#lee felix x you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jilixthinker · 2 months

Text

slowly to me

=͟͟͞♡ virgin!felix × noona!fem reader

=͟͟͞♡ bestfriends/roommates to lovers

word count: 7.4K

content warning: explicit sexual content, sub!felix, soft dom!noona reader, felix is a virgin, corruption kink if you squint, mutual masturbation, clit play, fingering, cock play, dirty talk, unprotected sex (as usual), creampie, they are clueless idiots in love.

a/c: i wanted to write this for the longest time and now i am kinda nervous sharing it because it feels more personal (?) and intimate than usual. hope you will enjoy it ♡

=͟͟͞♡ please, consider reblogging if you like my works!

[00:17 AM] fefe 🧚‍♀️

noona 💙

are you awake?

please tell me you are

I can't find my keys 😪

i know it's late

don't hate me

You blink your eyes open a few times. The sound of your phone buzzing on your nightstand is insistent over the chattering noise coming from your laptop. You must have fallen asleep more than 30 minutes ago, considering that you are not familiar with the episode of the anime you are currently watching. Your fingers brush against the cover of your phone and you finally grab it with a sleepy grunt. When you unlock it, not without typing the wrong code twice, you notice that your chat with Felix is already open, a few notifications popping on the screen.

[00:18 AM] fefe 🧚‍♀️

noona 😪😪

[00:18 AM] you

where are you now

[00:18 AM] fefe 🧚‍♀️

outside 😪

noona, my savior

my only light in the darkness 💙

You force yourself to sit on the bed as you yawn. When you read the last text, you chuckle despite of how sleepy you feel. It's a little bit late to be coming back home, even for Felix, but you don't mind. Felix usually stays awake till dawn, always prone to chat and watch tv series together whenever you cannot sleep. You help each other in your own ways, yours being the responsible counterpart in your household.

You find your slippers with your feet and you finally stand up, heading outside of your room and to the corridor. It's pretty warm already this time of year, and you don't even bother putting on something over your light pajamas. It's just Felix anyway, he did see you at your worst so many times that you cannot even remember.

When you open the door, Felix is fighting with the zipper of his denim jacket. He is dressed casually, almost as if he didn't put any effort on what he was going to wear. A pink hoodie is picking out from his black slacks, and his hair is styled in a messy bun, a few locks escaping from the hair tie and covering his eyes.

"Noona, I owe you." he huffs, offering you a toothy smile as soon as you let him in.

"Don't mention it. I don't even have plans for tomorrow morning, I can just sleep in." you yawn in response, plopping on the couch and closing your eyes again.

Felix hums and throws his jacket on the nearest chair of your shared living room before letting himself fall next to you, face immediately finding its favorite place into the crook of your neck.

"How was your date?" you ask him, circling his shoulders with your arm and letting him scooch closer to you.

You feel his cold nose nuzzling against your collarbones and you chuckle, bringing your hand to the top of his head and starting to untie the loose bun. Felix puffs and you can hear his lips curving into a small pout.

"As always." he mumbles. "He was cute. Funny. He paid for my order."

You nod, and your fingers find their way up to his scalp, scratching it lightly and pulling a soft grunt out of his lips. "But..." you add, waiting for the inevitable epilogue.

"But..." he shifts from his position to lay down with his face on your lap. "- I felt nothing. He was very handsome, and smart. He was nice. I could tell he would make a great boyfriend. But I just looked at him and... I couldn't see myself kissing him, or touching him. It felt like looking at a nice painting, you know? I don’t know what is wrong with me."

"Nothing is wrong with you, Lix." you murmur in the dark. Your thumb moves from his soft locks and start circling the plump skin of his cheek. Felix huffs again and rubs his nose against your lower stomach. He does it often, and it makes him look like a small kitten looking for some comfort. Your heart always sinks at that.

"I am serious." you continue. "Feelings cannot be controlled. It's not your fault if you didn't feel attracted to him. Maybe he just wasn't the one."

Felix looks at you from his position, his big pleading eyes are a little tired.

"And who will be the one, noona? I am 23 and I didn't find a single person yet. I didn't even... you know." Felix lets out a sarcastic chuckle. "Can you tell how hard is it to reach this age without experimenting with anyone? I feel left out."

"Does it bother you so much? Being a virgin?" you ask him. Felix and you are used to talk a lot about everything without any sort of embarassment, but he only mentioned the topic of his inexperience a few times in your many years of friendship.

You didn't believe him at first. Felix was... Felix. The most precious human being on earth, smart and kind, generous and funny, witty and reliable. Your bestfriend, your proclaimed soulmate, and the prettiest person you've ever seen. Him being a virgin sounded like a joke to you. He confessed it when he was 18 at the time, and he was a little tipsy after a few bottles of beers you two had shared after moving into your new apartment. You could tell it was an uncomfortable topic for him, and you never asked him again. You just told him that he was young, and that the situation would change quickly in the following months.

But years passed, five to be exact. And Felix didn't have sex with anyone. He finished college, started working and met people, he started dating even, but as soon as the people he was seeing asked him for something more, he shut everything down and disappeared from their lives.

"It does bother me, yes." he answers quietly. "Because I am not afraid of intimacy itself. I just... don't feel the right attraction. I want to, but I can't. All these pretty boys I met, and the furthest I've gone is kissing. I don't know what to do, noona."

Felix shudders and you pull him closer to you. His voice is almost a whisper and his breathing is getting a little heavy. Your fingers go back to stroke through his hair gently, as you try to calm him down.

"Have you considered dating girls?" you ask him. "You told me you felt more comfortable with them."

Felix's arms circle your waist as he hugs you tight. He looks at you intently with a shy smile. He looks so tiny all curled up like this.

"I do love girls. More than boys actually. I thought about that a lot." He murmurs as he pulls you so close that your stomach is pressed completely against his cheek. "But I feel shy around them. I cannot help but thinking that I would mess everything up. With boys... it would be easier. I know how a male body works. But I have no clue on how to, uh —"

You chuckle at his words and you lean forward to pinch at his nose, amused by his reaction. "How to touch them?" you smile at him.

Felix laughs and lets out a breathless sigh. He pulls away slightly, though keeping his eyes locked on you. You can see a light blush appearing on the apples of his cheeks.

"Uhm, yes. That." His voice is still playful, but you can hear the nervousness in his breath as well. "You know I have never kissed a girl before. Just boys. Uh–, I know nothing, noona." he exhales.

You scrunch your nose and you let yourself relax against the sofa behind you. Felix's arms are still linked tightly around your waist. "There is nothing to be ashamed of, Lix," you breathe out. "Human nature will do its thing. When you'll find yourself in that situation, your body will know what to do."

"I'm not so sure." he murmurs, starting to rub his nose against your hipbone, sniffing at the fabric like he always does when he is feeling a little overwhelmed.

Your hand finds its way toward the back of his neck and you apply a slight pressure on the skin there. Felix lets out a shaky breath.

"You will see. With the right person, you won't feel uncomfortable at all. It's normal to don't know stuff, you know. We've all been there. And each body, each person, is different. You can figure things out along the way, by asking and learning." You try to reassure him. "It's not a performance. You should just focus on feeling good and let the other person feel good too. I promise it's not so complicated as you think."

Felix hums quietly and a mellow silence falls around you. The room is still dark, it should be around 1 a.m. now, but a beam of moonlight shines through the window, reflecting small glimpses of silver upon Felix's hair.

Felix feels small and soft on your lap. He is still hugging you, and you know him enough to sense that he is restraining himself somehow. You can feel the distress in the way his tiny hands are fisting the cotton of your pajamas around your waist.

"Lixie, sweetheart..." you murmur, voice little higher than a sigh. Felix holds tighter on you, as if he is scared of you running away. As if you could.

The fact is that you love Felix. You always did, in a way. You cannot tell exactly when you fell in love with him, but it happened sometime between your last year of highschool and your freshman year of college. You remember Felix grabbing your hand when you graduated in summer, sweat under your dress from being exposed to the hot sun, waiting for your speech. You remember him intertwining your fingers and smiling at you with devoted eyes when he helped you moving in your new dormitory. You remember him wetting your shoulder with warm tears because you were going to be separated from each other for the first time. And, oh. At a certain point you just knew.

You never talked about that, of course. You didn't think you needed to. Things between you were perfect already, and you were happy you've managed to slip neatly into your routine. Felix needs you in a way nobody else can comprehend. And you need him too, in a slight different way. And it's okay, you've always been good at managing your own feelings.

"Noona..." he answers timidly.

"What are you thinking about? I can hear the sound of your brain working no stop." you shrug, looking at him. The moonlight looks the ideal light to admire him, you find yourself admitting.

Felix looks over at you, his lips upturned with a reluctant smile. "It's just... I don't think I will ever find this person." he sighs softly.

"Why so? I cannot imagine anyone who wouldn't want to be with you. You are perfect." you say, eyes jumping down to Felix's delicate frame. His button nose covered in freckles scrunches a bit over the line of his plump lips. They look moist. They must be soft.

From his gaze, you can see that your words are the last thing Felix was expecting to hear from you. "Because–" he stutters while the pressure of his hands on you becomes almost too much, "–there is already... ugh, nevermind."

The silence that follows his semi-confession is heavy on you. You freeze at the admission, and you can tell from his eyes that he didn't mean to let that slip. That's it – you think – there is someone. Someone who Felix cares about, maybe that he even loves, and that is keeping him from living his life freely. Someone who apparently doesn’t reciprocate his feelings, given that Felix is trying to see other people and complaining about them with you.

Fuck, that hurts. You could have seen it coming, but it still hurts.

You open your mouth to formulate any sort of coherent words of encouragement that you can master, but Felix decides to move from his position at the same time you shift on the sofa to look at him. The impact of your bodies gives gravity a push, and you both go down with a loud humph, landing on the couch with your limbs all entangled. Felix groans as his back collides with the leather, and you open your eyes to check up on him, only to stop as soon as you realize how close you are to each other.

His lean and warm body is all pressed up against the cushions, and suddenly any trace of stoicism has fled the situation. You don't even remember what you were going to say, to be honest. All you are conscious of is Felix's body and the way his eyes are looking at you, making you flush with an unknown tenderness. You take a deep breath and the realization that you can feel his parted thighs caging your hips and his arms pawing at your shirt hits you hard. And maybe it's the late hour, maybe it's because you've spent the last hour talking your hearts out – and the last years repressing your feelings –, or maybe it's because Felix looks so vulnerable like this.

Whatever it is, instead of laughing everything off and move from this awkward position, you keep looking at him as some strands of hair fall onto his forehead and his breathing gets a little quicker. You find yourself thinking that maybe this is the most beautiful Felix has ever looked.

"Noona." he murmurs, and you can feel how the air shifts around you. His make-up is a little bit smudged around his eyes, you notice, and you lift your hand to rub at the corner of his eyelid with your finger. Felix trembles lightly as you touch him, and desire tugs at you, pushing you towards a path that you know is not wise.

"Noona–" he breathes out again, this time not much louder than a whisper. "I want to try something."

"Felix," you say unsteadily as Felix's hand grabs at your pajamas a little more firmly. "This isn't a good idea."

"Why so?" he asks, voice all tiny, shifting closer to you anyway. Everytime you try to look away from his lips it's like your eyes have been glued in place. "You said that with the right person it wouldn't feel uncomfortable. I– you.. I don't feel uncomfortable with you."

You sigh at his words. You are sure there is almost a thousand reasons why you shouldn't be doing this. First of all, Felix doesn’t love you. Not the way you do, at least. And he is hurting now, he is sad. He is not in the conditions of taking such a decision. But you can hardly manage a coherent thought right now, with him being this close to you.

He doesn't like you back, you cannot do this.

"Felix, I am honored that you trust me this much. I really am." you manage, but your voice sounds faint. "But this is not the right thing to do now. You don't want it to happen this way."

At that, Felix pauses and looks at you. He bites his lip, as if he was looking for the right words, and his eyes looks different, almost watery. "Don't you..." he stutters, "am I not good enough?"

You blink in confusion and a thick layer of guilt fills your stomach to the brim. You hate seeing Felix in distress, you cannot stand the way his timid smile leaves his face. You would give him the moon if that would make him happy.

"Oh no, Felix, sweetheart," you confess, bringing your hand to cup his cheek. The freckled skin feels soft and warm under your fingers. "this is not what I meant. I just– fuck," you swear in protest. "I just don't think I am the right choice. You deserve the right person for this."

Felix’s gaze fractures and he suddenly lets out the tiniest sigh, a pleading look framing his delicate traits. He turns his face to the left, leaning on your touch and he rubs his nose on the palm of your hand.

"Noona, you are not the right person. You are my person." He shyly admits, voice muffled on your skin. "But I can understand if you don't want this. If you don't want me the way I do. I am sorry for bringing this out, I should have kept that for myself."

You freeze, guilt becoming dread and pooling on your stomach. Oblivious to any of this, Felix gives you a small, sad smile and continues, "I tried to ignore it, believe me, I did. I kept myself from feeling this much because I knew it wasn't the same for you. But I can't help it, noona. I started seeing other people in the hope that it would eventually fade away. But it didn't. And now I am making a fool out of myself." Felix looks over at you and his smile is not the one you are used to see on his face. "Sorry for ruining everything," he sighs, "I just love you."

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

You feel a fist of air being pushed out of your lungs like a truck. Felix's eyes are big and sweet, and a single tear escapes from his lashes to roll down the apple of his cheek. You fucked up. You fucked up so bad. You misunderstood everything. Guilt nestles in your chest like a stone, scraping at your heart.

"Felix," you say, your voice sounding foreign and groggy, "Felix. You love me? You love me?"

Felix's eyes jump down to your lips just for a second, and then back at you. He sniffs as he brings his free hand to his face, rubbing the tear away. "I do." he admits. "I really do."

The truth in his tone has you let out an inaudible gasp. Then, in the span of a second, just the time of a blink, everything changes.

"Say it again." You whisper as your eyes lock into Felix's. And then Felix opens his mouth, just barely, and his muttered words stay still on the tip of his tongue.

"Say it." You repeat as your thumb shifts, stroking slowly along his jaw and down to his chin. "Wanna hear it again."

Felix blinks, and he looks like he can't come up with something to say at all. "Noona, what are you, uh–" he gasps when your fingers catch his bottom lip, pinching it a little to enjoy its softness.

"Lix, sweetheart..." you whisper, letting your face fall slowly down to his neck. The insides of your tighs press against the outside of Felix's as to trap him there. "You want me, uh? You love me?" you tease him, your hand coming up to steady him by the chin, keeping him still while your mouth finally founds the tender skin of his neck and you place a single peck under his earlobe. "I wanna hear you saying it."

A weak whimper makes itself known at the bottom of Felix's throat when you angle your head to the side and leave a humid trail of kisses all along the column of his neck. "Noona, I... why are you – ah – why are you doing t-this?" he mutters with a sigh.

You grin against his skin at the sound of his affected voice, and you nose at his chin blowing another tiny peck there. "Just say it." You repeat.

Felix's eyes are semiclosed now, but his pupils are wide and dark, and your grip on his jaw tightens a bit. Just another wet kiss on his Adam's apple is sufficient to convince him to give you what you're asking for. "I want you." He grumbles as his legs start to tremble under your weight. "I love you." He breathes.

And that's it. Felix doesn’t have the time to even realize what is going on before you are pressing down with purpose, your lips firm against his and your hands buried in his hair as he lets out a tiny sob. His mouth is cherry red and sweet, and your lips slid against it, applying just the right amount of pressure to have him melting against the couch. The kiss feels almost electric, and the low groan Felix exhales bubbles up into the back of your throat.

Felix is soft, and his body becomes malleable and pliant beneath your touch as soon as he clings onto you with fervent hands, a little desperate to keep hold of how good he is feeling. He moans beautifully every time your lips detach from his to catch some breath, and his fingers find your face too, curling against your cheeks and keeping you close to him.

As soon as your tongue licks languidly at his bottom lip, his mouth opens up to let the warm muscle slip into his mouth with a low grunt. You can feel that Felix is not experienced in the way he is unable to do anything but tremble with pleasure in the bracket of your arms as your lips glide against his, slick and wet. He lets out another whimper when your tongue licks at the roof of his mouth and your head feels dizzy and heavy with desire.

You cannot remember the last time you felt this good and this right, to be honest. Felix’s confession is still lingering in your brain as your hips press against his in a swift movement, coaxing a soft moan out of the boy under you. You smile in the kiss, feeling as if everything in the universe is finally in its designed place and, at the same time, all condensed in the way the two of you are wrapped up in each other so tightly that you can’t keep track of where one of you starts and ends.

Reluctanly, you force yourself to separate from Felix's tender mouth just a few millimiters. "Lix, baby," you whisper lovingly on his lips. "You have no idea how long I wanted to do this."

"Y-you wanted this?" he pants, parting his legs more and allowing you to slot your body inbetween of them. His breath is sticky and hot and you feel yourself getting restless on top of him.

"Sweetheart. You have no idea how much I love you. How much I want you." You confess.

"But... but you've never–" he stutters under your gaze. "Oh God, don't tell me we've been this stupid!"

You chuckle and nod slowly. "Apparently, yes, we have been." You smile, and your chest is so full of fondness and love that it's hard to breathe. "And we wasted a lot of time. But at least we're here now."

Felix nods timidly and you lean in again, this time just kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin under his chin. You move closer to Felix's ear and then back towards his jaw. He starts to breathe harder, hands clutching the shirt of your pajamas, and his thumb brushes against the hardened nub of your nipple, making you hiss quietly.

Felix moans when you start licking at his lips again.

"Good?" you ask, smiling against his skin.

Felix nods. "Yeah. Y-you can keep going."

You comply, because you could never deny anything to him. You softly suck his upper lip between your teeth and let it go with a loud pop. Then you move to his neck again, and you bite him carefully a few times until Felix starts to squirm beneath you. The thought that you are the first person, the first woman, doing this to him has heat rushing to your face and you wonders if Felix wants to do more, or if he wants to keep things over the clothes. You are okay waiting. You've waited for years.

"Can I… can I ask you something?" he stutters when your hands find his hips and you start caressing them in tiny circles.

"Of course, Lix. You can ask me anything." you reassure him, rising your head from the crook of his neck and looking at him fondly.

"You know what we were talking about before," he breathes shyly, eyes big and teary. "I wasn't able to do anything with all the people I dated because... they were not you," he admits. "and – uh, I don't know how to say this. It's embarassing."

Felix sighs as he tries to hide his face behind his hands, but you stop him by grabbing his wrists.

"Do you want to try? Now?" you ask calmly, ignoring the burning lava that is flooding into your veins at the thought of having Felix like that, just for you.

Felix nods again, all soft and timid. "I wanna try. With you." He mutters as his hips buck involuntarily against yours for the first time. And that's when you notice that Felix is hard under you, cock stirring to life when you grind down into him as a response to his movement. "B-but I don't know anything, noona. You have to show me."

You hover your face over Felix's for a moment, searching something into his eyes before diving in again for a kiss. Felix hums languidly against you and you pull his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it before letting it go slowly, teeth dragging. Felix groans deep in his chest and you can feel the vibrations go straight to your pussy. Then the realization that you are finally doing it hits you.

You. And Felix.

I need to stay focused, you think when you start feeling your head becoming too clouded with desire. Felix feels so tender and warm against you, and it's difficult to concentrate when your arousal begins to pool in your panties, just a few layers of fabric separating your core from Felix's poor neglected cock. The kisses get sloppier but Felix doesn’t seem to mind, and you quickly find a rhythm between the movements of your lips and the gentle rocking of your body against his.

"What do you want to do, sweetheart? You can tell me." You hum as your mouth latches again onto the spot between Felix's neck and shoulder, sucking and then soothing the skin with your tongue.

"Ah, fuck…" Felix curses when your hand finally trails down his chest and lightly grazes his cock from over his pants. He feels sensitive and overwhelmed in the best way possible, and he feels like he is losing his mind already. "W-want to touch you, noona, please. Please, I've been wanting to touch you forever."

A tiny moan escapes from your parted lips at Felix's confession and you are pretty sure that your panties are now ruined for good. You can feel the hot stickiness gluing them to your entrance.

"Okay, baby." You sigh, shifting your weight in order to lift your hips a little from Felix's body. "You can touch me. I'll show you how. Is that what you want?"

Felix pants and his fists close again on your shirt as if he's trying to steady himself. "Y-yes please. Show me." He answers, and he looks completely blissed out, hair as a messy crown around his beautiful face.

"Okay." You concede, gathering all of your weight on your right arm to pull down both your pajamas shorts and underwear with just one quick motion, air finally hitting pungently the heath of your pussy.

Felix gulps and you see his Adam's apple bobbing deliciously as he stares at the way a sticky string of slick is connecting your entrance to the cotton of your panties. You feel your core pulsing at the sight and you let the garnments fall on the ground, climbing back to Felix's body and straddling his lap.

Felix looks up to you, but his eyes keep flicking back between your face and the mound of your pussy, and you try to thrust gently against the hard fabric of his jeans, just over his hardened erection. When you rock your hips tentatively on his bulge, your clit gets caught on the cold metal of his belt, making you hiss. Your pussy throbs, releasing a gush of arousal over where Felix's cockhead should be.

"Lixie, baby." You breathe out. "Noona needs your hand for this."

Felix cheeks are as red as cherries and he hiccups at your request, nodding twice and pliantly offering you his right hand. He places it just near your thigh, not daring to get any closer to your heath without any given permission.

You smile softly at him and you wrap your thumb and index around his wrist, bringing his palm to the front of your pussy and letting it brush against the hood of your clit for just a second. "I guess you watched porn before, uh, baby?" you ask him grinding gently on his hand. "I think you know a bit about female anatomy already."

Felix sighs and a wanton moan rises from his throat when he feels your engorged clit bumping against his skin. "Y-yes, I have." He blushes.

You laugh breathily at his shyness and you let his hand slide past your front to eventually press on your labia, guiding his slim fingers to spread the wetness gushing from your hole.

"Usually I prefer to be stimulated here," you say, nudging the pad of his thumb against your sensitive bud. "In little circles." and you move your hand in tandem with him, circling your clit and trembling a little from his insecure touch. Another spurt of arousal drips from your pussy and coaxes Felix's fingers, making him moan.

"But now I want it inside." Your voice is sickengly sweet, and Felix looks like he is one step away from hyperventilating. His teeth dig on his bottom lip and he sighs in pleasure.

"Please," he whines. "Please, let me."

You roll your hips so that the tips of his fingers catch your entrance, and suddenly you sink down in just one motion. His middle and ring finger meet you halfway, and he watches your face in adoration as the two digits push into you. You let out a small whimper when his palm finds your mound again, and you finally sit on him fully.

"Ah – noona. G-god." He keens as he feels his fingers being wrapped up with your warmth.

You lift up from him, desperate for some friction, your hand still grabbing his wrist to guide him and help him. "Baby, fuck, finally." You grunt as your hips swing forward and back to create a sort of rhythm. "Wanted you like this for the longest time, you have no idea."

Felix mewls as he hears the squelching sound of his hand against your throbbing cunt. The schlick schlick is filthy and loud, and his head starts spinning. "Noona, you are so soft, so warm. Fuck, why are you so wet?" He cries, eyes big and round and locked at the way your pussy is engulfing a part of himself.

The drag of his fingers makes your head floaty and you grind further down onto his knuckles, the stretch making you want more and more.

"That's how it's supposed to be with a woman, sweetheart. We are programmed to take." You chuckle breathily as you slowly but steadily fuck yourself onto Felix's fingers. "But you are too, right? My sweet boy. You are just taking what I am giving to you, isn't it?"

Felix moans and his pads involuntarily curl upwards, brushing against your gummy spot as his head falls back, deep groans tumbling out of his parted lips. "Ah – too wet noona, too wet. I wanna, w-wanna..."

"What? What do you want, baby? Tell me, I wanna hear." You sound rightfully out of breath while you fuck mercilessly Felix's digits and you flood his hand with your juices. You shift forward to kiss him on the mouth and his palm finds your clit again, sending jolts of pleasure through your spine.

"Wanna... w-wanna be with you. Please, noona, I've waited. I need – oh, God – I need you fully. I l-love you so much, I always wanted it to be with you." He sighs against your mouth before you can slot your lips together and lace your tongue on his, sucking the wet muscle slowly until Felix is reduced as a squirming mess under you.

"Oh my sweet boy, my angel," you praise him as you try to slow down your movements. If you keep going with this pace you will cum too soon, and you want to finish together with Felix for your first time.

Felix follows your mouth and with his free hand he timidly brushes your left breast, staring at the way it bounces with every thrust of your hips on his hand. It looks mesmerized by the way your body moves and gets wet over him, preparing itself to welcome him inside even if he doesn't properly know what to do.

With a low grunt, you force yourself to stop your thrusts and you peck Felix on his tumid, soft lips. His hand falls uselessly on his hip while you balance your body on his waist to finally get rid of your last piece of clothing, throwing the filmsy shirt of your pajamas away.

Felix looks at your naked body as he if he was admiring a painting and, despite of your confidence, you find yourself blushing a little under his devoted gaze. You dreamt about this moment so much, pondering that it would never come, and now it feels almost surreal to have Felix all for you as you always wanted.

"I love you, Felix." You whisper lovingly, a tear stuck on the corner of your eye. "I love you so much."

And Felix beams. His eyes, watery with pleasure, lit up and bring a smile to his beautiful face, the face that you wished you could caress and claim as yours for so many years. "I am yours, noona. Please, make me yours." He murmurs softly.

You kiss him again, and it's hungrier this time, even more than the kisses you already shared. And then the kissing melts into licking, and then into biting, until Felix's hand finds your waist and then falls to cup your ass.

"I need you out of these clothes in 10 seconds." You mutter with a breathy sound, and Felix is fervent to obey, quickly getting rid of his pants and underwear and throwing his pink hoodie away, far from you.

When you crawl back into his lap, Felix is sitting on the couch. You find your place on his legs, straddling him until you are face to face and you can hear the sweet sound of his erratic breathing against your ear.

"I want to do it like this." You breathe out, gently nipping at his lips and then placing a small kiss at the corner of his mouth. "Wanna see you."

Felix sighs and his aching cock, now finally free from the constriction of his pants, throbs against your lower belly, spurting a gush of precum which dribbles into your navel. "I can't believe this is really happening." He hiccups, pleasure making his head feel dizzy.

You smile fondly. "Me neither." And you bring your hand down, resting your hot palm over his shaft and giving pressure until you are dragging the skin of his cock up and down. Felix melts with a breathy mewl.

Felix has a perfect cock, you think, and then you say it out loud. "You have a perfect cock, baby."

Felix gasps and he throws his head back, hitting the cushion of the couch. You can see that his face is flushed with arousal and embarassment, and that makes you feel lightheaded.

"So perfect," you continue, playing with your fingers and bringing your thumb to the engorged tip, smearing the thick droplets of precum all along his aching muscle until you graze his balls. "Perfect size, perfect girth, perfect color. You know how pretty your cock is, baby? Not too long, but chubby. I love it."

"Noona," Felix sighs painfully, thighs parting under your weight to give you more space. He looks fucked up, and you barely touched him.

"I want to play with it forever," you say, picking up your pace and jerking him fully. "And I will do it. I will touch this sweet cock all day long, making it cum so many times, making it feel so so so good."

"Please, please, please." Felix keens and throbs again on your hand, now hard as a rock and trying to stay as still as he can.

"It looks so tasty, too. Wanna slurp it in one bite." You whisper as you swirl your index on the slit of his cockhead and Felix lets out the sweetest groan you could imagine. It's so easy to pleasure him, and he responds to you so well.

"But not now," you reassure him. "Now I need you inside of me. Need you as deep as you can. Need you to be mine."

Felix forces his eyes open and his hands grip into the underside of your thighs, bringing you closer to him. You cross your arms behind his neck, slotting your lips together once again because you just can't get enough of Felix's breathy moans as you bring him to the edge with you.

"Noona, I don't, ah– I don't have a condom." He urges to tell you when you circle your hips against him and his tip catches the entrance of your pussy.

"We don't need a condom. I am on the pill, and I am clean." You pull away to mouth at Felix's neck, and you suck at the column until you are gliding your mouth over his Adam's apple. "And you are too, obviously. Don't worry about that, sweetheart. I need to feel you all hard and raw inside of me."

You kiss Felix again, breaths coming out in restless wisps, hips frantic. "Can you take it?" you ask against his lips, your right hand gripping Felix's wet cock. Felix nods, gulping loudly. With your arm reached behind you and your head dipped forward, you slap the tip against your cunt, eyes never leaving his face.

Felix swallows, and you can feel his heart racing as you nudge his cockhead against your heath, pussy clenching and unclenching for pleasure. You look at him in the eyes for one last time, and then you sink.

When Felix's tip breeches, you whimper at the stretch with you head lolled to the side. You push your hips down, taking Felix's chubby cock slowly until you’re seated on it. And, with his cock fully inside, Felix groans and tears finally spill from his eyes, wetting his cheeks and rolling down to his chin.

"Ah– oh, God, please! P-ple eh e-ease." He cries as he grips your hips so tight that he is gonna leave marks.

"Easy, baby. Easy." You pant, eyes rolling on your skull at the way the head of his cock presses perfectly on your spongy spot. Felix's tongue lolls out from his mouth, and you take the tip between your lips, suckling lightly on it before lifting your hips up and then slamming back again.

"It's too tight, too tight, too w-wet," Felix sobs, a dribble of saliva forming a tiny bubble at the top of his upper lip. You lower your head to look at the way you are taking Felix to the brim, his swollen balls resting on the curve of your ass, and you let out a lewd sound at the view.

But it's not enough, because this is Felix's first time, and you just know from the way he is trembling that he is not gonna last long, the poor angel he is. You played with him a bit too long considering his inexperience, and now you can feel him twitching inside of you, bringing you close as well with just a few pumps.

"I know, baby, I know. You feel so fucking good too. You fill me so well, look." And you take one of the hands that are gripping your hips, making it slide against your pussy to let him feel the point were you two are connected.

Felix grasps the base of his cock with his wrist and he tries to push it even deeper inside of your wet heath with a loud groan. "It's so, s-so good." He repeats mindlessly.

You gather all of your strength, gripping into Felix's shoulders in front of you and letting you knees carry your weight as you finally begin to ride his cock. You raise your ass up just to feel the tip catch at your rim only to force back down, fast and hard.

"Noona, ah– noona!" Felix grunts out, "F-fuck, I can't, I c-can't!"

At a particularly deep thrust, Felix cries out again, a slew of filthy words and many slurred versions of your name coming out of his red, juicy lips.

"Baby, Felix, baby." You moan, letting yourself fall against his chest and beginning to move your hips in circles. You feel his cock hitting deliciously at your cervix and your clit rubbing on Felix's hip bone.

"I lo-oh-ove you." Unable to help it, Felix begins to thrust up quickly, grinding his cock inside of you and smashing his warm cheek against your shoulder, as you involuntarily squeeze your walls around his shaft.

You are trying to make this last a little bit more, but a tight coil of pleasure starts to form in your lower belly, and Felix's heavy and raspy whines tell you that he is in your same conditions. "Feels so good, sweetheart. So thick and hot, you are making me cum, ah– so quick." You blabber, head feeling floaty. "Are you close too? Tell me you are close. Wanna come with you."

Felix hiccups and his thrusts become messy and erratic, cock leaking inside of you as you clench around him. "Close, close, s-so close." He picks you up by your thighs to throw you onto his cock as if you were weightless. "Can I, ah a-ahhh, w-where can I–?" he sobs out with every thrust.

"Inside, Lix, my love. Cum inside," you praise him. "So good to me. So good." And you whine as Felix fucks desperately into you, a thick layer of sweat on his freckled skin.

Two more pushes are what it takes to have your pussy clenching hard and tight around Felix, and as your clit rubs one last time against his pubic bone, your eyes roll backwards and you cum with a filthy long moan, flooding Felix's cock with your juices.

As the orgasm hits you, you smash your lips against Felix's and suffocate your whines on his mouth. As soon as Felix feels you pulsing around his drooly cock, you see him going cross-eyed. Then, he pushes almost violently into your heath and comes with one final, deep smash of his cock, filling you up.

Voice hoarse with pleasure and a little out of breath, Felix moans softly, face finding its comforting place in the crook of your neck. "I love you." he whispers.

You both stay silent for a couple of minutes, and you loll your head to the side to huff warm breaths that tickle Felix's temples.

"How do you feel?" You asks, bringing your fingers to slowly pet Felix's damp hair. You tongue feels heavy inside your mouth, and your legs muscles sting. But you are happy.

"I feel like I waited for this moment for my entire life." Felix's words are slow and shy, despite of what just happened between the two of you. You can feel him chuckling against your shoulder. "I still have to process what is going on."

"We have time." You murmur, kissing his forehead and hugging him lovingly, keeping him safe in your arms. "Now we have all the time in the world."

Felix smiles. The room is not dark anymore.

©️ jilixthinker, 2024. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

1K notes · View notes

frenchkisstheabyss · 9 months

Text

♡ SKZ Members Who'd Love Sleeping On Your Belly ♡

♡ All of the love to @skz-story-request-always-open for asking me to do this adorably fluffy request ♡

While I'm sure any of our OT8 cuties would love cuddling up to a soft belly, these are the four who I think would be in absolute heaven if you let them do it.

♡ Felix ♡

You let him fall asleep on your belly once and he's refused to do anything else since. At this point, if you even joke about not letting him do it you'll break his heart

Seriously, you can offer him the fluffiest of pillows and he won't touch them because nothing's more comfy than dozing off on you with his favorite song or show in the background

It's never unexpected when he lays on you because he tends to come running at you full force with his arms open and his face lit up, making cute little noises that let you know it's time for cuddles

As much as he enjoys your softness, what really makes it special to him is the closeness and vulnerability he feels when he's curled up against you with your arm around his neck, fingers playing with his hair as sleep takes him

♡ Bang Chan ♡

His reputation as someone who rarely sleeps is unshakable at this point, insomnia's basically a part of his lore, but he's out like a light the second his cheek meets your belly

Something that always gets him is when you come up beside him while he's working and stroke his cheek, letting him lean his head on you. As someone who's responsible for taking care of so many people, it's nice when it's his turn to be cared for

He can, will, and has fallen asleep in the sitting position because you're so comfy, and having you in his presence is incredibly peaceful for him, quieting the thoughts swirling around in his mind

Nothing's cuter than the look on his face when you wake him up enough to make it to the bed or couch where he can truly settle in, interlocking his body with yours so that you can't go anywhere

♡ Binnie ♡

This man's obsession with sleeping on your belly is the precise reason why you wake up with random body aches some days

He doesn't care where you are, what you're doing, or what time of day it is. If he feels himself nodding off, he has to find a way to get you into any position necessary for him to get to it

Clearly, he's not particular about if you guys are bent sideways to make it happen but he does have preferences when it comes to what you wear. His favorite thing to see you in is a t-shirt because it means his hands get easier access to squishing your belly

There's nothing remotely sexual about his habit of slipping his hand under your shirt to play with your belly. It's relaxing for him. It also helps that you giggle when he does it a certain way. He could never get tired of that

♡ Han ♡

He never gets a better night's rest than when he's using your belly as a pillow but going to sleep's rarely, if ever, what he had in mind when he first laid down

It's a good thing though because, with all of the energy he has, he can start to feel burnt out at times and he always knows he can come to you as a safe space to restore his energy since you don't really want anything from him other than, well, him

Even though it's technically your stomach he goes feral if anyone tries to peel him away from you. You're his baby and he's gonna cling to you for dear life for as long as he can

His belly might not be as soft as yours but he constantly insists that you lay on him too so that he can hold you and sing you to sleep, watching over you to make sure you sleep as peacefully as he does

#stray kids x reader #stray kids headcanons #stray kids x you #changbin x you #changbin x reader #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #stray kids fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #lee felix x reader #lee felix x you #lee felix fluff #bang chan fluff #han jisung fluff #changbin fluff

4K notes · View notes

saturnnelahy · 4 months

Text

𝑩𝒇!𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒚 𝑲𝒊𝒅𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒐𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖

𝑶𝒕8 𝒙 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒘 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔

𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚𝒆𝒅 💜

𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆

1K notes · View notes

skzdarlings · 2 months

Text

i do ; skz ; felix x reader

requested by anonymous: ' I would love if you could use these prompts...on Felix x fem reader:❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜❛ you're mine. you've always been mine. ❜I love possessive Felix, istg i would give amything to have him' plus two anonymous requests for: 'i'd say you need someone to put you in your place' for felix.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: look this request was for possessive!felix and so possessive!felix i delivered. he is a little weirdo in this tbh. but i think after all my anti-rich-guy stories, i have earned the right for one problematic possessive mafia boss who throws his money and his dick around hahaha. so yes, possessive!felix, virgin!reader, wedding night, arranged marriage, felix being a criminal boss, insta-love. reader's backstory involves a verbally abusive/neglectful family. explicit sexual content. word count: 4000 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy <3

Your new husband is astoundingly pretty. You expected a different face to be waiting at the end of the wedding aisle: harsh, old, scarred. Maybe, if you let yourself fantasize, he would be handsome in a rugged way.

You were not expecting Felix. Slender, delicate Felix with his high cheekbones and freckles, his dark eyes and feather-soft blonde hair. He smiled a dimpled smile as your father surrendered your hand.

That surrender was a visual representation of a literal transaction. You were a bartering tool to save your father’s business. You knew an arranged marriage was inevitable when a few trades went sour and the company went bankrupt. The family could only maintain relevancy and safety through a match to someone more powerful.

Lee Felix is the heir to a very dirty criminal syndicate that blends in high society. Everyone knows their money is blood-spattered, but they throw a good party and the jewels sparkle the same.

You knew his name long before the wedding. Of course you knew his name. But you did not know his face. You expected a devil, not a vision of divinity, resplendent in white and gold.

Your heart has not stopped racing since he first lifted your veil and kissed you with lips softer and gentler than your grandest fantasies.

Now you are perched on a lavish bed in a beautiful penthouse suite. The walls are windows, externally tinted but offering you a glorious view of the glittering cityscape at night. You wonder how much of the city your new husband owns.

Would that be an impertinent question? It is not as though there is any real charade to play; this is not a love match and there is no sense pretending otherwise. Enquiring after financial assets is arguably appropriate insofar as business goes.

Then the door opens and your new husband enters. All thoughts of business flitter into nothing, an insignificant detail next to your wedding night. A night with this powerful and beautiful stranger.

“Are you nervous?” he asks in a voice so deep it keeps surprising you. It suits his angelic appearance in a way, something so captivating about its low tones, effortlessly melodic. But that melody is coloured darkly in its depth, scratching a shiver up your spine. When he speaks, it feels like he is trailing his fingers up your back in a curious, searching touch.

He looks at you with as much depth, dark eyes penetrating as he circles the bed. He has been nothing but polite, but you can’t help but feel like prey being circled by a predator.

Even more concerning, you can’t help but like it. Since the moment he took your hand, his eyes have not left you. It is almost overwhelming. You have been invisible your whole life. No one ever looked at you. No one ever wanted you. Your father scared off anyone who tried.

Felix is not just anyone. Anyone sensible would be scared of him.

You are also not just anyone.

“No,” you answer.

“Really?” He lifts a curious eyebrow.

You are both in your wedding clothes, all white and gold. Your veil is draped over a chair in the corner. He puts his coat there too.

He never looks away from you, rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms as he approaches the bed.

“May I ask, why not?” he asks. It’s a funny question, so polite but only posed because he knows his own reputation. He knows what you must think of him. The bloodshed, the ruthlessness, the merciless command he holds over his family’s legacy. He might look unassuming, but he is not to be trifled with. That gentle exterior could be unnerving to some people, even more than an outward brute.

But you have dealt with those brutes your whole life. An abusive father, cruel brother, an uncaring mother. Hurt, neglected, ignored.

Tonight, while you circled the reception to greet everyone, your father and brother pulled you aside. Your mother had already berated you on the details of your appearance, but they were reprimanding you for every other misstep.

You almost burst into tears, tired and frightened. You were so afraid you would never escape them. Even at your wedding, on the cusp of a new life, they were dragging you around, kicking and screaming.

Then you felt a tap on your shoulder. Bang Chan, one of Felix’s most trusted agents, stood there with a forced but cordial smile. He looked at you and not your family.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said. “Your husband is asking for you. Please, come with me.”

Your father sputtered indignantly, unaccustomed to such blatant disrespect for his authority. Chan said nothing to him, simply offered you his arm. He also opened his jacket to flash the gun in his chest holster. Your family had their weapons stripped before entering the reception. It was a subtle reminder of who was really in charge.

So your father and brother were left sputtering helplessly as Chan escorted you across the room. Felix was sitting with some of his men, smiling his bright smile and looking like any happy young groom.

That sunny face faltered when he saw your morose expression. His glance passed to your family, a flicker of anger in his gaze. Then he smiled at you and held out a welcoming arm.

“Come here,” he said. “Sit with me a bit. Please.” That deep voice. You felt it like a touch inside you. He had recited the scripted vows earlier. This invitation was his first real address.

You nodded. Your legs were shaky from the confrontation, never mind the wobble from your heels. Your feet hurt. Sitting would be a relief if nothing else.

There was an empty seat behind Felix. It was the type of seat you were usually given: at the back where you could be forgotten.

Once you were within reach, Felix grabbed you around the waist. Your breath caught as you stumbled towards him. He caught you and held you. Then you were sitting in his lap, your dress draped everywhere, a glittering ivory prize perched safe and pretty on his knee. He wrapped a possessive arm around your middle.

It was more than a power play. It was one thing to put you on his lap and show your family that he owned you now, but it was another for him to frown as he touched the painfully tight pearl belt around your waist.

“Why is this so tight?” he asked, looking at you with concern.

“I’m sorry,” you said automatically, in the habit of grovelling whenever someone took a disappointed tone. “My mother,” you spoke softly, not wanting the rest of the table to hear.

He leaned closer to you, offering you his ear directly. A whisper was all you managed, unaccustomed to such attention.

“They’re real pearls,” you whispered. “Very expensive. Very fine. Too fine for me. My mother had the belt made small so I would remember to act worthy of them. Sit straight. Not over-eat. You know.”

He frowned, his brow furrowing. Instinct compelled you to soothe that displeasure, laughing like you were not upset.

“It’s all right,” you said. “She’s right. They are very fine pearls.”

“It’s not all right,” Felix said. He looked at you, held your gaze in his own. You found yourself counting his freckles. “Do you like it?” he asked.

Maybe it was his display of power. Maybe it was his arm around you. Maybe it was the freckles. He looked so sweet, so sincere. You could not bring yourself to lie. Though you had defended your cruel family all your life, the truth fell from your lips in a rough exhale.

“No.” You felt tears in your eyes. “I know it’s expensive. I know it’s beautiful. But I’ve never hated anything more.”

He held your gaze, your watery eyes in the dark depths of his own.

Then he grabbed the belt by a thin material strand and yanked. A couple pearls popped right off and scattered. The rest dangled on the belt, an absurd amount of wealth in his hand.

Felix tossed it over his shoulder like it was garbage. Then he wrapped his arm around your waist and held you against him.

You chanced a look at your family. They were scandalized. Horrified. And you breathed easier for the first time in a long time. You have long suffered the oppressive strangle of control masquerading as love. His protective arm felt nothing like that pearl belt.

So you look at him now. You strive to articulate all these feelings. You are not used to speaking and having someone listen.

“I can’t explain it,” you say. “Maybe it’s foolish. But I… I just feel like I was meant to be here. With you. Like this.”

Your heart jumps at his expression, a luminous pleasure that brightens this dimly lit room.

“That’s funny,” he says. “I feel the same way.”

You swallow as he sits beside you. Slowly, touch by touch, breath by breath, he is bringing your bodies together. His knee touches yours, his arm your arm. He folds his hands in his lap but he is close enough you can count his freckles again.

“I need to be honest with you,” he says. “I’ve wanted you since I first saw you. A year ago. At the winter masquerade.”

You look at him with surprise. All at once, his eyes come back to you, gazing at you behind a golden bird mask at the annual winter social. You couldn’t place the handsome stranger at the time. His hair was dark then, his face in a mask. He did not speak. His distinctive voice would have given him away.

He danced one dance with you, the only person who danced with you all night. You were later reprimanded for behaving like a slut, even though he touched your waist and nothing more.

“You were very kind,” he says. “I watched you with the staff. You were the only one in that whole room to say please and thank you to them – did you know that?” He sighs and looks away, thoughts travelling beyond this room. “I came from nothing,” he says. “My family… we fought to get where we are now. But I remember, you know. What it feels like to be the smallest and least important person in the room.”

You sit straighter when he looks at you. Oh, your heart has not slowed its thunder. Excitement and affection swirl together in a motley tempest of sensation, touched by his words and yearning for more. You thought you had been sold to an uncaring bidder, but Felix touches you slowly, like he would a very fine work of art. His knuckles caress your cheek, the slope of your jaw.

“I thought…” He looks at you reverently. “I thought… I would do anything to preserve that goodness. I would protect it. Like your family wasn’t.” His brow furrows now, a shadow of his face. “They would have ruined you.”

His hand continues, knuckles skimming down your throat, your shoulder, your arm. You shiver. He has a terrible scar, scoring the whole back of his hand. A stark difference to your unblemished hand, your manicured nails against his calloused fingers.

He says, “I know what it’s like to be ruined.”

You look from your hands to his face, his handsome profile, the slope of his nose and his soft lips. He is still looking at your joined hands.

“I wasn’t always like this,” he says. “I’d give anything to have my innocence back. But I can’t.”

He lifts your hand, cradles it between both of his like something precious. Your breath catches when he kisses your palm, lips soft against your skin.

“So I told myself, I would do anything to save yours,” he says. He looks almost… afraid. An expression you never expected to see on this man. “So I destroyed your father’s business,” he says. “It was all me. I knew he would never give you to a man like me unless he had no choice. He would have given you away to one of his friends and they would have broken you. But you were already mine. So I left him no choice but to see things my way.”

“Oh,” you say, surprised beyond all words.

“I wanted you to know before anything… happens… between us,” he says. “But I understand if your feeling are complicated. Or if you… fear me.”

Your father has often boasted how many men fear him. It does not sound like a boast from Felix, rather something lamentable. His face is shadowed in shame.

“My feelings are not complicated,” you say. He is still holding your hand in both of his. You lay your other hand there, a complete joining.

He meets your gaze, an intense and imploring stare.

“I’m not my father’s daughter anymore,” you say. “I’m my husband’s wife. My loyalty is to you. My place is with you.”

“Yes,” he says, spoken on a breath. His smile returns. “Your place. I’d say you need someone to put you in your place. Your rightful place.”

He springs off the bed like there is lightning under his feet. He is all smiles and sunlight again, a beacon in the blue dark of this room. You cannot help but bask in his warmth, bereft in the chill when he leaves your side.

He takes something from his discarded coat pocket, a case swathed in velvet, soft to the touch. You hold it, admiring the texture.

He kneels behind you on the bed while you open it. Inside is the most breathtaking necklace you have ever seen in your life. When you lift it, the chain is long, designed to sit low, loose around your neck. No more chokers. No more pearls.

“Oh, Felix,” you say, breathless and amazed, then very embarrassed. You are not used to such lovely gifts. Even the pearls were a punishment. “I can’t accept this…” you say, stunned.

“You can,” he says.

He takes the clasp then strings the necklace around you. His fingers on the nape of your neck have you shivering. The necklace clasps in place, then his lips are on your neck, a chaste press that nonetheless lights fire under your skin. “It was made for you,” he says. “Like you were made for me.”

He takes the zipper of your gown between two careful fingers, so slowly lowering it. It feels like you are unravelling with it. The zipper reaches the base of your spine and his fingertips dance across your bare skin.

He steps off the bed. He looks down at you, his eyes intense but his smile soft. He touches your cheek, strokes his thumb across it lovingly.

Then he is sinking to his knees in front of you. You already feel weak as jelly, but your whole body goes soft and pliant when he gently grasps your ankle, when he slides your painful shoe off your foot and tosses it aside. He somehow finds every sore spot and rubs it better.

“This is how it works,” he says. He is on his knees but somehow his presence looms bigger than you. You cannot look away from the thrall of his gaze. “You are my wife. And when we are out there, I am your servant.” He takes your other foot and removes that shoe as well. He massages you gently. “I will never deny you anything,” he says. “You can ask me for anything. All right? I will give you the whole world. I will give you my whole heart. In return, I only want one thing.”

“What’s that?” you ask, already breathless.

“I am your husband,” he says, “and in here, you are my servant. Only I can touch you. Only I will have you. All of you. In every way. Always, starting from today. Starting from right now.”

“Yes. Yes. But I – I’ve never done this before,” you say, aching to surrender but fearful he will regret this. Though you are knowledgeable, you are lacking in experience from years of isolation. “I’ve been alone for so long,” you say. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You don’t,” he says. He lifts your leg, swoops down to kiss your calf, then higher: your knee, your thigh. “You could never,” he says, guiding your leg to rest on his shoulder. He gathers the volume of your wedding dress in his hands and pushes it up, up.

You almost forget to breathe. He kisses higher on your thigh. Then he grabs the thin material of your white tights and rips them open.

“You’re mine,” he says. “You’ve always been mine.”

You fall back on your elbows, limbs already quivering as he tears through your underclothes as if impatiently ripping open a prettily wrapped gift. With your expensive lace panties shredded and your tights in tatters, he pushes your skirts up and out of his way. You hold them while he kisses up your thigh. He runs his tongue along the seam between your thigh and somewhere much more sensitive.

“No one else has done this to you?” he asks. He already looks flushed. Desperate.

“No,” you answer. You swallow hard. “Never.” You know some men do not enjoy providing this type of pleasure to their wives, so you are about to tell him that you have no expectations in that regard—

But then he is on you like a starving man, eyes closed and mouth open and licking through all that wet desire. You fall on your back, pressing your heel into his back. He groans, pressing deeper, tongue seeking, swiping, stroking.

He grips your thighs possessively, holding you in place as he ravages you with his mouth. He takes you up and over a blissful crest. It leaves you a drenched and panting mess.

He stands, wiping his arm across his wet mouth. He does not look satisfied, eyes still hungry as he climbs on top of you.

“My wife,” he says, like the word is sacred and impossible, like he thought a man like him could never say it. “All mine,” he says, running his hands up your thighs, up your waist, touching every inch of you until he is cradling your face delicately in his careful but calloused hands.

It makes your whole body clench up tightly, your breath stuttering as he kisses you. You melt into the kiss, so different from the chaste peck of your ceremony. It is a claiming kiss, the taste of you still on his lips, his moan in your mouth, his chest against yours as those sounds of pleasure rumble through him.

He tugs down your bodice, then he is ripping through your underclothes again. When your bodice is around your waist and your chest is bare except for his necklace, you find yourself covering your breasts instinctively. He takes your hands, not forcefully but firmly, holding your gaze. His mouth is already so pink and raw from kissing. You wonder if you look as ravished. Maybe more. It makes you whimper, surrendering when he pins your hands on either side of your head.

“This is mine,” he says, kissing your jaw, your throat, then lower. “All mine, sweetheart.”

He wraps his lips around a pointed nipple and you feel the reaction between your legs, as if connected by a thread. Your legs try to close around his hips but he presses down. The crumpled skirt of your dress is between you, but he feels your thighs clenching, feels you desperately bucking.

Even his chuckle is a deep sound. He smiles at you, batting his eyelashes as he licks the curve of your breast. Your whole body twitches again.

“Mm,” he says. “You feel that? You getting all tight… and hot… just for me…”

“Felix,” you say, you beg.

He sits back on his heels to get your wedding dress off. It is a flurry of ivory and silk, earning some laughter, then it is gone and your husband is staring down at you. Again, you feel like prey, like a meal spread out helplessly for some predatory creature. Again, you like it.

He is just as impatient with his own clothes. He does not look away from you while tearing his shirt open. Buttons fly, forgotten, and he rips the material down his arms and off. His belt is next, leather whistling through the air then joining the heap on the floor. He grabs your hand and guides it to the hard shape in his white pants, groaning deep in his chest as your palm curves around it.

You are so captivated him, by the way he feels, by the sounds he makes, that you are surprised when he touches you too. Your legs part instinctively, then your thighs twitch to close when you are embarrassed by your eagerness.

“Don’t be shy,” he says. “Not with me.” His fingers feel divine inside you, gliding as if through silk, pressing at your walls and making you whimper. “Yeah, my baby. So nice… ‘n wet… for me…” he murmurs, more to himself than you. It still makes you clench, like your body wants him deeper, pulling tight around him. “God. Perfect.”

“Aren’t we g-gonna—” Your eyes drop to his waistband, then up to his eyes again.

He smiles, laughs, and withdraws his fingers slowly.

“Oh yeah, sweetheart,” he says, unbuttoning his pants. “We are. Be patient. You’re gonna enjoy this. Gonna remember this night forever.” He leans down so his body is over yours. He kisses you, presses you into the pillows. When he pulls back, he traces a finger along the necklace, smiling brightly. “The first time I made you mine,” he says, speaking low and soft against your lips. “I’m going to do everything with you,” he says. “And you’re gonna want it. All of it and more.”

He has you begging for more already. When he finally is pushing inside you, after so much torturous build-up, you are a breathless, sweaty tangle of limbs. It feels like he is pinning you to the mattress, taking you so deep and so hard, like your whole body is changing to fit him. There is a long, slow burn, but you are so wet and he is so careful; it is an ache that gives way to pleasure.

His arms are around you, holding him above you, making you feel so completely shielded and enveloped. He starts a slow pace that turns more frantic. Your hands move all over his chest and shoulders to find a grip.

“I love that no one else has seen you like this,” he says, grabbing your searching hand. He brings it to his mouth, kisses your palm, your fingers. He puts your hand on his shoulder, then he slides his hand under your head to cup your neck, holding you steady while he rolls his hips into yours. “That no one else has felt you before,” he says. “Been inside you. They don't get to have you, but I do.“

“Yes,” you say. “Always. My husband.”

“Mm.” He drops his forehead to yours. “My wife.”

You come again but it feels different, starting deep inside you and rolling outward, a full-body spasm that has you crying out his name. He comes too, holding you against him, his lips on your neck as he says your name.

Then he kisses you. Then he lays you down. He wraps you in his arms and squeezes.

“Sleep for now,” he says. “It’s been a long day. And I want you again.”

“You have me,” you say, nestling in his arms, your head under his chin.

“Yes,” he says with a smile. He looks so sweet even while his wicked hands hold your body in a strong, possessive grip. “I do.”

#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 #felix x you #valentinesdaystories

993 notes · View notes

nokacchan · 5 months

Text

Asking Felix If You Could Sleep With Him

Lee Felix x fem!reader Genre : fluff Pov : You as Felix's best friend

Chan's ver

The sounds of the crickets surrounding your tents were loud. You held the blanket in your grasp, tighter. You couldn’t fall asleep, not when you’re not in the comfort of your own home. Honestly, you didn’t want to join the boys and a few of their other friends for a short camping trip but Felix insisted that you both should go. Tossing and turning around in your tent, you couldn’t help but check your phone.

You : lix, are you awake?

You waited a few minutes with no response from him. A pout formed on your face when you realized that Felix was fast asleep. Turning off your phone and placing it to your side, you mindlessly stared at the top of your tent.

Tick tock tick tock…

At this point, you were just imagining the sound of the clock in your head. “Alright! That’s it”. You stood up and walked out of your tent. Seeing none of the boys around, you walked to Felix's tent.

He was nicely bundled up in his blanket with his hood covering the top half of his face. You quietly moved to sit beside felix. “Lix…”, you shook his shoulder. He rubbed his eyes before slowly opening it. “geez, y/n, what are you doing here?” Felix grabbed his chest, surprised to see you. "Can I sleep with you?". The pout on your face made Felix open his arms for you. “Come here”, Felix whispered, letting you lay on his chest. He pulled his blanket over you, pulling you closer. He gently combed through your hair.

“What’s keeping you up?” Felix asked. You tilt your head up to look at him. “I guess…just not in the comfort of my own home”, you replied. Felix smirked, making you furrow your brows at him. “What?”

Felix chuckled before leaving a peck on the top of your head. “Nothing~ go to sleep”. You rolled your eyes. “Spit it out, lee yongbok”. Felix brows raised in surprise. “You said you couldn’t sleep because you weren’t in the comfort of your own home” “Yeah…so?”, you raised your brows at him.

“Doesn’t that mean you find comfort in me”, he whispered into your ear. You could feel your cheek heating up at the sudden realization, you had indirectly exposed yourself. “Don’t say it that way..”, you glared at him. “Why not, I find comfort in you too”. Felix caressed your cheek. “This is so embarrassing..”, you mutter under your breath. I’m going to sleep, goodnight”, you said before turning away from him. Felix laughed, seeing your flustered expression. He rested his arm around your waist. “Goodnight love..”

bonus :

"hey..where's y/n? She's not in her tent", Jeongin spoke as he watches the boys surrounding Felix's tent.

Han placed a finger against his lips, shifting to let jeongin see the inside of the tent. There you were, sleeping peacefully in between Felix's arms.

Minho started to count down as the boys grabbed each corner of the tent.

3...2...1

The tent started to shake, waking up the both of you. Felix groaned before yelling out a 'stop' as he pulled the blanket above both of your heads.

"what's going on?", you mumbled out, eyes still shut. Felix only let out a sigh. "The boys happened..."

#lee felix #felix #lee felix x reader #lee felix x you #felix x reader #felix x you #lee felix fluff #felix fluff #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids x reader fluff #lee yongbok

1K notes · View notes

oddinarylani · 7 months

Text

'i just wished you cared about me' arranged marriage skz pt. 2.

pt 2: han, felix, seungmin, jeongin.

w: blood in han's, depression in seungmin's.

a/n: thank you for being patient, the long awaited part 2 is finally here, enjoy.

𝓱𝓪𝓷. ↴

he stumbled into your home still laughing, with the voices of his friends still booming behind him. a second later the door is closed behind him and his laughter dies down into something soft. while your ears have perked at the sound, your eyes raising from the printed page of your book, you stay put in your spot on the couch if just adjusting a bit. he slides the beanie from his head, shaking his shiny brown hair out a bit before his eyes wander to your form. “oh!” he grabs his chest, jumping slightly. the reaction brings a small smile to your face, but you quickly force it down. “why are you up? it’s super late.” he wanders to the kitchen, his voice sounding particularly far away now. your eyes roll, you thumb your book to keep your place. “i know you only go out at night, so i figured i’d stay up to see if you wanted to do something. i didn’t know you were going out.” upon your glance, you see the clock reads four twenty-seven am, and you groan, rubbing your eyes. this wasn’t the exchange you were hoping for.

when he re-emerges from the kitchen, your eyes scour his form, noticing the purplish lines that are forming in the tender skin of his under-eyes and the somewhat gaunt appearance of his pale-ish skin. you back straightens, “have you been drinking, jisung?” he’s already walking to your bedroom, but he slows his steps to a halt, turning back to lock eyes with you. “you don’t have to worry about me.”

your eyes trail on his form until he’s disappeared completely into the confines of your bedroom, only then do you sit back though still ever-worried. “of course i do, i’m your wife remember?”

jisung had fought tooth and nail for a nontraditional vampire wedding. he simply refused. it was bad enough your marriage was arranged with little to no say from the both of you on your choice of spouse, but he put his foot down at the idea of a traditional ceremony. you both wore black, surrounded by loved ones yet absent of friends, and you were bound to each other for the rest of your days. your human family was keen on this celebration of conjoining lives, having an option wasn’t an option - so with doubts you moved forward in the marriage - trying desperately hard to make things work.

a lot of your marriage to jisung was learning things about him through subtle cues - if the environment was relaxed enough it was easier to get him talking about his personal life or interests, though this had been an occurrence three times in the now two and a half months you’d been married. lack of communication was common, hence you not knowing he was going out earlier. you quit your job, finding one instead that could accommodate to nights so that you could actually see him on your off days and when you returned from work, this schedule you were still adjusting to - and it was killing you. you begrudgingly talked to his parents more in an attempt to understand his needs as a vampire, to which they let you in on the fact that jisung wasn’t the proudest to carry on the vampiric gene. with it came a lot of shame for him. he always ate in private, hunted in private, and stretched out his eating periods as long as possible. he could still consume human food, but nutrition for vampires was solely obtained by drinking blood. and as of late, you reminded him frequently of his need to eat, that it was important to him and his existence, and it was absolutely necessary.

why’d you do this? you cared for him. you had love in your heart for him. which astounded you that you felt your heart pull at just the sight of him, especially when he looked so sad and was probably starving, because jisung didn’t do much in return. he was hard to talk to, hard to communicate with - you hadn’t a single idea of how he thought of you. did he care for you? did he long to mend your new marriage? it was a guessing game. granted, you absolutely had good days with him. happy times of smiling together, laughing together, going out, exchanging gifts, meeting his friends - but the bad times were killer. and they weighed on your heart something fierce.

a few days had passed since your limited interaction with jisung - you’d seen him a few times in between then and now; before you went to work and after. maybe you hadn’t looked hard enough then, but now. now when you looked at him, you saw it written all over his face.

his cheeks were more sunken in, his eyes tired and droopy and rings of purple circled each eye. was he slimmer too? his wrists looked thinner than usual; and you found your heart breaking at the sight. he was sitting at his desktop, headphones on, eyes lost to the screen before him - every couple of seconds his mouse would click and you could hear cuts of music playing.

“jisung,” you called. when he didn’t reply or look up from his screen, you called again - this time louder. “jisung.”

he looks up with raised brows, a hand coming to lift his headphone off his ear - you see the glint of his gold band in the light of his desk lamp. “did you eat today?” you soften your voice though you’re mostly exhausted, and with it came a bit of irritation. he chews on his cheek and looks back to his screen. “yeah.”

“are you lying.” you plant your hands on your hips, you notice his leg is bouncing and he pulls his sweatshirt, the one you gifted him, over his hands. “n-no.”

you glare at him a moment more before walking out of the study. “i’m fixing you a bag.” his voice calls out behind you, “we’re out.”

you stop yourself just as you’ve made it into the living room, and walk back into the room, you lips tugged to the side as you chew on your cheek. there’s a few options laid out in front of you - and you were stupid to think you wouldn’t do any of them for him. you’re in thought for longer than you’d like to admit, jisung has resorted to toying with his somewhat dried lips as he turns back to his desktop for a moment, his headphones off now as he waits your scolding.

but scolding doesn’t happen, no. instead, you grab an extra chair from across the room and sit down in front of him, shoving your jacket sleeve up your arm with conviction. he sees how tired you are, and hates that you’ve resorted to this for him - in fact it angers him a bit.

you bear your bare wrist to him, looking down at your arm then once more at him.

“drink.”

he pushes himself out from his desk, “i don’t need your help. i can do this stuff on my own.” his voice isn’t overly angry, in reality he was a little soft for that, especially to you. he just seemed,,, tired. and it kind of killed you.

“jisung- just do it.” you shake your arm once, he stands up, shoving his hands in his pockets. his thirst drives the red in his eyes to nearly glow - you know he hasn’t much more self-control before he inevitably gives in. he’s starving. he’s craving it. he’s on the brink of ravaging your arm for christ sakes, and you didn’t for a second doubt that power from him. you understood fully well what he was capable of, you just couldn’t see him like this any longer.

“n-no! i’m not gonna do it. why do you care so much anyway? why are you doing this?”

your eyes close, head tilted to the side as if he’s just struck a nerve - well, he has. and you haven’t the patience for it any longer.

“why do i care? why do i care? i’m giving you my arm to drink from - i’m giving you my goddamn life source because i’m your wife and i don’t want you to fucking die.” you stand up, your presence itself has him taking a step back.

“i’m doing this because i care. and i care because i fucking love you! i try so goddamn hard in this marriage, jisung. because i believe in-in,, in us!” your brows pull together, eyes glossy a bit - the rage in your heart sours into something sadder and you clench your jaw so tight you feel pressure in your teeth to keep from crying.

he’s struck. totally. he watches you with wide eyes, watches the way your expression strikes anger than melts into something like hurt. the way your brow thaws together and glassiness shines in your eyes. he reaches a hand to you, the one that bears your ring and you take your arm from his grasp when he takes your hand.

“i-i,,,” you sigh in defeat, still refusing the urge to cry. “i just w-wish you cared about me.”

when he says your name it feels like it’s the first time he’s ever done so, you pace around yourself for a moment as you quell the urge to cry, running a hand through your hair. you turn, grounded in his voice as he reaches yet again for your hand - which this time you take. “i care about you so much, a-and i’m really sorry that i haven’t been showing that to you.”

you let him hold your hand as tightly as he wants, “god i feel like such an asshole,” he chuckles, though the brim of his eyes are watery. “i didn’t think you’d want much to do with me to be honest.” you feel the shakiness in his fingers and you grasp onto his hand. “especially because i’m a… y’know…”

“but i don’t care about that, jisung. you know i don’t. i don’t give a fuck less what you were if it meant we could just be happy.” he nods, swallowing through his tears. “i-i know and that… that’s why i love you.” he admits.

you shake your head, “don’t just tell me that, jisung-” you look up to him with fierce, watery eyes. “i-i’m not! i would never-” he shakes his head and reaches for your other forearm. “it scares me… a lot i think. that you won’t judge me or hold that against me but that you support me.” in his grasp he brings you a bit closer, his hands now moving from grasping your own to resting on your upper arms and shoulders. “i’m really sorry that i’ve hurt you.. that’s the last thing i wanted to do. i just got really scared and didn’t… know what to do.” he briefly reaches up to smooth your hair with both of his palms before returning them to your upper arms.

“you know what you can do when you’re scared?” you ask him, wiping your own face before settling your arms around his shoulders, your palms wrapping around the back of his neck. at the feeling of your hands, he sets his hands on your waist. “you come to me.”

he nods, “you can come to me too, any time you want. i’ll listen to everything you have to say. and i’ll try to be better.”

you smile, smoothing your hands down his shoulders. “now,” your fingers dig into the sleeve of your jacket, pulling it up and over your wrist. “please drink. i see how hungry you are, and it’s not good not to. you have to take care of yourself.” the thumb of your opposite hand smooths the soft skin beneath his eye, his brows press together and he softly frowns.

his mouth waters at the sight of your skin, glowing and pulsating with a pulse that pumps your blood just beneath your skin. he parts his lips, and for a second you see the sight of his wet fangs just below his top lip. “it’s okay, i know you can stop - i don’t want you to be hungry.”

he gets comfortable, sitting on the surface of your shared bed in the room just next to his study - his hands cradle your wrist, turning the soft flesh over to bare itself to his awaiting teeth. his eyes swim with frenzy, and per your comfort again, he leans forward and sinks his teeth into your skin. your face scrunches up at the feeling of your skin giving way to his fangs, but the feeling of his lips around the wound soothe the ache. soon he’s finished, wiping his mouth with his hand before smoothing his tongue over the wound. “my saliva will heal it over night, don’t worry.”

“it’s okay. how are you feeling? any better?” he tugs you onto the surface of the bed, his gentle fingers grabbing a nearby bandage to delicately wrap around the bite wound. the sun was beginning to rise now, and you were tired beyond belief. “i do. thank you so much.” he smooths your hair from your head, planting a kiss to your forehead.

“i really meant it when i said i was sorry and that i was going to try harder. i can’t imagine how stupid i looked to you, god,” he buries his face in your shoulder, shaking his head as you chuckled. “it’s okay. i didn’t mean to blow up that hard - i just… it all kept building up and i really wanted to talk to you but it never felt right.” your hand comes to rest on his head as he burrows further into you, you can imagine the burn of his cheeks and smile to yourself at the thought.

“well, if we’re going to be married. these are things we have to talk about i guess.” his skin is cool to the touch, you shiver at the feeling. “we can talk about whatever you want too though. like what your favorite color is or why your favorite movie is your favorite movie.”

“i like pink a lot.” he says, his cheek pressed into the pillow next to you. “why is that?” you wonder.

“it looks best on you.”

𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓲𝔁. ↴

oh he was beautiful. maybe not even that; maybe something greater.

you admired him still but frequently lost yourself to the floaty thoughts in your brain - thinking fondly back to your wedding day. he was dressed in opalescent whites of different shades, the hems of his attire glittered in the evening sun - cuts of sunlight beaming fractals down through the trees to paint his face something magnificent. and his wings. your feet carried you along the forest floor, but your eyes were blown into a sweet expression you couldn’t fight. they were transparent if not for their shining and glittering design - fine lines of sunlight itself swirled and cut into fine designs on his wings - you were starstruck in his gaze. you cradled your bouquet, and though it was now your third time meeting felix in person, his worried and saddened expression turned into something peaceful when you looked at him. despite your arguments in efforts to call off your betrothal, now when facing him, you strangely felt as if everything would just work out. he exuded a kind of sweet energy, even just his smile would bring you happiness. you interlock your hands and despite the circumstance, you can’t help but smile soft while reciting your vows, your practiced eye contact now utterly natural and right.

you’d been married to lee felix for two months and ten days - and in those days since accepting your marriage, you’d seen him only a handful of times. well, more than that, honestly, but it was easy to blur the days and times you saw him. it really only felt like you’d had a few conversations with him or shared any moments of true transparency or emotional value. he was dedicated to his job, he was. he protected the forest alongside a large force of fae people’s. regulations in the forest were strict - strong. and he took his job very seriously. he spent nearly every waking moment tangled in the trees, tending to her grasses, or playing with the forest creatures to keep the forest happy and healthy, and while you were more than proud of him of his job and his dedication, your marriage was beginning to weigh heavy on your heart. he was beginning to weigh heavy on your heart.

your job was to nurse saplings and hybrids, you were gone from your home for severely shorter hours than felix was - and while you loved your job all the same as he did his own, you couldn’t help the want for a loving marriage despite the circumstances of it being arranged. you saw him frequently laughing in the trees and vines alongside his colleagues, happily caring for the creatures of the forest with careful and loving hands, and couldn’t help but hope that one day you’d be the one making him smile, making him laugh, and be the fairy behind his loving touch. your heart swells at the very thought - ugh what a lovey he was. pure goodness you assumed. not a bad bone in his body. you just wanted him for yourself, selfishly.

how could your heart not blossom with feeling at the opportunity to be married to him? he was,,, he was so much. words couldn’t describe the ache of affection you yearned from him. the way he lived. it was profound in and of itself.

your arms cradle the sleeping sapling of a mother willow, tender palms wrapped around the baby as they slept soundly. your mind snaps back to reality, your eyes fluttering to the small angel in your arms, and you smile at the sight. “precious.” you admire, putting them back into their warm pot of soil to sleep until the next morning. evening was approaching, it was time for you to leave for the day. you float to your bag, your wings carrying you seamlessly to your things as you gather them and say goodbye to your fellow caretakers, returning home to your high tree top bungalow. your home was comfortably secluded near the top of the tree canopy, neighbors somewhat closeby to still have the comfort of community but to also have a nice peaceful feeling of seclusion in your own home. the lights wrapping around your home had been dimmed, you frown at the sight, concluding felix must not be home.

as you float to the door, softly landing on your feet, you push it open and find the lights are off and evening darkness begins to swallow your home. you sigh softly, pulling your leaf tote off your shoulder to hang it by the door. you pull clips from your hair and pad to your bedroom with your eyes focused comfortably at the floor, thinking no one was home.

that is until you enter your bedroom to see felix standing in the open space just before your bed, lifting his button-down from his head to peak into your closet for night clothes. “oh-” you jump, clutching your chest, face warming at the sight of his bare skin on display. “you scared me, sorry.” his eyes widen for only a moment before he relaxes into a smile, “oh sorry for scaring you, i should’ve left a note for you. i came home early today.” you beam gently, pulling your earrings out to leave your jewelry in a box at your vanity. “it’s okay! i’m glad you’re home. how was today?” you turn to look at him as he speaks.

he takes a sleep shirt from a hanger and begins slipping it on. “ah, the watering hole at the east side of the forest edge began growing fungus - so we had the court mages come down to get rid of it. other than that, it was surprisingly uneventful.” his face contorts into a kind of grimace as he struggles to fit his wings through the back of his shirt - trying desperately hard on his own to flutter them through the back only to get caught. you stand, moving to help him as your vision falls to his back - and you stand behind him to gently tug his wings through the back. “there you go, better?” you ponder with a soft worrisome look, rounding him to get a better look. he smiles and nods, “much, thank you.”

you take a few steps back to sit at the edge of your shared bed, once again getting lost in your head as you stare at his wings. so pretty. moonlight begins to filter in through your bedroom windows and they almost seem to glow. “what’s wrong?” he asks, catching you off guard in your staring match. he’s left his shirt opens as he looks at you, his brow scrunched. “o-oh! nothing! sorry- your wings are just,, really pretty.” you chuckle, hoping to play off any tension or awkwardness. his face flushes a true shade of pink and his gaze falls to the floor, “thank you.” his low voice in gentle in the quiet.

“but,,” he turns back, now stepping closer to you at a slower pace before he sits down in front of you. his gaze is so concerned, and he speaks as though what he has to say is hard. you match his expression, head tilting only a degree or so. “you always kind of have this expression like you’re thinking,, or that you’re getting lost in your head. do you want to talk about it?”

your cheeks flush at his notice and you look down to your hands now folded over your lap. if now was ever the time to bring up issues than you’d have to do it. were you going to drag this process on forever? you hoped not. now was the chance.

“you’re… you’re so wonderful at what you do.” you smile again, because you can’t help but give in around felix, but it’s sadder - and he worries about what’s to come despite your compliment. “you’re so dedicated. and i love seeing you smile and laugh with everything you do. with your colleagues, when you’re caring for the creatures in the forest, or when you’re caring for the plants and trees,” you pause. your lips part because you know what to say, you know exactly what to say because it’s been the only thing you think about during the day. and you simply must say it now or else you’d dig yourself into a hiding hole and never bring it up again. “but i wish,, you cared for me in the way you cared for you job. in the way you care for the forest.” your thumb circles the band on your ring finger absentmindedly. it’s become second nature. when you look down to your hand, and see the band on your finger your eyes begin to water. oh not now, please, i was doing do good.

“i’ve been meaning to talk to you about this, actually.” he starts. you lift your watery eyes and his expression melts, his hand coming up to wipe your tears but he stops himself in fear of crossing a line when really that’s all you wanted in the moment. “i..” he swallows and his eyes get lost in focusing on nowhere in particular in the room and that’s when you notice it.

his thumb is playing with his wedding band, his nail tracing the metal and fumbling with it just as you did without noticing.

your lips pull to the side as you try to keep them from trembling. “i wanted to talk to you about how we can become closer. how we can work better as a unit and build our relationship-” when the tears track down your cheeks and you look up at him, he disregards his fear and reaches out shamelessly - his pal meeting your cheek as his thumb swipes wetness from your eyes. you lean into his touch, appreciative of his warmth until it leaves you. his own eyes are a bit watery, but out of shame and guilt. “i feel,, so guilty. for making you feel that way. and i d-don’t ever want to make you feel like that again because i do care for you.” when he looks back up at you, you reach for his hand and rub his band with your thumb. “i care for you a lot.” he chuckles sadly.

“i care for you too. and i want this to work out.” you reason, now holding his left hand with both of yours. he goes quiet for a second as he dips his head and wipes his face. at the sight your heart swells and you feel a smile over take your face. “y’know on our wedding day, i thought, ‘wow i must be the luckiest person ever to be marrying the prettiest fairy in the forest.’” you chuckle, wiping your face until he laughs through his tears. “don’t say that, i’ll cry more!” you chuckle with him and this time you wipe his face with your thumbs when he can’t get past the guilt.

“i p-promise i’ll make it up to you. i’ll show you i care for you and that i can be a husband you deserve.” his gaze lifts with your hand as you thumb over his wet freckles, and he now grabs your hands sacredly.

“let’s work together, yeah?” you look over his face with a more fond expression, watching every small move he makes to wipe his face and try desperately hard to keep the tears off his flustered freckled cheeks. he nods, fiercely. this was a change you already felt oncoming, and as you settled into resting for the night, you laid beside your husband - hands kept to yourself for now as shyness seemed to settle between both of your bodies.

“i know i’ve been distant and consumed in work,, but i’ve been watching you at your job recently.” his nimble fingers pick at the surface of his pillow, pulling a stray thread from it’s place. your brows raise, a soft look of surprise graces your features as you listen. “oh?” he immediately cuts in, “not like that! i just.. wanted to see you at work but.. i didn’t know how to.. reach out.” his gaze is focused elsewhere.

“you can come visit me at work anytime. i think you’d be excellent with the sapling babies - they’d love you.” your teeth show in a genuine smile and he can’t help but think how contagious.

“i couldn’t really think much, except for how stunning you looked doing it.”

you push your face into your pillow, “you can’t say things like that,, i’ll blush.” your hands cover your face, and much to your surprise, he grasps them to pull them from your red cheeks, looking at you solemnly. “it’s true. the sun was hitting you just right and you looked so pretty,, so happy.”

he’s holding your hands again, the current if shyness feels as though he’s melted it away, and you reach out to brush a stray hair from his face, “i am happiest when with them, they bring me a lot of peace.” he beams, his wings flutter a bit behind him on the bed.

“would you want to raise one, one day?” his eyes are wide with the question, as if a great amount of hope rests on his shoulders.

“with you? absolutely.”

𝓼𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓶𝓲𝓷. ↴

“there won’t be a wedding.”

you looked up from your coffee, both of your hands wrapped around it’s now cooling porcelain. your heart drops to the lowest part of your stomach at the news, hands steadying for a better grip on your mug. every dream, every hope, all the excitement of the young you, hoping for a beautiful wedding shared with the person you loved, instantly came crashing down in a fury. you swallow, feeling the eternal dread creeping on - up your back and over your shoulders.

“can i ask why?” you look up to your future husband, finding a kind of indifference on his face, that made your heart sink further.

“my family has a last minute trip planned for the weekend we originally scheduled - we talked to your family and decided to cancel it.”

“okay.”

“i’ll make it up to you.”

for the sake of a legitimate marriage, you did stand before each other and repeat vows of no particular meaning to you - and held his hand as you walked back down the aisle in a white sundress. you slept in the same bed but didn’t know the man beside you, you said goodbye to him for his business trips but mostly thoughts of leaving consumed you while he was away (even though your family would have your head for it) you ate beside him but didn’t speak - your outlook on your marriage was bleak to say the least.

your own job consumed you of course, the marriage was for business anyway. but you took severely less trips than seungmin did - and mostly worked from home in your office, conducting meetings, discussing sales goals and the like.

and now, at your age, you came to realize something. that your life wasn’t lived for what you wanted to do or how you wanted to live, but instead was lived out by the expectation of how you were supposed to. who were you even really? and you didn’t have the best example - your parent’s marriage was arranged. and though your mom persevered in saying they were happy, you could easily read between the lines to see they were anything but.

seungmin had his good moments.

he was great at his job, very dedicated. he periodically checked in on you but it felt half-hearted. there were a few times he’d sent flowers to the house while he was away. a lot of empty promises on his part though, saying he would look forward to doing something fun when he returned home, only for his time to be taken again. you’d bury yourself in your work if that was the only thing you could do - eyes filtering over the now dying roses on your desk.

he was gone now on another business trip, he had been now for three days. in truth, you missed him. or maybe you missed the idea of him. the idea of what he could be to you, and what you could be together. it all felt very misty in your brain, a lot of thoughts you couldn’t dwell on for long periods of time as they stopped making sense. you’d try to sort through your feelings, categorize your thoughts, to better understand yourself - but most attempts remained fruitless. your marriage to seungmin was an enigma - with most of your free time spent alone, all you had to do was think of him. it was strange to admit you missed and longed for a man you feel like you don’t know, but your nights were spent planted on your couch, wondering when he’d return.

your days spent in your new home brought a wave of heaviness you haven’t looked in the eye in years. it was dreadful. every waking moment you fought to stay motivated with your job, but a large part of you hadn’t a single care. not for anything. after work, you’d crawl back into bed and sleep until waking, rotting away in your home.

until seungmin came home.

when he unlocked the door and came in with a few small bags by his side, you didn’t raise your head from your pillow, or dare to even wipe your cheeks of the tears cascading down your face - you didn’t care. you didn’t care if he saw, you didn’t care if he had something to say. you only felt the weight.

he comes into the bedroom, and upon looking at you curled up in your shared bed, wetness glistening on your cheeks, his brows furrow. “what’s wrong?”

you shake your head, mumbling something that sounded like “it’s nothing.”

he wasn’t taking that as an answer, not with the way his voice drew out and the way he came to sit on his side of the bed, his hands resting on his thighs. “what’s wrong?” he asks, this time a little softer; even just the way his voice sounded made you want to cry.

you roll to your back, eyes focused nowhere in particular as you muster up something to say. your tears fall into your hairline now, for a moment you feel as though this might be worse than dying. “should we separate?”

“like divorce? no, no we shouldn’t. what’s,, what’s going on?” he almost wants to reach out and touch you but he keeps his hands to himself for now. the news hits him with a kind of weight he wasn’t expecting; he stumbles over the words that first come to his brain, his composure slowly melting away.

“you’re never here, seungmin.” your head lulls to the side to look at him. “i care about you a lot. i just wished you felt the same.” your voice trembles on the breath of a whisper, soon your eyes are focused elsewhere yet again - and your lips shake a bit.

he grasps your hands, and pulls your weight up until you’re resting in his arms. his hold is light - as if he were afraid to touch you but he does anyway. your heart explodes - he holds you because he understands it’s what you need. and you realize, this is the first time he’s ever held you, and you hope to whatever greater source there is in the world, that it isn’t the last.

“i’m sorry.” he pats your back with a gentle hand, and he feels your arms circle him lightly. “i do care for you.”

you sit in his hold comfortably, listening to him as he periodically speaks. “i’m sorry i’m never home. the business has kept me really busy, and, to be honest, i didn’t know what to do.”

you understand more now than ever that, it’s hard for him to speak his emotions. and while it might be awkward, it meant so much more that he was trying. his long sleeve shirt is soft against your palms, you flatten them more, pressing closer to him a bit - hoping it doesn’t make him uncomfortable, but rather it urges him to speak more on his feelings.

“i assumed you’d be unhappy, and honestly, i wouldn’t blame you. i wanted to try to make things work.. i just didn’t know how.”

that was, perhaps, the most words you’d heard from him - and you were beyond happy with his honesty.

“i mean, it wasn’t like our marriage was ideal but i too want to make it work. i believe we can.”

when your bodies separate, and seungmin fumbles with his fingers that peak just past the sleeves of his shirt, you’re both swallowed in a kind of silence, one you wouldn’t label, but one that was loud. “what,, what do you want me to do? to be better?” he asks quietly.

“just talk to me.”

“talk to you? what do you want to talk about?”

“anything.”

for the next few hours, as the moon hung high in the night sky, you sat in your bed and talked. like people did. like married people did.

“when i was 14 i got a bone spur in my ankle from working at an amusement park.” you chuckled, seungmin laughs beside you as well. “how’d you do that?”

“i jumped down onto a platform and i didn’t bend my knees when i landed so,” you mesh your fingers together, “crunch. y’know?” his expression changes to a grimace of sorts, “i broke my elbow playing baseball as a kid.”

“you played baseball?”

“i did.”

𝓳𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓲𝓷.↴

“before you are five people, you must choose a significant other to marry.” were the words spoken to jeongin - words he was expecting to hear, dreaded ones - evil even in prospect. he was raised for this moment, this was one of many he must complete in his family’s line of work. his choices were limited, but this one seemed impossible. his steps were counted, he rolls through his foot, keeps a sharp gaze so his intentions aren’t questioned, not in front of his father, and he looks between the wide-eyed looks that stare at him with hope. not hope of being chosen, no quite the opposite.

there was only really one option -

you.

you were beautiful, maybe not even that but something he couldn’t label or put a finger on. it stole breath from his lungs as he raised his hand without a second thought, pointing to your slightly hunched composure.

“you.”

it was the first words he ever spoke to you - and you wanted nothing more in that moment for them to be the last. but you knew hope cost very little in your new life. you were unsure of the price over your head for marriage to the son of the leader of the biggest crime ring in the area, but you hoped it hurt his pockets if anything. you were to be married to jeongin now, and that was your life’s purpose. you would part from your family, and move into a house suitable for newly weds, you’d forget everything you loved, everyone you loved, if it meant he was happy.

you were wedded in a small ceremony, only surrounded by your parents and other members of the crime syndicate. your father handed you off your arm to the man that was soon to be your husband, and you took his hands with a grip too easy to slip. he grasps your hands, soon loosening his hold upon feeling your reluctance in your hands. but it isn’t reluctance in just your physical touch with him - but it’s the reluctance in your eyes. the way light doesn’t shine in them or sparkle, and you speak your vows with such shame it kills him.

so he vowed to stay away. if it made you happy.

but you weren’t happy. not really.

was he? he didn’t know.

but even from the start, he felt your sadness when you spoke to him, the light still hadn’t returned to your pretty face, well. there was one thing that made the sparkle gleam in your expression,

painting.

fuck you looked beautiful when you painted. lost in the color - the washes, forgetting your hands were smeared and wet and that your cuticles were crackling with paints to no wits end but you continued, and you would persevere. you’d surround yourself with happiness and feeling only translated and spoken through the mouthpiece of a canvas, and he could sit and watch you forever, just admiring the way you lost yourself in something for a moment that wasn’t your marriage.

“what would make you happier?” he’d asked one day.

you raised your gaze up from the marble of the extending bar of the kitchen counter, your cheek between your teeth. it was a question you weren’t ready for, one that you thought he’d never ask. “i’d like to paint more.” you answered, almost smiling a bit through the dark lines beneath your eyes.

in truth, you could see the good in jeongin. the reluctance to follow in his father’s footsteps, the boyish, happy energy he so little exuded that you only wished to see more of. yes. in truth, jeongin was beautiful. yet he chose to show it so little. you wonder if it was fear, trauma even - but he seemed so far away, so distant.

“okay.” it was simple. and a week later, he showed you to one of the spare bedrooms in your home - canvas’ covered the walls and a desk and stool stood in the middle of the room, an array of different paints grouped in boxes and a great big container of brushes sat on it’s surface. you could’ve cried at the sight, but instead thanked him, a number of times, and began on your next piece.

and after that, he was gone again. all hidden behind stern expressions, his suits and ties and whispers of jobs and missions. you’d lost him again, and damn it all you were tired.

you’d been defeated since you said yes to him, no you’d been tired since you’d found out you were to be married to a stranger. and now, when you felt like things were going somewhere, he was just,, gone. you were sick, sick of feeling this way. feeling like your life had no other meaning than to be strangers, sick of him not talking or trying, just sick.

so you pushed a blade into your first canvas. you cut through the paint, the flesh of it, cut through the hours, the focus, the mess ups and successes, and you kept going. you dragged the blade through the wooden circumference and threw it to the ground with your hair flying behind you.

jeongin came in a moment later to hear the commotion - finding a few of your paintings destroyed, tears running down your cheeks, and your form huddled in the corner of the room with your knees pulled to your chest. you were hysterical - like your filter had diminished and your true thoughts were the only thing capable of leaving your lips.

“i-i-! i-i just wished you cared-!” you yelled.

he grabs your face, holding steady in both of his hands.

and suddenly, the only thing you see is him.

and he was there. there. with his brows pressed together, and his thumbs swiping over your cheeks soft. he was there.

“i’m here- i’m here.” his voice steadies your heart, his presence centers your attention on him and him alone - and despite the pure rage you felt at him - he was the only person you had. and the only one you wanted.

your breathing slows, as do your tears, and you lower your hands, letting them rest on his forearms. “you’re,, here.” you repeat as if he’d disappear.

he nods, his thumbs smoothing over your cheeks. “that’s right. i’m right here. i’m not going anywhere, i promise.” he assures.

he was numbly grounding - he pulled you out of your own head so quick you saw stars and felt whiplash. and now, in steadiness, you grasp his hands from your face and hold onto him tight. “b-but,, why aren’t you ever really here? why don’t you care-” you hiccup.

“because i don’t know how to be.”

you look at him with an expression only capable of melting, and your face contorts sadly again and he tries. “j-just don’t leave. just try, please? i want this to work because it kills me.”

“i won’t leave. i won’t. and i do care. i really do, so much. i’m sorry.”

though you feel like strangers, and he still feels so far away, you stretch your arms outward and you grasp onto his waist - and in a way you weren’t expecting, he wraps his arms around you, and holds you like he’s known you for years. and maybe in some kind of way, he did.

“i believe you but just.. can we talk? can we do fun things married people do? like go on dates and watch stupid movies?” your tears fall gently now, rounding the flesh of your cheeks in a way he thinks is so pretty, so unlike how he understood you before. but now, when you look at him, you feel like you see a man you know. one you can trust.

he nods, vigorously as he pulls you from his arms. “i want that, and i’ll try okay? i promise,” his hands grasp your own, “i promise i care. i really do.”

you nod, now too consumed with teas to speak again, and instead you push your face into your hands and sit back on your legs between his own. he takes a moment to look around the room, finding art even in your destruction.

“your paintings,” he frowns, standing. he picks one up, stretching his arms out to look at it. his expression is sad, genuinely sad, and it kind of surprises you to see that.

“it’s okay.”

he looks to his right to see you, swallowed in a tainted sweatshirt, and he smiles, setting it against the wall in front of him.

“let’s make new ones.”

i have no concept on whether these are good or not, i've been working a lot and i'm actually sick rn but persevered through seungmin's and jeongin's. lmk what y'all think.

2K notes · View notes

yxngbxkkie · 10 days

Text

pranking the husband (l.y.f)

okay, so i saw this tik tok today and instantly had an idea for my baby, felix 🫢 this is fucking adorable. i love it, i hope you love it 🩷

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

You keep giggling to yourself while in the bathroom, and you're surprised Felix hasn't come to ask you what's so funny. You glance over your shoulder, a smile on your lips as you watch your husband scroll through his tik tok.

“Cutie,” you mumble to yourself, making a mental note to kiss him after you finish the tik tok you're about to make.

While scrolling through your for you page this morning, you found a trend that you wanted to try on Felix. You're typically not one to make tik toks, but you don't actually post any of them, but this one makes you want to see how he'd react.

You stealthily put up your phone, checking to see if both of you are in it before hitting record. You fluff your hair and check yourself out in the mirror.

“Babe, how much longer do we have?” You ask him, knowing you need to leave in twenty minutes.

Felix doesn't look up from his phone, answering your question. “Twenty minutes. Are you ready?”

“No, not yet,” you sigh and rest your hands on your hips. “I'm not sure I really like the outfit I'm wearing.”

Your husband lifts his head, his eyes roaming down your body. “You don't? I think you look really good, sweetness,” he smiles at you, seeing the love in his honey-brown eyes.

“God, I love you,” you smile at him, blowing him an air kiss. “But, I think I'm going to change. There's another outfit I've been dying to wear.”

Felix pouts but gives in, nodding his head. “If it'll make you happy, go ahead,” he mentions, puckering his lips for a kiss.

You melt at his cuteness, feeling your heart fluttering in your chest. You reach where he's sitting before planting a kiss on his lips. You giggle softly and pull away before he can deepen it.

“Okay, can you get out real quick so I can change?” You ask him nonchalantly, taking a step back.

Felix nods his head, closing the apps on his phone as he stands up. Your jaw drops a bit as he just strolls out of the room. You glance towards your phone when his voice echoes into the bedroom.

“Wait!” He rushes back in, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Why am I leaving the room? You got changed in front of me earlier.”

You bite your lip, deciding to keep playing along. “Well, I wanted the outfit to be a surprise,” you tell him while leaning against the bathroom door frame.

He narrows his eyes at you before walking closer to you. You go back into the bathroom, holding your hand out in case he tries to tickle you. He's sneaky like that.

Felix finds your phone propped up and points a figure at you. “You sneaky! You're doing a bit,” he figures it out, laughing cutely.

You giggle as his arms wrap around your waist. You hug him tightly, both of you swaying in your shared bathroom. “I saw it on tik tok,” you tell him, combing your fingers through his hair.

“I can not believe you almost got me,” he laughs, pulling back. His gaze meets yours, and Felix smiles softly before kissing you again.

“I love you, my baby,” you grin, planting short kisses on his lips and cheeks. “Plus, you should know that I prefer to strip in front of you.”

Felix's smile turns into a smirk, one of his hands finding a place on your waist. “You love my eyes on you,” he impossibly moves in closer, his chest pressing against yours.

“Baby,” you sigh, tilting your head back when he starts kissing your neck. “We're gonna miss our reservation.”

“What if,” Felix trails off, placing a chaste kiss on your lips, “we canceled.”

You pout at him while grabbing a hold of one of his hands. “But, baby, we've already had to cancel on them once. I don't want to do it again. Chan was telling me how excited he is for tonight. And, two, I got all pretty for you. Don't you want to show me off?”

“You do look pretty,” Felix sighs, taking in the outfit you've “decided” to keep on. “And, I love showing you off. Can I eat you out when we get home?”

You throb at his question, squeezing his hand you're holding. “I can never say no to you,” you chuckle breathlessly, leading your husband towards the front door.

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

515 notes · View notes

nonranghaes · 10 days

Text

felix looks half-asleep by the time he enters your apartment, and you sit up to see if he's there alone. he's not, as chris stands in the open doorway, chuckling to himself before waving and wishing you well before leaving. he drops his bag in the doorway, shuffling out of his shoes and into his house slippers before crossing the living room.

and then he's flopped down onto you, burying his face in your neck as he wraps his arms around you. "missed you," he mumbles, planting a chaste kiss against your skin before cuddling in. "did you miss me?"

you giggle softly, tapping his side a little. he moves back enough for you to wiggle your arms out so that you can hold him. now that you're more comfortable, you pull him back into your embrace and kiss the side of his head. "of course," you say. "did you have a good time?"

"mmhm. you should come next time. mom wanted to see you again." he snuggles in closer to you, warm as ever. "next time she's here, she wants to get lunch."

"with me? or both of us?"

"you," he mumbles. "both of us, too, but mainly you." he chuckles softly to himself, his eyes finding yours in the low light. "i think she likes you more than me."

"well... you know how that feels," you brush back his hair from his eyes. your family loves felix to the point where they're always asking about him and wanting to talk to him when you call home. "but i'd like that." you cup his cheek, and he leans into your touch. "wanna go to bed?"

"yes, please," he pecks your lips. "i slept on the plane, but..." he takes your hand as he's getting up. "i'll unpack in the morning."

you just follow him off of the couch, following after him. "lix?" you say softly, and he turns to you with a sleepy hum. "i'm glad you're home."

he squeezes your hand tighter. even while so sleepy, he gives you a cute smile, and speaks again, "i'm glad you're my home, too."

#nonranghaes.thoughts #nonranghaes.skz #stray kids imagines #stray kids x you #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #skz x you #skz x reader #skz fluff #felix fluff #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #felix x you #lee felix x you #lee felix fluff

722 notes · View notes

hyunsvngs · 4 months

Text

hyunsvngbinimas!

pairing: lee felix x fem!reader

warnings: they're in love your honor, mostly vanilla, brief rimming, brief foodplay, kitchen sex, clit play, unprotected sex, creampie

You hate that Felix is so good at these types of things. He’s had to help you reassemble your gingerbread house three whole times now, when it’s unceremoniously fallen apart on the tray, and his creation looks perfect. He’s even done you and him standing outside in icing, with Bbokari standing next to you both as your little chick pet.

Not that you’d have been able to truly focus on yours anyway. Felix had been accidentally brushing against you, grabbing your waist, sometimes pushing past you to grind his cock on your ass. It was meant to be a cute experience, both of you in matching Christmas pyjamas and Felix in his Santa hat, but of course your gremlin of a boyfriend had to turn it into something sexual.

“Mine looks bad,” You whine, stomping your feet. Felix looks at your house, all slanted walls and barely-attached roof of it, and bursts out laughing. You whine again, elbowing him in the tummy softly. It’s his fault! “Felix. Don’t be mean! Not all of us can be super creative.”

“I know baby, I know,” He’s still laughing, but he wraps his arms around your middle. The Christmas music is still playing softly in the background, and he sways you and hums along to the song. His Christmas hat tickles your neck, and you finally let yourself smile, hands grabbing his forearms where they rest around you. “At least you’re good at making cookies. Look! You even did a Jureumi one for Minho hyung.”

You blink at the cookie where it’s cooling on the tray, before nodding in acknowledgement. The lines are a little bit wonky, but you know Minho will kiss your forehead and thank you nonetheless. “I think he’ll like it.”

“He will,” He nods, kissing your cheek. “He’ll love it, baby, and if all else fails, Chan will love your gingerbread house.”

“He’ll just lie to be nice about it.”

“Well, yeah, but-” Felix is cut off by his own giggle as you swat at him, before he grabs your hands, rendering you motionless. “Don’t attack me! It’s Christmas!”

You ignore the urge to tell him that it’s not quite Christmas yet. You’d been invited to Felix’s dorm to bake for the other members and have a sugar-infused Christmas party prior to the actual day, and Felix had ushered everyone out so that it would be a surprise. An unhappy surprise, you think, because your gingerbread house looks shit.

“It’s not my fault it looks bad anyway, Felix,” You groan, pointing an accusing finger at him. He throws his arms up in surrender, a faux-innocent look on that beautiful freckled face. “You kept touching me.”

Felix drops his arms then, giggling. “Did it get you hot under the collar, baby? That’s so cute,” You let him crowd you against the counter, the smell of gingerbread and sweet icing filling your senses. He braces you with his arms, surprisingly muscly, and your hands come up to your chest as if to defend yourself. “You’re so cute. I couldn’t help myself, not with you looking so delicious in these pyjamas.”

You glance down at your pyjamas. Minnie Mouse in a Christmas dress stares you dead in the eyes. “I have Minnie Mouse on my shirt.”

“That’s what makes it so cute!” Felix gushes, a smile on his face. “You know I love you looking so domestic. It makes me just wanna… y’know.”

You watch with an amused smile on your face as he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. He’s so ridiculous. You love him. “Makes you wanna what?”

“Touch you,” He breathes, leaning in to peck your lips chastely. When he pulls away, there’s a more determined look on his face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “I want to touch you. I have since we started this fucking baking date. I just wanna bend you over the counter and make you cum, you look so cute.”

Oh. Your chest starts heaving, breaths tumbling out your lips. “Oh, Felix…”

“Will you let me?” Felix questions, little fingers coming up to play with the collar of your shirt. His hands are burning hot on your skin, making you squirm in your spot and huff out a sigh. “I want to make you cum, baby. Will you let me?”

“I- Yes, yeah, I’ll let you.”

“So cute,” He murmurs, dark doe eyes scanning your face, and then he’s kissing you. You let him, mouth opening pliantly for Felix’s typical soft, yet messy kisses, open mouthed and channelling all of his love through them.

The pom pom on his Santa hat dangles precariously and tickles your face, but you ignore it, fingers moving up to rest on his broad shoulders. He crowds further into your space, if it’s even possible, and pushes his hands up your shirt. You gasp into the kiss when his hands knead your breasts, sans-bra due to your intended comfort in your pyjamas. Your nipples are hard, pebbled against his palms, and he groans into your lips.

Felix groans into the kiss, his deep timbre reverberating through you, and then he’s shoving his hand down your bottoms. “I wanna play with your clit, make you cum before I push inside,” He huffs, and you nod eagerly, letting your legs fall apart just slightly to accommodate him. His fingers push into your folds, finding your clit and almost whining at the mess he finds between your legs. “Oh, baby. It’s so wet down here, you liked me touching you?”

“I always like you touching me,” You murmur, a pink flush rising to your cheeks. Felix chuckles, and then he’s rubbing circles around your clit. He always knows how to touch you, how to make you cum so quickly and so hard that you’re seeing stars and can’t breathe for a minute afterwards.

You usually love tangling your hands in his hair while he pleasures you; you love to hear his sharp intake of breath each time you tug a little harder. With the scarlet santa hat hiding his locks, you’re lost. His fingers speed up, harsh circles on your sensitive bundle of your nerves making your hands scrabble for purchase, flitting between his chest, his shoulders, cupping his cheeks and bringing his lips back to yours. You don’t know what to do with yourself, you can barely contain your upcoming climax.

“Felix,” you utter, a breathy moan. “Lix, Lix, look at me.” He looks up obediently, dark eyes wide as they meet yours. “Cumming, cumming, I-”

He hushes you with a kiss, he doesn't need to hear what you're trying to say. He knows you're cumming, he sees it in the way you look at him, the way your eyebrows furrow and your fingertips dig into his skin with a wail. He feels it as your wetness floods his fingers, and he gives you a second to try and catch your breath before speaking.

“Good?” Felix chuckles, kissing your nose. You scrunch your nose up in response, and he does it again, and again, until he stops and presses his forehead against yours. “Mm. I want to fuck you. Can I?”

“Yeah,” You nod, smiling. “You can always fuck me. How do you want me, Lixie?”

“God,” He grins, teeth white and shining. You let your eyes trail across his freckles while he thinks, hands securely on your waist and eyes fluttering shut. He hums, and then spins you around, pressing your front into the counter. “Like this. Bend over for me, baby, I’ll hit it nice and deep.”

You wiggle your ass teasingly and Felix moans, slapping your asscheek. It only takes a second and he pulls your pyjama trousers down with your underwear, running a thumb through your folds.

“So sloppy,” He muses, and then you hear him sigh. “I want to try something, baby, stay still for me.”

He reaches over and you hear a few clattering noises, and Felix dribbles something cold on your ass. You squeal, shifting, before his hands go to your hips to keep you in place.

“Lix, what’s-”

“Icing,” He groans, and you hear him shifting onto his knees. His tongue hits your skin, licking up the trail of sweetness on your asscheek. His tongue dips over your skin a few more times for good measure, even going as far to lick over your asshole, tonguing the rim.

“Lix, please, I can’t wait,” You whine, hips wiggling tantalisingly. “Lixie, please, please-”

You’re cut off by the feeling of the blunt press of his cockhead against your hole. It has you wondering briefly if the boys are going to come home halfway through you getting fucked, and it makes you whimper, pushing your hips back into Felix’s cock. The feeling of his pyjamas against your skin makes you realise that he’s fucking you with just his cock pulled out, otherwise fully clothed, and you gasp, feet kicking against the floor.

“Gimme it,” You slur, head dropping down onto your arms. “Wet enough, feel, gimme it!”

When his cockhead breaches your hole you wail, loud and unabashed.

“Pussy’s so fucking tight, baby, fuck,” He groans, sinking into your heat slowly. You whine, pushing your hips back on him again, and his hands splay across your ass. A beat passes, and then he’s thrusting into you, slow and passionate and so delicious that it makes you moan. You feel his pubes against your ass, trimmed hairs on his balls slapping against your clit with the sinuous rhythm. “Feel good? Tell me, tell me, fuck, baby…”

“It’s so good, Felix, I can feel everything, it’s so- hnnnng, Felix, Felix, please, faster-”

“I’ll cum if I go fast, baby, give me a second,” He huffs, head dropping to your neck. His chest presses against your back, and he continues to fuck you slowly for a bit before he speeds up. With the position, he’s got you deep and pliant, legs spread for him to do what he wants to you against the counter. Finally, his pace increases and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You feel a wave of pleasure crash over you as Felix's thrusts become faster and harder, his cock hitting your cervix with every thrust.

“Ah, ah, like that, like that, oh my god,” You moan, eyes rolling back into your head. Felix always fucks into you just right, and you reach back to grab onto his hand, pulling him closer into you. “Oh, keep going, just like that, I’ll cum again, I’ll cum.”

“Cum for me, cum for me,” Felix moans, his voice higher pitched as his balls slap against your clit. He’s getting close. Your pussy’s so wet that the slapping sounds echo around the kitchen, yet your moans and whines are louder than anything else. “Baby, c’mon, cum for me, I’ll cum inside.”

Your head lolls forward, your bottom lip wet with drool. Felix rarely came inside, too worried about the risks, and the idea has you hurtling into ecstasy. “You’ll- really? You’ll cum inside? God, I want you to, Lixie, please-”

“I’ll fill you up, baby, I promise, c’mon. Show me how good this cock makes you feel.”

With a particularly well-timed thrust into your g-spot, you fall apart, wailing through your orgasm and trying to grip onto the counter with sweaty palms. Your cunt flutters around Felix’s cock over and over, the tightness forming a new intensity for him, and he groans before his hips halt against your ass. You feel his hips trembling against you as he cums inside, filling you up with pulses of white cum and making you feel full of him. It’s so hot, so sexy that it almost makes you want to go again, but you’re interrupted by the sound of voices by the front door.

“Oh my god,” Felix mumbles, pulling out of you with haste. You gasp at the realisation that the other boys are back, yanking your bottoms up and trying to ignore the feeling of Felix’s cum leaking out of you. He shuffles around the kitchen awkwardly, putting as much distance between the two of you as possible, and you giggle as he wiggles his bottoms up awkwardly.

You both try to make yourself look busy, trying to fix your now collapsed gingerbread house and fiddling with the cookies. You hear a scoff from behind you, and you turn around to see Seungmin, Minho and Jeongin. The youngest has a dumb smile on his face, Minho looks to be suppressing the loudest laugh he’s ever done and Seungmin’s scowling.

“Hi!” Felix says, too cheery. “Do you wanna try our gingerbread house?”

“Only if you promise that’s actually icing,” Seungmin remarks, raising an eyebrow. You flush, lips parting in shock. “It stinks of sex in here.”

Jeongin grins, elbowing him playfully. “As if you’d know, hyung.”

“No, but seriously,” Minho smirks, eyes flitting between you and Felix. “Can’t you two do anything without fucking like rabbits?”

Felix turns to you, a bright blush beneath his freckles. You’re embarrassed, but the soft look in his eyes reassures you, a fond smile on his face. “It’s Christmas, and we’re in love.”

You coo, and Seungmin fake gags.

“You’re both disgusting.”

#hyunsvngbinimas!#lee felix smut #lee felix fanfiction #lee felix x reader #lee felix imagines #felix smut #felix fanfiction #felix x reader #lee felix x you #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz smut #skz x reader #skz scenarios #skz imagines

917 notes · View notes

kangnina · 21 days

Text

MDNI - My corruption kink has really been getting the best of me this week AND it's Felix Friday. So you know what that means! 🫠

BFF!Felix has known you since grade school. He’s watched you grow up alongside him. He knows how to make you laugh. When you cry, he knows how to cheer you up. He knows you’re a good girl who would never break the rules. You call him “Sunshine” and he calls you “Moonlight.” You’re so close knit that everyone thinks that you two are dating. His college buddies swear he’s had to have fucked you at least once. But you’re just friends so he’s never even tried. Yet…

BFF!Felix invited you to come hang out with him like you often do on Saturday nights. Sweatpants and B-rate movies. Lying on the couch, he pulls you into him a little tighter. That’s when you feel it. Pressing into your back. You pretend not to notice but he moves his hips slightly. Rubbing himself on you. “Felix,” you whisper. “Hmm?” he says but doesn’t stop. You feel your body heating up at the soft sounds he’s making in your ear. You’re aroused but nervous. Suddenly he stops, to take off his shirt. Then he starts rutting against your ass again, stroking your hair and kissing your neck.

BFF!Felix rubs your breast over your crop top. You tense up. “It’s ok,” he says huskily. “I’m your best friend, right?” he asks, still rubbing himself against you. You nod, trying to relax. He pulls down his sweatpants, freeing his hard, leaking cock. He reaches to pull your pants down and you grab his hand. “Felix, I’ve never–” But of course, he already knows. He gently sucks on your neck. “I know, Moonlight. Just wanna feel your skin against mine. Touching doesn’t count. I promise I won’t put it in … unless you want me to,” he whispers. Well, you can’t argue with that logic.

@moonlightndaydreams

BFF!Felix 2

882 notes · View notes

rachalixie · 9 months

Text

forgive me for what i haven't done

summary: you arrive at your enemy's kingdom under the guise of making peace. the prince being nice to you wasn't part of the plan.

genre: strangers to lovers, hurt/comfort

warnings: she/her reader, reader's father is emotionally manipulative and physically harms her, mentions of violence

word count: 17.5k

a/n: absolute massive thank you to @sulfurcosmos, @isilentprincess, and @woahfruity for reading this through and giving me your honest feedback. i truly appreciate you <3 this fic has sent me through the five stages of grief.

you can’t ignore the bruising grip your father has on your arm as he walks you to the steps of the large palace. the journey here was a mere two hours, but it feels like this palace was built out of another world altogether. it’s shorter than your own, absent are the dull reaching peaks and towers of your home, traded for warm bricks covered in snaking ivy and the shining sun peeking through powdery clouds. where it lacks in height, it makes up for in its expanse. the building was wider than any you’ve ever seen.

it was more beautiful than any building you’ve ever seen, too.

you hope your nerves don’t show as you throw one last glance back at the carriage you arrived in; it would soon take away your handmaidens that had made the journey with you, and you wouldn’t see them again until you went home. it makes your heart ache that the only people you felt comfortable with were leaving you behind. you try and focus on the present instead, knowing that wallowing in self-pity would get you nowhere. you had hours of meeting strangers ahead of you, making polite small talk with them and learning whatever information you could about the royal family until you could go to bed and be upset in private. you weren’t here for pleasure anyways, your father had reminded you as the carriage had pulled in. you were here for a reason.

the first person you make eyes with is the king, a kind looking man, hair and beard speckled with gray and a soft smile on his face as he takes in his visitors. he had invited you and your father here, a gesture of goodwill, an unspoken plea for peace between your two kingdoms.

“they want peace,” your father had scoffed, throwing the letter from the neighboring king to his desk. you watched as it slid off and fluttered to the floor. “the scum that killed your grandfather want peace, and they dare ask me to negotiate a treaty with them.”

“well,” you started, swallowing down your nerves like you did every time you spoke to your father. since your mother passed, all those years ago, you had taken over the role of his confidant, like he did with her. though, he never listened to your advice when you gave it; you were simply a body for him to talk at, to pour out his grief and frustration out on. “did the king not overthrow his own father? he is not the man that hurt our family, and i assume neither are his sons. can we not let the past stay in the past?”

the two kingdoms are small - a unity between you would open opportunities for new trading, allies in battle, new paths to resources that your people don’t see.

“their bloodline is rotten,” he says, definitive. “i would be doing the world a service by ridding it of their pitiful existence.”

his words of extremity did not surprise you; he spoke of all of the neighboring kingdoms in this way. he was not one for alliances, keeping the borders of his territory locked to outsiders, deeming them not fit to enter his kingdom. you can barely remember a time when foreigners or immigrants inhabited the now barren lands.

“and the people in their kingdom?” you question. “they are truly innocent. will they be given refuge here once their kingdom has fallen?”

“i do not care!” he spits out at you, eyes burning in anger, and you shrink back a little. “they will burn along with their miserable rulers. i will find a way to take them down, all of them, to make them pay for what they did to my family. and you, gods help me, will do as i say.”

and you would. in truth, you had barely even considered going against him. you were alone, you had no options other than following through with his wishes, no escape from him and his cruelty. you had nowhere to go that he would not find you. and yet, he remained vexed as he moved closer to you, speaking quietly in a manner that was more terrifying than if he was yelling at you. his fingers curl around your upper arm, like a warning-

“welcome,” the king’s voice breaks you out of your memory, and you muster up a smile for him. “thank you for making the journey here. and please, call me stephen. you are esteemed guests here, no need for formalities.”

your father doesn’t offer the same notion back, nodding coldly at your side. king stephen furrows his brow for a moment, and it’s clear on his face that he’s caught off guard. so expressive for a royal, you muse as he shakes his head and the smile returns to his face.

“my sons,” stephen gestures to the boys standing by his side, the ones you had yet to lay your eyes on. “crowned prince christopher, his betrothed, the lady roseanne, and our youngest, felix.”

betrothed? you did not know the older son was engaged. this complicates things. you can feel the anger coming off in waves from your father, and you place your hand on his forearm for a moment. not now, please, you mentally beg, and you almost sigh in relief when the tension leaves his body, turning your attention to the two royals in front of you.

the taller of the two dons a mop of curly hair under his circlet, cleanly pressed clothes shining with the royal blue of their family. a striking woman is at his side, an arm loosely curled around his. as he moves forward to greet your father, linking arms like the king had, your attention is drawn to the boy left standing alone.

the shorter boy is what you can only describe as ethereal. his features are sharp in all the right places, smoothed out by soft planes and dips covered in starlight scattered freckles. his clothes are similar to that of his brother’s, but no crown adorns his head.

he might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. it makes your knees weak.

“i am felix,” he says, his voice deeper than you would expect from the gentle features of his face. he dips his head a bit, a sign of respect, as he takes your hand and presses a gentle kiss to the back of it. your voice is steady when you respond with your own name, and you’re glad for it.

his attention is diverted when your father’s hand lands on your shoulder, his touch more gentle than it ever is whilst away from prying eyes.

“my daughter, princess y/n,” he announces, a proud smug on his face when you shyly curtsey. he must think your timidness is a ploy to get their trust, and not as a result of the raging nervousness boiling under your skin.

“it’s an honor to meet you, your highnesses,” you meet each of their eyes, looking for any sign of malice, but you find none.

“come inside, please,” the king beckons, and the circle of knights that had been flanking him move aside gracefully to make way to the tall archway leading inside the palace. you’re once again taken away by the beautiful architecture inside, melting candles lining the walls made of warm brick. “we will begin the peace talks tomorrow, spend the day settling from your journey.”

“we will go freshen up,” your father states, cutting your exploration short with a poorly concealed fake smile donning his face. you hope no one else can see through him the way you can. “and we will meet you for dinner?”

he doesn’t wait until the king answers before he pulls you off to a hallway, beckoning over a servant and barking at him to show you both to your chambers. you pray to the gods that your hosts see your father’s unorthodox behavior as a difference in customs, rather than rudeness. the servant looks flustered, eyes wide as he directs you to your adjoined chambers, and you almost feel bad for him. you’re sure he can tell when your father’s anger returns, getting stronger the further you walk from the royal family, and you keep your head bowed until the two of you are behind closed doors.

he lets go of your arm harshly, almost throwing you off of him in his haste and if you weren’t so afraid you would remind him that he probably shouldn’t yell as you’re sure he was about to do.

“he is engaged?” he growls out, teeth gritted together in fury. “this was not in the intel that i was given. this does not fit into our plan!”

his plan was for you to woo the prince, get him to fall in love with you, and then to kill his father and take the throne. nevermind the extensive gaps that he didn’t care to think out, that you weren’t brave enough to tell him about. the thought of the prince not going along with the neighboring king taking over his kingdom never crossed his mind; it was either extreme hubris or immense stupidity on his part. perhaps it was both.

“will i have to marry him? the prince?” you asked, avoiding his eyes. you kept your voice as leveled as you could, but you couldn’t completely mask the apprehension you were feeling.

“you will do whatever is necessary to gain his trust. if the boy proposes, you will accept.” he said, clinical and cold like he wasn’t gambling with your life. if your father was correct, these men were murderers, men who killed others in cold blood. what would the prince do if he discovered your father’s plan? how long was he expecting you to keep up this charade?

“control yourself,” he says when he takes in the tears pricking at your eyes, the wobbling of your lips as the gravity of his words sink in. “those of our class do not weep so easily.”

“what do we do now?” you ask, regretting it almost immediately when his anger turns towards you. you had wished, foolishly so, that he may forget this revenge-fueled nonsense and let you go home.

“i do not know, stupid girl. why do you not think of something instead of having me do everything for you?” you pray that no servants were listening in through the door, and no knights were making their patrol past the hallway. with how loud he’s speaking, there would be no hiding his ill intentions. “i thank the gods you were born a woman and i can marry you off. with how useless you are, there would be no helping my kingdom with you as a ruler.”

the words sting, your heart aches at the cold insult he’s thrown at you, but it’s not the first time he’s said something like this. it’s at the tip of your tongue to tell him that this wasn’t even your plan, that you didn’t want to betray this kingdom in the first place, that you’re tired of being his pawn in a game only he wants to play. you want to tell him that you would be a better ruler than he is if given the chance, that you almost hope for the day that he keels over and dies because you would be free of him. but you’ve learned to hold your tongue in times like this, knowing that he only says these things out of frustration; flashes of the kind man he used to be when you were younger play through your mind, calming you down as you scramble for some kind of answer.

“i will go after the younger one,” you start, a half-baked plan forming in your head. “if king stephen and christopher are out of the way, he is next in line for the throne, is he not? we just have a couple more people to get out of the way. befriend the king, distract him and make him trust you. i will handle the prince.”

you disappointed yourself by expecting some kind of verbal affirmation, some kind of praise for doing something right, but all you get from your father is a curt nod and a gesture to leave his chambers.

a nod was better than nothing. a nod was silent assurance that you were doing something right, that he was wrong about you. that you could think for yourself.

when you enter the hallway, you catch a glimpse of the servant from earlier peeking around the corridor. you smile at him, hoping that he had heard nothing and that your face didn’t betray the whirlwind of emotions clouding around in your head. he simply smiles back, foxy eyes crinkling and he nods at you before disappearing.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

dinner was an incredibly awkward affair; all throughout the meal, you couldn’t avoid meeting eyes with felix from where he was sitting across from you, and you flushed and looked away every time. his eyes were striking, soft browns highlighted with specks of gold reflected from the candlelight. this was the boy you were supposed to woo and manipulate, and you couldn’t even meet his eyes. gods help you.

you weren’t sure if your hosts could sense the concealed hostility in your father’s voice, but you could. he was doing a poor job of hiding his apathy, answering king stephen’s questions with short words or grunts. he eyed his food with judgment and took hesitant bites, even though you thought it was exceptionally made.

even the banquet hall itself was remarkable, banners of blue and gold hanging from the tall ceilings and plants of various kinds lining the walls. light shone down from the high windows, bathing the royals in front of you in a golden light.

“is the food not to your liking?” king stephen asked, a small frown gracing his features when he saw your father’s mostly full plate.

“this is amazing, like nothing i have ever tasted before,” you voiced, directing the attention to yourself. your own plate was nearly scraped clean, and you might have licked it to savor the flavors if you didn’t have your royal dignity to uphold.

your heart pounded in your chest from addressing the king so directly.

“good, i am glad,” stephen smiled warmly at you, quelling your nerves, and his smile reached his eyes in a way your father’s hadn’t for years. “i shall make sure to send your compliments to our main cook, he was worried that the meal would not suit our guests’ tastes.”

“minho worries too much,” christopher laughs, meeting eyes with his fiancée. the way he looks at her sends warmth up your spine, like you’re witnessing kindling sparkling into a burning flame. “his cooking is the best in the entire kingdom.”

it might have turned you off that he was boasting like that if it wasn’t about someone whose status was below his. a crowned prince, giving compliments like that to a palace worker? kitchen staff, at that? it was different, for sure.

the thought stuck with you for the rest of the night, even as your head hit your pillow at night. though you weren’t so naive to think that first impressions were indicative of their entire nature, it seems that the image of this royal family that your father painted for you might have been more skewed than you initially thought.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

while your father spent the next day with king stephen and their advisors, beginning the process of drafting and scrapping and rewriting peace treaties that you knew would never come to fruition, you were left to your own devices. venturing out of your chambers where you were bound to run into strangers was unsettling, but you pushed the feeling aside as you got dressed.

your father no doubt assumed you were jumping right into spending time gaining felix’ trust, but you didn’t know how to approach the younger prince to fulfill your part of the deal. you didn’t even know how to find him, or who to ask for his whereabouts; the sheltered walls of your home did not provide many opportunities for you to practice talking to people.

the people here did not seem to have the same problem. wherever you turned, visiting nobles and palace staff sent you smiles, casual how are you’s and i hope you slept well’s handed out to you like spare change. it made your head spin, and the desire to retreat back into your chambers was strong.

you found your way outside instead, through an archway made of brown stone. the fresh air often helped you think.

your casual walk allowed you to take in details that you couldn’t when you first arrived. the trees and greenery surrounding the palace were things you did not get at home, the forever winter killing off any color you longed to see. crops and livestock were held miles from the palace, outside of the reach of your vision and the invisible leash your father had kept you on, but here they thrived under the midday sun. you had a horse that you called your own, but you were only allowed to use him to travel to nearby towns on the outskirts of the palace property, right outside of the strong walls that surrounded it. none of the villagers there spoke to you past cold formalities, no matter how hard you tried, so eventually you gave up, settling for spending your time inside the castle.

here you found that you simply had to step outside of the palace walls to feel the soft grass beneath your feet, to smell the earth under your nose, to drink in the vibrant pinks and purples of the flowers in the gardens. there were so many trees, tall and strong with no walls blocking your vision of the soft foliage. you found a quiet bench under a tree, leaves and twigs decorating it’s surface from disuse, and you decided to call it your own despite having no ownership of any part of these grounds.

no ownership yet, if your father had anything to do about it.

you sat there for hours, drinking in the scenery as the sun made it’s path across the clear sky. you had expected boredom to creep around the edges of your mind, but it never came. the tranquility was so addictive that you found yourself back there, on that same bench, the next morning. and the next, your feet carrying you there before you were even fully awake.

“penny for your thoughts?” a deep voice disrupts your peace on that third day as a slender body sits on the bench next to you, just close enough that the warmth of his body touches your skin. you’re equal parts relieved and distressed when you see that it’s felix, and you smile at him in greeting, hoping that it didn’t come out as a grimace. this time when you meet his eyes, you make an effort to not look away.

“i do not get to see things such as this at home,” you wave your hand towards the garden, towards the birds chirping and the gentle sound of a stream bubbling. “it is beautiful. serene, you know?”

you don’t know how to act around him, and you certainly didn’t expect him to approach you. your words came out awkward, sounding unpracticed and superficial, and you try and hold back a flush from taking over your face. you hoped it wasn’t outstandingly clear how uncomfortable you were in his presence. do better than that, your father’s voice rings in your head.

“i agree,” he turns away from you, drinking in the picture-perfect view in front of you. “i am very lucky to call this place my home. what is yours like?”

“gray,” you deadpan, and the responding laugh he grants you makes your heart skip. better.

“there must be something beautiful there, it cannot just be you, right?” he says, a playful smirk tugging his lips upwards.

“flattery will get you nowhere, my prince,” you shoot back, enjoying the moment of quick banter between the two of you before your words turned sober. “when my mother was alive, she would paint the hallways and the walls of our chambers with beautiful flowers and vines and clouds. the flowers were my favorite part, she painted them in such beautiful shades of purples and yellows. most of them have been painted over, but the ones in my chambers remain. those are my favorite part of the castle, the most beautiful things i have ever seen.”

“i would love to see it one day,” he says, adamant and genuine as he takes your hand in his to squeeze it once before letting it go.

“maybe you could visit?” you look up at him through your lashes, a fake gesture to toy with him that left you feeling staticky and wrong. it was a complete lie - you would never subject this beautiful boy to the somberness of your home, lest it dull his brightness. even though he might not have a home soon, you push away the thought.

“only if it means i can see more of you, and not having you hide away,” he says, pointedly, though his face shows no malice.

“it is overwhelming, for me,” you explain, embarrassed at having been caught. “to be surrounded by strangers.”

“yes,” his eyes are far away for a moment, his head deep in thought. “i understand.”

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

the next morning you had only just left your chambers, planning for another day exploring the greenery around the palace, when you spot felix leaning against the wall opposite of the door. he approaches you with a warm smile and takes your hand, his skin soft under your fingertips. how long had he been waiting there for you?

“my lady,” he bows his head, bringing the back of your hand to his lips to press a kiss there, as he had done when you first arrived. “would you care for a walk around the palace? it would be my honor to be your escort for the day.”

“if you ask so nicely,” you smile back, humor seeping into your voice naturally. “how can i refuse?”

“excellent,” his smile widens and he holds an arm out for you to take. “i’ll take you to meet my friends! that way, you will have friends here, too, instead of strangers.”

his friends, you thought, would be nobles and lords and other members of high class that you would have to make fake pleasantries with. while his gesture was sweet, you had no interest making relations with the elite members of this court, the ones whose lives you were planning on upending. the last thing you expected was for him to take you straight to the kitchens, down winding hallways and corridors, marked by the ever increasing aroma of delicious baked goods and mouthwatering herbs.

“minho!” felix exclaims, bouncing on his heels excitedly, catching the attention of a man who was frowning deeply at a pot bubbling over a fire. “this is y/n, i am taking her around the castle today. y/n, this is minho, the king of our kitchens, and a dear friend of mine.”

the way he introduced you, so casually, was perplexing; no one had ever spoken your name without princess or lady preceding it. even more so was his casual use of king when talking about someone of lower class, a term that should be solely reserved for his father.

“hello, my lady,” minho looks up, his lips turning up into a graceful smile, slightly crooked teeth peeking through his lips. his hair curls around his ears a bit, dainty jewelry adorning his lobes, and his features look almost sculpted in perfection. he’s absolutely beautiful.

“is everyone in your kingdom this pretty?” you blurt out, forgetting yourself, and minho barks into laughter. felix’s hand moves to lay on your arm, right at the crook of your elbow, and if it wasn’t for the amused smile on his face you may have thought you upset him.

“you are one to talk, my lady,” minho says, delight on his face that quickly morphs into exasperation as the pot he was monitoring earlier begins to bubble over.

“careful, min,” felix drawls out, his fingers curling further into your arm. almost possessively. interesting. “she is our guest, not someone for you to flirt with.”

“alright, your royal highness,” minho says distractedly, stirring vigorously. “now stop distracting me, unless you want raw meat and vegetables for dinner tonight.”

felix grins in response, shooting a wave at the cook before leading you to a door in the back of the kitchens. it follows outside to a set of fields you hadn’t laid eyes on before, a cobblestone path winding through it like a river.

“so, do you think i am pretty too?” he teases as he leads you down the path, towards a set of men - knights - sparring in the midday sun. “or is that reserved for minho?”

“well-” you laugh, startled at his boldness. “i will not lie, you certainly are beautiful. but do not let it get to your head.”

“well as you said, flattery gets you nowhere, my lady,” he laughs too, and the two of you break all composure as you lean into each other. it’s almost too easy to be casual with him, too natural to break the carefully taught formalities that were drilled into you. you thought it might be a challenge, or awkward at the minimum, to get close to the prince, but you’re finding it to be quite an enjoyable experience thus far.

as you approach the knights, sweaty and panting from the exertion of their practice, you point out two men stand out from the rest, wearing armor with the royal colors showing proudly rather than the simple silver of the other knights. they held themselves with grace, power exuding off of them almost effortlessly, and they spark your interest.

“changbin and jisung,” felix points them out. “chris’ most trusted knights, and our friends. i pray for you if you ever get into a poker match with those two, they’ll cheat you out of every coin in your purse, the rascals.”

his voice is fond as his words are teasing, a juxtaposition that fascinates you. you don’t think you can recall a time where someone has used an insult as a term of endearment as he had just done. you lock this away in the back of your mind to ponder on later as you take in the two knights in front of you. the shorter one is clearly fond of exercise, if the muscles that even his heavy armor can’t hide is any clue. his hair is as dark as a raven’s feathers, curling from sweat, and his face is kind. the one next to him is slimmer, but no less strong. his face is round, cheeks swelling from the gummy smile he’s wearing, and his eyes are so pretty.

“felix!” the more muscular one, changbin as felix had pointed out, beams at the man beside you. “care to join? your moves must be getting rusty with all the sitting around you royals do.”

felix sends a glare to changbin, no heat behind the gesture, and him and jisung laugh in response.

“i have company, you scoundrels,” felix complains, almost in a whine. “could you not just boast about my prowess on the battlefield? you had to make me look bad?”

“please, lix,” jisung teases before turning his attention to you. “he may not be the most powerful warrior, but he is quick. the most agile swordwork i have seen, probably. it is like he is dancing with his opponent.”

felix flushes, shy under the compliments of his knights, his friends.

“hyunjin and seungmin must be around here somewhere,” felix muses as he walks you down the corridor lined with knights, back inside and down a hallway you haven’t seen before. “this is where mine and chris’ chambers are. hyunjin is chris’s personal secretary, and seungmin is mine. though, i would consider him more of a menace than anything else.”

his voice is lined with fondness again, like the way he spoke about minho and changbin and jisung. it’s the same manner as how he talks about his father and his brother, his family. it was like they were all his kin, regardless of blood.

“you are on a first name basis with the staff here?” you ask after a lull of silence, curiosity winning over your hesitance. your own handmaidens did not address you by name, the women who were your closest companions since you were young girls. you had never even thought to grant them the privilege of doing so.

“we treat everyone with the same respect, regardless of status or bloodline,” he says, words sounding a little colder than usual.

“do not misunderstand,” you quickly correct, not wanting to offend him. because you want him to trust you, your mind supplies. not because you want him to like you. “i think it admirable. it is…different, to how things are in my kingdom. i am simply not used to it. i would prefer it this way, if i had the choice.”

it wasn’t a complete lie; you were searching for words that would win him your favor, but it surprised you how naturally they came to you.

“do you not?” he furrows his brow, looking at you in confusion. whatever iciness he had before had melted into befuddlement, like he genuinely didn’t understand. “have a choice, i mean.”

you don’t know how to tell him you don’t have many choices at all.

the silence takes over the both of you again, less comfortable than before, but he remains quiet as if he can sense the thoughts whirling inside of your head. it’s only when you reach the limits of the palace property that you’re thrown out of your mind, glancing at him with unspoken question.

“i thought we could take a stroll through the lower towns to end our day,” he explains, no signs of lingering animosity from your previous conversation. “it is my favorite place to go to get away from the palace once in a while.”

the lower towns, like most things in this kingdom, were not what you had expected. there were children playing in the streets, laughing and screaming while their parents watched on in exasperation. markets lined the cobblestones you walked on, selling vibrant fabrics and jewelry, freshly baked goods and crisp produce, and a variety of trinkets that overwhelmed you in the best way, patrons were striking bargains for products on every corner, trading goods for coin, a smile on each face you encountered.

it was a good distinction from the towns you were used to, where knights patrolled to ensure nothing was amiss. people there lived in fear, not in joy. everywhere you turned, people smiled at the prince beside you, and he would wave back or offer a small nod, ever polite. the few times you had managed to sneak into the lower towns to buy paints and canvas or trinkets as gifts for your handmaidens, you had gone in a thick cloak that covered your face lest you be recognized. here, walking around in your day dress, you felt almost naked.

a child runs up to felix and wraps his small arms around his legs, bouncing excitedly on his heels.

“prince lixie!” he squeals, and felix leans down to ruffle his hair, a large smile on his face. it might be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. “is that a princess?”

it takes you a moment to realize that the child is asking about you. you don’t interact with children much, your father would never allow them to touch you like the boy is with felix.

“yes, she is,” felix whispers, like he’s sharing a secret. “a very beautiful princess. why don’t you say hello?”

“hello,” the boy turns shy, peeking his head out from behind felix’ leg. the child, you found, could be forgiven for his lack of decorum when addressing you. he had a lot to learn at his young age. “i am joshua.”

“hi, little one,” you say, a little awkward as felix’ eyes are trained on you. “i am y/n.”

you were at loss for words, but the few words you managed to give had the boy practically beaming at you in response. you watch as felix tells him to return to his friends, because you and him were on official palace business, and the boy nods sagely before scampering off.

“sorry about him,” he says once lucas is out of sight. “i have been visiting him in the village since he was very little. i have taken a liking to him, naughty as he is. he is the son of one of the merchants here, and he lost his mother years ago. i see myself in him.”

“he is precious,” you take his arm again as he continues down the path. “i always wanted to visit the children in the orphanages at home, but i-” you cut yourself off, a habit you’ve taken to since arriving here. i need to learn to think before speaking. “i have not gotten the chance.”

“the children here are lovely,” he says. “i like learning from them. they keep me humble, remind me that not everyone is born with such privilege.”

he says it so simply, as if it’s his right to question such things; a man born into royalty surely has no business spending time with lower-class children, learning from them. it is one thing to offer them a coin, something that the kingdom could clearly spare. but what could they possibly teach him that his well-respected tutors could not?

you didn’t bring it up, afraid that he would react the same way he had earlier, when you questioned his informality with his staff. afraid that maybe, he would react in anger, though you couldn’t quite imagine the perfect lines of his face twisted into anything but peace.

before the two of you leave, he stops at one of the many stands selling an array of sparking jewelry and scarves, and he asks you if you would like anything. you want to say yes, the handmade twists of metal and dyed fabrics captivating you, but you shyly shake your head.

you almost miss his forlorn expression when you refuse, turning away from the stand. it’s better this way, to not receive gifts from him. there will be nothing in your possession to remember him by, then.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

as felix drops you off at your door in the evening, the day comes crashing down on you - he’s so kind. everyone here is, from the royal family to the staff and the people living in the villages outside the gates. throughout the entire day you spent with felix, you did not once think about why you were here, simply enjoying his company and learning about him, not the secrets you were tasked with uncovering.

it’s given you a lot to think about.

as he leaves, he runs a gentle hand down your arm from your shoulder to your wrist, squeezing gently before walking away. even his strides are made in lovely, even steps that makes him look other-worldly.

you lean against the doorframe, taking a deep breath to try and settle yourself, and it’s then that a flash of movement out of the corner of your eye captures your attention.

a servant is standing just down the hallway opposite from the one felix disappeared into, the same servant who had walked you to your chambers the very first day. the first person here who had smiled at you for no reason other than to be kind.

“hello,” you call out softly, beckoning him closer to you; you don’t know who looks more nervous out of the two of you as he approaches you with uncertain steps. “what is your name?”

“jeongin, my lady,” he almost whispers, hesitant, wide eyes trained on you.

“nice to meet you, jeongin,” your lips tug upwards. he’s adorable.

“we have met before,” he blurts out, smacking his hands over his mouth. “i am sorry, i spoke out of turn. i just meant…”

he trails off, looking down shyly.

“meant what, jeongin?” you ask, sure to keep your voice light and free of demand despite the curiosity starting to burn in you. what did he mean, you’ve met before? surely, he means within the palace earlier that week, right?

“i used to live in your kingdom,” he admits, his fingers playing with them hem of his tunic. “when i was younger. my mother was a servant in your castle.”

“really?” you gasp, understanding and puzzlement taking over simultaneously.

“yes, but i left when i was still young,” he explains. “i remember you, though. you were always kind. i admired you for that.”

“thank you, jeongin,” you manage to force out, knowing that you did not deserve his kind words, even as informal as they were given. he was wrong; you were just as wicked as the rest of the nobles in your court. perhaps you were simply better at hiding it.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

your father pulls you into an empty corridor near your chambers the next day, his strength harsh enough to make you stumble over your feet.

“what have you learned,” he speaks in hushed tones, scared of being overheard. it’s more of a demand than a question, as if he simply expected you to have what he needs after such little time.

“i spent the entire day with him yesterday,” you start, choosing your words carefully, lest he discover that you’re actually enjoying yourself here. “he took me around the castle, and i have an idea of the layout, in the case that we need to make a hasty exit.”

“anything else?” he pushes, leaning further into your space.

“they are…unusually fond of their staff here,” you divulge, more reluctant to give up this information. “they might be of use.”

“good girl,” his smirk is like frost, and he reaches out to cup your cheek. a gesture that, to others, may have seemed paternal, protective. though his touch sends an unpleasant shiver up your spine, his words satisfy some sick satisfaction within you - the need for his approval was met.

“your mother would be proud.”

as he walks away, it makes you queasy how those words make you straighten up, proud. pleased. living in the echo of your mother’s footsteps for so long made you doubtful that you would ever be able to fill them, but maybe this was a start.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you see felix later, walking to the banquet hall with another boy dressed in simple clothes. they pause by the entrance, deep in conversation, and you duck behind a pillar, out of their sight. you’re just close enough to hear snippets of their conversation, when their voices raise from their hushed whispers. they must not want to be overheard, you realize, straining your ears harder. this was your chance to gather some kind useful information for your father.

you close your eyes and listen, picking up puzzle pieces of she’s sick and time off and you’ve almost completed the puzzle when it hits you - though any conversation they might have had was not meant for you to hear, this one in particular felt like a breach of privacy. not of felix’ but of the boy standing before him.

his secretary, seungmin, that he had spoken about the previous day. the boy who, as you had just learned, had a sick mother, and was requesting some time away to care for her. as you peek around the pillar, you see felix rest a hand on his shoulder, leaning close to the boy before pulling him in for a gentle hug.

he’s friends with his staff, and he touches them so casually? this didn’t fit. it fit nothing of the way you were brought up, formality and proprietary trained into you, and it fit nothing of the picture your father had painted of the royals that ruled over this kingdom. it seems that with every observation, instead of answers you were left with more and more questions.

“what are you doing?” a voice sounds from behind you, too close, and you nearly jump.

“what?” you breathe out, turning to see jeongin standing behind you, eyes wide.

“you were just standing there with your eyes closed,” he explains. “is everything okay?”

“my lady,” you correct, the words leaving your mouth as if it had a mind of its own. “is everything okay, my lady.”

“oh,” he says, twisting his bottom lip between his teeth. “apologies, my lady. there is no such need for formalities here, i had forgotten.”

“it is alright,” you assure, watching as he relaxes and lets out a breath.

“just, a word of advice?” he says, continuing before you could tell him that no, you didn’t want nor need his advice. “if you are going to be here for some time, you should try and adapt. not to overstep, my lady, you just might find yourself more comfortable if you relax a bit.”

he walks away with a smile, and you’re left alone to reflect on his words. he did overstep, but it does not mean he didn’t give you something useful. adapt, he had said, and perhaps he had a point. felix seemed to be more open with you when you were agreeable, when you didn’t question his strange impropriety.

maybe becoming one of them, even through a facade, was the key to unlocking whatever you needed to find.

he arrives at your door as the sun was setting, light knocks accompanied by a call of your name that you almost couldn’t hear. you call out softly for him to enter, a delighted smile taking over your face when you see what he has grasped in his hand, held out in offering.

a beautiful bouquet of flowers, wrapped in creamy tulle. the petals were a vibrant purple, highlighted by sharp yellows and soft whites towards their center. they were violas, your mother’s favorite flower.

you hadn’t seen one since she had passed. your father had forbade anyone from growing them on his lands.

“how did you know?” you gasp, smiling at him brightly as you take them from him. you move them closer to your face, and if you were alone you might bury your face into them, savoring their powdery sweet smell. “that these were my favorite flower?”

“you told me,” he says, ears turning pink under your attention. “that your mother painted your room in purple flowers. i just guessed, but from your reaction i hope i got it right?”

how had he remembered such a small detail that you had given him, when you knew little to nothing about him?

“oh, felix, they’re perfect. you remembered such a small thing?”

“there are a lot of things i wish to know about you,” he confesses.

“likewise,” you smile at him.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

smoke, creeping through the gap between the floor and the wooden door, rising in curling pillars towards you. snaking around your neck, entering your throat and your nostrils, burning your lungs to ash. you scramble for the doorknob, but the moment your fingers hit it you’re snatching your hand back - it’s icy hot, unable to touch.

there is no escape.

the windows - covered by royal blue curtains, catch fire from below, and you throw them back. you need air, something to clear out your crumbling lungs, but when you look outside the city is on fire. red-hot flames lick up the side of the palace, trees turned barren and flowers burned to a crisp.

in the center you can see felix, flames surrounding him but not touching. he’s whispering something, and you cry out that you can’t hear him. speak louder, please, you beg. help me.

“this is your fault,” he speaks, his voice right in your ear, but when you turn towards it, it’s not felix next to you. it’s your father.

his hand slides around your waist, pulling you close to him, embracing you.

“good work,” he says, proud smile on his face as the both of you watch the city fall to the flames. “i knew you could do it.”

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

since the younger prince had taken you on a tour of the castle, you’ve seen him every day. sometimes he would greet you at breakfast, disappearing afterwards only for him to show up at your door later to ask you on a walk around the grounds. other times he would be waiting for you outside your chambers when you woke up with a basket of fresh pasties baked by minho for you to enjoy together, and he would watch in delight as you savored the flavors. on rarer days, you would only see him in passing while he was between duties, but he would stop to press a kiss to the back of your hand, every time.

you played along with him, accepting his flirting and responding in turn. it came instinctively, and you often forgot that you were meant to be luring him into a false companionship, not a real one. he was alluring, smart with a fragment of recklessness, soft with sharp edges, a perfect balance of everything.

as the days passed, he would get bolder. his touches lingered for longer, the searing heat of his hand pressing on your arm, your shoulder, on the small of your back. his kisses moved from your hands to your cheeks and your temples, to the crown of your head, and it left you aching for more. he didn’t hold back his compliments, reflecting not only on how beautiful he found you but also how thought you were clever, intelligent, good-natured. you never thought those things about yourself, but something in the way he said it made you think they were true.

in the times that you weren’t with felix, you spent time with jeongin. the boy was as sweet as he looked, the the more time you spent together, the more his shyness melted away to reveal sharp wit and an even sharper tongue. you found your own walls dropping around him too, his easy companionship making it difficult to remain closed off to him. he reminded you of the home of your childhood, the one that you missed fiercely, and you were grateful to have him by your side. he kept you humble, holding you accountable for the way you acted, even though a spark of fear remained within him any time he spoke his mind in that regard. you managed to hold back your annoyance at his remarks, and soon you found that it simply faded out of reach. you became fast friends, almost too quickly, evidenced by the way he would raise his eyebrows at you when he saw you with felix, like he could see right through you.

you were lucky that your attraction to the prince was all that he could see through. the weight of your impending betrayal was like a shackle on your ankle, following you wherever you went, impossible to truly forget about. while you had yet to learn anything about the royal family that could serve as a benefit to your father, you saw your relationship with felix as a betrayal in it’s own right. if you were better, you would leave him alone - you would leave this kingdom entirely, and refuse to play any part in their downfall. but you couldn’t physically stay away.

you couldn’t stop from filing away small bits of information that might serve to be useful, either. the prince’s brother’s favorite meal, in case the opportunity to poison him came along. his father’s daily schedule, told to you by felix freely when you had asked, your fingertip running down his arm from his shoulder to his wrist. the likely areas where secrets may have been hidden, restricted to you and glossed over by felix when he would walk with you around the castle. you hated it, categorizing this information into handy little parcels that you would deliver to your father.

a welcome distraction came in the form of the very thing you should be avoiding; on a few occasions, felix had christopher and his betrothed, roseanne, accompany the two of you on whatever excursion he had planned for that day.

a simple picnic in the garden, juicy fruits picked just that morning and fresh baked bread and crumbly cheeses to snack on while the four of you talked. conversation came easy with chris and roseanne, once you broke out of the too familiar anxiety that surrounded you when with new people. felix’s warmth from where he was settled next to you, allowing you to lean into him, helped more than you wanted to tell him. chris was so similar to his brother, sharing his kindness and his humor, though his jokes were cheesier than felix’ dry sarcasm. roseanne was lovely, someone who you could see as a close friend under different circumstances.

a on a visit to the lower towns, just as lively as it was the first time you went. it was then that you officially met hyunjin and seungmin, the prince’s assistants. the way they bickered with one another, and their royal counterparts, made you laugh so hard that your stomach ached with it. even they were striking, and it left you wondering whether one’s disposition on the inside reflected their beauty on the outside.

your friendly chatter continued into mealtimes, where the kings would join you, the very few times where you would get to see king stephen at all. he bantered with his children, asking them about their days and their plans for the next ones, acted like a father instead of a king with them. it sent a pang of longing through you - your father had been like that, before. you don’t think he remembered how to be a father, anymore.

as much as you loved the prince’s company, you hated the approving nods you would get from your father whenever he saw you and felix together. the acknowledgement that you craved for just weeks ago felt near futile now - he didn’t see that instead of making the prince fall for you, the opposite was taking place. he didn’t see the genuine connection between the two of you, the way you craved for him, the way nothing else seemed to matter when he was in front of you. he didn’t care about your heart, about how it would likely break beyond compare when he he was finished here. he didn’t care about you.

the you that was falling for felix. for his compassion, for his gentle nature, for his quick wit and effortless beauty. for the way he treated those around him, for the way he spoke to you like you were more than a pawn in a cruel game of chess. it made you sick to your stomach to think about what was to come, what you hopelessly wished you could avoid. you find yourself wishing, not for the first time, that you and your father were truly here seeking peace. that you could imagine a future here without guilt gnawing at your chest.

the closer you grow to felix, the stronger the gnawing feeling in your stomach becomes. but you can’t stay away from him, even if you tried; the sparking light in his eyes drew you in and you were helpless to his magnetic pull. the way he would beckon you over with his hand, palm facing upright as if waiting to join with your own, left you no choice but to go to him. you knew you were selfish, spending time with him out of your own desires while doing nothing to warn him of what was to come and making no actions to follow through with your father’s wishes. you knew your time here, living in peace, was running short, the last dribbles of sand slipping down an hourglass.

and yet, when he finally pulled you into an empty alcove and held you close so that he could press his lips gently to yours, you let him. you responded in kind, moving together with him like some kind of dance.

when he invited you into his chambers and into his bed, you didn’t say no. even then, when he gave you all of himself, you took it.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

fire, this time contained in a ring of wooden slats, smoke curling up into the night sky. felix, by your side, you tucked into his side while the two of you claim it’s warmth for your own.

“why?” felix says, running a hand up and down your arm. you hum, snuggling further into him when a breeze makes it way to you through the trees surrounding you.

“why what?” you ask, voice syrupy sweet.

“why did you do it?” he turns towards you, the flames still visible in his eyes. he glances over your shoulder pointedly before turning back to the campfire, pulling you into him again. you look behind you, and a firestorm meets your vision. you can barely make out the outline of the beautiful palace through the inferno, but a figure stands out in the center of it. you move closer, the heat threatening to scorch your skin, to see your father strapped to stake. burning. dying.

you turn back towards felix, question dying on your lips when he’s not there. a sick feeling enters your stomach as your gaze returns to the fire, and where your father was is felix in his place.

you let out a horrid scream.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

waking up to the sight of felix, blonde hair illuminated by the morning light like a halo around his head, was something you think you could never get used to. even if you were allowed this under better circumstances, if the two of you had fallen together after meeting at a ball or a diplomatic meeting, his beauty was something that you truly could not comprehend.

you have half a mind to scold both him and yourself for breaking proprietary, for falling into bed with one another out of wedlock, as parts of two separate kingdoms that have yet to establish ties. you don’t, though; you were as much at fault as he was, and you had enjoyed it too much to ruin it for either of you. you do not acknowledge the guilt that was creeping up inside of you from your dishonesty, or the remainder of fear that lingered from your dream. looking at felix while he slept seemed like a much better way to spend your time.

he is equal parts pretty and cute when he mumbles, smacking his lips together as his eyelids flutter, holding onto the last pieces of sleep he can. when his brown eyes peek through his eyelashes and land on you, you can see the smile in his gaze.

“morning,” his deep voice rumbles, and he pulls you close to him by the waist. you land almost on top of him, his movement making you lose your balance from where you were perched on your elbow watching him, and you both let out breathless laughter at your undignified flailing. you settle against him, his chest pillowing your head while you trace senseless patterns into whatever patches of skin you can find.

you can still feel the phantom touches that he had imprinted on you the night before, as he held you more gently than anyone ever had. you can feel the silky smooth strands of his hair under your fingers, the ghost of his breath panting against your neck. you can hear the sweet sounds you pulled out of him over and over.

“penny for your thoughts?” he asks, just as he did when he met you in the gardens the very first time.

“mm,” you sound, not wanting to break the peaceful silence the two of you were basking in. “just thinking about my mother.”

“oh,” his face drops in sadness. not in pity, but in compassion. in empathy, for of all people he would understand; he lost his mother, too. “can i ask how she passed?”

a refusal is at the tip of your tongue, as it is when anyone asks about your mother, but it fizzles out when you look at him. you found yourself wanting to talk about this with him.

“she was sick,” you start, early memories of your childhood filtering into your head. “since i can remember, she was sick. it took over her body slowly, it took years for her to succumb to being bedridden. she would paint for hours and hours, back then, until she collapsed. but then, it took over her mind too. that was the worst part, her forgetting who my father was, who i was, forgetting who she was. when she passed, it was almost a relief, i could not stand to see her in that state of pain anymore. i was twelve, when it happened.”

“i am sorry,” his voice is deep, thick with sadness. “that sounds like something a child should never have to go through.”

“what about…” you trail off, not wanting to make it sound like the two of you were trading secrets like giggling children.

“she was murdered by bandits, in the lower towns, just a few years ago,” he answered your unfinished question. “she went further than she was supposed to go from the castle grounds, and she always refused to bring knights with her. my father blames himself, and i blamed him for a long time too. but it was not his fault.”

“i am sorry, too,” you place your hand on his cheek, hoping the weight of your caress would surpass the lack of words you offered him.

“as strange as it is to say, i-” he cuts off for a second, letting out a strangled laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “i am glad that you understand. it is hard telling these things to people that have not experienced that kind of pain.”

you don’t think it’s strange at all. it settles something within you, the part of you that had felt so alone for years. for all of his charms, it was this display of raw honesty that transformed what you had thought to be superficial attraction into something more, something deeper.

“i feel the same,” you close your eyes, trying to tamper the nausea that arose at those words. you’re going to take his father from him too, your back-stabbing mind informs you. and his brother, you don’t deserve his comfort.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

your father calls for you that morning, sending a note to your chambers. you only see it when you finally get out of felix’ bed and make it to your own to freshen up, a smile present on your face that you can’t help.

every step you take towards your father’s chambers feels more and more like you’re signing your death wish, and the sound of his door opening several moments after you knock on it sounds like cannon-fire in your head.

“you asked for me?” you move closer to the desk where he had sat, and from your position you could see messy piles of paper with words that had been angrily scrawled on them.

“i have asked you for many things,” he starts, voice dripping with condescension. “but it is good to see that you can manage to follow simple orders.”

his passive aggression makes your blood boil; after weeks of being treated so kindly by your hosts, your patience was wearing thin in the face of your father.

“i am trying to earn their trust fully,” you try to reason. “it is taking longer than expected.”

“and sharing a bed with him is not enough? whoring yourself out to them has not given you the opportunity to find out what you need?” his words were almost enough to make your skin catch fire. how did he possibly know what you and felix had done? “complete what i have asked of you, now. the faster we finish this, the quicker we can leave this horrid place.”

leave this place, and go back to what? an empty castle where you are disrespected, forgotten, ignored? a place with no life, no joy, no laughter? you weren’t sure what you wanted anymore, but you were certain that going back was not a favorable outcome.

“i’m not a servant that you can bark orders to,” you bit out, regretting it almost instantly when he stood up so fast that his chair fell to the floor behind him.

“watch your mouth,” he growls, stalking towards you, and you take a few steps back from him. “it seems that the only thing you’ve learned from the insolent brats here is how to be weak. how to disrespect your king, the one who has clothed you and fed you since you were born.”

your king, he said. not your father.

he grabs you by the neck and pushes you back, back, back until you’re up against the door, his grip strong enough that you knew would leave behind a ring of bruises. you wish you could deem this unfamiliar, but the sensation of feeling pain caused by his hands was not uncommon.

“i am growing tired of your excuses. you think they care about you? they would kill you in an instant if they knew what you have been hiding.” he moves closer, until his face is inches from yours and you cannot look anywhere but at him. “if you know what is good for you, you will stop this insolence and do as i say.”

when he removes his grip from you, your knees give out, and you brace yourself against the doorframe to keep from falling. he returns to his desk, not sparing you a glance as you leave his chambers and close the door behind you.

you don’t notice the frightened frame that had been standing outside the door through the tears clouding your vision.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you’re sitting at the fireplace in your chambers when you hear your door open, jeongin slipping in and closing it quietly behind him. he settles himself next to you, taking in your haggard appearance.

“your father is not here to make peace, is he?” he asks, his voice quiet and free of judgment. like he was confirming what he was already known to be true, not making an accusation.

“no,” you answer simply, too exhausted to try and lie to him. your friend. maybe the first real one you’ve ever had.

“you are helping him.” he says, letting a crumb of distress loose into his voice.

“yes.”

“you have come here under the illest of intentions, gained our trust,” he starts, calm. quiet.

“i know,” you sigh.

“you are going to hurt a lot of people.“

“i know.”

“you are going to do it, even though you do not want to.”

“i know, jeongin!” you snap, feeling guilty when he jumps a little.

“it’s just,” he’s playing with his fingers, a tell of his nerves. “i remember what it was like, at home. before, and then after. when things changed, when people became meaner. more cold, and closed off. that is why we left, and came here. don not make us go through that again.”

“i am sorry,” you whisper, a heavy, uncomfortable feeling settling in your stomach at his words. all you can offer him is an empty apology, useless as it is.

“i had hoped that you would be different. that you would stay true to who you were, or who i thought you to be.” he’s looking into the fire, not blinking as if mesmerized. as if he’s trying to dissociate from this moment in a way you wish you could. “when i saw you here, you still had it. that light, from before.”

“i do not want to do it, innie,” you choke out, echoing his words while your eyes burned. “i do not know what to do. i never wanted this, i hate it.”

“i know,” he says. “i can see it. in everything you do, your hesitation, the way you hold yourself back. but you do not understand.”

“understand what?” you’re exhausted, you don’t have it in yourself to be frustrated at him.

“that you have a choice,” he says, as if it was a simple thing. “that you can choose to end this, choose to do what you know is right.”

“i am scared,” you wobble out.

“being scared is good,” he finally breaks away from the fire, but the light in his eyes burns just as bright when he looks at you. “it makes you genuine. that is what makes you different from him. but you do not have to let that stop you.”

“i do not know how,” you whisper, voice barely carrying over to him.

“figure it out,” he says, just as quiet. “or i will do something, that you will not like. i will not let you harm my friends, no matter who you are.”

he leaves you then, slipping out of the chambers as quietly as he had come in, leaving you to your thoughts and what felt like a never ending stream of silent tears flowing from your eyes.

the next morning, you hand jeongin a note to give to hyunjin for christopher.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

the sun had been set for hours when you wrap a scarf around your neck to hind the greenish blue splotches forming around your neck and secure the buckles on your boots. you hadn’t seen felix all day, but you knew that if he asked you to spend the night with him that you wouldn’t be able to follow through with what you were about to to.

your cloak shrouds your face from anyone who might be awake as you quickly make your way through the gardens, to the bench that you often inhabited. christopher is already waiting there for you, a grim look on his face.

“why did you ask me here, my lady?” he asks, clearly confused.

“please, i need you to listen to me,” your voice is hushed, like you’re scared of anyone hearing despite the hour of day and the concealed location you had chosen.”i am going to tell you things that you will not like, but i need you to listen until the end.”

“are you alright?” he looks concerned at how desperate you sound, but you shake your head. now isn’t the time for him to worry about you.

you tell him everything. the things your father had said about his family, the plan he had concocted before even stepping foot in this kingdom, the way his demands have been increasing from your lack of progress. the way you had changed as a result of being around the people here, that you didn’t wish to play in your father’s game any longer. you watch as his face morphs from surprise to anger to betrayal and back again, a cycle of emotions that might be comical under any other circumstance.

there were many ways you could have done this; telling the king for one, but this would open the chance of him ending your life along with your father. trying again to reason with your him, making it clear that you weren’t going to comply with his demands, but you could never see him compromising his mission. there was one single thing that you had thought of that had a chance of succeeding, with your head still attached to your body.

you end your speech with a demand, simple as it is, and that’s when he shows disbelief.

“you want me to kill your father?” he asks, incredulous.

“i may have loved him once,” you admit, voice thick with emotion. “but not anymore. he is not my father anymore, he is a tyrant. there is not a single soul in the kingdoms that would benefit from him being alive.”

“how do i know i can trust you?” he raises a cool brow, indifference masking whatever he was truly feeling underneath. “what if this is part of your plot?”

“you do not have time to consider my legitimacy!” you cry out, desperate. “i have tried to delay him, to think of some way out of this. he is getting angrier by the day and i fear that he will do something without thinking, something bad, and soon.”

“why not just leave then?” he asks, as if giving you a test. for all it was worth, it was a test that you wanted to pass. “why go through all of this when you could just get out, save yourself?”

“that would not be fair to my people, to leave them with him,” your words come out more passionate than you expected them to. “they deserve better than that. and it would not be fair to you, either. you have shown me more compassion than anyone has since my mother was alive. i will not repay that kindness by leaving like a coward.”

“has he hurt you?” the question catches you off guard, as does the concern filtering through his gaze. you bite your tongue; you want to answer, tell him yes, but that tiny, frightened version of you inside stops the words from coming out. you want to pull down your scarf, show him visible proof of the way your father treats you, but your hands feel like lead. he takes your silence as a confirmation though, nodding and cursing under his breath.

“i will not kill him,” he says, and you open your mouth to beg, plead for him to listen, but he holds a hand out as he continues. “but i will keep my guard up. i will not take this lightly; my father’s life is in danger, and i will take every precaution while i gain information.”

you sigh through your nose, defeat making your body sag into the bench. this was your last chance; chris may as well have just sealed all of your fates.

“please understand,” he says, weary. “i cannot go to my father with accusations when i have no proof. i believe you, i just need evidence before i can act.”

“please, just,” you say as you stand, not wanting to ask him for another impossible task he might refuse. “do not tell felix? i cannot have him getting caught up in this. i do not want him hurt.”

“you care about him.” he states, as if he is already sure of your answer.

“more than i thought possible,” you answer, and it is the truth.

“i cannot promise you that i will keep him in the dark. he is my brother,” he frowns. “we do not keep secrets from one another.”

“please,” it’s all you can say before you walk away, pulling your hood back over your face. you can only hope that he will listen to your plea. if not for your sake, but for felix’.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you should go to your own chambers, should stay away from felix until things were figured out, done and over. but your feet take you to his door instead of your own, and you’re inside his chambers before you can second-guess your stupid decision. you can tell he’s awake by his breathing, irregular and short, and it both pains and excites you that you are allowed to know things about him in that capacity.

“hi,” you keep your voice low, almost a purr as you climb into the bed and throw an arm around his curled up form. his nose scrunches and he wriggles a little bit, almost dislodging you, but you keep your grip strong. you don’t know when you will get this again.

“you smell like outside,” he complains, his body going lax. “where were you? i missed you.”

“just checking on some things,” you mumble into his skin, your lips finding home on the back of his neck. “i am all yours now.”

“do you not have people to check on things for you?” he asks, opening his eyes finally and turning his head towards you. you’re glad for the lack of light that keeps him from really seeing you. seeing the stress pinching your brows together, and the guilty frown that you can’t get rid of. “i have told you, my staff are there at your disposal. for whatever you need.”

“why trust others to do things i can do myself?” you quip back, the guilt of not telling him eating at you. you bury your face into his neck, hiding yourself, and the hand he tangles into your hair soothes you a bit. you feel tears welling up against your will and you let a shaky breath out into his honeyed skin.

“are you alright?” he tries to move your head up to look at you, but you refuse, shaking your head.

“i just really care about you, you know that right?” you admit, the last words you spoke to chris echoing in your head. “i didn’t expect to ever care about someone this much.”

“i care about you too,” confusion laces his words, and he runs a hand up and down your back. “are you sure you are alright?”

“i will be.”

so will he. you would make sure of it, somehow.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

felix is out of bed by the time you awaken the next morning, but it isn’t something unusual to wake up to cold sheets next to you. he is a prince, after all, and he can’t spend all hours of his day with you. if anything it’s better that he’s gone today; it will help you keep the distance that you failed to keep the night before.

you’re slow as you dress, the decision you made before you succumbed to sleep weighing heavily on your shoulders; you were going to speak to your father, for a final time. you were not going to give him a choice, you were going to rob him of the basic right that you he so often deprived you of. you were going to make him listen to you, for once.

but when you enter his chambers, he is absent from them. you try and dampen the dread creeping up your throat; surely, he wouldn’t act now? only a couple of days after you last spoke?

you approach his desk, looking for any sort of clue that might lead to his whereabouts, but what you find is worse than you’d imagined. pages upon pages of plans, detailed imagery of how he wanted to kill the king and his sons, how he wanted to enslave the people here, how he would take the resources here and let the land rot and decay, all scribbled down in near nonsensical sentences.

stupid man, leaving these out for anyone to see. you swipe them off the table, folding them neatly and tucking them into the bodice of your dress where no one would find them, just as your father enters the chambers. your hand flies to your chest, covering up what you had just done, but your father must think it an act of surprise from his lack of acknowledgement.

“what are you doing here?” he asks, eyes narrowed on you. you hold your head up even when you want to cower before him.

“the crowned prince knows of your betrayal,” you inform, watching as his eyes filled with anger. no fear, as you had expected.

“how,” he growls, making quick steps towards you and taking both of your arms in a harsh grip. his rings dig into your flesh,

“i told him,” you say, surprised when the words come out clean and leveled and your head stays up high. “i will not help you any longer. the king will know soon, and you will be thrown in prison.”

it was an empty threat; you knew the king was still unaware of what was going on.

“you would trade me for these people you barely know? the same people who killed your moth- your grandfather?” and it clicks into place. he made a mistake, he misspoke, and it showed the last of his cards that he had kept so carefully hidden from you. it’s clear now: he’s gone mad, searching for some kind of revenge, even if it is on the wrong people. he’s locked himself into some grief-fueled conspiracy, and you realize now that he’s truly lost to you. that he had been lost, for years now.

“you are not fit to rule over anything,” you snarl. “you are not fit to be a father, you are not fit to do anything more than sit here and place blame on everyone but yourself!”

he doesn’t react for several moments, searching your face for something, before letting out a bark of laughter, eyes wild.

“you ungrateful, insolent, stupid girl,” he shakes you with every word, and your teeth rattle. “you think you can threaten me?”

he raises a hand and the back of it strikes you across the cheek, metal catching on the delicate bone there. you fall to the ground, the force of it knocking you off balance, and when you raise a shaking hand to your burning skin it comes back flecked with blood.

“get out of my sight,” he spits at you, stepping around your form as if you were a mere pest before him. “this changes nothing. your threats mean nothing, but heed mine. if you ever step foot in front of me again, i will have you hanged. from now on, you are not my daughter. you are nothing.”

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

the walk to your chambers feels longer than usual despite your hurried steps, and you can’t shake the feeling that something unfortunate was going to happen, soon. what did your father mean when he said that your warning changed nothing? did he not believe you?

you don’t dwell on his clear descent to madness for long; you curse yourself for not seeing the blatant signs of it earlier, his obsession and his misplaced fury, but you know that there are more pressing issues that need your attention.

perhaps a further look at his aimless scribbling would give you some answers. either way, it was the proof you needed, the evidence chris claimed was necessary to have before approaching king stephen with your claims. you knew needed to act, and soon.

when you find felix already in your chambers, his presence is enough to qualm the hurricane raging under your skin. it comes back full force, though, when you look at him and he’s angry.

“when were you going to tell me,” he starts, voice ice cold like you’ve never heard it before. it terrified you. “that you were planning to kill my family?”

“what?” you gasp out, every nerve in your body freezing to stone. any urgency you were feeling regarding your father is wiped out, replaced with cold trepidation. chris told him.

“you came here to kill my father, to kill my brother and his love and to, to use me,” he grits out, voice trembling, and you can’t stand it.

“no, i-” you choke out, the words escaping you. you wanted to tell him everything, wanted to show him what you had found and bring the evidence to his father together, but you can’t get it out. “maybe at first, but no, not anymore-”

“not anymore?” he cries out, incredulous. “how can i trust anything you say to me? you’ve been lying to me since you got here, lying about everything, lying about caring for me-”

“no, felix, i love you,” the confession rips out of you and the timing couldn’t be worse. you wanted to tell him after, when things were not in the uncertain state they were in now. you wanted to give him the confession he deserved, something worthy of the man that he was. he shakes his head at your words, crystal tears forming in his eyes.

“you do not get to say that to me,” he bites out. “i do not even know who you are, you have been lying to me from the beginning, playing with me, you do not get to say that.”

“i did not want to,” you almost wail, the feeling in your knees giving out as you fall to his feet. the emotions that you haven’t been letting yourself feel were pouring out of you. “i did not want to, but he would have killed me, or married me off to some brute to get rid of me and i had no idea what to do.”

you want to shout, look at what he did to me, look at the evidence of what he would do to me, but you can’t.

“stop. stop talking.” he drags you to your feet by the arm, grip harsh like he would rather do anything than be touching you right now. “get out of my chambers. i want you and your father out of my home, and if you do not leave i swear to the gods i will tell my father to have you hanged.”

you stumble towards his door, turning back to throw one last pleading glance at him, and you regret it as his next words cut you right to the core.

“they warned me about you, did you know that?” he’s no longer speaking out anger, but rather cold indifference. it’s worse, somehow. you wanted to ask who they were, but in the moment it truly didn’t matter. “they told me about your family, how vile you all are. how you would poison us from the inside. but when i laid eyes on you, i did not believe them. i know now, that i should have.”

your body remains frozen long after he leaves, and you don’t realize that your body has moved to your bed until jeongin peeks his head into the door.

“innie,” you choke out from where you’re laying over the covers. he rushes to your side, and his face falls when he sees the tears leaking from your eyes.

“what happened?” he pushes your hair out of your face with the tips of his fingers, so gentle that you can’t help but let out a sob.

“felix,” you stutter out. “he hates me- he wants me gone. and i don’t blame him, i hate me, but innie, it hurts.”

you let jeongin pull you into his arms, tears leaking into his shirt, and even then your traitorous heart wishes it was felix holding you like this. the last thing you remember before sleep clouds your mind is jeongin whispering i’m sorry into your hair.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

fire, but this time it surrounds you. not burning, but encasing you in warmth, covering your body completely. it spreads, catching onto the surfaces around you.

it’s threatening to combust, taking you with it. you didn’t know what do to. flee? protect, your mind demands. so you run, past door after door, passing by people who beckon you inside. you can’t, you need to leave.

chris, asking you to come inside. minho, calling you in for a meal, fresh and fragrant. jeongin, asking you to join him, telling you he’s worried about you.

felix, standing still as stone on his balcony. your father behind him, eyes dark as they narrow in on the prince. no.

you rush to them, gliding past felix, your flame sliding off his skin like water. you push your father away, your momentum carrying the both of you forward as the flames catch on his frame.

falling, falling, falling, off the balcony towards an endless pit of darkness. you look up and felix is watching, beautiful face twisted in anguish as he watches the two of you plummet.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you didn’t leave. despite felix’ warnings, you didn’t make any moves to flee the castle. you needed to see this through, needed to ensure that the people here were safe; the only way you would leave this palace is in the absence of your father’s company. if you were going to die, you would rather it be by stephen’s hands than by his.

you almost don’t leave your chambers, terror paralyzing you as you sit on your bed, waiting nervously for something to happen. whether it be news from christopher about his efforts or a group of knights ready to take you to the dungeons, your body itched for some action. you don’t leave for breakfast, and you don’t let jeongin in when he quietly brings you a meal and leaves it at your door. you pick at it, watching the morning sun rise into the sky and wishing you had a jug of wine to drown yourself in.

by midday, you had made up your mind; you were going to enter the king’s chambers, deliver him the information you had, and sneak away from the palace at night. where you would go, you did not know, but you knew that you were not welcome in either court anymore. you had ostracized yourself from your home and from the group of people here that you hoped to one day call your family.

you had no one. and it was your own doing.

you push away the thought as you hurry through the familiar halls, stopping at one of the only doors you had yet to enter. the king wasn’t in his chambers, you discovered, when you spent several minutes knocking on the door to no avail. the council chambers were empty as well, and you felt your heart speed up as you raced through the halls, avoiding any person you saw. your boots clicked on the stone as you hastily entered and exited chambers and hallways, searching desperately for the king, hoping he was here somewhere.

you find them in the banquet hall, a smile on stephen’s face as he signs a long document with a feathered quill. you’re not close enough to see what it is from you’re standing behind a column at the entrance to the hall, hiding your presence from them. your father moves to stand next to the king when he finishes, leaning in close as he takes the quill from him, and he raises his hand behind the king’s back. in his hand, sunlight glints off of a piece of metal in his hand - a knife,

you look around desperately for a knight to alert, but you find none. why are there no knights here? your stomach lodges itself into your throat as you stare at the two kings, frozen as your father readies the knife, poised to strike stephen right in the center of his back -

“no!” you cry, breaking away from the spot you were glued to as you run faster than thought was possible have towards them. your father turns towards your voice in shock, the knife slicing through the king’s side in a clean movement, and the king falls.

“what are you doing?” your father snarls, the man by his feet forgotten as his attention turns to you. you spare stephen a glance, meeting his wide eyes, and you hope he can see the apology in yours. your father’s forward movement moves your attention to him, and you see him stalking towards you with his knife poised. “i am growing tired of your foolishness, you wretched girl.”

“if you want to kill someone, kill me. not him,” you plead, backing away from him. “he did not kill her, you know that. this, this delusion you are living under, it needs to stop!”

“do not speak of her to me,” you can see his anger rising, redness traveling up his neck. “you are a poor excuse of a woman compared to her. you know nothing. everything i have done, i have done for her, and i will kill you and the rest of them if i need to.”

you’ve heard your father recount his killing of countless adversaries, spoken in cold tones with no regret, but to see him with his weapon raised at you is something you had never imagined in all of your days. it was a truly terrifying sight.

he backs you into the same column you had been hiding behind earlier, a mirror image of the way he had cornered you in his bedchambers days ago. his free hand circles your neck, covering the bruises that he had left behind then, and your hands fly to his wrist.

“this will never free you,” you choke out, tears brimming in your eyes that make your vision blurry. this way, when you look at him, his features are so unfocused that he almost looks like he used to, when he was sane. kind. “do you not understand? this will not bring her back. you will be truly alone.”

“better to be alone than living with you as a reminder of what i have lost,” he says softly, the sharp blade of the knife pressed to your side, stinging as it nicks your skin.

you close your eyes, resigned to your fate. this was how it was going to end, no matter what. you, suffering from the result of his hands, his jolted mind. you, a mere ghost of your mother, biding your time in this world until he decided that you had none left. living a life that would never truly be your own.

no.

your eyes fly open and meet his and he hesitates, the knife pulling back the smallest bit. you take the chance, your hand moves from one of his wrists to the other and you twist, taking in a sharp breath when he gasps and lets the knife clatter to the floor. he lets go of your neck and you drop, grabbing the handle of the knife with a shaky hand and slashing upwards, hoping that it would land somewhere.

he drops to the floor with a howl of pain, clutching at his thigh, and in the next moment you’re on top of him, pinning him to the floor with a knee to his stomach. the knife is still in your hand, unmoving from how strongly your fingers were grasped around the handle. it would be so easy to plunge it into his chest, so simple. you would finally be free.

you barely register when several knights finally barge into the hall, swords pointed at the two of you. your focus was purely on the man under you, at the madness swimming in his eyes and the ugly curl of his mouth shaped in scowl.

“you will not do it. you are weak,” he wheezes out, confident even as he struggles to speak from your weight on him.

you raise the knife.

a moment of tense silence.

and felix calls out your name. the only voice that could break you away from the trance you were in. his lovely voice, shaped in your name.

when you meet his eyes you drop the knife, and you’re pushed away from your father when by knights who move to secure him in shackles. you stand on wobbly feet, taking in the hall - felix, hovering by your side, hands raised as if he wanted to touch you but couldn’t. chris, standing by his father’s side, supporting him as he rises from the floor. blood drips down his side, but not an alarming amount. he would be fine. your own father, cursing angrily at the guards who were keeping him restrained, his words passing through you with no recognition.

you’re sure you looked horrible, in this moment. hair a mess, chest still heaving, clothes torn. you didn’t belong here. you drop your father’s papers that you kept hidden in your clothing to the ground, watching them flutter before settling, face up for all to see.

“i will leave at first light,” is the last thing you say before leaving the king, the princes, and your father behind you.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you didn’t look at your own reflection until the next morning. your face was a horrible painting of blues and blacks, and the bruises on your neck are fading into green, though you’re sure more were forming underneath them.

you look horrible.

you didn’t come with many things, and most of them were unnecessary for where you were about to go; traveling into the woods didn’t require fancy dresses and jewelry, so as you packed your bag you left them behind.

the last thing you expected was for felix to push the door to your chambers open, a noisier affair than you were used to from the way the door banged against the wall.

“you are still here,” he breathes out, panting a bit like he ran here. he eyes the bag you were holding warily.

“i am,” you answer, fear seeping into your veins as he moves closer to you. not of him, never of him, but of the power he held over you. of the way his words could break your heart into more fractures than it already was in.

“your father is in line for execution, at midday,” he informs, placing a hand on top of yours when he reaches you, his warm skin stinging the ice-cold skin of your own.

“good,” it’s the only thing you can think to say. the only reaction you can muster from learning that your father was about to die, like you had wished him to.

“chris told me what you asked him to do,” he says, voice low. “i did not stay long enough to hear the whole story, when he told me the other day. i came to you in anger, and i did not listen to you either. i am sorry.”

his voice wobbles in sorrow, and it breaks your heart.

“no, do not be,” you whisper, flipping your hand around so you could tangle your fingers with his. you wanted to feel him like this, at least one more time. “i should have been honest with you. when i chose to go against him, when i chose you, i should have told you.”

“you were scared,” he strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “of him. and of us, i presume. i cannot fault you for that.”

“i was scared, but-” you cut yourself off, trying to find the right words. he waits for you patiently, eyes trained on your features. “since my mother died, my life has not been my own. i have not been allowed to make my own decisions, i don’t know how to…do this. that is no one’s fault but my own.”

“this?” he asks, velvet soft as he seeks for clarification.

“to be honest about things. to trust people with what’s going on. to…not be scared of people’s reactions,” even this show of candor was sending your heart into a frenzied pace. “i do not know how.”

“then let me teach you,” you can hear the tears in his voice but you don’t look up to meet them. you didn’t think you could handle it. selfish. “please. i do not know what you are planning to do - after, but please do not leave.”

“felix, i have never felt more free than i have here, in this kingdom, with your people. with your family,” you squeeze your fingers around his hand, the only thing you could bring yourself to do. “with you. you have already taught me so much. how do i continue to take and take from you like this?”

“you do not owe me anything,” he vows, bowing his head a bit. “anything i give to you, i give gladly. i act without thinking and i make rash decisions, too. do not think that i am not learning from you in turn. if it were not for jeongin finding me and explaining things to me yesterday, i would have done something horrid. i could have lost you, do you understand? you and i, we are not so different.”

jeongin. once this was all over, you were going to award that boy a house. or a village. whatever he wanted.

“did he do this to you?” he says when you don’t answer, raising one hand to the bruising around your neck and another to your cheek, feather-light fingertips tracing along the lines. “did he hurt you?”

“yes,” you breathe out, admitting for the first time to someone other than yourself what kind of man your father truly is. letting yourself accept that maybe, it was not your fault. that maybe, you deserved something better.

you stayed.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

chris meets the two of you outside your chambers hours later, looking more exhausted than you’ve seen him before. he takes in your linked hands with a smile.

“felix told you?” he asks, gentle. you nod, leaning into felix. “i am sorry, that i did not do more. that it came to that.”

“do not apologize,” you say, resolute. “if anyone should be sorry, it is me. for putting you all through this.”

“if anyone needs to apologize, it is your father,” felix swears, his grip on your hand tightening. “if he was not already on his way, i would kill him myself for hurting you.”

you squeeze his hand back, hoping the gesture would bring him some comfort. violence was not a color that you think shaded felix often, but you couldn’t deny that his protectiveness was attractive.

it is chris’ duty to oversee the affair, but you cannot bring yourself to accompany him. the thought of seeing your father again, restrained and awaiting death, was not something that you wished to experience.

felix stays with you, guiding you through the halls and into his bed, holding you tight the entire time. his presence by your side is overrides the myriad of negative emotions inside of you and for once, your mind is quiet, failing to remind you that you needing felix in this moment was self-serving. it’s as if the thoughts were dying along with your last-living relative.

you wished that you felt happy, relieved to be released from him. or even sorrow, full of grief for your lost father. but you felt nothing.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

chris enters felix’ chambers at dusk, waking you and felix from the sleep that neither of you intended to fall into.

“my father wishes to see you,” he addresses to you, waiting with leveled patience as the two of you slowly rise from the bed.

“is he angry?” your voice comes out as a whisper, betraying your anxiety.

“yes, but not at you,” he assures, settling a hand on your shoulder, his touch light. “do not worry.”

but you did worry, all throughout the walk to the king’s advisory chambers to when you enter the door, startling him out of whatever hushed conversation he was engaged in with his staff. when he looks at you he is angry, and you’re glad in that moment for christopher’s warning. you moved with more confidence than you truly had, chris and felix’ presence at your sides helping more than you cared to admit.

“you wanted to see me, sire?” you ask, your hands wringing together. felix takes one of them into his own, if only to stop your movements.

“i wanted to discuss things with you,” stephen waves off his advisors, waiting for them to leave the chambers before continuing. “regarding your father.”

“my father is dead,” you state plainly, moving forward until you were in front of the king. “i swear fealty to you, my lord.”

you slowly knelt at his feet, gasping in surprise when felix knelt by your side.

“whatever i can do to prove my loyalty, i will do it,” you assured, keeping your head down. normally, you would internally bristle at the thought of kneeling before a king like this, in an act of submission, but this time it was different. this time, it was your choice.

“you have proven your loyalty by going against your own kin, my child,” his voice was thick with emotion. “please, stand.”

you don’t, until felix does and pulls you along with him. you’re confused at his immediate acceptance of you, the daughter of a man who wished him such ill-will. you look at him and you’re sure he can see the puzzlement on your face.

“i did not ask for you here to make you prove yourself,” he explains, gesturing at the papers strewn about the table. your father’s notes. “i simply wished to thank you, for preventing such heinous acts from occurring. these notes…” he pauses, as if gathering his thoughts. “are unsettling. more were found in his chambers, detailing increasingly vicious flights of fancy.”

you would learn later that in your father’s notes were his plans for you, for once his own were executed. perhaps stephen felt pity for you as a result of what he saw. when you meet eyes with the king, any trace of anger is gone, replaced with a deep kind of sadness.

“thank you, for keeping my family safe at the sake of your own welfare. anything you wish for, i will grant it.”

your mind screams at you that you don’t deserve it, that you had put them in more harm than anything, that he doesn’t owe you any kindness.

“i wish for nothing that i do not already have,” you glance at felix, shooting him a small smile when you notice the pride gleaming on his face.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

it takes less of jumping through diplomatic hoops than you would have expected to sign your kingdom over to stephen. the lands were adjacent to one another, so rearranging property lines was as simple as removing a single line from a parchment map. you learned that it was more common than you had originally thought to combine kingdoms, though usually it resulted from acts of war. you were queen for all of two days before officially resigning.

your father, for all his boasting, did not carry many alliances with other nations, and the ones he did have stephen was glad to cut off. your father’s knights did little more than grumble about having to change their colors, and the ones that refused to were promptly dismissed from service.

the castle that was once your home was a different case; you never wished to go back there, other than to gather the things that still held your mother’s touch. that place hasn’t been a home to you in a while, but you decided that it could be a home to someone.

it would take some time, but you had plans to turn the palace into an orphanage. a place where everyone and anyone could come and seek shelter, food and water, and company. it was the least you could do for your people, who had suffered under your blind eye for over a decade while you sat in your chambers, ignorant to all that was going on outside the palace walls.

the biggest relief was the weight of your kingdom off of your shoulders. maybe it was selfish to think that way, but you had never asked for that life. you knew your people were in better hands with stephen than they ever would have been with your bloodline, and you could think of no better successors than chris and roseanne.

you had your ladies in waiting brought from your old palace, but they did little more than help you dress. jeongin had become your formal assistant, but you considered him a friend and a confidant more than anything. you had offered him and his family whatever he wanted, now that the riches your father held were in your name, but he had refused. he simply asked for a new house in the lower village for his parents and siblings, but stated that he wished to remain in the castle.

you and felix decided to hold off on announcing a formal betrothal, deeming it wiser to let the kingdom that had nearly doubled in size settle first. you had not been together long, after all, and most of your time together was spent with you under a guise. you took the time to relearn each other, to memorize every miniscule detail of the other’s personality, your habits and your mannerisms and your preferences. despite your earlier reservations, propriety mattered little with the two of you; you spent even more time together than you did before, and you had all but moved into his chambers, only using yours when you wanted someplace quiet to think.

you don’t remember a time when you were happier than you were now. for the first time in your life, you looked toward the future with brightness.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #lee felix fluff #lee felix imagines #felix x reader #stray kids x y/n #skz fluff #stray kids fic #stray kids hurt/comfort #lee felix x reader #lee felix x you #lee felix x y/n #lee felix fanfic #felix imagines

2K notes · View notes

mykoreanlove · 8 months

Text

fitting room.

“Wait – you want to come inside with me?!”

Panic flooded your whole body as you realized that Felix was about to enter the fitting room with you. He smiled at you broadly: “Of course pumpkin! I want to see how you look in those clothes.”

Your boyfriend, whom you started dating a couple of weeks ago, took you out shopping on this warm summer night. You welcomed the idea as you loved spending time with him, but you dreaded the thought of him seeing you change.

“Wait… don’t you want me to come with you?”

His pained expression tore your heart apart. Of course, you wanted to be with him. If it was up to you, you would spend every minute of your day with him. This dark-haired personification of sunshine stole your heart the minute he smiled at you.

But you were hesitant at the idea of him coming with you into the monstrous invention that were fitting rooms. Those small spaces always made you feel insecure and ugly. The bright lightning highlighted all the parts of your body that you wanted to hide so badly. You had no intention of taking him with you in there.

Felix noticed the war you fought internally, so he grabbed your hands and squeezed them, hoping to distract your inner monologue. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

His eyes held so much compassion for you, he was dearly worried about your well-being. Realizing how much he cared for you made you beyond happy. You took a deep breath before confessing your insecurities to him. “I don’t want you to see me change…”, you mumbled silently.

Felix frowned as he did not understand your discomfort. “But why? It’s nothing I haven’t already seen, pumpkin.” He smiled again, hoping you would make it make sense to him.

You huffed out in despair: “Lix, those fitting rooms are every woman’s worst nightmare. They are super narrow so of course you naturally feel like a fat giant. And that hospital lightning – I mean you will see every lump, every dimple and all of my stretch marks. I don’t want you to see my flaws.”

Felix had wondered why you would always turn off the lights when you got intimate with him, but he never dared to ask. He fought his own self love battles a long time ago, but the memory of the shame that came with it was still fresh in his mind.

He never wanted to rush you, but he just did. Guilt was flooding his body as he saw what his careless remarks did to you. Felix squeezed your delicate hands again and apologized.

“Pumpkin, I am sorry. I had no idea you felt that way about your body. Just so you know I don’t agree with you, but I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want. Go ahead and change, I’ll wait over there with the other boyfriends.”

He was about to turn around when you stopped him. “Lix, wait!” Felix turned around and looked at you guessingly. You had never been with someone like Felix before – someone that understood you and let you breathe. You were used to guys that criticized or ridiculed you for your body, so you never had the courage to open up to them.

But not with Felix – it was as if he grasped your every concern with his whole being. You felt safe with him, so you tried to show him more of your vulnerable side. You grabbed him by his hand and ushered him into the next dressing room.

It was just as you had dreaded – narrow, brightly lit and full of mirrors positioned on every side. You watched yourself mortified before your gaze landed on Felix.

Felix, who was looking at you as if you put the stars in the night sky. Felix, who hugged you from behind and whispered into your ear: “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, pumpkin. Because you’re marvelous.” He placed a sweet kiss on your cheek. His love gave you the courage to undress in front of him.

And now you were standing in this small space, exposed in nothing but your underwear, displaying all of your flaws to your godlike built boyfriend. Your bravery ended at stripping down though; you couldn’t face him right now. You felt Felix’ hands caressing your hips and crossing in front of your stomach as his soft lips found your ear. “Now tell me, baby, where exactly are all those flaws you mentioned?” You felt your cheeks fill with heat as you sensed his hot breath on you. “Well for starters, you’re holding one of my flaws right now.”

This was killing you. Your insecurities were eating you from the inside. You already started imagining the worst he could say. “You’re right, y/n. Your stomach is horrific. Why won’t you lose some weight? It’s not that hard.”, followed by him looking at you disgusted and leaving the fitting room.

Felix’ snort let you come back to reality.

“You think this”, he was applying pressure on your stomach as he was talking, “you think this is a flaw?” You nodded your head in agreement. “Oh pumpkin, you little fool.”

Felix turned you around and got down on his knees. Looking up at you he flashed you a warm smile before pampering your stomach with sweet kisses. His actions made you laugh, so you ushered him to stop. “Lix, what the hell, stop.”, you giggled in front of him. He had a devilish smirk on his lips as he looked up at you again.

“I love your stomach, y/n. I love how it holds all of your organs for you. I love how it lets you eat and digest and breathe in deeply. I love how it looks. I love your little navel. I love to kiss it. I love to lay my head on it. I love feeling it rise with every breath. I really, really love your stomach, pumpkin.”

Tears started to form in the brink of your eyes. No one had ever adored your stomach like that, not even yourself.

“What else?”, he whispered. You took a deep breath before pointing out the stretch marks on your hips. “I hate them.”

Felix’s hands landed on your hips again. He was tracing the outlines of your stretch marks, touching the skin cautiously. “Maybe I shouldn’t call you pumpkin anymore.”

Panic arose in your body once more. You knew it. You were disgusting. Of course, he wouldn’t want to be with someone like you. The tone of his voice getting more playful with every touch: “Maybe I should call you tiger instead. Look at the swings of those lines, they are impeccable!”

You felt like an idiot. Here you were being worshipped by your perfect boyfriend, yet you played out one worst case scenario after the other. You looked down at Felix as you grabbed his dark hair, pulling at it lightly. His eyes sparkled with desire for you, they always did. “Where else, baby?”

With a heavy heart you turned around. You grabbed your ass and squeezed it lightly for him to examine. “Do you see all this cellulite?” Due to the many mirrors in the stall, you were able to see Felix’ expression firsthand. His eyes wide from excitement, his tongue licking his lips and hands ready to grab your ass, as well.

“Babe, all I see is your fantastic bubble butt. Do you really think I care about cellulite?” He squeezed your butt eagerly which caught you by surprise. You squeaked and jumped up, only to land in his arms again. He joined in on your laughter and held you close.

“Y/N, I think you’re beautiful. Like all of you is beautiful. I understand that it’s hard to see your body go through changes as you get older but that’s not a bad thing. Baby, you get to get older, not everyone does.” You shared an intimate look with each other in the mirror in front of you.

„Why don’t you think of age as levels? With each passing year you get up one level in the game of life. And getting dimples or stretch marks means you get to wear a new armor. Isn’t that exciting?”

You loved the way he saw life. You knew that his mindset was built on many hours of struggle and hard work, which made you love him even more. You still looked at him in the mirror, but this time you smiled. A whole genuine smile, one that reached your eyes, as well. Felix smiled back at you before ushering you to move your head. “Gimme a kiss, pumpkin.”

You two kissed, tenderly and sweet, while being embraced in the small confines of the dressing room. “Now, will you put on the clothes we’ve picked out for you? I wanna get out of here and show you how much I adore your body in private.” He smirked one last time before kissing you again.

2K notes · View notes

jilixthinker · 2 months

Text

mr. gorgeous

=͟͟͞♡ felix × fem!reader

=͟͟͞♡ runway felix

word count: 1.1K

content warning: explicit sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, deepthroating, balls slapping (just once)

a/c: i wrote this in 45 minutes and i honestly don't have much to add except that this is what i want to do to him for the rest of my life

=͟͟͞♡ please, consider reblogging if you like my works!

"Please. Please, m-more."

Felix is panting heavily, perfect face flushed with a thin layer of sweat and lipgloss impercettibely smudged on the corner of his lips.

You couldn't even wait to the end of the evening for this, your legs rubbing viciously to ease the tension of seeing Felix, the Felix, walking the runway. And that's why you pulled him with you to the bathroom, not even giving him the chance to repost every single sponsor on his instgram page.

And here you are, tongue lolling out of your mouth, kneeling on the most fancy restroom you will ever have the chance to see in your entire life, easing Felix's pink and chubby cock into the heath of your throat.

Felix is still completely dressed up, gorgeous silver pants hugging his perfect slim legs and white shirt just a litte too tight for the deep breaths he is taking. He brings his hands to the back of you head and you can feel the fluffy sleeves caressing the frame of your face.

"You were so fucking sexy, my angel." you whisper on his groin as you bite a little red mark on the sensitive skin near his base. The sweet scent of body lotion and sweat tangled up in his thick pubic hair is making your head spin.

"Love, baby– ah, fuck. We have n-no time." he moans painfully, slender back arched deliciously against the door of the bathroom you sneaked in. "C-cannot make a mess in these."

Your legs are hurting in this position, your short dress not giving you any help in easing the sting of being on your knees. But you love it nonetheless. You feel like worshipping him, and being like this is the only way you can show him how much you love him, how much you want him.

"Better be quick and clean, then." you mutter as you take Felix's hands and bring them to your hair in a makeshift ponytail. "Wanna feel you all deep, angel, don't hold back."

You lower you face, sniffing at the freckled skin and mouthing at his shaft before grabbing the base of his cock with two of your fingers. Felix hisses your name in a raspy tone, and you cup his balls with your other hand.

When you suckle on the tip you can feel Felix's thigh muscles contracting, and a generous dribble of precum gushes out of his slit to coat your tongue. You take the hint and you allow the whole head in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and slurping the warm liquid down your throat.

"You taste amazing. Been pent up as soon as I saw you coming in." you admit, rolling one humid ball in your hand and nosing it before you can suck that in your mouth as well. Felix keens and his head bumps against the door.

"Do you know how hard I had to press my legs together to avoid wetting the fucking chair, my love? Thinking about you coming down my throat and giving me all of your cum until it spills out of my mouth?" you say warmly, taking his cock in a firm fist and letting the red tip hit twice your cheek.

Felix gulps and you think you want to suck his neck as well. But you can't now. That is for later.

You force your tongue out of your mouth and you present it to him, keeping it still and firm.

"Oh f-fuck. Can I? C-can I really?" he asks with his eyes glassy.

You nod accommodatingly, sticking out your tongue as much as you can and feeling your pussy throb and pulsing around nothing. You would give anything in the world to slam Felix down and ease his cock into you, but this is not the time. Now it's for him.

Felix gulps again and gives you a few taps on the hand holding him, letting it fall neatly on your thighs. He looks at you in the eye and curses softly at the view. "Thank you." he pants out, teeth biting the fat of his bottom lip.

And then he grips his length and he slaps his cockhead against your tongue. He does it once, twice. A spurt of white liquid shoots out of him and he uses his engorged tip to spread it on your lips. You moan at the sticky sensation and another gush of slick coats your panties.

He slaps his cock on your wet muscle a few more times before his hips buck forward and you curl your fingers around the base of his length once again. Felix lets out a shuddering breath, and with a quick movement you sink your head down to engulf the entirety of him.

"Baby, please. Please, I am almost there." he whispers as you go back to suckle on his tip and you use your hand to pump the rest.

"Wanna shoot in my mouth, angel? Make me drink your cum as it was a fucking cocktail?" you ask, continuing to bob your head and swirl your tongue around the underside of his heavy cock up to the head.

"Y-yes," he slurs out. "Wanna fill your stomach, please baby. P-please let me."

You smile around his girth and you take him down your throat once again, letting it reach the back as deep as you can and forcing yourself to swallow. Felix hips jolt and you relax yourself to accomodate his entire lenght inside of your mouth, your hand coming back to cup his humid balls and give them a gentle smack.

It takes just a few minutes of you gurgling around Felix's cock for him to start blabbering nosense, and as you feel him hitting the back of your throat with a decise thrust, you swallow again, choking his lenght with a tight heat.

"Oh, fuck, baby, that's it– G-gonna cum." he manages to whisper as his hot white cum starts to shoot in your mouth and leak down your throat. You keep hollowing your cheeks and milk him by squeezing his balls until you feel the last drop of his seed gushing out of his slit.

"Oh my God." he moans, back hitting the door for one last time and cock beginning to soften in your mouth.

You give him one last kitten lick to clean him up and then you tuck him back inside his shiny expensive pants.

"You don't even know what I am gonna do to you when we'll be back home, Mr. Gorgeous".

505 notes · View notes

skzdarlings · 2 months

Text

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

497 notes · View notes

straykeedz · 5 months

Note

When kinktober is over could you do felix x virgin reader if you haven't already? That would be amazing💜

-🏐

felix x virgin!reader for you sweet anon! hope you like it ♡

tw: female anatomy; fingering (f receiving); handjob; nipple play; protected piv sex; loss of virginity; clit play; hints at blood but nothing graphic; ♡

smut, minors dni. 🤨

it was meant to be a 2k words drabble… it’s 6,1k words 🤐

❄️

“This...” Felix starts, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he uses a stick to draw a perfect heart around the two standing figures he just made, “is us.”

A big, bright happy smile spreads on his face as he points at the two little snowmen standing next to each other, holding hands - well, holding branches, technically. Felix looks so happy and proud of his creation - two little snowmen who look like very much like you and him. However, something is missing.

“They’re cute, but...” you trail, before dipping one finger in one snowman’s face to give it two little eyes and then a wide smile. Then, you repeat the same action also on the other snowman. “Now they’re happy too, just like us. Together and happy.”

Felix nearly melts at that because it’s true, you are happy - he’s the happiest with you. He pouts and sniffles, although he’s just playing with you, he’s not actually tearing up. “Sweetheart...”, he whines, intertwining his cold fingers with yours, before pulling you closer. “This is so us - happy and in love with each other. And so cute, too!”, he squeaks, looking at the two now smiling snowmen.

It had snowed early in the morning.

It’s the first snow of the season, and the first snow you get to witness together with Felix. You love snow, and he does too, especially as Christmas time is approaching. Your first Christmas together - you don’t know it yet, but Felix already got you a present, one that is carefully hidden under his bed in a cute package. He can’t wait to give it to you, he’s sure you are going to love it.

He nuzzles his nose with yours and smiles at you. You can’t help but notice how cute he is - with his nose red and so, so cold, smiling at you so brightly it makes your heart melt. Your favorite person in the whole world is right in front of you, and you are dating him - could you be any luckier? You are the one who gets to kiss his lips, to hold him close to you, to run the pads of your fingers all over his pretty freckles - yes, you are the luckiest.

You love him - your heart starts to pick up its pace at the realization. You want to tell him so bad, but every time you try to get the words out of your mouth they’d just get stuck. You love him. You love him. It almost feels surreal, to feel a love so deep and overwhelming in the best way possible.

You abruptly pull away from him only to let out a couple of sneezes, covering your nose and mouth with your hands as you do, and Felix chuckles at how cute you are. Right after you sniffle, he lets out a chuckle and pokes your cheek with his finger, making you shiver from how cold his touch is. “Let’s get inside, I don’t want you to catch a cold.”, he says, intertwining his fingers with you.

“Wait.”, you quickly pull your phone out of your back pocket. “Let me take a picture first!”, you smile at him, before snapping a picture of the two snowmen together - it’s definitely going to be your new lockscreen.

“Wait, I’ll take one too.”, he’s quick to take his phone out of his jacket and do the exact same thing.

“You do know that I could’ve just send you the pic I took, right?”, you giggle as he types the passcode to his house. Then, he pushes the door open and motions for you to get inside like a true gentleman would, even though you’ve been dating for a few months already and there’s really no need for this kid of chivalry between the two of you anymore.

Felix’s house is warm and even though you love snow, you have to admit you like being warm better - you don’t particularly like to be shivering and trembling all the time when outside. You take off your jacket and, even though it isn’t cold inside, you shiver nonetheless from the lack of layers on your body. Felix notices.

“Oh, are you cold?” Felix pouts at you, taking off his own jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. You are about to answer him that no, you’re alright, but you shiver once again, involuntarily. “Ah, sweetheart, how about I make you a hot tea, hm?”

You nod, and he cups your face in his hands, much warmer now, before he leans in to kiss you on the lips. “It would be perfect.”, you whisper on his lips.

“Then go to my room and make yourself comfortable under the covers to keep yourself warm. I’ll be there soon with tea and some snacks, and then we can watch a movie or something. Sounds good?”

You nod once more and then hurry to his bedroom. You’ve been there before, of course, and the two of you would cuddle there most of the time anyway since Felix lives with a roommate - that way you can have all the privacy you need without risking being interrupted. Not that there’s much to interrupt anyway - you haven’t taken that step forward yet.

You and Felix have been dating for nearly six months, but haven’t had sex yet. You’d done other things, though, like foreplay and stuff like dry humping, but things never escalated, even though you literally saw each other naked. He’d had his hand in your panties and his fingers inside of you a few times already, and you’d done the same as you both took your time to learn how to pleasure each other the right way. He’d also gone down on you a couple of times and pleasured you using his lips and tongue, making your body literally shake from the intensity of the orgasm that had washed all over you.

He’s more experienced than you. It’s not that hard, being more experienced than you - considering you are a virgin. Felix knows that, and that’s why he never pressured you into anything, and only touched you when you asked him to first - however, whenever he is around you, he still treats you as if you were made of glass and he were scared to break you, and never really initiates things unless he’s one hundred percent sure you are into it too.

Felix’s bedroom smells like something sweet - you can’t really describe the scent, but it smells just like his skin. You smile as you make your way inside his bedroom, taking a look around the room - perfectly clean and tidy as always, his gaming station impeccable, with all of his action figures displayed in a certain fixed order. And then on the bed - a bed made incredibly neatly, lies the plushie you’d gifted him a couple of months before. You are kind of surprised to see it on his bed and not with his other plushies.

“Ah, I told you to get under the covers, sweetheart.” Felix’s voice makes you jolt in surprise, and you turn to look at him - a cup of tea in each hand and a bright smile plastered on his beautiful face. “Sorry I startled you.” he chuckles, “I just don’t want you to be cold or get sick.”

“You didn’t give me time!”, you giggle. “I thought it’d take a while for the tea to be ready.”

“That’s the magic of having a wired kettle, the tea’s ready in no time.”, he giggles, too, then places the two cups on his desk. “It’s still super hot, maybe we should wait a bit before drinking it.”

You nod, then sit down on his bed and take the plushie in your hands. A cat, with small ears and a fluffy tail. You smile at the memory of how happy he was when you’d gifted it to him. “Why is it on your bed and not with all your other plushies?”, you ask Felix, your eyes set on him as he, too, sits down on the bed, next to you.

“Yah, don’t be ridiculous!”, he gasps dramatically - such a drama queen. “It’s not like the other plushies, this one is special. It deserves a more special place.”, he explains, and a shy smile spreads on your face.

“Yah, stop it...” you squeak, embarrassed, as you feel your cheeks turning pink.

“It’s true, though!” Felix insists, taking the plushie from you in his own hands. “You gave it to me, it surely makes it the most special plushie I own. Cannot compete with those lame ones.”, he chuckles, pointing at his plushie collection, on a shelf above his gaming station. “I sleep with it.”

You look at him with wide eyes. “You sleep with it? Like, do you actually cuddle it?”, you ask, kind of surprised.

“Yah, of course I do! It smells like you!”, he quickly answers back, as if you just asked him the stupidest question. “When I close my eyes, it almost feels as if you’re next to me. It helps for when I miss you.”

You could honestly melt right here, right now.

You look at him, mesmerized by how freaking handsome he is - he looks like a dream. Sharp jawline and a perfectly curved nose; plump, heart-shaped lips, so soft every time he presses them against yours in a sweet kiss. Beautiful freckles all over his cheeks and nose - a perfect constellation on a perfect face. And his eyes... the most beautiful you’ve ever seen, of a deep brown color and so, so sweet. God, you’re so in love with him, and you want him to know - you want to tell him, and you want to show him.

He doesn’t know it yet, but you really think you’re finally ready to take the next step - to have sex with him for the first time. You’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and you’re sure about it. You love Felix, and you trust him with something so important to you - so, you want him to be your first. You’ve been thinking about it for a while, yes, but you never felt readier than now. Just looking at him makes your heart hammer in your chest and your head spin, and you feel the physical need to be as close as possible to him.

“Felix?”, you call his name softly, and he snaps his head in your direction immediately, lifting his gaze from the plushie he’s still holding in his hands.

“Hm?”

“Can we get under the covers and cuddle? I’m a bit cold.”

It’s only partially an excuse. Felix smiles at your cuteness, then nods, and in a matter of seconds you both find yourselves under the soft covers of his bed, as he pulls you closer to his body to keep you warm. You fist his hoodie with one hand, as he gently rubs your back over the thick material of your own hoodie, your leg thrown over his lap. Then, he kisses you on the top of your head, and you quickly snap your head up to meet his lips.

“Kiss.”, you pout.

“Want a kiss?” Felix rhetorically asks you, and chuckles when you nod, looking him in the eye.

His lips are warm against yours, and soft - they always are. He doesn’t really deepen the kiss until you delicately tap his lower lip with the tip of your tongue - only then he lets his tongue brush your lips. Your fingers let go of the fabric of his hoodie to cup his cheek as your soft kiss turns into a desperate make-out session. - tongue swirling, lip biting, heavy breathing, your chests rising and falling quickly.

It takes a ridiculously short amount of time before you can feel your wetness pool in your underwear, and Felix grows hard inside his boxers. He’s quick to let his hand reach his crotch, ready to grab his growing bulge in order to hide it from you - he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, he does it every time, thinking you won’t notice, but you always do. This time, you wrap your fingers around his wrist and stop him, and he knows you can feel how hard he is now.

“‘M sorry.”, he mutters, embarrassed, pulling away from the kiss, and you notice he’s blushing a bit.

“It’s okay.”, you quickly say, before crashing your lips on his once more.

Then, with your fingers still wrapped around his wrist, you move his hand until his soft fingers brush the hem of your leggings. You don’t miss the way his breath hitches in his throat. You two already did that, he already touched you down there with his fingers, but it’s been a while now since he last did it. You let his fingers brush the hem, before you let them slip under the waistband, and that’s when Felix abruptly pulls away, looking at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Sweetheart, are you sure?”, he asks. He wants nothing more than to pleasure you, but he also wants to make sure you really want it.

You nod, smiling at him shyly. “Yes.”, you whisper on his lips. “Touch me.”

Once more, Felix sucks in a breath - your words send a shiver down his spine, and he hopes you can’t feel the way his cock is now impossibly hard in his sweats. You can. And you can’t wait to wrap your fingers around it. You can’t wait to feel it inside of you for the first time.

Felix’s fingers brush your clothed pussy over the fabric of your panties, and it’s enough to make you shiver - meanwhile, he still places a few kisses on your lips every now and then. His fingers touch you right where your clit is, and a soft whimper leaves your mouth as he applies the littlest of pressure on your sensitive bud. You kick your head slightly back, which allows him to attach his plump lips to the soft flesh of your jawline and neck. You feel him smirk against your skin once the pads of his fingers brush the wet spot on your panties. The next thing he does, is hook his fingers on your panties, pulling them to the side to finally touch you properly. Felix’s digits brush your wet folds, and you both moan to the touch as he coats them in your hot arousal.

Felix knows how to touch a woman, he knows how to touch you. He only had his hand down your panties a handful of times, yes, but he made you cum every single time, and it was always a mind-blowing orgasm that left you panting heavily. The first time he touched you, he made you cum from stimulating your clit only. The second time, with your consent of course, he slipped one finger inside, then two, and made you cum from repeatedly brushing your g-spot. The third time, you nearly passed out, because he stimulated both your clit and your g-spot at the same time.

“Can I put a finger in, sweetheart?”, he asks you, leaving an openmouthed kiss on your neck as the pad of his middle finger brushes your folds.

“Hm-hm.”, you hum, nodding your head swiftly, impatient to feel him inside of you.

He slides the first finger painfully slow, but you gasp nonetheless. You can’t help but wonder how it’ll feel when he’ll slide his length inside of you for the first time. Oblivious of your wild, dirty thoughts and your true intentions, Felix starts to slowly pump his finger in and out of you to let you get used to the feeling.

“Another one.”, you whimper, and he has to fight a moan from escaping his throat as he easily slips another finger inside of you.

You feel hot and wet around his fingers, and you’re squeezing them so tight he almost can’t move them inside of you. Instinctively, he thrusts his hips to meet yous like a natural reflex, which allows his hard-on to brush your crotch and makes you both whimper. Felix stops moving his fingers inside of you when he feels your own fingers slip down the hem of his underwear.

“Sweetheart...” a shaky breath leaves his lips when you wrap your cold fingers around the leaking tip of his hard cock. “You do- you don’t have to.”, he whispers, looking you in the eye.

You smile at him, then peck his lips as you squeeze him, making him whimper. “I know. I want to, I love touching you.”, you say as you start to slowly pump him.

Your touch is so different from his own, Felix can’t help but notice. In a better way, naturally. You’re delicate when you squeeze him, slow with your movements as you move your hand up and down his length, gracious when you brush his leaking slit with your thumb to smear his arousal all over his cockhead. Usually, when he masturbates, he does it hard and fast, as his only goal is to cum - when you do it, though, you like to take your time with it, admiring every reaction of his, taking in the faces he makes, the way his lips part and his eyebrows furrow as he’s about to cum. He’s the first man you touched so intimately, the first man you craved to pleasure - you love to see him unravel under your touch.

It’s the same for him - he’s absolutely whipped for the way your eyes roll in the back of your skull every time you’re about to orgasm, the way your toes curl, the way you wrap your fingers around his wrist and look him in the eye as if to say please, don’t stop, not now. And he would never. He loves to feel the way you clench around his fingers as you cum for him, letting out a whimper as your chest rises and falls due to intensity of your orgasm.

As you’re about to do now, after his fingers brush your sweet spot one more time - you’re so close. Initially, you thought about asking him not to make you cum, because you wanted to do it around his cock for the first time, but then you remembered you’d read somewhere that it’s better to be as relaxed and lubricated as possible, so that the feeling will be more pleasant. That’s why you don’t try to hold back or to fight your orgasm as you feel it approaching.

Your hand, slipped under Felix’s underwear and wrapped around his thick, hard cock, stops moving as you recognize the not-too-familiar-yet-still-familiar feeling starting to build up in your lower belly, your legs already starting to shake as they do every time he makes you cum from g- spot stimulation.

“Hm, are you close, sweetheart?” Felix asks you, placing a kiss on your jaw. He doesn’t seem to mind that you stopped touching him.

You nod, already panting. “Yeah, ‘m close.”, you whine, squeezing your eyes shut.

With the right pressure on your g-spot, you cum around Felix’s digits, finally finding your release with a high-pitched whimper that makes his cock twitch. Your walls clench and pulsate around him as you coat his fingers in your orgasm. Still breathing heavily, you hide your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his cologne and the scent of his skin.

“You did so well, sweetheart.”, he kisses the side of your head as he slowly pulls his fingers out of your sensitive pussy. Normally, he’d waste no time in wrapping his lips around his own fingers to lick off your arousal from his skin, but this time he’s interrupted by you, resuming your movements on his cock, pumping him a bit quicker now.

“O-oh, love.”, it’s his turn to squeeze his eyes shut now.

You gasp at the new pet name - you already love it. You love him.

You feel him twitch in your hand and he thrusts his hips to meet your movements. “Don’t cum, not yet.”, you tell him, snapping your head up to meet his face. He opens his eyes and looks at you confused as he fights off a moan.

“Why?”, he whines, he must be close already, so you stop moving your hand completely.

Your heart starts to hammer inside your chest, and you swallow the lump in your throat. You’re about to tell him. You’re gonna tell him you’re finally ready to make love to him for the first time, that you want him to take your virginity. You’re thankful you’re lying on the bed right now, otherwise your knees would’ve give in, you’re sure.

“Felix, I...”, you take a deep breath. You’re telling him, you can do it. “I’m ready. I want you to make love to me.”

He sucks in a breath, and his eyes widen, his lips part. “Wha- are you- are you sure, sweetheart?”, he sounds sincerely panicked.

You nod quickly. You don’t want him to think you’re just saying this because of the heat of the moment, you need him to know you’re really sure about this. “I’m sure, I really am. I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and... I trust you, and I want you to be my first.”, you take another deep breath. “Felix, I lo-“

“No!” Felix nearly shouts, which startles you. “Shit- sorry, sweetheart. But you’re not doing this.”, he places a kiss on the tip of your nose. Then, he pulls out his fingers from your panties and wipes them off on his hoodie to clean them from your arousal, before he cups your face with both of his hands. Meanwhile you take your hands out of his sweats, too. “You’re not telling me that you love me before I do.”, he chuckles, seeing your panicked expression.

“But-“

“No.”, he whispers on your lips, looking you in the eye. “I love you. So much, and I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now. I was going to do it tonight.”, he nuzzles your nose with his.

Your heart is beating so fast in your chest you’re scared you’re actually gonna pass out, and tears start welling up in your eyes. “I love you.”, you finally say it back. “I love you so much, I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, too!”, you pout.

Felix kisses your pouty lips sweetly. “I love you so, so much, sweetheart.”

You kiss him back, slipping your hands under his hoodie, brushing his naked back your fingers, and he shivers at your cold touch. “I love you too.”, you kiss him on the lips once more, then gently bite his lower lip, which makes him whimper. “Now make love to me.”

Felix’s heart hammers in his chest, and it’s his turn to swallow the lump in his throat. This is a big thing - he’s gonna take your virginity. There’s no turning back from that, it’s not something that can be undone, like in video games. But you trust him, you just told him that, and you want him. And God, he wants you too.

So he nods, looking you in the eye. “Okay, sweetheart.”

Felix’s fingers grab the hem of your hoodie and he slowly lifts it together with the t-shirt you’re wearing underneath it, exposing your naked stomach. You do the rest, crossing your arms over your torso and pulling it off in one swift motion, letting it fall on the floor. Felix bites his lip once his eyes take in the sight of you wearing nothing but a lacy, see-through bra, wanting nothing more than to swirl his tongue around your hardened nipples. In one quick motion, he sits up on the mattress and takes off his hoodie, letting it fly across the room without a care in the world, which makes you giggle. You slide your leggings down your legs as he does the same with his sweats. He nearly drools once he finds out you’re wearing matching panties, which means he can clearly see the outline of your pussy. Little does he know it’s the same for you - the sight of the bulge in his boxers is turning you on like crazy.

“God, love, you’re so beautiful.” Felix compliments you, voice husky as his eyes take in your barely clothed figure, spread on his bed. He gets closer to you, lying on his side, brushing your cheek with the back of his knuckles. His touch burns on your skin - you want him so bad.

“You’re pretty handsome, too.”, you giggle, biting your lip.

He smiles as well, then leans in to kiss you on the lips. The kiss is not exactly sweet and soft like the other times - this time it’s lustful, hot, desperate, filled with anticipation of what’s about to happen. And then Felix’s lips move to the corner of your lips, then your jaw, kiss you all over your neck until they reach your collarbone, then the valley of your breasts. Without uttering a single syllable, you arch your back, giving him silent permission to unclasp your bra. He manages to do that on the third try - stupid shaky hands. He’s nervous too, how could he not be?

Sooner than later, your bra ends up on the floor as well, falling right next to your hoodie. Felix is delicate when he cups one of your breasts with one of his hands, and he’s even gentler when he wraps his lips around your nipple, wetting your sensitive nub with his saliva. You let out a choked moan when he gives it a long suck and hums against your skin. Then, you feel his hot, wet tongue swirl around it, and that’s when you run your fingers through his hair, delicately tugging at it.

“Felix...”

He whimpers, with your nipple still in his mouth, and it’s the hottest thing ever. You can’t wait to hear the sounds he’ll make once inside of you. His lips let go of your nipple, and you suck in a breath once the cold air hits your skin.

“You make me crazy. You know that, right?” Felix rhetorically asks, looking absolutely fucked out from just sucking on your tits. You find it absolutely cute and incredibly hot at the same time.

He doesn’t wait for an answer - instead, he starts to leave a series of kisses that go from the valley of your breasts to your navel, stopping only when he reaches the hem of your panties. Yes, he can definitely see the outline of your pretty pussy, especially from this angle, and it’s making his mouth salivate.

“Need to taste you, sweetheart.”, he mumbles, kissing your inner thigh, as he hooks his fingers on the side of your panties. “Need to taste this pretty pussy, it’s been so long...”

“But... I want to cum around you...”

Felix nearly has a heart attack.

“Sweetheart, you- you’re gonna be the death of me.”, he chuckles, but he’s serious.

You giggle, propping yourself on your elbows to look him in the eye. “I’m only saying the truth, though.”, you say. “I want to feel you inside of me for the first time. I’ve waited enough.”

Felix really does want to eat your pussy, but he can do it some other time. He already made you cum earlier, so he doesn’t worry whether you’re stretched out or wet enough, because he knows you already are - plus, he’s going to use lube anyway. So, he nods, and then sits on the mattress once again only to take off his underwear, sliding his boxers down his thighs, freeing his hard cock in the process. It’s thick, and it’s hard. It looks even harder than it was before, and a little bit intimidating, but you want it anyway.

“Let me grab a condom.” Felix whispers on your lips before he pecks them quickly.

Felix had bought a box of condoms and a bottle of lube when he first started going out with you, before he even knew you were a virgin. He never really mentioned, especially not after you confessed your inexperience, because he didn’t want to make you feel pressured or anything. He’d bought them just in case, he wanted to be prepared if the opportunity ever presented itself. His hands are a bit shaky as they fish a condom from the box, and then the lube. Meanwhile, you take off your panties, your heart beating fast in your chest. You’re not nervous, nor anxious - if anything, you’re thrilled.

Too lost in your thoughts, you didn’t even realize he’d already put the condom on his hard length and is now squeezing a generous amount of lube on the tip of his cock and on his fingers as well. Then, he positions himself between your spread legs, kneeling between them as he smears the thick lube all over his length - with the same fingers, he brushes your folds, using the lube to coat your entrance as well. He wipes the excess on his thigh, not really caring about the stickiness. Not when you’re right there, lying on his bed, legs spread for him as he’s about to enter you for the first time.

“Are you still sure you want to do this with me, sweetheart?”, he looks you in the eye as he asks you this question.

You nod, and smile at him. “Yah, of course I am. I love you, remember?”

Felix’s heart beats fast in his chest. He takes a deep breath, then swallows the lump in his throat, and aligns the tip of his cock with your slippery entrance. His body hovers over yours, and all of his weight is shifted on his elbow, as he uses his other hand to hold the base of his cock, not entering you yet.

“You ready, love?”, he asks you, pecking your lips once more.

“Ready.”, you take a deep breath.

And he pushes in. Delicately, thrusting only about an inch inside of you, and you try your best not to tense or clench around him as he sinks deeper in you. His hand lets go of his cock and he is now able to balance himself on his two elbows, positioned on each side of your head. He looks you in the eye as he pushes inside a little bit more, but stops abruptly when he feels you whimper and clench.

“Hurts?”, he asks, voice hoarse and deep.

You shake your head as a no, breathing through your nostrils. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just slightly uncomfortable, but nothing unbearable. You only have to get adjusted to his size. “Nope.”

“You sure?”, he furrows his eyebrows, not entirely convinced.

“It’s a bit uncomfortable, but it’s okay.”, you tell him. He looks panicked as soon as he hears yourwords. “Felix, relax. I’m good, I’m enjoying it.”, you reassure him, nuzzling your nose with his. “You’ll tell me if it gets too much, right?”

You nod. “Promise.”, you smile at him and kiss his lips.

He pushes the rest of his length inside at an excruciatingly slow pace, and the both of you let out a deep moan once he bottoms out. You try to look down to where your bodies meet, and he does the same, biting his lip when you clench around him, your walls squeezing him deliciously tight. He’s not going to last long, you feel amazing, wrapped around him like you’re made for him.

“You feel so good, love.”, he praises you, placing a soft kiss on your bare shoulder. “I love you so much.”

“You feel good inside of me.”, you return the compliment. “You feel so big, I feel so full.”, you whimper.

You chuckle when you see him widen his eyes. “Yah, don’t- don’t say things like that!”

“Why?”, you furrow your eyebrows.

Felix’s cheeks turn pink. “‘Cause I’m not gonna last long if you do.”, he admits, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

You giggle, then wrap your arms around his back, delicately scratching his skin with your fingernails. “Ah, don’t worry about that. Let’s just enjoy the moment, alright?”, you mumble, kissing the side of his head, breathing in the scent of his hair. “You’re already making me feel so good...”

But nothing compares to when he actually starts to move inside of you. A shiver runs down your body when he pulls almost all the way out, before thrusting back inside slowly, allowing you to feel every inch of his thick cock parting your folds. Your head falls back on the soft cushions and you roll your eyes back when he does it again, which makes you get goosebumps all over your skin. You quickly intertwine your fingers with his, squeezing his hand, and he stops thrusting.

“Am I hurting you?”, he asks, and you notice his breathing is already heavy.

“No- no, feels good. Move.”, you mumble, focusing on the feeling of having him inside of you. Felix chuckles, and resumes his thrusting. “You can- do it a bit faster now.”, you pant. It doesn’t feel uncomfortable anymore, now you’re relaxed enough and are completely enjoying it.

Felix moves a bit faster like you asked, but still not too fast, because he doesn’t want you to be sore later. You squeeze him incredibly tight when he brushes a spot his fingers know well, although it feels much different now that it’s his cock brushing it, it feels more intense.

“You’re so tight, oh my God.” Felix pants, cock already throbbing - he’s not going to last long, he’s so close. “I’m already close, I’m sorry.”

“I’m-“ you’re cut off by a moan “I’m close too. Could you... maybe...?”, you mumble incoherently, hoping he’d understand what you want to say.

He does, bringing two fingers to his lips before spitting on them, then placing them on your sensitive, neglected clit. He starts to rub you there, drawing circular shapes on your throbbing nub, shivering each time you let out a whine or a whimper or literally any other sound. He knows you’re close when your walls start to pulsate around him and squeeze his cock incredibly tight, making it impossible for him to move inside of you and God, he’s so close to his own release... He lifts his gaze to you, looking you in the eye as he continues to rub your clit until he feels your legs starting to shake - that’s how he knows you’re cumming.

“Felix, I’m- I’m cumming.”, you pant, digging your nails in his flesh, holding onto him for dear life as you fall apart with his cock buried deep inside of you.

You throw your head back and squeeze your eyes shut as you let the wave of pleasure was over you, and before Felix knows it - he’s releasing too, filling the condom with spurts of his seed as he lets out a deep, hoarse grunt. Surprisingly enough, he doesn’t feel bad about finishing so soon, because at least he made you cum too. Still breathing heavily, he lets his head fall in the crook of your neck, kissing your soft flesh.

“Was it good, love? It didn’t hurt too bad, did it?”

“It was perfect.”, you kissed his head, and he lifted his head to peck your lips. “You were perfect.”

He smiles at you, caressing your cheek. “You were perfect, too, my sweetheart.”

He can already feel his cock softening, so he’s quick to hold it by the base, ready to pull out. You wince slightly, realizing you’re starting to feel a bit sore between your legs. He gets up to take off the condom and get rid of it, but as he does that, he notices a couple of red spots on it, and instantly feels bad at the thought he hurt you, even if it was completely unintentionally. He ties a knot on the condom and throws it into the thrash can next to his bed.

When he comes back to bed, he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you closer, kissing your head as he caresses your naked back with one hand. Only then he realises that his heart is still beating fast in his chest - he loves you so much...

“You don’t have to go to classes tomorrow, do you?”, he murmurs, intertwining your legs with his.

You shake your head, lifting your head to look at him. “Nope. Our professors emailed us this morning. They cancelled their classes because of the blizzard.”, you try your best to fight back a yawn. Felix notices and chuckles - you’re just so cute.

“Sleep here tonight?”

❄️

——————————————————————————————-

-> reblog and consider leaving feedback if you enjoy reading my works - “it’s good for motivation” my man chris bang once said.

-> it is strictly prohibited to copy, translate or plagiarize any of my works.

985 notes · View notes