Poor Thing Ugh Someone Ride The Man - Tumblr Posts

perv!bestfriend felix who always insists every guy you’re with isn’t good enough for you. somehow they always end up scared off.

perv!bestfriend felix, who slips into bed with you at night, and squeezes your hands while smelling your hair. totally normal! friends do those things all the time. friends totally keep thousands of pictures of you in their phone, right?

friends shower together ofc, even when you whine and protest that you guys are too old for it now. the clinginess can get annoying, but not as annoying as undergarments constantly disappearing. ‘didn’t i just buy those?’ 🐼

felix, who holds you against the bed while straddling, blowing raspberries into your neck. somehow it always turns into sucking. (star im feral) (please) (please. omffahaj)

for my 🐼 anon who’s so cute when she gets jealous and she puts up with my disloyalty every second of the day but she has nothing to worry about bc she’s literally my one and only ily baby

Warning: suggestive! mdni.

Felix is so relentless in his ways, sitting with such purpose atop your bed as you scramble to pack for your trip. The luggage rests propped open at the foot of the bed, piled high with neatly folded clothes and bags of cosmetics. And Felix doesn’t preoccupy himself with any form of activity- he simply watches you, analyzing your every movement like he’s studying you.

“I don’t know how the weather’s going to be over there,” you remark, pulling your phone out your back pocket to conduct a quick google search.

And Felix swallows nervously, his eyes scanning over your nimble fingers as you type.

“High 60’s,” he says casually. “But you normally run warmer, so I wouldn’t pack too much.”

“Really?” You retort, tossing your phone on the bed as you think over his answer. “I was going to pack a couple long-sleeved t-shirts.”

“Do that black one,” Felix chimes in from where he’s sitting. “With the cutout at the front. That one always looks really pretty on you.”

Your eyes shift momentarily to his seated figure, pondering the shirt he speaks of.

Or the sports bra, rather, the small strip of fabric serving as a go-to to earn yourself free drinks at the club. Just a few inches in length, riding up the sides when you so much as lift your arms, the circle cutout in the front providing a generous view of your cleavage.

“Ew, no,” you retort. “That one’s not fit for a vacation.”

“Yeah it is,” Felix says with a light chuckle. “Besides, you’re going to the beach, it’s not like you won’t be showing skin.”

“I dunno,” you reply, refolding a shirt on the top of the stack. “I might just do a big t-shirt and some shorts.”

“What?” Felix says a little too passionately. “It’s the beach. You have to get tanned, and show off when you can. Wear that little black bikini you took swimming the other day.”

“That one is for the privacy of my own pool, not a public beach, Felix.”

He shrugs lightly, thinking back to the sight of you wading in the still water of the swimming pool alongside him, your breasts practically falling out of the little string top and complementing an erotic view of your lower half swallowing the little fabric bottoms.

“What else are you packing?” Felix inquires, sitting up to peer inside your suitcase.

“Couple shorts, a few tank tops and maybe a dress for when we hit the club.”

“The red one?” Felix says quickly. “Good call, that one looks really good on you. I mean, not to make it weird or anything. But last time we went out, it was like half the bar was staring at you. I don’t blame them.”

You furrow your eyebrows together, a small chuckle escaping your lips as he nods eagerly.

“Yeah, the red one,” you reaffirm. “I think we’ll only hit the bars the first night we’re there.”

“Take lots of pictures,” Felix says, folding his arms behind his head leisurely. “I want to see all the outfits you wear.”

And you know the drill very well already, Felix often pressing you to send quick mirror snaps of your short dresses, beach attire or gym outfits. He plays it off as an interest in your fashion, but you know he’s just interested in the way your curves hug every inch of the clothing, leaving little to the imagination as you flaunt your assets, with Felix’s curiosity piqued every time.

Felix is naive enough to think you genuinely don't know his calculated schemes. But you don’t miss the way he shoves a pillow against the tent in his crotch when you’re in a short skirt, or how he purposely grazes his hips against yours when you bend over. He’s embarrassingly obsessed with you, your figure, your body, your skin, the sweet smell of your perfume when you pass him by. Thoughts of you plague his mind at all hours of the day, on your knees for him, your mouth taking his cock to the hilt and the erotic view of your breasts pushed up against his lanky figure hovering over yours.

“I don’t know,” you voice with a sigh, occupying the spot beside Felix as you throw yourself onto the white duvet. “I feel like I’m second-guessing everything I’m packing.”

“Don’t,” Felix emphasizes, rolling over to climb over you. “It’s all good stuff, you’ll look amazing.”

And you’re giggling beneath him as his lips suddenly find your neck, taking your flesh between his teeth to suck a bruise on the column of your neck.

“Felix, stop!” You say between laughter, not doing much to push him away, either.

“I’m gonna give you a hickey here and then you can show it off in your little dress.”

“Felix!”

He resumes his sucking motions, lips latching around your neck to form a dark purple bruise, giggling against your skin when he feels you gasp beneath him.

To anyone else, the sight would be provocative, your best friend’s lips all over your skin and your hands pinned at your sides, with every intention to cover you in marks. But oddly enough it’s a normal occurrence between the two of you, Felix getting riled up at the sensation of climbing over you and completely flustering you. It’s the same sensation he’ll later jerk himself off to, imagining he was inside of you the whole time, fucking you like a boyfriend would.

And it’s a phenomenon you’ve gotten used to at this point, Felix’s perverted tendencies making themself known early on in your friendship and never fully dissipating. Always under the guise of “friends”, always defending it with his platonic relationship to you, that these are completely normal occurrences that friends always do. And though you know it to be untrue, you don’t stop him, admittedly amused at the way Felix is so obsessed with you. He’s easy to read, and he does a terrible job at covering his tracks. It’s a little pathetic, really, but it’s amusing, nonetheless. Perhaps one day you’ll give him a hand or indulge him in a quick fuck and watch him go absolutely insane.

“That’s good,” Felix says, as he pulls away to examine his work. The bruise is a robust shade of purple, placed inconveniently for everybody to see for the entirety of your trip.

“Felix,” you groan, sitting up to examine it in the mirror across from you. “This thing is huge.”

“You love it,” he says with a smile, pulling back to crawl off of you.

“In your dreams,” you retort, slinging your legs over the side of the bed. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

“I’ll come,” Felix says, standing up and pulling off his t-shirt.

“Felix, we talked about this-”

“Please,” he begs with an exaggerated pout. “It’s so hot and I’m so sweaty.”

You sigh frustratedly, gesturing to the bathroom and rolling your eyes in annoyance. “Go start the shower,” you say to him. “I need to grab a change of clothes.”

And he grins mischievously, taking purposeful strides into the bathroom as you shake your head.

You pull a change of clothes from your drawer- a t-shirt, a new pair of shorts. Panties- which seem to be your last pair. Except you did laundry just two days ago, and you should have several pairs still, even when accounting for the ones you’ve already packed.

You fish around the drawers desperately, searching high and low- and they’re missing. Which means you’ll require a trip to the mall before your vacation this week.

And Felix watches in amusement through the crack in the door, smirking at the knowledge that half of your panties are stowed away in the drawer of his nightstand. Ones he runs his fingers along and imagines ripping them off of you, ones that aid him in stroking his cock to pictures of you at night. Outfit snaps, gym photos.

It’s filthy, and he knows it. But under his devious guise of “just friends”, anything goes.

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(no tags while I edit the taglist, sorry ☹️🫶)