#felix is not far behind

[maggotknight]

Abelard voice: The Lord Captian requires escort through The Bog

[katfreaks-hidyhole]

[the-nova-council]

We used to function so differently, our fronting pattern used to be what we described as 'skating'- two people were usually front at a time, one would leave and someone else would join, there were always two of us and it wasn't always the same two.

But lately it's always me. It's been this way for months. I'm by myself constantly or sometimes someone else will take front but if I do get to leave it's never for long. It takes so much effort to summon someone else and keep them co-con lately, when it used to just be our default way of existence.

I'm so lonely and tired now.

-Felix

[carnalcrows]

Terms and Conditions Applied

pariring: gangster! male OC x male reader [profile]

summary: You're a single dad, drowning in debt, barely holding it together for your daughter. But when loan collectors come knocking a little too hard, you find out your debt belongs to someone far more dangerous: Felix Marino, the quiet but infamous head of one of the most powerful mafia syndicates in the world. He makes you a deal—your freedom, for a job. One job. But nothing is ever that simple in his world. Especially when you're not sure what terrifies you more: the blood on your hands, or the way Felix looks at you like you belong to him.

content warnings: 18+, bottom male reader, explicit violence, blood and trauma aftermath, mild panic attack / dissociation, threats and coercion, organized crime themes, single parenthood under duress, mild sexual content, handjob (reader receiving), power imbalance, emotional manipulation, PTSD-like symptoms.

word count: 4.9k

The knocks came hard and fast.

They rattled the apartment door like gunfire—three hits, pause, two more, and a final slam that made the hinges groan. You froze mid-step, a half-unpacked grocery bag dangling from your fingers. Inside it, a bruised apple rolled to the floor.

Not again.

You scanned the room automatically, as if the act of tidying clutter might somehow soften the blow of reality. But the apartment was already bare. Sparse. Clean, in that way that says we don’t have much, but we’re trying.

A soft voice drifted from the hallway behind you. “Papa?”

You turned. There she was—your daughter. Four years old, hair mussed from a post-nap world, her favourite stuffed rabbit trailing from one hand. She rubbed her eyes with the other, blinking at you.

Your heart clenched.

“It’s okay, baby,” you said quietly. “Go back to your room, yeah? I’ll be right there.”

“But who—”

“Just the mailman,” you lied, kneeling down to smooth her hair. “He’s loud today.”

She stared up at you for a beat longer than usual, as if her tiny brain could already tell something wasn’t quite right. Then she nodded solemnly and padded back down the hallway, the rabbit dragging behind her like a weary soldier.

The knocking came again. Louder this time.

You straightened up, set the bag on the counter, and took a breath.

When you opened the door, the two men standing on the other side looked like they'd been born in leather jackets—one tall, one squat. Neither looked thrilled to be here, but they sure weren’t leaving empty-handed.

“Morning,” said the taller one, stepping forward without waiting for an invitation. “Nice day, huh?”

You didn’t respond. He took that as agreement.

“Mr. [Last Name],” said the shorter one. “We’re here about the debt.”

“I know.”

“Good.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Then you also know your payment was due four days ago.”

“I told you,” you said. “I’m working extra shifts. I’m doing what I can.”

The taller man walked a slow circle around your living room, peering at the cheap furniture like it offended him. “A place like this, I’m surprised you haven’t sold the kid’s toys yet.”

Your jaw tensed. “She’s four.”

The shorter man clucked his tongue. “And if you don’t have something by Friday, you’re going to be explaining that to the Boss in person. You know how he feels about delays.”

“I’m trying—”

“Try harder.”

They left without another word. The taller one flicked a crumpled cigarette onto your doormat and stomped it out as a parting gift.

You shut the door. Locked it. Then leaned against it with your eyes closed.

⋆｡°✩  

The silence in the apartment returned slowly, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the soft patter of small feet against tile.

“Papa?”

You opened your eyes and looked down. She was back, rabbit in hand.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Just tired.”

She wrapped her little arms around your leg, hugging you as best she could. Her cheek pressed against your jeans. “You’re not sad?”

You knelt again and pulled her into your arms properly, breathing in the smell of strawberry shampoo and comfort.

“I’m okay now,” you whispered into her hair. “Because I have you.”

⋆｡°✩  

You made pancakes for dinner.

It wasn’t your best work. The batter was too thin, the pan unevenly heated, and the only syrup left was the cheap, knockoff kind that smelled more like corn than maple. But she still grinned when you put the plate in front of her, legs swinging from the dining chair as she kicked at nothing in particular.

“Can I put peanut butter on it too?” she asked, already reaching for the jar.

“Only if you save a piece for Mr. Bun.”

“I always do,” she said with a solemn nod, as if it were some sacred pact between her and the stuffed rabbit.

You watched her eat, chewing slower than usual, trying to stall the moment. The kitchen light flickered overhead. The stack of unpaid bills on the counter seemed to grow by the day, and rent was due in less than a week. You didn’t know how you were going to pay off the collectors by Friday, let alone face the man behind them— the one they called their boss, in hushed, clipped tones.

A name you’d never heard until two weeks ago. A name that now haunted every idle moment.

You’d tried not to ask too many questions, but the way the others spoke about him made your skin crawl. Not loud, not showy — but dangerous. Not because of violence, but because of how controlled he was. And how rarely he needed to raise his voice to get things done.

You only owed him money because your original lender sold the debt off.

It wasn’t supposed to get this far.

“Papa?”

You blinked out of it. “Yeah, bug?”

She looked at you with peanut butter smeared on her chin. “Can we read the owl book again tonight?”

You smiled, even if it felt thin on your face. “Of course.”

⋆｡°✩  

She fell asleep curled beside you on the couch, mid-sentence, head tucked against your arm. The copy of The Owl Who Wasn’t Afraid of the Dark lay open in your lap, thumb still pressed to the page.

You didn’t dare move her. Not yet.

The room was quiet now, except for the muffled hum of the hallway outside. You could still hear footsteps every now and then—neighbours coming home, doors opening and shutting. It was the kind of rundown apartment block where the walls had ears, but no one cared enough to listen.

You leaned your head back and stared at the ceiling, one hand gently smoothing your daughter’s hair.

Then came the buzz of your phone.

You fumbled for it quietly, careful not to wake her.

Unknown Number

You stared at it. A second buzz followed — a text.

[ The Boss would like a word. You’ll want to make yourself available.

Tomorrow. 10 PM. Zia’s Diner. Come alone. ]

You didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to. Whoever sent it would already know you’d be there.

⋆｡°✩  

Zia’s Diner looked like it hadn’t changed since the '80s. Flickering neon sign. Red leather booths dulled from wear. Grease-stained menus laminated so many times the corners curled like dying leaves. It was the kind of place that smelled like burnt coffee and fried onions no matter what time of day you walked in. The kind of place where someone like you belonged.

Someone like the one you owe money to? Not so much.

You got there ten minutes early. Sat in the back corner booth, facing the entrance like you’d seen people do in mob movies. Ridiculous, really — like knowing who sat where would make any of this easier.

The waitress came by once, chewing gum and offering you a tired, sceptical look. “You ordering, or you waiting?”

“Just coffee,” you muttered, and she poured you a cup without a word.

You kept checking the time.

10:00 PM sharp, the bell above the door jingled.

He didn’t walk in with an entourage. No theatrics. No broad-shouldered bodyguards or gaudy suits. Just a man in a black wool coat, collar turned up against the wind, dark hair swept back with the ease of someone who didn’t need to try.

He didn’t look like a loan shark. He looked like he could be an architect. Or maybe a violinist. His features were clean-cut but strangely gentle, like someone who hadn’t always belonged to a world like this.

And then he looked at you.

A quick once-over. Not judgmental. Just... observant.

He made his way over with unhurried steps, slid into the booth across from you, and removed his gloves one finger at a time. The silence stretched, thick and taut.

“I’m glad you came,” he said at last. His voice was low, smooth, but not performative. Not like someone trying to play a role. “I didn’t want this to become unpleasant.”

You swallowed hard. “I figured it already was.”

He tilted his head slightly, almost like he was considering you. “It doesn’t have to be.”

You didn’t answer.

The waitress reappeared, looking more alert this time. “Coffee?”

“Tea,” he said, without looking at her. “Chamomile, if you have it.”

You blinked. Tea?

Once she left, he turned his gaze back to you. “You’re a difficult man to track down, considering you haven’t left your apartment in three days.”

Your jaw clenched. “I’ve been with my daughter.”

“I know.” His tone didn’t change, but there was something in his eyes now. Not softness — but interest. “She’s the one who likes the owl book, right?”

You stiffened. “You’ve been watching us?”

“I have people. They were concerned. It’s their job.”

“Concerned about what?”

He paused. Then: “About how a man ends up this deep in debt when he’s clearly not reckless.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. Because the worst part was— he wasn’t wrong.

He leaned back, resting his hands on the table. His fingers were long, elegant— with tattoos running across them.

“I didn’t call you here to threaten you,” he said calmly. “If I wanted to scare you, I’d have sent someone else.”

“So why did you call me here?”

His lips parted slightly, like he was about to answer. But then the tea arrived. He thanked the waitress with a quiet nod, waited until she was gone again.

And then he said:

“Because I don’t think you belong in this mess. And I’m interested in seeing how you get out of it.”

You stared at him, not sure if it was a trap. A test. Some kind of manipulation.

“Why?” you asked, voice quiet now. Honest.

He stirred a packet of honey into his tea. No rush. No tension. “You remind me of someone.”

That shut you up.

Not because you knew what it meant, but because of how he said it. Like it hurt to say. Like the memory was still raw, even if the delivery wasn’t.

He took a sip of his tea, eyes never leaving yours.

“Let’s talk about your debt,” he said.

⋆｡°✩  

You tried to read him. Failed.

Everything about him was composed — the measured way he spoke, the way he held his tea with both hands like it was a habit rather than a choice. His voice was quiet but sure, like he’d never once had to raise it to be heard.

He didn’t move like a man used to violence, but you knew better than to trust that.

“You said you wanted to talk about my debt,” you said after a beat, keeping your voice steady. “So talk.”

He gave a soft hum, almost amused. “Alright.”

From the inside pocket of his coat, he pulled out a thin leather folio and opened it on the table. You caught your name on one of the papers. Your signature on another. A string of numbers you didn’t want to look too closely at.

“I assume you know how much you owe.”

You nodded once. “Too much.”

“You’re not wrong.” He tapped a finger against the paper, not unkindly. “You took out the first loan eighteen months ago. Medical bills, yes?”

You stiffened. “My daughter was in the hospital. Pneumonia. We didn’t have insurance.”

He nodded like he already knew, which he probably did.

“And the second loan,” he continued, “was for rent, food, and utilities. You were out of work.”

“My hours got cut,” you muttered.

“And the third?”

You looked away. “Funeral expenses.”

Silence settled again. Not judgmental. Just quiet.

He closed the folder gently and folded his hands on top of it. “There are… less generous men you could’ve borrowed from. Men who would’ve already left a message on your doorstep. Or through your window.”

“I didn’t exactly get a choice in where the loans came from,” you snapped, sharper than you meant to.

He didn’t react. Didn’t flinch. Just watched you like he’d been expecting that edge to come out eventually.

“You’re right,” he said. “You didn’t. But you have one now.”

That gave you pause. “…What’s that supposed to mean?”

He leaned back, eyes steady.

“It means I’m offering to restructure your debt. Reduce the interest. Extend the timeline. Provide resources, if you need them.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why?”

He didn’t smile — but his mouth twitched, like he almost did.

“I told you. You remind me of someone.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“It is to me.”

You didn’t know what to do with that. Couldn’t decide if this was some twisted act of pity or a long con. But you weren’t used to people giving you anything. Especially not someone with this much power—with hands that clean, a gaze that calm, and a reputation like his.

He took another sip of his tea.

“I don’t expect you to trust me,” he said, almost kindly. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. But I want you to understand— I’m not doing this to trap you.”

“Then what do you want?”

His fingers paused on the edge of the cup.

“I want you to keep your daughter,” he said simply. “I want her to grow up safe. With her father.”

Something in your chest twisted. You looked down, jaw tight.

“That’s not your business.”

“Maybe not. But I’ve made it mine.”

You looked up again, and this time, there was no softness in your voice. “What do you get out of it?”

A longer pause.

He studied you, not like a man considering what to say, but like he was wondering how much you could handle. Like he’d already made up his mind.

“I’m not the villain you think I am,” he said finally. “But I’ve been one before. I know what it takes to get out.”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Your hands curled around your coffee cup, suddenly aware of the chipped ceramic, the cool air from the vents brushing your neck. A waitress refilled a glass of soda at another table. The world kept moving.

He stood slowly, gathering the folder and slipping it back into his coat.

“You don’t have to decide anything tonight,” he said. “But I’ll have someone drop off the new terms tomorrow. Look them over. Think about your kid.”

He turned to leave, then paused and glanced back at you one last time.

“And think about who you want to be when she looks back on this.”

And then he was gone.

Just like that.

⋆｡°✩  

You didn’t expect it to come in an envelope.

White. Thick. No return address.

It was on your doorstep when you got home from picking Nora up from daycare — tucked under the welcome mat like some dead thing left by a cat. You stared at it for a full minute before bending to pick it up, heart low in your chest.

She tugged on your sleeve. “What’s that, Daddy?”

“Nothing, bug.” You smiled, but your voice didn’t rise with it. “Go on in. I’ll be right there.”

She slipped past you with a squeal, barreling into the apartment and tossing her little backpack onto the floor. You shut the door behind her, thumb tracing the edge of the envelope as you walked to the kitchen. The light through the window was already fading to that washed-out grey of too-late afternoons. You tore it open without ceremony.

Inside: four pages, paper thick enough to feel expensive. No header, no signature — but you recognised the same smooth, sparse formatting from the mans’s folder at Zia’s—the new terms.

You skimmed.

Then read slower.

Then stopped.

He was serious.

— Outstanding balance: reduced by 40%. — Interest: frozen, pending further review. — Monthly payments: deferred for 3 months. — Conditions:

That last part made your stomach twist.

1. You will be reachable at all times. 2. You will submit proof of employment weekly. 3. You will meet with Mr. Marino in person at a time and place of his choosing. Frequency: open. 4. You will not attempt to renegotiate through any party other than Mr. Marino himself. 5. You will not disappear.

Regards, 

Felix Marino

That last line wasn’t underlined. But it didn’t need to be.

You sat down, the chair scraping across the tile.

It was clean. Too clean. He’d carved out the brutality and left behind something you could stomach — just enough rope to pull yourself up. Or hang yourself with.

In the distance, you heard Nora humming a song from her cartoons.

And you realised: you were already considering it.

⋆｡°✩  

The house is quiet after Nora falls asleep, sprawled out in her tiny bed with her stuffed rabbit tucked under her chin. You'd cleaned the chocolate from her face, tucked her in, and kissed her forehead like always. Pretended like nothing was wrong. Like there wasn’t a folded letter in your coat pocket that felt like it weighed more than your whole damn life.

You sit at the kitchen table, hands steepled, staring down at it again.

Felix Marino’s terms are clear:

Six months of contracted work

Weekly check-ins at a private location downtown

No questions asked about the nature of the work.

No outside contact with “competing interests”

Nora is off-limits. Her name isn’t even mentioned.

That part almost makes it worse.

Because you don’t think Felix left her out of the contract out of kindness.

You think it’s because he sees her as yours. And what belongs to you, by extension, belongs to him now.

You grip the paper until the crease deepens. This is a deal with the devil, no matter how cleanly it’s written. Still, you’ve seen worse. You’ve lived worse. And if this means keeping Nora safe—keeping your home, your job, your sanity—then what choice do you really have?

You’ll meet his terms. But you won’t let him sink his claws in.

You won’t let him think he has you.

Your phone buzzes on the table. A message. Just a location, a time.

[ Tomorrow, 11 AM.

Wear something decent. ]

You stare at the screen for a while before flipping it over and standing up. You clean the counter. Rinse the mugs. Check the locks on the doors twice. It’s routine, but you do it slower tonight.

Just before bed, you peek in on Nora one more time.

Her tiny chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. There’s drool on her pillow. You swallow the knot in your throat.

You hope to god she never has to know how close you came to losing everything.

⋆｡°✩  

The address Felix gave leads to a storefront with blackout windows and no signage. Inside, it's cleaner than expected. Sleek. Minimal. You’re greeted by a man in a tailored suit who doesn’t ask your name — just waves you through with a nod like you’re already known here.

You are, apparently.

A hallway. A door. A quiet room with a view of the city skyline. Felix is seated behind a polished desk, flipping lazily through a folder.

He doesn’t look up when he says, “You came.”

“Not like I had a choice.”

“Sure you did. You just didn’t like the alternatives.”

He gestures to the chair across from him. You sit, tense.

He finally lifts his gaze, eyes still unreadable. “How’s Nora?”

You narrow your eyes. “Fine. And she’s not part of this.”

“I never said she was.” He leans back, steepling his fingers. “Though you should know, this isn’t charity. You’ll work. I’ll watch. If I don’t like what I see, the terms change.”

“And if I don’t like what I see?”

“Then I’ll be disappointed,” Felix says, smooth as silk. “And trust me — you don’t want that.”

There’s a pause. You hate how calm he is. Like this is all part of some carefully laid plan. Maybe it is.

“You always recruit desperate dads into your service?”

“Only the interesting ones.”

You clench your jaw. “Why me?”

Felix shrugs, almost too casually. “Doesn’t matter.”

But it does matter. You can feel it.

The way he looks at you sometimes. Like he’s trying to find someone else in your face. Like you’re unfinished business.

You stand. “I’ll do what you asked. But keep the personal shit out of it.”

Felix watches you with that same unreadable gaze. “Whatever you say.”

But you can tell he’s already rewriting the rules.

⋆｡°✩  

You’d expected something bloodier.

Maybe it was the envelope. Maybe it was Felix’s eyes, the way he looked at you like you were already halfway his. Or maybe it was just the way his name lingered like a shadow behind every line of those new “terms.” Whatever it was, you thought there’d be blood. Screaming. A pipe wrench. Something straight out of a bad movie.

Instead, you’re standing outside a warehouse that looks too clean to be dangerous, which somehow makes it worse.

You glance down at the slip of paper again. One name. One address. Gallo. That’s all he gave you. No instructions. No backup. Just the duffel bag in your hand and a phone in your pocket that vibrated exactly once with a location pin and then went dead silent.

You should walk away. You should. But you think of Nora. Think of the groceries on the table this morning — not from your wallet. Think of the sharp suits you saw at your building’s entrance yesterday. Men who didn’t belong there. Men who made eye contact just long enough to remind you that you were being watched.

So you step inside.

The warehouse isn’t abandoned, but it’s not busy either. The air smells like oil and dust, and the lights overhead buzz faintly with age. You follow the sound of metal scraping across concrete until you see him — mid-40s, thick arms, cigarette tucked into the side of his mouth like it’s permanent.

“You Gallo?” you ask.

He looks up, unimpressed. “Who’s asking?”

You don’t answer. Just unzip the duffel and pull out the envelope inside — thick, sealed, and marked with the same insignia that was embossed into Felix’s letterhead.

He snorts. “About time.”

You hand it over. He rips it open, eyes scanning quickly. You can’t see the paper, but whatever’s written on it makes his jaw twitch.

“I paid last week,” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

You don’t move. Felix never said what to do after delivering the message. But you know better than to leave right away.

Gallo crumples the paper. “Son of a bitch,” he mutters. Then louder, “Tell Marino if he wants more outta me, he can come collect it himself.”

You exhale slowly. “I don’t think that’s how this works.”

He steps forward, chest puffed. “No? Then how does it work, ragazzo di merda?”

There’s a tension now — heavy and tight, like the moment before thunder. You don’t flinch, even when he gets close enough for you to smell the smoke on his breath. But your fingers twitch.

This isn’t a test of violence. It’s a test of restraint.

And you’re not sure which you’re worse at.

He laughs like he’s already won. Then, just when the silence threatens to stretch too far, he spits — right at your shoes.

You move fast. Maybe too fast. You don’t pull the knife, don’t throw a punch, but your hands are around his throat in a blink, and you shove him back hard enough that he slams against a shelf with a clang. A box of screws topples somewhere behind him.

“Try it again,” you say, low and even. “See what happens.”

You don’t remember drawing the knife.

All you remember is the way the air changed — thick, metallic, sharp with panic. One moment, Gallo’s guys were just shouting, posturing like men with too much testosterone and not enough brains. The next one of them rushed you. Pulled a gun. A warning shot, maybe. But it grazed your arm, and that was all it took to tip something inside you.

The rest is a blur. Screaming. A crash. A warm spray across your face that wasn’t your own.

You’re not trained for this.

You’re not supposed to be the guy standing in a warehouse full of broken bones and gasping, bloodied men, clutching a blade that’s slippery in your hand. You were a barista three years ago. A father. A husband, once.

But right now, you’re just a wreck. Shaking, breath jagged, body slick with sweat and blood — most of it not yours. The knife hits the floor with a metallic clatter. Your legs feel like paper.

The phone in your pocket buzzes once.

A location pin.

No words.

Your hands are still trembling as you stumble out into the alley, back pressed to the cool brick wall as your knees threaten to buckle. You press your palm to the wound on your arm, but you can’t even tell if it’s deep. All you can feel is the adrenaline, burning like acid through your veins.

The car pulls up exactly two minutes later.

Sleek. Black. Expensive in the quiet, menacing kind of way.

The passenger door opens, and Felix is already waiting inside.

You hesitate. Just for a second.

Then you climb in, dragging the bloodied duffel with you. You don’t speak. You can’t.

He says nothing at first. Just watches. His gaze skims your face, your hands, the splotches on your shirt. His nostrils flare, faintly. His jaw clenches.

Then his voice comes, low and velvety.

“You did well.”

You flinch.

Well?

Is this what “well” looks like?

You open your mouth to say something — anything — but it all dies on your tongue. You feel like you're floating outside yourself, like your body isn’t quite yours. Like you're going to pass out.

Felix notices. Of course he does.

He leans in, slow and deliberate. His hand moves to your jaw— firm, and tilts your face toward him.

“You’re shaking.”

No shit. You laugh — a broken, awful sound that doesn’t feel real.

Felix hums, then shifts in his seat. The partition behind you slides up without a sound, cloaking the two of you in soft shadows.

“I told you I wanted to see what you could handle,” he murmurs. “You didn’t disappoint.”

“I almost died,” you manage to whisper.

“Mm,” he says, thumb brushing along your cheek. “But you didn’t.”

You don’t realise your hands are clenched in your lap until he notices. He undoes your seatbelt. Leans down.

“I can help,” he says softly, fingers already trailing down your thigh. “Let me.”

You’re still bloodstained. You still feel sick. But your cock betrays you — twitching in your jeans under his touch like it doesn’t care that you’re half-feral from adrenaline and trauma.

He smiles faintly. Like he expected that.

“Poor thing,” Felix says, voice thick with amusement and something deeper. “All wound up. All that fear. All that pressure.”

His hand slides over the bulge in your pants, slow and possessive. Your breath catches.

“You’re shaking so much,” he murmurs. “You need to calm down. Just relax.”

You don’t. Can’t. But your hips twitch anyway.

Felix is patient. Cruel in his gentleness. His fingers undo your jeans with practised ease, and the second he wraps his hand around your cock— warm, firm, steady— you nearly choke on a gasp. The pleasure spikes sharply and fast, edged with guilt and something darker.

You shouldn’t want this. Not now. Not here. Not after—

“Don’t think,” he says quietly. “Just feel.”

Your head hits the seat behind you. Your hands tremble uselessly in your lap as he strokes you—not fast, not slow, just right. His thumb circles the head on every upward pull, milking soft, breathless moans out of you.

“You’ve been good,” he whispers, voice like velvet steel. “Brave. I take care of what’s mine.”

You don’t know when that happened — when you became his. But it’s too late now. His hand keeps working you through it, coaxing you toward a high you didn’t ask for but can’t stop chasing. Heat pools low in your belly. Your eyes squeeze shut. You’re going to—

“Come for me,” he breathes, leaning in. “That’s it. Let go.”

And you do.

It rips out of you like a sob. Messy. Shuddering. You curl in on yourself as your body wracks with release, nerves flayed raw.

Felix doesn’t flinch at the mess. He just wipes his hand, then guides your head down to rest against his shoulder. You’re still panting, still dazed, blood drying on your clothes — and he strokes your hair like you’re something precious.

Like you're his favourite broken thing.

⋆｡°✩  

You leave the bathroom light on.

Not because Nora’s scared of the dark anymore. She’s been sleeping through the night since she was three. It’s for you.

You’re the one who wakes up in cold sweats now. You’re the one who flinches at door hinges creaking and cars idling too long outside the window. You’re the one staring at the nursery monitor like something might crawl through it.

There’s no crying. Just the soft hum of static.

She’s curled up on her side, one arm flung above her head, mouth open in that completely unselfconscious way only kids manage. Her stuffed bear is trapped beneath her chest like a casualty, and you don’t dare move it. You don’t dare move anything.

You sit on the edge of your bed, clothes still crusted in spots with things you scrubbed off hours ago. You’re not sure how you’re still breathing. Or why you are.

Your hands shake. Not like before—this is quieter. Numb.

Your phone buzzes once on the nightstand. You don’t check it. You already know who it is.

You already know what he’ll say. Good work. I told you you could handle it. You’re not sure if that’s supposed to be a compliment or a warning.

The monitor hisses softly, then goes silent. You keep watching it anyway.

Taglist: @zolass @edensrose @tamias-wrld @ilovesugurugeto69 @planetxella @mazettns @longlivegojo @midnight-138 @literallyrousseau @vimademedoitt @useless-n-clueless @flatl1n3 @hikaurbae @lexkou @razefxylorf @abrielletargaryen @coco-145 @eagleeyedbitch @deathofacupid @gayaristocrat @porcalinecunt @whatsaheartxx @thecringes2000 @sageofspades @g4vcat @itsrandompersonyall @blvdprn @blueemochii @sappychat @onyxxxxqq @axetivev @s1llygo0s3 @crazydirectioner2000-blog @thestarsallowed @honey-valentin3 @academiq @gaozorous-rex-blog @idkmissgurl @sooniebby @seomn

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.

[sunshinesfreckless]

Bias Wrecker

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Pairing: Idol!Felix x Fan!FemReader

Summary: Felix crashes during a concert — but luckily, there’s a pretty Hyunjin stan nearby to help him release all that pent-up energy.

Warnings: DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU’RE A MINOR. Includes Felix bending reader over and fucking her raw.

A/N: See how she didn’t freak out over seeing Felix or disrespect his privacy? And got his D as a reward? Very sweet, very calm fan behavior. ♡

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

“FUCK.”

The word exploded out of Felix like a bullet, reverberating through the dim alleyway as his boot connected with the dented trash can, sending it crashing against the brick wall. The hollow clang echoed into the emptiness, sharp and ugly. His chest heaved.

His hands found his hips, jaw clenched so tight he could feel the pressure in his temples. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, and he tore a hand through his perfectly styled blond hair, messing it up without care. The stadium roared in the background — a tidal wave of cheering fans, lights flashing, cameras everywhere. But here? It was quiet. Secluded. Hidden.

And still not far enough.

He hated it. The constant eyes. The pretending. The fucking choreography corrections at the last second. The media training. The handlers. The no-time-to-breathe life that chewed you up if you didn’t smile on command. Chan was probably looking for him by now, probably telling someone to stall the encore. But Felix couldn’t go back out there. Not yet.

His fingers curled into fists, nails biting into his palms.

Then — a door creaked open behind him. Footsteps paused.

Felix turned his head slowly, his whole body humming with fury — only to freeze.

A girl stood in the doorway, bathed in the orange glow of the alley’s security light. She looked like trouble in the best way. Short denim skirt clinging to her hips like it was made to be peeled off. Platform boots that made her legs look endless. An oversized Stray Kids jersey stretched over her chest, the number 8 in bold white, and beside it… a fucking Hyunjin ferret print. Seriously?

His eyes traveled up to her face — flushed from running, lips parted, glossed. She blinked, like she hadn’t expected to stumble into anyone, let alone a pissed-off idol.

“Sorry,” she said softly, voice breathy, like she’d just run from somewhere. Or maybe like she liked what she saw.

Felix exhaled through his nose, shoulders still tense.

“You’re good…” he muttered, voice low and raspy.

“I… I was looking for the toilets,” she added quickly, eyes flicking to the dented trash can and back to him. “Wrong door?”

Felix’s lips curved — not in amusement. Something darker.

“Wrong door, sweetie,” he said, drawl thick with something dangerous. “Go down the hall. Left.”

But she didn’t move. Not right away. Her eyes lingered on him, curious. Her stare flicked over the way his chest rose and fell under his stage tank, his jaw tight with frustration, the disheveled hair, the red Jacket. Like she saw the chaos in him — and didn’t want to look away.

And maybe that made him even angrier.

She tilted her head, lips quirking as her eyes raked over him — his flushed skin, his heaving chest, the sweat at his temples.

“Shouldn’t you be on stage?”

Felix’s tongue slid across his lower lip as he gave a slow, deliberate nod. His gaze didn’t leave hers.

“Shouldn’t you be sitting in the crowd?”

She smirked. “I’m standing, actually.”

“Didn’t see you there.”

“A lot of fangirls in front of me, I guess.”

Felix let out a breath of something close to a laugh, but it was low, strained, like he was barely holding something in. His eyes dropped for a second, then came back up — slow and hungry.

“Well, a pretty face like yours seems hard to overlook.”

That made her smile, just a little. She shifted her weight casually, the movement making her denim skirt ride just a little higher on one thigh. Felix noticed. His jaw flexed.

“You good?” she asked, watching him more carefully now. “You seem… wired.”

His voice was quiet when it came.

“You ever feel like you’re gonna lose it if one more person tells you what to do?”

She blinked, unsure if it was rhetorical. But Felix didn’t wait for an answer. He stepped closer, slow and predatory, until the heat from his body washed over her.

“I can’t go back out there like this,” he murmured, voice low, almost a growl. “I’m so fucking pent up I could break something.”

He looked her over — from the curve of her waist to the sliver of thigh beneath that skirt — and then locked eyes again.

“Unless you wanna help me burn it off.”

Her lips parted slightly. “…Excuse me?”

“I’m serious,” he said, not breaking eye contact. “Right here. Right now. I need it.”

She could’ve sworn no one had ever made her feel this dizzy, this dangerously turned on — not with just a few fucking words. Her fingers tightened around the door handle like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

“How…” she started, but her voice cracked, breath catching.

Felix didn’t answer with words. Instead, his palm drifted down, slow and deliberate, brushing over the outline of his cock through his pants. His jaw clenched. Eyes fixed on her like she was prey.

Her stomach flipped.

That casual touch alone sent a shockwave between her legs.

His stage outfit clung to him in all the right ways, damp at the collarbones with sweat. God, he looked like sin.

Her breath came quicker. Was she really about to do this?

Getting fucked by Felix. Raw. In his stage outfit. With his voice still raspy from yelling, and that pent-up anger simmering under every move.

She didn’t say a word. Just let the door click shut behind her and stepped fully inside the alley, her heels echoing slightly against the cement.

One step. Two.

His gaze dropped to her legs as she slowly made her way down the stairs, the skirt shifting again, teasing more skin. His tongue darted out over his lip — brief, but loaded.

She stopped in front of him, barely a breath of space between them.

He grabbed her waist in one swift motion, pulling her against him like he couldn’t wait another second. The force of it made her gasp softly — his hands were rough, urgent, but still careful, like he didn’t want to break her. Not unless she asked him to.

Felix bent down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he spoke — low, dark, breath hot.

“Are you a virgin?”

His voice was so soft it was almost reverent — but laced with hunger, a growl beneath it.

She swallowed, heart pounding wildly against her ribs. “No,” she whispered, already breathless.

“Good.” His hands slid down to her ass, gripping hard enough to make her knees go weak. His voice dropped another octave, filthy.

“Then you can take what I’m about to give you.”

Before she could react, he moved — spinning her around.

He bend her forward over the edge of the nearby trash can. It was dented, cold against her thighs, but none of it mattered. Not when Felix shoved her down with one palm between her shoulder blades, the other hand yanking her skirt up over her ass with no ceremony.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered behind her, the sound guttural. “You came out here dressed like this? Skirt riding up, platform boots, no clue what that does to me?”

Her panties were soaked through — and he let his fingertips trail lightly across the damp fabric. Teasing. Just enough to make her hips twitch backward toward him.

“Oh, fuck me,” he exhaled sharply. “You’re dripping through this. You wanted someone to ruin you tonight, huh?”

She whined, humiliated and turned on and breathless.

He hooked a finger around the side of her panties and pulled them aside roughly, exposing her soaked folds to the cool alley air — and to him. He didn’t touch. Not yet. Just stared.

“Look at this pretty little pussy,” he growled. “So wet for me already. All this from a few words?”

He slid two fingers through her slit, slow and deep — spreading her slick, watching it catch the light.

“Fucking slippery,” he groaned. “You don’t need prep. You’re begging for cock.”

“Felix,” she gasped, arching back against his hand, “please…”

“You want it raw?” he asked, voice dark, unfiltered, panting. His hand palmed her ass hard, gripping her like it was his. “You want me to fuck you bare in this alley where anyone could walk out that door and see you bent over for me?”

“Yes,” she moaned. “Yes, please—”

That was all he needed.

She heard the hiss of his zipper, the clink of his belt falling open. Then the hot, heavy weight of his cock sliding against her folds — thick, pulsing, leaking.

“Fuck,” he hissed, grinding the head of it up and down her entrance, spreading her slick. “Gonna feel every inch of me, baby. I’m gonna split you open on this cock until you forget your fucking name.”

And then — he slammed into her in one brutal thrust.

She cried out, loud, but the sound was swallowed by the alley as Felix buried himself to the hilt. The stretch was obscene, brutal, but her body welcomed him like it was made for this. He didn’t give her time to adjust — he was too far gone. He drew back and slammed in again, harder.

His grip on her hips was bruising now. His thrusts came fast, filthy, brutal — skin slapping, breath ragged.

“Fucking tight,” he grunted. “You feel that? How deep I am?”

She could only moan in response, hands gripping the trash can’s edge like her life depended on it.

“Take it,” he growled, slamming in again, harder, deeper. “Take every inch. Just like a good little slut.”

The sound of their bodies echoed in the alley — slick, wet, raw. Her moans, his curses, the sharp rhythm of his hips.

And he wasn’t slowing down.

“Tell me something,” Felix growled against the back of her neck, hips still snapping into her with ruthless, desperate rhythm. “Is Hyunjin still your bias?”

Her head jerked up in shock — but she couldn’t speak. Not with his cock grinding against that spot that made her toes curl, not with her brain short-circuiting from overstimulation.

“Hmm?” He slapped her ass, hard, making her gasp. “You wear his Pin. You swoon over him online. But who’s got you bent over a fucking trash can right now?”

She whimpered, fingers slipping as she gripped the metal edge tighter. “Y-You…”

“That’s right. Me.” His voice was low, primal, broken. “You think Hyunjin would fuck you like this? Watch you take it raw with your skirt up and your panties pushed to the side like a cheap slut?”

A sob tore from her throat — high-pitched, aching — and he fucked her harder.

“You think he’d be proud?” he growled. “Proud that his little fan’s out here getting bred by me in a back alley like a dirty little secret?”

“Felix—!”

“You gonna forget about him now?” He leaned over her, one hand wrapping around her throat from behind — not squeezing, just holding, grounding her while he pounded into her mercilessly. “Forget that bias shit. You’re mine now.”

She cried out, hips bucking, tears in her lashes. “I’m yours—I’m yours—I’m—”

“Fuck, I’m close.” He bit her shoulder through the fabric. “Gonna fill you up. You want that? You want my cum leaking out of you while you go back into that stadium full of people?”

“Yes, please, do it—”

The sound of a door slamming open in the distance cut through the haze — the heavy metal creak of it echoed down the alley. It was the Door outside next to their dressing room. He knew exactly who it was.

Footsteps. Fast.

Felix didn’t stop.

He snarled under his breath, his grip on her tightening as he slammed into her one last time — deep, hard, brutal — and came inside her with a guttural moan, spilling deep and raw.

Her entire body shook, held up only by his grip and the dented trash can beneath her. She gasped, eyes wide and dazed, still pulsing around him as he stayed buried inside.

Then—

“Felix!”

Chan’s voice rang out.

Fuck.

Felix turned his head just as Bang Chan rounded the corner into the alley. His chest was heaving, clearly pissed, clearly searching — and then he saw her.

Still bent over. Skirt pushed up. Felix’s hands on her hips. His cock still inside her.

Time stopped.

Chan’s mouth parted slightly, jaw tense, face unreadable.

She turned her face away, flushed and trembling, but Chan’s eyes were locked on Felix.

Not a word was said.

Not yet.

Chan’s jaw clenched, nostrils flaring. He stared at Felix like he didn’t know whether to drag him off her or kill him on the spot.

Felix exhaled shakily, his hands sliding slowly off her hips as he pulled out — cum already starting to drip down her inner thigh.

Chan’s voice was low. Controlled. Deadly.

“You fucked a fan?”

Felix didn’t answer.

He couldn’t.

Chan turned on his Heel.

“You have five fucking minutes,” he bit out, voice tight. “Clean yourself up. Get to the stylist. They’re stalling for you already.”

Chan didn’t even look at her. Didn’t even flinch.

He stared at the opposite wall, jaw clenched so hard it looked painful, giving her whatever privacy he could. Because he was furious — but he wasn’t cruel.

“I’ll tell them you threw up. Don’t make me a liar,” he muttered, and without waiting for an answer, he stormed off — the metal door slamming behind him with finality.

The silence he left behind was heavy.

Felix exhaled. Shaky. Spent. Still panting a little as he tucked himself away and straightened up. Then he looked at her — still bent slightly forward, thighs shaking, hair messy, shame crawling hot across her cheeks.

“Hey,” he said softly.

She didn’t look at him.

But he stepped closer, pulled something small from his pocket — a little pin, yellow and smiling.

Bbokari.

He reached over and, without a word, unclipped the Hyunjin ferret button from her jersey. Replaced it with the bbokari pin.

“There,” he murmured. “That’s better.”

She blinked up at him, wide-eyed, dazed, lips parted like she still couldn’t believe what had just happened.

“You good?” he asked gently, crouching just a bit to meet her gaze. His voice was low again, but this time soft. Tender. “Need help walking?”

She nodded, helpless.

He slipped an arm around her waist and helped her stand, his touch careful now — like she was glass. Her legs were trembling, and the moment she tried to step, she stumbled again. He caught her easily, chuckling under his breath.

“I really did a number on you, huh?” he teased quietly.

She gave him a look, and he smiled — wide and boyish, like he hadn’t just ruined her life and wrecked her body against a trash can.

As they reached the hallway again, he paused by a small metal table near the staff entrance. Snagged a tiny scrap of paper from a clipboard and scribbled something on it with the pen tied to the cord.

He handed it to her before she could ask.

His number.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he said, cocking his head and flashing that sweet, impossible smile.

She stared at the paper. Then back at him.

He winked.

And just like that, Felix walked away — heading toward the main corridor, where the muffled roar of the crowd still echoed beyond the walls.

She stood there frozen, fingers gripping the note, jersey crooked, thighs sticky, literal cum dripping out of her in her Panties — and her heart thudding like the bass drop to her favorite track.

Hyunjin might have been her bias.

But Felix just made sure he’d be her problem for a very, very long time.

[ybklix]

𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

۶ৎ giving your boyfriend a gift that will help him in his long and lonely nights when you can’t be there for him. ⋆˚࿔ pairing: idol bf felix x fem reader

cw: mdni, smut, softdom felix, masturbation, fingering, teasing, overstimulation, sextape, sextoys, slight dirty talk, pet names, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, backshots, creampie.

wc: 7.3k

｡°❀ 🫧 into you by ariana grande ‧ꕤ.ﾟ🫧 good for you by selena gomez ｡°❀ 🫧pornstar by nessa barret ‧ꕤ.ﾟ🫧

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 .𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

wen’s note: im delulu rn, I love my man :3 !! sorry (a freshly cooked fic—that hasn’t been in the drafts for monthssss, enjoy) + im backkk yassss:)

It’s your last day. The last day the two of you will be together, physically, for a long time. In a few hours, very early in the morning, you will take a flight back ‘home’ —if you can call home wherever Felix isn’t with you— and you will feel nothing but sadness and emptiness. You just know that days are approaching when a video call with him is what keeps you happy.

Your love life with Felix is facing another challenge: overcoming the distance between you. You don’t usually complain much about it, as you don’t want to be a burden to Felix, constantly complaining how much you miss him when he has to go far away, doing what he is most passionate about in the world, you know how much it means to him to be on stage, so you shut up all the whims you think because of the huge need to have him next to you all the time. So sadly, it’s just your last day on your quick visit, and, as much as you’d like to be there for him, going from city to city, country to country on his tour, you both have your respective lives. It was so painful just thinking about when the next time you will be able to see him.

So, you just decide to enjoy every moment together, trying not to think about the cruel reality that is approaching. Tonight, you are about to go out, taking advantage of the fact that it’s Felix’s short break and his concert is tomorrow. So you’re getting all dolled up, trying a soft and subtle makeup, pretty enough to take pictures with your boyfriend and calm your hair as best as you can, while choosing a cute, modest and inconspicuous outfit, since you’ll be wearing a cap anyway, because you have to go incognito all the time with Felix, plus Seungmin and Jeongin would join your date, just to have them as the perfect excuse if someone recognizes your super star boyfriend, so their eyes would go to the super star trio and not you and Felix only.

Night is just falling, painting the sky a beautiful color and reflecting in the huge window of the hotel room. Felix is face down on the bed, using his brand-new cellphone, relaxed and happy, waiting for you to finish getting ready so he can call his friends and go out to explore the city.

“Wow, baby, the quality is insane.”

You hear Felix say, happy and excited, followed by the sheets shifting, indicating that he has stood up. You come out of the bathroom, with a smile as you put on your earrings and see your boyfriend, standing in front of the large window filming the view with his cell phone.

“Really? Let me see, love” you reply, moving closer to him.

As soon as Felix hears your voice and senses your presence, he turns his body with a tender smile and records you approaching him. Felix seems to be happy with the gift of his new cell phone, which he made a whole advertising campaign for. He records you standing in front of him for a few seconds, and then turns his body with his device towards the cityscape behind the window. You crane your neck to see the screen, but you turn your attention away when you see how cute your boyfriend looks, his tender smile and his carefree no-makeup look perfectly highlighting the smoothness of his skin with his visible freckles. You said nothing more than a simple:

“I’m almost ready… just let me put on my setting spray and gloss. You can call Seungmin and Jeongin already if you want.”

Felix keeps recording, motioning his arm gently, he gives you a quick glance along with a smile as a sign that he heard you, and you walk to complete your look so you can stroll with your boyfriend, one night before you leave and not see him for a month.

“Oh, almost forgot!” Felix exclaims, he stops recording and puts the cell phone back in his pocket quickly; you turn to look at him, confused since he got your attention. “I’ll help you pack so you don’t come from the date doing it.”

“Oh, Felix, you don’t have to…” you comment sweetly, touched that he feels he has to help you with everything.

He doesn’t listen to you, and you watch him tenderly take from one of the bedroom chairs the Louis Vuitton travel bag in its classic, signature print that he gifted you, and places it on the bed.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, sweetheart. Go finish getting ready, I’ll help you with this real quick.”

You chuckle softly, and in less than two minutes, you’re completely ready. You approach your boyfriend, playfully and plop down on the bed, close to him and your bag, as you watch him tenderly folding your clothes that were lying on the bed and arrange them inside the bag.

“I’m ready” you say, with a sigh.

The truth is, you don’t want the day to go on as it means it’s getting less and less time before you have to go and leave him.

“I’m almost done, princess. You look beautiful, by the way” he replies, focused on your clothes.

You let him do it because you know he’s a bit stubborn, and then he’d go and complain to you that you need to get your act together. You watch him, nonchalant, in no hurry for him to finish, staying with him like this, even in the silence, feels so good, so right, and calm.

Felix can’t help but blush, though, realizing that this is the fifth set of lingerie he’s had to pack for a trip you’ve only been with him for three days. So he jokes a little with you about it.

“Mmm… you kind of packed a lot of lingerie, don’t you think, princess? I’ve seen more pretty panties than blouses of yours.”

Felix raises his gaze, watching you with a playful, suggestive look and a mischievous smile as he carefully folds one of your blue panties, a part of the full set. You smile broadly, you can’t help it, still feeling a smoldering embarrassment with mischief.

“I know. I’m sorry… I didn’t know which one was the best, so I brought several options.”

“Whatever you wear looks beautiful on you” he whispers softly, causing heat to your cheeks.

Felix takes another pair of cheeky panties and spreads them out, teasing you with a smirk.

“Can I keep one?” his eyebrow twitches, cheekily.

“Felix!” you laughed, your eyes widening in surprise and playfully snatching the garment from him to drop it into your purse, your cheeks burning hot, as if he hadn’t seen all of you before. “The boys are going to think they’re your panties... but it’s okay, you can keep them, you’re the one who buys them for me, anyway.” You tilt your head, “Do you want something sweet to remember me?” you joke, teasing him.

He laughs, licking his lips, staring at you as he instinctively bites his bottom lip. “Which one will you wear tonight for me, huh? You have plenty of options, doll…. You should have modeled all your options for me, I’d have loved to see that.”

His voice sounds rough, a confession somewhere between a joke and a tone of absolute truth. You know perfectly well how much he loves to dress you in pretty lingerie, tease you in it and then end up naked, or just fucking you with it on. Felix stops his action, waiting for a response from you, but with the intensity of his gaze, you were already short of breath. There is a feigned innocence in his sweet face that contrasts with that look and soft grin you know so well. He is trying to start something.

“I can do it tonight… but can you handle it?” you raise your eyebrows, subtly teasing him further.

Your intentions are not to start something sexual just now, you were just about to go out on the town… two of his best friends are waiting to be given the signal to go out the four of you… but the way he smiles, superficially running the tip of his tongue across his lips to then catch his muscle between his teeth, is giving you another kind of impression... A subtle, cheeky, kind of dirty impression.

He looks at you for a few seconds, doesn’t respond, and lowers his gaze back to your clean clothes, ready to pack, and that’s when you notice his true intention.

“Oh look at this one, it’s too pretty, why didn’t you wear it for me?”

Felix changes the subject, still using his flirtatious and suggestive tone. You watch his hands take from the small pile of clothes a tiny piece of clothing, a white thong so sheer it covered practically nothing and, he subtly shows it to you.

You feel warmth in your cheeks again. Somehow you find it slightly embarrassing when he shows it to you like this, so suddenly. But what’s slowly ruining it for you is knowing exactly what your boyfriend wanted.

“Although I confess… there’s not much to wear with this so small” he laughs, examining the garment.

You watch your boyfriend’s face, his gaze lingering on that garment you packed when you thought of him, when you thought of all the nights you couldn’t be together and how much you wanted to make up for all that time. The shame leaves your body as you notice how obviously excited Felix is now, you know him so well, despite him wearing an oversized shirt, you can notice so clearly the change in his breathing, the change in his gaze, his more serious expression.

He looks back at you, almost guilty that his thoughts have been discovered and you find his reaction adorable, quickly looking away from you and sighing subtly in halting breath as he puts the thong in your bag, pretending nothing happened.

You examine him. The silence speaks for itself, in a way it’s loaded with adorable tension, because you love him too much, because you know what he wants but you both don’t know how to say it… at least the first few seconds. You smile happily, thinking it’s cute that he’s most likely already hard from just imagining you in that little garment… and you find it ridiculous… because Felix had you right there, now, in front of him, willing and madly in love with him, if your boyfriend wants to fuck you right now, he can. Now, while he still can.

“Felix” you call his name softly.

Now you’re the one looking at him intently.

“Mhumm?” he hums softly, unable to look you in the eye.

It’s true. You know him so well. Felix is terribly and helplessly aroused. Just with the power of his thought, with your closeness, with the intoxicating smell of your perfume that drives him crazy… at the same time he is just as, if not more, sad than you as he tries to pretend that everything is fine, but he is going to miss you deeply. Not seeing you until further notice… until you both can match… is killing him alive.

“You want me to wear it… for you?”

“Wear what, my love?” he pretends not to know, but his erection grows each time in his pants.

He doesn’t know what he’s thinking clearly… maybe that he’ll just get over the feeling, that he’ll be fine and have you all to himself after your nice date. But who is he fooling, he is never casual about you, neither takes you lightly. You on the other hand, know exactly what state his body and mind is in… but you can’t confirm it due to the bag blocking your view of his bulge a bit.

“The… thong you said was pretty.”

You feel slightly embarrassed. You find the word thong immaturely amusing.

Felix dares to look at you, notices the seriousness of your face, your cheeks slightly pink naturally beyond the blush you’re wearing. So what if you both want it? He’s your boyfriend and can tell you anything with confidence. Still, he responds demurely:

“Yes, when we come from the date. You’ll look beautiful in it.”

Felix flashes a smile and remains determined to finish your travel bag. You find it nerve-wracking, for a few seconds, as you’re getting impatient… and slightly horny at the thought of tasting your boyfriend right now, right there.

“Are you okay?” you ask more curtly.

He nods, making a nonchalant grimace. You can’t believe it.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Your smile widens, more brazenly. You don’t know if he’s tentatively playing with you, faking that innocence so he can get closer to you.. either way, it’s already starting, you can feel it in the air, it’s undeniable, deep and tangible.

“Because I think you got so worked up from just imagining me in those panties… do you want me to wear them for you, right now, baby?” you drop, slowly and seductively.

A sultry voice and piercing gaze that made Felix shudder and swallow nervously. Felix’s breath shortens, and his world stops for a second, and the silence speaks for itself once again. No matter how many times he makes you his, each time it impresses him and sends his feelings into overdrive as if it’s the first time he’s going to touch you; he adores you with that intensity.

“C’mon, baby, you know you can take me right now if you want. I’m always ready for you” you almost beg.

The corners of his lips quiver at your confession, trying to contain a flirtatious, nervous smile of utter glee. This time, he’s really playing with you as he says more confidently, trying to keep his sanity.

“No, love… I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m fine.”

You raise your eyebrows, incredulous, inviting him to keep challenging you.

“Oh yeah? Then stop that and call Seungmin and Jeongin already to leave, now” you mention, more impatient, challenging him.

Felix runs his tongue along the inside of his cheeks, amused, finding it amusing the way you’ve figured him out, that you’ve won, that you know exactly his next move, it’s obvious he can’t do it, he has an uncontrollable erection caused by you. You take your garments from his hand, approaching him slowly and dangerously, finally pushing aside the bag, in effect revealing the noticeable bulge in his shorts.

You smirk nervously, watching his notorious erection and then directing your gaze until you fix it on his eyes, his nice, dark, big eyes, changing in seconds, from soft domination, to needing to be touched.

You move closer to him without standing completely, dragging your bottom across the bed until you are finally facing him, his vulnerable aroused body, his bulge in front of you, begging for your strokes and attention, causing in you the sweet throbbing of your sex, your body rushing rapidly, heart pounding, breath hitching and the sublime, dominating sight of your aroused boyfriend clouding your judgment, your judgment to keep your temper.

“Well… you’re indeed fine…” you look down at his bulge brazenly and return your submissive eyes to him, your mouth salivating loudly, “But what kind of girlfriend would I be if I don’t take care of my needy boyfriend?”

He gives you a half smile and strokes your hair with his right hand gently. You place your hands on either side of his thighs and bring your face close to his body, close enough to brush against his erection, teasing him, tensing him, raising your gaze to convey to him through your gaze all that you may be capable of right now. You maintain eye contact, your body squeezes his erection tighter, causing him to bite his lip hotly, holding in a moan… You are both being painfully patient with each other; it kills you in a way that is both ardent and pleasurable at the same time. His grip on your hair becomes more consistent, heavy, and intense. You let your chin rest on his abdomen and your hands seek to caress his thighs, finding the feel of his cell phone in his pockets. You’re so fucking turned on that anything slightly incoherent would come up in your mind.

You smile mischievously, in the way only Felix knows, in the way that brings out your deepest, hottest side that he knows as a map by heart. You pull away from him, grab his cell phone out of his pocket suddenly and wiggle it in your hand; your boyfriend looks at you in confusion. Felix knows you so well that, in his voice exquisitely thicker, and excited, than usual, he murmurs a soft,

“What’s on your mind, my pretty baby?”

He watches you from above, gently lowering his head to look at you because of your angle. You find him so fucking attractive, every faction of his face, of his agitated body trying to appear to be at ease, you suddenly needing him so badly that you could suck him off right there, suffice it to just pull down his shorts and underwear. But no, your heat was so intense that, with intense joy, your boyfriend’s new cell phone in hand, your core throbbing and your heart pounding with aggression, you said almost passionately:

“Is the quality that good?” Felix squints his eyes, inviting you to continue, still not fully understanding your idea, but extremely immersed and excited at whatever it is. “Why… don’t you put it to the test one more time…. By recording something so exclusive to you… Something to help you, Lix. Why don’t I give you something for when I’m not there for you? Who’s going to take care of you after all the euphoria you experienced on stage, huh? And you have to go back to your lonely, quiet hotel room...”

“Y/n…” he whispers, confused, breathless, almost in a soft moan, still letting himself be carried away by your words that sweetened and shivered every inch of him.

“Record me, Felix. Do it for the nights when we can’t be together.”

A sextape. The idea warms his virile, weak body wrapped in desire and love for you. Nudes… are a bit of a touchy subject, as you are somewhat paranoid, you live in fear that for some reason they might hack you, and Felix will be severely affected, you don’t even care if your nudes are exposed, it’s him you fear the most. So you’ve spent nights… long and lonely, when you’re away, living on phone sex, stimulating yourself only with his voice, remembering and imagining the feel of him, of the image of his body against yours.

Still, the idea worries Felix, that his reaction seems tender to you, because, despite being extremely horny and accepting at first without reneging, he had to make sure first, reflecting in his handsome face concern.

“A video? Princess, are you sure? Is that what you want?”

He knows how you approach a subject that the two of you have already touched on. But you nod deeply and submissively without taking your eyes off him.

“Just record me…. Lix, you don’t have to be on frame… It’s for when you get lonely and miss me.”

He sighs and seems to be slightly perplexed.

“Come on, Felix. Don’t you want to? Your body tells me otherwise...”

You begin to tease him, stroking his stiff cock over the thin fabric of his shorts. He moans, closes his eyes and nods. He needs you. Now.

“All right, princess. Let’s do this.”

Your face reflects soft victory. You leave his cell phone next to you on the bed and stand up abruptly, reaching into your purse for that little thong that caused this whole effect on both of you. Felix watches you, you are impatient, you act fast, so fast that you start undressing right in front of him. Felix blinks incredulously and in one swift movement, boldly and dirtyly grabs his phone, not wanting to miss a moment of what he is experiencing. His cock throbs hard, thinking in the future how painfully pleasurable it will be to masturbate to an obscene video of you, thinking of the dirty, exquisite fantasy that is this experience. He begins to videotape you, this time without shame, your clothes falling to the floor. Both sexes beg desperately to be touched and the silence of the room is so tense that you feel that your loud heartbeat can be heard, that was the disturbingly exciting thing about the hotel rooms you spend so much time in with Felix, the silence, the distinct sound of your heavy breathing.

Felix licks his lips, losing himself in the image of his phone capturing your body, then watching you. He sighs again, half-heartedly.

“Can I… at least talk?” he says. “If I’m not going to be fully part… if this ever comes out… can I say my voice is AI?”

You giggle. “Of course you can talk… this video is completely just for you.”

You look into the camera and then straight into your boyfriend’s eyes. Felix is disturbingly horny, impatient, but something in his expression expresses that he can resist, that he’s enjoying all of this more than anything.

You take off your blouse, the pants you were a little sick of because you couldn’t wear a skirt or a nice dress, since you were incognito. You stay in your underwear and appreciate the concentrated expression on Felix’s face.

“Baby, you’re beautiful. Let me capture absolutely everything I have to remember while I’m on tour…”

His voice is husky, needy. He directs his phone’s camera first to your face. Capturing every soft angle of your pretty face. You giggle somewhat nervously and shyly… and then, the show finally begins, Felix slowly lowers his cell phone, recording your breasts, your abdomen, your panties. He gasps again, feeling more and more excited and desperate, which as proof is the sensation of his guilty precum staining his underwear. You are everything to him.

He can’t help himself and with his free hand he begins to caress you delicately, to squeeze your waist, to caress your ass, to subtly turn you over to get the perfect shot of how very lovely and round it looks.

“I’m going to wear… the panties you want” you whisper.

Felix stops touching you, and you quickly pull off your panties, making him audibly sigh. Your breasts look better in person than the quality of his cell phone; still, on both sides, he loves them. You pull down your panties carefully, slowly, and seductively, feeling your temperature rise, you are incredibly aroused, and at this point, you regret a little bit to propose between you a game of seduction, patience, and provocation.

Your boyfriend keeps biting his lips hard, feeling the great need to gasp every time you tease him more and more. He shamelessly records your panties going down your legs, of the thin fabric slowly clearing from your vaginal lips and finally, the soft and cute shot of your mons pubis, slowly zooming out to get the great shot of your naked body, for him and him alone.

“Fuck, baby… I don’t know if I can resist anymore. Let’s do a porno at this point” Felix teases, each word lower than the other, clearly altered in desire.

You chuckle. “You’re cute.”

You continue with your thing, with the original plan to tease your boyfriend and drive him to madness, but this is proving extremely difficult for you too; you need him badly too. Still, you slowly put on yourself the tiny little garment that Felix fantasized about from the second he saw it.

He is breathless. You moan softly, the new underwear starts to tease your pussy and cling hotly to your ass. The tiny thong fits you even better than he would have imagined, the sheer fabric barely even covers your pubic area, the triangle figure is so small… it’s such a damn provocative and useless garment.

“You like it?” you question, proudly.

“I love it” he confesses with a piercing gaze into yours. “Now… lie down, darling… show me how wet you are for me. What are you going to do, my naughty little girl?”

You bite your lip. Felix’s gentle dominance drives you uncontrollably crazy. He apparently adapted quickly to the purpose of your idea. You obey him at once, lying your body comfortably on the bed. He follows your movements, crawling onto the bed next to you on his knees.

“I’m… I’m going to touch myself for you.”

You are helplessly aroused, lying back on the bed. You fondle your breasts, flex your knees and finally spread your legs, letting out a soft moan on the spot. Felix records your soft breasts, your hands playing nervously with them and moves down to your juicy lips, your labia glossy, lightly stimulated, your throbbing sex exposed.

“Fuck” Felix grunts, aggressively stroking his cock, adjusting himself a little. “Oh yeah? What do you think about when you touch yourself like that, princess?”

His rough voice turns you on even more, and his lustful gaze almost makes you tremble. Your fingers slowly slide down your skin until they reach your pussy. Felix begins to be possessed by his role: recording every single detail of your dripping pussy, every tremor of your body, he is fascinated.

You play with your clit, your middle finger tracing the thin fabric of your panties, you wiggle your pelvis and moan softly. You’re so horny, so surrendered, you’re completely his.

“Tell me, tell me, how does it feel, oh, look at you, you’re so fucking wet, all that pretty pussy for me... do your fingers feel as good as mine?” Felix continues, his phone capturing every moment of your docile, weak but energetically aroused reclining body.

You begin to tremble with pleasure, with nervousness, and it’s even difficult to speak.

“Mmmm, it feels so good... but not as good as you...” you pant, circling your clit, gently moving your legs.

“Oh yeah? Are you going to miss me, baby? How much, huh? How much are you going to miss me, sweetheart?”

You nod. Your fingers begin to slide down your folds, losing themselves in their warmth and wetness. There is something so obscene about the way your sweet boyfriend mercilessly records you, his impatience and constant licking of his lips, wanting you. His stiff member is slowly bothering him.

“A lot, Felix, a lot... I'm gonna miss you a lot...”

“Is this how you touch yourself when I’m not with you, baby? Show me how you do it, you can’t stop thinking about me?”

You shake your head. You find it funny, the way you suggested the idea, how you started teasing him, but now he’s the one pushing you to the limit. You tease yourself more, touching your weak spots that you know make you tremble, but the sensations are a thousand times better and more intense when your boyfriend does it. You tempt your entrance, arching your pelvis, wanting to insert your fingers inside you. Felix is breathing heavily, and you’re almost certain that his need can be heard even through his cell phone.

Finally, you slip your hand inside the small piece of fabric covering your pussy and while you play with your breasts, your nipples erect from the touch of your other hand, with the other you caress with painful patience the skin of your pubis, your clit, your juicy labia, all of which is killing you.

“Oh, yeah. Just like that, baby. Stick two fingers inside you... touch yourself for me, do it, imagine it’s me filling you up...”

You obey instantly and whimper, letting out a sigh as you feel your fingers slide easily into your entrance. You feel your tightness, the length of your fingers teasing you but not filling you completely the way Felix’s cock does.

You gasp, slowly thrusting to increase your rhythm, moving your hips, desperately caressing your clit with your other hand. Felix notices and speaks again, his voice so dark that he sounds like a damn villain about to destroy you, yet there is a certain playfulness in his tone:

“Look at you acting like this, so desperate, baby... you’re not being gentle with yourself at all. Is this how you want me to fuck you? Do you imagine me fucking you hard?”

Felix refrains from touching you. His hands begin to tremble, he has a voracious hunger for you that he has never felt before, his cock begins to come to life, throbbing to the rhythm of your violent thrusts with your fingers in your stimulated entrance.

“F-Felix...” you whimper, dragging out your words, biting your lip and looking him straight in the eyes the whole time.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, you gasp in desperation and... he seems to be there, sadistically enjoying the show. At this point, Felix himself is surprised at his resistance, at not cumming right there just by looking at you, but one thing is certain, his genitals are so fucking sensitive from not being stimulated at all, and he was going to take that out on you in due course... in the meantime:

“Use your words, baby, tell me anything. Remember that this video is for when I’m alone, missing you.”

“Fuck, Felix. I want you to fuck me. Fuck me, fuck me, please be here with me. Mmm...”

“You’re going to miss my cock, aren’t you, you little cunt? If only you could see yourself now, so needy, making a mess on the fucking hotel bed, you’re a very, very bad girl, princess.”

His accent becomes thicker and more defined, his desperation speaks for itself as he begins to sound aggressive with you, no longer soft, no more purring and sizzling teasing tone. He is being demanding with you now.

You wanted to ask him to touch you. Your fingers are quick, your caresses soft, but nothing like him, you’re so close and yet so far away. You have him there, watching you masturbate, his big bulge throbbing, his pupils dilating with fantasy. You were so needy that you even begged him in a gasp,

“Felix, please, touch me.”

He clicks his tongue, amused to see your body writhing in pleasure. He’s enjoying it to the fullest.

“No, no, no, sweetheart. I can’t be in the shot, don’t you remember? Just touch yourself for me, give your best show for when your boyfriend needs it most. Damn, you have no idea how much you turn me on, I’m going to jerk off so hard to this, baby” he groans.

“Do it, now, touch yourself,” you beg.

He smiles, showing his teeth, “You want to see my cock that badly, don’t you, hunny? You’re just a fucking little slut, you better cum on your fingers or I swear to God I’ll leave you like that. All fucking needy and horny for me. You started it, now you finish it.”

Your vision starts to blur, your pussy starts to sound obscenely wet, you bury your fingers deeper, but it’s not enough, it’s not him. It’s a real torture to have him in front of you and not be able to touch him.

“Then talk to me, talk to me more.”

He laughs. “Ha. I almost forgot how naughty you are, love. Of course, you have a thing for my voice.” He turns his phone away from you and leans dangerously close to your ear, his body hovering over yours, his soft shirt brushing against your bare chest, and whispers, his voice so seductively deep that it makes you tremble, “It turns you on, doesn’t it? Do you think you’ll cum faster if I talk dirty to you?”

You both maintain intense, penetrating eye contact. You’re so close, feeling this needy puts you in a state of mind where you want to surrender, where you want to cum; you wonder if you do... what can Felix give you, does he really plan on keeping his hard erection the whole time?

He pulls away from you.

“Come on, baby, I know you’re close, aren’t you? God, you don’t know how many times I fantasized about you touching yourself all those nights we had phone sex. Are you really this horny and slutty? Every time I tell you all the things I want to do to you... how I want to touch you and make you feel...”

Felix lets out an arrogant chuckle and gently caresses your clit. You react, sighing and tensing your body. You’re so sensitive, as if he’s pressed a button inside you.

“Do you want me to touch you, princess? Tell me what you want...”

You sigh and go back to working on your pussy with soft, delicate, slow movements... suddenly you feel a little embarrassed, being so sensitive to him. You swallow, and your throat is so dry and empty.

“Felix, I need you, please. You can touch me... Did you get a good video, already? Please, come here and make me cum.”

“Do you need me that much? I’m the only one who knows how to take good care of your little pussy. But I told you I’m not going to stop until you come for me,” he orders you harshly.

He raises his eyebrows mischievously, an idea popping into his head. You sigh, resigned to the fact that you’ll have to bring yourself to orgasm on your own, so that maybe he’ll touch you afterwards and take out his burning energy on you. But you watch as Felix leans over the nightstand next to the bed, opens the drawer, and pulls out the new vibrator he bought you, compact and very useful. Felix loves to make things hotter in bed, to have you wear lingerie, to use toys, everything to give you endless, long, intense pleasure.

“You wanna cum faster, baby girl?” he shows you the vibrator. “I bet you use it imagining that it’s me making you feel good when I’m not around.”

You don’t even have time to process it or respond when he turns on the toy and presses it hard against your already stimulated clit, having the obscene take of his hand using the sex toy on your used pussy. You whimper and instinctively close your legs, but he acts quickly, grabbing your knees to prevent you from doing so.

“Ah, ah,” he warns you, “Hold the vibrator and play with your pussy, baby.”

You look him in the eyes. Your makeup is a little smudged, your gaze pleads for mercy, it’s bright, and your eyes look slightly larger. You’re suffering, you’re enjoying it, and Felix is going crazy.

You take the toy and let it vibrate violently against your clit. The vibrations are exquisite, encompassing your entire wet vulva. You moan in pleasure, feeling so close. Felix quickly and tentatively runs two of his fingers over your pussy, dipping his fingers shallowly into your entrance, a reaction that makes you whimper even louder. He is mesmerized, consumed by flames, so damn spellbound by you and his immense need to have you that he attractively brings those two fingers to his mouth, licking them deliciously, tasting you a little. He moans and enjoys it, as if you were something so delicious. That action alone increases your horniness level.

“You always taste so fucking sweet. Just like that, baby, just like that,” he coos, “You’re doing so well, my good girl.”

You’re enjoying it, despite feeling his great absence, you let yourself go, you think you can reach an intense orgasm soon, after pushing yourself to the limit and overstimulating yourself... when suddenly you let out a big sigh as you see your boyfriend pull down his shorts and underwear, Felix’s cock pops out, wriggling, fully erect, so perfectly stimulated that its tip is bright pink. He whimpers and begins to rub his hard shaft. That’s when you prolong your orgasm a little longer, because every part of you needs him.

Your gaze is lost on his cock, on the roughness of his freshly shaved pubic area, small, faintly pigmented freckles visible on his skin that you already know by heart, on the softness of the skin of his cock, that vein that drives you crazy running along its length, his medium-sized hand moving up and down on it, masturbating gently.

“Hey, eyes on me, you little slut,” he orders you, bringing you out of your trance and back to maintaining eye contact with him. “I know you want my cock, angel. Beg for it and you may get it. But now, c’mon, put the vibrator inside you... let me see you scream,” a mischievous and wicked smile appears on his tender and attractive face, which is anything but tender right now, he’s eager.

You bite your lip and obey your boyfriend’s command, almost collapsing from the sensation of the intense vibrations inside you. You want to beg for him. His phone camera zooms in depravedly on your vulnerable area, and Felix closes his eyes as his hand fills him with pleasure.

“Lix, please—”

“Now turn around,” he interrupts you and orders in an eerily harsh voice, “Let me see your pretty ass while your pussy takes the vibrator, my sweet good girl.”

It’s the little phrases and his voice that bring your orgasm forward and make you want to collapse. You obey him again, moving your body completely and lifting your ass gently for the camera and for your boyfriend. Your hand doesn’t stop holding the vibrator, and in a desperate attempt, you start pushing it in and out of your pussy.

Felix pants heavily. He has the perfect view of your round ass and juicy, stimulated pussy. At this point, you were both a mess; the thin fabric of your thong was soaked, your labia majora practically stained with your juices. Felix gives you a gentle spanking that makes you sigh.

“You take the vibrator so fucking well, princess. I want to ruin that fucking useless piece of thong you’re wearing.”

And then, you feel him, his cock teasing you, taking the string of your thong to pull it tight and rub his stimulated cock between your ass cheeks and into your ass. It’s a bit narcissistic, the way he loves how his cock looks on camera, rubbing against your ass and his balls subtly grazing your center.

You can’t resist any longer, you whimper and start begging for him.

“Please, please, Felix, fuck me.”

“I can’t hear you, baby,” he teases, rubbing against you.

But you can’t hold it anymore, you want to beg him harder, but your orgasm is close. You roll your eyes back slightly, Felix can tell you’re close to climaxing, so he pulls his cock out of you skin and lets you pant intensely, screaming his name:

“Fe-fe-felix, Lix, I-”

You collapse breathless and orgasm intensely, tensing every muscle.

He is more than happy, his ego swells, and he quickly takes the vibrator from your now weak grip. Your limbs are fragile, trembling. He turns off the toy and leaves it far from your agitated body, in a state of absolute use, wet. Felix grabs you by the waist with both hands, and you realize that the show is over. He finishes recording and puts his cell phone aside. He turns you back over, laying you down with your legs spread.

“Good girl.”

Felix has an adorable smile on his face, and as soon as you are recovering, speechless and still slightly collapsing from your orgasm, he leans down and begins to eat your pussy, savoring your climax. You moan, impressed that this is his next move. His long hair tickles your thighs. His licks are slow, his tongue thick and hot, flicking his tongue along your labia and entire vulva, he is savoring everything, gently sucking your clit. Building excitement in you quickly.

He starts using his fingers too and works on your pussy, worshiping you. He does this for a few long moments, long enough to have you panting again. He thrusts two fingers inside you and begins to penetrate you with them. You couldn’t believe it.

Felix pulls away from you, just when he feels you are needy enough again, still thrusting his fingers inside you and releasing you arrogantly, his full, shiny lips of you.

“We’re not done yet, beautiful. Not until I fill your pretty pussy with all of me.”

Finally, you watch his fingers move away from your cunt, he takes off his shirt in one swift movement and adjusts his body over you, teasing you with his wet tip between your folds, rubbing his erection over your mons pubis and under the fabric of your panties, so he can pull aside the thin thread that was stimulating your entrance and thrust his cock into you, slowly at first, then quickly and abruptly all the way in with a single thrust. You gasp loudly, clutching the sheets tightly; it was what you had been longing for.

Felix approaches you, making the act intimately dirty, it’s a mess, you’re so wet, and you both need each other so desperately that he starts to whimper as he moves inside you. Your legs seek to wrap around his body, and your hands finally touch your boyfriend. His thrusts are deep, desperate, filling you completely, moving inside you perfectly in a delicious rhythm, fucking you with impatient need. You both sigh, babbling each other’s names into the air.

“You feel so fucking good,” he pants, pounding into you. “I’m going to miss this so much,” he confesses between gasps.

You dig your nails into his back, begin to arch your back, you love this so much. You love being under his body, being nothing and everything at the same time, fading into him. Felix presses his forehead against yours and stares at you for a few seconds before taking your lips, desperately sweet, fierce, passionate, a long-lasting, wet kiss full of secrets that only the two of you know. You separate for lack of air... you are so focused on the sensation of your pussy being attended to, enjoying his body rubbing against your vulva, him filling your insides and the friction of his hard cock sliding inside you, that you are completely surprised when he pulls away a little and takes his penis out of you. The beautiful moment and the magic are over for a second.

“Turn around again, love. I’m going to fuck you hard now.”

He orders and grabs your waist desperately. He turns your body around, grabbing your ass and making you arch your back; you see him pick up his phone again and whisper, “Fuck it.”

Felix places his cell phone horizontally on a pillow, leaning back against the headboard. You notice that he is recording from the frontal camera and your face is completely visible, along with his bare chest, but his face isn’t in the frame. Your heart races. It’s terribly obscene, you love it.

“I want to remember your beautiful face while I fuck you hard.”

Felix sentences and, without further ado, slides his cock into you brutally, making you let out a muffled scream. You feel it deep inside you, throbbing, penetrating you with force. He grabs your waist tightly and starts thrusting into you intensely, sliding his cock into you, piercing and wrecking you completely. The room fills with your moans and his grunts, with both of your skins colliding intensely. You cling to the sheets again, being fucked helplessly. Felix feels you close, as close as he is.

“I want to remember your face when you come for me, please. Smile for the camera, baby.”

You look at your reflection on his cell phone screen. You’re whimpering, slightly disheveled, your makeup smudged, completely cock-drunk. You wonder if you’re disturbing your neighbor’s peace. You’re so close, your eyes almost teary, your walls squeezing Felix’s cock perfectly, enough to make him reach orgasm with intensity, making him scream. You feel his cock tremble inside you and semen fill you completely, your guilty pleasure, you love when Felix creams you. Felix continues with messy thrusts, collapsing on top of you faintly, and that’s when you climax too, your heart beating intensely, your body agitated and trembling.

“I love you, dear,” he confesses, breathless, collapsing beside you.

You look at him with a smile, feeling the absence of his warm cock inside you, but you understand that it must be too sensitive. You look at him with loving eyes, about to answer him, when you hear someone knocking on your door. It’s Seungmin.

“Heeeey, guys. Are you there? Did you fall asleep?”

Felix and you smile at each other in complicity, with heavy breathing.

taglist: @rylea08 @iovecb97 @armystay89 @lolareadsimagines @ayyonoona @do-you-remember-summer-127 @wildtokay @korthbum @oddracha @hyune-sssne  @choso4u

note !! : hey guys, ik i havent been really active, sorry if im tagging u and somethings wrong, so pls let me know if you want to be removed from the taglist by dm or an ask, or update ur user, or if i missed your user, or literally anything plss !!, the link is right up, or again, my messages and inbox are open to anything :) luv ya

[evilkitten3]

#yeah that's a durarara post

the top four winners are isaac dian, firo prochainezo, ladd russo, and claire stanfield. this is a baccano! post dammit

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: 'Intense Desire' ༄࿔ L.F.

⤷ Sex Pills | Overstimulation | Squirting

♱ word count: 2.9k

♱ warnings: fem!reader, sex pills usage (felix accidentally taking them), mention of a handjob in a car, he gets “mean” for like a split second, unprotected p in v, rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampies, squirting, if u quint theres 1 sentence of angst at the end, i might be forgetting something

♱ notes: sorry this was delayed! I made it a little longer than the others in hopes that it would make up for the tardiness <3 also 1 the beginning might feel rushed (it was) and 2 sex pills dont completely work like this?? But its fiction so.. pls bare with me im so stressed out LMFAO

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

The pounding in Felix’s head was just enough to distract him from the colorful clothes around the two of you. The initially exciting shopping trip to the mall with your boyfriend had quickly slowed down thanks to the headache he developed out of the blue. Your comforting words and warm hands on his face only helped so much, and he felt horrible for his body refusing to let him enjoy your date.

It wasn’t until you reminded him of the medicines he had packed away in his bag that he let up on his pouting Then, with the familiar feeling of the plastic of a pill bottle on his fingers and a gentle reminder from you that this should be fun for the both of you, Felix finds himself leading you to the food court. He quickly buys a bottle of water and chugs down 3 pills. It’s over the dosage of 2 he normally would take, but he’s desperate to have a good time with you.

Not long after, he’s back to his normal self and the thumping pain in his head is long gone. Wide smiles and crescent eyes watch you pick out interesting clothes, some even meant to match with him. Everything is back to normal!

That is until 30 minutes after the fact when he’s patiently sitting outside of your changing room waiting for you to try on the next outfit. He starts to feel a new, less painful ache. One between his legs that he’s all too familiar with.

Literal lines of sweat are dripping down his forehead and his neck when you open the curtain to present the outfit you picked out. He forces a smile and has to tear his eyes away from the tight pants to give his opinion. A curt, breathy, “Beautiful.”

The sweat immediately catches your attention and obviously raises concerns from the way your eyebrows furrow. He notices right away and tries not to let it worry you, shooing you away and encouraging you to try on the last pieces of fabric that await you in the changing room.

The second the curtains close behind you he racks his brain for possible reasons as to why a sudden, strong feeling of horniness took over his body. It’s even to the point where his whole body tingles from the ceiling fans above him. The slow gusts of wind make his cock ache in his jeans and goosebumps litter his arms.

He doesn’t think he’s ever gotten this horny in his life. Even the time when you managed to rile him up to the point where he almost came in his jeans when you brushed past him he had never felt this way. He swore he could feel his veins burning as he looked through his bag for his phone, praying that Google would explain everything.

But he doesn’t get far enough to grab his phone, because the realization hits him like a tsunami wave. The pills. He realizes too late that he never checked which medicine he took. And sure enough, when he checked his bag, the tiny plastic bottle he had a hold on earlier wasn’t his Ibuprofen.

Instead, it was a blue pill bottle that he kept for special medicines that he would occasionally get prescribed. This time around, it was the brand new, not prescribed pills he had put to the side for… intimacy reasons.

It was embarrassing at first for him. A young, attractive man in his 20s struggling with his sex life. All thanks to the wear and tear from work stress: the unforgiving cycle of working too much and being overwhelmed, then taking a break and working too little just to fall behind.

You understood! It’s understandable to not be able to get hard when there’s a never ending dread that has made home in the back of your mind. And it was clearly obvious that he is attracted to you, every other time the two of you were intimate is enough evidence for that.

So you offered him an idea that might help! That idea being “horny” pills. It took some convincing and consistent reassurance for him to cave and agree. Which led to that little blue bottle of little red pills that made his not-so-little friend crave your attention.

“Lixie?” Your voice snaps him out of his daydreaming and his head snaps up to see your head poking out of the curtain. Your giggle goes straight to his dick and he has to force a smile to get through the ache. “I need your help with this dress. I can’t get the zipper up.”

You don’t need to ask twice, especially when the promise of getting to see your bare skin is on the table. He’s joining you in the blink of an eye, using his clammy, shaky hands to zip up the dress the rest of the way. Your body flushes at the way he licks his lips as he looks you up and down multiple times.

“Do you like it?” His eyes snap up to yours in the mirror and he nods. It’s pretty obvious to you what’s going on in his head at this point, minus the reason for it, so you rip the dress off and rush to the cashier as fast as you can.

Felix is on your tail the whole time. A hand on your hip and his chest pressed to your back as he shoves his credit card into the card reader. Then again when the two of you get to the car, this time both of his hands on your hips and his face shoved into your neck.

“Need you so fucking bad.” His hard-on is even more obvious now as he grinds it against your thigh, groaning and whining into your neck about how good it feels. You struggle to get the car keys out of his pocket when his hands are all over you, making you feel good when they aren’t even doing much.

“Felix… Not here.” The two of you drabbled in public sex before so it wasn’t a new experience for either of you. But it had been a while since the two of you were intimate so you really didn’t want it to be in the dirty car garage of a mall. In the middle of the day, mind you.

“I need something. Baby, please. I-I can’t do this.” The desperation in his voice is enough to make your neck whip around, almost knocking into his as you look back at him with confusion. He knows you all too well and the answer to your unspoken question is already on the tip of his tongue.

“I accidentally took those sex pills instead of pain meds.” He doesn’t bother explaining further; he doesn’t care anymore. The only thing that’s on his mind is getting you into the car so he can get some sort of stimulation on his poor, achy cock.

You're lucky to even have gotten his hands off of you after that, let alone getting him in the passenger seat and buckled in without him launching at you. However you’re even less lucky as you drive him home, one hand on the wheel and the other- well, on his dick.

You could hear the wetness of him jerking himself off before you saw it. He was keen to get your help though. His eyes were teary and his voice came out a distressed whine as he pleaded for you to help, complaining that his hand wasn’t comparable to how good your hand would feel.

The windows on your shared car are as tinted as legally possible, so you quickly cave and slide your hand toward him. Now 5 minutes away from the house, you quicken your hands in hopes that he’ll cum this soon. But luck isn’t on either of your sides today and the car’s already in park before he’s even close to cumming.

You don’t make it past the entryway before Felix is shoving you forward, pinning you to the wall, and pulling your bottoms to your knees. The sight of your panties all messy and your pussy lips equally as messy from your excitement is enough to make him feral.

“You’re so good to me, Honey. Always so obedient and keeping my pussy ready for me when I most need it. I’m going to give you the world and more.” He doesn’t wait for you to make a comment before he’s pushing your underwear to join your bottoms.

One hand rests on the wall by your face and the other pushes against your lower back, arching your back at the same time that he pushes his cock in. Your walls are warm and wet as they take every last inch of him in, almost as if two puzzle pieces were finally placed together.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and he sucks on your neck, whispering incoherent mumbles until he’s bottomed out. He only stops then to take deep breaths and calm his own body down. Now that he’s finally inside of you, the effects of the pills feel a million times stronger.

He genuinely feels like a dog in heat, hips still rutting into yours even as his mind tells his body to relax. It doesn’t listen in the slightest and after a short pause his hips are finding a rigorous rhythm. 

Felix is a man possessed behind you; nails digging into your skin leaving bruises to come and hips moving with more force than you thought he could give. It’s hard to think he’s not possessed with his filthy mouth, something he’s always been good at but it hits differently when he’s rock hard inside of you and eager to feel every inch of your body all at once.

You start to feel like the pills are affecting you. Your own body reacts to his fervent movements with warm clenches and moans that spur him on. You feel so sensitive and your orgasm sneaks up on you, causing you to wiggle in his hold. The shuffle of your limbs makes him lose his angle and you both whine.

“No, no, no, no, no, no. Stop. You gotta stay arched, baby. Yeah, just like that. Ffuck…” The hand on your back pushes you forward, completely squishing you against the wall as he tries to arch you back to how you previously were. He knows that he did it right when you start to flutter around him again and your moans ascend a few pitches.

With the other hand using all of his fingers to rub your clit back and forth, he pushes you over the edge. You clench around him as you moan into the wall, your arms shaking as you try to hold yourself up against it. He growls against your ear and bites down on it as he continues fucking you through your high.

He doesn’t stop after you’re done. If anything it only encourages him, the ache in his veins telling him that he needs to keep going and make you feel even better. And so he does, with one hand still furiously rubbing your clit back and forth while the other now moves to your waist and holds up your slouching form.

It just squeezes you appreciatively, almost even possessively as he holds you in place when you start to flail. It doesn’t become mean until in the midst of your thrashing, you move yourself just slightly to the point where he loses his angle again. He pushes his hand roughly against you and arches your back himself again, this time with a disgruntled snap. 

“Stop fucking doing that.” He’s huffing into your ear as his hips pick up pace, going even faster than he was before. “Be good or else I’ll bend you over with nothing to lean on.” But it’s hard to control your body when painful pleasure is swimming through your body. Even more so when you feel another orgasm lurking.

“B-Baby, fuck! Give me a sec, you’re-” You cut yourself off with a shriek as the hand on your waist moves to tangle itself in your hair. It uses the grip to pull you back up to rest your back flat against his chest. His other hand finally falters at this point, instead of rubbing your clit it sinks into your thigh.

“I’m what, Honey. Tearing up your guts?” He laughs out a sound of agreement that turns into a guttural groan as his blinding thrusts finally let up. A few sharp thrusts and a series of moans fall from his lips as he empties himself out inside of you. It feels like gallons of his seed are filling your stomach, and the feeling of it leaking out onto your inner thighs is enough to make you believe that’s the case.

If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. He just stands there with his forehead against your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your torso, mind reeling as he comes down from such an intense high.

“Baby. You didn’t cum with me at the end, did you?” He’s more upset that he faltered that badly, but the twitch of his cock lets you both know that he’s not close to being done regardless. The question is a real testament to your faith. Lie to him and maybe bribe him to let you take a break, or tell the truth and deal with the consequences. Though, it doesn’t seem like he was asking.

He pulls out and moves his hand to the small of your back. Neither of you even spared a glance at your bottoms as you’re dragged to the living room and shoved into the couch. It knocks the breath from your lungs momentarily, and it’s all the time he needs to bend you to his will. Your shoulders sink into the bottom cushions and your legs are hovering just above you as he shoves his cock inside of you again. 

The breath is almost knocked from you again as he finds a new, rougher pace to follow. This one isn’t nearly as fast but the new angle, thanks to your ankles being by his ears, sends him right where he wants to be. His previous load froths along his length as he fucks into you like your lives are on the line. 

Your hands find home on his biceps and your nails leave deep crescent shapes along his skin as you desperately try to find something to ground yourself with. The new vigor he fucks you with makes it so that your next orgasm builds up within a minute or two. The feral stare from his lidded eyes only makes your stomach squeeze as you realize that he really has no plans to stop, even if he really wants to. 

“Felix, baby, s-slow down. It feels w-weird.” You push against his stomach in hopes that it will slow him down, but it doesn’t. He stays quiet and only responds by grabbing your wrist and shoving it into the cushion by your head; a wordless command for ‘Hands off.’ You look up just in time to see his gaze grow more intense.

He even leans forward, both of his hands moving to your thighs to fold them into your chest. His hips pick up speed once he has you folded to his liking and you find that strange feeling growing stronger. You get a glimpse of him licking his pink lips that then perk up into a menacing smile and then the feeling grows too strong, forcing your eyes closed and your legs to combat his hold.

Your body can only shake as you gush around him and he curses under his breath at the sight. Your cunt spams around him and you squirt through his merciless fucking. The wet, squelching noises combat the volume of your cries to the point where he periodically goes out of his way to thrust into you even rougher just to hear it more.

“You hear her talking to me? Fucking shit- She really liked that, huh baby?” He laughs in disbelief and slams into you repeatedly, chasing his own sudden orgasm from watching you cum so intensely.

“That was so fucking hot, Baby.” The whine in his voice doesn’t match the cocky look on his face, but you can’t be bothered to comment about it as he finishes inside of you all of a sudden. Your sensitive walls constrict around him yet again and he cums deep inside, riding his own orgasm out to the sound of your overwhelmed sobs.

His chest heaves as he catches his breath and he takes the moment to glance at a clock on the wall. It’s been a few hours since he took the pills so they should be going down soon. He can already feel his brain going back to normal, and his thoughts are clearing up as the two of you sit there unmoving.

“You… Are you ok, Honey?” Your sniffles are enough to make his heart drop into his ass, but when you look up at him the anxiety leaves his body. You smile at him through the tears and laugh as best as you can while still breathless.

“Holy shit, Felix.” He matches your chuckle and leans forward, slotting your legs on either side of his waist as he repeatedly pushes his lips against your cheek. “I’m… great. But you owe me for fucking me within an inch of my life like that with no warning.”

Taglists: (red=can't be tagged)

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess

@dreamingaboutjisung @everythingboutkpop @velvetmoonlght @4l17h4

@felixsangelicfreckles

[giddyfatherchris]

📝 skz reaction - you're being a clingy baby

pairing. ot8!skz x gn!reader (individually)

type. fluff fluff fluffff, requested <3

warnings. gender neutral reader, curse words (thats how i show my enthusiasm okay)

a/n. i know last time i was like "meh sue me for not putting the boys in the 'right' order" but you know what, i actually like it like that. my boy jeongin is always last, he deserve to be first so i think i'm just gonna keep it like that when it comes to skz reactions :)

jeongin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ he would tease you like hell about it until one day you actually start crying and he feels so fucking bad he never does it again. (to be fair he probably laughed when you first started crying but when he realized they were real tears? he is panicking). after that he never denies you again and makes sure to give you attention whenever you need it. you're the only person he allows to be clingy and needy with him. which the boys are kinda petty about because they sure aren't allowed to be clingy with their maknae they love so much lol. they'd tease him sooo bad about it but every time he says it's different for you. you get special privileges.

seungmin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ he would def be annoyed when you're being clingy, not because he actually minds it but mostly because he knows you sometimes push it JUST to annoy him lmao. so in return he would deny you just for fun or when you ask him cute stuff he'd purposely answer seriously or act like he doesn't understand your request until you start wailing like a lost cat and then he can't resist anymore. oh and also, he loves to act that way when you're in public but behind closed doors? he can be just as clingy, it's different from when you are but still. he's not necessarily needy, but he wants. you. close. to him. he'd be the type to constantly want to be around you and get pouty when you can't.

felix ⊹ ࣪ ˖ honestly being clingy with felix only means one thing... you're spoiled rotten. you need hugs and cuddles? he will RUN to give them to you. you just want to stick to him like glue? 'sure baby come here'. you want to lay on his lap while he's playing games? not a problem. you don't even understand how you're feeling but you know you need to be with him? he will be there, arms wide open for you no questions asked. all your wishes will be executed because its just how it works between you two. and thing is, the treatment he gives you? you give it right back. so at this point, it's not even a question or a thought. it's simply second nature.

han ⊹ ࣪ ˖ getting han's attention when you're feeling clingy? it's tough. either because he will get side tracked by any little thing, despite his good intentions, so you'll have to remind him to stay with you or to give you a hug. orrrr he will goof off like crazy and will not leave you alone. until the point where you're physically trying to get as far away from him as possible. oh and he'd chase you, no worries "but babyyyy you said you needed love and attention. stop running." with the scariest most mischievous smile in the world until you actually start running away and hide from him because he will smother you with love. (but let's be honest you always end up letting him catch you because come on... you'll take all the love he'll give you)

hyunjin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ he does not mind at all when you're being clingy. in fact he LOVES it. in skz, there is a holy trinity of baby talker and you can bet your ass he's one of them. he will baby talk (to the other boys utmost horror) and repeat your requests with the baby voice until everyone in the room physically cringe. oh and he's mean, he's a real lil bitch, so he will deny you cuddles just so you can pout harder. his heart melts at the sight of it and he can't help but want more. still, it'd only take you to give him the eyes before he'd giggle and pull you in for a big big hug while he digs in nose in the crook of your neck where you just smell so so good.

changbin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ being clingy with binnie can go one of two ways. first, he's just just not gonna mind at all. he'd notice you seem more clingy than usual and just signal for you to come next to him. he'd keep babbling or doing whatever it is he's doing but he'd put his arms around you mindlessly stroking your back and giving you little kisses on your forehead... OR he would return it ten times worse. i'm talking full on baby voice (member number 2 of the holy trinity), pinching your cheeks, exagerating your requests, jumping on your lap and he'd act clingy just to make you laugh. "aw my little baby needs cuddles? you feeling clingy? you want to sit on my lap? what if I sit on your lap instead?" "what no bin that's not- BIN YOU'RE SO HEAVY IM GONNA DIE"

minho ⊹ ࣪ ˖ honestly, he does not care. like at all, the teasing would be minimal but all in all he'd let you do whatever it is you want to do, give you whatever it is you need. because fine he likes to tease ppl, but he also loves cuddles and physical touch even if he would never admit it. often ppl won't dare to be clingy with him because of his black cat personality, but you've always been able to see behind that façade and to never let it scare you. so you do not hesitate to latch on his arm or rest your head in the crook of his neck while he's doing something. and it always feel like a sweet sweet reward when he simply drapes his arms around you, not even reacting to your touch like it's the most normal thing and second nature thing in the world for him.

bangchan ⊹ ࣪ ˖ uhm yeah bangchan? absolutely adores when you're clingy. in fact, he would get whiny if you're not constantly requesting cuddles and hugs and little kisses. he would also be a master of the baby voice and obliging to your every demand. he just loves to be needed and the way you need him makes him feel light as a feather. he'd come up to you "what is you need babe?" and you'd pout and ask whatever it is you want wether its a hug or cuddles or some time with him "i don't think i heard you well the first time. want to repeat that?" but right before you'd say it again he'd squish your cheeks together so you have the cutest pout on your mouth and you'd mumble than you can't exactly talk like that but he'd insist "no no you can, go ahead baby" you'd sigh and oblige "mhm-want-mhug?" and this man would squeal like a toddler because he thinks youre so cute he’s going to explode. chan does have the profile of someone with love aggresion and so he'd lovingly and agressively give you anything you want :)

[ateezscupid]

─── FEB FILTH FEST: I Wanna Be Yours - AGE GAP ♡

SUMMARY / You started to develop a crush on your college professor, but had to distance yourself from him when it turned into more than a silly "crush."

warnings ✩ SMUT, FLUFF, DOM/SUB dynamics, ANGST in the beginning, older!san (35), younger!reader (24), age gap, cliche student x teacher trope, soft dom!san, sub!reader, unprotected sex, vanilla vanilla vanilla, public sex? (nobody sees them but they're in a library), oral (f), praise, size kink, san is basically a gentle giant

word count ✩ 3,89k

tags ✩ @desirehorizon @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @bbdeongi @dawn-iscozy @xh01bri @mallielovssyou @clxssy1997 @soreberry @nopension @kitten4sannie @faeriehwas @lustfxq @ashistrashhhhhh @hwallazia

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST / FEB FILTH FEST

"Y/N? You're my highest ranking student. Do you know the answer?" San's voice cut through the dense silence of the classroom, his gaze landing on you. You felt your cheeks redden as all eyes turned to you. The intensity of his stare made your heart race, and you realized you hadn't heard the question. Panic set in, but you took a deep breath and hoped for the best.

"Um," you blink and sit up straight. "I-I wasn't--I wasn't paying attention." The words tumble out, and you can feel the heat spread from your cheeks to your neck. San's gaze lingers for a moment before he nods and moves on to the next student. You sigh with relief, dropping your eyes to your notebook.

You were only in your 20s, while San was well into his 30s so close to being considered middle aged. Even though, some people consider 35 middle aged, so it honestly didn't matter to you.

Every time you would do as little as fantasize having a life with him, you knew it would never happen. Why would he even date someone that much younger than him? And, even if by some miracle he did, you were his student. It was wrong, unprofessional, and you weren't ready for any rumors to start flying. Plus, he had his career to think about, and you had your future. You had to maintain a respectful distance.

So, one random day, you decided to distance yourself from him and you went as far as to drop out of his class. You switched your major, hoping that would help ease the ache in your heart, but it didn't. San's influence lingered everywhere, in the corridors where you heard his laugh echo, in the library where you had studied together, in the cafeteria where you had shared a table, and even in the quiet solitude of your dorm room where you had dreamed of a life beyond the confines of academia.

And here you were, eating by yourself in the empty library café, surrounded by the ghosts of your past happiness. The scent of stale coffee and dusty books filled your nose, a stark contrast to the fresh scent of San's aftershave that had once made your heart flutter. You pushed the textbook away, unable to focus on the words that blurred before your eyes.

"Y/N?" San's voice called out from behind you, and your heart skipped a beat. You hadn't seen him since the day you dropped his class, and now here he was, standing in the library café, looking more handsome than ever in his tweed jacket and glasses.

"P-Professor-?" you stutter, your voice shaking slightly. You swivel in your chair, trying to compose yourself, but your heart won't cooperate.

"I've been meaning to talk to you but it feels like you're…avoiding me?" San's brow furrowed with genuine concern. His eyes searched yours, looking for an explanation. You felt your throat tighten, unsure of what to say. The truth felt too raw, too embarrassing to admit.

"It's just…I needed to focus on my studies, Professor," you managed to say, hoping the lie wasn't too transparent. "Switching majors has been a bit overwhelming."

"Then why not stay with me?" San asked, his voice gentle but firm. "You had a knack for my class, and I was looking forward to seeing how far you'd go."

"I-It was something personal…" you murmured, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but you knew you had to protect him and yourself from the mess your feelings could create. San took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours.

He sits across from you, his eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of confusion. "Is everything okay?" he asks, his voice laced with care. You nod, trying to keep your composure, but his closeness is too much to handle. You can feel the warmth emanating from his body, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

"I can't say, it's…" You stop mid-sentence, the words lodging in your throat. San's eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought he might see the truth. But instead, he offered a small, understanding smile.

"You can tell me anything." San's hand reached out and placed itself gently on top of yours, his thumb tracing comforting circles. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you had to resist the urge to pull away.

"…I-It's you." The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you felt your cheeks flush even hotter.

San's hand stilled on yours, and he looked surprised, then a soft smile spread across his face. "What do you mean, 'it's me'?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"I mean… I had a crush on you," you blurted out, feeling your heart pound in your chest. The words hung in the air like a confession in a quiet church, and you waited for his reaction, bracing yourself for the worst. "Well, I thought it was a crush until it got…worse."

San's expression grew serious, his smile fading slightly. He removed his hand from yours and leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Worse?" he repeated.

"I know it's inappropriate and wrong," you rushed to explain, your voice barely a whisper. "But I couldn't help it. I had to get away, so I switched majors. I'm sorry if I disappointed you or made things awkward."

San leaned in, his eyes locking onto yours, and for a moment, the world around you faded into the background. "Y/N, it's not awkward. It's…unexpected," he said, his voice filled with a hint of something you hadn't heard before—vulnerability. "But it's not unwelcome."

Your heart stuttered in your chest, and you felt your eyes widen. "What do you mean?"

San took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. "I mean that I've noticed the way you look at me, the way you hang on my every word. And I've felt something too." His voice was low, almost a murmur, as if he was sharing a secret.

The confession hit you like a sledgehammer, leaving you momentarily speechless. You stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. Could it be possible that he felt the same way?

"I've noticed it too, Y/N," San continued, his voice soft and measured. "But I never acted on it because I knew it would be wrong. I've always respected my students' boundaries, and I respect you more than anyone."

"San, please." You whispered his name, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. "I don't care if I'm your student."

He leaned back again, his gaze dropping to the table. "But I do." His voice was firm, yet tinged with sadness. "It's not just about us. There's the university policy, our careers, and-"

"I've literally fantasized about you." The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you felt the air thicken around you. San's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his expression softened.

"Y/N," he began, his voice low and careful. "You know I care about you. You're an incredible student, and as your teacher, it's my job to support and guide you. But these feelings… They're complicated."

"Do you or do you not like me back?" You blurted out, unable to contain your emotions any longer. The question hung in the air, a silent plea for him to confirm what you hoped was true.

San's gaze remained on you, his eyes searching yours. "I do," he admitted, his voice a mere whisper. "But we can't let it affect our professional relationship."

"Then it won't, but please. I don't care if I have to date you in private." You looked at him with hopeful eyes, desperate for some kind of connection.

San sighed heavily, his eyes never leaving yours. "You don't understand, Y/N. It's not that simple."

You sigh and nod, standing up and grabbing your bag. "I understand," you say, trying to sound firm despite the shakiness in your voice.

He reached across the table and grabbed your arm, his grip firm but gentle. "Please, sit." His eyes searched yours, and you felt the weight of his gaze. You sat back down, your heart racing.

You snatch your arm away and walk around the table so you were face-to-face with him, looking into his eyes. "You don't have to say it," you whispered, your voice shaking with emotion. "Y-You want to stay professional so if all I need to do is stay away from you then I will-"

You were interrupted by San's hand, which he placed on your cheek and before you knew it, he was kissing you. It was a gentle kiss, but filled with so much passion and longing that it stole your breath away. Your eyes closed instinctively, and you melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck. The world outside the library faded into a distant memory, and for a moment, all that mattered was the feeling of his lips against yours.

He pulled away for only a moment, his eyes searching your face, looking for permission to continue. You nodded, your eyes brimming with unshed tears of joy. San leaned back in, his lips meeting yours again in a kiss that spoke of a longing that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

The kiss grew more intense, and you felt your knees tremble. It was everything you had ever dreamed of, and the reality was so much better than any fantasy. His hands moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer, and you felt the warmth of his body against yours. The scent of his cologne, something you had secretly come to adore, filled your senses, and you knew you never wanted to be anywhere else.

You tugged at his shirt, pulling him closer, feeling his hands slide down to your waist as the kiss deepened. His fingers traced the curves of your body, sending sparks of pleasure through every nerve. San's eyes searched yours, and you knew he was just as lost in the moment as you were.

"Sir," you murmured, your voice muffled by his shirt. "W-We're still in the library-"

"And it's empty, right? No one's around," San murmured against your lips, his breath warm and comforting. He took another step closer, his body now pressed against yours, leaving no room for doubt or fear. You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest so hard it felt like it might just burst.

He lifted you up without effort, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and carried you over to a quiet, secluded corner of the library. The soft cushions of an old armchair were a welcome relief as he set you down, his hands never leaving your body. San's gaze was filled with desire, yet tinged with caution.

He started kissing your neck, his hands moving down your body before grabbing your skirt and lifting it. You felt the cold chair against your bare skin and shivered from the excitement. You didn't know what you were doing, but you knew you wanted him.

San's hand slid up your thigh, his thumb brushing against the lace of your panties. You gasped, your eyes snapping open. The reality of the situation hit you like a cold shower. "W-What are we doing?" You whispered, your voice trembling.

He pulled back, his gaze searching yours. "I couldn't help myself. If we do this," he said, his voice hoarse with desire, "we can't take it back."

You bit your bottom lip, contemplating his words. Your mind raced with the consequences, but your body craved his touch. "I know," you murmured, nodding slightly. "But I don't want to take it back."

San studied your face, his eyes filled with a mix of want and hesitation. Finally, with a low groan, he leaned in and claimed your mouth again, his hand moving to cup your breast through your shirt. You arched into the touch, a soft moan escaping you. His fingers deftly unhooked your bra, and his hand moved to caress the soft skin, his thumb flicking over your nipple. The sensation was overwhelming, and you felt a warm wetness spread between your legs.

You reached your hand as far as you could, tugging at his belt and the buttons of his pants. San's hand moved from your waist to your wrist, stopping you gently. He pulled away from the kiss, his breath ragged. "Let me."

He knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushed your skirt higher and slid your panties aside. His touch was featherlight, sending waves of pleasure through your body as he kissed and licked at your inner thighs. You whimpered, the anticipation driving you wild.

Finally, his mouth found your center, and you gasped as he took you in. San's tongue danced over your sensitive flesh, tasting and teasing you until you thought you would lose your mind. Your hands gripped the armrests of the chair, knuckles white from the effort of not pushing him away.

"O-Oh my god, San-" you breathed his name, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. You felt your core clench around nothing, and the sensation was like nothing you had ever experienced before. His movements grew more deliberate, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

His hands caressing your thighs, his eyes remained locked on yours, watching the play of emotions across your face as he worked his magic. You squirmed, unable to hold back the moans that bubbled up from deep within your chest. The warmth of his breath and the flick of his tongue against your most sensitive spot had you teetering on the edge of a cliff, desperately craving release.

"Mmmh!" you gasped as San's tongue worked its way inside of you, stroking you with the perfect amount of pressure and speed. Your legs tightened around him, and you threw your head back, unable to control the sounds escaping your mouth. The pleasure was unlike anything you had ever felt, and you knew you were close to climaxing.

"I-I'm close," you tug at his hair, making sure to avoid his glasses. "Right there, fuck!" You didn't know how to be quiet, the pleasure was too intense. San's eyes flashed with something primal and he groaned against your pussy, the vibrations making you shiver.

With a final flick of his tongue and a suck on your clit, you felt your orgasm crash over you like a wave, your body convulsing as you rode the peak. You clung to the chair, your nails digging into the fabric as the pleasure washed over you in waves. San didn't stop, instead, he kept licking and kissing until you were panting and begging for mercy.

"Please," you gasped, your voice hoarse. "I can't-"

"One more," San murmured, his eyes dark with desire as he slid a finger inside of you, curling it in a way that made your eyes roll back in your head. The sensation was exquisite, and you could feel yourself climbing again, your muscles tightening around his digit. He watched you, his eyes hooded and focused, as he brought you closer to the brink once more.

With a final, deep thrust of his finger, you came again, your body shaking and quivering as the orgasm ripped through you. San sat back on his haunches, his face flushed with arousal as he took in the sight of you, sprawled out on the chair, panting and glowing.

"W-Where'd you learn to do-" you pause, pointing below. "…That…"

San's eyes crinkled at the corners with a hint of amusement. "Sweetie, I'm ten years older than you." he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a fresh wave of heat through your core. "I've had time to learn a few things." He leaned in, kissing you gently before sitting up.

He undoes his tie with swift, practiced movements, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice thick with need. You feel your heart race faster, his words a sweet aphrodisiac.

"Forget what I said earlier about staying professional." he almost growled, fiddling with his belt now. "I could give you everything you need."

You nodded, feeling your own need pulsing through your veins. "But we should be quick," you managed to say, though your voice was thick with lust. "Someone could come in."

"Then you're going to have to stay quiet," San warned with a smoldering look, his eyes dark with desire. He stood up, his pants now unbuttoned, revealing his erection that strained against the fabric of his boxers. You felt your mouth go dry as you stared at him, unable to believe that this was really happening.

He pushed his boxers down just enough for his cock to come out, and you felt your mouth water at the sight of him. San was well endowed, and the way his cock stood proudly before you was incredibly arousing. He stepped closer, and you reached out tentatively to touch him.

Your hand wrapped around his shaft, and he sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're so big," you murmured, your voice filled with wonder. "And so…strong."

San's hand covered yours, guiding you in a gentle stroking motion. "Yeah," he said, his voice strained. "But I'll be gentle."

You nodded, feeling a thrill of excitement at his words. He stepped closer, his cock now brushing against your stomach, leaving a trail of wetness. He moves it toward your entrance, and you grip the armrests of the chair tightly, bracing yourself.

"Ready?" San asked, his voice a low growl. You nodded, unable to speak as he pushed into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You felt a slight burn, but it was overshadowed by the overwhelming feeling of fullness. He was so much larger than anyone you've been with before, and it was a bit terrifying but mostly exhilarating.

He paused, giving you a moment to adjust before pulling out slightly and pushing back in. You let out a soft whimper, and he leaned in to kiss you again, his hand moving to cup your cheek. The gentle gesture helped to ease the tension in your body, and you started to relax into the sensation.

"You feel amazing." San whispered against your lips, his eyes searching yours as he began to move his hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm. You nodded, biting your bottom lip to keep from crying out as he filled you completely. His movements grew stronger, each thrust sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body.

The sound of the chair creaking under the weight of your passion filled the quiet library, the only other noise the muffled sounds of your breathing and the occasional soft whine that slipped from your mouth. San's grip on your hips tightened, his pace increasing as he lost himself in the moment.

"F-Fuck-" you try your best to stay quiet, but it's getting increasingly difficult as San's hips piston into you. The chair squeaks underneath you, and the thought of getting caught is almost too much to handle. You lean back, arching your back, giving him deeper access. San's eyes never leave yours, his strokes becoming more and more demanding as he chases his own release.

He leaned forward, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs rolling over your nipples. The added sensation was too much, and you bit back a moan as your orgasm began to build once more. San's eyes widened at the sight of you, lost in pleasure, and he picked up the pace, his strokes becoming more urgent.

"Fuck, I love you," you murmur, the words slipping out unbidden. San's eyes flash with something akin to surprise, and then his expression softens.

"I love you too, Y/N," he says, his voice thick with emotion. His thrusts become more urgent, his eyes never leaving yours as he drives you closer to the edge. You feel your body tightening around him, and you know you're about to come again.

"I-I can't-" you whimpered, your voice strained as your second orgasm built up. "Too much-" San's eyes never left yours, his movements becoming more erratic as he felt your muscles tighten around him. You felt his cock swell inside you, and he groaned against your neck.

With one final, deep thrust, San came, his warmth filling you completely. He stilled, his breaths coming out in harsh gasps. You felt your own climax peak and crash over you, your body quivering in his arms. For a moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing and the beating of your hearts.

San leaned in and kissed you again, this time more tenderly. "I'm sorry," he murmured against your lips. "I didn't mean to go that far. I really just…couldn't help myself."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "It's okay," you whispered, your voice still shaky. "I didn't either."

"You're, uh, on birth control right?" San's voice was filled with concern, breaking the momentary silence.

The reality of the situation washed over you, and you nodded. "Yes, I am."

San let out a sigh of relief, his body relaxing slightly as he pulled out of you. You felt the warmth of him leave you and immediately missed the connection. He bent down and kissed you softly before helping you to stand, adjusting your clothing with gentle hands.

"You, um, really love me?" San's voice was a mix of shock and hope. He held you at arm's length, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. The question was a knife to your heart, but you couldn't lie, not now.

"Yeah," you whispered, the truth finally out in the open. "I've been trying to ignore it, but I can't anymore."

San's eyes searched yours for a moment before he sighed happily. "You're adorable." He kissed you again, a smile playing on his lips. "But we have to be careful." He pulled away, looking around the library, reminding you of the precarious situation you were in.

"Whatever, old guy." You playfully punched his arm, trying to lighten the mood. San chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

[linoxpudding]

Intern (Pt 1)- Lee Know

summary: during your six-month internship as skz stylist, you start crushing on him—what starts as harmless flirting soon grows into something more

pairing: lee know x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, humor

word count: 3742 words

a/n: this series is based on this concept we did a voting poll on—thank you for participating and showing so much love!

Intern Series: Part Two

Masterlist

~°~

The first time you stepped into the JYP building, your hands were shaking with both nervousness and excitement. It was the beginning of your styling internship, a dream you had poured sweat and sleepless nights into. Armed with your sketchpad, a crossbody bag stuffed with emergency safety pins, and a heart full of ambition, you told yourself: Don’t screw this up.

You had done your homework. When you got assigned as a styling intern for SKZ, you took your preparation seriously. Since the night after your mentor gave you the assignment, you stayed up until 3 a.m., watching their music videos, live stages, interviews, and even casual airport appearances. You took detailed notes about their individual fashion preferences.

You told yourself to stay focused, keep your head down, and make a good impression because if this internship went well, there was a high chance of being hired full-time by the company.

The hallway buzzed with the energy of people who had long since grown used to the rhythm of stardom. You were the newcomer, the wide-eyed intern trailing behind your mentor stylist like a puppy, trying to absorb every little detail — how the stylists laid out the racks by color, how accessories were paired last minute, how the idols lit up when they liked a look. And then your eyes found him.

Lee Minho.

He wasn’t the loudest in the room, no, he was far from it. He was perched near the corner mirror, scrolling on his phone, brows slightly furrowed. He had this aura — quiet, detached, intense — like he was perfectly content in his own little world. And yet, your eyes were locked on him.

“You’re staring.”

You blinked, caught off-guard by the chirpy voice beside you. Han Jisung was grinning, an unopened bottle of water in his hand as he leaned toward you teasingly.

“No, I’m not,” you lied.

“Don’t worry. Everyone falls for Minho hyung at least once,” he said with a wink. “It’s the cheekbones. And the way he’s mean but not actually mean.”

“I wasn’t—” You stopped mid-denial when Minho glanced in your direction. Your eyes met for a fraction of a second before he turned away again, pretending to fix his sleeves.

“See?” Jisung chuckled.

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying not to smile. “You’re very confident for someone I just met.”

“Hi, I’m Han Jisung. Rapper, genius, snack hoarder, and chaos king,” he said with a bow.

You laughed. “Y/N. Intern, chaos coordinator, and apparently a known starer.”

He beamed. “We’ll get along great.”

Before you could reply, your mentor stylist clapped her hands to gather attention. “Everyone, can I have a moment?”

The boys turned one by one, murmuring greetings. Your heart sped up when eight pairs of eyes landed on you—including one very unreadable stare from the corner.

“This is Y/N,” your mentor said. “She’s the new styling intern assigned to your team for the next six months. She’ll be helping with fittings, accessories, stage prep, and hopefully keeping Han Jisung from dyeing his own hair again.”

“I swear that only happened once,” Jisung whined.

You bowed slightly. “I’m really excited to work with you all.”

Bang Chan came forward first, offering a warm handshake. “Welcome. Don’t let these guys scare you.”

Hyunjin gave a dramatic gasp. “Me? I’m an angel.”

Felix smiled sweetly, waving both hands. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

Then, your gaze flicked to Minho.

He gave a small nod. No smile. No handshake. Just that same quiet, composed expression that made your skin buzz. You told yourself not to take it personally.

The rest of the members greeted you excitedly, making you feel at ease. Your chest warmed at the sincere welcome, each of them so wildly different from the next—but all kind, open, and vibrant in their own way.

*******************

The days passed in a blur of hangers, lint rollers, and steaming oversized blazers. The boys were friendly and made your work fun. Felix always complimented your fashion choices, Seungmin offered sarcastic banter and teased you, Hyunjin was your gossip partner, and Changbin gave you surprisingly helpful gym tips. Han quickly became your food buddy—your shared obsession with trying new restaurants meant you were always ordering food delivery together during late-night fittings. Chan was respectful and constantly checked in, making sure you weren’t overwhelmed. And Jeongin, the maknae, affectionately called you noona, often hanging around you like a little shadow when the others teased him too much. 

And Minho?

He wasn't exactly warm, but he wasn’t cold either. He tossed out sarcastic remarks and clever retorts, never quite letting you in—but never truly pushing you away. He’d roll his eyes when you teased him, but you swore you saw the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips right after. There was a tension there, simmering quietly beneath the surface. And you… well, you were hopelessly drawn to it.

“You pinned this unevenly,” he murmured once, as you adjusted the collar of his shirt.

You glanced up, noticing the tiniest smirk on his lips. “You have a very picky neckline, Minho-ssi.”

“It’s Lee Know,” he corrected, eyes narrowing.

“But your name is Minho.”

He didn’t reply, only looked away, clearly pretending he wasn’t affected. You didn’t miss the way his ears flushed pink again.

*******************

Few weeks passed, and your crush on Lee Minho didn’t fade. If anything, it got worse.

It wasn’t just his looks—though, let’s be honest, that was a huge part of it. It was the way he moved, so effortlessly precise, the way he always seemed like he was holding back—like there was something underneath that cold exterior, but he refused to let anyone see it.

And that only made you want to push harder.

Your teasing didn’t stop. If anything, it became a routine. Every morning, you greeted him with an overly cheerful, “Good morning, sunshine,” just to watch him roll his eyes. You stole glances whenever he wasn’t looking, memorizing the way his jaw tensed in concentration, the way his lips pursed slightly when he was focused.

The longer this went on, the more you realized he wasn’t actually ignoring you anymore. At first, it was subtle. You’d catch him watching you through the mirror when you were fixing his accessories, but the second your eyes met, he’d look away, pretending he wasn’t. You’d brush past him in the dressing room, and while before he used to step away without a word, now you noticed the way his fingers grazed yours, just for a second, like he wasn’t sure if he meant to do it.

It was driving you insane.

Because for all the tiny moments of warmth he let slip, there was always a wall he refused to let down completely. He was softer now, his usual sharp remarks lacking their previous bite, but there was still a distance, an invisible line he wouldn’t cross.

It only made you want him more.

One particular evening, after a long day of rehearsals, you were fixing his stage outfit, adjusting the belt around his waist. His shirt had ridden up slightly, and your fingers accidentally grazed the bare skin of his stomach.

Minho tensed.

It was brief— so quick that anyone else wouldn’t have noticed— but you did.

You looked up, meeting his gaze through the mirror. “Relax. I’m just doing my job.”

“You take your job very seriously, don’t you?” His voice was quiet, unsteady.

“Of course.” You grinned. “Besides, I’d hate for you to trip and fall on stage because your stylist didn’t tighten your belt properly.”

Minho exhaled through his nose, something between a scoff and a laugh. “Wouldn’t that be tragic.”

You patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Minho. I’d catch you.”

He turned to look at you then, really look at you. Something flickered behind his eyes, something you couldn’t quite place. Then, just like always, it was gone.

“You talk too much.”

“And you never talk at all,” you shot back.

For the first time since you met him, his lips twitched—not quite a smile, but close. “Maybe that’s why this works.”

Your heart did something stupid in your chest.

Because maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t playing as indifferent as he wanted you to believe.

*******************

The flirtation began slowly. Playful, subtle — like a game neither of you admitted to playing.

“You have something in your hair,” you said one morning, plucking a nonexistent speck off his bangs. Your fingers brushed his forehead, and he flinched.

“You’re annoying.”

“But you love it.”

He didn’t respond, but his lips twitched — not a smile, not really, but something that made your heart skip.

And it became a rhythm. A comment here, a teasing glance there. The way your fingers lingered a beat too long when adjusting his rings. The way his eyes always seemed to find yours in the mirror while you fixed someone else’s outfit.

The rest of the members noticed it before either of you did.

“Just date already,” Changbin muttered one day under his breath while watching you and Minho argue over sock colors.

Minho turned bright red and threw a pair of socks at him.

But the truth was — you weren’t in love.

Not yet.

What you had was a crush. A dizzying, butterflies-in-the-stomach, blushing-when-he-looks-your-way kind of crush. The kind that made you dress a little better each morning. That made you learn how to make his favorite iced coffee. That made your day when he, quietly and without a word, handed you a hairclip when yours had broken.

It wasn’t serious.

But it felt like it could be something.

If only you could break through that thick, tsundere wall of his.

And if only he’d stop looking at you like that — like maybe he was harboring a little crush too.

*******************

You successfully completed two months with the team and the novelty of chaos was beginning to wear off. Not because you didn’t enjoy it—you did, immensely—but because chaos was now your norm. Early mornings, late nights, and endless outfit changes in between. If you weren’t hauling a steamer, you were chasing Han around with lint rollers because he always sat somewhere dusty right before a shoot.

You were packing up at the end of the day, with only the band members around, before you heard Chan’s voice.

“Group dinner tonight,” Chan announced, looking both exhausted and excited. “Everyone, don’t bail. That includes you, Minho.”

The dancer in question raised a brow, leaning against the wall. “Didn’t say I was bailing.”

“You always have that look like you might,” Seungmin chimed in with a smirk.

You stood in the corner, folding costume pieces into a garment bag, half-listening until Hyunjin slung an arm around your shoulder dramatically.

“You’re coming too,” he said.

“What? Me?”

“You’re part of the crew now.” He waved at the others. “She survived two months of our collective nonsense. She deserves tteokbokki.”

Han popped his head in from behind the doorframe. “And kimchi pancakes. And beef bulgogi.”

“And peace,” you added dryly, zipping the bag. “Which I will never get with you guys.”

Felix giggled from where he sat on the floor, helping Jeongin lace up his boots. “That means you like us.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, shaking your head. Changbin bumped your shoulder, eyes kind. “Come on. You need a break.”

You finally relented with a soft, “Okay, okay. I’ll go.”

*******************

The restaurant was cozy, with warm wooden booths and steamy windows from all the hotpots bubbling on tables. The place smelled like garlic and soy sauce and warmth—comfort food at its finest. You sat between Hyunjin and Felix, across from Chan and Minho, whose usual expressionless face hadn’t changed since you walked in.

You tried not to be obvious, but you kept stealing glances.

He was in a black hoodie, sleeves pushed to his elbows, his silver bracelet glinting each time he picked up his water. He rarely looked up. He listened more than he spoke. And yet, when he did speak, the entire table naturally gave him the floor.

You tried not to stare. You really, really tried. But the way his hair slightly curled around his forehead, the way he methodically arranged his chopsticks and napkin before the food even arrived—it was all infuriatingly attractive.

A waiter arrived to take your orders, and the table erupted into chaos as everyone argued over which sides to order. You instinctively leaned forward, flicking your eyes to Minho.

“Do you want tteokbokki or kimchi fried rice?” you asked casually, heart hammering like it was some kind of proposal.

Minho glanced at you, then at the menu. “Both.”

“Bold,” you teased, nudging Hyunjin with your elbow. “Should we listen to the king’s command?”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “If we don’t, he’ll make that face again.”

Minho didn’t even blink. “What face?”

“That one,” Felix snickered, pointing across the table. “The one where you look like you’ve already imagined five different ways to kill us.”

You giggled, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. 

Halfway through the meal, Chan was recounting a chaotic photoshoot where Hyunjin had nearly fallen off a prop chair. Everyone was laughing, Hyunjin dramatically reenacting the fall beside you, his hand grazing your arm.

You laughed until your eyes teared, wiping them carefully with a napkin. When you leaned back into your seat, still giggling, your gaze drifted across the table.

Minho was already looking at you. Just for a second. Then he looked away, like nothing had happened. But your stomach dipped. You busied yourself pouring water into your glass.

Just then, Jeongin called you, “Noona, if you could only eat one banchan (side dish) for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

“Easy,” you said without thinking. “Sweet and spicy anchovies.”

A hush fell over the table.

Minho blinked slowly. “You have no taste.”

You gasped. “Excuse me?!”

“They’re chewy nightmares,” Minho deadpanned.

“I like the crunch!”

“They squeak against your teeth,” Seungmin said with a visible shudder.

“That’s the charm!”

Han leaned over to Chan, quietly whispering, “Hyung, I give it two weeks before they either kill each other or make out.”

Minho, somehow hearing him despite the chatter, didn’t react. Just took another sip of water. But the corner of his mouth curled. Barely. Meanwhile, the bickering continued at the table as everyone started debating about the best banchan.

*******************

Later, after dinner, the group lingered outside in the cool night air. Some of the guys were discussing whether to go for dessert, while others were calling it a night. You stood off to the side, while carrying your styling bags, laughing about how Seungmin was complaining to you about Chan nearly spilled sauce all over his white hoodie when Han approached.

“You need a ride?” he asked.

You blinked. “Oh…I was going to grab a cab or bus, it’s not too far—”

“Nope,” Han cut you off with a smile. “You’re not standing at a bus stop at midnight with arms full of styling bags. I’m driving you.”

“I’ve done it before—”

“C’mon, me and Minho hyung live nearby. We can drop you off. No big deal.”

You glanced back at Minho. He wasn’t looking at you—his hands were shoved deep into his pockets, eyes fixed on a vague point down the street.

You were conflicted but seeing Han’s pleading eyes, you finally agreed, “Thanks, Han.”

“Of course,” he grinned while taking the bags from you, you insisted you were fine, but he still carried it.

The walk to the car was casual, filled with light chatter and the occasional laugh from Han as he nudged Hyunjin about something he said earlier. You trailed behind them, the cool air nipping at your skin.

As you reached the car, Han popped the trunk open and helped you stash your things. Then, without a word, he circled around to the back seat and slid in, leaving the passenger door wide open.

You blinked at him. “Wait, aren’t you driving—”

Han suddenly yawned, very theatrically. “Ugh. Actually, I’m too tired to drive. I’ll sit in the back and crash. Hyung, let her ride shotgun.”

Your eyes flicked to Minho, who was already in the driver’s seat, expression unreadable as he adjusted the mirrors.  

 “You coming or not?” Minho asked, looking at you.

You hesitated, just for a second, then climbed in and shut the door.

The moment the seat clicked beneath you, Han muttered, barely loud enough to hear, “Perfect.”

Minho didn’t say anything. But his jaw tensed just a little, and he started the car.

The ride began in silence, broken only by the hum of the engine and the quiet shuffle of Han finding a playlist on his phone.

“Hope you don’t mind a detour,” Han said from the back, voice teasing. “Minho’s the designated night driver. He likes to take the scenic route.”

You glanced at Minho, who still didn’t look at you—but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting off a smirk.

And just like that, the car pulled away from the curb, the city lights casting soft glows through the windows as Han leaned back, playing cupid from the shadows.

Minho didn’t speak. His hands stayed steady on the wheel, eyes fixed ahead. The glow from the dashboard lit up the sharp line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the quiet concentration on his face. You tried not to stare.

From the back seat, Han was pretending to scroll through music, but you could practically feel the smugness radiating off him.

“I can play a playlist,” you offered, breaking the silence, voice a little too casual. “If you want.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I got one,” Han said, and almost immediately, a mellow beat started playing—a dreamy, slow-tempo track that sounded suspiciously like it was chosen with a mood in mind.

You glanced at him through the rearview mirror. He caught your eye and winked.

Of course. He definitely planned this.

The car turned down a quieter road, and the noise of the city faded into the distance. You shifted in your seat, unsure if the air felt warmer or if it was just Minho’s presence beside you, silent but unignorable.

“You really didn’t have to drive me,” you said, mostly to say something. Anything.

Minho’s eyes flicked toward you, “Didn’t mind.”

You waited for more, but that was it. Just two words, perfectly even, like he was keeping everything locked tight.

“Minho hyung’s always like that,” Han piped up from the back, leaning forward slightly. “All gruff and broody, but secretly soft. Like a very stylish cactus.”

You snorted, covering your mouth with your hand. Minho’s knuckles tightened slightly on the wheel, but this time, you caught the smirk.

“I’m not broody,” he said quietly.

Han snickered but didn’t argue further. The playlist shifted to another soft, melodious, romantic track, and no one reached to change it. Minho must’ve noticed the way your arms shifted uncomfortably in your lap, because after a while, his voice cut through the soft music.

“You should’ve let someone carry those bags earlier.”

You blinked, looking over. “Huh?”

“At dinner. All those styling bags. You were struggling.”

You scoffed lightly, but a smile tugged at your lips. “I’ve carried more. I’m fine.”

Minho didn’t respond right away. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel, slow and rhythmic, like he was working up to something.

“It’s not about whether you can,” he said finally, tone low. “You shouldn’t have to.”

The words weren’t dramatic. Weren’t delivered with any fanfare. But something about the quiet conviction in them made your stomach twist unexpectedly. You glanced at him, only to find him already looking back at the road, jaw set like he regretted saying anything at all.

From the back seat, Han shifted. You peeked over your shoulder—his head was tilted against the window, eyes shut, lips parted slightly. Fake sleeping. Very obviously fake sleeping.

You turned back around, biting back a smile before mumbling, “He’s such a bad actor.”

Minho huffed a laugh under his breath. “I know.”

The car finally pulled up in front of your building. You reached for the door handle, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Thanks again, really. Both of you—”

The click of a door unlocking cut you off.

Your head whipped to the side.

Minho was already stepping out of the car.

You froze. “Wait—what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer. Just rounded the front of the car in a few long strides, expression unreadable as always. When he reached your side, he opened the door for you—not with exaggerated politeness, but with quiet certainty, like it wasn’t even a question.

Your eyes met his.

Up close, he looked unfairly good under the streetlight—eyelashes casting soft shadows, hair falling slightly into his eyes. He didn’t say anything, just waited, one hand resting on the top of the door.

You stepped out slowly, surprised. “You didn’t have to…”

“I know,” he said simply.

You paused, suddenly aware of how close he was. Of how the air between you was warmer now, more charged than before. His gaze lingered on yours for a second too long before he stepped back, giving you space.

From behind you, Han let out a dramatic snore.

You turned to glance at him—his head now resting awkwardly against the seatbelt, clearly committed to his fake-sleep bit.

Minho sighed. “He’s gonna make me carry him upstairs at this rate.”

You laughed softly. “Good luck.”

Minho shook his head, almost smiling as he silently handed you the bags from the trunk.

You lingered for a second, standing on the sidewalk with your hand still clutching the strap of your bag, unsure if this was the moment to say goodnight or… something else.

“Goodnight,” you said quietly.

Minho met your eyes. “Text me when you’re inside.”

Your heart stuttered. “What?”

He looked away, pretending to adjust something on the car. “Just. To make sure you’re safe.”

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest despite the cool night air. “Okay. I will.”

As you turned to step into the building’s lobby, you swore you heard Han whisper, just loud enough to carry:

“Smooth, hyung.” 

“Shut up,” Minho’s voice echoed from the distance.

You bit back a grin as the elevator dinged open.

Once inside your apartment, you dropped your bags and leaned against the door for a moment, eyes closed, pulse steadying.

Smooth, indeed.

--------------

Permanent Taglist:

@kaiyaba @lov3rachan @pixie-felix @ellemir2404 @willowhanji @skzimagines @wavetohannie @jamroses @vietjeb @kayleefriedchicken @kokinu09 @nightmarenyxx @my-neurodivergent-world @shuuporanglinos @silly250 @notmedina127 @thecutiepieme @stay-tiny-things @inlovewithstraykids @skz-ot8-stay @emilyywhyy @havenwithleeknow

Intern Series Taglist:

@ka0ila @captainchrisstan @curlyhairedotaku @casperlynn23 @bluebellsringinghereandthere @diekleinesuesse

[sereia4skz]

Hiii I'm in love with your headcannons! Could I request an imagine/scenario/headcannon with the Stray kids members where reader subdrops emotionally after a particularly rough session? Would love to see their reactions anf how they would comfort and take care of reader 🥰

headcannons | you subdrop after a scene

pairing: ot8!straykids x reader

genre: comfort

warnings: implied sex, subdrop

masterlist: A-Side (texts) | B-Side (written)

It was a rougher session than usual, emotionally intense, a little humiliating, and just physically overwhelming. Once the adrenaline and endorphins fade, you're quiet, teary, feeling distant, classic signs of subdrop. 

BANGCHAN

He notices immediately. The second your energy shifts, he’s wrapping you in a blanket and sitting you in his lap like you’re breakable.

“There you go, baby. I’ve got you. You don’t have to be okay yet.” His voice is gentle but grounded, guiding you through it. He’ll whisper affirmations: "I'm so proud of you," "You're safe now," "You're not alone." 

He doesn't leave your side for a second, even carries you to the bathroom or helps you get cleaned up. Expect forehead kisses, water with a straw, and his shirt draped over your body.

Ultimate comfort dom. No guilt, no shame, just unconditional love. He almost love this more than the sex.

LEEKNOW

He feels it before you even speak. One look at your expression and he’s already wiping your face with a warm cloth and cradling your hand.

Minho doesn’t say much at first, he just does. He gets you a glass of water, your favorite snacks, and a heating pad if you need it. When you finally sniffle or lean into him, he cups your cheek and murmurs, “That was a lot, wasn’t it, sweetheart? Thank you for trusting me.”

He’ll spoon you silently under five blankets, surrounded by the kittens, until you fall asleep, hand tracing your back, whispering little comforts like “Still with me? Still mine?”

CHANGBIN

Panic mode, but contained. His first instinct is to fix it. He gets you warm clothes, tissues, and cuddles you with his whole chest.

“Hey, hey, come here, you're okay. I’ve got you, baby. Nothing’s wrong, I’m here.”

His tone is firm but affectionate. He’d rock you back and forth, even if you're just holding onto him without speaking. He's freaking out internally wondering if he used too much strength.

If you cry, he does too, quietly, behind your shoulder, because he hates seeing you hurting, especially when it might’ve been caused by something he did (even consensually). He’ll probably apologize a hundred times even though it wasn’t his fault.

HYUNJIN

Softest, gentlest presence imaginable. He immediately wraps you up in something plush and tucks you against his chest, whispering in your ear.

“You were so good, baby. So brave. Do you want to talk? Or just want me to hold you?”

He’ll stroke your hair, pet your cheeks, rock you gently. He might hum to soothe you, quiet lullabies or just soft breathing to help regulate yours.

Tells you over and over how much he adores you. “You’re mine, okay? I’ll always take care of you.”

He takes the drop very seriously. His aftercare game is god-tier, lotions, snacks, fuzzy socks, emotional validation. The aftercare equivalent of being romanced into bed, roses and candles.

HAN

Full-body guilt spiral if he thinks he pushed you too far, even though he knows it was consensual. He gets quiet, eyes scanning you nonstop.

“Shit- hey, are you okay? Wait, no, dumb question! Come here.”

 He wraps you up immediately, rocking you, holding your hands. He babbles soft reassurances slightly too loudly, to keep you grounded: “You’re safe, you’re mine, we’re good, yeah? You did so well. I’m so proud of you.”

Might cry with you, honestly. But then he makes it his mission to bring you back to yourself, blankets, giggles, warm food, cuddles. Will 100% turn into a baby koala and not leave your side until you laugh at least once.

FELIX

Sweetest touch, lowest voice, he goes ultra nurturing. As soon as he sees your eyes go hazy or teary, he’s cupping your face gently.

“Angel… are you dropping? Come here, let’s breathe together.”

He holds you so tenderly it feels holy. He’ll lie with you chest-to-chest, heartbeat to heartbeat, stroking your hair and whispering affirmations: “You’re so safe with me. Thank you for letting me see all of you. You’re not alone.” 

If you need words, he gives them. If you need quiet, he gives that too. He’ll do little things like kiss your hands, make you tea, keep the lights dim and music soft.

SEUNGMIN

He notices the second your eyes go distant. You don’t even have to say anything, he sits you up, helps you get comfortable, and holds your face between his hands.

“Hey. Look at me. You with me?”

Once he’s sure you’re grounded, he bundles you up and just sits with you. He’s not overly emotional, but he gives you exactly what you need: reassurance without condescension.

“It’s okay to feel weird right now. That’s normal, love. I’ve got you.” 

 He’ll feed you little snacks, give you quiet space if you need it, and offer soft, real praise like: “You were amazing tonight. I’m proud of how strong you are.”

I.N

He freezes for a second if it’s his first time seeing you drop, but then his caretaker instincts kick in hard.

“Oh no, no, come here. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

 He’ll get serious real fast, guiding you to breathe, gently rocking you against his chest while rubbing your back. His voice gets lower, steady, trying to be your anchor.

“You’re safe. You’re mine. It’s okay to cry, baby.”

He'll sit with you through every wave of emotion, keeping you wrapped in his hoodie or his arms or both.

Later, when you’re calmer, he’ll kiss your forehead and pout. “Don’t scare me like that. Tell me next time, okay? I wanna take care of you right.”

taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0 @beal-o @hug4helios @oksullen @rileylovescats @dreamyfelixx @yxna-bliss @turtledove824 @enhacolor @skzz0213 @hannahlue @purplelady85 @velvetmoonlght @inishij @bangchanspineapple @straykids4lifeee @peskybirdysya @gnabsss

taglist pt2: @zayn-210 @wolfhallows4 @katsukis1wife @sammhisphere

[parkerslatte]

Public Knowledge

Lee Felix x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: minor hate comments.

Summary: When Felix accidentally outs his relationship, Y/N does her best to reassure that it is okay.

Stray Kids Masterlist

The day was moving extremely slow for Y/N as she sat behind the counter at the bakery. There had barely been any customers the entire morning– the rain hammering down outside the window was the reason why. It was nearing her lunch break and Y/N had never been more grateful for it. Felix’s apartment wasn’t too far away and it would be nice to see him as she hadn’t seen him for a few days due to his busy schedule. 

Y/N’s eyes bore into the clock, counting down the seconds until she could leave. It’s not that she didn’t enjoy her job– she loved it. But on slow days like this one, she would much rather spend time with her boyfriend than sit alone behind a counter. 

“Y/N,” the owner called out to her. “You can go on your break early today. There doesn’t seem like there are going to be many more people coming in.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N questioned, standing up straight. 

“Yes,” the older woman said. “Now go and see that boyfriend of yours.”

Y/N smiled and thanked the older woman. She was one of the only people who knew about her relationship with Felix. After all, when he had a little bit of free time, he would always get something from the bakery. Of course not without his usual flirtatious comments towards Y/N. 

Y/N collected her bag and jacket, zipping it up and pulling her hood up to protect her from the rain. Her phone was tucked in her coat pocket– which wasn’t out of the ordinary at all. What was strange, however, was the incessant vibrating. Pulling it out, Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. 

Many notifications came through on Y/N’s phone. Every single second, Y/N received a new follower, comment and message on instagram. Messages came through from Chan and the others which only confused Y/N even more. 

Y/N clicked on her Instagram page– with great difficulty from the amount of notifications coming through. Her account only had a few hundred followers at the start of the day but now it had over ten thousand. Comments flooded her photos and the likes on the few photos she had posted were instantly in the thousands. 

‘Stay away from Felix’

‘Is this Felix’s girlfriend? She seems normal?’

‘I can’t believe he chose you, you ugly bitch!’

‘Guys she is clearly the reason why Felix has been happy. It’s not like any of you had a chance anyway!’

‘Just leave her alone!!’

With a sigh, Y/N silenced her phone before pressing on the messages she had been receiving from Chan and the others. She sent them each a single quick message before leaving the small bakery. 

***

The way Y/N found Felix in his apartment when she closed the door behind her broke her heart. He was slumped on the couch, tears falling freely down his cheeks as he scrolled on his phone. The room was silent except Felix’s sniffles. Y/N allowed her bag to fall to the floor as she stepped further into the apartment. 

Whatever Felix was looking at on his phone must have been important as he hadn’t even realised she had entered the apartment. Y/N bit her lip at the sight of the tears and his red flushed cheeks from where he had wiped them away. 

“Felix,” Y/N said gently, taking a seat on the couch next to him. 

He didn’t look up from his phone, it was as if he was in a trance, scrolling through hundreds and hundreds of comments. 

Y/N gently pried his hand away from his face and  only then did Felix finally look at her. Almost immediately his body seemed to seek her as he leaned into her touch. For a while they sat in silence and Felix didn’t seem to be the one who wanted to break it. 

“What happened?” Y/N asked, no anger in her voice—just curiosity. 

“It was during my livestream,” Felix said as he gripped onto her hand tightly— as if he were afraid she would leave. “It was a stupid comment I made about my bracelet. I said that Y/N got it for me. I didn’t say anything else but every single comment was asking who you were. I tried to ignore them until some people had already found your name. I ended my live right after that and so many people are trying to find evidence of you already.

“Felix, listen to me,” Y/N said as she tightened her grip on his hands. “I knew what I was getting into when I began dating an idol. As much as I wanted to keep our relationship private, this was bound to happen eventually.”

Y/N pulled her phone out and handed it to Felix. “People have found my account already and have been flooding the comment section.”

“Can I see?” Felix croaked. 

Y/N nodded before handing Felix her phone. “Just know that I don’t take any of them to heart.”

Felix’s eyes filled with tears the moment his eyes scanned over the hurtful comments left under her posts. “How could they say things like this?”

“Because they are jealous,” Y/N commented. “I’m not going to let those comments get to me because they don’t matter. It’s not like they had a chance with you anyway– especially when they reveal themselves to be a vile person. And besides, from the looks of it, there are a lot more people who are just curious rather than hateful. There seem to even be more positive comments than bad.”

Felix sighed and locked Y/N’s phone and let it fall to the couch. “I still shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Love, it’s shocking to me that you haven’t slipped up before now. Remember the photos you posted when we went back to Australia for a few days and my legs and shoes were shown in the background of one of your photos? You made your sister wear the same thing so people could see her outfit on the vlog you made and think it was just her.”

Felix hugged a laugh before he wrapped his arms around Y/N and pulled her close to him as they relaxed down on the couch.  

“I’m still sorry,” Felix muttered against her forehead. 

“Stop apologising,” Y/N replied as she twisted the end of his hair between her fingers. “I know there will be people who will always send me nasty comments because I am associated with you but I know that you will protect me from it because that is the kind of person you are.” 

Y/N pressed a soft kiss to Felix’s cheek and he finally allowed a smile to slip onto his face. 

“And maybe if you don’t address anything, people will begin to forget?” Y/N continued. “It’s wishful thinking as people have already connected the dots and compared some of the locations of my photos with yours.”

“The company will make me address it at some point,” Felix said.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Y/N said. “Right now, all I want to do is lay here with you and watch some shitty film and cheer you up, because I prefer you when you smile.”

At her comment, a smile immediately lit up on Felix's face and it melted Y/N’s heart. His arms circled her waist before he pulled her as close to him as he could. 

“What about work?” Felix questioned. 

“I can explain the situation to the owner,” Y/N replied. “She knows I’m dating an idol. She’ll think its a blessing in disguise at how much traction the cafe is going to get.”

A soft laugh left Felix’s mouth as he leaned closer to her. “I love you,” he muttered as his lips brushed over hers. 

“I love you too,” Y/N replied, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

Slowly, Felix leaned forward as he pressed his lips firmly against hers. As he pulled her down onto the couch, their lips disconnected as Y/N let out a loud laugh, which in turn caused Felix to laugh. The couple passed kisses and soft touches between each other as they relaxed on the couch, tangled up with one another. Their phones, still vibrating with a notification every second, completely abandoned. 

[sheerfreesia007]

Certified Lip Inspector

Pairing: Lee Felix x Reader

Word count: 1,732

Content warnings: Fluff, kissing

Summary: Felix keeps obsessively asking if his lips look weird, using it as a cheeky excuse to get your attention. What starts as playful teasing slowly unravels into tender moments that reveal just how deeply he craves your affection.

A/N: Divider was created by @adornedwithlight, thank you for sharing your dividers with tumblr!

SKZ Taglist: @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @inlovewithstraykids, @channiesrightasscheek, @kaiyaba

@bookswillfindyouaway, @m-325

Yeobo: Honey

“Yeobo, do you think my lips look weird?” Felix asks you as the two of you are laying on the couch in your apartment one night. The two of you had spent the day gaming together for hours before breaking for dinner and now the two of you were just relaxing on the couch while the television played in the background and you both scrolled on your phones.

You jolt at his question and turn your head to stare at him bewildered only to find him pouting his lips out dramatically as he checks himself out on his cell phone’s camera. Sitting next to him watching silently as he continues to pout his lips and tilt his head from side to side you furrow your eyebrows at him confused.

”No, they look fine to me.” You answer him and his eyes dart over to you before he lowers his cell phone to pout fully at you which causes your eyes to dart down to his lips as he leans forward.

”You sure?” He asks worriedly and you frown softly at him wondering where this was all coming from. You nod your head at him as your eyes dart from his pout back up to his eyes, you can feel your neck beginning to heat up and you feel your heart thudding heavily in your chest. He had such pretty lush lips and you knew he took great care of them by always using lip scrubs and lip balms that had healing properties. You were actually quite jealous of how pretty and soft his lips looked but you’d never tell him that.

”Absolutely Fe.” You tell him as you raise your hand and poke his pouted mouth which causes him to jerk back and swat at your hand offended while you laugh delightedly. “You have perfectly fine lips. Stop stressing.” You reassure him as you grin over at him after he’s pulled far enough away from you to be at a safe distance. He raises his hands in a karate stance and you laugh at him delightedly before shaking your head.

You’re peering into Hyunjin’s closet helping him reorganize his clothes as the man lounges on the bed. You grab a shirt from a hanger and toss at Hyunjin while grumbling softly.

“I’m supposed to be helping you, not actually doing all the work.” you snip out him and he chuckles softly at your words while still scrolling on his phone before rolling across his bed.

“But you always do it so well. I love it when you reorganize my closet. It always turns out so neat and color coded.” he whines at you while staring at you from the bed. You roll your eyes before focusing back on his closet grumbling softly to yourself. Hyunjin starts to play some soft background music on his speakers while still lounging on the bed as you continue to work in his closet losing yourself in the task. You don’t hear his bedroom door opening or the soft happy hum that Hyunjin lets out at the appearance of the newcomer.

You’re shocked when you see something coming towards you quickly out of the corner of your eye. Jolting back from the thing you nearly trip over your feet but a warm sturdy arm wraps around your lower back and holds you up steadily so that you don’t fall backwards. Hyunjin makes a pleased sound from behind you before gasping softly in delight as you look up at pouting Felix whose eyes are sparkling with amusement.

“Yeobo” he coos at you and you raise an eyebrow at him in question knowing that he’ll have something more to say to you. “Do my lips look weird?” he asks and you stare at him bewildered. Your eyes dart down to his pout and you feel yourself melting inside. Your brain is muddled with confusion of why he would be asking you that, his lips are perfect and you don’t understand his obsession with needing to know if they look weird. You stare at them critically for a moment before you shake your head slowly.

“Felix, you know my answer to that question. You’ve asked me this already.” you tell him as your face morphs into a soft frown while you stare up at him. He grins down at you before pouting his lips once more.

“But Yeobo, I need to know. Do they look weird?” he asks again and your frown darkens slightly as you pull yourself upright while still being held by him.

“No Felix, they don’t look weird.” you answer him and he grins widely at you before wrapping you in a tight hug. You wrap your arms around him and pull him close as you tilt your head up so that you can whisper in his ear. “Has someone been telling you that your lips look weird?” you asked, causing Felix to pull back slightly to look at you with adoring eyes.

“No, I just worry sometimes that they look weird.” he told you and you shake your head at his words before cupping his face gently in your hands.

“You’re perfect Fe. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” you tell him softly and Felix leans into your hands with a soft smile slipping onto his face. Suddenly Hyunjin squeals with delight and you’re reminded that you’re supposed to be reorganizing his closet. You quickly slip out of Felix’s arms and turn back to Hyunjin’s closet trying to get back into the reorganization that you’re doing. You don’t see Felix’s soft scowl directed at Hyunjin or Hyunjin’s soft frown at your actions. Felix moves closer to your side and begins helping you finish reorganizing Hyunjin’s closet.

You’re on your way to the dance studio to meet up with Felix to keep him company for the last bit of his dance practice before the two of you would head out for dinner together. It’s been a crazy couple of days and you haven’t been able to be there or check in with him as often as you normally would because of visiting family that you’ve been taking care of. Tonight was your first free night after they left and you had told Felix that you were having withdrawals of his presence which had made him giggle over the phone before he told you to come visit him towards the end of his practice and he’d take you out to dinner afterwards.

You pass Minho and Hyunjin in the hall on your way to go see Felix and they both grab you into a quick hug before letting you know that Felix is still in there practicing. Hyunjin even winks at you while Minho elbows quickly to get him to stop and tells you to ignore the pabo. You shake your head after the interaction before continuing on your way to the dance studio.

When you get there you knock before slowly opening the door. You spot Felix in the middle of the room running through a dance routine and you move to sit in front of the mirrors that he’s facing. Your eyes follow him like a hawk and your stomach twists with excitement as you watch him move so effortlessly. When the music ends and he stops dancing you stand up and begin clapping which causes him to grin at you before rushing over and wrapping you up in a tight hug.

”Yeobo!” He cries out happily and you laugh at him softly as you hug him back letting yourself settle into the hug for a moment before you pull back slightly to look up at him.

”I missed you.” You admit to him softly and he grins widely at you for a moment before pouting his lips prettily at you as he steps back a step while widening his eyes at you.

”You missed me or my weird lips?” He asked teasingly while still pouting at you. Something snaps within you as your eyes dart down to his lips and see the cute little pout he gives you, you don’t know if it’s because you haven’t seen him in the last couple of days or what but suddenly your hands are reaching up and towards him. You grab onto his shirt and pull him in towards as your head tilts up and you press your lips to his in a deep desperate kiss that has the two of you melting against each other. Felix wraps his arms low around your waist and keeps you pressed flush against him as his head tilts to the side and deepens the kiss even more. You both hum softly before pulling away from each other and you look at him with a raised eyebrow.

”Your lips are perfectly fine Fe. Stop fixating on them. There’s nothing wrong with them.” You tell him exasperatedly while rolling your eyes at him as he smirks down at you. Your eyes dart away from his as realize what you’ve done and hear his soft deep chuckle as your face heats with embarrassment. Felix giggles delightedly before he crowds you up against the mirror caging you in with his forearms pressed to the mirror next to your head.

”But how will I know if they’re okay if you don’t tell me and show me?” He asks huskily and your eyes dart up to his before narrowing with suspicion. Understanding invades your mind and you stare at him for a second before scoffing softly as his grin turns wicked and his eyes heat with desire. He presses in closer to you and you feel yourself lean into his body wanting to be as close as you possibly could to be.

”You just want me to kiss you.” You tell him skeptically and he nods his head eagerly before pouting his lips once more which makes you chuckle softly while rolling your eyes at him. “If you just wanted a kiss all you had to do was ask.” You tease him as your fingers dance up and down his chest flirtatiously which his pout morphs into that devilish grin of his.

”Yeah but I wanted to see how long it would take you to realize that’s what I’ve been asking for.” He said and you grumble at him before yanking him into another deep desperate kiss that he happily reciprocates as his arms wrap around you.

[bbokicidal]

Kinktober 2024 : Schedule

Because of me being quite busy during the month of October, I'll be posting twice a week every week for Kinktober!

There will be 10 posts in total : 1 for each individual member of SKZ (8 total), 1 for the duo of choice, and 1 for all eight members.

Notice: Kinktober 2024 has been discontinued as of 08/22/2024

October 2nd : "Try Harder." - Biting/Scratching - Bangchan When one of your close friends sets you up with his 'best friend' at a Halloween party he's throwing, who turns out to be the man you've been eyeing up at work for the last eight months, the two of you decide to ditch the alcohol and candy for something far sweeter.

Contains : Biting/Scratching, drinking, pining for Chris, rough sex, don't hold back enjoy the ride-

October 4th : "Is That All?" - Wet Dreams / Somnophilia - Lee Know Finding you after a Halloween party asleep in HIS room, Minho decides he doesn't want to bother waking you up and just slides into bed beside you to rest. That was his intention, at least.

Contains : Wet dreams/Somnophilia (sex while asleep), dabbles in dub-con, touching, slow sex (at first), Minho being cautious not to wake you up but failing, dry humping/grinding, clothed sex.

October 9th : "Look At You." - Body Worship / Virginity - Changbin You'd picked out a more risqué costume this year for the party than you had the last, deciding to finally break out of your shell and maybe get a little more than some looks tonight. Though you hadn't expected to find that your best friend - and longtime crush - had also picked something a little more revealing this year as well...

Contains : Virgin!Changbin, body worship, revealing outfits, experienced!reader, shy Binnie, soft sex (at first).

October 11th : "Smile For Me." - Size Difference - Hyunjin There were plenty of cute guys at the party, but one of them had caught your eye. A bit taller than the rest, long hair peeking out from the hooded mask - Maybe it was just your love for masked men, but that was certainly the sexiest Ghostface you'd ever seen.

Contains : Short-ish!Reader, Ghostface!Hyunjin, Mask kink (obviously oops), Hyunjin w/ his big 'ol hands, choking, grabbing/pushing, manhandling, rough sex.

October 16th : "So Bitter, So Sweet." - Hate Fucking - Han Jisung was usually so kind, so polite, so sweet. But you'd irked him multiple times around campus and he gave you bad vibes, which you'd spat in his face before. So he decides that at the Halloween party, he'll show you just how mean he can be.

Contains : MeanDom!Jisung, Switch!Reader, Fighting for dominance, biting/scratching, yelling, face/pussy/ass slapping/spanking, name calling, Jisung being a brat.

October 18th : "Maybe Our Last." - Tentacles - Felix Felix had dabbled in Hentai before - watched some of the more... unique stuff just to see what it was all about. And liked it. Not that he would ever admit it - So he's already flustered when you show up to the party dressed as a hot anime girl he's seen before; But the night takes a turn when an outbreak happens and it's something he could never be prepared for.

Contains : This is some fucked up world bending shit - Dabbles in dub-con!!!, Tentacle monster(s), mutation outbreak, one of the other members mutates and becomes a sick creature, no direct sex between Felix and the reader - just them both getting smothered in slick and touched/penetrated/etc. I've never written anything this wild.

DISCONTINUED

October 23rd : "Enough of That." - Bound/Tied - Seungmin He'd brought up the idea of you being his 'bunny' and him being the 'magician' for your costume multiple times. What he hadn't mentioned was the way he would tie your arms behind your back and have you sit in his lap the entire night. But he needed to keep his bunny attached to him somehow, right? His costume was incomplete without you.

Contains : Protective!Seungmin, MeanDom!Seungmin, BestFriend!Seungmin, BunnyCostume!Reader, Shibari, manhandling, rough?sex.

DISCONTINUED

October 25th : "Run And Hide." - Predator/Prey - I.N Jeongin wasn't opposed to taking what he wanted, when he wanted it. He was the youngest of his friend group - He always got what he wanted. And that included you. (Even if you were his Hyung's newly fresh ex.)

Contains : Still up for debate - Dabbles in dub-con, Greedy/Selfish!Jeongin, MeanDom!Jeongin, rough sex.

DISCONTINUED

October 29th : "Try Something New." - Aphrodisiacs - Seungmin / Lee Know After drunkenly admitting a week prior that you'd had a fantasy once including a certain pill/powder that would heighten your senses and wants, Seungmin takes it upon himself to confront you directly and ask if you wanted it to become real. During the party the following night, he slips a powder into your cocktail while whispering sweet nothings in your ear; And Minho stood close by to monitor the situation. He was just watching - at first.

Contains : For more context the reader mentions having a fantasy about taking an aphrodisiac and Seungmin asks if he can make it come true, so he plans with Minho to slip something in her drink. She DOES know about it. Dom!Seungmin, Dom!Minho, Exhibitionism/Voyeurism,

DISCONTINUED

October 31st : "You are Mine." - Incubi - OT8 Chris had invited you to the Halloween party with sparkling eyes and a shy smile, telling you how it would be loads of fun and there would be drinks, food, and pretty people. But when you walked in the night of the party, his gaze was far different than it had been the moment you previously talked. And seven of his friends - all gorgeous and in daringly-revealing costumes - seemed to eye you up the exact same way.

Contains : Gangbang (obviously), OT8 x Reader, Dom!OT8, Monsterfucking, Incubus!OT8, Chris deceiving the reader, MeanDom!Vocalracha, MeanDom!Lee Know, MeanDom!Hyunjin, Protective!Bangchan, Possessive!Changbin, Protective!Felix, Spanking, Grinding, Slapping, Dry Humping, Double Penetration, Spitroasting, Multiple orgasms, Edging, Rough sex.

DISCONTINUED

Dividers are made by : @anitalenia & @frenchkisstheabyss

[ivyues]

Room 143 ⋅ Lee Know

Behind closed hotel doors, the word's quiter and time slows.

Minho wasn’t usually one to be obvious, but the pattern was becoming hard to ignore.

Once, maybe twice a week depending on how hectic his schedules were, he’d slip away. No big announcement, no drawn-out goodbyes. Just a hoodie, his mask and dressed casually but a little more put-together than a simple errand required.

At first, his members didn’t question it. Minho liked his space – always has. But they weren’t stupid. They knew about you. He didn’t keep that a secret. But where he disappeared to when the clock struck ten? That part was left vague.

He did it for you both. The dorms were cramped. There was always someone around, and even if the guys wouldn’t have minded him bringing you over sometimes, Minho valued privacy. Real privacy. The kind that couldn't be interrupted by footsteps outside the door or someone yelling down the hall.

So he booked hotel rooms.

Nothing flashy – modest places with warm lighting, clean sheets, and thick walls. Places that gave you both a few stolen hours where the rest of the world didn’t matter. 

He even used a different name.

It wasn’t that he was ashamed. Far from it. He just didn’t want to share you – not with the world, not even with the boys, not in that way. Not yet.

But the hotel stays? Those were his.

The first time he did it, he was nervous – more than he let on. His hand had hovered over the keycard before sliding it into the door.

“It’s not too much, right?” he’d asked, voice almost sheepish. “I just… wanted it to be us. Not the dorm. Not a parking lot. Just us.”

You’d kissed him before answering. That was enough.

Room 172. Room 325. Room 143. It didn’t matter. The numbers changed. The pattern didn’t.

He’d walk in, close the door behind him, and everything else melted away.  He’d find you already waiting, curled up in the soft light, and the tension in his shoulders would melt.

There, he didn’t have to hold back. He could touch you like he wanted to. Kiss you until you were breathless. Make you whisper his name in that tone only he got to hear.

“Been thinking about this all week,” he’d murmur against your skin, his hands already under your shirt, “Every time I’m in the practice room, I imagine you here.”

Time moved differently in those rooms. Hours passed in minutes, tangled up in sheets. Open-mouthed kisses. Soft gasps. Lingering fingertips. I love you’s that tasted like a promise. You made each other forget the world existed outside those four walls.

-----

Back at the dorm, the guys were catching on.

“Hyung’s vanishing again,” Hyunjin muttered, sipping his drink. “And don’t act like none of you are curious.”

“Where does he even go? It’s not the gym. He’s not rehearsing. He’s not with us. He’s definitely not alone,” Seungmin added, eyes narrowed.

Felix leaned back, grinning. “You think it’s his girlfriend?”

A beat passed.

“Duh,” Han said. “But where’s he taking her?”

Changbin smirked. “Somewhere soundproof, obviously.”

They all cracked up, but none of them pried. Not seriously. Because even if they didn’t know the hotel name, or the room number, they knew enough.

And Minho? He didn’t confirm a thing. 

He just came back every time with a calm he couldn’t fake, and a faint perfume scent clinging to him that definitely wasn’t his.

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