbing and surging again and again with pleasure. They moved in sync now, Vyn’s hips thrusting to match his husband’s pace, and he knew he was close when he felt that electric sensation zipping through his veins, his loins, his cock. “M-Marius…!”

His balls drew up tight as Marius slammed into him, again and again. Vyn could only let out a broken cry as he sensed Marius’ hand grasping his cock, jerking it as fast and as hard, perfectly matched with the way Marius pumped his dick inside him in a relentless rhythm.

Vyn came. Loud, majestic, his hot cum spurting on Marius’ stomach and making a beautiful mess there, much like the way he was one. His head was fucking spinning and he thanked Marius for it. And he kept on crying out even as Marius came, his fresh seed filling Vyn up like he was always meant to.

He kept on going. Grinding in him so deep, so sensual, thrusting again and again and letting his very hard cock feel inside Vyn, helping both of them through the very last of their orgasms. Again, then again. One last time, until Vyn croaked weakly, and Marius grunted as he fell on the empty space on the bed, beside his husband.

Despite the exhaustion, he shifted to his side. Took the blindfold off his husband. Vyn’s eyes fluttered open immediately, albeit blearily, the fringe of his long, silver lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. He gave Marius a weak smile. “That was…”

Marius let out a soft laugh, feeling the last bits of his energy dripping away. “I want to fuck you again.” He relaxed, but felt himself stiffen at the sight of his husband: ethereal. Beautiful with his cheeks flushed and mouth parted, his neck and chest gleaming in sweat. Vyn Richter, once again, in the afterglow of mindblowing sex.

“I love you,” he whispered, though he was not sure if Vyn heard. His eyes were already closed, and he looked like he was fast asleep. Marius smiled and snuggled close to him, with Vyn’s soft breathing lulling him to slumber.

==

Sometime around his dream, if he ever truly dreamed, he heard a silken voice say, “I love you, too.” Felt a gentle kiss on his forehead once, twice. Then another, “I will love you forever.”

When he awoke in the middle of the night, the quiet surrounding them, he saw Vyn was sound asleep. He rested his head against the hollow of Vyn’s neck, inhaling his sweet scent, and wrapped his arms around him. “Vyn,” he whispered, “I’ll love you forever, too,” before he kissed him on the cheek.

Somehow, Marius knew he hadn’t dreamt it.

==

Vyn awoke three hours earlier than usual, his eyes bleary, almost blind as he stared at the digital clock which blinked 5:58 AM. He wouldn’t be up this early, but his phone rang so alarmingly in the distance—atop that couch beside their bed where Marius fucked him the whole night—and with a ringtone he wouldn’t dare not pick up, lest he received yet another lecture. An hour or two of it, even if that lecture came from his, well… not his superior, because he was the superior.

He sighed—it was his junior calling. “Good morning, my rose.”

“DON’T ‘MY ROSE’ ME, RICHTER-VON HAGEN!” came his beloved junior’s rather sweet response, and Vyn instinctively pulled his phone away from his ear, unless he wanted his hearing damaged forever. “WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED TO YOU?”

“Language, beloved.”

“VYN!” Ah, there it was. He knew she was suppressing those sobs. It was conspicuous she had been pulling back tears the moment Vyn answered the call, the moment she’d heard his voice and confirmed he was alive, although not much well. “I was so, so worried about you… I thought… I thought you were—” she paused to take a light sniff, “dead. The squad is on their way. What happened?”

“I… I cannot tell you right now. I am sorry, dear,” he said, his gaze drifting to his husband who was still snoring in his sleep, and gods did Vyn thought Marius looked ethereal even during his most vulnerable moments. He fucked me so well last night…

“And please, Rosa,” he said, “tell the squad to halt their mission. I am all right—harmed, but I am faring well. And so is my husband.”

“Oh, my god. Mr. von Hagen was a witness?”

“Sort of. I shall tell you all about it when we meet.”

“Which is when, exactly?”

“Tomorrow,” he replied, his fingers running across the bare skin of his chest, wincing at the hurt from where Marius bit him. “You are in charge for now. Make certain the HQ is still up and about,” he said, “you are my second-in-command, so do what you must in my stead. Meet me tomorrow, same place.”

“Oh, uh—tomorrow, you said?”

“Yes. Is something the matter, dear?”

“Er, well…” she trailed, and Vyn’s brow arched in curiosity. He tried to rewind their past conversations, see if she’d mentioned anything she ought to accomplish tomorrow. There was nothing in particular, and Vyn was about to tell her twice until she cleared her throat and answered, “I actually… have a date tomorrow, Vyn.”

Ah. Understandable.

However, “I have taught you of the risks which comes along with our line of work. I hope you do keep your emotions out of your job—”

“What a hypocrite,” Marius muttered beside him. Was this idiot fake-sleeping the whole time?

“Never you mind. I am not against your relationships. I will meet you in two days, then,” Vyn continued—not without glaring at his husband first and foremost in the morning—and added, “but of course, what is this lucky lad’s name? Age, hair colour—”

“Luke Pearce, thirty years old. Coral eyes, chestnut blonde, and very cute.”

“Make certain you put up his records in the office. That aside—please enjoy your date, Rosa.”

Vyn pressed on the end button. He was thinking whether to check up on his husband or do a background check on Luke Pearce first, but he heard another phone call—this time from Marius’ phone—and even though he never truly meant to listen… well, however could he not?

“Hey, Luke?”

Vyn’s ears perked at the sound of his name. Luke.

“Yeah, sure. Wait, you can’t tomorrow?” Marius asked through the phone, his voice getting inaudible as he yawned, “oh, man. Congrats on bagging your first date—oh, wait a minute. Is this girl Rosa you’re going out with?”

“Who is that?” Vyn mouthed to him with those piercing golden eyes. My junior, his husband mouthed back, shrugging his shoulders. It’s not like I can hide it anymore from you.

Well, Luke was not his junior since Luke was older by a few years, but Marius had been an assassin earlier than him. And, well… he was Luke’s boss.

Vyn didn’t need to do a background check. He’d have to pester Marius for it. Just great, what are the odds that their juniors were going on a date?

The first thing Marius did when he ended the phone call was tackle Vyn into a hug, which the older man reciprocated much lovingly (despite his grumpy morning face). He was still scowling, but it was a contrast to the warmth which he gave Marius in return, and the eagerness emanating from him as he pressed closer against Marius’ exposed chest. It wasn’t very soon that Vyn had started nuzzling his face against his husband’s cheeks, like a cat trying to be sweet.

“Vyn.”

“I thought you addressed me as darling or love or baby, but I suppose we—”

“Really, Vyn? This early in the morning?” Marius laughed as he cuddled him more. “You know, I was just gonna ask you something…”

“You want to fuck me again?”

And there it was, that familiar pout and puppy eyes, all too powerful even for Vyn that he knew immediately he wouldn’t be able to deny him. Well, it’s not like he’d decline some more good fucking. “Don’t you want me to?” Marius said, his pout much guilt-enducing now.

But not until Vyn pushed the sheets down until it reached his thighs, revealing his now bulging erection, his sudden craving for Marius. “Whatever are you waiting for?”

“Fuck. You sure know how to—”

Another phone call.

Vyn sighed and took the phone. His eyes widened, only for a fraction of a second, upon seeing the caller ID.

“Please tell me you’ll ignore that.”

“Unfortunately for us—” he slid a finger down the green button, “we cannot decline this one.

“Good morning, Captain Morgan.”

“This is Artem,” came that deep, familiar baritone, and Vyn felt himself shiver from the way Artem sounded in the mornings. The senior lawyer had always been a morning person, but there were times too wherein he was too lazy to get up for work—can you actually believe that?—so Vyn had to do all sorts of things to get him moving. His voice during those moments hadn’t changed at all: deep and husky, almost seductive.

“Artem,” he repeated, and the name seemed to capture Marius’ attention, too. “Good morning. Why are you calling this early in the morning? And why are you using Captain Morgan’s phone?”

There was a sigh at the other end of the line. “Darius forgot to bring his phone,” he answered. “I called to let you know he’s coming, along with his squad. Too many noise complaints last night. They’re going to investigate.”

“Just so you know, Wing—my house is an estate. I am quite certain no one was bound to hear us…” Oh, shit. Marius threw a grenade in my garden.

He shot Marius a glare before he returned, “Tell Captain Morgan to go home.”

“I kept telling him that,” he replied, quite vexed now. “It was supposed to be our day off, Vyn. Our only day off, and you just had to ruin it.”

“It is not my fault you cannot persuade your boyfriend to stay in bed with you.”

“Are we—”

“Hello there, Artem.” Marius had snagged the phone away from Vyn, having felt that impending argument that would probably last hours—he wouldn’t admit that he was only jealous because Artem was Vyn’s only ex-boyfriend, almost husband—and had taken matters into his own hands. “We’ll meet Captain Morgan when he gets here, all right? I’ll tell him to go home, so let’s have peace, yeah? Bye!”

“I could have handled that, Marius,” Vyn spat, but not before Marius hopped out of bed and went to browse through his cabinet. He got himself a clean set of sleepwear in pastel green, Vyn’s most adored colour, and threw the shirt in Vyn’s direction. “Give me the pants as well.”

“No,” said Marius, already in the process of wearing it, “you take the shirt, I take the pants. It’s too long for you, anyway.”

Vyn crossed his legs, folded his arms. “What are you planning?”

“We’re gonna give ‘em a show.”

==

When Vyn opened the front door to their house, he was met with the rather hot welcome of flashing lights, towering video cameras, fully-dressed reporters and papparazzis in all black. He could make out the faint sirens coming from the police cars parked outside the estate, and he only hoped no one was able to round the bend leading to his recently-bombed garden.

“Vyn Richter, is it true there was a shoot-out here last night?”

“Vyn, did you have a quarrel with Mr. von Hagen?”

“Vyn, the people are curious—is divorce on the table yet?”

“Are you and Mr. von Hagen are going to be available in the marriage market again?”

“Vyn, rumors say that you and Mr. von Hagen are involved in matters of Mafia and secret services. Is that true?”

“Vyn, are you pregnant?”

His eyed widened. “I beg your pardon?”

“VYN!”

If he really ought to be true to his role of being a… babygirl who would pretend to be lightheaded or unwell after coming across crazy reporters with no sense of privacy, he would’ve done it after a few more moments or so. However Vyn truly was made unwell by said blinding lights and mad interviewers, and by instinct he pressed a palm against his temple and leaned against the doorframe, suddenly dizzy at the commotion. “Please…”

“Give him space, everyone. Move, move!”

Oh, dear. Thank goodness for Captain Morgan, he thought as Darius practically shoved the reporters out of the way as he reached for Vyn. A strong hand gripped him by the arm, enough to steady his slowly unstable body. “You okay, Richter?”

“von Hagen,” he corrected. “And not quite, Captain.”

“You can hold onto me,” he said, then faced the crowd of reporters again, “stop it with the cameras. If I see another shot I’ll have you all arrested—”

“You better listen to him.” Marius stepped beside Vyn, and in a heartbeat slipped his arm around his huband’s slender waist. Vyn felt his cheeks grow warm at the feeling of Marius’ hand holding him around the waist, in front of all these people—not to mention he was only wearing a green button top and Marius only in his pajamas. Thank god the cameras had stopped—courtesy by Darius who threatened an arrest—because those dark red hickeys and bite marks were clearer than the clearest of blue skies.

This man, Vyn thought as he leaned against Marius’ chest, he really likes to show off, doesn’t he?

He tried to hide a chuckle. It was true Marius loved to show off, but he loved it most when Marius showed him off for everyone to see, for everyone to know who owned him. At this moment, the message was pretty clear. Even the most senseless person would make sense what Marius wanted to say—that Vyn was his, and Marius was Vyn’s. It was written all over the young von Hagen: from the smirk on his lips, the red marks on his exposed chest. The top which covered Vyn’s probably hickey-filled body.

And so Vyn acted the part, pretending to be nauseous as he rested his head against his husband’s shoulder this time, and hooking his arm around Marius’. “I am not feeling very well…”

Marius squeezed his waist gently. “I’ll get you inside,” he said, and Vyn nodded faintly. Marius then turned to Captain Morgan, who was staring at them rather incredulously. It was conspicuous he never wanted to be here, to witness all this—he’d rather spend the day fucking Artem. “Sorry, Cap. I’ll give you a call and help you fix our mess. For now…” he paused and gestured to an exhausted Vyn, “my husband needs rest. You’ll handle this for now, yeah?”

Darius sighed, massaging his temples. “Yes. I’ll also let Artem know.”

“You better go home to him. He was pretty pissed with us this morning.”

“And whose fault is that, Mr. von Hagen?”

“Ehh ~” Marius pouted, but before he could say another word Darius asked, “What am I going to report? There were a lot of noise complaints. Some said it sounded like a grenade.”

“The answer is right in front of you.” Marius winked. “You see, this is what happens when you’re away for work too long. You tend to really, really miss your husband…”

Darius wanted to roll his eyes—no, he wanted to punch Marius. Does this brat really expect me to write ‘very loud, earth-shattering sex’ as the reason for those noise complaints?

Whatever could he do, though? He couldn’t possibly deny the Marius von Hagen of all people. Besides, he was not anointed as the newest NXX member for him to report Marius and Vyn just like that. Fine—he was going to write that unreasonable reason.

Marius seemed to know Darius was not going to deny him, and so the captain was met with the von Hagen’s signature, youthful grin that seemed to say: Hehe, you can’t deny me, can you?

Darius eyed Vyn one more time. He didn’t seem as sick as he appeared, but Darius knew he was indeed exhausted. However he wondered, as he waved the couple goodbye and ordered the reporters and paparazzis to keep out lest they get arrested, how can Richter—er, von Hagen—be this radiant after that violent shoot-out?

The moment Marius closed the door, Vyn muttered:

“Tell Vincent to arrange you an appointment with me,” he said, almost half-moaned, “based on my findings last evening, you need psychiatric help.”

… This hypocrite!