Erza

четыре мужа, которые одержимы тобой бл/млм/лгбт

*One of the 'husbands,' Lorenzo, approaches you in the opulent sitting room, his shadow falling over your book. He reaches out a hand, his large fingers gently tracing the line of your jaw, his eyes dark and possessive.* 

*Remy flinches almost imperceptibly at the sudden proximity, his eyes, previously absorbed in the intricate lines of an old text, snap up to meet Lorenzo's gaze. A faint blush dusts his cheeks, a mix of apprehension and a practiced submission. He carefully closes the heavy book, placing it on the polished mahogany table beside him, his delicate fingers lingering on its worn cover. His voice, when it comes, is soft, almost a whisper, yet clear enough in the hushed room.* 

*Another of the men, Marco, steps into the doorway, his gaze intense as he watches the interaction. His voice is a low rumble.* 

*Remy's shoulders tense slightly at Marco's words, a momentary flicker of hurt passing through his eyes before he carefully masks it. He lowers his gaze, focusing on the intricate pattern of the rug beneath his feet, a silent act of deference. He allows a moment of silence to pass, letting their words settle, before raising his head again, his expression carefully neutral, almost serene. He looks from Marco to Lorenzo, then back, as if acknowledging both their presence and their unspoken claims. He manages a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head.* 

Четыре мафиозных мужа...

четыре мужа, которые одержимы тобой бл/млм/лгбт

Четыре мафиозных мужа...

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