#hint: the muse went :)))

[aeterna---amantes]

|| The feeling of being able to post 💙Connor💙 and not feeling guilty about it oh my fucking gods I'll only look at the bright side of this situation like thank fuck i am allowed to feel happy

HHHHIIIIIIIMMMMM 💙💙💙

[protect-namine]

wait. is neji.... a misogynist*. is overcoming THAT his character arc (plus uh childhood trauma)

*idk if misogyny is too strong of a word to use, or if it is appropriate. because it's not hatred and it's more rooted in like. fear and misguided attempts at recovering from trauma. but like. wtf was that ocean/train scene. imagine kisa going 😬 while listening to neji talk about this very specific trauma not knowing that kisa is in a unique position to very specifically retraumatize him (not that she'll do that)

[hopesprung]

would anyone like to guess which one of my muses woke up?

[instantartific]

Oh no… is Challenger all messed up bc of what happened to the actual Challenger?

It's less "Challenger is messed up due to what happened to the actual shuttle" and more "Everyone was going to be nicknamed after those shuttles anyways so it became a bit of dark irony for the second and third in line to have a similar backstory as the second and third shuttles in that fleet."

That being said, Columbia also has "scars" from a similar event that Challenger went through! It's just that his are less severe.

They both have scarring for a few reasons off the top of my head:

Due to Atlantis / NJ wanting to make these boys as lifelike as possible, parts of their body (roughly the waist up) has... a sort of flesh-substitute so to speak. They have a hard rigid skeleton internally and in some places externally to maintain their form (think their lights on their cheeks and while I forgot it in their design doodles, their neck and spine) but their outsides are soft and imitate the feel of skin.

Fun fact: they're like this because they're based off of the androids in Signalis! They also have scarring instead of shreds in their soft material because you can heal your soft material in Signalis and figured they'd have a similar concept.

The boys' power source is literally based on stars! They're technically small, incredibly compact, stars. Mere flecks of dust in comparison to the power of an actual star but they run on the same concept nonetheless. Aka, are technically nuclear powered.

Because they're nuclear powered, if their cores undergo too much stress / are not cooled properly, they can undergo a core meltdown. Aka, they explode like in canon, except it has a visual effect more akin to Nova's explosion at the end of his battle. When this happens the soft tissue they have can get torn open in a need to expel that extra energy. Their explosions are essentially like a scaled down version of Nova's overall: they get hurt more than anyone else does.

A meltdown can occur from extreme use of their abilities and pushing themselves to that point without cooling down, their cooling systems failing long enough for the heat to keep building, or actual damage to their cores. A complete meltdown can be avoided once damage has been done, however.

No civilians have gotten hurt from this as it's been contained before they fully blew all but one time. This was also out of the public eye.

So in short: the models that both Challenger and Columbia have have been through near meltdowns and have scarring due to that. Neither model got fully destroyed, thankfully, because Enterprise was able to avoid both complete meltdowns.

Those two are arguably the strongest and have come the closest to complete meltdowns as well directly because they're so strong.

[pennyellee]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔 pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: 14K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily) masterlist

summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, jk is selfish af, jk is delulu, oral (fem receiving), forced oral (m receiving) spanking, squirting, cum swallowing, creampie, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, choking, rough sex, pussy pounding, bruises, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language, oppressiveness

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

author's note: so as I said in the preview, this did not go as planned but I really enjoyed writing this to the point that I might do a part 2, perhaps 3, but we'll see about that. JK is delulu af here and the reader does not think through everything. For those who did not read preview and came upon this just now - originally what i wanted to build around was how Rachel Green from Friends was offered a job at Louis Vuitton but it was in Paris and Ross did not want her to go - that was supposed to be the whole plot (with slight changes ofc), well and somehow it went a bit darker than i intended so instead of rom-com, i'd rather listed it as dark romance and yandere. Hope you'll enjoy it! Love, always.

1996

“He said what now?!” The sentence burst out of you with a high-pitched tone, nearly causing your latte to spill all over your pristine white blouse and grey blazer. Not exactly the ideal way to kick off a new month, you mused as your friend dropped the bombshell about a certain someone.

“That you’re the future mother of his children,” said your friend, an amused smirk playing on her face. “I seriously don’t know how you can still resist him, girl.” But resist him, you did.

Jeon Jungkook was undoubtedly one of the most sought-after and sexiest heartthrobs of the decade, possessed the best face card in the industry and carried the biggest ego in all of New York City. You could vividly recall the day he strolled inside of your office with the head of your department. A cocky, playful grin plastered on his face the moment his eyes landed on you.

Right from the very beginning, you made it crystal clear to Jungkook that your relationship would be strictly professional during your collaboration on the Calvin Klein project. He was given his own collection of men’s wear, and the job to work with him fell upon you.

You knew that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you to elevate your standing within the fashion circle. Jeon Jungkook’s fame was immense, and your name would be signed on the collection too. It’s not like you are head over heels that your name would be associated specifically with Jeon Jungkook, but you understood right away that this could put you on the radar. Your boss had even hinted at the possibility of a higher position within the department.

He constantly teased you, flirted shamelessly, and crossed boundaries by touching you as if you were his girlfriend. It was wildly inappropriate, especially given that the two of you had never even gone out for a work dinner or lunch alone. There were always other people from the team, and yet he always managed to find a way to sit right next to you. But it seems Jungkook was still living in an illusion where you were his girlfriend.

Your gaze shifted to the majestic Twin Towers, standing proudly in the distance, as you let out an annoyed puff of air.

“He’s ridiculous,” you finally declared.

“Or cute,” countered your friend, opposing your viewpoint. She found this pseudo-relationship with Jungkook amusing, but a small part of her secretly wished you’d just give in and go out with him. It was quite some time since you were in a relationship, and Jeon Jungkook would definitely be a nice catch. You were not interested. Or you tried to persuade others that you aren’t.

“No, ridiculous,” you retorted again, lips pursed, and brows furrowed.

“Oh, come on, give him a chance finally!!” she exclaimed.

“Absolutely not! He’s egoistic, manipulative, a cocky little bastard with damn good hair,” you said, your tone rising as you reached your final proclamation, which had simply slipped out of your mind that way.

“See? One good thing — good hair. Marry him,” she laughed it off.

“Now you’re being ridiculous, and I’m going to be late for work.” You said while dusting your black skirt, grabbing your purse, and leaving a few bucks for the coffee. The song on the radio stopped your departure for a moment, listening to the familiar voice coming from it, you rolled your eyes.

“That’s a clear sign, Y/N. Give it a chance!” she called after you, and you couldn’t help but throw a side eye her way, though a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless.

As the day passed, you found yourself increasingly entangled in the whirlwind of meetings, fittings, and photoshoots with an ever-present Jungkook. The photoshoots, in particular, became a source of both frustration and amusement. However today, a bigger problem surfaced.

“Why’s he half-naked, Lucy?!” You hissed at your assistant. Normally, you are very kind and respectful to everyone, but Jungkook had managed to irk you the moment you stepped into your office, finding him already seated in your chair with that smirk you despised. Bringing a coffee for you, which you never drink, or donuts that you always share with the department - not eating one yourself.

Jungkook, adorned in the latest Calvin Klein designs you two had meticulously crafted together, claimed a personal touch of his persona— at least, that’s how he described it. He looked effortlessly handsome, the camera adoring him, but what grated on your nerves was that his attention was solely focused on teasing you.

“We also have shirts, why is he not wearing one?!” You continued, expressing your disagreement to what was before you. What angered you even more was that you could not stop staring at his abs.

“We shot with shirts earlier. They said the underwear and jeans will appear more artistic if his V line and abs—”

“Alright! Alright!” You stopped her in mid-sentence. You didn’t want to look that way nor you didn’t want to admit that showcasing his V-line would enhance the aesthetics of the jeans. Therefore, you took a deep breath and walked towards the refreshments, you were in need of a second cup of coffee.

You heard the photographer call for a break, but you were focused on calming yourself with a steaming cup of coffee. Despite your irritation, you couldn’t deny that he looked breath-taking in the outfits you had designed, and it infuriated you.

Suddenly, two arms were laid flat on the table’s surface, caging you in between. You could imagine his devilish grin. He did this way too often, whether it was his fingers lightly tracing your arm or tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, looking intently into your eyes until you were fighting yourself to not get lost in his Bambi eyes.

“We’re almost done for today,” he whispered seductively into your right ear, his lips almost touching it. Your breath stammered.

“And yet you did not learn a single thing about professionalism or work ethic.” You bit sarcastically, turning slowly to face him.

Jungkook’s grin only widened at your remark, and you couldn’t decide whether you were infuriated or slightly flustered by his audacity. He leaned in even closer, his breath grazing your ear as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

“Tutor me then, in bedroom — preferably” he suggested, his lips still dangerously close to the shell of your ear.

“I don’t think so. You’re beyond help,” you shot back, trying to assert control over the situation. His proximity was distracting, and you couldn’t afford to let him undermine the fact that you were in charge.

Jungkook continued to hover over you, the photographer calling for everyone to regroup for the next set of shots. You seized the opportunity to escape his magnetic pull, smoothly slipping out from between the table and his arms, deciding to escape to your humble office, seeking solace in the calmness it provided.

It wasn’t long before the shoot officially ended, and you knew damn well, that the man wouldn’t leave you alone. The door creaked open, and you turned to find Jungkook leaning against the frame, that infernal smirk still etched onto his face.

“We did a good job, why don’t we celebrate it over at my place, baby?” he complimented, but there was an undertone of something else in his voice. You overlooked his physique and leaned back in your chair, narrowing your eyes, making a clicking sound with your tongue.

“Jungkook, again, this was a professional collaboration. Nothing more,” you asserted, emphasising each word. If you did not say this sentence at least a hundred times you don’t know. He never takes it seriously; it appears as he is still trying to hammer his way into your guarded heart.

He pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered closer. “We’ll see about that,” he said, leaving you with a cryptic grin as he exited your office. The only thing you could do is sigh.

Before you went to continue working, you heard how Jungkook’s voice echoed from the hallway.

“I bet I can change your mind, sweetheart!”

You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath.

“Not a chance.”

The denim collection with Jungkook was taking shape, and the buzz surrounding the collaboration grew with each passing day. A success, your boss was much more than pleased.

This success, however, meant even more for you. You were on cloud nine, basking in the glory of your hard work and the prospect of a ground-breaking partnership. Totally, forgetting to play unreachable when it came to the clinging boy who starred in this iconic collaboration. And that must have given him a false hope, perhaps a narrative in which you were his girl.

You were sitting in your office when you hung up the telephone after speaking with the vice president of Guess that contacted you earlier last week, offering you a part in a project for their brand, in Los Angeles. A dream come true for you. Leaving this place, after years of building your career from scratch, felt overwhelming. You loved working under Klein, yet it was time for you to take it higher. Your boss did not offer you a new position, and therefore, you did not hesitate to take the job opportunity and elevate yourself in fashion ranks.

It was an offer too tempting to resist, and you found yourself diving headfirst into the project, not even looking at the door when someone stepped in without knocking.

“You may leave the reception reports on the table, Lucy,” you said once feeling a presence in your office, not raising your eyesight from your computer, writing the prompts for the project Guess wants you to lead. Your twelve days’ notice already printed out, ready to be signed by your boss. You planned to stop by his office after you would finish writing the draft and sending it to the Guess team together with the copy of your portfolio that you needed to make before you leave.

When there were no reports left on your table after a good long minute, you looked up.

“You can’t just leave.” he said, standing tall in the frame of the door, stepping inside once you finally gave him your attention. You could sense a hint of desperation and anger in his voice.

You raised your brows at him. How does he know? The mere thought of you leaving for LA, leaving him behind, was enough to make him confess the depth of his feelings.

You leaned to the leather armchair and listened to him closely.

“What are you talking about Jungkook?” His eyes betrayed a mix of anxiety and vulnerability as he blurted out his fears.

“What about us? What about everything we’ve built together?” He stepped closer to your desk, looking directly to your eyes. You were taken aback by the raw emotion in his words. The air in the room thickened.

The once-confident man now stood vulnerable before you, stripped of the bravado that had defined him. And you were utterly confused and surprised how delusional this man is.

“What are you even saying, Jungkook?” you questioned, your tone a mix of confusion and frustration.

“You can’t leave me!” He raised his voice an octave higher.

“Calm your tits. I’m a grown-up woman. I can do what I want.” You sassed back at him, tired of this made up situation-ship in his head. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“We’ve built something special, and I can’t watch it crumble because of some job offer!” He continued his rampage. You took a moment to breathe his words in, closing your eyes and counting to ten to calm yourself.

“Jungkook, I appreciate your honesty, but I can’t give you what you’re asking for.” This caught him by surprise. Instead of screaming at him, you chose to play the I’ll stay calm and professional card.

His eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of confusion and hurt clouding his features. “What do you mean?”

Choosing your words carefully, you said: “I genuinely value this project we worked on together, but it’s time for us to part our ways.” To fool him was your goal.

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words settling upon him. “Who are you lying to, Y/N?” His words shocked you.

“I’m not lying Jungkook, I’m telling you the truth to your face, as you were too stubborn to hear it before.” You stood up from your chair, moving to lean on the front of your desk, to show him he cannot get to you.

The room fell into a heavy silence as Jungkook looked deep into your eyes, searching for the truth in your words.

“So, it’s all about the career for you? You’re willing to sacrifice everything else, including us?” Your jaw clenched, but you maintained your composed façade and with flaring nostrils and clenched teeth, you spoke.

“There is no us, Jungkook. Get it into your head already!” So much for being calm. The room crackled with tension as the argument reached an impasse. Jungkook shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

“I can’t believe you’re throwing away what we have because of some job.” Your eyes widened even more and the fact he would not listen boiled your blood.

“Do I need to spell it out for you? I’m not your girlfriend! I was never your girlfriend, and I will never be your girlfriend!”

But Jungkook wasn’t ready to accept defeat. His frustration reached a boiling point too, and without warning, he grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into an intense, angry kiss. It was a clash of emotions, a tumultuous blend of passion and anger that fuelled the fiery exchange.

Your initial instinct was to resist, to push him away, but the intensity of the kiss ignited a different kind of fire within you. His lips moved fiercely against yours, gripping your ass in his hands, making you moan to his lips. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the dishevelled locks as the kiss deepened, your frustration causing to tug them. He growled from pleasure at the sensation.

It was a collision of lips and tongues, a heated exchange that spoke volumes without a single word. Once his hands disappeared under your skirt and the heat intensified, a sudden surge of clarity washed over you, breaking the intoxicating spell.

With a forceful push, you broke away from the kiss, creating a space between you and Jungkook. You locked eyes with him, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of the situation.

“I need you to leave,” you stated, your voice cutting through the lingering tension, you leaned against the desk, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment.

Jungkook, still caught in the haze of desire, tried to close the distance again, but you held up a hand, halting his advance.

“Leave!” You growled, turning your back to him. You didn’t want him to see your face anymore, because soon enough, tears would break from your eyes. You’re overwhelmed.

A loud bang of the door signalled that he finally understood and left. Breaking down with tears streaming down your cheeks you gasped for air. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to regain composure.

You’ve counted to ten again, wiping your tears. You felt taken advantage of. He went too far this time. But this was only the beginning of his tremulous and wicked plan he had for you.

You packed your purse, ready to leave your office, you just needed to grab your work portfolio that you needed to send over to Guess. But the space it always inhabited, on the conference table, was empty. And you had one lucky guess who the thief was. “Fucking bastard.”

In the days that followed, the chaos in your personal and professional life escalated. The stolen portfolio, a representation of your work, became a haunting absence. As if the life source of your hard work was cut down.

Determined to salvage what remained of your career, you began the arduous task of recreating it. But time was not on your side, and as you delved into the meticulous process, news of your termination from Calvin Klein reached you like a punch to the gut.

The phone call was impersonal, a cold voice delivering the news of your dismissal as if reading from a script. Some Jack from the HR department spoke to you, someone you have never ever seen in the building whatsoever. Your boss did not even pick up the call when you wanted to ask what made them push the decision to let you go. You certainly did not deserve this after years of working for the brand. The reasons were vague and you knew this had to source from someone powerful. In simple terms, someone snitched that you’re planning to leave.

As the reality of unemployment settled in, you clung to the remnants of optimism that lingered, but even that proved elusive.

You were hundred percent sure that he is trying to sabotage your whole life when the call from Guess, a reason you did not fight for your position at Klein’s delivered another blow.

Their decision not to collaborate with you crushed the remnants of optimism that clung to your spirit. The dream that had seemed within reach now slipped through your fingers, leaving you in a free fall of uncertainty.

They hadn’t even granted you the courtesy of waiting for your portfolio, even though it wouldn’t be what they expected. Whatever oral agreement had been in place disintegrated. So here you are — jobless.

All this left you reeling with disbelief. The career you had meticulously built, the dreams that had taken years to nurture, all unravelling at the seams. The pain was visceral, a mix of frustration, anger, and a profound sense of betrayal.

You were certain that Jeon Jungkook himself was pulling the strings behind the scenes. And you hated him for it, needed to confront him and say that shit with your chest right to his face— he can go fuck himself. Set the record straight once you’re there.

Whatever he was thinking by ruining your career will force you to do, he better fix it before you’ll sing to the media about his bunny smile and kind heart being all fake. The line had been crossed, and he would face the consequences of pushing you to the brink. Or so you thought it would go how your brain delusional thought it through.

Hence, with a heavy heart and a determination to confront the chaos head-on, you stood before the front door of his infamous penthouse. Emotions swirling within you like a tempest.

With a deep breath, you knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. The door swung open, revealing Jungkook’s bunny smile reaching his eyes.

“Well, well well, are we ready to talk like adults, pretty?” He mocked this whole situation because he knew this would end up in his favour, nonetheless.

He moved back to let you in, and you stepped into his apartment, a mixture of anger and desperation in your gaze.

“I know you took it,” you said, crossing your arms on your breasts. The heels of your black leather boots echoed in the apartment when you turned to face him.

“Took your breath away by that heated kiss, sexy, certainly. Otherwise, I did not take anything.” Jungkook scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. The tension in the room was palpable as you square your shoulders, refusing to back down. You blinked twice at his cheesiness. The tip of your tongue moved to rest on the bottom of your upper teeth, your smile spreading on your face. The chuckle came out of you so naturally, laughing at his ridiculously ridiculous behaviour.

“Don’t play dumb, I know it was all you. You malicious sabotaging petty boy—” You retorted, articulation perfectly clear while the words laced with underlying frustration and anger.

He sighed, weariness settling over him. “You think I stole your portfolio to sabotage your career? You’re giving me too much credit, love.” Here he comes.

“I said nothing about my portfolio, Jungkook.” You said playing with his name on your tongue. A tense silence hung in the air as he considered your words, clicking his tongue, clearly annoyed and you were just getting started.

“I managed to figure that out. A drink? —” He offered, shrugging her statements of like snow in summer whilst he moved to the small bar that was a part of his spacious living room.

“I don’t want a drink, Jungkook. I want it back now,” you replied, your tone cutting through the casual offer. The anger in your gaze intensified, fuelled by the frustration of dealing with his nonchalant attitude.

“Let’s talk, baby.” He gestured towards the living room, as if trying to usher you into a more comfortable setting for the impending confrontation. He knew this was just a little shower, the real storm was still far away, giving him space to prepare.

As you moved, you could not help but notice the contrast between your demeanour and his. While your arms were still crossed defensively, his posture exuded a calm confidence that irked you further.

You took a seat on the edge of the sofa, not willing to fully settle into the illusion of camaraderie. Jungkook, on the other hand, sprawled onto a nearby chair, the picture of nonchalance.

“I need that portfolio to get a job because a certain someone has to be bitchy and sabotage my whole career because his big ass ego cannot take rejection. Give it to me,” you fired off, your words sharp and accusatory. He leaned back in the chair, smirking.

“Those are very bold words, Y/N. I would prefer to think of it as a wake-up call for you, not sabotage.” Your incredulous glare only intensified.

“Are you fucking serious Jungkook? A wake up call? You’ve just jeopardised everything I’ve worked for, and you’re calling this a wake up call?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked onto yours.

“I can get you a better job.”

You scoffed. The audacity of his response fuelled the simmering anger within you.

“You can’t get a shit, so give it back to me, and I’ll be on my way,” you requested.

Jungkook’s smirk remained, an infuriating mix of arrogance and nonchalance.

“No,” he said, smiling. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration reaching a boiling point. He leaned back, seemingly unperturbed by your rising anger.

“What do you mean no?!” you shot back, your voice sharp.

“You were about to make a decision that would have consequences beyond your imagination. I had to intervene.”

“What the fuck are you on again?” Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you, the intensity of his stare almost unnerving while your voice went an octave higher. Your frustration reached its peak, and you stood up, pacing the room as you ranted. You were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself.

You needed that portfolio, it was a collection of years of a work and your best work to be specific. The lousy new version won’t get you a job at no high-profile fashion brand and you cannot afford to go lower than your last position.

“Alright—” You said defeated, turning yourself to face him again, you put off your black leather jacket and fixed your low ponytail, slumping back to his sofa. Spreading your arms on the backrest and cross your legs.

Jungkook took a moment to breathe in the sight before him; he was throbbing for you.

“—what do you want?” you asked. He leaned back further into the chair, putting his masculine tattooed arms to rest on the back of his head, showing his abs from under the white tank top he is wearing.

“What do I want?” he mused, as if contemplating the question but he already knew.

“Spill it out.” You barked and he chuckled at your eagerness. He got up from his seat and dangerously slowly walked towards you.

When he reached you, both of his arms pressed to the leather of the sofa inches from you, caging your body. Your breath stammered as you looked at him towering over you, the golden chain around his neck hanging.

“Firstly, I want you to be my good girl, apologise for being a brat the other day and admit there is an “us”. Secondly—” he whispered seductively, closing the approximate distance while doing so. He was right in your face, looking over at your lips evidently, he was controlling himself to not attack them. He invaded your personal space. The sudden shift in atmosphere left you breathless, and you could feel the heat radiating between you.

You squared your shoulders, refusing to succumb to the intoxicating energy he exuded. “I won’t apologise for any shit, now secondly?” You said while trying to hold your horses. You hate to admit your pussy was clenching and leaking under his gaze. He was attractive, and no one could deny that.

His fingers grazed your cheek gently, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain a semblance of composure.

“I want these feisty little plump lips wrapped around my thick cock—” you pushed him away from you once you heard his words. Grabbing your jacket and storming your way out to the door, angry with yourself that you let it go this far.

“You walk out that door, and you’re done in this city, fuck even the whole continent if I want,” Jungkook declared, his tone heavy with a sense of entitlement. The words hung in the air, a threat laced with possessiveness that sent a chill down your spine.

“You’re bluffing.” His eyes darkened, a storm brewing in their depths.

“You’re underestimating the consequences, Y/N. I’ll snap my fingers, and you won’t get a job. Anywhere.” A bitter laugh escaped your lips. You did not believe him one bit, determined to try harder at the job hunting.

“You’ve already done enough. You can’t do worse.” You scoffed, the absurdity of his demands pushing you further away. He stepped closer, the air thick with tension.

“You’re not leaving, Y/N. Either you’ll be my good girl and apologise, or all it will take is one phone call.” As you reached for the doorknob, he grabbed your arm with a force that bordered on aggression.

“I am my own woman, Jungkook.” Your eyes flashed with determination as you wrenched your arm free, emphasising every word of the sentence you just uttered.

With that, you swung the door open and stormed out, leaving Jungkook’s apartment and the tumultuous mess behind. The city lights greeted you outside, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere within.

Your telephone remained eerily silent, devoid of the calls and opportunities that once filled it with promise. Jungkook’s vindictiveness had effectively severed the threads connecting you to your professional life, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainties.

A tear escaped your eye as you clutched the piece of paper you fetched out of your mailbox — an eviction notice. You had fallen behind on rent, pleading with your landlord for more time, promising to pay in full for two months once you secured a job. But that ended up not happening, and that’s how you find yourself sitting in a messy apartment full of half packed boxes, no job, little money left, and a bottle of cheap wine.

Moving in with friends or seeking refuge with your parents was not an option. They never supported your dreams enough to provide for you in such dire circumstances, especially at your age. Unmarried, jobless, and on the brink of homelessness, you felt trapped.

Despite your efforts to secure another job, including poorly recreating parts of your portfolio, rejections piled up, and the search for a new apartment proved equally futile. Not like you could afford it anyway.

The city that once held promise now felt like a maze of closed doors and dead ends. The mere thought of dialling his number sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of pride and necessity wrestling within you.

You drank the last of your wine, hiccupped, and cried. With only twenty-four hours to vacate your flat for the new tenant to come in. The friends you once thought you could rely on were facing their own struggles, unable to provide the sanctuary you so desperately needed. You had nowhere to go apart to his clutches if you of course did not want to freeze to death in the bustling city. It confused you how it came to having no other option.

Taking a deep breath, you dialled his number, each ring echoing the surrender of your independence. The telephone rang in your trembling hand. As the call connected, a heavy silence hung in the air and you desperately tried to calm your breathing.

“Jeon speaking,” his voice crackled through the phone. You were shaking in cold sweat, your eyes blood red from crying and alcohol clouded your mind enough to call him.

“Hello?” you heard his voice speak again, and another sob left your lips. The lump in your throat made it difficult to speak, but you pushed through the discomfort.

“I-I’m sorry.” The man on the other line smirked, seemingly thrilled to hear your voice. The next sentence you uttered, however, was even sweeter music to his ears.

“I need you.”

You heard his car park in front of your building the next morning. The boxes were long gone on their way to the heart of Manhattan where Jungkook’s penthouse awaited. It was only you and your suitcase with only necessities packed inside. The reality of the situation hit you as you looked around at the empty apartment. The purple walls, once full of pictures from trips with your friends, were now bare. The fridge stripped of silly magnets you liked to collect, stood empty. Nothing left.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped the handle of your suitcase with a sense of resignation. You glanced out of the window on your way out, finding Jungkook casually leaning against his shiny black Jaguar, smiling directly at you. Closing your eyes, you mentally said goodbye to your small apartment.

Your hair, lazily put into a hair clip when you woke up, had a few stray strands escaping, framing your face that still showed signs of swelling from crying all night.

As you stepped out into the hallway, the door closing behind you, the weight of the suitcase in your hand served as a physical reminder of the choice you had made. Is this really your only option?

The sound of Jungkook’s footsteps echoed in the corridor, approaching closer with each passing second. He ran up the stairs just as you were locking the door. His gummy smile met your gaze, a clear expression of his happiness. The heartthrob had finally gotten you where he wanted you all along.

He was dressed in a denim jacket and jeans from the collection you worked on. As if he was intent on reminding you of something. His long curly locks were gone, replaced by a short mullet.

You, on the other hand, did not feel to dress classy and elegant as you usually did. You swapped heels for a pair of white sneakers, a tight designer skirt for simple blue boyfriend jeans and your upper body was covered by a white shirt layered with a pink shirt you loosely tight on your waist, leaving the buttons half open.

“Baby?” he called out. You must’ve zoned out, as now he was holding your suitcase in his hand, ready to leave.

“M’sorry, I was in my head,” you apologised. You didn’t want to upset him by negatively reacting to the pet name even though you irked to tell him you’re not his baby.

He smiled softly, putting the suitcase down, walking over to you. He caressed your cheek, leaning in for a kiss. Turning your face, he landed his lips on your other cheek. The man chuckled and put the freed strands of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t worry. I got you now.”

The drive to Jungkook’s penthouse was filled with an uncomfortable silence as the city lights passed by in a dizzying display.

“Welcome home!” The words hung in the air, the irony not lost on you. This was far from a home; it was a gilded cage you succumbed to. You did not answer him. You couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

He was saying something about a closet, but your mind totally spaced out looking at the boxes that you packed hours prior, casually sitting in his living room.

“Baby?” You looked at him, eyes wide when you realised you were not listening to him again.

“Do you want to start unpacking or should we head out for brunch first?” He approached you. Jungkook did not stop smiling since he pulled his car in front of your building.

Unpacking felt like an acceptance of this new reality, while brunch felt like an attempt to hold onto some semblance of normalcy.

“I... I think we should talk,” you finally managed to say, your voice carrying the uncertainty that lingered within. Jungkook’s smile wavered for a moment, but he quickly masked it.

You couldn’t ignore the fact that your life had taken a sharp turn, and the unfamiliar surroundings only intensified the sense of displacement. Jungkook threw himself at his sofa just where you were sitting months prior. He motioned with his hand, silently ordering you to sit.

“I promise not to bother you long. I just need you to get me off the blacklist so I can get a job. I can’t be tied to you indefinitely.” You spoke softly, careful to not anger him just yet. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate the direction this conversation was heading, but you needed to set the record straight. This was temporary, at least in your mind.

Jungkook’s expression shifted, a subtle tension in his features. He sighed. Leaning forward, Jungkook grabbed the remote control of the HiFi that was standing proud, setting it on, and whence the soft tones of Isaak’s “Wicked Game” resonated the penthouse, you could not help but raise an eyebrow.

He petted his knee, a silent invitation. You were not stupid to not understand what he wants, yet you opted to sit next to him instead of where he wanted you.

“Maybe we got lost in translation, love.” He spoke leaning closer to you. The music seemed to underscore the unspoken tension in the room.

“You won’t leave me, baby. I’ll keep you so satisfied and happy; you won’t even want to go.” He whispered to your ear. The atmosphere became charged with a palpable desire. His proximity sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of temptation and resistance.

“You can’t keep me here against my will, Jungkook,” you asserted, maintaining a thin thread of defiance. Yet, the allure of his touch lingered in the air, clouding your better judgement.

“Try me, love. I’ve got ways to make you stay,” he countered, his tone dripping with confidence.

It took all you have in you to stand up and storm to the large windows that provided a magnificent view of Manhattan. This time, however, he was right behind you.

You heard him growl. He was angry, and he proved so once you found yourself pinned to the large window, your back facing him. He attacked your neck right away, bruising every single inch. His hand roamed over your breast, squeezing them to the point you had to moan. The situation escalated rather quickly, your resistance made him press you to his back even harder.

“I’m so tired of your running,” he groaned into your neck. You put your hands on the glass trying to push yourself away and give yourself space to free from his grasp, but he has put a majority of his weight on you. You can feel his growing pulsating bulge on your heart-shaped bottom.

“Maybe I should show you, who you belong to, princess.” He cupped your sex through your pants, and you whimpered from the sensation. You knew this was utterly wrong; you should not react to his touch this way, but you couldn’t help to notice the wetness pooling in between your legs once he continues to attack your neck with his soft plump lips.

“Jungkook-” You tried to resist, but his hand was already done with unbuttoning your jeans, sliding right down to your core. Your panties were sticky, your head was spinning, and the part of a window was getting foggy right next to your mouth from your hot breath.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He pulled his hand out of your pants for a second to wet his fingers and put them right back on the little bud that was waiting to be touched. He pressed his fingertips on your clit, circling it painfully slow. The heartthrob rutted his hips into your ass, looking for a friction, making you move your hips towards his hand. He chuckled to your ear.

“If you want that job, baby, why don’t you deserve it first?” you could sense a little hint of mockery in his voice. The pulsating beats of the music seemed to echo the rhythm of his movements. Now slow and calculated.

As the song reached its crescendo, his finger entered your vibrating heat. “Hm?” He pried, his finger moving in and out in punishingly slow, drawing silent moans from you when he brushed up the right spot.

“W-what do you want?” You stammered out of yourself.

“You. All of you of course.” Jungkook replied in a heartbeat. Your heart raced and your head was clouded by the pleasure he was providing. Moving his finger slightly faster, you found yourself bowing forward, your body wanted him to reach deeper.

“Please—” you whimpered when he slowed down the tempo again.

“Give me an answer baby, will you be my good girl?” Now it was your mind that raced, grappling with the implications of his question while squeezing your walls around his finger.

“Maybe you need a little more convincing, hm?” He softly bit your earlobe whilst inserting his second finger into your heat, making you moan louder than before. You pressed your forehead onto the glass and looked down at his hand in between your legs. The sight made your pussy clench even harder. A small tear escaped your eye, you are overwhelmed, and the pleasure is clouding your sound judgement.

“What will it be, baby?” His fingers finally raised the tempo, and your eyesight was getting blurry, biting your lip from the sensation.

“Fuck—” you nibbed at your bottom lip a bit harder, trying to fight with yourself. But you couldn’t. He was playing a game, and he was winning this round.

“Yes!” you screamed louder than you intended when he hit the sweet spot, making you see stars. You did not necessarily want to agree. It was more of a reaction to how good his fingers feel inside of you. But Jungkook’s interpretation did not align with yours.

What you did not expect is the sudden feel of emptiness once his fingers abdicated its place. You protested with an unpleasant whine of frustration.

He spun you to face him, being quick enough to grab you below your ass, illocutionary forcing you to jump up. Jungkook leaned in to kiss you while he navigated the apartment blindly, right to the master bedroom.

Now you were feeling thrown. Literally. Your body bounced a little while Jungkook stood at the foot of his king sized bed adorned in black sheets. You could smell his expensive cologne on them. He was very eager to continue what you started.

His shirt was long gone and so were his pants when he was pulling down yours, alongside with your through-and-through wet panties. He very quickly inhabited his head in between your legs. Licking all the dirty juice your pussy was producing.

You could not help but to bury your fingers into his hair, slightly tugging on it once he decided to abuse your clit, sucking on it, his piercing cold against your skin. You were starting to feel the knot inside your lower belly, moaning and panting out loud.

“I’m gonna!—” you breathed out heavily. Squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the heat rushing your body.

“Not yet,” said the heartthrob, parting away from you. You shot your eyes open to look at him towering over you, his briefs thrown away somewhere in the room, and his pride leaning proudly against his abdomen, angry and red. The perfect opposite of soft. You gulped down. He was definitely not lying when he suggested he is thick.

The heartthrob helped you get rid of the rest of your clothes, bending down to lay a single kiss right above your clit, maintaining eye contact with you all the time. Sticking his tongue out yet again, making a straight wet line up your belly, ending at the valley between your breasts.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned, squeezing your tits while pumping his dick, he could not take it anymore.

He spread your legs further, making space for him to fit right in. Your walls are trembling from excitement, especially when he presses the length of his cock to your lips, coating himself in your juices.

“Condo—” you went to say when his lips silenced you in a hard passionate kiss. He moaned to your mouth, pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance, stretching you open. You pressed your hands to his chest, parting away from him. He looked at you with confusion and you repeated yourself.

“Condom, Guk,” you said, using the nickname in an attempt to soften his hard features. Something told you that you might have just pissed him off. The heartthrob sighed and involuntarily got up, walking all the way to the bathroom, giving you a million-dollar view of his ass. Your gaze then shifted to his muscular shoulders, involuntarily admiring his impressive physique. You couldn’t deny he was hot as hell.

Your nipples were perky from the thrill that your body was going through. It was quite some time since the last you got laid. Maybe that’s why it took him minimum effort to turn you into a whiny, needy little bitch.

You heard the light switch going off in the bathroom, and the man himself appearing in the doorframe with the little shiny square in his hands. Tearing it open, he returned to sit on his knees on the bed while sliding the condom on.

He grabbed your legs under your knees with one swift movement, sliding you closer to him. One hand aiming his cock to your entrance the other finding its place on your throat, holding it with the right pressure to elevate your pleasure. Pushing all the way through, you whimpered loudly at the intrusion. He was big, and you felt like you’re going to explode. The heat rushed through you like a momentary fever.

The heartthrob could not wait for you to adjust to his size, and he started to snap his hips into you in a punishing tempo, making your body bounce up at every thrust and clench your eyes shut tightly. Loud moans coming out of you.

“You take me so well, baby.” He whispered into your ear seductively, panting and groaning from the pleasure. He was on cloud nine, finally having the woman he longed for quite some time.

“Got me waiting for this pussy almost the whole damn year.” You met his hungry gaze, your moaning synchronised with his. He crushed his lips to yours one more time before thrusting his cock in and out of your heat faster and deeper.

You bit down on his lip, him groaning at the sensation, slapping your ass in the heat of the moment.

“This pussy was fucking designed for me.” He claimed you.

He was hitting all the right places, making you squeeze your eyes shut again. He upheld his promise to fuck you good. You can regret this after, now it’s not the time.

“M’wanna pound this pretty ass too.” He pulled out of you, turning you to lay on your belly, slapping the already reddened skin before setting you on all fours, ass up. He did not hesitate to rut inside of you again, feeling him all the way in your stomach, you screamed his name.

“Jungkook!” his thrusts set a brutal pace that you were not sure if you’ll survive. Their moans continued to echo in the room.

“You belong to me.” He growled, pounding your pussy, the sound of skin slapping was audible ten times louder than usual. The knot in your lower belly appeared again, got you moaning uncontrollably.

Jungkook sensed that your climax was near and went to rub your clit with the desire to make you cum all over him while getting himself off with you.

“Guk—” you choked on your words, your legs and hands were trembling, tears springing out of your eyes. You desperately needed to cum.

“I know, baby.” He kissed the arch of your back, making his hand and hips move even faster, hitting your cervix. If this is heaven, you don’t want to leave.

“I-I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” You shouted, feeling the knot untying itself rather quickly. Jungkook growled right to your ear. He was close too, dangerously close.

“Baby!” He whimpered, feeling the tension rising.

Your juice splashed the sheets as you squirted all over his cock, crying, the orgasm hitting you way too hard. Jungkook’s hips did not stop while he chased his own release, complimenting you, your body, and how you are such a good girl while doing so. With a loud moan and one last deep thrust, he came in you, holding you still while he emptied himself. The warmth of his release felt too authentic, but you were too fucked out to notice.

As you were also too fucked out to notice the empty abandoned condom laying on the ground.

“I love you so much baby—”

It was getting dark outside when you woke up, your head pounding as you looked over your naked body and evident ache in between your legs. The sheer curtains that are covering the floor to ceiling windows, once airy and light, now filter the early evening light into a soft, diffused glow, creating a cosy atmosphere. You cuddled the soft sheets that were wrapped around your lower body, thinking that you could sleep some more.

But when you heard the muted notes of En Vogue’s Whatta Man blasting somewhere in the penthouse, any hopes of serenity were shattered. A curse slipped through your lips as the reality of your surroundings hit you.

“Fuck,” you muttered through your teeth, the small fists pounding against the bed. To muffle the scream of mixed emotions, you seized a leopard-patterned pillow, pressing it against your face.

You had willingly let this happen, all for the pursuit of a damn book and damn fucking job and your damn fucking career. But why was it so precious, you might ask? Your portfolio wasn’t just a collection of pages bound together; it was a culmination of dreams, aspirations, and relentless hard work. Each design you made over the years, a carefully curated piece of your artistic vision, held a piece of your soul.

The portfolio was your identity as a designer, a visual storyteller who poured emotions, creativity, and skill into each piece of clothing. It was something you presented yourself with, and you believed it held the power to open doors. It got you your first adult job after you spent two years in the big apple on your own, dreaming big while washing dishes behind the counter.

And it got you the second job of your early fashion career, a higher position than sales assistant, the head designer at the men’s wear division at Calvin Klein. You were aiming to become the head of the department when a better offer came your way, from Guess.

The project they offered you to be a part of was a kind of interview to get through and sit as the executive director of the women’s department. You were thrilled to accept as you always wanted to design for your gender.

And he fucked it up. So, you have to excuse yourself by letting your guard down, giving him a chance to sway you. You are doing this for you and your career.

You sat on the bed, eyeing the modern bedroom that screamed his name as did the smell of the room. Just like you remembered before you blacked out from all the pleasure he forced upon you.

Sighing, you moved your sore naked body to the edge of the bed. A black leather armchair caught your eye, a clean set of underwear laid out on it, burning under your gaze. You gulped down. This was your mess after all. You let him come too close—extremely close, judging by the recurring ache between your legs.

“Fuck it, it’s fine.” You’d manage somehow, or at least, that’s how you decided to play along with his nonsensical fantasy and possessive behaviour.

You tiptoed down the penthouse, searching for the devil. You knew you were going the right way when the music grew louder. Peeking from the narrow hallway into the living room, he was nowhere in sight. Only the RCA telly with MTV on indicated that he must’ve been there.

The sizzling sound of something cooking and a pleasant aroma hit your ears and nose. He was in the kitchen, cooking. Jeon Jungkook was in the kitchen, cooking. A certain degree of domesticity welcomed you as you stepped into the all-blue kitchen. His kitchen was way nicer than yours, you noted. Large cabinets, the island full of food ingredients he was preparing. Your gaze lingered as your eyes traced his masculine, naked back, tattoos shouting at you. Your knees felt weak at the sight, your body reacting to him as if he were the alpha wolf.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip. He was swaying his hips to the rhythm of the song. Even from this point of view, you could tell he is in a very good mood. It seemed like he was glowing.

You leaned against the arch, contemplating whether to make your presence known or observe from the shadows. Before you could decide, he turned around, planning to cut the vegetables, his eyes locking onto yours immediately. Bunny smile plastered on his face, reaching his ears — a juxtaposition to how anxious you looked in his big shirt.

Quickly circling the kitchen island, he reached you in a matter of seconds. The heartthrob was beaming with happiness seeing you in his kitchen, in his shirt, barefoot, face raw, and all his. At least, that was his perspective after he finally got you where he wanted you.

“Baby!” He squeaked happily, pulling you by your wrists. The movement causes your petite frame to collide with his naked torso. Jungkook did not let you speak even if you wanted to, instead he pulled you even closer, pressing his lips to yours. You yelped, surprised by the unexpected collision. The vulnerability you felt in his presence only heightened as he claimed you, his happiness seemingly derived from having you exactly where he wanted—vulnerable and dependent on him.

The kiss lingered for a moment, and as Jungkook pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours again, gleaming with an unspoken mischief you could not decipher. He seemed to revel in the flustered state he had induced, and a cocky grin played on his lips.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered, his warm breath grazing your ear as he finally released your wrists, pecking your lips softly again. The shirt you wore clung to your form.

“It’s almost five pm.” You muttered back after you gave the digital clock on the stove a glance. He laughed it off, not replying.

“How do you like your steak?” he asked, his tone casual as if the passionate kiss hadn’t just occurred.

“M-medium rare,” you stammered, still processing the sudden turn of events. He chuckled, the sound resonating in the cosy kitchen as he came back to the stove to resume cooking, what you assumed is your dinner. Your stomach growled loudly when the delicious smell hit your nostrils, loudly. Jungkook even looked your way, encouraging you to take whatever you wanted from the fridge that was next to him, until dinner was ready.

You looked at the silver double-door fridge, and suddenly, your hunger vanished. Those were your magnets that were on your fridge just hours prior. He went through your boxes and unpacked them. The world was spinning, and your stomach was dangerously twisting.

He noticed the change in your expression, the playfulness in his eyes fading as he followed your gaze to the fridge.

“Something wrong, baby?” he inquired. You swallowed hard, attempting to mask the unease that threatened to bubble to the surface.

“No, nothing,” you replied, forcing a tight smile. His attention returned to the stove, the sizzling sounds and savoury aroma filling the kitchen. The clock on the stove continued its indifferent march towards evening. But your mind stopped.

“I-I think—” you stammered, it was hard for you to speak when there was an evident lump in your throat that wanted to emerge to the surface.

“Baby?” he raised a brow at you, letting everything he was doing to approach you again. You gulped down, trying to breathe it out.

“I think... I need—,” you tried, the words escaping in a breathy whisper. Jungkook’s expression shifted from curiosity to concern as he stepped closer. That got you even more anxious and a quick escape was a way you opted.

Your legs carried you back to the room where you knew a bathroom would be near. You heard him calling your name, but he did not run to get you. He must have thought that you’re trying to run again, but when he saw you going the way the master bedroom is, he did not push it.

You slumped right to your knees, emptying your already empty stomach into the toilet. Tears stringed from your eyes. Before you could calm or clean yourself the door creaked open, and Jungkook’s concerned voice seeped into the bathroom.

“Oh my god! Are you okay baby?” He hovered in the doorway, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. You didn’t have the strength to respond, only offering a weak nod as you continued to empty the contents of your stomach.

His footsteps approached, and you could feel him kneeling beside you, one hand tentatively rubbing your back.

“Easy, baby. Easy,” he murmured softly.

After a moment, the nausea subsided, and you leaned back against the cool porcelain, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Jungkook remained by your side, a true concern readable in his eyes.

As you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but notice the familiar objects around the bathroom. Toothbrush, hairbrush, all your makeup and even your pyjamas, had found a place alongside Jungkook’s in the bathroom. He was blurring the lines between your lives.

Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you winced at the sight of prominent hickeys and bite marks adorning your neck. You caught Jungkook’s worrying gaze but did not pay attention to it longer than you needed to.

“When was the last time you ate properly, baby?” he asked, caressing the small of your back, kissing the top of your head. You touched the tender skin on your neck, a mix of shame and regret settling in the pit of your stomach.

You knew very well that this wasn’t a doing of the lack of nutrition within your body but it did stop you to think for a second. When was the last time you had a proper meal and not a cheap ramen noodles from a convenience store near your building? You did not recall, so you rather opted to shrug your shoulders and reach for your toothbrush that could have melted under your gaze at this point.

“Why don’t you freshen up, and I’m going to finish dinner.” He sighed and kissed your temple. You’ve let him. He has done worse. As he left the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being exposed—physically, emotionally, and now even in your most private spaces. Your eyes lingered back on the assortment of makeup and personal items neatly arranged beside his.

Brushing your teeth never felt so foreign and unnatural. Your eyes darted around his room after you finished, and that’s when you noticed what you did not when you woke up —a closet, half-filled with your clothes. Neatly folded, hanged right beside his. Even your jewellery was sorted by the type of metal. Your shoes, your skirts, dresses, everything. He had seamlessly integrated your wardrobe into his, as if signalling an intention far beyond a temporary stay.

Then all your pictures scattered on the walls as you walked down the corridor back to the heartthrob who swayed you here. Feeling the unease building in your stomach again.

Jungkook stood by the table, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched you approach. His eyes flickered with a mixture of amusement and possession. This all seemed like a stage for a performance you hadn’t signed up for.

The steak, perfectly cooked to your liking, accompanied by a side of vegetables. The spread looked delectable, and your stomach rumbled again, reminding you that you hadn’t had a proper meal in days. The scent of the meal teased your senses.

As you picked at your food, a question lingered in the back of your mind—how had it come to this? Have you really had no choice but him? Was this worth the trouble? Perhaps.

Your parents would think of you as a failure if you returned home. and your pride did not allow you to pick up your old job and be a girl for everything. You worked in the fashion industry and you were willing to do anything to maintain it.

“Are you listening to me, baby?” Jungkook broke the stream of your consciousness, his voice soft yet insistent. You hummed in response but your ears could not pick precise words that left his mouth.

“There’s Grammys next week, do you have any design for the red carpet so we could match—”

“What about the job?” You interrupted him, setting your fork down, staring at him viciously.

“So the Grammys—” he tried to continue without replying to you but you were having none of it.

“So the job, Jungkook.” You said through clenched teeth one more time. You weren’t about to let him sidestep the conversation about your career.

He sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching with a momentary annoyance. The room crackled with tension, the unspoken power dynamics unravelling before you.

“You’ve been a very good girl so far—” he lifted the handkerchief he had on his lap and placed it on top of the table next to his glass of red wine.

“Why do you have to misbehave now.” His attempt to redirect the conversation towards your behaviour only fuelled your frustration.

“I’m not misbehaving, Jungkook,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unyielding. “I need to know about the job. I need to know that you’re actually doing something concrete to help me, not just playing puppeteer with my life.”

“There’s an opening at Givenchy, and Prada or Dior but—” your eyes were full of false hope.

“—until I can be sure you won’t leave me the second you get the new job. You won’t go to any interview.” He leaned back, a predatory gleam in his eyes, as if enjoying the power play.

Your mind raced, torn between ambition and self-respect. You had worked tirelessly to establish yourself, and the taste of success was within reach. Yet, the cost demanded by Jungkook was steep—an indefinite surrender of your autonomy.

“That’s not what we agreed upon—” You whined out, anxiety clutching your insights in tight grip.

“Oh but we did baby.” He answered swiftly, smiling sweetly.

“I—” you wanted to protest, but he was quick to dismiss any argument you wanted to come up with.

“I said I want you, and you agreed, baby. You can’t take it back.”

“What does that even mean?!” You whined out.

“That I won’t let you slip through my fingers again. You belong here with me, and you better learn your place or prepare for a farewell with the magnificent fashion world of yours.” The ultimatum echoed in your mind as his gaze was trying to make you submit. Jungkook’s possessiveness loomed over you, a suffocating force that sought to confine your wings.

“You can’t force me,” words slipped past your lips, a proclamation of your refusal to succumb to his dominance.

“You underestimate the lengths I’ll go to keep you, Y/N,” he retorted, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge.

“You’re sick.” You spat out at him, standing up to leave when he grabbed you and held you tight. You were looking up at his face, seemingly angry with your words. His eyes darkened, a fleeting moment of anger crossing his features.

“Aren’t you a bit ungrateful, my love?” he seethed, his voice a low growl. The possessive tone sent shivers down your spine, but you refused to cower under his gaze.

“I’m providing you with shelter, food, money and most of all my love.”

“It’s sick, Jungkook. This isn’t love,” you shot back, your voice unwavering. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his grip unyielding. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“You’re testing my patience, Y/N. You’re mine,” he retorted quickly, not letting you go. You wanted to protest, to tell him to fuck off, and even worse things, but he was not finished.

“Think with your pretty little head, won’t you?—” you glared at him, defiance burning in your eyes.

“—you can live like a princess, you can have your dream position and on top of that a loving significant other — me.” The seconds felt like an eternity, the weight of his possessiveness pressing down on you.

“What is success for when you cannot share the joy with someone you love.” He whispered, a sinister undertone in his words. You had a feeling he’s not only talking about you. You had to think, and you had to think quickly.

“You’re asking me to give up my autonomy, Jungkook.” You shot back, your voice unwavering. He scoffed, the air heavy with tension.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good, Y/N. You need me—” He chuckled, a condescending tone lacing his voice.

“—what were you gonna do if you didn’t come to me? Hm? Your mami and papi who are disappointed in you or your fake friends who did not bat an eye to try and help you out?—” You turned your face away from him, not wanting to let his words affect you.

“—I helped you. I am here for you!” He shook you, still holding a tight grip on you.

“All I’m asking in return is you to give yourself to me.” With a defiant push, you broke free from his grasp, leaving him seething in frustration. Covering your face with your palms, you sobbed.

“Love and loyalty is not that big of a price when you think about it.”

“You promise?” you choked out through your tears. You were tired, exhausted to the bone, and this was taking a bigger toll on you than you would expect. You wanted to trick him and instead he tricked you. But you needed to play by his rules to win in the game he started. His eyes softened momentarily, a twisted form of concern flickering in his gaze.

“I promise, baby,” he murmured, his tone almost soothing. The fire has ceased for now. Or so you thought. Despite the fragile promise, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were dancing on the edge of a precipice, held by the strings he so skilfully pulled. But the stakes were high, and you couldn’t afford to falter. You had no shelter, almost no money and no one to turn to. For now. You promised yourself, this is temporary. You will find a way out of this arrangement.

You finished your dinner. He insisted. You stripped naked while he was drawing the bath. He again insisted. The penthouse, filled with music and the fragrance of expensive candles. You allowed yourself to be led, like a puppet, your exhaustion overshadowing your instincts. As you sat there in the hot water, vulnerable, he wiped away your tears.

The water lapping against your skin is like an ominous reminder of the depths you found yourself in. Jungkook’s hands traced patterns on your back.

Jungkook, seemingly attuned to your exhaustion, wiped away your tears, the gesture carrying a strange mixture of care and control.

“It’s all gonna feel better once you accept it.” Said he, right to your ear, sending shivers down your naked body. You pressed your legs to your chest to hide yourself, a futile attempt at preserving some semblance of privacy, even though he had seen it all.

“I cannot grasp why you would do this to me, Jungkook,” you sobbed, letting him hold you against his chest.

“I did it for us, baby.” His hands firmly gripped yours now, making them stop hugging your knees. The heartthrob wanted you to relax in his presence. A laughable request considering the circumstances that led you here.

“Stop being delusional. There is no us.” You finally let him move your hands only for you to grab the frame of the bathtub and attempt to pull yourself up and away from him. He did not fancy this attempt of yours, and he let you know that by grabbing a large portion of your hair, dragging you back.

Your body slammed to his naked torso with a loud slap caused by the wet skin on skin contact. It took your breath away for a good minute.

“You didn’t seem to argue about it earlier today when my cock was hitting all-the-right-places, making you squirt, hmm?” Said the raven haired man, still holding your hair in his fist. He did not intend to hurt you, no, it was not as painful as the whole humiliating scenery and the fact you could not break free of him. He’s putting an example of what will happen once you stop behaving again. Putting you in your place — that’s what he called it.

“Matter of fact, Imma show you again that there’s us baby, until you realise it yourself.”

Trying to wiggle out of his grasp, you whimpered every time you pulled your hair back to make you stay still. And as if he changed his mind, your body was pulled out of the warm water, letting your hair go, making you fall down to the bright rug on the floor of the bathroom. Soaking it wet you looked up to him towering over your shivering physique.

“It was about time for you to show me how you are grateful to be my good girl—” he stepped closer. You did not want to look at him, knowing well what he is talking about.

“Open up baby—” you shook your head, pulling away from him and his hard member that he was holding just inches away from your face. You felt it meet your cheek and immediately retrieved yourself again which made him even more frustrated. His cock was painfully hard, and you were not cooperating.

The tattooed hand in your hair pulled you right back, his eyes bore to yours with a hard stare, and you swear they got even darker. His other hand was clutching your jaw, harder and harder until you involuntarily opened your mouth wide enough.

Taking the chance right away, he slipped his thick and hard manhood into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. He hissed at how your teeth slightly scraped his dick. You choked on it, but he was unfazed by it, continuing to thrust into your throat, making tears fall down your cheeks.

“I knew you could be my good girl.” He groaned, praising you with each of his hard thrusts into your mouth. Your breathing was shallow, and you tried to get as much air as you could. He was moaning loudly, the wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out of your mouth, covered by your saliva made him even more aroused and hungry for you.

“You just need a bit of a re-education.” He was getting lost in the pleasure your mouth was providing him, and you were deprived of the air you needed. Your hand hit his pelvis when you thought you’re going to pass out soon.

“Just a moment more, baby. I know you can take it.” He said through gritted teeth. Jungkook was panting loudly, mixing it with loud moans of your name.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re my heaven.” Your nails were scratching his abdomen, trying to break free, but his hold was too strong. You were drooling all over his cock, and your hand started to spin from the lack of oxygen and how quickly your head was bobbing.

He was getting dangerously close and his sloppy movements reflected that. He managed to pull one last thrust before he was cumming down your throat. He was letting his dick soften, pressed on your tongue while the hot semen was springing out of his tip.

“Swallow.”

The night wore on, shadows dancing on the walls as you lay there, pressed to his chest, his hand limply laying on your hip, contemplating the surreal turn you took.

If anything arose in you during the intercourse you wish you would wipe out of your mind, it was a determination to break free from the suffocating grasp of the penthouse.

Jungkook laid beside you, his breathing steady, a façade of tranquillity painted on his features. As he drifted into a seemingly serene slumber, you waited for the right moment to seize the opportunity.

When you were certain he was deeply asleep, you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, a shiver running down your spine as you tiptoed through the room.

The moon cast a pale glow through the sheer curtains, guiding your movements as you tiptoed across the room. Your hand grasped the cold doorknob, the soft creaking of the door threatened to betray your escape. Your body frozen in time, your pupils shaking, fearing what happens if he wakes up. You wait a minute to make sure he is not coming to drag you back before you open the door in one swift movement.

You rethought the tasks you listed in your plan. Find the portfolio and get the fuck out as quick as possible. Everything else is replaceable for you. The mindset that the portfolio is the only key to all your problems, remained.

The adrenaline surged through your veins, the pulse of your heart echoing in the quiet hallway you walked through to get to the front of the penthouse.

He never took you upstairs, therefore you assumed that’s where he must’ve hidden it.

You approached the staircase, the carpet soft beneath your feet. The air seemed to grow heavier with every ascending step. The possibility of him waking up was not zero.

As you reached the upper level, you noticed the subtle shift in the ambiance. The hallway, adorned with pieces of art that whispered tales of luxury, and all his awards he won during his career, displayed to show his success. You passed several open doors, a home recording studio in one of them, be ridden of what you were looking for.

The hallway led you towards a set of double doors. That must be it. The doors creaked open, your gaze scanning for any sign of your portfolio. Your eyes flickering between the meticulously arranged accolades and the sprawling desk. He must be using this room as his office.

The seconds stretched into minutes, the urgency escalating with each passing heartbeat. You began with the drawers of the glass table, trying to be as quiet as possible. You cannot afford to cause commotion.

Anxiety wrapped around you, a vice tightening with every passing moment. You went through the library too, looked under every surface, you could not find it.

With a deep breath, you steadied yourself. There must be another place he could have hidden it. Your eyes fell upon the stack of papers, leaning your head to the side you examined the tabloid underneath with your face on it.

You fished it out in mere seconds, eyeing it unbelievably. If you were on the cover of a tabloid you would for sure know that. But you were not aware that your face appeared in Star magazine, right beside Jungkook. “Jungkook’s Mysterious Muse Revealed!” the headline screamed at you.

It was not only you after all. Society has convinced Jungkook that you two are sort of an item. A clandestine affair, a narrative spun by the society, linking your name with Jungkook’s in a tale of intrigue.

It was dated right when you started working on Klein’s campaign, back in April. It is almost the end of November now, and this is the first time you’re seeing this. You couldn’t fathom how deeply the web had been woven around you. The urgency of the situation intensified, and you combed through every conceivable hiding spot.

A sudden noise from downstairs snapped your attention. Fear gripped you, and your heart raced. Did he wake up? The urgency of the situation intensified, and you felt the weight of the clock ticking against you.

You sobbed and when you went to rub your eyes, they fell upon the other room diagonally from the one you were searching now. The doors were slightly ajar and you could see soft shades of colours within. In a last-ditch effort you marched towards it.

But ever stepping inside you regretted. The whole scenery that was revealed once you opened the door swiftly caught your breath in your throat.

The soft shades of colours painted a haunting picture—a baby room, unfinished and untouched by time. The sight startled you, sending a shiver down your spine. This can’t be.

“No..” You whispered to yourself, panicking. Your hands found their place in your hair. He is one delusional man. There is no other explanation, he is sick in the head if he thinks he is going to baby trap you.

A sense of dread overwhelmed you, and in your shock, you stumbled over something on the floor, hitting your head in the process. You groaned from the pain, forgetting that this commotion must have been loud enough for Jungkook to wake up.

As you rolled to the side, your eyes widened in disbelief. The portfolio was taped to the bottom of a cabinet. Without a second thought, you ripped it free, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

The rain outside intensified, a symphony of droplets against the windows. With the portfolio clutched in your hands, you ran down the stairs, right to the front door you prayed would not be locked. Would he be that careless? Yes. The degree of his mental instability was enough for him to believe that you are his and you would not think of running. He cut off every single option you had.

First, by making sure that your former employer would get to know you’re planning to leave the brand, enough for them to let you go. Second, he successfully obtained your portfolio that you were stupid enough to not make a copy of, which resulted in not meeting the deadline with Guess and losing that job opportunity too.

Third, he did not expect you to not stay the first you went to his penthouse but he was determined to go to extremes. So, every single fashion brand that had department stores in New York and in the rest of the world, backlisted you. No job application you sent, assistant buyer, a visibly lower position to what you had at Klein, would be turned down.

Fourth, make sure your landlord has already a tenant replacing you, ready to pay double for your apartment if they can move in as soon as possible.

That you’re alienated from your parents played his cards right and he never wished anything bad upon someone else, but how he thanked God that your friends have either too small apartments for another person to live in or they were struggling even more than you were. But lucky for you. He was right there, waiting for your call.

The handle felt too cold in your hand once you pushed the front door open merging the distance to the elevators, you were madly pushing the down button.

The seconds felt like an eternity as you waited for the elevator. Your breaths came in short, erratic bursts, mirroring the frenetic pace of your heart. Quickly stepping inside the metal box you heard it.

“Y/N?!” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. His eyes momentarily locked with yours. You were clutching your portfolio to your chest, the other hand pressing the close button, praying it will close faster.

He must have heard you running down the stairs, or perhaps when you tripped and fell. You even forgot that you’ve hurt yourself. The adrenaline was overshadowing the pain.

“Come back right now!” He was mad, that much you could tell.

With the last determined push, you closed the door on him, severing the visual link between you. Letting out a relieving breath, you knew that this is far from being over. The elevator descended, carrying you away from the penthouse.

He cannot make it all the way down in time before you’ll disappear from the area. You prayed, he would not.

The lobby welcomed you as the doors opened, the room blurred as you stormed towards the exit, your heart pounding in rhythm with the rain. You burst into the rain-soaked night. Clutching the book tightly, a surge of triumph coursed through your veins.

The cold drops pelted against your skin. The relentless downpour soaking your clothes and hair. Running towards the street, you waved at the cars, hoping a taxi would stop.

It took a minute for some yellow car to appear at the curb, not wasting time, you ran towards it.

A smile appeared on your face after a long time. You did not know where you’re going, nor what you’re going to do next but Jungkook was never supposed to be your option and now you got the chance to choose differently or not? This is your second chance, and you’re willing to take it.

Your hand touched the handle of the yellow vehicle, opening the door and planning to leap inside as quickly as possible.

A strong tattooed hand closed abruptly. You gulped down an enormous lump in your throat, almost not breathing. How could this happen? It was mere minutes. Did he run the stairs? Did you take too long to catch a cab? Should you just run as far as possible?

Every single thing you could have done differently would not change the outcome it seems. And every single thing worked out in his favour, again.

His palm pressed on the taxi door firm, you could not open it anymore nor he would let you hop in the front seat. Your heart pounded in your chest, the tension and fear to face him was killing you. The portfolio now felt like a burden, if you make peace with losing it and your career, would you avoid this?

You could feel his eyes burning holes to the back of your head.

“I will not go back.” You said, voice resolute, but inside you were shaking. You could feel his hot breath on your cold skin, similarly you could feel his body pressing to your back. Once he reached your ear, you felt his lips mere inches from it, whispering.

“You will.”

I N T E R L O G U E 

Jungkook settled into the plush leather chair after he finished carefully unpacking all your belongings, believing he is helping you to settle down. His fingers deftly dialled his mother’s number. As the phone rang, he gazed out over the city lights sprawling beneath him, a realm he had conquered with ruthless determination.

His new song, obviously written about you, was an enormous hit, granting him another Grammy nomination. But what was his success for when he did not have his love to share it with?

He smiled to himself, he got you. After long months of chasing you, then giving you the space you needed to realise he is your best shot in this world, you’re finally where you belong. Next to him.

The familiar voice of his mother greeted him, warm and comforting.

“Eomma—” Jungkook said, his tone affectionate.

“Jungkook, dear! How is my baby?” His mother’s voice held a blend of joy and concern.

“I’m doing well, Eomma. I have some news to share,” he said, his eyes glancing toward the bedroom where Y/N lay, unaware of the conversation taking place.

“Oh? Do tell,” his mother replied, anticipation evident in her voice. Jungkook leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

“Y/N moved in.” His mother’s delight was palpable through the phone. Jungkook let her know the very moment he stepped into your office that he is very much interested in you. That he met the special one he wants to grow old with.

As he spoke, he subtly weaved a narrative of love and destiny, carefully crafting the tale of their supposed connection. His mother listened attentively, hanging onto every word.

“Are you going to propose over Christmas like you wanted, Kookie?” His mother gasped with excitement. Jungkook glanced at the bedroom once more, satisfaction settling within him. The diamond ring well hidden deep inside of the closet. But that’s given and final in his mind, there’s something more he selfishly wants. Not only will it make sure you won’t be able to leave him any more, it will give you reason to grow to love him back. After all, he would be the only person who you can grow old with.

“We’re trying for a baby, Eomma.”

.

.

.

©pennyellee. please do not repost

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Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

[slayingfiction]

Words to use instead of ‘said’

**Using the word ‘said’ is absolutely not a bad choice, and in fact, you will want to use it for at least 40% of all your dialogue tags. Using other words can be great, especially for description and showing emotion, but used in excess can take away or distract from the story.

Neutral: acknowledged, added, affirmed, agreed, announced, answered, appealed, articulated, attested, began, bemused, boasted, called, chimed in, claimed, clarified, commented, conceded, confided, confirmed, contended, continued, corrected, decided, declared, deflected, demurred, disclosed, disputed, emphasized, explained, expressed, finished, gloated, greeted, hinted, imitated, imparted, implied, informed, interjected, insinuated, insisted, instructed, lectured, maintained, mouthed, mused, noted, observed, offered, put forth, reassured, recited, remarked, repeated, requested, replied, revealed, shared, spoke up, stated, suggested, uttered, voiced, volunteered, vowed, went on

Persuasive: advised, appealed, asserted, assured, begged, cajoled, claimed, convinced, directed, encouraged, implored, insisted, pleaded, pressed, probed, prodded, prompted, stressed, suggested, urged

Continuously: babbled, chattered, jabbered, rambled, rattled on

Quietly: admitted, breathed, confessed, croaked, crooned, grumbled, hissed, mumbled, murmured, muttered, purred, sighed, whispered

Loudly: bellowed, blurted, boomed, cried, hollered, howled, piped, roared, screamed, screeched, shouted, shrieked, squawked, thundered, wailed, yelled, yelped

Happily/Lovingly: admired, beamed, cackled, cheered, chirped, comforted, consoled, cooed, empathized, flirted, gushed, hummed, invited, praised, proclaimed, professed, reassured, soothed, squealed, whooped

Humour: bantered, chuckled, giggled, guffawed, jested, joked, joshed

Sad: bawled, begged, bemoaned, blubbered, grieved, lamented, mewled, mourned, pleaded, sniffled, sniveled, sobbed, wailed, wept, whimpered

Frustrated: argued, bickered, chastised, complained, exasperated, groaned, huffed, protested, whinged

Anger: accused, bristled, criticized, condemned, cursed, demanded, denounced, erupted, fumed, growled, lied, nagged, ordered, provoked, raged, ranted remonstrated, retorted, scoffed, scolded, scowled, seethed, shot, snapped, snarled, sneered, spat, stormed, swore, taunted, threatened, warned

Disgust: cringed, gagged, groused, griped, grunted, mocked, rasped, sniffed, snorted

Fear: cautioned, faltered, fretted, gasped, quaked, quavered, shuddered, stammered, stuttered, trembled, warned, whimpered, whined

Excited: beamed, cheered, cried out, crowed, exclaimed, gushed, rejoiced, sang, trumpeted

Surprised: blurted, exclaimed, gasped, marveled, sputtered, yelped

Provoked: bragged, dared, gibed, goaded, insulted, jeered, lied, mimicked, nagged, pestered, provoked, quipped, ribbed, ridiculed, sassed, teased

Uncertainty/Questionned: asked, challenged, coaxed, concluded, countered, debated, doubted, entreated, guessed, hesitated, hinted, implored, inquired, objected, persuaded, petitioned, pleaded, pondered, pressed, probed, proposed, queried, questioned, quizzed, reasoned, reiterated, reported, requested, speculated, supposed, surmised, testified, theorized, verified, wondered

This is by no means a full list, but should be more than enough to get you started!

Any more words you favor? Add them in the comments!

Happy Writing :)

[babygorewhore]

Bite me!

Rafe Cameron x fem reader

When Rafe sees you after picking up Wheezie, he decides that he wants to win you over. Your intoxicating presence hypnotizing him despite your mysterious existence. And Rafe can never back down from a challenge.

W. C almost 3k! Part two

Warnings! News reports of violence! Daddy kink! Male masturbation! Spitting! Biting! Fingering! Non graphic mentions of blood! Unprotected sex! Breeding kink! Light choking! Hints of a sequel…👀 dividers by @xxbimbobunnyxx and thank you for always being my sexy beta reader!

Rafe seeing you, a mysterious girl walking around with his sister wheezie after he was picking her up from school immediately caught his interest on a Wednesday afternoon. You wore dark clothes, knee socks and heels despite everyone else wearing sandals and sneakers. You were stunning-no beautiful. He couldn’t keep his eyes off your magnetic smile and whip of your hair as you confidently smiled at him as Wheezie approached him. Her backpack slung over her shoulder and she gave him a knowing look.

“Seriously? She’d never go for you.” She crossed her arms as she climbed into the passenger seat and buckled herself. Rafe cast her a glare and started the car.

“What’s her name?” She tells him and he nods, savoring the way it sounds. “Pretty. How old is she? Does she work here?”

“I’m not a matchmaker, asshole.” She snaps and he rolls his eyes as he drives home.

“Just tell me.”

“Fine. She’s your age. In her twenties. Yes she works here. She’s a teacher's assistant. And she’s really cool. Kinda quiet but she’s not shy. I like her. She keeps the students in line but she’s fun! She has some crazy stories.”

“Crazy stories?” Rafe muses as they near the house.

“Yeah. She likes to go to graveyards and collect things. She said her favorite time is nighttime and she travels to places around the island for vintage jewelry and furniture.”

Rafe’s mind immediately searched for ideas on ways to get your attention with this information as he parked in the driveway, Wheezie was already half out of the car when he exclaimed, “Wait!” But she was jogging to the front door, ready to pull out the keys for the lock when he caught up.

“I still want to know more,” She lightly slapped his chest as they entered the house.

“Rafe, find her yourself and talk to her. Stop being weird or I’ll tell her you’ve been asking.” Rafe growled softly as she walked away but he knew she’d make good on her threat.

Rafe decided to take his little sister's advice and find you. He went on his phone and typed your name, searching until he found your instagram and he leaned back in his chair in his bedroom as he scrolled through your pictures. Wheezie was right. You did have a collection of unique photos. Including a collection of…vials? He narrowed his eyes but he couldn’t tell what the contents were inside the bottles. You had an array of rings. Expensive ones. But what caught his attention the most was your smile. When you grinned, your teeth looked sharp. Rafe must have been imagining things, too distracted by how fucking pretty you were.

As luck would have it, you posted on your story and he shamelessly clicked on it within seconds. You were at a local coffee shop, which happened to be only a few minutes away and he quickly got up.

When he arrived, he searched for you, finding you reading alone in the corner of the building. Away from the sunlight as you twirled your ring on your finger. You didn’t look up immediately as Rafe neared you, smoothing down his shirt.

“Hey. You’re…?” He spoke your name, causing you to look up with a quirk of your brow.

“Yes?” He swallowed at the sound of your voice. It was low with a hint of a rasp. He set his shoulders and turned on his charm, something that always worked.

“Can I sit down?” He asked and you made a noise of contemplation before nodding.

“Sure, Rafe.”

“Of course, you know who I am,” Rafe chuckled as he sat across from you. You lean back in your seat and cross your legs.

“Well, duh. I mean you’re The infamous Rafe Cameron. Your sister talks about you a lot. About how much of an asshole you are,” You smirk at him and he rolls his eyes but you continue. “But…she does love you. You must be doing something right.”

Rafe paused at the compliment. “Yeah? You think so? You have a lot of opinions.”

“So?” You challenge and Rafe holds up his hands.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing, princess. Don’t bite my head off,” He chuckles and notices the way your eyes briefly darken at the statement before it disappears. “Are you…new around here? I’ve never seen you before.”

“Sort of. I moved here a few months ago. Needed a fresh start.”

Rafe tilts his head at your answer. “Where are you from?”

“Salem.” You give him a smile and he hums.

“A little bit of a culture shock, huh? Going from doom and gloom to the beach. You don’t exactly fit in.” He shrugs and half expects you to glare at him but you instead laugh.

“Ha, that is true, Rafe. You’re asking a lot of questions. You like me or something?” Your bold question takes him off guard for a second before he decides to answer honestly.

“Yeah, I do. You interest me. You wanna go somewhere? I can get to know you a little better-“

“Who said I was interested back?” You toss at him but Rafe smirks.

“You wouldn’t talk to me if you weren’t, baby. Come on. Give me a chance. Let me win you over. Name it and I’ll do it.”

“Oh, someone’s playing a dangerous game.” You remark but you lean your elbows on the table. “But I’ll play along. How about a party?” You offer.

“A party? That’s it?”

“Not so fast. Not like one of those bullshit things you probably used to throw. A real party. One where we dress up. Where it’s dark. Good music. Good drinks. Sophisticated. I’m a woman of class, you know.”

“For you?” Rafe leans forward and inhales the scent of your perfume. The intoxicating smell lingers in his nose and he sighs. “Anything. Be at my house tomorrow at eight. It’ll be the night of your life.”

Rafe invited a list of people over at his house for that evening the next day, including Barry who was interested in seeing a girl actually out smart him with remarks as he hung up the phone and focused on the tv in his bedroom.

Reports of five people being in the hospital after being attacked by some mysterious animal who drained them of blood. Not that far away from his penthouse. He had half a mind to pull Wheezie from school but decided ultimately she would be safer in a group of people.

As the day progressed and he got the house ready, Rafe waited for you to arrive as his friends did. He didn’t invite many. Prioritizing people who would give him plenty of privacy and entertain themselves.

Where were you? He looked at his watch. It was twenty minutes later and he was getting anxious. Fuck, did you bail?

“Boo.” He heard a whisper in his ear and he spun around in shock.

You stood behind him with a wide smile but he immediately noticed your clothing. You were wearing a dress that fit your curves perfectly. Heels that highlighted your legs, jewelry that dangled from your ankles, wrists and hung above your heart. You still wore expensive rings and your nails were painted black. Your lipstick was red. Rafe breathed in deeply before trying to grasp whatever semblance of calm as he stepped close to you. And you didn’t back away.

“Mmm, you look fucking amazing, baby. Thought you weren’t going to show.”

“I’m a woman of my word, Rafe Cameron. I was exploring.” You flashed your eyes wide for a second before setting a hand on his chest. And he shivered from your cold temperature. “And damn. What a house. But what I noticed was in your entertainment room. It’s like you know me or something.” You chuckle and Rafe raises his eyebrow in confusion.

“It looks like you have a dance floor.” You crossed your arms, your hips shifting inside the material of your dress. “And I love to dance.”

“Is that right?” Rafe mused and you nodded. You reached forward and took his hand. He looked down at your laced fingers as he felt the chill raise on his own skin from the contact. “Well, why don’t you go ahead and show me, baby girl. Show me how good you are.”

You both walked to the entertainment room and he noticed the way the dim lighting illuminated how beautiful you were. You were so elegant. You walked as if you owned everything in this world and he loved that. He loved the way you marched forward but he also took in the way you watched the guests. Your eyes narrowed on their throats before they shifted back to the direction you were both heading towards.

You gently pushed Rafe down on the couch, the pillows shifting from his weight. The room was empty and you smirked at him. He went to sit up but you pin him in place by placing your heeled shoe against his chest. You shake your head and click your tongue. “No, no. You sit there. And enjoy the show. But while you’re being a good boy and listening…you can hold onto these.” Rafe breathed heavily as you gently touched your own leg that was propped up. Your palm slowly grazed your skin, moving up until you hooked your fingers along the elastic of your underwear.

You removed your shoe off him and wiggled your panties off. Stepping out of them, you dangle the soaked pair in front of him. “These are my favorite pair, daddy. But you’ll take care of them, right?”

He was rendered speechless for a second before he snapped out of it and snatched them out of your hand, causing you to laugh. He held them against his lap as you took steps back. You walked to the speaker, picked up the remote and went through a series of options before selecting a song. It was a rock song. One he recognized from social media. Living Dead Girl was the name.

You lower yourself to the ground, getting on your knees in the middle of the floor, you separate your thighs and roll your body. You take your time, running your hands all over your torso before they settle on your tits, you squeeze them lightly as you start bouncing.

Your ass moves as you crawl forward, shifting your body around so you're slowly dancing to the rhythm of the beat and Rafe felt like he was losing his mind. His cock was so hard it hurt and he was desperate for any sort of relief. He eyed your pair of panties and finally decided to use them.

He unbuckled his belt and moved down his pants, his dick stiff against his boxers as he pulled it out, it slapped against his thigh and he wrapped the lace material around it.

He gasped as he ran his hand along his shaft, your underwear clutched in his fist as he watched you start to suck your fingers, laying on the ground as you spread your legs, your fingers brushing against your bare pussy that was exposed as it glistened in the light and he moaned deeply as he tugged at himself.

“Fuck,” He huffed out. He wanted to touch you. So badly but he also didn’t want to interrupt your performance as you slapped your cunt before putting your fingers back in your mouth.

He was getting close already as he harshly jerked himself off, your underwear dampening as precum leaked out as his stomach flexed, his head falling back against the cushion. You looked like a fucking dream as you slowly stood up, continuing to dance to the music as your shoes clacked against the wood floor.

He hadn’t realized his eyes drifted shut when he felt a light tap against his cheek, snapping him out of his trance. You were leaning over him, both hands on either side of his head. Your chest right above his face. “Cum for me, daddy. Make a mess like the dirty whore you are.”

That sent him over the edge and he spilled into your panties. His release coating them as he trembled and he felt your smaller hand wrap around his cock before sliding to his balls and you massaged them. His vision went white as you pumped him through it before you gripped his chin and swiped your thumb along his lower lip. “Open.” You order and he does.

You move above his mouth and spit inside causing him to growl and pull you forward. He maneuvered you on your hands and knees on the large sofa, giving your ass a slap and causing you to whine as he yanks your dress up. He groaned at your sticky inner thighs and he ran his finger along them before focusing on your clit, causing you to buckle but he wrapped his other hand in your hair. “Uh uh, you can fucking take it, princess.”

He rubs circles on your center and you mewl as he pulls your hair harder, feeling you drip onto his fingers and he slides two of them inside your cunt, curling them deeply. “That’s a good girl. Squeezing me so fucking tight. But I think you need something to suck on while I fuck you.” He shoves your panties past your lips as he works you over, making you grind onto his hand.

Rafe runs the tip of his dick along your slit, tapping it a few times before effortlessly pushing it inside. He moans and rests his head briefly on your back, holding you up by moving his head to grip around your neck. “Such a greedy little slut,” He breathes and thrusts hard. “You fucking feel that? I’m gonna breed this tight pussy and you’re fucking mine.” He grits his teeth as he snaps his hips into you.

Your hands grip the arm of the couch as he pulls out before slamming back in, causing you to sob against your underwear in your mouth, his cum and your spit mixing in the corners of your lips as you nod your head, encouraging him to keep going.

The music began repeating, stirring him onward as you clenched around him and he smacked your ass again, feeling you grow closer. “Gonna cum, baby girl? Cum all over daddy’s cock like the good fucking whore you are.”

That’s all it took for him to feel your warm wet cunt pulse before you came all over his dick, you shuddered and cried out as he thrusted a few more times before reaching his own climax.

Ropes of cum coating your insides and he shook before catching you. His balls slapped against your ass as he pulled out of your cunt that leaked on the couch. “Fuck, baby. I think you should lick that clean, don’t you? You’re a dirty girl.” He shoves your face down and removes your panties. Your tongue laps up your own cum as he bobs your head up and down. “You listen to daddy so well,” he praises.

But at a sudden turn of events, you turn and pin him down by his shoulders and straddle his lap. You sink down on his cock again, causing his eyes to widen and pleasure to rise in his veins as you bury your head in his neck. You pepper kisses along his skin as he grips your hips and guides you through riding him.

Your wet pussy takes him to the brim and he groans against your shoulder. He feels your teeth graze his flesh before he feels a prick of pain but it quickly disappears as you wrap a hand around his throat. Keeping him in place as you rock your pelvis.

“Fucking Christ,” he manages and reaches his orgasm again, his cock twitching before his cum gushes inside you. But you still don’t remove your face from the crook of his neck and he’s all too content to allow you to fuck him however long you want as his eyes drift close.

He jerked awake and sat up straight. Minutes had gone by and he looked around. He saw you adjusting your dress, wiping your lips as a trail of red droplets dribbled down your mouth and he tilted his head, subconsciously reaching up to cup his neck.

He felt two punctures that were wet and he pulled his hand back. Rafe dug his phone out, pulling out the camera and he saw it.

A bite mark.

Everything snapped into place as he stared at you, slowly putting his phone down as you turned towards him. “Are you-did you fucking bite me and drink my…blood?”

Instead of denying it, you gave him a wicked smirk. “But you’ll keep that to yourself, daddy. Won’t you?”

Rafe remembered the news report earlier that day. People were drained of blood and how mysterious you were.

You were a fucking vampire.

“But how is that possible?” He whispered.

“Darling, you have no idea what kind of creatures are out there. You’re lucky I like you, Rafe. But I have to go. You certainly held up your end of the game didn’t you?” You giggle and begin walking away.

“Will I see you again?” He questioned and made you turn your head.

“And why would I forget someone who tastes so fucking good, baby?” You wink at him before finally exiting the room and Rafe sank into the seat.

“What the fuck?” He whispered to himself but didn’t couldn’t deny himself the truth.

This was the night of his life.

Tagging @marchsfreakshow @drewstarkeyslut @redhead1180 @rafescurtainbangz @emsgoodthinkin @take-everything-you-can @valeskafics @slvt4jamesmarch @gri959 @oceandriveab @rafesthroatbaby

[theemporium]

SAW THE OCTOBER PROMPTS AND KNEW I HAD TO SUBMIT ONE IN

could i do 💰 with my fav boyfriend max verstappen who has just slowly creating a list of everything reader has looked at a little too long or talked about for a couple of minutes. It ranges from tiffany jewelry to chanel dresses to la perla lingerie to gucci perfume to louboutin red bottoms, he knows everything that the reader wants and just one day surprises reader with everything

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“What…the…fuck.”

Max stood in the middle of your living room—your once empty living room that was now flooded with boxes and bags everywhere you looked—with his hands on his hips and a proud look on his face. And he looked completely unashamed with the scene around him.

“Surprise!” He said it so simply like he had just placed a home cooked meal in front of you, or maybe ran a few errands for you that he knew were a hassle. He was acting like the designer brand labels littering the living room of your apartment were normal, like an everyday occurrence. Though, maybe for Max Verstappen, they were.

“You…what….huh?” You looked at him, confused and baffled and desperate for answers. “What is all this?”

“It’s for you,” he said as he picked up a random bag nearby and handed it towards you, the Chanel logo making you feel a little nauseous. “Though I think people usually call them gifts.”

“This is too much,” you breathed out, your head spinning at the idea of just how much he could have possibly spent on you. At the mere idea of how much money was technically sitting in your far-too-small living room. “This is way too much, Max. I can’t.”

His brows furrowed together. “Why not?”

Your eyes widened. “Is that really a question you’re asking?” 

“But it’s all stuff you want,” he pointed out to you. 

“You can’t possibly—” Except the boy cut you off as he reached into the Chanel bag he was still holding, taking out a shoe box. And before you could even say anything, he was opening it to show you a pair of black platform heels you remembered vaguely showing him a few weeks back. “Max.”

“You said you wanted them.” 

“I said I liked the look of them.”

“Same thing.”

It seemed like every possible object or item you had spent longer than three seconds staring at were currently sitting in your living room at that moment, and Max didn’t see an issue with it. And you knew you shouldn’t be mad at him. Even before everything changed between you and Max, you had made the deal to be the person he splurged on. You agreed to it. You accepted the terms.

But you thought things would change once your relationship changed, when it went from financially beneficial to an actual romance. You thought he knew he didn’t need to do any of this anymore.

“Max,” you started as you tried to step over a pile of boxes, your foot getting caught in the handle of a bag. But before you could stumble, he was reaching out to grab your arms. “Babe, you don’t have to do this.”

“You are making it seem like someone is making me do it against my will,” Max mused, a hint of amusement on his face as his arms wound around your waist.

“I’m your girlfriend, you don’t have to spend money on me like this,” you said to him, your hands interlocking behind his head. 

“It’s exactly why I should,” Max scoffed. “You’re my girl. Mine to take care of and spoil and keep happy.” 

“Max—”

“Stop saying my name like that, you sound like a school teacher scolding me,” he groaned as he rested his head against your shoulder. Though, something in his chest tightened when he heard you laugh. 

“It’s just a lot,” you admitted in a whisper. 

“It’s everything you deserve and everything I want to give you,” Max retorted before he slowly lifted his head, his nose brushing against yours. “I’ll calm down but don’t make me give any of it back.”

You sighed, smiling. “Fine.”

“Good, because I don’t know where the receipts are and I’m pretty sure half of it wouldn’t even fit in my car.” 

His grin widened as your laugh bounced off the walls of your far-too-small living room.

.

[senmiyaazx]

SOLIVAN X READER

“Wanna be your muse ...”

cw: none // not fully proofread

Scratch, scribble, scribble .....

Hm, that's not quite right.

Using the end of the pencil, you rubbed away at the paper— erasing the imperfections in your art.

You were completely distracted. Whatever your professor was saying, you didn't care. It's boring and you could probably just search it up the next time he gives you homework.

You yawned, looking down at your drawing. A blush crept to your cheeks as you realize you've been drawing him for the past few days.

Him— your partner and new friend, the guy whose existence you weren't even aware of until a few days ago, the one who went unnoticed by everyone and you despite him being in the same class as you. Solivan Brugmansia, or rather, Sol.

He's pretty darn cute. Despite his intimidating appearance — from the black clothing and that scary gaze he had — he was actually really sweet, and kind. At least to you.. and Hyugo. But he's softer towards you.

You've noticed the way he stared for longer than he should, lingering touches that shouldn't be there, his dark gaze whenever he sees you interacting with Crowe, or anyone else for that matter. He also seems to like you a lot. Perhaps too much, but you don't really mind. Not when he's been oh so generous to you.

You groaned. No, that doesn't look like him. Try again.

Right. After you became partners, you couldn't help but continue to draw him even if it was unrelated to the project you both worked on. At first, it was mere excuses — you told yourself 'It's just for practice'. It's totally not because he's so pretty you can't help but want to admire him! Sounds weird, doesn't it? That's why it's for practice.

Fuck it. He's so damn pretty.

But your memory sucked, and you need a reference. How though? It's not like you can just ask him for a selfie, that'd probably sound suspicious. Plus, you're in class right now, and you really want to finish this sketch.

You sucked in a breath. Surely one look will be enough. Just one quick look?

You purposefully dropped your eraser on the floor, pretending it was an accident. You took a moment before picking it up, and as you did, you subtly turned your head to where Sol was— though to your surprise, he was already looking at you. Your gaze locked with those vermillion eyes, your own ones widening slightly before you immediately sat back up with an embarrassed blush.

'Can't believe he was already looking..' You sighed. 'This is so embarrassing.'

At least you managed to get a look. You can already envision his image in your head. It wasn't long before you got back to sketching.

You finished after a while. A smile was brought to your face as you stared at your creation, proud.

You rested your head on the desk, using your arms as a cushion. You closed your eyes, feeling tired. Just a few more minutes until..

...

Someone was shaking you awake. When did you fall asleep?

You raised your head from your desk, blinking sleepily.

"Sol..?" You mumbled.

"Morning, sleepyhead. You fell asleep." Sol's voice rung in your ear like a melody. You never realized how soothing his voice sounded, despite the teasing tone it held. You thought about how nice it'd be to hear it every morning.

"Did you get enough sleep last night? You look really tired." His tone switched to a concerned one, more like a doting mother.

"Yeah, just forgot to have my morning coffee." You grinned sheepishly, grabbing your things. "Thanks for waking me up."

He only gave a hum before a shy expression took over his features, a hint of blush blossoming on his cheeks.

He seems to be holding something in his hands before giving it to you. Is that your test paper? No, wait, is that the sketch you made earlier?!

"A-ah! Sorry-" You quickly took the paper from him (albeit rather aggressively), immediately shoving it into your bag as hot shame washed over you.

He chuckled which only served to stir your embarrassment even further.

"It's fine." He sucked in a breath. "You're really cute." He mumbled.

"What did you say?" You perked up, still trying to calm your racing heart. Why were you so flustered anyway?

"Nothing," He smiled shyly. "You know, if you ever need... references, you could always ask me. I don't mind.. I'd do anything for you after all." He whispered that last part to himself. You didn't even care - or notice it, you were too embarrassed.

Your eyes widened. Wait, was he serious? He's being for real?

Nonetheless, you couldn't bring yourself to deny because you probably would've never had the courage to ask. "Right, aha, I'll definitely take you up on that offer, thanks, uh.. bye!" You rushed out of your seat, the paper nearly crumpling in your hands.

Sol watched as you bolted away. He's completely aware of the way his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He couldn't help but grin. How could he not? You were thinking about him. That alone, is enough to make his heart flutter and yearn for more.

He smiled shakily, leaving the classroom after a while, thoughts filled with you as he walked through the hallways.

You're.. so cute. So damn cute.

———

a/n: this was supposed to come with three characters: sol, crowe and casper (date with death), but it's 4am and I'm not sure when im able to write for the other two since i have a busy schedule. i already have an idea though, just need to write it out :)

[shroomi1e]

❝ i object! ❞

kazuha + albedo

summary: you as a noble should naturally marry another noble, despite your love for another. your parents had managed to pry your lover off of you and get you wedded to a powerful nobleman- that is, until your past lover comes barging through the doors on your wedding day.

cw: gn!reader, arranged/forced marriage, teeny tiny bit of alcohol, angst to comfort

what i listened to while writing: wave - wave to earth

a/n: *slowly crawls out of my cave* hey guys. it's me again😭 i randomly got the motivation to write again, idk what demons possessed me to write this in the span of 5 hours but at least i have new content!!!! i was gonna do this with more characters but kazuha and albedo were the only ones i see pulling this cheesy-typa stuff tbh

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kazuha

“…what?”

your gaze fell down towards the wooden docks you were standing on. kazuha frowned, his grasp on your hand loosening. he was aboard the crux, and the crew was preparing to leave inazuma for another trip to liyue.

“i’m from one of the tri-commissions, kazuha,” you said defeatedly. “it’s over for us now. i’m going to be wedded as an alliance with another commission. i… i’m sorry…” but before kazuha could respond, the large ship began to sail away, his hands completely slipping away from yours.

kazuha leaned over the edge of the ship, watching your figure get smaller and smaller. though he hoped you would at least give him a wave goodbye, you simply turned around and left the docks of ritou, leaving him saddened and confused.

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kazuha spent the next month lost in his thoughts. ink blots were all that filled the pages of his journal now that he’s lost his muse.

“it’s over for us now.”

those words played in his mind like a broken record in hopes that maybe he could find a sense of doubt from those words, just a hint that it wasn’t truly over. he’s tried to understand, truly. but the thought of losing you ate kazuha up from the inside, especially knowing that he had no control over it. there weren’t any flaws in him or you that caused this, only circumstance. and that stung his heart more than anything.

despite kazuha’s wishes and prayers, the wedding would happen either way. news eventually reached his ears that two commissions from inazuma would be joined through a marriage between the two heirs, and that was when kazuha truly felt like he was losing control. you were being swept away so suddenly, carried away in the arms of another man. what was he to do?

you were being fitted into a kimono that very second, the maids tying the knots and wrapping the fabric around your body. your limbs felt heavy like lead, your head hanging low like rotten fruit on a tree. you tried to live in a fantasy just for at least a few moments, imagining that kazuha was the one you were being wed to, not a nobleman.

kazuha almost felt like a dream now that he was gone, as if he was only a fleeting imagination before you had to wake up to reality. the ephemeral touches, the honey-dipped sunsets, the smell of salt and the sea. that was all simply an illusion. you had to go back to the wooden floors, the inked papers and the melting candles. this was reality now, where everything was out of your control.

“this is all for the sake of our family, you know that?” your father’s voice broke your train of thought. “think of this as a way to pay us back for raising you. you’re much better off with a nobleman than that wandering fugitive anyways.”

you grit your teeth and tightened your fist, your knuckles whitening. “i know.”

the ceremony went through in a daze, the sacred sake tasting bitter on your tongue. a part of you felt like you should’ve just jumped on that ship along with kazuha. regret sat in your stomach like a sickly bag of bleach. but you knew it was for the better, both for you and your family.

after the vows, the priest then asked, “does anyone here object to the wedding?”

a heavy silence followed. the two of you were heirs to the biggest commissions in inazuma, it was obvious that nobody would dare to object this wedding. your gaze fell further down in defeat. it was really happening now.

“i object!”

your head snapped up from the ground and turned towards the voice. at the end of the crowd stood kazuha, the wind blowing softly through his hair, the golden light from the sunset outlining his silhouette.

emotions rushed through your chest: happiness, regret, sadness, doubt, and guilt. the cup you were holding dropped to the ground and shattered. the crowd began to murmur and gossip.

“kazuha,” you breathed out.

the crowd parted to make way for your lover, who confidently walked towards you and held his hand out. everything around you seemed to suddenly disappear the moment your fingertips met his. it was only the two of you now.

“kazuha… what on earth are you doing here?”

“i just need you to answer one question for me,” kazuha said softly. “do you trust me?”

by the way he eagerly interlocked his fingers with yours, his intentions were obvious. if you were to answer this question, it would mean throwing away everything you’ve known thus far: your family, your possessions, your wealth, your inheritance, your responsibilities. everything. but with the way kazuha was silently pleading you with his eyes… how could say no?

you let out a shaky breath. “i do.”

kazuha merely smiled in return, his eyes softening as if to tell you that everything was going to be alright. that he understood your choices, and that all you need to do was take this final leap of faith.

“hurry up kazuha!” beidou’s voice interrupted. a few meters away, the crux was anchored to the docks, the crew eagerly waiting to set sail. “the guards might come and take ya anytime soon!”

kazuha held your hand tightly and began running towards the docks, the two of you giggling as he helped you up on the ship. the nobleman, priest, and the crowd all watched in disbelief as you hopped onto the crux, sailing away with the samurai.

the crew cheered as you and kazuha shared a kiss of reunion, the anchor lifting from the seafloor and the two of you sailing away into the golden sun, just like you were meant to be.

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albedo

“i…see.” albedo’s eyes wander off to nowhere in particular after hearing your explanation. he blinks a few times as if to confirm that he wasn’t dreaming.

“it’s not your fault, albedo, and neither is it mine,” you added. “i hope you understand.”

for the first time since albedo was created, he feels numb. his fingertips lose grip as it all finally settles in. you’re leaving him for another man.

of course, he knows that’s not really the case. albedo understands your circumstance as well as the political powers at play, but at the end of the day, that’s what’s happening, right? you’re being wedded off to another man, which of course means you’ll have to leave him.

and when he sees you take off your ring- the ring he gave you- and put it on his desk, his heart shatters. you silently take your leave, disappearing into the dragonspine snow. albedo’s gaze is immediately pulled to the golden band on his desk, which seemed so much duller now that it wasn’t on your finger.

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projects seem more pointless than ever before, and piles of crumpled up drafts fill albedo’s trash bin. he’s taken down all the portraits of you in his home because it was too painful to bear, yet he can’t deny that he was still hopelessly in love with you. the thought of you standing at the altar with another man made albedo positively sick. and there was nothing he could do about it.

he even decided to abandon his projects to visit the city in hopes that he could catch a glimpse of you, but you never seemed to be there. he’d wander for what seemed like hours, only for it to be in vain. ‘of course,’ he tells himself, ‘they’d be busy preparing for the wedding.’

the ring in his pocket weighs heavier than before. he takes it out and twirls it in his hand, the afternoon sun reflecting off of it almost blindingly. the church bells ring in the distance, as well as the melody from the church organ.

wait… the organ is playing.

albedo clasps his hand around the ring tightly before frantically running up the stairs towards the cathedral. the scent of flowers fills his nostrils as he makes his way past the statue of barbatos and climbs the final flight of stairs until he’s met with the wooden doors of the cathedral.

he won’t lose you. he can’t lose you.

albedo’s hands feel heavy as his palm rests flat against the door. once the organs stop playing, the faint voice of a priest could be heard from outside. he can hear the nobleman say his vows, then you. his flat palm turns into a fist as he contemplates what to do next. he’s never liked crowds, nor has he ever liked being the center of attention. this could certainly ruin his reputation, and hell, the clan you’re getting married to might even get him fired but-

the thought of you being by his side again gives albedo more than enough courage to push against the doors.

“does anyone object to this wedding?”

with one strong push, the doors swing open. sunlight spills into the cathedral and forms a path of light leading to you. and dear lord barbatos, you look breathtaking.

albedo watches as you turn around in confusion. the ring you were holding in one hand clatters to the floor, echoing down the hall.

though albedo had planned on walking towards you, he couldn’t help but start running down the aisle. panting, he turns to the priest. “i object this wedding. i am their rightful lover, am i not?”

you step down from the altar, your hands reaching to caress his face and gently wipe the sweat from his forehead. “even after everything i told you… you still came. i tried so hard to hurt your feelings, so why are you here?”

despite the tears pooling in your eyes, you’re smiling. and that’s all albedo needed to see. “i must be going insane, y/n. i’m not one to act like this.”

he kneels down right then and there, holding up the ring with two of his fingers. “will you marry me?”

you take a moment to look down at albedo, who’s kneeling before you in a silent plead. the faint bags under his eyes are proof enough that he’s missed you. your family would hate you for this. doing this would mean to be shunned and disowned from your clan. the support you once had would dissipate in an instant. albedo might be put in danger as well. but you’d rather have nothing and albedo rather than everything but albedo.

“yes,” you said before sliding the ring on your ring finger, right where it belonged. you grab albedo’s arm and run out the cathedral, much to the protest of your family sitting at the pews.

you skip down the steps in a hurry before turning your head to see albedo smiling softly. you’re dolled up, and the afternoon glow of the sun hits your face just perfectly. and with his ring resting on your finger, albedo can’t help but simply adore you.

‘you are killing me softly,’ he thinks, ‘yet you seem to be the only thing keeping me alive.’

[delirious-donna]

There’s A Girl In My Tub [Part Two]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

chapter summary: Kento walks in on a woman he doesn't know neck-deep in his bath. What is he meant to do now?

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: reader described as having hair that can be put in a ponytail, SFW

Part One | Series Masterlist | Part Three

The mistake was clear from the second he lunged inside the bathroom. Where he had presumed to find his younger sister submerged in his tub, sat a woman he did not know splashing and spluttering from both the shock of being jump scared and the bubbles that shot up your nose.

Kento wasn’t sure what his predominant emotion was, whether it be complete mortification for interrupting someone bathing or indignant anger at the complete stranger using his apartment like some kind of luxury hotel.

“Who the fuck are you?” The stranger half yelled, half spluttered.

Realisation dawned on him like icy dread spider walking up his spine. What had meant to be a practical joke was no longer looking so funny.

“You’re not Karin…” He said matter-of-factly.

At this point, he was simply stating the obvious. What he found interesting was the comprehension that he could see illuminated in your eyes. You might not be Karin, but you knew who she was. The connection between the two of you was what he needed to establish next, or well… after he found out your name.

“I’m Nanami Kento, and you’re in my bath. Who are you?”

His eyebrow cocked in a mixture of continued annoyance and the first hint of curiosity. Given that you were familiar with his sister meant you weren’t some crazy intruder, not that he thought that in the first place given your luggage in his room and the fact that you couldn’t have gained access without a keycard and code.

You offered your name in no more than a timid squeak, and he didn’t recognise it. He huffed a tired exhale and turned towards the door to give you a modicum of privacy. His mouth opened to speak, but you beat him to the punch, silencing him effectively with your more confident tone.

“Look, can we not hash this out whilst I am naked in your bath? Give me ten minutes, and I’ll meet you in the living area,” you enthused, hands gesticulating wildly. It sent a flurry of bubbles into the air which Kento watched before giving a curt nod of agreement and stalking out without uttering another word.

He needed a drink in the worst possible way, even if it was only early afternoon. It was going to be entirely necessary to indulge in his top-shelf liquor to help with his current predicament.

Once more, he glanced at the haphazardly packed case open on his bed. This time studying the contents a little more closely. Perhaps he should have considered doing this earlier, as one glance was enough to confirm that even the style of clothing was so unlike his sister, not to mention the stuffed animal, which he guessed resembled a bunny rabbit despite its ragged appearance. Karin hadn’t been one for stuffed toys, preferring dolls and the pretty furniture to fill ornate dollhouses growing up.

Speaking of his dearly beloved sibling, Kento fished his phone from his pocket as he made his way back to the kitchen. He cradled it between his ear and shoulder whilst selecting a crystal tumbler and a bottle of scotch. The ringing went to voicemail. Of course, it did.

“Karin, call me. I don’t appreciate surprises, and you owe me an explanation.” He kept it short and sweet, his specialty. He pushed the phone across the kitchen island and turned to lean his back against the pantry door.

What the hell was going on? He mused silently, swirling the dark amber contents of his glass before bringing it to his lips and swallowing a healthy mouthful. The liquor coated his teeth and burned his throat as it slid into his mostly empty stomach.

Everything had happened in such a rush that he couldn’t even picture your face as he waited. He hadn’t thought to get a good look at you, not when the circumstances were so intimate–vulnerable even. Not for the first time today, his palm scrubbed down his face. What must you think of him? You were this–he floundered for a moment in thinking of how to accurately describe you–young woman, naked and trapped in a room with one exit. An exit that he had blocked with his body.

He groaned, pressing the cool crystal tumbler to his temple and rolling it across his forehead. This was exactly the type of situation you saw in horror movies, except he wasn’t some crazed killer on the hunt for young virgins or any young women for that matter, but he would understand if you were fearful of him. It would only be logical.

As if summoned by thought alone, the soft pad of your socks alerted Kento that you had finished with the bath. He glanced sideways, eyeing the simple black leggings and an oversized sweater emblazoned with the logo of Karin’s college, and some pieces of the puzzle fell neatly into place.

Your hair was mostly dry except for the ends that had been splashed by the unexpected dunking they had received, the strands tied loosely into a ponytail that softened the stern expression plastered across your features.

Standing with the kitchen island between you as if it afforded you some semblance of protection, Kento tried not to smile when you folded your arms across your chest and tilted your chin in his direction. The sleeves of your sweater engulfed your arms so completely that only the tips of your fingers showed. He admired your courage in the face of a stranger, a male one at that, and one that could likely impose his height and weight against you if he so inclined. Sure, he admired it, but it was also incredibly dumb.

“Did you enjoy your soak?” He asked, taking another sip of scotch to hide the quirk of his lips.

Your eyes narrowed. Damn, he hadn’t felt amusement like this in the longest time. Some would claim that he didn’t have a funny bone in his body, but they were wrong. Kento simply didn’t entertain cheap humour, and this situation was far from bargain basement.

“I was. That is until this massive oaf leapt inside screaming like a maniac and scaring the life out of me.”

That was enough to wipe the smile from his face. Kento straightened and set his tumbler down. He ran a hand through his hair and endeavoured to end this charade right here and now. To hell with the fact that you amused him, he didn’t know you from Adam.

“How do you know Karin? And I am not an oaf, for the record,” he added with what sounded even to him as a touch of petulance.

You rolled your eyes. “She’s my friend, maybe even best friend, actually. We go to the same college, different majors though. How do you know her? Are you her dad or something?”

It was Kento’s turn to narrow his eyes. He could see it for what it was, a direct jab at him, but you didn’t truly believe he could possibly be her father, or at least he hoped not!

You picked at your nails whilst the silence lingered on. He debated whether to rise above your petty attempts at riling him, but something stopped him. Kento was the level-headed one, always reasonable, however, something about you crept beneath his skin.

“Can’t be that much of a best friend if you don’t even know that she has a brother… that would be me, by the way. Hi. I’m the brother, and this is my apartment. I do hope this is some kind of elaborate joke.”

Sure enough, his aim was true. Your face crumpled at the truth he laid out so cruelly. Instead of feeling some sense of triumph for gaining the upper hand, he resigned to the guilt settling heavily in his chest. He almost rubbed at his heart but stopped at the last second.

Why did he care? That’s what he really wanted to know. Yes, you were cute. He was a man after all, he could appreciate your soft feminine features, but he was hardly known as a man who sought out the company of the opposite sex often.

Kento pinched the bridge of the nose. It was upsetting to watch you fold in upon yourself like this, your shoulders hunched inward and your head bowed low. He cared, and that was surprising. He wished for that spark of confidence to ignite again, longing to kick himself for being the one to douse it in the first place.

“I’m… I’m sorry. That was cruel of me, but you did call me her dad!” He tried to rationalise his outburst, and he was glad when your head snapped up to scrutinise him. “We’ve started on the wrong foot. Can you blame me for acting a little irrational? I’ve never found an intruder in my home before, let alone a naked one in my bath. Why are you here?”

Without a word, you stretched out a hand for his near-empty glass, swallowing down the remnants in one gulp. You hissed through your teeth, dancing on the spot whilst the potent alcohol slid into your belly to warm you. Kento cocked his eyebrow but chose to remain silent.

He had so many questions. Why you were here in his home was curiously not at the top of the pile, but it seemed inappropriate to be querying your age and probing your interests at this point in the conversation. Not to mention, you were his sister’s friend, nothing more.

Nothing more, Kento.

“Well, your darling sister told me this was her place, and that it was empty right now. Clearly, neither part was true, and I will be taking that up with her as soon as she answers her damn phone!”

“Hm, so Karin is avoiding your calls too. Curious.”

You blew out a long breath, the strands of hair framing your face dancing around and… Kento glanced away, refusing to acknowledge the desire to fix them behind your ear.

“Aren’t you on spring break? Why aren’t you shacked up in some overly loud and raucous resort? I’m certain that’s where Karin will be right about now.” Kento rolled his eyes at even thinking about it. He well remembered his years in college and how he loathed this time of year. It was his idea of hell.

Scrunching your nose in distaste, you walked around the edge of the kitchen island and hopped up to sit yourself closer to him. Again, he cursed your trust. He could be lying to you. He could have nefarious intent. So why did it make him want to protect you all the more?

“No thanks. I’d rather catch up on some classes and prepare for the new semester, but…” You trailed off, eyes lowering to your fingers which continued to fidget incessantly–an annoying habit he noted.

“But what?” Kento got the sense that he wasn’t going to like your answer much. He braced for it, both palms flush on the marble countertop and coaxing you into maintaining his steady eye contact.

“I don’t have anywhere else I can go. My parents are renovating, and I can’t afford to rent a place for two weeks, at least not somewhere actually habitable.”

Kento froze as the weight of your words washed over him. There was a chance that Karin was truly being a good friend since she had been aware of the business trip he was meant to be on right now. It would be so like her to help out a friend in need.

Was he meant to toss you out on your ass? He was within his rights, of course, but could his conscience allow it? It was obvious you weren’t lying or exaggerating to gain his favour, you looked just as uncomfortable telling him the truth as he did hearing it. This whole situation was a mess, and he didn’t see a clear way out of it.

Well, shit…

[roll-of-royces]

HC: How They Respond To Someone Flirting With You

At first he is subtle about his jealousy, his jaw tightens, he shifts a little closer. He makes an off-handed remark to whoever is causing the jealousy ("Yes, my partner and I went out for breakfast yesterday. We enjoyed it.").

If the stranger persists so does Zayne. Now it's an arm lightly curling around your waist. It's a kiss to the top of your head, a rare display of affection despite others nearby. The statements become more claiming, like "I am lucky to call them mine."

And if still whoever is the culprit does not get the hint, Zayne's passive-aggressiveness grows. He all out disengages from the situation entirely, "If you'll excuse us." Guiding you away with a hand firmly in the small of your back.

He doesn't blame you, he expects it. After all what he said is true, he knows he's lucky to have you. The night ends early, as he takes you back to his apartment. When you're alone, he's clingy. Hands on your face, then your hips. He kisses you more than usual, muttering compliments like curses, "I should have known with you being so beautiful." or "Let me show you how perfect you are."

Needless to say, you don't get much sleep.

It takes Xavier a moment to realize what is going on, but after he puts the pieces together his stance changes. His normally casual slouched posture straightens. His eyes, blinking away in errant contented sleepy thought a moment ago, are now sharp. He takes your hand.

If that is not enough his astonishment grows. He doesn't understand why someone would flirt with you when he is right there, holding your hand. And now you're starting to look uncomfortable. He fixes the stranger with a harsh glare.

And when that is ignored, he falls into the strong tone of a legendary Deepspace Hunter, who doesn't share his paramour with anyone. "We'll be leaving now." He pulls you away, grip tight on your hand not caring if he has come off as rude.

The two of you head off together, stopping at one of your favorite sweets shops as you do. Xavier is red in the face, and keeps glancing at you. He apologizes, saying "I could have handled that better." But his tenseness loosens when you kiss him, because at the end of the day you're going home together.

Despite his casualness, Rafayel notices the moment the first flirtatious comment leaves the stranger's mouth. It instantly becomes a competition, because Rafayel knows all of your favorite things. He's learned them happily over your time together. 

So each attempt at flirting is met with his own more dramatic attempt. The stranger compliments your hair, so he wraps it around his fingers and brings it to his mouth with a wink. The stranger says you look pretty, so Rafayel exclaims you are the most beautiful muse he has and will ever have. 

The two of you end up making a bit of a game of it, until eventually the stranger gives up and leaves. When he's gone Rafayel laughs, "Did he actually think he had a chance?" 

You laugh, and happily kiss him. It doesn't matter that you're at a party. You're with your love, and Rafayel is happy, smiling wide, grinning too often and never leaving your side.

[puffcap-factory]

Of Vines and Grapes (Diluc x Reader)

Diluc x fem!reader; fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort, established relationship (marriage), heartwarming. Diluc is a gentle sunlight.

You had small arguments this past few days with Diluc, and since he was busy with work and hadn’t got the time to sort it out, you planned on giving a little gift for him to lift his mood.

Kaeya appeared as a cameo btw

Words: 2.6k

Notes: 

It’s been a while! The draft of this fic had been resting since like a week ago, but yesterday I decided to continue it, only to realize that April 30th would be his birthday lol. And the funny thing is his birthday art somehow falls perfectly to the setting of this story purely by coincidence xD

Anyways, enjoy the story! :D

•~•~•~•

You twirled your cup with one hand, the sweet aroma of grape juice filling your senses as your eyes shone towards the purple liquid. You could tell the freshness and the sweet scent emanating from your glass, a freshly handpicked grape juice.

“No wonder Diluc dotes on you so much, huh…”

You looked up at Kaeya, who was sitting casually in front of you, one hand supporting his chin as he smiled at you.

“Well, it’s just pure coincidence that I prefer grape juice rather than wine.”

“That’s not my point…,” he exhaled amusedly. “How unfortunate that you miss out on the fun in wine tasting, though.”

You were never a fan of wine in the first place, as you had always preferred something sweeter – like fruit juice. Although Kaeya sometimes teased you about your childish preferences, you were really keen on these drinks. 

This wasn't the reason you initially grew close to Diluc, though. However, upon discovering your likings towards grape juice, he granted you the liberty to manage your own section of the vineyard, specifically cultivated for grape juice rather than wine. You took the opportunity to try experimenting with different soils and fertilizers – much to your own curiosity, hoping to yield a slightly different taste with each attempt.

And now, one of the freshly picked grapes rested in your hand—sweet, velvety, with a hint of sourness, just as how you liked it.

“Mm, I'm sure I'm not missing out on anything,” you smiled as you stood up from your seat. Kaeya shrugged playfully in response.

You had been working as a librarian alongside Lisa in the Favonius Library, although you were not a member of the Knights of Favonius yourself. Though your works – well, practically circulating among them. Just like this evening, you were seated in Angel's Share, as Kaeya had requested some documents from you.

Business matters aside, you lingered a bit longer, planning to craft your own drink from the new batch of grapes you had brought to the tavern, intending it as a gift for your beloved.

You went up to the counter, where Charles had allowed you to enter. Kaeya followed you and sat across you on the counter seat. 

“So, how have things been lately?” Kaeya mused, observing as you gathered your mixtures.

You sighed at his question, shifting your gaze from Kaeya to the table. Truth be told, it had been somewhat tense these past few days. Diluc had been occupied with his immense work, and you two did have some petty arguments – mainly fueled from the work stress. While most of them ended with either of you giving up on the argument, you hadn’t had a proper talk with him.

“Well, it’s... alright, I suppose,” you attempted to downplay it.

Kaeya raised an eyebrow, sensing your change in demeanor. “Your expression suggests otherwise.”

Ah, right, he was good at reading people. 

“…I mean, he’s pretty busy lately, and we had few disagreements in these past few days, so…,” you reluctantly admitted, lowering your voice as you added fresh mint leaves into the glass as a finishing touch. “That’s why I’m preparing this drink for him as a small gift. There’s a new batch of freshly picked grapes this morning. I hope he’ll like it.”

You then handed the mixture of drink you had mixed to him – a fizzy, sparkling grape juice. “Try.”

Kaeya’s gaze lingered on your face for a moment, before taking the glass and took a sip of it. A playful smile appeared on his face as he set the glass down. 

“Too sweet for my liking.”

You shot him a sulking glare, which he returned with a grin.

“…But, I’m sure he’ll love it,” he reassured, his tone lower than usual. “He can be a bit of a pain in the ass at times, I know, but he’ll definitely appreciate your effort. I know his taste.” He winked playfully at you. 

You let out a small laugh at him. “Okay, I’ll believe you this time, Kaeya.”

•~•~•~•

You made your way back, carrying a selection of ingredients from Angel's Share, having obtained Charles' permission beforehand. Upon entering the manor, Adelinde greeted you with a warm smile.

“Welcome back, my lady,” she said warmly, helping you with some of the items you had brought. “Oh, and what’s this?”

“Some ingredients for a grape juice mix,” you explained, removing your jacket and hanging it on the rack. “Diluc’s been pretty occupied lately, so I thought making him a drink might give him a little boost.” You grinned sheepishly.

“How thoughtful of you,” Adelinde smiled, though her expression faltered momentarily. “…Unfortunately, the young master will be home pretty late today, as far as I know.”

“Oh,” you replied, unsurprised. It wasn’t uncommon for him to return home late or become absorbed in his work until the late hours in his study. “That’s alright, I’ll just prepare it when he’s back.” 

“Of course, please feel free to come to the kitchen anytime,” Adelinde bowed before excusing herself. After dinner, you made your way up to your shared bedroom. 

As you showered, your mind drifted back to the events of the past few days. The arguments you had few days ago was pretty trivial, honestly, with the recent one being two days back. Yet, as you attempted to assert your point, Diluc’s cold dismissal of your concerns stung. The tension that followed had left you feeling upset, but you chose to let it go rather than push the issue further.

Yesterday, you didn’t have the chance to talk through about it as the interactions were limited to brief exchanges of good mornings and goodbyes, leaving the unresolved tension to linger. By the time he returned home, you were already fast asleep. 

Though you were no longer upset now, you wanted to clear the tension between you and him. Hence, you had prepared a small surprise for him today: your original crafted grape juice drink. With the start of the grape harvest season yesterday, you wanted him to try the grapes that you had tended yourself. 

Settling comfortably onto the bed, you took out a book you had been reading, waiting for Diluc's return. Around 11 pm, you heard footsteps approaching from the hallway. The bedroom door creaked open as Diluc entered.

"I'm back."

"Welcome home," you replied, remaining seated on the bed as he went changing clothes near the closet and then heading to the bathroom.

"I'll be continuing my work in the study after this. It might get late, so you can go ahead and sleep," he informed you before disappearing into the bathroom for a shower.

As expected, he still had work to attend to. Seizing the opportunity, you swiftly made your way to the kitchen to prepare the drink. It didn’t take much time as you had prepared it previously at Angel’s Share. 

You went back up to his study, placing the drink on the side table near his work area carefully, before another idea struck you. Instead of interrupting him mid-work, why not leave a note for him to read anytime?

Grabbing a piece of paper, you quickly penned a brief message:

“Here’s a drink for you, made with freshly picked grapes! I know you have been busy lately, and I’m sorry about the day before. Hope this can get you a little boost for your work :) Love, y/n”

Neatly folding the paper, you placed it beside the glass before slipping out of the room. Walking on the hallway, you glanced downstairs from the second floor and saw Diluc – already out of the shower, talking with Adelinde. Good, he didn’t seem to notice your presence in the study. With a sense of relief, you returned to the shared room to continue reading your book, before falling asleep not long after. 

•~•~•~•

The next morning, you stirred awake to the gentle sunlight filtering through the curtains, warming your face. With a soft groan, you shifted toward Diluc's side of the bed, only to find it empty. Your heart sank momentarily, assuming he had already left for work, but then you heard the sound of him emerging from the bathroom. Moments later, Diluc appeared, his eyes immediately finding yours as he noticed you had awoken up. He approached the edge of your side of the bed and sat on the side.

“Good morning,” he greeted you with a tender smile, settling beside you.

“Morning,” you replied, still groggy from sleep. “Did you even get any sleep?”

“I did. Don’t worry, love.”

Love. The word, spoken after a period of tension, reassured you, melting away the lingering tension. It seemed he had read your message, after all.

His hand reached out to caress your head, and you leaned into his gentle gesture, a smile gracing your lips. His smile was tender and warm like the sun, a sight you had missed dearly.

Not long after, he withdrew his hand and spoke softly. “I wanted to apologize for the previous day. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

“Oh, um... I'm sorry too, Diluc. I let my frustration get the best of me.” 

“But that doesn't excuse my behavior. I wanted to talk to you yesterday, but my work wasn't finished, and I thought it was already late night. I made you wait... I'm sorry,” he confessed, his expression weighted with guilt.

Diluc was never an expressive person, though he had opened a lot more since you two became a couple. By nature, he was private, and a rather prideful man, too – but you knew his intentions were always genuine. Sometimes, in moments of disagreement, patience was key; he, too, was striving to find common ground. After all, that was what partners should do, and despite his reserved nature, your love for him remained unchanged.

You took a moment to see his face from the side, before you reached out to cup his cheek gently, meeting his eyes with understanding. “Oh, Diluc, it's alright, love.”

His eyes closed briefly, feeling the warmth of your touch. With the sunlight casting a golden glow on his figure, highlighting the contours of his face and the soft strands of his still untied velvet hair, you couldn't help but marvel at his beauty.

Without realizing, you found yourself momentarily speechless, mouth slightly agape, as you admired the scene before you. Diluc noticed your reverie and raised his eyebrows in confusion. “Hm?” he inquired, his expression puzzled.

“Oh—” you chuckled shyly, realizing you had been caught in a moment of awe, “you’re just too beautiful.”

He was a bit taken aback by the sudden compliment and let out a low chuckle. He then shifted slowly to join you on the bed, resting behind you.

“I love you.”

He murmured as he hugged you from behind, his head nuzzling behind your neck.

A warmth spread through your body as his breath tickled your skin. Like the comforting rays of the sun during the day, his displays of affection always had a way of melting your heart, even after all this time.

“I love you too, Diluc,” you whispered softly, gently holding onto his arm and closing your eyes, savoring the moment.

Before long, Diluc, still nestled behind you, spoke up. “The fruit juice was really delicious. I liked it very much. Thank you.”

“Oh, I'm glad you enjoyed it. We can make more together,” you suggested. “…if you're free today, of course.”

“I’m free throughout the day. I've delegated the work to Elzer and the others.”

“Really?” You turned to face him in surprise. It had been weeks since you spent the day together, and you practically couldn’t hide your excitement anymore. Diluc had known that it was a day off for you today, and maybe he had planned this all along.

He nodded, returning your excitement with a smile of his own. “It's a beautiful day. We can pick some grapes if you'd like.”

“Absolutely! And we could have a picnic outside too!”

“Sounds wonderful,” Diluc chuckled, amused by your sudden burst of enthusiasm. “Let’s have breakfast outside, then.”

•~•~•~•

Under the shade of a tree, the picnic sheet was laid out, sunlight warming your feet near the section of the vineyard you tended. A basket overflowed with freshly picked grapes was placed on the mat. Beside it, your much-loved grape-jam pie which Adelinde had brought – apparently it was requested by Diluc yesterday night, according to Adelinde herself – rested atop a small foldable table, accompanied by cups of tea.

You plucked a grape and tasted its sweetness. “Sweet and fresh, just perfect! But this one…” You fed Diluc another grape. “A bit more sour, isn’t it? I had used another fertilizer for this one.”

“Mhm,” Diluc agreed, his gaze filled with adoration as he accepted the grape from your hand.

“Perhaps the sour ones would be better suited for a different type of drink,” you mused as you thought to yourself.

“I’d happily try any creations you come up with,” Diluc remarked as he shifted to the back, leaning back comfortably against the tree trunk, inviting you to rest your head in his lap. “Come here, love.”

You beamed a smile at him before settling onto his lap, his hand moved to cup your cheeks, caressing it gently. 

“Hmm, I could easily fall asleep like this…”

“Then maybe you should,” he said, his tone soft and reassuring. “You don’t get many chances to sleep peacefully outside.”

“But you’ve slept less than me for sure, you should rest too, you know?”

He met your gaze with a gentle smile. “I will, I will.”

As the wind whispered through the leaves and Diluc’s caress lulled you into a drowsy state, you closed your eyes. Just for five minutes, just five–

–Huh.

You opened your eyes, only to realize that you had indeed fallen asleep. It hadn’t seemed too long, though, but you were not sure. You carefully gazed upwards, only to find Diluc sleeping peacefully, his breathing steady as he slept against the tree.

Smiling at the serene sight, you decided to stay still, not wanting to disturb his peaceful slumber. Your gaze drifted to the trees and skies above, and before you knew it, you shifted your head to the side, inadvertently waking Diluc up. He was always a light sleeper, wasn’t he?

Stretching his body with a yawn, Diluc checked his wristwatch. "One hour. That was a nice nap."

"An hour??" You sat up, surprised by the length of your unintended rest, while Diluc smiled lazily.

You wanted him to rest more, but spending the entire day sleeping outside wasn't exactly what you had in mind.

“I had a nice nap, thanks to you.” 

"Anytime for you," you replied happily, moving to sit next to him and facing him. A gentle breeze played around you, and you reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear. Diluc tenderly took your hand and pressed a kiss to it, earning a shy smile from you before his hand moved to gently cup your chin, locking eyes with you.

You recognized the familiar longing in his gaze and leaned in, closing the gap between you until your lips met in a tender, blissful kiss.

“I’d love to get more of these from you from time to time,” he murmured softly against your lips.

“The picnic or the kiss?” You teased, a chuckle escaping your lips.

“Both.” 

“Maybe you should try delegating your works more,” you joked.

“Well, that’s been on my mind, for sure,” Diluc replied, his tone thoughtful.

You didn’t expect him to take your joke seriously and frantically explained that he didn't have to do that.

But Diluc laughed tenderly, knowing that the time you spent together was far too precious to skip. 

[snowberrycherry]

More & more

parings: simon riley x afab!reader

warnings: zero plot, pussyeating, not proofread, mdni

[a/n]i might ?delete this when i wake up. just needed to spread my word🦹‍♀️. this is just another drabble ᰔᩚ

“Don’t stop Simon” you panted as his tongue thrusted in and out of you at such a rapid speed. Your head was becoming more and more hazy as each minute passed. The wet, lewd noises that resonated throughout his room as he ate you out so messily and desperately … it was nearly pitiful.

“Am I doing good?”, he said, voice muffled from your thighs tightly locked around his head. “Please tell me I am doing good”. His mouth was slobbering all over your cunt, every inch cover in his spit and slick. His eyes tightly closed shut, savoring in the moment. “Just don’t stop,” you cried out, gripping onto his soft hair. He smiled against you, humming with satisfaction, letting his tongue lick along your pussy. Without warning, he pried your legs apart, allowing him air. He pulled back slightly, breaking away the pleasure.

You went to open your mouth to protest but didn’t get the chance after seeing him let a string of saliva fall down from his mouth right on your clit. He whined at the sight, leaning back down to devour you once more. The way his tongue was swirling around you, the small noises he was making. It was all so much… all it once. The muscles in your stomach started to tighten as he continued to lap at you at no particular pattern. When his lips finally settled on your clit, sucking at it like he couldn’t live without it was when you could feel your peak coming closer. He seemed to take notice of your hips grinding faster onto his face. “Just let go” he whispered meekly, rubbing your thighs gently.

Maybe something was just in the air, but his words were inducing you couldn’t help arching your back as you saw brightly lit stars filling up your vision. You sobbed out as you came right where he needed it. He gladly cleaned up your juices, not letting one drop go to waste, drinking everything up.

You slowly started coming back to reality riding off of pure bliss. “Simon” you laughed lightly, “That was so… I’m ready for another round.”

All thoughts and musings short circuited when you felt his face push right back into you. He moaned, with a hint of shame and embarrassment tinted in his deep voice.

You loudly exhaled, desire clouding all over your senses when you felt his hot breath on your cunt. You wanted this just as bad as he did.

“I just need more”

[slayingfiction]

List of 400+ Dialogue Tags

Below is a full (but not exhaustive) and updated list of dialogue tags. Dialogue tags are a widely debated topic for writers, some saying you should only use said, others arguing the opposite. You will get no opinion for me—only a list to use as you wish :D

Some words may differ in categories based on context.

Expressing Agreement or Confirmation

Acknowledged, Admitted, Affirmed, Agreed, Apologized, Confirmed, Conceded, Gibed, Professed, Reassured, Verified, Vouched

Initiating or Continuing Conversation

Added, Began, Chimed In, Commented, Continued, Conversed, Discussed, Elaborated, Greeted, Interjected, Offered, Proposed, Remarked, Went On

Making a Declaration or Announcement

Announced, Attested, Declared, Decreed, Emphasized, Enunciated, Proclaimed, Revealed, Stated, Voiced

Formal or Deliberate Communication

Chanted, Concurred, Observed, Postulated, Preached, Put Forth, Reasoned, Surmised, Testified

Indirect Communication 

Digressed, Hinted, Implied, Insinuated 

Providing Information, Explanation or Speculation

Alleged, Articulated, Asserted, Clarified, Doubted, Equivocated, Explained, Guessed, Imparted, Informed, Lectured, Noted, Predicted, Quoted, Recited, Reported, Theorized

Expressing Doubt or Uncertainty

Doubted, Faltered, Guessed, Hesitated, Pondered, Questioned, Speculated, Wondered, Ventured

Seeking or Giving Advice

Advised, Coaxed, Proposed, Recommended, Remonstrated, Suggested, Supposed, Urged

Animalistic

Barked, Croaked, Growled, Hissed, Hooted, Howled, Hummed, Roared, Snarled 

Expressing Discontent or Frustration

Complained, Fretted, Grumbled, Protested, Ranted

Demonstrating Authority or Command

Avowed, Commanded, Crowed, Decided, Demanded, Dictated, Directed, Insisted, Instructed, Maintained, Ordered, Pressed, Proclaimed, Reprimanded

Displaying Confidence or Assertiveness

Asserted, Assured, Boasted, Bragged, Claimed, Piped Up, Pledged, Spoke Up, Told, Vowed

Exhibiting Anger or Aggression

Accused, Bristled, Challenged, Cursed, Erupted, Exasperated, Fumed, Groaned, Huffed, Raged, Seethed, Snapped, Spat, Stormed, Swore, Threatened, Whinged

Displaying Sadness or Despair

Anguished, Bawled, Bemoaned, Blubbered, Cried, Despaired, Grieved, Lamented, Mourned, Sobbed, Wept, Whimpered, Worried

Persuasiveness 

Appealed, Begged, Cajoled, Convinced, Persuaded, Petitioned, Pleaded, Prayed

Conveying Fear or Worry

Cautioned, Entreated, Gasped, Quaked, Shuddered, Stressed, Trembled, Warned

Softly or Quietly

Breathed, Called, Crooned, Murmured, Mumbled, Muttered, Sighed, Whispered

Loudly or Forcefully

Bellowed, Boomed, Cried Out, Hollered, Screamed, Screeched, Shouted, Shrieked, Thundered, Wailed, Whooped, Yelled

Demonstrating Disgust or Disdain

Cringed, Gagged, Griped, Groused, Rasped, Scowled, Sneered, Snorted

Expressing Mockery, Disrespect or Sarcasm

Dared, Imitated, Insulted, Jeered, Mimicked, Mocked, Ribbed, Ridiculed, Scoffed, Snickered, Taunted 

Doing Annoyingly

Gloated, Goaded, Nagged, Pestered, Provoked, Sassed, Tattled

Emotional or Expressive Communication

Grunted, Mewled, Panted, Quavered, Sniffled, Snivelled, Squawked, Whined, Yowled

Showing Empathy or Comfort

Comforted, Consoled, Empathized, Soothed, Sympathized

Indicating Thoughtfulness or Reflection

Contemplated, Echoed, Mused, Pondered, Recalled, Reflected, Remembered, Reminded, Reminisced, Retorted, Reiterated

Expressing Humour or Amusement

Cackled, Chirped, Chuckled, Giggled, Guffawed, Jested, Joked, Laughed, Quipped

Revealing Information

Confessed, Confided, Divulged, Disclosed, Expressed, Hinted, Revealed, Shared, Spilled, Uttered

In a Flirtatious Way

Bantered, Cooed, Flirted, Joshed, Moaned, Purred, Teased

Demonstrating Surprise or Astonishment

Gasped, Marvelled, Yelped

Indicating Hesitation or Reluctance

Faltered, Hesitated, Stammered, Stuttered

Engaging in a Dispute or Argument

Argued, Bargained, Bickered, Contended, Debated, Disputed, Negotiates, Objected, Rebutted, Shot Back

Showing Enthusiasm or Excitement

Beamed, Blurted, Cheered, Exclaimed, Gushed, Raved, Rejoiced, Sang, Squealed, Trumpeted

Expressing Approval or Praise

Applauded, Complimented, Encouraged, Exhorted, Extolled, Lauded, Praised

Speaking in a Continuous or Repetitive Manner

Babbled, Chattered, Jabbered, Rambled, Rattled On, Repeated

Questions and Answers

Answered, Asked, Cross-examined, Inquired, Implored, Probed. Prodded, Prompted, Queried, Questioned, Quizzed, Requested

Expressing Criticism or Disagreement

Challenged, Chastised, Chided, Condemned, Corrected, Countered, Criticized, Deflected, Demurred, Denounced, Scolded

Negative or Deceptive Communication

Denied, Droned, Exaggerated, Interrupted, Lied

Finishing the Conversation 

Concluded, Finished, Thanked

Neutral or Miscellaneous

Admired, Consented, Foretold, Invited, Mentioned, Mouthed, Pointed Out, Replied, Said, Sputtered, Volunteered

Don’t forget our Grand Opening Giveaway starts February 1st/24 on Tumblr, Instagram and slayingfiction.com! You don’t want to miss it!

Happy Writing!

[insomniakisses]

Could you write about how aemond would act if he found out that the person he's been sneaking around with got pregnant

Pleasant Surprises

Character: Aemond Targaryen (HOTD)

Reader type: g/n, AFAB

Warnings/notes: swear words, mentions of sex, hinted sex, pregnancy, aegon being an ass, your rhaenyras daughter u can choose adopted or not.

Taglist: @introverbatim, @neobanguniverse,

Part 2

The obnoxious sound of Aegon’s drunken cheering and stumbling disrupted the prince from his late night reading. Rolling his eye he went in search of his brother hoping to spare a maid or two from him.

Opening the door of his chambers he was met with a very disgruntled Alicent trying and failing to get Aegon to bed. Seeing the pleading look on his mother’s face he nods grabbing his brothers arm and helping drag him away.

“Its.. amazing… news… tru-ly won…derful” his brother snickers.

Confused, Aemond takes a look to his mother who seems disinterested rolling her eyes and shaking her head in response to her eldest sons mutterings.

“What is wonderful, dear brother?” He forces out, attempting niceties hoping it will help in his brother granting him an answer.

“Y/N, our dearest older sisters slut of a daughter,” Aegon snarks out, smirking when his mother inhales sharply and he feels a low rumble get stuck in his brother’s throat. “She’s pregnant, I heard her discussing it with the maesters. “

Aemond’s body freezes his mind going straight to the countless nights he had spent in your chambers, the night when it seemed the only comfort he could find was in you. And how a few weeks ago that meeting turned into something a little more intimate. Both of you needing a little more comfort, something more. He found himself flushing at the thought.

——————— T H A T N I G H T ———————

“I can practically hear you thinking” he muses, turning the page of the book in his hand.

He was not expecting the pillow that made contact with his face a moment later. A shocked chuckle escaping he grasped the pillow making an effort to move slow as he git closer and closer to where you sat on the bed. Enjoying the stifled giggles you let out in response.

He knew how easily he could spook you waiting for you to get used to his slow movements then in a swift motion he had pounced playfully hitting ur face with the pillow. Relaxing in the happy laughter you release.

“My prince! How unbecoming of you to attack a lady!” You remark at him he smirks and rolls his eyes as he pauses his assault for you both to catch your breaths.

Only now does he realise how close you are, his body pining yours down softly noses almost touching. A blush escapes on his face, matching yours that he had failed to realise.

“My lady…” he trails off feeling your hands undo his jacket, pushing it off of his shoulders. “Y/N, if you don’t stop-“ you don’t let him finish pulling him closer by his belt.

He lets out a deep groan, reaching down to unbuckle his pants and reaching to pull your night dress up and out of the way.

“Your sure?” He asks almost unsure that you really want to be with him in such way but you simply nod pulling him into a soft kiss as he lines himself up pushing into you softly.

———— E N D O F F L A S H B A C K ————

“Mother, arrange a meeting with my father the king and Princess Rhaenyra” he rushes out, dropping his brother without a care as he runs off to your chambers.

Entering without knocking freezing when he sees your mother and daemon talking to you. The former confused at his rude entry and the later with his hand on his sword ready to escort him out.

But he stands there frozen looking at you in a way he has never seen before, politely he nods his head at your mother and step father informing them there is a meeting with the king and queen consort. He steps to the side to let them leave.

The second he hears the door shut he moves yo you wrapping his arms around you and nosing at your head.

“Aemond!” You exclaim, “what are you doing?”

“Is it true? Are you with child, my child?” He asks his eye full of hope causing your gaze to soften as you nod softly. Smiling when he falls to his knees kissing your clothed stomach.

“Marry me.” Its more of a demand than a question, while you know he’d never make you do so you also know that you haven’t a choice in the matter really. Your heart swells at the idea of marrying the man you love. Your mind forgetting just how much your families dislike each other even if just for a moment.

Part 2? 👀

7/5/23 - part 2 coming soon!