#felix fluff

In all truth, the four of you - Felix, Jisung, Seungmin and yourself - had gotten a bit drunk, just hanging out after their dance practice ended. You'd just been waiting for Felix, really, but somehow it ended up being the four of you and a couple of beers. Even Felix indulged in one, which surprised you, as that was usually not his thing. But it was all in good fun.

However, even with the light buzz of the alcohol in your system, the question left you flustered. Even though it wasn't completely out of the blue, as Seungmin and Jisung were just having a discussion about the best sex position, you still hadn't expected the question directed at you.

In one smooth motion, Felix squeezed your thigh where his hand already rested, catching your attention. He gave you a look, you don't have to answer, not wording it out loud as he knew you could make up your mind for yourself. You didn't need his input, but he still let you know he was there.

You eyed the table for a moment, cheeks hot whether from the beer or the question or both, you weren't sure. You and Felix hadn't exactly been intimate yet. Your relationship was still new, and you both agreed you'd take it slow, build up your connection more, even if you were already completely infatuated with each other.

What you hadn't let him know yet was how desperate you were to take that step further. And what you didn't know was how he felt the exact same way, but didn't tell you in case it put unnecessary pressure on you to do something you weren't ready for.

Oh, he had no idea.

You chose not to feel awkward about the question, didn't feel embarrassed about the lack of sex you'd been having. It was a choice and one you were completely fine with. "You'd have to ask Felix."

You decided to give the ball to Felix, to let him decide how much he wanted to tell his band members about your nonexistent sex lives. You took another sip of your beer, glancing over at him.

The corner of his mouth twitched up as he ran his thumb across your inner thigh. You almost spat out your beer at that, tingles spreading all throughout your body. Sometimes you weren't sure he knew what kind of effect he had on you.

Felix put his hands up in defence, his eyes dark under the dim light. "A man... doesn't kiss and tell."

He laughed at the groan Jisung let out, while Seungmin only smiled, taking another sip of his beer in quiet amusement.

Later on, when the dorm was quiet, Jisung having left and Seungmin gone to bed, you were brushing your teeth with Felix after changing into your pyjamas.

You couldn't help but eye him, still a little tipsy from the beers and admiring his features more than usual. From every day that went by, you just seemed to fall more and more in love with him.

When you both got under the covers and Felix kissed you goodnight, expecting to fall asleep, you grabbed his wrist gently to catch his attention. "Lix," you whispered, biting your lip, hesitating.

He raised an eyebrow in the darkness, his features calm and relaxed. He could sense your hesitation and turned his face fully towards you, urging you to continue by making sure you knew you had his attention.

"Yes?"

You pursed your lips, looking into his eyes while your heart raced in your chest. God, why were you even freaking out about this? It was just Felix. But still, you felt vulnerable having to say the words out loud. The couple of beers you had consumed gave you that extra confidence to speak.

"You know, I've been thinking... maybe we should take our relationship a little further..." You bit the inside of your cheek, waiting for his reaction. He looked a little confused. Even though he tried to understand you, he needed you to be a bit more specific. So you let out a small breath, somehow speaking even lower than before. "You know... more than making out."

He stilled a little, you could feel it, and it immediately made you overthink, silly as you were.

"Not because I don't enjoy just making out! I know we said we'd take it slow but... I'm just... really... horny."

He was quiet for a moment before he let out a soft, genuine laugh, leaning in to kiss your forehead affectionately. You had no idea how much your confession had made his heart clench with adoration. He didn't even know how you could say something like that and still be so cute.

He grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to him. "Hmm, are you a little drunk, baby? If so, I'd rather have this talk tomorrow. Not that I'm not listening; I certainly am." He brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Your face warmed at his response. I mean, you were a little tipsy, but this had been something that had been on your mind for a while. But even through your stubbornness you could see his point; it'd be better to bring something like this up when you were completely sober and sure.

You pursed your lips. "Yes, I'm a little tipsy... but this has been something that's been on my mind for a while, seriously! I mean, of course only if you're ready, too. To take things further." You made your voice clearer this time, making sure he understood this was more than just the beer talking.

And he did look a little more thoughtful this time, a small glint flashing in his eyes. Thinking about finally taking things further with you made his own desperation rise up and his cock twitch in his sweatpants. But he remained calm, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone.

"Alright... If you're sure you're ready, then so am I. I just don't want to pressure you," he said honestly, and before you had the chance to speak again, he continued, "But we'll still talk about this tomorrow, okay? Get some rest, angel."

He pulled you to his chest, and you definitely didn't protest. He was nice and warm and, well, the beers were making you quite sleepy. You hummed, sinking into his embrace and slowly drifted off to sleep.

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You woke up to the familiar feeling of a nose nudging against your neck and hair tickling your skin. The faint sound of Felix's soft breathing filled your ears along with the chirping of birds outside. You had the window slightly ajar these days, seeing as it was getting hotter outside. It was a peaceful atmosphere to wake up in.

You felt surprisingly refreshed, but was less surprised by it when you checked the time on your phone and saw that it was already afternoon. You'd slept for so long... but it had felt so good. And it was Felix's day off, so for once it was allowed.

You looked down at him when he moved and realised then that he was already awake, greeting you with a smile on his face, his hair showcasing how well he'd slept. At least half as well as you.

"Good morning, angel," he said, his voice a delicious raspiness that somehow made it even deeper. You'd never not enjoy waking up to that.

You smiled back, forgetting all about your phone and instead nuzzling into his warmth, counting the freckles on his face. "You're the angel here... Why didn't you wake me? It's so late now, and it's your day off!"

You didn't want to spend all day in bed with him when it was his only day off in a while... Though maybe that's what he preferred, seeing as he worked so hard these days.

He stretched out, the action making it hard for you to hold back your cuteness aggression towards him. He rubbed his eyes, rolling over to lay on his back.

"I only just woke up, right before you," he explained, reaching over to cup your hand in his as he checked his phone. He'd probably only just mustered up the energy to do so.

You lay there, just basking in the afternoon light while Felix answered some messages, quietly holding hands. After a while, he put his phone away and focused his attention on you again, resting on his side.

"Do you remember what you told me last night? Before we went to bed," he asked, waiting for you to meet his eyes.

You didn't for a moment, feeling a little sheepish now that it was morning, and you weren't as confident as you had been last night. But he somehow always found a way to make you immune to embarrassment when it came to expressing yourself.

"...Yes."

"Do you still mean it?"

You met his eyes then, still soft, still gentle as they always were. There was nothing in them that told you not to be sure of your answer, and so you were. You were sure of what you wanted.

"Yes, I still mean it."

He nodded, rubbing his chin as if lost in his own thoughts for a moment, "You're sure?"

You let out a small chuckle, your lips curling upwards at his questioning. Oh, you were definitely sure. "Yes, I'm sure, Felix. The only thing stopping me would be if you didn't want to take things further."

He nodded again, still rubbing his chin, before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Gentle, not rushed, not letting you in on what was going on in his head. Just the same sweet Felix as always.

Then he pulled away, meeting your eyes. "Then... can I go down on you?"

He looked almost relieved to utter the words, his eyes big and boba-like, and he was nearly pouting. What you hadn't known all this time was how much he'd been thinking about it; finally eating you out. Sure, having sex with you was on his mind a lot, too, but there was nothing quite as arousing as the thought of finally tasting you. He already knew you'd taste exquisite, no doubt there.

Your mouth formed an 'o', a little taken aback by his question. Or rather, his face when he asked it. He looked so innocent, and he was, in your head, innocent. But then the memory of him beneath you while you were making out with him on his lap flashed before your eyes, the small whimpers and touchy hands despite how much he tried to hold them back. Then him having to use the bathroom ten minutes after you'd decided to stop, because he was still so hard in his pants, but would never vocalise it - wouldn't want to rush you.

Truly, you did not understand how much of a pervert he actually was. Not yet, anyway. He was good at hiding it.

He let you process his question because he knew he was being forward, but he didn't take it back either, didn't rush you to answer. He let it hang in the air for as long as you needed.

You swallowed the lump in your throat that had kept you from speaking, all shy eyes and lip-biting.

"Yeah, that's- I mean, if you want to..."

"But do you want me to?"

You glanced at his lips, thought of his tongue and how it'd feel on your cunt. Fuck, you wanted it. So much. "Yes. Definitely."

Felix smiled, his hand snaking down to your thigh to pull you closer and move himself between your legs. You couldn't see it from this angle, but he was already embarrassingly hard at the thought of eating you out. He'd been thinking of it all morning.

He squeezed your thigh. "Then can I taste you now, baby?"

His voice was deeper, clouded by the arousal he felt already, infecting you as it sent a thrill between your legs, where he was posed up. You nodded, watching him as he shuffled backwards on his knees until he had both of his arms hooked under your knees, face so close to your clothed core already. It was a little intrusive, but you just about held back the urge to hide behind your hands.

His thumbs rubbed over the part of your thighs that wasn't covered by your night shorts. "Say it out loud. I need to hear you say the words. Tell me I can have a taste."

His coaxing, almost pleading words made your core throb with need. Just the way he looked up at you from between your legs had you aching for more.

"Please, Lix. Put your mouth on me," you breathed out, almost unable to fully get the words out.

His smile would've been almost reassuring had it not been for the obvious excitement on his face, his fingers slowly tracing upwards until they reached the hem of your shorts.

Slowly, he slid them down your legs, keeping his eyes on yours the whole time, making sure you felt safe. But once your panties were on display for him, he moved his gaze there, almost moaning at the sight of the soft cotton material.

"God, you're so beautiful. I can't wait to make you feel good, angel. I've been waiting for so long."

His mouth latched onto the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, subconsciously pulling you closer to his mouth where his hands held you in place. Your legs tensed up when his tongue darted out, rolling along your soft skin, followed by the gentle nibble of his teeth, marking you.

Feeling his mouth so close to your core and nibbling on the sensitive skin of your thighs made your cunt sob for more. But it was even worse when his face got close enough that his nose nudged against the fabric of your panties while he pressed kisses to your thighs, until he at last pressed a kiss over your sopping cunt. You let out a small whine, laying your head back against the pillow, because watching him do that was making you lose your mind.

He mouthed at your panties, wetting them more than they already were from your arousal, letting out small moans against you. The vibrations made pleasure bloom where you needed it most, your legs closing together around his head on instinct.

"Lix... mm- feels good," you hummed, trying to keep your voice down. You felt a little embarrassed when you made any noises, already overwhelmed by the feeling of his mouth on you, even if you had been wanting it so badly.

He continued to mouth at you through your panties, his tongue peeking out to tease you through the material, imagining the real deal beneath it. His grip on your thighs tightened only when you were about to squeeze his head completely, gently pulling them apart again.

"Then keep your legs apart, okay? I want to take my time with you," he hummed, meeting your eyes for just a second before putting all of his focus on your cunt again. He looked almost mesmerised, hungry. And when you saw that look in his eyes, you chose to shut up and lay back down. You wanted to see him get carried away, like he seemed to have been wanting for as long as you.

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, peeling them down your legs and exposing you to him fully. He hummed, gently placing your slick underwear beside you on the bed before lying down on his stomach, face lined up with your cunt.

He licked his lips as he took you in, slowly sliding his hands up your thighs before using his fingers to spread your pussy lips apart. You felt shy under his hungry gaze, but you stayed still, wanting to see what he would do.

After looking at you for a long moment, he finally put his mouth on you, his lips softly pressing against your wet cunt, almost like he was making out with you. You hummed, shutting your eyes for a second as you took in the feeling of his soft lips on such a sensitive part of your body.

He moved slowly at first, just kissing you there at his own pace before licking a stripe through your walls. You squealed then, hand reaching down to hold onto something. His hand came up, meeting yours without taking his mouth off of you, gradually gaining a pace with his tongue shoving into your cunt.

You bit your lip to try and silence the sounds that threatened to escape you, squeezing his hand while your hips bucked up for more. He let out a low moan against you, slurping up everything you gave to him, getting lost in the taste of you.

"You taste so good... so sweet..." he mumbled against you, his hair brushing against your thighs as his head bobbed slightly. You whined at his words, only to be broken off by a moan when his free hand reached up and his thumb pressed tight circles over your clit.

You cried out then, not even aware of your whimpers and moans as pleasure overtook you. You were so close to coming, it was embarrassing. It had just been so long since you'd been touched, even by yourself, and all this built-up tension with Felix left you so sensitive and desperate.

"A-ah, Felix..! I'm so close-" You interrupted yourself with a shuddering moan, squeezing his hand tighter as he continued to thrust his tongue into you, and his finger kept moving so flawlessly against your clit.

He groaned at your reaction, grinding his hips against the mattress as he had been doing since he got comfortable there. His cock ached in his sweatpants, leaking pre-cum that would surely stain them. But he didn't care. He needed more of you.

"Cum for me... Please cum... Let me taste it, please baby." His words were muffled against your cunt, but it didn't matter once you finally felt your orgasm wash over you.

You let out a broken whimper, eyes rolling back as your hips twitched against his face. Your hand moved from his to grip his hair tightly instead, tugging lightly at the strands. He kept licking over you, using his mouth to its best ability while he felt your walls gush around his tongue. He sucked up the arousal and cum you gave to him, licked you clean until your legs twitched around his head from overstimulation.

He pulled back, completely out of breath, your slick lining his lips as he looked up at you. You met his eyes almost deliriously, still coming down from the high he just gave you. A smile spread across his face at the sight of you, unable to help himself as he let out a small chuckle. He moved to rest on his knees between your legs again, kissing you with your slick still on his lips.

"I'd ask if you felt good but... given your sounds, I'll assume the answer is yes," he spoke lowly against your lips, teasing you a little. You whined, but didn't really care all that much - not when he'd just made you feel that good.

"Was I that loud?"

He thought it over, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Let's just hope Seungmin isn't home."

Before you could think on that too much, like he knew you would, he lay down on the bed, looking over at you with an almost expectant smile.

"Come here, baby."

You looked at him for a moment, aware of your half-nakedness now that the orgasm had washed away, before scooting over to him. He placed his hands on your hips, settling you over his lap while he got comfortable against the pillows, like he hadn't just eaten you out so obsessively seconds ago.

You could feel how hard he was beneath you, his cock poking up through his sweatpants right against your bare cunt. You whimpered at the feeling, instinctively grinding down against him, to which he stilled your hips with a pained groan. Your brows furrowed slightly.

"No, baby... I just want to focus on you right now. Sit on my face," he practically moaned, hands already trying to manoeuvre your body upwards.

You were almost a little disappointed that you wouldn't be able to feel his cock after waiting for so long, but you decided to let him run the show. After that orgasm, you'd just about give him whatever he wanted.

He could sense your slight disappointment even as you crawled up towards his face, chuckling at your reaction. "Come on. Be patient, hm?"

You nodded despite your heart's desires, moving to straddle his face instead. It felt vulnerable being in this position above him, but you didn't really mind - that was until he started pulling you impossibly closer to his face.

Your hips twitched, unfamiliar with the change of position, how he tried to make you sit down on him fully. "Lix, this is fine. I don't want to, like... crush you."

Your face heated up when he chuckled, his hot breath fanning your cunt, enough to make you squirm. "You won't crush me. Just sit down. Trust me," he urged you, placing a kiss over one of the marks he'd left on your inner thigh.

He held a firm, comfortable grip on your hips, before moving his hands down to your thighs as soon as you found the courage to sit on his face. He wanted to keep you there, in case you lost confidence, too desperate to have you like this to risk you pulling away for even a second.

Your hips stuttered the second his mouth was on you again, already managing to be as wet as before and even more sensitive after coming once already. His tongue started licking you again, rolling against you first and then letting his lips envelop your pussy lips.

You were already moaning again, closing your eyes in pleasure and then taking in the sight of him eating you out from this position. Your fingers found his hair once more, tugging on the blonde strands when the pleasure became too overwhelming.

He kept you there, held still against his face as he got lost in the taste of you. He was sure he was seeing heaven at times, his hips grinding against the air uselessly while his nose nudged against your clit.

Your moans turned into cries of pleasure, unable to help how your hips seemed to chase his mouth, grinding against his face and throwing your head back.

You could hardly understand Felix when he spoke against you again, only focused on how the vibrations of his deep voice affected you, "So good... just like that... ride my face..."

And you did, whether on purpose or not, it didnt matter, because the pleasure had consumed you now. You weren't in control of your own body anymore, chasing the second orgasm that threatened to blow over you.

"G-gonna... gonna cum again- Felix!" you sobbed. The shred of dignity you had left tried to move off of him, but his hands kept you locked in place, mouth moving to suckle on your clit, letting you smother his face.

You almost fell over, riding his face as you came all over it. He caught your cum with his mouth, slurping it up just like before, like he had been parched for weeks.

You were a panting mess above him, eyes shut and head thrown back, still overwhelmed with pleasure even when his mouth pulled back for air.

Truthfully, Felix had been almost suffocated by your thighs and your sopping cunt. But he'd done it to himself. He didn't care about the lack of air as long as he had your cunt on his face. He panted beneath you, gauging your face from where he lay as he caught his breath.

But once he'd gotten enough air, and you still weren't over the orgasm, he went back in. I mean, your warm pussy was still right in his face - so tempting, almost begging for his attention. He just had to.

You practically flinched when his mouth met your cunt again, the only thing holding you steady being his hands that kept you in place. You tugged on his hair, like that would make him stop, but he only moaned against you at the feeling, the vibrations almost making you cry.

"F-Felix..! Felix, s-stop-. I-it's too much!" you choked out, body heaving as your knees gave out beneath you. You lost your balance and had to settle for holding yourself up against the mattress as Felix continued his assault on your cunt.

"Just one more... one more, baby... you can do it..." Again, his words came out muffled against you. But even if his mouth wasn't buried against your cunt, you weren't sure you'd be able to comprehend his words anyway with the waves of pleasure currently crashing down on you.

High-pitched sounds of agony or pleasure or both left your mouth, out of your control, and you weren't even fully aware of it, too far gone. Your hips twitched and thighs ached from the position he had you in, but all you felt was your next orgasm closing in on you, swirling around in the pit of your stomach.

The corners of your eyes stung with tears, barely able to catch your breath as the intensity of your orgasm washed over you. But it was much more intense than before, your body tensing up as you came.

"L-Lix! Lix-! C-coming..!"

Felix groaned beneath you as you came, followed by even more of your juices when you squirted, soaking his face. Just then his own hips thrusted into the air, and at the feeling of your cum hitting his face, he came too, moaning against your cunt before pulling away to catch his breath.

It had been all he needed - he should be embarrassed, really, to have cum in his pants like this. But he wasn't - far from it. He didn't need anything other than being stuck between your thighs like this to get him off.

You hadn't even noticed him coming, gasping for air yourself, unsure of your surroundings as you crashed onto the mattress. Felix released your legs then, looking over at you to check if you were okay. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face as he rolled you onto your back, rubbing your sides affectionately.

Even with his face still dripping with your cum and his sweatpants soiled, he needed to check on you first.

"Hey, baby. Are you good?" he asked softly, watching as you still tried to catch your breath.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you could just about manage a nod and a quick look at his wet face. You groaned. "Did... did I seriously squirt on you?" You would've been more embarrassed if he hadn't just completely wrecked you.

He chuckled, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb. "Yeah, you did. It was amazing."

You groaned again, but he didn't pay it much mind, leaving for the bathroom instead. He came back with two glasses of water and a new pair of sweats for himself, his face dry now. And you were a little more conscious, to say the least.

"Thank you," you said when he handed you the glass, sitting up a little to drink from it. He kissed your cheek in response, taking a sip of his own glass before standing up to change into the sweatpants.

Your eyes widened, having just noticed the dark patch on the crotch part of them, making it obvious what had happened while he was busy pleasuring you. He noticed your staring and felt his face heat up despite himself. "I couldn't help it when you were moaning like that and... well, I think I'm gonna have to make you squirt like that every time. It was too good."

Somehow you were the one with a hot face now, and chose to drink from your glass to spare yourself the embarrassment. Even then, you found it hot how Felix had gotten off to pleasuring you. You surely didn't mind it.

He changed into the new sweatpants with his back turned to you, and you couldn't help but check him out from behind, enjoying the view for the few seconds it was there.

He sat down on the edge of the bed once fully changed, grabbing a wet cloth off the nightstand you hadn't even noticed before. You still felt a little delirious, that much was certain. He carefully spread your legs, wiping down your inner thighs and then your sensitive cunt, making sure you were fully clean. Once done, he set the cloth aside again.

You were both silent for a moment before he spoke up quietly, "It wasn't too much for you at the end, was it? I'm sorry if I got a little carried away..." He cleared his throat, his eyes not meeting yours for a second as he rested a hand on your waist, a silent comfort.

You managed a small smile, placing your hand over his before leaning in to kiss him. He hummed, kissing you back instantly, cupping your cheek. When you pulled back your eyes met his, still glistening from the aftermath of your intimacy.

"It was perfect. A little overwhelming, but I really enjoyed it, Lix. Did you?" You felt like you already had the answer to that but you were just making sure. You had to ask.

"Are you serious? That was the best thing I've ever done." His eyes widened enthusiastically, his hand clasping yours. You both just smiled at each other for a while, giddy about the new step in your relationship.

His phone dinged then, where it lay on the nightstand, and seeing who it was from, he grabbed the phone off the table. A small wince escaped him, scratching the back of his head before showing the text to you.

"Somebody isn't as happy as us, that's for sure..."

You looked at the text from Seungmin, grimacing at the screen;

: ̗̀➛ smut warnings: hard dom!felix, explicit sexual content, oral (f. receiving), reader has the biggest degradation kink, brat taming, slight edging, power play, unprotected piv (don't), missionary, semi-voyeurism

you’d always thought of him as sunshine.

everyone did.

even when he wasn’t smiling, felix had a glow to him, with freckles that danced across his cheeks like constellations and a voice that made people turn around just to hear him speak again. he was soft. gentle. sweet in every way.

even in bed he was gentle. he was all praise and slow hands. he loved you softly. every time.

which is probably why no one—including you—had ever seen him mad.

not truly.

you were perched on the edge of the couch in his dorm, nervously fidgeting with the sleeve of your hoodie. it was felix’s: slightly oversized and still faintly smelling like his laundry detergent.

you were here because you’d accidentally taken something you weren’t supposed to. a usb, to be exact. felix had handed it to you earlier in the day along with your own, and in your rush to leave, you’d pocketed the wrong one.

“i just feel so bad,” you groaned, glancing toward the hallway. “he said he needed it for something tonight. like, deadline needed.”

seungmin was sprawled across the other end of the couch, legs kicked up, eyes on his phone. he barely glanced up as he responded.

“you’re being dramatic.”

“no, this is really bad. i shouldn’t have—”

“honestly?” he cut in, finally looking at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “i don’t think he’s even capable of getting mad at you.”

you blinked. “what?”

he chuckled, flipping his phone over. “i mean, come on. you could probably punch him in the face and he’d apologize for getting in the way of your fist.”

you laughed despite yourself. “that is so not true.”

“isn’t it?”

you opened your mouth to argue, but then the front door opened.

felix stepped in, hoodie sleeves pushed up, hair slightly damp from the drizzle outside. his eyes found you immediately.

“hey,” you said, standing. “i brought it. sorry again, i seriously didn’t mean—”

“shh.” he was already moving toward you, gentle hands coming up to cradle your arms, thumbs brushing soothingly against the fabric of your his hoodie. “don’t stress, angel. it’s okay.”

“but you said you needed it for tonight,” you mumbled, guilt creeping up your spine. “i should’ve double-checked—”

“and i should’ve labeled mine.” he gave a small laugh, pulling you closer, tucking your head under his chin with that easy warmth that always made your chest flutter. “it’s not a big deal. really.”

you swore you saw seungmin choke on a laugh in your peripheral vision.

your eyes flicked sideways, just in time to catch him turning away, phone suddenly so interesting. his shoulders were shaking, just barely.

felix either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it.

“i’m gonna head out again to drop this off,” he said, voice still soft, fingertips lingering at your elbow for a second longer before letting go. 

you nodded, brushing your hair back behind your ear. “right. of course.”

“thanks for coming all the way back,” he added, gaze warm and fond, like you’d just done something heroic instead of, well, returning the thing you accidentally stole. he gave your arm one last squeeze. “text me when you get home, yeah?”

“i will.”

then he was gone, door shutting behind him with a soft click.

and the very second it closed, seungmin’s voice rang out from behind you.

“well that was gross.”

you turned.

“excuse me?”

he didn’t even look up from his phone. “you took his drive and somehow walked away with a hug, and a thank you.”

“okay, but—”

“nope. don’t justify it.” seungmin pointed his phone at the door.

you rolled your eyes, hoisting your bag over your shoulder, but the words stuck with you. warmed you a little too much. annoyingly so.

still, you couldn’t help yourself.

“he’s still a person. he’s not, like… impervious to irritation.” you muttered, half to yourself, half to the room. “if i pissed him off enough, he’d crack,”

seungmin didn’t even flinch. “tell me when that ever happens.”

you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “you know i’m gonna try to, just to prove you wrong.”

“mhm,” seungmin said flatly, not even looking up. “60 bucks. you have a week.”

“60 bucks,” you repeated. “i’m gonna find his limit,” you said, dead serious. “he has to have one.”

“good luck.”

you’d been thinking about it for days. how to do it, how to gently prod at the edge of felix’s limits without actually hurting him. you weren’t trying to be cruel. you just wanted to see something other than that permanent calm. you wanted to prove he could feel sharp things, too. that he wasn’t made of clouds and soft blankets and baked cookies.

jealousy. that was your angle.

was felix ever jealous? you genuinely didn’t know. he’d never so much as blinked when people flirted with you—though to be fair, you’d never exactly flirted back. you never had a reason to and you never wanted to.

but now, you needed a reaction.

so when your company hosted a casual dinner event—open to partners and friends—you didn’t hesitate to bring felix. he looked so good that night, dressed in soft black slacks and a black button up that hugged his torso a little too well for your sanity. his hand found yours under the table the second you sat down, thumb stroking slow, lazy circles against your palm like always.

you were seated at a long table with a mix of coworkers and guests, plates being passed around, wine glasses clinking gently, hearty laughter filling the room.

he was beside you, close and always tuned in to you.

but the guy on your other side was friendly. talkative. you leaned into it. just enough to have felix notice.

you laughed at something the guy said—tilting your head just slightly, gently hitting his arm in that way that could maybe be seen as flirty. maybe. you were careful.

felix didn’t say a word.

he was smiling, even. still soft spoken. still squeezing your hand every now and then. still brushing your thigh under the table with his when he shifted in his seat. he even leaned in at one point and murmured, “you okay?”

you nodded, playing it cool. “mhm. just chatting.”

felix grinned. that same soft, sunny smile that always made you feel like you were the only one in the room.

“alright,” he said, brushing your cheek with his knuckle before pulling back like nothing was even slightly off.

he went back to being quiet and polite. still engaged in the conversation going around the table, nodding at someone’s story, chiming in with a laugh when appropriate. he didn’t stiffen. didn’t narrow his eyes. didn’t even glance at the guy beside you like he might be competition.

you sat there smiling and nodding at whatever work guy was saying about his vacation to bali, but your stomach was knotting. tighter by the second.

because you knew what you were doing. and felix wasn’t reacting.

or at least he wasn’t reacting the way you expected.

he was still him. gentle. and he could’ve been using this moment to get back at you.

there were plenty of chances. the woman across the table who complimented his accent. the one seated diagonally, sipping wine and laughing just a little too brightly at his jokes. one even asked him how his skin was so clear and if he worked out—which, in fairness, were valid questions.

felix didn’t take the bait. he was polite, as always. gracious, even. gave small answers. thanked them with a nod and a smile. but he didn’t engage.

he didn’t offer even an ounce of attention that could be mistaken as anything more than manners.

and almost like he was aware of your internal panic creeping in, his knee pressed against yours beneath the table. then reached for his water glass and poured some into yours before you could even realize it was empty.

this wasn’t going to work.

you weren’t going to rattle him. you weren’t going to get that possessiveness, that glint of jealousy in his eyes.

because felix didn’t play games with you. he didn’t need to punish you or mirror your actions to prove a point. he didn’t crack under pressure or provocations.

this wasn’t going to work.

it had been a few days since the whole work dinner experiment—since felix had unknowingly, demolished your plan by doing absolutely nothing except love you the way he always did. respectfully. infuriatingly.

but you weren’t done yet.

jealousy didn’t work, sure. but irritation? that had potential. everyone had a limit, and you were determined to find felix’s.

you were at his place again—technically his and seungmin’s—kitchen lights warm, sleeves rolled up, and flour already dusting the countertop like early snow.

the goal today was mild sabotage. nothing irreversible. nothing that would actually ruin the cake. just… enough sugar to make it way noticeably sweet. enough to maybe make him sigh. maybe scold you a little. maybe just something.

you waited until he stepped away to grab a new mixing bowl, and then—quietly—you dumped in an extra quarter cup. and...maybe a little more.

by the time he came back, you were standing innocently with the spatula, gently folding the batter like you hadn’t just committed a culinary crime.

he paused. looked at the bowl. then looked at you.

“…did you add too much sugar?”

he caught you. you blinked up at him. “what, how'd you know—i mean...no?”

he hummed. scooped a bit of batter on his finger. tasted it.

and then, smiled?

“if you wanted it sweeter, you could’ve just told me,” he said, voice fond. “i’m gonna balance it so it doesn’t taste like pure syrup.”

you sighed loudly, dramatic, flopping back against the counter. “this is so annoying.”

he laughed and leaned past you to grab the fruit bowl.

“go chop up some of the fruit, okay? i’ll deal with this.”

you looked at seungmin, who hadn’t said a word. he gave you a look that screamed pathetic.

you stuck your tongue out at him and turned back to the cutting board, muttering under your breath.

great. jealousy failed. sabotage failed. what were you supposed to do now? bake the cake upside down? hide the eggs?

you didn’t know. you really didn’t know anymore.

your plan—whatever it had been—was slipping through your fingers. and even worse, you were starting to feel like you should give up. felix had been so patient, so kind through all of it, and suddenly, you just felt silly and immature. you had something so good, and you were trying to poke at him.

lost in thought, you didn’t even realize how close your fingers were to the blade until it was too late.

the knife slipped.

there was a sharp sting.

you yelped, the sound cutting through the warm haze of the kitchen as the knife clattered onto the counter.

“ah!” you gasped, clutching your hand. blood was already rising.

felix’s head snapped up instantly. “what happened?”

you stepped back, breath calming a little when you realized it wasn't too bad. “it's okay, i just cut myself.”

he was already there. crossing the kitchen faster than you’d ever seen him move, his hands reaching out to check your fingers, but the moment he saw the blood, his eyes darkened.

“what were you even doing?” he snapped, voice sharper than the knife that slipped. he turned the sink on and ushered you to come over. “were you even paying attention?”

your lips parted, stunned putting your finger under the running water. “i—i don’t know, i was just—”

“you weren’t thinking,” he cut in, tone clipped.

his voice rose. that low, velvety rasp he usually used to whisper sweet things into your ear was now slicing through the air.

“for fuck’s sake,” he muttered, shaking his head, “i asked you to do one simple thing. not play with the goddamn knife.”

you stared at him, completely disarmed. not just by his rumbling voice. but also how he looked.

chest rising and falling under his fitted sweater, sleeves pushed back just enough to show the flex of his forearms. his jaw clenched, eyes dark with something deeper than just irritation. he looked… furious. and so hot.

your mouth went dry as you stumbling onto a chair.

you couldn’t stop staring at the way felix was breathing, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, like he was trying to bite back whatever else he wanted to say. his hands, still stained with flour, flexed at his sides. every muscle in his jaw was tense.

seungmin stood up, crossing the kitchen to the cabinet. nothing was gonna progress if you stayed there ogling at your angered boyfriend.

he grabbed a bandaid, crouching beside the chair you’d sunk into. he opened it like lee felix hadn’t just snapped for the first time in recorded history.

“here,” he said, putting it in your hand. “don’t bleed on the tile, you'll make it dirty.”

you gave him a weak glare, but he just smirked.

felix hadn’t moved. he was still standing there, looking at the floor now, his expression twisted as if he was starting to come to his senses

“you got really worked up there, man,” seungmin said, tone light but clearly pointed.

that made felix move. he blinked like he was coming out of something, then turned toward you—eyes wide now, voice quiet.

“i’m sorry, baby” he said.

you didn’t say anything for a second. just stared at him, still a little stunned by the whiplash.

but even now, with his shoulders slumped and his tone apologetic, he still looked good. still had that anger simmering just under the surface. still had you simmering.

you swallowed hard.

“it’s okay felix,” you said slowly. 

seungmin raised a brow but said nothing.

felix crouched in front of you, his hand ghosting over yours.

you swallowed. he was still doing everything out of love.

even when his voice rose and his hands tightened and his eyes darkened—he was still the same felix. still apologizing even though you had started this whole mess.

you hadn’t even pissed him off correctly. he didn’t yell because you were annoying. he yelled because you were bleeding and he didn’t know how else to handle the sudden fear curling in his gut.

and now he was kneeling in front of you, shame written in every line of his face, like he had done something unforgivable.

you wished he hadn't come down from it so fast.

you wished—maybe more than anything—that he knew he didn’t have to keep being perfect for you to love him.

“i won’t yell like that again,” he murmured. 

you blinked at him, and for a second you wanted to say don’t promise that.

you didn’t know what else to do.

jealousy had failed. sabotage had failed. even blood hadn’t done it right. every attempt chipped at something inside you—your confidence, your ego, your grasp on what you were even trying to prove. and yet…

seungmin had texted you the evening of the baking incident: [that was a close one] [but it didn’t count. try harder.]

you'd stared at it for a long time.

one last attempt.

if you couldn’t get felix to be mad at you, then maybe you could make him lose control somewhere else.

which is why he was between your thighs right now.

you were sprawled across his bed, hips twitching, sheets clutched in your fists.

felix was eating you out like he had all the time in the world to worship every inch of you. his tongue was working you open so slowly you wanted to scream. and he kept murmuring sweet things between licks.

felix’s tongue traced a slow line up your slit, lips closing over your clit. he groaned softly into you, the sound vibrating through your core, and his arms curled tighter around your thighs, anchoring you in place. you were trembling, half mad with need already, and all he’d done was kiss you like he loved you—which, of course, he did.

“taste so good, angel… always so sweet for me, aren’t you?”

“f—felix…” your voice broke on his name, hands knotted in the sheets. he just hummed again, lips gliding over your clit, tongue flicking in slow, circles that had your thighs quivering. he was so gentle like you were the only thing in the world worth touching delicately.

and maybe that was the problem.

you were panting, already so close and he hadn’t even slipped a finger inside yet. you could feel your orgasm mounting, and you knew what would come next. he’d hold you through it. he’d kiss your thighs, murmur praise, make you feel like you were the center of the universe.

you were already trembling, one hand fisting in his sheets, the other tangled in his hair, breath coming in staggered whines. he didn’t speed up. didn’t deviate. he continued until your hips twitched and a loud moan slipped out without thinking.

and then he paused. just for a second, making you curse internally.

his eyes lifted to yours, warm and glassy, lips shiny with you.

“shhh, darling…” he whispered, and the way he said it made your stomach flip. “seungmin’s in the living room, remember?”

your chest heaved. right. he always reminded you. because you’d confessed once—embarrassed and flushed, the sheet pulled up to your chin after a particularly loud session—that you hated the idea of his roommate hearing. and since then, felix had always made sure to keep things quiet. to warn you. to soothe you when your voice got too high, your cries too desperate. he’d press a kiss to your throat, a hand hovering over your mouth, shushing you.

but tonight, something changed in you.

you weren’t going to hold back.

so when his mouth dipped again, lips closing over your clit in a slow, gentle suck, you let it out. a high, shaky moan that cracked at the end, followed by a breathless, “fuck, felix.”

he froze.

lifted his head.

his brows were drawn, just slightly, and his voice—when it came—was low and firm, not scolding just yet but edged with something you didn't know he had.

“hey.” his thumb stroked up your inner thigh, slow but deliberate. “quiet down.”

your breath hitched, thighs twitching around his shoulders as the authority in his tone settled in your chest.

you pouted. just a little. “why?”

his eyes narrowed. there was a flicker of disbelief there, like he didn’t quite believe you were pushing this boundary.

“because kim seungmin’s out there,” he said, slower this time, more deliberate, as if you’d forgotten. “and you hate being overheard.”

you shrugged, arching your back slightly, enough to grind your hips closer to his face again. “maybe i changed my mind.”

his eyes flicked to your cunt, then back up to your face. now it was no longer just disbelief. it was almost possessive.

“well i don’t want him to hear you.”

the words were flat. he meant it.

you blinked, breath catching.

“i don’t want anyone hearing what you sound like when i’ve got you like this,” he continued, leaning in until you could feel the heat of his breath against your inner thigh. 

you bit your lip, the heat rising in your face. in your chest.

“but…” you started. “you always do what i want.”

that did it.

you watched his jaw clench tighter, watched the tension rise in his shoulders, watched the composure crack. just a little.

felix rose slowly, and settled over you, forearm bracketing your head, chest brushing yours as he leveled his face just above yours.

you felt it instantly.

gone was the usual ease in his posture, the pliant softness you always leaned into. what loomed above you now wasn’t your sweet, sunny felix—it was the part of him he always held back, the part that simmered under the surface like magma, until you poked at it.

and tonight you’d done nothing but poke.

he leaned in again, slow, like a feline in tall grass, and planted his palm flat against the mattress beside your head.

“you really think i don’t know?”

you swallowed hard.

“that you’ve been bratty for days,” he said, “flirting with that guy at dinner. cutting your hand because you couldn’t stand that i didn’t break. ”

your cheeks flamed, breath catching, but you still held the edge in your smile.

“i was distracted that time—”

his hand moved fast, gripping your jaw, enough to make you stop talking.

“don’t,” he said. “don’t give me that look.”

your heart kicked up behind your ribs. he’d never grabbed your face like that before. never interrupted nor spoke like that.

it made your thighs press together. instinctive.

and he noticed.

he dipped closer, forehead brushing yours, and you could feel his heart beating in time with yours.

“you think i haven’t been watching you push?” he hissed. “every. little. act.”

you whimpered, lips parting, but he kept going.

“you’ve been begging for this,” he said, biting out the words. “not out loud. but with every goddamn thing you’ve done.”

you shivered.

“and you think i don’t see you?” he growled. “you think i don’t know exactly what that look means?”

his fingers tightened on your jaw, tilting your face toward his—close enough to kiss, but he didn’t. he just held you there, breath brushing your lips, eyes burning through you.

“tell me the truth,” he said, voice a warning, a promise. “tell me what you want.”

you could barely breathe.

your voice came out thin, cracked around the edges. “you, like this…” your eyes were wide, lashes wet, trembling as you looked up at him. “this is what i want.”

felix didn’t flinch.

he just stared, his grip on your jaw unrelenting, eyes dark and unforgiving as they searched your face.

“of course it is,” he said flatly.

you blinked.

he tilted your face up a little more, so much that it hurt your neck to hold the position. his voice dropped. “look at you. shaking like a leaf, soaking the fucking sheets—just because i stopped being nice.”

you winced.

his words were true. and he knew it. you weren’t just turned on. you were feral. dripping and desperate, your shame crawling over your skin like fire ants.

“you’re pathetic,” he said, letting go of your jaw. 

he pushed you back roughly. his hands were already on your thighs, spreading them open without care. not gentle.

like you were his and he was sick of pretending otherwise.

“you want to be hated, don’t you? love isn’t it for you?” he muttered, gaze locked on your slick cunt as he stroked two fingers through the mess between your legs. 

your hips bucked.

“well,” felix said, voice like gravel dragged slow across glass, “if that’s what you want…”

his fingers sank into you—two at once, fast, merciless. your body jolted, a high cry tearing from your throat before you could stop it. he twisted his wrist.

“i’ll give it to you.”

you gasped, back arching. “y-you don’t mean that,” you choked, words splintering on a sob. “you love me—”

“i’m gonna fuck you like i don’t.” he said, without softness. 

his fingers pulled free. you barely had a second to breathe before he shoved your thighs wide, leaned over, and pressed his cock to your dripping cunt.

he was right at your entrance, the head of his cock teasing just enough to make you squirm, to make your hips buck in desperate little jerks that only dragged the moment out longer. he could’ve slammed in. could’ve torn the rest of you open in a single thrust, left you breathless and sobbing.

but he didn’t.

because under all that dark fire, under the roughness and anger, he was still him. still good. still your felix.

he blinked, and for a second, just a second, you saw the question flicker through his expression.

“is that what you want?” he asked.

he was still offering you a way out. still giving you that choice even though the answer was very much clear. you knew it for what it was.

you nodded, frantic. fast. whining as you tried to roll your hips, tried to force him inside, but his grip on your thigh only tightened.

“talk to me,” he rasped, a thread of control still clinging to him.

you blinked at him through the haze, a smile curling on your lips.

“yes,” you said, voice thin and greedy. “yes, i want it. i want you to fuck me like you’re sick of me. like i finally got under your skin.”

his cock pushed in deep, slow at first. he wanted to draw it out, make it last.

“you did,” he growled, pulling back and slamming in hard enough to make the bed jolt, your cry piercing the room. “you fucking did.”

his hips snapped forward again. it was harder this time, the rhythm punching out choked sounds from your throat with every thrust. not words anymore. just ragged little whimpers, helpless and high, your whole body jostling beneath him as he used you—fucked you—with none of the gentleness you’d always known.

“you wanted this,” he spat, chest heaving, sweat dripping from his hairline onto your chest as he put your ankles over his shoulders. “you fucking asked for it.”

he growled as he looked down at you, at the tears rolling over your cheeks, at the way your mouth opened and closed.

you met his glare with a slight smirk, eyes glazed and bratty to your last breath.

“i never knew you were capable of being mean,” you gasped, voice cracking as you arched under him.

he groaned and slammed in so deep you screamed, your entire body jolting up the bed from the force of it.

“because i love you,” he growled, voice so low it scraped the inside of your chest. “i’ve only ever tried to treat you well. like you matter. like you’re everything to me.”

he leaned in closer, one hand pressing hard into your hip, the other curling around your throat.

“but that’s not what you wanted, was it?” he dipped lower, lips barely brushing yours. “you wanted this. you wanted me mean. you wanted me to use you, and now you’ve got it.”

his cock dragged out slow, and then drove back in so hard your moan broke on your tongue.

“you never wanted soft.”

you blinked up at him, tears hot and sticky down your temples, your mouth quivering.

“i was—” you panted, a hiccupped cry catching in your chest, “i was trying to prove a point.”

he sneered, not stopping, pounding into you like he wanted to fuck the brat right out of your soul.

“to who, y/n?” he hissed, words snapping like whips.

you moaned, high and messy, because you were still so turned on.

“who?” he shouted again, voice rising.

and you said it.

rather, whimpered it.

half-mindless, but not mindless enough.

“seungmin.”

felix went still.

then he laughed, bitterly

“fucking knew it,” he muttered, more to himself than you, jaw tight as he gave a small, almost deranged shake of his head. “you and him. the way you bicker. the way you look at each other. of course you’d moan his name out while i’m balls deep in you.”

you whimpered out, trying to say something along the lines of sorry.

“here i am,” he snarled, voice dropping to a whisper, “loving you dearly. holding you when you cry.”

he slammed into you again and you screamed, head snapping back.

“and you’ve been pushing me,” he said, voice quiet, almost calm—but beneath it, something was cracking.

another thrust, hard and fast, punching a choked cry out of your lungs.

“all of that just to prove a point to kim seungmin?”

your mouth dropped open. it was useless and silent, your head lolling on the pillow as his cock hit that deep, devastating spot again and again, your body unable to hide how badly you were still enjoying it.

he sneered. “do you even understand what you’re doing?”

your eyes flicked to him—lashes soaked—and your lips moved, trying to form a denial. but you couldn’t lie.

“i-i wasn’t trying to—” you whispered, but he cut you off.

“you weren’t trying? you’re worse than i thought,” he spat, pulling out just enough to let the next thrust slam in deeper. “you don’t even know what game you’re playing. you’re playing me, you’re playing him—”

you didn’t know anymore.

if he was really mad. if this was just another version of his anger wrapped in arousal, or if something had actually shattered under the weight of everything you’d done. you couldn’t tell if he meant the things he said—or if he was just saying them because it was what you’d pushed for until something inside him snapped.

all you knew was that your head was spinning, your lungs barely worked, and your body couldn’t stop trembling around him.

“i’m close,” you whimpered, your voice a rasp, broken and high and soaked in panic, “felix, please—”

he didn’t slow. if anything, he fucked you harder.

you were sobbing now, face sticky with tears, wrists straining in the binds as your body shook from the pressure curling tighter and tighter in your belly.

“i’m sorry,” you cried, the words tumbling out, raw and hoarse and true. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it, i didn’t, felix, please, i’m so sorry, let me cum—"

“shut up.”

you bit your lip to silence a sob. he looked down at your flushed face.

he cursed under his breath. a low, ragged sound.

“do you think you deserve it?” he bit out.

you shook your head, “no,” you gasped, barely a whisper.

“you know your place.”

your cunt clenched around him, a helpless flutter, and he groaned, rolling his hips harder into yours.

“i'll be generous so go on then,” he snarled. “cum for me.”

once you heard those words you came with a muffled scream as you covered your mouth with your hand. it hit so hard you thought for a second you might black out. felix groaned. a sound ripped from the very pit of his chest, his pace faltering for the first time as he felt it.

“fuck,” he hissed, rutting through the mess of your orgasm, the loud slap of his hips against your soaked skin. “you’re making such a mess.”

he shuddered against you, hips twitching as he came inside of you a few thrusts later, filling you. then, gently, slowly, his body folded over yours. his forehead pressed your neck as he stayed there, breathing with you.

he slipped his cock out and you whimpered from the loss.

“i love you, felix.”

he was still breathing hard against your neck.

“i love you so much, baby.” he whispered, voice hoarse against your throat.

his lips pressing over yours as you kissed him back gently. when he pulled away, you blinked up at him, dazed.

“again?”

the next morning, you woke up sore. the sheets around you were a little crooked, the pillow beside you empty.

you blinked blearily and reached for your phone, but something else caught your eye.

there was a note. folded and sitting neatly on the nightstand.

recording right now, but i’ll be back soon. pour yourself a cup of coffee. i love you! – lix ♡

you smiled and stretched out your limbs, wincing slightly at the ache before dragging yourself out of bed and into one of felix’s oversized sweaters and boxers. 

barefoot and quietly smug, you padded down the hallway into the kitchen.

and there he was.

seungmin.

leaning against the counter in sweats and a hoodie, eyes fixed on his phone, coffee half-drunk on the table beside him. he looked up when he heard you and you did what anyone would do after getting absolutely obliterated in the next room over by his bandmate.

you pretended nothing happened.

“morning,” you said, voice light, moving straight to the coffee pot. “didn’t think you’d be up.”

“i’ve been up,” he said simply.

you nodded and reached for a mug—felix’s, the pale blue one with the tiny chip in the rim—and poured yourself a cup. steam curled up around your face, and you focused on it like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

and then you felt it.

his presence. he stepped closer. closer.

seungmin reached over your shoulder and set something on the counter in front of you.

sixty bucks in cash.

you stared at the bills for a second.

then turned.

slowly.

seungmin was already taking a sip of his coffee, eyes flicking to yours over the rim of his mug.

“congrats.”

your mouth twitched, the corner pulling into the smallest smile.

you looked down at the cash again and without saying anything, you plucked the bills off the counter and shoved them straight into the front pocket of felix’s hoodie like you’d just been handed your trophy.

“you really thought i wouldn’t pull it off?” you asked, turning back to your coffee, tone breezy.

“i hoped you wouldn’t,” he deadpanned. “i was rooting for the soft boy.”

you huffed a laugh, lifting the mug to your lips. “he’s still soft.”

seungmin gave you a long, dry look.

you shrugged, eyes twinkling over the rim. “...just not all the time.”

he snorted.

then leaned back against the counter, sipping slow from his mug. “so,” he said casually, “how’d you do it?”

“do what?”

“make him snap.” 

you licked your lips, fighting another smile. “i might’ve… slipped your name in there a few times.”

his eyes narrowed, slow. “yeah?”

“it got him pretty worked up.” you said, laughing as you set the mug down. seungmin stared for a beat.

then—he rolled his eyes. “of course it did.”

there was a long pause. you didn't know what to make of it.

he said, quiet but clear, “tell him he doesn’t have anything to worry about.”

you nodded.

“i will.”

you stepped back slowly, letting the silence hold, and turned toward the hallway when the front door clicked open.

both your heads turned.

felix stepped in, hair tied back, hoodie sleeves bunched at his elbows, a little windblown from the walk. his eyes lit up the moment he saw you.

“hey, angel,” he said, smile so warm it melted straight into your ribs.

you crossed the room in a few slow steps, rising onto your toes to meet him halfway. your hand curled around his jaw, thumb brushing the skin just below his cheekbone, and you kissed him.

his other hand found your waist immediately, pulling you in as he smiled against your lips. he pulled away just enough to wrap his arms around you, tucking you into his chest. his chin rested lightly on top of your head, breath warm as it fanned through your hair.

you melted into him, your hands slipping under the hem of his hoodie, fingertips grazing the bare skin at his waist.

when you pulled back first, you reached into the pocket of his hoodie. he watches you with mild curiosity until you pull your hand out again, pinching a few folded bills between your fingers.

“i’ll treat you today,” you announced, very pleased with yourself. “we'll go somewhere nice for lunch."

felix’s gaze flicked from the money, to your face, then over your shoulder. straight to seungmin.

there’s a beat where he just stands there, processing it all, and then he laughed. he shook his head, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“i wonder where you got that from.” he said, still smiling.

you huff, shoulders slumping a little as you tuck the bills back toward your pocket. you jabbed a finger into felix's chest.

Your boyfriend, Felix, you have to say is a LOL fein. He's always playing in his free time during schedules. Grinding for hours on end to move to the next rank.

Today was like one of those days, he was finally free and decided to go back to his dorm to play some games. He didn't even know you were home, he went straight to his bedroom and booted up his PC.

You? Well you had been in his dorm all day waiting for him to get back home, so you could jump his bones.

No really, all day since you had opened your eyes that morning.

Ovulation was a bitch and it hit you hard this cycle. You felt heated from the inside out, libido clawing at you like an animal, and you needed something or someone to help the fantasies stirring in your mind. That person who kept playing in the fantasies was your boyfriend. You could have touched yourself but you knew that wouldn't fulfill you. And right now he is currently playing games.

Not even looking around the house to find you or calling you, or texting you.

Maybe you just needed to get his attention. So you slipped into his room without him even hearing, only because he had his headphones on and probably wouldn't even know if a bomb went off.

You were in only panties and one of his shirts fell to your mid thigh. An outfit to definitely make him look at you and want his hands on you. Right?

So you creeped up behind him and stood behind his gaming chair and slid his headphones off his head until they fell on his shoulders.

He glanced back at you briefly. Not even enough to catch what you were wearing. "Oh hey doll." He acknowledged briefly before looking back at his pc screen that was glowing blue lights on his face. Catching all his features and soft freckles that speckled his skin.

When he didn't give you the immediate attention you were hoping for, you frowned softly and looked at your feet.

"Babe…" You whined, twirling your fingers in his blonde silky strands, messing it up slightly.

He waved you off, not even looking back. "Hold on… I'm… busy." He muttered, voice trailing off as the space filled with the rapid clicking of his keyboard and click of his mouse.

You pouted and sighed, leaning against his chair. "Baby please?" You whined, hands slipping to his shoulders and rubbing the knots that usually lay there.

He didn't even answer you, he just tsked softly. How dare he just wave you off when you were very very horny and practically offering yourself up to him like this?

When you kept poking at his shoulders to get him to look at you and he didn’t look over at you, you started to get annoyed.

You huffed hard and then in one motion spun his gaming chair around and dropped on to his lap.His breathing hitched softly, hands almost immediately dropping to your hips and sliding down to squeeze your thighs.

He finally noticed your choice of clothing and smirked. "Oh… Okay… I see. Is my doll just needy? Why didn't you just say that?" He muttered in your earth, warm breath brushing your ear.

You whined softly and buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in that warm scent of his cologne he always wore and the stale practice room air that stuck to his skin. His hands, now rubbing small circles on the inside of your thighs, burned through your skin in blossoms of desire that spread fast everywhere.

It was almost pathetic how fast you got wet. Already soaking through your underwear and leaving a very obvious wet patch.

"Need something? Use your words."

Your nails dug tighter into his arms. "Please… please… I need you please… or  you to touch me… I'm just so needy…" You begged softly, your voice trembling. Your warm breath as you spoke hit the back of his neck and made his hair stand.

"Good girl… and look at me… you already got me all hard beneath you." He rasped into your ear and then planted wet kisses on your neck and biting down hard ever so often to make you gasp loudly.

It left a deep bite that was already starting to bloom purple and he leaned back to admire his work, holding your head back with his hand on your jaw."

Fuck you're always so pretty covered in marks." He noted, thumb brushing over an old mark on your jaw. You couldn't help yourself, you rolled your hips against his, needy for friction. It pulled a soft whimper from you when his hands tightened on your hips.

His finger hooking into your underwear to tug at them harshly. "Lift your hips for me baby." He ordered, and you whined sharply as you obeyed and let the damp fabric slide down your legs.

"So wet for me already hm?" He uttered, thumbs dipping down to collect the wetness that slid down your inner thigh.

Then without breaking eye contact, he dipped his thumb into his mouth and tongue swirled around the pad. He watched your eyes go wide and pupils dilate with desire.

"Mm fucking delicious…" He huffed almost smugly. Your pussy throbbed hard, pulsing and clenching around nothing.

Your hips rolled desperate for any friction you could get but he stopped you with his hands on your hips. "In fact, it's so delicious I want some more…" He muttered against your neck before licking a strip down to your collar bone.

Then he was grabbing you, hauling you up in his arms and you squeaked softly, wrapping your thighs around his waist.

Then he was dropping you on the bed in the room, you bounced a few times as your back hit the cool sheets. It tingled chilly even through your thin shirt.

He stood over you for a few seconds and let you watch as he peeled his shirt off his body. He let your eyes drift over the carved figure of him. That was illuminated by the soft glow of his pc still on.

"Open." He ordered, tapping your ankle and your legs spread open to make room for him as he crawled on the bed to your open legs.

Then his breath was hitting the wetness between your thighs, you shuddered hard and finger clenched in the sheets. He huffed a laugh and eyes flickered to you as you looked down at him.

He took in how your pussy had turned a deep red wine color in desire and if it didn't look like something he could ravish until you fell apart on his tongue.

He didn't waste any time, his tongue was tracing your slit and his fingers digging into your thigh and holding them open for him. You let out a very sharp high moan and your hand immediately dropped to his hair.

Your fingers slipping into the blonde strands and clenching to hold him there. Your breathing came in shaky puffs. You pushed yourself up so your head could rest against the bed frame and you could keep looking at him.

He shifted to the new position immediately. His tongue traced your clit and your lips deliberately licking all the wetness off of you and making you even more needy.

When your thighs started shaking because of how bad you needed him to do something more, he laughed against your clit. "Aw, does my doll want more? Shh… I know what you need…" He mumbled against you, sending sparks flying up your spine to the tips of your fingers.

Then his tongue finally delved into your hole and fucking in and out of you. The tip of his tongue hitting your walls.

The sensation of him fucking you with his tongue exactly how you needed it had you practically screaming, you threw your head back and it hit the back board with a soft thunk.When his lips sucked your clit with just the right amount of pressure, your fingers tightened so hard in his hair that it stung.

Then his tongue found you g-spot deep inside of you and brushed over it and you screamed, eyes clenching shut in pleasure.

You were already embarrassingly close, your thighs already starting to shake around his head. He never stopped once, breathing through his nose and lapping and sucking at your pussy exactly how you needed it.

This kept on for a few minutes until you started to feel the clenching of your stomach as you got closer and closer. Your whole body was now shaking and you eventually started to beg.

"Please… Please… fuu— Jesus Christ… 'm gonna fucking— ah! Please let me…" You babbled helplessly, voice almost a pathetic sob. Your breath stumbled down to shaky exhales.

He took that as a sign to fuck you harder with his tongue. You were right there… so fucking cl—

You screamed so loud it could probably be heard through the whole dorm and your thighs clenched around his head to keep him there as you came on his tongue. White light blurred the edges of your vision and your stomach lurched hard.

He tongue fucked you all the way through your orgasm not even slowing once.

His name on your tongue eventually turns into a soft sob as your thighs unclenched around his head and you gently let go of his hair that you had in a death grip.

Your breathing slowed eventually and then he kissed your clit softly and moved to pull you into a hug. "It's okay doll is got you… Shh… breathe." He mumbled in your hair, pressing soft kisses along your hairline.

You felt his hardness press against your thigh in his pants as he cradled you in his arms. Then you heard a low hiss from his lips when you deliberately shifted to press against it.

"Here let me…" You whispered, voice moving to his pants and then the quiet sound of a button popping and a zipper being tugged down.

You freed him from his boxers and started to stroke him slowly. He pulsed in your hands, already leaking from the tip and dribbling on the sheets. He groaned and dug his fingers into your thigh.

You made sure to stroke him tip to base, trying to give him a hand job and good as he just gave you oral.

Your thumb brushed his tip with every upward stroke and it made his breath hitch every time. Your other hand moved to fondle his balls in your hands.

He was now breathing heavy, his chest heaving and groaning deeply at every stroke of your hand.

His hand moved to grab your jaw and then he was pulling you into a heated kiss. Your taste still on his tongue, he transferred the taste as his tongue over brushed yours.

It was a heated kiss that only broke to get air then right back down every time hungrier than the last.

"Fuck…" He groaned in your mouth when you squeezed him at his base. He pulsed in your hand when you started stroking him faster in a dedication to making him come in your hand.

He grunted and his hips rusted into your hand immediately without thinking. "Baby… fuck… 'M gonna come… shii—" His words jumbled together in a heated mutter against your lips.

Then with a shallow thrust into your fist, he came, white spurts of cum that landed on his chest and on your hands. It dripped off your hand and on the sheets. He groaned out your name and pulled you into a kiss and he moaned into your mouth.

When his heart rate finally fell back to normal rate he was pulling you against his chest and burying his face in your neck. His teeth scraped against your neck as he panted softly.

The room reeked of sweat and sex now. A familiar smell that somehow calmed.

He buried his face in your boobs and then spoke, voice raspy. "Next time when I ignore you… just start ripping off my clothes… I'll get the memo." He whispered, and you felt the smirk against your neck when you huffed a laugh.

Hi so this isn't proof read at all and I have a feeling I missed a few tags... 🥹 but pls enjoy this. Hope you enjoy! likes and reblogs are super appreciated! Lmk if you any request in the comments! Have an amazing day! xx

Roommate!Felix who happens to have a crush on you. It’s difficult not to, you’re just — so his type — he can’t describe it. It was innocent, really. He was merely looking for a shared apartment with someone and with much luck, he stumbled upon you. You, who shared a similar situation as his. Ever the kind Felix, he made sure to keep the space tidy and comfortable for you, trying not to scare off his pretty, new, roommate.

Roommate!Felix whose crush started developing the more he spent time with you. Completely normal interactions that he looked into way too deeply for his own good. You’re adorable, endearing, everything sweet and sugary. So beautiful when you walk down the stairs, groggy and yawning prettily. Opening your eyes to find him in the kitchen, offering him a tight smile despite your morning grumpiness.

Roommate!Felix who never missed a day to prepare you breakfast, everything ready by the time you leave your room. Somehow, he’s always spot on concerning your preferences. Milk in the morning makes you nauseous? Fine, he’ll get you some juice. Not up for something sweet—? Here's a salty treat instead.

Roommate!Felix who sulked when you jokingly asked him to stop feeding you so much, and that he’s the reason you’re taking on more weight — his meals’ a hard choice to refuse.

Why must he? He’s doing the bare minimum of being a considerate, and good-willing roommate!

Roommate!Felix who listens to your insecurities, holding you closer with ample comfort. Soothing you with gentle words, cradling you with the purpose of making you feel at home. Calmly disagreeing with any negative comment you tag your appearance as, though, he wishes he could do more than disagreeing. If you’d let him — he’d show you exactly how beautiful you are.

Inside-out.

Roommate!Felix who, with much guilt, allows those thoughts to become a usual occurrence. He shouldn’t — yes, he likes you — but this is too far, you’re still his friend. Someone he respects, someone he can’t permit himself from indulging in perverse thoughts of.

Yet, roommate!Felix keeps finding himself in situations that rushes the blood in his body.

Roommate!Felix whose small infatuation escalates into something deeper, more deranged whenever you’d pass by him. His gaze would hover on your figure minutes longer. Entranced, he’d swallow. Snapping out of it only when you sit across him or give him a confused look. Encouraging you to drink some water despite the fact that he’s the one whose mouth is dry.

Roommate!Felix who notices each of your gulps, beads of the liquid run down your pjs’ shirt, taking in how poorly the material attempts to hide your figure. You must’ve been thirsty. He breathes, hard. His breathing, and him. Pathetic, you’re just sitting before him and he's popping an erection.

You stand up, it’s the weekend, and you usually spend the Saturday together. Curving a brow when he makes no move to budge, tilting your head in confusion. “Aren’t you coming?”

He shakes his head, offering a smile. His lips twitch, difficult to keep the stance with the ache in his pants. “You go ahead— I… I’m still thirsty,” he excuses, pouring himself another glass of water. You nod, shrugging at his unusual behaviour as you plop onto the couch.

Roommate!Felix who uses your distraction on the TV to make his escape. Scrambling to his bedroom, he locks it. Breathing heavily, staring at the swell in his pants. There was no chance you wouldn’t have noticed that. Sighing, “Close call…”

Roommate!Felix who finds himself jerking off to the thought of you more than often. Needy cock leaking in his fist, drooling all over his skin with each of his tiny grunts of pleasure.

At first, it helped to relieve the pain. But the more he spends with you, the less satisfying his hands get.

He needs you.

Roommate!Felix who becomes awfully aware of your curves pressing against him during your movie nights. Snuggled comfortably in the other's warmth. His breaths are shallow, heartbeat creating statics in his ears. He holds the blanket closer, unfortunately, so do you. Scooting towards him in an attempt at battling the cold, his arms stay glued to his side, eyes fixed on the screen as if your boobs aren't mushed against him.

Roommate!Felix who wants nothing else than to bend you over and take you right there during the summers. Those tight shorts you wear — they make him insane. He's already losing it, day by day, you've got to be doing it on purpose. The soft meat of your tummy peeking through when you lean on the counter has him spiraling, fingers twitching to grab onto the flesh and stretch you wide on his cock.

Roommate!Felix who scolds himself as his imagination gets weirder by the seconds, hoping to ease his mind by avoiding you. Alas, he's the clingy one! The task’ harder than he had anticipated, soon finding himself in the confinement of your room, basking in your surroundings with an excuse of playing video games together.

Roommate!Felix who is tired of going on like this. Trying to make advances on you — at last — just to figure out that you're quite the oblivious type, taking his shameless approaches as him being overly friendly, patting him on the back with a giggle.

Do you even see him as a man? Or–

Roommate!Felix whose jaw twitches when you tell him that you're seeing someone. All proud in your gossiping about this lucky guy you met online. Pretending to give a fuck, why don't you see that he's right here!? Looking at you with those poor, puppy, eyes.

He almost gives in. Almost begs you on his knees to stay home tonight, to let him have you instead. He's been kind, considerate, and the best-est friend you could ever wish for. Why won't you notice him?

Roommate!Felix who has to hide his grin when you come back home upset, confessing that your date took the worst turn it could ever. You're so heartbroken, seeking comfort exactly where he conditioned you to.

Him.

Roommate!Felix whose brows knit as you confess what that guy said to you — about your body — letting the insecure tears fall. He's mad, mad that anyone would dare to look at you and say such nasty stuff. Mad that anyone would dare not to see your beauty, after all, you're his angel.

Roommate!Felix who calls you that as he cradles you. “Why're you crying over that jerk, angel? You're beautiful,” he'd compliment, an arm soothing your shoulder and the other gently patting your head. “So beautiful…” repeating the words with a sigh, lost in the sight of you curled up on the couch. In his embrace. His fingers fumble with the hem of your shirt, he could nearly slip inside — no — now is not the moment for these thoughts.

Roommate!Felix who swears that there's electricity in the air, and that he's not the only person here feeling it. You've got to too, because his comment has your head lifting. Glassy eyes meeting him in a hopeful awe, “You think so?”

He nods, biting on his lip when his gaze drops to your inviting mouth, lungs refusing to take any more of oxygen for a second. “I know so.”

Roommate!Felix who kisses you that night, or perhaps you're the one who started it. But his hand quickly ends up in your pants, grinding his fingers on your sobbing cunt, lips attached to yours the whole time while you cream around his digits.

Roommate!Felix, who assumes he's made some progress in how you perceive him. Because you've started acting strange after the encounter. That night, you had separated and called it a mistake, a spur-of-moment type of thing — and that you weren't thinking straight — he's your friend!

He was hurt, extremely, if he had to be honest. Hurt to the point of rotting away inside of his bedroom for days. However, as he started to get out once again, the first thing you did was hug him. Unprompted, your chest squished against his, arms wrapped adoringly around his neck while you mumbled quick and soft ‘sorry's’, telling him just how much you've missed him. His pulse started beating erratically, both his heart and his dick. Unfortunately. You could probably feel it, with your chest on his and your thick thighs rubbing on his bulge.

It almost felt on purpose. No, you couldn't have thought of that. Sure that you're innocently excusing yourself.

But then, Roommate!Felix really began to grow suspicions with your change of attire, and attitude around the corners of the house.

First, it was how you'd call his name — Lixie this, Lixie that — calling him for the simplest tasks at hand. Praising him for every tiny achievement, soft lips pressing on his cheek alongside the compliments. An act of gratitude, you called it. It became too much for him to bear when you started walking past him semi-naked, the plush of your breasts evident through the thin shirts you wear at home, nipples poking at the fabric. Those tank tops… your arms, the way it rides up with every subtle movement — so tight on you — it could rip apart so easily…

Excusing himself once again, or else he might combust right here and right now. Lose all forms of self control, and do something he might regret later.

Roommate!Felix's whose last straw happens one evening, where you innocently decided that it was okay to put your hands all over him after you, again, innocently spilled soda at the both of you.

It was an accident! Really!

You just happened to shake the bottle a tad too much, then it exploded in your hands. You're a victim here! But since you're so nice, you tried to clean it up for him.

Hands moving flat on his stomach, so casually trailing lower to rest on his thighs as you lean forward. “Oh no,” you mumble, grabbing a tissue, “look at the mess I caused—”

“What're you doing—?” he hitches, voice cracking with a caress on his stomach, feeling the bumps of his abs contract underneath your palm.

“Helping you…” your tone resembles the gentle lush of spring, bringing a dizzy haze to his brain, that the situation almost escapes him. Ears flushing red when you climb up to him, crawling towards him. Your tits in front of his face — transparent with the sugary liquid seeping through — he has to close his eyes, taking a ragged, controlled, breath.

“Stop,” he mutters, face scrunching. You hum, confused. Letting out a surprised yelp when he grabs onto your wrist, pushing you back onto the couch so that your positions are reversed. His gaze is pained in restraint, eyes gliding over your taken aback figure. “Helping me? Are you serious– you're making it worse,” his words are harsh, but his tone holds no venom.

Your lashes flutter, feigning naivety. “What do you mean?”

He frowns, skeptical. “Do you seriously not realize?”

You shake your head, shrugging, but a faint smile tugs at your lips. That's enough to tell him that you're toying with his poor heart. He's hard. Believably so. “I wouldn't know… if you don't tell me, Felix.”

He sighs, watching you lift your leg, thigh resting dangerously close to his erection. The one you both noticed. “You've got to be messing with me…” he can hardly speak. “You can't– you can't just walk around half naked and touch me like this." He gulps, dragging his pupils up to hold eye contact. “I'm a man, you know?”

Roommate!Felix who observes you gulp, the rise of your chest falling up and down under his sudden shift in behavior. Your plan backfiring — or perhaps it's working as you intended — to puppet his brain to the point of snapping.

Roommate!Felix who ends up with your pussy sat prettily on his face by the next hour. Somehow, he convinced you to sit on his face. You were against the idea — till he practically begged you to — ending up indulging, that might've been the heavens rewarding you, or him for his persistent work.

Roommate!Felix who grips on your thighs, fingers digging and curling into the soft meat to push you further onto his face. Shoving his tongue deep inside, until he's the one seeing white from the lack of oxygen. He doesn't need it, not when he's breathing in your pussy, drinking and lapping at every drop you present him with.

You've already cummed twice!! And he's showing no signs of stopping yet, if anything, he's grunting against your clit. Wrapping plump lips around the bundle of nerves, he sucks on it harshly; groaning when you twitch above him, grinding down on his mouth.

Felix spreads your folds, spitting on them before lolling his tongue out. The contact is hot, wet sounds emerging from how he's crudely making out with your cunt. You yelp as his teeth nip at your clit, holding onto the couch's armrest for support with an overstimulated cry. You don't think you can handle it any more! He's not listening either!

Roommate!Felix who notes the abrupt clenches of your walls gripping on his tongue desperately. He can tell you're about to cum again. Your thighs shake around his head, legs giving out from trying to support your body upwards. Crushing him, just like in his dreams.

“Fuck,” he's the one to curse, the sensation washing over his body from pleasuring you is too much. You have no idea what you do to him. He laps at your clit, tip of his tongue circling your clit in tight-messy patterns, involuntarily noises vibrating through your core as your palms land on his thighs, unable to hold it in — you warn him, a plea to accept a brief pause — however, he doesn't care about that. He wants you to soak his face, to squirt all over and have him drown in it.

Roommate!Felix who's the most joyous as your juices splashes him, gaping his mouth wide to swallow everything. You squeal, attempting to stand away from him in embarrassment. Alas (luckily), he holds you in place, dragging out your orgasm with his dutiful mouth till you're left a trembling and sensitive mess.

Roommate!Felix who taps his tip against your lips, urging you to suck on it like a lollipop. Barely pushing the first inch in, teasing as he bumps it to the inside of your mouth, moaning at the sight of the bump forming at your cheek.

Roommate!Felix who shoves it allll the way in, just to slide out entirely. Repeating the act, leaking when strings of saliva connect to his base from how deep he's in your throat, then back to nothing. Taking pleasure in your choked gags and coughs as he hits the tightest part of the warm tunnel.

Roommate!Felix who you had never expected to be so shameless about his obsession for your boobs. Constantly grabbing and kneading the flesh in his palms. No matter if you're wearing clothes, a bra, or nothing at all. He'll walk behind you, glued to your back as he snakes his arms around your waist. Embracing you softly, face deep in the crevice of your neck. But then his fingers would inch upwards. Up, and up to the tight fabric around your chest. Thumbs playing, and tweaking with your hardened buds, disregarding the cotton's barrier. On some days, he might even suck on the fabric, wetting and smearing his drool across your shirt.

Roommate!Felix who you hadn't known to have such a high libido. He's always horny. Scolding him for it, but you did this to him? That's what he'd tell you in his defense. It's your fault for messing with his head, your fault for causing the strain in his pants, and your fault for being so sexy he can't seem to tear from you.

God — if he could get under your skin — he would.

Roommate!Felix who's actually a sweet boyfriend — if that's what he is — when he isn't fucking you dumb. He takes you anywhere, and everywhere he deems necessary. Bending you over the nearest surface with the purpose of spreading you open on his dick. Splitting your cunt with every hurried thrust, because he can't afford to let go! It feels too good! His pace gets shallow whenever he's closed, quick slaps of hips hitting the deepest corners of your pussy, drawing out the cutest fucked-out noises out of your mouth — core aching and crying from overstimulation — simply because it's the third time he's pouncing on you today.

Roommate!Felix who holds onto anything he can find. Your tummy, your thighs, the meat at your hips — you drive him insane. His hands are small in the doughy flesh, getting him stupidly close just by watching you jiggle with his movements. He thrashes, squirms, and cries from holding you alone, adding to his pleasure — his toes curl when you start to cry too. Pinching at your chewy cheeks, calling you out for your tears, and hoping to calm you down as if he wasn't in the exact same state.

Roommate!Felix who shows how much of a good partner he is by kissing each fragments of your skin, loving and squeezing the flesh — not out of lust this time — but for the reason that he's in love with you. No matter how pussydrunk he can get, he first started with a silly crush on his beloved roommate.

—

chan — 'she even loves the music that my band makes'

The couch at the studio has a permanent dent in the cushions from where you always slouched. You didn’t plan on becoming a fixture there — it just happened. His late nights turned into your late nights, his takeout orders became your takeout orders, and when you fell asleep for the first time waiting for him to finish editing, the studio stopped feeling like his workplace and started feeling like yours too.

At first, it was just weekend visits. dropping off lunch, then lingering a while till he finished up. Then the weeknights where you’d wait past midnight, because going home alone felt lonely and wrong when he was still working.

2racha—changbin and jisung— stopped asking why you were there (han occasionally slept on the other side of the couch anyway). Even the security guard waved you through without checking your badge.

Tonight was no different. You were curled under his hoodie, half watching some reality show on your laptop while Chan tweaked a vocal track for the third hour straight.

an intern had arrived an hour ago, all bright laughter and eager questions. You didn’t mind at first, Chan was patient with newbies, always explaining things twice if needed. But then her chair inched closer to his. Then she started getting touchy when it wasn't necessary.

Chan didn’t even look her way, just leaned back in his chair, occasionally putting space between them. You watched from the couch, the laptop screen long forgotten.

Then she asked the question, voice pitched too high, “So, are you single, or…?”

You held your breath without meaning to. chan’s fingers stilled on the keyboard. Then he turned his head, just enough to catch your eye over his shoulder, and the corner of his mouth twitched, jerking his thumb to your direction, “I’m married, actually,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The intern’s face froze. Her gaze darted to you, then back to Chan, like she was trying to reconcile the idea of him belonging to someone with the fact that you were just… there. Quiet, half buried in his hoodie.

Chan didn’t wait for her to recover. He tapped his wedding band against the edge of his laptop and nodded toward the door. “that's a wrap for today, you should head out. It’s late.”

minho — 'you got me trippin' in finesse'

you've learned to read Minho's body like a second language, he's a dancer after all. You know his tells before he even speaks.

the way his shoulders relax when he’s finally nailed a routine, the quick tap of his fingers against his thigh when he’s impatient, the slight tilt of his head when he’s watching someone else move. It’s all punctuation in a conversation you’ve been having for months without saying a word.

You met at a studio mixer last summer, back when you were still just the barback for the afterparty, refilling drinks and dodging sweaty elbows. He’d been the one to notice you first, initiating a conversation with you over the counter.

Later, when the music switched to something slow and sultry, he’d pulled you onto the dance floor without asking, and you hadn’t protested.

Minho isn’t the type to flaunt things, though. He keeps his private life private, and you respect that, just a quiet understanding that some things don’t need an audience.

right now, you’re leaning against the doorway of studio 3, watching him run through a new routine with the team. Sweat glinting at his temples as he mirrors the others. You’ve seen this drill a hundred times, but it never gets old.

The music cuts abruptly mid step, and Minho’s gaze snaps toward the sound system — only to land on you instead. his expression turns into a soft smile, and you grin right back at him, raising your water bottle in a silent greeting.

One of the newer dancers, a woman with her hair tied in a tight topknot, follows his line of sight and raises an eyebrow.

Topknot leans into his space as he adjusts the music, her elbow brushing his arm. “You always this serious during practice?” she asks, he doesn’t look up from the playlist, just shrugs one shoulder.

Undeterred, she adds, “Bet you’re fun outside the studio, though. You ever take anyone out after hours?”

Minho’s fingers pause over the soundboard for half a second before he taps the play button again, letting the music swell back to life. He doesn’t answer her, just steps away to reset his position in the center of the room.

But topknot doesn't get a hint, it seems. She sidles closer, her voice dropping. “Come on, do you have a girlfriend or something?” She flicks her eyes toward you, still leaning in the doorway, and adds, “Or are you playing hard to get?”

You take a slow sip of your water. He’s never been one to entertain this kind of thing — not because he’s rude, but because he doesn’t see the point in feeding into games.

Still, you can tell the moment he decides to shut it down. He turns his head just enough to catch your eye, and the corner of his mouth twitches.

“nah,” he says, loud enough for the room to hear. “I already have someone.”

Topknot blinks, then laughs, like she thinks he’s joking. “Yeah? Where are they, then?”

Minho doesn’t hesitate. He lifts his chin toward you, and the smirk he’s been holding back finally breaks through. “Right there.”

changbin — 'guy.exe: 6 5'6 feet tall and super strong'

a matte black dumbbell rolled from Changbin’s grip and thudded against the rubber gym floor. He’d been at it for two hours— shoulders, back, arms, a relentless workout that left his top sticking to his skin in abstract patches of sweat. You watched from the bench near the water cooler, half hidden behind your phone, pretending to scroll while stealing glances at the way his muscles flexed under the lights.

Three years together, and the sight of him still made your pulse skip.

The gym was mostly empty, mid afternoon lull, just a few die hards and the staff wiping down machines. You’d come straight from work, still in your office slacks, your hair barely holding onto its ponytail. Changbin had texted earlier with a come keep me company and a winking emoji. who were you to turn down an excuse to watch your boyfriend work out?

A woman, early twenties, in one of those matching pink gym sets, hovered near Changbin’s bench while he adjusted the weight rack. You caught the tail end of her question, something about his deadlift form, but then she made her move. "Damn tho, you’re built like a god. Single?"

Changbin snorted, wiping his forearm across his forehead.. "Do I look single?" he said, shaking his head like the idea was ridiculous. Then, without hesitation, he tilted his chin toward you standing a few feet away, there, and grinned. "That’s my girl."

The woman followed his gaze, blinking at you like she’d only just noticed the water cooler, the benches, the entire half of the gym you occupied. You raised your hand in a half wave. "Sorry," he added, not sounding sorry at all.

You expected her to leave, but she just smirked, propping a hand on her waist. "Lucky girl," she said, loud enough for you to hear. then, to Changbin "You ever wanna trade up, you know where to find me." yikes.

Changbin’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyebrows did a little jump, He shot you a look—girl you seein' this?—before shrugging. "Nah," he said, casual as anything. "I’m good." He moved towards you and planted a kiss on your cheek, "Better than good."

hyunjin — 'hopelessly devoted to you'

You and Hyunjin had been neighbors in that crumbling apartment complex where the pipes groaned louder than the tenants, and your first real conversation happened because he'd left his studio door ajar.

The scent of paint had pulled you in like a lure, and there he was, sleeves rolled up, forearms smeared with charcoal, halfway through painting something that looked like a storm given human form. and you were mesmerized.

By the time you started dating, you'd learned to love the mess of him — the way his hair stuck up in every direction after hours of working, the paint streaks on his jeans, the fact that he'd forget to eat unless you nudged a takeout container into his line of sight. He balanced his chaotic creativity with a quiet steadiness that surprised you.

his art thrived on bold strokes and screaming colors, his love language was more subtle, warming your cold fingers between his palms, humming off key to your favorite songs while he cooked food for you, tracing the curve of your shoulder blade when he thought you were asleep.

The gallery showing was his first major one. You'd watched him prepare for weeks. frames piling up near the door, muttered debates about lighting choices at 3 am. When the invitations finally arrived, he'd handed yours over, "You don't have to come," he'd said, but you knew he wanted you to be there.

You'd kissed the worry from his forehead and tucked the invitation into your wallet, where it stayed until the corners softened from handling.

Now, standing near a table with a champagne flute you hadn't touched, you watched him work the room. Hyunjin moved through the crowd like water, slipping effortlessly between conversations without ever seeming anchored to any one group.

His laugh carried over the murmur of guests, and you felt that familiar warmth curl behind your ribs. This was his element, even if he'd never admit it. The way people leaned in when he spoke, how their eyes flicked toward his hands when he gestured — he commanded attention without trying, and you loved him most like this, alive with his passion.

The girl approaching him now had been circling for a while. You'd noticed her earlier, lingering near his largest piece, her head tilted in a way that suggested admiration.

When she touched Hyunjin's elbow, you saw him startle slightly before turning with that polite smile he reserved for strangers.

You couldn't hear them over the gallery's din, but her body language was clear. fingers tucking hair behind her ear, the slight lean forward. Hyunjin nodded along, hands stuffed in his pockets, already scanning the room for an exit.

You didn’t move, not yet anyway, because part of you wanted to see how he’d handle it.

That’s when he saw you. His eyes flicked over her shoulder, and something in his face shifted, relief.

You stood from the table, weaving through the crowd, the girl hadn’t noticed you yet, too busy tilting her chin up at him, one hand now resting on her collarbone.

“...really think we should discuss your technique, over some coffee?” she was saying as you slid into place beside him, close enough that your hip brushed his.

Hyunjin exhaled, barely audible, as you laced your fingers through his. His palm was warm, slightly damp from nerves, and you squeezed once, “Oh, he’d love that,” you said, sweetly. The girl blinked, her smile freezing as you added, “I’ll come too, I’m his girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” he said, and you could hear the grin in his voice before you even looked towards him. “she's my muse.”

jisung — 'everywhere I go I keep her picture in my wallet'

"Jisung." You poked his shoulder with your socked foot from where you were sprawled across the couch. "I will perish."

He didn’t look up from his phone, thumb scrolling lazily. "Dramatic."

"No, listen—" You rolled onto your stomach, pressing your cheek against the cushions. "My stomach is eating itself."

This time, he glanced over, one eyebrow raised. "You just ate two hours ago."

"Snacks aren’t food," you said gravely.

Jisung sighed, tossing his phone onto the coffee table with a soft clatter. "Fine," he said, dragging the word out like it physically pained him. "But if I'm going out in the middle of the night, you're eating the weird gummy worms I pick out."

You grinned, kicking your legs against the couch cushions. "Deal."

The convenience store felt both too bright and eerily empty at 1 AM. Jisung grabbed a basket, tossing in the usual suspects, chips, chocolate, those inexplicably neon gummy worms, and went over to the counter to pay when the cashier leaned over the counter. "You again," she said, grinning. "Third time this week."

Jisung blinked, setting the basket on the counter "Uh, yeah."

she picked up the contents, scanning each one as she went on. "I mean, you could be here for the snacks or whatever ," she said, waving a hand, "or you could admit you keep showing up for the ambiance." Her grin widened. "And by ambiance, I mean me."

jisungs mouth gaped, "Oh no, no, I'm—Married. Very, extremely married." then he pulled out his wallet, flipping it to the clear plastic sleeve where a polaroid of both of you rested. one where you were kissing his cheek and he had a big, wide grin on his face, then pulled out his card to pay.

she blinked, her grin faltering for half a second before she leaned back, shrugging with exaggerated nonchalances as she took the card from his hand "Damn," she said, clicking her tongue. "Figures the cute ones are always taken."

The apartment was dark when he got back, you were still in your spot on the couch, waiting impatiently for him. "Finally"

Jisung let the door slam shut behind him, you barely had time to process the dramatic thud before he was crossing the room in three long strides, arms outstretched, the plastic bag dangling from one hand.

He crashed into you with the force of a man who’d just survived a warzone, his face buried in the crook of your neck before you could even ask what was wrong. “I got hit on,” he mumbled into your skin, voice muffled.

You blinked, arms frozen mid-air around him, the crinkling snack bag pressed awkwardly between your ribs. “...By who?”

“The cashier,” he hissed, His cheeks were still flushed, the tips of his ears pink like he’d sprinted home instead of walked. “you’re coming with me next time. No. More. Solo. Snack. Runs.”

felix — 'the perfect pair'

the first time Felix walked into the community kitchen, he nearly dropped an entire tray of freshly chopped carrots.

You'd been there six months already — long enough to know that the dented metal tray was older than both of you combined, and that the carrots were destined for a stew that would feed sixty. You lunged without thinking, catching the edge just as it tipped, fingertips brushing against his.

"Thanks," he said, his sleeves were already rolled up past his elbows, "I swear I'm usually better at carrying things."

Felix still drops things sometimes, never the carrots again, but last month it was a spoonful of cinnamon that poofed into a cloud across the counter. You laughed so hard your ribs ached, and he grinned like he'd meant to do it, like every little accident was just an excuse to hear you laugh.

Now, twelve months deep into this rhythm — Saturday mornings at the kitchen, Sunday afternoons tangled in his double bed, it's your little routine now.

This morning, he's leaning against the fridge, peeling labels off donated jam jars while humming off key. "Mrs. eom asked if we're doing the pumpkin soup again," he says, glancing at you. "Told her we'd have to check with the boss." He winks. You're not the boss. There is no boss. But this is Felix's favorite joke, his way of stitching you into the center of his stories, even when you're just scrubbing pans in the corner.

this new volunteer has been hovering around him all morning. You recognize the tilt of her head, she keeps finding reasons to step into his space, keeps finding reasons to strike up conversations, and he's too kind to turn her down on the get go.

she might've mistaked his kindness for something else though.

He's handing her a knife to chop chilis when she "accidentally" grazes his wrist. "You're always so patient with everyone," she says, he replies with a simple "thank you", polite as ever, but you could tell he was uncomfortable.

You don't move. Because Felix is already walking over to your station, he bumps his forehead lightly against your temple "Rescue me," he murmurs into your hair, and you can feel her stare burning holes in your back.

"Tell her yourself," you whisper, amused. you're already reaching for his hand, lacing your fingers through his. Felix exhales, relieved, before turning back to her with that easy smile.

"Oh! Almost forgot," he says brightly "This is my favorite person. The reason I never miss a Saturday."

And just like that, the room tilts back into place, Felix glowing like always, you beside him, and the quiet understanding that some things, like this kitchen, like his hand in yours, aren't up for grabs.

seungmin — 'I'd risk it all for you '

stadium lights blazed down, bright enough as if the sun was still up, turning the sweat on Seungmin’s skin into glitter. He wiped his forearm across his brow, smearing a streak of infield dirt in the process, and grinned at the roar of the crowd still thrumming through the stands. The mic in his hand was warm from being passed around, and the interviewer, was standing just a little too close. Her perfume was floral, aggressive.

"Kim Seungmin," she said, "Another incredible performance tonight. That last play — were you trying to give your fans a heart attack?"

Seungmin laughed, easy and practiced, the sound swallowed up by the noise around them. "Nah, just wanted to keep things interesting." He shrugged, adjusting the cap perched on his damp hair. The fabric of his jersey clung to his shoulders, heavy with sweat and adrenaline.

"Interesting is one word for it." She tilted her head, leaning in enough that the mic brushed his chest. "You’ve been on a hot streak this season. What’s driving you?"

Seungmin exhaled through his nose, a quick, amused breath. "Same thing as always," he said, gaze drifting past the interviewer's shoulder toward the stands. "Love of the game."

"That’s it? Just pure passion? No special someone in the stands tonight?"

Seungmin let the silence stretch just long enough for the tension to coil — then, he spoke again, "Actually," he said slowly, "yeah. My girlfriend’s here."

The interviewer blinked. The mic slipped a fraction in her grip.

The crowd erupted, a collective 'ohhh' rippling through the stands. Somewhere in the noise, someone wolf whistled. Seungmin didn’t react, just kept that easy, knowing smile, like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

"we've been together since college," he continued, voice carrying effortlessly over the din. The interviewer recovered quickly, professionalism snapping back into place, but her grip on the mic was tighter now.

“That’s sweet,” she said, and it wasn’t insincere, “Care to share more? The fans would love to hear.”

Seungmin’s gaze flicked back to where you were sitting — third baseline, five rows up, right where you always were, and his expression softened. “She hates when I talk about her in interviews,” he admitted, laughing under his breath. “But she’s the reason I don’t overthink pitches. And the reason I do stretch before games.”

The interviewer opened her mouth, probably to pivot back to safer baseball territory, but the cameraman beat her to it, swinging the lens abruptly toward the stands. The stadium screen flickered, then locked onto your face, blown up fifty feet tall for thirty thousand people to see.

Your lips parted in surprise, the nacho you’d been mid bite hovering forgotten in your hand. Seungmin’s chuckle echoed through the speakers, "There she is,"

A nearby fan elbowed you, grinning. "Girl, you’re famous now!" she stage whispered. Your cheeks burned, but you managed a small wave at the camera, awkward, The crowd ate it up, cooed like it was the cutest thing they’d ever seen.

On screen, Seungmin’s smile went crooked, like he was trying not to laugh at you. "See?" he told the interviewer, nodding toward the screen. "Told you she hates this." The mic caught the rasp in his voice, the one that only showed up when he was tired or fond. Tonight, it was both.

Jeongin — 'love struck girl, I'd tease her.'

"You would pick the one night we’re out of ice cream to confess you like me," Jeongin had said that night two years ago, his voice cracking halfway through the sentence. He’d been holding a half melted pint of strawberry between you like a peace offering, or maybe a shield.

The confession had been an accident, words slipping out during one of those aimless midnight drives where the radio played nothing but old love songs and static.

You’d blamed the music, blamed the summer heat, blamed the way he’d drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the beat.

But Jeongin, ever meticulous, had pulled into the nearest convenience store parking lot, then returned with the ice cream as if that solved anything. but it only got that confession out of you that was begging to crawl out of your throat days prior.

Now, standing in the crowded glow of your friends apartment, you watch Jeongin from across the room. He’s holding a drink he hasn’t sipped yet, nodding as some woman you don’t recognize — a friend of a friend, probably — talks animatedly about something.

The way she gestures tells you it’s a story, not small talk. Jeongin’s always been a good listener, the kind who leans in just enough to make people feel heard, but tonight there’s a stiffness in his shoulders you recognize.

Hyunjin bumps your elbow with a fresh beer. "You’re staring," he sing songs under his breath.

You take the bottle without looking. "I’m observing."

"Same thing." He follows your gaze, then snorts. "Oh, her. She’s new. Felix invited her. Something about crypto startups? I tuned out after 'blockchain.'"

The woman— crypto girl —leans closer to Jeongin, her hand brushing his sleeve as she laughs. You don’t move. Jeongin’s fingers twitch against his glass, then still.

Then, clear across the room "So… are you single?"

Hyunjin chokes on his drink.

Jeongin blinks, caught off guard. For a second, he looks like he might laugh it off, might deflect like he used to when strangers flirted with him at bars back when you were just friends. But then his gaze flicks to you and his posture shifts.

"No," he says, quieter than usual. "I’m engaged."

Crypto girl’s eyebrows shoot up. "Really? I wouldn’t have guessed."

Before she can say more, you’re crossing the room, setting your beer down on the table beside Jeongin with a clink. "What wouldn’t you have guessed?" you ask, voice light.

Jeongin exhales, something close to relief. His fingers find yours without hesitation "That I’m taken," he says, squeezing your hand.

Crypto girl’s smile falters. "Ah. My bad." She retreats with a half hearted salute, already scanning the room for someone else to talk to.

Jeongin watches her go, then turns to you, sheepish. "Sorry."

"You’re apologizing for existing attractively now?" you tease, bumping his shoulder.

He rolls his eyes, but his thumb traces circles over your knuckles. "Shut up."

a/n: I hope at least one person gets all the lyrical references I made in this or I might just cry