Update: my brand new computer broke and I started a government job. I’m still here just waiting for things to line up my way 🥲

Update: my brand new computer broke and I started a government job. I’m still here just waiting for things to line up my way 🥲

send 🙌 to grab my muse by the throat

send 🙌 to grab my muse by the throat

Naughty Little Meme

❤ : Where on their body is your muse most sensitive? ✿ : Has your muse ever had sex before? ☜ : Does your muse like to top? ☞ : Does your muse like to bottom? ∀ : Your muse’s favorite position? ☺ : How often does your muse masturbate? ☂ : How long does it take your muse to hit climax, usually? ✌ : Is your muse good with their hands? ♡ : Does your muse have any birthmarks or scars they get embarrassed about others seeing? Á : Is your muse loud in bed? ⚔ : Does your muse have any specific kinks? ☌ : Would/does your muse have any special piercings anywhere? Would they get some? ♥ : Does your muse like to cuddle after sex? Anything else for aftercare?

👅-Would they rather give or receive oral sex? 👠-Do they watch pornography? If so, what kind? 💋-Do they use tongue when they kiss? 😈-Favorite sex position? 👎🏻-What is an absolute deal breaker in the bedroom? 🐶-Favorite pet name they like to be called? 👄-Do they swallow? 👙-Favorite outfit in the bedroom? 💦-Best place for their partner to cum on/in? 🌶-Most sensitive place on their body? 👑-Daddy kink, yes or no? 💍-Ever had an affair? 🏢-Most public place they’ve had sex, or would like to have sex? 🍒-When and how did they lose their virginity, if they have?

Flectere si nequeo superos

No one was leaving. Not if Rafael wasn't the one doing so. No, instead he eyes the kid, hands shaking from the obvious pain he was in, teeth gritted together so tightly that he can hear the bone in his jaw CREAK from the sheer pressure it found itself in. He watches the kid like he hadn't eaten in WEEKS and he yet he doesn't lick his lips, he doesn't pant like a dog laboring at the end of its leash wanting nothing but freedom from it. 

He simply runs his mouth as he pleases, wanting to see the other squirm for him in his own apathetic sort of way. 

❝ 'm burnin' up, baby. D'minute y'walked through that door. ❞

He forces a pained laugh to disguise the wet CRACK his thumb makes when he finally works it from its socket. It distracts him from the pain in his leg but it's a new pain entirely and he can't help but welcome the familiar rush of adrenaline that now flooded his veins, his body's response to a situation it perceives as DANGEROUS. If this could kill him, he deserved to die. Luckily for him, he did everything but go down easy. 

It was easy to dismiss the sexy talk; but that didn't mean it wasn't new to Jonathan. It just meant that he wasn't quite sure how to handle it in regards to responses. It also didn't help that he had never been that into it at all. Not through lack of opportunity, but definitely through lack of desire. Jonathan slipped himself a painkiller, washed it down and hoped it would take that annoying edge off. He should enjoy shit like this. This just felt like-- it was more spikey than it needed to be.

The laugh - that laugh didn't help cover shit. Mostly because when he cracked that thumb, he felt it. Enough for him to drop the closed bottle he was holding. He hadn't expected it; the surprise sharpness in his hand, and with a small hesitation, he looked back over at the guy. If he was being honest, he knew what he did. But he had no idea how that could help Rafael or even if it could work for him to get free. But even so, the stakes were higher, and he needed to think twice about everything he did.

He grabbed the water from the floor, and threw it lightly on the table, before taking his knife and motioning to him with it, stepping forward. He opened his mouth to talk, but the words stopped before they left his mouth, and instead, he squinted at Rafael. Thinking. "Fucks sake." He muttered to himself. Great. Couldn't threaten him with a gun, because if he killed him Jonathan would have more shit to worry about than just Rafael. He wasn't allowed to. Bad. Now didn't want to get close, out of, admittedly, fear. And couldn't stay back because his only job here was to keep him tied up. Great work, Rafael. Just great.

So- what's the last thing he could do? He backed up again, grabbed the gun that was lying on the table, and turned his attention back to Rafael, keeping his distance. "So you weaponize your sexuality to make other people uncomfortable and scared of you?" He frowns, and after a small pause, he nods to him. "Does it work?"

He'd snicker, a flare of rage embedded in the gesture. He didn't like being analyzed. He'd been sent to a head doctor as a kid and he hated putting on a show. He was himself, unapologetically so and this kid thought he did it just for him? 

❝ Don' gimme none a'that PC BULLSHIT. ❞

His leg is trembling, the pain registering on a physical level but his stubborn streak and pigheadedness coupling beautifully with his adrenaline to keep him from feeling the full extent of what would normally be excruciating agony. He works the ropes behind himself as he speaks, biting out words as his usually warm brown eyes seem to grow dark, the dilation of his pupils making them BLACK in the dim lighting. 

❝ Me seein' you's as a PIECE OF ASS is how I fuckin' see you. If y'wasn't such a FREAK, I wouldn' look at y'twice. Y'just what I WANT, an' I take what I want, I don' go FUCKIN' ASKIN'. ❞

The burning sting of rope being worked over his now purple thumb causes him to bare his gritted teeth like a dog. There'd be foam in the corners of his mouth if he'd taken a few more hits before the kid had nabbed him. He'd make up for that later. 

ill block you. ill block your whole family. i’ll come to your house. steal your phone. block myself

❝ Right, can't leave m'mug too gnarly. Carlos, te me encargas, cabron! ❞

He trusts he's presentable for whatever the other had planned. He'd been patched up time and time again so he simply delegates one of his stray men to clean up his mess as he turns his head, his neck giving a sharp 'POP' at the pent-up stress he had taken on from committing yet another crime. 

❝ We doin' some french shit again? ❞

He rarely eats and only consumes his calories in liquor, drugs, or small snacks akin to a bird. On weekends he does allow himself richer foods to entertain business partners and the like but even those only consist of protein and the rare carb. Clark was more refined so Rafael followed him in any culinary exploit out of sheer curiosity. 

❝ I don't know, do you want to do 'French shit' again? ❞ he muses, makes his way towards where he assumes the exit to be.

❝ I was thinking somewhere local. Surely you know the area better than me. Hell, take-out is fine. I imagine you'd rather rest anyway than get dragged somewhere to dine in. I'm indifferent either way. ❞ he pauses, turns on his heel to face the man again.

❝ You're the one that's had such an exciting day. You make the call. ❞

He gives an amused chuckle. The other was so REFINED, and yet the sharp wit managed to come through albeit in kinder, less harsh words than Rafael's own. He'd sniff, not batting an eye as Carlos carries a corpse on his shoulder past him and towards the back alley. 

❝ There's a Cuban place, El Pantano. Pretty decent, Saul can sear the fuck outta a'steak. Beans, rice, an' a nice side salad. Beats d'em greasy snails. We can eat an' talk, yeah? ❞

His place was closer since he had no idea where the blonde lived. He begins to text, giving another underling instructions on picking up food.