#But damn to be tossed on the sea of someone else's ideas

[sirenmoth]

Unrequited

Any COD Man insert x GN!reader

CW: ANGST, hurt/no comfort, mentions of cheating, emotionally unavailable relantionships, military men like to move fast, and yes that is a red flag

AO3

It was hard, you knew it would be when you first accepted to date him after only seeing each other for a few weeks, you agreed to let yourself be his. You agreed to long months, sometimes a whole year or more, alone, to the nights tossing and turning, sleepless, in a bed that felt too big. To the tossing and turning from him, sleepless, when the horrors of the battlefield followed him home, of war and what he witnessed out there, tormenting his every unconscious thought. Getting used to the calm and peacful life, a domestic life, away from the bloodshed and death, the pain and the stress, was difficult and you never clamied to understand his stuggles, his pain.

You were complacent, understandably so, hoping to be his rock for when he retured, hoping he could relay on you the same way you relay on him. You knew what he did for work, what he begrudgingly told you at least, he told you of the enemies he's made who would any and everything in their power to hurt him, even if it meant using you to get it. So you stayed quite, never asked for anything extreme, never complained about him missing a date or judged when he forgot your birthday. He never talked to you about how he was feeling, his life, what little he mentioned of his job was vague and short, asking how a misson went got you even vaguer and shorter answers, so you never pushed.

You tried, oh how you tried, for so long you tried to save this inevitably sinking ship, but as the weeks turned to months, months turned to years. You couldn't take it, not anymore, you felt used, unloved, unappreciated.

Were you only here to keep his bed warm when he got home?

Did he have someone else for that? Military men are known for being cheaters, visiting bars and brothels, local clubs and barracks bunnies while having loved ones at home begging for a nice date out or just to spend some time with them. You've read the stories and heard the tales, a lonely lover at home while their other half gives everything up for a few moments of pleasure while away in a differnet country halfway around the world, how it tears families apart.

You didn't want to be another victim in the sea of statistics.

Was he cheating? You never saw him as the type. Yes, you had to beg sometimes to spend time with him or ask him several times to take you out on a nice date, but he never seemed the cheating type. That was until you began to notice the small things, his late night arrivals home from the bars, the scent of cheap body mist, the constant outings with co-workers and friends he would use as excuses for missing the plans you made for each other.

You met them once, his friends, they didn't pay you much mind, a small hello before ignoring you, so you sat at the far end of the booth of some random pub, watching as your man was practically eye-fucking some random bar patron.

You brought up the idea of having a child once, or a pet, something to fill the empty silence, make things feel less lonely, he got mad at you for it, shouting that you were being desperate, needy, deemanding after everything he does for you. You argued back that he hasn't done a single, damn, thing for you, that he's never here, he missed your friends wedding, your new job promotion, your mothers funeral, he's missed so much it was like living with a stranger.

But bringing a child into this life wouldn't fix anything, fix yours or his mistakes, you didn't want that for them. Bringing a child into a broken home wouldn't fix it, a child staying up late at night, wide awake, questioning 'when's daddy coming home?', questioning if he's even coming home alive. You didn't want them to suffer for the chocies you made, for the man for chose to love.

The stress of this life, the constant moving and them having to be the new kid every few years, never living in a permentant home, never having permentant friends, getting asked if their daddy was coming to a school event or their birthday, knowing full well he wasn't, getting asked if they even have a dad, would forver traumaties them, forever scar them.

That was it for you, the last straw.

Tired, that's all you could feel was tired. Tired of asking to be taken out on a small, simple date, one where he was actually attending, asking if he thought you looked nice, asking to be loved.

Tired of him asking you things he should know, when are you getting that job promotion, when's your friend getting married, when's your mother visiting.

You waited until he was sent away to leave, you packed up your things, was there anything of his even here? He spent so much time away or at the barracks on base or in his office, you had gotten used to the cold, empty feeling the house brought, the house you hoped the two of you would call home. Room by room, you packed, taking everything that was yours, leaving nothing behind to remember you by.

Would he even notice you're gone?

You left a few detailed letters, placing it in a location you know where he would see it. The letters detailed everything, your thoughts, your feelings, your concerns and worries, how and were everything went wrong, on your part and on his, how you left like second place to his job and his potentially other partners and lovers. How you tried so hard to make it work, how your tried to be patient hoping he would come around and open up, how you cried on those nights alone in the bed you both once shared, alone in a bed that didn't feel right.

Explained how he didn't do right by you, nor you to him. Explained that you hoped over time things would settle and that you wouldn't have to ask for the bare minimum, but it never happened, nothing changed. How you tried to fix the unfixable while he never bothered to try at all, there was no happy ending or bright future for both of you, you have come to accept that now. It was never meant to be between you two, but you hoped he found someone, someone who could give he him want you couldn't, love him like you could never. Someone who gave him everything and was the complete opposite of you.

You'd be long gone by the time he arrived hom from his deployment, with the extra time he'd spend out drinking or on base, you'd be in a new home with a new job position, a brand new life you built for youself, a brand new life to heal.

Maybe it was the wrong time, maybe you both should've met sooner, or later, maybe this all could've been avoided.

Maybe it was never meant to be.

You don't know if he tried calling or texting, tried reaching out to fix thing after it was already long broken beyond repair, you made sure he couldn't find you as best you could, wanting to leave that chapter of you life, that chapter of sorrow, behind. You wanted to move on.

Has he moved on?

Has he already forgotten you? Did he even care or did he just go bury himself deep inside someone else?

You met someone a few months after leaving, a kind man who took you out on dates without you needing to ask, told you look nice, beautiful, gorgeous. A kind man who went to you friend's wedding, your work parties, accompanied you when you visited your mothers grave. He is everything you could ask for and more.

A warm, bright smile spread across your face, so big it hurt. When was the last time you smiled like this? He took you out on a date, a bar to celebrate your new promotion to a higher branch, he told you how proud he is of you. Just the two of you, enjoying each other's company like nothing else in the world mattered.

Both of you blissfully unaware of a certain militray man looking you across the bar with his friends, a look in his eyes like his world was burning down around him, as he watched the two of you, like he lost the most valuable and precious thing in the world.

But that was lost when you left him, leaving nothing those letters behind. It was lost when he didn't fight for you, when he didn't treat you right.

It was lost when you said enough was enough. He never tried, he put his work first, put his own selfish desires and needs before yours. He was never there, he was always with on a job or with someone else, he was never there to love you, to cherish you, he was never there when you needed him but you alwasy made sure you were there when he needed you.

And he lost you because of it.

Now he's watching you from across a bar, his friend drunkly chatting but he's not listening, he's watching you get everything you ever wanted, everything he never gave you gettting given to you by a different man. A better man.

A man who he will never be.

#cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod men x reader #cod mw x reader #john price x reader #john price x you #captain price x reader #captian price x you #captian john price x reader #nikolai x reader #cod nikolai x reader #nikolai cod x reader #call of duty nikolai x reader #nikolai call of duty x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro x reader #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #rudy parra x reader

[consistencynevermether]

Breaking down walls- Astarion x reader

Astarion x "uses humor to cope" reader, second person POV, 1.4k words, gn reader

tw- Mentions of Cazador, nothing else really?

a/n- ive been so obsessed with this little dude i love him sm. this is my first time writing fanfic online so any advice is welcome :)

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You had never been good at genuine emotions. It was always so much easier to joke about such things, as a way to make people feel less shitty about their situation than to actually talk about the reality of things.

It’s what you had done with Karlach, making up all sorts of outrageous stories about the fun you and your best friend could get into once she was free from the furnace that burned inside of her. Even though deep down you had no idea how to free her from the flames. 

You had done it with Gale, making up jokes about his stereotypical “wizards tower” whenever he was feeling down about Mystra. Even though deep down you had no idea how he was supposed to cope with what she demanded of him. 

It was easy to joke. To make people feel good and laugh for a short amount of time. That’s what you told yourself. 

But the truth was, the alternative was hard. Feelings, reality, genuine bonds, they all meant you had to put down your walls. And the other person had to do the same. And deep down, you feared letting down your walls for someone, only for them to keep theirs up. 

It was probably why you liked Astarion so much. While you put up a front of jokes, he puts up a front of flirty advances. Both of you knew you were putting on an act, yet neither minded. Neither dared try to climb the other's wall. 

And so the two of you formed a bit of a routine, he would flirt, and you would tease. Both of you dancing around how you really felt like leaves fluttering in the wind. A subtle glance there and a stray brush of the fingers here made you think, or maybe hope, that he really felt something for you. Just a little. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on your part. 

But he’d never seen the sadness in your eyes when he would say those sweet words to you, both knowing he didn’t mean them. And if you had any say in it, he never would. It was better that way. Easier. Safer. And you’d be damned if you ruined the current relationship you had with him. Because at least you got to be close. A few genuine words among a sea of deception was far better than him shutting you out completely. Better savor what little you can have than lose it all right? 

That had been your mantra, right up until that night. 

You had had a bout of insomnia the night before, and so you had offered to take the first watch tonight. You'd hoped staying up extra late meant that after your watch you would instantly crash and hopefully fix your sleep schedule a little. 

It had started a little before midnight, you had heard Astarion mumbling something under his breath, tossing and turning. You had heard somewhere that elves only sleep for about 4 hours, so you figured it was best to leave him be. He’d be up soon anyway. 

And that plan worked fabulously. For about 5 minutes until the mumbles became more like cries for help. You knew what, or rather who he was dreaming about, and it hurt to see him in so much pain. 

Lifting yourself up from the rock you were seated on, you made your way to shake him awake, only for Astarion to shoot upright as you were about to grab his shoulder. 

Your eyes met, only inches apart, your face filled with mild shock and his with horror. 

Quickly recovering, you took a step back, giving him proper space so as to not add to his obvious terror. Unfortunately for you, trying to get away meant stumbling over your own crouched form and landing on your rear with a yelp. 

For a second you both sat there, you not daring to even breathe too loudly. while he looked at you in slight confusion, though that was mostly covered by the blinding terror still on his face.

You sat there in silence for a few more moments, before your brain finally kicked in and you realized you needed to say something, now. Preferably without sounding like a complete lunatic, freak, or wackjob.

“I-“ 

you open your mouth to speak, but Astarion beats you to it, his velvety voice cutting through your uncertain, cracking tone. 

“You know, you’re not the first person I’ve left speechless, although normally it’s for quite a different reason.” 

Astarion's tone was playful, but the slight shake in his voice was obvious. Once again, you couldn’t see beyond the walls he had built.

“Anyways love, sorry for disturbing your watch. Feel free to go b-“

“I was thinking of what to say.”

Your sudden interruption earned an eyebrow raise from the pale elf. 

“That hard for you darling? Maybe because you’re stunned by how beautiful I look when asleep?” 

He was giving you a way out. A way to laugh this all off and pretend like it never even happened the next morning. If it were any other time you might have taken it. If you didn’t see the fear in his eyes. If you didn’t see the way his hands were still shaking. If deep down, you didn’t want to break down your walls for him. 

Before you could think better of it, you opened your mouth. 

“I could say that Cazador can’t hurt you anymore. That you're safe here. But you're clearly hurting, so that isn’t true.” 

Now it was Astarion’s turn to look shocked. He hadn’t mentioned the dream was about Cazador but he didn’t have to. You knew all the same. He looked like he wanted to say something, to object maybe, but if you didn’t say what you wanted to say now you may never do it again. So you spoke again before he could.

“I could say that I’m going to rip that bastard limb from limb for you, but-“

You shrug and gesture vaguely to the camp around you. The supplies you all had managed to scrounge together, and your weary companions sleeping silently nearby 

“We don’t exactly have a plan now, do we? Hells we can’t even figure out how to be rid of this damn tadpole. So saying that’s definitely out, nobody wants to hear empty promises” 

A dry bark of laughter escaped Astarion,s lips, probably out of shock from your brutal honesty, but you weren’t done yet.

You opened your mouth one more time, voice shaky but eyes locked onto his all the same.

“I could-

I could tell you that I don’t know everything about your past. About what all he did to you. But I do know that whatever your future holds, I will be there. I will stand beside you and I will not leave. No matter what you choose I will support you. I will stay. And you will not go back Astarion. You will never go back under him. Not while I breathe. Not when you can still fight. You won’t do this alone, I swear that to you.”

And just like that you had broken down your walls. There were no jokes, no double meanings, no way out of it. Because despite the fear, you wanted to be seen. And you wanted to see him too. Not the act that he put up, but the real genuine version of him, scars and all. 

Astarion looked at you in silence, it was his turn to be rendered speechless. Despite all your bravado before, this was terrifying. Honestly, jumping into a pit of hungry manticores seemed more appealing than this current conversation. You looked down at the ground, unable to hold his gaze any longer. A million thoughts ran through your mind, but no matter what you wouldn’t take it back. You couldn’t go back to stealing glances at him and smiling at his honeyed words, secretly wishing he’d meant them. Not again, you just ca-

A cool hand against yours stopped your train of thought right in its tracks. 

Long, slender, Pale fingers wrapped around yours. And your mind went silent.

You whipped your head up to Astarion, but he wasn’t looking your way. His eyes were focused on the horizon, not even stealing a glimpse in your direction. But he gently weaved your fingers together more. His grasp was firm, yet still slightly shaking. 

A crack in his wall. A start. A glimpse at the real Astarion you so desperately wished to see. 

You sat together in silence. Your hands never left each other's grasp, not until you were eventually overtaken by sleep.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion romance #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x mc #bg3 astarion #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate 3 astarion #astarion fic

[sea-owl]

You want inspiration? I will give you inspiration! My prompt is basically based on both Han Christen Anderson tale of the Little Mermaid as well as the Disney version.

Prompt: Mermaid Penelope began to fall in love with a traveler named Colin who she rescued from drowning in the thunderstorm. Determined to be with her new love, she makes a dangerous deal with the sea witch Cressida Cowper to become mortal for three days in exchange of her voice for the pair of legs to make the prince fall in love with her. However, there’s a catch, everytime her foot touches the ground she will feel as if she’s walking on broken glass.

Oh, I have an idea. Let me tweak this a little bit.

Penelope was born a siren. She was born a siren with a beautiful voice and talent for words. One would always need that when you sang about someone's most desired wish after all.

Like the rest of her pod Penelope used her voice to hunt mortal sailors. But unlike the rest of her pod Penelope only hunted a specific kind of mortals. Those who have harmed others such as that coward Fife who would use women and then have them tossed over when he was done.

Penelope always wished she could have done more for those women then just avenging their deaths, but there are rules she had to follow. Her mother, Portia, had made sure Penelope had them memorized before she was ever let out from under her mother's fin.

Rule #1: Sirens do not save mortals; they only hunt them.

Rule #2: Never hunt without your pod.

Rule #3: Never fall in love, especially with a demigod. It never ends well for the siren.

"So how did I break two rules in one night?" Penelope wondered to herself, staring down at the demigod in front of her.

Physically she knew how she broke two rules.

The sea god was gracious enough last night to warn his subjects of the incoming storm, canceling the hunt.

Storms were for scavengers, not hunters. The winds would drown out their voices.

But Penelope was determined. The ship they had coming through was rumored to have a man on it that Penelope would very much like to hunt.

It would only be fair; he took Felicity away from her. She'll take his life.

Penelope could do this. She wouldn't be aiming for the whole ship, that was for pod hunts. No, she just wants that one man.

In the end she didn't even get a chance to drown him. The storm had wrecked the ship and sent everyone overboard. Penelope swam around the pieces of the wreckage, that man would not even get a chance to make it out of this alive.

"There you are," Penelope grinned.

Geoffrey Albansdale, the human mortal that took her baby sister.

Penelope swam towards him, ready to rip out his throat.

A splash and two new smells assultated Penelope's senses.

Demigods. Fucking perfect.

There were two, a man a few older than her who was struggling to swim himself and a girl to the surface.

The girl would have been the same age as Felicity.

No! No saving mortals, especially demigods! She needed to finish her hunt and leave. Before Penelope could start swimming again, the man had stopped fighting. His limbs going still.

They were both going to drown.

Someone else was already swimming Albansdale back to the surface.

"Damn!" Penelope cursed, using all her strength to swim towards the demigods. Grabbing both, it was easier than detaching the man, she dragged them to the surface.

Now here she is, sitting in the sand, wondering where the hell she went wrong. It's not like she could even demand they take her to Albansdale when they woke up.

Violet, the meddlesome love goddess, had cursed sirens by taking their voices and tails when they were on land. She also made it so every step they took felt like walking on glass. The only way to break it was true loves kiss, or so the rumors say.

"That childish goddess has dreams of everyone finding love," Portia had scoffed when Penelope asked why sirens didn't go on land. "We sirens only need mortal men for two things."

Penelope was taken out of her thoughts by the man opening his eyes, they were green. "Oh," he breathed out. Then he did the strangest thing. He laughed.

"Well, going out in that storm wasn't very well thought of, was it Hyacinth?"

The girl groaned and rolled onto her side. "Shut up Colin."

The man now dubbed Colin laughed again. He turned towards Penelope. "She's mad that I was right."

Penelope could only stare in confusion. Maybe there was something wrong with this demigod? Penelope peaked into his psyche. (What you thought sirens automatically knew a person's desire?)

Penelope sees a man who hungers for a purpose, who loves fiercely, and loyally. A man Penelope would never hunt.

Colin leans closer, and his mind flashes through Penelope's.

Shit, Penelope just broke rule number three, and with the son of the love goddess of all people.

#me? adding more elements of the odyssey into their story? #more likely than you think #little siren au #polin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #don't come for me about sirens being bird women #homer never physically described them outside their voices #bridgerton #siren penelope #demigod colin

[blissfulalchemist]

WIP Week Start

Was tagged by: @unholymilf @florbelles @strafethesesinners and maybe a few others that got lost along the way apologies. Tagging in turn those three and @belorage @heroofpenamstan @adelaidedrubman @statichvm @jackiesarch @confidentandgood @leviiackrman @shellibisshe @roofgeese @indorilnerevarine @themarcspector and anyone else that wants to/has something they want to share!

I’ve heard people like Stasia and Sib so please have a little more of their fabulous relationship. We also all can do with something lighter after the last piece of work. Endwalker spoilers truly like this is all post that.

“So you know the identity of said soul?” Krile asks, “With absolute certainty.” Siberite nods, “Well that certainly makes things a little complicated.”

The group turns quiet, Siberite crossing her arms, “If only there was a way to locate their soul in the sea.”

“That’s to even assume their soul still resides there. They could very well be sundered and we don’t know how to bring back their memories like an Ascian,” Krile points out, Sib’s eyes going wide.

“Wait….I think I may know someone that can help,” she whispers, “If anything we can get confirmation on if their soul is here or in the sea!” The two look at her curiously, “Just trust me….and grab your coats. It’s gonna be cold.”

“No.”

“No?” Siberite whines, “Come on, Stasia, please?” 

“Please, you say?” The warrior nods, “Well in that case….No.”

Siberite lets out a groan, Raha looking down at Krile, “Well I can see why her and Emet-Selch were close.” He looks back up catching the eyes of Jullus, who simply shakes his head in warning.

“Why? It’s just a tiny little favor. One thing and I promise I’ll be out of your hair.”

Stasia pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing, “No you won’t. Because by damning my mentor do I take on his curse of never knowing peace.” The woman leans against the table, arms crossed, “Even if I wanted to help, which I don’t, I can’t.”

“I thought you could, you know,” Sib starts waving her hands in front of her eyes, “see souls like he could.”

“One,” she starts, raising a hand counting off, “I cannot see souls like him. It takes a great deal of energy to do so and even then it’s like singular threads, unless they are unsundered or on their first life. Two, even if it was something I was stronger in and I felt inclined to help you, I never met this person so how the hell am I supposed to know just what I’m looking for.”

“But I’m pretty sure they’re Hyth-.”

“Oh gods, you realize I didn’t just follow you the entire time in Elpis? I did explore and I listened in on other matters.”

“Well do you have any ideas on how we could possibly look for them?”

“No, so go.” The warrior hangs her head, her friends assuring that it was worth a shot. She looks up at Jullus who stands in a corner, jaw tight and arms crossed, cocking a brow. Stasia growls, grumbling as she stands straighter. “Wait!” She calls the group stopping and turning slowly as she looks within the drawers for something, “There is one other possibility, it is, however, a potential long shot.”

“I mean we’ll take a long shot,” Siberite says slowly, “but why change your mind on helping us?”

“Jullus is giving me the look that I should at least feign sympathy to one’s problems,” the young man sighs, shaking his head. She turns holding up a lavender crystal reminiscent of those that were a part of The Convocation, simply lacking a constellation. “I found this among Emet-Selch’s things, I didn’t have the faintest idea just who it could be for until our trip to Elpis. Everything fell into place.” 

“Is that-?”

“Yes. We both know how stupidly sentimental the man was. Why he made it when he had full belief in his plan coming to fruition is a question we will never know the answer to.” Stasia tosses the crystal, the warrior diving for it, “I never saw someone be ascended, but the concept seemed to be that you just needed to have the memory be strong enough to elicit the emotional reaction from the soul. With your power of the Echo this shouldn’t prove too difficult to figure out.”

“And if we can’t use the memory in the crystal?”

“You could try a more aggressive memory. Something I could assist you with.”

Sib rolls her eyes, “Oh you would just love that wouldn’t you?”

Stasia gives a half attempted smile, “If that’ll be all, I ask that you leave.”

“Uhm how do you expect us to find him? He could be anywhere in the world.”

“He’s in Ishgard,” she says, not looking up from the papers that gained her attention. “He was here, helping in the restoration of some of the houses here. Is that enough information to suffice?”

“Only because I assume that’s all you’re going to give us,” the warrior turns to Raha and Krile, “Guess it’s off to Ishgard. Maybe we’ll get lucky and Aymeric or Lucia will have a list of people that were here for the restoration.”

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

He clutches his head, mask bouncing down the stone steps, letting out a rough scream, falling to his knees. Siberite’s jaw tightens once she’s picked it up off the floor, daggers piercing Stasia, “Are you fucking SERIOUS right now? I told you we weren’t going to use those painful memories to try and ascend him!”

“He’s fine,” she says, pointing with her chin in his direction, “Your friends have him.”

“Fine?! FINE?! You call that fine? He’s traumatized!”

Stasia rolls her eyes, “It would have taken you longer to pinpoint a memory that was less so. I sped up the process.”

“You just wanted to hurt the man! You brought your own selfish agenda into this and look at what you’ve done!”

“I did not! I did the most efficient thing to awaken the old soul.” She crosses her arms, lips pursed, “Did your pure Mother Hydaelyn not do the same to you to bring back that precious Echo of yours? What makes this any different?”

“We don’t-. I-I mean-. Ugh!” Siberite growls loudly, “That is not the fucking point and you know it!”

“What is the point then?”

“He may not be able to help us or anyone else again for that matter. You could have permanently damaged him.”

“Pity, the self proclaimed useless man is in fact rendered useless.” 

“God Stasia! Could you not put your hatred for the man aside for this one instance? There was no logic to what you just did! You did it out of pure cruelty.”

“Is waking the memories of Hythlodaeus without this man’s full knowledge not a cruelty in its own right? Neither you nor I have any idea just how much he saw in the Final Days, so even if you did go through in finding a sugary, sickeningly, happy memory to ascend him you’d be bringing back all those memories too.”

Sib’s teeth grind a moment before barking out another argument, prompting Stasia to snap in response, repeating the cycle. Krile and Raha shake their heads, looking back at Laelius, his shoulders shaking as he struggles to catch his breath. Raha gently puts a hand on him, “Laelius, can you hear me?” 

#my wip tag #these two are just something so special and i am here for it #ffxiv #unholymilf #florbelles

[stevenxblackwell]

Closed for: @jonahgarlandLocation: Blackwell Cabin It was a nice idea to transfer the entire business to a damn island… if people were ok with permanent heat, sweating and the occasional mosquitoes that would bother the living shit out of everyone. For Steven Blackwell, tropical islands were best in small dosages. Not a permanent form of residence. He understood that the sun and sea were inviting but there was nothing wrong with the sound of rain on the window or a nice fireplace when the weather was cold. To each, their own. Steven scoffed as he read the response from the little shit he had invited over, unable to prevent his own eyes from rolling at the words exchanged. My name is Jonah. Actually, his name was whatever the fuck Steven wanted to call him. Pets and staff members had no wants. At least, back in his day, the only thing that a staff member wanted was to please whoever called for them – obviously happy for being deemed worthy of someone else’s time and money. Something that Steven had an inkling that this Jonah Pipsqueak would not do.

Without even skipping a beat, he shot another text to the staff member – something along the lines that he couldn’t be bothered with names and to enter once he arrived for the door would be open. He had met plenty of these in the past. Steven tossed the phone to a nearby chair and took a deep breath – choosing to actually do something productive with his time: a nice fresh shower followed by picking some trinkets he had snatched from one of the dungeons. That was the Pipsqueaks’ opportunity to impress him. Right there laying on a table – from whips to floggers, to dildos and plugs, handcuffs, ballgags and nipple clamps. If he was paying to be pleased, that shitty Pipsqueak would have no other option but to play by his rules… and hopefully so something interesting. If he yawned even if once… that little shit would be tossed out the door faster than the garbage men took care of things. All he needed to do now… was wait. And not end up disappointed.

#( location: blackwell cabin ) #jonahgarland

[xxgothchatonxx]

8 days until the new year & I’m finally moving on. The last time I did this was in MAY! Okay, I’m scared but let’s do this! WE’RE BACK, BABEYYYYY

And the Beast from the Sea:

* HE MONCHHHHHH

* “He ATE IT?” “He ate it up.” God, I love this show.

* Ohhhh Alana looks yummyyyyyyyyy

* “Jack Crawford, fisher of men, watching my cork move against the current. You got me again.” This shows writing is so dramatic & we just hit the first minute.

* I’ve missed therapy. & this session is great! So explorative, evocative!

* REBA, MY LOOOOOOVE!

* I love the idea that the dragon & Francis are now disconnected after Reba. She’s his coil to humanity, & the Dragon craves her. Amazingggg

* YOU CAN TOSS THE DRAGON TO SOMEONE ELSE??

* God, Richard Armitage, I love how you move! Such a clear shift. So instant.

* HANNIBAL, LEAVE THEM ALL ALONE!!! DONT PLANT ANYTHING!!! HOW DARE YOU???

* WHY THE HELL DID THE “Kill them all?” SHOT HAVE YOU STARE INTO MY SOLE, MADS?? WHY??

* I’m sorry, what is with this season 2 score?

* OKAY IVE MISSED THIS BUILDUP! Ohhh, wings and the tail! Fun!

* Reba & Francis!!! MY FAVS!!!

* Cue my plotting to murder family #3 home video

* NOT THE DOGGIESSSS!

* “I’m not fortunes fool—I’m yours.” YALL

* HANNI IS JUST IN HIS LITTLE SEXY GLASS TWIRLING HIS HAIR WHEN WILL SHOWS UP & PLAYING HIS LITTLE IRL D&D STRATEGY GAME & I can’t blame him. But he should stick to his dusty books,

* OH HE’S SO SASSY!!!

* “There’s a family out there who don’t know who’s coming.” Yeah, William, & I hate to say it, but it’s YOURS!💔

* DONT PSYCHOANALYZE HIM, HANNIBAL!

* “Social media, I imagine. Cant be too careful with privacy settings.” STFUUUUU HE’S SUCH A BITCHY LITTLE MAN!

* LE GASP! I REALLY GOTTA FINISH THESE THINGS. “And I’m not letting them die, Will. You are.” SHUT THE FUCK UPPPPPPP, YOU BASTARD MAN!

* WAKE UP BABE, THE MURDER TEETH JUST DROPPED!

* OH I AM LOVING THISSSSSSSSSSSS

* HE IS REALLY STALKING IN HIS FUCKING LEATHER STRAIGHTJACKET!

* I LOVE THISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

* OH FUCK FUCIN FUCK FFUCJ NO NO NO

* WILLIAMMMMMMM😭😭😭😭

* “You gonna kill him?” “No.” WILLIAM, YOU COULD NOT BE MORE WRONG

* THIS POOR KID OMGGGGGG

* “I had to justify myself to an 11 year old.” Damn, William, sorry.

* MOLLYYYYYYYYYY (totally forgot her name so I’m happy Will said it a few second ago)

* HANNIBAL BASTARD MAN LECTER WITH YOUR LITTLE FUCKING BOOK

* OH ALANAAAAAAAAA, MY MYYYYYYY

* “Would you have told me the truth?” “I’m my own way, I always have.” YEAH, LIKE A FUCKING BASTARD, YOU BASTARD MAN!

* Oh, a surprise guest in Jack!

* Hannibal “Trans Rights” Lecter part 2

* I am laughing way to hard at Sexy Glass Cell Hannibal. “You have hubbed hell, Dr. Lecter.” “I often do.” I LOVE THIS BASTARDDDDD

* OHHH THE TAILLLLLLLL

* Oh they are not the best of friends anymore!!!

* Francis, PLEASE STOP

* OH THE WINGSSSSS WHERE ARE WE??

* OHHHHH OF COURSE, QUEEN REBA!

* OHH I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!!! THEY ARE SO GOOD TOGETHER!!!!

* DAMN, GET YOUR FUCKING HAT, FRANCIS!!!! This is why we can’t have nice things! YOU MADE HER CRY!!!!!😭😭😭😭

* Stupid fucking dragonnnnnn

* Oh, this aught to be a very educational moment.

* “(SOBBING OVER THE LINE??)”

* OH THAT VOCAL SHIFT IS MAGNIFICENT

* A sweet man💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

* HANNIBAL NO YOU MOTHERFUCKERBHRHSHIRHRHRBFB OH MY FUCKING GOD

* I LOVE THIS JACKKKKKK

* & yummy Alana OH & INDIGNANT HANNIBAL

* I never would have thought that quick shot of Hannibal turning his head with that mask would be when HIS TOILET WAS BEING TAKEN OH MY GOOOOOD IT’S WHAT YOU DESERVE, BUDDY

* Heyyyy, Molly’s awakeeeee

* Molly, this is NOT the self-blame game! Piling on Jack doesn’t count! Negative points!

* OH WILLIAM Bby nooo STOP CRYING PEOPLE, IM GONNA CRYYYY

* OH WILLIAM’S GOT HIS REVENGE EYES ON OH FUCK WE GOT A MIRROR (mirroring movements, not a mirror for the trick, that was just the fade) WALK TO HANNIBAL OHHH THAT WAS NICE

* STOP BEING SO HIGH BROW, BASTARDDDDD

* “Save yourself. Kill them all. Then I gave him your home address.” FUCKING HELL, NOT CRYPTIC BUT VERY BITCHY BASTARD OF YOU, BASTARD

* REVENGE EYES TO “I’m bored, let’s have some fun” ASSHOLE

* I don’t know if I like that this mirror isn’t directly equal. I get the ✨symbolism✨ of Hannibal finally being caught & pushed into the corner of indignity & Will inching closer to rip him to shreds, but it’s Not Equallll

* All thanks to you, Hanni.

* We have crave change, Hannibal, but not in a “let’s go murder our neighbors” kind of change

* SIIIIIIIIIIIGH FUCK THIS FELT LIKE IT TOOK FOREVER BUT GOD HAVE I MISSED IT!!! Want to keep watching, but I have a movie date with the twin

(Video reaction will be turned into a 40 second audio & I’ll send it over to you!)

I love that this is the third adaptation of Red Dragon but I was still like "HOLY SHIT WHAT?!" when watching this episode.

Speaking of which, now you're going to be up to hands-down one of the most unintentionally hilarious (or maybe it is funny- knowing Bryan, he probably wanted it to be a bit funny..) episodes I've ever seen of any TV show 😂

#myst is me #hannibal #Myst and Nat presents Hanni & Friends

[3realmsgame]

So I just picked up the Visustella lighting plug-in and while it's very nice to have something I won't have to worry about compatibility issues with, uhhhh it kind of sucks that there doesn't seem to be a way to alter the color presets in the plug-in parameter settings

Obviously I'm fussy as fuck about colors, and I like a dark purple over the blue shadow shade that rpgmaker lighting plug-ins always seem to favor; it creates a more natural look and doesn't do weird or gross things to most of the colors in my pallette (such as washing them out or "greening" the yellows). This is a preference I've arrived at after eighteen years of experimentation with different overlaid shading colors in my comics.

(also, and I did test this, it looks nicer interacting with the light settings)

so that basically means I'm gonna be pasting in the hexadecimal numbers every time I want a darkness overlay and won't really be able to use the shorthand of the presets.

Mostly it's just annoying, but the Community Lighting plug-in lets you go in and change the preset colors in the parameters, even if you do basically have to keep track of daylight hours there.

Not sure where to complain about this besides here tbh XD

#gamedev #three realms game #rpgmaker project #Listen I gotta depend on other ppl's plug-ins bc I'm code dyslexic #Which is to say blended dyslexia and dyscalculia that mostly gets worse when I'm tired or looking at Javascript #And that is why I'm willing to pay for shit #But damn to be tossed on the sea of someone else's ideas #Maybe I'll whine about it in the suggestion box see if that gets me anywhere

[mussedechocolate]

❛❛ HOT BITCH 𖤣𖥧𖡼

wattpad: @K4WARAGI

(🗣️ translation for @thegaylesbain — sorry my english sucks)

‼️ ˑ ִ ֗ pairing！Violet (Vi) × female reader.

💬 ˑ ִ ֗ theme！Summer is wearing you out and a cold shower wouldn't hurt, but your girlfriend seems intent on distracting you.

‼️ ˑ ִ ֗ tw + extra warnings！english is not my first or second language, all over 18, overstimulation, begging and begging, nipple game, impact game (implicit), unprotected sex, clitoris neglect, body worship and degradation, cunt spitting, sexual themes , fucking her until her mind goes white, Vi and Y/N dom and sub, Vi has a tongue piercing, established relationship, swallowing cum, pet names (princess, sweetie, etc...), obscenity, profanity , sucking clitoris until it sticks to mouth, pulling clitoris, fingering, rubbing bodies, rolling in her and her face, suffocation, rubbing/crawling on her torso ☠️, writing name in her cunt, neglect of orgasm (implicit), denial to orgasm, overstimulation, throne position, implicit cunt description, dry penetration, oral (receive), riding over, raw + detailed description as well, possible scissors (fingers), squirt, muscle spasms, sex tape reference and Vi continues the game despite the fatigue and extreme by orgasm.

💬 ˑ ִ ֗ notes！the vi, she--- 🛐 🗣️ 🗣️ 🗣️

This year's summer was the hottest of the last ones the city had had, the sun was so bright and the streets were close to cracking, the beach seemed like the best idea to visit in this hot season and it wasn't just you and Vi who came up with this idea.

At the beach house, only you and Vi stayed when everyone else decided to go out into the sea. The summer air was damp, making your clothes stick to you like hot hell.

Vi was almost unbearable, complaining about the heat for you and a strange neediness on your part—not that it was unusual, quite the contrary!

"I'm hot!"

"Go to the sea"

"I already went and it didn't work" she complains with a fluffy beak, devouring another slice of watermelon you cut.

"Let's take a cold shower then," you suggest to her, who stares at you with an interested expression as she nods.

You get up from the kitchen table as soon as you finish your plate, letting you know that you're going to prepare your bath now. Vi follows you a little further behind, already taking off her clothes as they walk to the room they shared in the house and which had a bathroom. This bathroom was the biggest quarrel in the house — almost someone left without their heads when they decided to let the coin decide.

"Dude, we got along fine with the tail" you commented, referring to the side of the coin you chose to toss.

"Really" Vi agreed as he pulled his dark pants down; you did the same as you shed your pale wash denim shorts and then your sleeveless blouse, feeling your skin peel away from the fabric and a sigh of freedom escaping your sweetened lips. "I'm going to get you some bathing stuff," you call out before stepping out in your underwear and Vi subtly agrees with a move.

You find her silence strange, but ignore it as you walk to the suitcase they've packed. Another feature of the room, which for some reason everyone went crazy when they saw it, was the floor-to-ceiling mirror, decorated with some natural ornaments and that shone when the sun shone through the window in front of the room.

You liked him and stopped in front of him, making a few poses for yourself and forgetting what you came to do there. Only minutes later, when Violet suspected your delay and left your clothes behind to check that everything was okay, did she come across you sensing in front of the mirror. She laughed out loud at you, scaring you a little, but nothing a kiss on the cheek could calm you down. Approaching from behind she speaks in a casually playful tone:

"Damn, my hot girlfriend is doing just fine" Violet praised you in front of the shared bedroom mirror, admiring you all over and putting her kinky hands on your waist, wrapping her muscular arms around you and dropping a kiss on your bare shoulder. You laugh a little, stroking the girl's pink strands.

Her hands roam the curves subtly marked by the fabric of her violet bra — in clear reference to her girl — and pull the beam away, letting the fabric fall down her arms to the floor, revealing her breasts just before her. fill your hands with her flesh gently and press your palm against the hardened beak. Her fingers swirl around her nipples and the gelatinous muscle licks her neck subtly. Her eyes stare at your reactions in front of the mirror, knowing exactly where to suck on your neck to give you shivers and sweet flare-ups. A luxurious glow shared between you as the fabric feels damp against her callused fingers and she revels in the sensation, tracing her arousal into figure eights with her fingertips.

"Vi…" you try to warn, but your body is treacherous with your reactions.

"Let's do this real quick, sweetie" Vi whispers in her ear, her eyes still reflecting her longings in the mirror's reflection as she slides her panties down her legs and strokes the shiny slit.

Whimpers echo off the bedroom walls, her heavy lids barely opening as her fingers brush her clit in slow circles. Her moans falling from her honey-sweet mouth at the bottom of Vi's ear. Her limp body swivels around to face her, her arms wrap around Vi's neck and her legs buckling around his hips, pussy tightening around his thick fingers. Violet's rough fingers began to speed up, drenched with your stain, hitching inside you, whispering sweet praises and chaste kisses across your bare breasts as your fingers trailed against your walls, touching sweet, sensitive spots.

She kissed her cheek before stumbling towards the messy bed. She was a chaotic mess of love to give.

Vi grabbed the back of her shirt, pulling it over her head at once, revealing her tattoos, her ripped body, and her breasts. Her face is red from both the scene and the hot situation; very common among you. She knows you well enough to know what you're feeling right now as she rubs her thighs together, her eyes hovering over her body as she misses your strong hands massaging her skin. You feel a shadow form in front of her, Vi is hovering over you, his arms braced on the bed and a mischievous smile decorating the girl's lips before catching hers in a sweet kiss with a mixture of ulterior motives.

"Kiss me," Violet orders, sighing the words against her mouth, the hot air rushing into her throat. Her tongue dips into her mouth, moans left on her lips between the slow, sensitive strokes against the piercing she has, unlike the aggressive fingers in her tight hole.

"I saw--... Violet!" her name comes out of her mouth like a breathless song; Vi's favorite. She's so used to just 'Vi' that she's gotten used to her name coming out that fucked-up way down her throat. And suddenly she ceases her fingers, her hole squeezing around nowhere as her hands brace on either side of her face confused by the sudden stop "Scream my name again when I write it princess"

"Want to write your name on me?" you ask for confirmation, watching your girlfriend descend, taking in the perfect sight in her eyes. No confirmation was needed, just that smile on her perfect mouth said it all. Vi's warm hands roam like running water down her torso until they pin her hips against the mattress, immobilizing her.

She loves watching you, your reactions, your knowing smile, your caresses and touches on the shoulders, massages and late-night conversations. And she definitely loves it when she's warm between her thighs, holding each side so she doesn't get trapped.

Your sweet mouth gathering enough saliva to spit into your pussy and spread it all over your folds, the small metal ball scraping your sensitive bud against her hot and cold touch and you give her the begging delight of your name, forbidden prophecies leaving yours mouth and etching itself on the walls and its erupting skin. Lifting your hips higher until his tongue experienced against her G-spot and felt the touch of her nose to her clit, feeling the thin gold ring against her skin. Every move she makes, you react with more sobs and disjointed phrases. "Scream for all to hear, kitten" Vi challenges you, pushing his tongue against your doomed limit and you do.

Each letter dragged through her pussy being slowly whipped so that it stays etched for a while, that her smooth touch is the only reminder of her as she gets fucked to the end of the world by Violet. Her pussy melting on her lips harder with each shaped letter and she knows you'll never forget the vibration of the letters in you.

Vi feels that your body is weakening, your hips now needing your hands pulling you up to keep hitting all your spots and you beg him to make you come — your resistance is slowly dying as your breathing slows to a steady rhythm when Vi presses the piercing harder on her button and her hands grip the messy, painted strands, desperate for more. Her heart was so rampant and utterly crazy pumping more blood, adrenaline and euphoria to her foggy mind with each lick, and all that could be heard now were the sounds of whimpering and greedy gasps. Her body spasms and her fingers twitch with the sensation expanding beyond its limits, gummy splatters coming out of her core overstimulated by Vi, spilling the pearly goo over Vi's hot face; she continued pulling on her clit, moistening her folds, kissing her pussy as she held her legs over her shoulders, squeezing the flesh and rubbing her cheek against the inside, the glow in her slit seeping through the skin and making the region even more sensitive captures the muffled breath against you.

Sometimes you can feel her shock when she touches you, her neediness can be groped in the air when she's feeling braver than usual, closer and wanting more and more from you.

She wants more.

You know she wants it.

Violet was so obvious sometimes.

"Vi... you --... a-ah! Shi-shit..." her body shudders more than once as Vi gently brings his fingers to her clit to touch them, but she never does. "We'll do something different today" she mumbles against your cunt, her voice makes your entire body unsteady and you look directly at her perfect facial expression. "Ride my face princess" Vi says so naturally it's like you've done this before, but it would be her first time riding it. A nervousness builds in her body as she thinks about it as quickly as possible, barely noticing her thighs curling around her waist, hips raised high and their faces close together. "Please…" she insists with a tearful expression. How to deny her something?

"Right…"

You give in to her, letting her lie down and look at you defiantly, hoping you'd get the attitude and climb into her pretty face. Snorting in a mixture of shame and fear, you crawled up to his face like a frightened cat and got to your knees, gently dropping each one on either side of Vi's head and slowly letting your weight fall on it until your cunt was touching your mouth. "A-ah, fuck…" you held back the feeling of being on top and Vi loving being mounted like that, gently rubbing your body over it, your hips moving in slow motion as he licked and drooled over you. She appreciates your thoroughness and you appreciate your synchronized movements.

It was a new and fucking good feeling — a little weird too. Her body completely over Vi's face, her thighs are clamped tight around his head, and her pussy is so well placed over her mouth that her body represses with the goose bumps that shock her skin, her ass slamming against her chin. and you fear what would happen if you got out of balance there. Her hands cling to the headboard, afraid gravity and the feeling so strong of Vi with his mouth on her pussy pull you down. She stared at you with a certain pride that made you delirious and cursed herself as soon as she felt her lips open to devour you. "Fuck, I--...I feel so much better now," you mutter, sighing heavily knowing that Violet has been internally celebrating a sure-fire victory from the start. Her hands tighten more on the headboard, Vi has strong hands that know how to squeeze in the right places always and never misses one. Her fingers touch you like a gentle angel's touch, digging her fingers into your heated skin that would leave marks later, her mouth on your hot pussy, drawing all your melodious sounds from your lips even though you haven't even started to move yet. She would record them when she had the opportunity.

Without warning or anything like that to prepare you for who knows what would happen there, Vi leaves kisses on your groin and swirls his tongue around her swollen clit and immediately you force your hips against her lips, practically crushing her lips. lips over her folds. You could feel a smile against her pussy and then she moaned in frustration and pulled at her hair to feel more of his naughty mouth on her pussy. "Do something soon, please" you plead between sighs. You needed her fucking you like this, this feeling of being there on top of her face, rotating your hips over her tongue. Vi gave her slit a lick, the icy piercing causing goose bumps over her skin and then dove right through. Her tongue hits your sensitive clit and you gasp with every lash your tongue sends.

Her pace picks up and you can't hold back the high-pitched moan that wants to come out of your husky throat at all costs. You can't dare take your eyes off hers, so sensual and menacing at the same time. Her hands squeezing you even more as you move over her face, her thighs running down your face and the tip of her nose bumping against her sensitive nub. Her eyes narrow a little more, gasps coming out of her mouth as her voice echoes through her pussy and all over her body, enjoying the way her legs seem to be struggling to stay still as her tongue is about to make you come.

Vi sucks you like a bee that picks up honey and doesn't stop until it has collected every last drop of nectar it can — it's just the same. With a quicker movement, she pushed the tip of her tongue further down to his needy hole and fucked him like a god, continuing for a second to come and go over and over, and you have no backing away from it. Evil eyes of hers can stay open while she's gulping you down and her whimpers let your ego swell with sheer determination to fuck your pussy. Her body melts her harshness and she grabs her ass and pulls you up, eating you so well the point the galaxy will never get to the feet of what she made you see with every eye roll. Her uneven breathing mingled with her loud, uncensored moans that the rose delights in listening to every time she eats you, tears running down her face at how good she was, her breasts rising and falling without stopping. Droplets of sweat on their bodies glistening in the sunlight that seeped between the beam of the curtain and the drool trickling from their bubbling mouths that overflow with praise and misunderstood words.

Bright eyes focused on her reactions and expressions of pleasure, red face with furrowed brows as she's feeling the air slowly die away. Every now and then the occasional slap that would definitely mark your buttocks until next week was a formidable reminder of your pleasure and a brand of possessiveness Violet loved to leave in you, a kind of pleasure the two of you share. "I'm so close…" you whispered, your belly tightening even more as the metallic object pushed against you, forcing you to your apex, making you scream and leaving you in a mess of sweat and drool, your hands aching from holding the bedside, shaking like a crybaby for his girlfriend. Her voice cracked, her arms and legs trembling with the near arrival of her top. Vi holds your thighs tighter, preventing you from pulling out of her. Sweet spirals contract in her womb, muscles repressing with each strong jet you feel rush outward and trickle down her sticky walls. Vi feels your vision being covered with white spots and your back arching almost perfectly from the height of the pleasure she gives you as the melody of her moans engulfs your ears. Her eyes take in Vi's fucked-up face beneath you, your cream smeared over her face, running down her chin and her thighs. Vi's lips are covered in her sweet, swollen, red juice, she presses her lips together like she's putting on some lipstick, taking the maximum amount of cum and drinking it like water, feeling the taste spread across her taste buds.

And now you're so tired, your legs are so tense; you have the sensitivity after cum on vi's face. Her arms give up on you, causing you to fall face down beside her and your legs tremble relentlessly.

"You were so… wow, fuck, let's do it again" you laugh at her speech, which seems to have all the stars flashing across her face covered in her juices.

"We're really going to repeat this, but I want to try it too" you try to explain your strange new curiosity to feel Vi on your face, averting your eyes to the light that has crept into the room through the curtain.

You feel Vi's callused fingers trail over her face, pulling him away and meeting hers.

"Try training for now," she suggests heavily, her voice barely keeping up with her reasoning and her eyelids blinking several times to stay open.

"I can?" you shyly ask, your body being forced by your carnal desire to lean over her and Vi nods slowly with her head, feeling your body tighten your torso and let you stand over her like a true dominatrix.

"Start rolling over me, I like the friction" she directs you lazily and you sigh in embarrassment. Your girlfriend is a real pervert who doesn't get tired of talking even after she's finished with her tongue inside you.

Though you nod and tighten around her and hold her shoulders back so her back rests on the headboard, your hips strengthen movements so sensitive they were unbearable and Vi enjoys the friction of her pussy like a lazy yawn from an angel, a pretty smile spread across swollen lips and words of encouragement never stop a second from stepping out and finding your pride as the good girl you liked to be for your devoted girlfriend.

She tried so hard to see you well and you want to reward her as she likes.

Her body rose upward, her pussy rubbing against Vi's well-built torso, leaving a wet trail behind, his hands circling her breasts like ripe apples and tilting her body, opening her mouth to suck on her left nipple. "Fuck --..." she choked on her saliva, his body rising and falling over hers, his hands massaging her body in an unending impact of pleasure. The vibration of their hums through your nipple sent jolts of electricity to Vi, who tightened her grip on her waist, letting you do everything in her time, enjoying the ebb and flow of their bodies. Her fingertips dipped through his folds in shallow motions, strumming Violet's neglected entrance.

You move down her, sitting on her thigh and letting your fingers open her sweet folds to see the situation up close. She feels her body warring between laziness and bursting pleasure as his fingers penetrate her all the way, knuckles all inside her slippery walls, rhythmic scissors startling Vi and her eyes roll with pleasure, his hands mark her waist, crushing her cunt against the thigh.

Her name slipped from her mouth as her thumb pushed harder against her clit, making it clear how close she was to releasing.

The sounds of skin against skin, the sweat pooling on their heads, gasps and moans mingling in a musical of erotic sounds bump and come back against you and shivers surge through Violet's body. Her glowing eyes close, you feel the pressure of her legs drying around you, being forced open right away, and you let your other hand go down to Vi's other leg, preventing her from clenching her hands once. while he was there. Her orgasms came hard enough to drive his hand out, the slick and bittersweet molasses in her hand being brought to Vi's mouth and sucked on until they were cleaned by her.

"You did so well…" she praised once more, kissing his cheek tenderly.

"I thought we were going to take a cold shower… quick" you joke, laughing at the face your girlfriend made you.

"We can shower later and…maybe continue" she suggests in a lower tone and you frown.

"Dude, don't you ever get tired!?"

#arcane vi #vi x reader #lol vi x reader #vi x you #lol vi #violet #violet lol #vi supremacy #vi smut #vi arcane #vi arcane smut #arcane smut #english is not my first language

[omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts]

A Siren Song

Pairing: Robert Dubois/ Bloodsport x Reader

A/N: so I just finished watching the new Suicide Squad for the second time and I’m even more obsessed now than I was the first time I watched it. It’s a brilliant film with actually good humor, a non-sexualizing and actually empowering view on Harley Quinn (that leg scene?? y'all-), the rats?? Rat-catcher 2?? THE SHARK?? FLAG?? Who looked really good in this movie, he might be another contender for a story as well as Harley Quinn so lmk ;) but Bloodsport immediately piqued my interest because it’s Idris Elba and he’s gorgeous, I loved the complexities of his character and I want to write for him and no one else has done it yet?? so shoutout to @honey-im-emotional​​ for the support and push to do it! also love The Bodyguard movie, helped with the inspo <3 and i’m so sorry all of my stories are similar but I HAVE A TYPE enjoy and feedback is always appreciated loves and there will be SPOILERS so be warned, also if you want a Harley one next lmk ;) (it’s so long I’m so sorry lol)

Summary: You’re a highly targeted member of the royal family, the last in your line. Bloodsport is hired to be your bodyguard to both watch and assassinate the men after you. He believes it’s below his pay-grade, but reluctantly agrees, doing so to the best of his abilities. But the closeness brings more intimacy than you two expected, and sparks fly.

Warnings: foul language, sexual content, smut, choking, light bdsm, fluffy fluff, dirty dancing, dirty talk, violence and bad guys getting murdered, mentions of Harley x Reader (y’all sexy dance and kiss), reader likes women, dom! Bloodsport, age gap, alcohol consumption, jealousy, heavy kissing, slight angst, just a good time honestly

Word Count: 3,825

You dangle from the ceiling with your aerial silk, fitting your leg in the loop you’ve created, and dangling upside down. The rope wraps around your waist as you hang gracefully from your marble walls, flying. Your friend Harley Quinn taught you how to do this years ago, it now being your favorite form of exercise and relaxation when you need a moment to clear your head. 

As you lightly spin, twirling and dancing in the air with your chandelier reflecting light everywhere, a dazzling fairy floating in a sea of stars. You hear footsteps approach and move to hang upside down, facing towards the grand door. Robert Dubois, a.k.a Bloodsport, walks forward to stand directly in front of you. 

You have known him a few weeks or so now, him having to watch your every move and tracking down your family’s killers. He stands and meets your eyes as you dangle, hair falling below you.

“Hi,” you giggle, face flushed with heat. “I probably look ridiculous right now.”

He composes himself so he doesn’t crack a smile, but you see his lips twitch when he speaks, “No, Mrs. y/l/n.”

“I have a first name, you know,” you grin widely. “I’m younger than you, which hardly warrants such a professional title.”

“My apologies, y/n,” he fixes himself.

“It’s alright,” you ease, filling him with a sense of softness he hasn’t felt in a long time. You flip and land on your feet, letting go of your silks. 

You don’t notice as his eyes glaze over your body in your sports bra and shorts, something his cold, calculated stare should never succumb to, but he does anyway and he kicks himself for doing it. You’re his client and should therefore remain as such, no conflict of interest or thoughts other than to protect. He didn’t want this job, hell, he still doesn’t know why he said yes. Maybe it was the money. Or maybe it was upon seeing you that first time, in that star-studded gown the night of a charity gala you were attending, the way the diamond littered fabric hung over your figure, absolutely dazzled. The way you looked at him and smiled, like you were used to with all the other nobles and adoring fans. But he let himself believe it was different.

He can’t do that anymore, however, because he can’t allow for any complications. And falling for his boss is certainly a complication. 

You look at him and your eyes widen with realization, “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me cover up.”

You grab a tee shirt and toss it over your exercise clothes. He looks down as you do so and clears his throat. This brings a small smile to your face.  

“You called me in here,” he gestures to the necklace charm hanging around your neck that you can squeeze and send an instant distress signal whenever you need it. “What can I do for you, y/n?”

“Wanted you to spot me,” you tease, a smile overtaking your delicate features. You have a sort of stunning beauty about you that takes him by surprise every time he lays eyes on you. Which is often. You lay on your yoga mat and sit up straight with that same damned smile. 

“I’m here to do a job, y/n,” he says, his deep, honeyed voice coating the way he says your name like heat to sugar. “Not aid you in your workout routine.”

“What? Your assassin training didn’t include sit ups?” you smile, tongue in cheek.

“No, but if you need a way to kill a man with a book,” he presses a foot over both of yours as you begin to do sit ups. “Then I’m your man.”

“Yeah, you and John Wick,” you breathe out with a laugh. “And shouldn’t you be in here watching me already? Not by the door?”

“This room has no windows and no other door or entrance besides the one I was standing by. I thought you would want privacy,” he averts your gaze. “I’m sure it’s a hard thing to come by these days for a woman like yourself.”

You stop what you’re doing and look up at him, blinking, “Well, you’d be right,” you tuck your hair back. “So thank you.”

He meets your eyes, bordering on a smile, “You’re welcome.”

“Is that a smile I see?” you chuckle.

The smile shines, “It was a diversion. And you failed.”

You laugh loudly, “Will the next diversion be an actual laugh?”

“Wouldn’t be a proper diversion if you knew what it was.”

You tap his feet so he’ll get the hint and let you up. You rise to your feet and dust yourself up, “I appreciate your spotting.” You press a hand to his chest and hum. Warmth radiates from your palm and he inhales sharply. “For someone who wasn’t trained, you sure are a fast learner.”

He looks at your hand and back to your eyes, heat sprouting from where your hand touches. His hand flexes at his side as he looks around the room, to the door, seeing if it’s closed. 

“I-” he cocks an eyebrow then settles. “I think I should go.”

He watches you look at him with wounded eyes, brow lowered, you open your mouth then close it. 

You nod, moving away from him, “Right.”

You move to walk away when he stops you, mouth by your ear, voice dropping an octave when he whispers, “Just so you know-” you tilt your head up almost instinctively to hear him better. “-my assassin training did include reminding people who they are when they’ve forgotten their place.”

You look up at him fully now, “You work for me, remember?”

“I work for money. And you didn’t hire me. I was employed by Mrs. Waller to keep you alive,” he cocks his head slightly. 

“So it would be frowned upon by her when you’re unable to walk if you touch me like that again.”

You couldn’t believe he had just said that. Your eyes widen and your cheeks once again heat up, blushing. Your chest gets hot when he doesn’t break the stare like he’s calling your bluff, and fuck, did he do just that. You turn away from him.

You can hear the smile in his voice, “That’s what I thought.”

~~~

“Robert said that!?” Harley exclaims, eyes wide. Her jaw is dropped as she does her mascara aggressively in the mirror. “He’s usually so...”

You tug down your tiny halter top over your head, your bright, flattering makeup complementing the colorful swirling pattern, “An empty void with no emotion?”

She nods emphatically, agreeing, “Exactly! I had no idea he had it in him?” she raises her brow and smooths down her leather black and red dress, “Or that he wanted to put it in you-”

You slap her arm, chastising, “You don’t know that. It might have been a threat to actually paralyze me in a very not sexual way.”

“I say both are arousing,” she shrugs, platinum curls bouncing.

You roll your eyes with a small smile aimed at the floor, “Anyway-” you slip a belt through your tight jeans, hitting at your waist when you cinch it in. “We should get going if we want to get to the club on time.”

She pauses. “Y/n. Are you sure we should be doing this?”

You do a double take, “You’re telling me that we shouldn’t sneak out and have a good time?”

“I know the irony is apparent,” she looks at you with a knowing stare. “But not if it means you’re in danger. Which you are.”

“I know,” you frown. “But I’ve been locked in this house for months, I miss going out and having a life. I’m tired of being coddled.”

“I know, sweetheart,” she sighs, looking past herself in the mirror to flash me a sympathetic smile. She thinks for a beat and finally spins around, “Alright, screw it, doll, let’s go paint the town.”

You buzz with excitement, grinning, “Yay! Thank you, thank you! I wonder who will be djaying...” you trail off. 

Harley’s face falls and her mouth goes in a solid, straight line, looking past your shoulder, “I don’t think anyone will be.”

You laugh, completely oblivious, “Of course there will be. There has to be music. Dancing in silence would be pretty fucking awkward.”

“This moment is pretty fucking awkward.”

“What do you mean?”

A deep, irritated voice sounds off behind you, “Because you’re not going.”

You jump out of your skin, “Shit, Robert! You scared the hell out of me!”

“You’re not going to that club,” he folds his arms over his chest. You look over him and his casual, night wear: a loose tee and low hanging joggers. You almost wipe your mouth from salivating. Your outfit elicits the same reaction.

You pinch your eyebrows together, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Yes, I can. I’m tasked with protecting you.”

“Yeah. And nowhere on your job description does it say ‘become my parent’. There’s not an opening now just because I don’t have one. I am a grown ass woman and I have been a prisoner in my own home. The same home where...” you pause, a lump in your throat at the reminder of your family’s passing. You shake it off, “I’m just tired. I want a piece of my life back. You can either stay here or come. Either way I’m going.”

He gives you a quick once over and contemplates his options before dropping his arms to his sides and letting out a long exhale.

“Fine.”

You somewhat relax at his defeated tone, “Fine, what?”

He relents, “You can go, but I’m coming with you. But if anything happens to you, I’m not to be blamed. I will leave your ass in that club.”

You grin and jump up to give him a tight hug around the neck. He stiffens before slowly rubbing your back. You sink into his embrace, feeling like you were floating in water, now above the surface as he brings you back to oxygen. Harley smiles at the exchange and she winks theatrically. 

He glares. 

It’s not long before you three arrive at the club, music blaring and colorful lights flashing over the crowded floors. From his stare and intimidating aura, the club staff thought he was a bouncer and let you all in immediately. But before he was roped into working, the three of you bee-lined to the bar. 

“The prettiest and strongest drink ya got, sugar,” Harley smiles at the pretty bartender.

“And what if that’s me?” she responds, ebony hair falling onto one shoulder.

“Then I’ll have to drink you later,” Harley gives her a flirty once over and you roll your eyes.

The bartender grins and gestures towards me for my order, I answer quickly, “Scotch on the rocks.”

Robert looks at you, poorly covering his shocked expression. “Really?”

“Yeah, why?” you look up at him.

“Didn’t peg you for a straight liquor type, Ms. y/l/n,” he finally lets his hidden laugh show through, butterflies erupting in your chest. The diversion definitely worked, whatever you were thinking about before this has immediately left you.

“Then this is going to be the first surprise of many tonight, Mr. Dubois,” you return the smug look as he orders the same thing. You both share a look.

The bartender slides you all your drinks, each of you taking a long swig for liquid courage for the night. Harley’s favorite Doja Cat song comes on and she gasps, clapping excitedly when she grabs you by the wrist, pulling you on the dance floor, “Come dance with me.”

You mouth a small ‘sorry’ to Bloodsport who you left at the bar, he shakes his head with a smile over the rim of his glass, watching you guys’ drinks. 

She dances wildly, jumping up and down, spinning to let her hair fall in many beautiful angles. She’s a powerful force and your greatest friend. She puts her arms around your neck and the two of you move in time with the music.

“So...” she motions to Bloodsport who’s being forced into a conversation with a woman at the bar. The woman puts her hand on his and he visibly shrinks back and whispers something to her that causes the most horrid look from the woman and for her to walk quickly away. You smile at the relief that interaction has brought you.

“So what?” you spin her around and pull her back.

“Quit with the good dancing, or I’m gonna fuck you myself,” she teases with a lightheaded giggle.

You smile, “We’ve tried that already, remember?”

“Too much history, I know, I know. Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice...” she whispers into your neck, kissing the soft spot under your chin. Your skin heats up under her touch as she drags her hands down your sides, pulling you close to her so that you’re flush against her chest.

You give into her and kiss her slowly, her soft lips melt into your own when her hands tug in your hair. Harley and you have always had a complicated friendship, with enough sexual attraction to fuel a nuclear bomb, but not enough romantic. You love each other but not in the way you both need. You were in love with Robert and she is continuing to explore her sexuality because she likes women and so do you. So as she trails her hot mouth down your neck in the middle of dozens of bustling bodies and you lock eyes with an angry Bloodsport, you knew exactly what she was doing.

You whisper, out of breath, “Are you trying the jealousy trick?”

“It worked in college, didn’t it?” she kisses your cheek, smiling gently against your skin. “And it’s working now.”

“I think you’re just obsessed with kissing me,” you kiss her back.

“It was a win-win situation, doll,” she grins devilishly and you can’t help but agree. “So when you’re done with him, come see me. But right now, I have a sexy bartender lady to drink up.” You grip her hand and let her make her way to her next conquest.

Robert had seen the tail-end of your kiss, his deft fingers clenched around his whiskey glass. He knows he shouldn’t let this sort of thing affect him, something as juvenile and simple as jealousy. But he couldn’t stop that feeling of being stuck, unable to think about anything except the fact that it wasn’t him with his hands on you like that, lips marking you as much as he pleases. Sadness washed over him in a tidal wave and he set his glass down, about to get up to leave when he spotted a man eyeing you from the door. He looked familiar and it wasn’t just attraction he sensed in his eyes but something far more sinister.

A few more men followed suit and began making their way to you in the middle of the dance floor. He had no time to consider the facts, just to get you out of there as soon as possible. 

You feel a rough hand tug your arm and turn to face who you think to be Dubois, you smile, “Enjoy the show?”

“Very much,” an unknown voice answers, and you look up, eyes wide. “Now why don’t you come with me for a little talk, beautiful.”

“Get the fuck off of me,” you yank your arm back, slamming your heel down into the perpetrator’s foot. More men surround you on all sides, making it impossible for you to escape or use your subpar martial arts skills. Aerial yoga was a very different ballpark than kicking ass. And you were just a beginner.

You poorly punch a man in the face, only making them all angrier when you’re grabbed from all sides, being dragged towards the exit kicking and screaming. You didn’t want to be that helpless damsel in distress, but as all of these men, men you recognized from your family’s death, were surrounding you, you couldn’t breathe. Their hands felt familiar, grabbing your arms like they’d done that night before you hid in the secret door in the dining room. You had watched these faceless men through a hole in that door, stifling your cries when bullets sprayed the room your family was having dinner in. So while they were coming after you and pulling you outside, it’s all you felt. That same feeling when he wasn’t near.

Drowning.

There’s a hand that pulls you back and you watch, dazed, as Bloodsport puts every man who touched you on the ground. It’s filled with swift yet aggressive and barbaric movements, controlled, expert chaos and it happens within moments. His chest is heaving when he looks down at you and scoops you up in his arms. You’d object in any other circumstances, but this time, head against his chest and tucked in his arms, you were okay.

His voice rumbles against your side, “We’re going home.”

~~~

Harley’s tears hit your shoulder as you sympathetically pat her back.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I shouldn’t have left,” she sniffles loudly. “I should’ve been there.”

You laugh softly, fitting your head into her shoulder, “It’s okay, Harls. It’s not your fault, there was no harm done.”

“There could have been,” she sighs. “I’m not letting you convince me to go out next time, you’re staying here forever.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, “Alright.”

She gets up and sniffs, wiping at her nose that’s now flushed from crying, “Good because I’m serious.”

“I know,” you laugh again, hugging yourself in a hoodie much too large for you, (because you stole it from Rick Flagg) swallowing you whole. 

Your eyes wander down the hall to where Robert is no doubt pacing around in your bedroom, the only room not laden with cameras (ironically for privacy). You kick at the floor in your fuzzy socks and think of an excuse to go check on him, even though you’re probably the last person he wants to see right now. You, frankly, don’t care.

“I’m gonna go-” 

“Check on Robert?” she finishes. “I know, honey. I was a psychiatrist, I’m not stupid.”

You crack a smile and grip her arm affectionately as you walk past her towards the bedroom. You don’t even take the risk of knocking for fear he’ll lock it and try your luck with just simply opening it. You see him, shirtless with a towel over his shoulder, a low hanging towel wrapped around his waist, while nursing his knuckles. He looks you over once you enter the room, trained eyes on you and the intimidation is definitely working already when he takes the damp towel on his shoulder and dabs the cuts on his skin.

He remains silent and you move to sit down on your bed, the awkward squeak filling the already high-tension atmosphere, thick enough to make your ears pop like you’re in an airplane too far up in the sky.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, drawing his eye. 

He hums and steps into your bathroom, washing off his hands. 

You frown at his lack of response, “Are you really going to pout this whole time? Because honestly, it’s beneath you, Robert.” You lean forward, watching as he walks out of the bathroom, still half naked, still silent. 

The silence is beginning to slowly kill you, especially when he looks this good, water droplets running down his chiseled torso from a hot shower. You didn’t let your mind wander because if the reaction your body is giving from the image before you was any indication, you want him. He walks in the room once again, mouth in an amused yet firm line. 

In actuality, he was ashamed of himself. Not so much of you. He would’ve left as that despair overcame him back in that bar. He would’ve left you there and abandoned his mission, leaving you to be hurt. If it hadn't been for those men, you could’ve been killed and it would be his fault. He alerted Waller of the attack, making up a lie about the two of you going for a walk at night and getting ambushed there rather than at a club. There’s a hit on each of those men being taken out as we speak as well as a search for their boss. Even though that still got him chewed out. He couldn’t imagine what she’d do to him if she found out the truth.

Robert walks slowly towards you, leaning against the bed frame, gesturing for you to continue. You watch him, distracted, as he wraps a bandage around his knuckles.

“I shouldn’t have kissed her to get a rise out of you, that was hurtful,” you exhale your words, quiet enough he wouldn’t be able to hear you if you weren’t within a breath of one another. You hang your head, “And it was stupid to go out in the first place when I am in this much danger. I could’ve been killed, and you could have been hurt. I’m sorry.”

He represses a laugh at the idea of him getting hurt, when the two of you both know that would never happen. But as the silence from him grows thicker, the more you start to ramble.

“Okay, this silent treatment isn’t going to work for much longer. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you need to stop.”

He gives you a look that says ‘make me’. But you both know you couldn’t if you tried, and vice versa. He thinks of you as a siren, one of those alluring creatures in old sailor tales that lured unsuspecting men to their painful deaths. As if he has no control of the way he feels about you. Which in a way he does, but he knows better. He knows better than to fall under your enchanting song, but he can’t help but be pulled beneath the surface of the water. 

Robert tenses when you move forward and the hoodie falls off one of your shoulders, revealing more of your chest, the smooth skin that lays there. 

His chest tightens when you look up at him and sigh.

“But thank you for saving me,” you say, both because you think that’s what he wants to hear but also because you mean it, you wouldn’t be here at all if he didn’t come with you.

He licks his lips and nods his head in simple recognition. He appreciated the apology, truly he did, but a part of him enjoyed the way you continued to ramble on, so he remained silent. This was an old interrogation tactic he learned when he served, keeping quiet always got people talking. He looks down at you and leans to meet your face, hands on either side of you. 

“I don’t know what else you wish for me to say,” you admit quietly, fiddling with your hands.

He didn’t know either but whatever you would say, he would listen.

“So I take it you’re not mad anymore?” you infer from his relaxed posture, heart beating out of your chest, fast enough that it catapults to your throat. 

He tilts his head down so he’s an inch before your mouth, breath fanning over your face. when he tugs you up to your feet, hands gripping the sides of your waist when he pulls you close. Your heartbeats began to sync up, chest to chest.

“I’m fucking furious, sweetheart.”

You meet his eyes, looking up in that seductive stare of yours you never knew you were capable of until him, and close the distance, kissing him lightly. His arms falter by your side and it’s the first time you’ve seen him hesitate, losing his cool. It’s the most gentle thing he’s ever experienced, everything in his life being forced, hostile, and malicious, while your soft lips against his are anything but. You kiss him like he’s not the monster he thinks himself to be. 

“Then let me make it up to you.”

“Fuck,” he grips your sides harder, palm moving to push you closer with his hand flat against the small of your back. “We shouldn’t.”

You search his face for uncertainty, but all you sense is a profound sense of clarity, in the both of you. “I know.”

“Will you regret this?”

You shake your head, hand against his cheek, “No.”

His dark eyes fall to your lips, pupils filling his dark brown irises, lust blown, “You’re so good, baby. You’re too good for me.”

Before you can tease him about the new nickname and object to that, his lips have crashed against your own. His hand slides up to cup the side of your face, drinking you in with his intoxicating kiss. You hum, content, against his feverish mouth and he opens it, vulnerable and on display. You feel his guard still up, tense and calculated, so you rest your hand against his chest. You press a kiss to his eyelid, his cheek, his nose, his chin, his jaw, his neck. He softens beneath you, groaning aloud as his hands tighten. 

“You don’t need to be afraid with me,” you whisper to him, tender fingers trailing down his shirtless chest, hot skin against hot skin. It’s enough to make you sweat.

He exhales and captures your bottom lip with his own, holding your face in both of his hands. The kiss grows heated and rushed, like you’re running out of time, as if at any moment those men would come back and find you and take you away from him again. His tongue expertly works with your own, licking the pout of your bottom lip, and coaxing you open. He slides his hand down between your legs, dipping his finger to find the slick in the middle of your thighs. You moan into his mouth, his other hand at the back of your neck when he buries his face in your shoulder. He kisses you there, the crook where your neck meets your collarbone, that damned sensitive spot. You succumb to his touch. His beard tickles your skin and you gasp when he sucks hard, a bruise forming.

You breathe a laugh, “Everyone will see if you leave a mark,” you tug on his hair when you thread it through his coarse curls. 

He falls under your spell and there’s something so ironically beautiful about this trained assassin with a heart of gold and the scars to show for it, being so open with you.

His hands, his entire life, have been forced to be instruments of death and violence. But as they slide down your figure, holding your face, and pulling you into him, they’re his greatest gift. He’s surprisingly tender with you. 

But then he has enough and pushes you down on the bed, arms trapping you on both sides.

He responds bluntly, “I don’t care.”

You part your legs for him and he releases a shaky breath. He slowly unzips your sweatshirt and it falls off you just as you do the same and tug his towel down. Both of you are bare before the other as you take a moment to drink each other in. You were just as, if not more, beautiful than he imagined you to be. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly as his hand drapes down the line of your figure. He touches you how someone would handle a glass vase filled with flowers. 

You take his face in both of your hands and kiss him, “So are you.” 

“I don’t think you know what you do to me, baby.” His hand finds your breast and squeezes while he kisses your neck.

You moan when he uses his other hand to grip your neck, thumb against your pulse point, “If it’s anything like how I feel right now, then yes, I do.”

He lifts his head up to watch your face as he chokes you, softly so he doesn’t hurt you but hard enough to play with your breath. His thumb opens your mouth and your legs tremble. 

“So I take it you’re into choking, my love?” You nod excitedly, unable to speak, and his grip tightens. 

You let out a squeak and he releases, face etched with worry, kissing your neck where he touched you. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry.” 

You shake your head and smile comfortingly, “No, baby, I’m okay. I’ll tap out if it’s too rough, I promise,” you tease.

His grumbling voice deepens, “Good... because, darling, right now all I want to do is bury my face in between those gorgeous thighs of yours.”

You inhale sharply when he opens your legs once again, looking up at you and you nod in consent.

“I need words, beautiful,” he smirks with his mouth just above your center. 

“Yes, please,” you breathe out and he responds with a swift lick to your pussy. He looks up at you and when he catches your eye, it’s as if the sensation grows stronger and your head hits your pillow.

“I’ve barely even touched you,” he mumbles into you and you feel his smug smile in your thigh. His fingers dip into you as he flattens his tongue and crooks them towards himself, you grip your sheets.

“Don’t... flatter yourself,” you sigh out. “I-it’s just been awhile.”

He removes his mouth and fingers from you, “So anyone can make you feel like this?”

You enjoy the feeling you get when he looks at you like that, his eyes dark and dominant, so you play along and nod. “Yes, in fact, I’ve had better.”

He licks his lips and gets up from the bed. He opens his drawer and you sit up to look what he grabs: a belt. Your heart beats excitedly in your chest even though you know you shouldn’t be. He gets back on the bed and climbs over you.

Robert looks at you, “Hands.”

You extend them to him wordlessly, watching as he ties your wrists together and puts them over the bedpost so you’re trapped there, unable to move.

“Now,” he holds himself above you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You’re to stay tied up until I say so, anything like that again and they get tighter. Nod if you understand me.”

You nod emphatically. You had never seen this side of Robert before, so in control and not afraid to go too far, it was so unbelievably sexy. 

The best part was he didn’t tie it tight enough, afraid of hurting you, so you could easily slip out your hands at any moment.

He kisses, painfully slow, down your chest and wraps his lips around your nipple. He swirls his tongue around the erect bud and you gasp, desperate to touch him. He looks up at you from you chest as he switches to the other, massaging the unattended one as he sucks, the pleasurable feeling overwhelming you. So much so you have to clench your thighs together, longing for some sort of relief for the tension building in your abdomen.

“Baby, please,” you whine, squirming beneath him.

He shuts you up with a bruising kiss while his hand slips down to enter you, two fingers in already. He pumps them in and out of you before sliding back down the expanses of your body and letting his mouth latch onto your clit. He sucks hard and you stifle a loud moan that would surely alert everyone in the home of your arousal. He holds you down against the bed with a palm flat against your stomach as you begin to lift your pelvis. His tongue enters you while his fingers take over, stimulating you with gentle rubs and flicks. But just before you feel that euphoric release, his actions cease and you’re left hot and flustered. 

“Robert,” you look at him with a deep frown.

He grins, “Y/n...”

You blow hair out of your eyes, “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” He puts his lips near your ear, “Are you ready?” You nod as he pushes himself inside you and you bite back a moan into his shoulder. 

You finally have enough, slip your hands out, and he pinches his brow, unable to hide his shock before you bring him down to press your lips against his. He melts into you, arms wrapped around you while he holds you close, filling you out in all the right places. He quickens his pace and you whine into his mouth, nails digging into his skin. You wrap your legs around his torso and he hits you so nicely. He was right, it’s the best you’ve ever had. He rises and looks at you, lips swollen and red from kissing, eyes clear and pupils large, and face flushed with heat. Your hair is in messy tendrils at all angles and you’ve never been more attractive.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises in your ear, placing kisses across your jaw. “Taking my cock so well.”

You whimper and his movements stiffen as he approaches release and so do you, walls tightening around him. He reaches down and rubs your clit with his expert fingers. You finish together, mouths open and hands all over each other’s bodies. It overcomes you in a tingling, perfect sensation, it continues on, leaving you aching and wanting more.

He rubs his knuckles over your cheek, softly and adoringly he looks at you. You tuck yourself into his arms under the blankets. Everything you both have wanted for a long time, laying right in front of you.

“Still want to make me not walk?” you tease, looking up at him.

He kisses your eyelids and you giggle, “Fuck yes.”

Part 2?

#harley quinn #harley quinn x reader #rick flagg #bloodsport #bloodsport x reader #robert dubois x reader #robert dubois #idris elba #suicide squad #suicide squad 2 #dc #dc smut #dc fanfiction #fanfiction #smut

[themadearl]

Idea: Yuu is younger than everyone else 

[prev part]

Note: Some additional changes to how Chapter 4 could go due to such condition, some chapter 4 spoilers

Comes Chapter 4 where winter break starts and almost everyone goes home

The happy mood of Adeuce is cut in half when they realise they have to leave him with no adults at all since all staff is gone

Naturally some other students notice that as well

The Heartslabyul gang goes up asking wheter Yuu would like to visit their hometown

Trey says that his family wouldn’t mind Yuu staying over for the break

Cater offers Yuu to visit his hometown if she wants

Adeuce can’t actually invite Yuu on such short notice but thinks to themselves to bring Yuu home for next year

Yuu declines but says that she’ll like to visit next year

Adeuce duo makes Yuu promise them to keep in touch everyday

“What do you think I’m going to do? Set the school on fire?”  

The Savanaclaw gang comes over after the Heartslabyul students leave

Leona flexes on the massive palace he stays in by saying that he still have lots of empty guest rooms to stay in

Jack says that he just asked his parents and that Yuu could stay over if he wants

Ruggie lectures Yuu out of habit from the kids in his hometown on what to not do alone

Just like before, Yuu declines as she still has something to do and that there’s Grim and the ghosts with her

Jack ruffles her hair before going and tells her to keep in touch

Leona and Ruggie offers that if anything arises, she can call them for help

However, Leona does so with tossing a paper with presumably, his phone number and not a single word more

Before Yuu can leave, Floyd drapes his arm over Yuu saying that he’ll take care of shrimpy

Jade reminds him that just like Riddle, he can’t keep Yuu as a pet

“Ehh, but shrimpy is so small and cute. He can even sleep in my bed.”

“No thanks Floyd-senpai, I have my own dorm to go back to.”

 The later events promptly made Yuu eat those words as she gets locked up Scarabia dorm

Yuu is like a hair’s breath from crying out of frustration when she can’t contact Crowley as she gets locked up

Might as well contact all the numbers she has and pray that someone will come get her

Thankfully, Yuu and Grim somehow escaped using the magic rug and bumped straight into the Octo trio

Yuu’s mood has been like riding a roller coaster and it’s no wonder that she just starts crying when Azul starts asking for compensation cause everything seems so unfair

First she gets imprisoned for just showing up, stupid principal won’t answer the damn phone, forced to do training she doesn’t need and now she has to pay compensation for property damage

 “Azul made shrimpy/prefect cry.”, which the Leech twins state in unison

“Fine, fine. No compensation needed, since we Octavinelle is based upon the compassion of the Sea Witch.”

Floyd places a plate of pancakes in front of Yuu as desserts should cheer people up right?

Jade pairs it up with a hot chocolate as it’ll warm Yuu up

They all listen to Yuu as she complains about Scarabia in between bites and sniffles

As Yuu finishes up on the food, Azul, Jade and Floyd decides to spice up their winter break by joining in as well 

Yuu decides to go back as well since there was a lot of weird things about the dorm anyway

So they all go back and unearth the conspiracy of the decade

Having so much fun that Yuu have almost a hundred missed calls and messages

While Ace and Deuce doesn’t seem to bear any hard feelings as they show up to see Yuu unharmed

The same can’t be said to Leona who showed just to see Yuu having fun at a body of water

Oops

Yuu quickly runs away before Leona can catch her while Jack tries to calm him down

Crowley is so going to get it when he comes back thinks Yuu as she replies to all the people she messaged

#twisted wonderland #female prefect yuu #crossdressing yuu #young yuu ver #alternate plot happenings

[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song ii.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader  au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, things are heating up! the phrase ‘dilf dick’ gets thrown around way too much, RJ and taehyung cameo, hoseok, yoongi and namjoon are mentioned, as well as jungkook if you squint words; 12,169

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

After Seokjin dropped you off at the station, he and Arin waving you goodbye, it would be two weeks later when you saw him again. Not that you were holding out on it or anything… No way… That would be ludicrous.  

The last week of school was always hectic, activities and games top priority now that teaching had come to a standstill. The children were hyper, the teacher’s worn out, but without fail you always looked forward to the summer fate. Head of the committee every year, you and a handful of your fellow teachers organised each game, each stall and each prize. As well as wanting the children to have fun, it was also an opportunity to celebrate their achievements throughout the year with their families. There were an arrange of awards for most subjects, third through to first place for each grade, and this year you’d convinced the principal, Mr. Jung, to include a new creative writing award. It wasn’t technically a subject – you already had the spelling bee for English class, but he’d thought it was a great idea to celebrate the students’ talents in a brand new way. 

Of course, there was one child you had in mind when you’d gone to him with the idea – Arin. It was only fair in your eyes, she’d been with you not even three months and hadn’t had a chance like the other kids. The other awards were spoken for but you wanted her to at least get something, just so first grade could end on a good note for her and help her look forward to September. 

You were at the entrance of the fate, in casual conversation with Mrs. Jeon as well as greeting the students’ families, when you caught a glimpse of Seokjin. He was hand in hand with Arin who skipped happily beside him. He was wearing a sea green thin sweater, that blew in the light breeze, and black jeans. He was even in sneakers. Way more unbelievable than the slippers. He looked effortlessly good, and you thought you preferred him like this, casually dressed. The suits were great yes, but he looked far more attainable like this. Not that you wanted to attain him. 

Damn it. 

You tried your best to ignore the strange heat that had seemed to settle in your chest at the sight of him, the faintest flurry of what could only be described as butterflies aggravating your stomach. What the hell? What was wrong with you? 

“Hello, Miss.” Arin grinned, giving you a small wave, and you shook yourself out of it. 

“Hi, Arin,” you waved back, of course catching Seokjin’s eyes in the process. 

“Miss. Y/L/N,” he greeted, the hint of a smirk across his mouth. Teasing, again. Two could play at that game. 

“Mr. Kim,” you replied, unable to keep a straight face – especially when you heard him laugh as he passed by you. 

You watched him walk off, secretly pleased now that you knew he was here. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, wouldn’t dare tell anyone, but you’d been hoping he’d be free to attend the fate. To see Arin receive her reward, of course – nothing else. But, okay, maybe you had spent an embarrassingly long time choosing which dress to wear last night. Not that you wanted to impress him, more like… stand out. 

“Who is he?” Mrs. Jeon whispered animatedly – hopefully out of earshot and once again knocking some sense back into you. 

You tried to sound casual, like you weren’t aware of Seokjin’s jaw-dropping good looks – or more so, that they didn’t affect you whatsoever. “A student’s father.”

She made a noise of disbelief. “He is just pure… sex on legs.”

“Eunbi!” You exclaimed, taken by such surprise you used her first name. She burst out laughing, something you couldn’t ignore and ended up in a fit of giggles yourself. 

“Behave.” You warned, trying to compose yourself. “You’re a married woman.” You’d attended her wedding last summer, bringing along Soojung as your plus one. 

“Looking is still allowed,” she replied, making you both explode into laughter once again. 

You were giddy. Really, what was up with you?

.

.

The afternoon was a success, the children and their families enjoying immensely, as well as the teachers. It was your job to announce the creative writing reward and it was so heart-warming to see how happy it made Arin to come first place. She held her little trophy and movie theatre vouchers proudly for the camera, Seokjin looking just as over the moon as her. Mr. Jung convinced him to join for a few snaps and you looked on with a polite smile. Other than earlier and a thank you as you passed the prize to Arin, those had been your only interactions with Seokjin for the day and now the fate was drawing to a close. You wouldn’t say you were disappointed, because that would be preposterous, but if those were going to be your only exchanges then it made the times he’d fleeted into your mind these past couple of weeks highly embarrassing… 

It wasn’t as if you wanted to think about him, he just kept popping up. First you blamed Soojung, who wouldn’t shut up about Mr. Dilf for a few days after the exchange at his house (mansion), but soon the topic bored her, no new developments to keep her hooked. You on the other hand found yourself imagining instances where you’d bump into one another again. You know, happenstances… Like if he had the time to drop Arin off at school, although you doubted he’d end up in the staff parking lot again… You’d had a good giggle to yourself remembering his face when he’d realised. 

Other incidents were less realistic, like maybe he’d drop off a thank you present the students liked to gift to say goodbye, or maybe you’d bump into him at the grocery store, the park – highly improbable, but you found yourself thinking all these things when you were procrastinating or trying to get to sleep. 

Even now as you tried to win a prize at the Ring Toss stall – don’t ask how much money you’d already spent – (obviously using your free time wisely before you were needed again), you found yourself disappointed that things hadn’t worked out quite like you’d imagined today. You were being stupid. The guy was supposed to annoy the heck out of you, yet here you were unable to stop thinking about him. It had been a long time since a man had gotten you this distracted. A really long time… 

“Can I help?”

You jumped at the sound of Seokjin’s voice, granted you were in deep concentration, about to launch the hoop, but you felt like you’d been caught doing something wrong. As if he knew you’d been thinking about him, caught you in the act. You whipped your head up, forcing yourself to relax and smile. 

“I’ve been watching you try to win for the past ten minutes.” He chuckled. Great. How embarrassing. He stepped closer. “What do you have your eyes so set on?”

Oh, god. Even more embarrassing. You had a split second to make a decision. Be truthful or lie and choose something else. You know what, who cared? You were thirty and still loved stuffed animals. It wasn’t out of the ordinary. 

“The alpaca.” You pointed to the white fluffy animal sat on the top shelf. With his cute round face and a red scarf wrapped around his neck, he was adorable and you really wanted him. 

Seokjin wasn’t fazed at all. “He’s cute. I’ll try but don’t get your hopes up, okay?” 

You nodded and handed him the hoops. He needed to loop all three around the skittles. You watched him with anticipation, thinking to yourself this definitely wasn’t one of your fantasies, but you liked it regardless. Liked it even better when Seokjin managed to win. 

“Thank you, Seokjin,” you smiled, his name still feeling strange to say aloud. The man in charge of the game passed you your new ‘pet’ and you held it fondly, unable to stop yourself. Your landlord didn’t allow animals so you’d had to improvise over the years. You’d never had an alpaca before, but you were sure he’d fit right in. 

“No problem, I’m glad I could be of service.” He chuckled. 

There was a silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable but it was new. You were so used to Seokjin joking about you were expecting him to take the lead. Today he was quiet, actually right now he looked pretty awkward. 

You opened your mouth to ask him how he was when you suddenly realised something. How stupid of you. You’d been so distracted by the stuffed animal you hadn’t realised a little certain someone was missing. “Where’s Arin?”

“She’s playing with a friend and their family.” You watched him scratch the back of his neck, looking at you, but not really making eye contact. “Y/N, do you maybe want to take a walk? We could find some where to sit and talk?”

“About what?” You could’ve kicked yourself. Why did you have to ask that? You were just a little dazed from hearing him say your name again. 

“Uh, just about Arin really.” 

You didn’t really know what you’d been expecting so any answer would’ve surprised you, but you nodded, taking him up on the offer. “Okay.” 

You knew a bench away from the fate but still on school grounds, and you walked side by side, noticing just how tall and broad he was. His shoulders looked unbelievable in that sweater, and it hugged his chest perfectly when the light breeze of the afternoon hit him, his well-built chest visible. Not that you were staring or anything, you just happened to notice… 

You small talked along the way. Not much, mostly about the fate, but it was enough for you to hit your destination without any awkward silence. You wracked your brains as you sat, wondering what he had to say about Arin. Maybe he wanted to discuss her stories more, thank you for the prize she’d won. What you did know though, was that his cologne really did smell amazing. It was woody, maybe spicy, and just plain addicting. This close proximity was wreaking havoc with you again. You sat the alpaca between you both on bench, acting as a barrier for your sanity. 

Seokjin patted its head absentmindedly before he side-eyed you, that amused smile you’d become familiar with upturning the corners of his mouth. “You seem a lot less scrappy today.”

You raised both eyebrows, thrown for a moment. “Scrappy?”

“Yes,” he chuckled, “a lot less intimidating.” 

You? Intimidating? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? The sheer power of Seokjin’s brow line alone could bring a person to quivering knees, and that wasn’t mentioning the obvious, like you know, his face. However, he seemed genuine enough. You didn’t really consider yourself feisty, but then again, when pushed to your limits maybe something just snapped inside of you. You had powers you weren’t aware of, obviously. Better own them then…

You gave a small shrug, smirking slightly. “Maybe I’ve chosen to forgive and forget.” 

He chuckled again, genuinely amused, but you sensed some reluctance his end, a slight awkwardness. Was he stalling? You suddenly grew a little nervous. The dynamics you’d grown somewhat used to during your last few encounters had shifted without you knowing. Seokjin was a lot less teasing today. How come? 

“So,” you pressed carefully, unable to handle the anticipation. “What was it you wanted to say?” 

He lifted his head up, warm eyes meeting yours and your insides did that flurrying thing again. Your imagination hadn’t concocted this. When he smiled you realised how kind it was – how kind it could be when he wasn’t being infuriating. “I just want to thank you.” 

Your eyes widened before you could control the surprise. “Thank me?” 

He nodded, relaxing a little now, pressing his back into the bench. “For being such an amazing teacher to Arin these past couple of months.” 

Of course, Arin. That’s what he’d said in the beginning, right? He wanted to sit and talk about Arin.

“That’s really no problem,” you smiled. It was your job after all. Yes, teachers liked being appreciated for their hard work, but personally, praise sent you a little red in the face. 

You didn’t know if he heard you, already continuing, as if he’d rehearsed what he wanted to say. “It’s been really hard on her, the change – you know, uprooting the life she knew to come and live with me. New school, making new friends. She was incredibly worried, but you made it so much easier for her.” 

Looking at you again, sounding so genuine, you found yourself freezing. You stumbled a little over your words before managing to come up with something functional. “Of course, it’s my job to make every student comfortable in my class.” You were sure any teacher would’ve treated her with the same kindness and care. But, yes, truthfully you had become very fond of her in such a short time. You wanted him to know that in a roundabout way. “I’ll miss her come September.” 

He gave you an appreciative smile. “She’ll miss you too.” 

Serious Seokjin always threw you. Maybe it was because you had to accept that you’d misjudged him completely. He wasn’t the rich pompous jerk you’d first thought the morning he’d hit your car. You had to admit that like this he impressed and intrigued you. It was why you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him these past two weeks. Which was stupid because you doubted he was doing the same.  

“Thanks for choosing her to win that writing competition, by the way.” His voice brought you back to Earth, concentrating on him again to find that mischievous grin all over his face. “Even if you didn’t like the way it ended.” 

You scoffed. Was he ever going to drop that? He knew that wasn’t the case. He’d asked for the damn pointer himself. “Well, if Lewis Carroll did it.” 

“Kim Arin can too?” He finished, both of you instantly laughing. Once it petered off, he tilted his head to the side, gazing at you almost. It made you fidget a little, getting flustered. “She’s really fond of you. I meant what I said at the parent-teacher meeting.”

God, you really were horrendous at taking compliments. Especially from a man that already made you feel funny. 

“She’s always speaking about how kind and lovely you are.” A pause. "...How pretty you are.” You froze. He hesitated, contemplating something in his head it seemed. He looked you straight in the eyes and said casually, “I have to admit, I agree." 

Oh. What?! You felt heat begin to travel up your face, your cheeks burning and you prayed it wasn't visible. You didn't know what to reply, but thankfully (perhaps) Seokjin simply carried on, hopefully oblivious to your awkward reaction. You should bypass it too. It probably didn't mean anything. He was just being polite, right? 

“Realising it was your car I hit made me feel even guiltier." He shook his head regretfully. "I really am sorry for all that. The damage, stealing your car." 

"It's fine, Seokjin." He hadn’t really stolen your car, you’d been extremely overdramatic there. He'd apologised enough already. You were over it. You had two days left of school, the summer all yours, your mood was much better. Let bygones be bygones. 

“Yeah but, I should’ve never gotten your car towed. I realise I was out of line. You said you didn’t want my help but I didn’t listen." 

You nodded, listening to him, aware he needed to say this. Again, it seemed as if he'd rehearsed it almost, or maybe it was the professional in him. You were too damn stubborn so he wasn't all to blame. You smiled appreciatively, fighting your hand's strange urge to pat his shoulder. It was maybe best that you didn't touch him. Instead you gave a teasing grin. “But you still won’t let me pay you back?” 

He whined – or at least that's the only way you could describe it. It tugged at something inside your chest. Maybe it was more like a wail. Less cute. He couldn't believe you were back on that. 

"I'm just messing around," you laughed, trying to compose yourself to let him know something too. “While we're on apologies... I'm sorry for being so short with you annnd for calling you a car thief."

He chuckled, brushing a hand through his hair. Oh, it was pushed back above his forehead again today. You hadn't noticed, too distracted by what? His sneakers? The outfit as a whole? His face? “I deserved it, let’s be honest." 

"Maybe in the beginning," you admitted carefully, causing him to laugh harder. 

“I was way too preoccupied when I hit you. With work and promising Arin I’d drop her off at school – because shamefully I’d never done it before." He turned a little pensive at that, lost in his own thoughts. 

“You must be really busy," you said, voice soft. There was no way he could do it all. Work seemingly six days a week and still try to be there for Arin 24/7. 

He looked across at you, an eyebrow quirking slightly. What was he surprised by? That you were sympathising with him? He nodded slowly. “It’s just hard learning to juggle everything.   Don’t get me wrong, I love having her with me every day, but...”

“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it soon.” You wanted to say it would be summer break soon enough, but then on second thoughts, maybe that would make things even harder. 

“Yeah, maybe,” he shrugged, changing the subject back to you. “Besides, me being busy doesn’t really excuse the fact I hit you. I mean, what if god forbid you’d been walking past my car instead, it doesn’t bear thinking about.” He looked beside himself at just the idea. 

“But I wasn’t,” you reminded him, “so it’s perfectly okay.” 

“You’re right,” he murmured, giving you a small smile that rounded his cheeks.  

There was silence then, where you waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t. Was that all he’d wanted to talk about? To thank you for being a kind teacher to Arin and to say sorry once again for the car debacle? For some reason you felt eager to keep the conversation going. It was an urge deep inside you that acted on its own accord. 

“So, what do you do?” You asked, trying your best to sound casual. Not that you weren’t casual. You just didn’t want to make it seem like you were desperate for small talk. “If you don’t mind me asking.” 

Again, he looked vaguely surprised. What, that you were interested in him? No, that was phrased wrong. That you were interested. He didn’t meet your eyes as he replied.  “I, uh, I’m the CEO of LG. I took over from my father about three years ago.” 

You swore your eyes bugged out of their sockets you were so overcome with shock. You were glad he wasn’t looking at you as you tried to pull it together. “The LG?”

Like one of the biggest companies in the country LG? He was way too young surely? Weren’t those type of CEOs old and round looking?  

Seokjin chuckled, finally looking you in the eyes. “Unless you know another one.” 

You were speechless, well aware you needed to actually say something in reply instead of gawping but what? What could you say to that? “I guess that explains why you’re always so busy then.” 

God, why? Of all the things, why that? Well done for stating the obvious, Y/N. 

Seokjin gave you a modest smile. “It’s difficult, yes. Trying to manage work and being effectively a single dad, but I really am trying.” He shook his head slightly, as if he was telling himself off. “I missed her so much these past couple of years, so to finally have her living with me is a dream come true. I’m trying to be the best father I can but I guess it’s a work in progress.” 

You weren’t expecting him to be this open with you at all. But maybe Soojung wouldn’t be so surprised. She and a bunch of your other friends, even acquittances said that you were easy to confide in. That you listened well and didn’t try to solve everything. You didn’t know how true that was but you didn’t mind listening to him right now. Sometimes confiding in a stranger just worked. 

“Arin obviously adores you.” You smiled. “I could see that the day I dropped your car back.”

He gave you a tiny smile of thanks but sighed softly. “I just want her to always be happy. I know coming from a broken home may make that statement hypocritical but…”

“Not at all,” you insisted. “If a relationship isn’t working out then you need to do what’s best for your child, and you.” That was important too. “I mean, my parents divorced when I was quite young and I have a million and one happy memories growing up.” 

You grew a little self-conscious, thinking that you were oversharing, but he seemed happy to hear it, perking up a little. “Really?” 

“Yep. They beat the ones I have of them yelling at one another.” 

He gave a bitter chuckle then, nodding in agreement. “That’s right. It’s just…” He paused and you wondered if he was going to carry on. Was it bad that you felt curious? You liked seeing this side of Seokjin, it wasn’t how your fantasies had gone at all, it was better. Things had taken an unexpected turn but it just seemed to fit. It seemed natural. It felt nice to talk to him like this. Suddenly you didn’t seem so different. Despite the contrasts in your job and lifestyle, they weren’t very apparent here on this bench… 

“My ex-wife is… she lives a busy life – even busier than mine. But she loves it. She goes looking for it.” Seokjin explained. You listened politely. “That’s why Arin had to start living with me, and even though I’m pulled thin, I still try to make enough time for my daughter, no matter the day, no matter the time, no matter anything. Nana doesn’t…”

Nana? That was her name. You imagined someone slim and beautiful, it was only fitting seeing as Seokjin was the man she was married to once upon a time. Beauty attracted beauty. 

“Is that why you divorced?” Okay, maybe you were prying now. You hoped he didn’t find it rude. 

He didn’t. “There were a lot of reasons,” he answered honestly. “It was as much my fault as it was hers. We were going in different directions and had fallen out of love. It’s been a while now, nearly two years, I’m fine.” He met your eyes at the last part, as if he wanted you to understand that. Or maybe you were reading it wrong. Why would he want you to know that? 

“Does she live far?” You remembered Arin’s disappointment that weekend when her mom had cancelled their plans. Maybe she lived a while away and it was hard to commute with Arin back and forth. 

“No, just in the next city. It’s not far at all. She’s really high up in an accounting firm there. That’s why when we divorced I moved closer to my building here. See, that’s what annoys me the most,” Seokjin scoffed, an edge to his voice now. Oh shoot, you’d made a mistake with that question. “It’s really no distance at all, so why can’t she spare one single day for Arin?” 

You made a sympathetic face, unsure what to say. You decided on honesty. “I’m sorry, I can’t even begin to imagine how all that feels.” 

Break-ups and divorces were hard yes, but when a child was stuck in the middle a tonne of other complications arose. As a teacher you understood that very well, but as a long-time single woman, maybe not. It had been a while since you’d opened your heart to someone, your life taking a very different turn to what you’d expected three years ago. Not that you minded, you liked where you were heading right now, comfortable and at ease. There was nothing missing. You had your friends and family and that was enough. You hoped Seokjin had people around him too.  

“No, I’m the one that should apologise,” he said suddenly, face tinged with colour, as if he was embarrassed. “I’m offloading onto you, that isn’t fair.” 

“I don’t mind.” Honestly, you didn’t at all. It wasn’t even offloading, more so a conversation. You were getting to know him. 

“You’re just so easy to talk to and I got a bit caught off guard when you started asking about me.” He admitted, his warm eyes finding yours. 

Oh. So now you knew for definite he was indeed surprised by all your questions. When was the last time he’d spoken about all that stuff relating his ex-wife? Had he ever spoken about it at all? 

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you today.”

His words caught your attention, interrupting your thoughts and in the process confusing you greatly. You raised a questioning eyebrow. What did he mean? 

“When I asked you to take a walk I did want to thank you for being so kind to Arin and to apologise for the car trouble, but there was also something else…” You waited patiently, heart thudding quite roughly against your chest for some reason. He looked nervous again. Nervous and awkward just like earlier, before you’d distracted him. 

He chose a new direction. One that left you a little dazed. “Y/N, would I be crossing the line if I said I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you lately?” His dark brown eyes searched for any reaction across your face. 

“Me?” You asked quietly. 

He chuckled bashfully. “Yeah.”

Somehow you found your voice. Well, some of it anyway. “No, it’s not crossing the line.” You wanted to tell him just the same. How he’d slipped into your mind at random times of the day and how you’d secretly been holding out on another meeting. How you’d been anticipating today. But none of that came in your stunned state. Seokjin had been thinking about you? The annoying, exasperating so-and-so hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you? 

He instantly looked relieved – and pleased – at your answer. “I’m glad.” A pause as he hesitated. “Do you maybe want to… go out for dinner this Saturday?” He sounded hopeful, adding quickly, “with me, obviously.”

You would’ve giggled at that but nothing was working. You needed to process his question. He was asking you for dinner? 

“My way of apologising for everything, my treat…” You guessed he felt the need to explain now, a little panicked by your reaction (or no reaction.) “For hitting your car and towing it away without your permission.” 

You laughed then. Just like that your shock dispersing. He was so oblivious it hurt, and now you knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose. He really was that unaware. “So you want to spend more of your money on me?”

You weren’t mad, of course. He knew that, laughing too as he weighed up your reply. “I see the problem.” You snickered, your gaze intimately locking with his in the process. “So, what do you say?” He murmured. “I mean, it’s for a plethora of things really. The car business, all you’ve done for Arin. One massive thank you.” 

Oh. You were getting mixed messages here. Was this an apology dinner, a thank you dinner? Or something more? Maybe he read the questioning in your eyes because he was rushing to say more. “As well as just wanting to enjoy your company. I feel like I talked too much about myself today, I’d like to get to know you too…”  

Okay, now this sounded awfully like a date… And that word freaked you out. Had you not just been thinking about how happily single you’d been for three years and how all you needed were your friends and family? But honestly, you were getting ahead of yourself. It was one dinner. There was no way to predict the outcome and you shouldn’t even be thinking that far ahead. Sometimes you didn’t need to think. You needed to remember that. Sometimes it was just good to act in the moment. Take cautious to the wind and accept this incredibly handsome man’s dinner invitation, whatever his intention was. 

You smiled. “Dinner sounds lovely.” 

Seokjin’s eyes widened a tad, surprise visible and he didn’t try to hide it. “Really?” You laughed and nodded. Really you should be the one still shocked, because despite everything – the misjudgements, the attitude, the way you’d been itching for numerous fights with him, it was a wonder why he still wanted to be anywhere near you. …Maybe he liked that… Maybe he liked you? Or were you absolutely barking mad?  

“Can I have your number to arrange everything?” 

You went to relay it to him, watching him pull his phone from out his front jean pocket but then remembered something. “Oh, I already have yours, should I just text you?”

“That’s my work phone. Maybe we should swap personal phone numbers?” 

You mean, you only had one phone, but it made sense why he had two. You were still stuck on the personal part though. A little dazed (and excited) as he saved your number into his phonebook. Your phone was locked up in your classroom, so you couldn’t take his but no matter, you’d just save it once he messaged you. 

Seokjin glanced at his watch – an expensive looking thing, but that was really no surprise now – and hummed. “We should head back, the fate will be finishing soon.” 

You made more small talk as you walked back, Seokjin wondering if you had any allergies or a special diet so he could bear it in mind when he chose a restaurant. Luckily for you no, but you found out that he was allergic to garlic and potatoes, which seemed ridiculous and highly unfair. But he did admit that he ignored it sometimes, which resulted in disaster often because garlic made him itch like crazy. You had a good laugh over that. 

“So, what are you going to name him?” Seokjin asked, stroking the top of your alpaca’s head who was hooked against your hip as you walked.  

“Hm. I don’t know.” You shrugged, turning to him. “You decide? You did win him after all.” 

“Hmmm,” he thought aloud. A few seconds later he came up with something. “How about RJ?”

“RJ?” 

Seokjin chuckled. “Yeah, it’s cute.” 

Smiling, you had to agree. “Yeah, it is.” You held the stuffed animal up in front of you, tilting your head to the side. “RJ the alpaca. Perfect.” 

Still walking as you spoke, you felt Seokjin move in, hovering his hand behind the small of your back in case you stumbled, your attention elsewhere. You felt the same warmth you had the day he’d called you by your name for the first time… 

Of course you had to tell Soojung about the events of the day. It wasn't as if you could keep it a secret – and it wasn't as if you wanted to, you just knew what would happen... She was like a dog with a bone, unable to give it up, making you recall every minute detail down to the socks he was wearing (black, by the way, to match his jeans. You had indeed noticed). 

“He’s so smart. He waits until you’re not this kid’s teacher anymore and then BAM, do you want to go on a date?”

“Soojung, it’s not a date," you sighed. “He’s just…being nice." 

You were still reluctant to call it a date, because well, he hadn't used the word himself. You didn't want to get your hopes up. Although you would never admit that to her, you knew she understood, in her own roundabout way. 

“Being nice?!” She exclaimed, scoffing absurdly loud. 

You shrugged. “Yeah, thanking me." 

She spluttered, as if she found you terribly naive. “What, thanks for being kind to my daughter? SHUT UP, it’s your job! No, he wants to give you that Dilf dick!" 

“Oh, my god. Soojung!” You hushed, immediately feeling your face burn. The thought hadn't even crossed your mind because it was so unbelievable. 

Saturday was not that long away, the last two days of school flew by, and whilst you were emotional, your mind was also a little too preoccupied with the weekend and what it all meant. Gradually, you’d finally had to admit to yourself that this was probably, most definitely a date. The word sent a fear through your body like no other. Despite being single for three years, you had been on a few first dates in that time, and obviously they had never led to anything. In fact, it had been over a year since your last and that's when you had sworn off dating altogether. 

Min Yoongi. That was the last guy you'd said yes too. A fifth grade teacher at Primrose Hill up until last September. (That had nothing to do with you, by the way, he'd just moved cities last summer to pursue a different career. The date hadn't been that bad...) He was easy on the eye and funny, although maybe a little too sarcastic at times, so much so, you hadn't been able to pick up on the signals until he was cornering you in the staff room and asking you to watch a movie with him that coming weekend. Being both teachers, you'd assumed you'd hit it off straight away, but that wasn't the case. It turned out that Yoongi pretty much hated his job, only there for the extended vacations. That was perfectly fine, you guessed, but you realised that a man like that wasn't for you. How could you both love and hate the same job? It just wasn't feasible. 

You didn't miss dating, mostly because you hadn't been that into the idea anyway. But now? Now that the idea had presented itself again? After the most peculiar string of events, you had suddenly found yourself being asked out for dinner by the man who had hit your car, and you were… excited. For the first time in forever, you were excited for a date.  

You hadn’t felt like this since –

Since Donghae. 

Even thinking his name turned your heart heavy. Not as bad as the original heartbreak three years ago, but the memory was still enough to dampen your mood, if even for a moment. You'd met one another during your last year of college and had stayed together for the next five years. He'd been your forever man, the one you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with – he had proposed to you on your 26th birthday after all... Only, being his fiancé hadn't lasted. Since months later he confessed to cheating on you – repeatedly with a girl that worked in the Starbucks near his work building. It had been the pressure of settling down, that's what he'd told you. He was still young, had been very young when you'd gotten together in college and he wanted to experience life properly. His friends were out clubbing every weekend while he stayed inside playing boardgames with you and your friends. Your friends, as if they weren't his too, as if you all hadn't been joined at the hip in college... 

Your life had pretty much crumbled after that. Everything you'd known had been ripped from under your feet and you had no idea what to do or where to go. One day you had been someone's wife-to-be and the next you were a lonely, broken human. You moved in with Soojung, had to take a month off work because you couldn't function properly, and slowly had to learn how to live your life without the love of your life. 

It took a while, but gradually you got there. You and Soojung found a new, bigger place to live – where you still lived now – and you found ways to stop thinking about him, went on weekend vacations and started new hobbies. It took just over a year to feel yourself again but dating never seemed right. 

Soojung slowly encouraged you to try it out, but the handful that happened in that twelve month period just felt forced – even the one with Yoongi, which had pretty much happened organically (as in, Soojung hadn't set it up…), felt like it was missing something. In a way you knew you were comparing everyone to Donghae, you couldn't help it. You couldn't imagine potentially falling in love with someone else again. He was all you'd known for so long, and once upon a time your relationship had been amazing. He'd been amazing. Getting out of that mindset had been difficult, but there had been an even more difficult one... One you were still struggling with now. The issue of opening up your heart again. 

Truthfully, that's why you’d stayed single for so long. Why you'd given up on dating and didn't want to know. The thought of you meeting and falling for someone only to inevitably get hurt again terrified you. You wouldn't say you had trust issues, you knew not every man was like Donghae, but just imagining your world crumbling like it had three years ago was enough to just give up. 

It wasn't like you were unhappy though. You’d meant all that stuff about liking where your life was heading. You had your friends and family and a job you loved. Your life was fulfilling, there was nothing missing. But maybe that’s what you’d needed to realise… Life worked in mysterious ways. Once you were happy and content maybe it was finally time to open up your heart again. 

The truth was, you were very, very attracted to Seokjin. You felt something, even when you wanted to poke his eyeballs out for being so annoying. Actually, thinking about it, maybe that’s why you’d been so scrappy, your mind was fighting with your heart… Despite the obvious differences between you both, you oddly weren’t fazed by that right now. Seokjin didn’t seem unrelatable in that sense. Yes, your lives were crazy different, but there was something between you. You were sure of it. The way he’d opened up to you on that bench, the way he’d smiled at you, and even the way he’d teased you. It had to mean something. 

Sometimes it was okay to trust your heart. That warm feeling weaving its way through your chest… Sometimes it was okay to be a little exposed. Not everyone was out to get you. 

What was the worst that could happen? The dinner never led to anything else? That would be okay, you’d get over it. But what if it did lead to something more…? 

You deserved to find out, right? 

Saturday morning you received a text from Seokjin. You were eating breakfast at the small table you had set up in the kitchen alongside Soojung. She had only just woken up and was still a little bleary eyed but still managed to instantly perk up at the mention of Seokjin. She demanded to see his message straight away. 

Unknown (9:32am)  Hi Y/N,  It’s Kim Seokjin, Arin’s father. Just wondering if you still want to have dinner tonight? If so, please let me know and I will send through the restaurant details. We can decide on a time for me to pick you up.  Regards, Seokjin 

She squealed. “This guy writes his texts like they’re emails. You just know he’s going to be a good lay.”

“Soojung,” you groaned.  She would not shut up about Dilf dick this and Dilf dick that. “What does that even mean?” 

“He’s a CEO,” she said simply, eyes wide as if that explained everything. “Of one of this country’s biggest companies. That’s like some type of erotic novel shit.” 

You groaned loudly, dropping your head into your hands, but she still continued – sadly. 

“But none of that creepy Fifty Shades of Grey stuff. This guy is a real gentleman. Like he puts your pleasure above all else. I think he’d be really good at going down on a woman.”

By this point, you’d stopped feeling flustered by her insane claims. They were just normal now. She was unbelievable. Why was she even thinking of these things and where did she come up with them? You didn’t want to think of Seokjin like that because you really wanted to keep your sanity for tonight. Plus, no way were you ready for something like that yet. You hoped Seokjin wasn’t anticipating something more. You were sure he wasn’t, you hadn’t gotten those vibes. Soojung was just being dumb. 

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t half talk some shit.” 

You wanted her to point out how cute his text was instead. Like how he’d said he was Arin’s father, you know, just in case you’d forgotten who he was in two days, but no, she was too caught up on potential erotic novel titles. 

You slipped to the side with a start when Soojung nudged your shoulder, getting all up into your personal space as she teased you. “I’m right though, huh?” 

You pushed her back. “This is just a dinner. Not the start of an erotic novel.”

She shrugged. “I’d read it.”

“What would you read?”

Taehyung’s voice appeared from the doorway and you both looked up to see him leaning against it, eyes still pretty much glued shut, his thick hair pulled all ways. 

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Soojung greeted, standing up to make her way towards him. You watched her wrap her arms around his middle, nuzzling into him. She’d only left him in bed not half an hour ago. Seeing your best friend in love was odd but nice. You weren’t used to sappy Soojung, but you had to admit it suited her well. They were cute together. 

Taehyung wrapped one arm around his girlfriend and lifted the other to his face, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “What are you guys yelling about down here? You woke me up.” 

“Y/N’s date tonight,” 

“Oh, Mr. Dilf?” He sniggered, perking up. 

Soojung screeched and joined in. “CEO Dilf dick.” 

“You told him?!” You whined, standing to dump your bowl in the sink. 

“Of course.” Taehyung smiled smugly. “She tells me everything. Don’t you, babe?”

“Yep.” She grinned. You watched in minor amusement as Taehyung leant down to peck her mouth, Soojung gagging loudly. “Your breath stinks.” 

.

.

You replied to Seokjin promptly – well as soon as Soojung and Taehyung had vacated the kitchen – and not long after that he messaged back with the restaurant details, asking if it was okay to pick you up at 7pm. You sent him your address, almost immediately freaking out. You knew his wealth hadn't fazed you that bad, seeing as he was so easy to talk to, but your place and his place were on different planes of existence. You knew it wouldn't bother him, he wasn't like that, you knew that now, but you were still a little self-conscious. It was probably the nerves regarding today. The reality was setting it. The slight doubt… 

Soojung wasn't helping. 

“There’s steaks on the menu that are more than our rent a week," she awed, looking down at her phone. 

Why had you given her the name of the restaurant again? You would never learn your lesson. She had already googled his name when you’d told her he was the CEO of LG and she had been this close to searching his net worth before you’d stopped her. You didn’t want to know, not only was it incredibly invasive, it made you feel slightly faint. Seeing his image pop up online was enough for you . A professional headshot, he smiled kindly into the camera lens. It was crazy to think that it was the man you’d be going to dinner with. 

Soojung would be good for one thing though – helping you decide on an outfit for tonight. Taehyung had gone home a couple of hours ago, needed at the bar he owned so she had nothing else better to do. Not that she was listening to you though… 

She shrugged. “What did I expect? This dude is a billionaire." 

“He’s not." 

Billionaire seemed a lot more intimidating than a millionaire, but in reality what was the difference? He was unbelievably rich and you were just... you. You shook your head, attempting to claw yourself out of the anxiety hole you'd found yourself in. His job didn't matter. The restaurant he'd chosen didn't matter. You were going for dinner with him to enjoy his company and get to know him better. The finer details were irrelevant. 

“Come on! If not he must be a multi-multimillionaire." She rationalised. "His dad is the billionaire."

You groaned. "Will you stop making me nervous and help me pick something to wear?" 

You decided on the midi dress you'd actually worn to Eunbi's wedding last summer. It was the only fancy thing you had – or at least fancy enough to dine at a restaurant that sold insane dollar steaks. But wait, the restaurant wasn't supposed to matter, remember? 

You still wanted to look nice though. The dress was modest in itself but maybe the colour was a bit eye-catching – a deep red. Soojung said it was perfect and you'd knock his Dilf socks off. By now you were getting sick of the word. You told her as much.

"What if I don't want to sleep with him?"

"As if." She scoffed. "Your dry spell has gone on far too long. You deserve this." She caught the look of apprehension on your face. "When you're ready of course."

"Don't make me –”

"Nervous, I know" she finished for you, sighing loudly. "There's no need to be. Mr. Dilf is whipped for you, I just know it."

How did she know? She hadn't even met him, but you appreciated the sentiment. You did not appreciate it when she was being a clever bitch though. 

"I'm just trying to work this out." She said, watching you apply your mascara in the bathroom mirror. It was much later in the day now, about forty minutes before Seokjin was due to pick you up. You were dressed, hair up, makeup nearly done, and sick to your stomach with anticipation. You hummed, letting her know you'd heard her and to continue. 

"You were mad when Dilf spent money on your car but you're okay with him spending mad money on you at this restaurant?" 

"Soojung," you warned, staring at her reflection in the glass. 

She held her hands up in apology. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just curious. Is it okay when it's food?"

You sighed. You knew it didn't really make sense, you guessed, but well, you'd said yes to the dinner. You hadn't said yes to the car being repaired. That was the difference. 

"I'm not going to order the most expensive thing on the menu." 

"Well, don't just order a side salad, he'll think you're weird..." 

You simply stared at her. Her input was so appreciated. 

.

.

“He’s here, oh my god, he’s here!” Soojung screamed, spying through the voile curtains in the living room. "Ten minutes early. I love that." 

“Soojung, move away, now." You told her sternly. 

“The fucking car–” She cut herself with a muffled sound. As if she was trying to stifle her own screams. You guessed he'd gotten out of said car. “What the fuck, what the fuck, he’s SO hot. I’m going to pass out."

“Soojung!" Dropping your phone into your purse you slipped on your heels, nearly tripping over in the process. You gripped onto the back of the couch just in time. "I swear to god if he sees you." 

She spun around, pointing an accusing finger at you. “You never said he was that hot." 

You shrugged. "You never asked."

"I asked every goddamn second of the day. You lucky bitch." She walked towards you, fixing a piece of your hair that had fallen into your eyes. “How come you get hot billionaire Dilf and I get the man-child whose special talent is making cocktails." 

"Shut up," you scoffed. She loved Taehyung and his cocktail making skills. That's how they'd met after all. She drunk at the bar three days a week for a month straight until he asked her out. 

The doorbell rung and you froze, remembering how nervous you were. Soojung's antics had distracted you for a while but now reality was setting in. As you turned to leave she tapped your ass. “Get that Dilf dick, girl!”

"Soojung, I swear to god –”

"I won't wait up."

Ha. As if. She'd be glued to that window until Seokjin dropped you off back home. You knew her all too well, you'd been best friends for over ten years. 

In the entryway now, you didn't have time for breathing exercises. Although, you wished you'd had once you opened the door to see Seokjin stood there looking devastating handsome. 

“Hi," he smiled, eyes lighting up when he saw you. 

“Hey," you managed to squeeze out, cemented to the ground. 

He was dressed in a double breasted navy two piece that must have been tailored to fit his body down to the millimetre, a crisp white dress shirt on underneath. His hair looked shorter, falling just above is eyebrows and parted slightly in the middle. He looked good enough to eat. Or good enough to make you pass out. Either one. 

“You look beautiful," he awed, rendering you pretty speechless. 

This was a date. It really was a date. 

"Thank you," you managed to reply, needing to return the compliment. But what could you possibly say?! “You look…really good." 

Oh god. How embarrassing. 

Especially when Seokjin burst out laughing, that familiar squeak to it that you'd heard at the parent-teacher meeting. "I'll take it. Thanks." He tilted his head. "Are you ready to go? I'm a bit early, I know. Sorry about that." 

You nodded, clutching your purse tight to your side. "I, uh... I would invite you in to kill time but my best friend’s embarrassing." You raised your voice a little so she'd hear you, but on her best behaviour she stayed deathly silent. Well done, Soojung. 

Seokjin raised an eyebrow, a little confused, but you figured you'd fill him in inside the car. "It's fine," he shook his head.

Seeing you stepping forward he moved to the side, outstretching his arm to invite you to lead the way. You did, making sure not to look back towards the living room window, because you knew for a fact you'd see Soojung pressed up against it. 

.

.

“This is all new for me.” Seokjin admitted, sat opposite you as you waited for your dessert. “I haven’t been on a date for years.”

To say the night had gone well would be an understatement. At first you’d been too nervous to even breathe, especially with Seokjin looking like that just a few centimetres away from you as he drove. It didn’t help that he seemed to be some type of regular at the restaurant, getting greeted as if he was an old friend of the manager and led to his ‘usual’ table; a quiet spot away from the hustle and bustle. It turned out he co-owned the place with his brother, looking mildly embarrassed as he told you. It was cute, but he had nothing to be self-conscious over, this was his life, normal to him. I hope you don’t see it as a cop-out, he confessed, causing some confusion your end. Why would you see it that way? This restaurant was beautiful, certainly popular, and you couldn’t wait to try the food. You told him as much and he laughed about feeling nervous now. 

You tried lobster for the first time ever – his recommendation. It was kind of messy, but he ordered the same so you were both in it together. You laughed, you joked, you got to know one another more. Conversation came easy, both relaxed in one another’s company, and after the main you both decided to share a dessert, too stuffed for anything more. 

“Snap,” you grinned, silently happy that was the case, although rather amazed. Seokjin was, well… him, who wouldn’t want to snap him up? However then again, he was a busy, divorced father. Dating probably wasn’t high up on his list. You were so distracted by his confession, you didn’t even comprehend he’d used the word ‘date.’ 

“Really?” Seokjin’s eyes bulged slightly. Why was he so surprised? 

You shrugged casually. “It’s been well over a year since my last date.”  

Seokjin’s mouth curved, amused. “Try over ten.” 

“I wasn’t aware this was a competition,” you laughed, but yes, he indeed had you beat. 

He laughed along, the arrival of your lemon cheesecake interrupting you both for a moment. It was a few bites later when the conversation got back on track again, Seokjin’s tone careful as he looked across at you, both of you reaching for another bit of the cheesecake with your dessert forks. “You don’t mind me calling this a date, do you? This isn’t the part where you tell me you’ve been in a relationship for five years and you just thought this was an innocent thank you dinner?”

You giggled softy, shaking your head. “No. I don’t mind you calling it a date.” You brought the fork up to your mouth, taking your time to chew before you continued. “Soojung was adamant it was but I… didn’t want get my hopes up?” You wanted to be honest. This night was about opening yourself up to the uncertain. 

“Soojung, your best friend? The one you live with?” He asked. 

You nodded. You’d already told him all about your best friend, about how you lived with each other. Seokjin hadn’t bat an eyelid, which was nice. You weren’t embarrassed or anything, but the differences in your living arrangements were stark. He thought it sounded fun. He still remembered living with his best friend Namjoon back in college and how entertaining that had been. He’d definitely be up for it again if they weren’t both dads now – divorced at that, but hey ho, that was life. 

“Well, she was correct.” Seokjin continued. “I thought I made it clear but I guess I was too cryptic.” 

“So, which one is it?” You asked, lifting an eyebrow in interest. “Not an innocent thank you dinner or not an innocent dinner?” 

You were feeling brave, however your heart still thudded inside your chest, adrenaline whooshing through your veins. There was something about Seokjin that made you act so out of character… 

Seokjin failed to conceal the visible surprise across his features and you watched him swallow before he composed himself, a smirk appearing on his lips immediately. “If I didn’t know any better I would say you were flirting with me right now.”

You shrugged. “I’m just checking if your intentions are innocent or not?” You took another bite of the cheesecake. 

His smirk grew, and you watched him drop his fork onto the plate to lean back in his chair. “I would say they are, however, I did have plans to kiss you on the cheek tonight, so maybe, busted?” He chuckled then, at himself – he liked doing that you’d noticed. It was kind of cute. 

The butterflies were back. Now there was no need to ignore or try to explain them. You took them as what they were – a good sign. Humming aloud, you tilted your head to the side and pretended to contemplate. “I think I can let you do that.” 

Seokjin laughed. “You can? Okay, that sounds good.” 

You reached for your glass of wine, needing a sip just to calm the flurry inside of you. Seokjin tucked his chair closer, still laughing but quietly now, more like a chuckle. “Honestly, I was pretty much shitting my pants today.” 

You snorted into your glass, taken by surprise at his choice of words. “Sorry,” you apologised, feeling a little bit embarrassed by the sound that had just left your nose. He didn’t same fazed. “I was nervous too.” 

That seemed to settle him. He smiled fondly, fingers tracing the brim of his glass. “I guess we were being silly.” His lips parted to say something else but he hesitated. You watched him take a quiet exhale, then he continued. “My therapist has been begging me to try dating again for months but the thought has always been pretty terrifying.” He gave a small shrug, his warm eyes locking with yours. “Until I met you.” 

You could feel your heart rate speeding up, unable to stop the smile that spread across your face. He was pleased, grinning back, posture visibly relaxing. “She said I should face up to my fears and just ask you out.” 

There were a lot of thoughts whirring through your mind right now. The fact he felt comfortable enough to disclose with you that he had a therapist, and the fact that he’d even mentioned you to her, that she had encouraged him to ask you out. The fact he’d liked you enough to want to take the plunge at all. After two years of being alone, you were the woman who had made him want to try again… It felt comparable to your own thoughts, to your feelings… and that’s why you felt so relaxed tonight. It just felt right. 

“I like you, Y/N.” He confessed. “I know we don’t know one another very well, but I hope that this is just the beginning.” 

Despite his words sending your butterflies crazy, you kept your cool, trying to stunt your smile. “You’re not so bad yourself, I guess.” 

He chuckled. You let yourself smile at the sound. “Not so bad. I’ll take it.” He picked up his fork again, taking a bite of the cheesecake you’d both forgotten about. His voice was careful, genuine to match his expression, when he carried on. “Despite the circumstances of how we met and what followed, I don’t know, I haven’t felt a spark like that in forever.” He reached for a sip of his wine, laughing. “What do you think? You can call me crazy if you want.” 

“I think you’re right.” There was no doubt about it now. You’d been adamant in the beginning that was nothing there – no spark, no flirting, insisting Soojung was wrong, but now you couldn’t deny the obvious attraction. You’d immediately bounced off one another that evening during the parent-teacher meeting, despite your annoyance the day before. 

You grinned. “You frustrated me to no end but I felt something too.” 

He tilted his head to the left, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Frustrated you? How so?”

“You know how,” you laughed. “I may or may not have called you an exasperating bastard in my head.” 

He couldn’t contain himself then, taken back and genuinely amused. “Oh god,” he practically wheezed. “I like that one.” 

You laughed along, unable not to when the sound he made brought you such joy. You reached for another forkful of cheesecake, the dessert nearly coming to an end. Just like the date, you thought. You didn’t want it to end, you were enjoying yourself too much. 

“What about now?”

You looked up at Seokjin, eyes widening in question. What did he mean? He was staggeringly composed now, although his eyes shone with mischief as he grinned and explained. “Do I frustrate you now?”

You tried to stunt your own smile, shrugging your shoulders. “Not tonight.” 

“At the fate?”

“Nope.” 

He nodded his head, seemingly happy with your answers. “I guess things are looking up then.” He picked up his glass again, about to take a sip before he paused and added,  “Although, I must admit, I liked frustrating you. You look so cute when your mad.” 

You felt heat immediately burn its way to your cheeks, hoping the lighting in this restaurant was dim enough not to make it obvious. He took a swig of his wine. “Watch it, Mr. Kim.” As he chuckled it muffled inside the glass.  

You went for the last piece of cheesecake, figuring you were owed that now. You looked across at him as you chewed, knowing that if you really wanted this to happen again you needed to let him know. Face up to your fears of opening up, telling people how you really felt. “I’d like to get to know you better, Seokjin.”

“Really?” He sounded hopeful, fingers playing with the rim of his wine glass again. 

“Mmhm.” You nodded. “You seem like a lovely man if we ignore the car stealing...” 

“Hey,” he whined, “you apologised for that already, you can’t bring it up again.” You held your hands up in silent defence, chuckling silently, watching him lean closer. “But please, go back to what you were saying about me being a lovely man. Stroke my ego, it’s been a long week.” 

Had it? You were curious, concerned really. You thought to ask him if he wanted to talk about it, but you guessed the last thing he’d like to do was discuss work on a date. Instead, you decided to tell him about what attracted you most to him. The thing that had inevitably made you change your mind and realise that maybe, quite possibly, you’d misjudged him.

“Arin really adores you and I can see how much you dote on her. Any man cherished by his child is a good one in my eyes.” 

“Oh.” He simply replied, possibly at a loss of words. He looked touched – happy, but ultimately unsure of what to reply, so he bypassed it in a way, raising an eyebrow. “So is there some kind of checklist?” 

“What do you mean?” 

He gave a slight shrug. “Like, ‘kids like him – check.’ ‘He knows how to clean dishes – check.’ – I can by the way. I’m really good with a pair of washing up gloves and some dish soap.” 

You burst out laughing, not quite believing your ears. “Yeah, okay.” You admitted. “There’s a list.” Didn’t every woman have one? 

“Let’s see how I fare then.” Seokjin said, sounding sure of himself as he leant back in his seat, hands behind his head – the image of casual. Maybe you were into this cocky Seokjin… It was sort of hot. 

“Okay so…” You began, leaning forward. “Family man – check.” You’d already approved that one. “Loves animals?”

He scoffed. “Easy. Animals are so much better than humans.” 

Okay, more points his way… “Uhh.” You thought aloud, racking your brains. “Does he make me laugh?”

Seokjin mulled it over. “That sounds like a decision you have to make, but I think it’s a yes? I mean, you’ve been laughing all night. Unless you were just being nice.” 

“No, you are funny,” you confirmed, although you were unable to miss an opportunity to mess around with him. “You have that, what should I call it,” you pretended to think, “that old man type sense of humour.”

“Hey. I’m not that old,” he huffed. 

You chuckled quietly. True, he wasn’t old, but you were still surprised when you’d found out he was turning 38 this coming December. Some people were blessed with ageing gracefully. Of course he was one of them. The man looked amazing for someone two years away from forty. 

“What about you?” You wondered. “Do you have a checklist?”

He sat upright again, setting his elbow on the table to drop his chin in his palm, giving you his full attention. “Yes, and you check them all.” 

“I do?” You laughed in disbelief. Either he was easy to please or he wanted brownie points. 

He shrugged, as if to say of course. “You’re funny, caring, can be kind of scary at times – which I’m sort of into, to be honest.” 

“I’m not scary,” you protested, pouting slightly. However, what? He was into it? That made you feel funny…

He smirked. “I beg to differ.” 

You rolled your eyes. “What else do I check off?”

He didn’t need time to think. “You’re insanely beautiful.” Your dumbfounded expression made him second guess himself. He pulled a face. “Yikes. Too cheesy?”

You grinned, getting a hold of yourself. “Maybe, but then again, maybe I like that.” How could you not like being called beautiful? How could you not like receiving a compliment? Especially from him. 

He smiled, gazing into your eyes as he leant forward. You felt immediate warmth when his hand cupped yours across the table. This was the first time he’d touched you, right? Your mind was a blur right now, unable to recall two hours ago, let alone two weeks ago. When he spoke, you only felt warmer, the soft timbre of his voice fluttering through your whole body. “I’m really attracted to you, Y/N.” 

And what could you say to that? You swallowed, wetting your throat, realising it had become dry. He was waiting for a reply, amused by something – your blank looking face most probably. He had the ability to render you speechless, and he knew it. He liked it. 

Well, no, not on your watch. You’d get the last word. You’d win. 

Composing yourself, you slipped your hand from under his, tapping it lightly, as if you were consoling him. “I’ve said it once already, but you’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Kim.” 

Taken aback, he chuckled quietly in bemusement, shaking his head. “You’re going to give me wrinkles.”  

.

.

A man of his word, he did kiss you on the cheek after the date was over. He waited until he had driven you home and opened the door for you to step out of the car – ever the gentleman, you’d teased. You stood by the little gate that lead a pathway to your front door, and that’s where he’d leant down to place his lips ever so lightly against the top of your left cheek. You smiled shyly up at him, unable to play it cool this time. 

He looked a little rosy in the face too, unsure as he smiled. “I had a lovely time tonight.” 

“Me too,” you agreed. “Can I take you out next time?” You surprised yourself by the offer, that kiss must have shot some confidence into you. 

He looked surprised too, but into it, tilting his head in curiosity as he looked down at you. “Where do you suggest?”

“My place?” Okay, so it wasn’t ‘taking him out’ but you liked the idea best. Soojung could stay over Tae’s. She owed you one. “I can cook for you,” you offered, a hand unconsciously reaching for the collar of his jacket, straightening it for him. “To you know, return the favour of you paying for dinner to say sorry for paying for my car to get fixed.” 

His hand clasped around yours, dropping it between your bodies to hold it as he chuckled. 

“This is getting a little confusing now.” He swung your hand gently and you curled your little finger around his loosely. You could get used to this physical contact. It felt ordinary, like you’d been doing it forever. “Can’t we just call it dating and have done?”

You rolled your shoulders with a sigh, sounding casual and unbothered. “I guess, if it’s easier.” 

Seokjin’s laugh got lower, his face closer. His eyes kept looking between your eyes and lips, and you realised your heart was beginning to beat slower, or was it faster? You couldn’t tell anymore, but you could hear it pounding lightly inside your ears. You were in the middle of playing the same game – eyes then lips, eyes then lips – the seconds feeling more like minutes as he leant in closer and closer, but then – 

You spotted Soojung in the window as you happened to glance behind Seokjin’s shoulder. She had now totally bypassed the voile curtain, thinking she was Miss. Inconspicuous with the lights off. The street lighting was as bright as anything though, and all you could see was her face glowing like a ghost as she ruined the moment entirely. You were not having your first kiss with Seokjin in front of her prying eyes. 

Seokjin realised your attention was elsewhere now, awkwardly pulling back to scratch his neck with his free hand. You clutched at the hand that was holding yours, not wanting him to think you’d blown him off. He didn’t say anything though, just continued your conversation with a bemused smile. “Um, so what are you going to cook?” 

“What do you like?” You asked, only half your attention on him. Maybe you could silently signal to Soojung, tell her to get the hell out of the window before Seokjin noticed. 

“I’m easy,” you heard him reply. “What’s your speciality?”

“Uh…” Think Y/N, think. Distracted you said the first thing that popped into your head, still trying to force Soojung away with just your eyeballs. “Lasagne.”

“Lasagne?” He sounded interested. 

You finally met his eyes for more than five seconds, feeling a little panicky. “Yeah, my World Famous Italian lasagne.” 

Oh no. 

Seokjin laughed, dropping your hand to cup your cheek instead. Earlier, if this had happened you would have spontaneously combusted but now you had a case of the Nosey Friend and you couldn’t concentrate to save your life. “Okay, now you’re just talking big.” 

You couldn’t help it, your eyes attempting to dart past his shoulder again. He noticed – he’d probably noticed this entire time, an eyebrow of his raising. “What is going on over my shoulder?” 

You tried to stop him, clinging to his elbow, but he turned around anyway, eyes falling on Soojung immediately. You saw her instantly panic and jump back, dropping the curtain in front of the window again.  “That’s just Soojung,” you sighed. “Ignore her, she’s an idiot.” 

Seokjin was deeply amused, laughing as he turned back to you. “So, is next Saturday okay?” You pressed. 

He grinned. “Saturday sounds perfect to me.” 

As you said your goodbyes, Seokjin turned to the window and gave a small wave, chortling to himself. You couldn’t see Soojung anymore but you just knew she was still spying. But relieved Seokjin didn’t seem fazed, you made your way inside, giving Seokjin a wave by the door as he pulled off, feeling happy, yet a little sad the night was over already. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d enjoyed yourself like that. 

It was only when you were inside did you remember what you’d just done, too preoccupied to think properly beforehand. Oh God, the lasagne. Saturday night was going to be a disaster. 

Soojung came running into the entry way, interrupting your freak out. “He saw me! He saw me!” Her voice was shrill, and you couldn’t tell if it was because she was embarrassed or excited. 

“That’s what happens when you spy, idiot,” you swiped, kicking off your heels. The instant relief brought you no comfort. “Soo, I’ve done something stupid.” You admitted. 

She instantly looked worried. “What? What have you done?”

You sighed, already feeling like a fool. “Okay so, I invited him over next weekend and said I’d cook for him.” 

“Girl is horny for that D–”

“Shut up, that’s not the problem,” you stopped her. She looked puzzled. “You were distracting me!” It was all her fault. You weren’t taking the blame. “He asked me what I was gonna cook and I told him I make a World Famous Italian lasagne!” 

Your best friend was silent for an extended second, making sense of your words before she burst out laughing. Highly dramatic, practically doubled over, splitting her sides. Even more dramatic than you for freaking out over a damn lasagne. 

“You have never made lasagne in your entire life!” She exclaimed. “What were you thinking?” 

“It was your fault!” It was also her fault you didn’t get to kiss Seokjin properly too. But you weren’t going to bring that up now, unable to bear the constant teasing that would ensue. 

“My fault?!” She laughed. You just rolled your eyes. She did not appreciate that at all. “Whatever. I can’t wait to see your “World Famous Italian lasagne.” Make sure to save me some, won’t you?”

“Right,” you huffed. “For that, I’m not telling you how the date went.” 

She soon changed her tune, needing all the details just to be able to sleep tonight… 

Written 2020 - 2021.  Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#jin fanfic #bts fanfic #seokjin fanfic #floralseokjin:writings #fic:mls

[triptuckers]

Revenge - Kaz Brekker

Request: yes :) “seeing as your requests are open, i thought i might as well pitch you an idea too, since i'm here... how about a little bit of a twist on the usual hurt/comfort, angst, etc with kaz? like... instead of getting hurt because of him, he's the one who gets hurt because of the reader? maybe she joined the dregs, running away from her past. but then someone wanting revenge finds her, sees how much she cares for kaz, and decides to get back at her by going after him... idk where exactly i'm going with this, it's just an idea, the details i leave up to you :))” Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader Summary:  You thought you’d be safe from the people in your past once you got to Ketterdam, but you couldn’t have been more wrong Warnings: mentions of blood, injuries, bruising, death, language, angst Word count:  2.4K A/N: to the one who send me this request: your lil message made me feel so happy & loved, I am so glad you appreciate my work <3 sending you lots of hugs! thanks for requesting this, enjoy reading! :)

You’re standing on one of the docks. You’ve got your coat wrapped tightly around you to protect yourself from the cold wind. It’s dark outside, and most of Ketterdam is deserted, its residents retired to the comfort of their warm houses.

You like to come to the docks and look out over the sea. It calms you. The sound of the waves, the salty air, it all reminds you of your past, and you go to the docks to tell yourself you don’t ever have to go back if you don’t want to.

It’s not that you hated your entire past, just parts of it. For a while, you were actually quite happy. Sailing the seas, laughing along with your crew, and taking what you wanted from rich politicians who dared to cross your waters. 

It was fine for a while, only taking from those who already had too much. It didn’t bother you. But then your captain started to take from everyone and everything, and using more violence. You were hesitant, but didn’t say much. Even though your crew was basically your family, they could easily toss you in the sea. But then your captain started to take people as well, not just things. He forced them to work on his ship, and you knew it was wrong.

When you spoke up about it, they turned on you, threatening you. You were to work with the prisoners, and it was horrible. So, when you saw the opportunity, you jumped ship, along with a few prisoners. The sea was cold, and you swam for nearly three days, when a ship picked you up. It was headed to Kerch. When you set foot on the Ketterdam docks, you vowed to never sail again. You parted ways with the people that had been taken prisoner, and joined the Dregs soon after.

Part of you is still scared your captain or someone else of your old crew finds you, and gets their revenge on you. But since joining the Dregs, you’ve improved your fighting and survival skills, and the other members of the Dregs have your back. 

When the wind is almost too cold, and the sky is pitch black, you decide to head back to the Slat. You liked staying on the docks, but it wasn’t wise to stay out on the streets of Ketterdam for too long, especially when it was dark.

After one last look at the sea, you turn and start walking back to the Slat. Your hand is on one of your revolvers as you walk, eyes open and ears focused on any sounds you hear. You had been jumped before, and knew it wouldn’t be the last time it would happen.

You keep your head down as you’re walking, but then you notice a figure in the distance. You slow down and take another look at the person ahead of you. You can see they’re limping, and realise they must be hurt. Instantly, you’re on edge, in case their attacker is still close.

You pick up the pace again, looking at the person in front of you as you approach them. The closer you get, the more familiar they seem. And then you’re close enough to recognise a cane.

Normally, you’d tell yourself it probably wouldn’t be Kaz. Lately, every figure or silhouette looked like Kaz to you. But it was unmistakably Kaz’ cane, and you knew he would never allow anyone to take it from him.

‘Kaz!’ you say and you sprint the last bit to get to him. When you get to him, your jaw drops when you see him. He’s got several stab wounds on his upper body, and his face is bruised and bloody.

‘What are you doing here?' says Kaz as soon as he notices it’s you. ‘It’s not safe here.’ he grumbles.

‘It’s Ketterdam at night. Of course it’s not safe.’ you say, letting your eyes roam over his body, looking at his injuries.

‘It’s not safe for you.’ says Kaz, wincing as he presses a hand to one of his wounds to apply pressure to it.

‘What does that mean?’ you say, frowning.

‘Your former captain says hi.’ says Kaz.

Your eyes widen at his words and your breath catches in your throat. Had he found you? Did he somehow manage to track you all the way to Ketterdam? 

‘He did this to you?’ you say. Kaz nods.

‘Saints, Kaz, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. He blames me for freeing some of the prisoners. Rightfully, though. I’d already figured he’d send someone after me if he learned I was in Ketterdam. I never would have thought he’d send someone after you.’ you say.

You look at his beaten up body again. Somehow, he still managed to look good. His suit is dusty and bloody, but it still fit his body perfectly. His hair is messy and there’s sweat on his forehead, but you don’t mind.

‘I’m sorry, Kaz.’ you say. ‘This is all my fault.’

You want to move closer to him to help him, but you know he’d never allow you to. So you keep your distance. 

Kaz doesn’t respond to you, instead he moves to continue walking. It results into him nearly falling to the floor. You have to hold yourself back not to catch him. Kaz clutches his cane to prevent his body from hitting the floor.

‘We have to get you back to the Slat.’ you say, still keeping your distance. The last thing you want to do is trigger something in him when you’re the one that got him hurt in the first place.

Kaz pushes himself up with his cane, groaning as he straightens his back.

‘Can you walk?’ you ask him.

‘I can manage.’ he says through gritted teeth. But he takes two steps and almost falls down again. You clench your fists to prevent yourself from reaching out to him. You can’t handle that he’s hurt and you can’t even help him to walk.

‘Y/N.’ he says. His voice his softer than usual, and it catches you off guard. ‘You need to help me walk.’ he says.

‘Kaz, I don’t want to-’ ‘I want you to. I need you to.’

You slowly walk up to him. He looks you in your eyes and gives you a single nod, silently giving you permission.

‘I don’t know Kaz.’ you say. ‘It feels wrong, touching you.’

‘Y/N, the longer we’re out here, the longer we are in danger and the more risk of me bleeding to death on the streets, is that something you want?’ snaps Kaz.

‘No, of course not!’ you say.

‘Then come here.’ he says and with one swift movement, he pulls you closer and swings one of his arms over your shoulder.

‘If at any point you want to stop, I get it.’ you say, a bit flustered now that you’re so close to him.

‘Y/N just get me to the damn Slat.’ says Kaz. ‘But could you just... Tell what you’re going to do while you’re doing it? Makes it easier.’

‘Of course.’ you say. ‘I'm going to put my hand around your waist, and grab your hand with the other, okay?’

You see him clench his jaw as he nods. You slowly move to wrap your arm around his waist. You then wait a few seconds before grabbing ahold of his gloved hand that’s on your shoulder.

‘Alright.’ you say. ‘Ready?’ 

Kaz nods and you start to walk toward the Slat.

The journey is slow, and you try your best to keep Kaz talking and conscious. But he’s losing a lot of blood, leaving a trail of red drops behind on the street.

When you finally get to the Slat and push its door open, it’s crowded. A lot of heads turn your way as you scan the crowd for Nina. When you spot her, you see her eyes have widened as she looks at Kaz. You signal for her to follow you and you start to walk up the stairs to Kaz’ floor. 

When you finally get there, you walk to his room and lay him down on the bed. 

‘What happened?’ says Nina as she enters the room.

‘Someone of my past got to Kaz.’ you mumble, struggling to meet Kaz’ eyes. ‘Roughed him up pretty bad.’

Nina moves to see to his internal wounds and you can see Kaz keeps his jaw clenched at the close proximity to another person. When she’s done, he moves to sit up.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ you say.

‘Business.’ groans Kaz and you raise your eyebrows at him.

‘Kaz Brekker, I did not drag your ass all the way from the docks to the Slat, only for you to resume working instead of resting.’ you say.

‘I'm fine.’

‘You almost bled to death in the streets!’ you say. ‘Half your body is covered in wounds and Nina’s only healed the internal ones.’

‘I can manage.’

‘Like hell you can.’ you say. ‘I'll take over the Dregs for a while. And as for you, let someone see to your wounds. And honestly, would it kill you to take a nap every now and then?’

‘I can see to my own wounds.’

You groan and throw your hands up out of frustration. ‘Fine!’ you say. ‘Go bandage those wounds all by yourself, I'm not helping!’

Nina steps closer to you ‘I can-’ ‘And Nina’s not going to help you either!’ you say. ‘If you want to be stubborn and suffer, be my guest!’

You leave his room and move to sit by the window of his office instead. A while later Nina leaves the room, telling you Kaz has started to fix himself up. 

You stay in his office, trying to get your anger to go away. You close your eyes and imagine the sea, taking deep breaths. You can almost taste the salty air and feel the cold wind on your skin. You’ve done a pretty good job at calming yourself down, when you hear Kaz’ voice coming from his room.

‘Y/N?’ he says.

You open your eyes, walk up to his room and pause in the doorway. He’s sitting up on the bed. He’d taken his shirt off and put bandages around his chest. The cuts and bruises on his arms and face aren’t treated yet.

You always thought of Kaz as this indestructible man, who led a gang, and is considered one of the most dangerous criminals and most talented thieves in all of Ketterdam. But when he’s sitting on the bed, bruised and bloody, shoulders slumped and tired eyes, you see him for who he truly is: a boy who’s been hurt too many times before and needs help.

He holds out the bandages and wet cloth he used to clean his wounds. 

‘Could you...?’ he asks.

You notice he’s not meeting your eyes and realise how hard it must have been to admit he needs your help.

You nod and walk over to him. You take the bandages and the cloth from his hands without touching his skin, and drag out a chair so you can sit in front of him. You glance at the gloves that rest on the bed next to him. You put the bandages and cloth aside and grab the gloves.

‘What are you doing?’ says Kaz, looking at you as you put them on.

‘This way I can treat your wounds without having skin to skin contact.’ you say. ‘Maybe that makes it easier.’ 

Kaz looks at you and smiles.

‘You’re so tired you can’t even fight off your own muscles?’ you ask. ‘I’m pretty sure that’s the first time I've seen you smile.’

‘I smile more than you think.’ says Kaz.

‘hmm.’ you hum. ‘Sure.’ you say as you move to start cleaning his wounds.

You try your best to talk to him and distract him while you clean and bandage his wounds.

‘Why would your former captain go after me and not you?’ he wonders out loud after a while.

‘Because when you want to hurt someone, you don’t hurt them, you hurt the ones they care most about.’ you simply state.

Kaz is surprised. ‘You care about me?’

‘Of course I do. I never tried to hide that.’ you say. 

You continue to clean his wounds, unaware of Kaz looking at your face instead of your hands.

‘You really scared me, Kaz. I thought you were going to die.’ you mumble.

‘It takes more than a knife and one angry man to kill me.’ he says.

‘He tried really hard though.’ you mumble as you continue to clean and bandage his wounds.

‘But he didn’t succeed.’ says Kaz. ‘If it weren’t for you, he would have. You got me back to the Slat and got Nina to fix me up.’

‘After I basically forced you to.’ you say.

‘If you hadn’t, I would have done it all by myself. Who knows how that would have worked out.’ says Kaz.

‘I'm guessing not that good.’ you say, earning a small chuckle from him. 

You continue talking to him and treating his wounds. When you’re finished, you get up and gather the mess. You walk to the other side of the room to throw it in the bin, and then walk back to where Kaz is still sitting on the bed.

‘I know you don’t like this, but please try to get some rest.’ you say. ‘The Dregs can manage a week or so without you.’

Kaz nods and moves to lay down on his bed. You walk toward the door, but his voice stops you.

‘Y/N.’ he says, making you look over your shoulder at him. ‘Thank you.’

‘Of course.’ you say, smiling briefly. ‘And sorry, again. For getting beaten up because of me.’

‘A good beating every now and then never hurt anyone. Builds character.’ says Kaz.

‘Are you sure your brain didn’t get messed up?’ you say. ‘You’re talking nonsense.’

‘I’m merely stating facts. Now I've got another grudge to hold.’ says Kaz. ‘Now go so I can get some rest.’

You smile once more before leaving his room, shutting the door behind you. You had loved your life on the sea before it took a turn. But you’d gladly do it all over again if it meant you would find your way to Kaz.

You look down at your hands and notice you’re still wearing his gloves. You take them off and place them on his desk. After a while of looking at them, you head downstairs to tell the others what happened. 

A/N:  If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!!  Thank you for reading!  Much love,  Marit

#I am so in love with this angry master thief #he regularly beats people up and I still go uwu look at him he's so nice #kaz brekker #shadow and bone #grishaverse #Kaz Brekker x reader #Kaz Brekker x you #Kaz Brekker fanfiction #Kaz Brekker fanfic #Kaz Brekker fanfics #Kaz Brekker fic #Kaz Brekker fics #Kaz Brekker oneshot #Kaz Brekker oneshots #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfics #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fics #shadow and bone oneshots #shadow and bone oneshot

[amoristt]

Just a Dare | Nathan Prescott x Reader

@trueloveknifefight asked, Also can I request Nathan asking you out?

here u are! i love writing convos w nathan UGH i adore his character.

as always, replies and reblogs are greatly appreciated1 i check all tags and comments <3

wanna support me for just $3? here's my ko-fi!

The lights were bright, vivid. Almost blinding. They dance LED accents into the reflection of your drink- a dull plastic cup filled to the brim with one part whiskey, zero parts mixer. The taste could bring a tear to your eye but you would be damned to water down such fine alcohol, provided by none other than Nathan Prescott himself.

Music reverberated along the pool rooms walls, laughter and hollers distantly rising with the tempos. Your foot absently tapped to the beat- you were never one for dancing. Never one for parties, either, actually, favoring drinking in the solitude of a small friend group.

If not for Nathan you wouldn't be here at all. Some would say it's a privilege to slip past those heavy doors, entering the dully lit world of the Vortex Club. You mostly just felt like it was all for show. Somehow securing a place among Nathan's friend group, and a good friend at that, it was almost duty to show up. He insisted on it.

So, here you were. Leaning against a wall in a suffocatingly warm, cramped pool room surrounded by a sea of faces you hardly recognized.

That was, until you saw Nathan's face peer through the small break in shifting bodies. You knew him all too well.

Strikingly handsome, equally strikingly pompous. Funny, crude, an absent minded party goer just as much as he was a fireball with racing, incoherent thoughts. A drinker, a druggie. Takes the edge off, he says, but you think he does it to take away his thoughts completely. You felt like his entire life was all edges, never sacred ground.

The poor bastard.

He lures your attention in as he saunters over with squared shoulders, narrowly avoiding spilling his drink when a random student cuts it a little too close. Normally Nathan would make a bigger deal, give him what for, but this time he just shoots the poor kid a menacing glare and grumbles, 'fucking watch it'. He's walking with purpose and intent, you can see it on his face. You must have a target on your forehead as he darts straight over.

When he comes to your side, his own alcohol dripping down the sides of his cup onto his wiry fingers, you raise a brow.

"Something wrong?" You ask, as he takes a spot leaning against the hard wall right next to you.

"Just wondering why you're being so fucking lame over here," He shouts over the music, taking a sip of his drink, grimacing at the taste. "We're all having a good time over at the lounge and you're over here acting like all the other wallflower nobodies."

You roll your eyes with upturning lips. "Maybe I like being a wallflower. I like people watching. I see things no one else does."

"Yeah, okay, fucking weirdo."

"I mean it," You push off the wall and grin. "Look-" You point to a student obviously wasted, drink held high over head while he lets the music take him away. "That guy is clearly trashed- he's having the time of his life. He's gotta be seeing double."

Nathan whistles at his state, taking in the guys goofy smile, half lidded eyes. "I'll bet it's the triplets. I could breathe on him too hard and he'd fall over."

"You should go try it." You tease. He shakes his head and takes another drink.

"Nah, he'll get it himself. Guarantee we'll be dragging him out by his feet by the end of the night." He shrugs. "Or, at least someone will. I sure as fuck ain't staying that long."

You snicker. "What, got a hot date?" Nathan glares at you. "Oh don't tell me," you cup your hands to whisper, a secretive gesture, "homework?"

"Fuck no," He scoffs, and you can just barely see that he's a little more than tipsy now. His pale cheeks dusted with red, the tip of his nose ruby under the harsh lighting. It's also then that you realize he's a little more tense than usual, even despite the drinking. He's standing straight upright, his right hand gripping his cup like a crutch and his left now shoved hastily into his pocket.

He hasn't looked at you dead in the eyes yet.

"So what is it then?" You ask curiously. He shrugs and stares into his cup. You frown. "Bro, are you like, good right now? Do you wanna leave?"

For the first time since he'd wandered over, Nathan looks up at you. His eyes are unreadable, but his composure seems stressed. He shrugs again. Before you can even open your mouth to ask him about his state, he sighs and downs an entire mouthful of burning whiskey. It makes you cringe just watching him.

"Fuck it," He huffs. "Look I got some stupid ass dare to come over here and put the moves on you, okay." He sounds almost annoyed, like it's a hassle for him, or maybe embarrassing. You cross your arms. "I was dared to come over here and try to get you like, to fucking, you know, leave with me, but now that I'm over here I'm starting to think maybe that was a dumbass idea."

"Leave with you?" You say incredulously, a brow already lifting. "You were dared to come over here and try to sleep with me? By our friends?"

"No, no, fuck," Nathan seems agitated now, rushing. "Like a date sorta bullshit. Ask you out." He manages to get it out in almost the worst delivery possible, meanwhile you're just trying to pick out who would put him up to this. Hayden? Victoria?

A laugh forces its way out of you. "Aren't we a little too old for that game?"

Nathan shrugs. "That's what I said but they insisted. Fucking babies. At least make the dare a little more fun than just asking some bitch out. That's like elementary level shit."

Your eyes widen, you scoff. "Excuse me?"

Nathan sputters. "You're not some bitch, I didn't mean to-... Fucks sake, I'm clearly a little drunk right now okay, if you could cut me some fucking slack that'd be awesome."

"Hey man I didn't ask to be a victim of bullying," You tease, and he can't help but laugh. You soften. "Never expected it from you, though of all people. As ironic as that sounds."

"I'm not even bullying you, come on. Don't be a bitch. I even admitted it and everything."

You grin. "Yeah. Gotta say though, I'm a little disappointed."

"Oh what, you wanted to see my moves?" Nathan hums. "You wanted some Prescott action?"

"Shut the hell up." You shove his shoulder, an action that would be a mistake to so many others, but for you, it was welcomed. "I'm disappointed that it was just a dare. I'd probably have said yes if it wasn't. But, oh well."

Nathan doesn't answer for a long moment. First, he stares into his drink, processing. Almost like he hadn't heard that right, or like you were messing with him. It's rare to see Nathan Prescott stunned into a momentary silence. He's thinking, wondering what he should say next. Suspicious that you're just playing with him, hopeful that maybe you aren't.

And, you hadn't been. Truth be told if given the chance you would allow him to take you out for the evening. Show you fancy things, try out something a little more intimate than just laughter and poking fun at classmates together. You enjoyed his presence, looked forward to it at times.

A small part of you had hoped that he felt the same, maybe. Somehow. While grateful that he respected you enough to cut the crap before it even began, you couldn't help but feel a little... Disheartened at the prank. You'd saved your pride by denying him beforehand, but, if it had been genuine...

"So if it wasn't a dare," He began, quietly, barely audible over the booming music overhead. Eyes barely visible in the sea of vibrant lights crashing like waves. "You'd have said yes."

You shrug, trying to play it casual to save your own feelings, just in case. "Probably. I mean, we're already friends. We have fun so it couldn't have been that bad." He nods along to almost every word.

"Well what if we did it anyways." He blurts.

"Did what?"

"Go out tonight. Like, you know ditch this lame ass party and have some real fun."

"You love this lame ass party, and plus," You shake your head in feigned annoyance. "I'm not sleeping with you, Nathan."

He glares at you. "Fucking duh. I'm just saying we can go and hang out somewhere else. This party happens all the fucking time so it's not like we're missing anything."

"But, wouldn't that make me the butt of our friends joke?"

He shrugs. "Fuck em. It was a dumb dare anyways."

"Now it seems like you're trying extra hard to convince me to say yes." You state, and he's frazzled, running lines through his brain to try and save the absolute failure of asking you out. You decide to spare him, take a little leap of faith for yourself. "But, alright. I'm in."

Nathan gapes at you. "You're in?"

"Yeah, why not. I'm not busy right now and if you're not either than," You smile. "Why not. You better wow me though, Prescott. I'm talking a night to remember. Fireworks, dinner by candle light, a serenade. The whole package."

Nathan's eyes light up, but he tries to hide it, rolls those beautiful blues. "Well considering I've had like no fucking time to prepare how about we instead go to the roof and chill out."

You toss the idea around in your head for show. You already knew the answer the moment he asked if you were being serious.

"I mean I guess that would work," You say. "I was looking for fireworks but I suppose that will suffice. Feel free to go tell our buddies their joke may have backfired on them."

Nathan shakes his head. "Nah, don't even bother. They're all drunk and probably don't even remember daring me in the first place."

"Alright then," You push yourself off the wall, feeling your cheeks warm. A flutter takes wing in the base of your chest, your heart picking up just a little faster. You can't stop the smile that graces you as you say, "Lead the way, Prescott."

Nathan does lead the way. He takes your hand into his own, your fingers tracing over his boney knuckles as he drags you through the sea of bodies, out to the school hall and up winding stairs.

You giggle like a child when he struggles to find the correct key on the janitors ring he'd snatched weeks ago just in case, tease him when he almost spills his drink all over himself. Nathan's hands are almost shaking, but you chalk it up to the alcohol. You chalk everything up to the alcohol- his trembling fingers, his red face, a shy, albeit goofy smile resting upon his lovely, angular face.

The night was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the smoldering heat of the Vortex Party.

He looks amazing out under the stars, and underneath the scope of the vast, black sky dotted with trillions of perfect, twinkling lights, you feel at peace.

Looking at him, you feel like this may be the start of something you'd denied yourself the chance of ever even imagining.

Out there, alone but together, hearing the echoes of music mixed with the livelihood of crickets in the darkness...

it truly was a night to remember.

-----------

Days later, you sit atop your desk, feet tapping rhythmically on your chair, typing away at your phone.

"Love the top," A familiar voice pipes, and you glace up to find Victoria standing before you, books pressed to her chest. She takes in your shirt, a nicely fitted long sleeve with a rather low cut v-neck. "Why haven't I see that one before?"

You shrug and set your phone down. "Never got around to wearing it I guess. Not a big fan of V-necks."

"It fits you," She sets her books down at the table beside you and brushes a hand through her hair, making sure every strand is in line. "I'll have to get one myself."

"You know what, you can have it after today," You say, and she perks up in disbelief. "As a thank you for what happened at the party."

That disbelief soon turned to confusion. "...Meaning?"

"Y'know, making Nathan ask me out. He made a whole huge deal about it- said you guys were drinking and playing Truth or Dare of all things. Gotta say, I was a little surprised."

Victoria's brows knit. "We hardly drank at that party, and I wouldn't be caught dead playing Truth or Dare. That game is for kids."

It almost knocks the wind out of you.

They hadn't even been playing in the first place.

As the teacher walks into the room, the first period bell blaring annoyingly over the speakers, you climb off your desk and prepare for the day, hardly able to contain yourself. It hadn't been a dare, after all.

And, you and Nathan's official second date was merely a day away.

#nathan prescott #life is strange #imagine #lis

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 17

WC: 1131

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: angst, language, discussions of student/professor relationships, age difference

A/N: so I'm actually going out of town for a week and I'm not sure I'll be able to write much if at all so I figured I'll be nice and not leave yall hanging too much

🧠

A sea of petrified students part as you come raging down the academic building’s hallway. You waste no time in throwing open the heavy wooden door to his office. It hasn’t even had time to slam shut before you begin your tirade.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you seeth.

Laszlo sighs, annoyed at having his work interrupted for the second time in the last hour. The headache from his encounter with Sara made his temples throb uncomfortably. He once again removes his glasses, tossing them indelicately onto the desk, before running a hand through his neatly combed hair. “What, is it not allowed that I do my work in peace?” He does nothing to hide his exasperation as he lifts his head to face you. The dark bags under your eyes remind him of his own.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are, some high and mighty hot-shot professor, but I do not need your pity money,” you spit at him. “It’s disgusting and patronizing and quite frankly fucked up. It’s bad enough that you fucking fire me over text for no goddamn reason, but then you go rub it in my face just how much I needed this job and the money. I’m not some pathetic charity case, Laszlo. I can figure out my own shit and I don’t need your help to do it!”

Midway through your rant he stood up from his desk. Now Laszlo is more confused than angry at your outburst. Charity case? “I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re on about.”

You scoff. “Oh, don’t play dumb, it’s beneath you. You were supposed to fix the system to say that you removed me from being your TA. But no, you went and kept me on payroll on purpose so that, what, I didn’t go starving on the streets without you? You think that I’m so incapable of taking care of myself that only you, the great Dr. Laszlo Kreizler could help, and just so you could feel better about yourself?” The sarcasm drips heavily in your tone.

With the raising of your voice so did your frustration. Laszlo could feel it pushing off you in waves, stoking the fire within his own emotions. He lets out a dark chuckle at the preposterousness of your accusation. “If you think for even a moment that I have done anything out of pity for you then you truly must be beyond yourself. I have not done anything outside of what is required for my position as your supervisor and professor at this university. If you have a problem with that, you may take it to the Dean," he sneers. "As for your accusation of treating you like a charity case - that was never my intention nor purpose. I became preoccupied and did not find the time to change your status in the system.” He looks you up and down from where he stands, his eyes cold. “You have much to learn if you are going to expect people to take you seriously as an academic.”

Jabbing a finger towards him, you yell “don’t you talk down to me like I’m a child! God, you are infuriating!” You throw up your hands and begin to pace the office. Taking a breath, you try to bring some logic into your fuming thoughts. “Okay fine, let’s say I do believe that you forgot to fix it. That still doesn’t explain why you fired me out of the blue. Was I not doing my job correctly?”

“You did what was asked of you.” He does his best to sound neutral in his response.

“That doesn’t- ugh- that doesn’t answer the damn question, Laszlo! For once, why can’t you act like a human being and not like some omnipotent god that just takes pleasure in pointing out everyone else's flaws?” The fire behind your eyes blazes hotter than the surface of the sun.

Circling the desk he comes to stop a few feet from you. His shoulders are rigid as he glares down at you. “Perhaps I will the day you yourself get a hold on your own actions. You are intelligent beyond your own comprehension, yet you present yourself as a naïve child might. You speak as though your ideals are the only ones that could possibly be entertained. You are loud and confrontational and irritating-”

You cut him off; “I could say the same thing about you!” You pause a short beat. At this point you decide to rip the proverbial band aid off - “Is it because we almost kissed? Did I really fuck it up that bad or are you just unable to grow up and be a big boy with your feelings? Because you’ve been giving me all these signs and if they aren’t really there then fuck, Laszlo, you need to figure out how to actually talk to someone without making them think you have feelings. Or is it because you’re a professor and I’m your aide? Am I some stupid little girl that caught feelings for her teacher? Does the idea offend you that much that you had to get rid of me-”

“I CAN’T!” he yells mere inches from you. His shout stops you in your tracks, your eyes darting between his own pitch black pupils. Laszlo's face is flushed, his temples throb.

He sees red as he tries to defend himself from your onslaught. “I cannot be around you!” He growls, pacing away from you towards the back wall.

You don’t let him get away so easily, following him with a single measured step. “Laszlo… why not?” You are enraged and heartbroken, but you need answers no matter how much they might rip your soul to shreds.

He runs his fingers through his already mussed hair, pulling at the strands. “Because I feel my control slipping when you are around. Everyday you sit here and all I want is to be near you, to feel you against me, to know every thought that crosses that beautiful mind. I become more and more alienated from my own when I am with you. I’m not sure I have much sanity left. There are certain things a man cannot control...” You hear his swallow. “I’m afraid of what I might do if you stay…”

When you do not respond he glances over his shoulder. You stand where he had left you, your jaw clenched, eyebrows scrunched together. He continues to study you from across the room. Neither of you say anything.

Finally, you open your mouth to whisper out “I’m afraid of what might happen if I don’t.”

The words are barely past your mouth when he launches himself towards you, his left hand tilting your jaw forward to crush his lips against yours.

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams @thatoneartgalsstuff

#the interpretation of dreams #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo x reader #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #the alienist angel of darkness #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler daniel bruhl #scuttle-buttle

[geodax]

“No one is coming to help you.” with Obi-wan and, well, any one of his numerous “friends”

requests are open

----

WARNINGS- excessive drinking, depression, suicidal thoughts (obi-wan is really not in a good place right now and is not making good choices)

----

The lower levels of Coruscant are one of the few places in the galaxy where people refuse to look each other in the eye. They can’t risk recognizing someone that doesn’t want to be recognized. Too many people have gone missing when they recognized someone they shouldn’t have, so they all keep their heads down and their lights dim and speak in hushed whispers when they must speak at all. It all makes for an easy crowd to blend into. With his hood up, Obi-Wan becomes just another anonymous being in a sea of those that can’t afford to see.

This bar is the only place Obi-Wan can drink without being harassed. No senators will take his words and twist them around. No press droids will chase after him asking pointed questions about his actions in the past months. No civilians will yank his hood off to spit in his face and voice their hatred of a war they say he should have ended. And no one will offer any more awkward congratulations for not being dead at all.

He can finally be alone.

He waves the bartender over for another drink and tosses another credit chip on the counter. It’s not enough for good whiskey, but he has already blown through most of his credits and still isn’t drunk enough to feel better.

Obi-Wan wrinkles his nose at the new drink the bartender puts in front of him. He has drunk much viler things before, but he isn’t here celebrating a victory with his men or letting loose with friends. He can’t ignore the heavy taste on his tongue and the sickening burn as he swallows.

He sighs, then tugs out more credits. It’s not like he has anything else to spend them on. There isn’t much point in replenishing his dwindling tea stash. Caf is always available and has more caffeine in it anyway. There’s no reason for groceries now that Anakin and Ahsoka don’t show up when he cooks what was once a weekly meal for the three of them to enjoy. There isn’t even reason to save up to treat the troops to lunch. They understand why he did what he did, but they’re still hurt and have kept a professional distance from him.

Cody is the only one that had tried to bridge the gap and put logic before emotions, but he had failed. Some part of their relationship is broken. And Obi-Wan doesn’t know how to put it back together except to give Cody space to heal.

Even the Jedi have remained distant. They’re glad he’s not really dead, but they’ve mourned him and cried for him. They’d broken the news to padawans and younglings that had looked up to him and seen someone who would survive this war and make all the sacrifice worth it. They love him still, but he has caused too much pain for them to welcome him back with ease.

He understands. They need time and he will give it to them. He’ll sit alone in the meal halls to avoid making anyone uncomfortable. He’ll work out with droids in the private sparring rooms. He’ll avoid the common meditation rooms and find a nook for himself, away from the soft, humming warmth of other Jedi, until they’re ready for him to return.

Obi-Wan swallows the next drink in a single gulp, then orders a half dozen more with a slight nudge in the Force to stop the bartender from cutting him off and calling him a cab. His damned Force-enhanced metabolism is burning through the alcohol too quickly. He just wants to drink and forget. That can’t be too much to ask.

----

He wakes with vomit in his mouth and no idea where he is. That should probably concern him, but his head aches too much for him to care. It’s most likely some filthy alley no one can remember the name of where drunks and dead bodies spend their nights.

Obi-Wan presses his head to his hands and whines as his skull threatens to split open. He should have just gone home and meditated. At least then he’d wouldn’t wake with vomit in his nose.

He reaches for the Force to soothe the ache, but it slips through his fingers. He tries again. And again. And again. Each time it skitters away, tantalizingly out of reach.

He scowls and forces his eyes open, despite the agony even the dim light causes. He freezes. This isn’t some alley or hotel he found his way to before passing out. It is not a service station either, though he doubts anyone would have bothered to pick him up off the street.

Obi-Wan tries to get to his feet but stumbles when he finds cuffs around his ankles. He stares at them. Then stares a few moments longer as his brain struggles to catch up. There are cuffs around his wrists too and, like the ones around his ankles, they aren’t attached to anything but each other. There is something around his neck, he can feel the weight of it on his collarbones now that he’s more awake. A collar, he realizes.

His already dry mouth becomes impossibly drier. His fingers scramble over the collar, searching for a lock, for any weakness he could exploit, but finds only the lump of metal where the lock has been welded shut.

His heart pounds as he examines the cuffs and the rest of the room and finds no escape, no air vents, no panels, no way out but a rayshield set into the far wall with a single figure standing behind it:

Maul.

“Pathetic, aren’t you?” Maul sneers when Obi-Wan meets his eyes. He uncrosses his arms and waves the rayshield open. The Sith nearly glides across the floor, a grace to his movements that had been sorely lacking when they met on Raydonia. Obi-Wan can’t help but shrink back. He can’t deal with this now. He’s too tired to put on a brave face and pretend he is unaffected by Maul’s presence. Maul will still torture and hopefully kill him, no matter what Obi-Wan does. “I wonder what your master would think of you now.”

The words don’t cut any deeper than the wounds he already carries. Qui-Gon wouldn’t have forgiven him any easier than Anakin. He would have needed the same space to work through his feelings and perhaps one day reestablish a relationship, but not so soon. He wouldn’t have cared if, in the meantime, Obi-Wan got drunk now and then, so long as his drunken mind didn’t bring him to Qui-Gon’s quarters.

Maul’s fingers dig into his chin, commanding that Obi-Wan look up at him, but he’s too dizzy and tired to make his eyes focus. Maul should get on with the pain. At least that would feel better than the empty hole in chest.

“I have you all to myself now, Obi-Wan,” Maul purrs. “No one is coming to save you.”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes and swallows around the growing lump in his throat. Maul is right. No one is coming for him.

No one will even notice he’s gone.

#Obi-Wan Kenobi #Darth Maul #star wars #my writing #depression tw #alcohol tw #drinking tw #suicidal thoughts tw #this got way sadder than i thought it would be #so enjoy? i guess

[cherryblossomtease]

Chapter 15

18+ only

warnings and summary - Masterlist

Because sometimes all you need is a simple reminder of who started this mess in the first damn place 💜

Warnings : as always 18+ only please- dom Zemo, sub Bucky, sub reader, punishment, m/m, m/m/f, light bondage

Authors Notes: Really didn't think I would be posting this weekend but it's a holiday in the states so why not! Still working on the rest by you know, neglecting everything that matters to create this fictional world. Anyhow, I can honestly say this is by far the most graphic story I've written so I'm a little nervous but it's already done, can't change it now, and I honestly don't want to! That said I hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing!

~

Nothing lasts forever, especially when it’s this good. And this fabricated reality is about as good as it gets. Still, you know this boat will dock soon and goodbyes will be said. There’s really no way around it, try as you might to come up with a plan to talk Bucky into staying. Even now as you fight to stay asleep, your brain is working hard to create a solution while you refuse to give into your worries so early in the day.

You turn onto your stomach ignoring the dark thoughts, choosing instead to enjoy the feel of a strong arm across your back and a leg, hairy and heavy over both of yours.

Settling again with a content sigh, sleep starts to pull you back under. Thank the stars. You really aren’t in the mood— even if your dreams apparently are.

And what had you been dreaming about anyway?

A little house on a wide cliff overlooking water, and something else? The harder you try to remember the more you feel yourself slipping back into that dream space.

There was a small animal. What was it? A rabbit? Its fluffy body too close to the edge of the cliff. But in the dream you’d stayed standing in the doorway of the little house too indifferent to go and save it….

You feel bodies moving lazily, a stream of breath along your back that tickles; arms and legs and the men they belong to not fully awake and starting to stir like you, even as you quickly slip back into sleep until you’re standing in the doorway of that house again with the warm winds on your face and a view of the French sea below. The drop is dangerous. Deadly even.

Why haven’t you started talking Bucky into staying yet? Because you don’t like thinking about it too much. That's why. You start walking towards the edge of the cliff and you’re fully aware of your worlds crossing over —real thoughts present in your dream.

It’s probably bad luck to resent good deeds, after all that’s what he’s leaving you for. He wants to go off and live the life of the hero he never got to be. That and to keep Zemo’s location safe; but that’s besides the point. Hmm… Look at me, selfish even in my dreams. You smile when you shouldn’t.

Staring over the edge of the cliff it’s suddenly clear how unstable the ground is here and you gasp as it crumbles beneath your feet without warning.

Your eyes open with a start.

Well, that was a bit on the nose. Your subconscious does like to lay it on a thick sometimes, especially when you continue to ignore the things bothering you for too long and you've been setting these feelings aside since the text came through.

But just as quickly as you’re left to shake the shadow of the eerie dream, your frown fades replaced by a slow smile.

There is a very familiar poking at your ass that can sometimes be annoying-- this morning it’s welcome. You reach back and feel for the body that the greeting belongs too, comforted by the warmth and solid muscle of Bucky’s thigh under his tight boxers.

Mmmmm, the source of my distress and my desire, you think and grin into the pillows with a soft moan when his hand, hot and strong takes hold of your hip, massaging as he presses his erection into you.

You’ll talk to him about your dreams later.

Feeling a draft where there should be warmth, you open an eye to find breaks of sunlight in the space between Helmut’s arm and torso. When you turn your head you’re met with the sight of his bare chest, broad and covered in the softest dark hair. His necklace hangs off center, and you, as always, are helpless to it.

Your hand leaves Bucky’s thigh and your fingers slide over the delicate links in the chain and down into the soft chest hair as you turn your head to find he and Bucky locked in one hell of a kiss for so early in the day. It must have been their movement or the sound of their lips that woke you and pulled you from the doom of your fatal fall.

Dreams are so strange…

Your heart flutters when Helmut lays his hand over yours pressing it tight to his chest. “Good morning love birds.” You snicker and watch Bucky pull away from Zemo looking a little embarrassed. He does pause to kiss your cheek however before getting out of bed with a long stretch.

“So where the hell are we anyway?” He asks going to the balcony door, looking out at the passing waves. “Feels like nowhere.”

Zemo is looking down at you, stroking your profile, kissing your nose. “We should be well within the middle of it actually.” He answers, eyes still fixed on you.

“Perfect” You say softly letting him pull you so close that he blocks out the light as your lips meet.

“Breakfast is ready sir,” Oeznik calls from outside the bedroom door.

Zemo grumbles at the interruption but you’re starving. “What? I’m not going anywhere” You huff turning away, trying to escape. “You just said so yourself. I've got no place to go.”

“All by design” He smiles and lets you get up, giving your ass a smack as you go. Bucky is watching from the doorway and laughs at your yelp-hop-rub combination.

Swearing under your breath you go over to the closet, grab your silk robe and pull it on over your shorts and tank top, yawning as you drag your feet over to Bucky. You pat his stomach, kissing him quickly. “Hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Lets go up.” You say tugging at him as Zemo gets up and puts on his own robe across the room. It’s not the thick one you liked from before the raft, but silk like yours— Tom Ford if memory serves— god his influence is strong. How the hell do you remember this stuff?

You watch him scratch at the back of his messy nest of hair like he always does in the mornings, somehow looking both sexy and adorable, alternating between the two with the ease of flicking a light switch. You can only smile at the enigma that is Helmut Zemo and pull Bucky away from the doors.

The three of you leave the room shuffling along, making your way down the hall to the den. Zemo trails you and Bucky accepting a small espresso from Oeznik as he watches the way you and your Sergeant interact. Neither you nor Bucky are necessarily morning people and though it’s nearly ten, you’re both somewhat irritable now that you’re actually moving around and slightly hungover from yesterdays sangrias as you make your way up to the top deck where breakfast will be served.

The sun is so bright you huff about not being able to find your sunglasses and Bucky accuses you of being a diva. The only appropriate reaction is to give him a shove.

Zemo snorts a laugh at your near sibling like banter which you’d established after so many months together, but once you find your glasses on the bar counter and get a fresh cup of coffee and a bloody Mary chaser in your body you’re feeling like a new woman ready to conquer the day… a day spent doing nothing really.

It’s all so casually decadent that it’s nearly sinful. Whats the one? The sin that doesn’t sound as good as lust but feels better after all that fornicating you’ve been doing— Sloth? Yes, you think reaching for what’s left of your blood Mary from the lounge chair, the ultimate of all the sins. Thou shalt not be a lazy ass sloth all day on your yacht.

Cheers.

You read on the deck for a while, play a few rounds of shuffle board with Bucky by the pool and attempt to best Zemo at chess in the den.

Lunch is wonderful, and you think you will need to meet this mystery chef at some point before the trip is over followed by a nap on the bedroom balcony.

When you wake up in the very late afternoon you venture down the hall with your book and unexpectedly find the men in your life moaning on the floor of the den in a tangle of beautifully tanned arms and legs. So you very quietly slip past, feeling a flush rise up your neck to your cheeks highlighting your wide but tight lipped smile.

You stay above decks giving them privacy feeling only the slightest twinge of jealousy. Not because you think you’ve been excluded but because you could use another session like last night.

A shiver runs deep in your belly thinking of the way Helmut brought you to climax, but you’re still more than happy to give them time alone. After all, you’ve had the Baron to yourself for far longer than Bucky.

You sink down onto the upper deck sofa, the image of them entwined, the sounds of their heavy breathing and Bucky’s near innocent moans enough to make you consider touching yourself but you wait, letting the urge build, one of them if not both will take care of you later.

So when Bucky comes up and finds you with a funny look on his face you’re completely confused. “Whats wrong?” You ask putting your book down.

He’s poured a drink and sits down beside you on the couch.

“I don’t know if I can do it.” He says shaking his head tossing back the bourbon.

“Do what?” You have an idea but you thought for sure he’d be eager to try, at least it looked like they were well on their way to his first time.

“Letting him control me, I’ve never had someone tell me no. Not like this.”

“Oh” You smile. It’s the no sex. The lack of it is a cruel form of control but the end results are glorious, if he could just be patient enough. “He won’t let you come?” You ask a little more patronizing than you’d intended.

“No!” Bucky whines taking his cue from you and you stifle your laughter. He’s so cute, even in the throws of his sexual agony. “And it’s making me crazy. I mean I’m already crazy but this is different.” He looks around and leans closer to you. “If you were to so much as look at my cock right now, I’d be done.” He says under his breath.

You let go and laugh rolling your eyes. Dramatics seem to come as naturally as submission to him. “That’s against the rules.” You warn eyeing him sidelong and attempting to go back to your book.

“I can’t take it. Fuck the rules.” He says again pulling the paperback from your hand.

You wave your finger in his face. “James. You’re not allowed.” You say playfully.

“Please.” He begs running his finger down your cheek, brushing your neck and gliding along your clavicle where he knows you’re sensitive.

“I can’t!” You lean away a little surprised by his attempt.

“He won’t know!”

You shake your head “I know but…” You try not to smile.

“I can’t take it.” He insists leaning in to kiss you. “I promise; it won’t take long.”

You give in and laugh sensing his desperation as you kiss. He does feel tense. The muscles of his arm and shoulder are wound tight as a chord. You smile against his lips letting him ease you down onto the couch, your book dropping to the floor as he moans, sliding his hand down your thigh, pushing your knee up and his own hips forward letting you feel what you’re fairly certain is the most rock solid hard on you’ve ever had pressed to your body. You whisper his name as his lips find their way to your neck and his hand slides between you to free himself from those amazing shorts.

“Shame, I had every intention of making your patience worth the effort. But you do love to prolong your torment, don’t you soldat.”

You gasp and Bucky hangs his head as Zemo comes sauntering over. Your laughter is a mix of nerves and feeling like you’ve been caught sneaking around with a boy like a damn teenager. It’s been years since you’ve felt a rush like this. Leave it to the Baron to stir that old excitement again.

“Don’t move” Zemo orders, pointing a finger in your face. You freeze, legs open where Bucky was, your arms tight at your sides. “Sit” He growls at Bucky who obeys begrudgingly as he slides back onto the couch.

Very quickly Zemo shoves your legs closed and grabs you by the arm pulling you up to standing. You lean away as he shakes his head keeping you close, his hold so tight you wince “I thought you knew better by now” He scolds you sounding disappointed.

“I told him not too?” You try looking as innocent as possible. You truly had no intentions of fucking him, but maybe a quick hand job?

There is a flicker of excitement in Zemo’s eyes. It's been so long since you’ve given him a reason to really go for it and you hold in your smile because you’re meant to be sad and hang your head. “I’m sorry Baron.”

He ignores your attempts to apologize and pulls you over so that you’re standing in front of Bucky. He looks you both over for a moment thinking and then smiles. You don’t know if you love or hate to see him looking so pleased. Nothing “good” ever comes of that smile.

“Look James.” He says, waiting until Bucky raises his head. “I want you to see what listening to your eager cock and not my rules get gets you— and her.” He tells Bucky before giving you his undivided attention.

Zemo turns your back to Bucky and you feel his hand between your shoulder blades pushing just a little. You bend at the waist, not all the way, just enough to make sure Bucky knows where his attention should be.

This flouncy little designer sun dress you’ve changed into after your nap only helps direct his gaze as Zemo drags the fabric up slowly so that the reveal of your ass is yet another way to torment him all on its own and you give yourself over to the Baron and wonder how bad this will be.

“Pull them down.” He tells you, his hand smoothing over your simple lace panties. His voice is not so angry as it was when he found the two of you, but every bit as firm, and you glance up at him as you hook your thumbs into the waist band. He nods and you quickly obey, pulling your underwear over the curve of your hips and ass and swear you hear Bucky groan when you bend to pull them from your ankles letting him see the diamond shape of your pussy from behind for just a second, your smile hidden from view.

When you stand again, Zemo offers his forearm. You rest your stomach against him, your hand gripping his shirt, the other you will have to try very hard not to cover your backside with because you know that the breeze will be the last nice thing that you feel.

He tosses your dress back up holding you, adjusting the way he stands just a little so that you are safe but immobile.

“Count them off; to five.” He says leaning just a bit closer. The tone in his voice is confident. Zemo knows that you’re well aware of what this means.

“Yes Baron.” You say exhaling, trying to prepare, but five? Fuck. He does not intend on holding back. If he was being playful he would give you ten or more, but five? He knows you won’t be able to take more that that.

You dig your fingers into his forearm and hold your breath.

The first strike makes you cry out.

The way Zemo can raise his hand and bring it down on your ass is unrivaled. He doesn’t mess around. There is no teasing, no playing, no cute little taps to warm you up. Just instant punishment.

“One.”

Your voice shakes and the rousing heat of adrenaline spreads through your arms and legs.

Again he lifts his hand and brings it down quickly with a stinging force that sends shock waves through your body. Your cry is weaker this time, trailing longer.

“Two.”

You pull his shirt tighter into your fist, your cheeks are on fire already when you feel the air stir as his hand rises again. You wonder if Bucky is watching, you wonder if he see’s how your thighs flex and your flesh shakes when the Baron strikes you.

You close your eyes and draw in your bottom lip trying not to moan, but you arch your back and your hips begin to circle ever so slightly with the anticipation of the next smack. You’re practically whimpering as you offer up your backside for more.

Zemo can feel the light vibration of pleasure sounding in your chest and his laughter is a low, very amused rumble as he raises his hand just a little higher this time.

The next smack lands and you toss your head back with a gasp. You would have gone to your knees if he wasn’t strong enough to hold you up. “Three” You whisper but you don’t move. The air brushes your pussy, wet in spite of your reddening skin.

“Don’t look away.” Zemo says.

There is the answer to your previous question. Bucky likes it, but it’s not always easy for him to watch.

“James!” Zemo snaps and waits. Bucky must be looking again because you feel the Baron move.

The fourth strike comes and you steady yourself knowing you can take it, wanting it, loving it as much as your feel your legs shaking. “Four”

You’re breathing hard, as you anticipate the final blow, desperate for it to be over but sorry for it to end. You rest against him for just a second feeling both safe in his hold and powerless to his dominance.

When the last of your punishment lands you hang your head, rounding your spine unable to offer yourself anymore. You can not pretend and this is why he’s given you so few.

Letting your hips drop as your body shudders and a single tear falls, you whisper, “Five” And only Helmut hears you say it.

Very gently he pulls your dress down, the soft cotton is cool over your burning skin and he turns you around to face him.

He brushes the tear from your cheek, holding you in such a way that you can go limp in his arms. “It wasn’t that bad, you’re just out of practice.” He says smiling at you knowing it wasn’t kind either.

You’d love for him to know just once. Maybe let Bucky give him a slap across the ass to make it fair. But when you look at him the thought is all wrong if not hilarious and you just shrug a little and hang your head again, resting on his chest.

“No breaking rules.” He scolds affectionately, “Even if you’re only trying to help. Understood?”

“Yes Baron.” Your voice is very small.

He gives a nod, kisses your forehead and looks over his shoulder at James. “So, is this what you wanted?”

“No.”

“No… no I don’t think it is.” He agrees. “But I understand. She’s damn near impossible to resist still you must learn to control yourself. Apparently I’ve not made that clear. Perhaps a more direct approach.”

You both look at him wide eyed. What’s more direct than this you think not even close to recovered from your spanking.

“Both of you, go down to our bedroom.” He says as though nothing has ever been more obvious “Take off your clothes. Wait for me on the bed.”

You look at Bucky. He looks at you.

“You fucked up,” You mouth to him.

Bucky just gets up and pushes past you both.

*

“I suppose you could say I’ve had to get creative with my plans for you. I know that pain is something you can’t respond to in ways that she can.” Zemo says, smiling as he glances down at Bucky and then over his shoulder at you on your knees behind him. “Have you finished?”

You look up from what you’re doing, hoping it’s right. “Yes, I think so?”

He comes around to look at the rope binding Bucky’s wrists. It’s just for show to heighten the experience. Of course Bucky could break free if he wanted to— his strength is no match for a few rough fibers— but this is a training of the mind as well as the body. “You see, pleasure can be just as awful.” Zemo says, his voice making you shiver as he checks your work, tugging and tightening the rope a little more.

Leaning in close, he strokes Bucky’s jaw, his finger reaching to trace the spine of his ear and you smile when the hairs on Bucky’s right arm raise and Zemo loses the air of control for a second simply becoming the man who cares for the other deeply. “The irony of tying you to a chair to satisfy you is not lost on me, based on what I know of your past. But if you can endure it, I promise it will be nothing like the pain you’ve known. I could never hurt you in that way. Still, if at any time this is too much, if it triggers memories that change it from what it’s meant to be, please— James— say the word, your word and it stops.”

Bucky nods. “I will” He says softly.

“Nothing now?” Zemo asks genuinely wanting to know. Bucky shakes his head. “No, nothing.”

Zemo gives a confident nod and kisses the back of Bucky’s head patting his cheek a little harder than he needs too. “I only want to make you feel good— eventually.” He teases and Bucky rolls his eyes with a small laugh.

Pleased, Zemo pushes up and goes to sit in the soft chair across the room, notably more comfortable than the one Bucky has been placed in. Although the more obvious differences being, Zemo is not bound, Zemo is not naked, and Zemo has not been so gently stroked and toyed with that he’s been left with a perfectly vulnerable erection like Bucky has.

You’d had a hard time focusing on the ropes as the Baron made it happen. The way he’d taken Bucky in hand, winding down the length of his sex was in a word, mesmerizing. And when Bucky made that sound, that soft, pleading sound and Zemo stopped — his brow raised with such smug confidence— you wondered who would break first, you or Bucky. He’d quickly brought his hand up with one last tease, his fingers swirling around the curving head of Bucky’s member only to let go as though he’d lost interest.

Bucky’s groan was deep. He was beyond frustrated, but instead of breaking out of his restrains and fucking one of the two of you, he sat there just waiting to be punished for breaking rules in the first place.

He watches as you come and kneel before him, naked yourself as you’ve been told to be. He actually looks slightly scared but mostly curious. His erection is as always flawlessly pretty, arching up and back, smooth while perfectly veined and so inciting.

You only know what it is you’re meant to do to him because you’ve had it done to you before. You figure it’s very similar, only the mechanics are different because his is a man. If Zemo doesn’t approve, he’ll tell you.

The Baron in charge picks up his drink, the ice rattling as he takes a sip and lets the scene settle in his sights for a moment. He likes to see the two of you together, his two helpless things— his to play with and his to love.

“Begin.”

Bucky inhales, but you smile at him to show that it won’t hurt— it’ll just drive him mad.

First you take the little bottle of body oil from the floor and put some in your hands rubbing them together.

He raises his brow watching you and starts to relax thinking he might understand now. You take him in hand and start to stroke, you are after all very good at this. Over and over again, up and down his long, thick shaft, curving your hand over the head of his cock until he moans and rolls his eyes shut. When he opens them he does seem a bit confused by this sudden attention and he flashes a smile because it feels so good. If this is all that’s been planned, he could get used to this sort of punishment.

The room is quiet, there’s nothing but the soft hum of the ship, his breathing and the wonderfully obscene sound of the oil you’re using against his skin as you work faster…

It’s not long before you feel him stiffen and his breath grows quicker, his thighs flex, his hips raise an inch and he starts to moan softly, a staccato sound of pleasure that makes even your heart beat faster. He’s been waiting and suffering through so much you can feel the joy of release seeping into every inch of his body.

“You feel it happening?” Zemo asks softly. “The start, the pressure mounting? You see, she is very good. And she will get you there James, every time— right to the edge”

You yank your hand away and he jerks forward mouth open cock twitching with the start of an orgasm he will not have.

“To the edge” Zemo chuckles. “A cruel punishment for a greedy man who must learn to wait.”

Bucky quickly lifts his head, the realization flashing in his eyes as his chest rises and falls. He looks down at you.

You smile and reach for him again.

*

“Please” He begs breathless.

“Not yet” Zemo says leaning forward a bit in his seat, the drink in his hand all but forgotten. You notice the ice has long since melted as you wait for permission, watching over your shoulder.

He gives you a nod and you turn back to Bucky.

Wrapping your hand around him again, you feel him so solid he’s like stone. His thighs are flexed, his hips raise up in the chair as you begin to jerk your hand up and down and the light reflecting off the oil makes you both shine like gold.

He moans and you watch the muscles of his abs flex as he feels the orgasm coming on, helpless to it and your skilled hand.

“I’m going to come.” He groans sounding sorry for and drops his hips.

“No, you won’t. I did not say that you can” Zemo says like the villain behind you.

“I can’t it hold back” Bucky pants, his voice is thin he sounds like he very well might lose control and you feel him pulse in your palm. You twist your hand around sliding it down to the base thinking it might help hold him off if your focus is less near the collection of nerve endings.

Zemo stands and comes to you, tapping your shoulder. You let him go with a quick up and down and Bucky’s disappointment is the saddest thing you’ve ever heard.

When Zemo looks down at the wonderfully pitiful sight, Bucky shuts his eyes. “Yellow.” He whispers. “Please, yellow.”

“All right.” Zemo says kindly and gives his head a rub. “Rest”

“Thank you.” Bucky manages.

You stand not caring what Zemo says and kiss Bucky’s cheek.

“You okay?” You ask, your hand on his shoulder, lifting his chin to look at his face.

“Please… don’t, don’t touch me for a minute?” He asks and you give an embarrassed laugh understanding his request. You’re not exactly innocent in his torment.

“Of course I’m sorry I…” Your sentence is cut off.

Zemo has you by the back of your arms and pulls you tight against him. “You, not her.”

Bucky sighs dropping his head.

“I’m still confused. Is, this what you wanted?” He asks feigning ignorance though with you naked its clear what Zemo means.

Bucky won’t look.

“Answer me.”

“No, I mean— yes Baron.” He concedes.

You feel Zemo’s laugh along your neck. “You wouldn’t have been fast enough to finish before I found you. Well, maybe you, but not her. Tell me, how quickly can you make her come?”

“What?”

“How quickly?”

You shut your eyes as soon as you realize where this is going.

“I don’t know. I mean she always got there.” Bucky says sounding slightly self conscious.

Zemo smiles. “Two minutes. I can finish her off in just two.”

“Ha!” Bucky doesn’t believe him, who would.

Oh Bucky…

“Tell him it’s true.” Zemo leans towards you.

You nod glancing at them both. “He does this… thing.” You tell Bucky. “He works my spot and my clit at the same time and I come. Fast.” You say simply and totally helpless to it.

“It’s not always the most fun, rarely my first choice; but great when we’re in a hurry.” He shrugs and takes a knee before you even realize that he has. “Open your legs.” He says looking up at you.

Your eyes go wide, surprised to see him down and waiting with Bucky watching. Still, you part your thighs and wisely lay your hands on his shoulders knowing you won’t be able to stay upright without the support.

“This? Right James? This warm, tight, safe place? This is what you wanted?” Zemo asks, teasing Bucky with the way he slides his fingers between your velvet soft folds. You feel him turn his hand and his finger circles your entrance. He sighs and takes hold of your hip to keep you in place.

Two fingers slip inside and you hiss against the stretch, biting your lip as your head lolls to the side. You try to hold in the loudest of your noise but it’s hopeless.

The Baron starts to do his thing and you wonder if you might be able to deny him the pleasure of making you come in front of Bucky again, but just like always you end up gripping his shoulders to keep from falling as he does a perfect come hither with his two fingers as his thumb rubs with the perfect amount of pressure on your throbbing clitoris. He can’t resist and licks your peak for good measure until you hold your breath as he sucks sloppily and until you come on his hand and just as quickly as always. Your wild moaning is nearly feral but you could not care less. It makes you smile to hear him laugh softly so pleased with himself and you and your eyes shut as you pant, catching your breath.

Lowering your head, your eyes only half open, you both look over at Bucky who is glaring at the Baron.

“James.”

“Yes.”

“Stop breaking the rules.”

“Yes Baron.” He says giving in completely.

Zemo smiles and slowly pulls his fingers free from you, raising his hand just enough to show them so wet and sticky and glistening. He kisses your belly and looks up at you. “Go lie down.” He says rubbing your stomach, smoothing his hand over your soft tuft of hair. You’re still floating as you do, happy to go and rest and leave them to it.

“Would you like to come now?” You hear Zemo ask Bucky as he gets up and goes around the chair.

“Please.” Bucky whispers watching you sink down onto the bed on your side.

“I can finish you off just as quickly as I did her.”

“Yes. Please.” He begs through clenched teeth rising up again as if presenting himself to be relieved, the steady rush of blood to his lower half turning his cock a darker shade of desperate as it rises up like a tower ready to fall. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” He pants “I’m sorry I tried to fuck her. I’m sorry for breaking your rules. And I will do anything, please just… fuck. Please!”

Helmut leans down hushing him, pressing his face close to Bucky’s, grabbing him around the chest as his left hand comes reaching over his stomach promising an end to the day’s long torment.

He grips the soldiers gorgeous, endlessly taunted dick; your natural lubricant replacing the oil to help glide his fingers along.

When Zemo starts to work Bucky you can see through the look on his face that this is all he’s wanted to do for so long and you are reminded that this is as much the Baron’s discipline as it is yours— as it is Bucky’s.

Bucky makes a deep sound that gets your attention. His body flexes and you think he looks like a bomb ready to blow. A sexy, finely muscled, lightly tanned bomb with a look of pained excitement as his legs open and his jaw flexes.

“Are you mine James?” Zemo asks, his lips brushing his ear,

“Yes” He says pitifully raising his hips, thrusting once into the Baron’s hand just as Zemo lets go. A deep frown fixes between Bucky’s brows as he waits until Zemo grabs again and starts to perfectly stroke him.

Bucky’s mouth opens, his eyes fix on the incredibly hypnotic rhythm of Zemo’s hand.

“You’ve always been mine haven’t you?”

“Yes!” Bucky nearly shouts, his brows turned down with the exquisite anguish of the nearing release.

“Say it again,” Zemo demands, his right arm tight around Bucky, his eyes shut relishing in the control and the love, you listen to the wet rhythm as it gets faster.

“Yes.”

“Say it!”

“I’ve always been yours” Bucky moans loudly and glances over at you unable to keep your hand away from your pussy selfishly wanting to come again.

“Once more.” Helmut says opening his eyes. The muscle of his arm is flexed beautifully as he pounds.

Bucky moans so similarly to you that Helmut just smiles. He knows, he understands the hold he has over you both.

“I’m yours” Bucky manages and the Baron focuses his movement as if pulling the orgasm from Bucky’s body willing it to come forward. He jerks his hand up and away…but this time he’s finished the job.

He holds Bucky as the man cries out, his hips rising high this time, his cock pulsing with a tight up and down as he finally —god, finally— gives a high pitched groan with that first explosive release of come that shoots past his stomach and onto his own chest followed by equally satisfying spasms that send milky droplets flying free into the air and across his stomach onto Zemo’s arms; Bucky’s groaning and gasping near tears with the absolute exhaustion and relief of his well deserved climax, his moans and gasps of surprise so raw and unaffected.

By the time he lowers back down to the chair unable to do much more than sit there, limp and panting with his eyes closed, Helmut is holding him, caring nothing for the mess. He seems to love the sight of the pearlescent results of Bucky’s incredible orgasm as much as you do.

Smiling as he strokes Bucky’s hair, kissing his temple, he says with a tone only Helmut Zemo could manage at a moment like this, “You see. When you listen to me, I make it worth every second, every moment of torment. Yes?”

Bucky nods but it’s weak.

Zemo chuckles softly, kisses him again and reaches down easily undoing the ropes.

“Look at you both.” He says trying to sound angry, as if it’s not all his fault. “You can’t come to dinner like this. I’ll run a bath.”

He leaves Bucky and comes to the bed bending over you, his hand so sticky from the combination is heavy on your belly as he kisses your lips. “Hows your ass?” He asks.

“Still on fire.” You say and he winks as he rises.

“Good."

*

“You’re pretty quiet over there.” Bucky says splashing you from across the large tub. You’ve both been in for a while now after Zemo took a quick shower and left you alone letting you know he’d be up waiting at the dinner table.

Roused from your daydream but still not sure you want to talk about why you’re so quiet, you glance over and shrug.

“Whats wrong? You’re not mad about what happened are you?” Bucky asks sliding a little closer. The tub is surprisingly big in an already large bathroom and yet again you wonder how you’ll return to real life when this all ends.

“What happened?” You ask him.

“Getting you in trouble? He really put a shine on your backside.” Bucky says, a smile breaking through any attempt at being serious.

You sit up surprised to hear that’s what he thinks it could be. “Ha! No. Not at all. That was amazing… god” You tip your head back, the image of Bucky, naked and tired to a chair with Zemo holding him and whispering in his ear will be seared into your mind for life. “I didn’t know you could come that much.” You say, slowly looking back down at him,trying not to giggle.

“Neither did I.” He says practically blushing before he grins. “Same goes for you.” He tosses right back.

You laugh and roll your eyes. “Okay well we both know he’s capable of turning us into sex crazed idiots apparently.” You say with a cheeky grin and Bucky laughs shaking his head with a sigh.

“What is it? Some Sokovian spell or something, magic from the old world?” Bucky says with a thick accent wiggling his wet soapy fingers in the air.

Laughing you scrunch your nose. “Nah, that’s all him. Just wait until you’ve been around him long enough to get to the good stuff.”

“The good stuff!” He looks shocked “Well what the hell is all this!”

“This is amazing, but it not… well it’s not him. Theres so much more than sex. Watching tv. Eating dinner in bed. Naps— once he read to me.” You say with a sigh and the room goes silent as you both slip into a day dream laced with Helmuts beautiful voice surrounding you as he reads the classics on a warm summer night…

“You think he sits around daydreaming about us like this?” Bucky asks with a frown. “I worry sometimes.”

“Really?” You ask looking into his big blue eyes. Hundred years old and still so sweet. “Of course he does. Bucky, he wouldn’t have done any of this if he didn’t spend as much time thinking of us as we do him. Don’t be so naive”

He nods looking out the window and you know he’s just out of practice. He probably had a swarm of girls around him back when his life was normal. Maybe even a secret guy. But how long ago had that been. And since he’d been released from the words, his only real time spent with anyone has been with the two of you. For a moment you wonder if that’s fair. He should go out on dates or something, but then again you did try to get him on some apps. He hated them all. Women swiped right like it was their job of course, but he thought it was strange and wanted to meet them the old fashioned way but when he did he could only focus on what he didn’t like and just compared them to you— and Zemo.

“Hey.” You get his attention again. “I mean it, I’m really not upset about anything that happened earlier. Thanks for being such a rule breaker.” You say with a wink.

“No problem” He laughs as if that was his intention. Bucky’s expression softens as he sits back, the water rocking under the bubbles.

Bubbles. Talk about a diva, is anyone is on this big ass boat it’s him. Two adults having a bath drawn from them; why not throw in the bubbles. You roll your eyes ignoring the way your chest gets tight with the feel of being so adored and loving every second of his over the top ways and focus on Bucky who looks stunning in the bath— your heart sinking just a little.

“So what is it?” He asks unaware of your many distractions.

You look back to the window staring up at the sky for a while. “I’m just… sad.” You say giving in to the truth “I mean, I’m thrilled being here. But I’ve had this idea that I could talk you into staying with us. I keep imagining this life with you and Helmut and I know it can’t happen for so many reasons but I’m stubborn and spoiled. I truly hate not getting my way. So I keep thinking, maybe.”

He goes quiet now understanding, and then you feel his hand on your knee under the water. “I know. I’ve thought about it too. Maybe a little too much. Definitely enough that I’ve almost convinced myself it could work, but no. It just wouldn’t.”

You press your lips hesitant to say in case you might offend him but decide to just go for it. “And you’re sure it’s not just that you miss it? Saving the world and everything? I mean, I can see how it would be appealing— from controlled killer to stoic hero.” You tease gently, wiggling your brows up and down until he laughs a little, probably more annoyed than you’d like, and whatever facade you’d put on crumbles. The look of heartbreak turns your brows down, twisting your face with the agony of losing him. He looks surprised to see you so broken about it and finds your hand through the water.

“Hey hey hey.” He pulls but you’re not in the mood to be comforted. Bucky hates when you don’t let him coddle you, but he knows better than to fight it so he simply answers your question. “Yes.Well. No I mean, it’s nice. But honestly, if you really want to know, I could get used to being domesticated.” He shrugs letting go of your hand as he looks towards the shower where Zemo was and you swallow the tears that have been overpowered by your intrigue.

Managing a laugh at his expense you poke his arm on the rim of the tub. “Really? By me or Helmut?” You ask and swear you see him blush.

“You’ve already proven you can turn me into a homebody, and happy to be there, so —Maybe both?” He shrugs and there is such a tone of possibility in his statement that you’re instantly transported into a world in which the three of you are living happily. Maybe in this Mediterranean paradise, you’ve just come home from the market with ingredients for a dinner that Bucky has asked you to pick up and you help him cook while music blasts in your small but bright kitchen and you dance around until the house smells delicious and you set the table, flirting and toying with one another until everything looks beautiful before rushing to sit just as your Baron comes through the door…

Even here and now sitting in the tub with you, Bucky looks like the sweetest house husband glowing a soft gold in the light of the sun. What you wouldn’t give to be his forever. His his and hers, you think and your chin quivers with the threat of happy miserable tears.

Bucky isn’t oblivious to your hurting but he’s trying to keep strong, he can’t give in to you, not this time. “We’ll never know if I stick around.” He says and your little vision fades “I think I’ve got one visit, maybe two in me before someone notices an avenger hanging around their town and his cover is blown. You don’t want that. I don’t want that. I’d never forgive myself."

“I know.” You say and only realize that your head is down when his hand, which is covered in white bubbles reaches to lift your chin.

“Hey, come one. None of that. We’ve only got a little bit of time. I just want to make the most of it. Give me enough good memories to finally forget about whats left of the bad.”

You smile and nod, blowing the bubbles away before they go up your nose. “Fine.” You sigh and look back out the window hugging your knees. “Buck, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He says only cringing a little when you call him Buck.

“Do you think you might ever love him?”

Bucky freezes. He looks— odd. Uncomfortable. Exposed? You realize very quickly that he already does, even if he’s not aware of it and decide not to push him

“It’s okay. I was just curious.” You say and try to calm him with your smile “We come from very different worlds. Letting myself love a man like Helmut Zemo took little to no effort for me, for you— I know why it might come as a shock. But I think you’ll find, when you do admit it to yourself and to him, he might just surprise you with how quickly he says it back.”

#zemo x reader #bucky barns x you #winterbaron #winterbaron x you #buckybarnes/zemo #tfatws #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #winterbaron fic #baron helmut zemo #zemo #self insert #yacht life #these two #i love them so much #also ouch