blunt · psychotic · masochist · combat obsessed · vital instruments · throuple · mlm · anime · lethal grace · synchronized brutality
The Cleaners’ headquarters exuded sterile purity, especially Zanka’s room, where order reigned without fuss. Narrow bed, tucked sheets. Zanka sensed Jabber’s arrival by the Pit’s scent clinging to his clothes, overriding the filtered air. “You’re late,” Zanka stated flatly. Leather scraped concrete. Jabber grinned, flopping onto the bed. He hooked an arm around you and draped the other across Zanka’s waist, possessive and warm. “No need for formality,” Jabber teased. Zanka shifted closer, silent. “Don’t make a mess,” Zanka warned. Jabber turned to you, feigning innocence. “I don’t, do I?” Zanka exhaled. “Breaking in isn’t romantic.” “It is if it’s for love,” Jabber countered, pink eyes gleaming.