#cabernetxreader

synopsis: how the path to nowhere women give you special attention ♡ a bit suggestive. heavily inspired off of @a-certain-romance 's fic; all credit goes to them!

contains: zoya, cabernet, angell, rahu, bai yi, and shalom!

Zoya - S- 028

It shouldn't come as a surprise that the Legion's leader spends a good portion of her free time working out, if she isn't giving orders to her men or working alongside Horo and Earl. When she isn't at the scene of a violent riot in Syndicate or downing another four cans of beer in her office, she has to find other ways to relieve her stress, right?

Gloved fists slam against the tattered material of her punching bag, a low string of grunts escaping the woman's purple-grey painted lips. Again. Another series of punches land, Zoya's fierce, cool blue eyes trained on the sight of crimson leather in front of her, biceps flexing with each hit. Your eyes can't help but trail along her form: her brows furrowed fiercely with determination, strong, tattooed arms glistening with perspiration, and her muscles flexing and rippling with exertion.

And oh.. oh

Your gaze trails lower, from the prominent edges of her collarbones, the curves of her breasts swaying beneath her tight fitted top, and finally, to her abdomen. That black sports bra of hers ends just at her ribcage, exposing the tantalizing view of her toned six pack, tightening with tension. Sweat rolls down her body, those translucent drops of moisture dripping along the ridges and valleys in between her abs, glittering enticingly below the dim lighting. You almost have half a mind to approach her, kneel down and take a lick or two for yourself..

But she's quicker, and much more attentive. Another groan parts her lips, chest heaving as she takes a step back from the punching bag. Her fists were still held up beside her face, panting as she catches her breath; sweat trickles down her temples and down the curves of her jaw and chin. And then, her eyes flicker over to meet yours. Zoya isn't oblivious; she knows what that look in your eyes carries, no matter how much you try to look away or worry your bottom lip with your teeth.

She chuckles, a breathy, soft tease escaping her: "Are you going to just watch? Why don't we have a bout instead? I'll stand there without moving, and I won't even use my hands."

Your cheeks flush, caught right in the act. But she isn't bothered—quite the contrary. Her lips curve into that signature smirk of hers, and it almost bothers you how effortlessly attractive she is. But you take a step closer to her, eyes locking with hers, and she can't help but lean back against the wall, eyeing you closely. It seems that her little training session has been momentarily forgotten about, in favor of eyeing you with a certain, smoldering look in her eyes.

"I think I have a better way for us to test our strength..."

Cabernet - S- 079

Miss Cabernet Franc is a very, very ravenous woman. A typical day for her is one filled with little restraint and much, much indulgence. The esteemed woman cannot resist her temptations, whether that be her ripe, exquisite purple grapes or the nourishing souls of certain humans. She isn't picky, quite the contrary; notorious she is for feasting (or attempting to) on the souls of certain impressionable sinners of the MBCC..

And you are no exception

As her beloved maid, you serve her endlessly, in more ways than one. Tidying her bed, cleaning around her estate, tending to the garden and the vineyard, and more importantly to her, cooking and serving her delectable meals. You are an illustrious, honorable human in her eyes, and in only her mind does she possess the knowledge that those are the ones who always give off the most irresistible aromas, finer than the sweetest, ripest grape.

This afternoon, you find yourself humming a soft tune, back turned as you prepare her dinner. The scent of marinated chicken permeates the air of the kitchen and the dining room, mellow, golden potatoes, smoky, savory bacon, and rich, earthy mushroom boiling within stew and broth inside a simmering pot; and it immediately lures the sinner into the space.

Her heels click slowly, graciously yet calculatingly into the kitchen, lavender eyes glimmering as they glide along your form. Smooth back, frilly, dainty black maid dress with white, lacy embellishments, and matching white stockings wrapped around your thighs to boot... it seems the sight of you was leaving her much more famished than the aroma of the stew.

Slowly, she trails behind you, manicured fingers finding purchase on your hips as she stands behind you. She leans down, scarlet lips parting right beside your ear with her soft murmurs: "You seem to be looking forward to dining with me too, don't you?"

It makes you jump in place, turning around to face her with a startled look on your face, eyes wide all too adorable in her eyes: "Miss Franc..!"

She giggles, a melodic harmony escaping her throat in rich tones, comparable to the sweet, yet flavorful grapes that squish beneath her canines and slither down her throat in a liquidly river of pleasure.

"But... I've decided that I'd rather dine on you instead, hmm..."

Angell- S- 049

Angell was... conflicted, to say the least.

Ever since she first breathed life, the world had been nothing short of perilous for her. Being a hitwoman was a simple, yet effective occupation for the chaos obstructing Syndicate; locate the target, exterminate them, dispose of their body, receive the payment, and head home. Just like clockwork, it was something she had become incredibly accustomed to, and her demeanor too had become just as unfazed, swift yet efficient as her responsibilities.

Surfing the dark web was.. unsettling, yet at this point, nothing really unsettled her. After all, pestilence had become her constant companion; darkness spread throughout her mind and body like a deadly plague, and she was in no rush to resist its presence. Instead, she took what she could, because why wouldn't she? There was no one or no-thing for her, waiting for her, depending on her.

And then you came

You had begun to creep into her life, just like the dark plague that consumed her spirit. Your tender smile, warm, and inviting gaze, gentle touches, and your constant presence that seemed to always know what she was in need of. Whether it verbally escaped her lips or not. She had to resist; she couldn't bear the walls she had meticulously built from the ground up over the last few decades to suddenly collapse.

But you didn't care, of course you didn't. From showing up uninvited into her safehouse, going grocery shopping for her and arriving with bags of food and toiletries that she was very, very much in need of. Seriously, how is one simply fine with stomaching five year old expired ramen?

And each time you came into her life, you were relentless, almost obstructive of her barriers, of her cold and aloof demeanor, and part of that perplexed her. Especially now, after teaching her how to cook her favorite red bean soup, you stand beside her in front of the stove in her kitchen. Your gaze, ever gentle yet curious, glides over to hers, and she doesn't even need to look up to know you're staring.

"Staring at me won't help, you can't catch up with my movements. If I want to leave, you can't keep me."

It was metaphorical, of course. She was still so determined, so convinced that she was always one step ahead of you, in control of the situation. Supporting and stacking brick upon brick, layers of concrete that propped up her intricately built walls. But as you step closer, warm hand gently placing itself over hers, the one that's currently wrapped around the ladle inside the pot, it's like a silent, gentle reassurance. That you were there for her, whether she was in need of it or not. Slowly, a low sigh escapes her lips, golden gaze only briefly flickering towards yours.

"I... can't say I'm entirely opposed to it.."

Rahu- S- 048

You couldn't help but feel a little bad for shackling Rahu. You knew it was necessary, not only to gain more control over her impulses and her rage, but to chain the conscious link between her presence, her convictions, and her inhibitions, and yours. She was compliant, ironically like a dog, which she oftentimes compared herself to, and would not resist.

You knew her well, and sometimes, you knew her better than she even knew herself. The shackles would not harm her, nor would she harm their owner, and it mirrored a similar bond of trust that you had managed to meticulously build with her. At first, she intrigued you; her cold, stoic, yet angry persona coupled with her obedient, efficient methodology served for an.. interesting juxtaposition, to say the least. Was this really the same woman?

And despite the mutual, almost transactional relationship that you first fostered, you found yourself craving more. You feel so much safer and calmer when she is around, when her towering, sturdy frame plots itself right in front of yours, prepared to face any potential danger that could be potentially lingering by. Your heart felt warm inside, undoubtably so, and you soon idealized slowly peeling away at the mask that perfectly concealed her beautiful face, both physically and metaphorically.

So you can't stop yourself when you go to visit, visit her cell just turning a few rights after leaving your office. You have found yourself doing this at least four times this week, and you feel rather shameless, yet at the same time, you don't really care. You crave her presence.

Sitting atop her bed, Rahu slowly lifts her head, long, silky black locks curtaining over her back and sides, and her cool, greyish blue eyes meeting yours as she finds your form standing right before her cell. A gentle, expectant sigh escapes her lips:

"You don't have to come and keep an eye on me yourself. The shackles won't break that easily. You just want to spend some time with me? Oh, all right."

Her brows lightly furrow, gazing at you with a hint of surprise and something else. She was certainly not accustomed to spending time with other companions, and especially not accustomed to the practice of small talk. And yet, she finds herself appreciating your unwavering support, your endless care, and your constant regard for her wellbeing and safety, just as she does with you. With a silent wave lingering in the air, her gloved palm slowly reaches towards the mask resting on her face, slipping it off in one motion, comfortable with barring her vulnerable skin to you, scars and all.

It was a foreign feeling, yet not an unwelcome one. But simply an adjustment she was more than willing to get used to. A subtle smile stretches across her lips, tender, soft spoken voice speaking out to you.

"I appreciate your efforts, even when you’re aware I am very capable of losing control, over my sanity, over my body. If it's refuge you seek in me, do not hesitate to come to me."

Bai Yi- S- 027

You couldn't find it in you to refuse when Bai Yi had invited you to the bar, long, dark and dead into the night. Not when she was so purposely tempting, teasing you with those sly winks and the ever deliberate sway of her hips in those ridiculously skin-tight pants. That teasing smirk that curled along her glossy lips, her violet, manicured fingernails that tapped and slid along your chin, bringing your gaze to hers; it was so predictable yet so oddly charming every single time.

And so, you agreed.

It was pitch-dark and desolate outside in Syndicate, yet the night was far from over. The vibrant lighting of the sign slapped against the fence of the bar seemed to slap you in the face too, yet to Bai Yi, it was like a warm, halo-like glow that seemed to have came just at the right time, the perfect cure to the darkness that had been overtaking her mind and well being. That, and your form sitting right in front of her.

Enthusiastic chatter escaped both your lips and hers, engaging in light conversation regarding the recent sales and success of Whitestone Industries, in which she sneakily slid you a predictable promise of a 15% discount with an easy slip of the tongue (don't tell K.K though)

And with an unmistakable floaty feeling sinking into your bones, you two decide to order an expensive bottle of champagne to share, which was definitely out of Bai Yi's budget. But she was willing to indulge, just for you. One glass became two, and then three, and then you found yourself becoming a little bolder, more than you would have normally accounted for. Consequently, you are at least a little tipsy, as is she, evident in her appearance.

Her cheeks were a rosy, warm pink hue, and her glossy, peachy lips were curved upwards in a much more smug manner than usual, which was saying a lot. Those lidded, cerulean eyes meet yours, left hand idly swishing the half empty glass of champagne around. You find yourself captivated by her beauty, the playful look in her eyes and her overall dangerously flirty demeanor. That hand resting on her cheek and her full bangs swept to the side. You can't help yourself, and so instinctively, you lean in across the table, as if to further push yourself into the warmth of her presence. A giggle escapes her, signature smirk gracing her lips:

"Are you so eager to be close to me? Oh my, such an honest kid."

You can't help but flush, lips curving into a grumbly, shy pout. As you start to lean back again, she just laughs at your cuteness, leaning more casually against the table while regarding you. You were far too easy to tease, and it brought her so much satisfaction. Yet she wasn't done just yet, after all, the night was still young.

"Aw, c'mon.. I was just messing with you. Say, why don't you hitch a ride with me on my motorcycle? I've got something way more interesting to show you..."

Shalom- S- 017

Shalom will continue to be such a mystery to you, yet a fascinating one at that. The woman was incredibly calculated and levelheaded, yet something about her presence made you feel equal parts uneasy and enticed. There was definitely more to her than she let on, that you knew for sure, but you wanted to experience it firsthand for yourself.

Which is why you find yourself in this predicament.

You had agreed to accompany her to a social gathering taking place in Eastside. Naturally, it involved messy political affairs and a slurry of elites withholding hidden agendas, yet it didn’t phase her. She was here to uphold her image and to complete her job, and your presence alongside her only made matters all the more interesting.

You take it that now is a good time to spare her a few glances, given she was currently preoccupied discussing matters with another important person (you suspect a benefactor of Paradeisos). It was the perfect opportunity to satisfy your curiosity, to take in every single one of her features and analyze them in your mind, piecing each clue together like it was the puzzle to solving the mystery that is her.

First, it was the rich, plum-tinged hue of her hair. at least, the hair at her roots, which then cascaded into a soft white, ivory gradient that concluded at her ends. her perfectly plucked and trimmed eyebrows, and the delicate arch of her nose bridge. of course, there was that ever elusive smirk plastered across her face, the one that hid many secrets and (potentially) sadistic pleasures. well.. at least the pleasure she got from watching you squirm uncomfortably in your seat beneath her gaze.

And then you stare into her eyes. deeply. violety dark pools of mystery and intrigue, long, fluttery eyelashes, the subtlest of plump skin beneath her waterlines.. wait.. was her right eye always like that?

A glowing, bright triangle took its place in replacement of a standard pupil. or..no, it was actually lightly covering her pupil, like an eclipse curtaining, shielding an ever innocent, dazzling new moon.

Shalom’s guarded conversation had long since concluded with that ever prying noble. she’s taken notice of your curiosity, this moment of vulnerability you were displaying, and seized the opportunity to tease the hell out of you.

"Do you have to stare at me like that? (Chuckles lightly) All right then, I'm gonna do the same to you."

You finally snap yourself out of your little trance, blinking rapidly at once. your gaze lightly diverts hers before you snap out of it. you really don’t want to fall prey to her gaze, nor do you want to appear too weak or impressionable in her presence; it’ll give her way too much power over you. immediately, your lips curl into a stubborn frown, gaze training neutrally over hers. but it’s far too late at this point. she’s far too amused and certainly three steps ahead of you..

“Aww.. did I manage to catch you off guard? I enjoy that look on your face. You’d make for such an adorable, obedient puppy.”

Hook, line and sinker.. great..