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sunshineangel0 · 1 month ago

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beach trouble 𓆉 . ݁𓇼

pairing- Lee Felix x Reader summary- What starts as an innocent sunscreen application turns into a full-blown game of teasing and tension when Felix decides to test just how much you can handle. The problem? You refuse to lose. genre- fluff, friends to lovers word count- 1.2k warnings- Felix being a menace, pet names, thigh-grabbing, almost-kissing, mutual pining but so much denial, your heart rate skyrocketing because LEE FELIX IS TOO HOT FOR HIS OWN GOOD, jisung and changbin being cockblocks, felix saying one suggestive word a/n- i cant wait for summer to come!!! so happy that its finally WARM where i live and the sun is shining

The sun hung high in the sky, beating down relentlessly on the golden sand beneath your feet. The beach was alive with laughter, waves crashing in a steady rhythm, and the scent of salt filling the air. It was supposed to be a normal, chill day—just you, Felix, and your friends.

But, of course, Felix never makes things easy for you.

You sighed, setting down your towel before rummaging through your bag. Sunscreen, sunscreen… There. You pulled it out and flipped open the cap, only to feel a familiar presence settle beside you.

"You need help?" Felix’s voice was smooth, casual—but something about it sent a shiver down your spine.

You looked up at him. His skin was already glowing under the sun, damp from the ocean, tiny droplets of water rolling down his chest. His black swim trunks clung to his hips just right, and his freckles—God, his freckles—were scattered across his nose like a masterpiece.

You swallowed. "I—uh, yeah, sure. Just uh— my back."

The moment you said it, you immediately regretted it.

Felix grinned, taking the bottle from your hands. "No problem, sweetheart."

Oh, no. Not the pet names.

You turned around, exposing your back to him as you sat cross-legged on your soft beach towel. The sunscreen felt cool against your skin as he squirted some onto his palms. And then—

His hands touched you.

You were expecting something quick, efficient, platonic.

Instead? Slow. Deliberate. His hands glided over your shoulders first, fingers pressing in just enough to make you exhale a little too sharply.

"You’re tense," Felix murmured, his voice dipping into something lower, almost teasing.

You clenched your jaw. "It’s because you’re making this weird."

Felix chuckled, but he didn’t stop—his palms smoothed down your shoulder blades, thumbs pressing into the knots near your spine like he was giving you a massage instead of just applying sunscreen.

And then, his hands dipped lower.

Your breath hitched.

"Relax," he whispered near your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "I gotta make sure you don’t burn, right?"

Right. Right. That’s why he was doing this.

Not because he was enjoying it. Not because he knew damn well what he was doing to you.

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped when his fingers skimmed over your sides, his touch lingering too long, moving too slow.

"Felix." Your voice came out as more of a warning than anything.

He hummed, still dragging this out, his fingertips barely brushing the curve of your waist.

"Problem?" he asked, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You turned around so fast that he barely had time to pull his hands back. Your eyes locked onto his, and—yep. That little menace was definitely smirking.

"You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?" you accused.

Felix blinked, feigning innocence. "Enjoying what?"

You huffed. "The way you’re—ugh. Never mind."

Felix bit his lip like he was holding back a laugh. Then, he leaned in, so close you could see the golden flecks in his brown eyes.

"If you wanted me to keep going," he murmured, "all you had to do was ask, love."

Your brain short-circuited.

Okay. That’s it.

You grabbed the sunscreen bottle and squirted a generous amount into your palm before smacking it directly onto his chest. Felix yelped, jerking back as you rubbed it in way too aggressively.

You thought that would be the end of it—just a harmless bit of revenge for all the teasing.

But Felix? Oh. He had other ideas.

His expression shifted—still playful, but now something darker flickered behind his chocolate brown eyes eyes. His lips curled into a slow smirk, and before you could even react, he grabbed your wrist.

"Oh, so that’s how we’re playing?" he murmured.

Your stomach flipped.

Before you could pull away, Felix dragged his fingers along your arm, slow, warm, calculated. And then—

He pushed you down onto your towel.

Your breath hitched as he caged you in, one knee sliding between your legs, his hands planted on either side of your head.

"Felix—"

"You started this angel," he mused, his lips just barely brushing the shell of your ear.

Your pulse thundered. You could feel the heat radiating from his bare skin, his toned arms tensing slightly as he held himself above you. His chest hovered just inches from yours, his breath warm as he exhaled.

And the worst part? That bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

"You’re such a menace," you muttered, shifting beneath him.

Felix chuckled, his hips pressing just slightly into yours before he pulled back. "Hmm, you dont seem to mind," he murmured.

You tried to glare at him, but then—

His fingers ghosted along the inside of your thigh.

Oh, fuck.

"You good?" he asked, his voice too innocent for what he was doing. You clenched your jaw. "You’re ridiculous."

He just smiled. But instead of backing off, he dragged his fingers higher, his touch featherlight but so damn deliberate.

Too close. Too slow. Too much.

"Relax," he murmured, fingertips barely skimming over your bikini strap. "I gotta make sure you don’t burn, right?"

Your breath caught in your throat.

This wasn’t fair. This was not fucking fair.

Felix had always been a flirt—but this? This was an entirely different level of teasing.

Your thighs twitched, your body instinctively reacting to his touch. And you knew he noticed, because he let out the softest hum.

"You’re awfully quiet," he murmured, tilting his head. "What’s wrong?"

Your jaw clenched. "You know exactly what’s wrong, Felix." He grinned. "Do I?"

You couldn’t take it anymore. You grabbed his wrist, halting his slow, torturous movements. His eyes flickered with something unreadable—a challenge—as he stared down at you.

"You keep touching me like that," you said, voice low, "and people are gonna start talking."

Felix froze for a second. Then, his grin turned downright wicked.

"So?" His fingers tightened slightly on your thigh. "Let them talk."

Your breath hitched. Felix had been playing this game for weeks—teasing glances, lingering touches, flirty little comments that never went anywhere. But now?

Now, he was testing you. Your body burned, your mind racing as he leaned down, his freckles just inches from your lips.

His next words? Almost sent you into cardiac arrest. "You could just tell me to stop," he whispered. But you didn’t.

Instead, you wrapped your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Felix inhaled sharply.

Oh. Oh.

"Something wrong?" you murmured, throwing his own game back at him. His jaw tightened. "Trouble," he muttered under his breath.

"What?"

Felix suddenly dipped his head, lips grazing just below your ear. His voice was low, almost a growl. "You, angel," he whispered, "are fucking trouble."

Your stomach dropped.

And then—

"HEY, LOVE BIRDS! ARE YOU GONNA MAKE OUT OR WHAT?"

You jerked away from Felix so fast you nearly whacked your forehead into his.

Felix groaned, flopping onto his back beside you as Jisung and Changbin cackled from a few feet away.

"RUDE!" Felix shouted, throwing a handful of sand in their direction.

Your heart was still racing. Your thighs still tingled from where Felix’s hands had been. You turned your head toward him—he was already watching you.

He smirked.

"This isn’t over, angel."

And you knew—from the way his eyes darkened, from the way his fingers twitched at his sides—he was absolutely right.

You were so, so screwed.

©sunshineangel0 𖹭 if you liked this work, please consider reblogging, commenting or liking! xoxo franzi 💋

skz general: @velvetmoonlght @scarlet789 @estella-novella

(if you want to be added to my taglist, please comment under the post.)

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sunshineangel0 · 2 months ago

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-baking, because murder is wrong. ✩‧

pairing- lee felix x reader summary- After a frustrating day, you show up at Felix’s apartment in the middle of the night, demanding a baking session before you do something illegal. genre- fluff, comedy, best friends to lovers word count- 1.6k warnings- mentions of stress/frustration (but no heavy angst), excessive fluff and best friends-to-lovers tension (your heart may combust), mild swearing (a few curses here and there), lots of playful banter and teasing ! not proof read (sorry for spelling mistakes etc.)

2:03 AM – Felix’s Apartment

Felix was enveloped in a deep, restful slumber when his phone began to vibrate aggressively against the wooden surface of his nightstand. At first, he ignored it, burrowing deeper under his blanket. Then it buzzed again. And again. And again. With a groggy sigh, he finally reached for it, squinting at the screen.

Y/N🦋: I’m outside.

Y/N🦋: Open the door before I commit arson.

With a resigned sigh, Felix dragged himself out of bed. The clock on his nightstand blinked 2:17 AM in glaring red digits. Of course. This wasn’t the first time you'd turned up at his doorstep in the dead of night, exuding an unmistakable air of barely contained chaos.

Felix shuffled to the door, rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes. As he unlocked it, he was greeted by the sight of you, swathed in an oversized hoodie that dwarfed your frame, your hair tousled as if you’d run a marathon through a windstorm. In your arms, you clutched a bag of flour with the intensity of someone holding a weapon, ready for battle.

“…Do I even want to ask?” he muttered, his voice a mix of amusement and resignation.

You pushed past him, your footsteps echoing off the wooden floor as you marched into the apartment. "I need to bake before I do something illegal," you declared, your tone a storm cloud ready to burst.

Felix just shook his head, closing the door with a soft click. He was completely unfazed, accustomed to your nocturnal baking escapades as an antidote to whatever madness the world had thrown your way.

Felix leaned casually against the kitchen counter, his eyes following your every move as you aggressively swept ingredients from the cupboard and plunked them onto the table with a loud clatter. "So," he drawled, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement, "who's got you all riled up this time?"

You slammed a hefty bag of sugar onto the counter, sending a small cloud of white dust into the air. "My boss is an idiot," you snapped, the frustration evident in the sharpness of your voice.

Felix nodded slowly, his expression one of feigned seriousness. "Mhm."

"And my coworkers are absolutely useless," you continued, grabbing a carton of eggs and placing it beside the flour with a thud.

"Right," Felix said, his tone encouraging you to vent more.

You threw your hands up in exasperation, your voice rising with each word. "And I swear, if one more person tells me to 'just calm down,' I'm going to start throwing hands."

Felix couldn't suppress his grin any longer and reached for a mixing bowl, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Alright. Let’s rage bake," he said, ready to join in the therapeutic chaos.

It started innocently enough, with the kitchen bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun. Felix stood at the counter, meticulously measuring flour with a slight furrow of concentration on his brow. Meanwhile, you were beside him, whisking the batter with a fierce determination, your movements a blur of energy.

Then—

“You know you’re supposed to gently fold in the butter, right?” Felix teased, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he glanced over at you.

You shot him a glare, eyebrows raised in defiance. “Do I look like I care about technique right now?” you retorted, the whisk still clutched tightly in your hand.

Felix snorted, a chuckle escaping as he shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re dangerous,” he remarked, feigning a look of mock terror.

Then, before he could react—

You scooped up a handful of flour and flicked it at him, watching as a cloud of white powder puffed into the air, settling on his shirt.

Felix froze, his eyes wide with surprise as he processed the sudden attack. You broke into a wide grin, feeling a rush of triumph.

“…Oh, you’re done for,” he murmured, a playful threat in his voice.

With that, he grabbed a fistful of flour and launched it at you, a burst of powdery chaos swirling around you both. You gasped, ducking and weaving just in time to avoid the white storm. “You little—” you began, laughter bubbling up uncontrollably.

Chaos erupted in the small kitchen. Flour flew through the air like snow in a blizzard, sugar spilled across the countertop, and Felix danced around your attacks with surprising agility, a grin never leaving his face. You were mid-throw, about to hurl another handful, when Felix lunged forward. With a swift motion, he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you momentarily off the ground and spinning you away from the counter.

The two of you crashed gently against the fridge, laughter ringing out as you both tried to catch your breath, the world around you dusted in white. Felix’s face was only inches from yours, his eyes locked onto yours, a soft smile playing on his lips.

And suddenly—

You weren’t thinking about your boss, whose endless demands had been weighing on you. You weren’t thinking about your awful day, filled with stress and frustration. You were just thinking about him, the warmth of his presence and the laughter you shared, and nothing else seemed to matter.

The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed reminded you of the sun peeking through clouds on a dreary day. His hands lingered on your waist, warm and reassuring, as if they belonged there. His smile softened, just slightly, as he looked at you, the corners of his lips curling gently upward. Your heart skipped a beat, a fluttering sensation that you couldn't quite control.

And before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out of your mouth—"…You look good like this."

Felix blinked, surprise flickering in his eyes, before a playful smirk spread across his face. "Covered in flour?" he teased, gesturing to the white dusting on his shirt.

You laughed, a light, airy sound that filled the kitchen, and nudged his chest with the back of your hand. “No, I mean—” You hesitated, your gaze dropping to the floor as you tried to gather the courage that seemed to have slipped away.

Felix tilted his head, his eyes gentle and encouraging. Then, in a quieter voice, he urged, “Say it.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. This was dangerous territory, a line you had both been dancing around for months. But maybe, just maybe, you were tired of pretending. So you exhaled, your voice barely above a whisper, the words escaping your lips—"…I mean, I like you, dumbass."

Felix froze, his expression momentarily unreadable. Your stomach plummeted like a stone in a pond. Oh. Oh no. What if you had ruined everything between you?

But then, Felix's lips curved into a genuine grin, not teasing or smug, but soft and sincere, as if he had been waiting for this moment all along. Without a trace of hesitation, he said, “I like you too.”

Your breath caught in your throat, hope bubbling up inside you. “Yeah?” you asked, barely daring to believe it.

Felix chuckled, a deep, rich sound, and reached up to gently brush a smudge of flour from your cheek. “Yeah,” he confirmed, his eyes twinkling with warmth.

And then, slowly, sweetly, he leaned in and kissed you. It was a kiss that enveloped you like a warm embrace, tender and unhurried. It felt like all those late-night baking sessions had finally revealed their true purpose, like this was more than just a distraction. It felt like he was exactly where he wanted to be, and so were you.

You perched on the edge of the marble counter, your legs swinging idly back and forth, while Felix meticulously swept up the scattered flour that covered the kitchen like a fresh layer of snow. The remnants of your late-night baking escapade were everywhere—flour dusted the floor, bits of dough clung to the edges of the wooden table, and a sweet aroma lingered in the air.

“…So, technically, I still never got my revenge,” you mused, watching Felix’s careful movements as he wiped the counter with a damp cloth, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Felix paused, glancing up at you with an exasperated yet amused look. “I think you had enough fun throwing flour at me,” he retorted, brushing some lingering white powder from his dark hair.

You flashed a mischievous grin, the memory of your playful battle fresh in your mind. “Maybe.”

Then, as the moment softened, your voice did too, turning almost contemplative. “But I feel better.”

Felix’s stern expression melted away, replaced by a gentle warmth. He reached out, his fingers lightly tapping your knee, a silent acknowledgment of the bond you shared. “That’s why I let you wake me up at 2 AM,” he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble that made your heart skip a beat.

You rolled your eyes playfully, feeling the flutter of your pulse quicken, and hopped off the counter, landing softly on the cool tile floor. “Come on,” you said, tugging at the sleeve of his floured shirt with a gentle insistence. “Cookies are done.”

Felix grinned widely, his eyes sparkling with a mix of affection and amusement, and allowed you to lead him toward the oven. Together, you both sank onto the floor, the warmth from the freshly baked cookies seeping through the plates in your hands. Sharing the sweet treats and exchanging shy, stolen glances, you couldn’t help but think—

Maybe baking really was better than murder. Especially when it meant discovering a love that felt as warm and comforting as the cookies you shared.

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