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His silver hair had been replaced by a deep, glossy black that made his sharp features look even more dramatic, almost vampiric.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. The pressure of being under a scholarship girl's thumb had slowly eroded his sanity over the semester. He couldn't sleep; he couldn't think. He was drowning in his own bruised pride.
"Is the bypass ready?" Jisung hissed, leaning over Seungmin’s shoulder. "I can't keep doing this. I can't keep watching her walk through the halls like she owns our names. We need to take the drive back."
The air in the third-floor seminar room smelled faintly of old floor wax and rain. It was the final period of the day, a specialized corporate law seminar reserved exclusively for the top tier of Saint Jude’s. The room was vast, designed like a small amphitheater with tiered mahogany desks looking down at a central lecture floor.
Outside, the sky had turned a heavy, bruised violet, throwing long, distorted shadows through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Y/N sat at her designated desk in the second row, her posture rigid, her notebook open to a blank page.
She didn't need to take notes. She could feel the subtle, high-frequency vibration of a trap being set around her.
Across the aisle, Kim Seungmin was typing with an unbearable, rhythmic cadence. Tap. Tap. Tap. It was a deliberate metronome, a countdown disguised as productivity. Beside him, Han Jisung wasn't even pretending to look at his tablet; his fingers were anxiously tearing the edge of a paper coffee cup into tiny, jagged shreds. But the most suffocating weight in the room wasn't the silence of her enemies.
It was the presence behind her. Felix sat directly in the row above her, so close that if she leaned back, her hair would brush his uniform jacket.
For ninety minutes, he hadn't moved. He hadn't taken a single note. He simply sat there, his dark, dilated eyes locked onto the back of her neck, his breathing slow and heavy. The air between them was thick with six months of unspent adrenaline, a volatile, hyper-focused adoration that felt like an electric current waiting for a conductor.
"The secondary compliance clause," the professor’s voice droned from the bottom of the room, completely oblivious to the silent cold war happening in the tiers. "Requires a dual-authorization protocol. If one party defaults, the asset parameters automatically invert…"
Suddenly, Y/N felt a distinct, sharp vibration in her blazer pocket. Her heart gave a single, hard thud. She reached inside, her fingers brushing the cool, metallic surface of her encryption token—the silver key that linked her to the vault downtown. The small LED indicator on the side of the device was flashing a violent, aggressive amber.
ALERT: Unauthorized Handshake Attempt via Localized Bluetooth Proxy.
Y/N’s eyes narrowed to freezing slits. She didn't look back at Seungmin, but her gaze instantly tracked the small, black signal booster plugged into the wall outlet right next to his desk. They were trying to clone the digital signature of her token while it was still in her pocket.
If the synchronization reached one hundred percent, Seungmin wouldn't need to steal the drive, he would have the digital ghost keys to unlock the vault remotely.
The progress bar on her token’s tiny interface flickered: 42%... 45%... 48%... She needed to cut the proximity link. Now. Without a word, Y/N stood up, her chair scraping loudly against the hardwood floor.
The sudden noise cut through the professor's lecture like a knife. Seungmin’s fingers froze on his keyboard. Jisung’s head snapped up, his bloodshot eyes widening in a flash of raw panic. "Excuse me," Y/N said, her voice dropping into that chilling, absolute register that always made the inner circle stiffen. "I need to excuse myself."
She didn't wait for the professor’s permission.
She gathered her bag and walked down the steps, her boots clicking sharply against the wood. As she passed Seungmin’s desk, she intentionally let her eyes slide over him—a slow, mocking look of utter contempt that told him exactly how badly he had just failed.
The moment the heavy oak doors of the seminar room swung shut behind her, the silence of the corridor swallowed her.
The hallway was empty, illuminated only by the dim, stormy light filtering through the high arched windows. Y/N walked rapidly toward the north stairwell, checking the token in her hand. The progress bar had frozen at fifty-one percent, the local signal lost.
But before she could even reach the door to the stairwell, a heavy, suffocating shadow materialized from the gloom ahead. Lee Know was leaning against the stone pillar, his uniform tie slightly loosened, his sharp, cat-like eyes gleaming with a wicked, erratic brilliance.
He was tossing a small, silver pocketknife into the air, catching it effortlessly by the hilt with every rotation. "Going somewhere in such a hurry, sweetheart?" Lee Know purred, his voice smooth, malicious, and entirely unpredictable. He stepped into her path, his body blocking the exit to the stairs.
"The lecture isn't over. And Seungmin hates it when people leave before the final calculation.“ Y/N stopped three feet away from him, her hand tightening around the silver token in her pocket. "Move, Minho." "Or what?" he chuckled, a dark, dangerous sound that echoed off the high ceilings.
He stepped closer, his gaze dropping to her blazer pocket. "You'll look at me with those pretty, frozen eyes? You'll tell Chan to audit my family's shipping lines? We’re tired of the threats, Y/N. The court wants its crown back."
Y/N’s mind raced. Lee Know was the distraction.
He was stalling her, keeping her within the forty-foot radius of the signal booster in the classroom so Seungmin could resume the clone sequence. She could hear the faint, muffled sound of the classroom door opening down the hall. Jisung and Seungmin were coming to reinforce the perimeter. She was outnumbered.
She was cornered. But then, the heavy iron door of the north stairwell behind Lee Know didn't just open—it crashed against the stone wall with a terrifying, echoing violence that shattered the silence of the corridor.
Lee Know’s smirk vanished instantly, his head snapping around just as a pale, blurred figure lunged out of the darkness. Felix didn't just step into the hallway, he exploded into it. Before Lee Know could even raise his hands, Felix’s fingers locked into the collar of Lee Know’s uniform shirt with a sickening, violent force.
With a guttural, animalistic snarl, Felix slammed Lee Know’s entire upper body backward into the stone pillar. The impact was deafening—a dull, heavy thud of bone against limestone that made the glass panels of the nearby display cases rattle.
"Get your hands off her," Felix hissed, his voice dropping into a register so deep, so distorted by raw, psychotic rage that it barely sounded human. Lee Know gasped, the air completely knocked out of his lungs as his heels left the floor, pinned against the pillar by the sheer, unhinged strength of Felix’s grip. His silver pocketknife clattered uselessly onto the linoleum.
He looked into Felix’s face, and for the first time in his life, Lee Know looked genuinely terrified. Felix’s blonde hair was wild, falling across his forehead in damp, chaotic strands. His pupils were completely gone, his dark eyes burning with a frantic, lethal madness.
The aristocratic prince was entirely dead; the monster that had been chained up for six months had just broken through its skin. His jaw was set so tightly that a thin trickle of blood was beginning to ooze from where he was biting his own inner cheek.
"Felix—" Lee Know choked out, his fingers desperately clawing at Felix’s wrists. "She’s using you—she’s erpressen us—" "I don't care!" Felix roared, his voice bouncing off the walls like thunder. He shook Lee Know like a ragdoll, slamming him against the stone a second time.
"She can burn the school down! She can burn my family to the ground! But if you stand in her way again, Minho... I will personally ensure you don't walk out of this building alive.“ Down the hall, the footsteps of Seungmin and Jisung abruptly stopped. They stood frozen at the corner of the corridor, watching the display of raw, terrifying violence with wide, paralyzed eyes.
They realized, with a sickening finality, that they hadn't just triggered a rebellion, they had reawakened the absolute executioner of Saint Jude’s.
"Felix," Y/N’s voice cut through the violence, quiet, sharp, and entirely controlled. "Drop him.“ Felix’s entire body stiffened at the sound of her voice. The homicidal rage vibrating through his muscles froze instantly, his fingers trembling against Lee Know’s collar.
Slowly, deliberately, he let go, allowing Lee Know to slump to the floor, coughing and gasping for air. Felix didn't look back at the other boys. He turned around slowly, his chest heaving, his breathing shallow, ragged, and heavy with that permanent, aching adoration.
He stumbled toward Y/N, his boots leaving faint scuff marks on the floor, until he stopped exactly two inches away from her. He didn't touch her. He kept his shaking hands at his sides, respecting her boundaries even while his entire soul was screaming for her closeness. He looked down at her face, his dark eyes wide, pleading, desperate for a crumb of her acknowledgment.
"Did I protect you right, sweetheart?" He whispered, his deep baritone cracking with raw emotion, his breath hot against her forehead.
"Tell me I did it right. Tell me what to do with the others. I’ll clear them all out for you." Y/N looked at him. She looked at the raw madness in his eyes, the absolute compliance of a king who had just brutalized his own brother for her safety.
She could feel the silver token in her pocket, the proxy attack had stopped, the clone sequence erased.
She had survived the first move of Seungmin's rebellion, but looking at the feral, starving weapon standing before her, she realized the real danger wasn't the revolt. It was the unbearable friction of the leash. "The basement archive, Felix," Y/N murmured, her voice an icy, magnificent contrast to his heat. "Take me there. Now.“
The descent into the basement archives felt like stepping into an forgotten, subterranean tomb. The air grew steadily colder with every step down the narrow concrete stairwell, turning thick with the smell of damp stone, ancient ledger paper, and the sharp, chemical tang of the industrial coolant hum coming from the server rows down the hall.
The dim, yellow halogen bulbs overhead flickered with a rhythmic, dying buzz, casting long, distorted shadows that stretched across the floor like reaching fingers. Y/N walked down the corridor with a slow, deliberate pace, her boots leaving faint, clean tracks in the light layer of dust.
Behind her, Felix followed like a ghost.
He didn't make a sound. His movements were fluid, completely silent, yet the sheer intensity of his presence was suffocating. She could hear his breathing—shallow, uneven, and utterly strained. He was keeping a precise distance of exactly two steps behind her right shoulder, a loyal shadow tethered to her will.
He had just brutally slammed one of his closest childhood friends against a limestone pillar without a single shred of remorse, and yet, in her presence, he looked as though he was walking on a floor made of spun glass.
Y/N’s mind, however, was working with the freezing clarity of a master tactician. He would do it, she thought, her eyes tracking the dark, damp corridor ahead as her fingers tightly clenched the silver encryption token in her blazer pocket.
He would actually kill for me. If I told him to throw Seungmin out of the third-story window right now, he wouldn't even ask why. He would just do it and then he would come back here, kneel in the dirt and look at me with those exact same wide, desperate eyes, waiting to see if I’m satisfied.
It was a terrifying realization, a profound and intoxicating power that sent a cold thrill straight down her spine. The kings of Saint Jude’s thought they were fighting a political war for the crown, but they didn't understand the weapon they were up against.
Felix wasn't fighting for a hierarchy anymore.
He was fighting for an empire of one.
But Y/N also knew the mathematics of a crisis. Seungmin’s proxy hack had been too precise, too coordinated. He had already recruited Han Jisung's raw paranoia and Lee Know’s chaotic thirst for amusement.
If the remaining heirs combined their resources, her physical hardware drive downtown wouldn't stay safe for long. She needed Felix re-activated. She needed the cold-blooded, terrifying architect of Saint Jude's to dismantle the rebellion from the inside out.
But a beast that had been starving for six months couldn't hunt on an empty stomach. If she kept the leash too tight, if she refused to feed his obsession, his desperation would eventually turn chaotic and chaos was the one variable she could not control.
She needed to give him a taste of the prize. She needed to anchor his madness to a tangible, irresistible promise.
Y/N stopped abruptly in the center of the archive room. The space was vast, filled with towering rows of iron shelves containing decades of the school’s physical records. The only light came from a single, bare bulb hanging from a frayed cord in the center of the ceiling, casting a harsh, dramatic cone of white light onto the heavy oak desk below. Felix stopped instantly behind her, his entire body going rigid as his dark eyes locked onto the back of her head.
Slowly, deliberately, Y/N turned around to face him.
She didn't sit down. She leaned her lower back against the edge of the heavy oak desk, crossing her arms over her chest, her posture perfectly composed, her expression a mask of beautiful, untouchable ice. "Felix," she murmured, her voice cutting through the heavy silence of the basement like a scalpel. "I’m here, Y/N," he whispered immediately.
He stepped forward into the cone of light, his chest heaving under his white uniform shirt.
His blonde hair was still damp and chaotic, a few strands clinging to his forehead, and a faint, dark smear of blood was visible at the corner of his lower lip where he had bitten himself during the violence upstairs. His hands were shaking at his sides, his fingers twitching with an almost painful restraint.
"Seungmin is building a network," Y/N said, her clear eyes tracking the rapid rise and fall of his chest. "He tried to clone my hardware token during the seminar. He has Jisung, and he has Minho. They want to find the physical drive, Felix. They want to take their names back.“
A dark, lethal shadow passed over Felix’s features. His jaw clenched so hard the muscles in his neck strained against his collar.
"I’ll break them, sweetheart. I’ll go back up there right now. I’ll make Seungmin delete every script he’s ever written. I’ll ensure Jisung never touches a computer terminal again. Just tell me how far you want me to go.“
"No," Y/N interrupted coldly, her voice dropping an octave, making him freeze.
"Brute force won't stop a mathematician, Felix. If you just attack them, Chan will step in to preserve what's left of the circle, and I will lose my leverage. I don't want them broken by a fist. I want them dismantled from the inside. I want you to play the game they think they're winning, and I want you to feed them the wrong variables until they destroy themselves.“
Felix looked at her, his breath catching in his throat. His brilliant, twisted mind immediately grasped the strategy, but his eyes were wide with a deeper, more frantic ache. He didn't care about the strategy. He only cared about the cost.
"That will take time," Felix whispered, his deep baritone cracking slightly as he took a step closer. The scent of his woodsy cologne, heavy and sharp with adrenaline, filled the small space between them.
"It means I have to spend hours in the council room with them. It means I have to pretend I care about their hierarchy. It means... I have to look away from you.“ He dropped to his knees right there on the cold concrete floor, his hands coming up to hover just a millimeter away from the fabric of her skirt, trembling violently, still terrified of crossing her boundaries without permission.
"It’s an execution, Y/N," he fleht, his voice dropping into a guttural, desperate whimper. "Six months. One hundred and eighty-two days of watching you walk down the halls, smelling your scent, hearing your voice, and I haven't been allowed to touch a single hair on your head. My mind is rotting. If I have to walk away from you to play this game for you... I need something to keep me alive. Please. Give me a reason to survive the distance.“
Y/N looked down at him. She watched a tear of pure, agonizing overstimulation slide down his porcelain cheek, mixing with the faint blood at the corner of his lips.
He was completely undone, a broken king begging for a scrap of mercy from a scholarship student. She let the silence stretch. Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. She watched him writhe internally under the weight of her quiet scrutiny, his breathing growing louder, more frantic, his eyes wide and pleading like a starving animal looking at an altar.
"Let's make a deal, Felix," Y/N said softly. His head snapped up, his pupils dilating so completely that his eyes looked like two pools of black ink.
"Anything. Name it. Take my soul, take my name, take everything my family owns. Just tell me." "You will play Seungmin’s game," she commanded, her voice dropping into a velvet, hypnotic purr. "You will act as their double agent. You will lead them exactly where I want them to go, and you will deliver Seungmin’s entire infrastructure to this desk within three weeks."
She paused, leaning down just an inch, her face entering his field of vision, her frozen breath fanning across his burning skin.
"And for every piece of data you destroy, for every step you take to secure my throne... you will be rewarded. When this is over, Felix, I will let you back into the cage. I will let you touch me. I will let you belong to me completely. No boundaries. No distance.“ A low, shuddering gasp left Felix’s lips. His chest heaved so violently it hit the edge of the desk.
The sheer, dizzying magnitude of her promise, the absolute validation of his darkest, most obsessive desires, hit his nervous system like a physical shockwave. He looked as though he might faint from the sheer ecstasy of the thought.
"A proof," he choked out, his hands gripping the wood of the desk on either side of her thighs, his knuckles turning entirely white. He looked up at her lips with a frantic, unhinged hunger that was almost terrifying. "Please, Y/N. A token of the deal. Just a spark to keep the fire burning. Let me taste what I’m fighting for. Just once. After six months... please.“
Y/N studied his beautiful, ruined face. She knew the trap was set. The contract was written in his blood.
"A token," she murmured. Slowly, deliberately, Y/N reached out. Her fingers were cool against his burning skin as she lightly cupped his jaw, her thumb resting right against the faint smear of blood on his lip. Felix’s eyes closed instantly at the touch, a ragged, broken sob escaping his throat as his entire body leaned into her palm, trembling like a leaf in a storm.
"Open your eyes, Felix," she whispered. He obeyed instantly, his dark, frantic gaze locking onto hers.
"You may kiss me," Y/N permitted, her voice a chilling, magnificent contrast to his heat. "But remember who allows it. You take only what I give you.“ Felix didn't just move, he collapsed upward.
For the first time in six months, his lips crashed against hers. The impact was desperate, unhinged, and filled with a profound, terrifying intensity that made the air leave Y/N’s lungs.
It wasn't a gentle kiss, it was the hunger of a drowning man breaking the surface of the water.
His mouth was hot, tasting faintly of iron and the sharp, metallic tang of his own blood, pressing into hers with a frantic, breathless reverence. He didn't dare wrap his arms around her waist, he still didn't have permission for that, so his long fingers clutched the edges of the oak desk with a white-knuckled force that caused the ancient wood to groan.
He was pouring every ounce of his six-month agony, every drop of his obsessive, dark romance into the friction of their lips. He was groaning into her mouth, a low, guttural sound of pure, intoxicated submission, entirely ruined, entirely consumed, and utterly reborn under the freezing touch of his keeper.
The hunt had begun.
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