mandy

00'liner // stray kids // 18+ MDNI

[cookielixie]

𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲, 𝟎𝟎'𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫, 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

if you want to be added to my taglist, fill out this form ! you are responsible for notifying me whenever you change your username - if i can't tag you i will remove you from the list.

i accept requests for drabbles and fake texts :)

click here for my skz text prompt list

💙 - social media au 💚 - fake texts 💛 - drabbles 🩷 - one shots

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍

╰► enemies to lovers 💚

╰► "ohh you wanna kiss me so bad" 💚

╰► you're not wearing a bra 💚

╰► he calls you clingy 💚

╰► "go on, keep pretending everything's fine" 💚

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐎

╰► love and war: y/n has her life and future all planned out living a comfortable and predictable life. but all of that changes when lee minho comes into her life like a hurricane and shows her what she’s been missing all along 💙

╰► enemies to lovers 💚

╰► "ohh you wanna kiss me so bad" 💚

╰► you're not wearing a bra 💚

╰► roommate au 💚

╰► he calls you clingy 💚

𝐒𝐄𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍

╰► you're not wearing a bra 💚

╰► he calls you clingy 💚

𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍

╰► you're not wearing a bra 💚

╰► he calls you clingy 💚

𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆

╰► you're not wearing a bra 💚

╰► he calls you clingy 💚

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗

╰► the mixtapes: y/n is in love with her best friend. what other way to express yourself than posting mixtapes about your love on twitter? 💙

╰► draped in blue: you lost all hope in true love when your last relationship went south. since then you poured all your love and energy into the one thing you could rely on: streaming. but what happens when you meet someone that makes you want to love again? 💙

╰► underneath the mistletoe: a group of meddling friends, a sprig of mistletoe, and a month full of holiday mischief—what could go wrong? For y/n and felix, their obliviousness to their own feelings is only rivaled by their friends’ determination to push them together. as december unfolds, so do a series of awkward, sweet, and unexpected moments that might just make this christmas unforgettable. 🩷

╰► stealing his hoodie 💚

╰► you're not wearing a bra 💚

╰► he calls you clingy 💚

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍

╰► "ohh you wanna kiss me so bad" 💚

╰► you're not wearing a bra 💚

╰► he calls you clingy 💚

╰► "go on, keep pretending everything's fine" 💚

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍

╰► he calls you clingy / part two 💚

╰► you're not wearing a bra 💚

𝐎𝐓𝟖

nothing yet :(

[archivingkal]

last updated: 25/03/2025

note: unless otherwise stated everything on this list is completed

BANG CHAN

LOVER OF MINE BY @sulfurcosmos (SMAU)

she doesn’t hate him, she just... doesn’t want anything to do with him anymore. “it’s bad for my heart”, she claims. and she succeeds for a whole year until her clown of a friend felix, decides to take up music production as a summer extra credit unit knowing absolutely nothing about writing lyrics or composing. now who else to ask for help other than a creative writing major who specialises in poetry, and the best music production student on campus?

FACE THE MUSIC BY @0x1lovebot (SMAU)

y/n runs an anonymous twitter fan account for the famous rap trio that goes to her school, 3racha and one day she professes her love and appreciation for bang chan on said account. now chan is on a mission to find out who it is.

SORRY, RIGHT NUMBER BY @feelbokkie (SMAU)

Being an idol can be lonely and isolating. After one fun and adventurous night at a bar, Chan decides to text the girl he met the night before. Except, she gave him the the wrong number?

IF WE COULD TURN BACK TIME BY @lieslab

After a Dispatch article leaks, your betrayed boyfriend kicks you out of your shared apartment and you're silenced in the worst way possible.

NIGHT AGAIN BY @chahnniesroom

in hindsight, visiting chan's studio right before a comeback isn't one of your best ideas. what was supposed to be a pleasant surprise leaves you spiraling into self-doubt, wondering if chan even wants to be in a relationship with you at all.

FATE BROUGHT US TOGETHER AGAIN BY @beautifulchris (SMAU)

after spending two years abroad, you come back to the only college that accepted you; the same chris goes to

the prequel: LOVE DIE YOUNG

CURE BY @gamerwoo (HANAHAKI AU)

Chan was in love with a girl that didn’t return his feelings, and as his best friend, you wanted to help him through it. But his options were either to make her fall in love with him, make him fall out of love with her, or for him to get the disease removed, and he was dead set on avoiding the latter.

LEE MINHO

FELINE APPROVAL BY @ivyues

How Soonie and Lee Know agreed you were the one. (the definition of short and sweet)

THE JOURNAL BY @theright-sideofme (SMAU)

When y/n loses her most prize possession, what are the chances of her high school ex finding it? Apparently, suprisingly high.

SEO CHANGBIN

PUSH + PULL BY @yoongisleftearring (SMAU)

in which you are trying to survive college life but seem to have a thorn in your side in the form of Seo Changbin. After years of hating each other can you decide to remain civil with the handsome rapper? (let’s just hope he doesn’t come across that private thirst account you have for him)

THE ALTERNATIVE BY @astraystayyh

You've diligently chased the idea of being with Changbin out of your mind. That is until he picks you up from a bad date, making your steadfast resolve unravel all around you.

HWANG HYUNJIN

PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT BY @soobnny

hyunjin stresses how important it is that you help him practice for his role in your university’s upcoming play, especially the kissing scene.

THE WAY WE STOPPED BEING ALMOST AND BECAME ALWAYS BY @mykoreanlove

(the title for this one is pretty self explanatory and it's just as easily a wonderful read)

HAN JISUNG

NUMBER NEIGHBOUR BY @softyn (SMAU)

Jisung has been a fan of y/n since he can remember, what will happen when y/n posts her new youtube video texting her number neighbor who turned out to be Jisung?

SUNSHINE BY @svngbins (SMAU)

y/n’s only secret is that she’s in love with her childhood best friend, jisung. the only problem? y/n’s other best friend, aerin, has a not-so-secret crush on jisung.

LEE FELIX

THE MIXTAPES BY @cookielixie (SMAU)

y/n is in love with her bestfriend. what other way to express yourself than posting mixtapes about your love on twitter?

SO NOT WORTH IT BY @lemon-boy-stan (SMAU)

felix joins the popular kids after becoming bang chan's roommate. when he and y/n collide, the twitter world goes beserk. (loosely based on the k-drama so not worth it).

KIM SEUNGMIN

MY VALENTINE KIM SEUNGMIN BY @pixiefelixie

your 17-year-old dog, who had survived chocolate poisoning, a bicycle accident, and a raccoon fight, finally passed away peacefully—proving that even the most legendary warriors must one day retire. in your grief, you completely fell apart, only to realize your usually sarcastic boyfriend might actually be capable of being soft and supportive—something even more shocking than your dog’s immortality finally running out.

YELLOW STICKER BY @/soobnny

kim seungmin, resident fuckboy turned soft boy, is on a mission to quit smoking

YANG JEONGIN

IT'S NOT THE END OF THE WORLD BY @staysuki (SMAU)

it was either you're a coward who couldn't confess your hidden feelings towards your crush who you've been best friends with since high school OR perhaps fate is just conspiring against you to make your timing with yang jeongin to never be quite right— it's definitely the second one, right? oh well, at least it's not the end of the world.

MY GIRL BY @/soobnny

the boys find out their youngest has a gf

OT8

CLUELESS BY @hanniebaeee

Just eight boys and their very chaotic group chat.

TRUE SOULMATE SERIES BY @imagine-a-life-like-this

(eight stories about different soulmate 'marks'/'systems' in a completely unconnected universe so you can read in whatever order your heart desires or just read the one that interests you the most but they're all very fun to read)

SOOBNNY'S MASTERLIST BY SUE

(as you can probably see I'm a little bit of a sue truther so please head on over to her masterlist and read her works - please and thanks)

more to come...

[cookielixie]

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR PUTTING MY FIC IN YOUR RECS 😭🩷🩷

[cookielixie]

hello guys,

i just wanted to pop in and say that the last few months have been pretty hectic for me, between breaking off my engagement and moving back to my childhood home I’ve just been taking some time for myself 🫶🏻 but i’ll come back when i’m all settled in - so don’t worry, i haven’t forgotten about you guys

[cookielixie]

sooo the clingy texts??? hello did someone say top tier work??? THEY ARE AMAZING AND MY BROKEN HEART IS LOVING IT!

just a question, DEFINITELY not pushing but are you planning or will you ever consider doing a part 2 for chan, bin, hyunjin, lix and seungmin?

ps. i’m all for it and begging but also if not then that’s definitely okay <3

pps. minho’s was the definition of angst AND soft, loved it too much

thank you so much for the feedback 🥹🫶🏻 i’m so glad you liked it!!!

for pt. 2 i will definitely consider it once i’m done with the other requests, which might take a while bc i have over 20 asks in my inbox 🤪

[cookielixie]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐞 || 𝐥.𝐟. 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

A group of meddling friends, a sprig of mistletoe, and a month full of holiday mischief—what could go wrong? For Y/n and Felix, their obliviousness to their own feelings is only rivaled by their friends’ determination to push them together. As December unfolds, so do a series of awkward, sweet, and unexpected moments that might just make this Christmas unforgettable. 

pairing: lee felix x reader

wordcount: 8k

genre/warnings: college!au, best friends to lovers, friends meddling, mistletoe mishaps, awkward encounters, two very oblivious idiots, suggestive content (like a tiny bit), tooth rotting fluff, mentions of alcohol and partying and a smidge of angst. I guess minsung if u squint

A/N: This has been a wip for like... three years now lmao. i really hope you guys like it, feedback and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated <3 also english is not my first language... so yeah sorry if there are any mistakes

It all started with something simple—shared morning lattes and soft exchanges of “good morning” during your early lectures. Those small, fleeting moments quietly grew into endless hours spent together, until you and Felix became nearly inseparable. The group noticed quickly. The way your laughter came easier when he was around, the way his eyes lingered on you when he thought no one was looking—it was hard to miss. And though you both insisted it was just friendship, the boys could see the truth: you were smitten, both of you, even if you were too stubborn or oblivious to admit it.  

As the year went on, the group quietly rooted for something more to happen. There was an undeniable chemistry between you, a natural ease that left everyone wondering when—not if—you’d finally realize your feelings for each other. But no matter how much teasing or hinting was thrown your way, you both deflected it with flustered laughs and hasty denials. Every attempt to nudge you closer ended the same, with perfect excuses and an almost comical level of obliviousness.  

Eventually, the boys eased off, figuring you’d figure it out on your own. But when December rolled around, your dynamic began to shift. Maybe it was the Christmas spirit, or maybe it was just the closeness that winter seemed to bring, but the two of you became even more inseparable—more clingy, more obviously something.  

It was late November when the group gathered at Chan’s place, watching the two of you from afar and exchanging knowing looks. They’d waited long enough. If gentle teasing and subtle hints weren’t going to work, maybe it was time to take matters into their own hands. Armed with a sprig of mistletoe, a little holiday mischief, and a determination to finally get you two to confess, they began crafting their foolproof plan. This Christmas, one way or another, you and Felix would stop denying what everyone else already knew.  

December 1st:

To kick off the Christmas season, everyone had gathered at Changbin’s for the monthly movie night. Everyone except you and Felix, of course, who were running late after your evening lecture together. The rest of the group had already settled in: Jisung and Minho were cracking open beers and chatting by the couch, Chan and Seungmin were busy piling blankets and pillows onto every available surface, while Hyunjin and Jeongin hovered over the snacks, stealing bites when they thought no one was looking.  

Changbin, meanwhile, was in the kitchen, leaning over the counter with a frantic expression and sweat beading on his forehead. His white t-shirt clung to him, dark spots blooming around the neckline. He’d spent the last hour scrambling to prepare what could only be described as a chaotic masterpiece.  

He held the item up in his hands, tilting it left and right under the kitchen light to inspect its durability. It was a long, slender branch, stripped of its excess twigs and carefully wrapped in duct tape. At the tip dangled a sprig of mistletoe, the final touch to what he jokingly called his “cupid’s staff.” After months of teasing, jokes, and failed schemes to push you and Felix closer, drastic measures were now on the table.  

“Hey, you almost done in here?” Chan’s head popped around the doorframe, startling Changbin. “They’re on their way.”  

Changbin glanced at his creation one last time before sighing. “I have no idea if this’ll work,” he muttered, holding it like a fragile relic.  

Chan smirked, his eyes turning into crescents. “It’s worth a shot. If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.” He gave Changbin an encouraging pat on the shoulder before disappearing back into the living room. Changbin rolled his eyes but couldn’t help grinning as he cleaned up the remnants of his “art project.”  

When you and Felix finally arrived, your shared giggles preceded you, drawing attention as you stepped through the door. The others didn’t waste a second guiding you both to the loveseat—a small, almost comically cramped piece of furniture. You were forced to sit shoulder-to-shoulder, your legs draped casually across Felix’s lap. The closeness didn’t seem to bother either of you, and soon a comfortable silence fell over the room as the opening credits of the movie began to roll.  

Changbin bided his time, waiting until everyone was engrossed in the movie before slipping away to retrieve his cupid’s branch. “Bathroom break,” he muttered, his heart pounding as he snuck the mistletoe stick out of its hiding spot.  

Returning to the room, he carefully hid the branch behind his back as he took his seat. Minho noticed immediately, raising a brow and stifling a laugh, which, of course, drew your attention.  

“What’s so funny, Min?” you asked, glancing over.  

Changbin shot Minho a deadly glare, silently mouthing, Don’t you dare. Minho, however, didn’t even glance back at him. Instead, he deadpanned, “Changbin’s face. It’s just… always funny.”  

The group erupted into laughter, with Seungmin letting out a snort loud enough to shake the pillows. “Minho, I swear, one of these days, I’m going to drop a dumbbell on you at the gym,” Changbin snapped, though the threat lacked any real malice.  

Minho gasped dramatically, turning away with an exaggerated pout. “Whatever, I’m cuddling Jisung now. At least he appreciates me.”  

Jisung, already sitting beside him, slung an arm over Minho’s shoulders. “I got you, Min,” he said with mock sincerity.  

The laughter settled, and everyone turned back to the screen. Everyone except Changbin, who gripped his mistletoe stick like it was Excalibur, waiting for the perfect moment. He threw a quick glance in your direction and couldn’t help but smirk. Your head was now leaning against Felix’s shoulder, your face nestled into the crook of his neck, while his hand rested lightly on your thigh. Felix’s ears were burning red, a clear giveaway of how flustered he was despite his calm expression. You’re making this way too easy for me, Changbin thought, adjusting his grip on the branch.  

Unbeknownst to Changbin, your thoughts were far away from the movie. When did he become so beautiful? you wondered for the hundredth time since you’d met Felix. Tonight, though, the thought felt heavier as you stared at the way the TV’s soft light highlighted his freckles, making his eyes shine like little suns. You’d accepted your feelings for him a long time ago, even if you were convinced they weren’t mutual. You’d come to terms with it—being his friend was enough, wasn’t it? But moments like this, so close to him, made it harder to ignore the small ache in your chest.  

Meanwhile, Felix was doing everything in his power not to look down at you. His heart raced every time your breath fanned against his neck, and the weight of your legs draped over his lap was making it impossible to think straight. He clenched his jaw, his thoughts a chaotic mess. Stop being ridiculous. She doesn’t like you like that. But even as he told himself that, a part of him wished—hoped—that maybe he was wrong.  

That’s when Changbin made his move. Slowly, he leaned forward, positioning the mistletoe just above you and Felix. At first, Felix didn’t notice—his focus was entirely on not pulling you closer. But when a faint movement caught the corner of his eye, his head shot up. His eyes landed on the mistletoe, and his entire body stiffened.  

“What the hell, Changbin?” Felix’s voice came out sharper than intended, snapping everyone’s attention to him. His jaw tightened, and his eyes darted from the mistletoe to Changbin’s sheepish grin.  

“It’s just a bit of fun,” Changbin replied, trying to keep it light. “Tradition, you know?”  

“Yeah, hilarious,” Felix said coldly, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He avoided looking at you entirely, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor.  

Your stomach sank at his reaction. Does the thought of kissing me disgust him that much? you wondered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. Clearing your throat, you shifted slightly away from him, your heart sinking as your insecurities bubbled to the surface.  

Sensing the tension, Minho quickly stepped in. “Alright, alright, let’s get back to the movie, yeah? Changbin, retire your cupid stick.”  

The awkwardness lingered for the rest of the night, though no one dared to mention the mistletoe again. By the time the movie ended, you and Felix left without so much as a word to each other, the comfortable closeness from earlier now replaced with a noticeable distance.  

As you walked home in opposite directions, the silence between you hung heavy in the air, leaving you both with thoughts you couldn’t bring yourselves to say aloud.  

December 6th:

Minho’s invitation to dinner—just you, Felix, and Jisung—felt like the perfect excuse to shake off the awkwardness lingering from the group’s last gathering. Felix had eagerly agreed, and you didn’t hesitate either. Spending time with him in a smaller, more relaxed setting was always easy. Plus, Minho’s cooking was a draw on its own.  

As you stepped into Minho’s apartment, the warmth and delicious aroma of home-cooked food enveloped you immediately. “Welcome to Minho’s Michelin-star kitchen,” he announced proudly, ushering you inside.  

Jisung, sprawled lazily on the couch, smirked. “Minho’s been on a mission to impress all day. He even cleaned the stove. You better be prepared to cry tears of joy.”  

“Please,” Minho shot back. “You’ll be too busy shoving food into your mouth to cry.”  

Laughing, you made your way to the small dining table set beautifully for four. You slid into your seat beside Felix while Minho and Jisung sat across from you. The atmosphere was cozy, made warmer by the soft yellow light spilling from the lamp above the table.  

The conversation flowed easily as you started eating, a mix of light teasing and genuine updates. Minho, always perceptive, grinned as he turned his attention to you. “So, Y/n, heard you totally destroyed that exam you were stressing over? What’s your secret? Is it some kind of illegal genius potion? Do I need to call someone?”  

You laughed, shaking your head. “No genius potion, just sheer panic, too much coffee, and maybe a sprinkle of luck.” You reached for the salt shaker, but your movement froze as your gaze drifted upward. Dangling from the lamp above the table, hanging innocently over you and Felix, was a sprig of mistletoe.  

Your cheeks instantly heated. Minho and Jisung exchanged amused glances, poorly concealing their smirks as they watched you both. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Felix’s grip tighten slightly on his fork, his gaze firmly planted on his plate. He must have noticed it earlier, but he hadn’t said a word. Of course he hadn’t.  

You cleared your throat, breaking the moment, and continued your original task of grabbing the salt, doing your best to ignore the festive little sprig taunting you from above. Felix didn’t look up once, seemingly invested in rearranging the food on his plate.  

For the rest of the meal, your interactions with Felix felt careful and muted, though you couldn’t help sneaking a few glances his way. Whenever Minho wasn’t looking, you narrowed your eyes at him, your silent death glare saying all the things you couldn’t say out loud. But if he noticed your glare—and he absolutely did—he didn’t seem fazed, calmly serving himself another helping of food and chatting with Jisung about the latest drama in their group of friends.  

By the time dinner ended, the mistletoe still hung over you like an unanswered question, but neither of you dared to acknowledge it. You and Felix thanked Minho for the food and began your walk home in the crisp December night air.  

The silence at first was comfortable, your shoes crunching softly against the pavement. It didn’t take long before Felix cracked a joke about Jisung’s overly dramatic reaction to Minho’s slightly burnt bread rolls, and soon your laughter echoed easily down the quiet street.  

Amidst your conversation, Felix slipped his hand into yours. It wasn’t unusual for you two to hold hands—it was something you’d done before—but tonight it felt different. Maybe it was the warmth of the moment, or maybe it was the quiet intimacy of walking side by side under the twinkling streetlights. Whatever it was, you couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt, as though his hand belonged there.  

Felix glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, his soft smile catching the faint glow of the streetlights. “You know,” he began, his voice casual but slightly hesitant, “this kind of feels like… a nice tradition.”  

You tilted your head, squeezing his hand lightly. “What does?”  

“This,” he said, his gaze flicking briefly to your joined hands before he quickly added with a nervous laugh, “You know… just as friends. It’s nice, right? No weird mistletoe stuff this time.”  

Your laugh was light, but something tightened in your chest at his words. “Yeah,” you said softly, glancing ahead. “No surprises hanging over our heads.”  

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either. Felix’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if he was afraid you’d pull away, but you didn’t. You kept walking side by side, your steps naturally syncing with each other like they always did.  

His words lingered in your mind, though, the way he so quickly clarified the moment as just friendly. Did he think you might have assumed something else? Had you been assuming something else? The thought stirred uneasily in your chest, but you shook it off, blaming it on the holiday awkwardness that had been following you both since the start of December.  

Beside you, Felix wasn’t any calmer. His heart raced, and he berated himself silently. ‘Why did I say that? Now it’s weird. What if she thinks I’m overthinking? What if she wasn’t thinking about it, but now she is?’ His thoughts swirled in an endless loop of self-doubt, but even amidst the chaos in his mind, he felt the warmth of your hand in his and refused to let go.  

The walk continued, the quiet punctuated by shared smiles and lighthearted comments, both of you silently agreeing not to think too much about the moment. For now, it was enough.  

Unbeknownst to you, Minho and Jisung stood by their apartment window, watching as your figures grew smaller in the distance. “They’re hopeless,” Jisung said with a laugh, shaking his head.  

“Yeah,” Minho agreed, smiling fondly. “But this time, I think they’re starting to get it.”  

December 12th:

Visits to the dance studio where Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix practiced had become a regular part of your routine. You enjoyed seeing the trio perfect their routines and loved bringing them food and drinks as a small gesture of support. Tonight, you decided to surprise them, knowing how late their rehearsals often ran. The thumping bass and sharp rhythm of the music greeted you as you entered the studio, the trio moving in perfect sync with the beat. The energy in the room was magnetic, and you couldn’t help but admire the sheer dedication in each step. For a moment, you stood in the doorway, watching them in awe, before they noticed you.  

Minho spotted you first, his face breaking into a wide grin. “Perfect timing, Y/n! We’re starving,” he announced, cutting the music off as the others collapsed onto the floor in mock exhaustion. Hyunjin dramatically wiped his brow, flopping onto his back. “You’re basically a lifesaver at this point,” he joked, while Felix walked over to you with a shy smile, murmuring a soft “Thanks for coming.”  

You sat down with them on the studio floor, unpacking the food and drinks. The conversation flowed easily, filled with playful teasing and updates about your days. Felix, ever the enthusiastic eater, dove into his food with gusto, but it didn’t take long for disaster to strike. “You’ve got sauce on your face, Felix,” you said, stifling a laugh as you reached for a napkin. Without hesitation, you leaned in to wipe it off.  

But just as your hand neared his face, Hyunjin leaned over you with an outstretched arm, dangling a sprig of mistletoe above your head. “Oops, look at that,” he said with a mischievous grin. Your hand froze midair, your eyes locking on the mistletoe first, then darting to Felix. His eyes were wide, his cheeks already dusted with pink. The moment stretched out awkwardly, your hand only inches from his face, until the reality of the situation hit you like a jolt. You recoiled sharply, your heart racing. “I—I should go,” you stammered, grabbing your bag and standing up so quickly it almost knocked over a drink. “Lots to do tonight, sorry!” Before anyone could say a word, you rushed out of the studio, the door swinging shut behind you.  

The silence left behind was deafening. Felix sat frozen, his hand hovering where yours had been moments before, staring at the door you’d disappeared through. His brow furrowed as a mix of frustration and regret crossed his face. “Hyunjin,” he said slowly, his tone sharp, “what the hell was that? The mistletoe again?”  

Hyunjin blinked, startled by Felix’s tone. “I just thought it’d be funny,” he said defensively, holding the mistletoe up like a white flag. But when Felix’s glare didn’t falter, Hyunjin sighed and dropped the sprig onto the floor. “Look, if you hadn’t reacted so… harshly the first time, maybe Y/n wouldn’t be so jumpy now. I mean, do you even know how much she likes you?”  

Felix’s jaw tightened. “What?” he asked, his voice lower now, but Hyunjin just shook his head, standing up to grab a drink. “Figure it out, man. We’re just trying to help, but it’s like you’re both running away every time something happens.”  

Felix didn’t respond. He stared at the mistletoe on the floor, Hyunjin’s words echoing in his head. If you hadn’t reacted so harshly the first time… maybe Y/n wouldn’t be so jumpy now. Was that true? Had he set this whole thing in motion? He thought back to the first mistletoe incident at Changbin’s—a moment he’d shut down immediately because the idea of forcing you into something like that felt wrong. He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or pressured, not when he thought you might find it absolutely weird and deem him a creep or something. But now… was it his reaction that had made things worse? Was he the one creating this distance?  

His chest tightened. He’d thought he was protecting you—protecting your friendship—but maybe he’d only made things more awkward. And now you were running out of rooms because of him. The studio fell quiet again, save for the faint sound of Minho munching on chips. After a long silence, Minho glanced up, leaning forward slightly. “Felix, don’t overthink it,” he said gently, his voice less teasing than usual. “You two always bounce back. Just… maybe next time, don’t run away from the moment, yeah?”  

Felix nodded slowly, Minho’s words sinking in, but he still couldn’t shake the weight in his chest. As rehearsal resumed, he danced on autopilot, his movements mechanical as his mind replayed the night’s events. By the time the music stopped again, one thought was firmly planted in his mind: I can’t let this keep happening. I’ve got to figure out how to make things right with her.  

December 16th:

It had been a few days since the series of awkward holiday encounters—movie night, the dinner at Minho’s, and the fiasco at the dance studio. You and Felix had fallen back into your usual rhythm, or at least, you were trying to. The moments of closeness still felt natural, but there was a tension beneath the surface, a hesitance that hadn’t been there before. You chalked it up to everything that had happened, telling yourself that things would smooth out eventually. 

The two of you were standing by your locker that morning, talking like usual, and for once, it felt normal again. Felix leaned casually against the locker next to yours, his freckled cheeks still slightly pink from the cold outside. 

“I’m calling it now—Chan’s going to make us rewrite our part of the group project by the end of the week,” Felix said with a smirk. “He’s going to find some tiny typo and have an existential crisis about it.” 

You laughed, shaking your head as you grabbed a book from your locker. “He’s probably already composing the email. I give him until tomorrow before we get hit with, ‘Just a few more adjustments.’” 

Felix laughed along with you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Moments like this were your favorite—easy, light, like nothing had changed. The awkwardness from the last few days felt far away, almost forgotten. Almost. 

But then Jisung appeared. 

“Wow, if it isn’t my favorite dynamic duo!” he called out, his voice loud enough to draw a few glances from passing students. You turned your head just as he stopped in front of you, his usual mischievous grin plastered across his face. 

“Jisung…” you began cautiously, narrowing your eyes at him. “What are you doing?” 

Instead of answering, he gave you and Felix a mockingly sweet look, then reached up and held something over your heads. Your stomach sank the moment you realized what he was doing. 

Felix noticed immediately too. His laughter faded, and for a split second, he looked up before his eyes flicked to you. But instead of pulling away or frowning like he had the first time, he hesitated, his lips parting slightly as if he was about to say something. His posture softened, his hand twitching at his side as though he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if he should. “Y/n, it’s not a big deal,” he said, his voice quiet and careful. 

But you didn’t hear the gentleness in his words. The memory of his sharp reaction the first time flashed in your mind like a warning sign. You panicked, your body stiffening as a heat rose to your face. “Jisung!” you exclaimed, your voice harsher than you intended as you reached out to push him aside. 

He stumbled back with a yelp, clutching his chest dramatically. “Whoa, okay! No need to shove!” he said, though his tone was still playful. 

“I’m not doing this right now,” you muttered, hastily grabbing your bag. Your eyes didn’t meet Felix’s, even as you felt his gaze lingering on you. “I’ve got to get to class.” 

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Felix and Jisung standing there in the middle of the hallway. 

The silence between them was heavy for a moment, until Jisung let out a low whistle. “Well, that didn’t go as planned,” he muttered, looking at Felix. 

Felix was still staring down the hall, his expression hard to read. His arms hung at his sides, his shoulders tense. Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but laced with frustration. “Why do you keep doing that, Jisung?” 

Jisung blinked. “Doing what?” 

Felix turned to him, his jaw tight. “This. Pushing her like that. It’s not helping.” 

Jisung tilted his head, holding his hands up defensively. “Whoa, relax, man. I thought you two were back to normal. You were laughing and talking like nothing was wrong—I figured maybe this time, it wouldn’t be a big deal.” 

Felix ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh. “Well, it is a big deal. She’s already uncomfortable with everything that’s happened, and now she’s just…” He trailed off, his voice growing softer. “She probably thinks I don’t want this. That I don’t want her.” 

Jisung frowned, his usual playful expression replaced by something more serious. “You don’t think she knows how you feel?” 

Felix let out a short, humorless laugh. “How could she? The first time this happened, I acted like the whole idea was some big joke. She probably thinks the idea of… of anything between us is disgusting to me.” He leaned back against the lockers, his gaze falling to the floor. “But it’s not. It’s the opposite. I just didn’t want her to feel pressured into anything. I thought I was doing the right thing.” 

Jisung studied him for a moment, then let out a sigh. “Look, man, maybe it’s time to stop trying to protect her from something she doesn’t need protecting from. I mean, she’s clearly as caught up in her head as you are. Maybe instead of freaking out, you could, I don’t know, actually say something next time?” 

Felix looked up at him, frowning. “Say what?” 

Jisung smirked faintly, patting Felix on the shoulder. “Figure it out. Just… do something before she sprints away again. You’re both miserable, and it’s kind of painful to watch.” 

And with that, Jisung walked off, leaving Felix standing alone in the hallway. Felix let out another sigh, leaning his head back against the lockers. 

Maybe Jisung’s right, he thought, the idea twisting in his chest. She probably thinks I don’t want her. But what if she… what if she doesn’t want me either? 

The thought made his stomach churn, but as he stood there, staring down the hallway where you’d disappeared, he resolved to himself that next time—if there was a next time—he wouldn’t let things end like this. 

December 20th:

The soft hum of Christmas music filled the cozy café where you worked, the glow of fairy lights strung along the walls casting a warm, festive ambiance. The evening shift had been slow, with only the occasional customer trickling in, leaving you and Jeongin plenty of time to chat and clean. When the bells above the door jingled, you glanced up, immediately spotting Felix stepping in from the cold. A puff of white breath escaped his lips as he unwrapped the scarf from his neck, his cheeks and nose flushed pink from the chilly December air. He looked tired but happy, and his face lit up when he saw you behind the counter. 

“Felix!” you called out, leaning slightly over the counter to greet him. “Done with your last exam?” 

He grinned as he approached, his hair falling into his eyes. “Finally. I think my brain is fried, but at least I’m free now.” He leaned an elbow on the counter, his usual casual charm impossible to miss. “I needed a victory coffee, and I figured my favorite barista would hook me up.” 

You snorted, grabbing a cup and heading toward the espresso machine. “Victory coffee, huh? Is that what we’re calling it? Be honest—did you crush it or barely survive?” 

“Crushed it,” he replied quickly, then laughed. “Okay, fine. Maybe there was a little panic halfway through the essay. But come on, you try remembering six economic theories when you’re running on two hours of sleep.” 

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you started making his coffee. “Sounds like someone should’ve had one more latte before heading in. Caffeine solves everything, you know.” 

“Ah, yes, the secret to success: caffeine addiction,” he teased, resting both elbows on the counter now as he watched you work. Jeongin, wiping down tables nearby, snorted loud enough to make Felix glance his way. 

“She doesn’t give just anyone free coffee, you know,” Jeongin quipped. “You must be special.” 

Felix smirked, his gaze flickering to yours. “Guess I’m her favorite.” 

You felt your cheeks flush but kept your focus on the coffee machine, pretending his words hadn’t made your heart skip. “Careful, sunshine boy, or I’ll start charging you double.” 

Jeongin grinned knowingly but didn’t push it, disappearing into the back as you handed Felix his coffee. He took a sip, sighing dramatically as though it were the best thing he’d ever tasted. “Perfect, as always.” 

You leaned forward on the counter, resting your chin in your hand as you laughed. “I’ll take that as a five-star Yelp review.” 

“You’d get six stars if you threw in a cookie,” he joked, and just like that, the conversation flowed effortlessly. It didn’t matter how awkward things had been between you recently—when it was just the two of you, everything else seemed to melt away. Felix’s freckled cheeks were still pink from the cold, and the warmth in his eyes as he smiled at you made your stomach flip, though you tried to ignore it. 

The café was quiet, the snow falling softly outside making the whole world feel muffled and still. Felix leaned closer over the counter, his chin propped on his hand now, mirroring your posture as you teased him about his exam. He was laughing again, the sound low and sweet, and you were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t notice how close you’d both leaned toward each other. The space between you was practically nonexistent, and your heart was thudding in your chest, though you weren’t sure why. 

But Felix did notice. Just as his gaze flickered to your lips, a movement caught the corner of his eye. He stilled, his laughter fading as his focus shifted. There, by the pastry case, was Jeongin. He was leaning casually against the counter, a smug grin plastered across his face as he held something above your heads. 

Felix’s stomach twisted when he realized what it was: a sprig of mistletoe, dangling lazily from Jeongin’s hand. His initial instinct was to groan or roll his eyes, to glare at Jeongin for meddling again. But then his gaze returned to you. You were still smiling, your eyes shining as you waited for him to say something, completely unaware of Jeongin’s antics. 

Felix hesitated. He knew how you felt about the mistletoe by now—how every prank this month had left you retreating, flustered and unsure. But something about the way you were looking at him right now, so close and unguarded, made him want to push past the awkwardness and take the chance. Maybe this was his moment to show you how he really felt. 

“Y/n,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine. “Can I tell you something?” 

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued, though you tried to keep your tone light. “You’re not about to say something cheesy, are you?” 

He chuckled, the sound low and genuine, and his gaze softened as he leaned in slightly. “Maybe. But you make it kinda hard not to.” 

You opened your mouth, ready to fire back some teasing remark, but before you could, Felix closed the space between you, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek. The warmth of his lips spread across your skin, catching you so off guard that you froze. For a moment, everything seemed to stand still, the café quiet except for the soft hum of holiday music. But just as your heart started to flutter, your eyes flicked upward—and you saw it. 

There, held high above your heads, was Jeongin’s hand. He was leaning against the counter, the branch in his grip swaying slightly, his grin practically splitting his face in two. 

The giddy warmth from Felix’s kiss vanished, replaced by a sinking feeling in your chest. Of course. Of course Jeongin had been watching, meddling, dangling his stupid branch like some kind of cupid. You stepped back from Felix slightly, your hand brushing your cheek where his lips had been moments before, and let out a nervous laugh. 

“Wow, smooth, Felix,” you said lightly, though your voice felt hollow even to your own ears. You avoided his gaze, your chest tightening with doubt. He’d kissed you, sure, but was it because he wanted to—or because Jeongin had been standing there, making it impossible not to? The thought twisted painfully in your stomach, and you turned your attention to Jeongin, your expression hardening. “And you! Don’t you have anything better to do than play cupid?” 

Jeongin grinned shamelessly, lowering the branch. “Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’ as he straightened up. “You’re welcome, by the way.” 

You rolled your eyes and busied yourself behind the counter, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks. You could feel Felix’s gaze on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. The moment had been so sweet, so perfect, but now it just felt like a game—like all the other forced encounters this month. The thought of it being anything other than real made your chest ache. 

Felix stood there, his own chest tightening as he watched you. He hadn’t missed the way your expression changed the second you noticed Jeongin, how you’d pulled away like the kiss had meant nothing. His grip on his coffee cup tightened, frustration and regret bubbling inside him. He’d kissed you because he wanted to, but now it felt like everything had been ruined by that stupid sprig of greenery. 

Later, as Jeongin wiped down a table nearby, Felix caught his eye. “Really?” Felix said, his voice low as he gestured toward the branch now lying on the counter. “You couldn’t help yourself?” 

Jeongin smirked, completely unbothered. “You two were this close. I just gave you a little push.” 

Felix sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She probably thinks I only kissed her because of you.” 

“Well,” Jeongin said, raising an eyebrow, “did you?” 

Felix glared at him, his voice soft but firm. “No. I kissed her because I wanted to.” 

Jeongin tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost understanding. “Then maybe next time, let her know that. Don’t let me or some stupid branch do it for you.” 

Felix stayed quiet, his eyes flicking toward the counter where you stood, your back still turned to him. Jeongin’s words echoed in his head as he finished his coffee, determination slowly building in his chest. If there was going to be a next time, he wouldn’t leave any room for doubt. Not this time.

December 22nd:

The Christmas party was in full swing, and Chan’s apartment buzzed with the energy of a group finally free from the weight of exams. The music pulsed softly in the background—a mix of festive classics and whatever Jisung had decided to throw into the playlist for chaos. Colored lights blinked unevenly from every corner, their soft glow bathing the room in warmth, while an unsteady Christmas tree leaned dramatically in the corner, its precarious decorations the result of Minho’s refusal to let anyone touch “his masterpiece.” The air was thick with the scent of mulled wine, spiked hot chocolate, and cinnamon candles that Minho had insisted were “mandatory for the aesthetic.” Empty bottles and half-eaten snacks littered the table, and Santa hats had somehow found their way onto everyone’s heads, whether willingly or not. 

In the kitchen, you leaned against the counter, cradling a drink that had gone lukewarm in your hand. Minho stood opposite you, arms crossed and a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he watched you with laser focus. The noise from the living room spilled faintly into the space—Jeongin’s laughter cutting through Chan’s groan of defeat, the clinking of glasses, and Jisung’s exaggerated rendition of “Jingle Bell Rock.” 

Minho raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as he studied you. “Alright, what’s going on?” 

You blinked, startled. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” Minho said, gesturing toward the door with his glass, “that you’ve been glancing at Felix every five minutes like you’re in a cheesy holiday rom-com, and you’ve barely said three words to him all night. Spill.” 

You groaned, setting your drink down on the counter with a little too much force. “It’s nothing,” you muttered, though even you didn’t believe it. “That’s the problem.” 

Minho’s smirk softened, and he leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze not letting you escape. “You know you can talk to me, right? I’m like a free therapist. Minus the therapy license. And the emotional sensitivity.” 

You let out a soft laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “It’s just… complicated,” you said, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. “This whole mistletoe thing—it’s made everything so weird. And now I feel like I don’t even know where I stand with him. What if all those moments didn’t mean anything? What if he only kissed me at the café because Jeongin was standing there waiting for him to do it?” 

Minho let out a long, exasperated sigh, setting his glass down with a dramatic flourish. “Y/n, listen to me. Felix isn’t the kind of guy who does something just because someone else expects him to. If he kissed you, it’s because he wanted to. End of story. Trust me, I’ve known him for years.” 

You frowned, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “But what if I’m wrong? What if I say something, and it ruins everything?” 

Minho gave you a rare, sincere look, his tone softening. “Then at least you’ll know. But, Y/n, come on. The guy looks at you like you hung the stars. You’ve seen it, right? He’s just as caught up in this as you are. But if you don’t talk to him, you’re both gonna keep circling each other forever.” 

You hesitated, the weight of his words settling over you. “You’re really annoying, you know that?” you muttered, picking up your glass again. 

Minho grinned, raising his own glass in a mock toast. “And yet, I’m always right.” 

Across the room, Felix was perched on the edge of the couch, swirling his drink absently as he stared out the window. The faint glow of the city lights reflected in his dark eyes, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He barely noticed the snow falling in lazy flurries, his mind too busy replaying every moment from the past month—the awkwardness, the misunderstandings, and most of all, the way you’d pulled away at the café after Jeongin’s mistletoe stunt. He kept asking himself the same question: Had he ruined it? Had his hesitation made you think he didn’t care? 

Hyunjin plopped down beside him, dragging him back to the present with an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, sunshine boy, what’s your deal?” 

Felix blinked, startled. “What?” 

“You’ve been sulking in the corner all night,” Hyunjin said, poking him in the ribs with a candy cane. “Which, like, fine, maybe it’s your broody winter aesthetic or whatever, but it’s starting to get depressing. What’s going on?” 

Felix let out a soft groan, running a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing.” 

“Oh, it’s definitely not nothing,” Seungmin interjected from across the room, where he was perched on the armrest of the couch. “Even Changbin noticed, and he’s been halfway through that punch bowl for the last hour.” 

Changbin, who was indeed holding another cup of punch, nodded sagely. “Yeah, man. You’ve been staring at Y/n like she’s the last piece of cake at the bakery.” 

Felix groaned again, burying his face in his hands. “I’m not staring.” 

Hyunjin snorted. “Right. Sure. You’re just ‘coincidentally’ looking in her direction every thirty seconds.” 

Felix dropped his hands, shooting them a glare. “I don’t know, okay? The whole mistletoe thing has been a mess, and I feel like every time I try to fix it, I just make things worse. She probably thinks I only kissed her at the café because Jeongin was watching.” 

Hyunjin tilted his head, studying Felix’s slumped posture. “Or—and hear me out—maybe she’s just as scared as you are. Look, Felix, if you want her to know how you feel, you’re gonna have to stop tiptoeing around it. None of this ‘reading between the lines’ crap. Just tell her.” 

Felix’s gaze flicked toward the kitchen, where he could just make out the edge of your figure as you leaned against the counter, talking to Minho. His chest tightened. “Yeah,” he said softly. “You’re right.” 

Hyunjin grinned, clapping him on the back. “Of course I am.” 

The Christmas party had settled into a quieter rhythm, the earlier chaos giving way to a warm buzz of chatter and laughter. Chan’s apartment still brimmed with festive energy—colored lights blinked unevenly from the walls, and the half-decorated tree leaned at an almost comical angle, as though too tired to stand upright after hosting a steady stream of Santa hats and selfies. The scent of mulled wine, cinnamon candles, and something suspiciously burnt wafted through the air, mingling with the faint sounds of Christmas music pulsing from Jisung’s chaotic playlist. 

You needed air. The heat of the apartment and the weight of your swirling thoughts had become too much, so you’d slipped out onto the balcony unnoticed. The cold December breeze bit at your skin, sharp and refreshing, as you leaned against the railing and stared out at the snow-dusted city below. The streetlights illuminated the falling snow like glitter, and for a moment, you let the quiet settle over you, a sharp contrast to the hum of energy inside. 

Your mind, however, refused to settle. It was caught in a loop, replaying every mistletoe encounter from the past month—the awkward laughter, the stolen glances, the kiss at the café. No matter how hard you tried to push it away, one thought kept returning: Did any of it really mean something? Or had Felix simply gone along with it because he felt like he had to? 

The sliding door opened behind you, and you glanced over your shoulder, startled. Felix stepped out, his scarf loosely draped around his neck, and the faint glow from the apartment lit up his freckles like constellations. His cheeks were pink, whether from the cold or the warmth of the party, you weren’t sure. He hesitated for a moment, looking at you like he wasn’t entirely sure he was welcome, before closing the door behind him and stepping closer. 

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice carrying over the breeze. 

“Hey,” you replied, your breath visible in the cold as you turned back to the view. 

For a few moments, neither of you said anything, the silence stretching between you like the snowfall. Felix shifted beside you, leaning on the railing, close enough that his elbow almost brushed yours. You could feel his presence without looking at him, and the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air. 

“Can we talk?” he asked finally, his voice hesitant but steady. 

You nodded, your pulse quickening. “Yeah. We probably should.” 

Felix let out a slow breath, his hands gripping the railing as he looked out at the city. “This whole month has been… a lot,” he started, his voice low. “The mistletoe, the teasing, all of it—it made everything feel so much more complicated than it needed to be. And I know I didn’t exactly handle it well.” He paused, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “The night at Changbin’s… when I reacted the way I did—it wasn’t because I didn’t want to kiss you.” 

You turned to look at him, your chest tightening. “Then why?” 

Felix hesitated, his brows furrowing as he stared down at his hands. “Because I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I didn’t want you to think I was only doing it because they were watching. I didn’t want it to feel like some stupid joke.” His voice softened, and he finally looked up to meet your gaze. “I wanted it to be real. And I didn’t want to ruin anything between us by making it weird.” 

Your breath caught, and you felt the words spilling out before you could stop them. “And I didn’t want you to kiss me because of them either,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I wanted you to kiss me because you wanted to. Not because of some stupid branch, or a game, or anything else.” 

Felix’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. “Y/n,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “that’s the only reason I’ve ever wanted to kiss you.” 

The rawness in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, and your heart felt like it might burst. The tension between you was electric, the cold air forgotten as his gaze held yours, unflinching and unguarded. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Felix spotted something on the small table beside you. 

He let out a soft laugh, breaking the moment as he reached for it. In his hand was a familiar sprig of greenery—another mistletoe branch, as though the universe itself had been conspiring against you all month. Felix raised it above your heads, a playful smile tugging at his lips despite the nervous edge in his eyes. 

“Well,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement, “it wouldn’t be Christmas without one of these, right?” 

You stared at the mistletoe for a moment, your emotions a tangled mess of warmth, frustration, and something close to defiance. Then, without a word, you grabbed the branch from his hand, stepped back, and threw it over the railing. The sprig disappeared into the night, swallowed by the snow below. 

“To hell with that,” you said, your voice steady but breathless. 

Before Felix could react, you closed the distance between you, your hands cupping his face as you leaned in and kissed him. His lips were warm despite the cold, soft and tentative for half a second before he responded, his hands gently settling on your waist like he was afraid you might disappear. The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, like the two of you were pouring every unsaid word, every missed moment, into it. The rest of the world faded away—there was no snow, no cold, no noise from the party inside. There was only him. 

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, your breaths mingling in the frosty air. Felix’s eyes fluttered open, and his freckled cheeks were flushed, his lips tugging into a soft, disbelieving smile. 

“Wow,” he said, his voice low and full of awe. “That was definitely all you.” 

You laughed, your hands still resting against his cheeks. “Yeah, it was.” 

The tender moment was shattered by a loud thump against the glass door. Both of you whipped around to see the boys pressed up against the balcony window—Hyunjin, Jisung, Jeongin, Seungmin, Changbin, Chan, and Minho, all grinning like they’d just won the lottery. Minho smirked as he exchanged a smug high-five with Chan, while Jisung mimed wiping a fake tear from his cheek. 

Felix groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as his ears burned red. “They’re the worst.” 

You couldn’t stop laughing, wrapping your arms around him as you leaned your cheek against his hair. “Yeah,” you said, smiling as the snow continued to fall softly around you. “But maybe we owe them for this one.” 

[floweringlino]

This is sooo freaking cute omg🥹 im so excited for the christmas season🤭🥰🫶🏼

[cookielixie]

thank you so much 😭❤️ i’m glad you liked it!!

[cookielixie]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐞 || 𝐥.𝐟. 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

A group of meddling friends, a sprig of mistletoe, and a month full of holiday mischief—what could go wrong? For Y/n and Felix, their obliviousness to their own feelings is only rivaled by their friends’ determination to push them together. As December unfolds, so do a series of awkward, sweet, and unexpected moments that might just make this Christmas unforgettable. 

pairing: lee felix x reader

wordcount: 8k

genre/warnings: college!au, best friends to lovers, friends meddling, mistletoe mishaps, awkward encounters, two very oblivious idiots, suggestive content (like a tiny bit), tooth rotting fluff, mentions of alcohol and partying and a smidge of angst. I guess minsung if u squint

A/N: This has been a wip for like... three years now lmao. i really hope you guys like it, feedback and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated <3 also english is not my first language... so yeah sorry if there are any mistakes

It all started with something simple—shared morning lattes and soft exchanges of “good morning” during your early lectures. Those small, fleeting moments quietly grew into endless hours spent together, until you and Felix became nearly inseparable. The group noticed quickly. The way your laughter came easier when he was around, the way his eyes lingered on you when he thought no one was looking—it was hard to miss. And though you both insisted it was just friendship, the boys could see the truth: you were smitten, both of you, even if you were too stubborn or oblivious to admit it.  

As the year went on, the group quietly rooted for something more to happen. There was an undeniable chemistry between you, a natural ease that left everyone wondering when—not if—you’d finally realize your feelings for each other. But no matter how much teasing or hinting was thrown your way, you both deflected it with flustered laughs and hasty denials. Every attempt to nudge you closer ended the same, with perfect excuses and an almost comical level of obliviousness.  

Eventually, the boys eased off, figuring you’d figure it out on your own. But when December rolled around, your dynamic began to shift. Maybe it was the Christmas spirit, or maybe it was just the closeness that winter seemed to bring, but the two of you became even more inseparable—more clingy, more obviously something.  

It was late November when the group gathered at Chan’s place, watching the two of you from afar and exchanging knowing looks. They’d waited long enough. If gentle teasing and subtle hints weren’t going to work, maybe it was time to take matters into their own hands. Armed with a sprig of mistletoe, a little holiday mischief, and a determination to finally get you two to confess, they began crafting their foolproof plan. This Christmas, one way or another, you and Felix would stop denying what everyone else already knew.  

December 1st:

To kick off the Christmas season, everyone had gathered at Changbin’s for the monthly movie night. Everyone except you and Felix, of course, who were running late after your evening lecture together. The rest of the group had already settled in: Jisung and Minho were cracking open beers and chatting by the couch, Chan and Seungmin were busy piling blankets and pillows onto every available surface, while Hyunjin and Jeongin hovered over the snacks, stealing bites when they thought no one was looking.  

Changbin, meanwhile, was in the kitchen, leaning over the counter with a frantic expression and sweat beading on his forehead. His white t-shirt clung to him, dark spots blooming around the neckline. He’d spent the last hour scrambling to prepare what could only be described as a chaotic masterpiece.  

He held the item up in his hands, tilting it left and right under the kitchen light to inspect its durability. It was a long, slender branch, stripped of its excess twigs and carefully wrapped in duct tape. At the tip dangled a sprig of mistletoe, the final touch to what he jokingly called his “cupid’s staff.” After months of teasing, jokes, and failed schemes to push you and Felix closer, drastic measures were now on the table.  

“Hey, you almost done in here?” Chan’s head popped around the doorframe, startling Changbin. “They’re on their way.”  

Changbin glanced at his creation one last time before sighing. “I have no idea if this’ll work,” he muttered, holding it like a fragile relic.  

Chan smirked, his eyes turning into crescents. “It’s worth a shot. If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.” He gave Changbin an encouraging pat on the shoulder before disappearing back into the living room. Changbin rolled his eyes but couldn’t help grinning as he cleaned up the remnants of his “art project.”  

When you and Felix finally arrived, your shared giggles preceded you, drawing attention as you stepped through the door. The others didn’t waste a second guiding you both to the loveseat—a small, almost comically cramped piece of furniture. You were forced to sit shoulder-to-shoulder, your legs draped casually across Felix’s lap. The closeness didn’t seem to bother either of you, and soon a comfortable silence fell over the room as the opening credits of the movie began to roll.  

Changbin bided his time, waiting until everyone was engrossed in the movie before slipping away to retrieve his cupid’s branch. “Bathroom break,” he muttered, his heart pounding as he snuck the mistletoe stick out of its hiding spot.  

Returning to the room, he carefully hid the branch behind his back as he took his seat. Minho noticed immediately, raising a brow and stifling a laugh, which, of course, drew your attention.  

“What’s so funny, Min?” you asked, glancing over.  

Changbin shot Minho a deadly glare, silently mouthing, Don’t you dare. Minho, however, didn’t even glance back at him. Instead, he deadpanned, “Changbin’s face. It’s just… always funny.”  

The group erupted into laughter, with Seungmin letting out a snort loud enough to shake the pillows. “Minho, I swear, one of these days, I’m going to drop a dumbbell on you at the gym,” Changbin snapped, though the threat lacked any real malice.  

Minho gasped dramatically, turning away with an exaggerated pout. “Whatever, I’m cuddling Jisung now. At least he appreciates me.”  

Jisung, already sitting beside him, slung an arm over Minho’s shoulders. “I got you, Min,” he said with mock sincerity.  

The laughter settled, and everyone turned back to the screen. Everyone except Changbin, who gripped his mistletoe stick like it was Excalibur, waiting for the perfect moment. He threw a quick glance in your direction and couldn’t help but smirk. Your head was now leaning against Felix’s shoulder, your face nestled into the crook of his neck, while his hand rested lightly on your thigh. Felix’s ears were burning red, a clear giveaway of how flustered he was despite his calm expression. You’re making this way too easy for me, Changbin thought, adjusting his grip on the branch.  

Unbeknownst to Changbin, your thoughts were far away from the movie. When did he become so beautiful? you wondered for the hundredth time since you’d met Felix. Tonight, though, the thought felt heavier as you stared at the way the TV’s soft light highlighted his freckles, making his eyes shine like little suns. You’d accepted your feelings for him a long time ago, even if you were convinced they weren’t mutual. You’d come to terms with it—being his friend was enough, wasn’t it? But moments like this, so close to him, made it harder to ignore the small ache in your chest.  

Meanwhile, Felix was doing everything in his power not to look down at you. His heart raced every time your breath fanned against his neck, and the weight of your legs draped over his lap was making it impossible to think straight. He clenched his jaw, his thoughts a chaotic mess. Stop being ridiculous. She doesn’t like you like that. But even as he told himself that, a part of him wished—hoped—that maybe he was wrong.  

That’s when Changbin made his move. Slowly, he leaned forward, positioning the mistletoe just above you and Felix. At first, Felix didn’t notice—his focus was entirely on not pulling you closer. But when a faint movement caught the corner of his eye, his head shot up. His eyes landed on the mistletoe, and his entire body stiffened.  

“What the hell, Changbin?” Felix’s voice came out sharper than intended, snapping everyone’s attention to him. His jaw tightened, and his eyes darted from the mistletoe to Changbin’s sheepish grin.  

“It’s just a bit of fun,” Changbin replied, trying to keep it light. “Tradition, you know?”  

“Yeah, hilarious,” Felix said coldly, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He avoided looking at you entirely, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor.  

Your stomach sank at his reaction. Does the thought of kissing me disgust him that much? you wondered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. Clearing your throat, you shifted slightly away from him, your heart sinking as your insecurities bubbled to the surface.  

Sensing the tension, Minho quickly stepped in. “Alright, alright, let’s get back to the movie, yeah? Changbin, retire your cupid stick.”  

The awkwardness lingered for the rest of the night, though no one dared to mention the mistletoe again. By the time the movie ended, you and Felix left without so much as a word to each other, the comfortable closeness from earlier now replaced with a noticeable distance.  

As you walked home in opposite directions, the silence between you hung heavy in the air, leaving you both with thoughts you couldn’t bring yourselves to say aloud.  

December 6th:

Minho’s invitation to dinner—just you, Felix, and Jisung—felt like the perfect excuse to shake off the awkwardness lingering from the group’s last gathering. Felix had eagerly agreed, and you didn’t hesitate either. Spending time with him in a smaller, more relaxed setting was always easy. Plus, Minho’s cooking was a draw on its own.  

As you stepped into Minho’s apartment, the warmth and delicious aroma of home-cooked food enveloped you immediately. “Welcome to Minho’s Michelin-star kitchen,” he announced proudly, ushering you inside.  

Jisung, sprawled lazily on the couch, smirked. “Minho’s been on a mission to impress all day. He even cleaned the stove. You better be prepared to cry tears of joy.”  

“Please,” Minho shot back. “You’ll be too busy shoving food into your mouth to cry.”  

Laughing, you made your way to the small dining table set beautifully for four. You slid into your seat beside Felix while Minho and Jisung sat across from you. The atmosphere was cozy, made warmer by the soft yellow light spilling from the lamp above the table.  

The conversation flowed easily as you started eating, a mix of light teasing and genuine updates. Minho, always perceptive, grinned as he turned his attention to you. “So, Y/n, heard you totally destroyed that exam you were stressing over? What’s your secret? Is it some kind of illegal genius potion? Do I need to call someone?”  

You laughed, shaking your head. “No genius potion, just sheer panic, too much coffee, and maybe a sprinkle of luck.” You reached for the salt shaker, but your movement froze as your gaze drifted upward. Dangling from the lamp above the table, hanging innocently over you and Felix, was a sprig of mistletoe.  

Your cheeks instantly heated. Minho and Jisung exchanged amused glances, poorly concealing their smirks as they watched you both. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Felix’s grip tighten slightly on his fork, his gaze firmly planted on his plate. He must have noticed it earlier, but he hadn’t said a word. Of course he hadn’t.  

You cleared your throat, breaking the moment, and continued your original task of grabbing the salt, doing your best to ignore the festive little sprig taunting you from above. Felix didn’t look up once, seemingly invested in rearranging the food on his plate.  

For the rest of the meal, your interactions with Felix felt careful and muted, though you couldn’t help sneaking a few glances his way. Whenever Minho wasn’t looking, you narrowed your eyes at him, your silent death glare saying all the things you couldn’t say out loud. But if he noticed your glare—and he absolutely did—he didn’t seem fazed, calmly serving himself another helping of food and chatting with Jisung about the latest drama in their group of friends.  

By the time dinner ended, the mistletoe still hung over you like an unanswered question, but neither of you dared to acknowledge it. You and Felix thanked Minho for the food and began your walk home in the crisp December night air.  

The silence at first was comfortable, your shoes crunching softly against the pavement. It didn’t take long before Felix cracked a joke about Jisung’s overly dramatic reaction to Minho’s slightly burnt bread rolls, and soon your laughter echoed easily down the quiet street.  

Amidst your conversation, Felix slipped his hand into yours. It wasn’t unusual for you two to hold hands—it was something you’d done before—but tonight it felt different. Maybe it was the warmth of the moment, or maybe it was the quiet intimacy of walking side by side under the twinkling streetlights. Whatever it was, you couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt, as though his hand belonged there.  

Felix glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, his soft smile catching the faint glow of the streetlights. “You know,” he began, his voice casual but slightly hesitant, “this kind of feels like… a nice tradition.”  

You tilted your head, squeezing his hand lightly. “What does?”  

“This,” he said, his gaze flicking briefly to your joined hands before he quickly added with a nervous laugh, “You know… just as friends. It’s nice, right? No weird mistletoe stuff this time.”  

Your laugh was light, but something tightened in your chest at his words. “Yeah,” you said softly, glancing ahead. “No surprises hanging over our heads.”  

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either. Felix’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if he was afraid you’d pull away, but you didn’t. You kept walking side by side, your steps naturally syncing with each other like they always did.  

His words lingered in your mind, though, the way he so quickly clarified the moment as just friendly. Did he think you might have assumed something else? Had you been assuming something else? The thought stirred uneasily in your chest, but you shook it off, blaming it on the holiday awkwardness that had been following you both since the start of December.  

Beside you, Felix wasn’t any calmer. His heart raced, and he berated himself silently. ‘Why did I say that? Now it’s weird. What if she thinks I’m overthinking? What if she wasn’t thinking about it, but now she is?’ His thoughts swirled in an endless loop of self-doubt, but even amidst the chaos in his mind, he felt the warmth of your hand in his and refused to let go.  

The walk continued, the quiet punctuated by shared smiles and lighthearted comments, both of you silently agreeing not to think too much about the moment. For now, it was enough.  

Unbeknownst to you, Minho and Jisung stood by their apartment window, watching as your figures grew smaller in the distance. “They’re hopeless,” Jisung said with a laugh, shaking his head.  

“Yeah,” Minho agreed, smiling fondly. “But this time, I think they’re starting to get it.”  

December 12th:

Visits to the dance studio where Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix practiced had become a regular part of your routine. You enjoyed seeing the trio perfect their routines and loved bringing them food and drinks as a small gesture of support. Tonight, you decided to surprise them, knowing how late their rehearsals often ran. The thumping bass and sharp rhythm of the music greeted you as you entered the studio, the trio moving in perfect sync with the beat. The energy in the room was magnetic, and you couldn’t help but admire the sheer dedication in each step. For a moment, you stood in the doorway, watching them in awe, before they noticed you.  

Minho spotted you first, his face breaking into a wide grin. “Perfect timing, Y/n! We’re starving,” he announced, cutting the music off as the others collapsed onto the floor in mock exhaustion. Hyunjin dramatically wiped his brow, flopping onto his back. “You’re basically a lifesaver at this point,” he joked, while Felix walked over to you with a shy smile, murmuring a soft “Thanks for coming.”  

You sat down with them on the studio floor, unpacking the food and drinks. The conversation flowed easily, filled with playful teasing and updates about your days. Felix, ever the enthusiastic eater, dove into his food with gusto, but it didn’t take long for disaster to strike. “You’ve got sauce on your face, Felix,” you said, stifling a laugh as you reached for a napkin. Without hesitation, you leaned in to wipe it off.  

But just as your hand neared his face, Hyunjin leaned over you with an outstretched arm, dangling a sprig of mistletoe above your head. “Oops, look at that,” he said with a mischievous grin. Your hand froze midair, your eyes locking on the mistletoe first, then darting to Felix. His eyes were wide, his cheeks already dusted with pink. The moment stretched out awkwardly, your hand only inches from his face, until the reality of the situation hit you like a jolt. You recoiled sharply, your heart racing. “I—I should go,” you stammered, grabbing your bag and standing up so quickly it almost knocked over a drink. “Lots to do tonight, sorry!” Before anyone could say a word, you rushed out of the studio, the door swinging shut behind you.  

The silence left behind was deafening. Felix sat frozen, his hand hovering where yours had been moments before, staring at the door you’d disappeared through. His brow furrowed as a mix of frustration and regret crossed his face. “Hyunjin,” he said slowly, his tone sharp, “what the hell was that? The mistletoe again?”  

Hyunjin blinked, startled by Felix’s tone. “I just thought it’d be funny,” he said defensively, holding the mistletoe up like a white flag. But when Felix’s glare didn’t falter, Hyunjin sighed and dropped the sprig onto the floor. “Look, if you hadn’t reacted so… harshly the first time, maybe Y/n wouldn’t be so jumpy now. I mean, do you even know how much she likes you?”  

Felix’s jaw tightened. “What?” he asked, his voice lower now, but Hyunjin just shook his head, standing up to grab a drink. “Figure it out, man. We’re just trying to help, but it’s like you’re both running away every time something happens.”  

Felix didn’t respond. He stared at the mistletoe on the floor, Hyunjin’s words echoing in his head. If you hadn’t reacted so harshly the first time… maybe Y/n wouldn’t be so jumpy now. Was that true? Had he set this whole thing in motion? He thought back to the first mistletoe incident at Changbin’s—a moment he’d shut down immediately because the idea of forcing you into something like that felt wrong. He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or pressured, not when he thought you might find it absolutely weird and deem him a creep or something. But now… was it his reaction that had made things worse? Was he the one creating this distance?  

His chest tightened. He’d thought he was protecting you—protecting your friendship—but maybe he’d only made things more awkward. And now you were running out of rooms because of him. The studio fell quiet again, save for the faint sound of Minho munching on chips. After a long silence, Minho glanced up, leaning forward slightly. “Felix, don’t overthink it,” he said gently, his voice less teasing than usual. “You two always bounce back. Just… maybe next time, don’t run away from the moment, yeah?”  

Felix nodded slowly, Minho’s words sinking in, but he still couldn’t shake the weight in his chest. As rehearsal resumed, he danced on autopilot, his movements mechanical as his mind replayed the night’s events. By the time the music stopped again, one thought was firmly planted in his mind: I can’t let this keep happening. I’ve got to figure out how to make things right with her.  

December 16th:

It had been a few days since the series of awkward holiday encounters—movie night, the dinner at Minho’s, and the fiasco at the dance studio. You and Felix had fallen back into your usual rhythm, or at least, you were trying to. The moments of closeness still felt natural, but there was a tension beneath the surface, a hesitance that hadn’t been there before. You chalked it up to everything that had happened, telling yourself that things would smooth out eventually. 

The two of you were standing by your locker that morning, talking like usual, and for once, it felt normal again. Felix leaned casually against the locker next to yours, his freckled cheeks still slightly pink from the cold outside. 

“I’m calling it now—Chan’s going to make us rewrite our part of the group project by the end of the week,” Felix said with a smirk. “He’s going to find some tiny typo and have an existential crisis about it.” 

You laughed, shaking your head as you grabbed a book from your locker. “He’s probably already composing the email. I give him until tomorrow before we get hit with, ‘Just a few more adjustments.’” 

Felix laughed along with you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Moments like this were your favorite—easy, light, like nothing had changed. The awkwardness from the last few days felt far away, almost forgotten. Almost. 

But then Jisung appeared. 

“Wow, if it isn’t my favorite dynamic duo!” he called out, his voice loud enough to draw a few glances from passing students. You turned your head just as he stopped in front of you, his usual mischievous grin plastered across his face. 

“Jisung…” you began cautiously, narrowing your eyes at him. “What are you doing?” 

Instead of answering, he gave you and Felix a mockingly sweet look, then reached up and held something over your heads. Your stomach sank the moment you realized what he was doing. 

Felix noticed immediately too. His laughter faded, and for a split second, he looked up before his eyes flicked to you. But instead of pulling away or frowning like he had the first time, he hesitated, his lips parting slightly as if he was about to say something. His posture softened, his hand twitching at his side as though he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if he should. “Y/n, it’s not a big deal,” he said, his voice quiet and careful. 

But you didn’t hear the gentleness in his words. The memory of his sharp reaction the first time flashed in your mind like a warning sign. You panicked, your body stiffening as a heat rose to your face. “Jisung!” you exclaimed, your voice harsher than you intended as you reached out to push him aside. 

He stumbled back with a yelp, clutching his chest dramatically. “Whoa, okay! No need to shove!” he said, though his tone was still playful. 

“I’m not doing this right now,” you muttered, hastily grabbing your bag. Your eyes didn’t meet Felix’s, even as you felt his gaze lingering on you. “I’ve got to get to class.” 

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Felix and Jisung standing there in the middle of the hallway. 

The silence between them was heavy for a moment, until Jisung let out a low whistle. “Well, that didn’t go as planned,” he muttered, looking at Felix. 

Felix was still staring down the hall, his expression hard to read. His arms hung at his sides, his shoulders tense. Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but laced with frustration. “Why do you keep doing that, Jisung?” 

Jisung blinked. “Doing what?” 

Felix turned to him, his jaw tight. “This. Pushing her like that. It’s not helping.” 

Jisung tilted his head, holding his hands up defensively. “Whoa, relax, man. I thought you two were back to normal. You were laughing and talking like nothing was wrong—I figured maybe this time, it wouldn’t be a big deal.” 

Felix ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh. “Well, it is a big deal. She’s already uncomfortable with everything that’s happened, and now she’s just…” He trailed off, his voice growing softer. “She probably thinks I don’t want this. That I don’t want her.” 

Jisung frowned, his usual playful expression replaced by something more serious. “You don’t think she knows how you feel?” 

Felix let out a short, humorless laugh. “How could she? The first time this happened, I acted like the whole idea was some big joke. She probably thinks the idea of… of anything between us is disgusting to me.” He leaned back against the lockers, his gaze falling to the floor. “But it’s not. It’s the opposite. I just didn’t want her to feel pressured into anything. I thought I was doing the right thing.” 

Jisung studied him for a moment, then let out a sigh. “Look, man, maybe it’s time to stop trying to protect her from something she doesn’t need protecting from. I mean, she’s clearly as caught up in her head as you are. Maybe instead of freaking out, you could, I don’t know, actually say something next time?” 

Felix looked up at him, frowning. “Say what?” 

Jisung smirked faintly, patting Felix on the shoulder. “Figure it out. Just… do something before she sprints away again. You’re both miserable, and it’s kind of painful to watch.” 

And with that, Jisung walked off, leaving Felix standing alone in the hallway. Felix let out another sigh, leaning his head back against the lockers. 

Maybe Jisung’s right, he thought, the idea twisting in his chest. She probably thinks I don’t want her. But what if she… what if she doesn’t want me either? 

The thought made his stomach churn, but as he stood there, staring down the hallway where you’d disappeared, he resolved to himself that next time—if there was a next time—he wouldn’t let things end like this. 

December 20th:

The soft hum of Christmas music filled the cozy café where you worked, the glow of fairy lights strung along the walls casting a warm, festive ambiance. The evening shift had been slow, with only the occasional customer trickling in, leaving you and Jeongin plenty of time to chat and clean. When the bells above the door jingled, you glanced up, immediately spotting Felix stepping in from the cold. A puff of white breath escaped his lips as he unwrapped the scarf from his neck, his cheeks and nose flushed pink from the chilly December air. He looked tired but happy, and his face lit up when he saw you behind the counter. 

“Felix!” you called out, leaning slightly over the counter to greet him. “Done with your last exam?” 

He grinned as he approached, his hair falling into his eyes. “Finally. I think my brain is fried, but at least I’m free now.” He leaned an elbow on the counter, his usual casual charm impossible to miss. “I needed a victory coffee, and I figured my favorite barista would hook me up.” 

You snorted, grabbing a cup and heading toward the espresso machine. “Victory coffee, huh? Is that what we’re calling it? Be honest—did you crush it or barely survive?” 

“Crushed it,” he replied quickly, then laughed. “Okay, fine. Maybe there was a little panic halfway through the essay. But come on, you try remembering six economic theories when you’re running on two hours of sleep.” 

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you started making his coffee. “Sounds like someone should’ve had one more latte before heading in. Caffeine solves everything, you know.” 

“Ah, yes, the secret to success: caffeine addiction,” he teased, resting both elbows on the counter now as he watched you work. Jeongin, wiping down tables nearby, snorted loud enough to make Felix glance his way. 

“She doesn’t give just anyone free coffee, you know,” Jeongin quipped. “You must be special.” 

Felix smirked, his gaze flickering to yours. “Guess I’m her favorite.” 

You felt your cheeks flush but kept your focus on the coffee machine, pretending his words hadn’t made your heart skip. “Careful, sunshine boy, or I’ll start charging you double.” 

Jeongin grinned knowingly but didn’t push it, disappearing into the back as you handed Felix his coffee. He took a sip, sighing dramatically as though it were the best thing he’d ever tasted. “Perfect, as always.” 

You leaned forward on the counter, resting your chin in your hand as you laughed. “I’ll take that as a five-star Yelp review.” 

“You’d get six stars if you threw in a cookie,” he joked, and just like that, the conversation flowed effortlessly. It didn’t matter how awkward things had been between you recently—when it was just the two of you, everything else seemed to melt away. Felix’s freckled cheeks were still pink from the cold, and the warmth in his eyes as he smiled at you made your stomach flip, though you tried to ignore it. 

The café was quiet, the snow falling softly outside making the whole world feel muffled and still. Felix leaned closer over the counter, his chin propped on his hand now, mirroring your posture as you teased him about his exam. He was laughing again, the sound low and sweet, and you were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t notice how close you’d both leaned toward each other. The space between you was practically nonexistent, and your heart was thudding in your chest, though you weren’t sure why. 

But Felix did notice. Just as his gaze flickered to your lips, a movement caught the corner of his eye. He stilled, his laughter fading as his focus shifted. There, by the pastry case, was Jeongin. He was leaning casually against the counter, a smug grin plastered across his face as he held something above your heads. 

Felix’s stomach twisted when he realized what it was: a sprig of mistletoe, dangling lazily from Jeongin’s hand. His initial instinct was to groan or roll his eyes, to glare at Jeongin for meddling again. But then his gaze returned to you. You were still smiling, your eyes shining as you waited for him to say something, completely unaware of Jeongin’s antics. 

Felix hesitated. He knew how you felt about the mistletoe by now—how every prank this month had left you retreating, flustered and unsure. But something about the way you were looking at him right now, so close and unguarded, made him want to push past the awkwardness and take the chance. Maybe this was his moment to show you how he really felt. 

“Y/n,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine. “Can I tell you something?” 

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued, though you tried to keep your tone light. “You’re not about to say something cheesy, are you?” 

He chuckled, the sound low and genuine, and his gaze softened as he leaned in slightly. “Maybe. But you make it kinda hard not to.” 

You opened your mouth, ready to fire back some teasing remark, but before you could, Felix closed the space between you, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek. The warmth of his lips spread across your skin, catching you so off guard that you froze. For a moment, everything seemed to stand still, the café quiet except for the soft hum of holiday music. But just as your heart started to flutter, your eyes flicked upward—and you saw it. 

There, held high above your heads, was Jeongin’s hand. He was leaning against the counter, the branch in his grip swaying slightly, his grin practically splitting his face in two. 

The giddy warmth from Felix’s kiss vanished, replaced by a sinking feeling in your chest. Of course. Of course Jeongin had been watching, meddling, dangling his stupid branch like some kind of cupid. You stepped back from Felix slightly, your hand brushing your cheek where his lips had been moments before, and let out a nervous laugh. 

“Wow, smooth, Felix,” you said lightly, though your voice felt hollow even to your own ears. You avoided his gaze, your chest tightening with doubt. He’d kissed you, sure, but was it because he wanted to—or because Jeongin had been standing there, making it impossible not to? The thought twisted painfully in your stomach, and you turned your attention to Jeongin, your expression hardening. “And you! Don’t you have anything better to do than play cupid?” 

Jeongin grinned shamelessly, lowering the branch. “Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’ as he straightened up. “You’re welcome, by the way.” 

You rolled your eyes and busied yourself behind the counter, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks. You could feel Felix’s gaze on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. The moment had been so sweet, so perfect, but now it just felt like a game—like all the other forced encounters this month. The thought of it being anything other than real made your chest ache. 

Felix stood there, his own chest tightening as he watched you. He hadn’t missed the way your expression changed the second you noticed Jeongin, how you’d pulled away like the kiss had meant nothing. His grip on his coffee cup tightened, frustration and regret bubbling inside him. He’d kissed you because he wanted to, but now it felt like everything had been ruined by that stupid sprig of greenery. 

Later, as Jeongin wiped down a table nearby, Felix caught his eye. “Really?” Felix said, his voice low as he gestured toward the branch now lying on the counter. “You couldn’t help yourself?” 

Jeongin smirked, completely unbothered. “You two were this close. I just gave you a little push.” 

Felix sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She probably thinks I only kissed her because of you.” 

“Well,” Jeongin said, raising an eyebrow, “did you?” 

Felix glared at him, his voice soft but firm. “No. I kissed her because I wanted to.” 

Jeongin tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost understanding. “Then maybe next time, let her know that. Don’t let me or some stupid branch do it for you.” 

Felix stayed quiet, his eyes flicking toward the counter where you stood, your back still turned to him. Jeongin’s words echoed in his head as he finished his coffee, determination slowly building in his chest. If there was going to be a next time, he wouldn’t leave any room for doubt. Not this time.

December 22nd:

The Christmas party was in full swing, and Chan’s apartment buzzed with the energy of a group finally free from the weight of exams. The music pulsed softly in the background—a mix of festive classics and whatever Jisung had decided to throw into the playlist for chaos. Colored lights blinked unevenly from every corner, their soft glow bathing the room in warmth, while an unsteady Christmas tree leaned dramatically in the corner, its precarious decorations the result of Minho’s refusal to let anyone touch “his masterpiece.” The air was thick with the scent of mulled wine, spiked hot chocolate, and cinnamon candles that Minho had insisted were “mandatory for the aesthetic.” Empty bottles and half-eaten snacks littered the table, and Santa hats had somehow found their way onto everyone’s heads, whether willingly or not. 

In the kitchen, you leaned against the counter, cradling a drink that had gone lukewarm in your hand. Minho stood opposite you, arms crossed and a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he watched you with laser focus. The noise from the living room spilled faintly into the space—Jeongin’s laughter cutting through Chan’s groan of defeat, the clinking of glasses, and Jisung’s exaggerated rendition of “Jingle Bell Rock.” 

Minho raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as he studied you. “Alright, what’s going on?” 

You blinked, startled. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” Minho said, gesturing toward the door with his glass, “that you’ve been glancing at Felix every five minutes like you’re in a cheesy holiday rom-com, and you’ve barely said three words to him all night. Spill.” 

You groaned, setting your drink down on the counter with a little too much force. “It’s nothing,” you muttered, though even you didn’t believe it. “That’s the problem.” 

Minho’s smirk softened, and he leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze not letting you escape. “You know you can talk to me, right? I’m like a free therapist. Minus the therapy license. And the emotional sensitivity.” 

You let out a soft laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “It’s just… complicated,” you said, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. “This whole mistletoe thing—it’s made everything so weird. And now I feel like I don’t even know where I stand with him. What if all those moments didn’t mean anything? What if he only kissed me at the café because Jeongin was standing there waiting for him to do it?” 

Minho let out a long, exasperated sigh, setting his glass down with a dramatic flourish. “Y/n, listen to me. Felix isn’t the kind of guy who does something just because someone else expects him to. If he kissed you, it’s because he wanted to. End of story. Trust me, I’ve known him for years.” 

You frowned, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “But what if I’m wrong? What if I say something, and it ruins everything?” 

Minho gave you a rare, sincere look, his tone softening. “Then at least you’ll know. But, Y/n, come on. The guy looks at you like you hung the stars. You’ve seen it, right? He’s just as caught up in this as you are. But if you don’t talk to him, you’re both gonna keep circling each other forever.” 

You hesitated, the weight of his words settling over you. “You’re really annoying, you know that?” you muttered, picking up your glass again. 

Minho grinned, raising his own glass in a mock toast. “And yet, I’m always right.” 

Across the room, Felix was perched on the edge of the couch, swirling his drink absently as he stared out the window. The faint glow of the city lights reflected in his dark eyes, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He barely noticed the snow falling in lazy flurries, his mind too busy replaying every moment from the past month—the awkwardness, the misunderstandings, and most of all, the way you’d pulled away at the café after Jeongin’s mistletoe stunt. He kept asking himself the same question: Had he ruined it? Had his hesitation made you think he didn’t care? 

Hyunjin plopped down beside him, dragging him back to the present with an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, sunshine boy, what’s your deal?” 

Felix blinked, startled. “What?” 

“You’ve been sulking in the corner all night,” Hyunjin said, poking him in the ribs with a candy cane. “Which, like, fine, maybe it’s your broody winter aesthetic or whatever, but it’s starting to get depressing. What’s going on?” 

Felix let out a soft groan, running a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing.” 

“Oh, it’s definitely not nothing,” Seungmin interjected from across the room, where he was perched on the armrest of the couch. “Even Changbin noticed, and he’s been halfway through that punch bowl for the last hour.” 

Changbin, who was indeed holding another cup of punch, nodded sagely. “Yeah, man. You’ve been staring at Y/n like she’s the last piece of cake at the bakery.” 

Felix groaned again, burying his face in his hands. “I’m not staring.” 

Hyunjin snorted. “Right. Sure. You’re just ‘coincidentally’ looking in her direction every thirty seconds.” 

Felix dropped his hands, shooting them a glare. “I don’t know, okay? The whole mistletoe thing has been a mess, and I feel like every time I try to fix it, I just make things worse. She probably thinks I only kissed her at the café because Jeongin was watching.” 

Hyunjin tilted his head, studying Felix’s slumped posture. “Or—and hear me out—maybe she’s just as scared as you are. Look, Felix, if you want her to know how you feel, you’re gonna have to stop tiptoeing around it. None of this ‘reading between the lines’ crap. Just tell her.” 

Felix’s gaze flicked toward the kitchen, where he could just make out the edge of your figure as you leaned against the counter, talking to Minho. His chest tightened. “Yeah,” he said softly. “You’re right.” 

Hyunjin grinned, clapping him on the back. “Of course I am.” 

The Christmas party had settled into a quieter rhythm, the earlier chaos giving way to a warm buzz of chatter and laughter. Chan’s apartment still brimmed with festive energy—colored lights blinked unevenly from the walls, and the half-decorated tree leaned at an almost comical angle, as though too tired to stand upright after hosting a steady stream of Santa hats and selfies. The scent of mulled wine, cinnamon candles, and something suspiciously burnt wafted through the air, mingling with the faint sounds of Christmas music pulsing from Jisung’s chaotic playlist. 

You needed air. The heat of the apartment and the weight of your swirling thoughts had become too much, so you’d slipped out onto the balcony unnoticed. The cold December breeze bit at your skin, sharp and refreshing, as you leaned against the railing and stared out at the snow-dusted city below. The streetlights illuminated the falling snow like glitter, and for a moment, you let the quiet settle over you, a sharp contrast to the hum of energy inside. 

Your mind, however, refused to settle. It was caught in a loop, replaying every mistletoe encounter from the past month—the awkward laughter, the stolen glances, the kiss at the café. No matter how hard you tried to push it away, one thought kept returning: Did any of it really mean something? Or had Felix simply gone along with it because he felt like he had to? 

The sliding door opened behind you, and you glanced over your shoulder, startled. Felix stepped out, his scarf loosely draped around his neck, and the faint glow from the apartment lit up his freckles like constellations. His cheeks were pink, whether from the cold or the warmth of the party, you weren’t sure. He hesitated for a moment, looking at you like he wasn’t entirely sure he was welcome, before closing the door behind him and stepping closer. 

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice carrying over the breeze. 

“Hey,” you replied, your breath visible in the cold as you turned back to the view. 

For a few moments, neither of you said anything, the silence stretching between you like the snowfall. Felix shifted beside you, leaning on the railing, close enough that his elbow almost brushed yours. You could feel his presence without looking at him, and the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air. 

“Can we talk?” he asked finally, his voice hesitant but steady. 

You nodded, your pulse quickening. “Yeah. We probably should.” 

Felix let out a slow breath, his hands gripping the railing as he looked out at the city. “This whole month has been… a lot,” he started, his voice low. “The mistletoe, the teasing, all of it—it made everything feel so much more complicated than it needed to be. And I know I didn’t exactly handle it well.” He paused, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “The night at Changbin’s… when I reacted the way I did—it wasn’t because I didn’t want to kiss you.” 

You turned to look at him, your chest tightening. “Then why?” 

Felix hesitated, his brows furrowing as he stared down at his hands. “Because I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I didn’t want you to think I was only doing it because they were watching. I didn’t want it to feel like some stupid joke.” His voice softened, and he finally looked up to meet your gaze. “I wanted it to be real. And I didn’t want to ruin anything between us by making it weird.” 

Your breath caught, and you felt the words spilling out before you could stop them. “And I didn’t want you to kiss me because of them either,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I wanted you to kiss me because you wanted to. Not because of some stupid branch, or a game, or anything else.” 

Felix’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. “Y/n,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “that’s the only reason I’ve ever wanted to kiss you.” 

The rawness in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, and your heart felt like it might burst. The tension between you was electric, the cold air forgotten as his gaze held yours, unflinching and unguarded. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Felix spotted something on the small table beside you. 

He let out a soft laugh, breaking the moment as he reached for it. In his hand was a familiar sprig of greenery—another mistletoe branch, as though the universe itself had been conspiring against you all month. Felix raised it above your heads, a playful smile tugging at his lips despite the nervous edge in his eyes. 

“Well,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement, “it wouldn’t be Christmas without one of these, right?” 

You stared at the mistletoe for a moment, your emotions a tangled mess of warmth, frustration, and something close to defiance. Then, without a word, you grabbed the branch from his hand, stepped back, and threw it over the railing. The sprig disappeared into the night, swallowed by the snow below. 

“To hell with that,” you said, your voice steady but breathless. 

Before Felix could react, you closed the distance between you, your hands cupping his face as you leaned in and kissed him. His lips were warm despite the cold, soft and tentative for half a second before he responded, his hands gently settling on your waist like he was afraid you might disappear. The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, like the two of you were pouring every unsaid word, every missed moment, into it. The rest of the world faded away—there was no snow, no cold, no noise from the party inside. There was only him. 

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, your breaths mingling in the frosty air. Felix’s eyes fluttered open, and his freckled cheeks were flushed, his lips tugging into a soft, disbelieving smile. 

“Wow,” he said, his voice low and full of awe. “That was definitely all you.” 

You laughed, your hands still resting against his cheeks. “Yeah, it was.” 

The tender moment was shattered by a loud thump against the glass door. Both of you whipped around to see the boys pressed up against the balcony window—Hyunjin, Jisung, Jeongin, Seungmin, Changbin, Chan, and Minho, all grinning like they’d just won the lottery. Minho smirked as he exchanged a smug high-five with Chan, while Jisung mimed wiping a fake tear from his cheek. 

Felix groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as his ears burned red. “They’re the worst.” 

You couldn’t stop laughing, wrapping your arms around him as you leaned your cheek against his hair. “Yeah,” you said, smiling as the snow continued to fall softly around you. “But maybe we owe them for this one.” 

[jeonginsleftcheek]

omgggg this was adorable!!!

the college setting, them with the damn mistletoe, felix and y/n being so oblivious AAAA it's so cute😭😭

i knew they were watching them kiss at the end and i could just imagine their faces😂

this was like a cozy christmas movie i loved it sm🥺❤️

[cookielixie]

omg thank you 🥹🥹🥹 im so glad you liked it!!!! and also the cozy christmas movie is the exact vibe i was going for🥰❤️ AGAIN THANK YOU FOR READING I WAS VERY NERVOUS POSTING IT HEHE

[cookielixie]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐞 || 𝐥.𝐟. 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

A group of meddling friends, a sprig of mistletoe, and a month full of holiday mischief—what could go wrong? For Y/n and Felix, their obliviousness to their own feelings is only rivaled by their friends’ determination to push them together. As December unfolds, so do a series of awkward, sweet, and unexpected moments that might just make this Christmas unforgettable. 

pairing: lee felix x reader

wordcount: 8k

genre/warnings: college!au, best friends to lovers, friends meddling, mistletoe mishaps, awkward encounters, two very oblivious idiots, suggestive content (like a tiny bit), tooth rotting fluff, mentions of alcohol and partying and a smidge of angst. I guess minsung if u squint

A/N: This has been a wip for like... three years now lmao. i really hope you guys like it, feedback and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated <3 also english is not my first language... so yeah sorry if there are any mistakes

It all started with something simple—shared morning lattes and soft exchanges of “good morning” during your early lectures. Those small, fleeting moments quietly grew into endless hours spent together, until you and Felix became nearly inseparable. The group noticed quickly. The way your laughter came easier when he was around, the way his eyes lingered on you when he thought no one was looking—it was hard to miss. And though you both insisted it was just friendship, the boys could see the truth: you were smitten, both of you, even if you were too stubborn or oblivious to admit it.  

As the year went on, the group quietly rooted for something more to happen. There was an undeniable chemistry between you, a natural ease that left everyone wondering when—not if—you’d finally realize your feelings for each other. But no matter how much teasing or hinting was thrown your way, you both deflected it with flustered laughs and hasty denials. Every attempt to nudge you closer ended the same, with perfect excuses and an almost comical level of obliviousness.  

Eventually, the boys eased off, figuring you’d figure it out on your own. But when December rolled around, your dynamic began to shift. Maybe it was the Christmas spirit, or maybe it was just the closeness that winter seemed to bring, but the two of you became even more inseparable—more clingy, more obviously something.  

It was late November when the group gathered at Chan’s place, watching the two of you from afar and exchanging knowing looks. They’d waited long enough. If gentle teasing and subtle hints weren’t going to work, maybe it was time to take matters into their own hands. Armed with a sprig of mistletoe, a little holiday mischief, and a determination to finally get you two to confess, they began crafting their foolproof plan. This Christmas, one way or another, you and Felix would stop denying what everyone else already knew.  

December 1st:

To kick off the Christmas season, everyone had gathered at Changbin’s for the monthly movie night. Everyone except you and Felix, of course, who were running late after your evening lecture together. The rest of the group had already settled in: Jisung and Minho were cracking open beers and chatting by the couch, Chan and Seungmin were busy piling blankets and pillows onto every available surface, while Hyunjin and Jeongin hovered over the snacks, stealing bites when they thought no one was looking.  

Changbin, meanwhile, was in the kitchen, leaning over the counter with a frantic expression and sweat beading on his forehead. His white t-shirt clung to him, dark spots blooming around the neckline. He’d spent the last hour scrambling to prepare what could only be described as a chaotic masterpiece.  

He held the item up in his hands, tilting it left and right under the kitchen light to inspect its durability. It was a long, slender branch, stripped of its excess twigs and carefully wrapped in duct tape. At the tip dangled a sprig of mistletoe, the final touch to what he jokingly called his “cupid’s staff.” After months of teasing, jokes, and failed schemes to push you and Felix closer, drastic measures were now on the table.  

“Hey, you almost done in here?” Chan’s head popped around the doorframe, startling Changbin. “They’re on their way.”  

Changbin glanced at his creation one last time before sighing. “I have no idea if this’ll work,” he muttered, holding it like a fragile relic.  

Chan smirked, his eyes turning into crescents. “It’s worth a shot. If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.” He gave Changbin an encouraging pat on the shoulder before disappearing back into the living room. Changbin rolled his eyes but couldn’t help grinning as he cleaned up the remnants of his “art project.”  

When you and Felix finally arrived, your shared giggles preceded you, drawing attention as you stepped through the door. The others didn’t waste a second guiding you both to the loveseat—a small, almost comically cramped piece of furniture. You were forced to sit shoulder-to-shoulder, your legs draped casually across Felix’s lap. The closeness didn’t seem to bother either of you, and soon a comfortable silence fell over the room as the opening credits of the movie began to roll.  

Changbin bided his time, waiting until everyone was engrossed in the movie before slipping away to retrieve his cupid’s branch. “Bathroom break,” he muttered, his heart pounding as he snuck the mistletoe stick out of its hiding spot.  

Returning to the room, he carefully hid the branch behind his back as he took his seat. Minho noticed immediately, raising a brow and stifling a laugh, which, of course, drew your attention.  

“What’s so funny, Min?” you asked, glancing over.  

Changbin shot Minho a deadly glare, silently mouthing, Don’t you dare. Minho, however, didn’t even glance back at him. Instead, he deadpanned, “Changbin’s face. It’s just… always funny.”  

The group erupted into laughter, with Seungmin letting out a snort loud enough to shake the pillows. “Minho, I swear, one of these days, I’m going to drop a dumbbell on you at the gym,” Changbin snapped, though the threat lacked any real malice.  

Minho gasped dramatically, turning away with an exaggerated pout. “Whatever, I’m cuddling Jisung now. At least he appreciates me.”  

Jisung, already sitting beside him, slung an arm over Minho’s shoulders. “I got you, Min,” he said with mock sincerity.  

The laughter settled, and everyone turned back to the screen. Everyone except Changbin, who gripped his mistletoe stick like it was Excalibur, waiting for the perfect moment. He threw a quick glance in your direction and couldn’t help but smirk. Your head was now leaning against Felix’s shoulder, your face nestled into the crook of his neck, while his hand rested lightly on your thigh. Felix’s ears were burning red, a clear giveaway of how flustered he was despite his calm expression. You’re making this way too easy for me, Changbin thought, adjusting his grip on the branch.  

Unbeknownst to Changbin, your thoughts were far away from the movie. When did he become so beautiful? you wondered for the hundredth time since you’d met Felix. Tonight, though, the thought felt heavier as you stared at the way the TV’s soft light highlighted his freckles, making his eyes shine like little suns. You’d accepted your feelings for him a long time ago, even if you were convinced they weren’t mutual. You’d come to terms with it—being his friend was enough, wasn’t it? But moments like this, so close to him, made it harder to ignore the small ache in your chest.  

Meanwhile, Felix was doing everything in his power not to look down at you. His heart raced every time your breath fanned against his neck, and the weight of your legs draped over his lap was making it impossible to think straight. He clenched his jaw, his thoughts a chaotic mess. Stop being ridiculous. She doesn’t like you like that. But even as he told himself that, a part of him wished—hoped—that maybe he was wrong.  

That’s when Changbin made his move. Slowly, he leaned forward, positioning the mistletoe just above you and Felix. At first, Felix didn’t notice—his focus was entirely on not pulling you closer. But when a faint movement caught the corner of his eye, his head shot up. His eyes landed on the mistletoe, and his entire body stiffened.  

“What the hell, Changbin?” Felix’s voice came out sharper than intended, snapping everyone’s attention to him. His jaw tightened, and his eyes darted from the mistletoe to Changbin’s sheepish grin.  

“It’s just a bit of fun,” Changbin replied, trying to keep it light. “Tradition, you know?”  

“Yeah, hilarious,” Felix said coldly, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He avoided looking at you entirely, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor.  

Your stomach sank at his reaction. Does the thought of kissing me disgust him that much? you wondered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. Clearing your throat, you shifted slightly away from him, your heart sinking as your insecurities bubbled to the surface.  

Sensing the tension, Minho quickly stepped in. “Alright, alright, let’s get back to the movie, yeah? Changbin, retire your cupid stick.”  

The awkwardness lingered for the rest of the night, though no one dared to mention the mistletoe again. By the time the movie ended, you and Felix left without so much as a word to each other, the comfortable closeness from earlier now replaced with a noticeable distance.  

As you walked home in opposite directions, the silence between you hung heavy in the air, leaving you both with thoughts you couldn’t bring yourselves to say aloud.  

December 6th:

Minho’s invitation to dinner—just you, Felix, and Jisung—felt like the perfect excuse to shake off the awkwardness lingering from the group’s last gathering. Felix had eagerly agreed, and you didn’t hesitate either. Spending time with him in a smaller, more relaxed setting was always easy. Plus, Minho’s cooking was a draw on its own.  

As you stepped into Minho’s apartment, the warmth and delicious aroma of home-cooked food enveloped you immediately. “Welcome to Minho’s Michelin-star kitchen,” he announced proudly, ushering you inside.  

Jisung, sprawled lazily on the couch, smirked. “Minho’s been on a mission to impress all day. He even cleaned the stove. You better be prepared to cry tears of joy.”  

“Please,” Minho shot back. “You’ll be too busy shoving food into your mouth to cry.”  

Laughing, you made your way to the small dining table set beautifully for four. You slid into your seat beside Felix while Minho and Jisung sat across from you. The atmosphere was cozy, made warmer by the soft yellow light spilling from the lamp above the table.  

The conversation flowed easily as you started eating, a mix of light teasing and genuine updates. Minho, always perceptive, grinned as he turned his attention to you. “So, Y/n, heard you totally destroyed that exam you were stressing over? What’s your secret? Is it some kind of illegal genius potion? Do I need to call someone?”  

You laughed, shaking your head. “No genius potion, just sheer panic, too much coffee, and maybe a sprinkle of luck.” You reached for the salt shaker, but your movement froze as your gaze drifted upward. Dangling from the lamp above the table, hanging innocently over you and Felix, was a sprig of mistletoe.  

Your cheeks instantly heated. Minho and Jisung exchanged amused glances, poorly concealing their smirks as they watched you both. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Felix’s grip tighten slightly on his fork, his gaze firmly planted on his plate. He must have noticed it earlier, but he hadn’t said a word. Of course he hadn’t.  

You cleared your throat, breaking the moment, and continued your original task of grabbing the salt, doing your best to ignore the festive little sprig taunting you from above. Felix didn’t look up once, seemingly invested in rearranging the food on his plate.  

For the rest of the meal, your interactions with Felix felt careful and muted, though you couldn’t help sneaking a few glances his way. Whenever Minho wasn’t looking, you narrowed your eyes at him, your silent death glare saying all the things you couldn’t say out loud. But if he noticed your glare—and he absolutely did—he didn’t seem fazed, calmly serving himself another helping of food and chatting with Jisung about the latest drama in their group of friends.  

By the time dinner ended, the mistletoe still hung over you like an unanswered question, but neither of you dared to acknowledge it. You and Felix thanked Minho for the food and began your walk home in the crisp December night air.  

The silence at first was comfortable, your shoes crunching softly against the pavement. It didn’t take long before Felix cracked a joke about Jisung’s overly dramatic reaction to Minho’s slightly burnt bread rolls, and soon your laughter echoed easily down the quiet street.  

Amidst your conversation, Felix slipped his hand into yours. It wasn’t unusual for you two to hold hands—it was something you’d done before—but tonight it felt different. Maybe it was the warmth of the moment, or maybe it was the quiet intimacy of walking side by side under the twinkling streetlights. Whatever it was, you couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt, as though his hand belonged there.  

Felix glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, his soft smile catching the faint glow of the streetlights. “You know,” he began, his voice casual but slightly hesitant, “this kind of feels like… a nice tradition.”  

You tilted your head, squeezing his hand lightly. “What does?”  

“This,” he said, his gaze flicking briefly to your joined hands before he quickly added with a nervous laugh, “You know… just as friends. It’s nice, right? No weird mistletoe stuff this time.”  

Your laugh was light, but something tightened in your chest at his words. “Yeah,” you said softly, glancing ahead. “No surprises hanging over our heads.”  

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either. Felix’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if he was afraid you’d pull away, but you didn’t. You kept walking side by side, your steps naturally syncing with each other like they always did.  

His words lingered in your mind, though, the way he so quickly clarified the moment as just friendly. Did he think you might have assumed something else? Had you been assuming something else? The thought stirred uneasily in your chest, but you shook it off, blaming it on the holiday awkwardness that had been following you both since the start of December.  

Beside you, Felix wasn’t any calmer. His heart raced, and he berated himself silently. ‘Why did I say that? Now it’s weird. What if she thinks I’m overthinking? What if she wasn’t thinking about it, but now she is?’ His thoughts swirled in an endless loop of self-doubt, but even amidst the chaos in his mind, he felt the warmth of your hand in his and refused to let go.  

The walk continued, the quiet punctuated by shared smiles and lighthearted comments, both of you silently agreeing not to think too much about the moment. For now, it was enough.  

Unbeknownst to you, Minho and Jisung stood by their apartment window, watching as your figures grew smaller in the distance. “They’re hopeless,” Jisung said with a laugh, shaking his head.  

“Yeah,” Minho agreed, smiling fondly. “But this time, I think they’re starting to get it.”  

December 12th:

Visits to the dance studio where Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix practiced had become a regular part of your routine. You enjoyed seeing the trio perfect their routines and loved bringing them food and drinks as a small gesture of support. Tonight, you decided to surprise them, knowing how late their rehearsals often ran. The thumping bass and sharp rhythm of the music greeted you as you entered the studio, the trio moving in perfect sync with the beat. The energy in the room was magnetic, and you couldn’t help but admire the sheer dedication in each step. For a moment, you stood in the doorway, watching them in awe, before they noticed you.  

Minho spotted you first, his face breaking into a wide grin. “Perfect timing, Y/n! We’re starving,” he announced, cutting the music off as the others collapsed onto the floor in mock exhaustion. Hyunjin dramatically wiped his brow, flopping onto his back. “You’re basically a lifesaver at this point,” he joked, while Felix walked over to you with a shy smile, murmuring a soft “Thanks for coming.”  

You sat down with them on the studio floor, unpacking the food and drinks. The conversation flowed easily, filled with playful teasing and updates about your days. Felix, ever the enthusiastic eater, dove into his food with gusto, but it didn’t take long for disaster to strike. “You’ve got sauce on your face, Felix,” you said, stifling a laugh as you reached for a napkin. Without hesitation, you leaned in to wipe it off.  

But just as your hand neared his face, Hyunjin leaned over you with an outstretched arm, dangling a sprig of mistletoe above your head. “Oops, look at that,” he said with a mischievous grin. Your hand froze midair, your eyes locking on the mistletoe first, then darting to Felix. His eyes were wide, his cheeks already dusted with pink. The moment stretched out awkwardly, your hand only inches from his face, until the reality of the situation hit you like a jolt. You recoiled sharply, your heart racing. “I—I should go,” you stammered, grabbing your bag and standing up so quickly it almost knocked over a drink. “Lots to do tonight, sorry!” Before anyone could say a word, you rushed out of the studio, the door swinging shut behind you.  

The silence left behind was deafening. Felix sat frozen, his hand hovering where yours had been moments before, staring at the door you’d disappeared through. His brow furrowed as a mix of frustration and regret crossed his face. “Hyunjin,” he said slowly, his tone sharp, “what the hell was that? The mistletoe again?”  

Hyunjin blinked, startled by Felix’s tone. “I just thought it’d be funny,” he said defensively, holding the mistletoe up like a white flag. But when Felix’s glare didn’t falter, Hyunjin sighed and dropped the sprig onto the floor. “Look, if you hadn’t reacted so… harshly the first time, maybe Y/n wouldn’t be so jumpy now. I mean, do you even know how much she likes you?”  

Felix’s jaw tightened. “What?” he asked, his voice lower now, but Hyunjin just shook his head, standing up to grab a drink. “Figure it out, man. We’re just trying to help, but it’s like you’re both running away every time something happens.”  

Felix didn’t respond. He stared at the mistletoe on the floor, Hyunjin’s words echoing in his head. If you hadn’t reacted so harshly the first time… maybe Y/n wouldn’t be so jumpy now. Was that true? Had he set this whole thing in motion? He thought back to the first mistletoe incident at Changbin’s—a moment he’d shut down immediately because the idea of forcing you into something like that felt wrong. He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or pressured, not when he thought you might find it absolutely weird and deem him a creep or something. But now… was it his reaction that had made things worse? Was he the one creating this distance?  

His chest tightened. He’d thought he was protecting you—protecting your friendship—but maybe he’d only made things more awkward. And now you were running out of rooms because of him. The studio fell quiet again, save for the faint sound of Minho munching on chips. After a long silence, Minho glanced up, leaning forward slightly. “Felix, don’t overthink it,” he said gently, his voice less teasing than usual. “You two always bounce back. Just… maybe next time, don’t run away from the moment, yeah?”  

Felix nodded slowly, Minho’s words sinking in, but he still couldn’t shake the weight in his chest. As rehearsal resumed, he danced on autopilot, his movements mechanical as his mind replayed the night’s events. By the time the music stopped again, one thought was firmly planted in his mind: I can’t let this keep happening. I’ve got to figure out how to make things right with her.  

December 16th:

It had been a few days since the series of awkward holiday encounters—movie night, the dinner at Minho’s, and the fiasco at the dance studio. You and Felix had fallen back into your usual rhythm, or at least, you were trying to. The moments of closeness still felt natural, but there was a tension beneath the surface, a hesitance that hadn’t been there before. You chalked it up to everything that had happened, telling yourself that things would smooth out eventually. 

The two of you were standing by your locker that morning, talking like usual, and for once, it felt normal again. Felix leaned casually against the locker next to yours, his freckled cheeks still slightly pink from the cold outside. 

“I’m calling it now—Chan’s going to make us rewrite our part of the group project by the end of the week,” Felix said with a smirk. “He’s going to find some tiny typo and have an existential crisis about it.” 

You laughed, shaking your head as you grabbed a book from your locker. “He’s probably already composing the email. I give him until tomorrow before we get hit with, ‘Just a few more adjustments.’” 

Felix laughed along with you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Moments like this were your favorite—easy, light, like nothing had changed. The awkwardness from the last few days felt far away, almost forgotten. Almost. 

But then Jisung appeared. 

“Wow, if it isn’t my favorite dynamic duo!” he called out, his voice loud enough to draw a few glances from passing students. You turned your head just as he stopped in front of you, his usual mischievous grin plastered across his face. 

“Jisung…” you began cautiously, narrowing your eyes at him. “What are you doing?” 

Instead of answering, he gave you and Felix a mockingly sweet look, then reached up and held something over your heads. Your stomach sank the moment you realized what he was doing. 

Felix noticed immediately too. His laughter faded, and for a split second, he looked up before his eyes flicked to you. But instead of pulling away or frowning like he had the first time, he hesitated, his lips parting slightly as if he was about to say something. His posture softened, his hand twitching at his side as though he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if he should. “Y/n, it’s not a big deal,” he said, his voice quiet and careful. 

But you didn’t hear the gentleness in his words. The memory of his sharp reaction the first time flashed in your mind like a warning sign. You panicked, your body stiffening as a heat rose to your face. “Jisung!” you exclaimed, your voice harsher than you intended as you reached out to push him aside. 

He stumbled back with a yelp, clutching his chest dramatically. “Whoa, okay! No need to shove!” he said, though his tone was still playful. 

“I’m not doing this right now,” you muttered, hastily grabbing your bag. Your eyes didn’t meet Felix’s, even as you felt his gaze lingering on you. “I’ve got to get to class.” 

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Felix and Jisung standing there in the middle of the hallway. 

The silence between them was heavy for a moment, until Jisung let out a low whistle. “Well, that didn’t go as planned,” he muttered, looking at Felix. 

Felix was still staring down the hall, his expression hard to read. His arms hung at his sides, his shoulders tense. Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but laced with frustration. “Why do you keep doing that, Jisung?” 

Jisung blinked. “Doing what?” 

Felix turned to him, his jaw tight. “This. Pushing her like that. It’s not helping.” 

Jisung tilted his head, holding his hands up defensively. “Whoa, relax, man. I thought you two were back to normal. You were laughing and talking like nothing was wrong—I figured maybe this time, it wouldn’t be a big deal.” 

Felix ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh. “Well, it is a big deal. She’s already uncomfortable with everything that’s happened, and now she’s just…” He trailed off, his voice growing softer. “She probably thinks I don’t want this. That I don’t want her.” 

Jisung frowned, his usual playful expression replaced by something more serious. “You don’t think she knows how you feel?” 

Felix let out a short, humorless laugh. “How could she? The first time this happened, I acted like the whole idea was some big joke. She probably thinks the idea of… of anything between us is disgusting to me.” He leaned back against the lockers, his gaze falling to the floor. “But it’s not. It’s the opposite. I just didn’t want her to feel pressured into anything. I thought I was doing the right thing.” 

Jisung studied him for a moment, then let out a sigh. “Look, man, maybe it’s time to stop trying to protect her from something she doesn’t need protecting from. I mean, she’s clearly as caught up in her head as you are. Maybe instead of freaking out, you could, I don’t know, actually say something next time?” 

Felix looked up at him, frowning. “Say what?” 

Jisung smirked faintly, patting Felix on the shoulder. “Figure it out. Just… do something before she sprints away again. You’re both miserable, and it’s kind of painful to watch.” 

And with that, Jisung walked off, leaving Felix standing alone in the hallway. Felix let out another sigh, leaning his head back against the lockers. 

Maybe Jisung’s right, he thought, the idea twisting in his chest. She probably thinks I don’t want her. But what if she… what if she doesn’t want me either? 

The thought made his stomach churn, but as he stood there, staring down the hallway where you’d disappeared, he resolved to himself that next time—if there was a next time—he wouldn’t let things end like this. 

December 20th:

The soft hum of Christmas music filled the cozy café where you worked, the glow of fairy lights strung along the walls casting a warm, festive ambiance. The evening shift had been slow, with only the occasional customer trickling in, leaving you and Jeongin plenty of time to chat and clean. When the bells above the door jingled, you glanced up, immediately spotting Felix stepping in from the cold. A puff of white breath escaped his lips as he unwrapped the scarf from his neck, his cheeks and nose flushed pink from the chilly December air. He looked tired but happy, and his face lit up when he saw you behind the counter. 

“Felix!” you called out, leaning slightly over the counter to greet him. “Done with your last exam?” 

He grinned as he approached, his hair falling into his eyes. “Finally. I think my brain is fried, but at least I’m free now.” He leaned an elbow on the counter, his usual casual charm impossible to miss. “I needed a victory coffee, and I figured my favorite barista would hook me up.” 

You snorted, grabbing a cup and heading toward the espresso machine. “Victory coffee, huh? Is that what we’re calling it? Be honest—did you crush it or barely survive?” 

“Crushed it,” he replied quickly, then laughed. “Okay, fine. Maybe there was a little panic halfway through the essay. But come on, you try remembering six economic theories when you’re running on two hours of sleep.” 

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you started making his coffee. “Sounds like someone should’ve had one more latte before heading in. Caffeine solves everything, you know.” 

“Ah, yes, the secret to success: caffeine addiction,” he teased, resting both elbows on the counter now as he watched you work. Jeongin, wiping down tables nearby, snorted loud enough to make Felix glance his way. 

“She doesn’t give just anyone free coffee, you know,” Jeongin quipped. “You must be special.” 

Felix smirked, his gaze flickering to yours. “Guess I’m her favorite.” 

You felt your cheeks flush but kept your focus on the coffee machine, pretending his words hadn’t made your heart skip. “Careful, sunshine boy, or I’ll start charging you double.” 

Jeongin grinned knowingly but didn’t push it, disappearing into the back as you handed Felix his coffee. He took a sip, sighing dramatically as though it were the best thing he’d ever tasted. “Perfect, as always.” 

You leaned forward on the counter, resting your chin in your hand as you laughed. “I’ll take that as a five-star Yelp review.” 

“You’d get six stars if you threw in a cookie,” he joked, and just like that, the conversation flowed effortlessly. It didn’t matter how awkward things had been between you recently—when it was just the two of you, everything else seemed to melt away. Felix’s freckled cheeks were still pink from the cold, and the warmth in his eyes as he smiled at you made your stomach flip, though you tried to ignore it. 

The café was quiet, the snow falling softly outside making the whole world feel muffled and still. Felix leaned closer over the counter, his chin propped on his hand now, mirroring your posture as you teased him about his exam. He was laughing again, the sound low and sweet, and you were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t notice how close you’d both leaned toward each other. The space between you was practically nonexistent, and your heart was thudding in your chest, though you weren’t sure why. 

But Felix did notice. Just as his gaze flickered to your lips, a movement caught the corner of his eye. He stilled, his laughter fading as his focus shifted. There, by the pastry case, was Jeongin. He was leaning casually against the counter, a smug grin plastered across his face as he held something above your heads. 

Felix’s stomach twisted when he realized what it was: a sprig of mistletoe, dangling lazily from Jeongin’s hand. His initial instinct was to groan or roll his eyes, to glare at Jeongin for meddling again. But then his gaze returned to you. You were still smiling, your eyes shining as you waited for him to say something, completely unaware of Jeongin’s antics. 

Felix hesitated. He knew how you felt about the mistletoe by now—how every prank this month had left you retreating, flustered and unsure. But something about the way you were looking at him right now, so close and unguarded, made him want to push past the awkwardness and take the chance. Maybe this was his moment to show you how he really felt. 

“Y/n,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine. “Can I tell you something?” 

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued, though you tried to keep your tone light. “You’re not about to say something cheesy, are you?” 

He chuckled, the sound low and genuine, and his gaze softened as he leaned in slightly. “Maybe. But you make it kinda hard not to.” 

You opened your mouth, ready to fire back some teasing remark, but before you could, Felix closed the space between you, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek. The warmth of his lips spread across your skin, catching you so off guard that you froze. For a moment, everything seemed to stand still, the café quiet except for the soft hum of holiday music. But just as your heart started to flutter, your eyes flicked upward—and you saw it. 

There, held high above your heads, was Jeongin’s hand. He was leaning against the counter, the branch in his grip swaying slightly, his grin practically splitting his face in two. 

The giddy warmth from Felix’s kiss vanished, replaced by a sinking feeling in your chest. Of course. Of course Jeongin had been watching, meddling, dangling his stupid branch like some kind of cupid. You stepped back from Felix slightly, your hand brushing your cheek where his lips had been moments before, and let out a nervous laugh. 

“Wow, smooth, Felix,” you said lightly, though your voice felt hollow even to your own ears. You avoided his gaze, your chest tightening with doubt. He’d kissed you, sure, but was it because he wanted to—or because Jeongin had been standing there, making it impossible not to? The thought twisted painfully in your stomach, and you turned your attention to Jeongin, your expression hardening. “And you! Don’t you have anything better to do than play cupid?” 

Jeongin grinned shamelessly, lowering the branch. “Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’ as he straightened up. “You’re welcome, by the way.” 

You rolled your eyes and busied yourself behind the counter, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks. You could feel Felix’s gaze on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. The moment had been so sweet, so perfect, but now it just felt like a game—like all the other forced encounters this month. The thought of it being anything other than real made your chest ache. 

Felix stood there, his own chest tightening as he watched you. He hadn’t missed the way your expression changed the second you noticed Jeongin, how you’d pulled away like the kiss had meant nothing. His grip on his coffee cup tightened, frustration and regret bubbling inside him. He’d kissed you because he wanted to, but now it felt like everything had been ruined by that stupid sprig of greenery. 

Later, as Jeongin wiped down a table nearby, Felix caught his eye. “Really?” Felix said, his voice low as he gestured toward the branch now lying on the counter. “You couldn’t help yourself?” 

Jeongin smirked, completely unbothered. “You two were this close. I just gave you a little push.” 

Felix sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She probably thinks I only kissed her because of you.” 

“Well,” Jeongin said, raising an eyebrow, “did you?” 

Felix glared at him, his voice soft but firm. “No. I kissed her because I wanted to.” 

Jeongin tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost understanding. “Then maybe next time, let her know that. Don’t let me or some stupid branch do it for you.” 

Felix stayed quiet, his eyes flicking toward the counter where you stood, your back still turned to him. Jeongin’s words echoed in his head as he finished his coffee, determination slowly building in his chest. If there was going to be a next time, he wouldn’t leave any room for doubt. Not this time.

December 22nd:

The Christmas party was in full swing, and Chan’s apartment buzzed with the energy of a group finally free from the weight of exams. The music pulsed softly in the background—a mix of festive classics and whatever Jisung had decided to throw into the playlist for chaos. Colored lights blinked unevenly from every corner, their soft glow bathing the room in warmth, while an unsteady Christmas tree leaned dramatically in the corner, its precarious decorations the result of Minho’s refusal to let anyone touch “his masterpiece.” The air was thick with the scent of mulled wine, spiked hot chocolate, and cinnamon candles that Minho had insisted were “mandatory for the aesthetic.” Empty bottles and half-eaten snacks littered the table, and Santa hats had somehow found their way onto everyone’s heads, whether willingly or not. 

In the kitchen, you leaned against the counter, cradling a drink that had gone lukewarm in your hand. Minho stood opposite you, arms crossed and a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he watched you with laser focus. The noise from the living room spilled faintly into the space—Jeongin’s laughter cutting through Chan’s groan of defeat, the clinking of glasses, and Jisung’s exaggerated rendition of “Jingle Bell Rock.” 

Minho raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as he studied you. “Alright, what’s going on?” 

You blinked, startled. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” Minho said, gesturing toward the door with his glass, “that you’ve been glancing at Felix every five minutes like you’re in a cheesy holiday rom-com, and you’ve barely said three words to him all night. Spill.” 

You groaned, setting your drink down on the counter with a little too much force. “It’s nothing,” you muttered, though even you didn’t believe it. “That’s the problem.” 

Minho’s smirk softened, and he leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze not letting you escape. “You know you can talk to me, right? I’m like a free therapist. Minus the therapy license. And the emotional sensitivity.” 

You let out a soft laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “It’s just… complicated,” you said, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. “This whole mistletoe thing—it’s made everything so weird. And now I feel like I don’t even know where I stand with him. What if all those moments didn’t mean anything? What if he only kissed me at the café because Jeongin was standing there waiting for him to do it?” 

Minho let out a long, exasperated sigh, setting his glass down with a dramatic flourish. “Y/n, listen to me. Felix isn’t the kind of guy who does something just because someone else expects him to. If he kissed you, it’s because he wanted to. End of story. Trust me, I’ve known him for years.” 

You frowned, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “But what if I’m wrong? What if I say something, and it ruins everything?” 

Minho gave you a rare, sincere look, his tone softening. “Then at least you’ll know. But, Y/n, come on. The guy looks at you like you hung the stars. You’ve seen it, right? He’s just as caught up in this as you are. But if you don’t talk to him, you’re both gonna keep circling each other forever.” 

You hesitated, the weight of his words settling over you. “You’re really annoying, you know that?” you muttered, picking up your glass again. 

Minho grinned, raising his own glass in a mock toast. “And yet, I’m always right.” 

Across the room, Felix was perched on the edge of the couch, swirling his drink absently as he stared out the window. The faint glow of the city lights reflected in his dark eyes, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He barely noticed the snow falling in lazy flurries, his mind too busy replaying every moment from the past month—the awkwardness, the misunderstandings, and most of all, the way you’d pulled away at the café after Jeongin’s mistletoe stunt. He kept asking himself the same question: Had he ruined it? Had his hesitation made you think he didn’t care? 

Hyunjin plopped down beside him, dragging him back to the present with an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, sunshine boy, what’s your deal?” 

Felix blinked, startled. “What?” 

“You’ve been sulking in the corner all night,” Hyunjin said, poking him in the ribs with a candy cane. “Which, like, fine, maybe it’s your broody winter aesthetic or whatever, but it’s starting to get depressing. What’s going on?” 

Felix let out a soft groan, running a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing.” 

“Oh, it’s definitely not nothing,” Seungmin interjected from across the room, where he was perched on the armrest of the couch. “Even Changbin noticed, and he’s been halfway through that punch bowl for the last hour.” 

Changbin, who was indeed holding another cup of punch, nodded sagely. “Yeah, man. You’ve been staring at Y/n like she’s the last piece of cake at the bakery.” 

Felix groaned again, burying his face in his hands. “I’m not staring.” 

Hyunjin snorted. “Right. Sure. You’re just ‘coincidentally’ looking in her direction every thirty seconds.” 

Felix dropped his hands, shooting them a glare. “I don’t know, okay? The whole mistletoe thing has been a mess, and I feel like every time I try to fix it, I just make things worse. She probably thinks I only kissed her at the café because Jeongin was watching.” 

Hyunjin tilted his head, studying Felix’s slumped posture. “Or—and hear me out—maybe she’s just as scared as you are. Look, Felix, if you want her to know how you feel, you’re gonna have to stop tiptoeing around it. None of this ‘reading between the lines’ crap. Just tell her.” 

Felix’s gaze flicked toward the kitchen, where he could just make out the edge of your figure as you leaned against the counter, talking to Minho. His chest tightened. “Yeah,” he said softly. “You’re right.” 

Hyunjin grinned, clapping him on the back. “Of course I am.” 

The Christmas party had settled into a quieter rhythm, the earlier chaos giving way to a warm buzz of chatter and laughter. Chan’s apartment still brimmed with festive energy—colored lights blinked unevenly from the walls, and the half-decorated tree leaned at an almost comical angle, as though too tired to stand upright after hosting a steady stream of Santa hats and selfies. The scent of mulled wine, cinnamon candles, and something suspiciously burnt wafted through the air, mingling with the faint sounds of Christmas music pulsing from Jisung’s chaotic playlist. 

You needed air. The heat of the apartment and the weight of your swirling thoughts had become too much, so you’d slipped out onto the balcony unnoticed. The cold December breeze bit at your skin, sharp and refreshing, as you leaned against the railing and stared out at the snow-dusted city below. The streetlights illuminated the falling snow like glitter, and for a moment, you let the quiet settle over you, a sharp contrast to the hum of energy inside. 

Your mind, however, refused to settle. It was caught in a loop, replaying every mistletoe encounter from the past month—the awkward laughter, the stolen glances, the kiss at the café. No matter how hard you tried to push it away, one thought kept returning: Did any of it really mean something? Or had Felix simply gone along with it because he felt like he had to? 

The sliding door opened behind you, and you glanced over your shoulder, startled. Felix stepped out, his scarf loosely draped around his neck, and the faint glow from the apartment lit up his freckles like constellations. His cheeks were pink, whether from the cold or the warmth of the party, you weren’t sure. He hesitated for a moment, looking at you like he wasn’t entirely sure he was welcome, before closing the door behind him and stepping closer. 

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice carrying over the breeze. 

“Hey,” you replied, your breath visible in the cold as you turned back to the view. 

For a few moments, neither of you said anything, the silence stretching between you like the snowfall. Felix shifted beside you, leaning on the railing, close enough that his elbow almost brushed yours. You could feel his presence without looking at him, and the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air. 

“Can we talk?” he asked finally, his voice hesitant but steady. 

You nodded, your pulse quickening. “Yeah. We probably should.” 

Felix let out a slow breath, his hands gripping the railing as he looked out at the city. “This whole month has been… a lot,” he started, his voice low. “The mistletoe, the teasing, all of it—it made everything feel so much more complicated than it needed to be. And I know I didn’t exactly handle it well.” He paused, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “The night at Changbin’s… when I reacted the way I did—it wasn’t because I didn’t want to kiss you.” 

You turned to look at him, your chest tightening. “Then why?” 

Felix hesitated, his brows furrowing as he stared down at his hands. “Because I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I didn’t want you to think I was only doing it because they were watching. I didn’t want it to feel like some stupid joke.” His voice softened, and he finally looked up to meet your gaze. “I wanted it to be real. And I didn’t want to ruin anything between us by making it weird.” 

Your breath caught, and you felt the words spilling out before you could stop them. “And I didn’t want you to kiss me because of them either,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I wanted you to kiss me because you wanted to. Not because of some stupid branch, or a game, or anything else.” 

Felix’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. “Y/n,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “that’s the only reason I’ve ever wanted to kiss you.” 

The rawness in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, and your heart felt like it might burst. The tension between you was electric, the cold air forgotten as his gaze held yours, unflinching and unguarded. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Felix spotted something on the small table beside you. 

He let out a soft laugh, breaking the moment as he reached for it. In his hand was a familiar sprig of greenery—another mistletoe branch, as though the universe itself had been conspiring against you all month. Felix raised it above your heads, a playful smile tugging at his lips despite the nervous edge in his eyes. 

“Well,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement, “it wouldn’t be Christmas without one of these, right?” 

You stared at the mistletoe for a moment, your emotions a tangled mess of warmth, frustration, and something close to defiance. Then, without a word, you grabbed the branch from his hand, stepped back, and threw it over the railing. The sprig disappeared into the night, swallowed by the snow below. 

“To hell with that,” you said, your voice steady but breathless. 

Before Felix could react, you closed the distance between you, your hands cupping his face as you leaned in and kissed him. His lips were warm despite the cold, soft and tentative for half a second before he responded, his hands gently settling on your waist like he was afraid you might disappear. The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, like the two of you were pouring every unsaid word, every missed moment, into it. The rest of the world faded away—there was no snow, no cold, no noise from the party inside. There was only him. 

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, your breaths mingling in the frosty air. Felix’s eyes fluttered open, and his freckled cheeks were flushed, his lips tugging into a soft, disbelieving smile. 

“Wow,” he said, his voice low and full of awe. “That was definitely all you.” 

You laughed, your hands still resting against his cheeks. “Yeah, it was.” 

The tender moment was shattered by a loud thump against the glass door. Both of you whipped around to see the boys pressed up against the balcony window—Hyunjin, Jisung, Jeongin, Seungmin, Changbin, Chan, and Minho, all grinning like they’d just won the lottery. Minho smirked as he exchanged a smug high-five with Chan, while Jisung mimed wiping a fake tear from his cheek. 

Felix groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as his ears burned red. “They’re the worst.” 

You couldn’t stop laughing, wrapping your arms around him as you leaned your cheek against his hair. “Yeah,” you said, smiling as the snow continued to fall softly around you. “But maybe we owe them for this one.” 

[rosylix]

blossom

아찔하게 말할게, 이 밤의 끝에 우린 피어나 𖹭

how are you supposed to remain sane around felix after the most inconceivable night of your entire life? spoiler; you can't

pairing: bff!felix × gn!reader

wc: 16.7k

content: college au, smut, fluff, angst, inexperienced(??) reader, switchy!felix, hickeys, dry humping, theyre both idiots, a few text message screenshots, friends to lovers, they.... kiss.......

a/n: sauur we made it. ty for sticking with me! i made myself sick writing this they are so cringe and sappy. pls be warned.... theyre insufferable.

[also read on ao3]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

—

Felix doesn't come back.

At least, you somehow managed to fall back asleep before he did, and now it's early morning, judging by the thin beams of sunlight peeking through the half-drawn blinds. 

You sit up, squinting at the brightness and rub your eyes. Everything from last night comes back in a rush and you freeze mid-blink with a gasp.

Well, shit. Did that really happen?

You almost want to lie back down, pull the covers over your head and continue sleeping so you can pretend last night didn't happen in a vain hope of avoiding any and all embarrassment. 

But, no. You'll have to get up eventually. Also, you need to pee. And where's Felix?

Reluctantly, you force yourself out of bed and head to the bathroom. It's empty. You take as long as you can to brush your teeth and wash your face with cold water, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You look normal, if a little tired. 

You take a deep breath, trying to rationalize. What happened last night… It's a natural thing. It happens. It's not like Felix knew what he was doing, or that you were awake (and whose fault is that?). You just happened to be wrapped in his arms but it literally doesn't have to be a big deal. You honestly don't know shit about any of this but… Right? It's not a big deal. You can still be normal about this. About him.

That almost all goes out the window when you finally venture out of the bathroom.

Your feet stop moving as soon as you round the corner. The kitchen area is connected to the living room with no real barrier, so you have a full view of everything. Sure enough, there's Felix, standing by the stove with his back turned to you.

For a moment, it’s like nothing happened. This is just a normal morning after a sleepover with your best friend. 

You can pretend.

You shuffle forward, clearing your throat.

He whips around at the sound of your voice and for a moment, he freezes, face blank before it morphs into a smile, and you immediately want to melt into a puddle and cease to exist because he looks like sin personified.

Maybe you're just projecting, because he doesn't look any different than normal. He always looks like this. But not like… this. He's wearing the same loose white shirt that almost drowns his slender frame and reveals a delicious amount of collarbone as it almost slips off one shoulder. His hair is fluffy and messy from sleep, making him look like an actual fucking angel, and the warm morning light spilling in through the windows illuminates his skin. The whole scene is like a freaking renaissance painting. 

“Morning!” he says cheerfully, turning back to the stove. Completely normal. Maybe it really was all a fever dream. 

It takes a second before you realize you're just standing there, gawking in his direction like an idiot. “Morning,” you echo. Smooth. You take a step forward, still hovering. It's silent for an excruciatingly long moment.

Felix clears his throat. “Did you— Did you sleep well?”

You blink. “Um…”

“I mean— ‘Cause the… the storm… was pretty loud…” he says slowly. “Uh… But, you didn't, like, wake up at all last night?”

You pause, heart dropping as you realize what he's asking. Did you wake up?

You have to give him credit; it's only because you know better that you notice the uncertainty in his voice, the way his shoulders are set a little higher than usual. You can't see his face but the way he's tensed up tells you he's more than a little anxious. 

Well. You're going to die on this hill. “No.”

He sighs. Out of relief? Disappointment? You don’t know. “Okay. Good. I mean, I'm glad. That you slept alright.”

You nod. Cool. This isn't awkward at all. You don't know what else to say so you return the question to him. “Did you...?”

“Me? Yeah. Yeah, uh, I was fine. Loads better than the floor so, yeah, thanks for not letting me be an idiot about that.”

You hum noncommittally. Should you leave? (Yes.) There's no real reason for you to stay longer since the weather cleared up. Would it be too weird to leave so suddenly? (Yes.) But you really can't stand this tension much longer. Fuck pretending. You're awful at this.

“Uh, so…” Felix turns his head to you, interrupting your thoughts. “You hungry? Want breakfast?”

You’re about to say no but… you are hungry. And whatever he's making — pancakes? — smells good. Well, breakfast sounds normal enough.

“Sure,” you say instead. That's a normal thing to say.

Felix smiles at your response, seeming to relax a little as he turns back to the stove, spatula in hand. You stare at his back for a moment before deciding standing around is making you antsy. You move to lean against the counter across from the stove, watching him pour the pancake batter a little clumsily.

“So…” you start and his arm suddenly twitches, spilling batter on his hand. He swears and reaches to the sink to quickly wash it off before running the wet hand through his unruly hair. You watch as a few drops of water drip down his neck and you kind of want to touch them, trace their path with your fingers. Or your mouth. Maybe…

Wow. Wowww. You're actually unwell. What the hell? You need to sit the fuck down.

As you do that, pulling out a chair only slightly dizzily, he speaks. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Were you saying something? You're so lost. “Um…” you swallow. “H-How long have you been up…?”

Felix hums and flips the pancakes carefully. “Not too long… A couple hours, maybe?”

A couple hours? He’s been up for hours, plural? Doing what? Waiting for you to wake up?

“Oh.” You swallow again. “How come?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” is his casual reply, followed by a shrug. “Figured I should do something so…” he gestures to the stove. 

“Oh,” you repeat, still struggling to get your head straight. The kitchen is also spotless, you notice, any leftover mess from the cookies yesterday miraculously gone. He probably stress-cleaned or something. Your heart hurts for him and how he must be feeling but what can you do? It's your own fault you can't even talk to him about it and clear the air. You dug this grave.

“You didn't have to. Make breakfast, I mean.”

He looks over his shoulder for a second, his smile strained when he says, “No, I know. I just… wanted to do something nice.”

You look down at your hands, guilt twisting your stomach. This… This is your fault. He wouldn't be suffering quietly like this if it weren't for you. 

“Thanks,” you murmur.

Felix lets out a little laugh. “Don't sound so enthusiastic.”

“That's the most enthusiastic I can sound this early in the morning,” you say, earning a huff of amusement from him in response.

“Well, they're not worth much enthusiasm anyway. I kinda— I dunno. They're uh…” he turns off the stove, presumably finished, but he hesitates before turning around. “Well…” he places the plate of pancakes down in front of you and laughs sheepishly. 

Ah. They are quite… dark. Well done, if you will. You fight the urge to laugh as you stare down at the plate of pancakes that look vaguely like hockey pucks.

“Is there something funny?”

You look up to see him watching you with a small pout, his eyebrows drawn in. You can’t hide your smile this time, especially when his lips slowly quirk up in response.

“No, no, um…” You glance back down at the plate of black holes. “They look great.”

“Don't lie.” He sits down across from you, elbows propped, a pout on his face. His face is flushed. Up close, you can see the darkness under his eyes. You wonder if he slept at all.

“I don't know what's wrong with me…” he sighs, covering his face a little, and you get the sense he's talking about more than just burnt pancakes.

“I…” Your heart squeezes at his dejected voice. “It's okay, really, Felix,” you say, but if you're implicating something more than just burnt pancakes too, he'll never know. “It happens.” 

He chuckles softly and peeks at you through his fingers. “Yeah. I’m just… a bit out of it, I guess.”

You nod. You’re a little out of it, too. You can't stop staring at his face, the pink flush to his cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, his hair sticking up a little haphazardly, the way his lashes flutter as he blinks tiredly. He looks so… pretty. He always looks pretty. 

He peeks at you again, and you catch yourself and look away. You should say something. You should say you were awake last night. You should tell him you're not upset. You should just be honest.

You don't do any of that. Felix sits up with a huff and starts combing through the pancake stack, picking out a few less egregious ones and putting them on a plate for you.

“There.” He slides the plate over to you. “Try a couple of these.”

He's a good friend, is your first thought, watching him try to salvage the pancakes with a fond smile. At least he has the wherewithal to look sheepish for making such a thing. You don't mind, though. You'd eat them anyway, burnt or not. You’ve never been able to deny him anything, even before all this, so you’ve certainly got no chance now.

He glances at you, noticing your smile, and laughs. You can see a bit of the tension from earlier leaving his body, his shoulders less tense as he watches you cut into the pancakes with your fork. He reaches over and pours some syrup over the cooled pancakes before settling back in his chair, resting his head against his hand. 

“Sorry they're not the best. Didn't realize I'm shit at cooking until just now.”

Despite his claims, and the lackluster presentation, the pancakes aren’t bad at all. The edges are crispy (if a bit crunchy) and the inside is surprisingly fluffy. You tell him as much and he crosses his arms over his chest unbelievably, but you see him fighting the smile on his face, tongue in cheek. It’s so, so cute. Truly, you are a goner.

“I'm serious!” you say. “I think they're great!”

He rolls his eyes at you, still smiling. “I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m telling the truth.” You take another bite for emphasis. “Mmm,” you hum, only exaggerating a little. So what? You see the way he lights up at your praise, and you're grateful for his efforts — even if they look burnt to hell.

You guess you mumbled that last part out loud because Felix snorts, looking up and resting his chin on his arms. “To hell? You can say that again.”

You purse your lips to hide the smile that slips on your face and he glares at you, probably thinking that you’re making fun of him.

“‘S not funny,” he huffs before reaching for a plate for himself.

“It's a little funny.”

“Shut up.”

—

You probably should have made your exit after breakfast, but in the moment of normalcy you forgot that you're kind of supposed to be freaking out about him; you don't think twice about staying. Now, you're sitting with him on his bed, helping him study. 

“I don't get it,” Felix whines, tilting his head back and exposing the long line of his neck. You try not to gape like an idiot, resisting the urge to reach up and run your fingers over his jaw and the phantom marks there. “Why are there so many different integrals?”

“Uh…” You pull your attention back to the textbook in front of you, trying to read through everything. It's probably important that you actually pay attention to this. And not the way he's chewing on his lip in concentration. Or the little freckle on the corner of his nose. That's not part of the exam material.

“And these equations,” Felix continues, pointing to the page. “They're the fucking same thing! What the fuck?”

Focus. “So,” you shake your head to clear it and laugh a little. “They're just different methods of approximation. These ones are rectangular, and this one's trapezoidal so…” you squint at the page. “They're similar but here you divide this part. See? And you multiply each inner term. So that depends on how many intervals you're using,” you explain. “Rectangles are simpler but trapezoids are more accurate? I think you need to know both though.”

He looks up at you with a grimace. “Yeah, okay. Thanks. I'm sure I'll remember all that perfectly during the exam.” He glances down at the notes with a sigh. He looks stressed. It doesn't help that he's probably also tired. That he's been up for hours. 

Because of you. 

You're suddenly hyper-aware that you're sitting on his bed, close enough to touch. You noticed he's been keeping a little more distance than usual, but you can still feel the warmth of his body next to you and it makes you antsy and distracted, trying to keep your focus on the notes spread out in front of you. At least it's something to look at other than him.

You clear your throat. “You'll have to memorize it, I guess.”

“So what you're saying is I should give up on calculus,” he says dryly. “I should give up on life.”

“That is literally not at all what I said.”

He groans and flops forward onto the bed, his head landing by your thigh and leaning against it. You freeze. He doesn’t say anything, just closes his eyes and sighs.

You swallow down the rush of heat that runs through your body, unsure of what to do when he’s basically using your leg as a pillow. Nothing out of the ordinary, except that you're pretty sure this is the first time you've touched for more than a split second since… last night.

You can feel his breath against your leg, his eyelashes fluttering faintly. He looks like he could fall asleep like this, head nuzzled into your leg. Like a cat, you think briefly, and you can’t help yourself when your fingers reach out, itching to push his hair out of his face — just testing if that's okay. 

You do it anyway, against your better judgment, slowly combing through the soft locks. He doesn’t really react, but his breath hitches ever so slightly. Your mind drifts off to the soft sound of his moan against your neck last night and you nearly choke on your own spit.

Oh my god. No, no, no, not real. It was absolutely a fever dream and there is no room for doubt, no matter how vividly the memory is playing in your mind right now. You were doing so well repressing it.

Felix's eyes suddenly fly open and he sits up abruptly. “Uh…” he starts, staring at you with wide eyes before his gaze drops to your hand still floating mid-air, hovering over where his head was.

“Sorry—” He scrambles back, clearing his throat, looking a little flushed in the face. He glances at you for a second before turning away, busying himself with tidying the notes spread across the bed. 

“Oh.” You try to keep your voice steady and let your hand fall. “For what?”

“For, um…” He shrugs, still not looking at you. “I dunno. I wasn't trying to, like, fall asleep on you or anything,” he mumbles.

He's nervous, you realize. The fact that he's so nervous makes you even more nervous and guilty. Are you making him uncomfortable? Is sitting this close to you hard for him now?

He looks back at you for a moment, and then his face scrunches up a bit. “I really— I can’t do this,” he mutters, voice wavering a little, looking at you with an almost pleading expression, and your heart sinks. You can’t tell if he means the studying or… something else.

Before you can fully panic at what the fuck he means — he probably knows, is he upset with you, does he maybe not want to be friends anymore—? He takes a deep breath and says your name quietly.

“Is everything… alright?”

What? What kind of question is that? You might have just stopped breathing. What does it mean to be alright anyway? That's pretty subjective, isn't it? This past week you've lost track of any sense of what normal feels like, and really, honestly, you never knew. You don't know anything. You’re trying to act like nothing happened, but it’s so hard. And clearly, you've been failing.

But that's all you want. For everything to be alright. “...What do you mean?”

“With you.” He finally drags his eyes up to look at you again. “With us. Everything… alright?”

Well, no. “Yeah,” you breathe. “Of course.”

The answer doesn’t seem to satisfy him. If anything, it makes him look more upset, his shoulders slouching forward and brows knitting together as he looks down at the space between you. “Are you sure?” he asks, in that same quiet tone, staring at you like he wants to say something else. You want him to say it, to keep asking, press you until you crack. You want him to force the truth out of you so badly it makes you feel sick.

But he doesn't. He doesn't push, not that you expected him to. Felix is never one to push you for anything you're not ready to give. It's something you love about him and you hate yourself for wanting him to now. It's not fair of you to expect so much of him, to want him to keep poking, try to pry you open, or read your mind.

He's still waiting for an answer. “Why do you ask…?” you whisper.

“Um,” he starts, touching his ear. “I guess… I mean— Recently, I feel like things have been a little… different? Uhh, weird? Maybe? I don't know. But—” he sighs. “I— You tell me. Am I making it up? I swear if you tell me I'm wrong, or an idiot, I'll shut up,” he laughs nervously.

“That's not it,” you say quickly, and swallow against the lump in your throat, guilt rising up like bile. Obviously, he’s right. Things are different. Things are weird. He knows it, you know it, and apparently both of you have been content to dance around the subject for days.

He stares at you like he’s waiting for more. You chew on your lip, struggling to find the right words to say. He’s being careful, tiptoeing around you like you’re going to run away at any moment. (You are.)

“I just… have a lot on my mind is all,” you murmur.

A beat. “Yeah,” he says, voice low. He’s watching your face closely. “What kind of things? Can you tell me?”

You can't even look at him for too long, terrified the floodgates might burst open if you do. You focus on the sheets bunched up in your fingers. “You know. Just…” Just that this is all my fault. Just that I stupidly caught feelings and caused this tension between us. I’m sorry. I really wish I didn't like you.

You're seconds away from sprinting.

He nods slowly when you don't elaborate. “Yeah… okay.” His voice is soft. He’s giving up. You don’t know if you like that or not. “Yeah. I get it.” He purses his lips.  “Sorry, I just— I… Can I ask one more thing? I just— It’s not about the, uh…” he points to his neck. “...practicing..? Or.. something… is it?”

You freeze, mouth hanging open. Oh, god. He’s seriously bringing that up? So directly? Now? “I—”

He’s looking at you, waiting for your response with an almost desperate look in his eyes. You can't believe he's actually talking about this now when you both had a mutual agreement to pretend that never happened. For days he acted like it never happened. It was his idea.

A few seconds of silence pass before he lets out a sigh and looks down, shoulders slumping heavily. “Bingo, huh? Yeah, that’s… that’s what I figured.”

“You… figured..?”

Felix sighs again and runs a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky laugh. “Yeah.” He still can’t seem to look at you. “That I screwed everything up.”

You feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach. “What?”

He turns back to look at you, rubbing his eyes, and lets out an unsteady breath. “I didn't mean to—” he says quickly. He looks frustrated with himself, face pinched in a frown as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Just,” he says quietly. “You can like... talk to me if you're upset about it.”

You stop breathing.

“I, like... I don't want you being uncomfortable around me just because… Can we just…” he sighs. “I know we said to forget about it but… not if you're upset. Please tell me if you're upset.”

Your head is swimming, heart racing at a pace that makes you lightheaded, his words spinning in your mind. He thinks you're upset. “I'm not…” you take a deep breath. “I’m not… upset.”

His eyes soften, but he still seems hesitant. “No? Really?” He exhales. “It was… a really dumb idea. I should've never suggested it. I'm sorry.” He chews on his lip. “And you've been so… like, I feel like you've been a little uncomfortable around me since. I-It's been eating me up a little, you know? I should've known better. I'm… really sorry.”

Your mouth opens and closes a few times in stunned silence. You're such an idiot. Of course he’s been worried about you. Of course he’s been blaming himself. Felix is genuinely distraught because he thinks you hate him or something, and you really don't know how to process that when it's the furthest thing from the truth. 

Felix looks pained as he sits next to you, waiting for you to say something. The anxiety is visible, written on every inch of him in the way he can’t look at you, in the way his hands are shaking. You just want it to stop.

He's blaming himself for this. Thinking that you're upset over—

“I-I’m not upset,” you finally manage to say. Your voice sounds weak, even to your own ears.

He gives you a dubious look, and you straighten up.

“I'm not upset,” you repeat more firmly. “In fact, I'd do it again,” you blurt out.

If you weren’t so frustrated—with him, with yourself, with everything—you might’ve been amused at the way his expression changes. If anything, he looks more confused, furrowing his brow and blinking at you wide-eyed like you just told him you're secretly a lizard.

“You— What?”

He’s looking at you like you've lost your mind. Maybe you have. You’re probably crazy for even entertaining the thought, but your mouth is still moving before you can even think to bite your tongue, the words tumbling out before your brain can catch up and ask you what the hell you think you're doing.

“I— I didn’t mind, um,” you stutter out, suddenly feeling flushed under his blank stare. You swallow, trying to keep your voice even while your heart is pounding so hard against your chest you’re sure it’s about to burst through. “I mean— I don’t— It wasn’t like, bad or anything…” 

His eyes go wider at your words and you can see the gears spinning in his head as he tries to figure out if you’re joking or not. You’re not. You’ve thought about it a lot, actually. A stupid amount.

He just keeps looking at you like he can't believe what he’s hearing. “What, are you—” he manages to croak out. “Are you serious? Um— You’re really—” He swallows thickly.

“I mean…" you stutter, face growing warmer with each passing second. “Yeah,” you try to act nonchalant. “I-I just mean… that I don’t mind.” You shrug. “I actually… kind of thought it was… nice?”

There. The words are out. Too late. Too honest. You almost immediately want to take them back— but you can’t. Surely that's a normal enough thing to say?

Apparently not. Felix’s tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he looks at you, a flicker of… something in his eyes that you can’t quite read. “That's—” he blinks. “You can’t just... say that.”

“Why not?” you shoot back. “It was… useful.” Wasn't that the whole point?

After several beats of torturous silence he finally lets out a loud exhale. “Are you messing with me.”

You roll your eyes, fighting the heat in your cheeks. “Why would I be messing with you?”

“What? Because—” He furrows his brow, struggling to get the words out. “You… you haven’t been acting… Uh— You’ve been, like, kinda weird. All week. You're really not upset?”

You look away. Of course you've been more distant, acting like a complete idiot because you caught feelings, so of course you inadvertently pushed him away. Well, he's been a bit weird too. But that's because he thought you were uncomfortable with him, you realize.

You're such a fool.

“No. I'd do it again,” you say again, hoping it comes across blasé and not desperate. 

Felix coughs. “Right. Okay, well— I don't… know if that's… a good idea.”

Obviously. But wait, is he actually… Considering it? Thinking about it? Oh god. You didn't realize how that sounded. You had meant it hypothetically, not as an offer but…

He's right. It can only end in disaster. But maybe… What better way is there to prove that you're not uncomfortable with him?

...There's definitely no other reason than that that leads you to look back at him and say something so deranged.

“...Please?”

Felix’s eyes widen comically and he’s clearly trying to form words, mouth opening and closing as he stares at you like you’ve grown a third head. “What— I—” His mouth clamps shut instantly, cheeks blooming a bright shade of pink and you have to fight down an onslaught of butterflies at the sight. 

He clears his throat. “Uh— uh, you want to?” he asks slowly, blinking at you like he’s not sure if you're real or a figment of his imagination.

“Um,” you clear your throat, trying to steady your voice. This is so fucked. What are you doing? “Yeah, I mean, I still think I'm… I need to practice more…?” 

“I-I don’t—” A startled laugh escapes him. “I don't think that you… do… Uh, you— you really want to, like— right now?” 

Jesus, he’s actually serious. You feel lightheaded, pulse pounding in your ears. You have a vague notion that you should probably backtrack, pull away, maybe laugh and tell him that you’re kidding. Just the thought of it makes you shiver—

“Um. Sure..?” you say instead, and mentally facepalm.

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. You follow it for a split second before darting your eyes up to look at his face. He looks flustered, his cheeks a deep shade of pink. It makes your stomach flip.

“I… this… seems like… maybe not a good idea,” he says, twisting the rings on his fingers. “But, I— Uhh, if you want…?”

This is insane. There's still time, you think, to make a break for it, but you can't manage to speak. You know it's a bad idea. You can't bring yourself to care. Not when he's been beating himself up over this and is clearly still not convinced you don't hate him. 

Felix slowly starts to move, shifting his weight until he's leaning against the headboard in front of you, the space between your knees only inches apart. He watches you closely, as if waiting for you to change your mind, and— Right. You kind of have to take the lead in this. A part of you desperately wishes the roles were reversed but you really can't think about that if you want to have any hope of making it out of this alive. You’re already on the verge of passing out as it is.

As you start to move closer to him a giggle slips from his lips and he clamps them shut instantly, cheeks flushed as you slowly scoot across the bed towards him. You pause, wondering if he’s maybe come to his senses, but then he bites his lip and shakes his head.

“Sorry, I-I’m— Uh, just—” he laughs again, high in his throat, looking a mix of nervous and incredulous.

You giggle a little hesitantly. “..What?”

“Oh my god. Sorry. It’s just—” he says, trying to hide his face. He peeks from behind his hands, grinning sheepishly. “You’re— This is so— I can’t believe you think you need more practice.”

“...Shut up.”

His soft laughter is cut short when you get even closer, your knees brushing his. For some reason, seeing him like this… flustered, nervous, almost shy… is suddenly making your head spin. You want him to feel at least a tiny fraction of the way you’ve been feeling these past few days.

When you’re finally settled in front of him, you take a moment to look at his face, watching as he wets his lips, tongue peeking out just enough to leave them shining. He clears his throat, the sound making you jolt out of your daze.

“Okay,” he starts, eyes darting around the room. “What— What did you… want to… practice?”

He sounds breathless, his face a pretty shade of pink. Your heart stutters in your chest, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. He looks so, so beautiful like this; flushed, hair messy, mouth parted, and you really just want to kiss him.

You blink hard, trying to tamp down that thought. “Um…”

His eyes flit back to you, and he swallows. You watch his Adam's apple bob in his throat and… Oh. Small, almost imperceptible patches of pink are scattered across his skin, blending with the blush creeping up his shirt collar. Hardly noticeable, but there nonetheless, especially to the one who inflicted them. 

You don't realize your fingers had begun tracing the skin until he lets out a shaky exhale, tilting his chin, baring his neck for you.

You pause, eyes jumping up to his face. He's watching you under half-lidded eyes, lips parted as your fingertips brush his skin.

“I—” he stutters, tongue darting out to lick his lips again. “You… really did a number on me, you know?”

You have half a mind to apologize but it's drowned under the rush of make them darker, make them last longer clouding your thoughts. You kind of want to mark him up forever. You're leaning in, you realize, breath ghosting his skin. “Can I…?”

He nods, swallowing thickly. “Yeah, please,” he breathes. “You don’t… you don’t have to ask. Do whatever you want to me.”

Whatever you want. That's… Hm. Wow. You can't even spare a thought on how crazy an offer that is before you're bringing your legs up to sit in his lap, any sense of decorum lost to you. You lean down, bracing yourself on his shoulders.

His hands hover momentarily by your waist before settling there, holding you in place as you make yourself comfortable in his lap. His breath stutters when your lips brush against his neck ever so slightly and his head falls back against the headboard with a soft thump. You hum, a thrill running through you at how sensitive he is as you repeat the action.

You press soft, open-mouthed kisses along the column of his neck, pausing to gently suck and pull, and he makes a noise, a low whine that makes your stomach do backflips. You pause, lips hovering above his skin. 

He's squirming a little underneath you, trying to get closer, to get you to press harder, but he keeps his place against the headboard, body taut with what you can tell is the effort to stay still. He swallows, eyes squeezing shut as he tilts his chin up even more, baring his neck again. “Please,” he whispers.

You're gonna die here, you think faintly. But for this it'll be worth it; you press a kiss beneath his jaw and he audibly sighs, head tilting back further as he grips your waist tighter. 

You slowly make your way to the other side of his neck, lips leaving a trail of kisses in your path, and his breathing starts to get faster and more erratic. He gasps when you bite the sensitive skin, feeling him arch up against you a little, and you gently kiss the red mark you’ve left behind. “Mmhh,” he says, eyes slipping shut, “God, you’re seriously already good at this…”

“Really...?” you ask, satisfaction and pride bubbling in your chest. You never could’ve imagined that having him practically under your control like this would feel so good, but the effect your actions have on him is literally dizzying. “I guess… I had a good teacher?”

He huffs out a laugh, rolling his head to the side as you start to work on a new spot. “You—” he lets out a shaky exhale that turns into a moan as you suck another mark just below his Adam’s apple. He’s gripping your waist firmly, fingers digging in hard enough that you wonder if you’ll have bruises in the shape of them later. “Mm— God, don’t— I’m— I’m sensitive there…”

You know. Still, you pull back, admiring the red mark left in your wake. Felix is a mess, breathless and flushed and staring up at you with dark, heavy-lidded eyes.

“Shit,” he says, voice uneven, “You’re so— so…” He trails off and the sight of him plus his voice… it's such an onslaught to your senses. You lean back into his neck if only to hide from his gaze and start pressing soft kisses to the skin again.

“Please,” he begs, voice quiet and rough, “God, please, please—”

You hum, the words going straight to your head— and other places which you’re trying not to think about. You have absolutely no idea what you're doing anymore but it just feels so good to hear how he reacts to every small touch, his soft whining, the way he keeps shifting as he tries to stay still, everything—

As you gently suck another mark into his neck, this time on the sweet spot just by his ear, he gasps and his legs twitch underneath you, a whine slipping from his throat. “Ah, ahhh, wait—”

There's no time to process anything before he lets out a small, frustrated sound, one hand going to your chin to gently guide you away from his neck. He's breathing heavily, a little dazed, with a pretty pink flush coating his cheeks and high on his ears. He's so stunning you completely forget you can't just stop and stare like this.

He whispers your name. “We, uh…” he breathes out, and just having him say your name in such a wrecked voice is enough to make you feel even more insane. “We should s-stop…”

You don't know what's gotten into you. You want to keep going.

His hand drops away from your chin, gripping your hip again instead. He tilts his head back further into the headboard, eyes shutting for a moment as he tries to steady his breathing. 

“I—” he begins through a sharp inhale, only to pause, swallowing visibly before he repeats himself. “W-We should really… stop.”

You nod mutely, trying to reign in your wild heartbeat as you reluctantly lean back a little. 

He slowly releases the tight grip on your waist, looking at you, mouth still slightly parted as his breaths start to even out. Neither of you say anything for a moment, but you can’t look away from each other. The air is so thick.

As you shift your weight in his lap, you become painfully aware of the fact that your body is pressed right up against his, your legs straddling his hips, your faces so close you can feel his ragged breaths against your lips. It’s impossible to think straight with him looking up at you like that, eyes blown wide and dark, face flushed, the prettiest pink staining across his cheeks and the tip of his ears, lips parted as he tries to regain his breath…

God, you really, really want to kiss him.

He swallows visibly as your faces are still mere inches apart and it takes a tremendous amount of self-restraint to not just lean in and press your lips onto his. You can’t imagine what he’s thinking or feeling right now, but the look he’s giving you and the way he’s still just—looking at you—makes your head spin.

He wets his lips and you might just drop dead. “This...” he starts, voice still a bit shaky, “Sorry. This was supposed to be you practicing… I… always get too…”

As he trails off, he lets out a small, unsteady laugh, looking up at you with a sort of sheepish smile—like he’s embarrassed. “…carried away. God, sorry. Um,” he swallows again, looking everywhere but you. “Are you alright—?”

His cheeks are still a pretty shade of pink, lips red and shiny from where he’s been biting them. The sight is not doing any favors for your sanity.

You feel so crazy. You can't take it anymore. 

“I lied.”

Clearly, that wasn't what he was expecting. He blinks at you, eyebrows drawing together. “...What?”

“I—” Oh god. Are you really doing this? “I… lied. This morning. I-I was, um,” you take a deep breath, “...awake last night.”

“You… were awake… last night?” he repeats slowly.

You nod. You might be on the brink of death. “Um, t-that's why I was maybe acting… extra weird? …Sorry.”

He’s staring, expression blank, before it seems to click. “Oh, god,” he groans, bringing a hand up to hide his face. “Oh— oh my god. I'm so, so sorry. You— I—”

He puts his hands back on your waist and tries to push you off of him, but you place your hands over his to halt his movements.

He goes still, eyes flicking up to meet yours, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt more dizzy in your life. You’re sitting on top of him, his hands are on your waist, he’s flushed red, looking so pretty, and you’re so gone that you can hardly feel embarrassed.

“No, wait, it's okay,” you say. “I'm… not uncomfortable with you. Or… this. That's what I'm trying to say.”

He lets out a harsh breath before shaking his head. “No no no, no way,” He pulls his hands free from under yours, as if burned, and runs them through his hair. “I'm— I'm, like, a fucking creep, I—”

“Oh my god, Felix, no,” you say in a rush, feeling like he’s slipping away with each passing second. “You’re not— Listen. I just…” 

How do you even say this? That it affected you more than it probably should have, that it’s been plaguing your mind all morning, that you’re more confused than ever.

“I’m not— uncomfortable,” you manage to get out, “I promise.”

He looks at you, guarded, searching your expression. “…You’re not,” he repeats, with a tinge of disbelief.

“No.” There’s an odd, strangled feeling in your chest as he studies your face, the air still so thick between the two of you. You’re suddenly very aware of the way you’re still sitting, straddling his hips and so close you can literally count the freckles around his eyes.

“...Promise?” He peeks up at you, hands slowly coming down from his hair. 

You nod. “Promise. Really.” 

He swallows thickly and moves his hands down to hold your hips again, almost like an unconscious action, like that's the most natural place for them to be.

“Then… then how are you feeling?” He studies your face carefully, eyes jumping from each of your eyes, down, and back up.

You can’t think coherently with his body pressed against yours, your mind is so muddled, and his voice—

“‘Cause, I— um, I feel…” A small, nervous, incredulous breath leaves his lips. “Are you… are you feeling…”

“I…” You're cool. You're vibing. Your brain is melting out of your ears. “I don’t know,” you say honestly. “I feel dizzy.”

“Dizzy,” he repeats, grip on your hips tightening a little. “Dizzy… good? Or… sick?”

He shifts, bringing you nearly flush against him, and your eyes flutter shut. That alone is enough to send you reeling into alternate dimensions.

“I… not sick,” you choke out.

“Yeah?” he says, low and quiet, eyes flicking all over your face. He blinks, swallowing. “That’s… that’s good.” 

You look down at him, taking in his face and the state of his neck. You did that… you did that… Suddenly all you can think of is how it felt under your lips just moments ago, of how he had felt, writhing, whining, begging—

Before you realize it, you're leaning forward again, as if possessed. Felix swallows and his hands grip onto you tighter, holding you steady on top of him. He’s staring up at you, tongue darting out to lick his lips, and your head is filled with static.

With a shaky breath, you tilt your head and bring your lips down to his neck. 

You can feel the way he shudders and his head falls back against the headboard again. “Are you sure…” he breathes, voice hitching as you leave another soft kiss by his collarbone. “Are you— ah—”

His hands slide up to your waist and back down to your hips, fingers digging in as you suck a bruising mark into his shoulder.

He groans, and your vision is literally swimming. You suck a little harder and his hands twitch where they’re holding you firmly, words coming out in a soft moan. “God, you’re— you’re really good a-at this, that's not fair—”

You hum against his skin and run your tongue over the reddening area. “You’re so sensitive,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him, and he lets out an embarrassed noise.

“Shut up,” he whines between gasps, but the words are undermined by the way he’s arching against you, tilting his head to the side to give you better access. “I’ve never— I don’t—”

You shift the slightest bit in his lap and his words are cut off in a soft gasp, eyes shutting for a split second before he’s looking back up at you. The look on his face makes you feel like you’re floating. “Mmm, I'm not… like this… usually… I—”

You want to say something, but the strangled sound from his lips when you reposition yourself on him again takes all coherent thoughts straight out of your mind. Felix’s fingers dig into your waist and you wonder if he’s trying to keep you still or pull you closer. 

You want him closer. You need him closer, and it’s that thought that prompts you to actually press your hips against his and he throws his head back against the headboard again, eyes shut and mouth dropped open as he lets out a low moan. He grabs onto you tighter, pulling you even closer until you’re pressed up against him from chest to hip to— oh.

His breath stutters as his eyes go wide. He swallows visibly before shifting under you again, and yeah, he’s definitely not unaffected.

“Oh,” he breathes quietly. He sounds so ruined and there’s no way you’d be able to stop now even if you wanted to. You press down against him again and he bucks up and lets out a long whine.

“Oh, god—” he gasps out, hands scrambling down to your hips. “W-Wait, I—”

It's a struggle to pull yourself back enough to focus properly. “S-Sorry.”

He looks at you, wild eyed, hair falling on his face, all flushed skin and parted lips, the marks you left on his neck and collarbone glaring at you.

“No,” he says, breathing hard, chest rising and falling against yours. “Don’t… don’t apologize, it's just… I…”

A small whine escapes you as you feel his grip on your hips tighten again, as if testing it. He exhales slowly, and the silence stretches so long you start to wonder if the moment’s over, if you should get off of him, when he speaks in a low, quiet voice.

“Are you… are you really okay with this?” he asks, his eyes meeting yours. His voice is unsteady, but his hands still have a firm grip on you. “I don't want to… ruin anything…”

“Ruin anything...?” What— your friendship? You can’t quite focus when he’s literally holding you on top of him, body hot to the touch, skin soft and so, so tempting. He's an idiot. You like him. You want him.

Felix makes a strangled sound as he pushes and pulls on your hips again, moving your weight over him, his head falling back against the headboard again. You feel light-headed.

“Sorry,” he gasps. “We can stop if… if you…”

You're an idiot. “N-No,” you breathe out quickly, absolutely reeling from having him move your body like that. “No, don't, I…” You’re not even sure you could stop.

Felix lets out a small whine, hands digging further into your hips, his eyes dark and hazy as he looks up at you through his eyelashes.

“Okay,” he breathes, the word sounding like it's been punched out of him. “Okay.”

He leans back and tugs on your hips, rolling his own up as he pulls you down against him. You gasp at the contact, the sudden spark of pleasure coursing through you, but you’re barely given a moment to even think before he’s doing it again, pulling you back down, and fuck.

“Felix,” you choke, and the only answer you get is a whine from him as he moves your body against his again. You’re so caught up that you don’t even realize you’re starting to move to meet him, and he lets out a strangled sound at the action.

“Is this… I-Is this good?” he manages to get out, face screwing up slightly as you press down against him again.

You hum, leaning further into him to hide your burning face and you start to mouth at his neck again because… well, why not? It's familiar at this point and you're well past the point of trying to rationalize your actions. If you don't get your mouth on his skin you may just pass away.

You bite down and he lets out a long, low moan, his head drops back against the headboard again, eyes fluttering shut. “Oh,” he gasps, “Yeah, that— god, shit—”

When your body presses down a little against him again, he nearly chokes. You pull back, eyes instantly tracking the movement of his tongue wetting his lips and you go a little cross-eyed.

“F-Fuck,” he whispers hoarsely, “I don’t think… uhh..” his hands on your waist slide down to your hips, holding them tightly as he gently rocks against you. “I don’t—” he whimpers again, fingers digging into your hips, “I don’t think I can… take much more…”

There are words lodged somewhere in your throat, and you don’t know how to express how bad you want him even if you could.

He looks up at you, eyes dark and heavy, and you think maybe he gets the message anyway.

Before you can say a word, he's pushing you backwards onto the bed. You gasp as you land on your back and he crawls on top of you, leaning down and trapping you with his arms on either side of your head. Looming over you with dilated eyes.

For a second he just stares, not touching you anywhere but still caging you in with his body, and then your brain finally catches up to the position you’re in and—

“Oh my god,” you squeak. “Felix—”

He blinks at you, flushed and panting, his breath brushing against your face. In the sudden change of position, he accidentally presses his knee in between your legs and you let out a gasp and squeeze your thighs together instinctively.

“Oh,” he breathes, looking at you with wide eyes, and you don't know if it's your imagination or if his eyes really do dart down for the briefest second. “Sorry. Was that… bad? Are you uncomfortable?” His blush is dark, spread down his neck.

You swallow, mind blanking on anything to say. He moves his thigh further between your legs, just a bit, and that’s definitely not helping.

His gaze drifts down, down again, and he blinks slowly, like he’s not sure he’s seeing things correctly.

“Um… you’re shaking,” he whispers, eyes flickering back up to your face. “Are you… Are you okay?”

“I—” you choke out. “Yeah. I’m fine. I swear, I’m just—”

He shifts over you again, and you feel his leg press in ever so slightly between yours, and this time you let out probably the most embarrassing sound possible.

If he’s trying to kill you, it’s working.

Felix’s eyes go wide. Slowly, in an almost tortuous way, he pushes down against you again. 

“Ah—”  you gasp again, before pressing your lips tightly together to prevent yourself from humiliating yourself any further. His eyes are dark, watching your expression closely, and you bring your hands up to cover your face for good measure.

He smiles a little. He looks absolutely delighted.

You have the faint urge to hit him but then he's grabbing your wrists and gently moving them off of your face before his head dips down to your neck, breathing hot against your skin, lips hovering just above your jawline before he starts leaving small kisses all over your skin, slowly moving to your pulse point and sucking a light bruise below it.

What the fuck. What the fuckk. You're suddenly apologetic of how you teased Felix because you're pretty sure you're just as sensitive as he is. It's nothing like your arm.

Your gasp turns into a choked whine as he grinds down on you, his lips trailing up until he’s nuzzling your earlobe and he lets out a moan near your ear, the sound going straight to your gut. He drags his mouth back down, teeth scraping your sensitive skin on their way down your neck.

“Why am I the only one getting marked up, hm?” he asks, mouth trailing your collarbone before sucking again. It makes you whine, your wrists straining against his grip on you as his body keeps you locked in place. You try to raise your hips up instinctively (which is really embarrassing), but his weight on you makes it impossible to move.

He groans at your squirming and pulls away, mouth hovering over your skin. “T-Too much?” 

You shake your head, holy shit you're actually going to die if he stops now. 

He lets out a breath and moves down again, leaving a trail of kisses as he reaches the space between your neck and shoulder. “You have no idea,” he says, voice low and strained. “How much I’ve… I’ve wanted…”

“What? Wanted what?” you ask, breath hitching as he sucks another mark near your collarbone, just above the neckline of your shirt.

He stays there for a moment longer before pulling back and blowing on the spot, making a chill run down your spine. “Wanted— Mmm, do you even know— how good you look… wearing my…” His eyes go a little hazy as he wets his lips with his tongue.

Your eyes widen as you realize that, yeah, you're still dressed in his sleep clothes. “Oh.”

He pulls back for a second, eyes roaming over you. “It's… not fair.”

Your breath stutters as he reaches out and hooks a thumb under the collar of your — his — shirt, pulling it down and exposing more of your shoulder. His eyes roam over the bared skin before he's leaning back down, mouthing at the space under your collarbone and sucking an angry red mark onto the skin.

You whine, arching up against him, and the movement grinds your hips up against him. The sensation makes you both gasp, and he drops his head down, his forehead resting on your shoulder.

“F-Fuck,” he whines. You feel him move up to your face, his nose bumping against yours. He’s searching for something in your expression as he slowly lets go of your wrists, his fingers lightly running up your arms, mapping the contours of your face. His breath fans lightly over your lips, the air between your faces getting shorter as he leans closer and oh god, this is it, this is it, this is it—

"Do you, uh…” he starts, “Maybe… need practice kissing too..?"

“What?” You blink, mind slow to comprehend what he’s asking when his lips are so close to yours and he shouldn't be talking right now, what the fuck? And then it registers. "I-I've kissed people before, Felix," you sputter in a burst of concern for your dignity.

“Yeah, but…” he whimpers. “I… Can I…?”

You kind of want to laugh. “...For science?”

“Yeah. Yeah, for science, please can I—” 

You’re not waiting for him to finish his sentence before you're grabbing his shoulders and pulling his head down to yours.

He lets out a shuddery sigh and then he’s finally, finally kissing you. It’s soft and almost chaste, completely different from the way he was biting and kissing your neck just seconds ago, but fireworks explode behind your eyes all the same.

His lips are soft, and he tastes so sweet, like maple syrup. His tongue licks your bottom lip, and you open your mouth, a small gasp slipping from you. He takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth, and then he’s really kissing you, tongue curling around yours. You moan, eyes fluttering closed, body lighting up, your entire world reduced to the points where your bodies touch.

This can't be real. Because if it feels like this when it's just practice you can't imagine how it must feel when it's real. Even if you've kissed people before, it was hardly like this. If Felix notices your fumbling, he doesn't say anything, just sighs against your mouth, tilting your head up and kissing you deeper than you thought was possible. 

Your hands slide up from his shoulders to tangle in his hair, and he responds by kissing you harder, deeper. You’re so busy focusing on the way he’s trying to deepen the kiss that you barely register his thigh slipping higher between yours, starting to move again.

“O-Oh—” you let out against his mouth, hips lifting up against him instinctively and he whines — a high-pitched, needy sound against your lips.

He pulls away, breath coming in short gasps and his head drops down on your shoulder. For a moment you can only hear the sound of ragged breathing as his heart beats against you, his hands still roaming your sides, tracing every contour of your body.

“Shit,” he breathes into your shoulder. “You’re so… how…” and whatever thought he was having is cut off by the sound he lets out when you squirm a little and his body presses further against you.

“Careful,” he chokes out, “Careful, careful, please, oh my god—”

Despite his words, he keeps moving against you, the friction both too good and not enough. You're dizzy with how good it feels and you gasp when his mouth finds your neck again. 

Your hands are back in his hair, clinging to him, needing to grab onto something. “Felix,” you all but whine.

He groans against your neck, moving his head up to your cheek, before his lips find yours again. His grip tightens as he presses you further into the mattress, a whine escaping you as he nips at your bottom lip.

“Please,” he whispers against your mouth, a breath more than a word. “Please, I…” He kisses you again, licking into your mouth and groaning against your lips, “Please…”

You're not sure what he's asking for, but you'd give him everything if you could. You pull him closer with a tug on his hair, your bodies flush against each other, and even through the layers of clothes you can feel everything.

“Ah—” he whines, and his hips stutter against yours. “P-Please,” he repeats breathlessly as he presses his face back into your neck and his hands dig into your sides. “Please, you keep— making these sounds and looking like—” he gasps as his hips brush against you and he almost loses his train of thought. “And I don’t— I don’t think I can— last much longer…”

TV static. You're probably flatlining. “O-Oh my god,” you mumble, reeling at the thought of getting to see your best friend fall apart on top of you, that he’s actually on the verge of unraveling just from being with you like this; and then his mouth is back on yours, tongue sliding against yours.

“Felix,” you gasp against his mouth, “Felix—” your words break on a whine as his hips grind against you. He lets out a broken moan, like just the sound of his name on your lips is enough to do him in.

He’s shaking now, not so much kissing you as panting against your mouth. Not that you're faring any better. You feel so overwhelmed you think you’re going to cry, or break, or both; the feeling of his thigh against you and his chest pressed so closely to yours, it’s all too much. As he moans softly, the sound slowly rising in pitch, you feel something in your gut pull tighter and— Oh. Oh.

Everything goes white. For a moment, all you know is Felix: his body on yours, his skin under your hands, his scent, his sounds, his taste still on your tongue— all of him, and it’s all-encompassing. It's all so sudden and violent that all you can do is gasp and cling to him.

Once the feeling subsides you try to gather yourself, you open your eyes just enough to see Felix staring down at you, his pupils blown so wide they almost completely cover his irises.

“Fuck…” he breathes, sounding almost awed. “Did you— Did you just—” 

You're too enervated as you try to look at him, you swear you’re seeing double. He’s still breathing hard, his hands gripping you tightly against him. His mouth opens to say something else, but it’s quickly interrupted by a groan as his hips roll against you, like he can't help it, and he buries his face into your neck instead.

“Oh my god—” he moans into your skin. Suddenly his breath hitches and his hips press into your thigh more insistently. He lets out a needy whine, his words barely distinguishable. “F-Fuuuck, oh fuck—”

You feel the way his body jerks and trembles against you, breath coming in short pants that turn into pretty, high-pitched sounds — probably the prettiest sounds you've ever heard in your whole damn life — his breath hot on your neck, clinging to you, and oh, he’s shaking.

The moment seems to stretch on forever. Time literally slows with him shuddering on top of you until he finally collapses, burying his face in your shoulder.

Slowly, reality starts to sink in, your body becoming more aware of his body almost crushing you and his hands tracing idle patterns on your skin. Your mind gradually clears enough that your brain catches up to the situation you're in, and suddenly the room is so hot, every point of contact with Felix absolutely blistering.

That was so intense. And he wasn't even actually touching you. Holy shit. Fuck.

For a moment you’re both just left trying to catch your breath, until he slowly lifts his head, gazing down at you. He's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky and it makes you feel so hot.

He blinks down at you for a second and seems to freeze. After a second he breathes, “Um… you look hot,” before his cheeks instantly turn an even deeper pink. “I mean, like.. uh… you look like you’re heated up or something... Like, your face is flushed. It’s— I mean—” he laughs awkwardly, stumbling over all his words.

Well. Sure. It's probably like two billion degrees in here, you think, and it’s really not helping that he’s still lying on top of you, his weight pinning you down.

“Um…” You're still so fuzzy and out of it. “You’re crushing me,” you state dumbly.

His reaction is immediate, moving to shift his weight off you. “Oh, s-sorry, I… sorry—”

No, wait, now you're cold. You reach out to stop him before he gets too far.

A tiny smile quirks on the corner of his lips as he notices you trying to hold onto him. With a breathless laugh he settles back over you, propping himself up on his forearms. “Better?”

How is he real. “Mhm.”

He’s so close, his face is so close to yours, and you realize you have made a grave error in keeping him on top of you. He’s always had an effect on you, but he’s never looked so mesmerizing as he does now with his messy hair and red cheeks, looking like he’s itching to reach out and touch you. It feels a bit like staring directly at the sun. Captivating, and dangerous.

“You, um…” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “Are you okay..?”

You blink. Okay doesn't quite cover it. You might have literally just witnessed the fifth dimension. You settle on a nod.

Felix nods too, a quick jerky movement, still watching you closely, with something akin to awe. You’re not sure what to make of it, or what to say, you just try to hold onto the moment for as long as possible.

He swallows, his eyes searching your face. Then his gaze drops down, and you realize that for the first time he left marks on you. And if you look anything like he does right now — Oh no.

Your eyes widen, hand flying up on its own accord, touching your neck, the skin tender and tingly.

“O-Oh,” he says, sucking in a small breath through his teeth as your fingers trace your neck. “I… Sorry. I didn't— uh…” His eyes dart between your neck and your face. “Did— Does it hurt?”

“Umm…” You’re not sure how to explain that yeah, it kinda hurts, but you also think it's extremely hot and you kind of really want him to do it again. 

A beat of silence stretches out while he waits for your answer, and you can see the anxiety building on his face. His eyes dart to your neck, to your face, and the longer you stay quiet the more worried he looks.

“I didn’t mean to,” he finally manages to say. “I’m sorry, I should’ve… asked, or…”

He looks so nervous, like he’s absolutely terrified that you’re going to be angry at him for leaving marks on you that you almost want to laugh. It’s endearing. He’s so cute and hot and perfect.

You do laugh, in spite of yourself, a small giggle bubbling from your throat. You immediately catch yourself and school your expression but it's too late. He looks at you a bit wildly. 

“What—? What’s funny?” he pouts, his voice coming out even higher-pitched than usual.

You bite your lip. “Nothing.”

His face gets so pink it’s practically glowing. “What,” he whines, lower lip pushed out in a proper pout now.

Another laugh bubbles out of you — you can’t help it when he’s being so cute. “Sorry,” you purse your lips. “I'm fine. I don't mind.”

His eyes go wide as he realizes that you’re not mad at him, and he lets out a long, shaky breath, shoulders dropping. 

“I swear to god,” he huffs, and he sounds so genuinely huffy and upset over the fact that you’re laughing at him that you can’t even stop yourself from giggling again.

“Do you think this is funny?” he grumbles, shifting his weight a bit over you. “You’re so rude. That was, like… payback, you know. Now we're even. Actually…”

He suddenly dips his head down, lips ghosting over the skin of your neck. “Don’t,” you laugh, squirming under him. “It tickles!”

“Good,” he grins against your skin. “That's what you get for laughing at me.”

He moves down, licking a hot stripe across your collarbone. “Oh my god, stop—” 

“No,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss right where your pulse is fluttering under your skin. “You’re rude and I’m not done yet, so stay still.”

“Felix—”

His mouth is warm and he’s pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses on every part of your skin he can reach. He sucks and tugs, his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin and you let out a gasp. You try to wriggle out from under him but he’s holding you down, his body flush against yours and his arms caging you in. “Fu-uck, Felix..!”

"Stay. Still,” he huffs, nipping gently at the skin. You shiver and he lets out a soft breath, a shudder of a laugh against your skin. He moves again, his lips working their way down your neck and you give in and close your eyes.

He’s being gentle now, you can barely feel his lips as they brush your skin. But then he suddenly sucks softly at the dip between your collarbone and you can’t help the little sound that escapes you.

You feel him grin against your skin. “There. Now we're even.” he says smugly, pulling away.

You blink your eyes open blearily. Payback, huh? Okay. You guess you probably deserved that. 

Still. “You’re such a dick,” you mutter.

His eyes are wide and full of faux innocence as he looks down at you, looking awfully pleased with himself. He grins proudly, and you can see little marks on his neck, too, red and angry-looking and…

Felix's expression changes as he looks down at you, the smugness slowly fading to be replaced with something softer. He’s quiet as he gazes down at you, taking in every detail of your face, his eyes roaming every inch. It feels like he’s trying to sear the image into his memory.

His hand comes up to brush some of your hair out of your face, fingertips gently tracing your features. His gaze is intense, his fingers are gentle, and suddenly it’s hard to think straight.

He swallows and you can see him struggling with himself, like he’s struggling to say something.

“Um…”

He takes a careful breath as his eyes wander over your face, taking all of you in. His gaze lands on your mouth and stays there, watching intently, his tongue slowly swiping across his bottom lip.

“We… I mean— you didn't, like, really actually need practice kissing right, or was that like—? Like actually science..?”

“What?”

His gaze darts back up to your eyes, cheeks tinged with pink. “What?” he parrots, voice slightly higher pitched than usual.

What the hell is he asking? Of course you didn’t need practice. Right? You’re pretty sure you know how to kiss already. At least, you think so. God, what if you’re not even a decent kisser and he was too nice to tell you.

“Felix,” you say slowly, figuring it's best to be direct. “What the hell are you talking about?”

His cheeks are already burning, you can see the redness spreading from his face to his neck and down his chest. “I don’t know,” he stammers, looking away. “I was just… wondering. If it was just for fun or if it… like…”

He’s still not looking at you, and you’re so confused. “What…?” you repeat.

“Um, well,” he mumbles, somehow blushing even further. “I was… uh, wondering…” He finally glances at you. “Like… you know… if it meant something—” He freezes mid sentence and closes his eyes, like he’s bracing for impact.

…Of course it meant something. It was everything. But Felix— he’d never feel that way about you. He couldn’t. He already told you he doesn't.

Just for fun? You kind of want to laugh and cry and take his stupid face in your hands and shake some sense into him. What is he even trying to say?

You're too busy having a mental breakdown and Felix finally meets your gaze again, biting his lip. “Forget I said that,” he sighs. “I’m an idiot, just ignore me, please.”

After a silent moment of staring at each other, he awkwardly clears his throat, sitting up on his elbows and pulling back slightly.

“It doesn’t matter,” he blurts, his cheeks flushed and eyes avoiding yours. “Nevermind! We, uhhh, should I move? I should move.” You can feel the way he’s shivering slightly, his voice trembling from the exertion.

He pulls back, shifting to get up, but you grab his arm, holding him in place. “Felix,” you rasp out, not even sure what you want to say but knowing you have to say something.

He freezes, staring at the way you’re gripping his arm, eyes still refusing to meet yours. His shoulders are tensed, tight like a coiled spring.

For a minute the only sounds in the room are your uneven breaths, the words hanging in the air between you. Then his voice breaks the silence, barely a mumble. “Just forget I said anything,” and then he's pulling his arm out of your grasp and moving to get off the bed.

No, no, no no no. Without letting yourself think too much you grab his wrist, pulling him back down to you. He lands on top of you with a startled gasp. “What—”

“Felix—” You don’t know what else to say. Your head is still fuzzy and your body is still buzzing and the only thing you can think about is him but words are not forming.

He swallows. “Y-Yeah?” he says, breathless.

Your hands are shaking and you shove them into his hair, pulling his head down until your foreheads collide only a little painfully.

“Mmph— hey—” he starts, but the word is swallowed up by a groan when you tighten your fingers in his hair. Your head is still spinning but finally, finally, finally your mind comes up with words that aren't just his name.

“You're an idiot.” Good start. “It wasn't just for fun. Are you seriously— Science? I thought that was just— Like, what the hell does that even mean—” you sputter.

His eyes are so wide, the brown of them almost completely swallowed by his pupils.  “It wasn't…?”

“You moron,” you groan. “I actually hate you so much.”

He laughs, breathless and shaky. “You hate me?” he asks, a slight whine to his voice.

“Yes,” you mutter. “Please tell me what the fuck kind of science you think I was trying to do.”

His chest is heaving, heart hammering against your own. “I-I don’t know,” he stutters, looking so adorably dazed you want to laugh. “Don’t— don’t look at me like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” he says, cheeks burning. “Your face is really close to mine right now, and— I’m trying—”

“Trying…?” you whisper, eyes flicking to his mouth. Why are his lips so pretty. You just want to pull him down and kiss him and kiss him and—

He licks his lips. “Trying…” Then he groans, “Ugh, shut up. I'm embarrassed.”

You breathe out a laugh and he pouts at you. “Stop,” he whines. “I'm, uh…” he says, blinking. “We… need to shower. Or something.”

Your face heats up. “What?”

“Shower,” he repeats in a strangled voice. “Like— oh, oh my god, like separately. Not— not together, obviously.” His cheeks are already turning a deeper shade of red, and you have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing.

“I know that,” you whisper.

“Good. Yeah,” he mumbles. “Because it would be really weird if we—” He cuts himself off, biting his lip. “Anyway,” he says loudly. “I’m getting up now.”

He slowly pushes himself up into a seated position. He’s blushing so bad, his face so red you can practically feel the heat emanating from his skin, and still staring at you, blinking like he can’t quite believe what just happened. After a long moment he seems to shake himself out of the daze and blinks again. “So, um. I’m just— You can go first if you want.”

“Yeah.” You’re still a little dizzy but you manage to sit up. “Sure.”

“Cool,” he says eloquently before scrambling off the bed and turning to rummage through a few drawers.

After a moment he seems to find what he’s looking for and turns back, holding out a stack of clothes to you.

“Here. This will, um. Probably fit.”

You mutter a thanks, sliding off the bed and taking the clothes he’s holding out for you. “Um… I’ll be quick,” you say lamely, and he nods, almost a robotic jerk of his head.

You stumble to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you and taking a moment to collect yourself.

It takes everything in you not to scream when you glance in the mirror — You look crazy. Even in the dim bathroom lighting it’s obvious. You let out a quiet exhale, pressing your fingers against the marks and wincing at the twinge of pain.

Well… you suppose that's fair payback. Still, you're not sure if that's really all it was. You kind of feel like an idiot because what if the moment has passed now and it's too late to bring it up and, like, actually talk about it and Felix tries going back to being normal friends again.

He wouldn't do that. Right?

You're not any more sure of what to do when you step out of the bathroom ten minutes later, but at least you feel refreshed.

Felix is sitting on the edge of the bed when you reenter his room, staring at his phone with a funny expression. His head jerks up at the sound of the door opening and he shoves his phone away, sitting up straight.

He all but bolts off the bed when you step into the room, standing up so fast you would've missed it in a blink. He’s blushing furiously, face so red it’s almost concerning.

“You’re… done,” he says after a moment. “Right.”

He’s fidgeting with the collar of his shirt, avoiding your gaze. You blink at him, but he’s pointedly not looking at you. “Uh, yeah.”

“Cool,” he responds, his voice high and stilted. You give him a skeptical look and he finally glances at your face, swallowing when he sees you looking at him.

His expression makes your heart sink slightly; a part of you has already begun to feel resigned, wondering if he’s going to tell you it was actually just a mistake and you should forget about it. The thought makes your insides twist uncomfortably.

“I, uh. I guess I’ll…” he starts, his eyes darting around the room. “Uhh, you should check your phone? Or don't. Actually, maybe don't.”

“...What?”

“Just… nothing,” he says unconvincingly. “Just check your phone. I mean— It’s not important, it’s fine.”

“Okay…?” you say, starting to reach for your phone.

Felix looks vaguely panicked. “Wait, not now, uhh—” 

His strange behavior would be funny if you weren’t just so confused. “What are you being so weird for?”

He opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. “I’m not— I’m not being weird,” he protests, even as his ears keep turning redder. “I’m fine, just— check your phone when I'm not here!”

“Felix.” You give him a dubious look, even as he’s practically vibrating with how badly he's pretending to be casual. “What did you do.”

His eyes go wide. “What? Nothing! I didn’t do anything.” He stands there for a moment, swaying slightly, looking so flustered that you can’t help but laugh a little at the absurdity of the situation. He catches your expression and splutters indignantly. “Don’t laugh!”

With a huff he turns on his heel and practically flees into the bathroom, leaving you standing in the middle of the room, completely dumbfounded. What the hell.

After a moment of just standing there and staring at the floor hopelessly, you finally give up and collapse into the bed.

He’s being so weird. You just don’t know what to make of all of this. Was it just a mistake or… Did he mean it? Do friends seriously… do that kind of stuff? And stay friends?

You’re tempted to not check your phone, just to spite him, but after a few minutes of stewing in your thoughts you can’t wait it out. You get up and grab your phone from the desk, your heart picking up when you see an alarming number of notifications.

Most of them are messages Felix must have sent after you left to shower. You click into the chat hesitantly.

You have to admit it’s a little cute.

It makes you want to walk over to the bathroom and let him know he’s being an idiot, but you manage to resist the urge and keep reading.

You’ve been biting down your lip to keep from laughing as you read through the messages, and you have to cover your mouth to muffle a laugh as you get to the end. He’s such an idiot. And he’s cute as hell.

Seriously, are you dreaming? Did he mean it? It kind of sounds like he means it. He likes you? He’s panicking for nothing, really, you feel the same way, but it’s endearing how hard he’s trying to be chill while still obviously desperate for an answer. 

Before you get the chance to pinch yourself you hear the shower shutting off and your heart rate skyrockets.

You immediately drop the phone, covering your face with your hands. He's about to walk out of the bathroom any second now and you’re going to have to actually talk to him, and you don’t know how.

Sure, you want to talk to him, but the thought kind of also makes you want to throw up. You're only, like, eighty percent sure he wasn't joking. That's not enough.

There’s a moment of silence as you wait, wondering if it would be better to just turn your phone off and pretend it was dead so you couldn't read the messages. But before you can decide, the door creaks open and Felix reappears, hair damp.

He opens his mouth, closes it, shuffles his feet, opens his mouth again. “I, uh—”

You can’t help it — even though you’re nervous as hell too, the way he’s standing there looking like he’s in some sort of crisis is too adorable. You should probably put him out of his misery, but you’re also kind of enjoying seeing him like this. Just a little.

“You good?” you ask, trying to sound nonchalant.

“...Huh?”

“You’re looking a little stressed.”

“I’m totally fine,” he protests hotly, but his voice cracks just a little. He looks away, ears turning pink, and he clears his throat before making his way over to the bed.

He plops down on the edge of the bed next to you and stares at the floor, tense.

It’s strange to see him looking so nervous, knowing he is the confident one, the one who initiated this, started this whole thing — and now he’s staring at the floor like he’s bracing for a blow.

You feel a little bad, but the look on his face is too cute, and you’re too overwhelmed by the realization that he must really do like you. What the fuck? At least, he's acting incredibly suspicious.

For a long moment the two of you just sit there. You feel like you might wake up from a dream at any second, while Felix seems to be struggling to say something, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, his hands fisted in the comforter.

And you have to admit that this situation is kind of hilarious, because never in a million years would you have guessed that Felix would be the one to act like this out of the two of you. 

Finally, you can’t hold it in anymore and you struggle to stifle a laugh. 

He shoots you a betrayed look, clearly offended that you’re laughing at his distress. “Why are you laughing?”

You keep trying to hold back your amusement, but your attempts fail and you keep having to cover your mouth to stifle your giggling. Felix looks increasingly more outraged that you’re laughing at his plight, his face turning a deeper and deeper shade of red as he stares at you.

“This is not funny,” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It kind of is,” you say, hiding your mouth with one hand. “You were being so cool before, what happened?”

“Shut up. I'm still cool,” he protests, puffing his cheeks out and turning away, refusing to look at you. “You’re making fun of me.”

“Nooo,” you insist, holding back another laugh. “I’m not.”

“Oh my god,” he mutters, almost to himself. “I’m actually going to die right now. I’m going to die.”

“You’re not going to die,” you say, feeling a little bad seeing the look of defeat on his face. “Calm down.”

“I am calm,” he grumbles, even though he clearly isn't. He glances at you and quickly looks away again, his cheeks flushed. “You’re making it worse.” 

“Sorry,” you say softly, putting your hand on his arm. “I'm not trying to make fun of you.”

“Liar,” he mutters, but he doesn’t shake your hand off. After a moment he seems to untense slightly, and he lets out a shaky sigh.

He finally looks at you and swallows, his eyes flickering across your face. “So… um.”

His eyes keep darting away and then back to your face again, like he wants to look at you but is afraid of getting caught staring. It’s kind of adorable to see him looking so self-conscious.

“Are we gonna talk about this?” he asks, forcing out the words.

“About… what?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Uh… yeah. Um…” 

Now that it's come down to it, your heart is racing again. He keeps looking at you, then away, then back again. Each time his gaze is on you, you get a glimpse of his expression and it makes your breath catch in your throat. 

There's nothing to worry about. He said he likes you. Yeah, hypothetically. No one ever means that literally. And look at how he's acting. But he didn't say outright that he likes you. You don't know what to do.

You clear your throat. “Is… there much to say? You already said a lot. Really spammed my phone.”

He flushes more and makes a strangled sound somewhere between a whine and a laugh, his hands going to his face.

“Sorry,” he mutters through his fingers. “I was freaking out.” He lowers his hands just enough to peer at you. “I didn’t... I didn’t say anything super embarrassing, did I?”

“It was funny,” you tell him. “You were being really stupid.”

He lifts his head enough to glare at you. “Thanks.”

“No, but like— in a cute way,” you add quickly, watching as his expression shifts.

“I wasn’t being cute,” he mutters, though he seems a little less embarrassed.

“No, I’d say you were being cute.”

He’s definitely still blushing, avoiding eye contact. “I was not,” he says, petulant.

Then you decide, fuck it, and lean over real quick, watching his eyes widen before you press a quick kiss on his cheek, right by the corner of his mouth.

He gasps immediately when your lips brush his skin, his blush immediately worsens and you watch it spread down his neck. He makes an indignant sound, his hand flying to his cheek where you had kissed him, and he looks at you in shock.

“S-See?” you stutter, turning your head away quickly to hide your own warm cheeks. “Um… cute.”

A moment passes as he just gawks at you, his face still bright red. His hand is still on his cheek, his mouth open in bewilderment.

And then his brain seems to restart, and he lets out a huff, finally dropping his hand. “Damn,” he mutters. “Damn…”

He’s still blushing furiously, and every time he looks at you, his eyes get all wide. You giggle a little and he shoots you a withering glare. 

“You’re being mean,” he whines. “This is cruel. I’m going to die and you're laughing at me.”

You bite your tongue. “Sorry.”

He glares at you again, though it's lost any real heat, before he relents and drags a hand over his face with a groan. He sits there for a moment longer, staring at the wall like he’s trying to make sense of everything. “So…” he says slowly. “Does that… what does that mean?”

There's a certain weight to the question. You take a moment to collect yourself. You feel lightheaded, your heart beating so loud you wonder if he can hear it.

“What do you mean?” you ask, trying to keep your tone casual.

He turns to look at you, still red in the face. “You just kissed me,” he points out. “What does that mean?”

You try to keep your expression carefully neutral, but you can feel your own cheeks heating up just as intensely. “I mean,” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t sound as nervous as you feel. “I guess… theoretically… it would mean… I, um… like you..?”

He freezes, just staring at you for a long moment with wide eyes. “You…”

He seems to be making an effort to look casual, but his body language betrays him, his arms crossed over his chest, his foot tapping against the floor anxiously.

His eyes roam around, seeming to look everywhere but at you, before finally landing on your face again. “Theoretically… you like me?” he repeats after a moment, his voice still sounding faintly disbelieving.

The way he’s looking at you, it’s almost too much. You’re so flustered you can barely see straight, and you feel like your heart is going to beat right out of your chest.

“I guess...” you say, trying to keep your tone light even though you're pretty sure you're shaking. “...Yeah?”

He’s speechless, staring at you in shocked silence for what seems like a very long time. His mouth is opening and closing in a manner that would be funny if you weren’t completely freaking out yourself.

It takes a minute for him to react, blinking rapidly. “You…” he repeats, but it comes out breathless, like he’s still in shock. “You like me? Like, as in…”

His voice is so disbelieving that you’re starting to second guess yourself. “I… hypothetically,” you mutter, feeling silly for still using that as a crutch. 

“Hypothetically,” he echoes. His lips curl into a tentative smile. “You’re not… joking?” he asks carefully. “This isn’t some kind of… I don’t know. You’re not messing around?”

“Did you mean everything you said?” you ask, feeling a pang of uncertainty. 

He looks startled to be put on the spot, and he stutters for a moment before responding. “Yes. I— Of course,” he says earnestly. “I was just afraid you wouldn't…”

He trails off, eyes darting away from you for a moment before focusing back on your face. He takes a breath and his lips turn up in a bashful smile. 

"So… what does this mean?" he asks, shifting to face you fully. His eyes search yours for an answer, a hopeful look in them.

“Are we…” you swallow, feeling nauseous and giddy all at once. “Should we be, like… dating… theoretically?”

Felix looks incredibly flustered as he stares back at you, looking absolutely bewildered, like the thought had never even crossed his mind until this moment.

“Dating…” he mumbles incredulously. “Dating… holy shit… You… you want to…?” he asks haltingly, his eyes fixed on yours. 

His reaction makes you feel a little self conscious, wondering if somehow you’ve misread the situation entirely. You bite your cheek. “Maybe?” you say faintly. 

You can almost see his mind spinning, processing this sudden development. He seems completely dumbfounded, blinking rapidly like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

After what seems like an eternity of stunned silence, he finally finds his voice again. “Like… for real?”

“I mean…” you say awkwardly, feeling very exposed right now. “I… yeah? If you want…? It makes sense, right? Theoretically?”

He lets out a breath, his eyes wide. “I... Yeah. That makes sense. Uh, I…” He's still staring at you like he can’t quite believe you're actually real. “Am I dreaming?” His expression is so earnest, like he’s afraid you might vanish at any second.

You huff out a laugh. “Need me to pinch you?”

He lets out a sound that's somewhere between a laugh and a whine. “Maybe.”

You reach out and pinch his arm gently but firmly.

“Ow,” he complains. 

“You're the one who wanted it.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to do it so hard.” He rubs his arm, giving you a half-hearted glare. His cheeks are still red, and there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. He looks incredibly cute right now. “You didn’t say you were going to maim me.”

You roll your eyes. “My apologies, your highness.”

He sticks his tongue out at you, still massaging his arm. 

You can't help but laugh a little. He grins at you, his eyes crinkling up at the sides. He looks a little less stunned now, and the sight of his smile manages to calm your racing heartbeat a little bit. 

"So…" he says after a moment, still looking at you intently. “So… we’re actually doing this?” he asks, his voice still a little hesitant. “You and me?”

Three words have never felt so heavy. Your heart feels like it's jumping into your throat, your blood thrumming in your ears. This is actually real.

You nod slowly, words suddenly a little tricky to find. “You and me," you manage, a little breathlessly.

His answering smile is wide and dazzling, and it makes your heart do a little flip.

“Damn,” he says, a small huff of a laugh slipping past his lips as he shakes his head in disbelief. “I didn’t think things would turn out this way.” He looks genuinely awed, like he still can’t believe you’ve actually agreed to this, his eyes wide and shining. He reaches out and gingerly takes one of your hands in his, intertwining his fingers with yours.

It's strange. You've held hands before, but somehow the small action has you blushing harder than anything else you've done with him.

He’s staring so intently at your hands together, a small smile on his lips. He lets out a laugh, then looks up at you. “Is this weird?” he asks, a playful lilt to his voice.

You manage a shaky laugh, trying to calm your nerves. “A little,” you admit.

A soft, amused huff leaves his lips, before his smile turns more mischievous. Suddenly, he tugs on your hand to pull you towards him.

You let out a startled yelp, losing your balance and toppling forward on top of him. You catch yourself before you fully collide with him, forearms bracing against the bed as you find yourself inches away from Felix’s face. His hands immediately go to your waist, steadying you.

“Hey,” he says, smiling up at you. He reaches out to brush a strand of hair out of your face, his touch warm and soft. You feel your face getting hotter, the proximity to him making it hard to think straight.

“You’re blushing,” he points out teasingly.

“Yeah, well,” you say, your heart thundering in your chest. “You did that on purpose.”

He grins. “Maybe.”

His gaze just wanders over your face for a moment before he suddenly pulls your head down and presses a kiss to your forehead. Then your cheek. He’s kissing you all over your face, his breath warm on your skin. “You’re so pretty,” he whispers, and he’s just so— 

“That's you,” you mutter, your breath hitching as he brushes over a sensitive spot near your jaw, and he grins.

“Mmm... You think I'm pretty?”

Idiot. You want to punch him so bad — how could anyone not think that — but his mouth finds yours again, his hand moving up to your chest to feel the fluttering of your heart against his palm. He kisses you slow and deep, as if trying to memorize the feel of you.

Eventually he pulls back, breathing hard. His eyes are unfocused and you can see the pulse beating fast in the hollow of this throat.

“Wow,” he whispers. “Wow, I like you so much.”

You squeeze your eyes shut before you literally start swooning. “Uh… cool,” you mutter. You know, like an idiot.

“Cool?” he repeats, amused. “Really?”

“Shut up.”

He lets out a huff. “You’re so smooth,” he teases, a smile in his voice. “But you still haven’t said it back.”

You open your eyes to find him looking at you expectantly, an exaggerated pout on his lips. “How am I supposed to know your feelings, hm? You're killing me here.”

“You're so fucking cheesy,” you complain. “I already said it.”

He hums, a wounded look on his face. “Yeah, hypothetically or something. As if that means shit. You’re gonna wither my heart here. Just gonna leave me wondering if—”

“I like you too,” you blurt out, words tripping over each other in your haste to get them out. “Obviously.”

His eyes widen and he stares up at you, mouth hanging open in a little ‘o’. For a moment it almost seems like he’s speechless, but then, slowly, a grin spreads across his face and he laughs.

“Yeah? You do?” he asks, the look in his eyes clearly fishing for more. “How much?”

“I'll fucking kill you,” you mutter, but you’re sure the heat in your face diminishes any vehemence.

“Ouch,” he says, laughing again. “You’d kill your new boyfriend?”

Your eyes practically bulge out of their sockets. You falter before managing to stammer out, “U-Um, boyfriend…” 

He laughs and pulls you down to him again. You let out a squeak of surprise this time as you fall onto his chest, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“Yeah,” he says, voice laced with a teasing lilt. “Boyfriend. You’re stuck with me now.”

You bite your lip. “I'll uh…” you mumble into his chest. “I'll think about moving in. Like, actually.”

His arms tighten around you at the words, and he lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah?” he asks, the excitement evident in his tone. “You’d… really? For real?”

“Maybe,” you say, your voice just a little shaky. “I might.”

He laughs, his chest vibrating underneath you as he hugs you even tighter. “No take backs.”

He nuzzles further into you, resting his cheek against the top of your head, apparently not minding your still damp hair. You feel his hand start rubbing circles against your back. You shiver a little, his touch sending a little thrill through you.

It feels so… domestic. Being in his arms like this. This easy, comfortable intimacy that used to be so foreign to you. You never thought you’d get to have this.

After a few minutes of calm silence, Felix speaks again. “What do we like… do?”

“Um…” you laugh a bit. “I don't know? I thought you would know.”

“Me? I mean… It's just weird because we've been friends, like, forever.”

He's right. The boundaries feel a bit blurry now. You lift your head a little to look up at him. His eyes are a little unfocused, his gaze roaming around the room as he thinks.

“I— I can’t believe I’m dating my best friend. That's so cliché,” he says, before pausing. “I mean… We're still friends, right? That doesn’t like… change?”

“I… yeah..?” You think you'd rather die than lose him as a friend. “We'll always be friends.”

To emphasize your point, you reach up and flick his forehead gently.

“Dude!” he complains, rubbing his forehead. “What was that for?”

“You’re being stupid,” you tell him. “If we're not gonna still be friends then I don't wanna do this at all.”

“You're still violent,” he mutters, pouting a little before smiling. “Okay, okay, okay. Friends forever.”

—

(Later…)

“We should go on a date.”

You almost completely trip and fall over on your way to the couch in the living room, but manage to catch yourself. “A date?”

“Yeah,” Felix says, looking a little sheepish. “Like, out somewhere. Fancy dinner. Candlelight. The whole thing.”

You don't know why it surprised you so much. Of course couples go on dates. Still, you raise an eyebrow at him. “The whole thing,” you repeat, a hint of disbelief in your voice.

He pouts at you. “Come on. I’m trying to be romantic here. Work with me.”

With a sigh, you sit next to him and look sideways at him. “I can’t believe you’re serious. Candlelight—”

“Hey.” He straightens up, a determined look on his face. “I am serious. It’s gonna be romantic and sweet and amazing and you’re going to fall deeply in love with me and—”

You roll your eyes at his words, unable to hold back a smile. “Is that so, Casanova?”

His ears flush a bit, but he doesn’t back down. “Yeah. I’ll have you know I’ve charmed plenty of people this way.”

You roll your eyes again, still smiling. 

“And then after I make you swoon with my unstoppable rizz and devilish good looks, we’ll… make out in the back of my car?” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

Your face flushes red at the suggestion, but you quickly try to compose yourself. “Yeah, right. I'm not even special, huh? You do that with everyone?”

Felix laughs, his eyes glittering with amusement. “No! No,” he protests, shaking his head quickly.

He reaches out to grab your hand, his touch warm and gentle. He interlaces your fingers together, holding your hand gently but firmly in his.

“No, it’s just you,” he says, an earnest look on his face. “I promise. Just you.”

The sincerity in his voice has your heart fluttering in your chest, and you can feel your cheeks flushing a little again. You look down at your hands together, feeling a strange sort of vulnerability.

“Well,” you say, clearing your throat. “I think you've been watching too many cheesy rom coms.”

He laughs. “Maybe,” he says, shrugging. “But it’s a good plan, right?”

You roll your eyes at him, but you can’t help but feel affection bloom in your chest. This is what you missed. The easy banter, the playful teasing. 

“Yeah, sure,” you say. “Very suave. Charm my pants off in an expensive restaurant. You should show up with a boombox while you're at it.”

Felix grins at that. “Hell yeah.”

You're suddenly startled by the sound of the front door unlocking. You let go of Felix's hand but you barely get a second to think before the door is swinging open and a boisterous voice bursts through the room.

“Yooo, Felix you in? Minho kicked me out cus apparently studying is important and I don't get anything done over there but I—”

You and Felix turn to face Jisung, who cuts off when he sees you together. His mouth drops open in a small ‘o’ and his eyes narrow as they flick back and forth between the two of you curiously.

You blink a few times, wondering what his deal is until — Oh shit. You quickly slap your hand over your neck but it's too late.

“Oh. Dude. No fucking way,” Jisung grins, looking absolutely gleeful. “Innie totally owes me twenty bucks.”

You and Felix exchange horrified looks. “What?!”

—

a/n: so.... what started as a silly one shot scenario quickly devolved into a 30k+ long series LMAO.. honestly, i never would have written as much as i did if not for yall loving it sm. thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the love and support, i never ever could have dreamed it! i hope this was enjoyable and a satisfying resolution (^—^) plss lmk what you thought!

thank you SO MUCH for reading 🫶🩷💕

[adamfromhr]

Tag Game!

shuffle your “on repeat” playlist & list the first 10 songs.

from @calypsohan

Here are my current 10 biggest favourites :)

I tag: anyone who comes across this post and wants to hop on.

I would be especially curious to see what @jeonginsleftcheek and @hardcandythinking have as their favourites these days. Yeah I am vibin with Mette a lot these days and if you look into her, so will you.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

ty for tagging me🫶🏻

even tho i'm listening to a lot of liminal music and horror game soundtracks lately i guess spotify chose this

no pressure tags: @moonchild9350 @jehhskz @lixies-favorite-cookie @seungfl0wer @dwaekkicidal @hyunebunx @seospicybin @starlost-mochi-x @starlostseungmin @quokkacidal @spookwyrdie & anyone else who wants to join🩷

[moonchild9350]

Thanks for the taggggg @jeonginsleftcheek 💙

Idk the state of my brain: a mess

New tags: @jehhskz @dandelions-143 @doitforbangchan @seungfl0wer @moonlightndaydreams @j-0ne25 @cookielixie

[cookielixie]

omggg thank you so much for the tag 🫶🏻 here it is, a lot of everything

can you tell im going through some shit lmao

im tagging: whoever wants to do this tag and: @ujimoo @rosylix (sorry i’m tagging you guys so much lately heh)

[cookielixie]

Helloooo

I just read some of ur skz fake texts and they are soooo goooddd

The angst the fluff the crack 🤌❤️

I hope you have a lovely day🌷

helloooo, omg thank you so much 😭 i appreciate it sososo much, you have me giggling and kicking my feet here 🫶🏻🥹 i hope you have an amazing day as well 🌸

[cookielixie]

Hi can you do 21 with Chan plz

"𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐧, 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞"

pairing: chan x reader, seungmin x reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: mentions of depression and anxiety

A/N: seungmin has been requested for this too, and i admit this was a lil too self indulgent woops. hope you like it!

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍:

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍:

taglist: @angelzforu @tinyelfperson @ujimoo @hey-i-really-miss-you @justastraymoa @gurneetsadhra23 @hyune-ssne @velvetmoonlght @luminouskalopsia @fackeraccount @wildtokay @katchowbbie

[cookielixie]

Omg your fake texts are to die for. Just read I.N calling you clingy and I am trying not to ball my eyes at work 😭 If like to ask for the same (fake texts with 2) with Felix. I can't imagine our sunshine as cruel but I'd like to see what it could look like. Angsty shit gives me life 😅

hiii lovely!! thank you so much for reading omg, i really appreciate it 😭 I posted #2 with the rest of the members and you can find it here:

╰► he calls you clingy

[cookielixie]

Hiii, Jeongin’s calling you clingy was too good like chills and now I’m at a dilemma - like I want to ask prompt 2 for Chan, Minho and Jisung BUT like part 2 calling you clingy sounds really good too, DECISIONS 😫

Okay, may I ask for Chan, Minho and Jisung for prompt 2? (If 3 members is too many then you can pick one of them) 💙💙💙

𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲

pairing: chan x reader, minho x reader, changbin x reader, hyunjin x reader, jisung x reader, felix x reader, seungmin x reader (jeongin is in a separate post)

genre: angst, fluff

A/N: I'm so sorry to keep you guys waiting, i had a lil mental breakdown so I haven't been able to write much these weeks :( i'm so happy you liked jeongin's, i got the same request for all the other members so here is the rest hehe! i hope it is as good as the last one - enjoy!

masterlist

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍:

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐎:

𝐒𝐄𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍:

𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍:

𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆:

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗:

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍:

taglist: @angelzforu @tinyelfperson @ujimoo @hey-i-really-miss-you @justastraymoa @gurneetsadhra23 @hyune-ssne @velvetmoonlght @luminouskalopsia @fackeraccount @wildtokay @katchowbbie

[starlostseungmin]

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　tagged by @zoe8stay

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　veggie quiz. 🥦🍅🥔🥕

no pressure tags : @starseungs @hyunebunx @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @stayconnecteed @seungluvr @seungfl0wer @arrasuh @jeongin-lvr @jeonginsleftcheek @hwan-g @seospicybin @j-0ne25 @hyunverse + anyone who wants to do this 💚

[seungfl0wer]

This was so fucking cute dude tysm for tagging me!

Funny I get garlic- I absolutely love garlic bro😂 I eat pickled garlic whole lol. Also this is pretty accurate especially the music taste part lol. But I do NOT chew with my mouth open 😤 also so like- who wants to join my cult?

Tagging: @doitforbangchan @sheerfreesia007 @charmerchannie @jeonginsleftcheek @moonchild9350 @dwaekkicidal @httpdwaekki @dazed--xx @gnabnahcsworld @cookielixie and anyone else! Even if you don’t post it this was super cute today!

[cookielixie]

why is this actually so accurate 😭😭😭 tysm for tagging me (and for saying my hands are soft lmao) @seungfl0wer 💛✨

tagging @ujimoo @moonchild9350 @rosylix and everyone else who wants to do it hehe

[vesvosmozhno]

@justsomekpopstuff tagged me in this but the other post is miles long

Sacrifices: @beenbaanbuun @coffee-addict-kitten @wooyoungisbaby @halavibe @hwakakeri @hongjoongsgoat @sillyspero

[charmerchannie]

Thank you for tagging me!!

What im good at writing and what i like are somewhat at odds, not to mention real life. But im such a sucker for enemies/rivals to lovers.

No pressure tags: @bodybahng @lookitsjess @halesandy @skz317cb97 @seungfl0wer @bluejutdae @hyunjins-orange-slice-too

[bluejutdae]

I love this!! Thanks for tagging me, sweetie

np tags: @ikykwklk-ash @httpdwaekki @bbokicidal @amyz78 @4ln-stay8 @capitainesyallin @seungfl0wer and whoever wants to do it!

[seungfl0wer]

Tagged by the lovelies🖤 @charmerchannie @bluejutdae

Tagging: @sheerfreesia007 @httpdwaekki @dwaekkicidal @cookielixie @gnabnahcsworld @doitforbangchan @jeonginsleftcheek @biteyoubiteme @moonchild9350 obviously don’t have too🖤 anyone else who would like to do this too!

[cookielixie]

tagged by @seungfl0wer (thank you so much 🫶🏻)

tagging: @rosylix @ujimoo @bahablastplz @moonchild9350 (and anyone else who wants to do it ofc!) 🫶🏻

[seungfl0wer]

your game prompt nr 25 with the sunshine twins (Jisung and Felix) ☀️

Prompt 25: “Are you cheating on me?”

Warnings: Cheating (han’s), Cursing, sorry for any mistakes!

Invisible Ink Game Master List

Other members (Minho) were requested

-🖤

Jisung:

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Felix:

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Minho:

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan

[cookielixie]

I am loving the two texts that you’ve done for I.N and Felix, If it’s alright I’d like to request Minho #12, I feel like Minho as a roommate would be great

𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐮

pairing: minho x reader

genre: fluff, crack

A/N: thank you so much, i am so happy to hear that you're enjoying my work T.T i hope you like this one!

masterlist