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jeanjauthor · 2 days ago

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If your thousands-of-years-old civilization is going to have wars & economic upheavals (and it will), then there will be changes in technology.

Some of them will be strides forward through positive things like peaceful trade, such as combining copper & tin from deposits hundreds of miles apart just to make bronze. Others will be pressured into figuring out how to make the much more difficult to smelt but much more locally available iron, because the trade routes for getting enough copper & tin together are destroyed due to wars along their trade routes.

Some will be the spread of knowledge about things like arches and aqueducts. Others will be losing the recipe for cement for hundreds of years, then only coming up with a half-assed version that only lasts decades, and then finally getting the long-lasting version figured out only after high technology allows the original Roman concrete to be examined microscopically.

Either way, there will be periods of famine along the way, which pressures people into finding and growing disease-resistant, pest-resistant, and drought-resistant crops. There will be harsh winters due to some far-off place exploding a volcano that dumps enough particles into the atmosphere to block just enough sunlight to make temperatures drop. There will be sudden earthquakes that slide coastal cities into the sea, or spawn tsunamis that bring the sea too far inland onto the shore.

Pestilence might wipe out huge percentages of a population, setting back technological progress by centuries...or advancing it simply because there aren't enough healthy bodies to do the work that is needed to get a community to survive. There might be regimes that slaughter people simply for wearing spectacles & watches because those are worn by smart people, and the despotic regime wants their citizens too dumb to know just how bad they're being exploited by the ruling classes...or regimes that just destroy education so that they're easily led sheep, leaving you with a population that can barely read & write...and if they're not stopped, then two generations later, can they even read & write at all if they're not born into the elites?

The Roman Empire fell, and Western Europe lost water-flushed sanitation, the knowledge of how to make thousand-year-strong concrete, underfloor heating (hypocaust systems), and even how to do multiplication with Roman numerals...because if that last one was ever written down, the writings were lost.

King Tutankhamun's meteoritic iron dagger was made centuries before the Iron Age began, but that knowledge was lost for those centuries because only a few people figured out how to do it, and they didn't spread the knowledge or reinvent it until the Sea Peoples invasions and all the economic collapses that happened started crashing trade routes, making it too dangerous & expensive to keep making bronze. And it took that same Iron Age knowledge centuries to cross Eurasia and get started all the way over in China. It took centuries for iron knowledge to be learned enough to figure out how to make the much harder and more durable steel.

But it was only centuries, not thousands of years. When gunpowder made it back over to Europe from China, Europeans figured out how to make cannons and handguns with it. The Chinese did have gunpowder rockets that they could use in combat as well as fireworks, but they didn't think to combine it with steel or iron tubes to propel balls of iron and stone. But that did happen, and it happened in less than a thousand years once the information spread.

As for individuals from long-lived races...even a slow-witted individual will eventually notice trends over the long run, if they live and work at a particular type of task long enough. LIke, "If I use this proportion of iron ore, charcoal instead of wood, and a bit of crushed limestone, I get a much better quality of iron in the end...and if I blow enough air through the mass in the smelter, it gets even stronger!" Typical pig iron that comes out of an ore smelter has around or above 5% carbon and it's very brittle and not very durable, but if you can burn off the excess carbon down into the 2% range, you get steel...but you have to pay attention. Quicker-witted individuals will figure it out fairly quickly.

Also, boredom. Long-lived individuals will want change, so they'll go tinkering, they'll go inventing, they'll go trying different styles. True, nobody talks about the era where Galadriel went around in miniskirts and gogo boots because she finds it too embarrassing these days to even think about, but surely there was an experimental trend with clothing by elves in the equivalent of their teens? Good lord, look at Legolas, hanging out with hobbits and dwarves! It took him a hundred years to do it a second time, but he did eventually do it, and it didn't take him a millennium, just barely a century!

...When I came up with the idea of the V'Dan having approximately ten thousand years of history--written history, at that--it was done specifically with an impossible-to-kill time traveler being involved (the Immortal). And there were wars. There were periods of political upheaval, and technologies that were advanced, lost, redesigned, abandoned, and more.

When the main character Ia visits the Immortal's Vault on Earth, she flat-out states that the technology being used is not anything known by historians, and it certainly isn't anything used by Terrans or V'Dan. It was an ancient technology that the Immortal developed over ten thousand years before, it wasn't shared. And when the Immortal moved her human followers from Earth to V'Dan, they didn't have that technology. For one, they were far too busy just figuring out how to survive on a literally alien world. For another, they had already lost that technology. (Can't remember if I put in a mention of the "Scholar War" in the First Salik War series, but that was the series of blunders that caused the Immortal to shut down technological advancements for a long while.)

With a completely different tech tree, a completely different history, with completely different social and economical pressures...but with their first five thousand years of the main population base having stable leadership, the V'Dan actually got into interstellar space four centuries faster than the Terrans did...but only four centuries. And there were still natural disasters and political upheavals, wars and famines and god all else.

"The V'Dan Empire has lasted for nearly ten thousand years!" is technically true, but what they don't admit openly is that at certain points, it was smaller than France, and at other points, smaller than England. Not Great Britain or the British Isles, but smaller than England, and it was not on an island, protected by coastal waters. It was surrounded by enemy states who were willing to try to wipe them out...and again, it only lasted so long because there was a literally immortal busybody helping them out.

The oldest continuously run parliament in the world is the Tynwald of the Isle of Mann, which is just about a thousand years old. But it survived because the Isle of Mann is tiny and you can walk everywhere in just a couple of hours, which meant it was easy for people to be encouraged to participate generation after generation.

The Roman Empire could not be walked in several days, let alone several hours. It existed for over a thousand years...if you count the Byzantium Empire...and it experienced multiple plagues, wars, political upheavals, and several factional divisions. Ancient Egypt existed for several thousand years...but only if you count it by having a continuous culture, and not by the ethnicities of the people who were in charge, nor by any sense of political stability.

The empire of Alexander the Great didn't even last more than a couple of decades, yet it vastly altered cultures and politics for generations. China as a concept has existed for thousands of years, but it wasn't actually a fully unified thing for most of its history.

Kingdoms rose and fell, empires were expanded and broken up. Technologies were discovered and lost. Progressive cultures and governments pushed for and accepted innovations. Reactionary cultures and governments squashed innovations and throttled down freedoms in the elites' attempts to control everything. And not even writing things down can guarantee they'll be remembered. The Indus Valley Civilization has a genuine advanced writing system and we still can't decipher it!

For good or bad, stuff happens when you give it enough time. A lot of stuff happens!

pro-tip: don't ever use the sentence "thousands of years" in your worldbuilding unless you really know what a thousand years is like

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sqgeism · 3 days ago

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hey there!!! love your work sm eheheh

anyway, i was wondering if you could (perchance) do a vampire reader x dr ratio? preferably where the reader is STARVING and bites him lolol

stay safe and stay silly!!

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 take a look into my eyes | dr. ratio and anaxagoras (seperate) x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; can you feel the tension ? between us boy, i know you want this potion ! bloodstains : a course of how to have a vampire lover. written by anaxagoras and dr. ratio.

love mail — hi anonnie ! thank u sm for requesting >< misread the comment originally and wrote vampire anaxagoras b4 scrapping as i reread it (;´Д⊂) anaxa's is lowkey suggestive.. experimental fic.. and if you can give me criticism on that part i'd really appreciate it cus i don't write make outs often (´；ω；`) this was so weirdly long mama help

,to be quite frank, dr. ratio figured it out before you revealed yourself to him. it explained why you seemed to never sleep, or your fast regeneration, things like that. so when you two started dating, he kept an eye on how you satiated your appetite. even if you didn't like it.. fresh, red meat from butchers weirdly worked. instead of buying the packaged stuff—ratio accompanied you to a butcher every week to get a big slab of undrained cow meat. then it'll be your meal till it would no longer suffice.

unfortunately, not only did it not taste good, but it was barely enough to keep you functioning. you had enough strength to move and do usual tasks, but your power was significantly weaker, as well as regeneration. your body responds negatively to the lack of proper blood, but still accepts it as such. like forcing yourself to eat uncooked meat. (which is what you were doing)

and because of your weakening state, and having your arm chopped off after a battle.. it was regenerating, worry not (albeit very slow), you two got into an argument. "your cowardice is killing you." ratio began with a sharp tone, causing you to scoff. "what am i supposed to do, ratio? bite random people on the streets?" you retorted, and he lets out a forced, amused laugh.

"your solution stands before you, (name)."

he looms over you. "bite me, for aeon's sake. you think a measly bite will hurt, compared to the suffering you go through?" he's never sounded so.. mad, but gentle. his hand grips your unharmed shoulder, grip like a vice yet still tender. "bite me." he demands, yet also pleads.

dr. ratio begging is a sight you never thought you'd see, but his eyes pierce through you in complete seriousness. he won't let you leave this conversation without a bite mark on his neck, and you don't remember how long it's been since you've had mortal blood. "..f-fine."

in your weakened state, your legs force themselves to stand. your body really only has the strength to lean against him, as his arms wrap around you to keep you stable. your head weakly makes its way to his exposed bicep, and his hand guides you, knowing it likely won't hit anything vital.. and it's the easiest to access currently. after all, your other arm is far from fully regenerating, and ratio was starting to worry that the blood you had wasn't enough.

slowly, your mouth opens—revealing eager teeth but still hesitant. you hover over his arm for a bit, before slowly biting down.

he doesn't wince, not at all, but he does grunt at the initial bite. he listens to you slowly feed, feeling the blood drain from his body as he stands tall. and while he's faltering, you grow stronger. hell, your intact arm grips his hips as you dig deeper. little mumbles as you suck on his arm, like it's the last drop of blood you'll ever have.

you're brought back to reality as ratio's head slumps against yours and you pull your teeth out quickly, licking the bite and stopping any more blood with a cloth. "ratio!"

you don't even realize that your other arm has regenerated as you use it to stabilize him. guiding him back down on the chair you were just sat on as he groans. he can't speak, he's too lightheaded to try. but he feels lips press against his and a whisper of a sorry before he completely slips.

you care for him till he wakes up. feeling much.. much stronger, but needing to communicate how they'll go on forward. after all, you liked that a bit too much. and with the way ratio's heart was racing, you can make a wild guess that it was either adrenaline or attraction.

anaxa doesn't feel too weird about your vampirism. it explained the long sleeves constantly, big hats and umbrellas, fangs that came with sharp nails.. typical vampire lover packaging.

though something he found intriguing, was that you never drank raw, mortal blood. it was always blood bags.. nothing that had a beating heart. you were always so delicate that way.. even as your body physically withered, you wouldn't have your fangs get anywhere close to a human.. especially not anaxa.

but coming with you when you were hungry always.. saddened him. after getting your hands on a blood bag that are provided to keep those of your kind that aren't too far gone.. at least a little sane—you clearly never liked it. described it as too cold, bitter, and was the vampire equivalent of spoiled milk.

it didn't help all too much either. while it kept your hunger at bay, you were still much weaker compared to your full potential. you could transform, regenerate quickly, hide in shadows.. but you could only do the last one. and as previously established, even if regeneration is part of your abilities, it was greatly weakened. your body didn't have enough energy or blood to regenerate with, therefore straining your physical and mental.

and it was a great trouble for you, because the demands of an astral express member was starting to get rougher. all while you weren't regenerating in time to be able to meet what was expected of you. missions were getting rougher, injuries were worsening, and your body couldn't catch up to it all.

so that leads you here, a large gash in your face as you lay in anaxa's lap, waiting for the pain to disappear as you rustle and turn, unable to really rest due to the uncomfortable sensation. you can feel your muscles trying to pull themselves back together, skin sparing no effort to resort itself. and anaxa is doing no better. he pushes your hair away to see the full extent of the wound, and his heart aches. you're in so much pain.. yet you won't do what you have to in order to fix it. "my dove, please." you know what he's going to offer, and you'll refuse it every time. "anaxa, no. i swore i wouldn't bite after turning." yet you aren't getting any better. you've been like this for hours, and changing what you wear won't erase the wounds he knows are still healing beneath your top.

he doesn't want his frustration to get the better of him, but the scholar quietly seethes. you're being so stubborn—for what? too afraid to hurt him? he loves you for your selflessness, but he's not above begging you to be selfish for once.

in the silence of your struggles, his brain is racking to figure out a way to get you to drink his blood. considering his loss of morality and not necessarily caring if something is harmful to him, he doesn't think twice about what happens to him. just as long as you're okay.. staring down at your lips a little too long gives him an idea.

he taps your shoulder softly, and one anaxa's hand makes it's way to your back to slowly guide you back up to him, the other resting on your hip. "my love, i know it's a bad time. but may i kiss you? i know that you're in pain, and i'd like to do anything i can to make you feel better." you seem hesitant at first, thinking your bloodied wound would make you a little.. unattractive to your boyfriend, but it's anaxa, it makes sense why he wouldn't care. so you nod and barely get a breath in before he's all over you.

it isn't the short kisses anaxa has been known for to you, it's hungry. he's practically devouring you, the vampire between you both, might i add. it doesn't help that he's dipping down to you and keeping your head in place with his hand, effectively trapping you in his little plan. the other, while you're too busy melting against his advances, squeezes you—harshly. it causes you to make the sweetest noise that he's sure to relish, but more importantly—your mouth opens just enough for your fangs to be exposed. that's when he forces your lower jaw upwards, making you bite his lip hard enough to bleed.

he groans, no doubt, but he doesn't pull away. in fact, this is where he returns with much more fervor. you panic in realization of what he's done, but anaxa's grip is unforgiving. he's making sure that his blood gets and stays in your mouth.

your struggle doesn't last long, thankfully. because your worry turns into relief, as the long forgotten taste of human blood begins to flood your tastebuds. eventually he doesn't need to hold your head for you anymore, you've recovered from your lightheadedness and began to take initiative as well. kissing him softly and licking the blood clean off of his lips.

when you finish with one last peck, you look at your lover with a bit of conflict. unsure whether or not to be upset or.. thankful. because the pain has stopped, and you feel stronger. your body doesn't ache as much either. "you're a madman." is all you grumble, hitting his chest.

the scholar laughs, burying his head against your hair. "whatever you say, dove."

#ㅤ 𐔌᭥ᩙ༉ㅤnew flower bloomed ! :ೃ࿔𔓘 #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #anaxagoras x reader #anaxa x you #anaxa x reader #anaxagoras #hsr anaxa #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #ratio x reader #ratio hsr x reader #dr ratio hsr x reader #veritas ratio x reader #veritas x reader

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madamechrissy · 6 hours ago

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Teacher's Pet

Pairings- Boyfriend Takuma Ino x F! reader x Professor Nanami

Warnings absolutely MDNI - oral (f receiving from Ino and Nanami) fingering, messy kissing, Nanami is 35, reader and Ino are like 21, so age gap. Threesome aspects and general freakiness, light choking, dom daddy type Nanami, masturbation (Nanami) and panty stealing

A/N- had a request for college AU Ino/reader/Nanami where Nanami is your 'professor' and teaches you some ahem... things? I haven't written Ino before so I hope I don't fuck him up here - it's PWP lol

Takuma Ino had never thought he would get this, get to feel your slick heat against his fingers, your sweet little cries in his ears as you arch your hips against his hand, trembling as it touches you over your panties. It had been just a harmless kiss, really, after class - only for you both to fall into each other, mouths hungrier and hungrier, even as they're clumsy.

Ino was still a virgin senior year of college, but he swears it's because he was waiting for you, he can't even see anyone but you, long before you decided to date him. Now his cock is throbbing, he's willing it to go down as he tries to find what you like. What is it, here, where he presses and your hips jerk? Or here, slipping under the elastic of your panties now, and finding you soaked.

"Oh, baby you're so wet, d-do you like this?" He asks softly, chocolate brown eyes almost black as he studies your face in earnest, you nod shakily, eyes fluttering shut as he watches you.

"I love it, f-feels so good," you want to guide him a bit, but he's having so much fun exploring you, devoted as he presses kisses across your cheeks, hands fumbling until one dips into your soppy interest. "Ah!"

"There, that's good?" He pulls back again, asking softly, you nod in response and he sinks it just a little deeper, exhaling as he pulls his finger out then.

"Back in, back in!" You're whining out, you're spread wide on Professor Nanami's desk, the thrill rushing through you, making you drip along his polished cherry wood in the empty class.

"Wanna taste it, though," you're a flustered mess when Ino sucks you right off his finger, moaning, cheeks hollowing as if you're the sweetest thing. "Oh my god, you're so yummy..."

"I am?" He kneels now, and you're panicking just a bit, tugging at his sleek brown strands.

"Wanna kiss you here, is it okay?"

"Y-yes if you- oh!" He's flicking his tongue up your slit, pushing your plump lips apart to eye you, breath hitting as you hold up your pleated skirt for him. "Ino!"

"It's so pretty," he doesn't know where to lick or what to do, pressing a kiss against your hood and stealing more of that flavor on his lips, feeling you tugging at his hair and exhaling, hands pressing firmly into your thighs, when the lock clicks, but he doesn't hear it over your soft whines, and neither do you.

Which leads Professor Nanami, exhausted and ready to take a nap in his damn office, to see his prettiest straight A student spread wide on his desk, and his other straight A student kissing her between her thighs. Nanami shuts the door quickly, locking it and striding up, when your fucked out eyes widen and see him, and you panic, shoving off the desk and gesturing wildly.

Ino, who worships the ground Nanami walks on, is clearly pussy drunk - and Nanami can understand, he got a glimpse of it, and just that has his cock throbbing.

He's jerked off to you more times than he'd ever admit, he shouldn't, you're his student and his law student at that, he can't think that way about you, especially being one of his brightest, and with a good kid like Ino. But fuck if he hasn't pictured being between your thighs instead, teaching you what it's like to really get fucked, now he wasn't too much older at thirty five, but he still felt shitty thinking it all.

"Professor Nanami, I'm so sorry! Oh my god, please, I..." You're panicked while Ino is furiously red, covering his face while Nanami crosses his broad arms.

"It's my fault, Mr. Nanami, not her, don't get her in trouble, I couldn't stop myself," he rubs the back of his neck and Nanami eyes his now discheveled desk, sighing and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Looked like you weren't doing it correctly," he says, making the both of you pause now, and you're blushing furiously as Nanami eyes you, hazel gaze drifting down your body like a caress. Every girl fawned over his handsome features, you weren't immune to them, but to have him look at you like that, made your situation worse.

"I have no clue what I'm doing, no." You look at Ino with wide eyes. "Can you... show me?"

"Show you!? Ino have you lost it!?" You're tugging at his black sweater, and he brushes a thumb across your cheek.

"I wanna know how to please you, baby." You melt at how sweet he is, fully expecting Professor Nanami to deny the request, but his huge, veiny hand loosens his silky tie as he comes closer now, leaning over you, the scent of his cologne filling your senses.

"Up on the desk then, love," his soft command is met with him lifting you like you're nothing, sitting your right on the desk now, his desk, tilting your chin up to look at him. "So tell me, when you play with your pretty pussy, do you stick your little fingers in, or rub your clit?"

Your mouth goes dry at the statement, Ino is looking at you with those pretty eyes, ever curious, your cheeks heat up, decorating your skin with color. "My clit, Professor."

"So we'll focus there first." Nanami methodically slips your panties down your thighs, biting back a moan when your scent hits him, panties that may or may not have ended up in his pocket. Nanami may or may not need these later. "Come on then," he gestures and Ino eagerly gets on his knees - your boyfriend and your stupidly hot professor, this was not how you thought your first time getting eaten out would be. "Look here."

"Pretty, so pretty," Ino's words make Nanami chuckle, spreading you wide so he can show Ino where your clit is, lifting your hood, and that's when Nanami and Ino see your twitchy little clit, you whine out, biting your lip.

"She is pretty." You can't even look at them then, covering your face. "You'd focus there since that's how she plays with herself." He looks up then, fingers pressing against your calf to get your attention. "Should I demonstrate?"

"Yes, please." Your whisper ends his resolve, shoving him off the deep end, flicking the tip of his tongue on your little clit now, you gasp as it hits, and he moans as your sweetness pours against his slender lips, coating them in your gloss. "Oh!"

"You can finger her too, but she's tiny," he slips a digit in, feeling you grip him tightly, groaning as he thinks how good it'd be to slip inside your hot, slick little cunt. "So be gentle."

"I wouldn't hurt her," you're torn between embarrassment and utter lust, when Nanami curls his thick finger up, pressing on your spot while his tongue works in methodical little flicks, and your hands yank his perfect hair before you can stop yourself. "Oh, look, she loves it,"

"Mnh!" You're gushing down your law professor's face now, he has to palm the bulge over his slacks with his free hand, looking up at your pretty face, all contorted in pleasure.

"Are you close, baby?" Ino leans up now, caressing your face sweetly, you nod, gripping his sweater with your free hand while Nanami drags your cunt against his face. "Then cum, let me see you, then I'll make you cum again."

"Y-you sure?" You ask, he just nods, gripping your breasts, while Nanami's finger curls just so in your gummy walls, and you shatter, screaming out into Ino's lips while Nanami slurps you up, positively filthy - you have never cum like that, even with toys. He's lapping at you, eliciting more and more drooling arousal as you struggle to blink anything into vision. "Oh my god... mnh... Professor Nanami..."

He presses a kiss on your cunt now, and Ino eagerly sinks to his knees, kissing an overstimulated clit when Nanami is just an inch from your face, you flush as you see you've made a mess of him too, thumb brushing his slick on his chin, he grips your wrist then, while Ino slips his tongue up to your clit, and you bite back a moan.

"She likes it, good job," Nanami murmurs, Ino buries his face then, sucking your clit into his mouth without thinking, your thighs are trembling, cunt throbbing while Nanami places a hand under your chin, wrapping your throat. "A little light choking can make it even better, but you have to be careful. Want me to show you?"

You nod weakly, and Nanami squeezes your throat now, giving into the temptation and kissing you, letting you taste yourself on his lips and squeezing your delicate neck, delighting in your whines and cries, muffled as he squeezes. He almost cums just kissing you, seeing your innocent face lost in the pleasure, hearing your squelching wet cunt in his classroom. He's grabbing you, tongue sliding into your sweet mouth, while your cunt spasms around Ino's long, slender finger, delicately curling up.

"You're doing so well, darling," he whispers to you, encouraging you while you cling to his silky cheetah tie, oxygen fading while he squeezes, thumb pressing against your racing pulse while your eyes roll back in your skull, Ino is whining out desperately, his cock already leaking precum as he feels your aftershocks grip his finger, your arousal coating his face.

"Mnh!" You almost faint, ears ringing now, floating damn near blinded when Nanami releases his hand, and gently kisses against it, all while you're gripping his broad shoulders, almost falling the fuck over.

"Oh fuck..." Ino murmurs, leaning up and looking at you, you kiss him eagerly, hips twitching when Nanami runs his fingers over you, already so sensitive you almost cum from the contact, before giving you a firm smack, making you gasp out.

"That's for being bad." He says with a little smirk, you exhale, cunt stinging, before he glares at the two of you, fixing his collar and tie that you've led askew, crossing his arms again. "I better not find the two of you doing this again... without my permission."

"No, we won't, we are sorry Professor." Nanami just hums a bit, sitting with his legs spread wide in his seat, while Ino helps you down, fixing your skirt and eyeing you. "Are you okay? Was it good?"

"Good isn't even the word..." You bury your face a bit, embarassed as he pulls you against him, feeling Nanami's hungry eyes on you.

"I wanna do that all the time now." Ino murmurs, you giggle, taking his hands, before looking at the man who licks your cunt off his lips, raising a thin brow.

Never in a million years did you think Professor Nanami would have devoured you like that, the feeling makes your tummy tense, as you snuggle your boyfriend, who you feel his arousal, making you ever so curious, you touch it just a bit, watching his reaction.

"Baby you don't have to do anything." He's so sweet, you sigh, looking over at Nanami again.

"Maybe you can show me a lesson next?" You say softly, and his cock twitches in response, picturing giving you lessons on your knees, as you look up with those eyes that are fucking Nanami up currently.

"Yes, well, I'll see if I fit it in my schedule," he sets his glasses firmly on the bridge of his nose. "Out you two, now."

"Thank you, Professor." You two run off, and Nanami catches your gaze on him before you two shut the door, when he breaks down, thick cock slapping his dress shirt and drooling pre out of his reddened tip. He hisses as he touches it, panties slipped out of his pocket and right on his face.

"Ino that was insane!?" You're whispering, breathless, he smiles just a bit then, pressing you against the wall, where on the other side your professor is cumming to your taste he's lapping off your missing panties.

"You loved it though. But... I wanna do it alone," his whisper rushes across your skin as he whispers in your ear. "What do you think?"

"Yes," the two of you rush off to your dorm, leaving Nanami to contemplate just what lesson he has for you next while he's busting hot ropes into his hand of his classroom, cursing the clock when he realizes he's not getting a nap and it's your fault... surely a punishment is in order.

LMAO this was so dumb and smutty

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angel-writes-skz-here · 1 day ago

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Happenstance

Bang Chan x Reader ft. Seungmin Synopsis: Chan freaks when you tell him your pregnant, Seungmin sweeps in to pick up the pieces. What happens when you and Chan meet up six years later? Warnings: ANGST, not a lot of fluff, talk of an abortion, i think that's it. A/N: There will be second part to this fic! I apologize if Seungmin seems OOC, I've never written for him before so if i got something wrong, please kindly let me know. Comment if you want to be added to my taglist. @channieehrtz I hope this is close to what you wanted! Requests are OPEN

You held the test in your hands, your heart raced against your ribs. A small little plus sign just changed your life forever.

Pregnant.

You couldn’t believe it. You and Chan had been so careful and safe using condoms and even birth control. You took a deep breath, your body shaking as the realization settles into your being.

How would you tell Chan- could you tell him? Would he even want to know? The two of you never really discussed kids at length, here and there they were mentioned. How, someday, in the distant future having little ones would be fun. Well someday is now today- or about nine months from now.

You could take care of the issue, no problem. Schedule an abortion and leave it at that. Nothing had to change. But while calling the office to get the procedure scheduled, it just felt wrong. So you hung up mid-sentence with the woman and sighed into your hands. Fear flooded your body, Chris wasn’t going to be happy.

The night he came in, stress from the day weighing him down, dread and despair filled ever fiber of your being.

“Hey, baby how was your day?”

Baby

“Long,” he sighs as he presses a kiss to your temple. You close your eyes, trying to memorize the feeling of his lips on your skin, the warmth from his body that envelopes you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as you find your arms around his neck hugging him for dear life. Silent tears run down your cheeks as Chan processes the moment.

“Woah,” he says as his large hands splay over your back.

“What’s going on?” You sink into his embrace, the warmth, the familiarity. You shakily pull back, heart hammering in your chest.

“I’m pregnant,” it comes out as a whisper. Chan doesn’t say anything, his eyes grow slightly wide but he doesn’t utter a single word. He stares at you, his eyes and face both unreadable. His gaze in intense despite the unknowing emotion.

“Say something,” you urge him.

“How?” his voice is weak and cracks, “I thought you were on the pill.”

“I am, I- I don’t know how it happened, we were careful,” you stutter, anxiety picking at your insides.

“Well, are you going to get rid of it?” He asks, his voice holding the tone of complete impatience.

“I thought about it, but Chris I- I can’t,” you instinctively hold your arms over you stomach as you think about the loss of the life currently residing in your womb.

“Y/n, we can’t raise a kid. My career is way too taxing, I’d never see it, you’re not in the best place to have a kid,” he goes on but you stop him, a tinge of defense rising up within you.

“Chris, don’t tell me what I am or am not ready for.” You hold up a hand to stop him, “I’m not a child.”

Chris sighs at your words.

“I know, but I just don’t think it’s the best idea,” he tries to bring you close but the air between you has shifted.

“You don’t want this,” you scoff to yourself as your gaze falls to the floor. You knew he wouldn't be excited, but you didn't think things would shift so quickly, the air feeling like it's the beginning of the end.

“No, I don’t. And if you plan on keeping it, I can’t stay.” Your head snaps at attention.

“You’d leave me?”

“I don’t have a choice. I can’t have a kid, I’m not ready and the timing couldn’t be worse.” He sighs dragging a hand down his face.

“Oh my god,” tears brim your eyes.

“Y/n,” he tries to reach for you again. You step back. The both of you stare at each other silently; a silent decision hanging in the balance.

Chan sighs, the tension thick as smog.

“Ok,” he breathes and purses his lips nodding his head, he can’t meet your eyes. Your mouth hangs open slightly at the choice you know he’s made. Your face falls as he begins to speak again.

“I’ll be out of here by tomorrow.” He walks off to the bedroom and your left in the kitchen speechless.

Alone.

It’s been six years since Chan left, your daughter is happy, healthy, and she knew about Chan. You never hid who he was, never spoke ill of him, but she started asking more and more questions.

You walk into your apartment one night, Seungmin sitting with her on the couch. Neither of them hears you come in, and you hear her asking him a question.

“Why don’t I get to see my Appa?” Seungmin’s heart squeezes in his chest. Her little voice so sorrowful and confused. Seungmin sighs as he truly doesn’t know how to answer the little girl’s question.

“Hey you two,” you smile at your fiancée. He breathes a small sigh of relief as the little girl, once in his arms, is now pushing away from him to run to you. You bend down to her and her arms wrap around your neck.

“Hey, Mi Cha,” you squeeze her little body as she holds onto you. You stand up giving Seungmin a chaste kiss.

“Eomma,” she whines making both of you giggle.

“Come on, let’s grab dinner.” You take her hand as the three of you head out.

The three of you are sitting in a booth having a lovely dinner. Seungmin makes you laugh, and as your in the middle of it, your eyes flit to the door and your smile instantly falls and your breath hitches.

“Y/n?” he asks taking your hand. You feel it, but it doesn’t register in your brain. All that registers is Christopher. You knew the day would come, you just weren’t exactly sure how or when. Your heart begins to beat wildly as your bones turn to Jello. You hadn’t seen him since the day he left. He never called, he never texted you, he never even knew she had been born. Not that you purposefully tried to hide it from him, but it wasn’t something you were dying to tell him either. He made it very clear the day he left; he didn’t care.

Chan’s walking with two men you recognize, Han and Felix, two of his best friends. Two of Seungmin’s best friends. When the split happened, you and Seungmin were all ready close. He vowed to stay by your side, help you with doctors appointments, cooking and cleaning, anything you needed while pregnant, and as life tends to go, the two of you fell for each other and once Mi Cha was born, emotions only grew stronger.

The waitress starts walking your way and you inhale a shaky breath, a protective hand going around your daughter’s shoulders.

Maybe he wouldn’t notice you, maybe somehow, you’d be invisible to him.

Wrong.

Chan’s eyes meet yours as he follows the woman. He briefly stops in his tracks, his eyes landing on the sweet six-year-old by your side. He flits his eyes back to you before looking forward and following the woman in front of him.

Not behind us, don’t sit them behind us. Anywhere but there. You think to yourself.

“Here’s your table, I’ll be right back to take your drink order.” You hear the waitress say as she sets the menu’s down on the table right behind you. You shut your eyes and groan quietly. You feel it, the awkward tension. Does he? He has to, right? I mean he just seen his one and only daughter for the first time in six years and it’s not like he didn’t recognize you.

You look over to Seungmin who seen exactly what you did. His old friend, the father of your child, sitting in the booth behind you. He knew how broken up you were when Chan left. Seungmin wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive him for leaving you, for leaving the girl he’d come to call daughter.

“We can leave, right now. Go somewhere else, go home,” he offers quickly but you shake your head.

“No, Mi Cha wanted to eat here, let’s just enjoy our meal.” You sigh as you take another bite of food.

“Ok, but if you change your mind, just say the word.” He says and you nod.

“Thank you,” you smile. A little further into the meal, Mi Cha stands up in the booth, looking over the back of the seat.

Chan takes a bite of his food when he meets a pair of identical brown eyes. He stops mid chew and stares at the little girl, his heart aching in his chest. He knows exactly who she is.

“Channie hyung?” Han asks before following his brother’s gaze. Han’s eyes widen and Felix is the next to see her. The table goes silent for a moment. Mi Cha smiles at him sweetly, giving him a little wave of her hand.

“I’m Mi Cha,” she introduces herself. Chan’s heart flutters at the sound of her voice. Such a fitting name for his little girl. The guys look back to Chan who offers her a small smile.

He notices she has his dimples, his eye color, and chin. But your nose, eye shape and forehead. A perfect combination between the two of you.

Your heart races as you hear your little girl tell her name to the table behind you and you and Seungmin share a quick worried glance.

“Mi, sit down. That’s rude,” you tug on her dress. She looks down at you, and defiantly, hops down from the booth before you can stop her. She brings her stuffie along with her walking over to Chris.

“This is Ducha,” she says proudly as she shows Chris the stuffed dog. You slide out of the booth, ready to grab her by the arm when you see Chris take the toy from your child.

“How old is she?” He asks, his attention on her even though he can feel you staring holes into his body.

“She’s three. Eomma got her for me when I was little.” She looks back at you, Chan follows her gaze. His eyes rake over your frame, taking in the subtle highlights of your hair, the way your style had changed, and your body. Your body was just as beautiful as it was before Mi Cha, even if it did change. He offers you a smile, and you purse your lips back at him with a subtle nod.

“This is her,” she pulls you to him.

“Hey,” he says before giving your child back her stuffed animal.

“Hi,” you say and nod to Felix and Han who are looking between you like it’s the best rom com they’ve ever seen.

“Sorry to bother you, she got up before I could grab her.” You say as you start to pull her away.

“No, Eomma I was making a friend." She whines and looks back at Chris heartbroken. Chris feels a certain dominance rise up in him and he can’t let it go.

“Chan,” Felix asks as he watches his friend wipe his mouth before sliding out of the booth.

“Well, we can’t be friends if I don’t tell you my name,” he says as he bends down in front of your now seated daughter. Seungmin’s eyes are glued to Chan, and Chan’s eyes flit to you, a small smirk displaying on his lips.

“I’m Christopher.” He bows his head and your daughter giggles.

“That’s my appa’s name, but I don’t know him.” She says before picking up her fork and taking a bite. Your brows furrow with your eyes shut as Chan’s eyes flit to you.

You shake your head no and he stands up straight, giving you a look of “you should have told me” before he sits back down. Seungmin looks at you, pointedly knowing what’s coming.

“He’s gone this long,” he whispers so your daughter won’t hear.

“I know,” you respond back to him. The three of you finish your meal, the looming presence of Chan still tangible. You’re all getting up from the table when Mi Cha says she needs to use the bathroom. You look at Seungmin who offers to go grab the car for you.

“Thank you.” You tell him with a sweet kiss, one Chan doesn’t miss. You walk past his table taking your daughter to the bathroom. Once she’s finished you walk back out with her, Chan’s no longer at his table, neither are his friends.

You feel a little lighter knowing he’s gone. You expect to see the car waiting for you not far from the door, but instead it’s not there.

You glance around the parking lot only to find Seungmin talking to Chan. Your heart jumps into your throat as you quickly make your way over.

“You didn’t even care about her,” Seungmin says within ear shot of the two of you. They both hear your footsteps and look over at you.

“Let’s go,” Seungmin says as politely as he can. You put Mi Cha in the car, Chan watches helplessly as his daughter waves at him. Your eyes meet as you shut her door, Seungmin watches from the driver’s side.

“Can we talk?” Chan asks blocking your car door.

“I need to get home, Mi Cha has school tomorrow,” you try to politely decline but he won’t budge.

“Just a few minutes, I’ll drive you home if I need to.” He offers, his eyes pleading. You glance at Seungmin who raises his brows at you in surprise that you’re entertaining him.

“I’ll only be a minute,” you tell him. You chew on your bottom lip as you follow him up to the patio of the restaurant.

“What,” you ask with your arms folded across your chest.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You made it very clear how you felt about her.” You say simply. You get a good look at Chan, he’s bulked up since you were together, matured in many ways.

“Y/n, I know I screwed up but I had a right to know.” He tries to argue, anger rises up in your veins.

“And I had a right to not be alone during the scariest thing in my life!” Chan purses his lips.

“If I recall correctly, you weren’t.” he mumbles.

“Oh, fuck you,” you scoff, “Don’t be mad that he was the man you couldn’t be.”

Chan nods, “You’re right, he was. Y/n I was scared- petrified, when you told me you were pregnant. I know it’s no excuse, but it’s the truth. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to be a dad, I didn’t know how to be the man you needed.”

“So you chose to abandon me instead, cool.” You nod with pursed lips.

“I know it was wrong and I’m sorry, but I’ve really missed you and, and now I’ve met her. Y/n she’s amazing. Definitely not shy around strangers,” he chuckles to himself and you nod.

“Actually, she doesn’t do that very often.” You admit quietly.

“She’s not one to normally go up to people.” Chan smiles to himself.

“I miss you,” he says stepping closer to you, his right hand finding your hip. Your heart beat slams in your chest at the proximity.

“Chan,”

“Take me back, please. I’ll do right by you this time. I’ll stick around, I’ll help, I’ll learn or do whatever it takes.” He whispers, his face inches from yours.

"Just one more chance," he breathes. You go to open your mouth but he continues.

“Please, y/n, these last six years, they’ve been hell without you.”

“Chan, I’m engaged,” you show him the ring he silently noticed earlier in the evening.

“I don’t care, I want you. I want Mi Cha, I want us to be a family.”

“What about what I want? Hmm? Did it cross your mind that I don’t want you? That I don’t want you around my daughter since you could so easily leave her before she was even born?” Hurt and anger rise up in your chest, tears threatening to spill over.

“I’m getting married in six months, Chan. Seungmin loves me, he’s been there, he’s been a father to my daughter her whole life. You didn’t reach out once.” You push him back adrenaline kicking in to the point you feel shaky, but you keep your composure.

You turn on your heel to leave him standing there.

“At least let me be apart of her life,” he pleads. You freeze in your spot, you don’t turn around to face him, your profile appears over your shoulder.

“I’ll have to think about it.”

“She’s my daughter,” he says defensively.

“Which is why you should understand my hesitation. I don’t want you showing up for a year and leaving because you get mad, scared or whatever else. I will not let you put her through the hell you put me through.”

Tags: @breakmeoff

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imnez-daydreams · 3 days ago

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listen, have i watched sinners ? no. do i know anything about the movie beyond uhh there's vampires ? also no. do i even know what remmick looks like ? still a no. am i still gonna devour this fic i stumbled upon on my feed ? you bet i am !!!

“Ain’t you—” you began to say, but he beat you to it, laughing low in his throat as he took a slow, deliberate step forward. “Lord, you spook easy,” he said, voice thick just soft enough to make you lean in without meaning to. “Didn’t mean to startle you, sugar. Though I s’pose I got a knack for it.”

okay well im already melting. "sugar" ?? reader leaning towards remmick from his soft voice is so real.

"You didn’t even get another sentence out before he titled his head, slow and deliberate, and stepped in just a tad closer."

ooo he's already eyeing reader like a predator eyeing his prey. tilting his head slow, moving into reader's space.

He took a step closer, and you backed up, your heart pounding faster. But your feet wouldn’t move. You wanted to run, but your body was paralyzed. The closer he came, the harder it was to breathe. “You don’t just walk away from me, sugar,” he said, his voice smooth like silk, but each word felt like a weight. “You don’t follow me into the woods and think you can just... leave.”

gosh the transition from polite image yet a sense of something off to cold, heartless and hungry is written so well !! the smile that doesn't reach his eyes, the kind words that don't fit quite right when leaving his mouth. then that last line, can feeeeel the possessiveness already rolling off his tongue.

“You wanna know what it felt like?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, eyes narrowing. The way he looked at you then—like he was studying something precious, something fragile—made a shiver crawl down your spine. “What it felt like to kill Mrs. Hatcher?”

i like the juxtaposition of his gaze to his words. looking at reader with a gentle gaze yet talking about committing a violent crime.

“You should’ve stayed away,” he murmured, taking another step closer, and your body lurched, the terror of it all finally making your feet move. But not fast enough. “But now it’s too late darlin’ cause I intend to keep you for myself now.”

hey mister if you keep calling reader those sweet pet names you can keep me !! jokes aside the build up to the chasing is soo good ! the realisation dawning on reader that this man isnt even a man, something darker and unexplainable. that cold realisation turning into dread when he stakes his claim.

Behind you, his footsteps didn’t rush. He wasn’t chasing. He was following. Like a predator who already knew exactly where you’d end up. “Keep running,” he called, voice almost playful. Almost. “It’ll only make me want to fuck you harder.” You didn’t scream. You couldn’t. Your throat was tight with terror, your body buzzing with the kind of panic that drowns thought.

sorry for being depraved on main but this is so hot i cant even lie akdhsidke. LISTENN. remmick not even running, just leisurely following after reader. knows he can easily catch up so its like he's savouring your fear, your hopeful naivety thinking you can escape him. then him playfully telling reader continue running. then, then that statement about how running is just gonna make him fuck reader harder. hello. (me when)

"He yelled out your name—how’d he even know your name? There was a guttural edge to his voice—low, primal—that tore something loose in you. You cried silently, not daring to make noise, not out of fear, but because your body didn’t know what else to do."

omg been watching and listening !! and reader has been none the wiser all this time. i like how reader's reaction is realistic too, those times when tears just escape you not cause of the sadness or fear but because the situation you're in seems so hopeless, tears just make their path down your face.

He takes his hand from your neck, and you barely register when it slips beneath your long nightgown. One hand forcefully parts your thighs—rough and possessive—while the other holds your wrists captive above your head. "You don’t even know," he murmurs, his voice almost gentle, as he continues "You're fortunate that I want you all to myself."

remmick what is that supposed to mean mister. are there worse monsters than you ? but again i really like the duality of it all, gentle and soft voice with the backdrop of violent and rough hands.

And as his lips brush against your ear, whispering promises of pleasure and pain, you can't help but wonder what fate has brought you to this moment, where his will dominates your own and the line between fear and longing blurs into something dangerous and intoxicating.

goodness that wholeee last line is so beautifully described. even though its a long one it doesn't even feel dragged on, just a string of pretty words dancing.

"Don’t look away," he breathed, his nose brushing yours with each slow, deliberate motion—like he needed you to witness what he was doing. You did, though your vision blurred with the weight of it all. Maybe it was instinct, maybe something deeper—but you obeyed. Looking into his eyes was like staring down a storm: wild, old, and wholly untamable.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he murmured again, breath hitching against your cheek, his drawl low and possessive. “Ain’t no one ever gonna see you like this but me, you understand?”

EYE CONTACTTTTT. i go crazy over this. feral even. love love love. the smut was so good !!! how reader feels that pull, can't stop wanting it even though the warning bells are ringing. the possessiveness, the claiming. grrr.

“You’re mine now,” he breathed, voice coated in something reverent and frightening all at once. “Ain’t just sayin’ that either—I felt it in my bones the second I saw you. Like God carved you out just for me.”

ohhhhhhhdndkdjeiedklfl. im a sucker for religious themes this is so good. reverent ??? as if reader was carved by God just for remmick ?????? in shambles this is delicious writing.

phew that was a ride !! thank you ada for introducing me to sinners :DD this was sooo good and well written, it really makes me wanna read other works of this character ! dont mind me snooping through remmick's tags after this hehe. thank you for writing, splendid work ada <3

Baked In Blood

summary: Driven by kindness, you walk to a secluded house every day, leaving freshly baked pies for the mysterious man who never shows himself. But when your neighbor, Mrs. Hatcher, is violently killed one night, everything changes. As fear spreads through the town, the man you've been silently serving steps into your life—and the true, terrifying nature of his obsession begins to unravel.

warnings: non-con, dub-con, explicit content, dirty talk, mentions of blood and murder, forest sex, prey and predator dynamics

pairing: dark!remmick x fem!reader

words: 6k

based off this request

The air was thick with that early morning quiet — not cold, but not warm yet either. Just still. Hushed. Like the world hadn’t quite decided to wake up. The pie in your hands was still warm, warmed in a red gingham towel that gave a slight aroma of sugar and cinnamon. You carried it like you always did, how you carried it to his house every morning. Steady, careful, both hands under the dish so the heat didn’t slip through and burn your fingers.

You took the long way, even though you didn’t have to. Past the lot where the hydrangeas used to grow, Past the old gas station that hadn’t sold gas in years. The street was empty, save for a squirrel darting across the sidewalk and a newspaper half soaked in dew.

You liked mornings like this. Quiet ones. Nobody needing anything from you yet.

His house sat at the far end of the block, past where the road cracked deeper and the shade settled in early. You could barely see the roofline through the trees most days. No cars in the drive. No signs of the sun shining into his house in the mornings, windows and curtains closed. Just that porch with the crooked step and the step and the front door that never opened.

You didn’t know who he was. No one really did.

You’d never seen him up close. Never heard his voice. Just a name once, muttered by a neighbor who looked like she regretted saying it the second it left her mouth.

But none of that mattered. Never mattered to you.

You climbed the creaking and worn steps like usual, pie in hand, the porch groaning under your weight. You paused at the door. Knocked once… twice then three times and that was it. Never more.

SIlence only met you. Not even a sign of a curtain drawing back. Though you waited just for a few seconds more. Long enough to maybe give him a chance to open the door and accept the pie you usually baked.

There were signs he took the dishes you left on the little table posted by the chair on his porch. And you needed him to open the door sooner or later in the future because you sure were running out your plates and dishes.

So you crouched down slightly, set the pie down on the small round table. You adjusted the towel, smoothed it down with your fingers. And then left like you always did. Same way you came. With your back turned you never saw the figure that stood by the window– shifting the curtain ever so slightly to watch you leave.

It was a good twenty five minutes by the time you reached your gates, your rhoughts still back at that old house. You’d never gotten anything in return except for an empty door. But it didn’t stop you. Some things couldn’t be helped, and kindness was one of them. It was just who you were.

You didn’t know why you were this way– always looking out for others, always taking the time to lend a hand, even if it meant nothing in return. Maybe it was because your mama had always taught you that small acts of kindness could make all the difference in a world that could be a little too harsh and unyielding sometimes. Or maybe it was just your heart, too damn big for its own good.

You’d seen people look at you strangely when you held the door open for them or when you offered a smile to the grumpy old guy who owned a small grocery store cross the street who barely even returned the smile. But you didn’t mind. You’d always been this way, and you’d always keep doing it— whether it was helping your neighbor Mrs Hatcher with her groceries or just leaving one too many baked goods for a man who never even bothered to show his face.

As you reached the steps of your porch, you noticed Mrs Hatcher was sitting outside again, her rocking chair creaking steadily. The morning sun barely touched her, casting her face in a sharp light that made her look even more critical than usual. You almost didn’t want to stop, but you were too polite, so you gave her a quick wave as you neared the gate.

She didn't wave back. Not like how she would regularly do so. Instead, she looked you up and down, her eyes narrowing slightly, and for a moment, the silence between you both felt a little too thick. “Been out walking again, huh?” she said, her voice carrying the same sharpness it always did, but now there was something else in it— a little more judgement, a little less warmth than usual.

You nodded. “Just dropped something off.”

Her eyes flickered toward the street, and she took a slow drag from her cigarette, the smoke curling up into the air like it had a mind of its own. “And what’s that, exactly? Your ‘good deed’ for the day?” You shifted on your feet, a little uncomfortable, but you didn’t want to seem rude. “Just took the guy that lives in that old house near the woods a pie. I baked it in the morning.”

Mrs Hatcher raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair as if shw was trying to make some sense of you. “That house,” she started slowly, like she was comprehending her own words in her head before letting them out, “It ain’t one for pies, sugar. And it ain’t one for kindness neither. You might want to stop before you‘re the only one left out there handing things to a ghost.”

You felt a small flutter in your chest, but you didn’t show it. Sure you’ve heard the whispers about that house— from the strange way it sat, half hidden behind thick trees, the rumours that no one had ever seen the man who supposedly lived there. People called him strange, distant, dangerous even, but it didn’t faze you. You didn’t need to know him to know that everyone deserved a little kindness.

“I’m sure he’ll like it,” you said simply, smiling. “He’s always been taking them in.”

Mrs Hatcher’s lips pressed together in a thin line. “Is that so huh?” She leaned forward, the creaking of her chair louder now, her tone dripping with a subtle challenge. “Well, maybe he don’t mind. But I’m telling you sugar, one day you’ll find out kindness don’t always come back around the way you think it will.”

You didn’t know why, but there was something in the way she said it that left a bitter taste in your mouth. Something that didn't sit right. But you ignored it, like you always did with her not bothering to listen to any of the bullshit any more, you just gave a simple smile and nodded. “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you said, offering a half smile before stepping toward your front door.

The last thing you heard before you entered was Mrs Hatcher’s voice, barely above a murmur, like she was talking to herself. “Just be careful, girl. There’s kindness… and then there’s being a fool for it, and that’s you right now.”

You didn’t let it bother you. It was just Mrs Hatcher, always watching, always waiting for something to go wrong. But somehow, her words hung in the air, and for the first time in a while, you wondered if there might be more to her warning then you realized.

Everyone was shocked to hear the news, but nobody could say they were surprised.

It wasn’t the kind of thing that was completely unexpected in a place like this. The kind of place where people get to be known by their routines, their quirks and their habits. So when the sheriff made his rounds, grim faced and speaking low, people leaned in a little closer, nodding pretending they didn’t already know.

Mrs Hatcher had been found in her chair— rocking still, like she was just taking one of her usual evening naps. But this time, her chair wasn’t creaking from the wear of decades. It was still in a way it never had been before. Her neck, torn open, blood spread thick across the porch, pooling like dark wine against the old wood.

It was late, the street bathed in that heavy hush. The silence clung to the scene, to the dark windows and the front door that creaked ever so slightly due to the wind.

But it wasn’t just the manner of her death that had the town rattled. It was the fact that it had happened right there. Just a few houses down from where you could practically hear the crickets and see the stars in their endless stretch above. Mrs Hatcher had never been the type to keep quiet. She knew too much, talked too loud, watched too long— and all her sharp words, there was always a thin, hidden thread of fear running underneath them.

The sheriff said it was too early to say much. But you didn’t need to be a damn detective to know that whatever had happened to Mrs Hatcher, it had come from the deep shadows beyond the streetlight’s reach. And that, as always, made you nervous.

You stood at the edge of the gathering, the murmurs of the townsfolk was a distant hum as your eyes were just fixed on Mrs Hatcher's porch. The air was thick with the scent of iron and something else— something you couldn’t quite place.

As you begin to take a cautious step closer, a sudden chill ran down your spine. You turned slightly, sensing a presence behind you.

Remmick stood there, half shrouded in shadow, his eyes reflecting the dim light with an unsettling gleam. His expression was unreadable, but there was a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth when he saw your reaction to him somehow startling you.

You didn’t answer right away— couldn’t, really. It wasn’t just that he’d come out of nowhere. It was that this was the first time you were actually seeing him. Up close. And he wasn’t what you expected. He was just a normal man. Tall, wth skin pale like it hadn’t met sunlight in years. But it wasn’t his looks that held you. It was something else you couldn't quite take hold on.

“You’re…” The words trailed from your lips, thin and uncertain,

“Remmick,” he offered, with the faintest tilt of his head, the smile still ghosting at the corners of his mouth. “Though it sounds like folks ‘round here prefer other names for me.”

He glanced across the street, toward the sea of curious people that had gathered in front of Mrs Hatcher’s house. The porch light burned too bright now, casting hard shadows over shaken faces and murmured prayers. Someone was crying, but no one had dared to step past the old woman’s front gate. No one even noticed him. Not with the chaos. Not with the way the fear made them all look anywhere but the dark.

“Hell of a night,” he muttered, almost to himself, voice curing like smoke in the stillness.

Then he looked back at you. “You been bringing those baked goods, didn’t you, specially the one today?”

You blinked. “What?”

“The one in the red towel. Sugar and cinnamon.” His gaze lingered. “Tasted real good.”

Unease tightened in your chest, and something more but you weren’t sure if it was fear or something colder.

He chuckled again—low, almost fond. “Meant to bring the dish back. Got a mind like a cracked jar, though. Things slip out easy.”

You swallowed, unsure if you meant to nod.

“If you’re not too spooked to walk back with me,” he said, voice light like he was asking you to fetch a paper off the porch, “I could hand it off now.”

He held your gaze a second longer, then added with a crooked smile, “Seems like nobody’s watchin’ but you anyhow.”

You cleared your thrat, trying to keep your voice steady. “That’s alright, I can just come by in the mornin’ and pick it up.”

You didn’t even get another sentence out before he titled his head, slow and deliberate, and stepped in just a tad closer. “Nah,” he said, low and smooth, like he was talking to some skittish animal. “Best do it now.” There was something in the way he said it—not harsh, but final. As if he was the one deciding for you instead.

You tried to laugh it off, light and easy. “It’s no trouble really. I don't mind—”

“But I do,” he cut in, still smiling. “Ain’t polite, lettin’ a lady like you walk all the way just to fetch her own plate back. ‘Sides, I got somethin’ for you.” That made you pause. “A gift,” he added, like he was sweetening the offer, though the word came off strange in his mouth, like he’d never had much reason to use it. “For all those baked goods. Seemed only right.”

You hesitated, eyes flicking toward the crowd again that was still buzzing around Mrs Hatcher’s porch, not a single one of them looking in your direction. His voice dropped slightly, though the smile stayed. “AIn’t nobody gonna notice you’re gone, sugar. Not tonight.”

And it was true. They wouldn’t. The streetlamps were dim, the shadows stretched long, and everyone’s attention was wrapped up on what had happened. You could simply leave easy right now, and nobody would even call your name.

You swallowed, throat dry.

He turned then, back toward the narrow path leading toward the woods. “C’mon,” he said over his shoulder, his husky and slow with a soft roughness to it. “It’s just a short walk. You already know the way.”

Yeah a short walk… a twenty five minute short walk with a guy you baked for but he never did have the face to open the door, and suddenly he’s asking you to follow him home after the events that took place tonight. But you didn’t give it a thought any longer, telling yourself you were just now paranoid. So you just followed behind him.

The road felt longer this time. Each step kicked up dust that didn’t seem to settle, and the cicadas had gone quiet, like even they didn’t want to listen in. You kept a few paces behind him, watching the sway of his shoulders, the way he didn’t look back once—not even to make sure you were still there.

You told yourself it was fine. He was just being polite. Returning a dish, offering a gift. That’s all it was.

But the dark felt thicker out here. Heavier. Like it was pressing in, one slow breath at a time.

It was a good ten minutes before either of you spoke.

Just shoes on the forest floor. The occasional creak of a distant fence outside of the trees shifting in the wind. You were starting to think maybe he wasn’t much for small talk—maybe he’d changed his mind about that “gift” entirely—when his voice finally cut through the dark.

“You always that generous with folks who don’t bother sayin’ thank you?”

You blinked. “Figured you were just shy.”

That made him huff a laugh. “Is that what they’re callin’ it these days.”

You could see the back of his head tilt slightly, like he was chewing on whatever thought came next. Then he added, “Truth be told, I didn’t expect you to keep bringin’ those goods. Thought you’d give up after the second one went untouched.”

“They weren’t untouched,” you said quietly.

Another beat of silence.

“No,” he said at last. “No, they weren’t.”

And that was all he said.

Just enough to make your skin prickle.

You kept walking, telling yourself you were just tired. Just tired and rattled from everything with Mrs. Hatcher. But still, something in his voice made you wonder if the pies were all he’d been taking.

The road narrowed as you walked, the trees leaning in closer like they were listening, their bare branches creaking softly in the wind as though whispering to one another. Crickets had gone quiet somewhere along the way. You didn’t notice when. Just that the silence had started to hum, low and constant, like something was holding its breath.

“You always walk this way alone?” he asked, voice low like he was afraid to break something in the dark, or maybe like he hoped he would.

You glanced at him. “Most mornings.”

“Brave,” he muttered, though it didn’t sound like praise. “Folks ‘round here talk too much and see too little. That kind of silence’s dangerous when no one’s listenin’ right.”

“You listen?”

“Sometimes,” he said. Then, with a half-smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes, “Don’t mean I always like what I hear.” You didn’t answer that. Just kept your eyes ahead, the trees curling over the path like ribs, and the moonlight catching in strange, pale flashes on the gravel. It wasn’t the first time you’d taken this road, but it felt unfamiliar now, like the dirt had been stirred different, like something unseen had stepped ahead of you first and left the path colder behind it.

“Why now?” you asked suddenly, the question clawing out before you could think better of it. “All this time, you never said a word. Never showed your face. Then tonight, after—” you didn’t finish the sentence. You didn’t need to. The name didn’t need to be said again out loud.

He took his time responding, just like he took his time walking. “Reckon I just figured the timing was right.”

“That because of Mrs. Hatcher?”

That smile again. Crooked. Sharp at the edges. “Didn’t say that.”

You stopped walking for a beat, not because you meant to, but because something in your chest pulled tight. “But you didn’t say it wasn’t.”

He looked back at you slowly, eyes gleaming in the dark like wet stones, and for a second, his face was half-lit by the moon, carved in angles and shadows that didn’t look entirely human. “You ask a lot of questions for someone still walkin’ beside me.”

That stopped you more than anything. Not the words, but the way he said them—calm, like he was commenting on the weather. Like he already knew you’d keep walking anyway.

And you did.

Maybe it was foolishness. Maybe it was that same part of you that kept leaving pies at the door of a man you’d never seen, even when the dishes never came back. That stupid softness your mama used to call your ‘God-given curse.’ Either way, your feet moved before your mouth could argue.

Ten more minutes, you told yourself. Just ten more minutes. And then you’d turn around.

But deep down, you already knew you wouldn’t.

The woods felt suffocating, each step you took making the air grow thicker, heavier, as though something in the darkness was pressing against you. It wasn’t just the trees, it wasn’t just the silence. It was him.

Remmick walked ahead of you, so calm, so assured—like this was all part of some twisted game, and you were the only one who didn’t know the rules. His back was turned, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was aware of you, every movement of yours, every step you took.

Finally, you couldn’t do it anymore. The weight of his presence, the heavy silence, the way he didn’t even seem to care that you were still walking behind him—it all piled up. You had to say something.

“I think I’m just gonna head home,” you said, your voice shaky, betraying the panic you were trying to keep under control. “You can just give me the dishes and gifts another time.” Your words felt like a desperate attempt to break the tension, but they fell into the woods like a pebble into a deep, dark well—no echo, no response.

For a moment, there was nothing but the low rustling of the trees, the soft whisper of the night wind. Then, without turning to face you, his voice cut through the air—low, dark, chilling.

“Daft.”

It wasn’t a word. It was a sentence. A judgment.

You froze. His voice, though soft, felt like it was wrapping around your throat, squeezing just enough to make it hard to breathe. Your heart skipped a beat, your skin prickling. You couldn’t tell whether it was fear, the cold, or something else entirely making your body shudder.

Your mouth went dry, but you tried to force out something—anything to break this moment, this growing nightmare. “I—I'm just not feeling well. I think I should go.”

You took a step back, but he wasn’t having it. He didn’t even turn to face you.

“Daft,” he repeated, sharper now. “You think I’d let you walk away after you followed me here?” Your breath hitched. Your feet felt glued to the ground, like the air was too thick to move through. You wanted to run, to scream, but your body betrayed you, stuck in place as if you were trapped in quicksand.

You looked at him now—his back still turned—but something about his posture had shifted. It wasn’t just his body language, though. It was in the air. It was in the space between you. Something darker had taken root, something unrecognizable.

He finally turned, slowly, deliberately, and the smile he gave you wasn’t the same one from earlier. There was nothing warm in it. It was sharp, cold, like a blade dragging across skin.

You swallowed hard, your throat tight. His eyes locked onto yours, but they were different now—flickers of red deepening in the corners, glowing faintly in the dim light. He didn’t look human but at the same time he did.

There it was again—his smile, wider now, crueler. It made your stomach twist, nausea rising up your throat.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” he asked, his voice almost too calm. “You think you’re safe, walking through the woods like this? Like I’m some normal guy you can just forget about?” He took another step toward you, and you felt yourself sway back, but your feet stayed planted.

His eyes were glowing now, too bright in the dark, his pupils slit like a predator’s. This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be happening.

You blinked, eyes wide. Your mouth opened, but no words came. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

“Her blood was so warm,” he whispered, as if speaking to himself, the words heavy with something sinister. “The moment my teeth sank into her throat, she stopped fighting. She knew. She knew she couldn’t outrun it, couldn’t escape me. But she didn’t stop trying, not at first. She kicked. She scratched. She screamed—but there was no sound. No sound at all once I got my hand over her mouth.”

You could barely hold your ground now, your legs trembling. Every word he said made you want to run, but your body was frozen, immobilized by something you couldn’t explain.

“She tried so hard to get away,” Remmick continued, his voice softer now, like he was savoring the memory. “But the harder she fought, the better it felt. I could feel her pulse—fast, frantic, desperate. It was like the world had slowed down, and all I could hear was the sound of her blood rushing, beating in her veins, until it wasn’t.”

Your body was shaking now, your hands clenched into fists by your sides. You couldn’t escape his gaze, couldn’t escape the pull of his voice.

“She went limp, finally. And I could taste it—the victory, the power. The moment her body stopped fighting? That was the moment I knew. I knew it was perfect.”

You felt sick, but you couldn’t look away. His eyes—those damn eyes—had you trapped, every word sinking deeper into your chest, twisting, turning.

That was when you began running.

Branches whipped your arms and tore at your clothes, but you didn’t feel it. You were moving on instinct—raw, clumsy, frantic. The darkness swallowed the path, and still you ran, lungs burning, eyes stinging. You didn’t even know where you were going. Just away.

Then your foot caught—root, rock, something—and the forest flipped sideways. You hit the ground hard, your palms shredding on gravel and bark. The pain jolted up your arms and knocked the air from your lungs. You scrambled to your feet, but your ankle screamed the second you put weight on it. There wasn’t time—he was too close.

So you crawled. Half-dragging yourself through the underbrush, eyes wild, hands trembling, and ducked behind the thick trunk of a gnarled pine. You pressed yourself against the bark, heart slamming against your ribs so loud you were sure he could hear it. The forest had gone still.

Dead still.

You clamped a hand over your mouth to quiet your breathing, every breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps through your nose.

He yelled out your name—how’d he even know your name? There was a guttural edge to his voice—low, primal—that tore something loose in you. You cried silently, not daring to make noise, not out of fear, but because your body didn’t know what else to do.

He found you before you could move again — an arm slipping around your waist from behind. You barely had time to gasp before he pulled you back, gently but firmly, like you'd simply wandered too far.

Then, without warning, your head was guided down, not slammed, but pressed hard enough into the earth that the shock still jarred you. Dizziness bloomed behind your eyes. By the time you blinked through it, Remmick was already on top of you, his body blanketing yours with a frightening calm. His chest pressed against your back, steady, too steady. One hand slid up, slow and deliberate, until it curled around your throat — not choking, just holding. Controlling.

A broken sound escaped you as tears streamed down your face, hot and helpless. Your fingers clawed instinctively at his hand, the one wrapped so carefully—so cruelly around your throat. There was no strength in your resistance, only fear and the desperate hope that he might hesitate.

You try to push against his hold, but he only tightens his grip, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His words echo in your mind as fear and confusion swirl within you. You feel trapped, vulnerable beneath him as he looms over you with a hunger in his eyes that chills you to the core.

You can see the intensity of his gaze fixed upon you, a mixture of desire and possession that makes your heart race with both terror and a strange, forbidden thrill. And as his lips brush against your ear, whispering promises of pleasure and pain, you can't help but wonder what fate has brought you to this moment, where his will dominates your own and the line between fear and longing blurs into something dangerous and intoxicating.

You don’t even notice he’s moved your undergarments aside, not warning you.You suddenly wince as he inserts two fingers at once, not bothering to be gentle. His breath is hot on your neck, his voice a low growl. "You're mine now. Every part of you belongs to me." You can feel his heartbeat, steady and calm, unlike your own which is pounding wildly against your ribs. His fingers move inside you, exploring, claiming, and you gasp, your body betraying you with a shiver of pleasure.

He shifts slightly, his lips trailing down from your ear to your collarbone, leaving a path of fire in their wake. "You can fight it all you want," he whispers, his voice like velvet darkness, "but your body knows who it belongs to." His thumb finds your most sensitive spot, circling slowly, deliberately, drawing out a moan from deep within you despite the fear that still lingers in your eyes.

You buck against him, a futile attempt to deny the sensations coursing through you.

He laughs softly against your skin, a sound that resonates with triumph. His teeth graze your shoulder, a gentle bite that should be a warning, but your mind is a swirl of confusion and desire. The nightgown tangles around your waist as he shifts again, releasing your wrists to push the fabric higher.

Oddly enough, when your fight waned, that was when things…changed. "There she is," he says, his hands warm on your bare hips. You know you should run, scream, do anything to break free from the spell his touch weaves around you, but your muscles betray you, your body succumbing in various ways as pleasure envelops you completely.

"You were made for this," he breathes, his eyes dark with certainty. He pins you down again, and this time you don’t struggle, the fight leaving your limbs as your own desires betray you. You can sense the mounting bliss intensifying within you, building pressure in your lower core as you teeter on the edge, about to climax on his fingers.

He watches your face closely, like a man studying a piece of art, ready for the moment when it overtakes you. "There you go darlin’," he murmurs, urging you on, and the sound of his voice is the final push. You cry out as waves of release crash through you and every nerve in your body sings with surrender.

He holds you through it, his fingers slowing to a languid pace until your breathing evens and your heart calms, pulling back slightly to look at you, satisfaction etched across his face. He removes his fingers slowly and careful, you don’t even have a second to even catch a break before you can hear the rustling of his belt and pants and you know what's coming. He parts your legs wider, opening you to him again, and presses against your entrance.

“Gonna claim ya real good now darlin’, you’re doing such a good job.” The sensation of him entering you is intense—stretching, burning, and pulling you apart with the thick, weighty movement of his shaft. He fills you completely, every inch commanding submission, and you arch under him, the feeling overwhelming and all-consuming.

His hands grip your hips, steadying you, pulling you closer as he begins to move. He thrusts slow and deep, each motion a deliberate staking of his claim, and your body responds in ways you can't control, meeting his rhythm, rising to meet him as he buries himself inside you over and over.

Your mind reels with the impossibility of it, the way desire silences resistance, and your body betrays every instinct to flee, surrendering instead to the brutal, relentless pleasure he forces upon you. You gasp his name, a broken plea caught between a cry and a moan, and he only pushes harder, his breath hot and wild against your throat.

"That's it," he groans, his voice rough with need, "take it all."

As he bent down to kiss you, you without thinking returned the gesture. His thumb grazed your damp skin, and a soft hum in his throat soon transformed into a groan. You didn't desire it, nor did your mind, yet it seemed as though your body was operating independently, driven by hormones.

His hand snaked through your hair, pulling gently as his lips pressed against yours with a fierce hunger. The kiss deepened, full of demand and promise, his teeth and tongue teasing you until you couldn't tell where you ended and he began. The force of it all—the thrusting, the kissing, the claiming—pulled you further into a daze where pleasure eclipsed pain, and you were lost, floating on the brink of something infinite.

Your body arched helplessly, wave after wave of sensation leaving you breathless, raw, and vulnerable. He quickened his pace, his movements more urgent, pushing you both toward an inevitable release. The air was thick with the sound of skin on skin, punctuated by his ragged breaths and your own soft, involuntary cries. It was too much, too fast, and yet nothing else mattered in those moments but the wild, terrible ecstasy of being taken, utterly and completely.

You closed your eyes, too overcome with the overstimulation, he curved his hips deeper into you. “Open your eyes darlin’.” He says getting your attention again. You obeyed, though some quiet part of you understood how dangerous it was—how locking eyes with the one unraveling you piece by piece would only carve the memory deeper.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he murmured again, breath hitching against your cheek, his drawl low and possessive. “Ain’t no one ever gonna see you like this but me, you understand?”

The air felt thick, like the woods themselves were leaning in to watch. His nose brushed yours with every movement, his brow pressed to your temple. You weren’t sure when the tears started again, but they did—quiet, unrelenting.

As he continued to whisper shameful, dirty words to you, saying things like you’d never leave him, and as he still relentelly thrusted into you, his mouth found your neck—then came the sharp, sinking pain of his bite. It wasn’t just teeth. It was a claim. A seal. Something final.

And in the haze of it all, in the breathless dark, you stopped fighting the truth. Somewhere between fear and surrender… you accepted it.

#remmick x reader #remmick #sinners

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mi9yuz · 3 days ago

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medium rare 🐮 kmg

fluff wc 401 / since todays my bday…

Honestly, you weren’t even that excited to go out the night of your birthday. The whole "celebrating yourself" notion just dropped your stomach. Still, they all insisted, and well, that was maybe the beginning of Korean BBQ, loud laughter, and soju bottles scattered on the table before the first piece of meat went onto the grill.

You were halfway through pouring when somebody came up.

“Hi, I’m Mingyu. I’ll be taking care of you guys tonight,” and wow. That tall height, those dimples. Forearms and rolled sleeves. Very dangerous. “I heard it’s someone’s birthday?”

You gave him a half-wave as your friends all pointed at you as if you had committed some hideous crime.

The guy smiled. “Happy birthday. Would you mind if I took over the grill for you tonight?”

You blinked. “Oh—no, you don’t have to, we can—”

“Nah, I got it,” he said, picking up the tongs like he had been doing this forever. “Birthday rule. No cooking.”

You glanced at your friends, who all gave you this look—cute guy grilling for you, do not mess this up.

And yes, he was CUTE. Not in that kind of cute that said he should be modeling, but really cute: warm, open kind of cute, with easy smiles and a teasing energy. Every time he checked in, it felt like he genuinely wanted to know how you were doing.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked quietly, flipping the pork belly, just low enough to cut through the chaos at the table.

You nodded. “Better, honestly.”

He laughed. “Good answer.”

He kept coming back. Not in an annoying way—just enough to feel intentional.

More meat. More side dishes. One too many stares that lasted a beat too long. At some point, you stopped pretending you weren't looking at him.

After clearing the plates, he said, "Be right back with something sweet. You're not getting out of here without birthday dessert."

He appeared again with a little dish of vanilla ice cream addressed to you, a napkin tucked underneath. You raised a single brow in question, he shot you a grin, and was gone again.

You pulled the napkin out.

"Hope I didn't burn anything. Happy birthday. Wanna grab a drink sometime? -Mingyu"

You stared at it for a second before raising your head. He was standing by the bar pretending not to stare your way-well, really bad at it.

Your friends immediately caught on and began losing it.

You couldn't help but laugh.

When he returned with the check, you slid the napkin back to him, this time with your number written on the other side.

"Only if you're still down to grill next time."

His smile was brighter than anything in that restaurant.

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16wolke11 · 3 days ago

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Pierre doesn't know - Charles Leclerc

A/N This is just a shot filled with moments, all of them are smut related, but not as detailled as usually. Not sure if I like the outcome or not.

Requests are open!

WORDS: 1375

WARNINGS: NSFW (Quickies/blowjob/doggy/semi-public sex/unprotected sex)

Inspiration: Scotty doesn't know - Lustra

_____

Pierre doesn't know that Charles and I do it in his driver's room before every race. Hooking up to ease the tension before the race, knowing that Ferrari will give him a headache during it anyway. I don't even remember how it started, but it became a routine, and we got better at sneaking around. In the beginning, we almost got caught once, but since then, we stepped up our game. Beginning with Charles' subtle asking for soundproofing his room, so that he can, quote "Relax and be in his best state in that noisy environment". After that, we didn't care anymore and could be as loud as we wanted.

Another Sunday and again I managed to slip into Charles ' driver's room again. He is seated on his physio bench, eyes closed like he is taking a nap, but his eyes immediately open when he hears the door closing behind me.

"How long do we have?" I ask him, already shuffling out of my panties and bunching up my dress while Charles comes onto his feet. He is already dressed in his racing suit, it being tied around his hips, but he shoves it down enough to free his length.

"Something between five and ten minutes?" Charles tells me and pats his hand on the physio bench for me to hop on it. "Told them they should knock and give me a two-minute warning." He takes out the lube from his backpack to save time, squirts some of it on his fingers, before shoving them between my thighs. I don't hold back the moan, stopped doing it after we tested how loud we could be inside here without being heard by blasting loud music.

Not one minute later, Charles is pounding into me, my legs wrapped around his hips, drawing him deeper while we chase the lust. Not focused on building it as high as possible, but just releasing as much of it before the race as we can.

I always tell Pierre that I am in church, either visiting one at the local track or joining one that is broadcast on television. Being a religious girl always gets him to believe me. Having the image of me praying on my knees in his mind, but contrary to his beliefs, I am not in church. Still on my knees, but Pierre doesn't know that.

When we have more time before a race we take our time, tickle more than one orgasm out of each other, Charles usually making me suck him off. And depending on how much Ferrari fucked up during qualifying he just uses my mouth for his please.

"I want to see those pretty lips wrapped around me." Charles whispers, thumb dragging over my lower lip, letting me wrap my lips around it, just for a second, before pulling it back with a pop. Seated between Charles' knees, I lean down to take him into my mouth, ready to make him forget his struggles of the season.

By now, I no longer have to figure out what Charles likes, simply following what I learned over the months. Either swirling my tongue around the tip of his length or shoving his shaft down my throat. Charles' fingers always tangled in my hair, sometimes just guiding me along, but other times using it to move me to his liking until he comes into my mouth.

Pierre trusts Charles with me, even though his best friend is right behind me, thrusting into me. We even meet up when there isn't a race weekend, by now. Liking to fuck with each other, no hard feelings, just chasing orgasms and lust. Right now, I am being bent over the kitchen counter and Charles thrusts into me from behind. When my phone rings, I flinch, but Charles just keeps going. Pierre's name is written on the display and just when I want to grab it and mute my phone, Charles presses the green button and holds my phone to my ear.

I talk with Pierre, trying not to moan in that three-way call Pierre isn't aware of. Charles slowing down in the beginning of the call, making it easier for me to act like nothing is happening, but when my voice gets too relaxed Charles either picks up the rhythm, almost making me hiss with my hips being slammed against the counter or he shoves his fingers between my thighs to roll my clit between his fingertips. This almost made me scream out his name, but I managed to bite down hard on my lip to stop it, drawing a bit of blood, but luckily, Pierre ended the call soon after.

We grew bolder over time, no longer restriction us to his driver's room, the hotel or the apartment of one of his.

In the parking lot, why not?

"What if someone sees us?" I whisper to Charles while we make out in the backseat of his car. It might be dark outside, but the fogged-up windows would still give away what we are doing inside. And I am sure the journalist would love the spice of writing about Charles having sex in his car.

He whispers some soft reassuring while undressing me and I let him. Naked on the backseat, eyes looking at Charles, who is seated with his head between my thighs. Licking and nibbling the doubts out of my mind, making me gasp and moan with every moment of his tongue.

"Car sex looks so much easier in the movies." Charles groans, trying to find a position to properly bury himself between my thighs. Knocking his head on the ceiling in the process, making me laugh, before we find a position that works.

Even after a shitty race he just calls me over. Knowing he has places to be, but he can't face the media with the mixture of exhaustion and anger at the team. So, we sneak around, knowing we barely have the time for it, but still fucking. Usually, I ride him, knowing his body is too exhausted from the race, but I enjoy being on top of him.

"I could watch you ride me all day." Charles sighs, fingers digging into my hips, letting me roll them into his with slow movements. I hold onto his chest, his skin hot from the race and while I know this has to be quick, I just like to drag this moment as long as possible. Feel him twitch inside of me before I clench around him and get filled with his cum.

During one of the winter vacations, we even did it outside in the snow. Telling everybody we want to go for one last round down the hill, but instead, Charles buried himself deep inside of me.

"Charles, it is cold outside." I try to stop him, but his fingers already managed to sneak under the endless layers of clothes, sending a shiver down my spine where his cold skin touches mine.

"Adds to the thrill and we can't exactly do it inside." Charles mumbles, and he is right, in the house, it would grow suspicious, and it isn't exactly soundproof. Then he shoves his fingers between my thighs and all my protests crumble down. We used some of the snow as an extra thrill and it might have inspired us to use ice cubes in the bedroom one or two times afterwards.

At one point, we got so desperate for each other that we didn't care about our timing anymore. For Pierre's birthday, we were supposed to pick something up, but it got delayed and so we decided it wouldn't hurt anyone if we were even more late.

"We are already late...do you want to be later?" Charles suggests and without thinking much about it I pull him into a kiss. Teeth almost clashing, but Charles looks too good to resist. Shirt slightly unbuttoned for the party, even though this look isn't warm enough. Looks like I need to heat him up. We fuck in one of the bathrooms, knowing it is risky, but it is what we need.

What we are doing is so bad, but Pierre doesn't know and even though he might, no word will slip over my lips.

#f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut

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iovesentry · 2 days ago

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hit me with your best shot!

robert reynolds/bob x reader

summary: you were assigned by Walker to train Bob. you thought things were going smoothly until you accidentally hit him hard. woops….

warning(s): Bucky and reader have a special platonic bond, reader is reminiscing about the avengers, you accidentally punched Bob oopsies!

A/N: hi everyone! this is the second story i’ve written. i’m so so glad you guys are enjoying “something in my eye”. if you guys have any requests, feel free to lmk! <3

you were woken up by the sound of your alarm at 8AM, remembering that you were gonna train Bob at 9AM. you immediately washed your face and changed into your workout clothes, making your way to the kitchen to get something to eat. you were greeted by the presence of Walker, also eating breakfast.

“good morning, y/n. don’t forget you have to train Bobby at 9AM. after that, you’re free to go.” he reminded you and continued to eat his bowl of cereal. “gotcha. has he gotten up yet?” you asked Walker, just in case you needed to wake him up yourself. “uh yeah, he has eaten already, i think he’s ready to go. just look for him alright?” you nodded. since you still had time to do other things, you made yourself a cup of coffee and a sandwich. you recently discovered that sparring with an empty stomach is the worst idea imaginable.

“i’m gonna go look for him Walker, see ya later!” you waved him goodbye, taking your cup of coffee and your sandwich in each hand. you pressed the elevator button with your elbow and decided to go to the Gym floor, maybe Bob was already there.

walking down the hall made you emotional, remembering your time with the Avengers here. a tower filled with memories. it suddenly made you feel very nostalgic, remembering the last time you were here, it was when Ultron happened. that night went by like a blur, remembering the time you all tried to pick up Mjolnir from the table. night filled of drinks, laughter, and bonding.

you got to the sparring room and your assumption was correct. He was by the seat near the window, a book in his hand, and a cup of coffee on the table.

“hi bob, good morning. are you ready for today?” you greeted him, sitting down on the sofa opposite him. you placed down your cup and finished the rest of your sandwich.

“Yeah, how long are we training for?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee and closed his book.

“for as long as you want. as long as we reach an hour. just tell me if you’re tired or you need a break, okay?” you knew Bob wasn’t as capable in sparring unlike the rest of the team, since he can’t really use his powers as Bob yet. You’ve seen him as Sentry and The Void— fought him as Sentry and The Void—and safe to say that he has the build and strength, just not the control.

after about 45 minutes, you decided to teach Bob how to improve his punches.

“so, to improve your punches, you gotta put in some work into your hips. don’t always rely on your arm strength only, okay?” you instructed him, facing your padded palms towards him.

“go on, try it.” encouraging him helped a lot during this session. you knew he trusted you as his training buddy, since you didn’t make fun of him for not knowing how to fight.

his fist made contact with your palm, not the best punch but he was getting there.

“okay, not bad. still need a little more improvement but not bad. you want me to demonstrate?”

he nodded so you both switched. he was now the one wearing the pads on his hands, while you with your bare hands.

“like this,” you swung at his hands too harshly, resulting to you losing your balance, and your fist making contact with his jaw instead.

“oh my goodness! Bobby, i’m so so sorry!” you cupped his face to examine the result of your punch. he looked okay, his face as beautiful as ever.

“it’s okay, y/n. i’m okay, see?” he pointed at his face, so far no bruises yet. “ack, i’m so sorry Bob. i lost balance and punched you instead.”

“okay you know what, training sesh done. let’s go to the kitchen and get you an ice pack, okay?” you told him. you grabbed your used cup from earlier, you and Bob making your way to the kitchen.

“hey sweetheart.” you were immediately greeted by Bucky as you exited the elevator with Bob. you and Bucky grew closer after the battle with Thanos. losing the same people who were special to you, especially Steve. so it was nice to have someone you knew for a while on the same team.

“hi bucky. excuse me for a sec, alright?” you grabbed Bobs arm and hurried to the fridge, opening the freezer compartment and getting an ice pack.

“you alright, Bob?” you held the ice pack on his jaw, looking at his face that looked perfectly fine. “yeah, i feel fine.” he flashed you a small smile, letting you hold the ice pack even though he could hold it himself. he liked it though, when you took care of him. but that’s something he’ll never admit outloud, he can’t let you know about his feelings.

after 5 minutes, you removed the ice pack from his jaw and grabbed a kitchen towel to wipe his face. his breath hitched, suddenly growing nervous due to the closeness of you both. he admired your face, seeing the seriousness on you. he thought you looked cute.

you noticed him examining your face, suddenly growing shy under his gaze.

“you know staring is bad, right?” you told him, keeping your voice low. you had a small grin on your face, your palm still cupping the other side of his jaw. you finished wiping his face, meeting his gaze on you that made you feel small and shy.

“can’t help it when the woman who just punched me happens to be so beautiful.” he told you, noticing the red tint on your cheeks.

“if i punch you again, will you call me beautiful once more?”

he chuckled at that, “no punch needed. i can call you beautiful, pretty, and cute anytime.”

“well… i’d love that.” you suddenly grew so shy, always feeling so small underneath his gaze. Bob was a very charismatic and beautiful guy, and you were glad to be on the same team as him.

#robert reynolds x reader #sentry x reader #the void x reader #thunderbolts #the new avengers #avengers #marvel #marvel fanfic #bob thunderbolts #lewis pullman

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koyagifs · 1 day ago

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𝐣𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮

pairing: jongho x reader | ot8 x reader au: non idol | establish relationship genre: angst with comfort | fluff word count: 1.6k synopsis: explaining how long you and jongho have been together warning(s): cursing, jongho standing on business, wives getting their asses chewed as well the boys.

No one moved. The silence was deafening. You could hear the tick of the clock in the hallway, the soft hum of the AC, your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Hongjoong blinked, mouth opening and closing uselessly before the words finally found him. “Wait—how long? How long have you two been together?”

Jongho didn’t flinch. His fingers on your waist tightened, steady and certain. “Since college,” he said simply.

Gasps rippled through the room like someone had dropped a match into gasoline.

Wooyoung took a step forward, eyes wide. “You’ve been together this whole time? What—why didn’t you say anything?”

You inhaled, shaking your head softly. “Because no one ever really asked. And when you all got married... it didn’t feel like there was space for us. Every time I was around, I felt like a problem to be managed—not a person.”

Yunho looked like he’d been slapped.

Seonghwa’s jaw clenched, guilt flickering across his expression. “Yn… we—if we had known—”

“Would it have changed anything?” you cut in gently. “When your wives looked me up and down like I was a threat? When I cried in a bathroom at San’s wedding because the bride took everything I told him in confidence and made it hers? When I said no to being a bridesmaid and Mingi begged me like I owed it to him?”

No one spoke. Even the air in the room seemed to hesitate.

Jongho clasped his hands together, rubbing them slowly as everyone jumped at the sudden sound. His voice, calm but firm, broke through the thick silence.

“I was gone for just a few years, and I come back to a shit show. And the fact that my wife was at the center of it—not because she did something, but because you all let things happen to her—” he paused, glancing around at each of them, “—is something I’m not going to stay quiet about.”

Hongjoong shifted uncomfortably, guilt in every line of his face. “We didn’t know…”

Jongho raised a brow. “You didn’t ask. None of you did. You let your wives take over every moment and shut her out of the things she should have belonged in.”

“She was part of it,” Yunho argued, his voice weak. “She was there. At every wedding. Every—”

“As a bridesmaid, Yunho,” Jongho cut in sharply. “Never the friend. Never the family. Just the pretty accessory you dragged into your messes and forgot to defend.”

Yunho looked away, shame written across his face.

You gave her a tired look, one that spoke volumes—of restraint, of hurt, of every word you've bitten back over the years just to keep things from spiraling.

“Really?” you said quietly, stepping forward. “You think me saying ‘Hey, I’m married’ would’ve magically stopped the whispers? The side-eyes? The way some of you treated me like I was competition in a race I never even signed up for?”

Hongjoong’s wife faltered slightly, but you didn’t stop.

“I wasn’t hiding my marriage. I was protecting it. From this. From exactly this.” You motioned around the room. “You think it was easy? Watching you tear me apart under the guise of defending your relationships? I watched you try to box me in. Make me smaller. All while I was breaking behind closed doors.”

Wooyoung opened his mouth, then closed it again.

You turned to Jongho, your voice softening. “That’s why we eloped. Not to be dramatic, not to keep secrets. But because we wanted something that was ours. For once. Just ours.”

You let out a soft laugh through your nose, shaking your head. “Mingi, if we invited even one of you, it wouldn’t have stayed small. You guys don’t know how to not make things a production.”

Jongho smirked, squeezing your hand. “She’s not wrong. You would've shown up with a smoke machine and a dance crew.”

That earned a small ripple of laughter, the tension in the room easing—just a little.

Mingi huffed, slouching dramatically on the couch. “Still salty.”

Yeosang's wife let out a quiet laugh, clearly pleased by the shift in energy. "You know, sometimes silence is louder than words," she said, her tone light but pointed.

The wives seemed to shrink under the weight of their husbands' gazes, and you couldn't help the small, satisfied smile that tugged at your lips. It felt good to see them squirm a little, especially after everything you had silently endured.

"Go on, then," Yeosang's wife prompted, crossing her arms even tighter as she tilted her head slightly. "If you're going to apologize, do it with words, not just looks."

There was a long silence, the tension thick in the air. Finally, Hongjoong’s wife broke it, her voice hesitant and a little shakier than usual. " i'll admit, i hated you when Hongjoong first introduced you and i wanted nothing more then have you away from him. I mean, it's not normal for how close you are with them."

The words hung in the air, and the room felt like it held its breath. Hongjoong’s wife swallowed, her eyes shifting as if she were searching for the right way to continue.

"I was jealous, honestly," she admitted, voice shaky but sincere. "I thought you were a threat. I thought there was no way a woman could be that close to them without wanting something more." She paused, her gaze flicking to you, guilt now written clearly across her face. "But I see now that was just... my insecurity talking. I didn’t understand the bond you had with them. I didn’t see how you cared about them—as friends. I was too focused on what I thought was the problem, and not on the truth of the situation."

You stayed silent, taking in her words, feeling a knot loosen in your chest. It wasn’t everything, but it was a start.

"I was wrong, Yn," Hongjoong’s wife continued, her eyes welling with emotion. "I’ve hurt you, I’ve isolated you, and I’ve added to the chaos. And for that, I am truly sorry."

The room shifted then, as if her admission opened a door that the others hadn’t even known existed. It made it a little easier for the others to speak up.

Seonghwa’s wife, her voice quieter now, added, “I see it now. I see how hard you’ve worked to keep everything together, how much you’ve sacrificed. I was selfish. I saw you as a threat to my comfort, and that’s just... not fair. I’m sorry."

Wooyoung’s wife lowered her head, avoiding eye contact, but still speaking. “I was the same way, Yn. I thought you were just another complication. But... I realize now that I let my jealousy blind me. I’m sorry."

You didn’t know what to say. The apologies felt both too little and, somehow, too much. It wasn’t as simple as "I forgive you," but it wasn’t as easy as holding onto the bitterness either. All you could do was nod, your throat tight with emotions you weren’t ready to express just yet.

Jongho squeezed your hand, looking at the others with a steely gaze. " don't think it'll be as easy for my forgiveness hyungs, i trusted you with her and you all failed me."

The words hung heavily in the room, a weight that seemed to drag the air down. Jongho’s gaze was unwavering, his grip on your hand firm as he stood tall beside you. His voice, though calm, carried the full force of his disappointment.

"You guys were supposed to be the ones who protected her, who had her back, who understood how much she meant to me," he continued, his voice hardening slightly with every word. "But instead, you let her face this all alone, and that? That’s unforgivable."

There was a palpable shift as the realization of his words set in. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if everyone was waiting for the others to respond.

Seonghwa’s eyes dropped to the floor, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He looked like a man who had just been confronted with a painful truth, something he couldn’t deny any longer. "We failed you, Jongho," he said quietly. "We failed her."

Hongjoong, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, his voice low and regretful. "We didn’t see it. We didn’t understand what was really going on, how much we hurt her by being too focused on our own insecurities. We’re sorry."

Mingi, usually the one to joke or keep things light, now looked somber, his usual playful demeanor gone. "I don’t know what to say, man. I... I just thought she could handle it. I was wrong."

Wooyoung’s eyes met yours, guilt written all over his face. "I should’ve seen it. I should’ve known better. I’m sorry, Yn."

The apologies were sincere, but the words felt hollow, like a simple bandage over wounds that went deeper than they understood. They couldn’t take back the pain they caused. They couldn’t undo the damage, no matter how much they apologized.

Jongho’s jaw tightened, his grip on your hand tightening as well, almost protectively. "I don’t know if I can forgive you just yet. But you’re going to have to prove yourselves, not just to me, but to Yn. You can’t expect everything to be okay just because you’re sorry."

His words struck a chord. There would be no quick fix, no easy resolution. The road to rebuilding trust, to repairing the fractures in relationships, was long and uncertain. But maybe, just maybe, they could begin the journey now.

It was a quiet, tense moment that followed, as everyone absorbed the gravity of what Jongho had said. The apology had been made, but the healing was just beginning.

You turned to Jongho, leaning into him slightly, the weight of everything still pressing on your shoulders, but his presence—his unwavering support—was a reminder that, for the first time in a long while, you weren’t facing it alone.

#ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #angst #ateez angst #jongho x reader

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miqojak · 13 hours ago

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Here I've been calling Jak + Ketsuchi 'rivals to lovers' but uh. Physical violence HAS happened that once. And she is VERY proud of her scars from that encounter, these days, even if at the time she was LIVID and SCARED. But she figured out he was testing her, and pushed herself through the 'test'... and these days wears her scars as a badge that she proved herself to him. (So I guess... they're technically enemies to lovers, according to OP's bit about violence! XD) There was lots of name calling. Yelling. Breaking things. Sexual tension CONSTANTLY boiling over into 'god I think I hate you' intimacy that returns right to 'fuck you' except he still shows up at your door humming that same damn song, and you still let him the fuck in. And yet, even in the midst of their roiling rivalry... he was the first one she trusted to be physically intimate with. Even while they fought... she knew, intrinsically deep down... he was like her. She trusted something in him because it was so familiar. So yeah. With two years of writing between us before they admitted to what had been long simmering? That is the best slowburn I've ever written, and one of the deepest, most complex relationship dynamics I've ever written. These two fucked up people helped knit up each other's inner wounds (and sometimes literal ones) with lots of time and patience - because who understands your fucked up emotional walls like someone else who builds the same fucked up walls and lashes out in the same fucked up way? In real life, hurt people hurt people. In fiction? Sometimes the hurt people get to heal the other hurt people. They were both chasing a death-wish after losing people they loved... and both gave up chasing death for the other - all without ever once saying "I love you." Because actions speak louder than words, in their mad world. And yeah, to that bit about mocking names becoming pet names... he once mockingly called her Little Robin, so she added it to her tattoos, all those years later - and just like he brought color to her dull world, her robin tattoo is the only one on her body with color. And a gesture from her that was once defiant - pressing her hand to his chest, to show she wasn't afraid of him? Now, is a tender, loving way for her to connect with him. To feel his heartbeat, and be soothed that it DOES still beat. And she'll keep fighting to make sure it keeps beating. And OP is right - "It's about truly knowing every single piece of your partner's heart and soul, from their anger to their joy and loving them not just despite it, but especially for it."

Because there were times Ketsuchi would be just... caught up in his anger, and would call her names and rage at her... and she refused to even be upset by it. (Now and then a zinger really dug in, though.) But she knew what he was doing... because she did the same thing with others. Lash out. Bite, scratch, gnaw, be as nasty as you can... and they'll leave. They'll give up. But she doesn't give up. And she saw something too akin to her own hurt in him... and in refusing to abandon one another, and insisting they keep butting heads and 'competing' to one-up each other... they kinda just ended up falling for that ferocity in each other, and wanting something better for the other person. And now? They *have* seen the worst of one another - and I think they've actually progressed to trying to bring out the best.

One thing that has always pissed me off is when people call the Enemies to Lovers troupe toxic romance and say it's abusive. Like I don't know what was advertised to you as enemies to lovers but babe that is so not what this trope it's about.

Now listen I'm a fantasy reader, so my normal level of enemies to lovers is "they have tried to kill each other at least once" or "they have definitely physically fist fought" at like the minimum. Anything below that is rivals to lovers to me. Just wanted to make it clear I'm not sugar coating anything here when it comes to my ships.

Enemies to lovers was never about the abuse or the fighting and the attempted murder, that's not what makes the trope.

Enemies to lovers was always about seeing the worst in each other first, being unafraid to show someone the ugliest part of yourselves and them still managing to fall in love with you. It's about realizing that the only person who has ever truly known you is the one person you cannot stand, it's about them being an outlet to each other the one person they are not afraid to be negative towards because that's your dynamic all the time.

This is also why people enjoy the fighting and the bickering between the enemies, because it's the one time when these characters are not holding anything back, they are unafraid of showing each other cruelty because why fear being disliked by someone who you already hate, that also hates you back?

It's about this chemistry these characters have, how they are somehow always pulled towards each other, how they can recognize each other in a crowded room immediately because they are annoyed by each other's presence obviously. It's about them always somehow ending up in a situation together even though the last thing they want is to be near each other.

They start noticing more about each other, they realize their habits, they know little stuff about them that almost no one else has ever noticed and maybe along the way they realize that maybe they're kind of different from what they thought at first and maybe they're not so different from each other.

It's about name calling turning into pet names, verbal sparing turning into old married couple type of bickering, going from dreading each others presence to searching for each other in a room, sneers turning into smirks, it's about keeping the same dynamic you had but making it more lighthearted, warmer.

And this is my personal opinion, but I truly believe there is no way to make a good enemies to lovers story without it also being a slowburn. It makes absolutely no sense why these characters that hated each other until now are suddenly falling in love so quickly. Enemies to lovers was never just Enemies -> Lovers, There needs to be some forced proximity thrown in there, a begrudgingly friendship, actual friendship, unexplained feelings, realization of feelings, secret pining because we barely became friends there is no way they would ever feel the same way, confession and by the end lovers. It just makes sense since they have a very complicated relationship and they need to grow as people and need to get used to familiar feelings first before actually getting together.

And this is what enemies to lovers is all about, these characters knowing every part of themselves, from the worst to the best, hiding nothing and being free around each other. It's about truly knowing every single piece of your partner's heart and soul, from their anger to their joy and loving them not just despite it, but especially for it.

#enemies to lovers #rivals to lovers #writing #writing advice #writing tropes #fuck I love this trope #they would FIGHT...then have ANGRY SEX #then go right back to WE JUST CAN'T GET ALONG #COME BY SOON FOR A NOT!DATE #SO WE CAN ARGUE #now that there's less anger and butting heads she is sometimes confused on what exactly to do I think xD

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xervoxs · 2 days ago

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safe and secure

wc: 0,5k

cw: established relationship, angst (sort of?), happy ending

P. S. Want to apologise in advance for any grammar errors, ect. English is not my first language, and it's my first time writing something on it (I definitely had to use dictionary, more than once, lol.)

Everything felt like a dream.

The distant wailing of police sirens barely reached your ears, the whole world seemed to fade away.

"No...please..."

Choking on tears, you begged the man lying on the wooden floor to open his eyes. His hold on your hand began to loosen slowly, yet your worn-out mind refused to accept the reality of it all.

—

The recent case has been taking longer than usual. The unsub - white male, in his middle thirties - was pulling strings, like a puppeteer, subduing the victims to his will. He even went as far as to leave little cards - with mocking comments written on them - on the latest crime scenes.

To put it shortly, the days were long and the team was exhausted.

On one of these days, when their faith in resolving the case was especially low, new evidence emerged. A little clue suddenly shed light on the entire picture. Just like that, the puzzle was solved.

Within an hour, the team was in the countryside, not far away from the city.

From a distance, a two-story building appeared abandoned, yet the team approached it cautiously, trying not to draw the attention of whoever might be inside.

"FBI, open up!"

Aaron's voice echoed in your ears, intense and demanding. No answer followed. Within a moment, the door was down, Hotch was the first one to enter.

Gunshot.

The next few minutes seemed to have gone in a blur. Screams. More gunshots. The wild ramming of your heart against your ribcage.

You found yourself down on your knees, by the body of the man you loved so dearly. Blood rapidly spread across the white material of his shirt.

"Aaron...please...no..."

Your hand found his and clasped it tightly, desperately clinging to the last thread of hope.

Muttering something incoherent under his breath, the man gave your hand a weak squeeze. The blurry gaze of his honey-coloured eyes found yours, making your throat tighten. Leaving a hot trail behind, tears streamed down your cheeks.

Unable to form a proper sentence, all you could do was beg. Beg the higher powers of our world to save the life of the man, who's smile was enough to brighten the darkest of the days.

His hold on your hand loosened slowly.

The whole world seemed to fade away.

Everything felt like a dream. Because it was one.

"Honey,"

Aaron's voice, soft and gentle - yet with an underlying concern to it - pulled you out of the nightmare. His warm gaze - full of love and life - met yours.

The sight of confusion and pain written all over your tear-stained stained face ached the man's heart.

"it's alright."

He said, cupping the side of your face and brushing a tear away with a pad of his thumb.

The warmth of his touch was soothing and grounding, slowly, but surely bringing you back to reality.

"It was just a dream, a bad dream..."

He wondered what could possibly get you so upset, but kept all the questions to himself. At the moment , his top priority was to make sure you were alright and to let you know that you were safe and secure in his arms.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds drabble #criminal minds fanfiction

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huntingcupid · 10 hours ago

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FROM THE START — M.S

that when I talk to you, oh, cupid walks right through and shoots an arrow through my heart and I sound like a loon, but don't you feel it too? confess I loved you from the start

⌗ MEGAN — fem!reader, fluff, girl next door, swearing, flirting, reader gets injured, pining, somehow slowburn, megan is a down BAD, reader is very close to her parents, etc...

⌗ SYPNOSIS — when you move into an entirely new city by yourself — you wondered what it may bring you, what you didn't expect was to fall in love with your neighbor

⌗ CUPID — hi! first try at slowburn so please don't mind if its sorta badly written, anyways requested by my lovely moot @kkoga love u babes

saying goodbye to your old city, the very same city you've lived in for almost your whole childhood — the city that contained everything you knew, was scary it scared you that you might never find another place like it

yet when an bigger opportunity calls in a whole new place you knew you had to take it, it's not like you can get a scholarship and a free place to stay at anywhere now

your hands got clammy and shaky as you start packing your clothes and stuff, you knew that somehow you're overpacking, yet all these things held a sentimental value to you, a little piece of what you consider home

“darling isn't that too much” your mother chuckles seeing 4 boxes of things you will be bringing, you huff clearly puzzled, “i don't want to feel alone there mom” you replied which your mother sighs to

she sat next to you as you continue shoving all your things into boxes, “you're not gonna be alone, y/n you're a wonderful person, it's not gonna take long for you to find your own people there” your mom says brushing your hair which managed to calm you down

you didn't wanna think at that moment and just shrink and hug your mom, just like always — “you are such a smart girl y/n, and maybe moving to that city will help expand your knowledge” your mom whispers kissing the top of your head, you close your eyes basking in the moment, “i know mom, but I'm still scared” you replied — “there's nothing too big to conquer y/n, trust yourself” your mother replies, making you smile

you always adored how strong and inspiring your mom is, she is the main reason you even considered accepting the offer, you thought about the future you can give her, and it felt so wonderful that you can do it, “i will mom” you replied

you two sat there in silence just letting the moment stretch for as long you needed to, you stare blankly at the boxes labeled in your name some still unsealed — if this was your fate you knew it was for good, that with this move you will progress in life immediately, “i can do this” you mutter determined to make it work, not only for yourself but for your mother, “that's my baby” your mother cheers silently which you giggle to

later that night your mother made your favorite, sinigang — the sour and warm broth easing the tension inside you, “how will I cook mom?” you ask suddenly, remembering your inability to cook and how inexperienced you are, “i'll send you recipes you can follow” your mother replies laughing at your distress, “what if i burn the place down, mom!?” you stutter already dreading cooking, “trust me, you can't do that, your cooking is amazing sweetie” your mom replies reassuring you, “i hope so” you mutter your mind reeling with scenarios of you cooking and potentially burning the place

after dinner, you lie in bed, feeling rather empty — you stare at the wall thinking of the changes the new life will give you, as you drift to sleep, dreams of a bright future keep you warm and somehow excited

you wake up to the smell of freshly made waffles — the aroma of the brewed coffee wafting throughout the home, you sit up and stretch as the rays of sunlight filter through your window casting an ethereal glow on your skin — “good morning mom!” you greet walking down to the kitchen greeted with your moms cooking and her proudly smiling, “come on eat!” your mom urges you to sit and eat

after eating you showered and picked out a comfortable outfit to wear for the long drive you will take, your dad helped bring the boxes into the trunk of your car, “so.., see you guys soon?” you say to your parents as they both stood there watching you, “bye baby, please take care of yourself” your mother rambled on and on about how you can always come back here, your dad only said goodbye and hugged you tightly

you sat in your car starting the engine after waving goodbye to your parents, you played some soft music in your car as you drove, beabadoobee and laufey tunes filling the vehicle — after a few hours of driving you stop in front of a cozy looking apartment, you took a mental note of how close it is to a café you wanted to visit after unpacking

you unloaded your car sighing and rethinking why you had to pack this many things — now your having difficulties bringing it inside, barely able to lift it off the ground, you grunt frustrated “oh come on”

you look up when you hear soft rustling, that's when you saw her, she looked beautiful her raven hair framing her face and her eyes they seemed so innocent and pure, “can i help you?” she says offering a hand, “megan by the way” she introduces, it fit her so perfectly you stare for a bit making her giggle, “so?” she trails, “oh! uh yeah sure, that would be lovely, I'm y/n” you replied shaking her hands, she nods and carries one of the boxes into your apartment, “why did you move?” she asks as she finally brings in the last box — “oh it's for college, i got a pretty good offer and i took it” you replied, she hums nodding her head,

“you must be smart then” she jokes which you laugh to shaking your head, “not really, just focused in class” you reply, “how about you, you're very strong do you do any activities that you got because of that strength?” you ask now very curious about the girl, “i teach dance lessons, and go to college too” she says, “you'll have to teach me, i swear i am stiff” you joke she laughs which you smile to, her voice seemed so comforting and soft which made you feel things, “i doubt that, anyways i'll see you soon?” she replies, already walking to the door, you felt a tinge of disappointment wanting her to stay longer but you kept silent about it, “yeah, you live next door right?” you ask and she nods waving before shutting the door leaving you with your thoughts

you unpack and organize your things for an hour straight making your limbs so tired you felt like it would fall off any minute — you took a quick cold shower washing away your sweat and worries, you get dressed in some sweatpants and a random hoodie you got

you wanted to check out said café earlier, yes it was late but who doesn't like iced coffee after working so hard, you walk along the city lights illuminating the road ahead — it was fairly cold but the soft breeze felt amazing, you see the café just a few more meters away, after a few more minutes you made it

the café wasn't filled but it was fairly seated, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted you making you smile, you line up and looked at the menu seeing a few matcha selections, finally your time to order you look up and low and behold, megan her hair tied up in a loose ponytail “y/n! hi, didn't take you as a matcha person” she says happily putting in your order, “i also didn't take you as someone who would work in a café” you replied smiling softly paying for your order before finding a comfy seat, just near the windows

you mindlessly scroll on your phone, feeling butterflies in your stomach, seeing her again. she looked so beautiful like a painting — “order for y/n?” you walk up to the counter, getting your matcha before sitting back down, sipping on the beverage and sending updates to your parents

after a while you finished your drink, and got up to walk back home — megan eyes follow your form as you leave, unknowingly starting to develop something, something she hadn't felt in a while

the first few days of you living in this new city felt like a fever dream, some days you would feel weird and somehow foreign to some things they did here, but most you would feel just at home — especially with the help of megan, she would often visit you keeping you company and filling the apartment with her infectious laugh

“let's go to the park?” megan asks rather out of the blue as you two sat in your living room, you nod happy wherever she might take you, “i'll bring snacks” you replied standing up and getting your tote bag, picking some fruits and a large enough water bottle for you two, megan waited a bit before she stood up and intertwined her hands with yours, “let's go?” she asks which you nod to unable to form words, her hands were so soft and warm and it fit your hand into hers snugly — you two walked for 10 minutes while megan occasionally joked about something stupid but funny enough for you two to look a little crazy laughing, “here” she points to a empty spot in the park, you sat on the grass looking at the sun just at the horizon, she unpacks the food and took a quick picture, as megan was busy eating and staring at the numerous squirrels that ran around the park

you took your time sketching her, smiling as you add silly doodles on the side of her portrait, she giggles looking at you confused, “what you drawing?” she asks, you hid the drawing at first but with enough persuasion the girl got you to show it to her, her eyes lit up and a smile met her lips making you smile and blush, “y/n this is gorgeous! you captured me so well” she muses tracing her fingers over the pencil lines, “just messing around” you mutter back, something about seeing megan so joyful made you feel satisfied and complete somehow, “can i keep it?” she asks which you obviously nod to she takes the drawing and folds it in half putting it in her pocket

you two sat there in comfortable silence something you two did a lot, megan was first to break it though, “it's getting late, we should walk back” she says watching as the sun started to set — you noticed how the clouds started getting darker indicating a rain approaching, “it looks like it'll rain too” you said, megan frowns and starts packing up, you two hurriedly walkback

4 minutes later it started pouring, drenching you both, “shit!” megan exclaims her hair sticking to her forehead due to the rain, you laugh at the girl which she took as a challenge she kicked some water your way which made you gasp, you two fought with water all the way back to your apartment, “count your days seriously” you said the the girl which she only smugly grinned to, “i should get home, I'm soaked” megan says, you shake your head, “i have extra clothes just shower here, I'm cooking some soup i want you to have some” the girls eyes filled with hearts she nods, you hand her a large tshirt you had and some shorts, as the girl showered you changed into some warmer clothes drying your hair after

you open your fridge shortly after preparing the ingredients — slicing up some veggies and beef, boiling it all together making a warm and delicious broth — “smells amazing y/n, what other talents do you have?” she teases, “a lot i guess” you replied getting some bowls, and filling it with soup, “here” you said handing megan the bowl across the table, she smiles taking a deep inhale, she looked adorable in your clothes, it didn't help that you two stole glances at each other at every moment, “this is so good, you'll have to give me more” the girl says finishing her bowl, you giggle clearly flattered that she liked your cooking, “thank you, maybe in return you can teach me some dance moves?” you trail shrugging, “obviously” she nods

later that night you two were in your living room, megan teaching you the basics, her hands on your waist and her face dangerously close to yours, “like this” she says adjusting your hip, you two lock eyes and for a moment megan's eyes flicker to your lips, you nod following her direction, “your a fast learner” she compliments

you check the clock, it was already 10 pm, “hey it's late megan, you should get home” you say afraid of wasting the girls time, “yeah, see you tomorrow?” she asks and you respond “like usual” she giggles before walking to her apartment

that night you laid in bed reflecting on your feelings for the girl, you knew she knew what you felt, the way you two seemed in sync all the time, and the stolen glances, hugs, and hours upon hours of talking meant something. you groan out of frustration

frustration that you can't seem to get her out of your mind, she plagued your thoughts, her laughter seems to fill your ears at every moment, you smile at how stupid this was, how stupid you were for her

megan journaled about her feelings pouring out compliment after praise about you, her growing feelings being too big to ignore

a few days later you went to the college to formally pass your paperwork, since it was starting in a few weeks

after passing it you were crossing the road to walk back home when a car hit you, you fell on the road the pain hitting you like tons of bricks — “fuck” you mutter gripping your leg, it felt so numb but you saw how much you bled which made you panic, shortly after paramedics came to pick you up,

megan rushed through the place running to you worry evident on her features, “y/n?!, are you okay?” she asks her hands on your arms you could only laugh earning you a hit on the arm from the girl, “yes, I'm okay, i just have to get a cast for my left leg now” megan looks and bit her lip seeing the damage, “i'll stay here till you get the cast on” she says, and she stayed, hours upon hours it was almost midnight when you and her left the hospital, she almost carried you but you insisted you can walk

megan helped you change into some pajamas, and laid you on your bed, her worried expression soon fading seeing you lay in bed finally getting your much needed rest, just as she was leaving you frowned

“stay, please?” you plead in a tired and small voice which instantly melted the girl, she lays beside you hugging you, giving a warm feeling inside you — you put your head beneath hers humming softly as you finally fell asleep, comfortable in her hands

you woke up to some breakfast in bed, megan's hair tied messily as she brings in the waffles and a matcha latte, “here” she says giving it to you, you smiled, truly happy that she even thought about this, you took a bite and savored the flavor melting in your mouth, “thank you megan, this is so amazing” you mutter which she replies to “anything for you”, your heart beated a bit faster at her words, suddenly the wall was so interesting as you tried to hide your blushing face

days passed and megan refused to leave your side, always assisting you even in stupid situations when you didn't exactly need it, you can see how dedicated she was to making you feel comfortable, megan never complained nor talk about being tired, she just wanted to take care of you — every passing moment you kept falling deeper for her, for her smile, for her genuine care, and just for her as a person

tonight was different, megan seemed to have something in mind, her eyes darted around the room avoiding your gaze, and she was silent, strangely so, you got worried maybe she's burnt out from taking care of you?, maybe she was tired — you thought to yourself — you were puzzled why she suddenly was silent, you thought about the last few days, thinking maybe you did something stupid, or maybe megan just doesn't like you like that,

“y/n? can I tell you something?” megan breaks the silence finally looking into your eyes, “anything meg” you replied softly, you furrow your brows a bit scared of what she'll say, “i don't know how to explain this, y/n i like you — no i love you” she mutters so quickly you barely even understood it

the moment stopped and it felt so surreal, megan was nervous, clearly you were too — silence stretched for way too long before you spoke, “i love you too” you whisper almost like a forbidden spell, her eyes lit up before rushing to your side hugging you so tightly it felt like you were gonna pop, “wait really?!” megan excitedly exclaimed which you nod to, “i loved you the moment i met you megan, from the start, i don't know how you didn't notice” you explain only making the girl smile wider

megan held your face in between her hands cupping your cheeks, her eyes and your both trail to each others lips like a silent agreement megan closed the distance, she felt like heaven, you smile into the kiss pulling away a minute or two later

you two were both too embarrassed to say anything so instead you two sat there staring at each other, blushing like highschool lovers — “you're not lying right?” she asks, “god you're such a loser” you giggle hugging megan yet again you wince a bit when you hit your leg

megan quickly checked and asked if you were okay, and you kept nodding, “are you sure?” she asks yet again, “yes ms.skiendiel” you laugh

that evening you two lay in your bed watching some netflix while wearing “matching pjs”, well it's just two stupid minecraft t shirts you both bought off at the children's section — megan's arms wrapped around your waist as she watches the show intently

for a moment you two were just there, existing in each others presence enjoying the love that was now no longer hidden, well that's until megan asked something a bit foolish “y/n would you still love me if I was a worm” you chuckle clearly caught off guard, “no seriously!” she reasons which you smile at, “I'll love you any way you are” megan smiles and giggles a bit

it felt like yesterday that you had just met her, met megan — it was crazy to you that now your laying in bed, hugging her and being comfortable to say the most outrageous things — you can say one thing though, you've definitely love her from the start

wc: 3.2k words

#katseye #wlw #fem!reader #katseye x reader #megan skiendiel #megan katseye #katseye megan #kpop #gg fics

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maraudersilver · 3 days ago

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DOE EYES (Haymitch Abernathy x Fem!Reader) Chapter 6

MASTERLIST Warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of death, mentions of sa.

A/N: Sorry for the delay, I'm now both working and studying a new master's degree and I'm trying to have enough time for everything, so I'm sorry if this chapter is written worse than the others. Let me know what you think!

Wc: +3,5K

You gawked at your friend, her hands on her hips. She looked skinnier, beaten and dreary. Dark bags lurked under her eyes that makeup could not cover. And if she looked like that after all the trimming from the prep-team, what was she hiding underneath it? The mere thought made a shiver run down your spine in cold sweat.

“Johanna—”

“Not gonna invite me to a drink? What a way of treating your friends, Y/N,” she interrupted you nonchalantly, sitting by you on the bar.

In your stupor, you stood with your mouth agape and an expression that could only be defined as sorrow on your eyes. It was Haymitch who broke the silence like thunder crashes after a sunny day.

“What do I owe the pleasure?”

He continued speaking with that preen, condescendent tone that was getting on your nerves. Against your better judgement, you huffed, turning your back to him just to look directly at Johanna.

“Wha—?”

“I mentor! Just as you two. Don’t get your hopes up, Haymitch, didn’t come here for you.” She winked at him, a smirk perched on her face constantly as if she hadn’t been missing for months.

Haymitch scoffed, quaffing his glass in one sip. “Do me a favor and leave me alone.”

“Someone’s grumpy,” she murmured in amusement, lifting her eyebrows playfully at you.

“He was already like that when I found him.” You raised your hands, to which Haymitch groaned louder.

Johanna’s hair was shorter. Where once had reached her lower back, now was barely below the shoulders. The way her clothes hung looser than what they usually did was indication of malnourishment. But what victor was malnourished? A one month supply would feed a whole town for a couple days.

Sipping her drink, Johanna smirked before taunting Haymitch again. “Here you are, old as a sequoia and flirting with young little things. Aren’t you shameless?”

“Johanna—,” you warned her.

“And here you are, looking uglier than ever and still thinking high of yourself,” slurred Haymitch with the same bite.

“Oi! Haymitch!”

But to your surprise, Johanna was laughing her head off. You looked at her dumbly, blinking twice in confusion. What the hell was going on?

“It was nice catching up. Maybe I can get you alone later in a certain room, Y/N,” she flirted, and it took you aback for a second before you made the connection. She couldn’t say whatever she wanted in a bugged room. So you just nodded, watching her leave the bar in a confident strut.

“Had the suspicion you were bangging Odair, but never thought of you and Mason,” said Haymitch with a lifted brow.

You scoffed. “Oh, yes, I’m shagging with half the Capitol.”

“Must be itchy down there.”

“Wanna scratch for empiric proof?”

“Nah, I’m fine. Don’t wanna be infected by whatever you have going on in there.”

It was ridiculous. Really. But your eyes damped and your nose started burning. What was wrong with him that day? He wasn’t prince charming by norm, but he was never this mean. With an angry slam to the table, you stood up and threatened Haymitch with a piercing look that did nothing to him, as he was as immovable as ever.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you today, but don’t talk to me unless you apologize,” you spat, and Haymitch just lifted his glass in a toast much to your frustration.

That was the last time you saw him in days. You spent the time mentoring your district kids and sweet-talking possible sponsors. You barely caught a glimpse of Finnick and Johanna, too centered in doing your job the best as you could.

It didn’t take long for the games to start, Keit dying in the bloodbath. At least it was fast, you thought. Luckily, Burry made it out of there and secluded himself in the frozen tundra. It was your time to shine.

Miss Rainwall was your first victim, sponsoring coal for Burry to make some fire. And then you charmed your way over the rooms, working your way in beds as you had been forced to not that long ago. Anything to help that boy survive.

You found Finnick on the third day of the games. You were coming back from an encounter with a Capitol higher up, a business owner who took a long time to convince to sponsor Burry. At least he didn’t have any kinks that showed up on your skin afterwards.

“If it isn’t my girl!” Finnick exclaimed, opening his arms for you to run eagerly. Only, your core felt too sore to be able to move comfortably, to which Finnick caught wind of. He rushed to your side, enveloping you in a warm hug. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” he whispered.

“Yep,” you chirped, hugging him as tightly. “Just tired. How have you been?”

“As busy as you, it seems.”

Dread shrinked in your stomach, he had been forced to perform his usual matiné, but ‘out of will’ this time, just like you. Both his tributes were still alive, so that made him need double the money.

You placed your chin in his chest, looking up at him with a pout. “Wish I could make it easier for you.” It was true. For the last few years you hadn’t been as molested as when you were a teen, but Finnick never stopped being harassed.

He lifted a brow, scanning your surroundings and giving a wicked smile, purring loud enough for the people around to hear. “Maybe you could join me in my next affair.”

Something between a scoff and a laugh left your mouth, but when you heard the coos and admiration from the Capitol guests, you just smirked back. “Is that so? Haven’t played with you in a long time.”

Finnick just nodded, eyes amused when you touched his chest over the shirt. “Can’t wait to feel you again, hotstuff.”

You hated to acknowledge the wet spot in your panties. At the end of the day, you did share a past you were not ready to talk about. The Capitol twats gushed all over you as Finnick took off, not before kissing your hand.

Rolling your eyes while a smile pulled at your lips, you made your way to a table filled with walking wallets. Burry needed some ointment for a cut in his arm, and those were expensive. Didn’t take long for one of them to agree. Apparently, Finnick had promised her a night of fun, and her only condition was for you to join after that ‘erotic’ and ‘sensual’ encounter you had with him at the hall. Fighting back the chills down your spine and the cold sweat collecting by your nape, you agreed.

Little did you know a certain drunken man had been listening to the conversation, and you startled at his approach when he leaned in to pull a dove feather stuck in your hair, to which he stared as if he had seen a ghost for a moment too long. Then, he recomposed quickly. “So I was right about you and Odair.”

You groaned in annoyance, already done with Haymitch. “If you’re here to be a dick then you can leave me alone.”

“I have nothing else to do.” He shrugged. Both his tributes were already dead, so he had all the free time he wanted to get wasted.

“Why don’t you bother the bartender? Maybe he can refill your hip flask.”

“Uhh, so ruthless. No wonder you won your Games with that attitude.”

His breath reeked of liquor, and by the way he was stumbling he had probably had his fair share already. You sighed.“What do you want, Haymitch?”

“Can’t I spend time with the one woman that insists on writing to me? Thought we had something special going on,” he taunted, grabbing his flask and sipping from it like he hadn’t drank anything in years.

“Sorry if I gave you that impression, but I don’t do assholes.”

“You’re bangging Odair.”

“Are you still with that? For fuck’s sake, can’t women and men be friends?” Then you turned to him and saw his insufferable smirk, and you knew he had been teasing you since the moment he approached you. You huffed. “Are you even drunk, Haymitch?”

“Tipsy, at most. But don’t let them know,” he placed a finger on his lips with a knowing look.

You caught yourself before smiling. He had been horrible on the first day of the Games, and he had yet to apologize.

Haymitch huffed at your snarl. “I’m sorry about the other day. I was having a terrible, terrible day. Can you find a place in your heart to forgive me?” He was always so sarcastic that you wondered to what point he was being truthful, but at least he was recognizing his mistake, wasn’t he? You expected it, at least.

You sighed dramatically, looking up as if thinking it thoroughly, and finally glared back at him. “Only if you promise to not be mean anymore to me.”

“I can’t promise that, Doe Eyes.”

“See you—.” You were about to leave, a playful grin on your face, when he pulled you back from your wrist.

“Alright, alright. I promise to try and not be mean to you even when you are a pain in my ass, Doe Eyes.”

“I’m not the one begging for forgiveness here, Haymitch. I would say you’re the pain in my ass.”

He groaned and you snickered, pleased at what your teasing was doing to him. “Grab it or leave it.”

“You didn’t deny it!” I gasped enthusiastically, and he made the motion of walking away. “Okay, I’m grabbing it. But next time, I’m spilling your drink over you.”

“What a threat, to be bathed in alcohol,” he shook his hands in feign terror.

“You almost bit Finnick’s head off when he spilled your drink a few months ago,” you deadpanned.

“That’s different.”

“Is it? How?”

“Stop being annoying, I’m trying to ask you to the bar so I can buy you a drink to make peace with you, dumbass.” Haymitch flicked your forehead, tutting at your laugh. “I always end up stuck with the maddest people in the Capitol,” he complained.

You granted him a pass and let him get away with that comment. It’s not as if he was lying. You had seen him around Chaff and Beetee, and now you, the three of you not the most sane people among victors.

He invited you to a coffee, something you appreciated amply. You hadn’t slept much, worried about Burry and waking up to him dead. He took some nepenthe for himself, and both of you sipped quietly surrounded by yellow lilies.

“So, you speak another language?”

You lifted your head rapidly to him, just to find him with his eyes fixed on his glass. Confused by his question, you nodded dumbly. “Uh, yes. I speak Basque.”

“Interesting,” he mused, circling his glass. “So you’re Basque?”

“Yes,” you furrowed your brows. “Well, I’m from Panem, but I'm a descendant of Basques and I— What’s with all the questioning?”

“I’m just curious,” he slurred. “And anything else? Just the language?”

You were trying to read his expression, but after years of parading around the Capitol, he had become a master of neutral facades mixed with shamelessness. “We have our own mythology, customs, language, gastronomy… Although many things have been lost and others are impossible to perform. Like cooking. We don’t have many of the ingredients necessary.”

Haymitch hummed, glancing at you with his dimmed, grey eyes. “I’ve never heard of Basques. Where did you come from, anyway?”

You giggled at that. It was true your people weren’t studied at school, only the districts who had Basques knew about them, so it wasn’t surprising for Haymitch to be ignorant about you. “We come from the old continent. Apparently our people were running away from a civil war and repression, and ended up in a place called Boise. They were shepherds. I think it was in District 7, but with industry being established in District 6 most of them moved there. Johanna told me there are some Basques still around there, anyway.”

“That’s just some bad luck. Fleeing from war just to end up here and repressed,” Haymitch murmured, no sarcasm in his tone for the first time that day.

You nodded, feeling a little bit appalled. “Yeah. I sometimes wonder how things would have been for them if they had stayed in their land.”

“Who knows, maybe it was worse there than it is here.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Do you really believe that?”

“No,” Haymitch scoffed. “We have the Games here and ninety percent of the population is dying of starvation.”

You looked around with wide eyes, hoping no one was paying attention to Haymitch. “You don’t mean it. C’mon, let’s get you some water to sober you u—...” The look on Haymitch’s eyes showed a determination you had yet to witness on him, shutting you up in mere seconds.

“Let them think what they want. I meant it when I said I had nothing else to lose. Your ancestors would have been better off staying in that old continent you talk about.” There was no debate. It was true. “Say, can you speak your language freely in District 6?” You shook your head.

“No. I mean, it had never been legal, but until a few years ago we were able to speak and sing and have our ceremonies in peace.”

Haymitch placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly at your saddened tone. “What changed?”

“Me,” you admitted, ashamed. “When I sang that mourning song to Sirius— My ally, apparently there were some clashes back in my district. Burned containers, trains on fire, Basque songs and mottos all over the streets… The laws about Basque hardened after that.”

“Seems like something Snow would do, especially covering it up,” Haymitch laughed punginly. “And your family?”

“Surprisingly they survived. I don’t know, I was terrified of finding them dead when I arrived.”

Haymitch stilled next to you, his hand on your shoulder becoming rigid and his eyes misted. In a second, he was back as he usually was, leaving you confused. “If there were riots, killing your family would have only caused more rage among the district. You were lucky.”

You caught on his own sad voice, almost disgruntled. He had been so mean during the first day of the Games, and the past year he had been overly drunk as much. It was so different from the way he behaved the rest of the time, so maybe something had happened to him during his Games that made him act like that on the fourth of July.

You clasped your hand over the one he held at your shoulder and squeezed it back. “Yeah, I got lucky in that sense. But it was a nightmare for my district. Sometimes I think I should’ve died in the bloodbath.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Burry died on the seventh day, two days before the end of the Games. In a very wicked, almost machiavellian thought, you were glad he was gone, because if he won, he would have to suffer the life of a victor. Now both angels were together on the Earth, back to Amalur.

You had done everything in your hand, Finnick could testify on your behalf. And now you had all the free time you wanted, much to your sorrow.

They had removed the pool from the training centre, so the only other enjoyable place was the bar. You were heading there, hoping to find Haymitch on the way, when someone pulled you inside a cleaning room. You were about to maneuver and take them down when a voice you recognised very well spoke from behind you.

“It’s me,” she whispered.

“Johanna!”

“Shh!” Your friend placed a hand over your mouth and waited for a few seconds, as if expecting anyone to open the door. But when everything remained steady, she removed it.

“What are we doing here?” you whisper-yelled, turning around to be face to face with Johanna. She had gained a little bit of weight, but she still was as pale as a ghost.

“Plutarch promised me this closet wouldn't be bugged. I needed to talk to you.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Yeah, me too. Where the hell have you been? We haven’t seen you in, what? A year? No letters, no phone calls, nothing. We were worried, you know? Sickly worried, and—”

“Y/N. Y/N!” Johanna stopped you, shaking your shoulders with force. “Let me speak, okay?” Her voice clipped, and you knew something was very wrong, because Johanna never cried. So you just nodded, to which she spoke after gathering some breaths. “I was… Still am, no more than ever, isn’t it? But I was in a rebel plan.”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

“Let me finish.” At your silence, she continued. “There was a plan to end the Games last year.”

“There’s a plan to end the Games every single year.”

“Exactly,” Johanna said, exasperated. “But last year it was bigger than I have ever seen. Beetee said there weren't that many people implicated since the last Quarter Quell.”

“Beetee? He was on it, too?”

“Y/N!”

“Sorry, sorry, continue.”

“But some of us got caught. A couple gamemakers, a Capitol rebel, and me.”

You felt your heart quickening. She had been caught. She had been caught.

“Y/N I… I never wanted it to be like that, I can’t get them back.” Johanna started hyperventilating. You grabbed her hand and placed it over your chest, so she started mimicking your breathing, although her sobs were becoming louder. “They drowned them! All of them! My parents, my little sister. Everyone! And it was my fault!”

Heartbroken for her family’s fate, you accompanied Johanna in her mourning, and let her cry on your shoulder, embracing her tightly. Johanna had been missing for a year because her family had been killed. And the first thing you did was scolding her. After years of this, you should had known better.

“It’s okay, Jo, everything’s gonna be okay,” you mumbled in her ear, caressing her head and rocking you both. “I’m with you. Finnick’s with you. You’ll be fine, sweetie.”

It took a while for her breathing to get to its normal pattern, you whispered as many soothing words as you could, knowing deep down that there was nothing you could do to help her other than supporting her grief.

Slowly, she pulled away from you, wiping her tears aggressively with the sleeve of her sweater. So much suffering for a nineteen year old.

“What can I do for you, Jo?”

She shook her head, breathing clipped in trembling sobs. “J-just… Stay here, please.”

“Of course.”

You still had so many questions. A rebel plan? Who had been part of it apart from the people Johanna mentioned? And why didn't you know about it? You were tempted to ask, but didn’t do so until Johanna had been completely calmed and steady.

“Johanna.”

She hummed, looking at you with tired eyes.

“Who else was part of the plan?”

She cocked her head to the side, biting her lip in thought. “Beetee, Chaff, Cashmere, Finnick—.”

“Wait!” Finnick? Finnick knew? “Why did you two know and I was left in the dark about it?”

“That’s what worries you? Not being included?” Johanna furrowed her brows.

“I mean, am I not trustworthy or what?”

She huffed a mirthless laugh. “Do you think this is a game?”

“Of course not! But I would have liked to be in a rebel plan, in case you forgot what happened in my district after I won.”

“Oh, forgive us, miss rebellion for not being able to catch you alone to get you in! Think it this way, at least your family IS ALIVE!”

A bucket of cold water fell over your bones, and shame wrapped around you like a blanket. “I’m sorry.” What were you thinking? Your friend had just lost her whole family because of rioting and this is how you react.

“Yeah, well. Can I continue or are you going to whine about not playing with us on the playground?” Her tone had become bitter, not that you deserved any better. “Plutarch—”

“Plutarch?” I gasped.

Johanna nodded, exasperated at your constant interruption, but you were left there, remembering all the times you had seen Beetee and Plutarch speaking publicly. You had never really paid them any mind, Plutarch was host of many of the events, so it was only natural to speak to him. But him being part of a rebel plan? What if he had been the one to give notice of what was happening among the walls of the Capitol? But that couldn’t be possible or Finnick would have suffered consequences, too. Or did he and he hadn’t told you?

But you couldn’t linger much on your thoughts when the last name left Johanna’s lips.

“And Haymitch.”

Tag list: @beingalive1 @timessa @chivasgozilla @bey0nd-1he-stars @anakhroni3m @heidiland05 @cailleachcola @needz1nk

#haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch x you #thg haymitch #thg sotr #thg series #sotr #sunrise on the reaping #hunger games #finnick odair #johanna mason

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theresatzu · 19 hours ago

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Blue Lock characters and being your study buddy

Starring. Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru, Reo Mikage, Nagi Seishirou, Itoshi Rin & Chigiri Hyuoma

Tags. crack

Isagi Yoichi

✎ He cannot focus. Like at all.

✎ He's the type who would constantly be distracted by every single thing. He cannot for the live of him concentrate on that boring piece of chopped wood they call a math book.

✎ Bounches his leg. Shifts every five minutes in his chair. Sighs. What does being quiet mean?

✎ He is surprisingly good at discovering patterns and finding logic in equations or questions when he actually locks in.

"Are you done yet?" Isagi's left leg bounced up and down.

"Not yet." You responded, not looking up from your notebook.

Isagi slumped back in his chair. "I want to play football."

You sighed. "You haven't even started."

"I know... but I just..."

You raised an eyebrow, "...Am too distracted?"

Isagi flushed. "No..."

You stared blankly at him.

"You've been staring at the window for over ten minutes now."

Isagi let out a loud sigh as he listlessly kicked the table leg.

"Look," You pushed Isagi's math book back to him.

Isagi's face fell.

Ignoring his dismayful look, you reasoned, "If you want to play more football, you have to get a good grade for math, or you'll be kicked off the team. Do you want that?"

Isagi's eyes widened. "Kicked off?! No one told me that!"

You raised an imperious eyebrow. "Better get going then."

"What the hell. Since when were you a math genius?" You exclaimed, looking over the equations Isagi had dutifully written down.

"Oh... I'm not?" Isagi bashfully scratched his neck. "I just saw some patterns, that's all."

You looked between Isagi's notebook and the man himself in disbelief.

"Dude. You can literally be like... a top student if you wanted to."

Isagi shrugged. "I think I'd prefer to be a top footballer."

Well, what could you say to that?

Bachira Meguru

✎ Similar to Isagi, he cannot focus. Likes to doodle all over his notes, with his tongue poking out between his lips in deep concentration.

✎ He's also restless. But worse. Will randomly like... jump from his chair, or make paper planes and throw them at passerbyers (Rin).

✎ When he's bored, he'll come to bother you, poking your cheek, nudging your side. Bachira is not a responsible study buddy.

"What are you doing."

You eyed Bachira's hunched figure, which was shielding something he had been working on for the past few minutes.

And by the looks of Bachira's mischievous grin, he was not up to any good.

"What?" Bachira asked innocuously.

You raised an eyebrow.

"I'm doing homework!" Bachira defended. "Look, I can say the days of the week in English! Monday, Tuu-tuesday... uh... weddo--weddosday?"

You made a face.

"It's Wednesday. And what are you planning?" You corrected, moving closer to take a better look, but Bachira hurriedly covered it with his arms.

"Show it to me." You demanded sternly.

"No." Bachira stuck out his tongue.

You moved your fingers, beckoning. "Come on. I don't have all day."

Bachira petulantly crossed his arms, "I'll show it to you when it's ready."

You clacked your tongue in annoyance. "Are you even ready with homework? Bet you haven't even started."

You swiped Bachira's chemistry notebook from underneath his nose.

Your eyes bulged.

"What the fuck did you draw?! Is that... is that me?!"

"Oh that?" Bachira laughed as he pointed at a very deformed figure. "That's you, when you try to catch the rain with your tongue."

"What."

"And look!" Bachira excitedly tapped onto another doodle he'd drawn. "That's Isagi, when he really gets into a game."

"You made his face three times bigger than his body."

Bachira snapped his fingers. "Exactly!"

"..."

"I need to sit down." Shaking your head, you leaned back in your stool.

You opened your bag and took a long swig of your water bottle.

"Oh wait! Is that a peppermint? Can I have one?" Bachira piped up, pointing at the peppermint role sticking out of your bag.

You removed the bottle from your lips. "Oh, Sure."

You handed him one.

You didn't see Bachira's twinkling eyes.

"Thanks!" Bachira walked off, as you sat down, determined to get the remainders of your homework wrapped up.

However, the peace didn't last long.

"Aha! That's what I was missing! Come on, Y/n, look!" Bachira pulled your arm, causing you to drag your pen all over your notes.

"Bachira!" You hissed.

"Come, come!" Bachira dragged you away, and pointed at...

"What have you done?!"

You shrieked, eyes widening, horrified, as you stared at the bulging coca cola bottle that was dangerously on the verge of bursting.

"Amazing, right?" Bachira cheekily grinned. "I call it the Bachira Special!"

"No. No, no. There is nothing special about this!" You hissed. "Don't you know what happens when you put mint in coca cola?"

"Uh... no? I didn't make my homework." Bachira shrugged.

You shot a dismayed look at Bachira's forgotten chemistry book.

You turned back to him, "You should've! Because it--"

The coca cola blew up, shooting up from the table and sprouting juice everywhere.

A loud kabam reverberated as it smashed against the ceiling. Then it fell down, straight onto--

"What the actual fuck."

You froze.

Itoshi Rin.

There he was, in all his mighty glory. And with coca cola dripping from his hair.

His eyes locked onto yours and Bachira's.

"We're dead, aren't we?" You whispered.

"Only if he catches us!" And without further ado, Bachira sprinted away.

"You traitor!" You yelled out, still rooted to your spot, but as you saw Rin lunge, your legs desperately pumped to get away from the murderous glint in his eyes.

As you catched up to Bachira, you panted. "You... you're terrible."

"Am I?" Bachira smiled.

"No." You heaved. "You're awful, loud, and--"

"A chemistry genius!"

"You're dead!" Rin yelled.

Reo Mikage

✎ Certified genius. Literally passes all his subjects with flying colours.

✎ Helps others, is actually a good tutor.

✎ Though, if he's bored, he'll whip out things like intricate diagrams that predict the flow of the economy, or reports of board meetings. No one really understands it. Except for Reo Mikage, of course.

"You've... already finished everything?" Your jaw fell to the ground.

"Oh, this? Yeah, not a big deal." Reo dismissively waved his hand.

"Not a big deal?!" You echoed, positively flummoxed. "You've done the homework for... the next two periods for all the subjects already?!"

"Oh." Reo made a disappointed noise. "Thought I'd already finished everything for the whole year. Guess I'll do the rest tomorrow."

"You're unbelievable." You shook your head.

"Well, if that's all, do you want to see some really exciting stuff?" Reo asked, enthused.

"Uh..." You eyed your half-made work. "...sure?"

Rookie mistake.

Half an hour later, you were pretty sure your brain was fried.

"Wait... wait, so... hold up, you're saying that the sudden...addition? Of a new company could cause... fluctu--fluctuations in the economy's growth to just... disappear?"

"Yeah! When we're talking about a monopoloy, then a new business could..." Reo droned on.

Your face fell.

Everything whirred, the world spun, and Reo was still talking. Still talking, and...

"You actually understand this?" You inquired incredulously.

"Huh? Yeah, of course. These are just the basics." Reo shrugged.

Shrugged as if this was child's play for him.

Shrugged as if this was just a walk in the park for him.

Shrugged as if he didn't see the ominous glint in your eyes.

Reo went on. "Interesting, right? Right? Wait, Y/n, where are you going? Wait... why are you walking to the window? No, don't open it--DON'T STICK YOUR LEG OUT--"

Nagi Seishirou

✎ Does... nothing. Except sleeping and lazing around.

✎ Despite his unprolific attitude towards his studies, he actually manages to perform exceptionally.

✎ He'll be that guy that'll do nothing, but then solves the most groundbreaking, world-devastating problem ever.

"He's just... sleeping. Why is he even here?" One of your study buddies asked.

"At least he doesn't snore." Another grumbled.

You sighed. "He wanted to come. Wait. Scratch that. His exact words were: "It's too much of a hassle to walk back home.""

"Well, sounds like him." Another shrugged. "Hey, can someone help me with his sum? I don't understand it. I was pretty sure I had applied the right rule to it, but it doesn't seem to bring me any further."

Someone winced. "Ah... geometry. Literally the bane of my existence."

You took a glance at the question and blanched. Yeah, this was just a reach too far.

When no one seemed to be able to help, the person threw their hands. "Ugh! I'm going to get a one at this rate! This shit's too difficult!"

"I feel you buddy, I feel you." Another commiserated.

"Why do they even give this to us poor kids?! What's wrong with them?"

"What's all the fuzz about?" A sleepy voice drawled, causing the exclaims to take on another note.

"Wow. So he's not a statue?"

"I thought he wasn't breathing."

"Nagi, we were just discussing math." You elaborated.

"Oh." Nagi blinked. "Can we go home?"

You made a face. "Sorry, but we need to get this sum solved, or we'll be in trouble later."

"Oh." Nagi shuffled. "That sum?" He pointed at the one you'd been on the verge of pulling your hair out for.

Nagi squinted his eyes for a moment.

Then, "Just apply statement of Thales, then use the uniformity used in right triangles before you calculate the acreage of the highlighted field." Nagi blurted out.

A silence fell.

"Holy crap... he's right!"

"What the hell... he's been sleeping all this time and he actually managed to solve it... is he an actual monster?!"

"Can you just make all my homework for the year? No the next few years?"

Turning an ignorant ear to the other's words, Nagi tugged on your sleeve. "That was such a hassle. Do you have to do that all the time?"

You chuckled, teasing, "Not everyone can effortlessly pick that up from the get go."

"Oh." Nagi's mouth moved. "Well, I solved it. Can we go home?"

You shook your head. "Fine." You inclined your head, "Get on."

Nagi draped himself over your back, his face nuzzling your neck. "I don't understand why everyone makes such a deal about that. Ugh, my head hurts from all that thinking."

You raised an eyebrow. "You've slept for two hours straight."

"That's exhausting, too." Nagi defended. "But this is nice." His body went slack as he relaxed against you.

Nagi yawned. "Maybe you should just carry me in my dreams, too."

Itoshi Rin

✎ Only does his best when he wants to. He's the sort of person that'll only excell if he actually puts his mind to it.

✎ Doesn't even do the homework, except for English, because that's the only subject he finds important for his professional football career.

✎ When he's done with English, you might be able to guess it, but yes, he'll do only football related things afterwards.

"Hey Rin, do you know the answer to the third question of math?"

"Huh?" Rin looked up from his studybook. Without even glancing at your book, he responded, "No."

You blanched. "You haven't even looked!"

"That's because I don't make math, dumbass." He responded.

Your eyebrows furrowed. "Huh? Why not?"

Rin shrugged, his eyes still glued to his book. "I don't need it. Why would I waste time on such trivial things?"

"But then... what are you doing now?"

You curiously chanced a look at Rin's book, wondering what he actually did do.

"English?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Is that the only subject you learn for?" You asked incredulously.

Rin irritatedly looked up. "Yeah. I don't need anything else, as I've said before."

"Well... how good is your English then?" You couldn't help but ask.

"Tch." Rin rolled his eyes as he shoved a paper in your face.

With a perfunctory eye roll at Rin's typical antics, you grabbed it from him.

Your mouth fell open.

"Rin?! You got full marks on the writing assignment?"

"What? Should that be a surprise?" Rin replied, aloof.

"Uh... I guess... no?"

The answer was yes. One thousand times yes.

The writing assignment was extremely difficult, even just one eeny teeny mistake could cost one tenth of a point.

And Rin had received full marks.

"You... how did you not make any mistakes...? You had to write at least twenty pages..." You whispered, amazed.

Your eyes widened. "Wait--if you're that good, how come you're so shit--uh... less better at the others? You can easily be top of the class!"

Rin let out an exaggerated sigh. "How many times must I repeat this? I have no interest for things that don't have any purpose." He slammed his book closed.

He shoved his books in his bag. "I'm done with studying."

You checked the clock. Hardly twenty minutes had passed.

You raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You're just going to fail all the other subjects?"

Rin's eyebrow tilted. "I'll get passable grades. The thing that really matters is becoming better and crushing my older brother."

"..."

Ignoring your baffled expression, Rin took out another notebook.

"What's that?" You peeked at his notebook over his shoulder, in which Rin was scribbling some notes.

"Football analysis." Rin curtly replied while taking out his protactor.

You chanced a glimpse at his notes.

The colour drained from your face.

"Wait Rin..." Your eyes widened.

"What."

"You... did you just apply the second rule of Newton?!"

"Huh?"

Nodding to yourself, you prodded a finger at Rin's notes. "Yeah, look. You've ciphered out from underneath which hook and with what amount of strength to hit the ball to get it in the right corner on a windy day!"

Rin rolled his eyes. "That's just common knowledge."

You gaped at him. "No, it's not. Look, you even applied Pythagoras there."

"I need to know the distance to the corner of the goal." Rin deadpanned. "Any normal person would know how to calculate that. Now shut up, I don't need your blabbering to disrupt me."

And with that, Rin went unperturbed back to his notebook, scribbling down more formulas and equations the man himself was unaware of.

You shook your head.

"Normal person, my ass." You mumbled.

Chigiri Hyouma

✎ Is good at explaining. If he wants to. Might be a little mean, but he means well.

✎ Favourite subjects are English and History, so he won't really spend much time on the others. Doesn't mean that he isn't good at them, though.

✎ His notes are neat and organised. Anyone would beg for them.

✎ Chigiri values speed and efficiency, so he'll make sure to be the first one who's done.

"Wow Chigiri, your notes are impeccable." You complimented in awe, as you watched Chigiri neatly highlight something he'd written in his elegant calligraphy.

"Ah, really? Thanks. Yours not too teribble, either." Chigiri carded his fingers through his hair.

You chuckled. "So, do you think you can help me with this question of English?"

"Hm? Sure." Chigiri looked up from his notebook. "Which one?"

"This one." You pointed at a particular trying question. "I'm wondering if this conditional is correct in this specific context."

Chigiri's eyes narrowed. "What did you have?"

""If I had been elected I would have been president by now.""

It was silent.

Then,

"Pfftt..." Chigiri's shoulders shook.

"Hey! Don't laugh!" You snapped, ears flushing red.

"Ha ha!" Chigiri slapped the table. "It's: "If I had been elected, I would be president by now", because it's a hypothetical happening in the past with a present result."

"Huh?" Your eyebrows whizzed together, before realisation dawned in. "Oh! I guess you're right. But," You punched his arm, "don't be such an arse about it!"

"Sorry, sorry." Chigiri said with a grin.

You made a face. "...You're not actually sorry, are you?"

"You're right, I'm not." Chigiri flipped his hair.

Tch. Diva.

You threw your hands. "You're impossible."

"No, I'm just fast." Chigiri winked, as he slung his bag over his shoulder.

You tilted your head. "What are you doing?"

"What? You haven't finished yet?" Chigiri teasingly flicked your forehead.

You grumbled, "I'll be faster than you."

"Oh, yeah? Try to catch up then."

And before you knew it, Chigiri had ran off.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" You yelled.

Chigiri's smile only widened, swinging with something in his hands.

Your eyes went wide.

"Give me my English book back!"

Chigiri ran.

"I'll pull your hair!" You threatened, voice suddenly dangerously close.

Aw shit.

Chigiri ran faster.

Masterlist

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