Felix | 3:52 am | Aquarium - 360 shark tunnel hallway
Stray Kids Felix | ~630 words | fluff?
a/n: hello i am somewhat revived, i write whatever for whoever now, probably gonna restructure my desktop blog later,,lemme grad first. anyway have this,,,this is based of sumn that happened, but ended how i wanted it to end lol.
Being in the aquarium is always so relaxing.
Watching the stream of artificial lights pass through the tanks; the man-made sunshine dancing like wisps of smoke through the changing hues of water.
Weird enough, it’s always been the shark tank that calms you.
Here, you’re laying flat on the floor. Well, a cool pane of glass that acts as the floor for the hallway. This tunnel is built like a half-circle, so many inches of glass keeping you safe from the thousands of gallons of water, yet letting you be its beauty without ever being consumed.
Felix releases your hand and you almost forget he was even holding it; It’s always just so comfortable here. Like a reflex to be here, with him, holding him.
“Ah it’s getting late already” his voice barely whispers but it still rumbles in your ear. “We’ll probably see the sun coming through soon.”
You roll your head just to the side a bit, following the tail of a black-tip shark as it glides across the side of the tunnel. It moves so swiftly, yet so elegant and carefree.
This would be the peak “I’m an adult but refuse to be” type of angst if you were sneaking in here illegally almost every other night. But the truth is that Felix has keys to this place. He’s not the owner, but he somehow landed a management position here after graduating college in Marine Sciences.
“Oh quick, Y/N look. Here comes your favorite”
You look at him, watching briefly as the water-washed ripples of light spreads across his freckles, following his eyes back to the roof of the tank.
“Georgie!” You whisper, excited. Above you, a hammerhead shark wiggles its way along the roof of the circular tunnel, swimming across your head to your toes.
Felix watches your eyes widen and close as you smile; the blue and green shades of light that cascade down on your cheeks and onto the hoodie sitting beneath your head.
There’s soft piano music playing. You refuse to sit in silence, so Felix remembers to put classical music in the speakers on a low volume. Makes it more calming (and romantic) that way.
“I really love you, you know”
You smile at his words, closing your eyes and listening to the faint bubbling of the tank water as Felix sits up.
You raise a hand up to pinch his cheek, feeling like you two were just teenagers again; talking about love in the early hours of dawn.
“Y/N~~~” he whines with a goofy grin on his face. Intertwining your hand with his, he kisses your fingertips.
“I love you so much, Felix.”
It goes without saying, of course.
He turns his head to watch Georgie the Shark swim across the wall of the tunnel and away into the open water of the tank.
A sparkle catches your eye, and you watch a small, brown tiger shark whip into view. Another cutie to come back and look out for.
“Please don’t ever lose this job” you beg him, with a smile on your lips.
Chuckling and shaking his head, he leans down and moves some hair away from your face to kiss your forehead.
The lighting of the tank creates a halo around him that looks almost magical above you.
Then he kisses your nose.
It seems childish and cliche, but he looks like your mermaid prince right about now. The mosaic of water like a blanket of magic caressing you, keeping you young at heart without ever touching you.
And finally, he places the sweetest of kisses to your lips.
“Getting to do this right here is one of the many reasons why I keep it”.
synopsis: she’s the woman he loves, the mobster’s girl, the one who keeps him sane. she and Jooheon were once a lethal pair, but everyone’s gotta grow up at some point right? Jooheon she wants to move on from the mob life, and Jooheon had said he could do it. But when she came home to another victim pooling blood in her study, that was the last straw. she wants a family, a home. she wants to be safe. and she’s gonna get that even if Jooheon isn’t the one to give it to her.
a/n: I think I started something,,prepare for only yandere posts bc school is finally over and I am ✨moody✨
She would try to hold back tears if they were threatening to fall, but she no longer feels the need to cry.
Here she is, again. Hand on the cool bronze of the door knob, this mahogany door is the only thing between her and a the life she’s always wanted.
“Y/N!” She could hear Jooheon call frantically from down the hall, the butler trying to calm him and failing. “Please, where-”
He stops when he sees her at the door, packed and ready to leave. Coat and gloves and everything.
“No...” The sadness in his voice hits her much harder than any winter wind could; straight to the core, freezing her spine and twisting her stomach.
“I can’t, Jooheon.” She looks down at his sleek black dress shoes. No cell in her body would will her to meet his eyes.
His mouth opens then closes, tears already slipping past the corners of his lips as he looks at her.
“This is too hard, Joo. You have...a business to run. and I have my life to live. outside of...”—she gestures at the rug, flipped over and stained with blood from an obvious fight; at the scuff marks on the floor and the broken flower vase leaking water into the carpet—“away from all this”.
“But I thought you...but I want you to be a part of it...my life” he says, taking a step closer toward her. “I can’t live without you, I won’t I-”
“I want a family, Joo. I want children, I wanted yours. But I can’t raise a child like this. In this life. I thought you knew that”.
“I do, I do, I know. I’m trying, but—”
“—are you?”
He’s quiet as he watches her glance at the towel in his hand, spattered with blood that belongs to neither of them. Just moments ago she came home to muffled sounds of torture and interrogation. Now the place is ringing with silence.
He drops the towel on the counter behind him, and starts to wring his hands together for lack of an excuse.
Jooheon can tell she’s for real this time--about leaving for good. He knows because she still refuses to look him in the eye, and he absolutely cannot handle it. Her eyes, he wants to see them. He needs to know if she could still love him, even if it’s just a little bit.
But she won’t look at him specifically because she does love him. But if she lets him know that, he’ll win again. and she’s tired of letting him win.
“What can I do, Y/N? What should I do this time, how can I fix this?” He’s looking side to side, at the nightstand by the front door, back toward the kitchen island with the bloodstained towel, thinking for a split second, I should’ve just made the butler clean up, it would’ve saved me this whole mess and she wouldn’t have known that—
He pauses, something clicks, then he tilts his head toward her, saying “I’ll bet the butler put you up to this.”
“wh-”
“is he the one who told you we aren’t fit to be parents? That I can’t be a good father? Hm? That you should leave me?” He reaches to his hip, grasping hold of the revolver he keeps on his belt. “I can fix that right up, all his LIES-”
“NO JOOHEON” she practically yells his name, getting him to freeze. Then she sighs, “can’t you see this is the problem?”
When he looks back, he meets her eyes. Her beautiful glossy eyes, that were once so full of love for him. He can see that some part of her still does, but it’s running thin. Her eyes were also filled with such sadness, anger and...could it be... a shred of hate?
No, how is that possible!? He was running out of ideas. How could he fuck up so bad?
“You’re re in the goddamn mafia, Jooheon. Like fuck, you’re a punisher; you kill people just for looking at you the wrong way. You interrogate men in our home, gut them like fish and bleed them of information! as much as they’re afraid, people come after you like a villain! The cops are hunting you, we have to move every couple weeks, I have to patch you up almost every other day. Like... I don’t know how long I can keep up anymore. I’m tired.”
Jooheon begins to shake his head, denying everything; he refuses to hear her and all the things she’s saying. He can feel another headache coming the more she talks.
“Things just can’t work like this—”
“No, no, no, no. stop!” he bangs on his head with the butt of his gun repeatedly, trying to keep her words out.
Then he got it, and he looked at the clean metal of his revolver, it’s wooden grip. Where some call it old-fashioned to carry such an antique around, he finds it rather classic. Such fond memories are held in the grains of this gun, ones she too made along with him. And those memories motivate his idea even further.
Oh, what jooheon would do if he noticed the flash of fear in her eyes as he walked towards her; the tingle of dread that shot down her spine as he came closer, gun in hand, spinning the cylinder as if there wasn’t a bullet in every chamber.
His eyes were wide, nearly smiling because he thinks he’s figured out how to fix this.
He thrusts the pistol toward her, grip-first; the barrel staring back at him.
“Here! Shoot me!” His smile grows in size as he feels her grab the revolver from his hand. “Pull the fucking trigger, I know you can!”
It’s been a while since she last held Jooheon’s gun. It feels like an old home to her, distant but familiar and almost welcoming the rough skin of her palms...she doesn’t like it.
“Joo, this isnʻt-”
“C’mon, Y/N, shoot me! Like old times! God you were so good.”
She says nothing as she looks up from his gun in her hand to his eyes. Tears still fall down his cheeks even as he smiles sadly. Here, gun in her hand, he’s at the end of his rope. He wants anything to get her back, to get her away from that fucking door. He’s really losing it.
“HEY” he yells when she looks away from him. She jerks back to his instense gaze, letting him hold her there with his stare. “Fucking pull the trigger! fucking shoot me!” He takes another step towards her “You know I love the hunger in your eyes when you have a gun in your hands, I’ll do anything to bring that back!”
She swallows hard, her resolve just seconds away from pulling her further from her only way out.
She lifts the revolver, the barrel facing the exact center of Jooheon’s chest. Easy, she cocks the gun. If she were to listen closer, she could notice how his heart’s beginning to race.
“Yeah, there we go” he whispers, smiling. “Thatta girl”
She looks up into his eyes for the last time. And all he sees now is disappointment.
She’s got her finger on the trigger. No more love, no fear. Not even hate. Just a blank face and a gaze of disdain.
It’s as if he was watching the last of her love bleed out, pointing a gun to his chest. And he knows he’s lost her.
She tries to think about something novel thing to say. About how he’ll never change, or about how this is obviously the whole problem, and how she’s so done with it. but she settles for nothing. He can figure that out on his own.
So she doesn’t shoot him. She’s tired of him winning.
Speechless, she lowers the weapon. Jooheon has stopped smiling. No more tears, no panicked words. He’s numb, and accepts his fate.
Where, like everything in his life, he was expecting things to be fixed again with a bullet wound, he instead ruined it all and gained only heartbreak.
Like she’s always done, she twirls the gun in her hands so that she can hand it to him grip-first. Her arm is outstretched, waiting for him to take the weapon from her.
God, she was always so good.
He places his hand in the gun but he doesn’t take it back.
“Please” he says. She’s the only one he’s ever had to beg for.
She walks the last few steps between them and wraps an arm around his waist. She might’ve hugged him days before, but now she does so just to slip the revolver back into its holster.
“Goodbye, Jooheon” she says. And she turns away for the last time, turning the cold brass door knob and leaving for good.
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Looking at the miserable looking god standing on your front steps, you hesitated, wondering if you really wanted to welcome him inside after the way he’d just vanished on you last time, leaving you a mess of worry and hurt.
After several seconds of staring at his expression however, you gave in, sighing as you stepped away from the door and went in search of a towel, knowing that he would take the invitation for what it was. The muted click of the front door shutting a few moments later, proved your assumption correct.
Walking back into the room, you paused, frowning as you noticed that he hadn’t moved past the entry way, where as he use to just make himself comfortable straight away. The more you looked, the more you realised that something was very wrong.
Whilst not as tall as many of his counterparts, the god was still considerably tall by human standards, and yet, standing in your entrance way, he almost seemed small, as if he was steadily curling in on himself, both emotionally and physically.
It was a sight that instantly had your heart clenching painfully in your chest.
Releasing another disheartened sigh, you walked over and took one of his ice cold hands in yours, guiding him to sit down at the table, so that you weren’t having to reach up. His listless obedience only had your worry growing further, and after several minutes of silence, you decided to speak up, still gently drying his long hair.
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