#satine with the Exact Same Expressions on their faces

[the-sparkling-diamond-satine]

cannot believe AK is leaving mr!...... gayest nini i have come across to date. no one is doing it like her

[w1ll0wray]

CAREFUL, I BITE! ft. vampire jinx x fem!reader

⊹₊⟡⋆ summary : being a Kiramman meant enduring social events your mother hosted. once the clock hits christmas eve, a dinner party is always held. however, you knew what that signified— disastrous guests— who add a dash of spice to your night.

⊹₊⟡⋆ warnings: sub!jinx x dom!femreader, jinx receiving strap, past enemies, strap usage, pet name (toots), vampire!jinx x vampire!reader, kiramman!reader, caitlyn is ur sister, men or minors dni, slightly nsfw, smut, mention of forced marriage, harsh words, aftercare.

wc. 4.4k

𐙚 note | I’d really appreciate it if you would not only just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. thank you:)

The bats scattered from the treetops, their wings slicing through the thick night air. Inside, the Kiramman household fell into an unnatural silence, servants terrified for their lives. Lifting your head up from your book, you frowned at the scream your mother had just let out. 

You sigh, sliding a book stopper in the page you arrived to, leaving your book on the plush, dark red couch. Walking towards your enraged mother, you placed a hand on her shoulder, “Is there a specific reason as to why—?” 

“—The plates-!” She yelled, pointing at the extravagant tableware exclusively shipped from Japan. You raised a brow, turning to the servants who stood frozen. 

“I don’t see a problem with them.” You traced the intricate details with manicured nails. Your mother, however, groaned in irritation, “I specifically asked for the traditional Kiramman ones!” She whined, facing the servants, instructing them to replace the current ones. 

Once she got out of the dining room, you rolled your eyes at her panicked attitude. Though, someone seemed to have caught you.

“Making fun of mother, are you?” Your sister called out, appearing out of nowhere as usual. She leaned against the dark marble wall, wearing a white dress shirt and tailored deep navy pants, beating you at dressing up for the special event tonight. 

You waved an annoyed, dismissal hand at her, “Go snog your fiancé.” Turning away to grab your book, you didn’t notice her standing only inch’s away now. Yelping at her sudden teleportation, you pushed her away, “Ugh, Cait!” 

She chuckled, placing her hands on her hips, eyeing your attire, “You’re still in your sleepwear.” Her fingers pinched the satin material of your set, “Isn’t this mine?” 

Slapping her hand away, you giggled, “Took you long enough to notice—seems like Violet has entirely captured your attention.” You hum out, enjoying her dumbfounded expression before rushing through the halls and into your room. 

Knowing your family, they probably told the guests to arrive an hour earlier incase the snow heavily blocked the main roads. Tonight was Christmas Eve, a night in which your family hosts a grand dinner and invites all their business partners. For you, you only tolerated it because mother always promised to spoil you with gifts afterwards. 

Rapidly changing out of your daywear, you slid into your flowy gown. It was a midnight blue, a corset sitting snug around your waist decorated heavily with intricate black lace and designs. Along with it, the dress exposed your shoulders until the low sleeves hugged your forearms. Humming a tune and putting on a pendant, you heard guests flooding the living rooms downstairs. 

“Great.” You sarcastically muttered, unclasping the lid of your burgundy lipstick, coating your lips with it. After making sure you looked appealing to the public and Kiramman name, you slid into the different living rooms. 

Greeted by numerous guests, you slap on a smile and pretend to thank them for coming. In the corner of your eye, you noticed Caitlyn doing the exact same, but a slightly shorter, pink-haired woman right beside her. 

You smiled at how adorable they looked together, remembering when your mother had caught Vi in Cait’s bed after last years dinner. To be fair, Vi did come from a wealthy, vampiric background, her father owned the mines containing all the beautiful gems.  So truth to be told, your parents had let her join the family. 

Sneakily escaping the crowd, you slid into another living room, where your father was. Jumping in surprise, you let out a small apology. Not even glancing at who he was speaking to, you tried to get out—but your name falling from his lips force you to stay put. 

Slowly turning back to him, you finally realize who stood beside him. Two men in traditional, formal attire, met your eyes. One, you recognized as Vander. The other..had a scar on one side of his face. 

Father gently took your hand in his, pulling you beside him, “This is my youngest.” He introduced you, patting your back when you slightly bow your head. Vander smiles warm-heartedly, “It’s nice to finally meet you, sweetheart.” 

He then turns his head to look for someone, “Claggor— Come here!” You tried not to let your smile slip as a boy a bit older approached. Vander had his hand on his son’s shoulder, “This is Claggor—my oldest. The rest of them are scattered around the house somewhere.” He joked, chuckling at his own joke, but you laughed along. 

You glance at Silco, who seemed to be studying you, skepticism evident in his gaze. Feeling a bit out of place, you dismiss yourself and enter the other living room reserved for the younger guests. 

Immediately spotting all your cousins sitting at a corner in the room, you didn’t peer to the left to even notice who played at the pool table. 

Halfway through reaching your cousins, a loud cheer and a familiar raspy voice prompt you to snap your head to the left. 

“Score! Ekko you suck ass at this—might s’well just quit.” Anyone would recognize the owner of the voice.

The one and only—

“Oh my god, toots!” Her arm wraps around your shoulder, playfully forcing you into a hug where you’re mostly squished. Groaning at the lack of oxygen, you pull away, squinting your eyes at her, “Stop calling me that.” 

She rolls her eyes, her fingers messing up your hairdo, causing you to push her off in pure frustration, “We haven’t seen each other in a year!” Jinx eyes your attire for a split second before walking back to the pool table, where Ekko, Vi and Caitlyn played. 

“Jinx, stop annoying her.” Ekko whispered as you drew near, inspecting her dress shirt and dark pants. Jinx only graced you with a quick glance, turning her attention to picking the stick back up to play.  Crossing your arms, you grew bored of watching them fight at who was better, and made your way over to your cousins. 

Big mistake.

The minute you sat down with them, all they could chat about was how expensive their next shopping item would be. In addition, the cousin you tolerated the most, suddenly whispered vile words to you, “Jinx is kinda cute.” She giggled, checking the blue-haired girl lean her body into the table, creepily focused on shooting the ball. 

You didn’t know why, but that comment of hers made you instantly shoot back, “She’s far from who you think she is.” 

You dozed off on Jinx’s face as an old memory emerged from the dead.

Flashback:

Last year on Christmas Eve.

Jinx sits alongside you at the dinner table, busy goofing around with her siblings. You only resorted to cutting up the food on your plate, your back growing numb from how straight you sat on the chair. Your mother’s presence shooting daggers at your back, silently telling you to act proper. Peering up at Caitlyn, you envied how courageous she was, breaking some rules mother had put out. 

She was definitely into Violet, you thought, as she continued intensely staring at Vi’s lips instead of her eyes. Letting out a sigh of boredom, you glanced at the girl beside you, her fingers acting out the scene she was explaining. Though, Mylo caught you staring, a mischievous grin forming on his lips.

“Yo, you ever got with someone?” He asks out of nowhere, forcing you out of your little bubble. Your heart leaped in your chest, everyone on the table turning quiet as they awaited your answer. Fidgeting with the satin fabric of your gown, you felt a blush creep up your face, “Uhm— I haven’t yet.” 

Jinx chuckled, leaning back in her seat, her gaze on you, “I can’t imagine you in a relationship.” 

You frowned, silently hurt by that statement, “What’s that supposed to mean?” Your tone came out harsher then intended, causing Caitlyn’s brows to shoot up in surprise. Jinx stayed relaxed, shrugging her shoulders, “I don’t see you in a relationship with anyone.” 

Her eyes bore into yours, but you rapidly looked away when tears started to form in the corner of your eyes. You stared down at the pattern of your gown, hoping someone would just cut in and pretended this never happened. Clenching your fists, you held back the tears, narrowing your eyes at the food laying untouched on your plate. 

Afterwards, Jinx finally continued her human-hunting storytelling with her siblings, as if she hadn’t just insulted you. Feeling a tear about to drop, you swiftly wiped it away, throat clogging up. As if on cue, your eyes blurred from the water gathering, leading to Caitlyn and Vi noticing. 

“Hey, you good?” Vi lowly questioned, earning an elbow in the gut from Cait. Trying your best to smile, you nodded, 

“Perfect.” 

That night, you silently cried into your pillow, wishing you’d never gone to the dinner. 

Flashback end. 

Blinking away those rough memories, you darted your gaze at Jinx’s body fully arched forward on the pool table as she aimed. To be fair, your cousin was right about her being cute in a way. 

“I’m sure she’d like me.” Your cousin twirled a hair, fawning over the blue-haired girl.  Rolling your eyes, you got up and made your way towards Jinx. 

Regretfully, once your hand touched her forearm and she glanced at you, stunned, your mother barged in, “Dinner is ready!” 

Your corset was stabbing your front.

Unconsciously sitting down in front of Jinx and in between Claggor and Ekko, you felt trapped. Your mother had organized three dinner tables, you ended up on the ‘kids’ table again. Once the food was served, you sensed your stomach growling, the pomegranate juice you drank 2 hours ago not helping. As you lifted your hand to pick up the knife, your father’s fork gently tapping on a glass from another table caught everyone’s attention. 

“Excuse me, everyone!” He cleared his throat, raising his glass up as everyone quieted down. He then smiled, “I’d like to thank you all for attending our Christmas Eve dinner again—“ He then started explaining how special it meant to him. 

You started dozing off into another world, until you heard his next words, “I’m also glad to announce that i’ll be accepting marriage proposals for my youngest daughter!” He glanced at you, not noticing your eyes silently telling him to shut up. 

Feeling everyone’s intensive stare, you instantly shot up from your seat, ignoring your mothers voice as you stormed out the dining room. Fury filled within as you ran up the stairs, holding up your dress and heels clacking against the carpet. 

Heavily breathing, you slammed your bedroom door shut, grabbing the first thing you saw—a vase filled with velvet roses and shattering it against the carpeted floor. Letting out a frustrated scream, you huffed and laid on your bed, frowning up at the ceiling filled with carved designs. 

Few minutes passed and startlingly, a knock is heard from the other side of your door. Scoffing, you sat up, “Go away!” You cry out, crossing your arms at their absurd interruption of your thoughts. 

Another knock is heard, prompting you to groan, flicking your hair back before stomping towards the door, it goes flying open. 

Your scowl is replaced by a bewildering gaze at the sight of Jinx waiting outside your door. 

“what on earth are you doing h—?” 

She cuts you off,

“—what on earth are you doing here?” Jinx imitates your British accent, shoving your shoulder with hers as she walks into your room, “Caitlyn and Vi forced me to come fetch you.” She continues to observe  the room, stopping at your vanity. Closing the door, you stopped beside her, puzzled by her behavior. 

“You don’t have to—“ 

She turns around, leaning her face into yours in a flash, only a couple of centimeters away, “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Her rose-hued eyes entrancing you, “..You should’ve told me.” 

Incapable of finding your words, you resorted to stepping back, holding your hands up, “I got over it. I’m fine now.” Jinx shook her head, her arms behind her back as she continuing stepping closer. 

She tilted her head to the side, a lazy smile forming, her pointy fangs coming into view, “Don’t lie to me, toots.” Her tone clearly holding a hint of manipulation or…threatening you. You raised a brow, but the memories of what happened just now came rushing back. 

“It doesn’t matter—you were right,” You huffed out, palms clenching and avoiding Jinx’s piercing stare, “My father is going to force me into a marriage with a man who can offer enough money and—“ You felt tears starting to spill and sobs starting to escape. You felt defeated, knowing that you were only a pawn in your fathers games.

Jinx froze up but then guided you to the end of the bed, sitting you down with her, removing your palms from shielding your tear-stained face, “Don’t cry, toots. You’re ruining your pretty makeup.” She wiped away the mascara stains, her soft touch led to you calming down. Sniffling, you glanced at the shattered glass on the floor. 

Returning your attention to Jinx, you felt depressed, “Why does Cait get to marry the woman she adores?” You didn’t want to seem jealous. You were truly happy for your older sister, but knowing she gets to marry the love of her life made you think it was unfair. Jinx only shrugs, rolling her eyes, “I don’t know what she finds attractive in my sister.” 

Her comment prompts you to let out a laugh, “At least she’s kind.” Jinx scrunched up her nose, “And i’m not?” She leaned into your face, large innocent-looking eyes peering at you. 

Glancing away from her, you pressed your lips together, “From experience, you’re not particularly nice.” Jinx chuckles, nudging my shoulder, “But toots, I only ever said that because I didn’t want you in a relationship.” 

Snapping your head towards her, you scoff, “Are you serious?—“ 

She nods, laying on your bed with her elbows holding her up.

“And plus, it’s not like your father won’t accept a woman if she ever…” Jinx trailed off, eyes darting up to yours, as if caught like a deer in headlights. Knitting your brows together, you twist your upper body to lean over her, noticing her shoulders tense up, “Jinx, don’t tell me you’ve got a crush—“ 

The door slams open behind you, the presence of Caitlyn and Vi gracing you both. Whirling around, you scowl at their interruption, “Did you forget how to knock?” Vi acknowledged you for a split second before finding Jinx, still manspreading her legs on the edge of your bed. 

“Jinx—Silco is still waiting for his wine!” Vi tugged her up, confusingly staring at the room, “How’d you end up here instead?” She whispered, not letting Jinx respond, rushing her out. Caitlyn immediately closed the door, wrapping her arms around you, “I’m so sorry about father.” She mumbled into your hair, soothing the strands, “I spoke to mother— she’ll fix everything.” You knew your father wouldn’t listen, but you answered with nothing more than a nod. 

Caitlyn successfully convinced you to head back downstairs, sneaking in some roasted potatoes and other side dishes into the living room. She sat with you, whispering about how ridiculous their cousins looked with tacky jewelry. Soon, the dinner was over and some guests had already taken their leave, As a result, the remaining guests were primarily close family, Vi’s included. 

Because of a less crowd, mother opened up the ballroom, forcing younger people to start dancing along the music the musicians created. Dodging your mother, you watched your sister teach Vi the foot work, giggling when Vi failed miserably. 

“Jinx— Behave.” A rough tone cut from behind, compelling you to spin around. There stood Silco, telling Jinx off. She didn’t seem bothered, opting on playing with her braid. The girl looked bored. 

Glancing at your father— seated close to the dance floor and speaking to partners, an idea popped in your head. Grinning, you pushed through your cousins, reaching the duo. 

“Sorry, could I borrow Jinx for a minute?” You gently asked Silco, already taking Jinx’s hand in yours. Overlooking Jinx’s speechless expression, you pulled her alongside you till the dance floor. You swiftly get into position, hand on her shoulder—the other intertwined with her hand. Jinx grins teasingly, “Desperate for a dance, toots?” Compared to her sister, Jinx knew how to waltz, her steps perfectly matching yours. After twirling you around, you were met with her face again, chest colliding with hers, “I don’t want my father introducing me to potential candidates.” You whispered in her ear, wanting your father to notice the intimate exchange. 

Jinx only flashes a cunning smile, hand resting on your waist, “Geez— I can already imagine those old men lining up.” She jokes, leading to you grumbling under your breath, fingers tightening on the material of her dress shirt. Noticing the anxious atmosphere, Jinx pulls you into her, moving you both away from the dance floor, face nuzzling to the side of your face, “How about a little distraction?” She hummed out.

Puzzled by her suggestion, you shrugged and spotted your father watching, prodding you to dart your gaze back on Jinx. Resting your palm on her collarbone, you tilted your head, “Careful, I bite.” You didn’t intend to come across as flirtatious, but Jinx was already wickedly grinning.

To your surprise, she pushes you against the wall, her head dipping to meet your lips in a lustful kiss. Eyes fluttering shut, your hands instinctively rise to tangle in her hair , yanking her closer. Her chilled palms trail up your back, leaving goosebumps. Feeling a presence approach you both, you snatched Jinx’s hand without glancing at the person and slid out the ballroom. 

Jinx giggled, still being led by you to the upper floor. Once you closed your bedroom door shut, you grasped the back of Jinx’s head, slamming your lips against hers. She let out a barely audible moan, stepping back till her leg touched the edge of your bed. Sending you a look, you nodded and pushed her down, attacking her neck. Jinx tried to silence her noises, gripping your hair as you sucked on her skin. 

Your love bites contrasted against the pale skin, little bruises forming on each side of her neck. Pulling away, you bend down to untie her boots, taking them off. Jinx had a star struck visage, gulping when you began unzipping her pants. Not letting her help you, you unbuttoned her dress shirt, sliding it off of her. Jinx was left in her undergarments, her chest completely exposed to you. 

You didn’t waste any time in moving her to the center of the bed, straddling her lap as you took off your corset and slowly pulled up your gown, revealing the royal blue lingerie. Jinx sucked in a breath at the sight of your body, cold palms instantly palming your breasts. Letting her massage your chest, you leaned down to lick her nipple. Eliciting a wince out of her, Jinx’s hands move to your forearms, legs naturally curving upwards, knees nudging your side. Continuing your assault on her nipples, she whined beneath you, chest rising. 

“..toots, I didn’t expect this!” She cried out, whimpering right after, nails scratching your back. Smiling against her sore nipple, you palmed her breast, kissing up her chest until you reach her lips. Engulfing her in a deep kiss, her tongue slid past your lips, prompting you to moan into her. Your hand trails downward—to her upper thigh, squeezing her plush muscle. Biting her lip, Jinx observed as you position yourself below her hips. Grabbing her legs, she squirmed when you spread them apart, exposing her further. 

To her dismay, you kissed the inside of her thighs, not giving her the satisfaction of getting what she wants. A couple of minutes passed, fueling her impatience till she nudged your face with the same leg you currently attended to, “Ugh— c’mon..” 

Displeased with her recklessness, you wrapped your arms under her thighs, forcing them open, “This is what you asked for.” You warned before ripping her panties apart and lowering your head, tongue darting out to deliver a slow, long lick up her pussy.  Gasping, Jinx bucked her hips, running her fingers through your hair, demanding more. You then sucked, your lips hugging her sweet cunt, spotting the blue-haired girl roll her eyes back from the ecstasy. 

Your tongue licked in a circular motion, nose nudging her clit as you forcefully kept your lips attached. Her back arched, a hand gripping the expensive sheets whilst crying out pleas for a release. Chuckling against her pussy, you watched in amusement as her thighs wrapped around your head, struggling to contain her pleasured murmurs, head tilting back to display her bruise covered neck. 

“I can’t— I can’t—!“ She cries out, lower body twitching with the way you edged her clit with kisses. Letting out a groan, she huffed in exasperation when you withdrew from her, “..ugh—you’re so annoying.” She whined out, legs dangling on the bed and curiously watching when you stood up, sliding off the lingerie to unveil yourself. Her lips curled into a grin, shamelessly staring when you opened a drawer, pulling out a strap. 

As you crawled back on the bed, Jinx chuckled, “We’re you plannin’ on using that on me?” She eyed the strap and peeked up at you hovering over. You smiled, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek, 

Noticing her eyes dart back at the strap, you licked her earlobe, “….don’t tell me you’re nervous.” She avoided your gaze, looking to the side. 

She rolled her eyes, scoffing, “As if.” She mumbled, sucking in a breath when you spread her legs. You hummed, positioning yourself so that the strap aligned with her center. 

“Be as loud as you want— the walls are sound proof.” You bent down, palms resting on the pillow Jinx’s head laid on. Seeing the way she stared up at you, her eyes revealing a hint of submission, you fold instantly. Her hands come up to rest on your shoulders, a sly grin spreading across her face, “I’m all yours, toots.” 

Her words prompt you to sit up, palm on her lower stomach as you aligned the strap and slowly slid it in. Jinx gasps, hand gripping your wrist. Watching as the length of the strap entered Jinx, you lowered yourself, letting her wrap her legs around your hips. Leaning into her head, you whispered, “This is for embarrassing me last year.” 

In a split second, you pulled the strap halfway out before slamming back into her, causing her to cry out, “Fuck—! I told you—” She’s cut off by her own whimper. 

Continuing your rough actions of pulling out and ramming into her, Jinx didn’t realize how loud she was, her blissful gasps echoing around the room. 

Little did she know, you lied straight to her face. The room was nowhere near soundproof. 

Enjoying the sound of her pleasured groans, you forced her leg up to rest on your shoulder, spreading her further and letting you reach a sensitive spot. Squeezing her soft thighs, your lips pepper her pale, plush skin with wet kisses.

Flinching at the new sensation, Jinx grasps the sheets beneath her as you plunged into her restlessly, “Shit— I’m gonna—“ Her back arches as you sped up, an extremely loud moan escaping her. 

You chuckled as she pled for you to not stop and edge her, muttering curses as she nearly reached her limit. Finally, with a whine and her eyes squeezing shut, the string snapped. 

Observing her chest rise and fall rhythmically, you rubbed the soft skin of her lower stomach, gently pulling out. She lets out heaved breaths, the back of her hand coming up to press against her eyes, “That was…” She trailed off, still out of breath. 

“I’ll go get you towel.” You climbed out the bed, heading to your bathroom and quickly crawling back with a wet towel. As Jinx sat up against the headboard, you untied the bed drapes, hiding yourselves with the thick dark curtains. The blue-haired girl opened up her legs, inspecting the way you sat right in front of her, head bent down to clean her up. Pressing the wet towel against her, she twitched, but didn’t say a word. Humming a calming tune, you resumed to clean her, wincing along with her when you accidentally wiped too hard. 

“Hey, toots.” She whispered above you, prompting you to look up, raising a brow.

She smugly smiled, leaning in, “…wanna get married?” 

extra

The moment she asked, you reluctantly answered, “I would..but my father decides everything.” Jinx pursed her lips, but nodded, letting you continue paying attention to wiping her clean. After that, you checked the time and gasped at the numbers indicating the sunrise. It didn’t change much, you were all used to sleeping in the day and waking up at night. 

Realizing how exhausted Jinx was, you let her stay in your room—her whole family in guests rooms across the halls. You also noticed how often she woke up, as if snapping out of a nightmare. Pulling her closer, you let her snuggle into you, her head resting on your chest. 

Though, when you woke up, it’s as if the whole bed was turned upside down. Some covers slid off the bed, pillows scattered everywhere. Jinx however, changed positions and slept on her stomach, arms wrapped under a pillow and one leg curved upwards. 

She looked so beautiful, you thought, shamelessly glancing at her chest and toned arms. Her face had, for once, a relaxed expression. But you knew better, and opted to gently waking her up for a shower. Your mother would definitely come up to wake you up in a bit for a grand breakfast with all the guests that slept over. 

Fighting Jinx to wake up was hard, she’d turn away from you, grumbling under her breath about needing a couple of minutes. You tried everything, until you had nothing left but to attack her with kisses. Turning her onto her back, you crawled to hover over her, nuzzling your head in the crook of her neck. Once your lips sucked on a spot, she sat up, pushing you off, “I’m up..!” 

Guiding her to the bathroom was worse, her legs were sore, forcing you to hold her up and help her into the warm bath. Bathing together was definitely another level of comfortability.

Let’s just say, that when you both entered the living room, with Jinx limping all over the place, everyone had figured out the story behind the pleasured noises coming out of your room. 

creds to whoever made the banners. thank you for reading! :) reblogs r heavily appreciated

[vampirq]

saw the cait masterlist was a tad empty.. could i request cait using strap on virgin!reader for the first time and making her squirt??

make a mess for me, love.

caitlyn kiramann x virgin ! reader . strapping (r!receiving) . use of ‘mommy’ . strap is referred to as ‘cock’

“oh, what the fuck is that.”

your appalled expression and vulgar words elicits a giggle from caitlyn. you were referring to the deep blue phallic object resting on her bed. from your standpoint, you could see veins running up and down the sides, along with the slight curve plus the unfamiliar mushroom tip.

“it’s called a dildo, darling, or in this case, a strap.” caitlyn answers, taking your hand in hers and guiding you towards the bed.

“cait— baby, i can’t take that. that’s at least like what, 9 inches?”

“6.5 to be exact.”

“same thing, still big, still probably going to rip me open.”

she takes a step behind you, wrapping her long, slender arms around waist. you melt into her touch, tilting your head to give her access. she takes the bait and peppers loving kisses all over your neck. “i’ll be nice and gentle with you sweetheart. let mommy take care of you, mhm?”

you hesitate before responding. you know caitlyn wouldn’t put you through any thing you couldn’t handle. you also knew if you didn’t want this you could just say no and she’ll back off. but a part of you wanted the challenge.

you wanted to prove that you could take it, and hell, you’d be lying if the thought of her thrusting in and out of you didn’t turn you on. it takes you a moment to decide, your mind shifting between the lewd object, the way her hands tease at your waistband, her sweet voice whispering in your ear until you finally give in.

“okay, we can try it.”

needless to say you were absolutely loving it.

“oh, god, cait, y-you’re so deep.” your moans echo throughout the room, pushing your hips to meet hers.

“i know, angel. can see myself on your stomach.” she traces the bulge on your lower tummy, then applies just a bit of pressure on it with her hand. another loud whine leaves your lips, and she just smirks. “you sound so good, making a mess all over my cock.”

you give her a weak nod, your body not allowing you to do anything else but grip onto the satin sheets. your mind grows dizzy as she hits your g-spot with every thrust. it’s intoxicating, you can’t get enough, but there’s something else you need.

clearly, you’re unsure of what it is, and the unforgiving pace of her thrusts isn’t helping you think either. you don’t know how to tell her, so you settle for her name, well, you try to.

“c-cait, i, need, need more, please.”

“yeah? tell me, baby, let me help you.”

“d-don’t know, can’t think— oh,” your words are cut short with a sharp inhale. her slender fingers wrap around to work steady circles on your clit, making you see stars.

“this what you needed, dear? mommy’s been neglecting this poor clit for too long, hm?” she coos, keeping her voice sweet and alluring. you give her another weak nod, followed by a string of ‘yes, yes, yes.’

her hand finds the curve of your back and pushes it down, but she keeps your hips perched up. the new angle makes her tip hit your g-spot perfectly. you could cum any minute now, but something didn’t feel right. she notices how your muscles start to tense and your grip on the sheets tighten. that was something you never did and it made her panic, in fear she was hurting you or doing it wrong.

her pace slows, no longer slamming into you—just letting the tip slide in and out. she alleviates the pressure on your clit, moving her fingers in slower, lighter circles. “you okay? talk to me, sweetheart.”

“close, mommy. really, really close, but i think i have to pee.”

she lets out an airy chuckle of relief, reaching her hand up to cradle your face. “you’re not gonna pee, just let it out. cum for me, love.”

it only takes a few more strokes before you’re making a mess all over her, soaking the sheets beneath you. a wave of euphoria washes over you, barely registering caitlyn’s sweet words trying to lull you back to earth.

she pulls out of you and removes the harness from her hips, immediately wrapping you in her embrace. “you did so good, darling. took my cock so, so well, just like i knew you would.” she whispers, her lips grazing the top of your ear.

it doesn’t take you long to fall into a deep state of slumber, the last thing being on your mind is cait and her loving voice.

[sky-is-the-limit]

(+18/MDNI/afab y/n)

(P.s I'm not a writer, just sharing my filthy thoughts about this man) Writers feel free to get inspired from the idea!

Okay, I get how most people say that Price would have a praise kink, I see the vision, I get it but I feel like that would be more outside the bedroom or in a more emotional/intimate situation. Generally? Corruption kink all the way, degradation and all. (I saw someone else talking about it and if you see this, I'm glad we share the same braincell)

It'd start with you accidentally calling him Captain or sir (especially if you have nothing to do with his line of work) while teasing him about something, rolling your eyes while stressing his title full of sarcasm. You know damn well, if there's a word that comes to mind every time this man steps into a room, it's authority.

So first time it happened, he'd demand you say it again so he can hear it from your lips, to make sure he heard that right while cornering you against the kitchen counter. If a look could make you foreseen how the rest of the night would unfold, it would be the one in his eyes while you repeat 'Captain' in a seductive tone, almost provocatice in a way when you realise how turned on he is by one single word.

Lips parted, pupils blown as if he had just calmed down from a third orgasm, all because you called him a word he hears a hundred times, every day, years now.

"I had an exhausting day at work and all I wanted was to come home and relax." He's used to commanding so many soldiers, receiving respect even from his superiors and yet here you are, with your pretty eyes, barely clothed and many years younger, teasing him with a smirk that's pressing all his buttons.

He thinks it's cute, really, how you act like you're gonna get away with it because he knows damn well a part of you is doing it on purpose. How you always stare at him like a starved woman when he's putting on his military uniform every morning before he gets to base, how you find every excuse to visit him in his office, just to watch him be that. Be the Captain who orders people around, the one who's in control.

"And you decided to be a disrespectful little brat, hm?" He leans in closer, barely an inch away from your face, his intense stare never breaking eye contact. The dominant tone in his voice sending a shiver down your spine whilst you unsuccessfully try your best to appear composed, a smirk forming on your lips before you turn your gaze out the window. Bad idea? Or the best one you had in a while?

"Answer me. Was that your intention?" Price demands, placing two fingers under your jaw, a thumb on your bottom lip as he lifts your head up so you can look into his eyes.

"Yes." You whisper sweetly, putting on an innocent facade that would fool no one, especially him. You know exactly what he wants from you, what he wants to hear. Every word coming out of your mouth calculated to get the exact reaction you've been craving. You're proven right as you watch his bottom lip twitch at your simple, incomplete answer.

He seems fed up, annoyed with your disrespect but before you get to hear his next 'command', he stops before it even begins. You thought you could outsmart him, get a reaction out of him, how cute.

The smirk you had on your face, slowly dropping from your lips as it forms onto his, tilting his head to the side as if he's accepting an unspoken challenge you bet with him the second you called him by his title. His strong, defined arms drop from the counter where he had you trapped, crossing them over his chest as he takes two steps back.

"Then you get nothing." He announces nonchalant, leaning back against the table comfortably as you try to process what he just said. The expression on his face showing how much he's enjoying the surprised look on your face, watching your plan backfire and him not reciprocating your little game. It's torture, really.

You can already feel your black, satin panties soaking up the reaction happening from just his voice, your heart beating so fast like it's the end of the night when it hasn't even started yet. And so your plan comes down crushing on you as your mouth runs faster than your brain can even try to catch up when a whiney, pathetic "Please, Captain" escapes your mouth.

Yeah, that's exactly what he wanted to hear. If you could capture the look on his face right now, you could use it as comfort between the sheets when he's away and you have to do all the work yourself.

"You have to make it up to me, don't you think?" Price mumbles quietly, like every filthy scenario he can think of, is playing right in front of him and takes two steps closer to you, your skin burning with anticipation. Gulping down all the saliva that gathered in your mouth, you nod shyly before taking a deep breath. The sight of you must be truly pathetic right now but you couldn't care less.

"Get down on your knees for me." His command sends your body into a spiral, your brain can't even bother with working on something to say as your knees weakly give in, like every nerve in you was waiting for this. You don't even process how fast you drop down in front of him, the only thing bringing you back to reality is his deep chuckle, tone clearly mocking your eagerness as you slide your hands up to his thighs. Oh the sight must be really-

"Pathetic." Your eyes mesmerised, following the motion of his right hand as it grabs the buckle of his belt, your mouth already parting like you're waiting desperately to be fed. The sound of it being undone like music to your ears. Timidly, you turn your gaze back to his face, the slight smirk never leaving his lips as he looks down at you, his index finger caressing your bottom lip, softly.

"Let's see if that pretty little mouth of yours can still be disrespectful after I fuck into it."

[pynkricee]

Blood In Your Hands Part 2

🤍The ChoGo Love Story 🤍

After hiding her identity to a strange man named Choso Kamo, KyiGo finally started to realize how important Choso is becoming in her life. The love and connection they start to share will determine if her life is worth sacrificing for him.

Art by AliyahArtss on Instagram 🤍

After about a fifteen minute walk, this Cayla finally led me back to her home. I was surprised as I walked in by the home, which was a mix between modern and cozy with an older-style vibe to it. As I walked through the living room area, my eyes seemed to dart around everything. I couldn't help it. I was curious.

After taking our shoes off and placing them by the door, she decided to lead me upstairs to show me her room. Which was a cozy yet somewhat messy space that seemed to reflect her personality. I traced my hands against the curved wallpaper that was placed smoothly on the walls as we walked to the room next to hers. It was a spare room, with a small, yet comfortable looking bed that could fit two people. It was laced with satin black sheets and black curtains that covered the windows. “This is where you'll be sleeping tonight. If that's okay with you..” she said to me in a low tone, as she opened the door wider for me to get a better view.

I walked into the room reviewing every inch of it before I turned to her and nodded quietly. It was a small space, but I had to admit it looked comfortable and warm. A bit of a contrast to the overall dark feel of the house.

As I looked over to her, I was almost shocked by how much trust you were placing in me to be here with you. I was a dangerous person, but only I knew that and even if she noticed that about me, especially by the smell of blood she sniffed on me earlier, it didn't phase her.

“Thank you for trusting me.. I promise.. nothing bad will happen.” I whispered to you as I looked down at the floor, almost in disbelief that you still trusted me like this.

She giggled slightly at my remark. “I didn't think anything bad ‘Would’ happen. I was just being a nice person and helping someone who needed it.”

I nodded as I could feel my expression on my face softening a little. “I have a question for you.. if you don't mind..”

I notice her eyebrow lift as if I didn't ask enough questions already. “Sure.. what is it?”

At this exact moment.. I was hella nervous. I ended up shifting my weight a little bit before speaking.

“If you don't mind, why are you letting me stay with you..? I asked, looking at her with genuine curiosity.

“Like I said before… I saw someone who really needed it. I saw a man who needed somebody. I mean.. what else was I supposed to do?” I could see the look on her face start to turn into pure guilt by what would have happened if she had just left me at the park. That was the last thing I wanted her to feel. But I could feel my eyes widen and my chest flutter at the same time. Even If she didn't spell out exactly what she meant, I caught her drift.

Without saying anything more to her, I stepped forward and gently placed both hands on her cheeks. I then leaned my head forward and slowly brushed my lips against hers. This time I noticed her eyes close, as the kiss was gentle and soft. I wanted to show how appreciative I was of you and this was the only way I could think of doing it.

I opened my eyes to notice hers were still closed, as they then slowly began to open.

She was the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. I felt like this moment was literally going in slow motion as I pulled my face from her. Her dark skin with a light hue. Her beautiful thick lips that felt like the most gentle pillows you could ever lay your head over. And there was something dark about her aura that drew me into her. I couldn't quite seem to pull myself away, nor did I want to.

I noticed her deep brown eyes flutter as she stared at me in mine. “I'm sorry.. Cayla.. it's just.. I couldn't help myself…” I whispered softly as my thumb started to caress her right cheek. In that split second, she closed her eyes again, leaning in kissing me back softly. I could feel my breath being to hitch in my chest as my eyes stayed open as I returned the kiss.

The kiss was soft and short as she swiftly broke it and looked back up at me. I couldn't help but smile as I pulled back, my gaze and my attention fully on you. I could feel my heart speed up as I let go of your cheeks and stepped back to give you some space. Being cautious not to take this any further than where it was already going.

“What.. was that for?” she whispered, her body language now being more calm as she stood in front of me. Her face was just as red as the shade of lipstick that covered her lips. I could feel my face warm up as you looked directly at me. I had to turn my face away from her to keep my urges from persuading me to go any further.

I quickly crossed my arms and slightly turned my body to the side. “ I.. just …felt that I should show you.. how thankful I am..” I was definitely trying to keep my emotions under control at this point but I could feel that rush that I was having toward you and I still couldn't fully understand why. Why was this happening to me? And with a human? A human woman at that..

“Do you think.. it's strange?”

She then gave me the strangest look as if she wanted to burst out into laughter. I could feel my head leaning back as my lips sneered on the side of my mouth, ready for the disappointment of her answer.

She then let out the cutest laugh, looking me directly in the eyes, placing her hands on her thick hips. “Ha! It is strange. Usually a hand shake would do. You must be drawn to my lips to keep wanting to kiss me the way you do.”

I couldn't help but blush and take another step back again, letting out a small sigh. “I know.. but.. your lips are just so beautiful.” I responded with a slight nervous edge to my voice. Dropping my hands to my sides. At this point, I couldn't keep my emotions under control as I could feel my breathing speed up tremendously.

“Well thank you Choso. I'm going to get some things ready for you to take a shower, okay? You can stay here if you want and make yourself comfortable before I come back.” I nodded as she then finally walked out the room disappearing into the hallway.

I wanted to keep looking at you , but I knew that might be inappropriate. Standing in the room, I turned the light on and closed the bedroom door behind me and sat gently on the bed. I leaned back and took a deep breath as I thought about how beautiful red lips were and the feeling of kissing you. I then threw my head back and looked up at the ceiling.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” I whispered in a low tone to myself. “I'm a death womb, a curse created for the soul purpose of killing and I'm in a woman's house, kissing her… and wanting to do it again..” I then took a deep breath and closed my eyes as I leaned forward, resting my arms over my legs. I opened my eyes and looked down at the floor, really in deep thought about what I was doing.

After a couple minutes passed, you knocked on the door and came in with a few towels and a change of clothes for me. A pair of black sweats and some matching socks. I stood up off the bed as your tiny stature walked over to me. “ Here you go, and you have a shower right over there in the corner. So you know, your own private bathroom.” You said smiling to me. Your smile was contagious. I couldn't help but smile back as I could feel myself blushing, as I received the items out of your hands.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.” I could feel this feeling of just being drawn to you physically, but in a way I never felt before. You seemed so much more than just a female that wanted to help me at a time of need. You were a goddess and I was nothing more than a lowly cruel cursed spirit.

“Come downstairs when you're finished, okay. I'm fixing us some Pho.” She said walking back towards the door to exit the bedroom. Her fingers wrapping around the door frame.

My eyes widened, I was so confused by the offer of food you were willing to give to me. “You're.. making food for ME?” I asked with an expression that was a mix of gratitude, surprise and disbelief. I could feel my voice becoming shaky as I quickly nodded my head. “I-I'll be right down.”

She let out another small giggle that coughed me to almost stand on my toes and sent shivers down my spine. “Yes.. I am. You're hungry aren't you?” She then gave me the purest smile and walked out the room. “Take your time in the shower. If you need anything.. call me.”

I nodded and smiled widely. I was almost surprised that you were showing so much affection and care for me. I've never had anyone show this much appreciation for me at all in all the years I've been on this earth. “I'll take my time..” I said as I heard you begin to walk down the stairs. I placed the essentials I had in my hands next to me as I sat down on the bed for a minute. I threw myself back on the bed again and looked up at the ceiling thinking about what just happened. I felt like this whole situation was a dream. An almost perfect woman who invited me to stay with her after just meeting me. This had to be better than any romantic fantasy that I ever imagined. But in the back of my mind, there was still something about her that I couldn't put my finger on.

I finally took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down as I stood up from the bed and headed over to the bathroom.

After switching on the water, and ensuring the temperature was just right for me, I undressed, placed my clothes on the floor and entered the shower. As I stepped under the spray, I could feel so much stress just wash away from my body as I closed my eyes, letting the hot water run from head to toe. As I stood there, I began to recall everything that had happened today, how I had ran into her, how she brought me home with her, and the kiss you gave back to me. I could feel my heart begin to speed up again with just the thought of you. The way you were caring for me, the way you offered me to stay in your home.

I couldn't be falling for her… I couldn't be. That just doesn't make any sense…

As Choso was taking a shower upstairs, I decided to go ahead and take care of myself downstairs in the spare bathroom I had near the kitchen.

I went ahead and took a decent hot shower that took about ten minutes. I knew by the time I was out he would probably still be under the spray in the upstairs bathroom. I could tell he went through and was going through a lot at the moment and I didn't want to put more on him that he couldn't handle right now.

Once I exited the shower, I threw on some baggy shirt, no bra and some silk pants that flowed when I walked. Even though I had a stranger in the house with me, I still wanted to be comfortable in my own surroundings. But I couldn't help but wonder if he was doing okay.

I was still lost in thought as the hot water ran over my pale skin. The heat and steam was so comforting to the point where I could feel my muscles loosen back up. It felt like pure heaven, and I honestly didn't want it to end.

“Choso.. are you okay in there?”

I immediately snapped out of my trance, realizing that she was standing outside of the door. “I'm fine.. Im.. just taking my time.” I responded over the running water, hoping you couldn't hear past the lie I just told.

“Oh.. okay… I was just checking on you. I'm still here if you need me.” I could hear her footsteps slowly walk away from the door as I let out a sigh as my breath started to shake.

“Ill.. be out soon.” I responded as I tried to remain as casual as possible.

“Okay.. like I said I'm here if you need anything.” I could see your feet finally disappear from underneath the doorway. I let out a sigh of relief as I heard the door close behind you as you left the room. Your presence has such a calming effect on me that it made me nervous in a good way when you were around me. I turned the shower back on and continued to rinse the remaining suds off my body.

After a few minutes, I finally shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. I managed to finally calm myself down even further while I was bathing which was a surprise even to me. Stepping out, it felt like the world was suddenly in an entirely different light, as if I was able to leave my old world of curses and sorcery and just experience the bliss of this exact moment.

This was a moment that I dreamed of for a long time, that I've always wanted for myself. But who knew that it would take someone else to give it to me in return. Someone I didn't expect to come into my life at the most random of all moments. As a curse, I felt like I didn't deserve this at all. I felt like I wasn't worthy of you.

I didn't deserve you…

[skyland2703]

Baby Pacha crashes Javelia’s wedding? Everyone is VERY surprised that Baby Pacha is alive.

Minific, pleeeeeeease?

OH MY— this is SUCH. A. CUTE. IDEA. omg :3

Javi hadn’t expected the “Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace” to end with a screech of terror from someone in the crowd. He’d imagined his wedding day would go fairly normally and without much drama, but boy was he wrong, because the amount of chaos he’d endured since morning, what with Tarrick and Warden Garcia coming almost to blows with each other, Jane’s ice sculpture melting because some dumbass— J-Borg— had placed it right under an airvent, which was regulating the temperature in November, and the melted ice water making about three guests slip and fall and injure their backs before Javi himself had to take a mop and clean up the mess. And that was without knowing that his bride had almost runaway with cold feet and his friends had scanned the entire planet to bring her back…

Amelia looked at him, and he looked back at her, both of their eyebrows raised in confusion, because it seemed like she too had not expected any more obstacles in their wedding, at this point.

The next second, as the couple looked at the crowd seated in front of them, more screams erupted, with people standing up on their seats, flurrying about, as if there was a lizard crawling from under the chairs. It was chaotic at best, and Javi tried to control his laughter, looking at Amelia who seemed to be doing the same, and slowly inched towards him, gripping his hand tightly in hers, squeezing it, as they tried to see what had caused the entire commotion. Then they saw a tiny metallic snout peeking out from under one of the chairs. Followed by a very familiar little head and Javi’s head turned towards Amelia, instinctively, instantly, to gauge her reaction, as if to see that she was indeed seeing what he was seeing. And indeed, Amelia’s lips were also parted WIDE, in a giant ‘o’, as she also turned to look at Javi, a smile escaping onto both of their faces, and their eyes darted back to the little metal dinosaur who was peeking her head out from underneath the chairs, the guests still scurrying away in fright as if there was a lizard beneath their feet.

“BABY PACHA?!” Both of their voices echoed in unison across the wedding hall, and Javi and Amelia, actually dressed in their wedding suit and dress, ran across the hall to catch the little dinosaur.

The baby zord scurried across the floor tiles and Javi and Amelia could see the white satin sheets on top of the chairs flying by the speed. Javi looked at her, she looked back at him, a plan of action passed between their eyes, and seconds later, they split up to catch the zord. Javi crawled under the chairs, and the Zord yeeted away from and towards the opposite direction, and just as she emerged from underneath the chairs, Amelia, in her baby pink wedding dress, stood there with open arms, waiting and caught the little zord right in her arms and scooped her up, and spun her around like she was a little baby bundled up in her arms.

Aiyon, Izzy, Ollie and Fern ran up to Amelia just as Javi crawled back up from under the chairs and flexed his back, a loud cracking sound echoing through the hall that made Izzy grimace and the others laugh.

“Baby Pacha?! What’s she doing here?!” Ollie started, and Amelia looked just as clueless as Javi and the others did. Aiyon straightened his collars and decided to gently place his palm over the baby zord and try reading its mind.

“Hawwww…” he mouthed, then faced their friends, “when Zayto died… sacrificed the Zords… Baby Pacha wasn’t exactly a Zord type of Zord?? She’s a baby. She’s never fought a battle… the Grid didn’t take her.” He said, looking so sad it looked like someone had just kicked a puppy in front of him.

“She’s… an orphan?” Javi said, mirroring the exact same expression Aiyon had, absolute puppy dog eyes.

“I… think so…”

“Where was she all this time?” Izzy questioned, and Aiyon shrugged, “trying to find her way back to us…”

“Oh my grid—“

“OH MY GRID—“

“AIYON DO YOU THINK WE CAN ADOPT HER?!” All faces turned to Ollie who had the brightest expression on his face, and a sappy smile spread over all of their faces, “this was quite a way for her to make an entrance.” Amelia said, sticking her tongue out at Ollie, “if anything, Javi and I should adopt her,” she smirked.

“Noooo” Fern said, sweeping in and stealing the baby zord out of Amelia’s hands, “I’ve always wanted to have a pet Zord! I’m adopting her!”

Suddenly, the baby zord hopped out of Fern’s arms and seconds later, Javi’s voice erupted through the atmosphere, “we should’ve asked who Baby Pacha wanted to live with” and giggles followed as the entire team’s eyes landed at Solon standing at the altar, holding the little zord like a baby and tickling it’s tummy, and they all burst into huge smiles, realising it was decided!

Hesploro if you have an Ao3 lemme know👀

[berrieluv]

Loved doll face honey! Do you think you could do something similar with both James and Lily? Maybe where they both find out of something? Only if you're okay with that

Heeey, I'm so glad you liked it, DollFface Honey has been the hardest thing for me to write because my knowledge of the english language really lacks of sexual words, on the other hand I've never write about fem!character x fem!reader in an explicit way but i'll try, hope I fill the expectations <3

Lily Potter x James Potter x Fem!Reader.

TW. overstimulation? fingering, penetration, threesome, breeding kink, size kink, daddy kink, dirty talk, open marriage, i really don't know what else. pleaaaase leave a comment, you have no idea of how happy they make me :c

The spouses manipulator.

Lily was fine with James sleeping with other people. She was doing it as well, and at that point, so far from monogamy, getting upset would only be hypocrite.

Lily could share her husband, and as far as James is concerned, he could share his wife as well, but there was something about you that felt just wrong to share. Remus knew that, Lily was sure, and even thought Lily was way too smart to know between Remus and you was something going on, he was mature enough to accept Lupin and her sharing the same girl. But when it came to sharing with James, something about it felt not right.

Not because James couldn't touch anyone else besides her, but because with three people tainting you at the time –leaving Sirius out of the picture, because to Sirius' liking, the three adults were far to know about him and you– it was just a short matter of time before you were completely in lost of your innocence.

"Baby, you need to choose. Me or Lily?"

James was standing in front of you, his naked torso in all display and his big muscles flexing with his crossed arms. Lily was pulling up the sleeves of her satin blouse and looking at you with a smile, confident of what your answer would be.

"Both?"

"No, pretty girl. You can't have both" James said, leaning down to you and taking your face with his two big hands "Daddy or mommy?"

You already had too many daddies, one less couldn't hurt.

"Mommy?"

Lily smiles in silence, James looks at her in surprise and slightly offended.

"Baby, you're letting daddy go?" At his words, a pout takes over your facial expression and your eyes start to water. Sure you didn't want to let your daddy James go, so you shake your head. "See? Baby wants daddy" He says, looking at Lily.

"What about mommy, baby?"

"Want' mommy too"

Lily clicks her tongue and comes closer to you, pulling James out of your physical space and kissing your lips.

"What about mommy and daddy help you out, pretty thing?" You look at her in a confused way only to gasp when her hand is making circles on your clit covered with your underwear. "Baby, you're so wet" Lily says, earning a big crying "no" from you, who were taught by James that was an indicator of sickness. "Don't worry, mommy would make it better"

Lily looks at James with challenging eyes, and for him, his wife has never been hotter than in that exact moment, about to fuck a teenager to show him who was better when it came to sex.

Her fingers put aside your panties, quickly making it into you, in response you moan at Lily lack of delicacy. Your eyes get distracted by her hands and you look down, eager to see what she's doing down there with you. At the movement, Lily grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls it, forcing you to look up while her fingers fuck you in amazing ways you thought could never be possible by any other than Remus' cock. Lily wanted your eyes on you, seeing how teary they were getting, loving to see how wrecked you could get by only her fingers.

Her hand gets away from you, owning a cry and an expectant look. In all the calm there possibly can be, Lily takes two of her fingers to her mouth and licks them, patiently, taking her time as if you weren't a full moaning mess in front of her. Her free hand gets on your inner thigh, opening your legs for her to have a better access to you, your underwear is glued to your pussy thanks to your wetness, but it doesn't seem like an impediment for Lily, if so, it serves her right, pulling the fabric of the panties every time so to make you whimper when it slash your needy and wet cunt.

Your moans are music for Lily and James' ears –the last one in full rock hard mood, but sitting straight, only looking at you and planing on how many ways he'll rail you to prove his wife he's a better fucker–. Your hips move back and forth, needing to feel Lily's touch. Your erected nipples making their appearance through the thin fabric of your shirt.

"Awh, are you horny, little thing? Hoe around mommy's soft fingers as much as you please. You look so fucking pretty, almost angelic. Your pretty little pussy being all stretched out around my long fingers"

Lily smiles when she hears your final loud moan, knowing she already made you cum, fingering all of it inside of you again, and taking her fingers to her mouth, licking them "You did so good for mommy, baby girl"

And with that, her face is now rising, getting a little higher than where yours is, lifting up your chin with her fingers making you look at her, she opens your mouth with her thumb and spits.

Now was James turn.

He smiles while walking to you, before he could touch Lily, she walks away and sits on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs ready to see how you take James.

"Don't you worry baby. That was nothing compare to what I have prepare for you"

He grins at you and take your face, kissing your lips and taking your body as if it was a feather.

Now your back is turned to him and your tits bang with the chair back, James loses no time with your underwear and takes it apart. He takes his belt off, the sound itself making your pussy wet again, he takes his time on taking his jeans off and before he could start, he makes sure your position on the table is good to not make you fall.

His cock thrust into you, his big hands are now on your hips and moving them to his, your tits are bouncing and blaming the chair, causing Lily's view to turn on a show.

James slows his movements, knowing it turns you even more when you think he's stopping and then he surprises you by going faster. One thing about james was that –unlike Sirius and Remus– he loved smacking your ass in such a gentle way. He liked the sound the palm of his hand made in contact with your ass and not so much the pain in cold cause in you.

"You're enjoying this, bunny? Do you like daddy's cock fucking you so hard?" He asks with a soft voice, almost romantic. He grabs your arms and lifts your upper body from the chair, making you feel his dick deeper in you. At the feeling of James thick thighs, you tried to rub yourself in them.

Above all of the others, James would have something that drove you absolutely crazy that the other could never have; his strong thighs. A result from many years of exercise and discipline.

At that point, James is doing all the work for you. It was was easy for him to handle you comparing the size difference, your hands hanged on his thighs skin, trying to have a support.

James' hands are quick to grab your shirt, making you lift your arms so he can take it off, and as soon as he takes the clothing off your body leans back again in the chair, his hands trying to get yours yo hold onto something, making your moans grow bigger and louder. His hands keep smacking your ass and as the seconds pass your arms feel weaker.

Your already worked up pussy is begging for James to keep going, clenching around his cock and milking it with every thrust. James is eager to please you as he understands your body language, while your moans seem tired and your little voice is begging him to stop and take it easy, you know your body is asking for something else.

"Daddy, no more"

"No more? But daddy's being so nice to you, baby princess. He's treating your pretty pussy so well and it it's being so nice to me, I can tell she wants this" In the moment you close your eyes, a sign of your tiredness, James quickly grabs your neck, holding your back close to his chest and his lips extremely near to your ears "Pussy's being such a good girl, isn't she" You moan and nod, opening your mouth to say something but being completely shut by the violent entrance of James fingers "But this pretty mouth is being bad" He pouts in a fake way and bites your ear "Such a bratty mouth, baby. Better keep it quiet if you want your pussy to get her reward for being good. Wouldn't be fair if she gets noting, would it?"

You shake your head "Good girl. Show your body who's in charge"

James free hand goes straight to your clit, rubbing circles in it and making your belly tickle. James' thrusts faster as he senses you coming outdone by the sound of your moans, finally his cum is being load in you, completely filling your tight pussy but he keeps his movements, not pretending to stop until you finish.

"What a bad daddy" Lily says. She knows her husband like the palm of her hand, there's no way she couldn't recognize his orgasm face because she has seen it too many times "Comes in you before you can finish. Mommy would never do that, baby"

You look up at her and Lily smiles, taking your chin and letting you suck on her thumb.

"You have been such a good girl, haven't you, princess?" You smile and nod while you feel James cock getting out of you and letting his cum drip from your pussy "Look at you, all used and covered in cum. You, baby, look like the prettiest girl in the world. But mommy's not done with you yet"

Lily's smile is easily the prettiest thing on the word, but Lily's smirk could turn on every single sexual person on earth. She takes your hand in a gentle way and walks to the bed with you.

Lily takes her blouse off, only thing covering her now is her bottom lingerie; "Ride mommy's thigh, baby"

Fuck, James thought; That was his move.

There wasn't a thing on earth Lily wasn't willing to do to win. And when she saw you, hungrily trying to hump on James thick thighs she knew she had to steal it from him.

You quickly obeyed her instructions, but before you could sit, looking at her, Lily turned you the other way around. If she was going to win, James was going to watch you getting ruined by his sweet little flower.

"Tell daddy how it feels, baby"

"S'so'so good" You manage to breath out. James grin grows bigger and Lily sends him a deadly glance when she sees him coming close.

"Don't even think about it"

"What? Baby seems to need daddy's cock, don't you baby"

You innocently nod, your shiny eyes giving away your desperation. James rubs his cock a little, only taking him a few seconds to get it hard again and then he looses no time on thrusting into you.

In the heat of the moment, and being full by jealousy, Lily's hand make its way to your clit, violently rubbing in as he sees James moving your hips back and forth for his cock to go deeper, causing you to also rub yourself faster on Lily's thighs.

There was a few seconds where Lily thought sharing you with his husband couldn't be that bad. But she was far too gone on the dispute to give in.

"You're so desperate for daddy's cock, aren't you? Don't worry darling, when I end you you won't be able to walk. You better start thinking what you'll tell Remus, pathetic whore"

And Lily gives up, knowing it would be funnier to be on James' side.

"You're a filthy little slut for mommy and daddy, aren't you, princess?" You nod moaning "Your only desire is to be bred and filled by mommy's thick cock. Don't you worry baby, daddy's cock makes wonders. Soon you'll be all round and full with his babies"

James lets out a gutural groan, your sweating body in the middle of the both of them, being violently fucked by his cock and being also please by Lily's skilled fingers. You're crying and whimpering, turning him on more.

"Gonna feel you up and breed you right here, baby. On mommy's bed just as she says, just like the little whore you are"

Lily smiles and pulls your hair to have your head resting on her shoulder, you whimper at the lack of her fingers in your clit but as soon as you complain she has her lips on your neck and her hand back on stimulating you.

"What do you think Remus would say of his innocent and pure step-sister being all breed by his best friend's seed. All full of his best friend's husband's cum, hum?" James thrust one time, slow and deep into you, making your insides feel hot, when he pulls out Lily is holding your hips to keep James' cum inside while he looks for something.

"Don't let it out, darling" She says when she sees your pussy clenching and letting a blast of sperm out "Mommy and daddy would get mad if you keep doing that"

"Can't hold it, mommy. S' too much"

You groan in discomfort at James plugging you. "Problem solve, princess"

You better start thinking on what you'll tell Remus.

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

Y/n giving vampy a tour Of her home town: oh and that movie theater parking lot right there is where I gave my first blow job

Vampy: idk how to react to that…but like wanna recreate..?👀

The vampire stands in the empty parking space in question, spinning around once as if inspecting the area, giving the asphalt a few quick taps with the toe of his heeled boot. “This spot here?”

“Yup.”

“This is where you gave up your throat virginity to Gherkin?”

Y/N’s face screws up in secondhand embarrassment at his idiotic quip. “Please never say that again.”

Harry’s nose crinkles in disgust as he glances to his left, where the dumpster of the theater resides a mere four spots away. “You didn’t even have the decency to do it somewhere nice? Or at least somewhere without the stench of stale soda and rotting butter ruining the moment?”

Y/N rolls her eyes grandly, folding her arms across her chest and giving him a flat expression. “We were seventeen, Harry. Formalities are the last thing on a teenager’s mind when it comes to oral.”

“No flower petals on silk bed sheets? No candles and chocolate-covered strawberries?”

His girlfriend scoffs humorlessly, scraping her sneaker against the faded paint that outlines the borders of the large rectangle. “This wasn’t an epic romance, Romeo. We were bored, horny, and desperate.”

“Yeah, I’ll say.” He mumbles, sniffing in posh distaste as he spots an old condom wrapper discarded near the bushes. “You were definitely desperate if you were willing to put your mouth anywhere near that ‘Peter Piper picked a pickled pepper’ incel.”

Y/N purses her lips, swallowing down a loud laugh for the sake of her pride. “It wasn’t my proudest moment, I’ll admit.”

Harry crosses his arms over his sturdy chest, copying her stance as he quirks one of his brows sarcastically. “It was dire, dove. Please tell me he did something nice for your actual first time.”

She fiddles with her sleeve for a moment to stall the truth, releasing a defeated sigh. “…It was on the couch in his basement.”

“Oh, Christ, I’m gagging. I’m gonna vomit. Thank God the dumpster’s right there.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Wait, this is kinda romantic, isn’t it? We’re both gagging in the exact same spot, so many years later, over the exact same reason. That’s an epic romance moment if I’ve ever seen it.”

Y/N giggles freely now, shoving him with her shoulder as he wraps her into his arms, gently kissing the crown of her head as he snickers boyishly in return. She can feel him pressing a smile into her hair, and it makes her cheeks grow comfortingly warm. “Maybe I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

“Why? Because it’s consecrated ground?”

Y/N bumps her forehead against his clavicle, resisting the urge to kick him in the shin. “Because all you’re doing is mocking me for my mistakes.”

“Am I not allowed to? It was a pretty vile mistake, so I figured taking the piss might lighten the load.” Harry’s mouth twitches against her scalp as he gives her torso a cheeky squeeze. “Pun intended.”

“Your dead body’s gonna end up in that trash bin.”

“I mean, you know what they say.” He comments easily, ignoring her threat as he nudges her temple fondly with the tip of his cold nose, his hands coasting down to her backside to perch within the rear pockets of her jeans. “‘The best way to erase a bad memory is to paint over it with a new one.’”

Y/N cranes her head back to level with him, her eyes deadpan as a scowl etches across her cheeks, attitude unamused. “So you made fun of me for getting on my knees here, but now you’re asking me to do it again? How hypocritical.”

Harry suddenly yanks her closer, flushing their fronts together as he discreetly slips one of his legs between both of hers, his thigh pressing up against her center. A tiny gasp escapes her throat at the brazen move, and the attractive arrogance that washes over her boyfriend’s handsome features makes an uncontrollable heat erupt within the area he’s currently teasing. She can tell he notices the hot flush, obvious in the way his smug smirk carves deeper into his dimples.

The immortal leans down until his satin lips are ghosting over the shell of her heated ear, his words so smooth and low, they slither down her spine in the form of a shiver. “Who said anything about you being the one on your knees?”

[wienerbarnes]

Italian Heart

Pairing: Bucky x Italian!MobBoss!Reader

Word Count: 4,867

Warnings: canon level violence, possible inaccurate italian slang lol

A/N: ive been watching a lot of the sopranos lately and i feel like ive never seen a bucky x mob boss reader au (ive only rlly seen em where buckys the mob boss. if there are ones where reader is the mob boss PLS SEND EM TO ME I BEG) a lot of the slang and mob stuff here is from sopranos bc... im not in the fucking mafia so forgive me anyway enjoy :)<3

MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky’s never seen a woman quite like yourself.

Dressed in expensive satin and jewelry that hangs between your breasts, an angry look on your face at the fact you’re sitting before him and Sam in an interrogation room in the tower. Freshly done nails, clean and crisp lipstick, spicy perfume, and an expression of annoyance.

As put together as you look, you don’t look like someone to be fucked with. Which, he supposes is good for a mobster; the Boss of Newark.

Looking at you, though, he’d never thought you to be such a figure of intimidation. While the mafia is still alive, despite how the media tries to deny this, he always pictured an old Italian man that chain smokes cigars. He doesn’t think he’s too far off, to his credit; he can smell the remnants of smoke on you.

“Mind if we make this fast? My cousin’s comin’ for dinner and I was gonna make ziti.” You huff, crossing your legs under the table.

“Sounds delicious. Sorry for dragging you all the way out here.” Sam says, a calm look on his face even though he’s well aware of what you’re capable of.

When hunting down the last traces of the super soldier serum, he never thought Nick Fury himself would suggest getting in touch with you. He didn’t think it was worth the time to question how the two of you knew each other.

Theft. Drugs. Murder. Bribery. The list goes on, and there’s not a single thing that ties you to any of it.

A shrug of your shoulders, “So, what exactly is this about?” You ask.

“What is it that you do for a living?” Sam asks.

“I work in waste management.” You respond, a rehearsed answer.

Not exactly a lie, the environmental facility you manage is one of hundreds of covers used by your crew for your crimes. Environmental facilities, deli shops, strip clubs, auto shops. There isn’t a business in Jersey you aren’t tied to.

“Waste management? Like, garbage disposal?” Bucky asks, knowing exactly what it is you do for work.

You smirk, “Yeah, we dispose of garbage sometimes. What’s that got to do with me being here?”

“It’s to my understanding that you’re in the business of… buying and selling things. You and… the people you hang around got a real knack for it.” Sam tells you.

Bucky holds back a roll of his eyes. More like stealing and selling. Expensive Italian suits, antique watches, cars, electronics, illegal cigars. Who knows what else.

“I don’t know where you heard that… but I’m a popular gal, maybe I know a guy who might know a guy. What are you lookin’ for?” You ask.

You know this game, after being in the mob for so long. After being a part of your own crew for years, your patience and hard work paid off, working your way up to a captain and finally a boss. It didn’t take you long to learn in this business that government officials are jokes. Always wanting to bust my balls and then come crying to my corner for help, it’s a bunch of ugatz.

“Serums.” Bucky finally speaks.

A laugh escapes you, “What, like vitamin C?” You teasingly smirk at him.

His chair makes a loud sound in the small room as he pushes it back harshly and stands, resting his hands on the table in between the two of you. You don’t flinch.

“Enough with the bullshit. Super serums. To create super soldiers. We need to get them before they end up in the wrong hands and make a big ass mess.” He snaps at you, but you don’t seem phased in the slightest. In fact, you seem rather amused.

“You must have a lot of agita with all that anger, Sergeant Barnes.”

He doesn’t hold back this time and rolls his eyes before you speak up again, “Your first name is James, isn’t it? Ain’t that Italian?”

“No, it’s English. Or Scottish. Or Jewish - I don’t know, who cares? Are you gonna help us or not?” Bucky takes his seat again, crossing his thick arms over his broad chest.

“What’s in it for me?” You ask, leaning back in your chair.

“Not being arrested for all the shit we know you’re caught up in.” Sam offers.

You roll your own eyes this time, “I’ll take my chances. Thanks for wasting my time, boys, don’t let it happen again.” You stand, prepared to make your way back to the train station to go back to Jersey.

“Wait,” Sam stops you, “What is it that you want?”

You smile innocently and take your seat again, taking a minute to think before answering, “My little sister’s a big fan of yours. I’m sure she and all her friends would think it’s cool if you showed up to her prom as her date.” You wink at Sam.

Silence fills the room as the men think about your request.

“You’re gonna do it, right?” Bucky looks over at him and sees Sam rubbing the crease in between his eyes. He was expecting you to ask for immunity, protection, money, guns. But after hearing your request, he supposes you have enough of all that stuff anyway.

“Man -” Sam begins to refuse.

“Sam, it’s a fucking school dance in exchange for some of the most powerful and sought after serums on the planet - go to the fucking prom.” He tells him, eyebrows scrunching in confusion as to how he would hesitate on something so simple.

“She’s eighteen, so you won’t have any problems with the media or none of that.” You add, the information not really making Sam feel any better.

“Alright, alright, fine. I’ll go to the dance with your sister if you help us get these serums.”

You smile, happy to have done business with the two men, “What information do ya got for me?”

…

Bucky and Sam wait outside a back room in the facility you own. They passed the garbage trucks parked neatly outside, but could hear your screaming and the smell of Cuban cigars as soon as they entered the building.

She’s with a customer, they were told, by someone in your crew, them meeting Bucky’s expectations for mobsters more than you did. None of them ask any questions, but Bucky and Sam aren’t stupid, they’re sure your crew is aware of what’s going on and know the exact reason they’re there.

“You’re a fuckin’ asshole, you know that? The Bible says, Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit -”

“You listen to me, you take your Bible and your quotations book and shove it up your fat fucking ass! Now get the fuck out of my face!”

Bucky can’t help but scoff listening to you scream at whoever’s inside. Sam elbows him, silently telling him that now isn’t the time to find your work funny, especially not in front of the rest of your crew.

Bucky knows he’s old-fashioned, and while things that were taboo such as body modifications or certain fashion styles don’t phase him anymore, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to hearing a woman talk like that. He doesn’t think he’s ever even heard anybody talk like you do.

Suddenly a man bursts out of the room, huffing and puffing, and you walk slowly behind him, as if to make sure he makes it outside okay.

“Grab his plate for me, will you?” You say not to anyone in particular, voice smooth and calm as if you hadn’t been yelling and threatening that man’s life for the past twenty minutes.

One of the men from your crew follows outside, seemingly to collect the license plate of the man who just left.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to that guy, right?” Sam asks as he and Bucky enter the room, taking a seat in front of the desk you have in there. He knows there’s no point in asking, that you’ll do whatever you want regardless because it’s obvious you’re passionate about receiving respect, but it was worth a shot.

“Is that what you came all the way to Jersey to ask me? Christ, I’m fuckin’ starving, you boys want anything to eat?” You ask, accent heavy as you reach into the side drawer of your desk and pull out what seems to be some kind of meat wrapped in paper.

“Gabagool?” You offer to them, picking out a slice for yourself and placing it in your mouth.

“Gesundheit.” Sam responds.

“It’s pork, you asshole.”

Bucky silently reaches over and picks off a slice of the cured cold cut, putting the meat in his mouth and savoring the flavor. While he can’t stand the way you make a living or the sailor’s mouth you have, he loves Italian food, and actually chose a neighborhood in New York that has plenty of traditional cold cut markets and restaurants to live in in order to fulfill his cravings.

“There’s a big party staged downtown this weekend, we think that’s when the drop is going to happen.” Sam tells you, bringing the focus to their reason for coming here in the first place.

“I’ll send one of my boys.” You reply in between your chews.

“That wasn’t the deal. The deal was you get the serums.” Bucky speaks up.

“Buck, you know how many people want her dead?” Sam tries to reason.

“What the fuck do I have a crew for then? - No, if pretty boy wants me to do it myself, then I will. The same people that want my head are the same fucks who are terrified to be within twenty feet of me in fear they’ll make eye contact. I’m not scared of nothin’.” You say, narrowing your eyes at Bucky.

“What did you guys come here to talk about?” You ask.

Sam looks confused at your expression, “...To go over the plan? Hash out details? So you know how everything’s gonna go?”

“I’ll be fine; I’ve seen The Godfather once or twice,” You tell him, wrapping up the cappo, after Bucky picks off one last slice, and replacing it in the drawer, “Don’t worry Captain, this ain’t my first rodeo. I’ll get the serums for you.” You open a different drawer and pull out a cigar and a lighter.

Bucky watches as you place the large cigar in between your red-painted lips, bringing the flame of your lighter to the end and hollowing your cheeks until smoke exits from the corner of your mouth. Bucky feels blood travel south as his eyes glaze over your hand grab the cigar out of your mouth and blow out a long string of smoke.

“I guess we’ll be in touch then,” Sam stands and Bucky follows after.

“My sister’s wearing blue, so find yourself a nice tie.” You call out, lifting your feet up to cross them on the desk, dress rising and showing your legs.

Bucky blushes, and then laughs as he exits when he hears you, in a deep and more exaggerated accent than your own, “Just when I thought I was out… they pull me back in!”

…

The morning of the party, Sam and Bucky pick you up from your house, planning to take you into New York to discuss final details before tonight.

You get in the passenger seat, Sam offering it to you and climbing in the backseat. As Bucky begins to drive off, your phone rings.

“I told you to leave that.” Bucky says, telling you explicitly to leave electronics here to prevent anyone finding out where you are, and also to avoid any distractions.

“Wanted to see what you’d about it, Sarge,” You wink at him, pulling out a flip phone and answering the call.

“Yeah… Uh huh… He what? Are you fucking kidding me?... Alright… Tell him not to move a fucking muscle.” You hang up, slamming the phone closed.

“Stop at the facility for a sec, I gotta take care of something.” Bucky sighs and turns away from the route to head to your facility.

“Bucky’s going to be going with you tonight, by the way, he’ll be in disguise. Just in case anything goes wrong.” Sam tells you, not really caring anymore about having to make a stop for you to take care of whatever business you need to take care of.

Your only response is a hum as Bucky can feel the anger radiating off your now tense body.

You slam the car door shut as Bucky parks behind a garbage truck outside, not even waiting for him to fully put the car in park before you exit.

Him and Sam follow quickly behind you to see what’s going on. You enter through a side door that leads to a large room, a garage for the trucks, Bucky assumes.

There’s a large truck inside, and racks of suits wrapped in plastic scattered around. A younger man stands near the truck as your crew peruses around the racks, he couldn’t be older than twenty-five years old. Your heels click on the ground as you approach, slowing down as you glance between the suits and the young man. Bucky and Sam hang around a few feet behind your trail.

You stop, fuming, staring at the man before you speak, “You wanna tell me what the fuck happened?”

“I -” He begins, but you cut him off, raising an open hand at him.

“Actually, I don’t even want to hear your fucking voice right now. Because if what I heard you did is true; if what you did to Vinny’s guy is true, you’re gonna be a fuck load of trouble.”

“Can I -”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“But -”

“I said shut the fuck up, Christopher! What part of that don’t you understand?” You yell, and even Bucky feels intimidated.

You turn to your crew, “What the fuck happened.” You demand, more than ask.

“Kid says he tried to take the truck, Vinny’s guy had a gun that fell outta the seat, went off, shot him.” One of the men summarizes, not looking up from the rack of suits.

You raise a manicured hand to pinch between your eyes, “You keep me skinny, Christopher, with all the fucking stress you cause me.”

“Would you let me explain?” He tries.

“If you don’t do as I told you and shut your fucking mouth, you’re gonna be buried with two assholes,” You threaten before continuing.

“They were fuckin’ suits! All you had to do was take the truck! How did you fuck that up -” You stop yourself and sigh, attempting to calm yourself down.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna take all this shit, you’re gonna take it back to Vinny, and you’re gonna tell him what happened yourself.” You finish.

“Marone!” He exclaims, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Enough with the theatrics! You’re lucky I don’t put a bullet in your ass! Now, I don’t see you grabbing that rack and that rack and that rack and putting it back in the truck!” You wave your arms around the room.

The kid sighs and begins grabbing the racks one by one and rolling them back in the truck.

“Would it be such a shame if they all went back?” An older man from your crew asks, already wearing one of the expensive suits. You scoff and laugh.

“Bucky, pick yourself somethin’ nice for tonight,'' You turn to face him, and he jumps at the sound of your now calmer voice being directed at him, as opposed to the harsh one used on Christopher, “On me.” You wink.

...

Sam and Bucky sit on the bed and watch as you get ready. A small apartment near the party that’s already been swept for bugs. A favor, you called it, from someone you know.

They don’t question it.

“You and Bucky will go in together and I’ll be waiting at a secondary location watching and listening to everything.”

Bucky can’t tear his eyes away from your dress. A mermaid dress, he thinks it is, black and tight and hugging you in all the right places, curving around your ass and sleeveless at the top, allowing you to show off a nice necklace and your cleavage. It’s an understatement to say that he’ll enjoy accompanying you tonight, even if it’s in a costume.

His mother probably would’ve loved it if he would’ve gotten with someone like you. Someone who loves their family, a spitfire that wouldn’t take any of his shit, and whose god damn gorgeous. She might’ve had to wash your mouth out with soap, though.

“So, why is Bucky goin’ again?”

“Safety.” Bucky answers.

“Is he going for my safety or am I going for his?” You tease, finishing the last few curls of your hair, smoke coming from the iron after each time you pull your hair away from it.

“Once you find our guy, get talking with him and see if you can get him to make you an offer,” He begins.

“One I can’t refuse?”

“Then, you’ll try and get him alone, see if he’ll show you the serums, and once you do, we’ll be taking care of the rest.” Sam finishes explaining.

Bucky plucks a box from his pocket and opens it to reveal a pair of diamond earrings. One, a camera, and the other, a microphone. You’re also given a comm to hide in your ear so both him and Sam can hear everything and you can hear them.

“Easy - peasy.” You respond.

The ballroom is lively, loud music and people everywhere, and Bucky attunes all the action overwhelming him to a sweat and not that fact that you’re pressed up against him, his arm wrapped around your waist.

About a hundred different people come up to greet you, asking about your family, offering you drinks and food. Bucky can see right through all of them though; they’re all putting on the act out of fear. Everyone’s attention is on you, and Bucky’s sure if he wasn’t in disguise right now, no one would even notice.

You bring him to the middle of the crowd and he can’t be surprised when you start to dance with him, pulling at his arms to get him to loosen up. He complies, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close as the two of you move together.

“I’ll let you know when I spot him.” He tells you, voice causing goosebumps to rise on your neck; goosebumps that he notices but doesn’t point out.

It only takes a song or two before he spots who he’s looking for and sends you over, making sure your com is on, and choosing to stick by the bar, giving him a good view of you and allowing himself a break of having your body pressed against his.

He’s impressed listening to you talk to this guy, voice smooth and sultry, yet still commanding.

He knows there was a lot of talk when you took position as boss; not a lot of people in the mob took you seriously and didn’t think you or a woman in general would be good in that kind of position in power. So, you use that to your advantage to get shit done, and Bucky applauds you for that.

It’s not long before the guy offers to go somewhere more private to discuss business and Bucky follows far behind, Sam praising you through the coms from where he waits in the car outside, watching through the camera in your earring.

Bucky waits outside of a closed office door upstairs, listening to the conversation through the coms but hearing your exclamation through the door when the guys give you his asking price.

“5 mil each?! What do you take me for, some kinda stunad?”

“Take it or leave it.”

“Take it or leave it, yeah, I can put a bullet between your eyes and take it, alright.”

“Stop messing around and take the offer, it’s not real anyway!” Sam tells you, not wanting to lose their chance on the serums.

You ignore him prioritizing your need for respect over the stupid mission, “How do I know these aren’t Kool-Aid pouches poured in glass bottles?”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to test ‘em out for you.” The guy scoffs.

“Stronzo. You’re outta your fucking mind offering me that.”

“I’ll lower the price for you if you give me a little dance, how ‘bout that?”

“Vaffanculo.” You curse at him.

“Up yours, lady!” He yells back, and Sam sees through the camera, he grabs at you.

“Buck, get in there.” Sam tells him, and it only takes Bucky a second to kick open the door.

He’s a bit taken aback when he not only sees the case of serums out on the table, but you holding the man bent over the small table in the middle of the room next to the serums, gun held to the back of his head.

He very quickly decides that you’re fine and moves to grab the serums, closing the case and holding it securely in his left hand.

“Don’t kill the guy.”

You stay silent and Bucky looks at you again. He can almost see the steam coming out of your ears and he notices a small cut on your cheek bone. He looks down to the man’s cowering figure and notices a large ring on his hand.

You mumble something in Italian to the man, a threat of some kind that Bucky can guess given how the man shuts his eyes and shakes a bit under your hold. Sam finally enters the room, military grade handcuffs in hand.

“Feds are on their way, get her out of here.” He tells Bucky.

You slowly lift the gun off the man’s head and stand up straighter, walking over to brush past Bucky in the direction of the back door.

He makes eye contact with Sam and gives him a nod before following after you, watching as you scrunch up the bottom of your dress to replace the gun in an ankle holster. Once outside, he stops you under a street light near the car and raises his hand to look at your cheek.

“We gotta get going,” You swat at his hand.

“You’re still bleeding.” He says, using his thumb to brush away the line of blood, smearing a red tinge on your skin.

He looks into your eyes and for a second he sees the tough exterior drop. The face of someone who got smacked across the cheek all for mouthing off at some asshole.

Your vulnerability doesn’t last long, though, as you sniff and walk towards the car, opening the passenger door and sitting inside before Bucky can make it over there to open the door for you.

The drive back to the apartment is silent, and Bucky doesn’t know what to do or say to fill the silence. Stepping into the apartment, you immediately go to change and collect your things. Bucky moves to the bathroom to look for a first aid kit of some kind.

He meets you in the room and you’re now in cotton pants and a large t-shirt, sandals on your feet showing the bright red color of your toenails and the lines indented in your skin from how tight your heels were. You’re hanging up the dress and zipping it back in the cover when Bucky drops the first aid kit on the bed.

“Christ, it’s only a small cut.” You mumble.

“Just - Let me, would you?”

He takes out the liquid of disinfectant and soaks a cotton pad, cleaning off your cheek bone with it before covering it with healing ointment and a bandaid.

You don’t thank him when he finishes and he huffs as he closes the kit, “When do you drop the act, huh?”

“I don’t.”

“Really?” Bucky asks in annoyed disbelief.

“No. People tend to try and have me whacked when I drop the act.”

He sighs, “So, what, nobody ever takes care of you? Treats you? You don’t have any days off? Time to be yourself?”

“This lifestyle doesn’t really allow me to have days off, Sergeant Barnes.” You snap, gathering the dress in your hands and turning to face him completely.

“Take me home, I’m tired and my feet hurt.”

You leave him in the room and he waits an extra few seconds before dropping the conversation and following you out.

...

Bucky opens the back door to the environmental facility with his right hand and sees the door to your office open, you and your crew sitting together surrounded by cigar smoke and he can hear a TV on.

“Sir, please step into the vehicle.”

“Like the cop would be callin’ this asshole Sir if the fuckin’ cameras weren’t around!” You wave a hand at the TV, not yet seeing Bucky standing there.

He finds it funny that the gnarliest criminals - the literal Mafia - spend their time watching shitty, scripted cop shows.

It’s been about two weeks since the mission with you where you retrieved the serums. Sam went to prom with your sister five days ago, which was hilarious for him, especially when he got photo prints of different sizes in the mail at his apartment. He didn’t bother thinking about how you found his address.

One of the men sitting next to you glances his way and sees him standing there, smirking at the vision of him; hair combed slightly back and to the side, and a large bouquet of flowers in his right hand and a small paper box in his left.

“You got company, Boss.” He says.

You look over to the doorway and your jaw drops in an open-mouthed smile.

“Look at googootz! Now this is a man that knows how to treat a lady, are you boys paying attention?” You tease, scurrying over to him and pinching one of his cheeks, resting your free hand on his large bicep to guide him into the room, the rest of your crew ushering out to give the two of you privacy.

“What’s in the box?”

“Cannoli.”

You throw your head back with an exaggerated moan, “You know the way to an Italian woman’s heart, Sergeant Barnes. What’s with all the gifts?”

“Thought I’d treat you.” Is all his response is.

You narrow your eyes at him and stand up a little straighter, crossing your arms over your chest.

The last conversation before he dropped you off that night hasn’t escaped his mind. He understands the difficulties of life - how it’s hard to find time for yourself among the busy schedule that is existing. He catches himself sometimes, too, forcing his body to run with no sleep, burning through all of his energy until he’s completely drained and blaming it on life.

But life’s not always like that. Life allows for days off. For treats. For a bit of kindness. And Bucky’s come to show you just that.

“What, a beautiful woman like you never received flowers and pastries before?” He says, taking a half-step forward to be close enough to look you closer in the eyes.

“Are you flirting with me?” You whisper in amusement.

His eyes glance away from yours to look down at your red-painted lips. He gives you a shy smirk, really turning up the charm. For a big, bad, boss, you’re pretty easy to break down.

“Let me take you out tonight.”

“Maybe I’ve got plans.”

“Cancel ‘em.”

“What makes you think you’re worth canceling plans for?”

“Why don’t you trust me and find out?”

“You should know by now, Sergeant Barnes, that I don’t trust.”

He doesn’t respond for a moment, setting the box of cannoli on your desk before reaching his now free hand up to your face, using his finger to brush away a stray hair and push it behind your ear.

He then takes a hold of one of your hands, turning it over to place a kiss on the top of it, before wrapping your fingers around the flowers in his other hand, forcing you to take them.

“No restaurant you’ve been to a hundred times over, no drama, no business. Just a man trying to treat a lady.” You look down at the flowers before meeting his eyes again.

“I get to pick the place.”

“No.”

“The kind of food.”

“No.”

“The -”

“No. Let me take care of everything.” Bucky insists, determined to get you to give up control for the first time in what he can only imagine has been a very long time.

Bucky knows better than anyone how terrifying it is to give up control. It was terrifying when he was forced to give up control, his free will taken away from him in the war for decades upon decades, but it’s terrifying even now when he has to do it as a free man. It makes a person vulnerable. When was the last time you were allowed to be vulnerable for somebody?

“I’m gonna pick you up here at six. Wear something nice and leave the executive attitude at home.” He finishes, leaving you with the flowers and cannoli before returning back outside, ignoring the stares he receives from you crew who wait patiently outside your office.

He feels your eyes follow him at the door, and he can’t wait to sweep you off your feet tonight.

[starlightments]

                                     PREVIEW: part one

    The Galra, a hostile nation of magic-wielders, have finally been banished from the kingdom’s borders. The war is over, once and for all. The Crown City is more determined than ever to re-establish peace to its people when a mysterious boy is discovered in the outlands. Keith is taken under the wing of the Royal Guard, where he is to be groomed for knighthood, but his inherent and untamed magical abilities have branded him a threat, alienating him from the only family he’s ever known — until he meets Lance, a rambunctious young prince in search of a playmate.     But as the boys grow older and feelings grow stronger, their days of childhood whimsy evolve into a deeply unshakeable bond; one that is soon tested by rumors of a Galra counterattack and perhaps even a state-mandated betrothal to assuage political tension. Now, with both hearts and lives on the line, the two lovers find themselves at a complicated crossroads: duty or desire?  

Language: English  |  Rating: TBD  |  Art Credit: here  

FANDOM: Voltron: Legendary Defender

GENRE: Royal AU, childhood friends-to-lovers

PAIRING(S): Keith/Lance

                                                     . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

  A flash of light comes blazing through the half-parted curtains, followed by a violent clap of thunder that rattles the floorboards and, consequently, startles the young prince awake.

  Lance sits up with a gasp, clutching at the elaborately embroidered duvet, keeping it tucked under his chin for protection. The bedroom goes pitch black again, save for the bluish glow of a star-shaped nightlight in the corner, but the storm continues to rage outside. He can hear rain beating behind his window and the blustery sway of tree branches as they scrape up against the glass like fingernails.

  “Marco,” Lance whispers into the darkness. His brother remains fast asleep, snoring softly, on the other side of the room. “Marco.”

  Still no response. Lance spends a moment rooting around under the covers for his raggedy stuffed lion, then squeezes it close to his chest as he scuttles over to his brother’s bed and shakes him urgently by the shoulder.

  “Go away,” Marco grumbles into his pillow.

  “But the noises!” insists Lance. “What if it’s a—”

  “It’s not a monster, it’s just a storm. Quit being such a baby.”  

  Lance puffs up at that, bottom lip jutting out with defiance. He’s fully prepared to remind his brother that he turned seven last month — and is, therefore, no longer a baby by any means, thank you very much — when another loud noise cries out in the dead of night; except this time it’s unlike the rumbling thunder and howling winds. It’s a mighty whoosh of the front doors being flung open downstairs. Wet footsteps slapping against the marbled foyer. Low, angry-sounding voices.

  “Marco,” says Lance, shaking him again. “I mean it, I think there’s something—”

  “Cut it out, Lance,” Marco says, and then swats at the younger boy’s hand with an agitated grunt before rolling away to face the wall.

  But the noises persist. If anything, they’re only getting louder, more conspicuous, and Lance’s curiosity is not so easily brushed aside. So, bracing himself, with his trusty lion in tow, he pads across the room and pokes his tiny head through the door.

  Across from him, Lance’s older sister is doing the exact same thing, peering furtively down the dimly-lit corridor in a satin nightgown, her hair done up in curlers.  

  “Ronnie—”

  “Shh!” she hisses at him, a finger pressed to her lips in warning. “It’s Papa.”

  Lance’s mouth parts into a bewildered little ‘o’ shape as Veronica proceeds to slink out of her room and toward the staircase. At the opposite end of the hall, he spots Coran, the royal family advisor, where he appears to have dozed off in the middle of watch duty again, slumped over in a chair, his big orange mustache wiggling with every exhale, and so Lance decides to tiptoe after his sister.  

  The Citadel’s east wing is a winding labyrinth of passageways and gilded alcoves, but the further they creep into its bowels, the clearer the commotion becomes. One of the many chamber doors has been left slightly ajar, a strip of lamplight pouring out from the gap, along with their father’s voice, hushed and stern.

  “—What on earth were you thinking, Takashi?”  

  They both scamper up to the door, peeking inside. It’s a thin opening, just barely enough space to make out glimpses of shifting bodies: their father paces around a large wooden conference table, his brow drawn tight, while Shiro, in contrast, stands perfectly still like the soldier he was born to be. There’s a small boy hovering at his side in tattered clothes, similar to Lance in size, and his face is obscured by a curtain of damp fringe.  

  “I found him in the outlands, alone, with nowhere to go and no way to survive,” Shiro answers firmly. “That’s what I was thinking, your Majesty.”

  “You should know better,” the king fires back. “After everything that’s happened, you, of all people, should know better than to invite danger into this household.”

  “He’s not dangerous,” says Shiro. “He’s a child.”  

  “No, he’s Galra.”

  At that, Veronica inhales a sharp breath, then immediately clamps a hand over her mouth. Lance is startled, too, but only because he knows he should be. Only because he’s heard grown-ups murmur that word when they think no one is listening, like it’s something terrible and blasphemous. This boy right here looks like neither of those things.  

  Through the crack, Lance can see Shiro lift his arm; the mechanical one. “And so am I, now,” he states. “The very magic that this kingdom fears, the very magic that’s now a part of me, is what saved my life.”    

  A pause. “That’s different,” the king growls. “It was our only option.”  

  “Well, pardon me, your Majesty, but then what is his only option?” argues Shiro, pointing at the boy. “Death?”  

  “Death,” Lance echoes, scandalized, his grip on his stuffed lion tightening. He reaches for his sister’s ruffled sleeve and tugs. “Ronnie, did you hear that, he just said—”

  “Lance,” she shushes, “be quiet or they’ll hear—”  

  The sudden halting of footsteps lets them know they’ve been caught. But before either of them can think to run, the chamber doors are being swung open wide and their father’s long shadow is looming from above. His expression, however, has been transformed into one that Lance recognizes; gentle and warm.

  “Aha,” he chuckles. “I thought I heard some little mice scurrying around these halls.” Swiftly, the king scoops Lance up into his arm and takes Veronica’s hand with the other. “Back to bed, you two. What would your mother have to say if she knew you were up this late, hm?”

  Shiro, in the background, says, “Your Majesty, I—”

  “We will finish this discussion in the morning, Captain Shirogane,” the king replies tersely. He doesn’t even turn halfway to meet the other man’s eyes. “Right now, I have a family to take care of.”

  “Yes,” mutters Shiro, nodding. “Understood.”

  As Lance clings to his father, peering curiously over the top of his shoulder, he discovers that the strange Galra boy is staring at him with the darkest, saddest eyes that Lance has ever seen in his life. It makes Lance’s skin tickle, being looked at like that.

  So, he waves.  

  The boy freezes in place for a moment, but eventually waves back, looking a bit ashamed, as if he’s not sure whether he should be doing it. When he does, though, Lance notices that the skin of the boy’s palm is covered in black calluses, almost charred straight through to the bone.

  It’s the last thing Lance sees — and the only thing he’ll think about, later, tucked away in bed — before his father rounds the corner and carries him out of sight.

[kaminobiwan]

cannonball

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x jedi!reader

summary: Throwing all caution out the window, Obi-Wan dives headfirst into a long awaited confession. At least, he tries to. The universe seems to leave an obstacle for him at every turn, but Obi-Wan is nothing if not persistent.

a/n: Oh my goodness, this has got to be my proudest piece. It was one of the victims of the incident™ and I had to rewrite the whole thing from scratch, but I actually think the final version came out better than the original! The title is inspired from the summary of my previous fic Indulgence, but this one is actually the cornerstone of all of my jedi!reader x Obi-Wan fics: every one of those has stemmed from this storyline idea that has been living in my head for so long. Suffice it to say this is THE fic that I have wanted to write from the beginning — my pièce de résistance, if you will.

I hope you enjoy :-) p.s. here's my taglist form

In all the years he’s known you, Obi-Wan swears he only ever started to lie to you during the Clone Wars.

In his defense, he’d been lying to himself, too. Forcibly crushing down his much-deeper-than-platonic favor for you in the hopes that it’d disappear, forgotten in his darkest recesses, was exhausting in more ways than one. One’s mind can only be dishonest with the heart for so long.

But after more than a year and a half into the fighting, he’d felt too many times the choking fear that he’d never see you again — be it because of his death or yours.

So he’d given up in repressing his emotions, and let himself feel. In the precious minutes of reprieve amidst the horrors of combat, sometimes the only thing that could console his jaded and war-torn soul was the memory of you.

He wonders how he managed to continue for as long as he did before allowing himself to consciously love — it was well into the conflict when he came to terms with it. If he closes his eyes, he can easily remember the exact moment.

Geonosis. His return to the forsaken planet.

The chaos of it all had been staggering. He’d barely been able to hear Cody’s warning before he was shot out of the sky, and the crash that claimed the lives of nearly everyone in the transport had been just the beginning of the hellscape he’d endured.

There was an instant where he’d been sure he was going to die on the field, seconds before the remainder of his battalion was about to be overrun.

He remembers the gunfire surrounding him, piercing the falling bodies of his men as he laid helpless and injured. Cody’s shouting amidst the mayhem. The stabbing pain of his ribs that had blackened the edges of his vision. The dirt that had caked his face and armor. The sheer amount of it had been maddening.

And yet, as the bugs had closed in around him and he’d forced himself to his feet to meet his imminent end, the only thing that had run through his mind was...you.

Your name, your face. The dissatisfaction at the fact that the last time he’d seen it, it’d been distorted, static and blue from the holo you’d shared with Master Unduli. The way you’d hidden a smile as she interrupted his competitive jeering with Anakin ahead of the battle.

At least he’d made you laugh, he’d thought, and with that, he’d ignited his lightsaber.

And then the reinforcements had come. And he’d been left to sink back down on shaking knees with the image of you burning in his brain until the concerned presence of Ahsoka materialized at his side.

He hadn’t had any time to process the stunning realization that he was in love with you. He’d scarcely had a second to gather himself before he was already spouting a revised attack plan to take the droid factory, reverting to autopilot the way he always did when he assumed his identity as a war general.

But the universe had seemed intent on not letting him escape it, regardless. Just days later, he’d saved your life — you’d arrived at Point Rain with Luminara only to be taken by the Geonosian queen to be turned into a mindless, shivering zombie.

“I still haven’t forgiven you for that, you know.” You’d chirped, while tapping his nose teasingly.

“What? The stunt with the worms? You know I wouldn’t have actually let it go up your nose.”

“No, for disobeying an order to fall back and leave us behind.”

His heart had clenched at your words. Never in a million years would he abandon you if he thought there was the smallest chance of saving you. He knew that, finally.

But the fear of losing the only life he’d ever known outweighed the fear of losing you, and he’d settled with yearning for you from afar. It would be enough, he’d convinced himself. He refused to burden you with the knowledge that he’d been pining helplessly for you for Force knows how long, and ruin the careers in the Order you’d both worked so hard to construct.

That was, until now.

Until he’d seen Satine Kryze again, after decades apart, and she’d declared her surviving affection for him from all those years ago, Anakin witnessing the whole thing. After he’d seen the weight of her unspoken truth upon her shoulders. And although he regretted that he couldn’t grant her the relief from her wanting, he’d resolved that he didn’t want to spend the rest of his days the same way — slowly being crushed by his own supression. Even if his feelings were unrequited.

So he’d decided that he’d tell you, Jedi Code be damned. He wouldn’t hold it in any longer.

As the Coronet docked on the landing pad where the Chancellor was waiting, he’d been jittery with anticipation. That, and disoriented from the events that had transpired on the way there. He’d blubbered uncharacteristically when Satine had caressed his face in farewell, Anakin watching delightedly at his back. Then, as he’d turned to find a speeder to make his way to you in the Temple, the universe had yet again toyed with him — you were there, appearing on the platform out of nowhere like a summoned spirit, but not making your way towards him.

No, you were walking straight towards Satine.

You didn’t seem to notice him or Anakin behind you, welcoming the Duchess with practiced cordiality and leading her to the airbus where the other Senators were boarding, glaringly obvious that you’d been assigned on escort duty. Obi-Wan held back a groan. Of all the Jedi.

Anakin had practically collapsed in hilarity, a hand heavy on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “The Force works in mysterious ways, Master,” he crowed. “I finally get that one.”

———

You’re perched high up on a viewing balcony of the Senate Chamber when he finds you, a little before Satine is set to address the Republic.

“You’re certainly off your game today,” you exhale an amused laugh as he skids to a stop, attempting to compose his appearance as he approaches you. “Anakin told me all about what happened on the Coronet en route to Coruscant.”

His blasted Padawan. Obi-Wan could strangle him.

“I didn’t teach him to gossip,” he grumbles, coming to stand beside you. He'd run the whole way here to catch you, but his rapid heartbeat isn’t from physical exertion. You’re as tranquil as ever, though, and your presence relaxes him despite.

You give a snort. “Maybe not intentionally. He definitely learned how to operate outside the lines of the Code by watching you.” He knows you’re poking fun at him, but his breath catches at the mention of the doctrine that dictates you both.

But he’s set on telling you. Today.

“Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about something similar.”

You turn to the Chancellor’s podium as his voice reverberates through the hall, but Obi-Wan’s hearing is fixed on you. “Of course, Obi, but it’ll have to wait until later. I think your friend is about to speak.”

He opens his mouth to reply, to bring your attention back to him, but you’re focused on the proceedings. He doesn’t like the jovial way you say friend, as if you’re almost happy about it, but he forces his gaze to follow yours as Satine begins her address.

Which, of course, goes terribly wrong. Because nothing seems to want to work out today.

Even your usually optimistic features are set with a grim expression as a testimonial from Satine’s own Deputy Minister slights her leadership, and the Senate turns against her. As her repulsorpod retreats from the center of the chamber, you cast concerned eyes towards him.

“Go,” you urge him, and he’s frozen between staying or leaving. “She needs you. I’ll buy you some time with the security detail.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t want to depart from your side, words hanging on the tip of his tongue, but he knows you’re right. He nods at you gratefully before chasing after Satine.

———

He tries again in the evening, while you’re between shifts of guarding the Duchess’ guest quarters.

“She seems...interesting,” you nod to the Mandalorian guard that passes by to take your post, speaking low enough that your conversation is relatively private. “She certainly had much to say about you.”

Obi-Wan wanted to scream. It seems everyone had been able to get you alone except for him. “I told you about that year on Mandalore after I came back,” he protests, and you shoot him a pitiful wink.

“Not the way she described it.”

Before he can demand just what Satine had let on, the sound of rapid footfalls draws both of your attention to the guard you’d greeted earlier. “Master Jedi! The Duchess is gone. We don’t know for how long.”

You curse lightly and rush down the hall to follow the Mandalorian, and Obi-Wan is about to do the same when his comm buzzes on his wrist.

He sighs in frustration. He knows exactly who it is.

———

After he’d relayed the untampered evidence to Padmé in time for the Senate convocation and Satine had been released from custody, Obi-Wan makes his way to your quarters in a determined stride. The past couple days were nothing short of a wild Bantha ride from start to finish, and he was tired of tiptoeing around you.

As he raises a shaking hand to knock outside your room, he stalls in a moment of fleeting hesitation. The impending metamorphose of your relationship nags at his brain, and he pauses. What he’s about to do will indelibly transform the dynamic between you, for better or for worse. It dawns on him that there won’t be any going back from this.

He hears your voice from a distant memory of late nights in the Temple gardens, basking in the light of the stars. Of course everything will change. Nothing can stop that.

So be it.

He stands as tall as he can manage, and knocks resolutely.

You open the door looking ready for bed, clad in a billowing camisole, face dewy from the refresher and hair still damp. He smiles at you as you open it wider. “Hello, Obi.”

He shuffles inside, meekly nodding in apology of his interruption. “I thought I’d come see you.”

Like routine, you’re already heating up a pot of water for him as you search for his favorite tea in your cupboard. Ever so thoughtful. His heart flutters beneath his robes. “I’m glad to see you found the Duchess,” you chime lightheartedly, “I had a hunch when you disappeared earlier.”

His hand finds the back of his neck. “I hope I didn’t make you look too bad, being on protection and all.”

You shake your head dismissively. “I was just glad to hear she was safe. You helped save her people from Republic occupation.”

Altruistic honesty radiates off of you, and his chest drops, in a good way. You care, and it’s written all over your actions.

You’re the best person he knows. Without question.

For a split second, Obi-Wan wonders if he even deserves you. But he pushes the thought in the back of his mind for later, hell-bent on not letting anything get in the way of what he wants to say.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

You face him fully, abandoning the tea as you take in the seriousness of his posture. He sucks in a stunted breath.

“It’s about —”

“I know.”

He startles, momentum lost as you interrupt him suddenly. Your gaze is penetrating. “What?” He asks dumbly.

“It’s about Satine, isn’t it?” Your bare arm comes up across your body to hold the other, and Obi-Wan finds himself staring at the way your too-long pants brush the floor as you sway to one side. Your sleeping shirt brushes the middle of your thighs, and he realizes how utterly small you seem in the moment. “You feel the same way about her that you used to.”

His eyes snap up to yours at your words, mind reeling. It takes him an eternity to force out a single word.

“...No.”

You tilt your head confusedly, and Obi-Wan wants to pinch himself to test if this is some sort of stress-induced hallucination. “No? You do know she’s positively infatuated with you, don’t you?”

“No, I —” he shuts his eyes desperately. “I mean, yes, I know, but I don’t —” he breaks off abruptly, opening his eyes at you with newfound willpower. Blast it.

Obi-Wan crosses the room in three steps, reaching his hands out to cradle you delicately as he pulls you in for a bruising kiss.

He hears your breath stutter, shock just about vibrating off of you, but in the next second your eyelashes graze his cheeks as you close your eyes and lean into him. His heart pounds in crazed gratification, and Obi-Wan feels downright dizzy from the sensation. He’s going to faint, he’s going to die right here in your arms —

Your hands find the top of his chestplate, fingers curling against it, but after a beat of his body singing with joy, he feels you apply the smallest pressure on his armor. You detach your lips from his slowly, and he blinks dazedly at you when you pull away. Disbelief paints your frame.

“Obi, what —”

“I love you,” he says quickly, hands still on either side of your face. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you. For so long.” One of your hands reaches up to clasp his own against your cheek. “I know that this goes against everything we’ve ever been taught, and you must be confused. I’m sorry.” He breaks off for a second, eyebrows creasing, because he’s not sorry. He could never be sorry for what he’s just done, not with the feeling of your lips still rippling in tingles through his brain. “But I had to tell you. I just...couldn’t go on without you knowing.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you flounder in his confession, and he studies you with more intensity than he’s felt in ages. He’s suddenly hyper-aware of everything about you, offhandedly concentrating to memorize every tiny detail. He’ll relive that kiss a thousand times over for the rest of his life if it’s the last one he’ll get.

“I — I don’t know what to say,” you manage to let out, and he presses his forehead to yours before releasing you. Say you love me, his heart cries. But Obi-Wan pushes the sentiment away.

“It’s alright,” he promises gently. You stare at him as he squeezes the hand that’s still holding his. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Obi-Wan, I —”

Whatever you’re about to say is cut off by a loud knock from outside, and the way you jerk back from him pricks at his emotions. You quickly pad to the door, opening it a crack as he attempts to conceal himself from your unexpected visitor.

“Sorry to bother you so late, Master,” Anakin’s voice fills the air, and Obi-Wan shrinks further into the shadows. “I’m just checking in before I leave for Vanquor. I wanted to make sure you’re still available to train Ahsoka while I’m gone?”

It takes you a little to formulate a response, your eyes still wide. “Yes — of course, Anakin, always.” You attempt to shut the door, but Anakin speaks up before you can.

“Actually, I was hoping to ask you for some advice as well, if you don’t mind.”

You can’t look at Obi-Wan without giving him away, so he sends a subtle wave of reassurance your way, hoping you pick up on it.

The tension releases from your shoulders, and you nod at his old student. “I’d be happy to. Give me a bit to get ready,” you gesture behind you, “and I’ll walk you to your quarters.”

Anakin must nod in return, because you close the door without another word. You reach up to grab your outer robes from where they’re hung on the wall, and turn to him with a tormented expression.

Go, it’s his turn to coax you as he mouths the word silently. It’s alright.

Your eyes are shining with emotion that he can’t quite read in the dim light, but eventually you slip on your cloak and shoes and open the door once more. With one last lingering glimpse at him in the corner, you disappear into the hall where Anakin is waiting.

As he feels your presence dwindling away, he sends a final thought into the vacant room, more to himself and the aching emptiness of the Force than to you.

I love you.

[imnotusedtobeingloved]

HAPPY IS YOU

(PLEASE DON’T REBLOG!)

Warnings: No longer unrequited love???

Pairing: Zuko x Mai x f!Reader

Characters: Zuko, Mai, King Kuei (mentioned)

Requested: Yes!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor the gif. Credit to the owners.

Summary: A happy ending for Y/N.

A/N: Here it is! This is part three to “happy is her”.

The chatter and the music that rang through the hall did nothing to ease your nerves.

Your eyes flickered back and forth between Zuko, who had his back to you standing at the other end of the hall and Mai, who looked at you expectantly.

“I really... don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Mai.”

Your friend raised a brow.

“What are you scared of?” She asked, while you played with your fingers, lowering your eyes. “Of what he’s going to say... how he’s going to react...” you mumbled and shrugged.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, folding her arms in front of her chest. “he might not be the exact same Zuko from back then, but he’s not a stranger. Deep down he’s still the goofy, firebending, turtleduck-lover you remember.”

You bit your bottom lip, looking over her shoulder. From across the room you saw him turn, eyes scanning his surroundings. He was clearly searching for Mai to get him out of his misery.

The little crease between his brows disappeared when he spotted your friend, but once his eyes switched to see who she was talking to, they widened.

Your first instinct was to flee, but Mai took a look over her shoulder and grabbed your elbow, before you had any chance to escape.

Zuko navigated through the people in the hall with long strides and the closer he came, the more you realized how tall he had grown. He wore traditional Firenation attire, a swirl od red, black and gold.

“(Y/N),” he spoke, softly. As if he couldn’t believe you were here. “you’ve come back.”

“I’m one of King Kuei’s advisors. He’s gotten sick. I’m here to represent the Earth Kingdom.” You clarified, forcing yourself to get the words out, despite your nerves.

“Ah.” He said, lamely.

Mai rubbed the bridge of her nose.

You had a lot of things to say. A lot of time to make up with either of them, but you found yourself unsure where to start. Seeing them again after all this time was beautiful and terrifying.

Thankfully, Mai was there to rescue you. Like she had so many times before.

“I’m going to leave you two to talk.” She interfered and went.

Zuko eyed you for a moment, before putting a hand at the small of your back, leading you. “Come on. Let us speak outside, where it is calm.”

You nodded and remained silent until you were on the terrace. The laughter and the music followed you out and eventually faded, once he closed the doors behind you.

Your heart beat rapidly against your chest and you did not dare to face him yet. Once a few seconds passed, he put a hand on your shoulder. “(Y/N),” he said, softly. “you’re tense. Am i making you uncomfortable?”

“No. It’s just...” You searched for the right words to come to mind. “I’m trying to figure out how to tell you that i’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you. And Mai. And everyone else.”

A small smile pulled at Zuko’s mouth, but a moment later it disappeared.

“Mai missed you, you know?”

“I know. She told me. I heard she’s not the only one who did.”

A little crease formed between the Fire Lord’s brows. “I just didn’t understand why you did it, (Y/N). Why so sudden? Why did you leave without saying goodbye?”

“Mai didn’t tell you about my letter?”

“She did. But she never showed me. She never told me what it was about. Even while you were gone, she took your side.”

“Well...” you mumbled, lowering your eyes. “that was my goodbye. I thought she would explain it to you, since the two of you were... one.”

Zuko shook his head, stepping closer. “And then we weren’t. So, are you going to tell me what really happened? Did someone threaten you?” His features darkened, reminded of the many attempts on his life since he’d stepped up to his position.

“No! No. Never.” You reassured, eyes shooting up to his.

“Then what happened?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why is that?”

“It is embarrassing.”

“(Y/N),” he took one of your hands in his. They were warm. “We are still friends, are we not? You can still trust me, whatever it is that bothers you.”

You pursed your lips. He looked at you with so much hope, so much kindness. It nearly brought tears to your eyes, realizing how much you had missed. The young prince had grown into an intimidating and respected Fire Lord, heavily involved with all parts of the world as you knew it.

“I left because—” The words got stuck in your throat.

“Because?” He gently urged, golden eyes burning into your soul.

“I left because i was in love with you, okay? I was in love with my best friends boyfriend and it was embarrassing! I couldn’t stay around you any longer, back then. It... i just couldn’t take it anymore. So i left.” You lowered your head in shame, not able to meet his stare any longer.

Zuko was silent.

“Was?” He then said.

“What?”

“You said ‘was’. Does that mean you’re not in love with me any longer?”

“I don’t know.” You bit your bottom lip. There was no denying that the attraction between the two of you hadn’t completely vanished. You knew for a fact that you had been in love with the boy back then, but the question was if that still applied to the man he had become.

“Is there any way to find out?” He asked, nudging your chin with his fingers, to look up at him.

“What are you saying?”

“There is no love in this world, (Y/N), that is embarrassing. It should be cherished. It is true that i loved Mai, but i regret that you had to leave how you did. I wouldn’t have judged you for it.” The corners of his mouth lifted into a beautiful smile.

“Thank you, Zuko. That means a lot to me.”

“I’ve always loved you, (Y/N). Maybe even as more than just a friend, i realize that now. But the young boy back then was too blind to see it,” Zuko was so close, that his chest almost touched yours, his hand still under your chin. “Seeing you tonight has made me recognize a lot of things i didn’t see, before you were gone. I propose, if you’d be willing, we could explore those feelings together, that once were.”

What was the right thing to say in such a situation? Your mouth slightly open and wide-eyed you searched his face for any pointers that this was actually some kind of cruel joke.

He could not be serious, could he?

“(Y/N)?” Zuko pulled you out of your thoughts, his expression turning concerned. “I’ve been too forward haven’t i?”

You swallowed dryly. “You haven’t.”

His features lit up as his eyes flickered over your face. “So you are giving us another chance?”

Hesistantly, you nodded. “I am, if you are.”

Relieved, he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I most definetely am,” he leaned down, burying his head where your neck curved into your shoulder. Just like he did when you were small. “i am so glad to have you back, (Y/N). I cannot imagine spending another day without you.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t have to.” You grinned.

Standing on your tiptoes, you could see Mai pass the window over his shoulder, giving you a look that seemed like approval, before she disappeared back into the crowd.

Zuko peeled away slightly, only to tilt his head to capture your lips with his. And with your best friends approval, you kissed back. It was better than you’d imagined it to be. They were soft, molding perfectly into yours, and his satin hair tickled your cheek.

He made sure to leave you breathless.

By the time the two of you pulled apart, your lunges ached for air. Zuko laughed softly, infecting you with his delight, sharing small kisses between your shared joy.

“Promise you’ll never leave again, will you?” He adored you. You could see it in his eyes. It was so undoubtably and genuinly him, that you smiled until your cheeks hurt.

You lifted a hand, softly trailing over the scar on his face, before cupping his cheek.

“I won’t. I promise.”

[cryinginthebackseat]

you’ve got more poison than sugar - part ii

part i    part iii  AO3 

Fandom: Call Of Duty

Pairing: Russell Adler x Bell

Words: 2.918

Warnings: some mild sexual content and swearings, like usual

Author’s note: okay, i know this one's a little short but i promise there'll be more coming on the next chapter, i promise.

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The first time Bell showed her face at Langley, it was two weeks after the program. She wore beige, a ruffled high-neck blouse that made her hazel eyes, like charred nut shells, hard and just about indestructible, popped.

She stood at the lobby, regarding the place like she’d waltzed into a wrong banquet hall, the band played in the background, chandeliers dripping like arctic icicles, the bar drenched in opulent gold.

She didn’t belong here.

But Adler met her there, anyway, Hudson in tow.

“Have I ever done something to him?” Bell asked after the rather short-lived meeting, squinting at the vacant spot Hudson left them. She’d yielded very few words. When she did, it’d been all business, crisp, so it surprised him now to hear her uttering something with more than 2 syllables.

“What do you mean?”

“Have I deliberately done something to piss him off?” she elaborated, quieter, but the glower remained.

Adler carefully studied her behind his tinted shades. It still troubled him to a degree that he couldn’t read her. Like she locked herself off. They say eyes are the window to the soul, but thus far, he saw nothing. Fuck the poets.

“No. At least, not as far as I can tell,” he grits out, curious to see where she was heading with the conversation. “Why?”

Bell hummed, but seemingly unconvinced. A beat, then: “He doesn’t seem to like me that much.”

You don’t belong here, he thought and his face went cagier, back stiffer, but no doubt intrigued. Very much so by this mysteriously curious creature.

Perceptive and diamond-sharp intelligent, he pondered. They might have secured the bag after all.

“It's not you. That’s just as warm and fuzzy you’ll see Hudson with everyone, trust me,” he uttered, hoping that she bought the fib. She did. At least, he thought so. “Come on, Bell, we’ve got a job to do.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Adler finds her outside the garage the next night, smoking alone, reading in secret. The ground is still wet from the rain, straggling cloud wisps and every artery of this place fucking freezes his bones. Bell ditches her gloves inside, but has her coat on, the collar popped up like antennae.

"You aren't cold?" he asks when she doesn’t notice him. Too engrossed in her own bubble. She does look better, though. Park is right about that one at least.

"I'm good," she answers without looking up. "Am I needed for something inside?"

"No, just thought I could use some fresh air."

He’s studying her, raking her from head to toe. Suddenly, he doesn’t care if she would notice him. Then he steps closer, standing next to her, lifting his cigarette to his mouth.

“What are you reading?”

There’s something about this secret element to her that has him on his toes. Everything about her is curious- frustratingly curious, careful, as Bell rolls her neck to meet him. In the low light, she looks quite new, he learns. And his eyes beg for him to linger.  

“Amerika. Kafka,” she says. “Have you read it?”

A subtle shake of his head and, “No.” While Bell nods, silent, like she doesn't know what else to say to him. “Should I? Give it a read?” Adler adds, just to keep the conversation going.

She shrugs, a cloud of smoke escaping her nostrils. “I can’t say that Kafka is ever a favorite of mine, but he really is sui generis. And Amerika is probably the most approachable of all his works? It’s funny too.”

“I never thought I’d hear Kafka and funny in the same sentence.”

“Yeah, well, it’s very subtle. And if only you can understand his nightmarish sense of humor, that is,” she explains, shrugging again, like she’s embarrassed. “I don’t know, maybe you’ll like it.”

Frankly, he hates Kafka. He hates his vatic, dead-eye vision of the world; that acute sense of hopelessness clinging onto his main protagonists like vines, but Adler finds himself nodding, anyway.

“Sure, lend me your copy once you're done with it." If she’s surprised by his answer, she does not tell her. But Adler thinks she’s smiling though- just the barest quirk of her lips, but it’s enough for him to know that she appreciates the gesture.

A brief, unmapped silence ensues.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

Adler arches an eyebrow at her. "For what?"

Bell slots a bookmark into the book, closes it, frowns at it.

"For yesterday. I, uh… I feel like I was being insolent to you.”

He looks sidelong at Bell and tries to read her. Her expression is raw and open, a painting visible through a small tear in the paper. For some reason, that catches him by surprise.

“You already apologized, you know?” Adler teases lamely.

“I know, but still it was uncalled for and very unprofessional of me. You’re my CO, not some random BND agent I’m forced to work with. I shouldn’t have said that," she mumbles softly and sighs, world-weary, heavy, sounding like a woman twice her age. "It will not happen again. I promise you."

"Hey, consider it water under the bridge, kid. You’re in a rather rough place right now, I wouldn’t hold it against you,” he tells her, fond. “What matters is you’re alright. We can’t catch Perseus if you’re green around the gills.”

Her eyes meet his. He meets her back.

“Thank you.” And Bell rotates her body to face him. Mussed brunette hair and sharp cheekbones, mouth kinked up in sympathy as she says, “Is this what you have to put up with all these years?"

He summons a smirk. "With you? More or less."

And then the woman does the unexpected; Bell laughs. She fucking laughs. Delicate sounding, like a tinkling glass, petals wrapped in satin, moonbeams through frosted windows. It dies, too soon to his liking. Adler privately lets the sound of her laughter replays in his head, as if trying to pocket it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It’s only after Ukraine when he discovers that she smells different. That wintry floral smell of hers that he’s accustomed to is commingling with something else.

But now-

Now, there's music in the air.

Sims does this sometimes, bringing his Zenith Trans-Oceanic, or as he would call it the Tranny, to the safehouse and they would tune in to international radio stations. Cream's Sunshine Of Your Love is playing- or more specifically, their song is 5 seconds away from being cut off abruptly by the DJ. The song reminds him of Vietnam, regrettably. The root of all madness.

“Next up, is my favorite ever track-to-track transition on an album. This is Pink Floyd’s Brain Damage and-”

Adler stops whatever it is he’s scribbling. He sits up, ramrod straight.

“Mind switching to another station?” he asks suddenly, glances up at Sims quickly who, as Adler suspected, is giving him a rather odd look.

“Why?”

"I've always hated Pink Floyd." Only because he’s out of reason. Only because he can feel Bell’s confused stare, searing into his temple. Only because it’s the only way of escaping this. "Change it, please."

Sims opens his mouth. The unspoken: how about that time in Denver?

The telling jerk of Adler’s lips warns him not to ask.

The other man clamps his mouth shut, seemingly gets the message and switches to a different station. He never brings his radio again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Frank Woods is exactly how Adler saw him last time- or since Hue City, that is: tigerish and intimidating- a kick in the head voice, a hurricane in the shape of a man and he is making his way to him right now.

“Can I talk to you for a sec?”

"So talk."

Woods shakes his head. "Not here."

Adler looks at him at last now, curiosity creeping over him. He then stubs his cigarette, nods once and leads them both to his office.

Once they’re inside, he locks the door, secures the blinds.

“What is it?” Adler takes a seat behind his desk. Woods remains standing. He paces around the room, a hand on his bearded chin.

“What the fuck is going on with your girl?”

Adler doesn’t know which one is worse, the fact that Woods manages to sniff out something going on with Bell or that he just addresses her as his girl. Either way, it's bad. Either way, Adler should have expected the former issue. Woods is astute as he is dangerous. There's a reason why the CIA gave the green light for Mason and Hudson to save him in Da Nang all those years ago, after all.

"What about her?" Adler asks, even-toned, giving nothing away. Even though he is in the ‘need to know’ column regarding Bell’s brainwashing, this is something Adler initially wishes he could keep under wraps.

“Don’t bullshit me, Adler. She has that look on her face- I see it in her eyes. The exact same look Mason has been wearing since ‘Nam,” Woods tells him, point-blank, never being the one to settle for niceties. After Hudson, Adler thinks he simply can’t tolerate the agency anymore.

“I saw it all, remember? Had a fucking front row seat to his relapse and shit, so don’t tell me she’s alright. Not when it looks like she could snap out of it any moment.” Woods has his hands on the table and looks at him dead-on. “Tell me I’m right. Tell me there is something wrong with her.”

He regards the other man coolly. Woods is no longer asking. Adler is out of move.

“You're right,” he answers simply, eventually, tipping his king over on its side, stopping the clock. "Did you talk to Hudson regarding this?"

"Since when did I report to Agent stick-up-his-ass? Fuck no. That's why I came straight to you.” Woods heaves a heavy sigh, like he’s the one with all these burdens. “Now, what the hell’s wrong with her?”

“She’s suffering from brain damage."

“Shit. All that ‘cause of MK-Ultra?”

“One of the few factors that caused it, yes.”

His mouth goes flat. "How bad is it?”

“Bad. We’re trying to minimize for any collateral as we speak, at least until we finally get our hands on Perseus. But she… she might not make it.” Adler leans back in his chair, like his body feels heavy all of the sudden.

Woods nods. Uncharacteristically silent, looking strangely contemplative, sympathetic even. That should be categorized as an oddity itself, Woods and him, two proud Americans, Vietnam veterans and she’s just another red, another blood they would indubitably sacrifice for their country and they’re sympathizing with her? Yet something deep inside Adler, something resonates like the throat of a storm, sinks its teeth into him, confounds him, every time he thinks of her.

Woods crosses his arms over his chest, glances at the door, as if someone might knock anytime soon, then back to him.

"So, what's the plan?" He quickly adds, "if things go south, what are you gonna do?"

"It won't come to that. She'll come through, I know it," Adler counters, suddenly defensive. Whatever the use of his tone indicates, Woods ignores it.

"You sure about that?”

"Are you doubting me?” Adler spits out a retort. A quiet fury grasps him tight, but he forces himself to keep under a tight lid.

Woods holds his hands up in mock surrender.

"Look, I’m just saying, that woman is a loose cannon- you can’t be too careful."

"We have everything under control, Woods. And this is the least of your worry right now."

"Alright, okay. If you say you and Park have her contained already, then fine. I trust you,” he says and heads for the door.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Woods says again. He’s facing the door, back to him. “Whatever happens, keep Mason in the dark about any of this."

“Of course. He isn’t on a need to know basis from the very start, you know that.”

"Good. ‘cause the less he knows the better." Woods pauses like he's constructing an entire sentence in his head. He peers over his shoulder. "I mean it. He’s been through enough. I don’t know which ground you crawled up from, but up here, some people implement this kind of civility to other people.”

The words sting, yet Adler stares back at him, seemingly unfazed. "What, you’re saying that I’m simply heartless?”

“Nah,” Woods says, satirical and sardonic. “You’re just Adler.” And with that, he’s gone.

1976

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was eight o'clock on a mid-September evening and Adler found himself coming home to an empty house.

His wife had already left a week prior, crossing the country with a self-proclaimed film critic she'd met at the premiere of The Shining last summer, but Adler didn't know that yet.

He went to the kitchen. Dropped his suitcase, pulled off his coat and scarf. He reeked of cigarettes, cheap air freshener and jet fuel- air travel is simply sickening, in terms of its cost and smell- and in a desperate need of a hot bath.

"Honey?" He switched the lights on. She wasn't here. So Adler headed upstairs, to their room where they would rest their bones every night for the past 15 years. The door was slightly ajar. He expected to see her sleeping from under the duvet, hair splaying all over the pillow.

What he found was a folded note on his bedside table. He stared at it, his heart at his throat, fearing the worst, the unimaginable. He picked the letter and unfolded it.

Forgive me.

Russell,

Live or die, but don't poison everything .

His head did pirouette. So, this was it. This was what it felt like, he thought.

Not heartbreak, not sadness. But a collapse of the world- his world and all he could do was watch from the sidelines.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

1981

Adler stares at the words now, sleeves rolled up, anatomical heart. The paper is fading, wrinkled and it smells like smoke and decay and tears, capped with something akin to regret.

It has his name on it, begins with it, and ends with an apology, written in cursive. Like microscopic snakes dancing around his peripheral vision, hissing in his ears.

Live or die, but don't poison everything.

No one likes to be told that they are sick, but Russell Adler has learned to acknowledge it, embrace it, weaponize it. Her words mean zero shit to him now. You can't condemn someone to the depths of hell when it's the only place he's known all his life.

So, he takes the letter for the last time, remembering how the ink used to smudge his calloused fingers, crumples it up, that satisfying crunch dins in his palm, and tosses it into the fireplace.

The paper crackles. Good fucking riddance. It really takes all this time for him to grow the guts, apparently, and he just stares and stares as the fire begins to engulf everything, wiping away his past failure.

He promises he would never fail again, at anything. No matter what the cost, failure is never going to be an option.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Bell arrives at the garage with frantic eyes, a half-burnt cigarette between her lips and uncharacteristically late. Color peppering her cheeks- red, like an apple bitten into.

“I’m sorry, I overslept,” is her excuse, but she’s looking at the room strangely, he thinks, almost like she’s seeking a particular face.

When she makes her way to her desk, when she whizzes past him by the board and her planet is entering his orbit for the first time in the morning, Adler, as if by accident or by design, inhales deeply.

His breath snags.

She smells like someone else.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(Someone fucked her last night)

The telephone rings in the distance.

“Sims. Yeah, sure, let me get him. Hold on.” He puts the call on hold. “Doc, you might wanna take this one.”

(Someone was in her bed; beside her, above her, under her. Inside her. He imagines her fingers digging into the mattress as they rolled her onto her stomach, mouth trailing down the ladder of her spine. Their breaths intermingled in the seraphic glow of her hotel room)

Adler mechanically crosses the room and picks the receiver.

“Adler.”

(If he herds her away from prying eyes and pushes down the collar of her shirt, would he see the evidence there, taunting him? If he kisses her, would he taste them instead of her? )

"Perhaps," he says over the phone, his face hard. "But my decision is final. I'm sending Woods and Mason to Yamantau. They'll leave in a few days."

(Did they make her come?)

"Of course. Why do you think I chose them for this mission?"

(If she made them?)

“Most likely, but we're prepared for this- you know we are," Adler says, customer service polite, an old recording on a playback. "Right. Well, that concludes the matter then. Yeah, you have a wonderful day to yourself.”

Adler hangs up the telephone. Breathes out a sigh. He pinches the bridge of his nose for a few good seconds, before remembering that he has an audience.

"Oof. Sounds rough," comments Sims, dark eyes slanting in concern.

(Maybe she likes that, rough. Teeth biting the back of her shoulder, that sweet juxtaposition of pain and pleasure coursing through their veins, his hand curling around her throat from behind as she pants and mewls like-)

(But this isn’t about him. Never about him)

"That's one way to put it."

Someone else fucked her. It shouldn't leave an acrid taste in his mouth, but it does.

[stay-tinystars]

Colors: Masquerade

Ship: Hyunjin x Fem reader

Non idol au, Soul Mate AU

Warnings: sarcasm, bitter feelings, tripping over things, slight hitting/slapping (nothing violent), Chan is a tease, reader is implied to be older, I think that's it.

Word count: 4.2 k

A/N: So I wanted to write something for Hyunjins birthday. I always have been intrigued by Soul mate AUs so I wrote one. I haven't seen this one done before, so I hope you all like it. I plan on doing a one shot for each SKZ member for this AU. So some skz members will feature slightly in this and future stories. The series will be called Colors.

I hope you enjoy! And Happy birthday to Hyunjin! He is amazing, talented, and just drop dead gorgeous! Happy 21st international birthday! --story published Mar 19 2021 6:00pm MDT

---------------------------

Most people couldn't wait to meet their soulmate. The one person who would change not only your life, but your eyes.

Everyone was born with two different colored eyes, they say those colors determined your childhood. Overall they generalized the colors; Blues usually meant they were inspired kids, inspiring themselves and others to do great things. Green meant they had luck on their side. Brown had resilient personalities, bringing a sense of dependability to others. Purples were very independent and creative. Grays had a sophistication that most children lacked. And so on and so forth. By the time you reached middle school everyone knew what their exact eye colors meant, and some say it predicted how you would find someone.

Eyes however didn't remain two separate colors your whole life. Once you met your soulmate they changed almost in an instant, color shifting for a few seconds until your eye color perfectly matched that of your mates. Some say time seemed to stop once they noticed their mates' eyes changing, but one thing was for sure no one felt their eyes change color, the only thing they usually felt was their heart speeding up. 

You originally couldn't wait to find your soul mate. You got caught up in the feeling of it all. You believed he would be everything you wanted and more. During your teens it's all you dreamed about, how you'd meet in some perfect way, how he would sweep you off your feet. However the past few years had made you bitter, watching friend after friend find their mate leaving you in the dust.

"You'll be the same when you find your mate" they would say as you grimaced as they would kiss and cuddle in front of you. Most of those so called friends never invited you to things anymore, because you couldn't relate because you didn't have someone. They said it was because they didn't want you to feel like the third wheel, but mostly you knew it's because they pitied you for not having someone. "It's a shame you don't have anyone, I hope he's still around somewhere"

You were starting to feel like you had some sort of disease, because that's how you were treated by those 'friends'.

Things only felt worse as you stared at the flyer someone slid under your door.

-----

Hyunjin pov

"Mandatory masquerade spring formal." He read as he lifted the flyer from the pile of mail next to his door. Hyunjin hated these mandatory regional events. At least this one was just a formal instead of a full costume ball, like the last one. The large cities throw these balls, three times a year. Anyone over the age of 20, who hadn't found their soulmate was required to go. This would be his third ball, he hoped it would be his last. Sure he wanted to meet his soulmate, but mostly he wanted all the girls who came to these things to stop throwing themselves at him, staring at his eyes hoping to see a change. Most would find it flattering, in fact Hyunjin did back in high-school he always loved the attention. Curious which girl would try during lunch that day. Now it was getting old, he wanted someone who truly saw his soul, not just his good looks.

Hyunjin sighed as he looked at himself in the floor length mirror, black suit pants, navy silk long sleeve button up with the top three buttons undone. A dark night sky scene was painted on the mask that rested on his nose. His long dark hair pulled away from his face. His eyes unchanged, still two different colors. One burnt umber, the other ocean blue.

He was curious of what color his eyes would change to once he met his soulmate, he heard it depends on how and when they meet.

For instance, his dad had similar eye colors to his before he met mom. They met on a stormy day, each on their way their jobs enjoying the rain. They met while dancing out in the light spring shower while waiting at a crosswalk. Now his parents both had beautiful bright gray eyes, the same color as the storm clouds as they parted for the sun that day.

Would his eyes turn the Navy he had chosen for this dance if he met her tonight? He sighed to himself, shaking his head slightly as he grabbed his things and left his apartment.

--

Reader pov.

At least the food they provided at these mandatory balls was delicious, it seemed the only incentive that was worth the trouble of being here. The numerous hors d'oeuvres were delicious, and you had a plate full of all the different types to make sure they still tasted delicious.

Truthfully you hated being here. You had been to too many of these things to count. At this point you wondered if your soulmate was dead, or lost somewhere. Simply because you hadn't met him yet, and it felt as if time was ticking. Maybe that's because your friends all found their mates within the year you all turned twenty. Now here you were five years later, still with miss matched eyes. One pewter gray, one lavender.

You wore the same dress you always did to these balls. At first it made you feel amazing, like a princess. Now it only brought you bitterness. The purple satin that faded to blue, a galaxy made of glitter across the bodice. The mask on your face was silver, making your eyes seem to shine.

"You look bored" a familiar voice got your attention, as he sat at the empty table next to you. Dressed in all black as he usually was. Looking devilishly handsome as always.

"Chan, I'm always bored at these things. You're the only one who talks to me" you sighed leaning on the table as you looked towards him. 

Chan was a god send at these things. He became your friend a few years ago, during one of these balls. His dimples made every girl swoon, it was the first thing you noticed about him, but what made you stay was the wonderful caring conversation that was so rare at these things. He actually wanted friends, not just a soulmate. He was truly a social butterfly.

"Maybe if you leave the table, and stop glaring at anyone who approaches, someone might talk to you." His mischievous eyes of emerald green and royal purple danced beneath his black mask, as he stole some hors d'oeuvres off your plate. Popping one into his mouth.

"Shut up Chan, not all of us are as charming as you!" you playfully hit his arm. He gasped softly and grabbed his arm in fake pain.

"I'm sure you could be somewhat charming. That is, if you took the "F off" stamp off your forehead." he teased making a face at you.

"Very funny" Rolling your eyes, looking back towards your plate of food, then towards the dance floor which was filled with eager young people, all dancing and talking. Switching partners every song or so. You watched as one couple suddenly stopped dancing, their eyes growing large. She squealed, jumping up and down as he hugged her. Another happy couple, another soulmate found.

You wanted to vomit.

"I want to know how neither of us have found our match, we've both been too far too many of these." You groaned, sliding down in your chair. Not caring how unladylike it was. You glanced towards Chan, who was just enjoying watching everyone.

"I suspect my match is elsewhere" his words wise, his eyes looking towards the newest happy couple fondly. "I think they might be at one of these in their own region"

"She probably is cursing your name right now, wondering why you are taking so long to find her." you started.

"Like you are cursing yours right now?" You wanted to smack that smirk off his face.

"Chan you can be infuriating." You stood, smoothing out your skirt. Chan chuckled following you. Knowing you wanted some fresh air.

"Maybe you don't want to crash the next regional dance with me." he nudged you as you both walked around the main crowd, towards the large outdoor balcony.

"Now that is a good idea, I didn't think you had any of those left" you looked towards him with a shocked expression. Your foot caught on something, then someone's body bumped into yours.

That's when you ended up flat on your back, your mask slightly askew.

The music seemed to stop. In fact it had. You looked at your converse clad feet which were tangled in the electrical cords from the DJ booth. Chan was laughing. The DJ scrambled from the booth to fix the electrical situation. You shifted, untangling yourself best as possible from the cords. Muttering a slight apology to the frazzled dark haired man, as he gathered the cords quickly.

"I'm so sorry!" A new voice said as he stumbled to his feet beside you. His navy shirt hanging loosely around him. "I wasn't even looking where I was going," he said, dusting himself off. Then looking at you, and offering a hand.

"It's my fault too, I wasn't looking." You said taking his hand, to help you to your feet. Then glaring at Chan who was beside himself with fits of laughter. "I was too busy chiding my friend" you gestured towards Chan, shaking your head.

"My name is Hyunjin" the handsome man smiled, his mask shimmered as the little iridescent stars caught light.

"Y/N " you said with a slight bow, fixing your mask.

"It's nice to meet you, I haven't seen you here before." he smiled, he was ridiculously attractive.

"Well she's been here, forever" Chan exaggerated as he leaned on your shoulder. You shoved him away.

"Shut up Chan."

"Well you have!" He put his hand up in mock defense.

"I'm so done with you!" You walked away, then turned to Hyunjin and gave a quick wave. He gave a small nod, as a girl approached him tapping him on the shoulder.

You took that as your queue to leave. You felt so done with everything, still hadn't felt that spark everyone gushed about. You felt slightly embarrassed about cutting the music with your own clumsy feet. You made a fool of yourself thanks to Chan, you just knew you needed out.

When you got home you were exhausted, and changed out of your gown, and quickly washed your face then just went to bed.

------

Hyunjin

Hyunjin nodded, as the strange but cute girl practically ran away. Feeling a small tap on his shoulder his attention was brought to a girl in a pink poofy ball gown. The music was starting up again, he knew she was going to ask him to dance. Why had he come in from the balcony?

"So I've been watching you all night. And…." Her eyes widened. "What color are my eyes?" She asked quickly, her words stumbling out of her mouth.

"Um.." Hyunjin cocked his brows as he looked closer, kind of confused. "Dark blue, and light green?"

Her face fell, then he saw multiple emotions flash over her face, ending in anger.

"Why are you here if you already have a soulmate? Shouldn't you be with them!" She practically yelled. Hyunjin was confused, as the girl slapped his arm and ran away. What a strange turn of events. First he ran into that girl, Y/n? Now he just got some weird girl thinking he had a soulmate, these balls got worse every time, maybe he would call it a night.

He went to the bathroom, still bewildered by the weird situation that just happened. As he took off his mask he looked in the mirror.

"What the hell?!" He yelled at his reflection, leaning on the counter, getting closer to the mirror. Both ofHis eyes a bright flaming orange. He felt as if he was looking at a campfire in his eyes. His mind started reeling. How had he met his soulmate? He had barely talked to anyone all night, he had hid on the balcony outside for the first hour of this thing, just eating the hors d'oeuvres that were provided. He then came inside to try to make the night worthwhile, and while looking at the decorated ballroom, he ran into someone, literally. That's when it clicked, the girl he literally ran into, it had to be her. She was the only one he talked to!

"Y/N, I've got to find Y/N!" He grabbed his mask and ran out of the bathroom.

Two hours of searching later, Hyunjin sat defeated at a random table. He sat his mask down and slumped in the chair, as he watched happy couples in pairs all around the room. That's what was supposed to be happening to him right now, staring into his soul mates eyes, dancing the night away without a care in the world.

Who had ever heard of a soulmate who didn't know. A soulmate who didn't say anything. These stupid masks, they cover up half your face, distorting the eyes. The dark room. How did they expect people to see the change with those factors?

He always heard that when you saw the change and knew, but he hadn't seen her eyes change, plus she ran off so quickly. Maybe he should've gone after her. No, that would've been creepy, plus he didn't know at the time.

What was he supposed to do? He wasn't even sure exactly what she looked like. That's when he saw his chance. He swears that's Y/Ns friend from earlier, in the all black and black mask talking to the DJ right now. Hyunjin quickly stood and bee lined towards the man in black.

"Excuse me, your Chan right?" Hyunjin said, approaching him.

"Yes, and you're Hyunjin?" The man smiled, as Hyunjin nodded. Chan resumed watching the people on the dance floor in front of him.

"Yeah, I, uh, ran into your friend Y/N earlier" Hyunjin rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah you did, quite literally." he chuckled, side eying and gently elbowing Hyunjin.

"Well that's the thing. I kind of need to find her."

"Did she break your phone or something?" He asked.

"No, she's kind of my soulmate." Hyunjin blurted.

"What?" Chan choked on air, as his eyes bugged out. He turned and grabbed Hyunjin's shoulders, looking him straight in the eye, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly as he saw the orange in his eyes.

"She's the first one I talked to tonight at this stupid thing. After hiding on the balcony. I didn't even know it happened til another girl started to flirt with me." Hyunjin now turned his attention to the dance floor.

"I'm sorry to tell you, but she's long gone." Hyunjin felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

"I figured, since I've been looking for her for over two hours" he heard the other male grimace on his behalf.

"So I was wondering if you could help me out. All I know about her is her first name." Hyunjin looked towards his shoes, trying to distract himself with the nice polished shine.

"Well I could help," Chan smirked and Hyunjins head snapped up looking at him, "but I'm not sure I owe Y/N the courtesy of helping her out." Chans mischievous two toned eyes shone playfully.

"I thought she was your friend" Hyunjin was slightly confused, yet again this evening.

"Oh she is, she just owes me after bailing on me tonight." He looked at his phone. "And being as I have no messages from her freaking out. I bet she didn't even notice before she went to sleep"

They exchanged information, Chan excited to be in the middle of this. Curious of how you would react in the morning. Promising Hyunjin to keep him informed.

-----

Your pov

The blaring alarm on your phone made you groan, you silenced it and rolled back over. Some days you wish you didn't have to work, but being a manager over editing on the largest magazine in the city meant you couldn't miss work. Yet you still fell back asleep.

When your alarm went off to tell you it was time to leave you woke up in a panic. You quickly showered and dressed, grabbing some breakfast then you were out the door, not even bothering with makeup as you were going to be late.

"Oh my gosh! Tell me everything!" Joy, your second in command gushed as you entered the office.

"Nothing out of the ordinary at those stupid balls. Food again was the only reason to attend" you muttered as you set your things down on your desk, and plopped in your chair.

"Obviously that's a lie! Now tell me what really happened!" Joy pestered. Her vivid seafoam green eyes, staring you down. She found her soulmate just after she started working with you, but she always wanted to gossip and talk about those meeting their matches. It intrigued her for some reason.

"I told you everything. I went ate food, watched all the stupid romantic couples, headed outside. Tripped on the cords for the DJ booth then left." You huffed, leaning back. She put her hands on your chair making you face her. You cocked your eyebrows at her.

"You don't know? How can you not know" Her words confusing, and accusing.

"Joy, what are you talking about?" You groaned. She then dug in her purse bringing out her compact.

"I know I didn't do my makeup today." 

"Just look in the mirror"

"But-"

"Just look in the mirror Y/N" you grabbed the compact from her hand and looked at yourself, trying to see what she was talking about. Nothing seemed out of place, you didn't have any bruises from the collision last night. You went to close the mirror when you glimpsed orange. You immediately pulled it back to your face. Eyes wide.

"I…. What?" Your words lost and confused.

"Now tell me about him!" She sat on the edge of your desk looking at you.

"I only talked to Chan last night. And we both know he isn't my match" you sat staring at the mirror in your hand. Going through everything that happened, you grabbed your phone. Quickly texting Chan.

--What color are your eyes???

you hadn't heard of knowing someone for years before they became a soulmate but you had to ask.

"Well you had to have met someone new" she nudged your leg.

"That's the thing, I don't remember talking to anyone else. Just Chan annoying me, then-" the sudden realization hit you. "I ran into someone, literally"

"Of course that's how you would meet your match" she nodded. "You are kind of clumsy"

"Oh hush!" You pushed her slightly, she just laughed.

"So tell me about him"

"Um, he was handsome? I think his name was Hajun? No, Hyunwoo? I don't remember. I was a little frazzled last night. Plus we only talked for a second after we both ended up on the floor" you muttered, leaning back in your chair again looking at the ceiling. When your phone buzzed.

-why are yours perhaps a different color

-say orange? 😏

--Well I never expected you to be my soulmate after all this time….

- what are you going on about? My eyes are still a perfect green and purple.

--Chan what do you know...

- Far more than you think

--Chan tell me! Did you talk to Hyunwoo?

-I don't know a Hyunwoo.

-do you perhaps mean Hyunjin?

-- YES! Hyunjin! Are his eyes also orange

-- dumb question

--you told me orange before I told you what color my eyes are.

-this is actually very entertaining

- you're over thinking everything aren't you.

-- Shut up Chan!

-- Do you have his info

- Maybe, but you told me to shut up so I will!

--Chan! No!

-- Please!

--I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you! I need his number.

- Only if you do something for me

-- I don't like where this is going...

- you never do.

- dinner 6 pm tonight, at Ombu downtown.

- be there and I might give you what you want after you pay for dinner.

-- You only like me for my money

- I have more money than you!

--So you say, but I always pay.

- just meet me at 6.

"So Chan knows who it is, but won't give me his information" you said looking at Joy who was now actually working at her desk. Like you should be.

"Typical Chan, let me guess. Making you buy him dinner in exchange for the information." You nodded. "I swear whoever his soulmate is better cook well, he will do anything in exchange for food" she shook her head.

Work was over soon enough, and so you changed into jeans and a blouse, did a small amount of makeup and headed downtown. Ombu was your typical spot to go with Chan. Delicious Korean barbecue, their meat selections far better than the other places around. Which is why Chan always insisted on going there. 

"Welcome, Y/N! Chan is already waiting for you" Rose the usual hostess said guiding you towards your usual back corner booth, Chan loved this booth, he could people watch and it had the best hot plate.

"Thanks Rose!" You say as she motions towards the table. Your eyes grew as you looked at the table. Not only seeing Chan, but you couldn't stop staring at the orange eyed man next to him. "Hyunjin, right?" You said softly as you took your seat, he nodded a smile came across his face as he stared at you.

You finally started to understand why those couples would just stare into one another's eyes. His eyes were intriguing, bringing you a sense of peace. His eyes looked like the flames of the comforting campfires you enjoyed so much as a child. You almost wanted to just curl up and look in his eyes forever.

"Well, now I can see this is going to be awkward. So I'm just going to order food to get the dinner started" Chan said. You hadn't even realized the waiter had come to the table to take your order.

"Sorry" you and Hyunjin muttered at the same time. Followed by nervous giggles.

"I wasn't expecting to see you tonight," you said to Hyunjin. "Chan wanted dinner in exchange for your information. I didn't think he would bring you"

"Well, I asked him to keep me informed last night, after I couldn't find you. So once he told me you guys were getting dinner I wouldn't let him tell me no" his hand drifted towards yours on the table.

"So you're persistent," you noted.

"Very." He smirked moving closer.

"Look, guys I want dinner. Can't you guys make heart eyes at each other afterwards. I just want to eat. And if this continues, you guys are going to make me sick." Chan groaned.

"I'll try to behave," you said as you reached towards Hyunjins hand, taking it in yours.

"You don't know how to behave." Chan teased. You just rolled your eyes, shaking your head. You usually would say something back, but you were slightly distracted by the soft circles being drawn by Hyunjins thumb on the back of your hand.

Two weeks later you sat in Hyunjins apartment. Cuddling as you watched an action comedy. Your head resting on his chest as his arm draped around you. You started to get to know your match well. You found out he worked at the large musical academy. He taught dance, and music history. He was doing quite well for himself, he had a nice place, a car, and was decently responsible with his money.

Hyunjin was your soulmate, your match. Aside from that first night at ombu with Chan; the two of you did your best not to be disgustingly cute in front of those who didn't have their match yet. Such as his roommate Han, who usually ended up joining the two of you for movie nights.

Truthfully life was good, you felt less bitter about it all. Of course it wasn't perfect, and you still had a lot to learn about the other, but this was what you needed. You needed someone who was whole, who had a kind heart and soul. And that was what you got, it was just a perk that he was ridiculously attractive.

Hyunjin was grateful to have finally found you too. He didn't mind being younger. He loved your caring heart, protected by its sarcastic shell. He couldn't believe he met someone who already had so much drive and compassion. He loved your playful banter with his friends, he was grateful you accepted his friends and did your best to make them comfortable. Plus he couldn't ever take his eyes off of you. In his mind you were perfect in every way, despite the flaws you insisted you had.

He felt lucky being the first of his friends to find his match.

-- Orange meaning: warmth, enthusiasm, success, encouragement, change, determination, stimulation, happiness, fun, sexuality, freedom, expression, and fascination. --

[nari-nim]

my good girl (m)

Treasure Jihoon x Y/N

Long distance can be hard, but you’re both trying out ways to stay connected. And when Jihoon’s ordering you through the screen, you’d better listen. Or not, but be ready for the consequences.

warnings: video sex, lingerie kink, orgasm control, mutual masturbation, dirty talking, slight degradation and mentions of sexting

request: smut prompt #8 with jihoon

author’s note: prompt 8 is “Be a good girl and touch yourself for me” for context. anyways, I’ve been super busy lately but I wanted to write for y’all :) This was supposed to be a timestamp but it kinda became longer than that...

10:49pm

You felt goosebumps rise along your arms as your eyes flickered towards the green light from the laptop camera before focusing back on Jihoon’s sultry gaze. Through the screen, you watched as he sat into his desk chair, the creaking amplified through your headphones.

“Move your arms, angel,” Jihoon purred.

You slowly complied, revealing your form fitted in the lingerie Jihoon had picked out and shipped to you. It clung to your frame and accentuated your curves, the satin and lace combination leaving little room for imagination. Jihoon’s hooded eyes were practically fucking you through the screen, eyes intensely drawing you in.

You had to admit. This new format made you feel like you were on display, like a work of art for private viewing. And from the way Jihoon was palming himself, you knew he liked the view. 

Empowered, you rubbed your thighs together, shifting your leg to trail up to your thighs, showing off his purchase. Slowly, you leaned back, spreading your legs to reveal your excitement. From your little corner screen, even you could see the growing dark spot on the thin fabric now pressing into your folds.

You slightly smiled as Jihoon sucked in his breath, an airy chuckle escaping his lips at your initiative.

You pressed your palms against your stomach and slid up, feeling the lace tickle your skin, as you traced the similar path Jihoon’s hands usually takes, until your were cupping your breasts through the thin fabric. You briefly closed your eyes, imagining that he was there with you, his larger hands pressing warm trails up against your skin to find your most sensitive spots of the night.

You sighed, thinking about how good it would feel for those said hands roughly grab you as he railed you, grunting your name against your neck.

“Y/n.” Jihoon’s low drawl pulled you back to reality. “Be a good girl and touch yourself for me.”

You gasped a little, looking back at him. Jihoon’s hand was under his sweats, rubbing at his cock. Oh, what you would give to be on your knees in front of him doing that.

Your fantasy would come true soon enough. He’ll be back tomorrow. But you’re getting impatient.

At that thought, you followed his instructions, propping yourself against the pillows, moving your legs apart even wider for the camera to see. You started rubbing gently circles against your clothed core, eyes focused on the languid motions Jihoon used to pleasure himself in front of you.

“Taste yourself for me,” Jihoon directed. You nodded, lips parting as you slid your fingers under the lingerie and slowly spread your arousal around and to your clit. You brought the excess to your mouth, making a show of lapping against your fingers before sucking against them. You kept your fingers there, hallowing your cheeks.

Jihoon groaned, pulling his dick out and stroking it at a faster pace. Jihoon pulled off his shirt, his toned chest reflecting the warm lighting emitted from his desk lamp. His abs seemed even more defined in this lighting. He knew what effect his actions has had on you. And it was working.

Your mouth watered as you took in how incredibly attractive he is. You pulled your hand out of your mouth to return the favor, pulling your tits out from the lingerie, letting the elastic push your chest out more, making your erect nipples even more prominent.

“Come on, show me how much you miss me,” Jihoon said. “Weren’t you just telling me how much you wanted me to come home and fuck you silly?”

You groaned at the truth of his words, blushing at the reminder of what you sexted earlier. 

You watched with bated breath as he rubbed his thumb against his tip, just the way he taught you how he liked. You mewled, moving the fabric aside so he can see all of you, any ounce of shyness now replaced by lust. Deciding you needed more, you leaned forward to take off the panties, pushing your boobs at the camera before sitting back again.

Jihoon smirked, licking his lips. You smiled with faux innocence back. 

“That’s right, angel,” Jihoon said, now pumping his cock. “I want to watch how you want me to touch you.”

You felt the same, eyes hungrily taking in Jihoon’s actions. You pressed your fingers hard against your clit, and set a steady pace, your legs twitching slightly from the immediate pleasure. You could tell Jihoon was loved watching the way your fingers were rubbing desperately into your glistening core from the he gritted his teeth as his eyes moved up and down to take you all in before resting at your pussy. Jihoon’s self ministrations were now matching the speed of your rubbing. His free hand gripped at the armrest, muscles flexed. 

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” Jihoon cooed. “You look like such a slut right now.”

You moaned at his words, quickening your pace, feeling your lower abdomens start to tighten up. You reach up to pinch at your nipples, moaning. You felt your muscles start to tighten up, the pressure between your legs deliciously mounting.

“No, y/n.” Jihoon ordered, his tone authoritative. “Not until I say so.”

“Jihoon,” you moaned, slightly out of habit. Mostly, out of want. It took every once of self control to slow your fingers.

He liked that.

“Louder, baby.”

“Jihoon, PLEASE,” you cried. You knew he loved nothing more than to watch you beg, the desperation on your face turning him on more than anything, but you needed to climax. You’ve spent too long touching yourself from the videos he sent late at night, so now that he was there, the neediness was uncontrollable. 

“I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.” His tone remained cocky, but his voice was straining. You debated for a second, fingers already picking up the pace you left off.

Fuck it. You were miles apart. 

You reached down with your other hand and slid your fingers into you, feeling your walls accept the introduction.

“Y/n,” Jihoon warned.

You would deal with the consequences later. 

You ignored him, body contorting in pleasure as your fingers found your exact pleasure spots. This time, the sensitivity had you reeling. You pressed harder than ever against yourself, your fingers now flying against your pulsating core. The pressure in your stomach hitting a breaking point, releasing a wave of endorphins through your system. You screamed, back arching, toes curling, as you felt your cum seep out through your fingers, dripping onto the bedsheets. All for Jihoon to watch.

As you slowly panted, coming down from your high, you face flushed at the realization of what you just did. You hesitantly rightened yourself, and looked at the screen, into Jihoon’s dark expression. The silence was tense and palpable. You couldn’t tell if he finished or not. His stern expression was intimidating, his arms clasped together.

He shook his head at you in disappointment, causing you to lower your head a bit in shame. “I thought you were going to be my good girl.”

You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

“You’re not going to be able to walk for a fucking week after tomorrow.”

With that, he ended the call.

Fuck.

[patchwork-panda]

“I won’t tell a soul.” (BSD Nakahara Chuuya x Reader #1)

AO3 link: HERE

“Title: “I won’t tell anybody”/“誰にも言わない” Genre: Romance Rating: PG-13 for alcohol usage (eventual language/physical violence/kiss scene) Reader-insert is written as a civilian, femme and 20+ Plot: You meet Chuuya at a wine bar and over time, you become close. Your regular meetings become something you both enjoy so when Chuuya stops visiting for several weeks, you begin to worry... When you meet again, you learn the truth... But do you care? Mini Fic is written in 2nd person. title is reference to new Utada Hikaru single

“You have good taste.”

You lower your wineglass slightly and glance over the round rim, across the bar at the man who just spoke. You’ve never seen him before but he speaks as though he already knows you and something about that catches your interest.

You study him. 

He’s well-dressed. Better dressed than most of the other patrons, with his gray vest, half-jacket with the sleeves rolled up and fancy black hat worn low on his head. There’s an expensive-looking black coat lined in rose-colored satin draped on the chair behind him and a belt-buckle choker gleams at his throat.

Beneath the brim of his stylish, black hat, the man’s hair is bright orange and curls just so about his face, with a single lock, kept long, draped casually over one shoulder. And his eyes... his eyes are the deep blue of the ocean on a wintry day. His lips pull back into a confident smile as he sees you looking and he briefly tips his hat in greeting.

You smile. 

You know that even if you didn’t already have a glass and a half of your favorite cabernet flowing through your veins, you would still find him attractive.

The man across the bar raises his glass to you and as the dark garnet-red liquid inside catches the light, you see that he has selected the exact same wine as you.

“Thank you,” you reply, raising your glass as well. “Same to you.”

                                                    ----------------------

And that was how you’d met “Chuuya.”

He never gave his last name, so you chose not to either, but that didn’t stop the two of you from getting to know each other.

Like you, Chuuya had been coming to this particular wine bar for some time now, but he tended to come by very late, usually just before closing. The only reason you’d caught him on that first night was that you’d stopped by a little later than usual, having had a particularly long day at the office and that he’d come a little early. But you’d really hit it off that first night, and so, as if by some secret, unspoken agreement, you kept meeting here, at this nondescript wine bar a stone’s throw away from the five large black towers that dominated the Yokohama skyline.

Every Friday night at eleven, you would come here, sit at the bar, order a glass of wine (whatever the special was that night) and wait for Chuuya to come.

And he always did come, usually never arriving more than five minutes after you, and always greeting you with his usual lift of the hat and half-smirk of a smile. Then, you would gesture to the free seat beside you and he would take it.

Chuuya wouldn’t tell you what he did for a living, nor did he ever ask you much about your personal life, but other than that, it seemed like the two of you could talk about just about anything.

Tonight, you find out that he likes hats, fine wine (especially bold reds), and surprisingly, rock music. Specifically certain types of alternative rock.

“No way,” you sputter, nearly choking on your drink when he tells you, “You like Visual Kei? That doesn’t seem like you!”

“Oh, really?” Chuuya’s tone is challenging, albeit a little playful thanks to the glass of port he’d just downed.

He leans in a little, a subtle glint in his blue eyes.

“What do I seem like?” he whispers, just low enough for you and only you to hear.

You take a slow sip of your Cabernet and think carefully before you answer.

Chuuya is fascinating to you.

There was something about him, about the way he carries himself, that makes him seem taller than his one-hundred-sixty-centimeter frame. Sure, the hat might be a part of it, but Chuuya is suave. Unlike other men you’d met or dated who were around his height, Chuuya doesn’t seem to be insecure about it. Out of habit, you’d made sure not to bring it up but you secretly suspected that if you did, he’d just laugh and point out that you were still just a tiny bit shorter. 

“Well?” he asks again.

“You seem... sophisticated,” you decide at last, setting down your glass.

Slapping one black-gloved hand against the counter, Chuuya throws his head back and laughs.

“And Visual Kei is not sophisticated?”

You shrug.

“Honestly? With the hat and the whole...” you gesture to his outfit, “get-up, you seem more like a jazz kind of person. You know, something cool and refined--”

“Oi, Master,” Chuuya demands, his cheeks tinged with pink (he might’ve had a little too much today) as he addresses the bartender, a stately gentleman with a well-groomed mustache.

Chuuya points at you, looking very much amused and yet very flattered.

“Get a load of this! She thinks I’d be into jazz--!”

“I believe the young miss is calling you cool and refined, Chuuya-san,” the bartender states, with just a hint of a smile.

Chuuya stops laughing immediately. When he turns to look at you, you simply pick up your glass of wine and bring it back to your nose. You insist that you are only smiling because you are enjoying the aroma of the drink.

                                                     -----------------

Weeks pass and you continue to meet.

You start dressing up more for your outings to the bar and your friends and coworkers have taken notice.

“Oh?” another lady in your department comments brightly when she sees you strolling out in a pair of new, black heels. “Going on a date?”

“Not quite,” you say, but your chest warms at the idea of Chuuya seeing your weekly outings as “dates.”

“I’m just meeting a friend for drinks.”

“But you’ve been meeting this ‘friend’ for drinks for a while now, haven’t you?” your coworker presses, studying you closely. “What kind of person is he?”

She grins.

“Is he cute?”

You smile back, your expression giving nothing away.

“Since when did I say my friend was a ‘he?’“

“You didn’t have to,” your coworker responds, her grin widening.

                                                         ---------------

“Yeah?”

Chuuya laughs, the sound bright and clear, like music to your ears.

His voice is more pleasant than the actual music (something jazzy and old-timey sounding) softly playing throughout the bar.

You smile.

“And then what happened?” he asked, propping his head up on the counter with one hand. His vibrant blue eyes are fully focused on you and they seem to sparkle in the soft light around the bar.

As you finish telling him the rest of your story (about an unfortunate incident that happened at work), Chuuya smile grows wider and he lets out another peal of laughter.

“Was it that funny?” you ask but Chuuya is too busy laughing to hear you.

His laughter is infectious and soon, you find yourself laughing too.

And then Chuuya lets out an actual snort. A loud one.

At once, his eyes widen and he rushes to cover up his face with one hand. His cheeks flood with pink. He looks so uncharacteristically flustered (and adorable) that you can’t help but laugh even harder. 

"H-hey, stop that,” Chuuya snaps, but he’s still smiling.

You shake your head and try to apologize but it doesn’t come out quite the way you want it to because you’re still giggling a little.

“Well if you’re gonna keep going on like that...”

Chuuya leans in. His lips curl upwards in a devilish grin. There’s a glint of mischief in his deep blue eyes and your heartbeat quickens as his voice drops low.

“How ‘bout I give you something to really laugh about?”

You grin, take a small sip of your wine and lean in to mirror him.

“Yeah?” you challenge.

“Yeah.”

Chuuya’s grin widens. He looks into your eyes, at the way you refuse to back down and leans in even closer.

“What are you gonna do?” you ask, drawing closer to him.

“The sort of thing,” Chuuya says, “that gets cheeky girls like you to stop laughing.”

You’re only inches apart now.

“Then do it,” you whisper.

You’re staring into each others’ eyes. Neither of you seems willing to back down. The other patrons and even the bar itself seems to disappear...

And then, a slow and subtle flush creeps across Chuuya’s face. His blue eyes flick down towards your mouth and suddenly his grin falters. 

Quick as a flash, his fingers wrap around your wineglass and he steals your drink.

“Hey!”

You reach forward to stop him but he’s chugged down the last sip in your glass before you could get it back.

“Ha!”

He slams the glass down on the table, nearly shattering it and looks up at you, his grin triumphant but not quite as self-assured as it usually is. His face is still very red.

“That’s what you get for laughing at me!”

But your eyes are on the wineglass in his hand, at the place where your lipstick had left a mark on the glass. That lipstick mark was now smudged and you could even see traces of the rouge on Chuuya’s lips.

“Ch-Chuuya-san...”

“What?” Chuuya asks, completely unaware of what he did.

He wipes his mouth carelessly with the back of one hand, orders you both a second round and you decide to let it slide.

You can’t bring yourself to tell him that what he just did was known as “an indirect kiss.”

Click here for Part #2

Click here for Part #3