#this was because earlier they felt that i forgotten them BUT NO. NO I FUCKING MISS THEM. POKEMON BOY BELIEVED IN ME ASDDHADJFHSDJKGHDHSDKGS

[jils-things]

im so overwhelmed with emotions rn /pos

[puppym3]

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

[enigmaris]

Reading a lot of DPxDC fics lately, heres my take on the Danny is Damian's twin AU:

Danny was injured to near death and left for dead by the League as a young boy. Ra's only wanted one heir and Danny was less bloodthirsty than Damian, so it was decided that Danny had to go.

Danny is found and taken to a hospital in Illinois, barely alive. He is saved and wakes up with basically no memories of where he was from and speaking a rare dialect of arabic that none of the cops investigating his case can identify. What words Danny does know in english are concerning so the cops figure Danny was being held by some sort of murder, death cult.

The investigation runs cold and Danny is sent to foster care once his injuries heal. He is then adopted by the fentons and moves to Amity Park. As he grows the only clear memories he has of his past is another boy his age who he felt safe with. He knows the other boy is important to him but not why. He cant even really remember his face, certainly not his name. Danny always felt shitty that he couldnt remember the other boy because if he did, then the cops would have rescued him from the murder death cult too. Instead the other boy is presumably there and getting hurt all the time like Danny was.

Danny gets his powers like normal at 14 and decides that now that he has superpowers he absolutely has to save that other boy. Sam and Tucker help him gather clues, he starts to remember a bit more. He remembers the word ahki and realizes that the other boy is his brother!! Which just really enhances Dannys need to save him from the murder death cult. Eventually Tucker finds a picture of Damian Wayne and Danny is like thats him. Thats my brother.

Wait.

Bruce Wayne is his brothers dad???

Bruce Wayne is a rich fruitloop like Vlad obviously, so he is probably a member of the murder cult. Danny has to rescue his brother from the illuminati.

Cue Sam going to a socialite dinner in gotham much to her parents delight. Getting close to Damian by talking about animal rights, slipping him some sleeping pills in his vegan food. Tucker hacking into the gala and causing a commotion. Danny lugging an unconscious Damian out of the Gala and into the GAV ( no, his parents dont know why he borrowed the car or where he is).

Damian wakes up and immediately tries to attack Danny thinking hes a clone. Danny is like woah shit no its me! Its your brother. Damian is like Danyal is dead. Danny is like obviously not. Now chill out im rescuing you from the cult.

Damian, who has been secrectly mourning his twin for years, has never heard anyone call the League of Assassins a cult. He has to reevaluate a lot of things while Danny drives the GAV out of Gotham as fast as he can. Danny explains his whole backstory and how he is sorry he didnt come to save Damian earlier, his memories were gone but he had never forgotten how important Damian was to him. Damian doesnt do emotions on a good day and is unable to handle that like a normal person.

"Father isnt part of the cult, Danyal."

"Hes a billionaire from Gotham, of course he is!"

Damian who has fought many rich people from gotham, all of whom were evil, tries to find an explanation that isnt 'our dad is batman'. Danny isnt listening to any of it, promising Damian that he will be safe from the murder cult in Amity.

Damian eventually gets out that their mother was in the cult and their father didn't know about them. Danny pulls the GAV over and looks at Damian.

"Did i just kidnap you for no reason?"

"It was a kind gesture at least Danyal."

"Fuck. I just kidnapped bruce wayne's kid in the middle of a gala, am i super villain now?"

"Not if you take me home. Father will understand Danyal."

"I dont want to go to jail!"

Damian gives Danny the address to Wayne Manor and Danny drives to Bristol.

When they walk inside Damian now has to explain the whole 'had a dead brother i never told you about' thing to a less than amused batfam.

Danny introduces himself to Bruce and says that he has an adopted family back in illinois, but that he would be happy to get to know Bruce, also sorry about the kidnapping i dont normally do that i thought you were part of the illumimati and i had to rescue my brother.

Bruce just hopes this kid is normal.

(Hint: he's not)

[nugwon]

ask and you shall receive —

i’ve been so torn between jungwon and sunghoon like . both of them have this magnetism that i cannot describe

anyway, i can’t stop thinking abt a smutty scenario where the reader finds herself having to choose between the both of them and simply cannot do it so jungwon and sunghoon are like “ok, fuck that, don’t choose.”

like both guys are so down bad that they’d share the reader with each other if it meant that it made her happy ??

idk if that made sense ahshdjsj i could go into more detail but i’m feeling self conscious hiding behind my hands rn

— @yourislandgirl

💌 oh my god yes!!! you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place and as bad as they don’t want to share you they will. that’s how bad they want you 😪🤞🏽. gng shit fr

you’re looking between the both of them—they’d almost started fight just from the topic of you. “serious you’re making me pick?” you asked them both. one of the hardest decisions to date, you had to choose between two boys you liked and adored and… you didn’t know how.

“me or him,” sunghoon grunts, “if you know what’s best for you you’d pick me.” jungwon rolled his eyes at sunghoons comment. you were silent, hands on your hips as you really had to think about it. “well.. guys i can’t.. why can’t i just have you both?” you laughed trying to ease the tension in the room.

then it’s like there brains lit up at once. “deal.” they both said, coming to a conclusion because of your joke, but that’s what it was. a joke. “we can share you.. and if we’re sharing you that means.. you can have the best of both worlds.” jungwon stepped closer, sunghoon following suit.

“and i haven’t forgotten about what you said earlier—.” he chuckled. “taking us both at once, oh y/n. is one at a time not enough for you baby?” your skin ran cold, chills running down your spine. what the hell did you just create. “they say being stuck between a rock and a hard place is a bad thing,” he murmurs, smirking. “but you seem to love it.”

you instantly felt hands on your body, one running down your chest and the other down to your ass. there was a sense of possession, jealousy—“of she breaks its because of me.” sunghoon snarled. “don’t flatter yourself, fuck-face.” you mentally facepalmed. knowing you were in for one hell of a ride right now.

you sat down on the bed, deciding. ‘indulge, yolo’. kissing the both of them, letting their hands travel your body while each of yours did the same for them. each one of them just has hard as the other—probably won’t be able to take both at once—and they knew that. “we’ll make a way.” you muttered, jungwons hand slipping into your shorts while sunghoons grabbed your breast. rubbing your nipple in steady motions while jungwon spread your lips apart.

jungwon turned your face towards him. “since we’re doing this, i’ll make sure you cum harder than you ever have.

sunghoon, turning your face towards him. “and i’ll make sure he doesn’t leave you too needy. i heard his finger work when they want to.”

for them to have beef with each other, working together seemed to be the easiest thing. the way they moved. like this was planned ahead—sunghoon moving behind you while jungwon shifted in front of you. the three of you easily undressing and touching you. all the attention was on you—“suck me off while he does the hard work hm?” sunghoon whispers next to your ear. you smiled, turning around.

ass up for jungwon, leaking cunt on full display for him while sunghoon leaned against your headboard. biting harshly on his lip while waiting for you to take him. jungwons hands rested on your hips, lining himself up and pushing into you with ease. his cock dragging against your tight, velvety walls—moans leaving both of your throats.

meanwhile, sunghoons cock rested on your tongue. chest rising and falling as you swallows him whole, his hand resting on the side of your head as he guided you up and down. bobbing your head at the pace jungwon was going. “make it last, as soon as he’s done—im next.” he warned, guttural moans leaving his lips at the ruthless rhythm that flowed through the room.

[sacredsorceress]

RAAAHHHH I LOVE YOUR WOLVERINE ROOMMATE WORKS, okay thats it i wish u a great day for feeding us 🙏

AHHHH thank you so much!! I'm so happy that you're enjoying them!! All of the love on the posts and in my inbox is making my heart so full <3 Enjoy these hcs..

°☆Roommate!Worst!Wolverine HCs☆°

ask box | logan howlett masterlist

Logan is not the type of person to do dishes as soon as he’s done eating, but he will do them, just… later. Once he’s done he’ll leave them in the sink “to soak” or whatever and then go about his day. But do not be mistaken: he hasn’t forgotten about them. If Logan hears you go into the kitchen, turn on the faucet and put soap on the sponge, he’ll call from the other room to “knock it off! don’t touch ‘em.”

Even your own dishes, he’ll whistle at you to get your attention and shake his head, ushering you to go sit down and do something else because “this is his job, and have a little faith in (him), will you?”

He’ll do them at night before he goes to bed so you wake up to a fresh kitchen.

Hate to say it, but seeing the state of him in DP&W, he’s probably messy.

In the beginning of your arrangement, he’d be very conscious of his messes: Logan would clean up his dishes the second he was done, wipe down wet spots the condensation from his beer bottles left behind, grab his laundry from the dryer the moment it was done-

But naturally as he got more comfortable he wouldn’t race to do those things- not out of disrespect for you, but because he wasn’t scared of you tossing him to the curb because he didn’t put the salt shaker back.

He’d always clean up before you noticed though and if you had to ask him to do something (like if you were doing your own laundry and noticed his clothes in the dryer) he’d feel so guilty and be on his feet in a second.

Logan would 100%, absolutely buy ingredients you didn’t put on the list so you could bake.

Whether it was brownies, cookies, bread or something fancier, you had baked him this thing one time and he has had a consistent craving for it ever since. However, Logan wasn’t just going to flat out ask you to make them- that would be rude- he wanted you to bake them of your own accord. And is it really that wrong if he nudged you towards the inclination to bake it by having eggs on hand you didn’t need? Don’t think so.

“What’s that smell?” He asked, coming in the door, knowing perfectly well what it was.

“Oh I figured I’d bake some of those cookies,” You said, wiping your hand on a dishrag. “We had some eggs on hand I didn’t want to go to waste… you like them right? I can’t eat them all myself.”

He felt like a kid on Christmas morning.

Logan would never have guests, but he didn’t mind if you did. If anything, despite his grumpy demeanour, he would get such a kick out of you having your friends over.

“I can’t believe you’re fucking the wolverine.” Your friend said, taking a sip from her glass of wine.

Logan, who had been laying in bed reading the paper from yesterday, sat up.

“Oh my god!” You gasped. “Stop talking so loud. We’re not fucking! We’re friends!”

“Don’t act like I didn’t see you ogling him earlier when his shirt rode up.” She said in a hushed voice, wagging her finger at you. “If he asked, you’d be all over him in a second.”

Logan raised his eyebrow, listening- waiting on what you said next.

You frantically glanced down the hallway that led to his bedroom.

“I’m going to kill you!”

Whenever you told him you were having friends over, Logan would make it a point to stay home. He’d wait until the end of the night when your friends’ speech had started to slur and then swoop in to save the day, offering to drive your friends home.

Did he care about everyone’s safety? Sure. But mostly he just wanted brownie points with you.

“C’mon, here’s your purse.” Logan sighed, picking your particularly drunk friend off the floor. “Let’s get you home.”

“Y/n, I think I’m in love with your roommate.”

If she hadn’t been your friend, you would’ve felt a searing jealously burn through you. Instead, you had enough alcohol in your system that you felt like air. With a giggle you leaned your weight on Logan, jabbing your finger in her face.

“Hey, he’s mine!” You hiccuped. “Get in line.”

And that was worth Logan sitting in his room the entire night; even during that ten minutes where he had to listen to your friend go on and ON about how she’d just kill to sleep with the Deadpool.

If you were drunk, Logan would leave a glass of water and pain relievers on your bedside table, ready for you when you woke up.

When Logan came home to you having fallen asleep on the couch he’d do one of two things:

1. He’d shut the television off and urge you up from the couch, holding you as you shuffled your way to bed.

“C’mon, honey, bed time.”

2. He’d grab the blanket from his room and drape it over you, tucking the edges into the couch and pushing away the coffee table so you didn’t hit it when you woke up.

He’d have to physically restrain himself from giving you a kiss on the forehead. Instead he’d settle for lovingly shaking his head at you, triple checking the locks and heading to bed himself.

He would NOT check the mail. Ever.

He's so lucky he pays rent to you because if it weren't for you and your religious checking of the mail box, the two of you would be screwed.

Logan would go onto the sidewalk or up to the roof to smoke. Regardless of your feelings about smoking, he wouldn't want to hurt you by having you ingest his second-hand smoke. Maybe it was the fact that he would never have to worry about getting ill, or how madly in love with you he was, but your safety and health was his utmost priority. You were fragile. Logan wouldn't be able to take it if you got sick because of him.

Built in handy-man.

God forbid something happens to your car. Now you have to watch Logan, shirtless, on a hot, summer day climb beneath the car to fix it; grunting as he slides beneath it and back out so you can hand him the next tool. Oh nooo!!!!

No, but really. Leaky sink? He's on it. Wobbly chair leg? He's the man for the job. Logan would actually be offended if you called a plumber or repairman.

"What're you doing?" He'd ask, seeing you on the phone. "Gimme that." Pulling the phone to his ear, he'd swat you away. "Forget what she said. I'm handling it. What? Yes, I'm sure."

When you weren't home in the winter, Logan would turn off the heat and pop open a window, getting in some fresh air.

Giving Logan a "Best Roommate Ever" mug for his birthday. He'd smile so wide- something he only did for you- and proceed to start every day with it. He was hoping that someday, though, he could upgrade from roommate to something more.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Thank you for reading! My ask box is always open to chat about our favourite MCU guys <3

[luvyeni]

p. pervbestfriend!han jisung x fem bodied reader | warnings: pure filth, plusy fucking ( poor bear ), panty sniffing, mentions of fleshlight, jisung jerking off to the sound of your voice | words: 0.6k ~ (630) ㆍ₊⊹

request: please do a perv han jisung , your perv series are so good !!

authors note. i hope you like this 🩷!!... it's something😳 i hope it's not too much...

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

He was gross , he knew it— this was on of your favorite plushies; the one he bought you for your birthday when you were kids, he was sure you’d forgotten about it, he’s bought you so many; surely you would miss this.

But as he stared at the plushy in his hand he thought about your voice earlier on the phone— the way you whined about the missing stuffed bear, claiming you must’ve accident thrown it away, he could hear your voice shaking like you were about to cry; he couldn’t help but palm his hard cock over his sweats, biting his lip as you complained.

After he hung up he pulled out the stuff bear— the poor bear had suffered so much since he took it almost a month ago from your house. The first night he spent an hour rutting his hard cock like a dog in head against the toy a pair of your dirty panties he also took, pressed against his nose as he forced himself to cum over and over soiling the bear with his sticky cum, he did this over and over until he couldn’t do it anymore, the outside was too messy— but that didn’t stop him.

The next time he found himself using the bear is after he came across a video on twitter— of a guys cutting open the middle of plushy, then it cut to him fucking his cock into plushy— that made a lightbulb appear over the boy head, and he soon found himself doing the same, fucking the freshly bear, a photo of you in his hand , the feeling of the stuffed toy had his eyes rolling back drooling, wishing it was you he was emptying his 3rd load of sticky cum into, and not this stupid bear.

And then there’s now, the bear is all worn down, covered in stains that even the washer couldn’t fix, but still it was yours, a pocket pussy that he recently stuffed into hole, giving it a whole new feeling, bouncing it on his cock as you tell him about the recent loss of the favorite panties and how you feel like you’re going crazy because all your favorite things are going missing; first the bear, then your favorite black panties— now it’s your favorite red ones; you could’ve sworn you left in your hamper. “I feel like im losing it sungie.”

He wanted to whimper at the nickname, but he bit his lip, letting you vent, more focused on fucking up into the toy, the pocket pussy filled with his cum, coating his cock as he fucked himself dumb to the sound of your voice wishing it was you. He was gonna cum again, he felt it. “fuck!” he cursed spilling into the toy, pulling out to soil the outside once again. “you okay jisung.”

He hummed coming down from his high. “im okay.” He said, his chest glistening with sweat abdomen covered in his sticky substance. “but I have to go, I hope you find your things.” You hummed back, wishing a good bye before you hung up, tossing his phone to the side, picking up the dirty red panties to his nose, getting hard once again. “sh-shit.”

Maybe he’d return the panties and by you a new bear, saying you must’ve left them at his place when you spent the night— and claiming the bear was just a random gift, cause of course he couldn’t give you this one back, this one was his now, the scent of you long gone, but it still reminded him of you.

His poor dumb best friend, who he loved so much and dreamt of filling to brim with his cum, much like your stuffed toy he bought you when you were kids.

©️LUVYENI

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Cheshire behind the cut; “the one where Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Do you know what subspace and sub drop are?” Tim asks. 

“Uh . . . no?” Kon says, then frowns a little as he remembers–“You were talking about me dropping something when I was, like, all out of it before, right? So like–is it something with that?” 

“Yes,” Tim says. The way he’s petting Kon’s hair sort of–changes, a little, and Kon gets this weird little thought that it’s suddenly kinda more like Tim’s petting him for himself, more than anything else. Like, as a little–tic, or something, that he’s using to keep his focus. So that’s . . . weird, kinda. Yeah. 

Kon doesn’t even know where that thought came from, really, but . . . 

He’d like to be something Tim could use for that, he thinks, and bites the inside of his lip as he feels his skin heat up over that thought. 

“Did you feel different, when you were subbing?” Tim asks carefully. It’s his “assessing my teammate’s psychological condition” voice again, and also pretty obviously an “I know the answer to this question but I don’t know if you know the answer to this question” kind of question. 

“Yeah,” Kon says, and shrugs a little. “Like–I usually do, when it’s, you know. Good. I just get, uh–a little weird sometimes, I guess? Sorry.” 

Tim frowns. 

“Do you feel . . . mm. Detached? Lightheaded? Or emotional, maybe?” he asks, still careful. It is absolutely another “I know but I want to know if you know” question. Like, for absolute friggin’ certain it is. “When it’s–good, I mean.” 

“Yeah,” Kon says, because he feels all that and a whole lot of other things besides, when it’s good. And even more when it’s this good, really, including a few things that would be sorta embarrassing to admit to and a few things that would be sorta mortifying to admit to. He doesn’t really know why Tim’s asking any of this, but the guy’s asked him weirder shit for less reason, so it’s whatever. “Um. Is that, like . . . I mean, that happens to me sometimes, yeah. Just didn't know it was like, a thing? You know, like–with a name and all.” 

“But you do feel that way?” Tim asks, still just barely frowning. It makes Kon a little bit worried, like maybe it’s a bad thing and he’s–well, it kinda is a bad thing, he guesses. Like . . . definitely not a safe one, even if it makes him feel, like . . . 

Well. Safe, he guesses. 

“Yeah, I mean–I guess I do?” Kon says, and shrugs again. It’s a little more awkward this time, maybe, but it feels like a stupid thing to be evasive about or whatever. “I mean, like I said, I just get a little weird and all. Like, I try not to, think I kinda freaked Wonder Girl out once or twice that way. And like, she said it was okay, but . . .” 

But he hadn’t felt okay about it. Like–very much he had not felt okay about it. He’d felt like a problem, and like he was being weird and selfish and too fucking much and she was maybe finally gonna get sick of him being too much and– 

. . . wait, Kon thinks, and frowns a little himself. He does usually try not to get so, like . . . weird, yeah. But like . . . did he try not to get weird this time? He doesn’t, like . . . remember, if he really . . . 

“You try not to feel like that during the sex, or you try not to feel like that during the aftercare?” Tim asks, which seems like such a bizarre little thing to even bother caring about and kinda makes Kon feel . . . not weird again, but . . . a little . . . lighter, maybe. Like . . . somehow. 

He can’t help thinking about how goddamn fucking good Tim is at Domming, and just how quick he and Bernard had both rattled off their hard no’s and safewords and everything at the start, and how neither of them’s forgotten any of his or acted like they were stupid or annoying, and how much they both talk–how much they both talk during the actual sex, even–and how, like . . . 

When Tim safeworded earlier it was just a thing, and not a thing. 

And neither Tim or Bernard’s gotten freaked out by him getting weird or getting . . . weirder, even. 

So that’s . . . something that Kon can’t help thinking about right now, for whatever reason. 

“Um,” he says, not sure exactly what the fuck he’s feeling about . . . all that shit he can’t help thinking about, he guesses. Just . . . all of that. “Dunno what ‘aftercare’ means either. What’s, uh–that one?” 

It’s probably just something else he already does and just didn’t know had an actual name, Kon figures. “Aftercare” he guesses sounds like something he’d do after, like, the typical morning-after walk-of-shame home–okay, the morning-after flight-of-shame, and also he has zero shame either way so it’s whatever–so maybe it’s something about dealing with the kinda, like–hangover kinda thing that he gets, usually, or just the hangover thing itself, even, maybe that’s a thing that actually isn’t just–

“That's the part where everyone checks in with each other and makes sure no one's upset,” Tim says, and Kon . . . blinks, very slowly. The–what? 

“Uh . . . upset about what?” he asks, and belatedly tries to make the question jokey by adding, “I mean, I’m definitely upset your dick’s not in me right now, but that’s just me being a greedy fuck, you know?” 

“Ngh,” Tim mutters under his breath, his fingers very briefly tightening in Kon’s hair, and then lets out a doors-blowing exhalation. “Upset about how the scene went. Sometimes people talk about what they liked and what they might wanna do differently next time; sometimes it's just making sure everyone's comfortable and gets some food and water in them before they fall asleep and wake up feeling gross.” 

Kon–blinks, again. Remembers Tim coaxing him into drinking the water bottle and feeding him the protein bar bite by bite and not even like a come-on, and even kind of the thing with bringing him the candy, and–there’s a third plate of breakfast on that tray, too. Like . . . that Bernard brought to him. 

Oh, he thinks, and feels weird.

[s0fter-sin]

nik finding out ghost’s father is still alive

he teases out personal information from him over years of careful dedication; always knowing when to back off, always knowing when ghost needs him to push just that little more so he can free himself of his own memories

it’s not always important; sometimes it’s little things like preferring full fat milk for his tea or that he enjoys morning runs with his back to the sunrise. that he prefers to sit in an armchair than a couch and he hates the feel of cotton balls but endures it anyway

it takes a while before he gets to the deep things. the tragic things. broken plates. snake infested beds. dead prostitutes in toilet stalls

all with one man at the centre of them

ghost isn’t shy about his opinion of his old man; he knew he was a cowardly, addicted bastard who stood up for what he believed in only so long as the person he was standing against was weaker than him. he tells nik how close he came to killing him one night when he found him passed out on the couch; foaming spit and vomit all around him. he tells him how much he wished he knew then what he knows now; how he could’ve killed him with a toothpick if he just learned earlier

and he tells him that even unconscious, even when grew bigger than him, when he was stronger than him, ghost was still too afraid of him to try

he tells him around a shared cigarette that he got the call about his cancer just after he enlisted; how bitter he felt that he wouldn’t be around to watch him suffer and wither away. and it’s with a sour laugh that he tells him it was a few years after his first deployment that he got the call that he was in remission

“bastard couldn’t even give me that much,” he scoffs and stares at the smouldering butt long enough that nik takes it from him before he can snuff it out on his skin. “know the funny part of all this? i’ve killed hundreds of men. i know how to use more weapons than i can count- i’m the fuckin’ ghost…

“and i’m still fuckin’ scared of him.”

silence falls and nik sits in it; in the cruelty and discomfort of a man’s fear. he thinks of an old wooden home with its little chapel at the end of the yard. he thinks of silent dinner tables and repeated prayers over the crack of a belt. he thinks of the weight of a bible clutched in his hands and how it never eased the heat of his blood dripping down his back

he thinks and lights another cigarette and pretends ghost’s hand isn’t shaking when he offers it to him. because that’s all he can do

for now

-

months pass and nik does ghost a favour by acting like he’s forgotten their conversation on the roof despite them both knowing it’s bullshit. you don’t just forget sharing something like that; the shame of admitting and the hatred of knowing are too strong for something as merciful as forgetting

but they don’t talk about it again

months pass, missions blur together except for the ones that really don’t and it’s been a while since nik was in country when he slides up beside ghost as he oversees recruit training

he doesn’t say anything; just lets ghost feel his presence, conveniently from behind so he can slip something in his hands held behind his back before he steps up beside him. they watch the repetitive drills and the repetitive mistakes until ghost barks at them to fuck off or he’ll make them run until they puke then make them keep running

he waits for the last of them to huff and puff their way to the showers before bringing his hands to the front and unfolding the paper nik gave him

he doesn’t get past the first line before he stills

ghost forces his head to turn, eyes reluctantly dragging away from the paper to nik who stands waiting expectantly

“a gift,” nik says simply. “it does not bode well to have a haunted ghost, yes?”

he doesn’t let himself deflate the way his body wants; he keeps his back straight and shoulders wide and lets out a carefully controlled breath. “it last long?”

“oh yes,” he nods with a wide smile. “hell received quite a few pieces.”

ghost nods back and looks down at the paper in his hand, refusing to acknowledge the fine shake running through it. it isn’t enough to blur the cutout from a manchester local newspaper and reading it again makes his knees weak with 30 year old relief

missing: norman riley

[kaliforniahigh]

Now, here is the filthy smut I promised you guys:

Noah loves when you're an obedient girl, but he loves even more when you act like a brat.

Warnings: Noah is a little mean, face-slapping (Noah on reader, if that makes you uncomfy, don't read!), unprotected p in v.

You were laying on the bed, sprawled out under Noah, as he hovered above you. It feels like you've been waiting for eternity for him to slip inside of you, and he was so close, you could feel his tip hitting your entrance. You extended your hand to grab his shaft with your delicate fingers, but he stopped you.

"No touching", his voice was rough and demanding, and you could tell he wasn't playing around with you. "Hold your legs open for me", he instructed, and both of your hands went to your kness, grasping where your legs were folded on your chest, holding them further apart for him.

"If you're a good girl for me, I'll give you what you want", he murmured, voice low and raspy, as he lazily stroked himself up and down. He was looking down at you from his position, eyes half lidded and a little teasing smirk playing on his lips. He knew you were growing frustrated, but he wanted to test your limits first.

His remark made you want to whine out loud, because you've been a good girl, you've been good for so long now, and it felt like he was taking forever to reward you. Instead, you did something that you knew would piss him off, just so he could feel a sliver of the annoyance you were feeling right now.

You rolled you eyes at him.

His reaction was instant, his eyes darkening and eyebrows furrowing, as if he couldn't belive you just did that. In seconds, his large palm made contact with your cheek. He didn't hit you too hard, but it was enough for a slap to resonate around the room.

He gripped your chin hard in his hand, bending down to look you in the eyes.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?", he asked through gritted teeth, but you could see a wicked smile wanting to break through his stern expression.

By this point, you could feel yourself dripping on the mattres below you. Your pussy clenching around nothing with how aroused and horny you were.

"Are you gonna be good? Are you done playing with me?", he inquired and you nodded.

"Yes", you whined, the words falling from your lips in a silent breath.

"Yes, who?", he shook your head in his grip, as if he wanted you to come to your senses.

"Yes, Noah. I'll be good"

"Good. Then hold your legs like I fucking told you to", he released your chin and you did as you were told.

Soon, you felt his tip make contact with your hole, pushing in slowly, and you felt him sliding in, inch by inch. You wanted to close your eyes and revel in the feeling of finally being filled, but you couldn't look away from his expression.

"You're always so fucking tight", he breathed out, mouth hanging open from the pleasure he felt every time you squeezed around him.

You were so wet and slick for him, that he almost forgot your disobedience from earlier. Almost.

When he was all the way him, his pelvis touching yours, his hand left his side and landed on your cheek once again. You moaned out loud from the feeling, and the way he was asserting his dominance over you in this moment.

You loved it when he got like this.

"Don't you ever fucking roll your eyes at me again, you hear me?", he was now pressing you on the mattres with his whole upper body. The feeling of his weight on you, and his refusal to move was slowly making your head spin.

"Yes, yes", you answered, tears of frustration gathering on your waterline.

"Don't gotta cry, babygirl. I told you I'll give you what you want", his hips started to move back and forth, as he captured your lips in a hungry kiss.

"Feels so good", you mewled out, and he stroked you reddened cheek with his thumb, giving you little kisses to soothe the stinging feeling that was now completely forgotten by you.

Tag List: @concreteangel92 @foliosgirl @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @stardustsirenmelody @concretejunglefm @fadingangelwisp @dontwantthemoney @tosoundlessdarkistare @babygirlchuuya @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @lacy1986 @romanreigns-supreme @xmads-omensx @missduffsblog @rumoured-whispers @thisbicc @badomensgoodomens @floatingkiwi @collective-heartbreak @dontwantthemoney @dream-machine-love @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @amelia-acero @montgomery-929496 @stardustsirenmelody @triedbimsoblu333 @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @noyaisasimp @w0manof-flesh44 @geminigirlfromfinland @zozaline @deardelirium @turn-your-life-into-folklore @dominuslunae @shelbyrlxoxo @super-btstrash-posts @shayzillaaaa @wordskeeper @enemiestolovershoe @haehihello @anameunmusical @blade-dressed-in-red @jilliemiw86 @vinyardmauro @ohheykayyyxo @chey-h @fuck1ng-queen @ichoosetenderomens

If you haven't been added, it's because you don't have your age mentioned on your blog!

[natalievoncatte]

Few moments in Alex’s life would stick out like this one. There was a rising panic in her throat, pulsing against her airway. Panic and grief gripped her like icy hands, working to strangle, and she wasn’t sure if what she choked down was a sob or vomit. Her hands trembled as they held the paper. She hadn’t thought of this.

The letterhead read simply, PAST DUE- FINAL NOTICE.

With everything going on, she’d simply forgotten about the matter until she swung by the loft. She should have sent Kelly, should have set up something earlier to deal with this. Kara was six months behind on her rent and she was going to be evicted if she didn’t pay.

Which she never would.

Alex had quietly accepted, about a month ago, that Kara wasn’t coming home, that all their methods had been exhausted, that her sister was lost in an infinite, shattered Phantom Zone, never to be found. She’s finally gotten the martyrdom that she’d been unknowingly seeking since she arrived on Earth.

She was keeping it bottled up, because the others still believed, even Brainy, who had to know the odds.

Alex seethed with a towering rage. There were some nights when, lying awake in Kelly’s arms, she’d fantasize about how she’d punish Clark for failing Kara, or what she’d do to Lex Luthor if she got her hands on him. Sometimes it would even be J’onn she raged at, or Lena.

She saved them all so many times, threw her life and body and soul in front of all them as a shield and took on their misery and suffering on top of her own, and though it was like drops cast in the ocean of Kara Zor-El’s grief, she felt every blow, every loss. Alex’s falling tears stained the letter as she thought of every time Kara paced this apartment, excoriating herself for her failures whenever she couldn’t be in five disasters at once.

Alex didn’t want her to be a superhero. She didn’t want that need to throw herself between others and their own suffering to consume Kara’s life, but it had.

Not for the first time, Alex wished that Kara had just stayed on the ground and let her plane crash. It was a selfish, hateful impulse. Kara would never have let it happen and even if she had, something would have prompted her to put on that red and blue costume and fly. It was what she was for.

Alex raged anyway. Fuck that little shit Wynn for making her a costume. The little pervert probably just wanted to make her try shit on to see her half naked. Fuck J’onn for recruiting her, fuck Clark for abandoning her… and… and…

The paper crumpled and so did Alex, sobbing. This was all her fault. If only…

“Alex?”

She hadn’t heard Lena come in. She’d long ago given up heels. Hell, shed given up. She was a wearing a hoodie that Alex knew was Kara’s and her hair was in a loose ponytail at the base of her neck, and if asked when she last ate or sleep, she’d have lied. Alex already knew the answer: she ate when someone remembered to feed her and she slept on a cot in her lab as she tortured herself.

Lena was the only one that Alex couldn’t rage at because Lena was already punishing herself. Kara would be furious if she knew how they were letting Lena treat her health.

Without a word, Lena gently grasped the letter and Alex released it.

Lena read it, frowning.

Then she pulled out her phone.

“Jess, I have a task for you. I’m going to send you a pic of an eviction letter. I want you to pay off the back rent.”

“Lena,” Alex began.

Lena waved her off.

“I want the building. Set up some shell companies. No one can know it’s me. Try to negotiate so it looks legit, but they can name their price. I want it done by tonight.”

Lena hung up.

“This is her place,” Lena said, softly.

“You didn’t have to do that,” said Alex.

“Yes, I did. This is her place. She deserves to come back to it,” Lena dropped onto the sofa beside her. “I will never give up. I don’t care if I’m still trying to bring her home when I’m old and gray, it’ll be worth it to see her one more time.”

Alex felt a wave of grief overwhelming her.

“Besides,” Lena forced cheer into her voice. “I spent a billion dollars so I could hang out with her at work. What’s an apartment building?”

Alex jolted. It was as if she watched a wine glass, which had toppled and shattered and cast its contents across the floor, leap back into position. As if the shards of crystal returned to their proper places and the cracks sealed, and the wine splashed back to its proper place, not a single shimmering golden drop lost. When the understanding snapped into place, it was like a lightning bolt. She felt too large for her skin, and the fine hairs at the back of her neck stood, as though bearing a charge.

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Lena was in love with Kara.

She could see it now. The love radiated from every pore of Lena’s skin, undulled by the grief that draped her like a nighted cloak, as gold shimmered untarnished beneath dust. Alex’s heart was about to break again.

“I have to get back to the lab.”

“Why are you here?” Alex said, softly.

“I was… I’ve been spending the night. I should have asked. I’m sorry.”

“Kara would want you to.”

Kara would want you to move on, Alex thought. She would want you to find someone and be happy and think only of her in fond memories. She would gladly martyr herself for you, too. You above all. She never stopped defending you even when…

Now there were two wine glasses, side by side, almost touching but not quite, promising a toast unsaid.

Oh.

Oh God.

Alex launched off the couch and threw her arms around Lena, holding her tight. Lena recoiled a little; she seemed to dislike hugs, almost like she didn’t understand them, even as she’d melted in Kara’s embrace dozens of times.

How had she been so blind?

“We’ll get her back,” Alex said.

“We will,” said Lena.

Later, Alex stood off to the side, her veins singing with unbridled joy after Kara released her from a full on, no-powers bear hug. She watched as the others embraced her and slapped her back and welcomed her home while Lena stared at here like she couldn’t believe she was real.

Limping, haggard, Kara suffered their joys with quiet reserve, pushing a little closer to her ultimate destination with each one until she stood in front of Lena.

The hug was awkward, tentative, but Kara thrust herself into it after a hesitant moment and Lena molded against her, the pair standing cheek to cheek a beat too long. Lena pulled back and Kara pulled after her, leaning in, only to dance back and do that awkward little shift.

“Kara,” Alex blurted. “For fuck’s sake, just do it.”

Kara looked at her, wide-eyed and a little betrayed. Kara was beyond honest to a fault: Alex knew that after Kara nervously told her about the infamous “I flew here on a bus “ incident. Kara was honest to the core of her very being, sickened by the act of lying.

To Alex’s surprise, it was Lena’s hands on Kara’s shoulders that turned her away. Kara looked back and her and Lena brought her hands to Kara’s cheeks, resting her palms against the abnormally pale skin of her face. Kara froze for two heartbeats and then gently put her hands on Lena’s sides and pulled her in, there bodies slotting together as their lips found one another, Kara leaning over Lena a little more with the added height of her boots as Lena collapsed into her, tears glittering on her cheeks. The kiss carried on until Alex cleared her throat.

Everyone in the room was stunned save Alex.

“Guys,” she said, “let’s give them a little privacy, huh? We can celebrate later.”

As the others filed out of the room, Lena raised her head from where it had lain on Kara’s shoulder and mouthed a silent thank you.

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes ch 10

masterpost

“Why are you so cheerful?” Damian narrowed his eyes up at Dick, as if he could possibly intimidate his elder brother. “And why are you still here? Return to Bloodhaven at once, where someone might desire your presence.” He dropped his phone on the bench with a clack and roughly pulled his sweatshirt over his head. His hair floofed up after it, trailing with static electricity. 

Wow, someone was still holding a grudge over him spilling the beans about the elementary school art show. Why so cranky? Cass and Stephanie hadn’t done anything embarrassing, they’d just come with him and said that it was nice. Damian had done this family portrait thing where no one had eyes or hands. It was avante garde or something. Dick didn’t really get it, but the technical proficiency was really impressive.

Dick bounced on his heels a bit as he got his gloves on. He felt his hair bounce with the movement. He felt extremely light and breezy. “Because you would miss me,” he teased.

Damian grunted and looked away. He yanked open his locker and pretended that he was the only one in the changing room as he pulled off his pajama pants and started to wiggle into the Robin uniform. The leg armor squeaked as he forced it up and into place. 

Quiet footsteps padded into the room. Dick caught sight of Timmy in his locker mirror.

‘He will definitely be up for fucking with Jason and his date a little.’

“There is a little something going on tonight,” Dick said, faux casually. He cracked his neck and then started going through the double check of all the fastenings of his uniform and basic equipment. “Remember earlier, when Duke sent that odd message?”

Damian grunted.

“Well, I looked into it, and-”

“Holy shit, Jason is calling out of patrol tonight in the group chat.” Stephanie’s voice trailed faintly over the divider between the locker rooms. “Do you see this shit, Nicki Minaj?”

Dick blinked. “Nicki Min-” 

That apparently meant Tim, who lunged for his phone and unlocked it. He stared in disbelief for a moment. “Is he allowed to do that?” he asked. He scrunched his face up, clearly disturbed.

‘Makes sense, but does that mean I’m going to be chasing Jason, not Red Hood?’ Dick crinkled up his nose and thought about it. Probably not? He didn’t want to give anyone the impression that Jason’s civilian ID was being hunted by law enforcement. Jay probably just didn’t want Dick to be able to track him down too easily. Fair enough. 5 of them on patrol was quite honestly a lot more than Gotham needed on an average night.

Damian snorted. “Don’t be absurd,” he sneered. “We are all entitled to a certain number of rest days per week. Have you forgotten the holistic wellness powerpoint presentation so easily, you despicable fool?”

“Shut up, nerd.” Tim held his phone in Damian’s face.

Damian stared at it without blinking for a long few seconds. “...I was not aware this was a genre of action of which he was capable.” He looked incredibly troubled.

The expression wiped off of Dick’s face.

‘What did that little shit do?’

“Maybe it’s a sick mind game?” Stephanie suggested, voice lifting in question.

Dick yanked his locker open and dug his phone out. He unlocked it in a blur of motion, already scowling. 

Jay had sent a picture to the birdchat with a selfie of him and a man who must be Danny, the dead guy on the other end of the sacrifice contract. They were leaning together over a dinner table. Jay was cheesing for the camera, a glint in his eye that said he knew he was being a little shit. Danny looked kinda dazed, which probably meant he wasn’t quite wild enough for their life. Dick nearly felt a tinge of guilt about tagging him into their rivalry, but hey, it was just a friendly game.

The accompanying message was, “Can’t patrol tonight, I’m spending time with the boyfriend. Stay safe, losers and Steph.”

Dick huffed. He slammed his locker shut. Fine. So, he didn’t get to share the exciting news! That was fine. That was fair, even. Jay should get to launch his own relationship. It was just kinda-

Wait. He scrambled to open the locker again and looked at the selfie again. 

He knew the wall behind them. It was an Italian place where Jay laundered money from the sale of imported Dutch narcotics. 

‘They have to still be there,’ he realized, mind running through the minutes since he had confirmed with Babs via camera that the two were at the planetarium. He grinned like the Grinch and rushed out. “Bye, see you out there,” he called over his shoulder to the locker room and snatched up his helmet. He had already changed, after all! No need to wait around for the slowpokes and the old man who still wasn’t even coming down the Bat staircase yet.

Nightwing flung himself onto his motorcycle and tore off into the night. He crossed the bridge into Gotham, a flash of blue reflected off the choppy water below. It felt like minutes until he kicked out the stand for his bike and dismounted, clicking the protective tech on without stopping for a minute. He took the rickety, rust-red stairs up the outside of the building and slithered in the stairwell.

He wasn’t an amateur. He knew that Jay knew what he’d done. He was expecting Dick to come here. But that didn’t mean Dick couldn’t gain ground. Jay might still be here. Dick crept out into the restaurant through the kitchen, ducking out of sight from the line cook and bursting through the kitchen double doors in utter silence.

His gaze went unerringly to the table where the photo had been taken. A grim-faced waiter looked up, pristine white cloth in the process of wiping it down. “There’s a note for you,” he said. He indicated the receipt with a head tilt and finished his task, wiping down the salt shaker and other accoutrement.

Boo. Dick deflated. “Thank you,” he said. It was too much to expect for this to end first thing. Ah. He cheered up at the realization that this was better, actually. He was clearly only minutes behind them. The game wouldn’t be fun if it was too easy, after all. With that in mind he felt pretty chipper as he reached for the no doubt taunting note Jay would have left him on the back of the receipt. In his peripheral vision he noted the waiter picking up a short mop and running it over the floor under where Jay and Danny’s feet would have been.

…A riddle. They left him a riddle. “How does water fall onto a cranky little stormcloud?” Puzzled, he blinked. Uh, water going up? Something about condensation, about pipes, about… stormcloud? He crinkled his eyebrows and thought about Damian’s thunderous little face, chubby cheeks and all, positively sick with fury that Dick had betrayed him by attending his art show.

He had a bad feeling. He looked up. There, in the unfinished rafters, alien green eyes stared down at him predatorily from an inhumanly pale face. 

Dick froze. Jason’s boyfriend was clinging to the ceiling like goddamn Dracula climbing down the castle wall, one clawed hand wrapped around a rafter, feet braced against another in a way that made his limbs look just slightly too long and angular. The other hand was holding a bucket.

Fuck. Dick dodged in a roll and barely evaded the bulk of the splash zone.

“Loser!” Jason’s voice called out. 

Dick whipped his head over to see his brother grinning at him from the kitchen in a goddamn kitchen staff apron. “Bitch!” he said, appalled. Had he really walked past him without realizing it? No way. Just no way. He looked back up and jolted. 

Danny was gone. 

Fuck!

He looked back at the kitchen just in time to see Danny drape himself over Jason’s shoulder in a boneless way, flash a grin with teeth that were far too long, and then… and then. They both faded out of sight as Dick rushed the door. There was no hint as to where they had gone.

‘I should have gotten tactical information about Danny’s ghost abilities before I challenged them. This is on me, a little bit. I’ll have to have Babs take a look… No, not yet. They’re probably going around by one of Jason’s bikes, I can check on what’s missing and plug the license plate number into the auto search program.’’

“Excuse me.”

Disheartened, Dick blinked back at the waiter, who had already mopped up the water that Danny had dropped on him. He was impassively holding out another wet towel. 

”...Thank you,” Dick said, and dried his left shin off so he stopped leaving drips across the restaurant.

[prettygiri222]

Hi baby idk if ur requests are on but can u pls do a black reader who doesn’t have a lot of ass (baby I be reading these fanfics (not urs) and it always has black women with fat ass and big boobs and I’m like 😔 that ain’t me) and who doesn’t smoke, with like anyone but maybe wit eren or Connie, thank you sm girl and even if u don’t do this I appreciate u reading this hottie.

Girl I feel you, my shit not the fattest either but I do smoke myself so that's why it's present in some of my stories😭

Connie x Black Fem Reader SMUT

“stop playing with me mama,” Connie quickly ushered your naked bodies into his bedroom. clothes lost from the heated makeout session that took place on the leather couch in the living room. the movie playing long forgotten on the flat-screen TV. “get on the bed.”

“ah!” you let out a little gasp when he brought his large hands down and delivered a slight slap to your ass. excited for what was coming next you let out a little giggle as you crawled onto the bed. you got into position as you always did, missionary. with you on your back and pulling back your legs so they rested near your head.

Connie loved being able to see your pretty face scrunch up in pleasure. the way your eyes crossed when a particularly strong orgasm raked through your body. the access he had to play with your small tits, his huge hands dwarfing them. he loved the way you clenched extra hard when he tweaked or sucked on your nipples leaving them puffy and sore in the morning. 

your slacked jaw gives Connie free entry to your mouth to spit and suck on your tongue, mixing saliva. you're left breathless, gasping for air unable to kiss him back with moans being forced out into his mouth by his deep strokes. or when halfway you would give up on holding your leg and clutch onto him for dear life. your smaller body jostling against his sweaty one as he pounded into your pussy, basically drowning in your slick.

but today he wanted to try something different.

“can you get on your hands and knees for me please?” your boyfriend asked, staring intently at you from above. your cunt was already glistening from just making out but he was no better. his dick was standing at attention between his legs just waiting to find its way inside you.

“ok…” you meekly replied wanting to please your boyfriend. you slowly dragged yourself into the new position. the arch you presented to your boyfriend was utterly pathetic. you felt embarrassed feeling more exposed despite holding yourself open for him only a few moments ago.

“you can do better than that,” Connie said. you felt him nudge his dick against your soaking cunt. 

“I can't” you let your head fall against the mattress. god, this was so humiliating. until now Connie never mentioned anything about wanting to try doggy style but you hated it. always jumping into a position that allowed the two of you to be face to face. you loved the sight of Connie above you. his happy trail that led to a sharp v-line, the way his abs flexed after every thrust made you so wet and his caring eyes that watched your every move to see how you would react. a cute way to tell that Connie was close was the way his pink lips quivered faster the closer he got to his orgasm.

but the underlying reason you preferred missionary above all was because anytime you watched porn you noticed how in every video the girls in doggy always had the fattest asses, something you didn’t have. but it wasn’t something that made you self-conscious. you just didn’t think you would enjoy it as much cause of it.

you loved your smaller body and showing it off. like earlier today, you were wearing a tight baby tee and your favourite pair of low waisted jeans that showed off your deep back dimples. Connie could not keep his hands off you, they trailed your exposed skin before pulling at your belt loops. it was his signal that he wanted them off.

Connie on the other hand didn’t mind indulging in your love for missionary. seeing his girl happy and fucked out made him feel good but he felt like he wasn’t able to give you all he had. Connie's dick wasn't the biggest but it was really thick and girthy with a downward curve due to how heavy it hung. 

what he noticed after prodding around at your insides with his fingers and memorizing all your soft spots was that your most sensitive spot was upwards, toward your stomach. so in missionary he could only brush it and not abuse it how he wanted.

wanting to hear no more of your complaints Connie took matters into his own hands. he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed where he was standing. before you could turn and see what he was doing he pressed his hand in between your shoulder blades and forced you down face first into the mattress. “oh sweetie, but you can”

your newfound arch was delicious. your upper body was pressed flat against the bed creating a deep curve in your spine that led to your ass that was being held up by Connie. you turned your head to the side so you could breathe

“look at you, so talented,” he praised, marvelling at your body. it was amazing how you could take his dick like a fucking champ yet you were so tiny compared to him. his huge hands swallowed each of your asscheeks as he kneaded them while teasing the tip of his dick against your slicked hole.

“I'm going in,” your boyfriend gave you a brief warning to prepare for the stretch but you weren't ready. you're so used to his curve going down towards your spine so feeling it go up into your tummy was new.

“oh my goddd” you whined out. he bottomed out quickly, his tip kissing your cervix. you instinctively pulled away from him already feeling overwhelmed.

“where you going ma?” Connie stuck his thumbs into your back dimples to give him some leverage. he easily pulled you back onto his dick. you let out a cry as he forced himself inside. “you feeling me deep inside?”

“yeaaa,” the wet squelching sounds of your pussy coating his dick could be heard. some of your wetness dripped down your thighs. after each thrust you could feel yourself being stretched out to fit his size. “all in my tummy pa”

the view Connie had was amazing. he spread your brown cheeks so he could watch himself slide in and out of your tiny cunt, the pink of your pussy appearing when he pulled out. he watched as your creamy paste began to coat his dick. pap! pap! pap! it was like music to his ears. 

you were already soaking wet, the sheets underneath where you two connected was drenched and turning darker in colour. so for the pure obscenity of it Connie spat on the shaft of his dick. he groaned watching as your hole greedily slurped it up along with his dick. 

“you hear that mama?” pap! pap! pap! Connie gave you a second to listen to the sounds your body was making. it was straight-up pornographic. “that’s how you know I’m hitting it right.”

“uhuhuh” your boyfriend was showing you what you were missing out all this time during missionary. his cock struck the same spot each time. it felt so good that it was starting to hurt.

the force of Connie's pelvis slapping against your ass was enough to send you flying forward every thrust. and each time he pulled you back like you were a fucking ragdoll. you couldn't do anything but take everything he was giving you.

you reached out to trying to grab something, whether it was the sheets, his arm, the bedframe, you just needed something to brace yourself. Connie watched as your tiny hands struggled to grasp at his sheets.

your poor pussy was going to be bruised in the morning from how rough Connie was being. once he found your sweet spot he didn't let up, the intensity he was pounding at it was insane. he didn’t let up, not that you would allow him to either.

each time Connie pulled out your pussy just sucked him back in. pap! pap! pap! the sight and the sounds you were making had his dick twitching, aching for release. and your cunt felt like heaven, all warm and wet. he wasn’t going to last any longer in this position. “ma, I'm so close.” he groaned.

“me to me to” you moaned out against the bed. the growing feeling in your stomach was about to burst. your legs shook like a fawn taking its first steps. you sunk further into the bed arching deeper into Connie needing just a bit more. his tip reaching your cervix was the final push, “m’cumming” you whined out.

you pressed your face into the sheets when the overwhelming feeling hit you. Connie let out a low whimper feeling you clenched tightly around his cock stopping him in his tracks. unable to pull out he was forced to release inside you, painting your insides.

“knew your lil ass would love it.” he chuckled watching you twitch underneath him. he waited until your sopping cunt stopped spasming around his dick. one you both finished your orgasms he pulled out watching as his cum mixed with your fluids spilled out of your quivering hole.

hope this was to your liking <3 my requests are open but I'll do another post on that later

[inez-winchester-cameron]

Sharing is Caring (18+)

↠Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!reader, Dean Winchester x fem!reader

↠Summary: After overhearing his brother having sex with you, Sam finds himself horny and unable to quench his thirst with just his fist (SMUT)

↠Cw: threesome, mentions of collaring, dom!sam and dean, mentions of 'training', oral, riding, cheek slapping, masturbation, shower sex, dubcon

↠Notes: this made me very horny while writing so i hope yall enjoy

-

Sam found himself awkwardly adjusting his boner in the recliner of the motel you, him and Dean were staying in. You and Dean seemed to have forgotten just how thin motel walls were. Just ten minutes before that, you and Dean had announced you were going to shower quickly before heading out to gather details on the hunt. 

It was naive of Sam to think that you two were just going to shower, he now realized. Because when did Dean ever just do wholesome things with you? Sam felt bad, sitting there, listening to the noises you and Dean let out. The recliner was close to the bathroom door, he could’ve gotten up and moved, maybe even stepped outside for a breather.

But he didn’t. He sat there listening. Like a creep. But what was the harm, it wasn’t like you and Dean knew he could hear you, right?

Dean had you pinned, chest against the shower wall, as he pounded into you from behind. He growled dirty words directly into your ear. You had assumed the shower water noise would drown out your noises, but you underestimated just how loud Dean made you. Most of Dean’s dirty talk was similar, not to call it boring, but he normally used a lot of the same phrases and ideas. So, when a new thought came into his brain, he found himself immediately spitting it out.

“You think Sam can hear us, huh, baby? Bet he can. Bet he’s out there touching his cock to your pretty moans.”

Dean didn’t mean it seriously, it was bedroom talk. But then he felt the way you clenched down around him at the words. A smirk formed on his lips, “You like that, baby? Like the thought of him wanting you as much as I do?” Against all morals you had, you found yourself nodding. Dean chuckled lowly into your ear, “That’s so cute, baby. Maybe next time we’ll invite him.” As soon as those words came out of his lips, your cunt spasmed around his cock. There wasn’t even a moment to warn Dean, you came immediately at the thought of that. Embarrassed, you stayed quiet as Dean finished up. 

After a well needed wash up in the shower, you and Dean stepped out, wrapping towels around yourselves. Sam’s eyes widened, as he realized you two had finished. He quickly sat some books on his lap, hiding his massive boner. It’s fine, he would just step into the shower after you and Dean came out. He could rub one out and get right back on the case.

Soon, you and Dean exited the bathroom, both dressed. You were towel drying your hair as you sat on the bed. Sam quietly excused himself into the bathroom and locked the door. Neither of you had noticed his erection, right? It was a bit embarrassing for Sam, but he did have a big cock, and whenever he got hard, it was more than noticeable. 

Sam restarted the shower water and began stripping, as he did this, he noticed something. In the corner of the bathroom sat a pile of clothes. He bit his lip at the garment sitting on top. A pair of black lace panties. Sam’s brain argued with himself over morals, but eventually he snatched the panties, stuffing them into his jean pocket after he slipped them off. Sam stepped into the shower, sighing in relief that he hadn’t been caught with an erection a few moments earlier. Sam shut his eyes and started stroking his cock, his head filled with thoughts of you. Especially the pretty moans you were letting out while Dean fucked you. He wondered what position Dean had you in earlier. Were you up against the wall? Bent over the tub? Was Dean sitting while you bounced on his cock? Sam’s mind ran with endless possibilities. Eventually he spilled all over his hand, in an embarrassingly quick amount of time. 

While Sam was in the bathroom, you and Dean were waiting outside. There was a bit of an awkward silence after what Dean had whispered to you in the shower. It wasn’t super tense, no one was upset, no one was mad, it was just a little awkward.

You cleared your throat and spoke first, “What was that?”

“What was what?” Dean asked, faking looking over the research Sam had gathered.

“In the shower,” you stated, “That dirty talk.”

“I always dirty talk you like that, baby,” Dean replied, avoiding the topic. 

“No, the dirty talk about Sam,” you got specific so he couldn’t avoid it any longer. 

Dean shrugged, “Just came to mind..why? Did you not like it?”

“No, I did, just- it was just different, was wondering what brought it on.”

Before Dean could answer, Sam stepped back out, now dressed in his FBI suit, as you and Dean were.

“You guys ready?” Sam questioned.

“Of course,” Dean stood up, grabbing everything necessary and headed out the door, with you and Sam in tow. You and Sam accidentally ran into each other, trying to go out at the same time. A light blush appeared on both of your cheeks, and neither of you had noticed the others, and Sam took a step back, letting you go first. You gave him a small smile, such a gentleman. It just made you want to know if he was just as respectful in bed or if he had a dark side. 

-

The rest of the day was filled with small, awkward touches between you and Sam. This always made both of you erupt in blush, for different but similar reasons. Oh and Dean saw it all. He didn’t seem like it, but Dean was observant, especially when it came to his girl. He noticed every small touch, every time blush appeared on your cheeks, everything.

Later that night, you three returned to the room. You were first to the shower, heading in and cleaning up. It was a simple hunt, quick salt-and-burn, but you slipped and got yourself all dirty. After about ten minutes, you stepped out of the bathroom, now dressed in Dean’s flannel and just your underwear. It wasn’t uncommon for you to be so exposed in front of Sam. You practically lived together for Christ’s sake. And normally he was respectful, keeping his eyes to himself. But something caused him to look over, looking at your ass as you spoke in careful whispers to Dean.

“Dean, did you do something with my panties?” You asked, setting down the dirty clothes into a grocery store bag to separate them from the clean ones.

“No, sweetheart, you woulda saw me, why?”

“They’re gone.” A puzzled look came onto Dean’s face at this, and he glanced at Sam, and he saw where his eyes were. His eyes were trained right onto your ass. You weren’t paying attention, putting your things back into the duffel you and Dean shared. Dean smirked a little bit and his eyes caught Sam’s. Sam sat still, like a deer caught in headlights. A couple puzzle pieces clicked together in Dean’s mind. Sam did hear you guys this morning, he has been being awkward all day and he was the one that took your panties.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean called out, “You seen her panties? The black pair?”

Sam paused, shocked that Dean just asked that. He took a moment to regain his composure as he realized Dean and you were looking at him. His thoughts were all muddled together and he made a mistake, “No, I haven’t seen any black lace panties.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed and a smirk played on his lips, “How’d ya know they were lace?”

“W-what?” Sam asked, dumbfounded and confused.

“I asked if you seen her black panties, never said they were lace.” Checkmate.

“Oh- I- Um-”

Dean grabbed your waist, possessively and pulled you backwards onto his lap, whispering into his ear, “Whatdya say, baby? Wanna have some fun with Sammy?” With a bite of your lip, you found yourself nodding. Sam wasn’t sure what Dean was whispering, but from the flustered look on your face and the smirk on Dean’s, he knew it couldn’t be good. 

“Yes, sir,” you mumbled.

“And you know the safe word?” Dean quickly checked and you replied ‘whiskey’ under your breath, “Good girl, now go help my brother out of his jeans. Crawl.” At his command, you found yourself on all fours, crawling over to Sam as he sat at the table. Sam’s eyes widened as you did this, but he wasn’t complaining. His eyes flashed from Dean’s eyes to you, his heart was beating out of his chest and Dean spoke up before you touched Sam, “Don’t worry, Sammy. Im a good brother so I’ll share.” You sat up in front of Sam, looking up at him, giving him “fuck me” eyes. 

“Can I touch you, sir?” You quietly asked. Sam nodded, and you immediately reached for his belt, undoing his jeans and pulling his cock out. You licked your lips at the sight, it was just a tad bit longer than Dean’s but it was less girthy. Precum leaked from the tip and you leaned forward, licking it up. Sam moaned at this. Dean chuckled as you took the tip into your mouth.

“You’ll need to excuse his behavior, love. Been a minute since Sammy’s had a good lay,” Dean spoke up and Sam’s face got red.

“Oh shut up,” he barked at Dean. Nothing, not even a pretty woman, could stop the boys from bickering. Sam went to add on but he let out a low moan as you took him deeper in your throat. He finally understood why you and Dean had so much sex, if Sam had a girlfriend this good at sucking cock, he’d have her on her knees every night too. Sam tried to hold back his moans, embarrassed at how much he felt like a teenage virgin. Your tongue traced his cock, eliciting as many moans as he would give you.

“Don’t cum in her, Sammy,” Dean warned, still sitting across the room. He palmed his hard-on at the sight in front of him. Something about seeing his girl pleasuring his baby brother was driving him fucking nuts. Sam nodded and lightly pulled your hair when he was ready to finish. You pulled back, sitting back on your calves, hands folded neatly on your lap, tongue sticking out, eyes looking up at Sam. Dean had you trained well, and soon Sam was blowing his load all over your face. Dean stood up, walking over, looking down at you, “Good girl, baby. How about you give me a treat now?” Sam had missed Dean taking his shirt off but it was off now. He watched you pull Dean’s jeans down, taking his cock into your mouth like you had Sam’s. Sam watched, a bit mesmerized at the scene in front of him. 

Dean smirked, speaking to Sam, “She’s a good little cum slut, surprised we haven’t done this sooner. She’s just always so desperate to get some cock in her.” That turned you on, hearing Dean speak as if you weren’t already in the room. Your pussy clenched, and you spread your legs, gently starting to rub your clit. At this, Dean smacked your cheek, making you moan around his cock, and he warned, “Don’t touch what doesn’t belong to you.” You quickly pulled your hand back and kept working on Dean’s cock.

Sam cleared his throat, speaking up, “You..you have her trained well.” His cock was still out, now half-hard at what he was witnessing.

“Damn straight, I do,” Dean said, taking pride as he tugged on your hair, “She knows she ain’t getting shit if she’s not good.” Sam’s eyes widened, he had never had a girl that he did anything like that with. Most of the girls he had fucked were just a one time thing, and they just had basic vanilla sex. This was new to him and..and he kind of liked it.

Sam bit his lip as he watched Dean cum in your mouth. Dean pulled out, “Show.” You stuck your tongue out, presenting Dean’s cum. 

“Fuck,” Sam unintentionally muttered, now fully hard. Dean smirked.

“Swallow.” You did as you were told. Dean glanced at Dean, seeing the look on her face, “You wanna give it a go? Boss her around? Do whatever you want with her, just don’t cum in my property. She listens real good.” Dean glanced down at you, lightly slapping your cheek and cooing at you, “Ain’t that right, baby?” You nodded and Dean spoke again, “Gonna be good for Sammy?” Another nod. Dean smirked and looked at Sam, waiting to see what he was going to say. It took Sam a minute to think but he eventually spoke up. 

“Strip and sit on my lap,” Sam commanded you and Dean smirked, watching as you listened. You unbuttoned Dean’s flannel and shrugged it off before shimmying out of your panties. Sam looked you up and down, taking in your naked form. He licked his lips, you were prettier than expected. You sat down on Sam’s lap, thighs on either side of him, and hands on your shoulders. Dean sat aside, watching intently. He wanted to see what Sam would do. Sam leaned in and kissed you. It was a hungry but passionate kiss. Sam ran his hands along your body, pinching you nipples and squeezing your hips. He kissed down your jaw, whispering into your ear, “Bounce on my cock.” 

You whimpered but listened, lining yourself up with his cock and lowering yourself down onto it. Sam squeezed your hips tight, and you quietly asked, “Can I take your clothes off, sir?” Sam nodded and you started unbuttoning his flannel.

“Ain’t she pretty, Sammy?” Dean asked, and Sam nodded. Both men looked at you with a certain type of hunger. As you adjusted to the sheer size of Sam, you stripped him of the rest of his clothes, taking a minute to run your hands along his chest.

“She’s really pretty,” Sam commented, looking at your body, “Might have to keep sharing her.” Sam felt you clench around him and he chuckled, “Did our pretty fleshlight like that? You wanna be used?” You quickly nodded and Dean gave a chuckle. 

“That’d be fun, we could get her a pretty collar, keep her in nothing but that,” Dean commented back, biting his lip at the thought of that. You slowly started bouncing on Sam’s cock, lifting and dropping yourself repeatedly. 

“Mmm, she loves that idea, Dean. She’s squeezing me so tight.” You didn’t know where this side of Sam came from. He was usually so sweet, caring, and respectful. But, this, this was new. Not that you minded it. Seeing the respectful brother be disrespectful was so so hot to you.

“Oh is she?” Dean asks with a smirk, speeding up his movements on his cock. Sam moved his fingers to your clit, rubbing it as you pleasured him.

“She is,” Sam replied, groaning as you began convulsing around him signaling your orgasm. Sam leaned in, “Cum for me, baby.” At this, the knot in your stomach broke and you came on his cock. You slowed to a stop and Sam raised an eyebrow, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Huh?” You replied, confused.

“I didn’t cum yet,” Sam explained.

“But my legs-” Sam replied with a swift smack to your ass. You jolted forward, and your eyes filled with tears at the sheer impact. Dean chuckled, amused by this.

Sam wrapped his hand around your throat, “Keep fucking yourself on my cock. Now.” You glanced at Dean, but he wasn’t going to help you. So, like the good trained bitch you were, you continued to bounce on his cock. Sam squeezed your ass tight, watching your tits bounce in his face. He leaned forward, taking a nipple into his mouth.

“Bite them,” Dean recommends and Sam does so, eliciting a moan-scream from you and a clench from your pretty pussy. Your body was so so so tired, but you were a good girl, you would continue to pleasure Sam. Dean found himself getting close, but he didn’t want to cum before you and Sam were done. Sam bit the other nipple, getting another of the same reaction.

“God, you’re a little pain slut, huh?”

“She sure is, bet she could cum just from getting hurt.” Dean egged Sam on.

“Sam please-!” You begged, legs tired, on the edge of an orgasm. Sam growled, turning to Dean.

“I’m gonna creampie your girl’s pussy.”

“Like the fuck you ar-” Dean tried but he stopped, seeing his was too late. Sam came in you, a ton, it leaked out around his cock. You moaned and came with Sam. Although he was just objecting, Dean finished stroking himself to the sight of you two. He then gave Sam a harsh glare.

You panted and laid down, resting on Sam’s chest. Sam smiled and wrapped his arms around you then ran his fingers through your hair. There was the sweet gentle Sammy you knew. You fell asleep there and as soon as soft snores fell from your lips, Sam had one thing to say to Dean.

“Our girl now.”

[show-your-fangs]

I could request the double life of the reader, one as an agent and the other as a camgirl. Hotchner is a follower but they won't realize it until they travel on a case to an area where it's hot and they see a familiar brand.

By the way, I love your writing. 💖😊

anon i love you. take my hand in marriage RIGHT NOW.

It's You | Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner

introducing--

The Secrets We Keep (a Bunny and Clyde story) - Part One

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner x BAU/cam girl f!Reader

Words: 3k

CW: mutual masturbation, sex work (is real work), power imbalance/play.

Tags/warnings: master!hotch, reader works at the bau and is a secret cam girl, hotch is a customer, pet names (bunny, sweet girl), perv!hotch, mutual masturbation, hotch being a little mean.

a/n: yes, oh god yes will this become something I can already taste it. catch me writing another insanely long D/s series about these two because I AM IN LOVE.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

The first time that he noticed a similarity he thought he’d officially lost his mind. 

Maybe the sleep deprivation, insurmountable amounts of stress he was under, and the fact that he had yet to have his morning coffee were all working in tandem against him. 

It had been a complete accident. You’d been walking towards your desk in the morning, in a foul mood and you didn’t care who saw it. You’d set your bag down on the wooden counter but accidentally miscalculated how close you were to it and slammed your foot into the metal leg that separated them.

A yelp escaped your lips, high pitched, painful, sexual. His ears had perked up immediately, his brows scrunching together as he tried to remember where he’d heard that sound before. Realization struck him like a truck running him against a brick wall. 

No, there was no way, his brain was being absurd, he was being absurd.   

The day wrapped him up in a tornado of meetings and he’d almost forgotten about the incident earlier in the day, but then he received a notification late at night, after he’d returned home from a long day at the office. She was online, his favorite, perfect girl. 

Aaron had never been one for porn, never really saw the appeal of overly produced, almost veering on fake sexual content. He’d met his wife in high school, he was never in need of searching for something that he already had. 

But after Haley passed away and he became increasingly frustrated with the idea of having to put himself out there and date someone else to get the intimacy that he desired, he’d bitten the bullet and signed up for one of the many sites that Morgan had not so subtly been recommending for the past few months. 

To think that his colleague could tell he was so sexually frustrated to the point that he’d began dropping hints about it had made him more embarrassed than signing up for the site. 

The first few times that he used the site were…interesting. Getting past that wall of righteousness he’d put up around himself was difficult. He wanted, no, needed release, craved it in a way he’d never felt before. 

He’d go from stream to stream, curious, trying to keep an open mind. But nothing really spoke to him, nothing really made him excited to engage, to stay longer than a few minutes, to touch himself. 

And then he’d found her, bouncingbunny1, or Bunny as she went by for the customers that paid enough to be in her inner circle. 

She was beautiful in that girl next door who was secretly naughty way that he hadn’t realized he was so attracted to. Always clad in delicate pink lingerie, never showing her face, even when he’d finally gotten over his fear and paid for a private session.

It was easy to fantasize, easy to let himself go and allow the soft cadence of her voice, the filthy sounds of her moans as she touched herself for his pleasure and his pleasure only, making him come undone in minutes. 

He’d learned something dangerous about himself then, a desperate need to dominate, to control, to have power over someone in such an intimate way. Watching this delicate woman come undone by his orders, his commands, his instructions on how he wanted her to pleasure herself was more satisfying than anything he’d experienced before.

Now, months later, he could confidently accept that this had been one of the best decisions he’d ever made. Sure, he spent as much money on her as he did on rent every month, but it was honestly worth it. He had an insurmountable amount of access, she’d told him as much on their nightly conversations. 

It wasn’t just about release anymore. He found himself talking to her, texting and calling, whenever she was online and he needed her. There had been a few instances where they’d closed a particularly tough case and all he needed was to hear her voice, but she was unavailable. 

But she made up for it with messages filled with those silly kissing face emojis, telling him that she’d make it up to him later that night. And he never questioned it, never even found it odd that sometimes those moments happened to coincide with them being stuck on the jet or pulling a late night of paperwork at the office. 

He had no reason to think anything of it, no reason to ever even begin to think of the possibility that it was you…that it could ever be you on the other side of his screen. You, his subordinate, his teammate, his friend who he adored and cherished and thanked the universe every day for your patience, kindness, love.

Even with the slightest possibility, the smallest sliver that it could be you—

user1102: Bunny.

bouncingbunny1: hiiiiii Master 🤭🥰🩷💖😚

user1102: Can we play?

Bouncingbunny1: yes sir

He smirked to himself, immediately calling. He never showed his face or his body. The only indication that he was real was through what he allowed you to hear. That was another thing that he’d noticed about himself, how deep and sharp his voice could get when he allowed himself to be free. 

You answered the call immediately. You knew he didn’t like to be kept waiting and you couldn’t contain your excitement every time he called you. He was the only reason you were still doing this, even after finishing college (debt free), after getting through the academy and getting the job you’d been desperately working towards all your adult life – he had come in and kept you wrapped up in his orbit. 

You’d started working at the BAU almost a year ago. They were down an agent and you’d been brought in to train for the position. The transition had been stressful, something that you were accounting for but not to this degree. 

You had taken a break from camming in preparation for the adjustment period, taking your time to see if you would even want to return to it or if it was a closed chapter in your book. 

But you’d returned home one night after a particularly grueling case, with so much pent up energy, so much bratty energy that the only way that you knew how to get it out in a healthy way was to put on a show. 

You’d spent the next few hours with your bluetooth vibrator inside you, a pretty baby blue lingerie set over it, cumming over and over and over and over again as the people watching paid to make the device go faster and faster and faster.

That’s when you first met him, user1102. After the first hour was up and you were practically hanging on to your couch for dear life, he’d told you he’d pay five hundred dollars if you took a break, if you drank a full glass of water for him on camera to show him you were taking care of yourself. 

And so you did, everyone else in the chat respecting the decision, albeit annoying as it was, since they all understood that money spoke volumes and they were not in the market to try and outbid whoever he was.

You didn’t recognize him from your usual clients which meant that this was the first time he was seeing you, and what a night to start indeed. He kept coming back after that, every time that you were able to find the time or needed to find release, to clear your mind of the day’s events. 

He was always a big tipper, an even bigger flirt, always made sure to send public and private messages while you played live, always said hello and goodbye. 

You’d squealed loudly when he finally requested a private session and made sure you looked extra good for him. He was perfect, even if you had no idea what he looked like, and these sessions became more and more frequent to the point that you’d almost stopped performing for other people.  

You were sitting in front of your couch on the cold wood floor, a fluffy towel under you. He could see a few toys off camera and a large water bottle that he’d gotten you next to them, clearly just in frame for him.

“Hi bunny,” he groaned, his hand already wrapped around his cock. 

“Hi Master,” you whimpered, already feeling spacey and out of it. It was always like this with him, easy to slip, to submit, to simply allow your brain to think about following his instructions. 

“Someone’s eager,” he mocked and you immediately knew what he was talking about. It was crazy to think that you were so attuned to him, to where his mind was. It filled you with warmth every time that you could anticipate his thoughts, his needs, his desires. 

“Prepared,” you whined, offended. “I always make a mess when we play and I’m tired of having to mop my floor.”

He chuckled, hand tightening around himself. He never had to work to get hard when he spoke with you, the mere thought of getting to play, as you liked to call it, enough to get him going. 

That’s when he noticed it, a small band aid on the side of your foot. 

“What happened to your foot, sweet girl?” he asked, his heart beating uncomfortably fast, blood practically shooting up to his ears and his cock. 

“Oh…” you started, a little afraid that he’d punish you for not being careful. “I bumped it against a chair today.”

He came harder than he’d ever had that night just by the mere thought that you were the one letting out those addicting noises, that you were the one coming undone because of him, that you were the one writhing, shaking, panting, so completely at his mercy that you’d quite literally do anything for him. 

You were in god awful, swampy Florida. The summer sun was unforgiving, the cozy, long sleeve you had chosen for what you believed would be a long day at the office doing paperwork was definitely the worst clothing choice as the humidity practically clung to your body. 

You wanted to scream, wanted to punch something, wanted to take it off and not worry about flaunting your practically naked breasts to everyone around you. Anything to get rid of the burning heat that trapped your body. 

You were practically a walking puddle when you made it back to the station, practically bolting to the bathroom in a cloud of smoke. Morgan couldn’t help but chuckle, he’d been teasing you about it all afternoon, especially after he’d urged you to change and you had refused because you were sure you’d be staying inside with Reid in the comfort of the air conditioned building.

Aaron couldn’t help but notice your mood. You weren’t normally this grumpy. You were usually the one making sure he stopped frowning. He gave you a moment and then followed behind swiftly. 

You stepped into the women’s bathroom and immediately pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aggressively over the sink. You stood there, heaving, allowing the cold air to seep into your body, to have it calm you down, ground you. 

Aaron was about to knock when he saw the door slightly ajar and he immediately stilled, his eyes landing on your topless body. It was too similar, you were too similar, his brain now desperately trying to find similarities between you and her. 

You were wearing a cupless white lace bra, one that he could’ve sworn he’d bought you only a few days prior. You hadn’t worn it yet, at least not to his knowledge, which meant you must’ve just gotten it in the mail. 

It was overwhelming to say the least. He couldn’t continue going on like this. He needed to know. 

He pulled out his phone, discreetly lingering outside of the women’s bathroom, always glancing around to make sure no one could see him. 

user1102: Bunny, I need you.

The second his thumb pressed send his gaze shot up to you once more, waiting to see your reaction. As much as his Bunny would sometimes tell him that she couldn’t play right that second, she’d always, without fail, answer his messages within seconds. 

He could see your attention shift from the mirror in front of you to your phone for a second as you slid your new shirt over yourself. His gaze sharpened, his cock twitched in anticipation, his breathing hitched. 

But instead you pressed one key and brought the device up to your ear, your soft, steady voice muffled by the distance between you. He sighed deeply, in defeat as he looked back down at his phone, his message unanswered. 

“Are you okay?” he almost jerked back as he heard you address him, concern lacing your voice. You were right beside him then, those round, doe eyes of yours that he loved so much wide and worried. 

He could simply nod, enough to satisfy you and yet not give you even an ounce of understanding into what was really going on. 

You all made it to the hotel later that night. He had quickly checked you all in since you were all about to drop. It had been a very long day to say the least and all you really wanted was to take an ice cold shower and go to sleep. 

“Alright,” he addressed the group. “Rossi, room 702, Reid and Morgan, room 705, JJ, room 806, Emily and–” his eyes met yours and he immediately lost his train of thought for a second before he handed the key cards to the raven haired woman beside you. “Room 807.”

He stepped back. “I’ll be down in room 604 if anyone needs anything. Back at the lobby at seven.”

With that you all shuffled towards the elevators, like a horde of zombies. You had been true to your word, practically cold plunging yourself in the shower and proceeding to put on some shorts and a baggy t-shirt to sleep in. 

Emily took the shower after you were done, your plan being to throw yourself on the bed and pass out immediately. But as luck would have it, your stomach practically screamed at you to feed it. 

You sighed deeply, crossing the room to see if room service was still open at the late hour only to realize it had just closed. You groaned in annoyance, the brat peeking through, your body starting to crave a different type of relief. 

Luckily there was a vending machine down on the sixth floor, so that’s where you found yourself, irritatingly making the trek down. The elevator doors opened directly into the hall with the vending machine and you practically came face to face with an equally tired Aaron, clad in his own gray shirt and loose pajama pants. 

You bit down on your lip, approaching him slowly. He saw you the second the elevator doors opened and it made him angry that he just knew it was you. There was something so specific about the air whenever you were around, it always felt lighter, smelled sweeter. 

“Hungry?” he asked as you approached and you nodded. 

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you replied and he leaned down to pick up the prepackaged sandwich he’d just gotten for himself. 

Your hand wrapped itself around the almost phallic, plastic wrapped item, his gaze slowly falling down your body until it landed on your chest. To say he visibly tensed up was an understatement. 

You frowned immediately, stepping forward, into his personal space, your own eyes searching for his but they were glued to your shirt. You looked down at yourself, concerned that maybe there was something on it that had offended him. It was rowdy, but nothing to write home about which only confused you further. 

“My college friends used to be in a band,” you explained, trying to lighten the mood. “They made like three of these shirts,” you laughed, clearly remembering fond memories. “Anyway, it’s silly and stupid, I know, but I still have it.”

He knew, he knew all of that, because he’d once called her– you while you were still in your pajamas, wearing that very specific shirt. You’d told him that same story, with a few more details of course, but still.

There was no denying it now, no way to twist the truth, no way to unknow what he now knew for certain.

His own hand pulled on the sandwich and your frown only deepened, as if the gesture itself had cut you so deep, had broken your heart so painfully. 

“It’s…uh– option three, sorry, I have to…” he was down the hall in record time, his heart pounding, his cock practically rock hard against his abdomen. He needed to calm down, needed to take a minute to compose himself, needed to get back to grab his phone so that he could—

user1102: Come to my room. 

The message confused you even more than Aaron just had. You were in no mood to deal with anyone, even the man you had made you feel more alive than you had in years. That’s when you noticed you hadn’t replied to him earlier, but whatever guilt you were feeling quickly washed away as anger settled in.

Who the fuck did they both think they were?

bouncingbunny1: ???

user1102: 604

The color drained from your face in an instant. No, it couldn’t be. There was no way, your brain was being absurd, you were being absurd. 

user1102: Now, bunny.

You gulped loudly, shaky legs somehow managing to lift carry down the hall. The bright light of the hallways almost sobering you up. Were you seriously about to do this?

At worst you walked over to his door, knocked and he stared at you confused and you’d just have to live with the embarrassment of coming up with a lie. At best…at best he opened the door and dragged you into his room, pressed his lips to yours, and finally gave you the satisfaction of fucking ruining you like you’d wanted your boss and user1102 to do for so long. 

You didn’t even get to lift your hand to knock on the door before it swung open aggressively and he stepped into your personal space, his tall, broad frame towering over you. 

“Oh, bunny,” he hummed. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to go looking for the big bad wolf?”

“No, Master.”

this was TOO SATISFYING TO WRITE I LOVE IT SO MUCH. it was crazy to go from soft boy mr. hotchner to just...insanity and power and control and i love how this turned out.

y'all better fucking FLOOD my inbox with asks for them.

tags: @xladyxdreamer, @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh

[hollowmem]

He never had chance to say he loved you

GN!Reader and John Price

TW: death

Day 17: “How do you tell someone the reason you are sad is because you love them” Price but it’s about reader who is gone

They’d been stationed outside the city for three days. Just long enough for the cold to settle into their bones and for the quiet between words to start meaning more than the words themselves.

Price stood beside you, cigar tucked between his fingers, half-smoked and forgotten. The night was cold enough to bite, breath ghosting into the dark. The vehicle’s metal hull radiated leftover heat, just enough to make leaning on it bearable. You stood with your arms crossed, half watching the treeline, half listening to Soap mumble something into the comms behind you.

“Do you ever think about what you’d be doing if you weren’t here?” you asked.

The question came out of nowhere, but you didn’t look at him when you said it. Just kept your eyes out in the dark, like you’d asked the trees instead.

He gave a low hum, something between interest and wariness. “Not here as in... this base? This country? Or not here as in the job?”

You exhaled slowly, lips twitching with a ghost of a smile. “The job, I guess. All of it. This whole life.”

Price looked at you. Not just glanced — looked. The sharp cut of your silhouette in the moonlight, the way your hands fidgeted slightly at your sleeves even though you looked calm. He didn’t answer right away.

“Not really,” he said finally. “Wouldn’t make much sense without the team.”

You turned your head then, glanced at him like you were trying to see if he meant it. “Even after everything? The ops, the losses, the blood—you're telling me this life still makes sense to you?”

He shrugged, but it was tight. “Only part that does is the people in it.”

You were quiet for a beat. Then: “That’s not a real answer, Cap.”

“No,” he said, voice a little rougher now. “It’s not.”

You didn’t push. You never did, not with him. But something lingered in your eyes — curiosity, maybe. Or something more dangerous. Something that felt like a beginning of a confession neither of you were brave enough to make.

“You know, sometimes I wonder if any of us would still choose each other if we met in another life. One without guns. Without war.”

He let out a low chuckle, almost bitter. “We wouldn’t. We’d be strangers passing in the street.”

“You don’t know” you said softly.

There was a moment. A beat too long.

He should’ve filled it. Should’ve said something reckless, something honest. I notice you too. I think about you too much. Don’t go tomorrow. But he didn’t.

Instead, he looked away and finished his cigar.

Just later that day they were clearing another structure, intel marking it as a possible weapons cache, but it was too clean. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that had warning bells ringing in the back of Price’s head before his boots even crossed the threshold.

“Keep sharp,” he muttered into comms, eyes scanning the alley. “Something’s off.”

You were ahead, moving in tandem with Ghost, your rifle steady, your steps cautious but confident. Like always. Like you weren’t scared of anything.

Then the world cracked.

First explosion went off near the rear. Gaz’s voice broke through static, sharp and panicked. “Sniper, west window—”

“Fuck—copy!” Soap responded.

Then you—calm and focused, like the blast hadn’t fazed you. “Cap, I’m going in. I can flank them—there’s a way through the side wall, I saw it earlier.”

Price’s heart jumped to his throat. “Negative. Wait for backup.”

“I’ve got it. Just cover me.”

Your voice was firm. Not reckless, just sure. Like you’d done this a hundred times. Like you didn’t know this was the time it would kill you.

“Wait, soldier—”

But you were already moving. Already gone.

He cursed, turned toward Ghost. “On me. She’s cutting through—”

The second explosion hit before he finished the sentence.

It came from the side wall. The one you’d just gone through.

A thunderclap of stone and steel and fire. The air punched out of his lungs. Dust rained down like ash. A scream broke over comms — Soap, maybe — and then nothing.

Dead silence.

He was already running.

The building was barely standing. Cracked open like a broken ribcage, smoke pouring out of its center. Rubble, glass, concrete, everything twisted and wrong.

“Price—” Ghost started behind him, but Price didn’t hear it.

He dropped to his knees beside the wreckage, pulling at slabs of wall with bare hands. Blood under his fingernails. Rage in his chest.

“Come on, come on—” he breathed. “You’re alright. You’re fine. Just a hit, just knocked out, you always get back up—”

Then Soap’s voice, hollow. “Cap…”

He didn’t want to look. But he did.

You were there. Partially buried, collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Dust coated your uniform. Your hand was on your sidearm, half-drawn. Your eyes weren’t open.

You’d tried. Even at the end, you’d still been fighting.

“Medic!” Price roared into the comms. “Now!”

But it was already too late.

The medic checked your pulse out of obligation more than hope. One glance told the story.

“Gone,” was all he said.

Price stared. Something inside him fractured.

Soap put a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off without looking.

“Get them out of here,” he muttered.

After they all came back from the mission, the base was quieter without you. It wasn’t supposed to be.

Your gear was still sitting on the bench in the ready room. Your mug — the one with the chip on the rim — still left in the sink. A scarf Soap had bought you last winter hung forgotten on the back of your chair.

No one touched any of it.

Price sat alone in his quarters that night, boots still muddy, hands still covered in the dust. A bottle of scotch sat unopened beside him on the desk. Next to it: a photo, face-down.

He flipped it over.

It was last Christmas. You were in the middle, grinning with a candy cane between your teeth, Soap and Gaz standing on both of your sides. Ghost was off to the side, halfway through flipping off the camera. Price was just outside the frame.

Always just outside the frame.

He stared at the photo for a long time. His hand hovered over it like he meant to pick it up. Instead, he dragged it slowly across the desk until it sat right in front of him. Then he stared some more.

He hadn’t cried. Not when the building fell. Not when they pulled you out. Not when he had to call in the loss over comms, voice flat and wrong in his own ears.

Not even at the funeral, where the flag was folded too tightly and the silence between salutes hurt worse than the gunfire.

But now, in the quiet, with no one left to see — he cracked.

Not loudly. Not with sobs. Just a sound low in his throat, thick like smoke, raw like gravel. Something breaking slow.

“I was gonna tell you,” he murmured, voice hoarse, like it hurt to get the words out. “One of these days.”

His fingers trembled. He clenched them into fists.

“You were the reason, y’know? The reason I kept it together. Every mission. Every damn day.”

He leaned back, jaw clenched so tight it ached.

“And now I’m sitting here trying to figure out how to tell anyone that the reason I’m fucked up over this… is ‘cause I loved you.”

It was the first time he said it out loud.

No one answered.

The silence didn't give anything back. He picked up the scotch, cracked the seal, and drank deep. The burn didn’t fix anything.

Nothing would.

[leclercstars]

ROCKSTAR. [pt.5]

Lando Norris x Oscar Piastri x Reader

I have gotten so so many requests and messages about this so here it is finally!! Hope u guys enjoy!

Summary: Lando invites you back to his hotel after the Las Vegas Grand Prix, and this time it's not just the two of you.

Warnings: 18+, oral sex, (m. and f. receiving) choking, threesome.

You were proven wrong. It was like Lando could hear your doubts as he overtook the other cars effortlessly and secured a second place spot. Oscar followed suit, snatching third place right out of George’s grasp. You stood at the base of the podium, whooping and cheering as the boys took their spots. They both made eye contact with you and it almost looked like they both winked. Did that just happen? Were you hallucinating after the long day? Whatever, even if they did it was probably meant for someone else.

You were in the Uber back to your hotel when your phone buzzed. It was a text from Lando, telling you to come to his hotel room at midnight. After you obviously said yes, another text quickly popped up.

“And what if Oscar was there too?”

Your heart started racing. A threesome with the Mclaren boys? What the fuck? I mean, it would legitimately be foolish to say no.

You stood outside Lando’s door at 11:58 p.m. 

“Be careful!” you heard someone chuckle as they walked past you. You looked to see who it was. Oh my fuck. It was Carlos Sainz. Your face reddened and you put your head in your hands. You didn’t want to seem like one of Lando’s little fucktoys.

The door opened to reveal Oscar and Lando standing together, already shirtless. Just like last time, it didn’t take long for things to get going.

Lando came over and stripped you of your hoodie and pajama shorts in record time, letting you keep on your lingerie for a little bit longer while he kissed along your jawline and down your neck. You suddenly felt someone’s gentle hands on your bare back, feeling their way down to the clasp of your bra. Lando’s kiss was so intoxicating you had nearly forgotten that Oscar was here. He was much gentler than Lando had been, taking his time to remove your lingerie, not just ripping it off your body.

Both of them could finally see the tits they signed all that time ago. Oscar’s hands grazed along both your nipples, teasing you gently and earning soft moans as you leaned back into his chest.

As soon as you were completely naked, Lando picked you up and threw you down on the bed. For all of Oscar’s gentleness earlier, the way he spread your legs apart certainly was not. He bit all along your inner thighs, while Lando watched you squirm and moan in frustration. When the tip of Oscar’s tongue grazed along your throbbing clit, you nearly cried out. 

“Let’s keep you a little quieter, shall we?” Lando mused as he positioned himself over your face. 

You took his cock deep into your throat, while Oscar still had his face planted between your thighs. You could hardly focus on swirling your tongue around Lando’s length as Oscar looked up at you, your wetness dripping all over his chin. It might have been the hottest thing you had ever seen, truly. Lando wasn’t going to let you stop paying attention to him, as he wrapped his hand around your throat while his cock was basically all the way down it. You could tell the way you gagged on it turned him on, feeling the pre-cum start to leak out all over your tongue. 

Oscar was bringing you closer and closer to the edge, and both boys could tell. Lando was moaning louder than you had ever heard before, and his sputtering gasps clued you in to the fact that he was close. It seemed like this wasn’t the first time him and Oscar had done this, because Oscar seemed to be able to tell too. He plunged two fingers deep inside you, stroking on your g-spot like he had done this to you a million times before. You and Lando came simultaneously, crying out around his cock as you swallowed his cum.

You looked up at Lando, who was grinning down at you, eyes full of lust. There was a spark between the two of you, at least sexually. You both looked down at Oscar, who seemed pretty sheepish for some reason. Then you noticed it. He had cum all over his abs, even though nearly of you had touched him.

“Sorry,” he chuckled quietly, running his hands through his hair with embarrassment.

“I’m taking that as a compliment, don’t even worry,” you replied back, honestly obsessed with the fact that he could cum just from eating you out. And watching you take his best friend’s dick. 

You got dressed and started to head out the door. 

“Maybe we’ll see you at the next one,” Lando winked at you as you walked out.