she/her | 20 | jilix biased | sub!skz enthusiast

29 posts

Palestine Masterlist

Palestine Masterlist 

Introduction to Palestine: 

Decolonize Palestine:

Palestine 101

Rainbow washing 

Frequently asked questions 

Myths 

IMEU (Institute for Middle East Understanding):

Quick Facts - The Palestinian Nakba 

The Nakba and Palestinian Refugees 

The Gaza Strip

The Palestinian catastrophe (Al-Nakba)

Al-Nakba (documentary)

The Hundred Years’ War on Palestine: A History of Settler Colonialism and Resistance, 1917-2017 (book)

The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine (book)

Nakba Day: What happened in Palestine in 1948? (Article)

The Nakba did not start or end in 1948 (Article)

Donations and charities: 

Al-Shabaka

Electronic Intifada 

Adalah Justice Project 

IMEU Fundraiser 

Medical Aid for Palestinians 

Palestine Children’s Relief Fund 

Addameer

Muslim Aid

Palestine Red Crescent

Gaza Mutual Aid Patreon

Books:

A New Critical Approach to the History of Palestine

The Idea of Israel: A History of Power and Knowledge

Hidden Histories: Palestine and the Eastern Mediterranean

The Balfour Declaration: Empire, the Mandate and Resistance in Palestine

Queer Palestine and the Empire of Critique

From Haven to Conquest: Readings in Zionism and the Palestine Problem until 1948

Captive Revolution - Palestinian Women’s Anti-Colonial Struggle within the Israeli Prison System

Palestine: A Four Thousand Year History

Except for Palestine: The Limits of Progressive Politics

Before Their Diaspora: A Photographic History of The Palestinians 1876-1948

The Battle for Justice in Palestine Paperback

Uncivil Rites: Palestine and the Limits of Academic Freedom

Palestine Rising: How I survived the 1948 Deir Yasin Massacre

The Transformation of Palestine: Essays on the Origin and Development of the Arab-Israeli Conflict

A Land Without a People: Israel, Transfer, and the Palestinians 1949-1996

The Iron Cage: The Story of the Palestinian Struggle for Statehood

A History of Modern Palestine: One Land, Two Peoples

Where Now for Palestine?: The Demise of the Two-State Solution

Terrorist Assemblages - Homonationalism in Queer Times

Militarization and Violence against Women in Conflict Zones in the Middle East

The one-state solution: A breakthrough for peace in the Israeli-Palestinian deadlock

The Persistence of the Palestinian Question: Essays on Zionism and the Palestinians

Fateful Triangle: The United States, Israel and the Palestinians

The False Prophets of Peace: Liberal Zionism and the Struggle for Palestine

Ten myths about Israel

Blaming the Victims: Spurious Scholarship and the Palestinian Question

Israel and its Palestinian Citizens - Ethnic Privileges in the Jewish State

Palestinians in Israel: Segregation, Discrimination and Democracy

Greater than the Sum of Our Parts: Feminism, Inter/Nationalism, and Palestine

Palestine Hijacked 

Palestinian Culture:

Mountain against the Sea: Essays on Palestinian Society and Culture

Palestinian Costume

Traditional Palestinian Costume: Origins and Evolution

Tatreez & Tea: Embroidery and Storytelling in the Palestinian Diaspora

Embroidering Identities: A Century of Palestinian Clothing (Oriental Institute Museum Publications)

The Palestinian Table (Authentic Palestinian Recipes)

Falastin: A Cookbook

Palestine on a Plate: Memories from My Mother’s Kitchen

Palestinian Social Customs and Traditions

Palestinian Culture before the Nakba

Tatreez & Tea (Website)

The Traditional Clothing of Palestine

The Palestinian thobe: A creative expression of national identity

Embroidering Identities:A Century of Palestinian Clothing

Palestine Traditional Costumes

Palestine Family 

Palestinian Costume

Encyclopedia of World Dress and Fashion, v5: Volume 5: Central and Southwest Asia

Tent Work in Palestine: A Record of Discovery and Adventure

Documentaries, Films, and Video Essays:

Jenin, Jenin

Born in Gaza

GAZA 

Wedding in Galilee 

Omar

5 Broken Cameras

OBAIDA

Indigeneity, Indigenous Liberation, and Settler Colonialism (not entirely about Palestine, but an important watch for indigenous struggles worldwide - including Palestine)

Edward Said - Reflections on Exile and Other Essays

Palestine Remix: 

AL NAKBA

Gaza Lives On

Gaza we are coming

Lost cities of Palestine 

Stories from the Intifada 

Last Shepherds of the Valley

Voices from Gaza

Muhammad Smiry

Najla Shawa

Nour Naim

Wael Al dahdouh

Motaz Azaiza

Ghassan Abu Sitta

Refaat Alareer (murdered by Israel - 12/7/2023. Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un)

Plestia Alaqad

Bisan Owda

Ebrahem Ateef

Mohammed Zaanoun

Doaa Mohammad

Hind Khoudary

Palestinian Voices, Organizations, and News 

Boycott Divest and Sanction (BDS)

Defense for Children in Palestine

Palestine Legal 

Palestine Action

Palestine Action US

United Nations relief and works for Palestinian refugees in the Middle East (UNRWA)

National Students for Justice in Palestine (SJP)

Times of Gaza

Middle East Eye

Middle East Monitor

Mohammed El-Kurd

Muna El-Kurd 

Electronic Intifada 

Dr. Yara Hawari 

Mariam Barghouti

Omar Ghraieb

Steven Salaita

Noura Erakat

The Palestinian Museum N.G.

Palestine Museum US

Artists for Palestine UK 

Eye on Palestine 

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More Posts from Heartzforjilix

10 months ago

— smudgeproof

sub!model!felix x dom!makeup artist!reader

 Smudgeproof
 Smudgeproof
 Smudgeproof

There’s a new lipstick that claims to be make-out-proof. You, with your makeup expertise, naturally decide to test it on your model boyfriend, Felix: except he’s the one that gets to wear it. 

🏷 gender neutral afab reader (they/them pronouns, no specifics), smut, fluff, some humor, established relationship, porn with barely any plot. 

🏷 petnames “mommy” and “baby girl,” unprotected sex, feminization kink, slight oral and hand fixation, marking, butt plug (felix using), thigh riding, fingering (felix receiving), overstimulation, male squirting, lots of teasing, voyeurism mention, no specifics about y/n’s physique. 

w/c: 8.8k

a/n: happy (hopefully not late) valentine’s day! to celebrate, i finally present to you the long overdue felix-gets-fucked fic! based on my thought piece, this concept has been on my mind ever since. i kept rewriting this fic but i drew the header art so fast LMAO icb i finished it!! otherwise, enjoy!

18+ only. minors do not interact.

 Smudgeproof

On slow days, you would often find yourself bored in the makeup store. Your boyfriend, Lee Felix, would probably be just as bored, sitting in the chair of his set. Your notifications were as empty as the barren shop.

After two aimless scrolls down your Instagram feed, you realized that you hadn’t posted anything recently and hadn’t texted Felix that day.

The afternoon sun brought in waves of humid air throughout the city, setting everyone back from a trip around the shops. You peered over at the conversation with your boyfriend as you thought about ways to kill time.

It wasn’t uncommon to go for a while without contacting each other. It had been years since you two became official, after all, and comfortable silence had become a given that you both simply indulged in. That didn’t take your mind off of the boredom, though, and your fingers itched to do something. They found Felix’s contact on your phone, bedazzled with an embarrassing nickname and profile picture. 

It stung to think that if you weren’t looking at his endearing profile, you would instead settle for some sort of creeping guilt of not posting anything on your social media page after a while. Either way, you shot him a message.

you: lix, wya? you: im bored as hell

Considering Felix’s work as a professional model, he would probably reply in less than ten minutes. You thought to turn your phone off and play with the freshly-cleaned makeup brushes on the makeup store’s vanity counter while waiting.

But this is Lee Felix, the sunshine of your days, and you didn’t have to wait any longer than two seconds.

lixie: Am at the shoot I told u about lixie: Bored too tbh LOL

Even if he typed in a silly way, you couldn’t help but love him.

He’d always been your go-to person to unwind and be yourself around. Starting as best friends gave you both a jumpstart to be comfortable around the other. People would say it worked a little too well especially since you two had become the most seriously unserious couple in the creative industry.

That fact made him understand you more than anyone else: you were both creatives. Your heart belonged to the artistic liberties of makeup and beauty, while his heart belonged to the ethereal realm of modeling and fashion. Your two hearts found each other, which was almost perfect for the adjacent businesses. He collaborated with you on makeup challenges. You came to his sets as his “preferred makeup artist.” He understood you whenever you ranted about stupid trends and declining engagement in your channels.

With that, could tell him about your uneventful day and equally uneventful social media pages, but you refrained from complaining more than dropping a passing mention.

you: idrk what to do there are no customers you: and i havent posted anything new you: but its not like theres much to do lixie: Well you’re the genius one here! lixie: Got art block or something?

The prompt response caught you off guard. Almost as if you have forgotten, this was Felix, and he always sensed whenever something was wrong.

As if he had some sort of radar or emotion detector, he always just knew how you were. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he had always been in the proximity of your face, observing your concentration as you put eyeliner on him before shooting. Maybe that connection stuck with him after years of being together, and it had remained strong to the point that he could feel it from miles away, staring emptily into the face of some other random MUA. 

Alas, you found yourself overthinking again. You would rather overthink about your relationship than your semi-abandoned creative efforts, though.

you: well i guess you can call it that. im just conscious since i havent really posted you: idk what to do next. ive done everything lixie: How about, “Boyfriend does my makeup drunk edition”? :D you: boring ! lixie: “Makeup tut but bf does my voiceover”? :D you: just because it got views doesnt mean its worth doing a fifth time >:(( lixie: I’m kidding LOL 

The scowl on your face reflected on the mirror sitting in front of you. You knew that if only Felix saw it right now, he would have lost his mind trying to turn it upside down.

You were right though. You two did everything.

My boyfriend does my makeup? Done, and he did an okay job at it. “The boy beat” makeup tutorial featuring Felix? Damn right he did. Boyfriend does my voiceover? It was so good that you guys did it four times and everyone fell in love with the deep timbre of his voice contrasted with his surprising amount of knowledge. Even if it was easy to collaborate with him, it was hard to create something new and unique. On the contrary, your audience fell in love with you two. It’s nice to watch a model and a stylist practice their art together.

Lost for ideas, you decided just to tease him instead.

lixie: So? No ideas in that pretty head? you: i got one thing in mind lixie: And what might that be? you: having you here you: in my arms you: to kiss up and call pretty :>

It was a thing that you usually did since you loved how he always reacted so pricelessly. He didn’t disappoint with his response, the notifications popping up not even half a minute after your last message.

lixie: HNDNSABNNDJS lixie: Don’t tease me unprompted!! lixie: ;__;

You’re so grateful that he’s always up to play with you.

You thought deeply — too deeply for a situation like this — and scanned the store shelves and storage room for ideas.

You wondered what he would be up to right now.

 Smudgeproof

Felix was stunned.

Done-up in the most expensive face and hairstyle he’s rocked to date, adorned with an unbuttoned suit jacket that one could only dream to wear, he was supposed to look like the stunner. His pecs were only barely hidden and the midsection of his upper body was almost entirely exposed.

Instead, he was the speechless one. He wasn’t shocked by the cold air seeping through his revealing outfit, but his hair raised at your messages.

Your teasing usually should not affect him this much, but today, it was something different. The whole day, all he could think about was you. His mind went to your first meeting. Earlier, he got deja vu as one of the stylists applied lipstick on him. It felt familiar, the feeling of a senior stylist’s hand resting on his face as a brush glided along the perimeter of his mouth. All it lacked was the stunning view of your face in particular. It reminded him of the first time you ever laid eyes on him, and it was to check on his eyeshadow. You stared at each other for too long, exchanged numbers after the shoot, and the rest was history.

He was pissed, to say the least, that you weren’t the assigned stylist for the shoot this time. Nothing could ever compare to the focused look you gave him as you fixed the corners of his mouth with the smooth swipe of your pinky finger.

He craved that touch again.

“Yo,” a dragged-out sigh whisked through the air. “You’ll catch a fly in your mouth if you keep that jaw open.”

Felix looked up from his phone to find Hyunjin, his best friend and one of the junior photographers on set, eyeing his reflection in the mirror. He had his bleached blond hair half-up, tied messily to complete his so-called “intern look.” Most of the senior directors and photographers on set confused him for a model.

“Am I interrupting some kinda internal monologue sesh?” Hyunjin smiled, leaning behind Felix’s chair, raising a brow at him through the reflection. 

“No, I just—”

“He’s thinking about Y/N again.” Jeongin, their other best friend, popped from behind the vanity, carrying Hyunjin’s abandoned camera. 

The two were interns at the studio. Both were very bored art students looking for a job to pass the time by. Jeongin was there to work as a personal assistant and was mistaken for a stylist considering his fashion sense. His behavior around set proved otherwise, though, since he spent the entire day prodding at everyone’s business.

Felix was no exception as a victim.

“Imagine flirting online,” Hyunjin chuckled while reaching for the camera. Jeongin handed it out to him, only to swing his arm back, teasing the older.

Jeongin dismissed the frown on Hyunjin’s face and fiddled with the camera. “Yeah, cut your significant other some slack, they must be busy at the store or something,” he added.

“Nah, they aren’t.”

Hyunjin snagged the camera back. “Editing a Youtube video?”

“That’s exactly why they messaged me. They asked for ideas for a new video.” Felix sat back and redirected his eyes back to the conversation on his phone. The other two slowly turned their heads to each other.

“Wow! Did you hear that, Innie? They messaged him!” Hyunjin yelped.

“Lix didn’t message first? Unheard of!” Jeongin gasped.

“Cut it out, overdramatic cunts.” The accent made the last word roll off Felix’s tongue in a heavy and aggressive accent. “I want to help them this once. Shoo. Leave me be.”

“Oh, why are you getting all worked up, man?” The younger placed his hands on Felix’s shoulders and wiggled them.

Actually — why was he getting all worked up? Everything seemed off: he wasn’t the type to get annoyed easily like that.

He would have defended himself, but he thought it over. Not only had he been unusually sentimental while getting ready, but even as the day started, he was already rolling off to a rough start. He barely got out of bed, reaching out to you from the side and asking for longer morning cuddles specifically from you. He had been so clingy all day that the silence and afternoon heat killed him from looking forward to anything else but you.

A discussion brewed between the menaces as Felix thought about it. “Innie, you know, he couldn’t even hit the poses right. The director felt bad because our bro didn’t seem into it.”

Felix’s cheeks flushed upon hearing that. “No way, Hyune,” the other replied.

Oh god, Felix thought.

He swatted embarrassing thoughts away from his head to not get teased any further by his own friends. His thoughts — and something else — were hindering him from doing anything physically. The poor boy couldn’t even shift in his seat from embarrassment. It’s not that he didn’t want to physically fidget, he just couldn’t. His entire body froze, but he also just could not move by any means. It would be uncomfortable for him, and it wasn’t just because the clothes restricted him.

Something underneath his clothes would shift too and pierce his body with shockwaves. Before that could, though, his phone vibrated before he did.

you: babe! you: had a breakthrough so big i said eureka out loud in the store [you sent a photo]

Felix immediately opened the notifications and observed the sent messages. He opened the photo even before it loaded. When it did, he nearly melted in his seat.

You supposedly sent him a picture of a product that you found. By the looks of it, you probably thought of doing a product review of it, but that wasn’t the first impression he got from the picture. The first thing he saw was your face, winking with a toothy grin, your beautiful hand holding the product up next to your cheek.

God, you were all sorts of stunning to him.

lixie: OMHJYGOD YOUre so pretty you: dont look at me, silly! you: look at this lipstick. its so funny

For a moment, he didn’t listen. His eyes were still fixated on everything from your expression, to your features, to the nails that you just got done holding up the product. As if he had gone stupid, he had to blink and shake his head before formulating a reply that made sense.

lixie: LMFAOOOO THE NAME you: its not the name baby lixie: WHAT SHADE COLOR IS THAT LMAOOO  you: the shade looks fine, look at the label! lixie: What’s it say you: the label claims its make-out proof lixie: ??!!! LOL

Of course, he didn’t make any sort of sense whatsoever. His two friends watched him frantically type away, barely being able to process anything from the mere sight of you.

“Bro’s deluded,” Jeongin whispered.

“Bro’s fucking horny,” Hyunjin commented, squinting at his friend.

you: you sound so funny baby you: anyway i was thinking i should review it you: but can you join me? i wanna try something

It felt like something broke inside of him. A shot of excitement ran through his system, hitting down until his core — oh shit that hurt.

He tried to twist his lower half again, fidgeting in his seat, but it grew harder for him to do so. With tears in his eyes, he jolted up, attempting to focus on the conversation.

lixie: Sure, what do you want me to do? lixie: Won’t you just do an application and wear test thing? you: mmm i guess u can say that you: but im making it a lil different lixie: How so?

The intrigue bit his tongue and Felix attempted to swallow it. The staff around him were wrapping up the shoot, pushing equipment back in their places, and some started to leave as soon as the director announced the last “cut.” He, however, was glued to the vanity chair, shaking in anticipation.

you: im gonna put it on you baby <3

Felix’s eyes widened.

It didn’t matter how many times you placed makeup on him, nor did it matter how many times he joined you in your antics. There were too many things going on in his head that toyed with his thought process and everything that came with it. He didn’t exactly know why, but a knot formed in his stomach. He grew nervous and just knew that you were up to something sinister.

lixie: But how are we gonna do the wear test? I already got my face done and half the day has passed, I’m even done w my part of the shoot you: you dont get it ??? lixie: I don’t get it!! you: ill put it on you when you get here. and were not just testing how long it wears regularly, were testing what the label says you: ill be there in 10mins love you baby

He sat back, looked up from his phone, and his gaze zeroed in on his reflection, attempting to focus on the thought. How would you conduct a different kind of wear test? In terms of makeup, a wear test would simply be to spend a full day with the product on and to see if it still holds its place at the end of it. It had already been well past afternoon by that time and it wasn’t like there were many other things to do that could budge the lipstick aside from dinner. He always trusted your genius, but he knew that there was more to this.

Felix blinked, once, twice, and then stared.

Were you…going to test if it was really make-out proof?

The world around him seemed to dim — it did, since the studio lights were turning off and the senior stylists urged Jeongin to wake the model up from his short-circuiting brain to change out of the clothes.

That is if Felix could still respond before the horniness consumed him.

lixie: Wait lixie: Don’t tell me lixie: DON’T TELL ME lixie: You’ll test it by putting it on me lixie: AND THEN MAKE OUT WITH ME?????? [Read 2:50 PM] lixie: Y/N!!! Answer me!!! [Delivered, unread 2:51 PM]

The cogs in his head accelerated before banging to a full stop, clinks and clanks ringing through his ears at his very slow realization.

“Congrats, smartypants, you figured it out.” Hyunjin scoffed from behind him.

“Dude—wait, hey! Have you been watching me the whole time?!”

“You should be more secretive,” Jeongin giggled. “Get those privacy screen protectors or something. Now we know what poor Y/N has to deal with every day.”

“And stop getting your thoughts tangled in horny next time you text,” Hyunjin elbowed the poor model boy, fiddling with his camera as if nothing happened. “Don’t worry. Your secrets and online PDA are safe with us.” 

Felix’s face was washed without color. His jaw hung open both at his friends’ antics and your devilish plans.

“I’m looking forward to that review,” Jeongin added before walking away, teasingly pushing Felix’s shoulder on the way out. “Not that I’ll use it or anything.”

The two friends left the set side-eyeing and giggling at Felix.

It wasn’t long before you pulled up to the studio to pick your boyfriend up.

“Hi, darling.” Felix’s greeting and nervous smile lit up the quiet air and darkness of your car. He got in the passenger seat and immediately leaned in to kiss your cheek.

He was trembling. 

You had to laugh. “Hey, babe. What’s got you shaken up?”

“Long day.”

“That’s it?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Long because of you,” he said, scrunching his nose. “Kept teasing me.”

“Aw, don’t sulk, silly.” You cooed at him, “Save the pout for later, baby. We’re going home.”

Maybe it was the combination of inhaling your expensive signature scent and hearing the sound of your voice again that made him tingle all over. Maybe it had to do with the curling corners of your mouth that gave Felix all the information he needed in the world. Maybe it was the fact that you held the back of his seat as the car reversed, and the action looked undeniably sexy. 

Felix lifted a leg to cross over the other, but it only ever made him look more uncomfortable throughout the entire car ride home. Though concerned, you didn’t point it out, and instead continued to drive.

His chest was heaving and he internally scolded himself for acting like a bitch in heat.

 Smudgeproof

The both of you arrived home sooner than expected.

The tunes that you played earlier in the car ride home stuck in Felix’s head. He wondered if the song choice of a sultry voice singing about “wants and needs” was deliberate. It was your playlist, and if you intended to include subliminal messaging, then it worked like a charm on him.

He had been worked out to the point he couldn’t face you. The moment he laid eyes on you again in your apartment’s living room, he shied away almost immediately.

You caught his averting gaze, though, and disallowed him from living it down. “Is there something on my face, baby?”

Baby. He could spend a lifetime just listening to you calling him that name. The way it sounded so natural coming from you made him melt. 

He also could not stop staring at your lips. You always wore a certain gloss no matter the occasion. Even if it was your signature, Felix couldn’t help but stare, and it didn’t make his situation any better. In fact, it got worse, and it felt like the straining in his pants could explode.

“Mm, ‘s nothing, Y/N.”

“You sure?” You prodded. “Your friends kept waving at me and they looked back at you earlier.”

“Ah, please don’t mind them.” He scoffed. “They were being cheeky cunts.”

“That’s a funny way to put it.”

“Anyway, how are we gonna do th-the…uh, the thing…?” Felix stammered, playing with his fingers instead of looking you in the eye.

“Oh, glad you mentioned it!” You hurriedly grabbed the three tiny boxes in your bag. “I got a bit excited over it. Look at this!”

There was nothing too remarkable about the boxes. They looked like basic products, but the huge bolded font on the product labels caught his eye. “It’s more of a stain or something. The label says it can survive five consecutive make-out sessions before a singular budge.”

“It’s…interesting, yeah.” Felix blinked. You chuckled, nodding at his reasonable reaction. “So…y-you’ll put that on me.”

“Yep.”

“And then we kiss.”

“Make-out,” you corrected. Your voice was clear and slightly stern, but the smile that formed on your face sent him in shivers.

The familiarity in your features contrasted with whatever stunts you were going to pull on him sent his head into a haze.

“Anything wrong with it?”

“No,” he shook his head.

“Lix, baby, just be clear with me.” You inched closer to him, bringing your hands to his plump freckle-spotted cheeks. “You don’t mind that I’ll record this and post it?”

“Of course, I don’t mind. I just…” Felix sighed.

“…Just curious, what are you planning to show in the video?”

“I’m gonna show the application, I’ll start by putting it on you.”

The heat rushed to Felix’s face as numerous thoughts clouded his mind as he visualized everything in his mind.

“We’re gonna kiss for a brief moment in the video, probably make out and do…whatever,” you winked shyly. “It’s only gonna be brief. Gotta keep it within community guidelines.”

One of your hands made its way down to his hip. You pulled him closer. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat from gulping back an otherwise embarrassing sound.

You had to wonder if he was hiding anything causing him discomfort there.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

Felix bit his lip. “A hundred percent sure.”

“If you don’t want—”

“I want…it,” he whispered under his breath. “I want you.”

He flashed a weak smile. He was incredibly excited, but he was losing composure and he didn’t exactly know why.

He was about to melt in your hands but you held him up and adjusted your set-up for the video with an equally beautiful smile.

Three, two, one, action.

The camera rolled and you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline surge through you. Impressively, you thought you would have lost your spark at content creation, but posing in front of the ring light felt refreshing.

“It’s been a long time coming y’all,” you waved, “but I’m back! And guess who I’m with!”

Felix stared at the camera for a moment, his eyes flicking back to you for a split second. It was his cue to wave as well.

“Ah, hi, everyone!”

“Still handsome and meek as always,” you teased. “He still has a bit of makeup on since he came from a shoot.”

Your hand ran down the side of his neck. You felt the goosebumps rise from his skin.

“Anyway, today I’ll be starting a series of videos covering weird products and their weird claims. We’re starting strong with this funky new liquid lipstick from…B.Me Cosmetics.”

Taking the tube out of its package, you examined it and showed it to the phone camera. You swatched a shade on the back of your hand. Differing from a bullet lip, it had a liquid formula that boasted a unique, pseudo-gloss satin finish. 

“It claims to be smudge-proof, make-out-proof, everything-proof. Can last five rounds of kissin’ and smoochin’ I assume.” You said many things that Felix didn’t even dare to process.

Felix simply watched your hands delicately hold the product. His gaze was fixated on your nails, fingers, and everything about you that wasn’t the lipstick.

“But oh no no, I’m not testing it on myself. Well, kinda, but Lixie over here is gonna be my test subject.” You swung an arm over Felix, dragging him down to the height of the phone, showing everyone his nervous yet precious face. He eyed up at you with what seemed to be hearts in his pupils.

“Let’s first see how this goes on, hmm?”

You walked a bit away to grab two chairs: one was velvety and comfortable, while the other was taller and had regular cushions. The first was the same chair your clients usually sat on, and the second was your working chair. You urged him to sit down, patting the seat as a signal.

The moment he sat down, Felix started trembling. His knees looked like they were about to give in and his thighs took a moment to settle onto the velvet.

“Everything alright?” You whispered.

He wordlessly nodded back at you. Unknown to you, though, he bit back a noise. He didn’t mind the sharp pulsing pain when he finally got the courage to look up fully, of course with the guidance of your thumb and index finger propping up his chin.

It felt like handling a little kitten in your hands.

“Which shade, which shade…” You took the other bottles out of the bold box packaging and waved them out in front of Felix’s lips. It either would have been a rosy nude color, a deep red, or a bright cherry pinkish-red.

You tapped the tube of the last color against your boyfriend’s bottom lip, watching his cheeks pout slightly at the action. You quietly settled on the cherry color, to Felix’s apparent delight.

“Would you look at that?” You cupped his face with one hand, holding the lipstick on your free one. You faced him towards the camera, relishing in the sight of his cheeks puffing up in your palm. “Call me biased or whatever, but his lips are some of the prettiest I’d ever seen.”

Before he could indulge in the praise though, you urged him to open his mouth. He didn’t prepare for any of this and not your next course of action.

You slotted the bottle in between Felix’s teeth and kept it in place even after unscrewing the applicator off. He bit slightly and carefully to keep the bottle in place without damaging it. If he were a nervous wreck then, he became overly anxious now. You, however, in full focus, took the applicator of the liquid lipstick and slid it along his top lip. The cold sensation of the new foreign product on his mouth made him squirm slightly, though you held him firmly in place with your hand.

“So fitting that his lips are shaped like a heart. He’s so kissable.” You smooched the air while cleaning up the perimeter of his lips, teasing him.

Wished I kissed you right now, huh? Felix could hear that in your voice and he let it echo in his pretty little head. Alas, he couldn’t retaliate nor speak back at all. He couldn’t even dip his head in embarrassment. Your eyes were trained on the brush you flicked, almost dismissive of your own flirting and it mismatched the smirk that adorned your mouth after teasing.

It was the exact kind of look he’s seen many times before. The exact look he fell in love with when you first met.

It’s the look he would get off to almost every night.

You finished off applying the lipstick and it was impressively smooth. You took the bottle from his teeth and sighed. The color made his mouth look irresistibly edible. It would take you three marathons and a trip to the moon to admit that you were starting to feel just as affected as Felix by the sight of his pouty mouth.

“Rub those pretty lips for me, baby.”

Only you could say those words to him the way that you do. Felix felt multiple urges rummaging through his system at once. He could almost cry from wanting to say something, to call out your name, to moan it, to whine and whimper, and melt in your arms as if nobody were watching. 

The eyes of the world were on him, though, and all he could do was comply. He rubbed his lips together and pouted them out with a smack.

“Good job, baby.” You rubbed his chin with your thumb. He felt fire surging within his heart.

He knew that you knew what you were doing. It was only you, after all, who knew how to push his buttons in the right places. Unlike Hyunjin nor Jeongin, it took you no effort and no risks to leave him a mentally jumbled mess; not agitated, but certainly needy.

You were still sticking to a mental script, though. “How does it feel? Chalky? Rough? Sticky…?”

“I-It’s smooth. Feels thin.” He felt his tongue almost twist in his mouth from trying to speak when he was physically weakening over you.

“Seems like a good formula,” you giggled.

He watched as you turned your back on him, explaining bits of beauty jargon that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. His vision seemed to blur as a need to satisfy the growing discomfort in his pants overwhelmed him. It all snapped away for a second when you switched the angle of your phone and pulled him up by his arms, leading him in front of the couch.

All of a sudden, you rubbed a circle around the base of his wrist. You looked up at him with eyes that demanded something from him. It was dark yet inviting as if he had just eyed down a wolf threatening to eat him whole.

The gesture was your signal that you wanted to fuck him then and there.

Felix finally didn’t have to keep to himself.

“Time to test how good it wears,” you smirked at him.

 Smudgeproof

Felix’s eyes were focused on yours. He didn’t move an inch as your fingers crawled from his jaw to his cheek. You glanced at your phone, propped up on the countertop, to check if it was recording. When you looked back, your eyes met Felix’s red lips.

You were so glad that you picked that shade. The makeup line released a ton of colors and your mind folded into itself when you realized how many there were. It was almost overwhelming to choose a shade for your boyfriend: you wanted to see him with a pinky nude on his lips, but you also thought the dark berry shade looked pretty.

As a trained makeup artist, you had a knack for figuring out which hues elevated which skin tones. Of all people, you knew Felix’s skin would match the slightly muted, pinkish cherry satin stain.

You should know this. You’ve seen his skin flush many times before, that would be more than enough to be familiar with the hues of his delicious skin.

You were the reason why he would constantly blush, after all. His skin would burn under your slightest touch, but it would flare up until his freckles darkened each time you held him down on your hips and called him pretty. His cheeks would turn as red as the tip of his cock every time you squeezed it lightly. 

Before you could think of any more, you tapped your boyfriend’s cheek. His face burned into a shade not far from the color of his lipstick.

“Are you sure you want to record this with me?” You asked, eyes scanning his face for second thoughts.

Felix almost forgot that you needed a clip of the both of you briefly kissing. He nodded after a second, confusion snapping into realization as you smiled at him. He seemed to be lost in thought, too: maybe he was nervous, maybe he was thinking of the same things you thought about. Either way, he simply answered with a smirk and the faintest giggle.

“Yeah. I’m game.”

You were on a mission to prove that this lip product could not budge after an intense make-out session. Now, you — and maybe Felix — wanted to see if it could survive intense sex, too.

All it took were two inches forward: you grabbed his hands dangling in front of you and closed in. Your noses touched each other, the skin bumping softly before your lips slotted against his in the smoothest kiss possible. To his surprise, you started gently. He expected you to crash against his mouth. He expected you to rummage through the product sitting on his mouth right away, to test its strength as a long-lasting piece of makeup, but you didn’t.

Maybe he wanted you to be rough. He wanted it.

You could tell by the whimper he choked up behind the kiss. That, and his hands roamed around your arms and sides, pulling you closer.

“Getting a little excited now, are we?” You purred, pulling your face away from his. He hesitated to break the kiss, inching his lips closer to yours even as you talked.

“Sorry, s-sorry. Got a little carried away.”

You wondered what got him to be so clingy and affectionate. You’re well aware of him being loving and tender, but it’s another thing to have him smitten while you’re doing nothing special.

Little did you know that to him, everything involving you is special. Even the texts you sent earlier and the ones you sent before. He couldn’t stop thinking about them; who wouldn’t, especially when you were being such a tease?

He finally pulled his head back. “Smooth,” he whispered.

You thought to tease him. “The lipstick?” 

“No,” Felix chuckled, “I meant you.”

Your hands traveled from up to his toned arms until one of them met the nape of his neck — his sensitive spot. You often called him a little kitten for enjoying being petted on that spot a little too much.

“So, did it rub off yet?” Your boyfriend managed to squeak, still affected by your antics.

His face was impossibly close to yours and you could feel the heat in his cheeks growing the more that he smiled at you. You stepped back to observe his face: apart from the blush on his cheeks, the lipstick was seemingly left unscathed. By the look on his face, he observed your lips, and there were no signs of product transferring. 

He also just wanted to kiss it again.

You raised an eyebrow at the camera and shrugged. “I guess it survived round one.”

“That was round one?” Felix mirrored the look you gave your phone. “I thought we call that first base.”

Your head whipped back to him. He simply smirked back, feigning an angel’s smile.

You’ve dated him for a long while, and while he had always been silly, he had never been this way in front of the camera. You wondered if the shoot he did — or the staff he was with — earlier had anything to do with a sudden ego boost.

“Now you’re bold, baby.”

The nickname caused Felix’s smirking eyes into wide ones, the excitement writing itself everywhere on his face.

“Just wanna do more with you,” he teased back. “Do more rounds, test how much removes.”

He puckered his lips and pouted. It was a juicy invitation that you couldn’t turn down. Instead, you took it with a kiss — a deep kiss, one that made you inhale and caught him off guard.

It was still gentle and velvety. It felt like you both tasted clouds and nothing was in between. The hand on the nape of his neck ran up to his hair and back down almost instinctively, making Felix shake. Unable to focus on both the sensation of a passionate kiss, an overwhelming urge to breathe and process the suddenness, and the general feeling of being petted, his hands swung to your chest and squeezed.

“Ah! Felix!” You whispered loudly against his mouth, almost moaning at the sensation.

“Sorry! Force of habit,” he said.

“Gotta keep it PG, baby, I’m posting this.” He nodded assuringly at your words but his hands were crucially still on your chest, threatening to squeeze again.

After realizing this, he immediately attempted to pull his hands back, an apology dripping on the tip of his tongue. Instead, you surprisingly threw your hands on his wrists, caging his hands in place.

If that didn’t surprise him enough, you leaned in close to his face and kissed him once more. It was fiery this time; he felt your tongue darting at him while your teeth nipped slightly at his bottom lip before you pulled away. He gasped louder than he should have.

You giggled at his shock and nuzzled your face on his neck. “Sorry. Reflex.”

“But mommy—” Felix froze, realizing what he had just said. He didn’t mean to say that.

All the cockiness he displayed earlier fizzled out into thin air. You could feel the heartbeat in his neck thumping against your lips. From his eyes fluttered shut to wide open ones, you could see the embarrassment wash over him.

Sure, you two were doing something intimate, kissing and groping in front of the camera. He knew and trusted you enough to edit it out, but the idea that footage would have existed of him calling you that nickname…scared him. The camera watched him, the microphone picked up his low voice, and on the off-chance that this moment makes the cut, thousands of people would have seen it. 

He’d gotten used to the idea that millions of people could pass by his face and body, but it’s different when he’s exposing a bit of himself that he only reserved for you — his “mommy.”

“Y/N… Shit, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t—”

“Oh baby, it’s okay.” You gave a reassuring look and a warm smile, shifting your position to hide his face away from the phone camera.

The pet name was his suggestion. The idea that you could hold this title as his dominant partner was something he never thought of telling you at first, but the moment he mentioned it, you indulged immediately. It was something so dear, so sweet, and soft, definitely making you less of an ominous presence to him in bed and more like a warm home he can return to. You loved it even if he didn’t expect you to.

Even while he’s embarrassed and fully vulnerable, he felt so safe, entrusted to the only one in his life that could take the title without judgment. 

“Call me that as much as you want. I won’t show it,” you whispered. Felix nodded but you didn’t miss the tears threatening to form in his eyes.

“Mommy…” He inevitably gave up and dipped his head in the crook of your neck. You petted the back of his head again and kissed the side of his head, calming him with hushes and soft hums.

Before he could melt at your warm embrace, you took a few steps back. Felix whined and hoped to hug you for longer, only to watch you press the button on your phone to stop the recording. You shut the phone off, looked back at him, and smiled with your eyes.

He always valued your respect for his boundaries and the fact that you always made his comfort your top priority.

“We’re not done,” you inched closer, “the lipstick’s still on there.”

Because if you two were going to fuck comfortably, you two were still going to fuck.

Taking his arms and pulling them towards you, you prompted him to wrap himself around you as your lips crashed against his. You held him by his waist — it was remarkably small, toned, and muscled but definitely made for your hands to take it.

With force, you hugged his waist and carried him slightly, pushing you both on the couch. You sat on it while he was essentially hovering over your figure, his hips just above your lap.

“Mommy—g-god,” Felix gasped, muffled by another nudge of your mouth.

As if your brain switched off, your hands started going on their own. One was trained on his hip and the other snaked up his side and cupped his face, making him tremble at the sudden yet soft movements.

You were focused on the kiss but you just knew he looked gorgeous.

Of all the clients you put makeup on, your boyfriend always turned out the prettiest. Maybe it’s because his eyes seemed to shine with certain shadows on them. Maybe it’s the way his freckles peek through the base products. In this case, maybe it was the plumpness of his lips that you loved, covered in a flattering shade of red. Maybe that’s what was doing it for you.

“You’re so cute, baby,” you said, pausing the kiss.

Felix pouted. The pigment on his lips accentuated the curves of his mouth. “Not as cute as mommy.”

“Hm, thank you. But you’re my cute baby.”

Sometimes, you wonder how you got this to be so vulnerable, so whipped for you. It didn’t take him that long to warm up to you with this side of him, a side he so dearly hid from the rest of the world. It’s like this doll was made for you.

“Mommy,” Felix dragged out a whimper as he called you by the title. “Making me needy.”

“Don’t get impatient baby boy,” you whispered, a kiss on his temple following your sweet words.

While rolling your hips onto his, you thought about it what you said. You thought back to the last night he fell into this extremely submissive role. He’d always been the one under you and you’ve always been the one in control, but during that one night — similar to this one — he shyly asked you to call him a certain pet name. You loved it, probably more than he did, and you figured he might want to hear you say it again.

“Or are you my baby girl for tonight?”

“Mommy!” Felix scolded. If his cheeks were already flushed, his entire face heated up with a warmth that you simply indulged in. His ears and the corners of his eyes lit up with a blush tone that complimented and accentuated the cherry color that lined his shy smile.

He enjoyed the pet name too much, and he seemed to be threatened with memories of the same night the moment you said it.

“What? Don’t want to be my baby girl? It’s okay if you—”

“I’m mommy’s girl! Yeah, I’m their baby girl!”

Almost all traces of bass in Felix’s voice left the moment he squealed his response to you. 

His eyebrows were slanting upwards like a needy puppy, his eyes sparkled as beads of tears sat on his eyelashes, and he wiggled his hips onto yours with a neediness you’ve seen many times before. He briefly whimpered again in a high pitch. 

Being called that for the first time was as special to him as it was to you. It still landed him punches to the gut every time you said it. You would wonder why he loved it even if he was incredibly comfortable in his masculinity.

Maybe it made sense like that, considering he was wearing makeup while sitting on your lap.

You kissed him again and praised him until he gave into the burning sensations he felt from your overwhelmingly smooth graces around his body. With fast swipes, you pulled his plain shirt over his head, only to clothe him again with nothing but the warm embrace of your arms.

He moaned, writhed, and whined, adjusting his position on your lap until his legs were slotted against one of your thighs. Once he found his balance, he rutted against your leg, letting out a sound that he couldn’t resist.

“Didn’t even undress you yet, I still have pants on, and you’re already riding me?” You smiled widely at him. Felix huffed, unable to think, inhaling so that he wouldn’t drool on your shirt.

Or your chest, now that you abandoned your top in a flash, leaving it even harder for him to contain himself.

You took his lips into yours again, this time licking and biting his sweet mouth, allowing his tongue to slide against yours. It was messy and sloppy, just the way he needed it. You wondered if he had been craving this for so long and just couldn’t tell you.

Nevertheless, the next step was to take the bottoms off of your lower half and his own, but he paused your hands from reaching onto his crotch.

“W-Want mommy’s off first,” he sighed. It sounded more like a question now that his voice was so high and his tone was so soft. He was far from the boy whose mouth went foul over his own best friends at work.

His head was far gone, you figured.

Felix helped you pull your pants down, careful not to disrupt the current position that you were both in, only slightly lifting yourself off the couch. He sighed once he saw you, bare and beautiful, rid of anything that kept him from being horny the entire day.

He wanted you so bad.

“Baby girl, tell me,” it was your turn to pause his hands from reaching you.

“Is something bothering you?”

“No…not really a-a bother…” He pursed his lips.

He figured to rip the bandaid off and just show you the source of his discomfort—or, as it seems, the source of his pleasure.

“Baby girl, you…”

He revealed a pastel pink lacy fabric covering his private area. He was wearing panties.

“I…I got them from a PR package…from th-that one underwear company…” Felix justified, stuttering from both extreme embarrassment and arousal.

“It was supposed to be yours b-but I…liked it so much…a-and I wanted to…”

You couldn’t help but notice the drool threatening to fall from his tongue, glossing his lips. Distracted, you didn’t kiss him. You licked his mouth and bit his bottom lip again. The blood under his skin rushed to color his lips, emphasizing the pink-colored stain.

As you bit his lip, your fingers found the band of his panties, toying with the pink lace before slipping under it. The flesh — rather, his cock — was hard and pulsing. Felix moaned. His chest heaved from being unable to process everything at once.

“Baby girl’s clit is so hard for me already.” You pecked his cheek and let him whine. “You’ve been needy since earlier?”

“Y-Yeah, but, ‘m…not finished.” He mumbled under his breath. “Got more…to show you.”

He pulled his panties fully down, allowing his cock to bounce up. You couldn’t help but notice something at the base, but your suspicions were confirmed when he led one of your hands to touch his ass.

“You wore a butt plug the whole day?”

Felix’s face flushed into a shade similar, if not deeper than the cherry red he wore on his lips. At your words, he felt like crumpling into himself. 

“It’s just for you. Thought y-you’d like it.”

All you could do in response was kiss him deeply and thrust your thigh up, hitting the plug deeper into his ass.

He moaned deliciously into the kiss and almost cried at the contact. It fucked with him — literally — the entire day and you made it all the better. Only that he had so little time to adjust before you gave him a dark look again.

“Mommy, what are you—”

He was shut up by you licking his mouth and your fingers filling up his hole.

“Your cunt’s so fucking wet, baby girl.” Your words left your system through gritted teeth, filtering your animalistic desire to ruin him even more than ever. “This pussy is mine and only mine.”

You bit his lip once more, sucking on the plump flesh before abandoning it. “Bet your toys can’t satisfy you as I do.”

“They d-don’t, mommy!” Felix was on the verge of tears, choking back sobs as your teeth found his jaw, peppering it with love bites lining his natural contour.

You started pumping your fingers up and down his ass, hitting his prostate with your fingertips over and over. “Can only take me inside your cunt.”

“Ah, god—fuck, mommy!” The delirious sounds escaping him as he scrambled to hold onto your body kept you going.

As if he noticed, he started grinding into the air next to your entrance. You took this as his usual sign that he wanted to please you too. Felix valued mutual pleasure and craved it as much as he craved the sloppy crashing of mouths on a couch.

“Take me like a good girl.” Your voice softened as you cooed. “Can you do it? Ride mommy’s fingers while fucking into me?”

He could only nod frantically, allowing the drool in his mouth to drop onto his cock. 

The lipstick probably looked so messy by now.

You held his cock, lengthy and hard, and squeezed it in your free hand. “This is mommy’s to play with.” 

Shoving it into your entrance, you curled your fingers deep onto Felix’s prostate, eliciting loud moans from either of you. Felix could scream from the sudden warmth enveloping his cock.

“Rub your clit against me,” you demanded, urging him to thrust his cock immediately. He complied only to start whining and crying out from the stimulation.

You leaned your head to the side and exposed your neck. With a subtle nod of your head, you invited him to bite your neck before his next thrust. Lightning bolts entered you when his teeth sunk into your skin for some semblance of comfort.

In turn, you kissed and sucked a spot on Felix’s shoulder. The biting sensation made him squirm away from you, but his noises only amplified when you latched onto a more sensitive spot above his freckled collarbone. It didn’t help that your fingers were practically exiting and entering his hole completely, filling and emptying him at a speed he almost couldn’t take.

The stimulation from all ends of his body caught up to him, release rumbling from his core up to his cock. He begged and pleaded and called your name multiple times as you did too. Felix readied for release but shocked himself when it came suddenly, almost without warning.

He started gushing just outside your entrance, the relief surging through his hips in waves: it had never happened to him before, but the slight amusement on his fucked-out face sent you over the edge too.

You came at the same time, your wetness coating the sides of your thighs and the cushions of the couch, the pool of both your juices mixing right under you.

It had to take you both several minutes to an hour of downtime before you both got up to clean. During that time, Felix held you close, trapping you in a warm cuddle.

“Y/N, I love you,” he whispered, his deep voice returning, calming you from your high.

You pressed one more kiss on his lips. “I love you too, Felix.”

 Smudgeproof

Aftercare had to be a non-negotiable after the scene you guys painted all over the living room.

You made sure to offer Felix the softest bubble bath, massaging and soothing every inch of his skin, scrubbing away at the residue of the new lipstick.

You both found out, just before the bath, that it barely survived at all. It still stained his lips a shade of red, and the stains of love bites that he left on you stuck for a long while, but the actual product budged possibly within the third round of kisses. It barely held on when you started biting him.

The bedroom was full of giggles and the shuffling of your bodies cuddling close to calm yourselves down. Felix shared how he couldn’t believe his horniness that day, and you teased that he was being a hormonal girl.

He whined at that, kissed you good night, and fell asleep while huddled close to your chest. You calmly played with your phone, quickly editing the footage and clipping out the moment that he slipped into submission.

That was for your eyes only.

You posted the video and muted the notifications, kissed his forehead good night, and fell asleep.

“Baby, baby girl…” Your voice, although hoarse and deep from the blissful sleep, woke your boyfriend up. The clock on your bedside table flashed 9:00 AM in bright red, but the light from your phone shone brighter. “Look at this!”

“Holy…Y/N, oh my god!” Every trace of sleepiness left Felix as he jumped out of bed. “The video blew up?!”

You sat up next to him, chuckling in disbelief. “Let’s see what people are saying.”

“Why does the suggested search bar have…”

Men marked up. Men with hickeys. Men whining. It was clear that the video affected your audience in more ways than one.

“Silly,” you giggled, sinking into your boyfriend’s embrace. “Wonder how this thing got through community guidelines.”

Felix pointed at a comment. “Help. Someone’s asking about washing the stains off.”

The both of you cuddled closer. As the sunlight shone through your curtains and hit your figures, it highlighted Felix’s honey skin and the cherry stains that failed to wash off in the shower.

You turned your head to his and smirked. “Should we film an update video? What about a part 2?”

 Smudgeproof

taglist: @toastyseungmo @hobihearteu @biddes-enthusiast @snow-pegasus @subby-kpop @myrandomthoughtsandhobbies @eggielix @hanniecheesecake @chrisbahng @laylasbunbunny @ppiri-bahng @he-they-heathen @chriscentric @svintsandghosts @sstarryoong

+ @imrllytootiredforthis @imsolovelylovely @beefis @sorikkung @lix-ables figured to tag since yall showed interest!

special thanks to @meivida, my ride or die, the big brain that inspired me to write this in the first place! they also took time out of their day to proofread it ^_^

thank you for reading ! consider reblogging and leaving feedback if you loved my work 💗 artwork and writing © ipegchangbin. no reposts and translations.


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10 months ago

part i: bodyguard!felix x reader

masterlist.

PART I ; PART II ; PART III ; PART IV ; PART V ; PART VI ; PART VII ; PART VIII ; PART IX ; FINAL PART.

( READ ON AO3. )

Your father hires an inconspicuous bodyguard to accompany you at school and supervise you at home. What seems like an innocuous change in routine eventually spirals into a forbidden romance that grows more passionate over the next decade.

Part I: Bodyguard!felix X Reader

Companion series to my sharing the bed one-shot. Follows the relationship between reader&felix from beginning to end. It will be a multi-part series.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: eventual smut. violence. parental abuse. situations of intense peril overall. forced proximity. enemies2lovers. angst with eventual happy ending.

-

One of your father’s disgruntled bodyguards shoves you for walking too slowly.  You have enough tenacity to glare at him when you stumble, but even at fourteen years old you are smart enough refrain from retaliation.   You know your father will not take your side as you are already in trouble for sneaking out last night.  You met with some school friends and attended a house party like a normal fourteen year old, a punishable offence because your life is anything but normal. 

You just hope this punishment is a physical one.  A few smacks might sting but you’ll get over it, whereas you don’t want to lose your already limited phone or computer privileges. 

You walk into your father’s office with the expectation you will be alone, so you stop short when you see the back of a stranger’s head. 

Your father’s guests are usually suited old men or pretty young women, not a beanie-wearing teenage boy.  He’s kicking his legs like he’s in an ice cream parlour and not in a chair across from one of the most powerful men in the country.  Your father is behind his desk, hands steepled and attention determinedly fixed on you.  Punishment time is the only time his attention is so rapt. 

The door closes behind you, the guard outside slamming it shut.  The boy in the chair looks over his shoulder at you.  He has a soft face, much too soft for a place like this, his cheeks sweetly freckled and mouth like a pretty pink bow.  He has dark eyes, his eyebrows the same shade of dark brown.  His hair has been dyed a strawberry blonde, bangs sweeping out from under the beanie.  He has to flick them out of his eyes as he looks you over.  

You stare at him.  A change in routine does not bode well for you and this is a massive change. 

The boy just smiles.  It is disarming in its sweetness and it petrifies you.  You know how to behave when an ugly brute glares at you but a pretty boy smiling is unnerving. 

Your father clears his throat.  You and the boy both look his way, the boy dropping his gaze in a subservient way while you glare. 

“Daughter,” your father says coolly.  He gestures to the free chair beside the boy. 

Some days, when you are feeling especially petulant or when your father is distracted with his phone even while meting out punishment, you will stomp your foot and refuse him.  Maybe it is your stunned bemusement, but today you oblige without argument. 

Your gaze drifts to the boy as you approach your seat.  The boy does not look at you.

He looks like a normal teenage boy, wearing a hoodie under a flannel and blue jeans ripped at the knee, but you know better.  There is always a flaw and this one is immediately jarring: his shoes are army regulation boots, the same as your father’s guards, albeit smaller.  You have no idea why he would need them.  He looks about your age and is a slender, delicate thing. 

“Sit,” your father says.   You realize you have standing there, staring.  You look at your father and obey, sinking into the other chair.  “Good.”  Your father folds his hands on his desk.  “My loving daughter,” he says dryly, “It has occurred to me that your present circumstances are not the most conducive to your development and well-being.”

You cannot help but scoff.  Talk about understatement of the century.   

The security teams?  The constant surveillance? The knowledge that your wealthy father has accrued so many enemies that you can barely step outside without feeling threatened?

The fact you desperately want something bad to happen, because at least it would be different than the bad in here? 

Your father just frowns.

“Don’t test my patience,” he says.  “Especially as I have constructed a compromise according to your whims, young lady.” 

Your brow furrows.  You have no idea where this is going but you know you won’t like it, because you never like it. 

“I only want what’s best for you,” your father says.  “You’re my daughter, after all.  My only child and my only heir.  I want you protected but I want you capable, and you can’t be expected to thrive with the company of my men constantly surrounding you.” 

Your heart kicks up with hope even while your brain knows better.  Your father is not a generous man and he is clever with his words.  There is a reason he has reached the heights he has reached.  No one is better than your father and your father settles for no less than the best in turn. 

You are an agonizing disappointment, but you lash out because you would be a disappointment regardless.  Your father does not want a human daughter but a plastic doll that he can lock away until it has use, at which point he expects unending gratitude for your very existence.    

This might sound like a concession of freedom but you know him better than that.  The vice is tightening, not loosening.  You will never be free. 

“I have a gift for you,” your father says.  “This is Felix.” 

You and the boy, Felix, look at each other.  Felix smiles again.  He has the audacity to wave at you, a little salute and cutesy tip of the head. 

Your nostrils flare with a sharp intake of breath.  You look at your father. 

“What is this?” you ask, so much wrong with this scenario that you don’t know where to start.

Your father smiles for the first time since you walked in the room.  He needs to be in the position of highest power and that is obtained through making everyone else small.  The more visibly uncomfortable you are, the more at ease he feels.  He slouches comfortably in his big chair as he stares you down.  You feel trapped in the little seat across his desk.    

“This,” your father says, “is your new bodyguard.” 

You look at Felix again.  He is once more looking at your father like an obedient little puppy.  It’s for the best as you are certain your expression is betraying every single thought.  You are angry, confused, frightened.  The confusion worsens your other emotions. 

“Bodyguard,” you repeat.  “He looks like he’s twelve.” 

“I’m fourteen,” Felix says, startling you with a deep voice that does not remotely match his face.  The rounder sounds are accented with an Australian twang.   “Same as you.” 

You look at each other again.  You hide your confusion under a piercing glare.  Felix draws his mouth into a flat line, not quite smiling, not quite frowning.   He taps his fingers on the arm of the chair, a mismatched rhythm, some song only he can hear.   His leg bounces. 

You look at your father. 

“Fourteen,” you say.  “And short.  And skinny.  Look at him!  I could throw him out a window!”

“You could try,” your father says, drole.  “You wouldn’t succeed.  Oh, hush.”  He swipes a hand through the air when you open your mouth to speak again.  “Felix is more than competent, believe me.”  

Your father would not hire a second rate bodyguard, but there is simply no way this Felix kid is good for anything.  You just can’t believe it.  This is a test of some kind, maybe a mind game. 

Your hackles are up and they won’t come down.  Felix flicks some hair out of his eyes and the motion makes you jump.  He doesn’t comment.  He clears his throat and sits a little straighter, looking like every goody-two-shoes keener you ever gave a sneer. 

“You will no longer require a full security detail,” your father says.  “Not at home or at school.  No where, barring certain occasions under my discretion.”   

This has your heart racing again.  Currently, your father has guards posted in several places around your school.  No one but the school administrators know they are for you, but that doesn’t matter because you know.  You know they are not general security, that they are specifically watching your every move.  If you skip a meal or eat too much, they know.  If you talk to one person and not another, they know.  If you forget to do homework or flunk a test, they know.  If you put on more make-up or roll up your skirt, they know.  If you fall, if you laugh, if you flirt, if you breathe a little too hard, they know, and they report it all back to your father. 

It doesn’t end there.  They keep you on a schedule for your “protection” and if you stray from that agenda, they are on you.  That means no chatting too long after class, no extended bathroom breaks, no stopping to smell a fucking flower.  In the car, out the car, through the doors, at your seat, at your locker, upstairs, downstairs, fuck, fuck, fuck.  How you’ve lasted this long, not even you know. 

You spend all day suffocating under the extension of your father’s eyes, then you return home, flanked by bodyguards, only to be stuck with supervision until you are finally permitted to go to bed.  Naturally, this is the easiest time to escape so you are in the habit of breaking out at night.  You’re good at it too.  Most nights you move without any detection, having memorized all the chinks in the mansion’s high-tech security armor.  Last night was the result of some bad luck. 

Now you are here, your heart racing, your breath catching. 

It must be a trick.  You look at Felix then your father, trying to hide your eagerness and your suspicion. 

“In exchange, you will have Felix,” your father says.  “He will attend school with you as a classmate.  He is in all your classes and extra-curriculars.  You are to keep him with you at all times of day.  He will accompany you everywhere at all times of day.”  Your father leans in.  “Do you understand that?  At all times of day.”   

It does not sound too different from the security team other than the obvious fact there is only one of Felix.  Even if Felix is the most skilled bodyguard in the world, he is still just one person.   It seems too good to be true so it must be.   Your father is waiting until you are comfortable so he can rip the rug out from under you, to put you in your place, which is flat on your back like a stupid, helpless, needy baby.    

You will not give him the satisfaction.  Curtly, you say, “I understand.”

“Good,” your father says.  “I’m having a new bed installed in your bedroom as we speak.  It should be ample space for two people without your privacy being overly encroached.  When you get home, you will clear a space for Felix to move his things into your room.” 

Despite your effort to remain neutral, obvious surprise blinks across your face. 

“Wait, what?” you ask, darting forward in your seat.  “What are you talking about?”

Your father tips his head as if perplexed with your outburst. 

“Did you think you were getting away with something?” he asks.  “Constantly sneaking out at night, evading my men.  Do you know every time you pull a childish stunt like that, it endangers me and my business just as much as you?”

Your anger bubbles to the surface as quickly as his, cold laughter punching out of you as you say, “Oh! Your business!  Of fucking course!”

“Don’t use vulgar language with me, child!”

“Don’t call me a child!” you snap back with as much fervour.  “I’m fourteen years old!  I’m not a little kid and I don’t need some other idiot kid babysitting me!  I don’t need anyone fucking watching me!” 

Felix is sitting ramrod straight, his eyes flicking back and forth between you and your father.  He says nothing.  He just sniffs and scratches a little circle on the exposed skin of his knee. 

“You are my daughter, this is my house, and I will do with both as I please,” your father says. 

“Then maybe I don’t want to be in this house!” you shout. 

“You want to leave?” your father asks.  He smacks a vicious hand down on his desk, rattling his computer.  “Go ahead.  Pick yourself up and walk out that door.  Where are you going to go from here?  You have no money and no skills and no protection.  See how long it takes someone to pick you up off the street.  You don’t want to be my daughter?  You want me to ignore you when they put a gun to your head?  The least they will do is kill you, you stupid little thing.  But go on, since you’re so wise and brave and all grown-up.  Walk out that door.  I dare you.”      

You sit on the very edge of your seat, your hands balled into fists.  You long to swing them at his smug face but you can only sit there, vibrating with rage. 

“Do you have something more to say?” your father asks. 

You kick his desk, the adrenaline forcing it out of you.  He smacks a mug and it smashes on the floor.  Felix still does not react, though his gaze does linger on the broken mug. 

“What about him!” you shriek, pointing at Felix.  It draws his attention back to you, his eyebrow lifting at your pointed finger.  “You’re going to leave me alone with a boy?  In bed?”  You imbue this exclamation with all the suggestive horror you can.  “I can’t share a room with a boy!  What if he’s a pervert!   What if he takes pictures of me!  What if he rapes me!  You really trust some random boy to be alone with me?!”

The silence that follows is somehow more shrill than the yelling.  Your father stares at you, resolutely focussed with such a cold glare that you shiver. 

Felix shuffles in his seat.  His mouth opens and he looks contemplative, weighing his words, but your father speaks before he can. 

“Felix,” he says, “put your hand on the desk.” 

Felix delays only seconds, more surprised by the order than reluctant.  He obediently rests his hand on the desk, palm facing up. 

Without looking away from you, your father grabs that hand and flips it over.  Felix jerks, his feet planting, but he manages to restrain whatever instinct rattled him.  He looks at his hand, at where your father pins it to the wood. 

You look there too, fuming, then you look at your father.  He is still glaring at you, even when he reaches into his desk.  Your brow furrows when he retrieves an enveloper opener, a sleek little knife, shiny and sharp.  He smacks it onto the table beside Felix’s hand.  It makes you jump.    

Felix just looks at the knife, tipping his head as if only mildly curious.   

“Felix,” your father says. “Pick up that knife.”  He leans back in his desk chair and crosses his arms, his expression bland and uncaring as he looks at you.  You shake less from fury than fear, looking from your father to Felix. 

Felix picks up the knife with his free hand.  He looks at it, his expression revealing nothing. 

“Thank you,” your father says. 

He has not looked away from you even once, asserting his knowledge that Felix will obey without his supervision.  You try to be as steadfast as him.  You act like you couldn’t care less about the unknown boy and his freckles and beanie.  This is between you and your father.  You glare just as fiercely.  

“Now, Felix,” your father says, “I am going to count down from three, then you are going to drive that knife into your hand.  All the way through to the desk.  I trust you know the spot that will do the least lasting damage.” 

Your gaze whips from your father to Felix, staring at him wide-eyed as the stupid boy doesn’t even flinch.  He just turns the knife over.  His brow briefly pinches as he rests the tip of the knife against a soft spot on the back of his hand. 

Your horrified brain is already several paces ahead, picturing his bloodied hand pinned to the wooden desk.  You taste bile and it is only partially for the gore.  The rest is for the fact Felix does nothing more than blink at his hand. 

“Three,” your father says.  “Two.” 

You scream, “Stop!” at the same your father says, “One.”

You tackle Felix.  The adrenaline flies out of you the same as that kick.  The knife clatters to the desk and both your chairs fly out from under you. 

Felix is fast.  He flips you around so he takes the brunt of the fall, your head pillowing on his stomach when you land in a tangled heap on the floor.  His beanie falls off when his head hits the ground.  He barely winces, looking down at you. 

You stare back at him, breathing hard.

“Are you fucking insane?” you ask.  Tears fill your eyes, much to your horror.  You try to suck them in because there is nothing you hate more than crying in front of your father.   You don’t even know what is prompting the tears.  Maybe it’s the forced recollection of how thoroughly his guards have invaded your life, the revelation that you will be forced to share every living moment with another intruder, or the fact he almost maimed a fourteen year old boy just to make a point. 

Or, maybe, the fact you fell for it like you always do.  Just a stupid little girl, high in her emotions, vulnerable and weak and in need of intervention. 

You push away from Felix, directing all your emotions at him. 

“You’re a fucking lunatic,” you say, spitting when you talk.  “What did you think you were doing?  Freak.  Do you think you’re brave?  You’re an idiot.”

Felix props himself up on his elbows, just staring back at you.  His gaze flicks up when your father stands.  That awful man circles the desk to look down at you. 

You refuse to look up.  You wipe your arm under your nose.  Tears blur your vision.

“Felix,” your father says, “there is a car waiting outside.  Take my daughter home.  She is not to leave the house tonight.” 

You wrench your arm away when Felix tries to help you up.  He says nothing to your glare but at least he’s smart enough not to smile again.  He gets up and dusts off his pants, then retrieves his beanie.   You clamber to your feet and march toward the door without looking back or waiting.  Only when your hand is on the doorknob does your father call your name. 

You freeze, wanting so badly to ignore him and storm outside, but once the coldness settles in your veins you cannot move. 

“Come here,” your father says.  As if under a spell, you can only move when he demands it.  You turn, facing him as he approaches.   You hold still, your eyes full of tears and fists curled at your side. 

Your father walks up and swiftly strikes you across the face.  Tears spill over and you grab your cheek, heaving with frightened breath as your useless new bodyguard just stands there and watches. 

Your father sighs. 

“You’ll learn,” he says.  “One way or another.  If I have to chip at you with an axe until you take my shape, I’ll do it.  You’ll thank me one day.  Felix.  Take her home.  Now.” 

You let Felix take your arm and guide you out of the room, too drained to fight him.   

-

You refuse to be accommodating.  If you’re unhappy then you will make Felix unhappy too, and if Felix is unhappy then maybe he will leave.  Then your father will be unhappy and you finally won’t be.     

You glare at the massive new bed taking up space in your room.  It is still a big room otherwise, with plenty of space for two people, but your things are spread out everywhere and you have no intention of moving them.  Instead, you empty out a single bedside drawer and point to it. 

“There,” you say.  “That’s yours.”

Felix is standing in the bedroom doorway wearing a backpack.  He looks around the room, not sneering at its lacey, ivory princess-ness but not looking too enamoured either.  He is passive as ever, quietly receiving his surroundings.  He closes the door behind himself and shrugs the backpack down to the crease of his elbow. 

“Kk,” he says.  He puts his backpack on the floor by the bed then takes off his beanie and puts it in the drawer.  He sits on the edge of the bed, hands folded in his lap.  He stares at the wall. 

What a weirdo. 

You stare at him until he looks at you, then you scoff and roll your eyes.  You dump your things on your desk and stalk over to your private bathroom door.   

“Can I go pee without your supervision, or do you need to hold my hand?” you ask sarcastically. 

“I don’t need to,” Felix says, “but, uhhh, I guess I can if you need help.  But if you have a problem with doing it by yourself then we should probably take you to a doctor.  I know first aid but I can’t really help with incontinence or like the opposite. Lol.” 

He says the word lol out loud, a single grating syllable.  You do not dignify his weird humour with a response.  You stomp into your bathroom and slam the door shut.   

There are bars on the bathroom window now.  You grab the nearest bottle of soap and chuck it there, furious when tears spring back to your eyes.  You feel violated even in your privacy, glaring at those bars as you shower and wash away the day. 

You look at your reflection in the mirror, touching where your cheek feels tender from your father’s strike.  He usually doesn’t hit your face or anywhere someone could see swelling or a cut.  You suppose today’s slap was more personal than strategic.

You put on a thick sweatshirt and sweatpants.  When you step back into your room, the weirdo is standing at the window with his hands behind his back.  He is wearing just his ripped jeans and a t-shirt, plus those ugly army boots.  He looks at you when you open the door, giving you a brief assessing stare before he smiles. 

It would disarm someone more naïve.  You just glare. 

“Where are your things?” you ask. 

He tips his head like an inquisitive cat.  “Huh?” he asks.

“Your things,” you say venomously.  “Aren’t you moving them in here?” 

“Uh, I did,” he says.  He turns and points to his side of the bed.  “You gave me a drawer, remember?”

This kid unpacked a beanie. 

Maybe it’s a good sign he isn’t fully moving in.  Maybe this whole charade is just your father threatening you.  He will torture you with this invader until he thinks you have learned a lesson, then things will go back to normal.  Felix probably isn’t even a proper bodyguard, and how could he be?  A skinny, pretty fourteen year old boy?  He’s probably an actor or model or something. 

You give him a derisive smirk and shove past him.  He just shrugs and approaches the bathroom door, pausing before entering.  He looks back at you.

“Don’t go anywhere, yeah?” he says, then walks into the bathroom and closes the door. 

You exhale sharply.  You had no intention of going anywhere, honestly too exhausted to do anything but putter around on the computer, but fuck this kid.  He’s your father’s paid actor or some other nonsense, so who does he think he is to give you any orders? 

You storm out of the room with the intention of marching around outside, but you stumble when you enter the upstairs corridor.  

The huge house is eery in its silence.  You shudder as you look around.  

Even when your father is not home, the security team is here.  Someone is always awake, at least one person keeping guard in the corridor, the rest of them scattered in the house and guest house.  But they’re gone.  They’re all genuinely gone.  And because it is late evening, all the housekeepers and cleaners are gone too.  You have not been in a house this empty your entire life.  It feels uncanny, ghostly even.  It completely halts your half-baked plan to leave, not that you planned on going much further than the pool-house.

You stand still, suspended in the unfamiliar emptiness.    

“Whatcha doin’?”  Felix’s freaky deep voice is suddenly right beside you.  You jump away from with a startled squeak.  He just stands there, his mouth in that stupid flat line, his shaggy blonde hair bouncing when he tips his head. 

“Nothing,” you snap, annoyed that he scared you.  “I’m just going to the kitchen for a snack.  Is that against the fucking law now?”    

“It’s not really healthy to eat this late at night,” Felix says, “but it’s not illegal.  That would be weird.”

“I hate you,” you say.  His even temperament has been driving you insane, so it is satisfying to see a flicker of genuine surprise on his face.  “Just leave me alone.” 

“Sorry,” he says, recovering quickly.  His voice is steady.  “Can’t do that.  Sort of my job, you know?”

You roll your eyes then turn and stomp all the way down the stairs.  Felix trails behind you without protest, not making much noise despite the boots but he is impossible to ignore regardless. 

You go to the kitchen and open the fridge.  You aren’t hungry but you feel like you have to eat something now just to prove a point.  

Felix ambles up to the counter and perches himself on a stool.  You look over your shoulder at him.  He waves. 

“I’m not making you anything,” you snap. 

“That’s fine.”  He folds his hand on the counter.  “I’m not hungry.  Thank you.” 

You reach into the fridge and grab an eggplant out of the produce drawer.  It is a ridiculous response, but you decide to out-weird the weirdo, making eye contact as you bite in the raw eggplant.  You try to hide your displeasure, chewing the thick vegetable slowly.  Felix tips his head very far then straightens.  His eyes narrow. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s toxic,” he says. 

You stop chewing. 

“Yeah,” he says.  “Eggplant, yeah.  I think when it’s raw it’s like not good for you or something?  I think there’s like a chemical in it.  Maybe it’s only if you eat a lot of it, uhhh, I don’t know.  Just in case, I wouldn’t eat it like that if I were you.” 

You stare at him with a chunk of raw eggplant still on your tongue.  He could be bluffing.  He could be playing mind games.  He could be telling the truth, since he delivered each sentence so uncertainly.  Maybe he’s just bad at mind games.  You’re good at them.  You’ve been playing them since you were a child, so you just stare him down, swallow the eggplant, then take another bite. 

His brow furrows.  You are pretty sure your displeasure is a little more obvious now, your mouth partially open as you chew.   Felix did not balk at stabbing his own hand but he looks very scandalized right now.   You consider it a success. 

“Stop it,” Felix says. 

You take another bite, ripping into it with a ferocious tear. 

“What are you doing?” he asks.  “What? Are you trying to commit suicide by eggplant?”

You just shrug, chewing with your mouth wide open now.   His stool scrapes the ground and you brace yourself, shuffling in the opposite direction when he circles the kitchen island. 

“Spit it out,” he says. 

“No,” you say, spitting eggplant as you say it.  You very nearly choke. 

“Seriously,” Felix says.  “This isn’t funny.” 

You chew obnoxiously big in his direction and he pounces, smoothly intercepting your escape.   He cages you in against the counter, blocking you when you try to move. You drop the rest of the eggplant and push at him, dribbling mushy vegetable and cursing through your mouthful. 

“Spit. It. Out,” he says, putting his hand under your mouth like a mother to a baby.  You shove that hand away, then try to shove his face away.  He clearly doesn’t want to get too physical with you, but eventually he grabs your chin and holds you still, your face pinched in his hand.   You stare at him, breathing hard through your nose.  “Stop it,” he says. 

The house is empty.  The house is genuinely, seriously, completely empty.   Your father trusts Felix that much. 

Who is this fucking kid? 

You spit the eggplant at him.  It spatters on his shirt and wins you an eye roll.  It’s the first expression from him to make you smile. 

“Bed time,” he says, stepping back to brush the mess off his shirt. 

You cross your arms and lean against the counter.  “No,” you say. 

“No?” he asks.  His deep voice fractures with a higher-pitched sound of surprise.   “Why not?” 

Because you hate your father and everything he puts you through.  Because petty victories are your only victories.  Because there is something seriously wrong with Felix if this is his life situation, and there is something seriously wrong with you for the same reason. 

So you shrug.  “Make me,” you say. 

There is a beat of silence.

Then the world is upside down because Felix picks you up and slings you over his shoulder.  You cry out, slapping his back as he marches to the stairs.  Where is he even hiding this strength? 

“Put me down!”  You pound on his backside while he carries you up the stairs.  “When my father hears about this—”

He puts you down on the landing, swinging up a step to afford him an extra foot of height over you.  He holds your wrist in his hand and looks at you very seriously. 

“What?” he asks.  “When he hears about me doing my job?” 

You try to tug your hand back but Felix holds it tight.

“Are you serious right now?” you ask.  You continue to squirm your hand in his grip.  “Who the fuck are you?  What do you even get out of this?” 

“What do you get out of this - this - everything?” he asks.  

“I get my life,” you snap.  “In pieces and only for a little bit, but mine.”

“Me too,” he says. 

A breathless silence follows.  You realize you are holding his hand, having twisted and turned so much that he clasped your fingers with his.   You both look there then at each other.  You abruptly let go. 

“Can we go to bed?”  Felix asks, softening his voice.  “Please.” 

Your lower lip wobbles.  You look at the stain on his shirt.  You think about his hand on that desk. 

“And what about my other question?” you ask. 

He tips his head again, but his expression is no longer neutral.  He wears his confusion openly, briefly but substantially. 

“What?” he asks. 

“My other question,” you say, blinking back your tears.  “Who are you?” 

“You tell me first,” he says.  “Who are you?” 

It’s easier to fight and scream than plainly express yourself.  No one ever listens, so you are not practiced.  You have Felix’s undivided attention but it suddenly feels like too much.  You do not have it in you to glare anymore.  You meet his pained gaze with your own and join him on the next step. 

“I’m tired,” you say.  “Let’s go to bed.” 

He goes to check the security system while you get ready for bed.  You are already nestled under the covers, shivering despite the thick layers because the house sounds so quiet and you are honestly scared.  You jump when the door opens and Felix enters, your eyes meeting in the dim light.  He looks away first, going about his own routine.  You turn your back to him. 

The bed is big but you still feel it dip when he gets inside.  You look over your shoulder.  He is laying on his back with his eyes closed.  He is clearly still awake but the semblance of sleep accentuates the natural innocence of his face.  You have seen the flicker of a few deeper emotions, none of them childish, but he looks his age while laying there. 

His eyes open.  He glances at you.  You wonder what you look like to him. 

“Good night,” he says, shattering the terrifying silence. 

You don’t argue it.  You just nod then turn away, closing your eyes, letting the sound of his breathing lull you to sleep faster than usual. 


Tags :
10 months ago

the same but different | the threesome series ; skz ; han/reader/felix

masterlist.

threesome series part 3/4.

You grew up with Felix and Jisung.  Your definition of normal has always been unique, considering Felix is a faerie and magically connected to Jisung.  So even though you are dating Jisung, when Felix tells you he needs to marry to keep up appearences in the faerie court, you see no reason to say no…

The Same But Different | The Threesome Series ; Skz ; Han/reader/felix
The Same But Different | The Threesome Series ; Skz ; Han/reader/felix

pairing: han jisung/reader/lee felix content info: sexual content. threesome. faerie au. this is an almost 16k word read. one day i will meet my maker and have to atone for that. warning for some ambiguous motivations plus general freaky faerie and supernatural stuff. felix and jisung have a magical connection, reader does not know the details but it seems they can physically feel each other's reactions and urges and they do a lot of the same things in an uncanny way. there is a 'consummation ritual' that involves being watched but reader is clever about it.

:)

-

Autumnal flurries follow Han Jisung everywhere, little tornadoes of red-and-gold kicking up an elemental fuss wherever he steps. It might be a remnant of his time with the faerie folk, or maybe a coincidence, or maybe he is such a blustery font of chaos that he is simply kicking up wind storms on his own. 

He totters into the café with his usual trail of leaves, much to the displeasure of the bus boy who follows with a broom.  The wind gets restless at the window.  It throws itself against the pane with a heavy, reverberating thunder as if nature is knocking in pursuit of Jisung’s attention.  You watch a few pine cones hurl themselves at the glass before everything settles down on its own. 

Jisung pays it no mind.  He slides into the booth across from you, heaving a big dramatic breath. 

“Good afternoon,” you say, amused with your boyfriend’s theatrics.  They are as constant as his flurries.   

“Yo, is it, ‘cause ah, HAHA—I’ve been having a day.”  He thunks his head on the back of the booth and pretends to fall asleep.  His round glasses skew with the loll of his head.

Jisung dressed up for today’s date.  He is wearing a beige coat that flatters his warm complexion plus that cute checkered scarf you gave him last winter.   You don’t mind his usual hoodies and caps as it always puts a swagger in his step, but you appreciate his effort even if it is a little random. 

He lifts his head with another musical sigh, golden blonde hair fluttering from his breath.  His big glasses make his dark eyes even bigger and you smile again.

“Hi,” you say sweetly.

He whimpers with more theatrical misery. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says like it is the most painful fact in the world.  “Why are you so beautiful?  And funny, and smart, and mine.  If you weren’t gonna be ugly and horrible, the least you could have done is reject me.  It wouldn’t have been so bad.  I could have been a lonely suffering artist, hidden away in a basement, composing symphonies for the beautiful woman out of my league.”

“I think you just described the Phantom of the Opera,” you say.

“Even better.”  Jisung sighs wistfully.  “He lived in an underground sex dungeon, right?  I don’t think he even paid rent.”   

You laugh into your hot chocolate. 

“What’s gotten into you?” you say.  It’s a rhetorical question.  Jisung is always a little silly. 

Your playful boyfriend thumps his hands on the table and glares past you, out the window. 

“Faeries,” he says brusquely.  “And their stupid faerie bullshit. My life is a nightmare and an arthouse horror movie and no one has ever suffered more than me—oooh, is that a chocolate croissant?”

You slap his hand when he reaches for your pastry.   He yelps like you chopped it off. 

“Jisungie,” you say, lifting an eyebrow, “what do you mean faerie bullshit?” 

He pouts spectacularly while unknotting his scarf.  He speaks in a watery, despondent voice, very contrary to his usual goofiness, “What do you think I mean?”

This, it seems, is also rhetorical as you have no opportunity to answer.  The bell jingles above the door and a little shiver moves down your spine. 

Unlike Jisung, you have never been to the faerie realm, but you have a gift for recognizing a supernatural presence.  Everything catches your eye as if they are sparkling fireflies, no matter their efforts to hide. 

The courtly fae, the ones that look human, have a tendency to cast enchantments both literal and metaphorical, their impossible beauty captivating to any human eye.  You are not immune to their gravitas, the way space seems to warp around them like earth is little more than gelatinous mire, but you can sense their other-worldliness before seeing them.   This is most likely due to exposure.  You did, after all, grow up with a faerie. 

You look to the doorway.  

Ah.  Speaking of. 

“Oh my god,” Jisung whines.  “He said he’d give me time to tell you.” He steals your hot chocolate and takes a swig like it’s hard vodka. 

“Tell me,” you repeat.  “Tell me what?” 

Though you are talking to Jisung, you cannot help but look over at his… his…

His Felix. 

Felix smiles when he sees you.  He scrunches his nose cutely and it makes his constellation of dark freckles dance on his sunny face. 

The freckles have always been an intriguing part of his glamour – for his human-like appearance is a mask shrouding his true faerie form – because faeries typically regard such things as imperfections.   Perhaps the freckles are residual from his time in the human realm, as Jisung’s flurries are the opposite. 

Felix is unbelievably beautiful.  He is wearing mortal clothes but he does not look truly human.  There’s something in his movements, fluid and dance-like, sometimes too swift to perceive.  His blonde hair catches the light with a perfect glow at every angle, his slender frame flawlessly draped in a black long-coat and a flattering black sweater.  His lovely ringed fingers part the air with his little wave and his perfectly pink mouth curls up in a sweet smile.  His dark eyes seem to sparkle.  

He crosses the restaurant in a few strides, quicker than a human would.  He smiles the whole time. 

“Hello,” he says, his deep voice smooth as butter.  Or maybe you’re the butter, his voice the knife, gliding right down the centre of you and settling low in your belly.  It has always had that effect. 

“Felix, hello,” you say in that quivery way you always greet him.   You grew up with both Jisung and Felix but Felix flits off to the faerie world when it suits him, and every time he returns you find yourself awestruck by him, as if you had never truly seen him before. 

Jisung smacks his head down on the surface of the table.  You and Felix look at him, you with considerable more concern.  Felix just draws his mouth into a flat line, neither smiling nor frowning, more like he anticipated his… his… his Jisung would behave this way. 

“Is it okay if I sit?”  Felix asks, pointing to the spot beside Jisung.  Jisung is somewhat sprawled in the booth but this doesn’t seem to concern Felix.  When you nod, he smiles, smooths out his coat, and simply bumps Jisung with his hip to squish himself into the booth. 

Jisung whimpers again, resting his head on the wall and pouting at it. 

“So,” Felix says.  He folds his hands on the table and tips his head, looking at you.  “How are you doing these days, hmm?” 

Faeries are known for their decorum.  It can turn sour very quickly, but it is imperative to adhere to rules of hospitality and general politeness.  

It is still strange and unnerving to have a faerie prince plunk himself into your booth and smile at you so politely.  Especially when you haven’t seen Felix in more than a year.   A year and fifteen days, to be specific, because Jisung has counted them all.  Jisung complains endlessly when Felix visits but he complains even more when he’s gone for too long. 

You think Felix must have returned to the human realm a while ago.  Jisung is usually friendly when he firsts sees him, but right now he is glaring. 

“What?”  Felix looks at Jisung.  They cock their heads at each other, the same angle, same time. 

It is always funny seeing them side-by-side.  Singularly, they look nothing alike, perhaps because Felix has intentionally deviated his glamour from being identical.  Jisung has a round face, cartoonishly cute at times, his build bulkier from his somewhat erratic workout schedule.   Felix is all sharp lines with a pointed elegance to his features, though his presence fills what space his slender body does not.  Their only similarity is their hair, similarly bouncy, alike in length, and identically shaded.  Right now it is a matching blonde. 

Despite their ample differences, there is an uncanny sameness to them.  They move the same way, tip their heads at the same time, roll their eyes in tandem.  They even take a breath at the same time.  You are certain if you pressed a hand to each of their chests, you would find their hearts beating to the same steady cadence.   

Felix was once a changeling.  Faeries sometimes swap their infants for human ones, occasionally for fun, oftentimes when their offspring is sickly or malformed.  Once a changeling swap has occurred, the faerie and human are inexorably linked to one another.  If the human parents try to kill the faerie or let it die, it will also kill their child, so it is in their best interest to nurse the sickly baby and hope the faeries swap them back. 

Felix was born too soon, a shrivelled little creature, third son of the autumn high prince’s third wife.  His mother swapped him for Jisung, stealing the little mortal away in his infancy.  Jisung’s mother was not a bewildered, simpering mortal, however.  Her resilience and intelligence was part of the family’s initial allure, but it was also the downfall of the changeling operation.  She ventured into the faerie realm and won back her son, plus the right to see the lonely faerie prince that had been so unceremoniously abandoned by his unloving family. 

She returned to the mortal world with Jisung and Felix.  The changeling prince spent his childhood bouncing between the human realm and the world of faerie.   You grew up next door to Jisung and the three of you have been a tight-knit trio since before you can remember. 

You love Felix just as much as you love Jisung, it’s just that… the faerie-ness complicates things.  You aren’t sure Felix really loves you or Jisung in a way you understand.  Even now, his enquiry after your well-being seems more like a necessary script than genuine question.  He will be uneasy until you complete your side of the exchange. 

“I’m good, Felix,” you say.  “How are you?”

He smiles, freckles dancing.  “Good,” he says.  “Thank you.”  

Felix cracks his neck and Jisung is compelled to do the same, though he looks irritated about it.  The depth of their connection has always been ambiguous to you, but sometimes Jisung feels phantom aches and pains, urges that come out of nowhere and pester him like an itch until he satisfies them.  

He seems impatient today, his glare not subsiding for a second.  

“You said I could have time to tell her,” Jisung says. 

“I gave you time,” Felix replies calmly. 

“You gave me like five minutes, man!”

“It doesn’t take more than five minutes,” Felix  says.  He seems genuinely perplexed that Jisung would believe otherwise.  He looks at Jisung with a head tilt that Jisung mirrors, then they both look at you.  “Hi,” Felix says.  “Will you marry me?  See.  That was less than five minutes.  It was five syllables, actually.  Well, I guess if you had asked it, you would have said, ‘Will you marry Felix,’ so it would have been six syllables, but that’s still less than five minutes, even if you streeeeetch it ouuuut—”

“I’m gonna stretch you out,” Jisung says, then plants his forehead in his palm.  “That came out wrong.” 

Felix does not plant his forehead in his palm but he does rest his chin in his hand. 

“So,” he says to you, smiling. “Will you?  Two syllables, by the way.”

“Shut up about the syllables, dude.” 

“Wait,” you say, interrupting their inane blabber.  If you leave them to it, Jisung and Felix will dance in verbal circles for hours and still not clarify anything.  “Marry you?  Why would I— Felix, you know Jisung and I— I don’t understand what’s—”

You love Jisung and Felix.  You find them equally attractive, in their own way and as a complimentary pair.  As much as you adore Jisung, you feel bereft when Felix is gone for a long time.  Your crush on Felix was as inevitable as your romance with Jisung.  Only where that relationship has long since solidified into a stable love, you and Felix have never done much more than hug. 

Jisung and Felix, on the other hand, have shared their own intimacies.  You caught them kissing back when you were teenagers.  You got pouty rather than angry, viciously jealous of both of them at once.  Jisung was too flustered to speak, mostly chirping like a frightened bird, while Felix just smiled and cheerily said, “Jisungie says we’re practicing.”

“Practicing?” you asked, hands on hips.  “Practicing for what exactly?”

Felix frowned, looking confused, like it had never occurred to him to follow that line of questioning. 

“For girls!”  Jisung exclaimed. 

Felix snapped his fingers and nodded.  “Right,” he said.  “Girls. That was it.  Wait.”  He looked confused again and pointed to you. “Isn’t she a girl?” 

“She doesn’t count,” Jisung said, getting redder by the second.  You threw a shoe at him and stormed out of the house. 

That was a long time ago.  That momentary flicker of suggestion was the only time Felix brought up potentially kissing you.  Even then, it seemed less desirous than pragmatic.  

And now, for some reason, he is asking you to marry him. 

“Oh my god, man, maybe if you used more than five syllables, she would get what’s going on,” Jisung says.  His gaze softens when he looks at you.  He reaches across the table to take your hand, though it takes you a second to respond.  Your fingers are frozen stiff around your mug.  “Baby,” he says in a soft, apologetic voice, “I know it sounds a bit strange, but I promise I can explain.” 

“I have to get married,” Felix interrupts, ignoring when Jisung scowls at him.  “I think it’s just for, uhhh, appearances, basically.  My brother Chan just became high prince and I’m the only one of my mum’s kids who isn’t married and she thinks it makes her look bad because all my dad’s other kids have their lives together… anyway, she said either I find a bride for myself or she was going to give me one.  And, uh, she’s not very, hmm, generous, is she?”

Definitely a rhetorical question.  You do not need to have met the faerie princess to know of her predilection for malice.  Felix would most likely be saddled with some Shakespearean donkey-headed monstrosity for all his days.  Felix, being Felix, would smile blithely and accept his awful fate, saying little on the matter when prompted. 

Felix is like that.  He shows neither amity nor animosity to much.  His emotions, whatever they are, manifest unpredictably.  He smiles a lot of blank smiles.  Occasionally he bursts into random tears that flood out of him with terrifying distress.  It comes upon him unexpectedly, so big that it is almost theatrical.  You think he might be mimicking expressions of human pain to convey whatever interior hurt he is feeling, however severe or benign, then it just stops until next time.  

He is not the sort to wail and harass you.  Even if he was desperate, he would not force you to marry him.  Looking into his dark eyes, you know that much.  There are plenty of stories the world over where supernatural princes steal mortal girls from their beds, where they compel them to dance until their feet bleed, where they fill their heads with songs that play until the human goes mad and dies in some anguished pit in their own mind. 

There are not many stories where they propose in a café.

“Felix, you idiot!”  Jisung smacks Felix on the arm.  “You didn’t even tell her the important part.” 

“Oh yeaaah,” Felix says. 

Jisung scoffs and looks at you, his expression soft again.  He squeezes your hand.

“Baby,” he says, “you know how Felix and I have a special, um, connection?” 

You know he means the changeling magic but you think about them kissing.  You push the image aside, as well as the lingering jealously, and nod. 

“Right,” Jisung says.  “We’re like… tied together and shit, right?  Like if I got hit by a bus, Felix would also go splat.”

“Faeries don’t splat,” Felix says, bristled. 

“Splat,” Jisung says sweetly, “like a big stupid faerie pancake.” 

“Jisung,” you say, “are you going to make a point?” 

“The point,” Jisung says, “is Felix is gonna live a long time, if he doesn’t go splat.  So that means… I’m gonna live a long time too.”

“If,” Felix interrupts, “he comes with me to live among the folk.” 

The fair folk.  Another name for the courtly fae.  Divided into seasonal realms, the four courts host a variety of faerie life.  Felix is from the autumn court and Jisung was spirited to it as baby.  You have never crossed from this world into the faerie world.  You know the stories better than anyone, almost more familiar with the foreign realm than the world around you, but its reality has only ever been a distant dream. 

This seems like the world’s strangest break-up: your boyfriend leaving you for his changeling faerie to live an immortal life in the faerie realm.

Except it’s not a break-up.  It’s a proposal. 

“I have no idea what’s happening right now,” you say, juggling feelings of confusion and jealousy and desire.  “What does that have to me with me?  And getting married?” 

“It will bond us together too,” Felix says, smiling again.  “Do you understand?  Isn’t that wonderful?  The three of us can be together for always.  I think you’ll really like it.”  He looks sideways at Jisung and adds, “And you’re smarter than him when it comes to the fair folk.  I would feel better if Jisung had your company.”

“What?” Jisung slaps the table.  “What are you talking about?  I’m the one who’s been there!  I am so totally super smart about faeries all the time!” 

“You once ate a magic apple and grew a tail,” Felix says.   

“You know I get snacky after my naps.  Besides, I got better.  Suck on some salty iron and boom, no tail.” 

Felix sighs, exasperated, and Jisung sighs, even more exasperated. 

“Please marry me,” Felix says imploringly.  “For all of us.” 

Felix cannot lie.  Faerie magic ranges from miniscule to immense, but lying is an impossibility regardless of rank. 

An inability to lie does not guarantee honesty. The truth can be obfuscated.  Faeries are clever with words, cleverer still what they reveal at all.  

Felix has not lied.  He needs to marry.  It would bond you.  You are smarter than Jisung when it comes to the fair folk.

Felix has not told the whole truth.  He does not need to marry you specifically.  He would be happy with just Jisung, you think.  They have something special, something you have always watched from the outside.  You know a lot about faeries but you do not belong to their world.  Felix could keep Jisung safe.  You are a spare. 

Despite the loving stare of your two oldest friends, you feel woefully insecure.  You take your hands back and rest them in your lap, staring morosely into your cooling hot chocolate. 

“Baby?” Jisung says gently.

You look up.  They look equally concerned.  They reach for you at the same time then look at each other.  They mutely come to an accord and Felix takes your hand.  You shiver immediately. 

“Sweetheart,” Felix says.  “It’s just me.  I won’t… I won’t make you do something you don’t want to do, but I… I want to know… I mean, do you not…”

“You don’t want to come with us?”  Jisung asks, his bottom lip wobbling.  Tears spill over his cheeks seconds later.  “I-I-I know it’s a bit weird.  But you’ve always talked about wanting to see it anyway.   And you don’t have any family here anymore.  Are you worried about the royal court thing?  Because I’m gonna be there and Felix says we’ll spend most of our time at his bower anyway and okay I don’t even know what that means and I didn’t wanna seem stupid so I didn’t ask—”

“It’s just my tree-house, Jisung,” Felix says.

“It’s just his tree-house,” Jisung sobs. 

“It isn’t that,” you say.  You reach for Jisung so you are holding both their hands.  You give them a squeeze.  “I love you both.  So much.  It hurts a little sometimes because of how much.  And I’m scared… I’m scared of being left behind.” 

They both pause.  Felix looks more bewildered than any supernatural creature in history, you are sure.  They are inviting you to come along and you express fear of the opposite.  It must be incomprehensible to his mind. 

Apparently it also confuses Jisung because he softly whispers, “What the fuck.”

You bring their hands together and withdraw your own touch. 

“I just mean…”  You are too embarrassed to vocalize it. 

Recognition lights their eyes at the same time.  Jisung rips his hand away. 

“I can’t be alone with Felix forever!”  Jisung cries.  “Are you crazy?  We need you!  Without you it’s just… just… just us.  It’s nothing, it’s empty.  You… you’re our person.  If you’re not there too… then… then… then I’m not going either.  I’d rather get old and die with you than live forever without you.” 

Felix’s mouth opens and closes with a storm of unspoken thoughts.  He has sobbed spectacularly at birthday cards and scraped knees, but he doesn’t cry now. 

Jisung’s exclamation rattles you.  It was such a genuine burst of emotion, so rich with devotion that you feel silly for ever doubting either of them.  Empty, he said.  You never considered what kind of echo might exist between them, how your presence filled it and made it better, not worse. 

You intend to remedy your blunder, an apology on your lips, but then Felix finds his words.

“I’ll tell you my name,” he says.  “My true name.  Will that be enough to convince you?”

Enough?

Enough?

You and Jisung stare at Felix with your jaws dropped.  Felix clenches his jaw, staring back at you. 

Faeries go by many names in their long lifetimes.  Felix was the name Jisung’s mother gave him, but it is not his true faerie name.  Names are powerful things.  If a mortal has a faerie’s true name, they can ensorcell and compel that faerie to do their bidding.  It essentially enslaves them. 

Faeries do not freely reveal their true names, not to other faeries and certainly not to mortals.  Tricky mortals have uncovered faerie names, stories of humans triumphing over wicked creatures, but you cannot think of a single story where the faerie got down on one knee and willingly offered it.

Because that’s what Felix does.  He gets out of the booth and gets down on one knee in front of you, then looks up at you with dark, desperate eyes. 

“I’ll tell you right now if that’s what it takes,” he says.  His hands are shaking.  The wind starts knocking at the window again, harder than before.  Leaves form columns of colour, shooting up to the sky, scattering in every direction. 

“Don’t,” you say.  “Don’t.”  The trust this requires is extraordinarily substantial.  It means more than any simple I love you.  Maybe Felix feels human love or maybe he feels something different.  Maybe losing you is not like losing a person, but like losing a limb or something equally vital.  It must be, for him to offer up his entire being in a word. 

The gesture means more than you can say.  The best way to reciprocate it is by refusing it. 

“It’s enough,” you say, choked up.  “It’s enough that you would offer.” 

“I’ll tell you,” he says, like he thinks you don’t believe him.  But of course you believe him.  He can’t lie. 

“I know,” you say.  “I’m sorry I doubted you.  Come here please.” 

Felix sits beside you and lets you wrap your arms around his neck.  He is tentative at first but then he looks at Jisung and holds you tighter.   The world outside settles once more. 

“Wow, that was intense,” Jisung says.  He grabs a napkin and blows his nose.  “Wheeew.  Wednesdays, am I right?”  

Felix pulls back, just enough so he can see your face.  You feel shy under his rapt attention, flush with warmth when his fingertips sweep from your temple to your jaw.  He holds your chin and tilts your face up.  He seems to be studying you.  This close, you can see all the shades of brown in his eyes, even flecks of dark, dark green and threads of gold.  There is a shimmer to the black of his iris.  If he turned a certain way, you think his glamour would disappear.  You think he would be beautiful anyway. 

He exhales.  His breath flutters over your lips. 

“Will you come with us?” he asks, his deep voice rumbling so soft and low.  “Will you marry me?”

You look at Jisung.  You cannot imagine any circumstance in which a man would look so eager for his girlfriend to accept another man’s proposal, yet this feels completely normal. 

Normal.  The three of you have always had your own definition of that word, haven’t you? 

You look at Felix, at the shimmer of his bold gaze.  

“Yes,” you say.  “Yes, I will.” 

Felix smiles and Jisung lets out a whoop!  You laugh, turning aside to wipe an unbidden tear from your eye.  Felix touches your cheek.  He looks more entranced than anything, blinking long and slow like a content cat. 

Jisung is still celebrating.  He shoves half your croissant in his mouth while you are distracted.  Then, with his cheeks stuffed full of pastry, his eyes get wide. 

“Ohyeah, weforgotsumffing!” he says around a mouthful of food.  He coughs, swallowing too quickly.  Felix clears his throat and passes Jisung your mug.  Jisung gulps it down while you and Felix exchange an affectionate glance.  

Then Jisung clinks the cup on the table and looks at you, sheepish. 

“Haha,” he says.  “By the way, you have to fuck Felix.” 

-

There are entrances to faerie in the deepest part of the woods.  Doorways are found in unlikely patterns that most humans will declare peculiar but innocuous: rings of spotted mushrooms, circular patches of darkening grass, shadows that arch with a perfect curve beneath a canopy of leaves.   

You have known this all your life, but you also knew to never go looking.  Not on your own.  A mortal wandering into faerie is not so different from a lamb wandering into a wolf den.  

Even with a wolf escort, you feel like that vulnerable lamb.  You hold hands with Jisung the entire trek, trailing behind Felix who hums as he lightly dances his way through even the harshest terrain.  Finally you come across two branches, twining up and up until they tangle like two hands clasping across a chasm.  

Winded from the exertion of the hike, you and Jisung come to a slow stop to catch your breaths.  Felix hurries ahead, his face brightening as he approaches the archway. 

“You ready?”  Jisung asks, squeezing your hand.

“Yeah,” you say.  “You?”

“Oh, hell yeah, baby,” he says with a laugh.  You look at him only to find his gaze turned on the archway, faraway with reminiscence.  “I remember it, you know,” he says.

“What?” you ask.  Jisung has never mentioned this before. “But you were just a baby.”

He looks at you with surprise, like he didn’t expect an answer.  Maybe he didn’t mean to say it out loud.  He laughs, deflecting the tension, and rubs the back of his neck. 

“Yeah, I know,” he says.  “Magic I guess, or something.  I dunno.  I just know I remember it.  There’s stuff that happened last week I can’t remember.  In a year, or fifty, or a hundred, I don’t know what I’ll remember from here.  But I remember this place like I never left.” 

You squeeze his hand again.  He looks at you and smiles, squeezing back. 

“Come on!”  Felix calls.  He is standing at the archway, waving to you.  He is wearing jeans and a t-shirt, a leather satchel slung across his chest.  The mundanity of his clothing looks unnatural.  If he looked inhuman in that café, he looks even less human now.  His glamour is in tact, his freckles pronounced, but there is a quality to him that defies logic.  He looks like he could take off flying and it would not be unusual. 

You and Jisung exchange a final glance then approach.  Felix smiles and walks backwards through the archway.  You can see him clearly as if he merely took another step in the woods.  He holds out his hands, you and Jisung taking one each, then you step through as well. 

Oh.

October orange sunlight pours through the trees, the early sunset colour of a clear autumn day at its close.  The woods are a mosaic of colour: green, orange, yellow, red, brown, little swirls of leaves flying from branch to branch, gathering in piles and scattering again.  You watch leaves settle over a pile of bones only for the whole apparatus to knit itself together.  You stumble to a surprised stop as a cat made of bones and leaves unfurls before your eyes.  It scampers up to Felix, rattling like an ivory windchime and somehow still purring.  Felix scratches behind its leafy ears, smiling and greeting the kitty affectionately. 

“Come on,” Felix says, not noticing the way you and Jisung are completely arrested by the sight of the cat.  “It’s not far from here.” 

It is the domicile of the autumn court.   It is built into the woods, or swallowed by it, grand structures built within and around trees, some abodes very high in the sunlit branches, some disappearing into the ground.  They are decorated with garlands of dried flowers, gardens of gourds and harvest fruit weaving around the lower rooms.  You jump, startled, when a pile of nearby leaves rises up, revealing itself to be a deer, presumably also made of bones beneath its leafy surface. 

“Whoa,” Jisung says, an apt summary.   The leaf animals have no eyes, the faces uncanny.  The deer turns its neck with a click of bone, dipping its head in a respectful bow to Felix as he passes. 

Felix doesn’t notice.  He is watching you and Jisung now, smiling with so much mirth you think he might start glowing. 

“Do you like it?” he asks, looking directly at you.  Maybe he knows what Jisung is feeling without asking.  You try to school your expression to show more than just awe. 

“It’s beautiful,” you say.  You can see how a mortal could be a swept away by the beauty of the faerie court.  Between the glitter of crunchy leaves and the wafts of cinnamon and spice, it fantastically overwhelms the senses.  You can also see how quickly this dream could turn into a nightmare, if the sun was eclipsed and the undead creatures of the earth turned their vacant eyes on you.

You do not convey the complexity of your thoughts.  Felix takes for granted that you always tell the truth, even though he knows you can lie.  You think he sometimes forgets.   His whole face crinkles up with a smile now, maybe too severely, but you appreciate his attempt to render delight for you. 

“A little further to the palace,” Felix says. 

“Palaaace,” Jisung says in a sing-song, squeezing your hand.  He almost knocks you over when a bird swoops by his head.  This raven is real, not made of leaves, and it perches on Felix’s shoulder.  “Birds,” Jisung says woefully.  “There’s always a freaky-ass bird.” 

“This is one of mine,” Felix says, scratching its head.  “I think my brother sent it.”

You watch as the bird leans in, eerily person-like in how it seems to whisper in his ear before fluttering off.   Felix neither smiles nor frowns, his mouth drawing into a thin line as he comes to a halt.

“What is it?”  Jisung asks.  His startled tone reveals that Felix might be perturbed. 

“They’re expecting us,” Felix says, gazing ahead as if he can see your destination through all the foliage.  “They’re already preparing our wedding.”

“What?” you and Jisung say at the same time.  You look at each other then you ask, “Did you tell them already?”  Felix only proposed yesterday and he has not returned to the faerie realm, unless he snuck away overnight, but you don’t think so.  He spent the night with you and Jisung, Jisung insisting on being the little spoon between two big spoons.  Felix had his arm around Jisung and his hand in yours all night. 

“No,” Felix answers.  “I didn’t say anything yet.”

“This feels spoooooky,” Jisung sings, then laughs nervously. 

“Maybe,” Felix says with a casual shrug of his shoulders.  “Maybe not.  Let’s go.” 

You and Jisung exchange another look, but you have gone too far to turn around, so you follow Felix.  He leads you to a red-bricked path that thickens with moss the further you walk.    When you reach the base of a hill, Felix stops to hold your hand. 

“Don’t look back until I say,” he says.  “You could fall.  Keep your eyes on me or the cat.  She knows the way too.” 

The cat is running around your feet, mewling, though the clack of its jaws is louder than its airy voice.  You decide to look at Felix instead.  Apparently Jisung picks the cat because he coos, “Aww, she’s kinda cute in a freaky way.  What’s her name?” 

“Babyeater,” Felix says. 

“Oh nooo,” Jisung replies.

You follow Felix and the cat up an incline that grows so steep that at one point you are walking perpendicular to the forest below.   You look at Felix the whole time, squeezing his hand tightly.   His returned squeeze is reassuring.  You remind yourself this is Felix, the same boy who kissed your scraped knees better, who sat through all your childhood tea parties even though he never really understood the concept of playing pretend, the same boy who has dutifully and lovingly obliged your every whim, however much he failed to understand its human purpose.  For Felix, it was always enough if it made you happy. 

He leads you safely over the crest of the hill, then it’s just a few more steps through a darker patch of woods before you are stepping into a huge clearing, bright and orange and gold.   Three massive, broad trees stand in the distance, an elaborate stone citadel built around the trunks.   There are faeries and other supernatural entities wandering around an autumnal garden, some scurrying with bundles of lights and candles and drapery.   The clearing and castle have been beautifully and frightfully decorated with pumpkins and dried flowers and bones. 

“Is this for us?”  Jisung asks.  “Uh, I mean, for you?”

“It looks like it,” Felix says uncertainly.  “I don’t know how they—”

Jisung screams, a proper shrill yell right in your ear, when something bursts out of some shrubbery and blocks his path.  You stumble back with wide-eyed surprise and Jisung instinctively shields you even in his terror.  Felix is not scared, his face neutral as ever, but his connection to Jisung has him reacting similarly, guarding you with his body. 

An eyeless husk straightens itself, bony limbs stretching for the sky.  You hear the crack of a neck-bone and the flutter of leaves, then all at a once a glamour settles over the faerie, revealing a handsome young man with short brown hair and dark eyes. 

“He’s still loud,” the faerie says.  “You were loud as a baby too.  Wahhh-wahhhh-wahhhhhh—” 

“Seungmin,” Felix says, nonplussed.  “Thank you for the raven.” 

Felix bows and the faerie, Seungmin, who must be the aforementioned brother, bows back as per the dictation of decorum. 

“Chan is mad he had to find out the news from Hyunjin,” Seungmin says, his mouth quirked in a smirky little half-smile.  “You better to be ready to grovel.”   

“Ah,” Felix says.   He looks over at you and Jisung who are clinging to each other, still wide-eyed with surprise.  “Hyunjin is a prince from the spring court,” Felix says.  “He can see the future.”

“Oh,” Jisung says.  “Yeah, sure, makes sense.”  He looks at you with a face that says, it definitely does not make sense. 

“Spring court,” Seungmin says with a little eye-roll.  “They burst in here with a dramatic fuss like always.  It’s embarrassing that the high prince of autumn learned about his favourite little brother’s engagement from a different court...”

“I can’t help that Hyunjin sees the future,” Felix says, more disgruntled than you have ever heard him.  It occurs to you, as you look between him and Seungmin, that Felix stands out here just as much as he did in the human world.  It is different, as here it is the little cracks of humanity that fracture his faerie face.  Not just the glamour, the freckles or his clothes, but some intrinsic bearing.   Maybe it is the sameness to Jisung, the way they block you with the same stance, the way they shuffle on the same foot.  Maybe it’s something else, but it is suddenly pronounced. 

Seungmin does not appear to notice Felix’s tone.  He just gives another bow which Felix is forced to return.  You see Jisung twitching and you squeeze his hand. 

“You don’t have to bow,” you whisper.    

“I know,” he says, then bobs twice in an aborted half-bow. 

You sigh.  You jump when Jisung shrieks again, startled by a little leaf-dog that comes running out of the shrubbery.  It is being pursued by some frantic sprites.  They yammer at the puppy in a faerie tongue as it starts to chase the cat.  All their bones are clattering as they run around, cat then dog then sprites.  Seungmin blinks at the fiasco then looks at Felix. 

“Let’s go,” Seungmin says.  He turns and gives you a bow, as is polite, then looks at Jisung and says, “Boo!” 

Jisung jumps and Seungmin cackles, bowing. 

Felix gives Seungmin a little shove, his mouth a grim line again. 

You follow Seungmin further into the garden, coming upon a feast that seems to be currently underway even while servants continue to set the party around the guests.   Food appears and disappears off the table, some faeries eating and some of them throwing food at the servants.   You have heard stories of ensorcelled human servants being trapped in places like this, but you only see faeries so far.  It doesn’t put you at ease exactly, but you don’t feel quite as frightened. 

Then all the faerie guests at the grand table stop and look at you.   Then you are frightened. 

“Hi,” Jisung squeaks. 

It is nervously and thoughtlessly blurted, but it would be impolite to ignore it, so a chorus of “hi” and “hello” circles the table in return. 

Most of them have a glamour of some kind.  A stockier, handsome faerie with bright orange hair stands.   He is on the other side of the long banquet table but manifests in front of you in mere seconds.  You are very alarmed to find him wearing bandages under a black army coat, the white wraps stained with blood.  It is very at odds with his deeply dimpled smile. 

“Hi there,” he says, looking past Jisung and straight at you.  “Wow, Felix really did it.  Welcome.  Call me Chan.  Sorry for the, ah, blood, I think it upsets humans?”  This apology seems sincere enough, accompanied with a tilt of the head, but he offers no further explanation.  He pulls you into an embrace, tucking you into the fold of one muscular arm, and laughing with an unexpectedly adorable giggliness.  “We have a human little sister.  That’s fun, yeah?”  He looks at the table and everyone nods and claps, only a few characters mutely unresponsive. 

You smile, maybe.  It feels a bit boxy.  Your brain is fitting all the pieces together, recalling that Seungmin referred to Chan as the high prince of autumn.   Chan is thus the highest font of power in this faerie court and he is hugging you. 

The hug pulls you away from Jisung who moves closer to Felix.  You look at them, watching as they hold hands, trying to convey with your eyes that you would rather be with them.

There is no time for any extraction attempt because a fuss stirs at one end of the table.  A pink-haired faerie bursts out of his seat.  He is long-limbed, tall and spindly, and he runs around the huge table at a fairly human speed.  He is wearing a billowy green jacket and a long string of pearls, his pastel appearance at some odds to the deepness of the autumn court. 

“Hey Fee-lix! Heeey!” he says, very literally bouncing when he reaches Felix.   

“Aha, hi, Hyunjin,” Felix says.   

“You brought humans!”  Hyunjin says, sweeping down to look at Jisung, then turning his dark-eyed stare to you.  His glamour is astonishingly beautiful, as bright as his pearls, a face like a handsome marble statue and a supermodel’s stature.  But he slinks like a ferret, as smirky as a fox.   “The bride,” he says with something of a wistful sigh.  His dark eyes are sparkling.  “A faerie and a human.  How romantic.  I love romance.” 

Then you are freed from hugging Chan, but only because Hyunjin cups your face in both hands and kisses you.  Not a greeting kiss either, but a deep kiss.  You sputter when he licks you. 

“Um,” Jisung squeaks. 

“This is High Prince Hyunjin.  Of the spring court, of course,” Chan says amiably, not doing anything to stop the high prince of the spring court from sucking face with his brother’s bride. 

Hyunjin stops on his own, smiling at you fondly.  “Pretty girl,” he says, stroking his whole hand over your face.  “I wish I could marry you.”  This is spoken without much longing, but it must be true or he couldn’t say it.   

He turns his sights on Jisung next.  Jisung straightens, eyes darting around for an escape. 

“The changeling baby,” Hyunjin says.  “He’s so cute now.  Can I marry this one, Felix?” 

Jisung’s eyes widen, looking at Felix, then at you. 

Felix looks unamused.  “No,” he says simply. 

Hyunjin pouts, slinking up to Jisung.  He grabs his face, long fingers grasping him tight.  Jisung’s lips part with surprise, his cheeks puffing when Hyunjin shakes his head around. 

“That’s not fair,” Hyunjin says.  “You already have one.” 

“I said no,” Felix repeats. 

Hyunjin just sighs.  “I knew you’d say that,” he says.  “Oh well.”  Then he kisses Jisung full on the mouth too, Jisung squeaking through the very wet onslaught.  Hyunjin just smiles and strokes his face, then goes back to the table. 

Hyunjin’s self-introduction triggers a similar desire in the remaining guests.  Soon they are swarming you, forced into the vaguest semblance of a queue when Chan waves a demanding hand.  You meet Felix’s mother, who smiles and coos at you like she didn’t mandate a wife in the first place.  You meet Changbin, another half-brother of Felix, who thankfully follows the example set by Chan and not Hyunjin and simply hugs you.  He is so burly and strong that it lifts you off your feet, but he has enough restraint not to crush you, so that’s something.  

There are clusters of other faeries, all noisy, all dipping in bows or trying to kiss you, and all of them from the spring or autumn court.   A hush falls over the garden when the remaining guests approach for an introduction.  Felix finally appears at your side, Jisung too, standing on either side of you and holding your hands. 

“Winter and Summer,” Felix whispers as two courtly fae and their retinues step forward. 

You know very well why Felix deigns to warn you.  The autumn court and spring court, as per their seasonal equivalents, are shifting and transitory in many ways; they grow and they learn, and they often host humans, be it in a generous or malicious capacity.  The winter and summer courts are hostile to change, and both have little to do with humans at all.  Whatever human encounters have transpired in those courts have left few survivors to speak of it. 

Their glamours fit them strangely, like new clothes not yet broken in.   The first prince wears his glamour like a boy forced into dress clothes by a parent, walking with a stiff sort of discomfort.  His robes are coloured blue and yellow, long and loose, his blonde hair turning dark blue at the root.  His dimples are deep and cheekbones very sharp, and when he smiles he reveals a whole row of long, piercing teeth that he forgot to glamour altogether. 

You jump, staring aghast as the otherwise too-pretty prince sweeps into a bow.  He looks at Chan, sees him smiling, and copies the expression with a frightful brightness. 

“Prince Jeongin,” Felix says.  He squeezes your hand, reminding you to bow back. You do so swiftly.  “Summer.” 

“High Prince,” Jeongin says, laughing for some reason, a wheezing sound. 

“You have fourteen older brothers,” Felix says. 

“Had.”  Jeongin smiles again, his dimples deepening, his teeth glittering.  “I ate them.” 

“Oh,” Felix says. There is a pause as he looks at you then looks at Jeongin.  Your face reveals terror, you are certain, but Jeongin is waiting expectantly.  Felix weighs his words and says, “Uh.  You must be happy to be congratulated.” 

You wonder how you ever thought Felix was strange.  He seems so normal suddenly, the only one who finds something wrong with a person eating fourteen brothers.  If he did approve, he would not have to word his congratulations so strangely to avoid a lie. 

Unless he just did that to appease you, a small voice says in the back of your head. A different truth is not a lie.

You wish you were not such an overthinker.  This is Felix.   Your Felix.  Yours, yours.   As much yours as Jisung, who is breathing a little heavier, so it makes Felix breathe heavier, and their combined strain has you close to panting as well. 

You are thus all breathless when you meet the final prince, introduced as High Prince Minho of the winter court.  He is wearing dark clothes, apparently sans his usual furry winter accoutrements, and his glamour is a barely-there mask that vanishes when the light hits him at certain angles.  He wears it like a loosely tied scarf, grudgingly donned.  He has not glamoured his eyes, mismatched and vibrant and vacant of all human emotion.  He does not smile when he bows.   Like Jeongin, he does not hug or kiss you. 

He looks you over, his stare raking, then he does the same to Jisung.  Whatever he sees makes him laugh, though it is a derisive sound.   Then he looks at Felix and says, “They’re fragile.  Be careful, changeling.” 

When he leaves, Jisung whispers, “Honestly, that last one got me kinda hard.”

“Yeah,” Felix says, unhappily, “I know.”   

And just like that, you are trying very hard not to laugh. 

You look at Felix and find his returned gaze to be very affectionate.  You always thought his regards looked a little too precise, like he was concentrating on forming the appropriate expression, but compared to certain toothy grins and cold laughs, Felix looks positively alight with sentiment.   He still looks strange in his t-shirt and jeans, but you think he might look strange anyway. 

It never occurred to you before that Felix’s changeling life might have made him an oddity on both sides of the veil. 

You feel a pang of sympathy, suddenly. 

Felix looks down at where you are holding his hand.  You see his gaze flit across to where you hold Jisung’s hand as well.  It exacerbates that pang in your chest, recalling your own jealousy when you found them kissing, plus all the years spent wishing you shared their magical connection.  It never occurred to you that Felix might feel some type of way about you dating Jisung, about you and Jisung both being human.  Maybe it reminded he was an outcast wherever he went.  Always very close to being part of something, never quite belonging. 

Funny enough, Jisung has always been significantly more blasé.   He sets his sights on what he wants and it never occurs to him that he will not have it.  He has Felix, he dates you, you marry Felix, he lives forever.  You look at your human boyfriend, at the way his dark eyes seem to sparkle as he looks around the garden.  You think somehow, despite his occasional shrieks and frights, he looks more home here than Felix. 

“Right then!”  Chan suddenly claps in your face, startling you.  “It’s wedding time, yeah?  We’ve never had a human wedding here before but Hyunjin is an expert so he helped us out…” 

Two faerie servants rip you away from Felix and Jisung.  Hyunjin follows you, looking very keen, his hands clasped behind his back but his whole face lit up brightly.  His eagerness does not put you at ease, nor are you reassured by his seemingly “expert” advice.  Seeing as he thought it was appropriate to introduce himself by making out with you, you sincerely doubt he is the human expert he has proclaimed himself to be.  

Sure enough, the slapdash preparations are very random.  You are shoved into a very pretty dress, but then Hyunjin attempts to adorn you with both a veil and a headpiece, and you can see an array of other accessories from international wedding regalia.  Being as polite as possible, you decline the offer to any headpiece at all.   

“Wow,” Hyunjin says, cupping your face.  “You are so humble.  Humans are so amazing, the way they just let themselves be ugly.  Wow.  Wow.  I won’t interfere with your hideous but humble head.  Should we kiss again?”        

“I think it’s better we don’t,” you say.  “It might wrinkle the dress?”

He nods sagely.  “That would be bad,” he agrees.  “Especially because your head is so bare and horrible.  The dress is doing all the work.  Can I put flowers in your hair or do you really prefer to be ugly?” 

“Uh, flowers, yeah, sure,” you say.  He says everything so frankly that you somehow can’t feel offended.  A compliment would feel just as meaningless. 

“I’ve always wanted to attend a human wedding,” Hyunjin says.  “You know, spring is a very popular time for human weddings.  But humans are always dying so fast after, so it makes me sad to watch them properly.” 

“You feel sadness?” you ask.  Though Hyunjin and Felix seem quite different, perhaps you can glean an answer to the depth of faerie emotions.  Especially considering this marriage business feels like an entirely different beast now that you are in a wedding dress with an entire congregation of faeries sitting in a garden waiting for you.  It seemed like a simpler affair when it was just Felix and Jisung in a café booth.     

“Oh, of course,” Hyunjin says.  “I feel sad all the time.  I feel sad right now because you aren’t marrying me.”  He says this with a great deal of joviality, smiling at you like he’s proud of his supposed sadness.  

You decide not to ask more questions on that front, because you doubt his answers will be very helpful.  You do enquire after the wedding festivities.  You try not to frown at the very random assemblage of traditions he has baked into a single ceremony.  It sounds like a tedious affair but you decide to brace it, supposing it could be worse. 

“Then we all watch the royal consummation,” Hyunjin says casually, adding another flower to your hair. 

You grab his wrist without thinking, stopping him.

“Did I stab you?” he asks, blowing on your head to check for blood.  “Sorry.  I keep forgetting pins in heads kill humans.”  He says this with a lot of exasperation, like it’s a personal inconvenience to him that humans die so easily. 

“No, it’s not that,” you say.  He pops another peony on your head, manifesting the little buds out of thin air.  “What do you mean ‘we all watch the royal consummation?’  Who is ‘we’?”  

“The high princes, obviously,” he says, tucking a rose behind your ear. 

You stare ahead, mouth hanging open. 

Yesterday seems so long ago now, but Jisung and Felix did explain to you that the autumn court required an act of consummation to legitimize the marriage.  Apparently it has nothing to do with virginity or rearing heirs, mostly functioning as a ritual for the sake of itself.  Once faeries decide something is a rule they must follow it. 

You were very hot in the face the entire conversation.  Jisung seemed content to describe the way you need would have sex with his changeling faerie, but you were too embarrassed to meet either gaze. 

Maybe it would have been easier if you did not want to sleep with Felix. If it was just a necessity, it would be meaningless.

But you very much do desire Felix, even if he only smiled blithely during the discussion.  He seemed unaffected while you were very flustered. 

This is a very different type of flustered. 

“I was not told there would be an audience,” you finally say.

“There isn’t usually,” Hyunjin says.  “But that’s how human princes do it, if I remember.  A whole council watches.  Felix doesn’t have a council, though, so we’ll have to do it.  It would be very rude not to indulge your human traditions.  There!  All done.”

He steps back to admire your appearance.  You are still frazzled from the conversation, from the strong floral scent that is now wrapped around you, from everything. 

“You look—”  Hyunjin pauses, then, “—not horrible at all!  I did a very good job.  Now the wedding can start.  I’ll tell Chan to start killing the sacrificial wedding goats.   We only have one and it’s made of leaves and bones but I assumed that would be okay with you.  This way we can just keep killing the same one over and over again.  I’ll be right back.” 

“Can I—”  You feel panicked.  You need to see Jisung.  Hyunjin has you sequestered in some little golden alcove.  You do not want to be hunted down if you just flee, so you ask, “Can I go look at myself in a mirror?” 

“You’re testing me,” Hyunjin says, his long fingers covering his mouth with a surprised gasp.  Then he giggles.  “I passed!  I know you can’t look at the bride before the wedding.  Wait here!”  Then he disappears out the gate and around the corner. 

You sit down in a huff and close your eyes.  You try counting backwards from one hundred to calm yourself, but you reach the low twenties and still feel tense.   

Then you hear the patter of human footsteps.  You know it is a human because faeries scarcely disturb the ground where they walk.  You hear the crunch of leaves and lift your head, feeling a rush of relief with Jisung pokes his head into the alcove. 

“There you are,” he says.  “Felix is – uh – they’re getting him – dressed – and I wanted –  wanted you—” 

You stand as he talks, as his voice drifts, as his breath catches.  He looks down the length of your dress then back up, his dark eyes watery as he exhales with a gut-punching whoosh. 

“You look so beautiful, baby,” he says.  “This – this feels weird.  I know it’s – weird.  But it’s not – it’s not wrong, right?  It’s just weird.  But weird isn’t bad.   It’s just—”

“Weird,” you say, with a little laugh.  “Yeah.  I know.” 

He smiles softly.  He wore his glasses here but he has since put in contacts.  His hair is neatly styled and he changed into slightly nicer clothes, still human world, but very handsome in his black pants and black shirt.  He is so handsome that for a moment you forget about all your worries, taking a step towards him with your hand extended.  He catches that hand, bringing it to his shoulder.  He sweeps you into a kiss that banishes all your bad thoughts, the familiar taste and feel of him engulfing you.   You sink your fingers in his hair, parting your lips under the press of his mouth. 

It's him who ends the kiss, breathlessly, stuttering, “S-sorry, wait.  I came here to tell – to tell you – the consummation – that pink guy—”

“I know,” you say with a cringe.  You bury your face in his neck.  “Ugh, a bunch of faeries are gonna watch me have sex.” 

“Faeries and me!” he says with a nervous laugh. 

“Huh!”

“I tried to stop it, but no one would really listen to me,” he says.  “Someone only listened when I said it was weird for a guy to watch his little brother have sex, and some people agreed, so Prince Chan said I should take his place, since there were no faeries of equal rank to him and at least I was human.”  He slaps a hand to his forehead.  “Sorry.  I tried.” 

“Oh, Jisung,” you say, giggling a little helplessly at your morose boyfriend.  “How do you get yourself into these situations?” 

“You’re wearing a wedding dress!” he replies. 

“That’s only because I know you!” 

“Your life would have been very boring without me,” Jisung says, smiling. 

“I know,” you say.  “It would have been awful.” 

Because for as strange as all this faerie nonsense is, you cannot imagine a world where you never knew Jisung, where you never knew Felix, where you never had this love in your life, as messy and jealous and complicated as it has been at times. 

You tip your head, gazing into Jisung’s eyes.  He shivers when you twirl a bit of his hair around your finger. 

“Jisungie,” you say, thinking of your own jealousy, of Felix’s confounding glances.  “Do you ever feel jealous at all?”

“Of what?” he asks, totally innocent.

“I don’t know,” you say.  You are not sure how to explain it without seeming ridiculous, which puts it into some perspective.  “I mean, me and Felix are about to… you know.”

“Uh, yeah.  That’s okay.  I don’t want to have sex in front of the cannibal faerie,” Jisung says, making you laugh.  “Not a joke!” 

“I know, I know.”  You kiss his cheek. 

“I couldn’t be jealous of you two,” he says, looking contemplative, as if this has never really occurred to him before.  Then he looks at you a bit sheepishly, his gaze skittish in how it darts around. 

“What?” you ask, recognizing his shy mischief. 

“I think it’s… uh… kinda hot?”  He rubs the back of his neck.  “I love you and I guess I also love that stupid faerie boy.  And… maybe… I kinda wanna see…”

You feel very hot again. 

“You, um, want to watch Felix fuck me?” you ask, frankly as you can. 

“Yes.”  He stares straight up, his ears gone completely red and his cheeks turning pink.  “I think you’ll look hot together.  I was kinda hoping we’d do something like this one day.  I mean, the cannibal faerie is a surprise, but other than that…”

You kiss him.  His arms circle your waist and he tugs you close, the kiss deepening naturally.  You let all your flustered embarrassment fizzle away, thinking about Felix, thinking about Jisung.  You get a bit handsy, squeezing Jisung’s biceps then resting your hands on his chest.  He makes a little sound into the kiss, one of his needy whimpers.  It never fails to light you up. 

“I’m nervous,” you say, speaking low, against his lips.  “Thinking about so many of them watching me and Felix…”

It is clear by his gulp and frantic nod that Jisung finds the scenario sexier than he should.   “Yeah, baby,” he says.  “What can I do?” 

You know the faeries will be occupied with Hyunjin’s myriad of rituals for a while, so you peck his lips and ask, “Get me ready?”

“Ready,” he repeats.  His gaze jumps up to the flowers in your hair.  “You are ready.” 

“Not like that,” you say.  

Jisung really does his best to be appropriate, but he gets pussy-drunk faster than any man you have ever known.  A suggestion is all it takes.  You tap his shoulder and he obediently drops to his knees. 

“Baby,” he says in a reverent whisper, sighing, eyes closing when you run your fingers through his hair. 

Heavy-lidded and so seemingly submissive to your desire, Jisung looks up at you.  Then he reaches past you, grabs the chair by the leg, and yanks.  He is not too gentle, spilling you onto it with a forceful nudge. 

You know Jisung does nothing by halves.  He is singular in his passions.   You ask him to kneel, so he kneels, so he closes his eyes, so he opens his mouth.  He pushes your dress out of his way and licks through your panties until the fabric is sticky and you are so so wet that it clings to you.  Your thighs tremble and he whimpers softly, high and light in the back of his throat. 

“Jisungie…”

“Shh, shh, shh,” he says in a raspy voice, drawing the fabric aside.  “It’s okay.  Don’t cry.  I’ve got you, baby.” 

He speaks so sweetly, like he is incapable of being mean, even while he torments you with long, twisting strokes of his tongue, never committing to a single pattern.  It is a storm of sensation, rolling through you over and over again.  You are so sensitive that slightest nudge feels like a miniature orgasm all on its own.  You gasp and whine, trying and failing to close your legs around his head. 

“Jisuuung,” you say, your voice rough. “We don’t have much time, I need to come…”

He moans when he buries his tongue in you, when he licks messily up past your clit and back down again.  You grab his hair and tug, though it does nothing to deter him. 

“Your husband can make you come later,” he says, giggling an inch from your pussy.  “I’m just warming you up…”  

“Please,” you say, “please, please, please.”

“Hmm?” is his reply, then he sighs and dives back. 

Your eyes close, brow furrowing in concentration.  You rock your hips against his mouth as he finally starts circling your clit with a single-minded resolve.  You feel flushed and shaky, pleasure and heat coursing through you, and you know you must look as ravaged as you feel.   

You open your eyes and see Felix standing in the entryway.  He looks astonishingly beautiful, his long blonde hair neatly styled back, his freckles pronounced and eyes so dark.  Long earrings made of sparkling orange gems dangle from his ears, looking at once like rippling flames and water running over bronze.  He is dressed in an approximation of a tuxedo, except the pants are leather and the shirt and blazer are cropped too short. 

He tips his head, his eyes on Jisung for a moment.  Then he holds your gaze unflinchingly, maybe daringly.  His smile appears slowly.  It is too gentle to be lecherous, tender despite the fact his gloved hand runs over his belt and tugs.  His tongue touches his bottom lip and he tips his head the other way. 

His presence startles you for a moment.  You should feel caught, or embarrassed, or something.  But the initial surprise fades and you just stare back at him.  You dig your fingers into Jisung’s hair and breathe harder as he strokes and strokes and strokes you with his tongue. 

Felix exhales.  His smile is still soft.  He lifts a darkly gloved hand and gestures to you, curling two fingers, a suggestive come here. 

Then Jisung’s hand goes from your thigh to your pussy, two fingers curling inside you without any resistance.  Felix’s smile curves into a pleased, satisfied smirk.  He nods. 

You come, holding Jisung’s face against your pussy, letting him moan and whimper with his own pleasure as you roughly fuck his mouth.  When he lifts his head, his mouth is so obscenely wet that you throb with a renewed ache of desire. 

“I think you’re ready now,” Jisung says.  He lowers your legs and slowly slides his fingers out of you.  Your breath catches, swallowing up a sound of a surprise when he uses both thumbs to spread your pussy open to his gaze – his and Felix.  Your head feels fuzzy and not with faerie magic. 

“I think so,” Felix says. 

Jisung does not seem surprised by his voice. He lets you go, your dress falling back over your lap.  He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and looks over his shoulder at Felix.  Felix approaches, his steps silent despite his big black boots.

You watch.  Jisung’s bottom lip twitches.  He looks up at Felix with the same hazy intoxication he looked at you.  Felix bites the tip of a glove, pulling the fabric off with his teeth, then he swipes his thumb across Jisung’s glistening mouth.  Felix brings that thumb to his own bottom lip, his tongue only just swiping the tip of it. 

Then Hyunjin struts into the alcove and slaps a shocked hand over his mouth. 

“What are you doing?” he demands.  You think he is going to remark on the man kneeling at your feet, not to mention your sexually dishevelled appearance, but then he says, “Felix.  You’re supposed to have a hat.” 

“I don’t need a hat, Hyunjin,” Felix says with a sigh.  “I would like to talk to my bride for a minute.” 

“That is impossible,” Hyunjin says.  “You need a hat.  Come with me.”

It occurs to you that you are watching the two most emotional faeries in their courts, even if those emotions are aimed in strange directions, like hats.  Because Hyunjin is very adamant and Felix is very annoyed.  You are more than a little concerned that if things come to a head, it will turn horrifying without much effort.

Then Jisung leaps to his feet and puts himself between the two faerie princes.  It surprises everyone to silence.  Even Hyunjin stumbles to a stop.  He cocks his head like a predator regards a measly scrap of prey, eyes flashing as he takes a menacing step forward.  

Felix has no time to react.  You have no chance to scream. 

Jisung is a step ahead of everyone.

He bows.  Hyunjin stumbles to a stop for a second time.  It takes him a second to realize what has happened but when he does his eye twitches.  He bows back, then straightens with a huff.

Jisung bows again.  You slap a hand over your mouth to hide your surprised laugh.  Hyunjin looks far less amused.  Glaring, he bows too, as per the rules of politeness. 

Jisung leaps to the side and bows again, forcing Hyunjin to follow him.  He does this twice more, leading Hyunjin to the exit, bowing back and forth the whole time. 

“Make him stop!”  Hyunjin shrieks.

“Okay, okay!” Jisung says, hands raised in surrender.   He bows one more time, swooping low, then he turns and runs as fast as he can.

Hyunjin, obliged to return the bow, goes chasing after him with a frantic yelp. 

“Is he gonna be okay?” you ask, springing to your feet.  You dress falls neatly down. 

“Yes,” Felix says.  “Hyunjin won’t hurt humans.  He likes them too much.”  He turns to you then, his expression returned to a more passive neutrality, though you do not miss the way he looks you over.  “Will you be okay?” he asks.  “I’m sorry.  I thought we would have more time when we got here.  I didn’t know they would do this.” 

“It’s okay,” you say, too shy for a conversation after he very much watched you orgasm.  “Um.  Might as well, I guess… get it out of the way.” 

“Yes.”  He frowns at this, turning aside.  “You want to… get it out of the way.  I understand.  I’m sorry it had to be this way.  You don’t want to marry me.” 

He says it so plainly and without any hesitation.  He must believe it is the absolute truth.  For a moment, you can only stare at him, his handsome profile, the tendrils of sadness that tug at his features.  How did you never see it before?

“Felix,” you say gently.  He does not look at you.  You touch his arm and he looks at your hand.  “Felix, I am happy to marry you.  I love you.”  He looks up at that, his brow furrowed.  “And Jisung,” you add.  “I’m… I’m glad it happened this way.  So that you and I—”   He turns to you and your heart skips a few beats, affected by the warmth of his steady gaze.  “So that you and I could come together as well.  And now the three of us—” 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, then looks aside.  “I’m sorry.  That was forward, yeah?  I just… don’t want the first time to be out there.  Is that strange?  To be honest, sometimes I don’t know what’s strange or what isn’t.  The rules are different everywhere, you know?  I don’t think I’m doing a good job of this.  I’m sorry.  We don’t have to—”

You cup his face and kiss him.  It is very stiff for a moment, because you are both surprised by your brazen action.  He somehow grounds himself first, a careful hand curling around your hip to guide you a little closer.  A breath passes between you then he kisses you back. 

You touch his chest, making a sweet small sound into the kiss when his lips slide so softly against yours.  You are about to deepen it when Jisung interrupts with, “Aww, you’re kissing!  So cute!” 

You and Felix look over at him.  His hands are clasped and he is gushing as only Jisung can. 

“I thought you were running,” Felix says, with a hint of amusement. 

“Stupid labyrinth led me back here,” Jisung says.  He mimes zipping his lips shut and gestures to you.  “Keep kissing.  Pretend I’m not here.” 

“I wouldn’t want to pretend that,” Felix says, so sincerely that Jisung’s eyes widen.  They look at each other for a long moment, then Felix looks at you.  He cups your face. 

Then Hyunjin comes running in.  He swings his arms in a dramatic flail and flower petals fly everywhere.  The leaf dog comes running in and starts nipping at the air, trying to catch the petals.  In the midst of this chaos, Hyunjin storms up to Jisung and promptly bows.  Then he shoves him to the side and grabs Felix by the arm.

“Hat!” he shouts.  “Now!” 

-

It is a twenty-six hour wedding ceremony.  You and Jisung fall asleep halfway through festivity number twelve, curled up under a furry blanket near a fire pit.  You wake when Felix lifts your head into his lap.  Jisung is already curled up with his head on your belly, so you smile and snuggle into Felix.  He cups your face and strokes your cheek, the flickering firelight casting shadows on his face, making his smile seem bigger than usual. 

The consummation ritual is last.  It takes place inside the castle, in a beautiful room that appears to have been designed for this express purpose.  The mossy stone walls are decorated with dried flowers, the plush bed laden with thick red throws and burgundy cushions.   Despite the tall open windows, there is no autumn chill, a lit fireplace cozying the room with its warmth.

It would be a lovely chamber if not for the translucent curtain with a literal audience behind it.  The winter and summer princes sit ramrod straight, so uninterested in their surroundings that it actually puts you at ease.  Hyunjin looks… a little too eager to be honest, but you aren’t convinced he understands this ritual anymore than anything else today. 

Jisung is side-eying Jeongin, who is sitting beside him because Hyunjin refused to sit by ‘the annoying changeling brat’.  Minho is sitting between Jeongin and Hyunjin, casting the occasional side-eye to the spring prince.  Despite his stoic countenance, his displeasure with the company is clear. 

Honestly, the whole tableau is quite comedic.  You find yourself trying to stifle laughter when Felix finally arrives.  You were sent to separate rooms to undress and change into robes, but you arrived here first.   Felix looks at you curiously, clearly perplexed by your laughter. 

“You’re not nervous anymore,” he observes. 

“No,” you say.  “I’ve just been thinking like a faerie.” 

He tilts his head at that.  You smile and kiss him, a chaste kiss that makes his lashes flutter.  The little reaction tickles a flurry of butterflies in your belly.  You hold his hand and lead him to the bed where you sit down.  His eyes shift with a nervous scuttle, but he follows the direction of your hand when you gesture to him. 

You keep your eyes on his, intensely locked as you lift his hand and take two fingers in your mouth.  When you close your lips around his fingers and gently suck, his breath catches.  It echoes in Jisung. 

Then Jeongin whispers loudly, “Is she going to eat him?”  He sounds moderately intrigued. 

“Be quiet,” Hyunjin replies. 

“I think it’s over,” Minho says, catching onto your ruse before anyone else.  

You smile and open your eyes.  You separate from Felix and turn your head to the silhouettes beyond the curtain. 

“A penetrative performance,” you state.   “I believe that was the requirement.  And I believe that should qualify.” 

You are stretching the meaning of those words and you know it, but that’s what faeries do.  His fingers ‘penetrated’ the breach of your mouth, so it should count on the most technical level. 

“All done,” you say with a smile and wave. 

“So you’re not eating him?”  Jeongin says, frowning. 

Minho is the first one to stand.  He flicks Jeongin’s forehead as he passes, but otherwise says nothing before fleeing the room.  Jeongin follows with a slightly disgruntled shuffle, then Hyunjin stomps his foot. 

“Humans,” he says, marching past Jisung. 

The door closes behind Hyunjin.  Jisung claps a hand over his mouth and laughs into it, so hard he has to put a hand over his stomach as he doubles over.   Felix laughs too, a pleasantly low rumble that he tries to stifle with a cough.  You smile up at him, leaning back on your palms and admiring him in the warm orange light.  He tucks some hair behind his ear, regarding you with a very tender gaze when he nods his head in a curt little bow. 

“All done,” he says.  It makes your brow furrow: the little shift in tone, the tension that still draws his shoulders back.  You realize that even after everything, he is still uncertain about his place.  Even Jisung knows where he belongs, not for a moment thinking he should leave the room, but Felix takes a step away from the bed like he intends to do just that.

You grab his hand, drawing his attention back to you.  Blonde hair falls around his face, shadowing it.  He doesn’t quite meet your eyes, gaze somewhere on your chin. 

“Felix,” you say.  His fingers tighten around yours and it feels like a question.  You answer by tugging that hand, drawing him closer.  His eyes flash gold when you drop his hand to open your robe.  This time you can hear Jisung’s sharp breath too, all laughter subsiding as you let the robe fall off your shoulders, laying yourself bare before Felix. 

He looks awed but stricken.  You can see when he swallows.  He looks at Jisung then back at you, his brow furrowing.  His lips twitch in a bid to speak but no words come.   

It would be funny, this supernatural being somehow struck dumb by you in your most vulnerable state, but your smile is more affectionate than amused.

“Felix,” you say again.  “Have you ever done something like this before?” 

He shakes his head frantically, his eyes still running up and down your body. 

“No,” he says.  “Uh, no.  No.  I can – feel something when Jisung – when you – I mean—”  He chokes on an awkward laugh, turning away for a second. 

“I fucking knew it!”  Jisung says, poking his head between the folds of the curtain.  “Bro, you’re such a liar.  I asked if you could feel when we fuck and you said no!”

“I can’t lie,” Felix replies, turning to Jisung.  He forgets to be embarrassed while arguing, very plainly and patiently stating his case.  “I told you most faeries don’t think about sex like humans and that I couldn’t be certain what you were doing, yeah?  And I can’t.  And I would have told you more but you only asked the first time and I didn’t know you were going to keep… being with her.  And I – I didn’t want to make things awkward… for you… okay?  By thinking of me every time… so I just… What are you smiling at?”  His deep voice breaks, pitching comically higher for a second. 

Jisung is smirking and nodding, just a floating head with a vague silhouetted body behind the curtain. 

“Man,” Jisung says, “you’ve been acting like a monk but secretly jacking it while we get freaky in the other room… That’s naughty.”

Felix draws his mouth into a flat line then looks at you for help.  You are trying to hold in your giggles, lips pressed tight together.  When he looks at you, you exhale, waving at Jisung to back down for a second.  He ducks behind the curtain again, giggling to himself like the menace he is. 

Fortunately, Felix is easy to distract.  All it takes is opening your legs for his all his attention to zero in there.  He swallows again. 

“Sounds like we’ve been teasing you too long,” you say, your voice drawing his eyes back up to your face.  You smile and beckon him forward.  “Come on.  Let me make it up to you.” 

He looks like he is going to deflect politely, either because he is a faerie or because he is Felix, but then you grab his robe and yank him closer.  He stumbles up to you, his fingers fluttering at his sides and his shoulders still tense.  You take one of his hands and place it on the side of your face, soothing him with another gentle smile as you unknot his robe.

He is already very hard and this seems to fluster him, but he points to the curtain and sputters, “He’s – touching—“ 

“Fuck yeah I am,” Jisung says. 

“Jisung, shh,” you say, trying not to giggle again.  “And slow down.  You’re always so impatient.” 

“Am not,” Jisung says, but you can see him lean back, folding his hands behind his head. 

You look up at Felix, holding his gaze the way you did when you sucked his fingers.  You like the way he twitches and breathes harder, the way his eyes flash, the way his jaw clenches.  His thumb curls under your jaw when your mouth slides over him.  You can’t help but moan when his whole face contorts with more natural emotion than you have ever seen from him.  His breath stutters and stops and starts, his sounds so low and guttural that you feel them inside you. 

“Oh, fuck, dude,” Jisung says, rasping.  You pull back just a little, drooling and stroking with your hand, and glancing at Jisung out of the corner of your eye.  He lifts his hips and squeezes himself over his pants.  “We were fucking torturing you, holy fuck.”   

“Mmmmrrgh,” is the approximate sound Felix makes.  His eyes are partially-lidded, his expression one of immense concentration.  He pulls your face back to him with a flick of his wrist.  Appetent and quite demanding, he leads your mouth back onto him and holds you in place to shallowly and gently fuck your mouth.  He makes a pleased sound, one of deep relief, his head lolling back and the tension leaving his shoulders.   

You let him set the pace, matching the animal instinct that overcomes him.  He stops himself when he’s close, breathing hard and stepping back.  You want to ask if he is okay, but you have to flex your jaw and your voice is momentarily shot.  Before you can find that voice, he turns to the curtain and says, “Show me what you did earlier.  I want – I want to do that too.” 

There is a quiet moment, Jisung maybe surprised at the sudden attention, but then the curtain parts and Jisung steps all the way through.  He has unbuttoned his shirt to the navel, his partially unzipped pants doing nothing to hide the bulge behind his fly.  The sight of him sets off more sparks, especially when he winks at you with all his cheeky wantonness.

Felix gives Jisung a once-over too, pushing a hand through his hair and steadying his breathing.  His features look sharper than ever, darkened with a determined resolve.  He says nothing when Jisung sweeps behind him.  Jisung wiggles his eyebrows at you while he gathers Felix’s robe and slides it off his shoulders. 

“She likes your freckles,” Jisung offers by way of explanation, smooching Felix’s freckled shoulder with a playful little mwah. 

Felix tilts his head and looks at you.  “Really?” he asks.  “I can’t fully scrub them off the glamour. I think it’s somehow your fault.”  This is aimed at Jisung.

“Everything’s my fault!” Jisung says with a great deal of pride. 

“Why would you want to get rid of them?” you blurt, showing just as much as horror as you did when meeting the cannibal faerie.   Felix without his freckles is equally abhorrent.

Felix looks at you, thoughtfully.  Firelight is flickering over the room but you do not think it is a trick of shadow when his freckles seem to darken everywhere. 

“Aw,” Jisung says.  “He’s flirting.” 

Felix looks at him with a certain degree of exasperation.  “Show me what I asked,” he says. 

“Oh, wow, okay, geez, pushy,” Jisung says, circling so he standing beside Felix.  Felix drops the rest of the robe, evidently not the slightest bit shy to be standing there naked.  Now your gaze is the roving one, jumping between them, darting upward when Jisung cups Felix’s face and turns it to him. 

“You need to turn her on first, man,” Jisung says, swaying to the playful rhythm of his own voice.  Felix follows, but his eyes narrow into judgemental slits.  Jisung seems unbothered by this, standing still, tucking some hair behind Felix’s ear.  “C’mooon,” he says, with an impatient little shoulder wiggle and a laugh.  “She likes you… she likes me… as they say… badda bing badda boom…”

“I don’t think they say that during sex,” Felix says, frowning. 

“He’s right,” you say, giggling. 

Jisung sighs and looks at you.  “No audience participation,” he says, miming a zip across his lips.  “Just sit there and look pretty, baby.  We’ll get to you.” 

Felix looks at you.  Jisung leans close to whisper in his ear.  You try to decipher what he is saying based on Felix, but all Felix does is furrow his eyebrows then look sideways at Jisung.  There is a moment of quiet, then they smile at the same time.

Felix delicately cups Jisung’s chin.

The last time you caught them kissing, it spurred only jealousy.  But that was different.  That was your childish reaction to exclusion, your own anxieties speaking over everything else.  This time, you are not outside of their connection.  You even swear you can feel the faintest tingling on your own lips when they gently come together in a feather-light kiss.   

Their hands trace similar paths, Felix’s slipping into Jisung’s pants and Jisung touching him back.  The kiss deepens until their tongues touch, then Jisung giggles while Felix grins.  They look at you at the same time.

“Go,” Jisung says, nudging Felix forward. 

They let go of each other and Felix climbs up on the bed, guiding you backwards until your head is on a pillow.  Long tendrils of blonde hair brush your cheeks. He lays over you and kisses you, pressing your head into the cushion.  Even lost in his kiss, you can sense Jisung with a fuzzy awareness.  You recognize the familiar touch of his palm, his hand gliding up your inner thigh.  Felix makes room, joining Jisung at your thighs.  You twitch with an instinctive little jerk, pushing yourself up on your elbows to look at them.  Jisung puts a finger over his lips and shushes you, smiling. 

“We got it, we got it…” he says.  He cups the back of Felix’s head and pushes his head down to your pussy. 

Felix glances up at you, then him, then down.  His eyes close and he sticks out his tongue, his expression one of the sweetest pleasure when he puts his mouth on you.   What he lacks in skill, he compensates with eagerness, messily diving in with an open mouth, licking and kissing and making a mess of himself.  Jisung threads his fingers into his hair and tugs, laughing a little. 

“Easy, easy,” he says.  He and Felix look at each other as Jisung lowers his own face.  When he puts his expert mouth on you, your head falls back, thighs parting further.  You throw your arms over your head and dig your fingers into the cushions.  You chase the rhythm of his tongue, looking down when it stops, when Felix replaces him. 

“See, look at her,” Jisung says.  Felix looks up at you.  “Just like that.” 

Then Jisung joins him.  They torturously alternate whose mouth is on you.  Jisung dives at Felix, licking across his wet lips and kissing him before returning to you.  You can hardly tell one mouth from the next, gasping under two tongues as they stroke you and each other, matching blonde heads bobbing in perfect coordination between your thighs.  It is inhumanly perfect, so harmonious that it almost agonizing.  This is how mortals lose their minds here, you think.

Eventually you are so wound up that you can’t help but cry out. 

“Oh noo,” Jisung says, very unrepentant as lays beside you.  “I think we were teasing her… That’s so mean of us, isn’t it, baby?  Huh?”  He pinches your face in his hand, cooing at you while you playfully glare.  He giggles and kisses you, your own wet desire smeared across his lips.  “You’re so wet, baby,” he says, sliding his hand down your body and over your pussy, easing his fingers through the wetness there.  When you whimper, he whimpers back in faux sympathy, pouting and nodding.  “I know, poor baby,” he says, curling his fingers inside you.

Felix’s eyes light up, watching.  He props himself up on one hand and touches you with the other.  You make a sound against Jisung’s mouth, a breathy moan as Felix slides his fingers in too.  It’s thick, that many fingers at once and so suddenly.  Your thighs jerk and you whine into Jisung’s mouth.  You see stars when you close your eyes, their fingers moving at the same time inside you.  They share a heartbeat, a rhythm, not faulting in the slightest.

For a moment, you just lay there and dizzily take it, stretched around their fingers, wet and silky hot and so turned on that you feel like you’re floating. 

“Jisung,” Felix says in his rough, deep voice.

“I know,” Jisung replies, just as hoarse.    

Their fingers leave you and Jisung grabs your throat with that same hand, slick fingers nudging your chin to look at him.  Your breath catches and you think Felix’s breath catches too. 

“That’s my girl,” Jisung says, reaching down at the same Felix reaches up, a hand on each breast, teasing the pebbled peaks.  You squirm and Jisung returns his hand to your throat, smiling at you so innocently, scrunching up his eyes with delight.  “Good girl,” he says, squeezing.  Felix gasps then moans, sucking kisses wherever his mouth lazily roams.  Jisung places those same hot kisses on your neck, each kiss landing one after the other, lighting every nerve.  Teeth and tongue lave at your skin, no doubt bruising it with each little love bite. 

“That’s it,” Jisung says, and you really start to think your human boyfriend is made of more magic than autumnal flurries.  His dark eyes sparkle in the light, his mischievous smirk lighting up his handsome face.  He is so giggly and sweet despite the dastardly torture of his hands and mouth. 

You find yourself sinking into the sensations, eyes closed, body running on instinct. 

“Felix,” Jisung says.  His hand leaves your throat, sliding down your body.  You realize he is spreading your pussy lips again, teasing as Felix pushes inside you.  It is easy now that you have taken so many fingers, but the knowledge of what is happening, of who is fucking you, makes your breath stutter and eyes open. 

“Ohh,” is the only sound you can make, watery eyes on where Felix is moving slowly in and out of you.  His brow is furrowed again, that look of concentration, then he groans and all but sprawls on top of you, fucking you with messy abandon.   Jisung thumps his head heavily onto the cushion, panting heavily, as if he was fucking you. 

“Felix, you gotta—”  Jisung says, his own face twisted up with a tortured sort of pleasure.   Felix does not listen to him, still rocking his hips with a frantic unevenness.  It feels good and crazy and wild, your head lolling to the side, a hum in your throat. 

Jisung finds the resolve to push himself up, groaning with the effort.  You watch him roughly manhandle Felix, yanking his head up to get him to concentrate.  Felix’s eyes flash gold then go dark.  His mouth is hanging open and his cheeks are flushed.  He never stops moving. 

“And you said I was impatient,” Jisung murmurs, grabbing Felix’s hips and evening out his rhythm.  You suppose it stands to reason that if Jisung is the most pussy-drunk man you have ever known, than Felix would be too.  Except Felix actually is magic, and everything about Jisung seems to multiply in Felix.  He looks completely overcome.  Then Jisung suddenly asks, “Good tears or bad?”

“Good,” Felix rasps. 

“So you wanna keep going?”

“Ye-es,” Felix hiccups, then suddenly starts crying, all the messy human-ness mixing with his confusing faerie-ness, coming together in an explosive physical and emotional mania that has him burying his face in your neck and fucking you so deep and hard that your own sniffles start. 

“Yes,” you say at the same time as him, wrapping your arms around his neck.  Jisung touches your hand, his other still guiding Felix’s hips.  Felix moans in your throat then marginally turns his head. 

“Jisung,” he says.  “I can’t—unless you—”      

Jisung very unceremoniously shoves a hand down his pants, then looks up at you and smiles. 

“Okay,” Jisung says.  He moves and Felix sinks back inside you, moaning deeply, clutching you possessively.  You hold him back as fiercely, blinking up at Jisung when kneels near your face.  “Come on, baby,” Jisung says, his thumb tugging at your bottom lip. 

“Yes,” Felix says, nodding at him and at you. 

You open your mouth, nodding at Jisung.  His pants get tossed somewhere and he removes his shirt at the same time his dick pushes past your lips.  They really do fuck with an extraordinary identicalness, perfectly matched without a word.  It is easy to fall into their rhythm, not even straining.  You feel like you were born to be here, between them, sharing them, sharing yourself with them. 

They come at the same time, Felix with his cheek pressed to yours, Jisung with his head thrown back.  They lay down on either side of you, flopping back at the same time. Felix has a completely dazed look on his face, his breath stuttering when you tuck some of his sweaty hair back.  He looks at you like he is seeing you for the first time all over again. 

All three of you exhale at once.  The resulting giggle comes in three-way unison too. 

“Wow,” Felix finally says.  “It’s much more fun like this.”

“Hell yeah,” Jisung says, holding out his fist for a bump.  You swat it down before Felix can return it.  Jisung just laughs, snuggling up to you. 

Felix also rolls onto his side. He tucks one hand under his head and touches your face with the other.  You and Jisung both look at him, his faraway stare, the way a small smile unfurls on his face.

“You’re mine now,” he says.  “Forever.  Yeah?”  It’s posed like a question but evidently it is already fact to him, or he could not say it. 

“Forever and ever,” Jisung says easily, stretching out on the royal bedsheets like he has always belonged there. 

Felix looks at you for an answer too, still smiling.  You are not as easy as Jisung, but you try hard not to overthink. 

But you remember so many stories of humans wandering in the faerie world, never seen or heard from again, the tales of their disappearances ranging from beautiful to horrifying.  You think it would be impudent to think yourself different or better than them.  They thought they were safe too. 

The question tumbles past your lips before you can think twice: 

“Your true name,” you say.  “Would you still give it to me if I asked?” 

He clearly does not expect the question.  He blinks quickly, then his gaze darts to the side.  You look there to see Jisung nodding off, already half-asleep on your shoulder.  Felix is not sleeping.  You look at him, wondering still about the sometimes contradictory depth of their connection. 

“Aren’t you tired too?” you ask. 

“A little,” he says. 

You realize he didn’t answer your other question and you open your mouth to ask again.  He kisses you, cupping your face, making a happy sound when you kiss him back.  Jisung makes his own little happy sound, sighing on your shoulder. 

“I love you,” Felix says, speaking soft and low against your lips.  He strokes the side of your face.  “I want you to stay with me forever.” 

“You’d really tell me your true name?” you ask. 

“I’d do anything for you,” he says.  “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Felix,” you say, about to say more when he kisses you again.  He smiles so big and bright, it crinkles the corner of his eyes.  

“You do,” he says.  “That’s the truth.  You love me like you love him.” 

“It’s the same but different,” you say.   “Like how you love both me and Jisung.”

He is still smiling.  He kisses the corner of your mouth sweetly.  “The same but different,” he says.  “Yes.  I understand.” 

He draws you into his arms and kisses the crown of your head, sighing a happy sigh.  Jisung curls up behind you, already fast asleep while Felix murmurs sweet love confessions at you until you fall asleep too, nestled tightly and safely in his arms.


Tags :
7 months ago

what friends do

What Friends Do
What Friends Do
What Friends Do

pairing: felix x gn!reader w. 2.1k genre: fluff, a bit of angst and suggestive content summary: at some point a few months ago, felix kissed you for the first time. you didn't mean to catch feelings, but the lazy make-out sessions on his couch were melting your heart. warnings: swearing a/n: this is a fic i wrote on ao3 almost a year ago for @ppiri-bahng! i just wanted to post it on here. unlikely for a part 2 but enjoy :)

What Friends Do

At some point a few months ago, Felix kissed you for the first time.

You'd been friends for years up to this point. You met him not long before his debut, so you're his day one. There was always something about the way you interacted with each other that felt so right, and it's why you became such close friends so fast. You spent all the time in the world together, and you'd spend every moment of every day with him, if you could. Felix had agreed with you once that you were soulmates. He was the best friend you'd ever had.

There was nearly nothing you didn't tell or do with Felix. He knew all of your secrets, little facts about you, every person in your life that was significant to you, and it was reciprocated on your end. You two knew each other like the back of your hand, and it felt as if nothing could ever separate you. There was nothing you wouldn't do for Felix, and there was nothing he wouldn't do for you.

So, when he asked if he could kiss you, you said yes.

What Friends Do

"Hey."

Your eyes opened, previously closed as your head was slumped onto Felix's shoulder. The television in front of you had some romantic comedy movie on, but you weren't nearly awake enough to know what it was about. You moved your head off of the boy next to you and looked over at him, his chocolate eyes returning your gaze. "Yeah?"

"Would you kiss me?" Felix let his words out nonchalantly, which you struggled to tell if it was the byproduct of his exhaustion or if it was his attitude towards the question in general. His eyes never left yours, so you assumed there was some care behind it.

You shrugged. "Uhh, I don't see why not. Why, do you wanna kiss me or something?" The thought of kissing Felix hadn't really crossed your mind, aside from the few times you stared at his lips a little too long and wondered how soft they were. But really, you'd never thought that way of him.

"I might." Felix pursed his lips and stared at you, which you almost immediately picked up on what he was doing. The look in his eyes and his expression was one you'd seen a million times before, it what was Felix did when he wanted something. You'd usually see it in the context of him wanting some food or to go out, but the look never changed.

Your eyebrows furrowed a little bit, wondering his intentions. Felix never liked you in that way, at least that's what he claimed. "Is this just a totally platonic thing between friends? Why do you want me to kiss you?"

"I just.." Felix trailed off for a moment, tapping his finger on his leg, "I want to kiss you because I miss kissing. The few times I've done it, it was always so nice and fun.. and I thought you'd be chill with it. It's not a romantic thing for me. It's just something I've wanted to do for a while, but I get it if you don't want to."

"No, no.. I get it. If it's not changing anything between us, I don't really see why not. Kissing is fun."

Felix smiled and nodded softly. He let out a sigh of relief and put his arm around your shoulder. "Can I kiss you now?"

"Yeah."

That's where it started. The first time you put your hand on his chest and your lips collided, his hands finding their way to cupping your cheek and the back of your neck, pulling you in close. When you first found out that you were right, his lips were as soft as they seemed. An assortment of little pecks turns slower and into deeper, longer kisses that are more drawn out and intimate. You didn't expect him to kiss you for that long, but you didn't mind. He was a good kisser, which he occupied you with for three minutes the first time around.

Every time the two of you broke apart for little gasps of air, he'd give you these smiles that would break you. Something made kissing him so fun and easy, so addicting and great. The way your hand rose and fell as it stayed planted on his chest made your heart flutter a little. Fuck, wait. No, that's a little too much. A little weird.

Then, it kept happening.

You'd be sitting around in the dorm kitchen, cooking up a meal, and a pair of arms would surround your waist. You'd look down, seeing skinny arms covered in freckles, and smile. Felix needed kisses. You'd tell him to leave you be, that you had to pay attention to your food, but his little pecks on your neck and cheek got you hooked. You'd end up with food burning as you were pressed into the kitchen counter, giving slow, sloppy kisses to Felix for far too long. When he finally let you go, he'd apologize for burning your food and take you out to eat.

Then it was movie night again. Then it was in his room. Then your room.

Felix turned out to love kissing a lot more than you expected. Almost any time you were alone together turned into a lazy make out session. You'd learned the ins and outs of what he liked, how your mouths fit together just right, how eager he was to add tongue, or how he'd always smile into the kiss when you wrapped your arms around his waist or put your hand on his chest.

Every time you'd pull away from him, finally stopping, you'd often end up laying your head on his chest and your head felt fuzzy. Your brain hadn't felt like this before, which was utterly confusing. This was your best friend, but every time you made out with him, your stomach would pull flips and feel like you had butterflies. But, in your head, he was just a friend.

Was he?

What Friends Do

You sat on Felix's bed, scrolling your Twitter feed and turning your brain off to the real world. The room was nice and just cold enough for you to be wearing one of Felix's sweaters, which was your favorite. He'd always let you borrow them when it was cold in the house, and they smelled like him. They smelled like home, always taking you to a safe space mentally and cooling your anxiety for a bit.

Peering past your phone, you tuned back in to hear angry phrases coming out of Felix as he sat at his desk. Watching Felix play games was funny, since he never seemed to improve much at them. He always got mad when he lost, and overjoyed when he won. It was obvious he was playing a losing game, and it would be over shortly. You watched on, picking up more about how the game worked, as he gave up and the game ended. He threw his arms up in exasperation, standing up from his desk.

"You okay?" You knew he wouldn't ever really be upset over a game, not in a true way. Though, you always liked to ask so he could vent his frustrations and feel better faster.

"Yeah, fuck, it's just-" Felix let out a long sigh, covering his face with his hands, "I hate playing this game. I always end up losing a bad game and I'm in a bad mood for a while. I don't even know why I play it."

"Awh, 'lix," You opened your arms, "Come here."

Felix walked over slowly to the bed, slumping his body into yours and burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your heart tensed, a warm feeling shooting through your body as you wrapped your arms around him and held him close. He let out soft murmurs, speaking angrily under his breath in an unintelligible way that you couldn't make out what he was saying.

You rubbed his back softly in silence until he finally sat up on his own, looking at you. You met his eyes, entranced in his beauty for a few moments before you looked at his expression. Your eyebrows furrowed. "Felix.."

"Please?"

Fuck. Felix's smooth, deep voice always won you over. As soon as he pleaded with you, you folded for him. Your mouth pursed as you tried to fight off a smile, looking away as you took a deep sigh. "Okay, fine."

Felix smiled giddily and let out a small noise of excitement, which hit you in the gut again. You leaned back against the wall behind you, legs dangling over the short side of the bed as Felix climbed onto your lap. You reached up and brushed a bit of hair out of his face, which he smiled at. Your heart wasn't dealing well with this. Before you could keep thinking, he pressed his lips against yours and you were taken into a mind-numbing state of bliss.

Your arms stayed firmly wrapped around his waist to keep him secure as his hands stayed planted on your neck and cheek. Your kisses were always perfectly slow and tender, Felix never liking to rush through it. The way his lips dragged almost lazily over yours drove you crazy, but you took it at his pace, as much as you'd like to go faster.

At least he was a crazy good kisser. You could never get bored of kissing him, even if you had to spend an hour doing it. You just might, as your longest kissing session went for half an hour with only two small breaks in it. Making out with Felix could take up all your time, and you'd be okay with it. As much as you hated how much you liked kissing him, it was true.

So when he finally pulled away from you a few minutes later, you felt a tensing in your gut. Your lips formed a thin line as you looked down at the bed, unable to contain how you were feeling. Every time you kissed, your feelings for him got progressively worse. You'd reached a breaking point.

"You alright?"

Your chest got a strike of pain through it. The innocence and caring in Felix's deep voice could've shattered you in that moment. You were a house of cards spilled all over the floor. You wanted so badly to tell him a lie, tell him everything was normal and fine, but you knew deep down it wasn't true. You loved him.

"No." Your voice shook, tears forming in your eyes. It was too much to handle.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm here. What's wrong?" Felix stroked your hair softly, leaning down to try to see your face.

You pressed your face directly into his chest, a place that had grown to be your comfort spot. His scent filled you with that soothing feeling, but your stomach turned again and you knew it meant something different now than it did before. A tear slid down your cheek. "I can't do this anymore, Felix. It's too much for me."

"Too much for you? Am I making you uncomfortable? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," Felix wrapped his arms around you and held you close.

"No, it's not that at all," Your voice broke, trying not to sob, "I think.. somewhere in this whole kissing thing.. I caught feelings for you. I haven't been able to tell you because I didn't want to make it weird, but it was making me feel so guilty.. and I was liking this too much for my own good. I get it if you don't want to hang out with me anymore, Felix. I'm sorry."

Felix froze for a little bit. He continued to hold you and stroke your hair, but he was silent for long enough to make you worry. Your heart ached as you realized that this might be the end of your relationship with him.

"I think I did, too."

"What?" You pulled back suddenly from his chest, meeting his eyes.

Felix's brows furrowed as he nodded. "I wasn't lying when I wanted to kiss you because I missed kissing.. but I think I did it partly because I wanted to kiss you specifically, and I thought I'd fuck things up between us if I tried to make it more than friends."

"Oh, Felix.." You broke into a smile, a few tears still rolling down your face, "You should've told me."

"I know.. I just couldn't get myself to do it. You were in my head all the time, driving me crazy. I knew it wasn't what friends do, but it was the only way I could still be normal friends with you without going mad."

"So, does that mean we can kiss.. like, not just as friends?"

"Yeah."


Tags :
10 months ago

slowly to me

Slowly To Me
Slowly To Me
Slowly To Me

=͟͟͞♡ virgin!felix × noona!fem reader

=͟͟͞♡ bestfriends/roommates to lovers

word count: 7.4K

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

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

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

Slowly To Me

[00:17 AM] fefe 🧚‍♀️

noona 💙

are you awake?

please tell me you are

I can't find my keys 😪

i know it's late

don't hate me

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

[00:18 AM] fefe 🧚‍♀️

noona 😪😪

[00:18 AM] you

where are you now

[00:18 AM] fefe 🧚‍♀️

outside 😪

noona, my savior

my only light in the darkness 💙

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Noona..." he answers timidly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Felix moans when you start licking at his lips again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You. And Felix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Felix smiles. The room is not dark anymore.

Slowly To Me

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


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