open to : mascs/fems .
❝ do you like this , or something ? ❞ question hangs in the air , bayonet glistening as femme fidgets with it between index and thumb . peruses other's countenance , as it was giving off a mixture of fear & lust . quite amusing how it mirrored her own , inward , sentiments . minimizes lingering space between the pair , blade secured within petite grasp ― devious simper illuminating otherwise sapphic features . familiar ache builds in the pit of her stomach , as she holds rather dangerous object to her lover's neck . ❝ you're fucking sick , ❞ mutters , hint of adoration saturating her tone . ❝ are you going to be good for me ? ❞