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asumofwords · 3 months

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Common Factors - Michael Gavey x Reader

Synopsis: Part 2 of Midpoint, though can be read as a standalone. Michael Gavey asked you out for a drink and you had surprisingly agreed. Will you be able to tolerate each others wit without bickering, or will you lose yourself to him once more?

Warnings: This fic is 18+, readers discretion is advised. Public fingering, teasing, degradation, name calling, voyeurism, dumbification, finger fucking, biting, bratty reader. This is porn with barely any plot.

Word Count: 6k

Notes: Hello my angels, I know you have all been waiting so patiently for part two of Midpoint and here it is! Now I can't say that there will be a third/final chapter, but I may have ideas for it. No promises though. Saltburn has made me so nostalgic, I miss MSN messenger and MySpace. I miss the early 2000s so much, the tackiness of it, how everything was just to the max. Lmao. I also miss Tamagotchis. *Sigh*, nostalgia. Anywayyyyy, thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy! <3

Part 1 - Midpoint

When Michael had asked you out for a drink, or rather asked if you wanted to get a drink, it was not really a distinct question of going on a date with him or not, and perhaps you were arguing semantics right now, but that was besides the point.

He had thought that you would go right after your little event in the library. His eagerness was riddled by anxiety, clear for anyone, not that there was anyone in the vicinity, to see or hear, you hoped.

You had shifted awkwardly for a moment, feeling his spend slide down you thigh in the large hole he had ripped in your stockings, explaining that you wouldn’t be able to go that evening.

He wilted.

It strummed a cord in your chest, and so you quickly explained that it was because of said issue between your legs, and not that you didn’t want to see him again. The fire in his eyes lit up again, and for a moment, the hair on the back of your neck stuck up. It felt as if you were about to be confronted once more by his obnoxious spite, though thankfully, and only because of your quick explanation, did he soften and you exchange details for your respected MSN Messenger accounts.

The night after he was busy, apparently there was some sort of important chess tourney that he would be going to with his friend, you were unaware that he had any, and so he proposed the night after. But the night after you had told your best friend that you would bus into the city centre to meet with her, so that was no go as well.

You both thankfully settled on the Friday later that week, agreeing to meet at the small pub you frequented, which you found he did too. Each time the computer dinged at his reply, a thrill of excitement crawled through you. He was rather curt in his messages, but eager, and would often would send moving emojis at the end, which you saved and would send back.

Friday rolled around quickly, and you found yourself eager to see him again. You spent a solid two hours fretting over what to wear, deciding that pants or tights were not an option this time despite the cold weather.

You settled on a cute little outfit, the skirt of it coming to your mid thigh, looking at yourself in the mirror as you left before triple checking your computer and Nokia for any messages to say he was late, or couldn’t come, but none came. The last message he had sent to you, was a smiling thumbs up that moved largely across your screen agreeing to see you at 7pm sharp.

You left early, earlier than what was needed, and sped walked the entire way to the pub, pulling your large jacket tightly around you, scarf covering the lower half of your face. The air was particularly crisp that evening, and by the looks of it, it may snow later, and although it was quite cold, you could see from afar that the pub was full, the winter air not deterring them.

When you opened the door, the stale stench of its beer soaked floorboards filled your senses, loud music and even louder people, drinking and smoking and laughing in large groups without any care for the world. You knew that break would soon enough be coming to an end, and all the students would now be slowly making their way back, spending their last days or weeks of break with friends on campus and the establishments surrounding.

The air inside the venue was stuffy, and almost wet with condensation, and as you rose on your tip toes, looking over the heads of others at their tables, or at the bar, you struggled to spot the familiar sandy blonde hair from your library, and the glasses that sat perched on his sharp nose.

You pulled out your Nokia, checking the time and also checking for any messages.

It was 6:57.

You were early.

But not too early.

Heading straight for the bar, you ordered yourself a drink, eyes drifting back over the pub, looking at the faces to see if you could see him with anyone. When again, you didn’t spot him, you told yourself not to panic, and instead decided that you would find yourself a spot to sit. There was table in the far corner, away from most, its surface was cleared bar a half drunken pint, hidden in the shadows and pressed against the wall between two larger tables, filled with people. You paid for your drink, and headed straight for the empty seat, winding past the pulled out chairs and wafts of smoke.

You were halfway there when a figure popped into your periphery. Your eyes locked onto a pair of familiar blue ones, a twitching smile pulling at his sharp yet plump lips. He came towards you from the direction of the loo, and you watched as he wiped his hands down the sides of his pants despite them looking dry.

“Hey.” You smiled, stopping short of the table, to awkwardly look up at him as he made his way over.

“Hi.”

You shifted awkwardly around each other before you leant forward to give him a hug, he wrapped one arm around you stiffly in reciprocation, before pulling back to straighten, eyeing the drink in your hand.

“You get me one?” Michael nodded his head to your drink.

Your brows furrowed softly, “Uh, no. I wasn’t sure if you were here.”

Michael hummed, “I’m never late.”

Here we go again, you inwardly sighed. This is just what you didn't need. Another run in with his attitude.

“I wasn’t to know that.”

Michael stared at you a moment longer before turning away to the bar. You watched him awkwardly, yet somehow confidently, move through what little people stood at the counter waiting, standing rod straight as he ordered himself another pint. As he waited, you took your seat on the side where the half drunk beer wasn’t, back to the wall and completely cornered in.

When Michael came back, beer in hand, you let yourself graze your eyes over him. You couldn’t stifle the laugh that exploded from your lips. He frowned as he sat opposite you, a tinge of defensiveness showing on his strong features.

“What?” He almost sneered, watching as you brought a hand to your mouth to try and cover it up.

“I’m sorry,” You giggled again, having to look at the ceiling for two seconds, trying to compose yourself, pushing a breath out shakily, “Your shirt.”

You began to laugh again, watching him as he looked down at it, inspecting it for a stain or hole.

“What’s wrong with my shirt?” He asked clinically, not finding a rip or hole or bird shit which he had suspected was there for a moment on the material.

You bit your bottom lip and giggled again, “It’s awful.”

Tucked into his cargo pants and black leather belt was one of the worst shirts you had ever laid eyes upon. It was white, and in big font on the front, it read ‘Weapon of Math Instructions’. On it, small drawings of calculators, protractors, and sums surrounded the large font.

In a quieter voice this time, he replied, “I got it for my birthday.” He picked up the sweating beer to bring to his lips, the foam coating his mouth as he drank deeply.

You felt a tinge of regret for laughing at him so openly, even though it was admittedly the worst shirt you had ever seen, “Do you enjoy maths puns, Gavey?” You tried to sound flirtatious, but in the moment you sounded more unsure than anything.

Michael took the beer away from his lips, swiping the back of his hand against his mouth, “If they’re funny. Why?”

“Do you have more shirts like this?” You tried to contain your mirth and failed.

The curiosity melted away, and a stony expression slipped over his face, “You’re taking the piss.”

You shook your head, heart speeding up, “No! No, sorry, Michael. I swear I’m not, I just, I wanted to- I’m trying-“

“-For someone whose degree relies heavily on the english word, you sure do struggle to find them.” The smirk on his lips was a thinly thing that indicated that he was being playful, but if he hadn't of smirked, you wouldn't have known. His tone was flat, his body posture stiff, and not once did he laugh, but you knew him.

And it more intimate than you would have liked.

Tongue in cheek in you leant back in your chair, feeling a comfortable little bubble surround you, the tension that was there only simmering in the background now, and not drowning you in it.

“How was the chess tourney?” You took a sip from your drink as he watched you.

“Fascinating, if it’s something of interest.”

His answer surprised you,.

“And was it of interest?”

“TBD.”

You took another sip of your drink, “My nan used to play chess with me when I was little.”

This seemed to peak Michael’s interest greatly, “You can play?”

You shook your head humbly, smiling, “I can play, though I’m probably not very good.”

“We should play.” His answer was so immediate, so abrupt, that you could only blink before remembering to reply.

“What, now?”

Michael raised his brows at you as though you were intellectually stunted, “Do you see any chess boards in this shit hole?”

You breathed sharply through your nose, “No.” You said more afronted than intended, “I was just asking-“

“-You ask a lot of questions but don’t know what ones you want the answers for.”

Annoyance began to bloom in your chest, “I thought we were done with this tit-for-tat nonsense. Or did you want a round two, Gavey?”

A soft blush spread across his cheeks, and you knew you had him.

“Are you going to ask me about my day?” You cheeked, enjoying the way he flustered slightly, and then held back an angry sneer.

“How was it?”

“How was what?”

Michaels jaw tensed, and you bit your inner cheek to not smile, “Your day.”

A large grin spread across your lips along with a false expression of realisation, “Oh, my day! My day was fine, thank you, Michael. I did some reading, I did some study, and then I got myself ready to have drinks with a right git.”

Michael sucked his teeth loudly, “You’re funny. Should be a comedian instead of studying them.”

“You’re cute,“ You countered, “Should smile more instead of sneer.”

“I thought you said we were done with this nonsense.”

“I did, and I am. Starting…. Now.” You smiled widely, bringing your drink up to toast.

Michael looked at you oddly, then to the glass in your hand before finally he brought his up, connecting the two cups.

You smiled wider, proud to be ready to say something you know will interest him,“‘If you can’t explain it simply, you don’t understand it well enough.’”

Michael's glass slammed down onto the table, his body leaning towards you in palpable excitement, “How do you know that?” His voice was eager, like you had lit a flame inside of him.

You smiled smugly, sipping on your drink, proud of yourself to have garnered such a reaction, “Learnt it with my degree. Einstein wasn’t just a man of maths. He was an important part of modern history. Especially regarding his involvement, or I should say rather, his non-involvement in the Manhattan Project.”

Michael's eyes lit up behind his glasses before he picked up his beer and thrust it against yours again, “Glad they’re teaching you something of importance.”

You huffed and laughed and sipped, watching as Michael settled his chair closer to you. It felt as if a door had been opened, and suddenly you were able to step inside the world that was Michael Gavey.

“You know,” You smirked, feeling heat from him beside you, chairs still apart, but bodies leant towards each other, “Art and History is just as important as Maths and Science.”

Gavey looked as though you had declared that the Earth was flat. It was a peculiar little look that made you want to lean across the space and press your lips squarely against his.

“I’m being serious.” You continued, “Without art, without history, the world would be a lot more boring than it is now.”

Michael pursed his lips at you, “Whatever helps you rationalise your choice of degree.”

You sipped your drink, eyes watching him over the rim of your glass, “I’ll let that slide. Only because I know you like watching me get riled up.”

“You’re rather confident of yourself this evening.” He commented, his blue eyes gleaming behind his glasses.

“And you’re rather goading. Not that that’s out of the ordinary.”

His fingers strummed against the table as he looked at you, eyes roaming over your body, “You look nice.”

“I would say the same, but I hate lying, and that shirt is an abomination.” You teased, bumping your shoulder into his lightly.

He smiled.

When did it become this?

How did it become so easy for you to melt into this conversation with him of all people?

Only earlier this week the two of you were at each others throats, snarling and fighting, and now here you were, seated beside each other, making little jokes and sitting intimately close.

“Careful. Tit-for-tat.” Michael warned you, and you rolled your eyes playfully with a huff.

It seemed to please him, and soon enough you were moving through a smooth conversation. He mostly asked you about your studies and friends, and even asked about your family.

And you learnt about his. A fairly standard, run of the mill family. One sister, and an older brother, had a dog growing up, and now has a fish.

But soon enough the conversation drifted back to your studies.

“Are you looking forward to term starting again?” You asked.

You felt as though he would be, his desire for learning and studying was clear whenever he spoke about it. He was passionate, and it was something that you admired about him. Or at least, now you did.

Michael shrugged, “I’m looking forward to graduating.”

This confused you.

“Why?”

Michael frowned, “Why do you think? I’m second in our year, I barely need to study-“

“-All you do is study, Michael.”

“Because there’s not much else to do here, I don’t have friends like you do.” Michael sneered the word friends, and immediately you knew who he was referring to.

“Michael-“

“-It’s different for us. People who aren’t ‘in’. Theres no parties, or accolades, only our degree.”

“You know that I’m not-“

“-I know that you don’t think you are, but whether you like it or not, they consider you one of them.”

You frowned. You didn’t like hearing that, especially with what Farleigh had said to you. You hated it because whilst it was wrong, it was still true. You did get invited to the parties, you had them all on MySpace and MSN, and even had their numbers in your phone. But for you, it was different, and Michael knew it.

You pushed your tongue against the side of your mouth, “I’ll bring you as my plus one to the next party. Then you can see that you’re not missing out on much.”

“You’d be seen with me in public? With them watching?” He said it with a laugh, though it was entirely humourless.

Your head tilted to the side, “We’re in public right now, aren’t we?” You looked around the pub, watching the many faces around you before settling back onto his. His expression was unreadable, until finally-

“We are in public.” He smirked. Gavey downed the rest of his beer quickly, all but slamming his glass onto the table, though not loud enough to garner any attention from the other patrons.

Michaels hand grabbed the seat of your chair and pulled it roughly towards him. You let out a squeak of surprise as your seat shifted against the floor suddenly, almost making you lose your balance.

“Michael!”

“What?” He asked innocently.

“What are you doing?” Your heart began to quicken, his hand coming down to brush against your thigh as he intently stared at you from behind his glasses.

“I’m not doing anything.” His hand inched higher, grazing your inner thigh.

In a small panic, you lifted your gaze to the rest of the pub. Not one person had looked up when he dragged you to him, nor had anyone taken even the slightest bit of interest about the two students hidden in the dark corner table. Everyone in the pub was drunk and too absorbed by their own conversations and friends to notice anyone else.

“What’s wrong?” Gavey teased, voice dipping lower as he openly mocked you, his pinky finger skirting against the edge of your panties.

Your brain had short circuited itself.

You were in public.

Where anyone could see.

And Michael had his hand under your skirt, teasing you.

This was what not what you would have expected from the man who was currently wearing a maths pun on his shirt. Your hand dropped under the table and grabbed his wrist tightly, stopping him from moving it any higher, though this didn’t prevent him from continuing to run his pinky back and forth under the elastic of your panties.

Heat coursed through you, and your core clenched around nothing.

“What are you doing?” You asked breathlessly, a rhetorical question really. You knew just as well as he did exactly what he was doing.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Gavey.”

“I’ll tell you what,” He smirked again, eyes locked onto your face, watching as you struggled internally, “You sit there and be a good girl for me, and when we go back to your room, I will give you what you want.”

You blinked.

Michael squeezed your thigh roughly, “Use your words.”

“Okay.” You breathed.

“Okay what?”

“Yes.” Your blood pumped loudly in your ears, air struggling to get inside of you as you squirmed in anticipation.

“Yes, who?”

You wet your lips with your tongue, mouth suddenly feeling dry, “Yes, Michael.”

He could be so demeaning so quickly. Like a switch was flicked. He went from this awkward, sneering maths genius to a cold and domineering man who could pull any response he liked from you.

“Better.” He smiled, “Now,” Swiftly Michael tugged your panties to the tide, two fingers immediately grazing your centre. You jerked as he slowly dragged his fingers through your folds and up to your clit.

You were soaked.

“Tell me what they’ve taught you about Einstein, since you want to use his words as a toast.” He looked you in the eyes as your breath caught on itself, his fingers swirling around your bud slickly.

Michael suddenly paused, stilling his fingers, “Unless you only used him to try and impress me?”

Irritation coursed through you alongside frustration, “I didn’t use him to im-“ Your voice stilted as he began to rub his fingers against you again.

“To what?” He mocked you.

“I-Impress you. We learnt abou-t him and his wife recently.”

“The wife he divorced?”

“Yes.” You grit through your teeth, pleasure winding powerfully through you. Your toes curled in your shoes, stomach clenching as his fingers dipped back down to your entrance, scooping up more of your slick to drag back to your bud. Your eyes flittered around the pub, checking nervously to see if anyone had noticed what was going on underneath the table.

No-one had.

“Surely you can find the words to tell me more?” One long finger suddenly pressed inside of you, causing you to gasp loudly, hands gripping the edge of the table tightly, “Or are you dumb already?”

“H-his wife was a brilliant physicist,” You struggled to control yourself as he crooked the long finger inside of you, curling it up against your inner walls, “And a-a mathematician.”

“Was she now?”

“Yes. Mileva Marić. They were married for a decade, and he-“ All thoughts escaped you as Michael added a second finger with the first, the stretch pressing into you deliciously as he immediately hooked his digits. You blinked mouth agape whilst looking at him, feeling your face become flushed.

His eyes were half lidded as he watched at you intently, watching your every reaction, testing and teasing to see what made you tick, eager to make you come undone.

This was affecting him as much as it was you.

Only he didn’t care for others catching on.

His stare urged you to continue.

“H-he was cruel to her.” You muttered, brain struggling to catch up.

Michael hummed, “Most men of historical notice were. It was the norm.”

“It doesn’t m-mean that it was okay.”

“No. But a man such as him surely deserves more merit in your eyes.” As his fingers crooked into you, slowly rubbing the spongy patch inside, his thumb pressed against your bud, causing you to shift your hips towards him, grinding down on his hand as you breathed a breathy moan, “Einstein did things that no men could.”

“I-if it was all his w-work to begin with.” You argued weakly, unable to keep your voice sturdy.

“What do you mean?” Michael’s interest halted his hands movement, but this lapse in control only lasted a moment before he corrected himself and began again.

“M-Mileva scored higher than him in applied physics. Five to his one. I-It's believed she helped him complete equations that he couldn’t without the credit. I-It's why he promised her the money f-from his Nobel Prize.”

The mans fingers slowed down their ministrations as he digested your stuttered information, the coil within you already beginning to tighten, “Fascinating.” He breathed, edging closer to you, “Tell me more.”

“Many women-” Michaels thumb began to quicken, halting your thoughts abruptly, your hands still clutching the edge of the table, knuckles aching.

“Many women, what?” He parroted you meanly, “Don’t tell me you’re close already, are you?”

You swallowed thickly, not willing to open your mouth lest a moan or gasp fall out. Michael chuckled quietly, his fingers quickening the pace within, causing you to arch towards him and grind down against his hand again. His arm subtly moved against you, and if anyone in the pub looked, they would surely know what was going on.

“Look at you,” He cooed, his other hand brushing hair behind your ear, “Already so close.”

You whined, trying to shift closer to him and his hand, if that was even possible.

“Does it turn you on that I’ve got my hand in your cunt for all to see?” He purred, “If someone just turned around right,” His fingers pulled out from you momentarily, moving up to your clit where he pinched it between thumb and forefinger, causing you to jerk, “Now, and looked closely enough, they’d be able to see how you’re desperately grinding down against my fingers.”

Your core clenched around him at his words.

“Oh, you do like it.” He tutted, “Such a dirty little whore.”

You whined again, “Michael I-“

“Shhh, don’t you worry that pretty, little, empty head.” He cooed, emphasised by swift rubbing circles on your bud, “I’ll take care of you, but only if you behave.”

You nodded desperately, feeling yourself get closer and closer to the edge. You would do anything. You were desperate at this point. The week of waiting for him had filled you with anticipation, and meant you spent most of your nights with your fingers or vibrator between your thighs thinking about him and your last meeting in the library.

Michael watched you nod and grind down on his hand, his pace slowing so that you couldn’t get much out of it besides a slow and steady buzz of pleasure.

He seemed to think for a moment, deliberating, before an almost cruel smirk pulled at his lips.

“Do you know your times tables?” He asked, fingers almost still at this point, only languidly moving to keep you riled, or to remind you of what he was doing.

You could scarcely think, scarcely exist without feeling as though you were at any moment about to come undone, his hands keeping you just at the precipice. Your mind was hazy, and any and all thoughts of substance had seemed to escape you.

“Use your words.” He encouraged you in a demeaning manner.

“Y-Yes.”

“Good. Not just a pretty face then.” The backhanded comment could have made you smile, “We are going to play a game.”

Could have.

Your eyes widened slightly, hands dropping down to clutch the underside of the table, “A game?”

“Yes.” He gave you an encouraging smile, “Good job. A game.” He was treating you like you were a child who is only just beginning to understand a basic concept, “I’m going to ask you an equation, and you’re going to answer it. If you’re correct, you get a reward. If not,” He paused, fingers teasing you again, “You get punished. Do you understand? Or do I need to dumb it down for you?”

The way he was speaking to you, so meanly, so smugly, made you clench harder around his fingers.

You liked when he was mean to you.

“Answer me. Yes or no.”

“Y-yes.”

“Good girl. Alright,” His hand paused its movements, pulling his fingers out to just rest lightly against your bud, barely touching you, “What is the sum of seven times nine? I’ll use small numbers so that it doesn’t confuse you.”

Slowly, you did the maths in your head, “Sixty-three.”

Michael smirked, “Good girl.” You keened at the praise, and felt his fingers press a little harder into you, his movements beginning to start again slowly, though not enough to give you any pleasure.

“What is fifteen times six?”

Oh god.

“Um,” You shifted, blinking rapidly to try and do the maths, but every time you got somewhere, Michael would press against you harder as if he knew, ruining your train of thought.

“Come on,” He teased with a swirl of his fingers, “That’s an easy one.”

-5 is 75, then-

“Ninety.” You gasped out.

“Good, good. So clever of you.” He cooed, though the sarcasm dripped from his lips. His fingers once again pressed harder, sparks of pleasure finally springing up inside of you. The sound of the pub was loud around you, and in the dim light, you could see that a blush had spread across his cheeks.

“One more and then I’ll give you your reward. If you get it wrong, then you get nothing. Ready?”

You nodded shakily, chasing his hands with your hips. He tsk-ed you and stilled his hands, “Don’t be greedy.” You apologised softly and stilled, waiting for him to start again.

"Twelve times seventeen.”

Oh God.

What?

“M-michael, that’s not-“

“What? It’s easy enough. Even the thickest of people could get it. Though I suppose you’re getting all pretty and dumb for me anyway.”

“I-“

“How about this,” He smirked, and the way he did it caused you to sit on edge, “I’ll help you since you’re such a stupid little girl.” Michael plungers his fingers into you with no warning, immediately fucking them into you rapidly.

You sucked in air sharply, feeling the coil within begin to pull taught.

“Twelve times fifteen is one-hundred-and-eighty. You need two more twelves. Do you know what two times twelve is?”

Did you?

Jesus.

“I- It’s twenty four.” You answered shakily, surprised at your own voice.

“Twelve times seventeen?” He repeated the original question, “Oh dear, you really do have no brain.”

“N-No.” Your voice shook with how roughly and quickly Michael fucked you on his fingers, “Two times twelve.”

“Ah, clever little idiot. Go on now, what is one-hundred-and-eighty plus twenty-four.”

Your brain couldn’t do it, too hazy with how he was degrading you and how well he was touching you. You just wanted to cum. All you wanted was to cum. And then his thumb joined, swirling over your clit slickly as his fingers pistoned in and out of you, the sound of your wet rising from beneath the table. Your arousal pooled onto the back of your skirt and the wood of the seat.

“T-two-hundred-and-“ Michael pressed his thumb brutally against your clit suddenly, fire coursing through you, ruining your train of thought once again.

Damn him.

“Two-hundred-and what?”

Oh god.

“Two?”

Michael frowned at you, though you could tell that he was pleased, his fingers pulled away from you quickly, your eyes widening.

“N-No!” You grabbed his wrist keeping it against your inner thigh, his slick fingers pressing against your skin, “I-I-“

“Wrong answer.” He tutted, “You’re so fucking stupid. So fucking stupid and desperate, look at you.”

“Please, please,” You begged, clit throbbing, “I know- I know what the sum is. Please.” You pulled his hand back to your core, his fingers stiff as you ground against them desperately, “It’s two-hundred-and-four. Two-hundred-and-four. Michael, please.”

Michael’s fingers did not move, and watched you with entertainment as you desperately rubbed him against you. You needed to cum. You needed it. You didn’t care who saw. You didn’t care if it was degrading. You needed him. And you needed him now.

“Look how fucking desperate you are.” He laughed, “So pathetic. Whining like a bitch in heat as you grind against my hand. Are you that desperate to be a little whore?”

“Yes. Please. Please, Michael. Please. I need it.”

“You need it?” He smirked.

You were so close, so so close, “Please, please.”

“Tell me you need me.” He breathed, face coming closer to yours, his breath fanning agains your lips.

You licked your lips again, swallowing thickly, “I need you.”

Gavey smiled toothily, “You’re so pathetic.”

And without a second thought, or really without even a first thought, you nodded in agreement, “I’m pathetic. Please. Please, Michael, I want you.”

“What will you do to get it?”

“Anything. Please.”

“Anything?” He asked again, eyes searching your face.

You nodded desperately, needing him more than you had ever needed something before “Please.”

“Okay.” His fingers slipped back into you as he breathed the word, almost as if he was bored, like fucking you with his hand in public was an all too boring affair.

Mundane.

Little to nothing coming out of it for him. But in that moment you didn’t care as the coil within began to wind again.

“Fuck.”

Michael leant forward, his lips beside your ear so that you could hear him clearly, “You’re going to cum on my hand in this disgusting little pub like the dumb, desperate, little slut that you are, and then you’re going to thank me for it. Understood?”

“Yes.” You whined, hand gripping his wrist as it pummelled into you, thumb brutally swiping your clit as his fingers brushed over the sensitive patch inside of you over and over.

“You’re close already, aren’t you?” His lips brushed your neck, causing a shiver to roll through you.

“Fuck. Y-yes.”

Michael leant forward, his lips brushing against the skin beneath your ear, his sharp nose nuzzling into your hair before he bit down on you roughly, causing you to gasp. To anyone else in the pub it would have looked like an intimate gesture, a man trying to whisper something sweet into his dates ear, but to you, it was damning.

You were so close, so so close, and all it took was four little words to send you over the edge. Michaels tongue lapped at where he had bit you before he came back to your ear one last time.

“I own you now.”

Pleasure erupted through you, your release bursting from within. You jerked in your chair against him, tucking your head into the side of your neck as you hid your face, grinding down onto his had as you whimpered. Michael plucked pleasure from deep within you, his hand not once slowing, prolonging your orgasm. It was only when it began to subside did his hand slow as you breathed raggedly against his neck, slumped into your chair and against him.

Your heart thumped against your ribs as you panted, and gently Gavey withdrew his fingers from within you, a wince falling from your lips from oversensitivity before he pulled your panties back into place.

Michael cooed you gently, “Good job.” Almost inaudible in the loud of the pub, “So good f’me.”

Fatigue washed over you like a wave, crashing into you so fiercely that you didn’t have the strength to sit up yet. You were fucked out, mind thinking of absolutely nothing as you nuzzled your face into his neck further, breathing in his scent.

“Hm,” Michael hummed, “You still with us?”

You hummed back in reply dreamily, only moving back when Michael pulled you away, watching you with half lidded gaze as he looked over your disheveled form. Michael laughed again, eyes crinkling in the corners as he brushed his hand against your cheek. Your first thought was how pretty he was when he smiled, and then you felt the wetness of your slick clinging to your skin crudely.

With a curious touch, Michael moved his fingers across your lips, the taste of yourself tart and warm as he caressed you. You opened your mouth for him and let his fingers inside, immediately tasting yourself as he rubbed his digits against your tongue slowly as you held your mouth open for him, drool beginning to pool at your bottom lip.

“Such a good little girl for me, aren’t you?”

You nodded lazily, small smile flicking at the edges of your lips. Michael pulled his fingers from your mouth and used his thumb to smear the saliva that had pooled at your bottom lip over lips messily.

He tutted, “Dirty girl.”

“Mmm.” You hummed in content.

Michael eyed your half drank drink, nodding towards it, “Finish it.”

You did as he bid, brining it to your lips as you kept your eyes on him, swallowing it quickly before placing the glass back on the table, a warm fuzzy feeling slipping over you, a little space that was warm and safe and cozy. Then Michael stood, rather abruptly, like he had remembered that he forgot to turn the stove off, chair hitting the wall behind him as he looked down below at you.

“Time to go.”

You stood, on shaky legs to follow, adjusting your skirt sheepishly, knowing that there would be a damp patch at the back but not caring enough to hide it. In a way, you wanted people to know what had happened, and in some ways your wish had come true.

A table in the middle of the pub nearby had half of its eyes on you, whispers and smirks shared amongst one another, watching as Michael grabbed your hand to lead you through the crowd roughly. Wolf whistles and hoot’s were called after you, followed by rambunctious laughter. You weren’t sure if they had seen what was happening under the table, but you were sure they had seen his fingers in your mouth.

The door to the pub was swung open as Michael pulled you out sluggishly behind him. As you stood in the crisp air he spun you abruptly, grabbing your face as he pressed his lips to yours, his tongue immediately swiping against yours, trying to taste your essence that lingered there. Michael groaned into the kiss, pressing his body against you, where finally you could feel how much what had transpired had affected him. He pulled back, restraining himself as his sharp nose bumped into yours as he moved.

And then he was gone, stepping away from you as he began to walk away. You stood dumbfounded as you watched him, snow beginning to fall from the sky.

Do you go after him? Was this it? Did he just use you in the pub only to humiliate you out the front?

A wave of confusion and hurt washed over you, but before it could turn to anger, he stopped and faced you again, a soft smirk on his lips.

“You coming? You said anything.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to any tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! <3

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spacexseven · 11 months

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Imagine waiting months for that one long holiday, finally youre able to go back home to your family...only to be kidnapped by doa on the day of your departure...how unfortunate

yandere content, kidnapping

manga spoilers about doa + kamui's identity. featuring all 5 doa members. there's a 'route' for each character. unedited, and much longer than i expected.

the least they could have done was be a little gentler going about it.

but of course, you had to suffer through being wrapped up into a coat and tossed into a portal like you were simply a bag of flesh and bone. the humiliation of needing someone to help you in your disorientated state once you tumbled out somewhere else and the nonchalant attitude of your kidnappers only made you more angrier.

any escape attempts didn't get you far; though the windows weren't barred, one look outside the huge ones behind sigma's desk told you all you needed to know—you were suspended mid-air, and it didn't help that there were armed guards constantly surveilling the building, and cameras in every corner. (and, you wouldn't admit it, but your kidnappers really frightened you. they were all ability users, and more importantly, all completely insane).

after multiple failed attempts at sneaking out through the door or hiding between customer's bags, threatening a guard to escort you out and even trying to hijack one of the cars, you decide to change up your methods. maybe instead of running away now, you could try and exploit your kidnappers and leave when they're finally trusting of you...?

CHOICE #1: SIGMA

you don't like any of your kidnappers, but the only one you could stand was sigma, who was probably the most 'normal' out of them. though you mostly came to that conclusion because he had yet to threaten you for trying to run, his lack of an offensive ability, too, was a huge factor in it.

and sigma was...kinder, in a way, easier to dissect and play into the arms of. you didn't have to say anything to keep him from using his ability on you, in fact, he confessed to you that he feared his ability would make you trust him less, and so he held back from touching you altogether. despite it being a non-offensive type ability, if he used it on you, he'd have immediately found out about your plans, so it was for the best.

it's not as hard to pretend to like sigma, because you found him sort of endearing. it's not difficult to let out a few chuckles when he comes running over to you with a book about jokes that nikolai was reading, trying to make you laugh with them. it comes almost naturally when you sit beside him into the late hours of the night, watching him do his managerial duties and study his customers, and you almost forget you're supposed to be using him. it's easier than you'd expect to confide in him your fears of fyodor and the jerk who threw you into his coat, admitting to him that you can't bring it in yourself to be around without being filled with a sense of fear. he reciprocates it all greatly, wrapping an arm around you (and by now, you realize, he doesn't even consider using his ability on you anymore. if there's anything he wants to know, mundane things like what you like to eat and how you like your coffee, he just observes you and finds out himself, or asks you) when you're drowning in your own sorrows, teaching you card tricks in his spare time and bringing you presents that he thought you'd like; little snow globes and records that remind him of you, things of that sort.

you have to remind yourself that your kindness is an act and not genuine. after all, this man was part of the group that brought you here to satisfy their own sick desires. sometimes though, you find yourself hoping that sigma wasn't as bad, that he would understand your feelings.

clearly, he doesn't.

"i can't believe you," his voice comes out as a choked whisper, his eyes fixated on your cornered figure, "you were going to leave?!"

sigma's back was to the door, effectively blocking your escape route. he was trembling all over, clearly overwhelmed and crestfallen by everything that had just taken place. you had tried to sneak away while on a shopping trip with sigma, only the second time that you were allowed to go out, but he had caught on pretty quickly, and now you were trapped.

"let me go," you plead, hoping to appeal to his sympathetic side, "please, sigma."

he shakes his head, still glued to the door, "no. i can't. you can't leave me."

"out of everyone else, i hoped you would understand. i thought you knew how i felt, trapped with dostoevsky."

sigma's eyes widen, confusion clear on his face before he exhales sharply and straightens himself out, seemingly deciding on something, "i'm sorry, [name], but i won't let you go. this is the only way i can have you."

"you're so cruel," he whispers, watching your devastated expression, "why did you make me believe you loved me?"

CHOICE #2: KAMUI

the hooded figure of kamui never failed to invoke a sudden sense of eeriness he made an appearance.

he didn't come by very often, but whenever he did, fukuchi always took a moment to come check up on you. at least when he's not donning his mask and cloak, he looks a lot less...frightening. you're not sure if he has anything to do with your kidnapping, because his interest in you rarely went past a curious glance and the occasional, hearty laugh when he comes across you shrieking at nikolai's attempts to drag you away from the open door.

you're not sure to make of him, with his fake public persona and his involvement with the doa, but he isn't as much of a threat to you as the rest, at least not directly. at the very least, when he comes over, nikolai is so much on edge that he doesn't try to torment you as much as he usually does.

fukuchi regards you as something to serve as entertainment; dostoevsky's newest toy, as you hear him say in passing. he watches you like you're something novel, like he hasn't figured you out yet. since he wasn't as involved as the others inside the casino, you thought he would be your best option to try and exploit.

your attempt at getting to know him starts by offering small greetings.

"captain," you say, waving at him as he walks into your room, where sigma is asleep on your shoulder.

he observes the two of you with an oddly soft look in his eyes, a stark contrast to his usual hardened gaze that stays even with a large smile on his face. then, he nods at you before walking away, gently closing the door behind him.

you try to open up around him more, even if it's not through conversing directly with him. even though you know he's watching you from the corner when nikolai is trying to coax you out of your new hiding spot with little treats, you don't shy away as you usually would. you loudly proclaim to nikolai that you'd only come out when fyodor stops being so mean, which is received with a exuberant laugh from the older man. huh, was that all it would take?

and it works, oddly enough—fukuchi starts asking about you, whenever he sees you after that, in between hushed conversations with fyodor, ("and how are you, [name]? is dostoevsky still being mean to you?" you force yourself to ignore fyodor's pointed glare and instead offer a meek smile). he makes more conversation, and you quickly realize he likes your honest comments, even if it was all just criticizing his subordinates. you think he must find you amusing, like a spiteful pet that doesn't give up an opportunity to attack, especially when he places a large hand on your head to stroke your hair, unexpectedly tender despite his ruthless exterior.

"why do you keep trying to run?" he asks you one day, after nikolai had dropped your bound figure back into the room.

you huff, "what do you mean, why? why would anyone want to stay here? any longer and i might go insane."

"oh? that isn't good," he smiles, but it's not the warm ones he gives you. this was...unnerving, "dostoevsky will have no use for you then."

your eyes light up, immediately considering a new plan to have fyodor throw you out himself, but you're interrupted by fukuchi's low chuckle, a dark gleam in his eyes, "worry not! even if he doesn't want you anymore, i'll gladly keep you. if i had known that dostoevsky had picked up such a curious little thing, i would have taken you before he had...well, what do you say?"

CHOICE #3: BRAM

to be honest, you felt for bram.

in a way, he was living just as miserably as you, locked up in a coffin and taken out only when he's needed, and without most of his body. it must be awfully disorientating to be shaken about by the stake through him, and he's always looked so...unhappy.

you're not sure how much help he could be in your plan to escape, except maybe provide emotional support, but who's to say he wasn't a resentful old vampire who wanted you to stay and suffer with him?

you soon learn, through awkward, stilted conversation and silent periods that bram is...not really as angry or scornful as you thought. he is bitter, and extremely uninterested in most things, but as long as you listen to his stories and provide your wholehearted support, he's surprisingly kind to you.

he doesn't even bother trying to offer any hope of escape, though. he tells you that you, like him, should just go to sleep and wait for the others to decide what they'll do with you. he reminds you that there's no escape from a heavily guarded, heavily surveilled casino suspended in the sky, and there's no escape from dostoevsky's cunning words or kamui's wicked plans. you're stuck here, just like him, left to lament the past.

when you suggest him using his ability on you, hoping that by being turned into a vampire under bram's control, he could find a way for you to escape, he looks horrified by the very thought. ("it's too much work for me now," he remarks, looking visibly irked, "to be turning humans. besides, what kind of foolish plan is that? and right after i informed you that i myself am not aware of the casino's layout.")

at least you have a friend here, even if he's constantly discouraging your escape attempts and convincing you to accept your fate. life would be terribly bleak if you were entirely alone.

CHOICE #4: NIKOLAI

out of the five, you hate nikolai the most.

your increased anger towards him stemmed from him being the one to actually kidnap you, as well as his daily attempts to get you to 'open up', which included him dragging you out of your room and annoying you incessantly until your patience snaps, relishing in your furious expressions. the most infuriating part of it all is that nikolai was never put off by your silent rage or your clear disdain, instead finding it all great fun. he thinks your frustrated words and attempts at hiding away should serve as his entertainment. nikolai laughs when you try to run, and he's always the one that whisks you back into the casino, no matter how far you've gotten. he never stops your escapes, though, almost as though he knows you'll end up back here, like he knows he'll catch up with you in the end.

but he's also unpredictable; for as much as he claims to love his job, he also tells you he hates it, and for every word of praise he has for fyodor and sigma, there are just as many potential murder plots. he's near impossible to read, but you think that maybe, he won't kill you unless you start boring him.

so if your escape served as entertainment for him, wouldn't he be more receptive about helping you?

you start off by seeking some civil conversation with him, but it's not working very well. nikolai tends to send any casual conversation spiraling into...odd directions, half of which you can't understand at all. and you almost start to feel like he doesn't want you to get to know him...still, you've got nothing else to lose now, so you keep it up. you entertain his ideas and go along with his pranks (even if it earns you an exhausted glance from sigma and thinly veiled anger from bram), you read the books he reads and watch the things he does at a mostly useless attempt to figure out his angle, and you even put in more effort in your escape plots, just so he doesn't get bored of you. but it's all in vain, however, because nikolai isn't someone you can just figure out. he's someone you're not sure you can even come close to understanding, let alone manipulating.

in the end, you decide the best approach is being forward with him.

"are you really asking me to make a deal for your life?" nikolai throws his head back in laughter, "this is why i like you! i was worried you were starting to lose your spark."

"i suppose we could come to an agreement" you should have known, really, that nothing good was going to come out of this when you caught sight of the malicious grin on his face and the wicked glint in his uncovered eye, "how about a game?"

"a game?" you don't bother hiding the skepticism in your tone.

"it's very simple! i'll give you an hour to leave the casino. all you have to do is step out of the building entrance, and i'll let you free. in fact, i'll even make sure that none of the others come after you after your victory!"

"but if you fail," his grin widens, "then you'll be leaving your fate in my hands."

the vague threat, combined with his unsettling expression fills you with a overwhelming fear. as if noticing this, he laughs. but now that you've put the idea in his head, you're not sure if he'll ever let it go.

"don't worry! either way, i'm sure we'll be having lots of fun!"

CHOICE #5: FYODOR

something was terribly off with the way fyodor looked at you.

despite the gentle smile on his face and the lovely way he said your name, all soft and gentle, there was an oddly distant look in his eyes. he observed you closely and made conversation—revolving around surprisingly mundane questions like have you read this book and what do you think of this movie, and are you familiar with this dish and this composer? and his tone is curious, a charming turn of his lips accompanying his careful probing, making for quite the lovely picture. but there was something meticulously crafted about it, almost like his words were practised and his reactions stilted. there was nothing genuine about the fond smiles or the barely-there touches. you wondered if perhaps, he was waiting for you to do something.

but you have to admit, you'll take the dread creeping over your shoulder over the blatant terror you're faced with when you talk to kamui, or nikolai. apart from his unsettling exterior, fyodor makes for decent company. he's quiet, but not the awkward silence that envelopes you when sigma runs out of things to say, and his questions never feel too invasive. he has a certain charm about him, you think, that makes him somewhat likeable, despite you knowing that he actively plays a part in whatever evil the doa performed.

these days, you spend more time with him. you find that the books he gives you are interesting, although not your usual taste, and that you look forward to seeing what he would lend you next. and the more you're around him, the more curious you get. why was he so...detached from you? why did he feel so disinterested despite being the one to initiate conversation? you try to listen for any indication of interest, and you think you find a trace when sigma tells him about preparations being complete, or when nikolai brings in some papers. later, you hear the same change in tone when you ask him why you've been brought here.

"why?" he smiles at you, and it's as beautiful as it is frightening, "i thought you may be of use to me."

"am i? all i do is sit around and...wait for something to happen."

"patience, [name]. i'm sure you'll figure it out on your own, you're quite smart, aren't you?" though his smile is still on his face, the hint of condescension in his tone doesn't escape you. you don't expect anything else from him, anyway.

one day, after you manage to evade nikolai long enough to sneak off to the lobby of the casino, fyodor stops by your crouched figure in a corner, still upset after nikolai's threats.

the ever present smile is still there, "caught again?"

you sigh, and look away.

then, he leans in closer, until his cold lips brush against the tip of your ear, "you might want to try the staff exit next time, or explore for other exits. there are many ways to come in and out the casino." you shiver, but his words spark a new flame of resolve in you. you've never seen fyodor come in through the main entrance, and he leaves quite often. if you insisted on seeing him out next time, you might have a better chance at escaping...

he doesn't look the slightest bit surprised when you walk with him as he's leaving a few days after, only glancing at you as he slipped on his coat. sigma frowns at you from the corner of the room, but noticing fyodor beside you, he goes back to his papers immediately. it must be nice having such an effect on people.

he's silent throughout most the walk, but right before he leaves through a door you've never noticed before, fyodor spares a few words to you.

"stay back a while and explore the building. not too long—someone will worry—but you should be able to find something helpful."

how strange it is that you found an ally in fyodor, out of everyone else. a part of you is convinced he must be playing a cruel trick on you, but you're willing to take any chances that you can find. when you're back for breakfast, you're grinning to yourself as you recount the two exists you've found, one hidden below a winding staircase, and the other at the opposite side of where the five gather with you. both representing hope that you can make it out.

both ways were failures. nikolai's grip around your wrists is painful as he guides you back to your room, goading you by belittling your attempts. fyodor is already waiting there, skimming through your current read, lingering on the pages where you've scribbled down your thoughts (the idea courtesy of fyodor). he puts down the book to look at you as you're embarrassingly being ushered back to your cell. at least nikolai leaves after sharing a few words with the other man—the humiliation of him having to hear how you'd been mislead would have been too much to bear.

your weak glare does nothing to perturb him, "you knew it wouldn't work, right?"

"nikolai is very determined when it concerns keeping you," he says, "perhaps you underestimated him."

"i thought you were going to help me leave," you groan, "i'm so stupid."

"now, my dear," fyodor's amused smile sends shivers down your spine, "why would i ever do that? were you not aware that it was me who asked for nikolai to bring you here?"

"but you told me about the other exists—"

"only to keep you busy," he interrupts, "so you wouldn't do something rash in a desperate attempt to leave."

"i thought you didn't want me...like how they do." because fyodor has never shown interest in you, not like nikolai's constant need to be around you, or sigma's shy way of sitting next to you when he's off work, but perhaps it meant something different, because it was him.

"no," he says, "i don't need to want you like they do, because you are already mine," he leans in closer, a hand on your cheek, "you are mine before you are any of theirs, and you'll do well not to forget that."

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year

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Hi I have a request I’d like to make ^_^

Can you write something where Aemond is a bit shy when he cums, so he’s always burying his face against her neck, but this time reader really wants to see his expressions when he climaxes so she’s on top for the first time. He’s a little taken aback but he can’t deny the view is great. When he almost gets to climaxing he’s like “w-wait! I’m close..!” And she just grabs his jaw, making forced eye contact and proceeds to ride him even harder until he cums.

I LOVE it when people reach out off of anon. Very brave. Much courage.

ANYWAY, your wish is my command. Pls enjoy.

Warnings: As if this needs any. You know there will be smut. NSFW. 18+ Word count: ~1k

Aemond had always been a generous and attentive lover. Despite not having much in the way of sexual experience prior to your marriage, he was a perfectionist and eager to learn. He had spent hours poring over every tome that the Red Keep’s library had to offer on the act of pleasure, and plentiful practice had meant there was never a day that you were left wanting physically.

It had taken a while to convince him to remove his eyepatch in front of you. His claim of “I have no desire to frighten you, my love.” had made your heart ache. He was clearly self conscious of his disfigurement, but you were desperate to see all of him. The night that he had finally relented and allowed you to lift it from his face had been a tender moment for you both. You had pressed gentle kisses to his scar and reassured him that you loved all of him, he didn’t need to hide any parts of himself from you.

Despite this, one of those frustrating factors for you in your marriage to the One-Eyed Prince was that during the act of love he would always hide his face from you at the point of climax. Either by burying his face in the crook of your neck if you lay below him or throwing his head back if he took you from behind. You knew it was fuelled by his insecurity regarding his eye and it bothered you that there was still an element of discomfort for him in your relationship. You were determined to fix it.

You’d tried to outsmart him one morning, sliding down the bed to take him into your mouth, watching his face carefully as you’d bobbed your head back and forth along his thick length. However, as he’d reached the apex of his pleasure, he’d turned his head away into the pillows, leaving you with a mouthful of his spend and an overbearing sense of exasperation.

A week later the two of you lay together in your marital bed, each of you on your side, facing each other. The ever increasing passion of your kisses and the way Aemond’s hands roam the curves of your body make it explicitly clear where things are headed. An idea strikes you.

Hooking a leg over Aemond’s hip, you roll him onto his back, sitting astride his hips.

A slight raise of his eyebrow, that would have been imperceptible to anyone else, lets you know that your actions have shocked your husband and you grin down at him.

“What are you doing, dōna ābrazȳrys?” He asks curiously. Sweet wife.

“Just trying something different, my dragon.” You purr back.

His right eye watches with keen interest as you reach between your bodies, positioning his hardened cock at your entrance before sinking down slowly.

You gasp at the stretch of him and the unexplored depth and angle. This is a new position for both of you, but it is not an unwelcome sensation. From the sharp inhale through his nose that Aemond takes as he grits his teeth, you can tell that he’s enjoying it too.

Gingerly, you begin to grind your hips back and forth against his. Unsure of what you are doing, your lack of experience causes you to hesitate, so you are grateful when Aemond grasps your hips and helps your movements along as he thrusts up into you.

His right eye drinks in the sight of you appreciatively as you ride him. From the contorted expression of pleasure on your face, to the bounce of your breasts and the roll of your hips against his. “Vok.” He whispers, as you move above him. Perfect.

His praise instills you with renewed confidence and you move your hips faster, harder, until Aemond’s grip on you tightens, his breathing becoming ragged. The familiar tensing of his abdominal muscles and pulsating of him inside of you are all you need to feel to know he is close to his end. You smirk down at him.

Panic washes over his features as he attempts to turn his face away. “No, no, I’m close!” He groans.

“I know.” You breathe out, taking his chin between your thumb and forefinger to turn him back towards you. “I will look upon your face as you fill me.”

You continue to ride Aemond. The beginnings of his protestations die on his lips as his release takes hold. Your lips part, eyes wide with both wonder and enjoyment as you take in the sight of his pleasure drunk features as he pumps you full of his seed.

His brow is furrowed. The blue iris of his right eye is no longer visible from the dilation of his pupil. The bridge of his nose is scrunched ever so slightly, distorting the positioning of the scar that runs along the left side of his face. His mouth hangs agape as an almost feral sounding grunt escapes him.

You have never seen anything quite so beautiful as your husband in the throes of ecstasy. You cannot quite believe that this is what he has been hiding from you all this time. Your own pleasure is long forgotten to you as you gaze adoringly down at him.

Suddenly he pushes you off of him with a force that causes you to collapse onto your own side of the bed.

“I’m sorry you saw that.” He mutters, turning away from you, clearly distressed.

You reach out a tentative hand, stroking his shoulder. “Aemond, we’ve spoken about this…”

He sighs. “I know, ñuha jorrāelagon, but it is one thing for you to flatter me during idle conversation. It is another entirely for my disfigurement to rob you of your pleasure.” My love.

You pull him gently onto his back, looking down at him with concern. “What do you mean?”

“You saw my face when I…when I- and you didn’t peak.”

Your features soften as you chuckle slightly. “Aemond, you were so breathtaking to me in that moment, that I quite forgot that that was the intention.”

Aemond eyes you suspiciously. “Really?”

You nod. “Aemond, my words to you are not just flattery. I mean it when I say I think you are perfect. Please never hide your face from me again.”

He appears to consider this for a moment before speaking. “Okay, dōna ābrazȳrys. But you must allow me one exception.”

“And what is that?”

Aemond smirks wickedly at you as he lowers himself on the bed. “My face will be hidden when it is between your thighs. No wife of mine will go to sleep unsatisfied.”

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writeonwhiskey · 3 months

Text

the skz house: ch 7 [NEW] 18+

a/n: PLEASE READ TO AVOID CONFUSION! i have chosen to push back the Halloween party (previously chapter 7), to chapter 9. i needed a few more interactions to take place to really hold up the events that happen. this is the NEW chapter 7, and next chapter will also be before the Halloween party, then we will be back on track.

THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU to @yonaofyourmom for agreeing to be an editor for me. i cannot thank you enough for your help! and thank you to my Shmeems for proofreading as well!

Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Bang Chan.

[ read chapter six here ]

Chapter Seven: Of Watching and Submitting

As scheduled, you’re with Chan again on Monday, bright and early, riding to campus together. You’ve made more of an effort to remain cordial with him. Which consists of constantly reminding yourself to not take his behavior towards you personally. You agreed to please him without expecting anything but a roof over your head in return. You can’t assume he will treat you a certain way just because Hyunjin does. They’re different men with different needs. Hyunjin has adapted, in nearly every way, to accommodate for what you need emotionally. Not to say that he’s uninterested in anything physical, but it’s not a driving factor in your budding connection. Chan on the other hand…

The other day in the hot tub, for example. You have not been able to rid yourself of the polarizing emotions you felt. Chan created an onslaught of sexual tension as his hand fiddled between your legs while you simultaneously felt safe and comfortable sitting in Hyunjin’s lap as he kissed your neck. It was fitting and symbolic of your separate relationships with them. The incident has been added to the list of things you’re certain have happened, but Chan doesn’t acknowledge.

Aside from needing a place to live for the year, your desire for sexual exploration is another reason you didn’t get up off the couch and walk out on interview day with the other girls. Though a threesome had not been on your bingo card, it now consumes your thoughts every time you’re in the same vicinity with both of them.

“I’ll wait for you after class,” Chan says as he parks the car.

“For two hours?” you ask. “I’ll just ride back with Seungmin.”

He shuts off the car and turns to look at you.

“You don’t want to be around me or something?”

He doesn’t sound genuinely concerned with the question, or your answer for that matter. He knows you want to be around him, even if it’s just for one thing. But that’s how he wants it, right?

You purse your lips.

“I’m currently undecided on that,” you reply with a shrug, hoping it comes off nonchalant.

“Hm.”

The car is quiet as you both stare at each other. You can practically see when a thought has crossed his mind by the look in his eyes. You expect some sort of retort, but instead he reaches for the door handle.

“I’ll see you at home then.”

He opens the door and exits the car before you get a chance to respond. You mumble an expletive to yourself as you get out and consider dodging him at home to prove your point. But you’re with him for the next three days and, well, you have the safety of your ass to think about after all.

____________

When you make it back to the house with Seungmin, everyone is home already. You go upstairs to put your backpack away and as soon as you enter Chan’s room, you see a black gift bag sitting on your bed. It’s a surprise that makes your silly heart flutter. You are suspicious, though. What reason did he have to get you anything? You open the bag and take out the card that’s inside first.

Since you don’t want to be near me.

Charge it.

You set the card aside and take out the rectangular box. The words ‘Magic Wand’ are written across it, followed by ‘For Her Pleasure’. You open the box to reveal a black vibrator and charging cord. You take the vibrator out of the box to inspect it. Of course, if he was going to get you anything it would be a sex toy. Your first thought is that Chan took your words to heart—was he not going to touch you anymore? No…that couldn’t be it. There was still so much of the school year left with you at his disposal.

You plug in the chord and leave it on the nightstand next to your bed to charge.

Downstairs, you help Allie start dinner and Changbin says he’s going to help too, but really just ends up loitering in the kitchen to sample everything as you cook. When it’s time to eat, Chan sits at the head of the table and you take a seat somewhere in the middle. You spend most of the meal looking anywhere but him, not wanting to lock eyes with him and be forced to contemplate what’s awaiting you in his room tonight.

Chan announces that renovations on the den will start next week—it’s being turned into an office space to provide the current and future assignees a dedicated place to do their homework. He also brings up the chapter project again. It’s something the members of SKZ complete each year to showcase and summarize their experiences throughout the year.

You think back to how passive he was during the Halloween party discussion, and right now he appears the opposite. He was appointed chapter president for a reason, you can see that now. There’s something about the way he addresses everyone that lets even Lee Know and Seungmin—the two that stay ready with smart ass responses to everything—know now is not the time or place.

Later, after your shower, you return to Chan’s room. He’s in his bathroom, brushing his teeth in nothing but his boxers. You sit on your bed, facing him with your hands in your lap. What would he do if you just crawled beneath the covers to avoid whatever he has in store for you?

No, you wouldn’t do that. You want to know why he purchased that particular item.

The light to the bathroom shuts off and Chan walks over to his desk, just in front of your bed. The light on his ceiling fan is on, illuminating the room.

“Did you charge it?” He asks.

You look to your nightstand where the vibrator is still plugged in.

“Yes,” you answer. “You want to use it on me?”

A mischievous smile plays on his lips.

“Stand up,” he commands. And you do. “Take off your clothes.”

You lift your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside. When you reach for your bottoms, he tells you to stop. You pause, thumbs hooked in the waistband of your pajamas. He picks up the chair from his desk and places it on the side of your bed. He sits, one leg bent, the other extended out in front of him. He cocks his head to the side before speaking.

“Face your bed, then pull them down.”

You turn around and bend over your bed. You pull down your pajama shorts and underwear together, feeling his eyes on you as you expose yourself. You kick them to the side and start to turn around to face him, but he stops you once again.

“Up on your bed,” he says. “Get on all fours.”

You blink at his instructions, but continue to do as you’re told. His dominance is effortless when he wants it to be. Whether he’s with you, or acting as chapter president for the fraternity. His voice is deep and stern when he speaks, leaving no room for a rebuttal–just acceptance.

He stands from the chair and unplugs the vibrator from the charger.

“I wanna watch you use it on yourself.”

“Chan,” you say, getting into position. “Where do you come up with these things?”

You couldn’t help but ask. From the moment you gave that sarcastic ass answer in the car this morning, he must have started thinking of what he would do to you tonight. He went so far as to buy a vibrator and with you on your bed like this, the chair he brought over…had he been thinking of this all day? Having you on all fours in front of him? You like the thought of that, don’t you?

He shrugs, “My imagination is limitless when it comes to things I want to do with you, y/n.”

“Why me?”

“You’re a naturally submissive person.” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

He holds the vibrator out to you. You shake your head, but he nods his. He wags it in front of you until you take it from him.

“See?”

While submissive is not the adjective you would have chosen to describe yourself, you can see why he could come to that conclusion. You’re gentle, compassionate and value harmony and cooperation above all else. You want all things in your life to flow smoothly, even if that means bending (literally) to someone else’s will. Chan must have spotted that attribute in you a mile away and chosen to exploit it for his pleasure.

“I don’t even know how to work this.”

He reaches forward and covers your hand with his on the vibrator, guiding your fingers to the power button. You press it and the sound of it buzzing to life fills the room. He guides your hand down between your legs before letting go, wanting you to do the rest.

You had hardly ever masturbated, let alone done it in front of someone else. You know there’s no use in protesting or saying you’re nervous or shy—he’ll have you do it regardless. He sits back down on the chair, ready for his show.

You grip the handle tightly and press it against you, jerking at the initial contact. You slide it up and down your slit, trying to focus on the feeling rather than the fact that Chan is staring at you so close and so intently.

“Find your clit,” he instructs.

You move it back up until it’s settled right against your clit, but instantly pull it away due to the intensity. You take a deep breath and try to clear your thoughts. It feels like an awkward attempt at putting on a sexy show you didn’t sign up for. You press the vibrator to your clit again and close your eyes.

You think back to the night Chan had you bent over his legs on this very same bed. You think of the way he spanked you, the way he caressed you. You hold yourself steady with one hand as your hips begin to circle against the vibrator. You allow your mind to replay the better parts of that night—sitting on his face, looking down at him, the feeling of power it gave you.

You spread your knees apart further, lowering yourself on the bed. You hear him shift behind you. You peek over your shoulder to see Chan rest his elbows on his knees, leaning forward a little more. A whimper escapes from your mouth as your hips pick up the pace, grinding against the vibrator held between your legs.

“Does that feel good?” He asks.

“Yes,” you reply immediately.

“So you like your present?” You nod and let your head hang between your shoulders. “What do you say?”

“Thank you,” you moan.

You want to turn around, to watch him as he watches you. You stay as he instructed, though, arching your back to poke your ass higher in the air and press the vibrator even harder against your clit.

“Chan…come…come here,” you plead, feeling that even the short distance between you is too great.

He leans forward more, his face getting closer to your pussy. You want his mouth on you, or his cock in you. You won’t be picky. You slide back on the bed, trying to get closer to him, letting him know you want him.

“You’re undecided,” he teases, reaching a hand out to hover above your ass. The heat radiating off of him is enough to make it feel like he’s actually touching you.

“No,” you recant.

“No?”

His hand palms your ass, gripping it. You moan at his touch, moving back even more towards him. His finger slip between the crack of your ass, down to your opening. Your back curls towards him. He slides his fingers up and down your slit smearing your wetness all around.

Just as his fingers reach your center and you naively think he’s going to enter you, he instead reaches for the vibrator between your legs—snatching it from you. The room falls silent when he powers it off, save for your heavy breathing. You feel the vibrator land on the bed next to you.

Your head hangs between your shoulders again…you should have known better. When will you learn?

“I don’t like this, Chan,” you breathe.

“Because you’re resisting,” he says. He smacks your ass. “Turn around, and sit down.”

You turn around so you’re facing him and sit down, legs open, leaning back on the bed.

“Do you trust me?” His gaze is focused on your glistening pussy but he raises them to look you directly in the eyes.

“To an extent…” you answer honestly.

He reaches for both of your pillows and hands them to you. You prop them up behind you and lean back on them. He picks up the vibrator and hands it to you once again. You graciously accept it this time, quickly turning it on and placing it back against your clit. You’re thankful you’re able to see his face.

“I want you,” he says, leaning back in the chair and stroking himself over his boxers. “ready and willing to give yourself to me whenever the fuck I say so.”

You whimper at his words.

“I don’t care where we are, what day it is, or who’s room you're sleeping in for the night.”

He extends his arm forward and pushes his first three fingers inside of you.

“I make you feel good, don’t I?” His tone is soft, but his eyes are hardened.

“Yes,” you answer weakly, unable to deny it.

“I wanna please you, y/n. In so many ways.”

You bite your lip, watching the way his eyes roam over your body–your pussy, your tits, your face–taking all of you in as his fingers slowly move in and out of you. It feels like so much more than just him watching you get yourself off, though. This act of solo play is giving him some kind of pleasure as well. His other hand is still stroking his cock over his boxers. It seems like some kind of exercise in self-restraint for him too.

As you start to move your other hand to your breasts, his eyes dart to your hand and you freeze.

“May I?” You ask.

Your question sets something alight in him. He licks his lips and nods so you proceed, cupping your breast in your hand. You pinch your nipple while moving your hips against his fingers and sliding the vibrator back and forth across your clit.

At the sound of your moan, his hands spring to action. He withdraws his fingers from you to pull down his boxers. He grips his cock and you let out a soft grunt at the sight. You still want to feel it inside of you.

“I wish you could see how good you look right now–you’re fucking dripping,” he says, extending his hand again to rub his fingers in your slick.

You spread your legs apart even further. You want him to have the best view after all.

He groans at your movements. He brings the hand on his cock to his mouth, spitting on it before stroking himself.

Your back arches. Your toes start to curl. Watching him rub his cock as he looks at you, his fingers inside of you, the vibrator…it’s all starting to make you come undone. But you haven’t forgotten your lessons.

“Chan…I want to come,” you announce.

He’s quiet. Contemplative. He withdraws his fingers from you once again and sits back in the chair.

“Turn it off,” he tells you.

You hesitate, breathing heavily as you weigh the outcome of potential disobedience in the fraction of a second. You’re right on the edge–it would be so easy. It would feel so good.

You let out a saddened sigh, pressing the power button on the vibrator.

“You’ll always listen to me, that’s why I chose you…that’s why you’re mine.” He says in the deafening silence of the room. “But will you let me be fully in control?”

His hand continues to slowly stroke his cock as he speaks to you.

“You already are…clearly,” you say, feeling jaded as the feeling of an orgasm dissipates.

He holds his hand out to you. You scoot to the edge of the bed and stand, placing your hand in his. He brings you to him, pressing his knees together so you’re forced to stand, straddled above them.

“But it’s better if you want it, too.”

He grabs you by the back of your thighs, making you move forward until your tits are right in front of his face. He looks up at you from in between them. The sight is exhilarating.

He holds his cock steady while the other hand still gripping your thigh guides you down. You step your legs further apart to accommodate. He positions himself at your opening and allows you to slowly lower yourself until he’s fully inside of you. You let out a low breath. His hands rest on your hips as you move slowly up and down on his dick.

“It doesn’t have to be this way. I can be tame. We can just fuck,” he says.

You can’t think straight. Not with him inside you.

As if sensing this, his fingers dig into your hips to still you. You clasp your hands behind his neck.

Do you want this? Most facets of your life thrive on routine and you being the one in control, always knowing what to expect. If you say no…what becomes of your year at SKZ House with Chan? Will you lose out on getting to know him? Right now, your sexual connection is all that you have. Is it more meaningful to explore this side of him than nothing at all?

Your hips start to rock against him as you nod your head, rubbing at the hairs on the nape of his neck.

He tilts his head back and closes his eyes, groaning at your acceptance.

“Say it.”

Say what? His nails dig into your skin, pulling you forward and pushing you back. He grunts each time he’s fully inside of you. He maneuvers your weight on him with ease, muscles flexed, face in place of bliss.

“Say it,” he growls, eyes snapping open to stare daggers at you when you’ve remained silent for too long.

“I want…” you begin, leaning back to allow a better angle as you grind your pussy onto his cock. “I want to submit to you.”

Your words garner an immediate reaction. He sucks in a breath, sitting up and forcing you to do the same. As soon as you’re upright, his mouth is on your tits. Kissing, bitting, swirling his tongue around each nipple in turn.

“Only me, yeah?” He asks, biting down on your nipple.

“Yes,” you pant.

You plant your feet firmly on the floor to allow yourself more control in your movements, bouncing on him as the feeling of an orgasm relentlessly sweeps through you.

“Come for me,” he says, squeezing your tits in his hands as you toss your head back.

You alternate between bouncing and grinding against him until your orgasm rolls through you. You’re loud, but you don’t care and neither does he. Your legs start to shake, but Chan takes over lifting you up and down, a sloshing sound filling the air as he continues thrusting into your wet pussy.

You need a respite. You place your hands on his chest and stand up, legs feeling like a newborn fawn trying to walk for the first time. You slip down to your knees in front of him before he has a chance to protest.

“May I?” You can still feel your pussy throbbing, thighs wet from your come.

He nods his approval and stands up.

The second you take him in your mouth, his hands are in your hair, guiding you back and forth as he grunts and groans. You use both hands in conjunction with your mouth. The taste of yourself on him encourages you to move faster, to be sloppier. And he fucking loves it. He grips onto your hair as he thrusts his hips forward. You remove your hands and let him fuck your face. You brace yourself, ready for him to fill your mouth again.

He pulls his cock out but continues stroking it vigorously.

“Lean back,” he says.

You lean back, resting your head against the edge of the bed just as he aims his dick directly at your chest and comes.

“Fuck,” he grunts.

The first spurt lands near your neck. It startles you, but you don’t flinch. You maintain eye contact with Chan as he marks his newly acquired territory.

“You look so fucking good,” he moans, still stroking, still spilling onto you.

And with the look in his eyes, you feel like it.

When he releases the last drop, he lowers himself to his knees, breathing heavily. He watches for a moment, as his come slowly drips down your torso. He reaches a finger out, wiping up a splatter that’s dripped from your neck to your nipple. He hooks that same finger inside of your mouth and you swirl your tongue around it. He quickly takes his finger out and replaces it with his tongue. The kiss is slow and calm, but heated, as you share in the taste of each other. He bites your bottom lip as he pulls away, exhaling a deep breath.

He stands and pulls his boxers back up. You enjoy him from your vantage point, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his toned abs, the look of pure delight on his face. You caused that. A smile forms on his lips and it’s the biggest reward he could have given you. He adds in a wink and you think you might melt into a puddle of goo.

He jerks his head towards the bathroom.

“Clean up in there,” he says.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and turns to walk towards the door. He stops before opening it, adjusting himself in his boxers, then exits the room. The lack of his presence is immediately felt, but your feeling of abandonment at his departure is significantly less than previous nights.

You slowly stand up, feeling euphoric, dizzy and dirty. You walk to the bathroom, turn on the lights and then start the shower. You return to his mirror as the water warms up, looking at yourself. You’re covered in Chan. The girl in your reflection certainly is you, but given the events that just occurred you can’t understand why there’s a coy smile on your face. Have you no shame?

[ read chapter eight here ]

a/n: 😅 that needed to happen before what's to come. hope you all understand the need for the switch up and its not too jarring. thank you all for continuing to read, like, comment, and reblog. it makes me so dedicated to providing a good, well-rounded story for you!

taglist: @iflmho / @skzstaykatsy / @blackhairandbangs / @ayoitschannie / @idunnomanmynamewastaken / @charmer-c / @ihatemen55 / @channiesprincess / @channniesslefttt / @jiwoos-babygirl / @krayzieestay / @kayleefriedchicken / @sunnyhonie / @cotton-candycloudz / @lubsungie / @conwunder / @puckmaidens / @ashleighland / @hyunjiinnnn / @bmnyy / @ihrtlix / @maqqiekwon / @hynxnelly / @teti-menchon0604 / @you-make-skz-stay / @zandra-42 / @seungminindabuilding / @slytherinatheart / @loveuwoo

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfic #bangchan fanfic #stray kids #bang chan #skz smut #bang chan smut #bang chan imagines #bangchan smut #bangchan x y/n #bangchan x reader

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xzaddyzanakinx · 3 months

Text

Cottage in the Woods

Stepbro!Anakin Skywalker x Female reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: sexual content, PiV (unprotected), oral, alcohol (no one is drunk), stepcest

Info: Established relationship, mechanic Anakin, college student reader, Anakin does have his mechnahand but it’s not actually mentioned

Anakin stirred awake slowly, his eyes still half-closed as he snuggled closer to you. His hand gently massaged your lower back, and a small smirk formed on his lips.

"Morning, Darlin’." He murmured, his voice deepening with sleepiness. "How's my favorite little princess feelin'?"

He yawned widely, exposing his perfect white teeth before sitting up straight, pulling the covers over both of you.

“M’feeling perfect,” You said as you breathed out happily.

Anakin chuckled, reaching over to grab his phone from the nightstand. He checked the clock before looking back at you.

"Well, we've got plenty of time to make sure you stay that way." He stood up, stretching his arms above his head, showing off his toned abs and muscular arms.

"Get dressed, dollface, it's Saturday morning, and I swear I'm takin' you somewhere special today."

He made a show of rummaging through his clothes on the floor, finding his favorite pair of jeans and a baggy T-shirt, which he threw carelessly over his head.

“You’re taking me somewhere?” You asked, immediately perking you up from your formerly subdued state.

Anakin nodded, grabbing his shoes from the floor and putting them on. "Yeah, you deserve a little treat don’t you think?"

"Get dressed, I'll be back in a sec," he said, heading towards the bathroom.

As he left, Anakin's steps were lighter than usual, almost bouncy, as if he couldn't wait to surprise you.

You changed quickly. Putting on baggy jeans and a black crop top with the oversized black zip-up jacket stolen from Anakin ages ago. You were pulling on sneakers just as Anakin returned from the bathroom.

His tousled hair wet and messy. He wore a pair of black jeans that accentuated his toned legs and a plain black T-shirt that clung to his muscular torso.

"You look fuckin' adorable," he complimented, walking over to you and running his fingers through your hair before kissing your forehead lightly. "Let's go."

He held out his hand for you to take, and together, you left your room, heads bent in conversation as you made your way downstairs.

Anakin chuckled softly, opening the passenger door of his car for you before climbing into the driver's seat. Slamming the door shut behind him, he started the engine and pulled out of the driveway.

"Well," he began, turning the corner onto their sleepy suburban street. "We're heading about an hour away from here."

His eyes lit up with excitement as he glanced sideways at you, waiting for your reaction.

“An hour away?” You asked confusedly, wondering what the hell he had planned.

Anakin grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Just trust me, alright? It'll be worth the drive."

You sighed, teasingly pretending to be disappointed.

As they drove, he began to hum a familiar tune, and you noticed the car's air freshener had changed from its usual generic scent to the sweet fragrance of lavender.

You spent the rest of the drive smushed against the center console to hold his hand and feel his warmth. Playing music low with the intent of just having background noise while you talked and caught up on things.

Anakin's hand squeezed yours back, returning the comfort with equal intensity. "Sweet girl," he whispered, his voice low and sincere.

"So, how was work yesterday?" He changed the subject, hoping to distract himself from the growing anticipation and an anxiety building inside him with each mile marker that passed.

“The worst.” You sighed. “I would rather sprint up Mount Everest than serve that large of a party again.”

You told him the drama and tidbits of conversation picked up from that large group of 25 people. The gossip was the only redeeming factor of waitressing that large of a group. It was hell while you worked it with one other waitress, but damn what an interesting conversation you had with her by the dumpster when you both took a smoke break later that night.

Anakin chuckled, his eyes never leaving the road. "That's what you signed up for, ain't it?" He teased, reaching over to give your leg a light squeeze.

“Just cause I signed up for it, doesn’t mean I can’t whine and complain about it occasionally.” You teasingly pouted, but shook your head and kissed his cheek in agreement after he made a quick redemptive comment about your shared luck in having each other to confide in.

"So, how's my little bookworm doing? Everything alright in school darlin’, any trouble with your classes?"

You shared some interesting highlights of the past week’s classes and lectures. Watching Anakin’s facial expressions while you spoke was just as entertaining as the stories you were telling him. The animated way he responded to practically everything you said was heart warming; he gave you that ‘only girl in the world’ feeling that you only ever heard of in books.

As he drove, the landscape outside changed from suburban neighborhoods to rolling hills dotted with trees and colorful wildflowers, signaling your departure from the city limits.

“What about you Ani?” You asked, turning in your seat alittle while you held his large hand in your two smaller ones, tracing his knuckles with your thumbs.

“How’s everything at the mechanic’s shop?” You continued. “are you still thinking about applying for that supervisor’s position?”

You were of course referring to his job as a mechanic, he’d used his two year degree in engineering to get him started in his career. His ultimate goal being owning a garage of his own someday.

Anakin smiled, his eyes twinkling with pride. "Well, I got offered the supervisor's position actually."

"I accepted," he added quickly, as if anticipating your reaction. "It starts next month. More responsibility, more money, and more freedom to do what I love most—fixing cars."

He glanced at you briefly before returning his focus back on the road. The sun was beginning to rise higher in the sky, casting warm rays through the windshield that danced across his features, highlighting his natural beauty.

“No way really?” You squealed out of excitement for him, dropping his hand to clap almost involuntarily. “oh Ani! I’m so proud of you!”

You picked up his hand again and laced your fingers with his, leaning across the console to lovingly place a hot, wet kiss on the softness of his neck.

Anakin's hand tightened around yours, squeezing gently in response to your excitement. "Thanks, dollface," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

"You know you're the reason I even accepted it, right?" He teased, reaching over to ruffle your hair playfully. "Without you, I wouldn't have found the motivation."

As he drove further into the countryside, dense forests stretched as far as the eye could see. Finally, your destination came into view—a small cottage nestled amongst the trees, surrounded by a tranquil lake and lush greenery.

“Ani you’re so sappy.” You teased, secretly extremely pleased that he would admit such a vulnerable thing.

“What are we doing here?” You asked in confusion. “it’s so pretty…” Your words trailed off.

Anakin parked the car and turned off the engine, grabbing your bag from the back seat.

"Patience, my love," he said, his voice laced with excitement. Opening the door, he helped you out of the car and led you towards the front door.

"Just wait til you see inside," he teased, unlocking the heavy wooden door and ushering you in.

Inside was a cozy interior, filled with vintage furniture and decorations. A fireplace sat unlit in the living area, but you could just picture it casting warm light across the hardwood floors and exposed wooden beams.

You looked up, seeing a loft with a beautiful iron spiral staircase leading up to it. You assumed that it was a bedroom or perhaps a small lounge room.

“Aw it’s so cute…” You said, doing a slow 360 to really take in your surroundings.

“Are you gonna tell me what we’re doing here now?” You turned to ask Anakin, tucking yourself against his chest as he chuckled.

Anakin wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. "I thought we deserved a little something—just us," he said, revealing a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"We'll explore the place later, but for now, I have something else planned."

With that cryptic statement, he led you to the living area, where the coffee table was set up with a bottle of champagne chilling on ice and two beautiful 70’s style crystal wine glasses. There was a small wooden box beside it the spread, adorned with a bow.

“What’s this?” You asked, head on a swivel as you looked curiously over at Anakin and back at the box. He pulled you down onto the couch with him, a rumble of amusement coming from his chest. Before he poured you both a glass of champagne.

He reached over to gently caress your cheek, his thumb tracing slow circles on your cheekbone. Watching how your eyes looked over that small box, how your fingers twitched with the impatient need to open it up. He knew you were horrible with waiting, he knew it was practically torture for you. His next statement only further confirmed that for you.

"Open it when we're finished with our drinks, alright?" he requested, raising his glass in to his lips.

You grinned at having been caught ogling over that tiny surprise. You cleared your throat before taking a sip of the bubbly drink. It was light and crisp, perfect for the setting.

You chatted, talking about how quaint the cottage was. He told you about the lake you’d seen as you drove in, how it was only a short walk away. How he wanted to take advantage of the secluded area to go skinny dip that night.

“It’s been a real long time since we’ve done that.” You giggled, remembering the last time you’d went skinny dipping. That was the night you’d shared your first acts of intimacy beyond making out with each other.

Anakin laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I know, I know," he teased, taking another sip of his champagne. "But this time, we'll make it special. I’ll get to take my time with you."

He said, remembering how rushed he’d been. How terrified of getting caught you were. How you both giggled and couldn’t stop smiling. How you blushed anytime you saw him for the next week after… and how that was the night that officially sealed your fate. After that, things were never the same again; you crossed a line that couldn’t be erased, and neither of you cared in the slightest. You were just happy you’d finally admitted the love you shared for each other.

You teased each other, joking around and bantering like it was second nature. It practically was, you’d always been attached at the hip and it only got more intense after deciding to say ‘fuck it’ and reject the title of step-siblings and mold yourselves into something romantic, into a real relationship.

Occasionally you’d glance at the small present box, fingers twitching in anticipation. Your impatience was getting the best of you and Anakin knew it.

“Anakin please!” You complained. “you’re killin’ me. I gotta know what’s in there.”

Anakin chuckled, setting his glass down and taking yours from your hands as well.

"Alright, alright," he conceded, standing up to retrieve the box. "But remember your manners, princess."

He leaned toward the table, then placed the box in your palm. Smiling as he saw you testing the weight of the box.

"Go ahead, open it slowly, alright?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was just a little tease of his. Finally, you reached out tentatively, steady hands brushing against the loose bow on the box. As you carefully opened it, a wave of anxiety hit your chest.

“Anakin… w-what?” You asked in confusion. “A key?”

You looked up at him, taking in his wide grin and devilish glint in his icey blue eyes.

“Wait… wait no way Ani.” You gasped standing up. “is this? Did you? Is this place ours?” You asked with your voice cracking in surprise as emotion squeezed at your throat.

Anakin nodded, standing up and wrapping his arms around you. His breath was warm against your ear as he whispered.

"Yeah, baby girl, it's ours. I’ve had this place in the works for a while. I got it ready as soon as I could."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with gratitude and love. "I want us to start fresh, just the two of us. No more pretending, no more secrets. From now on, we're together for real."

He leaned in closer, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. When you finally broke apart, there was a newfound depth in his gaze, a vulnerability that matched yours.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that… I know our love needs space to grow without the constant pressure of keeping things hidden for the sake of others. I can’t hide you anymore.” He said with a shaky breath.

Anakin's eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of doubt or hesitation. His hands gripped your waist tightly, holding you close as he spoke.

“The dates where I can’t hold your hand or kiss you even though you look so pretty, so beautiful, so kissable, so deserving of proper attention; it’s torture. Having you so close but not being able to give you the love and affection you deserve, it’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to me.” He cupped your face in his hands, his eyes held an intense piercing gaze into your own.

He leaned in again, his lips brushing against yours in another passionate kiss, one filled with need and desire. When they finally broke apart, he pulled away just enough to look into your eyes.

"I know marriage isn’t an option for us. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be together." he murmured, running his fingers through your hair. "Just us. No more lies, no more secrets. Just us living our lives together, just like we always wanted."

"I love you," he said softly, his voice softer, smooth with honeyed promises. "I don’t need a stupid piece of paper to prove that, not when I can prove it to you everyday on my own."

“Here, we’re away from everything. An hour from our hometown, close enough to go be with friends and family but far enough that we won’t have to hide. You’re closer to your college now, it’s only 40 minutes to the garage for me. It’s perfect.” He concluded his little speech with a tug at your waist to bring you closer so that he could bury his face in your neck and breathe in the scent of you.

“Anakin…” You sniffled, tears cascading down your flushed cheeks. “I love you. I love you, yes. I- I want this. More than anything.”

Anakin's heart skipped a beat as he felt your body tremble against his, your words hitting him like a ton of bricks. He pulled away slightly, his eyes searching yours, seeking any trace of doubt or hesitation.

"Really?" he asked, his voice cracking with the weight of your response. "You mean it? You really want this?"

He didn't wait for an answer, instead, lifting you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist so that your legs were locked around his torso. As he carried you towards the bedroom, his long legged stride fueled by desire and need.

He panted, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss. "Gods above, I fucking love you."

You sniffled, attacking his neck and throat with hot open mouthed kisses while he pushed the door open with his foot. Giving you a fraction of a second to see that he’d furnished the room and made the bed before he laid you softly onto the new comforter.

Anakin followed suit, falling onto the bed beside you, bodies pressed against each other. He broke the kiss long enough to crawl down your body, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down your chest, stopping at your cleavage to slip your shirt off your torso.

"Tell me," he murmured against your skin, his breath tickling the hills of your breast when he’d freed you from the confines of your bra.

His tongue flicking your nipple before he sucked it into his mouth, eliciting a moan from the both of you. "Tell me you mean it."

You squirmed beneath him, arching your back, begging for more of his attention. "I mean it. I want this new life with you."

“Then let’s break in the new bed the way it’s meant to be huh?” He teased in a low voice, his hot breath fanning over your throat as he forced you to wait in between each slow and sensual tongue-filled love bite.

Anakin chuckled against your sensitive skin as he licked down your sternum and up to each hardened peak of your tits. Releasing your nipple with a wet pop. He trailed kisses down your stomach before reaching your pants and unbuttoning them slowly, exposing your lacy black panties.

"I want to taste you," he murmured, his hands hooking into your waistband and lowering your pants and underwear simultaneously. His face hovered over your exposed pussy, his breath heating up your moist folds.

Your body twitched, begging for his touch, but he teased you mercilessly, trailing his tongue around the edge of your entrance before finally diving inside, flicking your clit with his tongue while his fingers teased your tight hole.

Ohhh…” You breathed out in bliss, keeping your hips as still as possible. Knowing he preferred for you to trust him to make you cum. He was always telling you that eating pussy is a privilege and that he’s going to make sure he earns it everytime. “Mmm Anakin, that’s s-so good.”

Anakin groaned, his tongue delving deeper into your wetness, seeking out every hidden crevice of your body. His hand reached between your legs, massaging your sensitive spot before his thumb pulled just above your clit, exposing it for the flat of his tongue to lave. Passing back and forth over it slowly, increasing the pressure until you were on the brink of orgasm.

His tongue slowed down, flicking your sensitive folds before retreating to your leaking hole, teasingly circling it before dipping inside, probing and stretching you with the delicate strokes of his tongue.

With each moan and whimper that escaped your lips, he knew he was getting closer to claiming what was rightfully his—your cum.

“Anakin,” you moaned in a way that felt like it originated from your soul. Anakin’s eyes fluttering as he hummed in response to your pleasured noises.

“Faster please I’m so close.” You whined, bucking your hips.

He didn’t verbally respond, he just smacked your thigh to make you stop wriggling and shook his head. He wasn’t planning on speeding up.

No- not at all.

He slurped at your clit louder than necessary before sucking it into his mouth to provide suctioned pressure as he continued to massage the sensitive nub with the flat of his tongue. His fingers keeping their steady and firm snail’s pace to rub circles into your spongy front wall.

It was a combination of all of it, the added sensuality of the act and the lewd noises that tipped you over the edge. He coaxed the bubbling orgasm into a rolling boil that had your back arching and your juices coating his face.

Anakin groaned, his own cock throbbing against the mattress. Savoring the taste of you on his lips and tongue. After a few moments of post-orgasmic bliss, he finally pulled away, his face messy and his eyes glazed over.

He stood up straight again, towering over you with an expression of adoration, worship. Like he’d discovered a goddess fallen from the heavens sent just for him.

"Feel good huh baby?" he panted, his voice hoarse from his efforts. "Never seen you so speechless."

His eyes gleamed with power and satisfaction in equal parts.

He brought his palm to his mouth while tugging his boxers down, wiping the mixture of salvia and slick from his skin. Using the fluids to lube up his hard, veiny cock.

He nudged his cockhead against your wet hole, testing its readiness and indulging in the satisfying warmth against his sensitive tip.

“Just relax doll, I’ve got you.” He murmured, resting his weight above you on his forearms that he slid beneath your upper back, one large palm cradled your skull while the other gently squeezed your shoulder in a possessive grip.

Anakin lined up his swollen member at your entrance, teasing you with the head of his cock as it pushed barely past your sensitive folds. He waited for your body to adjust to him, his hips rocking back and forth, pushing just in just enough to make you writhe in anticipation.

"You're so tight, baby girl," he groaned, unable to control himself any longer. With a single thrust, he plunged into you, filling every inch of your tightness. You let out a sharp yelp of pleasure mixed with pain that he loved hearing.

“Relax. Open up f’me.” He soothed with loving kisses, moans swallowed by his eager mouth. He pushed past your lips gently trading the flavors of your cum with that of your tongue.

“Gonna make love to you right.” He promised in the most seductive tone he could muster. “slow and deep.”

“Gods Anakin…” You whispered, bringing your knees up higher and spreading your legs a bit further to accommodate him properly and get comfortable with the feeling of being so full.

“Yes.” You whined, mouth hanging open in a silent moan as you felt every ridge, throb and twitch of his heavy cock. “you’re so deep Ani.”

Anakin grabbed your legs, holding them in place for you as he began to move in and out of you slowly, savoring the sound of your moans escaping your throat. Each thrust was deliberate and powerful, filling every crevice of your pussy with his length.

"Pretty girl," he groaned. "Y’keep squeezing me so tight. Let go for me doll, you can do it."

Catching his breath between each thrust, he continued to praise your body, telling you how much he loved feeling connected to you in this way.

“That’s my girl, just like that.” He nodded, looking down at you with pride written in the corners of his crooked smile. “Perfect. Good job darlin’ there we go.”

“M’gonna… gonna cum.” You mumbled against his lips, feeling the vibration of his deep groan as his response.

“Yeah you are, aren’t you babydoll?” He growled, eyes burning your blissful face into his memory for ever. “Almost there darlin’ I can feel it coming.”

“Uh huh.” You nodded in agreement, stomach clenching as the tightly wound coil finally burst and allowed your body to feel a heavenly warmth as your flesh pricked with goosebumps.

Anakin groaned, his thrusts becoming more sloppy as he felt your climax flood out around him.

"Oh god, I’m right there.” He mumbled, his sweaty forehead resting on yours, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

With one final stroke, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, holding you tight as his cock throbbed violently within your depths. A hot, thick stream of cum shot out of him, painting your insides with his seed. It was like fireworks as your bodies shook with shared ecstasy. His orgasm lasted long enough for him to pull out slightly, then plunging back in again, claiming every inch of you before collapsing on top of you, spent but satisfied.

“Mmmm Anakin.” You moaned softly. “Gods, I think you’ve ruined me.” You laughed quietly, a tear or two escaping your eyes from the intensity.

Anakin chuckled, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath.

"That's what I aim for," he panted, his voice raspy. "Never gonna let you forget how good it feels to be mine."

He rolled over onto his side, pulling you close against him, spooning your body against his, his arm wrapping around your waist protectively. "Rest now doll. You’ll need it.”

“I’ve got you all alone for the first time in a while. You’re not leaving this bed till I’ve made sure my little princess has been fucked stupid." he whispered into your ear, his lips brushing against your temple in a gentle kiss.

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daisyblog · 6 months

Text

Mothers Love

Our Story Masterlist Summary: Anne and Jay can see the love Harry and YN have for each other.

Based on this request

Since the days their sons got put into a band on The X Factor, Jay and Anne clicked. They bonded over their love for their children, fashion and tea.

The two women helped and supported each other through the boys journey of leaving home so quickly and never really returning. They would often talk for hours on the phone in the evening or have a small conversation over Twitter.

But when Anne’s named flashed up on Jay’s phone one afternoon, she was pleasantly surprised.

“Hello love” Jay cheerfully answered.

“Hi my darling…how are you all?”.

“We’re all doing good…how’s everyone with you…Harry’s home isn’t he, Louis told me”.

“Uh yes he is….that’s what I wanted to talk to you about”.

Jay was slightly confused about why Anne would need to talk to her about Harry but she let her continue.

“Is YN home?”.

Without thinking Jay replied. “She’s over at her friends house…why?”.

Anne paused for a short moment, almost like she was piecing together a puzzle. “Harry’s on a date….and I think it’s with YN”.

Jay chuckled at the assumption that her daughter was on a date with her brothers best friend. “She told me she was going over to her friends house…so I don’t think it’s with YN”.

“Jay…they’re definitely on a date”.

“How can you be so sure?”.

“Harry asked for Robin and I’s advice…he kept asking about what he should do if he liked someone he shouldn’t” Anne explained her assumption.

“I don’t understand why that would mean it’s my YN”.

“I also may have seen her name pop up on his phone” Anne defended her reasoning.

“Oh…uh…um…do you think it could be serious then?”.

“Well we’ll soon find out my darling”.

---

A couple of weeks after the article of Harry and YN getting caught kissing was released, Anne had invited Jay and YN over whilst Harry was home for a couple of days to spend the afternoon with them.

When Jay and YN had arrived at Anne’s house, they were warmly welcomed by Anne and Robin, with a nervous Harry hovering behind them. But his nerves calmed slightly when Jay greeted him with a hug and a “nice to see you my love”.

Anne could see that YN and Harry were unsure how to act in front of their Mums, so she invited Jay into the kitchen so she could make them all a cup of tea.

Once their Mums were in the kitchen and far enough not to hear, Harry felt less nervous and pulled YN into his arms “I’ve missed you”.

“I’ve missed you too…so much” YN held onto Harry tighter.

As they both pulled away and looked each other, Harry dipped his head down and placed a peck onto YN’s lips. “I want to properly kiss you…but I’m scared of our Mums right now”, a nervous giggle left his mouth.

“Oh yeah ‘cause me Mum and Anne are really scary aren’t they?” YN teased.

“Harry!” Anne’s voice interrupted them. “Your teas are ready”.

Not wanting to keep their Mums waiting, Harry showed YN the way into the kitchen, his hand covering the small of her back.

As they approached the open kitchen, both Anne and Jay were sat next to each other at the kitchen table, four cups of tea sitting on the table.

“Here’s your tea my loves” Anne gestures to the two mugs sat on the table with steam coming from them.

Harry and YN sat opposite their Mums and took a sip of their teas.

“Okay…so we thought it would be a good idea to talk about the both of you” Anne broke the silence that surrounded them.

“Mum…please” Harry began to protest, not wanting to have this conversation with his Mum or Jay.

Anne was quick to interrupt “Harry…we need to talk about this…look you’re my baby but YN is Jay’s…and I want to make sure you’re serious about this”.

“Of course I’m serious…I l-…I’m serious Mum” Harry’s words stumbled out, YN reaching her hand across under the table to lace her fingers with his.

“I’m sorry…I just don’t want anyone to get hurt” Anne expressed her concern.

“I think what your Mum is trying to say is…you’re both our babies and we want what’s best for you” Jay tried to explain her and Anne’s feelings.

For the first time since sitting at the table, YN speaks “Mum..Anne…I know we’re young and it might seem like we don’t know what we want…but please trust us”.

Anne and Jay shared a look, knowing that Harry and YN were right. They needed to trust their children.

---

The boys were playing their first show of their Take Me Tour at the London O2 Arena, and of course all the boys families were attending. YN was joining the boys on the tour as Lou’s assistant.

Anne and Jay were sat chatting together ahead of the show, expressing how much they were going to miss their sons and Jay saying how she felt even more emotional this tour because YN would be joining them.

But both women glanced to where Harry and YN were cuddled up on a chair in the corner of the room, watching something on one of their phones and giggling every so often.

“Aww to be young and in love again” Anne joked and nudged Jay. “I’m just older and in love”.

Jay laughed at Anne’s joke but understanding completely. “I hope their love lasts”.

“A love like that could never end”.

---

The day of Jay and Dan’s wedding, Harry, Anne and Robin were sat in the audience waiting for the ceremony to start.

“When’s your big day then?” Anne openly questioned Harry.

Harry coughed into his hand, a shy smile on his face. “Hmm…all you need to know is…one day I’ll marry YN”. Harry’s cheeky smile appearing as he glanced to the side to respond to his mother.

It was later on in the evening, guests had taken to the dance floor slow dancing to Thinking Out Loud. But Anne and Jay had found themselves sitting at one of the round tables in the outside marquee, watching as Harry and YN swayed to Ed’s voice. Harry had his hands resting at her hips, whilst YN’s were wrapped around his shoulders.

The couple could be seen whispering and giggling to each other. “Harry hasn’t stopped staring at YN all day” Anne announced.

“If they keep that up, we’ll be grandma’s before we know it” Jay chuckled, whilst pointing out the couple kissing on the dance floor.

“Do we tell them to stop?” Anne nervously asked, unsure what they should do.

Jay laughed and nudged Anne’s shoulder with hers. “They’re young…let them enjoy…plus I wouldn’t mind being a Nana”.

“You’d be the best Nana” Anne complimented Jay, giving her big smile.

“Our grandbabies will have the best grandma’s”.

liked by mrsjoannahdeakin, gemmastyles, and 769,765 others

annetwist Young love ❤️ Our babies mrsjoannahdeakin xx View all 8,576 comments

gemmastyles Aw cuties 💕

mrsjoannahdeakin The perfect photo! Our babies ❤️❤️

harryfan I still don't believe this is real!

louteasdale my fav couple xx

louisfan Can they get any cuter💘

lottietomlinson yntomlinson...yours next??? ⌞gemmastyles I agree x ⌞harryynfan PLEASE GET MARRIED! ⌞niallhoran Go on, we could do with another wedding x

ynfan ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

ynupdate OUR FAVOURITE DUO! We've had so much YN and Harry content today!

1Dfan they're so in love!

Tag List: (let me know if you would like to be added) @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy@harrys-flower@platinumbarbie143@frickin-bats@harrysbbyh0ney@chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@kaverichauhan@peterholland04@panicattheuc@indierockgirrl@or-was-it-just-a-dream@hittiesontour@bunnyharold@fanfictioncafe@lilfreakjez@jerseygirlinca@iamahallucinationnn@theekyliepage

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hotchfiles · 2 months

Text

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [CHOICELESS HOPE] ❞ — three. need in the devotee.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader. summ.: the moment leading up to the kiss, the drumroll, is as good as the kiss itself. it's certainly more innocent. it's completely harmless. cw: canon divergent. emotional cheating. right person wrong time. no use of y/n. wc: 1k+.

previously

first cases were always an awkward matter, getting to know new people, having them wonder if you were nice or not and wondering the same thing about them. you thought maybe having dave around would make it less clunky. irrevocably wrong you were, as you had to explain the divorce from your cheating husband when he asked how the bastard was.

everytime you thought about your divorce it made something in your brain twitch, it had been finalized four years prior but it still hurt, and you got mad at yourself for being hurt, not only because it was a hit to your gut, your untrusting nature decided to trust this one man and he broke it so easily. but it hurt more as deep down you felt like you deserved it. like it was your karma.

“i watched you speak about the importance of profiling for crisis negotiation once. you seemed very passionate about it, almost like hotch–” you held in a sigh as the genius boy possibly every unit had heard of spoke. you were an expert. a leader in your field. it just happened that your field was the one hotchner literally wrote the book about. you would have to deal with the comparison constantly now. “why did you transfer?”

“not the pay, that i can assure you.” that earned you your first group laugh, some of them looking over at rossi, possibly understanding now why he looked so enthusiastic about your transfer, or because he was the one who mostly talked about the fact the pay was shit.

“she was the only one available with experience, and she was forced to.” aaron clarifies from his seat on the jet, having thoroughly read your paperwork by now. you nod in confirmation, not caring that it wasn’t the best look to have been forced into their unit. it was yours first anyway.

“familiarity with the way hotch works was a factor too, it seems.” some things don’t come written on paper, only the influence of being one of the unit’s founders, like dave, guaranteed that type of information, or at least you thought so, as that fact didn’t come to you as reasoning. still, you wouldn’t lose the opportunity to tease aaron, even if only a bit.

“familiarity is a way to put it, huh? most of his methodology was created with me.” scoffing loudly was his response while he shook his head in disbelief, the rest of the team glancing from you to him in curiosity.

“maybe write a book about it then.” two hours into the first jet flight and you could possibly punch him in the face to get that little shit eating grin out of it. or maybe kiss him.

“i thought working with you two together would make me feel young again. it doesn’t. i’m too old for this now.” dave points to you both and looks back to the files, bringing the conversation back to the case in hand.

first two months he tries not to favor your presence, sending you off with derek, dave or spencer to check crime scenes, talk to suspects, witnesses, but like magnets you two always ended up beside each other, too close, shoulders touching while reading files and completing each other’s thoughts for the profiles.

you do try to keep your distance as best as you can as well, favoring sitting alone on the jet, talking to emily or losing to reid at chess, bonding with the team was an important part of what made any work the best work possible. and it’s not as in better workplace, but better at the job.

connecting with the team made profiling better, faster, that was why you and hotch were quick to make connections, quick to see holes, patterns, when you were together.

still you catch his annoying glances that he makes no effort to conceal when you lock eyes with him, instead he smiles with his teeth and waits for you to look away. and you usually do.

las vegas being the final destiny though, you had your mind set on not looking away when he did his well known dance of glancing and waiting for you to look back, instead getting up to your feet and walking over to him, savoring the soft, almost shy smile he gave you as he took in your every move, from your seat to the one by his side.

you take a spray bottle out of the pocket of your fbi jacket and hand him without a word, trying to ignore the way he makes it his job to linger the soft brush your fingers against his as he read the information.

“sunscreen? you know i don’t–”

“don’t like the feeling on your skin, yeah, that’s a spray one, not sticky, not liquidy and it dries out completely.” aaron listens to you intently, but still has his suspicions, being shown clearly by the way he furrowed his brows even though his heart was skipping several beats by your actions.

“what about the smell?” he’s properly fiddling with the bottle as if he was a kid with a toy, taking the cap off and trying to smell it through the sprayer, you roll your eyes and extend your arm to him.

“it’s unscented, touch and smell my arm, i’m wearing it.” you’re not really thinking it through when you almost shove your forearm on his nose, he obliges it and takes a deep breath, you feel the air leaving his nose in your skin and get suddenly shy.

his cheeks flush in warm pink, the product might be unscented but your skin smells like… you. he could recognize it from a mile away. he thinks to himself for a second and realizes that maybe if sunscreens had your scent he wouldn’t mind using them. and when his fingers softly touch your wrist, getting hold of it to lower it down, he is reminded of how soft you feel so he has no choice but to drop it or else he would be holding onto it for as long as you’d let him.

#lari writes sometimes #those are two different days btw #aaron x reader #aaron x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario

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lynlyndoll · 4 months

Text

I wish

genre: fluff, angst, comfort, neighbor au, friends to crushes to strangers to lovers

pair: bangchan x fem!reader

summary: You've always wished for things that never happened, or at least, that's what you thought. The whole theory you made about not getting what you truly wished for was ended when your biggest wish got granted. The one of having the one you love next to you.

word count: 4k

lyn's note: hello guys! oh my, i've missed writing and publishing actual fics here :)) so here is the first part of the event, i hope you guys will like it! please reblog/like if you like this, thank you!!!

8 days for Christmas masterlist

“I wish… I wish…” you kept saying in your parents’ car, watching out the window at the white scenery displayed outside. You were in the process of moving away from your old house because of your dad’s new job - something that you disliked with your whole heart. Not only that you were moving away from your best friends, but the move came during Christmas time - your favorite time of the year, that now has been fogged with sad thoughts of leaving your favorite people. “I wish we wouldn’t have moved.” You scoff, continuing your idea. Your parents look at you, your mom slightly smiling.

“Everything’s going to be fine, Y/N… You’ll see! You love Christmas! Look how much snow we have!” She chuckles, making you look at her and sigh.

You, indeed, loved snow - a factor that indeed maybe made you be more positive about the move, since during winter, at your old place, snow rarely came. You slowly smiled, however, still trying to keep your sad face on.

You get out of the car and the first thing you do is breathe in the cold air that is brushing over your skin. You smile at the feeling, a little giggle escaping your lips. Looking around, you see a little boy smiling at you, waving his little hand a little after you locked eyes with him. You wave back, which encourages the boy to come closer.

“Hi!” The boy says and you reciprocate the greeting. “You're new, right? I stay just across the street - wait you saw that already… Uhm, if you need some help, I can help you! And my family will, as well! I’m Chan, by the way! Chan Bahng!”

“I’m Y/N…” you shyly say. “Y/N Y/LN. And thank you…” You smile.

Your dad then calls you to help him, interrupting the small interaction between you and the boy, named Chan. You go inside the house to help your parents move in, getting box after box from the moving truck.

“Who’s the boy?” Your mom asks you, as the work is finally done. “He seems nice.”

“He’s Chan. Chan Bahng. His family lives just across the street.” You smile thinking at the boy. Your mom smiles as well.

“Then, if they are our new neighbors, we should invite them to dinner, after we finish moving this mess.” She says, chuckling.

Next time you see Chan is at school, in the hallways.

“Hi, Y/N!” He says, happily. “How have you been? How's the moving? Still don’t need my strong arms?” He jokes, showing his arms as if he had big muscles, making you laugh.

“Thanks, Chan, but we've almost finished! And I've been… I guess, fine? I still miss my friends and the time isn't making it better.” You sigh, thinking about the Christmas you spent with your friends, knowing that this year’s Christmas wont have its special guests around the Christmass tree.

“Yeah, I think I understand the feeling. I also love Christmas and I'm sure it must be hard for you… But still, you have me!” He smiles, taking your hand and running along the corridors till he finds the door that leads to the school’s backyard, which was full of snow. You smile and follow him outside, running around and throwing snowballs at each other.

That night, your family got an invitation for Christmas from the Bahngs. You smiled, remembering what happened during school hours. Your family accepted the invitation, which made you radiate happiness.

The Christmas parties became an annual tradition for your and his families, each year being spent either at your house or his house. You grew up with him being your perfect and funny neighbor, the one that you could always count on for saving the day. A tradition became decorating each other’s house in the last week before Christmas, ending each day with a Christmas movie while drinking your favorite hot chocolate. Many other traditions were made with him, more than half of your special memories being filled with him.

Every year, the school organized a Christmas party for the seniors - and now, it was your turn as well to participate. As much as you loved the idea of going to the school’s party, you knew that there weren't many people interested in the idea of going with you. In fact, you knew that actually no person would want to go with you. No person, except - you hoped - Chan. Chan was always there for you, always ready to help, so why not ask him. Sure, you hoped you’d be the one asked out for the party, but after all, the question itself wasn't a big deal, right?

You prepared everything, so, with the help of your few friends, the question would be perfect. A banner that you made with your girl best friend was hung, your friends were already making Chan walk up to you and your hands were sweaty from the nervousness. But, afterall, he is Chan, right? He wouldn't say no, right?

As he enters the room you specially occupied for the question, his eyes land on you. Your smile is bright as you ask your question. He smiles as well, although, a little bit awkwardly.

“Y/N… as much as I’d want to… I already asked Sana and she said yes.” He says, trying not to upset you. In fact, now you realize how stupid you must've been. You've always known that Chan always liked Sana - nothing new or nothing to bother you. You slightly smile, muttering a “Good job!” and a “Sorry for asking.” as you walk out the room. He tries to follow you, but your friends stop him - they knew you wanted to be alone.

You, indeed, wanted to be left alone, swallowing your tears as you realized that not even your best friend, the boy you've known since you were six years old, the boy who would've done anything for you, didn't want to go with you. Sure, you knew that you were probably too egoistic to think that he'd drop everything for you, but still, you couldn't stop feeling sad that the one person you truly felt connected to, wasn't there for you.

You decided not to bother over the fact that he went to the Christmas party without you. You also decided not to bother when Sana and him started going out together, as a couple, and he hasn't had any time for you as well. You decided not to bother over the fact that he went to the prom, without you again, making you stay at home while eating ice cream and tears mixing with the hiccups you got. Okay, maybe you were indeed upset. Maybe you missed your best friend. So what? You were okay with him dating, afterall, it was a normal thing to do at your age - not that you had part of it. To be completely honest, you haven't had your first kiss yet, but hey! What’s the big deal, right?

“I wish… I wish he’d fucking see.” you sigh. Yes, you wish he’d see that you may care about him more than you'd care for a friend, youd even wish he’d acknowledge it, even if it would mean that he refuses you. At least, that way, you would accept that you have no chance with him.

Even if you were still thinking about your crush on Chan, you decided to try and have some fun without him. So, when you got asked out for the first time, you immediately accepted. Not only because you were desperate to get Chan off your mind, but also because the boy who asked you out wasn’t too bad. In fact, he was a fun person to be with, attentive and caring. Plus, he was also pretty. His name - Taehyung - was pretty as well, it fitted him.

You both went to a few dates together and you soon - almost - forgot about the Chan situation. Sadly, both of you parted away from each other, but you didn't have time to notice that. He tried, indeed, to talk to you, after Sana and him broke up. But you were always with Taehyung, which always brought you joy.

That summer was the summer you parted ways for college as well. You started going to the university from the other side of the town, while he went to the closest university from his home. Every year, however, both of you would see each other for Christmas holidays, both of your eyes lingering on each other for a few seconds, before entering the house, unspoken words coming out every time. Taehyung was a great boyfriend. You loved him, but a little feeling in the back of your mind was always there, never making you stop thinking about Chan.

“Y/N… I- we aren’t working anymore.” A teary Taehyung says, as you are also crying.

It all started two months ago. You and him both started to have a lot of work to do and none of you tried to make a little conversation with each other. You both got back to your shared apartment wasted and full of workload, entering the kitchen, grabbing some quick snack and going to sleep, only for the next day to happen exactly the same. You both tried to start talking again, but whenever one of you tried, the other wasn't in the mood of anything. Other than that, almost every week had its own fight, over the most insignificant stuff, which exhausted each other even more. Today was another fight, because he found the apartment messy. The fight accelerated quickly and soon enough, words were hitting each other again, harshly. Tears appeared in each other’s eyes.

“We… we can’t, we-”

“Don’t you see, Y/N?” He sighs. “We haven’t had a normal conversation for months! We have barely even seen each other!”

“It’s- It’s only a phase, we will-”

“Y/N, please listen to me.” He cupped your face and made you look at him. “I love you, but we aren’t working. This- this is toxic! And it isn’t a phase… We’ve been like this for months, Y/N. For months! It’s not good for any of us!” He says, frustration being heard from the tone of his voice. His words make you cry even harder, hugging him as a goodbye.

“I loved you too, Taehyung. Very much. Thank you… for everything.” You sigh into his embrace. “I’ll leave in the morning.” You say as you go pack your bags.

Tragic, right? The only guy that made you feel safe put an end to your relationship. You knew that the relationship was getting even more toxic by day, but there was a hope… You wished it would get back to normal, to the way it used to be. But of course everything that you truly wish for, never happens. You always have laughed, the truth to be told, about the way that everything that you wished for turned out exactly the other way. If it happened to anyone other than yourself, you’d laugh, honestly. Because it simply sounds funny - to never have something that you truly wish for. And all of these wishes that never ended well, were all during the winter holiday, your favorite time of the year. But maybe it’s just your negative thoughts. Probably. Either way, right now, you have to think about another thing, about packing your things and getting out of your now ex boyfriend.

It's exactly eleven months and thirteen days since you and your ex-boyfriend broke up. You weren't mourning your relationship anymore, however, you were still thinking about the happy moments you had together. However, you had no time to think about your past, now focusing on your last year of university. Truth to be told, you were straight up stressed and frustrated with the amount of work your teachers made you have - but you were ready to give your best.

You still live with your parents, not having enough money to find an apartment all by yourself. Many people said it's stressing, to stay with your parents, but you were glad you still had some time to spend with your family, since you'd move away from home once you finished college. Afterall, this is your last Christmas here and you want to take in everything before you leave your childhood place.

As you were getting nostalgic, you hear your mother call you from outside your room. You find your mom in the kitchen, preparing breakfast.

“Hi, love.” She says and gives you a kiss on your forehead, but quickly gets back to cooking. “Your dad and I will go to his parents for the Christmas week and, since you're full of workload, we know you would prefer to remain at home. The only thing that I want to warn you is that, since you're a Christmas lover, we know you'll want to prepare the whole house for the holidays, so please take care. We will leave tomorrow morning, before you'll wake up, so don't worry about us.”

You smile and nod, still a little bit sleepy. “Alright! Please take care, mom.” Right then, your father came from your parents’ bedroom, smiling at the smell of the pancakes your mother just finished making.

It's already the 17th. Fuck. It's a week before Christmas and, even if you're full of excitement for having the house all for yourself during the holidays, you still can't stop thinking if your Christmas-decoration plan isn't a bit too much for yourself, being alone. But after all, you're Y/N, you've done this many times - sure, with the help of your parents and, well…

“Hey, don't you think you need a bit of… help?” Well, fuck. You could recognize that voice whenever and wherever. The exact person you were thinking of previously, the one and only Chan Bahng. You'd lie if you would say that you wouldn't need some help, though. But you don't want help, especially from him. So you try to ignore his concerned tone, as you try to put the Christmas lights at your house's eaves, standing on a not-so-stable metal staircase. And exactly what you did not wish for, happened. Your stairs happened to just give up on you, making you fall. Chan, immediately after he saw the way your stairs were moving in a not-so-safe way. He caught you in his arms, preventing you from hitting the pavement. He smiles, but once you feel his arms stopping your fall, you jump away from him, rearranging your outfit. He coughs, sighing at his question still being unanswered.

You force a smile. “Well, I guess..” You sigh, thinking that you, indeed, need some help. Even from Chan, your ex-best friend and still neighbor.

Indeed with the help of another person, you soon finished decorating the outside. As you were entering the house, he stopped you. “Hey, uhm, maybe… I can help you with the inside as well? Since it's a big house and little time and we'll, you're alone.” He smiles, almost too awkwardly for Chan. He was right. Again. Another thing to add to the list of the things you don't like about him. You nod your head, inviting him in. Well, maybe you have another helper. The only thing you need to do is just, simply, finish the whole decorating situation, as fast as you can, and he'll be gone. Right?

That was the plan. A plan you had terribly failed, starting off with the question: “What in the world smells like this?”. A question asked by your neighbor, Chan. A question that even yourself would’ve asked if you wouldn't have been the one preparing the Christmas cookies you once knew how to prepare. You laughed, honestly, because another thing that you wished for just simply didn't happen. Well, that's the smallest thing that hasn't happened as wanted, you told yourself. Funny. Either way, the bad smell somehow found its way into the alley - the one Chan, exactly at that moment, was walking by. Funny, again. He knocked at your door, thinking that there might have been some type of fire accident and he was worried for you - something you brushed off easily, as only guilt built up through years. He asked you that exact question, which made you laugh - a genuine laugh, that made Chan thank God for finally getting some type of positive reaction to him - and you simply answered by letting him inside, showing him the cookies - the horribly burnt, with no taste cookies. You knew that you were a bad cook since you were a kid, to be honest. But usually, your parents or friends - yes, even Chan used to fit this category - were next to you, helping you out, which always made your cooking way more bearable - not for you, but for the other's health. Once he sees the cookies, his signature smile appears, his nose scrunching from both the unpleasant smell and from laughing. You smile as well - another sign that Chan takes in.

“Okay, don’t you think you need some help with… those?” He says, amusingly.

“Maybe…” You laugh as well, throwing the cookies into the bin.

That day, you cooked with Chan till late. The first attempt that you both made was so good that none could stop eating, so exactly when you wanted to take some and put them for the decor, you noticed none was left. So you both did another round of cookies, this time leaving some for the decor. Seeing that it was close to midnight, you invited him to eat something at your house, from your mom’s famous Christmas steak - an actually very common steak, however, you and Chan gave that name a few years ago, in your childhood. So he accepts your invitation, settling down at the table. That night, you both started talking about everything that happened during the time you didn’t talk - a thing that somehow, made you feel better. It was a good dinner, you thought, even if the steak was a little bit too cold, but his presence made the atmosphere warmer, so you didn’t mind it.

There are exactly 6 days, 20 hours and 21 - actually 22, no 23 - seconds since you started planning for Christmas and eventually, started speaking to Chan again. A thing you finally didn’t regret. You were finally together, again. And tonight was finally Christmas Eve. Funny, you didn’t even register how the time went.

Ding Dong.

A sound comes from outside of your house. You open the door and are met with a red-nosed Chan, with the one sweatshirt you gave him years ago - you didn’t even recognize it at first - and with his hands on two hot chocolates, both from your favorite cafe in town. He looks up at you, eyes a little bit teary from the cold and you immediately smile and let him in.

“Hey-”

“I did not want you to spend Christmas alone, Y/N… So, here I am!” he answers right away at your unspoken question. You forgot this man can literally predict your every move. So you just smile and help him with the hot chocolate - which you then pour into your favorite mugs, the ones you both got for Christmas, a long time ago.

“What movie are we watching this Christmas, Y/N?” He asks, making himself cozy on your couch. You sit next to him, placing some of the Christmas cookies you both made together in front of you, accompanied by the hot chocolate Chan got - especially for you, a thing that he won’t tell anyone, actually.

“Well, how about (your favorite Christmas romance movie)?” You smile, as he nods and opens Netflix, pressing play to the movie.

There are 6 days, 23 hours and 19 - 20, 21 and 22 - seconds since Christmas appeared in your planning agenda again and you're finally at the last part. The one you enjoyed every Christmas - cuddling with a sleepy and warm Chan, that knows all the action of the movie, so when he wakes up at exactly 3 minutes before the main characters kiss, he knows all the action that has happened. And now, he’s finally awake, again, 3 minutes before the kiss scene, exactly as you expected.

2 minutes.

“Okay, they are close!” He says with excitement in his voice as he hugs you even closer than you were, making you chuckle. You hug him back as well. Somehow, you like this proximity, even if it feels way more different than it used to be back when you were teenagers. It feels intimate, but you brush the thought off.

1 minute.

“Hold on~” He says, trying to figure out exactly the moment they will kiss. The two main characters are on the big screen of your TV, meaningful words being said by both of them. You start thinking how good it has to feel to have a winter love that grows day by day and the love erupts during Christmas Eve. It feels magical, untouchable, and you have to admit that you'd want to feel it too. Feel the thrill of celebrating both Christmas and the day you and your loved one had become a couple. You tried to imagine it, but the only thing that came into your head was the little boy that you saw the first day you moved here. In your imagination, the little boy grew and grew, and then you saw through your thoughts dates that he would have probably taken you to. You sigh at the mental images you imagined, returning back to reality when he strokes your hand. Your eyes meet his - he was already looking at you.

30 seconds

“Are you okay?” His gentle voice rings in your head.

“Yeah…” That's all you can say. You're not fooling him, so he scoots even closer to you.

“Y/N, I know you for a long time - too long to remember actually” He cracks a joke, making you smile. “I know when you’re not doing great, so please tell me. I am - well, I used to - be your best friend-”

“You still are…” You interrupt him.

15 seconds

“Well, I’m glad because you’re also mine-”

“That’s the thing. We’re best friends.” you continue.

“Yeah… I know?”

“Well, yeah, only best friends. Nothing else. Exactly as we used to be during our childhood.” You say, your gaze now being in your lap. He doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “During our childhood, I never truly understood what I felt to you. I confused it with… friendship, but it wasn’t quite that. It was more like… teen love, I guess? I mean, I was still a kid, but I felt something for you, more than I felt for my other friends, y’know? And… it broke my heart when I saw you with Sana-”

“It broke my heart to see you with Taehyung, as well.” He says, quietly, making you look at him, his blush prominent on his cheeks. “I mean… I thought you didn't see me this way and all of my friends made fun of me for not having a relationship, so I asked Sana out because I knew - well, I thought - you’d say no.” He sighs.

3 seconds

“Well, I never knew-”

“Is there a reason why we stopped talking?” He asks, making you nod. He cups your cheeks and lets out a heavy sigh.

2 seconds

“Do you, by any chance, still feel the same way?” He asks, hoping to be heard in his tone.

“I-” you remain blocked, a smile growing and growing until it reaches your eyes. “Yeah.”

1 second

“Then, fucking kiss me!” He groaned, rolling his eyes in a fake annoyance.

Kiss scene

No one was focusing on the movie, not now when your lips were on his. He was like coziness, home and safety - a mix of all of your comfort things. He tasted like Christmas, like actual Christmas. Both of you started to smile in the kiss, a soft, long awaited moment for both of you.

“I wish we did this before…” You say once you break the kiss.

“I wish we will do this forever.” He smiles, bringing another wave of positivity to you, kissing you again, just as he wished. Forever.

taglist: @agi-ppangx @lisaaassophhhieee @jenny1p-l0ve

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hwajin · 1 year

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#! — [ scent ] Hwang Hyunjin

— fem!reader // nsfw — panty sniffer hyunjin 🤨

Hyunjin stirred awake in the softness of your sheets, soft sun hitting his skin and making him squint his eyes in slight annoyance. You never closed the curtains over night, loved to be greeted by natural light in the mornings — it has always been a factor in your relationship the two of you bickered over, Hyunjin one to enjoy complete and entire darkness, you not understanding his point of view. At some point, to stop the bickering and to get it over with, you've decided that you'd go with your principles in your own homes — dark whenever you slept over at Hyunjin's and greeted by sunlight whenever he stayed over night at your place. It seemed to work as a nice compromise.

One thing Hyunjin hated more than being blinded awake was to wake up without you by his side altogether, though. To reach his arms out instictively only to feel nothing in return, missing your warmth and body close to his, whining out in another fit of annoyance. He knew you had to run errands early today, remembered you told him the day prior, much to his dismay; his singular most favourite thing were late mornings with you, both of you sleep drunk and giggly, tired and barely dressed, warm bodies pressed against each other, exchanging lazy kisses that always led to more. Because you could never help it, neither of you, with images of the night before flooding your minds, taking you in hypnotically. Hyunjin despised the mornings he wasn't able to steal those moments with you, hated early schedules and appointments that he had to give you up for. You always called him a bit dramatic for it; though you didn't feel much different to him.

Hyunjin let out a sigh, turning to his side to see your empty space not fully empty after all. By your pillow there laid a note, your quick and messy handwriting reading an 'i won't be long, don't miss me too much... wait for me for breakfast! <3', and Hyunjin couldn't help but chuckle at it, adoring your littlest antics. The idea of you rushing out the house, always a bit late yet still remembering to leave a little note for your boyfriend had Hyunjin's heart pump a bit faster in his chest.

And further down on the mattress, the clothes you slept in. Admittedly, it was never much, a shirt of his he long lost ownership over and the pair of black laced panties he loved, a bow adorning them right above your core. Images flooded him momentarily, the way his hands had wrapped around the soft fabric before sliding the cloth off your body, how he had kissed your heat over the material teasingly just before that. The way your whines and sounds have filled the small room, the way your hands have not been able to let go of him for even a moment, it had seemed.

Would they still be damp? They surely were yesterday, hours of teasing and kissing, grinding and humping before the two of you even remotetly started to undress, and your panties had drawn a wet patch at that point. Hyunjin reached over for the cloth, his slender fingers entangling in the soft material and a sigh left his throat upon imagining your body filling the underwear, your thighs curving into your hips, waistband dipping into your waist. There was an obsession Hyunjin had, almost, with your panties or with you in them, or the innocent picture you drew in them, or maybe what you in your underwear connotated. He wasn't sure at all what it was, maybe simply you altogether. And the memory of you, the clear images behind his inner eye were so overwhelming that he grabbed the cloth in sinful need, a fist closing around the lace before his hand wandered towards his face, inhaling the addicting scent that has set itself into your undergarments. Hyunjin's eyes closed, another content sigh leaving him as he laid there and imagined you with him. He wasn't touching yet, simply basked in the all intaking fantasy of you, as though he'd be able to feel you if he believed enough.

Yet, it didn't take long for his right hand to trace downward along his body, taking his time, need overwhelming him yet not seeing why and where he should rush to. His fingertips danced along his skin just like yours would if you were with him, softly and always so endearing, making Hyunjin wish for more at all times. He was a tease, even when it came to himself, so he didn't give in right away, though he could, easily so. Yet it took him all over five minutes before his fingers even started wrapping around himself, his left hand holding onto your panties for dear life by now, shoving them further into his face, or maybe simply urging to hold them, or maybe he didn't know the reason after all. He was needy, desperate for you and apparently this was however he thought he'd ease the longing.

Would you laugh at him, if you saw Hyunjin in your bed like this? Or maybe you'd adore the needy sight of him, knowing it was you he was needing. His hand now set a steady rhythm, tired whines rolling past his lips almost uncontrollably. You were driving him crazy even in your absence, and you were so oblivious to it. His hand was slightly cold, sending his mind into abyss and causing him to move just this much faster, to buck his hips just this much more into his fist, your panties lacing his face still, the scent sucking him in ever so deeply. He was tracing your body in his mind, every curve and dip, every bit of flesh he'd grab on if you were next to him on the mattress. Every bit of skin he'd kiss if he had the chance to.

Hyunjin bit down on the soft fabric, in attempt to hold back the moans that grew more frequent now but maybe to taste you on his tongue, only faintly and leaving him wish for more. His eyes were shut close, his head thrown back, and his knuckles white, hand moving faster by the second — he drew the most sinful picture that he knew you'd love, and he told himself right the moment that he'd catch up on everything he missed now whenever you were back again. He'd make the both of you wait out on breakfast, would drag you into bed instead and take the real of you in, relishing in having you with him in blood and flesh, not only traces of your clothes and underwear. It simply wasn't enough. And to think it has only been hours since he last saw you, touched and kissed you, been inside you and all over you altogether — he barely believed it, longing for you as though a week has passed since you last saw each other.

It didn't take Hyunjin much longer before his hands painted white, panties still between his teeth, losely now that the pressure was off him, but he didn't dare to let go of them just yet, wanting to relish in the illusion of you for a bit longer. He was embarrassing truly, pathetic and desperate for you — and he flinched upon hearing the floor creak by the end of the bed. And his suspicion turned out true; your eyes wanting, running all over his body and down to where his hand still laid, and up again to where your panties still laced his face. You wanted him as much as he wanted you, maybe longed for him as much as he did for you.

"Mind telling me what you- were doing?"

A whisper, barely even spoken as a question. And Hyunjin's mind went spiraling again.

@etherealeeknow @linoskitty @unexceptional-h @rseanne @diue @es-kay-zee @urcracksisx @jeyelleohe @yunkiwii @meloohmel @nyrasneedy @seochhj @spidercomics @chans-starlight @angelwonie @lix-ables @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @sstarryreads

#hyunjin imagines #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #skz smut #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines

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plan-3-tmars · 6 months

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"You're Just Sitting On The Train" - Double MV Analysis

There's a conversation between the two main character's in a podcast I love called Red Valley which reminds me of the imagery in Double.

"You know when you're on a train, and it's held up, and you're just stuck in the middle of a field while they get the leaves off the line or whatever, and you're going to be hopelessly late, there might be awful consequences to get stressed about but... there's literally nothing you can do about it. It's not your fault. Hopefully you've got a book or something. You're just sitting on the train."

The conversation in context with the scene is about being able to put your problems and stresses, like being late for work, on someone else's shoulders. Let them take responsibility for what's going on so you can feel some relief. It got me thinking about Mikoto and Orekoto (who I'm just going to call John thanks to Neoplasm) and I want to talk about what I think the meaning of it is!!

Trains have many, many different meanings - like almost a ridiculous amount of different interpretations can be made - but I think the meanings that are the most important while talking about Mikoto are trains representing the passage of time, destiny and loneliness.

Loneliness:

While on a train, or waiting for one, you are surrounded by people. However as shown here, most keep their head down and don't speak unless spoken too. It gives a sense of loneliness, you are surrounded by people yet completely alone.

I think this could apply to Mikoto's situation and was possibly a stress factor for him. It is implied from his T1 interrogation questions that Mikoto was popular enough, knowing a lot of people either now or back in high school, but he doesn't seem to open up to any of them. He lies to his mother that everything's okay in their phone call and bottles up his stress. Because of this he is dependant on John to function : "But if you persist, I guess it's my job to keep things on an even keel."

The Passage of Time:

This shot showcases how long the train actually is, it flies through each carriage insanely fast, blurring slightly from the speed alone.

It's been extremely clear since T1 that Mikoto suffers heavily from dissociative amnesia, something that is a very common symptom of DID, and I think the fact this shot blurs could be representing that.

Trains representing time and how humans view the passage of time is probably one of the most popular ways they appear, we tend to think of time as one thing that moves forward constantly in a straight line, similar to an uninterrupted train on a train track, but for Mikoto (and John) time is blurry, hazy. It may seem like things move too fast to keep track of (pun not intended) or individuals with DID can sometimes describe it as feeling like you're missing hours, fronting in a place or room you know you weren't in before and being unaware of the events that led up to you getting to this point.

This feeling of missing hours is relevant to this specific scene as after the camera moves through the train the first person we see is Mikoto - not John, who was in the doorway.

Destiny:

Trains are always headed to a specific location so they can also be associated with life's journey, or in other words, fate and destiny.

Both Mikoto and John are shown as the passengers on their train, not the conductor. They are not in control over life's events, just sitting on the train and this is extremely stressing - especially for Mikoto. John says things like : "another day with that hardly barely there of a smile // You're going to break // You're overdoing it, you're already broken". Mikoto seems to find it hard to deal with life's events, aka the train ride, and perhaps feels like the end destination is unattainable at times of stress.

This point is stressed further imo by the fact that we can't see outside. The windows of the train are either white or black for the majority of the MV, sometimes light or 1 image makes itself known but never a full image of what's actually outside.

Bonus: The Train's Maps!

The map's of the train are shown glitched out, also possibly hinting to the feeling of the train's final destination being unattainable, or could also be referencing hazy memories, but I think this specific detail is about John.

We see the maps glitching out when John sings the lyric : "I don't even know the reason why I'm here." I think the maps glitching could represent the feeling of the loss of purpose.

John was 'born' in order to protect Mikoto, to help carry the burden of whatever is stressing him so much, yet instead of helping Mikoto he ended up being scared of him ("hey, now I saved you right? So why in the hell are you crying?") and it was John's actions that landed them in Milgram - an environment that Mikoto finds extremely stressing, to the point of there being a chance he goes dormant in T3.

Trains are created to arrive at a certain destination, so a train with no idea where it's going (glitchy maps) has lost its purpose.

Despite being an alter 'born' to protect, John has accidently caused Mikoto more harm when he tries, so he questions his role in the system.

Edit: Journey into the Subconscious

After staring at the MV a couple more times I think there's one more train theme I forgot to mention that fits here too, which is that trains can sometimes represent a journey into the mind.

I think there's a chance that the train could represent the system as a whole, or more specifically headspace. The only people on the train are John and Mikoto and the fact we never see what's outside gives a sort of surreal, dream like atmosphere, almost as if this was happening in an environment with no psychical appearance.

The lyrics sung in Double seem to be more directed at Mikoto than the actual audience, and from the last line "I'm so sorry" we can deduce that this song is something of an apology and explanation of John's actions that he wants Mikoto to hear.

#im not rlly 100% certain on any of these points but i wanted to throw them out here to see what others think #also just wanted to write atleast 1 thing on Double because god damn it was SO COOL #also i am in no way an expert on DID - any info here is based on my own research so if there are any inaccuracies pls lmk!!#also yes thats another podcast referance in my milgram analysis. i like sprinkling them in when i find the excuse to talk about them #also sorry for calling orekoto john but im sticking with it cuz that reminds me of john doe from the malevolent podcast #and he is my blorbo #milgram #mikoto kayano #red valley pod

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cupid-styles · 5 months

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omg ok so blurb idea for ginger ale bc u said u needed inspo

i know u kinda already touched up on this in the main story but what if mias like completely drained from school like its exam season and she has to study but shes also somehow failing classes even tho she studied and is swamped with work but cant get up to do anything bc shes panicking and stuff and idk maybe she pushes him away bc shes freaked out and hes like huh bc she never snaps at him like that bla bla and then some angst and fluff and comfort 😭

im so sorry this wasnt supposed to be that long but inspiration struck😭💀obviously u dont have to write it jus a suggestion

omg LOVE THIS!!!!! here's a little something for you :))

word count: 1.7k

content warnings: angst (all is solved in the end), harry being a dummy, age gap romance (8 years)

based on this one-shot!

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

Harry has never seen Mia so exhausted before.

Granted, they've only been officially dating for a few months, but she's typically a relatively organized student. It's something that he's always admired about her — he can think back to his days in university and immediately remembers scattered deadlines and far too many hungover mornings, resulting in constantly missing classes.

Then again, he's never seen her during finals season, and it's apparent that she's feeling the impact of papers, exams, and one too many late nights spent studying.

Because of the nature of their lives, finding time to spend with one another without work or school is often difficult. It's important to Harry that they actively set aside an evening or two each week that's just for them. No discussion of board meetings, lectures, or any stressors — he likes to keep it simple with a delicious and filling meal, a movie on the TV (whether or not they watch it is a separate factor), and his girl nestled into his side.

But for the first time ever, Mia's texting him to cancel.

Under any other ordinary circumstance, he'd be more understanding. Truly. But it's been almost a week since he's seen her, and he's feeling... well, needy. He misses her! And he knows that distance is good, blah blah blah, but this is their time — and it feels like she's just brushing him off, as if he barely matters.

It's why he ends up calling her on his way home from work with Reese driving smoothly and calmly up in the front. Harry drums his fingers against his knee as he listens to the dial tone, a frown on his lips as he waits for her to answer.

"Hello?"

Relief washes over his chest despite her anxiety-ridden tone. "Hey, I'm heading home from work. Do you want me to have Reese come pick you up?"

She sighs frustratedly, "Harry, I just texted you that I can't come over tonight. I have to study."

"You can't give up a few hours to spend with your boyfriend?" he fires back, an accusatory edge to his voice, "I've barely seen you lately."

"You've been in school before, H, you know how stressful exams season is. I need to do well."

"Mi, you're the smartest person I know, you'll be fine if you take some time away from—"

"I won't be, actually," she suddenly snaps. "I'm already failing one of my most important classes and if I don't get at least a B+ on the final, I'll have to retake it next semester. So no, I can't just slack off for a few hours, I need to study, Harry."

Immediately, he pauses. Mia has never gotten angry with him before, vice versa. And he doesn't think he's being particularly unreasonable — if anything, he feels she is — but he's mature enough to know that nothing's getting solved in this conversation. Not when she's clearly tired and stressed. Instead, he opts for the more caring-boyfriend-approach.

"I didn't know you were failing a course. Why didn't you ask for help?"

"Because you can't solve everything!" Mia exclaims, sending a pang of hurt rattling through his chest. "I need to go, alright? I'll see you soon."

With that, the line goes dead.

. . .

Even when Mia falls asleep on her couch, textbook in her lap and a highlighter between her fingers, she can't believe Harry.

The next morning, when she has a persistent ache in her neck and her back feels like it's broken in two, she knows school isn't the only stressful thing her body's responding to.

She thinks dating an older guy is great. Dating Harry is great. Until moments like this, when he somehow forgets that people — including his girlfriend — need to work to get certain things in life, and that they won't just be given an entire company a month after graduation. She doesn't doubt that he understands that on some level, but from the perspective of a partner — well, she thinks he's being pretty insensitive.

Her fingers twitch at her sides in class as she tries her best to pay attention, wanting nothing more to grab her phone from her bag to see if he's texted her. Midway through the day, though, there's still nothing. She can't believe he still hasn't apologized for how he acted the previous night, and it only makes anger fester in her chest even more.

Finally, by the time she trudges home in the cold (December is nearing, and with that comes miserable gusts of wind and flurries of snow), she's had it with his silent treatment. She's barely through the door when she decides that she'll be the one to break the tension — only, when she kicks her shoes off at the door, she notices that her kitchen and living room lights are on, and she surely turned them off before heading out this morning.

Gripping her phone in her hand, she quietly tip-toes out of the entryway, nervous that there's some sort of... homely intruder eating her snacks or watching TV. Instead, she gasps out in shock, clutching her chest when her eyes fall on none other than Harry.

"What the fuck?!" Mia exclaims, her heart thumping quickly with anxiety. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you."

She squints her eyes, feeling her eyebrows nearly shoot up to her forehead. "So you call. Or text. Not break into my house!"

"You gave me a spare key, Mia—"

"That's for emergencies!" she shouts, suddenly feeling like the living room is slowly getting smaller and closing in on her.

"But you never would've let me come over—"

"Harry, I was literally about to call you when I walked in the door. I'm still mad at you for last night! And you're only making me angrier by being here!"

Tears well up in her eyes as she spits the words out at him. She never thought she'd be in this position with him — it hurts her to even verbalize her anger.

"Wait," Harry stands from the couch, a furrow in his brows as he crosses his arms over the button-up he likely wore to work today, "You're mad at me?"

Mia stares back at him like he has two heads.

"Yes," she slowly replies. "Do not tell me you're mad at me."

His throat bobs. "Yeah. I am."

"For what?!" her anger festers in her chest all over again, exploding like an overflowing pot of boiling water.

"You— you haven't been around lately. You haven't been spending time with me or treating me like a priority."

She squints her eyes, her fingertips finding her temples as an ache begins to settle at the sides of her head. With a shake of her head, she turns around, stomping back towards the entryway of her apartment.

"You need to go," she decides, not even bothering to shed her jacket off yet, "I can't talk to you right now. You're being incredibly unreasonable."

"So you just want to walk away, then? We're not gonna solve anything, we're just gonna keep ignoring each other?"

"I was never ignoring you! I was waiting for you to apologize to me, only to find out that you think I'm in the wrong!"

Harry scoffs as he follows her down the hallway. "Well, I'm not leaving. I want to fix things. And I'm not going until we do."

"Is your approach to annoy me into apologizing?" Mia snaps.

"No," he mutters with a roll of his eyes, "Maybe we're both just being emotional."

She shrugs her shoulders.

"Do you still want me to go?"

Mia shifts her stance from foot to foot. With a noisy sigh, she shakes her head before mumbling out, "No. Let's just... talk about it."

He nods. There's a silence lulling between them as she stands with her back pressed against the wall, stubbornness apparent as she crosses her arms over her chest. He swallows and rolls his lips into a thin line.

"I'm sorry for coming over unannounced. That was very immature of me and crossing a boundary. I wasn't thinking, I just wanted to see you."

She keeps her eyes on the floor. "I just wish you'd texted or called instead. I waited all day to hear from you."

"I'm sorry," Harry repeats, his sock-clad feet taking a hesitant step closer to her, "It makes me feel stupid, how needy I can get. I know we're both busy with our own lives but I adore you, Mi. And I hate being away from you."

"I hate it, too," she mumbles, her bottom lip slightly pouted. "And you're not stupid for being needy... I just need you to understand that I'm working hard trying to get my education, and I need you to respect when I'm stressed or busy."

"I will. I'll do better."

She glances up to look at him. He looks tired, his eyes sad. With a quiet sigh, she lifts her hand to press her palm against his warm cheek. The prickles of his facial hair serve as a harsh juxtaposition from the soft skin beneath.

"I'm sorry, too. I never want you to feel like I don't care or I don't want to be with you. I just get so overwhelmed."

"I understand," Harry coos, wrapping a hand around her wrist to bring it to his mouth. He presses light kisses into her palm. "I know you care. I have to work on being more secure in our relationship."

Mia hums at his kisses, his gentle nature a welcomed change from their arguing.

"You know, you could always move closer," she murmurs with a smirk. He chuckles.

"Yeah. Or you could always just move in."

She rolls her eyes, "Then I'd really never get any work done."

"Mm, but think about how nice it'd be," he mumbles, slipping an arm around her waist to pull her closer. "I'd cook you dinner all the time, bring you snacks and tea while you study... you'd have your own office, of course. We could get a dog or a cat, too. Share a bed every night... you wouldn't have to use travel sizes of all your skincare stuff either, because everything would be there already."

She smiles to herself as she leans her head on his shoulder. The thought is nice. So nice. But they both know it's too early in their relationship, regardless of how deeply they feel for one another. Maybe it's a dream to work up to — a sweet, domestic life together.

"And you know what would be the best part?" she asks, brushing her lips up against the shell of his ear.

"Hm?"

"I'd get to use your heated bathroom floors every day."

#bestie asks #this took FOREVER #sorrrryyyy hehe #sugar daddy h #writing

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sugarsnappeases · 1 month

Text

WHO UP LILYROSEKILLING THEMSELVES?!

if yes, i have (unedited, be nice to me) snippetty-snip ❤️

When she turns to look at them again, inevitable really, a sort of irresistible pull - she’s curious about them, fascinated for some reason, inexplicably drawn to them - they aren’t in the booth anymore. Instead, her eyes find them out on the dance floor, which has filled considerably in the couple of hours since she’s been here - she’s sure it must be after midnight by now, and the whole place is bustling. There’s still quite a bit of space on the dance floor though, despite all the people, and the two men aren’t using any of it; they exist entirely in each other’s personal space, hands everywhere, dancing, or grinding really, so close together that they almost look like one conjoined creature.

The blond has his hands in the jeans backpocket of the lanky one, who has his face buried in the blond’s neck, folded over him in a way that should look comical but is making Lily blush a little. It’s just - intimate, they’re entirely in their own world, clearly obsessed with each other, devoted, and Lily thinks that’s something that she would really quite like to experience for herself. Maybe James had been obsessed with her, the way he chased after her for years, but she thought that he had probably been more obsessed with the idea of her than who she actually was, not that she really allowed anyone to see who she actually was back then, but anyway these two, out on the dance floor, are obsessed with each other in a way that ran deeper than appearances and expectations.

They’re obsessed with each other down to the very marrow, cutting each other open and revelling in, revering, every drop of blood that spills, she thinks that they would probably let each other be messy and selfish and angry and cruel and awful and that they would look at the rot that lived inside the other, the knives, the imperfection, and still never let them go, still worship the ground they walked on. Lily didn’t actually know them, but looking at them - the blond one’s hands moving out of the jeans’ pockets and moving to slide under their waistband instead, the lanky one bringing a hand up and running it through the blond one’s hair, pulling his head back to lock their lips together - she’s sure that she’s right.

She’s also probably jealous, and projecting, and delusional.

And drunk.

It’s the last of these factors that makes her think fuck it, maybe she doesn’t need to try and forget about them, maybe she can down her drink, leave the guy who’s name she still can’t remember at the bar, and head out onto the dancefloor.

More than the alcohol, she’s also promised herself that she’s going to try new things and do what she wants without waiting for permission from some impossible higher power, and what she wants right now is to slide herself in between these two men and hope that they’ll decide to worship the ground that she walks on too.

It’s something visceral, the way she wants them, something she doesn’t think she’s ever fully felt about a person, or people, before, that kind of instinctive hungering that makes her want to dig her fingernails into their skin and never let go, makes her want to become a part of their conjoined creature, to make a monstrosity - a freak, Petunia would say, but Lily likes the sound of it this time, because she is feeling a little freaky, and maybe there’s nothing wrong with that.

She isn’t entirely sure how she manages it, what with the way they’re plastered against each other, with the way they’re dancing and kissing and clinging to each other, there shouldn’t be room for anything between the two of them. Maybe they see her coming and separate slightly, or maybe she forces them apart and works her way in herself, but either way she ends up standing between the two of them, the lanky one behind her and the blond in front of her. The top two buttons of the blond’s shirt are now undone and it’s making her feel a little weak in the knees as one set of hands settles on her hips and another wraps around her waist. He smiles at her, bright, white teeth, and his eyes, level with hers as she stands in her heels, are a piercing blue, that same curiosity mixed with something a little more feral.

“We were hoping you’d come over,” he says, and if the three of them weren’t pressed together so tightly she thinks she might have fallen over then, because that’s an entirely unfair thing to say to her. As it is, the lanky one is draping himself over her in the same way that he had been draping himself over the blond earlier and really, if they felt her sway a little in their arms she was sure she could just pretend she was dancing.

It’s a little overwhelming, how immediately connected she feels to them, in the way those blue eyes are staring into hers, and in the way there are hands holding her like she’s something precious, a treasure, and in the way there’s a chin resting on her shoulder now; the two men welcoming her into their dynamic like she was made to fit there, in between them. She thinks she could get addicted to it, obsessed with it, very easily - it might even have happened already.

She leans back against the chest of the lanky one, turning her head to try and get his face in her line of vision. His eyes are a greenish sort of hazel, glinting with that same intensity that seems to exist in everything these two do, and she smiles at him as he moves his head to look at her better.

“I kinda wanna kiss your boyfriend, if you don’t mind,” she says, smile turning into a grin, once again thinking fuck it and turning back to face the blond one before the lanky one can reply, lifting her hands to tangle them in his hair, mussing it up more, pulling his face to hers and pressing their lips together.

#ah yes. my favourite ship *checks notes* the blond one and the lanky one #this is after midnight lilyrosekiller if you couldn't tell so LOOK SUDE LOOK #literally look at me go i was starting to think they would never actually get to interact w the way lily kept making me dive into her mind #anyway this is for my lilyrosekillers out there hope you're feeling as sexy as ik that you are xoxoxo #lilyrosekiller #kara’s snippets

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dipplinduo · 6 days

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How would you rank the gens?

Ope I feel like I'm gonna upset some people LOL so disclaimer remember these are just my takes.

But this is how I personally see them (counting remakes as being part of the gen they remaking):

Gen 9 - Paldea Region

I've been thinking about this since the games came out, so I'd like to say recency bias isn't as much of a factor here. Bugs aside, I genuinely, genuinely love the storytelling, characterizations, and open world approach. FRIENDS THAT FEEL LIKE ACTUAL FRIENDS?? HAVING THE LEGENDARY WITH YOU THE WHOLE TIME, AND IT TOO HAS A PERSONALITY & BACKSTORY??? THREE SEPERATE STORYLINES THAT CONNECT TO A CANONICALLY DEAD PROFESSOR AND AN "EVIL AI" FINAL BOSS??? Like omg. I was amazed. I honestly usually dislike the "gimmicks" each generation brings, but terastilization caught my interest and I have a strong feeling nothing will personally top it as a gimmick for me. The DLCs really sent it all home for me for the #1 spot, like oh my god LOL. Past DLCs always just felt like something extra, but I literally cannot see this game as being complete without Kieran, Carmine & the rest of Kitakami/Blueberry peeps & their storylines. My interest in the games only grew because of all of it - and that's a massive compliment given the fact of how hard it is to accomplish such a level of monumental significance with only a few hours of gameplay. I've yet to replay the game with earlier access to The Teal Mask, but I feel like this would make it even more immersive. Just pure chef kisses here.

Gen 2 - Johto Region

A very close second. Heartgold/Soulsilver is the most elite remake in existence and idc if it's old school, I'll die on this hill. Johto is just so full of life - the continuation story is amazing, the immersion into culture and legendary stuff??? Mwah. Silver is an excellent rival, RED being a thing (the ultimate level of iconicism), and the double region will always hit. The soundtracks HIT and my god hearing them remastered iS INCREDIBLE. I even get obsessed with the pokeathlon dome and I'm usually not someone who gets into that kind of stuff. But THEY MADE IT FUN. And I love all the cute activities you can do with your team that can follow you around. So glad they brought this feature back. :')

Gen 5 - Unova Region

Oooooh I loved the reset of Gen 5. It's based on where I'm from and there were so many refreshing aspects of Black & White. From the new pokemon, to the NYC culture, to N & the whole beautiful storytelling there, and a sequel that somehow made everything even MORE polished. I literally remember referring to this region as the "Isshu Region" before the English names dropped becuase of the hype LOL. 10/10, cannot wait for these remakes. Gamefreak don't mess this up.

Gen 4 - Sinnoh Region

Oh, Gen 4. You hit good. The lowkey dreary vibes of Sinnoh is very nostalgic to me, and Piplup is one of my best buddies. Cynthia being the very first female Champion, and being as fearsome as she is, was such a big deal to me. Definetely Barbie'd her a bit in my mind because I look a like her and loved how much of an academic she was (but I def do not have her length in hair, lmao). Soundtracks are fire, of course. The way legendaries were integrated in the story without going too Dragonball Z was IMMACULATE, and the lake trio will always be my fave lil buddies. The only con I'd give this gen is that I disliked the HM reliance & D/P are practically unplayable to me since Platinum exists. I had low bars for the remake once I heard it wasn't Platinum, and ugh, they really dropped the ball. HOWEVER: while it isn't main line, I fucking love Legends: Arceus and would rather have that over an excellent remake, tbh.

Gen 1 - Kanto Region

This is another nostalgia one for me because of the fact that I quite literally was introduced to pokemon since before I can recall most memories (this is what happens when you have an older sibling with a gameboy, lol). It's probably tied with Gen 4, tbh. Firered wasn't my first game, but it hit really good because I "played" so much of R/B/Y. I know Gen 1 has its faults, and it's often seen as being pretty bare bones in comparison to other generations. And while I completely agree, god damn, what a good foundation for a franchise. Every town had a personality to it and is very memorable to me. The soundtracks are FIRE. Smaller pokedex, but damn does team building hit (and the starters are elite). Blue was also consistently my favorite rival until Kieran, lol. #oldrivalshipping/conflictingshipping was the original OTP xD

Gen 7 - Alola Region

So there's a lot of things I liked about Gen 7. It took a really big risk by breaking the formula, and it really immersed me into the Hawaiian culture & seeing your pokemon more as friends. I loved looking at pokemon in a different way and some of the pokemon introduced in this region are among my favorites (e.g. Ribombee, Bewear, Shiinotic, Mimikyu, Rockaruff, to name a few; starters also HIT). NEBBY AND LILLIE ARE ELITE. The professor is so lit, and Team Skull is the funniest team organization alive. AND YES, GET RID OF THE HMS. I honestly think a remake would make this gen jump up a bit more for me - the 3DS could barely handle this game, and it was showing. The facial expressions also need some work LOL, and I honestly dread the tutorial of the game. I like the ultrabeasts conceptually, but the execution of their involvement in the game is very DragonBall Z-ified. Ultra Necrozma lowkey would've been an amazing time for a "light" type even if it didn't make much sense, but hey, it was an awesome nuzlocke-killing moment anyway. xD

Gen 8 - Galar Region

I actually have a lot of play time for this gen. I was very obsessed with it when it came out, and could probably get glued to it all the same nowadays. But in hindsight, I realize a lot of my attachment to it was because of the semi-open worldness & ability to create a lot of different kinds of teams with a lot of new and old pokemon I like (I also liked having access to things earlier, like Ice Types before the end of the game lmfao). I still have a few things I really enjoy outside of it, though, like Hop's storyline & the setup of the gyms being in this stadium, sports-esque setting. But the plot? Eh. I have a lot of constructive criticism on how some shortcuts were made, and especially with the whole darkest day stuff lol. The only thing I liked about that fight was the dogs coming in and being cool; I wasn't impressed by or interest in Eternatus at all. The Leon fight afterward was fun, though! But oof, those weird men with the sword and shield hair afterwards were also just...no. :D DLCs also didn't quite hit that hard - it was more about having more pokemon than anything for me. So overall, it's fun to play, but I'd definitely change up the plot to make it better.

Gen 3 - Hoenn Region

This is where I think some people might wanna fight me, and to that I say you're probably valid. I don't know what it is with the Hoenn region because I actually don't have too many critiques about it (e.g., let's have less water routes); I just have never been able to get into it quite the same as I can others. I should honestly give it another shot, but I think I'd wanna do Emerald over Omega Ruby/Sapphire given the route they took everything with the remake lol. That's about all I have to say on this one since I never really connected with it as much!

Gen 6 - Kalos Region

This one feels like an especially hot take to have atm given where the pokemon community is in general LOL. Critical opinions ahead......Listen...no offense, but Gen 6 just ain't it for me at all. xD It's probably the one gen I actively dislike. The games felt way too easy with too much hand-holding/handouts, Team Flare & Diantha were a joke (and I'm not even a competitive player), and the whole group of friends felt more like an annoyance to me more than anything. They just weren't flushed out right. Neither was the plot. Like what was that plot. Outside of that, a lot of things just felt like "Look! Pokemon is in 3D now!!" over and over again because of how rushed the game was. So other than introducing fairy types & having pretty protagonists with some new clothing options, this gen is pretty forgettable to me. And that's a shame, because I like pokemon! I was one of those people who were curious on if we were gonna connect to Kalos for Gen 9, but I'd geniunely pick the DLCs we got any day of the week. I don't think Legends ZA will change much of my opinion on the mainline game, but given how much I loved Legends Arceus, I'm hoping it can be used to retcon & generate more interest/connection to the Kalos region in general.

Again, these are all just my personal opinions. I hope you all can enjoy pokemon in any way that feels good for you :) <3

#asks #pokemon

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luverts · 2 years

Text

a helping hand - daniel ricciardo

plot: you've always been close friends with Daniel's sister, so when you're asked to babysit one night, how can you say no? while you're babysitting, daniel makes a surprise visit, unaware that you'd be over. you and daniel have never gotten along, but can you suck it up for one night?

pairings: daniel ricciardo x reader warnings: language. light angst. smut. praising. unprotected. both!receiving. light fluff. word count: 1.8k

disclaimer: some aspects were made up for the sake of this. no thoughts: just daniel being good with kids. like and reblog!!!

“Well, isn’t this a surprise?”

You never shut a door so fast. Right outside of Michelle’s home was her stupid and smirking brother. Daniel held gift bags for his niece and nephew while you held back curse words as the kids ran up to the door, asking who it was.

“Come on, y/n, I barely see them,” he pleaded from the other side of the door, and you had to take a deep breath before making your next move.

You mumbled a ‘for fucks sake’ before opening the door. “Don’t expect anything nice from me again.” You averted eye contact with the driver as he walked in with the energy of a 5-year-old.

“Uncle Daniel!” The kids couldn’t help but squeal when they saw their uncle. But which kid wouldn’t when there are presents involved? You couldn’t deny the cuteness factor when he dropped the bags to pick up the two giggling children, but you weren’t there to watch Daniel’s uncle skills; you were there to help Michelle.

"Alright, Isabella has to go to bed. Keep an eye on Isaac in the meantime, would you?"

“See, what would you do without me?” Daniel spoke in a way that made his nephew burst into laughter as you picked up the little girl and headed off to put her to sleep.

You rolled your eyes at his comment. “Keep the noise down and try not to excite him too much while you’re at it. He’s next.”

“You got it, boss.”

After 30 minutes of trying to get Isabella to sleep, you quietly tiptoed out of the room, exhausted and desperate to get the little boy to bed so that you could get some rest.

You were ready for another half hour of suffering when the first thing you saw in the living room was Isaac asleep on the couch, in his uncle's arms, while Daniel watched TV. For a second, you felt grateful that the driver was there until you noticed the mess of new race car toys on the floor that you would have to clean up.

Daniel’s eyes shifted to you as he watched you walk in and kneel to the ground to clean up the toys. “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.”

You were surprised to hear his voice but even more startled by the rough, tiredness of it and convinced yourself that you must be overly exhausted too since his tone made you feel some way.

You ignored him, continuing to put the toys in the bag. “It’s fine. You should probably get going anyway.”

“You sure?”

You looked up at him, done cleaning the mess and eagerly lay down at the end of the couch. “The kids are sleeping, and your sister will be home in 2 hours. Why else would you stay?”

“I can wait 2 hours.” You rolled your eyes at his reply. “Besides, who else is going to keep you company?”

“Go home, Daniel.”

“I am home, sweetheart.” The nickname made you throw a pillow at his head, carefully trying to avoid the sleeping child in between. “Yeah, I think it’s better if I do stay before you give anyone else a pillow concussion.”

You scoffed at his comment but couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. Daniel didn’t stop to notice it too.

The story of you disliking each other started in high school. You were a year younger than Daniel but closer with his older sister since she tutored you in math. Despite that, you were more of a quiet kid, while Daniel was one of the most outgoing. When you started to gain some popularity in year 11, that was when Daniel began his pursuit to make you his. Although that didn't end well since you thought he was a dick the way he approached you, and Daniel was bitter because you were then known as the girl who rejected the Daniel Ricciardo.

Though after facing many more rejections over the years, Daniel came to accept it. While you still found him to be the same insufferable asshole from when you were 17 years old.

“So, how long has it been?” He asked the rough, tired tone of his voice still very much there.

“I’m not putting myself through small talk with you, Dan.” His eyes quirked up at the familiar nickname, and you rolled your eyes again, mad at your fuck up and knew he wasn’t going to let go of this one.

“Come on, sweetheart. Just talk to me.” As Daniel said that, Isaac began to move, and you froze, saying a silent prayer that he wouldn’t wake up. “I’ll put him in his bed, then we’ll continue this conversation.” He offered, and you stayed quiet as the driver slowly picked the little boy up and brought him to his room.

You watched as he paid close attention to not waking Isaac up and how his body reacted when the little boy leaned on him. A feeling of warmth took over you. “Whatever,” you whispered more to yourself and your thoughts.

Daniel was quick to return, sitting back down in the corner of the L-shaped couch, grinning because he was excited to talk to you since it’s been a while. His smile faltered when he saw you about to doze off.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, testing the waters to see if you were asleep.

“What?” you groaned, still fully awake and upset about the sleep intrusion.

Daniel softly chuckled. “Cranky?”

“Don’t test me.” You tried to get comfortable on the couch, but it was no use.

So when Daniel pulled you into his body, your head softly landing on his chest and you finally felt a sense of comfort, you had no energy to move. “All comfortable, sweetheart?”

“Don’t ruin this, Dan,” you mumbled, making the driver chuckle.

After a few minutes passed, Daniel started to trace circles on your hip, causing you to stretch your leg over him. To add, you nuzzled into his chest, and your body fully leaned on his. In all honesty, you were utterly unaware of how turned on it was making him.

All hell broke loose when you moved on top of him a bit more. His hand held onto your waist before you could do any more damage, but that was practically self-sabotage since you opened your eyes at the touch. It was impossible not to notice the aroused state of the driver. He was hard, and there was no stopping it.

“Daniel,” you softly spoke, your heart rate picking up and your senses getting mixed up.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he gulped, his joking demeanour suddenly gone due to the fear that he may have completely ruined everything.

However, Daniel wasn’t entirely doomed. Earlier, whenever you closed your eyes, fantasies about Daniel doing unspeakable things to your body would take over. And that wasn’t the worst of it. The thoughts started to get to you, and one of the reasons you were so uncomfortable before was because you were getting so worked up.

When you and Daniel made eye contact, it didn’t take long to realize that you both wanted this. Daniel didn’t waste a second before lifting your chin up and connecting your lips with his.

The kiss was rough and full of energy, contrasting to what you both were feeling just a few seconds ago. You got settled on Daniel's lap, legs wrapped around his thighs as you straddled him. His hands went straight to your waist as yours tangled up in his hair. When he gently sucked on your bottom lip, you tugged at his curls which caused him to pull your body closer to his.

“Daniel,” you quietly moaned, and you could both hear the plead for him to continue in your voice. This couldn’t be happening. But you needed it to happen.

“Right here, sweetheart.” You were getting wetter by the second, and the clothes between you were merely irritating. He didn’t miss a beat as his hand stroked your ass and urged you down on his hard-on. “Tell me what you need.”

“Please,” was all you could come up with as Daniel’s fingers gently skimmed under your shirt and made your entire body shiver. The both of you couldn’t believe how desperate you were for this, tightly clenching on nothing and craving the filled-up feeling.

You didn’t hesitate to unbutton and unzip Daniel’s jeans, your lips still caught up with his. The kiss was getting deeper, his tongue pushing into your mouth before he broke away to flip you under him.

You lay back on the couch, biting your lip as you watched Daniel intently as he took his time to pull your bottoms off and licked his lips when he had you completely bare.

“You are so fucking edible, sweetheart,” he practically moaned as he could see your wetness dripping and couldn’t wait any longer to savour the taste he’d been missing his whole life.

The second his tongue made contact with your core, your head fell back, your eyes rolled, and the sensation of absolute bliss consumed you as Daniel lapped his tongue through your folds while one of his fingers plunged inside you. Daniel’s other hand had to cover your mouth to quiet down your glass-shattering moans that he still desperately wanted to hear.

He had you cumming on his tongue in minutes, the hand over your mouth not being enough to block out the screams of pleasure that left your lips.

It wasn’t long after that Daniel had you bent over on the couch, fucking you hard, clenching around his cock, and seeing stars from the number of times he had made you cum. Sweet praises constantly left his lips, saying ‘you’re doing so good for me,’ ‘you take me so well,’ ‘just like that,” and, of course, the constant use of his nickname for you ‘cum all over my cock, sweetheart,’ ‘you’re breathtaking, sweetheart.’

Daniel ended up cumming in your mouth. You were just as frantic to have him in your mouth as he did with your pussy. A mix of profanities and your name blurted out as he came down your throat, a groan following as he watched you swallow it all. You were by far the hottest fuck he had in his life, and he couldn't stop his pent-up feelings for you from returning.

As you lay cuddled on the couch, post getting cleaned up, dressed, and doing your best to tidy up the area, you knew this couldn’t be more than a one-night thing. But regardless, you ended up thinking about it until you fell asleep.

You melted when you woke up the next day, still wrapped in Daniel’s warm arms, but feeling groggy and unstable as you attempted to walk to the bathroom.

Heading back into the kitchen, you not so gracefully tripped and could hear Michelle chuckle as she shook her head in disbelief. Daniel shot you a grin as you joined the two for a coffee, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe him being an asshole wasn't so bad after all.

—

@blondedona my saviour for helping me with the ending. feedback??? like and reblog!!!

#formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #daniel ricciardo #dr3 #f1 drivers #f1 fanfic #f1 smut

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