#no way he can keep a low profile again

[tanglepelt]

Dp x dc short idea 90

Danny befriends a bat. For some reason he ends up staying the night at the manor. The one with an intense security system.

Danny leaves in the middle of the night. No alarms go off. The videos only pick up him leaving the room. In the morning they just find a sticky note on the bed saying he had to leave.

[joejhang]

andrew is so real for thinking neil is a hallucination cos now that we have outsider pov on him it's actually insane that he's a real person. like this is neil josten: he's the prettiest boy you've ever met. he's the runaway son of a serial killer. he has a million dollars but is afraid of spending money. he folds his clothes a specific way so he can tell when someone's gone through his stuff. he keeps a stalker's journal on the two greatest exy players of all time. he wears coloured contacts and they're brown. he paid a busboy $100 to knock him out cold. he insulted a celebrity athlete on live tv after trying to keep a low profile. he says he's trying to stay alive while running towards death like it's a race. he mouths off to the mafia. he respects your boundaries and is the first person ever to take you at face value and not consider you an out of control psychopath. he orders hits on your abusers. he has the most electric blue eyes you've ever seen. he looks great in clubbing clothes but dresses like he's homeless. he insults someone for their "intricate and endless daddy issues" while his father is a convicted mobster and serial killer. he didn't give a fuck when his teammate was killed. everyone seems to like him even though it's clear he's hiding a million secrets. he doesn't catch on to the many many hints you're giving him. he calls you out not for being a danger to others but for being a danger to yourself. he thinks you should be protected as well as trusting you to protect him (and you think, how can someone be a victim and a protector?). he doesn't give a flying fuck what literally anyone thinks about him. he comes back from being waterboarded and tortured and abused for weeks (to protect you) and is still as feisty and bitchy as before. except now he's a redhead and has many more scars. he is possibly the first person to ever make the active decision to protect you. he's willing to put himself in harm's way again and again and again so he won't lose you. he always has a cigarette but he never smokes. he says "you're not actually a sociopath are you?" and "the next time someone calls you soulless i might have to fight them". even though he's messy and a little oblivious he's sees you. he might be the only person to ever want you off your drugs. he wants to see you lose control, is aware that you're not out of control, you're actually so controlled and restrained all of the time and he wants to see you feel something, he wants you to be angry, be angry at him. he riles you up on purpose to see you show emotion, feel something. he's a runner and yet he's still possibly the bravest person you've ever met. he gets kidnapped and comes back even more bruised and battered than before and he's still a mouthy little shit who bitches at the press and cuts deals with the yakuza. he's most of the reason why the worst team in the nation ends up winning championships. he shoves a guy clean off his feet because they body checked you. he punched celebrity athlete riko moriyama in public, for you. he threatens him, for you. he's almost killed on live tv. he mouths off to the fbi. he watches the (second) best exy player in the world get shot. he also watches his father, notorious serial killer and gangster, get shot in front of him. and he laughs. he smiles. he kisses you and is never gonna run again and he's free and he wants to be with you, he wants you.

[syoddeye]

you scurry into the bookshop from the cold, the door slamming shut behind you with the breeze.

the warmth inside feels like a slap after the bitter chill, and your glasses immediately fog over, clouding your vision in a steamy blur. you pause, fumbling with your mittens, distracted by your own breath bouncing back at you behind your scarf, making it worse. you step forward without thinking.

and immediately regret it. your shoulder slams into something hard and solid, like a wall. except the wall shifts, and a deep voice hisses down at you.

“fuckin’—we in a rush? watch where you’re—”

“sorry!” you blurt out, flinching back.

the voice halts. just stops, snipped mid-sentence. you’re scrabbling to pull your mittens off now, fingers clumsy and frantic. the fog persists, blinding, smothering, your breath quickening and making the condensation worse.

“shit, shit, sorry—”

then a hand settles on your shoulder.

a low, rasping hehehe rattles from above. “can’t see a thing, can ya? ‘old still.”

you freeze, mittens half-off, mouth hanging open in protest as something dark moves toward your face.

“uh, what are you—oh, you don’t have to…”

a thumb drags black fabric gently over one of the lenses. the fog clears in a small oval, revealing part of the stranger’s face, his deep brown eyes. you try to crane your neck for a better look, but the hand on your shoulder shifts to your chin, steadying it.

“keep still.”

your mouth shuts and your pulse stutters. his thumb and forefinger pinch just firmly enough to hold your head in place. he clears the second lens, and when he withdraws the fabric, you finally see him.

he wears a thick, cloth mask, the loops disappearing beneath the edges of a matching hat. though most of his face is hidden, you notice the faint scar cutting across the end of one blond eyebrow, a few faded freckles dusting his forehead. the scarf around his neck hangs loose, one end caught in his hand, which he drops once he seems satisfied with his work.

“there,” he says, leaning back a fraction to examine you. his eyes crinkle at the edges, amused. he must be smiling. “look at those eyes.”

you blink up at him, and you’re hyper-aware of your own breathing. careful not to exhale too hard, in case you fog everything up again.

“thanks.”

his thumb, still resting lightly on your chin, moves in a small, absent circle. he hums, low in his throat, and then lets go.

“of course, sweet’eart.”

for a second, you just stand there. five seconds, maybe. you’re the one who breaks the silence by awkwardly stepping away.

“okay, yep, thanks again.” you say, words knocking into each other like you knocked into him.

you retreat further into the shop, yanking at your mittens until they’re off and stuffed into your pockets. your scarf is next, practically ripped from your neck, the heat of your own embarrassment prickling at your skin all over.

what just happened? should you have said something? made a point of how weird that was? because it was weird. right?

you circle the horror section three times before your heart rate evens out, but even then, you’re not really seeing the shelves. the titles run together, and your mind drifts back to him—his hand on your chin, the soft way he said sweetheart.

your glasses are clear, but you’re stuck in a haze.

simon was just supposed to kill time, having arrived arrived early to meet price. except now he’s going to be late, for the first time in ages, to a meeting with his captain.

it’s difficult to hide in a shop where he’s taller than most of the shelves, but he’s careful. doesn’t take much of an effort anyway, she’s preoccupied by the shelves of the horror section. not his preference, but he likes the twist. likes the view, too. the profile of her face, her hair, the way her jeans fit snugly over her arse.

smitten. that’s the word, he thinks. charmed, maybe. pretty, sweet four-eyes all dressed up in knitwear. she probably made them herself. seems the type. he wonders, absurdly, if she’d make him something. a sweater, maybe. something that actually fits his shoulders.

then she suddenly moved, pulling out her phone, and he buries his face in the cookbook he’s been pretending to read. thai recipes, apparently. he flips a page, wondering if she likes thai food. he could try making it.

his phone buzzes and for a second, one irrational second, he thinks it’s her. like she’s sent a message telepathically from across the shop. but no. it’s price, blunt as ever, asking where the fuck he is.

he looks up again, and she’s gone. just like that. his stomach drops, and he straightens instinctively, scanning the aisles. he can’t help it, he turns—

“so…you like thai food?”

he looks down and finds her at the next shelf over, smiling shyly. something about it. it slips through his ribs and gets comfortable.

[hysteria-things]

MATT'S STREAM

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and chris’ relationship isn’t out to the public just yet. when he’s on stream with matt, you tease him.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, teasing, dry humping, cock warming, degradation if you squint, p in v, semi-public (?)

ASSUME YOU'RE ON THE PILL!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,521

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hiii i’m excited for this. let’s see how this goes :)

chris sits at his desk, spam clicking and smashing buttons on his keyboard. he talks to his brothers in his headset.

matt’s streaming on twitch right now, meaning that thousands of fans are watching the three of them play fortnite. you’ve been with chris for a few months, yet the fans have no idea. you both collectively agreed to keep your relationship out of the public eye.

hence why you are seated next to him out of frame, watching the stream go down. your eyes scan to his side profile. his brows furrow in concentration, his tongue sticking out as he focuses on the computer screen. you hear the boys scream in his headset, and he slams his hands onto his lap.

“damn.” he grunts out, glancing over at you for a moment and smiling.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” he says into the mic before muting it and taking off his headset. he turns his face cam off and goes into the bathroom to do his business.

he comes out beats later, sitting back in the gaming chair, wiggling to get comfortable. you get up, which gains his attention. ���you doing okay?” he asks.

“yeah. just need to stretch.”

before he could unmute his mic and turn the cam back on, you push the chair back slightly to have enough space to straddle his lap. he wraps his arms around your waist and welcomes you closer, kissing your collarbone. “they’re going to think i’m shitting.” he says jokingly.

your arms snake around his neck and you lean back to look at him. “say your camera broke.”

he smirks and puts back on his headset. “i’m back.” he starts. “for some reason, my camera is acting weird.”

“it’s all good. as long as we can still hear you.” matt’s voice replies.

the thin fabric you call panties rubs against his bulge through his red plaid pajama pants. you have a shirt on, one of chris’s FRESH LOVE t-shirts that covers you enough to look like a nightgown. a sensation tingles between your legs, and you start to move your hips slowly.

you hear chris groan, pressing a button on his keyboard. “what are you doing?” he asks sternly.

“i need to get comfortable.” you tease, rocking your hips harder. he opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and clicks unmute again.

you rest your head in the crook of his neck and continue to rock your hips, feeling him grow beneath you. he still talks to his brothers normally, but his performance on the game doesn’t look good.

“what the fuck is up with you, chris?” nick questions into the headphones.

“sorry,” he mumbles.

your hands find their way to the back of his neck and tug at his hair lightly. you breathe heavily to not make any noise since his mic is right next to your head. you don’t even notice your hips rutting and body tensing when you feel your release soak your underwear.

you exhale shakily, lifting your body and looking at the mess you made. there’s a wet stain on his pants on top of his hard-on. you don’t even have to look to know your underwear is ruined.

chris looks at you confused, before following your gaze. you go to get up but he grabs your hips and places you back to where you’re hovering over him. he unties his pants and pulls them down along with his boxers. he moves the mic away from his mouth, leaning toward your ear.

“don’t move or make a fucking sound,” he warns in a low tone you could barely hear.

he pushes your panties to the side and guides you down onto his cock, fighting off the hissing noise trying to escape your lips as he stretches you out tenderly and slowly. you and chris started having sex not long ago, but even after a few days without it, you had to readjust again.

this, however, is a first.

you guys never tried cock warming before. you felt so nervous. so excited. so full.

after multiple rounds of fortnite that felt like it lasted hours, your brain felt fuzzy despite not even doing anything. every time he talked, laughed, or celebrated a victory or loss, he’d thrust deep inside of you. and it drove you nuts.

you hear commotion on the other end of the headset. “fuck!” chris screams, jolting his hips further into you than at any other time. your eyes roll ever so slightly, mouth agape as your bottom lip grazes over his bare shoulder. it’s too late to take back the moan that came out of you.

chris’ hands make their way to your ass and squeeze hard, setting a reminder.

be quiet. right.

your patience becomes thinner and thinner, since it’s already been about thirty minutes. too desperate, you start to grind against him.

before he can do or say anything, you grab his mic and fist your hand over it so nobody can hear.

“please let me ride you. i promise i’ll be quiet.” you beg.

“so needy.” he sighs, taking your hand off of the mic and returning to the game.

rutting your hips forward, you start bouncing, your clit swollen from sitting still for so long without doing anything about it. you don’t know, but you could’ve sworn you heard chris groan.

too busy focusing to try to not make a sound by biting your lip, you hear sentences being scattered around from the boys.

“i don’t know, man.”

“this game sucks!”

“is your camera working yet?”

“no, sorry!”

little do they know, here you are, fucking yourself on your boyfriend’s dick like a bitch in heat.

you nuzzle your head in his neck and kiss a spot before biting down to stifle your pathetic sounds. chris hisses at the sudden contact and misses a kill, the other person killing him instead, costing them to lose.

“for fuck sake. chris, are you sure you’re okay?” matt asks in annoyance.

the tip of his cock brushes against your g-spot unexpectedly, forcing a whine out of you. “actually.” chris starts. “i don’t feel good, to be honest. i might log off for tonight.”

he quickly ends the discord call and shuts down his computer, stopping your movements. you look at him with glassy eyes, a frown portraying your face. he runs a finger up your spine before gripping onto your hair and yanking it, making you whimper. “first, you ruin my pants.”

he thrusts himself up into you, taking you by surprise with a gasp.

“then, you tease me.”

another thrust.

“now, you can’t follow simple fucking instructions.”

again.

a broken moan comes out of you, chris slapping your ass. “need me to fuck you so bad you can’t even wait two hours. instead, you get off by fucking yourself on my dick like your life depends on it. so pathetic.”

you whine of embarrassment, yet you don’t want this to stop.

“please.” you breathe out. “i’m sorry. please fuck me.”

with that, chris grabs your thigh with his free hand and starts plunging into you from below. his grip is still tight on your hair. you let out breathy moans left and right since each thrust takes the air out of your lungs. your eyes start prickling with tears from all of the built-up pleasure. “oh my— fucking— jesus— god.”

chris chuckles at your failed attempt to form a sentence. your moans transition into high-pitched squeals when he hits the angle that makes a knot form in your stomach. he releases his grip from your hair and moves it to your jaw, his hand that was on your thigh coming up to your mouth. he shoves in his middle and ring finger for you to suck on.

god, this felt good, and boy was it hot.

drool starts dribbling down your chin as you moan around his fingers and your eyes roll back. chris twitches inside you causing him to groan and take out his fingers, but your mouth still hangs open as unholy sounds come out of it. he releases your jaw and cups your ass with both hands.

“holy shit.” you whine. “i’m gonna cum.”

“let go, y/n. fuck you’re doing so good for me.”

because you certainly don’t have to be told twice, your whole body trembles and you fall forward. your hands cup the sides of his neck.

“i love you.” you moan into his neck as he continues thrusting to get to his release. “i love you so fucking much— jesus god.” you cry out when you feel chris filling you up.

he thrusts a few more times into your trembling body to get down from his high.

“look at me.” he says softly, bringing your head up to make eye contact. he smiles and kisses your lips. “i love you too, ma.”

when you come back to your senses you lift yourself off of him and stumble to his bed to sit down. chris pulls up his boxers and checks his phone that’s been blowing up on the desk in front of him.

[spencerreidenjoyer]

please, please, please | spencer reid x reader

wc: 2.8k, rating: explicit/18+

tags/warnings: office sex, professor!spencer/student!fem!reader, age gap (20 years?), rough sex, blowjobs, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, title kink (being called sir), questionable relationship, dubious consent (they both want it but again it’s teacher/student so…)

a/n: read too many professor!spencer fics and decided i had to throw my hat in the ring. i feel crazy and i need him desperately. pls go crazy with me too. (ao3 link here!)

It doesn’t take an FBI profiler to notice how Dr. Spencer Reid fails to hide the way he stares at you in his lectures, his eyes always lingering on you even when he’s addressing the entire classroom. 

Maybe you’re just sensitive to his gaze, because he’s an extremely intelligent man whose attention you’re more than happy to have on you, given the fact that he is insanely attractive.

Maybe you’re just as attracted to him as he seems to be with you, because you absolutely preen at the attention Dr. Reid gives you in class, words of praise over your ideas often free-flowing from his lips.

Maybe because you know how hot you are, you shouldn’t have come into Dr. Reid’s office in a low-cut top and a short plaid skirt asking to discuss your final essay in his Criminal Psychology class. 

Both you and Dr. Reid know you’re more than capable of acing this paper, your in-class ideas clearly brilliant enough to impress Dr. Reid himself. And yet, you’re in his office, seemingly worried about how to get your thoughts across on paper. 

It doesn’t take an FBI profiler to notice how you’re positively bluffing, a little too eloquent to sound truly uncertain of yourself in your work for Dr. Reid’s class.

It doesn’t take an FBI profiler to notice the way Dr. Reid is staring at your tits in your top, eyes only flicking back up to your face when he realises he should be looking at you while you speak instead of at your… assets.

“Sir, did you catch what I just said?” You prod, very aware he most definitely did not hear you. You note how his eyes widen when you call him sir. 

“Um– Well, I–” Dr. Reid starts, but it’s no use. 

You stand up, putting your hands on the desk as you sigh, “Dr. Reid, I’m sorry if I’m boring you with my thought process.”

Your arms frame your tits just right, and you catch the way Dr. Reid’s eyes inevitably flit down to your cleavage. It’s so obvious when he looks back up at you, and you see his face redden. You quirk an eyebrow at him as a challenge of sorts, and he looks somewhat apologetic. 

Dr. Reid clears his throat. He avoids your eyes for a moment, as he moves to take off his blazer. “I apologise. I’m just… distracted at the moment.”

“I wonder why that is,” you hum, twirling a piece of your hair with your index finger, like you’re deep in thought. Then, like the already-obvious answer just hits you, you add, with a pout: “Oh! Do I distract you, sir?” 

“What are you doing?” Dr. Reid asks, and you can hear the way he’s trying to keep his voice steady, calm.

“I don’t know, sir,” you shrug. “Maybe you should share your thoughts with me.”

Dr. Reid blinks at you, takes the sight of you in. “Well, you’re giving me a hard time right about now.”

“Why?” You cock your head to the side. He closes his eyes and breathes in deep, just for a moment. 

Your professor’s tone biting, he answers candidly, “Your revealing clothing choice makes it difficult for me to focus. I didn’t expect you to dress like a slut when you were coming into my office for a simple consultation.”

Your sharp inhale is audible in the pindrop-silent room. Dr. Reid meets your eyes. He pauses for a moment, and you watch his tongue dart out to wet his lips. His eyes are dark. With a flick of his finger, he says, “Come here.”

You think of leaning over the desk just to fuck with him even more, but Dr. Reid looks so serious you think you might be in actual trouble. You scurry over to his side of the desk, standing next to him. He turns his chair towards you, and you can see the bulge in your professor’s pants. He’s big.

“You want this?” Dr. Reid says gently. It’s a loaded question. 

Pulling your lower lip between your teeth, you nod. “Yes, sir. I want you.”

“Good. Then get on your knees.” It’s a command, in a deep voice you’ve never heard from Dr. Reid in the past three months in his lectures. You hope your knees won’t bruise from the way you fall to them in a heartbeat.

“I didn’t think you would be such a slut.” Dr. Reid smirks, and it makes a shiver run down your spine. His hand reaches towards you, cups your cheek. He slaps your cheek gently, but the suddenness makes you gasp. “Fuck, you drive me crazy in class, but now I have you like this? I must have done something amazing in a past life to have you on your knees for me now.”

“Sir,” you exhale shakily. His touch is soft, his thumb stroking your cheek with a surprising sweetness. 

“Let’s put that mouth to good use, hmm?” Dr. Reid says, his tone warm, syrupy sweet. He reaches for his belt, the metal clink as he undoes it making heat quickly pool between your legs. The belt gets tossed aside and he unzips his fly, pulling his half-hard cock out. You watch as his large hand wraps around himself, as he strokes his cock absentmindedly. His eyes are only on you. Your body flushes hot with arousal.

Dr. Reid beckons you closer with a finger. You look up at him, and you take his cock in your hand. His eyes tell you everything you need to know. You lean forward to take him into your mouth. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock softly, the warmth of your mouth probably feeling like heaven as Dr. Reid moans quietly as you do. You swirl your tongue over his tip, tasting the saltiness of his precome.

His hand comes up to the back of your head as he watches you suck his cock. You’re kitten-licking at his tip, which doesn’t seem like enough for him. Dr. Reid pushes your head down on his cock, forcing you to take more of him into your mouth. He’s big, so the sudden fullness of your mouth coupled with the way he hits the back of your throat makes you choke slightly. You glance up at him. He’s smirking. 

“I’m sure you know how to suck cock, don’t you? Like this, sweetheart.” His tone is close to condescending, as the fist in your hair drags your head up and down on his cock. While it’s not like you don’t know how to please a man, Dr. Reid treating you this way makes you swoon – his teacherly mannerisms turning you on impossibly. 

You gag as Dr. Reid fucks your face down onto his cock, his groans mixing with your wet, choked noises. He clearly seems to enjoy this, using you how he pleases, uncaring of your own arousal. It’s so hot you feel like you might explode. You hope you’ll get more out of this than just sucking your professor off, because if he doesn’t reciprocate you might have half a mind to report him for unprofessional conduct.

But Dr. Reid is moaning into his fist, eyebrows furrowed as you blow him, and you’ve always wanted to please your professor; be it in class or right in this moment.

You reach up to grab Dr. Reid by his wrist, tapping his arm to get his attention. His eyelids flutter open, revealing his gorgeously deep brown eyes. He looks at you, slightly concerned. “What’s the matter?”

You swallow hard. “Sir, I– Will you fuck me? Please? I want- I want to feel you inside.”

Dr. Reid closes his eyes for a moment, breathes through his nose. “Holy fucking shit,” He murmurs to himself, before he says, louder, “Okay. Yes. Fuck, you’re so sexy.”

You don’t get up from your knees, not just yet. You look up at him, hands in your lap, waiting for him to tell you what to do. You smirk up at him. Dr. Reid sighs, rubbing his face with his hand, and says, “You little minx. Get up on my desk.”

He extends a hand to help you up, your legs shaky from being on your knees. You look behind you to figure out how to get yourself onto the desk, but Dr. Reid is also on his feet now, and he hoists you up onto the desk, easily getting between your spread legs. You steady yourself by placing your hands out behind you, and shudder when Dr. Reid’s big, warm hands grab at your thighs. He squeezes at the flesh, before one hand comes down to your clothed pussy. He swipes his thumb over your clit, over your hole, and he tuts. “You’re so wet already. You must be desperate.”

You shudder. Dr. Reid’s touch is not enough to feel good, as he barely teases you over your panties. “You should do something about it, Professor.”

“I will,” he says. Dr. Reid exhales, looking down between where your bodies are pressed close, his hard cock pressed against your cunt. “Look at what you’ve done to me. You’ve ruined me.”

“Sir,” you say sultrily. “You should fuck me now.”

“I will,” he repeats, his hand on your hip. He looks you up and down, and then Dr. Reid’s hand is sliding across your thigh, his fingers slipping up the hem of your skirt. You feel calloused thumbs teasing at the waistband of your panties, feel them dip past the elastic to pull them down. 

Cool air hits your cunt, as Dr. Reid slides your panties off your legs. He’s looking down at you, between your legs, clearly enjoying the view. You clear your throat, and he looks up at you, almost sheepish. He says, his voice cracking slightly, “You’re gorgeous.”

You smile. “You’re not so bad yourself, Dr. Reid.”

“Yeah?” He laughs. “I’m glad you think so.”

As you talk, Dr. Reid has mindlessly started to rut his cock along your leaking cunt, your steadily-flowing slick making the slide easy. It’s so good, even just the friction of your professor frotting against you. You hold back a moan, looking up into Dr. Reid’s eyes.

“Sir– Oh, fuck,” you moan, as his cock slips inside of you with the way he grinds against you, your hole letting him in too easily. You’re so wet that he’d just slipped in. The feeling stuns you both, wet heat around Dr. Reid’s cock. He’s still rocking his hips back and forth, which pulls him out of you and pushes him back in. The head of his cock pushes back into you, and you both moan. You cry, “More, Dr. Reid.”

Dr. Reid steadies himself as he starts to fuck you, the movement of his hips shifting as he thrusts into you proper. There’s a practised ease in his thrusts, confident as he takes you on his desk. Your head falls forward, hair in your face, as your body takes in the feeling of your professor’s cock buried inside of you.

“You feel so good,” Dr. Reid grunts, his cock fucking in and out of you. He’s filling you up just the way you need it, his thickness stretching you out so deliciously. You clench around him at the praise, and his hips stutter. “So tight for me, sweetheart.”

And then, you can’t explain what you do next. You can’t help yourself, as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his neck, smelling his musky perfume and sweat. You whimper. You feel so good you don’t know what else to do with your body, but Dr. Reid doesn’t push you away. One of his arms wraps around your waist, his hand on the small of your back feeling so warm through your thin top, even though you’re feeling so hot you could explode. 

You feel yourself being pushed onto your back onto the heavy wooden desk, Dr. Reid’s weight pressing down on you. Like this, you feel his cock press inside of you impossibly deeper, and it’s so good you feel like screaming – you don’t, obviously you can’t, but you muffle a moan into his shoulder instead.

“Such a good girl,” Dr. Reid murmurs softly, his cock punching deep inside of you. Each of his thrusts sends electric pleasure up your spine, through your nerves, and you’re tearing up from how good this feels. “Fuck, I wish I could hear you scream for me.”

You whimper, a broken cry pressed against his neck. “Dr. Reid–”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart,” Dr. Reid coos softly. “You’re doing so good, keeping it down for me. So good for me.”

You don’t like feeling so pathetic, but Dr. Reid makes you feel safe even while you’re vulnerable, while he’s fucking you on his office desk. You sob, “Dr. Reid, it’s too good– I’m gonna cum, I– please–”

“Come on,” he grunts, his voice laboured as he pants. “Cum for me, my darling.”

Your gasp is louder than you’d like it to be, in a professor’s office of all places, but you feel too good to remember to keep it down. You shudder through your orgasm, unable to control the way your body reacts to all the pleasure given to you. 

“Fuck,” Dr. Reid blurts, his cock sliding out of you faster than you expect. You whine, but Dr. Reid is cumming all over your cunt, thick, hot spurts all over already-slick skin. “Oh, shit. Fuck.”

You’re thankful Dr. Reid didn’t cum inside, only because he didn’t have a condom on. You feel like a mess, but Dr. Reid’s looking at you like you’re a goddess. You feel his softening cock resting on your thigh. You want to go again, to feel him inside of you again, but perhaps that’s too desperate. 

When his head is clear, Dr. Reid is quick to step back, reaching into the desk drawer. 

“Sorry, let me just–” The commandeering, dominant Dr. Reid you just met is now gone, back to his slightly silly, bumbling self. He takes two wipes out from the packet of wet wipes he had pulled out from the drawer in his haste, but his hands are gentle when he wipes you clean. His touch is soft, sweet, and you feel so special in his hands. “I’m sorry I made a mess of you.”

You chuckle. “Dr. Reid, I’m more than okay with it. I think it comes with the territory.”

He smiles, albeit a little awkwardly. “Yeah, you’re right. I just don’t do this often, I suppose.”

“Oh, please. As if you don’t have other students throwing themselves at you too, Dr. Reid,” you laugh, waving him off.

“I do, but I’ve never done anything with them. Even if they try to proposition me, I tell them to leave my office. I’ve only… It’s just you.”

You’re stunned for a moment, blinking up at him. “You… Seriously?”

He frowns slightly. “Does it seem like I sleep around with my students often?”

“No! No, I just– I didn’t expect that. I thought you would be more… experienced? Considering how readily you let me… seduce you. I guess.”

“You’re definitely convincing,” Dr. Reid smiles. “Besides, I think you’re really special. I’ve never had a student like you.”

“Oh,” you say, because what else can you say in this scenario? Should you say anything else? It’s starting to hit you now, the implications of what you’ve just done walking into your professor’s office like this. “That’s… flattering.”

He tilts his head, brows furrowing. “Your pause seems to imply you don’t really mean that.”

“Oh, no, Dr. Reid, not at all, I–” You shake your head. “I’m really flattered that you think I’m special, I just– I’m not sure how I can navigate this. We’ve had sex, and it’s really hitting me now that I should not have seduced my professor because that’s definitely a violation of conduct, and–”

“Hey, relax,” Dr. Reid says, putting his hand on your shoulder. You breathe in deep. Dr. Reid looks at you warmly, and says, “I know we probably shouldn’t have done this, but I couldn’t resist you. And besides, it’s already done. We’re close to the end of the semester anyways. If you– I– If you want to continue this… outside of campus, I’d be more than happy to.”

“Dr. Reid,” you gasp, shocked that your professor would even be interested enough in you to suggest something like that. A relationship, outside of class? Or whatever it is he was thinking of. Frankly, even if Dr. Reid wants to meet once a month just to fuck, you’d take whatever you could get, especially with a man as gorgeous as him.

“Call me Spencer. Please,” he smiles. “Outside of class, at least.”

You grin. “Okay, Spencer.”

[gf2bellamy]

undercover — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you and spencer have to go undercover content warnings: unsub watching spencer and reader, reader wearing a dress, both being awkward, unsub being led into a trap a/n: i had the best time writing this not gonna lie

The air in the police station’s conference room was heavy, a tense silence hanging over the team as Hotch stood at the front, detailing the latest developments in the case.

You leaned slightly against the table, arms crossed, standing next to Emily as you absorbed the information.

The unsub was targeting young couples, choosing his victims with chilling precision based on their public displays of affection and perceived happiness.

His next target location was an exclusive charity donation event scheduled for the following evening.

Hotch’s voice was steady, cutting through the quiet. “The unsub has a pattern, and this event fits perfectly within his hunting ground. If he’s already selected his next victims, this could be our only chance to intercept him before he strikes again.” 

You shifted your weight, glancing across the table where Spencer stood, his brow furrowed in concentration. His hair fell into his face as he studied the board filled with crime scene photos and case notes, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides, the way they always did when his mind was racing. 

For a moment, you let yourself look at him, caught in the soft focus of his profile—the way his lips pressed together in thought, the faint crease between his eyebrows.

You could almost see the wheels turning in his mind, each piece of information clicking into place like a puzzle. 

Then you blinked, snapping yourself out of it. Now wasn’t the time to let your mind wander. 

“...which means we need to go undercover,” Hotch’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling your attention back to the room.  

Hotch continued, his tone all business. “This event is high-profile and heavily monitored, so we’ll need to blend in seamlessly. A couple attending as guests will have the best chance of moving through the crowd unnoticed while keeping an eye out for the unsub.” 

The room went still, everyone waiting for the inevitable. 

“I want you to be one to go undercover,” Hotch said, his steady gaze locking on you. 

You blinked, slightly taken aback, but you didn’t dare argue. You nodded quickly, your heart skipping a beat. Saying no to Hotch wasn’t just unlikely—it was practically impossible. 

But then came the twist that you hadn’t been prepared for. 

“And you can choose who you’d like to go undercover with,” Hotch added, his tone calm but leaving no room for hesitation. 

Your mouth fell open slightly, and for a moment, you were sure you hadn’t heard him correctly. “I—wait, I get to choose?” 

Hotch raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of patience and expectation. 

The entire team’s eyes were on you now, the tension in the room suddenly palpable. You could hear Emily suppressing a laugh next to you, her amusement barely contained as she leaned closer, her shoulder brushing yours. 

“Oh, uh…” you stammered, glancing around the room. Your eyes darted from one teammate to another—Derek was smirking, clearly enjoying your discomfort, and JJ gave you an encouraging nod, her lips twitching as if to say good luck. 

The pressure was mounting. Your pulse quickened as you looked back at Hotch, who was still waiting, his expression unreadable. Finally, your gaze landed on Spencer. 

“I’ll… I’ll go with Spence,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Spencer’s head snapped up, his wide eyes meeting yours as if he couldn’t quite believe what you’d just said. 

Derek let out a low chuckle, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin. “Good choice,” he said under his breath, exchanging a knowing look with Emily, who was now biting her lip to keep from laughing outright. 

Hotch gave a small nod, mercifully breaking the silence. “Good. I suggest you two get ready and run through the details before tomorrow.” 

You nodded again, feeling your cheeks heat under the weight of everyone’s attention. As the meeting broke up and the team began to gather their things, you avoided eye contact with anyone, hoping to avoid further teasing. 

Spencer, meanwhile, seemed to have frozen in place, still processing the situation. When he finally moved, he adjusted his satchel nervously and approached you, his hands tucked into his pockets. 

“Um,” he started, his voice soft, “you—you’re okay with this, right? I mean, if you’re not, I can talk to Hotch and—” 

“Spence,” you interrupted gently, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s fine. Really.” 

His shoulders relaxed slightly, but his expression was still uncertain. “Okay. Just… let me know if there’s anything I can do to make it less awkward.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “You’re not the one making it awkward,” you teased, though your stomach still fluttered at the thought of spending an evening pretending to be Spencer Reid’s significant other. 

The next afternoon, as you stood in your room going through the checklist of what you needed for the evening, there was a knock at the door. You frowned, glancing at the clock—you still had two hours before the event. 

When you opened the door, Emily stood there, her usual sly smile in place, holding something draped over her arm. 

“Something wrong?” you asked, your brow furrowing. 

“Nope,” she said simply, brushing past you into the room like she owned the place. She flopped onto your bed with casual ease, holding up the item she was carrying. 

“What’s that?” you asked warily, already sensing trouble. 

“Your dress,” Emily said with a grin, letting the fabric unfold dramatically. 

“My what?” Your jaw dropped as you took in the garment. It was stunning—and way too fancy. The kind of dress that belonged at a high-end gala or an awards show, not in your usual wardrobe rotation. 

“Oh, no. No, no, no,” you stammered, shaking your head furiously. “I’m not wearing that.” 

Emily leaned back against the headboard, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Yes, you are.” 

“I can’t wear that! It’s—it’s too much!” you protested, gesturing wildly at the dress. “I’ll trip, or spill something, or…” You trailed off, your words faltering as you realized she wasn’t going to back down. 

“Too bad,” Emily said with a chuckle. “Hotch approved it. And trust me, it’s perfect for tonight. Besides, Spencer’s wearing a suit, so…” 

Your arms crossed defensively over your chest as you glared at her. “I don’t see how Spencer’s suit has anything to do with me wearing that,” you said, your voice bordering on a whine. 

“Oh, come on,” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “You’re supposed to be undercover as a couple, remember? Couples match.” She raised an eyebrow, daring you to argue further. 

You opened your mouth to protest again but stopped yourself, knowing deep down she was right.

Still, the thought of walking into that event in a dress like this, with Spencer Reid as your “date,” made your stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with nerves about the case. 

Emily seemed to sense your hesitation. Her teasing demeanor softened slightly as she added, “Hey, you’ll look amazing. Trust me.” 

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you eyed the dress again. It was beautiful, you had to admit. But it was also intimidating. 

“Fine,” you muttered, throwing your hands up in defeat. “I’ll wear it. But if I end up falling on my face, it’s on you.” 

Emily grinned triumphantly, standing up and patting your shoulder. “You won’t regret it,” she said, heading toward the door. “And I bet Spencer’s reaction will be priceless.” 

You groaned, already regretting agreeing to this. But as you glanced back at the dress, a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder what Spencer would think when he saw you in it. 

Two hours later, you stood frozen in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection. The dress Emily had brought fit you perfectly, hugging and flowing in all the right places, but that didn’t ease the butterflies in your stomach. 

You’d gone out with the BAU team countless times, but this felt different. This wasn’t casual drinks at the bar or a quick lunch between cases—this was undercover, high-stakes, and highly formal.

And the idea of stepping out dressed like this in front of them, in front of him, felt strangely daunting. 

A knock at the door snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. You sighed, assuming it was Emily coming back to check on you. 

With a deep breath, you opened the door—only to freeze when you found Spencer standing there instead. 

Your breath caught slightly as you took him in. He was wearing a suit that fit him just right, tailored to highlight his tall, lean frame, and his tie was neatly knotted, adding a touch of elegance. 

Spencer, however, seemed equally stunned. His eyes widened as he looked you up and down, his lips parting slightly in awe. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and you began to fidget nervously. 

“Hi,” you said softly, breaking the silence. 

Spencer blinked rapidly, finally meeting your eyes again. “Uh, hi,” he managed, his voice slightly higher-pitched than usual. “We should probably… head out now.” 

“Right,” you said, grabbing your purse. 

Just as you turned to close the door, he added, “You look nice.” 

You paused, turning back to him with a smile. “Thank you. So do you.” 

Spencer’s face turned a faint shade of pink, and in his mind, he was kicking himself. Nice? That’s all he can say? You don’t just look nice; you look incredible—stunning. 

But the words stayed trapped in his throat, his nerves getting the better of him. 

Meanwhile, you couldn’t help but glance at him again as you stepped into the hallway. The way his suit highlighted his frame, the way his hair was perfectly styled—he looked far better than just nice, too. 

As the two of you walked side by side toward the elevator, the proximity of his tall stature made you feel both comforted and acutely aware of every step you took.

Neither of you said much as you headed to the car waiting to take you to the event.

Still, as Spencer held the door open for you and you slid into the seat beside him, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this undercover mission wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

The driver started the car, and the low hum of the engine filled the silence as the two of you settled into the plush leather seats.

Emily had warned you that this would be a high-profile event—fancy clothes, fancy venue, and, of course, a fancy car complete with a driver. 

The quiet between you and Spencer felt heavier than usual, the kind of silence that wasn’t entirely comfortable.

Maybe it was the formal attire, the pressure of the mission, or the simple fact that both of you were hiding feelings you thought the other didn’t share. 

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. He was staring out the window, his fingers fiddling absently with the hem of his jacket. His profile was illuminated by the streetlights flashing by, and you could see the faint tension in his jaw. 

“Spencer,” you said softly, turning slightly in your seat to face him. 

He blinked, pulling his attention away from the passing scenery. “Hmm?” His tone was distracted, almost distant. 

“Are you okay?” you asked, hesitating for a moment before reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. 

His eyes flickered down to your hand, then back to your face, and for a second, he seemed caught off guard. “Oh—yeah,” he said quickly, offering you a small, somewhat unconvincing smile. “I’m fine. Just… thinking.” 

You raised an eyebrow, not entirely buying his answer. “About the case?” 

Spencer hesitated, then shook his head. “Not really.” 

“Then what?” you pressed gently, your hand still resting on his arm. 

He hesitated again, his fingers brushing over the lapel of his suit jacket as if the action might steady him. “It’s just… different. You know, being undercover like this. Pretending to be…” He trailed off, his gaze darting away as though he couldn’t finish the sentence. 

“Pretending to be a couple?” you finished for him, your voice quieter now. 

His eyes met yours again, and there was a flicker of something unspoken in them—something vulnerable.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Your hand gave his arm a gentle squeeze, and you offered him a small, reassuring smile. 

“Spencer,” you said softly, “it’s just for the case. We’ve got this, okay?” 

He nodded, but there was a shadow of uncertainty in his expression.

As the car came to a stop in front of the event venue, you turned to Spencer with a soft smile. The elegant building loomed ahead, lights sparkling in the cool night air.

“You ready?” you asked, your voice gentle but steady. 

Spencer blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts. “Yeah. You?” His lips curled into a small smile, though there was an underlying tension in his posture. 

You nodded, trying to ignore the nerves fluttering in your own stomach. “Let’s do this.” 

He hesitated for a moment, glancing at the door handle, then took a deep breath. With a nod to himself, he opened the door and stepped out of the car.

Spencer muttered something to himself under his breath, his brow furrowed as if reminding himself that it would all be okay—that this was just part of the job.

When he reached your side, he opened the door. His eyes met yours for a brief moment before he extended his hand. 

You hesitated for only a second, your heart skipping a beat as you noticed the slight tremble in his fingers.

His hand felt solid in yours and gentle. His fingers curled around yours, not too tight, not too loose.

The touch felt natural, familiar even, but still unfamiliar enough to make your pulse quicken. 

“Thanks,” you said softly, your eyes lifting to meet his.

His smile was small but real, and as you stepped out of the car, you couldn’t help but feel like, maybe for once, you were doing this together—not as agents on a case, but as something more. 

Just as you and Spencer were about to head inside, the ear pieces crackled to life, and Hotch’s voice came through, sharp and clear. 

“You two alright?” His tone was calm, but you could hear the underlying concern.

It was clear the team was likely watching you both, observing every move you made from their monitors, making sure everything was on track. 

You glanced at Spencer, who gave you a small nod, then answered into your earpiece.

“Yes,” you said, your voice steady. 

At the exact same moment, Spencer spoke too. “Yes.” 

There was a brief pause, as if Hotch was evaluating your responses, then he replied, “Good. Be careful.” 

The static of the earpiece buzzed for a moment before going silent again. 

You felt a rush of nerves flood through you, the team’s eyes were on you—on both of you.

Spencer straightened up, adjusting his suit jacket, his hand still loosely holding yours. “Let’s do this,” he said softly, his gaze steady but warm. 

You smiled at him, the nerves dissipating slightly as you saw his calm resolve.  

You and Spencer made your way to a tall cocktail table near the edge of the room, its position giving you a good vantage point of the entrance and most of the main floor.

The soft hum of polite conversation and the clinking of glasses filled the air. You scanned the crowd, noting the guests chatting in small groups.

Everything felt so natural—except for you. 

Spencer stood next to you, his posture stiff, his eyes darting between the entrance and the nearby groups of people.

His hands fidgeted slightly with the cuffs of his jacket, a sign that he was just as nervous as you were. 

The sudden crackle of your earpiece broke your focus, followed by Derek’s unmistakably teasing voice. 

“Hey, lovebirds,” he drawled, his tone dripping with amusement. “You might wanna tone up the romance a bit. You’re looking more like coworkers on a coffee break than a couple in love.” 

Your eyes widened, and you glanced at Spencer, who immediately stiffened, his face flushing a deep shade of red. 

“Derek,” Spencer muttered under his breath. 

You could practically hear Derek grinning as he continued. “What? I’m just saying. Hold hands, whisper sweet nothings, maybe throw in a little eye-gazing. You know, sell it.” 

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a laugh. Spencer, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. 

Then, Hotch’s voice cut through the chatter in your earpiece, sharp and stern. “Morgan.” 

For a moment, you thought that was the end of it, but then Hotch added, begrudgingly, “He’s not wrong.” 

Your cheeks flushed, and Spencer’s jaw dropped slightly, his wide eyes meeting yours in a mixture of disbelief and panic. 

“Well,” you whispered, leaning in closer so only Spencer could hear, “it looks like we have our orders.” 

Spencer’s lips parted, but no words came out. He hesitated, then cleared his throat, finally managing to say, “Uh… right. Okay. How do we… um…” 

You tilted your head, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “How about this?” Without waiting for him to overthink it, you slipped your hand into his, interlacing your fingers with his. 

His hand tensed for a split second before it relaxed, his palm warm against yours. His eyes flicked down to your joined hands, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he struggled to process the moment. 

“Relax,” you said softly, giving his hand a light squeeze. “We’re just… blending in.” 

Spencer nodded, though his face was still tinged with a deep red. “Blending in,” he repeated, his voice a little shaky. 

You smiled, stepping just a bit closer to him to complete the act. From the corner of your eye, you could see some of the guests glancing your way, but none seemed suspicious.

To anyone watching, you and Spencer looked like just another couple enjoying the event. 

The comms crackled again, and Derek’s voice returned. “Much better. Look at you two, all adorable and undercover. Proud of you, Pretty Boy.” 

Spencer groaned quietly, and you had to bite back a laugh.

You hesitated for a moment.Then, with a deep breath, you reached up and placed your other hand gently on Spencer’s chest.

The soft fabric of his suit was warm under your palm, and you could feel the faint, rapid rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. 

Spencer’s reaction was immediate. His eyes dropped to your hand, wide with surprise, before slowly lifting to meet your gaze. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out. 

“We’ve got to sell it, don’t we?” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked up at him.

Your eyes searched his, trying to convey a sense of reassurance. 

Spencer swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly. “Right,” he murmured, his voice soft and unsteady. “Sell it.” 

His gaze flickered to your hand again, and then, as if summoning some inner courage, he placed his own hand gently on top of yours. His fingers were tentative, almost hesitant, but the gesture was enough to make your heart skip a beat. 

You both stood there for a moment, the hum of the event around you fading into the background. To anyone else, you might have looked like a perfectly content couple lost in their own world.

“You’re, uh… good at this,” Spencer said awkwardly, breaking the silence. 

A small laugh escaped you, and you glanced down, trying to hide the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Thanks, I guess.” You tilted your head back up, meeting his gaze. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

Spencer’s lips quirked into a small, nervous smile, and for a moment, the tension between you eased. Then, the comms crackled again. 

“Looking cozy there,” came Derek’s teasing voice, his amusement practically dripping through the earpiece. “Careful, or you might forget this is a mission.” 

You rolled your eyes, and Spencer shifted uncomfortably, his ears turning pink. 

“Focus, Morgan,” Hotch’s firm voice cut in, but there was a faint edge of exasperation that made you think even he was mildly entertained. 

You sighed, dropping your voice low enough so only Spencer could hear. “Looks like we’re the entertainment for the night.” 

Suddenly, Emily’s voice came through the comms, low and urgent. “I think he’s here. Northwest corner by the bar.” 

Your breath caught, and you instinctively turned your gaze to Spencer. His wide eyes met yours, and for a moment.

Pretending to be casually scanning the room, you let your eyes sweep over the crowd, focusing on the bar area.

And then you saw him. 

A tall man in his mid-30s, dressed in a sharp but slightly ill-fitting suit. His movements were stiff, his posture too rigid. He didn’t blend in with the carefree elegance of the other guests.

Most telling of all was the way his eyes darted around the room, pausing on young couples with a gaze that lingered just a moment too long. 

“That’s him,” you murmured under your breath, your tone even. 

“I see him,” Spencer said softly, tilting his head slightly to mask his words as he leaned toward you. His hand remained on yours, grounding yet trembling slightly.

“Now get his attention,” Hotch ordered through the comms, his tone clipped and commanding. 

Your stomach tightened as you exchanged a glance with Spencer.

Spencer’s eyes darted around, betraying his unease, his fingers twitching slightly against yours. 

Keeping the act up was paramount, you reminded yourself, even as your pulse quickened. You inhaled deeply, steeling yourself for what came next. 

Breaking the contact between your hands, you reached up, your fingers brushing against Spencer’s cheek as you gently cupped his face and guided his gaze to meet yours. His wide, startled eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, he seemed to forget how to breathe. 

“Hi,” you whispered, your voice low, a contrast to the chaos brewing inside you. 

Spencer blinked, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. His gaze flickered briefly down to your lips, then back to your eyes, his breath hitching audibly.

“I—uh—hi,” he stammered, his voice barely audible, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson. 

You smiled softly, leaning in just enough to close some of the space between you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the unsub pausing, his gaze shifting in your direction. 

“He’s looking,” you murmured under your breath, keeping your focus on Spencer. 

Spencer’s hand instinctively found your waist, his grip firm but hesitant, as though he wasn’t sure where to place his hands. “You’re really good at this,” he whispered, his tone a mixture of awe and anxiety. 

“So are you,” you replied, your lips curving into a soft smile. Your thumb brushed a faint circle against Spencer’s cheek, a tender gesture meant to sell the act—but it lingered just a moment longer than necessary. 

Spencer’s eyes darted toward the unsub.His gaze locked with the man’s for a fraction of a second before Spencer quickly looked away.

You dropped your hand from Spencer’s face, but his grip on your waist didn’t falter. If anything, it tightened slightly, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress.

“Don’t react,” Spencer murmured, his breath warm against your temple as he leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing the shell of your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine. 

“React to what?” you whispered back, keeping your voice light as though teasing him. 

“The fact that he’s practically on top of us,” Spencer muttered, his tone edged with unease. 

You shifted your gaze subtly, catching sight of the unsub. He was now at a table barely a foot away, his posture casual but his eyes keenly observing you and Spencer.

He was close enough that you could see the faint sheen of sweat on his brow, the tension in his clenched jaw betraying his outwardly calm demeanor. 

“He’s closing in,” Emily’s voice came through, sharp and clear. “You need to keep moving—draw him out.” 

Spencer straightened, his arm sliding fully around your waist as he guided you toward the edge of the dance floor.

“Let’s get some air,” he said aloud, his voice warm and affectionate. 

You nodded, leaning into him as if his suggestion had been entirely spontaneous. “Good idea,” you replied, glancing up at him with a soft smile. 

As you weaved through the crowd, you could feel the unsub’s eyes boring into your back.

A quick glance over your shoulder confirmed it—he was following, like a predator stalking its prey. 

Spencer’s hand slipped from your waist to intertwine with yours, his fingers squeezing gently as he led you toward the exit.

The cool night air hit your skin as you stepped outside, the noise from the party muffled behind the glass doors. 

Spencer’s hand remained steady in yours, his thumb brushing reassuring circles against your skin.

Hotch’s voice crackled softly in your earpiece. “Lead him to the alley on the left. The team is in position.” 

You swallowed hard, nodding slightly even though Hotch couldn’t see you. Spencer must have felt the slight tremble in your grip because he glanced at you, his hazel eyes soft with reassurance. 

“You’re doing great,” he murmured, his voice barely audible as he leaned toward you. 

The cool night air was thick with tension as the sound of footsteps echoed behind you.

The unsub wasn’t trying to hide his presence anymore, his pace remaining just slow enough to keep you on edge. 

The path curved, and the dim lighting gave way to shadows as the alley came into view. Spencer’s hand tightened slightly around yours.

“You okay?” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned closer. 

You nodded quickly, your voice low but firm. “I’m fine.” 

As you approached the alley, you could feel the unsub closing the distance. The hairs on the back of your neck prickled, the weight of his gaze heavy against your skin. 

Hotch’s voice came through again. “Almost there. Keep moving.” 

Spencer cast a quick glance at you.“Just a little further,” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. 

When you stepped into the alley, the atmosphere shifted, the noise from the party fading entirely. The unsub’s footsteps grew louder, the sound reverberating off the brick walls around you. 

Spencer stopped suddenly, his hand slipping from yours as he turned to face the unsub, his body shielding you instinctively. 

The unsub slowed his steps, a sinister smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You two make quite the couple,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. 

The unsub’s smile widened as he took another step forward, but before he could make another move, the alley exploded with motion. 

“FBI! Don’t move!” 

Agents swarmed in from both ends of the alley, their guns trained on the unsub as he froze, his smirk fading into a scowl.

Spencer reached back, his hand brushing yours briefly in reassurance before stepping forward to join the agents, his sharp eyes locked on the unsub as the man was cuffed and restrained. 

Your heart was still racing, but as Spencer turned back to you, his expression softened, a small, relieved smile breaking through the tension. 

“You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle as he stepped closer, his hand finding yours again. 

You nodded, your grip tightening on his. “Yeah.” 

A couple hours, you were back in your warm ( and safe ) room.

The soft hum of the bathroom fan was the only sound as you stood in front of the mirror, brushing your teeth.

Your reflection stared back at you, but your mind was miles away, replaying the events of the evening on an endless loop. 

The way Spencer’s hand had lingered on your waist. The gentle squeeze of his fingers intertwined with yours. The warmth in his gaze every time he looked at you. 

You spit out the toothpaste and rinsed your mouth, leaning forward to splash cool water on your face. It did little to calm the flush in your cheeks or the quickened pace of your heart.

You sighed, gripping the edge of the sink and closing your eyes. 

Get a grip, you thought, shaking your head at yourself. But the feeling of his touch seemed to linger on your skin, impossible to shake.

It wasn’t the first time you’d felt this way about Spencer, but tonight had brought those emotions to the surface in a way that felt almost unbearable. 

A soft knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts, making you glance up sharply. You weren’t expecting anyone, and for a moment, you considered ignoring it.

But the knock came again, more hesitant this time. 

You grabbed a towel to dry your face and padded toward the door, your heart racing as you opened it. 

"Hi," Spencer said softly, shifting on his feet as he stood just outside the door. 

"Hi," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, feeling a little more awake now that he was standing there.

A strange feeling washed over you as you took in the way he looked at you, the softness in his eyes. 

"I just wanted to check up on you," he said, his smile a little shy, his fingers fidgeting nervously at his sides. "You know, after tonight…" 

You couldn’t help but smile at his hesitation, the quiet vulnerability that he always seemed to wear so openly.

You liked that about him.

You liked the fact that, despite his brilliance, he still got nervous around you, still felt this awkwardness that was so endearing. 

"I’m okay," you said, brushing a hand through your hair, trying to reassure him.

"Are you?" you asked, your voice gentle.

You glanced back at his fidgeting hands. Slowly, you reached for his hands, stopping the fidgeting that seemed to take over whenever he was unsure.

He stared down at your intertwined fingers, his expression softening. 

"I'm okay," he said.His voice was a little quieter, and he seemed to be lost in the sensation of your hands together.

You both stood there in silence for a beat, your pulse quickening, suddenly aware of how close he was. 

You glanced down at your hands, feeling a flutter in your chest. But there was still that nagging sense of awkwardness creeping in.

As if sensing your shyness, Spencer didn’t let go. Instead, his grip tightened ever so slightly.

He didn’t let you pull away, his fingers curling more firmly around yours, his thumb brushing across your hand in small, soothing movements. 

"I’ll let you sleep," he said, his voice quiet, observing how sleepy you looked.

His eyes softened even more, and a small, gentle smile appeared on his lips as he looked at your tired face. "It’s been a long night." 

You chuckled softly, nodding, suddenly feeling the weight of the evening press against your shoulders. "Yeah, it has," you agreed, the exhaustion creeping up on you in waves. 

You finally let go of his hand.

Spencer stood there, taking in the sight of you—your sleepy eyes, the soft curve of your lips, the way your pajamas looked so different from the strong, confident agent he’d worked beside all day.

He smiled, a small, tender curve of his lips that made your heart skip. “Good night,” he said, his voice almost a whisper as he turned, clearly about to leave. 

But before he could take another step, you felt a rush of confidence in you. Without thinking, you stepped closer to him, hesitating only for a moment before standing on your tiptoes.

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your lips. You pulled back just as quickly, your heart pounding in your chest. 

“Good night, Spence,” you said softly, the words almost as fragile as the moment. 

He froze, blinking in surprise as he touched his cheek where your lips had just been. For a second, neither of you moved, both of you caught in the tension of the kiss.

Spencer looked at you, eyes wide but soft, lips parted as if he didn’t quite know what to say. 

Then, he smiled—genuinely. “Good night,” he murmured, his voice thick with something unspoken.

His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, and you could see the way he wanted to stay, the way he didn’t want to leave.

But he didn’t say anything more. 

With a final glance, he stepped back, turning slowly to leave.

You watched him go, your heart still racing, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he felt the same spark you did.

[ikeuki]

and the crowd is . . . confused ? / 제이크

( pairing ) sim jaeyun x fem!reader ✶ mutual pining? ; fluff/crack, miscommunication + cursing — ( wordcount ) 1.8k

ᯓ★ ikeuki’s note. never jump to conclusions ladies & gents! also cliffhanger lol sorry, will prob make a pt.2!

synopsis. after three years of crushing on popular classmate, sim jaeyun, you finally muster up your courage and decide to confess. but you overhear him fawning over someone who clearly isn’t you, are you too late?

“just do it! i swear i will do it myself if you don’t,” your best friend chaewon complicated. she was spread out on the cafeteria lunch table, clearly overreacting in your opinion.

“i’ll do it after break, trust trust,” you assured and kept your eyes on the mushy carrots on your plate.

jungwon groaned at your blatant lie, “oh come on! you said that last time!” he was right. you’ve been delaying your confession for about three breaks straight, coming up with a stupid excuse each time.

first it was that the year was an all-time stressful one where your crush was apparently ���too focused on his studies.” but your friends knew better. especially when they saw jake sim playing video games during bio everyday.

next was that you claimed he was sick and the confession would just “add stress to his aching pain.” chaewon and jungwon genuinely could not take that one seriously, both overhearing from his friends sunghoon and heeseung that he was just on an extended family trip to jeju island.

most recently, you blamed it on no time! you just never seem to bump into him at school! LIE.

jungwon stared at you dumbfounded while chaewon turned your head for you to show jake laughing with his friends across the cafeteria.

he looked perfect. the rays of sunlight lightly illuminated his figure as he had that oh-so charming smile. his soft dark hair and bangs slightly hiding his eyes, but not enough for you to miss his sparkling gaze. the loud chatter of the cafeteria was suddenly quieter when all you could hear was his sweet voice laughing.

“here she goes again,” chaewon sighed, watching her best friend go head over heels this damn boy for the eighth time today.

the school bell snapped you out of your trance, watching as he and his friends got up to leave. before doing so, he grabbed his tray as well his friends, gathering the little wrappers and napkins they all used.

“dude—you don’t have to do that,” his friend commented, nodding towards the exit.

“yeah, but it doesn’t hurt,” jake smiled and quickly finished cleaning up. on his way out, he threw all the trash into the garbage can and piled the trays by the counter, before flashing a grin to the cafeteria ladies who all adored him.

that’s what you liked about jake the most.

of course, he was the most handsome boy you’ve ever laid your eyes on. but he was the sweetest too. you would know—because that’s how you first met him.

back in freshman year, you were completely lost on the first day, all your middle school friends going to a different high school than you. hugging your textbooks close to your chest and trying to keep a low profile, you wandered the entire school in search of your first class.

where the hell was class d-4?

taking a moment to look at the room number plates, you stood in the middle of the hall. suddenly, four boys or so rushed by you and one of them bumped into your shoulder causing you to lose control of your books.

they fell onto the floor as you rushed to pick them up. you didn’t even give the boys another glance as you assumed they were already gone. ‘so this is how high school is’ you internally grumbled and rolled your eyes.

but when you reached to grab your last textbook, another hand already picked it up. the figure was rising to his feet, you subconsciously followed.

“i’m so sorry about my friends, they’re playing this stupid game and—” the boy started, but you almost tuned his words out.

you looked at the boy standing in front of you. his shaggy dark hair and awkward stance while holding one of your textbooks. he nervously held the back of his neck and continued explaining his friends’ antics and apologized.

surprised was an understatement.

“—anyways i apologize on the behalf of my friends and all this,” he softly laughed. you couldn’t help but crack a small smile at his rambling, lightening the mood.

“ok good you’re smiling!” he noted and let out a sigh of relief. the last thing he wanted to do was make any enemies on the first day of a new high school.

“yeah and i forgive you, don’t worry. it wasn’t even your fault, i was standing in the middle of the hall,” you replied and looked at where both of you were now standing. it was true, your body was quite literally in the middle where people were trying to pass by.

“i was just trying to find my class,” you continued and looked back at the small post-it on one of your textbooks that read the room number you were in desperate search for.

“oh d-4?” he asked calmy and titled his head to the side like a puppy.

a faint blush painted your face as the boy widened his eyes awaiting your response. he really did look like one of those golden retrievers you would stay up all night looking at on tiktok.

“yeah…algebra?” you hesitated. “yeah yeah ms. park’s! i have her first period too, c’mon that’s where my friends were going,” he answered enthusiastically and lead the way down the hall.

he walked with your textbook still in his hands and began small talk, introducing himself and asking for your name. the two of you got a little close that year, thanks to the class.

jake would always say hi in the halls and the courtyard, whether he was alone or with his friends. as he got popular when joining the varsity soccer team in sophomore year and gaining more friends, he remained loyal to you in his acknowledgements towards you.

you were surprised when on the first day of senior year, he ran up next to you.

“hey y/n! how was your break?” he exclaimed with such interest. he still had his shaggy dark hair and that puppy-like habit of tilting his head when asking a question.

so if you two were that friendly, why was it so hard to confess your deep-rooted feelings for him?

wait, it wasn’t. cause what’s the worst that could happen…?

“y’know what, i’m going to do it,” you blurted. jungwon and chaewon stopped in the hall, running back to you and holding onto your shoulders.

“i should’ve recorded that—fuck!” chaewon shouted, catching the attention of passing by students.

“wait are you serious? like actually? actually!” jungwon repeated and started jumping up and down as if he just asked to be the best man at your wedding or something.

“yes. dead serious. today, after fifth period and before he walks to the field for soccer practice,” you nodded your head and looked straight, determined look in your eyes and all.

“should i be alarmed that you know his everyday whereabouts?” jungwon muttered.

“who cares! she’s finally doing it!” chaewon celebrated and jungwon whispered a “ok true,” getting giddy with her.

“wow i did not think you guys would be this hyped,” you raised your eyebrow at your best friends who were probably happier than you were.

“now this means we wouldn’t have to hear your delusional thoughts anymore!” jungwon exclaimed and raised both his arms in the air. chaewon joined in, “no more stalking and obsessing!”

“oh fuck you guys!”

the entire fifth period, you thought about how you would confess to your crush: jaeyun sim.

writing a love letter? too complicated.

asking him out on the spot? too risky.

texting him? too scaredy-cat.

before you knew it, the bell was ringing and passing period began which meant you had ten minutes to locate and find jake first and quickly tell him your feelings. luckily, there were a couple boys on the soccer team in your class so you just needed to discreetly follow them to the field.

and that’s exactly what you did. until a familiar figure was only a few steps away from you. you hid behind the bleachers as him and his friends were on the field getting ready.

you took a couple breaths and tried to collect your thoughts. what would you even say? ‘hey jake! could i talk with you for a second? so basically ive been in love with you since freshmen year wh—’

“isn’t she so cute!”

the voice you loved so much felt like a betrayal now. you peeped your head above the bleachers to see jake showing his friends something on his phone.

“much cuter than mine, bro i swear she’s the devil,” one of his friends mentioned and leaned in to see something on jake’s phone.

what were they talking about? more importantly, who?

“not mine—she’s an angel, i love her! her birthday’s next week,” jake smiled fondly, as if he were in love.

your heart shattered at the very sight. not that he was happy, but that he was…talking with heart eyes about a girl. one that was obviously not you, your birthday being months away.

“what’s her name?” someone asked, you narrowed your eyes to try to catch a glimpse of the photo but he casually put his phone back in his pocket before you could.

“layla!” he answered gleefully and laid down on the grass, thinking about his favorite girl.

you bit your lip, turning around and walking away from the field. your chest felt heavy and there was apparent discomfort spreading throughout your body. how could you be so blind?

of course, jaeyun sim would have a girlfriend! after all he was cute, sweet, athletic, smart, and popular! he had you fawning over him for the past three years, but obviously you weren’t the only one. did that mean he picked up other girls’ textbooks and walked them to class? fuck.

defeated, you decided to ditch your sixth period and walked to the parking lot instead. you pulled out your phone, texting the group chat.

TWO WONS = ONE RIGHT !! 😈😈😈

you soooo #missionfailed og won WHAT SPILL WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED chae aka the better won HUH NOOOOOOOO you soooo he apparently has a girl! omg kill myself!! hahahaha…hahaha chae aka the better won

og won ummm i didn’t consent to that

chae aka the better won 🫥 ANYWAYS im so sorry y/n HE FUMBLEDDDD og won jake DOESNT have a girl tho???? you yea he does i heard him and his friends talking abt HOW CUTE his girlfriend was. chae aka the better won AW HELL NAH

og won bros using her own memes now no no sunghoon told me during third that they’ve all been trying to set him up with jay’s cousin but he liked someone else or smth you THIRD???!!!! AND YOU DIDNT THINK TO TELL ME THIS DURING LUNCH?!?!? chae aka the better won jungwon. smhsmh og won SORRY SORRY but y/n. he’s single. you ok but then who tf is layla???? og won … who’s gonna tell her chae aka the better won y/n im going to hold your hand when i say this…that’s his dog. og won pls tell me u didn’t think layla was the “girlfriend” you oh fuck chae aka the better won

og won OKAY WHY AM I STILL GETTING SLANDERED

wait. did you just fuck yourself over?

…pt.2?

[rafesbabygirlx]

A Lot of Time has Passed |Part 1

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader

Summary: Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. JJs sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.

A/N: Writing this with inspiration from season 4 part 1. Rewriting plot lines. No mention of Y/N but is written in her perspective. Was inspired of Rafe’s new character arc which I love but thought I’d make it a bit more interesting and messy.

Also- you have to imagine that Maybank reader is intertwined in the previous seasons. And was involved with Rafe. She understands him more than Sofia. She is JJs half sister, takes after her mom, brunette brown eyes tanned skin.

Not really proofread

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: smut (fingering) tough discussions, loss of life (Ward, Big John) Rafe can get a little mean, sorry Sofia lovers.

It’s been 18 months since you returned to the island. While you’ve stayed in touch with your half-brother JJ and the rest of the Pogues, you only saw them once in a while since you had made them travel to the mainland. You relished the escape from the chaos of the Outer Banks. Although you maintained a connection with your mother, it wasn’t until you decided to move in with her that you saw her again. You never imagined you’d come back, but hearing about the Pogues’ long-overdue success and newfound wealth drew you back to celebrate.

Once you arrived, you made an effort to keep a low profile. You headed straight to the old house you and JJ used to share. You couldn’t help but feel annoyed at how much he paid for it, but the joy of being back with your little brother overshadowed that irritation. Everything felt just as it had in the past, and you slipped seamlessly into your role as their ‘older sister.’

You found yourself speaking with Sarah down by the docks, where she asked how you were doing and how things were going—just the usual small talk. Then came the question you dreaded: “Have you seen him?” You stared out at the water, trying to push thoughts of him aside while enjoying your time with the Pogues. Subconsciously, you gripped your gold necklace by its 2 charms, one a ‘V’ initial and the other a baby rattle as you replied, “No, I haven’t, and I’m hoping to keep it that way.”

You hadn’t planned to stay long, just a week or two at most, with hopes of hanging out in the Cut, grabbing some groceries, and indulging in shopping at boutiques you never go to do before. You wanted to avoid anything that might draw attention to you. Living with your mom—who was now clean and remarried—had been a breath of fresh air. She shielded you from worry, allowing you to focus on taking care of what you needed to and building a decent savings while working a stable job, free from the burdens your father had imposed.

After chatting a bit more, you hugged Sarah and rejoined the group. They were deep in conversation about a bike race happening the next day. Glancing at JJ's bike in the yard, you felt a mix of confusion and admiration for his confidence. Although you hadn’t planned to join them for obvious reasons, he managed to convince you to come along. With such a big crowd, you thought you could easily blend in and suppress the anxious flutter in your chest at the thought of running into Rafe. Confident, yet now he’s all you can think about.

————————————

The last time you saw him was when you returned home from South America. While you were glad to see him, you dreaded the conversation about his father. After leaving the group at the airport, you headed to Tannyhill. As you entered, he greeted you with a warm hug, lifting you off your feet and showering you with kisses. He set you down, his face bright with a smile, contrasting sharply with the sadness that clouded your own.

Before you set out for South America to help John B with his dad, Rafe had stopped you just before boarding the plane. He promised he’d be a better person for you and wanted you to return from the trip to him. With that, he slipped one of his silver rings onto your finger and kissed you, giving a nod that it was okay to go.

There was always a powerful connection between you two, despite the class divide and his intense disdain for Pogues. You were the exception. Everyone adored you—both Pogues and Kooks alike—especially when you worked as the favorite bartender at the Country Club. You and Rafe bonded over the absence of your mothers and the shortcomings of your fathers. It was a match made in an unlikely paradise.

Though you were never officially together, largely due to his ego, you often went out publicly. Despite JJ and the group’s disdain, you convinced them—and yourself—that it meant nothing, even though deep down, you knew it did. The same could be said for Rafe with Topper and Kelce. No matter what happened, you both struggled to fully pull away from each other. Until that night.

You led Rate to the living room of Tannyhill and gently broke the news of his father's death. The color drained from his face, and his breathing grew rapid and heavy. In an attempt to console him, you placed your hand, adorned with his ring, on his arm, but he abruptly yanked it away and stood up, clearly overwhelmed. Before you could fully explain the circumstances surrounding the tragedy, Rafe erupted in anger. "This is what happens when people get close to someone like John B! Pogues are nothing but worthless pieces of shit, I trusted you all with him!" He lashed out, placing the blame on them as if Ward's insatiable greed hadn't played a role in his decisions. It was bewildering that he believed any of us wanted his father there in the first place. This wasn't any of ours fault.

"Rafe..." you pleaded, desperation lacing your voice. "I don't want to hear it! I can't even look at you right now. All those things I said to you, and you let this happen?! You got my father killed?!" His voice thundered with rage, his eyes dark and wild, veins bulging in his neck.

"You really think we wanted this? John B lost his dad too, you know that?! This was NEVER supposed to happen. I'm so sorry." But Rafe didn't want to hear your apology. "Get away from me! Don't come back! I never want to see you again," he shouted, the finality of his words slicing through you. You felt the tears streaming down your face, sorrow intertwined with disbelief. How could he say this after all the loving promises he had made before leaving? You sat in stunned silence for a moment, then carefully slid the ring off your finger and placed it on the coffee table. With a heavy heart, you turned and walked out of Tannyhill. Rafe didn't even glance back; he couldn't. Deep down, he knew he didn't mean any of it, but his anger always got the best of him.

————————————

As you emerged from your thoughts, everyone decided to head inside for the night, giving JJ some much-needed rest before the race the next day. You settled into your old bed, replacing the dust-covered sheets, and despite the whirlwind of emotions flooding your mind about being back, sleep quickly overtook you. Before long, JJ was shaking you awake, urging you to hurry and get ready.

When you arrived at the racecourse, you kept your distance from the group, sticking close to Cleo to avoid any potential confrontations.

JJ understood what was going on without needing to ask, and he respected your space; having you there, after all this time, was what mattered most to him. It was a relief, allowing you to watch from afar as Rafe interacted with Topper, their tension palpable from a distance.

As the race began, excitement surged through you. Ju took the lead, but then Rafe unexpectedly tapped him, sending both of them flipping over their bikes, igniting a chorus of cheers from the crowd.

Once the race concluded, you made your way towards the group. Topper walked by, not being able to help gloat saying something to Sarah. He then caught your eye, a smug smile on his face, but he chose not to say anything, merely walking away while shaking his head. You refused to let it bother you; Topper's opinions meant nothing, yet you knew that this would undoubtedly reach Rafe, and you hoped to slip away before that happened-at least, that was what you hoped.

As the crowd began to thin out, you felt exposed among the remaining Pogues and Kooks. Seeking a bit of refuge, you decided to head towards the shack that stored drinks and equipment for the track, needing a breather from the charged atmosphere. Just as you turned to leave, your eyes locked with Rafe's.

Your heart raced as a heavy silence enveloped you, and for a moment, neither of you could look away. In that instant, you noticed Sofia slip her arm through his and plant a kiss on his cheek. Another dark haired, brown eyes Pogue you knew from the cut and worked with the country club. He clearly had a type. She playfully pulled his attention back to her. Seizing the chance, you quickly resumed your path to the shack, desperate to put distance between yourself and the turmoil of emotions that Rafe always seemed to ignite within you.

You stepped into the shack, the sunlight streaming through the windows casting long shadows across the floor. Your heart raced with nervousness, and you weren't sure if you wanted to stay or leave. With your back to the door, you pressed one hand to your chest and the other to your forehead, trying to steady your breathing, when a low voice broke the silence.

"Hi."

You spun around to find Rafe's imposing silhouette framed in the doorway, his tall figure looming over you. "Rafe, please, just go. I don't need this. I'm here for my brother," you insisted, your voice unsteady. He chuckled, stepping further into the room, the warmth of his presence engulfing you.

"I've missed you, Maybank."

"Don't say that to me," you retorted, backing away as he moved closer. Soon, you found yourself pinned between him and the table, his blue eyes piercing through the dim light, sparkling with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. He studied you with an expression that was both longing and mischief, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before gently cupping your face.

It left you bewildered, and you instinctively tried to push him away. "A year and a half ago, you couldn't stand me, and now you're all over me. You can never make up your mind."

A smile crept across Rafe's face. "I could never hate you. I never hated you. I was angry, sure, but I took it out on you-and you never gave me a chance to apologize. You vanished, changed your number, and everyone who knew where you were would never tell me."

"Rafe, please just go," you pleaded, feeling trapped. But before you could protest further, he lifted you effortlessly and set you down on the table.

"I can't stay away from you. Please, let us have this moment," he murmured, his voice low and earnest. He leaned in, inhaling your familiar scent-the coconut and mango shampoo mixed with a hint of jasmine perfume. Then, without warning, he pressed soft kisses against your cheek. You let out a slight moan, unable to suppress the spark of electricity that coursed through you at his touch.

He smiled against your skin, his face inching closer to yours. Then, before you could register the moment, he pulled back slightly to gaze into your eyes once more before crashing his lips against yours. The shock of the kiss momentarily stunned you, but as the reality of what was happening sank in, you found yourself responding, moving your lips against his as if you had been waiting for this moment all along.

His hands began to explore your soft skin, gliding down your arms to intertwine his fingers with yours. You felt the familiar weight of the ring that once adorned your finger. He released your hand, gripping the nape of your neck and pulling you closer as his right hand traced down your torso. You wore a thin, cropped strapless top and a mini skirt. His fingertips teased the upper hem, grazing the tops of your breasts while he moved lower, grasping your waist as if afraid to let you go.

Both of you fought for breath, pulling away to look at each other, laughter escaping your lips. “I’ve been waiting to do this again for so long,” he admitted.

“Do you think your girlfriend would appreciate you saying that to me, Rafe?”

“What?”

“Sofia, the girl outside who kissed you on the cheek?” You sarcastically remind him. “Do you think she’d appreciate this? I may be many things, but I won’t be an accomplice to cheating.”

He sighed, “That means nothing to me. If anything, she’s just a distraction while you were gone. It’s always been you I’m meant to be with. I ruined it and forced myself to move on. And now you’re back.”

You bit your finger, feeling conflicted. “But—” Before you could interrogate him more, he captured your lips in another kiss, drowning out your thoughts. His hands ventured lower, teasing the hem of your skirt. Looking into your eyes for confirmation, you nodded, giving him permission to explore further. He slipped his fingers beneath your clothing, pressing against your core, and groaned as he felt your wetness.

He swirled his fingers before moving to your clit, rubbing in deep, rhythmic motions. You broke the kiss to moan, your head thrown back, exposing your neck and chest. He kissed a trail from behind your ear to the tops of your breasts, and then, with a practiced ease, slid a finger inside you.

You gasped, leaning into the crook of his neck. “That’s a good girl. You can take a little more, right?”

You whimper a soft yes, and he added a second finger, igniting a fevered kiss filled with passion and frustration. Despite your anger, desire overwhelmed you. He pumped in and out quickly, his thumb working your clit, sending you into a frenzy. Your breaths quickened, and you were amazed that no one could hear your moans.

“That’s right, baby. Let me make you feel good. Let me make it up to you. Come for me.”

As waves of pleasure washed over you, your head spun, heart racing. With a gasp, you reached your peak, surrendering completely as he rode out your orgasm, his unoccupied hand brushing your cheek. After a few lingering pumps, he withdrew, licking his fingers clean before adjusting your panties and gazing into your eyes.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said softly. You struggled to find your voice, lost in the moment until the door slammed open, revealing JJ. Rage simmered within you at the thought of a confrontation between him and your brother, but Rafe turned to you. “We’ll talk more another time, baby.”

You smiled and nodded, but as he walked out, JJ turned to you with a look of disgust. “What the hell did he want?”

“Nothing. We were trying to talk before you interrupted,” you replied. “I didn’t know he saw me come in.”

“Are you going to talk to him about her?”

“I don’t know, J.”

---

I hope you like it. My first of many stories. I decided to break it into parts. Stretch it out over the month before part 2 of the season drops.

[bandgie]

Quietly

hyunjin x fem!reader

warnings: MDNI 18+, DUBIOUS, fingering, cum eating (brief), public indecency, thigh groping, uni classroom setting,

1.3k words

Class had already started 30 minutes ago by the time he comes in. You hardly so much as spare him a glance when you hear the door open, but you're able to catch his long, dark hair. He's got a pair of headphones wrapped around his neck as he nonchalantly strides into the room, looking for an empty space.

The professor doesn't acknowledge his late student, attendance isn't a part of your grade after all, but you do notice how he chooses the chair right next to yours. 

It makes you slightly frown; the reason you sat far in the back corner was to avoid people, and there were plenty of other seats available. Still, you don't say anything as he pulls out his notebook, the words 'HWANG HYUNJIN' written in silver ink. 

You tear your eyes away from his belongings to focus on what the professor is saying. The quiet atmosphere of the classroom, both from the lack of students and the attending bored students, makes your eyes slightly drop as minutes pass. You can distantly hear the professor explain the difference between monism and dualism before you feel Hyunjin's leg brush against your own.

The fabric of his pants is rough when it makes contact with your bare legs. You jolt awake, briefly glancing at him before adjusting in your seat, and scooting a bit further away. Hyunjin doesn't mumble an apology, not so much as a sympathetic look as he keeps staring ahead. 

You brush it off, but it takes less than a minute for it to happen again. This time when you look at him, you stare in an attempt to get him to notice your slightly agitated expression, but he doesn't return the favor. You're stuck looking at his side profile, taking in how plump his lips are, the pretty curve of his nose, and his long eyelashes. 

You blink, swallowing the salvia that's pooled in your mouth before deciding it's better to ignore him. 

When you feel it again, it's his hand on your knee, warm and overly friendly. You jump in your seat, eyes widening as you force yourself to look at the projected notes in front of the room. Hyunjin's thumb moves in circles, rubbing your hot skin soothingly. 

Your body is stiff, back straight as his hand slowly trails higher until it's under your skirt, groping your thigh. His fingers softly dig into your plush flesh making your legs clamp together. 

You need to say something, anything. You didn't come to class with the hopes of being groped, but any and all words die in your throat. It's like your brain short circuits, unsure if the reason you're not saying anything is because you're too shocked or too aroused. 

Hyunjin's hand grips your thigh so he can pry it from your other leg, spreading them just a few inches. It's enough for his fingers to graze against your clothed core. Two of his fingers rub against your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you involuntarily widen your legs more. 

His middle and ring finger rub the peak of your clit earning a soft gasp from your lips. He dips them low and you lean back slightly to give him more access. Finally, you build the courage to look at him, eyes wide and mixed with emotions to see him smirking still facing the class. 

You're not sure if he can feel how wet you're getting, how hot your cunt feels against his fingers. Your hips begin to try and grind against his hand, but it's hard to move in a way where it's not noticeable. Hyunjin notices though, and places his hand on your thigh to keep you still. 

Don't move. He hadn't said it out loud, but you listen. Your ass glues itself to the seat and your rest your back on the chair, letting this stranger take full rein of your pussy. 

As if in reward, Hyunjin pulls your underwear to the side. Your legs tremble and you bite your lip when he makes contact with your bare sex. He must feel how wet you are now that fingers slide against your cunt. His movements are slow, terribly soft as you try not to whimper in your seat. 

You can feel yourself gushing. Your panties already got the worst of it, but you're hoping that your skirt remains dry by the end of class. Hyunjin doesn't seem to have the same worries as you. He spreads your arousal on the inner parts of your thigh and all over your pussy. As messy as he's making you, he manages to keep the slick sounds to a minimum.

His middle finger slides all the way down to your entrance before he slips it in. You squeak, immediately putting your hands to your mouth and fake coughing. Only a few students turn, but their bored expressions don't linger on your flustered face for too long. You're stuck covering your mouth, eyes slightly rolling to the back of your head while Hyunjin pumps his finger steady in you. 

Now you have something to clench down on, but at the price of being not-so-quiet. The professor is loud enough to cover the sounds of you being finger-fucked, but you're not sure how much longer you can last keeping the moans at bay. 

His palm bounces against your clit every time he thrusts in. You wish you could reach down to properly rub yourself, but you can't risk that. The build of your orgasm is slow, borderline edging as your legs shake. You want to cum. You want to cum so bad that drool has begun to leak from your mouth onto your palm. But Hyunjin doesn't pick up the pace, he doesn't go any harder. 

You can't ask him, it's far too risky, but you want to. You hope he finally looks at you so he can see your needy eyes, the pathetic drool on your fingers. If Hyunjin stood you up and bent you over the shared desk, you're sure you would let him take you in front of everyone if it meant you could finish quicker.

Instead, you let your orgasm slowly make its way throughout your body. Sending chills over your skin and making your stomach feel warm. White cream rings around Hyunjin's finger, a warning that he ignores. He pumps and brushes against your pussy each time.

You think you're going to be stuck just before your climax forever before he slides a second finger in. You finish promptly after feeling the slight stretch, your body going ridged and breathing hard. A low whine sounds from you, but no one seems to notice from an informational video playing that you didn't notice was up. It drowns out your labored breaths, your shaky inhales.

Hyunjin's finger pumps into you at a much slower rate, letting your cunt squeeze around his digit until you grab his wrist as a silent plea. It's now that he looks at you, a glaze over his dark eyes and lips twisted into a sick smile. 

"I think we can end class here," the professor's voice startles you from Hyunjin's terrifyingly attractive face. "I can see you all are bored and we can pick up next time when we meet." 

Papers rustle and backpacks unzip. Hyunjin slides his fingers from your sopping cunt, sticking them in his mouth with a cheeky grin as he puts away the notebook he never opened with his free hand. 

You're still trying to get your body to stop shaking when the professor makes his way to the back end of the room. You don't notice him until his hand places itself on your desk, and you look up at his cat-like eyes behind his glasses. 

"Professor Lee?"

He completely ignores your confused expression, "I'm going to need you and Mr. Hwang to stay behind. I couldn't help but notice you two being...disruptful."

[chilkookiepal]

Man In Suits

(Salesman x female!reader)

Summary:: you come across a stranger twice before agreeing to a game , you win big but what of the losses you take at unclarified stakes

warnings ! age gap ,stalking ,manipulation,mentions of married saleman ,detailed smut scenes, violence , there's more to come so i will edit this part<3

MNDI!

Part 2

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He is a nameless man but he knows you, he did his homework and so he knows all there is to know of you

YN LN

Age 22

Born to immigrant parents with no form of recorded identification, well you technically do but for an adult you are a pathetic case , stuck in a foreign country without a penny to your name, not a polite plan but your useless parents love you , right YN?

no?

Well then , you're fucked

It honestly doesn't matter because you are easily just another piece of disposable trash, a useless gullible thing and a walking target for all that could eat alive a weak thing as yourself but you might have had the angel of luck on your shoulder to have stood in that same store as him on that damned day

it was just something about you , you had too much potential, in fact you were so pathetic he could see you in the game uniform the moment he laid eyes on you , way before even knowing your name but he is and always has been a meticulous character so he stood, patiently, kept his face from recoiling as you nearly got on your knees to beg for the vacant position in a disgusting store without a clue that he was cracking his neck to slap the lights out of the store owner right behind that counter

Is this all you can get for yourself

he judged harshly with a sense of superiority as he observed you already making you a mental profile

He wonders if you even took time to research this sorry excuse of a store in all your desperate glory ,did you know of the two male companions that assisted this sleaze behind the counter in keeping the store dead as it was ,did you know that they could be far worse than the slimy pig who is just dying to fuck you, he tugs at your arm to let out with an even slimier tone

"I will call you on Monday, I promise"

and he winks

that was it ,all it took for you to leave your number there on a piece of paper

he isn't even looking for the fractures in humanity at this point and just like all the people who end up in that dumpsters , you too look like a victim of your own choices ,like trying to mix yourself with low lives who don't even try to hide the fact that they are salivating at the mounds of flesh that spill from the top of your dress

that is where he draws the line between himself and humans , humans like you and them , he is not rooted in excess and somewhere at the core of his values he really believes that his innate human desires do not control him

you have some tricks up your sleeves he will give you that , you really had not notice him stood behind you this entire time and like the user you are you turned to face him , a scowl taking over your features as you bump into him , you take a good look at him ,

Crisp suit and not a hair out of place, he looks put together , far handsome than any man in this hell hole but the briefcase in his hand makes you want to scoff for this particular part of town and you conclude  that the man is probably another pretentious bastard who belongs right where he's shopping ,staring for a second before you are pulled back to reality by the sound of your potential boss' voice telling you to make room for the customer making you mutter a simple sorry as you brush past the man whose face is housing a faux smile

Cold eyes that give nothing at all staying glued to yours , your face and never below your chin , that was easily a new with a man , especially in this part of town but then again he could just be a Jehovah's witness , those can be fun to mind fuck

you sway your hips in a hypnotic manner feeling the store owners eyes on you all the way through that exit , you were pathetic yes , not dumb...you knew that you were never going to get hired and if he called you back he would just be looking to get his dick wet

the patient man ,stood in his suit staring dead into the eyes of the man behind the counter with that faux smile that never meets his eyes, he lays flat a greeting to the man across him commanding the man's attention and when his eyes fall on the man in front of him it takes him a moment to respond but suited man with his practiced smile lays an offer just as the slimy man parts an inch of his mouth to speak

"Would you be interested in playing a game with me ?"

"What..." he scoffs as he puffs out his chest and gives an insulting look that could easily match his follow up words

"sir , a game ?...-''he lays his hand on the surface counter and laughs slightly ridiculed ''do you think this place runs on ''games '', mmhm? whatever makes you think i have the time to play some stu-''

''Seo Davis,''the salesman smiles bringing the man to a halt for a second , he watches him intently and waits for him to get ready to speak again and just like those games he enjoys so well , as  the guy opens is mouth to speak the suited man speaks ''age :42 ,You're drowning in debt... 2.3 million total  with 70 percent of your store losses going to the loan sharks ,and that is not even a brink of your financial problems Mr Seo, Creditors are circling, waiting to pounce.., but ten again by the time they get here this place will be a shell of what it never was -'' he quirks an eyebrow ''you know why? You're already so desperate, paranoid and defensive...'' he laid down his briefcase , clicking it open to the man's eyes '' You'll do whatever it takes to survive''

he can already see it in the man's eyes , the greed unhinged ''So, Mr. Seo, tell me... Are you ready to play a new game? One where the stakes are high, but the rewards are higher?'' with a gulp from the man , he picks the red envelope and the quiet store had for the first time in a while the loudest blend between ddakji slaps and the suited man's firm hand making contact with the store owner's face .

That was a month ago

you never got that call back .

over the course of that and this month you could feel the joys you had for life slip out of you as you sat through another gathering with your moter and the company of friends she kept , you had become another conversation , pitied and reduced to what your peers earned that you didn't , to your beautiful body that didn't necessarily go with your face , to your pickiness that left you single and unmarried for the rest of your life

you hid well , behind scowls and smart emarks back to your critiques but that night you felt crazy , your nails digging into your arm to draw blood and silence the mind , he had to admit , it wasn't easy to track down a person whose last records dated back to when they were just eleven years old , that was when your passport expired and you were still here

stuck in a country that gives you nothing at all

he had no choice but to find you , follow you around , you weren't that hard to tail once he abandoned finding you by the system , he could have found someone to track you for him but he was also always a perfectionist , preffering a certain degree of dilligence , if ou were going to end up in that dumpster he needed to verify that you were truly worthy of the title of honorary trash and that is how his research began , only three days after that store encounter

he had to work a little overtime and even then following you around had come to be the easiest routine he ever had to follow even though it at the cost of his personal fun time usually scheduled at local homeless parks , he didn't mind given thhat so far you hadn't come around dissapointing him

you had been so good for him , so easy to watch in a manner that your routines albeit random became of solace to him to watch you about in your wasted days

he could only trust that you would continue to do right by him and agree him to at least one game because even if you personally don't subscribe to any debt you still suffer the consequences of your parents incompetence

he knows that you know of their pending debts because you still go around getting slapped on the wrist with every chance you manage to drag your pathetic self out of bed , you are a defeated little mess and none of the burdens you carry on your shoulders are really yours , the game didn't discriminate

he studied you to be left with just another predictable case on his hands , he was right about you , he was confident in your potential but he drags a nervous breath as he stalks towards your slumped form in that train station's silver bench, crying

you were crying, good . he wonders if you'd look him in the eyes at least once , he had yet to see your eyes bloodshot and all watery , God , he needs to get a grip

,you don't see him coming , you only look to your left to see a familiar unsettling faux smile of a stranger you couldn't care less of , his signature sly smile reflecting back to you your vulnerability and desperation that he is about to exploit ,despite your attempts to protect yourself with a tough exterior you are surprisingly oblivious to the dangers that linger around you ,him included

he knows he has gotten you when you let that ounce of recognition keep you rooted in your seat with the escape of a sigh that leaves your chapping lipd

"hello miss-''

"No-no-no , I don't want jesus christ , infact if you come across him tell him that I don't want eternal life , I would hate to do this again , let alone forever''

you take a deep breath , closing your eyes briefly after you little melt down

he couldn't care less, you already strike him as an abrupt little thing , your vulnerability does that for you , you are simply defensive , if he had been here for the reasons your impulses accuse of him maybe he would have had to persist harder but then again he has so much better for you , his faux smile deepening as he questions

''are you okay?''

you divert your eyes from him looking at your hands that tremble slightly , he doesn't really like to waste his time but he dangles a tissue in font of you , this one is from the kindness of his heart and he gives you the time to collect yourself before laying out the big apple in that low smooth tone that should aid you in trusting him

"would you like to take a break from your worries and play a little game with me ? ''

''game?''

the briefcase clicks open the same time as you whip your head towards him ,a briefcase you have held at such harsh judgements laid open before you , a neatly organised compartment consisting of two square , envelopes? blue and red , cash , loads of cash...you should be excited , intrigued at the sight of the cash but just below it stares back at you a revolver , loud and shiny

when your glossy eyes go to meet the suit man your nose unintentionally scrunches at that casual smile of his , unsettling as ever as he speaks ''you could win really big and do away with your family debt in just three games , Miss YN-shii'' the man operates at such a natural robotic pace which just poses another blazing red flag in your interaction ,you know better than to indulge this stranger , nothing of him calls you to trust him but it's at the back of your mind that he made use of your name when he lays open between you two that briefcase of his , you proceed to ask gulping hard at the stacks of cash

''what kind of game?''

he smiles smugly holding two colored envelopes between his nimble fingers

''amongst these two envelopes , one contain the precise amount of the money owed by your parents and the other contains a penalty ,which one do you choose Miss YN?''

I haven't agreed to playing yet-

the thought is far from finished when he notes to you that time is ticking and you fold so sweetly under pressure , the meek little thing you are , ocd and eager to please would be caught dead before ever missing a deadline let alone disappoint anyone at all and so the salesman pouts

you are impulsive under pressure , you note as your hand flies to the blue envelope , it's bright that's your humble reason as the man's eyebrow shoots up , unreadable prompting a sight out of you as you await promised penalty while he opens the envelope

''oh -"

"what's the penalty " you ask voice barely above a whisper

the man's smile grows wider as he reveals to you a small paper that has you rolling your eyes

"Seems like you have won temporary reprieve Miss Yn, penalty has been reprieved...for now, you are left with two chances "

the envelopes change and you pick again, blue again and you honestly don't know what you are still doing here but perhaps you are at your wits end with all the doors shut to your face, you throw caution to the wind as you recall being rejected at a local strip club , they were blunt telling you that you were not what the locals pay to see , you scoffed and you have zoned out

The mans face turns serious and, you look angry , almost missing out on the fact that you won

"Congratulations Miss Yn ," in your face is a card written exactly 800k won and a bank card attached at the back, there is a crease in your eyebrows , questions swim there, doubt and suspicion too

"how do I know that you are mot just bullshitting me  , what if none of this works?"

he slides a card towards you , triangle, circle, square and a phone number printed on the back

It's strange, too easy and you don't believe in angels or easy luck not for you, especially not for you of all people

"I give you 24 hours to bask in your victory Miss Yn, the details of your penalty remain on hold until then"

you are confused , cat really got your tongue and you stay puzzled even as the man bids you farewell

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ + _ _ _ _ _ _ + _ _ _ _ _ +-------+_ _ _ _+-------+_ _ _ _ _

you had clutched tight the envelope from the strange man for the rest of that night , barely slept a wink looking him up on the internet , it had started with the card of shaped symbols which lead you to preschool stuff , you so badly wanted to believe that maybe he was a preschool teacher but your wide awake senses rejected the idea so greatly your nose bled at 2am in the darkness

, you tried with the number as you further spiraled into desperation....NOTHING. When the morning came your feet carried you back to that train station , you occupied the very same seat as you had that day , you waited before you were seeking him , trails that lead you back to that store , or what you think to once have been a store , ashes and broken glass residing there, you seeked your surroundings for a strange yet familiar face until a part of you is convinced that he is just a fragment of your imagination , a byproduct of the immense stress and disappointment of you daily life

you wander and wander until you are stood in front of an atm , fucking around to find out , and find out you did.

your father's bank balance reflected back at you sums and amounts you would never even dream of ,800k as the man had said and you still couldn't believe it.

you could have just enjoyed it but you wanted the catch , a fault , anything to tell you that you were deluded,

you went home , you often thought about what you'd say you to your parents who sheltered you with all they could manage as you entered the threshold of your home , a tought that goes away as soon as you meet the joyed expression of your father who is somehow confident that he won a quarter of the lottery , he wasn't far off as it all felt surreal only , as he showed you a dramatic text from an unsaved contact

congratulations mr LN on your lottery win of 800k , your victory has been deposited into your account , enjoy~!!

you felt scared , you wondered if you had been baited to some illegal scheme that could lend not you but your father in prison

you prayed not as you went from confused to making excuses to deciding that you needed to contact the suit man , you dialed quickly the number on the card , it rang before a feminine voice greeted on the other side "hello, who's this?"

the crease of your eyebrows could only get deeper as you frowned

"Hello , may I please talk to the man...''you cringed at your tone and the ridiculousness of the situation , the realisation that you didn't even know his name ,''he wears suits and carries around a briefcase-" beep

the line disconnects before you are done and you try the call again, double checking each digit before pressing call , this time the woman get's to talk before you do

"I will pull your tongue out and wrap it around your neck until you die if you ever call my husband again.''

she didn't even wait for your response before cutting off the line

third time is a charm , you seem to be blocked as you are immediately rejected before calling it a day , not entirely though given that your desperation was venturing on the lines of paranoia ,it was a joyful day in your home , your father still convinced that he won the lottery which meant that you got no thanks at all for your efforts , not to be mistaken , you appreciated the heat of having to explain yourself or the mysterious money being removed off your shoulders but a teeny tiny list of reasons overwhelm you , for starters...was it a coincidence that the money had gotten to your father as a simple run into the luck of lottery, your efforts entirely discarded , you technically didn't have to do much for the money which is what posses the biggest threat to you right now , despite wanting to tell yourself that you won this money fair and square the rationed part of yourself cannot simply accept that life would just be so...giving? to you of all people...what was all tat about a pending penalty?

it's nearly 24hrs since  you last came across that man,' would he have shown up if you hadn't gone to the bank ?

a lot of things were unclear as you laid awake for the second night in a row ,you needed answers that the chat assistant in your pocket could not answer , and so you slipped on your  pair of slippers  , you just wanted to clear your head and that path lead you to the opposite end of the subway from where you sat yesterday , even at these late hours exhausted people occupy the place , probably people with jobs to return from, you wonder if some may even be going to thier jobs and somewhere between your thoughts you get lost, your fingers becoming the object of your focus on your lap amidst the quiet noise of a busy station

you are strangely calmed by the waves of trains and the chaos of your mind is muted until the waves are blending with something else , clapping?

You lift up your eyes and you don't have to search far because right across you through the windows of a train stands a confident suited man who throws a familiar red envelope to the ground, you quickly realise that he is flipping the blue envelope on the ground before proceeding to slap the man across him, hard and fast

It's natural that your eyebrows crease as the man is handed some cash before the suit man is leaving up the stairs

you are even more skeptical of him but you still run after him as soon as the train departs and you risk your life with the hopes of possibly getting some questions answered

It's not really a surprise by the time you reach the stairs there is absolutely no one but you keep going, in your head you think you will just run into him and the idea makes your palms sweaty. The man carries a gun, he slaps people and.. -he's turning a corner down the sketchy passage

every part of you, rational is screaming at you but your feet still work very fine so you jog after him, he must have impaired hearing because you heave painfully and your slippers basically slap the ground beneath your feet loud enough to reach him, as you reach the corner you scan briefly before he's right there, he suddenly appears in front of you under the flickering exhausted lights and the familiar scent of his expensive cologne overwhelms your senses

at the first eye contact you make with the man you bow your head , contemplating your decision to case after him , you hadn't even prepared a what you would say to him and now all your senses were screaming at you to turn back

you have to talk yourself into staying rooted as he takes slow steps towards you ,the distance between you two is becoming smaller by the minute and you are actually getting scared because because the summer rain hits you without warning and his faux smile is nowhere to be seen tonight in place of his faux smile is a darkness occupying his eyes

you don't know if it could save your life but you bow and issue out a greeting

he does take a halt ,right in front of you , you are preparing your next words when he reaches for your cheek ,eyes deep and set on yours as he slowly backs you against the wall , the pad of his thumb caresses the area and you are highly aware of him and everything around him

you wonder if you look as brave as you intend to present to te man in front of you getting on your tippy toes to glance behind him and letting the fact that it's only the two of you here sink just as you decide that you are allergic to silence , the one he is presenting to you anyway

"do you live around here , ajushi?'' you continue to avoid his eyes looking around the area just to distract yourself from the fear bubbling beneath the surface

"I don't''

he doesn't beat around the bush as he pops out the biggest question

"why are you following me? YN"

the hand on your cheek trails slowly down until i's at your neck where his rough thumb massages in meditated motions on the column of your throat ,

''I wasn't-'' the hold on your neck turns not so gentle yet not enough to disrupt your breathing pattern , it's a warning just as the words that follow up

''I have an idea , you answer my questions , for every answer that I don't like i add pressure to your precious little neck

-with that , be mindful of what you answer miss yn, '' he loosens his hold slightly finally flashing you a formal smile , nowhere near friendly even with his full set of teeth on display

''so Miss YN , have you been following me?"

his eyebrows shoot up in an expression that makes you think for a second that he is actually adorable , only the hand on your neck makes you start talking

"'I tried to call you ,on the number you gave me but a woman answered and told me that I would be dead if I ever called her husband again"

he hums just as his hand tightens , you can for a second taste the faux courage exit you system as you try to gulp down the sheer panic bubbling up

he shakes his hand side to side ''that just won't do YN-

why are you following me ?''

''I wanted to thank you , my father recieved the money but I couldn't find you anywhere so I went to the train station for some air and then i saw you- you can't stop there ,he is so close to cutting your air flow

''I wanted to talk to you and ask about the penalty and why my father is convinced that he won the lottery , you walked too fast and I couldn't call you so I ran , I didn't mean to follow you''

you did it again , your frustrated meltdown thing and now you were crying , he should feel sympathy

but fuck you look far better than he imagined you would with your eyes all watery ,he's pushing and at the sight of your hands shooting up to where he clutches your neck adding pressure by the passing second you become quite aware of the nearest news headline

"woman , 22 found in the nearest ditch-''

"would you like to come with me or return home to live in the devastating shadow of the peanuts that your brother earns , hmm YN?''

he let's go of you and you cough violently shooting a glare in his direction as he reaches a hand towards your face swiping a tear before sucking the section of the thumb

you shake your head no and you expect him to be...well.. himself about the matter but he simply turns away to leave you in the pouring rain teeth chattering , you are not even sure where you are so you do the next dumbest thing , block his path

"t-t-take me - with you''.

[thebluester2020]

[RE4] Kinktober Day 11: "In Heat"

Summary: Livestock guardians were rare enough, and training them was no easy feat either. But...being in a bind, you decided to take your chances and adopt one! Only, you weren't warned that his heats would be so...intense.

Warning(s): Perv!Reader (She watches Leon fuck his pillow), Yearning(Leon wishes to fuck the reader but doesn't), Dog!Hyrbid Leon, Whiny! Leon, Begging, Masturbation (Both on the reader's and Leon's side obv), Thigh-fucking, Leon low-key being a horn dog.

Side Note(s): Lol I was going to do Lycaon (again) from ZZZ but— the fact I haven't dedicated any Kinktober days to my favorite baddie Leon Kennedy yet is blasphemous, so here I am <33

Searching for a good livestock guardian dog was hard.

Costs aside, training them and getting them used to the farm animals was no easy task. It took a lot of patience and practice over the years and even then? The dog wasn't promised to be absolutely perfect! In hindsight though, you knew you should've been on the lookout the second you had begun buying the necessary resources for your farm. After all, it seemed like just yesterday when you were still waiting for your house to be built, and now? You were only a month away from moving!

The clock was ticking, you needed a guardian dog and you needed one now. No training required.

Which was how you ended up where you are today, at a dog hybrid adoption center, located in the center of your small town. It was a homey place, plenty of space for the hybrids to wander around, and even a dedicated meeting area for them and their potential owners to get to know one another. At first, you felt almost...strange, for considering a hybrid for your farm.

They were called "hybrids" for a reason. They were human but...with animal features and some tendencies here and there, you probably wouldn't even have been here today if your friend hadn't convinced you to at least check it out and so far? You were having no more luck than you were shopping the market for a traditional dog.

"Do you have any hybrids that are good with livestock? Guarding, maybe?" You asked the front desk worker after another conversation with a hybrid cut short.

You weren't searching for a puppy, they had too much energy and you were certain that wouldn't bode well with the animals! An older dog would have been preferable. "Still no luck?" The woman said with an apologetic smile as she searched through the system.

You shook your head with a sigh. "I'm moving in a month, I want to hopefully find a dog today and bring him home soon so I can get him or her used to me."

The woman didn't respond for a beat or two, her eyes narrowed in focus as she searched and searched...until her eyes brightened and she turned the computer screen towards you. "Leon may be a good fit for you! His background is in government, very calm and dependable." As you looked at the picture, you were shocked that no one had picked him yet. good traits aside, he was handsome and you knew that there was a market for people who preferred to use their hybrids for lovers rather than pets.

Not that you planned to use him in that way of course.

"Is he available to talk now?" You asked.

"He will be tomorrow! We try to give our shyer residents more time to know when they want to be spoken to."

You nodded your head in understanding as the worker passed you a few documents to sign as well as choosing a time when you wanted to talk. You suddenly felt nervous, intimidated even! When you looked at Leon Kennedy's profile, he appeared dangerous and you weren't just talking about the deadly scowl on his face nor the fact that he was a Malinois hybrid. His eyes were a deep baby blue, combined with his dirty blonde hair and his hardened features as well as his muscular frame.

You weren't able to deny that he was handsome.

But...you could worry about keeping your mind out of the gutter once you talked with him.

. . .

The next day came by quick. The second you woke up, you were already getting ready to meet with your potential hybrid and you wanted to make a good first impression! You donned a cute but professional style and even took the time to bring gifts as well as had photos of your current apartment and new home already saved to your phone. You wanted to make sure all your cards lined up to having Leon accept you as his owner.

And...you thought you were doing good so far, hopefully. As you currently sat in front of him, his expression was unreadable as his eyes flicked from the photos of your home that you had given him as well as the treat basket you brought along with you.

"You want me as a livestock guardian?" He questioned.

"Yes!" You chirped. "The animals aren't there yet but they will be pretty soon, about a week or two after I move in."

When he didn't respond, you added on a question. "Are you...good with livestock?"

He slowly nodded his head. "I can learn, it can't be any harder than guarding people."

"Your profile mentioned you were in the government. What did you do?"

"Classified missions." He curtly responded.

"...Like?"

He scoffed at your pushiness. "The word classified is there for a reason."

"Seeing as you're still so loyal, you must've been a good one." You complimented. You tried to withhold a chuckle at the sound of Leon's tail thumping against his chair. "Why did you leave?"

"I—" You tilted your head when he paused, the sight of his cheeks beginning to tint pink a little also making your suspicions go up before his shoulders eventually slumped and he sighed. "It's not important, I was simply no longer fit for the missions they were assigning me." His ears flattened at the memory of him being dismissed. For the last few years since that day, he tried to convince himself that it was for the best but...he was used to being active, constantly on the move and doing things. Trading that lifestyle for a quiet and inactive one here in the shelter?

Although the place was nice, it wasn't for him!

Life on a farm could give him some movement, some purpose again.

"Well, I think you'll be a perfect fit for my farm! If you want to actually come with me that is."

Leon looked you up and down, you appeared hard-working and stern. But kind and gentle, it also helped that you were a pretty thing to look at. After being in the government for so long, so many missions where he'd seen the most unimaginable horrors that no normal person should ever see...it was nice to know that he'd be able to look at you all day, working for you.

So, he nodded his head, his tail once again beginning to wag at the sight of your smile.

You grinned. "We'll get along just fine, you and me!"

. . .

And get along fine, the both of you did.

It turns out that there was a reason why Leon wasn't adopted. His ruts were insatiable.

A week after adopting him, you and he had spent the entire time decorating the room you had dedicated to him! You had learned that before he worked for the government, he used to be a guard cop (the puppy photos he had shown you were absolutely adorable might you add) and he was a fan of old-school music groups. You had struck gold with him, you thought. He was a hard worker and was relatively quiet! Although his jokes were a little dry and he had so many cop one-liners that you couldn't even begin to count them all.

You liked Leon.

And that like towards him...you wouldn't deny that it began to inch towards a more romantic direction, especially after what you were currently witnessing tonight.

"F-Fuck..." Through the crack of Leon's door, he was currently rutting against his pillow feverishly. It was bunched up underneath him, his claws threatening to tear the sheets underneath him with how hard he was rutting his dick back and forth on the pillow.

You should've turned away, you should've ignored that ache that started to build up in the pit of your stomach. It was inappropriate of you to watch him like some type of pervert! And you almost did until...you heard your name. "Y-Y/N..." Leon panted out, you could see the light of the moon shine on the hint of drool that began to dribble out the side of his mouth. He sucked in his bottom lip as he threw his head back with a low growl. "Fucking cute owner..." He whined. "I-If only you would help me..." His words were so whispered that you almost missed it.

The ache in your panties was growing near unbearable, and even as every rational part of your brain told you to keep your hand away from your throbbing clit, to go back to bed and act like you hadn't seen or heard anything. You continued to stay, soon clasping a hand around your mouth in order to withhold the moan that threatened to escape from your lips. Especially as your fingers began to circle around your clit, the aching growing more and more by the second as you continued to listen in on Leon's moans.

"Fucking hell—" Suddenly Leon pushed the pillow away from him before he sat on the bed, his hand quickly rushing to his cock as he started to fist his length, the slick sounds of his hand moving along his cock aiding in your own masturbation as you began to finger yourself to the pace of his hand movements.

And in the process, you imagined what his cock would feel like inside your sex. You imagined the veins along his cock rubbing against your inner walls, the sound of his rough growls against your ear whilst the lewd sounds of his pelvis meeting your ass rang throughout the air. "Y' like that owner?" You heard Leon mutter to himself before his curses steadily turned into moans.

You could tell he was close by the way he began to buck into his own hand, causing you to speed up your own ministrations as it quickly became a struggle to withhold your moans. Until a squeak accidentally escaped your lips, and Leon's ear flicked to the door before his pants began to slowly come to a stop.

Yet his hand didn't. "Naughty girl..." Leon said in your direction.

You quickly tore your hand from your underwear with a gasp, but before you could walk away. Leon stopped you with a sharp growl. "Leaving so soon after watching me fuck my own hand? And while you were flicking your clit." He snapped. "Get in here and help me out!" He ordered.

You hesitated for another moment or two before you slowly inched the door open with an embarrassed blush on your face. However, your hybrid had little concern for your embarrassment at the moment before he suddenly rose to his feet and grabbed ahold of your arm, and forced you to sit on the bed. His eyes were trained on you as he then pushed you gently to lay on your back whilst he lifted your legs.

You softly moaned at the feeling of his hard cock pressing against your ass briefly before he took your chin into his hand. "...Can I?"

You heard the desperation in his voice and how hard he was trying to reel it in. "I just wanna fuck your thighs, promise. Nothing else, just that." He assured you, his hips unconsciously bucking against the back of your thighs. And the second you nodded your head "yes", he let out a deep moan when he finally pushed himself between your plush thighs. "Been thinkin' 'bout this for a week..." He began to babble.

"You and this sexy body," He moaned. "Made my rut come early..." You whined when his hand began to feel up and down your body, all before his hand began to rub at your clit. "Clearly you've been thinkin' about me too, huh?"

You nodded shamelessly. "T-Tried not to..." You admitted with a whisper. "Didn't—oh...—want to make you uncomfortable..."

"With having a slutty owner who likes the idea of her personal dog fucking her needy cunt? Oh no baby, quite the opposite..." Then he leaned down to press his soft lips against your own, the feeling of your lips on his own after so many previous nights of imagining them on his cock...he couldn't help but begin to fuck your thighs with more fervor. "Couldn't get you out of my mind." He mumbled against your lips.

Leon's other large hand then left your waist to begin fondling your breasts, taking more care to give one of them more attention than the other as he began to flick your nipple. Leon's body was practically molding with your own body as he continued to kiss you, his technique becoming more sloppy along with his thrusts. "C-Close..." He whispered, tearing his lips from your own when you lightly smacked him for air.

You moaned. "M-Me too." You responded, a needy whine leaving your lips when he began to speed up his rapid flicking of your clit. Your increased moans and whines were going straight to his cock, nothing but lust and adoration for you as both his owner and the woman he now wanted to breed coursing through his veins as he felt your pussy twitch as his cock rubbed against it. "Cumming!" You just barely managed to get out before your eyes slammed shut and your mouth opened in a silent scream.

Leon wasn't too far behind as a string of curses fell from his lips, his hips bucking against your ass a few more times before he stilled and you felt strings of his hot cum shoot out and onto your stomach and chest. The two of you breathed heavily, the lust in the air hot and unignorable as you both came down from your highs. With a shakey moan, however, Leon slipped from your thighs as he looked over you.

Already he could feel himself getting hard. Something that you quickly took notice of. "A-Already...?" You said tiredly.

He nodded his head, his tail beginning to wag eagerly as he gently began to part your legs. "You're the reason why my rut started early...take responsibility."

It seemed you were in for an even longer night further taking care of your new hybrid...

[freakyformula]

First time with the Lion

Summary: Reader is scared to lose her virginity but Max is the best boyfriend and helps her along the way.

Writers comment: The amount of hours I've put into this fucking fic...

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, swear words, oral (both receiving), loss of virginity, creampie, google translated dutch

Word count: 4,4k

You stood outside Max's apartment, waiting for him to come home. You had forgotten your keys and he was rushing back from the gym to let you in. You told him that you'd go back to your apartment to get the keys but Max was having none of it. You and Max had been seeing each other for a year by now, and he had given you the keys to his home a couple of months into dating.

"I'm sorry for taking so long, I ran as fast as I could." He pants as he sees you when he steps out of the elevator.

"Max, it's been like 5 minutes, it's not like I'll die just because I have to wait for you." You mutter to him while you rub his arm.

He opens the door for you, kisses your forehead, and returns to the gym to complete his daily workout.

You lounge on the sofa for a bit before you feel your stomach grumbling. You walk to the kitchen and realise that the fridge is full of food, unusual for Max, considering he doesn't cook, you think.

It's already dusk and you've started preparing dinner for the two of you when he gets home.

As soon as Max sees you in the kitchen his lips form into a wide smile. He walks up to you and hugs you from behind.

"Hmmm, smells good. What are you making?"

"Penne alla vodka with chicken." You state, suspecting that Max didn't understand one word you just uttered. You smirk at him, "Pasta with tomato sauce, basically."

In response, he nods and continues to observe you while you work on the pasta.

"So… What do you want to do tonight, Y/N?" He suddenly asks.

"I was thinking we could stay in?"

"Sounds good to me…" He grabs your hips and presses himself against you, tickling your face and neck with light kisses. You can feel his hard-on through the fabric of your clothes.

While having supper, you make plans for the next racing weekend. You were not accustomed to the busy paddock, but Max was. Even though you had attended a few races and hidden in the grandstands with other fans, it was all new to you. It was important to maintain a low profile because you and Max had not yet gone public.

When you're done, and as you're finishing up the dishes, you feel his touch behind you again.

"Touchy today, are we?" You ask.

"Hmmmm…" He hums.

And with that, he easily lifts you up on his shoulder, carries you to the sofa, and lays you down with the utmost care.

He places himself between your legs as you part them for him, and he lets out a barely audible groan. He looks you deep in the eyes as he leans in to kiss you.

He begins stroking and kneading his way down your arms, chest, hips, and hands as soon as you start making out.

Max knows you're a virgin, you had told him when he took your makeout session too far once. Turns out he had already assumed you were because of the purity ring you were wearing.

Before you met Max, you'd been focusing on your studies, which meant little time for anything else. Your family was also extremely religious and anything considered sexual was forbidden before marriage.

While you and Max had done some stuff already, like seeing and touching each other while naked, you hadn't really gone further than that, the reason being your inexperience.

"Is this okay?" Max asks as he supports himself on his elbow, admiring your beauty only a few centimeters away from you. You could feel his breath on you, and he was panting heavily.

You spend the rest of the evening cuddling on the sofa, later moving to the bed to finish an episode of your favorite series.

In the days after, Max couldn't keep his hands off you. After that night, you waited for the opportunity to ask him about his intentions. It seemed as though the nature of the relationship had changed. Max had planned a romantic dinner at one of Monaco's top restaurants, followed by a stroll around the harbour to watch the sunset.

You sat on the balcony of the restaurant and enjoyed the food and each other.

You were wearing a floral midi dress and he was rocking a pair of beige shorts and a blue button-up.

When you considered yourself done, you slowly started walking towards the harbour.

The evening was beautiful, with the sky shining in all sorts of different colours.

You inhaled deeply and gathered your thoughts. The nerves were almost getting to you. Max flung his arms over you to try and warm you up, so he must have noticed how much you were shaking.

"Max… I need to ask you something." You begin, "About last week, did something happen that night when we cuddled? You've been acting strange ever since."

He turns to look at you and takes a deep sigh. You can see his face frown, seemingly deep in thought.

"Y/N, you know I love you. All I want is to treat you well and avoid causing you harm. But lately, you've turned me on so badly, and I'm afraid that expressing how much I need you would just harm you. He glances up at you, relieved to have voiced what was on his mind.

"Oh, Max…" You lean in, give his lips a peck, and rest your head on his arm, happy with the fact that he'd confessed his feelings.

"I don't want to rush, it's not like that at all. But I can't keep pretending like I'm not turned on by you." Max admits.

You look up at him and smile, "That makes two of us."

The look he gives you is so hilarious, it makes you giggle.

"D-do you mean that…?" He asks with big eyes.

"Yes… I have a suggestion, why don't we go back to your place and you can show me just how turned on you are?"

The whole walk home, Max holds your hand tightly, almost as if he's afraid of losing you on the way. As soon as he closes the door behind you, his lips are on yours. Max stumbles out of his shorts and you unbutton his shirt, and he helps you with your dress.

When it touches the ground and you're standing in only underwear before him, you cross your arms, afraid and uncomfortable. Max softly grabs your hands and softly bends your arms open, letting him see you fully.

"You're exquisite, Y/N. Never claim otherwise. Can I touch you?" He carefully asks.

You nod and he starts by sliding his hands up your arms, to your collarbones, and down to your chest. You let out a small whimper when you feel him move down to your hips.

The sounds of your family telling you about waiting for marriage and the importance of abstinence rang in your ears and you panicked. You back off and leave Max confused. He quickly makes his way up to you and holds your face.

The same thing had happened before; you desperately wanted to take the next step with Max, confident that he was your soulmate, but your conscience would not let you.

"It's okay, Y/N. We don't have to go further than this." He says, hoping to cheer you up.

"But… I want to. I want you."

"Then what's stopping you? I'm here."

And it's as if all the morals you've ever stored in your body melted away.

You felt ready, even if it would take time to get used to this. Anything sexual being sinful was all you knew of growing up.

You lean in and kiss his lips softly, daring to touch his shoulders. As the kiss deepens, you move your hands to his chest, and down to his stomach. You feel him mimicking your movements, giving you control that way. Without breaking the kiss, he starts to steer you towards the bedroom.

Once you reach the second-story staircase, Max picks you up into his strong arms, causing you to yelp. Max lays you down on the bed with care and follows, placing himself on top.

"How far are you ready to go, Y/N?" He asks.

"I don't know yet, but I'm okay so far. Just keep going."

"Can I take these off?" He asks, gazing down at the bra and panties.

You nod.

"First off, words. You need to use words for this to work, it's for our safety and well-being." He explains.

"Okay… y-yes." You stutter.

"Good girl." He smiles at you and starts placing kisses on your naked skin, that nickname making you absolutely feral.

He starts peppering kisses on your mouth and works his way down to your neck, and further to your covered breasts. He unbuckles your bra and helps you with the straps. The hunger in his eyes when he sees your bare chest is something you've never felt before. He dives down and begins sucking on the sensitive peaks.

Where his mouth isn't, his hands are, caressing you. You let out a moan and Max follows your lead. He lets out a moan and looks at your lust-filled eyes. He takes it as a sign to continue further down. When he grabs your panties and slides them down, you clench your legs together in order to avoid exposing yourself. Max, of course, doesn't accept that and opens them up again. He gasps at the sight, and bends down, placing kisses along your inner thighs.

"Can I touch you here?" He checks in.

"Yes, please."

"Good girl." He chuckles and leans into your heat. He dives in and starts licking, sucking, and teasing your entrance. He soon adds his hands to the mix, with his fingers flicking your clit while his tongue works the rest of your pussy. You feel your orgasm building up quickly, you're feeling ecstatic but your parents lecturing is pestering your mind and you can't help but whimper and move back from his care.

"I-I'm scared." You admit, on the brink of tears.

Max tuts, lies down next to you and holds you while you calm down again.

"I know this is a big step for you, Y/N, but you're doing so well, and we won't go any further than you're ready to."

He rubs your shoulder languidly until you let him know that you're ready again. He goes down again, but this time, he only uses his fingers.

"Does this feel good, mijn schat?" He checks in.

"Oh shit, don't stop." You force out, bucking your hips and lifting your legs over his shoulders.

He works your clit like a pro, and you feel an unfamiliar knot in your stomach.

What is happening? You thought. Before you know it, the knot snaps, and you scream out the first orgasm of your life.

You pant heavily and look at Max, who smirks down at you, clearly pleased with his work.

"So that's what it feels like…" you say.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"Honestly, I've never been better. Thank you, Max."

A couple of weeks pass and you repeat the same routine every night you spend together. He's giving you at least one orgasm per day.

You started feeling selfish, yearning to give him the same treatment back but not knowing how to bring it up with him.

You wait patiently for him to make the move, but he never asks. Being the gentleman he is, he doesn't want to pressure you.

"Max, tonight I want to make you feel good too." You say as he makes his way down your stomach to your already sopping core.

He slowly looks up at you in shock. Never could he believe that you'd be comfortable pleasuring him this soon. You could see the outline of his manhood in his briefs as he sat up.

"Are you sure about this? You don't have to, I'm enjoying giving you pleasure and I don't mind keeping it that way." He asks, but behind that caring gaze is a look that you can't place, it's like a fire out of control.

"No." You say as you grab his wrist. "I want to do this."

"Okay. Let's switch positions." And with that, you find yourself on your knees.

"Ready? You can start by touching me, and getting used to the feel and how I react to your touch."

"Like this?" You ask as you take his member into your hands, feeling and studying him, and rubbing up and down his length.

"Yes, Y/N. Just like that, oh god, don't stop."

When you touch the head of his throbbing and leaking dick he lets out a moan.

"Do you like that?" You smile up at him.

"God, yes." He responds.

You continue stimulating him with your hands, and when he announces that he's close you bend down, and give the tip a lick. He's bucking his hips at this point, desperate to come.

"Don't stop, Y/N, please." And you continue pumping him with your hands and you take the head into your mouth, sucking down on it. With each bob of your head, you take more of him into your mouth.

"Where do you want my seed?" He asks desperately.

With your mouth full of dick you only look up at him, and when he comes a few seconds later, he pulls you off him, but leaving you at close proximity. He pumps his cock which starts twitching and splurting out white streaks of cum. You've placed your face under him and feel the warmth on your face as he pumps out every last drop of his fluid.

"Y/N, that was fantastic, you're fantastic! Such a good girl for me…" He praises you as he cleans the sticky mess off your face.

Miami.

You'd spend your time at the grandstands as usual, all to avoid getting associated with your boyfriend. You didn't feel like it was time to make your relationship public yet, Max would love to to make your love for each other official, but you didn't want to because of the tendency to get called out as a gold digger by the so-called fans.

It was warm, insufferably warm. You wore a flowy white sundress but were still sweating.

You were there with the other fans to cheer Max on as he drove past the checkered flag in the first place and yelled his name when he stood on the podium and heard the Dutch anthem as you had many times before, both at home but also when you'd attended races before.

Max and you shared the hotel room, much to your pleasure. You arrived before him, because of the interviews and briefings he had to do after the race. After you stepped into the room, you undressed and threw yourself onto the bed, naked. You were sticky and sweaty from the warm and humid weather. Getting yourself freshened up felt fitting, so you poured yourself a bath and sank in. The cooler water felt like heaven as you scrubbed your body clean.

You had no idea how long you stayed in that bath, but it must have been quite long because when you were in the process of drying off, you heard Max arriving.

"I'm in here!" You yell as you see Max peeking in through the door.

"Hi, my love." He tuts as you try to cover yourself up.

"Congrats on the win!" You smile at him.

"Thank you, schat. Now, what do you say about a special celebration?"

Slowly, he grabs the towel and lets it fall to the floor. His breath hitches when he sees your naked body.

"Ohhh… This is exactly what I was looking forward to when I walked up to the room."

For what seems like an eternity, you stand there while Max simply takes in your beauty. You cross your arms in order to cover yourself up.

"No, no, baby. Let me see you."

You both take deep breaths as you process your current experience. With each passing second, you can feel your core becoming increasingly hot.

"Max… Need you."

"Do you now?" He asks, with admiration in his eyes.

He steers your body towards the bedroom without breaking eye contact, analysing your facial expression as if he's afraid to accidentally overstep a boundary.

"You decide what we do today, liefje, I'm just your guide."

You stand there for a moment, considering your next move carefully. You sit down on the edge of the king-size bed. Max follows and sits down next to you, unable to keep his hands to himself. His hands are caressing your hands, arms, thighs, face, anywhere he could reach.

It didn't seem fair that you were sitting naked while he was fully clothed.

You straddle him in order to get closer. He seems surprised by your sudden confidence and pulls you impossibly closer to his warm body.

You lift his shirt gently and start tracing his stomach. Your touch leaves goosebumps along his skin, and he closes his eyes.

"Feels so good, sweetheart." He admits.

You remove his tee and begin working on his belt to remove the skinny jeans as well. The pace is slow; you take your time with one another. Max gently touches your sides as you unbutton his jeans. He assists you in removing them, leaving you to admire the magnificence of his body in front of you. Your gaze travels down to his growing member, making you look away.

"Come here." Max encourages you.

As you lie down next to him, he moves halfway over you, placing his leg in between yours. He places soft kisses along your jawline, along the edges of your mouth, along your eyebrows, along your collarbone.

"Is this okay?" He asks.

"Y-yeah." You nod as you pull his head closer to you. He moves down to your exposed breasts and starts sucking on the hardened nipples. His tongue caresses your tits and you feel your heat dripping in anticipation.

"Oh god, Maxie, need more." You comment.

"Patience, love." Max smirks.

His statement makes you groan, looking away from him, trying to cover yourself up.

"You're okay." He smiles as he continues massaging and sucking on your tits. The purple and red marks he leaves will be visible for days but you don't care at the moment.

His mouth finds your stomach, and there too, he leaves marks. When he reaches your mound, he stops.

"Can I go further?" He checks in.

"Yes, please, Maxie!" You instantly reply, sounding desperate.

Max hums and gives your mound a couple of appreciative kisses.

He moves down to your heat, and as you already knew, your juices were already leaking. You feel his heavy breaths on your clit, and Max stays there for a while, relishing in the sight of your pussy.

Then, out of nowhere, he plunges in.

The way he circles your clit causes you to buck your hips up and down again. He pushes down on your stomach and grounds you, continuing to eat your pussy. He teases your entrance with his tongue, opening you up a little.

"Taste so sweet…" He whispers under his breath.

Max has learnt what works for you these last weeks, and in 5 minutes you've had your first orgasm for the night.

You squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure, completely out of breath. Your chest keeps heaving up and down despite your best efforts to find your breath again, but just as you're about to fill your lungs with air, Max laps around your clit.

When he inserts a finger, you yelp.

"Shhhh, it's only my finger."

He curls his finger up towards your sweet spot and you yell out.

"Hngh, gonna cum again…" You manage to say in a strenuous tone.

Hearing that, Max starts sucking and pumping into you harder, and within a couple of seconds you're pushed over the edge once again.

You yell out your spasms and Max pauses, knowing you easily get overstimulated after cumming.

"More, more, more…" You chant.

"Do you want to go all the way, Y/N?"

"Yes, yes, yes, Maxie." And with that, you sit up, pushing him onto the bed.

You take his length into your hands and pump him a couple of times to see how he reacts to your touch. He looks up at you with blown eyes, giving you a wide smile. When you pump him a little harder though, his mouth turns into an O shape.

"Treating me so good, princess."

"Yeah? What about if I do this?" You ask and take his tip into your mouth. As you hollow your cheeks, you hear Max groan loudly but you're too occupied with taking his cock further into your mouth. You bend down a little further until you're on the limit of gagging. You don't dare to go lower. Max gives you an approving look, making sure that you're okay.

Your velvety soft cheeks must've driven Max incredibly close to the edge because you feel his cock twitch in your mouth. You can feel the salty precum on your tongue.

Oh lord, what if your parents found out what you were doing at the moment? They would disown you for sure.

You release his member from your mouth and brush the drool away with the back of your hand.

"Do you think you're ready for me?" He coos.

You stay quiet, pondering your answer carefully. You roll the ring around your finger nervously.

"J-just be careful." You stutter to him.

"Of course, my love." He whispers back as he places you on your back.

"Spread your legs for me." He asks of you while he pumps his cock.

You lift your knees up and slowly spread your legs a little.

"A little more." He demands. You spread them a few centimeters more before you close them shut again in embarrassment.

Max quickly finds himself at your side, peppering you with kisses and praise.

"Liefje, I know this isn't easy for you. I know your parent's lectures are plaguing your mind at the moment. But I just need you to know how incredibly beautiful you are and how turned on I am by you. Here, let me help you…" He says and spreads your legs with his hands. "There you go, good girl."

"I-I'm scared." You admit.

"What are you scared of?"

"The pain?" You ask yourself. You didn't really know what you were scared of, but it was eating you alive at the moment.

"As long as you relax and breathe, you'll be fine." Max comforts. "Ready?"

"Y-yeah." You nod.

He lifts your legs over his strong arms and pulls you closer to him. He pushes a finger into your pussy, and soon adds another one. The stretch scares you at first but you adjust after a couple of gentle pumps. Then, a third one. That's when you start to panic; if you're in this much pain now, how much more will you experience when Max fucks you?

But Max is good, and he slightly pulls back his fingers and slowly pushes them in again, opening you gradually.

When you feel his tip against your opening, you think of what he just told you. Relax and breathe.

"I'll push the tip in first, sweetheart, let me know if it's too much. Breathe with me."

When he lines up with your entrance, you look up at him. He looks like a god like this. Your gazes meet, and you start to breathe together. When he places his tip against you and gives it a little push, you feel a jolt of pain between your legs and yelp by pure instinct.

"You're okay, it's just the tip."

You cry out as Max stays put where he is. He looks down and concludes that the tip is indeed inside.

The face you make when he pushes into you a little further seems to worry him. You can't breathe, can't move, can't speak. The pain is too much to handle.

Max pulls out a little in order to let you recover. You've adjusted well to his tip, you can't feel any pain when just the tip is in.

"Do you want to continue?" Max asks.

"Of course I want to! I'm not backing down now." You exclaim.

Max pushes into you a little further while he caresses your hips. He watches your face in pity.

All of a sudden, after adjusting to his size, the pain subsides and as he's pumping into you, you feel pleasure. You gasp at the feeling of him inside you.

When he bottoms out, you both moan into each others mouths as you kiss.

"So tight for me, schat." He whispers in your ear.

You only groan as an answer, too overwhelmed to form any words. His pace is slow at first, but after checking in with you, his thrusts pick up in speed.

His hips piston into yours and you cry out another orgasm, lightening something within you. Your body is completely limp at this point, exhaustion evident in everything you say and do.

He grabs your hands, places them above your head, and holds them down with his bigger hands. Not that you'd have the energy to move your hands anyway.

His pace is relentless, fucking into you at an unforgiving pace.

"Turn around." He says as he guides you on your hands and knees.

Agonizingly slowly, he pushes into you again, taking care not to hurt you. This position makes you feel everything even more. As if things weren't intense enough, Max moves his hand down to your clit, circling it with his fingers.

"Where do you want my cum?" He asks.

You hadn't even considered this. "What about… In me? I'm on the pill, you know that."

"Hmmm… Classic." You and Max chuckle together.

Max does as you ask and spills his seed impossibly deep within you, chest heaving against yours. All you know is him for what feels like an eternity.

Your chests are heaving against each other, both of you out of breath.

You can't help letting out a small whimper when Max parts from you. You collapse on the bed from exhaustion.

You hear Max in the bathroom, and decide to check on him. When you're about to enter you crash into him.

"Oh! Sorry, I was just about to come get you. I'm running a bath for you, and I've brought a towel if you want to clean yourself up."

You spend the rest of the night talking while Max helps you bathe.

You grab the purity ring on your finger and throw it on the nightstand, not caring about either the ring or your parents opinions anymore.

You fall asleep comfortably, knowing that you were brave enough to finally do it. You finally surrendered yourself to the man you love and adore.

[arabella0001]

passion behind the mask

pairing: Kakashi Hatake x Reader Anime: Naruto Synopsis: he’s always been your sensei… but something else has started to surface beneath that title

i'm new to writing so be gentle pls (eng not my first language)

Warnings: light teasing, rough sex, all characters are of age/aged up, dirty talk, fingering, against a tree

"the hokage assigned me to train you," kakashi said, his voice low and calm, eyes hidden beneath his mask. "i hope we get along. we don’t really have a choice in the matter." he extended a hand, his fingers long and relaxed.

"hi," you smiled, a hint of nervousness lingering in your words as you took his hand. his eyes seemed to pierce through you, assessing every detail.

"so, what brings you to konoha?" he asked, the question casual but his gaze sharp. "you're not from around here, are you?"

"no, i’m not." you hesitated, but your voice grew steadier. "i came for knowledge... to push myself further as a shinobi. i’ve heard about the techniques taught here in konoha." you locked eyes with him.

kakashi raised an eyebrow, an unreadable glint in his eyes. "i see. well, you’ve come to the right place," he said, crossing his arms with an air of ease. "but, let me be clear—i’m not known for being gentle with my students."

his tone was firm, but there was something almost dangerous about it, a subtle edge that made your pulse quicken. "training with me isn’t going to be easy. you sure you’re ready for that?"

"i’m ready," you replied, your voice steady despite the tension in the air.

he nodded, the slightest flicker of approval in his eye. "good. let’s see what you’ve got." his voice lowered, becoming almost a command. "follow me to the training grounds."

you followed him, feeling the weight of his gaze as he led you. as you arrived, he turned to face you, the sun casting shadows over his features. "show me your basic jutsu. your chakra control, your speed. don’t hold back." his words were sharp, commanding.

"understood," you said, heart racing.

kakashi’s gaze never left you as you centered yourself, focusing your chakra. his eyes, always sharp, watched your every move, analyzing with a precision that made you feel exposed, yet oddly encouraged.

"not bad," he commented, his voice cool and even. "but you’ve got a lot of work to do. your chakra control’s a bit shaky."

you couldn’t help but steal a glance at his profile—his sharp jawline, the way his hair caught the light. you quickly looked away, but you felt the heat rising in your cheeks, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

his voice broke your train of thought. "don’t get distracted," he warned softly, though his eyes were still assessing. "let’s focus on stabilizing your chakra flow. close your eyes."

you obeyed, trying to push aside the lingering warmth you felt at his proximity. his voice came again, low and almost soothing. "visualize your chakra as a steady stream, like water flowing through a riverbed. let it flow naturally. don’t force it."

the sound of his footsteps as he circled behind you made your heart race even more. he was so close now, his presence almost overwhelming, yet his tone was calm, instructing.

"can you feel it?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper against your ear. "that warmth spreading through your body? that’s your chakra awakening."

you focused harder, trying to ignore the unsettling closeness, the tingling sensation his voice caused. slowly, you felt the steady pulse of your chakra, the flow smooth and calm.

"good," he said, his voice returning to a neutral tone, but there was something almost approving in it. "now, keep that flow steady. let it fill you completely."

you opened your eyes and turned to face him, feeling the surge of control. his gaze flickered, a brief moment of recognition in his eye as he stepped closer, his breath brushing against your skin as he placed a gloved hand on your shoulder.

"nice work," he said, his touch lingering a moment too long before he pulled away. "but remember, control is everything. in a real fight, it’ll mean the difference between victory and defeat."

his fingers brushed across your collarbone, an unexpected jolt of warmth running through you. you quickly regained your composure, nodding.

"now," he continued, his voice barely above a murmur, "let’s focus on your hand signs. channel your chakra outward. gather it in your palms."

he moved beside you, his arm brushing against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. "like this," he demonstrated, his body close enough that you could feel the heat from him.

you followed his instructions, focusing all your attention on the flow of chakra, trying to block out the overwhelming presence of the man beside you.

kakashi’s eyes flicked to yours, his expression unreadable. "excellent," he murmured, his praise almost like a whisper. "now hold it. don’t release it yet—just let it build." his hand brushed yours again, and for a moment, everything seemed to still, his gaze intense on you.

his voice lowered, almost too soft, but the rough edge behind it betrayed him "control is everything. too much force, and you risk losing precision. too little, and the jutsu lacks power." you focus sharpened as i visualized the chakra swirling in my palms, just as kakashi instructed. the air shimmered faintly around my hands, and i could feel the energy building.

glancing at kakashi, i realized how close he was, our shoulders nearly touching. his proximity stirred something inside me, an unsettling flutter in my stomach. but i pushed it aside, refocusing on my chakra control.

he must have sensed my distraction—his eyes flickered, lips twitching into a smirk beneath his mask. he leaned in, his breath brushing my ear as he murmured, "that's it. feel the energy build... just a little more..."

his gloved hand brushed against my lower back, the touch light, but firm. he was guiding me, urging me to engage my core muscles and steady myself. but his presence was too close, too... intimate, sending a rush of warmth through me.

"now, release it. on my signal," he said, his voice low, but commanding.

i swallowed, trying to steady my breathing as my body betrayed me. his touch grounded me, but also stirred something deep within, a strange heat that made my pulse race.

at his command, i released the chakra with a forceful burst, feeling the air crackle with energy. kakashi’s hand never left my back, anchoring me through the rush of power.

"impressive," he said, his tone almost soft. "your control’s getting better."

i flushed, his praise settling warmly in my chest. "thank you, sensei."

he met my gaze, eyes darkening slightly, lingering just long enough to make my heart skip and he nodded at you. he stepped back, crossing his arms. "next, we work on stamina. you can’t be passing out mid-mission."

i nodded, the training for the day coming to an end. as he stood there, arms crossed, my eyes wandered involuntarily over his form. his muscles strained beneath his flak jacket, and i caught myself lingering on the defined lines of his shoulders before quickly looking away.

"same time tomorrow," i said, hoping my voice didn’t betray the chaos in my thoughts.

he noticed the flicker of my gaze, and his lips twitched into a knowing smile. he uncrossed his arms and adjusted his forehead protector, revealing the smooth line of his arm as he did so.

"right then. see you tomorrow." his voice dropped an octave, almost teasing. "and y/n?" he leaned in, close enough for me to feel his breath on my skin. "don’t stay up too late. you’ll need your rest for what i have planned."

his words lingered too long in the air, curling around me in ways i wasn’t ready for. i felt the heat rise to my cheeks, heart stumbling over itself. no—he couldn’t have meant it that way. he was my teacher. I was reading too much into this… right?

but as i turned to leave, i heard him add, voice rich with amusement, "try to keep your mind out of the gutter, yeah? focus on your training, not... other things."

i felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment, realizing he must have noticed more than i’d wanted. hurrying away, i tried to compose myself, but thoughts of him—his proximity, his touch—kept swirling in my mind.

that night, i couldn’t help but replay every moment, the heat of his touch, the weight of his gaze. a soft sigh escaped as i curled up in bed, my body betraying me. was it just me, or had something shifted between us?

the next morning, i was still flustered, still thinking of him as i dressed, the memory of the dream i had haunting me. the way his chakra had felt against mine... and the look in his eyes. but i shoved the thoughts aside. he was my sensei.

outside, kakashi stood waiting by the training grounds, his presence as enigmatic as ever. as i approached, his eyes locked onto mine, a subtle smirk forming at the corner of his lips.

"good morning," he greeted, voice casual but the challenge in his eyes undeniable. "ready for today’s drills?"

i nodded, trying to suppress the heat building in my cheeks. i could feel his gaze on me, sharp and assessing.

"let’s start with taijutsu," he said, guiding me through the movements with careful precision. his hands adjusted my stance, fingers brushing my skin, igniting something deep inside me. his touch was light, but it left me breathless, making it hard to focus.

"let’s start with taijutsu," he said, his voice steady as he guided me through the movements. his hands adjusted my stance, fingers brushing lightly over my skin, sending an unexpected jolt through me. the touch was soft, but it stayed, trailing just long enough to make it hard to focus..

his voice came again, quieter now, close to my ear, "relax... feel the movement." his breath brushed the back of my neck, and for a moment, it felt as though everything else faded away, leaving only the warmth growing in my chest.

i struggled to concentrate, but every word, every movement of his hand, seemed to unravel my focus more than the last.

"good," he murmured, and the simple praise sent a rush through me. "you’re doing well. but we’ll need to work on your speed."

his eyes traced my every movement, and i could feel the weight of his gaze as though it were touching me. each time our bodies brushed, my pulse would quicken. he seemed to notice every shift, every change—how my skin warmed, how my breath faltered.

after what felt like hours, he stepped back, his gaze still lingering on me. "well done," he said, his tone thick with something unspoken, something that made my heart skip.

he noticed the flush creeping up my neck, the way my breath came quicker. his eyes dropped lower, following the curve of my waist, drifting to where my legs met.

as much as he tried to keep his composure, he couldn't tear his eyes away, drawn to the way i moved, how my body reacted. the sight of me, sweating and breathless, seemed to leave him momentarily lost.

he noticed the confusion in my eyes, heard the way my breathing faltered, and somehow, he understood before i did—he was driving me to the edge, unknowingly or not.

his hand moved, barely grazing my arm, the air between us shifted—faint, electric, and impossible to dismiss.

i felt a sudden panic, my mind racing, and for a moment, i thought he knew. i wanted to step back, but my feet wouldn’t move. "kakashi... i need to take a break," i managed to say, my voice a little too shaky.

"of course," he replied, his tone calm, though there was something unreadable behind his eyes. "take your time." he murmured under his breath, barely audible, "we’ve got all day."

he watched me retreat, his gaze steady as i moved, his eyes following me as though he could sense the turmoil within me. it took everything in him not to step forward, not to pull me back, to close the distance between us. but he shook off the thought quickly, reminding himself of the boundaries, that i was his student.

a small, wry smile tugged at his lips as he turned back to the training dummy. it was hard not to wonder—what would it be like to feel that connection shift into something else?

he stood, unmoving now, his focus on the target before him. but his thoughts wandered, lost in images of me. his hands flexed unconsciously, fingers curling as though around a weapon he wasn’t quite sure he should use.

i should say something… stop this before it goes any further. she’s still my student. but there’s something in her eyes—something far too steady for someone her age. and for a moment, it’s hard to remember the line I’m supposed to hold.

his mind wanders down dangerous paths as he imagines how softy our skin would feel under his touch, how sweet your moans might sound while you come out from behind the tree and walk toward him. you try to act normal.

" so…i m sorry..we can resume our training, sensei"

his eyes flicker up from the training dummy, meeting yours with a calm, steady gaze. there's something unreadable in his expression - like he's seeing right through you

"we can resume... "he agrees easily, crossing his arms over his chest. "but first... "

without warning, he lunges forward, moving faster than anyone could react. in mere seconds, he has you pinned against the tree behind you - your body pressed flush against his own.

you gasp as he pins you against the tree, your heart races and your body reacts to his touch. "w-what? kakashi sensei? "

he leans closer, his breath barely skimming your ear, the kind of closeness that makes the rest of the world shrink away. his voice follows, softer than usual, but it lands low, rough around the edges, like he’s not sure he should be saying it at all.

'testing your reflexes…'

his lips don’t quite touch your skin, but they linger near enough to make you notice every shallow breath between you. when his hand drifts down, fingers tracing the line of your waist, it’s deliberate—measured, like he’s giving you time to stop him.

'and how well you listen,' he murmurs, his palm settling just below your hip.

your breath hitches, seeing your reaction, his hand grips your ass.

i can feel the heat of his body against mine. my eyes widened, cant believe he is touching me right now. usually so composed with an unreadable emotions.

"Kakashi..I…"

his grip on your ass tightens, pulling you even more firmly against him. you can feel the hard line of his arousal pressing insistently against your stomach.

"don't worry... "he murmurs, his hot breath fanning across your neck. "this isn't part of the training. at least... not yet. "

"kakashi…I don't think is okay what we are doing" you were feeling so aroused, he pulls back slightly, grey eyes meeting yours with a mix of concern and raw, unchecked lust. his breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to regain some semblance of control.

"you're right... "he admits, voice rough with need.. "this shouldn't be happening. I'm your sensei... "

but even as he says the words, his hand slides lower, fingers hooking into the elastic of your panties and tugging them aside.

"can..you take off your mask? you asked anxious because he never show his face without it. he pauses, his lips hovering just inches from yours as he considers your request. for a long moment, he remains silent, his expression unreadable behind the silver mask that has become an integral part of his persona. then, with a subtle nod, he pulls away, revealing the full expanse of his face.

"very well" with deliberate slowness, he lifts the mask, letting it dangle from one finger as he exposes the beauty mark on the left corner of his mouth, the vertical scar bisecting his left eye, and the striking contrast of his spiky silver hair against his tanned skin. he holds your gaze, his dark grey eyes piercing and intense, as if daring you to react to this rare glimpse of vulnerability.

"beautiful…" your fingers graze the scar, and for a moment, he's lost in the sensation, his eyes drifting closed as he savors the intimacy of the gesture. when he opens them again, they're burning with a smoldering intensity, his pupils dilated with desire.

without waiting for a response, he closes the distance between you once more, claiming your lips in a passionate kiss that speaks volumes about the depth of his feelings, his lips feeling so much better now. his hands roam over your body, mapping the curves and contours with a possessive hunger that leaves no doubt about his desire for you.

the sound of your moan sends a jolt of pleasure through him, he deepens the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to dance with yours in a sensual ballet of passion. one hand slides down to grasp your hip, pulling you harder against him as he grinds his erection into the cradle of your thighs.

breaking the kiss, he trails his lips along your jawline, nipping and sucking at the tender flesh as he works his way down to your neck. he inhales your scent, committing it to memory as his hands begin to roam beneath your clothing, seeking the warmth of your skin.

"tell me, Y/N... "he whispers against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. " have you ever been touched like this before? "

with surprising strength, he hoists you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he presses you harder into the tree. his free hand finds your breast, thumb rubbing over the hardened peak of your nipple through your clothing making you moan.

“not like this…" he kiss you hard, his tongue delves into your mouth, claiming it with a fierce dominance that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

"mmmph... "he growls against your lips, breaking the kiss only to trail his mouth down the column of your throat. nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin, his hands roam your body, exploring every curve and dip with a hunger that borders on desperation. fingers deftly unfasten your top, pushing the fabric aside to expose your breasts to the cool evening air.

you gasp as he exposes your breasts, you arch your back slightly, your nipples harden under his gaze.  his dark grey eyes drink in the sight of your bared breasts, pupils dilating with lust. a low, appreciative rumble vibrates in his chest as he cups the soft mounds, thumbs teasing over the pebbled nipples.

"beautiful... "he murmurs, voice thick with desire. leaning in, he takes one pert nipple between his teeth, gently biting down before soothing the sting with his tongue.

as he lavishes attention on your breasts, his other hand continues its exploration, sliding beneath the hem of your skirt to cup the heat of your sex through your panties. he groans at the dampness he finds there, fingers rubbing slow circles over your clit.

you whimper softly, tilting your head back against the tree as he teases your nipples and touches you intimately.  he doesn't hesitate, probing your slick entrance with a finger, feeling how ready you are for him

"fuck... "he curses under his breath, adding a second finger to stretch and prepare you. "so wet already... you want this, don't you? want me inside you".

"yes…" with a low, primal growl, he surges forward, burying his throbbing length deep within your welcoming heat. your tight walls clench around him, drawing him in further as he starts to move, setting a slow but deep pace that has you gasping and writhing against the tree.

"so tight... "he grunts, hips snapping forward to meet your eager thrusts. one hand grips your hip, holding you steady as the other reaches up to palm your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers.

"ahhh fuck" you moans loudly as he pounds into you, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper as you cling to his shoulders. your nails dig into his skin as pleasure coils tighter and tighter in your core.

"more...harder...please" you beg shamelessly, lost in the intensity.his grip on your hip tightens almost painfully as he drives into you with increased ferocity, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the forest. sweat beads on his brow, mixing with the silver strands of hair that fall across his forehead.

"you have no idea how good you feel "he pants harshly, the tip of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing fast circles over the sensitive nub as he chases your impending climax. "come for me, Y/N...now... "

your scream of pleasure pushes him over the edge. with a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt and erupts inside you, filling you with wave after wave of hot seed. he holds you close, panting heavily as he rides out the aftershocks of his intense orgasm.

"fuck...that was... "he trails off, struggling to find words amidst the haze of post-coital bliss. slowly, he pulls out, watching with a mix of pride and trepidation as his cum leaks out of your well-used pussy. "we should probably get cleaned up before someone finds us like this... "he suggests, trying to sound casual despite the lingering desire in his gaze.

"yes.. "looks down at the evidence of your passionate encounter dripping down your thighs. feeling vulnerable. you two just fucked. you and your sensei. the kakashi hatake.

he notices your gaze drifting to the mess between your legs and feels a pang of something unfamiliar - concern, perhaps, or even affection. shaking off the unexpected emotions, he steps closer, offering you a hand to help you clean up.

 "thank you" and he gives your hand a brief squeeze before releasing it, tucking himself back into his pants and straightening his flak jacket. "no need to thank me, Y/N. that was... mutual, to say the least. "

clearing his throat, he attempts to regain some composure, though his eyes still linger on yours with an unreadable expression. "now, let's get moving before we attract any unwanted attention. i'm supposed to be training you, after all. "

you nodded at him and preparing for heading  back to village.

"and maybe keep this little tryst between us, hmm? for both our sakes. "his voice is firm, attempting to maintain a sense of normalcy, but there's a hint of softness in his tone that wasn't there before.

with that, he sets off through the trees, expecting you to follow. despite the unconventional start to your partnership, he can't deny the spark of excitement at the prospect of guiding such a fiery, passionate individual as yourself.

Wattpad link

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 2

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

You don’t often use your MyFet beyond finding a group or conference to attend. You periodically clear out your messages, just in case an acquaintance wants to reach out. So you almost delete the message from the anonymous profile on autopilot, but the subject line intrigues you.

Interested in Distance Play, No Punishments - 14 Hrs Ago

Intrigued, you open it because… at least they read a little bit of your profile.

I noticed your profile because of your self-rope pictures. The rest of your profile is very interesting to me - specifically your engagement in solo play and dislike of punishment. I liked the post you made about obedience as an ongoing active choice.

I’m a man in my 30s with a classified job. I travel a lot, and I’m looking for someone to have a strictly long-distance arrangement with. I’m interested in: non-restrictive rope, obedience, behavior modification, praise. I’m sure there’s more, but I’ve written this message six times. Please let me know if you’re interested in discussing.

Well, that’s refreshingly straightforward and devoid of unsolicited smut. You read the message again, then click into his profile. G_987654321_ It’s… pretty bare. But if he’s got a classified job, that makes sense, right? Location: Antarctica. His age is listed as 33, and he’s listed himself as dominant and seeking acquaintances and play partners. Not interested in hookups, interested in casual nudity, obedience, praise. Hard limits of degradation and humiliation.

It’s not much more information than the message itself, but it’s more than some of the men who have asked if you want to meet up in private. You review his original message and bite your knuckle. Worst case scenario, he’s some troll who will call you a range of slurs and waste your time, and then you’ll block him. Best case scenario… he means what he says.

What are you looking for? Who, What, When, Where, and Why?

You send the message and log out of the app before you can chicken out. Your inner voice is grumbling (stupid stupid stupid), but that’s normal. You let yourself watch two and a half episodes of your latest show, and then make a hearty dinner.

You’re surprised when you pick your phone back up. One new message.

The whole time you’re cursing the app for glitching and logging you out and forgetting your password, you’re sure it’s not him. Most likely, it’s an event announcement from a friend or a bot. But you like going to events, so it’s worth it.

It’s a message. It’s from him.

Who: You and Me What: Praise-based, goal-oriented obedience play When: Twice weekly when we’re both available, but I won’t always be available. Sometimes weekly, sometimes a greater time between meet ups. Where: Virtual meetings. Video preferred, audio-only acceptable. First couple of discussions will be text based until I can get secure video set up. Why: Mutual relaxation and well being. Sexual connection preferred, but obviously not required.

Having a guide was helpful. Thank you.

Well… That’s something.

—

You follow Simon towards the fighting, which is not where you wanted to go. When you point this out, he barely acknowledges except to say “You don’t want to go the other way.” So you keep low and stay quiet and breathe like he told you to.

He leads you down a few halls and you don’t bother trying to remember the route. He seems to know where he’s going. One or twice he has you stop while he checks around a corner, but eventually, he herds you into a small conference room. You freeze when you see three men, but Simon drops the muzzle of his gun to the floor, so you must not be in too much danger.

“Who’s this then?” A man in tactical vest and boonie hat steps forward, and you sidle behind Simon before you know your feet are moving. He gives you a considering look before looking to Simon.

The man in question fishes you out from behind his and plants you in front of him with a heavy hand on your shoulder. “Found Bambi wandering the halls.”

Boonie Hat’s eyebrows pop up. “Bambi?”

“’Bout scared the piss out o’me,” Simon confirms.

“Well, that throws a wrench in things,” the other man says. “But there’s nothing for it. Stow her for now, we’ll keep her safe.”

Simon’s hand guides you to the other side of the large table and pushes you gently into a plush rolling chair. He puts his huge body between you and the others, who look at you curiously,

“Eyes up, li’l fawn,” he intones.

You aren’t sure how well you hide the flinch when you see the skull covering his face, again. He’s quiet as you look between his eyes, clasps his gloved hands in his lap so you can see them when you look over him.

There’s a lot of him to look over.

Now that you’re not moving, you can see the brown spots on the edge of his mask, flecked on his tactical vest. His thighs spread a bit beneath his black pants where they meet the table. His biceps bulge, which is a whole different experience in person than it is online. Theres a gun on his hip, and a knife. Two knives. Three. How many knives does a man need?

Enough for everyone’s throats. You have to bite back terrified giggles.

“You’re gonna stay ‘ere,” Simon tells you, interrupting your musing. Your horror must be plain on your face because he shushes you, again. “Shhh. Easy. This wing’s secure. Can’t keep you safe if I’m wonderin’ where you’ve wandered to. Acknowledge.”

“What if something goes wrong?” you blurt.

“You follow Price if you can't see or ‘ear me. ‘e's the Captain, outranks me,” Simon answers. He points to Boonie Hat, then to the black man, who smiles at you, and a white man with a mohawk, who looks at you like you’re the most fascinating thing he’s seen all day. “This is Gaz, that's Soap. You can't find the Captain, you sit tight and wait for one of them to retrieve you."

“But-!”

“Acknowledge, Bambi.”

You swallow back tears. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

“’M goin’ where the guns are,” he answers. “’S my job to take care of you, right? Acknowledge.”

It’s hard to get the words out, but you do. “Acknowledged. You have to take care of me.”

“’M not always going to be able to do that the way you want. Acknowledge.”

“Acknowledged. Not always the way I want.”

“’M gonna keep you safe as I can,” he says. “’Nd it’s okay that you’re scared. But this is my job. ‘S not a scene. So I can’t negotiate. Acknowledge.”

“It’s your job,” you say, taking a deep breath and letting it out. Unfortunately, you can feel the day catching up with you, and your eyes start to prickle. “It’s not a scene, we can’t negotiate right now. Acknowledged.”

The one called Gaz approaches from the other side of the table. “Ghost, we’ve got to get moving.”

Before you can integrate the realization that Simon is apparently called Ghost, the other one, Soap, peeks around Simon’s shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “This your bird, LT? Le’s get her tucked away, aye?”

Something about the way he asks if you are Simon’s bird, his girl, flips a switch in your brain. Because you’re not Simon’s girl. You’re not even supposed to have ever met in person. You’re an online sub, a weird, awkward, anxious person who couldn’t find an in person connection. And yeah, Simon-Also-Called-Ghost is an online Dom but apparently that’s because he’s running around Europe rescuing people from hostage situations!

It’s a little much.

You suck in a breath through your mouth as everything gets blurry with tears. Your whole body shakes with the sob that you try not to let out. You simultaneously want to lock every muscle in place and curl up on the ground to die.

A hiccup shakes you hard enough that you almost fall out of your chair.

Simon’s gloved hand grips the back of your head, and you’re guided to press your forehead against his thigh.

"Shhhhh," he whispers, and you can almost pretend that you’re listening to him in your ear from thousands of miles away. His pants are tough and scratchy, nothing like your pillow, but the steady pressure of his hand is so steadying. "It's okay. I know this isn't a scene, but the same rules apply. You feel overwhelmed, don’t know what to say, you hold up 4 fingers. No punishments for feeling something. Show me."

Holding up 4 fingers feels familiar. The way his hand cups the back of your skull doesn't. But it's still nice.

Sooner than you’d like, Simon guides you down off the chair and under the table. You can’t pay attention to the others, though you can see their boots on the other side of the room. Instead, you keep your eyes on his his right hand, stuck on the inane detail of skeleton themed gloves. Your dom wears skeleton gear to work. His work is killing some people and saving others.

That hand cups your chin and makes you look up into his face. His eyes are dark, piercing. His voice, when he speaks, sends shiver down your spine. “Stay. Acknowledge.”

You’re already about as low down as you can get, but you still duck your head as much as you can while keeping eye contact. “Acknowledged. Stay.”

His thumb caresses your cheek for a long moment. And then he’s standing. Chairs are pushed in to surround you, and four pairs of heavy boots dash from the room.

You curl up, hug yourself, and let the tears fall.

You wake up with a start. Your whole body hurts, shoulder and neck and hips tight like they haven’t been in a long time. And of course they are. You’re on the ground, lying under a conference table. Why the hell are you under a conference table? You’re not in college anymore, you’re too old for this shit.

And then you see a pair of huge boots round the edge of the table and remember.

Your heart is in your throat as two chairs are shifted away and a huge form drops into a crouch. A part of you flinches back from the mask, the tactical clothing, the blood you almost can’t see shining on his boot. But then you see those eyes and think, Oh. You came back for me.

[o-sachi]

Hope They Caught Us ‧₊˚ ⋅ Blue Lock Chars. (Request)

ଳ oh no, the paparazzi has revealed your relationship; what's going to happen now?ଳ characters; isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, nagi seishiro, reo mikage, michael kaiser, sae itoshi, rin itoshi, barou shoei, chigiri hyoma, shidou ryusei ଳ tags; pro player characters, gn reader, sfw

ᯓ Isagi Yoichi

Isagi wasn't really concerned about being "found out" in the first place. He mostly kept a low profile with you for your own privacy and safety.

If you're just starting out, he'd probably dodge questions about his love life. But after a couple of months, he'd gladly reveal it in a press con.

Being one of the top strikers, it became an unspoken rule in media to not be that "trashy" tabloid to mess around with Isagi's private life.

In a way, everyone respected the low profile he wanted for the two of you.

He'd probably be more open with sharing photos of the two of you once you're married. Maybe he'd even post occasional updates about your family.

ᯓ Bachira Meguru

He does the job of the paparazzi for them. Tabloids have no use in tailing him in public because he posts about you on his socials as much as he can.

Seriously. When he needs to promote an upcoming match, he'll use a picture of you wearing his jersey and slap on the caption his management asked him to.

It probably becomes a meme—how obsessed he can be with you. Oddly enough, it earns him even more fans.

When you get married... he will never shut up. Seeing his social media, you'd forget that he was a football player in the first place.

It's a different story if he had kids though. He'd be super pumped to share them and all their milestones, but he's responsible enough to know that they need to remain private for their safety.

ᯓ Nagi Seishirou

His management initially told him to keep a low profile with anyone that he dates. Being a famous footballer meant that he had to protect his reputation at all costs. Romantic relationships could be a slippery slope, so they wanted to safeguard his image as best they can.

He shrugs it off and promises that he will do that. Butttttt, not long after the two of you started dating, the paps already got to him. Suffice to say that his management was not happy.

The two of you were caught out in public getting some food. They could've argued that you were going as friends, but the way Nagi lazily wrapped his arms around your waist (force of habit) told people otherwise.

When the news blew up that he was dating someone—he shrugged it off. Again. His publicist trains him excessively to prepare for the upcoming press con, knowing that Nagi will most definitely slip up again.

The poor guy tries so hard to lie in front of the media, but it was too obvious. It was almost hilarious how he kept mixing up his answers. In the end, the management relented and allowed him to reveal your relationship without mincing words.

ᯓ Reo Mikage

Similar to Nagi's case, everyone tells him to keep the relationship a secret—his management, his parents, his financial advisors, and even a few of his friends.

It was a tougher situation for him because not only is he famous, but he's also disgustingly rich. That only posed more danger for you and especially for him.

There were plenty of close calls when the paparazzi would camp near his house and his usual haunts. But somehow... all the stories and articles get shut down quickly. Reo has his managing team (and some of his parents' connections) to thank for that.

So, people now have a slight idea that Reo might be dating someone. But that's about it. They have no idea about who the person is nor how serious the relationship is. When a photo or two goes under the radar and somehow makes its way on to the internet, people always assume it's edited or taken out of context.

The devil works hard, but Reo Mikage's management team works harder.

ᯓ Michael Kaiser

He's the type of celebrity that the paparazzi always gets ahold of. It's practically impossible for him to get away, so he gave up and accepted his fate. When he was still single—he didn't give a shit about them as long as they kept their distance and turned off the flash of their cameras.

But when you came into the picture... he became so so mean to the paparazzi. Even if they kept their distance from the two of you, he'd always throw a scarf over your head or hand you his sunglasses, so that you didn't have to deal with your face being plastered all over the internet.

He would definitely throw a middle finger or two if one of the paps tells you to smile for them or something. An article about Kaiser—with the now infamous picture of him—would be uploaded the next morning. But, honestly? Who gives a shit?

Grows to hate the paps with a burning passion. He literally can't have a calm day without them on his tail. And best believe that he'll express this disdain on every press con and interview possible.

Fans eventually come to his rescue and throw hate on every tabloid that keeps on hounding him and his precious significant other.

ᯓ Sae Itoshi

Sae is the only one safe from the prying eyes of the public. if he wants to keep you and your relationship private—then private it shall be. It's not that he's embarrassed of you, but he thinks that other people have absolutely no say in your relationship. What' between the two of you, stays there.

He rarely posts on social media. If he does, it's going to be a promotional pub for his next match or appearance. Not a single post about his personal life will be there, especially a post about you.

The paparazzi almost never catches him. Even if they do, it's always just him by himself doing mundane things. Eventually, the paps figured it was useless to track him down and decided to hound a different celebrity (his brother lol).

He secretly loves to mess with the internet by posting the most cryptic shit ever. It has everyone coming up with conspiracy theories, but none of them seem to stick (there's always gonna be that one "debunker" after all). When he randomly sees people debating and fighting on the internet about his posts—it makes him giggle a bit inside.

He'll probably only reveal bits of his personal life once he's retired. Maybe he'll tell people he was married and was with you for a long time now. For a star as big as him, the paps won't let him go even if he retires, but at that point, he could hardly care.

ᯓ Rin Itoshi

He hated the thought of having the public know about your relationship because 1) it will compromise your safety, 2) it will mean that a bunch of random extras would be talking about the two of you, and 3) his business is his alone. Rin's just an incredibly private person all around.

So smug at first because the paparazzi was exclusively going after his brother—being a huge pain in the ass. His smugness was quickly wiped away once the paps started hounding him instead. He definitely cursed his brother in his mind for "being so boring that even the tabloids got sick of him."

He would release a statement in which he tells the public to back off and that it's none of their concern if he was dating anyone. Although, it completely backfires because who mentions that out of the blue? Everyone knew he was reverse-psychology-ing them.

Of course, he was pissed about how his statement blew up in the wrong direction. You, on the other hand, found it quite amusing. To relieve his stress, you suggested to go out of the country with him for a while and enjoy a nice vacation.

As fate would have it, that was when the two of you were caught red-handed—being all over each other at a beach in Cancun. Rin was... not impressed when the pictures spread all over the internet. But you were there to cheer him up again! (He still won't give them the satisfaction of admitting to your relationship though).

ᯓ Barou Shoei

Barou's strict with himself and with you. His management team doesn't have to fret over him because they know he has it all under control. He reminds you constantly and teaches you how to be careful under the public eye. He's super sweet and considerate for that !

He asks you if your prefer the privacy or if you'd like to make your relationship public (He cares too much about what you think). If you prefer privacy, then he'd do anything and everything in his power to keep your existence under wraps. If you wanna go public, then he's making a statement tomorrow.

However, you do decide that you want people to know about your relationship; it felt more real that way. He takes note of it and does it in the flashiest way possible: inviting you down on the field to celebrate with him after a win.

The paps have an absolute field day with that moment. So many HD pictures of different angles of that celebration filled the internet for a month or so. Everyone thought it was quite cute.

You still kept a low profile after that. People knew about your relationship, but your safety was still his number one priority.

ᯓ Chigiri Hyoma

Chigiri could give two shits about the paparazzi. Let them follow if they want; it makes them look sad and pathetic shouting for his and your attention after all.

Don't get him wrong though—he's still concerned about your safety, so he does everything else in the background to make sure no one can do anything nasty to you even if your relationship is plastered all over the internet.

There wasn't any need for statement or confirmation from him. There were always paparazzi waiting for you when you go out to dinner with him. He'll still gladly hold your hand and whisper some reassurance into your ear.

HE IS THE TYPE TO RESPOND TO HATE COMMENTS ONLINE. And it's too funny. Chigiri has the best comebacks and one-liners to the haters which has fans rolling on the floor laughing. "That's why Chigiri is the goat," one netizen says.

You two eventually become a power couple that's referenced quite often in media. How cute.

ᯓ Shidou Ryusei

He was involved in an incident once wherein he calmly approached one of the paps, took the camera from him, snapped a photo of the guy right in his face, and said, "Doesn't feel good to be photographed without your permission huh?"

Safe to say that after that—the paps didn't want to do anything to him. I mean, he's already a menace on the football field (which is a regulated place, by the way), so what more if he was out in public without any restraint?

People knew about your relationship anyway. He wasn't shy about it and both of you were like YOLO—having fun over safety any day was your motto. (Thankfully, management was kind enough to make sure both of you were still safe though).

He's the type to overshare on the internet. It's to the point that sometimes you have to whack him over the head and ask him to delete a post because it revealed too much about his life.

Shidou shitposts on the internet way too often. So much so that people started calling his posts "Shidouposts" (affectionately). He also loved sharing memes about himself or about the two of you.

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

o-sachi © 2024

[anantaru]

more rich boy alhaitham pls🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽i love the concept and how u wrote it😭🙏🏽😭🙏🏽😭🙏🏽😭🖤

cw. ⪩⪨ fem! reader, rich boy au, rich boy alhaitham, process of falling for you HARD, a little possessive again because I cannot help myself, rough sex & very messy

whether you believe it or not, rich boy alhaitham has never been in love before— and the scribe thinks about one specific kind of love here, one you read about in books, one you can evidently witness between two strangers while crossing the street.

essentially, he was attractive and he knew it, a man blessed with extraordinary intelligence and talent, bringing to mind that he was exceptionally wealthy as well.

so, speaking from an outer perspective, those factors certainly couldn't be the reason as to why he was unlucky on finding his perfect match— in fact, no one could ever deny how greatly alhaitham was being admired by the people of sumeru.

or was he?

or perhaps, they really don't often pay attention to him, because you see, he doesn't want them to.

he purposefully keeps a low profile, with a veiled identity and ulterior purposes hidden right beneath, so that he could rest easy and indulge in a comfortable life— with his wealth continuously growing, yet no specific target on what to do with it, or on who to spend it on besides himself.

yes, it was true, he sometimes catches himself getting lonely.

but in spite of that, after he meets you it's different, because suddenly alhaitham finds himself in trouble without noticing how the feelings of love were already coursing through his veins.

how unnoticeable falling in love was, snap and it's over, it's astonishing how he just needed to get closer to you.

you swallow thickly, and it was foreseeable that you ended up in his bed again, it's on the point of each night that it ends the exact same way now.

both of you knew why you were sharing a bed again— lewd and lustful traces curving over the slopes of your body and stimulating your needs— how utterly interesting how fast someone's mind could simply switch off and decide that you were in love now.

just from a simple look, and alhaitham was yours.

and he never would've let this happen to himself— the stress on how to navigate through an emotion such as love, especially since there wasn't a rational answer behind the multiple explanations he read about in the past, nor could you buy real, pure love with money.

if it were for anybody at all, he would just brush it off or at least try, but you just had to be so cruel and invade his mind.

you feel his gaze on you now, and it's the way his breath tumbles over your parted mouth that you know he's done for— his tongue driving between your lips before lapping over your pink muscle as his hips leisurely push into you.

it drives alhaitham insane, no amount of money could even come close to this feeling of pleasure and genuine lust, it's like a heavy drug someone would grow addicted to in the twinkling of an eye.

you squeal when he bites down on your bottom lip, your trembling frame teetering on the edge of a rapid sensation while every slap of skin turns the bedroom aflame, until the pleasure goes straight to your puffy clit, overflowing your belly with butterflies.

a burning pressure pricks at your spongy walls as his cock repeatedly crowds you, giving your hips a good squeeze as alhaitham presses you back into his length, making sure you're taking him all at once.

your arousal was clinging to his toned abs and turned the view before you all the more sinful, your soft pussy glistening with your slick and his pre when he uses it as a natural lubricant to make it pleasurable to the both of you, hitting your aching spots just like that.

alhaitham can hear how much you're enjoying this and he hopes he doesn't give away how much he has been enjoying this as well. of course, it's much more evident in your case, precisely from the way your moans trembled and your hips stuttered and flinch into his dripping dick, your body attempting but ultimately failing to meet his thrusts half way as you're struggling to find any strength to lift your hips up.

alhaitham sees it's too much for you by now, he can also feel it in the way you're clamping around the base of his erection with dripping heat, until he was all soaked and wet in your oozing arousal.

needless to say, the wealthy man placed a mental note into the deepest depths of his brain for later— to, as one might expect, treat you to a glorious shopping spree with a luxurious dinner waiting for you afterwards.

basically wherever you wanted to go to, he would make it possible, because obviously he will make it happen just for you! and wether the feelings he was encountering right now were pure and good ..

.. alhaitham would do anything to keep you, and he won't ever lose you.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify