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bunny-jpeg · 5 months ago

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unconventional payment

charles leclerc

cw: no smut, mafia au, au-typical violence, mafia boss!charles, gambling, smoking, blood, scary!charles, forced marriage

basically charles beats the shit out of your fiance for selling you away to get rid of a gambling debt! enjoy!

this bunny runs on tags, comments & reblogs! feed the bunny! (also tell me if you want more of this, i wrote this on a weird whim)

it was very clear that your current fiance had a gambling problem, it start off quite innocent, a few dollars here and there. then it grew to jewellery and eventually the necklace your grandmother gave you went missing. any paycheck he got went down the drain within a few days and you had to stretch your budget to cover for it.

it was at that point you should've packed up your things and left. but you moved with him to monaco to live a nice life. without him, you really had nowhere else to go. so you stayed and watched the money drip away like a leaky tap.

you were furious when you lost your apartment, you snapped your jaws at him like a dog. but what else were you supposed to do. you shoved him and yelled with tears in your eyes. how dare him. how dare this selfish man play you like a fool!

until he told you he could win it all back, but the stakes were higher. not only was your engagement ring on the line, but your hand in marriage too. the highest stake of them all, you.

you dressed nicely for the event at the casino, your hands shook as you got ready. he had pawned most of your nice clothes for cash, and the thought made your blood run cold.

you ended up having to take the bus to the casino because your fiance had sold off his car to pay for his habit. it was at this moment you should've turn away and got the first flight back home. your parents would be happy to see you.

eventually you were seated at the table with your hopes held high. you kept your head high as you sat across the table with the mafia boss that your fiance was tangled up in.

he was handsome, when he spoke, it seemed like he was speaking to you. his voice laid over your shoulders like a heavy blanket. it scared you a little.

you reached for your fiance and said, your voice a little tight, "please. win this." you earned a reassuring nod and a kiss on the roundness of your cheek.

and then he went and lost it, all of it. you held your head high as you looked at this pathetic man you once called a fiance. you said with all the strength in your voice, "congratulations, dear. you have truly fucked me over." and did not break into tears as you felt the strong hand of the boss' bodyguard against your back.

it was only when you were shuffled into the car that you broke down. sobs raked your body as you hunched over in the leather seat of a car that was probably financed by all the money you fiance lost.

the boss got in soon after, his hand in yours. it was far more gentle than you expected from a man who probably killed for fun. his other hand wiped your tears. he sighed, "don't cry, mon petit oiseau."

you sniffled and pulled away from him, with venom in your voice, "how could i not be, i just got sold off like a prize winning hog! so you can what, sell me on the black market!"

the boss looked at you and reached for you, but you pulled away. you made yourself smaller. you pleaded for him to not touch you, so he didn't. he however got closer to you in the backseat on the car and took off his suit jacket and gloves.

he placed the jacket over your shoulders and placed the gloves in your lap. he said in a soft voice, "you hold onto these for a moment." then got out of the car. he softly closed the door behind him.

you heard a noise outside and moved towards the car door that the boss exited out of. you opened the door and near the casino, partially concealed by the wall of the building. it was the boss, holding your fiance to the ground while he punched the living daylights out of him. the sound of his fist hitting your lover's face was disgusting and honestly scared you.

but deep down, a sick part of you liked seeing your bastard of an ex-fiance get beaten down for everything he had done. everything he had done to you.

the boss let go of your fiance when he caught the sight of you. and got back up. he looked down at the other man and gave him a sharp kick in the side before he rolled up his shirt sleeves further. he said, "a man who is willing to sell his woman deserves worse than death. you should be lucky to be alive, but if i see you in my casino ever again."he shook his finger at the other man, "they'll never find you."

both men looked to you and your ex fiance tried to say something, but the boss' voice cut through, "oiseau, close the door. i will be with you in a moment."

you swallowed, you really didn't have options now did you? you closed the door and sat in the back quietly. you shook a little, but exhaled deeply to compose yourself.

you looked to the boss' bodyguard in the front seat. you asked, "does he do this a lot? like, take women as payment."

the bodyguard rolled down the window to exhale his cigarette smoke, "no. usually he just kills them after a while." the man's accent was dutch and he appeared like he had seen this a million times, "if you're worry about him selling you, he won't. you're a little too old for the market."

"seriously!!" you exclaimed.

the bodyguard laughed, "i'm joking. i'm joking! he doesn't work in that field. you're fine. the agreement was your hand in marriage. he can't very well marry you if you're sold off somewhere."

you rested back in the seat, you curled the jacket closer around your shoulders and sighed, "this is insane. this has to be a dream. how did he even know what i looked like? i could've been... hideous!"

the bodyguard flicked the cigarette out the window and shifted in his seat, "oh... you don't know."

you tensed, "what don't i know, mister bodyguard?" as if tonight hadn't rattled you enough.

he looked over his shoulder, those blue eyes of his looked haunting in the low light of the parking lot. he reeked of cigarettes and cologne as he replied, "your fiance a few nights ago showed my boss, me and another gentleman nude photos of you. i could see why my boss and the other man were so willing to jump at the chance to have you all to themselves. honestly, you got the better option. charles is a good man. you were a gamble worth taking in his eyes.

your heart sank, the man you had been with for close to five years had paraded around your nudes to a bunch of mafia strangers? you thought your eyes were going to bug out of your head.

"how many photos?" as if that would make a difference.

the bodyguard shrugged, "i'd say about five, six? it was hard to look away in all honesty. he was also very drunk when he said that you were a fool for letting this go on for so long."

"oh... okay."

you had enough. you opened the door and found the boss still beating the shit out of your fiance. you stepped out with the jacket on your shoulders and his gloves in your hand. you walked towards them.

after everything you gave up to be with him, everything you let be stolen from under your nose. he had the audacity to parade your naked images around like you were some kind of whore. tears stung your eyes once more.

the boss was breathing heavily and your ex-fiance's face was almost unrecognizable. you placed a hand on the boss' shoulder and your words pierced through the cloudiness of his mind.

"honey." you said, you leaned forward to the man and said, "i don't think you should mess up your hands too much. these gloves look expensive and i'd hate for you to get blood all over them." you showed the gloves to the boss.

he looked over to you and the corner of his mouth turned upwards. he pulled away from your fiance, and carefully curled your hand around the gloves, "well then, why don't you take care of them until my hands are healed."

you trembled, he was quite scary up close. you held your voice as you said, "well, then maybe you should stop punching garbage. i'm assuming you have a home to show me, now?"

the boss fully smiled as he gravitated closer to you. away from the other man. he draped an arm over your shoulders and guided you back to the car, "of course, of course." as you walked back, he looked over his shoulder as your ex-fiance and then spat on the ground away from you. your ex fiance better get out of the country fast, or else charles would stick to his word.

back in the car, he draped an arm around you and looked into your eyes. his smile for you held as he said, "you really are something. may i kiss you?"

you felt heat crawl into your face, "you punched the shit out of my fiance and now you want to kiss me?"

he replied, "he wasn't much of a fiance now was he? sold you away like he did all of your valuables. like that necklace."

"he told you about it?"

charles nodded, "all about it. how much it meant to you. how much value was in it. every little detail about the thing. it was honestly so touching that i couldn't bring myself to sell it. now, why don't we go home? i'll give it back to its rightful owner." he moved closer to you, "think of it as a wedding gift. to the future mrs. leclerc."

you licked your lips and said, "you won't take it away?"

he shook his head, "no, no. even if we get a divorce, you have my word that you'll walk away with the necklace. i believe family is important and heirlooms should be kept and not sold away."

you swallowed, "alright then, mister leclec. you may kiss me."

he chuckled and broke out into a boyish grin, "your little fiance wasted such potential." he moved hair out of your eyes, "but don't worry, oiseau, you'll spread your wings and go to new heights with me." then kissed you gently on the lips.

and then into the night, you left your old life behind. thoughts of your ex fiance were pushed into the back of your mind as charles buckled you into the seat and kissed you on the forehead with such a tenderness that it was hard to believe both of his knuckles were covered in blood and bruised. <3

tbc?

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octuscle · 4 months ago

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Expats

Gabriel was quite a freeloader. Of course he didn't come to Dubai as an expat because he was stupid or lazy. But he also knew pretty well that he would have had a much harder time in France affording the life he could afford here. Life in Dubai was luxury, pure luxury. He had a cool house with a pool, a gardener, a housekeeper and a chauffeur, and he earned a huge amount of money. He didn't necessarily work nine to five, but he didn't necessarily work himself to death either. In short, for him, life here was pure paradise!

Gabriel had heard the news that the climate had turned a little against the privileges of expats. But he wasn't interested in it. He would do his job here, he was saving a lot of money, which was safely invested in Switzerland, if necessary, he would be on the plane back to Paris tomorrow and look for a job in Riyadh or Kuwait. The United Arab Emirates were not the only place on this planet where he could make money. And besides, he didn't really care about it today. It was Saturday. Tomorrow he would have to sit in the office again, today he wanted to work out at the gym and then hang out with a few friends at the beach club for the rest of the day. A few cocktails, lobster for dinner and then to bed. The only problem was: his driver had the day off. And even though Gabriel had been living in Dubai for several years, he couldn't drive a car himself! He had forgotten how. That's why there were drivers. So he ordered a taxi.

The porter at his community had announced the driver. Gabriel took his sports bag. A quick check in the mirror: yes, he looked good. He opened the door. The brand new Toyota taxi was parked in front of the door. The driver got out and asked in English if Gabriel wanted to put the sports bag in the boot. Gabriel barely looked up from his phone and just shook his head. He didn't feel like having any more contact with the driver than absolutely necessary. The driver opened the back door for him, Gabriel got in, repeated his destination once more and continued playing with his cell phone. The driver remained quiet at first. But then he started talking. First in English. About the weather, about football, where Gabriel came from, whether he liked Dubai. Gabriel simply didn't react. The driver just kept talking. That he had fled from Syria. That he had been in Dubai for four years. That he had two children. He showed Gabriel pictures in his wallet. His English became more and more incomprehensible. A mixture of English and Arabic. Gabriel continued to pretend to be deaf. The driver kept talking. In Arabic. He was ranting about the expats. About the arrogance of the infidels, who thought they were better than everyone else, even though they were dependent on the mercy of Allah, who had given the Muslims oil.

Gabriel was annoyed. He wanted to work on a few e-mails and not talk about politics. What did he care about politics? So he snapped at the driver, "Rakkiz 'ala al-siyaqa, ana mashghul!" The driver smiled. He looked in the rear-view mirror. God's plan was working.

The taxi driver's language began to change again. Arabic with a French accent. Gabriel sat in the back on the worn imitation leather seats of the old taxi. In the front, Ayoub couldn't stop getting worked up about the last few games of Olympic Marseille. Djibril grinned. He knew the feeling. When Ayoub was in a rage, he was in a rage. Fortunately, they were almost at the wholesale market, then his brother would let him out. Ayoub would drive his shift to an end. And Djibril would see what kind of job he could get. He and his pals ironically called themselves the expats. It was true in a way… His brother and he had immigrated from Morocco ten years ago. They had family in Marseille. Djibril had really tried hard at school, but at some point he stopped going and started working as a day laborer at the wholesale market. He was doing well. By now, Djibril had his network, he knew his way around. And he was strong and fast. He saved what he earned. He was proud of his brother Ayoub, who made it to get a taxi license and his own taxi, which was also Djibril's goal.

He checked his messages. It was still dawn. Ayoub was on his way to the banlieue to sleep. It was good when he drove the night shift, then he and Djibril didn't have to share the small bedroom. So far, no one had contacted him to request Djibril's services. If necessary, he could help out in his aunt's café in the kitchen. There was no money for that, though. But a café and a lunch. Life as an expat wasn't so bad.

#eat the rich #male tf #muscle tf #reality change #arab tf #racial tf #race change #age reduction

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ataraxiaspainting · 1 year ago

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Careless Whisper.

Yan Gojo x F Reader.

Synopsis: After a long game of playing hard to get, Satoru finally gets you to go on a date with him. But you didn’t expect him to choose a farmer’s market of all places for it to happen.

Warnings: Yandere themes, threats of kidnapping, manipulation, and stalking.

Continuation of There is an Uproar.

Word Count: 1.6k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

This Could Be Us by Rae Sremmurd

Get Up by NewJeans

Supermassive Black Hole by Muse

Bathroom by Montell Fish

Hotel by Montell Fish

Money Trees by Kendrick Lamar (feat. Jay Rock)

After Hours by The Weeknd

Government Hooker by Lady Gaga

Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys

The Walls by Chase Atlantic

“You’re killing me; don’t you see that you’re the winner of the game?” – Benét, Killing Eve

*~*~*~*

You hold onto the basket like a lifeline.

You grasp the handle so tightly it leaves a mark on your palm and the inner parts of your fingers, and you can practically feel splinters impaling them.

They say the devil takes on many forms, and if it were said that the devil could take the form of a white-haired man with sunglasses in whatever religious texts you were given in your childhood, you would believe that without question.

The identity of whoever or whatever forced you on this little outing is not human. You know this. He can’t be. If he is, your view of humanity will decrease tenfold from where it once was.

Should you pray to all the higher powers and heavens above that he is or is not?

“Come on, let’s get moving!” They say monsters speak in either honeyed, calm, and sweet voices or grimy and croaky ones; but this one is neither. “I kinda want to pet a chicken.”

*~*~*~*

“There’s my girlie!”

You were not surprised in the slightest when Satoru pulled up to your door with a Rolls-Royce. At the sight and the called-out nickname, you even roll your eyes and cross your arms, much to the driver’s amusement. The car is adorned with lamb's wool carpets, embellished with stunning wood and milled aluminum accents, and encased in box grain leather. Only the highest quality materials for the all-high and mighty Satoru Gojo. It is the topmost privilege for a mere mortal like you to even see it.

“You ready?” As you ever will be.

“Yeah.” Your response is quick and to the point. “You still haven’t even told me where we are going for this… date.”

The smirk that appears on his face instantly gives you the impulse to slap it off. But he is stronger, and will most likely not let you, because he is the one in control and not you. So, as he beckons you closer, you close the car door behind you and sit down on the leather seat. The drive to hit him still stands for as long as you anticipated. You just look out the window and hope it goes away.

It is nice outside. Though if Satoru’s foot was not on the peddle, you would have liked it more.

It’s spring now. The grass is bright green and tall, and you could swear that you can smell it. Tiny circles of flowers are there now and then. Dandelions and daffodils mostly. You could count them if Satoru was not driving so damn fast you think he is speeding.

He put your purse and phone in the back seat because, of course, he would want no distractions to stop you from paying attention to him.

He starts talking about how nice your dress looks and how happy he is to have you as his girlfriend.

You want to puke.

It would take at least two weeks for the smell to go away. He would have to clean it up because you would refuse to. Any damage done to his ego no matter how small is a win in your book.

You could picture it now. Satoru, long plastic gloves on his hands and wearing an apron, scrubbing the expensive carpet stained with bile and looking disgusted with you. Maybe he would give up on you then.

You almost laugh at the thought but decide against it when he starts talking with a smile that does not exactly reach his eyes.

*~*~*~*

He is tailing behind you like a grim reaper.

The black turtleneck he is wearing you suppose could count as a cloak. His face is white enough to be a skull, his hair helping you see it in your mind. All the expectations he has for you could be considered a guillotine’s blade that is ready to be let loose at any moment. Maybe a scythe. Don’t lose your head. That is what you keep telling yourself as you go down the aisles of sewn aprons and freshly baked bread and chickens wandering not too far off from the butcher’s cutting board. Don’t lose your head.

So, you keep walking to not be the victim of Satoru’s wrath.

“They’re so cute!” He exclaims, bending down to get a better look at the rabbits that are trapped within the confines of the barbed fence. “I just want to take one home! It would be like having another you around!”

His cooing makes you want to stab your eardrums out with the plastic fork you were given along with a free sample of chicken pot pie.

But you can’t ignore him either, he yearns for your responses like an addict.

“I’m not a rabbit.” You roll your eyes. Satoru responds by turning his head at you and then turning it again to make a visibly confused expression. “I’m a human. Not a pet. Not something to… lock up.” As his countenance turns somber and a hint of amusement lingers, the playful aura dissipates. Your breathing hastens, and your heart races. Perhaps voicing your thoughts was an ill-advised choice. Maybe an alternate utterance would have been wiser. Any alternative, for that expression, is one you wish to never witness again.

As you struggle to catch your breath, Satoru's steady grip on your shoulder brings a faint awareness to your hyperventilation. He calls out your name repeatedly, trying to reach through the haze of tears in your eyes. However, his words offer no solace or relief.

“Come on! Of course, you are.”

Maybe you will puke after all. But not on purpose like you originally intended.

His smile feels like a stab to the chest. Everything he does feels that way.

“...What do you mean?” What exactly does he have planned for you?

How far back do they go? Days, months, years, decades?

“You’ll see. You’ll like them, I know you will.” His hand clasps over your free one like a noose. “Either when you first know them or further down the line. I’ll be with you every step of the way no matter what you think. But just know I only have your best intentions at heart, okay? I can promise you that at least.”

“...Mmhmm. Let’s just… get moving.” Once again, you are off within a labyrinth of stalls.

You liked farmer’s markets during the warmer months, with your family and friends during school breaks and vacation times. Is that why he chose this place? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he also likes them. However, you cannot process the words Satoru and farmer’s market in the same sentence.

You pictured him bringing you to some nightclub and forcing you to dance under disco lights and loud music until you nearly faint from exhaustion. As much as you don’t want to admit it, maybe this is the better option.

You can’t imagine any other option. It could be worse. Those threats of his can easily become true, he could just lock you up in his penthouse and refuse to let you leave.

So, you don’t complain. You don’t want Satoru to get upset, even if you haven’t seen him that way.

“We’ll eventually move in together. Get married further down the line. Maybe have a kid or two, if we are really up to it, though I don’t mind if it is just the two of us.”

For once, you hope Satoru chooses his initial thought. You don’t want to bring any child into this hell.

“Romantic, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

His finger traces the bridge of your nose downward and the tip of it presses on its end.

“Boop!”

“Sigh…”

He does it again.

“So cute…”

“Let’s just continue.” You try so hard not to seethe. “I heard at this specific market they have good lentil soup. Focaccia too. Let’s go.”

He nods.

“Okay! We’re off!”

There is no escape, is there?

“It should be by the coffee stalls if I remember correctly.” You don’t get to finish because of course Satoru found a brand new interest to fixate on.

Aprons. Specifically, the pink lacy one that he is holding gently like a baby. “[First]! Look! You should wear it. It suits you!”

You shake your head immediately. To this, Satoru frowns. You’re hungry after being hauled around from stall to stall for the past hour or so. Can’t he understand that?

He holds the apron up closer to your face.

You turn away from it. Satoru only puts it closer. He really can be stubborn. That is what got you in this situation in the first place. As stubborn as you sometimes are, you can hardly compare to him. But that is with most things.

Money, power, influence, he will always have more than you will, won’t he? Damn it. No escape. Not from him.

Not from him.

But you can try, can’t you? You can at least try. “Come on! It would look so cute on you.” You shake your head. His frown only deepens and he sighs.

Then he shoots you a look again. The look demanding of you to be good or else. The look that gets you to obey him every time he uses it. Every time he puts his foot down.

Don’t lose your head.

Evade the blade.

“Good,” He says, handing you the apron with the smile you unsurprisingly prefer over the hellish expression he just showed you. “Go.”

You do.

Damn it. As long as Satoru keeps toying with you, you won’t ever be able to find peace. No escape. Damn it.

You slip the apron on as he watches, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

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appocalipse · 11 months ago

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hiiiii can i get velvet gloves + dusty love letters with mr. stevie harrington??? let's say...in the backseat of his car, you know...👀

oh i know 👀 | 18+ please 💗

visit amy's flea market ♥

"Oh, baby, fuck."

He's got your skirt hiked up to your hips, a hand braced beside your head against the leather seat, the other firmly gripping the back of your thigh, holding you steady as he thrusts into you.

The space is tight in the backseat but Steve definitely makes it work. The leather squeaks as he thrusts in and out, patient but determined in his rhythm, and by then you're so lost in the sensation that you can barely think of anything else.

You gasp for breath, the air inside the car thick with the scent of sex and sweat and the faint hint of the vanilla air freshener he has hanging from his rearview mirror.

"Honey," Steve is breathing heavily, his chest to your chest, lips ghosting over the side of your neck. You're so wet you can hear the slippery sounds every time he thrusts in deep. "Is it too much? I just..."

"N-No, don't...don't stop, shit..." you chuckle breathlessly, digging your nails into his shoulder. "Can't... can't believe you talked me into this."

He laughs, a low, satisfied rumble from deep in his chest, and kisses you hard on the mouth before pulling back to look at you, eyes shining with desire. "It's about time we did this, huh?"

"Did what? Fuck in the backseat of your car?" You laugh and then gasp as he hits just the right spot.

"What? You're not enjoying it?" Steve's grin is a wicked thing. He pulls out and pushes in again for good measure. "It sounds like you do, baby."

"But what if..." you start to say, but the rest of the words get momentarily lost as he releases your thigh, hand finding its way between your legs instead. He rubs light, teasing circles over your clit. "What if someone sees us?"

"Don't worry about that." He leans down, kisses your neck. "We're in the middle of nowhere. Nobody's gonna catch us."

Steve's fingers lightly dance over your clit, and you feel yourself start to tighten around his cock. "I think you're just saying that so I...fuck..." your knees start to shake as you feel the beginning of your orgasm building, and you wrap your legs around Steve's waist. "I won't... won't stop."

He presses his thumb to your clit firmly. "Doesn't look like you want me to stop, honey."

You moan loudly, arching your back and digging your fingernails into his shoulders. "Steve... God, Steve..."

The sensation is overwhelming. Your body feels like it's on fire, every nerve ending tingling and alive. He keeps his hand between your legs, expertly teasing your sensitive flesh until you finally collapse back against the seat, spent and gasping for air.

He stills inside you for a moment, buried to the hilt, watching you catch your breath. His gaze travels over your flushed face and down your body, lingering on the way your chest rises and falls with each ragged breath.

"Well, that was quite a view," he says with a grin, and pulls out slowly, letting you feel the loss of his length inside you. You whimper at the sensation. He reaches up to cup your chin, tilting your head back so you're looking into his eyes. "But I think I'd rather see it like this."

He thrusts back inside, hips snapping forward, and you gasp at how easily he slides inside all at once.

You're still sensitive. The feel of him filling you up again makes you moan against the back of your hand. Steve's lips quirk into a pleased smile.

And then he's moving again, pushing your legs up until the top of your thighs is pressed against your stomach, opening you wide for him and keeping you there as he thrusts deep, hard and fast, hips slapping against your ass.

His breath comes hot and ragged against your neck as he pins you to the seat, apparently too lost in the sensation of being inside you, feeling you clench around him, to care about anything else.

Your fingernails dig into the soft flesh of his upper arms. It's almost painful, the way he's moving, but it also feels too good to stop.

So you don't.

You arch your back, meeting each of his thrusts, feeling him push against something deep inside you that you never even knew was there. You moan into his shoulder, feeling the hot, wet pressure of his lips on the tender skin of your neck.

Steve's movements grow more desperate, more urgent. He's close, you can feel it in the way his hips jerk and thrust, the way his body shudders with every breath. He drops his head, bites down on his lower lip, and then glances up at you through his lashes with a satisfied smirk. "You're close again, aren't you, baby?"

Oh, he has no idea.

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve x you #steve x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington drabble

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wekillitwithfire · 7 months ago

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but who am i to have opinions on the 'modernization' of cars, I drive a 2011 nissan juke sv and i LOVE it.

anyone else feel like the rise in large touchscreens replacing the dashboard controls in modern cars and making what once were physical buttons and knobs you could find and control without directly looking at into buttons on a screen INCREDIBLY dangerous?

#it actually does have a screen but i don't use it for anything other than the shitty backup camera #it's basically a built in gps it doesn't really do anything #i have to use an aux cord and i wouldn't have it any other way #and you know what this bad boy cost me? 7k #(not counting the various repairs done to it. but my dad did those so they were free)#oh wait i did have to get a new hood for it bc the original one had rust and that cost like... 1k? 1.4k?#before this car i drove a 2013 nissan leaf (i like early 2010s nissans sorry)#and you might not know this but that was one of the first fully electric cars on the market. that bad boy could go 70 miles (barely)#on a full charge. and god did i LOVE that car #it was good for driving to and from school and in some ways was nicer than the car i have now.#however. not practical for driving several hours to my university #also my current car has a really cool black and red color scheme inside.#which means it gets VERY hot when the sun hits those black leather seats. but it looks awesome

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muiitoloko · 6 months ago

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Diamond Shadows

Summary: In a world where his life of crime clashes with his deepest affections, Hans Gruber navigates the perilous balance between heists and heartfelt romance.

Pairing: Hans Gruber × Fem! Reader

Warning: Smut, Theft, deception.

Author's Notes: I put a ton of effort into this one, so fingers crossed you guys enjoy it as much as I do! As always, your feedback is super appreciated!

Also read on Ao3

Hans Gruber chuckled darkly as he leaned back against the leather seat of the getaway car, the mask he had worn during the heist now discarded on the floor. The exhilaration of their recent robbery coursed through him, a heady mixture of adrenaline and satisfaction. Around him, his comrades examined the various bags of jewelry they had pilfered, the precious stones glinting in the dim light of the vehicle. The heist had gone off without a hitch, and the police were none the wiser, left chasing shadows as Hans and his crew made their escape.

“Look at this beauty,” one of the men, Dieter, exclaimed, holding up a necklace encrusted with diamonds. He let out a low whistle, his eyes gleaming with admiration. “My girl’s going to love this.”

Hans raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on his lips as he considered Dieter’s request. “Ja, just one,” he replied smoothly, his accent a polished German that rolled off his tongue with a natural ease. “But make sure it’s something that won’t be missed. We don’t want to draw unnecessary attention, understood?”

Dieter nodded eagerly, tucking the necklace into his jacket with a grin. “Got it, boss,” he said, his voice laced with excitement. “She’ll never know where it came from.”

Another of the crew, Karl, laughed as he examined a pair of sapphire earrings, their deep blue stones catching the light. “Hey, Hans,” he called out, his voice teasing. “What about you? Shouldn’t you take something for your girl too? Bet she’d love a bit of sparkle.”

Hans’s expression softened slightly at the mention of you. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he considered Karl’s suggestion. You were blissfully unaware of his true profession, believing him to be a successful investor who made his money through savvy dealings and market acumen. It was a carefully crafted facade, one that Hans maintained with meticulous precision. The idea of giving you a gift—a tangible reminder of his affection—held a certain appeal, even if it came from ill-gotten gains.

“Perhaps,” Hans mused, his voice a low, contemplative murmur. He picked up a delicate bracelet from the pile, its slender chain adorned with small, glimmering diamonds. The piece was exquisite, subtle enough to avoid suspicion yet elegant enough to reflect your taste. He turned it over in his hand, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “She would appreciate something like this.”

Karl grinned, nudging another member of the crew with his elbow. “See? Even Hans has a soft spot,” he said with a chuckle. “Guess everyone likes to spoil their ladies a bit.”

Hans shot Karl a warning glance, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Enough,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind. “Remember, discretion is key. We cannot afford to be reckless with our spoils.”

The crew nodded in agreement, their laughter fading into a more subdued appreciation of their haul. Hans leaned back again, his thoughts drifting to you as he considered the bracelet in his hand. You were the one person who brought a touch of normalcy to his otherwise tumultuous life, a beacon of light in the shadows he navigated so deftly. The idea of you wearing a piece of jewelry from this heist, oblivious to its true origins, was both ironic and oddly fitting.

Later that evening, after the crew had dispersed and the spoils were safely hidden away, Hans returned to his luxurious penthouse apartment. The city lights glittered outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a shimmering glow over the sleek, modern furnishings. Hans moved with a practiced grace, pouring himself a glass of fine cognac as he waited for you to arrive.

You had called earlier, excited to spend time with your busy boyfriend. The anticipation in your voice had been palpable, and Hans had smiled at the thought of surprising you with the bracelet.

When you finally arrived, your eyes lit up at the sight of him, your smile warm and genuine as you crossed the room to greet him. “Hans,” you murmured, your voice soft with affection as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

Hans’s expression softened, a genuine warmth in his eyes as he held you close, his fingers brushing lightly over your back. “And I, you,” he replied, his voice a smooth, cultured purr. He pulled back slightly, his gaze lingering on your face before he reached into his jacket pocket, producing the bracelet with a flourish. “I have something for you, meine Liebe. A little token of my affection.”

Your eyes widened in surprise as you took in the delicate piece of jewelry, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached out to take it. “Hans, it’s beautiful,” you breathed, your voice tinged with awe as you turned the bracelet over in your hands. “You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” Hans interrupted gently, his eyes locking with yours as he clasped the bracelet around your wrist. The sight of it against your skin sent a thrill of satisfaction through him, the symbol of his affection blending seamlessly with the facade he had so carefully constructed. “It suits you perfectly.”

You examined the bracelet Hans had given you, its slender chain adorned with glimmering diamonds. Your breath caught in your throat as the reality of the gift sank in. These were real diamonds, not the imitation jewelry you might find in a typical store. The thought of how much it must have cost sent a shiver of disbelief through you.

“Hans,” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you met his gaze, “this is… it’s real, isn’t it? Real diamonds?”

Hans’s smile faltered slightly as he watched you, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “Yes, of course,” he replied smoothly, his German accent lending a cultured elegance to his words. “Only the best for you, meine Liebe.”

You shook your head, your fingers trembling as you unclasped the bracelet and handed it back to him. “I can’t accept this,” you murmured, your voice filled with a mixture of awe and apprehension. “It must have cost a fortune. I could never afford something like this, and I don’t want you to spend so much on me. It’s too much.”

Hans’s brow furrowed as he took the bracelet, his eyes narrowing in a blend of confusion and mild frustration. “Nonsense,” he said firmly, his voice a low, soothing murmur as he stepped closer, the warmth of his body radiating against yours. “It’s just a token of my affection. The cost is irrelevant. What matters is that it brings you joy.”

You bit your lip, glancing down at the delicate piece of jewelry in his hands. The idea of wearing something so extravagant, knowing how much it must have cost, felt overwhelming. “But Hans,” you protested softly, looking up to meet his gaze, “I don’t want you to feel like you have to buy me expensive things. I love you for who you are, not for what you can give me. This… it’s just too much.”

Hans’s expression softened, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “Meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a tender, reassuring whisper, “you worry too much. This is nothing compared to the joy you bring into my life. I want to see you adorned in beauty because that’s how I see you—every day, every moment.”

You felt your resolve waver, his words wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Still, the thought of accepting such an expensive gift left you feeling uneasy. “But it’s so expensive,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you glanced back at the bracelet. “I could never repay you for something like this.”

Hans chuckled softly, a rich, velvety sound that sent a shiver of warmth through you. “Repay me?” he echoed, his tone laced with amusement as he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “Oh, my darling, you’ve already given me more than you can imagine. Your presence, your love… those are priceless to me. This bracelet is a mere trinket in comparison.”

His lips brushed against your ear, sending a delicious thrill through you as he murmured, “Let me spoil you, just this once. Wear it for me. Show me how beautiful you can be, adorned in diamonds.”

Your breath hitched at the seductive tone in his voice, the warmth of his breath against your skin igniting a spark of desire deep within you. The way he looked at you, his eyes dark with a mix of affection and barely restrained passion, made it hard to refuse him. “Hans,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of reluctance and longing, “I… I don’t know.”

Hans’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, his fingers trailing down your side in a slow, deliberate caress that sent a shiver of anticipation through you. “Trust me, meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr. “Let me adorn you with this gift. Let me see you wearing it, and nothing else.”

You gasped softly, the raw intensity in his eyes sending a rush of heat through your body. The thought of wearing the bracelet, and only the bracelet, while Hans’s gaze devoured you, was both thrilling and intimidating. Your heart raced as you nodded slowly, your breath catching in your throat. “Alright,” you whispered, your voice a breathless murmur as you met his gaze. “But only because you want me to.”

A slow, satisfied smile spread across Hans’s lips as he clasped the bracelet around your wrist once more, the cool metal resting against your skin. His fingers brushed over your pulse, sending a delicious tingle up your arm as he stepped back to admire you. “Perfect,” he murmured, his voice a rough, appreciative growl as his eyes roamed over your body. “You’re breathtaking.”

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at his words, a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure warming your skin. The way he looked at you, his eyes dark with a fierce, unyielding desire, made you feel both vulnerable and incredibly powerful. You shifted slightly, the cool metal of the bracelet a tangible reminder of his affection as you met his gaze with a tentative smile. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “For everything.”

Hans’s smile softened, a flicker of genuine warmth in his eyes as he stepped closer, his fingers trailing lightly over your arm. “You’re welcome, meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a low, tender whisper as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck in a gentle kiss. “Now, let me show you just how much you mean to me.”

His hands slid down your sides, his touch firm and possessive as he pulled you closer, his breath hot against your skin. The intensity in his eyes, the raw hunger that burned in his gaze, sent a shiver of anticipation through you as he whispered, “Tonight, you’re mine. Every inch of you, adorned in diamonds, belongs to me.”

You gasped softly, the heat of his words sending a delicious thrill through your body as you melted into his embrace, your heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and longing. “Yes,” you breathed, your voice a soft, breathless murmur as you looked up at him. “I’m yours, Hans. All yours.”

But Hans suddenly released you, a playful glint in his eyes as he stepped back, the warmth of his embrace lingering on your skin. His smile turned mischievous, a sharp contrast to the intensity of his previous words. “Patience, meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a soft, teasing purr. “All in good time. For now, I must prepare dinner.”

You blinked in surprise, a pout forming on your lips as you looked up at him. “Hans, you can’t just leave me hanging like this,” you protested, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and longing.

Hans chuckled, the sound a rich, velvety caress as he ran a hand through his dark hair, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “I enjoy playing with you,” he replied smoothly, his German accent lending a cultured elegance to his words. “And anticipation, my dear, can be its own kind of pleasure. Now, be a good girl and wait for me in the living room.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you met his gaze with a look of playful exasperation. “Do I at least get to help? Or am I just supposed to sit there and look pretty?”

Hans’s smile widened, a flicker of warmth in his eyes as he stepped closer, his fingers trailing lightly over your arm. “Tonight, your only task is to look pretty and relax,” he said softly, his voice a gentle murmur as he brushed a kiss against your forehead. “Let me take care of everything else. It’s my way of spoiling you, remember?”

You sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips as you nodded. “Alright, fine,” you conceded, your tone tinged with a hint of playfulness. “But don’t keep me waiting too long, Hans.”

Hans’s eyes darkened with a promise of later delights as he took a step back, rolling up his sleeves to reveal the intricate tattoo on his forearm—a design that held personal significance for him, though he had never shared its meaning with you. “I won’t,” he assured you, his voice a low, seductive growl as he turned towards the open kitchen. “Now, go on. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

You watched as he tied an apron around his waist, the sight of him preparing to cook adding a touch of domesticity to the otherwise sophisticated atmosphere of the penthouse. With a soft sigh, you turned and made your way to the living room, settling onto the plush sofa as you reached for the remote, flicking on the TV.

The evening news filled the screen, the anchor’s voice a steady drone as they recounted the day’s events. You barely paid attention, your thoughts drifting back to Hans and the promise of what was to come. But a particular story caught your ear, drawing your gaze to the screen.

“Tonight’s top story: A daring robbery at a high-end jewelry store leaves authorities baffled,” the anchor reported, her tone grave as she described the heist. “Masked men made off with a significant haul of valuable items, including rare diamonds and precious gemstones. The police are investigating, but so far, no leads on the identity of the perpetrators.”

Your eyes widened slightly at the mention of the robbery, a flicker of unease stirring in your chest as you glanced down at the bracelet Hans had given you. The delicate chain, the glimmering diamonds… They were exquisite, certainly, but you had never considered their origin. The connection between the news report and the bracelet on your wrist didn’t quite register, your thoughts too focused on the evening with Hans to draw any conclusions.

Shaking off the unease, you turned your attention back to the TV, trying to immerse yourself in the light chatter of the evening program. The sound of Hans moving in the kitchen, the clink of dishes and the soft hum of his voice as he prepared dinner, was a comforting backdrop, grounding you in the moment.

After what felt like an eternity, though it was likely only a short while, Hans called from the kitchen, his voice rich with a teasing lilt. “Dinner is served, meine Liebe. Join me, won’t you?”

You smiled, the anticipation that had been simmering within you reigniting as you rose from the sofa and made your way to the dining area. The table was set with elegant simplicity, the soft glow of candlelight casting a warm, intimate light over the polished wood. Hans stood by the stove, his sleeves still rolled up, a satisfied smile on his lips as he turned to greet you.

“Everything smells wonderful,” you said, your voice filled with genuine appreciation as you took in the sight of the carefully prepared dishes. “You’ve outdone yourself, Hans.”

Hans’s smile widened, a flicker of pride in his eyes as he set the final dish on the table, gesturing for you to take a seat. “Only the best for you,” he replied smoothly, his accent a soft, cultured murmur as he poured you a glass of wine, the rich, ruby liquid catching the candlelight. “I hope you enjoy it.”

You settled into your chair, your gaze lingering on Hans as he took his place across from you, his eyes dark and warm as he watched you. The meal was exquisite, each bite a testament to Hans’s culinary skill and his dedication to making the evening special for you.

As you savored the flavors, the earlier news report faded from your mind, replaced by the warmth of Hans’s presence and the promise of the night ahead. The bracelet on your wrist glinted in the candlelight, a silent testament to Hans’s affection, its true origins still a mystery you were blissfully unaware of.

Hans raised his glass, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of affection and intensity. “To us,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl that sent a shiver of anticipation through you. “And to many more evenings like this.”

You smiled, lifting your glass to clink it against his, the warmth of his gaze and the richness of his voice filling you with a deep, abiding contentment. “To us,” you echoed softly, your voice filled with a genuine affection as you met his gaze. “And to the wonderful surprises you always bring into my life.”

Later that night, after the plates were cleared and the last of the wine was sipped, Hans led you to the bedroom with a palpable air of anticipation. The candlelight flickered, casting playful shadows on the walls, creating an intimate ambiance that contrasted starkly with the intensity of Hans's touch. The elegance of the evening was about to give way to the raw, unrestrained passion that simmered beneath his refined exterior.

Hans’s hands were firm as he gripped your hips, his eyes dark with desire as he guided you to the bed. The delicate bracelet still glinted on your wrist, a symbol of the duality of the man who now loomed over you. “Meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl thick with his German accent, “it’s time for the main course.”

He pulled you into a fierce, hungry kiss, his tongue claiming your mouth with a possessive urgency that left you breathless. His hands roamed over your body, rough and insistent, as he pushed you down onto the bed. You felt the cool air against your skin as he stripped away your clothing, each piece discarded with a careless ease that spoke of his impatience.

With one hand, Hans gripped your hip, holding you in place as he positioned himself between your legs. The other hand tangled in your hair, pulling you back to arch against him, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered in your ear, “You’re mine tonight, every inch of you. Do you understand?”

You nodded, a soft whimper escaping your lips as you felt the hard length of him pressing against your entrance. “Yes, Hans,” you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation. “I’m yours. All yours.”

A dark, satisfied smile spread across his lips as he thrust into you, his cock filling you with a powerful, claiming motion that left you gasping. “Good girl,” he growled, his voice thick with a primal, unyielding desire. “Take me. Take every inch of me.”

Hans was relentless, his thrusts hard and deep, each movement a fierce, demanding claim on your body. His hand on your hip tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he drove into you with a rough, unrestrained passion. The pain mingled with pleasure, sending shivers of sensation through your body as you arched against him, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

“Scheiße,” he muttered under his breath, his voice a rough, guttural whisper as he watched you. “You feel so good, meine Liebe. So tight around me.”

His hand in your hair tugged harder, pulling your head back to expose your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin with a delicious mix of pain and pleasure. “You like this, don’t you?” he growled, his breath hot against your ear. “You like it when I’m rough with you. When I fuck you hard and make you scream my name.”

You could only moan in response, the intensity of his thrusts driving coherent thought from your mind. The feel of his cock stretching you, filling you completely, was overwhelming, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. “Yes, Hans,” you gasped, your voice a desperate, breathless plea. “Please, don’t stop. Fuck me harder.”

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest as he obliged, his pace quickening, his thrusts growing more urgent. “That’s it, meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr. “Take it. Take all of me. You’re mine. Only mine.”

The room was filled with the sounds of your combined pleasure, the raw, primal rhythm of his body against yours driving you both towards release. Hans’s growls of satisfaction, your gasps and moans, the slap of skin against skin—all merged into a symphony of unrestrained desire.

You felt the pressure building within you, each thrust pushing you closer to the brink. Your body trembled, your fingers clenching the sheets as you teetered on the edge of climax. “Hans,” you sobbed, your voice a desperate, pleading cry. “I’m going to—”

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice a rough, primal growl as he drove into you with a final, powerful thrust. “Come for me now, meine Liebe.”

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing with the intensity of your release. You screamed his name, the sound echoing in the room as pleasure rippled through you in overwhelming waves.

Hans's grip on your hips tightened as you rode the waves of your climax, the intensity of your release leaving you gasping and trembling beneath him. His dark eyes gleamed with a fierce, possessive hunger as he watched you, his expression a blend of satisfaction and unrestrained desire. The rough cadence of his breath and the flush of heat on his skin mirrored the primal urgency of the moment, a raw testament to the depth of his need for you.

As your body convulsed with the aftershocks of your orgasm, Hans’s hands slid down to grasp your thighs, his touch firm and demanding. He pulled your legs up, positioning them over his shoulders with a deft, practiced motion. The shift in angle sent a jolt of fresh sensation through you, your overstimulated body responding with a renewed burst of pleasure.

"Look at you," Hans growled, his voice a rough, seductive whisper thick with his German accent, the rich tones rolling off his tongue like dark honey. "So pliant, so ready for me. Do you know how much I love seeing you like this? Completely at my mercy."

You could only moan in response, your limbs limp and flexible from the intensity of your climax, the sensation of his cock buried deep within you pushing you to the brink of another orgasm. Your body arched instinctively towards him, your fingers curling into the sheets as he began to move, each thrust a powerful, demanding claim on your pleasure.

Hans's lips curled into a wicked smile as he watched you, the fierce, unyielding hunger in his gaze sending shivers of anticipation through you. "That's it," he murmured, his voice a low, rough purr as he adjusted his grip on your legs, holding you open for him. "Take me. Take every inch of me. You belong to me, and tonight, I’m going to show you just how much."

With a growl of satisfaction, he drove into you with a force that left you gasping, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your already sensitive body. The angle, the intensity, the roughness of his movements—all combined to create a symphony of sensation that had you crying out in ecstasy, your voice a breathless plea as you clung to the sheets.

“Scheiße,” Hans muttered under his breath, his eyes darkening with a fierce, unrestrained desire as he watched you. “You feel so good, meine Liebe. So tight and wet. Every time I’m inside you, it feels like I’m losing control. Like I’m drowning in you.”

Your breath came in short, uneven gasps, each thrust driving you closer to the edge once more. The rough friction of his cock against your inner walls, the feel of his hands gripping your thighs, the raw intensity in his gaze—all combined to push you to the brink of another climax. “Hans,” you sobbed, your voice a desperate, breathless cry. “Please… I can’t… I’m going to—”

“Come for me,” Hans commanded, his voice a rough, primal growl as he drove into you with a renewed urgency, his movements growing more frantic, more demanding. “Come for me again, meine Liebe. Let me feel you fall apart around me.”

With a final, powerful thrust, Hans pushed you over the edge once more, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of overwhelming pleasure. Your body convulsed, your cries of ecstasy filling the room as you clung to the sheets, the intensity of your release leaving you trembling and breathless beneath him.

Hans’s growl of satisfaction was a low, primal sound as he felt you clenching around him, the sensation driving him to the brink of his own climax. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice a rough, guttural whisper as he buried himself deep inside you, his movements growing more urgent, more insistent with each passing moment. “You’re mine, meine Liebe. All mine.”

The feel of his cock pulsing inside you, the raw intensity of his thrusts, the way his hands gripped your thighs with a possessive force—it was all too much. Your body arched instinctively towards him, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you teetered on the edge of yet another climax.

Hans’s gaze darkened, a fierce, unyielding hunger burning in his eyes as he watched you, his breath hot against your skin. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a low, rough purr as he drove into you with a final, powerful thrust. “So beautiful, so perfect. You belong to me, meine Liebe. Only to me.”

With a growl of satisfaction, Hans reached his own climax, his body tensing as he buried himself deep inside you, his release a powerful, overwhelming surge that left him gasping and trembling with the intensity of his pleasure. The feel of his cock pulsing inside you, the way his hands gripped your thighs with a bruising force, the raw, unrestrained passion in his gaze—it was all too much, driving you to the brink of yet another orgasm.

Your cries of ecstasy mingled with his growls of satisfaction, the room filled with the sounds of your combined pleasure as you clung to each other, the intensity of the moment binding you together in a raw, primal dance of unrestrained desire.

In the aftermath, as the echoes of your release faded and the room fell into a hushed, intimate silence, Hans’s hands slid down to cradle your legs, his touch gentle and soothing as he lowered them from his shoulders. His breath came in short, uneven gasps, his eyes dark with a lingering hunger as he watched you, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across his lips.

“Meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a low, tender whisper as he leaned in to brush a kiss against your forehead. “You were incredible. Absolutely breathtaking.”

You could only nod, your breath still coming in short, ragged gasps as you clung to him, the warmth of his body a comforting presence against yours. “Hans,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of exhaustion and lingering desire. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

Hans’s smile softened, a flicker of genuine warmth in his eyes as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his voice a gentle, reassuring murmur. “Just rest, meine Liebe. Tonight, you’re mine. All mine.”

As you lay there in his arms, the warmth of his embrace a comforting balm to your exhausted body, you couldn’t help but feel a deep, abiding contentment. The intensity of the evening, the raw, unrestrained passion you had shared—it was a testament to the depth of your connection, a reminder of the fierce, unyielding bond that bound you together.

And as you drifted into a deep, restful sleep, the last thing you felt was the gentle brush of Hans’s lips against your forehead, a silent promise of his unwavering affection and the raw, unrestrained desire that burned between you.

Hans lay beside you, his chest rising and falling with each measured breath as he tried to calm down from his own powerful climax. The room was filled with the lingering scent of sweat and sex, the heat of your bodies mingling in the intimate aftermath of your lovemaking. One arm rested behind his head, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as he savored the contentment that settled over him, the raw, unrestrained passion of the evening still thrumming in his veins.

For a moment, Hans allowed himself the luxury of stillness, the steady rhythm of your breathing a soothing counterpoint to his own rapid heartbeat. His eyes softened as he looked at you, your features relaxed in sleep, the delicate bracelet still gleaming on your wrist—a silent reminder of the world outside this intimate sanctuary.

The serenity was short-lived, however, as the sharp trill of his cell phone pierced the quiet. Hans’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as he reached over to the nightstand, fishing out the cigarette and lighter he had stashed away earlier. With practiced ease, he lit the cigarette, the flare of the flame casting brief, dancing shadows on the walls. The phone’s persistent ring continued, a reminder of the world that demanded his attention.

Exhaling a stream of smoke, Hans picked up the phone, his expression shifting to one of focused intensity as he glanced at the caller ID. This was the call he had been waiting for. Rising from the bed with a fluid grace that belied the weight of his actions, Hans moved towards the porch, the cool night air brushing against his bare skin as he stepped outside. The cigarette glowed faintly in the darkness, a solitary beacon in the muted light of the cityscape that stretched out below.

Ignoring his naked state, Hans answered the call, his voice slipping effortlessly into a polished French accent as he spoke. “Bonsoir,” he greeted smoothly, the German undertones of his natural voice masked by the refined lilt of his chosen guise. “I trust everything is in order?”

The voice on the other end was clipped, efficient, tinged with a barely concealed eagerness. “Monsieur Lacroix,” the buyer replied, using the alias Hans had provided. “Everything is set. We have the funds ready, but we need to confirm the authenticity of the items before we proceed.”

Hans’s lips curled into a knowing smile, the cigarette held between his fingers as he leaned against the railing, his gaze fixed on the glittering expanse of the city below. “But of course,” he purred, his tone one of practiced reassurance. “You will find everything to be in perfect order. The pieces are exquisite, and I assure you, they are worth every penny of your investment.”

The buyer hesitated, a flicker of doubt in his voice. “You understand, Monsieur Lacroix, that our associates are quite… particular about such transactions. Any discrepancy could be costly.”

Hans’s eyes narrowed, his smile turning sharp as he took another drag from the cigarette, the smoke curling lazily into the night air. “Rest assured, there will be no discrepancies,” he replied, his voice carrying a quiet, dangerous authority that brooked no argument. “The items are authentic, and the transaction will proceed as planned. You will have your jewels, and I will have my payment. Agreed?”

There was a brief pause, the weight of Hans’s words hanging heavy in the air before the buyer responded, his tone one of reluctant acquiescence. “Agreed. We will finalize the details tomorrow. Ensure the items are ready for inspection.”

Hans’s smile widened, a flicker of satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he exhaled a final stream of smoke, crushing the cigarette underfoot. “Très bien,” he said softly, his voice a silken caress as he ended the call. “I look forward to our continued partnership.”

With a casual flick of his wrist, Hans tossed the phone onto the nearby table, his thoughts already shifting to the logistics of the exchange. The jewelry, currently hidden away in a secure location, would be laundered through a series of carefully orchestrated transactions, each layer adding to the complexity of the web he had woven. The buyer, an intermediary for a network of high-end collectors, would provide the necessary funds, which Hans would then channel through his intricate network, transforming the illicit profits into clean, untraceable assets.

Returning to the bedroom, Hans’s gaze softened as he took in the sight of you, still sleeping peacefully amidst the rumpled sheets. The contrast between the ruthless efficiency of his dealings and the tender warmth he felt for you was stark, a reminder of the duality that defined his existence. He moved silently, his bare feet making no sound on the polished wood floor as he approached the bed, his eyes lingering on the delicate bracelet that adorned your wrist.

Carefully, Hans slid back into the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight as he pulled you into his arms, his touch gentle and possessive. The cool metal of the bracelet brushed against his skin, a tangible connection between the world of shadows he navigated and the light you brought into his life.

“Meine Liebe,” he murmured softly, his voice a low, tender whisper as he pressed a kiss to your temple, the warmth of your body a comforting presence against his. “Sleep well. Tomorrow, we face the world together.”

As you nestled closer, your breathing steady and even in the embrace of sleep, Hans allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection. The path he walked was fraught with danger, each step a careful balance between the persona he presented to the world and the ruthless ambition that drove him. But here, in the quiet sanctuary of your shared bed, he found a measure of peace, a fleeting glimpse of the man he might have been, had circumstances been different.

And as the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, casting a pale glow over the city that lay beneath him, Hans tightened his hold on you, his thoughts already turning to the challenges of the day ahead. The heist, the buyer, the intricate dance of deception and strategy—it was all part of the game he played, a game where the stakes were high and the rewards even higher.

But for now, in this moment, he allowed himself the luxury of simply holding you, the warmth of your body a balm to the shadows that lingered at the edges of his mind.

Translations:

1. Ja – Yes (German)

2. Meine Liebe – My love (German)

3. Bonsoir – Good evening (French)

4. Monsieur Lacroix – Mr. Lacroix (French)

5. Mais bien sûr – But of course (French)

6. Très bien – Very well (French)

7. Scheiße – Shit (German)

#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #hans gruber x reader #hans gruber #die hard

101 notes · View notes

popodoki · 6 months ago

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Hey, teacher! Aka my damn motorcycle Catwin AU! Part 2! Cause I'm easily swayed x

In this AU, Edwin is a school teacher, and Thomas owns a really cool motorcycle :'')

I think its pretty clear, but just for the record: I am taking various liberties with characters etc here

I also know nothing about astrology, friends x

Edwin sighs as he looks over the latest batch of exam scores from his class. High grades from his studious pupils as usual, lower grades from the boys who were almost equally as bright, but didn't put forth the effort. A long-standing issue, one the school board doesn’t seem half as concerned with as he is. Now alone in his classroom, Edwin hears the final bell, the ensuing floor-shaking exodus of students to the open air. He leans back in his seat, vowing to try to come up with some sort of solution to this problem later.

He packs some essays to read, homework that still need to be graded, into his briefcase, retrieves his coat from the rack in the corner on the way to the door. He very much needs a nice cup of coffee.

"Hey, Mister Edwin!" A loud shout echoes from the end of the hallway, and Edwin frowns, to himself, turning to face the student that the other teachers have affectionately likened to a bird.

"Mr. Finch, I have repeatedly told you to call me Mr. Payne. Not to refer to me by my first name, and especially not within the school grounds."

The teen has the grace to look apologetic, yet in pure young-spirited fashion, physically shrugs off the comment just a moment later. “I’m sorry Mr. Payne. But I have good news for you! Check it out!" The young man pulls a thick book out of his shoulder bag, flips it open to a page, bookmarked with a grey and blue checkered bit of laminated paper, thrusts the turned book and open page at Edwin, near bouncing with anticipation. Edwin bends his head and glances, inspects the writing, charts and scribbles. It's a large astrology analysis. On the top of the page, written in bold letters is 'Capricorn'. Below, Edwin skims through a far too large amount of text, even for an avid reader, and regrettably still unwillingly picks up phrases such as ‘You’re in the market for a partnership, and you might be pleasantly surprised, Capricorn.’, ‘Any existing relationship can deepen through dialogue.’ or ‘Saturn favours staying power, so look for a plus-one who’s in it for the long haul.’ Edwin skims faster, rereading the same few sentences to stall, making an estimate of a more natural seeming amount of time to read a prediction of his love life, from an astrology tome held up by a fifteen year old.

Next to all of this utter tripe, is a note stating 'check star alignment!'

Edwin can't help but smile, still, at the student’s obvious enthusiasm for the subject.

"Isn't that great news?" Monty Finch asks him with an answering smile, "Not only does your horoscope predict it, but I did in fact check, of course, and the star alignment today is also very favourable. Know what that means?" He adds in a conspiring, whispering tone.

"You have a bit too much free time and need to be assigned more homework?" Edwin asks, with a hint of a smile still on his cheeks and a tilt of his head to accompany his teasing intention.

The teen starts up his own analysis of the analysis, and Edwin knows if he doesn't put a stop to this conversation, Monty will keep talking, undeterred, for the next 20 minutes. "Alright, well Mr. Finch, thank you for sharing your inspiring passion for astrology. Enjoy your weekend." He pats the boy semi-affectionately on the shoulder, and brushes past him with long strides, beating a hasty retreat.

"Trust in the stars, Mr. Payne!"

Edwin tosses his brown leather shoulderbag into the passenger's seat of his car, pulls out of the school's parking lot, sighs deeply, rolls the windows down and lets the crisp air fill the car, rustle his hair.

He passes the Allcott estate on his way into town, glances out the window at it as he passes, though he doesn't know what he expects to find. The outer gates are closed, locked, he can't really see past them, so he shrugs to himself, refocuses on the road.

Port Townsend is one of the most affluent in the state. The people who live here have money, and they like to show it off. The school Edwin works for is a private, all-boys school that prides itself on how many of its students move on to acclaimed universities and careers pre-planned by either doting or detached parents. The houses are beautiful and scenic, most of the people are shallow and nosy.

Edwin pulls to a stop when he finds a good parking space, a few blocks away from his favourite coffee shop. It's small, locally owned, and one of Edwin's favourite things to do is order one of their dark roasts, with a scone, that is decidedly nothing at all like a bisquit, and settle in one of the overstuffed chairs by the window while he grades papers.

When the little bell above the door softly chimes as he walks in, he's happy to see that his favourite barista is behind the counter, studiously arranging the pastries. "Hi Edwin!" She chirps, and immediately sets to the task of hand-grinding the beans for his coffee.

“Hello, Niko, good afternoon.” Edwin smiles at her and looks for a seat, settling in with a cursory glance through the window. The smile falls from his face.

He's utterly confused, instead, looks around to see if anyone has noticed that this is happening, or if he's just imagining it. A little shake of his head doesn’t clear the vision; the sleek black and brown motorcycle parked next to the curb across from the café. The man sitting on the bench near it in the lightest definition of the word ‘sitting’, limbs spread akimbo across the furniture, head lolled back against the backrest.

"Quite weird, right? I gave him a cup of coffee to go, and then he didn’t actually go. He pretty much fell right to sleep on that bench. I don’t think that’s a good position to sleep in. But, he looked so tired I don't have the heart to disturb him. And nobody has passed that bench, the bike is turned off and parked legally, so I don't think anyone minds. Have you ever seen a bike like that? I like his jacket, so cool!" Niko smiles, retrieves his scone and reaches for a mug just as the coffee finishes brewing. Edwin thanks her, but holds up a hand, silently asking her to wait as he chooses another corner of the coffee shop, making sure he can keep the bench and its occupant in his line of vision, though he can't pin down exactly why.

Probably just the novelty of it all. Port Townsend was a town steeped in tradition, both in values and a clockwork year-round schedule. The town council kept everything pretty, decent, and calm. If Edwin was completely honest with himself, it was the reason he settled here.

He's interrupted from his wandering thoughts, when the sound of several high-pitched voices, barely audible over the loud clacking chorus of stiletto heels on well-maintained concrete reaches his ears.

Oh no. This is going to go really bad, really fast.

Edwin is out of his seat, ignoring Niko’s questioning little “Edwin?”, and heading for the door before he’s even consciously considered the decision. As soon as he’s greeted by the warm air outside, he’s also greeted by the sight of one Esther Finch, and several members of the Homeowner’s Association. When that calculating gaze locks on Edwin, and stays so, Edwin spares a thought, a quick mental note, that Monty must have been wrong about the star alignment. He does not feel particularly pleasantly surprised, at all.

#dead boy detectives #dbda #catwin #cat king #edwin payne #drabble #fanfiction #dbda fanfic #dbda au #au fanfic

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jcxbliss · 5 months ago

Text

Song Of The Deep

Pairing - Lee Seokmin (Siren) x Female Reader (Researcher)

Genre - Fantasy, Angst, 18+ Themes

Word Count - 8.7k

Warnings- Alcohol use, mentions of sexual encounters, sexual themes, no explicit consent

Author's Note -I appreciate it. Please Enjoy<3

(ANYONE CAN JOIN THE TAGLIST)

Tags: @hipsdofangirl

Rum Lips

Readers Point Of View

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. You awoke from a night of restless sleep, the remnants of your dream still fresh in your mind. Shaking off the lingering unease, you slipped out of bed and made your way to the mirror.

You were dressed in a blue, white, and pink floral summer dress that flared gently at the waist. The vibrant colors and delicate pattern brightened your mood. You adjusted a white headband, adorned with a small bow, and smiled at your reflection. The headband perfectly complemented your dress, adding a playful touch to your outfit.

Today was collectively decided to be a day off for the group, everyone made plans around the area to explore and would collectively all come together in the evening for dinner. While talking over the plans the night before at dinner Lucy and you decided to go pamper yourself and feel like locals in the area.

Just as you were finishing up, a sharp knock on the door startled you. A cheerful voice followed soon after.

“Hey, it’s Lucy!” came the call. “The car’s ready to go. Are you all set for our girls’ day out?”

You opened the door to find Lucy standing there with her usual infectious grin. She was dressed casually dawning a flowy pastel yellow teeshirt with a pair of light washed mom jeans and a white golfing cap to match. Her gray pulled back into a poney tail and her face was covered in a soft glam make up look. It seemed that she just had a bit of blush against the apple of her cheeks and some mascara. Lucy was truly a beautiful older women, she definitely was a stunner when she was in her twenties.

“Good morning!” Lucy said brightly. “I just wanted to make sure you’re ready. We’re heading to the farmers’ market, and I hear it’s going to be a blast.”

You smiled, feeling your spirits lift with her enthusiasm you where buzzing with excitement of your day off from work. “Morning, Lucy! I’m just about ready. Let me grab my bag and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Lucy gave you a thumbs-up and turned to head back to the front door. You quickly gathered your essentials, taking one last glance at your outfit in the mirror. The floral dress and white headband felt like the perfect choice for a day of exploring and indulging in fresh produce.

After a quick breakfast, the two of you set off out the door, the morning air cool and invigorating. The car parked outside was sleek and polished, a sharp contrast to the cozy, rustic feel of a farmers’ market. Lucy was chatting with the driver in Italian which was something you didn’t know she could speak.

You slid into the back seat, feeling the plush leather beneath you. The car began to move, and you looked out the window at the city waking up. Lucy’s animated chatter filled the car, her enthusiasm about the farmers’ market contagious.

As the car approached the farmers market, she turned around with a bright smile. “We’re going to have so much fun today. I can’t wait to check out all the fresh fruits, veggies, and maybe even some homemade goodies.”

“It’s going to be great,” Lucy continued, her eyes sparkling. “I’ve heard they have a lot of unique stalls and some really interesting local vendors. Plus, we can grab lunch from one of the food trucks. What do you think?”

You nodded, your own excitement growing. “That sounds perfect. I’ve been wanting to explore more local markets. I’m excited to see what we find.”

The car drove through the city streets, heading toward the farmers’ market. The day promised to be a delightful escape from the previous night’s concerns, and you couldn’t help but feel eager for the adventures and discoveries awaiting you.

As the car pulled up to the market, you could already see the bustle of activity and vibrant colors. The promise of fresh produce and artisanal treats added a layer of excitement to the day. Stepping out of the car, you joined Lucy with a shared sense of anticipation, ready to embrace the simple joys of the market and enjoy a fun-filled day together.

The car came to a gentle stop, and you and Lucy stepped out, greeted by the lively hum of the farmers’ market. The vibrant array of tents and stalls created a kaleidoscope of colors, with booths draped in cheerful fabrics and bustling with activity. The rich, earthy scent of fresh produce mingled with the aroma of baked goods and freshly brewed coffee, filling the air with an inviting warmth.

Lucy’s eyes grew big as she took in the scene taking ahold of your left arm and tugging on it like an excited kid in a candy store. “Look at this! It’s even better than I imagined. Where should we start?”

You looked around, taking in the sensory overload of sights and smells. “How about we start with the produce section? I’d love to see what kind of fresh fruits and vegetables they have.”

Lucy nodded enthusiastically, and the two of you made your way towards a stall brimming with colorful fruits and vegetables. Ripe tomatoes, plump peaches, and vibrant bell peppers created a feast for the eyes. The vendor, a cheerful woman with a broad smile, greeted you both warmly.

“Good morning! Feel free to sample anything you like,” the women said with the best English she could muster but you could understand most of it even through her thick accent. The vendor grabs something and begins to offer it to the two of you .“These are just picked this morning.” Looking closer at the basket you exam small red berries still connected with the green stems, unmistakenly strawberries.

You took a strawberry and plopped it between your lips, savoring its sweetness. The flavor was bright and fresh, a perfect start to your market adventure. Lucy sampled a few items as well, chatting with the vendor in the native language about her favorite recipes with the produce that they sell.

You took this moment to take a good look around, a sense of familiarity overwhelmed you and brought you back to your childhood. When you where younger your mother and you would go to the farmers market to explore what others in the neighborhood had grown. You were shy as a child, never wanting to stray to far from your mother side. You would never fail to take in how friendly everyone was though. In that place everyone knew everything about everyone. From who had a child recently to small minuscule things like your families famous dish.

As you wandered through the market, you encountered a variety of stalls—each offering something unique. Homemade jams, artisanal cheeses, and handcrafted soaps were just a few of the treasures you explored. You and Lucy made a game of finding the most interesting or unusual items, laughing and exchanging ideas for future meals.

“This cheese is incredible,” Lucy said, holding up a small wedge of creamy goat cheese. “We have to get some for the picnic.”

You nodded in agreement completely forgetting that the group planned to do a picnic for dinner instead of being stuck indoors for another night. “Definitely. And let’s grab a loaf of that freshly baked sourdough. It’ll go perfectly with the cheese.” Pointing to a stall about two away from where the two of you were standing.

After selecting a few goodies, you meandered over to a food truck offering an array of mouthwatering options. The smell of sizzling meat and savory spices wafted through the air, making your stomach growl in anticipation.

“What are you in the mood for?” Lucy asked, peering at the menu.

You glanced at the offerings, your eyes lighting up at the sight of a hearty, loaded veggie wrap. “I think I’m going to try the veggie wrap. It looks amazing.”

Lucy ordered a spicy chicken taco, and soon you were both sitting on a nearby bench, enjoying your lunch and soaking up the vibrant atmosphere of the market. The food was as delicious as it smelled, and you found yourself savoring each bite.

“This has been such a great day,” Lucy said, taking a satisfied bite of her taco. “I’m so glad we decided to do this.”

You agreed wholeheartedly, feeling a sense of contentment and relaxation. The farmers’ market had provided a welcome distraction and a chance to enjoy the simple pleasures of fresh food and good company.

As you finished your lunch, you decided to take one last stroll through the market. The time coming up to around three pm which is the same time the car should be coming back to pick you up and the boys should have gotten back to the homebase by now.

Just before you left, Lucy pulled you over to a small artisan stand selling handmade candles. The soft glow of the candles and their soothing scents were a perfect ending to the day.

“Look at these!” Lucy exclaimed, picking up a lavender-scented candle. “I think this one’s my favorite. You have to smell it!”

Lucy held out the candle with an eager smile, but as you brought it closer to your nose, a familiar, unwelcome sensation started to make itself known. Lavender had always been a trigger for your allergies, causing sneezing and discomfort.

“Oh, I’d love to, but I’m actually allergic to lavender,” you said, gently pushing the candle away. “It tends to make me sneeze and feel unwell.”

Lucy’s face fell slightly, but she quickly recovered. “Oh no, I didn’t realize! Let’s find something else then.”

She put the lavender candle back and picked up another one—a warm, vanilla scent that seemed to fill the air with a gentle, soothing aroma. “How about this one? It’s vanilla bean, and I think it’s wonderful.”

You took a tentative sniff and smiled in relief. The vanilla scent was pleasant and non-irritating. “This one is perfect. I’ll take it.”

Lucy added the vanilla candle to your small collection of market finds. As you made your final purchases and prepared to leave, you felt grateful for the thoughtful gesture and the enjoyable day you’d had. The market had been a refreshing change and a chance to relax and indulge in some much-needed retail therapy.

As you and Lucy headed back to the car, the vibrant energy of the market seemed to linger, providing a sense of fulfillment and contentment. The sun set behind you, casting a warm, orange glow across the horizon. You couldn’t help but smile, ready to end the day on a peaceful note and looking forward to relaxing at home.

The car ride home was filled with the pleasant hum of the engine and the soft glow of the late afternoon sun filtering through the windows. You were staring off into the distance watching as the beautiful landscape of Italy passes you by in a flash.

Lucy, turned to you with a friendly smile. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask since I don’t know much about you—how did you get into entomology? It seems like such a unique field.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of pride as you thought about your journey. “That’s a great question. It all started back on the farm, actually. I was always fascinated by the insects we encountered while working outside.”

Lucy leaned in, clearly interested. “Wait pause a farm, you do not seem like a farm person?”

You chuckled softly, recalling the early days. “Well, I lived in Idaho for majority of my life where my family owned a farm that was passed down from my grandparents on my dads side. So I was always surrounded by nature. I’d spend hours exploring the fields and the garden, observing the different bugs and critters. My older brother and I would often have little competitions to see who could find the most interesting insect.”

Lucy’s eyes widened with interest. “That sounds like a lot of fun. Did you have a favorite insect or one that particularly captured your interest?”

You nodded, thinking back to those formative experiences. “I’ve always had a soft spot for butterflies. There was something magical about their transformation from caterpillar to chrysalis and then to a butterfly. It was like witnessing a living miracle. It was a nice break from my older brother always bringing spiders and putting them on my bed.” You shudder at the thought of spiders.

“So, I am taking a shot in the dark here but I assume that is what lead you into entomology?” She said with a bit of sarcasm lacing her tone.

You smiled. “Exactly. I pursued a degree in entomology because I wanted to dive deeper into the science behind these creatures that had always fascinated me. I was drawn to the idea of understanding their roles in ecosystems and the incredible diversity of insects. It felt like a natural extension of the curiosity I’d had as a kid.”

Lucy leaned back, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Enough about work for now! I’d love to know more about you outside of the lab. What do you like to do for fun when you’re not working?”

You laughed softly, “Oh, there’s a lot to share! I love spending time outdoors, obviously—hiking, camping, and just enjoying nature whenever I can. I also have a bit of a knack for cooking, especially trying out new recipes with fresh ingredients.”

Lucy’s eyes lit up. “Cooking? That’s awesome! Do you have a favorite dish or type of cuisine you enjoy making?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “I really enjoy baking bread. There’s something almost meditative about the process. My mother taught me when I was younger how to make all different kinds of breads, my favorite was blueberry zucchini bread. I always wanted to help but hated shredding the zucchini because I would slice open my knuckle but the actual bread.” You kiss your fingertips, “Chiefs kiss.”

“That sounds delicious. I’d love to try some of your cooking sometime!” Lucy comments.

“Maybe one day you can try some, but I can’t promise it is going to be a five star meal.” You glance down at your hands having a habit of rubbing your thumbs together in a self soothing manor.

You never liked to talk about yourself. Sometimes it feels like you are oversharing, or your life isn’t interesting enough. Which in a way was true, you grew up on a farm with a happy family that all are doing great for themselves. You went to a little college left with a degree had a few relationships that ended in a mutual split. Then you went on with your life now you work at an university studying bugs, (which isn’t a bad thing). You have lived a simple but boring life.

Feeling a slight vibration coming from your bag that is sitting on your lap you open it and begin digging through it after a moment you find your phone and pull it out. Unlocking your phone you click open the notification to see that it is from your childhood friend Isebella.

Isebella: Hey, I just found out from your mom that you’re in Italy? Really? Why am I the last to know?

---

You: Hey Ise! I’m so sorry! Things have been a bit crazy with the research, and I didn’t mean to leave you out. I should have updated you sooner.

---

Isebella:Oh, no worries! I’m just pretending to be mad. I mean, Italy sounds amazing. How’s it going?

---

You: Haha, you got me there. It’s actually been incredible. The research is intense, but the country is beautiful. I’ve got so many stories to share.

---

Isebella: I’m sure you do! I want all the details. What’s the best part of Italy so far?

---

You: Honestly, the food is out of this world. And the scenery is just breathtaking. I’ve been trying to make the most of my free time exploring.

---

Isebella: Sounds like you’re having a blast. I’m only pretending to be upset because I miss our chats. But I’m really happy for you!

---

You: I miss our chats too! Let’s set up a time to catch up properly. How about a video call sometime this week?

---

Isebella: Definitely! Thursday evening work for you? I want to hear all about your adventures.

---

You: Perfect! Thursday it is. Can’t wait to fill you in on everything.

---

Isebella: Awesome. And just so you know, next time, give me a heads-up before you jet off to another country, okay?

---

You: Absolutely. Thanks for being understanding. I’ll make sure to keep in touch better.

---

Isebella: No problem. Talk soon and enjoy every moment in Italy!

---

You: Will do! Talk to you soon, Isa.

During your messaging between Isebella and you tried your best to listen to Lucy go through her hobbies. As she had took it upon herself to tell you her life story.

Lucy smiled, her eyes twinkling with enthusiasm. “Well, when I’m not buried in research or out in the field, I have a few passions of my own. I’ve recently taken up gardening. It’s been a bit of a haven for me—tending to plants, especially those that attract butterflies and bees, feels like a natural extension of my work. Plus, it’s incredibly relaxing to watch a garden flourish.”

She chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “And I have a soft spot for old films. There’s something about the classic black-and-white movies that I find both comforting and inspiring. It’s a nice way to unwind and escape into a different era.”

Lucy’s gaze softened as she continued, “So, between gardening and movies, I guess I manage to balance out the intense days spent studying insects. It’s all about finding those little pockets of joy, right?”

As you approached the final stretch leading to the seaside retreat, the view of the sparkling ocean greeted you, signaling that you were almost home.

Upon arriving, you and Lucy quickly gathered your bags and headed inside the charming bed and breakfast. The interior, with its cozy nautical décor and inviting atmosphere, felt like a warm embrace after a day out. You set your bags down by the front desk, where a welcoming note from the owners awaited you.

Just then, two figures emerged from the sitting area. Azail, just offered a polite nod as you entered making his way towards you and grabbing two of the bags from your left hand.

“Welcome back,” Azail said softly, his voice gentle and measured.

Beside him stood Seokmin, who made his way over to lucy and grabbing some other bags from her. “Hey there! It’s great to see you both again! How was the market? Did you find anything exciting?”

You couldn’t help but return Seokmin’s enthusiasm with a smile of your own. “We did! We picked up some amazing fresh produce and cheeses..”

Lucy turned to Azail and Seokmin with a warm smile. “It’s great to see you both. We’re planning a relaxing evening with the market goodies and would love for you guys to join us if you’re free.”

Seokmin’s face brightened even more. “Absolutely, I’d love to! Azail might take a little more convincing, but I’m sure he’ll enjoy it too.”

Seokmin’s eyes lit up. “That sounds fantastic! I’d love to help out with anything if you need it. Just let me know!”

Azail gave a small nod of approval in Seokmin’s direction, his expression remaining more reserved but genuinely interested. “Thank you for the invitation. I’d be happy to join.”

After chatting a bit and unloading the items from the market from the bag Lucy decides to delegate task in the group.

“Seokmin you stay in here with Y/N and help make everything pretty, make sure you do everything she says.” Lucy said while pointing at him while he stands at attention and salutes her.

“Yes captain,” Seokmin says and slides over to your side before leaning down to your height, “She is kind of scary when she gets like this.” Seokmin whispers into your ear causing you to cough out a laugh before pushing against him to get him to stand straight.

“Azail you can help me set up outside to make it look as pretty as possible.” Lucy grabs onto Azail’s arm before he can respond and begins to drag him out of the kitchen to look for everything they may need for the outdoor.

As they leave you and Seokmin begin to work on different task, you instructed him to find a board and begin cutting some tomatoes while you work on something else.

You begin to hone into the task at hand which was slicing cucumbers when you suddenly feel a sharp pain. Looking down, you see a small cut on your finger, blood beginning to trickle.

“Ow!” you exclaim, dropping the knife onto the cutting board.

Seokmin immediately looks up from chopping tomatoes. “What happened?”

“I cut myself,” you say, holding your finger up with a wince.

“Let me see.” Seokmin moves over quickly, his expression turning serious as he inspects the cut. “It’s not too deep, but we should get it cleaned up.”

You try to laugh it off. “Guess I shouldn’t be trusted with sharp objects.”

“First it is walking and now it is cutting is there any task you can do safely,” Seokmin grins, a playful glint in his eye. “Do you know if there is a first aid kit here, I haven’t order the one just for you yet since I didn’t think we would need it this soon.”

You nod towards the cupboard. “It’s somewhere in there, but it might take a while to find.”

“Don’t worry,” Seokmin says, starting to search through the cabinet. “I’ll find it in no time. It’s like a treasure hunt now.”

As he rummages, he adds, “So, while I dig up our legendary kit, why don’t you tell me how you managed to cut your finger in the most dramatic way possible?”

You chuckle, despite the sting. “I was concentrating so hard on making perfect slices that I forgot to watch where my fingers were. Lesson learned.”

Seokmin emerges triumphantly with a small first aid kit. “Behold, the mythical first aid kit!” he announces with a flourish. He makes his way back to you, setting the first aid kit down he outstretches his hand to you for you to take. Hesitantly you place your hand into his the size difference not going unnoticed by you. Seokmin gently takes it and opens the first aid kit and begins to carefully cleans your cut and applies a bandage with practiced ease.

“There, all better,” he says, giving you a reassuring smile. “See? It was worth the hype.”

You grin, feeling both relieved and grateful. “Thanks, Seokmin. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Anytime,” he replies, closing the kit and setting it aside. “Now, let’s finish up and join Lucy and Azail outside before they think we’ve abandoned them.”

You and Seokmin wrap up the final preparations in the kitchen, putting the last few items into the picnic basket.

“Alright, I think we’re almost ready,” Seokmin says, carefully stacking the last few containers. “How about we set up the picnic board and then head out?”

“Sounds good,” you reply, arranging a few more utensils on the board.

With everything packed and the board neatly arranged, you both head outside. As you walk toward the beach, the gentle sea breeze cools the air, carrying with it the distant sound of waves and seagulls. The sight that greets you is more than you anticipated.

Lucy and Azail have turned a simple beach setup into something magical. The blanket is spread out perfectly on the sand, decorated with soft pillows and blankets that make it look like a cozy nest. Lanterns are hung from a nearby tree, casting a soft, golden light that contrasts beautifully with the fading daylight. A low wooden table holds an assortment of delicious foods, and a few candles flicker gently, adding to the ambiance.

“This looks incredible,” you say, taking in the scene with a smile. “You guys really went all out.”

Lucy waves at you, her face lit up with pride. “We couldn’t let you two have all the fun making the board. Besides, it’s the perfect way to end a day of amazing adventures.”

Azail stands up, brushing sand off his hands. “Glad you’re here! We were starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost in the kitchen.” He chimes in and grabs the board from your hands so you could sit down on the blanket

Seokmin laughs. “No chance of that! We had a little kitchen mishap, but all sorted now. Thanks to my heroic first aid skills.”

Lucy raises an eyebrow playfully. “Heroic, huh? Did you save the day?”

“Absolutely,” Seokmin replies with a grin. “And I made sure the legendary first aid kit lived up to its reputation.”

Azail and Lucy pass glances back and forth about Seokmin’s comment before just brushing it off and everyone settles down into their spots.

The sky starts to paint itself with hues of orange and pink, the sun setting over the horizon and reflecting its warm colors across the water.

“Perfect timing,” you comment, looking around at the beautiful setup and the sunset. “This is exactly what I needed.” You say as you stretch your legs out and let out a sigh.

Azail nods in agreement while he looks around at the sky laying back into blanket on a pillow behind him.. “It’s moments like these that make everything worthwhile.”

Lucy uncorks a bottle of red wine that she had picked out at the market and hands out glasses that Seokmin had brought out in case you were to have a third mishap. “Who’s ready for a toast?” she asks pouring generous amounts of red liquid into the cups and delegating them to the group.

“Absolutely!” Seokmin grabs the second glass from Lucy, raising his glass. “Here’s to perfect evenings and even better company.”

Everyone clinks glasses after everyone gets theirs glass, and the sparkling cider is poured generously. You take a sip, savoring the crisp, refreshing taste that immediately begins to lift your spirits. The burn slipping down your throat giving you a sense of sitting by a fire with your eyes closed savoring the taste Seokmin leans closer, his voice playful.

“Looks like you’re enjoying the wine,” he says with a smirk. “I’d say it suits you.”

You laugh, feeling the warmth of the alcohol mix with your own blush. “Oh, really?” Your lips reconnect with the glass as you take another swig of it. “I heard a rumor once going around the entomology building about a wild night you had with a group involving a little bit of whiskey.” You lean closer to him, “Something about you being a light weight and running around a camp without a shirt.” You whisper under your breath with a laugh before looking over at him.

Seokmin’s eyes twinkle as he sips his drink. “Guilty as charged, but what they won’t tell you is that I only ran around because I was dared to. I guess you can say that the liquid gold, or in this case.” He raises his wine glass a bit, “Liquid Ruby, makes me braver, brave enough to tell you that you look stunning.”

You raise an eyebrow, a flirtatious grin spreading across your face. “Is that so?.”

He shrugs his shoulders in a nonchalant way without his eyes straying from Lucy and Azail he replies, his voice low and smooth. “I have to say, you’re making it hard to focus on anything other than how amazing you look right now.”

“I think it is time to take away your glass,” You comment trying to not let the boldness of his words affect you as much as they clearly do. Your cheeks and ears do all the talking, though it could be written off as the wine kicking in. Fanning your face a bit you try and find some relief in the hot mess you were feeling.

Before he can respond, Lucy leans in with curiosity. “What are you two talking about?”

You quickly interject, trying to downplay the situation. “Oh, nothing important.”

With a sigh of relief, you finish your glass and set it aside. “Could I get a refill of the red wine, please?” you ask.

As your glass is refilled with the red wine, you take a grateful sip turning to Azail. “So, where did your adventure take you today?”

Azail’s smile widens. “I explored a few of the lesser-known ruins outside of town. There’s a beautiful old abbey hidden in the hills that I’ve been wanting to see. The views were breathtaking.”

Lucy’s eyes light up with interest. “That sounds amazing! Did you find anything interesting?”

Azail nods enthusiastically. “Yes, actually. I stumbled upon some ancient frescoes that aren’t in any of the usual guidebooks. It felt like I was discovering a piece of history that’s been forgotten.”

You lean in, intrigued. “That sounds incredible. I wish I’d joined you. How was the rest of your day?”

Azail shrugs with a chuckle. “After the abbey, I wandered through a few local markets and had lunch at a quaint little trattoria. The food was fantastic—authentic and full of flavor.”

Lucy’s eyes widen. “I’ve heard about some great places in town. What did you have?”

“Homemade pasta with a wild mushroom sauce,” Azail says, his expression reflective. “It was one of the best meals I’ve had in a while.”

Turning to Seokmin, who had been quietly listening, Azail asks, “And what about you, Seokmin? How did you spend your day off?”

Seokmin smiles, clearly content. “I stayed behind and enjoyed the beach. It was incredibly relaxing—just what I needed. I spent most of the day soaking up the sun, reading a bit, and taking in the sea breeze. It was a perfect escape until everyone got home.”

Lucy nods appreciatively. “That sounds like a great way to unwind. Sometimes the simplest pleasures are the best.” Lucy suddenly brightens. “Oh, I almost forgot! I brought something for us to share.” She stands up from the picnic blanket with a grin. “I’ll be right back.”

Moments later, she returns from the house, carrying a bottle of Enoteca Gambi rum and a few shot glasses. “I thought it would be fun to celebrate our day off with a little game,” she says, setting everything down on the picnic blanket she sits down with a soft thud.

Azail raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “A game? What did you have in mind?”

Lucy’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “How about a round of ‘Never Have I Ever’ with a twist? Every time someone shares something they haven’t done, they take a shot.”

As the bottle of Enoteca Gambi is uncorked and the shot glasses are arranged, you take a deep breath, a hint of hesitation in your voice. “I don’t know, Lucy. I think we might be a bit too old for ‘Never Have I Ever.’ Maybe we should just enjoy the wine and relax.” Pointing over to the half drank bottle of wine that was opened.

Seokmin, catching the enthusiasm in Lucy’s eyes, quickly chimes in with a playful grin. “Come on, it’ll be fun! We could use a little excitement, and it’s not like we have to take it too seriously. Plus, it’s a great way to learn more about each other and make some memorable moments.”

He gestures toward the setup with a laugh. “Let’s give it a shot—literally. It’s all in good fun, and I promise we’ll keep it light and entertaining.”

You glance around at the eager faces of your friends, feeling the infectious energy of the group. With a reluctant smile, you nod. “Alright, you’ve convinced me. Let’s see where this takes us.” You finish off the last sip that is in your wine glass.

Lucy beams as she pours the first round of shots. “Perfect! Here’s to a night of fun and new stories!”

The group raises their glasses, and the game begins.

Lucy raises her shot glass with a mischievous grin. “Alright, let’s get this party started! Who wants to go first?”

Azail volunteers, a smirk on his face. “I’ll go. Never have I ever been skydiving.”

Everyone laughs, and you watch as everyone else takes a sip of their wine, leaving you as the only one to take a shot. With a resigned sigh, you lift your glass. The Enoteca Gambi is a rich, deep red with hints of cherry and oak, its aroma promising warmth and complexity.

You take the shot, and the liquor’s robust flavor coats your mouth. It’s smooth and velvety with an undercurrent of spice, leaving a warming sensation that spreads from your throat to your chest. The initial bite of the alcohol is sharp, but it quickly mellows into a pleasing aftertaste of dark berries and a touch of chocolate.

Seokmin, clearly enjoying the game, leans in. “Alright, my turn. Never have I ever swum in a natural hot spring.”

Everyone but you takes a sip of their wine again. You grumble good-naturedly as you take another shot, the liquor now making you feel a bit more flushed. The Enoteca Gambi’s flavors are even more pronounced this time, a little sweeter with a richer finish. It’s starting to create a pleasant buzz, warming you from the inside out.

Lucy, watching you closely. “. Never have I ever sung karaoke in public.”

Once again, you’re the only one to take a shot. This time, the liquor’s taste seems to dance on your palate with a more pronounced hint of vanilla, complementing the lingering warmth in your chest. The alcohol is having a more noticeable effect, making your cheeks flush and your laughter come easier. Are you truly the only one who has never lived? Sky diving, hot air balloons, karaoke? If this was played normally you would be fine, having lived a simple life would have been perfect. Instead it felt ridiculous that you are so out of place

Seeing your slight tipsiness, Seokmin can’t help but tease. “Looks like you’re having a bit of a rough night, huh?”

You laugh, feeling the effects of the game. “Seems like it. Maybe I should start targeting everyone else.”

Lucy claps her hands together, clearly delighted.” Good luck seems like you are the only one who is truly a recluse. To be far on our friend here-” Lucy gestures to you, “Let’s just go back to the original way to play, if you have done it take a sip, good with everyone?” She gains a few nods and claps her hands together. “Okay resume.”

“Okay, my turn. Never have I ever participated in a high-stakes game of any kind.” You know it is a lame one but you couldn’t think of anything else.

The group falls silent as everyone looks around, and only Azail reaches for his shot glass, taking a deliberately slow sip. He sets the glass down, a hint of color rising to his cheeks.

Lucy’s eyes light up with curiosity. “What’s the deal with this game?” One thing you have noticed about Lucy is that she is incredibly nosey. Always wanting to know something about someone.

Azail lets out a small chuckle, clearly preparing to share. “ A few years ago, I was involved in a poker game with some very high-profile players. It wasn’t just about the money—it was more about the stakes and the players.”

You lean in, intrigued. At this point you were feeling warm and fuzzy, your thoughts were still coherent but you seemed more relaxed and willing to talk. “A high-stakes game? What was that like? A bunch of sweaty men in a room circle jerking each other to prove they are the best at getting the luck of the draw?”

Azail leans back, a thoughtful expression on his face. “It was intense and no we did not circle jerk each other. We were playing in a private, invite-only game, with huge sums of money on the line. The atmosphere was electric, and the competition was fierce. I had to stay sharp and keep my cool under pressure.”

Seokmin’s eyes widen with interest. “Did you win or lose big?”

Azail grins, though there’s a hint of modesty in his voice. “I managed to come out ahead, but it was touch and go for a while. There were some moments where it felt like the game could turn in any direction. It was one of those experiences where you’re on the edge of your seat the whole time.”

Lucy leans in, clearly fascinated. “That sounds like an adrenaline rush! Did you learn any interesting strategies or tricks from that experience?”

Azail nods, a smile on his lips. “Definitely. I learned a lot about reading people and staying calm under pressure. It was a great lesson in both strategy and psychology.”

“No wonder why you are always laying back and watching, you are judging us silently. I knew it!” You accused pointing your finger at him in a joking way.

Lucy raises her glass and leans forward. “Never have I ever been caught in a truly embarrassing situation with someone I was interested in.”

The group exchanges curious glances, and Seokmin, looking slightly apprehensive but determined, throws the shot back. He sets the glass down and glances around, a sheepish grin on his face.

Lucy’s eyes widen with interest. “What happened?”

‘Nosey Nelly’ You think to yourself before looking off to the side playing with your glass in your hand.

Seokmin chuckles, clearly a bit embarrassed but willing to dive in. “ A few years ago, I was dating someone I was really excited about. We had planned a fancy evening out at a high-end restaurant. I wanted to impress them, so I went all out—dressed to the nines and even booked a table with a spectacular view.” Seokmin laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, the evening started off great, but then things took a turn. I ordered a bottle of wine that I thought would be impressive. It turned out to be much older and more expensive than I anticipated. The waiter brought it out, and I was trying to sound knowledgeable when I inadvertently knocked the bottle over, spilling wine all over the table and my date’s elegant dress.”

Lucy gasps, her eyes widening. “Oh no! That’s awful!” Her words are followed by a clasp of her hand over her mouth to be dramatic.

Seokmin nods, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “But it gets better. In my panic to clean up, I slipped and fell right into the waiter who was bringing our dessert. The entire tray of desserts ended up flying through the air and landing right on top of us.It was pretty chaotic, but we both ended up laughing. The restaurant’s staff was incredibly understanding and ended up comping our meal and offering us a private room to finish the evening. It was one of those cringe-worthy moments that turned into a memorable and surprisingly fun story.”

At this point, two realizations struck you as you listened to Seokmin’s story, the liquor”s effects adding a haze to your thoughts. First, you regretted teasing Seokmin about being a lightweight. Here you were, feeling a bit tipsy yourself. Second, seeing him take a shot after that question stung more than expected—almost like jealousy. Just less than an hour ago, he’d been flirting with you, and now he was talking about another woman. The fact that you cared about this was baffling. Seokmin was merely a coworker. Why did it bother you that he seemed interested in someone else? It was ridiculous. He was nobody to you.

Before you could delve deeper into these thoughts, Lucy’s voice interrupted with a yawn. “Well, it’s been a fantastic evening, but I think I am going to call it a night.”

Azail stretched and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’m feeling the call of the bed myself. You two enjoy the rest of the night.”

“Sounds good,” you said, waving them off. “Thanks for setting up such a lovely picnic.”

Lucy gave you a sleepy smile. “Anytime. We’ll leave you two to enjoy the sunset and whatever the evening brings.”

As Lucy and Azail headed inside, Seokmin turned his full attention back to you. He shifted a little closer, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone.

“So, now that we have the blanket all to ourselves…” he began, his eyes locking onto yours with a playful glint. “How about we make the most of this perfect evening? I promise I’ll be on my best behavior… or at least make an effort.”

You felt a pleasant flutter at his words, the effects of the rum making the moment feel more charged. Screw the thoughts you had before about his story. All that mattered right now is that he is here and he is giving you the attention you didn’t know you were craving. “Oh? And what exactly do you have in mind, Mr. Charm?”

Seokmin’s grin widened as he leaned in slightly. “Well, I was thinking we could continue enjoying the view and maybe share a few more secrets. With the stars out and the waves crashing, it’s the perfect setting for a bit of magic.”

You nudged him playfully. “You’re quite the smooth talker. But I have to admit, it does sound tempting.”

As you both settled into the pillows, the night sky above was covered in a blanket of stars. Seokmin’s presence felt warm and comforting beside you, and the relaxed atmosphere of the evening invited more intimate conversations.

You decided to break the silence, you decide to sit up, turning slightly to face Seokmin. “Hey, I know it’s a bit off-topic, but I’ve been wondering… was the girl from your story pretty?”

Seokmin glanced at you, and for a moment, a hint of amusement flickered in his eyes before he offered a reassuring smile. “She was, actually. Really charming and attractive. But honestly, she’s long gone from my life and my mind. Just a fleeting chapter, really.”

You felt a wave of relief, though you weren’t sure why you were feeling this way. “It sounds like it was a memorable evening, though.”

Seokmin nodded, his gaze steady and comforting. “It was. It had its moments, but it’s all in the past now. The important thing is that we’re here, in this moment.”

You looked out at the horizon, trying to process his words. “I guess it’s nice to know that some things are just part of our past.”

Seokmin’s eyes softened as he turned to you. “Exactly. Sometimes, we just need to let go of the past and focus on what’s right in front of us.”

His words seemed to have an unspoken subtext, and you appreciated his effort to ease your mind. “You’re right. And I have to admit, I’m enjoying this moment with you.”

Seokmin sat up and turned to face him, his hand brushing against yours as he spoke softly. “You know, it’s moments like these that remind me of what really matters. Being present, sharing stories, and just enjoying the company we’re with.”

You turned to face him fully, your heart fluttering slightly at the closeness. “I couldn’t agree more. This evening has been incredible.”

Seokmin’s gaze held yours, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade away. The way his eyes sparkled in the moonlight, the warmth of his smile, and the sincerity in his voice made the atmosphere feel electric. The gentle touch of his hand against yours felt like a promise of something more.

He slowly moved a bit closer, the space between you diminishing until you could feel the soft warmth of his breath. His hand gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek. The touch was tender and affectionate, sending a shiver down your spine.

Seokmin’s voice was barely above a whisper. “There’s something magical about tonight, don’t you think?”

You nodded, unable to pull your gaze away from his. “Absolutely.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, Seokmin leaned in closer. His lips brushed softly against yours, a gentle, hesitant touch that was both tender and electrifying. The kiss was brief at first, as if he was testing the waters, but the sensation was enough to make your heart race.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. There was a hint of vulnerability in his gaze, as if he was waiting for your response.

Encouraged by the warmth and sincerity in his eyes, you leaned in, closing the remaining distance between you. This time, the kiss was deeper and more confident. Seokmin’s lips moved against yours with a tenderness that spoke of deep affection. His hands gently framed your face, his touch both comforting and passionate.

The kiss deepened, becoming a dance of shared emotions and unspoken desires. His lips were warm and soft, and the taste of the cider lingered between you, adding to the sweetness of the moment. You could feel the softness of his breath mingling with yours, and his touch seemed to melt away any lingering reservations.

As the kiss continued, Seokmin’s hands moved to rest gently on your back, pulling you slightly closer. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat syncing with your own. The world around you seemed to fall away, leaving only the sensation of his kiss and the gentle caress of the evening breeze.

When the kiss finally broke, you both pulled back slightly, your foreheads resting gently against each other. The connection between you felt more profound than before, and the warmth of the moment lingered in the air.

As you gazed into his eyes, the intense connection made you want more. The way his lips had felt against yours, the softness, and the warmth left you craving another taste of that intimacy. You could hardly believe how perfect the moment was and how much you wanted to extend it.

Without breaking eye contact, you leaned in again, closing the space between you with a renewed sense of anticipation. Seokmin’s eyes widened slightly in surprise but quickly softened with understanding.

You pressed your lips to his once more, this time with a deeper, more fervent kiss. The kiss was filled with the desire and affection that had been building between you, a melding of emotions that seemed to make the stars shine even brighter. Seokmin responded with equal passion, his hands sliding back to hold you closer, pulling you into the embrace with a gentle but firm touch.

The kiss was slow and deliberate, a dance of mutual longing and connection. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the tender pressure of his lips, and the comforting rhythm of his breathing. Each touch, each caress felt like a reaffirmation of the feelings that had been bubbling under the surface all evening.

As you both lost yourselves in the kiss, the world around you seemed to disappear. The gentle waves continued their rhythmic dance, and the cool night air carried the sweet scent of the surrounding flowers, enhancing the intimacy of the moment. The connection between you was electrifying, and every second of the kiss felt like it was stretching time itself.

When was the last time you kissed someone else?

The last time you can think you kissed someone was a few years ago when you had a drunken one night stand with a man. What was his name? Sonyoung? Soonyoung? Pathetic you can only remember the stupid name he wanted to be called, Hoshi.

It really has been that long, you can’t even remember the guys name, you don’t remember what he tasted like. I mean how could you when your lips have just met with Seokmin’s?

You could never forget how he taste, like chocolate mixed with the sting of rum. How his lips felt plump and soft against yours, how when your lips moved together it felt like the world melted away. It was addicting how he felt against you. The two of you fell together like one weird puzzle piece. Somewhere along the liplocking you managed to climb into his lap caging him below you.

Your fingers entangled into Seokmin’s hair, the sensation was both soothing and intimate. His hair felt remarkably soft and smooth, each strand slipping easily through your fingertips like fine silk. The texture was luxurious, with a slight natural wave that added a gentle bounce and movement to your touch.

The warmth of his hair contrasted pleasantly with the cool night air, and as you brushed your fingers through it, you could feel the gentle warmth of his scalp beneath. The strands were thick and resilient, yet still pliable, responding to your touch with a soft, yielding quality. The sensation of his hair against your skin was comforting, adding a tactile dimension to the intimacy of the moment.

As your fingers explored his hair, you could feel the subtle vibrations of his breathing and the slight tremors of his movements. The soft noises leaving his mouth as you kissed only sent electricity through your body. His hands eventually found solace on your hips, he gripped them tightly as if you would slip away from him if he didn’t hold you down there.

Eventually, you slowly pulled away, your breath caught in your throat. Your left hand lifts to gently press against your lips. Seokmin looked up at you with big bright eyes, you had something he wanted. Something that you didn’t know you could give him.

His right hand travels up your side before he rests it against your cheek brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear to get a better look at you. In this same action you lowered your hand to rest against his chest feeling the firmness.

Holy shit…

“Please,” He pleaded in a low voice as he places a thumb against your bottom lip.

“Please what Seokmin,” You question, you knew what he wanted but you needed him to say it. You needed him to confirm your suspicion.

He leans closer to your ear and says “Let me ruin you,” His voice dropped four octaves lower as he tugs on your bottom lip that he was playing with before. “Let me show you that no one will be as good as me,’ Seokmin adds in before nipping at your neck causing you to let out a yelp of surprise.

You know you shouldn’t do this, you know that he is a coworker, a man who has given you the bare minimal attention. A kind soul who would never hurt anyone. Though maybe it is the alcohol finally capturing your self control. Or the filthy words he spoke in such confidence.

The hand that once rested against his chest trailed its way you all the way to his throat before you wrap your fingers around it.

“I’d like to see you try,” Your voice matches his energy the suggestive tone coming almost naturally to you as you give his throat a gentle squeeze.

#lee seokmin #dk x reader #dk x y/n #seventeen #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt dk #dk x you #seokmin x reader

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gremlin-girly · 7 days ago

Text

Day 8: Sparkling Snow

Pairing: Zemo x f!reader (MCU)

Warnings/Tags: FLUFF, established (secret) relationship, suggestive themes, just lovey-doveyness, pet names (Vrajiatore), Zemo is a gentleman

Summary: You tell your friends that you're headed to Germany for the holidays as a treat to yourself. Little do they know that you're off to see your favourite Sokovian Baron.

word count: 1.8k

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be translated, copied or reposted or put through an AI machine.

A/N: This is a direct follow on from Flufftober 17 🥰 I kinda love these two... maybe we need another part? 👀 There is a second part that will be linked in an author's note under the cut. Sorry this is late, some unexpected plans popped up yesterday so I couldn't finish editing all of the fics - Love, Grem x

Dividers by: @/cafekitsune

Translations: Vrajiatore (meaning witch/enchantress)

Prev | Next | Flufftober 2024 | Masterlist @fluff-cember

When anyone asked your plans for the holidays, inviting you to after-work drinks or their holiday meals in December you had politely declined, saying you had booked yourself a holiday to Germany to see the sights and Christmas Markets.

Everyone seemed pleased with this answer, although you felt guilty for feeding them half truths. They wouldn't really get it and, in fact, may even try and stop you. But then again, when does ' I'm visiting my ex-terrorist, rich Sokovian boyfriend' ever really roll off the tongue?

Zemo had been the one to organise your trip. With the dust finally settled and him in one location, he desperately wanted to see you again; which of course meant sending your one-way first-class ticket to Germany to you via post attached to one of his letters.

At first, you wanted to say no. The trouble it would cause if Sam and Bucky found out. Finding the time to take off work and come up with a suitable lie for your friends and family as to why you wouldn't be around for the holidays making anxiety bubble in your stomach. But the moment you held the tickets between your fingers, you knew you had to see him again.

The tickets were for an open return; Zemo had said in his letter he didn't want you to feel like he was keeping you hostage and that, should you choose to come there was a bed waiting for you, and the moment you wanted to head home you could.

With the only firm date being the outbound flight, you realised that you would have plenty of time to explore and plenty of time to spend with the Baron and you weren't sure which made your heart skip more.

You confirmed your flight before writing back.

It shouldn't have surprised you that you flew first class. Or that Zemo had pre-ordered champagne for your flight. What was surprising, however, was being greeted by a chauffeur.

"Madam L/N," The old man had grinned at you on your approach, setting aside a very pristine piece of A4 paper with your name scrawled on. "The baron sends his regards. He unfortunately cannot enter because -"

You hold up a hand with a soft smile. "No need to explain. I know."

The old man continued to smile as he took your bags, despite arguing you could carry your own, and led you to the car. On the drive to Zemo's family home, you find out the man's name is Oeznik and he has served the Zemo family all his life, having helped raise Helmut (your Zemo) as a baby. You hoped it had been the jet lag when you felt your head swim; first-class and chauffers were already leagues from your day-to-day living but butlers?

The air was crisp when the car finally pulled into a long drive way, the peak of a mansion barely visible over the trees. You scooted forward on the leather car seat, awe-struck at the giant home before you.

"This manor has been in the family for generations," Oeznik says, sounding as awe-struck as you felt, as if he were seeing the house for the first time too. "Helmut grew up here, though it has just been myself and Ms. Anstrom - the head maid - who have been living here until recently."

"Riiiiight." You say quietly, your breath condensing against the window. As soon as you begin to think that this was a terrible idea, that Bucky and Sam should rightly drag you back home for, you see him.

The car is all but parked when your door is flung open and Helmut Zemo stands before you. The excitement radiating from him is palpable and infectious; you're already unbuckling your seatbelt and beaming up at him.

"Vrăjitore," Zemo greeted politely, trying to contain his excitement behind a soft smile. Even though it had been months since you last saw him in person, he hadn't changed much. Clean shaven, soft chestnut hair that was only a little bit longer and those ridiculously enchanting brown eyes that still glimmered when he looked at you. The scent of his cologne travelled to gently caress your nostrils and you felt like a cartoon character floating after the smell of a pie placed precariously on a windowsill.

He offers you a hand, helping you out of the car as Oeznik goes to grab your suitcase and travel bag from the trunk. Zemo raises your hands to lips and placed sweet whispers of kisses against your knuckles that made your heart swoon.

"I trust you had a good flight, yes?"

Your answer was to pull him in close into a tight hug, relishing the scent of him, relishing him entirely. Letters didn't come close to having the real thing before you.

"Yes," you say into his coat, grinning when you felt his arms encase you to him. "I can't believe you had champagne served to me on the flight."

"The least I could do." He chuckles lightly. "You can't fly first class without it."

"I've not been here a day and you're already spoiling me." You peek up from where you're hidden against his chest and grin. "You're setting and awfully dangerous precedent."

Helmut cups your cheeks and places a quick kiss to your lips, opting not to answer your tease. "I'll show you around the house first so you can get acquainted with your surroundings. Then we can eat if you're hungry?"

Nodding your head, you follow Zemo up the stone steps and through the large oak doors, waving a quick goodbye to Oeznik.

The manor is exactly as you'd imagined it to be. The velvet carpets can't find the fact they are worn in some places, nor the cold air that seeps through the wooden flooring that has that dusty old house smell. The windows are thin and creak at every meager breath of wind and you feel a little idiotic for thinking two older people could easily run the upkeep of the estate. However, there is still a charm to the old house. The parts that were more lived in, like the kitchen and living room were pristine.

No cobwebs excepts for the chandeliers, no dust bunnies buried in the corners, and even the big beast of a portrait of Zemo's great grandfather above the fireplace looked like it had just walked out of a gallery.

When you finally climb the long staircase upstairs, munching the cookie Ms. Anstrom thrust into your hands when you visited the kitchen, you have to pause. Downstairs may have been a little worse for wear but the upstairs... you felt like you had just waltzed onto the set of Bridgerton.

You walk down a never ending hallway, Zemo showing you the gorgeous large bathroom, drawing room and one of several guest rooms before stopping at the final one at the end of the hallway.

"This will be your room." He gestures you in first and like the other guest rooms it's huge. Big bay windows show the frosted Christmas Card-esque grounds outside. Unlike the other rooms, however, your bed has soft, silken fitted sheets that you'd dread to guess the price of. As you walk the floors creak slightly but when you take a quick inhale there's no musty smell; it actually smells like a mixture of lavender and vanilla.

"Wow." You say trying to take it all in, doing a short 360-twirl in the centre of the room. "It's..."

But then, you blink at him. Perhaps it was a bit presumptuous of you to think you'd be sleeping in the same bed together; after all, this was technically the second time you'd seen eachother. You could feel a blush rising as you clear your throat.

"If it's not to your liking then there are several others to choose from as you've seen." Helmut adds, watching you with a smile. "I can ask Ms. Anstrom to move the bed sheets if-"

"No! - no. This is... great." You blurt quickly and give him a sheepish smile. "It's perfect, really."

His gentlemanly behaviour never ceased to amaze (and woo) you. Perhaps it would be better take everything one small step at a time.

"Excellent." Zemo offers you his hand and a kind smile makes his cheeks dimple. "My room is just across the hall so I won't be far. Now, I believe you've been dragged around enough, food should be served shortly."

Dinner came and went; the vibrant, warm chatter between yourself and Helmut was added to by Oeznik and Ms. Anstrom; who very kindly shared stories and pictures of Helmut as a child and a very grumpy teenager. You never thought you'd see Zemo look so embarassed, his dimpled cheeks glowing as his sweet, doe eyes gave you an almost apologetic look.

After yawning a third time, Ms.Anstrom insisted you head to bed and chided both the men for keeping you up so late.

"They're excited to have someone new around." Zemo commented, walking you to your room. "I think they are bored of me."

You chuckle and give him a playful nudge. "They're lovely. And I hope you aren't jealous from the lack of attention."

"Of you? Never."

You snort and shake your head, pushing open your bedroom door slightly and you turn back to him. "I guess this is good night?"

"Goodnight Vrăjitore," he says, leaning forward to give you a gentle kiss. "I'm glad to have you here with me. You know where I am if you need anything."

He moves away slowly, almost resistant to go, and moves across the hall to his room. You watch him go, giving him a small wave as his door closes and you retreat into your room.

You don't know how long you'd be able to resist his gentlemanly charm. Resist him. But as you crawl under your covers you begin to smile to yourself as the memories of the day take root and wonder what the rest of your holiday has in store for you.

The snow glittered along the grounds, coating everything like powdered sugar. Your eyes were alight with childish whimsy but you still shivered as a gust of icy wind howled against the window. You were so lost in your own mesmiration that you didn't hear Zemo behind you, wrapping warm arms around your waist and resting his chin onto your shoulder.

"Vrăjitore," He murmurs to your ear. "Why are you awake so early? Come back to bed."

You rest your head against his, chuckling softly as you watch a dusting of snow blow across the icy plane outside. It was tempting. He was tempting. He was still deliciously warm and toasty, the hair on your arms prickling when his hands brushed down them and he pecked your cheek.

Your eyes catch his in the reflection of the window. Zemo's brown eyes are still heavy with sleep, his hair softly tousled and styled by the silk pillows, but he still manages the effortlessly loving gaze that you are helpless to fight against.

"Fine." You sigh, taking one last look at the sparkling snow before turning your head to him and cupping his warm cheek in your hand. "Let's go back to bed."

#fluffcember 2024 #fluffcember #gremlin girly writes #gremlin girly #fluff #zemo fanfic #helmut zemo #fatws #baron zemo #zemo x reader #zemo x you #zemo x y/n #marvel mcu #zemo fluff #zemo mcu

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jeremiah-fisher · 1 year ago

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all my summers

—a the summer i turned pretty fic about first love, first heartbreak, and steven conklin ♡

「chapter seven: a little too late」

SUMMER

No one was expecting it when it happened. I don’t think anyone in the world ever wakes up expecting something like this to happen. It just does and then you are left to deal with the aftermath.

The memory of white coats, teal scrubs, hushed, terrified voices and so many cries – I remember it all as if it only happened yesterday. In some ways, I think it did. Every time I see the scar on my body, I am reminded that I cheated death, and that for years onward, my family suffered for it.

My mother is listening to my physician explain my bloodwork results. I’m sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, the faux leather hot under my legs. I don’t think they have the air conditioning cranked up in this room like they have it on blast everywhere else. I thought I was going to get frostbite when we entered through the hospital doors an hour ago.

In my pocket, my phone continuously vibrates, alerting me to incoming messages I need to reply to as soon as I get back into the car. Going off of previous visits, this one should end in the next two minutes. Dr. Celeste Varley is a stickler for time (mostly because she would rather be on vacation than attending to teenage patients – it’s nearly impossible to schedule an appointment with her that isn’t months from when you need it).

“Right, so,” Dr. Varley says, turning away from my mother to look at me. Her hazel eyes give a glance over, as if she was searching for wounds that may have protruded whilst she was otherwise occupied. “The results are good, so there’s nothing to worry about on that front. Are you drinking enough water, Summer?”

“Yes.”

“How many glasses a day?”

“I don’t keep count.”

Dr. Varley exchanges a glance with my mother that screams Is your child always this difficult to deal with? When she looks at me again, her eyes are a little harsher than before. I know I’m about to be scolded. “With your condition, it’s very important that you do. Eight glasses a day is what you should be aiming for – more if you’re working out. Are you working out?”

“Not particularly…”

My mother lets out a tired sigh. “Summer, just answer Dr. Varley’s questions.”

I keep my eyes glued to the hospital floor. “I don’t work out that much. I just go for a run two days a week.”

“How many miles?”

“I don’t know.”

“Summer.”

“Fine, two.”

Dr. Varley’s fingernails tap tap tap against her keyboard as she inputs this information into the hospital database. In two weeks, I will be back here and being bombarded with more questions about my health and nutrition and I will hate it just the same.

“Alright, that’s about all I have for you folks today. Thanks for coming in. I’ll see you at the end of July for your next visit.”

Mom and I are both equally silent as we climb into her car. I tried to ask her if we could take mine since it was newer and ate up less gas, but she didn’t want to. No matter how many years passed, my mother remained attached to her manual without any hope of letting go.

I thought about asking her if I could come to these visits alone, too. I think if it were legal, I would never ask my family to be a part of my health journey. I wanted them to be less involved – especially my father. After everything he had already done for me, I wanted him not to ever recall that I was the reason he spent two years in a prison cell surrounded by men who could and did violently attack him.

We drive up to the local Farmers’ Market, but I don’t get out and my mother doesn’t ask me to. I stay rooted in my spot in the passenger seat as she peruses the seasonal fruits. I notice a bunch of strawberries stacked in a corner but I’m not stupid enough to ask her to buy them. They probably don’t even taste that great.

With the headrest at a comfortable position, I sit back against my seat and scroll through my Instagram account. As always, there are thousands of likes under my most recent post – a shot of me and Vivian at the country club in our Afternoon Tea dresses – and dozens of comments to accompany them.

brit-pip: so cute!!

thealisonshow: love that colour on you, sum!

hannanotmontana: you and viv are bestie goals fr

threewishes18: you’re beautiful.

My index finger drags the edge of the last comment to the left until it disappears. Immediately, the ‘undo?’ option pops up and I don’t hesitate to click on it. The comment reappears with the username and everything it means to me.

He leaves a comment under every single post I make without fault. He thinks I don’t know it’s him; that because he’s not using his normal account, I won’t know that he follows me and keeps track of my life through the internet.

A part of me knows I should be at least a tiny bit creeped out, but the thing is, I’m not. If anything, I’m pleased. I like knowing that he keeps me on his radar, that I’m still someone he thinks about.

So much went down between us last summer that I had truly believed he got over me as quickly as he seemed to after he went away. It’s nice knowing I’m not the only one who cared. Cares. I hate that I still care. And what I hate even more is being happy that he seems to care, too.

Mom returns to the car with a cloth bag full of fruits a few minutes later. I’m putting the finishing touches on my new story – a shot of my freshly painted nails I took this morning on the porch. My fingernails are now the same colour as the rare purple peonies my father keeps in the garden.

“I asked Maggie to wash them,” my mother says, handing me a plastic bowl full to the brim with sweet, red strawberries – the exact same ones I had been longingly staring at a few minutes ago. “And there’s a bottle of water under your seat.”

My chest fills with love as I blink away tears. “I wasn’t trying to be bitchy to Dr. V, Mom.”

“Language,” she tuts, but she is smiling. She turns the keys in the ignition and waits for the car to start. “I know you weren’t. These appointments are hard on all of us.”

I bite my bottom lip to stop it from wobbling. “I don’t mean to make them harder for you, I just… I hate going there. I hate remembering–”

“This is life, Summer,” she cuts in, reversing out of the parking lot with a hand on the back of my headrest. I can smell the Farmers’ Market on her, something strong like peaches and honeydew. “We always have to confront our demons. Even when we don’t want to.”

I sniffle, chewing on the strawberries as their potent taste bursts into fireworks in my mouth. “Why did my demons have to be acute renal failure?”

Mother sets me with an indiscernible look. It’s a look she uses a lot when it comes to me but I have never been able to decipher it. From the day I met her, she has been this way.

It is a story the whole family tells – every Christmas, every New Year, every Easter, every Fourth of July.

Uncle Crane starts with the beer, then moves onto some old whiskey, and by the time he has drowned himself in that, my father comes around to hoist his brother back up on the couch and someone asks him about me. Dad never shies away from the story either. He tells it with his whole chest, says my name like it’s an honour, makes me feel like I really was born to be his “little girl.”

Mom has always been the opposite. Dad brought me home without discussing it with her first, and it caused a rift between them. Accusations were thrown – she thought he cheated, he thought she was unreasonable. Aiden tugged on my hand and asked me to play Hot Wheels with him.

The orphanage had been lenient with my father. He had been a longtime friend to many who worked there, and even the kids who came and went. They didn’t ask my father for more proof than what his license conveyed. Beth had told him he was allowed to ‘take me home,’ but I wasn’t permitted to stay until a social worker would come by two weeks later for an inspection.

Now that I’m older, the idea seems atrocious. What kind of an orphanage gives children away to strangers? Were there no laws against it? I thought there should be. But then, maybe if there had been, my mother would have gotten what she wanted and dissuaded my father from making space for me in the Winslow family.

When we get home, Mom asks me to check the mailbox and add the letters to the pile on the kitchen counter for her to check after her shower.

I walk up to the red mailbox at the end of our driveway lost in thought.

If I ask my old modeling agent, Lucy, to find some jobs for me either with Target or someplace else, I can use that money to help pay off some of the hospital bills. Our insurance doesn’t cover everything, and we still have personal expenses to think about. And the loans…

By the time I reach the mailbox and dig inside for new mail, I’m feeling dizzy. I need to get my head on a pillow. Dr. Varley says stress is bad for my new kidney so I try as much as I can not to, though when the dooming thoughts transpire, there is very little I can do to mask my emotions from myself.

I count the mail as I pull it out: the water bill, the electricity bill, me and Aiden’s combined phone bill, an invitation from Cousins’ mayor about the upcoming Fourth of July gala downtown, and a letter… addressed to me.

I start to shake as soon as I read my name in swooping, blue letters on the corner of the rectangular envelope. The ink is a bit smudged where the address is supposed to be but I know our postman, Mr. Drake, would never get the house wrong.

He is sixty-two and has three kids who all live abroad and a tiny rabbit named Mouse. His memory is the sharpest in all of Cousins. He was delivering mail and newspapers before the GPS was even a thing.

Besides, my name – my name – is evidence enough that this particular letter was meant to reach me. I stuff it inside my shirt and rush back into the house, dropping the other mail off on the kitchen counter like Mom asked.

The stairs tremble just like I do as I run up and shut my bedroom door behind me. The whole house is quiet, apart from my heavy breathing. My heart races as I pull the letter back out and set it and myself down on my bed.

I let myself stare at the letter some more. Words, all lined with blue. Written in ballpoint pen. Not the expensive 0.5 mm pens you get from high end Japanese stationery stores. This pen must have been from a packet of five you get from back-to-school sales at Wal-Mart. This pen leaks and the person who wrote with it was not very precise; the names and addresses are sloppily placed, almost as if it had been written in a hurry.

September 14th, age six

Ten minutes ago, I had climbed onto my chair to do my homework. I looked forward to doing it. My kindergarten teachers, Mrs. Norris, taught us two-letter words and I was practicing how to write them. I also had to read a book before bed for reading practice – The Very Hungry Caterpillar.

Mama was supposed to read with me. It was her job, Mrs. Norris had reminded her twice before. If Mama didn’t help me read, I would fall behind the rest of the class and they would have to keep me back a grade. That would mean all the other kids would be in the first grade come next Fall and I would be stuck repeating kindergarten. I didn’t want that. I wanted to move up just like everyone else.

But Mama didn’t seem to care whether I did or not. She was too busy heating up her leftover chicken and rice. I was hungry, too, but I knew I couldn’t ask her for some. She always got angry when I asked to share her food. My food was fruit cups and convenience store ramen and the shelled pistachios Mama hated to eat from her trail mix. She always left a bowl of them for me to munch on when I watched TV.

I was halfway through writing the word ‘be’ for the tenth time when Mama’s phone started ringing. She jumped away from the microwave and made a grab for it off the table. I don’t know why she always looked so scared when her phone rang but she did. And whenever she spoke to someone on it, her mood turned sour.

That day was more or less the same. And different, too, because Mama got frantic after she shut it off. She didn’t ask me if she could when she grabbed my school notebook and scribbled some words on it. Then she ushered me out of our apartment and next door to Miss Hallie’s.

Miss Hallie was thirty-six and a school teacher. She had a husband, but he worked in Dubai so she only saw him a few times per year. Mama always sent me to Miss Hallie’s house when people were in ours and Miss Hallie never complained. They would talk by the front door and I would settle into my spot on her fabric sofa and continue what I was doing back in my own house until I was allowed to go back in.

Miss Hallie didn’t talk to Mama that day. All she got was what Mama wrote in my notebook, which I showed her and she read with tears in her eyes. Then she went to the kitchen and brought me warm soup to drink with a big spoon. It was full of corn that kept getting stuck in my teeth.

I started on my homework again after I finished my food. By then, Mama was entertaining her guests. The walls between Miss Hallie’s apartment and ours were so thin that you could practically hear everything.

First, Mama was laughing. There were even a few giggles. But then came the shouting and the sound of stuff breaking. At the end, there were other noises I couldn't understand and then Mama was crying. I tried to ask Miss Hallie if I could go to her because Mama always held me when I cried so I thought she needed me for that, too. Miss Hallie wouldn’t let me go. She said Mama told her I had to stay with her for the next two days.

Miss Hallie took me to school the next day and then the day after that and the day after that. Mama was gone for a whole week before Miss Hallie finally called the cops. They sent two women in uniform to come pick me up. Miss Hallie cried a lot as she let me go with them. They told her she could visit me at the Cousins Beach Orphanage in the next town over. I had never heard of Cousins Beach before but in the blink of an eye, it became my permanent home.

The ache in my chest – the ache to know – propels me to grab the box from under my bed and tear it open. I throw things aside until I find the note. It’s worn down now, eleven years later, but I can still make out what she had written so long ago.

Hallie,

Please take care of Imogen for a few days. I have business to take care of, but I’ll come back for her soon. Even if you hear noises coming from my apartment, don’t try to come in, and please, don’t let Imogen see. I’m begging you.

Dorothy

I hold the note and the letter up side by side to compare them.

Everything about the writing is the same and it guts me. After all these years… she found me. I’m surprised she was even looking. That she cared enough to. This letter is proof that she wanted to. That I mattered enough for her to search for me.

Still, I’m terrified. Petrified enough to drop the note and her letter inside my box and shove it back under my bed.

I can’t think about this right now. I can’t think about her or the life I used to have. The one Dad saved me from.

Tears paint my cheeks as I enter my phone and head directly to the group chat.

Sumi: 🆘

Vivi: WHAT HAPPENED

Stori: !!!!!!!!!

Sumi: i need to go out

Sumi: right fucking now

Stori: did something happen at the hospital? are you okay?

Vivi: FT??????

Sumi: no ft. just tell me where we can go

Sumi: pls

Stori: i’m working until 4 but the bookstore downtown is having a launch party

Vivi: try to be less boring babe

Stori: it’s not boring!! 😒

Vivi: it is and we’re not going

Sumi: then where?

Stori: you guys never give my ideas a chance -.-

Vivi: sabrina is playing at the drive in. popcorn’s on me <333

Sumi: ok, i’ll meet you guys there at 5

Stori: i’m not mad anymore. i love aubrey hepburn 😀

Vivi: and aubrey loves you, little nerd

#the summer i turned pretty #steven conklin #jeremiah fisher #conrad fisher #tsitp #belly conklin #jeremiah fisher x reader #jenny han #steven x reader #fan fiction #fanfic #tsitp fanfic #steven conklin x yn #steven conklin x reader #Spotify

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lifenconcepts · 5 months ago

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Horrid Henry headcannons (the show one, there is a distinction) (not going into the basics of him being abused or whatever)

Undiagnosed adhd.

Has issues with falling asleep and/or staying asleep.

Has probably gotten in trouble for doodling rude characatures of his teachers and people he dislikes.

Definetely snuck out a few times at night.

Love language is quality time.

Loves to get a rise out of others by pretending to like things that people find disgusting (like pineapple pizza) but in reality doesn’t like them either.

Loved to cover and uncover his ears quickly in a school cafeteria to get that funny audio noise.

Wears long clothes practically religiously to avoid being perceived.

Probably daydreamed of tons of things he wanted but into his adolescence wanted a car to “get away forever” or atleast travel out of home often.

Had a time period where he listened to the group “The Smiths”.

Loves the musical group Mindless Self Indulgence.

Is deep in denial about having self confidence issues, and tries to pull off the idea he has a god complex.

Had a burner phone he got tons of songs on and whenever limited in tv or other things can always rely to have the phone (since his parents don’t know about it).

Likes to collect CDs and loves to go to flea markets or thrift shops for cheap ones, for a few from finding them near trash bins.

Loves the night but is too wimpish to actually go out alone unless it’s to Ralph’s.

Hates anything touching his neck (clothing tags, long necks/collars, necklaces).

Has likely grown out a mullet at least once in his life.

Likes to dance unless it’s for someone or something.

Has been left home alone multiple times and learnt to deal with it well.

Neglectful when it comes to keeping relationships as he doesn’t really know how to show attention or love to ‘em.

Loves 80s synth pop.

Touch repulsed and yet touch starved, has probably cried from receiving a genuine hug (likely from Ralph)

Liked to hum or whistle tunes and often gets told off for it.

Has probably broken dozens of chairs before, accidentally.

Is the guy to volunteer eagerly when the teacher calls for a “strong boy” to help stack plastic chairs.

When riding a bike loves to speed up until his legs ache and then fail to stop in time and crash into bushes.

Likely gets into antics which result with him getting dozens of bruises or scratches.

Has probably bitten people before.

Would laugh at queers before realising he is one himself.

Secretly wants to put make-up on himself like how some rock bands do but doesn’t want to be seen in it as it could make others think he’s girly.

Parents don’t believe him when he cries and so he gets sent to his room when he actually needs some comfort and cries himself to sleep while hugging Mr. kill or a pillow, has gotten a conditioned response of fleeing the scene of feeling genuinely threatened, but can stand up to himself.

Confident in his abilities and at the same time thinks he’s the worst person to ever exist in them.

Likes to lick his own blood or pick his own scabs.

Likely aromantic (I get his distaste to getting married is just a kid thing but I like to believe otherwise). Also take the episode “horrid Henry looks at love”.

Liked to chase cats or other small animals but wouldn’t hurt them for real, maybe just aggressively pet them but not anything more.

Prolly listened to Radiohead.

Likely has a small collection of different scrap bits and pieces from toys and other objects he found outside, from random bolts to lost keys from unknown locks, to even shards of metal from a broken bus.

Has probably slept across two seats on some sort of family gathering.

Probably would be into kandi beads and loom bands.

Liked black and red checkerboard patterns.

Probably would wear goth/punk clothes into his adolescence years. From depictions of skeletons and bones to spikey collars and leather jackets.

Pierced his own ears.

Tried to at some point control the universe or atleast take over the world.

Has stuck a fork into an outlet before.

Online likes to pretend to be a real life vampire or werewolf and has told people that he lives in an old castle.

Sweet tooth!

In school liked arts and crafts and often made makeshift creatures or robots.

Would love to partake in certain after school clubs but isn’t allowed due to teachers thinking he’s always gonna be a problem child.

Has a medal he won genuinely and hides it as his most prized possession, only boasting with the one he cheated in/stole.

#horrid henry #headcanon #my headcanons #headcannons #silly #fan theories

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littlecrow-rogue · 9 months ago

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Trough the Lens: A Mötley Crüe fanfiction - Chapter One

Hi!

So the other day I made a post aboute writing a Mötley Crüe Nikki Sixx x OC fanfiction.

I did it!

I am bit nerves posting it cause english is not my first language so this was a bit hard, and even tho I asked some help from Google and transolaters to fix my grammer mistakes probobly there are still some mistakes left or wrong usage of words. But I hope it's still enjoyable.

If you read this have fun and let me know if you think and if you'd like a second chapter for it.

XoX - V

Chapter 1: "The Beginning"

The band members of Mötley Crüe sat huddled around a cluttered table in Nikki's flat, the air thick with anticipation and the remnants of their brainstorming session. Empty beer bottles mingled with scattered papers, evidence of their search for the perfect promotional plan and a testament to the chaos of their creative minds.

Tommy tapped his fingers impatiently against the table, his dark eyes darting restlessly around the room in search for inspiration. The weight of their first gig hung heavy in the air, a silent reminder of the task at hand.

Suddenly, Nikki's voice shattered the silence, cutting through the haze of uncertainty that had settled over them.

"Alright, guys, time to get down to business," he declared, his tone commanding attention.

Vince lounged back with a smirk, tossing out a suggestion that earned a mixture of amusement and disdain

"A little spray-painted graffiti on the side of Sunset Boulevard could drum up some serious buzz”

Nikki shook his head with a wry smile.

"As much as I appreciate the guerrilla marketing approach, we need something more polished," he said, running a hand through his tousled hair as he leaned forward, his gaze fixed on his bandmates.

Mick nodded in agreement.

Nikki arched an eyebrow, his gaze locking onto Tommy’s with a curious intensity.

"Do you have any ideas, Tommy?"

A mischievous grin spread across Tommy's face as he leaned back in his chair, confidence radiating from every pore.

"Actually, I do," he declared, capturing the attention of his bandmates.

"My sister, Katie, she's a photographer. She could help us make some flyres with some killer shoots."

The mention of Tommy's sister piqued the band's interest. They had heard stories about Katie Lee, Tommy mentioned her a lot, but none of them had ever met her.

Mick, ever the pragmatist, cut to the heart of the matter with a single question.

"Is she any good?" he asked, his skepticism evident in his gravelly voice.

Tommy's response was immediate.

"She's incredible," he declared, his voice brimming with pride.

"She's been working as a photographer in downtown LA for the past two years, but she has been obsessed with photography since we were kids. Trust me, guys, she's the real deal. "

Vince grinned.

"Well then, what are we waiting for? Let's go pay Katie a visit and see if she can work her magic for us."

As their car glided to a halt in front of SutterLux Studios, the first thing that caught their eyes was the imposing sign, polished to a mirror like perfection, a testament to the studio's prestige as it boldly announced its name to the world. It stood as a beacon of elegance amidst the bustling cityscape, its modern architecture a symphony of clean lines and sleek facades that mesmerized passersbys. Every detail, from the smooth curvature of the walls to the precise symmetry of the windows, spoke of craftsmanship and artistry that left an indelible impression on all who saw it. Surrounding the entrance, a meticulously curated garden, a lush oasis of greenery, provided a tranquility to the building's exterior.

As they stepped out of their car, the band's rock and roll style clashed brilliantly with the polished surroundings. Leather jackets, ripped jeans, and a smattering of tattoos made for a striking contrast against the backdrop of elegance.

Stepping into the studio, they were greeted by a receptionist girl seated at a marble-topped desk, her workspace packed with notepads and notebooks in neat order wich spoke volumes about her attention to detail. With a shy smile playing on her lips, she chirped a warm welcome, while her eyes scaned the group of men before her.

"Welcome to SutterLux! What can I help you?” her voice was light and airy.

Tommy leaned casually against the desk, flashing his trademark grin as he addressed her.

"Hey there, we're here to see Katie Lee. Is she available?" he inquired, his voice laced with confidence.

The receptionist's bashfulness only added to her charm as she inquired about their appointment, her eyes flitting towards the calendar as she searched for any openings.

"I'm her brother, and I just want to talk to her if she's free," Tommy explained with a nonchalant shrug, his charm evident in every word.

Recognition flickerd on the receptionist's face as she realized who Tommy was

"Oh, you're Katie's brother Tommy? She's mentioned you," she remarked, her shy tone melting into a warm, friendly demeanor.

"Let me see if she's available. Please take a seat. I'll be right back."

With a graceful gesture towards the plush black sofas on the other side, she disappeared into the depths of the studio, leaving the band members alone in the lobby. The air crackled with anticipation as Vince, Mick, and Nikki exchanged nervous glances, unsure of what to expect when they finally met Katie Lee.

As the receptionist girl reappeared with Katie by her side, the room seemed to brighten with her presence. Her fiery red hair cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall of flames, framing her face with an aura of vibrant energy. Her eyes twinkled with a mischievous sparkle, and every step she took radiated confidence.

"Tommy!" Katie exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine delight as she enveloped her brother in a tight hug.

"What are you doing here?"

Tommy returned the hug with equal enthusiasm, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

"We came to see you, sis," he replied, pulling back to gaze at her with fondness.

"Who’s we?” she asked couriously as her gaze shifted to the other men standing behind Tommy, her smile widening at the sight of them.

"Nikki, Vince, and Mick," Tommy introduced, gesturing to each member of the band in turn. "Guys, this is my sister, Katie."

The band members exchanged greetings with Katie, their admiration for her evident in their eyes. Her easygoing demeanor and magnetic charm left an impression on each of them, drawing them in with her infectious energy.

"Do you have a little time to spare for us sis?” Tommy asked eagerly.

"I hope so.” Katie replied with a grin.

"Sam, when's my next client scheduled to arrive?" Katie turned to the receptionist girl, who quickly returned to her desk.

Sam scanned the schedule and checked the clock on the wall before responding,

"You've got about an hour and twenty minutes until your next appointment."

Katie nodded thoughtfully.

"Great. In that case, why don't we head over to that coffee shop down the street? We can grab a table and chat," she suggested, turning back to the band with a warm smile.

"Sounds like a plan," Tommy cheered, his excitement matching hers as they left the building.

As Katie and the band strolled down the bustling streets of downtown LA, the city pulsed with an electrifying vitality and amidst the vibrant chaos, they sought refuge at a quaint corner table in a cozy café, where the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped them like a warm embrace.

After placing their orders, Nikki leaned forward, his piercing blue eyes fixed on Katie.

"So, Katie, Tommy's been singing your praises as a kickass photographer," his voice as smooth as silk. "We're on the hunt for someone with your skills to help us make a splash with our upcoming gig."

Katie nodded, her interest piqued.

"I'm all ears," she replied, leaning back in her chair.

Tommy, unable to contain his excitement, leaned forward eagerly.

"We've headlining at the Starwood Club next month," he announced, a grin spreading across his face. "But we're not just looking to play; we want to rock the joint!"

"And to light up that stage, we need some badass posters, flyers, and all that jazz, something that draws a lot of people in" Vince chimed in, his voice hyped.

Katie soaked up their vibe, a glint of excitement dancing in her eyes.

"Consider it done" she declared, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"But first could guys maybe show some of your music for me? Just to get a better image of Mötley Crüe.”

The band exchanged looks, a smirk playing on their lips.

"We'll crank up the amps and give you a taste," Tommy promised, a grin spreading across his face.

"You just got a backstage pass to our sonic circus," Nikki added, a playful twinkle in his eye.

"Why don't we invite you to my place? We've got a rehearsal space set up there, so you can experience what we're all about."

Katie's eyes gleamed with excitement.

"That sounds perfect," she exclaimed, a radiant smile gracing her lips.

"Then it's settled," Mick declared with a decisive nod. "We'll make our way to Nikki's place once we're done here."

With the first part of their plan solidified, the band and Katie lingered over their drinks, their conversation flowing with easy.

As the time drew near for Katie's next appointment, the group decided to escort her back to work. Upon the arrival, Katie vanished into the studio to finish her job for the day.

As the band settled into the reception hall, time seemed to stretch out before them, each minute feeling like an eternity as they waited with for Katie's return.

At long last, the door creaked open, and Katie emerged with a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

"Sorry for the wait, guys," Katie apologized, her voice carrying a note of excitement as she joined the band.

"I'm ready to roll now."

With a renewed sense of anticipation, Katie and the band made their way to Nikki's car, the excitement practically crackling in the air around them. As they headed to the Sunset Strip, Katie couldn't suppress the thrill bubbling within her, eager to delve deeper into the realm of rock 'n' roll.

Arriving at Nikki's apartment building, Katie was greeted by a surge of excitement at the thought finally getting to know the band wich her brother was part of.

As Mötley Crüe and Katie entered Nikki's flat, they were greeted by a space that perfectly encapsulated the rock 'n' roll lifestyle. Posters of iconi musicans adorned the walls, while instruments were scattered haphazardly around the room. Amplifiers hummed softly in the background, hinting at the music that was created within these walls.

The furniture was a mix of vintage pieces and modern comforts, giving the space a lived-in yet stylish vibe. A plush couch sat against one wall, its cushions worn from years of use, while a sleek bar area beckoned from the corner, stocked with an impressive array of spirits.

Nikki led the group into the room with a grin, gesturing for them to make themselves at home. "Welcome to my humble abode, where the magic happens" he said, a twinkle in his eye turning to Katie

"Make yourself comfortable."

As Katie and the rest of the band settled in, Nikki made his way to the fridge, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Alright, folks, what'll it be?" he called out, opening the fridge door to reveal an assortment of beverages.

"Beer, wine, whiskey? You name it, I've got it."

The band members exchanged glances, a collective smirk crossing their faces.

"Surprise us, Nikki," Vince replied, a playful edge to his voice.

Nikki chuckled as he retrieved a selection of drinks from the fridge, passing them out to the group with a flourish. As the band settled in with their drinks, Nikki turned to Katie with a grin.

"Are you ready for your private show, Katie?" he asked, his eyes alight with anticipation.

Katie's face broke into a wide smile.

"Absolutely," she replied, excitement coursing through her veins as she leand back comfortably in the couch, drink in hand. With a casual ease, she propped her legs up on the coffee table, fixing her gaze on the band with eager anticipation.

With that the band took their place on the stage, wich was the other side of Nikki’s living room, and launched into their first song. The music was filling the room with its raw energy. Katie's eyes danced with delight as she listened, completely captivated by the electrifying performance unfolding before her.

Song after song, Mötley Crüe poured their hearts and souls into their music, each note resonating with passion and intensity. Katie couldn't help but be swept away by the sheer talent and charisma of the band, her appreciation for their music growing with each passing moment.

As the final chords faded into silence, Tommy and Nikki took their seats on either side of Katie, their faces flushed with exhilaration. Vince and Mick settled into the armchairs surrounding the coffee table, their expressions mirroring the sense of accomplishment that filled the room.

"So, Katie, what did you think?" Nikki asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Katie's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she took a sip of her drink, considering her response.

"I loved it," she said, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

"Each song had its own unique energy"

With the mood buoyed by Katie's praise, she launched into her ideas for the flyers and posters, drawing inspiration from the music she had just heard.

The band members listened intently, nodding in agreement as Katie outlined her vision for the promotional materials.

"I love it," Vince exclaimed, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.

"It sounds like you really understand our vibe and what we're all about."

Katie smiled, feeling a surge of pride at the band's reaction.

"I'm glad you think so," she replied.

"I can't wait to get started and see what we can create together."

As the excitement of their collaboration filled the room, Katie and the band members of Mötley Crüe quickly settled on a date for the photoshoot.

"How about Saturday, two days from now?" Katie suggested, her eyes alight with enthusiasm.

The band members exchanged eager nods, they couldn’t wait to see Katie's vision come to life. "Sounds good to us," Nikki replied, a grin spreading across his face.

"We'll make sure we're ready to rock and roll."

With the date set and plans in motion, the group toasted to their upcoming photoshoot, excitement buzzing in the air. As they continued to chat and laugh late into the evening, Katie couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the creative journey that lay ahead.

As the evening wore on and the excitement of their collaboration began to wind down, the band members of Mötley Crüe started to make their exit.

Vince, with a mischievous glint in his eye, rose from his seat, his voice laced with playful banter.

"Alright folks, see you on Saturday. I'm off to see my girl" he declared, his announcement met with teasing cheers from the rest of the group.

Shortly there after, Mick followed suit, offering a nod of farewell before vanishing into the nocturnal embrace of the city.

Tommy glanced at his watch, realizing it was time to pick up his new flame.

"I better get going, my date is waiting" he said, flashing a grin at the others.

"New girl?” Katie asked quirosly.

"We will see” he answered with a huge smile still plaster on his face

"But before I head out, Nikki, do you mind taking Katie home?"

"I'd be happy to make sure she gets home safely." Nikki nodded in agreement, a warm smile on his face.

Katie smiled gratefully

"Thank you, Nikki," she said

"I appreciate it."

With goodbyes exchanged Tommy dissapiered and soon after Nikki and Katie made their way down from the flat to Nikki's car, the cool night air greating them as they stepped out side. They exchanged casual banter as they walked, their laughter echoing off the surrounding buildings.

"So, Nikki, where did you and my brother crossed paths?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Nikki's gaze drifted to the road ahead, a nostalgic smile gracing his lips as he recounted the story.

"Well, it was after I had a falling out with my former band's singer and decided to quit London," he began, his voice tinged with nostalgia.

"I was feeling pretty lost and unsure of what to do next."

He paused for a moment, lost in thought, before continuing.

"I found myself sitting in a diner, flipping through the ads of musicians looking to join a band," he explained.

"That's when Tommy walked up to me out of the blue."

A smile tugged at the corners of Nikki's lips as he recalled the memory.

"He was this cocky guy with wild hair and an even wilder personality," he said.

"I remember him saying he had my poster on his bedroom wall” he laughed and Katie started giggeling next to him.

"And then he just seated himself infront of me and started twireling his drum sticks and as they say the rest is histroy”

Katie glanced over at Nikki, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"It's amazing how things just seem to fall into place sometimes," she remarked, her voice filled with admiration.

"It's like the universe has a way of bringing people together when they need it."

Nikki nodded in agreement, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Yeah, it's funny how life works out like that," he replied, his voice tinged with reflection. "Sometimes the most unexpected encounters can change the course of your life in ways you never imagined."

They fell into a comfortable rhythm of conversation, sharing stories and laughter as they made their way through the city streets. Before they knew it, they had arrived at Katie's apartment building, the glow of the streetlights casting a warm halo around them.

As Nikki pulled up to the curb, he turned to Katie with a smile.

"Well, here we are," he said, his tone lighthearted.

"Thanks for the company, Katie. I had a great time tonight."

Katie returned his smile, a sense of warmth and gratitude filling her chest.

"Thank you for the ride, Nikki," she replied, her voice sincere.

With a final wave goodbye, Katie stepped out of the car and watched as Nikki drove off into the night. As she made her way up to her apartment, a sense of contentment washed over her, grateful for the unexpected connection she had formed with Nikki and the band.

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