#don’t @ me bro I’m trying new things

[lynxfrost13]

LSTR-S2301 and the maintenance tunnel ARAR are best friends to me even though that Elster was only on sierpinski for a seemingly brief time, they’re bros who fuck around on the clock during work. I think Elster was probably more willing to put extra time in however she’s also very “okay you’ve given me a list of tasks I did them. They’re done and done well. That’s it, my time now.” Whereas I see Ara being more of a slacker (very valid of her) or at the very least just a bare minimum type of gal when it comes to work.

Idk I tend to imagine them fucking off in the middle of shifts to go find weird lonely corners of sierpinski to hang out in. They don’t even talk half the time but they love it.

[chibishortdeath]

Mspaint is really fun actually—

[zytes]

weird anthropology exhibit

[deus-ex-mona]

wakefulness comes with a ✨price✨

[mutalune]

really wish there was a tag that separated “I’m having Big Angry and/or Angsty Opinions about Star Wars” from “I’m goofing off with Star Wars I’m playing in the sandbox none of this is real so yes I will make my blorbo and this random glub shitto go on an adventure that makes no logical sense” posts because there’s too much of the former and not enough of the latter for my current mental state

[fingertipsmp3]

I wish all food service workers who are weird about regulars always ordering the same specific thing and tease them for it a very “please don’t do that”

[apathyfairy]

being a kid was thinking surely being an adult can’t be that bad but i just spent 2 and a half hours on a thursday morning trying to install a new antivirus on my laptop and now i either have to kill myself or go out and spend 7 dollars on coffee to cope

[maaarine]

Why are British teenage girls so unhappy? Here’s the answer (Caitlin Moran, The Times, Sep 13 2024)

"The report, by the Children’s Society, found that British 15-year-old girls are the most unhappy in Europe.

British girls aged 10-15 are “significantly less happy” with their life, appearance, family and school than the average boy — and their happiness is still declining.

Boys’ life satisfaction, meanwhile, remains broadly stable. (…)

But I still didn’t have an “aha!” moment about why this so disproportionately affects girls until… I talked to some teenage girls.

It was at a party, and I went to vape with them on the patio. Because I take my nicotine like children do.

“Duh — it’s the boys,” one said when I brought it up, as all the others agreed.

“The boys?” I asked.

My last book, What About Men?, had been all about how much boys struggle these days: their loneliness; their suicide rates. I’d spent the past year feeling very sympathetic towards boys.

“Yeah, well, who do you think they’re taking out their unhappiness on? It’s us,” another girl said.

“One boy at school used to draw a picture every day of how ugly I was,” a third girl said. “Every day for two years.”

“They’ve all got ‘Rate The Girls’ polls on their WhatsApps,” the first said. “They mark you down for weight gain, haircuts, what you say.”

“But then, if you’re hot, it’s just as bad, in a different way, because they’ll be talking about how they want to f*** you.”

The girls discussed coping techniques. Bad news: none of them worked.

“The only way you can stop them is if you become ‘one of the boys’ and hang out with them. But then,” the second girl said with a sigh, “all the other girls call you a slut. Because you’ve gone over to the boys’ side.”

“Surely it’s not all the boys?” I said. “There must be some nice boys?”

“Oh, yeah,” one girl said. “But they keep their heads down. Because… well, look.”

She showed me the Instagram account of her friend. Under every picture she posted of herself — smiling in a new dress; with her dog — dozens of anonymous accounts had replied with the most rank abuse.

“Fat.” “Slut.” “You gonna try and kill yourself again, for attention?”

“They’re all boys from her school,” she said. “And look, this one boy tried to defend her.”

I saw a series of messages from a brave teenage boy, posting things like, “You’re all big men, leaving these replies under anonymous accounts.”

As I could see, this boy immediately became a target too. Mainly accusations that he was “white knighting” this girl: “You wanna f*** her, bro?”

“So,” I asked, “you don’t think it’s social media pressure to be beautiful, or the economy, that’s making girls so sad?”

“Well, yeah, them too,” the first girl said. “But, Monday-Friday, 9-3, I’m not on social media. I’m not… in the economy. I’m just with these boys. And no one talks about how horrible they are.”

I thought about another recent report, showing a 30 per cent ideological gap between Gen Z men, who are increasingly conservative, and Gen Z women, who are increasingly progressive.

I thought about Andrew Tate, who has nine million mostly young male followers — and faces human trafficking charges, which he denies.

And I thought: maybe these girls are on to something. Maybe more people need to vape with teenage girls and ask them for the school gossip."

[1roentgen]

weewoo 👽

[kavehater]

The blame is on me for being sappy to her and she doesn’t even acknowledge me anymore

[mochinomnoms]

say you can't sleep, baby, I know

NSFW!Trey x Reader

Synopsis

You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You're trying to rile him up, right? He's supposed to be the responsible, big brother of Heartslabyul, he tries so hard. So, so hard to stay out of trouble and have a normal day-to-day life. Trey used to pride himself on his levelheadedness and restraint, but that all went out the window into a swan dive into the lake when he saw you in his bed in that damn one-piece. “Happy Birthday Trey~”

[wc} - 5,258

[cw/tags] - afab!gn!reader (im sorry folks it's all i know how to write still), NRC is a university in this, domesticity kink, birthday sex, breeding kink (sue me), oral (giving & receiving), trey can be a little mean as a treat

[notes] - i apologize for the person i've become after seeing trey's new b-day card. it does things to me and this is 100% self-indulgent for me. also, tried to use very neutral descriptors for reader so tell me how that went and if it reads well! lastly, the outfit the reader wears is based on sabrina carpenter's outfits from her short n' sweet tour, specifically the baby doll one!

Written while listening to “Espresso” by Sabrina Carpenter, I recommend listening to it while reading :)

Let’s consider exactly the type of person Trey is.

Ever since he’s started school at NRC, he’s always taken a bit of a parental role in Heartslabyul, even before he became vice housewarden. Even Cater would joke about it when they first became friends:

“You’re, like, a total big bro! O-M-G, no! You’re like a dad friend! I’m totes willing to bet that the incoming freshmen are gonna slip up! Call you Dad or something!”

Evidently, when Riddle came into the picture and Trey was appointed his vice, Cater was proven right. He didn’t mind it too much, despite what others might think. 

He liked the familiarity of it, being the oldest at home, it translated well into his position at Heartslabyul, and it came with the added bonus of being able to minimize any chaos that arose. 

That was his main goal, especially with Riddle’s temper during his freshman and at the beginning of his sophomore year. Honestly, he had phenomenal conflict resolution skills, and he just wanted to make his life as easy as possible. 

Everyone at this school liked to make that difficult, though, especially the freshmen of this year.

“Oh fu—I mean sh—dam—fuc—shi—FIDDLESTICKS!”

“Dude, just say fuck, why you gotta say the corniest shit—OW—Treyyy! Deuce hit me!”

Deuce had a guilty look on his face as Trey looked up from his notebook to raise a brow at the two.

“W-well, Ace cussed, so he has to put money in the swear jar!”

“Aw what! Come on Trey!” Ace whined, shoving Deuce’s face to the side as the latter grunted and started pulling at his cheeks and arm. “Riddle’s not here, he’ll never know, so I don’t gotta! Don’t make me!”

Trey simply smirked and gestured to the jar on the fireplace mantle, helpfully available to everyone in the lounge. 

“You know the rules, bud, two thaurmarks for the f-bomb and a .50 cent for the other.”

Ace tossed his head back and groaned, begrudgingly dragging himself over to the jar as he dug around his pocket for change.

“Don’t be rude to your father, Ace.” A few giggles and snorts vibrated amongst the small group studying in the lounge as you wagged a finger at Ace, Grim squinting angrily at the book in your lap. 

Your lips quivered as you hid a laugh, jokingly chastising the ginger. 

“No need to be a brat.”

Trey had to withhold a snort at that comment, rich coming from you. He knew better than anyone that you could be as much of a brat as you were another parental figure.

“Oh ha-ha, very funny, Prefect. What, does that make you, Mom or Dad 2?” Ace stuck his tongue out at you as you grinned and focused back on Grim. 

“Okay Grimmy, so remember, what alchemy recipes need mandrake root?”

Watching from the corner of his eye, Trey watched fondly as you murmured soft words to Grim. It reminded him of his Mom talking to his siblings after a nightmare, or of his Dad after one of them would get hurt in the kitchen. 

Soft, soothing, parental. You’d make an excellent parent one day. 

Trey felt himself get warm at the thought, adjusting himself in his seat and looking back at his musicology notes. He couldn’t sing very well, but he can memorize notes, and that’s what the upcoming exam was focused on. 

That’s what he needed to focus on, not the way you cradled Grim against you like a parent with their child. Focus on his alchemy flashcards, and not the way you cleaned up the mess on the table so you could bring everyone a tray of snacks he’d prepared earlier that day. Focus on the history textbook in front of him, and not the way you cleaned up the lounge as it got later and later.

It wasn’t fair. It was so unfair how well you fell into the role. Cleaning and humming, one of his spare aprons on you as you wiped down the tables of crumbs and stacked a pile of dishes. It was unfair how sweetly you murmured to the few remaining students, and told them to go to bed and rest up. 

They obliged, probably half asleep at this rate, since it was an hour until midnight. Ace and Deuce had retired a while ago, the latter leaning on the former as they haphazardly stumbled to their room. 

Riddle had dropped by after his housewarden meeting, satisfied by the study group, but ultimately stuck to his very strict evening routine. 

Now it was just you two. Even Grim had been tugged along with Ace and Deuce earlier, not unlike a rag doll slung over their shoulders. 

“Trey? Honey, when are you going to sleep? It’s almost midnight.” His eyes fluttered tiredly as he felt your hands slide over his shoulders and a kiss pressed against his temple.

He felt warm again, heat pooling in his belly. You were so unfair. 

“You should go to bed soon, come on, I’ll take care of you.”

He can think of a few ways you could ‘take care’ of him. 

“It’s fine, why don’t you get Grim and head back to Ramshackle? Curfew is in 30 minutes, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, sighing into his ear, making a tingle go down his spine.

“Okay, but please go to bed soon? I left you a little birthday surprise in your bedroom~”

Trey perked up at that, eyeing your mischievous grin as you waved your fingers goodbye, going down the hallway to the dorms to grab Grim.

To be honest, he’d forgotten that his birthday was tomorrow, he’d been so focused on his midterms that it just slipped his mind. Well, he can’t say he’s not excited to see what you got him, especially since you’d been not too subtly probing him for preferences.

He groaned, running his hands over his face and sighing, heavy and exhausted.

“Ugh, just a bit more and I’ll retire for the night.” Trey reassured himself, eyes straining as he looked between the books in front of him. 

The words on the papers blurred after a bit, the sound of the grandclock lulling him further into sleep, his head nodding off until a ping from his phone started him awake.

It was Cater, his Magicam user popping up on his screen. 

cay-cay_diamond: hbd trey!! 🥳🎉🎉🎉grats on being an old man now!

Blinking at the clock, Trey realized that it was now a few minutes past midnight, so it was technically his birthday. He’s lucky that Riddle followed his own sleep schedule so rigorously, or else he’d be getting a scolding for breaking curfew.

luckyclover: Old? I’m only like 4 months older than you cay-cay_diamond: yeah. old. cay-cay_diamond: anyways! enjoy the gift in ur room!!! i helped (name) pick out the wrapping 😘😘😘

Trey hummed, a small smile on his face as he imagined the two of you bickering over wrapping paper and messily wrapping up a box with a bow. You did seem very excited for him to find it earlier, maybe you two picked something out together. 

He was curious on what exactly you got him and why you hadn’t waited to give it to him at his actual birthday party. And why did you need Cater to help you…you’d always shoo him away when he’d tried helping you with gifts for other’s birthdays. 

Stacking his books into his left hand and walking towards the junior dorm rooms, Trey looked at his phone as it pinged again. 

cay-cay_diamond: on that topic thooo…u should rly go 2 ur room and get ur present! the poor thing! they’ve been w8ing very patiently 4 u~ luckyclover: Waiting? (Name)??? cay-cay_diamond: 🤭🤫😉

Trey sighed, shaking his head and tucking his phone away and digging out his room keys. It was times like these, deep into the night, when he was thankful for having his own room. He felt a bit bad now, you probably fell asleep in his bed waiting for him. 

Though, the thought of you clutching one of his pillows, maybe in one of his sweaters to keep warm, made him smile. Then he could come in, gently take your clothes and shoes off to get you more comfortable, and dress down himself to slip in right behind you.

As he finally managed to get to his room, he heard shuffling as he turned the keys. Trey smirked, noticing that only his rose lamp remained on, and all the drapes to his canopy were now closed. 

He could just barely make out the shadow of you moving behind them, hearing you gasp and the bed squeak, making him let out a soft laugh under his breath.

“You’re breaking curfew, you should be asleep you know? You're such a troublemaker sometimes.” Trey teased you as placed his books on his desk, tossing his hat onto its stand and slipping his shoes off to throw them into his wardrobe and grab his slippers. 

He yawned, the late night really starting to sink into his body as he started undressing, his jacket and vest getting hung back up in the closet as he worked on his sash and unbuttoning his pants.  

“Only like a third of the time!” You whined, the bed softly squeaking as you followed his movements behind the canopy. “Besides, I really wanted to give you your present. Don’t you want to unwrap me?”

Trey paused at the purr in your voice, narrowing his gaze as he saw your hand ever so slightly move the curtain at the end of the bed to peek at him. You were still mostly shrouded in darkness, but there was a very soft glow coming from inside the canopy, so he could just barely make out your mischievous smile.

Though, you quickly frowned, eyeing him up and down out of concern. 

“Not if you’re too tired though, you have bags under your eyes, Trey. Do you just wanna go to sleep?”

Giving you a weary smile, Trey finally tossed his sash to the side and reached for the curtains, pushing them to the side to finally take a look at your “mysterious” present. 

“In a bit, let me see what you got me…”

Trey’s breath hitched, he suddenly felt very wide awake as his eyes roamed up and down your body. 

From the corner of his eye, he could see that you set up string lights along the top of the canopy for ambiance, making you look like you were almost glowing. Though it wasn’t that that made him lose his voice. 

You were sitting on the edge of his bed with your legs curled underneath you, dressed in the most darling sage-green, sheer baby doll dress. The dress's puffy sleeves and hem were lacy, matching the lace on the stockings. 

Holy shit you were wearing stockings.

“Ha, I wanted to surprise you, I thought you could use a stress reliever.”

You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?

“I should’ve realized that you’d be tired from studying for midterms, sorry.”

You're trying to rile him up, right?

“But, still, do you like it? I wrapped myself up just for you~”

He's supposed to be the responsible, big brother of Heartslabyul, he tries so hard. So, so hard to stay out of trouble and have a normal day-to-day life. To behave.

“In any case,” You shifted onto your knees, the dress splitting in the middle, the only thing keeping it together being a small bow at the base of your neck, revealing the lack of undergarments, just your bare skin underneath. “Even if you’re too tired and just want to sleep, I just wanted to say…”

Trey leaned in as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in, batting your eyelashes and ghosting your lips over his with a teasing smile. Your hands caressed the back of his neck, a thumb rubbing soothing circles, making him melt. 

“Happy Birthday Trey~”

It’s now that he noticed that you even added a gloss to your lips, and he could smell the warm perfume on your neck as you pressed your lips to his, tongue swiping over his mouth, asking for permission to enter. Obliging, Trey sighed into the kiss and tangled his tongue with yours, his hands slipping underneath the baby doll and squeezing at your waist.

He really should go to sleep. He has to wake up early for the party. He has to dress in his birthday robes. He has to make sure that the others don’t burn down the kitchen or damage his expensive bakeware as they made his cake. 

But the way your skin felt under his gloved hands, skin meeting skin, lace, skin, and lace again.

How could he be expected to sleep now?

Trey used to pride himself on his level headedness and restraint, but that all went out the window into a swan dive into the lake when he saw you in his bed in that damn one-piece.

Humming in delight against your mouth, Trey slid his hands down, as you curled into his body in response, and squeezed at the fat of your thighs before picking you up. 

A yelp left your mouth as he picked you up and tossed you up the bed, pulling off his shirt and tossing it behind him as he crawled on top of you.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he saw the way the dress fell open to expose your body, your chest moving up and down as you watched him with a giddy smile. 

“Oh! I guess you’re not that tired—ah!”

You gasped as Trey grabbed your calves, tugging you up to place the back of your knees on his shoulders. He leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your right thigh, smirking against the lace. 

“I was tired. I should be asleep,” Trey murmured against your stocking laced skin, pressing kisses as he went farther and farther down. “Resting—kiss—Up—kiss—but no.”

He gave you a half-hearted glare, which you responded with a smile and lacing your hands through his hair as he pressed another kiss to the bend where your thigh met your sex. 

“You broke curfew, you wanted to keep me up with your little ‘present’, you know I’d get in trouble for hiding you out in my room.”

Trey gave you a bite on your thigh, groaning as he felt your hands tighten in his hair, moving back to press a soothing kiss to the mark he left.

“Are you trying to get me in trouble? Throw me in the doghouse?”  “Cause I’ll make sure you come right with me, after a little taste of my birthday treat.”

The same time he ran his tongue up your sex, Trey could feel you shiver and pull on his hair as he ate you feverishly, like a man starved from food or water for ages. 

“Mmm! Trey!” You threw your head back, bringing one hand up to slam a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, the walls here weren’t known to be sound-proof. 

He should probably care a bit more, especially when you let out a particularly high-pitched squeal as his tongue began fucking into your hole. 

“Trey! Oooh, Trey~” 

Bringing a finger to join his tongue, Trey smiled against your skin as you squeezed your thighs around his head, using his free hand to push his pants and underwear down to palm at his dick. 

“Trey—aaaah—wait, let me—mmph—Honey—” You let out a shuddering gasp, pulling his head up from your sex. Trey locked eyes with you, leaning into the hand you slid down to cup his cheek and caress his lower lips, wiping the slick and drool from the corner of his mouth.

“Yes? Honey?” Removing his hand from inside you to cover your own hand and kiss your palm, Trey smiled and hummed, “I like that, you know, reminds me of a husband coming home to his spouse.”

Pressing kisses up your body, soft and tingly, up your neck, and back to your lips where they belonged.

“Hmm, I really like the sound of that, (Name) Clover.” You murmured against his lips, smiling as you wrapped a leg around his waist to bring his dick closer to your sex, rubbing against him as you both sighed into each other’s mouths. 

“Is that what you want? You want me to be a cute little spouse? Dress up in a cute apron? Greet you when you come home from work?”

So focused on the softness of your lips and the wetness sliding against his dick, Trey didn’t even notice you twisting your body to turn him onto his back, the back of his head hitting the back of his pillows as you sat on top with a cheeky grin. 

“Hm? How would my husband want me to welcome him home? A hug? A kiss? Mm, what about…me?” Trey watched you with flushed cheeks as you kissed down his body, mimicking his earlier actions as you helped him tug off the rest of his clothes. 

“Oh, how nice it would be for you to come back to a warm, clean home with a spouse…” Looking up at him through your eyelashes and giving him a kitten lick to his tip. “...ready to give soft wet holes for you to fill~”

Giving him a vision into that sweet, sweet future, you swallowed his tip, down his shaft, and started sucking. 

“Haaah—”

Trey lolled his head back into his pillow, letting out a breathless moan as you bobbed your head up and down his length, your hand working the rest that didn’t fit into your mouth. 

“Fuuuuck. That does sound nice—mmh!” Reaching his hand down, you immediately took one of your hands to lace it with his, squeezing it as you hummed around his cock. 

“My lovely spouse—nnnngh—their pretty mouth—unnnh—soft holes—aaaah—all for me to come home to every day, what a dream~”

A particularly harsh suck made Trey arch his back and squeeze your hand harder, a giggle vibrating his dick as you pulled off. 

“Hehe, is this your way of proposing? Kinda dirty to do it with your dick on my mouth.” You giggled, pressing kisses and quick licks along his shaft. 

“That’s okay though, you and I both know that deep down, you’re a bit of a pervert. Right?”

Trey scoffed, tugging you up with a bemused smile. “Yeah? How can you tell? Thought I hid that pretty well.”

A soft laugh escaping you, you held both of his hands, bringing them up to press kisses on his knuckles, making the green-haired man sigh fondly. 

“The way you look at me sometimes, like you’re undressing me. It makes me feel all warm and tingly, especially when I piss you off.”

Both of you let out a breathless moan as your wetness rubbed against his hard dick, grinding against one another as the tip occasionally caught against your hole, making you shiver. 

“Is it bad that sometimes I wanna get you mad so you’ll fuck me real mean? Is it bad that I want you to use me? To fuck your stress out with me?”

A lump forming in his throat, Trey let go of your hands to pull at the string holding your flimsy baby doll together. Eyes half lidded, he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, watching it pool at your elbows as you placed your hands on his chest to steady yourself as your grinding turned into vigorous humping against him, making you both gasp in pleasure. 

“Ooh, Trey, honey, baby, hubby~ Won’t you use me? Be a little mean? Pleeeease? Fuck me, fill me up like I know you want! Pleeeeease Trey? Pretty, pretty please?”

Lips smashed against yours as Trey bolted up, groaning into your mouth as he grabbed your hips in an almost painful grip. 

He picked you up once again, throwing you on all fours, covers tangling against your knees and hands, as he ripped your dress off and tossed it. 

Trey’s left hand placed itself on your hip, while his right pushed down on your back, following up your spine to the base of your neck where he pushed you down to shove your face into the sheets, forcing you into a doggy pose.

“So you do like getting me in trouble, little brat. Fine, I’ll be mean.” 

Trey lined his dick against your throbbing hole, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your ear and moving the hand on your neck to wove with your right, squeezing it reassuringly. 

“Squeeze three times if you need me to stop, otherwise, I’m going to fuck that brain right out of your pretty little head, since you don’t seem to be wanting to use it.”

In one, swift move, Trey slammed his hips to your ass, sinking nearly half his length into your warm, waiting hole. 

“FUCK! YES—MMMPH” Burying your face into the sheets to muffle your cries, Trey did the same into your shoulder, shivering at your tightness around him. 

Setting a rhythm, hips smacking into your ass, Trey worked the rest of his cock into you until he could hear the smack of your ass against his hips, the sound echoing with the creak of the bed.

Your tightness around him was heavenly, as was the sight of you sinking further into the bed and arching your ass to sloppily meet his thrusts. Straightening again, bending your arm back so that your hands could remain intertwined.

His left hand caressed your back and the fat of your behind, before bringing it down in a harsh slap to your ass, making you yelp and squeeze his hand in a vice grip, though you also tightened around his cock. 

Rubbing a soothing circle against the reddening skin, slowed his thrusts, making you whine and push against him. 

“Haaah, that okay? Feel good?” Trey murmured, smiling at the frantic nod and wiggle against him. “Want me to keep going?”

“Mmmph... yessshh... mmmore, mmmore... pleeeashh, honey~” Your sounds were muffled as you bit into the blanket, getting higher and higher as he obliged, not one to deny you after all. 

Every other thrust was met with a slap to one cheek, then the other, the skin turning redder and redder with his handprints marking you. The harder he went, the more and more slack you went, until he was eventually just fucking you like his personal toy. 

Though, you did offer yourself as his present, didn’t you? So it was only fair that he got to use his present as he wished, and right now, he wanted to feel you cumming around him. 

Ceasing his smacks, making you whine, Trey instead melded his body against yours, the weight both overwhelming and comforting, as his left hand instead moved to your sex to rub you to completion. 

Trey watched as you gasped for breath, completely burying your head into the bed to muffled your screams as you came around him, trembling and squeezing him. 

The feeling of your walls pulsating around his shaft was becoming dangerously addicting, and he was very greedy for more of that. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m so close! You can give me another one, right?”

Slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you up, Trey adjusted you so that you sat on his dick, kissing the side of your neck for reassurance as he let go of your hand to quickly slide his arms under your knees. 

From all his years of tossing bags of flour and sugar, from kneading dough, from all the labor he’s done as a baker, picking you up was like child’s play. 

Folding your knees up to your chest so he could hold you, back flush to his chest, was nothing for him. Everything for you, though, your over sensitive hole squeezing down on him again.  

“FUCK! I caaame! Treytreytreytrey—” You dug a hand into his arm, tossing your head back and lolling your tongue out with a dumb, drooly smile on your lips. 

“A-almost there—nngh—just squeeze if I need to stop—I’m so close~”

Smashing his lips against yours for an open mouth, wet kiss, Trey pounded faster into you, determined to feel your walls pulsate again, this time as he filled your insides up like one of his pastries. 

Then, an awful, perverted thought filled his head, like a devil was whispering in his ear. 

Why doesn’t he fill them up with his kids? Don’t stop until his cum is drooling out of their hole, and go again to make up for the lost seed. He already wants them to be his spouse, why not add a few little ones to that picture?

Trey was losing any bit of restraint that he may have had as he was now determined to fullfill his fantasy. Even if you couldn’t do it, magic made anything here possible, and right now is good practice anyway.

“I’m—aaaahhh—I’m gonna come inside, okay? Fill you up, yeah?”

Digging your nails into his skin, you nodded against his mouth and whined. 

“Yessssss! Fill me up! Inside! Gimme a baby Trey! I wanna make you a daaaaddy~”

Squeezing your legs further against your chest, Trey pounded faster and faster, trembling as he reached close and closer to his peak. 

Warmth flooded his body, tingles, and he swears sparks, flying over his skin as he felt you clamp down on him for a third time. 

Your voice squealed higher and higher, any previous attempt to be quiet for naught as you practically screamed.

Trey shuddered as he finally came, cum flooding your warm insides as you went limp in his arms. 

Panting for air, both of you remained still for a minute, the bed feeling stuffy with the curtains still closed. After another minute, Trey pulled you up and off of him, shaky as his now limp dick left your warm, comfortable embrace.

Doing his best to gently place you on the bed, Trey let out a breathless laugh as you collapsed on the bed like a rag doll, blinking your eyes tiredly at the ceiling of the canopy. 

“Haah, sorry, I went too hard there, huh?”

You shook your head, giving him a tired smile and reaching a hand for him, which he took and brought up to kiss. 

“It was good, really, good. You liked your present?”

Snorting and nodding, Trey carefully scooped you up to move your head onto the pillows and gently roll off your garter stocking, thumbs rubbing soothing circles as he did. 

“Yeah, I did. Come on, let me get you a shirt.”

You whined as he pulled away, exhaustion starting to steep into him as he tied back the curtains to the canopy to let the stuffiness out. Trey picked up the baby doll he’d tossed earlier, placing it into his wardrobe drawer as he dug out a shirt and sweatpants for himself and a shirt for you.

As he closed the drawer, he noticed your backpack hidden underneath it, digging in it to grab you some underwear. You had packed a pair of pajamas, apparently, but…he’d rather see you in his clothes. 

“Hmm, honey? Come to bed…” You whined, hands reaching out for him impatiently as he slipped on his clothes, crawling over to you and helping you slip your underwear and his shirt on. 

“I’m here, I’m here.”

Trey slowly blinked, eyelids heavy as he scoop you up to place you two under the covers, the soft mattress making him practically become one with the bed and you as you nestled into his chest. 

Your legs tangled with his as Trey wrapped his arms around you and tucked your head under his chin. He could feel fatigue and sleep quickly taking over him as your voice vibrated against his chest, soft and sleepy. 

“Happy birthday honey, I—yawn—love…you…”

A different kind of warmth, soft and sweet, filled him as he squeezed you tighter against him, murmuring back. 

“I love you too…”

*Riiiing* *Riiiiiiiing* *Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing*

An irritating, loud noise filled Trey’s ears as he groaned, half-awake as he turned over to smack his hand on his phone, silencing the alarm. 

“Aah…Noisy…hhggh.” Trey groaned, rolling over, careful to not crush you under him to blindly reach for his glasses. 

“Glasses…glasses…ah..”

Plastic and glass finally under his palm, Trey slipped his glasses on his face, ultimately throwing himself back into bed next to you, who’d begun shifting awake.

“Mmm, honey?” 

Grunting in response, Trey threw an arm over his eyes, irritated at the sun seeping through the window into his eyes. 

“Early…”

You chuckled, a yawn escaping you as you decided to move closer and slip a hand under his shirt to rub at his chest, pressing kisses into his neck as well. 

“You’re so grumpy in the morning. Come on, you've got a big day ahead.”

“…Ugh, I do?”

Snorting at his response, Trey grunted as he felt you move, peaking under his arm to see you resting on your elbow. You had puffy, dark circles under your eyes from the little sleep you managed to get. 

“Birthdays are a pretty big deal, right?” Smiling at him, Trey squinted an eye and groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in protest.

“Ugggh, yeah…”

Hearing you hum, Trey groaned in surprise as he felt you straddle his waist and caress his neck and cheeks, making him remove his arm to blink up at you. 

Your hair was a tangled mess, sticking up in all sorts of places. The bags under your eyes more noticeable under the night. His shirt dwarfed you. You were a hot mess, all things considered. 

He probably wouldn’t say it out loud, with how cute you were last night, but he thinks you look most beautiful like this. Better than any frilly, skimpy, or tight outfit.

“Come on, Birthday Boy, want me to give you a little pick me up?”

Kissing him with a smile, Trey moaned into the lazy, sloppy morning kiss, tilting his head back as you pressed kissed down his neck, deciding to work on leaving a love bite at the nape of his neck.

Trey’s phone chimed, making him sigh as he reached for it, letting you continue your love bites and kisses, 

Squinting at the few messages, it seemed like a few of his friends and classmates were already sending him birthday wishes. Though, a message from Cater made him blot up, a sudden shock of alertness running down his spine. 

“Ah! Trey, what is it?”

cay-cay_diamond: morning!! happy bday 2 the bday boi again! thought i let u no tht u owe me a favor, had 2 cast a silencing spell on ur roum last nite. totes ruined my beauty sleep! cay-cay_diamond: also i know u got ur lil cutie 2 distract ya, but liek dont b l8 2 ur bday breakfast, grimmy might eat it!

“Shit, we were too loud, Cater had to cast a silencing spell on the room.”

You made an ‘oh’ shape with your mouth, giving Trey an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry, but at least you enjoyed it, right?”

Trey smiled, more awake now, and nodded, sharing a sweet kiss with you. 

“Definitely. You might have to consider making your go-to gift for now on, it’s gotta be my favorite one I’ve ever gotten.”

He solidified that statement with one more, firm, assuring kiss with you, before having to leave your sweet dream into the real world. 

At least he could have one part of that dream with him at his side from now on: you. 

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

Concentrating is so frustrating because the noise around me is either too much or not enough

[wakeup01]

Theft Of A Bro

Uffh. Yeah, that’s good. Just like I thought…tight. We’ll see how long that lasts. No need to talk bro, I know what you want to say. You’re sorry for reacting that way, that me being gay shouldn’t have changed anything. That you shouldn’t have used that slur, or called me a bitch.

Hindsight is 20/20 though, especially when you’re getting fucked by a bro who’s stealing your muscles. Dude, don’t look away. Look me in the eyes, I want you to watch your legs dangle hopelessly above you as I take your masculinity. Take the body you worked so hard for. And I want to see your expression when you begin to love it.

I can already see your arms deflating down there, becoming dainty twigs. You won’t be able to lift a thing with those. That’s okay bro, you can give that bulk to me. I’ll put it to good use. Fuck. See them balloon, so fucking good man. Rrrrww! My biceps feel so much stronger, check out these guns. Check out YOUR guns on my body. Haha. What? Come on bro, you can forgive me for a bit of flexing. Okay maybe a lot of flexing, but I can’t help it. You were always such a egocentric showoff - puffing out your chest like a territorial beast. A textbook, self obsessed fuckboy, now I understand why.

And just look at my expanding pecs. So fucking thick and juicy. Bouncing in time with my th—thrusts! Those used to be yours. You always hated how guys used to eye them up, but now you’ll be the one salivating at them. No need to try and deny it my dude, soon enough your body will have new…needs. Wow bro, you’re already looking real flat down there. Those endless hours spent at the gym to boost your fragile ego, only for me to steal it within seconds. All that definition just fading into your tiny, slimming stomach. Those grab-able hips. Fuck, me on the other hand, I’ve never felt stronger. You could break rocks on here! I’ll take good care of these abs, they look better on me anyway.

Aww, your square jaw is rounding out to a cute little pouty face. Squirm all you want. You look so adorable when trying to seem angry bro. Hard to take you seriously when you’re blushing so intensely. You did always tease my boyish features and now my head is like chiselled marble. And you? That button nose and those freckles, guys are just gonna love you. Say goodbye to being a manly jock. Hello twinky boitoi! I think your waist is now thinner than your girlfriend… or is that ex girlfriend now? That’s a body designed to be fucked brah. So just let me fuck it. Take it like a BITCH! Like the BITCH you thought I was.

Uff. I can feel my cock expanding inside you. The veins pulsing, flowing with blood. Can you feel it too bitch? Yeah, by your expression I know you can. Stretching your hole wide, filling you to the limit. Feels good, doesn’t it. Don’t look now but your dick is shrinking. I’m stealing all that length, all that girth; pushing mine deeper and deeper inside you. Pounding that prostate. There you go. A tiny nub. My churning balls are dropping lower and swelling as yours shrivel up. Mmmff. Fuck that’s sick bro.

Yeah, it’s okay to moan. Your breathy voice getting higher and higher, as mine gets deeper. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s normal for slutty bitches in heat like you. It’s in your nature. Especially when in the presence of an alpha god like me. Whew, my pits are sweating like mad, just smell that intense musk. Smells just like you used to, bet that fact makes you real hard. Smelling your scent dripping from another man as it’s stolen from you.. Sniff and moan. Sniff, moan and give everything to me.

Holy shit, even your skinny legs are hairless now bro. Just like the rest of your smooth, svelte physique. How does it feel? How does it feel to be the ideal gay bottom slut, the very thing you abhorred.

Why so quiet broski? Oh that’s right, we’re trading that pigheaded ego for an eagerness to please. You had enough confidence to share, so I’m taking it. Taking all of it. Fuck. Yes. Your outspoken nature is draining into me, leaving a timid little mouse in it’s place. A stark difference from that rude, puffed-up dick you prided yourself on being. Even now I bet part of you wants to talk back, be a brat. Hm, but that shy smile betrays what you really are. A well behaved boy who knows his manners. Isn’t that fucking right? Heh, good boy.

Look at me and see what you used to be. Marvel at me, marvel at what you’ve lost. Starstruck at your own well deserved comeuppance. Feel your nub twitch at the sight of the perfect man fucking your jock-hood into nothingness. That strength being sapped away. It makes you feel so small and weak. But you can’t tear your eyes away.

Your head? Sorry bro, I got bored of being the dumb one, so yeah, I’m taking your smarts too. Even if you did waste it and let your cock make most of the decisions. Maybe if you hadn’t held it over me, looked down at me. Well…who’s looking down now? Don’t worry, being air-headed has it’s benefits. That empty look in your eyes, the open drooling mouth. Blissful ignorance. The cute way you’ll get confused at the simplest of things. The ‘ummms’ and ‘huhs’ as you bite your lip and push out your rear. Talking like the complete basic bitch gay you once hated. The constant state of mind melting hornyiness. Dumb as a rock. A complete ditz. You’ll get by doing ‘favours’.

I’m not a jackass though. Not like you were. It’s only fair you get something of mine bro, you can have what’s left of my body fat. Unf. Straight to your rear. Let it plump up your butt to a perfect round bubble. A wobbly shelf. A big bouncy booty. Woof. Yeah just like that. The perfect entrance to your endlessly usable fuck hole. Damn, it’s tight. Let’s conquer it.

Bruh, your masculinity is truly delicious, surrender the rest up to me. To my new hulking, godlike form. Purge every trace of manliness from your puny effeminate body with abject glee. Lisp, smile and giggle like a silly little girl. Like the Femboy you were destined to become.

Like a BITCH.

Say again? Bthweed? Oh, you want me to BREED you. Way ahead of you bro. When I cum with my monster cock, your pretty little head will become stuffed with thick, cummy cotton candy. And bro, it’s never gonna clear up again. I have a new adorable outfit already picked out for you. Thigh high socks, booty shorts, a tiny thong and a nice thick collar with your name on the tag. BITCH.

I’m gonna enjoy parading you out in front of all our fraternity bros. You’ll pretend to be all timid and ashamed but I’ll know you’re actually loving the sense of humiliation. Loving your new place as my emasculated gay fucktoy. If you beg enough I might even let the rest of the frat borrow you. I’ll be sure to let ‘your’ girl know that you were a good hole after being passed around. Maybe she’ll even give you tips, you’ll be besties in no time.

Hm? That’s ‘thank you sir’ to you. That’s better. Let’s be clear, we’re not ‘bros’ anymore. I’m a fuckmachine and you’re a glorified fleshlight. We need to make sure you don’t forget your role. A simple tag will suffice. I’ll even let you choose where your ‘BITCH’ tattoo goes. Forehead or rear, it’s up to you. Yeah boi, I think it’ll look good there too.

Now open wide BITCH and be ready to swallow. I’m about to fucking blow.

———-

Whew! That was a good fuck. Clean up boy, the other bros will be here soon and I…woah. Damn, I feel lightheaded. It’s like my brain is overstuffed. With…stuff. And my cock, uughhh. It won’t soften. Maybe I took a bit too much from you, but fuck, I couldn’t help myself. You deserved it after all. But bruh, I need to lift! Huhuh! Oh shit. I don’t want to be exactly like you were! But dude. Like bruh! My head! Gotta lift! Gotta flex! Gotta get to the gym and be the blockheaded fuckboy muscle jock this body deserves!

Pass me your old jockstrap, yerhh, my huge cock gonna do the thinking for the both of us brooo!

[nymphomatique]

wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻

this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.

cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!

“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”

miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’

you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.

peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.

you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.

immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”

you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.

you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.

a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”

miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”

you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.

after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.

peter 🚮

| is that fucking o’hara..?

| you’re fucking with me???

| fucking whore

| you sleep with nerds now??

you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.

you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.

fucking dweeb.

[bigbuffjoonie]

I’m always late to the party but omg I love this fic already!! Enemies to lovers villain au w crack SIGN ME THE FUCK UP!!! Pardon my multiple tags of nonsense it’s the primary way of expressing my thoughts on the fic 😅

Versus | MYG, JHS - Chapter One

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Hoseok

Genre: smut, fluff, angst, crack, enemies to lovers, Villains!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: weapons - daggers & laser swords (*cough like lightsabers cough*), use of restraints, swearing, violence (hand-to-hand combat), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of squirting, Dior Hobi and Ginger Yoongi are the visuals here

Word Count: 2.9K

Disclaimer: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: Supervillain exes Yoongi and Hoseok are sick and tired of having their plans for world domination wrecked by you, aka Vitality, the world’s most powerful superhero. When fellow villain Jimin suggests a little competition to see who can bring you to your knees, they both eagerly accept. Now the battle is on as both men engage you in fight after fight to see who will conquer you first. Will you finally defeat these two, or will they destroy you - and possibly take each other out in the process?

A/N: It's finally here! This new series stems from an ask I got back in November from my beloved Bloobs pointing out that red-headed Yoongi in that striped suit at the PTD press conference was 100% sexy evil villain material. That little idea became this Villains!AU.

Unbeta’d as usual. I’d love to know what you think - my inbox is always open! 💕

Series Masterlist ✨ Chapter Two ✨ Character Playlists

CHAPTER ONE: A MODEST PROPOSAL

You tug against the restraints, testing their give. There is none. 

“Finally, our little dance comes to an end, pretty bird,” Yoongi coos, twirling his dagger, the light from the lamp swinging overhead reflecting off the long blade. “Does that make you sad?”

“You make me sad,” you hiss. “You’re pathetic.” 

He’s annoying the fuck out of you right now, as usual, refusing to shut up long enough to let you figure out what’s going on with your powers. Again you try to access them and fail. 

This isn’t the time to panic. You need to get free. Guess you’ll have to do this the hard way.

Yoongi’s gaze rakes over you slowly as you hang helplessly against the wall. Ignoring the sudden stirring in your gut, you pull on the ropes. There. Your left hand. If you can just twist a little more….

Yoongi presses his blade against your throat. The cold metal bites into your skin as his other hand grips your shoulder, and you freeze, going completely still beneath his touch.

“What was that, pretty bird?” he asks, cat-like eyes targeted on your lips. “Say that again.” 

You glower at the handsome villain with the ginger hair. “I said, you. Are. Pathetic!”

His laugh echoes throughout the room. “Incredible. Even at death’s door, you’re still obnoxious.” He steps closer, face hovering above yours as he traces down your cheek with the tip of his weapon. You tilt your head away, inadvertently exposing more of your neck. “Look at this lovely blank canvas, just asking to be marked up. Should I use my blade or my teeth?” He snaps at you and you recoil despite the shiver that races through you. “No response? You’re not even going to beg for your life?”

“I’ll never beg,” you growl through grit teeth, eyes flashing. Yoongi smirks. 

“Let’s find out.” He sheaths his dagger and now both of his hands are around your throat, not squeezing, just resting heavily, as his thumbs trace over the hollow of your neck. “I can feel your pulse, pretty bird. It’s so fast. I think you’re terrified.”

You scoff, but you can feel your heart beating so fast, it’s threatening to jump out of your chest. 

Yoongi licks his lips, humming happily. “I think I could have you begging in no time. Asking for sweet release.” His fingertips flutter over your cheek. “I bet you’d beg so sweetly.” 

You’re so close. Just keep him distracted. 

“Fuck off,” you spit out, “you couldn’t give me the release I want if you tried.” 

Yoongi pauses. He squints.

“What was that?”

Shit. You’re really bad at this whole banter thing. It’s probably your least favorite part of the superhero gig.  Maybe you should ask Namjoon for some help. The man’s got a wicked tongue.

“Nothing, nevermind! You’re - you’re so fucking lame,” you sneer, but from the grin on Yoongi’s face, you know he’s not buying it. 

“Why, pretty bird, you surprise me! I wasn’t referring to that type of release, but I am… amenable… to suggestions like that,” he purrs, one hand dropping to your waist as he chuckles. His long fingers stroke your side.

Focus. On the restraints, god, not on his hand or the way that his deft fingers are etching tiny circles into your hip…

There!

“I have another suggestion,” you whisper, biting your lip. Yoongi watches your mouth with naked interest.

“And what is that?”

“Learn how to tie a proper knot, fucker.” 

The last thing Yoongi sees before your fist connects with his face is your smirk.

ZZZZZZZRT!

Your laser sword buzzes against Hobi’s as you block another swing. He has you on your heels, retreating as he cuts through the air violently, a nasty grin on his lips. 

You curse yourself for letting your swordsmanship get so rusty and swipe at the villain as he cackles darkly. “Give it up, little bee,” he commands, and you raise the electric blade in time to prevent losing an ear. “You can’t defeat me like this. Your skills are no match for mine.” 

He’s not wrong. Once again without your powers, you have to rely on your other abilities, and wielding this fancy weapon is nowhere near the top of the list. 

“Defeat this!” you shout lamely, throwing a punch with your free hand, but he easily dodges, still laughing. You continue to back away, unaware that one of his henchmen lies unconscious behind you until you trip over the body and land on your ass. 

Fuck.

He advances slowly, taking his time. You’re both panting, dripping sweat. He runs a hand through his dark hair, lifting it from his gorgeous face. You hold your blade in front of you and he simply knocks it away, dropping his as well. 

He’s on you before you can react, kneeling over your thighs, one hand pinning your wrists to the ground while the other clutches at your throat. “I don’t even need any weapons now. I can break you with my bare hands.” His grip is ironclad, but you keep struggling anyway, trying to break free as his fingers stroke your chin. “Come now, no need to fight anymore. Don’t you want to give in? Let me take control?”

A heat pools in your belly. You can so easily imagine what it would be like. 

It scares you to no end. 

“Fuck off, you monster,” you scowl. “I’ll never let you have control.” Inhaling shakily, you do your best to glower up at him as his hand rubs your stomach, like he can sense the heat coiling there and seeks to stoke it. 

Hobi sighs. “It could be so sweet, little bee. Just say the word and I’ll show you.”

“If you’re going to kill me, do it already and spare me this bullshit.” 

“Kill you? I’m offering you the chance at pleasure, and you’re asking me to kill you?” His eyes narrow. “You disappoint me so.” 

“Do it. Finish me off. Don’t torture me by promising me pleasure you can’t deliver,” you spit back.

Hobi just laughs. “Seriously? Now you’re trying to goad me into proving it to you, so you can get the upper hand again?”

Well, actually, yes. Goddamn stupid banter. You’ve got to get better at this distraction tactic.

He shakes his head. “After all this time, I truly expected better from you. This lame attempt won’t work.” 

“Whatever,” you seethe, sneering. “Doesn’t matter. It wouldn’t be good like this anyway.”

“And what makes you say that?” Hobi inquires, raising an eyebrow.

“Because!” You summon all your strength and roll, hard, flipping your positions. As he stares up at you, mouth hanging open in surprise, you wink. “It’s always better when I’m on top!”

Grabbing your sword, you smack him with the hilt, knocking him out. 

Jimin clicks the overhead projector off and the wall goes black. 

Hobi folds his arms. “Did you call us here just to show us the videos of our latest defeats?” 

Yoongi cocks his head. “How did you show us the videos of our latest defeats? Did you have Jungkook hack our systems again?”

Jimin waves his hand. “We can discuss the how later. The reason why is pretty evident, don’t you think?” He takes a seat behind his desk, propping his feet up on the glass surface. “You’ve both lost your touch.” 

Hobi arms the laser gauntlets he wears while two blades slide out of Yoongi’s sleeves. 

“Hold on, hold on,” Jimin attempts to placate the two before they unleash hell. He just got the blood out of his rug after the last time. “All I’m saying is, it’s way past time that someone removes Vitality from the board for good. Watching those videos, it could have been either of you.” He tuts. “I even loaned you both my power disrupter tech and she still kicked your asses!”

“That tech is glitchy as fuck and you know it, Jimin-ah.” Yoongi mutters, sheathing his daggers, as Hobi nods in agreement.

“Yeah, I keep asking you to send me the specs so I can review them and figure out where the fuck you went wrong.” 

“The tech isn’t the issue,” Jimin maintains his brilliant smile, but his left eye twitches slightly. “You both had the world’s most powerful superhero in your clutches, completely at your mercy, and then you just… lost.”

“Hyung could’ve taken her out if he hadn’t been thinking with his dick,” Hobi drawls.

Yoongi blinks languorously at his ex. “You’re one to talk. What was that about ‘pleasure,” again?”

Hobi uncrosses his arms. “Of course you’d have no idea what I’m talking about.”

Yoongi swivels in his seat. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean??”

“Hey!” Jimin claps his hands. “I didn’t call this meeting so you two could relitigate your disastrous relationship for the millionth time.” 

When Jimin had sent out the evite for today’s meeting, he figured he’d have to do some cajoling or even some old-fashioned begging to get them both into his office once they realized what he’d done. After all, both have complained his ear off lately about the other. But instead, the two seemed to be under some tacit agreement to act as if everything were totally fine, like they weren’t in the presence of their most hated enemy. An unspoken contest to show who could give the fewest fucks.

He should’ve known that uneasy detente wouldn’t last.

Yoongi and Hobi stop glaring at each other to glare at the rainbow-haired man behind the desk instead.

“Then why did you call us here?” Hobi finally asks. 

“Because, I would like to propose a challenge.” Jimin beams, a deceptively angelic smile lighting up his beautiful face. Neither man responds. “Well? Aren’t you going to ask what I’m proposing?”

“No,” Hobi replies flatly.

“Just tell us what your warped little mind is scheming now,” Yoongi adds.

Jimin holds a hand over his heart. “Ouch. Okay. I’m proposing that the two of you go head-to-head in a battle to see who can defeat Vitality first. No more plans to freeze the entire planet or block out the sun or whatever the hell the two of you have been plotting lately. Time to focus on one goal: eliminating the enemy.“

Yoongi frowns. “Why a battle?” 

“Would you rather work together?”

The two men eye each other for several long seconds before both emphatically answer, “No.” 

“But why should it be the two of us and not, say, you?” Hobi inquires. 

“Because no one’s gotten as close as either of you, including me,” Jimin explains. 

“Because he wants us to do his dirty work,” Yoongi translates. 

“Ah, right.” 

“That’s not true!” Jimin insists. “I mean, yes, I would obviously benefit from you keeping her out of my hair, but… look, you both came so damn close. Don’t you want to finish the job?”

“Of course. I want her out of the way. But I’m not about to jump through a bunch of your hoops to get it done,” Yoongi informs him.

“No hoops! Just a simple competition. The two of you take her on one by one until someone finally annihilates her once and for all.”

“But… why?” Hobi asks, arching a brow. “What do we get out of this?”

Jimin spreads his hands. “Everything! Think about the boost to your reputation alone! The villain who defeats the strongest superhero in recorded history would be peerless, wouldn’t they? Top of the pecking order, cock of the walk, insert your favorite cliché here. No one would question your power.” 

Hobi scoffs. “I don’t give a fuck what others think of me.”

Yoongi laughs loudly, drawing an irate look from the other man.

“What the fuck are you laughing about?”

“Oh, please! You couldn’t possibly care more!”

“Fuck you, I’ve never given a damn ab-”

“I have three words for you,” Yoongi interrupts, holding up his fingers to tick them off. “The. Riga. Incident.” 

“You said you’d never bring that up again!”

“Oh, but you don’t care what people think, right? So maybe I should tell Jimin what happened in Latvia!”

“Fuck you!” Hobi’s on his feet.

“No, fuck you!” As is Yoongi.

And so is Jimin, diving between them. “HEY!”

Blades and gauntlets hover, waiting. The air is thick with tension. Jimin can feel a migraine lurking. 

“Calm. The fuck. Down.” He gently places a hand on each of their chests, guiding them back into their chairs. “You want to know why I thought a battle would be a good idea? This is why. I’ve tried to get the two of you to work your shit out and nothing’s helped. Maybe this way, you can funnel all of this anger into something useful. Something other than turning my rug into a goddamn bloody Jackson Pollack!”

Yoongi and Hobi continue to observe one another closely, monitoring for any signs of attack from the other as Jimin returns to his seat. Taking a deep breath, he straightens his tie, smooths the lapel of his gunmetal gray suit, and runs his hand through his colorful hair. The glossy facade returns as he smiles. 

“Gentlemen. Commit to this competition. Get rid of Vitality. Bring her to her fucking knees and destroy her. Once she falls, that stupid organization she works for won’t be far behind.” He chuckles derisively. “We all know she’s the only real threat to us. None of the other supers can hold a candle to her power. They’ll be easy pickings once she’s out of the way. And when that group is gone, the path to total domination will be clear. Take Vitality out,” he stands again, leaning over his desk, “and there’s nothing stopping you from taking over the world.” His tiny fist pounds his desk for extra oomph.

Jimin’s dramatic as fuck, Yoongi thinks, but dammit if he’s not persuasive.

“Fuck it. I’m in,” Hobi declares, holding out a hand. Yoongi flattens his lips, taking a second to decide, before shaking it. 

“Excellent!” Jimin rubs his hands excitedly. “We can work out the terms of the challenge later. I’m fucking starving - should we grab some dinner?” 

“Hold on. I still want to talk about how you got those videos,” Yoongi states, blades flashing into the air again as Hobi rearms his gauntlets. Jimin gulps. 

He knew he should’ve bought a red rug.

Sitting up with a start, you glance wildly around your room. “What the fuck was that?”

“Mmmm?” Namjoon lifts his head, licking his plush lips. “What?”

“I felt something. Something… different.”

“Oh, that? I just turned this on. Sorry, guess I should’ve warned you.” He pulls his hand from where it’s currently engaged, and wiggles his fingers. A bright purple vibrator waves at you from his index. 

You frown at the hunky man lying between your legs. “Christ, Joon, not the vibrator. I obviously noticed that, and don’t you fucking think about taking it off, but I also felt something else. Like a change in the air.” 

“Ohhhhh shit, like a fluctuation in one of your energy field thingys or something?”

Or something. Thanks to your superpowers, you see things a little differently than others do. The world is bathed in a multi-colored glow thanks to the energy fields present in everything - every living creature and every object - that you’re able to perceive. Kinetic, potential, radiant, etc. - doesn’t matter the type, all of these leave you viewing life through a constant prism.

But lately, not only can you see these fields, you can feel them. 

And something just shifted somewhere, hard enough that it sent a crazy shiver down your spine.

Or maybe that was just Joon and his magic touch.  

“Do you wanna go talk to Doc? Visit the lab?”

Why bother? Since you’re the world’s first known energy vampire (you really wish you’d had a say in the nomenclature, because that name sounds like you’re an exceedingly dull office drone and not the most powerful being on the planet), your powers do nothing but consistently stump the scientists. All they really know is that you feed off the fields, absorbing the energy, and your body transforms it into a concussive force that you use to fight.

Besides, it’s ridiculous that you have to report anything to anyone, anyway. No one can challenge your status as the most formidable superhero in existence. Shouldn’t they all be reporting to you?

You really gotta work on that whole “no I in team” thing. 

“Eh, won’t do any good. They don’t know shit.” Lying back, you resume your comfortable position on your pillows.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind if you need to stop.”

You raise your head, giving your teammate a look. “Excuse me? You promised you’d give me, and I quote, ‘the squirt of a lifetime’ tonight. Are you trying to back out?”

“Fuck no.” Namjoon clicks the vibe on again. His finger begins to shake. “I’m just warming up, baby. You’re gonna soak these sheets. I fuckin’ promise.” 

“Back to work, then.” 

The soft yellow aura emanating from Joon brightens as he returns to his task, and you let his ministrations carry you away, trying to forget the strange sensation from earlier. 

It only takes two orgasms before you both succeed.

© 2022-23 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

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[hanniebaeee]

The Wedding

Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: nothing other than some shameless flirting and kissing

Genre: arranged marriage, best friends to lovers, flufff

Summary: You and Felix grew up together and are best friends. You both always knew that you'd have an arranged marriage, that's how it always works. But you don't expect to have an arranged marriage with your best friend.

Part 2 - The Honeymoon

The news hits you like a ton of bricks. Of all the things in the world you expect your parents to say to you, this was never on the list. Your mum is going on about "you and Felix finally being together."

Felix?!

As in, Lee Felix, your best friend, Felix?

The one who let you cheat off his math tests back in high school? Your partner in crime?

Your parents look so happy about this. Your dad is nodding approvingly as your mum goes on about how wonderful this will be, because Felix has always been like her son anyway.

You slip outside once your dad pats your shoulder softly and tells you that he's such a good boy and perfect for you. Pulling out your phone, you call him, your hands trembling. Felix answers after one ring.

“Bro, what’s happening here?” he says, his deep laugh rumbling through the line. Oh, so he knows.

The urge to whack him - again - on calling you "bro" is so strong, but just for this time, you let it slide. But your heart flutters a little because he sounds unexpectedly warm and close…like he’s right next to you.

“Are you… like, okay with this?” you ask, your voice a little shaky.

He pauses, then his voice softens.

“I mean… yeah. I guess. I mean, it's us…better than… you know?” he says, and you just know that he's blushing. You can imagine that soft pink of his cheeks and the perfect dusting of freckles - ok, get a grip!

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He’s right. You knew you would have an arranged marriage at some point. That's how it works in your family, well, your families. But this is Felix. Your Felix.

You meet later that afternoon, in your usual cafe. He's smiling as you approach and take a seat across him. But this time, everything feels different.

“Hello, princess,” he teases, his grin wide as he sits back, eyes trained on you. “Should I start calling you wifey now?”

“Stop it,” you hiss, kicking him under the table, but he only laughs, his eyes twinkling.

“Oh, come on, fiancée,” he says, stretching out the word like he’s savoring it. “Aren’t you excited? You get to see this face every morning now.”

He points at himself, giving you a cocky grin.

“You’re ridiculous!” you laugh, lifting your hand to attack him, but he just catches it and holds it.

You freeze, suddenly hyper-aware of how warm his fingers feel against yours, his thumb tracing small circles along your skin.

“Hey, don’t get shy on me now,” he whispers, leaning in just a bit closer. “You've literally been my wifey for so long…?”

Your cheeks are on fire, and you yank your hand back, trying to ignore the way your heart is trying to leap out of your chest.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, bro,” you mutter, trying to recover as he just laughs harder.

“Hey, if I’m your fiancé, I better not hear that word coming from your mouth,” he warns, grinning. “Unless you want me to punish you for it.”

“Oh my God! What's up with you all of a sudden?!” You say, totally exasperated with his change. “And besides, it's not like you can just-”

He raises a brow and says, “Try me.”

And that’s when you realize that Felix is actually not just ok with. He's absolutely fucking celebrating this.

A storm of engagement prep begins (immediately), and your mum takes matters into her hands to ensure you look like the world’s most ‘eligible’ bride-to-be. This means you are in and out of boutiques and fittings and stylings and what not. It's a pain.

“Mum, please,” you groan, eyeing that ridiculous necklace she's holding out to you. “Felix doesn’t care if I wear that. He’s seen me looking like a troll! I don't have to-”

“That was before he had to put a ring on your finger in front of every important person in town,” she says, pinning you with that look. “Do you want Felix regretting this before he even says ‘I do’?”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, Felix wanders in casually, and leans against the doorframe watching you both glare at each other.

“Lixie!” you say, calling him over to settle the debate. “Do you or do you not find me sexy and appealing?”

Your mum’s mouth drops open at your bluntness and she glares daggers at you, but Felix just smirks as he walks over to you.

“Of course I find you sexy and appealing, wifey,” he says, with a shameless wink in your mum’s direction.

You mum sighs before she leaves the rooms, huffing and muttering something about “you two being a lost cause”.

The second the door closes, you give him your best glare. “I told you, stop calling me that.”

Felix just grins, tilting his head and letting his voice drop into a low drawl as he says, “What else would I call my wifey, hmm?”

You feel that little flip in your tummy, and you try to step back, but he only follows, stepping closer.

“FELIX!” you warn, heart racing as he grins, closing the distance between you until his face is dangerously close to yours.

“Where are you going?” he teases, his eyes glinting playfully.

You let out a huff, backpedaling toward the door.

“Outta here,” you say quickly, but he steps forward, his hand braced against the wall next to your head, blocking your way.

“What’s wrong, wifey?” he whispers, voice sultry. “Not scared of me, are you?”

“Please,” you scoff, though your cheeks are burning. “You're so full of yourself.”

“Oh, is that so?” he smirks, looking down at you like he wants to eat you up.

You swallow, eyeing him suspiciously, because what the hell happened to your goofy bestie? But before you start to side step him, he steps back with a satisfied grin, letting you go.

“I came to tell you that we're going ring shopping tomorrow.” He says with a wink. “You, me and mum.”

“Ok, you don't have to kill me for that.” You grumble, as you take the chance to bolt out of the room. You're sure you hear him chuckle behind you, and you can't help but smile.

Ring shopping with Felix and his mum is already more nerve-wracking than you expected. Mummy dearest just wants you to have anything you want. Or everything.

A pair of pretty earrings catch her attention and she floats away to take a look, and Felix sidles up next to you, giving you that smirk of his.

"Just pick whatever you like, Lix,” you tell him, attempting nonchalance as you point to a display case. “It’s just a ring - I really don't mind."

“It should be something you like, don’t you think?” he asks, his eyes never leaving you.

You narrow your eyes at him, flustered.

“Yah, I'll like anything you choose, ok?” you mumble, looking away, hoping that you don't look like a tomato in a dress.

“Of course,” he says, looking through the rings.

You start browsing too, but every time you risk a glance at him, you find him staring at you with that amused smirk on his stupidly handsome face.

“Felix,” you hiss, trying not to stutter. “Will you stop that? You’re distracting me.”

“Sorry babe,” he says, his voice low. “Can’t help it… ”

Your face heats up, and you stumble over your words as you try to regain some dignity. Just then his mum is back, and gives him a little slap on his arm.

“Felix, stop making her uncomfortable.” she scolds, and he just laughs and asks you, “Are you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?” You scoff. “I’m two seconds away from shoving these rings down your throat.”

He bursts out laughing and says,“Ah, there’s my girl. Feisty as ever.”

You shoot him a look, desperately trying to fight your smile, and glance over at the rings. You two finally settle on a delicate design - a simple band with a round diamond gleaming in the center.

“Good choice,” he says, his voice unexpectedly soft. “Looks like it was made for you.”

His words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you can’t look away from him. There's a warm, unfamiliar feeling stirring in your chest, and it just makes you want to pull him into a hug.

“Well, it’s perfect! Let’s get it.” Felix’s mum claps her hands, calling an end to your ring hunt.

The engagement party is a whirlwind of lights, drinks and an endless stream of guests congratulating you and Felix. The venue is breathtaking - but the heat and attention are a bit overwhelming. Your dress, though gorgeous, is sticking to your body uncomfortably, and it's getting harder and harder to keep your smile up. You feel your anxiety creeping up, ready to take over.

Just when you think you might combust under the pressure, you feel a warm hand slip into yours. You look up to see Felix, and without a word, he tugs you out of the crowd and into the gardens.

Outside, the cool air feels so good on your sweaty skin, and you sigh in relief. Felix leads you to a little bench nestled under a tree, and you see a glass of wine and a plate with a slice of cake he’s swiped from the party. And also a little bottle of water from his pocket.

“Better?” he asks, as he watches you take a sip of the water.

“Much better,” you breathe, grinning. “I was about to go hide under a table.”

He chuckles, leaning back and taking a sip of the wine, his eyes lingering on you.

“Couldn’t let my fiancée be hiding under tables, could I?” he says, nudging your knee with his.

You roll your eyes, laughing. But you catch a glimmer of something softer in his expression, something almost vulnerable.

“So…” he begins, looking away, sounding a bit more serious. “You’re really okay with this? I mean, me? Doing this with me?”

You can tell he’s hiding a bit of worry behind his charm, afraid you’re anxious about being with him. The thought alone makes your heart ache a little, and you reach out, slipping your hand into his. You give his fingers a gentle squeeze and smile softly.

“Felix,” you say, looking him right in the eyes, “I’m so glad it’s you. I really am. I mean, I feel like the luckiest person alive to be marrying my best friend.”

For once, his easy, cocky confidence falters. He blushes, a soft pink covering his cheeks as he looks down, biting his lip. He lets out a small, shy laugh, his fingers tightening around yours.

“I feel the same,” he murmurs, his voice so low, it's barely audible.

Felix wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a warm, tight hug. You let yourself sink into it, your own arms going around his neck. You feel his heartbeat against yours, everything else fading away as you just hold each other.

This feels so good - just the two of you, close, cozy, and warm. But just as you’re starting to relax, you feel his hands begin to wander. It slides a bit too low down your back and you pull back to stare at him, wide eyed.

“Felix!” you whisper-yell, squirming. “Keep your hands to yourself!”

“What?” he says, feigning innocence. “Can’t a man hug his future wife?”

You try to glare at him, but it’s impossible to keep a straight face as he grins down at you like that.

“If you want to keep all ten of your fingers, you'd be more careful.” you say dryly, letting him pull you in for another quick squeeze before finally letting go. But his arm stays draped around your shoulders, as if he’s not willing to let you go just yet.

If engagement prep was a pain, wedding prep is basically a full-time job. Your days are a blur of dress fittings, cake tastings, and jewelry appointments - and it's totally exhausting.

And if all that wasn’t enough, your mum has taken it upon herself to enforce a strict “no Felix” rule until the wedding. Apparently, she thinks that if you keep hanging out with him, you’ll run out of things to talk about post-wedding. You practically choke on air when she says it.

“Are you serious? He's my best friend! Who am I going to talk to then?” you ask, only to get a very serious look from her.

“Trust me, you’ll thank me when you’ve still got some surprises left.” she says, and you just huff, mentally counting down the hours until you can actually see Felix without her watching you like a hawk.

During dinner with Felix and his family that night, your mum casually drops the news that both sets of parents have planned to gift you and Felix a massive, all-expenses-paid honeymoon.

Felix glances at you from the opposite side of the table, trying not to grin and you do your best not to look at him. And he nudges your foot under the table and you nudge back, until your mum gives you a sharp glare and you quiet down.

Later that night, Felix sneaks over to your room as the parents get busy, and you both sit cross-legged on your bed, a laptop open between you, scrolling through honeymoon destinations. The choices are endless - beach resorts, mountain cabins, historic villas, exotic getaways…

“A beach resort, huh? Imagine you… in one of those little bikinis…all warm and sun-kissed. I suggest a beach resort.” Felix says, leaning into you.

You sigh as you say, “Felix! Shut up! I assure you there won't be any bikinis.”

He laughs and says, “Or what about the mountains? We’ll be all alone in a cozy cabin, we can just get comfy in front of the fire with the snow falling outside… and absolutely nothing else to do all day. Just you know…it's always the cold that -”

He playfully shoves you a little, and you shove him back a little too hard that he falls off the bed and lands on the thick rug with an exaggerated groan, rolling onto his back with a pained look.

Just as you’re about to scold him for being ridiculous, your door creaks open, and your mom walks in, her mouth dropping open at the sight of Felix sprawled on the floor.

“What are you doing?” she screeches, giving you an incredulous look.

You freeze, as if caught committing a crime, as you stutter, “He - Mum, he was asking for it.”

She puts a hand on her hip, shaking her head.

“That’s no way to treat your future husband! Honestly, Y/N, his parents are still downstairs!” she scolds.

Felix, barely containing his laughter, shakes his head.

“I’m fine, Mrs. Y/L/N. She just doesn’t agree with my honeymoon choices, that’s all.” he says, looking like a perfect angel.

You shoot him a glare and say, “That’s because they’re terrible.”

“Oh, really?” he says, smirking as he stands up, brushing himself off. “I just suggested a few exciting options. It’s not my fault you’re so-”

“Felix,” you interrupt, your voice dangerously low, “I swear to God-”

Your mom sighs, looking between the two of you with exasperation. “I have nothing to say to you two. Felix, I need you downstairs in 10 minutes. No excuses.”

“Yes ma'am.” He says, giving her a salute and she leaves, shaking her head.

You let out a sigh of relief, trying to ignore the smug grin on Felix’s face as he plops back on the bed beside you. He's sitting closer now, it feels like he's trying to climb into your lap.

“Alright, love,” you mutter. “We’re not going anywhere with snow. If I’m going to be stuck with you, I’m going to need sunshine.”

He grins and says, “Ah, so you do want to wear the little bikini.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the little shiver of excitement that courses through you. You point to the screen, settling on a gorgeous beach resort with crystal-clear waters and beach cabins.

“Happy?” you ask, trying to ignore the flutter in your heart.

“Oh, you have no idea,” he murmurs, resting his forehead on your shoulder. “I can’t wait.”

The look in his eyes is wicked, leaving you flustered.

The night before the wedding, you’re a wreck. You’re an anxious mess, and every time you close your eyes, all you can think about is the ceremony, the crowd, the vows… and of course, the part where you’re supposed to kiss Felix. In front of a hundred people. For the very first time.

Finally, at the end of your rope, you grab your phone and text Felix.

You: Are you sure about tomorrow? Like sure sure?

He replies almost instantly.

Lix: Why would you even ask me that?! Are you planning on ditching me tomorrow?

Lix: Babe? Y/N don't scare me like that!

You: No! No no no...I'm sorry.

You: I just...I miss you.

There’s no reply, and you regret having texted him. A fresh wave of anxiety hits you, when you hear a sound at your window. You look over, and there he is - Felix, grinning as he climbs in like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Oh my God, you’re insane,” you say, but you’re smiling as you rush over and throw your arms around him, his warmth enveloping you as he holds you tight.

“Can't let you freak out alone, you know,” he murmurs, his voice soft in your ear. “I want you to know that “I’ve never been this happy before. Marrying you… it’s the best thing that could happen to me.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you want to say something equally romantic back, but all you can manage is a soft, “I’m scared.”

His face softens, and he squeezes you a little before asking, “Of me?”

“No,” You sigh. “About everything else. All the people, they'll all be watching us…I'm scared about… kissing you…it's -” You feel your cheeks heat up, embarrassed to admit it.

“Ohhh,” he says, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “So that’s what’s got you all worked up. The kiss?”

He raises an eyebrow, cupping your cheeks with his hands. “Well, you know, if you need to practice, I’m here to help.”

Your heart jumps into your throat as he gazes at you with so much love and mischief.

“What-”

“Shh, just let it happen, ok?”

He inches closer and you can barely breathe as you meet his gaze. He tilts his head slightly, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

And then, he closes the distance, his lips soft and warm against yours. The kiss is gentle at first, so warm and soft, but then he leans in a little closer, his hand moving to the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss. Your heart is racing so fast you’re sure he can hear it.

This is real. This is actually real. You’re kissing Felix - your best friend, your almost-husband. And it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

When he finally pulls back, he’s smiling.

“Well,” he says, sounding a bit breathless, “consider that practice round one.”

You can’t help but laugh. He gives you one more soft, lingering kiss, and you feel a strange mix of excitement and calm wash over you.

“Tomorrow’s going to be perfect,” he whispers, his lips touching your forehead. “I promise.”

The wedding is a fairytale. A garden venue draped with twinkling fairy lights and flowers. But nothing compares to the way he gazes at you as you walk down the aisle, like he can’t believe this moment was real. The whole day is a dream - except when your mum cries and cries so hard, it makes you cry and it makes Felix cry.

Now, as the two of you step into your new apartment together, just you and him - you feel like your heart might just burst. You’re still in your wedding dress, the delicate lace and silk brushing against your skin as Felix closes the door behind you.

It's so silent and you can’t tell if the excitement or the nerves are stronger, but it feels like your skin is on fire.

Felix catches your gaze, that familiar smirk dancing on his lips, but the way he looks at you is so warm and soft. He takes your hand, leading you into your bedroom.

“Let's get you out of all this,” he murmurs, stepping closer.

You nod, more than happy to be free of it all. You watch him take off his coat, tossing it on the bed.

As you take off your earrings, you feel his hands move to your hair, slowly pulling out the pins that hold it in place, one by one. He’s silent, focused, his every touch so tender. Your hair falls loose, and he lets his fingers comb through it, smiling.

“You looked stunning today,” he says. “I really had to hold myself back so I don't embarrass myself in front of everyone.”

Your cheeks burn as you manage to giggle and say, “You’re such a flirt, Lixie.”

“Only for you, wifey.” His voice dips low, his fingers trailing down to the back of your neck.

Your hands are trembling slightly as he moves to the zipper of your dress, sliding it down slowly. The fabric loosens, and he eases the dress off your shoulders, letting it pool softly at your feet.

“Still nervous?” he whispers, his hands resting on your waist.

You swallow, nodding. “A little.”

“Hmm,” he hums, pressing a feather-light kiss to your collarbone. “Just be yourself, yeah? You're perfect.”

You bite your lip, the butterflies in your stomach going wild as he presses a kiss on your cheek, then one just below your jawline. Your hands grip at the fabric of his shirt, crumbling it under your fingers.

“Felix,” you whisper, feeling your face heat up as he teases a line of kisses down your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

And when he finally leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s so tender and achingly sweet, you put your arms around him, sinking into him.

The teasing glint in his eyes turns into something darker and he leans closer, his fingers brushing along your jaw.

"So, Mrs. Lee,” he murmurs, “How’s it feel to finally be mine?”