#vspra

@vspra: ❝ they'll listen to your command, ❞   vesper's reminder rumbled in his chest, and he let experienced hands slip over kafka's shoulders as he made to unclasp the harness keeping her coat draped so elegantly over her back.   ❝ they just need time to think on it. they'll come to their conclusions soon enough, mm? ❞   slipping the fabric away from her body, vess stepped back to hang it carefully near the door, rubbing the sleeve between thumb and forefinger for but a moment.   ❝ let me take your mind off it. ❞ it wasn't long before vesper scooped the hunter up by her hips, wrapping her legs around his waist without a second thought. he didn't carry her far, only to the chaise against the far wall, but the position made it smoother for him to move to his knees, leaving her perched on the edge of the lounge. after leaving a darkening hickey just under her jawline, argyros sat back on his heels and let viridescent eyes scan the shapes and curves of her body. he was hungry for her, he was sure she could tell, but that was not his first priority. ❝ i can't imagine these are the most sensible shoes... ❞   nimble fingers felt along the thigh of her boot, roaming over the leather curiously.   ❝ but you wear them like they're nothing. ❞ kissing down the inside of her knee, vess unbuckled, unzipped, and carefully removed each boot, stretching each calf out and setting the shoes aside. he pressed his palm to the ball of her foot, finally shifting up again to drag split tongue over her stockings, up her inner thigh, spreading them further apart despite the fact that she was still almost entirely clothed. both hands found her calves, massaging the muscles there for a few long moments before they crept further up her legs. he sighed against her skin, covered mostly by nylon, but no less kafka by feel, by scent. ❝ how valuable are these stockings? ❞

ㅤㅤㅤ𝐨𝐟   𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞   𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐝   𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧   𝐭𝐨   𝐡𝐞𝐫,   𝐢𝐭   was   practically   what   they   were   made   for   -   and   worst   come   to   worst,   she   could   always   make   them.   yet,   their   fearless   leader   had   been   in   a   somewhat   mercurial   mood,   leaving   kafka   less   than   privy   to   every   aspect   of   the   script   as   he   was   wont   to   do.   she   blamed   it   on   the   occasional   failed   mission...   regardless,   it   meant   extra   work   for   her,   extra   hours   cleaning   up   messes   or   expending   bullets   and   despite   it   all,   kafka   was   just   a   woman.   sometimes   she   simply   wanted   to   be   home   by   dinner,   and   not   have   to   wash   a   blood   stain   out   of   her   coat   the   next   day.   was   it   too   much   to   ask?   for   elio,   perhaps   so.   it   left   the   huntress   in   a   somewhat   cantankerous   mood...   though   it   was   hard   to   tell,   for   anyone   that   did   not   know   her   inside   and   out.   still,   it   was   why   she'd   summoned   vesper   here   -   a   call   to   her   private   chambers,   as   absurdly   opulent   as   they   were,   because   sometimes   she   didn't   want   to   think   too   much   -   or   if   she   did,   it   was   much   easier   to   do   so   with   the   feeling   of   his   body   against   hers.   

ㅤㅤㅤ❝ ⸻  i   could   just   force   them   to   listen.   i   am   being   benevolent.   ❞   silken   tones   are   wrought   at   the   edge   with   her   frustration,   but   it's   hard   to   focus   on   her   thoughts   with   the   movement   of   large   hands   about   her   body,   discarding   the   velvet   of   her   coat   and   regarding   her   flesh   as   if   it   wasn't   but   a   simple   wrapping   for   murder   and   mayhem.   she   regards   him   with   contact-less   eyes,   vivid   red   pupils   trained   on   the   handsome   being   as   he   scoops   her   up   as   easy   as   breathing,   and   she   falls   into   his   embrace   without   a   second   thought.   she   does   not   mind   the   queenly   treatment,   especially   from   him,   and   is   even   reluctant   to   remove   the   wrappings   of   her   svelte   legs   from   about   his   body...   but   does   so,   if   only   because   vesper   on   his   knees   is   possibly   more   exquisite   than   any   professional   painting.   

ㅤㅤㅤa   soft,   husky   breath   of   pleasure   murmurs   past   her   wine-colored   lips,   and   the   huntress   tilts   her   head   back   then,   silken   tresses   fanning   lightly   over   the   back   of   the   chaise   not   unlike   spilled   liqueur.   his   fussing   -   the   steady   slide   of   fingertips,   it   earns   him   the   vaguest   of   smirks,   and   perhaps   she   does   not   realize   it   -   does   not   know   it   -   but   that   is   definitely   her   legs   spreading   wider   the   second   the   he   speaks   again.   call   it   reflex   and   anticipation.   

ㅤㅤㅤ❝   fashion   over   comfort,   vess.   beauty   in   all   things   is   the   most   important   factor.   including   my   shoes.   ❞   and   yes   there   was   something   satisfying   about   running   someone   through   with   her   heel,   but   she   didn't   intend   to   ruin   the   moment,   especially   not   as   boots   fell   away   from   dark   nylon,   and   fingertips   caressed   sore   feet   and   tense   calves.   she   was   just   a   human   after   all   -   peak   physical   condition   or   not,   the   relief   of   pressure   felt   amazing,   and   earns   the   man   before   her   a   soft,   low   groan.   arms   raise   to   sprawl   across   the   back   of   that   chaise,   her   gaze   drifting   shut   momentarily   -   before   pinning   the   hunter   before   her   once   again.   she   was   practically   purring,   unable   to   resist   the   vague   quiver   of   anticipation   at   her   core...   but   she   doesn't   touch   him,   not   yet.   perhaps   later,   when   he'd   unworked   the   tension   from   her   system   like   a   stuck   gear.   

ㅤㅤㅤit's   the   tongue   that   gets   her,   the   promise   of   where   it   could   go   and   what   it   could   do...   oh,   yes.   she   is   just   a   woman   after   all.   ❝   a   few   hundred   credits   at   least.   would   i   wear   anything   cheap   ?   ❞   it's   supposed   to   sound   nonplused,   but   it   comes   out   a   little   breathless,   especially   as   her   gaze   flashes,   pink   tongue   darting   wantonly   over   petal   soft   lips.   ❝   shred   them.   ❞

vess may be smart, but he was also lucky. lucky in ways that may not save him in the future, but he doesn't mention that to cor. extra stress this late in the game was only going to cause problems, but he'd promised to let her know whenever he thought he'd run into the family stalker, so he presented that information without probing. " couldn't quite be sure, though i can't imagine anyone else is purposefully cornering me on hunts. nothing big today, just a bit of a nuisance... but i didn't want to come home empty handed. this'll be butchered in a few hours, but you're free to take what you need in the meantime, love. " he leaned in to kiss corazon's cheek, and followed it with a little nuzzle of his nose into her temple. divinity has always been her.

          corazon could still remember how painful her own turning had been, though she could not remember whether that had come from losing her humanity, or her miscarriage. all she could remember after was a hunger than burned more than both, and how satiated she had been on the blood of some poor unfortunate hiker stupid enough to approach the beautiful injured damsel. hiraya had not been a thought in her mind for many long, blissful centuries since she’d fled from the visayas archipelago. she could still remember all too vividly the shrouded figure of that woman, beckoning angel forth with long, outstretched fingers. it was as if she was rending cor’s life a second time, trying to take her baby once more, only this time this was no fetus, no obligation to a man she didn’t love. this was her baby, her sweet, mischievous, adoring angel. the thought of her coming for cor’s child another time was a terrifying occurrence.

          “   i’m not special in hiraya’s eyes.   ”   corazon was initially dainty with her food, using a knife to make a small incision near the spleen, watching lose viscera tumble out of the corpse.   “   given a new poor child to steal away, her attention will be on another in no time.   ”   unlike the usual warm rasp of cor’s voice, her tone was lined with the exhaustion that came with carrying. though angel’s birth had been anxiety inducing because he would be a miracle child, the first manananggal to be born instead of made, this little one’s term had been made all the more perilous due to the appearance of hiraya. vess was a capable man, a capable father, but balancing feeding corazon on top of fending off hiraya was too much. she was a nuisance they should have tracked down years ago, but now, she could not imagine hunting in her state, nevertheless another manananggal who was not in a vulnerable position. the body beneath her was fresh, but holding its bloody organs in her grasp, corazon found she no longer had an appetite. instead, went about the task of cutting up some choice pieces for herself and angel, separating them on a plate while gathering her thoughts.

          vess’ affections brought her back down to earth, away from the ‘ whats ’, ‘ ifs ’, ‘ ands ’ or ‘ buts ’ for a few peaceful seconds. she held onto vess’ cheek with unbloodied hand, holding her forehead to his in a moment of silent contemplation.   “   when the little one is born, then you and i will end this problem once and for all.   ”

@vspra ♡ starter

         𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞   𝐢𝐬   𝐚   𝐛𝐚𝐭   𝐨𝐟   𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠   𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬   𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫   startling   eyes,   and   if   one   looks   close   enough,   there   may   even   be   a   quiver   to   his   lower   lip.   

         ❝   please.   refrain   from...   speaking   mean   things   to   me.   ❞   were   those   rain   clouds   rolling   in   ?