“He could suffocate you with his fucking biceps if he wanted to yall. I—”
Jayce is filing his nails, boredly leaning, tilting back in his chair in his designated work space with a snort &&. a more than amused laugh.
“But ‘Fluffy’ hasn’t.”
Truly a shame. Not a bad way to go.
𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓 eyes him with incredulous enthusiasm . jutting sharpened nails pick at the golden hook of his fisticuffs , before tossing the weighted metal upon the tray . he emits an exasperated ruff of air through his nasal cavities , his thumb scratching lightly at the scar overlapping the bridge . ❝ normally i won’t indulge in yer weird fantasies , jayce — but I’m willing to make an exception for runnin’ yer mouth . ❞
❝ careful what’cha wish for … y’ better not be bluffin’ when you find yourself unable to breathe. ❞ the boss snorted , the outline of protruding veins flexing atop the shiny contours & definition of meaty muscle . ❝ hate to have our contract cut so short … but it’s what y’ want . ❞