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rin-fukuroi · 3 months

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𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 [𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: Aventurine x dealer!fem!reader

Warnings: gambling, sexual tension.

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq I'm just starting my blog on Boosty, but I'll be glad if you support me with a subscription and read the full NSFW version of this work there. Soon there will be other works that will not be published on Tumblr.

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. VIVIZ — MANIAC

You have long heard from other casino employees about a certain visitor, which comes here quite often, but you have never been lucky enough to meet him until today. The girls sighed languidly, referring to him as a handsome man, preparing to serve him the best drink, for which he would pay generously, and the men working in security only irritably noted that if he visited the institution today, they would only have more work. Then you didn't pay any attention to their words until one of the bar staff squealed with delight, energetically pointing at the blond man who entered the hall.

A dazzling smile, a light gait, but a sly look hidden behind gold glasses, gliding across the tables and the employees standing behind them before playfully sparkling violet-blue eyes rest on you. Your back straightens reflexively, and your fingers wrap around the back of your hand, and you nod in greeting when several men, led by a blond man, approach your poker table. You have been working in the field of gambling for several years, so you can easily notice expensive watches, chains and rings on his hands and a long earring in the ear of an elegant man in a hat, dressed in a black jacket with a fur collar, a turquoise shirt with a small but provocative neckline on the chest and white trousers with patent leather shoes. In total, all the clothes and trinkets of this person can be compared to the cost of your life. Winning will not matter to him, as losing will not greatly affect the quality of his life, which means he simply enjoys a sense of excitement and superiority, since, according to rumors, he plays very well.

«Well…»

— Oh? I haven't seen you before, — the blond man lowers his glasses on the bridge of his nose, smiling slyly at you as soon as you raise your head.

— I'm sorry, sir, today I'm serving you, because the dealer who is more familiar to you is ill, but I assure you, this will not affect the quality of the time spent in our institution in any way, — you kindly answer with a calm expression on your face, which causes the blonde to chuckle softly.

— How official! Relax, honey, — the man leans lower, slightly tilting his head to one side, carefully watching how the expression on your face changes to a more tense one. — It's a pity that… Oh, what was her name? — the blonde pulls away, thinking for a second, trying to remember the name of your colleague, but in the end only sighs briefly, spreading his hands. — It doesn't matter. You've been brought up to date, that we're going to need a separate room, haven't you?

— Yes, sir. Please follow me.

An unpleasant person. It was clear from afar that it was better to stay as far away from him as possible. These vibes of nauseating self-confidence and narcissism definitely don't bode well, but you still humbly do your duty, pulling on a smile and letting the guests into the VIP-room. Usually this room is rented by companies of influential people whose names are so well known to everyone that such guests don't even bother to introduce themselves, because you always know who they are, but these men… You're seeing them for the first time.

Anyway, a job is a job.

— Have a seat, dear guests. Would you like to see the bar menu?

Men in suits silently take their seats, and only an energetic blonde immediately responds to the sound of your voice, standing in front of the last empty chair.

— We'll order the same as usual,— the stranger says sweetly, spreading into a frighteningly sweet smile that sends chills down my spine.

— I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't know…

— Oh, how could I forget! — the blond man clasps his hands in a gesture of apology. — Whiskey on the rocks.

His theatricality is a little annoying, but that's none of your business.

— As you wish, sir.

The female silhouette peeking out from behind the slightly open door and instantly disappearing after the blonde's words only made your task easier, allowing you not to even leave the room. It seems that this man is really very popular among girls, which, in principle, isn't surprising. A pretty face, a thick purse and a sugary voice, like a demeanor, are the pillars that support the classic image of a heartthrob in the eyes of any woman. It would be fascinating if you hadn't met such people before. This place is teeming with both men and women, sometimes even reasonably believing that the whole world belongs to them. Perhaps you would have bought into his charisma too, if you were as frivolous as a bar employee rushing into a room no more than five minutes after the order was placed.

— Thank you, dear. As always, you help out, otherwise my friends seem to be out of sorts today, — the blond man chuckles melodiously, looking at the other five guests. You can almost see in their stern looks the desire to strangle this talkative flatterer, and you can't help but chuckle to yourself.

— Anything for our beloved visitor! Have a nice game, — your friend blushes, smiling shyly before leaving the room, barely restraining a satisfied squeak.

You modestly clear your throat, drawing the attention of everyone at the table to yourself.

— Well, gentlemen, shall we begin?

You leave the button* in front of the blond man sitting first on your left hand. Early* is the most unfavorable position to start the game, but he should have known about it when he sat down here, or is it just an accident?

After the preflop*, while you were deftly shuffling the deck in your hands, someone had already started emptying their glass of whiskey, someone took out a pair of fragrant chocolate cigars. The blonde just watched carefully how skillfully you dealt the cards, not missing a single movement of your fingers. For a second, you even doubted that he didn't trust the new dealer, but every time you dared to look at him, his lips stretched into an even more sugary smile, and his eyes always found yours. Is he trying to get you into the same emotions as the silly waitresses? You wonder how soon he'll lose interest in your indifferent face?

The game went on quite calmly until three people remained at the table, including a smiling blond man.

— Ace of hearts, two of spades, jack of hearts, ten of clubs, two of hearts. The bets are made, you can open, — you say in a monotone voice, glancing at the cards on the table that turn over one by one.

«Street? Not bad…» — you stop looking at the blond's cards before you hear a thud on the table. After looking at the other hands it became clear that there is nothing on the table stronger than two pairs.

— Oh, don't get mad! We've just started, — the blond man raises his hands in an innocent gesture, chuckling softly, it seems, making the man opposite even angrier.

It seems that now you understand a little what the casino guards were so unhappy about, but the more games passed, the more sad the blonde's position became. The empty glasses were hastily replaced with newly filled ones with a new portion of whiskey, and the concentration of smoke in the small room became more and more suffocating, it seems, only exposing the undisguised glee of the men at the table, allowing themselves to mock the blonde, who was catastrophically unlucky today. A flush* against a royal flush, a pair against a square* and, in the end, his hand could only boast of the highest card*. What a disappointment.

— Here, order yourself one more whiskey, — one of the departing men casually tossed a couple of chips in front of the blond man sprawled on a chair, grinning hoarsely before staggering slightly out of the room after the other four, whose loud voices disappeared into the noise of the casino outside the door.

— Sure, — the man who remained at the table smiled gently at the departing acquaintance before taking a sip from his glass.

You wanted to say something, maybe even encourage him, but it's not your way to mind your own business, so you just silently gathered the cards from the table, about to ask the guest to leave the room, when suddenly he spoke first.

— That's not what you expected, is it? — you turn to the blond man, who is resting his head on his own palm. The same strange smile is still playing on his lips, even despite how much money he left at this institution today. He's really weird.

— I don't know what you mean. I don't know how you play, so I couldn't even try to predict the outcome of the game.

— Come on. You know how I play. That girl from the bar told you about me, didn't she?

Annoy.

— Even so, I'm not used to trust rumors, — you reply indifferently, carefully putting the cards back in the box.

— In that case, now you can conclude that I'm a lousy player? Oh, that would be unfortunate, because everyone has unlucky days.

— I don't think it's about luck, — you wanted to say that someone should just drink less and make less risky bets, but you restrained yourself, maintaining professionalism.

— Ho-oh? Then what is it? — the blond man perked up even more, waiting curiously for your answer.

— It is not appropriate for me to give advice to visitors, because my earnings, among other things, depend on them.

— That's how it is! So I was wrong when I decided that you weren't like the other girls looking at my wallet?

— It turns out that it is. But I'm looking at the wallets of every potentially profitable player for me, — you shrug your shoulders. — And now, if you'll excuse me, you should leave the room, since the game is over.

— How pragmatic, you remind me of someone I know, — the blond man, as if he hadn't heard your last words, gets up from his chair, coming closer. — So you don't believe in luck, huh?

The man leans slightly forward, looking into your eyes from under the half-lowered glasses on the bridge of his nose. The expensive sweet fragrance of the perfume instantly cuts into your nostrils, and you take a small step back.

— It's absurdly to rely only on luck in poker. That's all I wanted to say.

— Hm-m … — the blond man pretends to think. — You're right. Then what about roulette?

— Even roulette has its own patterns, but if we don't go into details, of course, this game revolves exclusively around chance.

— Great! Then can we play? — the man turns towards the roulette table, which has apparently not been used for a long time, in the corner of the room.

— I'm afraid my shift is already over… — you frown, even before you finish, he interrupts you.

— Oh, I was so catastrophically unlucky today that I just want to win back at least another game, otherwise I won't be able to sleep peacefully tonight… Are you really that heartless?

— You can use the services of a croupier and play roulette in the hall.

— It would be sad, because I already liked you, — the blonde smiles, looking into your eyes again.

— If you're trying to flirt with me like that, then I'm in a hurry to upset you — it won't work, — you reply irritably, about to leave, when suddenly a weak grip on your wrist stops you.

— I'm sad to hear that, but what if I make a bet?

You turn around, batting your eyelashes in puzzlement when you meet the sharp gaze of a man's violet-blue eyes.

— You can't play roulette without betting, what's the point of all this?

— Let's say… if my bet plays out, you owe me a kiss, what do you say?

You almost boil with anger, looking at this personification of self-confidence standing in front of you.

— I'm not going to play your games, let go of my hand.

The attempt to pull back your hand was unsuccessful, on the contrary, only forcing the blond to pull you closer.

— It seems that luck isn't on my side today, so if I lose, I'll just leave.

The desire to just slap him in the face is almost impossible to ignore, but you wouldn't be working here if you weren't a gambling person too. Your lips stretch into an arrogant smile as you approach the blond man's face, slightly squinting your eyes.

— In that case, on what number* will you put it on?

The blond man's eyebrows rise, after which a ringing laugh is heard in the room.

— I knew you could entertain me! — the man lets go of your hand, but does not take a step away from you before saying softly. — I'm betting on zero.

«He's crazy!»

You almost laughed at how crazy his bet turned out to be, but it sounds like he's already agreed to leave you alone, so you just smiled, silently retreating to the corner of the dimly lit room. The table has indeed not been used for a long time, having already become covered with a layer of dust, but you take a small ball, gently rolling it in your hand before turning towards the blond man who remains standing at the poker table. He doesn't seem to care at all that he's going to lose now, and the smile doesn't leave his face for a second. It will be all the sweeter to see how the expression on his face will change when he loses.

— Your bet is accepted, — you say loudly before spinning the roulette wheel by throwing a ball at it.

The man doesn't even look at the spinning roulette wheel, instead watching your eyes follow the ball as it slides across the sectors.

12, 35, 3, 26, and finally….

— It can't be… — you whisper, eyes wide open and just looking at how the ball stopped at zero.

— Ho-oh? What's is it? Judging by your reaction, did I win? — the blond man grins, slowly removing his hat from his head and leaving the hat on the edge of the poker table.

This can't be happening. Betting on numbers is always a huge risk, because the chance that the ball will stop at the chosen one is incredibly small. Was he… really just lucky?

You purse your lips, summoning all the self-control you have to turn to the man with an indifferent expression on your face.

— That's right, congratulations on winning, sir.

— M-m… it's not just a win, you remember the conditions, right? — the blond man says playfully, slowly walking towards you, until finally he towers over you, elegantly ripping the glasses off his face.

«This jerk has probably been rehearsing this for years…»

— I didn't have to accept such bets at all, — you mutter irritably.

— I understand your disappointment, but still, you accepted it. Be kind enough to hand me my prize, — you look into the extraordinarily beautiful eyes of a man, trying your best to deny how really attractive he looks without glasses and a hat.

— Ahem… okay. But can I at least get your name? I wouldn't want to kiss a complete stranger.

— Huh? So you don't know who I am? How cute, — the blond man squints, breaking into a smile. — You can call me Aventurine. And you… — the man hooks the badge on your chest with the tip of his finger. — Y/N.

Where have all your old composure gone? They probably got lost somewhere in the midst of this madness, which for some reason you signed up for, following your own excitement. Self-confidence is just as much your enemy as Aventurine, only in this case he is elated with victory, and you are trying to collect your thoughts in order to fulfill the conditions of the game he started.

— Excuse me… — you mumble awkwardly before pressing your lips to the man's cheek, leaving as quick a kiss as possible to hastily turn away, hiding the blush that has appeared on your face.

— Hey! And what was that? — Aventurine says in disappointment, touching the place of your kiss with the tips of his black-gloved fingers.

— You asked for a kiss, but didn't specify which one, — you try to sound confident, but still mentally berate yourself for not being able to look into his eyes right now.

— Oh… — the blond man sighs heavily, pulling away and approaching the roulette table. — I'm not satisfied with such a victory. Let's do it again.

— Huh?! — you cry out indignantly, looking at the back of the impudent man rolling the ball around the zero sector. — I shouldn't be here at all, and neither should you!

— I'm betting on zero again.

You freeze, raising an eyebrow when you turn to Aventurine.

— You're going to lose.

— Maybe, — the man shrugs, turning to face you and leaning on the edge of the table. — But if the bet plays out again, you'll give me a real long kiss.

— I'm not going to waste my time on this madness. The chances of hitting zero a second time are so small that it's easier for you to just leave this room right now, since it's simply impossible to play this bet.

— Let it be so. You don't lose anything if you're so sure of my defeat, do you? Besides, didn't you say that you don't give advice to the players?

It annoys you how logical his words sound. But what's even more annoying is that you really doubt it. It's just not possible. You have to show this arrogant idiot his place.

— Okay, — and here you go back to the roulette table again. — But if you lose, you will never return to this casino again.

Aventurine's purple eyes widen before flashing a gambling spark.

— And you know how to make the game more interesting, — the man grins, picking up the ball from the table, carefully leaving it in your hand. — I agree.

This will be the craziest bet anyone has ever made in the entire existence of this casino. And it only fuels your interest too. You spin the wheel in anticipation by throwing the ball. Your heart is pounding in your chest, as if your own life is at stake. It's been a long time since you've experienced such adrenaline, no matter how absurd what's happening, because it's worth it to win…

— Ha-ha! It seems that today is really my day, — Aventurine grins as the ball slowly rolls and stops at sector zero. Again. — The money I lost in poker was worth spending all my luck on such a tempting prize.

Impossible. He just did the impossible. What were the chances? The mind is so devastated by shock that you can't even approximate the probability, just silently looking at the green sector in amazement.

— You're not… cheating, are you? — you're almost whispering, without opening your eyes from the little ball.

— What cruel accusations! How, tell me, could I cheat at roulette? — the man clicks his tongue in frustration, slowly wrapping his arm around your waist before pulling your body towards his. — If these are just assumptions without any evidence, I think it's time to start awarding the second prize.

The lips open, releasing a soft sigh into the air. You feel the warmth emanating from his body, the smell that his nauseatingly expensive clothes exude, and you feel his measured breathing on the skin of your face when Aventurine bends down, almost touching his lips to yours and freezes.

— I'll make it easier for you this time, — the blond whispers, letting his warm breath caress the delicate skin of your lips.

— What do you mean?.. — the only thing you managed to say right before Aventurine's lips covered yours.

Long fingers dive into your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back, and he deepens the kiss, insistently making his way with his tongue through your lips, which are not too resisting. A soft moan dissolves in Aventurine's mouth, and your fingers desperately cling to the fabric of the shirt on the man's chest, but still you respond to the kiss, allowing your tongue to stick out a little further, slowly waltzing in tandem with his. The shock was instantly replaced by a mixture of embarrassment and a flutter in his chest. It seemed that this kiss lasted forever, so harmonious, gentle, but passionate, as if you have known each other for so long that Aventurine doesn't need much effort to make you melt in his hands, which you allow to touch your body.

Lips gasp for air as soon as Aventurine pulls away, looking at your flushed, relaxed face, which isn't touched by the former cold indifference with which you looked at him all evening.

It's a strange feeling. From the very beginning, when you saw this man, the only thought that you would never in your life become infatuated with just his presence somewhere nearby was ingrained in your head, now fighting for supremacy with the unwillingness that he would let you go. You shouldn't give in to this.

You gently press on Aventurine's chest, shuddering as soon as you feel his warm skin under your fingertips, noticing that you touched this very seductive neckline.

— Is that all? I have to go… — you say softly, trying to get out of Aventurine's hands, but he's not even going to let go of your waist or your cheek, to which his palm is still pressed.

— Really? Well, then I won't hold you back, — the blond man grins, still continuing to prevent your imaginary escape.

— Then let me go. I gave away your winnings and I don't owe you anything else.

— Yes, you did, — the man whispers, gently stroking your cheek with a thumb in a leather glove.

You look at each other without saying a word and freeze like statues. The muffled sounds of slot machines, clinking glasses and laughter come from the hall outside the door, breaking the silence that hangs between the two of you, but you can't hear anything else except your own rapid heartbeat throbbing in your ears. A strange warmth spreads in your chest, gradually sinking down, and a heavy weakness settles in your legs, which doesn't allow you to move from your place.

«What are you doing, Y/N?», — you ask yourself one last time before you swear unintelligibly under your breath, grabbing Aventurine's shirt in order to involve the man in the kiss again. Greedy, careless, but you needed it. The blonde's palm shamelessly moves to your buttocks, covered with black trousers, gently squeezing the elastic flesh, and your fingers slowly slip under the neckline in the shape of an inverted heart, caressing the heated skin of Aventurine's chest.

— W-wait… — you suddenly break off the kiss, breathing heavily and looking at the purple irises covered with long eyelashes.

— What's is it? I won't complain that the dealer is harassing me if you're worried about it, — Aventurine grins, forcing the expression on your face to change to the old irritation.

— This is wrong. I don't have to…

— I don't care about the rules, — the man tilts his head to one side, smiling playfully. — I'm betting on black.

— What? — you ask discouraged, watching the man's fingers hastily undoing the buttons of your white shirt.

— If I win, now you'll be my prize, — Aventurine winks at you before opening the cotton fabric on your chest, noticing you are wearing a black lace bra. — Tsk-tsk, how unlucky you are today. I won again.

✧ ✧ ✧

The button is a special chip marked "D", transmitted clockwise and identifying the dealer (in this case, the dealer is an employee of the casino, so the button only determines who will bet first).

The early position is the player's place at the poker table, located immediately behind the dealer.

Preflop is the initial stage of the poker game, which includes the distribution of cards and the first bets, including blinds.

A straight is a combination of a sequence of five cards.

A hand is a combination of two cards in the player's hands.

A flash combination of five cards of the same suit.

Royal flush is the strongest combination of cards from 10 to ace of the same suit.

A pair is a combination of two cards of the same value (for example, two aces).

A square is a combination of five cards of the same value (for example, four aces).

The highest card is the card of the highest value of all lying on the table.

In roulette, it is possible to bet on one color, on even and odd numbers, and so on, including you can bet on a specific number, which is quite risky due to the reduced chances that such a bet will play, but the winnings from it are multiplied by 35.

#headcanons #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai:star rail #honkai:star rail x reader #hsr drabbles #aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine smut #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #hsr x you

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delumimi · 9 months

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Trouble Sleeping?

Summary: You are tired of Leon’s snoring.

Gender: Fluff.

Pairing: Death Island Leon x Reader.

A/N: I had to redo this twice ‘cause it got deleted but anyways this is so short i am sorry, I have to clarify that english isn’t my native language so I apologize for any grammar errors, enjoy!

Your marriage with Leon was all you could’ve asked for after so many years of being in love with him, 3 years of dating and now 1 freshly year of marriage, you are so grateful to have someone like Leon as a partner. You respect him and he respects you and there’s no doubt that you two love each other intensely.

However… That doesn’t mean you don’t have problems.

You were currently in your bedroom bed staring deeply at the ceiling stuck in thoughts with a strong frown on your face, sitting up a little you take a look at the clock

2:45 AM.

Leon had an annoying habit at snoring so loud at night, and you understood that he was tired after returning from missions, poor boy never gets to relax at his job but as much as you loved him, you needed to rest tonight.

Sighing, you turn to your side to observe his peaceful state, you almost felt guilty for having to wake him up but he lead you no option.

You raise your hand and place it against his mouth attempting to shut him up for once. To your surprise, Leon stirs a little in his sleep but roughly, he turns to his other side kicking his legs almost throwing you out of the bed. Snoring even louder.

This motherfucker….

Alright, challenge accepted.

You look around trying to find something until an idea crosses your mind.

Smiling wickedly, you take a small pillow and turn to his side again.

You press the pillow on his mouth carefully enough to not suffocate him as you search his face looking for any signs of discomfort but you don’t see any.

The snoring stops but now noises are coming out of his lips thanks to the pillow making pressure on it, making him look like he is beatboxing.

Okay, this was definitely it.

You pat his chest now seriously wanting him to wake up.

“Leon.” You whisper quietly so you don’t scare him as he wakes up.

But… No response.

Sighing you pat his chest harder this time.

“Leon? Wake up.” You tell him again firmly.

Still no response.

“Leon! Wake uuuup.” You start to shake his body roughly this time, getting desperate but he doesn’t react.

What is he? A bear hibernating or something?

You start to get more annoyed, Leon was never a deep sleeper but when he came back exhausted he attempted to be one, and that never irritated you… Well until now.

You are not gonna get away with this Kennedy.

You place yourself at his lap, raising your hand to gently slap him- not enough to hurt but to let him know that you are there.

“Leeeooon.” You repeat the same movements, groaning since he doesn’t wake up. You stare at the clock again.

3:05 AM.

You slap him again harder and he finally reacts, squinting his eyes a little, but just before he talks, you slap him again with such a force that his head turns to his side and you are pretty sure that if it was daytime you will be able to see the red mark on his cheek.

He looks at you so shocked… Like you killed his entire family and burned them in front of him.

“Wha- What was that for?!” He finally speaks after a moment of just looking at each other.

“I don’t know… You tell me.” I talk back at him crossing your arms in your chest.

He stays silent rubbing his eyes looking at you.

“Good morning to you too.”

“It’s 3AM Leon.” You said rolling your eyes.

“Then why would wake me up? Did something happen?” He asks confused and a little concerned looking at you still shocked about the slap thing.

“Nothing happened Leon…” You reassured him. “But did you ever realized you snore a lot?”

“Snore?” He looks at his side and then at you. “I don’t snore.”

“Yes. Yes you do, and loud.” You remark the final part. “You even woke me up, I had to slap you.”

“Okay” He paused. “I am sorry love but you didn’t had to slap me.” He rubs his cheek looking at you a little offended.

“Oh believe me. I had to.” You give him a final look before laying down on the bed, your back facing him. Sighing contently you embrace your pillow. Closing your eyes feeling the sleepiness kick in.

Finally, some peaceful sleep.

“I don’t snore loud.” You heard Leon, interrupting your peaceful state.

“Whatever you say.”

…..

“Did I seriously wake you up?” He said with a softer tone this time.

Some shuffling was heard until you feel some strong arms embracing you from behind. Pressing kisses on you neck as a way to say sorry.

“Forgive me?” He whispers.

“I will think about it…”

“I can make it up to you if that’s what you want.” He says and you feel his hands under your blouse lifting it up.

“Go to sleep Leon.” You stop his wrists from going further.

“But-“

“No way you are trying to get me to do funny stuff at 3 in the morning.” You scoffed at him.

“Is it working?”

“No.”

You heard him laugh from behind and can’t help the smile that starts forming at your lips. You turn and press a delicate kiss on his lips.

“There. You are forgiven now let me sleep in peace.” You rest your head on his chest feeling to his heartbeat, somehow it calmed you down on your rougher moments- just listening to it made you feel so safe.

“Alright m’lady.” He presses a kiss on your head pulling even closer even if that was impossible.

Surely it will be a long morning, not having your enough hours of rest always affected you but seeing Leon’s face when you slapped him, you know is worth it.

Smiling you drift off to sleep.

Or that’s what you thought.

Snores.

…….

Whatever, you weren’t even planing to have a good sleep anyway.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #capcom #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #resident evil x you #leon kennedy x you #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy fanfic

798 notes · View notes

sunshyni · 3 months

Text

big boy energy

Jisung × Fem!reader

notes: this is my first text in English, so I'm feeling nervous 😬 English is not my native language, so forgive me for any errors or mistakes like that!! And that's it!! I hope you enjoy it!!

w.c: 0,7k

tw: none

I don't even know if this is good. I write more to see how my English vocabulary is doing, but anyway!!

Good read, sweeties!! ❤️

Your older brother's getting married in a few months, and dance lessons were scheduled for the couple and the godparents to avoid any embarrassment on the big day. Right now, you have no clue who your dance partner will be because your brother keeps saying, “Her right dance partner will show up any minute”.

You're chilling in a chair, adjusting your high heels for dancing, when you hear a noise from the salon door, and your eyes immediately snap in that direction.

— Hey guys, am I late? Sorry, my flight was delayed — Says the guy standing by the door. Jisung looks taller and stronger than the last time you saw him, but he still has that same sparkle in his eyes from when you were kids. Jisung, just two years older than you, used to mess with your braids all the time.

It was tough when he left town to study and work in Korea, his country of origin. You couldn't help but miss him, even though it seemed like he didn't give a damn about leaving you behind.

You kinda resented him for that because you've always had a thing for him, but he either didn't notice or didn't feel the same. I mean, you used to like him, but now that you see him another time, your heart can't help but race.

— Jisungie! You're not tired, are you? — Your brother asks. Jisung, dressed all black, looks even hotter than usual — I've got a mission for you.

— I'm good, let's do it — Jisung says, meeting your gaze with a nostalgic sweetness. You finally stand up, and thankfully, you don't trip and fall flat on your face.

— You'll be dancing with my sister, okay? — Your brother practically pushes Jisung in your direction. Jisung smiles at you, and all you can do is cross your arms and scowl.

— I hate you both — You mutter to Jisung and your brother as he heads back to his fiancée, sticking his tongue out at you in a teasing way. The dance teacher starts the class, and you even have the chance to complain to Jisung. He holds you tighter, causing you some agitation, but all you can focus on is trying to breathe normally while his face is so close to yours.

— Did you miss me, shawty? — He asks, leading the dance with skill, not like the same boy from years ago who learned to salsa from “Shall We Dance?” while you were sighing over the charmer Richard Gere.

— I'm not giving you the answer you want, Andy Park — You say, and Jisung chuckles softly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, but you brush them off, wrapping your arms around his neck like they were made to be there.

— I prefer when you call me Jisungie, babe.

— I preferred it when you didn't leave me alone, babe — You retort, stepping on his feet. Jisung lets out a low groan but still holds you close, dancing like there's no one else in the room.

— I'm sorry for letting you down all this time. I'm an asshole, it's true — Jisung admits, acknowledging all the times you two didn't talk when you really wanted to, even if it was just to argue, something you did a lot as kids — Can we make peace, pretty please? Go back to the way things used to be?

You hesitate for a moment before letting a small smile slip.

— Like the old times, huh?

— But this time, I really wanna kiss you — Jisung whispers in your ear, and your heart feels like it's about to leap out of your chest. You feel his cheek against yours, and if you don't answer him soon, you might just pass out.

— Andy...

— Keep calling me like that, and I'll kiss you right here, not giving a fuck about your brother and my best friend — He says, planting a soft kiss on your cheek, leaving you dizzy with his scent filling the room, making it hard to breathe. You muster up the courage to speak, looking into his eyes.

— When did you get this big boy energy?

— I don't know, but you better enjoy it, cutie.

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tfyoulookingatgiuxs · 6 months

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Hello!

Could you possibly do a cute opposites attract for Billy Hargrove? Not like a nerd reader, more like a flower child in a way. I think the idea would be very cute and funny.

I hope you have a great day!

•Interesting. I've never written something like this but I'm determined to be happy to try. In any case, I am ready to satisfy your request again. I want to point out how the word "flower child" stuck in my mind, making the reader a true flower child, in the literary sense. I hope you like it!

Sunflower

Billy Hargrove x FlowerChild!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: The late warm spring afternoon in Hawkins looked spectacular. The flowers were blooming and the sweet breeze touched you making you feel like you were in a fairy tale. But the day had other plans in mind for you and you never thought you would find him.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Fluff, slight angst? fem!reader, no use of Y/N, your surname is Williams, bad language, opposite attract, sigarettes, daddy issue.

𝐀/𝐍: Request from @unamused-boss ,I hope I have satisfied your request! I apologize for any errors and I also hope that I have exceeded your expectations. Sorry for my english this is not my native language. Please support and reblog! Hope you enjoy this one. (DIVIDER NOT MINE)

It was a late afternoon in Hawkins. Spring had just begun and the flowers had just bloomed, coloring an isolated part of the forest forgotten by everyone. It was like an enchanted place, you had to go through the woods to get there but you didn't mind walking a bit. It felt like a real paradise, it was like your secret place. No one could get there, only you knew how to get in and you knew how to get out.

Every day after school you go there. School could be hard and going there among the greenery and flowers made you happy and let your emotions shine through.

The flowers that surrounded you were all sunflowers, a truly infinite field, with the presence of a few daisies.

You had always been a girl with elegant feminine tastes, high grades but also a strong and difficult character. Nothing could make you happier than nature and flowers in general. You had a nice green thumb, you knew how to grow and plant. This is due to the fact that your uncle worked for a long time in the countryside and when you went to visit him for the holidays there was always something new to learn.

Today you headed there once again, full of happiness. The sun warmed you as you walked through the green tall grass. You sat down, letting the fresh air and surrounding sounds carry you away. The wind, the birds singing..."Holy shit!" you heard in the distance. You reopened your eyes in confusion and saw something you never expected to see. Someone had managed to get to your secret place. The worst thing? It was Billy Hargrove.

Billy Hargrove was a boy who went to the same school as you, he was lazy, didn't work hard at school and only thought about having fun and going to parties drinking like crazy. Besides this, he was also a very attractive boy, with long blond curls and crystal blue eyes and a nice physique. In short, aesthetically he was very handsome, you couldn't deny it, but otherwise he wasn't really your type, he was your opposite, you couldn't hope to get along with him.

You hadn't spoken to him much, you had only tutored him last year to help him with his grades. Needless to say, he tried to persuade you by convincing you to do his homework but luckily you were smarter than him. Now he had improved, but it was clear that he didn't want to study or think about his future.

From the way he was fidgeting you could tell he got lost "Hey!" He screamed as soon as he saw you, most likely he didn't recognize you. You stood up from where you were sitting as the skirt of your white dress fluttered. Billy looked at your figure, you were more enchanting than ever and perhaps he had never noticed it until now. You got closer and Billy did the same thing. "Look who's here, Williams." he said sarcastically "Nice to see you Hargorve" you also added a note of sarcasm but still keeping a certain lightness in your words "You can call me Billy" he winked at you and you rolled your eyes.

To be clear. You don't hate him. You know he was teasing you and obviously you didn't get carried away by his games. He was just different and as much as you might hope for redemption from him, you had to accept the fact that Billy Hargorve was the same old bad boy who will never change, and that everything good he had is gone.

"Did you get lost by any chance?" You asked looking at the field and he took a cigarette out of his pocket and you ignored him "What do you say? Do you think I'm a guy who loves remote places?" He looked at you with an obvious look as he lit his cigarette. The nauseating smell of tobacco pervaded you while with one hand you tried to get rid of the bad smell "No, but apparently you love the woods. In short, to come here you have to go through the woods, so excuse me if I ask you, but what do were you doing there?" Billy didn't answer you for a moment, he could have said "it's none of your business" or "Don't mind any fucking business that doesn't concern you Williams" in a more vulgar way, but he didn't. Even though he could be harsh, he wasn't that bad after all and it wasn't appropriate to use such forced language in front of a damsel.

"I was... walking" he didn't add anything else while his curls fluttered a little from here to there. From his tone you felt like he wanted to tell you something, but he decided not to. Maybe he had a rough day? Or maybe he's just in a bad mood? You've started to speculate. Although curious about what that walk meant, you decided not to say anything else and responded with a simple "Okay" and then silence fell.

"And you? Why are you here? Is the little damsel lost too?" You crossed your arms at his typical womanizer nickname "Oh no. I'm not lost. I come here often" He raised an eyebrow as he blew smoke from his plump lips "Why? What's great about being here looking at nothing?" You laughed slightly "You can't look at anything! Being here relaxes me and helps me to... detach myself from reality" you said the last words with a sense of sadness.

Life could be really mean and even cruel, and the worst thing is when you have no one to ask for help. When you think that nothing can help you get up and move forward, but in the end you understand that even something abstract or something concrete like an object, or anything that is not human can help you in your difficulties. Yours was nature, this secret place of yours that you wished you had discovered sooner. Few perhaps couldn't understand what you find so beautiful in plants or landscapes, and honestly not even you could explain it. Billy, on the other hand, remained silent and looked at you and then threw his cigarette on the ground and crushed it with his foot "Nonsense, you can't detach yourself from reality" his tone was serious and you looked at his features, he was angry? No. He was injured.

"As much as you try, reality is always there, you can't ignore it, much less detach yourself from it..." he continued and then he met your eyes and let out a cough "...so, Here. I find it difficult to understand what you find here Williams, maybe you're strange" he finished the sentence as if nothing had happened, as if what he had said before didn't matter. You approached him and Billy looked at you carefully "Can't you? Or maybe you don't want to?" Hargrove looked at you as if shocked "From the way you speak it's as if you want to detach yourself from reality, but you decide not to, is it perhaps because you're more worried about what happens in reality? As if every little distraction could cause something bad than not can you ignore it?" At that moment, a face never known to you formed on the face of the boy with golden curls, a different Billy you had never seen before. It was like vulnerable...

“I'm sorry, maybe this makes you uncomfortable.” You panicked. You hadn't even realized your words let alone that maybe it might make Billy uncomfortable in some way. You tried to compose yourself and walked away, changing the subject "Now I can take you back out of the woods, I know the way to-"

“My father” you were interrupted by his voice which now seemed to have taken on a different tone “What?”

"My father i can't ignore." You didn't say anything, letting him continue "I always tried to think about other things, maybe focusing on going out for parties or going to basketball games. But when I did that, my father made my life even worse, making it total shit" the wind blew was lowered and Billy in the meantime leaned with his back on a nearby tree "You're right when you say that 'I would like to detach myself from reality but I can't' because I realized that I can't do it..." his words were so genuine, so sincere, but at the same time so suffering. It was as if the Billy you knew wasn't there. They weren't his words, yet they came out of his mouth.

Instinctively you placed your light hand on his forearm and he looked back into your eyes "It's never too late to try again Billy. Don't let just one person ruin you, because then you'll end up regretting it" you replied and then you smiled. He wasn't convinced, but you were willing to let him know. You gently grabbed his hand and he let you do it, as if he was enchanted by your touch "Come with me" you said and together you walked through what was the field of sunflowers.

"You know, the first time I ended up here I thought how the day couldn't get any worse. I was lost too. But I don't think I found a better place to be" the blue-eyed boy looked around and he was like carefree "Here you don't have to fear anything, here you are safe and not even your father can hurt you" you reassured him and your hands melted. Hargrove continued to remain silent and then sat up enjoying the wind caressing his face and simply nodded.

"Can I tell you something Williams?" You nodded "Sure" he got up and took a sunflower and cut off the stem. You felt bad when the flowers were pulled down but you decided not to say anything. He looked at it carefully and then glanced at you "You like flowers right?" You nodded again "So much" Billy continued to stare at you and then with his free hand he placed a lock of your hair behind your ear, placing the flower in the same place "Then you will know what the sunflower means" your cheeks turned red admiring Billy's face with enchantment "I'll give it to you, it suits you" your heart stopped beating for a moment when the boy with golden curls smiled at you and then walked away.

You watched his figure. The sunflower symbolized the sun, therefore the light of life. When you gave a sunflower to a person it was to tell them how sunny and cheerful they are. You didn't think Billy was capable of such a gesture or even that he knew the meaning of the flower. Apparently you didn't know Billy Hargrove for all intents and purposes.

What was it you said? "As much as you could hope for redemption from him, did you have to accept the fact that Billy Hargorve was the usual bad boy who will never change, and that everything good he had was lost?" It turns out you were very wrong.

"So, will you help me out of the woods or not?" He turned around noticing that you weren't following him "Yes" You shook your head coming back to earth "You must not tell anyone what I told you, I would like it to stay between us, clear Williams?" You nodded, laughing.

From that day on you began to see Billy Hargrove with different eyes.

#stranger things #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove fluff #stranger things billy #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #flowers #flower child #fem!reader

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scribbledghost · 3 months

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Hi, English is not my native language, so I use a translator. Therefore, grammatical errors may be present here.人´∀｀)I would like to request from you a hedcanon or something more real (at your discretion) Yautja with a female human partner (let them be in a relationship for a long time), for example, at some point he finds out that she is 60% human and 40% Xenomorph.. How will he react? (I'm sorry if this sounds too weird) (I wish she was one of the good hunters in the tribe (´∀｀•))

Oh this is fascinating, I love it! I'm not sure what your native language is, so I hope these translate well for you!

It was purely by accident that you and your Yautja discovered you had Xenomorph DNA.

You had joined him on a hunt, one of many that the two of you had partaken in together.

You worked well together - a wildly successful pair benefitting the entire clan.

However, even the best can make mistakes.

A severe injury had sent the two of you back to Yautja Prime, back to more experienced healers and more qualified technology to help you recover.

As you laid in one of the healing pods, however, the Yautja in charge of your medical state noticed something... alarming.

You were not fully human.

Your mate entered the medbay later to find you quarantined, and was immediately furious. You were alert and talking, so why were you being held prisoner?

The healer then tried to explain to your mate that they discovered you had an "abnormal amount of kainde amedha DNA". To the point where you were only about 60% human.

At first, your mate refused to believe what they were saying. Surely their technology malfunctioned. Surely they were wrong.

He argued for your release to anyone who crossed his path - healers, clan leaders, it didn't matter. You were his mate, and you were human. Anything - or anyone - that said otherwise was lying.

You were still kept prisoner, essentially. As if they were waiting for you to turn against them at any moment.

Once you were tentatively released under the close supervision of your mate, he started working on his own feelings on the matter.

He had come to accept that you were part Xenomorph - the things his species had a seemingly eternal rivalry with. He had come to accept that part of you belonged to the species of creature the Yautja are constantly at war with.

But... you still looked, acted, and sounded human. You're still his mate, still the warrior he fought side-by-side with.

He wrestles with the idea for some time. His wants to protect you, to care for you, to love you. To do anything else goes against his very instincts

You were a skilled hunter, but you had never tried to harm him (or any other Yautja, for that matter).

So... he comes to terms with your spliced DNA. In fact, he tries to convince other Yautja that it's a benefit. Perhaps you are better at hunting kainde amedha because you are partially one yourself.

Either way, your mate is your mate. He is with you no matter what. He will not leave you, and he intends to keep it that way.

#yautja #yautja x reader #predator #predator x reader #ghost scribbles

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cozage · 10 months

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Aaaaa, Cozage, I'm thrilled with your post about "Panic Attacks"! I fucking love it when people take care of me or show attention to me, so for me it's just wonderful. But at the same time, I like to help people myself. So, if it's not too much trouble, could you write about how the reader calms Sanji, Zoro, Ace and Lo when they have a panic attack? We can say: the opposite of what was written earlier) Have a nice day ❤

Sorry for my English, it's not my native language 😔

Friend!!! This was such a fabulous idea!! Our boys deserve love :) And I must say, your profile pic?!?! DELIGHTFUL! I’m such a big fan of Chuuya :) he’s one of my favs in BSD <3

Characters: gn reader x Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, Law CW: panic attack descriptions, Marineford Spoilers Wordcount:1.4k

Helping Them Through Panic Attacks

Sanji

Sanji is a big scent guy, so certain smells trigger him. Iron and rust are the big ones, but sometimes the salty breeze blows just the right way and reminds him of when he almost starved to death on that rock. Sometimes he just disassociates, sometimes he goes into a full blown panic attack.

Sanji needs to be grounded during panic attacks or dissociative episodes. Talking doesn’t do much for him, he needs to feel people next to him to be brought back to the moment.

When you're in public and you feel him slipping away, you grab his hand and interlace his fingers with your own. Occasionally he needs a little squeeze of reassurance to bring him back.

Sometimes you’ll put your hand on his knee or his arm. You try not to do anything surprising, just little gentle touches to remind him where he is, and that you’re close by.

When he gets a panic attack, you’ve found the best thing to do is get as close to him as possible. Just as a scent triggered him, your scent brings him back to the present.

Sometimes you have to cup his face in your hands and force his eyes to look at you. You’re one of the few people who can do this when he's in such a panicked state. If other people try, he usually fights back. Even Nami and Robin can’t help him.

His eyes are so full of fear, but you only show him your adoration and love in return. That’s all you want him to see in those moments.

As he calms down, he likes to rest his head against your chest and listen to your heart beat as you stroke his hair. Most of the time he falls asleep, and you always let him lay there as long as he needs.

Zoro

There’s nothing particular that really sets him off. Sometimes it’s a smell from his past, sometimes it's this weird deja vu that he can’t place. Sometimes he’s just thinking about how to be better and he starts to spiral. There’s not really any specific thing, it’s usually a lot of little things.

Zoro is a prideful bastard. He doesn’t like people knowing that he’s suffering. So it took you a few episodes to realize what was happening with him.

When you see him starting to panic, you’ll ask him to follow you to a private, quiet room. At first he was skeptical of your methods, but after a few times, he started seeking you out and letting you lead you to a room to help.

You try not to touch him much or talk to him during it, but the two of you have created a pretty good method over a few trials and errors. You place your hand on his chest, and he places his hand on your chest. He feels your heart beat, feels your chest fall and rise, and he focuses on those movements. He shuts off his brain and brings his attention to matching your rhythm.

When he finally matches your heart rate and breathing pattern, he mutters out a quiet “thanks” and returns to whatever he was doing. The first time it hurt your feelings, but Zoro doesn’t like to mull over the fact he needs help.

After a few hours (usually that night, when you are in bed), you’ll ask him if he’s okay or wants to talk. Most of the time he says he’s fine, but sometimes he’ll talk about what was bothering him. But every time he’ll pull you in closer to him and thank you with a little kiss on the forehead.

Luffy

Blood had never bothered Luffy before, so he didn’t understand why his ears started to ring whenever he saw it after Marineford. He didn’t understand why holes in things like trees or concrete structures bothered him so much now. He didn’t understand why he wanted to vomit when he saw an orange hat or a large back tattoo.

Most of the time, you’re able to, quite literally, snap him out of it. Snapping your fingers in front of his face is usually enough to have him step back from the edge of a panic attack, but you also go a bit further by redirecting him to focus on something else. Food, some cool attraction on an island, or a game you know he likes to play.

If you don’t get him in those first few moments, though, his chest becomes tight and he feels like he can’t get enough air into his lungs. He wants to scream out, but his voice is gone too. So he’s left clutching his chest and gasping for air. He doesn’t have enough energy to find you at this point, so he lays into a ball and curls up into a ball and waits for someone to find him.

When you find him or another crewmember directs you to him, you keep your voice low and calm, as if you were talking to an injured animal. You always start the same way: “Luffy, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

You pull his head into your lap and you’ll run your finger through his hair to brush it out, and then start braiding little pieces.

You tell him stories of your life in a soft, even voice. If you can’t think of stories, you make them up. You ignore the tears falling from his eyes and the soft sobs that escape his lips.

Eventually, he falls asleep. But you don’t move. You keep twirling his hair in your fingers, waiting for him to wake up. After a very short nap, he wakes up a new person. He gives you a big kiss and bounds off, his energetic self returning like nothing ever happened.

Law

You didn’t understand why Shachi’s prank made Law so scared. It was just a harmless joke. Shachi had spent hours taping up hundreds of pieces of string all across the common room so people would have to jump over, duck under, and crawl around to get through it all. But when Law had turned the corner and saw you all sitting in the mess of string, you only saw one emotion in his eyes: Fear.

After that you started to notice it more. Whenever he walked into spider webs unexpectedly, or saw those fun feathery boa necklaces at festivals, or heard the sound of a gunshot, panic set into his eyes.

“Everything okay?” you’d ask every time, but he’d always give you one quick nod in response. You started taking that as your cue to intervene.

Law hates making a big deal about things. So when you’re in public, you subtly grab his hand. It’s one of the few times he doesn’t mind PDA, and he grips your hand so tight you have to clench your teeth. But you never complain.

When you can finally get away from others, you’ll take him somewhere quiet and sit on the ground with him. You keep holding his hand, and use your free hand to trace over his tattooed fingers.

You always ask him questions about his crew, trying to redirect his brain. “What do you think Bepo is doing right now?” “How did you meet Shachi?” “Remember last week when Penguin and Ikkaku almost caught the kitchen on fire?” He doesn’t usually respond, but you always say what you think the answer is. You’re not sure if it helps, but after a while his grip starts to loosen on your hand.

Law is a silent sufferer. He doesn’t have many indications when his panic attacks start, or when they end. So you sit with him, answering your own questions until he finally takes a deep breath and says “Okay, I’m ready to go back.” He keeps holding your hand though, for as long as he can.

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nicorobinmywife · 1 year

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hello! I don't know if you are taking requests but if you are could you do the one with s/o shy taking a shower with doffy but with mihawk and shanks (separately) please (feel free to reject)

Mihawk and Shanks taking a bath with their shy boyfriend. (Male Reader.)

Summary: your boyfriend takes you to bathe with him but you are ashamed of your body.

Characters: Mihawk and Shanks.

Mihawk

you were shocked when Mihawk invited you to bathe with him.

you and Mihawk started a relationship a few months ago and you knew that at one time or another he would try to have more intimate moments with you.

you walked into the bathroom and tried not to pass out seeing Mihawk naked and relaxing in the water.

he had his eyes closed so you quickly took off your clothes and entered the water and hugged your knees to cover your body.

of course Mihawk would sense your discomfort.

- "Is there something bothering you, mi amor?" - he raises an eyebrow and you hugged your knees tighter and lowered your gaze.

- "I... I didn't want you to see me like this..." - you whisper to him and Mihawk noticed the scars on your body.

you are a swordsman just like him but the battle scars still make you insecure about your body.

- "I don't see any imperfections in you." - he swam closer to you and moves his arms around your waist.

you hug Mihawk feeling his pale skin and his warm body, your legs wrap around his waist and you bury your face into his neck, inhaling his scent.

- "just relax, i'll show you how much your body is the most blessed thing in the world, I'm your man and I want you to feel safe with me, mi príncipe." - he whispers in your ear and you close your eyes, ready to trust your body to the man you love more than anything.

Shanks

you were peacefully bathing and relaxing after a tiring day.

you almost jumped when Shanks barged into the bathroom completely naked and stepped into the tub smiling at you.

- "privacy means nothing to you Shanks?!" - you quickly hugged your knees to hide your body.

- "are you saying I can't take a bath with my handsome boyfriend?" - he smirks and sighs feeling the warm water relax his body.

you preferred not to argue and stayed a few minutes in silence, only the sound of the water could be heard.

- "you can admire my body but don't let me see yours, don't you think this game is a little... unfair to me, pretty boy?" - shanks raises an eyebrow and you blush as you are caught admiring the redhead's hot body.

- "I'm sorry Shanks..." - you try not to look sad but your boyfriend knows you too well.

- "how many times must i tell you that you are the most beautiful thing in the world? your body is so perfect, i am so fucking lucky to have you all to myself in this bathtub." - he uses his only arm to pull you closer to him.

- "Shanks... stop! oh my god you're going to kill me like this!" - you laugh as your boyfriend distributes kisses all over your body.

- "so beautiful like this, and just for me! my greatest treasure." - Shanks worships every inch of you, feeling like the luckiest man for having someone like you on his side.

-----

english is not my native language so please be patient with any grammatical errors 😭😭

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece x male reader #one piece x y/n #mihawk x male reader #mihawk x y/n #mihawk x you #mihawk headcanons #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #shanks x male reader #shanks headcanons #shanks x reader #red hair shanks #shanks #shanks x mihawk

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lostfirefly · 1 month

Text

Make my coffee sweet and warm, just the way you used to lie in my arms

The idea for this fic came to me when I was sitting in a coffee shop and saw a barista with purple hair. Pain continues leading me to art :) English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Buggy and Fem.Reader - Masterlist is here.

Description: You were sitting in a coffee shop for work. The barista was Buggy.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI (sorry not sorry).

Words: 1791

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots

The title is taken from “One Cup of Coffee” by Bob Marley.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“This latte is disgusting!” You were sitting in the coffee shop with your friend.

“It could be worse, Y/N.” Your friend said, sipping her espresso.

“Oh, yeah. This’s not coffee, this's some kind of slop.” You opened your laptop and took out a notebook. “So, what do we have with the exhibition. Look, I received some corrections from Mr. Thompson he said Mr. Monkey D. Luffy wants this exposure to stand here in the corner, and this one should be moved here. Do you remember how hysterical he threw the last time that his new exposure was not seen? I can't stand another evening like this.” You added more sugar to the cup. “No, it's impossible to drink. Wait for me, I'll be right there.”

You slammed your palms on the table and went to the counter. There was no one behind it.

“Hey, who's making coffee here? Hey?” You knocked on the table.

"Why are you yelling, sweet cake?!” A tall man with a red nose, blue hair and makeup on his face came swaying from the kitchen. “I have a terrible hangover. What do you want?”

“At least that explains why we drink disgusting coffee in the morning.” You looked at him, crossing your arms. “Do you even know how to brew it? Or did you take makeup lessons instead of barista courses? Sorry, but your crossed bones on your face and smeared lipstick look much better than the crap you served us in these cups.”

“Fuck it. Do you have anything substantive to say? I was actually sleeping.” The man scratched his head and poured himself some coffee from the coffee pot. “It's a good coffee. So, do you have any other complaints?” He leaned his elbows on the counter.

You growled, slammed your palm on the table again and went to your table.

You sat with your friend, discussing the exhibition, when she suddenly received a message.

“Damn, Y/N. This is Thompson. He says there is an urgent order, a certain Mr. Jinbe will be exhibiting in the central gallery. I’ll leave for a couple of hours and come back.”

Your friend packed her things, grabbed her laptop and quickly ran away. The only people left in the coffee shop were you, the clown barista and a couple of customers who came in to take their coffee to go. You carefully watched the barista, who dropped every single item he grabbed in his hands, cursed under his breath and did not behave very kindly with visitors.

The clown made two lavender rafs, practically threw the cups on the counter, took the money, and swore again as the customers left. He muttered something under his breath and headed towards the front door. You watched him out of the corner of your eye.

“What are you doing?” You asked, watching him change the sign on the door to “closed.”

“I’m closing the coffee shop, can’t you see it?” He muttered.

“It's only 8 am.” You answered, looking at your watch.

��So what? I’m already tired. Why can’t they drink coffee at home?” The clown walked along the counter, turned behind it, and took out a bottle of whiskey.

“Great. The clown locked me in a coffee shop at 8 am, and he is already drinking whiskey.” You smiled and started typing. “Make me more of your disgusting coffee, since I'm stuck with you.”

He growled in response, rolled his eyes, quickly took a sip of whiskey and began making coffee. At that moment you received a call.

“What do you mean you won't come back?” You asked in surprise. “Damn. Call me when you're done.” You threw the phone on the table. “Crap.”

“Bad morning?” The clown asked, pouring coffee into your mug.

“Not your business!” You barked.

“Easy, sweet cake! Your coffee.” He came over and set you coffee and a plate of eclair.

“I didn't order this.” You pointed at the eclair.

“At my expense. To smooth out your morning.”

“Oh. Thank you.” You pushed the plate towards you.

He sat down opposite you and took a sip from the bottle. “What are you doing?” He asked, putting his foot on the table.

You raised an eyebrow. “Working.”

“I understand that. I mean, what do you do for a living?”

“Ah, I’m an exhibition coordinator.” You took a sip of your coffee and cleared your throat, “Oh my god. Did you put whiskey in my coffee?”

“Now it's more fun, right?” He laughed.

“You're an idiot?” You wiped your mouth with your palm.

“Oh, don't be so boring. What's your name, by the way?”

“What? Shit! Y/N. And your name? The man who pours whiskey into his coffee.” You chuckled.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Buggy!” He held out the bottle to you. You looked at him for a few seconds, then took the mug in your hand and lightly clinked it against the neck of the bottle.

You took a sip of your coffee and took a bite of your eclair. “No, the coffee is disgusting. And with whiskey it got even worse.”

Buggy took your mug, poured the coffee into the nearby flowers and poured you some whiskey.

“I can’t drink. I’m working, Buggy!” You looked at him for a while, then pushed the glass closer and took a sip of the whiskey.

“Have a wonderful day at work, baby!” He raised his glass and winked.

He took a sip of whiskey, loudly put the glass on the table, and walked out the door into the kitchen. You were calmly typing the text when you heard a crash from the other room.

“Hey, you. Buggy. Are you alive?”

There was no answer.

You took another sip of whiskey and stared at the door. You took another drink, then got up from your seat and went to the kitchen.

You carefully looked behind the door. “Is there anyone? Are you alive? I heard a noise.” The sound of swearing reached you. You walked towards Buggy and saw him with a burnt hand.

“What happened?” You asked, approaching him.

“I took out fucking trays with fucking croissants.”

“Do you have a first aid kit?” You asked, looking at his hand.

Buggy glanced at the box. You took out your bag of medicine and took his hand.

“What are you doing?” He asked in surprise.

“I’m treating your hand, idiot. Who goes into the oven without gloves.”

“Don't touch me!” Buggy tried to pull his hand back, but you held it tightly.

“No way. I'm stuck here with you, and I can't let the only person with the key lose his arm because of stupid croissants.”

Buggy looked at you with his green eyes, not understanding why you were showing concern. You wrapped his hand in a bandage and gently ran your fingers over his palm.

“There you go. Just like new, huh?” You smiled and didn’t even realize how you ran your hand through his blue hair. Buggy kept his eyes on you and suddenly took your hand. You ran your fingers over his cheek and chin and didn’t realize how you pressed your lips into his.

Buggy abruptly wrapped his arms around you, turned you around and sat you on the table.

You took off his shirt and began to unbutton his pants as he ran his lips down your neck.

“Fuck, I've never done anything like that.” You whispered, taking off your t-shirt.

“Me too, sweet cake.” Buggy said between kisses.

“It's your fucking whiskey.” You ran your hands over his biceps.

“Maybe,” Buggy said, taking off his underwear and pants.

“I'll give you a bill for ruining my morning.” You said, pressing your lips against his. You felt his tongue slide between your lips. You moaned through the kiss.

“Oh, Y/N, I’ll pay you right now.” Buggy took off your skirt and underwear. You wrapped your arms and legs around him as you felt him enter you sharply in your aching cunt.

“Fuck!!” Your skin heated up, the burning sensation flared up.

Buggy’s lips captured yours greedily. The spark that lighted up you inside made your hips grind and reached up to run your fingers through his long hair. His gripped on your wrist and thigh tightens, pressing your thigh against his as he growls, leaking desire and sex.

“Oh, shit. So good!” You felt his teeth nipping your lips, his hand squeezed your ass and the other touched your nipples.

Buggy gripped your ass tightly, putting cock deeper in your cunt. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re amazing.”

“Don’t stop, please!” You whispered.

The kitchen table shook from the force of him, bowls and utensils fell off the table. You threw your head back, and Buggy used the opportunity to mark your shoulders with his lipstick traces, growling, grunting, hearing your moans.

“So good, Buggy. Just fuck me.” Your hands hooked against his back. That was all new. New sensations from the way a strange clown barista fucks you.

As you clung to him and move closer to him, you moaned against his lips as his pace quickens.

“You like that, Y/N?” He thrusts wildly, your name moaning on his lips as his arms tighten around you. Cunt tight around his cock as he hammered against your cervix, he loved the feeling of you.

“Fuck, Buggy!” You moaned his name loudly, your eyes rolled, it was hard for you to focus on anything else, only on his cock fucking you senseless.

Your legs trembling as they tighten around his waist, your body shaking against him, nails digging hard. Your cunt clenches around Buggy's cock, feeling every curve, every vein as he fucks you harder, when you are arching your back. His lips on your neck, growling loudly and grunting with every thrust.

“Scream for me, my sweet cake.” Buggy whispered in your ear.

And you cried out, the pleasure still comes as he fucked you. Ecstasy flew through your veins, each touch scalding you. His cock insulted your insides and your body shook and convulsed, completely overwhelmed by his power.

Buggy kissed your cheek, sighing, grunting, growling, praising your body with every hammering thrust. His hips moved faster, stuttering, your body almost completely limp in his arms except for yours still tightly gripping his shoulders and clawing.

Buggy’s thrusts became harsh, his hands squeezed your body tightly, his breathing became ragged and raspy between moans. His rough breaths, rumbling moans as he threw his head back, when he came.

Both panting against each other, pressing themselves against each other, Buggy pressed his cheek against yours, inhaling deeply to take in your scent.

“The sex was amazing, Buggy. But the coffee is still crap.” You said and kissed him on the lips.

#one piece #buggy the clown #buggy live action #one piece live action #buggy one piece #opla buggy the clown #buggy fanfiction #buggy fic #opla buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #buggy x female reader #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy x reader #buggy smut

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aulescev · 5 months

Text

Prisoner König x Nurse Reader

Soooo, I made a fanfiction where Monster!König is a prisoner, while the reader is a nurse at a maximum security prison. I'm so excited to share it with everyone, but also kinda anxious because I never really had someone read my works, let alone post a fanfiction I made (っ ̩̆╭╮ ̩̆)っ Anyway, here it is! Hope my writing will find a place in your heart somehow!

The Confinement, To you, the nurse who loves overstepping her boundaries, be careful and take this warning seriously, or else, the monster that lives under a man’s skin might devour you whole.

Nurse Reader x Prisoner König, hate to love trope.

!! Warning, this story contains: Dub-con/Non-con, Gore descriptions, Death, Poisoning, Manipulation, Obsession, Suicide, Possessive and Controlling tendencies, and Immorality. Heavily NSFW, minors DO NOT interact. Do inform me if I missed any.

!! Proceed at your own discretion

Disclaimer: I only have basic knowledge about prison, and what prison nurses are assigned to do inside its secured walls. The same thing goes for prisoners. Consider this a fictional work based in an alternative universe, only with the same countries, and stuff but with monsters + altered laws and rights to fit the story. So take this as it is, or shoo away. You can give me a few tips so I can take note of them, but please, be kind (｡ •́‿•̀｡ ) This is my first fan fiction, and story so yeah, expect a lot of errors + English isn’t my native language + I don’t speak German and only used a translator for this, so sorry in advance for the migraines my writing could cause you.

Chapter 01: The monster that lives under a killer’s skin.

Word Count: 3.9k

∆. 12:04:55PM of November 24, m. hallway of the prison.

You're a nurse at a maximum-security prison. Providing care for both the staff and prisoners, a right everyone equally has so even if you don't like the idea of aiding murderers, and people of such backgrounds, due to some reason, this is the only job opportunity you can take as of the moment.

Today's actually your first day, so naturally, you're shown around the workplace you now have to get yourself accustomed to.

"Most importantly, don't trust anyone other than the staff. These men are filthy, better not get your hands dirty, know what I mean?" Sir Wagner stated, the disgust in his tone is evident and it's enough to let you know how much he despises the criminals behind the bars of his prison.

Even though you would like to agree with the statement of the prison's head, you can't find it in you to despise the people in the prison as much as he does. You're a little too soft sometimes, and also of contradicting nature that makes you automatically take the opposite side of any argument even when it gains you nothing.

Sensing you won't reply— honestly, he doesn't really care if you'll reply or what, since he just wants to get this over with— the warden decided to conclude that conversation there.

"Do you have any questions?" He asked, a plain tone now as he speak, putting his hands deep inside his pocket.

"None, thank you for showing me around."

You replied in an equally plain tone, also wanting to get over it already like he does. He didn't take it personally, his years as the warden made him professional and collected most of the times. Plus, he understood your unenthusiastic nature at your new job, no one after all would be that happy to work in a prison where they keep high profile criminals.

"Well, that's great then. I'll have Benedikt here assist you while you get accustomed with your new work. Ask him when you need help, and if you have any questions." With a brief glance over to the man on his right, sir Wagner introduced the other guy that unnoticeably joined your group of two along the way.

Benedikt nodded at you when you looked at him, he's got an awkward smile forced on his face as he stretch his arms towards you for a handshake.

"Benedikt MacTavish, nice to meet you," He introduced himself, his hand hanging in the air as he wait for you to reach it.

MacTavish? Doesn’t sound like a local name. You’re glad for that, at least you’re not the only foreigner on your new workplace.

"I'm—"

"Yeah, I remember. Your surname's familiar though, Price, yeah? Are you perhaps related to a military captain?" He casually cuts off your introduction, seemingly eager to know something like he can't hold the question another second longer.

A little taken aback with how he outright talked over you, you were silent for a minute to process that fact and also his question.

"Ah, yes, right," you replied when things finally start sinking in your brain, "Well, he's actually my uncle. How come you know of him?"

Honestly, he's not related to you by blood. He's just your adoptive father's cousin, which makes him your foster uncle if that word even exists. But he doesn't need to know that much about you, what would he even do with the information if you told him?

"Ah, well, my cousin's actually the man's friend. John MacTavish? Soap? Does that ring any bells?"

"Oh, Johnny, yeah, I know the man. What a small world we live in," you smiled after hearing a familiar name, finding the coincidence a bit funny.

Finally, you took Benedikt's hand to shake it, forgetting for a moment that it's still waiting for your hand.

"Nice to meet you, Soap's cousin."

"Nice to meet you, Price's niece," he returned the introduction in the same humor, a genuine smile now plastered over his lips.

"I'll leave you two to it." Sir Wagner interfered and just left you two without another word, which is honestly weird but expected of a man his type.

"Phew, glad I found something common with you, or else it'll be hard to find an ice breaker activity," Benedikt sighed in relief after sir Wagner's finally gone from the scene, "Have you already went to the dorms? Found your room, and all?"

With a shake of your head to answer his question, you wordlessly replied no and looked at him, seeing what he'll say or do.

"Ah, alright, I can show you where it is, then we can start our rounds after. Is that alright with you?"

"Sure, thanks," You answered, your tone is a bit lively now compared to with sir Wagner earlier, since you're like a chameleon who adapts to whichever environment it's in.

You're blue when they're blue, pink when they're pink, red when they're red, and so on and so forth. A firm believer of do unto others what they've done to you. Karma? You rarely put your faith in that, you mostly take things to your hands and be the human version of the word revenge. It's not really cool, in fact, you kind of live harder because of it, but no way your ego would let go of your way of living.

Benedikt started walking, looking at his back every now and then to check if you're still following him as he quietly traversed the halls that should eventually lead to the dorms.

In the middle of your journey, you passed the center of the prison that connects all wings of the building, which means, each transported prisoner would also pass the center before getting to their assigned cell.

The tension in the central building was thick, the air is almost suffocating that it made you freeze on your spot as you try to find the cause of such unnatural atmosphere.

When your eyes landed on the now closing heavy door of the building, your gaze immediately fell to the tallest man in the middle of armed men.

He instantly caught your attention with his tall height, sticking like a sore thumb from the whole crowd.

"Benedikt, you know anything about that man?" You asked in a low voice, curious to find out who he could be, not even tearing your eyes away from the behemoth of a man.

"Ah, shit, today's his transfer, I totally forgot…" He muttered under his breath with a curse, "König, an ex-military guy. Would you believe that today's only his 8th day in prison? Like all prison days combined. He won't behave in any cell he's put in, forcing him to be transferred on new places every other day with how many crimes he commit on each one."

"What??" You uttered in disbelief, taken by a total surprise with the information.

"Yeah, I'm being totally honest right now. It's not normal that a criminal would be transferred from a normal prison to the maximum security because of misbehaving, but guess what? He's committed murder after murder in each base. That's what made him worthy of maximum security prison."

You can just try to press your lips in a thin line, an attempt to hide your disgust. Murderer… The vilest things to exist in this world. How can he live knowing the fact that he's ended a person's life? Oh, how much you loathe them.

You kept a scornful gaze towards his way, throwing daggers as if your stare alone could kill the guy. And of course, it's impossible that he wouldn't feel it, eventually staring back at you.

König, as Benedikt referred him, looked back at you straight in the eyes. Even though there were no holes in the sack that's put on over his face right now, you're certain that he turned his head just to identify who could be burning a hole on his head right now.

You feel like throwing up. Just the thought of breathing the same air as that of a murderer was enough to make you feel nauseous.

"Benedikt, let's go. Bring me to the dorms already." You said, almost pleading as the desperation to get out of his presence faintly showed.

∆. 06:39:07PM of the same day, nurses' office.

"So how was your first round?" Benedikt asked, giving you the canned sparkling water he opened just now.

"Horrible," you replied, taking the canned drink from his hand and downing it quickly.

The drink slid down your throat just like any other liquid, but it's a little painful because of the fact that it's carbonated. You just downed your drink, the bubbles popping on your throat and making you feel like it's burning your insides for a second.

Benedikt gave you a concerned look, but quickly masked it with a soft laugh, "Well, I cannot blame you… Working with criminals isn't exactly the most honorable thing out there. Plus we're understaffed, which makes the workload for each of us actually horrible."

"Yeah, right, that too," you grimaced, feeling more exhausted than how you usually do back when you were just working at the hospital, "I'm sorry Benedikt, my condolences goes to you. You're the most packed nurse here."

He chuckled, "Well, if you're sorry, take some of my patients?" He joked, which earned a laugh out of you.

Before you could even reply, there's suddenly a loud bang in the room and it wasn't a gun, it was the room's door being haphazardly thrown open by a panicking nurse who's also out of breath.

Jane, one of the nurse you've met today.

"Someone! Help! Vanessa! She's– she's wounded! Her eyes! Oh my, heavens, her eyes! We have to sedate König, where's the syringe?!" She started rummaging the room for a syringe and a drug that's supposed to put a person to a deep sleep.

Alerted, Benedikt and you stood up and helped her search for something. When Benedikt got his hand on the drug, he approached Jane and held her shoulders, trying to calm her down.

"Jane, calm down, I got it, but first, I need you to take a deep breath. You can't work with panicked nerves." He tried calling in some sense to her, but she won't calm down.

She started screaming, and started getting hysterical.

Jane, and Vanessa, you're pretty sure they got a thing with each other, maybe this is why she's acting inconsolable?

"Give me the syringe and the drug, I'll respond instead," You presented, preferred to sedate a monster rather than calming a stranger down.

Benedikt's got a better knowledge than you do, it’s better you leave them be than be left to console her with words you probably wouldn't mean. At least that's what you thought.

Benedikt pondered for a moment whether you're fit or not to handle the situation, but in the end, he decided to trust you, giving you the things after all, and also telling the number cell of König.

Rushing to the scene, with an emergency kit you grabbed in the office, you wasted no time and ran as fast as you could.

1245. Cell 1245, prisoner 190228. Must hurry up to cell 1245 before it's too late.

Eventually, you reached your destination, and unfortunately for your guts, you were met with a gore scene. There's an emptied syringe poked into one of Vanessa's eyeballs, one of her hands wrapped around the object in fear as she trembles, and cries.

There's also a whole puddle of blood under her, a lot on her white uniform, and mouth. Now that you observe her, she's also shedding tears of blood, her lips tainted red as blood continues to flow out of it.

What the fuck. This scene is fucking horrendous. What happened?

The guards are gathered around König, watchful of his steps, expectant and quite tense as they wait for him to make a move— ready to stop him from causing even more havoc. While he's not moving, König is watching Vanessa bleed on the floor with cold eyes which is honestly more frightening than him causing a scene.

He's fortunately not punching one guard after the other, so you doubt there was a need for sedating him.

Surveying the situation, you decided to change your plans of prioritizing the sedation of König, to aiding Vanessa first.

Without an inch of hesitation, you knelt in front of Vanessa, some blood soaking the edge of your white skirt. You placed the emergency kit beside you, opening it with haste until everything in the kit is visible.

"It's no use!" Vanessa cried, "The poison has–" she then frantically screamed, fumbling a few of her words as she started gagging from her own blood.

Before you could even touch her, she dropped dead on the floor. A sight that will be the reason of your nightmares for days, or weeks.

You were shaken down your core, blood suddenly cold, and heart beating extremely fast out of shock. You feel your body freeze, hands that were supposed to hold her now are hanging mid-air.

"I just saved her years in prison for murder," You heard a man's voice from behind you speak in a thick, and unexpectedly boyish accent.

You can't stop your brows from furrowing, and eyes show contempt at the mere sound of his voice, let alone his words.

"You are disgusting, a vile creature, don't you dare open that filthy mouth of yours." Unable to restrain yourself, you spit each word with venom as you slowly turn around to look at him furiously, "You are the murderer here. Don't confuse it now."

He does not speak. His eyes only staring at you through those 2 small holes on his makeshift mask.

Holding his equally piercing gaze, you stood your ground, rationality has left your body. You're acting on impulse, on your emotions, something a professional shouldn't do in this type of situation but damn, your ego is just some other kind of level. It will definitely put you on your place someday, but you thought that you should just worry about it when that time comes.

"Pathetic human. Too dumb to even think." He finally broke the silence, irritation in his voice.

Before you could even reply, he had already turned his back on you, walking back to his cell on his on will. The guards locked him up quickly after checking on him one last time.

The maximum security prison is totally different from a normal one. It's worse. Because everyone is sworn to confidentiality, no word really gets out on what's happening behind its high walls.

Prisoners in this place are like expendable pawns. The government uses them however they wish, and unsurprisingly, companies too. They have illegal control over some of the prisoners, depending on how much they paid the government for it.

Someone wants König dead, and you're not even surprised that he was already tried to be disposed of first day in. It could be a private company he used to work for, or maybe enemy, it could also be done for personal reasons. Signing up for a job here means you should expect those types of things, that's why you made sure to be adequately prepared over events like this happening during your shift.

If he was a normal person, you would've felt bad for the prejudice you have over him, but he's a convicted murderer– a serial killer at this point, so you believe that he doesn't deserve the benefit of doubt.

"A killer won't get my sympathy. That will be the last thing I'll ever do in this earth," You've uttered, anger never leaving your eyes as you sat still in your place.

∆ . 11:59:31PM of that day, staff dormitory.

With a gasp, you wake up from a shallow sleep, catching your breath as you try to recover from the nightmare you just had.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," You cursed repeatedly, frustration and distraught are clearly heard in your voice.

Fortunately, you're the only one in your room, not a shared dorm or anything, or else your hypothetical roommate would've pegged you for a madman.

Why would it be about that now of all days? You said at the back of your mind, frustrated over the dream you just had.

Desperately, you tried to swallow that thought, along with the nightmare. Fortunately, before the memory gets too vivid, the alarm on your wristwatch goes off which pulled you out of the world you’re sucked in.

It's the alarm you set the first time you got it, 12:00AM. Midnight on the dot.

You sat down, trying to calm yourself.

Ah, right, your next shift is at 12:45AM which is just 45 minutes from now. With Vanessa gone, and Jane temporarily dismissed to rest, you had to take the extra shift and give up a few hours of your precious sleep.

That reminds you, have you checked up on König as you were supposed to? Even if you hate him, you still have to do your job.

Shit, now you got to fill his report before anyone even notice or ask for it.

Reluctantly, you got out of your bed and prepared to check in early for your shift, planning to stealthily take the prisoner's record to fill it up, hopefully while no one's around to harshly criticize your tardiness on your first day.

— &

You made it to 1245 cell without any road bumps, luckily. Now all that's left is actually checking up on König which you can just frown about. Before sticking the key in the hole, you took a deep breath and tried to at least look neutral—your working face.

Counting from 1 to 5 quietly at the back of your mind, you collected yourself at 3, steeled yourself at 4, and finally, pushed the iron door open at 5 without giving yourself enough time to hesitate and get cold feet.

This prison gives each prisoner a spacious place to live in almost comfort, with only one person per room. At least that's how they do it in this part of Austria. There are quite a lot of cells after all, so they're not shy on using all of them.

"I'm your nurse, I will be checking up on you so please, sit down." You said with a firm tone, putting the bag on the bedside table where all of the essentials for vital checking should be packed.

Each nurse on duty is required to use the same bag, for both safety, and precaution.

"Ärgerlich schädling," he muttered under his unusual breathy voice which set an alarm in you.

Now that you look at it, the back of his shirt is wet, and he's panting a little. Did you really mess up big time on your first day? Shit, now you have to fix this somehow.

"Prisoner 190228," you read the number assigned to him, printed on the sheet of paper you're holding one-handedly, "I said sit down. I can't check on you properly if you're positioned that way."

It was pathetic really. Your nerves are getting the best of you, and it's hinted on your voice.

“Will nicht,” he grumbled, unmoving and unbothered.

You never really stayed in Austria that long in the past. Only a year or two to finish the last 2 years of your nursing school but your university didn’t require you to speak German so you didn’t bother getting that deep into learning the language. You’re an entry-level speaker at best, but since it’s been years already, you’ve lost that ability and can only guess what he’s saying.

“You will, now hurry up and sit down so we can get this over with.”

“Ich sagte nein, verliere dich.”

“Yes, you will. And please, I would really appreciate it if you speak in English.”

You heard his tongue clicked at that, “Warum sollten sie überhaupt eine Ausländerin einstellen? Ich bin es verdammt leid, diese verdammte sprache zu sprechen!” He groaned, almost sounding like a teenager throwing a tantrum at his bed.

He sat down on his bed after that outburst, you don’t even need to peek under that mask of his to know he’s frowning in annoyance, his eyes alone says it all.

“Awfully late to check up on me now, yeah?” He asked, begrudgingly you think, but you decided not to give attention to it.

“Did the syringe grazed you? Was it injected on you? Or did it find other ways to get into your veins?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“It did not.”

“Are you certain?”

“I am fine, so get lost.” He snapped again, his voice starting to sound like his catching his breath again.

You thought he was grinding his teeth the whole conversation, and now it made sense. He’s holding something back, and it’s probably the pain from the poison, his tone only adds up as an evidence to that.

“You are not. You’re breathless, sweating, and,” your eyes looked all over him, trying to observe his posture, to find proofs to support your claim, “…You’re sweating buckets, and shaking.”

You bit your lips, an attempt to maintain your composure as you try to find a solution.

“I need to see your face, take that mask off,” without a warning, you reached for the edge of his mask— something that you later regretted doing so.

In an instant, he has put you under him, his gloved, big hand is wrapped around your neck while the other one is gripping your wrist that was once the closest to his mask earlier.

He’s fuming in anger, the heat coming off him is immense as if he’s a steam machine. Bodies wouldn’t act normally like this against poison, not this much heat while keeping a great vigor. His body feels so different… something you’ve never seen before.

“Touch my mask once more,” He seethed through gritted teeth, anger evident in his unblinking eyes, “Then I will have to devour you.” He threatened, his hot breath and heavy body touching your skin, “Stubborn maus. Get your ass out of here before it’s too late. I won’t take responsibility for your insanity.”

This marks the end of this chapter.

[A/N: Thank you for reading this far! I'm open to gentle criticisms because my heart can't handle harsh words hsdahfw. I'll try my best to take them positively though! Notice that there are timestamps (like ∆ . and — & with the former being a longer time skip, and the latter a matter of a few minutes difference from the latest indicated time), and locations during an event. I placed them there so there would be less confusion regarding the timeline and when a particular event happened:) I added translations in the last part to keep it realistic too. Like, you're meant to not understand him much whenever he speaks German so yeah. Still, if you're curious what they translate to, the translations will be just down this note. That's all, thank you again! (´｡ • ᵕ •｡ `) ♡]

CHAPTER 01 TRANSLATIONS:

[1]: Ärgerlich schädling, Annoying pest

[2]: Will nicht, [I] don’t want

[3]: Ich sagte nein, verliere dich, I said no, get lost

[4]: Warum sollten sie überhaupt eine Ausländerin einstellen? Ich bin es verdammt leid, diese verdammte sprache zu sprechen, Why should they hire a fucking foreigner at all? I’m fucking tired of speaking that damn language

[5]: Maus, Mouse

#yandere konig #monster fucker #fanfic #prisoner konig #nurse reader #female reader #monster!konig #konig x reader #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #cod #konig

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ineylesian · 8 months

Note

hey!!!

I was wondering, how would Ghost react to the reader scolding him?? like, something happens that disrupts the mission and it's his fault and the reader scolds him, not aggressively, but still I would like to know Ghost's reaction

Also, the idea that he and the reader have a romantic relationship but he's still a bit strict :)

(I used the translator to write all this!! sorry if there are any translation errors, English is not my native language :D)

WALK AWAY FROM THE SUN

— SIMON “GHOST” RILEY X READER

— AO3 | MASTERLIST | EVENT

— WORD COUNT | 3k

— WARNINGS | canon typical violence, hurt/comfort, mentions of weapons, arguments, mentions of trauma.

— SUMMARY | you often meet ghost at his shortcomings, but nothing serious as this has yet to happen.

— AUTHOR’S NOTE | tysm for the request 🫶🫶 i wanted to expand on this just a lil but made sure to keep the original prompt, i hope you enjoy!! hope the scolding isn’t too strict :)

Ghost thinks he’s having trouble breathing.

He doesn’t know if it’s because of the worry sanctioning in his chest, or the bullet lodged in his ribs. It takes a few seconds, he breathes, and a slightly ragged puff of air crawls its way back up his esophagus. Shallow wounds never hurt him, but ones that fester in the mind nearly paint his vision black.

It was a bad mission, destined to go wrong the moment Price laid out the plan. Too many HVTs to secure in such a dangerous zone, touched down in a land similar to post scorched earth. Calls of concern were dismissed by Shepherd, this mission was too important to let go, and they were to complete it, no matter the cost.

Nevertheless, things went south, fast. Nearly an entire squad of foot soldiers dead in under one hour, and only 2 out of 4 targets eliminated. It wasn’t long before Price called in evac, the mission’s end along with it. There was always time again to try again. Until the screaming started, and Ghost was nowhere to be found.

It was capture or kill, and it was certain no one was getting captured at this rate. You’d seen it all, the look he gave Price as he was getting into contact with Shepherd, and the miniscule shake of his head as he tightened his gear. The screams were yours, are you out of your fucking mind?-- hair whipping against the wind as you watched him disappear into the flames, yelling for the pilot to touch down.

Any sane soldier would have shaken their head and waved to confirm exfil, but this was nothing near normal. The 141’s purpose isn’t sanity, it’s loyalty. Price wasn’t going to allow himself to lose more than one soldier, and it was apparent that you were leaving with or without his permission. He strapped a tracker to your vest before you jumped.

Ghost wasn’t expecting to get shot. Maybe the adrenaline kicked in too early, or maybe the opportunity was just too good. The last two HVTs right in his line of sight, running through the open, unarmed.

Or so he thought.

He sits slouched against a wall, the hand clamped over the bullet’s entryway growing progressively more damp as the minutes pass. He should’ve expected someone with a target on their back to run around with a gun, anything lethal, even, especially after watching his friend’s jugular fly from his neck. Pointed a gun and blindly shot. A rookie mistake that put him and his whole squad at risk because of some halfhearted words Shepherd hammered into his head.

He believes in no matter completely. Maybe that’s where he comes short.

Frankly, Ghost isn’t even worried about the lingering pain in his abdomen, or the fact that the last target escaped. He’s worried about the person coming to find him. Something in the back of his head grows into a throbbing pain in the frontal lobe and he closes his eyes, hoping it’s not you that’s coming.

Who could he be kidding? Of course you were going to come for him. You always did, and always will. It’s a danger that follows when you happen to love someone you run into the frontlines with. Something that was going to get one of you killed one day, purely because he knows he’d do the exact same thing.

Ghost curses under his breath. You’re just like him sometimes, blindsided and hard headed as they come.

Falling debris and the thud of boots join the rasp that serves as his breathing. You’re here, and it looks bad, worse than he expected. Your eyebrows are knit tightly together, and he can see the dribble of blood that rolls down your chin due to how hard you bite your gums. Your skin is laced with sweat, and you’re panting, hard.

He’s only been bleeding out for three minutes. With you here, it feels like an eternity, and the grasps of something much worse than death are holding time still. When he finally shifts his lips to speak, you shove a cloth against his ribcage, hard. All that comes out is a strangled grunt, and he falls silent. No one renders him as speechless as you do.

He hasn’t felt so small since his father. It’s deserving, every last bit of it. He let go of himself and you still came to save him. He should be feeling nothing short of gratitude, yet he only feels as though someone dragged him into the undertow and left him to drown there. The way you refuse to meet his eyes strikes harder than any other bullet, and for the first time, he doesn’t know what to do.

All he can feel is the fear that you have instilled in him, and his consciousness slips before he can think of anything else.

—

Forgiveness is a hard thing to earn. In the 141, it seems more rational to die than seek it.

Ghost doesn’t consider death. He’s considered nothing, not since a bullet put him into a coma for a week. In that time, he dreamt of choppy waters and black riptides. The slosh of imaginary waves greeted him more times than your voice did.

He only remembers it once. You asked one of the nurses how he was doing. When she said he’d wake up, you left.

You don’t wait up on people, Ghost knows that. No part of him holds the expectation that you would’ve cared just a little more and stuck around. You knew he’d live, and that was the end of it. You walk away from the sun when it burns you.

When it comes to the battlefield, you’re cold as ice and follow rational orders to a tee. You keep your head on straight until you don’t, because taking care of others feels better than sprinkling soil over an empty grave. The way you think is profound yet humanity never fails to escape you, it’s what dragged you to him, stone-eyed and indifferent on the surface.

People around him always say it’s impossible to get attached in the military. He almost believes them, but he thinks of you and all else fades. Like a moth to a flame, he knows you’d follow his trail into hysteria. He knows it frustrates you, habits such as those are hard to shake. You’ve spent too much time by his side to quit. Couldn’t shake you even if he wanted to.

It reminds him of three years ago, with you curled up beside him in the depths of Syrian mountains. You’d offered him some bourbon for the pain– he’d been stabbed in the leg, covering up with the excuse that it’d help with the cold. You knew how to tempt him, just one drink turning into the whole bottle empty at your feet. Only you could make him succumb to something like that, listening to you ramble on about how careless he was to get stabbed, hours of it, the coziness of you and the blankets drilling static into his head.

Ghost could hold his alcohol better than you. Barely felt a buzz from the drinks in his system. But this.. your head lightly bobbing against his shoulder, haphazardly checking on his bandage before kissing the exposed skin beside it. You were right, his whole body was on fire, so enamored with you, the feeling of home creeping along his skin in short, fatigued breaths.

He vaguely remembers when you turned to your side, hands hot on his pulse and sinking underneath. Everywhere, you were everywhere. You had taken him by storm and the buzz of the bourbon heightened his senses to a point where it was nearly unbearable. It took every fiber of his willpower to listen, straining against the irrevocable hold you had placed on him, fighting to restrain himself.

Amidst the haze, you asked him if he would do something for you. In that state, Ghost thinks he would’ve tried to overthrow the entire planet if you wanted him to. Instead, you uttered something short of ten words, and he made one of the biggest mistakes of his life when he answered.

“Promise me you’ll look out for yourself, Simon.”

Your inquiry seemed small, fragile, and simple to be compliant with in the moment. He shuns himself for failing to remind you of who you were, what you were fighting for, and that looking out for yourself is a restraint only some can hope to afford. It’s a luxury that separates people who want to save the world from those who do.

“Alright, then.”

Drunk or not, he made a promise. Broke it just as easily. He resists the urge to bash his head against the wall as consciousness returns to him, opting to thank the nurse with a few words scribbled on a napkin before disappearing.

As much as he wants to scrub the sickening scent of antiseptic and illness from his skin, Ghost can’t bring himself to visit your room right now. He knows you’ll check the infirmary soon– despite what you say he knows you stop by, even if it’s for a second, yet he opts to leave base regardless if you come to find him or not. He’d rather speak to you when you’re on those terms. Guessing by the freshly washed sweatshirt that sits zipped up to his neck, you probably don’t want him dead.

He’ll cut his losses there.

—

The early hours of the morning creep along the skyline, spilling over the roads below. You walk, dismissing the dull ache in your feet from miles of dug up sidewalk and the scorching ground you had run across some days ago. It’s not long before the breeze picks up the scent of saltwater, light ripples rock calmly against marsh and you sigh.

You knew he’d be here. Always came when tragedy struck and life wasn’t fair. It reminds you of a homage after nights of terror in Urzikstan, peaceful, and nothing else. Somewhere you go when you can’t quite reach the ocean.

Ghost sits with his back to the sun, perched against a dock overlooking the water. Your legs come to a stop, and you stand still, wondering if this was all a mistake. Maybe you should just turn around while you can, run to the safety of a home that only carries a lingering scent of him. Here, the breeze makes you nauseous.

Everything here is riddled with sorrow and buried in tears. The cycle repeats, you think you deserve to cry.

You take a look to the sky and the clouds point you offshore. Saline winds pull you farther and it’s too late to reconsider leaving when your foot creaks against the dock. Ghost catches you in his peripheral, approaching slowly, the distance polarizing. It feels like glass is lodged in your feet. The gap waged feels something like No Man’s Land.

Ghost sits on the edge, one leg hanging over the water while the other sits folded at the knee. You lean against a support beam across from him, one glance and you think you might choke. Flashing rays dawn over the baclava settled over his face, drawing light to the skin bridged above his nose. Eyebags crawl and tear at paint ridden skin, blond eyelashes fluttering against smudged black, over the one part of him that feels normal. Nothing else does.

He stares ahead, umber hues washing over ripples cast by fish in waiting. You feel like you do everytime you come here, except sadness is held back by frustration, boiling underneath your skin and rising to the surface. Moments pass, the breeze dies down and beckons for you to speak.

“You broke your promise.” Pressure settles within your chest. Hurt floods the atmosphere and Ghost’s eyes leave the water. He thinks, you lie in wait, arms crossed defensively over your chest.

“You can’t rely on intoxicated words.”

It’s fair, yet completely unfair at the same time. You know it was an unreasonable thing to ask, came straight from the alcoholic worry that seethed in your mind. Normal people don’t make promises they know they won’t be able to keep. People that care too much ask of them.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts.”

Ghost says nothing. You know he wanted to keep that promise. Held it over his heart for three years, let it slip under his sleeve as all other things do. Something that happens when war is all you know. He knew you, too, but warfare is different from anything else. You understand that.

The smell of antiseptic reeks off of him, the sun licks at black paint and chips crumble. He’s nonchalant on the surface like always, but you know him. Underneath blood stains the hole in his abdomen that put him here. He leans toward it as if pain has become him.

He’s always been like this, body hungry for violence, mind begging for reconciliation. It’s how his mind is wired, shutting doors on people makes them want to close it in another’s face. You learned to coincide with it, but there’s still a line. The fact he crossed it so easily sparks the worry within and you fight the tears that push against your sockets.

Anger resides and reels back in, lapping at the shore and bringing you to your knees. You fear you’ll lose him that way.

It’s all you think about.

“What made you think that was a good idea?” You bark, grasping his chin to face you head on. “You think putting yourself in danger is no big deal, don’t you? Worried everyone sick because of a stupid HVT.”

He sees right through you. Worried me sick, he hears it as he would an echo. It’s a profession of worry, he knows you worry because you love him.

“We all have to make sacrifices.” His response is a dull front, you hear the guilt laced within. “You know that.”

You do. Things stay strict on the battlefield and remain that way. Until it’s him. When there’s Ghost, there’s always Simon. You learned to make that exception because you understood that. Ghost is not afraid to die. Simon is.

“What good are you to anyone if you throw yourself in the line of fire?” You spit, pointer finger snapping to hover above his wound.. “There’s no guarantee that someone will always be able to save you when things go wrong. You know that.”

He knows that, and he knows you.

You know there’s a darkness that lingers within him. It’s inevitable. Something that festers, building up until it’s strong enough to lash out. It’s selfish, cares and waits for no one. A walking death sentence that hangs over his head no matter the value he places in his life. It chases him in his dreams, trails a dark shadow over his head that turns him into the person he fears he’d become. Adapted him so the only thing he feels when he pulls the trigger is recoil.

“We win together, and we fail together, Simon. It’s not your responsibility to change that.”

He hates that side of his head that made him think otherwise. Hates himself more when he makes you worry.

Old habits die hard. It’s not easy to take, the way he knows those parts of him linger. You know when it comes, the front he manages with surgical precision shatters and he breaks down into hysteria because it’s too much for one person to handle.

Regardless, he tries. You love him for that. He loves you because you walked into his life and it gained purpose.

All that’s good in his life comes from you. The first nights in his life he felt welcomed to sleep because you were in bed beside him. Days fly by and he changes. You change with him. The small room he occupies at base doesn’t seem so lifeless anymore because you’re always in it.

He damns the way you smile at him, infectious, a snapshot memory he keeps in his thoughts. Thoughts that draw a compass in his mind that routes home to you.

Every part of him feels selfish for making you feel this way. It tears through him as a knife does and his nerves flay from the heat.

“I’m sorry, lovie.” It feels like he’s suffocating, drawing on the tears that slide down your face and drip onto your hands. He takes dampened skin and holds onto it as if he’ll lose you forever if he lets go. “‘M so sorry that I made you worry. Bastardish thing to do.”

His accent is heavy, dripping with resent and pleading for composure. It’s everything and nothing all at once. Your tears stain his hands and he feels like he always does when things go wrong. Except, it’s always you who quells him in the midst of nightmares. His mind races at the stutter of your breath, hands fumbling to push stray hairs out of your eyes.

“I love you, so much. Wouldn’t ever wanna make you worry, yeah?”

Silence passes for a minute. Seagulls chirp and water sloshes against eroded rocks.

Your eyes peek out from his hands, slotting your arm between his, reaching up. You tug and his mask bunches up at the nose, fingers smoothing over the surface of his skin, warm, grasping for affection. You yearn for his touch and he gives it to you without question.

Ghost tastes of gunpowder and the bask of the sun. It reminds you of home, slightly chapped, never wanting more than what he can give. He’s gentle, canines gently poking against your lips, perfectly still. You sigh inwardly at the feeling, reveling in all that he is until you can breathe no longer.

“You’re such an idiot.”

Your chest heaves, breath leveling with a rough scoff. His eyes crinkle like they do when he notices you packed extra eye black for him. Mouth parted, a ghost of a smile curving at his lips.

“I know, can’t seem to get myself sorted.”

There’s an underlying meaning to it. Passes through like the wind that cards through your hair. Guilt rides the waves, but you don’t want to cry anymore.

You just want to heal. Ghost understands that more than anyone else.

#arqhms #🐚 arqhmssummer23 #call of duty modern warfare #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #cod mw22 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley x reader

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martamatta95 · 25 days

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And for a while I've been thinking about something, about a theory regarding Valentino: what if he, when he arrived in hell, had found himself in this moth's body without being able to help but produce those pheromones? In the sense that his ability is a capacity that he cannot control, his body produces that aphrodisiac independent of his will. Just as a normal person produces saliva without having control over it, the body just does it.

I think about how this ability could have thrown him into unpleasant situations with no idea what was happening with demons chasing him to possess or abuse him.

And then I thought about how Val always keeps her wings around his body like a coat, is it for some form of protection? To make sure his wings are there with him, safe and sound?

Obviously these are just conjectures that confirm how much he fascinates me as a character.

Thank you for your attention, my native language is not English so sorry for any grammatical errors

#valentino #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #theories #mothman #vox x valentino #voxval #staticmoth

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bbiine · 7 months

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SPILLED WINE REWARD ָ֢

SUMMARY: an accident involving wine, between Seokmin and Y/N, two ex-lovers, at New York Fashion Week, makes Seokmin want to reward you

PAIRING: idol!ex boyfriend!Seokmin x idol!ex girlfriend!fem!reader

WARNINGS: (probably) grammatical errors and a little of smut

GENDER: fluff and (a little) smut

BIBI'S NOTES: hey mes amours! It's my first time writing so if you have any feedback, pls don't hesitate to let me know! I want to warn you that English is not my native language, so forgive me for any mistakes!

Enjoy!

New York Fashion week used to be a major fashion event. Only people who were influential and important to fashion were able to be invited and honored with a presence in the big city.

The kpop industry was gaining more recognition and many more idols were going on to have worldwide careers. And Seokmin, or better known as Dokyeom or Dk, a member of a famous boy group called Seventeen, managed to be influential enough to be one of the guests.

He was sitting in the front row of the catwalk looking at all the new clothing collections and all that luxury, when his eyes met the eyes of an idol, it was Y/N, your ex-girlfriend, you were becoming famous in the Kpop industry and you finally had this opportunity to be present at such a big event. It had been a long time since you had broken up, not a single word had been exchanged.

Seokmin watched you with curious eyes, you were totally focused on the clothes and you looked different, your countenance was dazzling and mysterious at the same time. You hadn't realized that Seokmin had been looking at you since the beginning of the show; for him, the show didn't matter when he could simply observe your every detail and expression.

As he walked through the middle of a large, chic hall, full of people drinking their champagne and sporting their latest clothes after the big show, Seokmin tried to find the girl who had captured his attention. Until he saw the same pair of eyes that had always caught his attention: you were talking to a very influential person in fashion, but things didn't seem to be going well.

Seokmin approaches with a smile on his face

"Hello...Y/N right? Sorry to disturb your conversation, but can I talk to you for five minutes?" Seokmin smiles

When you realize who it is, your smile fades a little, after all you've been avoiding him. As soon as your eyes meet his, you remember all the past you've had and that night when you decided to give up on everything.

It was an ordinary Wednesday night when you decided to end it all. You'd known each other since you were 16, when you were just a trainee, and for as long as you can remember, you'd been in love with him. But the more time passed, the more you felt the pressure of being an idol, you simply didn't have a romantic life with Seokmin, you couldn't go out or have dinner together because everyone would know about your relationship and your company didn't want that. It had been three years since you were in this relationship and it seemed to only put pressure on you, your life revolved around hiding the relationship from the two of you.

Seokmin snaps two fingers in front of you making you wake up from all the thoughts and memories you had with him

"Long time, Y/N" He smiled

"What do you want to talk to me about?" You crossed your arms

"Well, you tour abroad and you can't speak English properly? You didn't seem to understand anything in that conversation"

"Of course I understood, I was just confused because she was talking too fast" you walk to a private corner while picking up a glass of wine

Seokmin accompanies you, he was curious about what had happened to you since the break-up

"How's life?" He leans against the wall and stares at you

"Are you really going to do that? You don't have to try to talk to me, after all, the last time we saw each other you hated me." You sip some wine, trying to forget how much that night hurt you.

"I didn't even remember that, I'm not holding any grudges... if it's all right for you, then it's all right for me" He gives you the same smile and waits for your reaction

"Then we're even" You give a forced smile

Just then, a waiter walked by with a tray of wine glasses. Seokmin reached out to take one, but a sudden stumble caused the glass to slip out of his hands, spilling the red liquid in his direction. Your dress is stained red, leaving you embarrassed and Seokmin ashamed

You look at him angrily

"Seokmin, look what you've done!" You grab a cloth and try to wipe it off, but it only makes matters worse

Seokmin looks totally embarrassed and worried

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to" he tries to help you, taking a cloth and trying to wipe it off

The stain was right on your stomach and a little close to your breasts, as you felt his touch after so long, your cheeks turned a little red and you tried to hide it with your anger

"Don't touch me Seokmin" you pulled away from him, walking into the great hall, inside you found a room where you took out your cell phone and called your manager, so you could get another dress.

Meanwhile Seokmin was trying to find where you were, after all he wanted to apologize and didn't want things to turn out this way.

You were standing with your arms folded with your back to the door waiting for your manager, after all he said he was close by. the door opens and you say

"Quick, open my dress, this smell of wine is bothering me" you say without looking to the door

you feel hands running down your back as open your dress, that feeling was familiar to you, and then you hear the voice of the person who caused all this

"I'm sorry Y/N... let me make it up to you..."

You turn around quickly with red cheeks and see that it's Seokmin

"What are you doing here? Do you want to cause more trouble?" You say trying not to give in, but it was difficult, all the old feelings were coming back.

He laughs a little and faces you "You know I didn't mean it... let me apologize the way I know how" He stares at you, waiting for your reaction as he gently brings your lips closer.

Your legs freeze and you just can't say anything, you wanted it, you wanted to feel Seokmin's lips again. By now you were totally surrendered to him.

When your eyes close and you feel Seokmin's lips, that familiar sensation takes over your whole body, you feel like you're home after a long time.

There was no hesitation when their lips finally met, a passion they had both been holding in for so long was finally released. Seokmin's hands were roaming all over your body, sending all kinds of impure thoughts to your brain. Your lips were in perfect sync, as were your tongues, which were also present in the kiss.

When you both finally ran out of air, Seokmin pulled away and whispered in a hoarse voice with his eyes closed

"I want you...like I've always wanted since I was 16" he opened his eyes and faced her "come back to me Y/N...come home"

That was the pinnacle for you, after those words you could no longer hold in all that passion that had been stored up for so long, you brought your lips together again, causing Seokmin to pull you in, closing any kind of space between the two of you.

His hands were still on her body, and they went to her open zipper, pulling the stained dress down completely. "At least the accident did some good," he said, totally mesmerized by your body in just your underwear. You roll your eyes and laugh softly, "My God, how could I have stayed away from you for so long?" He stares at you with that smile as his kisses trail down to your neck, low moans coming from your mouth as Seokmin leaves marks on your neck.

"This is so wrong, but it feels so right," you whisper. There was no doubt about your feelings for each other and you could no longer resist the physical attraction

In one swift movement, Seokmin picks you up and places you on a random table in the room. In the meantime, his mouth never left your neck, making you continue to moan and driving him crazy "One day you're going to kill me with pleasure Y/N" he said between kisses

"Don't worry, I'm already doing it now" you let out a smile and your hands go down to Seokmin's blouse.

As your hands slowly move down to Seokmin's dress shirt, the intensity of the moment intensifies. The fabric of the shirt ripples with every movement of your touch. His fingers slide between the buttons of Seokmin's shirt, teasing him with each stroke. Soon, the shirt begins to move lower and lower, revealing more and more of Seokmin's muscular frame underneath.

you can feel your own heart pounding and the heat rising through your skin. Perhaps Seokmin's claim that you were already "killing him with pleasure" was right all along.

He stopped kissing her neck and faced her as he slowly descended, looking into her eyes. He was at the height of her legs, while his hands caressed her thighs as he slowly spread her legs apart.

"For you I keep my legs open and forget everything" you said in a sensual and provocative way

Seokmin's smile widened and he left a kiss on the inside of her thigh

"I know, but maybe you can't keep them open for long," he says, teasing you even more

His kisses move upwards until they almost reach the middle of your leg, and then your phone rings, taking all the focus away from you.

You pick it up and your eyes go wide and you quickly get up from the table, looking for your dress and leaving Seokmin at a loss.

The call is ended and you say "My manager is here, he's looking for me, quick, get out of here" you say desperately and put on your stained dress

He gives you a mischievous smile "well, looks like we'll have an audience to see what I'm going to do to you" he approaches you again and you push him towards the door "stop Seokmin, no one can catch us here"

He laughs and then opens the door saying "Fine, fine but...I'm not done with you yet"

@bbiine, 2023

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