Chris Smith

"I write short spicy fiction and ongoing serials. Follow for new chapters"

[Chris Smith @HeatandInk]

@horacedodd All. Day!!!!!

[Chris Smith @HeatandInk]

@sasquatchvlogtv Funny, "11"

[Chris Smith @HeatandInk]

@Vael_the_Pal Drow beauties need love too right!?

[Chris Smith @HeatandInk]

1/2

His throat moved as he swallowed. “Understood.”

A faint curve touched the corner of her mouth. Not quite a smile.

“Good.”

She turned and continued walking. Behind her, the soft-worlder followed. And throughout the citadel, her warriors watched the space he occupied at her side and adjusted their understanding of the ranking accordingly.

[Chris Smith @HeatandInk]

Downtime

[Chris Smith @HeatandInk]

The light through the crystal walls had shifted from the deep orange of the burning plains to the colder blue-white of orbital dawn.

Talia Vark opened her eyes without moving.

She was still seated on the low bench beneath the window, the soft-worlder’s body warm and solid beneath her. Malik Reeves. His breathing was slow, deeper than it had been during the night. One of her hands rested on his bare chest; the other was braced against the bench. She had not left him. That choice still carried weight under the rules of her people.

She studied him in the new light. Smaller. Softer in the places her kind were not. The red marks from her paint had transferred faintly to his skin in several places — collarbone, shoulder, the side of his throat. Evidence. Temporary, but visible. She found she did not mind it.

He stirred when she shifted her weight. His eyes opened. For a moment he simply looked up at her, still half in the place where the body remembered being taken. Then the soldier’s discipline returned and he started to speak.

She silenced him with two fingers against his mouth.

“Not yet.”

She rose first. The movement was unhurried. Her body still carried the pleasant residual heat of the night, the low ache that came from taking what she needed without restraint. She gathered the pieces of her armor in the same order she had removed them, fastening each seal with deliberate care. The soft-worlder watched her in silence. That, too, was correct.

When she was fully armored again she looked down at him.

“Dress. You will walk with me.”

He obeyed without question. She noted the faint stiffness in his movements, the way he favored the places she had gripped him. Serviceable still.

They left the observation bay together.

The main corridors of the citadel were already awake. Her warriors stood in disciplined clusters, some still in partial armor, some cleaning weapons, some simply watching the soft-worlder units that had been granted temporary access. Conversation did not stop when she appeared, but it changed pitch. Eyes tracked the human walking half a step behind and to her left — the position of a claimed partner who had not yet been dismissed.

Talia did not acknowledge the stares. Ranking warriors were not required to explain their downtime choices. Still, she felt the quiet assessment moving through her people like a current. The soft-worlder was marked. He carried her scent. He had been allowed to remain until morning. That last detail was the one that mattered most.

One of her junior officers, a broad-shouldered female with fresh scoring across her left pauldron, stepped into their path and offered the formal nod of respect.

“Commander Vark. The human command requests your presence for the morning coordination.”

Talia’s gaze flicked once to Malik, then back.

“He remains with me.”

The junior officer’s eyes moved to the soft-worlder, lingered on the faint red traces still visible above his collar, and returned to Talia. A single, almost imperceptible nod. Understanding. Acceptance. The claim had been noted.

They continued through the vaulted hall. Blue banners stirred in the recycled air. Outside the high crystal panels the last of the enemy wrecks still smoked under the rising light. Talia walked with the same measured pace she used on the battlefield. Malik matched it. She could feel the attention of her warriors following them like heat at her back — not challenge, not disapproval. Simply the recognition that their ranking warrior had found a tool that had not broken, and had chosen to keep it close for another cycle.

She did not look at him again until they reached the junction that led toward the human command section. Then she stopped and turned, forcing him to look up the way she preferred.

“You will speak when spoken to,” she said, voice low enough that only he would hear. “You will not explain what occurred. Among my people, explanation is weakness. Presence is enough.”

[Chris Smith @HeatandInk]

@EbonWaifu It's good work.

[Chris Smith @HeatandInk]

@Skyebrows I like it.

[Chris Smith @HeatandInk]

Downtime:
A simple quiet moment. https://t.co/ks5X01RTZC

[Chris Smith @HeatandInk]

1/
The battle was over.

Smoke still rose from the plains beyond the crystal walls. Inside the observation bay the air was cooler, quieter. The door sealed with a soft magnetic click.
She was still in most of her armor.

[Chris Smith @HeatandInk]

@uwan_01 thanks.

[Chris Smith @HeatandInk]

@TooonyNSFW This is interesting.

[Chris Smith @HeatandInk]

Welcome.
I write serials, flash fiction, and longer spicy stories.
You’ll find short, self-contained pieces here, plus ongoing chapters that build over time.
New work drops regularly.
If you like heat with a bit of story, you’re in the right place.
Start with the pinned thread.

[Chris Smith @HeatandInk]

@PeakWaifu1 Fact!!!!

[Chris Smith @HeatandInk]

@osclsfr Name

[Chris Smith @HeatandInk]

Read “The Seventh Signature“ by Chris smith on Medium: https://t.co/aMJc08bEfA

[Chris Smith @HeatandInk]

Read “The Last Book Returned“ by Chris smith on Medium: https://t.co/ywYougyMuz

[Chris Smith @HeatandInk]

@raiko_star Yep