Broken Kings

Obsessive!Felix x Reader

Warnings: obsessive behavior , deep obsession , emotional manipulation , unhealthy attachment

At Saint Jude’s Academy, the devils wear angel faces. Felix was supposed to be my downfall—instead, he decided I was his only religion. And a broken king never lets his prey escape.

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Part 10

Six months of flawless compliance had left a dangerous residue of safety in the air of Saint Jude’s Academy. To the casual observer, the winter thaw had simply brought the return of pristine lawns, the soft hum of luxury sedans idling in the limestone courtyard, and the undisturbed rotation of the school’s elite hierarchy.

The scandal that had nearly brought down the Lee family asset portfolio had been neatly buried beneath layers of corporate restructuring and administrative nondisclosure agreements. The hierarchy looked identical to the one that had ruled the institution for a century. But beneath the surface, the structural foundation was frozen.

Y/N adjusted the strap of her leather bag as she stood on the second-floor gallery, her gaze tracking the student body moving below like an army of well-dressed ants. Six months ago, she had been a variable meant to be eliminated — a scholarship girl caught in the jaws of eight predatory heirs. Now, she was the silent axis upon which the entire court turned. In her blazer pocket rested a small, heavy silver token. It was the encryption key to a physical hardware drive tucked safely inside a high-security private vault downtown.

Inside that drive lay the financial sins, the tax evasions, and the cross-border clearance violations of every family represented in the Student Council. It was the ultimate leverage.

The leash that kept the wolves from biting. "You're analyzing the perimeter again," a low, smooth voice murmured from the shadows of the arched doorway behind her. Y/N didn't flinch. She had grown accustomed to the distinct, heavy shift in the atmosphere that always accompanied his presence. Hwang Hyunjin stepped into the pale morning light, a charcoal sketch pad tucked under his arm. His silver hair had been replaced by a deep, glossy black that made his sharp features look even more dramatic, almost vampiric.

His dark eyes studied her profile with a detached, artistic reverence—a gaze that had shifted from arrogant amusement to a quiet, protective fascination over the months. "The perimeter is quiet, Hyunjin," Y/N replied without looking at him, her voice entirely devoid of emotion. "It’s too quiet," Hyunjin corrected softly, leaning his hip against the stone balustrade beside her. He tapped his charcoal pencil against his thumb. 

"Seungmin hasn't logged a single complaint about the arts budget in three weeks. Han Jisung hasn't thrown a tantrum in the lounge since midterm exams. Even Lee Know has stopped playing his little psychological games with the underclassmen."

He paused, his eyes shifting down to the courtyard where a black sedan had just opened its doors. "When wolves stop fighting over the meat, it doesn't mean they've become civilized, sweetheart," Hyunjin whispered, his voice dropping an octave as his eyes darkened. "It means they're waiting for the shepherd to look away." Y/N tracked his gaze. Stepping out of the vehicle was Lee Felix. Even from the second floor, his presence was suffocating. His pristine blonde hair caught the morning sun, his tailored uniform without a single wrinkle.

He moved with a light, predatory grace that made the surrounding students instinctively scatter, clearing a five-foot radius around him without him ever having to utter a word. He looked every bit the crown prince he had been born to be. But then, as if sensing the exact coordinates of her gaze, Felix stopped dead in the center of the gravel path. He tilted his head back, his dark, dilated eyes locking instantly onto Y/N’s silhouette on the high balcony.

The cold, aristocratic mask he wore for the world melted in a fraction of a second, replaced by an expression of pure, unhinged devotion so intense it was almost visceral. He didn't wave. He didn't smile. He simply stared up at her, his chest rising and falling in heavy, uneven breaths, silently offering his entire existence to her before he had even crossed the threshold of the building.

"Look at him," Hyunjin murmured, a faint, grim smile touching his lips as he watched the exchange. "Six months of total abstinence. You haven't let him touch your hand since the night in the valve room, have you?" "He doesn't need to touch me to know his place," Y/N said coldly. "He's a ticking time bomb, Y/N," Hyunjin warned, his tone turning unusually serious. "You think you've conditioned him. You think because he starved for your approval during his administrative exile, he’s safe. But a beast that fasts for too long doesn't become a pet. It just becomes desperate enough to swallow the cage whole." Y/N turned her head, her eiskalt gaze meeting Hyunjin’s.

"Then I’ll just have to tighten the leash." What Y/N didn't see, however, was the shadow lurking in the glass-walled study terminal across the courtyard. Kim Seungmin sat behind his sleek laptop, his fingers resting motionless over the keyboard.

His wire-rimmed glasses reflected the ambient light of three separate monitoring streams. For six months, he had tolerated the humiliation of her absolute rule. He had watched his meticulously calculated data coup collapse because he had failed to factor in one volatile, illogical variable: Felix’s absolute willingness to be ruined by her. But mathematicians didn't abandon a theorem just because it failed once. They adjusted the parameters.

"The synchronization pattern is consistent," a quiet, detached voice spoke from the corner of the darkened room. Yang Jeongin stood by the window, idly tossing a silver stylus in the air. His youthful face was calm, but his sharp, analytical eyes were entirely devoid of warmth.

"She never connects her personal terminal to the school network anymore. The master ledger isn't digital, Seungmin. She’s too smart for a remote hack." "I know," Seungmin replied, his voice flat, rhythmic, and terrifyingly calm. "She learned from our mistakes. She’s keeping the physical drive somewhere off-campus. A blind spot where our family lawyers can't reach it."

He reached up, adjusting his glasses as a cold, calculated smirk finally fractured his clinical features. "But she has to access it eventually to verify the encryption certificates. Every ninety days, the server requires a manual handshake. And the token she uses to authorize that handshake is on her person." The door to the study terminal clicked open, and Han Jisung stepped inside, slamming his textbook onto the table. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw clenching tightly as his gaze darted around the room with raw, paranoid energy.

Candles in the dark

Warning: This story deals with heavy themes , including terminal illness , the death of children and intense grief. Please read with care

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Part 2

Three weeks had bled into a blur of existence. Jisung was no longer a visitor, he was a fixture. He had become a quiet, steady presence in the ward, learning the intricate, heartbreaking rhythm of lives lived in the shadow of the inevitable.

He spent his days on the floor, his knees stiff from the linoleum, building cardboard fortresses or simply sitting with the children, his acoustic guitar resting against his leg as he played soft, meandering melodies, notes that didn't demand applause, but simply offered comfort.

But the hospice was a garden where things grew, and a garden where things withered.

It happened on a Tuesday. The morning had been deceptive—calm, bathed in an amber, golden light that made the world feel solid and safe. Jisung was in the solarium, helping a young girl named Elara piece together a complex puzzle of a distant, shimmering nebula.

Elara was small, her movements fragile, but her laugh had been the brightest thing in the room for days.

Then, the frequency of the ward shifted. It was a sound Jisung had come to recognize in his marrow, a sharp, frantic pulse from a monitor that wasn't just a beep; it was a desperate, panicked staccato.

Then came the scream.

It wasn't a movie scream. It was a raw, primal sound, the sound of a soul being ripped from its moorings. It tore through the sterile air, echoing off the high ceilings, turning the blood in Jisung’s veins to ice. He stood frozen as the room erupted in motion. Y/N and two other nurses rushed in, their faces masks of practiced, professional grief.

Jisung felt the world tilt.

He backed away, his hands flying to his ears, but the sound was everywhere—a haunting, jagged melody of loss that seemed to vibrate through the very walls of the building. He watched from the periphery as the chaos subsided into a heavy, suffocating silence.

Hours later, the ward returned to a hollow, echoing stillness. He found Y/N standing at the entrance of a darkened, narrow corridor he hadn't noticed before. She looked exhausted, her face pale, her eyes rimmed with the redness of a long, hidden cry.

"Come with me," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

She led him into the 'Hall of Flickering Echoes.' It was a long, limestone passage lined with hundreds of small, glass-encased alcoves. Inside each alcove stood a single, unlit candle for every child currently under their care, their names inscribed on brass plates beneath.

But at the far end of the hall, there were rows of shelves filled with candles that were perpetually lit, a glowing, golden sea of remembrance for those who had reached the end of their journey.

Y/N walked to a small, new alcove near the front. She took a box of matches, her fingers trembling, and struck one. The flame flared, casting long, dancing shadows against the stone walls. She touched the flame to the wick of a candle bearing the name: Elara.

The small flame caught, steady and bright.

"Every child who leaves us gets a place here," Y/N said, her voice trembling as she stared at the glowing sea of light at the end of the hall. "We never let the memory flicker out. We never let the silence win."

Jisung felt a grief he hadn't yet named, a heavy, crushing weight that seemed to expand in his chest until it was almost impossible to breathe. He looked at the hundreds of tiny flames, each one a life, each one a story, each one a universe that had vanished.

"How do you stand it?" he whispered, his voice breaking. "How do you do this and then wake up and do it again?"

Y/N turned to him, the golden light reflecting in her tear-filled eyes. "I don't stand it, Jisung. I break. I break every single time. But the reality of their lives—the sheer, beautiful, painful reality—is that they lived. Look at them." She gestured to the wall of light. "Even in the dark, they are still burning. That is why we are here. To witness that they were here, and that they mattered."

Jisung stood in the silence, the flickering light casting dancing silhouettes across his face. He felt the gravity of it—the terrifying, sacred responsibility of being a witness to a life that had ended too soon.

He didn't turn away.

He stayed there, watching the flame for Elara, listening to the soft, rhythmic hum of the hospice, and finally letting himself break, letting the tears fall until the only thing left in the room was the quiet, burning truth of what it meant to be human.

The next morning, the air in the hospice felt different. It was cleaner, sharper, the kind of morning that demanded honesty. Jisung arrived before the city had fully woken up, his movements quieter, more deliberate. He carried a battered, leather-bound notebook, not a tool for his label, but a sanctuary for his thoughts.

He walked into the solarium and found Hana, the girl with the large, paper-winged bird she was always sketching. She was staring out the window, her marker hovering over the page.

Jisung pulled up a chair. He didn't start with small talk; he didn't try to distract her from the weight of the previous day. He leaned in, his voice soft, an intimate inquiry into a world most people were too afraid to visit.

"Hana?" he asked. "If you could tell the world one thing—one thing they don't seem to understand—what would it be?"

Hana looked up, her eyes wide, capturing a wisdom that shouldn't have belonged to a child. "I’d tell them that even when the light is small, it’s still there. You just have to look hard enough."

Jisung scribbled the words down. His hand was steady now.

He moved to the next child, and the next, spending the entire day moving from bed to bed. He asked Jae-in what the sky looked like from the perspective of a comet. He asked Min-jun about the color of a sunset he only saw through glass.

He sat with them, asking about the taste of their favorite meals, the texture of the grass they missed, and the sounds of the world they heard through their windows.

He wasn't writing a song. He was documenting a truth. He was keeping the flame alive.

As Y/N watched him from across the room, she saw the shift. The idol was gone. In his place was a man who had finally, painfully, begun to wake up to the gravity of being alive. She felt a profound sense of connection to him, not as a fan, but as a fellow traveler in the dark.

"You’re listening differently," she remarked when she finally approached him near the end of the day.

Jisung looked up from his notebook, his eyes clear and hauntingly beautiful in the fading afternoon light. "I think I’ve been living my life with my eyes closed," he admitted. "I spent so much time worrying about what I wanted to say, that I never stopped to ask what the world, the real world—was trying to say back."

"And now?" Y/N asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Now," Jisung said, a quiet resolve settling into his posture, "I want to carry the weight. I want to make sure that even when they’re gone, the light they left behind isn't forgotten. They are the stories that matter."

In the quiet of the hospice, the song of the ward seemed to change. It was no longer a melody of loss, it was a steady, defiant anthem of existence. Jisung looked at the notebook, then at the children, then at the glowing, flickering reflection of the candlelit hall down the corridor, and for the first time in his life, he didn't feel the need to run.

Candles in the dark

Warning: This story deals with heavy themes , including terminal illness , the death of children and intense grief. Please read with care

Please be aware that this story is not a romance. It is a deep, character-driven exploration of grief, resilience, and the fragility of life. This is a short story consisting of only a few chapters, focusing not on relationships, but rather on the raw, emotional transformation of the members as they witness the profound bravery of children in a hospice setting. It is a journey about finding light in the darkest of places.

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When global K-pop idol Jisung is forced to visit a hospice as a PR stunt, he expects a hollow encounter but instead finds a profound, life-altering truth among children facing their final days. Alongside his bandmates, he undergoes a painful yet beautiful transformation, shifting from an empty performer to a dedicated witness of human resilience. Together, they turn their music into a bridge between the living and the fading, culminating in a historic concert that transforms a stadium into a sea of remembrance. This story is an emotional journey about finding purpose in grief and ensuring that even the smallest lights are never extinguished.

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Part 1

The lobby of the St. Jude Hospice did not smell like a hospital. It smelled of faded paper, floor wax, and the metallic, ozone-heavy scent of an oncoming storm. It was a place where time didn't flow; it pooled in the corners like shadows, thick and stagnant.

Jisung stood in the center of the atrium, feeling entirely too large and entirely too fragile. He was buried deep within the folds of an oversized, slate-grey coat, his hood pulled low to shield a face that had graced a million billboards.

To the world, he was the untouchable star, a kinetic force of music and light. To himself, in the hollow of his chest, he was a man suffocating in the vacuum of his own existence.

His breath was shallow, hitching in the cage of his ribs. His hands, those slender, calloused instruments that could command a stage and set a stadium on fire, were clamped into white-knuckled fists inside his pockets to hide the rhythmic, violent tremors of his anxiety.

It was a tremor that felt like a dying battery, a flicker of electricity fighting to stay alive.

He wasn't here by choice. His agency had branded this visit a "humanizing PR stunt"—a calculated, clinical maneuver to scrub the rumors of his "instability" from the tabloid headlines. They didn't understand that his instability wasn't a choice, it was a roaring, wildfires-in-the-lungs anxiety he had been trying to outrun for a decade.

He was a man who had sold his internal peace for the applause of strangers, only to find the silence that followed the applause too terrifying to bear.

"You’re early."

The voice was cool, precise, and entirely unimpressed. Jisung flinched, his heart stuttering against his breastbone. He turned to find a woman standing by the nurses’ station. She was Y/N.

There was no artifice about her, no heavy makeup, no performative smile, just the utilitarian grace of a woman who existed in the proximity of the infinite. Her hair was pulled back into a messy, functional knot, and her scrubs were a soft, muted blue. But it was her eyes that held him, they were steady, weary, and deeply observant, as if she were scanning him for cracks.

"I... I was told to be here by three," Jisung managed to rasp. His voice felt thin, a fragile thread of sound that seemed completely inadequate in the hallowed, heavy air of the building.

"I’m the head nurse on this floor," she said, her tone professional, neither inviting nor dismissive. She didn't stare at him as if he were a commodity to be bought or sold. She looked at him as if he were simply another person struggling to remain upright.

"Min-jun is ready for you. But before you go in, understand something, Jisung. This isn't a film set. There are no retakes, no lighting adjustments, no edited versions of reality here. These children aren't your fans; they are kids who have spent more time navigating machines than playgrounds. If you come in here with a script, they will know. If you are going to walk into that room, make sure you are actually there. Don't bring a ghost."

She didn't wait for him to apologize or explain. She simply turned, her soft-soled shoes making no sound as she led him through the labyrinth of the ward.

The walk was an education in the quiet geography of heartbreak.

Jisung caught glimpses of rooms that felt like sacred museums of existence: a collection of smooth, colorful river rocks on a windowsill, a poster of a space shuttle taped crookedly to a wall, the soft, rhythmic, life-sustaining wheeze of oxygen concentrators that sounded like the mechanical lungs of the building itself.

When they reached Room 412, Min-jun was propped up against a mountain of pillows. His frame was alarmingly slight, his skin translucent under the harsh, clinical glare of the ceiling lights.

But his eyes, the moment they landed on Jisung, they ignited with a raw, brilliant, and painful joy. "Jisung-hyung?" the boy whispered, his voice breathless.

Jisung stepped forward, the mask he had perfected for years, the one that projected effortless cool and detached perfection, shattering into a thousand jagged pieces.

He didn't offer a pose. He didn't wait for the agency-approved lighting to hit his face. He dropped into the chair beside the bed, his shoulders slumping, the heavy weight of his own existence finally yielding to the gravity of the room.

"I'm here," Jisung said, his voice raw. He reached out, hesitantly, and took the boy’s cold, thin hand. The anxiety that usually clawed at his throat suddenly seemed to recede, silenced by the fragile, rhythmic rise and fall of the boy's chest.

Broken Kings

Obsessive!Felix x Reader

Warnings: obsessive behavior , deep obsession , emotional manipulation , unhealthy attachment

At Saint Jude’s Academy, the devils wear angel faces. Felix was supposed to be my downfall—instead, he decided I was his only religion. And a broken king never lets his prey escape.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Part 9

The morning recess bell didn't ring; it tolled like a funeral knell through the limestone arches of Saint Jude’s Academy.

The fog had thickened, turning the grand Gothic courtyard into a landscape of shifting grey silhouettes. Hundreds of elite students spilled out of the lecture halls, laughing and gossiping, entirely oblivious to the fact that the invisible tectonic plates beneath their feet were shifting.

In the center of the chaos stood Y/N, the absolute eye of the hurricane.

Surrounding her, five of the school’s most dangerous heirs stood like a Praetorian Guard, their physical presence carving out a wide, reverent perimeter that no ordinary student dared to cross. The hierarchy was dead, but a dictatorship of necessity had taken its place.

"Ten minutes," Bang Chan muttered, checking his watch. His posture had completely changed. The exhausted, defeated leader had vanished; in his place was the ruthless strategist who had ruled Saint Jude’s for three years. He looked at Y/N, his jaw set. "The administration wing closes its biometric locks during recess, but my master keycard still works on the secondary maintenance doors. I’ll clear the corridor. Changbin, you’re with me."

Changbin didn't say a word. He simply rolled his shoulders, a dark, heavy intensity settling into his features as he slung his gym bag over his shoulder. He was the wall. Anyone trying to intercept Chan would have to go through him first.

"And what about our little artistic renaissance?" Hyunjin purred, stepping into Y/N’s line of sight. He reached up, his long, elegant fingers adjusting the silk scarf around his neck, his dark eyes gleaming with a manic, beautiful violence. "How do we ensure the math boy doesn't just look up from his precious screen and see us coming?"

"Leave the distraction to me and Jisung," Lee Know said, a chillingly calm smirk cutting across his face. He pulled his hands from his pockets, tapping a rhythm against his thigh. "Jisung is currently in the broadcasting booth. He’s paranoid enough to trigger a full fire drill or leak an explicit audio file of the disciplinary board if I give him the word. We’ll turn the main lounge into a circus."

Y/N listened to them coordinate, her mind operating at a terrifyingly high frequency. It was a flawless symphony of elite power, and she was the conductor.

But then, a heavy, suffocating warmth bloomed right behind her.

Felix stepped up until his chest was a mere millimeter from her shoulder blades. He didn't touch her—he was respecting the razor-sharp boundaries she had drawn—but his deep, resonant breathing vibrated right through the fabric of her uniform jacket. He leaned down, his lips hovering near the shell of her ear, his low, honeyed baritone dropping into a register so dark it felt like a physical weight.

"You haven't given me my order yet, sweetheart," Felix whispered, his voice thick with a profound, dizzying adoration that made her pulse spike. "The others get to move the pieces, but I want to be the one who breaks them for you. Tell me where to strike."

Y/N turned her head just enough to meet his gaze. His dark eyes were dilated, burning with a frantic, toxic devotion that bordered on religious fervor. He was a ruined king, starving for her command, completely willing to tear down his own legacy just to see her smile.

"The server mainframe," Y/N murmured back, her voice an icy contrast to his heat. "It runs on a localized backup liquid-cooling system in the basement behind the legal archive. If the pressure drops, Seungmin’s master tablet will lose its live synchronization with the family ledgers for exactly ninety seconds. That’s our window."

Felix’s breath hitched, a wild, ecstatic smile slowly spreading across his porcelain face. "Ninety seconds of darkness. I'll give you a lifetime of it if you ask."

"Just give me ninety seconds, Felix," she countered sharply. "Go."

Felix executed a slow, mocking bow, his eyes locked on hers until the very last second, before he vanished into the swirling grey fog, moving toward the basement stairs like a beautiful, lethal ghost.

The third floor of the administration wing was suffocatingly quiet.

While the distant, muffled sound of a chaotic uproar began to echo from the student lounge below—courtesy of Lee Know and a frantic Han Jisung over the PA system—Y/N slipped through the heavy mahogany doors of the Student Council Headquarters.

The room was vast, lined with leather-bound legal volumes and ancient oil paintings of the school's founders. Sitting at the end of the grand conference table, bathed in the pale light of a massive tablet terminal, was Kim Seungmin.

Beside him stood Yang Jeongin, the youngest, his face completely expressionless as his fingers flew across a secondary interface.

Seungmin didn't look up when the door opened. "You're late, Y/N. The data sync is already at eighty-four percent. By the time the recess ends, the corporate clearances of the Hwang and Seo families will be permanently logged under my family's compliance portfolio."

"The sync isn't going to finish, Seungmin," Y/N said, her voice echoing off the high ceilings with a freezing, absolute authority.

Seungmin finally paused. He adjusted his glasses, his analytical eyes tracking her as she walked down the length of the table. He didn't look angry; he looked disappointed, like a scientist looking at a flawed specimen.

"You brought Chan and the others back into the courtyard," Seungmin murmured, his voice flat. "A sentimental error. They are relic variables. Felix is a broken weapon. You had the chance to rule this court with clean logic, and instead, you chose a messy coalition."

"I didn't choose a coalition," Y/N replied, stopping at the edge of the table, looking down at his glowing screen. "I chose a clean sweep."

Suddenly, the screen of the master tablet flashed an aggressive, bright amber. A sharp, rhythmic warning beep began to chime through the silent room.

CRITICAL ERROR: COOLING PRESSURE DROP. REBOOT IN 90 SECONDS.

Seungmin’s fingers froze. For the first time since she had met him, a microscopic fracture of surprise crossed his perfect, clinical features. He looked at the error code, then looked up at her, his jaw tightening.

"Felix," Seungmin hissed, his voice losing its calm cadence.

"Felix," Y/N confirmed with a cold, triumphant smile.

Beside him, Jeongin let out a low, soft chuckle, stepping back from the terminal and crossing his arms. The youngest member of the circle looked at Y/N with a sudden, dark appreciation. "The logic just broke, hyung. She disconnected the baseline."

"Jeongin, override the manual lock," Seungmin commanded sharply, his eyes burning behind his lenses.

"I can't," Jeongin whispered, his innocent smile bleeding back onto his face, though his eyes remained entirely cold. "The backup lines were cut from the inside. Felix didn't just drop the pressure... he flooded the valve room. He’s currently standing in three inches of industrial coolant just to keep the manual lever down."

Y/N’s heart gave a violent, complicated thud. He flooded the room. Felix was destroying his own family's secondary hardware, exposing himself to toxic chemical runoff, completely unbothered by the damage, simply because she had told him to give her ninety seconds. The sheer, terrifying scale of his madness was breathtaking.

"The encryption drive, Seungmin," Y/N demanded, reaching out her hand across the mahogany table. "Give it to me, or I let Chan and Changbin through that door. And we both know Changbin doesn't care about data integrity when he’s angry."

Seungmin stared at her hand. The countdown on the tablet screen was ticking down ruthlessly.

45... 44... 43...

He realized, with the cold finality of a mathematician who had miscalculated a decimal, that he had lost. He hadn't underestimated her intellect; he had underestimated the absolute, unhinged compliance of the monster he had used her to break. Felix wasn't a liability anymore—he was her executioner.

With a slow, rigid movement, Seungmin reached into his inner pocket, pulled out a small, gold-plated hardware key, and slid it across the polished wood.

Y/N snatched it up, her fingers locking around the metal.

At that exact moment, the 90 seconds expired. The tablet screen went completely black, the live synchronization link severed forever. The corporate clearances of the eight families remained safe, the ledger dissolved into a useless cipher.

Five minutes later, Y/N stood in the damp, freezing corridor of the basement level.

The air smelled sharply of chemicals and rust. She pushed open the heavy iron door of the valve room, her boots splashing into a shallow pool of neon-green liquid coolant that covered the concrete floor.

Standing in the center of the dark, industrial space, his hands resting on the massive iron wheel of the main pressure valve, was Lee Felix.

His expensive uniform jacket was discarded on a nearby pipe, his white shirt damp with sweat and chemical mist, clinging to the sharp lines of his torso. His blonde hair was disheveled, falling wildly across his forehead. He looked completely ruined, a fallen angel standing in the center of a mechanical purgatory.

But the moment the heavy door creaked open and his dark eyes found her silhouette, the exhaustion vanished.

Felix let go of the valve, his boots splashing through the toxic puddle as he stumbled toward her. He stopped just inches away, his chest heaving, his breathing shallow and ragged. His hands were shaking violently, his skin pale from the cold, but his face was lit up with a manic, beautiful adoration that was almost blinding.

"Did I do it right?" he breathed, his deep baritone cracking with raw emotion, his voice echoing off the concrete walls. He looked down at her face, his eyes wide, pleading, desperate for a crumb of her approval. "Did I give you your ninety seconds, Y/N?"

Y/N looked at him. She looked at his trembling hands, the chemical stains on his clothes, the utter, absolute devotion in his eyes. He had dismantled his own empire, betrayed his circle, and flooded his lungs with chemical fumes, all for a girl who had explicitly told him she hated him.

Slowly, deliberately, Y/N reached up. For the first time since the courtyard, she let her fingers lightly brush against the cold, damp skin of his cheek.

Felix let out a low, shuddering sob at the touch, his eyes closing instantly as he leaned his face heavily into her palm, his own trembling hand coming up to lock around her wrist—not to possess her, but to anchor himself to the only reality he had left.

"You did perfectly, Felix," Y/N whispered, her voice a soft, velvet execution.

Felix opened his eyes, his gaze burning into hers with a toxic, beautiful love that felt like a permanent death sentence. "Then command me again, sweetheart," he begged, his lips brushing against the skin of her palm. "Keep me in your cage forever."

The cold, neon-green industrial coolant seeped through the soles of Y/N’s boots, but the chilling sensation was completely swallowed by the burning, toxic intensity radiating from the boy collapsed into her palm.

Felix’s breath hitched against her skin, his lips pressing a desperate, reverent kiss into the center of her hand. He was trembling so violently she could feel the vibration of his heartbeat rattling up her own arm. The master architect, the crown prince of Saint Jude’s, was entirely undone, reduced to a beautifully broken weapon waiting for his next directive.

Y/N let her thumb lightly trace the sharp edge of his cheekbone, her eyes narrowing with a calculating, freezing clarity. She could feel the heavy, dangerous pulse of his submission. It was a terrifying power—holding the leash of a monster who would gladly tear the world apart just to hear her call his name.

"Stand up, Felix," she commanded softly, her voice echoing off the damp concrete walls.

He obeyed instantly. His boots splashed through the chemical pool as he straightened his posture, his dark eyes wide and unblinking, fixed entirely on her face. He was drowning in his own adoration, entirely unbothered by the toxic mist clinging to his clothes.

"Seungmin surrendered the master ledger," Y/N said, holding up the gold-plated hardware key. The metallic surface glinted under the dim, flickering basement bulb. "The data sync is permanently dead. The families are secure, but the inner circle is completely exposed. They know we have the key."

Felix’s lips curved into a sharp, lethal smirk, the angelic facade bleeding back over his unhinged devotion. He reached out, his long, damp fingers carefully wrapping around the outer edge of her hand, steering clear of her boundaries but making sure she could feel his presence.

"They won't move against you, sweetheart," Felix murmured, his deep baritone dropping into that guttural, resonant register that vibrated through the floorboards. "Chan is too busy calculating the fallout. Hyunjin is too proud to admit he needs us. And Seungmin... Seungmin just learned what happens when he miscalculates a variable. You own the board now."

"We own it," Y/N corrected smoothly, her eyes locking onto his with a brilliant, frozen intensity. "But we have to show them the new rules."

Ten minutes later, the double oak doors of the Student Council Headquarters swung open with a violent, echoing crash.

The chaos in the main lounge had subsided into a dead, terrified silence. The rest of the inner circle had gathered in the grand room, their faces illuminated by the dim, stormy afternoon light bleeding through the high stained-glass windows.

Bang Chan sat at the head of the mahogany table, his head in his hands, his uniform wrinkled. Han Jisung was pacing near the fireplace, his breathing shallow, his fingers frantically typing into his phone. Seo Changbin stood near the door like a silent gargoyle, his arms crossed over his massive chest, his eyes tracking the hallway.

Sitting in the corner, his laptop closed and his expression entirely vacant, was Kim Seungmin. Beside him, Yang Jeongin was lazily spinning a silver stylus between his fingers, a small, dark smile playing on his lips.

When Y/N stepped into the room, the atmosphere instantly froze.

But it wasn't just her presence that made Jisung stop pacing. It was the silhouette walking directly behind her.

Lee Felix stepped into the room like a ghost returning from a slaughter. He had thrown his damp, ruined uniform jacket carelessly over one shoulder, his white shirt still partially unbuttoned, his blonde hair wild and damp. He didn't look at Chan. He didn't look at Seungmin. He walked with a light, predatory grace, stopping exactly one step behind Y/N’s right shoulder—a loyal, devastating enforcer protecting his queen.

"It’s over," Chan said, his voice ragged as he looked up, his eyes darting from Y/N to the gold key tightly gripped in her fist. "The board is clear. The data didn't leak to the external servers. We’re safe."

"You're safe because I allowed it, Chan," Y/N said, her voice cutting through the vast room like a scalpel. She walked down the length of the table, her boots leaving faint, damp tracks on the expensive Persian rug. She didn't sit down. She stood at the head of the table, tossing the gold hardware key onto the polished wood with a loud, metallic clink.

"The ledger stays with me," she announced, her gaze scanning the five boys before her. "Every transaction, every personal asset allocation, every legal loophole your families have used for the last three years—it's mine. If any of you—Jisung, Seungmin, even you, Chan—try to alter the hierarchy of this school again, the files go directly to the federal audit board."

Jisung swallowed hard, his face turning an asymmetric shade of pale. He opened his mouth to argue, but before a single word could escape his throat, Felix stepped forward just a fraction.

The movement was microscopic, but the sudden, terrifying flash of violence in Felix’s dark eyes made Jisung freeze instantly. Felix smiled—a slow, angelic, and thoroughly psychotic expression that promised absolute ruin to anyone who dared to breathe too loudly in her presence.

"She spoke, Jisung," Felix whispered, his deep baritone vibrating through the mahogany table. "I suggest you memorize the cadence of her voice. You're going to be hearing it a lot."

"Well, look at that. The curtain finally fell."

Hwang Hyunjin stepped out from the shadows of the rear gallery, a glass of dark liquor in his hand. His silver hair was perfectly dry now, his dark eyes tracking Y/N with a look of profound, theatrical worship. He walked over, dropping a heavy, leather-bound document onto the table right beside the gold key.

"The arts department funding has been restored," Hyunjin murmured, his eyes locked onto Y/N’s face, ignoring Felix’s dangerous glare entirely. "And I took liberty of filing a formal request with the scholarship board. Your renewal is guaranteed for the next four years, sweetheart. No audits. No conditions."

"Thank you, Hyunjin," Y/N said quietly, her face a mask of freezing calm.

From the corner of the room, Lee Know let out a low, amused chuckle. He stood up from his perch against the bookshelf, his sharp, cat-like eyes gleaming with a wicked brilliance as he looked at the shattered remains of their elite circle.

"The math boy is quiet today," Lee Know purred, walking over to tap Seungmin on the shoulder. "What's the matter, Seungmin? Did the concrete girl ruin your spreadsheet?"

Seungmin didn't look up, his fingers tightly clenching the edge of his closed laptop. He had lost the crown before he could even place it on his head, undone by the one variable he had dismissed as a emotional weakness—Felix’s absolute, unhinged willingness to be ruined by her.

Y/N turned her back on the table, walking slowly toward the massive stained-glass windows overlooking the stormy courtyard. She looked out at the rain, her chest rising and falling with a peaceful, steady rhythm. The cage was dismantled. Her family was safe. She had conquered the wolves of Saint Jude's and turned their leader into her shadow.

A soft, familiar warmth bloomed right behind her shoulder blades.

Felix stepped up to the glass beside her, his dark eyes tracking her reflection in the window. He didn't touch her. He simply stood there, his long fingers restlessly twirling the broken hair tie he had retrieved from his desk, his breathing shallow and heavy with that permanent, aching adoration.

"Where do we go from here, Y/N?" Felix whispered, his deep voice thick with a profound, dizzying love that felt like a beautiful execution. "Tell me what we're building next."

Y/N didn't turn around. She kept her eyes fixed on the rain, a small, dark, and beautifully frozen smile finally touching her lips.

Six months later, Saint Jude’s Academy had returned to a state of flawless, terrifying equilibrium.

The winter snow had melted, leaving the ancient stone facades of the campus glistening under a crisp, pale spring sun. To the outside world, the academy remained the premier cradle for the global elite. The students still moved in expensive, whispered clusters, and the administration still operated with clockwork efficiency.

But inside the grand, high-ceilinged corridors, everyone knew the axis had permanently shifted.

Y/N walked down the center of the main hallway, her textbooks held casually at her side. She no longer needed to clutch them like a shield. The students she passed—children of billionaires, politicians, and oil tycoons—instantly quieted, parting the way for her with a reverent, terrified urgency. There were no more snickers, no more malicious whispers, and no more anonymous threats.

She was no longer the scholarship student trying to survive the jungle. She was the one who kept the predators fed. The library’s private balcony was bathed in the warm gold of the late afternoon light. Y/N sat at a wrought-iron table, a cup of black tea steaming softly beside her notebook.

She was reviewing the upcoming university enrollment logistics when the heavy glass door clicked open behind her. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The sudden, suffocating shift in the air—the heavy, immediate bloom of a familiar woodsy cologne—always heralded his approach.

Lee Felix stepped onto the balcony. His immaculate blonde hair was slightly tossed by the breeze, his tailored Saint Jude’s uniform pristine. He walked with that slow, effortless, predatory grace that used to strike terror into the hearts of the freshman class.

But the moment his dark eyes locked onto Y/N, the sharp, aristocratic mask evaporated, replaced by that deep, unhinged, and permanent adoration. He didn't pull out a chair to sit across from her. Instead, he dropped to one knee right beside her seat, his movements natural, entirely devoid of pride.

He rested his crossed arms on the edge of her table, looking up into her face like a devout worshiper staring at an altar. "You're late, Felix," Y/N said softly, not breaking her gaze from her notebook as she took a slow sip of her tea. "Chan needed me to authorize the final budget allocation for the senior gala," Felix murmured, his deep baritone dropping into that guttural, resonant register that vibrated right through the iron table.

He reached out, his long fingers stopping a mere millimeter away from the edge of her sleeve. He still respected the strict boundaries she had drawn, but his skin practically hummed with the desire to touch her.

"Seungmin tried to route a secondary clause through the tech department, but I dismantled it before it hit the mainframe. The math boy is still trying to find a blind spot in your ledger." "Did he find one?" Y/N asked, finally turning her head to look down at him. Her eyes were stark, clear, and beautifully frozen.

Felix let out a low, shuddering breath of pure satisfaction, a lazy, angelic smirk stretching across his porcelain face. "Never. I tore up his script, sweetheart. I told him that if he even looks at your data profile again, I’ll personally sink his father’s shipping logistics clearance. He knows I mean it." Y/N let her gaze linger on his face.

Six months ago, this boy had been her tormentor, a psychological puppet master who had engineered her family's ruin just to satisfy a toxic curiosity. Now, he was her most loyal shield. The withdrawal he had suffered during their weeks of separation had permanently rewired his brain. He no longer craved control; he only craved her satisfaction. He had become entirely addicted to the absolute power she held over his soul.

Slowly, deliberately, Y/N raised her hand, letting her fingers rest lightly against his soft, blonde hair. Felix’s eyes closed instantly, a soft, ragged sigh escaping his lips as he tilted his head into her touch, his hands gripping the edge of her chair with white-knuckled intensity just to keep himself grounded.

He was trembling slightly, his chest heaving with a profound, dizzying love that felt like a beautiful, life-long sentence. "You're a very good boy, Felix," she whispered, her voice a soft, velvet blade. "I’m your boy," Felix breathed back, his eyes snapping open, burning with a frantic, beautiful madness as he stared up at her. "Always. Command me, Y/N. Tell me what to destroy next. Tell me who to break." "Nothing today," she murmured, her fingers lightly trailing down to his jawline before she pulled her hand away, leaving him cold and starving for more.

"Just sit there and keep the perimeter clean." "Yes, my queen," he whispered, resting his chin on his hands, his gaze completely locked onto her face, thoroughly content to live in the cage she had built for him.

From the high stone archway overlooking the library courtyard, the remaining members of the fractured court watched the scene in a heavy, contemplative silence. Bang Chan stood at the center, his arms crossed over his chest, his face pale but composed. He had accepted the new world order.

The school was quiet, the family assets were secure, and Felix was no longer a frantic, erratic liability—even if his sanity was entirely tethered to a scholarship girl's whim.

Beside him, Hwang Hyunjin leaned against a stone pillar, idly twirling a sketch pen between his long fingers, a melancholic, beautiful smile playing on his lips as he watched Y/N’s distant silhouette against the sunset. "She really looks magnificent up there, doesn't she? A perfect tragedy, turned into an empire." "It's not a tragedy, Hyunjin. It’s an efficient hierarchy,"

Kim Seungmin adjusted his glasses, his laptop tucked securely under his arm. His voice was flat, his pride stung, but his analytical mind couldn't deny the structural integrity of her rule. "She holds the master key. As long as she has Felix on that leash, the balance cannot be disrupted." "And who says we want to disrupt it?" Lee Know purred, stepping out from the shadows with a sharp, cat-like smirk.

He looked down at the courtyard, his eyes gleaming with a wicked, chaotic amusement. "I think the school has never been more entertaining. The kings are in their places, the wildcard is watching... and the concrete girl is sitting on the throne."

From the back of the group, Han Jisung let out a low sigh, his paranoid edge finally softening into a grim acceptance, while Changbin and Jeongin offered a silent, respectful nod toward the balcony.

Broken Kings

Obsessive!Felix x Reader

Warnings: obsessive behavior , deep obsession , emotional manipulation , unhealthy attachment

At Saint Jude’s Academy, the devils wear angel faces. Felix was supposed to be my downfall—instead, he decided I was his only religion. And a broken king never lets his prey escape.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Part 8

The quiet of the weekend did nothing to soothe the electric tension humming through the halls of Saint Jude’s Academy by Monday morning. The school looked exactly the same—the pristine lawns, the Ivy League architecture, the elite students walking in expensive clusters—but the invisible hierarchy had been fundamentally broken.

Lee Felix’s desk in the back of the advanced seminar room was empty again.

Y/N sat in her usual seat, her eyes fixed on the professor, but her skin prickled with the sudden, sharp awareness of being watched. She could feel the heavy gaze of Bang Chan from the front row, his shoulders tense under his dark blazer. She could feel Han Jisung’s anxious, tapping foot two rows down, a frantic rhythm that hadn't stopped since the morning bell.

They weren't looking at her like a defenseless stray anymore. They were looking at her like an unexploded bomb.

When the lecture finally ended, Y/N gathered her books, preparing to make a quiet exit to the courtyard. But as she stepped into the crowded corridor, a hand shot out from the side, gripping her uniform sleeve and pulling her sharply into an empty, sunlit classroom.

The door clicked shut behind her.

"You think you're safe, don't you?"

Y/N didn't panic. She smoothed down her sleeve and turned to face Han Jisung.

The rapper and producer of the group looked completely stripped of his usual arrogant charm. His tie was slightly loosened, his dark hair messy, and his eyes were wide, burning with a frantic, paranoid energy. He paced the small space between the desks like a caged animal before locking his gaze onto her.

"Jisung," Y/N said, her voice perfectly level, completely devoid of the fear he was trying to provoke. "If you're going to threaten me, please make it quick. I have a study session."

"A study session?" Jisung let out a sharp, manic laugh, stepping directly into her personal space. He slammed his hand onto the desk beside her, his chest heaving. "Felix is rotting in his penthouse, drinking himself into a stupor because of you. Chan is destroying the student council evidence logs, and Seungmin's family is running background checks on every single administrator who handles our network. You didn't just target Felix, Y/N. You put a knife right into the center of our entire operation!"

Y/N looked down at his hand on the desk, then back up into his eyes, a small, cold smile touching her lips. "Your operation consisted of using a scholarship student as a psychological punching bag and committing corporate fraud to bankrupt my family. If that's the foundation of your 'court', Jisung, it deserved to crack."

Jisung’s jaw dropped slightly. He was used to girls stuttering or crying when he raised his voice. Looking at her now—completely calm, unbothered, and lethal—he felt a sudden, terrifying wave of realization. Felix hadn't exaggerating. She was entirely unhinged in her calm.

"Chan told us you wouldn't talk," Jisung whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and genuine dread. "But how do we know that? What happens when you get bored? What happens when you decide you want more than just your family's debt cleared? You have a signed confession from a Lee, Y/N. You could ruin us with a single email."

"Then I suggest," Y/N murmured, leaning just a fraction closer, her eyes freezing over, "that you behave yourselves. If you leave me alone, the confession stays in Chan's vault. If you or anyone else tries to play another game with me... I’ll make sure the entire board collapses."

Before Jisung could find his breath to speak, the classroom door swung open with a slow, deliberate creak.

"Now, now, Jisung. Don't go barking at things you don't know how to bite."

Lee Know stepped into the room, a leather folder tucked under his arm. His sharp, cat-like eyes took in the scene instantly—Jisung’s frantic posture, Y/N’s absolute, ice-cold composure. A dark, thoroughly amused smirk cut across his handsome face.

"Minho," Jisung hissed, backing away from Y/N, though his hands were still clenched into fists. "She's threatening us. She literally just said—"

"I heard what she said," Lee Know interrupted smoothly, walking past Jisung as if he weren't even there. He stopped right in front of Y/N, his gaze dropping to her textbooks, then up to her face. There was no malice in his eyes, only a profound, dark curiosity. "And honestly? She’s entirely within her rights. You're being sloppy, Jisung. Go find Changbin. He’s looking for you at the gym."

Jisung glared at both of them, his chest tight with unresolved panic, before turning on his heel and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

The silence that followed was quiet and heavy. Lee Know leaned against the teacher’s desk, crossing his legs at the ankle, looking at Y/N with an unreadable expression.

"He's terrified," Lee Know murmured softly, a genuine chuckle escaping his lips. "They all are, really. Except maybe Hyunjin, who’s currently treating you like his personal muse, and Jeongin, who just likes watching the digital drama unfold."

"And you?" Y/N asked, keeping her guard up. Lee Know was unpredictable; he was the wildcard of the group, never fully aligning with Chan’s rigid leadership or Felix’s possessive games. "Are you terrified too, Minho?"

Lee Know let out a low, melodic laugh, shifting his gaze to the window where the sun was casting long shadows across the courtyard. "Me? No, sweetheart. I’m fascinated. Felix spent three months trying to teach you how to be a perfect, submissive little bird, and instead, he accidentally taught you how to build a cage. I appreciate good craftsmanship."

He stood up, tapping the leather folder against his palm. "But you should know... the cage isn't as secure as you think. Kim Seungmin spent the entire night running a data diagnostic on the flash drive Hyunjin gave you. He found the source of the leak."

Y/N’s muscles tightened subtly. "The source?"

"Hyunjin didn't find those bank records on his own," Lee Know whispered, leaning in just enough so his voice wouldn't carry past the walls. His smirk widened into something sharp and dangerous. "Someone fed them to him. Someone who wanted Hyunjin to give them to you. Someone who wanted you to destroy Felix."

Y/N felt a cold sweat break out across her collarbone. A game within a game.

"Who?" she demanded quietly.

Lee Know tapped his chin thoughtfully, his eyes gleaming with a wicked amusement. "I’ll let you figure that out on your own. Consider it the next level of the seminar. But remember, Y/N... in this court, everyone is playing for a different crown. Felix wanted your heart. Hyunjin wants your tragedy. But the person who gave you that drive... they want Felix's seat."

He turned and walked toward the door, pausing just before he opened it. He looked over his shoulder, his dark eyes fixed onto hers.

"Oh, and by the way," Lee Know added casually. "Felix’s phone just re-registered on the campus network five minutes ago. The prince is back on the grounds. Have a great afternoon, Y/N."

The door clicked shut, leaving Y/N alone in the quiet classroom, her heart beating with a ferocious, heavy rhythm.

She reached into her bag, her fingers wrapping around her phone. Lee Know’s warning echoed in her ears. The board hadn't been cleared at all; the pieces had just been rearranged, and the master architect was no longer the only one pulling the strings.

As she walked out into the corridor, she looked down at the courtyard below. And there, standing beneath the old oak tree in the shadow of the grand building, was Lee Felix.

He wasn't wearing his cashmere sweater anymore. He was back in his perfect, tailored Saint Jude's uniform, his blonde hair immaculate, his posture aristocratic and tall. He was staring directly up at the window of the classroom she was standing in.

He didn't smile. He didn't wave. He simply raised his hand, his long fingers executing a slow, elegant mock-salute before turning around and walking toward the student lounge.

The master was back, the court was divided, and the real psychological war was about to begin.

The air in the student lounge was freezing, but Felix barely felt it.

He sat in his usual leather armchair in the far corner, the midday sun cutting through the massive glass windows and illuminating the sharp, aristocratic lines of his face. His uniform was immaculate, every button fastened, his blonde hair styled to absolute perfection. To the passing freshmen, he looked as untouchable and devastatingly handsome as ever.

But beneath the porcelain facade, Felix’s mind was an echo chamber of pure, agonizing withdrawal.

His right hand was clenched tightly in his pocket, his thumb restlessly rubbing against the bare skin of his index finger. For months, that hand had been occupied. It had been resting on Y/N’s thigh under the desk, tracing patterns on her knuckles, or holding her wrist just tightly enough to remind her who owned her. The sudden absence of her skin beneath his fingertips felt like a physical deformity. It was a phantom itch he couldn't scratch.

I miss her, his mind whispered, the realization hitting his chest like a blunt, heavy object. It was a terrifying, weak sentiment that a Lee should never possess. But as his dark eyes scanned the crowded lounge, skipping over the heirs and heiresses who practically begged for his attention, his soul felt utterly hollow. He didn't want their submission. He wanted hers—the beautiful, fake, tear-stained submission that she had used to blind him.

He closed his eyes, and for a fleeting, agonizing second, he could still smell her scent—not the expensive, woodsy perfume of the high-society girls, but her simple, clean scent that had invaded his senses in the dark of the anatomy theater.

"You look like a ghost, Lix."

Felix’s eyes snapped open. The vulnerability vanished in a fraction of a second, replaced by a cold, lazy stare.

Hwang Hyunjin strolled over, a patronizing smirk on his lips as he dropped a stack of fashion design portfolios onto the glass table. He threw himself onto the opposite sofa, crossing his long legs and looking at Felix with an amused, wicked glint in his eyes.

"I didn't know the penthouse didn't have running water," Hyunjin murmured, leaning back. "You've lost weight. Is the corporate fraud diet treating you well?"

Felix didn't flinch at the provocation. "I don't remember inviting you to my table, Hyunjin."

"Oh, come on. We're brothers, aren't we?" Hyunjin chuckled, though his dark eyes remained entirely cold. He tilted his head, watching the slight tension in Felix’s jaw. "I saw her in the hallway earlier. Jisung was practically sweating through his designer shirt trying to intimidate her, and she didn't even blink. You really built something terrifying, Felix. You carved a masterpiece, and then she used the chisel to cut your throat."

Felix’s fingers tightened inside his pocket until his knuckles turned stark white. The sheer, violent surge of jealousy that tore through his veins at the mention of Jisung being near her almost made him lose his composure. He wanted to burn the school down. He wanted to lock her back in the basement where no one else could look at her, where she would have to beg him for the light.

But beneath the jealousy, a profound, heartbreaking ache tore at his soul. He didn't just want to lock her up. He wanted her to want to be there. He was mourning the boy he had been just three weeks ago—the boy who truly believed she loved him.

"Stay away from her, Hyunjin," Felix said, his voice dropping into that terrifyingly deep, resonant register that made the glass on the table vibrate subtly. "All of you. She’s off-limits."

"Chan’s orders, or yours?" Hyunjin asked, his smirk widening as he stood up, picking up his portfolios. He leaned over the table, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Because if it's yours, Lix... you don't have the clearance to enforce it anymore."

With a mock salute—the exact one Felix had given Y/N earlier—Hyunjin turned on his heel and sauntered off toward the arts wing.

The advanced literature seminar felt like an eternity.

Y/N kept her eyes firmly on the chalkboard, her pen scratching neatly against the paper. She could feel the heavy, oppressive weight of Felix’s presence sitting exactly one desk away from her. He hadn't tried to touch her. He hadn't spoken a word. But his silence was louder than any threat he had ever uttered.

When the professor finally dismissed the class, Y/N waited until the room cleared out before she gathered her things. She didn't want a confrontation in the hallway.

But as she stood up, a tall shadow fell over her desk.

Felix was standing there. He wasn't looming over her like a predator this time; his posture was rigid, almost hesitant. His dark eyes were fixed on her face, tracing the sharp line of her jaw, the curve of her lips, looking for any sign of the girl who used to cry in his arms.

"Y/N," he murmured, his deep voice carrying a strange, raw roughness that she had never heard before.

Y/N didn't shrink back. She gripped her strap, looking directly into his eyes, her face a mask of freezing calm. "What do you want, Felix? Chan has my family's clearance documents. If you try anything—"

"I’m not trying anything," Felix interrupted softly, his voice cracking just a fraction. He took a single step closer, the scent of his woodsy cologne instantly invading her space, triggering a violent, complicated rush of memories in her chest.

Slowly, deliberately, Felix raised his left hand. For a split second, Y/N thought he was going to grab her, but his fingers stopped a mere inch from her cheek. He didn't touch her. He just held his hand there, hovering against the air, as if he were trying to feel the phantom warmth of her skin. His fingers were trembling.

"I just..." Felix whispered, his eyes widening with a desperate, heartbreaking intensity that made Y/N’s breath hitch. "I wanted to see if your eyes were still as cold as they were in the courtyard."

Y/N swallowed hard, her heart giving a sudden, unwanted thud against her ribs. The sheer vulnerability in his gaze was terrifyingly genuine. The monster was completely exposed, bleeding right in front of her, and for a fraction of a second, the heavy, dark intimacy they had shared for months felt like a physical pull. He truly, deeply missed her. He was starving for her touch.

But she forced her expression to remain entirely frozen. "They are, Felix. And they always will be."

Felix’s hand slowly dropped back to his side, his fingers curling into a tight fist as if trying to trap the cold air she had left him with. A small, bitter, and profoundly broken smile touched his porcelain lips.

"Magnificent," he breathed, his voice thick with a toxic, dizzying adoration. "You look at me like I’m nothing. And the worst part is... I’ve never loved you more than I do right now."

Before she could answer, the door to the seminar room opened, and Kim Seungmin stepped inside, a tablet in his hand. His sharp eyes darted between Felix’s rigid posture and Y/N’s icy composure, a analytical smirk cutting across his face.

"Am I interrupting a post-mortem analysis?" Seungmin asked smoothly, his voice entirely devoid of warmth. "Felix, Chan wants you in the main office. The legal team sent the finalized audit files for your signature."

Felix didn't look at Seungmin. He kept his eyes locked on Y/N for one last, agonizing second, inhaling sharply as if trying to memorize her presence before he turned on his heel and walked out of the room, his footsteps echoing heavily down the corridor.

Seungmin watched him leave, then walked over to the desk, leaning against the edge and looking down at Y/N with a dark, calculated interest.

"He's unraveling faster than I predicted," Seungmin murmured, tapping his digital pen against the tablet. "He’s entirely driven by the emotion now. Which means... he’s completely predictable. If you want to finish him off, Y/N, now is the time."

Y/N adjusted her bag, her mind racing as she processed Lee Know’s warning from earlier. Someone wanted Felix's seat.She looked up at Seungmin’s perfect, analytical face—the boy who handled the network diagnostics, the boy who ran the data logs.

"And why do you care so much about finishing him off, Seungmin?" Y/N asked quietly, her eyes narrowing. "Unless... you were the one who wanted the leak to happen in the first place?"

Seungmin’s smirk didn't falter, but a sharp, dangerous glint flashed through his glasses in the afternoon light. "Like I said before, Y/N... I just like a clean narrative. And a king who rules with his heart is a very messy thing."

The silence that settled over the empty seminar room was heavy, almost clinical. Y/N stood perfectly still, her knuckles white where she gripped the strap of her bag. Her accusation hung in the air like a localized frost, but Kim Seungmin didn't flinch.

He didn't blink. He simply adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses with a slow, deliberate movement of his middle finger, the light from the tall windows reflecting off the lenses, completely veiling his eyes.

"You're smarter than the others give you credit for, Y/N," Seungmin said, his voice dropping into that terrifyingly flat, rhythmic cadence. He tapped his digital pen against the tablet one final time before sliding it smoothly into his blazer pocket.

"Hyunjin thinks he’s a mastermind because he likes the drama of a curtain call. Jisung thinks he’s a genius because he can script a panic. But they both forget that data doesn't care about emotion. Data only cares about efficiency." Y/N took a half-step back, her posture defensive, her mind frantically connecting the dots.

"You used Hyunjin. You knew he was bored enough to play with the information if you left it where he could find it." "I merely optimized the variables," Seungmin corrected gently, stepping away from the desk and walking toward her with the slow, terrifying confidence of a surgeon approaching an operating table.

"Felix was becoming a liability. His fixation on you was disrupting our structural integrity. He was routing assets through student terminals, leaving digital footprints that could have compromised my family's PR firm and Chan’s standing with the board. He had to be removed from the equation." He stopped just two feet away from her.

The proximity wasn't suffocating like Felix’s or performative like Hyunjin’s—it was entirely cold. "I needed a scalpel to cut him out," Seungmin whispered, leaning down slightly so his eyes were level with hers. "And you were the sharpest blade available. I gave you the data through Hyunjin. You did exactly what the math predicted you would do. You broke his grip." "And now?" Y/N asked, her heart giving a violent, angry thud against her ribs.

She hated being a pawn, but she hated even more that she hadn't seen his invisible hand pulling the strings before she moved. "Now that Felix is on his knees, what’s your next calculation?" Seungmin’s lips curved into a small, chillingly vacant smile.

"Now, we see if the blade can be repurposed. Felix is signing his administrative retreat right now. Chan thinks the family empire is secure. But a throne doesn't stay empty for long, sweetheart. Go home. Rest. The next phase of the semester requires you to be perfectly sharp." Without waiting for her response, Seungmin turned on his heel and strolled out of the room, the door clicking shut with a terrifyingly neat finality.

That night, the rain returned to the city, washing over the floor-to-ceiling glass walls of the Lee family penthouse. Felix sat at his grand mahogany desk, a single designer lamp casting long, distorted shadows across the room.

A half-empty crystal glass of dark liquor sat by his right hand, untouched. In front of him lay the finalized audit documents—the ones Chan had practically forced him to sign to clear his name from the corporate fraud inquiry. His digital signature was already stamped at the bottom of the page, but Felix wasn't looking at the numbers.

His eyes were fixed entirely on a small, ordinary hair tie resting on the corner of the desk. She had dropped it in his car three weeks ago, during one of those rainy drives when she still pretended to be his fragile, dependent little girl. Slowly, his trembling fingers reached out, his thumb lightly tracing the elastic band.

A profound, suffocating wave of losscrashed over his chest, so violent it made him gasp for air in the quiet room. He missed the way she used to look at him when she was pretending. He missed the physical warmth of her body leaning into his side, the way her breath used to catch when his baritone voice dropped low against her ear.

I am completely empty without her, he thought, a dry, bitter sob catching in his throat.

He leaned his forehead against his cool palms, his chest aching with a raw, bleeding heartbreak that no amount of wealth or aristocratic power could heal. He had spent his entire life dominating others, entirely convinced that love was just a structural weakness.

But looking at that tiny, worthless piece of elastic, Felix realized he would gladly give up the entire Lee empire just to have her look at him with a single spark of genuine warmth again. The phone on his desk vibrated, breaking the silence. It wasn't a text from Chan. It was an automated notification from the private surveillance network he had secretly installed around her house months ago—one that even Jeongin hadn't managed to purge from the mainframe.

A live video feed popped up on his tablet screen. Felix’s breath caught. The camera, hidden across the street from her house, showed Y/N walking onto her front porch to pull a damp sweater from the drying rack. The porch light caught the sharp, beautiful lines of her face—the absolute calm, the lack of fear, the complete freedom she had won for herself.

As he watched her through the screen, his dark eyes dilated, a wild, trembling mix of agonizing heartbreak and manic, toxic adoration swirling through his soul. "You're so beautiful when you're free," Felix whispered into the dark penthouse, his thumb tracing her digital silhouette on the glass screen.

A single, hot tear slipped down his porcelain cheek, dripping onto the legal documents below. "But you're still using my air, sweetheart. You're still living in the world I built for you." He slowly leaned down, pressing his lips against the cold screen, right where her face was displayed. The withdrawal was driving him insane, but beneath the pain, the master architect’s mind was beginning to reset.

Seungmin thought he had won. Chan thought the leash was secure. But as Felix watched Y/N turn around and walk back inside her warm, safe house, he let out a low, shuddering laugh that echoed off the marble walls.

"Let them play their little political games for the crown," Felix murmured, his voice dropping into that terrifyingly deep, guttural register as his fingers tightened around the hair tie until it snapped. "Let Seungmin calculate the math. I don't care about the throne anymore, Y/N... I only care about the keeper."

The next morning, the storm inside Saint Jude’s took a physical form.

Y/N walked through the grand entrance of the sports complex, her uniform jacket buttoned tight against the damp morning fog. She had chosen the path behind the tennis courts to avoid the main courtyard, but as she rounded the corner, she found her path blocked. Standing by the chain-link fence, a leather basketball resting casually under his arm, was Bang Chan.

Beside him, leaning against the metal pole with his arms crossed, was Seo Changbin. "Y/N," Chan called out, his voice heavy, devoid of his usual student council authority. He looked exhausted, his eyes bloodshot as he stepped into her path.

"We need to talk." Y/N stopped, her eyes shifting from Chan’s tense expression to Changbin’s massive, unreadable form. "I thought our business concluded in the council room, Chan. My family's debt is cleared. Your brother's confession is in your vault." "The business with Felix is concluded," Chan said, his jaw clenching as he stepped closer.

"But the balance of this school is falling apart. Seungmin’s family just initiated a hostile audit against the Hwang corporation's local subsidiaries. Hyunjin is pulling his family’s funding from the arts center in retaliation. Jisung is refusing to route the student council budgets. Everyone is turning on each other because of the crack you left in our foundation."

Changbin stepped forward then, his heavy boots crunching against the gravel. He didn't look angry; he looked at her with that same deep, respectful calculation he had shown in the library. "I told you to stay heavy, concrete girl," Changbin murmured, his deep voice carrying a strange, dark solemnity.

"But you hit us so hard the walls are falling down on everyone. Chan can't hold the circle together anymore. Seungmin is making his move for the leadership, and he’s using the data you gave him to do it." Y/N felt a cold wave of clarity wash over her mind. Seungmin isn't just trying to remove Felix, she realized, her pulse racing with the sudden, lethal high of the game.

He’s trying to dismantle the entire inner circle, using me as the weapon so his hands stay completely clean. Before she could answer, the sound of slow, rhythmic clapping echoed from the shadows of the nearby equipment shed.

The three of them spun around. Walking out of the fog, his hands shoved carelessly into his pockets, his immaculate blonde hair catching the dim morning light, was Lee Felix.

He walked with a light, effortless grace, a serene, angelic smile playing on his porcelain lips. The broken, weeping boy from the penthouse was completely gone; this was something far more dangerous. This was a predator who had accepted his own ruin and found a twisted peace inside it.

"Did I miss the group meeting?" Felix asked, his low, honeyed baritone vibrating through the damp air as his dark, obsessed eyes locked onto Y/N’s face, entirely ignoring his brothers. He stepped right between Chan and Changbin, crowding into Y/N’s personal space until she could smell his familiar woodsy cologne.

He didn't touch her. He didn't threaten her. He simply tilted his head, his smile widening into something beautifully, terrifyingly unhinged as his eyes tracked the rapid pulse in her throat.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Felix whispered, his deep voice thick with a dark, intoxicating adoration that made the surrounding fog feel suffocatingly warm. "The boys are right. The court is completely fractured. Seungmin is trying to take the crown... so I think it's time you and I start playing together. Don't you?"

The air between them grew so thick with tension it felt physically heavy. Felix stood perfectly still, his immaculate blonde hair catching the damp morning mist. His porcelain face was a mask of serene, unhinged adoration, his deep eyes locked onto Y/N as if the rest of the world had simply dissolved around them.

Behind him, Bang Chan’s face was dark with an agonized mix of fury and protective instinct, while Changbin stood like a stone wall, his jaw clenched as he monitored the perimeter.

"Felix," Chan warned, his voice a dangerous, low rumble. "Step back. Now. You signed the administrative retreat. You gave up your clearance over her." Felix didn't even turn his head. A soft, chilling chuckle escaped his throat, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s face. "I signed away my family’s local assets, Christopher. I didn't sign away my eyes. I didn't sign away my mind." He took a fraction of a step closer to Y/N, his voice dropping into that guttural, resonant register that sent a phantom shiver straight down her spine.

"Seungmin thinks he’s the only one who can read the data. He thinks because he manipulated Hyunjin into handing you that drive, he owns the outcome. But he forgot one very basic rule of the board." Felix raised his hand, his long, elegant fingers hovering a mere millimeter away from the collar of Y/N’s blazer. He didn't touch her—he knew the rules of her cold boundaries now—but the heat radiating from his skin was undeniable.

"When you break a king," Felix whispered, a dark, breathless smile cutting across his lips, "you don't just get his crown. You get his ghosts. And right now, sweetheart, my ghosts are hungry." Y/N met his gaze unblinkingly.

Her heart was hammering a ferocious rhythm against her ribs, but her mind remained sharp, calculating the shifting alliances with icy precision. Seungmin is the common enemy now, she realized. He played all of us. He used my survival instinct, Felix’s obsession, and Hyunjin’s boredom to trigger a structural collapse. "You want to play together, Felix?" Y/N asked, her voice cutting through the fog like a silver blade, entirely devoid of fear. "The last time we played a game, your family's compliance attorneys had to rewrite your asset portfolio. Are you sure you can afford a second round?"

Beside them, Changbin let out a low, grim sound that might have been a laugh. "She's got you there, Lix." Felix’s smile didn't fade; it deepened, turning into an expression of pure, toxic ecstasy. He loved her ice. He was entirely intoxicated by the fact that she could look at his ruin and threaten him with more. "I would burn the remaining halves of my name just to watch you light the match, Y/N." "Oh, look at this. The family reunion started without me."

A sharp, mocking voice broke the perimeter. Walking down the steps of the sports complex, a silk scarf tied loosely around his neck, was Hwang Hyunjin. His silver hair was slightly damp from the fog, and his dark eyes were gleaming with a wicked, erratic brilliance. He wasn't looking at Chan or Felix; his eyes were fixed entirely on Y/N. "Hyunjin,"

Chan sighed, running a hand over his face. "Not now. The circle is already compromised." "The circle is dead, Chan," Hyunjin corrected smoothly, stepping onto the gravel and stopping a few feet away. He leaned against a concrete pillar, tilting his head with a theatrical sigh. "Seungmin just frozen my family’s structural art grants. He filed a formal audit request with the board, claiming 'irregularities' in my personal stipend allocations. He’s systematically isolating every single one of us."

Hyunjin looked at Felix, his smirk turning razor-sharp. "He used your little scholarship girl to execute you, Lix. And now he’s using the aftermath to starve the rest of the court. He’s currently sitting in the student council office with Yang Jeongin, drafting a complete restructuring of the elite terminals."

"Jeongin is with him?" Changbin asked, his voice dropping into a dangerous pitch. "Jeongin goes where the logic is clean," a new voice murmured from the shadows behind the tennis courts. Lee Know stepped out from behind the green windscreens, his hands buried deep in his uniform pockets. His sharp, cat-like eyes scanned the assembled group, a look of profound, detached amusement on his face.

He walked over, stopping right beside Y/N, his shoulder lightly brushing hers in a casual, provocative display of neutrality.

"Minho," Chan said, his voice laced with exhaustion. "Where do you stand?" "I stand where the entertainment is, Christopher," Lee Know purred, cutting his eyes to Y/N with a dark, knowing wink. "And right now, the math boy is getting a little too arrogant for my taste. He thinks he’s the author of the script. But he forgets that a story is only good if the characters cooperate."

Lee Know looked at Felix, then at Y/N. "Seungmin didn't just leak the bank data to Hyunjin, you know. I did a little digging of my own while you two were busy staring at each other in the seminar room. Seungmin has a secondary server. A private ledger containing the personal asset allocations of all eight families. He’s been compiling it for three years. If he takes over Chan’s seat on the board, he doesn't just control the school—he controls our parents' local corporate clearances."

Broken Kings

Obsessive!Felix x Reader Warnings: obsessive behavior , deep obsession , emotional manipulation , unhealthy attachment

At Saint Jude’s Academy, the devils wear angel faces. Felix was supposed to be my downfall—instead, he decided I was his only religion. And a broken king never lets his prey escape.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Part 7

For the next forty-eight hours, the atmosphere inside Saint Jude’s Academy grew heavy, thick with the suffocating pressure that precedes a violent storm. To Lee Felix, however, the world had never felt more secure. He sat in the rear of the lecture hall during advanced legal studies, his arm draped casually over the back of Y/N’s chair.

His long, elegant fingers idly twirled a lock of her hair, completely captivated by her quiet compliance. She was taking neat, meticulous notes, occasionally tilting her head up to offer him that soft, beautifully broken smile he had grown to depend on. He was entirely blind to the world around him, thoroughly drunk on the illusion of his absolute control. He had no idea that across the room, Bang Chan’s gaze was burning a hole into the back of his neck.

Chan hadn't spoken a word to Felix since the confrontation in the courtyard. The oldest member of the circle sat rigid, his jaw clenched, his eyes dark with an agonizing mix of betrayal and sheer panic. Y/N didn't have to look at Chan to know the poison was working. She could hear it in the frantic, sharp way he flipped the pages of his textbook. The clock was ticking. And Chan was running out of time.

The final move of the game was set in motion during the late afternoon recess. Felix had been pulled into a mandatory meeting with his advisor—a final check on his senior thesis. He had kissed Y/N’s cheek in the hallway, his deep voice murmuring a promise to take her out for dinner, before disappearing around the corner.

The moment he was gone, a heavy hand gripped Y/N’s elbow. "Council room. Now," Chan hissed in her ear. His grip was tight, his voice shaking with a terrifying blend of anger and desperation. Y/N didn't fight him. She let him guide her through the quiet, carpeted corridors of the administrative wing, all the way to the heavy double doors of the Student Council Headquarters.

When Chan pushed the doors open, Y/N realized the wolves had already gathered. Sitting at the grand conference table was Kim Seungmin, his laptop open, his analytical eyes tracking data with a cold, clinical focus. Leaning against the marble fireplace was Hwang Hyunjin, a glass of expensive water in his hand, a look of profound, wicked amusement dancing in his dark eyes.

They all knew. The secret was out, and the foundation of their elite circle was crumbling from the inside. Chan slammed the doors shut, locking them with a loud, echoey click. He marched over to the head of the table, tossing a thick, legal-grade manila folder onto the polished wood. "It’s done," Chan breathed, his voice ragged as he looked at Y/N.

The confident, imposing leader looked completely hollowed out by the stress. "I bypassed the local branch. I went directly to the Lee family’s primary compliance attorneys. I told them a 'glitch' in the student terminal had compromised a high-clearance family asset, and that if it wasn't settled quietly, a full audit would be triggered by outside forces."

Y/N stepped up to the table, her posture perfectly straight, her face a mask of freezing calm. She opened the folder. Inside was a legally binding nondisclosure agreement, paired with a debt-termination clause.

Her family’s logistics company was entirely cleared of all liabilities. Every red notice, every artificial interest hike, wiped clean out of existence. And beneath that lay the second document: a formal, digitally signed confession from Felix’s private account, admitting to unauthorized manipulation of bank interest rates via a student terminal.

It was a loaded gun, held securely by the council, ensuring Felix could never touch her or her family again without triggering his own immediate arrest and public ruin. "You really did it," Hyunjin murmured from the fireplace, letting out a low, fascinated whistle. He looked at Y/N as if she were the most beautiful, lethal thing he had ever seen. "You actually made Chan betray his own brother to save the school's reputation. Truly magnificent, sweetheart." "Shut up, Hyunjin,"

Seungmin countered sharply, not looking up from his screen. "The data is clean. The Lee family’s servers have completely wiped her family's debt profile. It’s over. The math is settled." Chan stepped closer to Y/N, his eyes wild with an intense, protective fury. "You have your life back, Y/N. Your family is safe. Now give me the encryption keys to the backup server. Give me the flash drive Hyunjin gave you."

She reached into her blazer, pulling out the silver flash drive that had started it all. She held it out, letting Chan snatch it from her hand with a frantic desperation. He immediately tossed it into the fireplace, watching the plastic and metal melt into the roaring flames. "Felix doesn't know," Chan whispered, his hands trembling as he gripped the edge of the table.

"He thinks his family’s lawyers handled a routine audit. He has no idea you did this. He has no idea his confession is sitting in my vault. If you ever tell him—" "I won't have to," Y/N interrupted smoothly, a small, chilling smile finally touching her lips. "Because the game isn't over for him, Chan. It’s just beginning."

The sun was setting over the academy, painting the grand courtyard in violent streaks of crimson and gold, when Felix finally found her. She was sitting on the concrete bench beneath the old oak tree—the exact place where she had spent months feeling like an isolated victim. The courtyard was empty, the other students having already left for the dormitories.

"There you are, sweetheart." Felix walked toward her, his face softening into that breathtaking, angelic smile. He looked exhausted from his meeting, but the moment his eyes locked onto her, the fatigue vanished, replaced by that intense, suffocating possessiveness. He sat down beside her, immediately reaching out to wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her close to inhale her scent.

But this time, Y/N didn't melt into his embrace. She sat perfectly rigid. When his lips tried to brush against her temple, she slowly, deliberately turned her head away, stepping out of his arms and standing up to face him.

Felix froze. His arms remained suspended in the air, his smile faltering for a fraction of a second before a dark, sharp wave of confusion crossed his porcelain features. "Y/N?" he murmured, his deep baritone dropping into a cautious, uneasy register. He stood up slowly, stepping into her personal space.

"What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?" Y/N looked at him. She looked at his beautiful face, his sharp cheekbones, the frantic, tiny twitch in his pupils that always betrayed his desperate need for absolute control. The fear that had paralyzed her for months was entirely gone, replaced by a profound, freezing clarity. "My parents called me twenty minutes ago, Felix," she said, her voice terrifyingly calm, completely devoid of the fragile, tearful tremor she had worn for so long.

Felix’s jaw clenched subtly. "Oh? Did something happen?" "Their debt has been completely erased," Y/N whispered, her eyes locking onto his with a lethal, unblinking intensity. "The Lee family’s subsidiary banks issued a formal apology for a 'technical discrepancy' in the interest rates. My father's company is safe." Felix’s heart gave a violent, invisible thud against his ribs.

A smug, victorious smirk began to bleed back onto his lips. He believed his lawyers had finished the job. He believed he had permanently secured her safety, making her entirely dependent on him forever. "I told you I would protect you, sweetheart," he murmured, stepping closer, reaching his large hand out to cup her jawline.

"I told you that as long as you belong to me, no one can touch you—" "I know it was you, Felix." His hand stopped a mere millimeter from her face. The smirk died instantly. "I know you were the one who used your family's clearance codes to bankrupt my family three months ago," Y/N delivered smoothly, her voice cutting through the quiet courtyard like a scalpel. "I know you created the fire just to play the hero. And I know about the signed confession Chan is currently holding in the student council vault."

The silence that followed was absolute, heavy enough to crush bones. Felix stared at her. The angelic prince vanished entirely. His entire body went rigid, his breath hitching as his mind frantically tried to process the words. The illusion of his absolute control, the beautiful cage he had spent months building around her soul, shattered into a million jagged pieces right before his eyes. "What... what are you talking about?" he whispered, his voice cracking, dropping into a rough, uncalculated register.

He reached for her wrists, his grip frantic, desperate to anchor her, but Y/N easily stepped back, out of his reach. "Chan knows, Seungmin knows, Hyunjin knows," Y/N said softly, a dark, triumphant smile finally painting her lips in the fading light. She looked down at him, her eyes completely cold. "You didn't break me, Felix. You didn't win. You spent the last two weeks drinking in my tears, entirely blind to the fact that I was the one pulling your brother’s strings to dismantle your entire asset clearance."

Felix’s chest heaved, a violent, suffocating wave of panic and raw, agonizing heartbreak tearing through his soul. He looked at her face—at the absolute lack of fear, the lethal intelligence, the complete authority in her gaze.

She wasn't his fragile little stray anymore. She was the master of the board. And the most terrifying part? As he stood there, completely exposed, ruined, and defeated, his heart gave a frantic, dizzying leap of pure, toxic adoration.

He wasn't just mad she had played him; he was utterly, helplessly obsessed with the monster he had accidentally created.

"Y/N..." Felix breathed, his voice thick with a desperate, trembling emotion as he took a tentative step forward, his hands open, pleading. "Please..." Y/N turned her back on him, walking slowly toward the grand gates of Saint Jude’s Academy. She didn't look back. She could hear his ragged breathing behind her, could feel his dark, obsessed gaze burning into her spine.

Felix had wanted to play a psychological game of control. He had wanted her to look only at him. And as she walked out into her freedom, she knew she had given him exactly what he desired. He would spend the rest of his life looking at her—not as a master looking at his toy, but as a prisoner looking at his keeper.

The strings were cut, the board was clear, and the king was officially on his knees.The heavy iron gates of Saint Jude’s Academy clicked shut behind Y/N, the sharp sound echoing through the damp evening air like a formal eviction from a nightmare.

She walked down the cobblestone hill toward the public transit station, her shoulders straight, her pace steady. For the first time in months, her chest didn't feel constricted by that phantom weight.

The midnight-blue dress was gone, the custom uniform felt like just fabric again, and the silver flash drive was ash in the council room fireplace. When she finally reached her neighborhood—a quiet, modest labyrinth of small houses and cracked sidewalks—she saw the lights on in her family’s living room.

Through the window, she could see her father. He wasn't hunched over a calculator, frantic eyes bloodshot from tracking interest rates he couldn't pay. He was sitting back, talking quietly to her mother, a cup of tea in his hand.

A normal, quiet evening. Y/N stood on the porch for a moment, letting the cool wind brush against her face.

She had bought their freedom. She had played the devil at his own table and walked away with the chips. But as she pushed the door open, greeting her parents with a genuine smile, a strange, hollow ache settled beneath her ribs. It wasn't regret. It wasn't fear. It was the sudden, jarring silence of a mind that had been operating on pure adrenaline for a hundred days straight. The game was over, but the phantom taste of the sweet poison Felix had fed her lingered on the back of her tongue.

Meanwhile, the luxury penthouse overlooking the city was entirely dark. Felix sat on the floor, his back leaning against the base of the floor-to-ceiling window.

His expensive cashmere sweater was crumpled, his hands loosely resting on his knees. He hadn't moved since he returned from the academy courtyard.Every corner of the room seemed to mock him. He looked at the kitchen island where he had fed her imported chocolates, watching her eyes light up with that engineered gratitude. He had orchestratred her ruin with cold, detached curiosity, treating her life like a beautiful, dark experiment.

But as he stared into the darkness, a horrifying truth crystallized in his soul: the master architect had fallen into his own trap.

He hadn't just broken her; he had fallen entirely, helplessly in love with the illusion he had created. And now that she had ripped the illusion away, revealing the lethal intellect underneath, the withdrawal was physically agonizing.

He missed her. He missed the suffocating, toxic gravity of her presence.

The door to the penthouse clicked open, the light from the hallway cutting through the dark like a scalpel. Bang Chan stepped into the room, his expression grim, his posture heavy with exhaustion. He looked down at Felix sitting on the floor, a flicker of deep pity crossing his eyes. "Felix," Chan said softly, his voice echoing in the clinical space. "The compliance team has finalized the records. The student terminal logs have been purged. Your family won't find out about the asset manipulation, and the board has dropped the inquiry."

Felix didn't look up. "She used you, Chan. She used you to take everything away from me." "She saved you from yourself, Lix," Chan countered firmly. "If she had gone to the press, or to your father, you'd be on a plane to a corporate correction facility by tomorrow morning. Leave her alone. The council holds your signed confession. If you touch her, I will release it myself."

Chan turned on his heel and walked out, the heavy door clicking shut behind him, leaving Felix alone with his trembling hands and a twisted, blooming obsession. The shift in the hierarchy of Saint Jude's didn't happen overnight, but the ripples began to spread through the elite circle almost immediately.

Y/N had shattered the illusion of their absolute control, and the remaining members were starting to notice the cracks. The next day, Y/N sat in the library, trying to focus on her advanced literature reading. The weight of Felix’s empty seat in her morning classes still hung in the air, but she refused to let it anchor her.

"You're sitting in his favorite corner." Y/N looked up from her book. Standing by the mahogany bookshelf was Seo Changbin. He wore his uniform jacket open, a gym bag slung carelessly over one shoulder. As the physical enforcer of the group—the one who usually handled the messy brawls and intimidation tactics behind the sports complex—he carried an aura of brute, unfiltered power. Yet, his eyes weren't angry; they were calculative.

"The library belongs to the school, Changbin," Y/N said quietly, keeping her voice even. "Not to Felix." Changbin walked over, pulling out the heavy leather chair across from her and turning it backward, sitting down with his arms resting on the wooden frame. He studied her for a long moment, a slow, appreciative grunt escaping his chest. "Felix hasn't been to the training facilities in two days. Chan is walking around like he's carrying the weight of the world, and Hyunjin won't stop laughing at his phone,"

Changbin murmured, leaning forward. "Nobody tells me anything because they think I only understand what I can hit. But I know when the balance changes. You did something to him, didn't you?" Y/N closed her book halfway, her fingers resting flat on the cover. "I just closed an unpaid account." Changbin let out a short, sharp laugh, shaking his head. "A closed account. Right. Felix looks at people like they're glass ornaments he wants to break just to see how they shatter. But you? You're concrete. I like concrete. Just make sure you stay heavy, Y/N. Because when Felix finally figures out how to stand back up, he’s going to hit like a freight train."

He stood up, grabbing his bag, and offered her a small, surprisingly respectful nod before walking away into the stacks. By Friday, the tension within the group was reaching a boiling point.

The inner sanctum was no longer a unified front. In the music conservatory, Han Jisung was aggressively tearing through chords on a grand piano, the erratic melody echoing off the soundproof walls. Sitting on top of a nearby amplifier, swinging his legs lazily, was Lee Know, casually tossing an unlit cigarette from hand to hand.

The door opened, and Chan walked in, his face pale, his eyes ringed with dark circles. Jisung slammed his hands down on the keys, the discordant clash ringing through the room. "Is it true?" he demanded, spinning around on the piano stool. "The legal servers? The Lee family compliance files? Chan, tell me Felix didn't actually sign a corporate fraud confession over a scholarship girl." "Keep your voice down, Jisung," Chan snapped, rubbing his temples.

"Oh, let him scream," Lee Know purred from the amplifier, a sharp, cat-like smirk cutting across his face. He hopped down smoothly, his boots clicking against the hardwood. "I think it’s hilarious. The great Lee Felix, brought to his knees by a girl who doesn't even have a trust fund. I told you guys weeks ago she had steel in her spine. You just assumed she was crying because she was weak." "It's handled," Chan said, his voice flat.

"The debt is cleared, Felix is isolated at the penthouse until he cools down, and she is off-limits. Permanently." "Off-limits?" Jisung repeated, a manic, stressed laugh bubbling up from his throat. He ran a hand through his dark hair. "Chan, she knows about the student terminals! She knows how we route the family assets through the school's private network! If she talks to the education board—" "She won't talk," a new voice interrupted from the doorway. The three of them turned to see Yang Jeongin leaning against the doorframe.

The youngest member of the circle, usually quiet and hidden behind a sweet, innocent smile, looked completely detached. He was holding a tablet, his eyes tracking a live data feed of the school's scholarship distribution network. "I’ve been monitoring her digital footprint since she left the archives," Jeongin said, his voice terrifyingly calm for someone his age. He looked up, his smile completely vacant of warmth.

"She hasn't downloaded any more files. She hasn't contacted any external servers. She didn't want to destroy us, Jisung. She just wanted her family back." Jeongin walked into the room, stepping right past a frustrated Jisung to show Chan the screen. "But here’s the interesting part. Look at the local security logs from her neighborhood. Someone has been paying a private security firm to patrol her street since yesterday morning." Chan frowned, leaning in. "Felix?" "No," Jeongin whispered, his eyes gleaming with a strange, dark amusement.

"The authorization came from a subsidiary account under the Hwang corporation. Hyunjin is paying for her protection." Lee Know let out a low whistle, leaning back against the piano. "Well, well. The artist is drawing his own lines now." That afternoon, as the final bell rang, Y/N walked out into the courtyard.

The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting long, dramatic shadows across the grass. She felt a presence beside her before she saw him.

Hyunjin walked in step with her, his hands buried deep in his pockets, his long silver hair catching the golden light. He didn't look at her; he just stared straight ahead at the sunset. "You should look behind you more often, sweetheart," Hyunjin murmured softly, his voice carrying a strange, gentle weight.

"I'm done looking back, Hyunjin," Y/N replied, not slowing her pace. "I have nothing left to fear." "Maybe," Hyunjin said, a small, melancholic smile playing on his lips. "But the wolves in this school don't like losing their territory. Felix is quiet right now, but a quiet Felix is a dangerous thing. The others are waking up to what you did. Jisung is paranoid. Minho is amused. And Chan is barely holding the leash."

He stopped walking, forcing her to pause and look at him. Hyunjin stepped closer, his dark eyes searching her face with an intensity that made her breath hitch. "I put a guard on your street," he confessed quietly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Not to keep you in a cage. But to make sure nobody else tries to build one around you." Y/N stared at him, her mind racing as she realized the depth of the fracture she had caused.

She hadn't just defeated Felix; she had disrupted the entire ecosystem of Saint Jude's. The eight kings of the school were no longer a monolith. They were shifting, watching her, calculating their own moves. "I don't need your protection, Hyunjin," she said firmly. "We'll see," Hyunjin murmured, stepping back with a graceful, slow bow. "But until the game truly ends... I'll be watching the board."

Broken Kings

Obsessive!Felix x Reader Warnings: obsessive behavior , deep obsession , emotional manipulation , unhealthy attachment

At Saint Jude’s Academy, the devils wear angel faces. Felix was supposed to be my downfall—instead, he decided I was his only religion. And a broken king never lets his prey escape.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Part 6

The metal of the flash drive was a freezing needle pressing into the palm of Y/N’s hand. Ten minutes. Hyunjin’s words echoed in the quiet music room, competing with the heavy, rhythmic drumming of the rain against the stained-glass windows.

Her chest felt hollow, a raw, gaping wound where her innocence used to be. Every struggle her parents had faced—the sleepless nights, her mother’s silent tears over the kitchen table, the suffocating stack of red notices—had been orchestrated by the boy who claimed he wanted to keep her all to himself. It was a devastating, paralyzing revelation.

The sheer scale of Felix’s cruelty was breathtaking. But as the sound of distant, hurried footsteps began to echo down the hallway, Y/N forced her breathing to slow. Her heart was hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird, but her mind—sharpened by months of survival—began to calculate with cold precision. Slow down, she told herself, her fingers tightening around the drive. If you change your behavior now, if you strike too quickly, he will know someone helped you.

He will find the leak, and Hyunjin will pull the plug. You have to wait. With trembling hands, she slipped the small silver drive into the secret inner pocket of her school blazer, right against her ribs. She smoothed down her uniform, took a deep, shuddering breath, and sat back down on the piano bench. She forced her eyes to well up with tears, letting her shoulders slump into a posture of utter, defenseless grief.

Just as she lowered her head onto the cold ivory keys, the heavy oak door unlocked with a sharp click. Felix practically burst into the room. His blonde hair was slightly disheveled, and his breathing was shallow. The perfect, untouchable prince of Saint Jude’s looked genuinely unhinged.

The moment his dark, frantic eyes found her sitting safely at the piano, a visible wave of relief washed over his sharp features. He closed the door behind him, locking it instantly, and crossed the room in three long strides.

"Y/N," he breathed, dropping to his knees right beside the piano bench. His large, warm hands immediately locked around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling sharply. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I took so long. The Headmaster... it was a waste of time. A stupid bureaucratic distraction."

Y/N let out a soft, choked sob, her body trembling perfectly in his embrace. She didn't pull away. Instead, she let her arms wrap weakly around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder.

The contrast was agonizing—his body was so warm, his embrace felt so safe, yet he was the monster who had engineered her ruin. It took every ounce of her willpower not to scream.

"Felix..." she whispered, her voice cracking with a sorrow that was terrifyingly genuine. "I was so scared. The thunder... and I thought you weren't coming back. I thought they finally convinced you to leave me." Felix’s grip tightened until it was almost painful.

He pulled back just enough to look into her face, his thumbs frantically wiping the real tears from her cheeks. His eyes were wide, burning with a frantic, toxic intensity. "Never," Felix swore, his deep baritone cracking with raw emotion. He leaned in, his forehead resting firmly against hers.

"I told you, didn't I? You're mine. No one in this school, no one in this world, can take you away from me. I will destroy anyone who tries." He believed his own lie. He genuinely believed he was her savior. He was so deeply intoxicated by her tears, so consumed by his need to be her ultimate protector, that he couldn't see the cold, dead stillness returning to her eyes behind the veil of her crying.

"I believe you," Y/N whispered smoothly, letting her hand rest gently over his heart. Beneath the fabric of his expensive uniform, his heart was racing violently. He is entirely dependent on my submission, she realized. If I take it away too fast, he will snap. I have to bleed him dry, drop by drop.

The next day, Y/N didn't confront Felix. She didn't look at Hyunjin. She didn't change a single detail of her daily routine.

During Macroeconomics, she sat quietly by Felix’s side. When his hand slid onto her thigh under the desk, squeezing possessively every time the professor mentioned financial investments, she didn't flinch. She simply turned her head, offered him a small, fragile, grateful smile, and let her fingers lightly rest over his knuckles.

Felix’s smirk was unbearable. He looked like a god looking down at his creation, entirely convinced of his absolute victory. But during the lunch break, while Felix was pulled away by Bang Chan to discuss an upcoming family board meeting, Y/N made her first, microscopic move. She didn't go to the disciplinary board. She didn't go to Chan.

Instead, she walked down to the basement archives where the old student records were kept. It was a dusty, forgotten part of the school, usually locked, but the lock was old and easily bypassed with a plastic student ID card. She sat in the dim light of a single desk lamp, pulling out the encrypted flash drive Hyunjin had given her. She plugged it into a public, unmonitored terminal in the back corner of the room.

The files opened with a quiet hum. There it was. Page after page of financial data. The Lee family’s subsidiary banks had systematically bought up her father’s small logistics company's debt, artificially inflated the interest rates overnight through a legal loophole, and then forced a foreclosure.

But as Y/N scrolled deeper into the hidden metadata of the files, her eyes narrowed. The authorizations for the interest rate hikes weren't signed by Felix’s father. They were signed by a junior account manager whose digital signature had been overridden by a high-clearance family bypass code.

A code that belonged strictly to a student account. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, a cold sweat breaking out across her palms. Felix didn't just ask his father to do this,she thought, her mind reeling from the sheer horror of it. Felix handled the financial transactions himself. He used his family’s elite clearance to bankrupt my parents from his laptop in his dorm room.

He had been playing this game from the very beginning, treating her family’s livelihood like a chess match before he even knew the sound of her voice. "Finding what you looking for?" Y/N violently slammed the laptop shut, her heart leaping into her throat as she spun around. Standing in the shadows of the archive shelves, his arms crossed over his chest, was Kim Seungmin.

His sharp eyes were hidden behind the reflection of his glasses, his expression entirely unreadable. Y/N felt a paralyzing wave of fear lock her muscles. If Seungmin saw the drive, if he realized what she was looking at, the game was over before it even began.

She forced herself to breathe, letting a flush of embarrassed, caught-red-handed guilt color her cheeks. She quickly pulled the drive from the terminal and hid it in her fist, standing up defensively. "Seungmin," she stammered, her voice trembling slightly. "I was just... I was trying to look up my scholarship renewal guidelines. The main office wouldn't give me a straight answer."

Seungmin walked out of the shadows, his footsteps silent on the concrete floor. He stopped a few feet away, looking down at the closed laptop, then at her tightly clenched fist. A small, chilling smile played on his lips. "You're a very bad liar, Y/N," Seungmin said softly, his voice carrying that lethal, detached intelligence. "But don't worry. I’m not going to tell Felix you're down here snooping. In fact... I think it’s fascinating."

Y/N frowned, keeping her guard up. "What do you mean?" "Felix thinks he has you completely broken," Seungmin murmured, stepping closer, his gaze dropping to her hand. "He told Chan that you're entirely compliant now. But I know a cornered animal when I see one. You aren't broken, Y/N. You're just waiting." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper that made her skin crawl.

"Hyunjin thinks this is a game. Felix thinks it’s love. But I know the math. If you find what you're looking for, let me know. I like a clean narrative... and Felix’s story is getting far too messy."

Without another word, Seungmin turned around and walked out of the archives, leaving Y/N alone in the dark. She looked down at her fist, slowly opening her fingers to reveal the silver drive.

The web was growing larger. Hyunjin was watching for entertainment. Seungmin was watching for logic. Felix was blinded by his own toxic ego. Everyone was waiting for her to move the first piece. But Y/N wasn't going to rush. She slipped the drive back into her blazer, a cold, dark smile finally touching her lips in the shadows of the archive.

Let them watch, she thought. Let Felix believe he owns me for a little while longer. The longer he stays in paradise, the harder he will hit the ground when I finally cut the strings.

For the next two weeks, Y/N became a ghost wrapped in silk. She did not alter her trajectory by a single millimeter. When Felix held her hand during assembly, she let her fingers melt perfectly into his. When he pressed his lips against her temple in the crowded hallways—a blatant, arrogant display of ownership to deter the upperclassmen—she leaned into his chest, letting out the soft, contented sigh he always listened for.

She was feeding the monster exactly what it needed to fall asleep. And it was working. Felix’s frantic, erratic edge began to soften into a heavy, smug complacency. He no longer dragged her into dark rooms to violently question her loyalty; instead, he brought her expensive pastries, left imported chocolates in her locker, and watched her eat them with a look of profound, terrifying affection.

He truly believed he had cured her fear with his luxury. He believed he had won her soul. But beneath the surface, Y/N was systematically mapping out his digital life. She didn't use the school computers anymore.

Instead, she used the late-night hours in her tiny, quiet bedroom at home. Using the encrypted bypass codes she had pulled from Hyunjin's flash drive, she slowly, meticulously traced the digital footprint of the student account that had authorized her father's financial ruin.

It was a slow, grueling process. She could only check a few lines of code a night to avoid triggering the Lee family's automated security alerts. But line by line, the trap was being laid. On a foggy Tuesday evening, the trap found its first anchor. Felix had invited her to his family’s private penthouse overlooking the city. It was a sprawling, clinical masterpiece of glass, white marble, and minimalist furniture—a place that felt less like a home and more like a high-end gallery.

"Do you like the view, sweetheart?" Felix stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms securely around her waist. He wore a soft, expensive cashmere sweater, his blonde hair falling loosely across his forehead. He looked entirely harmless, like an angel stepping out of a painting. He rested his chin on her shoulder, his deep baritone vibrating against her collarbone.

"It's beautiful, Felix," Y/N whispered, her eyes tracking the tiny headlights of the cars crawling through the fog far below. "It feels like... we're the only two people left in the world up here." Felix let out a low, shuddering breath of pure satisfaction, his grip tightening around her.

"That’s exactly how it should be. Just you and me. No scholarship boards, no whispering classmates. Just us." Y/N turned slightly in his arms, looking up into his dark eyes. She let a soft, hesitant look cross her features—a perfect imitation of a girl trying to overcome a deep-seated insecurity.

"Felix?" she murmured, her fingers gently tangling into the soft fabric of his sweater. "Hmm?" "Sometimes... I still worry," she lied softly, letting her eyelashes flutter down. "I look at this place, and I look at your family, and I feel so small. I’m always afraid that one day, your father will find out about me, or your family's lawyers will look into my background... and they'll force you to push me away." Felix’s expression instantly shifted.

The soft, relaxed boy vanished, replaced by a sudden, intense surge of dark, protective arrogance. A cold, proud smirk touched his lips. He reached up, his large hand cupping her jawline, forcing her to look directly into his eyes. "My father doesn't dictate what I keep, Y/N,"

He whispered, his voice dropping into that terrifyingly deep, authoritative register. He leaned in until his breath brushed her lips. "I handle the family's local assets myself now. I have my own clearance codes. My father couldn't touch you even if he wanted to. I’ve secured you completely."

There it is, Y/N thought, a sudden, icy thrill running down her spine. The verbal confirmation. "Really?" she breathed, letting her eyes widen with a beautiful, engineered mix of awe and relief. "You... you did all that for me?" "I told you," Felix murmured, his gaze darkening with an intense, intoxicating affection as he leaned down to press a slow, deep kiss against her lips.

The taste of him was dangerous, a sweet poison she had learned to swallow without flinching. "I would dismantle this entire city before I let them take you back to where you came from. You belong to me." As he held her tightly against his chest in the dark penthouse, Y/N closed her eyes, her face hidden in his shoulder. The disgust she felt was a burning acid in her throat, but her mind was entirely calm. He had just handed her the final piece of the puzzle. He had admitted, out loud, that he possessed the exclusive operational clearance over the local assets—the exact assets used to foreclose on her father’s business.

The next morning at school, Y/N initiated Phase Two. She didn't go to Hyunjin, and she didn't go to Seungmin. Instead, during the morning recess, she waited until the courtyard was bustling with students before she approached the one person who truly held the power to shatter Felix's world.

Bang Chan. He was sitting alone at a concrete table under the old oak tree, reviewing a stack of student council files, a cup of black coffee steaming beside him. He looked up as her shadow fell over the table. His eyes narrowed instantly, his heavy, protective demeanor locking into place. "Y/N," Chan said, his voice flat, cautious. "Felix is inside with Han. If you're looking for him—" "I’m not looking for Felix, Chan," Y/N interrupted softly.

She didn't shrink away from his intimidating gaze this time. Instead, she sat down across from him, her posture perfectly straight, her eyes entirely devoid of the tears and fear she usually wore like armor. Chan paused, his pen hovering over the paper. He detected the shift in her aura immediately.

The fragile scholarship girl was gone; sitting in front of him was someone entirely different. "I remember what you told me at the gala," Y/N said, her voice terrifyingly calm, keeping her volume low enough that the passing students couldn't hear. "You said you protect your own. You said Felix is your brother, and that I am just a distraction."

Chan leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes tracking her every movement. "I meant what I said." "I know," Y/N replied, a small, cold smile touching the corners of her lips. She reached into her bag and pulled out a single, neatly folded sheet of paper—a printed log of the digital signature that had overridden her father’s foreclosure, paired with the verbal confirmation timestamp from Felix's penthouse security logs, which she had successfully bypassed using Hyunjin's drive.

She slid the paper across the concrete table, placing her hand over it. "But what happens, Chan," Y/N whispered, leaning forward, her eyes locking onto his with a lethal, unblinking intensity, "when your 'brother' starts committing corporate fraud using his family's high-clearance bypass codes? What happens when the Lee family’s legal team realizes that Felix used a protected student terminal to illegally manipulate bank interest rates for a personal... obsession?" Chan’s face went entirely pale. He didn't pick up the paper immediately, but his eyes darted to the legal headers printed at the top of the page. He knew the format. He knew exactly what those codes meant.

"Where did you get this?" Chan demanded, his voice dropping into a dangerous, gravelly hiss. "It doesn't matter where I got it," Y/N whispered smoothly, her smile widening just a fraction. "What matters is that Seungmin's family handles the school's PR. And if this gets leaked to the press, it won't just ruin Felix. It will destroy Saint Jude's reputation, and it will expose the fact that the student council—and you, Chan—failed to monitor the elite terminals." Chan’s hands clenched into fists on the table. He looked at her as if he were seeing a ghost.

"You're threatening me?" "No," Y/N corrected gently, her voice as smooth as velvet. "I’m giving you a chance to protect your own. I don't want to destroy the school. I just want my family's debt wiped clean, and a signed confession from Felix's personal account, admitting to the manipulation. You have three days to convince him to sign it quietly, Chan. Before I show this to the board." She stood up, smoothing down her skirt, leaving the paper on the table.

"And Chan?" she added, looking down at him one last time with a gaze that was entirely, beautifully frozen. "Don't bother telling Felix. If he finds out I’m the one pulling the strings... he might just do something reckless. And we both know how much you hate a messy cleanup." She turned on her heel and walked away into the crowd of students, her heart beating with a ferocious, triumphant rhythm.

Broken Kings

Obsessive!Felix x Reader Warnings: obsessive behavior , deep obsession , emotional manipulation , unhealthy attachment

At Saint Jude’s Academy, the devils wear angel faces. Felix was supposed to be my downfall—instead, he decided I was his only religion. And a broken king never lets his prey escape.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Part 5

The following days felt like walking through an active minefield. The psychological pressure didn't lessen, but the axis on which it tilted had fundamentally changed.

Felix was no longer just watching Y/N to ensure her compliance; he was watching her to ensure her devotion. Under the desks, behind the closed doors of empty lecture halls, his physical intimacy became frantic, almost desperate. He would pull her into alcoves just to press his forehead against her neck, breathing her in as if she were an anchor keeping him from drifting away. He was deeply addicted to the helpless, tearful submission she kept feeding him.

But Y/N knew that a house built on lies has a fragile foundation. And the first crack came from a direction she hadn't anticipated.

"You're getting sloppy, Felix."

The voice cut through the quiet of the student lounge. The room was empty save for the inner circle. Felix was sitting on a leather sofa, his legs crossed elegantly, a tablet in his hand. Bang Chan was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, while Kim Seungmin sat at a nearby table, surrounded by manila folders and a tablet of his own.

Felix didn't look up from his screen. "I don't know what you're talking about, Seungmin."

"Don't play dumb. It doesn't suit your GPA," Seungmin said, tossing a printout onto the coffee table in front of Felix. "The rumor mill is cannibalizing itself. Hyunjin and Han are confused because you're treating the scholarship girl like glass instead of a toy. And the disciplinary board just received an anonymous tip about the vandalism on her locker three months ago."

Felix’s fingers froze against the screen of his tablet. Slowly, he raised his eyes. The angelic demeanor was completely gone, replaced by a cold, aristocratic detachment. "And?"

"And the IP address used to coordinate the campus security blind spots during that vandalism tracks back to a VPN registered under your family’s holding company," Seungmin delivered smoothly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. His analytical eyes were unreadable. "Chan might overlook your little psychological experiments because he protects you. But if this gets out, it damages the school's reputation. And my family's firm handles the school's PR. I don't like messy cleanups."

Bang Chan turned around from the window, his expression heavy. "Felix. Is this true? Did you leave a digital trail?"

Felix let out a low, dangerous laugh, tossing his tablet onto the sofa. "I don't make mistakes like that, Seungmin. Whoever dug that up had to bypass three layers of firewalls. Someone is actively looking for a way to ruin me."

"Or," Seungmin countered, his voice dropping to a whisper, "someone is feeding information to the board from the inside. Someone who has been spending a lot of time alone with you."

Felix’s jaw clenched so hard a sharp line formed along his cheekbone. Y/N.

The thought hit his mind like a drop of acid. Could she? No. He had seen her eyes. He had felt her trembling hands clutching his lapel, begging him not to throw her away. She was entirely dependent on him. She didn't have the resources, the intellect, or the cold blood required to hack into a Lee family server.

...Did she?

"Look into it, Seungmin," Chan ordered quietly, his voice carrying the finality of a leader. "Find out where the leak is. If it's the girl, she's gone by the end of the week. Scholarship or not."

Y/N was sitting in the courtyard, a half-eaten apple resting on the stone bench beside her, when she felt the shift in the air.

The afternoon sun was warm, but a sudden shadow blocked the light. She looked up, expecting Felix’s possessive smile. Instead, she found herself staring into the cold, calculated gaze of Lee Felix, the heir to the Lee empire.

He didn't speak. He simply reached down, grabbed her upper arm with a grip that was entirely devoid of his usual manufactured gentleness, and pulled her to her feet.

"Felix? What's wrong? You're hurting me," Y/N whispered, her voice instinctively taking on the fragile, frightened tone she had perfected. Her heart gave a very real, violent thud against her ribs. His eyes were different today. The dark, swirling jealousy was gone, replaced by something much worse: absolute suspicion.

He didn't answer. He dragged her through the side entrance of the science building, down into the isolated basement corridors where the old research labs were kept. He pushed open the door to a dark, decommissioned anatomy theater, shoving her inside before locking the heavy oak door behind them.

The room was suffocatingly dark, smelling of dust and old chemicals. The only light came from the small, frosted window near the ceiling.

"Felix, please, you're scaring me," Y/N cried out, backing away until her thighs hit the edge of a tiered wooden desk.

Felix stepped into the faint shaft of light. His face was a mask of porcelain cruelty. He walked toward her slowly, backing her up until she was forced to lean back against the desk. He didn't trap her with his hands this time; he stood right in front of her, looming over her like an executioner.

"Did you think you were clever, Y/N?" he asked, his voice dropping into that terrifyingly deep, guttural register. It vibrated through the small room, making the air feel heavy. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

Y/N’s mind spun into overdrive, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of her neck. The leak. Something had gone wrong. She hadn't leaked anything—she didn't have the technical skills to hack him, and she knew she hadn't spoken to anyone but Chan and Seungmin. But someone was moving pieces on the board without her knowledge.

"Find out what?" she choked out, letting real tears pool in her eyes. She reached out, her hands trembling as she tried to touch his chest, but Felix caught her wrists in one large hand, pinning them down against the wooden desk beside her hip.

"Someone leaked the digital footprints of your locker's vandalism to the disciplinary board," Felix whispered, leaning down until his lips were brushing against her cheek, his breath hot and ragged. "Seungmin thinks it's you. He thinks my little stray is actually a fox trying to bite the hand that feeds her."

Y/N looked into his eyes, mere inches from her own. She saw the violent battle raging inside his soul. He wanted to destroy her for defying him, but beneath the cruelty, she saw a profound, agonizing fear in his eyes. He wasn't just mad she might have betrayed him; he was heartbroken. He had let his guard down, he had started to feel something genuine when she held his hand, and the mere thought that she had been playing him was tearing him apart.

In that split second of terror, Y/N realized this was her most dangerous gamble yet. If she denied it weakly, he would believe Seungmin. She had to lean entirely into the psychological trap he had built for her. She had to make her pain bigger than his suspicion.

"Then let them expel me," Y/N sobbed, her voice breaking completely with a raw, agonizing despair. She stopped fighting his grip on her wrists. She let her head fall back against the desk, exposing her throat, her chest heaving with violent, genuine tears. "Let them throw me out, Felix! If you think I could ever hurt you... if you truly believe that after everything I told you, I was just lying... then I don't want to be here anyway!"

Felix froze, his grip on her wrists loosening just a fraction.

"I have nothing in this world," Y/N screamed softly through her tears, looking up at him with a gaze so shattered, so utterly broken, it made his own chest tighten painfully. "My family is drowning in debt. The students here hate me. I endure the whispers every single day. And the only reason I don't walk out that gate and never come back is because of you. Because you told me I was yours. Because I believed you actually cared if I survived!"

She choked on a sob, turning her face away from him. "If you think I’m a snake, Felix... then crush me. Do it. Because losing the scholarship means nothing compared to knowing you look at me and see an enemy."

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the sound of Y/N’s ragged breathing and her quiet, devastating sobs.

Felix stared at her. His chest was aching with a violent, dizzying intensity. He looked at her tear-stained face, her complete surrender, the absolute lack of self-defense. A hacker would have argued. A conspirator would have demanded evidence. But Y/N was just... broken. Mortally wounded by the fact that he didn't trust her.

The toxic, possessive love he felt for her swelled up, completely suffocating his rationality. The suspicion vanished, burned away by the sheer, intoxicating validation of her words. She didn't care about the school. She didn't care about the money. She only cared about him.

"Y/N..." Felix breathed, his voice cracking.

He let go of her wrists entirely. Instead, his large hands moved up to cup her face, his thumbs frantically wiping away her tears. His touch was no longer cruel; it was desperate, pleading. He leaned down, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his body trembling against hers.

"I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sweetheart," Felix whispered into her skin, his deep voice thick with an emotion he could no longer control. He squeezed her waist, pulling her so close there wasn't a single millimeter of space between them. "I had to be sure. I had to know. Seungmin is wrong. I’ll handle him. I’ll handle the board. No one is throwing you out. You're mine, remember? I won't let them touch you."

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his blonde hair, crying softly into his shoulder as he held her like a man clinging to a life raft in a storm.

But as her face was hidden from him in the darkness of the anatomy theater, her tears slowly stopped. Her eyes opened, stark, clear, and completely cold in the shadows.

She had survived the executioner’s block. She had successfully blinded the master manipulator with his own toxic ego. But as she clung to him, a new, chilling thought crossed her mind.

If I didn't leak that information... who did?

The game was no longer just between her and Felix. Someone else was moving pieces in the dark, and Felix had just promised to protect her from the very storm they were both about to walk into.

The aftermath of the basement confrontation was a strange, suffocating paradise. To the rest of Saint Jude’s Academy, Felix had made his stance terrifyingly clear. He no longer hid his hyper-fixation behind the facade of a helpful classmate. He sat next to Y/N in every single lecture, his hand casually resting on her thigh under the desk, a silent, public warning to anyone who dared to look her way.

Kim Seungmin had stopped asking questions—at least publicly—after Felix reportedly had a private, closed-door meeting with him and Chan. Whatever Felix had said or promised, it had bought Y/N temporary immunity. But while Felix believed he had successfully locked his favorite bird securely in her cage, Y/N’s mind was working frantically behind her submissive smile.

Someone else knows, she thought, staring at the blackboard while Felix idly traced senseless patterns onto the back of her hand with his thumb. Someone knew about the vandalism. Someone hacked the Lee family servers. And whoever it is, they used me as a catalyst to make Felix unravel. The answer came on a rainy Thursday afternoon. Felix had been called away to the Headmaster’s office—a rare occurrence that visibly agitated him. He had practically ordered Y/N to remain in the empty music room until he returned, kissing her forehead with a lingering, desperate possessiveness before locking the door from the outside.

Y/N sat at the grand piano, her fingers resting lightly on the cold ivory keys. The rhythmic tapping of the rain against the stained-glass windows was the only sound. Click. The lock on the side door—the one leading to the old auditorium backstage—turned slowly. Y/N’s muscles instantly locked. Fear, sharp and icy, flooded her chest.

She didn't move, her breath catching as the door creaked open. A slender, elegant figure stepped out of the shadows.

"You play your part beautifully, Y/N. Truly. I almost shed a tear watching you in the courtyard the other day." It was Hwang Hyunjin. He didn't have his usual mocking smirk. Instead, his expression was completely detached, his long, dark hair damp from the rain.

He walked into the room with a quiet, cat-like grace, sliding his hands into his pockets as he approached the piano. Y/N stood up, backing away until her lower back hit the mahogany edge of the instrument. She kept her face perfectly composed, slipping into the vulnerable persona Felix had conditioned her to wear.

"Hyunjin... what are you doing here? Felix told me to wait—" "Felix isn't coming back for at least an hour," Hyunjin interrupted smoothly, stopping just a few feet away. He leaned against the side of the piano, looking down at her with an amused glint in his eyes. "I made sure the Headmaster found a very interesting discrepancy in the Lee family’s endowment fund. It takes time to untangle that much money."

Y/N’s heart gave a violent leap. The endowment fund. The hacker. "It was you," she whispered, the realization hitting her like a physical blow. Her voice genuinely trembled this time. "You were the one who leaked the digital footprint of the vandalism to Seungmin. You hacked Felix’s family." Hyunjin let out a soft, melodic laugh, a sound entirely devoid of warmth.

"Me? Heavens, no. I’m a dancer, sweetheart, not a software engineer. But I have resources. And more importantly, I have eyes." He leaned closer, his shadow falling completely over her. "Felix thinks he’s the ultimate puppet master. He’s spent years manipulating everyone in our circle, subtly pitting us against each other so he can remain Chan’s favorite, the untouchable prince. But then you arrived. And I noticed something fascinating."

Hyunjin reached out, his long, delicate fingers gently picking up a strand of Y/N’s hair, examining it before letting it drop. "Every time he tries to break you, you don't shatter. You bend. You cry exactly when he needs you to cry. You look at him with those big, terrified eyes, and he drinks it up like a fool. He thinks he’s winning the game... but you’re the one rewriting the rules." Y/N felt a cold sweat break out across her collarbone.

The psychological safety she had built around herself was evaporating. Hyunjin had bypassed her defenses entirely because he wasn’t playing the same game Felix was. Felix was blinded by his desire for her devotion; Hyunjin was just a bored observer looking to watch the empire burn. "I don't know what you're talking about," Y/N lied, her voice cracking as she forced tears to the surface.

"He’s forcing me to be here. I’m terrified of him." "Oh, stop it," Hyunjin sighed, rolling his eyes in genuine boredom. "Save the tears for the blonde idiot. They don't work on me. I’m not jealous of you, Y/N. I’m entertained by you. You managed to turn Lee Felix into a frantic, trembling mess just by exposing your neck. That is a work of art." He stepped back, his expression turning cold and business-like.

"But here’s the problem: the game is getting boring. Felix is getting sloppy, and it’s affecting our group's standing. Seungmin is irritated, and Chan is getting suspicious. So, I’m going to accelerate the timeline."

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, her mind racing, trying to find a exit strategy. "I’m going to give you a choice," Hyunjin said, pulling a small, encrypted flash drive from his pocket and placing it gently on the piano keys. It made a sharp, echoing clack in the quiet room.

"On this drive is the complete financial record of the debt your family owes to the Lee family’s subsidiary banks. It proves that Felix’s father purposefully manipulated the interest rates to bankrupt your parents—strictly so Felix could have a reason to bring you to Saint Jude’s on a 'scholarship'."

The room went entirely silent. Y/N felt the floor tilt beneath her feet. A profound, heartbreaking wave of betrayal and raw horror washed over her. She knew Felix was manipulative, she knew he had ordered the vandalism—but this?

He hadn't just created a fire to play the hero. He had destroyed her family's entire life, systematically ruining her parents, just to position himself as her sole savior. The tears that spilled over her eyelashes now were completely real. Her chest ached with a violent, agonizing pain. He had stolen her entire future before he even introduced himself.

Hyunjin watched her reaction, a satisfied smile slowly returning to his face. "There's the real Y/N. Heartbreaking, isn't it? He ruined you before he ever met you." He tapped the flash drive with his finger.

"You can take this, give it to Bang Chan, and watch the Lee family handle the scandal. Felix will be sent away to Europe, and your family's debt will be wiped clean to buy your silence. You win. You get your life back." Y/N looked from the flash drive up to Hyunjin’s dark, mocking eyes. "And what’s the catch?"

"The catch," Hyunjin whispered, leaning in one last time, "is that if you do that, the game ends. And I want to see how far you can push him. If you show him this drive... if you let him know that you know... his mind will completely fracture. He will realize his perfect illusion is gone. So, do you run away with your freedom? Or do you stay, use this knife, and destroy him from the inside out?" Hyunjin turned on his heel, walking back toward the backstage door.

Before he stepped into the dark, he paused, looking over his shoulder. "Choose wisely, sweetheart. Felix will be back in ten minutes. And he hates it when his things look... broken." The door clicked shut, leaving Y/N alone with the roaring sound of the rain, her racing heart, and the small, silver drive resting on the piano keys like a loaded gun.

She stared at it, her tears drying as a toxic, freezing coldness took root in her soul. The victim Felix had created was officially dead. The heartbreak was gone, replaced by a dark, consuming hunger for absolute ruin. She reached out, her fingers closing tightly around the cold metal of the drive.

Broken Kings

Obsessive!Felix x Reader Warnings: obsessive behavior , deep obsession , emotional manipulation , unhealthy attachment

At Saint Jude’s Academy, the devils wear angel faces. Felix was supposed to be my downfall—instead, he decided I was his only religion. And a broken king never lets his prey escape.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Part 4

By Monday morning, the atmosphere at Saint Jude’s Academy had shifted. The high-society gala was over, but the invisible shockwaves left in its wake remained.

As Y/N walked down the grand, echoing corridors of the main building, the whispers were different. They were no longer just mocking; they were laced with a sharp, ugly curiosity. Word had spread about the midnight-blue gown, about Felix pulling her into the shadows of the Kim estate, and most dangerous of all, about Bang Chan intervening.

Y/N kept her chin up, clutching her textbooks to her chest like a shield. She could feel the eyes on her back. But for the first time, she wasn’t just feeling the suffocating weight of their judgment—she was analyzing it.

"Look at her. She actually thinks that dress bought her a seat at the table."

Y/N didn't have to turn around to know the voice belonged to Han Jisung. He was leaning against a row of lockers, a smirk playing on his lips, while Hwang Hyunjin stood beside him, idly twirling a high-end designer pen between his long fingers.

"Let it go, Han," Hyunjin murmured, though his dark, mocking eyes never left Y/N as she approached. "Felix is just amusing himself. You know how he gets when he finds a new pet. He likes to see how much stress the structure can take before it collapses."

The words cut through Y/N, a cold reminder of the reality she was playing with. To them, she was an entertainment piece. A psychological experiment. Her chest tightened with a sudden, painful spike of genuine fear. What if she miscalculated? What if Felix realized she was playing along and decided to crush her completely?

"Is that what he told you, Hyunjin?" Y/N stopped, turning to face them. Her voice was steady, but she allowed a flicker of fragile, defensive anger to show on her face—the exact reaction they expected from a cornered scholarship student.

Hyunjin’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, surprised that she had actually spoken to him. Before he could answer, a shadow fell over the hallway. "I don't remember giving either of you permission to speak to my classmate."

Felix appeared from the intersecting hallway. The bright, sunny smile he usually wore for the faculty was entirely absent. He walked with a slow, deliberate grace, his hands shoved carelessly into his uniform pockets. But the tension in his jaw was palpable.

Han instantly held up his hands, his smirk widening into a nervous grin. "Just making conversation, Lix. No offense intended."

Felix didn't look at Han. His eyes were locked entirely on Y/N, tracking the subtle rise and fall of her chest, checking for the fear he so deeply craved to control. He stepped into her personal space, effectively cutting off Hyunjin and Han from her field of vision.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" Felix asked, his voice dropping into that smooth, deceptive sweetness. He reached out, his long fingers gently adjusting the collar of her uniform shirt. The touch was agonizingly slow, a public display of ownership that made the surrounding students go completely silent. "You look pale. Did they upset you?"

Y/N felt Hyunjin’s sharp gaze burning into her side. She knew what Felix was doing. He was using his friends to terrify her, only to step in as her savior once again. It was a vicious, repeating cycle.

She swallowed hard, letting her eyelids flutter down briefly as if his touch was the only thing keeping her grounded. "I'm fine, Felix. Just... tired."

"Good," Felix murmured, his thumb brushing against her jawline before he dropped his hand. "Come. We have seminar."

As they walked away, Y/N caught sight of Han and Hyunjin exchanging a long, uneasy glance. Felix’s possessiveness was becoming too loud, too erratic. He was breaking his own rule of keeping his games invisible.

The advanced seminar room was empty when they arrived, the professor not yet present. Felix walked to the back row, pulling out a chair for Y/N with mock chivalry.

The moment she sat down, Felix didn't take his own seat. Instead, he leaned over her desk, placing his hands on either side of her books, trapping her between his arms. The proximity was overwhelming. The scent of his woodsy cologne filled her senses, and the absolute darkness in his eyes made her breath catch in her throat.

"You didn't answer my text this morning," Felix whispered, his deep voice vibrating in the quiet room. He leaned closer, until his lips were inches from her ear. "I don't like being ignored, Y/N. It makes me think you're forgetting who keeps you safe in this school."

A wave of heartbreak, sharp and heavy, hit Y/N’s chest. It was exhausting to constantly face this monster, to know that the boy who looked so beautiful was utterly hollow inside, driven only by the need to dominate her mind. For a second, the urge to just burst into tears and beg him to leave her alone was almost overpowering. The sheer psychological pressure was suffocating.

But she forced herself to breathe through the pain. She remembered the look on his face on the terrace when she had turned his jealousy against him.

He’s insecure, she realized, looking closely at the tiny, frantic twitch in his pupils. He’s terrified that his grip is loosening because of what Chan and Seungmin said.

Y/N didn't pull back. Instead, she slowly raised her eyes to meet his, letting a single, genuine tear slip down her cheek. She didn't wipe it away. She let him see it.

"My phone battery died, Felix," she lied softly, her voice carrying a profound, heavy sadness that wasn't entirely fake. She reached up, her small hand gently covering his left hand on the desk. She felt his fingers twitch in surprise at her touch. "I wasn't ignoring you. I was... I was actually thinking about what you said at the gala."

Felix’s breath hitched. His eyes narrowed, his gaze dropping to her hand over his. "What about it?"

"You said... you decided I was yours the moment you met me," Y/N whispered, her voice laced with a delicate, heartbreaking vulnerability. She squeezed his hand just a little tighter, looking up at him as if he were her entire world. "Everyone else here looks at me like I’m dirt. Hyunjin, Han... even the teachers. You're the only one who looks at me like I exist. If I lose you, Felix... I don't have anyone else. That's why I was scared."

The silence in the room became absolute.

Felix stared at her, his entire body freezing. The toxic, smug satisfaction he usually felt when she cried didn't come. Instead, hearing her articulate her complete dependence on him—not out of fear of his threats, but out of a desperate need for him—sent a completely different, terrifying thrill through his soul.

He wasn't just the puppet master anymore. She was handing him her heart, and for the first time, Felix felt the heavy, suffocating weight of holding something fragile. He hadn't just broken her; he had made himself her absolute center. And the realization made his own chest ache with an unfamiliar, dizzying intensity.

Slowly, almost unconsciously, Felix turned his hand over beneath hers, his large fingers intertwining with hers, gripping them with a force that was almost painful.

"You won't lose me," Felix breathed, his voice dropping into a rough, uncalculated whisper. He leaned in so close his forehead almost touched hers, his eyes wide and consumed by a desperate, swirling emotion. "I won't let anyone else have you. I told you that. You're mine."

The door to the seminar room clicked open, and the professor walked in, followed by a handful of students.

Felix instantly pulled his hand back, straightening up and slipping into his perfect, polite posture before anyone could notice. He took his seat beside her, his face a calm, unreadable mask.

But under the desk, out of sight of the entire world, Felix’s hand remained tightly clenched into a fist, his knuckles white.

Y/N opened her notebook, her eyes fixed on the chalkboard. Her heart was beating violently against her ribs from the adrenaline, but as she sneaked a glance at Felix’s tense, rigid posture, a cold, quiet triumph washed over her.

Broken Kings

Obsessive!Felix x Reader Warnings: obsessive behavior , deep obsession , emotional manipulation , unhealthy attachment

At Saint Jude’s Academy, the devils wear angel faces. Felix was supposed to be my downfall—instead, he decided I was his only religion. And a broken king never lets his prey escape.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Part 3

The grand ballroom of the Kim Estate was a blur of gold leaf, sparkling crystal chandeliers, and the deceptive warmth of a classical string quartet. To the rest of Saint Jude’s Academy, Y/N was nothing more than Felix’s breathtaking, mysterious shadow. He kept her tightly tucked against his side, his hand never leaving the small of her back. Every introduction to a high-society politician or a tech CEO was a performance. Felix was the benevolent prince showing off a beautifully rescued stray.

But as the night wore on, the physical closeness began to take a psychological toll.

Felix’s touch wasn't just possessive; it was suffocating. Every time she breathed, she inhaled his cologne. Every time she moved, his fingers tightened subtly against her skin, dictating her speed, her direction, her very presence.

"Smile, sweetheart," Felix whispered against her ear, his deep voice sending a sharp chill through her veins. He offered a polite nod to a passing faculty member. "You look like you're attending a funeral, not a gala."

"My feet hurt, Felix," Y/N murmured back, her voice laced with genuine exhaustion. The heavy silk of the gown felt like armor that was slowly crushing her ribs. "I just need a moment to sit down."

Felix stopped walking. They were standing near the grand arched entrance to the terrace. He looked down at her, his expression a flawless masterpiece of gentle concern, but his eyes were ice-cold.

"Of course. I’m so selfish," he said softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek in a gesture that made several nearby girls whisper in envy. "Go catch your breath on the terrace. I’ll fetch you a glass of water. Don't wander off, Y/N. The gardens are far too big to get lost in."

It was a soft command wrapped in velvet. Stay where I put you.

Y/N nodded, stepping out into the cool evening air of the terrace. The contrast was instant. The wind bit into her bare shoulders, washing away the suffocating warmth of the ballroom. She walked over to the stone balustrade, gripping the cold marble, her chest heaving as she finally allowed her fake smile to drop.

"He really does keep you on a short leash, doesn't he?"

Y/N gasped, spinning around.

Leaning against a stone pillar in the shadows was Bang Chan. As the oldest and the undisputed leader of their social circle, Chan rarely participated in the petty cruelties of Hyunjin or the sharp interrogations of Seungmin. He possessed a quiet, heavy authority. He stood there, a glass of dark liquor in his hand, watching her with a look that wasn't malicious, but deeply pitying.

"Chan," Y/N breathed, her heart rate spiking again. "I didn't see you."

"Most people don't until it's too late," Chan said, stepping into the dim moonlight. He looked incredibly imposing in his tailored tuxedo, his eyes unreadable. He took a slow sip of his drink. "I’ve known Felix since we were children, Y/N. I know how his mind works. I know what he did to your locker. And I know why you're wearing a dress that costs more than your life."

Y/N felt the air leave her lungs. The sheer vulnerability of being exposed by the one person Felix actually respected made her knees shake. "If you know... why don't you stop him?"

Chan let out a low, humorless laugh, looking out over the manicured labyrinth gardens below. "Because Felix is a Lee. In our world, people like Felix get whatever they want, and people like you are just the price of admission. I protect my own, Y/N. Felix is my brother. You are a distraction."

The words cut deep, a brutal, heartbreaking reminder of just how powerless she truly was. There was no knight in shining armor coming to save her from this elite nightmare. Even Chan, who saw the cruelty, chose to look away.

But before Y/N could spiral into despair, Chan turned his gaze back to her, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But what I find interesting is you. Anyone else would have broken by now. Anyone else would have begged their parents to pull them out of this school. But you're still here. And tonight... you don't look like a victim, Y/N. You look like you're waiting for something."

Y/N’s breath hitched. She forced her expression to freeze, her mind racing. He’s observing me. If Chan realizes I’m trying to play Felix, he’ll destroy me to protect him.

"I’m just trying to survive, Chan," Y/N whispered, letting her voice crack, leaning into the raw, genuine heartbreak she felt. "I don't have a choice."

Chan stared at her for a long, agonizing moment, searching her face for a lie. Finally, he sighed, setting his glass down on the balustrade. "Just remember who you're dealing with. Felix doesn't like to lose his toys. If he thinks he's losing you, he won't just tighten the leash. He’ll break it."

"Is he bothering you?"

The voice cut through the darkness like a blade. Felix stepped onto the terrace, two crystal glasses of water in his hands. His posture was stiff, his jaw clenched so hard the muscles in his neck were strained. He had seen Chan talking to her.

Chan didn't even flinch. He simply picked up his glass, giving Felix a calm, knowing look. "Just keeping your guest company, Lix. Relax. She’s all yours." With a casual pat on Felix’s shoulder—a gesture that felt heavily laced with warning—Chan strolled back into the ballroom.

Felix didn't watch him leave. His eyes were locked on Y/N, dark and turbulent with a violent, possessive jealousy. He set the glasses down on a nearby table with a sharp clink that made Y/N flinch.

In two long strides, he bridged the distance between them, trapping her against the stone balustrade. His hands gripped the marble on either side of her hips, pinning her in place, his face mere inches from hers. The angelic boy was completely gone; this was the predator, unmasked and furious.

"What did he say to you?" Felix demanded, his voice dropping into a terrifying, gravelly whisper. "Tell me, Y/N. What did Chan say?"

Fear surged through her, cold and paralyzing. She could feel the erratic, heavy rise and fall of his chest. He was losing his composure. The perfect master manipulator was unraveling, all because he couldn't control what his oldest friend had said to his prize.

This is it, Y/N thought, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Don't pull back. Feed the monster.

Instead of shrinking away from his terrifying proximity, Y/N did something she had never done before. She reached up, her trembling fingers gently brushing against Felix’s lapel, her eyes wide, glistening with unshed tears. She looked directly into his wild, angry eyes, exposing her neck in a deliberate show of complete vulnerability.

"He told me I don't belong here," Y/N whispered, her voice trembling perfectly, a mix of fear and deep, manufactured sorrow. "He told me that I’m just a distraction to you... and that you'll get bored of me. Felix... is that true? Are you going to throw me away?"

Felix froze.

The question hit him like a physical blow. He stared at her, his gaze dropping to her trembling hands on his jacket, then up to the desperate, heartbreaking look in her eyes. The anger in his chest suddenly clashed with something else—a profound, intoxicating rush of power. She wasn't fighting him. She was begging him for reassurance. She was entirely, beautifully dependent on him.

"No," Felix breathed, his voice suddenly losing its venom, replaced by an intense, almost frantic desperation. He grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands away from his chest, but he didn't let go. He held her hands tightly against his own heart. "No, Y/N. Chan doesn't know anything. I’m not throwing you away. You're mine. I decided that the moment I met you."

He leaned down, his forehead resting against hers, his breath erratic. He was intoxicated by her submission, completely blind to the fact that he had just answered her question with genuine emotion. He wasn't just pulling the strings anymore; he was reacting to her pain.

Beneath her mask of terror, Y/N felt a cold, sharp thrill run through her veins.

Broken Kings

Obsessive!Felix x Reader Warnings: obsessive behavior , deep obsession , emotional manipulation , unhealthy attachment

At Saint Jude’s Academy, the devils wear angel faces. Felix was supposed to be my downfall—instead, he decided I was his only religion. And a broken king never lets his prey escape.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Part 2

The days leading up to the annual Saint Jude’s Autumn Gala were a lesson in isolation for Y/N.

Felix’s manipulation wasn't always loud or violent; most of the time, it was as quiet as a choking fog. In the hallways, he no longer walked by her side. Instead, he watched her from afar, surrounded by his usual circle—Bang Chan, Hyunjin, and Han. He would catch her eye across the crowded courtyard, offer a devastatingly sweet, innocent smile, and then look away, leaving Y/N to navigate the hostile whispers of the elite alone.

It was a punishment. A silent reminder of what her life looked like without his protection, all because she had accepted a piece of chocolate from Changbin.

He’s starving me out, Y/N thought as she sat in her tiny, dimly lit bedroom at home, staring at her worn-out school uniform. He wants me to beg for his attention again.

Her chest ached with a suffocating mix of anxiety and a bitter, heartbreaking sense of betrayal. The worst part of Felix’s game was that a part of her truly missed the warmth he used to fake so well. When he held her hand or told her she belonged at Saint Jude's, it felt so real. Falling for his trap didn't just make her afraid; it made her feel incredibly lonely.

A sudden, sharp vibration from her phone broke the silence.

Felix: Check your front door, sweetheart.

Y/N’s heart leaped into her throat. Fear, cold and familiar, gripped her. How did he know she was awake? How did he always seem to know exactly where she was?

She crept down the creaking stairs of her parents' modest house, her hands shaking as she unlocked the front door. Resting on the porch was a massive, pristine white box tied with a heavy black silk ribbon. Attached to it was a small, elegant card with Felix’s neat, cursive handwriting:

“Every Cinderella needs a godfather. Wear this tomorrow night. A car will pick you up at seven. Don't be late.”

When Y/N opened the box, her breath caught. Cascading out of the silk paper was a breathtaking, midnight-blue evening gown. The fabric felt like liquid starlight beneath her fingers. It was worth more than her family’s entire annual income.

It wasn't a gift. It was a uniform. He was branding her as his.

The Saint Jude’s Gala was held at the Kim Estate, a sprawling mansion surrounded by manicured labyrinth gardens. When the sleek black town car Felix had sent dropped Y/N off, she felt entirely naked despite the heavy luxury of the dress.

As she walked up the marble steps, the flashing lights of photographers and the glint of expensive diamonds on the guests made her dizzy. She didn't belong here. Every glance from the passing high-society matrons felt like a scalpel cutting into her skin.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in. And in haute couture, no less."

Y/N froze. Turning around, she faced Kim Seungmin.

Unlike Hyunjin’s loud arrogance, Seungmin possessed a quiet, lethal intelligence. He adjusted his glasses, his sharp, analytical eyes scanning Y/N from head to toe, pausing on the unique, custom embroidery of her dress.

"That’s a one-of-a-kind piece from the Lee family's private designer," Seungmin said, his voice terrifyingly calm as he stepped closer, holding a glass of champagne. "Fascinating. I didn't know scholarship students could afford the interest rates on a lease like that. Or did someone buy it for you?"

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat tight with panic. "It’s none of your business, Seungmin."

"Everything that threatens the ecosystem of this school is my business," Seungmin countered softly, leaning in. His gaze was entirely devoid of warmth. "Felix is playing a very strange game with you, Y/N. And I’m trying to figure out if you’re his accomplice, or just a very stupid lamb marching into a slaughterhouse. My advice? Run before you get caught in the crossfire. His family doesn't tolerate... charity cases."

Before Y/N could find her voice, a heavy, warm hand settled firmly on the small of her back. The touch was possessive, pushing her gently forward.

"Is there a problem here, Seungmin?"

Felix stepped out of the shadows of the grand foyer. He looked utterly lethal in a tailored black velvet suit, his blonde hair slicked back, exposing the sharp, aristocratic lines of his face. He smiled at Seungmin, but the smile was a warning. His fingers pressed firmly into Y/N’s waist through the fabric of her dress, a silent command for her to stay still.

Seungmin raised his glass in a mock toast. "No problem at all, Felix. Just admiring your... charity work. See you inside." With a final, lingering look at Y/N, Seungmin disappeared into the ballroom.

The moment Seungmin was out of sight, the smile dropped from Felix’s face. He turned Y/N around roughly, pulling her into a secluded alcove hidden behind a heavy velvet curtain.

The transition from the bright, crowded gala to the dim, claustrophobic intimacy of the alcove made Y/N’s head spin. Felix crowded her against the wall, his body pinning her in place. The scent of his cologne, mixed with the expensive wine on his breath, was intoxicatingly dangerous.

"What did he say to you?" Felix demanded, his voice dropping into that deep, gravelly register that made her knees weak. His eyes scanned her face, frantic, searching for any sign that his control had slipped.

"Nothing, Felix," Y/N whispered, her hands resting against his chest to keep some distance between them. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, and she hated how much his intense focus made her pulse race. "He was just asking about the dress."

"You look beautiful," Felix murmured suddenly, his tone shifting from angry to dangerously tender. His gaze dropped to her lips, and for a terrifying second, Y/N thought he was going to kiss her right there. He reached up, his thumb tracing the sharp line of her jawline, his touch so gentle it felt like heartbreak. "But you kept me waiting. I don't like waiting, Y/N. And I don't like seeing you talk to Seungmin."

Jealousy. It was tearing at him again. Y/N felt the slight tremor in his hand against her jaw. He was terrified of losing his absolute grip on her, of someone else breaking his perfect toy.

She remembered her realization in the library. He was addicted to her compliance. She couldn't fight him directly—Seungmin’s words had proven that Felix’s world was far too dangerous for her to make a clumsy move. She had to play the victim a little longer. She had to feed his ego until he grew careless.

Y/N forced her eyes to well up with tears, looking up at him with utter vulnerability. She let her voice tremble perfectly.

"I’m sorry, Felix," she choked out, letting her forehead rest against his velvet-clad chest. It was a devastating act of submission, and she felt him stiffen in surprise before his arms slowly wrapped around her waist, pulling her impossibly close. "I was scared. Everyone was looking at me. Seungmin... he made me feel like I don't belong here. I only felt safe when I saw you."

Above her, Felix let out a low, shuddering breath. Y/N couldn't see his face, but she felt the tight, almost desperate way his arms squeezed her. He was drinking in her dependency like wine.

"I told you," Felix whispered into her hair, his voice filled with a smug, toxic warmth. "You only have me. No one else matters. As long as you remember that, I will protect you."

He pulled back, his eyes dark with a satisfied, possessive glow. He believed he had won again. He believed she was entirely broken, completely reliant on his mercy.

But as Felix led her out of the alcove and into the grand ballroom by her hand, Y/N kept her eyes downcast, a cold, invisible mask settling over her features. Her heart was still aching from the sheer terror of his proximity, but her mind was calculating.

Broken Kings

Obsessive!Felix x Reader Warnings: obsessive behavior , deep obsession , emotional manipulation , unhealthy attachment

At Saint Jude’s Academy, the devils wear angel faces. Felix was supposed to be my downfall—instead, he decided I was his only religion. And a broken king never lets his prey escape.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Part 1

The Grand Library of Saint Jude’s Academy did not smell of old paper; it smelled of old money. Polished mahogany,heavy velvet drapes that swallowed the afternoon sun, and the low, rhythmic ticking of a grandfather clock that felt less like a timepiece and more like a countdown.

Y/N kept her eyes fixed on the textbook, her fingertips pressing so hard against the edge of the desk that the skin turned stark white. It was a futile attempt to anchor herself. In this place, Y/N was an anomaly—a scholarship student admitted strictly to fill a socio-economic quota, surrounded by heirs to shipping empires, tech conglomerates, and political dynasties.

And then, there was Lee Felix.

"You’re breathing too loudly, sweetheart."

The voice was a low, honeyed baritone that vibrated right through the wood of the table. It didn’t belong to the angelic face of the boy sitting across from her. Felix looked like something sculpted from porcelain—sharp cheekbones, a dusting of faint freckles across his nose, and blonde hair that caught the dim light like a halo. But his eyes were entirely different.They were dark, calculating, and entirely devoid of the warmth he so effortlessly faked in public.

Y/N didn’t look up. "If my existence inconveniences you, Felix, you’re free to sit at any of the other twenty empty tables."

A soft, melodic chuckle escaped his lips. To anyone passing by, it looked like a sweet, private moment between two close friends. But underneath the table, Felix’s leather-shod shoe lightly tapped against Y/N’s ankle. A subtle, physical reminder of his presence. A claim.

"But I like it here," Felix murmured, leaning forward. He rested his chin on the palm of his hand, his gaze tracking the slight tremble in Y/N’s fingers. "And I like helping you. You’d be failing Advanced Macroeconomics without me,remember? Your scholarship requires a perfect GPA. It would be a tragedy if you lost it."

Fear. It was a cold, sharp blade that Felix knew exactly how to twist. He had spent the last three months positioning himself as Y/N’s sole savior in this elite jungle. He was the one who offered notes when Y/N’s locker was mysteriously vandalized. He was the one who sat with her when the other students whispered. Y/N had felt a profound, heartbreaking gratitude toward him—until she realized, weeks later, that Felix was the one who had ordered the vandalism in the first place. He created the fire just so he could play the hero throwing the blanket.

"I’m doing just fine on my own," Y/N lied, her chest tightening. The thought of losing the scholarship, of being sent back to the suffocating financial ruin of her family home, made her stomach churn with genuine terror.

Felix’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "Are you? Then why is your heart racing? I can see the pulse in your throat from here."

Before Y/N could retreat, Felix stood up and walked around the table. He didn’t stop until he was standing directly behind Y/N’s chair. The scent of his expensive, woodsy cologne invaded Y/N’s senses, heavy and intoxicating.

Slowly, deliberately, Felix leaned down. His chest brushed against Y/N’s back, a sudden, suffocating wave of physical intimacy that made Y/N freeze entirely. His large, warm hands slid over Y/N’s shoulders, tracing her collarbone with terrifying gentleness. His breath was hot against the shell of Y/N’s ear.

"You’re so fragile, Y/N," he whispered, his deep voice sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. "You think you can survive these wolves without me? Hyunjin thinks you’re a joke. Seungmin is already looking into your family’s debt. If I drop my hand, they will tear you apart."

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the sudden prickle of tears. It was heartbreaking how much power he held, how easily he could make her feel entirely safe and utterly ruined all at once. For a split second, the sheer proximity of him—the solid warmth of his body—felt like a sanctuary. It was a sick, addictive trick of the mind. He isolated her until he was the only source of comfort left.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Y/N choked out, the question escaping before she could stop it.

Felix’s hands moved up, his fingers gently tangling into the hair at the base of Y/N’s neck, tilting her head back just enough so he could look down into her eyes. His expression softened into something almost tender, a look of profound,devastating affection that could easily be mistaken for love.

"Because you're the only thing in this school that's real," Felix murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over Y/N’s lower lip. The touch was agonizingly intimate, a spark of electricity in the cold room. "And I want to keep you all to myself."

The heavy oak doors of the library swung open, breaking the spell.

"Felix! There you are."

Hwang Hyunjin strolled into the room, the topmost buttons of his designer school uniform undone, a careless, arrogant smirk on his lips. Beside him was Seo Changbin, looking thoroughly bored.

Felix didn’t flinch. In a fraction of a second, his posture changed. The predatory stillness vanished, replaced by his usual bright, easygoing demeanor. He let go of Y/N smoothly, stepping back with a charming grin.

"Hey, guys," Felix said, his voice instantly shifting to a higher, more casual pitch. "Just helping Y/N with the study guide.She was struggling a bit."

Hyunjin scoffed, walking over and casting a condescending glance at Y/N’s notes. "Why do you waste your time, Lix?She doesn't belong here anyway. Come on, Chan wants us in the lounge. We’re discussing the gala next weekend."

Changbin, however, didn’t look at Felix. His eyes lingered on Y/N, noticing the slight redness in her eyes and the tight,defensive way she was holding her own arms. Changbin stepped forward, pulling a chocolate bar from his pocket and tossing it onto Y/N’s textbook.

"You look like you forgot to eat lunch again," Changbin said, his voice gruff but inherently lacking the malice the others possessed. "Don't study yourself to death."

"Thank you, Changbin," Y/N whispered, genuinely touched by the small gesture.

It was a mistake.

Beside them, Felix’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek. A dark, suffocating wave of jealousy flashed through his eyes, so brief and violent it made Y/N’s breath hitch. Felix hated when his toys looked at anyone else. He hated when anyone else tried to provide the comfort that he was supposed to dictate.

Felix immediately stepped between Changbin and Y/N, blocking the view. He slung an arm around Changbin’s shoulders,his grip deceptively tight. "Yeah, Changbin’s right. Y/N needs a break. Go on ahead, guys. I’ll catch up in a minute."

Hyunjin rolled his eyes and turned around, and Changbin followed after a brief, hesitant glance back at Y/N.

Once the doors clicked shut, the silence in the library returned, heavier this time. Dangerous.

Felix turned around slowly. The bright, friendly idol of Saint Jude’s was gone. His eyes fixed on the chocolate bar sitting on Y/N’s desk. Without a word, he picked it up, walked over to the trash bin near the door, and dropped it inside.

He walked back to the desk, leaning both hands on the surface, looming over Y/N. His eyes were wild, a terrifying mix of possessiveness and cold anger.

"You don't take things from him," Felix said, his voice dropping into that terrifyingly deep register again. "You don't look at him like that. Do you understand me, Y/N?"

Y/N looked from the trash bin back up to Felix. The fear was there, beating loudly in her chest, making her hands shake under the table. But beneath the fear, for the very first time, a strange, cold clarity washed over her.

She looked at Felix’s face—at the slight tension in his shoulders, the hyper-fixation in his gaze, the desperate need for absolute control.

He’s angry, Y/N thought, a quiet realization dawning in her mind. He’s genuinely affected. He isn't just playing a game... he cares about the outcome. He needs me to look at him.

For months, Y/N had been the victim, completely powerless, reacting exactly how Felix wanted her to. But looking at him now, consumed by a petty spark of jealousy, Y/N realized something crucial: the master architect had a flaw. He was addicted to his own control. And if he was addicted, he could be manipulated.

Y/N swallowed her terror, forcing her heart rate to steady. She didn't shrink away this time. Instead, she leaned slightly forward, meeting his dark gaze head-on.

"I understand, Felix," Y/N said softly, keeping her voice perfectly compliant, perfectly submissive. She even managed a small, fragile smile—the exact kind of helpless reaction Felix thrived on. "I only need you. I know that."

Felix stared at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to detect a trap. But Y/N’s expression was flawless. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders relaxed, a smug, satisfied smirk bleeding back onto his porcelain face. He believed he had won.He believed he had broken her just a little bit more.

"Good," Felix whispered, reaching out to pat Y/N’s cheek affectionately. "Smart classmate."

He turned on his heel and walked out of the library, completely unaware that the board had just shifted.