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•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—• Just Another Bad Decision
Genre: Contemporary Romance / Suggestive Fluff
Word Count: 1,650 words
Warnings: Suggestive content, making out, heavy tension, implied sexual themes (non-graphic)
Summary: You keep telling yourself that whatever is happening between you and Felix is temporary. Harmless. A mistake you can walk away from whenever you choose. But every time he gets close—every slow touch, every low whisper—you fall right back into him. What starts as stolen moments and playful resistance turns into something dangerously addictive. You know it’s a bad decision. The problem is… you don’t want to make a good one.
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I should’ve known better than to come over.
The second Felix texted, “You busy?” I already knew how it would end. Not in disaster. Not in regret exactly.
Just in him.
It’s always him.
When I step into his apartment, he’s leaning against the kitchen counter like he expected me. Black shirt. Sleeves pushed up. That unfairly soft blond hair falling into his eyes.
“You came,” he says, and it sounds almost smug.
“I was bored,” I reply, dropping my bag on the chair like I’m not already hyper-aware of the way his gaze drags slowly over me.
He hums like he doesn’t believe me.
Once was never enough. That was the problem. The first time this happened, it was an accident. Movie night. Too little space on the couch. His arm stretched along the backrest behind me.
The second time wasn’t an accident.
Now? It’s a pattern.
“I thought you said we weren’t doing this anymore,” he says lightly.
“We’re not,” I answer just as lightly.
He pushes off the counter and walks toward me anyway.
Felix never rushes. That’s what makes it worse. He closes the distance slowly, like he’s giving me time to step away. To change my mind.
I don’t.
“You’re terrible at keeping distance,” he murmurs.
“So are you.”
He smiles at that.
There’s always that moment. That fragile second where we’re standing close enough to feel the heat between us but not touching yet. My heart pounds like it’s waiting for permission.
He gives it.
His hand slides to my waist, fingers spreading like he’s testing the shape of me. Not grabbing. Just resting there. Warm. Steady.
“Tell me where’s the harm,” he says quietly.
And I hate that I don’t have an answer.
Because the harm isn’t in the touching. It isn’t in the way his thumb brushes just under the hem of my shirt, barely there.
The harm is in how easily I melt.
I should step back.
Instead, I lift my hands and let them settle against his chest. His heartbeat is quick. Not as calm as he pretends.
“Just another bad decision,” I whisper.
Felix’s eyes darken slightly. “You keep saying that.”
“And you keep proving me right.”
He laughs under his breath, but his grip tightens just a little as he pulls me closer. My back brushes the wall, and suddenly there’s nowhere left to retreat to—even though I know if I said the word, he’d move.
He always would.
That’s the dangerous part.
His forehead rests against mine. Our breaths mix. Slow. Warm.
“Then go,” he murmurs softly.
I don’t.
His fingers slide up my side, tracing the curve of my waist like he’s memorizing it. Every touch is unhurried. He takes his time like he already knows I’m not leaving.
When his lips finally brush my jaw, it’s almost gentle.
Almost.
My eyes close automatically. My hands curl into his shirt, pulling him closer first this time. If this is a mistake, at least I’m choosing it.
He kisses down my neck slowly, deliberately, finding the sensitive spot that makes my knees weaken.
“Felix—” I breathe.
He hums against my skin.
“Say stop,” he whispers, voice rougher now.
I know I should.
Instead, my fingers slip under the edge of his shirt, brushing warm skin. Feeling the sharp inhale he tries to hide. I like that. The way I can break his composure just as easily as he breaks mine.
“You’re not fair,” I murmur.
“Neither are you.”
His hands move lower now, tracing the curve of my hips, pulling me flush against him. I can feel exactly how much he wants this.
How much I do too.
Every time feels like the first time. Like the spark is new. Like we haven’t already crossed this line before and promised not to again.
His mouth finds mine, and this time it’s not teasing.
It’s slow and deep and intentional.
He kisses like he’s savoring something. Like he’s tasting a secret.
I kiss him back harder.
Because if I’m going to fall, I might as well fall properly.
He makes a soft sound against my lips when I tug him closer, and suddenly I’m the one pushing him back a step. My hands trail down his chest, over his stomach, feeling the tension there.
“See?” I whisper. “Bad decision.”
“Then why are you shaking?”
Because he pulls me under slowly. Because he knows exactly what I crave without me ever saying it out loud. Because when he looks at me like this, I forget every boundary I tried to draw.
His hand slides into my hair, tilting my head back just enough for him to kiss me deeper. Slower. Like he’s got all night.
And maybe he does.
Every warning in my head disappears. All I can feel is heat. His hands. His mouth. The steady rhythm of his breathing mixing with mine.
“I know better,” I whisper against his lips.
“No, you don’t,” he replies softly.
He walks me backward until we hit the couch, and this time when we fall onto it, it’s not an accident. He hovers above me for a second, eyes searching mine.
Still giving me a choice.
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down.
Choice made.
The kiss turns lazy. Heated. His hands roam but never cross into something we can’t come back from. It’s suggestive. Dangerous. Addictive.
His fingers slip under my shirt again, resting against my waist, warm against bare skin. My nails drag lightly down his back, and he exhales sharply.
That sound alone could ruin me.
“Last time,” I say breathlessly.
“Sure,” he says, not believing it.
We both know I don’t mean it.
Because every time he pulls me close, I feel like I’m exactly where I want to be. Even if I call it wrong. Even if I pretend I’ll stop next time.
When his lips soften again, when his forehead presses against mine and his hands slow their wandering to just hold me—
That’s when it hits hardest.
It’s not just the heat.
It’s the way he always gives me an out.
And the way I never take it.
Just another bad decision.
But when Felix pulls me closer, when his thumb traces my jaw and his voice drops to that quiet, intimate tone meant only for me—
I don’t fight it.
I never do.
K-pop-inspired fan-made, not official
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