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#it's the effect Felix has on me

horrorknife · 3 months

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it is really crazy to me how ignored linda is in fanworks when i personally think shes great. and u cant even blame it on the lack of information either bc we know maybe 2 more things abt rosemary than linda. also insane to me how ppl are devoted to jack/rose like god himself made it but don't even talk abt how sad felix and linda are. like. Make felix gay or whatever if you want this isnt really about that (altho i do think hes often simply made gay bc ppl dont wanna care abt women + see a struggling married couple in the 70s for reasons completely outside of sexuality with no children and assume everyone involved is gay. Anyway), but like can we stop pretending he didnt care abt his wife .......... yeah sure its funny to make jokes abt him being into men or being bicurious and shit but theres a lot of canonical evidence to support them loving each other very much, and tbh i find their broken little fucked up marriage interesting. he wrote a SONG about her man it's just as agonizing as learning rosemary wrote songs about her husband for showstoppers.

idk maybe im crazy but i simply think its good character writing that gets overshadowed for the sake of lgbt headcanons when, like, their marriage is failing because of felix's addiction. the walten files is largely a story about addiction and how explosive and damaging it can be to addicts and the people around them.

#not to mention like...a lot of story elements get completely glazed over by the community at large #bc of how badly mischaracterized felix is within the fanbase LOL #straight up ive never seen anyone talk abt anything interesting w felix #its always like. jokes and memes. no one can take the character seriously #its just odd to me as a person who has suffered the effects of addiction via myself and others #like hmmm. topic hard so you dont wanna talk about it? you just wanna make everyone gay instead? ok.#youre boring.#jonah.txt

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felixfathom · 2 years

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i am not abandoning felix fathom everytime i start a new pretty series installment . think of it as setting him nicely into a little shelf with a comfy pillow and going to the store to get him other blorbos to keep him company

#i've got a long way to go before deciding on an Ultimate Ema Fave that can share the spot with felix #i'm LOVING lemon atm but i have a feeling i'll love amane and/or jennifer so i'm looking out for when it's THEIR moment #it could also be an unexpected fave tho ! who knows . pretty series has an Effect on me

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blue-jisungs · 8 months

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Hey! Loved the BTS arguing abt paying could u do it for skz??

arguing about paying ♡

author's note. thank uuu!! i hope u’ll like this one ^_^

psssst anon is talking about this thing here

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

yeah actually you won’t be able to pay for anything

like, ever

he’s just ??? using the leader card + it’s just how he is + the gentleman in him would rather die than let you pay

so even when you whine that you hate it and you can handle paying on your own

he’s cooing and shaking his head while the payment is already processed

and if you pout about it later, he’ll make sure to kiss the pout away ^_^

┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]

would rather bite his hand off than let you pay on a date

or bite you when you were about to pay…? totally did not happen at least twice…?

he’d get actually offended if you even offered to pay for the meal you two had

so he pays with a :] look on his face while you’re grumpy abt it

“what kind of boyfriend would i be then, hm?” asks and promises that in return, you can choose what you’re gonna have for dessert

whatever logic that is

┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]

you know that half amused half shocked half offended face he makes??

help idk how to explain it 😭

yeah that’s exactly the face he makes when you pay for your cosmetics

he’s like???

“you just offended my ego”

help ??

he’s SO dramatic about like ,, acts as if you shot him

he’ll have his hand on the small of your back, carrying your bags and he just pays for you with a goofy grin

“let me spoil my baby, hm?” is all he says with a handsome smile and you cave in bc he just has that effect on you…

┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]

drama llama.

gasps like he’s running out of air as you put the card to the scanner

you and the cashier are both like 🤨

when you leave the store he’s whining and clinging onto you as if you’re dying

for your own sake pls let him pay next time,, always

will actually threaten you to hold his breath next time 🧍‍♀️

bc he just wants to spoil you >:)

┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]

ji would let you pay for your makeup shopping

but then he’d feel bad :(

so next time when you’re about to pay for some clothes, he’s softly grabbing your hand and offers to pay

he literally looks like this > 🥺 so you have to agree

and that’s his trick: puppy eyes. no one can resist them :”)

┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]

“there’s naur way i’m letting you pay for all of that” is what he says when you two ordered like a half of the menu

so your response is to split the bill

he starts LAUGHING SO LOUD and refuses 😑

so he pays but “promises” you that you’ll be the one paying next time

and NEXT TIME looks literally the same

“nooo i ate most of it, i’ll pay” mhm.

he’ll come up with every excuse in the book so you don’t pay <\3

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

he’s making a poker face as soon as you even start asking if you should pay

and even when he’ll say no and you’ll STILL try

welp…

the waiter in the cafe said that your order was already payed.

and same thing happens literally everytime

seungmo somehow manages to pay in advance so um… good luck

┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]

will cry scream throw up if you say that you want to pay

eyes wide, mouth agape

“if you pay…… i’m breaking up with you!!!” he whines and adds something about his chivalry being dishonoured

um so yeah another whiny dramatic baby

and if you cave in and let him pay, he’s the happiest ever

acting as if he just saved your life and not paid for the bagel you got

masterlist <3

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @mirxzii ,, @kazmura ,, @primoppang ,, @vnsux

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hana-no-seiiki · 2 months

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Hi! Could I be ✨Anon? (Im not sure whats been taken already) I've been on a big Batfam kick these past few days and have a v indulgent request if it interests you.

Could I request something for a (gn) civilian reader who is friends w/ the Batfam, but recently got superpowers that are magical girl-esque? Neither of the parties knowing of the others Alter Egos. Here are some of my thought, but write the post however you'd like.

Reader was accidentally caught up in some commotion that involved stealing specialty cargo. One of them being an alien artifact, and reader uses it in desperation to save themselves. But now they have these sparkely, pretty, and showy powers that they never asked for. (And maybe a magical animal companion that insist they bring light and justice to Gotham)

Reader is reluctant to be a vigilante, but keeps finding themselves in situations to help people anyways.(Maybe its a side effect of being a magical girl) They end up fighting alongside the Batfam at some point, but they feel embarrassed to interact w/ them. Reader feels completely out of place with their colorful and over-the-top powers when next to the cool and brooding batfam.

Sorry if this idea is a bit out there, but ty for letting me be indulgent in your ask box 💕!!

NO CAUSE I FEEL THIS DYNAMIC SO MUCH.

I either have the friendliest vibe or the bitchiest vibe and no in between. Meaning that people either come to me for everything or think I’m a snob/will bite-

and sure non! i don’t really keep track of my anons nowadays so people can be whatever as long as it’s not listed in my pinned

BAT X MAGIC ✨

IN ANY CASE

I’m gonna mix Sailor Moon, Miraculous Ladybug and Onimai for my inspo with this ask if you don’t mind

Magical Girl/Boy/Person! Reader is really close friends with Tim and Damian. If there was one thing all three could agree on it’s that they loved superheroes in manga/comics.

And Reader? Boy did they adore the Batfam. There was just something about their dark, brooding aesthetic that they couldn’t get enough of.

So it was a tad bit ironic that they stumbled upon the most “girly”and “bright” power ever known to Gotham.

It didn’t help that your abilities had to be activated with cutely yelling things like “Sparkle Blast!” or “Smile Hurricane!”

I like to headcannon that you have a familiar or Kwami like creature that in exchange of keeping your identity magically hidden, absolutely bullies you by making the one above a requirement.

I headcannon that Damian has the PHATTEST crush on you. Like even moreso than the stalker, otaku Tim. Like he is just head over heels. You’re strong, you’re capable, you’re adorable?? But that mostly extends to just your magic persona rather than your real self. He’s super obvious about it to anyone but you too (similar to the og miraculous ladybug w/ felix instead of chat).

Tim is more interested on who tf you were. Like yes!!! Magical Person Hero!!! You were basically his childhood crushes incarnate!! But his inquisitive mind really needed to know who you were in order to calm himself down.

Jason is honestly a bit overwhelmed by your whole getup, but grows to love you the most in terms of how kind you are and how you help them even in the most dire of situations (not knowing that you were basically forced to)

He’s very much Tuxedo Mask type wherein he’d be very annoying to you when the disguises are off but an absolute Casanova with em on.

You and Dick are the most close when it comes to patrols and fighting. I feel like you, being the big fan you were, would make him look even more flashy and handsome during battle with sparkles and whatnot. I have a feeling he’d be the first to ask you out or fully romance you, as well as be the first to befriend you/contact you as a vigilante.

Bruce is definitely perplexed by how you always evade him in terms of your secret identity. It frustrates him to no end that whenever he gets close to finding out something either gets in his way or his mind just goes blank.

Once you explain how your magical persona works tho he’s pretty quick on the bandwagon, especially since he sees that his boys love you.

Also cause you look way too adorable to really be heinous.

…Right?

Once you break one of your familiar’s rules though, they do share your identity with the bats and well…

All hell breaks loose.

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skzdarlings · 2 months

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vexatious vixen ; felix x reader ; part 2/2

masterlist.

PART 2/2. READ PART 1 HERE. ( READ ON AO3. )

You always get what you want. When an unassuming security guard named Felix stops your latest venture, you escalate the stakes until he has no choice but to put you in your place.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: romantic comedy. strangers to enemies to lovers. cat-and-mouse. dom/sub dynamics, dom!felix and sub!reader. brat tamer!felix and brat!reader. everything that transpires is fully consensual with implied conversations on kink preferences, and an established colour safeword system before the scene. that being said, they still get a lil kinky. please heed the following content warnings: fear kink/cnc, hiding, chasing, lots and lots of dirty talk, fingering, blow jobs, face fucking, throat fucking, a little bit of crying, penetrative sex. (protected but dirty talk like it's not.)

(chapter word count: 7750 words.)

enjoy! <3

The gentlest nip of a summer breeze moves through the settling blue darkness. Everything feels romantic. Everything except the handcuffs chaining you to Felix, Security Guard of the Year, Man of the People, and Defender of Propriety and Pop Star Penis.

Felix does not look at you as he drags you away from the stadium. He smiles sweetly at passersby, doing his best to hide the handcuffs no thanks to your flamboyant gesticulations, but it dissolves again to that grim, determined countenance.

Felix has an interesting face, so many sharp lines, but the overall effect is somehow delicate. A body of contradictions, slender but strong, a stark masculinity rippling beneath the glittery prettiness he happily indulges in. Blue hair should not look that good on anyone, but you doubt anything could make him look bad. He sparkles like the glitter star on his cheek.

You poke that cheek. A muscle in his jaw twitches. He looks at you sideways, all pretty brown eyes and a constellation of even prettier freckles.

“Do not,” he says.

“Do not what?”

“Just. Do not.”

You obey his demand for silence. For about six seconds.

“So how long have you been a security guard?” you ask amiably.

“You’re really trying to have a normal conversation with me,” he says. “Now? After that introduction?”

“I prefer the term meet-cute.”

“We wrestled on the ground then you handcuffed us together and threw away the key—”

“Adorable.”

“Right.” He picks up his speed. You could easily keep pace but you decide to stagger along like he is too fast for you, whining as he drags you behind him. Felix sighs but slows his pace. To your surprise, he answers your question. “A month,” he says. “I’ve been working there a month.”

“And you’re already gunning for CEO,” you say. “Considering how dedicated you are to bringing justice—”

He slams to a stop. Your chain jingles when you collide, hands smacking together. He faces you. Wisps of blue escape from his half-ponytail to dance across his face.

“I already told you,” he says. “My job is checking tickets. Chasing you down was my personal pleasure.”

“You’re a sick bastard,” you say.

He smiles. It is a gentle smile, seemingly sympathetic out of nowhere, his eyes softening with the lift of his brow. He has an uncanny ability to make softness more threatening than roughness. It gives you a shiver.

“Let me guess,” he says. “You don’t have a job, do you, sweetheart? You can’t hold one down. You don’t know how. Your parents have money and it’s nice, sure, but they were overbearing your whole childhood, weren’t they? Until one day they decided you were grown and just stopped caring. And now you’re out in the world with no more rules and you don’t know how to deal with it. Except by acting out. It’s fun, right? Looking for trouble. Makes you feel something for a minute. Because even though you have everyone fooled into thinking you’re this wild and carefree person, you’re locked up inside. You’re not scared of consequences because you’re already trapped. Oh, uhh, stop me if I’m getting cold, yeah?”

You just stare as he blithely runs his pretty mouth.

“You don’t really care about the prize, it’s just about the chase,” he continues. “You told me I was a good boy, yeah? Your words. And you think you’re bad. A bad, bad girl,” his deep voice drops even more, like the heavy-handed thud of a low blow, striking some place intimate inside you, “but that’s not really true, is it?”

He smiles that particular smile again, full of affection and tenderness, an expression that is completely alien to your brash and aggressive nature.

“Deep, deep down, you just want to be good,” he says. “But you need to earn it to enjoy it, don’t you? You need someone to tell you that you can, that it’s okay. But you don’t make it easy. And you’ve been running for so long, you probably can’t even remember how it feels when someone cares enough to catch you.”

You suddenly feel the weight of the handcuffs. You expected this dull pretty boy to have a hidden mean streak to rival your own, not for him to blast through your barriers and drag your innermost thoughts to the surface. To say nothing of his perfect speculation on your background.

“So what, you’re some kind of stalker with a philosophy major?” you ask.

He is still smiling.

He laughs, a low chuckle. He looks like a star, glittering silver and blue in the moonlight.

“No, I’m not,” he says. “I’m just the same as you. Vexatious, apparently, because I’m all smiles all the time. Just so good, you know?” He is almost theatrical in tone. “Of course, that’s technically the opposite of you. Isn’t it?”

When you don’t answer, he touches your chin, just his fingertips. It is still enough to guide your face to his, locking eyes.

“I said, isn’t it?” he asks, his tone sharper.

If he is insinuating that you are only pretending to be bad, then that means he is only pretending to be good. If you are secretly good, then he is secretly—

His mouth hovers close to yours. He abruptly steps back.

Oh. You blink quickly. Yes. Of course. It is always the real bad boys who take care to be good, isn’t it? He does not need to flaunt it. He can just smile at you.

“Come on,” he says, interlocking your fingers with his. He tugs you along, humming to himself as he leads you down the street. So seemingly innocent. Grinning to himself like the cheshire cat.

You stare at those freckles, the glitter stars, his dimples.

A vexatious vixen, indeed.

“So that Jisung guy,” you say. “The one who gave you these handcuffs. He thinks you’re a nice guy who needs some adventure in his life. It was just a prank gift and he thought he was being funny.”

“Yup,” Felix says, popping the sound.

“Little does he know you’re actually some sick and twisted pervert,” you say.

“Tsk,” he says, looking at you with a cheeky grin, as if to say what a silly girl you are. “I’m not sick. See, unlike you who bothers everyone whether they like or not, I only chase the ones who like to run. Twisted, on the other hand… well…”

The handcuffs jingle, strung around your joined hands like the red string of fate. You look at each other, starlight on your faces, a noisy arena behind you and a game ahead of you.

You smile back at him.

You still intend to win.

It is a twenty minute walk. Your conversation weaves around implications, some very forthright flirtations, and a couple scandalizing explanations. Despite his previous goading, Felix is far more reserved in his desires. He blinks when you describe a very dirty scenario and get detailed. Very, very detailed.

“Um, right,” he says. “Fun as that sounds, I’m pretty sure that constitutes as a human rights violation.”

“So?”

“I, uhh, prefer to do things that don’t get me put on an Interpol watch list.”

“Coward.”

You nonetheless accept this and describe a totally different scenario. He looks a little wan.

“Where would I get a rocket launcher?” he asks when you are finished.

“I dunno, get creative. My friend Seungmin once—oh shit, my friends!”

“Wait, huh? Your friend Seungmin has a rocket launcher…?”

You take out your phone to find a gathering collection of texts from Seungmin and Minho, ranging from teasing you about losing your touch to asking if you got arrested and they need to bail you out. Your friends are a nightmare which is why you like them, but they always get you out of trouble in the end.

You confirm you are safe, that you already left, and that you are trying to have sex with a hot, insane, kinky sadist of a security guard.

“You know I can read everything you are typing right now,” Felix says. “I am standing right beside you. You’re typing with a hand literally attached to mine.”

“Well, mind your own business.” You do not bother hiding your texts.

“You are giving them my name and address,” Felix replies. “It sounds like my business.”

“Well, it’s not. We’ve already established the world revolves around me. You’re the supporting character, pal.”

“Right,” he says. He blinks at the screen. In a more serious voice, he asks, “Do you want the postal code too?”

It never hurts to be thorough. You type the address and send it to the boys.

Good thing you waxed, Seungmin writes.

Felix squints at the screen and tilts his head like a curious cat. “You waxed for a concert?” he asks, giving you a once-over. “What did you think was gonna—”

“I am prepared for every eventuality,” you interrupt. “It’s why I always win.”

He holds up your handcuffed wrists and cocks an eyebrow. “Is this what you call winning?” he asks.

You smirk, your whole expression bright despite the suggestive wiggling of your eyebrows. “Matter of opinion, I suppose,” you say. “And my opinion is the only one that matters.”

“Right,” he says, forcing a frown. Despite his efforts, a smile is tugging at his lips. He suffices to roll his eyes and march ahead, yanking you along behind him. “Come on,” he says. “We’re almost there.”

Once your friends have your information, you put your phone in your little purse. You turn the corner and find yourself looking at an absolutely gorgeous house. Your jaw drops as Felix leads you up the driveway. It is an ostentatious design to say the least. You pass a gate mounted with two lion statues.

“Not my style,” he says when you gawk at the stone kitties. “This place belongs to my parents. They usually rent it out but they let me live here while I go to school.”

“So you weren’t kidding,” you say, a funny sensation in your chest and stomach. “About your background, I mean. You and me really are alike.”

You realize the sensation in your chest is an inkling of feelings. Genuine, heart-felt, soul-stirring feelings. You look at Felix and see a lot of yourself, though he is like a mirror version, exactly the same and completely the opposite. It makes you huff, holding a hand to your stomach like you can control the butterflies there.

“What’s wrong?” Felix asks, pausing at the front door.

“When was the last time you had a feeling?” you ask.

“A… feeling?” he asks. He stands silent for a long moment. When he realizes you are not going to elaborate, he asks, “What kind of feeling?”

“Just a feeling,” you say. “You know.”

“Uhh.” He blinks quickly. “I have feelings all the time. Every day.”

“Wow,” you say. “That sounds exhausting. Explains a lot about you.”

“All right.” He shakes his head. He reaches into his back pocket and fishes out a set of house keys, twirling them around his fingers until he finds the right one.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I threw those keys too?” you ask.

He gives you an exasperated look. You grin.

With a shake of his head, he sighs and unlocks the door. The foyer lights flicker to life and the house alarm starts ringing. It gives you a punch of adrenaline which has the predictable effect of getting your blood pumping. Your body does not know the difference between fear and desire. You have only been here two seconds but you are already licking your lips.

Felix is none-the-wiser. He flips open the alarm panel and punches in a code. It beeps and goes quiet. You look at each other in the soft golden glow of the foyer lamplight. He still looks stupidly pretty, blue hair and glitter, sleeveless shirt and jeans. Unassuming, gentle, sweet. Not at all like he could throw you over his shoulder or manhandle you in the grass. But he can. He did.

“Come on,” he says, tugging on the chain between you.

You feign disinterest but your eyes scour his space. You pass through the kitchen where there is an array of baking utensils drying in the dishes rack. The entire kitchen is clearly maintained with great care. The rest of the space is a little chaotic, shelves and desks and units overflowing with technological equipment that you can neither recognize nor name.

“I build computers,” he says, catching you staring at the pile of miscellaneous parts. “Sorry for the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.”

This is uttered dryly and you wave it away. You do not want to admit you find it somewhat endearing. Your hobbies primarily consist of keeping the local PD on their toes, but you appreciate the practice of a craft. It only adds another layer to this weird dude, pretty but athletic but intelligent but ridiculous but charming but geeky. And just as competitive and crazy and freaky as you.

“Bedroom’s this way,” he says. “And, uh, don’t get any ideas.”

“Too late,” you answer, though truthfully your filthier fantasies are fracturing in wake of the reality of him. The computers, the baking tools, the wall of games and consoles, collectible toys and ughhh why did he have to be kind of adorable and secretly have a personality. Mutual objectification is more your style. Not quivering under a gentle touch and feeling… feelings.

“You look like you are thinking way too hard,” Felix says, pausing at his bedroom door. “It’s freaky.”

“Not thinking anything,” you say, because you are too busy feeling to be thinking. Ugh. You shake it off and push open his bedroom door.

He shakes his head and leads you in. He has a pretty elaborate gaming setup, the rest of the room plain in comparison. His bed is neatly made and you cannot help but envision a mess of sheets. Yes. That is more your thing. Taking that sweet and gentle façade and corrupting it, right down to the core. You want him to lose control. You want to drive him crazy. You want to draw this out, use the handcuffs and—

“Aha,” he says. “Right here.”

He pulls open a bedside drawer. A pair of handcuffs is sitting inside it, the key right on top. He takes it out and immediately unlocks you.

The cuffs fall to the floor. He scoops them up and jingles them in your face.

You stare at them then slowly meet his gaze.

“Oh,” you say. “You evil son of a bitch.”

He looks at you with a soft little pout, like he cannot imagine why you would be upset and you are hurting his oh-so sensitive feelings. But he knew you wanted to play him. He knew you wanted the handcuffs a little longer. Now there is no reason to linger. Now you can just walk out the door and never see him again.

He is going to make you ask for it.

That is not your style. You hate being out-smarted. And you really, really, really hate losing.

“Right,” you say. “I guess that’s it then.”

“Guess so,” he says. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

You are still standing in his bedroom. It is dark but there is an elaborate lighting rig around his computer, all bright blue neon and blinking lights. You are swimming in blue, breathing it in. His hair, the room, and moonlight.

You will never see this colour the same way again. Of that much you are certain.

“Blue,” you say.

His brow crinkles. “Blue?” he repeats.

“Mm.” You look around the room, pretending you are unbothered by the intensity of his gaze. “Red. Yellow. Green. Colours can say a lot, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” he says, exhaled on a breath. The neon light catches the little star on his cheek, glinting at you. He is dazzling. This moment is larger than life.

You take a step back, holding his gaze.

“Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for go…” you drawl, backing out of his room. “It’s amazing what you can say with just a colour…”

“Uh-huh,” he says. He looks at you like he did at the arena, maybe even more intensely. Now he knows what you are capable of doing. Now you understand each other.

He follows you, assessing every step you take. There is a subtle flex to the lean muscles of his arms, reminding you that while he is beautiful, he is also capable of more.

“And what does blue mean?” he asks. “To you?”

You walk backwards, an unspoken understanding that once you turn your back, the game begins. So you hold his gaze, smirking, inviting. The foyer lights flash on and gold light fills the space between you, casting shadows across your smiling faces.

He walks like a predatory cat, slow and smooth. His confidence is easy. He needs no grand display of machoism. He just smiles that pretty pink mouth. The glitter on his cheek sparkles.

“Blue is the colour we show on the outside,” you say, “when deep down we really want something else.”

“I see,” he says. Abruptly, his intensity vanishes when he laughs and says, “Put it back.”

Somehow, despite diverting his attention, he still saw your slight-of-hand. You swiped the closest object, a little jewel-encrusted clock on the nearby table. You waited until your body obscured the view but he still saw.

He can read you that easily, predict your moves that well. Because it is not as though he loves the clock. It stands out from his things, clearly one of the ostentatious designs, courtesy of his parents. You can read him that easily too. He does not like gaudy, shiny little knick-knacks. He likes neon and blue and you.

“Put what back?” you ask. You have reached the front door. Your hands are behind your back, the bauble in one, the other twisting the doorknob.

“I’m not gonna ask twice,” he says.

You push the door open.

“I’ll give it back, if that’s what you really want,” you say. With a suggestive little smirk, you ask, “So what’s your colour?”

Red to stop. Yellow to pause. Green to give in.

“Blue,” he says. To play.

You smile. You hold up the bauble, wink, then zip it into your purse.

“In that case,” you say, “you’ll have to catch me first.”

His expression changes in an instant, that playful giggling gone as quickly as it came. He breathes and it fills him, makes him look sturdy, makes him look ready.

“Sweetheart,” he says. “Don’t make me do this.”

The softness of the pet name is completely undone by the dark tone of his voice. There is nothing soft about him. He is ice cold blue and burning red heat at once, searing you with his eyes, the way they rove your whole body. You feel each glance. A shiver races down your spine. Instinctively, your body braces itself, fearful of that voice and that gaze.

It also gets you so, so hot.

All that tension snaps.

You turn and run, bolting down the driveway and past the fancy gate. You are quick on your feet, practiced and lithe. You show him no mercy this time. Earlier you were unprepared, severely misjudging his capabilities, but you will not make the same mistake again.

You glance over your shoulder. He is no where to be seen so you slow your pace, bemused.

A minute later, he comes tearing around the corner and your heart starts pumping again. Just like back at the arena, he grins as he thunders after you.

An instinctive little yelp leaves your mouth. You resume your pace, booking it for the corner of the block. There is a little patch of green park so you run there, disappearing between the bushes.

It seemed like a good idea but the streetlight barely breaks the thick tree branches. It is darker and eerier here, genuine fright overcoming you. You come to a clumsy stop, fumbling with your purse to grab your phone. A flashlight will stop you tripping, but it will also lead Felix right to you.

You hear him behind you, clambering through the bushes. Your heart leaps. The darkness makes you forget this is all pretend. You run without a light, dashing down the narrow path and squinting for even a glimpse of street light. You need to get out of the bushes otherwise you risk falling on your face, then he will be right on top of you in seconds. But running on the road will expose you too quickly.

You will not surrender that easily. He knows that.

Torn between the garden and the road, you get a brilliant idea. You dash back onto the street and hope it takes him a minute to follow. He is not behind you so you race back to his house.

There is no way he will circle back here. He knows you want a chase, so a chase is what he anticipates. He would never guess you ran back into his house. Oh, you can’t wait for the look on his face when he finds you perched on his bed, feigning boredom as you wait.

You run back up the driveway. The front door is closed and you crash right into it, assuming it would be unlocked. Nope. He locked it. Maybe that is why he was delayed.

You spin around, halfway expecting to find him there, ready to push you up against his door and cage you in. But no, you are still winning. He is undoubtedly still running through those bushes. He will circle the whole block before heading back here.

You hurry down the side of the house, looking for any open windows. You do not think he had time to set the alarm. Did he? Maybe that is why he was so far behind.

The side gate is unlocked so you slip into the backyard. You come to a surprised stop because it is a beautiful landscape. The greenery is pristine and there are little couches and chairs scattered around. There is a shed, some storage trunks, a fire pit. In the middle of everything is a pool, sparkling blue in the golden lamplight. Of course.

You do not rush. You cross the yard in a slow walk, taking a moment to catch your breath. You strategize your next move. Should you pose on one of the pool chairs? Wait by his back door and knock when he gets home?

Your thoughts are interrupted by a low hum. Someone is making their way down the side of the house.

You panic. You are often caught scampering around places you are not supposed to be, so instinct propels you to hide. You run to one of the storage trunks and duck behind it.

No sooner have you hidden does Felix stroll into the backyard. He is a little dishevelled, a few strands of hair escaping from his half-ponytail, but he seems mostly unbothered. He moves at a leisurely pace, humming to himself as he swings the gate open.

He pauses there, leaning against the tall fence. You are quite certain the world has never been this quiet.

“I know you’re here,” Felix says, his deep voice shattering the silence.

Your heart leaps into your throat. You should have known better. Of course he had the same idea as you. Now what? How can you outsmart someone who can predict your every move?

You peek around the storage trunk. Felix is smiling, all dimples and delight. Even his eyes are glittering as he swings the gate shut. He looks across the yard as he curls his fist around the padlock. He slams it shut, effectively locking you in with him.

So that is why he took so long. He unlocked the gate before giving chase. He laid a trap and you ran right into it.

His walk is more of a prowl, a slow but steady tread across the grass.

“Come out, come out,” he sing-songs, uncannily chipper.

You cannot believe you are about to be beaten so quickly. It has your head spinning, your heart racing from your run, your adrenaline pounding as he approaches.

Your heart tempers itself when he stops. He pokes his head around the fire pit to see if you are hiding there.

“Sweetheart,” he says, casting his gaze around the yard. “You don’t need to hide. I promise I’m not mad.” He strolls around the pool, looking from here to there, even up at the trees. He hums thoughtfully to himself. “Now, now… If I was a troublemaker who needed to learn a lesson, where would I hide…” He ducks behind a pool chair, frowning. “Hmm, hmm, hmm…”

He stands for a minute, tapping his chin. You want to glean some semblance of your surroundings, but you do not want to take your eyes off him. You are convinced if you do, he will manifest right beside you. So you look at the house then at him, the gate then at him, the trees then at him. You almost want to scream. He is not even moving and he has you completely captivated, every last sense in your body attuned to him.

“Pleeeeease,” he says in a long drawl, a cute little tone. He ambles over to a different storage trunk and lifts the lid. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

He slams the lid down so hard it makes the unit wobble. Even though you are far away, it makes you jump. You have to cover your mouth to stop a yelp from escaping.

You stare as he leans over the other unit, peering behind it. He huffs in frustration when he finds nothing. Despite the angry grimace, when he stands upright, he is wearing that saccharine smile.

“You’re hurting my feelings, sweetheart,” he says. “I thought we were turning into friends. Don’t you want to be my friend?”

He flings a chair out of his way, then swiftly drops to his knees to peer under the picnic table. He is getting closer, bit by bit, which is somehow more terrifying than if he beelined right at you.

He is giving you time, you realize. He wants you worked up. He wants your heart racing. He wants you quivering and soft and afraid.

You look around frantically, searching for an escape.

Your hope rises then plummets. The back door is ajar but that is an obvious trap. It leads into the house but there is no way you are crossing the yard without him seeing you.

You jump at another slam. It was the shed door. He is stepping inside it, rifling through the yard tools in case you are crouched inside.

“Come on,” he says into the shed. “Don’t be scared.”

You take a deep breath. You have only seconds to cross the yard while his back is turned. You do not waste another moment, jumping to your feet and running as quietly and as quickly as you can.

He is just as quiet. You shriek at the sudden arm that catches you, just like it did at the arena. Felix tackles you onto the grass again, pushing you down on your back and covering your mouth.

You wrestle him, just like last time, ignoring his laughter as you claw and bite at him.

“You’re a little mean, you know that?” he says, waving his hand after narrowing dodging your teeth. He dives back in, undeterred, grabbing your face in one hand. “Yeah, that’s it,” he says. “Fight me. Brat.”

You do not surrender easily, but he manhandles you with the same effortless skill as before. There is no doubt he has training that you lack, flipping you in his arm then pushing you down on your front. You kick your legs as he straddles your backside. He brings your hands together on the base of your spine.

You know what is coming and it makes you shriek with frustration. Just like last time, he slaps the handcuffs on your wrists and locks your hands behind your back.

“You stupid little—” you start, your words stifled when he puts his hand over your mouth and yanks your head up. He holds the handcuff key in front of your face, then makes a show of throwing it. You are pretty sure it is still in his fist, but the very idea has you whimpering into his palm.

“That’s better,” he says, slowly taking his hand off your mouth. It hovers like he expects you to start screaming. You just exhale heavily, glaring. “All right,” he says. “Very good. Come on.”

You play at obedience long enough to get off the ground. He helps you stand, then you immediately kick at him. He tries to grab your leg but you dodge the swipe of his hand, running the opposite way.

Your balance is thrown, dizzy from the takedown and the handcuffs. He catches you quickly. You yelp when he sweeps you off your feet, boasting all that hidden strength again.

He carries you over to the deck where he drops down, sitting with his legs spread to fit you in between. With your back to his front, he pulls you against him, an arm across your chest to keep you pinned together.

“Oh fuck you,” you say, wriggling helplessly.

“Not quite,” he says, laughing. “I’ve been picturing something else.”

He covers your mouth again, catching your shriek when he tugs your shirt open. The flannel falls down your shoulders and he yanks the tank top down, getting a handful of everything you inadvertently flashed him earlier.

Despite the force of his initial touch, he is not rough. You might have kept your cool if he was; you are used to rough, fast, hard. But his hand is tender, almost loving, a slow touch that trails from your neck down your chest, thumb circling the peak of your nipple before he squeezes your curves in the cup of his hand. It is maddeningly slow and careful, your whining trapped in the palm of his hand.

“This is what I was picturing,” he says. It sounds like a growl, his deep tone just above a rough whisper. His lips graze your ear and you shiver.

You gasp, taking in deep gulps of air when he frees your mouth. A weak whimper is all you manage when he hooks his legs around yours and pries them apart. His hand dives down to your shorts, making swift work of the buttons.

“Yup, just what I thought,” he says as his fingers sink inside you. “Do you feel that?” he asks, as if your attention could be on anything but the thorough, rolling touch of his fingers, torturing the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. He slides his fingers into you with no resistance whatsoever. He starts finger-fucking you, laughing when you moan, when you rear up under his hand for more. “Mmm, yeah, you want it don’t you?” You try to resist but it is hard, especially when he teases you, making you chase him with your hips. He just laughs again, slowing his touch maddeningly. “God, that’s hot,” he says. “You might be a brat but your pussy... It’s begging for it, isn’t it? Does it like this, sweetheart, hmm? Hmm?”

He is absolutely torturing you, rubbing those swollen nerves to the crest of an orgasm then withdrawing, again and again, until you swear it burns. You make a strangled sound, clutching his hand on your chest, still cupped possessively on your naked breast.

“Tell me,” he says. “Tell me how much you want me to make you come.”

“Mmmph,” is your oh-so intelligent reply.

“You can do better than that,” he says. “Come on. Show me how much you want it. You can’t lie to me, sweetheart. I can feel it, hmm? Gonna feel it when you come. Gonna feel your pussy get nice and tight around my fingers, asking for it, baby—oh yeah, what’s that? What’s it want?”

“Ugh, fuck you,” you whine.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart,” he says. “Fuck you. You can run that pretty mouth but I know what you really need. You’re gonna be begging me for my cock, to fill you up and make you feel all full for real. Isn’t that right? Go on. Show me you want it. Show me.”

Your chest is heaving. Your eyes close. You concentrate on that orgasm, chasing it desperately. It approaches rapidly and your thighs start shaking.

He covers your mouth again, once more predicting you. He knows you are about to come. This time he takes you right over, groaning in your ear, clutching you tight while never once slowing the deft thrust of his hand. You scream into his palm, the intensity of the orgasm washing over you. The blue light of the pool flickers even with your eyes closed, seeing nothing but blue, blue, blue. He surrounds you, his voice, his moans, his touch.

Your hips buck, your heart skipping a frantic beat when pleasure turns to sensitivity. He chuckles but stops, dropping his hand off your mouth. You catch your breath, slumping against his chest.

He touches your face with the hand he just used to fuck you, wet fingers streaking across your mouth as he turns your head. You blink at him and part your lips just for him to shove his fingers in your mouth. You cannot help but moan, eyes closing as you suck the tangy wetness right off his fingers. You watch when he takes them back, when he licks them for himself. Strands of blue fall across his forehead. He looks as flushed and filthy as you feel.

He grins around his fingers. Then he grabs the back of your neck and pulls your face to his. He kisses you for the first time with the taste of your pussy on both your mouths. His kiss is deep and bold, as if you are already his. You are dizzy when he stops, gasping when he pecks your lips with sweet, chaste little kisses.

“Gonna uncuff you now,” he says softly. “Because for what we do next…” He grabs you by the throat and you mewl, clenching around nothing when he rolls his hips under you, showing you how hard he is. “Yeah, sweetheart. For that, I need all of you.”

You sit quietly while he uncuffs you. You feign complacency, standing on shaky legs when he guides you upright. You fix your shirt, glaring at him, though it is a little harder while you are still catching your breath.

He was right about one thing; you need him like you have never needed anyone. You are throbbing, completely and totally aching with the loss of his touch. You have never felt such clear pulsations, your body begging for more even while your expression is petulant.

You follow him to the open door. One step, two steps.

Then you say, “Blue.”

You take off running into the house.

He laughs incredulously, not even making an attempt to grab you.

He slams the door shut behind him. You skid to a stop in the hall, listening to the gentle beeping of the alarm as he arms it from the inside. It is the same quiet threat as the padlock; there is no escape.

Giddy, excited, practically vibrating with anticipation, you run and hide. There are boxes and tables piled high with gadgetry, not to mention his couch and bookshelves and general appliances. Plenty more places to hide than that big back yard. And when he finally does find you, when you have worked him up the way he worked you up—

That is what winning is all about.

You sit in your hiding place, breathing hard.

“Sweetheart,” Felix says in that too-sweet voice. His footsteps are slow, unhurried, casual. “Stop hiding. I said I didn’t want to hurt you, but if you keep this up…”

You peer at him between some boxes. He stops in the middle of the room, catching his breath too. The glittering amusement has left his eyes. They are narrowed, his flushed cheeks and sweaty hairline only exacerbating his predatory air.

He unties his half-ponytail, then bends over to run his fingers through the length of it. He flips back up, all that blue falling prettily in place. He licks his lips as he prowls through the room, looking behind boxes, ducking under tables.

You shuffle with him, moving when he does. He checks your previous hiding space with a jaunty, “A-ha!” then curses.

“Come on now,” he says, turning around. He smiles like a shark, all teeth, hungry despite the innocent flash of a dimple. “You’re only hurting yourself,” he says. “I know you, sweetheart. You’re in here somewhere, and you can’t tell me you’re not thinking about what it’s gonna feel like when I catch you, yeah? Hmm. You’re fast. I bet you’re flexible too. I bet I can get you into all sorts of positions. Get you making all sorts of noises for me…”

It is a struggle to be quiet as you move. Your limbs are still shaky. Every word out of his mouth makes your breath catch.

You swallow hard, freezing when he pauses. Did he hear that? Maybe not. He turns the other way, heaving a deep sigh before he laughs. It lacks amusement, a harsh sound as he turns and turns.

“Come out, come out,” he sing-songs. In a harder voice, he snaps, “Stop hiding from me.” Then he smiles again. He turns in your direction slowly. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

You cover your mouth, cowering down when he seems to look right at you. Your heart is pounding so hard, you would not be surprised if he could hear it, even feel it, shaking this whole damn house.

“If you come out on your own,” he says, “I promise to make you feel good. You’ll come so hard, you’ll forget how scared you are.”

You keep that hand over your mouth, fighting to keep quiet. It stifles a shriek when he suddenly waves at you, a drole little finger-wiggle.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he says. He crouches down, putting himself at eye-level, peering between the boxes that shield you. “Don’t make me come get you,” he says. “I’ve been nice, haven’t I? Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.”

You shuffle to the side. He slaps a hand over his face, shaking his head while he laughs.

“Right,” he says. “Fine. We’ll do it that way.”

You bolt when he does, shrieking as you clamber around some equipment to get away. You manage to escape to the foyer, cursing when the automatic lights flash on. It feels like a spotlight, illuminating you in the middle of that big empty space with no where to hide.

You can hear Felix stomping after you. You scurry into the kitchen, looking around frantically for somewhere to hide.

You yelp when he bursts in behind you. This time, he does not give. He grabs you roughly when you try to run again. With very little effort, like you are scarcely more than a mild inconvenience, he lifts you off your feet and slings you over his shoulder. He says nothing while you curse and squirm and slap his back.

“You know what I wonder?” he eventually says, marching you right into the bedroom. “I wonder… if I make you cry, is that gonna make you tighter, you think?” He slides you down his body, holding you flush against him. He smiles. “Worth a shot, no?”

And then he handcuffs your wrist to his wrist and tosses the key across the room.

“Oops,” he says.

He grabs your throat and you gasp, spilling onto the bed when he pushes you. He puts your on your back then straddles your chest, swiftly unbuttoning his jeans.

“Open up,” he says, practically prying your mouth open, just giggling when you bite at him. “If you bite me,” he says, two fingers shoved deep in your mouth, “I promise, I’ll give you something to be fucking scared of.”

You were right. You will never see the colour blue the same way again. You will never be able to settle for anything less than Felix again.

With a whimpery sigh, you relent, blissful as your mouth falls open. He shoves his clothes out of his way, just enough. He is rock hard and wet at the tip when he guides your mouth around his dick. He cradles your head gently, even if the rest of him is not gentle.

You moan, your pussy literally twitching for attention as he shoves into your throat and makes your eyes water. You take him well and he groans, pulsing in your mouth when tears start running down your face. He fucks your mouth and throat, a back and forth that has your seeing stars. Eventually he pulls back, laughing as runs his fingers through his hair.

“Oh, baby,” he says. He reaches down to wipe a tear. “I wanted to do that the second you started mouthing off to me.”

“Asshole,” you say, though it comes out with a giggle.

He laughs, sliding down your body to get between your legs. He gets your shorts and underwear out of his way, kissing across your pussy and up your stomach. He lifts your shirt and crosses your breasts with his mouth, leaving little bite marks in his wake.

With the hand cuffed to yours, he interlocks your fingers sweetly, pressing it into the mattress. Then he swoops up. He kisses you, his tongue a soothing touch after everything.

You moan, literally shaking with need as he smiles against your lips. He speaks in that low, rasping voice when he says, “I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you realize you’re gonna come all over my cock.”

“Oh god,” is your rough reply.

“It’s Felix,” he says. “You’re gonna be screaming it in a second, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

He has a condom in his bedside drawer. Though you see him put it on, he still leans down to dirty talk, holding your throat as he whispers, “Was gonna be nice and wrap it, but you don’t like it nice, do you?” He spreads your legs with his own, pushing down with his hips. You whimper when the head of his cock glides over where you are very wet and very needy. “No, sweetheart,” he says. “I’m gonna have all of you. And you – are gonna – take it.”

He punctuates this with short thrusts, gradually easing inside you. You moan, canting your hips to meet him, needing more. When he starts fucking you in earnest, your whole body gets pliant like it never has before. You let him hold you, tethered to him by the handcuffs and something else, something to do with those feelings inside you. You let them melt into the physical sensations. When he touches you, working you into an orgasm while he is deep inside you, it all washes over you. You come with a cry, screaming his name just like he said.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he says. Your bodies are flush together, chests touching, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. His face is in your neck when he laughs. It is not a fake laugh, not coloured darkly, but ringing with true amusement. “What’s your name?” he asks.

You laugh too, whispering it against his mouth when he leans in to kiss you. He groans, kissing you, and says your name against your lips when he comes. It binds you to him more effectively than the handcuffs.

You lay there for some time afterward, all that pent-up adrenaline taking its time to dwindle. He lays on your chest, your free hand in his hair, stroking it. Eventually he looks at you with wide eyes.

“I’m not, you know, like that, I mean—” he says.

“I know,” you reply, massaging the nape of his neck. You get uncharacteristically bashful. Usually your partners, being more dominant, are the ones offering consolation to you, and you seldom need much. Felix, you can tell, needs something, and it draws something out of you that you hardly knew existed. Something tender and soft, that enjoys touching him and soothing him and making him smile.

“Do you still have that, uh, feeling?” he later asks.

You nod. He smiles.

“Me too,” he says.

“That’s nice. Can we get the handcuff key now?” you ask, making him laugh.

The handcuffs end up on the floor with your clothes.

This is usually the part where you run away, but you think you are done with running for a while. You lay down with Felix, side by side, washed in the neon blue light. You take a breath and roll onto his chest, resting your head there, and he runs a hand down your back in a soft caress.

“I’m just glad I didn’t wax for no reason,” you break the silence, making him snort. He slaps a hand over his face, shaking his head. “What! Don’t look at me like that or I’ll try and sneak into another concert when you’re on the clock.”

“Mm, will you?” he asks, grinning. “I better be prepared.”

“Oh no, I’m not messing with you. I’m picking an easier target next time.”

“I’ll find you anyway,” he says. “Can’t hide from me, sweetheart.”

“Hmm,” you say, hiding your face because that squishy feeling in your chest is back. “I still won this round.”

He lifts your face so he can look at you. Your eyes close when he swoops in and kisses you. You can’t even pretend to be annoyed with him anymore. Vexatious vixen, indeed.

“I think,” he says, “we might have tied this round, sweetheart.”

“Fine,” you say. You kiss again, long and sweet. Then you bop him on the nose. “But next time it’ll be me.”

He sighs but smiles, shaking his head. Then he cups your face and pulls you in for another kiss.

#lee felix x reader #felix x reader #lee felix smut #felix smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #lee felix x you #skz x you #stray kids x you

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ninthskzmember · 3 months

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Sharing is caring. Part II

Lee Know x reader. (Pt 1)

warnings: straight up smut. pet names. wc: 1,3k. an: hey! Just wanted to let you know that this is my first time writing smut in english. If you've got any suggestion, i'm open! Thank you for all the likes, reblogs and love this is getting!

Requests are open :)

"Who was in your imagination when you came up with that question?" You were holding his head while he sucked and left marks on your neck.

Those, for sure, will last at least a few days on you, and there's just something about you getting marked that Minho just loves. You're his, and he can do whatever he wants with you, even lending you to one of his mates just for his own pleasure.

In his imagination, it was for sure Chan who he wanted to share you with. What a better gift to his stressed, overworked, and single leader than you being all fucked up for both him and his only hyung.

And of course, he has seen the way Chan sometimes looks at the marks on your neck, and his eyes get dark for a split second before composing himself and starting to act normal again.

"I prefer you to choose, love," he said while making his kisses a road up to your chin and then your mouth.

A kiss that was wet from the start made you feel the same way.

In your head, you were really working through it. Jeongin? You feel like that's just wrong. Seungmin? You feel in your guts that he'd make a fucking mess out of you. Felix? Just like the maknae, you wouldn't want to take away the angelical aura they make you feel. Jisung? Yes, he's a reasonable option for this. Hyunjin?…

Lee Know took you out of your thoughts when he pulled away and slipped his hand on your pants, feeling just how much the thoughts you were having were having an effect on you.

He was still close to your face, and you could feel his minty breath on top of your lips.

"Oh," he said with a cheeky smile on his face, "you're really into it." His eyes locked on yours. "Who's got you all wet for me, baby?" He said this before biting your lip.

"No one in particular," you said with a breathy voice while feeling his digits play with your clitoral area.

"Why do you lie to me, kitten?" He asked while introducing one of his fingers to your core. "Were you thinking about Changbin getting his big dick into you?" His whisper on top of your ear sent shivers all over your body, making you clench around his only finger inside of you.

The thing is, you didn't even make it to the thought of Changbin, and you didn't know if you loved or hated your imagination.

"You'd like that, right, baby?"

Your only answer was multiple nods and a needy look.

"Use your words," he said, stopping his movement.

"Yes," you replied instantly, winning a satisfied smile from your man.

"Come here," he slipped out of you and guided you both to the couch where you were originally reading.

He took a seat first, the man spreading his posture, and with that look of his, you knew what he wanted.

"Come here," he ordered, and you obeyed. Your legs one to each side of his hips, his strong grip on top of yours. He made you sit directly into his already hard dick, winning a discrete little moan from your lips.

"Babe, I want you," you said with no shame at all, wanting to move over all his length.

"Work for me," he smiled, and that's just what you started doing—grinding over your boyfriend over and over, leaving a wet line on his pants where you were having fun.

Both of you were a moaning mess, and you almost forgot where all of this started. You were drunk on the taste of Minho's lips, neck, skin, and cock.

"Is Changbin your final answer, kitten?" His question brought you over to the real world again.

"No." Your answer came out of your mouth faster than you thought, and you didn't even know if Changbin was your final answer or not until you said it.

"Alright," he said, smiling and pulling you in to kiss you desperately again. You couldn't even form a thought from the stimulation you were getting.

Lee Know took your shirt off, throwing it somewhere in the living room, followed by your bra. He wasted no time and started playing with your nipples, one on his mouth and the other with his right hand.

You were getting high-pitched, so he knew you were close. His left hand traveled to your hips and wrapped his arm around them, making you feel his dick tighter. He started helping with the movements too, making you almost reach the stars.

Until he remembered.

He stopped you abruptly, and you whined.

"I wanna cummmm," the sentence came out of your lips like a cry, matching your watery eyes.

"Oh, you will, but after we decide," he said cheekily, and he laid you on your back.

He locked his lips on yours again and took the reins.

"I'll take whoever you want, babe." You got your legs around his body, pulling him closer, trying to feel his hard stick rubbing against your core again.

But Minho is not the kind of person who just gives in. No, he will make you work. Work for your orgasm, and work for who you'll choose to fuck you dumb.

With one of his hands, he reached down and felt how you even stained your jeans. He laughed and took a look over his own pants, realizing you did the same to him.

"Needy little fucker," he said, smiling at you.

It took little to no time for him to make you both naked; now you are both desperate.

He aligned himself with you, getting just the tip in.

"Hyunjin," he said out of nowhere, making you confused. "Alright," he said, moving a little bit deeper.

"Felix," he said this time, and now you kind of understand what he was doing. He wanted to see how your body reacted to each of his friends. There was no movement for Felix or Jeongin either. So now he was 4/7 inside you.

"Jisung." Even you could feel the little twitch from your walls around him at the sound of Han's name. "Nice," he said, and he went a little deeper again.

"Changbin"—your hips betrayed you, moving up and down to Changbin. "Oh, so we're into 3racha," he smiled down at you, biting his lower lip.

"Minho, please, I need you," you whined again. "I need you to fuck me dumb right now. I need you to make a mess out of me right now."

"Choose." He said this when he went all the way inside you without stopping. He started pounding you hard, making you a moaning mess. "Kitten," he said, pulling your hair lightly.

"Kim Seungmin. I want Kim Seungmin. Please, Minho, please." You made your decision drunk on your boyfriend's dick, and you were glad you did. "Oh, baby, you feel so good; please don't stop, don't stop."

"Didn't you think you couldn't handle him, you little slut?" His smile couldn't be erased, sweat falling from his forehead. "You like being a slut; you like being a mess."

You nodded at his words, clenching with each one of them. You were close, and so was he.

"You like the thought of Seungmin getting his dick into you, don't you?" You didn't even pay attention to what he was saying at this point; you just wanted to cum.

"Just imagine Bang Chan Hyung fucking you as deeply as I am doing right now," he whispered in your ear, and that was it.

Not only did you hit your orgasm, but you also squirted the hell out of you.

A surprised Lee Know came out of you with shock in his eyes while you were still going through your high.

Your man was not dumb; he knew what it was. He was just surprised because it was the first time you were able to do it.

"Oh my god," you said, still twitching a bit.

"So, BangChan?" He smirked down at you.

"Definitely Chris." you answered, biting your own lower lip.

"We've got our final answer. Now come here and give me some head; I want to cum too," he said, carving your cheek, and you did not think twice before getting on your knees.

Part 3

#skz #skz imagines #stray kids #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #minho x you #minho x y/n #minho imagines #lee know imagines #lee know #lee minho #bang chan #2min #kim seungmin

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wonfilms · 1 year

Text

STRAY KIDS WHEN YOU ACCIDENTALLY CALL THEM YOUR HUSBAND

pairings : bf! skz x reader

genre : fluff !!! so much fluff.

word count : 3.6k

bangchan would stop in his tracks. the word rolls off your tongue, oh so, naturally but it has his stomach doing little flips. he liked how it sounded... no. he LOVED how it sounded when you said it. “husband” , it was such a simple mistake and yet it had his heart hammering against his chest. though you turned wide eyed and started apologising, there’s a part of him that wanted to hear you say it over and over again.

lee know smirks, he watches the way your expression turns into one of embarrassment. “ hmm, am i your husband then?” he teases, as you bury your face in your hands. he thinks you’re so cute... he prys your hands from covering your face before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. he tries not to show how much of an effect it had on him but the way his cheeks blush pink gave him away. he really likes the idea of that. the idea of being your husband one day.

hyunjin’s face turns hot at your words... husband? he thinks he’s never loved you more than he did at that moment. he’d be lying if he said he’d not thought about it before. the idea of putting a ring on your finger, calling you his forever and experiencing a fairytale - kind of happy ending with you was something of a fantasy that he indulged in when he felt low, but hearing the words come out of your own mouth made butterflies flutter through his abdomen.

changbin think’s he might combust, a wide smile dawned upon his face. though it was an accident, changbin can’t help the way his head swam when he heard you referring to him as your husband. he knows you’re someone he wants to be with forever, he knew that from the start. if he’s zoning out right now, it’s probably because he’s thinking of all the ways he could ask you to marry him. his heart swells with affection for you, he thinks he’d like to make your words a reality.

han feels the heat rise to his cheeks, he’s thankful he’s got a mask that’s covering what your innocent mistake has done to him. “husband.” the two syllables escaped your lips so quickly that he might have missed it if he wasn’t listening to you closely. he reaches to grab your hand and give it a little squeeze, you turn and smile at him. he thinks you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. though you don’t realise your slip up, he’s thankful that he did.

felix can’t help the way his gaze softens when you frantically apologise for your slip up . “hey, i’m not complaining..” he chuckles feeling the heat rise to his cheeks as you bury your face in your hands further. he doesn’t think it’s normal to love someone as much as he loves you, there’s no doubt that sometime in the future he does want to make your words a reality, the idea of it already had his head spinning.

seungmin simply laughs, “hmm? husband?” he teases. you apologise quickly attempting to move on from your slip up but he lifts your head up with a finger to look at him.. he almost feels bad when he sees the embarrassment on your face, but he’d be lying if he’d said he’s not thought of marriage either. he prays that you don’t notice the way his ear have started burning pink , he doesn’t know whether it’s from the fact your face is mere inches away from his or from the idea of being yours for the rest of his life.

jeongin almost chokes on his drink, he inhales sharply trying to control the way his heart races in his ribcage. he tries to shrug it off as you don’t seem to have noticed the small mistake, but his head repeats the word rolling off of your tongue over and over again... it makes him almost dizzy. “husband...” , you said it so nonchalantly but he knows he’s not going to be able to get your voice out of his head, but he’s not complaining.

a/n : my first ot8 post yeahhhh! i loved this request sm! thank you @govllin for giving me this prompt, i hope this is what you were looking for!

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manicpixiefelix · 4 months

Note

Felix is definitely whiny and a big baby whenever he's sick so Reader is taking care of him and making him homemade soup.

(where do i keep finding these?? also warnings for Felix and Reader being cute and domestic while Felix has a cold, if that icks you)

"I'm going to make you sick," Felix mumbled as he gingerly held the bowl of soup you'd brought him in both hands. He had otherwise cocooned himself in every single blanket both he and you owned, so now you were sitting directly next to him, despite the awful cold that had befallen him. Your own bowl of soup cooling on his nightstand, you'd chosen instead to keep reading your book while letting it cool down.

"I'm going to make you sick," you mock in a high pitched tone without even looking up from your book, much to Felix's dismay.

"Hey!" But it doesn't sound quite right with his stuffy nose, "you're being mean to me, you're not allowed to be mean to me, I'm sick."

"Felix, I've caught every cold, flu, and stomach bug you've had since we started secondary school together," you look up, giving him an exasperated smile as you reminded him of your shared history in the matter, "and vice versa." Considering for a moment, Felix sulks defeatedly, blowing with only mild effectiveness, on his soup. After a moment, you go back to your reading.

"Did I give you mono in sixth form?"

"Farleigh gave me mono and I gave it to you," you corrected idly, to which Felix only had a noise of discomfort as his answer. "For the record, I never mind if you make me sick," voice going quiet and genuine for a moment, you feel Felix shift beside you, resting his head on your shoulder, "I'm just glad you let me take care of you, it's worth it to get a little sick, and I know you always take care of me when you're better."

"'course I do," Felix sniffles a little, and you automatically pause your reading. Putting your book down, you reach over to grab him a tissue, taking his bowl of soup in the trade so he didn't spill it as he blew his nose. Struggling to lean over you for a moment, he tosses the tissue in the bin by the bed before taking back the soup with thanks, "and I will," he only sounds marginally better for the moment, "promise I'll bring you so much soup." Despite his state, his voice is warm and fond, and for a moment, you lean in and steal a quick kiss from him with a grin.

"I'm so gross right now, and I'm going to get you so sick!" He protests, but the flush on his cheeks isn't all the illness's fault. Picking up your book, you shrug with a casual, teasing smile.

"I was gonna get sick anyways."

#saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #head heart hand fic #it shouts back #manicpixieart

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yumeka-sxf · 5 days

Text

Thoughts on Spy x Family: Family Portrait

I finally got around to reading the SxF light novel, Family Portrait...and I mean "finally" because it's literally been sitting in my shelf since it was first released in English back in December of last year! I was distracted by Code White and the SxF video game which came out around the same time, but even long after that, I was having trouble getting motivated to read it. For some reason, experiencing SxF in novel format instead of in anime/manga just didn't appeal to me, plus the fact that it's not written by Endo himself (these weird preferences of mine are also why I'm not into reading fanfics either). Don't get me wrong, in general I love reading stories in prose form too, but for a series like SxF that already has such an established visual identity, it doesn't feel as "authentic" to me if that makes any sense. But I did want to read it eventually, since it is an official part of SxF media and Endo did the illustrations and does acknowledge the book (he wrote a nice afterword at the end). So I finally sat down and read it in sections over the course of this week! I'll share my brief thoughts on each of the contained stories:

Novel Mission 1

Since this was the first story in the book, it took me a while to get used to experiencing the world of SxF in novel form. There were some things I felt would have been better conveyed in anime/manga, for example, one of the very first gags about Yor misinterpreting Anya's nature class as some sort of hardcore outdoor survival trip. As I was reading that part I was like "I get the joke, but it would have been funnier if I actually saw these images and the characters' expressions with Endo's comedic illustrations." It was also a bit jarring to hear the characters thoughts and feelings from third-person narration, but I got used to it. As for the story itself, it was Damianya focused, something I'm not particularly into, but I don't mind it either. I liked the rare, soft Damian moments, and the thing with the squirrel eating Anya's peanut trail was funny. I also liked the scene at the beginning where Loid and Yor feed Bond together while Anya watches.

Novel Mission 2

Oddly, this was my favorite of the stories! Of all the characters, I think the author nailed Yuri's unhinged thoughts the best - as I was reading, I couldn't help but hear every cringe thought in his voice, which is a good sign of how well the author gets the character! I actually chuckled at a few parts too, both from his insane Yor-obsessed and anti-Loid musings, as well as from his banter with Anya. The police interrogation scene was great and would be even better if it ever gets animated! I also found it interesting that this story has the first instance where we find out what Yuri thinks about Bond (that he's fat and useless - rude!) Also his first time hearing about Franky apparently...makes we wonder if Endo will make him feel the same way if these things ever come up in the manga.

Novel Mission 3

I liked this story a lot too! I think it worked the best in novel format out of all of them, probably because it was more focused on drama and emotions than comedy. It's ironic that the two official SxF stories that feature the deeper side of Franky's character - this one and the omake chapter from volume 13 - are both not even part of the main canon! Alessa would have definitely accepted Franky's job as an informant, but he felt that someone like her should only be surrounded by "beautiful things." The poor man really needs to see that inner beauty matters too, and he has that! I also think he should have swallowed his pride and told Loid the real reason why he wanted the disguise...not that it would have changed the outcome. Poor Franky.

Novel Mission 4

This was a cute Forger-focused story, but like the first one, I felt it had parts that would have been more effective in anime/manga form, for example, "hair monster" Yor and whatever hideous painting Felix ended up making! But despite that, it was still funny and cute. Though I do think the author went a tad overboard with Yor's flustered antics...they just kept going and going, lol. Also, like the movie, we have another scenario of Loid getting flung into the air by Yor but landing gracefully on his feet (though this instance was much tamer since she wasn't drunk and only pushed him instead of hit him). Again, maybe I would have appreciated the humor in this story better if I saw it in anime/manga with Endo's hilarious designs and expressions, but for what it was, it was enjoyable enough.

Short Novel

This extra short story would be perfect as a reintroduction story for a future anime season...maybe one day!

-----

Overall, the Family Portrait novel is a nice addition to the Spy x Family universe. Even though I feel the humor in the series is most effective in illustrated form, it's still nice to have more stories in the canon, especially ones that show new sides to the characters, like the Franky and Yuri stories. Like the movie, it's debatable if this novel should be considered true canon or not, but personally, I don't find anything in it that contradicts canon, at least not yet. So yeah, definitely check out the novel if you haven't already! 😁

#spy x family #sxf #spy family #spyxfamily #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #bond forger #damian desmond #yuri briar #franky franklin #sxf family portrait #sxf novel

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kkami-writes · 7 months

Text

waiting for us — chapter thirty seven. laser tag cw. derogatory language/slurs. wc 701 + 4 ss a/n. I do want to be clear that I am part of the lgbt+ community and have been called these things which of course isn't like? an excuse to say that like I can say it? though I think people should be able to reclaim their slurs but. ANYWAY the point is, I have censored it but if it makes people uncomfy, I can fully censor!!

After Felix had stopped pouting he had showered you in compliments, genuinely impressed at how you were able to get the plushy in two tries. He pretends to bow down to you.

“All hail the claw queen!!!!” You snort at his silliness before trying to pull him up, hoping no one was watching the two of you.

“Oh my god, stop it!! Lix!”

“What?? I’m just giving my respects to my new queen,” Your eyes roll playfully, nudging him softly.

“So, what should we name our son?” You question as you point to the duckling plushy he was holding. Honestly? It reminded you of the pretty boy.

Felix on the other hand was absolutely melting on the inside. The fact that you had called the plush “our” son. Why were you so adorable? He could feel himself falling more in love with you, every second he spent with you.

He clears his throat. “What about bbokari?”

“As in…yongbokkie?” A sly grin tugs at your lips.

Felix groans. “Who told you??!”

A giggle falls from your lips. “Minho let it slip,”

“Minho??? I expected Jisung or Hyunjin at least. They have big mouths. In more ways than one” Pink dusts your cheeks as you push the boy who only laughs at your shyness.

“Bbokari is cute though. I love it,” Felix just gives you that breathtaking smile.

“Oh!” Felix exclaims, pointing over towards the back of the arcade. “Look, they have laser tag. You down for a round?”

“It’s been forever since I’ve played. I’m down,” You nod, the two of you starting to make your way over there.

“Shall we make a wager?” You squint at Felix.

“What kind of wager?”

“Loser buys ice cream?”

“Oh you are SO on,”

And that’s how you find yourself in the dark arena, neon lights lining the floor as your only source of light. You were slightly directionally challenged so the maze like turns has made you very lost but you were still on guard, making sure to stay far away from Felix. It was just the two of you, trying to hunt each other down, taking your bet very seriously.

You’re hidden behind a wall, peaking your head out to see if you can catch a glimpse of his now raven hair. When the coast is clear you take a step to move to a new location, but a hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you back, pushing you up against the wall. Even though you were only a few inches shorter than the boy, you had felt so small under his gaze. Felilx has his hand slightly above your head, effectively caging you in.

He smirks down at you and you hate how attractive he looks under the neon lights.

“Well, well, well. Seems I’ve caught myself a pretty girl,” He hums, hand coming down to twirl a strand of your hair around his fingers. Felix’s grin becomes more cocky, canines peaking past his lips. “Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you right now,”

“Because I’m cute?”

“Hmm, that is a good answer…but is it good enough?” He pretends to think about it, but you take the chance while he’s momentarily distracted. You lean up to press your lips to his and Felix completely freezes, eyes comically wide. Before he can even consider kissing you back you’re tilting your gun, that’s been in your other hand, up so you can shoot him. His vest vibrates to signal that he’s been hit.

“Bye, bye~” You singsong before ducking under his arm and running away. This finally seems to pull him out of his stupor as he yells out after you.

“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaait!! At least let me kiss you back!” Felix wails, chasing after you.

In the end Felix still wins but refuses to let you pay for ice cream and doesn’t give you a chance to argue.

The poor boy has been pouting the whole time about not being able to kiss you until you had let him actually kiss you. And perhaps that lead to the two of you making out in the backseat of his car.

But, you’d never kiss and tell. (But Felix certainly did).

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imrllytootiredforthis · 7 months

Note

HIII

Could you please make a sub felix and femdom reader kinda similar to the club one (I hope Ik which one I mean😭) but with the members reaction at the end?

Like for example if y/n and felix fucked in his dorm but the others members heard it all??🤭🤭 and write like their reactions and stuff?💙

Please🫣

Needy Baby

pairing: felix x reader

summary: he doesn't know how you do it, doesn't know how you've managed to have such an effect on him but it makes him wanna do horrible, horrible things. or better yet, let you do horrible, horrible things.

warnings: sub felix, dom reader, gn reader, fingering (felix recieving), dacryphilia (heavy in this), exhibitionism (again, heavy), wanting to be caught, lowk an orgy at the end (kind of?), masturbating (of various kinds), minsung, kinda implied seungmin and i.n., possibly more

word count: 3.2k

a/n: i'd like to preface this by saying that i'm actually so sorry about how long this took to come out-it got buried in my inbox and i only saw it when i decided to go through them all, but anyway, it's here now so i hope you enjoy!

this also isn't proofread but hopefully will be soon enough when i find the energy to do so :p

“Tell me what you want, Lixie,” he shivers, with your breath fanning over his skin, your words in his ear.

He can hardly stand it.

Hardly stay sane.

Especially since your barely alone, on the cusp of being right out in the fucking open.

“Please…” he whines again, for what feels like the tenth time in a row, over and over again, wishing for more, wishing for everything you could give him.

His friends are right outside the room. The door is cracked open and the walls paper-thin.

He's sure they can hear him. Sure that they know what's going on in here, know that their bandmate is getting his brain fucked out by his girlfriend in the next room over.

"Please,"

And he doesn't care.

They can come watch for all he cares, the thought makes him feel even hotter; the idea of them watching you ruin him, make him cry and beg and plead.

Call him pathetic and needy, a little slut who likes to get off while his friends all watch.

And he can't help but notice that the sound of the TV, that was so obviously on before has gone silent.

"Come on, tell me one more time. Just one more. I need to make sure that I really know what you want."

Touch him, claim him, devour him. Bite him, mark him, make him cry out your name until his voice is a rasp and his throat aches.

He's too far gone to care, too far gone to want anything else than the hand that's just barely ghosting over his dick.

"Do anything, anything at all~, I need you, I need it, I ne-"

You pinch his nipple, rolling it between your thumb and forefinger, licking down the side of his neck along the freckles with intent; his mouth all but falls open in a silent scream.

He can't do this, god he can't do this.

He'll go insane. He'll lose his mind.

With the warm wet feeling of your tongue gliding along his neck, nibbling on his collarbone, sucking a mark there before moving to the next patch of skin that'll be laid victim to your lust.

With the position you're in, your back against the headboard, his against your chest.

Your legs are hooked over his, pulling them apart.

His body, completely bare as your hand leaves teasing brushes all over his inner thighs and cock; the other one's having its own fun in giving him shockwaves of pleasure by tugging on his sensitive buds, relishing in the noises he makes in reply, in the way he shoves his chest toward your hand whenever you teasingly pull away

"Needy baby," you croon into his ear and he melts into your skin, into your warmth, into the solid form of your body curled around him. "Be specific," your teeth nip at his earlobe, "tell me exactly what you want."

It's like every little thing you do sets him off so easily, every touch an electric shock of sensitivity that has him gasping and reeling for a breath to calm his dizzying head.

It ruins him all the more when he remembers the door, the crack and the way you've seemed to position him, presented completely bare and open to anyone who would happen to walk in.

"Tell me."

Shit, he could cry from the way you're talking to him. He could probably cum from that alone.

"U-um,"

His hiccupy gasps bounce around the room, much too loud for anyone outside to not hear anything.

"I-I want,"

Your hand? Your mouth? Your thigh? He doesn't know, he doesn't know, he wants it all, wants everything you can give him, he can take all of it. He will take all of it, if it means you'll finally just fucking touch him.

Your fingers leave his chest, running over his collarbone and neck and jaw to lift his chin, forcing his neck sideways so that he can look back at you.

He waits expectantly, for you to do anything, for a kiss or a tease or another reminder to speak up.

"Lixie," Your tone is sharp but also soft; demanding but also suggesting; forcing but coaxing. He doesn't know how you do it, doesn't know how it has such an effect on him but it makes him wanna do horrible, horrible things. Or better yet, let you do horrible, horrible things. "You wanna hear what I want?"

He feels his head nodding, sees your smile growing, watches the desire simmer in your eyes.

Knuckles drag along his cheek with nothing but overdone faux gentleness, like he's glass and you don't want to break him.

Like you're not about to ruin him.

The calm before the storm he supposed.

Before you finally tell him what you want, "I want to make you cry." Suddenly your hand is caressing his throat. "I want to make you beg," it loosely wraps around, your thumb brushing over his pulse point. "And I want to make you plead." You can feel his heart race under your fingertips. "I want your eyes all glassy and wide, trembling as I make you go completely dumb."

"I-" His voice is shaky, panted out with that crinkle between his eyebrows that tells you he's paying more attention to the hand wrapped around his throat that he wants to admit. "W-why?" He doesn't really care for the answer. He's turned on enough knowing that you want him like that. That you want this just as much if not more than him even. He'd rather shut up and let you hurry along but he can tell you want him to play into your theatrics. You want him to play pretend.

"I can't help myself." He gasps when your other hand grabs onto his hips, blunt nails digging into his skin, leaving crescent marks in their wake as you flip him over and press him into the mattress. "When you look helpless and needy like that, just like you are now," He doesn't know how he looks now, he doesn't know if he wants to know but if the sight makes your eyes darken with lust like it does, well then hell he'll do anything to recreate it.

"I want you to depend on me. I want you to need me."

His hair fans around his head like a halo, just like the pretty little angel he is. "You're just so pretty and you look so sad, I just wanna comfort you and hold you, keep you all to myself."

Your hand squeezes ever so slightly around his neck, restricting his breathing ever so slightly that his mouth falls open with laboured pants-partially played up just for the sake of your pupils dilating. Your jaw clenches, eyes sweeping hungrily along his trembling lips before you're leaning in, nose brushing along the line of his jaw, warm breath against his skin that makes him sigh in bliss, fingers twitching with a want to touch you.

You beat him to it though. “Can I touch you, angel? Please, pretty pretty please?” Your breathing is heavy, raspy

He doesn't know why you're asking, why when you already know the answer.

He's your's. Your's to play with and touch and tease and torture to your hearts content. If you want him to squirm-he'll squirm. If you want him to beg-he'll beg. If you want him to cry...you know it all too well that he'll cry, just for you.

"Pretty, pretty please angel? Let me feel you, make you feel so, so good." Your voice is soft like silk, honeyed and candied to hide the venom sinking into his skin, infecting him until every part of his body feels like it's on fire. "I'll find that spot that makes your back arch and your eyes roll back, you want that?"

If you want him to play into your little game, he'll gladly play it. Swallowing heavily, throat bobbing against your grip. “Y-yes, please.”

So you do. You finally, finally do more than a brush of your hand.

You let go of his throat and a high needy whine escapes his lips, silenced nearly immediately by your fingers pressing against his taint, toying around his rim, "you want me here?"

He gasps, sharp and quick and the noise sounds all too loud against the silence in the room-and what if the others heard him-and what if they're sitting on the other side of the door now, watching him, wising they coul-

"Baby?" Your fingers pinch his thigh, ripping a moan from his lungs.

"Yes! Yes please!"

You smile, soothing over the spot. "Aww, such a good boy, with such good manners." Reaching over him to the nightstand, you pull out a bottle of lube before cracking it open and pouring some over your fingers.

You warm it up before you touch him, well, because you're not that mean-not yet anyway.

His gasp rings through the room when you press a finger into him. A high moan escaping his open lips, out the door and to the main area of the dorms where the rest of the boys are but you pay that no mind, dragging your fingers against his clenching walls, feeling around for that spot that'll make him gasp.

You don't care if they hear. Don't care if they watch. You know he doesn't mind either, if that desperate look in his eye has anything to say, emotions glinting as he glances at the door then back at you-hopeful and then disappointed.

As if every time he looks over he hopes that he'll see one of them, staring back at him.

And if the way the others have gotten suspiciously quiet outside, you don't think that'll take very long.

"Want the others to walk in Lix? Want them to come in and watch?" He moans wantonly, legs spreading open to invite your touch further. His body shudders with pleasure at the mere thought of the others watching him, their eyes envious. Not knowing if they'd rather be Felix, getting ruined and pulled apart by you; or you, inflicting it all. "Want them to touch?"

You press a second finger into him, quickening the speed, lips brushing against his skin as he nods, quick and desperate as the muscles of his legs clench and unclench, nearly spasming against your hips.

"I-i want them so bad! I-i-" his mouth is dry. His head is foggy with the idea. With your touch. With the door a crack fucking open, inviting the other inhabitants of the dorm inside. "I-i!"

And then your hand is on his throat again.

His voice cracks, breaking off into a sob as you find his prostate, fingertips grazing the spot, teasing before adding a third finger and thrusting right against it.

Hard, fast, going at a pace that he can’t nearly wrap his head around as much as let out noises akin strangled animal; grasping at your shoulders, pawing down at your wrist, pleading for you to go faster and faster and faster.

Reaching up to his throat. His gaze meeting yours in a clash of pleasure and desperation and want and need before pulling at your hand and lacing your fingers with his.

Your gaze softens, your heart melts and he blinks. Once, twice and then he can’t help but give you exactly what you want.

His eyes first grow glossy, eyelashes fluttering as if to try to hold them back. It's a futile battle. You both know that he gets so sensitive so quickly and can't hold it back. But like he said...you like a show.

You breath.

He sniffles.

Tears like liquidized crystal prick at his eyes, one, then two, then more following down the ridges and slopes of his pretty face, creating tracks of tear stains as your heart races in your chest.

His quiet cries fill the room and it drives something inside you crazy, feral, heat filling every crevice of your body.

Something inside of you sings to see him like this, and you don't even realize you've moved at all until he's letting out a watery gasp and your hand is squeezing his harder, pressing it into the sheets and your pace gets faster, and you hit his prostate head on with deadly precision each time, abusing it over and over with your fingertips and-and-

and you're leaning in and licking up his tears, the salt clinging to your tastebuds as he sobs and squirms, unable to keep still with the way that you touch him so maddeningly.

Your tongue is hot, wet, dizzying as it drags across his skin, the sensation paired with the soft press of your lips as you kiss over his freckles too and the brutal insistence of your fingers.

You lave love and affection and utter adoration with every movement and it only makes the tears come faster, makes his lighter, fuzzier.

You add a third finger and he feels everything inside of him shatter.

"-Stop! You can't, I'm-I-I'll"

"-You'll what?" You coo, and you pout like you feel bad for him, like this isn't driving you insane with lust. Like this isn't making you want to fuck his brains out even more. "You'll cum? Put on a pretty show for all your friends?"

He nods helplessly with a small whimper, head much too surrendered into the blissful haze of something far beyond him. Lube drips lewdly down your fingers and onto the sheets as you slow your pace, dragging frustrated huffs from his pretty, perfect lips.

"Words baby,"

He doesn't reply, only whines.

And you can only watch on with hungry eyes as he clumsily attempts to fuck himself to make up for the lost stimulation.

He's unused to it as many times as you've done this, used to sitting back and letting you do the work, it pulls breathless gasps from him at the new experience, at how much exertion it takes to make his hips roll and buck and his ass greedily sucks your fingers deep inside of him.

The noises pouring from his mouth are obscene and fervid, high and ringing loudly off the walls. "Yes-" he breathes, mewling "fuck, yes. Want to-...want them, want..."

He trails off and you can only continue off the barely there thought but you know him much too well to not know where he was going. "Want them rubbing their dicks to you? Your pathetic little moans and whines-gonna cum for me and cum for them too?"

His chest falls up and down, up and down. His nails dig into the flesh of your hand and with no other warnings his mouth his falling open, back bowing up into an arch as he shoots ropes of cum all over his stomach and chest.

"Fuck~"

---

It had been Han to lower down the volume on the TV when he first heard something.

A moan.

Desperate and ruined.

It was Seungmin to glare at him, eyebrows furrowing at his blatant pervertedness.

It had been Minho to raise a brow at him, snatching the remote from Han to hold it out as an offering to him-a challenge.

The words silent but a scream all it once in his eyes.

'You want to turn it down? Do it yourself.'

Seungmin stared at it as another moan came from the door-it wasn't even fucking closed the whole way.

"Fucking pervs," he'd muttered but if he'd really felt that way he would've taken the remote.

Minho looked around at the others and the others looked at him.

And he slowly set the remote down on the coffee table, open to anyone who had the willpower to turn the volume back up.

It was, surprisingly, Jeongin who grabbed the remote and turned it off completely.

And as of now the living room is dead silent as the entirety of the dorms goes quiet as well, Felix's moans ceasing to halt.

Hyunjin is the first to speak, shifting in place from where he sits on the couch, his face is red to pair with the white-knuckled grip he has on a pillow as he presses it over his lap. "We all heard that right? I'm not just hearing things?"

He only recieves blank stares in return, as if his mind could conjure such things up.

As if it isn't obvious the way that he subtly grinds up against the pillow on his lap but no one comments. Not any of the rest of them fare much better.

Han sits on Minho's lap. Desperately dryhumping against him with his face tucked into Minho's neck as his hand grips into his hair.

It's clear that he's trying to be quiet as possible despite Han's teeth dragging over his throat and quick sharp thrusts he delivers. But the quiet ragged gasps have slowly risen in volume since Hyunjin's spoken and their little show in the other room has ended. Compared to his counterpart, he sounds composed though, Han lets out ruined whines between gasps, getting higher and needier with ever second that passes by.

The two had never been shy of PDA among their friends but this was much further than the sensual but short kisses or the teasing smack on the ass.

No one was complaining though.

Changbin shamelessly palms himself over his pants. He lets his eyes slip shut as he slowly lets his hands unbutton his tight jeans, sighing when his hand dips under the waistband of his boxers.

He can feel the eyes of the others on him, feel the particular hunger for him to pull down his boxers so he can stroke himself out in the open but he doesn't. He'll leave a little something to the imagination as he groans loudly, letting his head fall back onto the cushions of the couch, the muscles in his arms flexing as he throbs.

Seungmin and Jeongin sit next to each other on the opposite couch, a shared blanket over them from earlier. Before all of this.

They glance at each other once, twice before they're silently moving, quietly leaving the room together without so much as looking at any of the others.

The sound of a door clicking shut at the end of the hall is the only thing heard.

And Chan, their leader, only stares in the direction of Felix's door, trying to ignore the raging boner he doesn't even bother to hide.

His hair still slightly wet from an earlier shower now rests in untamed curls, hanging over his forehead as he turns away from the others, hiding a raging blush on his cheeks.

Should they have left? Put earbuds in or turned the volume on the TV loud to drown out the noise of their friend?

Perhaps.

But did they?

No.

No they did not.

And did any of them regret it?

...

a/n: ngl this was kinda hard to write for the part with the other's reactions but i'm hoping that it's okay😭

lmk what you thought and my taglist is here if you wanna be added: @hobihearteu, @missrobyn81, @laylasbunbunny, @xcookiemonsteer, @hahagay, @maru-matt, @d7dream, @amidstnamjin-and-binchanlix, @gwithoutv, @abcdefgiwsmcty, hoping i got everyone rn i'm probably gonna make a more organized vers of my taglist soon

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