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dksfml · 2 months ago

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what would you do if I went to touch you now? - riki

pairing: younger!nishimura riki x older!reader genre: office romance, flirty niki, workplace tension, niki teaches you japanese. summary: despite your best efforts to maintain professionalism, the undeniable tension between you and riki makes it impossible to resist the connection growing between you. it doesn't help that he calls you "noona" at work. warnings: suggestive, kissing, implied smut word count: 2.7k

your professional relationship with riki had been straightforward when he first started. quiet and shy, he took careful notes during meetings, absorbing the work culture like a sponge. as his mentor, you were tasked with guiding him through the ropes, ensuring he understood the nuances of the company.

“make sure he knows what he’s doing,” your boss had instructed, handing you the responsibility like a personal mission. and you took it seriously. riki was younger by a few years, in need of your guidance. at first, he seemed timid, his questions asked in soft tones, his posture always slightly defensive, as if afraid of stepping out of line. you naturally fell into a nurturing role, steering him whenever he seemed unsure, offering advice when necessary. but as time passed, riki's confidence grew, along with a noticeable shift in your dynamic.

it started subtly—small changes in his attitude. his work improved dramatically, and soon he was strutting around with a smirk, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place. his newfound cockiness was relentless, even though you reminded him to stay focused.

“riki,” you sighed, standing by his desk, flipping through his presentation slides. “i told you to cross-reference these with last quarter’s data. this is incomplete.”

he leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin. “i was going to fix it, but i thought i’d leave some for you to correct, noona. keeps me humble.”

you narrowed your eyes, unamused. “this isn’t a game. you can’t slack off just because you’re comfortable. these clients are important, and if we don’t get this right, it’s on both of us.”

his grin faltered, but just as quickly, he masked it with a wink. “got it. i’ll fix it. but only if you promise to let me take you out for dinner when we nail this project.”

you shook your head, suppressing a smile. “this is serious. you missed an email i asked you to forward last week. and calling me ‘noona’ here at work? we need to keep this professional.”

riki straightened, the playful glint in his eyes dimming. “right,” he said, his voice softer. “i’ll keep it professional. but you can’t blame me for trying.”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but deep down, you felt a rush of excitement at his boldness. “i want those revisions by the end of the day, riki. and no more flirting until this is done.”

“yes, ma’am,” he replied, a mock salute on his part, and for the first time in weeks, there was no teasing in his tone.

now, the two of you were working on a critical project, preparing a proposal for a japanese client your company was eager to sign. it wasn’t just a regular pitch; this deal was huge—a make-or-break moment that could lead to long-term collaboration. you had thrown yourself into the task, familiarizing yourself with every detail of the project. but there was one problem: the language barrier. the client preferred to communicate in japanese, and while you had learned some phrases, you were nowhere near fluent.

that’s when it struck you—riki was fluent in japanese. you recalled him casually mentioning it one afternoon, and now that you needed the skill, you struck a deal with him: he’d tutor you in japanese after work, and in return, you’d ensure his involvement in the project didn’t go unnoticed by the higher-ups. a fair exchange, strictly professional, you told yourself.

later that night, during one of your lessons, the atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension. riki sat across from you, leaning forward as you practiced reading a passage. you stumbled over a phrase, and his sharp gaze caught your mistake.

“no,” he corrected, his voice low and firm, sending shivers down your spine. “it’s nihon, not nee-hon. you’re stressing the first syllable too much.”

his tone was both authoritative and teasing, igniting a spark of mischief that made your heart race. “let’s go over that phrase again,” he said, his voice soft yet commanding. you nodded, struggling to focus, but the heat radiating from his body made it impossible to think clearly.

“try it one more time, noona,” he urged, leaning in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. the closeness sent a jolt of electricity coursing through you, and you instinctively shifted, seeking a little more space.

“um, okay,” you stammered, trying to keep your composure, but the way he looked at you—a mix of amusement and something deeper—made your cheeks flush. “i’m trying.”

riki leaned in even closer, his shoulder pressing against yours. “you’re not trying hard enough,” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips. “what’s the matter? feeling a little shy?”

“shy? no,” you protested, your voice barely above a whisper. “i just—”

“just what?” he interrupted, his gaze piercing into yours, his confidence unwavering. “can’t handle a little pressure?”

your heart raced at the challenge in his voice. “at work, i’m your superior, riki. you need to respect that.”

“respect?” he echoed, leaning back just enough to gauge your reaction. “or maybe you need to realize that i’m not the junior anymore. you’re the one who seems to struggle with that.” his eyes danced with mischief, and you felt a thrill race through you.

“riki,” you warned, but your voice faltered, unable to hide the quiver of excitement that danced beneath your words.

“tell me you’re not interested,” he challenged, leaning closer, their faces mere inches apart. the air thickened with tension, and you could feel his warmth enveloping you. “because i know you feel it too.”

before you could respond, the sudden power cut plunged the office into darkness, leaving only the dim emergency lights flickering above. your heart pounded, and the adrenaline heightened every sensation.

“well, i guess that’s the end of tonight’s lesson,” you attempted to joke, but your voice trembled, revealing your unease.

riki’s eyes glinted in the low light, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “no, we’re not done.” he leaned closer again, his hand brushing against yours, sending a wave of heat up your arm.

you pulled back slightly, heart racing. “riki, this isn’t—”

“isn’t what?” he whispered, his voice a low murmur that sent a thrill down your spine. “we both know there’s something between us.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but the urgency in his gaze silenced you. your breath hitched at the finality in his tone. the professional barrier you had carefully constructed was crumbling.

“we should go,” you muttered, fumbling to gather your things. but riki reached out, his hand brushing against yours, halting your movements.

“we could go to your place,” he suggested, his voice dangerously low. “finish the lesson there.”

the implications hung heavily between you. you met his gaze, searching for any trace of the playful riki you’d trained, the one who’d always danced around the line but never crossed it. but there was nothing playful in his expression now—only a raw intensity that made your skin prickle.

you nodded, unable to trust your voice, and within moments, you were heading out of the office together. the ride to your apartment was silent, the weight of what was about to happen sitting thick between you.

the door to your apartment clicked shut behind you, and the familiar surroundings only heightened the surreal nature of what was happening. you barely had time to turn on a light before riki was in front of you, his presence magnetic. the silence between you was thick with everything left unsaid, but his gaze—intense, burning—spoke volumes.

for a moment, neither of you moved, both caught in the tension that had been building for weeks. his eyes swept over your face, lingering on your lips as if contemplating his next move. you stood your ground, refusing to back away even as your pulse raced in anticipation.

“you’re still thinking about work, aren’t you?” his voice was low, teasing. he stepped closer, just close enough that the warmth of his body radiated through the space between you. “always so professional, noona.”

you swallowed, feeling the flutter of nerves in your stomach. “someone has to keep things in check,” you replied, though your voice faltered just slightly, betraying the tug of desire that made your skin prickle with anticipation.

he chuckled, soft and deep. “maybe it’s time you stopped thinking for once.”

before you could react, his hand slid up your arm, fingers curling gently around the nape of your neck as he pulled you toward him. his lips met yours in a kiss that was far from the playful teasing you were used to. it was hungry, intense, like he had been waiting for this moment as long as you had. the taste of him was intoxicating, and before you realized it, you were kissing him back with just as much need.

your back hit the wall softly as his body pressed into yours, every inch of him enveloping you, filling the space around you. his hands trailed down your sides, fingers ghosting over the fabric of your blouse before dipping under the hem, finding bare skin.

“riki,” you whispered, breaking the kiss for a breath, but your voice was breathless, needy. his name left your lips like a confession.

his lips barely left yours as he responded, his voice a raspy whisper. “you keep acting like you’re in control, noona,” he murmured against your skin, his hands now slipping around your waist, pulling you even closer. “but i don’t think you are anymore.”

the challenge in his voice made something inside you snap. you wanted to respond, to assert yourself as you always had, but the heat between you was overwhelming, and before you could muster a reply, his lips were on your neck, pressing soft, hot kisses along your skin that left you trembling.

“i’m not the kid you used to boss around,” he murmured between kisses, his breath warm against your ear. “you can’t keep treating me like i don’t know what i’m doing.”

his hands slid lower, and you gasped as his touch became more insistent, his fingers deftly working to unbutton your blouse. his lips returned to yours, and this time, the kiss was slower, deeper, as if he wanted to savor every second. there was nothing hurried about the way his hands roamed your body, exploring with a confidence that made your head spin.

you tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, your fingertips brushing over the smooth lines of his chest. he was handsome, undeniably so, but up close like this—underneath the layers of work clothes and the carefully constructed professionalism—he was breathtaking. your hands trailed over his skin, feeling the tautness of his muscles, the way his breath hitched slightly as you touched him.

he grinned against your lips as you pressed your body into his, feeling the hardness of his form against you. “see?” he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “you can’t even resist me now, noona.”

you wanted to argue, to assert your authority as you always had, but the way he looked at you—like he knew exactly how to unravel you—left you powerless.

his hands made quick work of the rest of your clothes, every movement deliberate, controlled. he was no longer the shy, uncertain junior you had once guided. here, in the dim light of your apartment, riki was commanding, confident, and he knew exactly what he was doing.

he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom, laying you down with a gentleness that contrasted with the heat of the moment. and then he was over you, his hands exploring, his lips trailing over your skin in ways that made your breath hitch. you responded in kind, your fingers digging into his back, pulling him closer, needing him closer.

when his mouth found yours again, it was softer this time, but no less intense. his touch was slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of your body, every gasp and shiver he elicited. you couldn’t help the sounds that escaped you, soft whimpers that only seemed to spur him on.

“don’t think just because i’m calling you ‘noona’ that i’ll let you keep this up,” he teased, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “you’re not the only one who can take charge.”

the air between you was charged with desire, thick with the tension that had been simmering for so long. every touch, every breath shared between you was electric, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. you had never imagined this—being here, with him, in this way—but now that you were, there was no going back.

and when he finally claimed you, when the last barriers between you fell away, it was like everything else disappeared. there was no work, no professionalism, no rules—just you and him, bodies moving together in perfect sync, lost in the heat of the moment.

the world outside faded into oblivion, and all that remained was the sound of your mingled breaths, the feeling of his skin against yours, the way he made you feel as though you were the only two people who mattered.

and in that moment, nothing else did.

“i still do want to take you on a dinner date though," riki said, breaking the silence with a light-hearted lilt that hung in the air like a sweet melody.

you pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his, as if seeking confirmation that this wasn’t just a fleeting fantasy. “really?” the question slipped out before you could hold it back, a mix of surprise and delight dancing in your voice.

“yeah, really,” he replied, his smile growing wider. “just you and me. somewhere nice. maybe italian? i hear they have the best pasta in town.”

his words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, grounding you in the moment. you could feel your heart quicken, the anticipation stirring something deep within you. “that sounds perfect. when do you want to go?”

“how about friday?” he suggested, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’ll even let you choose the place.”

a laugh escaped your lips, the sound light and airy. “i hope you’re ready for my pick then. i might take you to the best italian place in town, and you’ll be regretting it the next day.”

riki chuckled, the warmth of his laughter making your heart flutter. “i’ll take that risk. besides, i have a feeling it’ll be worth it.”

in that moment, as the soft glow of the streetlights seeped through the window, you felt the weight of the week lift, replaced by the promise of something beautiful on the horizon. but just as the excitement began to settle in, you were pulled back to reality by the sound of your phone vibrating against the table, a harsh reminder of the world outside this blissful bubble.

you glanced at the screen, and the moment slipped slightly, the glow of notifications flickering like an unwelcome reminder. it was a message from a friend, checking in about the weekend plans.

“sorry, i should probably—” you started, but riki gently took your hand, grounding you again.

“hey,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “you can always reply later. right now, let’s focus on us.”

you looked back at him, the connection reigniting. the moment stretched out like an unbroken thread between you, the world beyond the walls of this room fading once more into insignificance. you nodded, your heart soaring as you settled back into the warmth of his gaze, the future bright and inviting.

“so, friday it is?” you confirmed, your voice steady and full of excitement.

“definitely,” riki replied, a grin breaking across his face, as if he had just won a victory.

and just like that, the evening unfolded around you, a delicate balance of playful teasing and soft confessions, a new chapter beginning to write itself in the quiet spaces between your laughter.

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ramonathinks · 3 months ago

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RAISE THE STAKES.

being a therapist was hard enough without the leader of an infamous group becoming your patient or to answer your questions, sylus has a few requests.

(18+, no minors! no blank accounts!) inappropriate relationships, patient!slyus, therapist!reader, munch slyus, oral and female masturbation, slight pussy inspection, dirty talk. exhibitionism, dry humping, word count: 3k... short and sweet

tagging: @xmiisuki @sunasbon @sugugasm <3

There was something clinical and plain about your office — though technically you were a type of doctor — the decor screamed hospital more than a comfortable place to tell your deepest darkest secrets. Faint pale blue walls with littered old stickers from the previous child therapist and even the stench of crayons … not to mention the floor tiles, squared with an iced blue paint that made the room both childish and clinical. Something fitting for a child hospital or even a former child psych ward.

That was the reason you decided for this particular appointment you’d switch rooms to somewhere more adult and that hopefully your boss would let you stay there. The pristine polished marble floors and white walls, two empty lush chairs and a small brown wooden table with magazines with two waters sitting on top. This was your dream room and one you felt you deserved. You were the most decorated person on your floor — top of your class in your undergrad and graduate class, internships at major places, yet you settled for here. Settled. It was smack dabbed in the middle of a city that needed you most. A dangerous city… but somewhere you felt like you could actually make a difference.

Sitting in the chair towards the window you awaited for Sylus Qin – a name that sent more than enough shivers up your spine but who’s name spiked your curiosity, especially seeing it written for a first appointment directly with you.

He walked in, his presence loud and alarming from the moment he stepped into the door, looking at you before he sat down in the seat closest to the door. You inhaled, the deep smell of metallic and what you must’ve guessed was gunpowder filled your nostrils. “You’re late,” You told him with a small smile. “And for your first appointment nevertheless.” Your tone is light and playful, you only hoped that he understood that.

He arches a white brow and slouches back on the couch, it was obviously too small for his broad body and long legs but he still stretched them so they were nearing yours. “A meeting held me up.” He waited for some form of reaction before he looked away from you, probably now disappointed when your face remained blank.

You cleared your throat, “I’m quite sure that you didn’t come here on your own volition, so why are you here? I know that you of all people couldn’t have been forced.” You crossed your legs, watching his eyes glance at them.

“Two nuisances…” He grumbles, his face scrunched into a deadly scowl but his crimson eyes remain gentle as he looks at you. “It seems that I’ve been even more aggressive as of late.” He shrugs his shoulders as if he disagrees with the diagnosis.

“Well… what made them come to that conclusion?” You watched him open his mouth to answer before he paused, thinking something. It takes a while before he speaks again and when he does he shocks you.

“What do I get if I answer any of your silly little questions…?” There’s a huskiness to his voice, a rough edge as he speaks. His eyes are trained on you, following you as your body sways a bit.

You quirk a brow, “You want a reward for being…compliant?” You straighten your posture, looking at him with slightly wide eyes, it was the first time someone asked for something so ridiculous. “You tell me what you want—” You start before he interrupts you.

“Your panties.” Curt. Simple. Straightforward. You blinked, staring at this man and questioning how you managed to get yourself in this position.

Was the money worth it? That was the question roaming around your head as you just stared at him. How could he ask you such a thing with a serious face expression. “My panties? That would tempt you to answer the questions truthfully?” The skirt you were wearing felt a thousand times shorter and the room felt too warm for you to ignore the wetness you felt between your —

Your eyes twitched. A conversation alone, brief… and your panties were drenched, sticky to your folds. It would do wonders for your career to have gotten the man himself… the big leader of a malicious group to be less violence. So you sigh, “You want them now—”

“As an act of good faith,” He says smoothly. “Let’s put all our cards out on the table…How about you at least take them off so I know you’re being truthful to me.”

You sucked your teeth, debating with yourself on if you really should do this or not. Your career is on the line regardless of each decision. You could just deny him, tell him off and force him out of your office. But your body seemed to be screaming at you to just do it. You hadn’t had sex nor a true orgasm in more than a year… possibly two and yet with him sitting in front of you, you felt as if you were close.

Your mouth no longer produces saliva and your throat dry as you slide them down your legs; you held them and watched a smirk take over his face. You couldn’t believe yourself honestly, this wasn’t something you’d ever expect yourself to do. While you weren’t exactly a good girl, you had standards… you couldn’t believe you were being so trashy. Yet the excitement in your body spilled out of your center and with his eyes glued there while you removed your underwear, your body shook.

“Already the air smells so better in here.” He chuckles and you feel embarrassment cloud your mind. “To answer your question from before… Apparently they believe I’m in a foul mood since I’ve been less tolerant on certain things that in the past, I was more passive on. They’ve expressed to me that with the rough ways I’ve been handling business has grown rather…impulsive.”

“Do you agree with that?” You recross your legs. “I’ve always heard that you were impulsive and honestly, I never heard anyone say you were passive… Do you think you’ve ever been passive? Do you think you can paint me a picture of yourself?”

He reaches out his hand and for a moment you’re confused before you realize he’s asking for his reward. Handing him the panties, you see him sniff them and it makes your insides quiver. This man… he was too much for you.

“I see myself as…” He thinks, his eyebrows furrowed, he taps his foot on the ground. “I often find myself bored and find myself indulging in self destructive behavior... taking on more than I can and getting myself injured.” He scoffs. “I guess this particular time they're talking about is when I knew I was being set up but still decided to go alone without informing them - Luke and Kieran, I mean.”

“So they care about you?” You ask, mentally taking notes of every word and ever ounce of movement and even taking account of his voice and tone.

“Sure.” His voice has a slight tremble to it. “We’ve been together for longer than I can remember being without them…” Then he’s closed off again, acting as if he revealed too much to you. His crimson eyes trace up your legs again, he bites his lips.

You recrossed your legs. “Anyway…” You cough. “Is there a thrill in putting yourself in these situations? Or is there a need to demonstrate that your reputation is correct… to stop or limit people from defying you?” You are met with silence and a sinister glint in Sylus’ eyes. “Sylus? Do you need me to repeat the question?”

“I answered some for your panties. For this next question, you’ll have to do something else for me to answer it… unless you want a lie…or more silence.” His roaming eyes told you all that you needed to know, this request would be more.

A scowl on your face, “My panties weren’t enough?” You’re close to rolling your eyes at him, you want to hate him but it’s something in those eyes that keeps you from it. After this you knew that you’d decline any other visits from him, you might as well entertain him— no, you want to slap yourself for even thinking that thought.

“I wanna see you cum, pet that pretty pussy and put a show on for me.” He says and you gasp, full blown as you stare at him. “C’mon kitten, don’t be so coy.” His eyes darkened but still his tone remained playful; slick gathered at your thighs and it’s almost as if he scented it with how quick his eyes snapped to your skirt.

“Sylus, the panties were already inappropriate enough. I can lose my license—” You stammer, your voice small and timid as you speak. This man… would be the death of you.

“I won’t let that happen.”

You swallow, staring hard in his eyes. Looking in his eyes made you want to bend to his every whim and to continue. Your thighs spread a bit because honestly, you wanted this. “Fine.” You relinquished every ounce of self respect you had for yourself and spread your legs completely apart. A slap of cool air brushes against your bare skin, your shutter but spread your folds. You rub at your clit, staring in those addicting eyes.

He drinks in the sight of you — dripping and oozing out spilling to the chair, he straightens himself, his eyes now locked between your thighs. Your clit is hard and throbbing knowing that his eyes are on your most delicate parts. You circle your entrance, collecting the slick that sits there before you dip it inside – teasing both you and him. You feel the warmth of yourself as you stroke your finger in and out of your walls, sloppy noises echoing around the room. Your thighs tremble and breathing heavy, he briefly glances at your face and back to the dripping sight below. Your face scrunched up in a sense of pure ecstasy, you pop your finger out of your cunt and you put a finger in your mouth before rubbing your clit again, your thighs bucking and your hips humping upwards.

His feet tap against the floor watching another finger join the one already knuckle deep inside of you, his fingers twitch looking at how wet and creamy your fingers are pumping in and out. “There’s a thrill… and excitement that comes with doing dangerous things…” His voice trails off, your mouth agape spilling little moans. “It feels good… it’s never a sense of pride, it’s more of a –” Using your other hand, you rub fast at your clit at the same time your fingers thrust inside deeper, hitting another spot that makes a bit of cream drip under you. “It’s more of a simple pleasure, just something to take the edge off of life. It’s a high… c’mon kitten, you’re killing me there. Need to see your face when you cum.”

Your stomach sucks in at the words and you whine, leaking with a deep orgasm and deep breathing. “Ohhhhh!” Cream continues to spill out, you milk yourself more – curling your fingers before you pull them out with a drawn out moan. “Oh, mmm…” You feel so tired, your eyes dropping and a fuzzy brain when you turn your attention back on him.

“What’s your next request for answering this last question?” You huff, your face flushed and your body trembling. You still tried to cover yourself but he just laughed, full and heartily.

“I want you to sit on my face.” He’s hard, tapping his foot against the floor again still looking at your creamy pussy. “That’s all.”

“What?” But it shouldn’t surprise you anymore, no matter how much you fought on his demands… you knew you’d give in and you knew how badly you wanted him.

“I want you to sit on my face.” He said again, nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders.

“But… why? Are you trying to make me lose my job? Or are you just insane and don’t care about my livelihood or my dignity?” But really, it didn’t matter, with all you did now… your license was already revoked.

“Would you rather be a good girl and sit on my lap? Grind yourself on my cock?” It was an enticing offer and you had to mentally stop yourself from taking it up. “Just keep being an obedient little girl like you have been and come sit on my face.” He’s pulling himself from the chair to lie on the floor with a bright smile on his lips. He waited, both of you already knew that you were going to come.

“First... put your fingers in my mouth.” It makes you jump when he says that but you swallow your nerves and pride, reaching over and letting his tongue work its way through your fingers, his tongue slimy wet and sticky all at once. He groans out at the taste. “Sit.” He says simply. You’d never did this before, your legs trembled just standing above his head and even more when you bent down.

You hovered over him, a string of your slick dripping over his face before he moved his head to capture it between his tongue with a groan; swirling his tongue in a circular motion as he took in the taste. “So wet…tastes so good.” His voice deep and inviting; sticking his tongue inside then flicks his tongue against your clit and wraps his mouth around it — sucking it before he releases it with a plop sound. “Sit.” He told you, rubbing his hands across your ass, spreading it so that your pussy would wink at him with a small gushy sound. He firmly sits completely on his face so that his face is covered with you.

His tongue feels like a thousand tongues when you drip over his face, grinding your hips and circling them. Your knees digging into the floor when you slide forward and back against him.“Sy–lus!” The pad of his tongue licks up your slit, moving to your folds and up to suckle on your throbbing clit. You tug his hair and he buries his face impossibly more into your pussy. Grinding and shaking his face into you before gripping your hips to make you really grind against his mouth.

You squeal with every moment as he uses his tongue to curl deep inside of you – your legs shaking and he slurps. Your toes curl inside of your stuffy shoes and though you can’t see his face because of the skirt you wear, you can feel the devilish smirk against your flesh.

He pulls you up, holds you. A string of his salvia and your slick and cream mixed together on his lips. “Never did ask that question, sweetie.”

“Oh, fuck you Sylus.” He’s sitting you back down, your thighs squeezing his head. His mouth latched to your clit and doing deep sucks with his fingers pressed deep in your thighs. Opening his mouth wider to truly capture all of what he can of your cunt — there’s a deep hunger in every lick he gives, his tongue dragging down from your clit to your slit and back up again. He laps at your folds with nothing else but groans and soft moans that leave both of your mouths.

His tongue swirls on your clit before small soft kisses that make you flinch. Cream and slick trickling down your thighs, your hips continue to hump him — it was as if his face belonged there, his tongue glued to your core and eating up everything you had to offer. Lifting you again, he says, “Want to feel that pretty pussy soaking me… you’d like that won’t you?” He grins, showing all his teeth. You’re quick to nod your head, tears in your eyes… this man was turning you into his plaything and you could care less… there was a thrill to this.

He doesn’t take off his pants much to your disappointment but he helps you to sit on his lap, his lust filled scarlet eyes filled with nothing but desire as he rolls his hips against yours. A small gasp leaves your mouth, your bare cunt soaking his pants and his cock deliciously digging into your core. You wrap your arms around his neck and squeeze your eyes shut, letting him thrust up against your throbbing center.

Throwing your head back – you rock your hips back and forth against his clothed cock – feeling him press himself harder into you, rubbing himself against your core with deep throaty groans of pleasure leaving his mouth. You try to match his movements, hips bouncing up and down against him with needy whines leaving your lips. You both hiss when his cockhead brushes up against your clit – he rubs himself back and forth repeatedly, slowly while you move faster – chasing that high and in that moment you knew of the pleasure and the high that Sylus mentioned earlier because your body was reveling in it.

Your stomach swoops at the sticky sounds that come from your pussy and the soft noises he makes. Even with soundproof office spaces, you wouldn’t be surprised if someone heard you both. Lazy grinding becomes thrusting again before downright dirty gyrating of both of you against each other – so close, you were almost there yet again. Pathetic sinful whimpers falling out of your mouth, he presses openmouthed kisses up and down your neck, nibbling on your clavicle. Your back arches, tears falling from your eyes, your pussy sliding against him and his hips stuttering. But he stops, standing you both up.

“W–why’d you stop?” You’re gasping for air on trembling legs, he holds you close. Small sniffles leaving your mouth, desperate to feel him.

“I believe our time is up, sweetie. Maybe another visit will help unpack more.” He chuckles, walking towards the door. “I’ll return these on my next visit.”

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benevolentbones · 5 months ago

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Hi ✨️✨️

Emily's sister likes Reid and flirts with him a lot before asking him out and he's all shy.

your type | spencer reid x prentiss!reader

warnings: none really, alcohol consumption, flirting

word count: 1.7k

a/n: hi!! hope you enjoy nervous spencer :) love him. reblogs and comments appreciated <3

half team were sitting around the office, finishing off the last of their paperwork for the night, it was a friday night and a certain member of the team was growing bored of filing away the never ending pile of reports. hotch, jj and gideon had already left for the night, leaving the rest of the team to finish off the workload.

emily leaned back in her desk chair, her red long sleeve shirt complimenting her complexion as she tucked her dark locks behind her ears.

“it’s friday night- we should go out and do something fun. lets go to a bar.” emily spoke, interrupting the sound of keyboards clacking and paper shuffling.

“i agree, let’s get out of here.” derek grinned, standing up from his seated position to have a well deserved stretch, his shoulder making a popping sound as he did so.

“reid, you in?”

spencer adjusted his posture at the sound of his name, his head turning towards his colleagues.

“i don’t know guys- i kind of wanted to read ‘the history of torture’ by george riley scott.” he responded, scratching the back of his head.

“the history of torture? on a friday night?” derek shot spencer a confused expression.

“just a bit of light reading.” spencer shrugged.

“nope, i want you guys to meet my sister, she’s a bartender at this new place down the road. it’ll be fun.” emily stood up, grabbing her bag that sat under her desk.

“but-“

“you can read tomorrow, right now it’s time for you to socialise. morgan text garcia, let’s go.”

spencer found himself sitting in the backseat of emily’s car as she drove downtown, derek sat in the front. penelope had replied saying she would meet everyone there.

“i don’t see why the child locks were necessary.” spencer mumbled, pulling on the inside door handle.

“shh. we’re almost here.” emily pulled up next to bar, there was a group of people standing outside cigarettes resting between their index and middle fingers. clouds of smoke plumed into the night sky, through the hazy air a neon sign read ‘the wine seller’.

emily unlocked the car, stepping out and strutting her way to the entrance, derek and spencer following close behind. in the midst of all the smoke stood garcia, her blonde hair tied in space buns with a blue polkadot dress adorning her form.

“are we ready to party!” she exclaimed, clearly she had already had a drink or two.

everyone stumbled into the bar, immediately a wave of noise washed over them. i’m the centre of it all, people were dancing on each other flashing lights casting rays of colour over their sweaty bodies.

“is your sister cute?” derek questioned emily over the loud music.

she rolled her eyes in response. “you could say that.”

“what’s her type?” he grinned, scanning the bar.

“oh you’ll see.” emily chuckled.

spencer rolled his shoulders nervously, trailing behind emily who was making a b line for the bar. she called out to a girl who was facing the shelves full of liquor.

“y/n!”

you whipped your head around to see where the voice had come from, a grin immediately forming when you saw your older sister stood at the bar.

“emily! finally made it out of the office i see.” you chuckled, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the shelf and pouring it into a shot glass for the man that stood at the bar. he nodded as a thank you and made his way back to the dance floor.

“it’s busy in here wow.” emily muttered, eyes scanning the room as she rested her hands on the bar counter.

“mhm i sure know how to bring in a crowd, what can i get for you and… you lot?” you peered around at the three people behind you. penelope rushed to emily’s side giving you a big smile.

“oh right, this is penelope, derek and spencer, from the bau.” you gave everyone a small smile, your eyes lingering on the taller hazel eyed man who stood awkwardly behind emily.

“i’ll take a pink gin and lemonade.” she shouted over the music, you nodded with a smile and reached for the gin.

derek strolled over to the counter, eyeing you as you picked up a gin glass.

“i’ll just have a whiskey.” he shot you a grin which you returned.

“make that two.” emily added, rooting in her bag for her wallet.

you made the drinks and laid them out along the counter for the team to take.

“and for the cutie in the back?” your voice travelled to spencer who seemed caught off guard by your comment.

“uh- me? uh i’ll have i uh- vodka soda.” he stuttered out, heat rising to his face.

“whatever you want sweetheart.” you shot him a wink and began to make his drink.

emily turned her focus to derek who was sipping at his drink.

“i see why you wanted to bring reid here so bad.” he laughed, and then dragged garcia to the dance floor.

“y/n what time do you get off, will you have a drink with us?” emily asked, taking a gulp of her drink immediately feeling the alcohol’s warmth spread through her body.

“twenty minutes em, then i’m all yours.”

“come find me later!” your older sister yelled out, disappearing into a crowd of warm bodies.

you served up spencer’s drink, passing it to him. he tucked his hair behind his ear before reaching for his wallet to pay.

“don’t worry, it’s on me.” you shot him a charming smile which he returned.

“t-thanks y/n.” he reached for the drink, taking a small sip, before taking a seat at the bar. you raised your eyebrow slightly in surprise, not expecting him to take a seat.

you could tell he was very much out of his element, that everyone had just come from the office. he wore a white striped button up shirt paired with a pair of suit trousers, his tie hung loose around his neck. his big eyes wandered around the room before falling back on you, you had already moved on to making cocktails for a bridal party to his left.

spencer studied your form, your quick movements and ability to multitask in such a busy environment impressed him. you wore a tight black tank top along with a black miniskirt the ended just above your mid thigh, and a small black apron was tied around your waist.

he couldn’t help but stare at your figure as you rushed around the bar, your form fitting clothing showing off every curve to your body, in all honestly he was infatuated.

finally the rush had died down and you were making your way back to your side of the bar to polish more glasses, you noticed spencer’s intense gaze on you and smiled to yourself.

“you like what you see, dr.reid?” you questioned, poking fun.

he immediately pulled his fixed look from your body and up to your eyes.

“i- uh sorry.” he nervously sipped at his drink, feeling embarrassed.

“don’t be, you’re pretty cute yourself.” you shot him a small wink and he felt his face flush.

“so spencer, how are you liking working at the bau?” you quizzed, carrying a stack of glasses to the shelf behind you.

“uh- it’s good, i like that i can help people.” he muttered out a vague answer, which he followed with a question.

“a-and do you like being a bartender?”

you shrugged, wandering back to stand in front of spencer.

“it’s just a part time job, i’m studying criminal psychology right now in college, im in my third year.” this got his attention, he straightened his posture, taking another sip of his drink.

“oh really? that’s so interesting- what do you plan on doing after?” he seemed less anxious now.

“i’m not really sure, might do a masters- it was emily’s suggestion.” you let out a small laugh, spencer longed to hear you laugh more.

“i take it this isn’t really your vibe?” you stated, looking around the bar at people making out and dancing, spencer followed your stare. emily and penelope were in the middle of the dance floor cheering derek on who had now taken his shirt off and was swinging it above his head.

“uh- no not really, i didn’t really plan on coming here tonight, but prentiss- your sister, she kind of child locked me in her car.” he mumbled out, an awkward laugh leaving his mouth.

you pinched your eyebrows, shaking your head and letting out a joking sigh. “she’s trying to set me up.”

“set you up?” he repeated what you had said.

your face warmed as you began to speak, “i broke up with my ex over a year ago and was recently complaining about how i can never meet any decent guys at the bar, because- i mean look.” you gestured to a corner where a group of frat bros were downing their beers.

“and em said she knew someone who would be great for me.” you eyes landing back on spencer.

“you mean me?” he pointed to himself, still somewhat confused.

you nodded. “i mean she managed to guess my type exactly, can’t blame her there.” you now gestured to spencer, his face burning a dark crimson, and it wasn’t the alcohol’s fault.

“i mean i hope you’re single- and i’m not just aimlessly flirting with a taken man. that would be a little embarrassing..” you trailed off, rubbing the nape of your neck, your tank top lifted slightly revealing your midriff.

“i- i yeah i’m single.” spencer couldn’t quite grasp the fact you were flirting with him, on purpose. he honestly thought someone like you would either be in a relationship or have a line of much more attractive men just waiting to take you out.

you smiled at his flustered state, you thought he was adorable.

“well then, dr.reid, would you like to go on a date with me sometime? maybe a café or the park, somewhere not as chaotic as this?” you questioned, you were pretty confident in yourself, which was something that ran in your family.

“yeah…i would like that, a lot.” he smiled at you, you quickly jotted down your number on a piece of paper, passing it to spencer.

your eyes flickered to the watch on your wrist, a smile spreading across your face.

“time for me to clock out, darlin. i’ll be right back.” and with that you skipped off into the back of the bar to grab your things, your heart beating twice as quick.

taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea @thedancingnerdmermaid

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff

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chleem · 13 days ago

Text

Work from home

Oneshot: bf drew x gf yn

Summary: staying focused is impossible with drew’s ‘subtle’ distractions, especially when he’s determined to get your attention.

Genre: established relationship, smut, fluff, light reading

Warnings: cursing, sex (pussy eating), lowkey needy drew,

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Will you-“

You turn around, slapping the pen out of Drew’s hand. “Cut it out?”

Drew looks at you with his signature blank stare, as if his own annoyance is justified.

The two of you haven’t seen each other in weeks, due to you and Drew’s busy schedules. His new movie’s coming out, and you have a very urgent report to write for your boss.

Now that you’re finally under the same roof as him, you can’t help but get annoyed at every distraction he causes.

He came into the home office not even ten minutes, and he’s occupied himself by playing with the things on your desk. Flipping through your binders, messing with the AC, etc. You just deprived him of his last fidget toy.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, unapologetically.

You roll your eyes, turning back to your laptop. You continue typing, ignoring the gloomy presence behind you. If he wasn’t so distracting, this report can be done in...an hour.

Not even thirty seconds later; “hey, um, I need your help,” you hear him talking behind you, a weight put on the armrest to your right.

You ignore it; knowing Drew just wanted to distract you.

“Y/n?” His fingers drum against your armrest now, tapping impatiently, trying to get your attention.

Once again, you stay focused, typing away at your report.

“Babe.”

You don’t miss the firm, almost commanding tone hinted in his nickname for you.

“Yes?” You bat your eyelashes up at him, with your fingers still typing away. You watch as his eyes glance over at your fingers, his eyes narrowing in disapproval.

“Stop that-“ his hand hover over yours before gently pressing them flat against the keyboard, halting your typing. Your raise an eyebrow at Drew, waiting for him to explain. “Stop with this whole- work thing.”

You pull your fingers out, crossing your arms as you laid back on your chair. He ignited a flare inside of you that you didn’t know, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

Drew gently bites down on his lips, scratching the back of his head. His eyes plead to you, the blue in them sparkling, for some reason. “Spend time with me. I’m bored, and we’re home together.”

The softness in his tone catches you off guard, but you quickly mask it, staring back at your laptop screen. “I’m working, Drew,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

“You’re always working…” you hear him murmur, as your hands go back to the keyboard again. You brush his hands away, straightening your posture.

The typing of your keyboard is the only thing filling the silence of the room, Drew’s presence close beside you.

Drew’s a big guy, so subtle movements by him was all noticeable in the corner of your eye. He kneels beside you, his hand pulling your chair back. “Hey-“

You begin to protest, but he does the most unexpected thing.

He brings himself between your legs, and he hugs your lower stomach.

Woah. The warmth of him floods through you, making it hard to think straight. His arms fully wrap around your waist, nuzzling his face between your thighs.

He doesn’t move; just hugging your waist, kneeling on the ground.

You clear your throat, flustered at the close proximity of him. “Drew?”

His blue eyes peek up at you, a sly glint in them. “Yeah?” His voice is soft, but you hear the teasing edge in it. What sends you over is the closeness of his face near your core; the damn thin material of your shorts.

“What are you doing?” Was your voice always this hitched?

“Just hugging you,” Drew mumbles, his fingers rubbing soft circles around the bare skin that your crop-top showed. He sees the skepticism lingering on your features, and sends a small smirk along the way. “Can’t I?”

…This motherfucker. He’s trying to distract you!

Fine. Two could play this game.

With a deliberate shift, you ease back into your chair. “Of course you can,” you reply, “But if you’re done with the hugging, I’ve got work to do.”

Drew watches you for a beat, eyes flicking over your face. You feel him nuzzle his face back between your thighs, but you stay focused—typing, clicking, pretending to give him no more attention than his little distractions deserve.

His hand slips under your top, fingers coming in contact with your breasts.

At the same time, he starts to plant kisses on your inner thigh, dangerously close to the hem of your underwear.

Fuck. You needed to stop him, because if he goes any further, no work will be done. Except for the lustful one that’s building in your stomach.

Two could play this game? No; you yield in seconds because of how Drew plays.

You run your hands through his scalp, feeling the soft strands of hair beneath your touch. A knowing smirk growing on his lips as he glances up at you. “This isn’t a hug,” you manage to say, thumb rubbing the corner of his eye.

He leans into your touch, “I’know.”

“Then stop it,” you say, the words feeling hollow, because you don’t want him to stop. Not really.

“When you’re focused, nothing else really matters, right?”

Drew fucking Starkey.

He delivers a quick kiss to your wrist, before nuzzling his face back to where it was. You watch as his hands spreads your thighs further apart, fingers tugging on the waistband of your shorts.

Shit. It’s working already.

“No-“

“C’mon,” he teases, staring up at you with the familiar look of mischief. “Won’t even know I’m down here.”

You give him a knowing grin, “really need to get this done, Drew.”

“Hmm,” he pats your back, “ignore me like before, babe.”

“Y’know that’s impossible,” you mumble, hips rising just like he told you to.

His eyes stare into yours lustfully, fingers pulling down your shorts and underwear until they’re to your knees. “Just a taste…then I’ll leave you alone.”

He’s never going to leave you alone.

He averts his attention to the now throbbing pussy of yours, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs. “Hey, look,” a grin appears on his lips, “you don’t want me to leave.”

You throw your head back against the chair, partly embarrassed at his mention of the wetness that has pooled since he ‘hugged’ you. Teasing prick.

His soft chuckle echos through the room, before you feel the warmth of his tongue against your folds.

You gasp out of pleasure and surprise; he wastes no time in eating you, fully making out with your folds. “Fuck,” you curse, running your hands through his scalp.

He grunts against you, one hand raising your leg over his shoulder, to get him deeper between you. His other hand reaches under your top, and he starts kneading your breasts.

“Drew…” you shamelessly moan out his name, melting under his touch; he knew how to pleasure you, to make you feel good. Hearing your moans, Drew picks up the pace, his licks getting sloppier, losing any sense of rhythm.

A slow curve of your spine, you let the sensation roll through you. His hand around your breasts play with your hardened nipples, rubbing and tugging on them. The grip your thigh silently demands you stay still as he eats you out.

The sounds of his wet tongue against you fills the room, along with moans and grunts of pleasure.

You feel your orgasm building, begging to released. “Shit,” you manage to say, the air being knocked out of you. “I’m, close.”

“Mhm,” he hums, hot breath hitting your clit. “Cum in my mouth, baby.”

His words along with the playing of your nipples do it; the knot in your stomach undone. He slows down on his tongue, licking it up and swallowing. Fuck.

For a moment, the two of you take seconds just stare into each other’s eyes, heavy breaths mixing together.

Then, the moment is over, because Drew lets go of your leg, breasts, the whole warmth of him disappearing.

You stare at him confused as he stands up again, wondering if something shifted.

You also don’t miss the evident boner in his pants.

He cocks his head to the side, “back to work, huh?” The mocking in his voice stings in your head, as he walks off, out your office.

Motherfucker. You sit there, still reeling from the orgasm. You don’t even want - can’t to do work anymore. Now? You just want Drew. Specifically what’s growing in his pants.

Maybe this report can wait a bit longer? …you hate how badly you want him right now, how he got you right where he wants you to be.

“Drew!” You yell after him, getting up and tugging your underwear and shorts to the floor.

You walk out your home office, to the shared bedroom, and see Drew getting ready to hop in bed.

He looks you up and down, eyes lingering longer at your naked lower half. Your eyes find them glued to his boner too, “maybe I can have a five minute break.”

He chuckles, the sound low and warm, and before you can even think, you’re jumping into his arms. His strong hands catches you effortlessly, pulling you closer as you wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest, the heat of his body enveloping you.

His arms tighten around you, holding you steady as you lean in, lips finding his. You kiss him, with eagerness, lust, everything. He kisses you back with the same energy, lying you down on the bed.

He hovers over you, his weight just enough to make your heart race, your hands already reaching for the buttons of his shirt.

But Drew pulls away, his blue eyes locking with yours, a playful edge in them. “This could take longer than five,” he says, his voice low, teasing, and full of promise.

“Hmm,” you mindlessly hum, the idea of work slipping away.

He was right; it ended up being not one, but three rounds tangled up in sheets, and the report long forgotten.

It was also a lesson to yourself; to stop procrastinating, and never work with Drew around.

-------------------------------

word count: 1.7k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: hoped you enjoyed this! got this idea from watching that scene from Through my Window (iykyk). and ik, its a very sloppy writing so ignore any mistakes T_T also, isnt this pic of him just delicious? ugh, to be his gf...anyways, hope you liked this!

#drew starkey #drew starkey x you #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #x reader #fiction #fluff #smut #oneshot #drabble #relationship #established relationship

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hoe4hotchner · 3 months ago

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Hi there! Can you write some HotchxColonelReader?! Like the Team comes by morging and sees Hotch, Strauss, Rossi and a woman from the army discussing something at Hotch's office about a case. Then, then discovery that THAT is the Hotchs' wife?! Sorry about my english. :) And Thank yoouuuuuuu!! I love all your work!!!

Absolutely!!! This was so much fun to write, and such a different prompt to what I usually get 🫶 Don't worry about your english ;) i'm not a native speaker 💕😘

Reverence | [A.H]

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘈𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘔𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘊𝘞: 𝘔𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘱, 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘺𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘴, 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳, 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘥𝘺𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘞𝘊: 1𝘬

The early morning haze clung to the bullpen, and the rhythmic hum of coffee machines mixed with the muffled clicks of keyboards as the team settled into their desks. The quiet lull of routine was only broken by Morgan’s curious gaze as he caught a glimpse of Hotch’s office from across the room. The blinds were open, revealing an unusual scene - Hotch, Strauss, Rossi, and an unfamiliar woman standing together in what could only be described as a tense, closed-door meeting. The three agents looked on edge compared to her.

“Hey,” Morgan called out quietly, his voice low with intrigue as he nodded toward the glass window. “What’s going on in there?”

JJ glanced over from her desk, noticing the woman in uniform standing alongside the senior agents. Her sharp, tailored military attire contrasted starkly against the office's corporate formality. The woman exuded authority; her posture was stiff, shoulders back, chin raised with the kind of self-assurance that comes from years of commanding subordinates.

“Who is she?” JJ whispered, leaning forward. “She looks like she’s ready to bark out several orders any second now.”

Morgan folded his arms across his chest, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Definitely military or marines. Look at that posture. You don’t stand like that out of free will unless you’ve seen action.”

Reid, already drawn into the mystery woman, was fidgeting with the edge of his sweater trying to piece the puzzle together. “Maybe she’s part of an interagency collaboration? It could be something related to national security.”

As the team watched, the woman turned slightly, her profile sharp and no-nonsense. Her movements were measured, and deliberate - every inch of her seemed to be about precision and control. Even though they were observing her through glass, it felt like her presence dominated the entire office.

They didn’t have long to speculate before the door to Hotch’s office clicked open. Strauss emerged first, her usual expression in place as she nodded to the agents, followed by Rossi, who sported his signature knowing grin with a quick wink. But it was the woman who truly commanded attention as she stepped into the bullpen. The clack of her polished boots against the floor was precise, each step purposeful and calculated. Her uniform gleamed under the fluorescent lights, the medals and badges catching the glint of rays from the morning sun through the windows. She held her head high, her gaze sweeping the room like a hawk surveying its territory.

Morgan straightened in his chair as she walked past, eyes wide with respect. “She’s definitely not here for pleasantries.”

Before anyone could add another word, the woman stopped, her sharp gaze locking onto the team. It wasn’t just a glance - it was the kind of stare that felt like being x-rayed. The whispers, the subtle looks, the quiet gossip - they hadn’t gone unnoticed. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and with a swift motion, she crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze narrowing.

The air in the room shifted instantly as she addressed them. Her voice, though calm, carried the unmistakable weight of authority. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

The team froze. Her tone wasn’t loud, but it was firm, resonating with the controlled power of someone who was used to giving orders. It sliced through the air like a knife, leaving a lingering tension in its wake. JJ’s mouth opened slightly, Morgan leaned forward, and even Reid looked uncharacteristically startled.

“No, ma’am,” they responded in unison, almost instinctively. The words tumbled out, a reflex to the command in her voice. It was as if, for a brief moment, they were recruits in boot camp being called to attention.

Her eyes lingered on them for a moment, assessing, before a flicker of amusement danced across her features. Her posture remained as strict as before, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth. She nodded once, satisfied with their response, then turned her attention back to Hotch, who stood quietly in the doorway of his office.

“I’ll be returning to base,” she said, her voice noticeably softer, though still firm. She gave Hotch a look that lingered just a fraction too long for it to be strictly professional.

“Thank you for coming by,” Hotch replied, his tone warm but restrained. There was something different about the way he spoke to her - his usual clipped authority was replaced by an almost imperceptible tenderness.

“Of course,” she replied, a small smile tugging at her lips. Then, her voice dropped into something far more intimate. “Aaron.”

The use of his first name hung in the air, so casual, so familiar, yet it sent shockwaves through the team.

JJ’s eyes widened. “Did she just call him Aaron?”

Morgan’s jaw nearly dropped. “Hold up. Did she just—?”

The woman didn’t wait for their reactions. With a brisk turn, she walked out of the office, her boots echoing down the hallway as she left, her military bearing never faltering. It was only after the door had swung shut behind her that Rossi, who had been watching the whole thing with barely concealed amusement, let out a chuckle.

“Looks like the cat’s out of the bag,” Rossi said, crossing his arms as he leaned against a desk in the bullpen. “That, ladies and gentlemen, is Hotch’s wife.”

The team stared at him, slack-jawed.

“His wife?” JJ managed, her voice unbelieving.

“Colonel actually,” Rossi clarified, eyes twinkling with mischief. “She’s been in the army for years. Taught Hotch everything he knows about being strict.”

“She’s tougher than Hotch,” Morgan added, still trying to wrap his head around the revelation.

“Way tougher,” Rossi said, winking at the team.

“That was… something else.” Emily managed to say through her disbelief.

They turned to look at Hotch, before he returned to his office, his expression unreadable as he resumed his work. For a brief second, though, as his gaze flicked toward the team, they could see the faintest smile - a private, almost imperceptible curve of his lips.

“You never asked,” he said simply, allowing a rare smile to tug at the corners of his lips before turning his attention back to his office and paperwork, leaving the team still gaping.

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beingjellybeans · 2 years ago

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aliyahwritings · 1 month ago

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THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (02)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 4.1k

Aliyah's Notes: rafe triple appearances 👏 i actually rlly like this yk like the pacing and the dynamics are great imo. i hope u all will like it too. reader seems like such a jobless ho in this chap but she's booked and busy yall i promise

As the early morning sunlight streamed through the large windows of your apartment, you stood in front of your full-length mirror, taking a deep breath as she surveyed her reflection. Today was the day—the day you would finally meet Rafe Cameron and discuss the terms of your marriage arrangement. The thought made your stomach flutter with a mix of excitement and anxiety.

Despite your bubbling personality, the pressure of the situation weighed heavily on your shoulders. You had spent the past few days steeling yourself for this moment, and now that it was finally here, the reality of it sent your heart racing.

You glanced at your closet, a vibrant array of outfits hanging neatly. You had planned to wear something that screamed “fabulous”, but time was slipping away from you. You settled on a leopard-print strapless top, pairing it with a denim mini skirt. You slipped on your favorite black heels, which added just the right amount of height and made your legs longer. You grabbed your black Prada bag, a reminder of the success you had fought so hard to achieve.

Despite your nerves, you felt a surge of excitement. This meeting was a step forward resolving your visa issues, and you were determined to make the best of it. You wanted to present yourself as confident, someone who could hold your own—especially when facing someone like Rafe Cameron.

You slipped into the back seat of your private car, offering a quick nod to your driver, Gregory. As the engine purred to life, you felt your heart pounding in your ears, each beat amplifying the weight of anticipation.

When you arrived at the law office, your gaze immediately landed on Nicolas, your lawyer. He stood up from his chair and made his way over, exchanging small talk that felt oddly comforting amid the tension. Together, you entered the meeting room, where Rafe and his lawyer were already waiting for you.

Even seated, his presence dominated the space. His broad shoulders, casual posture, and confident smirk that made him look every bit the arrogant athlete you had read about. His lawyer, Sabrina Rashid, sat beside him, a sharply dressed woman who radiated professionalism. Rafe, on the other hand, looked annoyingly relaxed in a plain white t-shirt and black jeans.

Well, this made you look overdressed… Embarrassing, but you kept your head held high.

Nicolas gestured toward the table. “Shall we?”

You slid into the chair opposite Rafe, offering a small nod to his lawyer before turning your attention to him. His blue eyes flickered over you, lingering longer than necessary. You could practically feel his ego inflate with every second.

“You’re late,” he drawled, breaking the silence. His voice was as cocky as his expression.

You arched a brow, setting your Prada bag on the table with a soft thud. “Hello to you too—and you’re lucky I showed up at all, considering your reputation.”

He smiled. “Feisty. I like that.”

And so, you cringed at his words. You rolled your eyes, refusing to take the bait. “Let’s get to the point, shall we?”

Nico cleared his throat, clearly eager to steer the conversation to business. “Yes, well, the purpose of today’s meeting is to discuss the logistics of the marriage arrangement—specifically, where you’ll be living, financial obligations, and how this will be handled publicly.”

“Publicly?” you repeated, frowning slightly. “I thought this was supposed to be discreet.”

Rafe shrugged. “I don’t do discreet, sweetheart.”

You shot him a glare. “I am not your sweetheart.”

“Not yet, but wait ‘till we’re married.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by his audacity, but recovered. “This isn’t going to be like that. We’re not doing some fake, lovey-dovey routine for the press.”

Rafe leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “Who said anything about love? I’m talking about looking like a normal couple, someone the media can’t tear apart every other week. It’s all about appearances, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me sweetheart.”

“Whatever you say,” he grinned. “Plus, you gotta admit, you and I? We’d be a headline every day, sweetheart.”

“Is he serio—”

Nico stepped in before you could respond. “Alright, enough. Let’s get back on track.” He glanced at Rafe’s lawyer, who nodded and opened a folder.

“First item on the agenda: where will you two be living?” Sabrina asked, her tone professional and no-nonsense. “Given that this marriage is primary for legal purposes, we need to establish residency. For it to be legitimate, you will need to live together.”

You shot a look at Rafe, who was already smirking like he’d won some kind of silent argument. “I’m not moving in with him,” you said flatly.

“You think I’m thrilled about having a roommate? Especially one who probably spends hours in front of the mirror.”

You crossed your arms. “I do not.”

Lies.

“Oh, please. You’re a model. You probably have a different skincare for every day of the week.”

“And it’s supposed to be a bad thing because…?” You frowned. “You should take exemple. You look like you wash your face with body soap.”

Nico pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s focus, kids.”

Rafe’s lawyer continued, ignoring the banter. “You’ll need to appear as though you’re cohabiting. If not, immigration authorities will become suspicious, and the arrangement could fall apart.”

You narrowed your eyes at Rafe. “Where do you live, anyway?”

He learned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I’ve got a place in SoHo. Penthouse. Nice view, great amenities. It’s got plenty of space for you to do… whatever it is models do.”

“Funny, I have my place in the Upper East Side. And I am not giving it up.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Upper East Side, huh? Posh.”

“I earned it.”

“Well, we’ll need to figure something out,” Sabrina interjected smoothly. “But you need to live together. In one place.”

Rafe looked amused. “You can have the closet space. I’m a sweet guy like that.”

“How generous,” you muttered, turning back to the lawyers. “Fine. We can do the whole ‘living in one place together’ thing. But I need time off, to stay at my place once in a while.”

Rafe winked. “Wouldn’t want to cramp your style.”

You ignored him. “What about finances? How is this going to work?”

Nico pulled out his own folder. “We’ve drafted a preliminary agreement outlining financial contributions from both parties. It’s important that this marriage appears legitimate, so we suggest pooling certain expenses—utilities, rent or mortgage payments, and shared household costs. This can be done through a joint account, which will be monitored to ensure the marriage looks genuine.”

You could feel Rafe’s eyes on you, and you shot him a look. “A joint account? I hope you’re not expecting me to pay for your post-game drinks?”

He chuckled. “Relax. I’ve got more money than you can spend in a lifetime. The joint account is just for show. But if you want to chip in for groceries, I won’t stop you.”

“Oh, how noble of you,” you replied dryly.

Nico glanced between you and Rafe, clearly trying to keep the conversation on track. “This account will cover all necessary shared expenses—bills, groceries, and any incidentals that may arise from your living arrangements. It’ll help maintain the appearance of a genuine marriage.”

Sabrina nodded in agreement. “Exactly. As for your individual assets, those will remain separate. No need to worry about your personal finances getting tangled up.”

You relaxed a little at that. “Good.”

“And what about public appearances?” Rafe asked, sounding surprisingly serious. “How often do we need to do the whole ‘happy couple’ thing?”

Nico exchanged a look with Rafe’s lawyer. “You’ll need to be seen together frequently enough to make it believable, but not so much that it seems forced. A few key events—charity galas, public outings—will suffice. It’s important that you strike a balance.”

Rafe shrugged. “I’ve got games, events, plenty of opportunities to be seen.”

You sighed. “I have shoots, fashion shows, and meetings. We’re both busy.”

“Sounds like we’ll have to schedule our love life,” he quipped, flashing you a grin that made you want to throttle at him.

You gave him a sweet smile. “Good thing it’s not real.”

He laughed, and for a second, the tension in the room eased.

Nico shuffled his papers. “There’s one more thing to discuss—media coverage. Given that Mr. Cameron is already in the spotlight, it’s important to control the narrative.”

Sabrina continued; “We’ll need to issue a carefully crafted statement once the marriage is official. Something that explains how you met, why you’re together, and addresses any potential rumors before they can spiral out of control.”

“A public statement?” You cringed at the thought.

“It’s necessary,” Nico said. “If this looks like a publicity stunt, it could raise red flags with immigration.”

Rafe leaned back in his chair, looking far too relaxed for the situation. “Don’t worry, we’ll make it believable. I’m great with the media.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what worries me,” you muttered.

He smirked. “Come on, sweetie. We’ll be the hottest couple in New York. Think of the headlines.”

“I’d rather not,” you moved your hands dismissively.

The lawyer continued discussing the finer details of the arrangement—contract clauses, confidentiality agreements, and timelines. You zoned out for a moment, your eyes drifting back to Rafe. Despite his infuriating attitude, there was something about him. Something that made you feel like this might not be the worst decision after all.

“I hope you’re prepared for the spotlight,” he said suddenly, snapping you back to reality. “The media’s gonna eat this up.”

You arched a brow. “Please. I’ve been in the spotlight longer than you have, and with far less drama.”

He grinned. “We’ll see about that.”

You leaned forward, meeting his gaze head-on, the space between you suddenly charged. “I’m not one of your little fangirls, Rafe. You might charm the media, but you’re not charming me.”

His smirk faltered, just for a second, replaced by something darker, more intense. His gaze dipped, lingering on your exposed cleavage, heat flaring in his eyes. You felt a spark, your breath catching as your own eyes betrayed you, flickering to his lips—pink, curved, and way too tempting for your liking. The air between you thickened, crackling with an unspoken challenge, the playful banter giving way to something far more dangerous.

Rafe’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and for a moment, you forgot where you were, the weight of his stare pulling you in. The thought of what it would feel like to wipe that cocky grin off his face—or maybe even taste it—flickering through your mind.

But then Nico cleared his throat, shattering the moment like glass, and you quickly sat back, your heart racing as you wrenched your gaze away from Rafe’s.

“So, we have a deal?” Rafe asked, cutting through the tension.

You glanced at Nico, who gave you a subtle nod of reassurance. With a deep breath, you turned to Rafe and extended your hand. “Yes, we do.”

His hand clasped yours, warm and firm. “Looking forward to being your husband, sweetheart.”

“Looking forward to not being your wife,” you rolled your eyes, pulling your hand back. “This is purely business. Don’t get any ideas.”

“Whatever you say, wife.”

The next few days passed in a blur of contracts, legal jargon, and meetings with Nico, Sabrina, and Rafe. You had signed your life away—well, not really your life, but it certainly felt like it.

You were lounging in your Upper East Side apartment, scrolling through Instagram when your phone buzzed.

Rafe Cameron.

Just seeing his name made your stomach tighten with a mix of irritation and something else you couldn’t quite place. Hesitantly, you opened the message.

Rafe: “When do you plan on moving in?”

You stared at the screen for a second before typing.

You: “I’m not even packed yet… what the hell.”

Rafe: “What you waiting for? You’re not chickening out, are you, sweetheart?”

There it was again—sweetheart. That nickname got on your nerves, but you were determined not to let him get under your skin (although he already did).

You: “Stop calling me that, and also I have a job and a life. I can’t just drop everything to move into your stinky place.”

Rafe: “I’m offering help.”

You snorted at your phone. Right, because Rafe Cameron would actually help you pack your boxes.

You: “What are you gonna do? Carry my shoes for me?”

Rafe: “If it gets you here faster, then sure. I’ll be here tomorrow.”

Your eyes widened. Was he serious? You couldn’t picture Rafe Cameron, basketball star and all-around cocky jerk, standing in your apartment, packing boxes and loading them into a truck. The mental image alone was laughable.

You: “Wait! No!”

Rafe: “Why no? You need a few more days to decide on what to pick?”

You: “Jerk.”

Rafe: ":)"

You: “And I can’t move in yet. We need to make a public appearance and get married before I start packing and do all the move-in things.”

There was a pause before his response came through.

Rafe: “Fair.”

You: “Excited to live with me, am I right?”

Rafe: “Projecting much?”

You: “You wish.”

Rafe: “Ditto, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes. You quickly clicked on the rolling eyes emoji as a response and threw your phone onto the couch, not wanting to keep talking to him.

The next morning, you blinked your eyes open, greeted by the familiar warmth of your apartment, and for a fleeting moment, you forgot about everything. The visage, the arrangement, the pressure, the stress, immigration, Rafe Cameron—all of it felt distant, like a strange dream.

But then reality settled back in.

You groaned softly, burying your face into your pillow for a second longer before sighing and throwing off the covers. Today was yet another meeting with the lawyers, and you already were over it.

You knew marriage was a lot of papers and documents, but you truly didn’t think it was this much.

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you padded across the plush carpet to your closet, glancing at the outfits hanging neatly in a row. Usually, your first thought would be what designer outfit to wear today but you couldn’t muster the energy to care this morning. Today wasn’t about looking fabulous; it was about getting down to business, and you didn’t care how you looked because you’d be stuck in a room for hours with two lawyers and your future husband.

Future husband… God, how weird was it to say that about a man you didn’t even know.

Instead of focusing on it, you reached for a pair of soft gray sweatpants and a simple white tank top. You pulled a thick, cozy grey cardigan over your shoulders, its warmth a small comfort against the stress building in your mind.

As you made your way to the kitchen, your phone buzzed on the countertop, and for a moment, you thought it might be Rafe. But no, it was just a reminder from Nico about the meeting. You sighed, grabbed a cup of coffee, slipped into the backseat of your car and headed to the law office.

The law office was as sleek and imposing as ever—polished wood, glass walls, and the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air. You stepped into the conference room, finding Nicolas and Sabrina already seated at the table, a stack of papers in front of them. They looked up and offered polite smiles as you entered.

“Morning,” you said, taking a seat and smoothing the sleeves of your cardigan.

“Morning, Y/N,” Nico replied, his tone friendly but businesslike. “How’re you feeling?”

You hesitated, offering a half-hearted smile. “A bit nervous and tired, I guess. But ready to get things moving.”

Nico nodded, glancing at the empty seat beside you before opening his mouth to speak, but Sabrina beat him to it.

“Hello, Ms. Y/L/N, just to let you know—Rafe won’t be joining us today.”

Your heart sank, but you tried not to show it. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“Last-minute practice session,” she explained, her tone casual. “It was unavoidable, apparently. He couldn’t get out of it.”

You nodded slowly, processing the information. It wasn’t that you were angry—just… bothered. This was an important meeting, after all. Even though this marriage was fake, it still involved a lot of big decisions. Decisions you didn’t feel comfortable making without him.

“Okay,” you said after a moment. “I guess we’ll have to catch him up later, then.”

Sabrina gave you a sympathetic look. “I’ll make sure he’s informed about everything. I know it’s frustrating, but Rafe’s schedule can be pretty unpredictable.”

“I get it,” you replied with a shrug, trying to convince yourself it wasn’t that big of a deal. “It’s just... this is important, you know? It would’ve been nice to have him here for this.”

“I understand,” Sabrina said gently. “And I’ll make sure he’s fully briefed on everything. He’s committed to this, even if it doesn’t always seem that way.”

You nodded, still feeling a bit unsettled but trying to brush it off. He was used to a chaotic schedule, and you couldn’t expect him to drop everything for every meeting. But still... you couldn’t shake the slight discomfort gnawing at you.

“Okay,” you said, trying to focus on the task at hand. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

Nico flipped through the stack of papers in front of him. “We’ve got a lot to cover. First off, the wedding itself. We need to finalize a date, and given your visa situation, we’re looking at a timeline of about three weeks.”

“Three weeks?!” you exclaimed, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. It was sooner than you’d expected, but you understood the urgency. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Nico said, waving his hands. “We need to move quickly. The sooner the marriage is official, the sooner we can start the immigration process. And in the meantime, you and Rafe will need to be seen together publicly—on dates, outings, and even social media.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, feeling a little overwhelmed. “Public appearances... right. How often are we talking?”

“Enough to make it believable,” Sabrina took over. “We don’t want to overwhelm you, but it’s important that you’re seen together frequently. A few key public outings, some posts on social media—it’ll help establish the narrative that you’re a real couple.”

You nodded. “And Rafe’s on board with all of this?”

“He is,” Sabrina reassured you. “We’ve discussed it, and he knows what’s required.”

“Okay,” you said, feeling a bit more reassured but still uneasy. The idea of staging your life for the public was daunting. It wasn’t just about attending a few events or posting pictures—it was about selling the image of a relationship that didn’t exist. And with Rafe not even here for the planning, you couldn’t help but feel a little disconnected from it all.

You smiled faintly. “It just feels... strange, doing all of this without Rafe. I mean, I know it’s a fake marriage, but it would still be nice to have him involved, you know?”

“I understand,” Sabrina said. “It’s not ideal, but Rafe’s committed to this. His schedule is unpredictable right now, but that doesn’t mean he’s not invested in making this work.”

You nodded, trying to take comfort in her words. Maybe Rafe’s absence wasn’t a sign of disinterest—maybe it was just bad timing.

Nico continued, flipping through the papers. “Let’s move on to the wedding itself. Have you given any thought to what kind of ceremony you want?”

“Honestly, I haven’t thought about it at all.”

“Alright,” Nico said, nodding.

“A small ceremony,” you echoed, thinking it over. “It… It could be nice, no? That could work—but shouldn’t Rafe have a say in this?”

“He will,” Nico assured you. “Mrs. Rashid will loop him in on everything. But for now, we need to focus on logistics. The venue, the guest list, the timeline—it’s all about making sure everything looks legitimate to immigration.”

“Okay. Let’s go with the small ceremony, then. But I’d still like Rafe’s input before we make any final decisions,” you said softly, your cheeks warming slightly.

“Of course,” both lawyers said with a smile.

The conversation shifted to the finer details—the venue, the guest list, the timing of public appearances. It felt more like planning an elaborate PR campaign than a wedding, but you tried to stay focused. Every decision was one step closer to securing your future, even if it didn’t feel real.

The meeting felt like a marathon. You exhaled a long, tired sigh, your head spinning with wedding details and timelines. You couldn’t help but glance at your phone again, half-expecting a message from Rafe. But there was nothing. He was at practice, wrapped up in whatever game plan his team was working on.

You adjusted the strap of your tote bag and pulled your cardigan tighter around yourself as you headed for the door. But as you opened it, you stopped short, nearly walking straight into someone standing just outside.

“Whoa—” A familiar voice interrupted your thoughts, and you blinked up to see Rafe Cameron standing there, leaning against the doorframe, as if he had been waiting for you.

“Rafe?” you blurted out, surprise laced in your voice. You hadn’t expected him to be here, especially after Sabrina said he wouldn’t make it.

He straightened up quickly, looking just as startled as you. “Y/N… uh, hey. I—uh, I’m sorry I missed the meeting,” he stammered, his usual confident demeanor slipping for a moment. “I couldn’t miss practice…”

You stood there, momentarily frozen. It wasn’t like him to stutter—and it threw you off. “Oh… right. Yeah, no, it’s fine, don’t worry. Sabrina said you had practice,” you said, trying to brush off the awkwardness.

He shifted his weight, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Yeah, I, uh… tried to make it, but, you know… basketball.”

You nodded slowly, still surprised that he had actually shown up. “Well, the meeting’s over. Sabrina said she’ll catch you up on what we discussed.”

“Right, yeah, I’ll talk to her,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, so... goodbye?”

“Goodbye,” he said, looking down at the floor for a second before glancing back at you. There was a brief, awkward silence that stretched between the two of you. Neither of you moved, though you weren’t sure why.

Finally, Rafe cleared his throat, and his gaze flickered over your outfit. A slow smirk crept onto his face, his familiar cockiness returning. “So... what’s with the sweatpants and cardigan? Didn’t know you had it in you to dress so casually.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the teasing tone. “Excuse me?”

He shrugged, his smirk widening. “Just saying... it’s not exactly the runway look I was expecting from a supermodel.”

You felt a laugh bubble up in your throat before you could stop it. “You’re one to talk, Mr. I-show-up-in-a-T-shirt-to-a-business-meeting,” you shot back, your lips curving into a smile.

Rafe’s eyes lit up slightly, surprised by your reaction. It was the first time you had actually laughed at something he said, and for a moment, he just stared at you, taking in the sound. Cute, he thought to himself, the word slipping into his mind unbidden.

“At least my T-shirt was designer. This,” he flicked his gaze over your cardigan, “looks like something you stole from your grandma’s closet.”

You gasped, feigning offense. “I happen to like this cardigan, thank you very much. It’s cozy.”

He grinned. “Cozy, is it? Guess you’re preparing for the life of domestic bliss we’re about to have. How cute.”

You shook your head, fighting another smile. “Funny—like you even know the meaning of domestic bliss.”

He tilted his head, his smirk never faltering. “Who says I don’t? I could be all about the cozy life. You don’t know me.”

You arched a brow. “Really? You? In sweatpants, lounging on a couch, binge-watching Netflix?”

“I can be a homebody if I want to,” he said, shrugging, though the teasing glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t being serious. “Give me some credits, alright? I can rock sweatpants.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Maybe you will. You’ll be living with me soon enough—” you froze slightly at that reminder, and your smile wavered. He noticed the shift and cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’ll make sure to show up to the next meeting. Promise.”

You gave him a small nod, still smiling. “You’d better.”

He nodded, and for the first time since you’d met, there was no teasing in his expression—just quiet understanding. You gave him one last look before heading down the hall, feeling the warmth of your laugh still lingering in the air between you.

And Rafe stood there watching you walk away, thinking about how cute your laugh was—and how much he wanted to hear it again.

chapter three

1K notes · View notes

ittybittyfanblog · 18 days ago

Text

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition)

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus (+ maybe the other MLs!) and an oblivious player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, maybe some suggestive language?? will add more tags as the story progresses A/N: This is gonna be a multi-chapter fic! I’m still not sure whether to do the boys in rotation, or just focus on one ML per series. Don’t take my word for it atp tho – I’m not even sure if I can actually finish a series lol. Also, I’ve had the creative liberty of changing stuff from the actual gameplay here and there. (Except for the self-awareness. That’s most definitely real.) Hope you enjoy~!

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3

It’s a quarter past eight and you’re still on your desk working overtime on a Friday night.

You let out a big sigh, leaning back on your office chair after an unhealthy duration of bad posture from hours of slouching down in front of your computer. There’s nothing ergonomic about the way this job is killing you, and the ache in your lower back can attest to that.

An irate orange tabby plops himself in front of you, blocking your view of the glaring screen and you figure that it’s time for a break.

“Me-oow.”

“I know, I know,” You answer tiredly, standing up to dodge a stray paw clawing your way and you hear cracks in three different places that are honestly unbecoming of a woman your age. You haven’t even reached thirty yet, for god’s sake. “I’m a bad mother. But mom also had to skip dinner to make it to the seven PM meeting, so cut me some slack, okay?”

A high-pitched “meooowr!” is the only response you get; it seems like there’s no excusing late dinner time this time around.

As much as you’d like to hem and haw and complain, the main reason why you’re still keeping this job is because you can work remotely. If it weren’t for the fact that you’re stuck most days at home working hours past your regular nine to five, having to be on-call around the clock at all times, and that you’ve consumed more sodium than a nitrite victim with the way you live off cup ramen, then, really, it beats working in an office where you’d physically have to clock in and out from exactly nine to five.

Your right eye twitches. No, I have not fallen in love with the system that exploits me, thank you very much.

“Here is your Fancy Feast, your highness,” you tell the hungry feline who’s already ignoring the hand that feeds for the bowl full of white fish paté. He eats healthier than you, sure, but you work like this for him to eat like this. The life of a single mom is an uphill battle, but extremely rewarding.

You raise your hand to pat your son’s head lovingly, aborting the gesture halfway when you hear a warning growl. Alright, tough crowd.

After nuking a half-eaten takeout box in the microwave and grabbing a cold Bundaberg from the fridge, you hunker down on the “chaise lounge” (see: an old wingback and a rattan ottoman you’ve refurbished as a makeshift seat a few weeks back when you had guests over) for a late meal.

You barely register the taste of lukewarm rice on your tongue, mouth moving mechanically while your mind runs on autopilot about everything and nothing at the same time.

Maybe it’s time to check Jobstreet again

Is there like a laundromat near the area that’s open twenty four seven

Eugh, I hate cold peas

What do we feel about Chromakopia?

I will… die alone

I really need to stock on some fresh produce this weekend–

Ping!

A notification from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts – and like a well-trained dog pavlov’d into responding, you visibly perk up at the sight of your lock screen lighting up and the familiar banner you’ve already memorized by heart.

Your Galaxy Explorer rewards are here. Did you put my hotel’s address as the shipping address?

Ah, just like clockwork.

You press on it with a quiet, bubbling anticipation, chewing on the plastic spork as you wait impatiently for the silly mobile game that’s been your short respite at intervals – for more than you’d care to admit – to boot up.

Offhandedly, you wish that the devs would add more variations to the game’s push notifications; more random, personalized stuff like maybe a reminder to drink water, or a fun update about their day. What you’d give – pay – for a: "Less on the overtime, kitten. I miss you,” dialogue from a certain character, but you digress.

Oh, well. Probably better this way, lest you dig yourself deeper into delusion.

The game greets you with the usual picturesque view of a silver-haired man sitting cross-legged on a chair, looking all the bit at ease in his signature crimson and white button up. The warm ambience of the Destiny Café at night draws you in, already pulling your attention away from the never-ending stream of thoughts in your brain.

“Before seeing you, I thought today would be another dull day,“ Sylus comments airily. The way he drawls out the words in that deep timbre of his voice never fails to make your heart flutter – just a teeeensy bit.

“Ever the charmer,” you sigh happily in return, situating yourself more comfortably on the sofa, almost horizontal from how far you’re leaning back on the cushion. “You’re looking awfully normal tonight. What, no pineapple glasses for your favorite girl?”

Having bypassed the initial cringe of talking to yourself after literal months of gameplay, it almost comes off natural, the banter. You’ve already accepted the fact that you’re crazy about a fictional, pixelated man – what’s pretending to have actual conversations with him gonna do? It’s not as if he actually hears you yap your nonsense; there are worse things in the world than a parasocial attachment to an otome game character.

Your little jab at the sometimes random addition to his choice of attire earns you a laugh from the man itself– or at least it looks as though it does, making you blink momentarily in surprise. Happy coincidence, I guess.

You shake your head, cracking a smile, then proceed to do the routine of completing the daily agenda and then some.

It’s tedious business, sure. You’ve dedicated hours upon hours on this game and you’re honestly starting to feel pretty bored with some of the gameplay elements, but you *do* like the ritualistic nature of ticking off the tasks one by one. It’s almost ironic – the way you dutifully do one thing after the other in this game, just to avoid the pile of work that’s waiting for you in real life.

It’s not as if anything, or anyone’s relying on you to do your daily log-ins, so you suppose it’s due to that lack of pressure as well.

Pulling yourself away from the five-star Xavier memory card you’ve grinded to level seventy, you stare despondently at the sad little 2 on your remaining energy. The embarrassing amount of materials you lack to ascend the card seem to mock you, even as you exit the Memories window. Another goal for another day, perhaps.

All tasks on the daily agenda are complete, except for one that you’ve always saved for last.

You’re met with a standing Sylus on the game’s home screen, arms crossed and wearing an expression you’d almost describe as impatient, if you didn’t know any better. The sight makes you grin.

Cheekily, you poke his crotch.

You’re looking forward to getting a playful remark, or if you’re lucky, a blush along with an embarrassed retort about your shamelessness.

What you get, however, is a resounding scoff. Your eyes snap back to his face – from, ahem, your prolonged staring at the area below his waist – and you do see the familiar tinge of pink on his cheeks, but what he says in response catches you off-guard.

“You spend that much resource for a card that isn’t mine?” Sylus tsks, both his voice and expression coming across as… affronted? “Kitten, I’m actually hurt.”

Huh?

You haven’t heard that line from him before. Was there a recent update you weren’t aware of? The man in question then appears to look amused, from the way you’ve been rendered speechless by the unexpected dialogue.

All at once, you gasp when you realize what the new response means.

“That’s so smart,” you say giddily. You see Sylus cock his head to the side, synchronously quirking an eyebrow—expectant. “They actually added a feature that lets them know which memory I’ve upgraded last, and make you react to it. Oh, that’s so cool!”

If you weren’t too busy being excited over what you think is a new update from the game, you’d see the chagrined look on Sylus’ face. But when you glance back at him, all trace of the emotion is gone before you could notice anything different.

“Don’t worry, Crow Man. You’re still my favorite,” you assure him, making his mouth tick upwards in a semblance of a smile. He looks pleased all of the sudden, his demeanor shifting into something more relaxed.

Then a pout forms on your face. You crinkle your nose in frustration as you complain, “It’s just really hard to level your cards up at this point. It takes ages and a shit ton of energy just to level you up past seventy five.” Sighing, you add, kind of bitterly, “And I’m too broke to be spending money on growth packs.”

Checking the time on your phone, you see that you’ve already spent more than an hour on your self-imposed break time and you know that you ought to get back to work soon. With a groan, you pull yourself to sit upright, savoring the last few minutes of free time before you slave off for the rest of the night.

You’re about to clean up what’s left of dinner when you notice the oddly thoughtful look on Sylus’ face.

There’s a deep furrow in his brows as he brings a hand up to cover his mouth. He closes his eyes shut for a few seconds. He's never done that gesture before... Ugh, he looks really hot–

Suddenly, you see a flicker— then a weird, sort of graphic distortion happening in the background. Uh, what??

A beat; then a glitch on the screen. “Ah, shit.”

The game crashes.

You exhale loudly as the game’s interface goes back to the loading screen, tapping your thumb impatiently as the bar slowly loads to 15%... 50%..... 81%.......

“Maybe make sure to patch up first before releasing an update next time, jeez— Huh?”

For a quick second, nothing seems to be amiss. But then the first thing you see on the home screen is Sylus’ figure standing before you, wearing an expression one could only describe as a cat that ate the proverbial canary.

He speaks— and it’s another intro you haven’t heard him say, ever.

“You should’ve told me sooner, sweetie,” he almost coos the words out, making your eyes bug out in shock.

“Now, why don’t you go check your–” he pauses, and his mouth moves as if he’s rolling the word out, testing it. “Inventory?”

Sylus slides his gaze towards the upper left corner of the screen, a coy smirk still ever-present on his face.

There, you see something you haven’t noticed earlier: two notification badges. One on your mailbox, and another on the Hunter’s Info tab. Bewildered, you press on the mail icon first, despite the insistence for you to start with the latter.

You see a new message: [For You]

A small gift, to bridge our worlds closer. – S

Nothing is attached to it. You read it twice, perplexed.

“You’re quite the contradictorian, aren’t you?” Sylus tuts as soon as you return back to the home screen, his gaze boring into you even when he tilts his head sideways in mock exasperation. “Mmm, I suppose it doesn’t matter. Take all the time you need, sweetheart.”

Helplessly, you open your inventory next.

Your jaw drops.

“What. The fuck,” You whisper to yourself, voice wavering in disbelief at what you’re seeing, and the sheer amount of what you’re seeing. “This– this can’t be real.”

You see that all the materials you own, from the bottle of wishes to the ascension crystal boxes, have been multiplied a hundred times over.

And on top of that–

Ninety nine thousand red dias????

You cannot believe how this– this recent… update (or is it a bug? Infold sure isn’t this generous) didn't make the news. Even as someone as uninvolved as you are with the community and the game’s latest releases, something like this for sure would’ve made headlines on Twitter (X), at least. But you haven’t heard anything. Nada.

Holy shit.

You feel a little light-headed, both from incredulity and excitement. Needing a moment to calm yourself down, you exit the Inventory tab in a daze.

You stare at Sylus. He stares back at you with what looks to be mirth in his eyes.

Skeptically, you mutter, “did–did I get hacked or something?”

Anticipating another unexpected dialogue to prompt up, you wait for a full minute without saying anything else. And for a moment, the man in front of you looks indecisive, contemplative.

There’s something very odd, very… human in the way he’s looking at you. He looks as if– as if he’s—

His face falls back into a neutral expression. Not unlike how his idle animation usually looks.

…

….. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to initiate a conversation any time soon, so you hesitantly poke him on the nose.

“Even in the worst-case scenario, there’s no need to panic.”

You’ve heard that one before.

So he’s back to normal now. You temper the small disappointment that blooms in your gut.

Shaking your head slowly, you try to make sense of all the stuff that just happened, but a sharp bite on your ankle pulls you out of your reverie.

“Ow–!” The sight of your cat flopping near your feet reminds you of the time. More importantly, the backlogs waiting for you at your desk.

“Wait, shit– I gotta get back to work.” This… unbelievable stroke of good luck (?) is gonna have to take a backseat for now.

You grab the carton box and the half-empty bottle of sparkling peach as you stand up. Making quick work of throwing the container in the trash and gulping down the rest of your drink, you rush into your room and back in front of your PC.

Cracking your knuckles, you gingerly set your phone against the monitor. Setting the timer to one hour in Quality Time, knowing fully-well that you’re going to have to keep extending it until the wee hours of the morning – or until your battery dies, whichever comes first – you give Sylus one last look, letting out a long exhale before locking in.

“Just keep me company for the night, alright? I’ll figure out what’s going on once my shift’s over.”

It could just be your overactive imagination, but you swear you hear a quiet chuckle from the man polishing his gun in your peripheral.

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #sylus qin

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luveline · 6 months ago

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bombshell finds tickets to a russian movie thing sitting in spencer’s desk at work and they’re about to like run out (?) so she presents them to spencer and asks him on a date and pretends that she didn’t just pull them out of spencers desk in that bombshell way

You’re looking for gum. If Spencer were at his desk, you’d politely beg for a stick and he’d give it to you, but he’s not here, so you must search.

You sit in his seat, slinking down as he does with poor posture, your kitten heels hitting the spine of a book kept under the desk. Your dress’ skirt rises up your thighs, the fabric at your neck pulls, but you have bigger problems. You’re feeling the weird franticness of unspent energy and only a stick of gum is gonna fix you.

He has a drawer full of things, neatness traded for space. Blue and pink paper clips in an arrowhead shaped box. Push pins of all colours, their box more ordinary. He has a travel book on indigenous North American birds with stamps held between the pages, a plastic bottle cap, train stubs from Quantico to the station outside of his apartment and a bottle of ibuprofen missing half of its contents.

Your fingers dig around for the familiar shape of a packet of gum, hesitating thoughtfully against the thread of a thicker cardstock.

You pull a cream envelope from the desk and, perhaps wrongfully, unveil the contents: two tickets to see any Russian flick at the foreign language theatre free of charge (if you buy a large drink). They expire tonight.

You press them to your chest and spin in Spencer’s chair without any regard for whoever might see you slouching. Across the office with his hair out of his face and a smile bordering lackadaisical stands your favourite. He even has a pencil in hand. He likes to underline things in the books he reads for your benefit. It’s the pencil that decides your next move.

You stand up, brushing down your nice dress that he seems to like, a black cotton with thin pinstripes settling nicely just above your knees. You check your lipstick in the black reflection of his sleeping monitor, buzzing.

He’s watching you when you turn back. You hide the tickets behind your hip and begin a light walk to his side, the chug of the printer a constant hum you can feel in your shoes.

“What’s up?” he asks.

You tilt your head toward your shoulder ever so slightly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” He squints. “You’re acting strange.”

“Suspicious,” you correct.

“That, too.”

“How come you let me hold your hand?”

Spencer doesn’t hide his surprise at your question very well. His eyes turn deer in the headlights, then down to the printer. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“When we first met, you wouldn’t shake my hand. And that’s okay,” —your smile is loving in the hope that he finds your question as the curiosity it is and not an interrogation— “I’m just wondering what changed.”

“I was distracted.” He’s talking about the first time you took his hand, the two of you on the way to the office. “You stopped me from being late.”

“Right, but I should’ve asked and I didn’t. And now we hold hands all the time.” You take a half step back. “I’m not trying to embarrass you, I’m just wondering.”

“Nobody’s held my hand in a really long time. And you’re mostly clean.”

“Mostly!” you laugh, giving him a guilty smile. “I’m super clean, I just forget how gross door handles are sometimes.”

You have embarrassed him, in a way. It’s really not what you meant to do, not when you’re about to ask him on a date.

Ever since you started your official position at the BAU, you and Spencer have grown closer, but there’s a difference between flirting because he’s lovely and flirting because you want him to be your boyfriend. (Not that he knows what you want.) You shouldn’t have started with the hand holding thing.

“Spencer.”

“Yeah?”

“Will you go on a date with me?” You present him with the movie tickets. “Got these, they expire tonight…”

“Are those from my desk?” he asks, taking the tickets from you to look over closely.

“I’d love to go with you, unless you’re gonna take someone else, which is fine.” You embarrass yourself a little, even though you’re not, hoping it makes up for the hand-holding investigation. “Yeah, they’re from your desk. Sorry. I really wanted a stick of gum, my– my nervous energy is through the roof today.”

Spencer frowns at you again. “How come?” he asks softly.

“I don’t know. It just happens sometimes.”

And that’s nothing you’ve ever admitted to him. Your perfect mask is broken, and Spencer doesn’t look at you any differently. “Do you actually wanna go to the movies?” he asks.

“Only if I’m not stealing you away from somebody else.”

“There’s no one else.”

Spencer abruptly turns his attention to the printer, where he collects his copies and shuffles them into a straight, neat pile.

You recover quickly, though inside your heart is a stuttering mess. “I should hope not,” you say. “Okay. Awesome. I’ll bring hand sanitiser and you can hold my hand through the previews.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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interiorergonomics · 5 months ago

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dwaekkicidal · 7 months ago

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Sharing is Caring[1: 3racha]

˚ʚ3racha x Fem!readerɞ˚

ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: After finding what Stray Kids' closest female friend really does with their leader behind closed doors, Jisung and Changbin decide they want in too.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 6.1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, slight angst before the first divider? But it gets resolved like immediately, fluff, nicknames used: 'baby girl, bunny, jagi(ya), and baby,' ot8✗reader mentions but smut is written for 3racha✗reader, Chan✗reader action, Changbin✗reader action, some m✗m action(Chan✗Jisung mentions), fingering, squirting, exhibitionism & vouyerism, rough sex, (1½) pvssy slaps, hair pulling, overstimulation (?), readers a brat for 2 seconds, Channie is referred to as “Daddy” and Changbin as “Sir”, p in v, creampie & no protection (don't be silly wrap ur willy also pee after sex pls), blowjobs, a handjob, I think thats it?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: an audio I heard a few weeks ago inspired this... I actually have no clue how this came out of that audio but you’re welcome (or I'm sorry)

Sharing is Caring Masterlist

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ PSA: Sorry if you find this annoying, but I put so much yapping talking that I was only comfortable posting this with color-coded dialogues: If you hate it let me know so that I don’t do it again, but it kinda worked out so I kept it in instead of adding a million more words for nothing

Chris | Binnie | Hannie | You

You’re currently sitting in Stray Kids’ studio at the JYP building. Chris sits beside you in the other office chair at the desk, while Changbin and Han sit on the couch. Both staring holes into your heads as yours stare on the floor in embarrassment. They just walked in on you and Chris fucking in the studio, right in the very chair Chris was sitting in.

Speaking of, you see in the corner of your eye as he rubs his hands all over his face in frustration, his ears a very bright red. “Listen.. Normally we wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that in a public setting.. But I didn’t know you two were coming today and we got carried away..”

You glance up to see Changbin frown at the older boy, his eyes full of anger. You look over and check on Jisung, his eyes glossy. You furrow your eyebrows and lift your head fully. “Hannie..” You start, but immediately give up on your sentence when you see Changbin’s eye snap his eyes to you, the anger still prominent.

“Okay well… I don’t think that's the problem here… Do what you want, hyung. It’s your life..” Han starts, staring at you for a moment before continuing with a deep breath. “But you know how both of us feel about her. Hell. How the entire group feels about her. You have to see this from our point of view.”

Chan fixes his posture at the sentence and you look between the boys with pure confusion on your face. “Huh??”

“In my defense, I didn’t know how you guys felt until we were already messing around. We had already agreed on this arrangement months prior to the first person saying anything.”

“Arrangement?” Binnie says with the most attitude you’ve ever seen come out of him.

“We’re not dating.. We’re just…. friends with benefits. Sex with no extra emotional strings attached.” Chan sighs loudly, rubbing the back of his neck and continuing. “In all honesty, me and her talked about including you guys but we were afraid it would ruin things. Ruin the group as a whole.”

You start to feel frustrated, they're talking as if you’re not even in the room and when that's mixed with the ruined orgasm you just had, you can't help but get annoyed. “Hello?? I’m still here by the way. Can one of you tell me what the fuck is going on before I leave.” You narrow your eyes at the three of them and cross your arms. They’re caught off guard at your tone, you’ve never spoken to them in any tone outside of a sugary sweet one with pretty doe eyes. Even Changbin’s demeanor falters before he cracks his own neck. “Bunny. You haven’t noticed anything odd? How Hyunjin paints you every chance he gets? How Yongbok gives you all kinds of sweets and says that he ‘baked too much’? Not even the princess treatment that SEUNGMIN of all people gives you?”

You furrow your eyebrows at him before sputtering out, “W-Well yes, but I thought that was just normal behavior.”

Han lets out a tense laugh at that, when you turn to him he decides to continue for Changbin. “Jagiya, we don’t even do these things with each other… all of us are pretty in love with you. We have been for a long time to be honest. Though.. some of us…” he pauses before stealing a glance at the timid boy beside him. “Some of us fell faster and harder than the others. At the end of the day, you have all 8 of us wrapped around your finger.”

All the attitude and anger in your body is suddenly flushed out, replaced with confusion and surprise, “Wait..” When you think back to what Changbin said, the pieces start to click together. All 3 boys watch your reaction nervously, and Changbin lets out a slight sigh of relief when he sees the gears turning in your head. “She actually had no clue.”

“I tried to not blatantly say anything about it once I found out. But I honestly thought you knew about some of the members, baby girl?”

“I had no clue… I’m so sorry Binnie, Hannie..” You hear Han let out a sigh as your eyes watch Changbin’s, they stare into you less angrily but it makes the hurt more evident. You frown sadly at him and let your head hang, not sure what to do with this situation.

“It’s okay, Jagi. Now that I know you were oblivious about our feelings, I don’t think I’m as upset. More so at Channie-hyung for getting to you before us. But I’ll get over that feeling soon.. I don’t know about him though.”

The man in question’s eyes never leave your form, but he takes Han’s words to heart and takes a few deep breaths. “I don’t know. I’m quite hurt but Han is right. It’s honestly our own faults for not being clear with you.”

His words hang in the air for a while before you fix your posture and look over at Chris, meeting his eyes. He tilts his head at you, but you quickly turn to look between the other boys. “What's going on in your head, pretty?”

“Mm.. Well Channie did already spill the beans on what we spoke about.” You say, looking up at each boy before being met with confusion on each of their pretty faces. You clear your throat before continuing, “About… me being with all of you guys..” You pause once more to gauge their reactions, when you don’t see any negativity you finish your thought: “If you guys are okay with sharing, I don’t think I would mind dating all of you. At the end of the day I have been loyal to you guys anyways... So if everyone is okay with it, it could work.”

Chris’ head snaps to the couch to try and read their expressions. He can see Changbin thinking deeply about it and the faint blush on Han’s cheeks more or less gives him an answer. “Only if you guys are okay with it. I told you already, even before I knew about everybody’s feelings I was easing her into the idea of being with us all, whether that be through dating or her being our mutual friend with benefits.”

Han nods and looks over at Changbin, nervously watching his reaction as he mumbles out an “I’m okay with it.. Only if Changbin-hyung is too.” At the mention of his name, Changbin blinks multiple times to bring himself back down to earth. Once he realizes the outcome of this is in his hands, he gulps and clears his throat. “I… I don’t know..”

“If you need time to think about it, I’ll give you as much time as you need. In the meantime, Chris and I will stop everything we do and we’ll go based on what you guys are okay with.” Changbin furrows his eyebrows and looks at his hyung, who nods in agreement with your promise. “I told you, we spoke about this before. Many times actually. If enough of you weren’t okay with it, we agreed to cut things off completely for the sake of our friendships being more important.”

Changbin slowly nods, “I… I need some time to think about it.” You and Chris nod before meeting each other’s eyes for a moment. “Okay well, we should head home then. The song can wait, we’ve all had a long night.”

Everyone silently agrees and one by one the studio empties. You were the last to leave, but you quickly caught up to Changbin, wanting to have a 1 on 1 chat with him. “Binnie. I really am sorry. If I had known earlier then I wouldn’t have let us do this for so long without involving you guys. I feel horrible.”

He smiles softly at you, placing a hand on your head and massaging your scalp with his fingertips. “I know, Bunny. I’m not really mad anymore, I just don’t know if I can handle sharing you. Jisung and I spoke about it a few times but we thought it wasn’t even on the table.”

You nod and shuffle on your feet. He thinks for a moment before looking at you nervously, “Can you answer a question I have truthfully?” When you nod eagerly he continues, “...If you would date us all, as in all 8 of us.. Could you actually see yourself loving us all equally?”

You bite your lip before laughing nervously, “That’s honestly not even a question to me… I already love you all equally. I wasn’t lying when I said I had been loyal to you guys ‘anyways’. I turned down so many idols and random people on the street because I knew I had you guys. I knew how much I loved you all and I knew wasting time with these people to get over my feelings wouldn’t be worth it. So I sat patiently and waited to see how things would go.”

He lets out a breath that he didn't realize he was holding, letting out a light laugh of relief. “Can I hug you, Bunny?”

“Please.” He smiles and pulls you into his arms, the two of you stay in the embrace until Changbin gets a call from Chan, telling him that the taxi is outside and they’re waiting for him. You say your goodbyes and go your separate ways.

Now we wait..

A few days pass as normal, and you almost forget about what happened in the studio. When you’re lounging on the couch scrolling through a streaming site, you hear your phone ding a few times and it makes your stomach drop. You drop the remote immediately and in seconds your phone is unlocked with your text messages open.

Your hand slaps over your mouth and you squeal, not being able to contain your excitement, and you spend the next few days excitedly preparing yourself for Friday night.

When the night comes, you walk into their dorm as if it was any other day. When you meet the eyes of the men sitting at the dining table, you hesitate. All three sets of eyes look up at you, the older boys hold soft smiles while the youngest is biting his lip with red cheeks.

After some time of the awkwardness in the air fading, the four of you talk boundaries. In summary, you all agreed on:

Changbin only wants to fuck you, Chan and Jisung are open to anybody but mainly want you, and you want all 3 of them.

Specific kinks were talked about, but everyone agreed on rougher play for the night, just nothing too extreme yet. Specifically yes to spanks, rough fucking, choking, and hair pulling.

Chris closes it out with a few statements: “If, at any point, you aren’t sure to keep going, we use the traffic light system. Just ask her what her color is and she’ll respond with ‘red’ for stop, ‘yellow’ for slow down, and ‘green’ for keep going. And aftercare is a MUST. You don’t give her aftercare, you don’t get her at all.” When the other men agree, he leads you guys to the dining room where the coffee table is already moved to the side.

Before you know it, you’re sitting on their dorm’s couch, shyly playing with the strings on your sweatpants. All 3 men are standing between you and the tv, thanking every god they know that Hyunjin is out of the country for the week. Chan warily looks over his members faces, looking for any sign of hesitation. Instead he’s met with both basically eye-fucking you and Jisung already hard as a rock through his jeans. He laughs to himself quietly before looking over at you, initially looking for an unsure reaction from you as well. But when he watches your eyes jump between the other 2 and you bite your lip, he takes a breath before speaking.

“Since this would be both of your first times with her, I’ll show you all the good spots and how to play with her properly.” You roll your eyes and frown up at him from your spot on the couch. He gives you an amused smile and you watch from the corner of your eye as Changbin grabs a chair from the dining room, placing it in front of the tv so that it faces the couch. Chris swiftly pulls you to your feet before taking a seat on the chair. He pulls you into his lap and makes you face the other 2 men, who are now seated on the couch patiently waiting for the scene in front of them to unfold.

“You ready, baby?” He asked into your neck, his thick lips already placing wet kisses and his hands already pulling at the elastic of your sweats. You make a scene to hold eye contact with both men on the couch before responding to the one below you, “Yes, Daddy.” When Changbin’s eyes widen before he closes them and lays his head back, you giggle to yourself and move your eyes over to Jisung. You hear him groan and class a hand over his mouth, and when he notices your eyes are staring into his wide boba ones you smile innocently and tilt your head at him.

By the time both men recover, Chris is already pulling your sweatpants and underwear from your ankles, then moving his hands to the base of your crop top. He finally breaks away from your neck to pull it off, unintentionally showing off the red marks all over your neck to the couch. As the shirt gets pulled above your head, you hear a gasp from the couch and Chris’ voice against your ear. “And no bra? Baby.. you’re gonna kill them haha..”

You bite your lip and smile before teasing, “If they let themselves die this easily then you can have me all to yourself again.” You almost miss the way Changbin’s eyes narrow with how focused you are on Jisung’s growing pout. You hear Jisung let out a “Hey..” before you laugh and stick your tongue out at both boys. Immediately after, you feel your legs get hooked over Chris’ wide stance.

He teases you by softly rubbing his hands against your inner thighs, nipping at your neck and ear as he does so. His left hand slowly trails up your stomach until he meets your chest and starts toying with your nipples. The hand still on your thigh trails up higher and higher until you feel him spreading your folds with his index and ring finger, using his middle finger to slide against your clit and down to your hole. You slump against him when you feel him slide two fingers in you, his thumb replacing his middle finger on your clit. You faintly hear Chris say something to the other boys about where they should try to angle their fingers. When he angles his hands the way he describes, it rips a desperate moan from your throat and your legs tighten against his.

Both boys on the couch adjust themselves in their pants at the sight of you spread so widely in front of them, Han nodding enthusiastically with each sentence that comes out of Chris’ mouth. With the fast pace his fingers set, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build up.

You feel yourself getting close and Chris catches on very fast. He pulls his fingers away and lands a smack to your inner thigh before grabbing your chin and raising an eyebrow at you. “Did I say you could come yet? You didn’t even ask permission.” You almost miss Jisung’s moan at the action, but quickly respond with a, “N-No, Daddy. I’m sorry Daddy.”

He tsks at you before softly running his hands along your thighs again, “Just because I’m showing the boys how to play with you doesn’t mean that our rules aren’t in place. Don’t be a bad girl and make me punish you in front of them already.”

“Yes, Daddy” you whine out as you nod feverishly, your orgasm fading away slowly. He hums before returning his hand to your cunt, playing with your folds as he gets lost in thought for a moment. You sigh and lean your head into his neck once releases your chin.

You almost say something about the lack of stimulation when Chris suddenly pushes you on your feet, keeping a hand on the small of your back as he quickly stands. He sits you on the chair but pulls you down so your ass is hanging off the chair, legs folded into each other as he puts you on display towards the couch. You feel butterflies in your stomach, remembering just exactly what Chris made you do the last time you both were in this position.

You shiver as his fingers softly caress your folds, he looks down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Once he realizes that you knew what his plans were, he bites his lip and smirks down at you. When your lips open to say something, he suddenly returns the 2 fingers inside your hole to prevent words from forming. You guys hold eye contact for a moment, but once his fingers dig into your gummy spot roughly, your mouth opens in a gasp and your eyebrows raise. Your eyes threaten to close as you watch him meanly mimic your facial expression and rub against the spot harder.

Your legs already start to shake and you throw your head back against the chair with a whimper, closing your eyes when the stimulation is a little too much. A firm grip in your hair pulls your face to meet his, he places a gentle kiss to your lips before adding a third finger. He ruts them into your soppy cunt over and over again until you hear him laugh when your eyes slam shut again. You’re sure both boys can hear the wet noises coming from between your legs. You wish you could see their faces, but at this point you figure Chris is trying to put on a show for them so you don’t complain.

“F-Fuck!!! Daddyyy!! I-I can’t..” You cry out, one of your hands meets his and your nails dig into his wrist as your thighs clamp shut. He pulls his fingers out and pins both your hands against the top of the chair with his spare hand. He lands a slap on your cunt and doesn’t give you time to react before he slams three fingers back in and resumes his bullying pace.

He coos at you, pressing a kiss into your calf, “You can, baby girl…” He pauses before positioning his hand so that his palm could bully against your clit with the thrusts. His tone is much darker when he continues, “I won’t stop until you do. So you better give them a pretty view, yea?” You gush more around his fingers as and when you clench harshly, he leans down to push his lips against yours.

At this point, Han has caught on to what Chris is trying to do, and he finally can’t stand the tightness in his jeans so he removes them. He quickly pushes his boxers down and can’t stop himself from fisting his cock at the sight of your cunt and ass on display for them, your wet cunt dripping down your ass as Chris continues his pace. Changbin on the other hand, isn’t fully sure what is going on. But that doesn’t stop him from palming his bulge, biting into the pointer finger on his other hand to keep quiet.

The sounds coming from you somehow get louder and you pant into Chris’ mouth, moaning against his lips as you feel the knot snap in your stomach. Suddenly you squirt all over his arm, squealing into the kiss as Chris rides your high. He fingers into you roughly before giving you a second to squirt more, then forcing more out of you. He repeats this until you pull away from his lips and gasp desperately for air, and he finally slows his hand to almost a complete stop, letting you breathe. He softly slaps your cunt as he pulls away from you fully to admire the mess you made.

“I told you, baby girl.” He laughs, ghosting his hand over your inner thigh as he watches you glisten. He pulls away from you completely, pulling his shirt off in one go and using it to wipe your thighs down and throwing it onto the puddle you made on the floor. He pulls you back to your feet, and holds you up with both hands as your legs shake aggressively, before sitting back down and resuming the earlier position: you on his lap.

He showers your neck and your cheek in kisses as your legs stay glued shut, his thighs making sure of that as they stay against yours. One of his hands holds you against him while the other caresses your hip affectionately. He knows you’re not in this plane of existence from how quiet you are, so he tries his best to ground you with as much physical touch that he can offer.

After a short while, your soul finally returns to your body. You mumble something incoherent and he takes that as a sign that you’re still there. He giggles into your neck, trailing his kisses down to your shoulder. You feel his arms tighten around you before he’s whispering against your skin, “You alright, baby? What’s your color?”

You sigh into his hold and whisper back a “Yellow.. Just give me a minute.”

Once you deem yourself ready, you let him know. He reluctantly loosens his hold on you and clears his throat, placing a final kiss on your shoulder before looking up. “Now that she’s ready for you both.. who wants to play first?” Chris asks as he eyes dart between the boys you completely forgot about. The two in question glance at each other quickly before wordlessly deciding to keep quiet and let Chris choose. Chris nods in understanding before glancing over at the youngest and watching the way he’s slowly fisting his cock as he waits for the next move. Chris very quickly thinks back to the boundaries everybody set earlier and he smirks against your shoulder. He whispers something in your ear, just low enough so neither of the other men can hear it.

But when you smile and slide off Chris' lap, softly crawling towards Changbin on all fours, both boys on the couch suddenly fix their posture. Han almost whines at the thought of Changbin getting you first until he watches the oldest stand up and saunteer towards him. He gulps and looks up at the man, biting his lip when Chris leans down and grabs his chin to hold eye contact. “You still okay with us playing a little bit, Hannie?” Not fully trusting his voice, Jisung nods eagerly and allows Chris to take control, "Please..."

While the two boys to your right get lost in each other, you sit at Changbin’s feet and look up at him with puppy dog eyes. You even go as far as to tilt your head and rest your cheek against his knee. “Hi Binnie~” You whisper out, “Can you play with me? Pleasee?”

He curses under his breath and nods, “Y-Yeah.. Yeah we can play, Bunny.” You smile in response and bite your lip, undoing his jeans before pulling them off his legs. He pulls his shirt off as you leave soft kisses up his thighs. He shudders the closer to his crotch that you get, and breathes harshly when you place a kiss to his dick through his boxers. He sighs when you back away and pull his underwear down just enough so that his dick slaps against his tummy. You pause for a second to admire his width. He’s so hard and his tip has a mean red tint; you’re almost afraid of taking him.

Suddenly the man above you laughs and pulls you up onto his lap, letting his dick rest between you two. He quickly pulls you into a kiss, running his hands up and down your sides softly. Your own hands are running up and down his biceps and squeezing, finally relishing in the feeling of his muscles against your hands. When a hand of his slides down to your ass to squeeze, you smile into the kiss and angle your head so that you are making out even deeper. It’s very short lived however, because the hand that was squeezing your ass pulls back and lands a slap to your cheek.

You jump in against him and pull away from his lips, frowning at him. He laughs at you before landing another to your other cheek. “Those are for the little comment you made earlier about Chan getting you to himself after this.” You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest and snapping back, “Well soooomebody doesn’t know how to take a joke.” Changbin’s mouth opens slightly and his eyes narrow dangerously at you. If it wasn’t for the fire in your abdomen that grew from his stare, you would have been terrified and apologized right away.

You quickly think that should have been the case when a hand shoots forward and clamps around your neck, squeezing tightly right off the bat. You let out a gargled noise as his other hand lands 2 harsh slaps to your ass cheeks, massaging against them right after. “I’m sorry... What was that?”

Jisung and Chris pull a few inches away from each other at the sound. Jisung’s hips buck up into Chris’ hand and he lets out a pathetic whine at the sight of your ass cheeks already turning a darker red. The man above him lets out an exasperated laugh before saying “Oh yeah, I should’ve warned you two that she can be a stupid brat sometimes. I would say I’d teach you how to deal with it, but it seems like you got it under control already. You know what to do, baby. Be a good girl for Binnie, or else I'll handle you myself.” Changbin steals a confused glance at his hyung before returning his gaze to you, loosening his grip on your neck to give you more breathing room. He watches your eyes meet Chan's and you gulp deeply before wresting your hands on his chest.

“‘M sorry Binnie. I’ll be good now I promise.” His hand completely loosens the grip on your neck but stays resting against your throat as Chris speaks up again. “Not ‘Binnie’ baby.” Your eyes meet Chris’ again and he smiles at you teasingly, his hands still stroking Jisung at a slow pace that has the boy whining into his hand. You bite your lip at the sight of Jisung looking fucked out already and turn back to Changbin and retry, “I’m sorry sir. I’ll behave now.” You watch Changbin swallow thickly before leaning his head sideways and letting out a curse.

“Atta girl, baby.” Chris says, before turning back to the squirming boy below him.

Changbin quickly mutters an ‘Up’ before you climb out of his lap to stand in front of him. He quickly swaps spots with you, making you sit on the couch as he stands above you, kneeling against the cough to ground himself. He strokes himself a few times, not bothering to prepare you any more than Chan did already. He pulls your legs up and holds them near your chest, and then he finally sinks himself into you. He keeps his eyes on your face the whole time, mainly watching for possible comfort changes in your expression. But when your jaw drops at the stretch and you take over his hold on your legs, he can’t help himself from staring for other reasons. While you’re busy hugging your legs into yourself, he trails a hand to your mouth and positions his thumb to press down on your tongue. With every inch of his duck entering you, you swear you lose another piece of your mind. And after what feels like forever, his hips finally meet the backs of your thighs

He lets out a shaky sigh and lightly thrusts into you, testing the waters before pulling out farther and setting a calm pace. For a while, he softly thrusts into you, just savoring the feeling and sight of your tight cunt around his dick. It’s not until you let out a whine that his eyes return to your face. His hips stutter and he watches in awe as he pulls his thumb from your drooly mouth. While that thumb moves down to draw circles onto your clit, you look up at him pleadingly before begging so sweetly. “Please, Sir. Please I promised I’d be good. Just fuck me hard, please please please.”

From the other side of the couch, Chris’ ears perk up at the sound of your begging. He chuckles breathlessly and it takes everything in him to keep his eyes on the pretty boy who’s on his knees below him. “F-Fuck. Bin I usually have to overstimulate her for her to beg like that. You must’ve fucked her stupid already.”

Changbin’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the sentence and he starts up a rough pace, pounding into you fast before responding, “Y-Yeah? You think so?”

You throw your head into the couch at the new rhythm, nails digging into your legs at the stimulation. After squirting like that earlier, you’re not sure you can last very long and that’s made even more true by the sloppy presses you feel on your clit. Not long after this pace was set, you feel yourself rapidly approaching your high.

You manage out a: “Binnie- S-Sir, can I cum please.. I want you to cum inside… I’ve b-been good, right?” and he groans in response, nodding his head and leaning into you, his fingers never leaving your cunt and his pace never faltering. “Yeah, baby. Don’t worry, Binnie’s got you.” His body weight on your legs gives you an uncomfortable stretch, but when his lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss, you can’t find it in you to complain. Almost immediately after that, his spare hand leaves a slap to your ass, and you cum on impact. Your lips detach from his as you let out desperate wails, trying to take deep breaths while he slows his pace to make slower but deeper thrusts into you. His gaze meets your teary eyes before he dips to your neck, biting and sucking marks onto the skin. He follows suit not long after, groaning and biting harder subconsciously as he rides out his high.

You lay against each other, catching your breaths before you let out a pained whine. “Binnieee… my legs..” His mind is still foggy from that strong of an orgasm, so it takes him a second to pull away. Once he does, he softly rests your legs against the couch and massages the muscles, already knowing which ones would be hurting. He watches your mixtures of cum ooze out of your cunt, and onto the couch. He would normally freak out at such a viscous substance getting the couch dirty, but his zips his mouth shut and watches in awe for a moment. You don’t fully notice when he walks away due to getting distracted by the other end of the couch.

Chris let out a few gasps that turn to groans, signaling that he’s dangerously close. You quickly turn your head to watch as Jisung deep throats him all the way, even gagging a few times. You whine out something along the lines of, “That’s so hot..” but it meets none of their ears as Jisung’s nails rake down Chris’ thighs, his hips buckling as he cums hard. He throws his head back and holds a firm grip on Jisung’s permed hair as he thrusts softly into his mouth, quickly angling his head back towards the boy to watch him swallow around his length. Slowly the grip on the younger’s hair loosens, and you and Chris watch the boy on the floor with lidded eyes. Jisung hollows his cheeks and slowly pulls off the eldest’s dick, he matches the older’s gaze and shows off the contents on his tongue before making a show of swallowing it, showing his empty tongue after. Chris throws a hand over his eyes and whines, resting his head against the back cushion as you sit there and laugh. You and Jisung meet each other’s eyes before you wink at the boy, blowing him a kiss with a fucked out smile on your face.

By now Changbin is returning to the living room with a warm cloth, wiping you down gently before throwing it onto the pile of your clothes. Chris disappears to his room to grab shirts of his for you and Jisung while Changbin throws the scattered clothes of yours into his own hamper, and Jisung’s into his hamper. While the two eldest members run around cleaning, and preparing blankets and snacks for a cuddle session, you and Jisung embrace each other on the couch. You rest your head against his shoulder as your breaths even out. You could fall asleep at this point, but you’re quickly distracted by the boy’s bulge in his underwear.

“Hannie… you’re still hard?” You laugh. His cheeks and ears turn red before he laughs too. “Yeah… I came in the beginning, but watching you and Changbin-hyung while watching Channie-hyung come undone got me hard again. It was all just too hot..” You laugh into his shoulder but trail one of your hands to the bulge, trailing a featherlight touch that has the boy’s thighs clamping together. “Can I help you then, Hannie? Me and you didn’t get to play. I can’t go another round but I’ll happily suck you off.”

You hear a shaky breath as his hips buck against your hand. “Fuck,, Yes please, baby.” Giggling, you drop down to your knees for a 2nd time tonight, pulling his boxers down just enough to free his cock. You take it in your hands and pump it, placing teasing kisses up and down his shaft. You smirk against him when you feel his hand slip into your hair, grabbing a tight but not painful grip as a warning to stop teasing. You hum and lick a long stripe until you reach his tip, placing a final kiss there before you take him all the way to the hilt. The grip in your hair tightens as you hum and hold your spot against his pubic bone, some of the hair there tickling your nose. You hollow your cheeks and swallow around him a few times before pulling away, stroking him while you rasp out, “You wanna fuck my mouth baby?"

You swear his eyes sparkle as he nods enthusiastically. His hands quickly move to rest against the back of your head, “Hit my thigh a few times if you need a break, ok?” You nod and smile up at him, happy that he still genuinely cares about your well being. Your smile fades as he moves your head against him, slowly fucking your mouth against his dick as he lets out a sigh. You hollow out your cheeks and feel the grip on your head get harder. He starts fucking himself into your throat, using all his will power to not do it as rough as he wanted to, ‘We can save that for another day’ he argues to himself. It doesn’t take long for him to reach his high, his thighs shaking as memories of what happened less than 10 minutes ago resurface to his mind.

He goes to pull you away as he cums, but you swat his hands away and take matters into your own hands, literally. One of your hands trails up his stomach, your nails ghosting around his chest as your other hand reaches up to fondle his balls. It’s all so sudden and he chokes on his own drool when he tries to warn you that he’s cumming, but regardless you swallow every last drop. Once his hips relax back into the couch, you pull back so that only the tip is in your mouth, sucking hard to get every last drop and he lets out the whiniest cry you’ve ever heard.

As the older boys return with blankets and snacks, you and Jisung pull away from each other. Eventually everybody is settled and a movie is chosen, the four of you cuddle up to each other and relax. Han is laying with his head against your chest when he suddenly lets out a laugh that startles your sleepy form. The three of you look down at him with different confused expressions before he chuckles to himself again.

“The others are missing out sooo bad.”

#sian’s writing #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #skz smut #skz imagines #3racha x reader #3racha smut #changbin x reader #changbin smut #chan x reader #chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut

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