Started: 30/01/25
Last updated: 06/07/25
Stray kids imagines
Lee Felix Bang chan Hyunjin
we're not kids anymore.

titsay
taylor price
Xuebing Du
dirt enthusiast
🪼
trying on a metaphor
Sade Olutola

Product Placement

Discoholic 🪩
One Nice Bug Per Day
wallacepolsom
NASA
Cosmic Funnies

JVL

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
RMH
ojovivo
d e v o n

izzy's playlists!
seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from Singapore

seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from Romania

seen from Colombia

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Italy

seen from United States
@chroniclesofskz
Started: 30/01/25
Last updated: 06/07/25
Stray kids imagines
Lee Felix Bang chan Hyunjin
end of beginning
Pairing: Husband!Steve Harrington x wife!reader
Summary: All you ever wanted was a family. All Steve ever dreamed of was becoming a father. It should be simple. What if it isn’t?
Warnings: angst, established relationship, married couple, arguments, marriage issues, pregnancy, infertility issues, maternity, motherhood, emotional distress
English isn't my first language, so be understandable and gentle, thanks!
Word count: +8k
Author's note: Girls, be ready: this is going to be really, really angst but it'll be worth it, I promise you! Let me know what you think with a comment, your feedbacks are really important for me. And if you want to support me even more, reblog it. I'd really appreciate it. Now enjoy it and thanks for reading!
You arrived in Hawkins on an overcast afternoon in early fall of 1989, with two suitcases, a folded map, and the quiet determination of someone who had decided to start over.
The town had greeted you with quiet streets, orange leaves scattered across the sidewalks, and that peculiar stillness that seemed to settle over everything once the summer crowds were gone. You didn’t know anyone. There were no familiar faces waiting for you, no relatives, no history tying you to the place.
Just a new beginning you had chosen for yourself.
It was scary but exciting at the same time. You couldn't wait to see what your new life had in store for you. You had a good feeling about it.
You rented a small apartment downtown, modest, and slightly outdated, but it was warm. Safe. And, most importantly, yours. You told yourself that was enough. A few days later, the new semester began, and with it your job as a secretary at Hawkins Elementary School. It wasn’t the position you were looking for but there were no available positions as art teacher at the moment, so you had settled for what you could have, promising yourself it was only temporary. Sooner or later you would teach in classrooms full of paint-stained hands and creative minds.
On your second day after starting the job, you met Steve Harrington.
`~♡° even winter is warm
'24 TO 25' DAY SIX | FANFIC NUMBER 29
pairing: lee felix (이 필릭스) x reader • genre: fluff, drabble (?) • warnings: n/a • age rating: all • a.n: SO SHORT IM SORRY ILL MAKE IT UP TO YOU IM SORRY DONT HATE ME IM SORRY IM SORRY.
𝖤𝖭𝖮𝖴𝖦𝖧 𝖫𝖮𝖵𝖤—𝖲𝖳𝖱𝖠𝖸 𝖪𝖨𝖣𝖲 (스트레이키즈)
かわいい how would it feel like to be in a relationship with both minho and jisung? 𖹭 . ⛩
─── ۶ৎ minsung x gn!9thmember!reader
彡 𝖨𝖭𝖢𝖫𝖴𝖣𝖤𝖲 fluff , threesome , reader has sensorial issues , mentions of minsung kiss , reader has trouble reading social cues
みずき─── hey guys !! i had this idea today and thought 'why not?' lmao. hope u enjoy ! <3 ✶
⌞ 0.6k words ⌝ ʚɞ
𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄&𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 ❀ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
The Fighter's Heart
The night was electric as Y/N stepped out with her friends, ready to soak in the vibrant atmosphere of the city. The club pulsed with life, lights flashing in sync with the rhythm of the deep bass that thumped through the concrete walls. Laughter and cheers mingled with the music, creating an intoxicating blend that drew them deeper into the heart of the night.
As her friends danced, Y/N felt increasingly aware of a group of guys across the room. They were loud, animated, and unmistakably eyeing her, their gazes predatory and hungry. She could sense their eyes on her, and despite the excitement of the night, a chill crept down her spine. They whispered among themselves, glancing her way, and their laughter felt sharp and invasive. Y/N's heart raced, not from the rhythm of the music but from the growing unease that bubbled inside her.
“Y/N! Come dance!” one of her friends called, pulling her back to the moment.
“Yeah, it’s a party!” another chimed in, oblivious to the eyes that followed Y/N's every move. Trying to shake off the feeling, she laughed and joined them on the dance floor, but the tension didn’t dissipate.
Every sway of her hips seemed to provoke the group, their attention now more intense. One of the guys leaned against the bar, smirking as he gestured for her to come over. Y/N turned her back on him, laughing with her friends, but her heart wasn’t in it. She could feel their eyes boring into her, as if she were prey, and that thought unsettled her deeply.
Suddenly, the music seemed to shift, the energy in the room transforming as she caught the gazes of the group moving closer. Their playful banter turned into something more threatening, their laughter sharp and pointed. One of them even made a bold move to brush against her, and she recoiled instinctively, her stomach twisting with anxiety.
“I need air,” she exclaimed, forcing a smile to mask her discomfort. “I’ll be right back.”
“Are you sure?” her best friend queried, concern etched on her face.
“Just a minute,” Y/N promised, stepping away from the volume of bodies and the energy that felt almost suffocating. She needed to breathe, to think, to escape the overwhelming pressure of being watched.
Leaving the club, she inhaled deeply, the cool night air wrapping around her like a welcome embrace. But as she leaned against the wall, taking a moment to collect herself, she sensed the group of guys emerging from the club as well. Their laughter echoed down the alley, and her heart sank.
“Look who’s all alone,” one of them jeered, a devilish grin spreading across his face. Y/N felt her shoulders tighten, a primal instinct kicking in as she realized this was no friendly encounter. Despite the chill in the air, she felt hot with fear.
“Leave me alone,” she said, her voice firm but trembling slightly. The path before her felt constricted as she backed away, her heart racing. It was an alley, and there was no escape.
They advanced on her, cloaked in boozy bravado. Panic surged through her chest, and every instinct screamed at her to run, but there was nowhere to go. As they closed in, she hastily typed a message to Chan on her phone—Help. I’m in trouble. I’m outside the club. Please hurry.
But before she could hit send, one of the guys lunged forward, knocking the phone from her hand. This time, it was too late. One of them clamped a hand over her mouth while another pressed a small vial against her neck. Darkness consumed her as the world slipped away.
When Y/N regained consciousness, the alley around her was dimly lit, and she was on the cold concrete floor, feeling disoriented and weak. Her clothes were torn; scratches and bruises marred her skin. She felt utterly vulnerable. Just as despair began to set in, she heard Chan’s fierce voice slice through the darkness.
“Y/N!”
Moments later, Chan arrived, charging into the alley like a reckoning. He dispatched the thugs with powerful strikes, his boxing training lending him an edge. Brimming with protective instinct, he quickly overwhelmed them, leaving them in disarray before turning his attention to Y/N.
Without hesitation, he scooped her into his arms, worry etched across his features. “We need to get you home.”
In his car, Chan drove swiftly through the streets, concern evident in every movement he made. Once they reached his apartment, he gently set her down on the couch. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said softly, his voice shaking slightly from the adrenaline still coursing through him.
As Chan retrieved a first aid kit to treat her wounds, Y/N felt a sudden surge of protectiveness rise within her. She couldn’t ignore the evidence of Chan’s own injuries—the blood dripping from his nose and the bruises marking his knuckles. “Chan, wait! You’re hurt! Let me take care of you first,” she insisted, her voice firm despite her lingering weakness from the earlier ordeal.
But Chan shook his head, his expression softening. “Y/N, you need to be taken care of right now. I can handle my own injuries later,” he replied, his determination unwavering as he focused on her.
Y/N frowned, frustration bubbling inside her at the thought of him sidelining his own pain for her. “I can’t just sit here while you’re bleeding! You fought for me—please let me help you first,” she pleaded, her heart racing as she reached out to examine the cut on his lip.
“I appreciate it, but I’m fine,” he insisted, though his tone was gentler now, filled with affection as he brushed her hand aside. “You’ve been through so much tonight. We need to get you cleaned up and comfortable.”
“Chan…” she started, but the sincerity in his eyes made her hesitate. There was a mixture of resolve and concern there, and in that moment, she realized how much he truly cared for her well-being—sacrificing his own comfort in the process.
Resigning herself, she sighed and nodded. “Okay, fine. But once I’m better, I’m taking care of you,” she said, a small smile breaking through her worry.
Chan smiled back, relief evident in his features as he directed her to the couch. “Alright, deal. But first, let’s get you into something more comfortable.”
As Y/N looked down at the dress she was wearing—now slightly rumpled and disheveled—she felt a twinge of embarrassment. “I look a mess,” she murmured weakly.
“Hold on,” Chan said, disappearing into his bedroom. He reappeared moments later with a pair of joggers and one of his oversized hoodies. “Here, put these on. You’ll feel so much better,” he insisted.
Y/N chuckled softly, feeling a mix of gratitude and playfulness. “Thanks, but you should turn around while I change,” she said teasingly, the corners of her mouth lifting into a smile.
Chan’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson as he quickly turned around, trying to maintain his composure. “Of course! Just… let me know when you’re ready.”
Feeling a warmth spread through her at his flustered reaction, Y/N quickly changed into the comfy joggers and hoodie, the fabric enveloping her in a sense of safety. Once she was dressed, she called out, “Okay, you can turn around now!”
When he turned back to face her, Chan’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of her in his oversized clothing, the fabric hanging off her frame in an adorable way. “You—wow, you look really cozy,” he stammered, still slightly blushing.
Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. “Thanks! It feels nice,” she said, feeling the comfort of the clothes sink in as she approached him. “Now, let’s take care of you.”
As Chan began to tend to her wounds, she winced slightly from the sting of the antiseptic, but the warmth of his care made it more bearable. Yet, her eyes kept drifting back to the bruises on his arms and the blood trickling from his nose.
“Chan…” she said softly, concern knitting her brows together. “You’re hurt too. Let me look at your injuries after this.”
“I’m tougher than I look,” he replied with a faint smile, attempting to downplay it, but Y/N wasn’t convinced.
“Your image can’t be ruined because of me, Chan,” she teased lightly, hoping to lighten the heaviness that had settled over them. Her heart ached at the thought of him being hurt for her sake.
“Y/N,” he interrupted, locking eyes with her, the sincerity radiating from him. “When it comes to you, I don’t care about anything else. I’d fight those idiots a hundred more times to make sure you’re safe.”
His words struck a deep chord within her. Touched by his unwavering dedication, a mix of gratitude and admiration bloomed inside her. There was more than friendship stirring in her chest—something profound and undeniable.
“Chan…” she began, her voice barely above a whisper as she edged closer, her heart racing. “You mean so much to me.”
With a sudden rush of courage, she leaned forward, her fingers grazing his cheek before she playfully nudged his face. The affectionate gesture caught him off guard, and before he could respond, Y/N surged toward him, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss that ignited a spark between them.
The kiss was both a release and a promise, filled with everything they hadn’t said aloud—the fears, hopes, and the love that had quietly grown between them. Chan responded instantly, deepening the kiss and pouring all of his emotions into that single moment. It felt as if time had stopped, the worries of the world fading away into oblivion.
When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, Y/N searched Chan’s eyes for reassurance. “I love you, Chan,” she confessed, her voice trembling with emotion as she felt vulnerable yet completely at home.
His expression softened further, filled with warmth and sincerity. “I love you too, Y/N. I always have,” he replied earnestly, pulling her into another tight embrace.
As he wrapped his arms around her, she felt truly safe—safe from the horrors of the night and the chaos that had threatened to engulf her. The feeling of warmth and security wrapped around her like his oversized hoodie, comforting her in a way she had never experienced before.
They sat together on the couch, the aftermath of the evening settling in around them. Y/N nestled into his side, feeling grateful for the sanctuary they had found in each other. “Can I take a look at your injuries now?” she asked gently, lifting her hand to brush against his cheek, careful not to aggravate any pain.
Chan hesitated, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “I told you, I’m fine. It’s nothing serious,” he said, but Y/N could sense the lie beneath his bravado.
“Chan, please. I need to know you’re okay too,” she insisted, her voice softening to a coaxing tone, urging him to share his pain.
With a heavy sigh, he relented, turning slightly to reveal the bruises marring his arms. Y/N’s heart tightened at the sight, and she gently traced her fingers over the darkened skin. “You really went all out for me,” she murmured, a mix of admiration and concern flooding her senses.
“I couldn’t just let them hurt you,” he replied, his voice reflecting the intensity of his feelings. “You’re the most important person to me.”
Gazing into his eyes, Y/N felt her heart swell with emotion. “You’re important to me too, Chan. I don’t want you to think that I take your sacrifices lightly,” she whispered, feeling grateful for everything he had done for her.
He smiled softly, his expression revealing the trust they had built together. “I know you don’t. That’s why I’d do it all over again without hesitation.”
Y/N gently applied some antiseptic to his wounds, focused on treating him with the same tenderness he had shown her. As she worked, she couldn’t help but feel in awe of their connection—the understanding that transcended words.
Once she finished, she leaned back and smiled up at him. “See? Not so bad, right?”
“Much better,” he replied, glancing down at his cleaned wounds. “Thanks to you.”
Feeling bold, Y/N leaned in and pecked his lips once more. “You’re my hero, Chan.”
His cheeks flushed slightly as he returned her kiss, a playful sparkle in his eye. “And you’re mine,” he said, teasingly.
They shared a comfortable silence, the weight of the world outside slowly drifting away. Together, they had found solace in each other despite the chaos that had marred their night.
As they sat wrapped in each other’s arms, ready to face whatever laid ahead, Y/N knew one thing for certain—the love that had blossomed between them would only grow stronger. No matter what challenges lay ahead, they would navigate them together, side by side, with their hearts intertwined and their spirits unbreakable. With Chan by her side, she felt ready to face the world anew.
[skz] warm water, safe in your arms
pairing: felix x gn!reader x minho contains: fluff – should felix and minho devise an intervention for you to stop studying all the time? because they will. (threat). ♡ note: more minlix!!! reader just wants to do well so badly it hurts – not at all inspired by my own all nighters for my degrees. don’t say that. (🍉 anon i hope you like this one too <3). 2.2k words. dividers by @lariesographic / my masterlist
It’s late – early, really, if you care to be technical about it. You don’t. The on-campus library closed and shooed you out hours ago, the staff exchanging worried looks as you packed up your laptop and reams of notes. They were right to. You might as well begin writing them rent checks with how often you camp out at their tables during exam season. “Go to sleep, okay?” Hyunjin had asked as you exited the double doors, only to be met with your noncommittal hum. Relaxation doesn’t ace finals.
The library closing doesn’t mean your work is done for the night – it just means you work in a different place. You’ve been at it nonstop lately. Nearly every surface in your apartment has been used as a makeshift desk within the past few days, and you have no intention of letting up until exams are over.
𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙴 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝙲𝙰𝙻𝙻𝚂 → 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗; 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗
𝙿𝙰𝙸𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶: 𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻 & 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
𝙶𝙴𝙽𝚁𝙴: 𝗙𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳. 𝗘𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽.
𝚆𝙲: 𝟮𝟵𝟭
𝙲𝚆: 𝗡𝗼𝗻𝗲.
𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚈: 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝘀𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗼𝗻 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹, 𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝘂𝗽. 𝗛𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀, “𝗦𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺𝘀, 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲,” 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀.
It starts the way it always does. You’re curled up in bed with your phone balanced on your pillow and he’s sitting in his studio chair surrounded by the soft glow of his monitors.
The two of you aren’t really even talking anymore. You did, at first—about random things, stupid things, the kind of nothing that fills the silence like a warm blanket.
Next time
The sea was calmer now that the shoot had ended. The crew had begun to pack up: lights dimming, camera lenses capped, the sound of chatter fading beneath the hush of the waves. You lingered near the edge of the set, hugging your arms against the breeze. The evening sun had turned gold into rose, washing everything in soft light.
Felix hadn’t moved for a long time. He stood where the last few shots had been taken, the horizon melting behind him. The bouquet of orange poppies he’d used as a prop still rested in his hand. When you called his name, he turned slowly, as if surfacing from a dream.
“Hey,” you said, smiling gently. “You don’t have to stay. They’re almost done packing up.”
He nodded but didn’t move. “I know… give me a minute.”
There was something different in his tone, quieter than usual. You watched him for a moment before walking closer, the crunch of sand under your shoes breaking the silence between you. “You okay? Need anything?”
written | my baking judge
pairing: felix x f!reader
genre: fluff
warnings: fluff, baking, food, eating
word count: 800
masterlist: Masterpost | Special EP
Glimmer Fics is a platform for interactive fanfiction. Don't just read a story - play it, as the main character.
Everyone go follow my new story about stray kids and ateez featuring enhyphen on glimmer it’s insane 3 chapters out now more pending
so i just felt the egg leave my ovary
mommy
♡ [ b. chan x fem!reader ] ♡ you found some interesting stuff on chan’s laptop.
♡ warnings: smut, titfucking (reader has big boobs for this😔 actlly not me tho, so it’s the only "physical appearance" description u will find, sorry), dry humping, oral sex (m. rec), boobplay, mommy kink, sub!chan, edging, orgasm denial, petnames, cumhoots, unprotected sex, creampie, chan is a pervert lol ♡ wc: ~4.6k
ᴍ.ʟɪsᴛ 𓏵 ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ
wen’s note: christopher defend yourself, u little gooner! (I learned that word from tiktok, how did i do it?😃) couldnt help it w his recent mssgs lol, im warming it up for the upcoming fics<3
Silver Temptation
Pairing: Bang Chan x Wife!Reader Genre: Fluff, Domestic, Smut, Established Relationship Word Count: ~3.5k Summary: Chan comes home with freshly dyed silver hair. Your one-year-old isn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at Daddy’s new look… but once the baby’s asleep, you finally get to appreciate just how dangerously good your husband looks.
Warnings: smut (oral f. receiving, unprotected sex, praise kink, soft dom!Chan, lots of kissing, aftercare). Fluff and domestic themes throughout.
—————————————————————————————————— The morning sunlight spilled softly across the living room as you balanced your one-year-old son on your hip. He was babbling to himself, small fingers clutching at your shirt while you swayed gently to keep him calm. Life with a toddler was messy, loud, and exhausting—but also full of these little pockets of sweetness that made you feel like your heart might burst.
You heard the front door click shut, followed by the sound of shoes being toed off and a duffel bag hitting the floor.
“Daddy’s home,” you whispered, smiling down at your son.
His little head perked up, eyes widening as he recognized the voice singing lightly from the hallway. “Hey, my loves!”
Bang Chan appeared, still in his hoodie and joggers, hair slightly damp from a quick rinse at the studio. But today… something was different. You blinked.
His hair.
It wasn’t the usual warm brown you’d grown used to running your fingers through. It wasn’t the blond phases or the darker shades he’d played with before. No—his hair was a striking, cool grey that caught the light in a way that made him look effortlessly mature and heartbreakingly gorgeous.
Your mouth actually went dry.
Chan’s smile softened when he saw you holding the baby, but then his attention shifted to your son, who had stopped mid-wiggle. The baby stared at him—long and hard. His chubby brows furrowed, lips trembling slightly.
And then, a tiny whimper.
Chan froze. “Uh oh…”
The baby buried his face into your neck, peeking out at Chan like he was a stranger.
“Love, what happened?” Chan chuckled nervously, touching his hair self-consciously. “It’s just me.”
You tried not to laugh, but the situation was too adorable. “I think…” you whispered, bouncing your son gently, “he doesn’t recognize you.”
Chan gasped dramatically, hand over his chest. “My own son? Already betrayed me?”
The baby whined again, eyes still fixed on the unfamiliar silver locks. You could practically see the gears turning in his little head—Daddy smells the same, sounds the same… but why does Daddy look different?
You stroked your son’s back, soothing him while you grinned at your husband. “I mean… to be fair, you do look really different.”
Chan tilted his head. “Different bad or different good?”
Your cheeks warmed as you looked at him properly for the first time, really taking in the sharpness it gave his features, how the grey made his skin glow, how it highlighted the deep warmth in his eyes. It was… unfair, really.
“Different… dangerously good,” you admitted under your breath.
Chan’s smirk returned instantly, dimples flashing. “Oh?”
The baby squealed at his tone, confused again, and clung tighter to you. You rubbed soothing circles on his back.
“Don’t tease,” you whispered, biting back a smile. “Your son thinks you’re an intruder.”
Chan crouched down a little, softening his voice. “Hey, buddy. It’s still Daddy. Look—same smile, same hugs.” He reached his arms out gently, not pushing too much.
The baby considered it for a long moment, lips wobbly, then cautiously reached one pudgy hand out to tug at Chan’s hoodie strings.
“See? Still me,” Chan murmured, kissing his tiny fingers.
Your son blinked, eyes darting up to the silver hair again, but this time he didn’t cry. Instead, he let out a questioning little “Da?”
Chan’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Da. Daddy.” He scooped him carefully from your arms, peppering kisses all over his cheeks until the baby giggled despite himself.
You crossed your arms, watching the two of them with a smile tugging at your lips. It was the same sight you saw every day—your husband with his whole world in his arms—but the grey hair added a new layer, like you were suddenly looking at him in a new light.
A light that made your stomach flip and your heart race.
Chan caught your gaze over your son’s head, reading you instantly. His lips curved in that teasing, knowing way that always made your knees weak.
Yeah. You were in trouble tonight.
Dinner was a blur of highchair mess, mashed veggies smeared on the table, and your son shrieking happily every time Chan made airplane noises with the spoon. You couldn’t stop smiling—even when you were on cleanup duty—because Chan looked so content. His silver hair fell into his eyes as he leaned forward, soft laugh echoing through the kitchen every time your son giggled back.
Eventually, bath time came. The routine was familiar: Chan hummed soft melodies while holding your slippery toddler steady in the water, you scrubbed carefully, and together you wrangled pajamas onto a wiggly, giggling body.
By the time your son was tucked into his crib, a lullaby humming from the small speaker and his little chest rising and falling in peaceful sleep, you felt the kind of bone-deep exhaustion only parents could understand.
You leaned against the nursery doorway, whispering, “Finally.”
Chan came up behind you, arms sliding around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. “Finally,” he echoed, but his voice carried a warmth that wasn’t just about rest.
You turned slightly, meeting his gaze in the dim hallway light. Up close, the silver strands shimmered, and you felt that strange little flutter in your chest again.
“You really like it,” he murmured, eyes searching yours.
You tried to play it cool, even though your pulse betrayed you. “It’s… not bad.”
He raised an eyebrow, lips quirking. “Not bad?”
You smirked, leaning closer. “Okay, fine. It’s… ridiculously sexy. You look like you stepped out of some drama where the mysterious, devastatingly handsome man breaks hearts without trying.”
Chan chuckled, low and pleased, dimples flashing. “And here I was worried my wife wouldn’t like it.”
You scoffed softly. “Your wife is currently wondering how fast she can get her son back to sleep tomorrow night just to have you all to herself.”
That earned you a quiet groan, his forehead pressing into your neck as he held you tighter. “Don’t say things like that when I can’t touch you properly in the hallway.”
You laughed, swatting his arm lightly before tugging him toward the bedroom.
Once the door closed behind you, the atmosphere shifted. No baby monitor beeping, no toys scattered across the floor, no sticky hands tugging at your shirt. Just you, Chan, and the soft lamplight casting a warm glow over the room.
He leaned back against the dresser, watching you with that lazy, smoldering gaze that always unraveled you. His fingers raked through his hair—silver glinting against tan skin—and you swore he knew exactly what he was doing.
You crossed your arms, trying to keep your composure. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” His voice was teasing, but his eyes were hungry.
“Like you’re undressing me with your eyes.”
Chan smirked. “Maybe I am.”
You took a slow step toward him, heart hammering. “Bold.”
“Honest,” he countered, tugging you flush against him the moment you were within reach. His hands splayed across your back, holding you like he’d been waiting all day for this exact moment.
You curled your fingers into his hoodie, tilting your head up. The grey hair caught your attention again, and before you could stop yourself, you reached up to run your fingers through it.
He closed his eyes, sighing softly. “You have no idea what that does to me.”
“Actually,” you whispered, brushing a strand back from his forehead, “I think I do.”
His laugh was soft, breath warm against your lips as he kissed you—slow at first, then deeper, more insistent, like he couldn’t get enough.
It had been a long day, but in that kiss, in his arms, you forgot about the exhaustion, the mess, the endless routine. All that existed was the two of you, tangled together in the quiet of your shared space.
Your lips moved in sync, hungry and desperate, as though you’d both been starving all day. Chan pressed you back against the dresser, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs, effortlessly lifting you until you wrapped your legs around his waist.
The kiss broke only when he needed air, his forehead pressed against yours, chest heaving. His voice was low, rough. “You drive me insane, you know that?”
You smiled breathlessly. “Me? You’re the one who came home looking like—” your eyes flicked up to his hair, “—that.”
He smirked, lips brushing your jaw as he trailed kisses down your neck. “So you really like it.”
Your fingers tugged lightly at the silver strands. “I love it.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. He carried you to the bed, laying you down carefully before crawling over you, his weight pressing you deliciously into the mattress. His hoodie was the first casualty—you tugged it up and over his head, revealing the toned chest and arms you knew so well.
Your hands roamed greedily, memorizing the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his heart. He kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made your toes curl.
When his hand slipped under your shirt, you gasped softly, arching into his touch.
“Still so sensitive,” he whispered against your lips, palming your breast gently through the fabric. “Even after all this time.”
You bit back a moan. “Chan—”
“Shh.” His mouth found your collarbone, sucking lightly until you whimpered. “I’ll take care of you.”
And he did.
Piece by piece, he undressed you with a reverence that made your heart ache. Every kiss, every touch was worship, like he couldn’t believe you were his. The cool strands of his silver hair brushed against your skin as he trailed kisses down your stomach, and you couldn’t help the shiver that ran through you.
When his mouth finally settled between your thighs, you muffled a cry against your hand, hips jerking at the first flick of his tongue.
“Always so sweet,” he murmured, glancing up at you with eyes dark and full of heat. “Let me taste you, baby.”
You could only nod, already too far gone.
He worked you slowly at first, tongue teasing, savoring every reaction. But when your legs started trembling and your moans grew desperate, he held you steady, devouring you with a hunger that left you dizzy.
Your release hit hard, your back arching as you cried out his name. He didn’t stop until you tugged gently at his hair, gasping for breath.
Chan crawled back up, kissing you softly, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “Good?”
You laughed weakly, still trembling. “You’re asking me that after that?”
He grinned, dimples flashing. “I like hearing it.”
You pulled him down for another kiss, rolling your hips against his. The hard length pressing against you left no doubt what he needed.
“Please,” you whispered.
That single word broke whatever restraint he had left. He shed the rest of his clothes quickly, then aligned himself with you, pausing just long enough to kiss you deeply before sliding inside.
The stretch made you moan, nails digging into his shoulders.
“God—” he groaned, burying his face in your neck. “You feel perfect.”
He moved slowly at first, savoring every inch, every sound you made. His pace built gradually, each thrust deeper, harder, until you were clinging to him, whimpering against his ear.
The bed creaked softly under the rhythm of your bodies, but the world outside ceased to exist. There was only Chan—his warmth, his strength, the love in his eyes every time he looked at you.
“Look at me,” he whispered, tilting your chin until your eyes locked. “I want to see you when you fall apart for me.”
And you did.
The second orgasm crashed over you with blinding intensity, your body tightening around him as you cried out his name. He followed soon after, groaning into your shoulder as he spilled inside you, holding you as if he’d never let go.
For a long moment, you just lay there together, sweaty, tangled, and blissfully spent. His hand stroked your hair, his breathing gradually steadying.
“Still scared of Daddy’s hair, huh?” he joked softly, voice hoarse but teasing.
You laughed weakly, swatting his chest. “Your son might be. Your wife, on the other hand…” You kissed him gently, savoring the taste of him. “She’s obsessed.”
He smiled, eyes softening as he kissed your forehead. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”
You curled into him, heart full, body sated, and knew that silver hair or not, he’d always be the man you’d choose a thousand times over.
Filthy Little Secret
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Pairing: Felix x younger!fem!reader
Summary: Felix takes a liking to his best friend’s younger sister.
Warnings: Mentions of sex, sexual content.
A/N: Younger does not mean under 18. The reader is fully legal, don’t worry.
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Holding Onto Hope
Warning: This story talks about infertility and the deep heartbreak of not being able to conceive. If you're going through something similar, know you're not alone. Healing takes time, but love and hope can help us find a new way forward.
From the moment Felix and Y/N met, their worlds intertwined with a gentle promise — a promise of love, of future days filled with laughter, tiny hands clutching theirs, and a home echoing with joy. They sat beneath star-studded skies, whispering softly of the family they longed for, their hearts full of hope and innocence. Every dream they dreamt together shimmered with possibility — a life where love grew boundlessly, and their hearts beat in harmony with the idea of holding their own children someday. But life, in its quiet, relentless way, began to shatter those dreams piece by fragile piece.
It started with subtle signs—missed periods, a distant ache that Y/N brushed aside, convincing herself it was nothing but nerves or exhaustion. She told herself to be strong, to ignore the faint nagging voice inside that warned her something was wrong. Days turned into weeks, and each month she whispered silent prayers, clinging desperately to hope. But deep within her, a quiet dread grew — a knowing she refused to accept. She tried to brush aside her fears, convincing herself that maybe, just maybe, she was overthinking. Yet, the truth was too loud to ignore anymore, gnawing at her with relentless persistence.
Finally, unable to carry the weight alone, she quietly booked an appointment with the doctor. She left home in silence, her heart pounding like a thunderstorm inside her chest, her mind spiraling with fear she couldn’t yet face aloud. Felix, so busy with rehearsals and preparations for their upcoming tour, remained blissfully unaware of the torment brewing beneath her surface. She tucked her trembling hands into her pockets, fighting the swell of anxiety and dread as she drove to that sterile, unfeeling building, her every step echoing with dread.
When the doctor finally spoke, her words were carefully chosen, gentle but heartbreaking. “Y/N,” she began softly, voice soaked with empathy, “I want you to understand that what I have to tell you isn’t easy, but I believe honesty is the only way.” Her eyes watched Y/N’s trembling form with kindness. “After reviewing your tests, I have to tell you that your reproductive system shows no support for pregnancy — it’s complete. There’s no possibility of conception, now or ever. It’s a stark, final truth.”
The words hit her like a blow. Her entire body went numb. Her breath caught, heartbeat thudding painfully in her ears as her mind spun out of control. The room blurred around her, the doctor’s kind voice fading into the background. Her dreams, her hopes, the love she’d envisioned holding in her arms one day — all of it dissolved into an icy abyss within seconds. Her vision blurred, tears blurring her sight, and she felt her world shatter beneath her. The finality of the words left her hollowed out — a hollow that echoed with the hollow ache of dreams denied and hope extinguished. Her heart crumbled in her chest, aching with a pain so profound it swelled uncontrollably, tearing her apart from within.
She fought to breathe, fighting the sobs threatening to escape her lungs, but her throat clenched under the weight of despair. Silence engulfed her, broken only by the sound of her trembling tears. She stared blankly at the invisible distance, unable to speak or process what she’d just heard. The brutal truth made her feel like her entire world had been ground to dust. Her fists clenched at the sterile table, trembling with grief too deep for words.
The kindness in the doctor’s voice faded into background noise as Y/N sank into a heap of grief. Her mind replayed the moment endlessly—the hopes, the plans, the futures she’d imagined — all gone, swept away by cruel, irreversible truth. Her dreams of holding her own child now crumbled into dust, leaving behind only an emptiness so vast it clawed at her soul. Her entire being felt weighed down by sadness so heavy it was almost a physical pain, a piercing emptiness that threatened to swallow her whole. Her tears streamed freely now, raw and uncontainable, as helpless sobs broke through her lips — a song of heartbreak, yearning, and despair.
And yet, she chose to keep her pain hidden. She knew Felix would be devastated too, and right now, he needed to focus on the upcoming tour. Their lives were chaotic, filled with plans, rehearsals, and the relentless schedule he was bound to. Her grief was her own, a wound she couldn’t burden him with just yet. So she kept silent, hiding her heartbreak in shadows, afraid that if she told him, the weight of despair would become overwhelming for both of them.
In the days and weeks that followed, she maintained a brave front, trying to act normal, trying to keep everything together. She tried to carry on as if nothing had changed, forcing herself to laugh at little jokes, to pretend she was fine, but inside, each day felt like walking through a fog of grief too thick to see through. Every time she looked at Felix preparing for the tour, she felt a pang of guilt — for hiding her pain, for pretending to be strong, for not telling him the truth.
She watched him from afar, her heart aching with love and guilt as she kept her secret locked deep inside where no one could reach. She was a fragile shell of herself, hiding her despair beneath a forced smile, pretending she was okay — all for his sake, all while her world was quietly crumbling.
Finally, one night, sitting alone in their bedroom, her trembling hands pulled the sealed envelope from where she’d hidden it. Her heart was pounding harder than ever. She stared at the white paper, trembling so violently she could barely hold it. The words she’d long feared stared back at her — cruel, final, devastating.
“There is no possibility of pregnancy. Your reproductive system is unable to support conception. You will never conceive naturally or through any medical intervention.”
Her body went cold. The room seemed to spin around her as everything she’d believed in, everything she’d dreamed of, dissolved into a shattered, unrecognizable nightmare. Her heart shattered into a million tiny pieces, and the tears she had fought so hard to hold back finally erupted — a flood of grief that poured out in uncontrollable sobs.
She sank to the floor, clutching her stomach as if trying to hold the remnants of her hope inside her, but it was no use. Her tears racked her entire body, trembling with despair, broken by the cruel finality of the diagnosis. Her sobs tore through the silence, loud and raw, her voice lost in an ocean of heartbreak.
Meanwhile, Felix had been practicing at the studio, pouring his soul into melodies, unaware of the storm brewing in the house. His phone buzzed with missed calls and messages from her, but he hesitated, distracted. When he finally arrived home that night, he expected to see her smiling, maybe ready to share a joke or a story.
Instead, his heart plummeted. The door creaked open, and he saw her lying in bed—her body trembling uncontrollably. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, her face so fragile, so broken. She clutched a tiny, familiar blanket — the one they had bought for their first child — as if clutching the last remaining piece of hope.
His tired, practiced demeanor shattered in an instant. He ran to her side, his heart pounding, worry etched into his eyes. His mind spun — he’d known about her appointment, but she had told him she was fine, that she was strong. Now, standing before him, he saw what all her silence had hidden.
When he looked into her trembling face, he knew. Until she confirmed it, it felt like the truth was just outside his grasp — hiding behind her tears, behind her trembling voice. But seeing her like this, so utterly broken, made it all painfully real.
He moved quickly, instinctively wrapping her in his arms, clutching her tightly against his chest as if to hold her pieces together. His own eyes welled with tears, helplessness overwhelming him.
“Y/N,” he whispered brokenly, voice thick with emotion. “What happened? Please… tell me.”
She looked up at him, tears pouring down her face, her whole body shaking with emotion. Her voice was cracked and trembling, words spilling out desperately.
“I… I found out today,” she whispered through her sobs, “the doctor… the results… I can’t have a baby. Felix… I can’t be a mother.”
His heart clenched painfully at her words. The pain was written into every feature of her face — her trembling body, her tear-streaked cheeks, her broken sobs. It felt as if someone had ripped out his own heart and handed it back in pieces, ache and helplessness engulfing him.
He instinctively pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he could. Tears slipped down his cheeks now, helpless and overwhelmed, feeling as if the very ground beneath him had cracked open.
“Shh,” he whispered, voice hoarse, trembling with raw emotion. “I’m here. I’m so sorry… I wish I could take this pain away. I wish I’d been there with you.”
He held her trembling form, feeling her heartbreak as his own. For a long moment, neither of them spoke — only tears and soft whispers of love filling the silence between them, a fragile thread holding them Felix held her fiercely, pressing his forehead against hers, trembling with his own heartbreak. Every tear she shed felt like a dagger piercing straight to his soul, and he wished desperately he could take her pain away — to turn back time or make her see that she was still enough, still loved more than anything in this world.
“I wish I could fix this,” he whispered hoarsely, voice thick with emotion. “I wish I could make it better, but I’m just… I’m so sorry, Y/N. I can’t believe this is real.”
Her trembling eased slightly as she clung to him, her sobs gradually quieting into ragged breaths. But beneath her tears, the ache remained — a raw, unhealed wound that would leave its mark forever.
He pressed a gentle kiss to her damp hair, holding her close in a silent vow. “We’re going to get through this, love,” he murmured softly. “We may not have the family we thought was waiting for us, but we still have each other. We’ll find another way. I promise.”
Her body shuddered in his arms, a fragile, broken thing yearning for healing. She looked up at him, exhausted but desperate to cling to some sliver of hope.
“I don’t know how,” she whispered, voice trembling, “but I don’t want to lose you. I... I don’t want to lose us. Even if this isn’t what we imagined, I want us to find a new way — together.”
Felix’s eyes shimmered with tears, and he cupped her face tenderly, wiping away a tear with his thumb. “We will,” he said quietly, voice unwavering. “Whatever it takes. We’ll face it all — side by side. And when you’re ready, we’ll talk about all the options — surrogacy, adoption — whatever it takes to make our family, in whatever form, happen.”
She looked into his eyes, her heart aching with love and grief, trying to believe in those words. To believe in the future that still, faintly, shimmered beyond the pain.
“Okay,” she whispered finally, voice fragile but determined. “When I’m ready.”
Felix nodded softly, leaning in and gently pressing his forehead against hers, their trembling breaths mingling in despair and hope.
In that quiet, battered space between heartbreak and healing, their love endured — fragile, wounded but unyielding. Because even amid the darkness, they knew that together, they could still find a way to forge a new kind of family — built not just on biology, but on unwavering love, resilience, and the hope that someday, somehow, their dreams would still come true.
And in that promise, they found a flicker of light to hold onto — a spark that refused to be extinguished by sorrow.
Pushing Buttons
The evening sun painted the sky a gentle orange as it dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room where Y/N and Felix sat, their eyes glued to the computer screen. The only sound in the quiet apartment was the steady ticking of the clock and the occasional hum of the fridge. Both were wrapped in their own worlds, the soft glow of the screen illuminating their faces, highlighting their determination as they played their favorite game.
Felix's hands moved with the precision of a seasoned pianist, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Meanwhile, Y/N's fingers danced over the keyboard, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips as she watched her avatar outmaneuver his for the third time in a row. The air grew thick with tension as the scoreboard flashed the results of the latest round: another victory for her.
"Looks like I'm the grill master here, huh?" she taunted, her voice teasing and light, not expecting the storm brewing within him.
Felix's jaw clenched, his knuckles whitening on the mouse. "You want to keep this up?" he challenged, his voice a warning whisper. He couldn't believe how she was basking in his defeat, enjoying the moment a little too much. Yet, it was oddly endearing to see the competitive fire in her eyes, a stark contrast to her usual softness.
"Bring it, pretty boy," she shot back, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. Her heart raced, thrilled by the challenge she saw in his gaze. She had never seen him like this, so fiery and intense. It was as if she had unlocked a side of him that she didn't even know existed.
Felix's eyes darkened, the corners of his lips tipping up in a smug smile. He knew he could take her down a peg or two. "Alright, you asked for it," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers as he launched into the next round.
Y/N's smirk grew wider as she watched him, her heart pounding in anticipation. This was going to be good. They played on, the tension in the room palpable. Each move they made was a silent declaration of their skills, a dance of digital swords. The game was their battlefield, and they were both determined to emerge victorious.
The minutes turned to hours, and the room grew warmer as the air thickened with their competitive spirits. Sweat beaded on their foreheads, their breaths grew heavier with every victory and defeat. The occasional laughter or grunt echoed through the apartment, punctuating the silence like a drumroll before a dramatic finale.
Finally, it was the deciding round. Y/N's heart raced as she made her final move, her eyes glued to the screen. The seconds ticked by, the suspense unbearable. And just like that, the words "Victory" flashed before her eyes, and she couldn't help but let out a triumphant cheer.
Felix's grip on his chair tightened, his teeth grinding together. He had lost again. But instead of the usual frustration, he felt something else, something primal and untamed. He turned to her, his eyes burning with a mix of irritation and something else—desire.
Without a word, he pushed himself out of his chair and closed the distance between them. Before Y/N could react, he spun her chair around, trapping her in the confines of his arms. His eyes searched hers, looking for a challenge, a sign that she wasn't just playing games. And that's when she realised, she had been playing a dangerous game of her own, one that had gone further than she ever intended.
Their gazes locked, the air charged with unspoken words. Y/N's heart fluttered like a trapped bird, her breath catching in her throat as she met his intense stare. The room seemed to shrink around them, the only sound their ragged breaths mingling in the stillness.
"I dare you," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, her eyes filled with a dare of her own.
Felix leaned in closer, his breath hot on her cheek. "Careful what you wish for, princess," he murmured, his voice a low purr. "You might just get it."
And with that, he claimed her mouth in a fiery kiss that sent a jolt of electricity through her body. It was rough, demanding, and everything she didn't know she wanted. Y/N gasped, her eyes widening in surprise, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into it, her hands coming up to grip the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.
Her initial fear quickly melted away, replaced by a burning curiosity that ignited into a full-blown flame. This was a side of Felix she had never seen before, and it was intoxicating. As the kiss deepened, she felt a surge of power within her, a sense of control she hadn't known she had. It was like they had crossed an invisible line, and there was no turning back.
With a surprising strength, she pushed him away, her eyes flashing with excitement and challenge. "Is that all you've got?" she teased, her voice breathless.
Felix's anger didn't waver, but his expression changed—it grew hungry. He grabbed her wrists, his grip firm but not painful, and yanked her out of the chair. Before she could react, he had her pinned down on the bed, his body hovering over hers. The room spun around Y/N as she stared up at him, her heart racing.
"I don't know what game you're playing," he growled, his eyes dark and intense, "but you're playing with fire." His words were a warning, but his voice was a caress, sending shivers down her spine.
Y/N didn't miss a beat, her own eyes sparkling with excitement. She raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Maybe I like playing with fire." She didn't struggle as he held her hands above her head, instead, she leaned into his touch, feeling the heat of his body pressing into hers.
With surprising agility, he took off his belt, the leather sliding through the loops of his jeans with a smooth whoosh. He wrapped it around her wrists, securing them to the headboard. The sudden restraint sent a thrill through her, and she bit her bottom lip to keep from gasping out loud.
Felix studied her face, looking for any sign of fear or doubt. All he found was a hunger that matched his own. He leaned in, his nose brushing against hers as he whispered, "You're going to regret this."
Y/N met his gaze, her voice steady and filled with mischief. "Is that a promise?" she said, her eyes never leaving his.
Felix's head tilted back, and a flash of frustration crossed his face. His jaw clenched slightly, and with a silent challenge, he pushed his tongue into his cheek. He let out a deep, heavy groan-laugh, a sound that was a mix of annoyance and arousal. "Don't fuck with me, Y/N," he warned, his smirk never fading.
"Oh, but you're so fun when I do," she cooed back at him, her voice dripping with a seductive playfulness. She squirmed underneath him, the leather belt around her wrists tightening slightly as she tested her boundaries. Her hips rocked upward, brushing against him, and she could feel his response, his erection pressing into her.
Felix's eyes narrowed, his smirk growing into a full-blown grin. "Alright, you've had your fun," he said, his voice thick with desire. He reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head in one swift motion. His eyes raked over her exposed skin, his gaze lingering on her breasts, which were now barely contained by her lacy black bra.
Her heart raced as she watched him, her chest heaving with each shallow breath. "Are you going to leave me like this?" she asked, her voice a seductive purr. The challenge in her eyes was unmistakable.
Felix smirked, his eyes dark with desire. "Not a chance," he murmured, his thumb tracing the lace of her bra. He took his time, enjoying the way her body responded to his touch. With a flick of his wrist, he unclasped the hooks, and her bra fell away, revealing her perky breasts.
"So, you're going to play the gentleman now?" Y/N quipped, her voice a mix of sarcasm and lust. She watched him, her eyes half-lidded, as he took in the sight of her.
Felix chuckled darkly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I've never claimed to be a gentleman," he replied, his voice a low growl. He leaned down, his breath hot on her skin as he captured one of her nipples in his mouth, eliciting a gasp from her. His teeth grazed the sensitive flesh, sending bolts of pleasure straight to her core.
Y/N's cheeks flushed as she watched him, her body arching into his touch. "So, what does that make you?" she managed to say, her voice laced with sarcasm despite the moan that escaped her lips.
Felix smirked against her skin, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak before he pulled away. "A man who's had enough of your games," he murmured, his eyes glinting with mischief. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, "But I'm more than happy to show you how I play."
Y/N couldn't help the sarcastic giggle that bubbled up from her chest. "Oh, I'm terrified," she quipped, her body betraying her with a shiver of anticipation. She felt his smirk against her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as he chuckled.
Felix pulled away slightly, his eyes searching hers, a hint of challenge in his gaze. "You should be," he murmured, his voice low and filled with heat. He kissed her again, his tongue delving into her mouth, exploring and claiming. Y/N met his passion with her own, the kiss turning desperate and wild.
As they broke apart, panting for air, she quipped, "You think you can handle me?" Her eyes gleamed with excitement, the teasing lilt to her voice unmistakable.
Felix smirked, his hands sliding down her sides to the button of her jeans. "Oh, I can handle you, Y/N," he said, his tone confident and filled with promise. He deftly undid the button and zipper, sliding them down her legs and tossing them aside.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she watched him, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. "Is that so?" she challenged, her voice a soft purr. "Because from where I'm lying, it seems like I'm the one holding all the power."
Felix smirked, his eyes flashing with amusement. "You think so?" He leaned down, his nose brushing against hers. "You're about to find out what happens when you push me too far." His voice was a dark whisper that sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn't help but smirk in response.
Y/N felt his weight shift as he reached over to grab something off the nightstand. She couldn't resist the urge to make another sarcastic comment. "What's the matter, scared to take it all the way?" she quipped, her voice full of false bravado.
Felix's eyes narrowed, and he leaned back over her, his smirk turning predatory. "Scared? Not even close," he replied, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill through her body. In his hand, he held a blindfold, and he held it up with a raised eyebrow. "But if you're so eager to find out, let's even the playing field."
Y/N's heart skipped a beat, and she couldn't help the smug smile that spread across her face. "You think I'm scared of a little darkness?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Felix's eyes lit up with a predatory glint. "Oh, it's not about fear, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a dark caress. "It's about trust." He leaned closer, his breath warm against her skin as he secured the blindfold over her eyes.
The sudden darkness heightened her other senses, making the sound of his zipper echo in the room. She could feel his heat as he positioned himself over her, his erection pressing into her stomach. "Still think you're in charge?" he whispered, his voice thick with desire.
"You wish," she retorted, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice as he flipped her onto her stomach. The coolness of the bed sheets against her bare skin sent a shiver down her spine, and she bit her bottom lip to keep from gasping as he grabbed her hips, pulling her towards the edge of the bed.
Felix's hand reached out, and she heard the sound of a drawer opening and closing. Her heart raced as she felt something soft and leathery brush against the back of her thigh. "What's that?" she asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice.
"Just a little something to even the score," he replied, his tone smug. She felt the flogger in his hand, the strands of leather trailing along her skin, sending goosebumps up her arms. "Ready to find out what happens when you push me too far?"
Y/N's mouth went dry, and she swallowed hard. "Bring it on," she said, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. She had no idea what was about to happen, but she knew it was going to be intense.
The first strike of the flogger was light, a gentle caress across her lower back that had her jumping in surprise. She yelped out a laugh, the sting sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. "Is that all you've got?" she goaded, her voice filled with mock bravado.
Felix chuckled, the sound sending a thrill through her. "Oh, I'm just warming up," he assured her, his voice low and seductive. The next strike was harder, the leather biting into her skin with a sharp sting that had her gasping.
Y/N's breath hitched, and she bit down on the pillow to muffle her moan. Her body was on fire, her skin alive with sensation. Each strike of the flogger was followed by a gentle caress of his hand, the contrast driving her wild with desire.
The pain was delicious, each blow sending waves of pleasure crashing through her. She could feel her pussy growing wetter, her body begging for more. "Harder," she murmured, her voice muffled by the fabric.
Felix's grip tightened on the flogger, and she felt the next strike coming before it hit her, the anticipation making it all the more intense. The leather kissed her skin with a fiery sting, and she moaned into the pillow, her body arching into the blow.
Their laughter and gasps filled the room, the sound of the flogger hitting her skin punctuating the air like a symphony of desire. It was a dance of power and submission, a dance that neither of them had ever experienced before.
As the last of the tension between them melted away, Felix dropped the flogger and leaned down to kiss the red marks he had left on her skin. "I love it when you're feisty," he murmured against her shoulder.
Y/N's body trembled, her eyes still blindfolded. "You love it too much," she quipped, her voice shaky with arousal. She felt his hand slide between her legs, his fingers finding her wet and ready.
Felix's voice grew rough with desire. "I love all of you," he murmured, his thumb circling her clit. "Every single inch."
Their breathing grew ragged as he slid two fingers inside her, his other hand gripping her hip. Y/N moaned, her body moving with his rhythm, the pleasure building with each stroke.
Felix leaned down, his breath hot on her ear. "Say it," he demanded, his voice a low growl. "Say you love me."
Y/N's heart skipped a beat, her body tightening around his fingers. She took a deep breath, the words on the tip of her tongue. "I love you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Felix stilled for a moment, his eyes wide with shock. He had never expected to hear those words, not here, not like this. But before he could say anything, she continued, her voice stronger. "But I'm not going to let you off that easily."
With a chuckle, he leaned down and kissed the side of her neck, his teeth grazing her skin gently. "Is that so?" he murmured, his hands sliding under her body to grip her ass firmly.
He pulled her hips back, lining her up with his cock, and with one powerful thrust, he rammed into her wet pussy. Y/N's body arched off the bed, a scream of pleasure tearing from her throat. She was still blindfolded, her senses heightened, making the sensation of his cock filling her up all the more intense.
Their bodies moved together, a dance of passion and need. He set a punishing pace, driving into her with every ounce of his strength. The bed creaked and groaned beneath them, a symphony of lust that echoed through the room.
Y/N's moans grew louder, her voice hoarse from the constant stream of pleasure that rolled through her. She could feel herself getting closer, her orgasm building like a tidal wave. "Felix," she gasped, her voice a desperate plea.
He responded with a grunt, his own orgasm building. "Come for me," he demanded, his voice thick with need. His hand slid up her back, gripping her shoulder as he slammed into her one last time.
With a scream, she did, her body shuddering with the force of her climax. He followed soon after, his own release a powerful wave that left them both gasping for air. They collapsed onto the bed, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts racing.
For a moment, they lay there, panting, the only sound the thunderous beating of their hearts. Then, slowly, Felix leaned down and kissed her, the taste of her lips sweet and familiar. "You know," he murmured, his voice still ragged, "I think we're going to have a problem."
Y/N smirked beneath the blindfold, her voice filled with satisfaction. "What's that?" she asked, her voice a sultry purr.
"You've unlocked something in me," he said, his eyes meeting hers. "And I don't think I can go back to just being your best friend now."
She leaned into him, her arms wrapping around his neck. "Good," she murmured, her voice a whisper of promise. "Because I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."
Felix's eyes searched hers, the intensity in his gaze unmistakable. "I'm not going anywhere," he vowed, his voice filled with raw emotion. "Not now that I know what we could have."
And with that, they kissed again, sealing their fate. The game was over, the battle won. But their love was just beginning, a love born from the flames of passion and the ashes of their former friendship.
Their bodies tangled together, the heat of their desire never fading. They explored each other's bodies with a newfound sense of urgency, their kisses deep and hungry. It was as if they had been starving for this connection, for this intimacy, and now that they had found it, they couldn't get enough.
Y/N's hands roamed over his back, her nails digging in slightly as he thrust into her, filling her completely. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him deeper.
Felix's teeth grazed her neck, his tongue tracing a path of fire along her collarbone. "Mine," he murmured, his voice a possessive growl that sent shivers down her spine.
"Yours," she breathed, the word a declaration that seemed to resonate through the very air around them.
Their love grew with each passing moment, each touch, each kiss. It was raw and unfiltered, a love that neither of them had ever felt before. And as they lay there, tangled in the aftermath of their passion, they both knew that nothing would ever be the same again.
What makes you tick
The living room was a typical bachelor pad, but with a touch of Y/N's flair. A mismatched array of beanbags, cushions, and blankets surrounded the TV. Posters of their favorite movies and bands covered the walls. The smell of popcorn wafted through the air, and the low murmur of their friends setting up filled the room. Y/N flopped onto the couch, and without a second thought, Bang Chan sat down beside her, pulling her into a side hug.
The film began, and the lights dimmed. She leaned her head on his shoulder, his warmth and scent enveloping her. The scene grew tense, and Y/N found herself yawning. She felt his fingers brush through her hair, soothing and gentle. His breath tickled her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "You tired?" he whispered, and she nodded sleepily. He didn't miss the way she nuzzled closer, her eyes drooping shut.
Her breathing grew even, and his touch grew bolder. His thumb traced the curve of her ear, and she let out a soft moan, her body reacting in ways it never had before. She felt the heat from his fingertips, his touch electrifying. His whispers grew softer, but the message was clear: he cared for her more than just a friend. He knew her better than anyone else, and she craved the comfort that only he could provide.
The room had gone quiet, the others engrossed in the movie. Without a word, Bang Chan gently scooped her up in his arms, carrying her up the stairs to his bedroom. The light was off, and he laid her down on his bed, his heart racing. He hovered above her, unsure if he was dreaming. He had felt something shift between them, a current of desire that was undeniable. He tucked her in, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead before retreating to the door.
The week that followed was a tumultuous dance of unspoken tension. Y/N went about her days with a newfound buzz of excitement, her thoughts often straying to those moments of intimacy. Every time she saw him, she felt a jolt of electricity. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her hair, it was all different now. At work, she found herself daydreaming about his hands on her body, his whispers in her ear, and the way his eyes searched hers for a deeper connection.
SUMMARY^1: During the movie, Bang Chan's tender whispers and touches make Y/N feel something new. He carries her to his room after she falls asleep, laying her on his bed, and the week that follows is filled with unspoken tension as their friendship evolves. Y/N experiences new feelings for him, thinking about his touches throughout her workday.
When game night rolled around again, the anticipation was palpable. She walked into the room, and their eyes met. The air between them crackled with energy. The other Stray Kids members were oblivious to the silent conversation passing between the two of them. They greeted her with their usual banter, but she couldn't focus on anyone but Bang Chan.
He noticed her tension, the way her shoulders were tight, and her eyes slightly glazed with fatigue. He knew she'd had a rough week, and he wanted nothing more than to ease her pain. As they settled in for the night, he casually suggested, "Hey, why don't you sit here?" He patted the spot between his legs on the floor. She hesitated for a moment before sitting down, feeling the warmth of his thighs against her back. He began to massage her shoulders, his strong hands working out the knots she hadn't realized were there.
The pressure was heavenly, and she couldn't help but let out a contented sigh. His touch was familiar, comforting, but tonight it sent sparks down her spine. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear, and murmured, "Does that feel good?" She nodded, unable to find the words to express just how much she needed this. He gently moved her hair aside and continued his ministrations, his fingertips grazing her neck.
Y/N felt her body responding to his touch, and she couldn't ignore it anymore. A warmth pooled in her stomach, and she leaned further into him, her eyes slipping shut. His hands traveled up her neck, his thumbs stroking the base of her skull, eliciting a low moan from her lips.
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the sound she'd made, and she quickly pushed herself to her feet. "I'm just gonna grab a drink," she murmured, hoping the darkness of the room would hide her reaction. She practically bolted to the kitchen, her heart racing. She poured a glass of water, the condensation cold against her trembling hand. She took a deep gulp, trying to cool down her heated skin. The sound of his footsteps on the stairs made her pulse quicken even more.
Bang Chan stepped into the kitchen, his eyes searching for hers. "You okay?" he asked, his deep Australian accent thick with concern. She nodded, avoiding eye contact as she took another sip. "You sure?" His voice was closer now, and she could feel his body heat behind her. She knew he was waiting for an explanation, something to justify the intimate sounds that had filled his room. But she didn't have one, at least not one she was ready to share.
Y/N turned to face him, her heart pounding in her chest. "I'm fine," she said, her voice quieter than she'd intended. "It's just been a long week." She offered a weak smile, hoping it would be enough to deter his questions. But he wasn't buying it. His gaze was intense, his eyes searching hers for the truth she was trying to hide.
"What was that back there?" he asked, his voice low and gruff. "You've had plenty of massages from me before, and you've never reacted like that."
Y/N felt her cheeks burn even hotter. She swallowed hard, trying to come up with a casual response. "It's just a sensitive spot, I guess," she murmured, playing it off. But she knew she couldn't hide from him anymore. Every time he touched her, it was like a match to gasoline, igniting a fire she hadn't realized was there.
Chan leaned in closer, his hand reaching for her neck again. "This one?" he whispered, his thumb brushing over the spot that had made her moan. She froze, her breath hitching in her throat. The intensity in his gaze made it clear he wasn't just teasing anymore. He wanted answers, and she knew she couldn't lie to him.
"Yes," she gasped, the admission leaving her on a trembling exhale. His eyes searched hers, and she could see the curiosity and something else - desire - flickering in their depths. He stepped closer, his chest pressing against her back, trapping her between him and the kitchen counter. His breath was hot on her neck, and she could feel his body responding to her confession.
"What about this nerve?" He whispered, his breath fanning across her sensitive skin, making her shiver. He waited for her response, his thumb tracing small, delicate circles. She nodded, unable to form words as his touch sent waves of pleasure through her. He leaned in, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "Good," he murmured, satisfaction lacing his voice.
"What are your other kinks?" he asked, his voice thick with lust. Y/N's eyes widened in surprise and she stuttered, "W-what do you mean?" She was aware of the risk they were taking, their friends just a room away. But the thrill of being caught only heightened her desire.
"You heard me," he said, his grip on her neck tightening gently, his breath hot against her skin. "Tell me, baby. What makes you tick?" He knew he was pushing boundaries, but he couldn't resist. Her body was like a puzzle he had to solve, and he was eager to put all the pieces together.
Y/N's pulse raced, her mind a whirlwind of emotions and sensations. "I-I don't know," she stuttered, her voice a soft whisper. "You've never asked before."
Chan's grip tightened just a fraction, his thumb still caressing the spot that sent jolts of pleasure through her body. His eyes bore into hers, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. "Well, I'm asking now," he said, his voice a seductive rumble. "And I expect an answer."
Her pussy clenched at the command in his tone, and she couldn't help the moan that slipped out. He noticed her throat bob with the effort of swallowing, and his eyes darkened. He leaned in closer, his breath a warm caress against her cheek. "You like it when I talk cocky, don't you?" His voice was a whisper.
"Y-yes," she stuttered, the word barely a breath. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she felt his hand slide down her chest, cupping her breast through her shirt. Her nipples pebbled against his palm, and she arched into his touch. "Chan," she gasped, her body betraying the need she felt for him.
He chuckled darkly, enjoying the power he had over her. "Is that all?" he teased, his thumb flicking her nipple. "You're so much more than that, baby." He stepped closer, his erection pressing against her lower back. "I want to hear you beg for it."
Y/N leaned into his touch, her body responding to his every move. She felt a rush of brazenness and neediness that she hadn't experienced before. "Please, Chan," she whispered, her voice a shaky plea.
Bang Chan's smirk grew wider, his cockiness evident in his every movement. He loved seeing her this way, desperate and craving his attention. His hand moved from her neck, down her body, and under her shirt, finding her bare skin. His thumb circled her nipple, teasing it into a tight peak. She arched her back, pushing herself into his touch, her breath hitching.
He leaned in closer, his mouth next to her ear. "Keep going," he urged, his voice a seductive rumble. "Tell me what you want." She bit her lip, the words on the tip of her tongue, but she was too shy to say them out loud. He took that as a challenge. He slid his hand down her stomach, reaching the waistband of her sweatpants. With a flick of his wrist, he unbuttoned them, his hand dipping inside to find her already soaking wet panties.
He moved the fabric aside, his fingertips grazing her slick folds. She gasped, her knees threatening to buckle. "Is this it?" he whispered, his voice filled with dark amusement. "You want my hands on you, don't you?" She nodded, unable to form coherent words as he explored her further. His touch was feather-light, but it sent shockwaves through her body.
Y/N felt his fingers slide along her slit, her arousal coating his skin. He groaned in appreciation, his own desire growing with every breathy moan that escaped her lips. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice thick with need. "You've wanted this for a long time, haven't you?".
She couldn't resist the urge to be a little bratty, to push back against his dominance. She leaned back into his chest, a smirk playing on her lips. "What makes you think you know what I want?" she teased, her voice low and sultry.
Chan groaned in frustration, his hand stopping its delicate dance on her skin. "You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N," he warned, his voice a mix of amusement and desire. His grip on her neck tightened, his thumb now pressing into the sensitive spot with more force. "But I'm going to win," he added, his voice a dark promise.
With surprising speed, he spun her around to face him, pinning her against the counter. His eyes searched hers for consent, and she nodded, her breath coming in short, needy gasps. He claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving deep as if to taste her very soul. His hand left her neck, only to find its way to her throat, squeezing just enough to make her moans come out as whimpers. His other hand reached down to cup her mound, the pressure of his palm making her hips buck.
He pushed her sweatpants and underwear down, leaving her bare to his gaze. His eyes raked over her, taking in the sight of her wet folds and the desire glazed in her eyes. He stepped back just enough to pull his shirt over his head, revealing his taut abs and broad shoulders. Y/N took in the sight of him, feeling a mix of awe and desire.
Without breaking eye contact, Bang Chan unbuckled his belt and slid his pants down, freeing his thick erection. It bobbed against her stomach, leaving a trail of precum. He stepped closer, aligning their bodies so that his cock rested at the entrance of her pussy. "I've wanted this for so long," he growled, his eyes dark with need.
Y/N could feel the pressure building, her body begging for release. She nodded frantically, her eyes never leaving his. "Me too," she admitted, her voice a hoarse whisper.
Without wasting another moment, he thrust into her, filling her completely. A scream threatened to rip from her throat, but he was quick to silence her, his hand cupping her mouth as he pushed her head back. She bit down on his palm, the pain mixing with pleasure. He groaned, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm. Each thrust sent waves of ecstasy through her body, her walls tightening around him.
Her eyes watered as he began to choke her, just enough to make her gasp for breath. The lack of oxygen made her head spin, but it also heightened her arousal. His other hand slid down to her throat, gripping it firmly, the pressure making her moans vibrate against his hand. The room spun around them, their bodies moving in perfect sync, a dance of dominance and submission.
He slammed into her again and again, her legs trembling as she tried to keep herself upright. She could feel his cock thickening inside her, the friction driving her closer and closer to the edge. His grip on her throat tightened, and she knew she was close, her orgasm just out of reach. "Cum for me, baby," he growled, his voice a low rumble in her ear. "Let me feel you come all over me."
Y/N's eyes rolled back in her head as she let out a muffled cry, her body shaking with the force of her climax. She clamped down around him, her pussy pulsing with pleasure. He groaned, his own orgasm following quickly after, filling her completely. They remained there for a moment, their bodies entwined, both trying to catch their breath.
Slowly, he released her throat, his hand moving to cup her cheek gently. He kissed her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, tasting her desire. "You're so beautiful," he murmured against her lips. She blushed, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, and yet so cherished.
The sound of laughter from the living room brought them back to reality. The others were oblivious to the intimate scene that had just unfolded in the kitchen. They pulled away, both of them trying to compose themselves. "Did they...?" Y/N's voice trailed off, her cheeks burning with the possibility of their friends having heard.
"Doesn't matter," Chan said, his voice a gruff whisper. "This is between us now." He helped her fix her clothes, his eyes never leaving hers. They shared a silent understanding that their relationship had shifted. The line between friendship and desire had been irrevocably crossed.
They walked back to the living room, their faces flushed, their hearts racing. The moment they entered, the room fell silent, all eyes on them. The tension was palpable, and Y/N could feel the heat in her cheeks. The members looked at them with knowing smirks, the air thick with the scent of their passion.
"So, what's the verdict?" Hyunjin asked with a playful wink, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Did you two finally confess your love over a pint of ice cream?" The room erupted in laughter, and Y/N felt her face turn scarlet. Bang Chan shot him a glare, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. He knew his friends wouldn't let them get away without some teasing.
"We're just friends," Y/N managed to say, her voice wavering slightly. But the smirks on their faces told her they weren't fooled. They had heard the faint sounds of pleasure that had escaped from the kitchen, and they knew there was more to the story. The room grew quieter, and she could feel their curiosity burning into her.
Chan stepped in, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Yeah, we were just... catching up," he said, his eyes locking with hers, silently telling her not to give in to the embarrassment. She took a deep breath, letting his presence ground her. "Why don't we get back to the movie?" she suggested, trying to change the subject.
The rest of the night was a blur of stolen glances and accidental brushes of hands. Y/N could feel the electricity between them, and she knew the others noticed. But no one said a word, allowing them the space to navigate their newfound feelings.