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hxzbinwrites · 1 year ago

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Hey!! Saw that u were taking request <3 I was thinking that an Alestor x wife!reader being a power (but absolutely terrifying) couple would be soooo cool, like maybe they already knew each other from when they were humans, and Alestor is just 10000% a simp for his wifey lol. Hope u like it!

Alastor x Wife! Overlord! Reader | Forgiveness |

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Death, Killing, Mentions of Alastor being a Cannibal, Reader makes STUPID DECISIONS

In the Pride Ring is where all of the sinners and Overlords alike mingle. The uppermost ring of Hell and the closest to Heaven. That’s where some of the most feared and powerful beings live. Two of those entities being Alastor, the Radio Demon, and (Y/n), the Jazz Demon.

Together, they rule their districts with an iron grip. While some Overlords team up, like the Vees, Alastor and (Y/n) were the first to do it. Well, it makes sense really, especially because they were close during their respective times alive on Earth.

——————

Three gunshots were heard that fateful night. One ending a mans life by his hand, one ending the witness’s life by his hand, and one ending his by justice’s hand. No more Bayou Killer, but he took two more lives before he went. Awful, sick man. Good thing he’s in Hell now…

Alastor hissed as his back hit the pavement. His squinted eyes took in his surroundings, he was in Hell. Hmm, no shocker there. What was a shock was seeing the body next to his.

“Ugghh” They groaned, sitting upright on the pavement next to him. They locked eyes. It was (Y/n). Before Alastor could even speak, she pounced on him, pushing him back into the pavement.

“You sick son of a BITCH!! YOU KILLED ME!! SHOT ME LIKE I WAS AN ANIMAL FOR YA NEXT MEAL!!” She yelled, shaking him back and forth by gripping his collar. His collar looked identical to hers, and he tuned out her yelling, he noticed her attire. She was now wearing a black suit with red and white accents, one that looked like a reverse image of his. Except a few details weren’t the same, hers looked more feminine, but also had less harsh edges to it. She looked more elegant while he looked more harsh.

He then looked up to her face, she had red eyes and long, silky black hair, with red underneath. He looked to the top of her head and noticed two fluffy, black ears. They were currently pressed to her scalp, a clear indicator of her unhappiness at the current moment.

“AND TO THINK, AFTER ALL OF THAT BEGGIN, YOU WAS JUST DYING TO GET ME ON YOUR RADIO SHOW!! WELL LOOK AT US NOW, MR. ALASTOR. LOOK. AT. US. NOW. WHAT EVEN ARE YOU, YOU SICK FREAK. EVERYONE KNEW THE BAYOU KILLER ATE FOLKS. IF YOU WERENT SHOT, WERE YOU GONNA EAT ME?? WAS I GONNA NOT EVEN BE ABLE TO HAVE A BURIAL NEXT TO MY PA, CAUSE YOU ATE ME!? OH LORD HELP ME!!”

Alastor rolled his eyes, feeling no remorse for the doe that whined above him. (Y/n) was a famous musician in Louisiana, particularly in Jazz. Alastor had begged her to come onto his radio show, play some tunes for his devoted fans. She agreed, but that night Alastor didn’t show to the studio. She heard shouting in the woods across the street from the building, stupidly she went to investigate. She saw the oh so famous radio host, and with a bang of a shotgun the other man was dead. Probably in Heaven now. Trying to stay silent, (Y/n) tried to back away before a branch snapped, like a doe her eyes widened before she darted away, only to be shot right in the heart and drop down to the ground. She heard another shot faintly in the distance before she felt the wind brush past her as she fell.

“My dear, I apologize.” Alastor said, gently grabbing (Y/n)‘s hand. “It was never my intention to make you my target. I knew that if word got out about my….hobbies….that my reputation would be ruined. No more radio show.”

“You can apologize for the rest of eternity” She scowled, smacking his hand away before standing up,” You’re a MONSTER. Leave me ALONE. Hopefully someone down here will be nice, but I’m not taking no help from you”. (Y/n) finally walked away, leaving a very annoyed Alastor sitting there.

———————

About 20 years later

Alastor was a feared Overlord now, rising the ranks out of seemingly nowhere. Even with this newfound power and respect, (Y/n) still wanted nothing to do with him. She was famous in her own way. Music was not very abundant in Hell, and she profited off of that. She had little to no competition in the music industry. Becoming an icon of Hell, her name was in everyone’s mouth, making Alastor yesterday’s news, which irked him to no end.

‘I need her.’ Alastor initially thought,’ with someone as influential as her now, having her on my side will make my power increase tenfold.’ But after many times of asking over the years, he just yearned for her admiration. Not only to be on his side, but by his side. He didn’t know where the newfound obsession came from, but Alastor knew he wouldn’t stop until he brought her to him.

Alastor made his way to her huge studio, basically a small turf at this point. Without ever fighting, she’d managed to become a little bit of an Overlord, just not to the extent she could be called one. He made his way up to her penthouse, knowing the way by heart since this is not the first time he’s made a visit for an alliance.

“What Alastor.” (Y/n) asked, not even looking up from her sheet music she was writing.

“Hello my dear!” Alastor said,”lovely to see you again! I just miss you so much darling!”

“Miss me from what?” She said, turning around to meet his eyes,” we were aquatinted when we were alive, and then you killed me. What exactly do you miss me from?”

“I just miss seeing you.” He said in a softer tone,”Please (Y/n), you must realize that your death was an accident. I was never planning to hurt you. I was never planning to do anything to you.”

(Y/n)’s head tipped down, her ears pressed to her scalp,”but you did, Alastor. You killed me.”

“My dear….” He said, getting closer slowly, like she’d dart off at any given moment, just for him to not see her ever again. “My dear, I cannot imagine the pain you’ve gone through. I know it’s been a few years now, but that’s a few years you could’ve still been alive. Found a husband, had a better music career, just lived. I took that from you, and I’m…..I’m sorry.”

“I know Alastor.” She said, hugging him. Even though he hated when people touched him, she did not know this, so he internally decided to let this one time be the exception. “You know I can never fully forgive you….but after all of these years, I think I can at least try to have you in my life….but if you screw up ANY, I’m gonna kill you. I don’t care if you’re an Overlord or whatever the hell you’re doing, I will kill you like you killed me.”

“Hmm, fair enough” He shrugged, breaking off the hug as he sat down in the chair across from hers.

———————

Present Day

“So hold up” Angel said, looking at the two powerful Overlords,”He literally killed you and you were like, ‘oh well, I forgive you’. What the hell (Y/n)?”

(Y/n) was a true Overlord know. Once she let Alastor back into her life, he taught her the ways of toppling Overlords. She didn’t posses near the amount of power that he had, so he did the gruesome part for her. Building her musical empire (and later on having to shoo of Vox who begged her to join his up and coming ‘Television’ idea after Alastor shot him down).

“Oh I’d hardly call it forgiving.” Alastor said,”I get constantly reminded about it every day, multiple times a day. You wonder why it took us 60 years to even get engaged.”

(Y/n) just rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. Alastor smirked, looking over at his wife.

“Well, what else was I supposed to do? The man kept coming by begging me every week for TWENTY YEARS!! Lovesick puppy if you ask me.”

Charlie squealed, hugging onto Vaggie. “Look Vaggie! That could be us one day!!”

“I hope not” Vaggie said,” A freaky cannibalistic overlord and his delusional companion. I’m fine with staying as us.”

“No Vaggie! I meant married! Wouldn’t that be fun!! Married for a long time!! Forever!!”

While Charlie was helping Vaggie stop short circuiting, (Y/n) and Alastor just looked at one another with a knowing glance. Alastor took her hand and kissed her knuckles, smiling up at her.

“Thank you again my dear, for letting me back into your life. I’m eternally sorry for what I did.”

“I know you are Alastor, plus I’d be dead already now regardless.” (Y/n) giggled,”I still don’t know what overcame me that day. I mean, who lets someone back into their life after doing that!! I am glad I did though. It’s like you said in that apology, I have a husband, I have a huge music career, but I’m not living, technically, but it feels like it!!”

Alastor chuckled,”that’s right, my precious doe. Now, I am off to go grab lunch for the both of us! If you excuse me, I shall make a trip down to the Cannibal District, and then over to the grocery store for your food!”

———————

Word Count: 1,560

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bueckers · 8 months ago

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𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐄 ━━━ 𝐏𝐁

a/n | heavily inspired by that clip of caitlin & gabbie LOL. kind of a blurb

summary: paige gets caught looking at you a certain way on camera while you’re practically fuming during a game.

warning(s): just sexual tension & out of pocket comments, suggestive

pairing: paige bueckers x teammate!reader

The game against NC State was remarkably close, an unexpected challenge for only the second game of the season. As the third quarter dwindled to its final minutes, a sense of frustration began to set in. You found yourself doing everything in your power to gain composure.

The same girl had been targeting you all night, her aggressive play becoming increasingly blatant as the game progressed. Your patience was wearing thin, and when she charged at you once again, a surge of anger propelled you forward, ready to confront her. However, before you could react, Paige, Aubrey, and Ines intervened, stepping in to hold you back before you did something you’d regret.

Geno had benched you, which only added more fuel to the fire. When the other team called a timeout, the rest of the team was sent to the benches, but Paige was quick to run over to you. As soon as the whistle blew, you got out of my seat and jogged over to the referee, determined to explain that he had made the wrong call. He had been the entire game. Your frustration, however, got the better of you, and your words came out heated. The referee was clearly unimpressed with your complaints and wasn’t budging.

Paige stepped in front of you, concluding your one-sided heated conversation with the referee. She grabbed your arm with one hand and placed the other on your lower back to guide you away. “C’mere,” she mumbled, steering you back to the bench. You sat down, a little calmer than before but still huffing and puffing that you hadn’t gotten to say everything you wanted to.

Paige sat next to you, her entire body turned in your direction as she nearly fell off the seat. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, and she knew exactly what to do to get you to calm down. “Talk to me,” she threw out huskily, knowing you had to actually get what you had to say out before resting. You were already on it.

“That girl has been all over me all night,” you began, words tumbling out in a rush. “Do you know how many fouls I’ve been cheated out of? It’s like she’s got it out for me. And the refs are fucking blind to it—this is bullshit..”

As you rambled on, Paige couldn’t tear her eyes away from you. She was perplexed at how you could look so good even while angry. Her eyes darted between yours and your lips the entire time, her lips slightly parted. Though you were loud, she barely heard a word, her ears blocking out all of the trash talk you let flow. Paige was captivated, caught between her desire to comfort you with reassuring words and letting you take her in the locker room after the game, which seemed to intensify with every fiery word you spoke.

Her head rested in one of her hands, and just as you finished speaking you turned to her, catching her lingering gaze on your lips. This out of all things made you crack a smile. “Paige,” you snapped her out of her short daze, her eyes averting back to yours.

“Yeah?” she mumbled, sitting up straighter now as she reached her hands behind her head to adjust her ponytail.

Your eyes followed her without your head moving for a moment, your smile only growing bigger as you realized why she was staring at you that way. “What?” she questioned, her smile being heard through it, faking her oblivion as she looked at you.

“You’re so fucking horny, bro.” you shook your head, smiling bright at her as she threw her head back, laughing, but she didn’t disagree. What you didn’t know, was that your interaction was caught on camera being televised—and of course screen recorded.

user1. lip readers get on this 😭

user2. Paige is down bad CONFIRMED

user3. The way she’s looking at her omg I physically can’t

user4. PAIGE MADISON BUECKERS!?!?

user5. are they dating?

user6. No

user7. I hope so

user8. nooo way this is real LMFAOOO

user9. her eyes shifting between her lips and eyes ohhh she’s so down bad

user10. FRIENDS DON’T LOOK AT FRIENDS THAT WAY!?!?

user11. wouldn’t be surprised if they’re fucking

user12. these comments are crazy as hell 😭

#paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #paige x reader #lgbtq #uconn wbb #uconn huskies

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reidrum · 8 months ago

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all yours if you want me | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

a/n: i think i really like this but if i proofread it one more time im gonna hate it so im just putting it out now lol. this is the full version of the sneak peak i posted last week woohoo ! also this is my first time writing smut so im sorry if it sucks but i hope y'all like it <3

summary: bau's got their first day off in weeks, and you're heading straight to the club to have some fun, you just didn't expect your coworker/crush to also be there while you're trying to forget him.

cw: 18+ minors pls dni, smut, p in v (dont be silly wrap ur willy), munch!spence, lowkey softdom!spence, suggestive dancing in public spaces, minor insecure reader, reader is afab and wears a dress and heels

wc: 4.6k

pls let me know if i forgot anything and let me know your thoughts pleaseee xx

it was the first friday night off you and any of the team members of the bau had in a long time, and you all were determined to spend it well. jj and hotch immediately went home to their families, penelope and emily decided they were going home to get some well needed rest, rossi went to a cigar club, not really sure what derek and spencer ended up doing, but you knew what you were doing tonight.

you’d had a long standing invitation from one of your college friends for a club night, and at first you’d decline because you’d get swept away on a case, and because you were hopelessly pining after your hot nerdy coworker dr. spencer reid.

spencer was smart in many ways, three PhDs, countless published papers, not to mention that eidetic memory of his. there was one thing that spencer was just fucking dumb at, and it was your shameless flirting at him.

like it annoyed you how clueless he was. you’d bring him coffee in the mornings with hearts drawn on it, fall asleep on his shoulder on the jet rides back, even complimenting his outfit or looks which made him flustered, but still nothing. your harbored crush seemed to stay just that, a crush. and while you’d hope he would get the hint he just hasn’t.

so you pull out your phone to text your friend.

“barry’s at 9?”

“oh my god FINALLY. i’m there i'll pick you up at 8:30.”

you grin to yourself, this was good. you needed to get out and unwind for once.

you drive home quickly to hop in the shower before your friend comes to get you. throwing on a silk slip dress as your outfit of choice, you slipped your heels on and met your friend in the car.

walking into the club, you’re met with the thumping bass of the music playing and the staunch smell of alcohol, sweat, and sex.

it made you think about the last time you got laid, which was a really long time ago. and honestly you wanted to sleep with spencer so bad you hadn’t been making advances elsewhere. but that was going to change tonight, you were determined to have good slutty fun, and hopefully get laid.

your friend grabbed your hand and beelined to the bar, ordering two tequila shots each. once you downed them you moved to the dance floor and started preying for a target. as you’re scanning the room, you notice a familiar looking mop of brown hair standing next to bald headed man. a combo you knew all too well.

derek morgan was a player. and before he’s a player, he’s a damn good friend. which was his reasoning for dragging spencer out of his apartment to come out to the club and have fun.

“but i can have fun at home by myself morgan.”

“kid, you need to let loose once in a while. you are young, i’m just helping you take advantage of it.”

so now spencer’s at the club (a sentence he still struggles to believe) wearing trousers and navy button down shirt to which morgan had popped the top buttons open because ‘it gives the ladies a sneak peek’. he just rolled his eyes and went with it. he’s nursing a shirley temple at the bar, perusing the environment when he comes across a pair of eyes he knows like the back of his hand.

when you recognize the amber eyes you couldn’t believe your luck. of course, on the one night you’d decided to explore other options he shows up in the least expected place for him to be. so much for getting over him, you think. shyly raising your hand to wave, spencer returns the gesture. morgan takes note, “who are you waving t- oh, pretty girl is here huh pretty boy?” he nudges him.

a blush raises on his face. spencer thought you were attractive, like really attractive. you were a great addition to the bau and he admired your work ethic a lot, the day you walked into the bullpen wearing a fitted pantsuit had his own pants growing real tight. he still remembers when you introduced yourself and he couldn’t even get up without exposing himself. you thankfully didn’t think it was weird, and spencer was relieved when it was finally time to go home. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have nights where he wished you were the one finishing him off and not his rough hands. he didn’t think you’d like someone like him, and took all of your ‘advances’ as morgan calls them, as acts of kindness.

morgan laughs as he watches spencer’s iq deteriorate to below 50 staring at you, “do you what you gotta do man. but you better be going home with someone tonight okay?”

spencer nods and nurses his drink a bit and looks back to morgan to realize he’s already off dancing with some girls in the corner. damn.

after your distanced encounter with spencer, you decide it’s time to move on and have some fun on your own. you couldn’t be hung up on him anymore, at least not tonight. tonight was for bad decisions.

good thing bad decision walked up to you asking to dance, whatshisname leads you to the dance floor and puts his hands on your hips, swaying to the beats of t-pain and pitbull.

you didn’t know, but spencer was watching every move you made. he watched you get led to the dance floor, the way he placed his hands right on your ass and squeezed, and how he turned you around so you were dancing on his front with your back. he gripped his glass so tight the bartender had to tell him he’d have to pay if it breaks.

he gets it, you’re attractive. this is the kind of thing that happens to people who look like you. who wouldn’t want you? but then he watched it happen a second time. and a third. and a fourth and fifth, till he just stopped counting at nine for his sanity.

spencer was not used to the green monster taking over him, but oh god was he fucking seething with jealousy.

you realized spencer was watching you by whatshisname number five. he hadn’t moved from his spot and he was constantly staring in your direction. deciding to do a little experiment, you played up your dancing a lot more, acting more flirtatious, dragging the guy’s hands further down, and letting out open mouthed moans that you knew spencer couldn’t hear but could definitely see. you watched as his jaw shifted and his knuckles turned white as you danced with each guy, realizing the growing effect that you now had on him.

by whatshisname number nine, you casted your hook. making sure to face spencer and meet his eyes, you watched as they darkened when he realized you were looking right at him. spencer might’ve brushed it off as a coincidence, but then you winked at him. and he realized what you were doing—you were taunting him, and fuck was it working for him. the bulge in his pants grew uncomfortable that he had to stand up to not draw so much attention to it under the bar lights.

you watched him stand up and adjust himself and you threw your line. when he looked back up at you, you made a come here motion with your index finger and a bite of your lip. spencer’s eyes darkened impossibly more, he paid for his tab and strode over to you.

sinker.

he pulled you from the man behind you, who muttered a ‘what the fuck’ and moved away. spencer pulled you flush to his chest and with a low voice in the crest of your ear he whispered, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about dr. reid, could you explain it to me?”

spencer tightens his hold on you and ghosts over your ear once more, “this is a dangerous game you’re playing, sweetheart.”

“a game you joined the second you walked over here.”

he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and matched the small smirk on your lips. game on.

the song changed to something with a more sultry beat, and you used the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck and let his hands guide your hips to the music. while he wasn’t much of a dancer, he could definitely keep a beat. it didn’t prove to be so difficult when your chest was pushing up on his own that he was just waiting for them to spill out. he realized he could feel your hardened nipples through your slip, the nubs rubbing friction through the fabric of their clothes. he moaned internally while he gripped your hips to pull you even closer. it was clear spencer seemed to be getting comfortable with moving your body and holding you close, but you couldn’t let that happen.

before the second chorus you turn around in his arms so your back is pressed up against his front, and you start dancing on him.

spencer’s taken by surprise, something you felt when his hands faltered the confident rhythm it kept up, and while he watched you dance just like this with all those guys it’s like his mind is blank now.

you recognize the song playing, collide by justine skye & tyga, and use the sultry beat to your advantage. you move your ass hard on his front, feeling his length pressed between your cheeks. you gesture for him to lean his head down and he lets out a low groan as you whisper in his ear, “all that for me?”.

a primal instinct starts to take over spencer’s being, and he grips your hips to meet his rutting from behind. spencer was desperate for any friction that could soothe the growing ache in his pants. you grinned as you felt take what he needed from you. it was quickly wiped off your face when you felt his hands inching dangerously close to where you really wanted him. you place your hands on his with surprise and look at him, “what are you doing?”

“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he threw back at you, “but if there’s something you’d like me to do, i’m all ears.” spencer grazes his fingers under the hem of your dress, toying with the lace band of your panties and slipping his fingers below it to stroke your inner thighs.

fuck. he turned it on you so fast it almost gave you whiplash. the provocative dancing was something you could handle, hell everyone on that dance floor was doing the same thing as you both. what you weren’t sure you could handle was him about to touch you in a public space. but, your body betrayed you as it turned you on to another plane. you look up at him with lust filled eyes and let out a breathy moan of his name. spencer collapses internally and stands his ground, “if you want something, beg me.”

spencer thinks he’s won the upper hand, and he’s feeling so smug behind you. he still thinks he has the upper hand until you reach down and place his middle and index finger in your mouth, circling your tongue around the digits.

“touch me.” you moan out, releasing his fingers.

spencer is dumbfounded how he’s the one about to burst out his pants when he made you beg for him. it should make him feel embarrassed at how close he was, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. not when you in his arms pleading him to do something. you sounded so pretty, and who was he to deny a pretty thing like you?

his fingers continue their journey down, outlining the lace trim resting on your thighs. he hooks his fingers on the fabric to pull it aside and slips into you, going at an aching pace to gather the wetness and groaning out, “jesus, you’re so wet, was this all for me? you needed my attention that bad, baby?”

you whimper and grip his hand even tighter because you’re not sure if your legs are holding out any longer. it’s all so overwhelming—having his hands down your panties in the middle of the dance floor, the lewdity of the noises in your ear, the hard length pressing desperately on your ass. this is all you’ve ever wanted from him, to want you. and now it’s happening, and your brain can’t fire the neurons fast enough to process the moment. instead your body responded with your skin heating up with anticipation, heart beating out as much adrenaline to keep up. the daze is getting foggier by the second as he trails his fingers up and down your slit, spreading the wetness and circling your clit on the way up. and you think you’re about to get accustomed to the pace he’s set, when he delves between your folds and you moan out loud so abruptly that the nearby patrons looked around wondering where it came from.

you can feel spencer’s shit eating grin behind you as he moves his head down to leave love bites on your neck. if he can feel your bluff dissipating, he’s not saying anything. his fingers set a painfully slow rhythm, and you grind down trying to get any more friction to reach your peak. he’s hitting you in all the right spots that make you see the stars and beyond, leaning your head back on his chest as you barrel towards your climax. you feel yourself mere seconds away from reaching, and spencer suddenly pulls his fingers out, making you whine out in protest, “wh- what are you doing?”

spencer grabs your wrist and starts dragging you through the sweaty bodies surrounding you, tightening his grip with a small smirk as he passes a few of the guys you were dancing with earlier. suckers.

he pushes the doors open with a force and while the cool air is attempting to return your body to homeostasis, the anticipation of where he’s going overtakes you, “spence, where are we going wh-“ you cut off your sentence with a gasp as he handles you flush to the door of his car. then it’s just silence for a few moments. no loud bass or weird dudes, just the two of you. the only sound that can be heard are your breaths competing for prominence. you look up at him and focus on the details of his face illuminated by the moonlight, trying to read his expression. his honeyed eyes have fully darkened to a lustful hickory, and suddenly you felt like a gazelle being preyed on by a lion.

he reaches into his pocket and unlocks the car with a soft beep. it’s the focused eyes on you that drive you to open the door, but it’s the subtle silent nod of his head towards the car that makes you move inside waiting for him to join you. he climbs in after you, shutting the door and locking it.

spencer moves to the middle seat and allows his legs to spread open, he taps his thighs and faintly says, “come here.”

you shuffle closer and swing your legs over him, your dress rising up a little as you fully sit on his clothed crotch. and now you realize the corporeality of the moment. it’s like, really real now. all this time pining after the boy genius with no luck and now he’s got you in the backseat of his car and your panties crooked, waiting for you to move. the bravado you wore and so tightly held onto for a majority of the night comes crashing down like a shattered vase, and you’re not sure if you have any more in you to salvage the pieces. you may be a profiler, but try as you might you are not a mind reader, yet you so desperately want to know what he’s thinking. is it too much to ask what this means? will it overwhelm him to say you’ve dreamt about this moment for many nights, and how those dreams went on till the early morning when he’d stay and brush your hair back with a temple kiss. the whispers of sweet nothings sticking to you like honey as you got ready for the day. are these questions you even want to know the answer to?

you may not be a mind reader, but he is dr. spencer reid, who noticed your demeanor change after too long of a silence.

“hey,” he holds your chin delicately to your eyes, “it’s okay if you want to stop, i’m sorry for tak-“

it’s your turn to cut him off, “no! no i, i still want this, i just,” you falter.

“just what, baby?” he coos softly.

it makes tears well up in your eyes, you hope he can’t see them, “i’ve just wanted this for so long, and it’s probably embarrassing that i’m admitting this now of all times, but i don’t know if i can handle this meaning more to me than it does to you.” you confess quietly.

spencer listens to your admission and gingerly resecures his arm behind you, a position he thinks is starting to become second nature. he rubs soft shapes into the small of your back, “what makes you think that?”

“because i basically threw myself at you tonight, and it seems to be the first time you noticed me.” you say halfheartedly.

“you think i don’t notice you?” he whispers, leaning in to leave soft kisses in the crook of your neck. spencer is dumbfounded, confused at how you reached such a conclusion. but as a man of science, he feels there’s only one way to prove himself. he breathes your name out, “can i show you how much i notice you? please?”

you nod, at least you could commit this moment to memory if it was all you’d have left of him. he presses his lips to yours for the first time that night, your breath faltering as he becomes more feverous with his attacks. slotting his tongue with yours, your hands move up to his silky hair to take purchase in. he lets out a groan as he pulls back from you, “i need to taste you.”

he guides your body to lean back on the center console, the only way his tall figure would be able to accommodate this position. your legs are still split on either side of his legs, using your hands to prop yourself up to watch his movements. he hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties and slowly slides them down, moaning at the way your slick causes resistance as he pulls them off your legs. wrapping his arms under your thighs to lift you up to face level, he places small kisses on your inner thighs as he makes his way to your core. he places a final kiss on your center before licking a long stripe up to your clit. moaning out wantonly, he continues his ministrations and kitten licks all over you, circling back up to your clit after each round.

“spence..” you whine out. he moves his focus to your clit, circling and sucking till you’re squirming in his arms so much has to grip your thighs. your hands are fussing through his hair, gripping and pulling to find something to ground you. spencer then slips his fingers into your core for the second time tonight, and you lose it.

he’s pumping his fingers in and out, that all you can hear is the squelching noises of your cunt. adding another one, you’re unable to stay still anymore, as if you were before.

“oh my fuck, spencer. i’m gonna cu-, cum. please don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” you moan out filthy.

spencer unlatches his mouth for a moment, “come for me, baby.”

your orgasm crashes down on you like a wave breaking on the shore. it’s all consuming, leaving you shaking and breathless and he lifts his head from between your legs and you see his chin glistening with you in the moonlight. the sight itself is so pornographic, you can’t help but shuffle back onto his lap to crash your lips back to his, tasting yourself on his tongue. he tangles his hands in your hair as you move yours between you both, unzipping his trousers to palm him through his boxers.

he breakily moans in your ear as you slowly pull back the band to take him out. the sight takes you by surprise, you knew he was big, you felt it on your ass while you were dancing. but seeing how it compared to your hand had you bulging your eyes.

“you’re so big,” you whisper. how the hell was that fitting inside of you?

spencer the mind reader places his hand on top of yours as you lazily stroke him, “we’ll go slow, don’t worry.” he can’t help but feel his ego inflate to the skies, he can’t remember the last time he had someone look intimidated by him.

nodding faintly, you gather the spit in your mouth and let it fall between you both to land on the flushed pink tip. you spread it up and down his length, setting a slow pace that had him moaning expletives in your ear.

“oh-, ohhh, fuck baby. you’re so good at that holy shit,” he says trying to hold himself together. you give him a few more pumps before lifting your hips up to guide him inside you. you move his tip to your entrance, rubbing it teasingly before spencer places his hands on your sides to stabilize you, and slowly sink you down onto him.

the second his tip pushes past your folds, you both moan out in harmony. placing your hands on his shoulders you leverage yourself to sink down further inch by inch, until your core is flush with the base of his thighs.

spencer is a man of many words, maybe too many. but right now the only word he can remember is your name as he watched you take his length whole inch by inch slowly losing any restraint he had left. the pressure his cock had inside of you was heavenly. you’d never felt so full, and you could tell he was trying so hard to stay still as you adjusted above him.

when you bottom out spencer throws his head back against the seat, “oh that’s it, good girl,” you clenched around him. “you okay?”

you nod in response, ignoring the way the term of endearment sent flutters to your heart, and attempt an experimental rock of your hips, causing spencer’s head to whip up and meet your lust blown eyes with his own. he adjusts his hands on the sides of your thighs and starts helping you move up and down on his length, setting a brutally slow pace.

you rest your head and moan into the crook of his neck as he continues his movements, “spencer, please, more, i can take it.”

he still can’t believe what’s happening right now, all those days he spent thinking about you in the bullpen, at home, everywhere really, and here you were begging on top of him to fuck you good.

“you still think i don’t notice you?” he says into your ear, “i have dreamt about what you’d look like bouncing on my cock, and you are blowing any idea i had out of the water.”

you whimper as he continues, “and when i’m not thinking about ruining you, i am in awe at how you walk through life. you bring so much joy everywhere you go, it’s a blessing to be able to experience you.” he says through shaky breaths.

the praise goes straight to core, with some traveling to your heart again, and you’re not sure how much longer you can hold on before you unravel physically and emotionally.

his hands are guiding you up and down at a harder pace now, “so,” thrust. “you still think,” thrust, “i don’t notice you?” he thrusts into you once more and holds you down, making sure you’re looking directly at him, “it was never an option to brush past you, you are everything to me. i didn’t know how to show that without overwhelming you. i’m sorry.”

tears well up in your eyes again, spencer notices this time and presses a small kiss on your forehead. all your senses feel like they’re in overdrive, unable to comprehend anything right now. your skin feels like it’s on fire as he rolls your hips faster to meet his ruts.

“spence, i- i’m so close.” you whine desperately.

he slips his hand between you both to rub your clit, “i know baby, i’ve got you. let go for me.”

his words were enough to break the dam, your second climax of the night hurling towards you. the white hot feeling overtook your whole body, shaking and clenching above him. your grip on him was threateningly vicious, probably leaving deep crescent marks in the nape of his shoulders. you wish the euphoria would last forever if it meant having spencer like this. as you came down from your high, the two of you were still moving together, slowly rocking your hips to meet each other. once you were grounded again, you pushed through the sensitivity in your core to rise up on his length, just barely leaving the tip in before you slid back down fast and hard, now focusing on spencer reaching his peak.

“oh jesus, fuck.” spencer moaned out brokenly.

“come on spence you can do it,” you taunted as you clenched down, “come inside me, make a mess of me please.” a rush of confidence flowed through as you whispered into his ear, and spencer held your hips to help you bounce faster on him.

spencer let out a loud groan as you felt the hot spurts coat your insides, he was leaving matching crescent marks on the sides of your hips as the ones on his shoulders, making sure all of him was left in you. feeling him soften inside, you remained on his lap with him sheathed in you. you both are breathing heavily, leaning back to hopefully give you both some relief from the sex filled air. looking around the car you realize that all the windows are fogged up and let out a tiny giggle.

“what’s so funny?” he looks up at you slightly amused and very out of breath.

“no it’s just, the windows are such a dead giveaway for what we just did in here.”

“eh, i don’t really care what people think.”

“gasp, dr. reid wants to let the world know he has car sex with random girls?”

he leans in to bite your neck playfully, “random? did nothing i said during all that register for you?”

you yelp and attempt to play dumb, “actually i don’t remember a word, you might have to jog my memory. maybe even recreate the circumstances to help with cementing it. i read about situational memorization where certain scenarios are easily remembered when there’s a big event to anchor it to.”

he swears he could’ve melted on the spot at you explaining a concept you’d read about to him, “careful sweetheart, calling it a big event might inflate my ego a little too high.”

“i mean, i can tell it worked,” you tease as you feel him harden inside of you again, “so tell me genius, how many times does a scenario have to happen for me to remember the information?”

“i guess we’ll have to find out, don’t we?”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #mgg #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #bau team #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot

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rafesangelita · 8 months ago

Note

rafe + gun play 🫠

warnings: dealer!rafe, bratty!reader, gunplay, a little self discovery lol

“will you put that down already? jesus, you’re going to kill somebody.” rafe took the loaded gun out of your hand, his tall figure towering over your own. you two had been stuck here at barry’s dingy trailer for about an hour already, rafe’s business partner leaving your boyfriend in charge of looking after his shit while he ran a few errands. “i’m bored! what are we supposed to do here, ray?” you followed rafe back inside, plopping down on the couch with a sigh.

“just sit and look pretty. barry should be here soon.” he emptied the chamber of the gun, placing it on the kitchen counter. “but i’ve been doing that!” rafe pinched the bridge of his nose, “y/n..” his tone was firm, a warning for you to stop giving him a hard time. ultimately surrendering, you fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of your denim skirt. you two sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes until rafe joined you on the couch.

“what’s your sudden interest in my gun about? i thought you hated that thing.” he draped an arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side. you smiled, knowing he was warming up to you because he felt bad for getting stern with you earlier. “i did.. but i saw you use it the other day and i wanted to see how it would feel in my hands.” your hand was under his shirt, fingertips tracing shapes into the soft skin of his abdomen. “and what did you think?” he hummed.

“well, i don’t know. somebody took it away from me before i could figure out how i felt about it.” rafe shook his head, retrieving the gun before cautiously handing it over to you. running the pads of your fingers across the cold metal, you shivered slightly when your mind went back to the cracking noise it made when you first saw rafe fire it. “so?” he leaned in, the stark contrast between your pink manicured nails, and the black color of steel, making a humored smile form on his lips.

“it’s heavy..” you held it up, with rafe’s assistance of course. “it’s heavier when there’s ammunition in it.” he placed his hand over yours, making you grip the handle. “ammunition?” your eyebrows knitted in confusion. “bullets, babe.” you giggled, “oh, right.” rafe pressed a kiss to your temple before bringing you up to your feet. “you see that beer can on the table? aim at it.” you tried to ignore the way the buckle of his belt pressed against your ass, a shaky breath leaving your lips once you had the gun pointed at your target.

“pull the trigger.” your heart was beating in your ears as you slowly pulled, flinching once you heard the hollow click of the barrel. “see? it’s easy.” you sighed in relief, jumping excitedly as rafe laughed along with you. “can we load it now?” rafe stopped abruptly, clearing his throat. “no.” he reached for the gun, making you move away before he had the chance to take it again. “give it, it’s not a toy-” he froze when you pointed it at him. even though there was nothing inside the damned thing, the sight of you smiling with a weapon in your hand was unsettling… and kind of sexy?

“aw, are you scared ray?” you pushed the metal into his chest, “sit down.” rafe did as he was told, holding his hands up defensively as he settled into the couch cushions beneath him. you couldn’t help the satisfied feeling that pooled in your belly from having your usually dominant boyfriend now bending at your will. “take your shirt off.” the corner of rafe’s lips lifted in a smirk. surprisingly for him, he was enjoying every second of you thinking you had the one up on him.

he slipped the garment off, your eyes traveling down his torso. god, your boyfriend was glorious. rafe leaned back, manspreading as you stood between his thighs. “what do you think you’re gonna do with that?” you shrugged at his words, trailing the gun up his thigh “i don’t know.. maybe make you take your pants off next.” your next move was a bold one, but it riled up rafe in the best way possible. with the firearm now pressed against his erection, he was practically buzzing with the need to flip the script on you.

as if on cue, you heard the motor of a dirt bike riding up the dirt path to the trailer. rafe took your moment of distraction as a chance to grab the gun out of your grasp, which was deemed successful when he pulled you down onto his lap, the steel now digging into the skin of your thigh. “thought you were tough shit, huh?” you whimpered at the slightly painful sensation, his arm draped over your chest, holding you in place.

“no!” you squeaked, a shiver running down your spine as he trailed the gun between your legs, briefly touching your clothed cunt before bringing it up to your chest. “still think we should load it now?” rafe teased. you shook your head, confused as to why you felt horny with a gun pointed to your cheek. just as you grinded yourself against his hardened cock, barry walked in with a duffle bag. “what are y’all freaks getting into now?”

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ducktoo · 1 month ago

Text

Who…are you?

LE SSERAFIM’s Chaewon x Reader

Note: dw…it gets weird at the end lol. It's a long ride as well so get comfortable.

And this will be my final fic of 2024! Thank you everyone for liking my stuff and happy holidays! Will be back for more in mid January!

(this is too lethal-)

The sound of the door slamming shut reverberates through the apartment, rattling the picture frames on the walls. You stare at it for a long moment, your jaw tight and your hands clenching into fists at your sides. Another fight. Another evening ruined.

The quiet that follows is suffocating, a stark contrast to the venomous words Chaewon had thrown at you just minutes ago. You drag yourself to the kitchen, barely registering the cold plates of food still waiting on the counter. The dinner you had spent hours making feels like a cruel joke now. You don’t have the appetite to eat it, let alone the energy to put it away.

This is how it’s been lately. Chaewon’s words, once playful and teasing, have turned into weapons. The sharp remarks and biting sarcasm that used to make you laugh now cut you to the core. She gets angry over the smallest things, and somehow, you always end up being the target.

It wasn’t always this way—or at least, it didn’t feel like it.

You think back to a week ago, when Chaewon had been in one of her moods. You had been trying to fix the kitchen faucet, fumbling with the wrench and getting water sprayed in your face. Chaewon had walked in, leaning casually against the doorframe with that signature smirk on her face.

“Wow,” she had said, crossing her arms. “Didn’t know I was dating a plumber-in-training. Or are you auditioning for a clown role with that water trick?”

You’d forced a laugh, wiping your face with your sleeve. “Very funny, Chae. Want to help?”

She had scoffed, walking over and peering down at the mess you’d made. “Help? Why would I do that when watching you flounder is so much more entertaining?”

You had shot her a look, and she had just grinned, flicking water at you before sauntering off.

Then there was the time she’d decided to pick on your cooking.

You’d spent hours trying to make her favourite spicy rice cakes from scratch, wanting to surprise her after a long day. She had walked into the kitchen, sniffing the air dramatically.

“What’s that smell?” she had asked, wrinkling her nose. “Did something die in here?”

You’d frowned, gesturing to the pot. “It’s tteokbokki. I thought you’d like it.”

She’d leaned over the pot, taking a cautious sniff before pulling back like it had personally offended her. “Are you sure? Because it looks like a science experiment gone wrong.”

You’d tried to laugh it off, but the sting of her words had lingered long after she’d gone back to scrolling on her phone.

The teasing wasn’t just verbal, either. Chaewon had a knack for finding your weak spots and exploiting them with surgical precision. Like the time you’d tripped over the rug in the living room and spilled coffee all over your work papers.

“Nice one, Y/N,” she had said from the couch, barely looking up. “Maybe next time, try walking like a normal human instead of whatever that was.”

“I could use some help cleaning this up,” you’d said, your voice strained as you crouched to pick up the soggy papers.

She had glanced at you over the rim of her coffee mug, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Or you could just not trip next time. Problem solved.”

Despite all of it, you stayed. You told yourself it was just her personality—that she didn’t mean to hurt you. You convinced yourself that the moments of warmth, rare as they were, made up for the constant jabs. Like when she’d fallen asleep on your shoulder during a movie, her hand unconsciously clutching yours. Or the one time she’d hugged you after you’d had a particularly bad day, whispering, “I’m here,” so softly it almost didn’t feel real.

But those moments were becoming fewer and farther between, buried under the weight of her sharp words and cold demeanour.

The hours tick by as you sit at the dining table, staring at nothing. You don’t even hear the buzz of your phone at first. When it vibrates again, more insistent this time, you snap out of your daze and pick it up. The caller ID shows Kazuha’s name.

“Hello?” Your voice cracks, still hoarse from the argument.

“Y/N,” Kazuha’s voice is urgent, tinged with panic. “You need to come to the hospital. It’s Chaewon.”

Your heart stops. “What happened?”

“She got into an accident. Just… get here as fast as you can.”

The hospital is a blur of sterile white walls and harsh fluorescent lights. The antiseptic smell fills your nostrils as you rush through the corridors, searching for the right room. Your chest feels tight, your breaths shallow. Kazuha meets you outside, her face pale and her hands trembling slightly.

“She’s stable,” Kazuha says quickly, trying to reassure you. “But she hit her head pretty hard. The doctors are saying she might have some memory loss.”

“Memory…loss?” The words barely register as you push past her and into the room.

Chaewon lies on the bed, her face pale and peaceful in a way that feels wrong. A bandage is wrapped around her head, a stark white contrast against her dark hair. You approach her slowly, your steps hesitant.

“Chae?” you whisper, sitting down beside her. Her lashes flutter, and she stirs slightly before her eyes open. Relief floods through you as you lean closer.

“You’re awake,” you say, your voice trembling. “Thank god. You’re okay.”

Her eyes blink slowly, focusing on you. For a moment, it feels like everything will be fine. But then her brow furrows, and she tilts her head slightly.

“Who… are you?” she asks, her voice soft but filled with confusion.

You blink, frozen in place. Her words echo in your mind: Who… are you?

Kazuha places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “Y/N, let’s step outside for a moment. The doctor wants to talk to you.”

Your gaze lingers on Chaewon’s confused expression, and you force a shaky smile. “I’ll be right back,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

She nods faintly, though you can tell she’s unsure why you’re even here. Her eyes flicker to Kazuha for a brief moment before she leans back against the pillows, exhaustion taking over.

Once you’re out in the hallway, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. The doctor approaches, a clipboard in hand and a calm but professional demeanour.

“You must be Y/N,” he says. “I’m Dr. Park. I’ve been handling Ms. Kim's case.”

"Ah yea, evening Doc." You nod, gripping the hem of your shirt nervously. “What’s… what’s wrong with her? Is she going to be okay?”

“She’s stable,” he reassures you, glancing at his notes. “But as you might have guessed, the head trauma has caused some memory loss. From our initial tests, it appears she’s unable to recall the past two years.”

“T-two years?” You repeat, your voice trembling. You glance through the small window into her room, watching as Chaewon lies there, her face serene and unaware.

Dr. Park nods. “This type of retrograde amnesia isn’t uncommon in cases like hers. The memories she’s lost may come back over time, or they might not. For now, it’s best not to push her to remember. Stress could make her condition worse.”

“Does she know… does she know anything about me?” you ask hesitantly.

The doctor hesitates. “She remembers people and events prior to the memory gap clearly. But anyone she’s met in the last two years, including you… I’m afraid you’ll be a stranger to her.”

His words hit you harder than you expect, but you nod, trying to keep your expression neutral. “So, what should I do? How do I… help her?”

“Take things slow,” he advises. “Reintroduce yourself as someone here to support her. Let her regain her sense of normalcy first. The rest will come with time, if it’s meant to.”

You thank him quietly, your mind racing. A strange mix of relief and uncertainty bubbles within you. She doesn’t remember the fights, the sharp words, the constant tension—but she also doesn’t remember the good moments, the times when you thought there was still hope.

A part of you feels like this is a reset button, a rare chance to start over. But another part can’t shake the hollow ache of being erased from her life so completely.

You take a steadying breath before walking back into the room. Chaewon’s eyes flit to you as you enter, her expression unreadable.

“Hey,” you say softly, pulling a chair closer to her bedside.

She tilts her head, studying you carefully. “You… You’re Kazuha’s friend, right?”

You glance at Kazuha, who gives you a subtle nod of encouragement from the doorway. Turning back to Chaewon, you force a small smile. “Yeah. I’m just… here to help however I can.”

Chaewon seems to accept this, though the skepticism in her eyes remains. “Thanks, I guess,” she mutters, her voice laced with tiredness.

As she closes her eyes to rest, you lean back in the chair, letting out a slow breath. A small part of you feels lighter than you have in months. No arguments, no cutting remarks—just quiet. Peaceful, even.

But as you watch her, the weight of her blank stare still lingers in your chest. The person you love doesn’t know who you are. And yet, you can’t help but think: maybe this is a chance to show her a version of yourself she could love all over again.

For now, you let the hope settle, hidden behind the mask of quiet sadness you wear for her sake.

The week passes in a blur. Chaewon’s recovery is faster than anyone expected. Physically, she’s almost back to normal, but the gap in her memory remains. You watch her adjust to this new reality, navigating her day-to-day life with a mix of determination and frustration.

True to the doctor’s advice, you’ve been patient, reintroducing yourself as a supportive figure in her life without overwhelming her. She accepts your presence without question—polite, a little guarded, but far removed from the sharp-tongued firecracker you’ve known for so long.

Her management team decided it would be best for Chaewon to ease back into her idol activities gradually. You accompany her, not as her partner, but as someone who can help with her day-to-day needs. Kazuha and Sakura are visibly relieved to have you there, knowing how well you understand Chaewon’s habits.

On set, Chaewon is a model of professionalism. She’s diligent, respectful, and surprisingly soft-spoken. When she doesn’t understand something—a choreography move, a filming cue—she asks politely instead of figuring it out on her own like she used to.

“It’s weird,” she admits to you one evening, fiddling with the hem of her sweatshirt. “I don’t remember the last two years, but I still know all the lyrics and choreography. It’s like muscle memory, I guess.”

You smile faintly from where you’re sitting across the room. “That’s a good thing, right? At least it’s one less thing to stress about.”

She nods, her brows furrowing. “I guess. But it feels like I’m walking into someone else’s life. Like, who was I? Was I…” She pauses, searching for the right words. “Was I any good at it?”

You hesitate, a pang of guilt twisting in your chest. She was more than good—she was extraordinary. But her fiery ambition often bled into her personal life, creating the tension that had defined your relationship. Now, all you see is a softer, more vulnerable Chaewon.

“You were great,” you say finally. “Still are.”

Her lips twitch into a small smile, and for once, there’s no sharp remark to follow it.

You’re there in the background, watching as she joined with her members, laughs softly at their jokes, and engages with fans with genuine warmth. It’s such a far cry from the Chaewon who used to tease you mercilessly or snap when she was stressed.

At first, it’s disorienting.

One afternoon, as you help her organize a stack of photo cards at a fan sign event, she flashes you a small, almost shy smile.

“Thanks,” she says quietly, her tone devoid of the usual edge you once expected.

You nearly drop the cards. “No problem,” you manage, your voice awkward.

She doesn’t seem to notice, already turning back to greet the next fan with her signature smile.

Another day at their practice room, you accompany her under the pretence of helping her settle back in. The truth is, you just want to see this new side of her in action.

Chaewon seems… different. Lighter. She laughs with her members more, her usual sharp edge replaced by something softer. You watch from the corner of the practice room as she playfully ruffles Eunchae’s hair, earning a squeal of protest from the younger girl.

“Unnie, stop!” Eunchae whines, swatting Chaewon’s hand away.

Chaewon grins, her eyes crinkling in that familiar way that always made your heart skip a beat. “What? I’m just making sure our maknae looks her best.”

The rest of the group chuckles, and you find yourself smiling too. It’s a scene you’d rarely witnessed before, where Chaewon seems completely at ease with herself and those around her.

During their lunch break, Kazuha sits beside you, nudging your shoulder. “You’ve been staring at her a lot.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Have I…?”

Kazuha smirks. “Yeah. You look like you’re seeing a whole new Chaewon.”

You glance at Chaewon, who’s currently chatting animatedly with Sakura and Yunjin. “Maybe I am,” you admit quietly.

Kazuha’s expression softens. “It’s good, right? This version of her?”

You nod. “Yeah. It’s… it’s really good.”

By the end of the week, you’re starting to notice the cracks in your own resolve.

You don’t miss the fights—not the arguments or the hurtful words or the way she could turn a perfectly fine evening into a battlefield. What you do miss is the spark.

Chaewon’s teasing, for all its rough edges, had always carried a certain energy. There was a wit to her remarks, a confidence that made everything she said hit just the right spot between infuriating and endearing. You used to catch her smirking at you when she thought you weren’t looking, as if she enjoyed seeing how far she could push your buttons.

Now, she’s… gentle. Easy to be around. And yet, you find yourself yearning for the banter, the fire that kept you on your toes.

It’s a strange contradiction. You enjoy this new version of her, free from the biting remarks and the heavy tension that used to hang between you. But in quiet moments, when she’s busy scrolling through her phone or practicing her vocals, you find yourself wondering if she’d ever smirk at you again.

One evening, after a particularly long day of rehearsals, you’re both sitting in her apartment. Chaewon is sprawled out on the couch, her hair still damp from a quick shower. You’re at the kitchen counter, making tea.

“Y/N,” she calls out suddenly, her voice soft but clear.

You glance over. “Yeah?”

“Why do you always help me?” she asks, her tone genuinely curious.

You pause, gripping the handle of the kettle. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs, sitting up. “You don’t owe me anything. But you’re always here, even when I forget things or need help with stupid stuff. It’s… nice, but I don’t get it.”

Her words catch you off guard. For a moment, you don’t know how to respond.

“I just… care,” you say finally, avoiding her gaze. “I’m here because I want to be, not because I have to be.”

She doesn’t say anything right away. When you glance at her, she’s watching you with an expression you can’t quite place—curiosity mixed with something softer, almost vulnerable.

“Thanks,” she says again, quieter this time.

You nod, busying yourself with the tea to hide the lump forming in your throat.

Later that night, as you lie awake on the couch, you can’t help but reflect on how far things have come—and how much has changed.

This new Chaewon is someone you could fall for all over again. She’s kinder, gentler, more open in ways you never expected. But there’s a part of you that aches for the old Chaewon too—the one who used to challenge you, frustrate you, and make you laugh in ways no one else could.

It’s a bittersweet thought, knowing you may never get her back the way she was. But as you close your eyes, you remind yourself that this is a new beginning, a chance to love her for who she is now, not who she used to be.

And as you began to fall asleep, you can’t help but wonder how long this fragile peace will last.

The days slip by in a strange rhythm, where you’re never quite sure who you’ll see when you look at Chaewon.

At times, it’s like she’s still the same—sweet, easy-going, even a little shy around you. But other times, the fire you remember from before flares up unexpectedly, like a switch flipping.

You’ve gotten used to the gentle, more compliant Chaewon, the one who asks you for help with every little thing. But when her old personality slips through—when she’s sharp, playful, and downright teasing—it’s like the rug gets pulled out from under you.

One morning, you’re getting ready to leave the apartment. Chaewon is sitting on the couch, fiddling with her phone. You make your way toward the door, your keys in hand.

“Hey,” she says, her voice low and almost playful.

You stop and turn, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Her eyes glint mischievously as she leans back on the couch, crossing her arms. “You know, you’re kinda cute when you’re all flustered.”

Your stomach does a nervous flip. “What are you talking about?” You laugh awkwardly, glancing away.

She smirks, the old Chaewon you’ve missed suddenly making an appearance. “The way you get all nervous around me when I say things like that. It’s cute. I think I might start teasing you more.”

Your heart races, half amused and half unsettled. “Chae…” You try to act annoyed, but your tone betrays you. “You don’t even remember me. What do you mean by that?”

She tilts her head, eyes narrowing with something you can’t quite read. “Maybe I don’t remember all the details, but I remember you. The guy who’s always around, always hovering, always trying to help. How could I forget you?”

Your breath catches, a flutter of hope igniting in your chest. But before you can respond, she bursts out laughing. “Just kidding, Y/N. But seriously, don’t you get it? You’re like an open book. So easy to tease.”

It feels like an old routine—one you know well. You grin despite yourself, but the warmth in your chest quickly fades into the familiar uncertainty. Was this just a moment of her old self slipping through, or was it something more?

She gets up, not waiting for an answer, her usual carefree confidence taking over once again. “You should get going. I don’t want you to be late.”

And just like that, the teasing fades, and she’s back to the softer version of herself. You stand there, still feeling the aftershock of the teasing and the warmth from that brief return to the Chaewon you used to know.

Later that week, you’re both at a recording studio for LE SSERAFIM’s comeback preparations.

Chaewon is focused on the choreography, her movements deliberate but careful. You’re sitting in the corner of the room, watching her with a quiet sense of pride, when she suddenly stumbles over a step, losing her balance for a moment.

You instinctively stand up, ready to rush over, but she waves you off with a dismissive hand. “I’m fine,” she mutters, brushing her hair out of her face. “Don’t act like you’re my manager or something.”

Your jaw tightens, the familiar spark of annoyance bubbling up inside you. “Chae, I’m just trying to help.”

She glances up at you, her expression sharp, almost a little… cruel. “Stop acting like I need you to. I’m perfectly capable of doing things on my own.”

You freeze. This is the Chaewon you remember—the one who never asked for help, the one who got irritated when anyone tried to make things easier for her.

For a moment, you forget that she doesn’t remember everything, and your heart sinks. You had hoped this version of her was gone, that the softer, gentler Chaewon would be the one to stay. But here she is, slipping back into her old self, the one who pushed you away when you tried to get close.

“Okay,” you say quietly, masking the hurt in your voice. “I’ll stay out of your way then.”

You sit back down, your hands resting in your lap as the silence stretches between you. Chaewon doesn’t say anything more, but there’s a tension in the air that wasn’t there before.

Over the next few days, these shifts continue. Sometimes, she’s the easy-going Chaewon you’ve gotten used to—polite, soft-spoken, even a little shy in her interactions with you. Other times, she snaps, teasing you with a bite in her words that leaves you reeling, or she’ll shut down, acting distant and cold.

You can’t predict when the old Chaewon will emerge, and it’s disorienting. It’s like she’s two people, and you’re not sure which one you’re going to face each day.

But then, one evening, she surprises you again.

You’re sitting on the couch together, both too tired to say much after a long day of practice. The quiet isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s heavy.

Chaewon’s smile widens, but it’s different this time—not as teasing or sharp. It’s softer, almost tender, like she’s rediscovering something she once knew. She leans back against the couch, her gaze drifting to the ceiling, her thoughts seemingly miles away.

“I think I’m starting to remember more,” she says, her voice almost inaudible.

You freeze, a flutter of hope stirring in your chest. “Remember more?”

She looks at you, a faint smile still tugging at her lips. “Yeah. The old me. The one who used to—” Her words trail off, as if she’s still piecing things together in her mind. “Maybe I was a little too much sometimes… difficult. But I think I’m figuring out who I really am now.”

The words hit you harder than you expect. There’s something almost melancholic in the way she speaks, a quiet acknowledgment of her past, yet also a sense of self-awareness in the present.

You stay silent, watching her closely. There’s no sharp retort, no teasing grin to follow. For a moment, you just exist in this space, caught between who Chaewon was and who she’s becoming.

For a while, neither of you speaks. But you know—no matter which version of her you get, the part of her that’s still here, right now, is still the Chaewon you care about. Maybe it’s not the same, and maybe it never will be, but that doesn’t make it any less real. And for now, that’s enough.

It starts innocently enough—a rare free day where you and Chaewon decide to hang out in your apartment. She’s lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone, while you’re in the kitchen attempting to make lunch. Everything is blissfully normal until you hear her gasp dramatically.

“YAAAA!” she shouts, the intensity of her voice startling you so much that you nearly drop the spatula.

“What? What happened?” you ask, rushing into the living room, half-expecting to see something catastrophic.

Chaewon’s eyes narrow as she points accusingly at you with her phone. “How could you?”

You blink, utterly confused. “How could I… what?”

Her face twists in mock devastation as she waves her phone like it’s evidence in a court case. “I was looking through old photos, and you were smiling way too much in the pictures we took during my memory loss phase.”

You stare at her, waiting for the punchline, but she looks genuinely offended. “What does that even mean?”

“It means,” she says, sitting up and glaring at you, “that you clearly liked her more than me. Admit it!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to process the absurdity of the situation. “Chae, you are her. It’s literally still you.”

“But it’s not me!” she insists, crossing her arms and pouting. “That version of me was sweet and soft and totally not me. You liked her better because she wasn’t mean to you, didn’t she?”

“I—what?” you stammer, completely thrown off. “No! I mean, she was nice, sure, but I didn’t like her better! It’s the same person, Chae!”

“Liar!” she exclaims, standing up and stomping over to you. “You probably enjoyed having her dote on you, didn’t you? Bet you didn’t even miss the real me at all!”

You take a cautious step back, holding your hands up defensively. “I did miss you! And I didn’t cheat on you with... you! That doesn’t even make sense!”

Chaewon huffs, her jealousy reaching peak absurdity. “Oh, it makes perfect sense. I leave for a few weeks mentally, and you’re out here having the time of your life with some soft, clingy version of me. Unbelievable!”

She pokes your chest, her expression a mix of irritation and… something else. “Admit it! You liked how she was all shy and asked for help, didn’t you? Bet you enjoyed being the big, helpful boyfriend for once instead of dealing with me!”

You can’t help it—you burst out laughing. The whole situation is so ridiculous you can’t take it seriously anymore.

“Chaewon, do you hear yourself right now? You’re jealous of yourself.”

Her cheeks flush, and she smacks your arm. “Don’t laugh! This is serious! I’m trying to have a heartfelt moment here.”

“Heartfelt?” you repeat between laughs. “You’re accusing me of emotionally cheating on you with another version of you. That’s not heartfelt—that’s a sitcom plot!”

Chaewon’s pout deepens, but there’s a hint of a smile threatening to break through her faux anger. “Well… maybe I’m a little jealous, okay? You didn’t seem to miss me as much as I thought you would.”

You sigh, shaking your head in exasperation. “Chaewon, I missed you every single day. The real you.”

Her glare falters, but she doesn’t back down. Instead, she crosses her arms and looks away, pouting. “You’re just saying that to get out of trouble.”

You take a cautious step closer, tilting your head to catch her eye. “Trouble for what? Loving my girlfriend, no matter which version of her I get?”

She glances at you, her pout softening slightly. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she mutters under her breath.

Just as you’re about to breathe a sigh of relief, she surprises you by grabbing your shirt and pulling you down to her level. Her lips crash against yours in a kiss so sudden and intense that your brain short-circuits.

When she finally pulls away, she’s still glaring, but there’s a faint blush on her cheeks. “That’s so you don’t forget who you really belong to.”

Before you can respond, she kisses you again, her hands tangling in your hair as if staking her claim. “Chae—”

“Shut up,” she murmurs against your lips. “I’m still mad.”

You can’t help but laugh, your hands settling on her waist. “You don’t seem that mad to me.”

“Don’t push your luck,” she warns, but there’s no real heat in her voice.

By the time she lets you go, you’re both out of breath, and the tension has melted away entirely. She steps back, her arms still crossed, but there’s a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“So,” you say, trying to catch your breath, “are we good now? Or should I prepare for another interrogation about cheating on you with… you?”

She rolls her eyes but leans into your chest, her head resting against you. “We’re good. But if I ever catch you looking at ‘soft Chaewon’ like that again, we’re going to have words.”

You chuckle, wrapping your arms around her. “Noted. But for the record, I love you—sharp edges and all.”

She looks up at you, her smile softening. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me, no matter which version of me shows up.”

Maybe you’ve been accused of cheating, maybe it’s all completely ridiculous, but in that moment, you can’t help but love her even more—especially when she’s acting like her old, impossible self.

You could probably get used to this Chaewon too.

#le sserafim #kim chaewon #chaewon #chaewon x reader #lesserafim x reader #chaewon fluff #kim chaewon x reader #izone chaewon #kpop #x reader #le sserafim fluff #le sserafim x you

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moonchild9350 · 3 months ago

Text

Still Life and Nude Surprises

Summary: you need to prep for an art show and sign up for a class for extra practice. the model you’re assigned however turns out to be someone you know very well.

Pairing: best friend!Felix x fab!reader

Genre: friends to lovers au, fluff, smut-18+MDNI

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: nude modeling, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, mention of overstimulation, clit play, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, implied multiple rounds

Notes: another fic from when I was feral sorry not sorry lol this was fun to write though and it’s Felix so…. lol

If you enjoyed please consider a like, reblog, or comment as it keeps me motivated ♡

Divider by @cafekitsune

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

"Hold still!"

You chastised the blonde who was at the moment wiggling around in his seat, his eyes focused on his computer screen as he blasted god knows what on the latest game he acquired.

"Y/n! Lemme just finish this round, then I'll do anything you say," he responded as he showed off his biggest pouty face.

You sighed, not being able to say no to that face. Felix smiled and went back to his game, his fingers tap tapping on the keyboard.

Felix is your best friend, he has been since you were neighbors as a kid. You've done everything together, from attending dances as each others dates, sleepovers as kids, endure heartbreaks, and even live within the same building as adults.

You couldn't live without him, your relationship going beyond your wildest dreams.

Now, you were trying to sketch your best friend as you were trying to improve your still life skills, preparing for an art show that you had signed up for. Everything was going well until he received a text from a gamer buddy, wanting to go for a round on a new game he recently started.

You set your sketch pad down and watched your friend as he scrunched his face in concentration, his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he shot down enemy after enemy. It was pretty humorous to watch, as everytime he missed his target he'd scream "noooo!" before concentrating once more.

You knew it was a lost cause, understanding once he started gaming, it would be hours until he would stop. You gathered up your stuff, packing it into your bag.

You got up and walked over to Felix, ruffling up his hair, obscuring his view of the computer screen.

"Y/n!" he exclaimed as he blew his hair out of his face, the strands framing his face haphazardly as a result.

"I'm gonna go home, it's getting late. I"ll see you later ok?"

Felix took a chance and looked away from the screen to you, "I'm sorry, I'm a horrible model."

You chuckled and slapped his arm, the boy yelping at the sting. "No you're not, you just get distracted easily."

You continued to laugh as you walked to his door, listening to Felix mutter under his breath something along the lines of "that's not true."

Closing his door, you walked the few doors down to your apartment, dropping your bag on the hallway table. You really did want to practice your skills as the show was getting closer day by day and you were banking on using Felix to start.

You grabbed your laptop and plopped on the couch, propping your feet on the table in front of you. Opening up the search engine, you began to look for classes that you could attend to help you practice.

You came across a particularly promising site, the company offering a variety of classes from group sessions to private ones. You clicked on the private session info bar, as the prospect of it just being you and the model seemed appealing.

You noticed they offered private nude modeling sessions as well, your eyebrow raising in interest. This would be the perfect opportunity to study the human body and to improve your skills on drawing it.

The company had a few sessions open over the next few days which would be perfect as you were free. You clicked on the time slot for tomorrow's private session, your mind running over the pros and cons.

You've never sketched anyone nude, the prospect seeming a little embarrassing to you, but how would you get better if you didn't step out of your comfort zone? Plus, these models were trained for this, and it was with a reputable company.

The cost of the class wasn't much either, definitely within your budget. You filled in your information, whatever they asked for. Once done, your hand hovered over the book button, as you considered what to do.

"Fuck it," you said, bringing your finger down to press book.

A confirmation page popped up saying your session was successfully booked and they'd see you tomorrow. You let out a breath and closed your laptop.

This was really going to happen. You wondered if you'd have a male or female model, noticing there was no option to choose. Shaking your head, you decided not to think about the session until the time came, opting to go in with a fresh and unbiased mind.

You went about the rest of your night, prepping everything you would need for tomorrow. Settling into bed you pulled the covers up to your chin.

You were ready for tomorrow and whatever it were to bring.

It was a beautiful day, the sun shining, the weather warm but not too hot. The walk to the art studio wasn't too far away, the building being within walking distance.

You were giddy with excitement, your anxieties gone about the details of the session. You texted Felix to let him know you would be occupied today and would be over later on. He didn't mind as he apparently had something to do as well.

You approached a chic building, the outer walls appearing old yet charming to fit the town. You opened the door and walked in, met with the scent only an art studio can provide, from the scents of paints to fresh canvases. The scent of coffee drifted in the air as well, as there was a fresh pot that seemed to have been brewed in the corner of the reception area.

You approached the front desk, greeting the worker behind it.

"Hi, my name is y/n, I'm booked for a private session at 10:30?"

The lady looked in a book on the desk, her manicured fingers running down the page to the appointed time. She tapped her fingers on the page, finding your name as expected.

"We have you all set, would you like to pay now?"

You nodded and pulled out your card. She took care of the payment and then smiled.

"Have a seat, someone will be with you shortly to take you to the studio."

"Thank you," you said, walking towards a comfy looking chair in the corner.

You sat down, cradling your bag to your side. The atmosphere was quiet, the occasional sound of chatter meeting your ears. You watched as people walked to and from, their focus on getting to their destination.

Not long after sitting down, a young woman appeared calling your name. You hurriedly grabbed your bag and walked towards her.

"Ready?" she asked with a smile.

"Absolutely," you responded as you followed the lady down the hall.

She stopped at a door, the placard reading studio eight. It was more secluded than the other studios, the room being near the back of the hall. The lady opened the door and stepped in, you following right behind her.

As you crossed the threshold, you took in the surroundings of the room. It wasn't too small but not too big. The walls were covered with sketches and paintings, portraying various body types. Each painting was beautiful, the artist capturing the details of the human body in intricate detail.

There was a ceiling to floor mirror along one wall, the whole room visible in its reflection. In the center of the room, there was a chair next to a series of boxes, linen draped over it to make a makeshift bed. You eyed the stool next to an easel, which you assumed is where you would be sitting.

"So, this is where your session will take place. You have this space for four hours. If you need assistance of any sort, just press this button here and one of the staff members will assist you."

You followed her hand as she pointed to a blue button next to the door. You nodded and faced the lady again, waiting for her to continue.

"You have opted for a nude model for your session correct?"

"Yes, I have," you replied, feeling your cheeks flush at her question.

"They will enter after I leave. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, you can ask them to robe again, they will not mind. I think that's all. Any questions?"

You shook your head no, as everything was pretty straight forward.

"Great! Go ahead and get settled, your model will be in shortly!"

You thanked the lady and walked over to the easel. Setting your bag down, you began to pull out your sketch book and various pencils, setting them up accordingly. You sat on the stool, crossing your legs as you waited for your model to arrive.

It didn't take long until a different door than you came in opened, a person stepping in within the room. It was a flurry of movement as they walked into the room with their head down.

"Sorry, I'm a little late," the person said in a deep voice.

Wait...you knew that voice. Shocked, your head snapped up to look more closely at the person. You couldn't believe it, that person was...

"Y/n?!"

"Felix?!"

Your model was Felix? Your best friend? What the fuck?!

You were confused and shocked. Felix seemed to be as well as he stared at you with his mouth wide open.

You eyed your friend who was prepped in a white robe, the material seeming soft and cozy on his skin. His long hair was in a ponytail, framed away from his face, his numerous freckles on display.

"What are you doing here?" you asked in disbelief.

"I could ask you the same thing," Felix responded as he came closer to you.

"I uh...I signed up for a class to work on my skills since you know..." you said, your voice trailing off at the end.

The atmosphere was tense, neither one of you knowing what to do. You never expected to see your best friend here, especially since he never mentioned he modeled for an art studio...nude at that.

Felix nodded at your response, "I work here as a side gig...make some extra cash you know?"

You nodded, accepting his answer.

"Why did you never tell me you did this?" you inquired, curiosity getting the best of you.

Felix fiddled with the strap of his robe, his gaze anywhere but yours. After a moment he cleared his throat.

"Well, I thought you'd find it weird. I mean I'm naked in front of people and they draw me in the nude. How would I bring that up with you?"

He had a point. That would definitely make for an interesting conversation. Now the question becomes do you go on with the session? Sketch your best friend nude? You could make him keep the robe on.

"Do you...do you still want to proceed with this?" Felix asked, his hands gesturing toward the makeshift bed in the center of the room.

"I'm ok if you are," you said shrugging.

Felix cleared his throat, surprised at your answer. Recovering quickly, he said, "Of course."

You nodded and watched as he padded toward the bed, stopping in front of it for a moment. His hands went to the strap of his robe, his fingers fiddling with the knot before he stopped.

"You ok with sketching me nude?"

"Yes Lix, I've seen you naked before."

You really have and with years of being best friends, it was bound to happen.

Felix nodded before he grasped the strap again, this time untying the knot.

You watched as the knot fell away, the straps now dangling at his side. He brought his hands up, to grab the soft material and slide it off his shoulders. With a flurry of movement, he let the robe fall, the fabric pooling at his feet.

You gasped, your eyes glued to your best friend as he stood in the center of the room, his back to you. Taking the chance, your eyes roamed his back, taking in his muscular frame, down to his lithe waist, which you've always admired. You smirked at seeing his ass wanting to reach out and smack it.

Felix took a deep breath and slowly turned around to face you. You watched with bated breath as he now stood facing you, his eyes on yours.

Your eyes drifted down his torso, eyeing his nipples, the pinkish-brown buds perky in the cold room. You eyed him further down, down, down until you came to his pelvis, a happy trail of hair leading down to his cock.

You subconsciously licked your lips, your eyes glued to his soft cock lying amongst a smattering of hair, his balls hanging nice and delicate. You couldn't help but admire his cock, wondering how it would feel in your hands, how it would feel...

"Earth to y/n! My eyes are up here pervert!" Felix exclaimed while snapping his fingers to get your attention.

You snapped your eyes up to his face, feeling your cheeks flush in embarrassment. You definitely were just checking out your best friend, the feeling in your panties a little more wet than when you came in.

You cleared your throat and gestured toward the bed, "Umm, wanna get started?"

Felix nodded, "How do you want me?"

"You can just lounge on the bed for now."

Felix nodded again and sat on the bed, swinging his legs up to rest on the linens. You walked over to your best friend and stopped in front of him, your hands reached out. You hesitated for a moment, looking into his eyes asking silent permission to touch him.

"Go ahead, position me how you want," Felix chuckled.

You took his hand in yours and draped it across his face, his fingers dangling delicately on the side of his cheeks. You angled his head to look toward where you would be sitting. You looked at his legs, taking a breath before propping one of his legs up.

Once finished, you quickly took a step back, eyeing your work. Satisfied, you sat down on your stool and grabbed your sketch book.

You picked up a pencil and began to sketch, easily getting lost in your work. You looked up at Felix every now and then, to get some details solidified in your head before you translated it onto paper.

It was silent in the room, neither one of you speaking. It was not as awkward as you thought it would be, but rather comforting.

Time passed and you got more of your sketch done, the outline being nearly complete.

Felix was staring at you, watching your hands dance across the page, sketching his frame. He couldn't take his eyes off of you, admiring how you got lost in your work, that not even your best friend posing naked for you can distract you.

He loved how you let out a small smile when you got a detail just right or how you scrunched up your face and bit your lip when something did not seem right.

You were beautiful, that he couldn't deny and you were even more beautiful in this moment, sitting on a stool in an art studio underneath the dim lights.

Felix started to feel warm, despite laying right under the air conditioner, the feeling spreading down his belly and settling at his cock. He could feel the blood slowly fill out his cock, the appendage slightly harder than before, laying haphazardly against his pelvis.

He willed himself to breath, to cool down, not wanting you to see the effect you have on him. He could never live that down. He tried to look everywhere but your face, especially when your head was down. But to no avail, the feeling increased, his cock twitching slightly in response.

You looked up at your friend to get another look at his torso for shading the area on your sketch, but froze at what you saw. Felix seemed to be in turmoil, his breath shaky, his eyes darting everywhere around the room.

Your eyes traveled to his cock, noticing how it seemed to have hardened some since you last took a look at him. You thought you would feel embarrassed, however, you felt quite the opposite.

You lingered on his cock a little longer, a a pleasurable shock traveling down your body and straight to your core. You pressed your thighs together in response, feeling your slick slowly seep into your panties.

You cleared your throat and went back to your sketch, not wanting Felix to catch you staring, not let him know that you were aware he was hard while you sketched him.

Felix was turned on, that was the brunt of it. He tried to stop his reaction to you, but he just couldn't do it. He felt his cock hardened until it stood fully at attention, the tip pressing up against his pelvis.

It was torture laying there, only a few feet away from you, his cock so hard it was starting to hurt. He wanted to touch himself, relieve the ache, and maybe just maybe you could help him out too.

He watched as you lifted your head up once more, gasping at the state of him.

You were in shock, noticing now that Felix's cock was fully hard, the member seeming angry and red at the lack of attention it received. You could see something shiny glistening on the hairs littering his pelvis. You watched as a drop of pre-cum oozed from his tip, the liquid dripping down his shaft until it reached the hairs, getting caught in the thickness.

Looking at Felix's face, you could tell he was miserable, as he breathing was shallow and he was clenching and unclenching his hands. You knew he wanted to touch himself to relieve himself of the ache he was feeling.

"Felix?" you questioned, your eyes reaching his. "Do you wanna touch yourself?"

Felix's eyes widened at the question, disbelief written on his face.

"I'm..I'm sorry y/n, I just couldn't help it," he stuttered, lowering his eyes in embarrassment.

"It's ok," you responded with a smile. "You can touch yourself, make yourself feel good. I'll continue to sketch."

Felix stared at you for a moment more before he took his other hand that was at his side and placed it on his chest.

You watched as he gripped his aching cock and gave it a squeeze as he moaned lowly. He shifted his hand upwards, his thumb pressing on his slit before gathering up some of the leaking pre-cum.

He began to stroke his cock, steady but slowly, his fist reaching the base just to travel back up and circle around the head. Felix kept eye contact with you, your sketching forgotten, as you took to watching your best friend pleasure himself.

He increased the speed of his wrist movement, wet sounds from the aid of his precum filling the room. With each moan he let out, you felt your pussy clench over nothing. You were soaking wet, your panties stuck to your skin by now, your clit throbbing to be touched.

"Y/n," Felix said, his voice raspy as he continued to stroke his cock. "Can you touch yourself? Pleasure yourself for me?"

You looked into Felix's pleading eyes, watching as he licked his lips and swallowed. You didn't give a moments thought at your friend's request, instead ridding yourself of your leggings.

You stood before Felix, your fingers going to the band of your panties. You watched Felix's eyes drag to the piece of cloth, his eyes widening at the wet patch present on your panties, the material sticking to your skin, leaving nothing to the imagination as the outline of your lips could be seen.

You slowly slid your panties down your legs and set them aside. Felix let out a groan at the sight of your pussy, his cock twitching in his hand.

You sat back down on the stool and spread your legs, your wet folds separating to show him your entrance. He kept his eyes glued to your pussy as you brought a finger to your clit, flicking the bud and the rubbing it gently.

You sighed out as you dipped a finger lower into your hole, gathering your slick that was pooling there before bringing it back to your clit. You circled it gently, applying the slightest pressure, a jolt of pleasure causing your pussy to clench.

Time passed as you both sat there, eyes on each other as you pleasured yourself, the room filled with wet sounds and the mix of both of your moans.

You matched Felix's pace as he stroked his cock, harder and faster, his hips bucking up into his hands. You let out a whimper as you felt the tightening within your belly, the coil tightening, filling your core with warmth.

"Felix, m'close," you moaned as your fingers slipped and slid around your clit, your pussy getting wetter by the minute.

"Yeah? Cum for me? Will you cum for me like a good girl?" Felix cooed. "I'm close too, fuck."

Your breathing increased as the coil expanded in your belly, the feeling getting larger and larger until you tipped over the edge, your walls spasming, clenching down rhythmically as you rode out your high.

You didn't stop rubbing your clit, watching as Felix let out a groan as he bucked his hips, spurts of cum landing on his belly creating a painting with its pearly white sheen.

You pulled your hand away, the feeling of overstimulation settling in. You looked at your best friend, both of you breathing hard as you came down from your highs.

You chuckled as you noticed Felix was pretty much in the same position you put him in, his resolve at staying true to his role admirable.

"You um...you can keep sketching if you'd like," Felix said, his voice soft with uncertainty.

"We literally just got off together and you want me to continue sketching?" you asked incredulously as you cocked your eyebrow.

Felix cleared his throat, his body slighly shifting on the makeshift bed causing his softened cock to jiggle.

"Well...yeah, you paid and all..."

You stared at your best friend in disbelief. You hated that he had a point, you did pay a pretty sum to be here today. But here you were, nude from the waist down, your nether region a mess. You sighed and picked up your pencil, moving your hand to start sketching again.

There was silence once more as you got into the zone, focusing on shading in your sketch. You began to hum to yourself, adjusting yourself sligthly on the stool.

Felix returned to staring at you, watching you get lost in your work. He tried not to remember that you were naked waist down, your pussy seconds away from being on display if you decided to open your legs.

The thought caused arousal to seep through his body once more. He cursed silently as he felt his cock twitch. Why does he have to be turned on by you? He's never had this reaction before for any other client.

Maybe it was because they were strangers, people he didn't know, while you were his best friend, his life line.

He couldn't help it as his thoughts wandered, wondering how you would feel wrapped around him. He wondered how you would sound as he pounded into you, making you feel better than any of your little flings ever could.

He peeked down to look at his lower half as he silently groaned noticing his cock was fully hardened, resting against his belly once more.

You looked up to gather reference and noticed Felix's cock was hard, more of his precum leaking out and onto his belly. You squeezed your thighs together at the sight as your tongue darted out and licked your lips.

"Fuck this," you said, tossing your sketch book to the side.

You stood up and walked towards Felix, lifting your shirt up and over your head in the process. You unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor, your tits spilling out and on view for your friend.

Felix scrambled up quickly and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you toward him until you stood right in front of his face. He grasped your waist and smashed his lips to yours, letting out a moan as your lips moved with his.

Your hand reached down to grasp his cock, giving it a squeeze. Felix moaned against your lips, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

"Can I fuck you y/n?" Felix asked with hope in his eyes.

You've both come this far, why stop now you thought.

"Sure," you agreed as more arousal gushed out of your pussy and onto your thighs at the thought of his cock filling you up.

Felix helped maneuver you onto the makeshift bed as he hovered above you. He spread your legs and pushed them upwards, giving him a clear view of your wet pussy, your slick coating your folds and dripping down your ass.

He brought his thumb down to press against your swollen clit that was peeking through your folds. You let out a whine at the sensation, your pussy clenching around nothing.

"I've waited for this moment for a long time y/n," Felix said, his eyes lifting up to your face.

"Me too," you confessed, your heart swelling at the thought that you both have liked each other probably for years.

He really was your person, your everything, and you would love nothing more than to give yourself fully to him.

Felix smiled down at you before swiping his finger over your clit again, watching as you wiggled your hips at his touch.

"I'm gonna give you my cock now," he grunted, grasping the appendage at the base.

He rubbed his cock through your folds, collecting your slick before pressing against your entrance, his eyes glued to how his head disappeared within your hole.

You mewled as he withdrew his cock just to press into your entrance again as he fucked you with just the tip.

"Felix, please," you whimpered, holding your legs open even more.

"Want my cock hm?" Felix asked, his eyes on yours. He watched as your mouth hung open, soft moans falling out as he teased you, spreading your folds open with just his head.

He was faring no better as he felt a shutter run through him, every time he sunk his tip within your warmth.

"Fuck me," you commanded, your eyes snapping open and staring Felix down.

You reached for his cock, your hand wrapping around the shaft. You wiggled your hips attempting to take more of his cock, ignoring how Felix was laughing at you.

"Ok, ok, don't get your panties in a twist," Felix chuckled. "Oh wait, you lost those hours ago, so desperate for my cock y/n."

Without any other warning, he slammed his hips into yours with a groan, sinking his length within your walls until bottomed out.

"Fuck, so warm and tight," he grunted as he began to thrust his hips into yours, withdrawing his cock just until he was all the way out and pushing back in.

You pussy clenched around him, the feeling of his cock stretching you out causing waves of pleasure to settle in your pelvis.

Felix grasped your legs, pushing them further to your chest as he pummeled his hips to yours, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. He couldn't believe how tight you were, how your walls molded around his cock perfectly, like you were made for him.

His moans mingled with yours, as you both chased your highs. Felix licked his fingers and brought them back down to your clit, the digits slipping and sliding along the nub, causing shocks of pleasure to wreck your frame.

"Shit, I'm close, gonna cum. Can I come inside?" Felix panted, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

"Please, need your cum!" you whimpered as your pussy contracted at the thought of his cum within you.

Felix slammed his hips into yours once more before stilling, ropes of his cum flooding your walls.

"That's it, take my cum," Felix cooed as he continued to finger your clit.

You let out a loud moan as you came, your arousal seeping out of your pussy, coating Felix's cock as he thrusted his hips into yours a few more times to help you ride out your high.

Felix peered down at you, his eyes searching yours as you panted, your hands running down your body. He slowly withdrew his softening cock, his eyes glued to how his cum leaked out of your pussy, a smile gracing his face.

He leaned down to press a kiss on your lips once more as he whispered "I love you."

You carded your fingers through his hair, eagerly returning the kiss.

"And I love you Felix," you cooed.

You both laid there a little longer, exchanging soft kisses, neither one of you in a rush to move.

After a while, Felix perked up, mischief in his eyes.

"Wanna keep sketching? You still have another hour."

You smirked at the suggestion, knowing exactly where it will lead, and that was definitely ok with you.

"Sure thing, let's go for another round," you teased with a grin.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght

#stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #felix smut #felix x reader #skz smut #skz x reader #lee felix smut #lee felix x reader #stray kids fan fic #lee felix x you #stray kids x you #lee felix imagines #lee felix scenarios #lee felix fanfic #stray kids fluff #felix fluff #lee felix fluff

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coupsiedaisee · 2 months ago

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pulse | c.sc

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader

genre: smut, just smut alksjfdkgjhh

warnings: fingering, exhibitionism, kissing, drinking, like two mentions of weed lol sex?, i've never done warnings before ahh, fingering, voyeurism (sort of? not really?), kissing (is this a warning?), there's no p in v omg, so how do i tag this 😭, this is really short omg, i think fingering covers it, ohi! some drinking? neither of them are inibriated though. imo, would that make this dubcon? feel implicit to me. god sorry, im posting this when im drunk, v will wake up tmrw and tell me if this is dumb or not omg.

wordcount: 1.6k

a/n: happy friend anniversary to the second love of my life 🥺v!!!! @hannieween, i love u so much so here's the first smut thing i've fully finished writing and also the first time i've published smut omg. i love you and i love cheol and i really hope this makes u both horny and happy and would love nothing more than if u feel anger (horny anger) after reading this, yay!! target demographic met! to everyone else reading this, pease let me know what u think! even if u hated it omg 🥺i want to know both what u liked and didn't like so my writing can become better. uwu ily all <3 also, again, im drunk, so if there's any grammar mistakes, ima fix it tmrw alksjdhkflhgbksdfgkjd. okay byeeee, enjoy!!!!

"Baby, are you done yet? She just texted that they parked," Seungcheol shouts from the living room.

"Coming!" You yell back, swiping the last bit of lipstick on and giving yourself a once over in the mirror.

Seungcheol's standing by the front door, looking up from his phone when you walk in. He rakes his eyes over you, the clear skin of your neck, down your collar bones, to the cleavage disappearing into your shirt. The sliver of skin between your tight shirt and mini skirt. The bare skin of your plush thighs.

You fidget under his gaze, "Is there something wrong? Do I need to go change?"

"God, no baby. You look—" he swallows hard, running a hand through his blond hair, "—you look hot."

A fierce blush blooms across your cheeks and you tuck you hair behind your ear. "Oh. I—thanks?" You clear your throat, "Y-you do too babe."

And he did. A tight black polo stretched across his pecs, its short sleeves snug around his biceps. Light wash jeans barely holding his thick thighs in.

You want to drop down to your knees, right then and there.

Seungcheol reaches his hand out and you take it. He pulls you in for a kiss, letting his free hand roam down your body, pushing your skirt up to cup your ass, giving it a squeeze.

You pull away first, smacking him lightly on the chest, "Seungcheol!"

He's got no shame though, as he pulls you out the door, laughing.

The two of your were not going far tonight. Just two floors down, to the apartment of a Joshua Hong. Long time friend of Seungcheol's, Joshua was having some friends over to look at the new vaccum he bought.

"It's got even better suction than the last one and the battery life lasts forever," says Joshua, showing off the lime green vaccum in the middle of his living room. Seungcheol's standing next to him with their other friend, Jeonghan. His arms are crossed in front of his chest, and his eyebrows furrowed as Joshua talks. Momo, Josh's next door neighbor, is crouched by the vaccum, eyeing its different attachments.

"How is it with pet hair?" She asks, and you feel that this is your cue to go grab another drink.

In the kitchen, Jeonghan's girlfriend is mixing some sort of concoction in a big punch bowl. She whips around at the sound of your footsteps, "There you are! Where have you been? I texted Seungcheol when we parked."

You send her a sheepish smile, "Got caught up on the new technology."

She rolls her eyes, "You lot are so boring."

"Trust me, you'll be the same once you're in the work force like us boring adults." You go to grab a cider from the fridge.

She scoffs waving her ladle in your direction, "Oi, pipe down Grandma. We're nearly the same age! You'll be sorry when I'm a professor. Don't make me give you detention."

You laugh, "Alright, alright. Don't fail me professor, clearly I was wrong. " You duck just as she swings the ladle at your head.

It doesn't take long until nearly everyone at the apartment is either drunk or baked. You don't know what she put in that bowl, but after seeing Momo passed out on the pool table, you were glad you stuck to your ciders.

You head back into the living room after cleaning up a spill in the hallway (whoever gave Jeonghan jaegerbombs, why?). Dino and Mingyu, Seungcheol's friends from school, are sprawled on the ground in front of the TV, Mario Kart forgotten, passing a lit joint between each other.

Seungcheol's sat back on the sofa, manspreading, and showing off his deliciously thick thighs, taking periodic sips of a Corona. He spots you across the room and you send him a shy smile.

Seungcheol motions at something with his eyes and you tilt your head at him, confused. He snaps his chin in a quick motion but you still don't understand and he lets out an exasperated breath. Settling further into the sofa, he pats his thigh. Your eyebrows shoot up, looking around the room, but no one's paying you all any attention.

Slowly you make you way to him and, once at his feet, he swiftly gets rid of the cider in your hand, pulling you into his lap with a low, "Come here, baby girl."

Your body heats up as his hands sit on your hips, fingertips grazing the sliver of skin between your shirt and skirt. Your skirt.

When you chose your outfit for today, you had felt good, confident even. You made a choice, to wear a new lingerie set you'd bought the other day. The thought was that, maybe, you and and your boyfriend would get up to some fun when you got back home.

But now, you'd never regretted something more. As Seungcheol adjusts you over his thighs, slotting one in between your legs, the fabric of his jeans rub against your delicate lace panties.

Your pussy pulsates and you've never been more embarassed. You will it to stop, but Seungcheol chooses that moment to dig his fingers into your hips, tensing his thigh, and your pussy throbs.

Little campfires breakout across your cheeks and you find yourself sinking back into Seungcheol's chest in shame. His breath fans across your ear, "Baby, why didn't you tell me you missed me." You can hear the smirk he's probably wearing, but even worse, you're sure he can feel the dampness pooling between your legs.

You should get up. But you know you can't. You know your wetness has seeped onto his jeans, leaving a dark spot, evidence of your need. Everyone would know.

His hands feel like they're burning into your hips, and he leans to press a sweet kiss to your exposed shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

You feel Seungcheol move, and then a blanket is draped over your lap, covering your entire bottom half from any onlookers. Though one look across the room told you not a single person was paying you two any mind.

Seungcheol rubs his hand back and forth over your tummy, the touch feeling like hot coals dragging across your skin. Back. Forth. Back. Forth

Then, his fingers slip past the waistband of your skirt.

You don't say anything as you feel his fingers skate across your clothed mound. When he finds your lips, he pushes down with two fingers. You suck in a breath and hold, mind going completely blank.

You should push his hand away. Scold him with a serious, Seungcheol!

But you don't.

Arousal flows out of you, staining his jeans. Evidence of your want, no, your need for your boyfriend.

Seungcheol, the devil he is, starts rubbing the slowest, most languid, circles, smirking into your neck when you start squirming in his lap.

"If you don't like it, you can just get up and leave baby," he whispers, nipping at your ear lobe.

You subtly shake your head no, worried that if you open your mouth, the most obscene sound would come out.

Seungcheol uses his other hand to pull at your thigh, spreading your legs further apart. He pushes your barely there panty aside and plunges a finger in. Your breath hitches at the sensation and your eyes flit around the room, but no one is paying you two any attention.

Seungcheol starts to pump his finger at a torturous pace and you try to keep your breathing even. He ghosts his lips up your neck, whispering, "Can you handle one more baby?" You shake your head with a quick no, biting down on your bottom lip.

Seungcheol's finger freezes and a low whine escapes your lips.

You move your hips just a little bit, chasing what little friction you could find, but Seungcheol tightens the hold on your thigh. "Seungcheol," You mean it to come out stern, but your voice is breathy and light.

"One more baby," Seungcheol nudges your neck with his nose and lets his teeth graze your skin. A shudder rolls through you as your pussy clenches around his single, slender finger.

You already know you've lost. You need Seungcheol to make you feel as full as possible. You nod shyly.

"Hmm?" Seungcheol says quietly, "I need to hear you baby." You can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Yes," You breathe out, looking around again to see not a single person paying attention. Seungcheol pushes his second finger in and you bite your lip again to stop the moan that nearly comes out.

Your breathing gets heavier as he curls his fingers just how you like it and your thighs start to tremble as you near your peak. "Are you close baby?" You nod as your fingers grab at the blanket in your lap. He continues to curl his fingers, a little faster now.

Your breathing turns into little whimpers that you try to keep down, but to no avail.

Seungcheol whispers one last, sweet, "Let go for me love," and you're cumming, releasing all over his fingers as he lets you ride them through your high before pulling out.

You hear the pop! of him sucking the taste of you off his fingers and you feel your juices leaking out, soaking into his jeans. You lean your head back onto him, eyes squeezed shut, out of embarrassment or pleasure you don't know.

"Good girl," Seungcheol whispers, rubbing a warm hand over your tummy, and leaving a soft kiss on your cheek. "You did so well for me, baby."

a/n: omg okay. this whole this was started because my lovely lovely v asked me do you think he'd be the type to sit you down on his lap to feel your pulse through your pussy? so this is really ur fault love sldjfsldfgldkzfgjdzfgkjdzfklhgb. let me know ur thoughts lovies!!!!!!!!!

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #title: pulse #daisee.writes #band: seventeen #member: seungcheol #joshua #jeonghan #dino #mingyu #seungcheol smut

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slasher-fxcker · 6 months ago

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Slashers seeing their future S/O for the first time

Part 1

Including: Billy Loomis, Bo Sinclair, Jason Voorhees, Lester Sinclair, Stu Macher & Vincent Sinclair.

Warnings: Mentions of death, slashers being slashers. This page is 18+ Minors do not interact.

A/N: Okay this is my first post on here so any and all feedback is welcome! Also, there will be a part two, I will be including all the slashers I write for I just got a bit carried away and I thought it was a bit long for one part lol. Second part will include Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Billy Lenz, Brahms Heelshire and Jesse Cromeans.

Billy Loomis:

· This was meant to be an easy kill for Billy. Some geek that showed up at a party he shouldn’t have been at, Billy had been watching him for most of the night when he saw his target getting ready to leave. He started heading to the closet he hid his Ghostface costume in when someone crashed into him spilling their drink all down the front of his shirt.

· Billy was in two minds about whether he should give them a piece of his mind or ignore their apologies and sneak away anyway. But as he looked up whatever reply he had planned got caught in his throat. When he looked into your pleading eyes he could immediately tell how bad you felt. He didn’t realise he was staring until he noticed you were waiting for a response.

· He regains his composure and brushed off your apologies, telling you not to worry about it. You seemed relieved and he couldn’t help but smirk at how you looked around the room frantically. “Lost something?” he finally asks you, “Am I that obvious?” you laugh before holding your hand out, “I’m Y/N, Randy’s cousin.” Billy seemed to stare at your hand for a second before taking it in his and introducing himself. Maybe just this once he’d let the target go and find something worth enjoying.

Bo Sinclair:

· Getting out of the beat-up truck Bo winced as he felt the pain in his arm of the wound that hadn’t fully healed just yet. Lightly holding the spot and remembering how one of the victims had cut him good with that knife. He sighed and shrugged the thought off before walking towards the dimly lit bar. Sitting down on one of the stools and ordering a beer.

· He soon becomes aware of a man groaning angrily at one of the nearby pool tables, “There aint no way you're winning again without cheatin’” he hears the man grumble. Bo’s fairly accustomed to the usual pool bets but what does surprise him is the feminine laugh he hears in response, he turns around to see you bent over the table lining up your next shot. He feels his throat dry up at the sight of the position you’re in and the teasing smirk that’s on your face.

· “Don’t be a sore loser Jimmy,” you laugh before sinking yet another ball into its socket. Bo can barely take his eyes off you as he leans back taking another sip of his beer. You and the man seem to go back and forth in arguing about the game, and he feels like he could watch you all night. The game is coming to an end with you clearly winning, before he even thinks about it Bo has downed the rest of his beer and is walking towards you. As you’re lining up your final shot Bo slams down a couple of bills on the side of the pool table, you look up at him and he flashed his signature grin at you, “I’ve got winner,” he says as he looks you up and down. You sink your last ball before turning back to him, “You’ve got it handsome,” she smirks. Oh, you were trouble, and Bo couldn’t wait to see how this night turned out.

Jason Voorhees:

· It had been a quiet week for Jason, no campers, no teens, nothing. He had been out collecting wood for the fire when he found a small stone, he liked collecting bits and pieces from around the woods. Small knickknacks to decorate the shabby cabin he called home. The stone had five points and could be seen as almost the shape of a star, what Jason didn’t realise was he had spent far too long invested in the stone to notice someone walking on the trail nearby. The snapping of some sticks broke him out of his thoughts as he saw a figure nearby.

· Jason quickly shoved the stone in his pocket before walking silently to a spot where he could watch the trail without being spotted. He watched you from afar for a while, seeing you look around you as you made your way down the path. The way you watched the nature around you with a small smile on your face made Jason feel a warmth inside him. He followed you all the way to the camp grounds. You seem surprised to find the open space on your trip. You sat down on one of the stone seats before unpacking some lunch for yourself.

· It wasn’t long before you had gotten up and were walking around the small opening. It was then that Jason heard you speak for the first time which caused him to tense in fear. “Hey there little guy.” That was it, you must’ve seen him. He froze as you stepped towards his hiding spot only to stop a few feet in front of where he stood, where he thought he was hidden by the shrubs. But you weren’t looking at him to his relief, he saw the small squirrel perched on a branch that seemed to have your attention. He felt himself relax as he noticed this before trying to silently move further to the other side of the clearing.

· To his surprise the squirrel hadn’t run away, he must’ve smelt the food in your hand as he stood hesitantly sniffing the air. “You hungry?” you asked him rhetorically before holding out a small piece of crust for the squirrel and placing it on the branch near him. Jason watched and couldn’t help but melt at your kindness, he heard the familiar voice in his head but this time the voice was calm, telling him you needed protection, you needed him. But how was he supposed to approach you. A few minutes passed and you turned back to your seat, walking over you noticed something had now been placed where you once sat. You picked up the small stone, noticing it was shaped like a star. You looked around for someone before looking back at the stone, a small smile on your face. It warmed Jason’s heart as he prepared himself to find you more gifts.

Lester Sinclair:

· Lester found himself almost zoning out as he drove down the all too familiar road, the predictability of the same turns and sights that he saw every day seeming to get on his nerves today. Until he noticed a car on the side of the road, he hated his part in this, he tried to just shut himself off from it and think of whoever the poor bastard was that wandered their way as just a stranger, a nobody with no identity. It helped that they were usually rude to him, at least that way he felt less remorse for them. He couldn’t see the person that was hidden under the hood, probably uselessly trying to figure out what was wrong with their car.

· “Looks like you could use a hand.” He didn’t expect the slight squeal from whoever was behind the hood before you walked out, “oh gosh you gave me a fright,” you giggled. Lester was trying to pick his jaw up off the floor and string a sentence together, you definitely weren’t the first young lady to come through these parts but he sure thought you were the prettiest. “Uh, sorry ma’am.” He gulped before wracking his brain for words, “I saw you stuck here and thought you could use a hand.” You sighed before closing the hood, “Unless you happen to have a fanbelt on you, I don’t think so,” He felt the slight dread creep up as he remembered the scenario, he hesitated before spilling his usual script about taking you to see Bo. Of course, you agreed, having no other option and climbing into his truck.

· Not long into the drive you spoke, “I’m Y/N by the way,” he nodded before realising you were waiting for a response, “Oh, I’m Lester,” he responded. “Lester,” you repeated with a smile, he couldn’t help the feeling in his stomach when you repeated his name. “Well thank you very much Lester, I definitely owe you one for driving me all this way.” The more you spoke the worse he was starting to feel, you seemed kind, you were nice to him which was a welcome change, you laughed along with him instead of at him, you didn’t deserve the fate that you were walking into. As you neared Ambrose he realised he couldn’t let you die, he didn’t know how yet but he would do everything he could to keep Bo from hurting you. He knew life was going to be anything but predictable with you around

Stu Macher:

· Stu groans when the bell rings, his least favourite subject and it was the first lesson of the day. “You coming Stu?” He looks at Randy as he seems to think it over, “Nah, we’ve got Evans, I don’t need another detention from that douche.” Randy just rolls his eyes as Stu starts walking in the opposite direction, he hears Randy grumble some smart-ass comment to himself as he walks away.

· Stu was about to turn towards the entrance when he heard you curse to yourself, he glanced at you before turning the corner. “Woah,” he stopped in his tracks before backing up back into the hallway and looking you over again. You must be new, he definitely would’ve remembered you if he had seen you before. You're too engrossed in the paper in your hands to notice someone coming up to you and leaning against the lockers. He puts on his cheesiest grin before getting your attention “Hey there,” you almost jump out of your skin as you drop your books.

· “Oh man I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Stu apologises as he crouches down and begins to pick up your things, you join him in picking up your books, “No don’t be, I should’ve been paying more attention,” you give him a soft smile before standing back up as he passes you some of your belongings, “You must be new, haven’t seen you around here,” you just nod before continuing, “actually, i’m having some trouble finding my class,” he looks over the schedule you had been engrossed in. “Oh that’s actually where I’m headed, I can take you if you’d like,” he couldn’t help but smile at the way you beamed up at him as you agreed.

· The walk was filled with Stu making you laugh, as you neared the class he seemed to slow down and began talking to you again. “You know, I’d be happy to show you to your other classes if you need help finding them after this?” you agreed and he walked into the class with you. A big smile on his face even after being reprimanded by your teacher. “I thought you weren’t coming,” Randy whispers to him, “Yeah something changed my mind,” he replied, not taking his eyes off you. Maybe this class was worth showing up to.

Vincent Sinclair:

· Vincent had been in the museum, positioning his newest artwork. He stared at it with a slight tilt of his head, questioning every stroke, every pose and every colour. He couldn’t help it, he knew he was good at what he did but insecurity still nagged at every decision he made. He was in his own world when the creak of the front door broke him out of his stupor. Bo had told him a small group of victims would be heading down to the museum while he worked on ‘finding’ a fan belt for them. Vincent was quick to move to his usual hiding spots to watch them.

· Vincent hated how loud this group was, joking and making fun of his art. “You have to be pretty sick to make any of this.” One of the guys spoke up, Vincent immediately started thinking of how he would hurt this man. It wasn’t until a softer voice spoke up that he noticed the girl trailing at the back of the group, “Come on guys, don’t be so rude. Someone must have put a lot of effort into these.” It was then that Vincent could finally make out your form, you seemed quiet even when speaking up for him, defending his work. Vincent wished he could get a better look at you. The man scoffed, “Okay art freak.” Vincent saw the way you practically flinched at the insult before turning away from the group to go and look at some other pieces.

· Vincent felt angry, the man would definitely suffer. He made his way closer to where you were, staying hidden as he watched you from afar. He could tell the insult had hurt you and this only made him angrier. You seemed to pause as you squinted closer to the art work on the wall, brushing some dust off the framing. “Vincent,” you read the signature to yourself with a small smile on your face, Vincent stilled when he heard you. He wasn’t sure what it was but something about hearing you say his name struck a chord in him. He was more than intrigued by you, he felt drawn to you in a way he had never felt before. He wasn’t sure what this meant but whatever it was he knew Bo wouldn’t like it.

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sugoi-and-spice · 3 months ago

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perfect, just perfect...

Serial Killer!Dabi x Reader x Serial Killer!Shigaraki

Summary: In which Dabi and Tomura Shigaraki are women-targeting serial killers and do what serial killers do. That’s it. That’s the fic.

CW: Quirkless!AU, Serial Killers/Slashers!AU, Explicit Smut, Non-Con/Rape, Kidnapping, Physical Abuse, Rough Sex, Asphyxiation, Mysoginy, Dead Dove: Do Not FUCKING Eat

A/N: Hey,, remember when I was gonna do a Halloween AU series? Neither do I!! Anyway, here's my first entry in my own event - out of order!! Enjoyyyy. (or not, this one's pretty gnarly ngl lol)

Cross-Posted on AO3

“P-Please… Stop, please…”

A smack. A loud one. Sounded like it was right across the face, and Dabi wouldn’t doubt if it was. Shigaraki really liked to mess up the face.

“Oh come on, you can beg better than that.”

“N-No, I— I…”

“No no — I know you can. You just were begging— begging fucking amazing too. Come on. Do it, you worthless slut.”

Dabi rolled his eyes, taking a drag from his cigarette as he stood watch outside the reconstructed Toyota Hiace they made their base of operations. One they’d gutted the seats out of to make room for a full-size mattress and some metal grating dividing the front seats from the back.

A killing machine.

They parked it outside the city, in an endless valley of nature only ever occupied by a few off the grid campers. Ones that wouldn’t be suspicious of a lone van and two men in the middle of nowhere. They were also ones who typically had very few connections back home.

Who nobody would miss if they saw too much.

“Oi— I’m talking to you, slut! Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Jesus, this must’ve been the thirtieth time that Shigaraki called her a slut this session. How uncreative could one demented incel be? He’d kind of expected more from the bastard…

Truth be told, he didn’t particularly like his partner in crime. They weren’t friends, they were barely even acquaintances. But they were kindred spirits. Two particularly violent young men who’d met on a particularly violent darknet forum about women.

And the inhumane positions they’d love to put them in.

Of course, just because they both lived for the end result, didn’t mean that they agreed on the journey there.

Shigaraki was a raging misogynist and by-the-book incel. He despised women, wanted to take revenge on them for everything he felt they did wrong to him. He wanted to make them bleed because he wanted to make them hurt. Because he was full of anger and disgust and hate.

Dabi was the opposite. He loved women. The unique beauty of every single one, the range of emotions they showed in their darkest, most desperate moments. Emotions he himself was never allowed to show. Ugh, the euphoria of it all. He loved women so much he wanted to see every part of them.

Including their insides.

“Come on you ugly fuck!” Shigaraki snapped from inside the van, “Scream! It’s all you’re fucking good for!”

…Truth be told, Dabi wasn’t sure why exactly he’d partnered up with Shigaraki of all people. He’d been looking for a co-pilot for this sick and twisted little endeavor of his for a while, and there had been many others in the forums who probably would’ve been better fits personality-wise, who seemed more agreeable. Guys who weren’t so picky about the girls they picked, who didn’t grumble and gripe when it came time to finally cleaning up their mess, who didn’t use the “standing watch” excuse when it came to carrying the bodies to the disposal spots.

Who didn’t put their disgusting fucking feet on his dashboard…

That being said, while they both lived almost exclusively on the other’s last nerve, they also had a strange, almost psychic symbiosis. They balanced each other out. Dabi was emotional and passionate, often getting over-excited by the next prospective victim, moved so intensely by his passion upon seeing a new girl walking down the street or sitting at the bar that he wanted to grab them right there and then. Shigaraki on the other hand was meticulous and paranoid, holding him back until he was absolutely sure that they wouldn’t get caught.

He kept them careful at the beginning of the kill.

Whereas Dabi, who truly believed that he held a lot of deep respect for the women they abducted, wanted to be careful with their bodies after the fact. Shigaraki grew bored easily and completely. He often wanted to just dump the bodies down a valley or in a back alley and move onto the next one. A broken toy wasn’t worth another second in his mind. But Dabi wanted better for the girls. He wanted them to have a proper burial. Deep, deep in the ground where nobody else could ever find them.

He kept them careful at the end of the kill.

Dabi exhaled a long stream of smoke as he considered where their latest little sylph would be buried. They had passed a grove of what looked like magnificent spider lilies on the way out of town.

Maybe he was thinking too much into all this, he kind of had to whenever it was Shigaraki’s turn. The brutish way in which he handled and defiled these girls, it always made Dabi contemplate just what redeeming factor he had ever seen in the guy.

And then he’d hear them, the screams Shigaraki managed to rip out of their victims. Screams that only came from a level of brutality Dabi would never be able to inflict himself. They were so unique, so beautiful, so perfect . And they were sounds that he’d never be able to hear if it weren’t for Shigaraki.

Truthfully, that alone was worth the endless collection of crushed Monster cans that littered the floor of his van.

It had gotten pretty quiet in there now. The screams, the pleading, even the choked little sobs of self-pity, all muted to nothing. There was only the creaking of tired mattress springs, Shigaraki’s heavy breathing and grunting, and the occasional sound of a slap followed by irritated mumbling. Yeah, she was losing all will to fight. Which meant it was just about time for—

“Oi,” Shigaraki snapped as if on cue, throwing the van door open, “She’s no fun anymore. You take her.”

Dabi took a long last drag of his cigarette, watching as Shigaraki climbed out and readjusted himself in his pants. His partner-in-crime gave him a weirded, disgusted look at the way he took his time.

“What’re you fucking staring at me for? You want me to off her or something?”

Dabi waved him off, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stepping it out, “Nah, nah. I’m on it.”

“Hop to it then,” Shigaraki barked, crossing his arms and leaning against the passenger door of the van, “We’ve been here long enough already.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Dabi retorted as he stepped into the van.

Shigaraki whipped around, “Get bent!”

“I’m trying to,” Dabi threw right back, slamming the van door closed behind him.

He quickly pulled back his cool once he was inside. It really was amazing how quickly and effectively Shigaraki pissed him off. But he knew he needed to simmer it. He didn’t want to let his own anger and hate slip out too much in front of his newest precious angel. He’d hate to scare her off.

Dabi turned back to her with a small, but reassuring smile, “Hello.”

Of course, she didn’t respond, didn’t even bother to look at him.

She laid in more or less the same position he’d left her to Shigaraki in. Arms and legs pulled wide, cuffed to the rods mounted on each side of the van. Her once smooth and spotless skin was now swollen and purple, black and yellow in some places even, where Shigaraki had managed to break a rib and an ankle. Dry blood caked her nose and the corner of her mouth while fresh blood seeped onto the mattress out of recent scratches and cuts Shigaraki had inflicted in a last ditch effort to make her wail again.

None of that bothered him though, quite the opposite actually. He loved a roughed up woman, one at her most natural and vulnerable. It was the beauty that got him into this in the first place. No, what Dabi turned his nose up at was Shigaraki’s loads spilling out of her abused pussy, all onto her raw, reddened thighs and the crumpled tear-stained sheets.

Ugh, see this is why he’d said no when Shigaraki asked if they should get an apartment together. The motherfucker never cleaned up after himself.

“P-Please…”

Dabi turned his attention back to her face, to her eyes, dull and lifeless, staring right through the back wall of the van.

“Just kill me already…”

Oh, this sweet thing, he thought, tilting his head at her sympathetically.

He climbed onto the mattress next to her then, resting a hand gently on her hip, careful not to put any pressure on the bruises littered there. She didn’t even flinch when he did it. She was that far gone.

“Kill you?” he asked, curiosity far from feigned.

“Aren’t you those serial killers that have been on the news lately? The ones that—” she couldn’t even finish. The fate that she knew of being too much to leave her throat.

“Huh. Are we now?” he said, mostly to himself as he had a real epiphany from those words. So they were serial killers, were they?

Yeah, he could work with that…

She buried her head into the mattress, trying to muffle the dry sobs from ducts that had long gone barren.

“Please, if you’re gonna do it then just do it already! I can’t go on anymore! I can’t take it…”

He ran the back of his hand slowly, whisperingly down her cheek, “Talk to me beautiful. Tell me how I can make this better.”

This finally got something out of her. A snort of sick, stupid amusement, weak and wheezy.

“God, what fucking game are you two playing? Some sick good killer, bad killer shtick?”

Dabi smiled. She sure was spunky. Even now. What a lovely quality.

“No,” he breathed, dusting feather light kisses down her neck, her chest, that sweet, soft tummy… “No games.”

He buried his nose into the crux her thigh, reveling in the heat and tremble of her raw, abused thighs.

“W-What are you doing?!” she gasped, a whole new flavor of fear coating her voice.

“Just relax,” he purred, kissing a path all the way to her center, “I’m not gonna hurt you…”

She cried out as he licked up the length of her cunt, flicking the stud in his tongue against her clit playfully when he got there. She tried to move her hips away from him, still completely baffled and terrified by not knowing what he was going to do to her, but thanks to her restraints, the struggle only ended up pushing her hips closer to Dabi’s lips in a grind motion. A wanting motion.

It spurred him on to pleasure her further as the delusion of her reciprocation had him falling utterly in love.

Shigarai’s spunk was still slipping out of her, heavy and salty on his tongue as he buried it deeper inside her, but that didn’t matter. Her own sweetness overpowered it, those resistant sobs overpowering all of his senses, sending him into a delirium of pleasure.

Fuck, how much he wanted to throw her legs up over his shoulders, coil his arms tight around her and devour her, but he resisted. He knew how raw and wounded she was, and all he wanted from her now was a fraction of the bliss that she was giving him.

“P-Please! I don’t— nngh! ”

Her sounds were brand new now — constant choked sobs of despair and self-hatred over the way her body reacted against her will. She was so raw and oversensitive from Shigaraki’s brutal treatment, Dabi’s own gentle, devoted ministrations had her ankles straining up painfully against her restraints as she came in mere minutes.

Dabi pulled away, a crooked, love-drunk smile on his face as he watched her trembling chest rise and fall, listened to the sweet serenade of her wheezing breaths.

He hummed happily as he pulled himself back up to her level. He cupped his hand gently along her cheek.

“You have a beautiful voice.”

She snapped back to him, anger tearing violently through her “afterglow”.

“ Fuck you .” she quite literally spat, a newfound fire within her that set his own body ablaze.

Dabi brought a thumb to his cheek, stroking the spit she’d hurled at him to the corner of his own mouth. His tongue reached to meet it, and he shuddered as both of her tastes mingled on his palate.

Fuck, he couldn’t hold back any longer. He quickly back onto his haunches, trying to not let his desperation to be inside her rush or roughen his movements. He still wanted her to enjoy this, but it was taking every bit of self-control he could muster not to blow his load over the sound of her voice alone.

“W-Wait!” she yelped out, as she felt him line himself up at her entrance, “You said you wouldn’t hurt me!”

“I won’t sweetheart,” he breathed, easing his cockhead in slowly, “I promise this won’t hurt.”

“But it does! You doing this now— you’re hurting me!”

He groaned as her heat completely engulfed him. Between the mix of her own arousal and Shigaraki’s, and the desperate pulsing of her insides, post-orgasm, he barely even had to push his hips.

“There’s no need to lie now, your body’s completely giving you away,” he grinned, dropping his forehead to rest against hers, “Your pussy is sucking me right in.”

She choked out a sob as he rocked out of her just barely, then buried himself again, somehow deeper than before.

“ Fuck —” he groaned, “I couldn’t pull out if I tried. Your body just wants me that bad. Doesn’t it baby?”

She tried to stifle a moan as his soft yet sturdy thrusts hit that perfect angle inside of her. She managed to keep the pleasure of the sound locked in the base of her throat, allowing out only a stilted and very unladylike grunt in its place.

The horrid little sound didn’t put Dabi off in the slightest though. If anything, it endeared him. He smiled, almost giddily, as he watched that strain and struggle coarse through her. She really was perfect no matter what she did, wasn’t she?

They all were, after all.

“How does it feel, sweetheart?” he urged her again between thrusts, “Do you like it like this? Does it feel good?”

“N-No, it doesn’t…” she whimpered out hoarsely, that momentary fire from before quickly extinguishing as she felt her dignity once again slipping away “Just stop…”

Dabi’s brows pinched disappointedly, hips slowing to a near-stop.

“You don’t like it like this? Soft and sweet?”

She looked back up at him, confusion creasing her own cute little face.

His hand on her hip started to tighten, nails digging deliberately into the meat of her hip, “Maybe then you liked Shigaraki’s way better…”

Her eyes widened.

“Well I can certainly do that too,” he breathed, hip suddenly snapping painfully into her.

“N-No!” she yelped, “No, please I—!” she squeezed her eyes closed tight, trying to hold back her tears, as a particularly rough thrust jostled her broken rib painfully, “I want it soft! It felt so good what you were doing before! Please! ”

“Are you sure?” Dabi tilted his head, pounding hips having yet to slow, “Don’t just say that because you think it’s what I want. This is supposed to be good for the both of us.”

“I-I’m not! Really, I mean it! I want it soft, please!” she cried out, “Please! Fuck me soft, g-gentle! Just—!”

His hips finally eased to a soft roll.

“...yeah?”

She opened her eyes then, and instantly her blood ran cold. His voice was soft and romantic, he’d gotten that part of his act down to a science, but clearly he hadn’t quite figured out how to keep that sadistic fervor from his face.

His eyes were wide, pupils blown. He was clearly trying to keep his smile even and comforting, but he couldn’t fight the way those corners twitched higher and higher, teeth grinding and showing through harder and clearer.

Just a horrible face.

This man was clearly no more a voice of reason than his more blatantly violent partner outside. He too was clearly deranged, a powder keg. Completely unpredictable.

And that made him a thousand times scarier.

Dabi leaned in closer to her, fighting to keep the manic tremble from his voice, “You want me to make love to you?”

She gulped hard, desperate to keep the absolute terror from her voice, “Y-Yes. Please… M-Make love to me…”

He stared down at her for a long moment, utterly reveling in those words long enough for her to start panicking that maybe she’d said the wrong thing.

But thankfully — god, she couldn’t believe she was thinking that — they were exactly the words he wanted to hear. He dropped his head down into her chest, groaning unabashedly as he began to hump into her again, slower for sure, but also deeper. With his entire body and being.

“Fuck, yeah… Yeah baby. Anything you want. I’ll do anything you fucking want…”

She choked out a joyless laugh at that. Anything she wanted, huh? What a fucking joke.

“You’re so good, fuck— perfect . And you too— it’s good for you? Come on tell me baby. I wanna hear how good I make you feel—”

“Uh-huh, it’s good…” she said flatly as she slipped into dissociation.

She stared up at the same tear in the headliner she’d tried to focus on by the end of Shigaraki’s torture, thinking about how oddly shaped it was. Those kinds of tears were usually outright holes, maybe with a flap of fabric hanging off of it. Or maybe it’d be just a little tear, a small line practically unnoticeable in the dim light of this van. But this one was different. Long and unnatural, it almost looked like a big Frankenstein surgical stitch. Or like the dermal piercings running up her captor’s cheeks—

Fuck. Her eyes fell back on her captors flushed, blissed out face. The electric blue of his eyes, the babbling growls spilling from his lips. She was having a much harder time tuning the pleasure out with this man than she’d had tuning out the pain with the previous one, and she didn’t know why.

Maybe it was because he was kind of her type. That’s exactly what she’d thought when he leaned out of the car window to ask her for directions after all. Watching him move over her like this, leaning down to catch her lips passionately with his own more frequently as time went on she couldn’t help but picture an alternate universe.

One where he really had been asking for directions to the beach. Where he’d been alone in his car rather than having a freak friend in the back, lying in wait. And where she’d been standing on the well-trafficked main street just a couple blocks down instead of in front of the empty alleyway she’d been smoking a blunt in when he’d stopped.

A universe where they’d flirted and hit it off and exchanged phone numbers and eventually he’d taken her on a date rather than just taken her. Where these sweet nothings and pleasurable rolls of his hips were accompanied with champagne and room service rather than rope and broken bones.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she pictured it all, what a wonderful life this could’ve been.

“Shhh, shh, shhh,” he cooed, “It’s okay. You’re so perfect, it’s okay…”

But that only caused her to sob harder, face reddening voice straining as she wailed uncontrollably. She didn’t even notice Dabi’s hand slipping up along her body and up to the base of her neck.

His thumb settled snug into that soft, sensitive dip of her throat.

God, she was crying so hard now, she couldn’t breathe.

And then he started to squeeze.

Wait, no, really. She couldn’t fucking breathe —!

She gasped out suddenly, arms instinctually shooting forward to try and force his hand off, but she was once again denied by her restraints. She quickly shifted gears, thrashing her body up and down wildly. And for a moment, she did loosen his grip.

But then he brought his second hand to her throat, pushing her deeper into the mattress.

“Perfect,” he growled through the steady snapping of his hips, “So fucking perfect…”

Her throat bobbed and begged as he constricted his hands tighter, getting lost in the song of her voice getting steadily higher, weaker, until she couldn’t form a word at all, could only gurgle and croak desperately.

“Oh yeah, just like that. Be good for me baby,” he groaned, “Be good…”

He couldn’t say that this was the best part of these excursions, he savored every moment of it after all.

…But there was something particularly special about these last few moments.

It was so rare that anybody actually got to witness them, let alone experience them with their own hands — this perfect feeling of her body both tightening and going pliant around him, stiff and spasming, not to mention the view of it all that sent him barrelling frantically towards his release.

Fuck, she was so pretty! The way her drool spilled out her mouth, all gurgled and frothy. That lovely shade of blue she was starting to turn. The rabid fear that filled those eyes before they started to roll back — fuck even the pink undersides of her eyes were cute. He wondered what the backs of them, the optic nerves, looked like. He was sure they’d be adorable.

He couldn’t wait to see.

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