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aeth-eris · 19 days ago

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★ skin care & the ascendant ★

★ aries rising

aries rising often has active, oily, or acne-prone skin due to mars’ influence. their skin may be prone to redness, inflammation, and occasional breakouts, especially under stress or during hormonal changes.

skincare tip: use calming products with anti-inflammatory ingredients like chamomile, green tea, or aloe vera. incorporate a salicylic acid cleanser and clay mask to control oil and reduce breakouts. finish with a lightweight, non-comedogenic moisturizer.

★ mars aspecting the ascendant: oily, acne-prone, prone to redness or irritation

influence: mars’s fiery energy can lead to oilier, acne-prone skin that’s prone to redness, inflammation, and sensitivity. skin may react quickly to products or environmental changes and can be prone to breakouts during periods of stress or hormonal fluctuation.

skincare tips: use a salicylic acid or tea tree oil cleanser to control oil production and reduce breakouts. soothing ingredients, such as chamomile or green tea, can calm inflammation. a weekly clay mask is helpful for oil control, and a non-comedogenic moisturizer maintains balance without clogging pores.

★ taurus rising

taurus rising tends to have soft, clear skin, but they can struggle with oiliness, particularly in the t-zone. their skin may be resilient but prone to sensitivity with hormonal fluctuations.

skincare tip: balance oil production with a mild exfoliating cleanser containing glycolic acid. opt for hydrating serums with hyaluronic acid and a lightweight moisturizer that won’t clog pores. they may benefit from calming masks with ingredients like cucumber or rosewater to soothe the skin.

★ venus aspecting the ascendant: soft, balanced, beauty-focused, prone to hormonal changes

influence: venus adds softness and balance to the skin, often resulting in a smooth, well-toned complexion. however, venus-influenced skin can be sensitive to hormonal shifts and may break out during menstrual cycles.

skincare tips: maintain a gentle, hydrating skincare routine with a pH-balanced cleanser and a lightweight moisturizer. a rosewater toner or hyaluronic acid serum can keep skin plump and hydrated. consider products with evening primrose or tea tree oil to address hormonal breakouts as they arise.

★ gemini rising

gemini rising often has sensitive or combination skin that changes frequently, reflecting mercury’s influence on adaptability. their skin may react to environmental stress, leading to occasional dryness or breakouts.

skincare tip: maintain a simple, gentle skincare routine to avoid overstimulating the skin. use a fragrance-free cleanser and hydrating toner to balance the skin. avoid over-exfoliating, and opt for lightweight moisturizers to accommodate their combination skin.

★ mercury aspecting the ascendant: changeable, sensitive to stress, prone to inconsistencies

influence: mercury brings variability, so skin may appear inconsistent, with changes in texture, sensitivity, or breakouts that correlate with stress levels. mercury-affected skin can also be sensitive and reactive to environmental conditions.

skincare tips: keep a simple, adaptable skincare routine. a fragrance-free, gentle cleanser helps avoid irritation, while a lightweight moisturizer provides hydration without overwhelming the skin. consider adding a stress-relief serum or adaptogenic ingredients like reishi mushroom to calm skin during stressful periods.

★ cancer rising

cancer rising has delicate, reactive skin that often reflects emotional and hormonal changes. they may experience sensitivity, puffiness, or dryness, particularly around hormonal cycles.

skincare tip: use hydrating, gentle products that provide nourishment without irritation. milk or cream-based cleansers work well, along with soothing serums containing hyaluronic acid or ceramides. lymphatic facial massage can help reduce puffiness and promote circulation.

★ moon aspecting the ascendant: sensitive, reactive, prone to dryness

influence: the moon’s nurturing energy can make skin highly sensitive and reactive, particularly to hormonal and emotional changes. moon aspects often result in soft but easily irritated or dry skin that fluctuates with mood.

skincare tips: use gentle, hydrating products, such as a milk or cream-based cleanser, and a rich moisturizer with ingredients like hyaluronic acid. calming serums with chamomile or aloe can soothe the skin, especially during hormonal shifts. practice regular hydration to maintain balance.

★ leo rising

leo rising typically has radiant, warm skin with a natural glow. however, they may experience occasional sun sensitivity, dryness, or hormonal breakouts, particularly if they spend a lot of time in the sun.

skincare tip: protect the skin with a high-spf sunscreen daily, especially if sun exposure is frequent. incorporate hydrating serums with vitamin c for brightness, and add a gentle exfoliant to keep skin smooth. a weekly hydrating mask can enhance their natural glow.

★ sun aspecting the ascendant: vibrant, prone to sun sensitivity and pigmentation

influence: the sun brings vitality and warmth, often giving a natural glow to the skin. however, it may also make the skin more sensitive to the sun, prone to pigmentation, and reactive to environmental factors.

skincare tips: incorporate a daily high-spf sunscreen to protect against uv damage. products with antioxidants, like vitamin c or e, can help maintain brightness and prevent pigmentation. a hydrating serum will keep the skin looking radiant and healthy.

★ virgo rising

virgo rising often has sensitive, combination skin that may react to stress or environmental changes. they can experience occasional breakouts and uneven skin texture, particularly in times of heightened stress.

skincare tip: use a gentle, pH-balanced cleanser to prevent stripping natural oils, and incorporate a soothing toner with chamomile or calendula. niacinamide can help even skin texture and manage oil production. simplicity is key, so avoid complex routines that may irritate sensitive skin.

★ mercury aspecting the ascendant: changeable, sensitive to stress, prone to inconsistencies

★ libra rising

libra rising typically has balanced, soft skin that is naturally beautiful but may be prone to hormonal changes, leading to periodic breakouts. venus’ influence brings a focus on skin appearance, so they’re often aware of any imperfections.

skincare tip: focus on balancing hydration with a pH-balanced, gentle cleanser and a lightweight moisturizer. use products with rose or lavender to soothe and nourish. they may also benefit from occasional exfoliation with ahas to maintain a smooth texture and natural glow.

★ venus aspecting the ascendant: soft, balanced, beauty-focused, prone to hormonal changes

★ scorpio rising

scorpio rising often has intense, resilient skin but may be prone to acne or oily patches, especially around hormonal shifts. their skin can be sensitive to strong treatments, despite its durability.

skincare tip: use a deep-cleaning cleanser with salicylic acid to manage oil and prevent breakouts. a gentle clay mask can help reduce oil buildup, and soothing ingredients like aloe vera or tea tree oil can calm inflammation. avoid overly harsh exfoliants, as their skin can react strongly.

★ pluto aspecting the ascendant: intense, resilient, but prone to hormonal acne or hyperpigmentation

influence: pluto’s transformative energy often leads to resilient skin that’s capable of healing but can also be prone to deep, hormonal acne and hyperpigmentation. pluto-influenced skin may experience intense reactions to stress and can be affected by powerful hormonal shifts.

skincare tips: use a gentle, hormone-balancing cleanser with ingredients like salicylic acid to control breakouts. niacinamide and vitamin c serums can help reduce hyperpigmentation and even skin tone. regular exfoliation with ahas or bhas keeps pores clear, while a lightweight moisturizer balances hydration.

★ sagittarius rising

sagittarius rising often has vibrant, healthy skin but may struggle with oiliness, clogged pores, and occasional breakouts, especially from adventure or outdoor exposure. their skin may be prone to dryness or irritation from environmental factors.

skincare tip: incorporate a balancing cleanser with gentle exfoliants like lactic acid to clear pores. a hydrating, oil-free moisturizer works best to balance skin without clogging pores. they should always use sunscreen for outdoor activities to protect from uv exposure.

★ jupiter aspecting the ascendant: glowing, larger pores, oily, prone to breakouts

influence: jupiter’s expansive energy often gives a glowing complexion but can also result in oily skin and larger pores, making the skin prone to congestion and breakouts. the “abundance” of sebum may lead to shininess and clogged pores.

skincare tips: a mild exfoliating cleanser with glycolic or lactic acid can help minimize pores and control oil. use a clay mask once a week to manage excess sebum. a lightweight, oil-free moisturizer and mattifying products will reduce shine while keeping the skin hydrated and balanced.

★ capricorn rising

capricorn rising often has dry, mature, or sensitive skin, as saturn’s influence emphasizes structure and durability. they may be prone to dry patches, fine lines, or tightness, especially in harsh weather conditions.

skincare tip: focus on deep hydration with a rich moisturizer containing ceramides and hyaluronic acid to restore moisture. use a gentle, hydrating cleanser and avoid harsh exfoliants. consider products with peptides or squalane to promote elasticity and maintain a youthful appearance.

★ saturn aspecting the ascendant: dry, sensitive, prone to aging signs

influence: saturn’s restrictive energy can lead to dry, tight, or sensitive skin that’s prone to fine lines and aging signs. saturn-influenced skin may require careful maintenance to prevent dehydration and sensitivity to harsh weather conditions.

skincare tips: prioritize hydration with a rich, nourishing moisturizer containing ceramides and squalane. use a gentle, hydrating cleanser, and incorporate peptides or hyaluronic acid serums to maintain elasticity and moisture. a daily mineral sunscreen will help protect against premature aging.

★ aquarius rising

aquarius rising may have unique, sometimes unpredictable skin that can alternate between dry and oily. they may experience sudden breakouts or sensitivity, especially in reaction to environmental changes or stress.

skincare tip: use a gentle, fragrance-free cleanser to prevent irritation and follow with a lightweight moisturizer for balance. ingredients like hyaluronic acid and niacinamide can help maintain hydration and calm sensitive skin. avoid products with unnecessary chemicals, as their skin may react to synthetic ingredients.

★ uranus aspecting the ascendant: unpredictable, prone to sudden breakouts or sensitivity

influence: uranus brings an unpredictable quality to the skin, making it prone to sudden changes, breakouts, or reactions. uranus-influenced skin may be sensitive to new products or environmental changes and can switch between dryness and oiliness.

skincare tips: keep routines simple and consistent, avoiding excessive changes. use a fragrance-free, hypoallergenic cleanser and lightweight moisturizer with calming ingredients, like chamomile or niacinamide. products with adaptogens can help manage sensitivity, and an anti-inflammatory serum can reduce unexpected irritation.

★ pisces rising

pisces rising often has delicate, sensitive skin that may react to allergens, fragrances, or environmental factors. they may experience dehydration, redness, or sensitivity to harsh ingredients.

skincare tip: stick to a minimal, hypoallergenic routine, using a gentle, fragrance-free cleanser and lightweight moisturizer with soothing ingredients like aloe vera or oat extract. incorporating hydrating serums with hyaluronic acid can help maintain moisture. they should avoid overly complex products that may trigger reactions.

★ neptune aspecting the ascendant: sensitive, allergy-prone, prone to redness or dehydration

influence: neptune brings a heightened sensitivity, often leading to delicate, allergy-prone skin. it’s easily irritated by harsh ingredients, fragrances, and environmental factors, and can be prone to dehydration or redness.

skincare tips: stick to hypoallergenic, fragrance-free products. a gentle cleanser and soothing moisturizer with aloe vera, cucumber, or oat extract can provide calming hydration. hyaluronic acid serums help with dehydration. avoid overly complex products, as they may trigger sensitivity or allergies.

#astrology #astrology observations #astro observations #astrology skin care #astrology beauty #ascendant

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jigeuminunbich · 1 month ago

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what a girl wants | park jisung (m)

synopsis after tapping out early into your first-time, jisung refuses to be a fool in front of you again. gathering reinforcements, he arms himself in preparation to please you when the next time comes for you both to be intimate. and boy, does he learn a lot.

genre nonidol!au (inexperienced!jisung x experienced!reader), fem!reader, mature (smut), and established relationship

minors dni, please ! (nsfw tags under the cut)

content probably needs another proof read, men explaining sex, multiple scenes of ji lasting a millisecond (jk, jk), pet-names (pretty, babe, baby), reader naturally takes on a bit of a dominate role, brief missionary, cunniligus, overstimulation, hair-pulling, unprotected probone, even more missionary, ear play + sucking, creampie, and a tiny off-hand joke about dh offering to fawk jisung

word count 6k

author’s note listen, ik virtually everyone came out of tds3 loving chenle (rightfully so) but personally, i’ve been on jisung timing since my stop teehee 🤭

I. ACT ONE

Jisung had dreamed of this moment much more than he’d care to admit to. You both had been dating for nearly a year and had yet gotten to the point of stark intimacy, well, until now.

It was breathtaking really, seeing you under him. He couldn’t believe this was his reality, that you were actually doing this with him. That was all he could think about when you first initiated it. He let you take the lead, per usual, but this time it reached a point where he was eager to agree when you asked if he was ready.

Though, at this moment, he was coming to regret that excited confirmation he had delivered earlier.

“Oh,” you verbalized from the junction of Jisung’s neck following the sudden stall in his movements. “Did you…?”

A faint whimper escapes from Jisung’s lips, visibly coming down from his evident climax. You watch as Jisung’s eyes flutter open, his face soon contorting into a look of sheer horror, dropping his head to where your bodies met to witness the scene completely for himself.

“Oh my god…” he mumbles in what you read as bewilderment, his head snapping back to speak to you.

“___, I am so sorry.” Jisung sputters out immediately.

A fond laugh fights its way through you, and you shake your head to mask it away. “No, no. It’s okay, Ji’…”

You try to comfort him, but his flushed face remains puffy with frustration. Your hands that come to coddle his bloated cheeks do little to soothe his nerves. Jisung huffs, undoubtedly upset with himself.

“Hey, look at me.” You urge his gaze to meet your own, he finds your eyes soft and a tender smile playing at your lips. Jisung finds his heart rate slowing at this, the pad of your thumb that smoothes over his tense jaw aiding in his relaxation.

“We can stop, if you want?”

Jisung inhales sharply, squeezing his eyes shut as if once he opens them back up that this moment will have never happened. But you’re still there, waiting patiently for his answer.

He thinks for a moment. There was a thought that spoke to him, to keep going as he knew how long you both had waited for this night. But the weight of his reality felt like it was physically crushing him too much to listen.

“Uh, yeah. I think that’d be best…” He answers meekly and you reluctantly nod.

His room falls silent besides from the rustling of you assisting him with pulling out and the bed creaking under his weight as he plops in the spot next to your body. You regretfully sit up after only experiencing time on your back momentarily, sparing a solemn look to Jisung who’s large hands hide his face.

“You okay?” Your voice is gentle as you probe him.

Jisung clears his throat, revealing his face briefly when he sits up on his elbows to address you. It’s painted a furious pink from what you assume is his embarrassment and shimmers with sweat. “Yeah, I just—uh— need a minute.”

Understanding of him, you decide to slip away to handle yourself. “Okay, well, I’ll be in the bathroom.”

“Mhm.” Jisung nods, watching you intently as you slide from the mattress, grabbing his once discarded tee, and trail to the nearby bathroom before disappearing behind the door.

His body meets his bed again with a thud, shielding his hot face away with his hands once again.

II. JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE

It takes a number of business days before Jisung can even work up the courage to see you in person, let alone mention what had transpired that night. The memory had been gnawing away at him since, every time he blinked, or tried to sleep, your nonplus reaction to his “premature” arrival was all he could see.

There was no way he could bring it up in conversation just yet… at least not to you.

“You what?!” Renjun exclaims in absolute horror.

“He lasted thirty seconds!” Chenle gleefully responds for Jisung, still coming down from the belly-splitting laughing fit he had just went through before informing Renjun.

Brazenly (and stupidly), Jisung had decided he was fed up with his set of circumstances— trusting his best-friend and roommate, Chenle, with the information that had landed him in this unfortunate position.

But very quickly, he realized just how much of a mistake that was.

Jisung sighs frustratedly— sparing the brunette a piercing glare before angling his attention back to Renjun, “It was more like a minute and a half…”

“Oh, Jisung, that’s still not good.” Renjun comes over, slowly sitting on the opposite side of his junior.

“I know.” Jisung physically slumps in his spot, a cutesy pout on his face.

A tight-lipped, earnest smile graces Renjun’s face and he places a comforting hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “Did you at least help her?”

Jisung asks blankly, confused. “With what?”

Renjun pauses alongside Chenle, both of them sharing a horrified look while Jisung looks between them like a neonate dear.

“You didn’t help her?!” Chenle screeches, eyes bulging and eyebrows angled in complete confusion.

“Do what?!” Jisung bellows, now frustrated.

“Jisung, even I know what you’re supposed to do for your girlfriend in the event you.. finish early…” Renjun voices deeply and careful enough for his friend’s digestion.

Jisung pauses for a moment, picking apart Renjun’s words before making a face of understanding.“I— oh, well she said she’d take care of it!”

“Still,” Renjun sighs, taking a moment to calm himself. “you’re supposed to offer, man.”

“I’ve got to tell Mark about this…” Chenle shakes his head, already typing in the group chat.

III. SECOND OPINION(S)

“Dude…”

Mark’s face is twisted in an expression Jisung can only decipher as disbelief, a common emotion he’s encountered since filling in his friend group on his situation.

“I know, I know. It’s not a good look.”

Donghyuck scoffs amusedly, having stopped in on the conversation after overhearing the absurd topic. “It’s an awful look, actually. How do you cum in thirty seconds without getting your girl off after?”

“It wasn’t—“ Jisung sighs, gathering himself. “I don’t know. I have no idea what I’m doing.” He recedes, sinking into the material of the couch that supported him, Mark, and Jaemin.

“Well, ___ knows this, right?” Jeno pipes from beside Donghyuck after remaining silent the whole debriefing session.

Jisung shifts in his spot, shrinking from the burning gazes of his friends as they wait for him to overshare. “Yeah, I mean, we talked about it before. But she has experience, and— I dunno— I thought I’d at least do okay…”

“Ah, Jisung. No ones ever perfect doing anything for the first time.” Jaemin plants a rather rough yet consoling pat on the younger’s back.

“I was.” Donghyuck interjects, a smug look on his face while shrugging his shoulders.

Renjun scoffs, shoving the back of the former’s head from his positioning— leaning over the same couch Donghyuck happened to be sprawled across. “You cried.”

“Aht!“ Donghyuck rubs his head, snapping around to correct his friend. “That was the second time!”

Mark sighs deeply, drawing the attention away from his friends’ squabble. “Jisung, have you both talked about it since?”

Jisung anxiously plays with his ear, pouting. “Well, no, even if I wanted to I just don’t know what I’d say…” It was a true concern for him. He had muddled over the scenario in his about a dozen times at this point, and every time he couldn’t find the appropriate words to say to you— even if you weren’t even really there.

“Sorry for only lasting thirty seconds?” Chenle wickedly suggests, earning yet another warning glare from Jisung.

“Ou, if you don’t know how to say it, you could always get a cake!” Donghyuck piles on, promptly earning another wack to his head— this time Jeno is the unamused culprit.

“Look, next time you see her, just be honest.” Jaemin advises, effectively drowning out the whining of his battered friend who claimed Chenle deserves the lashings because he commented first.

Jisung nods, considering it but not with another issue forming in his mind. “Okay, well… what about… you know...”

“The sex?” A handful of them chime in response.

The younger boy’s lips form a tight, shy line, obviously still finding the topic a bit taboo. “Yes, yes— that. What am I supposed to do? I don’t want a repeat of last time…”

“Just watch a bunch of porn, that’s what I did.” Donghyuck recommends, still testing his luck.

Exhausted, Renjun simply lets his eyes pierce into the back of his friend’s head for a moment before sighing.

“How about we don’t do that and just give you some pointers, hmm?”

Jisung claps his hands together, liking that nugget of advice way more than Donghyuck’s, who sits offended, tongue infamously poking his cheek.

“Okay, sounds good.”

IV. H.T.P.A.S.Y.G 101

Now, when Jisung was told that everyone would be meeting in he, Chenle, and Renjun’s shared living room to “give him pointers”, he didn’t necessarily expect to be surrounded by his friends while his television displayed a slide show.

Surprisingly, Donghyuck ran the operation with his laptop perched on the armrest on the opposite couch, even after his treatment the other night.

“Alright, Jisung, welcome to how to please and satisfy your girl 1-0-1!” Donghyuck stands at the center of the room, gesturing towards the screen that projects the title ‘H.T.P.A.S.Y.G 101’— along with throwaway stock photos of couples experiencing varied emotions.

“Woah. Did you make this?” Jisung voices, foolishly impressed with his friend’s set-up.

Donghyuck’s facials drop, “No. It was already a template on Canva.” He deadpans while Jisung makes a motion of understanding.

Collectively, his friends blink ludicrously at Jisung’s naïveté. “He made it, Jisung-ie…” Jaemin clarifies slowly.

“Ah,” the latter nods, embarrassment creeping up his skin.

Donghyuck shakes his head before putting the attention back on the screen where he flips to the next slide, automatically does Jisung pull out his phone to retain the coming information.

“Okay, first rule, don’t come in thirty seconds.”

A cacophony of snickers and tittering emerge from the group at Jisung’s expense.

“I— how long are you guys gonna run with this?” Jisung cringes, regretting all over again even including the detail of his duration.

The man in the center staggers back into his spot, pretending to wipe away fallen tears. “I’m sorry it’s too funny…”

“Now! It may seem hard but the last thing we want is a redo of what happened last time, yes?” Jisung nods shamefully, lips tight.

“Next rule, be a giver. Down the line you can find out whether or not she prefers it but to start, you wanna take charge and get your girl off.”

Jisung hums, his focus being the ever growing list on his phone-screen. Curious, Jeno peers over at him.

“A—are you seriously taking notes?” He furrows his brows at the open tab in Jisung’s notes app.

“Hey, he’s a diligent learner!” Donghyuck waves a warning finger towards Jeno before turning to reassure Jisung. “Don’t worry, Jisung, the best students study.”

He addresses his older friend’s defense of him briefly, already having questions about the lesson. “When we say… get her off— what do you mean?”

“Eat her out, Jisung.” Chenle interjects flatly.

“Oh.” Jisung’s head bobs slowly. “And how do I do that?”

The “teacher” sucks his teeth, “Christ, do we have to teach you everything?”

Jisung just blinks in response, earning a tired sigh from Donghyuck, “I’ll send you some material after class.”

“Okay.” Jisung nods.

“Third rule! Take it slow. Kind of ties back into rule one but can be used elsewhere. Listen, I know you’re a bit of a fumbling mess but at least try and make it seem like you know what you’re doing.”

Despite the directed jab, Jisung continues to diligently jot down Donghyuck’s advice.

“What does ___ like, do you know?” Mark pipes.

“Sexually?” The boy’s eyes go wide, a bit startled.

Mark snorts, “I’m not asking for her favorite food, man,”

Jisung breathes out a sheepish laugh, “Ah, well, she’s kinda sensitive around the ears…”

Donghyuck claps, startling Jisung but effectively grabbing his attention, “Alright, involve that! Kiss, lick, suck for all I care. You gotta do something that’ll turn her on, you can’t just whip your dick out and stop there, got it?”

“Got it.” Jisung re-affirms, intently copying down every word that leaves his friends’ mouths.

“Well, I think that’s enough for today,” Donghyuck nods, clearly proud of himself.

“Thank god.” Jaemin sighs exasperatedly, earning himself a warning look from Donghyuck. The latter rolls his eyes, smiling at Jisung who overviews what he’s learnt so far.

“You seem like you picked up well, I’ll quiz you after you watch the material.”

Jeno snorts, “You do know you’re not an actual teacher, right?”

Donghyuck smugly smirks, propping his hands onto his hips.

“Don’t be a hater, Jen’. If you want a lesson, you can just ask. Don’t think I forgot about what Iseul said— agh!” Swiftly, Jeno starts strangling Donghyuck to cut him off, the ladder dramatically flopping on the couch behind him and taking the older boy with him.

Using the commotion to his advantage, Renjun swoops in to take a seat next to Jisung, who quietly reviews his notes in the midst of the chaos.

“And Jisung,”

“Hmm?” The younger glances up from his notes.

“Don’t forget that the reason we’re here is because ___ likes you. Not what you can do for her in bed or any tricks these idiots are telling you to do…”

“Ah, okay.”

“I mean, we all mean well— even Donghyuck— but what matters most is that you’re yourself. That’s what ___’s most attracted to, right?”

“Yeah, I guess…” Jisung answers hesitantly.

“Right. Maybe you should watch that video Donghyuck sends you, though.” Renjun suggests a bit quieter, though his urgency remains evident.

Jisung laughs at his older friend, nodding in understanding. “Will do!”

V. ACT TWO

The next you spend genuine alone time with Jisung is two weeks following the whole incident, you’re grateful that he’s grown comfortable again with skin-ship. Missing nights like these where you two were able to wordlessly cuddle up together without an evident damper hanging over the room. Of course, you’d love to address that night. Maybe even give it another try but unless Jisung makes it clear that he’s comfortable with it, you suppress any and all thoughts about it.

Much to your liking, the night carried on like usual. No roommates to interrupt your skinship, or to witness the chaste kisses you gave each other. But in the midst of watching the second film Jisung had gladly let you choose— you realize just how touchy he’s getting.

A typical reserved hand that would be perched on your hip was playing with the hem of your shorts, igniting the bare skin with every brief graze.

Curious, you angle your head upwards on Jisung’s shoulder, immediately drawing his attention from the screen and down to you.

“You okay?” You inquire, an eyebrow raising. You tried to hide your excitement but the grin that found your features was an obvious giveaway that you were losing.

Jisung simply hums, his hands still stationed in their new territory. You nod, “Okay…” and instinctively crane your head up to signal a kiss.

Quickly, Jisung obliges, meeting you halfway and connecting your lips. Your intent was for it to be just like the other kisses that happened tonight. Quick, sweet, no alternative intent, but that was clearly not Jisung’s shared intention.

When you depart, he follows, and you have no problem in giving him what he wants. The kiss is extended, the hand on your thigh tightening in grip. You match Jisung’s vigor, equally biting at his lips and easing your tongue in his mouth when his own licks at your entrance. But you have to say you were not expecting this.

Soon, Jisung’s body was angled nearly on top of you and he showed no signs of stopping. Both hands now on your waist as he titled you backwards, still intently keeping your mouths fixed together.

“Oh, hello?” You manage to get out.

“Hi.”

Jisung takes control, which is very unusual since typically you’ll straddle him when making out. But you allow it to happen, your back meeting the bed as Jisung kisses you passionately. This kiss is much different than one you’ve ever shared with him, normally he’s way more reserved— even before your first time he was shy, but obviously a fire has been lit under him to redeem himself.

You’re the first to pull away, not moving far but just enough to be able to catch your breath. Jisung has never kissed you speechless before, but you’re okay if this was to become your new reality.

“Jisung…”

He ignores you, kissing down your neck while his large hands grope you. He's hungry, his teeth grazing against your skin in rotation with his suckling but his bruises still feel like heaven— you didn’t even know he was capable of leaving such marks.

Jisung’s cold hands are suddenly under your shirt, lifting the large garment that once belonged to him over your naked breasts. One of them even snaking down to your thin sleep shorts while the other remains to thumb at your now perked nipples.

“Oh— Jisung, wait!” Pausing your pleasure to confront your boyfriend.

He looks at you in surprise, as if he’s been caught doing something wrong.

“Are you sure about this?” You ask carefully.

“I wanna make you feel good…” he replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, you blink— slowly gathering yourself as Jisung continues to kiss down your abdomen and eventually to the center of your legs.

You stutter when you feel his hot breath on your core, it’s been so long you’ve had anything like this, you hate to say you’ve been waiting on it but fuck— you have been.

“Ji…” your hand cups the back of his nape, the other replacing his hand that once toyed with your chest.

Jisung gazes up at you, a look that reads that he’s asking you for permission. He quickly drinks up how he’s got you, shirt pushed to your over your breasts— leaving them on display, you look down at him— almost pained while you wait for his next move, lip tucked in between your teeth— a thumb to your own nipple.

Final inch of resolve snapping, Jisung flattens his warm tongue over your sleep shorts, humming instantaneously when his muscle meets the fabric. It’s lewd but he can’t help himself, especially when he encounters the already wet stain in the seat of your bottoms. He quickly gets to work, though, savagely his tongue ravishes you with one measly layer keeping him from fully tasting you.

The sight is one to see, your routinely sweet and respectful boyfriend with his head between your legs— tongue lapping and dancing around your cunt through your shorts.

You can barely take anymore, you need him. You didn’t care what his level of skill was, you needed more stimulation than this.

Jisungs jumps back a bit when you sit up to interrupt him, the shorts being slipped off. “Ji, please, please, keep going,” both of your legs are back on either side of his head, this time your bare, silky cunt on full display. No longer hidden by the baby blue bottoms.

You’re practically begging, your hips involuntarily shifting closer and closer to Jisung’s face as you wait. Jisung couldn’t believe his eyes, you’ve never really begged for him before. Not like this, so vulnerable. His tent had pitched ages ago but the strain he felt watching you now was a different kind of pain.

His newfound confidence falters a bit, wordlessly nodding up at you with wet eyes before obediently lapping at your cunt again. You throw your head back as a whimper rips through you, shifting back onto your elbows to play with your chest again. Not forgetting to keep one hand anchored in Jisung’s hair.

His movements are cautious at first, proving that this is definitely his first time but once he finds a pace that seemingly fits you best, he carries on with it. He alternates between sucking your throbbing clit to dipping his tongue deeper in your folds to tongue at your hole. You’d ask him where he learned that from but you’re too caught up with how good it feels that the question burns out on your tongue.

Before you know it, you’re close to coming already. With it being so long since you've had this, paired with the uncontrollable moans Jisung emits as he restlessly laps up all your juices, you can’t take much more.

“Fuck, Jisung. I’m close…”

Jisung hums, unaware just what that does for you. You whine pulling his hair tighter, in return it’s his turn to whimper. It’s uncomfortable, as he’s realized from the past times you’ve tugged his hair but he would never stop you.

“God, please don’t stop,” With Jisung’s locks entirely in your grasp, you can’t stop yourself from grinding your cunt upwards. Jisung takes a beat to adjust but realizes what you want, he shifts down a bit. The tip of his nose giving your clit the friction it so desperately desires while his tongue draws sloppy circles around your entrance.

You groan, the knot in your stomach tightening. You’re almost intelligible with your blubbering but Jisung manages to make out that you’re— in fact— about to come.

Jisung takes what he’s learned from his lessons and even earlier from this encounter and lets his tongue dip in and out of your hole faintly, giving you little stimulation that leads you closer while you grind on his face.

His quick shift leads your orgasm to come crashing down on you. Jisung’s face is pulled flush to your pussy as you come but he could care less, he watches keenly with wide eyes as you lurch upward, riding his face until you finally come down completely.

His room is still for a moment but Jisung is so absolutely enthralled with the moment and how he’s just made you unravel before him. Gluttonous, he doesn’t wait much longer before he’s dipping back into your folds. Lapping at you and especially your hole, he feels like a madman. The taste of you sends shivers down his spine, your surprised noises only egging him on.

“Oh my god, Ji! Wait, wait, oh,” the intrusion of Jisung’s middle finger is completely foreign but welcomed.

Where the hell was he learning this all from?

Jisung continues to work you open, never neglecting your folds and clit for a moment.

“Ji, if you don’t stop,” you shudder, trying to gather your bearings. “I’m gonna come.”

“Want it,” he moans against your pussy. “Do it again for me, pretty.”

It feels as if you’ve been thrown into the Twilight Zone. Never has Jisung said your nickname in such a tone, so deep and dripping with lust. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, taking your mind off his dual stimulation for just a moment.

With the addition of Jisung’s lengthy digit that now pops in and out of you, it doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to hit, you cry out for your boyfriend again— this time instinctively begging for some control. But your pleas fall on deaf ears, it’s like he’s dead set on keeping his face between your legs, it’s becoming too much at this point. If you two were gonna do this, you wanted him to get something out of it too.

“Fuck, Jisung, too much!”

Jisung snaps from his reverie, all of his ministrations drawing back with his head peeking from between your thighs in concern. You’re finally able to catch your breath, smiling down at him to quell his apparent anxiety. Shyly, he smiles back.

He clears his throat, “Are you okay?”

You laugh at this, still struggling to stabilize your breathing while your body pulsed with what could either be desire or exhaustion. “I am. Better than ever, actually. Are you?”

“Mhm. I uh— I didn’t hurt you or anything?”

“No, Ji, I just don’t think I’d be able to take another orgasm just yet.”

“Oh, okay.” He nods.

You giggle at him, how insane was it that he completely left you dumbstruck on two separate occasions just seconds ago and was acting all reserved the next.

“C’mere,” you open up your arms to him. He rushes to you. Giving you what you want and joining your lips. He's completely unaware just how wet his face is until it’s on your’s and he finds it a bit embarrassing.

But you don’t falter at all, instead kissing him deeply while your hands unmistakably find the boner hitched in his sweats.

Jisung stutters, physically jolting out of the kiss. “Uh, do you wanna move onto that so soon?”

“Well, I don’t want to be the only one who gets off. That’s not fair to you, is it?”

“I’ll be happy as long as you’re satisfied…”

“Ji,” you wipe away your juices that have gathered on his chin.

“Hmm?”

“I’m only satisfied when I know you are too, now, strip.”

Jisung nearly lets a ‘yes, ma’am’ slip from his throat before he hurriedly slips off his clothes. You laugh at how cute he is, removing your own shirt.

“Now, boss, how do you wanna do this?”

“Uh— however you want—“

“Jisung.”

He sighs at the call of his name from your lips, gulping as you stare up to him. “How about… on your stomach?”

“Oh? You don’t want to see my pretty face, hmm?”

“No! I mean, of course I do! You don’t have to—“

“Ji, baby, I’m fucking with you. I’d love to.” with that you roll over, grabbing one of Jisung’s pillows before slipping it under you.

“Oh.” Jisung sighs, the sight of you obeying him and propping yourself up effectively sending more strain to his member.

“Well don’t stop now, come on,” you reach a hand back for Jisung to grab. He obliges, walking to the edge of the bed, and grabbing your hand. He recalls this position from the couple of ”study materials” Donghyuck had sent and he joins you on the bed, shuffling on his knees till his cock hovers your ass.

You shift under him, hiking your ass higher to encourage him to stick his length in. He takes the message and grips his cock, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard before.

When he finally lines himself up and sinks inside of you, he hisses while you whimper. Jisung’s hands are practically godsend but nothing, and you mean nothing compares to his dick. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since your first time. And always found yourself a tad bit disappointed whenever he would turn you down following it.

“Fuck, Ji, you’re so big, baby,” you groan, trying to adjust as his heavy cock continues to stretch you open.

Jisung can only huff, holding onto his last ounce of control. He's about to come, he can feel it. His hips still, knowing if he moves anymore he’ll end up spoiling this again.

“Oh, please keep moving,” you whine, taking matters into your own hands and pushing your hips back to pick up where he has left off.

“Shit, ___, wait—“ Jisung braces his broad hands against your back, stilling you for a moment. Your head cranes back, concerned but still evidently in need.

“I— I’m about to come…” he speaks weakly, almost as if he’s embarrassed. Which he absolutely is.

You pout, confused with his display of shame.

“That’s fine, baby. Just don’t stop, please, I need you.” The sound of you begging while continuing to grind your ass on his cock sends Jisung absolutely reeling. His eyes squeeze shut, sighing heavily before allowing you to meet him halfway. Your own movements make you purr in delight, you continue to grind against him, and Jisung finds his hips moving too.

He snaps into you, chasing your cunt when you pull away. You moan in surprise, Jisung finally melting and leaning down to stabilize himself as his hips find a shallow pace.

He groans, hiding his flustered face in the junction of your shoulder.

“___…” Jisung pants.

“It’s okay, you can come, fuck, come for me, baby…”

It takes one sharp thrust before Jisung completely loses himself, releasing an almost pained groan into your neck. He continues to jaggedly move in and out of you while you feel him release himself in you, his load spurting along your walls and escaping onto the surrounding areas.

You helplessly moan at the feeling, a bit disappointed when your boyfriend’s eager hips cease to a stop.

“Hmm. Feel better?” You lilt, propping your chin on your shoulder to get the best glimpse of him.

Jisung shudders, breathing out a small laugh. “Yeah, I— sorry…”

“It’s okay, babe. Now, pull out.”

“Hmm? Oh, right!” He heeds to your directions, easing out of you but not without some slither of sadness. He had done it again. Sure, he made you cum but he barely lasted a few minutes inside of you like he had hoped.

Promptly, you shuffle onto your back, cracking your legs open. Shocked, Jisung’s gaze drops to your cunt, now messily decorated with a glistening mix of his semen, saliva, and your own cum.

“You didn’t think that was it, did you?”

Jisung blinks because he absolutely thought you two were finished for the night. You chuckle, hooking your legs around Jisung’s thighs.

“I’m not done with you just yet, Ji’…”

It’s hard for Jisung to shield his excitement, gladly positioning himself in front of you. He grips himself to align with you once again, allowing his other hand to plant by your head.

He could die right now and be absolutely satisfied, Jisung thinks as you suck him back in your walls. His face hovers your own, watching intently as your features scrunches in pleasure.

Quickly adjusting to the sensation of him stretching you out again, you take note of how statuesque he is,“Move, babe.” You gently remind.

“Right, sorry—“ Jisung takes a moment to laugh at himself, garnering an endeared smile from you.

Your hands extend up to hold his face. “No more apologizing, okay?” Jisung nods along with you in response, his heart swelling at your tender act of affection despite him being several inches inside of you.

“Okay, sor— ahem, okay…” you giggle at his immediate slip up, and Jisung arranges his hips in a way that instantly takes your mind off of it, starting to rock into you once more, now both having climaxed once (or twice, in your case)— sensitivity strikes you both but there’s no way that was gonna stop either of you.

“Feel so good,” you hum.

“Yeah?” Jisung asks, innocently, keeping his rhythm as sound as possible.

“Mhm. Don’t stop, okay?”

“I won’t.” Jisung solidifies, finding confidence in being able to see your face and how you visually react to his movements. His hips begin to reel back a greater distance, snapping into you with a fervor that leaves you crying for more.

The obscene sound of Jisung’s thighs repeatedly crashing into your own fill the room, paired with the whine of his name from your lips and the sploshing sound of the wetness between your legs.

Unfortunately, Donghyuck’s voice echoes in his mind, but for good reason. Removing himself from your hold a bit, Jisung leans down to start pecking your ear.

You hum in satisfaction, shuddering under him.

He knew you well, he could still recall the first time he accidentally grazed the area of your ear with his lips. You lurched away with embarrassment washing over you but he had found it to be one of the cutest things in the world. Not many things could pacify you like that, but a little love to your ear did.

You arch yourself into your boyfriend when his tongue darts out of his mouth to flick the shell of your ear, your new positioning encouraging the depth of Jisung’s length. It doesn’t help that Jisung has found his pacing, a mind-numbing repetition of the head of his cock grazing the precise spot that leaves your vision spotty with stars.

“Shit, M’gonna come,” you aimlessly exclaim, the strength you’d usually have to filter your thoughts from useless babble existing no longer.

Jisung hums, continuing to lap at your ear, taking Donghyuck’s nonchalant advice and running with it. You gasp in elation when you feel Jisung suckle at your ear, nipping it before it leaves his mouth.

“Fuck, who taught you this?” Restless, you bring his face back to meet yours, you find your boyfriend’s pupils completely blown out and eyes lidded heavily. You trace his furrowed eyebrows to his parted puffy lips.

Jisung leans down, your inquiry not reaching him whatsoever. Your lips meet and you whimper into the kiss, it’s wet and noisy. Your muscles searching for the best taste of each other.

Your third orgasm was barrelling towards you quickly, and you find yourself looking for anything to give you stability. Mindlessly, your hand traces the distance from Jisung’s face to one of his hands that remains planted on the bed beside you.

Without a second thought does he intertwine your fingers, pressing your joined palms into the mattress as he begins to lose momentum.

“Please keep going,” you wail. ”I’m gonna come.”

Jisung nods, his lips tucked between his teeth as he tries to keep himself together for you. He watched you contort and writhe in pleasure, now becoming familiar with your body’s pattern before a climax.

Your free hand travels to Jisung’s broad back, leaving traces of yourself with savagely placed scratches. He winces, the sting of your fingernails against his back throwing him off but simultaneously driving him to keep going. His own features scrunching to alert you that he himself was close to snapping.

“Ah, please, please—!” You whine, bracing yourself, deliberately pulling Jisung flush to you the best you could to milk to most friction out of him as possible. Your shallow yank is enough to have the large man toppling over and on top of you.

The desired stimulation of your clit grazing against Jisung is enough to coax your next orgasm out of you. You cum, angling your hips to take as much as Jisung could still offer. It doesn’t take long for him to be right there with you, whining while his hips buck aimlessly into you. Your sounds are equal in desperation, both racing to chase your highs.

“Oh.” Your hands aid Jisung’s hips toward you as he continues to release his seed inside of you until he finally fully collapses onto your body.

Serenity returns to Jisung’s room, the pair of you well past the point of exhaustion to move an inch. Jisung, seemingly coming to, is the first to move (much to your dismay). He grunts, peeling himself from your sticky with sweat body and peering down at you for a moment.

It lingers, his study of you. And typically, he was the one who would shy away from such intense eye contact but you find your eyes flitting away first. You’ve never had someone be so engrossed with you, with your satisfaction, so worried with pleasing you.

Jisung breathes out a laugh, “What?”

“Nothing.” You shake your head, equally as giddy.

“You’re shy?”

“No,” you suck your teeth, fighting the smile that threatens to give you away, “just wanna know why you’re staring…”

“Mm. Is staring at my pretty girlfriend so wrong?”

“…Hmm,” you pause as if you’re thinking for a moment. “No. I guess not.” You shrug.

“Good.” Jisung bends down to peck your lips before fully removing himself from on top of you. He sighs when his back flops on the bed beside you.

“Okay but seriously, where the hell did all of that come from?”

Jisung chuckles at the urgency in your voice, shifting to lay on his side. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you…”

“Pfft. After tonight I think I’m more open to any possibilities…”

“Hmm… okay, it was Donghyuck.” Jisung admits bashfully.

Immediately does your mouth gape open in absolute disbelief. “No fucking way.”

“See!”

“Donghyuck—? He taught you all of that?!”

“Well, I studied and kind of just… went with the flow I guess?” Jisung shrugs as if it’s nothing.

“Wow. For a second there I was scared he gave you one-on-one lessons…”

“Woah,” Jisung blinks, shocked that you precisely assumed what he had purposefully left out of the exchange. “Believe it or not, he tried.”

“I believe it,” You giggle, the ridiculous image flashing in your mind and leaving just as quick as it came.

“I guess I have to give him his flowers then.” you sigh, a hand extending to brush away Jisung’s fallen fringe so you can fully see his face. He fights a smile back, helping you by sweeping his hair back.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… I don’t think I have to tell you how great you were.” You snort, gesturing to your tired body. Jisung gladly follows your gaze, admiring your bareness once more.

Jisung hums, throwing an arm around your damp abdomen to tug you closer into him. You wordlessly oblige, sighing contently when your skin meets his again.

“Well, I think you were the star.” Jisung comments softly, his face now in your neck.

You coo silently, instinctively placing a hand on his jaw. “As much as I’d like to take credit, I can’t,” Jisung’s gaze shifts to your face when you tilt his head up.

“Not when you helped me through three orgasms.”

You peck your boyfriend’s lips as a form of punctuation. Though, you’re not able to drift far since Jisung’s mouth chases your own, deepening your once innocent kiss. You’re tired and your lips are beyond bruised but you just can’t help yourself. The way he hums from underneath you only intensifies your need for him.

While your mouth moves against his with conviction, tonguing at his lips to allow you more freedom, he finds his hands gravitating to your hips to give him some stability. Jisung sighs discontentedly when your lips disconnect, his eyes remaining shut for a beat before fluttering back open.

“Well, how do you feel about a fourth?” Jisung proposes carefully, though his expression shows that he’s clearly desperate for your agreement and for your lips to return to his own.

Quickly, your eyes widen in astonishment. “Really? Are you sure—?” Your worries are cut short by Jisung’s mouth. It’s short but effective in getting his point across.

He pulls away, an amused smirk on his face. “I’m sure.”

“Okay,” you giggle, finding yourself incredibly aroused by Jisung’s newfound confidence. You would certainly have to thank Donghyuck in some way for this abrupt change in your boyfriend’s behavior, unfortunately.

“Well let's not waste time then…”

#nct dream x reader #nct dream x y/n #nct dream fics #park jisung x reader #park jisung x y/n #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct x reader #nct x y/n #nct fics

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rafesapologist · 2 months ago

Text

strangers ─ drew starkey; ch. 1

summary: getting casted on outer banks threw you into overnight stardom, and an unforeseeable off-screen romance with one of hollywood's newest and biggest heartthrobs.

warnings: nothing yet, just not proof read fully

author's note: i want to preface that i was heavily influenced by karen x graham from daisy jones and the six (iykyk) as well as chase and madelyn's irl relationship for this story. i'm really excited for you guys to read this and as usual, if you'd like to be on the taglist please let me know!

You couldn’t sit still, fingers twisting the hem of your shirt while your knee bounced uncontrollably in the backseat of the rented SUV. The soft hum of the engine only amplified your restlessness. Your eyes flickered around, catching glimpses of palm trees and blurred tourists through the tinted windows—offering a momentary shield from the unforgiving Los Angeles sun and the bustling crowds beyond.

“How are you feeling?” Kendra, your manager, chimed in from beside you, her smile perfectly in place, glossy lips forming a curve that felt rehearsed.

You forced a chuckle, though it barely masked the pounding in your chest. “Just a little nervous, that’s all.” The words came out flat, a thin veil over the tension twisting inside you.

Kendra gave your leg a quick pat, her reassurance as smooth as ever. “Nothing to worry about. You’ve already nailed the hardest part—the audition. A chemistry read? That’s a breeze in comparison.” Her voice was soothing, but her focus never left the phone in her hand, the gesture feeling mechanical—like a line delivered without thought.

Auditioning for the show had been a gamble, and the stakes felt even higher now. You were still a relative unknown, and Outer Banks wasn’t just any show—it was the show. A streaming giant. You’d almost declined when the offer came, the weight of its success pressing down like an invisible hand. But here you were, convinced by the right mix of encouragement and blind hope, about to see if that gamble would pay off.

"You just need to go in there and feed off your co-star’s energy. Whatever emotion they’re giving you, absorb it and give it right back," your manager instructed, her voice firm as her eyes finally lifted from her phone. She leaned forward slightly, her hand resting on your arm as if to ground you, while the SUV glided through the final stretch of traffic. The weight of her words settled heavily in the air, matched only by the tension in your chest. The destination loomed closer, visible just beyond the tinted windows, and her gaze locked on you, expectant and unwavering, as if her will alone could push you over the finish line.

“Got it,” you replied, forcing another thin-lipped smile—polite yet distant, as if dismissing her with the same gesture. Your attempt to stay cordial was barely masking your desire for space. Just then, your heart gave a hard thud, perfectly timed with the jolt of the SUV rolling over the first speed bump in the studio parking lot. The looming reality hit you like a wave, stealing the air from your lungs, as the building came into full view. Each second that passed only deepened the pit in your stomach, the dreadful weight of what was to come pressing harder.

“Thank you,” you murmured to the driver, slipping a small cash tip across the center console as your manager was already halfway out of the SUV. It was a quiet gesture of appreciation, a way to acknowledge the small but crucial role he’d played in getting you there, to this moment. He turned, offering you a kind, knowing smile before you stepped out, gently closing the door behind you. As you straightened your skirt, you couldn’t help but stare up at the building in front of you, its towering stature appearing overhead.

Kendra strode ahead, confidently leading the way as she pulled open the door and gestured for you to step inside. Though her presence could be demanding and stern, in that moment it offered a small but necessary comfort amid the unfamiliar sea of faces that now surrounded you. The room quieted as you entered, and a dozen pairs of eyes turned in your direction, their stares heavy and intense, making you feel small under the weight of their scrutiny. You forced a smile—thin but polite—trying to seem more outgoing than you felt, hoping to project the right impression even as your nerves simmered beneath the surface.

“Well, look who it is—the girl of the hour! Y/N! So nice to see you again,” an unfamiliar voice rang out, though the man’s face sparked a vague sense of recognition, likely from the audition. He stood up, extending his hand with a broad smile that was meant to put you at ease.

"Hello," you replied warmly, masking the swirl of anxiety inside as you shook his hand, maintaining a steady grip. “Thank you again for allowing me this far into the audition process. I’m very grateful.” Your voice remained poised, calm, even though your insides felt like they were twisting into knots.

Your manager’s approval resonated softly behind you, a gentle hum of reassurance as she watched the exchange unfold. “I’m not sure if I introduced myself properly last time we met. My name is Jonah; I’m the director for the show,” he said, his voice rich and authoritative, each word heavy with expectation. A lump formed in your throat, the gravity of his presence amplifying the stakes, pressing down like a lead weight.

“Today, we’re going to have you do a chemistry read with who will be your love interest on the show.” His words hung in the air like a charged whisper, and your eyes widened, disbelief swirling within you. The truth struck with the force of a summer storm; you hadn’t fully grasped the role awaiting you until now.

The thought of embodying someone’s love interest sent a ripple of exhilaration and fear through your veins, making your stomach tumble as if caught in a tempest. Would it be a playful spark, filled with laughter and fleeting glances, or a brooding romance, steeped in longing and tension?

You nodded, a practiced motion that belied the ball of anxiety swirling within. Each beat of your heart echoed the dread tightening in your stomach, the sensation bubbling up like a restless tide. The thought of being paired with one of the actors to portray a romance on-screen sent a shiver racing down your spine.

You swallowed hard, trying to push the lump in your throat aside, your gaze flickering around the room, desperate for any hint of who your co-star might be. Each unfamiliar face felt like a potential source of scrutiny, and the air thickened with tension as you scanned the room, searching for clues amidst the sea of strangers.

“Okay!” Jonah clapped his hands together, the sound sharp and authoritative, breaking the taut silence that had settled. “Let’s get Drew out here.” His voice rang out, clear and commanding, drawing every eye to the door, where a buzz of anticipation rippled through the room. You felt the air shift, charged with expectation, as if the very walls were leaning in to hear who would step through that doorway.

A wave of heat washed over you at the sound of his name, igniting a fire of recognition deep within. You had seen him countless times in glossy magazines and flickering screens, caught glimpses of him at film festivals where the air buzzed with admiration, yet never had your paths crossed until now. Though he wasn’t the biggest name yet, he was a force—a powerful actor whose presence resonated through the industry like a distant thunderstorm.

As the thought of sharing the screen with him settled in your mind, your heart fluttered, a nervous bird trapped in a cage of anticipation. How could you possibly keep pace with someone whose talent seemed to flow effortlessly, whose performances were a masterclass in emotion? Doubt began to coil around your thoughts, tightening like a vine, each tendril whispering fears of inadequacy.

The room felt like a distant echo, the chatter of voices fading into a soft hum as you waited for him to enter. Your heart raced, a wild thump that reverberated through your chest, each pulse a reminder of the anticipation coursing through your veins. The other directors and screenwriters settled back into their seats, alongside your manager, their eyes fixed on you like an audience eager for the first act to begin.

Just as you began to drown in the weight of their stares, the atmosphere shifted, the air charged with electric anticipation. The door creaked open, and time seemed to stretch, every second hanging heavy. Your gaze snapped toward the sound, and your throat tightened as a tall, brooding figure stepped into the room. His presence filled the space, his stature both commanding and slightly intimidating.

For a brief moment, your mind went blissfully blank, as if time had paused to let the reality of him sink in. He moved with an effortless grace, each step purposeful as he greeted the group at the table, his voice smooth and resonant. You could see Jonah nodding in acknowledgment, and then, as if drawn by an invisible thread, he turned his gaze toward you.

Suddenly, he was there, standing before you, and the air between you felt impossibly thick, heavy with the uncertainty of what lay ahead. The moment was alive with a sense of anticipation, the unknown curling around you like smoke. You straightened your posture instinctively, trying to summon every ounce of composure, as if by holding yourself steady, you could convince the room—and yourself—that this was effortless, that you weren’t rattled by the sheer gravity of the encounter.

With a smooth, fluid motion, Drew extended his hand, the gesture both graceful and commanding, his fingers outstretched with a quiet confidence that spoke of experience beyond his years. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Drew,” he said, his voice unexpectedly soft, a gentle warmth woven into the words that caught you off guard. His tone was far kinder than you’d imagined, the kind of voice that could lull a room into ease.

As you reached out to meet his handshake, his touch was firm yet light, grounding yet unassuming, and in that brief connection, the world around you seemed to pause. The noise of the room, the watching eyes, the weight of your nerves—all of it faded, if only for a heartbeat. His presence was commanding but not overwhelming, his demeanor holding the delicate balance between strength and gentleness.

"Hello," you replied, your voice lifting an octave higher than usual, a subtle attempt to come across as feminine, poised. "I'm Y/N." As his hand met yours, your attention flickered to the way his fingers moved—effortlessly, fluidly—sending a tremor through your chest. Your heart skipped a beat at the touch, your pulse quickening under the gentle but assured pressure of his grip.

You couldn’t ignore how small you felt beneath his towering presence. The realization that you had to tilt your head slightly just to meet his eyes made the knot in your stomach twist tighter. His height, his frame—it all made the space between you feel charged, his presence simultaneously grounding and intimidating.

“It’s a pleasure,” he said again, his voice smooth as honey, the warmth in his eyes unwavering. His gaze was soft, kind, a contradiction to the commanding figure he cut. You could feel his energy, an unspoken ease radiating from him, as if he could sense the nerves bubbling beneath your surface.

"If you're feeling nervous or uncomfortable at any point, just let me know," he added, his voice dropping lower, as though he were shielding his words from the watchful eyes of the casting directors around you. "But I'm sure you've got this." His tone was gentle, reassuring, his words slipping through the space between you with a quiet confidence.

You nodded quietly at his gesture, a soft acknowledgment of his awareness and kindness, the unspoken "thank you" hanging between you. Before you could find any words to respond, one of the casting crew approached, handing each of you a script for the audition. The weight of the paper felt heavier than it should, the magnitude of the moment settling in deeper.

Chemistry reads had never been your strong suit, not in the brief time you’d been working in this industry. And this? This felt like a leap into a whole new realm, with expectations looming over you. Your eyes flicked down to the script, scanning the lines with the practiced speed of someone used to absorbing words as if they were lifelines. You read them once, then twice, allowing the emotions on the page to sink in and swirl around your mind, even as the undercurrent of nerves made it harder to focus.

Drew stood calmly in front of you, his presence steadying but no less overwhelming. You could feel his quiet confidence as he glanced through his own lines. The room was still, save for the soft rustling of papers and the occasional murmur from the casting team in the background. You straightened your back, holding onto every ounce of composure you could muster, and waited for the director’s cue.

"Alright, you may begin whenever you're ready," Jonah announced, his soft smile doing little to ease the weight pressing on your chest. His eyes flickered between you and Drew, expectant, watching for the magic to unfold. As his words sank in, a queasy wave rolled through your stomach, the weight of the moment pressing harder against your nerves. There was no turning back now—any hesitation would be a glaring failure, something that could follow you like a shadow in this unforgiving industry. The thought of being blackballed clawed at your mind, and you suddenly longed to disappear, to slip into a place where eyes weren’t always watching.

But before you could let the panic take hold, Drew stepped into the moment, his voice cutting through the tension like a lifeline. He began his lines effortlessly, the words rolling off his tongue as though they belonged to him, his presence filling the room with a quiet confidence. It was as if he had taken command of the space, a seasoned professional steering the scene with ease.

As if possessed by his character, Rafe, Drew dove into his lines with raw intensity. "Maisy, I care about you. But I-I can't risk it. I would never forgive myself if I got you involved in my mess and you got hurt because of it." His hand trembled slightly, betraying the emotion he was drawing from deep within. He pointed to his chest with a shaky finger, his voice quivering just enough to feel real, to pull at the heartstrings. His head hung low, the weight of sorrow written across his face, his entire presence drenched in regret.

You stood there, momentarily in awe of his transformation. The way he embodied Rafe with such vulnerability fueled your own performance, making it impossible not to feel the emotions he was radiating. It lit a fire within you, urging you to dive into the scene, to match the depth he was offering.

"Rafe," you spoke, your voice slipping into the soft, pleading tone of Maisy, letting the character take over your body as effortlessly as breathing. The words trembled on your lips, each one laced with a quiet desperation. "I don’t care what happens to me. I just want to be with you. Don’t… don’t do this."

You shook your head slowly, your movements measured, deliberate, as you stepped forward, closing the space between you. Your hand reached out, grazing his cheek, the tender contact filled with unspoken emotion. As if on cue, tears welled in your eyes, the sting of them amplifying the moment. You gazed up at him, your expression filled with a mixture of pain and hope, as if you were begging not just for Maisy’s life, but for everything she believed in. It was a skill you prided yourself on—channeling emotion so deeply that it felt like it bled from your very soul, and in this moment, you were no longer yourself. You were Maisy, standing on the edge of heartbreak.

Drew’s eyes, glossy with unshed tears, locked onto yours, his sorrow so palpable it seemed to seep into the air between you. His hands ran through his hair in frustration, fingers gripping the ends as if trying to hold himself together. He began to pace, his movements restless, the emotional weight in his voice thick and raw.

"You don’t get it, Maisy," he started, his voice breaking with a mix of frustration and pain. "Everything I’ve ever cared about in my life has abandoned me. I’ve never had anybody who cares about me like you do. I love you so much that it hurts—it hurts me," he cried, pressing a trembling finger into his chest, the gesture full of anguish. His blue eyes, once so calm, were now brimming with tears that slipped down his face, streaking his cheeks as he stood there, vulnerable in a way that left him utterly exposed.

"I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you," he continued, his voice cracking, "but I have to protect you, even if that means letting you go." His brows furrowed deeply, his entire expression twisted in agony, his gaze never leaving yours. It was as though, in that moment, Rafe was no longer a character—he was real, and the pain etched on his face was authentic, an outpouring of emotions he couldn’t contain.

But you didn’t miss a beat. Despite the intensity of his performance, you held steady, the emotions boiling within you just as fierce. "You can’t make that decision for me, Rafe," you pleaded, your voice rising with a mixture of desperation and defiance. Your hands flew into the air as if surrendering to the chaos of the moment.

"If I get hurt, that’s on me. I knew the risk of being with you, and I don’t care!" Your words spilled out with conviction, each one wrapped in the weight of Maisy’s determination. "Nothing is going to make me leave." Your voice was firm but edged with vulnerability, the sternness in your tone undercut by the undeniable pain that flickered beneath. You stood there, watching him, as if your very heart was on the line, a pitiful sort of strength anchoring you in place, demanding that he listen—that he understand.

"Being with you is worth it all," you added softly, your voice tinged with a raw desperation that could only come from someone who had lived through heartbreak. The vulnerability in your tone wrapped itself around the moment, thickening the air between you. Drew’s blue eyes, glossy with emotion, flickered between yours as if he were trying to decode the tragedy etched in your expression. It was as though, in that fleeting silence, his heart was breaking too, caught in the moment of the scene you were creating together.

Then, without warning, his large hands cupped your face, his touch sending warmth rushing to your cheeks. His palms, rough yet tender, cradled your skin, and for a moment, the world outside the scene seemed to vanish. "Promise me you won't go anywhere," he pleaded, his voice trembling with the same desperate intensity that mirrored your own. The emotion in his words was so intense, it felt as if the two of you were teetering on the edge of something irreversible.

"I promise, Rafe," you reassured him, your voice soft but unwavering, a soothing balm to the storm brewing in the room. Despite the emotional intensity, you held steady, grounding both of you in the moment.

For a brief second, the world paused. There was silence—a sacred, fragile quiet—allowing the vulnerability between you to speak louder than any dialogue could. The casting crew sat in rapt attention, witnessing the depth you had both drawn from. Drew’s thumb gently grazed your cheek, his gaze locked onto yours, as though he couldn’t bear to break the connection. The moment was electric, heavy with meaning, as if you were no longer acting but living the characters’ truths.

"I won’t let anything happen to you, alright? I swear on my life," he vowed, his voice deep and resolute, yet drenched in emotion and passion. His words hit like a surge of energy, drawing you in, making your heart skip in response. There was something in the way he spoke that made it feel real, as if this promise wasn't just for Maisy, but for you too.

You nodded up at him, chest heaving as you breathed in the weight of the moment, each inhale heavy with the raw intensity of the scene. It felt as if the world had shrunk to just the two of you, emotions pulsing between your bodies like a silent current, your heart racing to keep up. You weren’t acting anymore—every word felt lived, every gesture steeped in the desperation and love your characters clung to. The air between you and Drew hummed, alive with the electricity of shared vulnerability, a fragile bond that tethered you both to this moment.

Then, like a sharp crack in the stillness, a clap echoed through the room. The spell shattered instantly, the delicate tension that had built between you dissolving as reality rushed back in.

"That was incredible," Jonah’s voice broke through the haze, his head shaking in awe, a grin of disbelief spreading across his face. "The chemistry between you two is beautiful." His words were thick with praise, and you couldn’t help but glance over at Drew, a faint smile teasing the edges of your lips. The connection you’d forged in those few minutes lingered, a quiet understanding that neither of you spoke aloud.

"I think we’ve seen enough," Jonah continued, his tone final yet filled with certainty. "I think you’d be perfect as Maisy."

The world around you stilled, sound fading into a distant hum as his words sank in. Your heart seemed to pause, suspended in disbelief, before it raced forward, pounding against your chest like a wild drum. It was as if time itself had slowed, every second stretching out as the magnitude of what he’d said enveloped you.

"Oh my God, thank you!" The words burst from your lips, a mix of breathless excitement and overwhelming gratitude. Your cheeks flushed a rosy pink as joy flooded through you, warmth spreading through your body in waves. It was impossible to contain the wide, radiant smile that broke across your face. The world blurred around you, your focus narrowing to this single, life-altering moment. You felt lighter, as though all the doubts and fears you’d carried had evaporated into thin air.

Your eyes darted between Jonah and Drew, the weight of their gazes making everything feel real—so achingly real. You had done it. You had stepped into the role, not just as Maisy, but as someone who had finally claimed their place in the world.

"You did great," Drew said, his smile wide and genuine, a warm glow in his eyes that radiated excitement. You could feel his energy wrapping around you, a comforting embrace that mirrored your own joy. As your smile blossomed, his grew in tandem.

Your manager beamed, clapping along with the group of directors, her expression a blend of pride and exhilaration that you had never witnessed before. The room buzzed with energy, each person caught up in the moment of celebration.

"Thank you so much for this opportunity," you replied, your voice a melody of gratitude, bubbling up from within. "I won’t let you down." You stepped forward, reaching for Jonah’s hand, your heart fluttering with excitement as you shook his hand firmly. It was a gesture of gratitude, a promise of your commitment, and you felt a rush of warmth at the connection—a shared understanding that this was just the beginning.

You moved down the line, shaking hands with the rest of the crew, each grip solid and reassuring. Their smiles met yours, each one a testament to the hard work and passion that had brought you to this moment. In those brief exchanges, you felt the weight of the world lift off your shoulders, replaced by a sense of belonging and purpose that ignited a fire within you.

You made your way back to Drew, and to your surprise, he enveloped you in a hug that spoke volumes, his arms wrapping around you in a warmth that felt both comforting and exhilarating. "Congratulations," he murmured softly in your ear, his voice a gentle melody that resonated in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. The embrace lingered, a moment suspended in time, before he pulled back, his smile radiating a bright, infectious joy that lit up the room.

"Thank you. You were awesome, by the way. I'm excited to work with you," you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips, raw and unfiltered, yet undeniably true.

Drew chuckled, a rich sound that sent a ripple of warmth through you. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he nodded, "Likewise," he replied, adding a playful wink that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. In that fleeting exchange, the connection deepened, an unspoken promise of collaboration and creativity.

Turning towards your manager, you embraced her, feeling the solid weight of her pride enveloping you like a soft cloak. She returned the hug with a firm pat on your back, her touch both grounding and uplifting. "You did great, kid. I'm so proud of you," she said, her voice thick with emotion, wrapping around you like a warm embrace on a chilly day.

You left the studio with a sense of accomplishment unlike anything you had ever experienced before, a buoyant feeling that danced in your chest like a flame ignited by success. The joy radiating off your manager only amplified your triumph, her excitement palpable, like the warm glow of the sun on your skin.

As you slipped into the black SUV parked outside, a smile crept onto your face, blossoming with every heartbeat. The vehicle felt like a cocoon, enveloping you in a new sense of pride, a sanctuary that held the promise of new beginnings.

Your manager, brimming with enthusiasm, quickly dialed your agency, her voice animated as she relayed the news of your audition triumph. You could hear her words spill forth like a rushing river, each syllable a testament to your hard work and dedication.

As you absorbed your newfound outlook on life, the sunny L.A. sky seemed to sparkle with an ethereal clarity, its azure expanse stretching endlessly above you like an artist’s canvas, brushed with hues of hope and possibility. The golden rays cascaded down, bathing the city in a warm embrace, each glimmer igniting your spirit as if the universe itself were celebrating your triumph alongside you. In that moment, it felt as though no force on earth could disrupt the intoxicating high that enveloped you, each breath filled with the sweet essence of achievement.

"You better get ready for tonight, 'cause we are celebrating on me!" your manager exclaimed, her voice a jubilant melody that danced through the air, weaving joy into the fabric of the day. Her enthusiasm sparkled like champagne bubbles, promising an evening alive with laughter and camaraderie.

With a smile stretching across your face, you realized that this was just the beginning. The night was a canvas yet to be painted, and you were the artist, ready to fill it with laughter, joy, and new memories.

And in that instant, you understood: you were no longer the girl who had once doubted herself. You were a force to be reckoned with, ready to embrace every opportunity that lay ahead. The chapter of uncertainty had closed, making way for a new narrative, one filled with passion, courage, and the promise of dreams finally taking flight.

And maybe even something more.

#drew starkey #rafe cameron #obx #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe angst #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey imagine #drew #drew starkey x y/n #obx 4 #obx fic #rafe obx

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neckromantics · 10 months ago

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Astarion loves to take baths with you.

It's one of his favorite ways to spend his downtime in general, honestly. Not only is the bath such a soothing place to be (you know once this man has the option, he's going to splurge on a vast collection of luxury soaps, oils, hair masks, and body scrubs- the list goes on.), but there's just something about it that makes him feel so normal? Mortal, almost.

If he lets himself soak just long enough, the heat from the water begins to nullify the vampiric chill that he's grown ever so used to. It's a pleasant warmth that works its way past pale skin- past tired muscles and aching sinew- and settles down deep into his very bones. For a few precious moments, he can convince himself that the eternal discomfort of undeath has made off for good this time.

And his hair always looks spectacular after wash day. It's a win-win scenario for him. So for his favorite person to be involved as well? Well, that just makes it all the more better.

This time, you're lounging on the floor nearby as he soaks- having stuck around after washing his hair for him as he oh-so-kindly requested of you. He's still a bit new at asking for small acts of kindness, so of course, you jumped at the chance to put your hands to good use. You were so careful not to catch your fingers on any snags as you worked a sweet-smelling soap through his wet curls, nails scrubbing away at his scalp even after it's all rinsed away just to hear him purr for you.

You're leaning against the bath, cheek cushioned against your forearm as it rests along the edge. The other swirls idly in the water- kept heated by clever use of prestidigitation (you'd recently picked up this cantrip for purposes such as this) and softened by the finest oils stolen gold could purchase. The curtains in your room are carefully drawn, and although your source of light comes from the multitude of candles scattered about, it's still enough to see the nice flush the heat brings to his skin. It's a little odd to see him so pinkened, and obviously, you can't help but stare no matter how hard you try not to.

It's the blood- your blood- that's pooling beneath the surface of his skin and giving him this radiance that many a man would covet.

Rose blooms a pretty bouquet on the smooth skin of his chest, up the length of his bared throat as he rests his head, and even reaches the tips of the pointy ears you so adore. Gods, even his knuckles are pinker when he reaches a hand out of the water to push his hair away from his forehead, and your gaze immediately follows the trail of soapy water as it glides down his wrist- drip-drops from his elbow and back into the bath.

Astarion looks so... peaceful like this.

Pale lashes rest upon warm cheeks as he reclines, face fallen soft, similar to how it does when he's deep in trance. A part of you wonders if this is how he might have looked back some two hundred years ago, before the affliction that was bestowed upon him by his old (now deceased, you celebrate mentally) master.

Eyes of ruby open just a crack, and you know that smug smile is coming before his lips so much as twitch.

"You know, my dear, most people consider staring to be rather rude." He purrs.

You're proud to say you don't miss a beat.

"Good thing you're nothing like most people then, hm?" Quick wit- a developing side effect from the many days spent traveling with the cheekiest rogue in all of Faerûn.

Quick as you may be– he is quicker.

"Ah, right you are. Most people aren't nearly as beautiful as I am– one can hardly blame you for all of your slack-jawed gawping."

A half-huffed laugh is pulled out of you. Astarion loves to pretend he isn't just as delighted by your glossy-eyed admiring as he is amused.

And here you are again, suddenly distracted by the slightest bounce of silver curls when he tilts his head to watch your smile hit your eyes. His hair looks a bit longer when it's weighed down by bathwater and conditioning oils, almost to the point where some bits just barely brush his shoulders. You're so mesmerized that you have to touch him. The hand that's been playing in the water comes up to brush a few nearly translucent hairs away from where they've stuck to the curve of his neck, lingering afterward to carefully trace a finger down to his collarbone as you continue your oggle-fest.

Only just a moment longer, you tell yourself, and then you'll leave him be.

Yet, he doesn't let you pull away too far when you've finished. A deft hand comes up from the depths to capture yours the second you think about leaving him to his privacy, and you nearly jump at the unfamiliar temperature of its grasp.

He's warm.

Almost warmer than you, and it's honestly kind of jarring.

Astarion's still sporting that smile, although a bit kinder than before. If you weren't watching so closely, you'd miss how his eyes flash, uncharacteristically shy for just a moment before that heavy-lidded stare is set back in place. He brings your joined hands up to his mouth, petal-soft lips resting against the damp heel of your palm in a not-so-kiss.

They press for a long moment, and you can feel the appreciative hum he gives more than you can hear it. It occurs to you that he's probably just as dazed at your matching temperatures as you are.

"Get in here, darling." The command comes out as more of a question, really. You know in your heart that you have every right to refuse him if you really want to and that he wouldn't even consider holding it against you if you did.

But why in the hells would you ever do a thing as silly as that?

#bg3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion headcanons #astarion #astarion fic #astarion fluff

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flickering-chandelier · 6 months ago

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The Best Thing That’s Ever Been Mine

Pairing: CEO Azriel x Coworker Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader have been dating for a while, effectively keeping it a secret at work, despite their frequent make-out sessions. When a different coworker asks Reader out, Azriel gets very, very jealous.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: Az gets a little possessive, some very brief smutty moments

Word Count: 3.7k

Anne, the secretary, called your name, poking her head into your office. “The boss wants to see you.”

“Thank you,” you smiled faintly at her, smoothing down your skirt under your desk, schooling your face into a neutral mask even as heat rushed through your body.

Tapping your foot, you waited impatiently in the empty elevator, going to the top level where you made your way to the CEO’S office.

You knocked on the door and he glanced up at you briefly before his eyes landed back on the stack of papers on his desk. “Come in,” he said.

Once you stepped over the threshold, his eyes darkened as they met yours again. “Close the door,” he said gruffly, authority dripping from every part of him.

Slowly, you closed the door behind you.

Eyes locked on yours, he stood up, rolling up his shirtsleeves as he stalked toward you, revealing his muscled forearms.

He stopped when he was toe to toe with you, his body towering over yours. He reached behind you and locked the door.

In the next moment, his hands were on your face and he was kissing you deeply, his tongue sliding into your mouth as you clung to him.

His lips trailed down your neck and you moaned softly, unable to hold it in. He covered your mouth with his hand, smirking into your skin. “If you can't stay quiet, I'll have to send you back to your desk.”

You nipped at his hand with your teeth and he laughed quietly, spinning you around and backing you up toward his desk, his mouth back on yours.

When your ass collided with his massive wooden desk, he lifted you up and sat you on top of it, spreading your legs wide and stepping between them, all without breaking the kiss.

His hand ran up from your calf to your thigh, under your skirt.

“Az,” you warned, breathlessly.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his hand pausing its ascent, his thumb drawing soothing circles on your skin.

A knock on the door made you both freeze. He sighed into your neck in frustration before silently, expertly helping you to your feet, smoothing your clothes, your hair.

By the time Azriel casually said, “Come in,” you were seated on opposite sides of his desk, looking for all the world like two coworkers who were having a professional meeting.

Azriel nodded to you politely as the intruder entered his office: your cue to leave.

You stopped in the bathroom before returning to your desk, dabbing cool water on your face, on the back of your neck.

A year ago, when you had started working here, you remembered meeting your CEO and thinking that he was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. You had spent months daydreaming about him, longing for him to notice you, for him to linger by your desk or look at you during a meeting.

Then one day, it happened. At the end of the day, you were getting on the elevator on your way out and he was in it. Alone.

You stood side by side, your heart pounding. Standing so close to him, the realization hit you how massive his body was compared to yours, and you couldn’t help but glance at him as you made the descent down to ground level.

He cleared his throat, and your eyes whipped to him. “You look nice today,” he said.

Immediately, you felt heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you,” you said, feeling breathless.

When the side of his mouth turned up into a half smile, you simultaneously realized that you had never seen him smile before, and you would do just about anything to make him do it again.

His eyes bore into yours, alight with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place.

Quietly, he said your name, taking a step closer to you.

Azriel must have seen the lust written all over your face because he jabbed the hold elevator button with his thumb, not taking his eyes from yours as the elevator lurched to a halt.

Another moment later and you were being pushed against the wall, his hands on your neck, in your hair, his lips devouring yours.

“Is this okay?” he said against your lips, and you could only moan, could only wrap your arms tighter around him.

That night, you ended up at his massive penthouse, tangled up in his sheets.

You had been together ever since.

It was thrilling, if you were honest with yourself. Azriel had thought that it would be best to keep your relationship a secret at work. You had readily agreed, not wanting to deal with the potential backlash of people finding out you were sleeping with the boss.

The first time the two of you made out at work after the elevator had been a bit of an accident. You really did need to go to his office to talk to him about something. It was confidential, so you had closed his door behind you.

…And as soon as the business was over, the pleasure started. He had smirked at you, pulled you into his lap, and kissed you senseless.

After that, it became difficult to avoid. Any time the two of you found yourselves alone together, one of you was pulling the other into a kiss.

The fact that you had never been caught only spurred you on further. You did admit that sometimes it got a little reckless.

But that was all part of the fun.

Unfortunately, you didn't see Azriel for the rest of the day, though you did get a lot of work done because of it.

That evening, you were peering into your near empty refrigerator with a frown, when you got a text.

Azriel: Come over.

You rolled your eyes, smiling.

You: What's the magic word?

Azriel: Pretty please come over.

You: Much better. 😘

Azriel: So you're coming?

You: I haven't eaten yet…

Azriel: I'll order whatever you want.

You: !!! I'm leaving now.

Mere moments after you knocked on Azriel's front door, he had you pinned against the wall with his body, his length prominent against your ass, his lips on your neck.

“Bitter about how things ended at work, huh?” You asked as his hand traveled up your bare thigh.

He growled into your skin. “You've been on my mind all day.”

“Oh yeah? What have you been thinking about doing?” You teased, pressing your ass further against him.

Immediately he flipped your dress up and pulled your panties down. You dug your fingernails into the wall as he unbuckled his belt.

You moaned, leaning your head back as he entered you in one fluid movement.

His hips slapped against you over and over again as he moved in quick, deep thrusts. You were both so riled up that it didn't take long for you to finish.

Once you were cleaned up and your clothes were back in place, he kissed you gently before taking your hand and leading you to his massive, unbelievably expensive kitchen that he never used.

Spread on the counter were take out bags from three of your favorite restaurants.

You looked at him pointedly and he shrugged, smiling faintly. “I didn't know what you wanted, so I got your top three.”

Laughing, you stood up on your tiptoes to kiss him again before getting two plates from the cabinet and opening one of the bags. “You could've just waited to order until I got here,” you said, handing him a plate.

“I couldn't let you go hungry after I ravished you,” he smirked.

You carried your plate to the table, and he sat across from you, falling into companionable silence as you ate.

After dinner, you retired to his bedroom. He had an entire closet of clothes for you there that he had slowly built up after you started dating. You tried to resist at first, but you had to admit it was convenient.

You changed into pajamas and cuddled with him as the two of you fought over the remote.

“Sweetheart, we watched your show last time,” he said, one hand on your chest to hold you back while he raised the other far above his head, changing the show you had put on to a documentary.

You groaned, flopping back against the massive mattress dramatically. “Az, you pick the most boring shows in the world. Can't you pick an interesting documentary about murder or something?”

He raised an eyebrow at you and you seized your opportunity, pouncing on him and wrestling the remote from his hand.

You rolled to the opposite side of the bed, cradling the remote in your hands and giggling while you changed it back to your favorite reality TV show.

Azriel let out a resigned sigh as he pulled your body back into his. “Alright, fine. You win.”

Grinning, you kissed him and settled into his embrace for the rest of the night.

The next morning, you woke up with Azriel's absurdly early alarm and swore.

“Hmm?” He asked sleepily, kissing you before he even opened his eyes.

“I didn't mean to sleep over on a weekday.”

“Why does it matter?” He mumbled into your skin.

“People can't see us showing up at work together.”

“I can call a car for you,” he said. “Or we can risk it and try to be sneaky,” he smiled, kissing a line down your neck.

“Don't you think we've been risking it enough?” You asked.

Azriel settled back against the pillows again. “I don't know. With you I feel pretty invincible,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes and he laughed. “It's up to you,” he said, kissing you one more time before padding to the adjacent bathroom.

You followed him, stopping in front of your side of the double sinks, pulling out your toothbrush in tandem with him. He faced you as you both brushed your teeth, gently brushing stray hair out of your face. You shook your head, smiling lightly, though you did love this side of him, the one that could make any menial task feel romantic.

He kissed your temple after you had both brushed your teeth, and you took out the makeup and hair products from the drawer he had set aside for you as he stepped into the shower.

By the time Azriel was out of the shower, you were still finishing up your makeup. He stood behind you, smiling softly, watching your reflection as he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on the top of your head, a fluffy towel wrapped around his waist. Even after all this time, he still gave you butterflies, still set your body on fire when he touched you.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said softly.

You couldn’t help but smile. “You’re unbelievably hot,” you said, your voice teasing but your eyes alight.

He barked out a laugh before kissing the top of your head and sauntering back into his bedroom. “Good to know you still think so.”

Shortly after, your makeup was done and your hair looked presentable, and you joined him in the bedroom, where he was pulling his pants on, still shirtless.

“It was my first thought, you know,” you said, arms crossed, eyes intently watching his body, every ripple of the muscles in his forearms, his biceps, his stomach.

“What was?” he asked, looking up at you as he slung his shirt on, buttoning it up.

“The first time I saw you. All I could think was that you’re the hottest man I’d ever seen.”

His smile turned slightly predatory as he stalked closer to you, the top few buttons of his shirt left undone. “I know. I could see it in your eyes,” he murmured, bringing his hands to your waist, his lips drifting closer and closer to yours.

“You could?” you breathed.

“Well, I saw some kind of spark,” he said, slowly moving his mouth to your ear before playfully taking your earlobe in between his teeth. “I was hoping it was for me.”

Your breath came out in a soft exhale, your heart rate picking up speed. “We need to leave soon,” you said, trying to focus.

“Yes, we do,” he murmured, before kissing you softly, cradling your face in both his hands.

It took every bit of effort you had to gently push him away. “Get dressed,” you said breathlessly.

He laughed, reaching up and buttoning his shirt as you pulled out a skirt and blouse from “your” closet. “As you wish, my love,” he said, his eyes shining with amusement.

You couldn’t get enough of him that morning. So, you decided to take your chances and ride with him to work. His sportscar’s windows were tinted so extremely that nobody could possibly see in, and Azriel made it a point to always be the first one in the office, so you hoped that there wouldn’t be anyone around to see you get out of the luxury vehicle.

His hand rested casually on your thigh as he drove, and your eyes were glued to him. With his designer sunglasses, his pristine suit, his expensive watch, he looked like he should be on the cover of some magazine for rich men, making them all drool with envy.

Sure enough, the parking lot was completely empty when Azriel pulled into his reserved parking space.

He smirked at you, squeezing your thigh. “I told you it would be fine, baby,” he murmured, leaning in to give you a long, slow kiss.

You let yourself sink into the kiss, into the feeling of him, for a few beautiful moments.

After a bit, you went inside hand in hand, thankful for the empty hallways. In the elevator, he pulled your body to his, threading his fingers through your hair, kissing you until the doors opened.

He walked you to your office and lingered in your doorway, still holding onto your hand, giving you one more kiss before he went up to his office, shooting you a bright smile over his shoulder.

Through most of the work day, you didn’t see Azriel and kept to yourself in your office.

That is, until Spencer showed up, knocking on your door with a smirk before entering your office, leaving the door ajar. It was toward the end of the day, and most of the office had cleared out by then.

Spencer wasn't your favorite person in the office. He was a cocky asshole, to put it blatantly. Nobody really liked to work with him, but especially not the women. His ego was bigger than anyone's, though he had done absolutely nothing to deserve it.

“Hey,” he said with a crooked smile, leaning casually against the door frame.

“Hi, Spencer,” you said, trying to keep your voice mild. “What's up?”

“I was thinking that you and I should get dinner sometime,” he said, shooting you a cocky grin that you had seen him use on other women in this very office.

You raised your eyebrow, saying cautiously, “Like a date?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “If you want to call it that.”

Fighting the urge to scowl, you said politely, “No, thanks. I have a boyfriend.”

He looked annoyed, like he wanted to say more, but thought better of it. He blundered through a somewhat awkward goodbye before he left you alone in your office again.

As soon as Spencer's footsteps faded, Azriel was in your office, his eyes on fire.

“What,” you said, surprised, “Did you hear all that?”

He growled, kicking your door shut before he was taking your hand and pulling you upright, kissing you hard, his tongue and hands unyielding.

You gasped in surprise as he lifted you in his arms and set you on your desk, still kissing you relentlessly, his hands wandering over your thighs, your cheeks.

“Az,” you breathed, but he cut you off with another searing kiss.

“You're mine,” he said against your mouth.

“Of course I am,” you said, leaning back slightly, trying to suck air into your lungs.

“Say it,” he ground out before kissing you senseless again.

“I'm yours,” you gasped, clutching to him.

He pulled back finally, holding your face in his hands, gazing into your eyes. “And I'm yours,” he said.

“Az,” you said gently, running your thumb on his bicep in what you hoped were soothing movements. “I love you. You know that.”

“I know,” he said, breathing heavily. “I just-- that pissed me off. That guy really fucking pisses me off.”

You laughed, despite yourself. “Me too.”

He sighed, kissing you softly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you said, leaning in to kiss him again.

“I'm sorry I got -- you know,” he winced slightly.

“You don't have to worry about anybody else,” you said. “You're the one I want.”

“I know,” he murmured, kissing you softly.

Spencer must have really gotten to Azriel, because he took you out to an extremely expensive restaurant that night, and he didn’t take his eyes off you for a moment while you were there.

You couldn’t help but grimace as you looked at the menu, some of the prices for an entree were more than you’d spend on food in a week.

“Get whatever you want,” Azriel said, reading your thoughts.

“Az, these prices are ridiculous.”

He smiled faintly. “Get whatever you want,” he repeated, his eyes softening.

You sighed, and when the waiter came by, you did indeed get what you wanted.

As soon as you were alone, he reached for your hand across the table. “I am sorry about earlier.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “I just don’t get why you got so jealous. Spencer’s a sleaze.”

Azriel laughed lightly. “You’re the most important person in my life,” he said, his eyes sparkling under the dim lights. “I love you. I don’t like that an asshole like him thinks about you.”

You ran your thumb along his hand absentmindedly. “I’m sure he’s already moved onto thinking about somebody else.”

His eyes darkened slightly. “He better have.”

For the rest of the evening, his hands were on you, like he didn’t want to let you go.

The following day, there was a mandatory meeting that Azriel was leading, one that both you and Spencer would be required to attend.

You didn’t think much of it. You and Azriel had been in countless meetings together since you had started dating, and the two of you had always been perfectly capable of remaining professional throughout them, never raising any suspicion that you knew of.

Azriel, as always, was the first one in the boardroom, sitting at the head of the table with his laptop open, a stack of notes next to it.

He smirked and winked at you as you walked in and sat down a few seats away from him.

“How are you today?” you asked pleasantly, as if you hadn’t woken up in his bed and already snuck up to his office once that morning.

“I’m doing well, how are you?” he said in his boss-making-small-talk-with-his-employees voice.

You nodded as a few of your coworkers wandered in, laptops under their arms. “Oh, you know. Can’t complain.”

Azriel turned his attention to the people settling in around the room, getting the pleasantries out of the way. This was a part of the job that he hated, you knew. He would much prefer to stay silent unless absolutely necessary, but he also wanted his employees to like him, to trust him.

Everything was pretty business as usual, until Spencer walked in and sat right next to you. Even from where you were sitting, you noticed Azriel’s muscles tense. There were half a dozen other open seats that Spencer could have sat in, and you were sure that Azriel was thinking the very same thing.

Spencer smirked at you as he opened his laptop. “How was your night?”

“Fine?” You said, using all of your focus to keep your eyes from flitting over to Azriel.

“Just fine?” Spencer asked, clearly amused. “Hmm. Sounds like it could've been better if you hadn't turned me down.”

Before you could form a response, Azriel cleared his throat, starting the meeting abruptly, his eyes practically burning a hole into the side of Spencer's head.

Azriel, who was usually so good at concealing his emotions, at wearing his face in a mask of indifference, was visibly ruffled. There was a slight edge to his voice as he updated us, his eyes narrowing slightly every time they drifted over Spencer.

You wanted to reach out to him, to try and bring him back down to earth, but you obviously couldn't do that.

When he turned the focus over to someone else who started updating everyone about recent developments, his eyes landed on you and finally softened a bit. You smiled faintly at him and he seemed to relax.

It was an effort to focus on the meeting, to not stare across the table at Azriel.

Later, when Azriel said you all were free to go, you jumped up and exited quickly so you wouldn't have to deal with any more idiotic comments from Spencer.

You hid out for a little bit before you deemed it safe to go up to Azriel's office. You knocked lightly on the open door and he looked up from his desk and nodded toward the door behind you to close it.

You closed the door quietly behind you and went to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning into you.

“It would be wrong to fire him, right?”

You laughed, leaning in to kiss him. “Yes.”

He sighed. “Right.”

Gently, you took his face in your hands. “Ignore him.”

Frowning, he said, “When he's making comments like that to you?”

“Yes,” you said, kissing him softly. “I can handle myself if he says something like that again.”

He nodded. “I know you can.”

For a few moments, he just gazed at you. “What is it?” You asked.

Smiling, he said, “It's just… I love you.”

Kissing him sweetly, you said, “I love you, too.”

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @melmo567 @azrielshadows1nger @cigvrette-dvydrevms @evergreenlark @mariamay02 @yourqueenlilith @sillysillygoose444 @headacheseason @halibshepherd @ecliphttlunar @bookloverandalsocats

(sorry y'all I just realized that I didn't actually tag most of you because I'm Stupid so that's why you're being tagged now lol)

#acotar fic #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel one shot #acotar #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #azriel fanfiction #azriel modern au #azriel ceo #request

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regressionschool · 2 months ago

Text

Maturity Test Part 1

The waiting room buzzed with a nervous energy, a mix of anticipation and dread that hung thick in the air. Rebecca fidgeted with the hem of her dress, her fingers tracing the lace pattern absentmindedly. Beside her, Olaf was tapping his foot, his face a careful mask of indifference, though the slight tremor in his leg betrayed his unease. Anna, the calmest of the trio, sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap, her posture straight, and her expression serene.

At twenty years old, they had all reached the first critical milestone in their lives—the Maturity Test. Every person was required to take it at twenty, and then every five years after that. The test was designed to determine their place in society, not just in terms of their roles and responsibilities, but their very lifestyle. No one knew exactly how the test worked; it was a closely guarded secret, passed down through generations, the results shaping the course of every citizen’s life.

A door at the far end of the room opened with a quiet hiss, and a woman in a crisp white lab coat stepped out. “Rebecca Green,” she called, her voice soft but commanding.

Rebecca stood up, smoothing her dress one last time before following the woman through the door. Olaf and Anna exchanged a glance, but neither said anything. What was there to say? They had all grown up together, gone through school together, and now this test would decide their futures.

The door closed behind Rebecca, sealing her into a small, sterile room. A single chair sat in the center, facing a large screen. The woman gestured for her to sit.

“Relax, Rebecca,” the woman said, her tone soothing. “This will only take a few minutes.”

Rebecca nodded, though her heart was pounding in her chest. She sat down, the chair surprisingly comfortable. The screen in front of her flickered to life, displaying a series of images, words, and scenarios. Rebecca tried to focus, answering the questions as they appeared, making decisions, reacting to scenarios, all while trying to keep calm.

After what felt like both an eternity and only a few seconds, the screen went black. The room was silent, save for the soft hum of machinery. Rebecca’s hands gripped the armrests of the chair, her knuckles white.

Finally, the screen lit up again, displaying a single word in bold letters.

TODDLER

Rebecca stared at the word, her mind reeling. Toddler? What did that mean? But before she could process it, the door behind her opened again, and the woman in the lab coat re-entered, this time accompanied by a man in a similar uniform. He held a small bundle in his hands.

“Rebecca, your classification is toddler,” the woman said, her voice still calm. “This means that, from now on, your lifestyle will be adjusted to fit your new status. This includes, but is not limited to, the wearing of diapers, a supervised environment, and the cessation of adult responsibilities.”

The man stepped forward, handing her the bundle. It was soft, wrapped in pastel-colored fabric. Rebecca’s hands trembled as she took it, unfolding it to reveal a thick, padded diaper. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Your new caretaker will meet you shortly to explain everything,” the woman continued. “Please follow the attendant, and they will guide you to your new quarters.”

Rebecca could barely move, her mind swirling with confusion, embarrassment, and a strange sense of resignation. She was led out of the room, clutching the diaper to her chest like a lifeline.

As she passed by the waiting room, she caught Olaf’s eye. He gave her a tight, sympathetic smile, but there was nothing he could say. Anna, still composed, offered a small nod, acknowledging Rebecca’s fate.

The door closed behind her, leaving Olaf and Anna in silence once more.

“Olaf Lindstrom,” the same woman called, and Olaf rose to his feet. He walked through the door, his heart pounding in his ears.

The process was much the same. The questions, the scenarios, the flashing images on the screen. But Olaf’s mind kept wandering back to Rebecca, to the diaper in her hands, to the word TODDLER that had flashed on the screen. Was that really her future now? What would his be?

When the screen finally settled on his classification, Olaf felt his heart skip a beat.

PRESCHOOLER

The woman re-entered the room, but this time she held something different—a package of pull-ups, adorned with cartoon characters and bright colors.

“Olaf, your classification is preschooler,” she said. “This means that while you have some independence, you will still require supervision and assistance with certain tasks. You will wear these pull-ups, and your activities will be limited to those appropriate for your status.”

Olaf stared at the pull-ups, a strange mix of relief and disappointment washing over him. He wasn’t a toddler like Rebecca, but he wasn’t classified as an adult either. He was stuck in some in-between stage, not quite a baby, but not fully independent.

He was led out of the room, clutching the pull-ups. When he passed the waiting area, Anna’s eyes met his, her expression unreadable. She offered him a small, reassuring smile, but Olaf could see the concern behind it. They had all known that their futures would be decided today, but none of them had expected it to be so drastic.

Finally, it was Anna’s turn. She walked into the room with her head held high, her steps confident. The test followed the same pattern—questions, images, scenarios—but Anna’s mind was calm, focused. She had always been the responsible one, the one who took care of her friends, who excelled in school, who made the right decisions.

When the screen displayed her classification, Anna felt a sense of vindication.

ADULT

The woman in the lab coat entered, holding nothing this time. She simply smiled at Anna, a warm, approving smile.

“Anna, your classification is adult,” she said. “You will continue to live as you have, with full responsibilities and privileges. You have passed your Maturity Test.”

Anna nodded, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. But as she left the room, her thoughts drifted back to Rebecca and Olaf, to the diaper and the pull-ups, to the new lives they were about to lead.

As Anna walked out of the room, she glanced back at the door where Rebecca and Olaf had exited. Her heart ached for her friends, especially for Rebecca, who had been reduced to a toddler by the system. But she knew there was nothing she could do. The classifications were final, and everyone had to live by them.

As she continued down the street, Anna silently vowed to check in on Rebecca and Olaf, to be there for them despite the gulf that had just opened between their lives. Because while the system had classified them differently, they were still her friends, and she wouldn’t let that change.

Anna walked up to the familiar house, the one she had visited so many times before, yet it felt different now. It had been two years since the Maturity Test, and so much had changed. She had just finished her BSc, an accomplishment she was proud of, but now that she was back home, she felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation about reconnecting with her old friends, especially Olaf.

As she approached the front door, Anna could hear muffled laughter from inside. She knocked gently, and within moments, the door swung open to reveal a beaming Olaf. He looked almost the same as she remembered, but there was something different about his demeanor—something softer, less assured.

"Anna!" Olaf exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he pulled her into a warm hug. "It’s so good to see you!"

"You too, Olaf!" Anna replied, hugging him back tightly. "It’s been way too long."

Olaf stepped aside to let her in, and as Anna entered the house, she noticed the subtle changes. The living room had a more childlike vibe now, with toys neatly arranged in one corner and colorful educational posters on the walls. A large stuffed animal sat on the couch, and there was a faint scent of baby powder in the air.

Olaf looked a little different too. His clothes were casual, a bit more childlike than she remembered—loose overalls and a bright, playful t-shirt. And there was a visible outline beneath his overalls that hinted at something... padded.

Lilly appeared from the kitchen, wearing a soft smile and holding a tray of snacks. She looked every bit the doting caregiver, dressed in comfortable clothes that belied her new role in Olaf’s life.

"Anna, it’s so great to see you again," Lilly said warmly, setting the tray down on the coffee table. "I’ve heard so much about how well you’ve been doing."

"Thanks, Lilly," Anna replied, returning the smile. "It’s good to be back home, even if just for a bit."

Olaf began chatting animatedly about his life, clearly eager to share.

“So, I’m in preschool now,” Olaf said, his voice carrying a mix of pride and something else—a hint of embarrassment, maybe? “It’s... well, it’s different from what I thought I’d be doing, but I’ve made some really good friends there.”

Anna nodded, listening intently. “That’s great, Olaf. What kind of stuff do you do in preschool?”

“Oh, you know, we have story time, arts and crafts, and lots of outdoor play,” Olaf said, his eyes lighting up as he talked about the games they played. “It’s really fun, actually. And we have nap time after lunch, which is... kind of nice.”

Lilly chuckled softly, ruffling Olaf’s hair. “He’s the star of the class, aren’t you, sweetie?”

Olaf blushed deeper, looking down at his juice box. “I guess...”

Anna smiled, sensing the comfort yet slight awkwardness Olaf felt in this dynamic. “Sounds like you’re doing great, Olaf. It’s good to see you so happy.”

But then Lilly’s expression turned slightly mischievous. “Olaf, why don’t you tell Anna about that big milestone you hit last year?”

"And, uh," Olaf continued, his tone shifting slightly as he glanced at Lilly, "I also... well, I passed 'Unpotty Training I' last year."

Anna blinked, taking in the information. She had heard of Unpotty Training classes but hadn’t really considered what that meant for someone like Olaf. The idea of Olaf, her old friend who used to be so independent, having accidents like a toddler was hard to wrap her mind around.

Lilly, however, looked absolutely delighted. "He did so well in that class," she said proudly, as if discussing an academic achievement. "He’s such a good boy. He was one of the first in his class to have real accidents."

Olaf squirmed in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "I-I guess..."

Anna glanced at Lilly, noticing the way she gently but firmly guided Olaf’s behavior. There was a subtle push and pull in their dynamic—Olaf trying to hold on to his independence and maturity, while Lilly seemed eager to encourage his regression. It was an intriguing contrast.

“That’s... really interesting,” Anna said, trying to be supportive while still processing the situation.

Lilly smiled, sensing Anna’s curiosity. “Olaf’s doing great in his preschool class, and he’s learning to embrace this new phase of his life. But, of course, I’m here to help him with whatever he needs.”

Olaf looked at Anna, his expression somewhere between pride and a plea for understanding. “It’s been... different, but Lilly’s been really supportive. She... she helps me a lot.”

Anna watched the interaction, noting how Lilly’s influence seemed to be gently guiding Olaf further away from the maturity he was trying to cling to. It was clear that Lilly enjoyed her role as a caregiver—no, as Mommy.

"So, what happens after these five years?" Anna asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Lilly’s eyes gleamed slightly as she looked at Olaf. "Well, after five years, we all take the Maturity Test again. Depending on how things go, Olaf might stay a preschooler, or... maybe he’ll move on to the next smaller stage."

Olaf’s blush deepened as he looked down at his hands. "I don’t want to move backward, Anna. I want to stay a preschooler... or maybe even move up, if I can."

Lilly chuckled softly, clearly amused by his determination. "We’ll see, sweetie. There’s no rush. For now, let’s just focus on enjoying where you are."

Olaf looked up at her, his expression a mix of resignation and affection. "Yeah... I guess you’re right."

Anna walked through the bright, cheerfully decorated halls of the regression school nursery, a place she never imagined visiting until now. She hadn’t seen Rebecca since before her classification, and she wasn't sure what to expect. The walls were lined with colorful murals, depicting scenes of playful animals and idyllic nature, clearly designed to be soothing and engaging for the residents. The soft hum of lullabies played in the background, adding to the nursery’s serene atmosphere.

Finally, she reached the room number she had been given and knocked gently on the door. A moment later, it swung open, and Anna was greeted by a young woman with a warm smile, dressed in a uniform that marked her as one of the caregivers.

“Hello, you must be Anna,” the caregiver said kindly. “Rebecca’s been talking about your visit all week. She’s just inside, playing with her toys.”

Anna smiled back, feeling a mix of emotions—anticipation, curiosity, and a twinge of sadness as she stepped into the room. It was spacious, filled with soft, pastel-colored furniture, and various toys scattered across the floor. In the middle of it all sat Rebecca, her back to the door, completely absorbed in stacking brightly colored blocks into a wobbly tower.

Rebecca was dressed in a simple shirt with a cartoon character printed on the front, and Anna’s eyes were immediately drawn to the diaper peeking out from beneath it. The thick padding crinkled softly as Rebecca shifted.

“Becky,” Anna called softly, using the childhood nickname that felt oddly appropriate now.

Rebecca turned around, her face lighting up with a broad, innocent smile that made her look younger than her twenty-two years. “Anna!” she squealed, dropping the blocks and crawling over to her friend. When she reached Anna, she wrapped her arms around her legs in an enthusiastic hug, her diaper crinkling loudly with the movement.

“Hi, Becky,” Anna said, crouching down to return the hug. She was struck by how different Rebecca seemed. The way she moved, the way she looked up at Anna with wide, expectant eyes—it was as if Rebecca had truly turned into the toddler she had been classified as.

“Wanna play blocks with me?” Rebecca asked, her voice slightly lisped, whether naturally or from the regression, Anna wasn’t sure. “I’m makin’ a big tower!”

Anna smiled gently. “Sure, I’d love to.” She sat down on the plush rug next to Rebecca, who immediately returned to her task of stacking blocks, her small tongue poking out in concentration.

As they played, Anna observed her friend closely. Rebecca’s mannerisms were so childlike—the way she clapped her hands in delight when the tower didn’t fall over, the way she babbled excitedly about the different colors and shapes of the blocks. It was clear that Rebecca had regressed quite a bit since her classification.

“So, Becky,” Anna started, picking up a block and turning it over in her hands, “how have you been? Do you like it here?”

Rebecca nodded enthusiastically, her pigtails bouncing with the movement. “Yeah! It’s so fun! I get to play all day, an’ the caregivers are really nice. They give me cookies when I’m good!”

Anna smiled, though there was a hint of sadness behind it. “That sounds nice. And you’re happy?”

“Uh-huh!” Rebecca chirped, not a care in the world as she continued stacking her blocks. “I don’t hafta worry ‘bout big girl stuff anymore.”

Anna nodded, watching Rebecca with a mix of concern and curiosity. The girl in front of her was so different from the Rebecca she once knew—carefree, unburdened, but also entirely dependent on the nursery and its routines. It was a stark contrast to Anna’s own life, where responsibility weighed heavily on her shoulders every day.

As they continued to play, Anna couldn’t help but notice something strange—Rebecca’s diaper, which had been dry when she arrived, was still dry. She had been there for nearly three hours, and Rebecca hadn’t shown any signs of needing a change. It struck Anna as odd, considering everything she’d heard about regression schools and their “residents.”

But as the hours passed, Anna started to see small signs. Rebecca would squirm a little more, shift her weight from side to side, and occasionally pause in the middle of talking or playing, as if she was distracted by something. Anna noticed but didn’t say anything, not wanting to embarrass her friend.

Finally, after about three hours, Rebecca paused mid-sentence, her eyes going wide for a moment. She looked down at her diaper, then back up at Anna, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks. “Uh-oh...” she mumbled softly, her voice tinged with both embarrassment and a hint of relief.

Anna watched as the colorful designs on Rebecca’s diaper began to fade, the telltale sign of it absorbing wetness. There was a faint, almost imperceptible hiss, and then Rebecca sighed softly, a look of contentment spreading across her face.

“I did a pee-pee,” Rebecca said quietly, almost to herself, as she absentmindedly patted the front of her now-soggy diaper. There was no shame in her voice, just a simple acknowledgment of what had happened.

Anna reached out, gently rubbing Rebecca’s back. “It’s okay, Becky. Do you want me to get someone to change you?”

Rebecca shook her head, leaning into Anna’s touch. “No, it’s okay. I’m comfy.”

Anna continued to rub her back, noticing how Rebecca seemed completely at ease with her situation. "You really seem to enjoy it here," Anna said softly.

Rebecca’s smile faltered for a moment as she looked down at her soggy diaper, then back up at Anna. "Well... I heard that if I'm a good little girl and don't put up a fuss, they might let me grow back up before the next... matur... matuwity... test," she said, struggling with the word.

Anna’s eyes widened slightly. “Maturity test?”

Rebecca nodded, a proud smile spreading across her face. “Uh-huh! If I’m a good girl and don’t make a fuss, maybe when it’s time for the test again, I can grow back up!”

Anna’s heart ached a little as she listened. It was clear that Rebecca had latched onto the idea, hoping that by being the perfect little toddler, she might get a chance to return to her previous life. Anna wasn’t sure if that was really how it worked, but she didn’t want to burst Rebecca’s bubble.

“That’s a good plan, Becky,” Anna said softly, pulling her friend into a gentle hug. “You’re doing great.”

Rebecca beamed up at her, the simple praise enough to make her day.

#ab/dl diaper #diaper stories #diaper captions #ab/dl stories #regression school #ab/dl girl #wetting diaper #diaper bulge #ab/dl

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konigsblog · 4 months ago

Note

what about Loser!König x reader where reader is doing her skincare routine while König was over and she wants him to do it with her.

she goes to put her lip mask on him and gently taps his lips. has könig sit or bend down so she can get to his face ):

Loser!König can't control the depraved fantasies rushing through his sick and perverted mind when you're this close to his face. He gets lost in your eyes, fantasising about how perfect and beautiful you'd look on your back in his bed, your soft thighs spread wide open and wrapped around his broad, chubby waist, looking deep into your shining, bright eyes.

You had to snap him back to reality to get his attention. “Which facemask do you want?” His cheeks are flushed, and the expression on his face is clear embarrassment. He utters out a response, rubbing the back of his neck through humiliation. He becomes so bashful around you, his breathing becoming heavier at your soft fingers rubbing soothing circles around his cheeks.

When it comes to skincare, the most that König uses is water. His skin is crowded with acne scars and cuts, mainly around his stubbled jaw. König takes in a sharp breath at the feeling of your weight on his right thigh. His eyes grow wide, while his soft cock twitches and drips, becoming harder the longer you sit there. König's hands grasp at your plush hips almost instinctively, without him properly thinking. He gulps and looks away from your eyes at the sound of your quiet and hushed laughter, his grip tightening, and his breathing growing uncontrollable.

Your touch is relaxing, especially when you're sat on his lap, practically cupping his face. Fuck, all König can think about is how it would feel to have your soft, smooth hands on his face during sex, encouraging him to go harder, deeper, faster...

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after-witch · 3 months ago

Text

To a Mouse [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Title: To a Mouse [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Synopsis: The best laid escape plans of mice and men often go awry.

Word Count: 2200ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, abusive behavior, drugging

You’ve been planning. Bad, bad thing that you are--not that Overhaul knows about the planning. Not that he knows you call him Overhaul, in your head, all the while “Kai” bubbles from your lips like sweet candy.

Not that he knows that while you obey and nod and pretend to go along with it, you’re screaming, plotting, fervently dreaming about the day that you’ll get away from him.

That day is today, in fact.

All thanks to two things: your penchant for drawing, and his penchant for closing his eyes while you change into your nightgowns.

The drawing is what earned you the box of pencils. They’re nice pencils, middle-of-the-road when it comes to quality. Better than the cheap pencils schoolchildren get, but a seasoned artist might not work with them. You, though, are no seasoned artist. You’re simply a kidnapping victim who liked to draw in their spare time before all this, and after weeks of behaving, he let you have a box of pencils and paper to keep in your room when he wasn’t there.

Because you were good. Because he trusted you.

His mistake.

That pencil is sharpened now, razor sharp or something close to it; it won’t kill him, you’re not that naive. But you’re sure that you can jab it into his flesh enough to hurt, enough to send him to his knees long enough for you to rush into his office and get one of the knives he keeps in his desk. And that’s what will kill him. That’s what will secure his death--and your freedom.

It’s his mistake, too, that he gives you a hint of privacy now and then. When you get dressed, especially. In the morning, when you change; in the evening, when you shower, then again when you change into your nightgown.

The pencil would be useless, without that hint of privacy. Because it had given you the opportunity to slip the pencil from your shirt sleeve and, quick as a bird, slide it underneath the comforter before he took you to the bathroom to shower.

And here you were, sitting in bed with a hand tucked under the comforter and holding onto that pencil; skin scrubbed raw and smelling of sterile soap. Clean. Fresh. Ready.

He’s still turned around, and you put an earnest smile into your voice.

“I’m dressed, Kai.” Dressed and ready to never call him Kai again. Dressed and trembling, fingers tight around the pencil, waiting for the perfect time to strike.

The perfect time comes when he turns around, eyes crinkled in what must be a smile behind his mask, and approaches to tuck your blanket over you. It’s a soft think--pink and sweet, like he wants you to be.

His fingers are smoothing out the blanket, his words forming some sort of soothing goodnight message, when your arm whips around and you stab the pencil straight into his neck.

The pencil makes contact, you think. But it doesn’t plunge into his flesh the way you imagined it would. It scratches--leaving a jagged quickly -reddening gash--and Overhaul falls to one knee, giving you only a second to scamper off the bed and flee through the doorway connecting your room to his office.

He’s not down for the count, you can hear his steps, hear him shouting something--your thoughts are all jumbled and when your trembling hands grip the handle of his desk and yank at the drawer, it doesn’t budge. He locked it, today. Or maybe it was always locked and you were too stupid to realize it.

There’s no time to kill him, no time to attack--you can only run. So you do, socked feet scampering towards the door of his office, hoping it led to some sort of escape route.

The door doesn’t budge, and you stupidly shove yourself against it, feeling hot, useless tears streaming down your face. Everything happens too fast and too slow all at the same time. It didn’t work, none of it worked, and you’re left pressing your back against the door and watching as an extremely pissed off Kai Chisaki stalks towards you.

You’ve never seen him like this--hives breaking out on his skin, one hand clutching his neck, eyes practically bulging out in anger and betrayal.

A gloved hand reaches down to grip your wrist, yanking you upward with an uncharacteristic force. You were delicate, a doll; an ornament to be cared for and cleaned. Or so he said, with words and actions. Which is why the tight grip, so harsh you wonder if your bones might snap, comes at you like a bucket of ice water.

“There will be consequences.”

The words are spit out, and your mind supplements the image of wispy saliva hitting the inside of his mask, a bitter poison. No sooner than he warns you, he grabs your arm, gloves slipping on your skin as he tightens his grip and yanks you upward.

Instinct tells you what he’s going to do, and your body tries to turn to lead, but there’s no escaping his grip in the moment. He drags you over to his desk and you see the inside of the drawer he pulls open--all manner of syringes and bottles and you already imagine a needle sliding into your skin, turning you to jelly.

It’s not the needle he grabs, but the handcuffs. And that makes your stomach twist worse.

The moment when you’re dragged back into your bedroom and tossed harshly onto your bed blurs over the next few hours. You will remember the feeling of hitting the mattress, the awkward way your arm bent as he held it down and snapped the cuff over your wrist and then over the pole of the bed. You will remember your heart pounding like a rabbit.

But you’re not sure exactly what Overhaul said--or if he said anything at all--or if you did anything but cry. Did you beg him not to hurt you? Did you tell him to fuck off? Did he tell you to go to sleep, or was it an implied command?

It’s hard to say.

You’re not even sure if the later sound of hot steaming water from his office bathroom, the image of him scrubbing his skin where the pencil scraped it, is real or imagined.

Sleep does not come for hours and when it does, you have a horrid nightmare of a large, unfathomable monster sitting on your arms, keeping you immobile.

“You’ve lost the right to move without permission.”

There are many things you imagined Overhaul might do to you. You thought he would toss you back into that horrid room with its white walls and stripped toilet; or cut your meal to miniscule rations, to teach you to be grateful. Or make you sit in the damned clinic of his while he tested your blood to find some practical reason for your rebellion.

You didn’t imagine he would cuff your hands behind your back, and keep you on a chain that kept you leashed to the bed. It wasn’t even long enough to walk around the room, not that there was much to do anymore; when you woke up the morning after, your books, papers, pencils, had all been stripped away.

It was a wonder he didn’t take the shelf with them.

“They will come off,” he says, gesturing with his hand towards the chain and cuffs, “only if I permit it. At meal times.” He pauses. “And bath time.”

What relief might have come with the thought of being alone in the bath--those sweet moments of privacy--dissipates a few minutes afterward, when he leads you, hands uncuffed and sore, into the bathroom.

Only he doesn’t, as usual, usher you inside and give you privacy to change and wash yourself. He doesn’t even turn around. He simply stares at you, until anxiety forces you to speak, your voice a squeaky whisper.

“Aren’t you going to…” The full sentence doesn’t come. Aren’t you going to leave? Let me get undressed? Look away?

He only blinks at you.

“No.” The word is short and clipped and awful in its simplicity. “You might try something. You’ve lost the right to privacy.”

Heat rises to your cheek and awful bile claws up your throat with it. He can’t--he wouldn’t look; that is one thing he never did, despite all his hovering and controlling.

He must catch your thoughts, because from behind the mask comes an almost throaty murmur. “I’m not base. I’m only watching to make sure you don’t do something dangerous to yourself or others.” He swallows, his throat bobbing. “Don’t trouble yourself about that.”

Oh, but you do trouble yourself. Your hands shake as you pull off your nightgown, smelling of sweat from last night’s activities, and fold it carefully on the countertop. Shame crawls inside your stomach and you cover yourself as best you can, shifting positions as you step into the tub.

Your hands reach instinctively to draw the curtain behind you, only to realize that the curtain that you usually pull for your showers is gone.

“Take a bath,” he says, simply. “Until you’ve earned the curtain back.”

Something low rumbles in your stomach and you know it’s not hunger. Slowly, you lower yourself down into the tub, pulling your knees to your chest to cover as much as possible. Because he’s still just--staring at you.

He stares even as you turn on the water and begin to fill the tub and wash yourself, quickly as can be, with hot water and soap. Showering usually felt good; it was like taking away a layer of invisible grime that built up around him. But with his eyes on you the entire time, it’s like the grime sticks to your skin, no matter how much you scrub.

The lack of commentary on your nakedness is somehow just as worse than his gaze upon it.

Life, such as it was, quickly turns to shit.

Overhaul keeps you chained to the bed unless he’s in the room. And even then, there are times where he insists you stay cuffed or leashed to the bed like a wayward dog.

“You can’t be trusted on your own,” is all he says, if you ask him about it.

He doesn’t look away when you get dressed. When you bathe. Even when you go to the bathroom.

When you protest too much, when you squirm and kick at the chain and pull your hands harshly against the cuffs, he merely threatens to gag you; to tighten the chain; to leave you cuffed when you bathe and eat, which means he’ll be the one doing the scrubbing and the feeding.

You stop fighting, after that. The threat hits your chest hard and you’re forced to accept the new routine.

That’s what it is, after all. A routine.

You accept it for what it is--life, now. A new reality.

It’s your new reality that you sleep in soft nightgowns with a cold chain around your ankle and a cuff on your wrist. It’s your new reality that Overhaul stands and stares while you bathe, taking in your body and occasionally critiquing your washing technique.

It’s your new reality that you have no such thing as privacy, no such thing as softness or entertainment or the quiet enjoyment that comes (however unbidden) from reading your books in the afternoon or drawing on a fresh sheet of paper.

Now, you have only yourself and Overhaul and the basic functions of life.

“You’ve been behaving,” he remarks one day. A simple compliment for the simple act of no longer fighting against the cuffs, no longer tugging at the chain around your ankle.

It’s true, though. You haven’t fought. Or argued about the new rules. And you haven’t so much as thought about another escape attempt. The last one was so futile, and look where it got you? Chained and stared at, like an animal in a zoo; hardly worth the effort.

But–but, but, but. When you go into the bathroom that morning, the shower curtain is back.

He doesn’t turn around when you change, and it doesn’t bother you because, after all---it’s a start.

And that night--

“The handcuffs will stay off,” he tells you mildly, locking the chain around your ankle, “if you continue to behave.”

You do behave.

The next week, it is the chain that will stay off--if you continue to behave. And you strive to behave, because the thrill of being able to properly toss and turn and curl up in bed is worth it. And it’s not as if misbehaving got you anywhere before, did it?

And one blissful morning, you wake up to find your books returned. Your papers. And--not pencils, no. Large crayons, the kind you give to children. Still, still, it’s something.

You swear you can see his smile from behind the mask as you marvel at them, thinking of the ways you’ll be able to occupy yourself with the bright, waxy colors.

“These will remain,” he says, “if you continue to behave.”

And you do--

You do behave.

#yandere overhaul #yandere kai chisaki #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere #afterwitch writes

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peachesofteal · 3 months ago

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Fae Simon strikes me as the kind that would lure and trap his future wife in a fairy ring. She doesn't believe in magic or superstition when she steps across the ring...until a masked figure appears out of thin air and spirits here away to his realm.

This gave me brain worms for Gaz (and I'm already working on another fae Simon piece so)

female reader / 18+ mdni - dubcon(ish)

"So sorry. You alright love?"

The stranger's hand curls around your elbow, steadying the precarious tip of your body, balance disrupted by the impact of his shoulder to your chest. "My fault. Didn't see you there."

Fuzzy synapses fire in your brain. They reach for one another, desperate to click together, to link their hands and jolt you back into the moment.

You blink. The wind turns cold.

"It's... okay." He's beautiful. Blinding. Terrifying. Something about the angles of his face, his cheekbones, his brow, forces your head to cock, sight focused and then unfocused, as if you're staring at a star.

Your mind feels empty. The sidewalk becomes a bog, fetid and thick beneath your feet.

Where have you gone? Lost somewhere?

He doesn't let go. The axis tilts, world stopping on a dime, collective breath stalled on an inhale, and you stay trapped there, a hand on your elbow, rooted to the ground.

Lovely girl. It purrs in your heart. Precious thing.

His chest brushes yours, his nose to your neck. A deep inhale, and his fingers glide up to your pulse point.

He murmurs something. You break the surface of the water, and blink. "I'm sorry?"

"Said, do you want me to take you home." The question doesn't end in the proper inflection, and you scramble to consider it, to let it sink in-

until he takes your hand.

"Fuck. Oh-" His tongue laps over your clit, fingers spread in a V through your folds, sticky dew webbed through his teeth, coating his tongue, his chin. He smirks.

"Going to come again?"

"Yeah," you breathe, spine arched, hips rolling in his grip. "Please." You tremble for him, cry for him, and he laps up the salt of your tears, savoring before swallowing, taking as many pieces as he can into himself.

The more the better.

He works you up and over the hill, pussy tight around his fingers, and as you lay prone and panting, he pulls your calf up to his shoulder, heavy cock nestled at your seam.

"Condom?" you slur, head rolling to your neck, satiated gaze peeking up through your lashes.

"Of course." He soothes, lies, smoothing a palm down your cheek, his nose touching to yours. It forces some friction, head notching against your swollen and tender bud, your gasp swallowed up in his mouth.

More pieces.

"Kyle," you whine, and it sounds so good, feathery and sweet, precious like you.

He takes no more time, and thrusts himself deep, burrowing into your body with a groan. You seize, fluttering around him, crown of his cock too deep for comfort, trembles wracking your spine. Wet heat explodes around him, and he chuckles. "Coming again, then?" He flexes his hips. "Hungry little slut, aren't you?" You nod, delirious, fingernails dug into his forearms, slicing at his skin.

"Fuck me, Kyle, p-please." He squeezes your calf, drawing away completely, before slamming back until his balls shove against the curve of your ass, your shriek music to his ears.

He needs you to cry. Needs to swallow as many as he can. Needs to collect each one, make sure they stick, but it's more than that. He's craven, fueled by a desire to possess you, claim you, drag you beneath the veil. Flint to steel shoots off sparks in his blood, the craze of the hunt, the chase, echoing through the slap of skin, your hiccups and moans, the crack of your bones.

He bites your calf muscle and croons. "Almost there."

"D-don't stop." You plead, already on the cusp again, pussy trying to milk him dry, pull his cock deeper, body knowing it all before your mind.

Your eyes are surprisingly hypnotic. Nearly magical, pooled with a connection he's never felt. More resilient than expected.

Lovely girl is special, it seems. He's not surprised. He followed your scent from blocks away. Honeysuckle and ocean spray.

Once he fucks you full of his come, collects all his pieces, it won't matter how naturally resistant you are.

Everything tightens, your cunt, his legs, his grip. You scream, coming again, and he buries himself, flooding you with thick ropes, your spasms only pulling them deeper, hungry for it, betrayed by your body.

You're still afterwards, staring at the ceiling, eyes wide.

"Did so good, sweet thing." He strokes over your skin, tongue tracing stripes on the slope of your neck, dabbing at the sweat there. You murmur something incoherent, and he pulls you tighter into his chest.

When his fingers tuck inside your weeping pussy, swirling together in the mess there and massaging it upward, you don't even stir.

The sun sets, and he lingers on the edge of your mattress before curving over your sleeping form.

His lips graze your neck. "Sleep well, lovely girl."

The forest is too tall.

What are you doing here? Where have you gone?

Everything stretches beyond your reach, long spindly fingers reaching for the sun, blotting it out, plunging the worlds beneath the canopy into darkness. It lives, it breathes, inhaling and exhaling as one, splitting open brambles and bracken before you, a path cleaving wide through overgrown deciduous trees and verdure.

It's a jewel, an emerald caught in sunlight, brilliant, unending green sparkling across the forest floor, ferns and fiddleheads shivering free from morning dew as you brush by them, roots and branches calling to you, to one another, darkening the path at your back.

You're not sure how you got here, how your legs carried you deeper and deeper into the woods, fire burning at your back, urging you forward, a pull resonating in the marrow of your bones, a song thrumming in your heart.

Something calls to you.

And in the back of your mind, something else wails in terror.

Ancient places have claws. They snag and scrape, slowly scratching away body and mind, breaking down resistance, intelligence, all human instinct designed to protect you, save you, from yourself, from a spell.

You've gone somewhere it cannot follow.

The trees wilt into arches, framing a long shadowed hallway, pointing you the direction you will not stray from, a path pulling your feet, one in front of the other.

The end holds a moment. A soft, green swath of grass, encapsulated by a ring of mushrooms, a proud hawthorne tree at its center. You have no words in you, but if you did, they'd be ones of awe.

And when the stranger from the street, the one from your bed, Kyle, appears from behind the gnarled trunk, something swells in your belly.

A blackened vine snaps and snarls at you, resists the lure of this man, this creature, sharp wails drowned out by the mere sight of him.

"Hello." Your fingers knit together at your waist. He smiles. It stuns you like you've been stabbed.

"Hello, lovely girl."

"I think... I'm think I'm lost." Not lost. You're not lost. You're not supposed to be here. The vine tries to grow into your muscle and bone, desperately wrapping itself around anything it can.

"You're exactly where you should be." He steps forward, closer, a hand extended to where you linger, just outside the ring of mushrooms.

The vine screams. It begs. You're killing it.

His eyes narrow.

"Will you join me?" His voice soothes the raw, ferocious thing clinging to you. It feels nice.

Still, your feet do not carry you forward, and he sighs, striding to the edge of the circle.

"What's happening?" The panic fogs your mind, and thick mist rolls in around the two of you. He softens, expression turning kind, sweet.

"It's alright, you're safe with me." He takes your hand, thumb massaging a pattern onto your palm.

The shrieking falls away, dying, crying on a final breath.

"You have to say it." He instructs gently. "Will you join me?"

The forest falls away. The mist climbs to an immeasurable height, the hawthorne tree twisting, bark shredding wide into a gaping hole, a star filled hollow.

The wind turns cold. A lullaby drifting on its current, a forgotten song ringing in your ears.

Where have you gone? Lost somewhere?

Lost in him.

"Yes."

#1000% just vibes I fear #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #peaches writes #really trying to shake the rust but

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charliemwrites · 11 months ago

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Part 5 of Obsessive!johnny

(CW: extremely dubious consent; I’d go so far as to say straight non-con. No violence. Please be safe, beans! 💕)

It’s your own fault - or no. That’s a dangerous way of thinking it not your fault. But you got complacent. Got desensitized to that looming sense of danger, the threat hiding in the shadow of his eyes. That little voice in the back of your head became background noise, not the guide it used to be.

All it took was a slip of your carefully crafted mask understanding Johnny’s “love” for you. Just one careless comment, a tone too honest.

You don’t even remember what you said now. Just that the feverish light in his eyes changed instantly. Like a shift in sunlight through colored glass. What frightened you was how his expression changed, shut down hard. His jaw tensing, brows going deceptively smooth.

“Is all this not enough for you?” he asks, taking big, measured steps towards you.

You start backing up, heart tripping over itself. “That’s not-“

“How many ways do you need me to prove it, hm?” he asks. “I’ve apologized a hundred times, bonnie, haven’t I? Is that not enough for you? I’m still not worth it to you?”

You put your hands up, all your carefully crafted and scripted responses fleeing in the face of this new, unfamiliar Johnny. He’s - he’s angry at you. Not because of you, or for you, but at you.

“I’ve been patient, haven’t I?” he continues, low voice wavering with something frightening. “Do you know how hard it is, seeing you cry for a life that wasn’t good enough for you? Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been trying?”

You swallow thickly, try to rally your scrambled thoughts. He just working himself up more and more and that voice that fell so quiet is screaming now. So loud it’s hard to make your mouth work.

“I-I know. I’m sorry,” you manage. “Im just… I lost my temper and said something I didn’t mean…”

His eyes narrow. “Oh, no, hen. I think you meant it.”

He up close to you now, barely a centimeter of space between your bodies. The heat of him is suffocating. You’ve never been so aware of how much bigger than you he is. It thrilled you when he’d loom over you at the bar, cocky confidence and easy smiles.

You meet his eyes.

And for a moment, he softens. You have the briefest golden flicker of hope.

And then he sighs. Deep and resigned. Your stomach flips.

“It’s my fault,” he mutters finally, shaking his head. “Haven’t been treating you right, have I?”

You don’t dare answer.

“Treating you like you’re one thing when you’re really everything.”

You open your mouth, try to speak, to reason with him. He just shushes you with a hand on your cheek, thumb pressing your lips closed.

“Always spoiling you like the princess you are, when sometimes you need to be treated like a slut.”

He jerk’s you around and shoves you onto the bed, plants a big hand between your shoulder blades and presses.

“Soap!”

“Hush up, baby, it’s alright. You don’t have to pretend to be all prim and proper,” he soothes, knocking your feet apart. “I don’t think any less of you for needing cock. Only natural.”

Your underwear rips like wet paper, accompanied by your high-pitched squeal of alarm. He makes a low, rough noise. Pure, animal lust. The fabric of his pants chafes against the backs of your thighs.

“Oh, there she is,” he purrs, “just like I thought.”

You cry out as rough fingers drag through your slit, gathering the slick you can’t believe is leaking from you.

“I’ve been so bad to you, bonnie, not treating you the way you need. No wonder you got all fussy and snappy.” The hazy thought that he might not he talking to you at all anymore burns through you. When you shift, trying to close your legs self-consciously, a sharp slap to your clit collapses your knees.

“We’re gonna set you right, babygirl,” he growls. “Won’t be able to worry your pretty little head anymore.”

He plunges two fingers into you without preamble. The stretch is vicious, but it doesn’t hurt. Not really. You’re too wet. Still, you scream - because Johnny’s spent so many hours playing with you, learning you, that he knows exactly where to press and curl and rub his fingers.

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, tears already collecting in your eyes because he’s being mean about it, twisting to grind his thumb against your clit. It’s too much, you’re not ready no matter what your body says. “Soap, don’t- ngh!”

“Gonna show you why you’re better off here. Right here. Gonna give this pretty cunt what it needs.”

The third finger is a stretch. You try to get away, try to crawl onto the bed to run, but he stomps a boot onto the chain around your ankle and flattens you to the mattress.

“Keep pretending if you want, baby,” he murmurs, “I know what you really need now.”

He’s withdrawing his fingers while you’re still pleading and babbling. You’re horrified to realize you don’t know if you want them back. It doesn’t matter though. Because Johnny’s cock is splitting you open before you can decide, thicker and longer than you’ve ever taken. He curses and groans as he pushes into you, inch by hot inch. Until you feel the fat leaking head tap at your cervix and he grinds, balls kissing your clit.

“T-too much!” you sob. “‘S too much!! Johnny, Johnny, please!”

Heat floods you as he shudders, hips jerking hard and rough. By your head, his fist is white-knuckled in the sheets.

“Did… did you just…?”

“Say my name again,” he snarls.

You blink wetly. “W-wha…?”

“Say. It. Again.” Each word punctuated by a brutal thrust. Something drips down your thigh.

“J-Johnny,” you keen, trying to beg for mercy.

“Jus’ like that.” He’s still hard. Still so fucking hard it’s like you’ve been edging him for hours. Like he didn’t just flood your poor pussy with cum.

“Been dreaming of you saying my name. Haven’t all this time,” he pants, rocking into you hard and fast. Any semblance of restraint is long gone. “Now I know why. Finally fuckin’ earned it. Gonna keep earnin’ it from now on.”

He fucks you so hard the bed leaves dents in the wall. Forces a hand beneath your pelvis to pinch your clit between two fingers and hurtles you shrieking into an orgasm. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause for a single beat. Just hitches your knee up onto the mattress and somehow fucks into your harder, faster, deeper. His fingers rub cruel circles into your oversensitive clit and you burn.

“No, no, wait, Johnny- ah! No, I’m gonna - it feels like-”

Wet heat gushes from you, spilling down your thighs, all over the bed and floor. You - you -

“Fuck, you squirted everywhere, good fuckin’ girl, princess.” He slows just a bit, presumably to appreciate the mess you’ve made. You’re too far gone on shock and awful pleasure to do more than sniffle and hiccup pathetically.

And then a death sentence.

“Do it again.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #obsessive johnny

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best-cosmetics123 · 10 months ago

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#acne #Aloe Vera #Aloe Vera Mask #Anti-aging #Dr Rashel #Dr Rashel Mask #Essence Mask #Hydration #Natural Ingredients #nourishment #Skin glow #skin radiance #Skincare #Soothe & Smooth #Soothe & Smooth mask

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starmocha · 4 months ago

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tag, you're it Sylus/Reader | 2423 words | AO3 Sylus loves playing games. A/N: He can teleport from places with his evol? The hide-and-seek comment???? I know what I must do. MDNI

This was so unfair. Absolutely unfair!

You looked around the expansive room of wide space and high ceiling. The carpeted floor masked the sound of your heels, so all you could hear in the space was pure silence, adding further a sense of dread in the pit of your stomach. You breathed in uneasily, truly feeling small, alone, and insignificant in the large overwhelming space. As you walked through the room cautiously, eyes darting to every nook and cranny, every corner and possible hiding spot, you realized they were nearly nonexistent.

There was no place to hide, so then where—

“Gotcha.”

You gasped as you found yourself pulled into a tight embrace, the residual swirls of black energy and his deep, sultry voice were your only initial indications of his sudden presence. You looked up frowning.

“Sylus, this is such an unfair disadvantage to me!”

He smirked at your outcry, tilting his head to the side in amusement. “I prefer to think of it as a challenge for you, my dear. Makes the game all the more entertaining.”

He pushed you up against the closest wall, towering over you as he kept you trapped there by his imposing form. He leaned down and brushed his nose against yours teasingly. “What’s the matter? This little kitten no longer enjoys playing games with me?”

You glared at him.

“Don’t glare at me like that, sweetheart,” he said, his hand cradling your chin as his thumb brushed over your cheek. He laughed, pretending to sound hurt, “I might think you don’t like me anymore.”

“What if I don’t?” you countered defiantly, unperturbed by his dominating presence.

He laughed again. “Petulant little kitten today, aren’t you?” His thumb continued to rub little soothing circles on your cheek as he peered down at you with a devilish smile. “You have no problem sneaking up on me and poking me in the side, but when I have my fun, suddenly I am the bad guy? Sweetheart, aren’t you being unfair as well?”

You sulked, hating how he was calling you out like this.

“Such a little hypocrite,” he teased, amused and unbothered when you glared back up at him.

He leaned in closer, stealing your lips in a quick surprise kiss. “Let’s play again,” his warm breath brushed over your lips, his voice a soft, seductive whisper, “I’ll make it more enjoyable for you this time.”

His words and voice filled you with a sense of anticipation, a warm feeling creeping up in your belly replaced the earlier trepidation. You looked up at him questionably, your voice barely holding steady as you questioned him, “Like…how?”

He hummed to himself, his hand smoothing over your hair. He pecked your lips again and whispered, “Catch me if you can.”

Before you could react, he disappeared from view, leaving behind a trail of black swirling energy and dark feathers as the only evidences of his earlier presence. You caught a single feather in your hand, caressing it softly and curiously before it disappeared.

You looked around the room, finding yourself alone again. You sighed, “Sylus…”

You explored the room again with a renewed sense of purpose. You searched the area, trying to sense his presence before he caught you. It was easier said than done, you realized hopelessly. Catching lightning in a bottle would be easier than catching him.

As you turned around, you gasped when your eyes met his torso. When you looked up, he kissed you, commenting quickly, “One.”

And then he disappeared.

Your cheeks burned up.

You started running around the room, calling out to him. You nearly fumbled when he appeared suddenly in front of you, his quick reflex catching you by the waist before you could stumble back. He leaned over you, bending down to capture your lips once more, and whispered, “Two.”

He steadied you back on your feet before disappearing again.

You flustered as the residual black feathers drifted around you. “Very funny!” you yelled out, your voice echoing in the room.

Your stomach did flips when you heard his dark laughter echoed back in the room.

This game of chase went on for several minutes with you failing to catch him or dodge his advances, but the more kisses he left behind, the more excited you felt, briefly forgetting your earlier annoyance and aggravation with him.

“Oh!” you cried out, feeling a sudden firm grasp around your wrist, and a tug that pulled you backwards. You looked up just as Sylus leaned down, kissing you once more. He whispered, “Six…”

And then he was gone, leaving you standing there bewildered. You wondered if there was any significance behind his counting other than the number of times he had caught you. You walked forward, distracted by your thoughts and unaware that he had been standing just a few feet away waiting for you.

You gasped when you walked straight into him, hearing a deep, amused rumble of laughter above you.

This time he leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Seven,” he said, hushed, “Concentrate.”

And then he was gone.

It didn’t matter what you did, because he quickly secured his eighth and ninth kisses, leaving you befuddled each time he disappeared. By this point, you had given up on trying to catch him, and was just letting him come to you.

“Hm?” You looked up and saw a black feather drifting down in front of you from above and you smiled, turning around just as he pinned you back up against another wall. You laughed when he stole another kiss. He murmured against your lips, “Mmm, ten,” he pecked you again, “You’re it.”

You looked up at him with exasperation. “That’s not how you play tag,” you scolded him.

He shrugged. “I like my version more,” he answered dismissively with a roguish grin. “Do I get a prize for winning?”

“For winning a nonexistent game with your own made-up rules?”

He nodded unabashedly, smirking when you sighed in annoyance. He laughed and leaned down, nibbling on your neck. “Mmm,” he hummed again as he covered your neck in kisses. His voice was a lazy murmur, “I am not hearing a ‘no.’”

You relaxed against the wall, the feel of his heavy body against yours was welcoming as were the sweet kisses he left behind. “Fine,” you conceded, eyes averting his, “You win.”

He chuckled, surprised. “What? No more protests? No more tantrums?” He leaned back and looked down at you amused. “I was enjoying your little petulant attitude today.”

You looked up, pursing your lips at him, and for a brief moment, he seemed to soften before his usual domineering temperament returned.

“What’s with that doe-eyed look?” He tucked strands of hair behind your ear. “Makes me want to be a bad guy and ruin you.”

Your mouth remained shut and your demeanor stayed the same. Sylus raised a brow in curiosity when you didn’t react to his latter comment. He leaned down again and nibbled on your bottom lip. “Your silence,” he murmured, “Can I take that to be…an invitation then?”

Your cheeks tinged a faint shade of red, and his own crimson eyes darkened with desire.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured again, “Answer me.”

“Yes…” you admitted softly.

There was a brief instant of surprise on Sylus’ face before it disappeared. “So docile now,” he said more to himself. “I asked for a prize, but perhaps I should also reward your sweet behavior.”

He lowered himself, getting down on one knee to your confusion.

“Sylus?”

He shushed you, and gestured for you to lean back against the wall, guiding your hands to his strong shoulders to steady your balance. He trailed his hand down the long slit of your black dress, slipping in under the fabric to find the lacey hem of your underwear. He made quick work of sliding the undergarment down, and you startled, gasping.

“Steady,” he murmured, as he guided it down, making sure you don’t stumble in your heels. “Don’t trip, sweetheart.”

“Sylus…what are you…”

He looked up, smiling with a suggestive raise of his brow after tucking it away in his pants pocket to your sheer embarrassment. “Isn’t it obvious?” The deep, sultry tone stirred something within you and your cheeks took on another darker shade of red. He continued, “I am rewarding this sweet little docile kitten, of course.”

“I…”

“Stay still, sweetheart,” he cut you off, and brushed the skirt of your dress aside. He settled between your legs, his hand cupping your sex.

You gasped from the sudden contact.

He calmed you with another shush. “Let me reward you,” he crooned, and then his tongue drove into the darkness between your legs, and you had to grip his shoulders again to hold steady.

“Sylus!”

He ignored your cries, his only focus was on you, tasting you and giving you the pleasure that he knew only he could bring. He lapped eagerly, greedily, taking in the sound of your moans above him, one hand finding your hip to grasp it firmly, keeping you in place.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders and you cried from each stroke of his tongue. You rocked against him when his thumb found your clit, circling it teasingly and drawing out more of your needy cries.

“Sylus…ah…” Your knees buckled, and he pulled away and looked up, seeing your flushed face looking back at him. He licked his lips.

As he stood up, your eyes drifted to the large bulge between his legs and you swallowed slowly, feeling yourself throbbing with a growing need for him. Your eyes skirted up to meet his knowing gaze and he mouthed to you: “Help me.”

Without a word, you helped free him from his confine, and just as quickly he scooped you up into his strong arms, keeping you pressed back into the wall, your legs slipping from the slit of your skirt to hook around his waist. You gasped as he aligned himself flushed with your wet, waiting entrance, and then with a movement of his hip, you held on tight as he slid inside you.

Your breath hitched. “Sy-Sylus…!”

He groaned as your walls stretched to accommodate him as more and more of him filled you. He leaned down to press a kiss into your shoulder, and then he pulled out, slow, deliberate, before he thrusted back in, the movement causing you to tighten your hold around him as stars filled your vision.

“Taking me so well,” he mumbled. Dark, crimson eyes pierced into yours as he continued, “The only one I want…the only woman I need…”

You bit down on your lips, feeling a moan threatening to slip.

Sylus noticed the gesture, and he growled softly in disapproval. “Don’t hold back,” he ordered, “I want to hear that pretty little voice of yours.”

You shook your head, unwillingly letting a moan escaped when a powerful thrust caused you to cry out this time. “Someone…ahh…will hear us.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighed against your lips. His right index finger twitched behind you, and then the sound of several locks clicked all around you in the large room. Sylus continued speaking, “No one is coming in here. This will be our private playground for hours to come.”

Your head lolled to the side with another moan. You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, a smile emerging as you allowed yourself to fully surrender to him.

“Scream all you want,” he said, kissing your forehead, “It’s just you and me.”

All other meaningless thoughts escaped, being replaced by a deep haze of pleasure, the only thing on both of your minds was each other. The feel of him deep inside you, the mingled moans that seemed to echo in the large room, and the state of euphoria you were both chasing.

“Oh, god,” you whimpered, “M-more…ahh…Sylus…ahh…”

He answered you with a deep hum, his movements steadily increasing, his grip on you tightening, threatening to leave bruises on your skin. You leaned down, your forehead pressed against his, and you couldn’t help but admire how handsome he looked, almost ethereal, even, perhaps more so than normal now that he was also losing himself in this state of pure arousal.

“Ah—” Helpless, you peered into his eyes, your voice coming out in needy little whines and whimpers as you felt a familiar feeling rising inside you.

“Gonna cum for me?” he murmured, thrusting up into you steadily faster, harder.

You whined in response, unable to form any coherent word, only able to let him know through the needy little sounds you were making. You tightened your hold around his neck. He groaned as he felt you were clenching around him.

“I want to see you cum, sweetheart, want you to cum all over my cock,” he said, his movements growing more hurried, more graceless. “Look at you, ah, such a sweet pretty little thing—oh, fuck…—ah, and all mine...”

You buried your face into his shoulder, crying out your release as he continued to drive into you with graceless abandon, his own climax was nearing. You held onto him desperately, letting him used you for his own pleasure now. He groaned when you dug your nails into his back, feeling it through the fabric of his shirt.

“Sy-Sylus…!”

He panted, and then, he stilled, groaning as he emptied into you, filling you with ropes of his cum.

“O-oh…”

You felt your back touched the wall, Sylus letting all of the weight dropping forward, as he held you in his arms. You leaned forward, your head resting in the crook of his neck as you felt him softening inside you.

As both of your breathing evened out, you felt him slide out of you, a pleased groan leaving his lips as he watched his seed dripped down your thighs. He helped steadied you to your feet momentarily before sitting down against the wall, drawing you into his lap, the skirt of your dress draped over the both of you.

You lay against him, your head resting on his chest. Sylus hummed softly and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. His hand gently held your head close to his chest, fingers moving in gentle, soothing strokes. He looked down at you on his lap, curled up so sweetly against him, and he smiled, feeling a sense of fondness for you.

“Game over,” he murmured as he allowed you to rest in his arms, and he, too, closed his eyes briefly to rest.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace fanfiction #lnds fanfics #love and deepspace x reader #lnds smut #sylus smut #sylus x reader #x — fanfics #infold #this is all of your fault #with each new sylus teaser #i become so disgustingly down bad for him #sighs #at least i didn't sacrifice sleep to write this time #but it was written on three hours of sleep #...#that's no better is it #help

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cimmanonrowl · 5 months ago

Text

urs

Your father’s best friend is a man of principles. And as much as you want him to be your very first, Aaron Hotchner couldn’t bring himself to corrupt you.

Pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner x virgin!reader

Theme: smut mallows

Contents: age gap, gentle first-time sex, unprotected sex, size difference, praise kink, sweet!aaron, angst somewhere, cliffhanger (?)

You barely managed to suppress a squeal of joy as you frantically smoothed your disheveled curls and checked your appearance in the hallway mirror. From where you are standing, you can hear the boisterous laughter of your father mingling with the deep and soothing voice of Aaron Hotchner talking animatedly downstairs.

It only means one thing.

He’s visiting.

And your heart almost exploded at the idea.

With light and careful steps, you bolted down the stairs, quickly trudging towards the spacious living room where your father and his best friend were talking. Your anticipation rose higher with each step, and by the time you reached the staircase landing, your face was flushed with excitement. Eagerly, you rounded the corner, your eyes scanning the room until they landed on a certain man whose sight alone was enough to knock you off your feet.

Aaron Hotchner was standing near the fireplace, absorbed by the conversation he was having with your father, his tall frame and commanding presence impossible to miss.

“Aaron!” You called out, your voice bright and laced with obvious adoration.

Aaron whirled instantly at the sound of your voice, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“Oh, hey there,” he greeted back, mirroring your wide grin.

You crossed the room in quick strides and flung your arms around him, which he returned with an amused chuckle. His arms wrapped tightly around you in a familiar, comforting embrace. And the first whiff of his scent threw you off-guard. It feels like falling in love with him all over again. The very same way you felt on your 25th birthday when he asked you for a dance and wrapped you in his gentle warmth in the middle of the dance floor.

The closeness now was making you dizzy; the heavy scent of his perfume, the firmness of his body, and the feeling of being held by him after so long.

“It’s so good to see you!” You chirped, your voice muffled against his shoulder. You clung to him a moment longer than necessary, enjoying the contact. “It’s been a while since you dropped by. I thought you forgot about us!”

Aaron chuckled at your whiny voice.

“It's good to see you too,” He pulled back from the hug but kept his hands on your shoulders as he stared back at you. “I’m sorry, work’s been keeping me busy. How have you been?”

You smiled up at him. “Great. You know, same as always. Just busy with work and everything.”

You tried sounding casual to not appear too excited. You felt his rough hands squeeze your shoulders gently before finally letting go.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

As he released you, a pang of disappointment swirled down your stomach, but you quickly masked it with another bright smile.

With a tentative step back, you clasped your hands behind you and rocked back and forth in your heels, still staring at him. Aaron chuckled softly at your innocent gesture, a sound that sent a chill through your spine.

“Aaron’s just in town for a bit, sweetheart. They just finished a case,” Your father chimed in with a smile, watching your usual interaction with his best friend. “Thought he’d drop by and catch up.”

“Well, I’m glad you did,” You mumbled, your gaze never leaving Aaron’s face.

Aaron replied quietly, smiling at you. “Me too. It’s always nice to be here.”

Your heart hammered against your chest almost painfully. Jesus Christ, this man is aging like a fine wine. You doubt you’ve seen anyone as handsome and attractive as he is. He always looked so good in your eyes. And it seems like he’s getting hotter and hotter every time you get to see him. Is it even possible for someone to look this good? Shouldn’t this be a federal crime?

Before you could even stop yourself, the words slipped out of your lips.

“You really should come by more often, Aaron,” You suggested out of nowhere, a hint of hopefulness in your tone. “I mean… you know… it’s just me and Dad here. It’s not like we have a lot of friends who come over.”

Your heart soared as he continued staring at you. Heat rushed through your face because of that. You started panicking in your head. Was that out of line? Was that too much? Oh God, maybe that’s too much. He must be thinking you’re desperate for company- his company. Or maybe he thinks you’re weird for asking th—

“I’ll try, angel,” his expression remained soft as he nodded. “Promise.”

You let out a soft sigh.

Seems like he didn’t mind too much.

The late afternoon sun casted a warm glow over the backyard of your home. Aaron and your father stood by the grill, occupied in a seemingly humorous conversation, the smell of grilled meat wafting through the open air. Both of them had cold beers in hand, laughing and chatting as they tended to the meat they were grilling.

It was a quiet afternoon.

By the pool, you decided to lounge on a large swan floater, enjoying the last hours of the day. You were clad in a white bikini adorned with soft pink ribbons that fluttered slightly in the gentle breeze. A pair of oversized sunglasses shielded your eyes from the sun as you sipped on a mango smoothie, humming quietly to yourself.

A thick book lay open in your lap, but your attention was divided. Aaron would often catch you glancing up, watching him and your father with a small smile on your lips. He’d only mirror your smile and go back to their conversation, leaving you to your own thoughts and your fluttering, little heart.

The sight of Aaron, relaxed and at ease, filled you with a sense of relief and contentment. He was wearing a navy blue shirt and denim pants, all casual and handsome from where he was standing. You couldn’t help but admire the way he laughed at your father’s terrible jokes, his eyes crinkling at the very corners.

The sound of his deep, hearty laughter echoed in your ears.

How you wish you could always have him around.

Despite the book in your hands, you couldn’t focus so much on reading. Your thoughts kept drifting back to Aaron: the way he looked, the sound of his voice, the warmth of his presence. You could barely remember the first time you found him attractive. Maybe somewhere deep down, you’ve always known he’s the most attractive man you have ever met.

You took another sip of your smoothie, savoring the sweet, tangy flavor as you unconsciously let your gaze linger on him… again.

“How’s that book?” Your father called out, glancing over at you with a smile.

You grinned, raising your voice slightly to be heard over the water splashing. “It’s good. But I’m enjoying the sun more.”

Aaron looked over at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You look like you’re having a great time,” he said, his eyes briefly wandering on your bare legs before returning to your face.

Crimson red dusted your already flushed cheeks.

“Well, I am...” Your voice trembled a little, your heart fluttering at the attention. “And I’m hungry. That smells good I can’t focus here.”

Your father chuckled, flipping a burger on the grill. “Just wait until you taste these burgers, sweetheart. Aaron here has some secret grilling tips.”

“No, no. I’ll be the judge of that, Dad.”

You laughed, leaning back on the swan floater. And as Aaron’s gaze landed in your direction again, he took a swig of his cold beer.

“We’ll make sure to save you the best one,” he said, his voice warm and teasing. “I bet you’ll forget your own name.”

“Oh, that’s cocky!”

He chuckled at your reaction. “Just a little fact.”

“As I said, I’ll be judge of that."

You beamed at him, feeling a ribbon of happiness twirling in your stomach.

The evening eventually settled into a comfortable night. After a delicious dinner Aaron insisted on preparing, the three of you moved to the living room. The television was on and cast a soft glow in the dimmed space as a series played.

Aaron and your father sat on the large couch, sipping on their brandy. While you occupied the solo couch, your legs tucked beneath you as you watched the scenes intently, munching on the red velvet cupcake Aaron brought for you earlier.

“Oh, oh—” You shrieked, covering your eyes quickly as you reached an intense moment between the main characters, the tension was so thick that you felt uncomfortable watching it with your father.

Aaron glanced at you and chuckled, licking the bitter alcohol left in his lower lip.

“You okay?” He asked gently, amused by your reaction.

You shook your head while laughing. “That’s not— that shouldn’t be allowed. They look so good together!”

Aaron laughed in agreement, nodding his head in accord. But it quickly died down when your father joined the conversation.

“You know, it’s inappropriate, isn’t it? An old man with such a young woman,” your father suddenly commented, sipping on his drink before shaking his head.

You felt a slight flush of embarrassment. You found yourself darting your glance at Aaron to see his reaction. On his seat, he remained silent, his eyes focused on the screen, but you noticed the subtle tightening of his jaw.

“Really, Dad, that’s your concern?” You tried sounding playful, clearing your throat a little. “That’s literally her uncle. Doesn’t that freak you out?”

“Silly girl, of course, it does!” You chuckled awkwardly at your father’s dry reply. “It’s already wrong from our moral standpoint. What I’m saying is, that’s a grown man hitting on a young woman. That’s highly inappropriate.”

Aaron took a slow sip of his drink, still not commenting, but you could sense the discomfort radiating from him. You shifted in your seat, feeling a mix of curiosity and unease.

“It definitely makes you think,” your father continued, oblivious to the tension. “I mean, what could they possibly have in common?”

The scenes continued with you and Aaron both silent. After a few more moments, your father turned to Aaron with a more cheerful tone.

“So... have you been on any dates lately? You never talk about your love life.”

Aaron finally looked away from the TV, a slight smile tugging on his lips. “I’ve been busy with work, you know how it is. Haven’t had much time for dating.”

Your father’s interest was piqued, and so was yours. “Come on, there must be someone. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

Aaron chuckled, shaking his head. And suddenly, the red velvet cupcake no longer taste appetizing. It turned all bitter and dry against your tongue.

“I’ve had a few dates here and there, but nothing serious.”

“Oh, right. What’s her name again? Beth, right?”

You felt a pang of something you couldn’t quite name. Jealousy, maybe? Aaron dating other women was a topic you actually didn’t like to think about. And who the hell is Beth?

“Maybe you should settle down,” your father suggested, leaning back in his seat. “Find someone who can put up with your crazy work schedule. You know, after Haley divorced you because of that…”

Aaron laughed softly, but there was a hint of resignation in his tone. “Easier said than done.”

Your throat dried up as their conversation continued. It feels like you’ve been eating sand. You fidgeted on the cupcake box perched on your lap as you unconsciously glanced over the kitchen, thinking of getting yourself water. But Aaron’s eyes met yours briefly, and you felt a spark of something electric pass between you.

Which made you look away.

You tried to focus on the television screen, but your thoughts kept returning to Aaron, wondering if he ever thought of you as more than just his best friend’s daughter. Maybe not.

Definitely not.

The tension in the living room had become palpable you had to excuse yourself to the kitchen. As you walked away, you felt Aaron’s gaze lingering on you, sending a trail of shivers down your spine.

You let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding as you reached the kitchen. You filled a glass with cold water and took a slow sip, letting the cool liquid soothe your nerves. The silence of the kitchen contrasted with the awkwardness in the living room.

“Hey,” Aaron’s deep voice jolted you out of your thoughts.

You turned around to see him standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable. As always, your heart skipped a beat, wallowing from his very presence.

“Hey,” you said back, trying to sound casual, “you need something?”

“I just wanted to check on you.”

You forced a smile and didn’t say anything. Aaron took a step closer, the space between you shrinking until he was only a foot away. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, his presence and scent overwhelming your senses.

“I’m good.”

“Are you sure?” His voice was low, almost a whisper.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Hmm. Just too much cupcake. Too sweet.”

His eyes softened as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. The gentle touch made you blush, and you found yourself leaning into his hand, craving for more.

“Aaron,” your voice trembled as you whispered the words, “This... I don’t know what to do with this.”

He sighed, his thumb caressing your cheek.

The world seemed to have gone quiet. The hum of the refrigerator, the distant sound of the TV in the other room— all of it faded into the background. All you could focus on was Aaron, and the way his attention narrowed down on you. Like you’re the only one that matters in his world.

Almost as if in a trance, you pushed on your tiptoes, leaning in to Aaron’s lips. Blood rushed through your head with your own action. You could feel his breath on your lips, the hint of alcohol intoxicating.

But just as your lips were about to meet, Aaron pulled back abruptly. His jaw clenched when he glanced down at you.

“We can’t do this.”

“Aaron…”

He shook his head, stepping back further. “It’s not right. You know that.”

“I don’t understand. I thought... I thought you felt the same.”

Tears welled up in your eyes.

“This is inappropriate,” He said instead, his voice strained. “I’m sorry.”

You looked away, biting your lip to keep yourself from crying. Aaron sighed as he saw you keeping your tears at bay, his eyes filled with regret.

Silence enveloped you both for a moment, while the weight of his words was crushing your young, hopeful heart.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault you don’t feel the same…” your smile trembled before you finally walked passed him.

The night had grown late. After finishing the episode, your father called out it was time for bed. You quickly made your way to your room, bidding them both quick goodnight, trying to push aside the pain and disappointment from your earlier encounter with Aaron.

You slipped into your pajamas, a simple tank top, and silk shorts, and climbed into bed. The silence was comforting, allowing your thoughts to slowly drift away. You tried to focus on anything but Aaron, the silence of the night, the coldness of your room, but his face kept appearing in your mind, his words echoing in your ears— and the fact that he’s literally in the guest room next to yours.

Just as you were staring mindlessly at the ceiling, you heard a quiet knock on your door. Your heart leaped as you stood up, your breath caught in your throat.

“Who is it?” you called out softly, not entirely sure if you were dreaming.

The door creaked open, and there Aaron was, standing in the doorway. He looked hesitant as he stepped inside, his expression unreadable in the dim light of your room.

“Can I come in?” he asked cautiously, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded in silence, unable to trust your voice. He closed the door gently behind him as he finally stepped inside. The room felt even smaller with him in it, the air thick with tension.

“What are you doing here?” you finally managed to ask.

Aaron took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about... earlier.”

A bitter smile rose on your lips.

“I know I said it’s inappropriate,” his deep voice sounded strained as he went on. “But I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“What are you saying?”

He moved closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “That this is tearing me apart. I know it’s complicated, and I know I said it can’t happen, but... I can’t keep pretending that I don’t feel anything for you.”

The room filled with the quiet sound of your breathing as you both stood there, just staring at each other. You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Come here,” you said softly, pulling him closer.

Aaron hesitated for a split second, then stepped forward, wrapping you in a tight hug. You buried your face in his chest, inhaling his comforting scent. Being in his arms felt right. You know that no matter how complicated this is for you both, this is exactly where you want to be.

With him.

In his arms.

You tilted your head back, meeting his eyes again, and for a moment, the world stood still.

“Take me, Aaron…” you said in a whisper, blood rushing through your cheeks. “I want you to be my first.”

His body stiffened with what he heard.

“What? No, no. I can’t do that.”

“Why?” You leaned in slowly, testing the waters.

When he didn’t show any sign of resistance, you carefully closed the distance, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. Which Aaron didn’t respond at first…

Until he did.

It started slow, gentle, tasting Aaron’s hesitance from your insistence.

“I ca—” He broke the kiss, shaking his head. “I can’t do this. Not— no.”

You cupped his cheeks with both your hands. “I want this, Aaron.”

“Do you even know what you’re asking me to do?”

“Yes,” you cut him off by chasing his lips again, staring up at him. “Please, Aaron? I want you to fuck me.”

You stared back at him with the same intensity.

Aaron let out a deep sigh as he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His big hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer as he guided you to the bed.

Both of you broke apart for a moment, breathing heavily. And when he looked down at you, a mixture of adoration and concern flickered in his eyes.

“Are you sure about this, baby?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

You nodded quickly, your grip tightening on his arm. “I’ve never been more sure about anything, Aaron.”

Aaron’s lips trailed down your neck, inhaling your scent as he left a soft trail of light kisses. “You smell so good, angel. God, I don’t want to hurt you.”

He was murmuring against your skin. With his hot breath fanning on your neck, you felt like you were on fire. Every touch sent tingles through your already wet core. You tugged at his shirt, eager to feel the warmth of his skin against yours.

“Off, Aaron, please…” you pleaded softly.

And so he obliged, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it aside. You ran your hands over his chest, marveling at the hard planes of muscle beneath your fingertips. Your cunt clenched at the mere sight of dark hair trailing his stomach down to the fabric of his shorts.

“Tell me if you want to stop, alright?” He murmured breathlessly.

“I’m yours, Aaron. I don’t want to stop.”

“My sweet girl...” He sighed softly, placing a soft kiss on your collarbone. “Promise me.”

You buck your hips to get some friction on your neglected cunt.

“Alright, okay, I promise. Just please do something…”

Aaron’s hands expertly moved to the hem of your tank top, his eyes seeking permission. You nodded again, and he lifted it over your head, revealing your bare skin. His lips found yours in no time, hungrier and so much messier, as he explored your body.

His calloused and rough hands cupped your tits, rubbing your taut nipples with the pad of his palm.

“Aaron,” you whispered, your voice breathless. “I need you. Feel so hot.”

“I know, baby. But we need to slow down.”

He shed the rest of your clothes deftly. His touch was gentle yet insistent, his hands exploring the softness of your skin like a map. And you felt like drowning in him, his kisses, his touch, your desire to be taken.

Your breath hitched as you felt his hand traveling down your thighs.

“Do you touch yourself, angel?” He asked softly.

You let out a shaky breath, nodding. “Yes, yes. Just my fingers.”

“You do?” He seemed interested, perking his eyebrows teasingly. “And what do you think about while doing that?”

You arched your back as you sucked in a breath, feeling his finger rubbing the sensitive nub of your drenched pussy. Fuck, why is he teasing you?

“You, Aaron… wanted you…”

Your jaw almost dropped as Aaron entered two of his fingers in his mouth, wetting them profusely as his eyes lingered on yours. Right after, he settled himself in between your thighs, while you blushed hard and fought the urge to hide your wetness from his hungry eyes.

“It might hurt a little, sweetling,” He said quietly. “Be a good girl and relax for me, alright?”

You nodded quickly, your cunt clenching in anticipation. Just a few moment, you felt Aaron’s middle finger prodding your entrance, his eyes focused on you— searching for any sign of discomfort and that he needs to stop.

Instead, you gave him a nod.

He dipped his head in between your legs, his hot breath directed at your clenching pussy. He gave your cunt a few teasing licks, nibbling on your clit before running the pad of his tongue on your wet entrance. All the while, his finger found a rhythm that felt both new and familiar to you.

You bite down on your hand, muffling the moans threatening to escape your lips. And once you started getting accustomed to his finger and his tongue assaulting your cunt, he prodded the other finger, while his thumb rubbed gentle circles on your aching clit.

“Aaron… oh god…” You shut your eyes tightly, your legs trembling. “Feels so goo- oh! Oh my god!”

A smile appeared on his lips as he glanced up at you, his voice rough as his fingers continued abusing the spongy spot inside. “Right there, angel? That’s it?”

“Yes, yes, ye– oh my god, Aaron!”

“Shh…” He chuckled quietly, “You’ll wake your father, baby. You have to be quiet for me, alright?”

You nodded frantically even though you didn’t fully understand what he was saying. The lewd sound of your pussy squelching echoed in the silence of your room, accompanied by your quiet whimpers and Aaron’s heavy breathing.

“There you go. Good girl, angel. Good girl…” He whispered encouragingly, diving back again on your pussy. “Come for me, sweet girl. Be good for me.”

The world crumbled as your orgasm racked your body. Your legs trembled, your back arched, your lips hung open into a silent scream. But Aaron didn’t stop, his fingers pummeling in and out of your wet cunt until you whimpered and held his wrist, stopping him fully.

“Good?” He asked hoarsely, making you nod as you catch your breath. “Do you still want to do this?”

“I do, yes. Inside… I want you inside me, Aaron.”

He sighed softly before finally taking off his shorts. Your eyes followed the slow movements of his hands, alternating your gaze from the the plain of his veiny arms to his face.

Once off, he wrapped his big hand around his hard and leaking cock, pumping it slowly, then rubbing his thumb at the tip. You heard him hiss at the contact. He was big; both in girth and length. And for the first time that night, you felt unsure for a moment.

Aaron gave you a reassuring smile.

“Would it fit?”

“I’ll be gentle, sweet girl,” He chuckled hoarsely at your question, taking his place in between your legs again. “Spit on my hand, darling.”

“W-why?” You blushed, confused by the request.

“Alright, I’ll do it then.”

You bit your lip as you felt the tip of his cock on your entrance. Aaron knelt between your legs, and you watched how he spat on your desperate pussy. Just after that, he rubbed the tip up and down your cunt, spreading his saliva messily on your pulsing core.

“It will hurt, baby. I need you to relax.”

You nodded unsurely, your eyebrows tugging to a frown. “I’ll try, Aaron– oh, ouch!”

Aaron held you close, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your hips. Your room was filled with whispered words and soft moans.

“That’s it, angel… just relax for me… Good girl, look at that.”

“Ouch–” You whimpered quietly, gripping his arm for support. “It… it hurts. Aaron—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he whispered sympathetically, peppering your cheeks with soft kisses. “You’re doing great for me, angel.”

You hummed shakily as you let him bury himself deeper, feeling more of his pulsating cock deep down your cunt. Aaron propped himself above you, scanning your face with obvious worry. His hand was gentle as he caressed your cheek, brushing the strands of hair away from your sweaty face.

“You look so beautiful, baby…” He gave you a sweet smile before placing a featherlight kiss on your forehead, then the tip of your nose, down to your lips.

You keened at his softness. “You can move now, d-daddy. Please... I can take it…”

“Of course you can, sweetling. Daddy just wants to be careful.”

THE ENDING AAAAAAAAAA! This is originally a request but I accidentally deleted the first draft 😅 Hehehehe sorry, Anon! Hope you like this! 🫶🏼

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds smut #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #rolipops requests #dbf!aaron hotchner #dbf!hotch

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rafecameronssl4t · 3 months ago

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What is French for priceless? || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

GIF by @baocean

Summary: Canon fic based on s3 ep 1 :)

Warnings: swearing, rafe being a dick but what's new lol

Word count: 1,640

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

Watching from the balcony, you watch the sleek car come to a halt in the driveway, its polished exterior gleaming under the afternoon sun. Rafe had mentioned earlier in the week that he was expecting someone from overseas to look at the cross. "To make a deal," he had said, a glint of excitement in his eyes.

You turn on your heel, only to come face to face with Rafe. His tall, imposing figure blocks your path, his piercing blue eyes scanning your face. "You good?" he questions, his voice low and laced with concern. His eyes search yours as you stare at him with an expression he can't quite decipher. Your brows are furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Fine," you reply in a monotone voice, unable to mask the skepticism you feel. The tension between you is palpable. You are wary of Rafe's dealings, especially the idea of bringing someone he barely knows to the house to inspect the cross.

Rafe's eyes narrow slightly as he gauges your reaction. "It's going to be okay," he says, attempting to reassure you. "These people are professionals. They know what they're doing." But his words do little to quell your unease.

You remember the stories you've heard about deals gone wrong, about the dangers of dealing with high-value artifacts in the market. Rafe, with his charismatic but unpredictable nature, often walks a fine line between legitimate business and dangerous ventures.

As you stand there, the man and woman approach the front door, their footsteps echoing on the stone pathway. You glance back at them, then return your gaze to Rafe, who is now watching you intently, as if waiting for you to voice your concerns. "I just hope you know what you're doing," you say softly, your voice tinged with worry. "This seems too risky, Rafe."

He places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Trust me," he says, a confident smile playing on his lips. "I've got this." You nod reluctantly, but the nagging doubt remains. As the front door opens to admit the visitors, you can't shake the feeling that this deal, like so many others before it, could lead to trouble.

"Again, thank you both for coming. I know it was a long way to travel. But I think what we have is..." Rafe trails off beside you, his voice filled with an enthusiasm that you find hard to match. You watch his profile as he glances at you, seeking your approval or at least some acknowledgment. "Is pretty worthwhile." He smiles charmingly, but you respond with a quiet sigh, unable to shake your apprehension.

"Yes, well, Michel is the most prominent antiquities dealer in the West Indies," the woman begins, her voice smooth and practiced. She is dressed in a sharp business suit, her demeanor exuding professionalism. You cut her off abruptly, your skepticism boiling over.

"How come I've never heard of him then?" you interrupt, your tone sharp. Rafe whips his head toward you, his eyes narrowing into a hard gaze. The tension between you is palpable, but you ignore him, focusing on the woman.

The woman pauses, looking between the two of you with a slight frown before Rafe intervenes. "I'm so sorry, my girlfriend is a bit tired. Still jet-lagged from our travels," he says, chuckling awkwardly. He places his hand on top of yours, a gesture meant to soothe, but it only makes you roll your eyes. The woman nods with understanding before continuing. "Unfortunately, he only speaks French."

"No English," Michel chuckles, a warm, almost apologetic smile on his face. He is a middle-aged man with round glasses and an air of authority. You turn your attention outside, feeling bored and restless.

"Yeah," Rafe chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. "What is French for priceless?" His attempt at humor falls flat as you turn your head back at his words, your expression unamused. You observe the three in front of you, feeling like an outsider in this high-stakes game.

When the cross is unveiled, Michel's reaction is immediate and visceral. His eyes widen, and his breath catches as he stares at the artifact, almost awestruck. You watch closely as he steps closer to the gold cross, his fingers twitching with the desire to touch it. His translator, looks on in amazement.

Michel says something in French, his voice filled with reverence. The translator turns to Rafe. "May he touch it?" she asks. Rafe smiles, clearly pleased with the reaction. "Knock yourself out, Michel." As Michel feels the intricate design under his fingertips, Rafe looks to you for some sort of approval. You only glare at him, still skeptical and unimpressed.

"He wants to know where you found it," the translator says. Rafe shrugs, shaking his head dismissively. "Don't worry about it. We got it. That's all he needs to know. It's here. It's for sale. So, who can we get to buy it?"

Michel takes off his glasses, his face serious as he speaks. The translator translates his words with care. "For a piece of this value, there are very limited buyers. An institution, a museum." Rafe nods along, understanding the implications, but he looks deflated.

"But, he has a client in Barbados who will be interested," the translator continues. You tilt your head at her words, alarm bells ringing in your mind. "Rafe," you say firmly, trying to get his attention. "This is already risky enough."

He, of course, ignores your protests, his focus entirely on Michel. The anticipation in the room is thick, almost suffocating. "This client will have lots of questions. He'll want to meet with you in person," the translator says. At these words, you can no longer contain your frustration.

You stand up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Jesus fucking Christ," you mutter under your breath, casting one last look at Rafe before storming out of the room.

"Y/n, I don't have time for this, okay?" Rafe says in a dismissive tone, his impatience evident. "I gotta get to Bridgetown, I'm taking the boat." From the first floor, you watch as he places a black duffle bag on the ground with a sense of urgency.

"Come on, Rafe. You don't even know this guy," you reason with him, your voice edged with concern. Rafe removes his sunglasses, glancing at Michel's business card with a nonchalant air. "You can't just go out and try to make a deal, Rafe. That's so risky!" Your eyebrows furrow in disbelief as he leans against the railing, looking down at you with a smirk.

"I can't?" he retorts in a mocking tone, a sarcastic smile playing on his lips. "I know you think you know what you're doing," you call out as he walks back into your shared room, his presence filling the space with tension. "But there are people out there that know your dad is alive—no! Not just people, Pogues." You correct yourself, taking a sip of your drink, the frustration evident in your voice.

"Pogues, Pogues," Rafe mumbles dismissively as he packs a suitcase with determined efficiency. "Listen, they can't prove it, alright? They don't know where we are," he shrugs, walking back into the room again as you rub your forehead, already feeling a headache coming on.

"Your sister does!" you yell, the desperation in your voice growing. Rafe emerges from the room, his expression hardening. "Oh, Sarah does!" he calls out, a hint of mockery in his tone. "Listen, Sarah's not going to do anything, baby. She's too afraid, and if the Pogues show up, I'm just gonna handle it," he says in a calm tone, but his words do little to reassure you. You narrow your eyes at him, the anger bubbling up inside you.

"Oh, you'll handle it?" you retort, crossing your arms defiantly. "When have you ever handled anything for us, for your family? Huh?" Your voice grows louder with frustration. "Rafe, everything you touch turns to—"

Your words are cut off by the sudden sound of Rafe's hand slapping the wooden railing. "Hey! Hey!" he shouts, his eyes flashing with anger. You stare at him, shock evident on your face, as he takes a moment to calm himself down.

"Listen," he says, his voice now calmer but still laced with intensity, "I'm gonna sell the cross that I found, okay? That I saved, and when Dad wakes up—" You roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief as you take another sip of your drink. "-okay," you mutter quietly, barely listening.

"—he's gonna see that I took care of it. Not my fucking girlfriend," he says in a belittling tone, his words cutting deep. You scoff, maintaining a calm composure despite the sting of his words. "Sure, Rafe. Sure."

"So, why don't you go have yourself another Tom Collins?" he shrugs, pushing himself off the railing with an air of finality. "While I go make us all a shit ton of money, okay?" He speaks slowly, his words dripping with condescension.

Your grip tightens on your glass, the frustration boiling over. Without thinking, you hurl the glass toward him, but it hits just below where he was standing, shattering on the wall. Rafe looks down at the broken glass, a smug smile on his face. "You missed."

Your breath quickens, each exhale laden with a mix of anger and hurt. “Get. Fucked. Rafe,” you seethe through gritted teeth, your voice a dangerous whisper. Without waiting for a response, you turn on your heel and stride away, leaving him standing there with that infuriatingly smug expression. “Love you too, babe!” he calls out sarcastically, his voice dripping with mockery.

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nanaslutt · 1 year ago

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ok but i cant get riding nanamis thigh as he whispers degradations masked as praise to you out of my head 😩🙏

its currently 4am and i just wrote 2k words of nanami smut..

i hope you enjoy ml<3

contains: fem reader, thigh riding (clothed), choking, slight manhandling, ear licking, teasing!reader, brat tamer!nanami, degradation ('slut' and 'whore'), praise, dom/sub dynamics, size kink if you squint, nanami is a sweetheart at times~

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

you're sitting on nanami lap, legs straddling his massive thighs, facing his bulging chest as you lean your head into the older man's neck, inhaling his comforting smell, basking in the heat radiating off his body

one of his large hands resting on the small of your back, hand slipped just under the hem of the top you were adorning, as he rubs soothing patterns with his strong fingers into the sensitive skin there

his other broad hand using two thick fingers to scroll on his laptop, reading through some important document ijichi had sent him earlier in the day

you have been against him for what feels like hours now, the spot his large palm has been caressing almost growing sore from how long he has been petting you

him having made home on his office chair for an annoying amount of time even before you came to join him as well, you huff into his neck, staring at the prominent vein running underneath his skin,

hands previously wrapped around his broad back slipping up and around his chest to sling over his strong arms, hand on the side of him furthest from you coming up to place your thumbs around the side of his thick neck, sliding your lithe fingers behind his head, messing with the shorter hairs on the nape of his neck

you lean in, using the leverage you have on his neck to manipulate him against you slightly, soft lips making contact with his burning skin, you pepper kisses up the vein decorating underneath the skin there that you got a glimpse of a second ago,

his breathing remains even, the only change in his demeanor being the way he applied slightly more pressure against your lower back for an amount of time that if your skin wasn't buzzing with hyperawareness you would've missed it

feeling your neediness growing rapidly; he felt it too; at his lack of reaction, your hooded eyes set your sights on his ear, kissing around where the appendage meets his head, before leaning down to tug at his lobe between your teeth,

getting a sharp inhale between his teeth at this, filling your chest with a sense of accomplishment, soothing the bite by sucking his lobe into your mouth, rolling your tongue around it

deep voice finally speaking, and its a warning, "careful," large hand shifting to grip the side of your hip to emphasize his words

"dunno what ur talking about, jus sittin' here," you whisper, releasing his earlobe from between your lips, mischievous hands joining your assault as they smooth over his rippling chest, making sure to feel each and every indent of his muscles as you slide down his form, cunt throbbing ar the feeling, reaching his belt before sliding back up his teasingly,

kissing around the shell of his ear, letting out teasing breaths against him, "nanami," you whimper out his name, right into his ear, fingers having made their way back into his soft hair, softly scratching your nails into his scalp,

"thought you were just sitting here huh?" he grabs the back of your neck, pulling you away from his ear, bringing you in front of his handsome face whilst narrowing his sharp eyes at you

"I was," you mumble in faux unawareness, pouting your lip out, struggling to suppress a smirk,

"If you were, i wouldn't be feeling your needy cunt throbbing against me right now," he deadpans, squeezing his fingers around the back of your neck for a fleeting second before he's pushing your back against his chest once more

"be a good girl for me, almost done here then I'll help with your little problem," he proposes,

you do not like the sound of that one bit, your "little" problem had grown ten times its size in intensity from him pointing out your arousal, you thought he was going to be nice and help you out now, that's why he was stating it,

you could not have been more wrong, him proceeding to continue with his work as quickly as he had stopped to correct your behavior,

you would've thought he was completely unaffected if his big fucking boner wasn't currently pressing up against your clothed cunt, squeezing around nothing at the revelation,

"but kento, you're so hard right now." you pouted leaning back to tilt your head at him, your figure in front of him obstructing the view of his work, "it can wait," the corner of his nose twitching up, suppressing a scowl as a vein almost popped up under the skin of his forehead, "now I said to be good," pushing you down harsher this time, returning to his work once more

little did he know (he knew) that you got off on his rough treatment, smiling to yourself as you were successfully pushing his buttons, heading in just the right direction you craved,

mentally preparing yourself to get thrown over his knee later as he usually did when you acted up, you rolled your mound down onto his tented pants, giggling, "wanna feel you inside me nowww" you draw out,

that was the last straw for him, he gave you two warnings, two, and you still were acting like a spoiled brat who doesn't think about anyone but herself, dont you know how important reviewing this document was?

"fucking tired of you acting like a needy brat when I'm trying to work," his deep voice vibrated through your body, shutting his laptop harshly, swiftly picking you up in his arms, hands steading on the underside of your thighs, right under your ass, and walking to where you could only guess would be your shared bedroom

satisfaction filling your body feeling his hard cock underneath your ass press into you as he walked, giggling into the air thinking about the impending punishment you were about to receive when he suddenly stops short of your assumed destination to instead sit you both down on the couch,

he easily maneuvers your body so his massive thigh is settled in between your legs, spreading his legs a bit to make room for you as he relaxes strong arms on the armrest and back of the couch, looking at you from under his eyelids expectantly, "go ahead, get yourself off on my thigh." the words leave his mouth like its something he said a hundred times

only you've never done this before, was he seriously expecting you to dry hump his thigh? and he wasn't even going to help? your jaw drops slightly, no words reaching your tongue,

"since you're acting like a pretty bitch in heat, you're going to get off like one," heavy hand coming down to leave an unexpected spank on your backside, "only good girls deserve cock inside them," he finishes, hand returning to its place on the loveseat,

gears finally turning in your head, feeling the need to impress him and show him that his stupid punishment isn't as daunting as he thought you would find it,

placing your hands on his lower abs for stability and pushing his torso into the back of the couch further, you started moving

the feeling of your damp panties rubbing against your clit combined with the solid feel of his toned thigh pressing on your just right giving you more pleasure than you anticipated

"a-ah" you gasped, tipping your head back and pulling your lip between your teeth whilst he flexed his thigh underneath you, eyebrows raising at how quickly you adjusted to the current situation,

he leaned forward, settling his massive palms on your hips as he tips his head into your ear, positions almost flipped from the way you were teasing him earlier,

"that feel good? you like rubbing that needy little cunt on my leg?" his deep voice whispers directly in your ear, tongue poking out to lick and suck there, "bet she's so fucking wet right now huh? speaking about your cunt like it's not connected to you,

the new stimulation mixing with his orgasmic voice making your moans increase in volume, feeling yourself pulse and twitch when you rock your hips faster, a familiar head finding its way blooming inside your tummy,

"love it kento, feels 's good" moaning pathetically, all embarrassment and unsureness that might've been there before completely dissipating as he hums in approval,

"being such an obedient little slut right now," he continues, flicking his tongue around your ear between sentences,

"only for you kento," a new sensation, a stronger one washing over you as you start to gyrate your hips in circles on his strong thigh, clit bumping over a divet in his leg each time you do so, making you jerk and stutter out broken moans,

looking down to see his slacks turned a darker shade of tan from your arousal seeping through your pants, his cock twitching in his pants at the sight, he was right, you were fucking soaking,

at good as this felt, you were undeniably aware of the need you felt to have his cock filling you so fucking deep, thrusting in and out, giving you the meanest backshots while he gripped your hair and pulled you back on him like his life depended on it,

"kento, wan' you inside me," you voiced out your thoughts, warmth spreading and coiling deeper in your tummy as you squeezed your eyes shut, scenario playing out in your head, continuing to hump your clit drunkenly on his thigh,

"I know you do," he acknowledges, voice laced with pitty, "but you gotta earn it now for bein a dumb needy baby," his hand coming up to caress your cheek in faux sympathy,

"I would've been more than happy to give you my dick if you were just patient, know that right baby?" he asks, eyebrows raised, a frown forming on your face as you nod, "m sorry kento," you're cut off with an abrupt moan when he starts bouncing his thigh into you, "won't do it again, j-just wanted y-our attention." you managed to whine out, words are broken up with pretty moans

"I forgive you, sweetheart," he smiles fondly at you, one hand still on the side of the couch while the one caressing your face falls to your hip and aids you in getting off, "you close?" he questions, noticing the telling signs of your impending orgasm,

jaw dropped, breaths raising in pitch, gyrating hips losing their rhythm, feeling the coil about to snap, "wanna cum on your dick kento," you force out, "p-please don't wanna cum like this," you cry, knowing that if he forces you to continue, you really will finish,

"poor baby," he bites his lip, unable to resist anymore as his other hand comes down to palm himself through his slacks watching you start to unravel, "I'll make you cum all over my dick as soon as you finish, okay?" he compromises, all anger that was once in his body long gone as he watches you take what you give him, listening to him so well as you fuck his leg with reckless abandon,

"o-okay okay okay, f-fuck, kento fuck im-" you babble, the continuous bouncing of his leg feeling incredible as it becomes harder and harder to move on your own

looking down at him and watching his veiny fingers massage the bulge in his pants has you dizzy, mouth watering at the prospect of getting to fuck him after this

you whimper out that you're cumming, his jaw mirrors yours and drops with you, "yesyesyes good fucking slut yesss" squeezing his cock harshly the need to be buried inside you increases tenfold as he watches your orgasm wrack through your body

your thighs clenching around his bigger one, cunt gushing out more wetness, moaning out curses and whimpers of his name as he praises you through it,

slowing your hips as the rough friction of your panties against your sensitive clit becomes too much, struggling to catch your breath, not even given a spare second to recover before he's manhandling your back to press against the couch, fitting between your legs as he reaches for his belt, hastily undoing it, "take them off, now" he growls referring to your pants that are currently obstructing his favorite sight in the world, face flushed as he pulls out his dripping cock and strokes the pre down his length, he was incredibly worked up,

eyes falling to how angry his red tip looked, gaze falling back on his strained-looking features before you slipped your fingers under your waistband to slide them off, you were in for a long night.

#nanami let me have ur babies pls #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanamin #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #jjk kento #kento smut #kento x reader

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