#be aware of mixed company

[aliceincrazytown]

am I crazy for saying I can feel the estrogen starting to kick in? Like you wouldn't tell by looking at me but *swear* I feel my hips getting a little wider and my butt a little rounder and my chest filling out a little, not to mention the mindset change of like.... I had to work to "see" myself as a woman internally before, and now it's just like... effortless. it's just a fact of who I am now. attitude changed on a dime. shit is wild.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Do you ever read a post where someone is explaining a pokitical thing and from the way they're saying you know with absolute certainty 1) they got their info from a tumblr post and have never actually followed up on how feasible that information actually is to act upon (they may not even have checked if it was CORRECT, but when they do they have clearly not looked into how easy or hard it may be to follow those instructions with a positive outcome), and 2) you know WHICH tumblr post they're quoting because it is basically a copy/paste of it, and 3) it was YOUR goddamn post and the thing they are saying is entirely counter to the point you were making when you said it to the point that you genuinely wonder if they just like. Memory-holed the entire context once they saw that one itty bitty point.

It's like the motherfuckiny dating apps all over again. I do not want people to love my words if they are not actually willing to do the work of understanding them! Didn't your kindergarten ever make you play Telephone to teach you how heresay falls out????

[madetolooklikeus]

got really into the weird guy I made up last night on clementine-kesh's branchedsona post, so I put them in the f@tt-sona template @aglennco made last year

[cannibalisticskittles]

i'm imagining a scenario where amity's dad got swept up by the nautiloid instead of her and. god. what a misadventure.

i can't decide if he and gale would be fast friends, soulmates, or mortal enemies. they have a lot of similarities, insofar as being wizards who LOVE magic and magical research and various special interests, and they both can be reckless in pursuit of this, and this could work Very Well or their differences could turn their similarities into contempt

plus symon is more... well... he's only partly a wizard. he's also a warlock, because he was bored to tears by the idea of continuing to study things that didn't interest him, so he made a deal with an archdevil for magical power so he could fake it and pretend like he was doing great at wizard stuff instead, and just focus on his experiments. so he's not as dedicated to the True Art, he just wants to be left alone with his lil projects.

still, i think in general, he and gale would get along. they could talk for hours about various magical subjects, the properties of the alchemical compounds he's currently collecting, the latest magical theorems they've read about. (i think they're close in age, too; i imagine gale is mid-30s at the youngest, but more likely, late 30s, early 40s. symon was a fairly young dad; he was 19 or 20 when amity was born, so he's ~46, 47 now)

he Would Not question shadowheart At All. oh, some mysterious business in baldur's gate? that's nice! he won't pry, that would be rude. a lady deserves to have her secrets :)

he would have endless questions for lae'zel, both about gith in general and about the astral plane. what a sight! what an honor to be born amidst the tears! he would not be put off by her whatsoever. every morning he would just have new questions for her.

he would try to fucking study astarion, that's for sure. he'd let astarion bite him, if asked. but then he'd want to run tests. is the taste or quality of blood impacted by diet? by location bitten? hold on, let him get his notebook and jot down the time of day and the date and contents of his last meal, for comparison; you'll have to be detailed when describing the taste. and please hold still; he'd like to sketch those fangs, if you wouldn't mind. it would be highly off-putting for astarion.

since symon is on the council of four, he's definitely familiar with wyll's dad, tho symon probably wasn't present enough in elbow-rubbing a decade ago to have ever met wyll. he also isn't, uh, very focused on other people most of the time, so he wouldn't be able to tell wyll much about what his dad is up to. he could tell him some, though! wyll reminds symon of amity quite a bit; the youthful enthusiasm, the drive for heroics. what a nice boy :) symon would also, like amity, devote quite a bit of time to wyll's predicament with his pact and with mizora, and try to find loopholes or ways out.

karlach also reminds symon of amity; he's not, uh, dadly enough to take anyone else under his wing, really; but he's very quickly fond of her because of this. he thinks she and amity would be friends, and tells her so. once again, he would want to study her and her heart; he'll also start pulling alchemical ingredients from his pockets and start musing about what can be done to modulate temperature and make her ticker run a bit better here. potentially helpful! very meddlesome tho.

i also. think he might consume a tadpole or two. for science. for research.

his imp familiar, ekil, would be distraught. tugging at his elbow, trying to get him to put down the tadpole jar, protesting loudly (if squeakily). but symon would not be deterred. "ekil my old friend, have no fear, this is all in pursuit of knowledge! :)" and then he shotguns that tadpole down.

symon being abducted also means that at some point, amity will find them. a wild-eyed tiefling on a white horse bursts into their campsite hollering "WHERE IS MY DAD" in the fucking shadowlands

[monstersholygrail]

The day you got a strange scholarship for Free Use City College in the mail, you honestly didn’t know what to think. You didn’t remember applying to it, you hadn’t even heard of it. The only thought that stuck out to you was giggling over the fact that the school acronym basically spelled out Fuck.

And looking into it, the school was actually real and legit. Credited everywhere in the country. You were a bit more on the cautious side so you called the school just to make sure it was actually them and not some scam. They confirmed it for you in that same call and you’d never seen a school so productive.

It was a full ride, there was no way you could pass up an offer like that. Especially not when it came with free housing too— so long as you lived on campus and very very close to the teacher’s quarters on campus. It sounded fair to you and before you knew it you were leaving your old school and saying hello to this new one.

Everything seemed perfectly normal at first. When you were moving your things in, sure the guys at the moving company and a lot of the students gave you looks. You were new, why wouldn’t they? Yet they threw a welcome party for you on the first night you arrived so you knew they liked you. And when you just so happened to stumble into bed with a hot Orc who lives just down the hall you didn’t think anything of it. Just your normal college experience.

But then… things started to get a bit strange. Your teachers began taking a specific interest in you. All of them asking about your scholarship and which one exactly it was again. You told them honestly, not understanding the gleam that would take over each and every single one of their expressions.

The first time one of your teachers came onto you was only a few weeks after you first started there. Your Fox Hybrid History Professor had asked you to stay after class, telling you he needed you to help him with his big load. You thought you had misheard him, expecting to be spending the afternoon grading papers. But when he plops you down on his desk, sliding between your thick thighs, you’re almost not fast enough to stop the sly Professor.

“Woah, what are you doing?” You ask him in alarm, despite the way your heart is nearly racing out of your chest. Your entire body very aware of the way his strong hands caress your curves.

“Just cashing in on some of the benefits we teachers get from cute students with scholarships like yourself,” he murmurs in your ear, voice as smooth as silk. Making you shiver from a mixture of anticipation and confusion.

You still don’t understand what he’s talking about at first. You read over the terms and conditions of your scholarship through and through.

But your Fox Hybrid History Professor quickly proves you wrong. Bending you over the desk with his thick cock slamming inside you, fucking into you like a beast. As if he’s been waiting for this since the day you arrived. His hand tightly wrapping around the nape of your neck as he forces you to read out of the guidelines of your scholarship.

Stopping his thrusts whenever you pause in your reading. Even if it’s just to moan or whimper. Only starting up again when you continue reading. His cock swirling around your walls and mixing up your insides. It stuffs you completely, making you feel so full that you swear he’s rearranging your guts.

“There,” he grunts out as soon as you get to the point where scholarship students must aid their teachers in any school matters that could help assist with the class or the teachers needs. “That’s, nngh, f-fucking it, sweetheart. So take it. Help a teacher out o-ah-ok?”

You’re not sure if this is what the conditions meant exactly when they added this bit in. But fuck, who were you to complain when your Professor was rutting into you so good, his girth stretching your walls perfectly to his shape. In fact, you wouldn’t complain at all as he fucks you into one orgasm after the next till he’s shooting nothing but blanks inside of you. Afterwards even granting you an extension on an essay due tomorrow.

As you walk back to your dorm on shaky legs, you think that your transfer to FUCC was absolutely, without a doubt, the right move. Best scholarship ever.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　5 TIMES CHRIS AND Y/N WERE CAUGHT KISSING

chris sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where a fan creates a 5-minute video with all the times that Chris and Y/N were caught kissing.

WARNING: Making-out.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Chris and Y/N sat side by side on the plush couch in the living room. They were half-watching a movie that had been playing for the past hour, but neither of them was truly invested. Chris's arm was draped lazily around Y/N's shoulders, his thumb drawing idle circles on her upper arm. It was one of those rare, peaceful evenings where they could just relax and enjoy each other's company, without the usual hustle and bustle of filming or the pressure of content creation hanging over Chris head.

Y/N was scrolling through her TikTok, a small smile playing on her lips as she came across fan edits and posts dedicated to Chris and his brothers. Her fingers stopped suddenly, her eyes widening as she stopped on a video with the caption: "Top 5 Times Chris and Y/N Were Caught Kissing in the Background." She let out a small laugh, nudging Chris's shoulder to get his attention.

"Baby, look at this." She muttered, her voice filled with a mix of amusement and shyness. She turned the phone screen towards him, and his brows shot up in surprise as he read the title.

"Are you serious?" He asked, a grin spreading across his face as he leaned closer to get a better view. "I didn't even know we were caught that many times."

Y/N pressed play, and the screen lit up with the fan edit.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

1. Baking Blind, Deaf and Mute. (Two Times)

The first clip was from a Baking Blind, Deaf, and Mute challenge, recorded when the triplets had visited their parents in Boston for their birthday.

The video opened with Nick standing in the foreground with Matt by his side, leaning casually on the marble table, his hands gesturing animatedly as he explained how that video would be with the participation of Y/N. His voice was filled with that signature mix of enthusiasm and sarcasm as usual.

As Nick continued to lay out the idea, the camera caught slightly Chris and Y/N in the background, standing by the fridge. Chris was holding a spatula in the air like a sword while staring at Y/N, trying to look serious but failing miserably as a playful grin tugged at his lips.

Next to him, Y/N was meticulously reading the ingredients list, ignoring his playful manner successfully, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to memorize the steps, fully aware that she wouldn’t be able to see anything in a few minutes.

The atmosphere was light and filled with anticipation, the kind that comes with knowing things were about to descend into playful chaos. Matt and Nick were already debating loudly over what constituted a valid ingredient while picking the necessary ones from the cabinets, their voices a blend of mock seriousness and barely-contained laughter.

But then, probably with the hope of being hidden behind his brothers' back, Chris leaned closer to Y/N, his shoulder brushing against hers. The gesture was subtle, almost as if he were seeking her out in the midst of the noise, a quiet connection just for them. Y/N looked up from the list, her eyes meeting his, and a soft laugh escaped her, the sound so gentle that the camera barely picked it up.

Listening to his favorite sound, Chris, with his eyes sparkling with mischief, turned fully toward Y/N. He leaned in, whispering something in her ear that drew another quiet laugh from her - just like his goal -, her smile wide and genuine, the kind that made her eyes crinkle at the corners.

And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Chris dipped his head and pressed a quick, tender kiss to her lips. It was brief, a mere brush of lips, but the affection behind it was palpable. Y/N’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and she ducked her head, pretending to be engrossed in the ingredients list once more, though the small, secretive smile playing at her lips betrayed her.

Meanwhile, Matt started trying to talk to the camera, his voice raised to make sure the viewers could hear him over Nick's teasing.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

2. DTI

The second clip was from a particularly memorable livestream that Matt and Chris had done from Matt’s room. They had recently started playing a game called Dress to Impress, and after recording a small video for their YouTube channel where they played the game for the first time, it quickly became their newest obsession.

Y/N had been hanging out in the room during the stream, perched comfortably on Nick's chair off-camera. Although she wasn’t actively participating in the game, her presence was felt in subtle ways; every now and then, a hand would appear on the edge of the screen, holding out a bottle of water, an energy drink or a bowl of snacks for the boys. Each time, Chris would glance away from the screen just long enough to offer her a grateful smile or a quick thank you before returning to the chaos on Matt's monitor.

On this particular moment, the livestream had taken an amusing turn. Matt was deeply engrossed in a competition against another player who had, to his disbelief, apparently copied his entire outfit design. His face was a mix of shock and indignation, his voice rising with every word as he expressed his frustration.

Chris couldn’t help but laugh loudly. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he listened to his brother’s angry words, his eyes focused on the screen.

It was in this moment that Y/N leaned forward, her face suddenly appearing in the corner of the camera. She moved quietly, almost as if she was sneaking up on Chris, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She leaned in close to him, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered softly - something about 'knowing that Matt would win either way, since he - Chris - was the creative mind who helped creating the outfit'.

Chris’s reaction was immediate. The playful grin he had been wearing just moments before softened into something warmer, more affectionate. He turned his head slightly, meeting Y/N’s gaze with a look that was full of amusement. Without a second thought, he leaned in, catching her lips in a quick, sweet kiss. The kiss was fleeting, lasting only a second before Y/N pulled back, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush as she disappeared back into the background.

The moment was so brief that it could have easily gone unnoticed, especially with Matt’s voice still rising as he ranted about the blatant theft of his outfit. But their fans were nothing if not observant. The chat lit up almost instantly, viewers flooding the comments with a mixture of excitement and teasing.

Despite his attempts to play it cool, Chris couldn’t help the faint blush that crept up his cheeks. The tips of his ears turned pink as he tried to brush off the attention, focusing back on the game with a slightly embarrassed laugh.

"Alright, alright, focus on Matt, not me." He said, trying to redirect the conversation, though his smile never wavered.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

3. Fortnite Late Night

The third clip captured a moment during one of Matt and Chris's late-night gaming streams, "Fortnite Late Night." Each brother was in his own bedroom, Chris’s camera angled perfectly to frame his upper body, revealing a glimpse of his bed in the background, the soft light from his monitor casting a cool, blue glow over the room.

Meanwhile, Y/N had been upstairs, finishing up in the kitchen. The quiet house amplified the sound of her soft footsteps as she went to the stairs, heading towards the room she shared with Chris.

When Y/N reached the end of the steps and stepped into their bedroom, she found Chris completely engrossed in the game. His posture was tense, shoulders slightly hunched forward, eyes fixed on the screen with an intense concentration. The dim lighting highlighted his features - his lips were slightly parted, pink and plump, forming a small, unintentional pout, and his dark brown eyebrows were knitted together in focus.

He didn’t notice her at first, his mind fully absorbed in the game, but Y/N couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he looked in his concentrated state.

She was ready to crawl into bed, exhausted from the day, but there was one thing she had to do before she could even think about sleep. It was a nightly ritual at this point. No matter how tired she was, Y/N couldn’t fall asleep without saying goodnight to Chris.

Moving with sleepy steps, she walked over to where he sat. Chris didn’t need to look up to know she was there; he could sense her presence. As she leaned over the back of his chair, he could feel the soft brush of her hair against his neck, a comforting sensation that made him momentarily forget about the game.

"Goodnight, honey." Y/N whispered softly, her voice low and gentle, meant only for his ears. But her words, though quiet, were picked up by his sensitive microphone, echoing faintly through the livestream, reaching the ears of the hundreds of fans watching.

Without hesitation, and without any regard for the live audience, Chris tilted his head back, silently asking for his goodnight kiss. It was an instinctual, almost automatic gesture. Y/N, smiling at his adorable demand, obliged him, leaning down to press her lips against his in a tender, familiar kiss.

The angle was a bit awkward, the kiss upside down, but it didn’t matter, it was soft and unhurried.

On the other end of the game, Matt was fully aware of what had just happened. The sudden silence from Chris’s side was enough of a giveaway, and when he glanced at the small preview screen showing Chris’s camera, he saw it all. Matt smirked but kept his eyes on the game, unfazed by the interruption - he had grown used to these moments.

"Dude." Matt finally spoke up after Y/N’s figure disappeared behind Chris’s back, his tone dripping with teasing exasperation. "Can’t you keep your PDA for when we’re not live?"

Chris didn’t even flinch. With a lazy grin spreading across his face, he shrugged, entirely unapologetic.

"Sorry, couldn’t help it." He replied, his voice light and carefree. The grin on his face said it all - he wasn’t sorry at all.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

4. hello world

It had been a late-night gaming session - again -, one of those times when Chris and Matt were fully immersed in it, talking to fans while navigating through Dress to Impress. The energy in Chris’s room was electric, with his monitors casting a blue glow that bathed everything in a dim light. His headset was on, and he was deeply focused, his eyes glued to the screen.

But the concentration was constantly broken by Chris’s rumbling stomach and the string of complaints that followed.

"Ugh, I’m so hungry." He groaned into the mic, making a face. "Seriously, I could eat a whole pizza right now."

Matt laughed on the other end of the line, his voice crackling through the headphones.

"Dude, we just had dinner like three hours ago."

"Yeah, and?" Chris shot back, pausing for a second to take a sip of his energy drink. "That was hours ago. I’m starving. Hey chat, send food!" He laughed at his own joke, glancing over at the live comments.

Little did Chris know, Y/N was watching the livestream from the living room. She’d been lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone, when she heard his complaints. A smile spread across her face as an idea formed in her mind. She knew Chris’s favorite takeout place just down the street and decided to surprise him.

She slipped on a pair of sneakers, grabbed her keys, and headed out. The whole trip took barely fifteen minutes. When she returned, the aroma of Chris’s favorite meal wafted through the bag she was carrying, and she made her way quietly up the stairs to their room.

Chris was still completely absorbed in his game, his back to the door. He didn’t notice when she slipped in, the door clicking softly behind her. Y/N could hear him talking to his brother, still complaining about his hunger, completely oblivious to her presence.

She smiled to herself, holding back a giggle as she crept closer. She set the bag down on his desk next to his keyboard, the movement catching his attention. Chris looked up, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw Y/N standing there, holding out the takeout bag with a grin.

"Hey." She whispered, leaning in close so the mic wouldn’t pick up her voice - unsuccessfully. "I heard you were hungry."

Chris’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. He pulled off his headset, letting it hang around his neck, and stretched out his arms to catch the bag from her.

"Oh my God, you’re the best." He said, his voice low and filled with genuine affection. He opened the bag, inhaling deeply, and let out a content sigh. "You got my favorite!"

Y/N nodded, her smile growing wider.

"I know you too well."

Without another word, Chris set the bag down and reached out, pulling Y/N into his arms, forcing her to bent her upper body. He didn’t care that the stream was still going or that his brother and the fans were waiting. In that moment, all he could think about was how thoughtful and sweet she was. He tilted his head up, capturing her lips in a deep, grateful kiss.

Y/N kissed him back, her hands resting on his thighs, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his sweatpants.

It wasn’t until they broke apart that Chris remembered they were still live. He glanced over at his screen, the chat scrolling so fast it was a blur, and he could see the comments exploding.

Chris laughed, picking up his headset and sliding it back on.

"Sorry, guys." He said into the mic, a huge grin on his face. "Got a little distracted there. Y/N just brought me food, so, uh, I’m gonna eat while we keep playing."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

5. We became dad's for 24 hours!!! (to eggs)

The last clip was one of a quiet, intimate moment captured during one of the boys' more absurd challenges: taking care of an egg as if it were their own child for 24 hours.

It was the middle of the early morning, the clock barely ticking past 3 AM, when the sound of three simultaneous alarms pierced the stillness of the house. The sharp, grating beeps echoed through the rooms, signaling that it was time for them to wake up and "feed" their eggs.

The absurdity of the situation was only amplified by the ungodly hour, the boys' groggy voices muttering incoherently as they stumbled around, trying to remember where they had left their fragile "children".

Y/N, who had been curled up in bed, still wrapped in the warmth of sleep, found herself jolted awake by the noise. Her eyelids were heavy, barely lifting as she pushed herself up from the bed.

Dressed in one of Chris's oversized T-shirt that hung loosely over her frame and a pair of soft pajama shorts, she looked the very picture of someone who had been dragged from sleep far too early. Her hair was tousled, a wild halo around her face, and her eyes were half-closed as she shuffled out of the room.

She used the commotion as an excuse to get a drink of water, her feet moving on autopilot as she padded quietly into the kitchen. The house was dimly lit, with only the soft glow of the moon filtering through the big window and the faint blue light of the fridge as she pulled it open.

The boys’ sleepy voices floated to her from the living room, muffled but distinct, each of them trying to outdo the other in their groggy banter about their "kids".

Chris was sprawled out on the couch in the living room, his body sinking into the cushions, looking cozy yet disheveled. His legs were stretched out, feet propped up on the coffee table, and his head was tilted back, his eyes blinking slowly as he tried to stay awake. He was mumbling something about the challenge, his words barely coherent.

Y/N, still in her sleepy haze, wandered toward them, her footsteps soft against the hardwood floor. The coolness of the water bottle in her hand provided a small comfort as she made her way toward Chris, passing by Matt’s legs, narrowly avoiding his outstretched foot, and maneuvered around the coffee table until she stood in front of her boyfriend.

Chris’s gaze followed her movements, his tired eyes lighting up slightly as he watched her approach. His arms opened wide, almost instinctively, inviting her into his embrace without needing to say a word. There was a small, sleepy smile on his lips, one that matched the one Y/N gave him as she stepped closer. The moment was quiet, almost dreamlike, the world around them fading into the background as she climbed over his legs and nestled into his lap.

She settled herself against him, her legs folded up on the couch as her body molded against his. The right side of her body pressed against his chest, and she could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath her. Her head found its place on his shoulder, her nose nuzzling gently against the exposed skin of his neck.

Chris’s arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, causing Y/N to smile against his neck, feeling the warmth of his breath on her skin, and she tilted her head back just enough to look up at him.

Almost automatically, Chris leaned down again, their lips meeting in a soft, lazy kiss. It was gentle, a mere brush of lips, but it was enough to make Y/N’s heart flutter.

When they pulled back, Y/N let out a small sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she nestled back into the curve of his neck. Chris held her close, his hand resting on her back, his thumb stroking gently up and down in a soothing rhythm, letting his brothers finish what they wanted to say before going to bed again.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The video ended, and Y/N hit pause before it replayed again by itself, looking up at Chris, who was leaning back with a satisfied smile.

"Wow." She started, dragging out the word. "Look at you, Mister Romantic."

Chris shrugged, unabashed.

"What can I say? When you've got a girlfriend as amazing as you, you just... can't help yourself."

Y/N, sitting up and adjusting her position, rolled her eyes but smiled, her cheeks tinged pink.

"You’re such a dork." She muttered, but there was affection in her voice.

"And you love it." Chris shot back, leaning down, pressing a kiss to her temple, and Y/N couldn't help but smile, leaning into his touch.

"I really do."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

extra - comments:

"this compilation was the perfect one to prove what the boys said about chris being the only one who would make-out with his girlfriend in front of everyone 😭"

"stop, the way chris looks at Y/N in every clip???? ugh, I NEED this 😩"

"forget the baking, chris and Y/N's little kiss right there? too cute omg"

"okay but that livestream moment when Y/N brings chris food 😭 she's so thoughtful and caring ;(("

"chris and Y/N in the background just being all lovey-dovey while matt and nick are doing their thing is EVERYTHING!!! they’re so in love it hurts 🥺"

"honestly, I’m all here for how they’re always caught kissing like they forget the cameras are on 😞"

"chris couldn't even focus on the game anymore after Y/N kissed him LMAOOO, he's down bad, guys"

"STOP IT RIGHT NOW!! Y/N laying on chris lap while they do their thing with their eggs omg 🤧🤧 they're so precious"

[rafecameronssl4t]

For high maintenance reader! Can you write a prompt where they’re all talking to rafes friends at the country club or some party and they make some plans with rafe but reader gives him her signature look like raised eyebrow look and rafe just folds and is like ummm yeh I mean I can’t do that night or quietly asks reader if he can go just pussy whipped rafe

Whipped || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

MASTERLIST

Rafe, always the center of attention, animatedly discussed plans for a guys’ hangout on Friday night out on the porch. “C’mon, Rafe, you have to come! It’ll be fun,” one of his friends insisted, grinning broadly as Rafe leaned against the railing. Inside, on one of the country club’s sofas nearest the door to the porch, you could practically hear every word.

Friday nights were usually spent at either your place or Rafe’s, watching movies or simply enjoying each other’s company—a cherished ritual. Catching Sarah’s eye, you exchanged a knowing glance, a pang of annoyance hitting you at the thought of those plans changing.

Rafe, sensing your gaze, hesitated before speaking up. “Ummm, yeah, I mean… I can’t do that night,” he stammered, his confident demeanor crumbling momentarily. You raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a look he knew all too well.

You watch him intently as he continues talking with his friends, knowing he is fully aware of your gaze. Every now and then, his eyes flicker over to you, a subtle acknowledgment that doesn’t go unnoticed. “Why not, man?” one of them questions in surprise, their voices mingling with the background hum of the country club.

Rafe shifted uncomfortably, meeting your eyes briefly before turning back to his friends. “I, uh, have other plans—with Y/n,” he finally said, a satisfied smile spreading across your face as you returned to your conversation, triumph settling in your chest.

A few minutes later, while carefully applying another coat of lip gloss, you feel the couch dip beside you. The familiar scent of Rafe’s cologne reaches your nose, confirming his presence before you even look. He sidles up close, arm resting behind you as his his voice dropping to a whisper. “Can I go?” he asks, his usual bravado completely absent, his thumb rubbing absent minded circles in your shoulder.

You take a moment to look at him, your eyes scanning his face. His expression is earnest, almost pleading. With a soft sigh, you lightly roll your eyes and return to your lip gloss. “Fine. But don’t make a habit of it,” you mumble, crossing your legs at the knees in a gesture of mild annoyance.

Rafe’s face lights up with relief, a grateful smile spreading across his lips. “Thanks,” he mutters, glancing back out to the porch where his friends are waiting. He stands up, ready to leave, but then hesitates. Leaning down, he aims to kiss your lips, but you stop him with a tap of your heeled foot against his inner leg.

“Baby, I just put on a new coat,” you sigh, leaning away and turning your head slightly, still a bit annoyed. Rafe lets out a sigh of his own, his eyes filled with a mix of apology and affection. “My bad,” he says quickly. He then gently kisses your cheek, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary, before straightening up and heading out to join his friends. As you watch him go, a small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, your annoyance melting away.

[mayasaurusss]

Hello, I really liked the way you write about Jinx, can you please write about how femme! the reader and Isha fall into a trap and as a result, while protecting Isha, the reader is injured and Jinx goes into her killer mode (you don’t have to write if you don’t want to) you can just write aftercare if you want

A helping hand

A/N: and here it's finally done! I could have made this oneshot quicker and shorter but then I got chaught up in writing it... and I woke up eight days later with this in my drafts😂. I don't ususally like how I handle stories, but I think that this one turned out pretty good. As mentioned in another post, it's very heavily plot driven and it's a wopping eleven pages worth of writing. My grammar, as always, might not be the top gamma. I hope you guys will enjoy it! Also this was mixed with something someone suggested on ao3!

Contains: female reader, violence, murder, mentions of saliva and vomiting, hurt and comfort, very heavily plot driven, happy ending with a happy family. Lenght: 6k/ 11 pages.

The limited air inside the vent makes you choke on your breath, chemicals and smoke filling your lungs and hollowing your brain. A loud sound echoes inside the metal hull, alerting every one of your senses. "Isha! Be careful!" you whisper-yell at the kid, who's crouching in front of you, placing her hat back on.

She just huffs in response, rolling her eyes before continuing her tour inside Zaun's vents. Isha has not been too fond of you since you entered her life; one reason could be that she thought she had to compete with you for Jinx's attention. The other reason, maybe, is that you were from topside. Piltover, The City of Progress. The city who exploited and hurt the poor citizens of the Undercity. Avid hands commanding from atop marble skyscrapers, grinning smiles sucking away the air of the lanes.

It's no wonder you're not Isha's favorite; Sevika too seemed to have a disdain for you, either because of your privileged position or for the way Jinx was distracted and dreamy when you were near.

To ingratiate yourself into Isha's favours and to make it at least somewhat pleasant for both of you to be near each other, you agreed to follow her in a walk through the lanes.

Jinx had invited you into her own private lair, after much convincing on her part. One day, she just swept you up and brought you down with her, making you walk through fissures, alleys and neon lit streets.

"You should have a tour of The Lanes, y'know, to learn how life's like down here" a flicker of a spark reflecting in her goggles as she made some of her obscure machine-thingies. "So give me one" you said, prompting Jinx to hum in thought. "I am busy today, and Sev' is too. Besides, I don't think you'll enjoy each other's company" she glanced at Isha, who was drawing Stinkmaw on her notebook. "You'll just have to settle for Isha" the kid propped her head up at the mention of her name, already looking with stars in her eyes at Jinx, not aware of your previous conversation. "What do you say Isha? Want to have fun with your new friend? Give her a tour of the Undercity?", Isha sized you from head to toe with a snarl on her lips, eyes moving between you and Jinx while her face became more and more agitated. "Come on, she's not that boring" Jinx moved back to her work, sparks flying and lit up her face, "I should know". Your face grew hot with her words, remembering what happened between you two just weeks prior. Isha gave a disgusted 'ew', before Jinx turned her head to watch the kid, a shadow of anger in her eyes. "No excuses! Come on, just go around a bit, become friends!".

"Jinx I, I don't think this is a wise idea. I mean, Isha is just a kid: what if something happens? I-" Jinx interrupted you, her voice almost lost between the screeching sounds of metal scraps flickering sparks between each other. "You'll both be fine. Isha is a smart kid, she'll get out of any situation. As for you..." she turned to you, a teasing glint in her eyes, "...will you be able to keep up with her?".

'No, not at all' you answer to her mental image, struggling to keep your pace behind Isha. The kid is fast inside these tunnels, and your body is not accustomed to their narrow spaces and to the flow of smoke and waste. The metal feels light and shaky under your weight, giving you the impression that at the slightest of pressure, you will sink beneath and break your ribs into the concrete of just another of Zaun's alleys. You steady on, carefully applying your weight where each border of the metal tubes meet, following the shadow of Isha.

After what feels like ages, you finally spot the end of a tunnel, light shining on the dirty buildings giving it a green hue. Isha crawls towards it, leaving you behind in the dusty tunnels, prompting you to follow her quickly. The kid has already jumped in the street below, adjusting her hat on, turning her back to you while she begins to walk away. You take in a deep breath, calculating the height of your jump, before falling messily on the concrete.

"Ack, shit" Isha gives you a dirty look, "What?". She just rolls her eyes, before continuing on, not waiting for you. The Undercity is just what you expected: crowds of people fill it's street, smoking and squaring you up; sellers shout to lure in buyers, presenting their merch of metal husks, hundreds of different flavours of tobacco and pieces of meat that you'd rather not know from what they came from. At the far corners, gang groups threaten and push against each other, their blades glinting with a malicious look. The streets are lit by bright neon signs, filled with all possible smells and gasses, overcrowded to the point that you're short of breath. Distantly, you can hear the sound of machinery evermoving, of water and air and of shipments departing from shore. The city itself beats and pumps, like a living heart.

Everything is suffocating; too loud, too much. And what's worse is, everyone knows that you don't belong. Their eyes are envious, angry, a dangerous hate barely hidden beneath their scleras. Hell, Isha, the kid who is known to have a kind heart, can barely hide it. For a moment, too caught up in your mind and it's worries, you miss Isha turning around, entering a dark hallway. You follow her blue locks until you're far from people, now only surrounded by high walls and some couples making out in a corner. On one wall there are signs of damage: claws and dents and what looks to be a... strange green goop staining the bricks, along with scraps of metal of an exoskeleton.

You find Isha sitting at the corner where the street opens, back against the wall. You are not too sure what she is doing: after all, she has proved to be rather uninterested in you. What you don't realize, not at first anyway, is that she had run through the crowd into the alley to lure you away from that noisy hell so you'd have time to get used to it. Sliding down next to her, your clothes drag down the dirt and dust of years behind them. Silence feels heavy above your head, the distant sounds of the crowd the only thing keeping you at least a bit sane.

Isha has found a pastime in rolling the hem of her hat on the ground, trying to make a perfect spin with it. The sounds of metal against concrete screech inside the hallway, attracting more than just one pair of eyes. You can feel Isha's reluctance to begin so close to you, probably thinking to herself that it was a mistake waiting for you. When the silence feels too heavy, then you finally speak. "Isha...listen" the hat spinning stops abruptly, it's hem catched between Isha's thumb and index finger. "I know you don't like me" she's surprised that you decided to face the problem right away; it's not something your people are known for. "You've made it all too clear these past days. I know you are wary of me; I know the Undercity is wary of us". The kid's eyes are now on you, studying, squaring you up, detecting any lies that you may hide under your sweet words.

"But... I am not my city. I know what you have been through and I am..." you falter for a moment, thinking that you're starting to sound a little too guilty and invested in this, and that she may recognize this as insincere. "What I meant to say is... I would like to be your friend, if you want to".

Isha doesn't answer you right away, but you see a small smile spread on her lips. You breathe a sigh of relief at successfully bringing down her walls.

She jumps back up, extending her hand to yours, palm open and a curious smile on her face. You take it, careful to not push your weight down on her before you too stand up.

"Come on, let's go home. This is good enough of a tour for me today", you take Isha's hand, ready to walk back to Jinx's, before something clutters inside the hallways, spreading its dull, hollow metal sound everywhere. The sound gets closer and closer, the item of its origin stopping its course at your feet. It's a cylinder shaped, stubby looking object; drawn on its surface are what you recognize to be Jinx's drawings, imitating a grinning gaping mouth of some evil creature. The red light you are so familiar with, the one which with Jinx blows her enemies to bits, is off.

"Well, look what we have here. The runt of that crazed bitch and Piltover's finest trash". From under the fuming tubes, a tall, scruffy looking man shows up. His hair is in a buzz cut style, thin muscles tightly attached to his bones, making him look starved and unkept. Black tattooed run over his forehead and cheeks, giving his sulken eyes even more of a crazed look. His goons all show up after him, exiting from their hidden spots. "What do you want?" you try to sound though, but the wavering of your voice only gives away your fears. Isha hides behind you, clutching tightly at the fabric of your pants.

"Oh we don't want anything from you. But you see..." he reaches to fish something out of his pants. You see it before he shows it: the hem of a knife. He slides the blade out of its sheath, glimmering dangerously in the dark. "...that darling bitch of yours took something from us. Well, to be honest, someone. Someone very dear to our group" you look in between you and Isha, then at the distance between you and the goons, trying to think of an escape.

"What do you mean? How do you know Jin-" he laughs creepily, a little too high for your tastes, echoing between the walls. "How do I know Jinx? Everyone knows Jinx!" he gesticulates with the knife still in his hand, dangerously close to hitting himself in the eye with it. He inspects the blade with something dark inside his thoughts, dulling the colour out of his eyes. With a creepy and disturbing smile on his lips, he runs his finger along the line, blood trickling down its shape. He seems to take a sick kind of pleasure from seeing red staining the metal. "I gotta give it to her though, she really aimed high: fucking someone from Piltover is something none of us would dirty ourselves trying to".

A vein under your skin pumps blood into your brain faster, giving you the prospect of an annoying headache, "Watch that tone-". "Never thought that that small, smart runt would become what she is today. Powder really outdid herself", you don't miss the cruel smirk which paints his lips, enjoying infecting your relationship with Jinx. "Powder?" the name doesn't ring a bell, and you're left with the man's ominous eyes peering into your heart, telling you that 'you don't know anything'.

"Oh look, trust runs so deep between you two that you don't even know her real name! Did you really think a parent could ever name their child 'Jinx'?" the rest of his group laughs and mocks you like their leader is, like a hoard of sheep follows their shepard. "I don't need to know her name. If there is a reason why Po- Jinx is keeping her real name a secret from me, I am not gonna pry it open from her" you can feel your heart pump blood faster into your veins, that small headache becoming stronger and stronger as anger takes hold of your actions. "Mhm? Just like she kept her family's deaths a secret?" those words feel heavy when he speaks them, clearly holding some truth behind them. You try to remain calm but anger and fear are affecting your judgment. "W-What? What the fuck are you talking about?" their ugly laughs fill your ears, only aiding in alimenting the fire at your heart. "After our little...fight, he changed. He started to hang out with the wrong people, doing the wrong things..." slowly, ever so slowly, all of them start to circle around you. One, two, four, six of them, sporting grinning smiles, stalking you like hyenas.

"But he would have been the same has always, even if he had become dumber than he was. He would have been alive too, at this moment, if Vander hadn't intervened". None of what this man is saying makes sense to you. He's talking to you, but his words are meant for others: for his friends, for Isha, for Jinx. You, once again, are reminded that you're not welcome here. In their eyes, hate and hunger swirl, creating a whirlwind that sucks away at your courage, "Just...what do you want from me?!".

"Jinx and that sister of hers took our friend from us. Our boss. Now-" with mastered precision, he makes the blade jump from his hands, now it's tip pointing towards the ground. Something that you can only describe as burning hatred and killing intent paints his features, before he screams a rallying cry, "It's our turn taking everything from her!".

That is enough for the whole lot of them to pounce. One moment, and they are all on you; punching, kicking, twisting your hair in their grasp, snarling and mocking. In the confusion you lose Isha, not being able to distinguish her blue locks in between all that green and grey. For a split second, after they consume their gloves on you, no one is holding you down. You take the occasion to slip away from their grasps, falling backwards into the opening street. You take a second to choose what to do, and as you run towards the crowd once again, following where you assume Isha went, a feeling of anger rises in your stomach. The sound of the busy street echoes, a distant reminder that you have a life to return to, but something tugs at your heart to look at them in the eyes. Blood pumps fast in your veins, alerting every muscle, every bone, every fiber that danger is near, you need to go, but your heart, brain, the pride you take in begin still alive overtakes your judgment. You stop to look at them, the prospect of a challenge in your eyes, of saying 'Look at me!' and incite them to follow 'I am still alive!'.

They look like ravenous beasts, hunched backs and gleaming eyes, angry snarls on their faces, hate coursing through their veins. The leader of the group, the scruffy looking one, fishes something from his back and places it on the bottom of his face: it's a mask, made with grey metal and sprayed with fake golden accents to give it a more classy look. On the side there's a circular opening with a single point in the centre. He takes a syringe and inserts it in the hole, pushing the top down and filling the hollow cavities of the mask with purple gasses. He takes in a deep breath, eyes rolling backwards, before his body goes through a strange change, twitching and moving like he had been shocked. When he looks back at you his eyes are a deep, neon pink, the same shade of colour that paints Jinx's eyes. He moves towards you, pushing and snarling at his friends like a dog with rabies, breaking their bones on the walls, before, with all the air in his lungs, screams, "I'm going to enjoy skinning that piltie's clean skin away from your body!".

You don't make it far before, with an uncanny precision, he throws his blade towards you like a spear, metal sinking inside of your left side, dangerously close to your kidney. A gasp leaves your body before you fall on the floor, blood oozing from the wound. Hundred of needles pierce at your flesh, blood paints the concrete and your mind fuses with the flesh of your brain. Then it all stops; you're back in the alley, cold spreading from the wound throughout your body, followed by a unbearable heat. The blade is snatched from your side, an ear shattering scream erupting from your throat. He is on top of you, already inching the knife to the base of your neck, planning to stab you there, wanting to see the life leaving your body in the most gruesome way possible. "I can't wait to see the look on your girlfriend when I am going to bring her the eyes of her most loved!".

"Bye bye, piltie" you brace yourself for your end; you can almost already feel the knife lodged in your throat, but nothing happens. You hear the sound of a metal hulk resonating in the hallway, before he is knocked down by something thrown with force against his face. You recognize it to be the exoskeleton of the arm you saw before, lying around. The rod which was the building foundation for its making has been thrown on the man's ugly bat-like nose, making him bleed red.

Isha stands behind you, still in launching position, before she runs over to you and tries to help you up. When you do, white behind your eyelids blinds you, pain making your head spin. He gets up again, an animalistic wild look in his eyes. He moves again, muscles hardened with purple veins running along them, drool falling down the space between the mask and his skin. Before he can assault you again, Isha throws something at him: the bomb he himself kicked before, the one Jinx had made, moves through the air, soon to be the second object to hit his ugly face today. He recognizes the object and pales when he sees a red light zipping faster and faster, its grinning mouth inching closer to him.

A colorful light shines on the walls, paint of blue and pink shades falling down like rain; sparks of fire following the natural course of an explosion, fading out of existence a moment later. You run with Isha, hand in hand, away from this horrid place. This time, you don't look back.

A trickle of sweat falls down Jinx's temple while her eyes are focused on connecting two tubes of plastic together. Electricity flows through them, sending sparks flying dangerously close to her skin, before they are connected by the metal snaps on each of their ends. Jinx smiles as her creation takes its first movements, loudly clapping two copper coloured, round, small discs together, before stopping once again. Her fingers twist the key positioned on its back and the mechanic monkey comes to life once again. When her work is finally done, she puts it next to the other one she made hours prior.

The one meant for Isha is coloured with golden accents and decorated with graffitis all over. When turned on, it quickly smashes the plates against each other and plays an off-tune punk song if the button on its right leg is pushed; its eyes are golden, mimicking Isha's own. The one meant for you is far softer than the first: soft shades of pastel mix together with Jinx's characteristic pink, swirling your colours together. Instead of plates, it has a small, roughly knitted red heart in its hands. The left eye shines bright pink, while the other mirror's yours. There are no graffiti on it, except for a small heart on its chest, one near 'your' eye and a 'Jinx' on its left side.

She can't wait to see the look on your eyes when you will see it. She could never quite well express affection like other people do, so giving you gifts was what she did best. Just as she dreams of your face, she hears quick, loud steps coming closer and closer to her. "If you are Caitlyin, I appreciate your obsession with me, but I am in the middle of-" she recognizes Isha's laboured breaths and your pained groans before she can finish the phrase. And when she turns around, her face pales and her blood freezes. Isha has a panicked look to her face, one that she had never seen before; and you? Sweat falls with heavy tears down your face, the shade of your skin so much paler than it usually is, making you look almost dead. Your hand is tightly clutched on your side, where your hand is stained with...blood?

In a fraction of a second, Jinx is on you, hands checking at every curve of your body, focusing on places you might be hurt, while she asks question upon question, filling the air with a sense of urgency. You can only describe the look in her eyes as pure dread. If you didn't groan with pain every few seconds, you'd think Jinx was the one to have gotten hurt. The next few minutes are a whirlpool of movements and colours, making you spill your lunch on the floor. Soft fabric meets your back, suddenly naked with only your bra to cover your chest. Blood oozes faster out of you and you can feel your conscience leaving. Nothing else besides the red on your skin and the blurred shades of blue and brown exists for you.

"...ont worry, I al... got m... sis...er out of ...ble". When after wetting your wound with water, Jinx presses gauze on your body, you are suddenly brought back to life, violently. It feels like someone is crushing with all their might on you, despite Jinx applying the right pressure to the wound. If someone were to walk in right now hearing your screams, they'd think you were begin murdered. After what finally feels like an eternity, you are lying again on her bed, almost lifelessly. You don't have time to answer Jinx's questions, before you fall into a deep slumber.

Half an hour passes by, and the world seems sealed in a bubble of silence. Nothing moves. nothing makes noise, nothing happens. The only thing that does make noise are the voices in Jinx's head, screaming loudly at her for having let you go alone. 'You should have been there', 'See what happens when you let people into your life?', 'She is hurt. She might die. It's your fault'.

Their loud screams are enough to make one go crazy, but despite how confused she is, Jinx finds a will in herself to speak, to silence them. With her hand, she nudges Isha, getting her attention, and mouths "What happened?".

Isha doesn't answer. Her eyes burn holes into the metal of the helix, bottom lip tightly sealed under her teeth, before something in her breaks. She rushes in Jinx's arms, hiding herself into her chest, crying until the tears are gone and her throat is raw. They stay together, tangled into one another, for a while, until their bodies are cold. "Isha, what happened?" Jinx repeats.

Isha gets up, running over Jinx's desk and returns with two different coloured pencils. On the ground she draws a scene: you and her, hand in hand, with frowning faces; behind you six grinning figures, one taller than the rest. Green splattered on the ground and high walls. Jinx recognizes this place immediatley; she's been there just a couple of weeks prior.

Walking to her desk, she grabs her trusted gun and more than a dozen of bullets. A deep, hateful scowl paints her features, eyes shining brighter than usual.

Tonight, the undercity shines and roars with fervor. Its lights shine bright and the shouts of its inhabitants brings it to life, beating strong, like the heart of a dragon. The city seems to sway in tandem with Jinx's white cape, almost bending to her will but also shielding her, hiding her in its crowds. This is home. This is all Jinx has ever known and ever will. She knows it's streets like the palm of her hand: where to leave her mark, the highest places she can reach from which she can put a bullet in between her enemies eyes, which vents and tunnels will take her back home.

She knows exactly where you had been hurt, and if her predictions are correct, they're waiting for her there. And she's gonna give them what they want. The allway is far too serene to be one of the city's main ways out to the perimeter where steel factories and shipments are. It's uncharacteristically quiet, and by Zaun's rules, that means danger.

Jinx steps on the green gooey substance, observing the dripping of your blood leading to the city's main street, and anger boils inside her at that view. The square is empty, except for a series of tubes and a pitfall to its left. Just as she thought, she begins to hear steps coming into her direction. They had been expecting her.

"If you weren't trying, and failing, to ambush me, I'd say you have a crush" the man behind her simply scoffs, his breath coming out ragged and metallic from under his mask.

Jinx turns around to see a tall man, breathing through what she recognizes to be a mask that henchmens of shady organizations wore to enhance their physical abilities. After a moment, she recognizes blood staining the man's pale skin, half of his left hand blown off, rudimental replaced with a metal prosthesis at the last minute. She can ignore that just fine, but the exposed muscle of his left cheek makes her want to puke. "Wow, and you're even more grotesque than I thought" a cruel anger swirls inside her eyes, her lips curling up in a snarl. "What? Were you so anxious to try to kill me that you couldn't even let your wounds heal?" he laughs at her words, men closing in on her much like they did hours prior to you.

"We were waiting for you, Powder" the mention of that name pangs at her heart. Subtly, she touches the top of her gun, ready to draw it at the first sign of danger. "I figured. How do you know my name?" "A man can know much...if he is in the right place, at the right time" he falls silent when Jinx laughs at his words, anger making a vein in his head pop. "Damn. I thought you were pathetic already, but this whole 'supervillain' talk only makes you seem more of an ass than you already are" much like Jinx, he grabs the death of his knife. At the sign, his men form a half circle around the blue haired criminal, directly closing the only way out. "You won't talk all that shit after I sink my blade in your throat" she can't help but feel compassion for these poor bastards. Faintly, she can already feel their blood falling on her skin while putting bullets between their eyes. "I would like to see you try" she changes her body stance, right side facing them while she takes out her gun with her left hand, making a show of placing the bullets in. Unlike what she thought, they do not follow her; instead, the leader seems relaxed as ever. His dark eyes reflect hers and for a second Jinx can see a dangerous, maniacal glint in them and a cruel grin on his lips.

"Oh I did try, and succeeded, with your little piltie bitch-girlfriend" her breathing stops, heart missing a beat, and time seems to stop for a moment, before it all starts to spin again, faster and faster as she gets angrier and angrier. "You should have heard her screams. The sweetest I've ever heard" she imagines you, clutching at your side, tears in your eyes and spit falling off your mouth; begging for him to leave you alone, to let you go. His features are lost under a black veil and painted over with a red open mouthed smile and tight eyes, not unlike the monsters that she has to fight with every night, as he raises the crimson blade and-.

"Don't you fucking dare" her throath feels raw when she speaks, almost as if she's spewing pure black hatred with each word. "Or what? What are you going to do?" 'He thinks he's the shit, huh?', she thinks, loading the storage to the brim and finally raising the barrel of her gun to aim on his forehead. "I am going to enjoy blowing your brains out"

'No one hurts the people I love'.

The next few seconds are a blur of colours and movement. Her body moves before her mind can understand what is going on. She ducks under something coming at her, kicking at the figure and sending them flying a few feet away from her. Someone pulls at her braids and she yelps, momentarily confused; in a fraction of a second, she blows their hand off, crouching and punching in the face a second figure. The blood on the ground, spilling from the screaming man gives everything a shape again and she's back to the alley. Three men are down, two unconscious and one debilitated. The remaining ones look at her up and down, before the leader nudges them, kicking their shins.

One of them takes a metal rod from his side and swings wildly at Jinx, paying no attention to where he hits. She dodges him with no effort and when he stops momentarily to rest his arm, she knocks his weapon from his hands and hits him in the neck with it, white replacing the colour of his eyes. The other, after seeing the bodies of who used to be his companions, runs away, leaving his leader behind; but before he can make it far, a bullet runs fast through his chest and he falls to the floor, lifeless.

He is the last one standing. "Heh, you call yourself a leader, but you couldn't even save your men". His teeth grind harshly against each other, sending jolts of pain through his mouth, "Shut the fuck up".

But Jinx doesn't. No, she's going to enjoy torturing the life out of this fucker like he did to you. "You didn't even lift a finger. I didn't know Zaun could have such a coward walking through its streets".

He finally snaps, spit flowing out of his mouth as he screams, staining the mask inside "I said shut up!". He breathes in the chemical Jinx is so familiar with, huffing purple clouds out of the mask with a metallic sound. Once again, he feels the rush of the substance in his lungs, blood circling small purple bubbles throughout the body, strengthening his muscles and blanking his mind. But this time, his body starts to twitch and shake, slipping out of his control.

The heart beats faster, the lungs lose their air and move erratically, blood flows freely through his body and bones morph, stretching and breaking and strengthening. His muscles cannot be sustained by the bones anymore, and he falls to the floor. The space inside his ribcage feels tighter, his lungs can only provide so much until finally, his body stops changing and he can stand up, much taller than Jinx now.

The blue haired criminal looks incredibly unimpressed with her opponent's new shape, her eyes studying his moments and planning the next few seconds. That grotesque creature lunges, pushing his whole weight on the top of his body, falling messily when Jinx dodges him. She ducks under a clawed swing, rolling through the space between his legs; then, while he is confused and looking for her, aims at his neck.

The bullet lodges itself into the skin, remaining snugly fit between flesh. The scream that leaves him could have woken up the dead. His nails dig into his neck, trying desperately to yank the bullet out, but to no avail. He turns and turns, like a cat chasing its tail, before dizziness gets to him and he falls to the floor, spilling saliva all over the concrete. When he looks around once again, he is face to face with Jinx's gun, staring at the black hole of the barrel. "You made a mistake crossing me, today. Let this be a lesson" she tilts the gun until it's flat against his forehead. He is not capable of forming words anymore, they die at the base of his throath, leaving only emptiness behind. For a moment, she can see in his eyes something that resembled her, many years ago: a scared animal, one that does not understand what their fate will be. But when her mind reminds her of how viciously he attacked you, and how you are lying in her bed, with no assurance that you'll wake up, anger bubbles once again behind her eyes, clouding her thoughts.

"I'm sorry" is all that he hears, before his body falls to the floor, life leaving his eyes.

Her heart feels cold, as well as her body and mind. Jinx, in her own kind of weird way, is already trying to make peace with the fact that, once she comes back home, you might be gone. All too often in her life she had to come to terms with the death of her loved ones, and all too often, she was directly involved with their demise. She can already picture it: you on the bed, blood staining your clothes and the mattress, Isha on her knees, crying her heart out. She, coming home, seeing your dead body lying on what used to be your little shared creek, shielded by the world, falling to her knees and her heart finally giving out to pain, soon to follow you.

From the crack inside the wall, she can spot the helix of her home, the one she'll soon walk over to reach you. She tries to move, but to no avail: her body doesn't let her. Her muscles are reduced to mush, her legs feel like lead and her heart heaves on her rib cage so much that she had to bend down, clutching at her chest to try and ignore that pain. She could stay here forever, stalling time to this single minute, winding it back over and over and over again, all for the purpose of pretending she's still with you, back in your apartment in Piltover, laying naked on the bed with serene smiles on your faces.

But she can't. Even if she could stop time, right here and now, what could she do? Nothing would change. You'd still be dead, she'd still be heartbroken, the bed would still be cold on your side.

She slips inside the crevice, body molding to its shape, before she is face to face with the entrance to her home. She's so lost in her dread and fear that, for a moment, she doesn't hear the sound of laughter from the inside. When her mind recognized the sound, the pitch of the voice she so longed to hear, tears prickled at her eyes and hope filled her heart. She rushes towards the sound, almost tripping down the helix and falling to her death.

There you are. Laying on the bed, laughing weakly as Isha gesticulates and shouts loudly, imitating some sort of monster. Every little light inside her home has been placed near you, probably by Isha, and lifts your figure with a myriad of colorful shades. You look like a living painting to her.

You can't even process seeing her when she's already on you, touching you everywhere, checking your pulse, grabbing onto your legs to assure herself, to make sure that you...

"Are you... really alive?". You could crumble right here and now under those tearful eyes of hers, so soft and beautiful, looking almost powder blue. You stretch your arms to reach down to her, hugging her close to you; "I am, I am". Jinx takes a moment to process your hug and your words; and when she does, when she's certain that you are alive, that you are okay, her walls crumble away.

She pulls you down towards her, wanting to reciprocate the hug, but impatience gets the better of her and instead pulls herself on the bed, halfway reaching you. Her head rests on your belly, tears staining your clothes when she feels your hand on her back. "I thought-! I thought you-" her words die in her throath when she feels your fingers cupping at her cheek, pulling her to rest on her knees and look into your eyes. "I know, I know. I am okay".

Tears fall freely down her cheeks once again, her bottom lip wavering before she takes refuge in your body, hiding her tears on your lap. "I am so glad! I am so glad...".

Once her tears dry, she pushes herself to look at you, eyes puffy and red. "You are okay" she says, and you're about to assure her once again, but something tells you that she's really talking to herself. She climbs on the bed with you, quickly resting her head on your chest. You can't help but smile at her, ready to cuddle together when you realize you've let someone out of the picture. Isha looks at you both with those big eyes of her, pouting. She knows exactly how to push your buttons.

"Come on kid, get in" come Jinx's words, quickly followed by Isha tangling herself in between your bodies and closing her eyes, sleep already overtaking her. "Man, she sure takes a lot of space" you chuckle, placing your hand on Isha's head and stroking her locks between your fingers, hearing a small contented sigh from her. "Yeah, but she deserves it". A heavy silence fills the space, one that you usually pair up with tranquillity, but who you quickly realize is loud for your lover. "Jinx... I am okay" stopping them from screaming in her ears is hard, but when you are with her, they vanish off of existence. Your voice brings her back to reality, as well as reminding her that you have gotten hurt. Letting herself relax after the storm is something she's not used to. "I know" but she can try.

Starting this conversation will be a pain, you think to yourself, but you need to tell her.

"...He told me your real name, Jinx. And, what you did". Quick snapping sounds, mixed with hushed voices and distant screams fill her head in a second, getting louder by the second. She doesn't find in herself the strength to answer, too tired from the day's events; but nevertheless, listens. She leans on the bed, eyes dark and attentive. The scent of your skin fills her nose and she braces herself for your next words. "But...I don't care".

What?

"I don't know what you've been through, but... I don't need to know. You will tell me if you want to". It all stops. Every sound, every shout or whisper, every heartbeat or pulse of electricity. It seems, for a moment, that all becomes white and quiet, before the world starts to spin again. You feel her strong fingers push you more towards her, one cold hand under your clothes, right where your wound is. "Thank you toots, that means a lot".

Less than twenty seconds of silence later, she's already pestering you with her worries again, "Does it hurt? Do I need to give you som-" you interrupt her, taking her hand in yours. Normally, you would be a little annoyed by her continuous train of words, but she needs to be reassured. She needs to hear it from you, how many times it takes. "I am okay. I just need you here with me".

That seems enough to let her finally bear down her worries and she quickly rests on the bed, eyelids heavy and a yawn in her throath. "...I made you a monkey...gift" she slurrs over her words, already slipping in and out of conciousness. "Oh really?". "Yeah...". You too are about to follow her shortly, and before you let sleep overtake you, you reach behind and place a kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight Jinx" she smiles, catching your lips in a quick peck and pushing her nose in the crevice of your shoulders; "Goodnight toots".

Bonus ----------------

When Sevika came home that night, after her usual gambling and drinking out in Zaun's bar, she certainly did not expect to find the messily tangled body of limbs that were you, Jinx and Isha.

As quietly as she possibly can, she takes the chair Jinx sits on while doing her evil scientist machineries and sits next to your bed. Placing a cigar in between your lips and lights it, blowing the smoke away in the opposite direction. She looks back at the bed, multiple coloured lights shading your peacefully sleeping figures. She stays silent for a moment, before she crouches on her knees and shakes the tip of the cigar, firing crumbling pieces of tobacco down on the floor. "They do look pretty cute".

[4linos]

he’s jealous of another member

ot8 x fem!reader

warnings: angstyy, jealousy, feeling insecure/unworthy, arguing, fluff for some members (:

wc: 10,081

(my special thank you post for 1,000 followers 💞🥹. thank you everyone for following my silly little blog.)

bang chan

The days had blended together. You'd been patient with Chan, as always. Your relationship was strong and quiet, built on mutual understanding and respect. He had work, music, and responsibilities, while you had your own life and routines. You didn't always demand his attention, even when it felt like you were getting the short end of the stick.

But today... today was different.

You’d been waiting for hours.

You knocked on Chan’s door, expecting him to take a break from his work, just for a while. “Hey, you got time to hang out for a bit?” you’d asked, trying to sound casual. He had responded with the usual half-hearted, distracted “in a few minutes,” which was his go-to response when he was buried in his work.

You didn’t mind at first. After all, you knew how much his music meant to him, and you never wanted to be the one to pull him away from something he loved. You could wait. You were patient. But as the minutes dragged into hours, you started to feel a pang of loneliness settle in. He was so absorbed in his work, so consumed by his passion, that you felt like an afterthought. The more you waited, the more the ache in your chest grew.

It wasn’t just that you wanted to spend time with him. You needed to. You had been there for him through everything, supportive and understanding, even when it felt like he wasn’t really noticing. But this? This was starting to hurt.

You were about to go stir-crazy from just sitting there, when Felix called. You answered, needing a distraction, needing something to break the silence and the isolation you were feeling in Chan’s dorm. “Hey, you wanna come hang out at my dorm? We’re just chilling here, nothing special, but it could be fun.”

You hesitated for only a moment before deciding. You hadn’t heard from Chan for hours, and it seemed like he wasn’t even aware of how long you’d been waiting for his attention. You figured it was better to get out, spend time with friends, rather than sit around in silence, feeling invisible.

You didn’t tell Chan where you were going. It wasn’t intentional; you didn’t mean to leave him hanging or make him feel like you were punishing him. You just... left. You weren’t sure if you were doing it to get back at him or because you just needed some company, but whatever the reason, it didn’t seem to matter.

Hours passed, and you had a good time with Felix. He made you laugh, distracted you from the nagging feeling of being ignored, of being forgotten. The night was lighthearted, carefree, and for a while, it felt like everything was fine. But the weight of your silence with Chan was still there, hanging over you. You couldn’t help but feel like you were drifting further from him with each passing minute.

It wasn’t until you got a text from Jeongin asking if you were still at Felix’s that you realized how much time had gone by. You stood up, saying your goodbyes to Felix, who gave you a warm hug and made you promise to hang out again soon. You needed to get back to Chan, to try and make things right.

But when you walked back into the dorm, the sight of Chan standing there fuming, his face twisted with frustration was the last thing you expected.

His voice, cold and sharp, broke the silence.

“So, you have a type then?” His words were laced with bitterness, his gaze a mix of hurt and anger. “When one Aussie won’t give you attention, you run to another?”

You froze, your stomach sinking as his words hit like a slap to the face. He wasn’t even looking at you anymore his eyes were fixed on Felix, who was standing nearby, his hands still wet from doing dishes. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension.

You opened your mouth to explain, but before you could say anything, Felix was the first to speak, his voice defensive. “Chan, that was a low blow. You can’t just accuse her like that. She didn’t do anything wrong.”

You turned to Chan, feeling the sting of his words. “I asked for your attention hours ago,” you said, your voice quiet, hurt. “I didn’t want to spend the night alone. I wanted to hang out with you. But you didn’t notice, and I waited. I waited for you... and then Felix invited me to hang out, so I went. I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Chan looked stunned for a moment, as if the reality of what you were saying hadn’t fully hit him. But his face hardened again as he glanced at Felix, and his tone grew more cutting. “Yeah, because clearly, Felix is more fun than I am. You didn’t even think to tell me where you were going, did you? Just run off whenever you feel like it.”

Your heart broke at the accusation. It wasn’t what you had done it was how he had twisted it, as if you had done something wrong. You hadn’t even thought about how hurtful it would be to him; you just wanted to feel seen.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Chan. I’m just... I’m tired of always waiting around. I wanted to spend time with you, and I waited. But you were too busy, and I didn’t want to keep sitting there. I’m not asking for much, I just... I wanted to be with you.”

Felix, who had been standing there, quietly watching the exchange, spoke up again, his voice softer now, understanding. “Chan, you can’t expect her to just wait around forever. She has her own life, her own needs. You can’t keep pushing her away and expect her to always be there when you decide you’re ready to give her attention.”

The silence that followed felt like it lasted an eternity. Chan didn’t respond immediately. His eyes were distant, his jaw clenched as he tried to process everything you were saying.

You could see the guilt settling on his face now, but it wasn’t enough to erase the hurt that had built up between you two. His jealousy, his need to control, had taken over, and now it was too late. You weren’t sure if he could fix this.

“I’m sorry,” he finally muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t realize how much I was pushing you away. I’ve just been so focused on everything else that I... I didn’t see you were hurting.”

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “It’s not just about that, Chan. It’s about how you’ve been treating me, how you’ve been ignoring me. I’m not a backup plan, I’m not someone you only pay attention to when it’s convenient for you.”

Felix gave you a sad look before stepping away, sensing the gravity of the moment. You could feel the weight of Chan’s gaze on you, and it felt like the distance between you two had never been wider. You wanted to walk up to him, hold him, tell him it was okay, but you didn’t know if it would be okay anymore. His words, his jealousy, had created a rift that was hard to bridge.

With one final, shaky breath, you turned toward the door. “Thank you, Felix,” you said quietly, before walking out of the dorm without looking back at Chan.

You didn’t know where this left you or if things could ever go back to the way they were. But one thing was clear: you weren’t sure you could keep waiting around for someone who didn’t notice when you needed them the most.

lee know

It had been a typical evening at the studio with the rest of the group after practice. The energy was light, filled with laughter and chatter, and you were enjoying spending time with everyone. You had gotten close to each of the guys over the past few months, but one person who had always been like an older brother to you was Chan. He was caring, protective, and someone you’d grown to trust, almost like family.

Tonight, though, there was an innocent interaction that would shift the dynamic of your relationship with Minho, your boyfriend.

As you and the rest of the group were gathered in the lounge area, Chan approached you, holding his phone in his hand. “Hey, I want to show you this hilarious video,” he said, excited to share something with you. You nodded enthusiastically, eager to watch. But as you looked around, you realized there were no free chairs left, and the couch was already filled with the others.

Chan, ever the easygoing person, raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Well, I guess you’ll just sit on my lap then, since there’s no room anywhere else.”

You laughed, thinking it was just a joke. After all, you had known Chan for so long, and you had always viewed him as a brother figure. You didn’t think twice about it. “Sure, whatever,” you said casually, and you plopped yourself down on his lap, he held his phone in front of you so you could watch together.

You two watched the video together, laughing and chatting, with no intention of doing anything more. You had no idea how it would be received by someone else, especially Minho. You felt at ease around Chan, as you always had, but you couldn't shake the sense that someone else wasn't as comfortable.

Minho, sitting across the room, had been watching you with Chan for a while. His gaze hardened as he saw you and Chan laughing together. The sight of you sitting so naturally on his lap, your faces so close, set something off inside him. His stomach twisted with an unfamiliar feeling that slowly morphed into frustration.

He couldn’t quite put it into words, but as the minutes passed, that frustration grew. It was just so easy for you and Chan. So effortless. You were laughing with him, sharing moments that felt too intimate for his liking. Minho’s fists clenched at his sides as he watched you, jealousy bubbling up inside him. Even though he trusted you, there was something about seeing you with Chan in that moment that made him feel small, like maybe he wasn’t enough.

And when Chan stood up, still joking about the video, and said, “Alright, I’m heading out, see you guys later,” Minho’s eyes narrowed as he watched you stand up to give Chan a hug goodbye.

You wrapped your arms around Chan, giving him a quick, friendly embrace. “Bye, Chan! See you soon!” you said, not thinking anything of it. It was a natural, casual gesture between two friends who had known each other for years. But as Minho watched, the knot in his stomach tightened. The way you hugged him, so easily, so comfortably, it felt like a small betrayal. Not because you had done anything wrong, but because he had let his insecurities get the better of him.

You pulled away from the hug, and you could feel the shift in the atmosphere. Minho wasn’t looking at you anymore. His eyes were distant, his expression unreadable. He was avoiding you, and his silence spoke volumes.

The rest of the evening passed in an uncomfortable silence between you and Minho. He barely spoke to you, his responses clipped and snippy whenever you tried to engage with him. You could feel the tension in the air, but you didn’t know what had triggered it. What was wrong?

As the night went on, you couldn’t take it any longer. You needed to know what was bothering him, and you weren’t going to let it slide. You found him sitting by himself in the corner of the room, scrolling through his phone, his back to you.

You stood there for a moment, unsure of how to approach him, but then you took a deep breath and walked over. “Minho,” you called gently, your voice laced with concern. He didn’t look up at first, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. “What’s going on with you? You’ve barely said a word to me tonight.”

Minho’s jaw tightened as he glanced up at you, his eyes betraying the anger and hurt he was feeling. “Nothing,” he muttered, looking back down at his phone. “Just tired.”

You weren’t buying it. “Minho, I know something’s bothering you. I’m not stupid. You’ve been giving me one-word answers all night. What’s going on?”

He stayed silent for a few moments, before finally putting his phone down and turning his body to face you. His expression was cold, but his voice had a sharp edge to it. “You know exactly what’s bothering me.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” Minho’s voice was almost bitter now. “It’s Chan. It’s always Chan.” He paused, his frustration seeping through. “The way you were sitting on his lap, the way you hugged him goodbye like it was nothing... Do you not see how that makes me feel?”

You froze for a moment, surprised by the intensity of his feelings. “Minho… It’s not like that. Chan’s like an older brother to me. He’s been a part of my life for so long, and you know that. There’s nothing between us.”

Minho’s expression softened slightly, but there was still that underlying hurt. “I get that,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “But it still bothers me. I don’t like seeing you so comfortable with him like that. I don’t like feeling like I’m not enough.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. You had never seen Minho so vulnerable, so insecure. You stepped closer to him, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “Minho, you are enough. You’re everything to me. I love you, and I don’t want you to feel like that.”

Minho’s eyes flickered with something uncertain. “But what about Chan? What if you feel something for him that you don’t feel for me?”

You shook your head quickly, your heart aching for him. “No, Minho. You’re my one and only love. I could never feel that way about Chan. You’re the one I’m with. The one I want.”

He was silent for a moment, clearly processing your words. Finally, his lips curved into a teasing grin, and he leaned forward slightly. “Really?” he said, his tone lightening. “You’re sure my legs are stronger than his? You think I’m the one for you?”

You blinked in confusion, a little caught off guard by the shift in his mood. “What? Minho, what are you talking about?”

He chuckled lowly, his eyes mischievous now. “Well, you didn’t seem to think my legs were stronger when you were sitting on Chan’s lap. I mean, his legs must be stronger, right?”

You were immediately flustered, and before you could protest, Minho leaned in even closer, his teasing smile growing. “You’re not getting away that easily. Admit it. You think Chan has the stronger legs.”

You were caught off guard, your cheeks flushing at the playful teasing. “Minho, that’s not—” you stammered, trying to get a word in, but Minho’s arms circled around you, pulling you in tighter as he continued to mess with you.

“Come on, just admit it!” he teased, his hands tickling your sides lightly.

You laughed, wriggling to get free from his grip. “Okay, okay! You’re stronger, Minho! Your legs are stronger!” You finally confessed, laughing breathlessly as Minho pulled away, satisfied with your answer.

“Good,” he said smugly, resting his forehead against yours. “Now you know who’s got the stronger legs.” His eyes softened, and the teasing melted away as he cupped your face in his hands. “And I know I’m the one you love.”

You smiled up at him, your heart finally at ease. “You’re my biggest one and only love, Minho. Always.”

The tension from earlier was gone now, replaced with the comfort of knowing you had both worked through the misunderstandings. Minho’s jealousy had been born from his own insecurities, but after talking it through, you had reassured him that he was your one and only. And now, with the teasing and the laughter, everything felt right again.

It was just another test of trust in your relationship, one that had only made you stronger together.

changbin

The evening was supposed to be casual a simple hangout with Minho. You, Minho, and a few others were grabbing dinner, nothing out of the ordinary. Ever since Changbin introduced you to the group, you’d grown especially close to Minho. His dry wit, his easy-going nature, and the way he always made you feel at ease had led to a friendship that felt natural, comfortable. Changbin didn’t seem to mind at first, and you knew that he trusted you at least, you thought he did.

But when you told him you’d be spending time with Minho tonight, something in Changbin snapped. His face twisted with frustration, his brows furrowing in a way you hadn’t seen in months. He mumbled something about being "fine" but the words didn’t sit right with you. It wasn’t just the tone, it was the way he had turned away so quickly, his back rigid, his jaw clenched. You didn’t think much of it at the time, maybe he was just tired from work or stressed about something. But as the night wore on, the silence between you two grew heavy.

By the time you got back home, you were expecting a quick check-in, maybe a few playful words about how the dinner went. Instead, Changbin was pacing around your apartment, his expression hard and his eyes sharp. He didn’t even greet you, just asked coldly, “How was dinner with Minho?”

You froze for a second, sensing that something was off. “It was fine,” you said, trying to sound casual as you took off your shoes. “We had some good food. Why?”

His eyes narrowed, the intensity of his gaze making you uncomfortable. “You really seem to enjoy spending time with him, don’t you?” There was an edge to his voice now, one that made your stomach tighten with unease.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, laughing nervously, but Changbin didn’t return the smile. He took a step closer, his gaze intense, almost accusing.

“I’m talking about how you act around him,” he spat, his voice rising, and the frustration in his tone grew louder. “You always look so… happy when he’s around. But when I’m with you, it’s like I’m just some placeholder. Is that it? Are you really that close with him? Have I been fooling myself?”

You tried to hold back your shock, but the words hit you harder than you expected. “What? Changbin, that’s not—”

“No, no,” he cut you off, shaking his head as his anger surged. “Don’t act like I’m imagining things. You’re closer to Minho than you are to me. I see the way you look at him. It’s like he’s the only one who gets you.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, and you saw the raw vulnerability beneath his anger. He was hurt, and the jealousy gnawing at him was consuming him in a way you didn’t understand.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you tried to reason, your voice trembling now. “Minho is my friend. I’m not doing anything wrong.” You took a cautious step toward him, but he backed away, the space between you two feeling heavier than ever.

“You’re not ‘doing anything wrong’?” His voice was low now, tight with barely controlled rage. “I don’t know what’s worse, watching you laugh and joke around with him while I stand on the sidelines, or seeing you act like everything’s fine when I’m the one here, trying to hold this relationship together. I’m not good enough for you anymore, huh? I’m not the one who makes you happy. He is.”

You could see the pain in his eyes, the anguish behind the jealousy, and for a moment, your heart broke. But it wasn’t just the words. It was how they felt like a blow to your chest. You didn’t want to hurt him, you never did. But the situation felt impossible.

“Changbin, that’s not fair,” you said softly, your voice shaking. “Minho is my friend, and you’re my boyfriend. I care about both of you, but in different ways. You’re the one I’m with, Changbin. Why can’t you see that?”

His face softened for a brief second, but the insecurity still clouded his expression. “I see it, but I don’t feel it. I don’t feel like I’m enough for you. Every time you spend time with him, I start feeling like I’m losing you. I can’t… I can’t stand it.”

You reached out to him, but he flinched, stepping away before your hand could touch him. His back was to you now, his posture rigid, like he was trying to hold everything in.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” you said, voice breaking. “I can’t just cut Minho off. He’s been there for me, just like you’ve been. I need both of you in my life. I never meant to make you feel like this.”

Changbin’s shoulders trembled, but he didn’t turn to face you. The silence between you both was suffocating, and you could feel the weight of his jealousy pushing him further away.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke in a quiet, strained voice. “I don’t know if I can handle it anymore. Seeing you laugh with him, seeing him make you happy… It just makes me feel like I’m not enough.”

Your heart clenched, and you stepped closer, trying once again to reach him. But he was slipping through your fingers, and you weren’t sure how to stop it.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “But I don’t want to lose him, either. Please… don’t make me choose.”

He didn’t respond. The room felt cold, the air heavy with unspoken words. You could see the battle raging inside him the struggle between love and insecurity and you knew that, in this moment, there was no simple way to fix what had been broken.

The silence stretched on, and you realized that you were standing at a crossroads, unsure of how to navigate the emotional storm. The hardest part wasn’t the jealousy. It was the fear of losing both people you cared about, all because of something you never intended to break.

And now, all you could do was wait for Changbin to find his trust again, and hope that Minho’s friendship wouldn’t fall victim to the jealousy that threatened to tear everything apart.

hyunjin

Hyunjin had always been secure in his relationship with you. He trusted you, knew how much you loved him, and never doubted your loyalty. He was never the type to get jealous; he knew the boundaries of friendship, and Changbin was just that, your friend. In fact, Hyunjin admired how close you and Changbin had become over the years, seeing the bond as something healthy. You each had your hobbies and passions, and the balance between your personal space and time together was something that made your relationship work so well.

But recently, something had been stirring inside Hyunjin that he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t the feeling of inadequacy he knew that wasn’t it but more like a gnawing discomfort whenever you mentioned the gym or spent time with Changbin there.

You had always enjoyed working out, and Hyunjin, well, he preferred to stay home in his little studio, painting away. He loved the quiet, the solitude, the chance to get lost in his art. It had been your routine. He’d paint while you’d go to the gym, and then you’d both meet up later.

But as weeks passed, he noticed that something was different. He found himself more aware of the hours you were spending with Changbin, sharing in that space, laughing, working out together, getting to know each other even better. It wasn’t like he didn’t trust you he did, with everything in him but there was this sudden, unshakable feeling that maybe there was more to it than just fitness routines and friendly chatter.

At first, he told himself it was nothing. He couldn’t let his own insecurities get in the way. But when he found himself zoning out while trying to finish his latest painting, thoughts of you and Changbin at the gym would seep in. The image of you two lifting weights, your smiles, your shared moments… it began to bother him more than he expected.

Then, the shift came one evening when he was finishing up a piece in the studio, and he heard the familiar sound of your footsteps approaching. He looked up to see you standing in the doorway, and for a split second, he wondered if you were tired from your workout, or if something had happened. You gave him your usual smile, your face glowing from the exertion, but something felt off to him.

“You want to join us tomorrow?” you asked casually, like it was no big deal.

But Hyunjin’s mind began to race. You weren’t just asking about a workout session; you were giving him an opening to step into that space with you and Changbin. And for some reason, the thought of it filled him with a kind of anxiousness he couldn’t quite explain.

“I don’t know…” he mumbled, staring at his paintbrush, his fingers gripping it tighter than usual. “I’ve got a lot to do here.”

You tilted your head, sensing something was off but not pressing. “Okay, no worries. Just thought I’d invite you.”

The next few days followed a similar pattern. He’d find himself either painting in his studio or pacing the apartment, unable to focus on his work. You’d come home from the gym, and there was this lingering tension in the air, something Hyunjin couldn’t shake.

Finally, it happened. You and Changbin were heading out to the gym, and Hyunjin found himself at a crossroads. He had been pretending for weeks now that he didn’t care, but that feeling of jealousy had only grown stronger with each passing day. Maybe it was the late-night texts you and Changbin had exchanged about workout tips, or the inside jokes you’d developed with him. Maybe it was the way you spoke about him so casually like a friend you’d been close with for years. But to Hyunjin, it felt like something else, something more, something he was losing out on.

“Wait,” he said suddenly, before you could close the door behind you. His voice cracked slightly, betraying the frustration he had been holding back.

You turned to him, confused. “Yeah?”

“I… I think I’ll join you both at the gym today,” he said, his words coming out in a rush. “I mean, if that’s alright?”

You blinked in surprise. This was unlike Hyunjin, who had never expressed any interest in working out with you before. You smiled softly, assuming it was just a one-time thing, maybe just a way for him to get out of his studio for a while.

“Oh, okay! Sure, come on, it’ll be fun.”

But deep down, Hyunjin wasn’t joining because he suddenly felt like getting fit. No, he was joining because he needed to be closer to you, needed to have more control over what was happening. He didn’t like how much time you were spending with Changbin.

The gym was always meant to be a space for you to unwind, a time where you could let off steam and feel good about yourself, but now it felt different. The moment Hyunjin showed up, you noticed the shift. Changbin greeted him, and there was a brief awkwardness in the air. It wasn’t that Changbin was upset, but he could tell something was off. He gave Hyunjin a friendly nudge, but Hyunjin was too distracted, too wrapped up in his own feelings of insecurity.

The session itself was strange. Hyunjin didn’t know what to do with himself. He’d pick up weights, pretend to follow along with you two, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. He caught himself watching how you and Changbin interacted how comfortable you were, how you laughed at his jokes, how close you seemed. His stomach churned with an unspoken fear of losing that, of losing you to the connection you shared with someone else.

After the workout, when the three of you were sitting together, Hyunjin realized he couldn’t pretend anymore. The jealousy, the discomfort, all of it was too much to hide. It wasn’t about the gym or Changbin at all it was about the fear that maybe, just maybe, he was losing a piece of you he thought he had all to himself.

He waited until you both were headed back home, the tension thick in the air. You glanced at him, sensing his mood, and that’s when he let it all spill out.

“I don’t like it…” he admitted softly. “I don’t like how much time you’re spending with him. It’s not about Changbin. I trust him, it’s just… I feel like I’m losing something, like I’m not enough anymore.”

You stopped in your tracks, eyes wide. “Hyunjin… you know I love you, right? I didn’t think you’d feel this way.”

His face softened, guilt washing over him for letting his feelings get this far. “I didn’t want to feel like this. I just… I’m scared. I don’t want to lose you.”

You reached for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You haven’t lost me, Hyunjin. You never will. But you’ve got to trust me, trust us. Nothing’s going to change, okay?”

Hyunjin sighed, relief mingling with the heaviness in his chest. He knew it wasn’t about the gym or Changbin, it was about his own insecurities. And with you by his side, he could learn to let go of that fear.

HAN

You’d been so caught up in your own world lately. Between work, friends, and your hobbies, you didn’t even realize how distant things had become with Jisung. You had been spending more time with Seungmin, hanging out, going out, and laughing together. It wasn’t anything special at first. it was just easy, a friendship you both enjoyed. But lately, you felt something shift in the way you connected. Jisung had noticed, too, but he wasn’t saying anything. He kept it to himself, just like he always did when something bothered him.

One evening, you saw that a new movie had come out, a movie you and Jisung had been talking about watching together for weeks. You were both excited about it, and you had promised him you’d watch it the moment it was released. But when Seungmin invited you to hang out and go see the movie with him, you didn’t think twice. You figured Jisung would be fine with it. After all, you’d planned to watch it together, and it wasn’t like you were ditching him on purpose. You were just hanging out with a friend, right?

It wasn’t until you returned home that evening that you realized how wrong you were.

You walked in, expecting Jisung to be asleep or deep into his own world of music production, but instead, you found him sitting on the couch, looking uncharacteristically tense. He had been waiting for you. His eyes were locked on the screen, but his body was stiff, and his jaw was clenched, like he was holding something in.

“Hey, I’m back!” you said with a bright smile, tossing your bag onto the chair.

Jisung didn’t respond at first, his gaze still fixed on the TV. There was a long, uncomfortable silence before he finally turned to you, his face expressionless, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes hurt, disappointment. He couldn’t even look at you when he spoke.

“Had fun?” His voice was sharp, almost too casual, as if he was trying to hide the sting.

You froze, your smile faltering. “Yeah, it was good. Seungmin and I went to see that new rom com movie. It was really funny,” you said, not realizing how much the words would hurt him.

Jisung’s eyes darkened slightly, his lips pressing together in frustration. “You went to watch our movie... with Seungmin?”

You felt your heart drop at the change in his tone, but you couldn’t quite place the tension in his voice. “Jisung, I didn’t mean to... I just—”

“I know what you meant,” he snapped, cutting you off. “It’s fine. You’re allowed to do whatever you want.” He turned away from you, his posture tense, and you could see the way his fingers clenched into fists at his sides.

“Wait,” you said, stepping forward, trying to reach him. “Jisung, I didn’t think—”

“Didn’t think?” he repeated, turning back to face you, his face a mask of frustration and hurt. His eyes, usually so warm and full of laughter, were now clouded with something deeper, something darker. “You didn’t think. That’s the problem.”

You stood there, trying to piece it together. “I didn’t think what?”

Jisung finally let out a shaky breath, his emotions bubbling over in a way you had never seen before. “That movie,” he muttered, his voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve been talking about it for weeks. You promised me we would watch it together. And you went with Seungmin instead. Just like that.”

His words stung in ways you hadn’t expected. You tried to speak, but no words came. He was right. You had promised him you’d watch it together, and you had completely disregarded that promise. In the moment, it hadn’t even crossed your mind that it would hurt him. But now, as you saw the pain in his eyes, you realized just how much it meant to him.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you said softly, your heart aching. “I just... I wasn’t thinking. I thought you’d be okay with it. I’m sorry.”

Jisung shook his head, his voice thick with emotion. “You don’t get it, do you? I’ve been wanting to do something with you. Something just the two of us. And you went with him instead. How long has this been going on, huh? How long have you been pushing me aside for Seungmin?”

The question hit you like a punch to the gut. You never realized how much Jisung had been internalizing his feelings, how much he had been keeping inside while you were just going along with things, assuming everything was fine. You thought your bond was strong enough to handle a little time apart, but for him, it was a breaking point. He felt replaced, ignored, and left behind.

“Jisung, no, that’s not what this is about—” you began, but he cut you off again, his voice rising in frustration.

“I’m not stupid!” he shouted, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. “I know when I’m being replaced. I know when I’m not enough for you anymore. You’ve been pulling away from me for weeks, and I didn’t say anything. I thought it was just in my head. But now... now I can’t pretend anymore.”

The raw pain in his voice hit you like a wave, and you felt the tears well up in your eyes as you reached for him, desperate to make him understand. “No, Jisung, I need you to know that this isn’t about you! I care about you so much. You’re not being replaced, I swear. I never meant to make you feel that way.”

But Jisung was already pulling away, his face crumpling with emotion. “You don’t get it, Y/N. Every time I tried to make plans with you, you were too busy with Seungmin. Every time I tried to be there for you, you were already gone. I’m not just some backup. I don’t want to be someone you’re only half invested in.”

The words hit harder than you ever thought they could. You knew he was hurt, but hearing it all laid out in front of you made it feel like a punch to the gut. You didn’t mean to make him feel this way. You didn’t know how deeply it was affecting him, how much he was bottling up inside.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice cracking. “I didn’t realize how much this was hurting you. I never wanted to make you feel this way.”

Jisung didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he just stood there, his shoulders shaking as the weight of it all finally hit him. His facade cracked, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw him break down in front of you. His voice was barely a whisper as he spoke again, a tremble in his words. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this. Keep pretending that I’m okay when I’m not.”

Your heart shattered at the sight of him, and you reached for him, pulling him into an embrace. But he didn’t hug you back right away. He just stood there, limp in your arms, his face buried in your shoulder as he let out a choked sob.

“I’m sorry, Jisung,” you whispered over and over, feeling the weight of his pain pressing down on you. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I promise we’ll fix this. I’ll make it up to you. Please don’t shut me out.”

Jisung didn’t respond. Instead, he just clung to you, his tears soaking your shirt as the rawness of everything finally broke free. You knew that this wasn’t going to be easy to fix. But for the first time, you understood the depth of his pain. And you knew that if you wanted to save your relationship, you had to start listening, really listening, to how he was feeling before it was too late.

felix

It had been weeks now, but it felt like Felix was slipping further and further away. At least, that’s how it seemed to you. In the beginning, he had always known how to strike that perfect balance between spending time with you and indulging in his own hobbies. He always made sure to give you the attention you needed, whether that was planning spontaneous dates or simply being present, talking about your day, or even just lying in silence together. You were both busy people, but the moments you spent together were cherished.

But lately? Lately, Felix seemed distracted. He was often glued to his games, headphones on, fully immersed in his world, leaving you to feel like an outsider in your own relationship. The first few times, you brushed it off he was just in his zone. But it became a pattern. You would arrive at his place, excited to spend time together, only for him to be absorbed in his game, leaving you to sit quietly on the couch. He would tell you, “Just a few more minutes,” or “I’m almost done with this round,” his attention more on the screen than you.

You had tried to understand, tried to tell yourself that it was no big deal. But the more it happened, the more frustrated you became. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to enjoy his hobby, but it felt like you were becoming invisible to him. The moments that used to be filled with warmth and laughter now felt empty and lonely.

Today, you had planned to spend some much needed quality time together, but as usual, Felix was too focused on his game. He barely noticed when you walked into the living room. He greeted you with a distracted, “Hey, babe,” before putting his headset back on, signaling he was about to talk to his friends again.

It hurt. More than you expected it to.

You had always tried to be patient, to understand his need for downtime, but there was only so much you could take. You tried to sit next to him, but as soon as you did, you felt like an interruption. He barely acknowledged your presence, his attention fixed on his screen and the voices of his friends through the headset.

A surge of frustration bubbled up, and you stood up, pacing the room. “Felix, seriously? Can you give me some attention for once?”

“Just a few more minutes, please,” he said, barely looking at you. His voice was soft, but there was an edge of irritation in it, as if your request was an inconvenience.

You stood there for a moment, trying to hold it in, but the hurt was too much. “I’m not asking for much, Felix. I’m just asking for a little time together.”

His eyes flickered to you for a moment, his expression apologetic, but he didn’t take off his headset or pause his game. He didn’t even turn the volume down. You stood there, feeling small and invisible, before the frustration finally overtook you.

“I’m going to the living room,” you muttered, walking out of the room before he could say anything.

In the living room, you found Jeongin lounging on the couch, his phone in hand, scrolling through something. He looked up when you entered, offering a half-smile.

“What’s going on?” he asked casually, noticing the way you were clearly fuming.

“Felix is being…” You trailed off, unable to fully explain. “He’s just been ignoring me all day. I’m so frustrated.”

Jeongin raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so he’s gaming again?”

You nodded, rubbing your temples. “Yeah, that’s all he does now. I don’t even know why I’m surprised at this point.”

Jeongin’s expression softened slightly. “Sounds like you need to get out of here for a bit.”

You laughed bitterly. “You’re not wrong.”

Jeongin tilted his head, considering. “Want to do something? I’m free.”

You hesitated, looking at him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t spent time with Jeongin before, but you also didn’t want to make Felix feel more neglected than he probably already did. But at the same time, you couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.

“Yeah, let’s go shopping,” you suggested, needing a change of scenery, needing to not be stuck in that apartment feeling invisible.

Jeongin jumped up, clearly excited. “Shopping? I’m in. Let’s go.”

You grabbed your purse and walked out without telling Felix anything. You weren’t sure why you felt so petty, but you didn’t feel like explaining yourself to him right now. You needed space from Felix, space from the frustration that had been building up. You just wanted to feel like you mattered again, like you weren’t always second to his games.

A few hours later, you were walking around the mall with Jeongin, laughing at random things, enjoying the simplicity of not having to deal with the tension back at the apartment. You didn’t think about Felix, didn’t even check your phone until it buzzed in your pocket.

It was a call from him.

You sighed before answering. “Hey.”

“You’re not here,” Felix’s voice came through, and there was a clear note of annoyance in it. “I’ve been waiting for you. Where did you go?”

You didn’t feel guilty at first. You just felt exhausted. “I’m out. With Innie.”

“Innie?” Felix’s voice tightened, and you could almost hear him grip the phone harder. “You left to go hang out with him instead of being here with me?”

You froze, the frustration from earlier bubbling up again. “I didn’t leave to hang out with Jeongin. I left because you’ve been completely ignoring me, Felix. You’ve been glued to your game all day, and I’ve tried to be patient, but it’s like I don’t even exist when you’re playing.”

There was silence on the other end, and for a moment, you thought Felix was going to apologize. But when he spoke again, his tone was sharp. “So this is how it’s going to be? You’re going to leave just because I’m playing a game? That’s really mature of you.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden snap in his voice. “Felix, I’m not asking you to drop everything, but I can’t keep being ignored like this. I want to spend time with you, but it feels like you don’t care about that anymore.”

The line was silent for a long moment, and you could feel your heart sinking. When he finally spoke again, his words were cold. “I guess I’m just not enough for you, huh?”

Your chest tightened at the finality in his words. “That’s not it, Felix. I just… I want to feel like I matter.”

There was another beat of silence, then the sound of a frustrated sigh. “Fine. Whatever,” he muttered before ending the call without another word.

You stood there, staring at your phone, your heart heavy with disappointment. You hadn’t expected it to go like this. You hadn’t expected him to snap at you, to treat your feelings like they were an inconvenience. It felt like the distance between you was growing, and no matter how hard you tried to reach out, he was always slipping away.

You pocketed your phone, feeling that weight settle in your chest. Jeongin, who had been watching you quietly, raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

You shook your head, trying to push the tears back. “No. I don’t know what’s going on anymore. It’s like I’m invisible.”

Jeongin stepped closer, his expression softer now. “You’re not invisible. You’re just… you’re just trying to get him to notice you. And sometimes people don’t realize what they have until it’s gone.”

You nodded slowly, swallowing hard. “I hope he realizes before it’s too late.”

seungmin

The last few weeks had been suffocating for Seungmin, and it wasn’t something he knew how to talk about. He prided himself on being calm, collected, the one who could weather any storm without letting emotions take control. But this feeling, this unbearable weight that had settled in his chest, had been eating away at him with every passing day.

You had always been important to him, but the more time you spent with Hyunjin, the more it felt like something was slipping away. It wasn’t just that you were getting close to him it was that Hyunjin was everything you seemed to want now. It started so innocently. You mentioned you were interested in learning how to paint, and naturally, Hyunjin, being the artist he was, had offered to teach you. But what had started as a casual hobby had quickly turned into something much more intimate.

You and Hyunjin had spent hours together, learning techniques, laughing at the mess you made, sharing quiet moments over your canvas. At first, Seungmin tried to brush it off. He told himself it was just a phase, just something new you were interested in. He told himself there was no reason to be jealous, that it was silly to feel left out. But as the days went by, he began to notice something else. Something deeper.

The way you looked at Hyunjin, the way you smiled when he praised your work, the way your eyes sparkled with excitement whenever you talked about your painting sessions. It cut through him like a knife. It was as if the bond you and Seungmin had shared for so long was being slowly replaced, piece by piece, with Hyunjin. The more you two connected, the less Seungmin seemed to matter. You used to tell him everything. You used to come to him with the smallest details of your day, your worries, your joys. But now? Now, it was Hyunjin you turned to. It was Hyunjin who was there when you needed someone to talk to, and it was Hyunjin who made you laugh, who gave you that look of admiration and praise.

It didn’t take long for Seungmin to start feeling like an outsider in his own life.

The worst part was that he couldn’t bring himself to express any of it to you. Every time he tried to put the words together, something stopped him. He was scared of sounding petty, of sounding possessive, of ruining what little time you had with him. He told himself that you had every right to spend time with anyone you wanted, but the pain was growing unbearable, suffocating him with every minute that passed. It felt like he was watching someone else claim the part of you that had always belonged to him.

And so, he did what he always did, he buried it. Seungmin stopped reaching out to you, stopped asking how your painting was going. He kept his distance when he saw you and Hyunjin laughing together in the corner of the room, pretending he didn’t notice how it made his chest tighten. He began avoiding eye contact, pulling away even more whenever you came near. He didn't want to admit that it was jealousy eating him alive. He didn't want to admit that he was terrified of losing you.

You, oblivious to the storm raging inside him, continued on as if nothing had changed. Every time you mentioned Hyunjin, every time you excitedly told him about the next technique Hyunjin had taught you, it was like another knife to his heart. He wanted to be happy for you. He wanted to be the one to encourage your new hobby, but it felt so hollow.

It all came to a breaking point one night, during another quiet hangout. You were sitting on the floor, Hyunjin next to you, as you both worked on your paintings. You had been so close to him, your shoulders brushing as you exchanged thoughts on color palettes. Seungmin couldn’t take it anymore. The room felt suffocating, the noise of everyone around him fading as his gaze fixated on the two of you. The jealousy, the hurt, all bubbled to the surface.

He snapped before he could stop himself. “Are you two done?” His voice was sharp, cutting through the room like a blade. You flinched, and the others looked over at him, confused.

“What?” you asked, clearly taken aback by the sudden outburst.

“You’ve been glued to him all night,” Seungmin spat, his voice filled with raw pain. “Are you even going to look at me tonight, or is it just him? You don’t seem to care about anyone else anymore.”

The words felt like they had been ripped from his chest, but the second they left his mouth, regret came crashing down on him. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t the Seungmin you knew. But it was too late. The damage was done.

Hyunjin, who had been silent up until then, stood up, his eyes narrowed in defense. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Seungmin? She’s just learning something new. What’s your problem?”

Seungmin turned to him, his fists clenched. He hated the way Hyunjin was standing up for you, but more than that, he hated the way it made him feel small. “My problem is that she’s all you care about now. You’re the one who’s always there for her. Not me.”

Seungmin couldn’t look at either of you anymore. He stormed out of the room, unable to stay in that suffocating atmosphere for another second. He couldn’t even look at you, he couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in your eyes.

You followed him, calling his name softly as you found him standing by the door, trying to control his breathing. He was shaking. His mind was racing, but it was too late to take anything back. He had said the words. He had let the jealousy get the best of him, and now he couldn’t fix it.

“Seungmin,” you said softly, but your voice sounded so far away. “What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me for days, and now this… what are you even trying to say?”

He couldn’t look at you. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “I don’t know anymore. Maybe… maybe I’m just scared that you’ll… you’ll stop needing me. That you’ll find someone else who fits better with you.”

You stepped closer, but his words seemed to have knocked the air from your lungs. You looked at him, and for the first time, Seungmin saw the hurt in your eyes. Not the confusion, but the real hurt. The realization that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the person you thought he was anymore.

"Seungmin…" you whispered, your voice broken. "You’ve been pushing me away for weeks. I didn’t know you were feeling like this. I thought we were okay."

He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “I thought if I stayed quiet, if I just… kept my distance, I wouldn’t mess this up. But I did. I know I did.”

You took another step forward, your voice trembling as you said, “You don’t have to push me away. I’m here. But if you’re not honest with me, if you keep hiding from me, I don’t know how we can fix this.”

Seungmin felt the crushing weight of his mistake pressing on his chest. Could he fix this? Could he fix the distance that had grown between you, the jealousy that had turned into bitterness? He wasn’t sure. But the silence between you two felt like it was stretching on forever, and for the first time, Seungmin felt the real fear of losing you, not just to Hyunjin, but to his own insecurities.

I.N

The soft hum of the kitchen was interrupted only by the gentle scrape of your spatula against the bowl. You had been working on this cake for hours, mixing, measuring, perfecting. It wasn’t just any cake. It was for Jisung, your close friend, the one who had always encouraged your love for baking. Ever since he’d asked you to teach him how to bake, you’d grown even closer, bonding over the shared experience of perfecting recipes and creating something sweet together. You knew how much he loved your desserts, and it felt special almost intimate in the way he appreciated your effort.

You were genuinely excited, and that excitement kept you focused as you carefully put the batter into a pan. It was a symbol of your friendship, a gesture of gratitude for his constant support. You smiled to yourself, imagining his reaction when he saw it later, the way his eyes would light up. Jisung had always been the kind of friend who made every moment feel lighthearted, and it meant the world that he would be celebrating with you today.

But as you concentrated on the final details, you noticed the change in the room. The weight of the air shifted, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Every time Jeongin passed by, there was a distinct tension that you couldn’t ignore. It was subtle at first, just a flicker of annoyance in his eyes when he walked past. A slight edge in his tone when he grabbed a drink from the fridge and mumbled, "Still working on that stupid cake?" The words weren’t harsh, but they carried an undertone of something deeper, something you couldn’t quite place.

You had always teased Jeongin about his jealousy. The way his eyes would narrow whenever you spent time with other people or how his voice would take on a playful but sharp edge when someone else had your attention. You always called him cute, told him not to worry, reassured him that he was the one who mattered most. It was always just a little game, a tease, a shared joke between the two of you. But today, there was no playfulness in his reactions. No warmth in his scowl.

The moment he asked if you wanted to go for a walk, you didn’t think much of it. Normally, you’d jump at the chance to spend time with him, especially with the weather being so nice. But today, you couldn’t. The cake was still in the oven, and there was this gnawing excitement within you that you couldn’t shake. "Not now, I’m almost done with this," you replied without hesitation. It wasn’t anything personal, it wasn’t about him it was about the cake, about Jisung’s birthday, about something you were doing for a friend.

But Jeongin’s eyes darkened in response, and his voice dropped into something dangerously quiet. "Why are you baking a cake for him? You’ve never baked one for me." There was no teasing this time, no hint of joking. His words were sharp, biting. "It seems too romantic, don’t you think? Don’t you see it?"

Your heart skipped a beat. You hadn’t realized just how deep his feelings ran, or how much he had been bottling up. You thought it was a harmless joke between you two, but this... this was different. You looked up at him, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten. His eyes were wide, hurt, and angry, all at once. It was a look you had never seen before, and it sent a wave of guilt crashing over you.

"Jeongin, it’s not like that," you tried to explain, your voice softening, but your hands were trembling now, the frosting you had just prepared, forgotten. "It’s just a cake. It’s for Jisung. I—"

"Yeah, but why him?" Jeongin interrupted, his voice growing louder, desperation creeping into it. "Why does it always have to be everyone else? You never think about me, never do something like that for me. I always tell you that I don’t mind, but I do. You never see it. You always act like I’m just some joke, like my feelings don’t matter."

You froze. Your mind raced to find the right words, but all you could hear was the pounding of your heart in your ears. The weight of his words was suffocating, and suddenly the kitchen, the cake, the warm air that had once been comforting, felt like a prison. You had never realized how much Jeongin needed you, how much he felt overlooked, overshadowed. You had never noticed how deeply his jealousy ran, how much he had been quietly aching, all the while you had thought of it as something harmless, something sweet.

"I didn’t mean to hurt you," you whispered, but the words didn’t seem to matter. Jeongin’s gaze dropped, his jaw tightening as his frustration boiled over.

"Yeah, well, maybe I’m tired of pretending I’m okay with it," he muttered under his breath. "Maybe I’m tired of always being the afterthought."

The truth of his words landed with an ache in your chest. It wasn’t just about the cake. It wasn’t even about Jisung. It was about the months, the years, of you and Jeongin existing in this delicate balance where you never saw how much he needed you, how much he craved the same kind of attention you gave to everyone else. The realization hit you with a cruel force: you had been so caught up in your own world, in your friendships, in the gestures you thought were innocent, that you had missed the small things the subtle signs that showed Jeongin was hurting.

Your head spun, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, the sharp scent of burnt cake cut through the air. You looked at the oven, horror rising in your throat as you rushed to it. The cake, your hours of work was ruined. The edges were blackened, the once-soft sponge now a charred mess.

It was gone. Everything you had worked for, every hope you’d had of giving Jisung a perfect birthday surprise, gone in an instant.

You turned to Jeongin, your face flushed with frustration, helplessness, and something darker. "Are you happy now?" you bit out, your voice sharp and full of anger you didn’t know you had. "Is this what you wanted? I’ve spent hours working on this cake, and now it’s ruined. Just like everything else."

Jeongin didn’t respond. He stood there, staring at you, a mixture of guilt and anger in his eyes. But it wasn’t enough. Not enough for you to stop. Without thinking, you stormed out of the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest as you fled to the solitude of your room.

The anger didn’t fade. The guilt didn’t ease. You had never felt so utterly disconnected from him, yet somehow, in that distance, you also realized how desperately you needed to fix what had been broken.

//

masterlist.

[kirbmey]

— stepdad!sylus x reader ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

synopsis: sylus becomes the daddy you never had.

tw: smut yaaay, stepcest, age gap, abandonment trauma, slightly inspired on ‘lolita’ and ‘the virgin suicides’, mentions of death, usage of ‘daddy’, kinda long ig, cheating, daddy issues, virginity loss, etc.

your mom marrying one of the most influential and rich man that society has ever seen was not on your life’s plans, not even the passing of your father.

as the oldest sister out of four you always had an eye on your parents relationship, having to be the one arbitraging their stupid fights and ordering them to stop bickering around when your siblings were asleep.

many would feel sorry for you when they found out about the responsibilities you had on your shoulders since such a young age, acknowledging the reason why you seemed so grown and mature; in reality it was all a facade to protect your sisters.

when you father fell ill you didn’t even flinch, and when he passed away a few months later you didn’t even cry. sure, you appreciated him but farther from the truth, he was just there.

you viewed him as a man you happened to live with, not a member of your family.

on the contrary, you looked up to your mother, being aware of the hard work she put to raise and provide to you and your sisters.

you tenderly recall the nights sitting on her vanity before going to bed as she detangled and oiled your hair, giving her advice as if she was your best friend.

the love for your mom was undeniable and you would always support every decision she’d make.

so when she invited her new boyfriend over to dinner you were as supportive as always, ordering your sisters to behave in his presence as you did their make up and advised them on their clothes.

but what you weren’t expecting when you walked downstairs was a tall and broad figure taking sit in the chair your father used to occupy, his white and lavish hair the only thing you could see from where you stood.

your siblings rushed to sit next to him, eager to form the stupidest questions ever made, as you walked towards the kitchen to help you mother with the rest of the preparations for dinner, coexisting in silence.

you weren’t blind, even as her daughter you could tell your mother was a beautiful woman. living her middle years after four pregnancies and keeping up a stunning figure and fancy features, carrying herself around as the elegant woman she always aspired to be.

⠀⠀　　“this one was unexpected, mom.” you spoke under your breath as your pulled out the plate from the oven, taking off the gloves and apron to gaze her way.

⠀⠀　　“you didn’t even speak to him yet, baby, give him a chance.” she stated, leaving the kitchen to place the utensils on the dining table.

and so you did. gave him a chance. your mom had some hookups along the passing months, nothing decent or closely acceptable.

you thought that’s what this was, a hookup. good sex that was invited to dinner a random night to then be dumped because he made the girls uneasy.

but you could tell this was not the case.

sylus was the name of the scary man sitting in front of you. the white hair you saw before put together neatly, thick eyebrows that dressed a pair of cat-like orbs, colored crimson.

you noticed as you ate the baked potatoes how his clothes were clearly too expensive for you to even think about, his perfume reaching your nostrils to the point you could almost taste it mixing with the garlic.

if your widowed mother was going to take advantage of the (you assumed) rich man you weren’t going to complain. because his money would be your mom’s, and your mom’s money would be yours.

later on you’d find out who sylus was, what was his place in the world. he’d mention companies you knew to be his, and you couldn't believe your luck.

⠀⠀　　“so, if you live in such a high end environment, how’d you two meet?” you questioned after sipping on some water, crossing your arms.

⠀⠀　　“we simply bumped into each other at one of my restaurants. your mother was the waitress and spilled some whine on my shirt.” he lightly answered with a deep voice that got stuck in your head for the rest of the day.

sylus seemed to adore your mom, and you were happy for her, really.

he started to come over your humble home more and more often, and your sisters couldn’t stop talking about him and yearn to spend time together.

‘have you seen his hands?’, ‘today his pants were tighter than usual.’, ‘his lips look so kisseable.’ blah blah blah.

they were fixated on this stupid tradition your mom started, friday movie night. the man would come home and stay the night after watching movies together as a big and happy family.

an excuse to fuck your mother, you thought. you seemingly knew it all, you knew everybody’s mind.

but as smart as you thought you were, you couldn’t acknowledge sylus’ admiration for you, the oldest sister. he’d stare at you and wonder if this yearning was even moral.

he would fixate his red eyes on you when nobody else was watching, would take in how you munched on the popcorn he prepared and how your glasses framed your perfectly structured face. the mere thought of you was chasing him around every second of the day, even when he was with your mom, his fiancée.

the imagine of your started to replace your mom’s, he started to imagine you were the one he was pounding so hard into. started to fantasize about taking you out to these fancy dinners instead of your her.

he even sneaked into your room after fucking and waiting for her to fall asleep, just to sit next to you in your bed and caress your hair with his knuckles, going down until his hand cupped your cheeks and your oh-so-desirable lips formed a pout.

it was all wrong, he knew that.

taking advantage of your innocence? he knew you were the most mature amongst your sisters, but you were very naive still. sylus loved showing you things you didn’t know about, talking of countries you never heard of and teaching you random facts about anything.

he knew how to make you desire him as much as he desired you. you both started to spend more time together in an organic way you couldn’t notice, him being more and more present in your every day life.

he started taking you and your sisters to class, you being the last one he kissed on the cheek goodbye, closer to your lips than he did to your siblings. he sat next to you every chance he got, his big palm wrapping around your thigh when nobody else was looking, arriving home with gifts for you and you only, taking you out on secret dates.

and so you did, you fell in love with him, with the way his voice pronounced your name, the warmth of his honey like skin… everything about him seemed to be divine to your eyes.

it was all wrong, but it was bearable. until it wasn’t.

until his desires started to grow bigger in his chest and his expensive pants. you’d become more confident around him and started wearing skimpier clothes inside the house, leaving little to imagination.

you didn’t do this on purpose, you raised yourself around women, and this was what you were accustomed to. you didn’t know the reason why sylus had to excuse himself mid conversation was because of the half of your ass showing outside those stupidly small shorts, and you didn’t know he rushed to the bathroom to jerk off with both hands like a horny teenager.

⠀⠀　　“sy, you okay?” you asked after knocking on the bathroom door. great, that’s the last thing he needed.

⠀⠀　　“all good, princess, i just felt a little nauseous. it’s all good.” the last sentence was said as a whisper, trying to convince himself to stop massaging his foreskin as he spoke to you and dress up and act like a decent person.

⠀⠀　　“are you sure, can i help you with anything?” you insisted with a sweet voice. fuck, that voice drive him crazy. his hand sped up, faster, harder.

he went silent for half a minute and you started to worry, knocking on the door again, pressing an ear against the wood to hear squelching and huffs on the other side.

was he…? no, he couldn’t be doing that... right?

your thighs pressed together in an attempt to ignore your clit throbbing against your cotton panties. you were getting ahead of yourself.

on the other hand, sylus was losing it. it was too much for him to hold back. the way your nipples craved through your tank top, the way you sucked on the damn spoon and licked your lips after each sip, the way you were so goddamn concerned about his wellbeing.

you were about to knock again as a curious cat would before gasping at the sudden grasp on your wrist, pulling you inside the bathroom.

sylus’ pants were undone, zipper down and boxers misplaced, trying to hide and obvious problem.

he cornered you against the tiled wall, placing both hands next to your head as he reached down, his nose caressing yours as he spoke with an almost trembling voice, trying to hold himself back, just a little bit longer.

⠀⠀　　“of course you can help, my dear. you actually caused the problem in the first place.” he whispered against your lips while pressing his knee between your closed legs, feeling warmth leaving your body and earning a low chuckle.

⠀⠀　　“sylus, what are you—” you tried to pull away as an instinct. this was wrong. you knew what he wanted, you wanted it too. but it was wrong.

he didn’t allow you to finish that pointless question, losing every bit of self control when he saw the way you looked up at him with those big eyes he loved to stare at, attacking your cherry lips effusively.

you whined against his mouth, the hands you had placed on his chest to pull him away now pulling him closer, grinding yourself against his knee.

no more self control, even if it was wrong.

he grabbed both your hips to shortly walk you both towards the bathroom counter, refusing to break the wet and nasty kiss he so desperately wanted for so long.

⠀⠀　　“gonna be a good girl and take me, doll? gonna take everything I’ve been keeping for you and only you?” he asked you while he bended you over the flat surface, steeping behind you.

⠀⠀　　“mhfm, daddy, I’ll take it all, please, please.” you started to cry. god this was twisted and plain disgusting. he knew about your daddy issues, about the longing for a fatherly figure. he should’ve felt repulsed by the nickname, his dick should’ve just go soft instantly. but it was a shock to his body, an impulse that added to the need for you, to be inside you.

he just loved hearing the new name roll out your sinful mouth.

⠀⠀　　“that’s right, princess, daddy’s gonna fuck you stupid, hmm? want that? of course you do.” he stated while adverting down, seeing how your ass swayed from side to side against his erection, your face full of tears and your nipples sensitive against the cold marble.

your hands reached out, grabbing both your asscheeks to spread them apart and give him a view of the curve of your pussy against the cottony material of your shorts, tracing the wet line with a manicured finger.

⠀⠀　　“fucking god, doll, when did you become so nasty, uh?” he was in awe, slapping the fat of your butt before tearing those damned shorts apart along with your annoying panties, tracing your bare pussy with a thumb.

you tried reaching for his erection, your cries making it impossible to answer anything. from his point of view you seemed pathetic, if he yearned you as a madman, you yearned him as a pathetic bitch in heat. sylus couldn’t believe the sweet and reserved girl he fell in love with was acting like this right before his eyes.

⠀⠀　　“shh, angel, I’ll give it to you, quit crying.” he lied, he didn’t want you to stop crying, actually. he pulled out his aching cock, pumping it a few times before pushing himself inside you way too wet cunt.

you just couldn’t hold back your moans, the squelching sound of both your arousals and the tapping of his balls against your wet skin making you feel dizzy.

blood showed up not a lot long after, an evidence of the loss of your innocence. he didn’t even think of that, didn’t even consider the possibility of you being completely untouched.

⠀⠀　　“fuck, princess, I’m corrupting you entirely, am I? daddy’s claiming you as a woman.” he said between thrust, loving how your ass jiggled against his pelvis. you could only nod and moan as a response. the connection you two were having too carnal, too raw.

it didn’t take long for him to cum white stripes inside your bloody cunt, followed up by you creaming his cock entirely, holding himself to the counter as he kept on thrusting, slower each time until he stopped.

you were fucked out, your brain mush as you tried to understand your environment and the situation, feeling both your releases drip to the tile flooring.

⠀⠀　　“daddy? sylus?” you cried out, trying to turn around to reach for your stepdad as you started to cry once more, scared of being left behind again. “please daddy, don’t leave me again, please, I’ll be good I promise.” you kept on rumbling.

⠀⠀　　“it’s okay, babydoll, I’m here. I’m here.” he reassured you, pulling out as his arms wrapped your body and brought you against his chest to hug you, his hands caressing your hair as he kissed your forehead, carrying you bridal style towards your bedroom after a little while.

he would change your clothes into new and fresh ones, clean up the mess he made while he pampered kisses all over your face, tuck you both in your bed while he caressed your long hair, staring at your angel like face while clarity hit him.

he didn’t care about the consequences he had to face in the morning. the pandora box was already open, he had a taste of you and he couldn’t let you go, not now.

sylus thought of all the ways he could escape, run away with you. he would leave your mom behind if it meant another night next to you, sleeping in his chest as you were doing now.

you were his little girl, you trusted him.

and he was going to take care of you as good daddies do.

a/n: I love daddy sylus guys u don’t understand (◞‸◟；)

— masterlist.

[sunshine-and-kookies]

UNHINGED (m)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Summary-> The corporate recession has your company grovelling for funds.

As the relegated chief operating officer, you have to bear the brunt of seeking out an enterprising and successful shareholder who can revive your company for posterity.

As a sorry state of affairs, you're compelled to enlist the CEO of Jeon Enterprise for his help. However, The question remains.

Just how much convincing are you willing to do?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Part: 1 of 2

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Pairing: Yandere Jeongguk x Female Reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Yandere

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Warnings for both parts: Power Imbalance, Blackmailing, Manipulation, inebriation, smut, fingering, groping, penetration, some nasty stuff, light choking, a few corporate jargons, jk is a dick who is smitten with oc, jk is selfish asf, threats of violence (not against OC).

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Word count: 2.1k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Disclaimer: This is a two-shot which delves into themes that may be triggering or dark in nature. It is important to note that the behaviors portrayed by Jungkook are purely fictional and do not reflect his real-life character. Reader discretion is advised. Minors are discouraged from engaging with this content. Remember, plagiarism is a serious offense.

“©© All rights reserved to @sunshine-and-kookies. No translations permitted without explicit authorization.”

°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°

"This is unbelievable", you lament, hunched over your desk.

"How did the stocks plummet so much?"

"Miss. L/N, The stock market is a gamble." Mr. Kwon offers.

"I am aware of that Mr. Kwon. But the risks we took were calculated." You massage your temples, grumbling defensively under your breath.

The predicament at hand induced mixed emotions in you. On one hand, you were anxious. Anxious for the employees who have a family to fend for, the news headlines they'll be witnessing and the confrontation you'll need to have with the stakeholders.

On the other, less dominant hand, you felt uncannily relieved.

Ever since your company, Jubilee and Co, invested in the share market with you at the helm, you've been waiting for something to go awry.

Simply, because you couldn't fathom anything remotely auspicious happening under your leadership. Not because you didn't have faith in your capabilities. No.

It was because you've gotten the short end of the stick from life so often that you've grown accustomed to it.

And now that your trepidations have borne fruit, you feel the weight being lifted off your shoulders.

Gingerly clutching the cup of coffee perched on your table, you take a sip. This was not the time to wallow in self pity.

"Mr. Kwon, prepare an excel sheet that has all the consolidated data of the company's capital. We can't afford any delays. I have to begin looking for plausible shareholders."

You could feel the soreness kicking in, as you knead the knots in your shoulder.

It was gonna be a long day.

..............................................................................................................................

You peer at your phone's self camera for the umpteenth time.

Huffing, as you rake your fingers through your hair. Everything about your outfit seemed off but scrounging for a better one would take an eternity. You were living on borrowed time as it is.

"Miss. Y/N L/N, Mr. Jeon is ready for you."

You stand upright, hands clenching the portfolio in your hand futilely, your heels scuffing across the floor of the hallway.

Navigating through the huge corridor, you spot the door of the room where the incumbent CEO sits.

Knocking lightly, you speak "Mr Jeon?"

"Come in."

His husky voice beckons.

Drawing in a shaky breath, you step into the room.

And as soon as you do, you're rendered awestruck by the cabin.

It has expansive floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a panoramic view of the bustling city below.

The golden hour sunlight streaming in through the blinds.

The walls, adorned with exquisite golden motifs, which no doubt must have cost a fortune.

Fitting for a billionaire like him, you suppose.

Right in the center of the room is a rich mahogany desk, cluttered with documents.

Perched behind the desk is Jeon Jeongguk, the formidable CEO of Jeon Enterprises. It is renowned globally as the only firm which deals with technological ergonomics. Their unparalleled success transcended borders, setting the standard worldwide.

Needless to say, Jubilee and Co was a far cry from Jeon Enterprises.

You've read enough tabloids about the cold, formidable CEO to know what might transpire.

On behalf of your company's stakeholder, you'll ask him for help. He'll eye you incredulously, disdain marring his face before he politely calls the security guard to escort this deranged woman out.

You're taking a leap of faith coming here and hoping a tech tycoon like him even spares you a glance.

You hear him take a sharp intake of breath, prompting you to look at him.

His mouth was slightly agape, eyes widened, as he stared at you from across the room.

His gaze trailed your dainty form from top to bottom, eyes darkening the more they consume you.

You shudder.

You should have taken time to look for a more flattering outfit. Or maybe your hair was dishevelled?

Clearing your throat, you politely ask him, "May I take a seat, Mr Jeon?"

Caught off guard, Mr. Jeon suddenly stands up before motioning for you to sit.

"Please do, Miss...?"

"Y/N L/N." , you supply.

"Y/N..." His dulcet voice repeats your name, as though in a trance.

There was an eerie tension in the room but you would be damned if you let it get to you and lose this golden opportunity.

"As the chief operating officer, I'm here to represent Jubilee and Co."

This was it.

This was the part where you'll be catapulted out of the building by big and buff security men--

"How may I be of assistance to Jubilee and Co. today?"

You blanch.

Out of all outcomes you were expecting would ensue your introduction, this was the most unexpected one.

You were not prepared for this, how do you broach the proposal of an alliance now?

Quickly gathering yourself, you resume.

"We are honoured you have decided to give us the time of the day, Mr Jeon."

"Don't mention." His tone, though professional, betrayed a hint of eagerness.

"From what I presume, you're here to ask for an affiliation." He continues.

"Your stakeholders want Jubilee and Co to become a subsidiary under Jeon Enterprises."

You were tongue tied.

Mr. Jeon was an astute man. You'll give him that.

"Yes, sir. That is correct."

"And why, exactly, should I invest in a company that is, for a lack of better word, in shambles? Inundated with abysmal employees", He rejoinders.

You wince. No matter how true his word were, they were acerbic.

Jubilee was like a baby to you.

You've gone through hell to make it transition from a tier 3 brand name to a decently esteemed firm. You've spent countless sleepless nights looking after it, skipped meals to tend to it's wounds.

Chagrined, you speak before your brain can process your words.

"I understand your concerns, Mr. Jeon. But Jubilee is more than just its current state. It's a testament to resilience, to the countless hours of dedication and hard work put in by its employees, including myself."

Your gaze meets his, vulnerability shining in your eyes.

"Yes, we may have faced setbacks, but we've also overcome them. I believe that adversity often presents the greatest opportunities for growth. I understand your reservations, Mr. Jeon, but I urge you to consider the untapped potential within Jubilee. With the right investments and guidance, I firmly believe that it has the potential to rise from its current situation and flourish once again."

A hush falls over the room.

Jeongguk's gaze remained unwavering, fixed on your face throughout your entire tirade.

"Consider me convinced, Miss. Y/N."

"S-Sir?"

"I guarantee. Jubilee's stock will be restored, funds will be augmented, and brand reputation will be unrivalled. The employees that will henceforth be inducted will be recruited by my personal hiring team."

You can barely hear the rest of his sentence, already thrumming with excitement. Your mind plotting all the ways you can get back at the naysayers.

The resurgence of Jubilee is inevitable, now that you have Jeongguk on board.

"But, you must understand Y/N, there are no free lunches in this world."

And just like that all your dreams come crashing down.

"Pardon, sir?"

Mr. Jeon gracefully rises from his chair, closing the proximity between the both of you as he leans on the front of the desk, positioned directly in front of you.

"I'll accede to all your demands, but I want a fair trade."

Mr. Jeon's words hang in the air. You had hoped for a smooth negotiation, where was this coming from?

"What kind of fair trade are you suggesting, Mr. Jeon?"

A knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he meets your gaze.

"I'll provide my expertise, my resources, to ensure Jubilee's revival," he begins.

"But in return, I ask for something beyond the confines of business."

There is a tacit silence enveloping the room.

The implication of his suggestion is glaringly blatant.

Situations like these were rife in the corporate world. Pleasure in exchange for business gains was not unheard of.

What was however, unheard of, was an employee of Jubilee engaging in such lewd dalliances.

While they were definitely slacking and inept when it comes to work and strategies, Jubilee has maintained a pristine image of possessing the most morally sound employees.

You are caught in a mire.

On one hand, you are disgruntled that he thought you were so shallow that you'll take him up on an offer as promiscuous as that.

But on the other hand, you are convinced this is your only shot at reviving Jubilee. Jungkook's assets and team marshalled together will undoubtedly take Jubilee to unprecedented heights.

"We have a deal, Mr. Jeon."

..............................................................................................................................

"Jeongguk, stop please! Not now, I have to get ready for a meeting."

"I don't renege on my promises, baby girl." He hums, biting your lower lip as his hands fondle your clothed chest.

"And I expect the same from you, yeah?"

The past few months have been very conducive for Jubilee.

As expected, with Jeongguk's acumen & assistance, the company is practically thriving, now in a league comparable to the unicorns.

And it had to be. You've traded yourself for its prosperity after all.

"Fuck", the expletive rolls off your tongue as a strangled moan.

His palms knead the flesh as he grinds his hips on your clothed pussy.

"You're so pretty, my baby. Got me wrapped around your little finger like a hormonal fucking teenager."

He grunts in your ear as one of his hands find purchase on your hip, the other smoothly lifting your pencil skirt to stroke your thigh.

"Kook, I c-can't"

He is terse as he pants, "Yes, you can. You will do everything I ask you to, am I clear?"

"Y-Yeah"

"Good girl" He dotes.

Unbuttoning your top and latching his tongue onto your now bare nipple.

"Stop teasing Kook, touch me already. I'm so fuckin' wet"

He grins as he resumes his ministrations on your inner thigh, cheekily peering up at you from where he is stationed, between your breasts.

"Someone's needy."

You huff exasperated, placing a hand on his as you halt him.

"Fine, I'll just ask Taehyung for help. He won't deny me anyways."

All air escapes you as you're suddenly jerked, your bare back meeting the wall with a thud.

You open your eyes at the sudden movement.

Jeongguk's laborious breath is laden with ire.

Eyes closed. Jaw clenched.

His previous playful beam, nowhere to be found.

He takes in a deep breath before opening his eyes.

They're the darkest you've ever seen them. Pupils enlarged to an extent that his eyes appear pitch black.

You fucked up.

His hand comes up as he lightly chokes you, not enough to hurt you but enough to cause a pool of wetness dripping down your thighs in its wake.

"Say shit like that one more time and see me burn that fucker alive."

"You have the fucking audacity to even think of another man, when yours is right in front of you? Don't you fucking forget who you belong to Y/N. You're fucking mine. Body, Heart and Soul. You've sworn your loyalty to me. You've surrendered yourself to me completely the day I agreed to buy that shitty company of yours."

Your panties are completely drenched at this point and you're unsure if its because you're turned on or petrified of how vexed he has become by the mere thought of you with another man, even though you had said it in jest.

Without any preamble, his fingers prod at your entrance as he sinks them in. Your walls embracing him like second skin.

"Even your tight little pussy isn't yours anymore. It belongs to Jeon Jungkook.”

He slaps your pussy immediately after, as though proving his point.

“And I don't fucking share, so you better pray to any deity you worship that I don't fucking catch you masturbating or so help me god."

He fingers you passionately. Not stopping even after you plead him to.

"T-Too sensitive, K-Kook."

Unbuckling his belt, He pulls out his penis. It stands tall, proud and red with pre cum oozing out of the tip.

You grab him for stability as he pushes the tip in, letting your walls adjust and clamp before he brutally picks up his pace.

"Tell me who you belong to." He bellows.

Too out of it, you fail to form a coherent response.

THWACK.

He slaps your ass hard.

Once. Twice. Too many times to count.

"I-I'm yours Koo, only yours." you manage to say, eager to cajole him.

"Damn right you are." He hums, seemingly placated with your answer. Picking up his pace, he spits in your mouth, meshing his tongue with yours, while his fingers play with your clit.

You feel the familiar warmth below your cervix, as you groan,

"C-Cumming"

He gently pats your hair, kissing your earlobe.

"Let go, baby."

As you ride off your high, too blissful to pay attention to your surroundings, you don't notice the way Jeongguk's gaze darkens.

............................................................................................................................

Part: 1 of 2

“©© All rights reserved to @sunshine-and-kookies. No translations permitted without explicit authorization.”

[dobbysimp]

i’m aware this is my very personal niche and you won’t care BUT

Architect James who is known for being an engineer’s absolute NIGHTMARE because all his designs are planned from the aesthetics viewpoint not the construction one

Engineer Regulus who always found comfort in maths, and who loves a challenge so fine if nobody else at the company will work for this jackass he will- oh my GOD HE’S AN ACTUAL NIGHTMARE

“you need a column there”

“what? no that ruins the whole view”

“the ceiling caving in will ruin the view”

Incredibly rich (thanks Alphard) Artist Sirius that hires James to design an art gallery for him, also makes sure to pay james to lead the entirety of the construction so Sirius won’t need to be involved

ahem regulus not knowing he’s working for his estranged brother

also james and sirius having meetings, sirius who loves anything artistic adoring James’ designs, prongsfoot friendship my beloved

finaLLY James and Regulus find middle ground on a design james likes and regulus can actually confirm wont crumble to the ground, Sirius approves it and so starts the construction phase

contractor remus working w regulus and james on site, who is missing a construction worker. enter barty that wants to have a “humble” job just to piss off his politician dad. besides it’s a good workout reggie so how bad can it be?

supportive stay at home boyfriend Evan who, like Barty has enough money to not work but unlike Barty has no desire to sweat his day away, so he just visits from time to time to drop off baked goods for the crew (yes he bakes wonderful french pastries)

sirius absolutely will randomly visit the site bc he is bored and impatient, somehow always misses regulus but does meet remus. doesn’t mention the fact he is the owner of the building they’re working on and therefore his boss

food truck cook Peter who is friends with remus and always has him let him know what new project his crew is working on so he is always there on site for lunch time

meanwhile marketing genius Mary and graphic designer Marlene working w Sirius to promote the gallery. fellow artist lily getting mixed in bc her art will be displayed in the gallery too. photographer dorcas gets involved later on

[aliyahwritings]

LOSING YOU — Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Oneshot)

Pairing: CEO!Rafe x Ex-Girlfriend!Female Reader

Summary: Years after Rafe Cameron broke your heart, he reappears as a CEO, confessing he never stopped loving you.

Content: angsty asl, hurt/no comfort, he's so hot but so miserable

Word Count: 2.5k

The city skyline blurred into streaks of gold and gray as you stared out of the towering glass windows of the Cameron Entreprises building. The hum of activity in the conference room behind you felt distant, as if you were watching a scene from a movie you had no part in. It wasn’t nerves—this was supposed to be just another meeting, another pitch. You had done this before, countless times.

And yet, the moment you stepped into this room, something felt… off.

You turned when the door opened, instinctively straightening your blazer. The energy shifted as footsteps echoed on the marble floor, authoritative and deliberate. You glanced toward the source, expecting some older executive type, but what you saw instead knocked the air from your lungs.

Rafe Cameron.

Your Rafe.

Rafe Cameron, your ex-boyfriend of five years.

The years had been good to him, infuriatingly so. His sharp jawline was now dusted with the faintest trace of stubble, and his suit—navy, immaculately tailored—clung to a broader frame than you remembered. His blonde hair was shorter, styled in a way that screamed corporate precision, but those piercing blue eyes were the same. They locked onto yours the moment he entered the room, widening slightly in surprise before softening into something more dangerous.

Nostalgia. Regret.

“YN,” he said your name like he’s never stopped saying it. “It’s been… a while.”

His words hit you like a punch to the stomach. You straightened, forcing your lips into a tight line. “Mr. Cameron,” the name felt foreign on your tongue. Cold. Detached. You prayed it would stay that way. “I wasn’t aware you’d be present today.”

He tilted his head slightly, a flicker of amusement playing across his features. “I oversee all major acquisitions. It’s my family’s company, after all.”

Of course, it was. You’d seen the name splashed across news articles and financial reports, but you’d never imagined it would lead you back to him.

“Shall we begin?” you said, desperate to leave as soon as possible.

He nodded, as he sat down. “By all means.”

His team filed in behind him, a mix of stern-faced executives and assistants armed with tablets. You forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, ignoring the way his presence loomed over the room like a storm cloud.

You clicked through your presentation, the rhythm of your words steady and precise. This pitch was your lifeline—the culmination of years of blood, sweat, and sacrifice. And yet, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the weight of his gaze. Every time you glanced his way, you found him staring, his expression inscrutable but intense, like he was trying to unravel you with his eyes.

When you finished, the room erupted into polite applause. You stepped back, clutching the edges of the table for support. The executives murmured their approval, and for a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself a sliver of pride.

“Impressive,” Rafe said, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade. The room fell silent as he stood, buttoning his jacket with a practiced ease. “You’ve built something remarkable.”

“Thank you,” you replied, keeping your tone professional.

He took a step closer, his hands sliding into his pockets. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you like this—confident, commanding. I always knew you had it in you.”

The compliment felt like a slap and a caress all at once. You stiffened. “Let’s keep this focused on the business, Mr. Cameron.”

“Business, right,” he echoed, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “Still so serious… Some things never change.”

Your chest tightened, but you refused to let him see the effect he had on you. “I’ve changed plenty, Mr. Cameron.”

“Have you?” His gaze darkened, and his voice dropped an octave, laden with something that felt like a challenge. “You still get that crease between your brows when you’re concentrating. And you still avoid eye contact when you’re nervous.”

You bristled. “I’m not nervous.”

“Of course not,” he said smoothly, leaning forward just enough to invade your space. “You’ve got this whole room eating out of your hand. You always did know how to command attention.”

Heat crept up your neck, a mix of anger and something more dangerous. “If you’re done reminiscing, we should finalize this deal.”

His smirk faltered, replaced by something raw. “You really won’t give me an inch, will you?”

“There’s nothing to give,” you said coldly. “This is business.”

The meeting concluded, and the other executives filed out, leaving just you and Rafe in the cavernous conference room. You busied yourself gathering your materials, your hands trembling as you shoved papers into your briefcase.

“You’re not even going to acknowledge it, are you?” His voice was soft but edged with frustration.

You froze but didn’t look at him. “Acknowledge what?”

“That this isn’t just any meeting,” he said, stepping closer. “That we’re not just strangers passing by.”

You turned to face him, your expression icy. “We are strangers, Rafe. That’s exactly what we are.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, the mask of the polished CEO slipped, revealing something raw and vulnerable beneath. “I don’t believe that. You don’t believe that.”

“Don’t tell me what I believe,” you snapped, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

The air between you crackled with tension. He took another step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I miss you.”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “Spare me, Rafe. You gave up that right the moment you let me walk away.”

His eyes darkened, pain flickering across his features. “I didn’t let you walk away. I let him win.”

“Semantics,” you said coldly. “The result was the same.”

He reached out as if to touch you but stopped himself, his hand hovering inches from your arm. “I didn’t know how to fight him back then—”

“That’s the thing, Rafe,” you said, your voice trembling. “I didn’t need you to fight. I needed you to choose me. But you couldn’t even do that.”

His shoulders slumped, and for a moment, he looked utterly defeated. “I thought I was doing the right thing. For you. For both of us.”

“Don’t you dare try to twist this into some selfless act,” you said, anger bubbling to the surface. “You didn’t do it for me. You did it for him. For the approval you were so desperate to have.”

Him being his father, Ward Cameron.

Rafe flinched at your words, the guilt etched deeply into his features. His mouth opened as if to protest, but no sound came. His silence only stoked your anger, years of buried pain clawing their way to the surface.

“Say something, Rafe,” you spat, your voice rising. “Anything. Defend yourself. Tell me I’m wrong.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his composure slipping further. “What do you want me to say? That I was a coward? That I let him manipulate me? Fine. I was. I did. But I thought I was protecting you.”

“Protecting me?” The laugh that escaped you was sharp, bitter. “From what? From loving you? From building a life together? Because all you protected me from, Rafe, was the future we could’ve had.”

He took a shaky breath, his blue eyes glistening. “You don’t think I remind myself that every day? That I don’t wake up and think about what I lost? About what I threw away?”

“Do you?” you challenged, stepping closer. “Do you think about how I begged you to stay? How I told you I didn’t care what your father thought, that we could make it work? Or do you only think about yourself?”

His face crumpled, and for a moment, he looked utterly broken. “I think about it all. Every single second.”

The rawness in his voice cut through your defenses, but you refused to let him see it. You couldn’t. You folded your arms tightly across your chest, trying to create a barrier between you. “Thinking about it doesn’t change anything. Regret doesn’t erase what you did.”

“I know that,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “But if I could go back—if I could do it over—I’d choose you. Every time.”

“Too bad life doesn’t work that way,” you said coldly, though your voice cracked. “You made your choice, Rafe. And you didn’t choose me.”

He closed his eyes briefly, as if trying to block out the weight of your words. When he opened them again, the vulnerability in his gaze nearly undid you. “I was scared,” he admitted. “I was scared that if I went against him, I’d lose everything.”

“So you sacrificed me instead,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you even realize what you did to me? How hard it was to pick up the pieces after you walked away?”

He took a step toward you, his hand hovering near yours but not quite touching. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I know I can’t fix what I broke. But I need you to know that I never stopped loving you.”

You blinked, stunned by the rawness of his confession. “Don’t,” you said, your voice trembling. “Don’t say that. You don’t get to say that.”

“Why not?” he demanded, his voice rising. “It’s the truth. I love you. I never stopped, and I never will.”

Tears stung your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “It doesn’t matter, Rafe. Love isn’t enough. Not anymore.”

“It could be,” he said, desperation creeping into his voice. “If you gave me another chance—”

“No,” you interrupted, shaking your head vehemently. “I can’t do this again. I can’t go back to being the girl who waits for you to put me first. I’ve moved on, Rafe. I had to.”

The words tasted like ash, dry and bitter, as if they had been burned into your soul. You couldn’t tell if they were entirely true, or if they were just a lie you had forced yourself to believe. But in that moment, they were all you had.

He looked at you, his expression shattered. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe’s hand shot out, catching the edge of your sleeve as you turned to leave. His touch was light, hesitant, as if he were afraid you might shatter.

“Please,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Don’t walk away. Not again.”

You froze, your back to him, heart pounding in your chest. For a moment, the pain in his voice was almost enough to undo you. Almost. But you knew better than to let yourself hope. Hope was dangerous. Hope had nearly destroyed you once.

“Why, Rafe?” you asked without turning around. “Why shouldn’t I? What could you possibly say to me now that would make any of this okay?”

His grip on your sleeve tightened, trembling slightly. “Because I can’t lose you again. I can’t—” His voice cracked, and he took a shaky breath. “I’ve lived every day since that moment hating myself for not fighting harder. For letting my fear control me. I see it now, all of it, and I hate who I was. But I swear, I’m not that man anymore.”

You turned slowly, your eyes meeting his. They were glassy, filled with desperation and regret so deep it made your chest ache. “You’re saying all the right things now, Rafe. But where was this version of you when I needed him? When I was begging you to choose me over your father’s approval?”

“I was weak,” he admitted, his voice raw. “I was afraid of standing up to him. I thought I’d lose everything—my family, my place in the company. But none of it mattered. None of it means anything without you.”

“You’re only saying that now because you already lost me,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended. “If I hadn’t walked away, you’d still be letting him control you. Don’t pretend this epiphany isn’t just convenient timing.”

“It’s not,” he insisted, stepping closer, his eyes pleading with yours. “Losing you was the wake-up call I needed. It forced me to see what really matters.”

Your breath hitched, the weight of his confession hitting you like a freight train. For a moment, you let yourself imagine what it might’ve been like if he had made that choice years ago—if he had chosen you when it mattered most.

But the thought was more painful than comforting.

“You should’ve done that back then, Rafe,” you said, your voice trembling. “Not now, when it’s too late. You can’t rewrite the past, and you can’t erase the damage it caused.”

“I’m not trying to rewrite it,” he said, his tone growing more desperate. “I’m trying to fix it. I know I can’t undo what I did, but I want to try. I want to spend every day proving to you that I can be the man you deserved all along.”

You shook your head, tears spilling over despite your best efforts to hold them back. “It’s not that simple. You don’t get to snap your fingers and make everything okay. I spent years trying to move on, to build a life without you. And now you want me to just forget all of that? To risk my heart again?”

“I would never hurt you again,” he said, his voice shaking with sincerity. “I swear, I’d spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“You already hurt me, Rafe,” you said, the bitterness in your voice cutting through the air like a blade. “And some wounds don’t heal. Some scars don’t fade.”

He looked at you, his face crumpling under the weight of your words. “So that’s it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. You wanted to scream, to cry, to tell him that no, you weren’t done. That you still loved him despite everything. But you couldn’t let yourself go down that road again. Not when you knew where it led.

“Yes,” you said finally, your voice breaking. “For my own sake.”

Rafe staggered back as if the words had physically struck him. He pressed a hand to his chest, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. “I don’t know how to live without you,” he admitted, his vulnerability cutting through you like a knife. “I don’t know how to let you go.”

“You’ll have to figure it out,” you said, forcing the words past the lump in your throat. “Because I’m not coming back.”

He stared at you, his blue eyes swimming with tears, and for a moment, you thought he might collapse under the weight of it all. “I’ll never stop loving you,” he said, his voice barely audible. “Even if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

You nodded, a single tear sliding down your cheek. “And I’ll never stop wishing things were different.”

As you walked out, Rafe remained in the empty room, his world crumbling. He watched you go, knowing he’d lost the only person who had ever truly mattered. And as the door closed behind you, the realization settled in his chest like a stone: he would spend the rest of his life loving you, regretting you, and mourning the life you could have had.

INFO ABOUT UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @aliyahwritings-notifs and turn on notifications!!!

[carbonfiction]

A little suprise

Summary: After another cosy Christmas morning shared together, it’s time for the gifts. Little things thoughtfully bought, wrapped and passed over. This year however, theres something else. Something you've meticulously managed to keep hidden for a little while now.

Master list. Words: 1.2k

Warnings: tw mentions of pregnancy/pregnancy announcement. (Chosen to tw this simply bc im aware of how tough it can be for those struggling with conception/fertility ect, especially this time time of year. i want you to know my heart is with you, your time will come🫶) Lumberjack Logan is a sweetheart, mostly just a nice lil finding-out-he’s-gonna-be-a-dad Logan fluff with a smiiiiige of swearing. Lo calls reader “momma”

The parasites in me yearned for origins dad Logan, so I had to write origins dad Logan. Or in other words, its Christmas and I desperately can’t stop thinking about that large man with a teeeeny tiny baby.. Tadaaaaaa <33 merry Christmas loves!

Christmas morning was always peaceful in the howlett household. It would begin with sleep laced kisses, limbs tangled together as you hold each other close. It's hours before either of you actually leave the bed, too warm and content with eachothers presence to even consider it.

But when you do the first place you go, after the bathroom of course, is to the kitchen. Logan begins breakfast- or nearer brunch by then. While you make sure the coffee machine is switched on and freshly brewing the hot liquid into your usual cups- a cheesy wedding present from a friend, mugs that read 'Mr' and 'Mrs'.

Then, once dinner is roasting slowly in the oven for later, come the gifts. All soundtracked by a movie playing in the background. Little things wrapped and passed over- for you comes a cosy pair of pajamas with matching socks that you'd pointed out a while back, along with a little hamper full of your favorite treats; a perfect mix of sweet and savory to snack on when the mood takes you; or when wrapped up tighter watching a movie.

While you gift him a fresh collection of cigars and workboots that offer a little extra comfort to those long days he spends at the yard on his feet.

But.. Theres also something else. Something you've meticulously managed to keep hidden for a little while now.

You steady yourself with an anxious exhale before you tap logan on the knee. "Theres one last one.." you say with a smile, quickly retreating to the bedroom and coming back to stand infront of him with a neatly wrapped box in hand.

Logans brow rises, a crease then wedging between them as he looks over the gift and its carefully tied bow. "Thought we agreed on a couple things each?" he murmers.

Hes right, you had agreed that, both having felt like each others company was all you really needed..

"Well, its a Surprise..” you trail, urging him to open it as nuterally as you could. Anxiety festering deep in your chest, part of you unsure just how this would go down.

Its silent as his fingers pluck and pull at the ribbon, deftly untieing it until its left in a pile besides him on the couch. Next is the lid, decorative tissue paper also following as his eyes rake over the unveiled contense.

"Sweetheart?.." logan questions in a whisper, fingers gently lifting out a pair of tiny booties and a matching flannel shirt; Both purposely mirroring items he owned. "what.. what’s all this?”

Logan feels his heart hammer in his chest, mouth going dry. are you telling him what he thinks you are?

“What’s it look like Logan?" you giggle softly, a hint of nerves in your eyes as you look down at him. You grasp an ultrasound photo and the positive test from the pocket of your sweats then, placing them in his hands over the little shirt.

You watch as his eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, crease flying away from his brows as he takes in the words written on the test; illuminated by the soft glow of the tree lights. 'Positive'

“You-" he starts, words trembling dryly from his tongue. "you’re really pregnant?”

Tears begin to sting at your waterline as he looks up, your gazes meeting as you nod, bottom lip bitten tight between your teeth. "yeah, ‘m really pregnant.. gonna be a dad lo”

Sure, you'd had conversations in the past about this situation, had both agreed kids would be something you'd like to share one day, but you never actively began trying. Never fucked for the sake of conception. It had just.. happened.

A birthday celebration mixing with a slip up in taking your birth control- an accident you weren't sure you felt guilty for at this point, not with the look clouding over logans features.

Features soon shared by the little you or him growing inside you.

You wobble forward as Logans arms engulf your waist, pulling you toward him with the enthusiasm of a child receiving a toy they'd wanted forever.

Tears begin to stream down your cheeks, landing wetly on your fingers as they find home in the soft tufts of his hair.

“I’m gonna be a dad.." he murmers incredulous and full of wonder as his forehead presses into the fabric of your shirt. You dont know if hes talking to you or himself, but its just quiet enough for you to hear it through your now hiccuped sobs.

“Are you happy?” you sniffle, still slightly unsure. He feels you pull at his hair until his gaze meets you, chin resting gently on your ribs.

“shit sweetheart, yeah" he smiles and its bright on his face as he stands to hold you properly. Logans lips press against yours, the kiss filled with unspoken emotions as the addictive taste of him hits your tongue.

He holds you tightly at the waist for a few moments and its with trembling fingers he pulls back. His head dipping to look you in the eyes, touch twice as gentle when his hands come up from your sides to gently cup your cheeks. Calloused thumbs swiping at the tears that still fall "course I'm happy, are you?"

"Yeah. Yeah Im happy" you assure, teary eyes brightening. "beyond happy even"

A grin lights logans expression as he looks down, glittering as bright as the Christmas lights surrounding you.

"You know, I was.." he starts, clearing his throat as it crackles with emotion. "God i was just thinkin what a pretty momma you’ll make but.. you already are a momma huh.." one of his hands move again, deft fingers creeping under your shirt now until his large palm sits gently against the small swell of your stomach. Your heart skipping at the feel of the cool metal of his wedding band. "growing our kid in there..”

“Well, it’s technically sill early d-“ you go to say, but he cuts you off. “Your glowing already you know that sweetheart?"

His lips find yours again, fingers still cupping your jaw as his next words press against your mouth in a soft coo. "My beautiful girl.. Our baby's gorgeous momma"

Your arms wrap around his neck, swaying gently as love drunk grins adorn both your faces. The room filled with a new kind of excitement. A memory made you know both of you will remember forever. “i Love you Logan...” you affirm, hushed.

"Love you more sweetheart, like you wouldnt believe." he honeys back softly, stroking his thumb over your belly again "Giving me the damn world here"

Its silent then for a while after, appart from the crackle of the fire. Post dinner you both rest full, wrapped up in each others arms on the couch. you lying curled onto his chest.

Your fingers alternate drawing shapes and drumming on his left pectoral, wide grins still adorning your faces as you peek over at the test, photo, boots and flannel still sitting on the coffee table.

You hum softly then, breaking the silence with a simple whisper of his name. "Logan?"

He responds just as quiet, hand still not having left its new home on your tummy. "Yeah sweet girl?"

"Once i get huge.." you start with a teasing glint making logan cock a brow as he listens. "Im reserving the right to be carried around the house.."

That makes Logan chuckle, the louder rumble shaking beneath where you lay as you too break into a fit of giggles.

He shakes his head, lips kissing your hair softly as he speaks, still deeply amused. “Whatever you want momma, whatever you want."

Is this my best work? Fuck no, fluff is my kryptonite. But Was it a sweet thought? Yeaaa..

[ohmytyong]

meet-cute

⤹ now playing: the christmas waltz by frank sinatra

PAIRING: stranger!jaehyun x female!reader

GENRE: smut (minors dni!!), strangers to lovers (?) au, fluff

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, pet names (baby), explicit sexual content; unprotected sex (!always use protection!), heavy make out, nipple play, slight hair pulling, aftercare, pretty vanilla tbh

WC: 3,4k

SYNOPSIS: you were bummed that you had to spend Christmas all alone in a foreign country after your friends left you behind. little did you you would find a charming stranger to keep you company

A/N: merry christmas to everyone celebrating! here's a little gift from me to you <3

* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

The muffled voices of people chatting around you mixed with the old christmas song playing from the bar's speakers filled the silence of your mind like a white noise. You whiffed the sweet scent of the red wine swirling inside the glass you were holding as you moved your hand from side to side, making you aware of your surroundings.

Despite it being Christmas eve, the bar was fuller than what you had expected. You would expect people to be gathered up at their homes, eating and having fun with all their loved ones, exchanging gifts and wishes and then getting wasted, laughing at the weird relative who had some more sips of alcohol than the others.

However, it turns out more people had the same fate as you. Sitting alone, in pairs, or in small groups at probably the only open bar in milan on this jolly day. You were informed about the jazz band that usually played live music here, yet you went to the place the only day of the year that they weren't there. Though it was kinda obvious they wouldn't be here today; it's Christmas eve for God's sake.

You took a sip of your wine, closing your eyes to savor the taste. You didn't know what it was, but the bartender definitely found your exact preference; sweet and strong on the tongue which leaves a slightly bitter aftertaste at the back of your throat.

As you set the glass down at the bar counter, you noticed a gust of air on your side, signaling someone else's presence. The woody masculine cologne that engulfed your nostrils made your head turn discreetly to the side, trying to take a glimpse of the man that it belonged to.

"A glass of Johnnie please, no ice," a soft baritone voice addressed the bartender and you couldn't help but fully turn your body towards the man, angling yourself in a position that showed your interest towards him yet keeping a safe distance.

The man definitely noticed your antics. You felt his fiery gaze look you up and down, taking in your full appearance. You flipped your hair, moving it all to the back which exposed your bare shoulder and upper chest. You noticed with the corner of your eye that the man drew in a sharp breath, shifting his body from side to side on the barstool. Your technique worked.

As you stretched your arm to grab your glass of wine, your heard the man clear his throat. "Now why would a beautiful lady sit alone at a jazz bar on Christmas eve?" the velvety baritone voice asked and the question was addressed to none other than you.

You finally met the man's gaze for the first time. He was gorgeous. His jet black hair was nicely styled, parted in the middle and framing his heavenly structured face, falling a bit long at the nape of his neck. His dress shirt was sitting tightly around his shoulders and chest, in contrast with the tie he was wearing which was hanging rather loosely around his neck. His sleeves were rolled up and you noticed his arm muscles flex as he brought the scotch glass to his lips, his watch glimmering under the dim lighting.

"Funny enough, I was about to ask the exact same thing," you played along, hiding your flirty smirk behind your glass of wine.

"You're looking for a beautiful lady too?" he asked, his eyes creasing as he smiled teasingly.

You chuckled at that, covering your mouth with you hand. So he had a sense of humor. "I meant a handsome man. But whatever rows your boat," you decided to play along, flirt with him too.

His eyes were piercing. He looked at you as if he were walking for miles in the dry desert and you were an oasis just a little ahead of him, like he was desperate to drink you all up. It would be lie though if you denied that you weren't looking at him the same way.

"I mean," he said between low chuckles, "there has to be a good reason why you're here. And alone," he finished, waiting for your answer.

You sighed deeply, tapping your fingers on the counter. "I was supposed to spend Christmas with my friends but they decided to be assholes and pull a prank on me. They dumped me. Told me we were going to Milan while they are in Vienna right now," you said, downing the remaining wine in your glass in one go.

The man visibly winced at what you said, as if he was physically in pain. "I'm sorry to hear that. That's so cruel, wow," he said, reaching out a confident hand to grab your hand resting on the counter, giving it an apologetic squeeze. Oh he knows what he's doing.

"What's your excuse for being here, pretty boy?" you asked playfully and he smiled. "My story isn't as sad as yours, it's actually kinda funny. My uh- my flight got canceled. I was in Milan for work and I was supposed to go home for the holidays but..." he trailed off, pressing his lips.

"Damn, i'm sorry," you said and you decided to flirt back now. Gaining dominance over his hand, you squeezed it, rubbing circles with your thumb over the back of his hand.

You noticed his eyes fixate on the spot your bodies were touching. Without realizing it, your barstool had moved closer to his and you could feel the heat of his body radiating along with the strong scent of his cologne. You hoped your perfume hadn't worn off after hours of wearing it.

"Actually," he spoke up, removing his hand from your grip, "something good came out of all this misfortune. I'm sitting at a nice cozy place with a beautiful lady to keep me company. Not that bad, isn't it? I'm Jaehyun by the way," he offered you his name, stretching his arms for a proper handshake.

It was ironic. You had already held hands without even introducing yourselves to each other. You giggled at the gesture and he smiled at your reaction, eagerly waiting for your name and your handshake with his arm still stretched towards you.

You gave him your name as you returned the handshake. The sight of the two of you must have looked somewhat awkward from a third person's point of view, but for you the interaction between you and Jaehyun had a warmth to it.

You didn't say it out loud like he did, but spending time with a lovely handsome stranger in a foreign place on Christmas eve wasn't as bad as it sounded.

You didn't realize it but you and Jaehyun had already been talking for almost two hours. Time passed by quickly, you were having a great time with him. He was weirdly charming, flirting with you in a slightly uncomfortable way despite the aura of confidence he radiated. He cracked jokes more than you expected and always found silly excuses to touch you, anywhere he could, signaling his obvious interest towards you.

It would be a lie if you said you weren't as interested in him, if more than he was. You found yourself laughing at everything he said, and you didn't mind the soft touches of his hand here and there. In fact, you craved them even more. You craved him. After two hours of talking, you weren't sure if it was the wine, the sleepiness or the pure lust you were feeling, but you couldn't bring yourself to listen to everything he said. You were lost in his eyes, his lips, his hands, his scent. You were sober enough to understand the pure attraction you had for him.

The bar was now almost empty. You saw the bartender cleaning some tables in the back, and only two groups of friends were there beside you and Jaehyun. You took this as a signal to get leaving as soon as possible.

After arguing with Jaehyun over who gets to pay for the drinks, he ultimately won over you, being kind enough to pay for all your refills of wine. You were opposed to this at first, but his kind gesture made your want grow even more, and the aching sensation between your thighs became too noticeable to ignore.

You wrapped your coat closely around your neck as you stepped outside the bar in the crisp coldness of December. You couldn't just go back to your hotel room like this. The night was still young, and you weren't ready to leave Jaehyun just yet.

"So, any plans for the rest of the night?" you asked, trying to get some information you could use in your favor.

Jaehyun shrugged, lifting his shoulders. "Not really. I mean, I'm alone here so there isn't anything else to do during this time of the night," he said, but you noticed that he wanted to say more than that.

You decided to take initiative and help him out of his shyness. "I know it's gonna sound a bit weird but," you drew in a breath, shivering from the cold and the nervousness, "would you like to come over to my hotel room for one more round of drinks? It's almost Christmas" you said looking at your watch.

Jaehyun tried to suppress a smile that was threatening to spread on his lips. You had cracked him. You knew he wanted you as much as you wanted him, and neither of you were ready to let go of each other so easily. Besides, like he said, you were all alone here. You only knew each other and there wasn't anything more fun than to spend more time with a person you grew to like. He had no excuse to refuse your offer.

With a hesitant nod, he looked into your eyes, smiling softly as he tried to study the intentions behind your question. "Sure, why not?"

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jaehyun kicked the door of you hotel room closed as he kissed you deeply, his hands resting on your back while yours were wrapped around his neck. Dropping your bag on the floor, you hurriedly took off your shoes, throwing them somewhere around the room.

Jaehyun struggled a little untying his shoelaces, but you helped him get rid of his jacket, throwing it somewhere behind him. You let your coat fall off your body, and with a quick motion your hands were back to where they were, wrapped around jh neck, pulling him close to reach his lips again.

The kiss was electric. Your entire body heated up with lust as you tasted on his lips the mixture of the different alcoholic drinks you had consumed earlier. Jaehyun slipped his tongue into your mouth, lowering his hands to the small of your back as you cupped his cheek with one hand, the other gripping the locks of his hair. In the heat of the moment, he wasted no time cupping your ass, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist.

On the short walk back to your hotel, you felt the constant need for him steadily rising and rising to the point you couldn't keep your hands to yourself anymore. It must've been hard for Jaehyun to keep his composure too, as he couldn't resist his urges anymore, kissing you in the elevator as you went up to the floor of your room.

You were both so needy for each other. Your tongues battled for dominance as Jaehyun lead you to the bed, dropping your body on the soft mattress as he towered above you, never breaking the kiss.

Your grip on his hair tightened, and he knew you wanted more. He attached his lips on your neck, pressing soft warm kissed along the sensitive area. He trailed his mouth from under your ear down to your already half-exposed chest and you mentally thanked yourself for choosing to wear a low-cut top. Soft moans escaped your lips as Jaehyun found all your favorite spots to kiss, smirking at the sounds that came out of your mouth.

His lips left your skin and you whined at the lack of his touch. He looked up into your eyes, searching for any type of consent, something that told him you needed him as badly as he needed you.

"What are we even doing?" he chuckled, running his fingers along your cheek.

You smiled at that. "i don't know,," you were honest with him. "But whatever it is, I like it. And I want it. Do you?" you asked him and he nodded quickly, resting his thumb on your lips.

"You have no idea" he said and in a second, his lips crashed with yours as he continued the battle of dominance you had previously started.

Jaehyun kept kissing you everywhere. No spot in your exposed body was left unattended by his soft lips, yet he needed more of you and you needed him in more places too. As if on cue, you arched your back to help him take off your top, followed shortly with an unclasp of your bra, the straps falling down your shoulders as he yanked it away. He immediately buried his face in your chest, sucking one nipple while teasing the other one with his fingers.

With trembling hands due to the pleasure, you loosened Jaehyun's tie, hastily unbuttoning his shirt. He sensed your struggle and detached himself from your boobs to help you get him undressed. Removing his shirt, he revealed his toned body to you, muscles flexing with every single of his movements. You didn't have enough time to fully appreciate his upper body as he dipped back in, not wanting to leave your nipples neglected.

Soft moans and whimpers left your lips as he kept on kissing you down your entire body, trailing your stomach down to your pants. Swiftly pulling the zipper, he slowly removed your pants and underwear, kissing your inner things along the way.

Your body jolted at the cold sensation of your naked core meeting the air in the room, and Jaehyun's mouth was so close to where you needed him the most that the thought alone made you even wetter.

Jaehyun took a step back to fully look at you. His pupils were dilated, eyes filled with nothing but lust and need. "Gosh you're so beautiful" he said in his low voice, a soft grunt escaping him as he unbuckled his belt, pulling down his pants and boxers revealing his own throbbing dick.

You gulped at the sight of his size, but it made you even more curious of how he would feel inside you. Jaehyun lowered himself above you, capturing your lips in a lazy passionate kiss.

"I really wanna take my time with you but I can't wait any longer. Do you think you can take me right now? No prep?" he asked you, the neediness in his eyes and voice so obvious, you could come undone any minute by now.

The truth is, you weren't sure if you could fit all of him inside you. But you needed him. you wanted him. The sooner the better. You couldn't take any more foreplay or teasing even though you'd like it. You just wanted to relase all the tension off your body.

"I can take it. I can take you," you said and you saw Jaehyun's eyes darken at your eager tone. He wasted no time, lining himself between your legs as he grabbed the base of his cock, bringing it to the opening of your folds.

"Are you sure you want this, Y/n?" Jaehyun asked you, waiting for your final answer, the one that would give me the green light to go.

You nodded. "yes, Jaehyun please. I want you right now," you pleaded and it was all that was needed for him to slowly thrust inside you, your velvety walls wrapping around his veiny length as he entered deeper and deeper until he bottomed out inside you, his hips touching yours.

A long moan was heard by both of you at the sensation of your bodies meeting in such an intimate way. "Fuck you're so warm" Jaehyun groaned and you moaned just at the sound he made, his eyes shut as he tried to fully feel you ad you took him all in.

Once you gave him the signal that he could move, he slowly lifted his hips, thrusting his dick in and out of your pussy, earning heavy breaths from you. Your arms searched for anchor at his toned back, digging your fingers in his shoulders as his thrusts grew faster and more eager, trying to get you to moan louder for him.

And it worked. As he kept on reaching spots so deep you never thought anyone could ever reach, Jaehyun kissed down your neck, groaning at the sound of your continuously louder moans, smirking on your skin when he pinched your nipped and you squealed, leaving out a high-pitched scream.

"You're so good at this Jae, you make me feel so good" you said in between moans and the nickname worked like magic for him. His breathing became heavier, burying his head on the crook of your neck as his thrusts became sloppier.

"Fuck you're such a good girl for me, I'm- fuck" Jaehyun's voice was mumbled as he spoke in the mattress, your moaning growing louder and louder.

"Please Jae I wanna cum, it's so good," you whispered, your breathing becoming sharper as he pressed a finger on your clit, rubbing it softly as he angled your hips higher to gain more access inside you. Your legs wrapped tight around his waist as his body was pressed closely on top of you. Jaehyun tried to kiss you, but the burning sensation between your legs kept you moaning inside his mouth, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as you reached closer to your climax.

"Jae I'm- I-" you tried to speak but the pleasure was too much for your brain to properly work.

Jaehyun never stopped nor changed his movements, quickly understanding what you like and what makes you a whimpering mess under him. "Come on baby, cum for me" he groaned as he kept on going, rubbing your clit slightly faster.

Your legs shook around his waist, a loud cry leaving your lips as you came around his cock. Jaehyun kept on going, riding you through your high as he chased his own. Hearing your soft moans, he came not long after you, warm liquid filling you up as your throbbing walls clenched around his length.

The two of you stayed like this for a while. Jaehyun only pulled out of you once his breathing was more steady, and you winced at the sudden emptiness you felt without his body inside you, or even on top of you.

Jaehyun layed for a few more seconds before he got up, searching for his boxers around the room. "I'm gonna get some tissues to clean you up, is that alright baby?" the pet name felt so natural coming from him. It was weird that it didn't really hit you when he said it during sex, but right now it made your stomach twitch.

Jaehyun went to the bathroom and came back holding some tissues. You moved your body towards him and let him clean you up from all the remaining liquids he had spilled on you. You found the gesture adorable, especially when you saw the concentration on his face, trying to leave absolutely no dirty spot on your body.

You thanked him for it and got up to find some clean clothes you could wear to sleep. Jaehyun was too comfortable getting under the bedsheets, laying in your bed as a sign that he would stay the night.

Fishing his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket, he read the time. It was way past midnight by now, and neither of you noticed how quickly time had passed when you had such a great time with each other.

His lips tugged into a playful smile before he spoke. "Look, it's past midnight. Merry Christmas!" he said as you climbed into bed beside him.

You laughed at his enthusiasm and sighed, turning to face him. If you were to tell yourself that you wouldn't spend Christmas with your friends this year but rather with a hot total stranger you came across at a jazz bar, you wouldn't believe it. But now, nuzzling into his chest, hearing the slow and steady beating of his heart, you were content with this turn of events.

You cupped the side of his face and his cheek rested heavy in your palm as he leaned his head to your touch. You pressed a soft peck on his lips, smiling. "Merry Christmas".

* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

TAGS: @peachjaem00 @bbyyhyuck @vdollys @positionslab @matchahyuck

@renjun-fairy @thoughtfulqueenlady @uwuheeseungie @back2jisung @xxxx-23nct

@markleefuckme @letmein2urheart

join my taglist !!

[bookwormjust]

Imagine: Azriel care during dinner with the Inner Circle

The grand dining room of the House of Wind was alive with the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional playful jab between friends. The Inner Circle had gathered for dinner, a regular occurrence that always promised good food, better company, and the kind of banter that only those bound by deep friendship and countless battles could share.

You sat next to Azriel, your mate, his presence a constant, comforting warmth beside you. The table was laden with delicious dishes, from roasted meats to vibrant salads, and the smell of freshly baked bread filled the air. Conversation flowed easily, punctuated by Cassian’s booming laughter and Mor’s exaggerated tales of her latest escapades.

As usual, you were absorbed in the lively discussions, occasionally jumping in with your own remarks or laughing at something Feyre said. What you didn’t notice, however, was the way Azriel moved with quiet precision, always making sure your plate was never empty. Whenever a dish was passed around, he would subtly serve you first, spooning just the right amount of food onto your plate without making a fuss.

Whenever your glass was even close to empty, Azriel would refill it with water, his movements smooth and efficient. His hand would often rest on your back or gently squeeze your knee under the table, as if to reassure you that he was there, that he was paying attention even when you were caught up in the conversation.

Azriel’s care was so effortless, so woven into the fabric of his actions, that it didn’t even register to you how much he was doing to ensure your comfort. It was just Azriel being Azriel—attentive, protective, and deeply in tune with your needs, even when you weren’t aware of them yourself.

At one point, Rhysand leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing at his lips as he watched Azriel refill your glass for what must have been the fourth or fifth time. “You know, Y/N, I’m starting to think Azriel’s taken it upon himself to be your personal waiter tonight.”

You blinked, looking up in confusion as the rest of the Inner Circle chuckled. “What do you mean?” you asked, glancing over at Azriel, who merely raised an eyebrow, his expression as calm as ever.

Mor grinned, leaning forward with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Oh, come on, Y/N. Haven’t you noticed? He’s been practically waiting on you hand and foot all night.”

Cassian snorted, gesturing with his fork. “He’s been serving you more than anyone else. And don’t get me started on the water refills. I’m pretty sure Az’s spent more time making sure you’re hydrated than eating his own dinner.”

Feyre nodded in agreement, a soft smile on her face. “It’s sweet, really. I mean, I get it—Azriel’s always looking out for everyone. But with you, it’s...extra.”

Your cheeks warmed slightly as you turned to Azriel, who simply shrugged, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips. “You didn’t seem to notice, so I just…did what I always do,” he said quietly, his gaze steady and filled with a gentle affection that made your heart flutter.

You felt a rush of warmth, suddenly hyper-aware of all the little things Azriel had been doing throughout the meal. The way he’d effortlessly made sure you had everything you needed, never drawing attention to himself, always so quietly attuned to you. You reached out, placing your hand over his on the table, squeezing it gently.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice soft but filled with meaning. Azriel’s fingers intertwined with yours, his thumb brushing against your skin in that familiar, comforting way.

“Always,” he replied, his voice just for you, low and intimate.

Amren, who had been silently observing with a raised eyebrow, finally spoke up. “It’s nauseatingly adorable, but honestly, if I had someone making sure I was fed and watered like that, I wouldn’t complain.”

The table erupted in laughter, and you couldn’t help but join in, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. You leaned closer to Azriel, resting your head briefly against his shoulder, and he responded by pressing a kiss to the top of your head, his shadows swirling around you like a comforting embrace.

“Guess I need to pay more attention,” you joked, glancing up at him with a playful smile. “I might’ve been missing out on the royal treatment.”

Azriel chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “You don’t have to notice. I’ll always take care of you, whether you see it or not.”

And as the night went on, filled with more laughter and playful teasing, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of love and contentment. Azriel’s quiet acts of care were just one of the many ways he showed his affection, and it made you realize, all over again, just how lucky you were to have him by your side.