#my take on the felix abuse | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skzdarlings · 8 months ago

Text

everything ; skz ; werewolf!felix x reader

requested by @yongbbokkie: if possible, can I have Sunshine!Felix with the prompt/s: ❛ i'm waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you. ❜ and ❛ do whatever you want with me, i'm yours. ❜

((maybe it's a pining from afar situation and something puts them in close quarters and Felix just can't help himself anymore))

read on ao3

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: werewolf!au. friends2lovers. miscommunication and misunderstandings followed by resolution and smut. mentions of reader being in a past abusive relationship though the circumstances are not detailed. not omegaverse just werewolves but mentions of rut cycles and slightly different physiology.

this is, um, the wettest thing i've ever written. there is no other word for it. so much come, masturbating (reader walks in on felix), pervy masturbating using reader's stuff lol, massive breeding kink, multiple rounds, scenting, possessiveness, throat-grabbing, biting, pussy eating, squirting, dirty talk. did i mention come.

word count: 15800 words. (hope it makes up for the delay hehe)

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy <3

For a few moments, Felix is yours. There is no awkwardness, no reluctance, just dancing, just friendship.

The club is packed so tightly, the lights and music as roaring as lightning and thunder. The extra stimulation overwhelms the senses, even werewolf senses. He doesn’t think and neither do you. You just dance, finding each other in the bouncing circle of your half-drunk friend group. He smiles and you take his hand, letting him pull you across the dance floor and into his arms.

You’ve missed this smile. You’ve missed these arms.

Sure, Felix is still your best friend and he is never truly far. The distance is not literal, just emotional, and that is so much worse.

Ever since his werewolf genes kicked in, ever since a pack took him in, things have just been… different.

Right now, you can pretend nothing has changed. You are far away from ivory moons waning over woodlands, of werewolf packs and supernatural powers. His senses are diluted here, overpowered by so many moving bodies and so much wild noise.

Felix smiles, that wonderful big smile that crinkles his eyes so sweetly. Lights flash over him, his blonde hair nearly glowing, his freckles like stars. He’s your best friend again. All yours for a few precious moments.

He’s bigger than he was, you think, with a bit of a flush, as you dance closer to him, his arms circling your body. Or maybe I just never noticed before.

Felix is not very tall, but he is not small either, lean and athletic and confident in every inch of his body. It feels like he is everywhere. Every time a strobe light flashes over him, he seems a little closer. You breathe in his cologne, subtler than it used to be because his sense of smell is so powerful now, but still recognizable.

You are definitely not a werewolf, but you are captivated by that smell. Something oak, woodsy, masculine but pretty. So very Felix. You want to bathe in that smell, luxuriate in him. You spent so many nights curled into his side, sharing his bed, wearing one of his hoodies, that you associate that scent with everything good, safe, and home.

His hands dance up your sides very softly, his breath puffing across your cheek as you dance and dance. One song pours into the next. You lose track of time. In forgetting the world, you forget yourself. You slide your arms around his shoulders and press close to him.

You used to hug him like this so easily, but you have hardly touched him at all the last few months. Felix could never be cruel to anyone so he has not outright rejected your usual closeness, but it is obvious that your touch now makes him uncomfortable. The last thing you ever, ever want to do is hurt Felix. So you have followed his lead. Every time he accidentally pulls a face – a displeased twitch of his nose, an upset furrow of his brow – you have backed away.

It’s just the werewolf senses, you keep telling yourself. He’s more sensitive now, that’s all.

He still hugs the others. The werewolf boys love rough-housing, in fact, tumbling all over each other constantly.

That’s different. Yes, very different than this, right here, right now, his hands sliding down your sides – slowly, like he is memorizing the shape of your waist. He squeezes your hips and it fills you with heat. His hot face touches yours, cheek to cheek. The music is pounding, a frantic sound, but you are slow dancing, keeping to the rhythm of your heartbeats where they beat against each other.

You slide a hand up the back of his neck, into his long blonde hair. You feel the shudder move through his whole body. It makes your legs feel weak, realizing the effect you have on him. It seems impossible, especially with how much he has pushed you away, but there is no way he is shivering for any other reason. He cannot possibly be cold. The club is packed and, besides, he is not human. He runs hot.

So hot. He radiates it, burning where your bodies press together. Felix has always been the sunshine that keeps you warm, but this is a different heat. You know better than to succumb to it, knowing this moment will pass, but right now it is so easy to cling to him, to breathe him in, to feel like the world is just you and him.

The real world soon returns. It’s getting late so your friends call it a night.

“We’ll drop you off, yeah?” Chan says to you. Felix lives with him and the other wolves now. They all have their own apartments but they live in the same high-rise. You live a few blocks down, close, but not quite belonging.

“I don’t mind walking,” you say.

You do not want to intrude and you do not want to make Felix uncomfortable. He doesn’t even know Chan is offering you a ride because he standing so far away.

Felix is looking at his phone, slouched against the car while everyone organizes themselves. He is wearing a leather jacket, a white shirt, blue jeans, his long hair falling into his face. You want to brush it back, feel it between your fingers. You want to lift his face and see his smile.

But he doesn’t look at you. Now that you are outside, now that the heat has dissipated and the cold breeze carries your bland, dull, human scent, now that he can remember you are not special and not like him – now, he is someone else, and you are too, and it is cold and dreary and miserable.

“What?” Chan says. He is such a good pack leader and a good friend, but it makes him utterly oblivious to little dramas like this. “You’re not walking by yourself this late at night, don’t be crazy. Come on.”

The pack leader does not take no for an answer. Even though you are not in the pack, being human, there is no refusing Bang Chan. He grabs you by the wrist and drags you to his car.

Jeongin is in the front seat. Seungmin takes a back corner before Felix can lift his head, before he even knows you will be in the car too.

Felix looks tense when realizes he is trapped with you. Whether he takes the middle seat or the other corner, you will be beside him. If standing together outside is so intolerable, then being in a car is going to be torturous.

“I can walk,” you say to him.

“What?” He shakes his head. When he smiles, it is not his usual smile, not something real. You know the difference. His proper smile brightens you but this smile makes your heart sink. “Of course not,” he says. “C’mon. It’s late. Let’s get home, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, but he is already gone, taking all sense of home with him.

You take the middle seat. Felix rolls his window down and leans towards it. His eyes are closed the entire journey, the wind blowing across his tired face.

Seungmin is also a werewolf but he does not seem bothered by your human scent. Jeongin and Chan, the other packmates, likewise seem indifferent, chatting about everything and nothing, totally unperturbed. And you must cross paths with many werewolves during the day, but no one ever seems bothered by you.

Felix is the only werewolf who seems to have a problem with your scent. You do not know what it is that affects him so deeply. You have tried changing soaps and shampoos but nothing seems to help. It must be something natural to your human body. Humans do not smell like werewolves in general. Werewolves release pheromones that humans cannot smell, and it is important in forging interpersonal dynamics. That includes romance. Werewolves mate for life. You know they find their true mates through smell as much as the other senses. They are biologically wired to pursue their perfect match based on all those senses.

You are not a werewolf. You can never be his true mate. In the few months since he fully and rapidly developed his werewolf senses, Felix has withdrawn from you even though he promised it would never separate you.

You used to talk about what would happen if his werewolf genes activated. He comes from a family of werewolves but the gene lays dormant in certain carriers. Most werewolves develop in puberty if they develop at all. Some people never develop their wolven senses or powers. A minority, like Felix, are triggered by something in adulthood and succumb all at once.

It was always a possibility, however minute, but he promised things would stay the same. He said you were his person, that best friend did not even suffice as a word to describe your love.

You’re my world, you know, he said one night, speaking with the sort of earnest sincerity that only Felix could, his deep voice rumbling in your ear as you cuddled into him.

You wanted to say it back but you were hurting at the time. You ended a bad relationship a year earlier. It took your tender heart far too long to realize how badly your ex-boyfriend was treating you. When Felix found out the details, he was furious, though he kept it down around you. You had never seen your best friend so emotional. He became even more protective in the aftermath.

He showed you, time and time again, what real love is supposed to be. It doesn’t rush or demand, it doesn’t manipulate or coerce, and it doesn’t ask you to be small. He would hold you all night if that’s what you needed. He would make you laugh and let you cry.

You slowly realized true love had been in front of you, all this time, begging to be seen.

At least, you thought so. After such a bad relationship, you were taking it slow, and Felix never rushed you. You thought, maybe, one day…

But just when you were ready, everything changed. The werewolf gene unexpectedly activated. Felix was admitted to a wolven hospital and underwent his first transformation under a full moon. When he came home, he was different. Sure, he was still Felix, with his long dyed hair and his many freckles and his sun-kissed skin, but his brown eyes were so very different when he looked at you.

If he looked at you, which he avoids these days.

“Home sweet home,” Chan says, parking the car outside your apartment building.

Felix wastes no time getting out of the vehicle, practically spilling onto the sidewalk in his haste. He holds the door for you but averts his gaze.

You thank Chan, say good night to the other boys, then you shuffle across the seat and step out of the car. Felix still does not look at you, pretending he is distracted with something across the street.

You are a little tipsy, your emotions easily riled. You want to say good night so it will finally prompt him to look at you, but you are suddenly very choked up. Thoughtlessly, you touch his arm instead.

He flinches. It feels worse than a slap.

You do not look at him again, hurrying to the building before he can see the tears in your eyes.

Miraculously, you hold them in until you reach your apartment. You are one foot in the doorway when the tears spill, all the emotions you’ve suppressed over the last few months finally flooding free. The door falls closed with a slam and the whole world collapses under you.

You drop right there, knees pulled up to your chest and face buried in your hands.

You spent so many nights like this, crying all alone until you worked up the courage to tell Felix about your bad relationship. He was immediately understanding. It was so foolish to fear he would ever judge you. He put an arm around you and held you all night.

He is the person you want to call when you are hurting. It is agonizing to be without him. He is the one person you need and the one person you cannot call right now.

You let yourself feel sorry and miserable. When the tears have subsided and you are slouched against your door, empty and tired, you make a decision to end this. You have spent too much of your life collapsed on the floor and crying on your lonesome. You refuse to do it again.

As horrible as it is, you need to distance yourself from Felix. This slow deterioration of your relationship is excruciating. If he decides to reach out, you will be there, but you simply cannot continue to compromise yourself.

You somehow manage to wash up and get in bed. You sleep through the morning and rise late, delaying the inevitable a little longer by scrolling on your phone. Felix used to be the first text of the day but there is nothing from him. You would usually message anyway but today you put your phone aside and get out of bed.

So much of Felix is in your apartment. Borrowed hoodies, games, books, and so much more. Items are littered everywhere from the bedroom to the bathroom to the kitchen and back. It takes an hour and you are not sure you find everything because he is so inextricably woven into your living space. You do not even see it anymore because it – because he – is always there.

You fill a cardboard box. Your plan is to walk the couple blocks to the high-rise and return it with a vague explanation. You are not sure what to say. Perhaps it is best to opt for brevity. After all, this is not a break-up because you are not a couple.

No, you think, staring at the full box with watery eyes, this is worse.

You make it a few steps out your door before you drop the box. It is way, way too heavy for you to carry two feet, never mind two city blocks. Already panting with exertion, you stare at the box taking up a huge slab of the narrow corridor.

You really don’t want to ask him to come get it, nor do you want to make multiple trips. You are scared that if you give him the opportunity, he will try and reassure you that nothing is wrong and you don’t need to do this. You’ll believe him in the moment, but then it will start all over again.

Like ripping off a bandage, it has to go all at once. It’s time to heal.

You push the box, budging it down the corridor inch by slow inch. You reach the elevator and press the call button. You calculate the logistics of pushing and shoving the box for two blocks, mostly concerned the cardboard will rip if it snags on something outside.

Lost in thought, you don’t see a person in the elevator and accidentally shove the box at him. He yelps, a loud cry of surprise as he jumps aside. It makes you leap out of your skin, shooting upright to look at him.

Some of your despondency leaves at the friendly face of your neighbour.

“Changbin!” you say. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even see you there.”

“Hey now,” he says, winking, his handsome face plastered with a grin, “I’m not that short.”

“No, of course not,” you say, laughing along with him.

Changbin is a werewolf as well. There are a lot of packs on this side of town because the large national park is nearby. The wolves like to use the expansive forest when the full moon cycle swings around.

“Moving out?” he asks with an eyebrow quirk.

“Ah,” you say. “Not quite.”

You explain your predicament, that the box belongs to a friend and you need to somehow reach his apartment building two blocks away. Changbin, ever the charmer and ever the helper, immediately offers his aid.

“Oh, you don’t have to—” you start, but he has already swung the big box into his arms.

Werewolves do have supernatural strength. Changbin looks strong, with big biceps and a stocky frame, never mind the supernatural enhancement. He doesn’t even break a sweat. The box might as well be empty for all the difference it makes to him.

He is kind enough to walk two blocks to the high-rise. You chat on the way and find the conversation flows easily. You also can’t help but notice he has no problem with your scent. It really is just Felix who seems so repulsed.

You ring the buzzer for Felix’s apartment but there is no answer. You try a couple more times, embarrassed because Changbin is waiting. Fortunately, he is very non-plussed, humming to himself while you ring the buzzer.

After a few tries, you ring Chan instead. He answers promptly and you explain the bare bones of the situation, that you have a box for Felix and you would appreciate if he could pass it along. Chan agrees, of course.

Maybe it is for the best. You can leave the box with Chan and not even have to confront Felix at all.

Chan buzzes you into the building. Changbin walks you to the elevator where he puts the box down. You thank him profusely but he waves it off and states he was happy to help.

It looks like he wants to say something more, looking at you while he rubs the back of his neck. In the end, he says he will see you around and departs.

You exhale. The worst of your nerves have dissipated since Felix is not even home. You have been the one instigating your interactions the last few months so you figure if you just quietly step back, he won’t even notice.

It pains you to admit it, that you could disappear from his life and he would just… not care. You stuff those feelings down, down, down for now. You prepare a friendly smile for Chan so he doesn’t ask too many questions.

When you reach the pack floor, you give the box a good shove into the corridor. Chan lives directly across from the elevator so you don’t have far to go.

Except there are voices in the corridor. You turn towards the sound.

An awful chill freezes in your blood, your whole body going rigid at what you see.

Felix is home. He is standing in his open doorway, half-dressed in a pair of jeans and nothing more. His long hair looks more dishevelled than usual, like someone has been running their fingers through it.

Someone. He is talking to a young woman. You don’t know her too well, simply that she is the only female werewolf in Chan’s small pack. She is wearing more clothes than Felix but still very casual in shorts and a t-shirt, barefoot like this is her home. You suppose it is, much more her home than yours.

She belongs. You do not.

Her and Felix are standing close while they converse. So close. They speak to each other in hushed tones, her expression tender and sympathetic while Felix winces in seeming pain. The details of their conversation are inarticulate at a distance but their voices are nonetheless audible.

Your scent reaches Felix first. He straightens so fast it would be comical under any other circumstances.

Nothing is funny right now. You feel like a complete and utter fool, standing in his corridor with a box of his things like he cares about them at all. He has already moved on. You were in denial, a stupid little human girl still clinging desperately to old memories.

“I better go,” the woman says. She leans up and kisses Felix on the cheek, gives him a little wink and mumbles something only he can hear. She turns and walks into the apartment next door, giving you a genuinely friendly wave. She has always been polite to you and you have no reason to dislike her. You can only wave back pathetically.

Your hand slaps your side when she disappears into her apartment. You and Felix look at each other.

He looks guilty. Sweat dots his hairline, streaks his bare chest, and his face is flushed. It is very obvious what he has been doing all morning.

The thought of such a fantasy was once tantalizing. The sight of him, like this, would make you dizzy. You remember the last time he casually took off his shirt, the swoop of desire that moved inside you, a sensation you did not even know you could still feel after your bad relationship.

Now that swoop is just nausea. There is no pleasure in it at all.

You are completely mortified.

“Hey,” Felix says. His deep voice breaks on a high-pitched twinge. He clears his throat. “Um,” he says. He runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it even more. He can’t seem to bring himself to meet your gaze, eyes darting all over the corridor but never you.

You curl your fingers, nails pressing hard into your palm.

“Look,” he says, clearing his throat again. “We need to talk about—”

You don’t want to hear it. You can’t hear it. You are hurt and embarrassed and devastated. Why couldn’t he just tell you he wanted to pursue a werewolf? It makes sense, biologically, and you can hardly fault him for the desire. Honesty would have hurt but not like this. Now you have to suffer the rejection of the only man you ever truly loved and suffer the fact you were not even worth a conversation.

It is too late to talk.

“It’s fine, Felix,” you say. All your messy, menial scripts crumble in your mind. Emotion takes over, bitterness and pain and irritation. “I brought you your things,” you say, pointing to the box. His eyes dart there for the first time, brow furrowing. “If I find anymore, I’ll give them to Chan. He’ll pass them along.”

“Um, what?” He looks from the box to you.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you say, blinking back tears. Your feelings come out in fragments, word after word with little coherency. “After everything I went through last year – I just – this is too much. The werewolf thing – I just – I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t have you in my life like this. Thank you for your friendship. The memories will always be important to me. But it’s for the best we don’t see each other again.”

You had not planned on so much finality, but that was before. Now you need to leave. If you stay here another second, you are going to fall apart.

“Good luck with everything,” you say.

You turn to leave but he says your name. You suck in a breath, wait a beat, and slowly turn back around.

Felix walks partway down the hallway, his whole face screwed up with pain and confusion. His mouth is moving but no words are coming out. Finally he closes his eyes and shakes his head, slamming a hand into his hair.

“Hold on,” he says. “Hold on, I – what are you talking about? You – you don’t want to be friends? How can – You can’t—” That deep voice breaks again, fracturing with emotion.

A part of you knows that you are being too harsh, letting your own emotions dominate your words. Another part of you is too heartbroken to care.

“It’s for the best,” you say weakly, your voice barely more than a breath of a sound. “Really.”

“For the best?” he asks, voice pitching up again. He has not looked at you so intensely for so long. “How can you say that to me?”

Much to your horror, he starts crying first. His tears seem to catch him by surprise too, his expression puckering as he tries to stop it. A hand flies up, covering his eyes. He shakes his head rapidly.

“Felix,” you whisper.

“For the best?” he repeats. He drops his hand and takes a shuddering breath.

You avert your gaze. You can’t stand to look at his eyes so full of tears, his face so strained with hurt.

“Did something happen?” he asks, taking a few more steps towards you. “Was it – was it me? You said – the werewolf thing – Did I do something? Please, please tell me.”

He doesn’t even realize how much he has withdrawn from you. He is bad at controlling his face, as evidenced now, so he probably has no idea how blatant his repulsion has been. Maybe he thought he was being subtle. Maybe he thought you wouldn’t care, that you were just his friend and you would be content to relegate yourself to the sidelines of his life. Maybe that is all your fault after all.

If you were a better friend, you would have coped with his new feelings. You would have been happy for him. If you were a better friend, maybe he would have told you sooner.

“You deserve a better friend than me,” you say.

He looks at you like you are completely crazy, his head tilted, his eyes narrowing.

“What?” he asks. “Where is this coming from? Please, I don’t understand. You can’t be saying what I think you’re saying.”

“I already told you,” you say, as calmly as you can. “I just can’t do this anymore. Our lives are heading in different directions and I – I – I just need to go. I want to go. Please.”

You have known Felix all your life. You were children together, hapless youths on a playground that immediately loved each other with the easy, thoughtless affection of childhood.

He reminds you of that child now, innocently standing in the corridor with his arms hanging limp at his sides and so much bewilderment on his freckled face.

“You want to go?” he repeats, voice low, soft.

You nod. After a second, he nods back, bottom lip still quivering. A fresh stream of tears spill over his eyes. He hiccups on a sob, turning away and covering his face.

“Fine,” he says, speaking between shaky breaths. “Go. I can’t – I can’t keep you here if you want to go.”

“Thank you,” you say softly. The elevator is still waiting when you press the call button. You step onto it and say, “Good bye, Felix.”

As the doors close, you hear another choking sob. You name is lost in the sound.

The door closes.

The regret is instantaneous. You stare at your phone for hours and even debate returning to his apartment, but in the end you do nothing.

You replay every moment, from seeing him with the other werewolf to his confusion and your departure. It was a long, long walk home, tears streaming down your face as your mind went back even further, remembering every moment of your friendship.

How could this have happened? You and Felix have always been open with each other. He was the first person you confided in about your bad relationship and he immediately did everything to save you from it. But when it was the other way around, when the werewolf gene activated, he turned away from your friendship. You poured your heart out to him, trusting he would catch it and keep it safe, but he did not feel the same way.

Secrets, confusion, heartbreak. It plays on a loop in your mind.

It is the middle of the night when you get a text. He has not messaged in a while, not in a substantial way. If you scroll back on your phone, you can see the disintegration of communication, the days when he would send message after message with any and every thought slowly petering down to brief replies and a vague acknowledgement at the very best.

This message is more. You can hear his voice when you read it, can picture those dark eyes.

Tell me this isn’t real. Please.

You feel sick. You are angry at him for being the one to withdraw only to suddenly turn on his heel. You are angry at yourself for reacting so drastically and immaturely. Mostly, you are just sad.

If I did something, I’m sorry, he writes. I’ll never stop being sorry. I’ll fix it. I’ll keep my distance. Just don’t say I can never see you again.

You type a reply, then delete it, then repeat.

You say nothing. Every time you try, you see him and her in that corridor, you see him flinching from your touch, you see him recoiling at your scent. It twists and tangles with memories of warm nights and tender smiles. You wipe your tears and remember when he did it for you, his thumb so gently sweeping your cheek. He used to touch you like you were precious to him. Now he flinches from your touch.

He does not text the next day, or the day after, or the day after that. You are not sure if it is better or worse.

After about a week, he messages again, stating, I miss you.

You are at your work desk but he immediately seizes your full attention, as he always has.

You stare at your phone. You take a breath. You have had a few days to decompress, to let the wound bleed. It is still sore to the touch.

You write, I miss you too.

You do not check your phone for a while, listening to the relentless buzz as he sends eager message after eager message. It feels like the old days for a minute, but slows to a stop when you do not reply. You read them back later, his pleading, his sweetness. It makes you spiral, on the one hand wanting to take it all back, but on the other hand picturing his flinch, his disgust, knowing it is only a matter of time before your heart breaks again.

You do not reply. He takes the hint and gives you a few more days, then he messages, I still have your stuff in my place too, you know?

I know, is all you say. I have more of your stuff too.

As predicted, you have been finding his things all over the apartment. Even things which are technically yours are still stamped with his memory. He helped you move into this place after the break-up. He took you shopping and paid for so many things to get you back on your feet. Everything from blankets to cushions to plates make you think of him. This was just a room before he made it a home. Without him, it is just a room again.

There are a couple days of silence, then some of his packmates start messaging you. You don’t think he is sending them after you, as Felix would never manipulate or coerce you like that. They reach out of their own volition, curious because they have not seen you in a while. But it is all so overwhelming, so you throw your phone under a pillow and go for a walk.

That is when you run into Changbin again. His smile is charming as ever when he strikes up a friendly conversation.

“I was wondering,” he says, scratching the back of his neck, not-so-inadvertently flexing his big bicep when he does, “I was going to ask a couple weeks ago, when I helped you with that box – ah, I was kicking myself after because I didn’t see you for a while. But – I thought we had a nice conversation. Maybe you and me could do something.”

“Do something,” you repeat. It sounds like he is asking you out which is a little perplexing, because he is a werewolf and you are a human. Surely nothing serious can come of it. You used to think it was possible, as there are plenty of movies and romance novels to prove it, but your personal experience has led you to other conclusions.

“A date,” he clarifies, grinning that handsome smile. “You and me. My treat. No pressure. I just think you’re clever and, ah, very beautiful, and I want to know you better.”

A polite rejection is on the tip of your tongue. You are not in any emotional state to try dating someone right now. But you think of Felix and that woman in the corridor, and you think of your phone buzzing, and you think of another long, lonely night stewing in it all.

Changbin must be looking for something casual anyway. A werewolf would not truly settle down with a human. Maybe this is a good opportunity to put yourself out there.

“Sure,” you say. “I’d like that.”

Changbin takes you out a few days later. You actually do enjoy yourself. He is very charming and it is easy to talk to him, plus the date itself is very fun. He takes you out for food then to an arcade, flopping at every game in a hilarious spectacle.

“I’m a werewolf,” he complains later. “I’m strong! Those games were rigged.”

You giggle, wrapping yourself up in the jacket he leant you. You are walking back to the apartment building, the warm evening giving way to a cool night as you make the trek. It is enjoyable until you reach the building, at which point you start to panic. Does he expect to be invited into your apartment? Does he expect… more? The thought leaves you dizzy and not in a good way. Changbin is so very handsome and so very likable. Going out with him showed you that you can enjoy yourself without the crutch of a lifelong friendship.

You don’t need Felix.

But you still want him.

You try to go back and find the moment it all went wrong, try to picture a different ending, but it feels impossible. A foolish fantasy from a girl still clinging to the dying dredges of hope and affection. There is a wonderful, handsome man at your side, a werewolf at that, and your mind is somewhere else.

Changbin remarks on it, politely but nonetheless curiously. He gives you a penetrating look, like he knows something is wrong and there is no use lying.

You sigh.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I just… I recently broke-up with a friend.”

“With a friend?” he asks, eyebrows jumping with surprise. “What kind of friend?”

“A close one, very close,” you say. “We’ve known each other forever, you see. He’s the most wonderful person I have ever known. He’s good to everyone, open-hearted, kind, warm. I have truly never known a better man. He just makes every room a little brighter when he’s in it. You would like him, I think. Everyone does. He’s a werewolf but the transformation only happened for the first time this year. Since then…” You sniffle. “Things have been different. Werewolves are biologically wired to be with other werewolves and form packs… I think my human status just started affecting him negatively.”

“Biology,” Changbin says like it is a foreign word. He looks at you with a cocked eyebrow. “It exists, yeah, but werewolves still have hearts, you know? It’s nice finding other werewolves so you aren’t alone, but it isn’t necessary. Love is complicated.”

That does give you pause for a moment. A logical part of you knows it is true, that plenty of werewolves make relationships work with humans, but that is almost harder to accept. If it’s just biological, then it cannot be helped. But if it’s a choice—

“So he isn’t biologically wired to hate me now that he’s a werewolf,” you say miserably. “It’s just something he chose to do.”

“Now, I didn’t say that,” Changbin says. “But, if that is what happened, he’s an idiot. If you were that obviously in love with me, ah, I wouldn’t let you go that easy.”

“I’m not in love with him…” The lie tumbles without an ounce of confidence. Changbin just gives you an amused look. Embarrassed, you drop your gaze. “It doesn’t matter,” you say. “He doesn’t feel the same way. Believe me, I know how he’s been looking at me, or how he won’t. That’s why I walked away. I was holding onto a friendship that once was and a fantasy that will never be. It’s time to be reasonable.”

“Ah, I don’t think love is very reasonable,” he says. “But you should stay true to yourself and do what’s right. And, in the mean time, if you need a friend…”

You exchange smiles. A weight lifts off your shoulder as Changbin changes the subject to friendship between you.

“I would like a friend,” you say. “Thank you, Changbin.”

“Ah, it’s been fun. But give me back my jacket,” he teases. “Since we’re friends I don’t need to impress you. I’m cold.”

“I thought werewolves run hot,” you say, laughing. You shrug off the coat and hand it to him.

“Eh, a little bit, maybe more than humans. But the blood really only gets hot during a rut cycle,” he says.

It is a casual statement. He is too preoccupied with zipping up his jacket to notice you get a little flustered.

You know a bit about ruts, namely that werewolves have a cycle which span a few days every month. It’s a fertility and reproduction thing, pushing developed werewolves to find mates and, well, mate them. It is a common part of the werewolf lifestyle so it is fair for Changbin to so casually mention it.

It is not because of Changbin that you feel flustered. You are thinking about Felix that night at the club, how burning hot he was compared to everyone else. Now that you think of it, not even Chan felt so hot when he grabbed your wrist, nor Seungmin beside you in the car. Felix, though, was radiating heat. Was he starting a rut cycle? Perhaps that explains why he was so hot and sweaty the next day during your confrontation.

You remember the other werewolf in the corridor. Your heart sinks again. Was she helping him through his rut? Then again, she left the second you arrived. Why were they even in the hallway? If she was spending his rut with him, surely they would have been inside together, not yapping in the hallway...

“You look worried,” Changbin says.

You are gnawing your bottom lip, eyes darting around as you contemplate that day. At his words, you blink to attention, doing your best to shake the anxiety.

“It’s nothing,” you say. “I’m just confused about so many things right now.”

“You know, if this guy really is so great and wonderful – and I think he is, if someone like you loves him so much – then he will probably be happy to answer your questions so you don’t feel so confused.”

“Ugh.” You slap a hand over your eyes and shake your head. “Why do you have to be so decent and mentally competent and right?”

“Jutdae,” he says, then flexes an arm and squeezes a bicep through the jacket. “And lots of protein.”

You laugh again. With a few more words of thanks and a promise to catch up again soon, you give him one final good night hug. He says he might meet up with some friends so you part ways, Changbin strolling while you head inside.

You look at your phone, considering his words as you ride the elevator to your floor. Changbin is right. Giving Felix the silent treatment is not helping you or him. Even though the conversation will probably be uncomfortable in so many ways, you should talk to him. It might not repair anything, but at least you will have closure. That wound cannot heal so long as it is still bleeding and festering.

You are drafting a text message in your head when you step off the elevator.

Then you lift your eyes and stumble to a stop.

Felix is sitting outside your apartment door. He is wearing jeans and a blue flannel, a denim jacket on top of that. A habitual joke is on the tip of your tongue, seeing him so decked out in his favourite colour. It disappears at the morose look on his face.

His long blonde hair is down around his shoulders, neglected black roots peeking at the crown of his head. He looks a little wan and very tired, his head lolled to the side.

He scents you before he sees you, eyes fluttering closed for a second, then he looks at you.

He really looks at you.

Felix always has such a softness in his gaze, but this look is searing. It moves through you, a forceful heat twining its way around your insides. It holds you in captivated thrall as he stands, one black boot thumping against the ground with the force of his push as he straightens himself out.

That piercing looks crinkles as more of your scent registers to him. His face twists with revulsion, except it is even more severe than usual. It is so disturbed that it makes you think his past expressions were not disgust at all, because this face is so terrorized by whatever he smells.

“Where were you?” he asks.

You have been staring at each other in silence for so long that his voice reverberates loudly in the corridor. It makes you jump as the smoothness of his deep voice pours into you. It’s only been a few weeks since you last heard him speak, but somehow you forgot how profoundly that voice could affect you, especially when he drops it so deliberately.

“Out,” you say. You are so flustered that your body goes into defense mode, your tone sharp when you say, “I don’t need your permission for that.”

That softens the slash of his gaze. He shakes his head.

“No,” he says softly. “Of course not. I’m sorry.”

His apology is so sincere, eyes searching yours for something beyond the surface. You feel like he is speaking to you without words, somehow conveying a lifetime of love in the way he looks at you, saying, it’s me.

You soften too, in every way, your voice and your posture, your heart and everything inside you. So soft and malleable, all that heat expanding in every direction until you can imagine yourself radiating it like he did. It feels so inappropriate to be aroused when there is so much drama between you, when a serious conversation needs to be had. But he is looking at you so intensely, colours of emotions playing across his face. A shaking breath draws your gaze to his lips.

He says your name. It feels like a touch. You feel dizzy again, this time in a very good way, despite yourself.

You hear his sharp intake of breath as you step a little closer. Your scent is affecting him. It makes him do a double-take, looking at you up and down without any subtlety. It is blatant, searching. For lack of a better word, predatory, a wolf on the prowl, scenting something it wants, maybe needs. Your skirt is long, sweeping past your knees, but you feel like he can see past it somehow.

His eyes, low on your body, flick up to your face. Your knees knock. That hungry look twists into something repulsed again, his brow furrowing. It darkens his whole face.

Of course. He is disgusted with you and your boring human scent and he always has been. You cannot give into hopeful delusions.

“What are you doing here?” you ask in your most casual tone, striding up to him like you are unaffected by his presence.

He steps to the side, staring while you fumble around in your purse for your keys.

“I wanted to talk,” he says.

You stare into your bag, rifling through mint wrappers and lipsticks and bus tickets. You can feel his eyes, practically burning a hole in the side of your head. You want to be chill, want to laugh and tell him he’s acting weird, to knock it off. You want to be indifferent, remind him there is a distance between you now and his staring is not appropriate.

Then he puts a hand on the door, near your head. He moves around you, undeniably scenting you as he goes. His other hand comes around the other side, caging you between him and the door. Your back is to him but you can still feel his gaze, shivering when he breathes you in.

You swallow, cringing at the wave of arousal that moves through you when his nose brushes the back of your neck.

Werewolf instincts, you remind yourself, trying to find the resolve to snap him out of it, except that’s not what you want. You want him to press right against you and put his mouth on your neck, to taste everything he is scenting.

Until you remember he hates the scent. So much so, he makes a guttural noise that sounds like a growl, rumbling at the base of his throat.

You expect him to flinch and move away. You imagine him shaking his head as he abandons his efforts to reconcile because you’re just not worth it.

You are not expecting him to say, “Why do you smell like another werewolf?”

“What?” you say. “I – I don’t—”

“Yes, you do,” he says, taking another deep breath. “It’s all over you. Who is he?”

Oh, you have been wearing Changbin’s jacket for the last half-hour. You did not notice any smell but you are not a werewolf. To Felix, you must be utterly smothered in it. You wonder if it smells like a sex pheromone, given Changbin was taking you on a date, maybe permeating a desire your human senses did not notice.

Whatever it is, it has Felix riled in a way you have never seen before. He has been very careful to hold himself in check around you. The worst of his werewolf symptoms have been hidden from the start. It is part of why you are so hurt, that he would not trust you with it.

Now it overrides his good sense. His nose swipes the back of your neck again, his fingers curling against the door where his hands sit.

“He’s just a friend,” you say.

“A friend,” he repeats. “He doesn’t smell like a friend.”

“Well, he is,” you say. All your desire, heartbreak, and desperation swell inside you, bursting like a firework, hot and crackling. With a pounding heart, you turn around to face him, intent on confrontation when you snap, “Why would that even matter to you?”

You look into his eyes. He is so close, arms around you, that woodsy scent enveloping you. It feels like coming home, falling into his gaze, letting the heat wash over you as he stares back. There is something animalistic about his intensity, a predator with its hackles raised, sights set and hunger striking.

“Felix,” you whisper, voice heavy with a thousand questions that never manifest.

One hand leaves the door. He grabs the back of your neck, not roughly, not cruelly, but with an undoubted and irrevocable command. It makes another firework burst inside you. You gasp.

That gasp is interrupted when he dives in without any hesitation, his mouth thoroughly claiming yours in a hot, desperate kiss.

Whenever you dared to fantasize a kiss with Felix, it was always soft, a little brief, giving it time to grow. You never imagined so much heat overwhelming you all at once, that his mouth would be so ravishing. You didn’t even know a kiss could move through your whole body, that when he puts his tongue in your mouth it would feel like he is already fucking you, your body throbbing with want.

It is not just werewolf instinct because you react too. You drop your purse on the floor and put your hands on him, one on his chest and the other his neck, clinging to him like he clings to you. He takes it as invitation, his other hand leaving the door to hold your waist. His grip is powerful, but despite the supernatural strength it does not hurt. No, Felix would never hurt you. Oh, it was so stupid to think he ever would.

He makes a sound that has you whimpering in turn, the low grunt pressing at your most vulnerable places. The kiss is open-mouthed, hot and wet and messy.

He walks you back that final step, pressing you to the door. He cups the back of your head so you don’t hit it.

You grab the collar of his denim jacket and yank on it, pulling him even closer. You are completely delirious with him. Everything that has happened and everything that will happen is wholly unimportant as he slots his whole body along yours.

His leg pushes between your thighs, his hips pinning you to the door. The thought would have you terrified a year ago, but now it just feels right. Of course it feels right, because this is Felix, who has seen you at your most vulnerable and healed you, who has caught you every time you fall. He will always fix what hurts. He will always take care of you.

Your body knows it, begging for him, hips rearing towards him. It presses his thigh against the juncture between your legs, makes it so your flimsy skirt doesn’t matter at all. You are not thinking when you start to rock against him.

You forgot your body could feel so much pleasure.

“Oh, fuck—” he says, his already deep voice somehow even lower as he curses.

You squeak as he holds you against the door, deliberately rocking his thigh between yours with more pressure and speed than you could manage. It makes a torrent of mortifying sounds spill past your lips, but he gathers them all up lovingly, tastes them on his tongue as he chases down your gasping breath. Every little mewl, every breath, every squeaking hiccup is swallowed up by him.

“Come for me, please,” he whispers, roughly. It sounds like begging despite how much physical power he has over you. It would scare if it was someone else, but that supernatural strength doesn’t matter because it bends to you, waiting for your permission.

You just barely remember you are in the corridor. You hope no one chooses now to step out of their apartment. You wonder if the other werewolves on the floor can scent whatever pheromones Felix must be giving off.

It doesn’t matter. You’re hurtling towards an orgasm and you can’t stop it. You’re going to come on him, just like this, fully clothed but so wet that you can feel it gushing as he grinds his thigh against you.

You grab onto his belt, feeling the curve of his bulge just below your palm. It makes his breath stutter and it makes you surrender. Your body seizes and your pussy throbs as you come, a strangled cry in your throat while rocking desperately against him.

It settles slowly, the world coming back in increments. You are breathing hard, clinging to each other, bodies still pressed so tightly together. You can feel his heart beating hard and fast. It keeps rhythm with the lingering thrum below.

So much for conversation. Grinding all over Felix in a semi-public space was not in the plan at all.

“Oh my god,” you say, voice breaking as you are hit with realization. You push at him and he goes obediently.

“Fuck,” he says, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head. He runs his hands through his hair, shakes out the length of it while breathing erratically.

Your heart is still pounding. You put your hand over your chest like that will calm it down.

Felix looks at you.

You recognize this look.

This look – this is the face you have been mistaking for disgust. Now that you have seen him truly reviled, snarling at Changbin’s scent on your body, you realize it is not disgust, not at all. It’s pain, a wincing, cringing desperation as he fights to keep everything inside him.

It is barely contained right now, his chest still heaving, his fly still bulging, hands shaking at his sides as he stares at you with open need.

“Oh my god,” you say again. You lean against the door for support, closing your eyes to try and make sense of the world. You see the events of the last month play out, the months before that, going back further and further until you shake your head to clear your mind. “I just—” You open your eyes, meet his anxious gaze. “Just give me some time,” you say. “I – I need to think – I’m so—”

“It’s okay,” he says, hands out to placate you, but careful not to touch you. He forces himself to smile despite his own emotional tumult. Sweat breaks out on his hairline. “Take your time, I – I’m sorry, I didn’t come here to—I just wanted to talk—I—”

“I know,” you say. “I know.”

He nods sharply, clearing his throat as he turns awkwardly to the side. He points vaguely behind him, stutters something like, “I’ll go, um, I’ll just—”

He turns on his heel and walks away, taking the corner to the stairwell so fast that you blink and he is gone.

You can hear him bounding down the stairs. You stand there, listening until he is too far to hear.

With every limb shaking, you pick up your purse and finally fish out your keys. You manage to turn the key in the lock and step inside before you crumple to your knees.

This time your thoughts are a very different whirlwind, just as confused and just as emotional, but so conquered by sensation that you find yourself just sitting there, touching your lips, thinking of him.

There is a lot to think about.

You realize you have been wrong about so many things. You and Felix should have spoken a long time ago. You have both been skirting each other, tentatively regarding the other, worried you might hurt them. It resulted in you both getting hurt anyway.

You are so, so scared of making that hurt worse. It makes you hesitate.

A day goes by. Felix respects your space. On the second day, when you contemplate reaching out for a conversation – a real conversation – your phone buzzes.

You are surprised to see that it is Bang Chan.

Hey, he writes. I need to talk to you right now. It’s about Felix.

Your heart-rate shoots through the roof, terror obliterating every other emotion.

Is he okay? you write. What happened??

Look, I’m just gonna say it, Chan writes. Felix is in rut. You know what that is?

Yes, you say.

At first, you are relieved he is not hurt and it is something so mundane. Then you are flustered as you recall the other night. You remember the heat between you, the way you came on his body and the way he begged for it. Even now, you are more aroused than embarrassed, shivering as you remember the way he looked at you.

Right, Chan says. Look I promise I’m not asking you to sleep with him or something. I wouldn’t do that. You have no responsibility for anything. But you also gotta know that dumb kid is in love with you, right? Like… insane in love. Like… won’t let anyone else see him or help him even though he’s a new werewolf, hasn’t had that many ruts, and it hasn’t even been a whole month since the last one.

You watch as each text appears, your adrenaline building with every word. The phone shakes in your tight grip.

Didn’t someone help him with his last rut? You ask. I saw her at his apartment.

What??? Chan answers quickly. No. I sent her over to see if he needed anything, because he kept telling me to fuck off because I was telling him to call you. I’m telling him again but he still won’t listen. You know he thinks he’s a monster right?

You are still reeling from the revelation that he and the girl were not an item at all, that they were truly just having a conversation. He was flushed and sweaty because he was in rut, not because he spent all morning with her. You were the one racing to conclusions, not even giving him a chance to explain. You remember him stepping towards you, asking to speak, but you cut him off before he could. You assumed he just wanted to reject you.

Chan says Felix is in love you. Is it possible that after a conversation with another wolf, he was gathering the courage to tell you, only for you to say you never wanted to see him again?

Now you read the last message and your heart sinks, a painfully heavy weight in your gut.

A monster? you write. What do you mean?

That doesn’t even make sense. Felix is the kindest, most loving man you know. Assuming werewolves are monstrous is such a medieval thought that it never occurred to you for a second that he would feel that way.

Yeah, Chan says. Look, he never told me the details because he said it wasn’t his story to tell, but he told me that you went through something really hard and that was why he didn’t want to stress you out with the werewolf thing. It can be pretty intense, especially at the start, and especially when you’re already an adult. He spent his whole life thinking he was one thing only for everything to change really quickly. He was really scared of coming on too strong and losing you because of it.

You made his worst fears come true, you realize, numb as you stare at the screen.

You know Felix, Chan writes, He’d rather just suffer alone than have someone else feel it too. I told him to trust you more, that you would want to help, but there’s no getting through to him when he’s like that. I love the guy but he can be kinda stubborn.

You both have a stubborn streak. The last month of drama attests to that.

What do you want me to do? you ask. You have more answers but you feel just as lost as before, maybe even more.

Can you just talk to him please? Chan says. He holed himself up in his apartment and he won’t let anyone in. He stopped answering my messages too. Ruts are a Molotov cocktail of hormones. They’re intense even if you’re experienced and he isn’t. I just don’t want him to get hurt and not do anything about it because he doesn’t want to bother anyone.

You remember Felix in that corridor, arms hanging limp at his sides, looking at you with so much hurt and sorrow. Despite that, he didn’t pressure you to stay. He listened. He let you go because he thought you wanted that. He stood by himself in that corridor, crying over a box of his things that he thought had a home with you.

Tears blur your vision. You have to rub your eyes before answering Chan.

I’ll go to him, you write. I don’t want him hurt either.

I know you don’t, Chan says. You have a spare key to his place?

Yes.

Good, Chan says. He’s not answering his door so you’re gonna need it. Give the guy a smack for me, hey?

His joke makes you laugh, though it is strained. You give yourself a second to compose yourself then you are on your feet. You are in a loose house dress and tights, face bare and hair undone, but you do not waste another second. You know you can be yourself around Felix no matter what. You wish he understood the feeling was reciprocated.

This time, instead of running away, you run to him. This time, you will make him understand.

The two city blocks pass in a blur. You have never moved so fast in all your life, bumping into slow stragglers as you barrel down the street.

By the time you step off the elevator on his floor, you are warm and out of breath. You wipe a little perspiration off your forehead as you approach.

You were so frantic in your determination to arrive, there was no time for nerves to materialize. They strike all at once, twisting anxiously as you knock. You wait a minute but he doesn’t answer, just like Chan predicted.

You take a steadying breath and put the key in the lock. Hand over your heart, you push open the door and step into the apartment.

It does not look any different from the last time you were here. Even your slippers are still by the door. You disregard them now, stepping out of your shoes and venturing forward with a nervous little patter.

If you were a werewolf, maybe you would have scented a change in the air, but it smells and feels familiar. The apartment is very still, maybe a little warmer than usual, sunlight streaming through the windows.

You finally hear a sound. You leave the small foyer and make a very clumsy entrance into the room.

You can hardly blame yourself for stumbling. Felix is sitting on the couch in nothing but a pair of jeans. It looks like the same blue jeans from the other night. Yes, in fact, you are sure they are because you can see the faintest streak on his thigh. You were embarrassed to find you were so wet that it came through your panties and skirt. You wondered if it got on him.

You certainly have an answer now.

Felix is touching himself. He is slouched back on the couch, his bare chest damp with sweat, his knees spread apart. His jeans are pulled open and it looks roughly torn, the zipper snapped off the fly. His hand is wrapped around his cock. One of your t-shirts is clutched tightly in the other hand. He is holding it against his face, covering his eyes, mouth, and nose. He is clearly chasing the scent, knuckles whitening with how tightly he grips it.

His abdomen clenches as he approaches a climax. You watch as he quickly wraps the t-shirt around his cock, fucking the material. His eyes are closed, head thrown back.

You snap to the realization that he has no idea you’re here, so overwhelmed with your scent from the shirt.

You quickly cover your eyes with both hands and yelp his name.

His reply is a startled yelp as well. You peek at him through your fingers, watching as he frantically stuffs the t-shirt between the couch cushions. He tries to stand at the same time, fighting to close his pants over an uncooperative erection that does not seem to be going down.

“Fuck, sorry, I – hold on, fuck – I can explain—” he stammers.

“Um, me too,” you say.

He can’t get his pants closed but he gets himself tucked back inside. He keeps a grip on the fly with one hand, the other running through his long hair.

Then he is standing there, flushed and out of breath. You slowly lower your fingers from your face.

There is a moment of silence, both of you startled. After a bit of staring, he cracks a nervous smile. You tentatively return it.

His brow smooths out, his dimple poking into his cheek. He chuckles first, then you laugh, then you are laughing together. It feels good, letting out all the ridiculous tension.

“Why, uhh, why are you here?” he finally asks.

“Um, Chan texted,” you say.

“Oh, for the love of—” He cuts off his own tirade, shaking his head and exhaling heavily.

You twist your hands together, fingers budging in a nervous fidget.

“Um, he told me… he told me…” You forget your precise words because Felix meets your eyes, holding your gaze in his. You lose yourself in the depth of his dark eyes. You think your heart is beating loud enough to hear.

You look away, overwhelmed by the intensity of his stare. Your eyes stray to the couch, to your t-shirt poking out between the cushions. You are startled by a jolt between your legs, like a lightning bolt of arousal, the previous scene suddenly resonating with clarity.

“I—” You almost choke on your words, so much nervousness, so much fear, so much need in your voice. You meet his searching eyes, stepping forward as if compelled by them. “I thought my scent disgusted you.”

He blinks back at you, your words taking a moment to settle. Then he furrows his brow and tilts his head. A bit of hair falls forward and he tucks it back.

“Uhhhh, what?” he asks. “Dis—disgusted me? You thought—” He looks back at the couch too. He is very flushed, his rut no doubt keeping him suspended on a perpetual edge, and his ears darken with a richer tinge of red. “Um. No.” He laughs at the ridiculousness, looking at you with wide, blinking eyes. “I, uh, I definitely don’t – I think you – I mean—”

“Um, yes,” you say, clasping your hands together again. You rock a little on the balls of your feet. “Yes. I can see that, um, I think you’re not disgusted.”

“No,” it comes out on a breath. His eyes drop from your face down your body. You look so simple, but he looks at you like no one has ever been more beautiful. “No, I’m not disgusted. Why did you think that?”

“You, um, you make faces sometimes,” you say. It sounds so petty and silly to say out loud, but it’s time to get it all out there. “And you’ve been so distant, Felix. I thought that maybe, now that you’re a werewolf, you didn’t want anything more to do with me.”

His face scrunches up with bewilderment.

“Nothing – nothing to do with you?” he asks, voice breaking where it pitches up. It would usually make you laugh, but now is not the time as you stare back, all your insecurities and vulnerabilities on display. He does not laugh at them either, taking a small step towards you with a tender look on his face. “I could never feel that way,” he says. “You’re my whole world. I – I’ve told you that. You’re my – you’re my person.”

“Chan said you felt like a monster,” you say softly. “I wish you would have told me how you felt. I could have told you that you aren’t a monster, not at all. You’re my person too, you know.”

He exhales, shoulders deflating. He rubs the bridge of his nose, thinking of something to say. Eventually he shakes his head and drops his hand.

“I didn’t want to be a burden,” he says. “You’ve been through so much. I couldn’t – I couldn’t ask you to take care of me too.”

“Felix,” you say, throat cloying with emotion. You take a step closer as well. “Felix, you’re not a burden. I wanted so badly to take care of you. I – I love you.”

The word love resonates like thunder. It pierces the air, leaves a ringing aftermath.

“You – you love me,” Felix says, like the words are incomprehensible. “As a – as a friend – or?” He tries to look disinterested but completely fails, staring at you with all that intensity again.

You combat the instinct to make yourself small, to hide your vulnerabilities, to retreat into denial and just smile prettily. You hold his gaze. When you smile, it is honest and affectionate.

“I love you, Felix,” you say. “As more than a friend. As everything.”

“Oh,” he says. His hand goes back into his hair, untucking it from behind his ear just to tuck it back again. His eyes dart everywhere like he is replaying the scene and scanning it for answers. He blinks at you. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you say, with a small laugh.

“But you – you never wanted to see me again,” he says, then lifts his brows, expression all at once understanding. “Because you thought I didn’t want you. Oh my god. I’m such an idiot.”

“I’m not the brightest either,” you tease.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, closing the distance yet again with another step. He forgets the state of his clothes and lets go of his pants, too wrapped up in his words to notice the startled drop of your eyes. Not much is exposed, just the shape of his hips and a stubborn bulge, but it still leaves you sweating.

“Look,” he says. “I – I can’t just say I love you.” Before your heart can sink, he continues frantically, “Because it’s not enough. I do, I do love you. The werewolf gene activated for you. The doctors asked if I had been in any dangerous situations that might have triggered it and I said no. They – they said it sometimes activates in peril, when you feel the need to protect yourself. That’s what happened to me. Except it wasn’t because I wanted to protect myself. I wanted to protect you.”

“Me?” you say in a small voice, like you can hardly believe it.

“Yes,” he says, smiling, both hands moving as he talks. “I felt so helpless, watching the way you were hurting. I wanted to protect you. I never wanted to see you suffering again. I tried to be calm around you but pushing it down just made the feeling more desperate. My wolf, it’s like my heart. It’s just an animal, you know? And it only understands loyalty and love. And the first time I changed, I didn’t think like a person, no, but I thought of you all the same. They could barely keep me contained in that hospital. I just wanted to run to you. I wanted to protect you. I wanted to keep you safe. Staying away from you… it’s been killing me.”

“Me too,” you say, so filled to brim with emotion you think you might burst. “Oh, Felix, me too.”

A laugh spills out of him, more of a release than humour. You take another step towards each other, this time close enough to clasp hands between you.

“I wish you would have told me,” you say. “But it’s my fault too. I know I’m still recovering in some ways. I’m quick to think little of myself. But I shouldn’t put you in the role of the mean voices in my head. I’m sorry too. So, so sorry.”

“How could you think I’d ever be disgusted with you?” he asks in a low voice.

When he cups your cheek, a shiver moves down your spine. You straighten, leaning into his touch, looking at him with wanting eyes. He swallows hard, staring back.

“It was silly,” you say. “I even thought you were seeing someone else. That werewolf lady in your pack. I thought maybe you wanted a werewolf mate and I wouldn’t be enough.”

“That’s crazy,” he says. “You’re my everything.”

“And you’re mine,” you say.

You touch his arm, just the lightest caress of your fingertips. His skin is so hot it makes you gasp. Your cool fingers must be a balm because his eyes close and a little sigh parts his lips.

“Uh,” he breathes, eyes still closed. “Sorry for what you, uh, saw, coming in— I promise I don’t usually – ruts are just—”

You step a little closer. You can feel his breath on your cheek when he breathes in and out.

His hands drop to his sides as you lean in and kiss his neck. It is just a chaste touch but it makes his eyes fly open. He looks at you and you swear his eyes have never been so dark.

“You want me,” he says. When you nod, he releases another deep breath, a massive exhale of relief. “Ruts are… intense,” he says.

“Mm,” is your gentle reply. Your eyes run down his bare skin, fingers itching to touch. You meet his gaze. “But it’s you, right?”

Some romances depict ruts as an out of control haze. Though Felix is certainly more intense, it is your best friend’s familiar eyes locked on yours. You realize it actually makes him the vulnerable one, all his desires so blatant, his needs on the surface, unable to hide them for a second. You understand why he held back, especially while you were in recovery. There is so much of him.

But that is what you love. You can never have enough.

“Yes,” he says.

His deep voice is so rough that it makes you whimper. His hand jumps at the sound, settles on the back of your neck like it did yesterday. Anticipation tingles from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes, every inch of your body aware of him, desperate for him.

“Yes,” he says again, staring at your mouth. “Yes, it’s me.”

Your breath catches when he squeezes your nape. In the back of your mind, you recall all those little courtship rituals of werewolves, the instincts that manifest between them and their mate. A gentle squeeze of the nape is a request for your submission, for you to put your trust in his strength and his affection.

You do, utterly. You rest your hands on his waist, your cool palms against his hot skin, making his eyes flash with hunger.

“What are you waiting for?” you ask, his mouth so close, kissing a tantalizing promise.

He smiles that real smile, eyes crinkling sweetly, sunshine radiating with all that heat.

“I told you, ruts can be intense,” he says. “I’m waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you.”

“You have it,” you say. Your eyes drop to his chest and you run your hand from his collarbone all the way down to his abdomen, watching the muscles tense under the caress of your fingers.

You smile at him, swiping at his hot skin with your fingertips as you step back. He lets you go, hands dropping to his sides. He moves when you do, like his whole body is tethered to yours, magnetized to your core. Each step you take, he follows with a fixated prowl.

“Do whatever you want with me,” you say, peeling down a strap of your dress. “I’m yours.”

His steps gain speed, his smile brightening. In a matter of seconds, he is chasing you into his bedroom, laughing behind your trail of giggles as you scamper ahead of him.

He catches you around the waist inside the bedroom, pulling your backside into his front. The straps of your dress are both lowered and you hold it to your chest with your hand, heart pounding from excitement and the little chase.

You make a sweet sound when his nose swipes your neck. You tip your head, offering more skin. It is a good thing his grip is so strong, because you tremble when he exhales, breath caressing your skin. He gathers your dress in his hands, plucking the fabric out of your grip. He pushes it down your body and it puddles on the floor.

“Felix,” you say on a sigh when he kisses the back of your neck while working his fingers under your bra. You help remove it, dropping it onto the floor. You rock back against him when he touches you. He uses both hands to cup your breasts and squeeze.

“Can’t believe you thought I was disgusted,” he says. “Like I didn’t spend my whole last rut in here thinking about you.”

“Y-you did?” you ask, with a little whimper, because his open jeans are not doing much to shield him and you can feel how hard he is against you.

“Yes,” he says, a hand coming up to circle your throat, gripping it possessively as he puts his teeth in your neck. It makes you jump in his arms, body shaking.

He holds you tight against him, the denim of his pants rough through the thin fabric of your tights.

“I’m sorry for all that,” you rasp. “I must have made it so hard for you.”

“Mm,” he says, grinning against your neck. “You made it very hard.”

“Pfft.” You slap a hand over your mouth when laughing. “That was a terrible joke.”

“Mm. True though.”

You squeak when he nudges you forward, so close to the bed that you stumble right onto it. He climbs up behind you, grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your back.

“At first, I was just sad,” he says.

He leans back to grab something off his bedside table. You admire the length of his body as he does, the low-slung jeans, the sheen of sweat across his chest, and his subtle, slender musculature.

You meet his gaze when he comes back. He is kneeling over you, a cocky grin on his face. He gathers his hair and ties it with the band he just grabbed.

“Then I really thought about it,” he says. “Mm, yeah, thought about hunting you down.” He straddles your thigh, his hands planting on either side of your head. “I’d find you and I’d remind where you belong.” He leans down, kissing along your jaw. “With me. Under me. Moaning my name. Forgetting about everything else.”

“Did you—” You start but gasp, his mouth on your throat, biting, sucking, licking. You arch your back, leaning into his mouth as he works his way down your body. “Did you… like with my shirt… when I saw you before…”

“What? Did I get off to your scent?” he asks. “Yes.” His hand follows his mouth, fingers curling into the band of your tights. “I told myself I shouldn’t. The last few ruts I managed. It wasn’t fun, mostly too hot, but I got by. But – you weren’t coming back, were you? You left so many pretty things here that made me think of you…”

He abruptly kneels upright. He uses both hands to grab the waistband of your tights.

“Found one of your cardigans,” he says. “Soft, like you. Put it on my pillow and fucked my hand like I wanted to fuck you.”

He rips your tights open with little effort, tearing right down to the thigh.

“Put it on my face,” he says. “Tasted it. Like I wanted to taste you.”

You moan for him, threading your fingers through his hair as he gets between your legs and opens his mouth on your pussy. He licks right through the material of your panties, like he doesn’t care at all, tormenting you with the obstruction until it is soaked through. You say his name over and over, your thighs already shaking just from warming up.

“Mmm.” He pushes himself up again, his mouth wet, tongue sweeping over his lips. He grabs your panties by the waistband and tugs them down.

By now, his jeans have slid down his hips. He is so hard, beading at the tip, as wet for you as you are for him. You watch as he uses your panties to quickly jerk his cock, gathering the wetness at the tip, then tossing them over his shoulder.

He falls back on top of you, face between your legs, licking you with nothing in his way.

“Wanted to find you,” he says between teasing kitten licks, looking up at you, smirking with the flick of his tongue. “Wanted to make you come so hard – mm, fuck you so good…” He slips two fingers inside you. Even though it has been some time, they move with no hindrance, your pussy so wet that he sinks right in.

“Yeah,” he says, momentarily going cross-eyed with his face so close to your pussy, watching his fingers move in and out of you. He grins when you clench around him. “Show you we were meant to be,” he says. “Just like this.” He licks you again, fingers moving so quickly that it sounds as obscenely wet as it feels. “Wolf or not. Knew you were mine. Was gonna make sure you know too.”

“Ohh,” you say, tugging at the blankets beneath you. “Who are you and what have you done with my sunshine Felix?”

He laughs, a low chuckle, the vibrations moving in your pussy.

“Mm, I’m right here, sweetheart,” he says. “Right… here…”

Then his mouth is occupied, little licks replaced with broad strokes of his tongue, then a repeating pattern that has you swelling and gushing on his tongue. You come so hard that it makes you dizzy, head thrown back as you squirt all over his thrusting fingers.

“That’s it,” he says, kissing your wet thighs.

While you are recovering, he grabs you and moves you. He arranges you neatly in the middle of the bed, making sure you are comfortable. Then he lets down his hair and removes his jeans.

“Felix,” you say, though it is generous to describe your voice as anything but a needy whimper.

He runs his hands up and down your trembling thighs, coaxing you open with murmurs of sweet nothings. You let him in, stringing your arms around his neck as he fits his hips between your legs and leans over you. You feel the head of his cock against your pussy, still throbbing with aftershocks. You are clenching around nothing, needing him, so ready you could scream.

You don’t scream, but sigh, like you are relieved when he gets inside you, like this is what you have been missing all along.

He takes his time despite the fever of his rut. Maybe because of it. His senses are so heightened, the pleasure felt so strongly. He groans, eyes closed, putting his face in your neck and breathing deeply as he slowly rocks into you.

“What were you thinking,” he murmurs, lips moving on your throat, “Trying to run away from me?”

“I’m – I’m sorry,” you say, interrupted with a hiccupping little uh-uh when he rolls his hips and you feel him deeper, harder, faster.

“You thought I wanted someone else?” he asks. “Impossible.”

Your eyes are closed, head thrown back. He grabs your chin and pulls your face to him, says, “Look at me. Right now.”

You do, blinking your eyes open. His thumb rubs your bottom lip and you open your mouth. You don’t even need to think, instantly accepting the intrusion of the digit, sucking on it while holding his gaze.

It would have terrified you a year ago, with anyone else, losing yourself to instinct like that, opening yourself up so willingly. With Felix, it feels right, it feels good.

“It’s you and me,” he says. “You understand that?”

You nod, humming affirmatively around his thumb. It rubs over your tongue, opens your mouth a little more. You want to close your eyes with every rolling thrust into you, but he tugs your face back to him when you try.

“You’re my mate,” he says. “Just you. It’s always – always been you.” He groans on the second always, picking up some speed, making you whine against his fingers.

He is so hot, clearly in the grips of his rut fever, but you cling to him, accepting everything he has to offer.

“Gonna be mine,” he says. “That’s right, yeah?” You nod frantically. “Yeah. Gonna put a ring on your finger. You’re gonna be so good to me, aren’t you? Gonna let me take care of you. Gonna be my mate. Gonna have my children. You and me. Home. Oh, yes, sweetheart, that’s it—”

You clench so tightly at the mention of children. It catches you off guard, your body’s visceral and immediate response, faster than your brain compute can why. You have told Felix you want children one day, in the future, back when you were just friends and it was an abstract thought. Thinking of a home with him, having his children, making a whole life together, being bound so completely …

“Fuck,” you say, his thumb sliding out of your mouth. He cups your face to keep it locked on him, your lips brushing each other.

“Look at me,” he whispers.

You do, though you are so close that you barely see him. It feels like he is everywhere, everything, around you and inside you. You melt when he kisses you, stealing your breath as he claims you so completely. You kiss back, messy and haphazard, all heat and wetness, but it feels good.

“C-can’t get pregnant,” you say with a pout, a bit delirious from getting fucked, letting the words roll thoughtlessly off your tongue. “B-birth control.”

“I know,” he says. He moves a little, gets up so he can hold your hips and pull you onto his cock with every thrust. “I’m stronger,” he says, just as deliriously, watching where his cock moves inside you. “Yeah. Gonna fill you up so much, it’ll happen anyway. It can’t stop me.”

He holds your hips, keeps you in place. He thrusts into you deeply and says, “You’re mine,” and thrusts again, “You’re mine,” and thrusts again, “You’re mine,” and comes inside you.

It is not quite like all the werewolf pornography, with exaggerated knots on preposterously sized cocks, but werewolf physiology is still a little different than human. That difference is exacerbated on a rut. You feel it as he comes, the way he swells and gets harder, just enough that you feel your fullest as he releases. Pushing at you walls, stretching you around him, making you his without question.

He doesn’t really soften after, the rut sustaining him, but the swelling goes down. Even then, not entirely, as you feel a sharper burn when he pulls out of you. The flicker of pain is oddly tantalizing, a biting sensation on top of so many others. It ripples through you, makes you moan.

Your whole body is twitching, eyes closed as you come back to yourself.

You look up at Felix. His eyes are between your legs, his hand running up your thigh. You feel his thumb spread your pussy open, feel his release spilling out of you. That is the other different element; with a werewolf, there is a lot more of everything.

Though you know your birth control will function regardless, when you feel all that inside you… for a moment, you believe he might be strong enough to overpower it.

It makes you giddy, pleasure moving through your body. He smiles at you, all sunshine and sweetness. Then he takes control of your hips and puts himself back inside you. The refractory period on a rut is virtually nonexistent on the peak day, which is usually the second day, which is today.

“You okay?” he asks, rocking into you slowly even though he fits so easily now, your body made to take him.

You nod, sliding your hands over his shoulders. You scratch across his back then up in his hair, making him grunt and close his eyes. He leans down and kisses you, continuing to fuck you until you are making all those sweet sounds again.

“Good?” he asks, kissing your jaw, your neck.

“Good,” you say.

“Not too much?” he checks.

“Mm, no,” you say. You give him a teasing smile. “Not enough actually.”

“Oh, really?” He laughs, eyes big with playful incredulity. “Should I growl and bite more?” He makes a playful snarl like the werewolves in all the erotica.

It makes you laugh. You can’t remember the last time you laughed while having sex, but it feels so good, just as good as all the hot, desperate stuff.

“Hmm, maybe not,” he says, laughing too. “Maybe all the making-a-bitch stuff is a bit much, hm?”

It seems you will learn more about yourself than him over this rut, because that also makes you clench involuntarily. He blinks with surprise, mouth in a soft ‘o’ as he looks down at you. He laughs just a little at the look on your face, a low chuckle as his grin widens.

You cover your mouth, blinking innocently up at him.

“Oh shit,” he says. “I see.”

You pout when he pulls out of you, but there is little time to feel bereft because he flips you over onto your front. Your face lands in the pillows, then he yanks you down the bed.

Oh, it feels filthy suddenly, because the new angle opens you up and you can feel come dripping out of you. It catches his eye too, because he puts his fingers there and stuffs it back inside you.

With little effort, he gets you back under him, pushes down your shoulders and lifts up your hips. You feel him at your entrance again, pushing the tip past the rim.

“Is that it?” he asks, dropping his voice so low yet sounding so sweet. “You want me to make you my bitch, baby?”

He slams home, holding your hips up while pounding into you with relentless measure. You grab a pillow to hold, yelping and whining into it as he fucks you with wild abandon.

For a few seconds, you succumb to that single-minded animalistic pursuit, and you really do believe he can put a baby in you. You start babbling the desire – begging for it, asking him to fill you up.

“Please, please, please,” you say, gasping.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says, draping himself over your back, not stopping his hips for a second. “I got you. I’ll give you a baby. So good for me. Made to take it from me, yeah, baby?”

You know you are going to come again, his angle and precision too much to withstand. Sure enough, you are coming all over his cock in a matter of seconds, squeezing him into another orgasm too.

He kneels behind you, throws his head back while coming. Then he grinds inside you like he is trying to get it as deep as possible.

“Oh, Felix,” you say, whimpering when he pulls out, still hard, the burn less this time because you are so filthy wet that he slides so easily. You can feel his release gush out of you, his fingers chasing it, pushing back into you.

He rubs at you until you are rocking your hips and coming on his fingers. It is so much stimulation that your eyes water and your nose starts to sniffle.

He rolls you over and cups your face. You open your mouth instinctively, tilting your head to expose your neck. He looks at you like he can’t really believe you are exist and that you are here.

“Wow,” he says. The hand on your face slides so he can put his thumb back in your mouth, letting you suck on it like it is giving you life. He clenches his jaw, makes a rough sound, presses down on your needy tongue. “Next time,” he says, while starting to put his cock back into you, “Your mouth. And my mouth. You’re gonna sit on my face for hours. I’m gonna take care of you. Oh—”

He is halfway inside you when you reach up, putting your hands on his chest. He stops immediately, pulling out, taking back his hands, looking at you with a concerned tilt to his head.

“Will you lay on your back?” you ask, voice hoarse.

He blinks, like for a second he doesn’t understand words, but then he obeys. His hair is in absolute disarray, a veritable lion’s mane. He rakes it back, smooths it down as best he can. He never takes his eyes off you, watching as you sit up, as you climb on top of him, as you put him back inside you and set a slower pace.

“My turn,” you say, smiling. “I want to take care of you too.”

He smiles, putting his hands on your hips but not guiding them. He lets you take the lead, moving on top of him, finding all the ways to make him moan and close his eyes and twitch inside you.

You make him come twice that way. After the second time, he finally starts to soften enough that you can take a break.

You lay down beside him, squeaking with surprise when you press down on your belly and a little more come gushes out of you. You look at each other, his face the picture of total innocence despite his hand in it. You swat his chest, rolling onto your side and putting your head on his chest.

He laughs, putting his arm around you, stroking your back.

“You know I do mean it,” he says, looking down at you. “I want everything with you.”

“Me too,” you say. You kiss his chest, then his neck, under his jaw, making him sigh contently. “I love you, Felix. Everything about you, wolf and all.”

“I love you too,” he says, pressing you close, kissing your forehead.

There is a long moment of content silence. He strokes your back, up and down, lulling you to a dozy state. It is too early to sleep and, besides, the sheets need changing before that – even though you suspect they will just be dirtied again.

You are contemplating these sweet mundane nothings when he says, “You’re in the pack, you know. As my mate. That makes you one of us.”

“Does it?” you ask.

“Yes,” he says. “I’m telling you this, because you’re a packmate and Chan is leader, but you’re my mate, so you have to take my side and tell him to fuck off when he tries to say I told you so.”

You laugh, shaking your head and playfully rolling your eyes.

“Sounds good,” you say. “Hmm, I might go have a shower before… the next… round…”

You do not have to look down to know that he is hard already, his blinking gaze revealing all. You giggle together and kiss again.

“All right, fair enough,” you say, eyes closed, exposing your neck obediently when he cups your nape. You press against him, moaning softly when he scents your neck then sucks a bruising kiss there. “It can wait,” you say, smiling. “We’ve been waiting for this long enough.”

“Mm,” he says, already slipping back into his feverish need. He grabs you and pulls you back on top of him.

There is not much talking for a while, but there is some laughter and plenty of smiles, and for the first time in a long time, you are looking forward to everything that follows after.

#lee felix x reader #felix x reader #lee felix smut #felix smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x you #skz x you #yongbbokkie #valentinesdaystories

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keferon · 5 months ago

Note

im glad that my first submission was enjoyed. this was meant to be a part of it, but i struggle a lot more writing first aids pov than vortexs. its still not perfect, but i figure i should let it out into the wild before it drives me crazy.

some further questions: what exactly are the quintessons made of? are they techno-organic? entirely mechanical? or like...synthetic materials mimicking biology? and whats up with the program that produced vortex? did it shut down? or is it still operating (maybe under shockwave now?) did jazz go through it?

______________________________________________________________

His head is killing him.

Felix comes to in the unyielding dark of Vortex’s cockpit, squinting uselessly before giving up, letting his head lean back against the seatrest. It pulses in time with his heartbeat- elevated- sending waves of fresh misery through him. But he’s alive, Vortex let him live, and the realization pulls a miserable laugh from him.

Vortex saved him.

From Pharma.

The thought is like ice water poured over his head washing away any lingering exhaustion. Pharma. What the hell was going on? Why did he-? Had the irritable CMO finally lost it? Or was there something else going on?

Felix’s stomach churns uncomfortably at the thought of Pharma obeying another- who would order this? Who could order this? To what end? How had none of the other medical staff noticed? Or did they notice and not care?

His stomach lurches again, and Felix fumbles at the restraints- looser, now- and finally manages to hit the quick release clasp, practically flopping forward before he catches himself, swaying pathetically in the dark- pulling his helmet off is a welcome relief, the cooler air of the cabin circulating around his abused head. All of his muscles are sore, each joint something just a little firmer than liquid. The only light comes from the running lights, blinking on like soft red stars against Vortex’s night, and Felix lets himself stare blankly at a particularly interesting assortment of them, trying to will the nausea to subside.

It does not. In fact, it strikes back with a vengeance, and Felix presses a fist to his mouth to stifle his suffering. It works, somewhat, his gorge settling slightly. He needs to get out of here, out of the blood-and-bleach scented warmth of Vortex before he overstays his welcome. Maybe he already has, and Vortex is just biding his time before he kills Felix gruesomely. Right on cue, he can feel the familiar faint prickling sensation of cameras and infrared sensors being trained on him, the behemoth paying its quarry its undivided attention.

“Vortex,” he says, or more accurately, tries to say. All that comes out of his mouth is a pathetic little groan. His stomach is churning again now.

“Vortex.” he tries again while fumbling for the canopy hatch- God, movement was a bad idea- and while it still fails the benchmark of being a word, it at least sounds like Vortex’s name.

His gorge rises again, and Felix can’t stop the faint whimper as he runs his hands over the instrument panel, looking for the canopy release lever. He is not going to throw up inside Vortex, even if worse things have been thoroughly ground into the panels and seams of the mech. Felix still has some pride. And he doesn’t need to risk Vortex’s wrath any more than he has.

“Vortex.” and now it sounds like a proper name. Felix can feel the hum of Vortex’s machinery and wiring change underneath his palms. His head spins, and the tug of exhaustion has returned, borne on the back of the enveloping warmth of the cockpit.

His stomach flips again.

“Vortex, open the cockpit.” Felix tries, giving up on fumbling in the dark for the lever. “Please,” he amends, because apparently his manners have left with his health.

The darkness takes on a vaguely threatening feeling. Vortex must have spent all his goodwill on not killing Felix earlier.

“Vortex, please-” he gags, pressing his fist to his mouth again, “I- I’m going to-”

He gags again, and this time- thank you, Vortex!- the canopy lifts, barely a few feet before coming to a stubborn stop, the dull halogen glow of the docking bay lights breaching the cockpit. The opaque filter over the canopy bleeds away, returning the familiar blood-red hue to Vortex’s visor. Felix barely makes it to the edge of the cockpit before throwing up, practically lying out over the instrument panel as his arms fail him. It spatters, worryingly dark against the burnished metal of the catwalk. He lies there bonelessly, his throat burning and head spinning. How the hell had his life ended up like this? Cosmic punishment for stealing organs still? Felix had thought getting demoted to nurse and resident Vortex-cleaner punishment enough.

He eventually rolls off of his stomach and carefully (gracelessly) slithers back to sit on the floor of the cockpit, head resting against the instrument panel, staring up at the cockpit ceiling. The dark plating is smooth, almost seamlessly jointed together, only interrupted by the explosion of wires and cording comprising the neural connectors. It’s…almost peaceful, in the cockpit, with only the purr of Vortex’s systems humming through the panel that Felix is resting his head on interrupting the silence. The halogens filter through the red polycarbonate of Vortex’s canopy, staining the light bloody ruby.

His mouth is dry. Horrifically dry. He needs water. Getting water means leaving the relative safety of Vortex’s cockpit.

Water can wait.

Pharma might still be out there, lurking.

His head swims, stomach vaguely threatening to rebel again. Felix turns his head, pressing his cheek to the warm metal of the instrument panel. It feels pretty nice. This particular piece of Vortex only smells like metal and circuitry, not blood. If he closes his eyes, it’s just pleasantly dark enough to settle into a half-sleep slumped against Vortex’s plating. His skin prickles faintly.

The pang! Of a piece of plating hitting the floor wakes him from his doze, sending fresh gouges of pain rippling across his skull. Felix blinks, headache settling squarely behind his right eye socket and encompassing his entire skull. Where had that come from? Was something wrong with Vortex? Or more likely, had Vortex tired of his presence and was preparing to finally kill him?

The plating sits on the flooring, looking as deceptively innocent as any non-sentient sheet of metal can. Felix huddles back further against the instrument paneling. The canopy was shut sometime while he was drowsing, completely locking him in. Light ripples across the cockpit, and Felix slowly twists around to squint up at the display.

[OPEN THE BAG]

Bag. Open the bag. What bag?

Felix casts helplessly around the cockpit space, searching- there! In a shadowed cubby against the far wall, which- if he remembers from the pilot’s manual correctly- should not be there. Felix attempts to stand, legs wobbling, before giving up and crawling over to the alcove. His skin prickles again, and he refuses to feel shame underneath Vortex’s mechanical gaze. It’s because of the stupid medical boot. Not him. He pushes the loose plating aside and is rewarded with a screech of metal-on-metal that sends his head throbbing again. Felix sags against the wall with a groan before throwing what’s left of his caution to the wind, sticking his hand into the alcove and dragging the bag out. Vortex does not take his hand off. Not even a finger gets scraped on the exposed metal. There’s not a hint of violence from the mech, and Felix sneaks a glance at one of the cockpit cams. It’s trained directly on him, lens shadowed in the claret gloom. He gives it a weak smile.

The bag is the heavy black polyester duffle ubiquitous to military installations, and it takes a bit of fumbling for Felix to find the zipper and tug it open. Inside is a fresh pilot’s uniform-the Nomex base-side kind, a small toolkit, a radio, a number of MREs and-

Water.

Felix grabs the first bottle, twisting the cap off and chugging the water down. It’s warm, with a strange plasticky aftertaste. It’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. He drinks another just as fast, water settling heavy in his stomach and washing the taste of bile from his mouth before leaning back against the wall again, the steady rumble of machinery behind it a small comfort. The ex-medic checks the cockpit display, but it remains a steady blank. Another check to the camera confirms that it’s still trained directly at him. Felix gives it a second awkward smile.

“Vortex- I ah…I- thanks.” He finishes lamely, rubbing his face. His skin is disgustingly oily to the touch. What do you say to a thousand-ton killing machine when it doesn’t kill you? “For-”

Not killing me.

Saving me from the evil clutches of Pharma.

Giving me water.

“For everything. Yeah.” Felix cringes at the awkward words. He’s never been particularly well-spoken, but this is just embarrassing. He almost wishes that Vortex would try to kill him again, just for the possibility to escape this torture.

They sit in silence, Felix’s gaze focused on the floor, skin prickling. His stomach clenches, water threatening to make a reappearance.

He should’ve known better to drink anything Vortex offered. He slowly stands, one hand against the wall of the cockpit for stability before slowly crossing to the front. “...can you please open the cockpit?” He hazards, one hand pressed to his openly rebelling stomach.

There’s the distinctive sound of the locking pins dropping. Felix winces as his stomach clenches again.

“Please-” he retches, throat burning as bile forces itself back up his worn esophagus. “I-I don’t wanna-”

The canopy lifts with an almost petulant hiss of the hydraulics, only a few feet again. And again, Felix barely gets his head out of the cockpit before throwing up. The water burns as it leaves, and Felix spits a few times after it to clear his mouth, hand pressed to his cramping stomach. His head pounds under the unrelenting light, and he slips back into the welcoming dim dark of the cockpit. For the second time that day, Felix finds himself sitting on the floor of Vortex’s cockpit, mouth sour and throat stinging, staring up at the ruby wash of light across the ceiling. The canopy hisses shut, locking pins ch-chunk-ing into place with finality. The red light ripples, disturbed, and Felix can’t stop the weary sigh as he lifts his head to read Vortex’s words.

[FELIX-BABY, YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO SWALLOW]

Felix feels his cheeks heat, and he looks away from the chiding display. He’s not sure which is worse, being called baby by Vortex or the joke.

“I threw up. That's different.” He mutters, running hands through his sweat-stiff hair.

The ventilation stutters, on-off-on-off, like human laughter. His cheeks heat more.

[DRINK MORE. SLOWLY]

Felix gawks at the screen. He must have brain damage- there’s no way Vortex is giving him medical advice. Advice in general, actually. This must be a trick of some kind.

But he is thirsty.

He shuffles back over to the bag.

Opens another water bottle.

He drinks slowly, stealing small sips each time until the bottle is mostly empty and his stomach settles into a kind of low-grade simmer. His headache eases some. Immediate crisis resolved, Felix’s attention wanders back to the medical boot. Why does he have it? His leg doesn’t hurt- he wracks his brain, did he injure it sometime before Pharma got to him? Or did he put up enough of a fight to injure himself? Was that why he was drugged?

His memories are not forthcoming, but it makes sense. Many sedatives interfere with the formation of new memories; if it was put on at around the same time as the IV, his brain might not have had the ability to recall why.

It leaves only one course of action.

Felix fumbles with the buckles and straps- thank god Pharma only used one of the temporary, removable braces rather than something more permanent like plaster or fiberglass. Otherwise he’d have to stick his leg into Vortex’s machinery to get it off. He pulls the boot off with little difficulty, studying his leg. A simple check; wiggling his toes, rolling his ankle, flexing his knee. No pain. Not even any cuts or bruises cross his flesh. Which means…Felix pokes around the wads of cotton padding pulled from the brace. There!

A small metal device, no bigger than a coin, nestled into a fold of gauze. A tracker? Or some kind of…recording device? He holds it up for inspection, skin crawling as Vortex’s cameras and scanners snap to it. A surge of malevolence fills the cabin, Vortex’s wrath roused by the discovery. Plating rattles, the low purr of the mech’s engine climbing to a dull roar. Felix draws his legs to his chest, curling against the bag for its flimsy protection, device clutched tight in his fist. Another panel pops loose, clatter of metal half-drowned by the increasing volume of machinery grinding.

[DESTROY IT]

Felix does not need to be told twice, scrambling to toss the cursed thing into Vortex’s grinding gears. It’s shredded immediately, fragile circuits ripped apart and ground to silicone dust in the face of his fury. There’s a high pitched whine- Vortex’s weapons systems charging, oh god- before it all subsides. The silence is profound against the pain in Felix’s head, the mech’s engines and drives settling down towards their previous quiet purr like nothing happened. The plating stills, returning to inert, the gap where Vortex had offered Felix a place to throw the thing the only break in the metal.

The medic carefully replaces the panel covering the humming machinery, plating hooking into place smoothly, seamless. No response from Vortex. He casts a glance at the cockpit canopy, but there’s no chance that Vortex will let him out, and he’s not about to ask after all of… that. There’s only one thing for him to do, other than try to sleep- which is not happening.

He goes through the bag again, trying to regain some semblance of calm, hands clammy. The toolkit is compact, but it has a surprising number of tools, most of which Felix has no idea how to use. He's a medic by training, not a mechanic. He carefully checks each one anyways to occupy himself, pristine metal warm and smooth against his fingers. Next are the MREs. Still sealed and within expiry date, no obvious signs of tampering. He puts them back in the bag. But the real prize is the pilot’s uniform, fabric stiff with disuse and heavy across the shoulders and chest with patches. Felix pulls the suit out of the bag and half unfolds it over his lap, running his fingers over the patches crowding the suit. Different patches for different bases, various military campaigns from all over the world, rank, even for different specialties. The owner had been cross-trained as a helicopter mechanic.

He lingers over the name, petting over the coarse thread picking out VORTEX over the right breast of the suit. Felix toys with the velcro; his own pilot patches haven’t come in yet…

It’s a dirty thought, stealing a dead man’s name tape for his own use, especially if the dead man in question is watching and prone to fly into fits of rage. Felix might’ve sunk low to reach this point in his life, but Pharma must’ve really dosed him up with something if he’s this out of his mind to even consider such a thing. He shouldn’t even want Vortex’s name emblazoned over his shoulder. But the thought lingers the longer he stares at the patches.

Pilots typically wear number badges to denote their mech anyway, what’s the harm in wearing a name instead? Vortex is already known better by his name than by his serial number. It’s fitting for his pilot to wear his name too. Vortex seems like the kind who’d like that sort of thing.

Felix hastily folds the suit up, stuffing it back into the bag before temptation can overwhelm sense. His unfortunate predilections aside, stealing from the dead is a violation of numerous ethical codes, and he’s pretty sure Vortex would kill him for even considering taking something so personal from the remainder of his belongings. Even if the mech has been almost…tame towards him so far. Not a pinch or a threat. Even some banter. No, this must be the calm before the metaphorical vortex sucks him in and kills him.

He casts a reluctant glance towards the exit again, skin prickling. He’s just going to have to wait this one out. It’s not a terrible concept, waiting here in the dark and warm for Vortex to make his mind up. It’s not like Pharma can find his way in. Whatever happens, it’s at least a break to figure out what he does next. Whatever that is.

ANON. ANON LET ME PICK YOU UP AND HOLD YOU FOREVER. ANON I DONT KNOW YOUR NAME BUT I WANNA HOLD YOUR HAND FKFKGKMRJFKFNDJKSK

Haha mmm. I'm fine I'm okay I'm normal

Yeah so about Quintessons. I imagine they can be all kind of creatures. Organic, techno organic, straight up just techno. Tf:one, Cyberverse, straight up Pacific rim Kaijus. All kinds of monsters haha

Also, Vortex was the part of the first batch of pilots for Mecha program. The technology was very new and VERY underdeveloped so...yeah, Vortex was part time pilot and part time lab rat.

The whole process of making someone into a pilot was a lot more dangerous and painful back then because no one really knew what they were doing. But after some time it became safer and less painful. So when Jazz joined he didn't suffer as much as Vortex. And when later Blurr joined he didn't suffer as much as Jazz.

(You didn't ask but. I like to think that Vortex knows quite a lot about all kinds of side effects of neural connection. Also about side effects of physical procedures and all kinds of weird fucked up experiments. Just because. You know. He went through it all. A lot of times.)

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#tf mecha universe #texaid #mecha writing #mecha ta writing #vortex #first aid #AAAUUUHH I LOVE THIS THING SO MUCHHH #long post

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lixies-favorite-cookie · 5 months ago

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⋆.˚ ☁︎ TEENAGE DREAM ☁︎︎ ⋆.˚

—sometimes at eighteen, young love is anything but a teenage dream.

genres・fluff // young love // awkward confessions // meet cutes. summary・love is embarrassing, especially when you're in high school. from the cozy coffee shop to the local campus, eight boys stumble through the awkward world of crushes—trying, and failing to confess to you. taglist ・@its-stayville-forever, @aris078, @emilywjinnie

a/n・I haven't been on here for a little while, but I wanted to do something silly and fun to celebrate 500 amazing followers! All of these ideas are still in the works, so the plots may change, but I'm having so much fun writing them. I get hit with a pang of nostalgia every once in a while, remembering my very first fanfiction, haha. If you want to be tagged in any of these, just comment down below or send me an ask—and always remember to support your content creators; it means the world to us!!

☁︎︎ COFFEE CUP ☁︎︎

BANG CHAN loved being a barista; not only did he get exceptional employee discounts but it was peaceful—he handed people their coffee, they said thank you and walked away—nobody ever bothered him. that is, until one night, ten minutes before closing, you walked in with your bright smile and garrulous chit-chat. It only took you one sentence to have him hooked, eagerly waiting for your next late-night visit. what is bang chan going to do when he finally works up the nerve to write his number on the sleeve of your coffee cup, only for you to toss it away without ever seeing it? (coming to your shelves December 10th)

☁︎︎ ROSE ☁︎︎

LEE KNOW was famous for being the star quarterback turned heartless bachelor—or so everybody thought. nobody could have guessed that the reason minho chased every woman away was because, hidden 60 miles from home, there was the animal shelter where he volunteered. the reason he drove an hour every day to nurture abused pets? you. what is minho going to do when, no matter how many roses he gives you, you just can’t take the hint? (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ MOTORCYCLE ☁︎︎

︎SEO CHANGBIN. there’s nothing he loves more than his motorcycle—well, that’s not entirely true. he probably loves you more, but his motorcycle is certainly a close second. with prom looming, changbin finally gathers enough courage to ask out his long-time crush and childhood best friend. what is changbin going to do when, halfway through, he chickens out—and, in a panic, ends up ramming his motorcycle into your mailbox while trying to back out of your driveway? (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ MY MUSE ☁︎︎

HWANG HYUNJIN has been in love with you for about as long as he’s understood the word love; stuck in the seat beside you since elementary school, hyunjin grew to adore the soft curves of your features. one day, in the middle of art class, he's struck with the urge to draw you. overcome with the fear of never getting the chance to tell you how he feels, hyunjin stuffs the picture in your locker. what is hyunjin going to do when he overhears you talking to your friends about the drawing—and you mention his enemy's name, and not his? (coming to your shelves soon...)︎︎

☁︎︎ LYRIC BOOK ☁

HAN JISUNG is dedicated to securing the top spot in his songwriting class, and nothing is going to stand in his way. that was, until three years ago, when you walked through the door, head held high, speaking of your goals as if they were already part of the present. jisung never thought there would be any competition—until there was. now, he doesn’t know whether to write songs about his overwhelming hatred or his overwhelming ardor. what is jisung going to do when, one day, you’re paired with him for a project, and you discover all the love songs he’s written about you? (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ SUGAR AND SPICE ☁︎︎

LEE FELIX, the school's sunshine, the universe’s fallen star—nothing was going to get him down. well, except for you. no matter how hard he tries, felix just can’t form a sentence around you; his tongue twisting into sailor’s knots whenever you look his way. what is felix going to do when he tries to confess through a cake, baked fresh in the culinary class you share, but trips over his shoelaces and smears the cake all over your shirt instead? (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ BASEBALL ☁

KIM SEUNGMIN worked with a focus nobody else seemed to reciprocate, constantly practicing to be the best pitcher this world has ever seen. his teammates respected him, his coach loved him, and the school only ever saw his poised manners—not the awkward teenager he really was. that is, until he meets you—equally shy and almost as painfully awkward, studying on the bleachers every day after school. there's something about your concentration, the self- assured direction you set for yourself, that makes him want you even more. what is he going to do when, one day after practice, he scrawls his number on a ball and chucks it toward you? and for once, the ball doesn’t go where he aimed. instead of landing in your lap, he nails you right in the forehead. (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ THE BOOK WAS BETTER ☁︎︎

YANG JEONGIN lived in the library. on the days when he wasn’t cramming for an exam, he was relaxing with a good book. the library had always been peaceful for him—a sanctuary that students rarely ever touched. that is, until one random morning, he sees you walk in—captain of the cheerleading squad, with your tiny skirt and sparkly eyelids, jeongin almost expects you to laugh at him and his pathetic seating arrangement—all alone. but then, checking to see if anyone’s watching, you pull a book from the shelf, and begin to read it. that's how it started—now, every day during lunch, you come and read your book, safe in the shadows, creating a home nobody else knew about. what is he going to do when he starts falling for you, through the notes he slips into your book after you leave? And what will happen when the wrong girl comes in and tries to take the book? (coming to your shelves soon...)

a special thank you to @jeonginsleftcheek who helped me flesh out all these ideas. I couldn't do any of this without you!! I hope you like these stories <33

#stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz x reader #skz #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #bangchan x reader #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x y/n #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #han jisung x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids oneshot #stray kids blurb #— 🍪 writings

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therandompagesblog · 6 months ago

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SKZ Mate Chapter 17

Warnings: Read at your own will, trauma, bondage, abuse, assault, obsession, stockholm syndrome, brainwashing, paraphilic infantilism, loss of freedom, loss of will, religious abuse, ritual abuse, sacrilege, grey sexual assault (reader doesn't confirm), odaxelagnia, soul binding, uncomfortable themes, judgements, angst, ateez are evil (not in real life), humiliation, sexual humiliation, murder, violence, self harm, manipulation, implied non concent

Living with someone for 6 years you learn so much. You learn what makes them tick. You learn what angers them. You know there likes and dislikes. What you don't expect is for your world to come crashing down and everything you love to sicken you. Every idea of them to change. It felt wrong to say the people who cared and loved you were monsters. It was wrong to even think they were anything different and that was the hardest pill for Y/N to swallow. She knew for years the real truths but she loved that about them. She loved their flaws. She loved them, but there was nothing she could do now. Y/N had to learn to love again and learn a whole new meaning of love, but right now her heart couldn't take anymore. She was tired, hurt and heartbroken to the point Hyunjin had to drag her by the scruff of her neck back to their home. She didn't fight him, instead, she fell limp in his mouth like a dead wolf while Jeongin trotted behind them. Jeongin tried to keep his thoughts quiet, not wanting to impose his views or thoughts. "Hyunjin. Jeongin. Is Y/N alright? Please say she's alright. I tried to phone Chan but his phone is switched off." Minho ran out of the house when he saw the two wolves carrying a limp grey wolf to the door. The grey wolf looked lifeless, dead even.

Y/N could hear it in Minho's voice that he was distraught, but she didn't have the energy to lift her head up. She heard Minho walk towards her when Hyunjin let out a threatening growl, causing the beta to gasp. "Hyunjin I'm not going to hurt her. I want to see her." Minho almost pleaded but Hyunjin snarled at him. The elder beta was trying his best to reach the omega but the alphas were too standoffish. Jeongin too was not prepared to let another beta near her as he covered the omega. "Jeongin." Minho whimpered as he looked at the young alpha who he grew up with. It shocked the wolf, he never expected such aggression from the young alpha. Minho didn't know what to do, he felt lost as an elder. None of the wolves were listening to him. Seungmin and Changbin had practically outcasted Felix for causing their omega to leave. They thought that Y/N wanted to return to Hongjoong, but what they didn't realise was that she wanted to stop Hongjoong. They didn't understand. None of the beta's did and it was upsetting them. They couldn't settle knowing something was wrong with their omega. They needed their alphas to communicate, they needed to know to fix this. In the end, Minho gave up and retreated back inside to see a broken Felix curled up on the sofa, tears streaming down his face as he shook. "Felix why don't you go upstairs and rest." Minho offered. "I can't. Changbin broke my nest. He said it was all my fault. He said I'm a terrible beta. He said I should have been born an omega." Felix's shuddered as he heard a bang coming from his room.

Minho decided he couldn't take it anymore and stormed up to Felix's room to stop the Beta's when an angry Chan called them all downstairs. The four betas stood in front of Chan quietly as they faced him. "Now, I don't know what has happened, but right now my omega is my priority. What I need from you is to sort yourselves out. Until I know how she is, none of you are walking away from this. You are my pack. My wolves. My family, so do not fight. She is our family so stop this nonsense." Chan's voice was low as he spoke to them. "I-I'm sorry." Felix sniffed out. Chan gave a nod of recognition before heading outside to phase into his wolf form. Chan's silver wolf headed straight to his omega, sniffing all over her, checking for wounds. "Y/N? Baby, are you alright?" Chan nudged her with his snout, whining. Y/N flashed a load of images in her mind of what happened but Chan didn't understand so Hyunjin explained how she wanted to protect them. How she felt she could reason with Hongjoong and why her feelings were acceptable. As much as Chan didn't like seeing it, he needed to understand everything. He needed to truly understand who Hongjoong was and what he was capable of in order to protect his pack. To protect Y/N and Hyunjin. "They. They hurt her Chan. They hurt our omega. They did things." Jeongin tried to explain but ended up sharing a load of images causing Y/N to whine in pain. "I still don't understand. Someone explain to me what is going on." Chan growled as he licked her face affectionately. "Chan we need to get her to phase. Y/N never phases. She never phased with Hongjoong. She's going to be exhausted." Hyunjin explained with a huff causing the head alpha to snap his head up at the black wolf "How do you know she never phased, huh? You can read minds not her whole life story." Chan's voice was hoarse as he noticed the way Hyunjin crouched over her. He noticed it in the car as he was pulling up, the way Hyunjin was checking over her, nuzzling affectionately. Hyunjin looked as if he was familiar with her and Chan knew there was something Hyunjin wasn't telling him. Hyunjins silence told him all that he needed to know. "I stole you from Hongjoong. My omega. My soulmate lived with Hongjoong. Don't you think that's odd? You're still full of secrets Hyunjin. I thought we were past that." Chan asked darkly as he pulled the limp omega towards him with his paw, dominating his authority, and showing him the power he has. "She is yours. She is Jeongins but she is also mine." Hyunjin answered. Both wolves not realising a confused Jeongin was watching the scene unfold. He had no idea what was about to happen. "I could take her away from you. I could remove you." Chan asked causing the young alpha to gasp. He didn't expect Chan to banish Hyunjin, surely there was an explanation. "You could remove me and strip me of my titles, but then you'll never know how me and her are bound," Hyunjin stated, his wolf standing taller, preparing to challenge if he had to. "I never lied to you. I just hid my knowledge of he-" "I can still hear you, you know," Y/N grumbled causing the wolves to freeze.

Jeongin whined and crawled under his head alpha to reach the omega to nuzzle. The young alpha was feeling heavily confused and wanted her to rest. Chan huffed as he felt the small alpha crawl under him like a child. Chan smacked the back of his head at his childlike behaviour causing the younger alpha to huff. Jeongin nuzzled Y/N affectionately to remind her he still was there. "Let's phase back. I'll tell you what I know about Hongjoong." Y/N answered groggily. "We can do it tomorrow when Jisung is better." Jeongin offered. "Better? What did you do?" Y/N asked. Fear clouded her mind. "Jisung went into a rut. After feeling you around him." Chan answered, glaring at the thought of Jisung accidentally 'falling into her', until a thought popped into his head, Hyunjin would have claimed already. "Don't be so disappointed. I always looked after my pretty omega." Hyunjin taunted causing Chan to growl in a threatening manner but Y/N put a stop to it when she managed to phase back on her own, frightening Jeongin with her nakedness along the way.

Once the two hot-headed alphas put aside their feud temporarily, Y/N was ready to tell her story. It wasn't a nice story but they were all prepared for it and knew they had to listen to understand her, and quite possibly what they might be up against. "Alright. What was the last thing I said?" Y/N asked nervously. She knew it was best to start at the beginning but Y/N couldn't quite remember what point she had left on. "You told us your childhood, up until the point you were handed over to Ateez," Jeongin explained as he shuffled on the cushion, trying his best to get comfortable as he knew what was coming. "Ah. Alright. The head alpha of my pack, Jackson, my father. He handed me over to Hongjoon. Now Hongjoong's pack was a well-known respected alpha in our area and our alpha often worked closely with them along with other packs, but Jackson chose Hongjoong. Why? Because he knew Hongjoong worked with dark aura and knew a possible witch who meddled with dark magic. Of course, you knew the rumours as much as we did. Hongjoong had lots of rumours about him. What I didn't know at the time but learned later was that Hongjoong helped Jackson create an Apex. It may have been the reason both the mother and the apex died, but that's a different story or conspiracy.

Hongjoong, let's say, was very different at the beginning. When I met Hongjoong I was worried, but I was worried about being around any alpha. He knew that. He obviously knew the rumours but he wanted to prove them wrong at the beginning. Hongjoong and Seonghwa were the first two I met at the beginning. They were sweet. Very kind, actually. Hongjoong wanted to court me at the beginning. He took me on dates, and bought my flowers the usual things a head alpha would do when there courting. Seonghwa sometimes came with him, but he was a little bit more reserved. Sometimes he would ask invasive questions about my pack, my politics, my virtue, but I never questioned it. Fast forward two years I moved in with them, now bare in mind I had no idea what Hongjoong's expectations were.

Now, the first half was fine. Hongjoong was very sweet. He waited a long time before ever claiming me, 6 months actually. Hongjoong always had me involved with everything. If he went to work in the office I came with him. If he was at his computer I sat with him. When there were times he was busy I spent time with the other wolves like Seonghwa, San, Wooyoung. I never really did the things I was trained for as an omega, it was rather the opposite, but I never questioned it. They liked to mollycoddle me, I thought it was cute at the beginning.

Seonghwa. Seonghwa would do things for me, just general things like cooking for me, getting things for me, and babying me, to the point it got restrictive. I didn't notice of course. The way he would pet my hair, tell me I never needed to worry. They all did that to an extent. Sometimes if I got things wrong they would humiliate me in front of the others. Sometimes they laughed at me. Do you know how they humiliated me? They would strip me down naked for days, sometimes they didn't care if another wolf from another pack saw. They would even fuck me in front of each other and make remarks about me. It got worse to the point I stopped doing things completely. Hongjoong said I didn't need to do things just accept I was being loved, but that meant doing nothing. It meant being carried around by Seonghwa and Hongjoong all the time, to the point they bathed me, clothed me, and fed me. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't object. If I did Hongjoong would take me down into the basement where he punished the other wolves for disobedience. Some punishments were isolation. Sitting in the dark, listening to a beta being tortured. Sometimes he would cuff me with bolt cuffs. Sometimes he would cuff me with werewolf traps and ask me to rip my hands out. Sometimes he would try to drown me, poison me, inject me with wolfsbane. That was his way of saying I disappointed him." Y/N stopped and looked at the paled wolves. None of them had spoken. They were stunned into silence. Jisung and Jeongin looked close to being sick. Changbin and Felix were on the verge of tears. The others either held a frown on their face or were completely blank. "Still with me, yeah?" Y/N spoke nervously, waiting for a sign of approval to continue to speak.

"So. To the next part. The ritual. Hongjoong obviously wanted an apex there is no doubt about it. He had been trying to perfect the art of consummation. He practised on lone omegas. Took them in, had sex with them, and presented them to the dark ancestors. When it didn't work he killed them. He had to make sure it was one hundred per cent possible before putting me through it, even if it meant I died. During that night he half drugged me, but not enough to put me to sleep, but enough to keep me with it. Hongjoong was crafting with witches using necromancy to provide an apex. As I didn't have heats because of stress Hongjoong had to force one so my body would accept it. That night I found paperwork's, books of different rituals all over his desk. He was going to lay me in front of a coven of witches and fuck me with my throat slit with another alpha. A strong alpha. The problem was we lost our strongest alpha at the time because I set him free. So on the night before, I took a metal pole and whacked it around the back of his head and left. Alright, it took me longer to get out because Wooyoung heard the commotion but Yeosang managed to get me across the clearing line and told me to keep heading north. The end."

The wolves stared blankly at her, taking in every word she said. They all had questions, lots of them. Some they didn't want answered. None of them could believe what they had heard. They felt sick. "Question?" Seungmin asked as he looked between his omega and Hyunjin, "who was the wolf you set free?" "I don't remember. Seonghwa had brainwashed me into forgetting. The only thing I do remember is we were ambushed by two separate werewolf packs and one had an interest in that alpha. All I know is he was my favourite alpha and I set him free during the fight, but Seonghwa said I imagined it and that it was actually Wooyoung." Y/N answered causing Hyunjin to laugh. "It wasn't Wooyoung you set free. It was me."

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@galaxy4489 @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @leezanetheofficial @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @linocz @itzreetal987 @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @liv1sworld @upsidedownchaire @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @ihttinniee @kingdomofpentagon @pixie0627

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samanthacastano02 · 25 days ago

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He Calls you Clingy - Seo Changbin

Changbin x FemReader

Trigger Warnings: Cussing, hospitalization, weightlifting injury, appearance of San and Wooyoung from Ateez (Not really a trigger warning), groveling, sickening fluff from Changbin,

Word Count: 7.1k

Summary: You and Changbin had been best friends but realized that there was something more between you. Years down the road you are now his fiancé and you want to treat him and the boys to a homemade meal, but Changbin is having an off day and he gets upset with you. He takes his anger and stress out on you, when you get upset you try to work out to feel better but end up injuring yourself. Changbin tries to make it up to you at first but you don't let him, it takes you over a month before you even think about forgiving him. In the end do you forgive him or will that be the end of your relationship?

Screenshots: 1

Photos aren't mine except for the screenshot, credit goes to the photographers

When I had first met Changbin, I never thought that he and I would be anything more than friends. We had met as kids, quickly becoming best friends, stuck to each other like glue. When he left to train as a trainee I was heartbroken but I knew that it was something that he always wanted and it was something that I would without a doubt support him in. The day he left, I was going to tell him how I felt but I knew that I couldn’t put him in that position. I couldn’t drop that on him right as he had to go and deal with something that would

be extremely stressful. So I waited, standing on the sidelines as his best friend, watching as he became closer with the other members of Stray Kids, as he dated when the dating ban was dropped and I didn’t let him see that each time he was with someone new it broke me. But it all hit a turning point when I had dealt with an abusive relationship and turned to him for help. I couldn’t keep my feelings to myself anymore and had finally told him how I felt. I didn’t know if he would feel the same or not but I couldn’t keep it to myself, I needed him to at least know. To my surprise he felt the same and that was why all of his relationships never ended up working out. That was three years ago and just over a year ago Changbin had asked me to marry him. I knew that I would do anything and everything to make sure that Changbin had everything that he could ever want in life and I knew that he would do the same for me.

Present:

With Changbin and I’s wedding coming up soon, both he and I were thankful that he had a break from tour for a few months before their second leg. I was thankful that for right now I didn’t have to continue to plan the wedding on my own, yes I did have the help of a wedding planner but it still wasn’t the same without Changbin there with me. I knew that he hated being away from me while I was doing this but he didn’t have a choice. We tried our best with the time differences and called when he could so that he could feel included in the planning. When they go to South America and North America, I plan to go with them since my job allows me to work remotely and for the most part the rest of the wedding planning can be done over the phone.

When I had told Changbin that I would be able to go with him, the look of pure excitement on his face was priceless. He had always said that whenever I was able to travel with him that it eased his stress levels and so the fact that I would be with him for close to three months while he was touring would be extremely helpful for his stress. I knew that even before I told Binnie that I needed to clear it with their managers and Chan, and thankfully as long as I stayed out of the way for the most part they were completely fine with me coming along. They even asked if I could take some behind the scene photos for them when possible since my job was a photographer.

Recently, while the guys had been getting ready to leave for the next leg of the tour Changbin had been more antsy and more short tempered. I tried to not hold it against him but sometimes it was hard, especially when all I wanted was his comfort but he just wanted to be left alone. I knew he was stressed, so I tried to pull back more and rely on him less for the comfort that I used to seek from him, just so that I wouldn’t stress him out more. I didn’t tell him that I was stressed about traveling with him now that news of our engagement was out. His fans had been somewhat supportive when they found out that we were dating but when they found out that we were going to get married their support switched and they began to send hate, claiming that I wasn’t enough for him and that I would never be enough for him. I knew that I wasn’t as talented as him, and that my career wasn’t as important as his but I tried my best to be what he needed and I wished that his fans could see that. Not that I would ever tell him this, but sometimes I wonder if marrying him is the right choice, sometimes I wonder if I should let him find someone that his fans would like better, someone that is better suited for him than I am.

Chan knows about the hate that I get and says that I should tell Changbin but I can’t find it in myself to add more stress into his life right now. I know at some point I need to tell him but right now is not that time. One thing that helps me feel closer to Binnie is working out with him, for me it’s not about staying in shape or gaining muscle, it’s about spending that quality time with him. But the last few times that Binnie and I have gone to work out, things have felt different. He has seemed to want to go off and do his own thing, not wanting to spend the time to make sure that my form is correct and that I won’t hurt myself. I try to not let it get to me but I am also scared that if I use the wrong form I’ll end up hurting myself and I’ve tried to tell Changbin about this but he tells me that I have nothing to worry about because even though he isn’t right next to me he is still keeping an eye on me. It should make me feel relieved but it doesn’t, I want it to go back to the way it used to be, where he would help me work out and then when my short work out was finished I would sit and watch him work out. Now it’s almost like we aren’t even actually working out together, we just show up to the gym together and leave together, otherwise everything else is done separately.

It had been a few days since Changbin and I had gone to the gym and I had barely seen him in passing due to them having a comeback coming up. I knew that they were busy but I also knew that he always made time for the gym. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask him if I could join him at the gym tomorrow, when he gets home tonight since I knew he would be there tomorrow anyways.

Later that Night:

I tried to stay up until Binnie got home but I ended up falling asleep on the couch before he got home. When I heard the front door close, I noticed that it was close to 2 in the morning. I knew that he said it would be late but I didn’t realize that it would be this late when he got home. I quickly jumped up, ready to greet him, excited to see him even if it was just for a little while but when I came face to face with him, the look on his face told me all that I needed to know. Whatever they were recording at the studio today must not have gone well because he looked tired and angry and when he saw that I was still awake his usual bright and happy demeanor was nowhere to be seen.

“What are you still doing up?” He asked, clearly annoyed that I was awake.

“I wanted to wait for you, I feel like I’ve barely seen you the last few days. I know you’ve been busy preparing for the upcoming comeback.” “Yeah, I have been busy. I can’t be at your every beck and call.” “I don’t expect you to be Binnie, I just wanted to stay up to spend a little time with you tonight while you got ready for bed.” “Well just go to bed, I still have more work that I need to get done.” “But it’s already so late. Shouldn’t you get some sleep?”

“Y/n. Stop. I don’t need you to worry about me, you are not my mother. I can worry about myself, and if you can’t back the fuck off then I will stay at the dorms until this comeback is over.” “I’m sorry.” I take a sharp inhale, not expecting him to get this angry at me, I know that I can’t ask now if he wants to go to the gym tomorrow.

I don’t give any other response other than I’m sorry, I slowly head up to our room. Trying my best to keep my breathing even and the tears at bay until I’m in our room but it doesn’t work very well and I have to pause in the hallway to catch my breath to prevent myself from breaking out into sobs. As soon as I get myself back under control I rush into our usually shared bedroom and climb into the cold bed, knowing that he more than likely won’t be coming to bed tonight, working on the comeback until he has to go back into the studio with Chan and Han. I try to take slow breaths but slowly they come out as sobs and soon I am crying myself to sleep, wondering if things will ever go back to normal.

The next Morning:

I want today to be a better day, maybe yesterday was just an off day for Binnie and he didn’t mean what he said. I know him and the rest of the guys have busy schedules but it wouldn’t hurt for me to bring in lunch for them and see Binnie for a little while. I quickly prepared everything for all of the boys before heading to the JYP building, excited to see Binnie and the rest of the guys. Thankfully the front desk ladies knew who I was and quickly let me in, wishing me a good day. It's nice to have such friendly people here.

When I get up to the floor where the boys are, I can hear them practicing hard for their main track. When I peek into the practice room I can see that they are all dancing hard and seem to have been dancing for the better part of the morning. It would be good for all of them to take a break and eat a decent meal. Felix is the first person to notice me looking into the room, he doesn’t say anything but his smile breaks out and soon the rest of the guys notice as well. When Changbin noticed me, I thought that maybe he would also be excited to see me but he barely looked my way.

“Y/nnie, what are you doing here?” Felix asks excitedly as soon as the song ends.

“I brought you all some lunch, I figured you all might enjoy a home cooked meal.” “That’s so sweet of you.” Han calls across the room, taking a break from drinking his water.

“I wanted to do something for you all, I know how hard all of you are working for this comeback.” “Y/n, it’s very sweet that you brought food. But are you planning on staying long, we have more work to do.” Changbin asks, sounding almost annoyed.

“I was going to stay to eat with you all, but if there’s too much that you all have to do. I can leave you to eat.”

“That would be better, and next time please text before you decide to just drop by.” “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that I was causing trouble.”

“Y/n, of course you aren’t causing any trouble. Bin, she can stay to eat, we can take a long enough break to eat and chat with her.” Channie butt’s in, trying to make the awkward conversation less awkward.

“No, no Channie, it’s ok.”

I don’t wait for a response from any of them, deciding that it would be better to save myself the embarrassment and just leave. It’s obvious that Changbin is still in his mood from last night and I don’t want to make it worse. I was so in my own head that I didn’t hear Changbin follow me out of the dance studio, it wasn’t until he grabbed my arm that I noticed he was there.

“Why did you come here without asking if it was ok first?”

“Binnie, I really didn’t think that it would be an issue. It wasn’t an issue in the past.” “Well it’s an issue now.” “Look, Binnie. I’m sorry that I showed up here without confirming first with you, that it was ok. I didn’t mean to upset you, that wasn’t my intention at all. Maybe after a gym session together, things will feel better, yea?” “Jesus y/n. First you waited for me last night, then you showed up at my job unannounced, and now you want to encroach on my gym time. Why can you not get the hint that I want my gym time back, there is a reason that I go off and do my own thing now. I understand that you told me you were clingy when we first started dating, and I know I said I liked that but Jesus this isn’t clingy, this is borderline obsessive.”

“I’m sorry Binnie, I’ll give you back your gym time. I didn’t realize that you didn’t want me there with you anymore.” “You are so clingy y/n that I don’t even know if I want this marriage with you anymore. I cannot handle this right now, until the comeback is finished and out, I’m staying at the dorm.”

Before I can even respond to him, he’s turned away from me and walking back into the practice room. I don’t know how long I stood there in shock before slowly making my way back to our shared apartment. I knew that they still had a few months left of preparing for the comeback, which meant that if Changbin was serious, he would be staying at the dorms for the next few months. In a fog I decided that I wanted to be helpful for him, and pack a few of the clothes that I thought he might want, saving him the trouble of having to do so himself.

When I finished packing those things for him, I texted Chan to let him know that the few bags were ready to be picked up whenever. I couldn’t stay in that apartment, the heartbreak of Changbin calling me clingy and telling me that he didn’t know whether or not he still wanted to marry me was eating me alive. I decided to do the one thing that allowed me to feel close to him, even when he wasn’t near.

I threw on my gym clothes and slowly made my way to the gym, it still felt like I was in a fog. The main thing that I worked on in the gym was my arms and my legs. Today I knew that I would get the most relief from my upper body, so I began to set up my weights to begin my upper body workout. I had my headphones in and wasn’t paying attention to who was around me, I wasn’t paying good attention to what weights I was grabbing. If I had paid attention I would have seen that the weights that I grabbed were too heavy for my ability. I grab the weights and begin to try and do presses, it’s a little harder than I remember but I ignore it and continue to press through. I get about halfway through my second set when I begin to really feel the burn of it. I know that I should stop and go down to a lower weight but I don’t want to think about anything and if I stop doing that I know that I will think about Changbin. If I stopped to change the weights, I’d see that a concerned San and Wooyoung, two of Changbins friends, were watching me struggle with the weight. I begin to press up again when I feel a sickening crack in my left bicep, I lose all control over my arm and drop the weight, an excruciating pain overtakes my body and I collapse.

San and Wooyoung rush over when they notice that I collapsed, I try to tell them that I’m fine and that they can go back to their workout but neither of them listen. San quickly clears the weights from around me while Wooyoung tries his best to make sure that I’m ok.

“Jesus y/n are you ok?” Wooyoung asks, trying his best to check me over and see what’s wrong.

“Why doesn’t he want me anymore?” I practically sob.

“What are you talking about y/n, who doesn’t want you?” San asks as he kneels next to Wooyoung.

“Changbin.” “What are you on about? Of course he wants you, he loves you.” Wooyoung tries to comfort me.

“I really don’t think that he does anymore. Not based on what he said today and how he acted today.” “Let's get you to the hospital, the pain is making you say untrue things. I know Changbin and he loves you.” San responds.

Before I can respond to either of them I pass out from the pain. The next time that I woke up, San was sitting next to me while the nurse was checking my vitals. By the looks of it, it was somewhat late because the sun had set. I didn’t know where Wooyoung went, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to face the fact that my relationship with Changbin was over. He no longer wanted to be with me, and I don’t think any amount of convincing will change his mind.

“I’m glad to see that you are awake.” San said as soon as he noticed that I was awake.

“What happened?”

“You passed out from the pain, you lifted too much weight and ended up breaking your arm. We tried to call Changbin but he didn’t answer so I stayed here with you while Wooyoung went to go get him and tell him what happened.” “You shouldn’t have done that. He’s preparing for a comeback, he doesn’t want to be disturbed. That’s the whole reason he’s staying at the dorms instead of at home with me.” “He’s been staying at the dorms?”

“He said he’s going to. This morning, or at least I think that it was this morning. What day is it?”

“It’s the same day.” “He told me this afternoon, when I dropped lunch off for them that I should have called and asked if it was ok. And I should have known that the gym was his time, and when he stopped helping me, that I should have realized that I wasn’t wanted there during his gym sessions anymore.” “I don’t think he meant it y/n.”

“San, he said that he didn’t know if he wanted to marry me anymore.” “Whoa.”

Wooyoung’s POV:

With San staying with y/n until she woke up, I knew that I had to rush to the JYP building to find Changbin to get him to the hospital. We tried to text and call him but he didn’t respond to either and I did try to call one of the other guys but they also didn’t answer. I was almost to their building when San texted me, letting me know that Changbin might not be too happy to be bothered right now, and he also told me about what he said to y/n. I know that I don’t know her very well, but she’s always been super sweet and super caring and has done absolutely nothing to warrant his harsh words.

Thankfully the front desk ladies let me in without much effort, just a quick hello and telling them that I was there to see Changbin and they were more than happy to let me through. I really wasn’t happy with what he had said to y/n, if you love your partner, you don’t say something like that to them. The first member that I saw of Stray Kids was Felix and Seungmin, both boys were surprised to see me.

“Wooyoung? What are you doing here?” Felix was the first to recover from the shock of seeing me in their building.

“I’m looking for Changbin, do you know where he is?”

“Umm, last I saw him he was in the recording studio with Han and Chan.” Seungmin answered.

“Perfect, would you mind showing me where that is?”

“Oh, uh yeah sure. Why are you looking for him though?” Felix asked, as we began to walk towards the recording studio.

“It’s about y/n.” “Is she ok?” Seungmin asked, from what I knew he was pretty close to her.

“She had an accident and is at the hospital. Don’t worry, I didn’t leave her there alone. San is with her.”

“What happened?” Both boys ask simultaneously.

“She tried to lift too heavy of a weight and ended up breaking her arm.” “What!?” Both boys seemed mortified.

“She’s ok, they did have to bring her into surgery to repair the break but she was out of surgery and stable when I left.” “Let's get you up to changbin. He’ll be worried about her, and the fact that he wasn’t there when he finds out about what happened.”

I don’t want them to think badly of their Hyung so I don’t mention the fact that he told her that he doesn’t want to go to the gym with her anymore and that he doesn’t know if he wants to marry her anymore. My whole goal here is to get Changbin to the hospital, not turn his members against him. But if he doesn’t get his shit together and realize that his words will actually push her away, he might actually lose her for good. I want them to both be happy, but I don’t want y/n to suffer because Changbin is being an idiot.

When we get to the studio that the three boys are working in, I can hear them laughing and I can clearly tell that they are completely unaware of what happened to y/n. Honestly that pisses me off because while she’s in the hospital thinking that Changbin doesn’t want her, he’s over here laughing and having a jolly good time with his friends.

“Thank you boys, I’ve got it from here.” “Are you sure?” Felix asks, seemingly unsure.

“Yea, don’t worry.” with that I turn away from the two younger boys and enter the recording studio without knocking.

“Wooyoung? What are you doing here?” Chan asks when he notices me standing by the door.

“I’m here for Changbin.” “Why are you here for me?” “Because, apparently you lack the ability to pay attention to your phone.”

“We’ve been working so I haven’t been looking at it. Why is something wrong?”

“Yeah, it’s y/n.” “Jesus, she dragged you into this whole thing now too?” “She didn’t do anything. She couldn’t.” “She couldn’t?” “You don’t even realize what you are doing, do you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Chan, Han, you might want to stand between us because he is pissing me off.” “What is going on, Wooyoung. Wooyoung can you please explain?” Chan asks as he steps in between Changbin and I.

“Y/n, believes that Changbin doesn’t want her anymore. Believes that he doesn’t want to marry her anymore.” “What, why on earth would she think that? Binnie absolutely adores her.”

“Why don’t you tell them what you told her Changbin.” I almost sneer at him, trying to contain my anger.

“What is he talking about?” Han asks.

“I-I.” “Go on, tell them. If you don’t, I will.” “I got upset with her, when she came to drop off lunch for us.”

“Got upset, how exactly?” Chan asks, trying to get more information.

“I said some things that I shouldn’t have.” “No. You need to clarify exactly what you said to her.”

“I-I called her clingy.” He looks down at the ground ashamed.

“What else?”

“I told her that she was borderline obsessive, and that she kept encroaching on my gym time. And even after she tried to apologize, I told her that I wasn’t sure if I still wanted to marry her.” “Jesus Christ Changbin, what the fuck.” Han looks at him mortified.

“Why the hell would you say that to her?” Chan asks, looking completely disappointed in him.

“That’s not all, I told her that until the comeback was done and out, I would be staying at the dorms.”

“That explains why I got a text from her telling me that you had a few bags that could be picked up.” Chan responded.

“You don’t deserve her Changbin, but I'm telling you this anyways. She was extremely distraught after what you said to her and decided to go to the gym by herself, where she proceeded to lift weights that were too heavy and she didn’t listen to her body. The weight snapped the bone in her arm, Changbin.” “What?”

“She’s in the hospital because she broke her arm.” “No. She knows to listen to her body's limits, she would know to not push it.” “No Changbin, she wouldn’t. Not when she’s distraught and heartbroken. Searching for any form of relief from the pain that you caused.”

“I-I didn’t mean to.” “Well you did. So you need to choose. Either you come to the hospital and try and salvage what’s left of your relationship or stay here. But I am going back to the hospital.” WIth that I turn to leave the room, I don’t wait to see whether or not he joins me.

Your POV:

San does his best to try and distract me from the fact that Changbin isn’t here. Part of me thought that maybe, just maybe he would be here after he heard about what happened but I knew that it was just wishful thinking. I wanted to tell San to go home but I knew that he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t want to leave me alone, when all I want right now is to be alone. I don’t know how long it’s been that San and I have been sitting in silence when we hear a knock on the door. San gets up to see who it was, I can hear whoever was at the door and San having a quiet conversation. San looks back at me, then back to the door before closing it quietly and walking over to the bed.

“Y/n, Wooyoung just told me that Changbin is here out in the hallway. He wants to see you.” “He’s here? Why is he here?” “Apparently Wooyoung somehow convinced him to come here.”

“That still doesn’t explain why he is here.” “He wants to talk to you.”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Y/n, you don’t have to talk to him.”

“I owe it to him to end things officially with me, I can’t just assume that he’s ending things.”

“You don’t know that he’s ending things.” “He doesn’t want to marry me anymore.”

San doesn’t know how to respond so instead he just turns to go and get Changbin. I try my best to prepare myself for what’s about to happen but I know that I will never be ready to no longer wake up to Changbin. To his goofy personality, to his random singing, so his warm hugs and late night cuddles.

“Y/n, thank god you’re ok.” Changbin said as soon as he saw me.

“Why are you here?”

“I came as soon as I heard about what happened. Why wouldn’t I be here, you’re my fiancé.” “Am I? Because after this afternoon, you made it pretty obvious where I stand with you.” “No, no. I was wrong and I didn’t mean it.”

“No Changbin, you did mean it. You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it.” “I was stressed and I took that stress out on you. I swear that I didn’t mean it y/n, of course I still want to marry you.” “Changbin, I don’t know. What you said really hurt.”

“I swear that I didn’t mean it.”

“Changbin, I can’t do this right now. I need time.”

“I can give you time, just please, I beg of you don’t end things. Let me prove to you that I’m sorry, whenever you are ready, let me prove to you that I am sorry.” “I don’t know yet, Changbin.”

Three Weeks Later:

For the last three weeks Changbin has been giving me the space that I’ve asked for, but I could still feel his presence. He would leave things for me at my front door, food and supplies that he thought that I might want or need. I wanted to tell him to stop but at the same time I really appreciated it, but I definitely wouldn’t tell him that. I didn’t want to give him any hint that I might forgive him, because he still hadn’t earned my forgiveness.

San and Wooyoung made it an everyday thing to come over and check on me, see if I needed anything or wanted anything. They also made sure to keep Changbin from bothering me too much, not anymore than he already was. I did really appreciate them coming over and helping me because it was super hard for me to cook, normally Changbin was the one who did the cooking and I washed the dishes but without him here I was left to try and cook for myself. It wasn’t easy to cook with only one arm, I knew that I should try and ask for more help but I also didn’t want to be a burden to more people. I decided to bite the bullet and ask someone I knew would jump at the first chance to help me right now.

The Next Day:

The next day in the middle of the afternoon I heard a knock on my door. I was hesitant to open it because I knew that it was Changbin and this would be the first time that I saw him since I was in the hospital. When I opened the door, he had multiple bags full of supplies to cook for me. He was trying his best to hide his smile when he saw me but he wasn’t doing a very good job at it, even though I didn’t want it to it made my own heart flutter.

“Y/n, how are you feeling? How’s your arm feeling?” Changbin asks, as I let him in.

“I’m feeling ok, my arm aches sometimes but it’s feeling ok most of the time.”

“Are you taking anything for the pain?”

“There isn’t much that I can take for the pain actually, but I do take some Tylenol to try and ease the pain a little.” “Does it help?”

“A little, but the doctors said that it would ache for a while.” “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. This never should have happened.” “There’s nothing that can be done about it now Changbin. All I can do now is deal with it.” “Still, I should have just been honest with you but instead I was an ass and I was petty and it resulted in you getting injured.” “Changbin, there were a lot of things that should have been done differently. But this wasn’t your fault, it was mine because I shouldn’t have gone to work out when I was upset. If I had waited, I would have known to listen to my body and knew that the weight was too much for me.”

“No! I should have never gotten mad at you for wanting to eat with us and I should want to work out with you because I always want to spend time with you. Being stressed from work is no excuse to treat you the way that I did, you never deserved that. And I will forever be sorry for that.”

“No, I should have known better to ask before just showing up and I should have known that the gym was your ‘you’ time.”

“You can come to the studio whenever you want y/n, come to the gym with me, spend time with me. Please, I beg you to cling to me. These last three weeks have felt like hell for me, I never want to go through this again. I hate that I treated you the way that I did, I love you more than anything and I can’t believe that I treated you that way.”

“Changbin, I-”

“No, I am so sorry.” Before I can even respond he’s hugging me. I don’t know what to say to him, so I just do my best to lightly hug him back.

Two weeks later:

I tried my best to continue to stay mad at Changbin but he continued to show me how sorry he was. No matter how much he continued to show that he was sorry, part of me was scared to let him back in because what if it happened again, what if he went back to how he was before? I don’t want to be treated that way again, but late at night part of me missed him so much. I missed how he would hold me close to him, I missed how he would laugh at my dumb jokes and make me feel like the most special girl in the world. I love him more than anything, but I’m scared that he’s only acting like this so that I’ll forgive him. Even though I’m scared, I want to trust him, I want to trust that he’s sincere and isn’t doing this just so that I’ll forgive him. I’m so in my head that I don’t hear the knocking on the door until there’s almost pounding, when I open the door, I see a panicked Changbin.

“Are you ok? You weren’t answering the door.” “I’m ok, I’ve just been out of it today.” “Is something wrong, do you want to talk about it?” “I guess I’m just scared.” “Scared about what?”

“That this is all fake, that it’ll all change if I do forgive you.”

“Oh y/n. I know that I wasn’t the partner that I should have been in the past, but I can promise you, if you do end up forgiving me I will do everything in my power to show you everyday how sorry I am and how much I love you. I regret it everyday how I treated you, I should have cherished you more, should have loved you more.”

“I- I don’t know what to say Changbin.” “You don’t need to say anything. I love you and I didn’t show you that properly.” “I’m scared. I’m so scared Changbin.” “I know baby, I know. But I promise, I will never, ever treat you that way again.” “Changbin.”

“Jagi, I promise on my life that I will never treat you like this again. I don’t want to lose you, I almost lost you from my stupidity.” He pulls me into him, holding me tightly but making sure to watch out for my arm.

“This is the only other chance that I will give you Changbin, don’t fuck up again.” “I swear on everything that I love, I will not fuck up again. I cannot live without you, it felt like life wasn’t worth living when I wasn’t with you.” He leans in to kiss me.

I know that things won’t be perfect between us, not for a long while but I know that slowly things will get better as long as we both work at it. We both made mistakes that caused us to have issues, not one person was solely at fault for this, we both were at fault. But we love each other enough to know that we want to make it work.

That night, as we both lay in bed I know that we are on the right track to our path of happiness. Changbin has his arm wrapped around me while my head is resting on his chest, making sure to not bother my arm. We talked about our days and what we wanted to do tomorrow since we both had the day off, a rare occurrence for Changbin. It felt nice to finally be back in his arms after over a month of barely seeing him and not getting to be in his arms.

Epilogue:

It’s been three months since I forgave Changbin, and he has made an effort everyday to show me that he is sorry and will never treat me that way again. Changbin let me know that he would be at the studio today and would be there for most of the day. I wanted to surprise him and the boys with a homemade lunch since I knew they all had a bad habit of forgetting to eat. Except for Changbin, that man loved to eat and would probably rather die before forgetting to eat.

I was scared to show up at the JYP building because the last time that I did, things didn’t go smoothly and I didn’t see Changbin for a month. I took a deep breath and packed up the meal that I prepared for the boys and myself, excited to see them and my fiancé. I wanted to let Changbin know that I would be coming but he had let me know that they wouldn’t be on his phone at all, so there was no point in letting him know.

When I showed up to the building, the front desk ladies immediately let me in and thankfully helped me with the elevator since my arms were full. I was thankful that I had my cast removed the month before, otherwise I would have really struggled with bringing them food. When I finally got up to the practice room, I could hear the boys practicing to one of their new songs, one that I hadn’t heard before. When I knocked on the door, it took a few seconds before I heard the music pause and then the door finally opened and I saw Chan standing there looking slightly confused. He opened the door wider for me, letting me in and when Changbin saw me, he rushed over taking the food out of my arms.

“Jagi, what are you doing here?” “I wanted to bring you all lunch, I thought you’d want homemade food.” “You made us lunch?” Minho asks, finally coming over.

“I did, I had the day off. So I cooked, and I wanted to see Binnie.” “Aww Jagi, did you miss me?” Changbin teases me.

“Of course I did.”

“Ew. Gross.” Hyunjin jokes.

“Oh grow up Hyune.” I tease him right back, Binnie watches me interact with all of the boys, with loving eyes.

“Jagi, let’s eat. I’m sure you’re hungry, I know that I am.” Binnie leads me over to the food.

“I am hungry, let’s eat before it gets even more cold.” The boys soon are digging into the food, before I can sit down on the couch Binnie is pulling me down onto his lap. I let out a squeak of surprise, not expecting him to do that. I don’t fight him on it, knowing that he will throw a small fit if I try to get up and sit next to him, and the rest of the boys don’t seem all that bothered by the fact of it. My earlier hesitation about coming is gone, replaced by an overwhelming feeling of love from both Changbin and the boys. I know that everything will be ok. I know that everything between Changbin and I will be ok, I know that he will never treat me the way that he did again. I have him and the boys, life will be happy and good, with the support of everyone. When lunch was over, I knew that the boys had to get back to work so I prepared to leave. I was prepared to walk out by myself but to my surprise Changbin was ready to walk me out.

“Don’t you need to get back to practice?”

“What kind of fiacné would I be if I didn’t walk you out?”

“I’ll be ok baby, you need to get back to practice.” “Nonsense.”

“Baby, I’m walking you out whether or not you want me to.” “Fine, I’m not taking the blame if you get in trouble though.” “I love you Jagi, I told you that this time will be different.” “I love you too baby.”

I love Changbin, I didn’t want him to get in trouble for walking me out of the building but it seemed like he was going to do it no matter what. He was right, things were different already, different than they were previously. There was a good difference and I was happy with the way that things had changed, both of us seemed happier than we were before, it seemed like this would be a happier marriage when the day finally came. We truly loved each other and would do whatever it took to make each other happy.

Taglist:

@vietjeb, @riri53

#stray kids imagines #seo changbin angst #seo changbin x reader #changbin x y/n #changbin x reader #seo changbin imagines #stray kids angst #stray kids oneshots #stray kids fluff

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seungfl0wer · 9 months ago

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*Bite Marks*

Pairing: Felix x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Biting, Creampie, Mentions of Knotting, Female Receiving, Scratching, Role play, Reader is a monster lover (cause same), there’s honestly not much plot. Not proofread

Kink(s): Role Play + Monster Fucker

Side note I hate the title wanted to make it something better but couldn’t think of anything :(

˚ ༘♡Master List (Here) for the 1K Event

-🩵

The man infront of you stood fully naked, making his way to you pushing your body against the bed somehow roughly but also gentle? The man’s eyes were a piercing red color, soft ears pointed straight up. He leaned his body down into you as he left sloppy kisses on your neck moving to your mouth. His tongue darted between your lips as he wrestled with your own tongue.

His hands wondered across your body sharp nails softly scratching you as he did. His throbbing cock pressed against your half clothed cunt, it felt so warm against you. The man above you started to rut his body into you as he deepened the make out session sucking harshly at your bottom lip. He placed wet kisses down your body getting to your pretty little panties, he almost ripped them off of you.

The animal like man dove his head quickly into your heat lapping up all the juices that were already spilling from you. He groaned at the taste his tongue burring deep into your cunt. You let out little whimpers body squirming under him at the hot feeling. He smirked against your pussy softly biting at your thigh as he looked up at you “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted” he said his voice low.

He found his way to your sensitive little nub as he sucked roughly. His fingers trailed your thighs digging his nails into you making you moan at the slight pain. He swiftly pushed a few fingers into your dripping cunt. Your walls instantly gripping around him trying to suck him in. You could see him through your hooded eyes humping into the bed as he licked a long strip from your needy whole to your aching clit.

The man below was becoming more and more feral by the second his movements becoming more animalistic. His mouth dripped with your juices the flood gates that is your high ready to break through the damn. “My sweet baby, let me taste all of you. Cum on my tongue” he groaned out. His fingers twirling inside you arching to hit your sweet spot. He was fucking you into a different dimension.

Your head spinning as you continued to let out those sweet noises, your high quickly flooding through. Your legs fold around his head making him let out a low moan against your core. Your hands reached for anything to grip pulling at the bed sheets. Your body shook as he lapped up all of your sweetness. Biting at your skin in contrast of the meek kisses that followed.

He made his way up to you those beautiful red orbs staring down at you. “Gonna take me all darling? Gonna let me pump you full of my knot?” He asks slapping his cock on your abused clit. You nod staring up at him eyes glossed over “please” you whimper.

He wastes no time pushing his thick cock into you. Your walls eagerly taking him all in letting out a strewn of sinful noises. He starts to move slow at first before bottoming out. His cock buried deep into your sloppy cunt. His head rolls back taking in all of the warmth that’s now hugging his cock so perfectly.

You let out a small whine needing him to move before you go crazy, he chuckles a bit at the sound. “Needy aren’t we?” He said smiling. He leaned his body down to kiss you as he started thrusting into you with brutal force. His cock hitting your g-spot with every thrust. His kisses were sloppy as he, and you both swallowed each other’s moans.

He pulled away slowly a string of saliva connecting you to still. He speedily attached his mouth to your neck. Sucking ravishingly on it leaving marks as he dug his sharp canines into you. “Gonna mark you- everyone will know you’re mine” he thrusted in harshly his speed picking up as he let his free hand play with your sensitive nub. “Mine” he kept repeating as he pounded mercilessly into you. His sharp teeth digging into your skin leaving visible bite marks along with the small purple sucker bite.

Your legs wrapped around him, letting out moans drool dripping down your face. “Fucking hell” he growled out his body starting to stutter as his high approached. “Ready for my knot baby? Gonna stay stuck all night till I’m ready to pump you full again?” His words slurred as he spoke. Your walls choking his cock as your high washed over you “Felix!” You almost all but screamed out as you felt the man thrust hard one more time feeling a pressure as he did.

“Ah- fuck- fuck” he moaned out pumping you full of all his cum. The hot liquid plastered your walls coating it nicely. “You- you took all of it so well” he said looking down at the soft red like flesh keeping you two stuck together.

As you both came down from your high Felix kissed you softly. “Lix” you said breathy he nods in response with a soft hmm. “That was the hottest roll play I’ve ever experienced” you said smiling up at him. Receiving a smile in return “definitely was” he said leaning down to kiss you again. “The red contacts were a nice touch” you giggled.

“Thanks I was hoping they weren’t gonna be too much.” He admitted. He moved his body a bit making you whimper at the feeling “ah lix” you said feeling the ‘knot’ still in you. “Oh shit right!” He said quickly deflating it. You looked down at him seeing the small thing deflating around his cock. “Where did you even find that type of thing?” You laughed a bit.

“I got my sources” he says making you both laugh now. “Is it the same place you got the ears from?” You ask looking up at them. He nods “yep and my tail- My tail! I forgot it!” He whines. Making you laugh as he pouts off to find it.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

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k4vehrtz · 1 year ago

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⸻ NOSTALGIA !

. ✦ . starring — dom!top! nanami k. + gojo s. / m! reader

warnings — nsfw content / unprotected sex / alcohol consumption / smoking / consent check-ins / established dom+sub dynamic / light bdsm / 3some / oral / deepthroating / cum swallowing / fingering / double penetration / creampie / brief nipple play / exhibition . ✦ . wc — 2.2k . ✦ . notes — bdsm tag -> nami + reader's dom/sub dynamic is very heavy. vv special thank you to felix for letting me use his thirst for this :) <3 not proof-read!

cherry sweetness — the sweet scent of creamy vanilla with hints of ginger, spice mulled wine and pear invades your nostrils as soon as you enter nanami’s office. “glendronach…original, at least twelve years old,” you murmur, brows pulled together to form a crease in the centre of your forehead as you glance at the inconspicuous bottle of liquor on the mahogany desk. “…‘nami,” and there’s that pout, expresso–scented lips jutting forward in discontent, “didn’t know we were entertaining guests today.”

there are three glasses on the desk — each squared and stubby and filled with a deep amber–red gold liquid. definitely glendronach, you think and nanami promptly confirms this. “perfect with a rich, dark chocolate — like the ones you’ve been eating all day,” he answers slowly, gently as he glances at you over his shoulder, utterly unperturbed. “i didn’t know either, but — you remember ‘toru, right sweet boy? he decided to…let’s say drop in.”

and you absentmindedly nod in response, leaning forward with your fingers curling around the edges of his desk. “no,” he all but rasps as he sits back down on the plush leather seat behind his desk, patting his thighs sluggishly. near–silent disapproval. “i need my boy with me right now; fully.”

to which your lower lip quivers in response as you drag your fuzzy sock–covered feet towards nanami, straddling his lap with ease. an apology is hot on your tongue, replacing the comforting remnants of the expresso–flavoured chocolates. but it never makes it past your lips; not when nanami’s cherry–sweet lips lock with yours. he’s at least sipped the whiskey, you think, you can taste it on him but when you reach back for a glass yourself, he pulls your hand away.

“not yet dollface,”

satoru. he’d let himself in again, now leaning against the door to nanami’s office. where nanami’s voice was slow, almost sensual, ‘toru was faster; saying as much (or as little) as he chose to in the minimum amount of time. but you don’t linger on it, nanami’s hooking his finger beneath your chin, turning your head so that you’re facing him again.

“think you’re up to taking the both of us today?” he asks, lifting a thick brow over the rounded rim of his glasses. and ‘toru — never one for silence — quickly adds: “just like the old times? i’m feeling nostalgic.” nanami, though, rolls his eyes at that, mouthing, ‘only if you want to’ before dragging his lips against yours again.

his lips are warm against yours and when your lips part after being prompted by a gentle nip his tongue slithers into your mouth. your teeth clash momentarily — and only momentarily — before he falls into a rhythm while satoru watches intently at the side. one moment you’re swapping saliva and the next he’s sucking on your abused lower lip before pulling away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“he needs an answer sweet face, a sober one.” satoru explains, rounding the desk to push the window behind the two of you open. and then goes on to fumble in his pocket before pulling out a cigarette and a lighter. he releases the flame, it’s bright, and he tilts the contraption toward the cigarette, igniting it and bringing it to his parted lips while quenching the initial flame.

your gaze flickers between the two men you’ve known since your college days. memories of heated bodies pressed against one another moving to the rhythm of whatever song glided around the room flooding your mind. and you swallow, adam’s apple bobbing in your throat, “…yeah, i’m feeling nostalgic too.”

rich, creamy silky–smooth and slightly nutty mixes with the bitter dark chocolate and expresso in your mouth. “black forest cake,” nanami muses against your lips, snaking his tongue inside your mouth once more. and satoru scoffs, blowing a cloud of smoke in your direction in the process, “black forest gâteau.”

and nanami, too caught up in tasting the whiskey and chocolate on your slick, kiss–swollen lips makes the conscious decision to not scold satoru for that. it peeves him though; that much is clear by the glare he retorts and satoru throws his hands up in surrender, cigarette dangling in between his lips.

then he kneels behind you, delicate fingers curling around the curve of your ass. “nanamin,” it sounds like a breathy whine but it’s the farthest thing from desperate, “d’you feel how wet he is?” and he stands up, startling blue eyes meeting yours, “…all this from a little kiss?”

mockery — his voice is thick with mockery and shrouded in the scent of nicotine. satoru’s mocking you in that same, banana milk flavoured sweet tone he uses. and your cock twitches — throbs in your boxers. angry tip smearing pre-cum on the cotton, forming the wet patch ‘toru had previously had his eyes on. it’s almost challenging — as if saying is this all it takes to reduce you to a puddle?

and you may be tipsy enough for your movements to reflect nanami’s acquired sluggishness but you’re not tipsy enough to be without shame. so, warmth rises to your cheeks and crosses the bridge of your nose at the implication. “no,” you drag the ‘n’ sound, your delivery strained and needy as you disentangle yourself from nanami who leans back, unfastening the buttons of his shirt before disregarding it on the floor.

“you know how he is,” nanami drawls in a low, matter–of–fact tone, swallowing another mouthful of whiskey. “eager and ready to please,” he continues, a heavy hand on your hips, guiding you to your knees to which you oblige.

satoru exhales at that, nodding in agreement as he disregards his cigarette in the ashtray on nanami’s desk before turning you to face him. and he stares down at you, a mixture of emotions hidden behind the blue of his irises. a groan slipping past his lips as he stretches his languid limbs before he speaks again, “nanamin is so old fashioned, don’t you think?” it’s a rhetorical question; he takes your chin in between his fingers, bobbing your head so that it appears as though you’re nodding along to what he’s saying.

he purses his lips and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t cross your mind to stand and take his lips into yours. you don’t though, it’s only a thought, nanami’s taught you better than that.

“but, then again, you’re just his softheaded boy, needin’ a big, strong man like nanamin to take control and fuck you into the mattress — or any surface, really, i’ve heard the stories.”

you swallow the lump in your throat (muddled words you don’t dare whisper), bringing your trembling hands towards the crotch of his skinny jeans. nanami kneels beside you, warm lips pressed to the shell of your ear, his breath pricking at the sensitive skin.

“slowly,” guidance, “just like i taught you,” whispered guidance.

just like he taught you, you slowly unzip satoru’s jeans, nails curling around the band of his boxers before you separate it from his skin and free his cock. and his cock is heavy in your hands, pulsating even. it’s standing at full mast, curving inwards slightly. where he’s lacking in girth (something nami has a lot of) he makes up in size and it’s almost intimidating.

“focus doll, you’re going to take all of me down yer’ pretty throat.” tooth achingly sweet voice — satoru again. and then there’s nanami’s firm warning, “a few strokes and then you can start taking him in your mouth, baby, don’t overwhelm yourself.”

drunk or otherwise inebriated, they still care for you in their own way. it makes butterflies flutter in your stomach, a warm feeling that pulsates throughout your body. and perhaps nanami’s current actions — he’s moved behind you, freeing your cock from its confines as he pulls your cheeks apart to toy with the bejewelled plug in your hole — contributes to that feeling.

the specifics don’t matter though. what does matter is the pleased groans that each stroke of satoru’s cock elicits. purposeful touches; alternating between the length of his cock and simply fondling with his balls. it’s enough to make him cum (which all three of you are aware of).

and after a few minutes — you don’t know how long it’s been, truthfully — his bright pink tip that’d been seeping pre-cum is spurting thick clumps of cum onto your hands and face. and when it does land on your face you gasp, breath catching in your throat. nanami had been timing it, you’re sure, because he cruelly pulls the plug out at the same time without warning. thus, resulting in the desperate, filthy noise that slides out of your kiss–swollen lips.

despite this, nanami clicks his tongue and shakes his head in that same near–silent disapproval. “what do good boys do?” and you answer immediately: “clean messes, not make them.” earning yourself a pleased hum from the elder man. his praise is almost like a drug in the way it gets you going.

with this new buzz, you slowly push your tongue out, licking any remnants of ‘toru’s cum before turning your attention back to his cock. slow licks at first — almost like a kitten, really. then you work your way up to taking the pink tip in your mouth, sucking on it, experimental licks now and then.

“good god,” satoru, who is by no means a religious man, grunts under his breath as he traces shapes on your hollowed cheeks. “you’re doing such a good job.”

more praise that makes you feel warmer inside. perhaps it’s a mixture of their affections and the whiskey that left you feeling as though you’re floating. you’re not sure but whatever it is, it’s encouragement enough to keep you going.

while you continue to take more of satoru’s cock into your mouth; your lips are practically stretched thin around him, nanami’s fixated on fingering you. it started with one thick digit grazing against your prostate with precision but soon turned into two and two then turned into three. and every so often you shiver — not from him fingering you but because he drips some of his drink over your hole. it’s so obscene…but every time it happens your gummy walls clench around nanami’s fingers in the way he likes. he really does know you best.

“i’m going to—” it’s a warning, but it comes out muffled and difficult to decipher.

“it’s hard to understand you when your mouth is filled with cock, baby.” nanami counters knowingly, a tinge of mockery to his otherwise coolness. and satoru laughs, shrugging his shoulders as if to say he doesn’t understand you either, before slowly pushing your face into his neatly trimmed pubes. it’s not every day he finds someone capable of taking all of him, and he will use it to his advantage.

so, you’re left like this; mewling around satoru’s cock as it hits the back of your throat, nanami’s fingers assaulting your prostate, and your own cock pulsating until finally, you succumb to the pleasure of it all. ropes of cum splattering between you and satoru while you gag around his cock until he orgasms for a second time, shooting his load down your throat.

it tastes something in between salty and sweet but you can’t quite explain it. all in all, it tastes good and you wouldn’t be opposed to more of it. but, as it turns out, they have other plans.

“colour?” satoru’s voice again, from above you, as he slides you off of his cock with a ‘pop’ sound. and as your chest heaves in an effort to catch your breath you respond, “green.” to which they both grunt in acknowledgement.

nanami — he’s got thicker, slightly calloused fingers — is the one to reposition you. bending you over the desk while satoru brings a half–empty glass of whiskey to your lips and you swallow the remnants of the liquor with ease. then he disappears behind you with ‘nami and you curl your fingers around the edge of the desk in anticipation.

which is, all things considered, short-lived. you can feel them, both of them, pressing the heads of their cocks to your hole. and your lips part, eyes flickering shut, as a string of moans slides off of your tongue when that tight ring of muscle is breached. it’s an immediate feeling of fullness — one you’ve only experienced with the two of them.

they don’t move immediately; giving everyone time to adjust and to savour the moment. the feeling of their cocks throbbing against each other as you clench around them is mind-numbing. no one’s speaking anymore, it’s only grunts and groans that border on being animalistic as each of you relieve the tension of your lives in your own way. it’s a mutually beneficial affair.

and when they do move, you’re choking on your moans. salty tears cascading down your heated cheeks at every creak of the table you’re lying on top of; hard pecs to cold wood. a squeal every time they decide to pinch or twist the sensitive bud. it’s nothing short of pornographic.

not grazing your prostate or touching it in one way or another is impossible like this. but somehow, they hold out, pivoting their hips against your ass until the only sound that echoes throughout the office is the slick clapping of their thighs against the fat of your ass as it ripples from the impact it creates. and then they’re cumming — hot semen pouring into your ass and being pushed impossibly further into you by way of their equally erratic thrusts. you’re seeing stars at this rate, and it’s only round one.

#x male reader smut #x bottom male reader #nanami x male reader #gojo x male reader #jjk smut #x sub male reader #nanami x you #gojo x you #jjk x male reader #jjk x you #nanami smut #gojo smut

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staybabblingbaby · 4 months ago

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Best Friend Protocol #17 (Bite part)

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: You're Felix's childhood friend, and you and he have been planning a visit to see him for his birthday for what feels like years now. Unfortunately, SKZ is a very busy group, and the week-long vacation you'd planned for doesn't seem possible. Until Felix decides to ask his bandmates a favor...

Word Count: N/A

Notes: This one is just a little bit of fluff and filler, Minho deserves to abuse his blackmail privileges. He gave her four days of peace, that's plenty lmao Also delving a bit more into the chaotic group chat vibe. And did I do an entire unseen conversation just to make it look like the boy's chat moved without Reader? Yes. Yes I did.

More ideas in this chapter from @thatgirlangelb's lovely mind <3 I adore u pookie <3<3<3 This is basically just a permanent credit atp, you're on for, like, the next 3 for 4 chapters too lmao

I almost forgot to write Channie's part lmao. It's ok, we rescued him from the void <3

Warnings: She/Her Reader

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks! Additional Note: I'm always taking interaction requests. Just fyi

Masterlist | Prev Part | Next Part

Worm List <3 :

@thatgirlangelb , @hyeon-yi , @velvetmoonlght , @missvanjiii , @hanniemylovelyquokka , @vegetablesarefuntables , @scribblesnsketches05 , @kkamismom12 , @alexateurmom , @baribaaari , @tayla2351 , @heart-trees , @unicornwhisperer666 , @aalexyuuuhm , @stilldontknowhoiam , @brbwritingfanfic , @kaciebello , @ririzisblu , @mafiulaputaama , @kymimi , @chancloud8

Perma Tag List <3 : @mbioooo0000

#stray kids fanfic #skz x reader #skz fic #skz fanfic #stray kids x reader #fake texts #Stray Kids Fic #SMAU #skz smau #stray kids fake texts #stray kids smau #skz fake texts #baby writes #BFPSMAU #w.i.p #w.i.p fic

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whatispersonalspacejyp · 4 months ago

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My Toy

Genre: Filthy smut... oh and a bit of fluff at the end

Pairing: Lee Felix x female reader

Word count: 830

Summary: Your cat hybrid and boyfriend is in heat, you help him out.

Warning: degradation, breeding kink, humiliation, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple rounds, hair pulling, voyeurism

Original Date: 24 April 2020

Requested: yes

You woke up by a sleeping Felix who was humping you in his sleep. You turned away from Felix so he would stop. But he was quickly next to you again so you got out of bed and got ready to start the day.

"Today's cleaning the living room. Let's go!"

Felix woke up minutes later, feeling disorientated. "Shit." He mumbles as he noticed his bulge. "Now she's gone too." He quickly stood up and walked to the bathroom to get rid of his morning wood.

After he was done with that he searched for you.

You plopped down on the couch after cleaning the living room and let out a breath. Felix crawled on top of you and started grinding on you. You couldn’t help but moan to this touch. “You like this don’t you? Being my submissive little breeding toy.” Felix whispered in your ear with his voice even lower than before. You let out a moan as an answer, which satisfied Felix.

Felix grabs your pants and panties and swiftly pulls them off in one move. Felix also removed his pants and boxers and lined his cock with your entrance, before entering you until he was fully inside. He didn’t wait for you to adjust to his size as he slams back into you. “You’re so tight, that all for me. You would look so great, caring for my kittens.” Felix moved your shirt up a bit and stroke your belly, feeling a little bump as he was fully inside.

You were screaming in pleasure, your whole mind was foggy as Felix used you. You threw you head back, giving Felix access to your neck. Where he left licks and hickeys. At this point you were close. “Lix... Lix I’m...” You couldn’t make out the words as Felix slams within a faster pace into you. “Oh god.” you felt the knot in your stomach release and you came all over his dick.

You tried to squirm away from Felix, but he didn’t like this one way. Felix pulled out and turned you around so you were on all four, then he slams back into you. Felix grabs your hair and jerks your head backward. “Such a perfect toy, all for me.” You couldn’t help but whine at his words as he continued to abuse your hole. “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum.” One of Felix's hands went under your shirt to play with your nipples. You felt another knot forming in your stomach, which made you whine more. Felix noticed this and moved his hand to your clit and rub it. This made you cry out of pleasure, Felix moved his other hand from your hips to your head and pushed it on the couch. “If someone looks through the window they see me using you as a cum slut, you surely like that I can feel it. You tighten around my cock as I said those words. Is that what you like, people looking at you as I use you?”

You screamed out a yes as you came again. Felix’s trusts became sloppy at this moment he cums in you. He leans down on your body and kisses you shoulder blades. “Good girl, take all my cum.” Felix’s hands were on your hips to keep them still. You wimped at the sensation of him filling you up with his cum.

After a minute or two Felix pulled out and his cum drips from your hole. Felix finally let your whole body collapse on the couch. Felix looks at you fondly and stood up to fill a bath. “Y/n come on.” He pulls you up and to the bathroom, where he throws your shirt in the laundry basket and then lifts you into the bath before joining himself.

Felix was now cleaning your body, mixing it with a massage. “I’m sorry if I was to rough. I should have told you I was in heat” You showed Felix a tired smile. “It’s okay Lix, I liked it.” Felix kissed the back of your head and got out after he was done. Felix wraps a towel around his waist and holds a big fluffy one open for you. You decided that it was time to get out since the water was getting cold.

With wobbly legs, you stepped out and walked into Felix’ arms, who wraps the towel around you. You leaned against Felix since you were very tired. So Felix decided that just one this one possible at this moment. He lifts you up bridal style and grabs you some underwear for the both of you. He puts his boxers on and then put some panties on, on you and a shirt that belonged to him.

Then Felix snuggled up to you and hold you close to him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too Felix.” You said as your eyes dropped and fell into a deep slumber again your warm boyfriend.

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patrixjia · 3 months ago

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One Night in the District

Plot Overview: After a sold-out concert in Amsterdam, Bang Chan and the rest of Stray Kids are ready to explore the city like tourists. Stumbling into the Red Light District, Chan finds himself drawn into a world he never expected to be part of. There, he meets you—a stunning woman who works behind one of the famous windows. What begins as a playful encounter turns into something far more intense and unforgettable. In a city where nothing feels permanent, both are swept up in a night that will change them, even if only for a fleeting moment. But reality waits, and as the morning light breaks, so does the connection they shared.

Warnings: Mature content (explicit scenes, sexual content), Adult themes (mentions of prostitution, power dynamics), Strong language, One night stand/Temporary connection, Potential triggers: abuse of power, objectification (depending on the interpretation of the story)

Author note:

Hey everyone! So, here’s the thing… I’m going to Amsterdam this summer for Stray Kids’ dominate tour (yes, I’m already counting down the days 😱), and while I’m super excited for the concert, I couldn’t help but get a little inspired by the fact that… the Red Light District is just there 😂 Like, how could you not get inspired by the vibe of the city, right?

This fic kinda wrote itself, so here we are—Chan, a beautiful city, and a very intriguing setting. It was a lot of fun to write, and I really hope you enjoy this little adventure. As always, let me know what you think! I can’t wait to hear your thoughts (and yes, I’m already mentally planning my trip to Amsterdam… 🤩).

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The concert had just wrapped up, the final notes of the last song lingering in the air long after the last echo had faded. The crowd was still buzzing, but for the boys, the energy had shifted. They were no longer the performers, the idols on stage—they were just a group of friends walking through the streets of Amsterdam, taking in the cool night air.

“You should’ve seen your face when the crowd went wild for ‘God’s Menu,’” Seungmin teased, elbowing Chan in the ribs with a smirk.

Chan rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at his lips. “I know exactly how they react. It’s not a surprise anymore,” he shot back, though there was a hint of a chuckle in his voice.

Felix, walking beside them, raised an eyebrow. “Please, you were about to tear up. Don’t even try to hide it.”

“I was not!” Chan shot back, laughing, though there was no denying the emotion in his voice. “It’s just… it’s a lot. Every time. Especially here, in Amsterdam. You never get used to it.”

The group continued down the street, the energy between them light and carefree. Laughter and casual banter filled the air as they walked through the winding roads, taking in the sights of the city.

The further they went, though, the more the mood began to shift. The streets grew quieter, less crowded, and the neon glow of the city gave way to the dim, atmospheric lighting of the Red Light District. As they walked, the conversation started to quiet down. The boys’ attention was drawn toward the flashing red lights and the strangely alluring energy of the area.

“Do you think we should check this out?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes glinting with curiosity as he glanced at the others. “I mean, we’re in Amsterdam, right? It’s part of the experience.”

Jisung chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re not really suggesting we walk through there, are you?”

“I mean… why not?” Felix grinned. “It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong. It’s just a part of the city, a part of the culture.”

The guys exchanged amused glances, the curiosity written all over their faces. They had all heard of the district, of course. Everyone had. But being here, in the heart of it all, felt different. It was… intriguing.

Chan glanced over at the others, the corners of his mouth lifting into a playful grin. “Alright, alright, we’ll take a walk. But stick together, alright?”

“Yeah, don’t get distracted by anything,”Seungmin joked, nudging Chan with his elbow. “We don’t need any… souvenirs from this place.”

They all laughed, but there was a tinge of excitement in the air as they walked deeper into the district. The neon lights seemed to get brighter the further they went, casting strange, alluring shadows on the cobblestone streets. The mix of tourists and locals filled the atmosphere, and with every step, the boys couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder at the unfamiliarity of it all.

As they wandered deeper into the district, the neon lights painted the streets in shades of red and purple. The boys’ footsteps echoed softly against the cobblestones, their laughter muffled by the strange, almost hypnotic hum of the area. It was a world of its own—alive, electric, yet unsettlingly calm all at once.

They passed by various windows, each one filled with an atmosphere of seduction, mystery, and intrigue. Some women sat in quiet repose, some smiled and waved to passing tourists, while others kept their gaze steady and unreadable. But then he saw you.

Your presence caught Chan off guard. You were sitting in the window, backlit by the soft red glow of the neon lights, an effortless beauty that contrasted sharply with the chaos of the district. You seemed completely at ease, almost detached, like you were in your own world while the outside buzzed around you. The way you looked out at the passing crowd, calm and confident, was different from the others. You didn’t look like someone simply waiting for attention—you looked like someone who was in control of everything around her.

And then your eyes met his.

For a split second, everything else in the world vanished. The laughter of his friends, the distant sound of the city—it all faded into the background. It was just you and him, connected by that fleeting moment of eye contact. His heart beat a little faster, a strange pull settling deep in his chest. He wasn’t sure what it was about you, but there was something undeniable there.

Seungmin’s voice broke through his trance, pulling him back into reality. “Chan, you alright?”

Felix followed Chan’s gaze, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Oh, someone’s got their eye on someone.”

Chan blinked, quickly shaking off the effect you’d had on him. “I’m fine, just… looking around.”

But his gaze remained fixed on you, and even though the others were talking and laughing, the moment between the two of you hung in the air, unspoken. It was clear that something had shifted. He couldn’t look away, not this time.

“She looks… different,” Jisung murmured, watching you through the glass.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin agreed, his voice low with curiosity. “She’s got this vibe about her.”

Chan barely heard them, his thoughts tangled in that brief connection he’d felt. There was something about the way you carried yourself, something that intrigued him, something that called to him. It was like the district had faded around you, leaving only the pull of your presence.

Without thinking, Chan stepped closer to the window, his eyes locked on yours. The others followed, though they were starting to get the feeling that this moment was something more than just another curiosity. Chan’s attention had shifted—entirely.

“I think I’ll stay for a bit,” Chan said quietly, his voice almost uncertain, as though he was trying to justify the decision.

Seungmin, with a playful grin, teased, “You’re seriously doing this, aren’t you?”

But Chan didn’t reply. His eyes were still on you as he made his way toward the door, his friends exchanging looks but ultimately following his lead. He wasn’t sure what exactly had drawn him to you, but he felt something… something worth exploring.

He stepped inside.

He stepped closer, his heart thudding in his chest, each footstep feeling heavier than the last. The closer he got, the more he felt that pull toward you. The moment wasn’t just a chance encounter—it was like something had been set into motion, a magnetic force drawing him in. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.

You were sitting there, as calm and collected as the rest of the world spun around you. The red neon light painted your skin in soft, seductive hues, but it was the way you held yourself that caught his attention. You weren’t like the others—those who lingered, waiting for a customer or a passerby. No, you seemed to be in your own world. Detached, but not in a cold way. You had an effortless beauty that didn’t need to demand attention; it just existed, glowing under the dim lighting.

Your eyes—those dark, captivating eyes—were locked onto his, and for a moment, it was as if no one else existed in the room. The tension between you was thick, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was charged, like something was brewing beneath the surface, something neither of you had fully acknowledged. His breath hitched slightly, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

You noticed him. He could see it in the way your lips curved up ever so slightly—almost like you were amused by the attention, but also intrigued. There was something about you, something that made him feel like he had to get closer, like he couldn’t leave without knowing who you were.

As he stood at the door, watching you, he felt like an intruder in this intimate space. He hadn’t expected to feel this drawn to someone here—not in this place, not tonight. But there was no denying it.

You leaned forward slightly, your eyes still on his, an unspoken invitation hanging between you.

“Come in,” you said, your voice soft, but there was a sharpness to it that made it impossible for him to misunderstand. You knew what this moment was, what this space was, and yet you didn’t hesitate. You were in control of everything, every glance, every word.

Chan hesitated, but only for a beat. He stepped inside.

The door clicked shut behind him, the noise punctuating the silence between you. The room was dim, lit only by the red glow of the streetlights outside, casting an almost surreal light across your face. You were seated on a small chair, legs crossed, your posture relaxed yet commanding. There was a sense of freedom about you, a confident energy that made him feel both out of place and inexplicably at ease.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension was thick, almost suffocating, but neither of you seemed in a rush to break it. It wasn’t awkward, though. It was more like two people, both aware of the gravity of the situation, taking the time to feel it out.

Finally, you broke the silence, your voice smooth like velvet. “You came in,” you said, the corner of your lips curling up in a playful smirk. “Most people just walk by.”

He swallowed hard, the weight of your gaze suddenly making everything feel very real. “I guess I’m not like most people,” he replied, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them. There was a quiet confidence in his voice, but the way his heart was racing betrayed him.

You chuckled softly, the sound low and teasing. “Clearly.”

You studied him for a moment, as if weighing him—his intentions, his hesitations, the part of him that still seemed like he wasn’t sure if this was really happening. But you didn’t judge. You simply observed, your eyes never leaving his.

“Are you always this curious?” you asked, your tone playful, but there was something beneath it, a challenge laced in the words.

He tilted his head, meeting your gaze directly. “Maybe I am,” he answered, his voice low, just above a whisper. There was no pretense, no bravado, just… honesty.

The silence hung for another beat, and then, without warning, you stood up from the chair. The movement was fluid, confident, and when you took a step toward him, the room seemed to shrink around them. The air felt charged, the anticipation nearly palpable.

“Stay,” you said simply. It wasn’t a request; it was a command.

Chan didn’t hesitate this time. He knew exactly what you were offering, and for the first time in a while, he didn’t overthink it. He stepped closer.

And just like that, the tension between you snapped.

You didn’t move at first, just standing there, sizing him up, your gaze steady as you watched him. There was something different about him—something beyond just the casual curiosity he had shown when he first walked in. His body language was more assured now, every step he took further into the room radiating confidence.

Chan took a slow breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “So,” he began, his voice smooth, confident, as though he was already in control of this moment, “you’ve got your price, right?” He tilted his head, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he inched closer. “Tell me your price, and you’ve got it, babygirl.”

Your eyes flickered briefly at his words, something sparking behind your calm, collected exterior. The challenge was clear, but there was no hesitation from him, no second-guessing. It was just… his truth. He wasn’t guessing about the game here—he knew exactly how it worked.

You stood your ground, your lips curling up slightly as you took a step toward him, closing the space between you two. “You think it’s that simple?” Your voice was playful, but there was an edge to it that caught his attention.

Chan’s smirk deepened. “It is when you’ve got the cash to back it up.” He leaned in just enough to lower his voice, the words slow and deliberate. “I’m not here to play games, sweetheart. Just tell me what it costs, and it’s yours. I’m not the one who’s going to hesitate.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, but not backing down. “You think you’re the one in control here?” you asked, your tone almost challenging.

Chan chuckled softly, the sound rich and confident. “I’ve always been in control,” he replied, taking another step toward you, his presence becoming more imposing, more sure. “You just haven’t realized it yet.”

You didn’t break eye contact as he closed the distance between you two, your breath catching in the still air of the room. The tension was thick—charged, yet not suffocating. He wasn’t forcing anything. He was simply letting the moment unfold.

“You know,” Chan murmured, his voice dropping an octave, “I could make you an offer you can’t refuse. All you need to do is say the number.”

There was no hesitation from him now, no questioning of what he was asking for. This wasn’t about fancy talk or unnecessary games. This was about getting what he wanted—and knowing you would want it too.

You stood still for a moment, the room seeming to shrink with the weight of the silence. His words hung in the air between you both, and for the first time since he entered, you weren’t sure whether you should respond with the usual cold distance or lean into the challenge he was offering.

But as you finally met his gaze again, you couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at the corner of your lips. He had his confidence, but you weren’t about to make it easy for him. “Tell me, Chan,” you said softly, “what makes you think you’re in a position to dictate the terms?”

Chan let out a soft laugh, the sound almost disarming. He took another step forward, close enough now to feel the heat radiating off you. “Because, babygirl,” he whispered, “I already know you’re not the type to let a good opportunity slip by.”

You looked at him, the challenge still present in your eyes, but now… something else was there too. That flicker of curiosity. He was right. You weren’t the type to let a good opportunity slip.

And now, it seemed like that opportunity was standing right in front of you.

You paused, the playful glint in your eyes lingering as you took in his words. There was something about him—the way he carried himself, how unflinchingly confident he was—that made it hard to ignore. Normally, you’d keep your walls high, impenetrable, but something in him was… different. He wasn’t like the usual customers that came through. He was here because he wanted to be, and he was showing it in every word, every movement.

“I don’t just hand out what you want, Chan,” you said, your voice still laced with that confident edge. “You’ve got to earn it.”

Chan’s smile only widened at your response, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, I’m not asking for anything yet,” he said, his tone light, but there was an undeniable undertone of sincerity. “But if you think you can keep playing this game, I’ll play along. I’ll earn it however you want.”

The air between you both shifted again, and this time, there was less tension and more… anticipation. You could feel it building, could almost taste it as the space around you both seemed to pulse with unspoken understanding.

Without waiting for a response, Chan took another step forward, closing the last bit of distance between you. He didn’t hesitate. His hand gently cupped your chin, his thumb brushing along your jawline in a way that was both soft and commanding at the same time. The touch was electric, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You don’t have to be so tough, you know,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “You can let go, just for tonight.”

His words were almost a plea, but there was a quiet confidence in the way he said them. He wasn’t asking you to give up control; he was offering you a chance to let go of the defenses that you’d built up. For a moment, you wondered if you could. If you wanted to.

You tilted your head slightly, eyes narrowing in a teasing way. “You really think I’m that easy to break, Chan?”

His hand slid down from your chin to your neck, the touch barely there, but enough to send another pulse of heat through you. “Not easy,” he said, his lips curling into a grin. “Just… willing. All I need is for you to show me what you’re really after.”

His thumb brushed over your pulse point, his gaze dipping down to watch the way your body responded, how your breath quickened, just barely. The vulnerability in the way you reacted—despite how controlled you tried to be—was too tempting for him to ignore.

“Just say the word, and I’m yours,” he added softly, his lips nearly grazing your ear, his voice a whisper of heat against your skin. The promise in his words wasn’t an empty one—it was a truth, wrapped in teasing confidence, a guarantee that he’d give you exactly what you wanted.

Your breath caught in your throat, the subtle, almost imperceptible shift in your stance not lost on him. The power dynamic was clear, but it was shifting with every passing moment. And now, you were starting to see it, starting to feel it. He wasn’t just here for a transaction. He was here because he wanted you.

With a smirk, you tilted your head, meeting his gaze once more. “You really think you’ve got me figured out, don’t you?”

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he spoke, his voice practically dripping with confidence. “I don’t need to figure you out, babygirl. I just need to know that when the moment comes, you’ll be ready to let go.”

You stayed still for a moment, feeling the weight of his words sink in, his fingers tracing soft patterns along your neck. Then, finally, you nodded, just the slightest movement, but it was enough for him to catch it.

“Tell me your price,” he repeated, this time more softly, but with a certainty that made it clear this wasn’t a request. He wasn’t just here for the surface; he was ready to take this to a deeper level, to see just how far this night would go.

You looked at him, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts, but something about the way he held himself—so sure, so commanding—made it impossible to resist.

“Two thousand,” you said quietly, your voice steady despite the way your heart was beating in your chest.

Chan smiled, the most genuine expression you’d seen from him all night. “Done,” he said, voice low but with a finality that sent a shiver of excitement through you.

And just like that, it was no longer about the game, the teasing, or the power struggle. It was about something else now. The unspoken agreement. The night ahead.

As soon as the words left your mouth, a sense of finality settled between you both. It was a transaction now—no more teasing, no more games. But in the way Chan’s eyes glinted, in the way his lips curled, you knew there was more to it than that. This wasn’t just business. There was something else, something more primal, that neither of you could ignore.

Chan reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out his wallet with a fluid motion, the sound of the leather snapping open echoing in the otherwise silent room. His eyes never left yours as he removed the cash, crisp bills that seemed almost too clean for the dimly lit space. He placed them on the small table next to the bed, the gesture smooth and deliberate, as though marking the start of something much bigger than either of you had anticipated.

But he didn’t move back. He didn’t step away.

Instead, he closed the distance again, his hand sliding down your arm, warm and steady. The touch sent a shiver through you, the kind that went deep—straight to your core. His fingers lingered on the skin of your wrist, his thumb tracing over the delicate bone before he slid his hand up to your shoulder, then the back of your neck. The way his touch felt like it could burn you or melt you, depending on how you responded, only made you crave more.

“You’re still holding back,” Chan murmured, his voice low and seductive. “I can see it in your eyes.”

You tilted your chin up, meeting his gaze with a challenge, your voice steady but laced with the same undercurrent of desire. “Maybe I like holding back,” you said, a smile curling at the corner of your lips. “Maybe that’s the fun of it.”

He leaned in, his lips almost brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Then I’ll just have to make sure you can’t.”

There was a moment of tension as you felt him pull back just enough to see your face, his fingers still lightly grazing the nape of your neck. His eyes were dark with intent, but there was a flicker of something else too—something that mirrored what you felt, something you both recognized without needing words.

He took a slow breath, then his hand slid lower, pressing against your back and guiding you closer until your body was flush against his. The heat between you both intensified, your chest rising and falling with every breath you took. His touch was no longer tentative, no longer uncertain. Chan was fully in control now, and you could feel every inch of his confidence radiating off of him.

His lips finally found yours in a kiss that was slow, almost teasing at first. His mouth moved against yours with careful precision, as though he was savoring the taste of you, committing every sensation to memory. The kiss deepened, and you couldn’t help but respond, your hands finding their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, demanding more. He groaned against your lips, a low sound that made your pulse race.

“You want me to break you down, don’t you?” Chan murmured between kisses, his words soft but laced with an undeniable confidence. “You want me to make you forget where you are, forget everything but me.”

You met his words with a smirk, breathless but unyielding. “You think you can?”

“Oh, I can,” he replied, his voice low and sure. “I’ll make you beg for it.”

And with that, something inside you snapped.

The playful game was over. There was no more teasing, no more holding back. In that instant, you realized you did want him. You wanted him to break down every last wall, to make you forget, to take you to the edge and beyond.

Chan’s hands roamed to your waist, tugging you toward him, his body pressing into yours. He was relentless now, pushing you to the point of surrender, taking full control. The way his hands felt on your skin, the way his mouth moved with increasing urgency—it was everything you had secretly been craving.

He pulled back for just a moment, his hands now firmly gripping your hips, holding you in place. “Say you want this,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “Say you want me to take you how I want.”

Your breath caught, the power in his words making something inside you stir. You met his gaze, your voice steady but with a raw edge. “I want you,” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “I want you to take control. Make me forget everything.”

A satisfied grin spread across Chan’s face as he moved you toward the bed. The moment his hands slipped under your robe, your breath hitched in anticipation. He wasn’t in a rush, no, but you knew this would be the kind of night that would leave you both changed forever.

His mouth found your neck, kissing, nipping, tasting you as his hands continued their exploration. Everything about him felt like fire, and you didn’t want to escape it. You were his now—body and mind—and you couldn’t wait to see how far this would go.

As Chan’s hands slipped under the delicate fabric of your robe, the cool material brushed your skin before being discarded entirely. The lacy black lingerie underneath was a sharp contrast to the soft glow of the room, accentuating every curve, every line of your body. The air between you two grew heavier, charged with anticipation, and Chan didn’t waste a second, his eyes darkening as they took in the sight of you before him.

His fingers traced the edge of your lingerie slowly, feeling the intricate lace beneath his touch as if memorizing every detail. “This… is perfect,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire as he let his hands move down your sides, over the smooth skin exposed by the robe’s open front. The way his touch seemed to set fire to your skin made your breath hitch, the sensation so electric it left you trembling.

His hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush against each other. He could feel your heartbeat thudding, your chest rising and falling with every breath. It made his confidence grow, seeing you react to him like this. He was in control, and there was no doubt in either of your minds.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his chest firm against yours, as he placed his lips to your neck. His kisses were slow and deliberate, moving from your pulse point to the soft line of your collarbone, each kiss igniting a deeper hunger within you. His hands slid up to your ribs, grazing the delicate lace of your lingerie, the touch making you ache with anticipation.

“I could feel you holding back before,” he whispered against your skin, his lips brushing over the sensitive spot just behind your ear. “But not now. You’re mine now, aren’t you?”

You sucked in a breath, feeling the intensity of his words pulse through you. His confidence was contagious. There was no hesitation in his movements, no uncertainty. It made you want to surrender to him entirely, to let him take control in every sense of the word.

“I’m not holding back,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, but the challenge in your tone was undeniable. You reached up to pull him closer, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging him back to your lips. His kiss was heated, demanding, as if he was taking everything he could from you, just as you wanted.

Chan groaned into your mouth, one hand sliding lower to your hips, urging you to the edge of the bed, his fingers expertly tracing the line of your lingerie until they brushed the soft skin of your inner thighs. The sudden contact made your breath hitch, your body arching into him instinctively. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark and full of promise.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me you want me.”

You could feel your body tightening with every passing second, the heat between you two almost unbearable. You’d never felt like this before—never so completely overwhelmed by someone’s presence, by the raw power of their touch. But here, with him, you were willing to give up that control, to let him take you where he wanted to go.

“I want you,” you breathed, the words slipping from your lips without a second thought. “I want you to take control. I’m yours tonight, Chan.”

A victorious smile spread across his face as he leaned down, capturing your lips once more in a kiss that was full of hunger, full of everything that had been building between you two since the moment he stepped into the room. His hands worked quickly now, no longer teasing, but pulling you closer, guiding you back onto the bed, his body following yours down.

The moment his lips left yours, his hands trailed down your body, expertly unclipping the delicate straps of your lingerie, sliding the lace away to reveal more of your skin. His eyes darkened even further as he took in the sight of you beneath him, vulnerable yet powerful in your own right.

“You’re beautiful,” he muttered, his voice filled with awe, but his actions were far from gentle. He was claiming you—completely—and you welcomed it, knowing that you were exactly where you needed to be.

Chan’s lips moved down your body, leaving a trail of heated kisses and soft bites that sent waves of desire crashing through you. His hands roamed over your skin like he couldn’t get enough, tracing every curve, every dip, until you were completely exposed to him, your body laying beneath his touch, vulnerable and open. The contrast between the softness of his caresses and the heat in his touch was intoxicating.

He pulled back for a moment to look at you, taking in the way you trembled beneath him, your breath shallow, eyes clouded with hunger. There was a look in his eyes, something darker, more primal, but it was also filled with admiration. He seemed to savor every inch of you as if he knew the power he held over you, the way his presence made you surrender without question.

“You’re breathtaking,” he murmured, his voice low, almost reverent, but his eyes gave away the intensity behind his words. “So fucking beautiful, Y/N.”

You met his gaze, your fingers sliding through his hair, pulling him back down to you with a quiet urgency. There was no need for more words now. Everything was clear. The way your bodies pressed together felt like the world outside no longer existed. It was just you, just him, just this moment where nothing mattered but the burning connection between you two.

Chan’s lips found yours again, kissing you harder this time, with an almost desperate need. His hands gripped your body, holding you in place as his kiss deepened, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with an intensity that left you breathless. You moaned into the kiss, your body reacting to him in ways you didn’t think possible. He was pushing you to the edge of your control, and you didn’t want to fight it.

He pulled away, breathless, his lips barely hovering over yours as he whispered, “You’ve got me, Y/N. Every part of me.”

The words sent a thrill through you, and you responded without hesitation, your hands sliding down his chest, pushing his jacket off his shoulders before pulling his shirt over his head. You weren’t waiting anymore. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

His eyes darkened as he watched you, as if he was trying to memorize every movement you made. His hands followed the path your fingers had taken, tracing the shape of your body, as though he wanted to feel you in every way possible. The heat in the room was unbearable now, the tension thick as he slid his body over yours, his chest brushing against yours, sending sparks of heat through your skin.

“Tell me what you want,” he said again, his voice a deep growl, his lips brushing against your neck. “What do you need, Y/N? I’ll give it to you.”

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, the muscles beneath his skin firm and taut. The way he spoke to you, the way he touched you—it was all too much to bear. You felt like you were burning up from the inside out, your body desperate for him.

“You,” you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, but the intent behind it was crystal clear. “I need you, Chan. I need all of you.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. With a swift motion, he pulled you closer, his body aligning perfectly with yours. You could feel the heat of him pressing into you, the hard edge of his desire undeniable. His breath was ragged as he looked down at you, as if trying to gauge if you were truly ready, truly willing.

And you were. You’d never been more sure of anything in your life.

“Good girl,” he murmured, a smile of approval curving his lips before he kissed you again—slow, deep, as if he was savoring the moment before everything else unfolded. His hands moved to your thighs, pulling them apart, positioning himself between your legs. The anticipation was almost unbearable, the intensity of it pulling you to the brink.

“Just let go, Y/N,” he whispered against your lips, his voice almost pleading, though it was clear he had no intention of asking for anything. He wasn’t waiting for permission. He was taking what he wanted, just like he promised. And you were ready.

With one smooth movement, he entered you, and the world around you blurred into nothingness. There was only him. Only this.

The sound of your breaths, the press of your bodies together, and the way he moved inside you made everything else fade into the background. Every stroke, every thrust was slow and deliberate, building an intensity that you knew would consume you both completely. He didn’t rush—he was taking his time, savoring every second of this moment, and you let him. The way he felt inside you, the way he touched you—it was overwhelming, but it was perfect.

Chan’s lips were on yours again, kissing you like he couldn’t get enough, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer, urging you to meet him with every movement. You were both completely in sync, bodies moving together as one, and every thrust, every movement only made the connection between you two that much stronger.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his breath ragged against your lips. “You feel so good. So fucking good, Y/N.”

The heat between you both was building, and you could feel it, the way your body was tightening, pulling him closer, wanting him deeper. You didn’t need to say anything. The way your body responded was enough.

As he moved faster, harder, you couldn’t help but let out a low moan, your fingers digging into his skin, urging him on, needing more. The way his body felt against yours, the way he filled you—it was everything you wanted, everything you craved.

Chan’s pace quickened, each thrust now measured but firm, as if he were claiming you entirely, and you were lost in the rhythm, the heat, the pressure of it all. The bed creaked beneath you both, a constant reminder of the wild intensity that was building with every passing second. The world outside didn’t exist anymore; there was only Chan, only this moment that felt like it would swallow you both whole.

His lips trailed down your neck again, kissing you with abandon as his hands slid to your back, pressing you closer to him, if that was even possible. Your nails dug into his shoulders, and the sound of your breathless moans filled the space, matching the pulse of your bodies moving together. Every part of you seemed to hum with need, and he was more than willing to satisfy it.

“You feel so good, Y/N,” Chan grunted between kisses, his voice rough with desire. His breath hitched as he adjusted his position, his hands gripping your hips tighter, making sure every inch of him was as deep as it could go. “So fucking tight.”

You gasped at the way his words seemed to vibrate through you, making your body tighten even more around him. The sound of his voice, the harshness, the way it made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered right then—it sent shivers of pleasure down your spine.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, if that was even possible. The need to feel him, to have him fill you completely, was overwhelming. Your hands slid down his chest, feeling the hard, defined muscles beneath his skin as he moved above you.

“I’m going to make you forget everything else, baby,” Chan whispered, his voice a low, gravelly command. “All that matters is this. Just you and me.”

You barely had time to respond, not that words even seemed necessary anymore. You were too far gone in the moment, too caught up in the wild intensity of it all to care about anything else. The way his body moved against yours, the way he touched you, the way he whispered those dirty words into your ear—it was all too much to resist.

His lips found yours again, rougher this time, as though he was tasting you for the last time, as though he needed every part of you before it was over. His hand slid between your bodies, finding the sensitive spot between your legs, and the added pressure sent a wave of pleasure coursing through you, making your body arch beneath him, begging for more.

“Chan,” you moaned, your voice almost pleading now as the pleasure started to build. “Please… don’t stop.”

He didn’t. Not for a second. His hand worked with precision, his thrusts deeper now, faster, pushing you to the brink. The air between you both was thick with the promise of release, and with every movement, it felt like you were teetering on the edge of something unforgettable.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. “I can feel it. You’re so fucking close.”

You couldn’t respond, not with words. All you could do was let out a breathless gasp as his hand moved faster, his body pounding into you with relentless force. The pressure in your core grew, tightening, building, until you couldn’t take it any longer.

With one last forceful thrust, you came undone, your body trembling beneath him, the world spinning in a blur of pure sensation. Your name escaped his lips in a ragged moan as he followed you, his body stilling as he buried himself deep, a final release that sent waves of satisfaction flooding over you both.

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the sound of heavy breathing, the echo of your shared release hanging in the air like a sweet, bitter memory. Chan collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms with surprising tenderness after the intensity of the moment.

You both lay there, still, your bodies intertwined, and the silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable. It was filled with something unspoken, something deeper than just the physical connection you’d shared. It was an understanding, a realization that whatever had just happened, it would stick with you both.

“You’re incredible,” Chan murmured, his voice soft as his fingers traced the line of your jaw.

You smiled faintly, the corners of your lips curving as you closed your eyes, letting the moment settle. “So are you.”

For a moment, you just lay there, the world outside of this room forgotten, and the only thing that mattered was the quiet aftermath of everything that had passed between you both.

As the moment between you two started to settle, the weight of everything that had just happened began to creep in. The heat, the passion—it all felt so raw, so real. But reality had a way of crashing in when you least expected it, and now, as the silence settled between you, you could almost hear the hum of the city beyond the walls of the room, the noise of the outside world slowly seeping back into your thoughts.

Chan pulled away from you just enough to look at your face, his hand tracing the outline of your jaw, like he was trying to memorize every detail of this moment. But there was a softness in his eyes now, the confident, playful edge replaced by something a little more uncertain, like he knew this was only temporary.

The silence stretched, and you couldn’t help but break it first, your voice quieter, tinged with something that felt almost vulnerable. “You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?”

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Yeah… we’re only here for a few days. The tour goes on tomorrow.”

You both knew the truth. He was Bang Chan, a star on the rise, surrounded by the buzz of the world, and you were just… you. A girl who had ended up here because of circumstances far from ideal, surviving, doing what you needed to do. There was no pretending that your worlds were the same.

“I guess this was… never meant to be more than a night,” you said, the words tasting bittersweet on your tongue. You wished it could be different. Hell, you wished he could be different. But you were who you were, and he was who he was, and no matter how deeply you had connected in that room, you both knew how the story would end.

Chan’s gaze softened, his hand resting gently on your arm as if trying to soothe the tension in the air. “Yeah, but this night? It’s gonna stick with me. You’re gonna be my most precious memory from Amsterdam.”

The words were like a punch to your chest, unexpected and raw. You looked up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the sting. The vulnerability in his words hit you harder than you’d anticipated. “You really think so?”

He nodded, his thumb brushing against your skin, the gesture so tender it almost felt out of place. “I do. You’re unforgettable.”

For a moment, the weight of it all felt heavy, but you wouldn’t let yourself feel too much. This was the way things worked, wasn’t it? You gave them a little piece of yourself, and in return, they gave you a memory, a fleeting moment. You could live with that.

"I hope you have the best time on your tour, Chan,” you said, keeping your voice steady. “Keep shining.”

He smiled softly, that familiar confident glint returning to his eyes, though there was a bittersweet edge to it. He leaned down one last time, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before he pulled back. His lips brushed against your skin in the softest of gestures, and you felt the weight of the goodbye settle between you both.

“You’ve got a beautiful soul,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Never forget that.”

You nodded, the words more meaningful than you cared to admit. “I won’t.”

With one final glance, he turned, walking toward the door with that same quiet grace he always carried. The sound of the door closing behind him echoed in the stillness of the room.

And just like that, the moment passed, leaving you alone once again in the room that had held so much passion, so much heat. You leaned back against the bed, your fingers running through your hair, trying to shake off the weight of everything that had just happened.

You had a memory now. A memory that, for better or worse, would stay with you. A memory of a man who, for one night, was yours.

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght

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