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murdrdocs · 5 months

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ENJOY THE SILENCE. sejanus plinth

description. being tasked with placating sejanus plinth by doctor gaul seems like an impossible feat. turns out all it takes to be successful was revealing your true feelings.

includes. SMUT 18+, dialogue heavy, slightly manipulative!reader, capitol!reader, oral (m receiving), snowballing, sejanus typical angst. title from enjoy the silence by depeche mode

wc: 6.4k+

By the time your fist meets the thick wood of Sejanus Plinth’s bedroom door, you’ve started to lose your way.

Somewhere along the line of you walking from the Academy to the Plinth residence, entering the home by invitation of Ma Plinth, eating her sweets while listening to the woman speak about how worried she was about her son, and finally walking down the hall to his bedroom, you’ve almost forgotten why you’re here in the first place.

But forgetting would be too good to be true. How could you forget about how you were summoned into an empty classroom by Doctor Gaul, staring into her unnerving eyes as she praised you for what you could be, and barely what you are now?

At the time, you instantly wanted to protest the task of going to the Plinth residence to seek out a certain outspoken boy who didn’t realize his privilege. But one glare from over her nose put you in your place, and you begrudgingly left the Academy to come here.

It’s not that you disliked Sejanus. You felt the opposite, mostly. You were definitely not one of the other Academy students who preferred to make his life hell since you all were eight. But there wasn’t much you had in common with the boy, no mutual connections that pulled you in each other’s orbit save for a few shared classes and a handful of projects.

It was natural for you to question Gaul on why you had to be the one to do it. And as if it was natural, too, she shrugged, examined the walls of the Academy, and told you, “You have the potential to do something great. Prove yourself to me and surely I can find a guaranteed spot for you at the University.”

It barely made any sense to you—how getting Sejanus Plinth to stop speaking his mind could prove your potential to be a great student at the University. But you were desperate, your future so close and within reach. You didn’t want to jeopardize it before it began.

So as soon as classes ended, you grabbed your things, called off the driver, and walked to the Plinth residence where you hoped to prevent Sejanus Plinth from becoming a problem.

Your three knocks against the door taper off to silence, which makes the shuffling on the other side even more prominent. Sejanus doesn’t ask who it is, likely assuming the visitor to be his mother or father, and not one of his classmates who was only an acquaintance. He yells out an invitation to enter and you push the handle down, allowing the door to swing open before taking a step inside.

You don’t get much of a look at Sejanus’ bedroom. Only enough to notice that it’s a typical Capitol room with minimal personalizations. Deep gray walls, white crown molding around the ceilings, light brown hardwood flooring. A picture of the mountains not far from the Capitol sits above a large desk across the room, and a window on each side of the wood lets in the natural light from outside. On the left wall sits a large four poster bed with a cushioned back.

And resting atop it is Sejanus. He stares off at the wall across from him, looking at nothing as it’s bare. But when you don’t speak, his eyes look over at the door. At you.

Your lips pull into a tight smile, you fold your hands behind your back.

“Oh.” Sejanus sits up a little straighter. “I didn’t know you were here.” You know he means no harm by it, but his words come out a little detached. A little rude. He seems to sense it immediately as he licks his lips and invites you in.

You aren’t sure whether you should leave the door open or shut it behind you. Ultimately, you decide to return it to the state it was in before you arrived, not letting up until you hear and feel the latch click into place.

Sejanus uncrosses his feet at the ankles as you approach him. He’s still wearing his uniform just as you are, but the blazer and the outer skirt are removed. You notice them sitting at the foot of his bed. His relaxed nature makes you feel better about peeling your blazer off.

You fold it in half and set it beside his which is thrown on the duvet without any precision, red material hanging off of the edge with one side showing the outside and the other showing the interior.

“What’re you doing here?” This time, his tone is of pure curiosity, lacking any possible negative connotations. It makes you feel better and you sit at the edge of his bed not far from him. The size of the furniture makes you feel further than you are.

“Um…” You take a second. Why are you here? Because Doctor Gaul sent you? Telling him that would do nothing but align yourself with the others. It would make your visit seem hostile. Like you’re here to threaten him, and not to warn him.

You clear your throat. “I’m here to check on you.” You hadn’t noticed the suspicion in Sejanus’ eyes until it’s gone and replaced with neutrality.

“Oh.”

You nod once.

“You seemed really upset in class earlier today. When Gaul came to visit.” Sejanus tenses up at the mention of the head gamemaker. His eyes shift to the otherside of the room, his jaw tightens, and you’re really thankful that you hadn’t directly associated yourself with the woman.

“And I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

Sejanus doesn’t look at you again for a second. Then, he shrugs, wringing his hands together in his lap as his brown eyes find you once more.

“I’m okay. As okay as I could be.” With the way he says it, it makes you scoot a little closer to him. Enough for a friendly distance, but Sejanus still glances down at your thighs briefly.

“Your tribute. You knew him, right? Back in District Two?” It takes you a second, but you add: “Back home.”

That seems to soften Sejanus a little more. He flattens his hands onto the rogue of his trousers.

(His thighs look exceptional in the material. You don’t think anyone else quite fills the pants out like he does. Except maybe Festus Creed but his sour attitude squashes any possible attraction you could have towards him. Attraction … are you attracted to Sejanus?)

Sejanus speaking pulls you from your muddled inner dialogue.

“Yeah. We were classmates before we moved here.”

You’re not faking it when you tell him. “That’s awful, Sejanus.”

Your sincerity has a better effect than something planned could have. Sejanus’ shoulders lose their tension. He knocks his head back against the cushioned material of his headboard, closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t speak and neither do you. But eventually, you can’t sit in the silence for much longer.

“You can tell me about it … if you want.”

Sejanus peels one eye open and he stares at you for a second, maybe trying to decide if you’re serious. And you’re doing the same. Are you telling him this because you want him to feel safe with you? Even then, are your intentions pure?

There’s no point in dwelling on it more because Sejanus scoots over in a wordless invitation, a gesture that is more of a formality than anything else since you could have easily fit beside him without movement. Either way, you slide up to Sejanus’ side and when you do, you sit a little too close to him. But you decide it would have been rude to scoot further away so you stay put.

That’s the only reason.

Not because sitting this close to Sejanus makes you feel giddy inside and you like how he smells (clean is the best way to put it, with the gentle aroma of baked goods wafting off of his clothes and it’s no wonder where that aspect comes from).

Sejanus begins with telling you of his time back in District Two. He tells you about the Plinth family status, above the baseline of citizens in Two, but he was still well liked throughout his home. He tells you about moving, how alone he felt when he was younger. How alone he still feels, and you lay it on thick when you tell him he isn’t alone. Not when he has you.

Sejanus has reasons to dispute you. It’s not like you’ve gone out of your way to defend him against your cruel classmates. You barely do anything, occasionally slipping in a comment against one of them that was truly for your own benefit if anything. Up until now, the only thing you’ve done to show Sejanus Plinth that he isn’t completely hated in the Capitol has been treating him with the same kindness you gave to others.

But he doesn’t say anything. Anything at all.

You start to consider that you’ve fucked everything up. You’ve failed Doctor Gaul and she would condemn you and kick you out of the mentorship program before you’ve even had a real shot at proving yourself.

The thing that stops your spiraling thoughts is Sejanus’ hand atop of yours. You still, unsure on what to do. But then you turn your hand over, letting your palms kiss before they intertwine, and you feel the warmth of his hand. It’s comforting.

You turn your head to look directly at Sejanus instead of out into his room, surprised to see him already looking at you.

“Thank you.” You watch his lips as he speaks, completely missing the sincerity swimming in his eyes until you flick your gaze up to them.

You can’t help but think about how soft his lips looked as you lick your own, completely forgetting about the previously meticulously applied lipgloss.

“For what?”

Sejanus begins dragging his thumb across the skin of your hand. It’s incredibly distracting.

“For everything.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

He smiles, soft and teasing and gentle and you’re starting to admit that Sejanus Plinth is really cute.

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

You think about all of those times you could’ve done something. When you could have joined in on poking fun at the Plinth family. When you could’ve condemned their efforts to fit in, and also their efforts to keep their district practices alive, all in one breath.

Had you not joined in because you were better than that? Better than them. Or had you kept to yourself because you felt sorry for him?

The boy, born district and forced to move to the Capitol. Now unwanted by both groups. Trying his best to blend in and stick to himself, even though his moral beliefs obviously prevented him from completely assimilating.

Maybe you didn’t feel sorry for him. Not when he had a life like this. A lavish home full of luxury goods. A father with power that could rival the oldest standing families in the Capitol, yours included. And slightly less important, a mother who kept even the rarest of guests satisfied with her goods.

Your standings on your feelings for Sejanus Plinth become more confusing whenever you find yourself gravitating forward towards his lips. You don’t notice you’re doing it until you can feel his breath against yours. Your lips are so close, just one hair of a movement and they would be touching, but you stop.

“Is this …” The question hangs unfinished in the air. You have intentions to finish it. At least you think you do, but Sejanus’ free hand cups your cheek and he closes the gap.

Kissing Sejanus Plinth is gentle, to put it simply. His lips move tentatively against yours as if he doesn’t have much experience doing this and you’re not surprised. Personal endeavors spread across the Academy faster than rabies spread throughout the Capitol during the Dark Days, and if Sejanus Plinth was hooking up with someone you would have known by the next morning.

His perceived lack of experience makes you more confident. It makes you press your lips harder against Sejanus, taking the lead as you start to encouragingly move your lips against his. Your lipgloss rubs off, you can feel it as Sejanus’ lips gain more slip to them with each movement. It aids in the kiss becoming messier, that and your combined enthusiasm.

You scoot even closer to him, your legs blindly bumping into each other. Yet, you’re not close enough. You quickly want more of him. You need more of him.

He tastes like his mothers treats, the sweet tang of pie on his tongue melding with the same taste on yours. You savored the pastry from Mrs. Plinth earlier in the day, taking your time to enjoy every single bite and taste the flavors in all of their glory. With Sejanus, you take and take without consideration of savoring. He tastes so good, having your body pressed up against his like this feels so good, and you can’t get enough.

You must gorge yourself until you’ve had your fill. But you fear that your limit may never come, that you’ll be thoroughly addicted to Sejanus Plinth and nothing will ever fill the void.

This worries you for a second, but then Sejanus is un-intertwining his hand away from yours and instead using his palm to press into your lower back.

Just this one touch is enough to dizzy you and once more, you forget why you’re here. Why you’re in the Plinth residence, sitting in Sejanus’ bed, still wearing your Academy uniform.

It’s not until Sejanus pulls away for a full breath of air that you remember. Staring into deep brown pits that you could easily lose yourself in, you’re reminded of the singular brown eye belonging to Doctor Gaul. They don’t have any similarities besides the base color. Sejanus’ eyes are uniform, for starters, and full of warmth.

Still, you remember, and concern strikes through your body for a second. When you move away from Sejanus, you can see the sadness in his eyes.

You ignore how it upsets you.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

Sejanus still has his hands on you, and you’re not sure if you’re thankful for that or not.

“Why not? Do you regret it?” He speaks as if he’s afraid of the answer. So you bless him with the truth.

“No. I don’t.” You stare down at your nails, everything swirling inside of you confusing you. You have no direction of where to go from here. This part wasn’t planned. So you stick with the part that was.

“It’s just … I don’t want you to think that’s why I came here.” The hand he has on your cheek leaves but the one at your back stays.

“I thought you came here to check on me.”

You look up at Sejanus and he seems a little standoffish. His eyes are a little bit harsh, maybe concealing hurt. But his hand is still at your lower back and you take that as a good sign.

“I did! But I also came here to warn you.” His eyebrows furrow, but he doesn’t say anything so you continue. “The Capitol is dangerous, Sejanus. They’ll do anything to protect themselves.” Why’re you telling him this? Despite its true nature, your words made you seem like you don’t support your government. The one created to protect you. And why’re you speaking to him as if you’re not Capitol. You’re proud of your heritage, but something about sitting in Sejanus’ room, your body this close to his, makes you want to briefly leave it all behind.

Maybe it’s because you want Sejanus to believe you. Yes, you need to speak like someone from the districts so the district-born boy will believe you. That’s all.

“And I know you’re just speaking your mind, which is great. But Sejanus … if you continue and you say something particularly harmful to the government, they could hurt you.”

There’s a beat. A moment of silence where Sejanus considers your words. His eyes search your face, they drop to his lap, and then they find you again. “I appreciate the concern,” he says your name, letting it hang out in the air for a moment before continuing. “But I’ll be fine.”

He might be fine, but if he goes back to mentoring tomorrow and says something treasonous, you won’t be. Easily, Gaul could determine you unfit, unable to do as simple of a task such as pacifying your classmate.

It’s a risk you can’t take.

You sigh, shuffling closer to Sejanus and cupping his face in both of your hands. You sit on your heels at this point, knees digging into the mattress right beside Sejanus’ thigh, creating a hole in the soft bedding.

Sejanus’ head is tilted up, allowing the light to meet his cheeks and eyes. He looks innocent like this, just a young boy who doesn’t realize what he’s saying. You hope if he were to continue challenging the ideals of the Capitol, then others would see him as you do now. Maybe without the lust starting to cloud your mind.

“Just please, Sejanus, please make an effort.” Then, exaggerating the situation a little more, you bat your eyelashes and pout a little as you beg, “for me?”

That does it. Sejanus’ eyes glaze over a little, as if tears are gathering in them. But he blinks and they clear up.

He nods, turning his head to the side so he can press a kiss into the palm of your hand. His hands wrap around your wrists, he slides them up your arms and around your back where he encloses your waist with his arms.

“Okay.”

And this time, you’re aware of yourself surging forward to press your lips against Sejanus’.

At first, you tell yourself you’re doing it to complete your empty confession. Nothing but tying a pretty and large bow on top of your hard work. But then, when Sejanus pulls you closer into a hug, and you trail your hands to the back of his head as he starts kissing you with an open mouth, you realize that you’re kissing Sejanus because you want to.

Because he’s attractive and sweet and unlike anyone else around you. He’s a breath of fresh air, despite his troubles that sometimes constrict your airflow with the stress his actions cause you and others.

It all seems worth it when Sejanus pulls up the back of your button up shirt and presses his hand flat against your back. His palm is warm, and just the single touch of skin on skin ignites something deep in you.

You spread your legs more from where you’re straddling him until you’re sitting on his lap instead of holding yourself up on your knees. There’s many layers between you both, your pleated overskirt a notable one that causes trouble, but you can still feel Sejanus through it all. His thighs thick and comfortable, a slight tent in his trousers that’s surely just his dick existing in a flaccid state. You grind against him once, one firm and fluid push and pull motion of your hips, and Sejanus cants his hips up into yours. You’re sure it won’t take much to get him hard.

To put your theory to test, you grind down onto Sejanus again, and he’s quickly groaning, pulling away from your lips to knock his forehead against yours as his hand digs into your hip. You don’t bother hiding your smile, Sejanus’ eyes are closed anyway.

You use the time to run your hands along the sides of his head, fingers tickling along the short hairs at the sides. Sejanus is silent, taking steady breaths, and it’s then that the weight of the situation dawns on you.

Surely Doctor Gaul didn’t have this in mind when she sent you to the Plinth house. Yet, her words ring throughout your otherwise empty head.

“Your classmate, Mr. Plinth. He’s going to be a problem. Stop him while he’s ahead.”

And when you dared to question her on why you had to be the one to do it, and not another student like Coriolanus Snow for example, she glared at you. Her back seemingly got straighter, the chip on her shoulder grew to double its original size.

“Don’t you want a spot at the University? Prove yourself to me here, and surely your application can be boosted to the right people, a few good words whispered in their ears. That is if you succeed. Placate him. Put a pink pacifier in his mouth and a bonnet on his head for all I care just shut him up.”

Her words were stern, absolutely no room for argument, which is why you packed your things up and accepted your fate. But here, like this, is this how you’re going to placate Sejanus Plinth?

Is this a means to get him to trust you? To keep his mouth shut on matters of the Capitol? Or do you really want this?

Sejanus’ hands slide down your sides and settle right above your ass. You can’t help but wish they would go just a little further down.

His touch is sturdy and strong. You feel comfortable in his hands.

“We don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to,” you tell him, your words soft spoken and almost vulnerable. You curse yourself for them, but Sejanus doesn’t seem to latch onto the tone. He doesn’t use your moment of vulnerability to his advantage, like predator to prey.

Instead, he opens his eyes and looks up at you.

“I would like to continue. If you feel the same.”

You use your hands at the side of his head to push his visage back, latching your lips onto his gratefully.

From there, things move fairly fast.

You make quick work of your button up, pushing the buttons out of the slits so you can peel the shirt off all together. It’s thrown behind you, likely to end at the foot of the bed along with your outwear.

You don’t want to stop kissing Sejanus, but you let him pull away when you realize he wants to look at you. You're wearing a shirt, just a thin fitted camisole, but Sejanus still drinks in the sight anyway.

His eyes, a little lidded yet no less interested in your presence, graze over your décolletage. When you realize he’s content with just staring, you latch your hands onto the hem of the camisole and peel it over your head, exposing your plain black bra, the final layer of your top half.

Sejanus takes a deep breath, you both hear it and see it, and only when he has returned to his normal breathing pattern does he speak.

“May I?”

You nod, sitting up a little straighter as Sejanus’ hands trail up from your ass to the back of your bra. You expect him to struggle for a second, maybe fumble around and pull the back in the wrong direction once or twice.

But in one motion Sejanus has your bra unclasped and he’s pulling it off of your shoulders.

He palaces the garment gently beside you both, far enough away to not disturb you in the meantime.

You briefly step off of Sejanus to pull your trousers off, and Sejanus does the same once his shirt is off. Yet he removes his pants with slight difficulty. He’s too eager, he forgets to undo the button at first, and then the pants get caught at his feet. But eventually, there is a matching set of Academy rogue uniforms at the foot of Sejanus’ bed, and you’re sitting atop of him once more, playing with his hair while he blatantly stares at your tits.

“You can look and touch, Sejanus,” you tell him, voice light and a little giggly. Sejanus laughs a little at himself, raising a hand and resting it on your breast. He’s stiff at first, and you’re about to open your mouth and tell him what to do, but then he’s rubbing his thumb over your nipple before rolling it in between his fingers and you’re stunned. You sigh gratefully, hands resting on his shoulders as your eyes flutter shut.

You let him continue fondling your breast, already desperately desiring more, and that feeling only multiplies whenever Sejanus latches his lips onto your pert nipple. He could do anything to you right now and you would melt. You would have never guessed that Sejanus Plinth of all people could have this effect on you.

He has you frantically grinding your cunt against his boxers. He has you whining at basically no stimulation, both satisfied with what you’re being given and also calling for more. He has you eagerly pushing your panties to the side to allow your cunt to catch the cotton fabric without anything in the way.

Sejanus unlatches from your nipple at this, staring down at you with weathered breaths. You think you can hear him swear, but you can’t really hear anything through the thick haze already settling in your mind. The one that drives you to get what you want, no matter what’s required of you to get it.

When he licks around your nipple one more time, you see it, Sejanus’ eyes big and full of wonder, no hatred or sadness in them. Maybe he is being placated.

You want Sejanus. It’s something you admit to yourself briefly, not letting the thought sit in your brain long enough for you to feel any emotion attached to it. At least, not any real emotions as the only thing you can feel is a desire to bond with Sejanus in a way you’ll never be able to take back.

As you’re guiding his hand down to your center, you consider it, how things would be after this occurrence with Sejanus. Did it mean more to him than it did to you? Did it mean anything to you?

Sejanus’ pointer and ring finger glide along your panties and any other thoughts you have rushing through your brain leaves, replacing with a chant of more, more, more.

You stare down at him with what you’re sure is hunger in your eyes. Your forehead knocks against Sejanus’ as he circles your clit, and you can’t help but wonder how he’d found it so easily, only fumbling once before he made contact.

Maybe Sejanus is more experienced than you thought.

He’s preparing you, circling your clit long enough for your cunt to start leaking, creating a steadily growing patch in your panties. But, you’re impatient.

Your fingers roll down the waistband of Sejanus’ boxers enough to free his cock, unable to hold back the embarrassingly comical face you make. You can feel it in the way your features contort, and you can see it with the way Sejanus looks up at you, amusement in his brown eyes and a big grin taking over his usually stoic face.

All he says is “yeah”, his free hand cupping your cheek while his other hand starts to pump two fingers in and out of you. He’s a little cocky about it, at least that’s how you read it. You’re missing the slight insecurity that lays across his face.

You would tell Sejanus that you’re unsure about taking all of him, but your refusal to admit defeat prevents you from uttering the confession. Instead, you shuffle down his body without breaking eye contact, momentarily mourning the loss of his thick fingers inside of you before you focus on your new task.

“Can I suck you off?”

He stares at you, hesitating, blinking a few times, and you figure it’s just taking a second for him to process. You spend the time gliding your nails down his abdomen, scraping the perfected ends in the hair under his navel that leads to his cock. You go further down, raking the red manicure through the (thankfully) trimmed hair at the base of his cock.

It’s when your hand hesitates right above Sejanus’ cock that he responds.

His answer is quick, curt, and simple, even though he stutters through it the first time.

You smile and settle yourself between his thighs completely, circling your hand around the end of him. You try not to let his girth intimidate you, instead you spend a few moments shamelessly ogling at his—admittedly pretty—cock before getting in the position you’ve become fairly accustomed to in your final semester at the Academy.

He’s big, bigger than anyone else you’ve been with thus far, and uncut. Impressive in a nice combination of length and girth, although he’s slightly wider than he is long. You don’t know if the width making up for the length will have any difference when he will inevitably stretch out your mouth.

You relax your jaw and stick your tongue out a little to prepare to rest his weight along the muscle. Just the first touch of his tip against your tongue makes Sejanus gasp a little. It’s small, and if the room wasn’t as silent as it is maybe you wouldn’t have heard.

But you did.

You let your eyes flicker up towards him as you lick around his tip, laying your tongue flat and gliding it over his slit.

Sejanus’ hands grip the sheets beside his hips, which flex a little as if he’s about to fully sheath all of him inside of you at once. You don’t bother hiding the smirk that spreads across your lips when he notices he doesn’t.

“So obedient,” you murmur, perhaps for him to hear, too. Either way, Sejanus hums and nods.

His eyes flutter shut, dark lashes somehow prominent even against his tan skin and in the steadily lowering light in the bedroom. With his chest rising and falling, and his curls falling over his forehead, he looks pretty.

Sejanus Plinth has always been pretty. You find no shame in admitting it.

You briefly tear your eyes away from one pretty sight to another. There’s a trail of almost clear fluid running form from Sejanus’ tip, glistening along the side of him. You follow it with your eyes for one second, and then let your tongue follow the same path.

You don’t focus much on the flavor, it’s not your main focus at all currently. Instead, you focus on the pleasure that takes over Sejanus’ being.

This time, he lets his hands find your head, a large palm cupping the side with the tips of his fingers digging into your hair. You expect him to push you further down like men in the past have, but he doesn’t. His hand doesn’t do anything at all.

It’s an unfamiliar feeling, being treated this fragile. You don’t know if you like it or not but you also decide not to focus on it at all.

There’s nothing to focus on other than Sejanus.

Having cleaned him up a little, you wrap your lips around his tip with intentions to make more of a mess. You sink down on him slowly, trying to pace yourself, but it’s hard whenever Sejanus is making such pretty noises above you.

Small whines that get trapped in his throat, transforming into something that sounds more similar to a groan. When you look at him, you see his eyes heavy lidded, almost closed, as he stares down at you. His heavy eyebrows create a shadow that makes his gaze look intimidating. Briefly, you see Sejanus for what he could be perhaps with time, a man who’s tough and takes what he wants. It’s wishful thinking that Sejanus Plinth could become like this, but you can easily see yourself with a man like that, completely comfortable with the familiar go-getter attitude of the Capitol.

Really, Sejanus Plinth is the opposite, a man who works towards what he wants out of desire to do good.

His hand strokes your cheek and he nods.

“You’re so good at this. Please, keep going.”

You didn’t even know you needed it, but the encouragement from Sejanus makes you breathe through your nose a little more pointedly as you take the final bit of him that you can fit.

It’s not all—you don’t know if you could fit all of Sejanus without training—but for your first time it’s enough.

You let your mouth hang open to allow any remnants of saliva to drizzle down the rest of Sejanus, gathering it in your fist and using the lubrication to comfortably stroke the rest of Sejanus’ length.

It takes you a little while to get in a rhythm. You forcibly control your gag reflex and breathe through your nose but even then, with each movement down and up, you feel like you’re choking on Sejanus’ cock.

You pull off of him after only a few moments, taking the time to swallow and breathe without controlling it. He lets you take your time, not a single complaint leaving his lips as he patiently waits for your lips to find him once more.

You continue to suck Sejanus off, now needing some attention yourself. You fix the way you’re sitting to spread your legs enough to position the heel of your foot against your cunt. It’s slightly uncomfortable, your foot a little too hard for your delicate center, but it thoroughly gets the job done as your eyes flutter shut when you feel the friction.

You hollow your cheeks, swirling your tongue around the tip of Sejanus before sinking back down on him. He groans, low and deep in his chest. His head falls back and thuds against the padded headboard. His legs lift at the knee for a second, before they meet the mattress once more. And finally, the hand on your head gains pressure. He pushes you down a little, not nearly enough weight for you to have to fight against, more like a calm encouragement.

One you take confidently, sinking yourself all the way down and removing your hand from the base of Sejanus’ cock. You can’t stay like this for long, your throat is already threatening to seize up, but you slink your hand down to Sejanus’ balls, fondle and massage them in your hand for long enough, and then he’s digging his hand into your scalp and gripping for dear life.

He grunts through gritted teeth, his hands get tighter in your hair, and you realize that he’s trying to pull you off of him.

“I’m close,” he says your name urgently, “you gotta get off. ‘M gonna…”

His hips twitch up towards you, you swear you feel his cock twitch, too, and then Sejanus spurts warm cum straight down your throat.

You slide off of Sejanus, letting his cum trickle down along the way, freeing most of it from your mouth. Sejanus watches. He licks his lips just before you do the same to yours, and you’re quick to lean up before you swallow the rest of him.

His hand still hasn’t left your hair, so he just slides it down to the side of your neck as your lips meet in the middle.

The kiss is hot, to put it simply. Sejanus’ other hand is on your lower back, then your breast, then your ass, before finding a home between your thighs. He presses his tongue against yours, not caring about the remnants of his cum on your muscle. In fact, he licks around your mouth, running his tongue at the back of your teeth for good measure.

By the time you pull away, you figure that after he’s shot a load right onto your tongue and then licked it off, Sejanus would be done. You expected him to kiss your cheeks and maybe offer a glass of water like the gentleman he is.

But instead, Sejanus stares up at you with wide eyes, lacking any sign of exhaustion. “Can I…” he starts then stops, glancing down at where you’re still straddling his softening cock. His fingers start to run up and down your cunt.

He starts again. “Can I make you feel good, too?”

His questions shocks you a little. Yeah, you didn’t cum, but you didn’t expect Sejanus to focus on that. Besides, that’s not why you’re here. Or, it’s not why you’ve done what you did. You gave Sejanus head because you expected him to be in a sex haze after that, maybe believing he was linked to you in a way that would demand he abided by your pleas.

(At least, that’s what you reason with yourself)

At this point, if you let him get you off, it would be just a bit of fun. You’re tempted to say yes, your lips forming the simple word, but just then you tell him:

“You don’t have to.”

Sejanus’ eyebrows furrow. “But I want to.”

God, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to say no.

“Not today, Sej,” you hope the nickname (that you’ve never said before nor have you ever heard anyone call him that) would make him give in. “It’s getting late and I have to get home and … your parents, they should be home soon, too, right?”

His face deflates and once more, you briefly feel bad. Guilt weighs on your shoulders. Fear that you’d just missed out on something that will never come your way again settles behind your eyes. He removes his hand.

He nods, rubbing his lips together before nodding again. “Yes. Yeah. Okay. I understand.”

It’s not long after that you’re standing at the Plinth front door, one hand on the knob and the other holding your bag.

Sejanus stands in front of you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Despite your previous rejections, his face still has a different glow to it now, taking over the previous shadow that resided on his features whenever you arrived earlier.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

The way he says it is full of expectancy, like you’re a thing now. It’s odd that your smile is genuine.

“Yeah.”

You take a step closer to him. “And think about what we talked about okay?” Before I sucked your dick, you resist adding. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Sejanus smiles softly, takes a step forward, staring down at you with something like amusement in his eyes. As if he’s pleased by you caring about him.

“Okay. I will.” As he reassures you, he leans in until your lips are pressed together a final time. You don’t want to leave the kiss, letting your hands rest on his shoulders as his rest on your lower back.

He pulls back, his features all around a little softer.

“Promise?” you ask.

“Promise,” he confirms.

For some reason, you don’t believe him.

#sejsworld!#sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth x you #sejanus plinth smut #sejanus plinth #celeste writes thg

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coralinnii · 1 year

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Under a mistletoe with them feat: Idia, Sebek, Epel, Cater genre: fluff note: relationships is up to interpretation, no pronouns were used, I have no idea how mistletoe traditions actually work so that’s something to note,

“Grim, would you please help me with the decorations?” You pleaded, exasperated with the lazy monster laying on the couch while you hung up lights in the living space.

“Why should I? This was your idea anyway” Grim grumbled which left you to sigh.

You realize that Christmas doesn’t exist in this universe (or at least your version of it, anyway) but feeling nostalgic and a little homesick, you thought decorating the Ramshackle dorm would bring your mood up a little…if your dorm mate would be a little bit more cooperative.

“Well, the faster we finish decorating the faster I can get started on making cookies and some hot drinks”

“Myrah, why didn’t you say so? This place will be Crust-mas ready!” the young monster was quick to his feet at the mention of a sweet reward, yanking the decorations around to hang them in a haste.

“It’s Christmas” you chuckled but decided with Grim motivated well enough, you thought you could head into the kitchen to get a head start of the treats you promised. You already told the cat-like creature where things should be.

To be fair, you should have expected for things to not go as planned when the mistletoe you made in good fun falls atop of your surprise guest

Ortho convinced his brother to give his thanks in person when you offered to take his place for in-person presentation (Crowley refused to let him do it through his tablet). Idia figured he could quickly give his thanks then run back to his dorm. That’s fine, right?

He was close to a heart attack when the mistletoe fell on his head, poorly attached by Grim and you kept yourself from laughing while you plucked the decor from Idia’s flames.

You explained the mistletoe and its old tradition, which Idia just can’t believe the gall of your world.

“What crazy normies would ever think of this nonsense?! You’re jumping someone with this boss-level task without warning or prep! That's practically mission impossible!”

Despite the complaints, you saw that he didn’t move from his spot. He wasn’t trapped as he said he was and he could have walked away after saying his thanks, as he planned.

So, you took the chance. Hovering the mistletoe between the two of you, you gently place your lips onto his pale cheeks. A light feather-like touch but it set the senior’s heart racing and hair ablaze as he stumbled back onto the cold pavement.

Idia’s felt his body burn along his fiery locks as he clutched the fabric atop his chest in poor hopes to calm his speeding heart. His senses are going into overdrive as his mind replays the sensation of your soft lips on his cheeks over and over. He’s seen animes with lucky protagonists who get the chance like this and he's ashamed to catch himself occasionally switching the fictional couple as the two of you in his mind. But dreaming about it is vastly different from the real deal.

“T-This is why I can’t understand you extroverts, doing this like it’s no big deal! Don’t you have any mercy for poor souls like me?”

“Hey,” Idia flinched at the way you crouched to his sitting level, leaning your close to him. “Aren’t you being a little harsh?”

“H-Huh?”

“I wouldn’t do that with just anyone, you know?” You pouted before half-hardheartedly glared at the blue-flamed man, who couldn’t look away from such a cute sight “I did it because it’s you”

It was a Christmas miracle Idia didn’t pass out on your front porch.

Sebek was on his way to drop off some blankets and other warm materials to keep you from freezing in the dilapidated building you and Grim call home. Afterall, your weak human body can’t possibly withstand the cold unlike him (which is true, but he shouldn’t just say it).

He was about to go on another rant when he caught the decorative plant before it could touch his hair, appalled by the crumbling state of your dorm before you explained that Grim probably didn’t hang it properly.

He questioned the strange plant in his hand and you explained an old-fashioned tradition from your world, to which made the mixed fae to blush profusely.

He’s flabbergasted by the audacity of your world, to give away kisses so freely. He grew up learning the legend of a princess who shared her first kiss with her true love that broke her curse and he secretly hoped the same for his future love.

“You humans are so imprudent, so flippant with something that should be treasured!”

“Well, we don’t have to do it” you frowned, a little disappointed “Though, I wouldn’t mind it if it’s with you”

Now, Sebek was caught in a dilemma. Despite all his expressed displeasure, the chance to finally kiss you literally fell on him and you’ve given your consent to him. It may not fit the expectations of his first kiss with (not that he has ever thought about, of course!) but he wonders if another chance like this would ever come again.

Coughing into his fist to cover his nerves, he straightened his posture but his line of sight shifted to the side, avoiding your gaze which shook his confidence. “Since it is part of your tradition, I would be a disgrace to Lord Malleus’ name to disregard such a thing as his knight”

You would still have to be the one to close the gap however as Sebek shifted closer to you but with his eyes screwed shut and slightly shaking, he doesn't realize that he was still too far to reach your lips.

You took pity on the poor boy and closed the gap yourself, your lips gently on his shaking ones. You felt the green-haired student flinched but you said nothing about it, opting to lean your weight onto his built body. You could feel the green-haired fae relaxed under your touch, slowly leaning towards you himself to prolong the intimate moment.

When you separated, you saw that Sebek was slow to snap out from his daze, taking a while to open his bright green eyes and realize you already leaned away.

Quickly correcting his posture, he gave you a short goodbye and a nod before turning to walk back to his own dorm, taking quick but stiff steps at a time. You wondered if Sebek remembered that he still had the mistletoe in his grasp. You smiled, hoping to yourself that he would come back to return it.

Epel was making his way to your dorm with a crate of treats from his hometown. He was excited to share his family’s apple jam, hearing that you were planning to make cookies with jam fillings.

But imagine his surprise when he suddenly saw a strange plant land atop of his crate when you opened the door, with you softly cursing Grim for his lazy decorating.

You explain your reasoning for decorating and the strange plant to Epel and he suddenly felt the heat in his cheeks. Growing up without too many kids his age around, the idea of such a lovey-dovey tradition would never cross his mind.

“….Does it happen a lot to you?” He carefully asked as he placed the crate down to inspect the plant, hoping not to sound too jealous of the idea of you kissing other people. It may be a silly tradition but still, having the idea of others having such a chance with you rubs him the wrong way.

“Ah no, never” you replied, feeling a little shy. Despite making the mistletoe yourself, putting it up and doing it are two separate experiences. You explained that not many people do it anymore because “only the boldest” would ever go through with it, and you’ve never had such a chance.

Epel saw this as a chance to prove his confident, masculine side. Boldly, Epel picked the mistletoe and placed it as high as he could between you two. With a cocky grin, he asked you “Wanna give it a try, then?”

Perhaps a little too enthusiastic, Epel crashed his lips onto yours a bit too harshly, shocking you from the pressure of the kiss. After the shock however, you found a rhythm between you two and you closed your eyes to fully indulge in the touch. Be it his natural genetics or Vil's regime, you enjoyed the feel of Epel's lips on your own which felt soft to the touch despite the dizzying passion behind it.

Epel was the first to move away, breaking the spell. He’s brimming with pride looking at your dazed expression. He picked up the crate once more, bringing it into the kitchen.

“Come on, I’m curious about the cookies you told me. Could I stay and watch?”

You didn’t notice how the lilac-haired boy pocketed the mistletoe, already planning a trick or two that night.

The redhead ordered a few magicam-worthy pastries but since he doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, he thought you would appreciate them more than he would (plus he wouldn’t mind taking a few pictures too).

When you opened the door, he was intrigued over the decor you and Grim put up and he had to stick around for some good shots when he felt a soft weight landing on his head. He saw the cute decor and asked you about it.

The more you explained the old tradition of the mistletoe, the more excited Cater was. How could he not with such a cute premise and the picture-worthy opportunity he could have with you. He had to try it, with your consent.

Since it was his idea (even though it’s your mistletoe), he decided to take the role as the initiator of the kiss. You trusted Cater so you closed your eyes and nervously waited for his kiss.

But Cater instead took the time to admire your face. He watched how your hair complimented the frame of your face, the pretty shade of your lips, the curve of your nose he would love to boop, and especially the plumpness of your cheeks.

He also saw the slight shake from your nerves, perhaps he made you wait too long, he mused.

Slowly, he captured your lips in his with a sense of gentleness you weren’t expecting. You could swoon with how soft Cater’s touch was, how careful he was with you to ensure your comfort.

The two of you separated, both a little light-headed from the experience. You felt hot from the sensation of the kiss but you can’t say you hated it.

“Ooops, my bad” you heard Cater, which you worriedly looked to. Cater himself looked a little embarrassed but not too upset.

“I totally forgot about taking pictures” you also realized that you didn’t sense the flash of his phone. Cater did pull out his phone this time and smiled coyly at you.

“Mind if we do another take?”

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lisbeth-kk · 10 days

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May Prompts (23) Apology

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter23)

Summary: Rosie shares a surprise with her parents and uncle. All of them have different thoughts about this unexpected development, and silent negotiations are carried out.

Twenty-Three Years Old

I knew that Papa not fully understood my reason for studying international politics and data, but to his credit he didn’t for one second try to convince me to give it another thought and opt for something science related instead. Dad was just relieved that I’d finally had found a path to walk, after several failed attempts. Uncle Myc, well he tried to hide how utterly pleased he was with my choice, but by now I knew him well enough to read the signs. Truth be told, said signs weren’t that subtle.

“Bien choisi ma chérie,” he beamed at me, while Papa scowled at him.

“Merci oncle,” I retorted. “I can’t wait to start this and go to Paris.”

The three-year BA degree was taught by The University of London Institute in Paris. We would be taught in English, but if we had an A level in French, we could also take French courses. I’d learned French in school for years, and uncle Myc and I often conversed in French when uncle Greg wasn’t around.

I think it’s needless to say that my security and comfort in France was well taken care of. Papa and uncle Myc had a conversation using their eyes only when I spilled the beans. Dad knew exactly what was going on and went to make tea while negotiations were carried out. Once the brothers were satisfied, uncle Myc took out his phone and sent several texts or emails. By now, I knew it’ll be futile to pester any of them of what was going on. I was just relieved that no one had tried to talk me out of it, making me feel uncertain or guilty for leaving the country; actually, moving out of my childhood home.

My reasons for choosing this subject were multifaceted. I’d always enjoyed learning facts, obscure and otherwise, about different countries and cultures. Having had a relatively unorthodox upbringing, containing all sorts of people, played a big part too. The cherry on top was that the school was abroad. Nana’s tales of her experiences overseas and how educating it is to have lived some time in another country and society, had always seemed enticing to me.

***

The university was situated close to the Invalides and the Seine, while my lodgings were in the Charonne area in the 11th arrondissement on a cosy cobble street, with a nearby metro station. My landlady, Marguerite Vachon was one of uncle Myc’s acquaintances, from where, I still have no idea.

Marguerite preferred that I used her given name instead of the formal, Madame Vachon.

“Je ne suis pas ancient,” was her favourite line and reminded me quite a lot of Nana.

“I am not ancient, dear,” was a statement Nana had used every so often.

Marguerite was a petite and elegant woman. Her hair was cut in a bob, coloured black with a few red stripes. I never saw her without lipstick or makeup. She always wore bespoke dresses and high heeled shoes. I deduced that she was far more than a landlady. When I left for school in the morning, I could hear her sing or talk on the phone, and when I returned, she always opened her door and inquired about my day.

“She’s clearly spying for Mycroft,” Papa’s voice told me.

And there was something about her, which I couldn’t put my finger on. Something mysterious, secret, perhaps even dangerous.

***

It seemed like Marguerite had my schedule memorised. Not that I’d given her the information, but when she slipped, I got my suspicions confirmed. To be fair, it wasn’t slipping per se. She couldn’t have known that class was dismissed early that day.

Luckily, I spotted her and was able to hide behind a wall before she saw me. I’d almost missed her, because she wasn’t wearing her normal dress and high heels, but red trousers, a white and blue-striped jumper, and white trainers. Instead of one of her posh handbags, she had a dark blue canvas bag diagonally draped over her chest.

Papa had taught me a few tricks when it came to the fine art of following people without being discovered. I’ve never had much use of them obviously, but now I saw an opportunity. How I would explain this and apologise if I was caught, never crossed my mind.

I was sceptical when Marguerite walked to the metro station, but I was able to get into the same carriage as her, and it seemed that she had no idea she was being followed. She got off three stops later and walked in the direction of the big Père-Lachaise cemetery.

A fitting location for obscure and shady affairs.

Marguerite knew where she was going, walking briskly but not hurried. I had walked the premises several times before and knew where she was headed when I saw the grand tomb of Sir Richard Wallace, the British baronet who contributed millions to the Parisian poor during the Siege of Paris in the early 1870s.

This reeked of another posh Brit I knew.

When Marguerite had placed a folder by the tomb and another woman picked it up five minutes later, I had a hard time keeping myself composed. The woman picking up the folder was the French equivalent of Anthea.

I sent uncle Myc a text when both women were out of sight.

Thanks for keeping track on me, but this thing is like being part of a French noir film. You can tell Papa I think you’re both growing sentimental, and I demand an apology!

Also available on AO3

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @raina-at @helloliriels

More tags in the replies

#may prompts 2024 #may 23: apology #sherlock fandom #rosie watson #sherlock #john watson #mycroft holmes #johnlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic #ao3 fanfic

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goldenamaranthe-blog · 3 months

Text

First Tears: Chaggie

Chaggie Week of Firsts - Day 4

In the Morningstar mansion (castle, it's definitely a small scale castle) guest bedroom where Vaggie is sitting up in bed with fresh bandages. Charlie is sitting on a plush chair at her bed side. The remains of a shared lunch sit on a platter on the bedside table.

Charlie: Soooooo.... Pa-pa-pa... (taps her hands against the edge of the bed) How are you feeling?

Vaggie: Honestly, I'm doing much better. (clears her throat) I probably should have said this earlier, but thank you. For all the help. I'm not used to... well... any of this.

Charlie: (beams with sunshine sparkles) It's no problem! Really! Actually, you being here has been amazing!

Vaggie: I've literally just been sleeping and being a leach.

Charlie: YOU'RE NOTHING LIKE A LEACH!!! Ah! Sorry. You're not a leach, Vaggie. I've appreciated your company. (softens and stares down at her hands on the bed) It makes the estate feel less... lonely.

Vaggie: (eyes soften) Hey.

Charlie: (looks up at Vaggie) Hmm?

Vaggie: (gently places her hand on Charlie's) I get it.

Bedroom Clock: Tick! .... Tick! .... Tick! .... Tick! .... DONG!!!

Vaggie: (blushes and looks at her hand before quickly tearing it away) Sorry! Sorry. I probably should have asked first.

Charlie: (blushing so hard her cheek circles disappear - thinking: I'm never washing this hand again - before snapping back to the present) NO!!! No! It's fine! Fine! Really! I've already manhandled you while you were topless, it's only fair!

Vaggie: (remaining eye nearly pops out of her socket as she blushes harder)

Charlie: (stomach drops) NOT LIKE THAT!!!! Like from when I've helped you bandage your back!!! I haven't been sneaking into your room at night to cop-a-feel!!! I swear!!!

-Awkward Silence-

Charlie: (trying her damndest to save the conversation) H-Have you ever wondered why.... pineapples don't wear sunglasses?

Vaggie: (blinks in sheer shock at the sudden shift in conversation) Pineapples don't have eyes.

Charlie: But imagine if they did! They'd be the coolest fruit around. Speaking of cool, do you know what's cool? Penguins. They waddle around like they own the ice.

Vaggie: Uh-huh...

Charlie: And then there are those random thoughts that pop into your head! Like, why do we say "heads up!" when we really mean "duck"?

Vaggie: (rolls her eye as she slowly untenses her shoulders) ......I've got to be dreaming right now.

Charlie: (completely misses Vaggie's statement) Oh! D-Did you know that the universe is expanding? It's like a giant balloon getting bigger and bigger, except there's no clown making balloon animals out of stars.

Vaggie: Pfft! (covers her mouth) Charlie, please...

Charlie: Okay, okay, I'll stop... After I tell you about this amazing deodorant I found! It smells like vanilla mixed with a hint of honey, and it mixes perfectly with my cherry apple shampoo and body wash! I smell like an apple pie!

Vaggie: (whole face goes blank) Did- .....Did you just say you smell like an apple pie?

Charlie: Um... yes? Isn't it delightful?

Vaggie: ....heh

Charlie: Vaggie?

Vaggie: Hehehehe...

Charlie: Vaggie, are you okay?

Vaggie: (bursts into laughter so loud that it makes Razzle and Dazzle jump up from their naping spot in the windowsill) I cannot believe you're real!!!

Charlie: (undignified pout) Hey! What's that supposed to mean!?

Vaggie: (doubles over in laughter as tears stream down her cheeks) You... you smell like an apple pie!

Charlie: (pout sets deeper) Hey, don't make fun of me!

Vaggie: (still laughing and wiping away a tear) I'm sorry! I just... I can't believe you actually said that!

Charlie: (smiling back before pretending to scoff haughtily) Well, it's true! And it's not just any apple pie, it's like... gourmet apple pie!

Vaggie: (gets sent into another round of giggles) You're the Princess of Hell for fuck's sakes, Charlie!

Charlie: (trying to hold back her own laughter) And I smell A-MA-ZING!!!

Vaggie: I shouldn't be laughing! That shampoo and body wash you gave me makes me smell like a pina colada every time I shower!

Charlie: (laughter finally bursts passed her lips) Maybe I did that on purpose! Make you smell so good I want to drink you down!

Vaggie: (still giggling) What? You want me to take a bite out of you while you drink me in or something? I don't think you taste as good as an actual pie, Charlie.

Charlie: (snickering) Wanna find out?

-Pause as the world goes silent-

Charlie: (blushing) I-I mean....

Vaggie: (arches an eyebrow and smirks) Maybe another time, princesa. We did just eat lunch.

Charlie: (steam billows out of her ears as she undergoes a full body blush) Hoooooooh-oh-okay.....

#chaggie #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggiefirsts #day 4 #tears #tears of laughter count #sorry - folks - I'm not making Charlie her usual rainbow this time #that would have been painstakingly obnoxious #everything finally came to a head in vaggie's mind and she had a small mental breakdown #apple pie #pina colada

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louddydisturb · 9 months

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Evil, ornery, scandalous and evil, most definitely

Harry, uma agente viuva negra. Foi enviada para a "missão tomlinson", missão comandada por zayn malik há mais de 2 anos onde o principal objetivo era exterminar o lider da maior facção do reino unido, louis tomlinson e ex namorado de harry antes dela as informações dele para o black widow project

Louis, 28

Harry, 26

Tw: violencia, knife play, blood kink, h!inter

Ultima one shot por um tempinho pq minhas aulas voltam segunda e eu vou me foder estudando mas volto em setembro ainda pq tenho umas q só falta finalizar

Ainda aceito ideias

Boa leitura!!

"Precisamos que faça um trabalho hoje a noite" zayn, chefe de harry, fala assim que a cacheada entra na sala ampla

"Eu ia na operação stones hoje" styles fala brincando com a arma em seus dedos

"Não vai mais, coloquei lauren no seu lugar" zayn tira alguns papeis de uma gaveta "sente-se por favor" harry acomoda a glock no suporte em sua coxa e senta na cadeira em frente a mesa do homem onde ela pode ler perfeitamente o nome da operação

Operacão tomlinson

"Ah não" ela bufa "não quero ir passar recado"

"Não irá passar recado, vamos por um fim nessa operação" os papeis são colocados na frente de harry que folheia um por um "hoje louis tomlinson chegará por volta das 11:00 da noite de uma de suas boates na parte boêmia de londres, você tem 1 hora para entrar no apartamento sem deixar rastros e fazer uma surpresinha para nosso amigo de longa data" zayn entrega outro papel, era a planta do prédio "confio em você, styles."

✨️

"Agente 1, na escuta?" Harry escuta um dos reforços falar no ponto em seu ouvido

"Na escuta" harry se abaixa no peitoral do terraço do prédio de tomlinson "reforço 1 e 2, fiquem preparados" ela diz terminando de prender a especie de corda que ela usar para descer até a janela do 25° andar, apenas 2 andares abaixo de onde ela estava "descendo para o alvo"

A cacheada pula do parapeito do predio, ficando presa pelo suporte em sua cintura

Ela desceu devagar fazendo o minimo de barulho possivel e então chegou na janela grande que dava a visão do apartamento completamente escuro de louis

Ela tirou uma especie de chave universal de seu cinto, não demorando mais que 5 minutos para estar caminhando pelo apartamento

Era um bom local, decoração moderna, organizado e limpo -- não por muito tempo --

"Agente 1, carro do alvo localizado, está entrando no estacionamento do predio"

"Tudo em posição" ela senta confortavelmente na cama king size do quarto grande, a adaga rodando em seus dedos

Seus olhos verdes caem no relogio analogico na parede