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wvyik · 3 days ago

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wrapped in ya’ d.w. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

dean winchester x fem! reader

summary; after a hunt, you slip into dean’s flannel, but when he sees you in it, the heat between you two ignites, and it quickly turns into something much more tempting.

warnings; mdni! smut, explicit content, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, steamy chemistry, oral sex, (both receiving) unprotected fun, fingering, heavy praise kink, use of pet names, light breeding kink (👀), dirty talk, safe word check-in, long ass descriptions, porn with some plot? pre-established relationship, flannel fueled chaos, too much heat— someone call the fire department.

notes; hiya lovelies!! okay so.. this one gets spicy real fast. gawd i feel so shy about posting smut bahaha. but i tried my best. i need some tips (pun intended) though! i adore reading ur comments guys, seriously. thank you so much for the support! <3

words; 5128

The night had been long, the hunt brutal, but now, back in the bunker, the weight of exhaustion had settled into your bones. But there was one thing that made everything a little better — Dean’s flannel, slung over the back of the couch. You didn’t think twice before pulling it on, the soft fabric engulfing you, his scent instantly wrapping around you.

You had a second of peace, just standing there, breathing him in, when you heard the unmistakable sound of Dean’s boots behind you. You turned slowly to see him standing in the doorway, eyes dark, smirk curling on his lips.

“Really?” His voice was thick with amusement, but there was a layer of something else beneath it, something hungry. “Stealing my clothes now, huh?”

You shrugged, crossing your arms over your chest, the oversized flannel making you feel like you were drowning in it— but it felt damn good. “It’s comfy,” you said, teasing him, but the heat in your gaze was unmistakable.

Dean’s eyes scanned you slowly, taking in every inch of the way the flannel hung off your body. He stepped forward, the air between you crackling with tension. “Comfy?” he repeated, voice dripping with sarcasm, but his eyes were anything but joking. “You look fucking irresistible in it.”

You bit your lip, feeling the heat rush through your veins at his words. You could feel the tension building between you, that magnetic pull you couldn’t fight.

“You gonna keep stealing my shirts now, sweetheart?” Dean said, his voice rough, low, sending shivers down your spine as his hand reached out to trail down your arm. “Or do I get to make you forget about it?”

You swallowed hard, looking up at him. “Maybe I like it. Maybe I like you seeing me in your clothes.”

Dean smirked, and before you could blink, he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you in so close that you could feel the heat of his body against yours. His lips were on yours before you could even react, hard and demanding. His hands slid under the flannel, grazing your skin, his fingers burning a trail up your sides.

You gasped into the kiss when his hands slid lower, cupping you through the fabric of your jeans, the heat between you two growing unbearable. His mouth moved to your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses as his hands began to work the buttons of your jeans.

“Dean,” you moaned softly, your hands pulling at his shirt, desperate for more contact, for more of him.

“Don’t say my name like that,” he muttered against your skin, his breath ragged. “You want me to fuck you right here, in my clothes?”

You felt your body tremble at the thought. His words, the way he was looking at you like he couldn’t wait to strip everything away, made you ache.

“Please,” you whispered, fingers tugging at his belt.

Dean growled, his hands gripping your hips as he lifted you effortlessly, pushing you up against the nearby wall, your legs wrapping around his waist. His mouth claimed yours again, with an unrelenting pace.

His eyes darkened, lips brushing against yours, "You're so damn perfect. You know that?"

You shivered at his words, the combination of his raw, dominant tone and the sweetness of his compliments sending a rush of heat through your body.

"De.." you murmured, hands slipping beneath his shirt to explore the muscles of his back, skin burning with every touch. "I need you so bad, please,"

Your touch sent a jolt of desire coursing through his veins, his breathing growing heavy as he ground against you, the hard length of him pressing against your hip, the friction driving him wild.

"You feel that?" he asked, his voice rough, "That's what you do to me, sweetheart."

You gasped softly, feeling the evidence of his arousal straining against his jeans, your body responding involuntarily, arching against him in search of more of that delicious friction.

"Bed?" you managed, the word barely a whisper. "Need you in a bed, not against a wall.."

The corners of his lips curled into a smirk at your desperate plea. He wanted you too, craved you like the air he breathed, but he loved teasing you, pushing you to the brink before giving in.

"Not yet," he murmured, his grip on you unrelenting. "We're not finished here."

He dipped his head, his mouth trailing a path down your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin, his hands roaming over your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

You writhed under his touch, your body alive with sensation, every nerve ending singing. "Dean, please," you whimpered, fingers clutching at his shoulders.

He savored the sound of your breathy pleas, relishing in the way you came undone beneath his touch. "I know, baby.. Love hearing you beg for me like that," he whispered against your skin, his voice roughened by arousal. “Enough of that, though. Get on your fuckin’ knees.”

Your knees almost gave way at the command, a sharp gasp slipping through your lips. "De—," you protested weakly, but there was no real resistance, just a trembling anticipation.

"Do as I say," he insisted, his grip unyielding as he guided you to the floor, your knees hitting the carpet with a soft thud. He stood above you, his eyes burning with intensity as you knelt before him, your face level with the obvious bulge in his jeans.

"Take my belt off," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your hands trembled as you reached for his leather belt, your fingertips brushing against the cool metal of the buckle. It took you a few attempts to undo it, your fingers clumsy with desire.

Once the belt was undone, he caught your wrist, his grip firm as he guided your hand to the zipper of his jeans. "Keep going, sweetheart."

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you unzipped his jeans, the sound of the zipper loud in the otherwise silent room, your fingertips brushing against the fabric of his boxers.

"Now... pull them down, slowly." His words were a command, a challenge, but beneath the dominance, there was an underlying tenderness, a hint of vulnerability that only showed itself in moments like these.

You obeyed, your hands reaching for the waistband of his jeans, fingers trembling with anticipation as you shimmied them down his hips. The material was rough against your hands, and the sound of denim sliding over his muscular thighs sent a shiver down your spine.

He stepped out of his jeans, leaving him in nothing but a pair of black boxers, the fabric strained by his arousal. He looked down at you, his eyes roving over your body, taking in the way you knelt before him, soft and submissive, ready to do whatever he asked.

He reached down, cupping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His thumb traced your lower lip, his touch tender despite the commanding tone of his voice.

"You trust me, sweetheart?" he asked, his eyes searching yours, a hint of vulnerability in his expression.

"Yes," you whispered, the word escaping your lips without hesitation. You did trust him, implicitly. He had seen you at your most vulnerable, your darkest moments, and he had never once taken advantage of it. Instead, he had been your pillar of strength, your protector, your safe harbor in the storm.

His thumb continued tracing your lip, a gentle smile curving his mouth at your response. "Good girl," he murmured, the praise sending a jolt of desire through you, his approval filling you with warmth. “Now, open that pretty lil’ mouth for me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the simple command igniting a fire within you. Without hesitation, you parted your lips, your eyes locked on his as you waited for his next command.

His thumb slipped past your parted lips, tracing the outline of your tongue. “Suck it,” he demanded, his voice low and sensual.

You obeyed without hesitation, your tongue swirling around his thumb as you sucked it into your mouth. The action was both submissive and rebellious, your eyes defiant even as you yielded to his command.

Dean groaned, his eyes darkening as he watched you. "That's it," he said, his thumb withdrawing from your mouth with a wet pop. "Look so good on your knees for me, baby."

He threaded his fingers into your hair, his grip firm as he angled your head to look up at him. His eyes bore into yours, his expression a mix of tenderness and dominance.

"You know what I want, don't you?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You nodded, a wordless affirmation that you understood exactly what he was asking for. Your lips were parted, your breath coming in heavy pants, your body already trembling in anticipation.

He ran his hand over your hair, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the rough command. "Go on then, touch me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your hand trembled as you reached for him, your palm sliding over the rough cotton of his boxers, feeling the heat and hardness beneath. Your touch was tentative at first, but as you heard him draw in a sharp breath, your confidence began to grow.

His hand tensed in your hair as your touch grew bolder, your fingers tracing the outline of his arousal through the fabric. "Mmm... that's it," he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure, "Just like that, sweetheart."

Your hand cupped him more firmly, massaging him through the fabric until he was practically vibrating with need. "F-fuck... you're so good for me, aren't you darling?"

Your response was a strangled moan, your body responding to his praise like a flame to gasoline. You were on fire, consumed by a desperate need for him, the ache between your thighs growing with every passing moment. "Please," you gasped, looking up at him, your lips parted, your cheeks flushed. "Dean, please... I need you."

His jaw clenched at the view of you. It was a sight that never failed to get him going, his control almost at its limit. "Yeah? You need me that bad, huh?" he teased, his fingers tangling more tightly in your hair.

You nodded, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. "Yes," you breathed, your hand still massaging him through the fabric. "So bad, Dean. I need you. Please."

The desperate plea in your tone and the way you were touching him pushed him to the edge. He was already struggling to hold back, and the sight of you on your knees, begging for him, was almost too much.

"Then take what you want," he commanded, his voice a hoarse rasp, "Cmon, angel.. you know what to do."

Without hesitation, you reached for the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down with a swift motion, freeing him from the last barrier of fabric. You swallowed hard as you took him in, your hand wrapping around him, the weight and heat of him feeling like the missing piece to a puzzle you hadn't known was incomplete.

He let out a guttural groan as you touched him, your grip firm and sure, almost worshipful. "Fuck.. just like that, sweetheart," he gasped, his eyes closing for a fraction of second before refocusing on you, watching your every move. "You know how to drive me crazy.."

The praise from him sent a shiver down your spine, your body arching towards his, your hand moving in a steady rhythm. You loved the way you could make him lose control, the way he looked at you now, completely undone by your touch.

"Yeah, just like that.. just keep touching me, babe," he whispered, his hand tightening in your hair again, guiding your mouth towards him. "I need you, sweetheart. I need-"

You didn't hesitate, your tongue darting out to taste him, the saltiness of his skin making your head spin. He groaned, his breath hitching as he watched you, his grip on your hair becoming almost painful. "You're perfect.. so damn perfect..," he murmured, his words interspersed with ragged breaths. "Just like that.. don't stop, sweetheart.. please don't stop.."

You quickened your pace, your tongue swirling and tasting, desperate to drive him over the edge. You wanted to give him everything he needed, to show him just how much you wanted him.

"Oh, I'm close... keep goin.." he gasped, his hips canting forward automatically, seeking more of the pleasure you were giving him. "Just a little bit more, sweetheart.. you're so good.. so perfect.. I'm gonna-"

You knew he was close, you could feel it in the way his body tensed, the way his breath came in ragged gasps. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his gaze, and that was it.

His release was sudden, his body shaking with the intensity of it, a hoarse cry passing his lips. He held on to you tightly, the grip on your hair probably painful, but you didn't care. You loved seeing him lose control, the way his face showed every emotion, the way he let himself be vulnerable around you.

He panted heavily, his chest rising and falling, his eyes dark and satisfied as he looked down at you. "Goddamn, sweetheart," he muttered, his voice still thick with arousal. “Think you—fuck—think you might need a reward for that, huh?”

A mixture of pride and exhaustion filled you as he spoke. You were trembling, your body almost as spent as his from the intensity of your actions. But the thought of a reward made your eyes gleam. "A-a reward?.." you asked, the word almost a purr.

He chuckled, the sound deep and rough. "Yeah, sweetheart, a reward," he confirmed, his hand moving from your hair to your face, his thumb tracing the lines of your face. "You did so good.. you deserve something special."

His touch was gentle, tender even, a stark contrast to the dominating way he had been moments ago. It always surprised you how he could switch between the two, one moment being demanding, the next tender. But that was just who he was. A man of contrasts.

Dean helped you up, steadying you on your shaky legs before leading you over to the bed. He sat you down on the edge, pulling you onto your back, your legs in between him. He held you close, his arms wrapping around you with a possessiveness that was both comforting and arousing.

He kissed you, slow and deep, his tongue moving against yours, tasting and exploring. It was a gentle, almost loving kind of kiss, one that belied the intensity of the moment. He pulled away after a few seconds, his gaze roaming over your body hungrily.

"I could ravish you right now," he murmured, his hand roaming over your body, "But I don't want to rush this.. I want to take my time with you, baby. I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel."

Your breath hitched at his words, anticipation building in your chest. You knew he meant every word, and the thought of what was to come made your body tingle. "I want that too," you whispered, your hands coming up to toy with his hair. "I want you, Dean. All of you…"

He smiled at your words, his fingers tracing patterns over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps. "And you'll have me, sweetheart," he promised, his tone confident. "Every part of me.. yours to do with as you please."

He leaned down, pressing a trail of kisses down your neck, his stubble scraping against your skin. Each touch was slow and deliberate, as if he was mapping out every inch of you. His hand slid up your side, his fingers playing lightly at the hem of your shirt before tugging it up, slowly baring more of your flesh to him.

He pulled the shirt over your head, tossing it aside before leaning back to look at you. He took his time, his eyes roaming over your body, drinking in every detail. "So damn gorgeous," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "I never get tired of looking at you."

His hands began to wander again, exploring territory that was both familiar and exciting. He traced your collarbone, his thumb gently brushing over the sensitive area, before moving down to your breasts. His touch was light, teasing, his eyes fixated on your face to gauge your reaction.

You gasped as his thumb brushed over your nipples, the fabric of your bra the only barrier between you. He smirked, noticing your reaction, and did it again, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through you. "Mmm... so sensitive already." he murmured, his voice low and teasing. He let his fingers go down your back, undoing your bra with skill.

Your breathing hitched, your body arching involuntarily under his touch. His words, combined with the sensations he was eliciting in you, were almost too much to handle. "Dean.. please.." you gasped, your body craving more of his touch, more of him.

He smirked at your plea, his hand tracing down over your stomach, stopping just above the waistband of your shorts. "What do you want, darlin’? Use your words," he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You swallowed hard, your mind fuzzy with desire. "More.." you managed to gasp out, your hips lifting slightly in a desperate attempt to get more of the contact you craved. "Please, more.. I need more.."

He chuckled at your desperate tone, amused and turned on by the effect he had on you. "Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" he murmured, his fingers still teasing at the edge of your shorts. "I love how impatient you get for me, sweetheart.. it's almost endearing."

He leaned down again, his mouth finding a sensitive spot on your neck, his teeth nipping gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. His hand was more demanding now, his fingers slipping down the fabric of your shorts, now dancing along the edge of your underwear.

Your body was on fire, your skin overly sensitive to every touch and kiss. You whimpered, your thighs clenching as his hand continued to tease you. "Please.. I can't take much more of this," you gasped, your hands gripping at the sheets beneath you.

"You can take it," he murmured, his mouth trailing down to your chest, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. "I know you can, sweetheart. And don't worry, you'll get everything you want in just a minute.. if you behave."

You knew exactly what he meant by behaving. You'd be obeying him tonight, and he was reminding you of that fact. You shivered beneath him, the anticipation building. "I'll be good," you promised, your voice almost a whine. "I'll be so good for you, just.. please, Dean."

His hand moved lower, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your underwear, teasing the sensitive flesh there. "Fuck," he murmured, his eyes glued to your face. "So wet for me. You got that wet just by sucking my cock?.."

You couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips, the sound almost embarrassing in its neediness. "Yes," you admitted, "Just from that. Just from you."

He groaned in approval, his fingers moving gently over you. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmured, "That's my good girl. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

You nodded, your body shaking as his touch became more demanding. "I—I just wanted to make you feel good," you managed to gasp out, your hips lifting slightly in time with his movements.

"Oh, you did," he murmured, his voice rough with arousal. "You made me feel so good, sweetheart. But now it's my turn to return the favor..."

His mouth moved down your body, his teeth scraping against your skin, his tongue trailing a wet path towards your thighs. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire, a smirk on his lips. "You want me to take care of you, sweetheart? Want me to taste you like you tasted me?"

You nodded fervently, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts. "Yes," you gasped, the word almost a sob. "Please, please, I need you, Dean."

He chuckled, the sound low and dark. "That's what I wanted to hear," he murmured, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading you open before him. "Just relax, princess. I'm gonna make you feel so damn good."

His tongue was hot on you, his touch firm and sure. He tasted and teased, his mouth working you into a frenzy. It was almost overwhelming, the way he knew all your sensitive spots, the way he knew exactly how to touch you to drive you wild. You writhed beneath him, his finger curled up in you.

"So damn sensitive.." he murmured, his mouth moving against you, his words sending vibrations through your body. "You're so damn reactive to everything I do to you, sweetness.. it's so goddamn hot.. I could do this all night.. I could do this until you're a shaking, sobbing mess beneath me.. begging me for more..."

You were close, your body tensing, the coil inside you ready to snap. "Dean-please—" you gasped, your back arching off the bed, "I'm--oh God, I'm so close-just-just a little bit more—"

His tongue flicked over you, his pace picking up, his fingers digging into your thighs. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmured, "Cum for me. I want to hear you say my name, I want to feel you let go for me.."

And with his last words, you shattered, crying out his name as pleasure crested over you. You shook, your body arching, your hands gripping the sheets tightly. The intensity of it was mind numbing, the sensation washing over you.

He didn't stop, his mouth working you through it, prolonging the sensation. You moaned, your body trembling, your senses overwhelmed. It was too much, yet somehow not enough. You clutched at him, your hands running through his hair, needing something to ground you.

Finally, he pulled away, his mouth trailing kisses up your body as he moved back up to your face. He looked at you, his eyes dark, his expression satisfied. "You're incredible, baby," he murmured, kissing you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

You tasted yourself on his lips, the realization making you shiver. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, your body still humming with aftershocks of pleasure. "That was.. that was amazing," you managed to gasp out, your voice hoarse from screaming his name.

He smirked at that, his ego clearly boosted by your words. "Damn right, it was," he said, pride evident in his tone. He ran a hand through your hair, his touch surprisingly tender. "And we're far from done."

Your eyes widened at his words. Far from done? You weren't sure you would be able to handle much more, but the heat in his gaze told you that you didn't have a choice. You swallowed hard, your body already responding to his touch.

He chuckled at your expression, his hand rubbing small circles on your thigh. "You look like a deer caught in headlights, sweetheart," he teased, his smirk growing. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you. I just need you to do one thing for me."

You nodded, your body already responding to his command. "Anything," you replied breathless.

He leaned in, his mouth close to your ear, his tone dropping. "Beg for me, doll. I want you to beg me to fuck you."

Your cheeks flushed, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. "Please," you whispered, your eyes meeting his. "Please, Dean, I need you to—" you stopped, the words almost stuck in your throat.

He chuckled, his hand moving lower, his touch teasing. "Come on, sweetheart, you can do better than that," he encouraged, his eyes dark and demanding. "I know you want it. I know you want me. Just let yourself say it. Beg for it."

You felt a thrill run through you, the combination of his words and his touch pushing you over the edge. "Please," you whispered, "Please Dean, please - I need you. I need you inside me. I need you to take me, to make me yours. Please, please, please just—just—" you couldn't finish, your words strangled by your own need

His lips crushed yours, silencing your words with a bruising kiss. "That's what I wanted to hear, pretty girl," he murmured against your mouth, "Fucking hell, you know how to get me worked up."

He pulled back, his eyes roaming over your body, his expression hungry. "Now, let's see how much more you can take."

With that, he steadied himself against you, slowly teasing his hard arousal against your wetness. You gasped, the sudden movement catching you off guard.

"You good, sweetheart?" he murmured, his voice low. "Color check."

You took a deep breath, your mind still fuzzy with desire. "Green," you managed to gasp, your body begging for more.

He smiled, satisfied with your answer. "Good girl," he said, his hands gripping your thighs, he lifted your legs up over his shoulders. "Just relax, angel. I'm gonna take good care of you."

He leaned down, his mouth finding a sensitive spot on your neck. As he sucked and nipped at the skin there, slowly, agonizingly slow he pushed into you. Your head fell back against the bed, a low moan escaping your lips.

You could feel every inch, your body stretching and adjusting to him. He filled you completely, the friction sending sparks of pleasure down your spine. You gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. "Dean, please..," you whimpered.

"Please what, sweetheart?" He murmured against your skin, his voice hoarse with need. "You know you have to use your words."

"Move," you gasped, your body shaking with need. "Please, just.. just move. I need you to move."

He chuckled, the sound a mix of amusement and arousal. "Bossy, are we?" he teased. But there was a hint of satisfaction in his tone. He pulled back slightly, before slowly pushing back in. "Like this, baby?"

You gasped, your back arching against the sheets. "Yes," you managed to gasp, "Just like that, yes. Please, more."

He set a steady rhythm, his movements deep and sure. He knew exactly how to touch you, where to touch you, which spots made you shudder, which made you moan. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. "So damn tight," he groaned, his breath ragged. "You feel so fuckin’ amazing.”

His words, combined with the sensations he was eliciting, were almost too much. You were quickly unraveling beneath him, your body aflame with pleasure. You pulled him closer, your hands tangling in his hair, needing something to ground you.

"Look at you, sweetheart," he murmured, his mouth finding your ear. "You're so damn perfect like this. All needy and desperate for me."

His words sent a thrill down your spine, his tone filled with hunger. You could feel him everywhere, his body pressed against yours, his scent surrounding you. It was all too much and not enough. "Don't stop," you gasped, "Don't-ah - don't stop, please, f-faster."

He groaned at your words, his movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. He was losing control, his grip on you tightening. "You— you feel so damn good," he gasped, his forehead resting on your shoulder. "I'm not gonna last much longer angel, you're driving me insane."

You were close, the coils inside you about to snap. You needed more, you needed it to last just a bit longer, even though you didn't know if you could take it. But Dean knew what you needed, he was always so in sync with your body.

"Cum for me one more time sweetheart," he murmured in your ear, his voice rough and commanding. "I want to feel you come all over me. I want to hear you say my name. Just let go for me, my beautiful girl."

And with his words, you were lost, your body seizing as pleasure washed over you. You gasped, your hands clutching at him, his name a strangled cry.

Dean felt you tighten around him, and it was too much, he bit down on your shoulder, his own release hitting him like a wave. He shuddered, his body tensing, his fingers digging into your flesh. "Fuck," he groaned, his voice hoarse. "Sweetheart, you're gonna make me cum again, ‘gonna cum all in you.”

It was then you felt it. He slowed, stilling, his body shaking slightly. He looked at you, his expression a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion. "That.. that was…" he trailed off, his voice slightly raspy.

The room is still thick with heat, your body boneless against the mattress, breath coming in slow, uneven pulls. The last echoes of your moans still hang in the air, mixing with Dean’s heavy exhales as he finally— finally—collapses beside you.

For a moment, neither of you move. His arm is still hooked around your waist, his grip loose now, but his fingers are still there, brushing over your skin like he’s making sure you’re real. Like he’s not ready to let you go yet.

Then, in that low, raspy voice that makes your stomach flip, he murmurs, “You good, babe?”

You make a sound— half a hum, half a sigh— and barely manage to nod. That seems to be enough for him. He chuckles, voice still rough around the edges, and leans in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your temple. “Yeah, I gotcha. Just breathe for me, baby.”

His hands move without thinking, smoothing over your back, tracing lazy circles into your skin, as if mapping out every place he touched, every mark he left. When his fingers ghost over a spot he might’ve grabbed too hard, he tuts under his breath. “Shit, hope I didn’t go too hard on you.” His lips follow where his hands were, warm and soft against your shoulder. “Might owe you a damn back rub after that one.”

Eventually, he grumbles and pulls away— just for a second—to grab the water bottle from the nightstand. He presses it into your hand, watching you with that lazy, smitten smile as you take a few slow sips. “There we go,” he murmurs, brushing a few damp strands of hair from your face.

And then, without another word, he tugs you against his chest, settling you into the warmth of his body like you belong there. Like he needs you there.

His breath is warm against your hair as he mumbles, half-asleep already, “M’not moving. You’re stuck with me, sweetheart.”

So much for stealing a fucking flannel.

taglist; @lieutenantchaos @bejeweledinterludes ⊹ ࣪ ˖

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#༊*·˚ wvyik #sofia writes ✎#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester #spn fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader smut #jensen ackles x reader #jensen fucking ackles #dean x you

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monstersflashlight · 3 days ago

Text

Commission for anon

A/N: This is very niche kink, and I regret nothing. It’s okay to pass this one if you don’t think this is your jam, but you never know when you are going to unlock a new kink...

Cow cosplay

Minotaur (Ambrose) x chubby fem!reader || hucow fantasy, kink discovery, degradation (lowkey), overstimulation, dirty talk, breeding

It all started as a joke.

You were watching a movie and he was jokingly teasing your nipples, making you giggle as he latched onto one of them as he pinched the other. You moaned between laughs, his fingers tickling your side. He was sucking so hard your panties were about to melt, but the amusement was in the air, so you didn’t think twice before joking about it.

“Ambrose, if you keep sucking like that, milk is going to come out.” The second the words were out of your mouth, he stopped. Completely. It was like he froze in place. You looked down and saw him carefully releasing your nipple, looking up at you with confusion. “What? What happened?” He was almost pale, like deer caught in headlights.

He looked away from you, putting your shirt down and staring at the TV, his head clearly very far away. “Nothing. Nothing… Let’s continue, you wanted to watch this movie.” His excuses were flimsy at best, and you started to feel worried that you said something wrong, your brain already spiraling.

“Are you okay?” You asked, anxiety raising inside your chest.

He turned to look at you and smiled softly, kissing your forehead. “Yes, yeah. I’m fine.” It made you feel better, but you still didn’t think he was telling the whole truth.

It took you three days to understand what made him react like that. He… He liked it. He liked that you said that. He liked the idea of him milking you. Of drinking your milk… Oh. Now so much more made sense. How he reacted when you first suggested getting a cow printed bikini, how he almost giggled and blushed when you wore those cow ears back during Halloween…

He had been into that all along, and you didn’t know.

You weren’t even sure he knew before that day. You discovered him a new kink! You tried not too be too smug about it, but you couldn’t stop the smile spreading through your face, a new idea already forming.

You walked back into your room, trying not to step in any cat toys that the kittens had left around (which they usually did), and picked the bikini and a tiny apron you bought for… reasons. You tried them on and twirled a bit in front of the mirror, feeling yourself. And then you dig the cow ear headband from the bottom of your drawer, completing the look and making your inside twist in anticipation.

He was so going to love it.

You were pacing in the room, moving up and down trying to burn some of the anticipation inside of you. You even played with yourself for a bit, but decided against continuing on that path because you wanted Ambrose to be there to play with you.

So when you heard him opening the door and calling out for you, your heart skipped a beat. “Sunshine? Where are you?”

“In the room!” You screamed, trying not to let your nervousness and anticipation make your voice waver.

He walked into the room and stared at you with an open mouth. Literally open mouth. He was looking up and down your body over and over, like he was scanning every inch available to his eyes until he took his fill. But he wasn’t saying anything. He was staring, and staring, and staring… Until you started to fidget with the hem of your apron, self-conscious.

“I- I thought… I know you have a hucow kink and I thought we could explore it? You don’t like it?” You asked in a low tone, cursing yourself internally.

“What? Fuck. You look… Fuck. You look good enough to eat, sunshine. Fuck.” You giggled, reassured he not only liked your gift but he was cursing more than normal. More cursing meant he was less in control, and less in control always meant you were on for a great time.

He walked to you like a monster on a mission, stopping mere inches away from your body, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his skin. You were shivering on your feet, so ready to be debauched that you didn’t know how to act anymore.

But then he started talking and everything in your brain flew away. “You want to be my personal hucow? Is that it? Do you want to be my human pet and let me milk your precious tits until you are dry?” You whimpered pathetically, his hands finding your boobs and tearing the fabric over them. “Would you let me do that, sunshine? Would you let me suck your tits until they are leaking and then fuck you until you are so full of my come your stomach gets distended?” You groaned at the mental image he created.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Please, Ambrose… Yes to all that.” As soon as your consent was there, he was lowering his body until he was on his knees in front of you, his head at tit level as he started to suck you like you were indeed going to produce milk if he sucked hard enough.

You threw your head back, screaming his name as your legs trembled under you. He pulled you up, throwing you on the bed and following shortly behind, not bothering taking off his clothes, his sole focus were your boobs.

“I’m going to make you produce milk. I’m going to make you my hucow,” he kept mumbling.

He kept sucking your nipples, playing with the barbells like his life depended on it. Your whole body was reacting to his ministrations, you felt like every cell in your body was attuned with his tongue on your boobs, his fingers pinching your free nipple until you were nothing but a mess of desperation and panting as he rutted his dick over your still clothed pussy.

You couldn’t stop begging, the combined sensation of his fingers and his mouth was the best kind of edging and you needed him. You needed him ASAP. “Please Ambrose. Pleaseeeeee. Fill me. I need you, please. I need you deep inside. Fuck your hucow, please.” The second the word hucow was out of your mouth, he was grunting like a desperate monster, pushing his hips into yours like he was about to burst his pants with the force of it.

He fumbled with his pants, ripping the fabric in half as he pushes your panties to the side…

And he was fully inside.

The spark of pain was nothing compared with the incredible pleasure that filled your senses as he rutted into you. You’d never heard him being that quiet during sex, he was always talking, always teasing, but it felt like he was more feral than ever. His thrusts were uncoordinated, and he kept grunting and moaning against your boobs, biting and sucking on your nipples, driving you insane with each pull.

It was like you were nothing but a toy, it was like he was using you like his personal hucow for real, and that drove you into a new dimension of pleasure. It felt degrading in the best way possible, degrading in a way that nothing ever felt before. Not even his words when he called you a whore or a slut, not even when he treated you like a pet and made you pee yourself…

Him holding onto you as he sucked your tits and rutted into your welcoming heat like you were nothing but a cow was making your insides twist and turn, your brain short circuiting as your orgasm washed over you in a tidal wave that crashed onto your body until you were gasping for breath and screaming his name in the middle of it.

But he kept sucking, fucking in and out your pussy and not even caring that he wasn’t touching your clit. He was in another dimension completely, caring only about himself and his desires, using your body to fulfill his own fantasies. And it was driving you insane.

As insane as it felt his dick inside of you, rubbing against your G-spot as he pinched your nipple and sucked on the other, the combination of all sensations sending you into overstimulation, and short after into another orgasm that left your body shivering as he pulled away for long enough to scream your name as he spilled inside of you until you felt so full you could burst.

He pulled out and you felt the gush of come leaving your body, but short seconds later he was pushing back inside, his dick half hard as he latched onto your nipple once again. It was too much and not enough at the same time. It was exhilarating and maddening, and you loved it. You loved to be what he needed, you loved to be his hucow or his flashlight or whatever he wanted you to be.

By the time he got tired of filling you up and sucking your nipples, you felt sore all over, your body too tired after too many orgasms. You were breathless, trying to regain your normal heartbeat as he grunted and nuzzled your boobs.

“I love you more than life itself,” he whispered against your boobs, kissing your sore nipples until you were whimpering and trying to get away, just to draw you closer and suck on them again.

If he kept that up his fantasy might become reality...

388 notes · View notes

puppym3 · 1 day ago

Text

felix x reader ─── third times the charm

synopsis - after a tension-filled series of rounds of a game as innocent as mario kart, you find yourself in his room again. while the both of you admit it's wrong to want to keep this going, it feels too good to stop.

wc: 10.6k

silly tags: MDNI! 18+, bsf!felix, afab!reader, definitely mutual pining., angst, fluff, they're both idiots, reader is an overthinker, also incredibly horny (they both are), felix knows he's hot, confident felix, a lot of tension, banter with other members, jeongin is clueless, pt 1 -> here, pt 2 -> here

MDNI!! smut warnings under cut!!

WARNINGS: smut (obv), multiple orgasms (f + m rec), felix is an experienced pussy eater, munch felix, fingering (f rec), hair pulling, thigh fucking

The decision had been unanimous.

Game night was happening, no excuses. The guys had declared it a celebration for you finally “getting better,” though you were pretty sure they just wanted an excuse to go all out before their schedules became too hectic. They had a full week ahead, packed to the brim with rehearsals, recordings, and commitments.

And you, well, you had spent the entire day inside your own head.

No matter how hard you tried to distract yourself, your thoughts kept circling back to Felix.

It wasn’t even a question anymore, you liked him. You had figured that much out, though the realization had done nothing to help the growing ache inside you. Because liking him didn’t mean he liked you back. Not in the same way.

Sure, it wasn’t normal to make out with your friends. It wasn’t normal to touch them the way you had. It wasn’t normal to watch them come apart under your hands, gasping and trembling and so devastatingly beautiful that the memory alone had you pressing your thighs together all over again.

But Felix had said it himself.

Just once. (Two times...)

Like it was something to be forgotten. Like it was something that shouldn’t have meant anything.

And if he didn’t want it to mean anything, then… what did that make us?

The thought made your stomach twist, doubt creeping in like an unwelcome whisper. Had you crossed a line? Had you pushed too far, let your selfish desires take precedence over his comfort?

You hadn’t asked. Not really. You had just… reacted, lost in the heat of the moment, swept up in the way he had looked at you, the way he had sounded, breathless and desperate, breaking apart under your touch.

Had you misread him? Had he only gone along with it because you had pushed?

The thought made your chest tighten painfully.

But then you remembered his words.

"you won’t run away after?"

He had asked you that. If he had felt uncomfortable, he would’ve told you. Right?

And yet, knowing that didn’t stop the weight pressing down on your chest, didn’t stop the anxious knot forming in your stomach as you lay curled up in bed, staring at the ceiling.

You wanted to see him.

Not just because you were still pent up, still aching from earlier, but because the idea of avoiding him, of really avoiding him, made you feel like you were drowning.

You couldn’t run, And you didn’t want to.

But at the same time, the idea of going up to him, of acting normal, felt impossible. You had no idea what to say, how to look at him without giving yourself away. What if you made things even weirder? What if-

A sudden knock on your door snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts.

"Yah, you better not be bailing on game night," Jisung’s voice rang out, muffled through the wood. "We already decided. If you’re in there with another mystery illness, I will drag you out myself."

You groaned, rubbing your hands over your face. Of course he wasn’t going to let you off the hook that easily.

Another voice chimed in, Changbin this time. "Are you scared I'm going to kick your butt?"

"Nobody is scared of that," Jeongin added, amusement lacing his voice. "Nobody."

There was a murmur of agreement from the others, and you could practically hear Changbin's expression behind the door.

You sighed, forcing yourself to sit up.

You couldn't stay in here all night. No matter what you felt, no matter what had happened between you and Felix, the guys deserved better than that. And it's not like you were going to be alone with Felix anyways. There would be no way to even have that talk until much, much later.

Besides, it had been a while since you'd seen the other members, let alone interacted with them in a relaxed way like this.

So you steeled yourself, pushing your anxieties and worries aside for the moment, and made your way to the door, opening it with a smile that felt almost natural.

"I'm here," you announced, giving a little mock bow.

Jisung crossed his arms, looking you up and down with mock suspicion. "Took you long enough. We almost resorted to breaking your door down."

Minho scoffed. "I was just gonna let them rot in there."

You rolled your eyes, lips twitching despite yourself. "You should've let me, what game are we playing?"

"We’ve got a lineup," Hyunjin said, slinging an arm around your shoulder as he steered you toward the living room. "Some Mario Kart, some Uno, maybe something else. It’s gonna be a bloodbath."

You let them guide you into the space where everyone was already sprawled out on the couches and floor, setting up the Switch and shuffling through stacks of games.

And then your gaze landed on him.

Felix was sitting cross-legged on the floor, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a controller already in hand. He looked up at the exact moment you did, his eyes meeting yours.

Your breath caught, heat creeping up your neck, and suddenly it was like your body remembered everything from earlier. The way he had shuddered under you, the way he had looked at you, pupils blown wide, lips parted, voice wrecked-

You tore your gaze away, forcing yourself to focus on anything else. The couch. The snacks. The ridiculous arguments already breaking out between Seungmin and I.N over who was sitting where.

Act normal.

"Hey," Felix’s voice was softer than the others, quiet enough that it was meant just for you.

You swallowed, forcing a small smile as you moved to sit down near him, keeping a careful amount of space between you. "Hey."

A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes before he turned back to the game screen, adjusting his grip on the controller.

You clenched your hands together in your lap, pressing your thighs together, willing yourself to not think about how close he was.

Jisung plopped down next to you, completely oblivious to the way your entire body was warring with itself. "Alright, losers. No mercy."

You rolled your eyes, forcing yourself to focus. It’s just a game. You’ve played this a million times. Just concentrate.

The race countdown began, the screen lighting up as the first match of Mario Kart kicked off. You gripped your controller, determined to shake off whatever ridiculous spell Felix had on you.

And then you made the mistake of glancing at him again.

His hands moved with expert precision, veins on his forearms prominent as he worked the controller effortlessly. His fingers; a little shorter but beautiful, dexterous- flicked over the buttons with ease, thumb pressing down hard on the joystick as he maneuvered his kart. You swallowed, watching how they twitched with each slight movement, how fast they were-

You nearly missed the start. Your character jerked forward awkwardly while everyone else sped ahead.

"Yahh," Jisung laughed, bumping his shoulder into yours. "You know you have to move, right?"

"I- I was," you said quickly, adjusting your grip. "Just had a bad start."

Felix, still focused on the game, didn’t look at you. But he smirked. He fucking smirked.

Your stomach clenched.

You tried to focus, tried to shake it off, but then his tongue darted out, wetting his lips before catching the bottom one between his teeth. And god, it was such a casual thing, something so innocent, but why did it make your breath hitch? Why was your brain suddenly short-circuiting over something so simple?

You had barely recovered from that when Seungmin’s kart sent Felix spinning off-course, and he let out a low groan, deep and annoyed, his jaw clenching as his tongue pressed into his cheek.

Oh.

Oh, that was so fucking hot, and unfair.

Heat rushed through you, making your grip on the controller falter. Your entire body felt tight, restless. The way he shifted slightly, adjusting his position with that focused expression, the way his sleeves bunched at his elbows, exposing more of his forearms-

You missed a turn entirely.

Your kart slammed straight into a wall.

"Wow," Changbin snorted. "Did being sick mess up your eyesight?"

You cleared your throat, trying to recover. "No! no, I'm just- just warming up."

"Sure you are," Jisung teased.

Felix still didn’t say anything, but you swore you saw his fingers tighten on his controller for a fraction of a second.

You sucked in a deep breath and tried to focus, tried to play like you normally would, but it was impossible.

Every time Felix reacted- whether it was a sharp inhale when someone overtook him or the way his knee bounced impatiently when he was trailing behind- it got to you.

By the time the race ended, you blinked at the results in horror.

Dead last.

Even the bots had beaten you.

There was a beat of silence before a chorus of laughter erupted around you.

"Wait, what?" Jisung wheezed. "How does that happen?"

"That’s never happened before," Hyunjin added, frowning at you. "Aren’t you usually, like… stupidly good at this game?"

Felix finally turned his head to look at you.

And the moment his gaze met yours, it was over.

His eyes held something unreadable, something amused yet dark, something that made your stomach do a full flip. His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but he didn’t.

He didn’t have to.

Because the way he looked at you, the way his gaze flickered just slightly down before returning to yours, the way his fingers twitched against the controller, said everything.

He knew.

You felt heat flood your face, your entire body suddenly feeling too warm.

You ripped your gaze away. "I- I wasn’t focusing."

"Yeah, no shit," Jisung laughed.

"Rematch," you blurted out, gripping your controller so hard your knuckles ached. "We’re doing a rematch."

Felix finally smirked. Not the small, teasing kind he had given before.

No, this one was deeper. Slower.

Like he was enjoying watching you squirm.

"Whatever you say," he murmured, voice just low enough for only you to hear.

And fuck.

You were in so much trouble.

You clenched your thighs together, your entire body coiled so tightly you felt like you might explode at any moment. You needed a distraction. Actually- nevermind, you could use less distractions.

The rematch started, and this time, you were determined to win.

Felix had gotten under your skin, but two could play at this game. If he wanted to tease you, if he wanted to smirk at you like that, look at you like that, then fine. You’d give him something to react to, too.

As soon as the race began, you leaned forward slightly, getting into it, letting your knee press against his. It was subtle, barely there, but you knew he felt it.

His fingers twitched.

You pushed forward, knocking him slightly off-course, earning a sharp inhale from him as his kart swerved.

"Playing dirty?" he murmured, not taking his eyes off the screen.

You tilted your head innocently. "What, me?"

He huffed out something close to a laugh, shaking his head.

The game quickly turned into a war between just the two of you. The others were playing, sure, but it didn’t matter. It was you versus him. Every drift, every shortcut, every item thrown, it was all just to one-up each other.

When he overtook you, you let out a quiet, breathy whine of frustration, just loud enough for only him to hear.

His fingers twitched again.

You smirked.

"Oh my god, what's gotten into you?" Jisung commented, watching the way you two were completely locked in, ignoring everything else.

Felix’s knee bumped yours this time, just slightly, just enough to throw you off for a split second, and suddenly, he was in first.

You bit your lip, gripping your controller tighter.

He hummed, low and knowing, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

The final lap was chaos. Items flying, turns taken too sharply, both of you trying to psych each other out. But then-

Felix suddenly reached for the hem of his shirt, lifting it to wipe at his face, revealing the sharp cut of his stomach, the defined lines leading down beneath the waistband of his sweats.

And your brain broke.

Your fingers fumbled. Your character swerved.

His smirk was immediate.

"You’re kidding me," you hissed, barely managing to get back on track.

"Something wrong?" he asked, voice too smooth, too smug.

You gritted your teeth, forcing yourself to focus. But it was too late.

Felix crossed the finish line first.

You, just barely, came in second.

A chorus of reactions erupted around you, but you weren’t even listening.

Felix turned his head toward you, slow and deliberate, eyes still dark with amusement.

You could not do this right now.

"I need water," you blurted out, practically throwing your controller onto the couch as you stood.

Felix didn’t stop you. He didn’t have to.

Because you felt his eyes on you the entire way to the kitchen.

You sucked in a deep, steadying breath, filling up a glass of water with tap water to give yourself something to do. The cool liquid soothed the burning ache in your throat, the tight knot in your stomach finally unclenching slightly.

But you didn't miss it. The way he followed you, making his way casually toward you, leaning against the kitchen counter.

He was too close. Too close, too fucking hot, his sleeves still pushed up his forearms, the muscles tense and prominent under the smooth tan skin.

The way he was looking at you, fuck.

"Mm-" you cleared your throat, willing your voice to stay steady. "That was a close game." You said, deciding to not mention the amount of tension that was just previously between you two.

"It was." His voice was so smooth, so steady, so goddamn collected when all you felt was falling apart.

He shifted his stance, and fuck, his shirt shifted a bit with him. Just enough to reveal a hint of the v-line of his lower abdomen. You forced your gaze back to the glass of water. "Are we uh… playing Uno next?"

His gaze raked over you slowly, like he was savoring you, taking in every detail, every movement. "Are you still trying to avoid me?"

You almost choked, snapping your gaze to his. He didn't look angry or hurt. No. There was something else in his eyes. A sort of playfulness, something that made you swallow hard. "N- no, of course not."

Felix took a step closer.

Heat flashed through your body, a million responses flickering through your mind. A part of you wanted to back down. To apologize for making him feel uncomfortable, for crossing the line. Another part of you wanted to grab him, to shove him up against the nearest surface and kiss him until his lips were swollen again, to not even care who heard, to show him how much you wanted him-

"Uno it is, then."

The night stretched on, the group dwindling as exhaustion set in. It was past 2 AM now, and the whining had reached its peak.

"Okay, I'm tapping out," Hyunjin groaned, dramatically flopping onto the couch before peeling himself up again. "I’m going to bed before I actually pass out here."

"You guys are weak," Jisung muttered, but even he sounded drowsy, rubbing at his eyes.

One by one, everyone started disappearing to their rooms, the energy in the room shifting from chaotic to something quieter, heavier.

And then, Felix caught your gaze.

It was quick, barely a flicker of a look, but you felt it everywhere. The way his lips barely curved at the corners, the way his head tilted ever so slightly toward the hallway.

Your stomach clenched.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to.

As the last of them retreated, the house fell silent. The kind of silence that made everything feel weightier, like the air itself had thickened.

You hesitated in your room for what felt like an eternity, your heart hammering in your chest.

With shaky fingers, you pushed open your door and stepped out, padding quietly down the hall in your pajamas.

When you reached his door, you hesitated, nerves tightening in your stomach. The hallway felt too quiet, the weight of your own anticipation pressing down on your chest. Your fingers hovered over the doorknob, your mind racing. Why did he call me here? What does he want?

But more than that, why did you want to find out so badly?

Taking a steadying breath, you gathered your courage and pushed the door open just enough to slip inside.

Felix was there, exactly where you'd imagined him, leaning back against his headboard, his legs stretched out comfortably, one hand resting lazily over his stomach while the other held his phone.

The second he saw you, he dropped it without a second thought, the soft thud against his blankets barely registering over the way his entire face shifted.

Slow. Almost shy. A smile spread across his lips, lighting up his features.

And goddamn it.

He looked so good. So effortlessly, unfairly good. His hair was slightly tousled, like he had been running his fingers through it absentmindedly. His hoodie was loose over his frame, draping in a way that made him look entirely too comfortable, like he belonged exactly here, like he had been waiting for you.

And then there was the way his fingers splayed across his stomach, his sweatshirt riding up just slightly, revealing a sliver of smooth skin.

You felt like melting straight into the floor.

Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to take a step closer before perching on the very edge of his bed, hands fisting into the hem of your pajama shirt to keep yourself from fidgeting.

"Why did you- why did you call me here?" Your voice came out softer than you intended, and you hated the way it betrayed you, revealing too much.

Felix exhaled a soft chuckle, shifting his weight as he turned more toward you. And then, like it was the easiest thing in the world, he reached out, the warmth of his palm pressing against your thigh.

Your heart stuttered.

A hot and unrelenting feeling sat inside of you, spreading from the point of contact and curling into your stomach.

"I just thought," he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over the fabric of your pajama pants, "since you... took care of me this morning, maybe I should repay you."

Something in your chest twisted.

The words themselves weren’t inherently bad. They weren’t cold. But the way he said them, too smooth, too casual, made something inside you crack.

Like this was nothing more than an obligation. Like the way you had touched him this morning, the way he had melted under your hands, had just been another favor to return.

Not because he wanted to.

Not because it meant anything to him.

You froze, the warmth in your stomach flipping into something heavier, something uncomfortable.

Felix must have sensed the shift immediately because his grip on your thigh loosened, the easy confidence on his face faltering as he tilted his head, brows pinching slightly in concern.

"Wait- hey, what’s wrong?" His voice softened, suddenly cautious.

You shook your head quickly, blinking against the sudden sting in your eyes. You hated how fast the emotions swelled inside you, how stupid you felt for thinking, for hoping, that maybe he wanted you.

That maybe he liked you.

"Felix," you exhaled, your voice barely holding steady. "You don’t have to do things like that just to pay me back."

His entire expression crumbled, guilt flashing across his features. "I didn’t mean-"

"You don’t owe me anything," you said, voice cracking as you suddenly pushed yourself to stand. "This was a mistake."

"Wait-"

Your breath hitched as his fingers curled gently around your wrist, not tight enough to trap you, just enough to make you stop. Enough to make you feel the warmth of his skin, the unspoken plea in his touch.

"Wait," he said again, even softer this time, like he was afraid the word might break if he said it too loudly.

You stood frozen, staring at the door in front of you, at the blurred outlines of your own reflection in the dark window beyond it. You willed yourself to take another step, to keep moving, to leave.

"I really do... want this."

The words barely reached you, so quiet they almost melted into the stillness of the room. But you heard them. Felt them. And they shattered something inside you.

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides, your throat tightening painfully as you let out a sharp, humorless breath.

"Don’t," you whispered.

Felix didn’t move, but you could feel the weight of his presence behind you, could hear his breath just as unsteady as yours.

"You really shouldn’t want this, Felix," you said, and this time, your voice broke. "Because this isn’t something best friends do."

Silence.

Then, before you could pull away, before you could do anything at all, his grip shifted, slow, careful, as he turned you just enough to slip his arms around you from behind.

Your entire body stiffened as the warmth of his chest pressed against your back, as his arms folded around you, holding you against him.

"I know," he murmured, voice thick with something you couldn’t name.

You should have pulled away.

Should have stepped out of his arms and walked out that door before this got even more tangled, even more painful.

But you didn’t.

Because even though you shouldn’t love the way he held you, shouldn’t love the way his warmth seeped into your skin, grounding you, calming you, you did.

Even though you shouldn’t love the way his breath tickled the back of your neck, the way he exhaled like he was relieved to be holding you, you did.

And suddenly, no matter how hard you fought it, no matter how much you tried to blink them back, the tears fell.

Your shoulders shook, a quiet sob breaking past your lips, and Felix tensed, his grip on you tightening just slightly.

"Shh," he comforted you, letting his hand rub comforting circles on you. "I’m sorry."

His voice wavered, and god, it only made you cry harder.

"It feels so wrong," he whispered, his arms tightening around you like he could hold you together, like he could keep you from unraveling. "But it's all I can think about."

You tried to stop it, but a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob broke from your mouth, and Felix froze.

"You don't have to say things like that," you sniffled, bringing your hands up to cover your face in embarrassment.

His grip shifted, just slightly, as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck, where his breath was previously fanning against. It made your breath hitch, your entire body shuddering at the feeling of his lips on you.

"You think I don't want to kiss you?" He asked, voice barely above a whisper. "That I haven't imagined what it would be like to touch you in the ways you've touched me?" He leaned back just enough for his fingers to reach yours, lacing together with your hand as he guided your fingers to your cheek. He was holding you, kissing you, yet his hands were shaky against your own. "Do you feel this?"

"Felix." His name left your mouth on an exhale, half a warning, half a plea.

"Do you?" He insisted.

Your chest ached with the weight of his words, the sheer desperation laced in his voice breaking something inside you. And suddenly, you couldn’t hold back anymore. You couldn’t stop yourself from turning into him, from slipping your fingers free of his and bringing both hands to his face, tilting his head just enough before you crashed your lips against his.

The second your mouths met, it was like everything inside you ignited at once. The tension, the longing, the days of unspoken desire roared to life, consuming you both. His grip tightened at your waist, his grip firm as he pulled you flush against him. The heat of his body pressed into yours, and the sheer force of it sent you stumbling back onto the bed, your pulse hammering in your ears.

Felix followed without hesitation, his hands bracing on either side of you as he hovered over you, his body caging yours in the best way possible. His lips were urgent, hungry, moving against yours like he was memorizing the shape of your mouth, like he couldn’t get enough. You gasped as his tongue flicked out to taste you, the slow, teasing slide of it making you shudder beneath him.

A low, needy sound rumbled in his throat when you ran your hands up his clothed torso, your hands resting on his shoulders and pulling him even closer. But it wasn’t enough. You needed more. Your hands slipped beneath the thick material, palms skimming over the lean muscles of his back, feeling the way his breath hitched at your touch.

Felix groaned into your mouth, the kiss breaking as he shifted to straddle you. You watched him for a beat, eyes taking him in.

He looked good enough to eat. His hoodie had bunched around his hips, the fabric barely clinging to him, his lower half exposed. Your gaze flicked down to the v-line of his abdomen before dropping to the visible tent in his boxers.

When you looked back up at his face, you found him already watching you, his cheeks flushed as his fingers gripped at the hem of his sweatshirt.

He didn't pull it off yet, his expression hesitant. Like he was afraid he might ruin something, that you might break beneath his touch. It was a stupid, irrational fear. You were already ruined, already broken. And all you wanted was for him to break you a little bit more.

"Please," you whispered, the last shred of your resolve fading.

The sound of your voice seemed to hit a part of his brain. His grip tightened on the hem before he finally lifted the garment over his head, his hair mussing just slightly, and god. He was even hotter shirtless than you imagined. He was all smooth lines and tan skin, toned yet soft.

All smooth, skin stretched over lean muscle, toned yet soft in a way that made your mouth go dry. Your hands moved on instinct, sliding up his torso, palms pressing into the warmth of his skin. He shivered under your touch, his stomach tensing as your fingers trailed along the ridges of his abdomen.

“You look so good,” you murmured, barely recognizing your own voice.

Felix exhaled a breathy laugh, but the sound was shaky, like he was nervous, like your words had done something to him. His hands found your wrists, guiding your palms higher, over his ribs, his chest, until your fingertips brushed over his collarbones. His heartbeat thrummed beneath your touch, quick and uneven, matching your own.

Your breath caught as Felix let your hands roam over his skin, his muscles twitching beneath your touch. But just as your fingers trailed back down, seeking the familiar heat of his stomach, tracing down his v-line, he suddenly caught your wrists, his grip firm yet gentle.

“Wait,” he whispered.

You blinked, your brows pulling together as you instinctively tried to tug your hands free. “Felix—”

His hold didn’t waver, but there was no force behind it, just hesitation. A soft flush crept up his neck, settling high on his cheeks, his lips parting like he was debating something, fighting with himself over whether or not to say it.

“I don’t… I don’t want to be the only one receiving anymore,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a breath. His fingers squeezed yours lightly, almost apologetic, almost embarrassed. “Not tonight.”

Something about the way he said it, so soft, so unguarded, made your heart stumble.

Your first instinct was to protest, because you loved watching him unravel under your touch, loved the way he shivered, the way his breath hitched, the way he melted when you traced your fingers over the sensitive planes of his body. You wanted more of it, you always did.

But before you could say anything, he glanced up at you through his lashes, his grip on your hands loosening, and whispered, “I want to touch you.”

Your stomach flipped.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. He must have mistaken your silence for reluctance, because he ducked his head slightly, his thumb brushing idly over your palm as he continued, quieter this time.

“If that’s okay,” he murmured, voice so gentle, so sweet, something about the tone of his voice made your heart ache.

You swallowed hard, your skin burning at the weight of his words.

Then, before you could find your voice, Felix shifted, sliding down. Your breath stilled as he settled onto his knees on the floor, looking up at you with his eyes that held something shy, something uncertain, but also something unmistakably wanting.

His fingers found your thighs, barely touching, just ghosting over the fabric of your pajama pants as he tested the waters. His hands were warm, his touch hesitant but deliberate, and when you didn’t pull away, he let his grip tighten just slightly, just enough to make your breath shudder out of you.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled you closer to the edge, his fingers flexing against your skin.

You could feel the heat radiating off him, could hear the unsteady rise and fall of his breathing as he stared up at you, waiting.

“You always take care of me,” he whispered, his voice almost pleading, his fingers squeezing ever so slightly at your thighs. “Let me take care of you.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs, your whole body thrumming with anticipation, with the sheer weight of his words.

And when he pressed his lips to the inside of your knee, just a soft, fleeting kiss, your resolve crumbled entirely.

You nodded, barely able to breathe, your pulse thrumming beneath your skin.

Felix hesitated for only a second, his fingers twitching slightly before they found your waist, warm and uncertain, like he was afraid to move too quickly. His touch was light, barely there, as his hands slid beneath your shirt, his fingertips grazing your ribs in a way that made you shiver. The anticipation, the slow, almost teasing pace, sent a wave of heat down your spine.

Your thighs tensed involuntarily, but you couldn’t close them, not with him kneeling between them, his presence impossible to ignore. The thought of what he might do, what you wanted him to do, burned through you, your breath catching as his hands moved higher.

His fingers traced the curves of your body like he was mapping them, committing every dip and rise to memory. And when he hesitantly skimmed over the swell of your breast, a sharp gasp escaped your lips before you could stop it.

Felix’s head snapped up. His breath hitched audibly, his cheeks flushed a deep, beautiful red. His gaze flickered between your face and where his palm now fully cupped you, his grip instinctively tightening before he gave the slightest squeeze. The reaction it pulled from you; your soft inhale, the way your head tipped back, made something shift in his expression.

You didn’t miss the way he squirmed slightly, his thighs clenching as though your reactions affected him as much as his touch affected you. But then his fingers left you, his warmth vanishing too soon, leaving your skin aching in its absence.

"You’re so beautiful," he whispered, almost like he was speaking to himself, his voice laced with something raw. His hands found the hem of your shirt, slowly pushing it up, revealing more of you to his hungry gaze. "So beautiful."

You wanted to argue, to hide, to cover yourself in embarrassment, but then his lips.

Soft. Gentle. Worshipping.

They pressed just below your navel, sending a tremor through you. His kisses were slow, unhurried, as though he wanted to savor every inch of you, his lips lingering, breathing you in. Every touch, every press of his mouth, was deliberate, and the way he moved, like he never wanted to stop, made your breath quicken, your fingers curling into the sheets.

Felix didn’t stop. He trailed lower, exhaling softly against your skin, his hands curling around your hips as he pressed his forehead there for just a second. As if grounding himself. As if overwhelmed by you.

Then his fingers dipped into the waistband of your pajama pants, testing. Seeking permission.

And when you gave him the smallest nod, he exhaled shakily, his grip tightening before he slowly, so torturously slowly, began to slide them down.

The seconds felt like hours. Like an eternity. You were exposed, vulnerable, and you could only watch as he pulled your pajama bottoms down your legs.

Then you were left in nothing but your underwear, and the reality of it all hit you at once.

Felix leaned back just slightly, his breath unsteady, his gaze trailing down your legs before lingering at the apex of your thighs. His eyes widened, his lips parting as if he’d forgotten how to breathe, and suddenly, the heat of his attention became too much.

You shifted instinctively, your thighs pressing together, a flush crawling up your skin. Embarrassment bloomed in your chest, the urge to cover yourself nearly overwhelming.

Felix must have sensed it because his gaze snapped up to yours, his expression softening. Without a word, he moved closer again, bracing one hand beside your hip as he pressed his lips to the inside of your thigh, gentle, warm, like he was easing you into this, like he was reminding you that you were safe with him.

Your breath hitched, and his free hand found your thigh, fingertips barely skimming the surface as he traced slow, teasing patterns. His touch was featherlight, barely there, but the sensation sent a shiver through you, your muscles tensing beneath his hand.

"It's okay," he murmured against your skin, the vibration of his voice making you tremble.

His touch shifted, his palm resting over your knee as he gently coaxed your legs open. Your heart thrummed at the feeling of your legs spreading for him, your mind going hazy with arousal.

"So good," he praised, and the words made you shudder, your head spinning.

Slowly, carefully, he guided your legs over his shoulders, letting them settle there as his hands slid along the outside of your thighs. His eyes locked on yours before he leaned in.

A soft gasp escaped you, your pulse quickening as he pressed a slow, teasing kiss to your inner thigh, so close to where you needed him most.

One of your hands found its way to his hair, feeling a little sensitive from his breath tickling your skin. Felix exhaled a shaky sound, his hips shifting slightly against the mattress as he let his mouth linger.

You swallowed hard, your stomach fluttering as he slowly trailed lower, his lips brushing dangerously close to the crease where your thigh met your hip. Your grip tightened on his hair, pulling another muffled sound from him, something like a whimper.

It made your mind fog over with heat, your thighs clenching instinctively. But then his grip shifted, his hands sliding beneath your thighs, fingers curling around your legs as he pinned you open.

A shaky moan broke from your lips, your head falling back as your hand gripped at his hair even harder, a jolt of pleasure shooting through you. He hadn't even touched you yet, and the feeling of being held open, of being almost completely exposed for him, was overwhelming.

"Felix," you breathed, your hips squirming under his grip.

He hummed softly in acknowledgment, but it was more of a low, needy sound than an actual response. Then he pressed another kiss to your thigh, just slightly higher this time, before he lightly bit down on the soft skin.

The unexpected pressure made you gasp, your fingers clenching in his hair. He let out a muffled sound, his fingertips digging into your thighs as he released the skin from between his teeth. Then he soothed the sting with another soft kiss, his lips lingering as his breath fanned over your skin.

Your hips shifted again, a whimper rising in your throat as he continued teasing you. He was so close, so painfully close, but not close enough.

"Please," you breathed, your voice shaky and unsteady. "I need-"

Your words cut off abruptly as Felix closed the distance. Your muscles tensed, a gasp escaping your lips as his tongue flicked out, tracing over the wet fabric of your underwear. The sensation was light, barely there, but it made you shudder, your body suddenly feeling too hot, too sensitive.

He exhaled a soft sigh against you, the sound sending a jolt of heat down your spine, and then he was pressing kisses, teasing you with his mouth, his tongue, making you tremble.

A soft, needy sound escaped you, the feeling of his lips on you making your mind go hazy with arousal. You shifted, instinctively trying to close your legs, but his hands were firm, holding you open for him.

"Fuck," you gasped, the word trailing off into a whimper as he nuzzled closer, breathing you in.

His tongue traced the outline of you, slow, teasing, before he mouthed at you, dragging the fabric over your clit. Your back arched slightly, a shaky moan breaking past your lips. He did it again, harder this time, his mouth hot even through the thin barrier.

Felix groaned into you, the vibration of his voice making your hips jerk against his grip. And then suddenly, his fingers slipped into the waistband of your underwear. He didn't stop kissing you, didn't stop touching you as he dragged the fabric down your thighs, leaving you bare.

And then he pulled away just enough for him to take in the view. His pupils were blown wide, his cheeks flushed, his lips wet with you. The sight of it made your breath hitch, your heart thrumming against your ribs.

"You're so pretty," he whispered, and god, his voice sounded so fucked out, so breathless. "So pretty."

A desperate sound rose in your throat, your hips shifting at his words. "Fuck, don't say things like that."

He hummed softly in acknowledgment, sitting back on his heels. But he didn't respond, instead, he ran his fingers through his hair, pulling the strands back. You watched, captivated, as he gathered his hair into a messy bun, securing it with a hair tie around his wrist. Then, slowly, deliberately, he trailed his fingers along the inside of your thighs, his gaze following the movement before his eyes met yours again.

Your pulse quickened, your skin tingling beneath his touch.

Then his thumb brushed over you, slow, experimental. The sudden pressure made your breath catch, your muscles tensing as you tried to suppress a shiver.

His gaze flicked up to yours, gauging your reaction as he repeated the movement. You whimpered, your grip tightening on the sheets as he repeated the action again, and again. The feeling of his thumb moving against you sent sparks of pleasure through you, but it wasn't enough.

You gasped out, your hips rolling into his touch.

"I know, baby," he murmured affectionately, his voice barely above a whisper.

Baby. The word made your head spin. Hearing it fall from his lips caused you to clench around nothing, the emptiness almost painful.

His eyes widened slightly at your reaction, looking up at you through his lashes with something akin to amusement. Then his hand left you, leaving you cold, leaving you empty. You wanted to protest, wanted to beg him to touch you again, but before you could, he pressed his lips to the inside of your thigh, soft, tender.

You stilled, your breath hitching as he trailed slow, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, making you more impatient.

When he reached the apex of your thighs, he hesitated. You could feel his warm breath fanning over you, sending a wave of heat down your spine.

Then he leaned in, and you gasped.

A choked sound escaped your lips, your back arching as he pressed his tongue against you. You felt him smirk, just slightly, before he did it again, licking a slow, firm stripe up your slit.

The feeling of his mouth on you was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, hot and wet and overwhelming. A shudder ran through you, your hips twitching against his grip as he repeated the action, his tongue tracing over your folds.

The sensation made your legs tremble, your head falling back as you moaned out, your voice sounding unfamiliar to your ears. Felix groaned in response, his hands tightening on your thighs as he pulled you closer, burying his face between your legs.

Your skin was tingling, your body burning with arousal. But then he flicked his tongue over your clit, slow and teasing. It was so light, so gentle, yet it made you whimper, heat pooling in your lower stomach.

"F-Felix," you gasped out, your fingers curling into the sheets.

He hummed softly in acknowledgment, the sound vibrating against you. Then he did it again, firmer this time, his tongue circling your clit before he flicked it once more.

Your breath hitched, your thighs clenching around his head.

He seemed to notice your reaction because he repeated the motion, adding a little more pressure. Your hips twitched involuntarily, your voice breaking off into a moan.

"Shit," you breathed, barely able to string words together. "Feels so good."

The praise made him whimper, his grip tightening on your thighs as he continued licking at you. Your back arched slightly, the sensation making your muscles tense, your skin buzzing. He continued teasing your clit, each flick of his tongue sending sparks of pleasure through you.

But you needed more. You wanted more.

Suddenly, you felt his fingers sliding up your thigh, tentative. When his thumb brushed against you again, you moaned, your hips rolling against his touch.

"Yes," you gasped out, barely able to breathe. "Please."

Felix pulled away just enough for him to speak, his breath fanning over your sensitive skin, making you shiver. "You want my fingers?"

You nodded frantically, unable to form words, unable to do anything but chase the feeling. He hummed softly, almost to himself, as though he were savoring your reactions.

Then his hand shifted, his thumb brushing against your entrance. The sensation made you gasp, your hips bucking forward, trying to get him inside. But he only pressed another soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, murmuring low against your skin.

"Relax, baby," he murmured, the term of endearment sending a jolt of heat straight to your core.

Then his index finger slowly eased inside, the sudden sensation making you gasp. His grip tightened on your thigh, his touch reassuring, grounding, as he added his middle finger, probing deeper.

Your legs trembled, your head falling back as a soft whimper broke past your lips.

His mouth was still on you, his tongue tracing lazy circles around your clit as he pumped his fingers in and out, slow and torturous. The feeling of his mouth on you, his finger filling you, was overwhelming.

You were so wound up, so desperate, that the sudden rush of pleasure was nearly too much.

"Fuck, Felix," you moaned, your hands fisting into the sheets.

The sound of his name made him whimper against you, his tongue flicking out, teasing. He curled his fingers inside you, searching, seeking. Then he found what he was looking for, a spot that made your hips jerk against his touch, a broken moan rising from your throat.

He groaned into you, his tongue moving faster against your clit, his fingers hitting that same spot over and over again.

Heat coiled in your stomach, your muscles tensing as he kept up his pace. Your skin was tingling, your breath coming in short, shaky gasps as he continued, his fingers pumping in and out.

You felt yourself getting closer, the sensation of his mouth and his fingers pushing you to the edge.

"Wait, I'm close," you breathed, your voice breaking off into a whimper. "Lixie, please-"

Your words trailed off into a moan as he sped up, curling his fingers with each thrust. The feeling of him touching you, fucking you, was overwhelming. Your vision blurred, your hips rolling against his touch as you chased the feeling.

A sharp cry escaped you, your back arching, your legs tensing around his head. Your muscles clenched around his fingers, waves of pleasure shooting through you as he kept moving his hand. You trembled, your body aching, your thighs shaking as he fucked you through your orgasm.

When your breathing finally started to slow, he gently pulled his fingers out, leaving you feeling empty, a whine building in your throat. But then he pressed one last kiss to your thigh, tender and sweet.

Felix let out a slow, steady breath, his hands still smoothing over your legs in absentminded strokes as he leaned back. His lips were swollen, his cheeks stained with warmth, and his hair, god, his hair; was a complete mess, strands of it falling into his eyes. He looked so pretty like this, so utterly wrecked and yet still so gentle, so sweet.

You wanted to tell him. Wanted to whisper how beautiful he was, how good he made you feel, how all of you felt like it belonged to him in this moment. But the words didn’t come. Instead, you reached forward, fingers slipping into his hair, pushing the stray strands back.

He closed his eyes at the touch, exhaling softly, and before you could stop yourself, you tugged him toward you. He let himself be pulled, crawling onto the bed, settling beside you as you wrapped yourself around him, pressing into his warmth.

There was a quiet hum of contentment as he rested his forehead against your shoulder, his arms winding around your waist. He held you like he never wanted to let go, his fingertips tracing light patterns along your back.

And for a moment, you let yourself forget everything else. The worries, the overthinking, none of it mattered. Not right now.

All that mattered was this. The warmth of him. The way your body still trembled from what he’d done. The knowledge that he had wanted to. That he had chosen to.

But then, as your breathing steadied, your mind caught onto something else, something that made your stomach twist.

You could feel him.

Hard and aching against your thigh, his body trembling ever so slightly as he held you. He hadn’t asked for anything in return. Hadn’t even hinted at it. He had done this just for you, just because he wanted to.

But now, you wanted to do something for him too.

Your face burned at the thought, nerves creeping in as you swallowed hard.

You hesitated before whispering, “I can, um…” You swallowed again, heat spreading up your neck as you forced the words out. “I can help you too. With my mouth.”

Felix stiffened instantly. His arms tightened around you for a split second before he pulled back slightly, eyes wide, face already turning red.

“I-” He shook his head, his voice breathless, uneven. “No. I… I only wanted to take care of you.”

You frowned. “But-”

“I don’t think I can handle that right now,” he admitted, voice quieter, his fingers gripping onto you as if the thought alone had overwhelmed him.

You bit your lip, staring at him. He looked so nervous, so wrecked already, and you knew he meant it. But at the same time, you could feel him, could feel how much he needed something, anything.

So you thought for a moment. Then, hesitantly, you spoke again.

“What about…” You swallowed, your heart pounding in your ears. “What about my thighs?”

Felix nearly choked on his own breath. His eyes snapped to yours, his face going impossibly red, and he let out something between a cough and a gasp, his grip on you tightening as he tried to process your words.

And honestly? That reaction only made you want to do it more.

You shifted, laying back on your elbows and letting your legs fall open slightly. He exhaled shakily, watching the way you still dripped from earlier, and suddenly, he seemed to forget how to breathe.

You bit the inside of your cheek, your skin tingling under his gaze.

He didn't move, didn't speak, just stared. And fuck, he looked like he was in absolute awe of you, like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. "Lix?"

He blinked, his eyes refocusing. "Um, are you sure?"

You nodded, swallowing hard. "Please."

He let out a shaky breath, his grip tightening on your ankles. Then, slowly, deliberately, he pulled them together, resting your calves on his shoulder as he leaned forward.

You watched as he hesitated before fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants, pushing them down just enough for his cock to spring free. He was already dripping, flushed pink, hard and straining, and the sight of him like this, so needy, made your stomach flutter.

Felix's hands were shaking slightly as he reached out, gently guiding himself between your thighs. The sudden feeling of him against you made you gasp, the sound making him whimper, his cock twitching.

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice unsteady.

His hands wrapped around your ankles once more, holding them in place as he rocked his hips forward experimentally. A shaky moan broke past his lips as he dragged his cock through your folds, smearing precum across your skin.

Your eyes widened when you realized how intimate this looked and felt, your mind going hazy with arousal. You were still sensitive from before, still aching from his mouth, and the feeling of him sliding through your thighs made your head spin.

He exhaled a shaky sigh, his grip tightening on your ankles as he continued rocking his hips. The friction was delicious, hot and wet and overwhelming. You couldn't help but whimper, your skin tingling, your stomach twisting with heat.

He leaned forward, his body hovering over yours as he pressed your ankles closer together, the pressure making you gasp.

You threw your head back, your eyes fluttering shut as he fucked into you, slow and steady. You could feel every inch of him sliding between your thighs, his cock hot and heavy against your skin.

The feeling of him surrounding you like this, your legs pressed together, your thighs slick with his precum and your own wetness, was too much. A soft whimper broke past your lips as you rolled your hips, desperate for some kind of friction.

But he suddenly paused when he felt your folds rub up against him, making a sound that was way too erotic for your own good. His head fell forward, his cock twitching against your thighs.

"Shit," he moaned, his voice barely above a whisper. "Don't do that."

You swallowed hard, your body tensing at the sound of his voice, so low and breathless. "Sorry," you mumbled, unable to form any other words.

Felix let out a shaky breath, his fingers digging into your ankles as he pushed them closer together, holding your legs in place as he tried to take a moment to compose himself. But then you shifted slightly beneath him, and a choked sound broke past his lips, his hips jerking forward instinctively.

"Fuck, baby," he moaned, his eyes fluttering shut as his cock slid against your folds once more, making you whimper. "You're so wet."

The words sent a wave of heat through you, your skin tingling, your muscles clenching. He was right, you were dripping, your arousal mixing with his precum, slick and hot and wet.

And then, before you could respond, he started moving again, his thrusts faster, harder this time. Each stroke dragged along your folds, his cock pressing a delicious pressure against your clit. You couldn't help but gasp, your hips rolling into the feeling, trying to get closer.

"Lixie," you breathed, your voice shaking.

Your hands fisted in the sheets as he continued fucking into you, his grip tightening on your ankles as he held them in place. You could feel yourself getting closer with each thrust, your skin tingling, your muscles tensing as you chased the feeling.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," he gasped out, his voice breaking off into a moan. "So good."

The praise made you shudder, and your hips rolled into him, your breath catching in your throat.

"Please," you whimpered, the word trailing off into a gasp as he pressed your ankles closer together, holding them tighter.

Your back arched off the mattress, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt his cock drag against you, hard and hot and heavy. It was so good, too good. You couldn't think, couldn't breathe. All you could do was moan, your voice breaking off into a desperate sound as he kept thrusting between your thighs.

He groaned into you, his body trembling as he fucked you, his movements starting to grow erratic, sloppy. You could feel yourself getting closer, your skin buzzing, your muscles tensing as you tried to hold on.

"Come on, Y/N," he moaned, his voice breathless. "Give it to me."

The words made you gasp, your back arching off the mattress as you felt yourself slipping over the edge. Your legs tensed around him, your toes curling as pleasure shot through you, making you shiver.

Felix whimpered at the sensation, his hips stuttering as he kept thrusting into you. Your eyes rolled back, your head falling to the side as you rode out your high.

He followed soon after, his fingers digging into your ankles as he came, hot and wet and sticky. You could feel him spilling all over the uncovered skin of your lower stomach as he let out a string of beautiful moans, his voice breaking off into a gasp.

He collapsed on top of you, burying his face into your neck as he tried to catch his breath, his body trembling.

For a moment, you just laid there, unable to move, unable to speak, your chest heaving. And then slowly, deliberately, you reached up, running your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly. He whimpered in response, his face still hidden in your neck, his arms winding around you, holding you close.

"Lix," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Are you okay?"

He exhaled a slow, steady breath before nodding, his grip on you tightening slightly. You smiled at the reaction, your fingers carding through his hair.

Then he mumbled something under his breath, something that sounded suspiciously like thank you.

"You're welcome," you murmured, your voice soft. "Are you okay? Was that too much?"

He shook his head, pulling away just enough to look at you. His eyes were dark, hooded, his cheeks flushed.

"I'm fine," he breathed, his voice still slightly shaky. "That was... so much."

You bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze falling to your lap. "I know. Messy too. We should probably-"

Felix cut you off by pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, silencing you instantly. The gesture made your heart flutter, warmth spreading through you.

"Let me clean you," he mumbled, his voice quiet, almost shy.

You felt yourself blush at his words, your stomach twisting. But before you could respond, he stood up, disappearing into your bathroom.

You couldn't help but stare at his back, watching as his muscles flexed with each movement, his skin glowing in the moonlight. He was so pretty, so soft, so... everything.

The sight of him like this made your chest ache, your heart hammering against your ribs as you watched him walk away.

And then, as soon as he was out of sight, you remembered the situation. You remembered that you were almost completely naked, that your thighs and stomach were coated in his cum, that you were laying in his bed after he'd fucked you with his tongue.

Oh my god.

Your face burned at the thought, your pulse quickening. You'd never felt like this before, never experienced anything like it. I mean, yeah, you've had sex before, but not sex like this. Not sex that made your entire body tingle. Not sex that felt so intimate even when it wasn't supposed to be.

You swallowed hard as you heard him return, your gaze turning to the ceiling. He paused, his eyes scanning over your body, taking in the sight of you spread out across his bed. He hesitated, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, before he stepped closer, a wet cloth in his hand.

He reached out, his movements slow and gentle as he wiped you down. Your stomach twisted, your breath catching in your throat as he cleaned you up, careful not to leave anything behind.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't say anything in response, only nodded before returning to the bathroom. When he returned, he crawled back into the bed, pulling the covers over you both.

"Wait- you want me to sleep here?" You asked, surprise evident in your voice.

He hummed in agreement, reaching over to turn off the light. "Yeah," he whispered, his voice low. "We've slept together before, what's the problem?"

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. He should really watch his words, because now all you were thinking about the fact that you'd 100% let your best friend hit if he asked. But he was talking about how you both have slept together, as in, literally, sharing a bed.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to calm down. "I don't know," you finally answered, your voice quiet. "I just... wasn't expecting this."

He shrugged. "I don't mind. It's easier than you going back to your room, isn't it?"

You hesitated for a moment, but then nodded, pulling the blankets tighter around yourself.

Felix smiled softly at the gesture, shifting closer to you, resting his head on your chest. You blinked, taken aback by the sudden contact, but then relaxed, letting your fingers slide into his hair, taking out the bun he had put in prior.

Felix’s breathing evened out against your chest, warm and steady, his fingers twitching slightly where they rested on your waist. You could feel the weight of him, the way his body molded so easily against yours, like he belonged there. His hair was soft beneath your fingers as you ran them gently through the strands, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment.

You exhaled softly, staring up at the ceiling.

Tomorrow. You would tell him tomorrow.

The thought settled into your bones, a mix of nerves and certainty twisting in your stomach. No more dancing around it, no more overthinking. You were going to tell Felix how you felt.

With that thought, your eyes grew heavier, and soon enough, sleep pulled you under.

The next morning, the soft glow of early sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting gentle rays across Felix’s face. You blinked blearily, still groggy with sleep, only to find him nestled against you, his lips slightly parted, his hair a tousled mess against the pillow.

He looked so soft like this. So precious.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned down, pressing a feather-light kiss to his temple. He stirred slightly, his fingers curling against the fabric of your shirt, but he didn’t wake.

A warm feeling bloomed in your chest, but then-

Your eyes caught the time on the clock.

Panic jolted through you.

You quickly and carefully slipped out of bed, pulling your pants back on as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Felix let out a soft, sleepy sigh behind you, but you forced yourself to ignore the urge to crawl back under the covers with him.

Instead, you quietly crept out of his room, shutting the door softly behind you.

As soon as you turned around, you nearly jumped out of your skin.

Jeongin was standing right there, looking like he hadn’t slept a single minute. His eyes were bloodshot, dark circles under them so prominent that you wondered if he had even blinked since last night.

“…What the hell?” you muttered, still groggy.

Jeongin stared at you, dead serious.

“I swear to god, I heard a ghost last night.”

You blinked. “…What?”

He ran a hand down his face, shuddering. “I couldn’t sleep. I was lying in bed, trying, right? But then I heard this… this noise.” His eyes darkened as he dropped his voice to a whisper. “Like a ghost moaning in pain.”

Your stomach dropped.

Oh. My god.

You suddenly wished you had stayed in Felix’s room.

Jeongin continued, oblivious to the way your face was quickly heating up. “It was awful. Like, I don’t know how to describe it, but it was this long, drawn-out, breathy sound, and I swear it came from somewhere in the dorm. I kept thinking, ‘what if it’s a spirit trying to communicate?’”

You cleared your throat, trying to keep your expression neutral. “Aha. That’s, um. That’s wild.”

Jeongin groaned, rubbing his temples. “I had to turn the lights on, man. I couldn’t deal with the dark anymore.”

You swallowed hard, nodding way too fast. “Yeah. Yeah, I get that.”

Jeongin squinted at you, suspicion written all over his face. “Wait… where were you last night?”

Your stomach flipped.

“Nowhere!” you blurted, way too quickly. “I was just- um…”

Jeongin’s eyes narrowed further, his gaze dragging over your disheveled state, your rumpled clothes, your messy hair, the clear signs that you had definitely just rolled out of someone’s bed.

Before you could scramble for a better excuse, the door behind you creaked open.

Felix stumbled out, looking just as exhausted as Jeongin, his hair a fluffy, unkempt mess. His pajama shirt was slightly askew, his eyes puffy with sleep as he rubbed at them sluggishly. He barely registered the two of you before stopping dead in his tracks.

His gaze landed on you first, then darted to Jeongin, then back to you.

And then-

His entire face turned bright red.

Oh. Oh, he just realized what this looked like.

You, standing outside his room, fresh out of bed.

Him, still in pajamas, barely awake.

At eleven in the morning.

Jeongin sighed suddenly, covering his face with his hands.

“Thank god,” he mumbled, voice muffled. “You guys heard the ghost too.”

You nearly choked.

Felix’s wide eyes flickered to you in utter confusion. You could only stare back, mirroring the same 'what the hell is he talking about?' expression.

Jeongin peeked between his fingers. “Wasn’t it awful? Like, so awful you couldn’t sleep alone?”

Your soul left your body.

You cleared your throat, forcing a stiff nod. “Yeah. So awful.”

Felix nodded so fast you were afraid he might hurt himself. “Terrible,” he added weakly.

Jeongin let out a deep sigh of relief. “Finally, someone who understands.” He shook his head. “I told Channie-hyung, but he just laughed at me. Like, what kind of reaction is that?”

Felix swallowed hard, visibly trying to keep it together. “I- I’ll make breakfast,” he blurted out suddenly. “For everyone. Just… give me a minute.”

And then, before anyone could say another word, he spun on his heel and fled back into his room, shutting the door a little too quickly behind him.

You exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down your face, realizing that you were never going to be able to walk around your apartment in peace again.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

tags for beauties : @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88, @velvetmoonlght, @honeyybbuubblleess, @st4rv3lly

#skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz imagines #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids smut #straykids #lee felix smut #lee felix x reader #lee felix #felix lee #felix x reader #felix smut #skz felix #felix #stray kids felix #puppym3

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inklessletter · 22 hours ago

Text

"Let me hate you." "That won't change a thing."

This is what happens when the amazing, unbelievably talented @stervrucht suggest that we collab (like, this morning, literally). Dropped everything to give her something to work her magic on.

At risk of being a bit too much (I warned you), let me tell you, this is the most fun I've had playing around with art in a long, LONG time. Thank you for this amazing experience, art buddy 💞

Lineart + ficlet (below) - @inklessletter

Colouring - @stervrucht

WC: 917 | Steddie, Steve's POV, Mild Hurt/Comfort, internalized homophobia.

THE CAGE

In the cage, they're always skin to skin.

Lip to lip.

In the cage, there's an obscene amount of props to change the scene whenever Steve feels like it, so they can be together in every alternative universe.

(Oh, Steve knows now a lot of alternative universes, because it's hard not to listen to him when he speaks so passionately.)

He speaks up, shares secrets, holds hands and looks straight in the eye of Eddie Munson with no fear, in the cage.

And Eddie reciprocates. He stares back right into Steve's soul and he feels like nothing but flesh and bones made to break with love words. Steve longs to be no more, no less.

In the cage.

The cage is safe, because it's secret. Nobody knows about it, not even Robin. Talking about the cage means it exists. And if it exists, then he has to do something about it. It hasn't always existed, though. There was a time where Steve wore his heart on his sleeve and, well, you know, he never got a good eye to guess how strong or delicate are the things he holds.

His heart was fine once, though. Now it's patched up, now he's more careful with it. Fragile, damaged goods that he's sure that can't afford another blow. Not even a little one.

Not even by accident.

So, the cage is impenetrable. Nobody comes in, nobody comes out except what Steve decides, and this time, the cage fits everything that can't exist with Eddie Munson out of it.

The cage is where all those feelings he can't ever express go to die, and they both bury them together. Steve and Eddie. They make art with it.

The cage is fine, the cage is safe, because everything is contained in there.

Until it's not.

Until that stupid morning he wakes up in a mess of bed sheets that feel ablaze, and he's sweaty, and half hard, and wet, and he wakes up with Eddie's name in his lips.

But hey, nobody is there to listen to it, so does a tree make a sound when there's nobody to hear it fall down?

That is no comfort, though. Not even in the slightest.

Because there's a breach in the cage, now.

He said his name and his heart is balancing on breaking branches and unstable now.

After that day, everything leaks.

He blushes, ridiculously so, when Eddie so much looks at him.

He tries not to flinch at the accidental touch, not to react to the shock wave it sends through his system, and given that Eddie is a very tactile person, it's torture.

He never looks at him in the eye. He might see the breach. The cage.

They are never alone.

Not anymore, really.

Steve avoids it, and it's getting more and more difficult to find excuses, because they see each other all the time.

He's starting to notice that Eddie knows something and Steve is freaking out. Eddie acts a bit hurt with every rejection, and good. Steve would rather Eddie thinks that he doesn't like him than to admit the truth.

But it's a loss.

The cage is the home of uninvited grief now.

Steve wonders, when he's alone, holding his heart with shaky hands, if he has the right to cry.

Hasn't cried in years.

Steve decides that he hasn't any.

Puts his heart away, broken glass, in a shelf to gather dust, though he knows he might forget about it and break it accidentally when he tries to clean his cage.

Has happened before, will happen again, because Steve is cursed.

A fight is the better choice.

Destroy the cage.

He goes to meet Eddie to be his worst self, he's got experience in that. He can be mean, no, cruel. He'll be cruel, he'll make him want not to be in the same room with him and Steve will eventually find peace.

He will be able to rest.

To fall in a dreamless sleep in what's left of what was safe once.

Yeah, he'll do that.

Only it's not that what happens.

Steve is tense, doesn't know if to punch or run. Push him against the wall because how dares Eddie to be understanding. How dares he to be considerate, and how dares he to read and listen what's coming out of the cage.

What give him the right.

How dares he to say "it's okay."

Fuck you, Eddie, it is not okay.

He's wrong.

He's delicate.

How dares he to grab his heart, he's going to crush it with those stupid, careless fingers full of stupid rough silver chunks he wears for jewelry.

Fuck you, Eddie.

He actually says that, though.

"Fuck you."

The fact that he's about to cry, now, of all times he could have done it, he's about to cry now, when his voice is shaky, and his insults don't land.

"I love you."

His heart is in pieces.

He is in pieces. Destroyed. Demolished.

"Let me hate you", is what he begs. Isn't that pathetic?

"That won't change a thing."

Eddie is touching him now and Steve is not flinching. He wants to grab his face, push him away, scream and spit on his face. Why is Eddie not seeing what Steve is trying to do here? He's just trying to survive, because he can't avoid it anymore. He's already broken.

Has been for a while now.

Outside the cage, they're now skin to skin.

Lip to lip.

#inklessletter #stervrucht #art collab #collab #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #stranger things #ficlet #fanfiction #fanart #steddie art #stervrucht draws steddie #inky art

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helen-with-an-a · 18 hours ago

Text

Sound

Hi, this is Part 2 of the Senses story that came out a few weeks ago, I hope you enjoy.

Sight : Sound : Smell : Taste : Touch : Cryptaesthesia

Jessie Fleming x Putellas!Reader

Description: R just loves the sound of Jessie's voice

You were never much of a talker. Anyone who knew you well was painfully aware of this. Maybe it was because you grew up with Alexia and Alba as your older sisters, maybe it was because you never felt like what you had to say would be listened too. But either way, you weren't much of a talker.

Alexia seemed to understand this though, much better than Alba did anyway. She'd spent years deciphering what each nod, each eyebrow twitch, each small smile meant. Whereas Alba had tried to force you out of your shell through demanding conversation, Alexia let you be.

It wasn't until you moved to Chelsea that she realised how hard you not talking truly was. There were times when she’d joke that getting you to talk on the phone was like pulling teeth, but it was only half a joke. She wanted to connect to check in on you, especially after you’d moved to London. At first, she insisted on calling you every single day, determined to make sure you were okay, that you were adjusting to your new life. You knew her intentions were wrapped in love, but each call felt like a marathon, leaving you emotionally drained as you struggled to fill the silences with words that just wouldn’t come.

It wasn’t until your Mamí stepped in that Alexia reluctantly agreed to cut back on her calls to just twice a week. You loved your sister fiercely, and the last thing you wanted was for her to think you didn’t want to hear from her. But the truth was, each conversation could feel overwhelming. Growing up, you watched Alexia light up any room she entered, effortlessly holding conversations and making connections, no matter how awkward she seemed. While you always preferred the quiet comfort of being a listener. You were the shy girl, the introvert at heart, finding refuge in the background.

For you, being able to fully know someone without the need for words, was all that you were truly after. Your sisters always said that it was a foolish thing to wish for. That the only way you could completely know someone was through talking. But you had always thought differently. To be so in synch with someone that you knew exactly what they wanted, what they were thinking just by the way they held their coffee cup, or looked out the window. That was what love truly was to you.

Jessie understood that in a way that felt almost magical. She had an innate ability to sense when you needed silence instead of chatter. On days when talking was the last thing you wanted to do, she would never push you to be anyone but yourself. She was perfectly content to create a cosy little bubble of comfort, filled with unspoken understanding. You’d often find yourself nestled against her, your head resting on her chest, lulled by the gentle rhythm of her breathing as she lost herself in her book.

“Can you read to me, mi vida?” you murmured one evening, your voice thick with sleepiness, your accent a bit more pronounced than usual. The sound of your soft, sleepy voice made Jessie’s heart flutter, and she felt herself swooning at how natural it felt for you to call her that. It was moments like these that she had sort so desperately as a teenager. And now that she had them, had you, she was never going to give that up.

Jessie laughed lightly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face as she asked, “You want to know about the crater that’s been discovered that might have killed the dinosaurs?”

“No,” you replied, a lazy smile spreading across your face. “But I like hearing your voice.” As you looked up at her, your eyes sparkled with the quiet affection she cherished beyond anything else.

Smiling, she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You’re too sweet, baby,” she whispered, her voice warm and playful. Clearing her throat, she traced lazy circles on your shoulder with her fingers, settling back into her book.

With each word she spoke, her voice wove a calm, soothing rhythm that wrapped around you like a soft blanket. You felt yourself drifting, the stresses of the day, of life itself, melting away as you surrendered to the peaceful atmosphere she created. Jessie read on, her fingers brushing gently through your hair, another reminder that sometimes this simple closeness was all you needed.

As Jessie continued to read, you let your eyes flutter shut, surrendering to the warmth. The gentle cadence of her voice, blended with the soft rustling of the pages, pulled you deeper into a peaceful state. You could feel the steady rise and fall of her chest beneath your head, the comfort of her heartbeat syncing with your own, pulling you deeper into sleep's embrace.

You drifted in and out of sleep, caught in that dreamy state where reality softened at the edges. In those moments, you felt safe, safer than you ever had before. It was a feeling you hadn’t fully appreciated until Jessie had entered your life. Here, in this little bubble, there were no expectations or pressures; just a simple, shared understanding. Even when you were with your sisters, they always wanted something, asking you to move over, or change the TV channel, or tell them about what was happening in your life. Jessie never asked for more than you were willing to give.

Jessie paused mid-sentence, and you stirred slightly, the sudden quiet bringing back to consciousness. “Que esta mal?” you murmured, blinking up at her, your eyebrows creasing in concern, your mind still hazy from sleep.

“Nothing, just… I was thinking,” she said, her fingers pausing on the page. Her eyes softened as she looked down at you. “I love these quiet moments with you. It’s like we’re in our own little world.” Her sincerity washed over you like a warm wave, your heart swelling at her words.

You nodded, a sleepy smile forming on your lips. “Yo también,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “It feels nice to just be together like this.” You shifted slightly, snuggling closer against her, drawing comfort from her warmth. "I've never had this before."

Jessie chuckled softly, her laughter gentle. “Es perfecto,” she said, her tone playful. “Especially when I get to read you random facts about dinosaurs and craters.”

“I love your random facts,” you laughed, your smile growing wider.

With a grin, she set the book aside, allowing the silence to settle around you again. “We have to leave soon, you're Mamí and Alba are landing at 6” she reminded you, her fingers still gently stroking your hair.

“Just stay here for a bit longer?” you suggested, your voice soft. Yes, you had missed Alba so much, and your Mamí even more, but they would have to wait a little longer. You sighed happily, feeling your body melt against Jessie.

“Of course,” Jessie promised, her voice low and soothing. She leaned back against the headboard again, adjusting slightly to accommodate you better, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of affection for her – a deep gratitude for how effortlessly she understood you.

Time seemed to slow, and you found yourself lost in the rhythm of her heartbeat and the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Eventually, the outside world faded even further away, and you felt your eyelids grow heavy once more.

Just before you drifted off again, Jessie’s voice broke the silence, this time filled with playful curiosity. “You know, if we keep spending all our time like this, I might get a little spoiled,” she teased, her tone light.

You smirked, peeking up at her. “Spoiled?”

“Like, I’ll want to keep you all to myself,” she said, her smile turning mischievous. “Just me, you, in the quiet, for the rest of our lives.”

Your heart raced at the thought, warmth blooming in your chest. “Well, if you’re going to spoil me, I suppose I can handle that,” you replied, your voice laced with teasing agreement.

“Good,” she said with a grin. "Go to sleep, sweetheart. I'll wake you with enough time to get ready."

"Bueno, mi vida. Te amo," you mumbled, already half asleep.

"I love you too, baby." She smiled down at you, her fingers tracing soothing patterns across your shoulders. "Sweet dreams."

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btsugarush · 2 days ago

Text

I'd Hate To Say it | pjm (teaser)

summary: when you return home from studying abroad, you come to find your former best friend, jimin, has made drastic changes to his life that could put him in danger or behind bars forever.

pairings: drug dealer jimin x fireader.

warnings: smut, violence, fluff, blood and gore, ex best friend jimin, gang member!jimin, tattooed/pierced!jimin, long hair!jimin, use of guns/knives, mentions of self harm, mentions of abuse, alcohol abuse, drugs, drug addiction, angst, murder, strong language, 18+, minors dni.

word count: 796

author’s note: yes yes, I’m getting back into my writing and I’ve finally posted at least the teaser to this fic lol.

Your heart beats heavily against your chest as you finally hear Jimin’s door unlock, the brunette appearing on the other side as it opens. He looks uninterested to see you, an annoyed expression on his face. “What’re you doing here, y/n?” He says dryly. You take a deep breath before you speak. “Is it true?” You ask softly.

Jimin leans against his door frame, a raised eyebrow as he waits for you to explain what you mean, but you don’t. “Is what true?” He urges you to go on. “What everyone is saying… that you– that you have something to do with that boy getting murdered.”

Jimin squints before his dark orbs survey the hallway to make sure no one is around. It was almost like he thought you were setting him up, but regardless of your estranged friendship, he still knew you better than that. Once he made sure the coast was clear, he pulled you by your arm inside his apartment and slammed the door closed. “What’s everyone saying?” He questions.

“That you, along with your little gang associates, had something to do with that shooting that happened in Busan last night.” Jimin scoffs, letting go of your arm. The brunette walks around you, running his fingers through his hair in distress. His back is turned towards you, and he stands in silence for a moment before turning to face you.

“Do you believe them?”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t. It was time to face the painful truth; Jimin was no longer that sweet boy you used to know. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Jimin. I mean… since I’ve been back I’ve barely recognized you. You’ve been into a lot of reckless shit, and now you have murder attached to your name? It doesn’t seem too far-fetched anymore.”

Jimin scowled at your insinuation. “Then I guess you got it all figured out, don’t you? Just call the cops now if you’re so sure, y/n.” He pulls his cell from his pocket, reaching out for you to take it. “Go on, take it.” He beckons. You shake your head, refusing the phone. “I didn’t come here to prosecute you, Jimin.” You speak softly. “I came here hoping that it wasn’t you… but I can read you like a book still, and I know you had something to do with it.”

The brunette makes a ‘tsk’ sound. “So what if I did, y/n? Are you gonna rat on me?” He takes a step closer to you, the look in his eyes intimidating; but no matter how hard he tried to instill fear into you, he was still Jimin. “No… but you should turn yourself in. I don’t wanna see you go down like this, Mochi.” You utter the nickname you used to call him when you were kids.

This softens the brunette for a mere moment before he finds himself enraged. “Don’t. Don’t you fucking call me that. Don’t you fuckin’ pretend to give a shit about me. Not after you left me behind.” He grits his teeth, pointing his ringed finger in your face.

“I never left you behind,” you push his finger away, glaring at him. “I had goals, dreams to achieve. I couldn’t be stuck in this dead end life like–”

“Like me?” He cut you off. “Say it, y/n. Say like me.” He pushes. You shake your head, taking a step back from the brunette. “I’d hate to say it, but you’re a lost cause. I should’ve never come here. If you wanna ruin your life forever, that’s fine by me. I’m done caring.” You turn to exit, but Jimin isn’t done guilting you. “You never did.”

This finally boils your blood, and you whip around to face him. “I’m not the one that stopped reaching out, you did!” You remind him. You were tired of being the one to blame for your fallen friendship with Jimin. The phone worked both ways, and he was the one that stopped answering your calls, and calling altogether. “I am tired of being blamed, I am tired of your coldness towards me. I don’t know what the hell you wanted from me!”

“I wanted you to stay!” He snaps. “But you left and I was all alone! I needed you, y/n. I needed you and you fuckin’ left me…” his voice cracks, and for the first time since you’ve been back you see a glimpse of the old Jimin in his eyes. Soft. Innocent. Lost. “I… I don’t know what to say…” your voice is gentle. Jimin finds his composure, shaking his head. “I don’t need you to say shit,” he spat. “You wanna know if I killed that kid? Yeah. I did it.”

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thanosspills · 2 days ago

Text

The After Party

THANOS/CHOI SU-BONG X FEM READER

*+:｡.｡｡.｡:+* You always come to the parties on your knees

nsfw!!

inspired by the song "the party & the after party" by the weeknd

warnings: drug usage (weed), alcohol, smut, oral, p in v, drunk sex

slight thanos ooc, squid game au, takes place outside of the games, you and se-mi are besties!

perspective switches between thanos and reader in the beginning

word count: 1,960

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" The whole party unanimously cheered from Thanos's lavish rooftop. Thanos took another shot, then carelessly dropped the small plastic cup at his feet. He feels a grip on his shoulder, turning to see Nam-gyu with some random girl at his side. "Bro look! She says she's a big fan." The girl flashed a seductive grin at Thanos. "Cool." Thanos responds. Nam-gyu awkwardly looks back at her, then at Thanos. "Why don't you guys get to know each other?" He asks as he nudges the girl forward. Thanos doesn't acknowledge Nam-gyu's obvious attempt to get him laid. Normally, Thanos wouldn't need any help, but Nam-gyu noticed his lack of company throughout the night. Instead of clinging onto a random fan with a forgettable face, Thanos was clinging onto bottles of whatever he could find.

Thanos turns and walks toward the edge of the rooftop, resting his arms on the glass balcony. He looks down, watching drunk people wobble and shout through the street. Maybe if he stayed and kept watch long enough he'd get lucky and see you walking home with your Se-mi from whatever party you went to. He could just imagine the sweet smile on your face, enjoying yourself without him. If he was unlucky, you'd be with some random loser you met at that party. Thanos shakes his head, trying to get rid of the thought of you walking home with another guy's arm around you. "Fuck.."

"The party's slowing down fast." Thanos turns toward the unfamiliar feminine voice. It was the random girl Nam-gyu tried to set him up with. "You don't recognize me?" She asks. Thanos shakes his head and stares forward, facing the skyline. "You were hitting on me at a party just a couple months ago." She continues, "You were like, 'Hey senõrita, don't you know who I am?'" Thanos doesn't react. "I thought it was cute but.." "I had a boyfriend at the time." The random girl steps closer, placing her hand on Thanos's shoulder, sensually rubbing down his arm. Thanos finally turns his head and faces her again. He stands up straight, looking her up and down, and she flashes him that same try-hard seductive grin. Thanos grins back, "Sorry, senõrita, I'm not interested." He walks away toward the sea of people, hitting his colorful fruity vape, scanning the area for the nearest bottle.

"What's the matter?" Se-mi stares at you with her signature motherly look of concern. You cross your arms and contemplate an answer. You knew you wouldn't get away with lying and saying there wasn't a problem. She knew you too well. Se-mi places a finger on her lip ring, studying your face, "It's the purple haired asshole, isn't it?" You let out a weak giggle and nudge her. "That, and this party sucks." You look around the room, gazing at the dancing, inebriated crowd. You wonder how Thanos's party was going, silently praying some random girl wasn't in his bed right now. Se-mi raised a red solo cup to your eyes, "Drink." "It'll make you feel better." You grab the cup, "What do you think I've been doing this whole time?"

Thanos had been pacing up and down his place looking for Nam-gyu for the last 10 minutes. Thanos peers around the living room, finally spotting Nam-gyu lazily leaned over on the couch, making out with that same random girl he tried to hook Thanos up with earlier. "Yo. Nam-su." Nam-gyu pulls away, letting out a breathy, "Huh?" Thanos is standing over them, his face scrunched in agitation. "I'm calling it a night. Help me kick these lames out." Nam-gyu looks around, surprised. No one had even left yet. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and checks the time on his lockscreen, "Dude it's barely 1 am." Thanos clenches his fists, "I don't give a fuck dude. This party's hella lame and I'm tired." He gestures at the random girl laid across Nam-gyu's lap. "C'mon. Party's over."

"C'mon! Let's get another drink!" You shout over the loud music. You grab Se-mi's hand and rush over to the kitchen. Se-mi fills the red solo cup with more of the unknown mixed drink, and you feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

THANOS: hey senõrita

THANOS: wanna come to my after party?

You stare at your phone screen in shock. You spent the whole night wishing he would text you even though it had been over a month since you last talked. The turbulence of your guy's "friendship" became too much for you. He'd spend the night with you, then the next with a random fangirl. You liked him too much to deal with how it made you feel.

YOU: i didn't even go to your actual party. why would i go to the one after?

THANOS: cus im throwin this one just for u

THANOS: dont bring anyone

"Who is that?" Se-mi peeks her head over your phone screen. You quickly pull it away, but she didn't even have to see the name to know who you were texting. "What's he saying?" You power of your phone and put it back in your pocket. "There's apparently an after party." Se-mi sips her drink, "You gonna go?"

*+:｡.｡｡.｡:+*

You step out of the Uber and see Thanos standing outside, finishing off a blunt. "There's my flower!" He stomps out the rest of the blunt and holds his arms out for a hug, grinning from ear to ear. You immediately smell alcohol all over Thanos as you approach him. You grab both of his shoulders and redirect his body toward the door, "Come on get inside. It's cold."

You were surprised to see Thanos's house was completely empty. He had only picked up the red plastic cups. Glitter, drugs, and bottles of alcohol littered the place, music played softly in the background. "Where is everyone?" You turn to face Thanos, he's leaning against the wall, smiling with that signature shit-eating grin of his. The lights were dim and purple, causing his neon yellow shirt to light up, and his purple hair blended in with the room. "I told you..I threw this party just for you." Thanos walks over, towering over you, "Just me and you."

You didn't even realize how drunk you were until you had melted into Thanos's kiss. You tugged at his spiky hair, the sloppy kiss somehow making you feel more intoxicated. He grabs onto both of your hips and gently pushes you onto the couch covered in gold confetti. He wastes no time throwing his neon shirt over his head before going back in to kiss you. He moves his lips down your neck, quickly and messily, a combination of eagerness and intoxication. You softly run your nails down his back, making him groan into the kiss.

Thanos gently pulls your skirt onto the floor. He looks up at you with those needy, puppy eyes. A smile draws across his lips, "I knew you'd come." You grip the back of his hair and he let's out a groan. "Shut up, Thanos." You pull him in between your thighs, his smile getting bigger with excitement. He kisses your clothed pussy, and you swear you've seen him kiss his damn cross necklace like that before. "Already so wet.." Thanos says quietly, his voice deeper. He gently pulls your underwear below your knees and starts sucking your clit. You loosen your grip on his hair, now gently running your fingers through it. He suddenly inserts two fingers inside of you as he continues to suck. The alcohol in you muted any pain that would normally come with the feeling. You throw your arm over your face and simultaneously let out a high pitch moan in response to the instant pleasure. Your moan made Thanos more eager as he quickly slides his fingers up and down your insides. "The only fucking girl I want." He breathes against your clit, "My girl."

Thanos takes his fingers out of you and grips both of his hands onto your hips, pulling his head close to your opening before inserting his tongue where his fingers were. He brings his tattooed thumb to your clit and begins to rub in circles as he moves his tongue up and down. "Fuck! Thanos!" You throw your head back against the couch and grip your fingers into the cushions. Despite him being drunk, his movements didn't miss a beat. "I'm gonna-" He pulls his tongue out and laughs, "Already?" You slap the side of his head and he catches your arm, tightly gripping onto your wrist as he reinserts his tongue. His moves his thumb up and down your clit, picking up the pace. Your breathing gets heavier, and you grind your hips up and down, pushing Thanos's tongue deeper inside of you. You grip his wrist back as you release your cum into his mouth. He pulls away so that your juices are dripping over his lips onto his chin. Thanos looks up at you and licks his lips with a manic smile before lunging his mouth onto yours. The entire area surrounding his mouth is coated in your juices, and you taste yourself on his tongue. You pull away from the kiss and lick your cum off of his chin, moving your tongue down to his neck.

Thanos stands up and shifts his baggy jorts down, just enough to free his cock from his boxers. The way you looked up at him with doe eyes, half exposed made his cock twitch even more. He sits directly besides you and leans you back into a hungry kiss. His tip pressing against your stomach made you shutter, causing Thanos to arrogantly smile onto your lips.

He grabs onto the sides of your waist and pulls you into his lap. You rub your wet clit up and down the side of his cock, causing you both to moan. Thanos pulls out of the kiss, grabbing your waist with one hand before lifting you up. With the base of his cock in his other hand, he gently lowers your opening onto him. Thanos lets out a deep groan, and you instantly throw your head over his shoulder, moaning with him. That moan against his ear, fuck it made him eager. He wastes no time gripping onto your hips and thrusting you against his cock. You sit up and dig your nails onto the sides of the couch, Thanos's eyes moving from your bodies connecting back up to you. He reaches for his colorful fruity vape on the cushion beside him, hitting it before shoving it into your mouth and blowing the smoke onto your face.

He then leans in and hungrily sucks onto your neck, bruising it with hickeys. He fumbles around trying to unhook your bra with his lack of coordination. You reach back and do it for him before sliding up your shirt, releasing your breasts. Thanos gives you a cocky, proud smile before latching his lips over your nipples. His relentless sucking makes you bounce and grind onto his cock even harder, forcing him to moan against your breast. He keeps one hand gripped onto your hip and moves his thumb back to your clit, rubbing with immediate speed. You bite your lip and whimper as your pussy tightens around his cock, making him desperately moan and slobber onto your nipple. He continues rubbing your clit, "Thanos I'm-" "I'm cumming!" You shamelessly squeal. He growls, heavily breathing as he moves his other hand back onto your hips, messily slapping you against him as he cums with you.

Thanos desperately kisses you, cupping the sides of your face with both his hands. "I meant what I said." "You're the only fucking girl I want."

thanks for reading guyss you know the drill! comment ur thoughts and send requests, i really like writing things inspired by songs so if there are other songs you want me to write for please let me know!

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bvlgum · 2 days ago

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୨୧ SILENT TREATMENT

͏─── ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏禅 “WARNINGS; “ fluff, ignoring/silent treatments (ofc), there is a kiss in winters, pet names, established relationship

Nothing here ;)

KARINA

Karina watched as you sat beside her, a bowl of cereal in your hands. Your gaze was focused on the television, you didn’t bother to spare her a single glance. She bit her lips contemplating on whether or not to call your name. “Yn…” silence. “Love?” Silence. “Come on Yn I already said I’m sorry” her tone became more whiny and needy. The moment she stood up you thought she was going to give up and walk away but instead she knelt down in front of you, her hands clasped in a pleading form,her expressions as soft as ever. “Baby please forgive me…” she pleaded with a puppy eyes which made your lips twitch in a small smile. “Fine fine I forgive you”

GISELLE

Giselle knew that once you gave her that glare and that look she was done for. She knew you probably wouldn’t talk to her until you’re satisfied with her attempts at apologizing. The first thing that crept into Giselle’s mind was to get you some of your favorite things, she knew it would be hard to resist those. She grumbled as she walked through the door a load of shopping bags in her hands. She plopped them right infront of you with a sigh. “Babe I know I shouldn’t have done that, I’m so sorry for what I did and I bought this for you just to make it up” she said gesturing over to the gift. You thought for a while. Her apology seemed sincere and you could see the genuine apologetic look written on her face. “Ok, I’m sorry for the way I acted too” you also apologize pulling her into a big hug.

WINTER

Winter knew you were dead serious mad when she saw a tear slip out from your eye. That’s the only way to know when something really got to you. She tried to call out to you but stood there frozen as you slammed the door in her face. She didn’t mean it to go like this. She sighed and went back downstairs to contemplate on either giving you space or going to confront you. Night time came and she climbed into the bed watching as your backed face her while you scrolled through your phone. She couldn’t take it anymore, not hearing your voice for almost a whole day id driving her crazy. Her hands found it’s way and snaked around your waist pulling you closer to her chest. “Baby I’m truly sorry, I didn’t mean it. You can hit or slap me I don’t care. Just please stop ignoring me…..” she pouted resting her chin on your shoulders. You didn’t respond. But soon laughter followed after the silence. “Min I don’t think I can ignore you and longer with you acting all sulky and cute” you giggled at her nuzzling into your neck placing a soft kiss on your neck.

NINGNING

Her stubborn self definitely wouldn’t want to apologize first. She kept convincing herself that you’d come back and apologize to her. She tried giving you the cold shoulders, not acknowledging your existence (but she still took secret glances tho). And everything to make you feel ignored so it was a shocker to her when you didn’t even bother to spare her a glance. Her mind began to swirl with bad thoughts. What if you never apologize and it leads to a break up? No she can’t survive you’re basically her whole world. She put her ego down and mustered up the confidence to come up with an apology. “Hey…” she said trying to sound nonchalant but deep down she hoped you didn’t notice how desperate she was for you attention. “Look I’m sorry for what I did….. I promise to be better” she said biting her inner cheek. You hadn’t even looked up from your phone yet, until now. You set your phone aside glancing up at Ningning. Her heart beat started to beat like crazy. What were you going to say next? She hoped it wasn’t something bad. “Promise?” That was all you said. “I promise” she said after clearing her throat trying to get a grasp of your hand.

#aespa fluff #aespa x reader #aespa x fem reader #aespa x you #aespa headcanons #aespa karina #aespa winter #aespa ningning #aespa giselle #giselle x reader #karina x reader #winter x reader #ningning x reader

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notlongtolove · 2 days ago

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little hearts everywhere

it’s cowardly to run, maybe. but spencer has never made you feel like anything less than whole, anything less than loved. so, he shields you like it’s second nature. he doesn’t care where you have to go to feel safe. he’d follow you to the ends of the earth if you needed him to.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: hurt comfort

content: established relationship spencer helps reader deal with a panic attack and comforts her after

word count: 2.2k

note: based on this ask! i havent had any personal experience with panic attacks (at least not recent enough for me to remember what they are like vividly) so i really tried to research and read up on them to portray them accurately. if anyone has any notes or edits you think this fic may need please feel free to let me know!!

a line: The tear-tracked cheeks, the too-quick, too-shallow breaths—Spencer doesn’t think. He runs.

From where Spencer’s standing, it’s not so much a hug as it is you barreling out of the house and crashing into the first solid presence you can find. JJ barely has time to brace before you crash into her, her arms tight around your shaking frame.

That alone is enough to make Hotch raise an eyebrow and to make Spencer’s stomach drop. You don’t run. You don’t break. The only time you ever fight restraint is when Spencer insists on triple-checking your vest.

Hotch presses a finger to his earpiece, listens for half a second before nodding sharply in Spencer’s direction. That’s all it takes—They know. Morgan has the unsub, Prentiss has the kid, JJ has the parents.

Spencer has you.

He’s already moving before he has time to think about it. He weaves his way through the sea of people, through the wailing sirens.

You all get shaken up in the field. Comes with the job. But the way you collapsed into JJ like your legs just gave out beneath you—No, that’s something else altogether, though Spencer’s not quite sure what.

Then he sees you shove away from JJ, like you can’t stand to be touched, and that’s when he knows. The tear-tracked cheeks, the too-quick, too-shallow breaths—Spencer doesn’t think. He runs.

“Fine—I’m fine. Go!” he hears you say through haggard breaths. JJ hesitates, torn between ushering the parents away from the crime scene and staying with you. But Spencer gives her the smallest nod to follow your lead. It’s better this way. The parents don’t need to see one of their rescuers unravelling. They’re already frazzled enough.

Once JJ steps away, Spencer barely has a second to open his mouth before you cut him off.

“Don’t.”

One word. A simple one. It’s been your cornerstone—for the job, for the entirety of your relationship, for him.

“Don’t,” you say when he comments on your caffeine intake.

“Don’t,” you say when he reaches out mid-shootout to pull you back—Hotch had taken your side on that one. That’s a danger to both of you, Reid.

“Don’t,” you say when he comes looking for you after you linger too long in a victim’s room, usually children, devastatingly stuck on the minute details of their lives.

It’s not that you don’t appreciate it. You just won’t be coddled. You refuse to be the subject of anyone’s soft concern, not when you’ve worked so hard to be taken seriously. You’re already the only one who can turn the team’s resident genius into mush with a single smile—you don’t need any more remarks about that, either.

Spencer understands. So when you say don’t, he doesn’t argue. But he doesn't step back, he doesn't even turn away. He stays beside you, hovering like a helicopter, yes, but doesn't move to do anything else. There are things he could do, things he wants to do, but not here. You wouldn’t let him, anyway.

Still, for all the ways you unmake him, Spencer unravels you, too. And knowing that the rest of the team is tangled in the aftermath of the arrest, you let yourself take the only reprieve you’ll allow your hurting self—Him.

“I—chest feels tight—can’t—hard to breathe,” you manage, still hunched forward, half from the weight of it, half so he won’t see the tears streaking hot down your cheeks. When Spencer softens and says, “breathe with me, baby. In for four, okay?” in the loving way of his, you know he sees your tears either way.

You nod, barely, and Spencer thinks, for a fleeting second, that you’ve got a handle on it. That he’s got a handle on it.

Until your whole body tenses, and suddenly, you’re shooting upright, eyes wide and wrong. Your breath stutters into something sharp. “Can’t—” You’re shaking your head and clutching at your chest, fingers twisting into the fabric of your vest.

“I—my chest hurts—it hurts, I—Get it off, get it off, please, take it off—”

Spencer’s already looking around, scanning the scene, mind racing. The unsub is in custody, shoved into the back of a patrol car, but Hotch hasn’t called a close on the case just yet. The scene is still active, officers moving, clearing the last corners, securing evidence. There’s protocol to follow. The unsub could—

But then he hears you. Really hears you.

The way your voice shakes, the way your fingers claw desperately at the straps of your vest, nails scraping against the buckles.

“Please, baby, I—please—”

That’s all it takes.

Spencer doesn’t think about the statistics. Doesn’t think about the 5.1% of criminals who manage to escape police custody, the 2.7% who do it even in handcuffs.

He just moves.

“I’ve got you, baby, I’m getting it off, I—I’ve got you—” he promises, hands already working the straps, unfastening them as quickly as he can. His fingers tremble, fumbling in his rush, in his concern for you, but he gets it, yanking the vest free and tossing it to the ground. “Okay, baby, it’s off, it’s off—breathe for me, sweetheart, can you try—”

You stumble forward a few steps, your breath coming in a little too fast, a little too sharp. The pressure is gone, but the panic isn’t. Not yet. You can feel it still crawling under your skin, weaving its way between your ribs, coiling around your collarbones, clenching hard around your throat. Your body is caught between fight and flight, and flight wins.

You turn away from the flashing lights and move—quick, desperate—until there’s something solid between you and the rest of the world. A hedge at the end of the road. It’s not much, but it’s away. Spencer follows close behind, swiping a bottle of water from a paramedic’s open kit, keeping pace without crowding you.

When you find a patch of shade that feels like solace enough, he automatically steps in front of you and places himself between you and the rest of the crime scene.

It’s cowardly to run, maybe. But Spencer has never made you feel like anything less than whole, anything less than loved. So, he shields you like it’s second nature. He doesn’t care where you have to go to feel safe. He’d follow you to the ends of the earth if you needed him to. He’ll stand guard. He’ll be whatever you need.

“Baby.”

You hold a hand out to stop him before you even realise what you’re doing. He hasn’t even tried to touch you, hasn’t overstepped at all but—God, you don’t know why you did that. You can’t breathe, let alone think. Everything is too much. Your skin feels wrong, your limbs are locked up, your pulse is beating frantically in your ears.

“Why—what’s happening to me?” Your question comes out small and tight. It’s painfully timid and nothing like what you usually sound like. You look up at him through wet lashes and his expression—so full of aching concern—You could sink into him. You would, if you weren’t being held hostage by your own damn body.

“You’re having a panic attack, sweetheart,” Spencer says gently, “we need to slow down your breathing. Do you think you can try that for me?”

“I—I—” You nod, unconvincing, then try again. “Okay. Okay, I’ll try.”

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs. His voice holds something tender, something endless, something just for you. “Can I rub your back? Do you think that would help?”

Even now, he asks. He never assumes, never takes, never crosses a line without making sure it’s one you’re okay with him stepping over. Always the gentleman, Spencer Reid.

“I don’t—” You swallow hard. “Yeah. Yes. Please.”

Spencer’s hand is warm when it finds your back, tracing slow, sweeping passes. The other hand lifts to his vest, unbuckling it in practised motions, letting it fall to the pavement with a dull thud. And then—just as carefully—he pulls you in, lets you collapse against him, cradling your head to his chest.

“You feel my heart, baby?” he asks after some time. Spencer’s chin rests against the top of your head, one hand splayed against your back, the other smoothing over your hair. He feels you nod faintly, where your cheek is pressed to the fabric of his shirt.

“It’s beating just for you, sweet girl,” he says again, fingers tracing slow patterns between your shoulder blades. “Let’s try to match it, okay?”

Another nod, this one a little stronger.

Your eyes are shut, from what Spencer can see. He slows the strokes along your back and starts counting—instinct, habit.

You both stay like that for as long as he thinks you need to. Him, cradling and counting until he settles on approximately 120 beats per minute. Not quite where he wants it to be, but Spencer Reid has never been impatient with you. He knows progress when he sees it.

When he hears movement behind him, he glances back just in time to catch Morgan watching, concerned. Spencer shakes his head—not now—and that’s all Morgan needs before he disappears back into the fray. Spencer turns his attention back to you.

“Feeling better, baby? You want some water? I think it’ll help.”

You would roll your eyes if you had the energy for it. Typical Spencer Reid. The illusion of choice. You huff against him slightly, reluctant to shift from the comfort of his embrace as he hands you the bottle, already uncapped.

“That’s good, sweetheart. There we go.”

You sniffle into his chest after a few weak sips. You hadn’t even realised how dry your throat was.

“Let's go home yeah?” Spencer murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your head while he still has you in his arms. You manage a sluggish hum of agreement.

The rest of the case is a blur. You keep your head down, press your lips into a thin line when concerned glances are thrown your way. Try to steel your voice when you assure Hotch you’re fine to help with the case file. He assigns it to Emily anyway. Spencer keeps his hand firm against the small of your back the whole time. Nobody says anything about it, and you don’t pull away.

On the way home, you keep his hand in your lap. Sometimes intertwining fingers, sometimes giving it a light squeeze. Spencer likes the way you trace the little hearts on his palm the most though. You’re looking out the window for most of the ride, he’s certain you don't even realise you're doing it.

The cushions swallow you whole when you get home, barely making it to the couch before exhaustion drags you under. You don’t even realise Spencer had slipped into the bathroom until he returns minutes later, sleeves rolled up, towel slung over his shoulder. “Ran you a bath, honey.”

He kneels in front of you, hands moving—boots first, then socks. When he reaches for the buttons of your sweat-slicked shirt, there’s nothing clinical about it, nothing but tenderness. He peels back the fabric, undoes your pants with the same gentle efficiency, and you could cry from the softness of it.

The word love just doesn't do Spencer Reid justice. The way he loves you—It’s utter devotion, raw and unfiltered.

You whimper when he sets you down in the bathroom. You don't want to be alone right now.

Does he still think you want that? That you need space?

You don’t.

Your fingers clutch weakly at his shirt, and Spencer stills instantly.

“Stay?”

His expression softens, surprise flickering for only a second before he nods. “Of course, baby. Anything you want.”

Then he undresses, too. You watch as he steps into the water first, sinking down against the porcelain, testing the temperature before looking up at you again.

“Cold?” you ask meekly.

He shakes his head, watching you with that same quiet, unwavering adoration in his eyes. “S’perfect. Just like you,” he says, offering you a hand. You step in, easing down until you’re tucked against his chest, his arms circling you. They make you feel safe in a way you hadn’t all day.

His hand moves in slow, soothing circles along your legs. You have them tucked tight to your chest—not for space, though that's what you hope Spencer assumes. In actuality, you’re still unraveling from the aftermath, still trying to convince your body that the danger has passed.

Spencer starts tracing patterns on the knobs of your knees that you can’t quite decipher—Absentminded, maybe. Intentional, always.

“That was scary,” you admit after a long moment. “I was scared.”

Spencer leans forward slightly to press a lingering kiss to your temple. He tries not to let it show how pained he is from the fragility in your tone. You feel him sigh before he speaks.

“Mmhmm,” he murmurs, “It was, wasn’t it? I was scared too,” he says, lips grazing your damp skin. “But you did so well for me.”

He presses another kiss to the shell of your ear. “So proud of you,” he breathes. “My brave girl.”

You exhale, shakier than you’d like, and lean back into him, eyes slipping shut. Melt is the word. You finally let yourself take it all in. The rise and fall of his chest against your back, the soft sloshing of the water around the both of you, the fingertips kissing your skin in small designs.

That’s when you feel it.

Little hearts, pressed in careful patterns against the slope of your thigh, the slant of your calf, the curve of your hip.

Little hearts everywhere he can touch, little hearts everywhere you can feel.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you so much for reading! likes, comments or reblogs are very much appreciated!

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straightouttherosebush · 3 days ago

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♡Licking Love off of Knives♡

Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Vil Schoenheit, Jamil Viper, Idia Shroud

Synopsis: These guys seem likely to degrade their partner, but how would they do it?

Content Warning: AFAB/Female! Reader, "Queen" used as gender neutral, NSFW themes (Degradation (verbal, sexual, physical), rough sex, vaginal sex, foot play (not necessarily fetish? Like, Vil uses kissing his boots to humiliate reader, idk you decide), bondage (shibari pretty much), oral (male anatomy), I must add that all of the actions happening here are consensual and any BDSM should be practiced with someone you 100% trust and have set boundaries with :D)

♡ Leona seems like the most likely to degrade his partner. Gloved fingers in your mouth or around your neck, squeezing, his mostly clothed body flush against your naked one. Bullying his cock into you while growling in your ear that you're a stupid slut good for nothing but taking his dick, if even that. Don't try to pull away because you're scared of the pain, either. You're fucking lucky, you should be grateful to be hooking up with a prince, of all things. He'll hold you in place and you'll be able to feel his long nails through his gloves as he tries to work himself inside your tight hole. Where the fuck do you think you're going, you pathetic whore? You wanted this. You had the audacity to tease him, after all. Little human cunt unable to handle beastman cock, crying like a little bitch and grunting from the pain of him stretching you out. He thought you were tougher than that! Where is that spunk? All growl and no bite, herbivore?

♡ You aren't getting what you want until Vil's whims are satisfied. This was your first time with him, but he realized that with every insult, you'd get a little... worked up. At least, as far as he could tell. Why else do you flush when he's harsh with you during dance practice? Why else do you clench your legs together as he dissects everything you did wrong and bluntly relays it to you? His mean words are divine, not even vulgar, and mixed with his voice? You are simply obliged to obey. He had his chin tucked into his collar as he looked down on you. His elegant legs were crossed and his eyes glared daggers into yours. Is it so hard to do? Did he expect too much of you? He must have if you are so incompetent as to not know how to properly pose. All he wants you to do is nuzzle up to the foot of his thigh-high boot and kiss it. That's all. He just wants you to worship him and keep a memento of your grovelling, but if you can't do that, maybe you don't deserve his long fingers inside you, hitting that spot inside of you just right as they curl. The moment you lay a kiss onto the toe cap and start kissing your way up the latex to his thigh, he starts smirking. His eyes, sharp as ever, coldly taking in your pathetic visage. As you make your way up to his thigh, your eyes plead with him as you let out a hushed "please, my Queen." He looks at you with squinted eyes and a wry smile, and scoffs. He didn't get that on camera, so let's try that again. For the millionth time. He doesn't think he stuttered, either. Get back down there.

♡ You've been tied up in Jamil's room for 30 minutes now. Masterfully tied red ropes adorned your body as you lay on his bed, legs forced open and arms tied behind your back. He was trying to work, and you were all over him constantly. And since you can't manage yourself around him, this is your punishment. Tut, tut, it's only been thirty minutes. Can't handle that much? Too bad. He still had studying to do and other duties to attend to even after that, so you had better get a grip on yourself quick, lest you be stuck there until Jamil turns in for the night. While he is able to remain focused, he will rarely glance over and flash a conceited smirk at you. Hearing you whimper and beg every so often was music to his ears, but he can't have that impeding him either. Your incessant whining is also now becoming a distraction. He suggests you cease it before he gags you. And that he does. With your own wet panties. Scarlet, just for him. Can you taste yourself? See how desperate and stupid you are for him? How absolutely cockdrunk you are and he hasn't even let you have it in weeks? So weak willed... and only for him, right? Come on, admit it. This is the only time he wants you to open your whore mouth. Oh wait! You can't! Oh well. But then he hears a few knocks on his door. Thankfully, he locked it, and you're so lucky he did. What's that? Kalim is asking for Jamil to start on dinner and wants you to dine with them? Ugh, fine. He supposes he can untie you and let you partake in the privilege of dining with the rest of the dorm at his side. But he does not forget, nor does he easily forgive.

Idia isn't typically the meanest, usually he's too meek to be so cruel. Especially not to his doting partner, may the Seven forbid it. However, right now? He's in a game lobby talking about your lackluster "under-the-desk" support. Ever since he caught onto you liking his more arrogant, mean side, he has been using it like crazy. The more he insults the use of your teeth, the more sopping wet you become. You cost his team a game because he was carrying and had to stop you from biting down on him. Way to go, jackass. You better not be touching yourself either, you don't deserve that. The fact that you can hardly see his face from under the desk works wonders for his confidence. He could never say these things to your face. Sure, to any of the normies outside, he probably could. He'd backtrack, but he could still say it at first. But when he's locked in, he's locked the fuck IN. The tips of his hair were still flickering pink, but his voice sounded rougher and a bit angrier than usual. Usually, loser virgin Idia would be shooting blanks by now. God can't you do your job right? You're not even playing, you have one job, and He's nowhere close to finishing. He doesn't care if your jaw hurts, he can't just reach down there, grab your hair, and fuck your face in the middle of a match. Can't. Love to, but can't.

Hello once again!!! I've had these headcanons for a bit so I worked them into little scenarios and I hope you guys enjoyed them! I put actual research into this chapter because as much as I am a degradee, I kinda felt like I was missing something. :>

I really don't know what came over me while writing Vil's part, I blacked tf OUT. I was thinking about the vampire Vil design while writing it because great GOOGLY MOOGLY, y'know?

I MIGHT also do a post on the characters I think would praise/worship their partners. Idk, heavy might.

Bye bye little shrimpies! ROSEY ♡

♡MASTERLIST HERE♡

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nobodysnowhere · 3 days ago

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Studying in Ramshackle (or trying to)

A How-To Guide, to driving your reasonable friends crazy with your constant chaos

Summary: After finally convincing your friends to form a study group, you meet up at Ramshackle, to do as study groups do… Cause an unimaginable amount of mischief, shenanigans, and maybe do something productive on the side.

Cast: First years, gn reader

Notes: Studying hits hard, Procrastination hits harder. This can be read as a continuation of Time sensitive cram session, but it does have to be

⊹ ︶⏝⭒ ⊹ ⭒⏝︶ ⊹

Ramshackle Lounge was surprisingly quiet for once, considering how many people were currently there. The only thing you can hear is the scratching of pens on paper, the ticking of the grandfather clock, and surprisingly quiet circuitry, that’s letting Ortho function as he does.

That quiet thought is interrupted too soon as Ace lets out a frustrated groan and drops his head on top of his work material.

“That’s it. I give up. For how long do you guys think Riddle will collar me when I inevitably fail?” he says, letting his frustration seep into his voice.

“We barely started studying though?” you look at the clock, it has barely even been an hour. “Don’t forget we still have to read through the books both Riddle and Vil left for us to review.”

“That’s why I started with those, this way I can prove that I studied.” Epel adds as he lifts the book he’s currently taking notes on.

“Can’t we at least take a little break? It’s not like it’ll set us back by much.” Ace continues to complain, while simultaneously slumping deeper onto the desk.

At this Grim decides to join the conversation in agreement with Ace, as he too slumps over his notes.

Deuce seems to agree with the duo

“If all you INDOLENT FOOLS can do is complain feel free to leave, but let the rest of us study in peace.” Sebek loudly announces. Making you all flinch at his sudden addition to the discussion.

“How about we leave it up to a vote then?” you offer, hoping to keep some semblance of peace before this ends in a screaming match, or worse a battle within the Lounge.

Sebek looks like he wants to complain, but before he can Ortho buts in and adds his two cents. “Research proves that taking purposeful breaks every once in a while increases your energy, productivity, and your ability to focus.”

You all look expectantly at Sebek. He takes a moment to think about it before he stiffly nods. „Fine. We‘ll vote on it.“

⊹ ︶⏝⭒ ⊹ ⭒⏝︶ ⊹

In the end everyone but Sebek voted for the brake.

Sebek stares at Jack in quiet disbelief. „Out of everyone here, I would have expected you to agree with me. They won’t get any studying done if all they do is laze around.“

Jack nods in agreement. „That is true but the way they are now they wouldn’t get anything done either. It is important to acknowledge the usefulness of brakes in moderation.“

A little miffed Sebek finally concedes and puts his pen to rest.

As if coming back alive, Ace practically jumps out of his seat and closes his book with a little too much force, startling you so much that you end up falling off your chair.

„Dude, a warning would have been nice.“ you complain, as you pull yourself back up, by the edge of the desk.

As you sit back down in your chair you look at Ace waiting on him to apologize.

Quite frankly, you should have known better than to expect him to apologize, because as soon as you look at him burst out into laughter, but not only him. No, no. That would have been easier to cope with. Instead, almost everyone looks about ready to join him.

So of course like the mature person you are, you take the high road…

Of also making Ace fall off his chair.

As he falls he tries to grab at anything to catch his fall with, sadly for him, everything seems just a smidgen out of reach so he ends up looking like an idiot, flailing around with his arms for no apparent reason.

Ace lands on the floor with a thud, that seems to open the floodgates to everyone starting to snicker at his misery.

„What was that for? Just because you’re clumsy doesn’t mean you need to punish me for it.“ Ace yelps in pain as he rubs his side to soothe the ache.

„What was what for? I didn’t do anything.“ you answer innocently. Raising your arms in faux surrender, while holding back a smug grin.

Ace looks around for support.

Grim is full-on laughing at Ace, dibbling over because of how much he is, even pointing at him as while continues to laugh his heart out.

Deuce at least covers his chuckling with a hand over his mouth. He shakes his head, denying having seen you pushing Ace off his chair.

Epel doesn’t seem to be fairing any better. Grinning at his quick downfall. „Don’t look at me. I didn’t see anyone do anything.“

“They literally pushed me! How could none of you have seen it?!” Ace throws his arms up in exasperation.

„I have to agree with Epel on this one.“ you hear Ortho chirp up. He, not unlike Grim, isn’t trying to hide his laughter, though he isn’t as extreme as the little Monsters.

With utter disbelief Ace looks towards where both Jack and Sebek are sitting, giving them a pleading glance.

Jack shakes his head, he‘s a lot better at hiding his expression in comparison to the others, but you can clearly see that he too finds this amusing. „I wasn’t paying attention.“ is all he has to say.

Sebek tsks once, rolling his eyes before looking away from Ace. „I‘m not involving myself in this senseless squabble between humans.“, he says as if he isn’t holding back a small smirk himself.

„I hate all of you.“ Ace says before pulling himself back onto his chair.

“Apparently not enough to stop hanging out with us.” is all you have to reply with before the group descends into mindless chatter.

⊹ ︶⏝⭒ ⊹ ⭒⏝︶ ⊹

You nod your head, growing more tired by the minute, halfheartedly listening to Sebek ramble, as he continues going on a tangent about how amazing Fae are and how great Malleus is.

Ace pokes you with his elbow to get your attention. You lean closer to him to let him whisper into your ear.

“For how long exactly has he been going on for now? Doesn’t he ever get tired?”

You take a quick glance at Sebek who is still very much in his own world of admiration for his young master. “I don’t think he minds all that much.” you reply in the same way.

You continue listening to Sebek fanboy about his young master until you’re hit with a sudden burst of inspiration. “I think I have a fun Idea. Should I do it?” you ask Ace.

He nods at you. “Anything to get him to stop talking about how amazing his young master is for even a couple of minutes.”

You smirk at him. Not elaborating on what you’re trying to say.

Before he could stop you, you right yourself back up again and interrupt Sebeks’ never-ending speech.

“Did you guys know that most of the third years have a fan club? It’s quite entertaining to watch when they inevitably start fighting each other.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Sebek looks at you confused and insulted that you would interrupt him for no apparent reason.

“Oh, I’ve heard of that. Weren’t a bunch of them sent to detention because a fight broke out in the courtyard?” Deuce joins in. Tilting his head as he tries to remember what started the fight.

“They were fighting about which Housewarden was the best Leader. It got heated pretty quickly.” Epel helpfully points out.

“I’m surprised none of you three were involved.” Grim points at Jack, Sebek, and Epel.

“Pah, as if I would waste my time on such flimsy squabbles. At that time I was training with Silver. So I had no time to join.” he loudly proclaims.

Jack shrugs his shoulders. “I know who I think is the best leader, so I don’t care what other’s opinions are.”

Epel scoffs at the insinuation. “You wouldn’t catch me participating in something like that. I respect Vil but I know he can fight his own battles.”

“I wasn’t referring to Vil but if you say so.” Grim says as he shakes his head at the boy.

He seemingly starts thinking about something before he excitedly looks at you. “Do you think the great Grim has his own fan club?”

You think for a bit. Considering the different outcomes you could cause depending on what you say. After thoroughly considering your options you nod.

“Yeah. I don’t see why you wouldn’t have one.” you smile at him. You for one think that you and the Ghosts of Ramshackle count as a great fanclub.

Deuce looks at you a little befuddled, before disregarding your weird statement as you not wanting to hurt Grims' feelings. “Whose club do you think is the largest?

“It’s obviously my young masters.” Sebek proudly declares.

The table lets out a collective sigh of exasperation. Some things will never change you guess.

“Actually, it’s my brother.” Ortho says while shaking his head at Sebek.

“WHAT?! How?” the entire table erupts in shock. “There’s no way that’s true.”

“His fan club has a great online presence. It’s the best way to measure the size of something like this. My brother’s fans for one don’t like face-to-face confrontations.” he argues.

You nod your head in agreement. It does make sense. You’ve seen some of the threads Idia fans posted to defend him against some uneducated people.

“Shouldn’t it be Vil then? He’s the only one really famous outside of NRC.” Grim says. Unknowingly starting a fandom war inside Ramshackles Lounge.

Weren’t you guys supposed to be studying?

⊹ ︶⏝⭒ ⊹ ⭒⏝︶ ⊹

Somehow the fighting stopped and you were able to continue studying. You pass Deuce some notes for the history of magic before he thanks you for them.

“Seriously. I’m so glad we can exchange study guides without needing to owe someone any slimy favors.” Deuce shudders at the memory, Ace and Grim following suit.

“Nobody forced you three into signing a one-sided contract with Azul of all people.” Jack interjects, voicing his disapproval of their reckless action.

“Well, it’s not our fault this place is filled with scammers.” Grim replied, miffed at being reminded of that tortures week.

“Wait don’t tell me you guys actually fell for that.” Epel joins, bewildered at how they could fall for something like that. “I remember Vil cryptically warning us about that. When I first heard about it I almost immediately figured out that it was a scam.”

“Well not everyone is that lucky.” Ace snips back. Annoyed about that coming back to bite him.

“Does that mean you three were running around doing the legwork for Azul for an entire week? Ohh how I wish I could have seen that.” Ortho chuckles at the thought.

“Did you also have those sea anemones on top of your head?” he adds.

“Oh, my seven please tell me you took a picture of them like that.” Epel excitedly asks you.

You chuckle as you pull out the Ghost camera. “As a matter of fact, I did.”

But before you could show him you were quickly tackled by a very frantic trio.

Grim hopped onto your lap taking the camera out of your hands, Ace stopped you from going after the Beast as he went to Deuce to delete any and all of the incriminating photos.

“Hey. Give that back.” “In one second. Once everything’s been cleaned out.”

While the trio is so focused on keeping you from reaching your camera, Jack shows the rest a picture he took on his phone.

The three on the other side of the table start laughing, which gets the trio’s attention.

They slowly look over to them. “What are you guys laughing at?” one of them asks while slowly walking towards the other side of the table.

“Oh, nothing really. Just some funny sea jokes.” One of them replies while the group of them walks in the other direction.

They all start to circle the desk before suddenly starting a sprint out of the lounge, closely followed by the trio.

Your camera lies abandoned on the ground. You pick it up again. They did indeed delete the pictures of themselves with the sea anemones, luckily for you and unlucky for them, you have your favorites backed up on your phone.

You look outside where the guys are chasing after each other. “So much to piling through with studying.”

⊹ ︶⏝⭒ ⊹ ⭒⏝︶ ⊹

The results of the midterms were finally announced. Somehow. By the grace of the grate Seven. You all passed.

Ace, Deuce, and Grim celebrate their barely passing scores.

You watch on as your friends one by one get pulled into the celebrations. Regardless of how enthusiastic they were about joining you for studying, it’s clear that they all enjoyed spending that time together.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x you #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x mc #twisted wonderland #ace trapolla x reader #deuce spade x reader #jack howl x reader #epel felmier x reader #twst ortho #sebek zigvolt x reader #twst grim #gn reader #twst first years

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