#and she had the funds to make that love spill into the world around her

[bmoharrisbankofficial]

martha wayne appreciating art and architecture. martha growing up being absolutely in love with the statue of justice that sat just across the bay. martha loving the ballet and symphony and sculptures and mosaics and murals and portraits. martha commissioning statue after statue to be erected in her beloved city, dotting the sidewalks and building faces. martha commissioning one around bruce's first birthday simply and sweetly named 'to my little one'.

bruce, as an adult, as the bat, as gotham's knight and her vengeance, going out on patrol night after night and seeing all the statues martha commissioned throughout her life. bruce going through their park, the one they used to take walks in every evening, and seeing the love his mother held for him immortalized in stone. gotham itself being martha's mausoleum and a memorial to their connection.

#i feel a lot about martha wayne #i really love how they characterized her in batman 2022 with her being an arkham #someone who grew up as a piece of gotham and who fell completely in love with someone else as connected to it as she was #(speaking of which it was absolutely her uncle or grandma who commissioned the statue of justice. it's So arkham.) #she has such morticia addams vibes to me too #dark and bright and in love with life and art #and she had the funds to make that love spill into the world around her #and now bruce witnesses that love every single night #he sits amongst her gargoyles and smiling children and abstract nuclear zone esque spikes #and he can see and touch the ghost of love that she left behind #bruce wayne #batman #batman 2022 #martha arkham #martha wayne #batfam

[dari-ede]

Night Turns Into Morning: Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

MASTERLIST

Summary: Namjoon and Maya were best friends before they became an item. Both are musical artists and well known globally. Neither has ever dated someone in the same field they are in, much less work in the same COMPANY. Together, they must learn how to handle being in a private and secret relationship while trying to have a successful career. (This is a SEQUEL to "In the Middle of the Night")

STATUS: WIP

PAIRING: Idol!Namjoon x Singer!FemaleCharacter

Genre: Romance

WARNINGS: SMUT, good-girl kink, fingering, hand-job, (light) pussy-slapping, full penetration, nipple-sucking

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Walking down the halls of the complex, Maya couldn't deny the subtle stares didn't make her uncomfortable. While Namjoon's warm hand felt nicely around hers, it was hard to focus on that when at least a dozen eyes were fixated on where they were joined. It had been weeks since she had gotten back together with the leader of the biggest boy band in the world. They were still keeping their relationship a secret from the public but had agreed to be open in their private lives.

Currently, they were walking through security in their apartment complex and it was a space they had deemed safe to display some affection. Their home and their company's private halls and rooms were locations they were free to act themselves. And this was only possible due to NDAs being signed by security and staff at both locations. The community they lived in catered to the powerful and wealthy in South Korea, meaning they were guaranteed full privacy.

Namjoon had chosen this community a while ago for this precise reason: guaranteed privacy. So when Maya needed to find another apartment, he made sure to point this detail out to her. It didn't take long for Maya to agree. If the public were to find out an idol as big as RM was dating Maya, who was a well-known American artist, their company, Big Hit, would surely have a field day at its hands. Things would be chaotic.

The possibility of the public finding out about them was scary to imagine, so Maya forced herself to not think of it. She reminded herself of the little chance of their secret leaking. If someone spilled, they would then spend the rest of their days behind bars. Maya's new record label, which was also Namjoon's, had the funds to hire the best lawyers in the country and as part of Maya and Namjoon's contracts, their privacy was something the label would protect at all costs.

As Maya tried to settle herself down, Namjoon felt her uneasiness. Even though she had made great strides, Namjoon knew that it was a work in progress for her. There would always be moments her anxiety would try to beat the best of her.

He turned to her and noticed the change in her breathing. She was calming herself down.

He knew she felt his stare and turned towards him.

The moment her rich, maple eyes met his, he could feel her body fully relax. He sent her a soft smile. Her body then gravitated to his. Her head pressed against his shoulder as her other hand clutched his forearm. He could almost see her anxiety be swallowed down. That's my girl, he thought to himself. Maya was full of fight; her anxiety might win some battles, but his girl would always win the fucking war. He leaned over and pressed his lips on her head, feeling himself falling more in love with her.

The couple finally arrived at Namjoon's front door. He opened it and allowed her to enter first. They left their shoes at the entrance and walked down the halls to get to the living room.

Namjoon helped Maya take off her jacket.

It was late January and the weather was still pretty cold, would be for another few weeks.

"Want me to put your stuff in the room?" he asked as he motioned to the suitcase and bag on the floor. She had brought them in earlier in the day.

With her family in town and taking over her apartment, Namjoon had suggested she stay at his place for the time being.

She nodded. "Want some of the wine I brought earlier?"

"So I can get drunk and you can take advantage of me?" he teased, sending her one of his dimpled smiles he knew drove her crazy. He took her stuff and sent her a wink.

"You're lucky you're cute," she said, sending him a mocking glare then walked into his kitchen to find some glasses.

Just like during their first try at a relationship, Maya had given Namjoon control over when they were ready to take their physical relationship to the next level. She wanted him to be fully comfortable once they decided to have sex again. The only thing she asked was for him to be completely honest and sure. While he didn't believe in regrets, there was such a thing as learning from past experiences. He never regrated having sex with Maya but did think that they might have started things too quickly.

During their breakup, in the heat of anger, Namjoon had told Maya they shouldn't have had sex so soon but he hadn't fully meant it. Since they got back together, they talked about it at length. He wanted to be physically intimate again, but he wanted to make sure their heads and emotions were in the right place before they did so. He wanted their relationship to be more solid before they took that step. Also, he wanted to wait for the perfect moment.

And tonight felt right. Everything had been perfect. His parents and Maya's aunt and uncle, who she loved like parents, had a lovely dinner together. They all got along splendidly. There had been a lot of laughs and warmth as the six shared food with one another. This had been what Namjoon wanted: a full closeness with her. And he felt the way to do so would be to further bond with her surrogate parents and for her to get closer to his.

They had been working on strengthening their relationship—being more open with each other and expanding their communication. Emotionally, they had become incredibly intimate. Maya had been the one who struggled with vulnerability, which had been the reason for their breakup less than two months ago. However, after restarting therapy, she started to heal old wounds and was able to allow Namjoon in.

Namjoon was now seeing a completely different side of Maya. Every time she was honest with him, every secret she revealed to him, every concern she voiced made him want to fall to his knees and worship her. And because his emotions were getting more intense with her, it was more difficult to control his body around hers.

And after the perfect night they had, there was only one way to end it.

After placing Maya's stuff on the left side of his room—which was the side she took—he walked back to the living room and noticed two full glasses waiting on the counter.

He raised his eyebrows at her in mock surprise. "That's a lot of wine, no?"

"You have a high alcohol tolerance," she commented. "Don't pretend you don't."

"I'm worried about you," he said, reaching for a glass.

"The Latina blood runs powerful in these veins, baby." She took the other glass.

He let out a chuckle and raised his glass to her.

She tapped his glass with her own.

As they drank the wine, Namjoon took notice of a slight shiver coming off her. He turned to her arms and noticed the goosebumps.

Full concern took over. "Babe, you're freezing." He turned towards the thermostat.

"No." She said quickly, taking hold of his arm. "It's ok."

"It's not ok. Look at you." He reached over and rubbed her arms. Sure enough, she was cold to the touch. He knew he ran on hot, so she always felt cold to him.

"I'll put on a sweater," she whined as she kept him from moving away.

"But you'll be cold tonight. You know it takes a while for the ondol to heat the place."

A small look of sadness appeared on her face. "But then you'll be hot."

"I'll sleep without covers," he said simply, pulling away and walking to the thermostat.

But it wasn't that simple. Maya knew that if he got too hot, he would be too uncomfortable to fall asleep...and wouldn't sleep close to her.

And there lay the real reason and issue. There was a secret Maya was keeping from Namjoon. Something she had discovered long ago but had been too embarrassed to admit. However, Dr. Rob's voice made its way to her head.

"Any time you feel something but hesitate to voice it to Namjoon, I want you to take a step back and ask yourself what is preventing you from sharing that emotion with him. Is it due to legit concern or could it be the fear of rejection that's keeping you from opening yourself to him? If it's the latter, take a breath, and voice it to him. However little it might be."

She took a breath and ripped the bandage. "I sleep better when you're holding me."

Namjoon was in the middle of fidgeting with the thermostat and stopped abruptly when she spoke. He turned to her, giving her his full attention.

Taking another breath, Maya further explained. "You know it's difficult for me to fall asleep. Since I was a kid. Unless I'm physically and mentally exhausted, it can take me an hour to do so. I have to either drink a lot of chamomile or take melatonin drops and I have a weighted blanket that helps, too. But when I'm sleeping with you...." She let the words hang there. A blush made its way through her neck and face.

She felt so vulnerable, revealing such an intimate thought was incredibly difficult. There was no way Namjoon was going to make fun of her, but past experiences still dictated her emotions.

Namjoon wasn't saying anything, though. He was being completely quiet and patient. He knew her well and knew where she was getting at. But it was important for her to say the words out loud, on her own. So, he waited.

Maya forced herself to look back up and continued. "I noticed I don't need any of those things when I sleep next to you. I always get cold at night, but your body keeps me warm. When you hold me, it feels like a weighted blanket." She could have ended it there but she wanted to share everything with him. "Dr. Rob mentioned years ago that my inability to fall asleep might be due to past trauma. Nights at my house were...." The memories would lead Maya to a bad place. She wanted to tell Namjoon about those stories, but not right now. She needed to focus on one subject at a time. "Not so good. I never felt safe falling asleep. It continued throughout my adulthood. Dr. Rob recommended sleep therapy, but because of the pandemic, I never went. So, I continued with my methods. But after a while of us sleeping together, I noticed it. With you, I'm able to relax. There's no danger." Her voice was trembling; her body slightly shaking. She was about to share the key part of my secret. Vulnerable information. "You make me feel safe."

There were so many tears coming down. Despite her clothes, Maya felt naked.

Suddenly, those warm arms that protected her at night were surrounding her. "Thank you for sharing with me."

She snuggled closer, bathing in his heat. She let out a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "My emotions are all over the place with you. My body feels safe with you at night, but my heart kept you away," she said, referring to what caused their breakup about two months ago.

He squeezed her. "Emotions are complicated. Just got to navigate through them."

After a while, she finally pulled away and thanked him. "It was a good day. Long, but good. My mood has been on quite a high. I signed a new contract I'm very satisfied with, we had a nice dinner with our families." She took a step back and ogled at the outfit he had on—just like she had done countless times throughout the day. "You wore my favorite suit. It was a great day."

He smiled at her, seeing the happy tears in her eyes. "It was a perfect day." His hands came to her shoulder and he pulled her closer. "It's good if we just relax for the rest of the night."

She took the lips he offered her and nodded. "I agree."

"How about we get you a bath?" His voice was gentle but his eyes were full of fire as his large hands smoothed down her sides.

Maya was pretty sure what he meant by this. "Will you be joining me in that bath?"

"Only if you want me to," he said with complete sincerity, his hands exploring her back.

"Of course I do. But will it be only a bath we take? Or will there be more?" Maya asked, giving him a coy smile.

He bit his lip in a way that drove her crazy. "Only if you behave."

The words and tone went straight to Maya's pussy, making it quiver.

Namjoon didn't have a daddy kink, and neither did Maya; however, she quickly discovered on their first night together that she did have a good girl kink. He came to swiftly enjoy the kink himself, loving how her body responded to it.

"I've been wanting to give you a bath for so long," he said, bending down so his lips hovered just above her shoulder blade. "You've been so good—I want to reward you."

Maya's pussy clenched and whimpered, turning very wet very quickly.

He noticed her shiver and couldn't help but give a sinister smile. He moved her collar down so his lips could leave butterfly kisses on her skin.

She let out a high gasp. "Namjoon." Her fingers gripped at his jacket.

"Hmmm," he murmured as he explored her exposed neck, his fingers coming to her upper back so he could fiddle with the buttons. She had on a semi-conservative dress, one that she normally never wore but had done so since they had gone out with their parents. While he preferred clothes that showed off her shoulders and curves, she looked damn good in anything she had on. Right now, though, he preferred she was wearing nothing.

"Are you sure?" she made herself ask. She hated to ask but knew she should.

He made his way to her earlobe. "Yes." His tongue tasted her pulse. When he felt her moan, he took her skin in between his teeth and bit a little. "I want to make love to you." His mouth went lower, skimming down her neck.

Another shiver went through her but then she immediately went still.

He pulled away and looked down into her rich, maple eyes. They were a little wide as she processed what he had just said. But then there was a slight look of humor in her eyes and the corner of her lips turned up the tiniest bit. He knew her facial expressions so well. He smiled, knowing how the phrase might have come out. "That came out corny—"

She giggled. "No. I mean, yes it kind of did, but I definitely didn't take it that way at first."

"Then what's so funny?" He asked not helping a chuckle from coming out.

She held back another giggle. "You totally made me swoon," she said as a light blush appeared on her cheeks. "And it was corny. If any other guy would have said that I would have walked right out the door. How the hell do you do that?"

"Do what?" He was pretty sure he knew what she meant, but his ego wanted to hear it.

"You know what." Her blush was coming back.

"I want to hear you say it," he admitted, pulling her back because she was backing away.

She let out a sigh and let him pull her back. "You have this way with words. And so many times the things you say are so simple, but you still manage to make me turn to mush." She stared up at him with an incredulous look. "'Make love'??? No one can make that sound good. Not unless you have Kim Namjoon's deep, timbre voice of course. A voice so goddamn low, it can soak any woman's panties."

It was his turn to blush. "Thanks?"

She smacked him, playfully, still looking a little shy. "We haven't done this in a while. You have to take it easy on me."

He let out a low chuckle as he dipped down, his mouth claiming hers in a soft kiss. "I'll take it nice and slow."

She felt the twelfth shudder at the last minute come over her body.

His lips pecked the tip of her nose. "How about you get ready? Bring the wine glasses with you. I'll start the bath." He didn't give her time to respond. He pulled away, squeezed her ass, and headed to his room.

Maya stood there, frozen for a moment. She smacked her face, snapping herself out of it. Walking into Namjoon's room, she took her luggage and took out her robe and fresh underwear. She didn't bring any sleepwear since Namjoon liked her in his clothes. She poked her head into the hall that lead to the bath, making sure she had full privacy as she undressed and put on her robe. Stuffing her clean underwear into one of the robe pockets, she went back to the kitchen to retrieve the wine glasses.

When she returned to the room, she noticed Namjoon standing over her things. "Where's your bath stuff?"

She handed the wine to him as she took out the items she used when she bathed. Before she could make her way to the bathroom, Namjoon blocked her. He placed the wine on his desk and took the items.

"I'll take care of it. Give me a few minutes," he said and disappeared to the end of the hall.

Maya tried not to laugh at his cuteness. As he prepared the bath, she organized the side of the bed she usually took up when she slept over at Namjoon's. She didn't miss how some of her old items were still there. Despite them having broken up for a month, he had left everything of hers where it was. Her heart fluttered at this.

"Ready babe," came Namjoon's voice.

She turned to the hall and just about let out a loud moan. The Adonis-like man she called her boyfriend was standing in nothing but a pair of boxers, his hands clutched together, covering his flat stomach.

Namjoon didn't have a model-like body but he worked out plenty. He had lost a lot of weight during their breakup, but he had gone back to the gym. His thick, muscled arms and broad chest gave evidence of that. And those thick-ass thighs showed off the fact that he cycled often.

"Stop ogling or your bath is gonna get cold," he chided, his face looking a little shy.

She walked over to him, giving him a flirtatious smile. “Kind of hard not to, handsome.” When she got to him, her hands reached out to his chest and gave both sets of his boobs a squeeze. They were so firm.

"Stop," he said, moving his body away.

She laughed and began to walk towards the bathroom.

He smacked her ass as she passed him. The robe was thin enough that she felt the intensity of it. "Hey!" She covered her ass as she sent him a glare.

"You don't like it, do you?"

"I didn't smack you. Plus, you grabbed my ass earlier."

The couple came to the bathtub and Maya just about came down to her knees. This man had lit several candles, added bubbles to the bath, and there was some soft music playing from the speaker on the sink.

Namjoon came behind her, his arms wrapping around her middle. He brought his lips next to her ear. "I'm the one who does the smacking in this relationship," he let out in a low whisper.

This time, Maya almost did come to her knees. She held tight to his forearms. "Damn you," she hissed at him when he caught her and let out a laugh.

"Let's get you inside, baby. It's full of your favorite bath salts," he explained and moved them closer to the tub. His fingers came to her belt and started to undo it.

She leaned back into his big, tall frame, loving how sturdy he felt.

His fingers came up to her neck. He began to push down the only piece of cloth that was covering her. As he pulled it down her shoulders, his lips traced her exposed skin. He was teasing her by how long he took to take off a simple robe off her. That was definitely what she thought he was doing, but in reality, Namjoon wanted to take his time. He wanted to marvel and soak in little bits of the beauty that was Maya. He hadn't seen her naked in months and he wanted to ease into it. That was the whole reason for the bath—to ease into each other again.

When her robe finally fell to their feet, Namjoon's eyes roamed over her gorgeous bust. Nipples so pretty and pointy, clearly aroused. Clearly inviting. His fingers moved forward, tracing patterns on the sides of her heavy breasts. He wanted nothing more than to bury his face in them. But he kept himself controlled. He had all night.

"Inside you go," he said to her, his hand coming to her lower back and giving her a slight push.

Maya shook her head, trying to make herself alert. She was about to take a step into the tub but felt Namjoon's hand take hold of hers. The hand he had on her waist steadied her. She understood what he was doing. Using him as support, Maya got into the tub, loving the way how hot the water felt. She was a fan of hot showers and baths; Namjoon of course knew this. He didn't enjoy the hot showers but had mentioned in the past that hot baths he could tolerate since they felt like a jacuzzi.

She let out a satisfying moan in the water as she felt Namjoon stepping in. She opened her eyes, internally cursing at herself. She was about to miss his naked glory!

However, she was quickly disappointed. "You're not taking them off?" she pouted as her eyes became level with his boxers instead of his naked cock.

Holding onto both ends of the tub, Namjoon let out a smile. "Not yet."

He almost laughed at her huff but held back. It would only irritate her. And he wanted her to fully enjoy this.

"No fair you get to see me naked—that's sexist."

He rolled his eyes and took the cup he had set aside. "I can't see anything at the moment, now can I?" he asked as he motioned to the bubbles. "Head back, please."

Another huff came out of her but she complied. She rested her head on his chest as he wet her hair, making sure he didn't get her face.

"I should have taken off my makeup," she said, helping him keep the water off her face.

"Your facial products are there. How about you handle your face and I handle your hair?" he suggested as he motioned to a spot that contained her cleaning products.

She did as he suggested. Namjoon focused on her hair as she used wipes to clean her face. She could do a full facial cleaning in the morning. She wanted to enjoy the pampering.

Namjoon was good with his fingers as he worked the product into her scalp.

"That feels amazing," she moaned as she fell into his chest.

"Good," he whispered. He took the cup again to rinse her hair, his fingers still massaging her. Once satisfied with his work, he took her bar soap and washcloth.

Maya's eyes were fully closed and lost to her surroundings, which was why her body jerked at the feel of Namjoon's hands taking hold of her breasts. She looked down and quickly noticed what he was doing. "Warn a girl next time."

He let out a low chuckle. "Just relax, girl. I got you." One of his hands contained the washcloth and was cleaning one of her breasts, while his other hand simply held onto its twin. He was gentle, once again, ensuring he took his time cleaning every inch of her. He took both of her nipples in his fingers and rolled them softly.

Maya twisted on top of him, rubbing against his groin. Her hands went behind her and she took him into her hands.

He pulled away. "It's not about me tonight, babe. Tonight's all about you," he said, his hand squeezing a breast and his fingers giving her nipple a light pinch. "Just enjoy it."

"I want you to enjoy it, too," she said, feeling her skin melting into his.

"I am." He placed light kisses on her neck. "Really."

She turned her face to look up at his. "You're not just saying that?"

He gave her a small smile. "When it comes to loving you, I'll always be fully honest with you. Promise." He pressed his nose against hers.

Her hand went to capture his neck, pulling him back to her so she could kiss him. "When you say things like that I don't feel I deserve you. You're too good."

He pushed her back so they could look into each other's eyes. "You deserve the world."

A single tear came down as stared up at him. "You are my world." She reached up to his lips once again.

The kiss was slow and steady at first. His tongue grazed her bottom lip. She let out a moan and opened her mouth, allowing him more access to her. His tongue danced with hers for a while, both of their arousals heating up. His hands went down her stomach, rubbing and cleaning her sides with slow tenderness. He got to her thighs and went at a turtle's pace, fingers moving an inch at a time. His fingers gradually made their way toward her middle.

She sucked in a breath of air once his fingers reached her center. He hadn't touched her clit or lips yet, but the fact that he was closer than before drove her wild. "Namjoon."

"Tell me," he whispered into her ear, his fingers tracing small patterns just millimeters from her clit. His fingers pressed a little harder, loving how her moan turned deeper.

"I need your fingers," she breathed out, her ass grinding onto his cock. "On my pussy."

"That's a good girl, using your words," he said as his fingers moved to where she wanted.

Her fingers dug into his thighs as she felt his fingertips finally touch her throbbing clit.

His lips came to her neck, nipping and biting her slightly. He took in her moans and increased his speed, feeling her clit pulse and grow hot. The moment her breath pitched and her back arched, he slowed down. He took her button in between two fingers and lightly pinched it.

A small sob came out of her lips when he continued to go at a snail's pace. The buildup within her was getting restless. She needed release. "Baby, pleeeease."

Her sounds made his dick hard. "What?" he asked innocently as if he wasn't aware of the chaos he was stirring inside her. "My fingers are on your pussy."

She dug her nails into his upper thighs, making him inhale sharply. "Inside me."

"All you had to do was ask," he said then his fingers further down. Once they reached her opening, he felt her relax a little.

He pressed his middle finger into her inner lips, moving it up and down, exciting her. His pace was steady and firm. After a few strokes, he then moved into her opening. Then, ever so gently, his fingertip went inside of her.

They let out a moan in unison, each loving the feeling for different reasons.

Namjoon could feel Maya's walls pulse around his finger as they swallowed it in. Maya's restlessness tamed at his touch.

His finger moved in and out of her, loving the way it made her ass rub harder against him. He was sure if she kept it up, he was going to cum in his boxers. However, he pressed down his orgasm and focused on bringing her to full satisfaction. She had taken enough teasing from him. She deserved a bit of release.

Using another finger, he inserted it inside her and picked up the pace. He went a little harder on her, knowing how quickly she came undone when he did so.

Having two fingers stimulating her caused Maya's toes to curl. Her climax was just a breath away. She could feel it. She could taste it.

Namjoon's strokes became a little rougher and harder. His other fingers pressed onto her clit and rubbed at a fast and hard pace.

Maya's legs began to quiver at his touch. "So close."

His fingers curled in, grazing at a special spot inside her. His fingers went further in, the tips pressing against that spongy sack. "Come on, baby. Be a good girl. Cum for me."

Her entire body jerked and exploded above his as she finally reached her climax. Her heart raced; her skin caught on fire. God, she almost forgot how good this felt.

While her toys and her fingers had kept her satisfied the last couple of months, nothing compared to when Namjoon brought her to fruition. When she self-pleasured herself, it was all about physical hunger and an itch she needed to scratch. With Namjoon...it was always more than that. It was always physical, of course, but the emotional element she brought out of her added an extra layer of bliss.

It took a couple of minutes for Maya's body to calm down and for her breaths to become steady. All the while, Namjoon's hands caressed her, helping bring her down to earth.

Once settled, she cuddled against him, rubbing her head to his neck.

"Have you come back to me?" he asked, his hand making circles on her stomach.

She gave a simple nod. "I think it's time for us to get to bed." She turned her neck and pecked his chest.

"Yeah?"

Another nod.

He pressed her back a little, signaling her to move forward.

She obeyed with a pout. He made his way out of the tub and she was quick to notice the tent on his boxers. She really needed to fix that once they got to bed.

He dried himself quickly and then offered her his hand. Taking it, she got to her feet and held onto both his hands as she climbed out. She didn't miss how he stared at her naked frame for a good, long moment before he wrapped a towel around her soaking skin.

Taking his time, he dried her hair, his eyes mostly on her tits and pussy than where he was drying. She didn't mind. Her eyes were feeding on his own titties and arms. He had wrapped the towel around his damn middle so she couldn't drool over his tent.

After drying her skin, he took her robe off the floor and tied it around her.

She turned to the side and noticed the wine. "We forgot about that."

He took the glasses and offered her one. "One last sip, so they don't go completely to waste."

"It lost its fizzle," she argued.

"Just one sip," he urged.

She rolled her eyes. Of course, he wouldn't want to waste an expensive product. She gave in and took a good, long sip. She knew if she didn't, he would only have her drink more.

He took one more sip himself, making a face as he gulped.

Maya laughed. "Told you."

He set the glasses back down. "I'll clean all this up tomorrow. Promise."

Maya knew he said it because he knew she had a bit of a cleaning problem. It's not like she had OCD, but messiness did bother her a little.

He offered her his arm to take. She did so and forgot about the mess they were walking out of. Together they made their way down the hall and to his bed.

Once they arrived at the foot of the bed, Maya turned towards Namjoon and tugged at the towel around his waist. "Your turn," she said with a coy smile.

He smiled back at her but took her hands in his. "Maybe another night. I told you; tonight is all about you. I meant it."

"But I like giving you attention. If this is about me, then shouldn't you give in to my wants?" She sulked.

He chuckled. "Tonight being about you has nothing to do with giving into your demands. Even if you do look super cute pouting."

Maya narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't call me—"

He shut her up with a heated kiss. His fingers threaded into her hair as he pulled her roughly against his body.

Maya forgot about what she was arguing about. His lips worked magic and made her forget everything else.

His fingers came between them and untied her robe. The cloth was on the floor in under two seconds. All that foreplay in the tub was making him want to be inside her. Soon.

It was only after she was fully naked that she was then allowed to tug at his towel and push down his boxers. She might not be able to go down on him tonight, but she was grateful that she could at least touch his thick member.

Her hands took full advantage, wrapping around him and squeezing him.

The action caused him to pull his lips from hers to let out a hiss.

She took the opportunity to bend her head and look down at his throbbing member.

God, he was fucking gorgeous. He was so thick and hard and had a nice girth. Using her tongue and mouth, she gathered a good amount of spit and aimed. The liquid fell off her mouth and landed at the base of his cock. She heard him let out another hiss once it made contact with his skin. Using her spit as lube, she moved her hands up and down his length, taking pleasure in hearing his sounds.

She took the head of his cock and twisted her wrist during her movements. Her thumb pressed onto his piss slit. Her other hand reached beneath him and took hold of one of his balls.

"Shit," he hissed. He couldn't contain himself anymore. It had been a mistake to let her touch him. Just as he knew her body well, she knew his.

He took hold of her curvy waist and lifted her easily.

A squeak escaped her.

He dropped her down on his bed. She read him well and went further up the bed. Once she was settled at the head and lying on the pillows, Namjoon simply stared at her.

"Shit, baby. You're beautiful," he said as his eyes tried to take in all of her.

Her eyes dropped to his member, standing fully erect and pointing right at her. It looked furious, needing a pussy to settle inside of. Her pussy only got wetter at the anticipation. "You're one to talk." She reached for him. "Come here."

His knees came to the bed and he crawled over to her, his body moving above hers. "I wanted to take this slow. But you're making it difficult."

She bit his lip, loving how he hovered above her. "Sorry."

He shook his head. "Not being a really good girl."

A loud moan came out from her lips.

Using his legs, he maneuvered her, making her spread her legs wide open. "Bad girls get bad treatment, did you know that?" His hand boldly pressed through her lower lips then came down with a light smack.

Maya almost came for the second time right at that moment. "Fuck!" Her hips twisted underneath him; her hands reached up to take hold of his forearms to keep steady.

He did it one more time, loving seeing her come apart.

She dug her fingernails into his skin, letting out a hiss.

He took hold of her thighs and pushed her legs straight up. Using one hand to hold her that way, he took his cock in his other hand and pressed the head of his cock onto her opening. "You on the pill, baby?"

She mewled. "Mmm-hmmm."

Both had a breeding kink. He knew once he put his dick inside her, it was going to be difficult cuming anywhere else other than her pussy.

He stroked his member against her pussy lips a few times, wanting her wetter. He was fairly big and they hadn't been sexually active for so long. He wanted this to be as easy for her as possible, which meant she needed to be as much around as possible.

Placing his cock head on her clit, he used two fingers to stretch her. Her walls welcomed him, squeezing his fingers. He pushed knuckle-deep, easily due to her arousal. He pulled back and came back inside her with a third finger.

"Yeeeesss," she moaned, moving her hips. She didn't have control over her legs since he was still holding them straight up, so it was the only thing she could do.

After several rubs, he pulled his digits out and placed the head of his cock onto her entrance. Her hole easily took him in. He felt her squeeze around him. "Easy, baby."

"Want you in," she moaned.

He pushed in a little further and her cunt suckled everything he gave. "Shit, you feel better than I remember," he let out as he pulled out slowly.

A whimper escaped her top lips. "Want you fully in," she nearly begged as she wiggled her hips. Hated that he had control over her legs. She wanted to wrap them around his waist and push him further in. Bring all of his long inches inside of her.

"We got time, baby. Just enjoy it." With the same slow rhythm, he moved back into her.

He continued at this pace for far too long, tipping her near the edge but not allowing her to fully fall. The slow strokes allowed the lube he needed to go balls-deep but also made the knot in her stomach go insane.

Maya felt insanely stretched. Even though she had been playing with herself lately with a dildo almost as big as Namjoon's cock, nothing could have prepped her for the real thing. There was something about Namjoon's cock that hit every sensitive area in her. It was long enough to pound a sweet spot deep inside, but not long enough that made the experience more uncomfortable than pleasurable. Its girth was thick enough to stretch her in sweet ecstasy, but not too much for it to be considered painful. And that thick vein along the underside of his length rubbed her walls just right. He really had a Goldie Locks kind of cock that complimented her pussy just right.

He popped his dick inside and pulled out almost immediately. Then, ever so slowly, he would press back inside her, only to pull out until just the head was inside her. He waited a few moments and pressed into her in a rough stroke. He pulled back out slowly once again and came back in with the same excruciating pace.

"Goddddd," she whined.

He moved her legs to her side, his cock hitting another sweet spot. "Ready to cum, baby?" His hips pushed forward, hard and rough, igniting a gasp out of her. He smiled.

"Yes," she moaned out. "Please." She reached forward and took ahold of his forearms. She had better control of her hips now, so she twisted them with desperation. "I need you."

He finally quickened his thrusts, loving the feel of her wetness and tightness around him. "You feel so fucking good, baby."

His movements were now causing squishing sounds to come out of their joined organs. She felt a gush of wetness coming out of her at hearing this. "Oh my god."

As he went faster, her boobs began to move. They looked so fucking appetizing. He bent forward and took one of her breasts into his mouth, sucking on her nipple.

Reaching out, she scratched at his chest. Her mouth opened to let out another sound, but she found her voice got stuck in her throat. He was hitting a spot that felt so damn good, it was causing her to go voiceless.

Seeing her mouth so wide open, he caught drool coming out of the corner of her mouth. Fuck, that was hot. He pulled his lips from her tit and sat straight up again, taking hold of her thigh and using it as leverage to pump faster into her. He could feel his balls tighten. He was close. But he wanted more time.

He moved her legs again. He spread them wide on either side of him but wrapped his hands on the front of her thighs to keep her from wrapping around him. He used this new angle to grip her and pull her towards him harder.

This new angle allowed him to have a great view of her bouncing breasts and face that was full of ecstasy.

Bucking her hips vigorously, she felt herself getting to the edge. "Almost."

He let go of one of her legs, moving his fingers to her clit. His fingers moved at the same vigorous pace as his hips. "Come on, baby."

Her eyes rolled back as her spine arched against his body. His cock was hitting such a honied area and his fingers were working beautiful magic on her. She was on the very tip, ready to erupt around him. His voice and words duplicated the amount of energy she was about to send out.

He bent at the waist, his rhythm never changed, and whispered ever so deep, "Be my good girl. Give me one more."

Her entire world came apart. Light no longer existed, touch and feel had ceased to exist.

Feeling her walls tighten around him, her body quiver underneath him, and hearing her let out a strong wail was all he needed. He pressed forward one last time and felt himself spill inside her. His body too shook from the intensity.

She let out a moan at the feel of his seed. Her arms wrapped around him, inviting his full weight on her.

He stayed like that, on top of her, forgetting how much he weighed. She just felt so nice underneath him. Her softness felt like a pillow.

It took a couple of minutes for him to realize he was probably crushing her. He immediately pushed off. "Sorry, babe."

She let out a small whine. "Mmm. You felt nice." A shiver came over her body at being separated from his warmth.

He noticed her coldness and pulled her to his chest, warming her.

She let out a sigh and snuggled. "So that's what making love is?" she asked, a little chuckle coming out.

He smiled at her teasing and kissed her forehead. "Did you enjoy it?"

She nodded. After several moments of silence, she spoke again. "You won't put on the ondol tonight?" There was a hint of concern in her tone.

"Well, it is winter. If I leave it off, we'll freeze to death," he teased. "But I'll keep it low. I promise."

Her next words were just above a whisper. He was certain she was falling asleep. "I just don't want it to be too warm. If I'm too warm, my body won't need you to keep warm. And I want to need you."

Other than when she told him she loved him, no other words she had said had moved him like this. He bent down and took her mouth into his.

Even as she was half asleep, she still felt the passion. They'd had plenty of intense, hot kisses. But this one reminded her of that first one they shared when they got back together. It was beyond passion. Beyond longing. It was full of love.

He pulled away slowly. "I want you to need me, too."

She smiled at him, her eyes heavy and closing.

He kissed her shut eyelids, marveling at her beauty. "Mai?"

"Mmmmm," she barely let out.

"I love you," he said with his full heart.

"I love you," she breathed out, her voice full of contentment. He swore that if she was a cat, she'd be purring.

----------------------

NOTE: Unsure when Chapter 2 will be posted. I'm still mapping out the story and I tend to prefer writing a big chunk of a story before I start posting it, so it might take a while. 

#rm smut #rm x reader #rm fanfic #idol!rm #IntheMiddleOfTheNightSequel #rm x oc #namjoon x maya #bts fanfic #bts smut #idol!RM #idol!Namjoon #rm x foc

[dailydemonspotlight]

Day 13 - King Frost 

Race: Tyrant

Alignment: Dark - Chaos

April 5th, 2024

Today’s demon of the day stands as the king of winter, lord of snow, and a man with reign over all things cold- the tyrannical master of the Jacks and Frosts, King Frost. Based mostly off of the visual pun of a jack in a playing card set needing a king, the lord of all things frosty also has quite a bit of folklore behind him, all originating in a somewhat obscure short story made by Margaret T. Canby in 1873, as part of a collection of tales by the name of ‘Birdie and his Fairie Friends.’ 

In the story, King Frost is far from a tyrannical ruler, however. As the story goes, the King lives in a cold country far to the North, a place where snow always gathers. A kind and generous king, he was ruler of all fairies in the north, snow sprites and other such things carrying out his duties and bringing joy to his subjects. Even farther up, a poor old man lay, a man by the name of Santa Claus, and, seeing his desire to spread joy in spite of his lack of funds, decided to give back to the world by granting him with riches. 

Unfortunately, the fairies found frolicking to be a more worthwhile spend of their time, and soon, they had forgotten all about the glass jars of gold in their distraction. The jars, however, began to melt as the sun rose above the horizon, and as they were hidden to not be stolen, they began to spill gold and glittering gems down onto the trees around. At first, in response to their malarkey, the King was concerned… and somewhat furious. However, the instant he found the fairies… 

The gems had painted the trees and clouds in beautiful colors of vibrant red, bringing a gorgeous sight to the inhabitants of the village. The King, though upset at first, embraced the fairies in a warm (metaphorically) hug, as they had brought joy to the people of the village in spite of their mistake. Ever since that holly-jolly day, King Frost comes down from the mountain during autumn to paint the trees and skies in these colors.

Folklorically, while this is mostly a fairy tale for children, this story also has an easy connection to fall- as the story goes, each leaf’s unique color during autumn is due to King Frost painting them that way, in commemoration of that beautiful day. 

All of this goes to say, King Frost’s fairy tale is a nice, short story (that’s very charming, honestly,) that contrasts well with his portrayal in SMT. While, in the story, King Frost is a kind and caring man, King Frost is anything but- an obvious allusion to his Tyrant race, King Frost is typically portrayed as overbearing and demanding of his servants. 

Design-wise, he appears in contrast to the small and spritely Jack Frost, instead being a massive Jack in either a cape or a golden cloak, almost appearing steampunk-esque. His design feels regal and imposing, as it should, while still maintaining the signature goofiness of the Frost lineage. 

However, where there’s a king, there is a queen, right? So where is Queen Frost? Well, she does, indeed, exist… in only one form.

The Devil Children anime, an obscure Japan-only cartoon based around the Devil Children spinoff. In it, she makes her grand debut with an honestly fantastic and unique design, though she has never appeared again ever since. Without much folkloric precedent, I don’t have much to talk about when it comes to her, but I love her addition regardless, and wish she’d appear later on in the series. 

Overall, King Frost is a unique demon of the Frost lineage with a fun design and a short-yet-sweet backstory, and given his prowess in gameplay, he’s one of my favorite demons in this already favorite line of mine. 

#shin megami tensei #smt #megaten #persona #daily #king frost #jack frost #jack frost smt #hehehehehhe #the jacks will end. #eventually. #do not worry.

[deada55]

Room Temperature

for kloktober day 5: Abigail Appreciation Day

synopsis: meet Jane during an evening at home with her "gal pal" Abigail.

I wanted to flex my newfound female OC-building skills, so here's Jane, a gay club owner/real estate investor, whose situationship has taken a really weird turn.

“Exhaustion, huh?”

Jane grabbed the remote and nestled back into her spot on the couch without spilling a drop of wine. She pulled her hair from her eyes, then gathered it all to the right to keep it out of Abigail’s mouth before she let her head rest. She took a sip: the sangria she’d made wasn’t cold enough for her thirst. The clicks of the TV flickering between channels, then streaming services, shot through the rush of the city streets below.

“I’m not going to make you talk about it, I was just saying-“

“I’m ok talking about it, I just don’t get what you want me to say.”

Abigail flexed her upper back and sat up, leaving Jane to awkwardly lay against the warm spot in the throw pillows. “I’m going to take a lap.” Her footsteps across the shag carpet living room were silent. To get the subway-tiled greige bathroom door to close, she had to kick away a purple brush jammed full of auburn hair. When it clattered against the baseboard, Jane stood up to grab it, her leg hair prickling from a sudden chill.

She caught a look at herself in the floor-length mirror at the end of the hallway and shrunk. Tall as she was, moisturized, dressed in pajamas she loved (for their comfort AND the way her breasts poked the front forward, nipples prominent but casual and covered,) being there for Abigail was still tough. 

It wasn’t the way Jane’s wet hair made Abby gag, or the lethargy, or the nights Abigail came to work with her, watching queers the world over sweat and rejoice in strobe-lit dancefloors, just so she wouldn’t have to be alone with insomnia. It wasn’t not knowing, it wasn’t coming to accept that what had happened to Abigail was perfectly senseless and unexplainable. The press talked about Magnus’ suicide as an equal tragedy and it left the both of them speechless. In their bed, when they could share it, Jane’s adoration and relief came second to laying with only their feet touching, pulling different blankets around their shoulders. Jane thought she understood all that. She drove to the appointments, she cooked, she was patient, she didn’t press, she didn’t ask Abigail for anything, and she knew Abigail wouldn’t give it if it wasn’t necessary or requested. She’d save her energy, she’d heal in time, she kept moving. All Jane could do was wait and hope it kept her in the picture.

But she cheated. With a man. With an insanely rich and stupid man. 

They’d been trapped in a situationship for years, showing up at each other’s apartments, swapping spit after a couple fruity blended drinks, “networking”... Her Dethklok contract was her retirement fund. She’d lucked out. Jane kept buying properties, finding managers, firing people, selling properties for double what she paid for them, raising the property values in downtowns and abandoned sites of Dethklok’s concerts (rubble and ruins and broken glass.) 

She hoped she was over that damage of a lesbian worrying that a man could do her job better for the bisexual community, but it came back like a poorly aged joke in a favorite movie. Nathan Explosion, half-witted, spoiled, incoherently mumbling and screaming, might be better than her after all.

But nothing was too good for Abigail.

She came out of the bathroom with brighter eyes and her bathrobe tied. “Ok. You ready to watch ER?”

“Yeah. Want some edamame?” What was popcorn to salty, hot beans?

“I think I’m OK. Meet me at the sofa in five?”

“Always.”

#metalocalypse #abigail remeltindtdrinc #mtl ocs #kloktober2023 #metalocalypse fanfic #mtl fanfic #my writing

[ramblesbiab]

Do Us Part

This is a little writing piece I did! I'm very proud of it. <3

TW for lots of blood, character death, suicide

“You deserve so much better than a bullet. Of all the things to take you,” Carmine scoffs. Her ears still ring, and from outside the alley comes the sounds of anguish and flames, the stench of spilled blood wafting through the air with thick black smoke in tow. Yet the sight of her love, the deep crimson splotch under her disgusting old jacket, staining that damn white tank top that would normally cause her to grow feral. “Fucking cowards. That’s what they are, cowards waving around those wretched things like they own the world.”

“They do, don’t they?” Nyai asks. “Or have you forgotten why this fight’s taking place?” Her bangs stick to the sweat on her forehead as she groans and rests on her elbows, her skin wincing against the gravel which takes any chance to dig in. The paths of tears stain her confident cheeks. “I must admit, this has seemed inevitable for quite a while. I chose this fight.”

“You chose to be better than any other. You tamed those savages into warriors, you achieved more than any one of those pitiful resistances in our history, the ones we squashed like the bugs they were, you - you stayed. You were always persistent, you fought with a will stronger than titanium.” Carmine runs two fingers over the wound, as though to cover it will make it fade. “It’s cheap. It’s - it’s worthless. 

“Now I. I deserve it,” she continues, grabbing her love’s wrist and planting Nyai’s palm against the bloodied fabric of her dress. Fresh tears sting the corners of her eyes. “My father built the factories that pumped out guns and I took part in signing the orders to expand them. I stood behind bulletproof windows for all those years, overlooking it all, smirking at the slaughter. No better fate suits me then all but my own hand.”

“Where’s your father now? Or his dozen yes-men?” Nyai reaches up to the edge of Carmine’s jaw. “They’re behind that same glass, perhaps two layers now. If I had the funds or time I might bet they’re on a boat, fleeing to some other place instead of facing the mess they made, but Carmine, you’re here. You took a bullet for a cause you despised for decades.”

“The one you built for decades. And we both know I could not give less of a shit about the lives of your people, even if I had centuries to change my mind,” Carmine bites, not to her love but to the flaming expanse she can barely see behind the corner. She shakes her head. “None of them matter to me. No one matters any longer, whether they side with one of us or not.” Her body throbs. Something, somewhere. “You. It’s only you that I care for, Nyai.”

“And that’s why you believe I deserve better?”

“Among many reasons, but yes.” 

Nyai gives half a smirk, blood on her yellowed teeth and the cracks of her dry lips. “Come onto my lap, then.” Her voice raspy and breaking. 

“Even now you try to fluster me? Here of all places?” It pains Carmine to laugh. To find any source of joy in this moment, as she throws a leg over the splayed out, dying body of her lover. “There. You have me.” 

“As I prefer it.” Her hand drifts down to her hip, and she slips a dagger from her belt, the only clean one left. “You, too, are all I truly care for, Carmine,” she whispers. She runs her thumb against the metal. “And you say I deserve better. So I won’t die by a bullet.” Their eyes meet, Nyai’s sparkling from the everflashing lights from every direction. 

“What do you propose?” The throbbing continues, echoing through Carmine’s entire body. How she wishes the pain were silent, that she could sink into this moment, yet she isn’t a fool. She sees the way Nyai’s hand moves and feels the weight of the dagger’s handle tucking between her fingers, the soft grip slotting against her skin. 

“If I deserve better, then give it to me.” How she wants to throw the knife aside. “You’ll take it.” How she wants to stop the directing of her arm, to not see the sharp tip licking at her love’s chest. “You’ll kiss me.” How her beauty shines even now is a mystery, one that plays a symphony on the strings of Carmine’s heart. “And you’ll drive into me, right here.” 

She taps the blade down twice, parting the fabric below it into threads without effort. “Every breath, my love, I breathe for you. So my last belongs nowhere else but between your lips.” She kisses the back of Carmine’s hand, leaving what could almost be a lipstick stain, what could have been if only they lived in a different world. “I’d die by your hand a thousand times to taste your lips once. So truthfully, I’m beating the odds.”

A shiver jolts through Carmine’s body, peppering her with goosebumps and ripping the tears from her eyelids, sending them crashing down her neck. “I’m to kill you, then?” She thinks of each and every moment in her past where she told herself this was the dream above all others. How often she thought about the woman below her without ever knowing the extent of the emotions keeping her up at night, filling her mind with cruel, horrific fantasies.

Here they are now. Here a palm finds her face, and another kiss falls to the raise of her knuckles, and all noises fade but for the heave of her lover’s chest. 

“If I’m to do this, then - then you will promise me.” She nuzzles her face against Nyai’s hand. Burying her teeth in her cheek to stop the tears which keep thickening her throat. “You will promise me that death will not do us part. And it will never do so,” Carmine begs, gripping the dagger so her hand tingles and threatens numbness. “Promise to me now and forever that in every life from here on you will find me. No matter where you may be, you will - you will find me.”

“I will find you,” Nyai repeats. 

“No, promise. Do you promise?” 

“I do,” Nyai whispers. “You are the key to my soul. No other could ever fill the space you’ve created, and there’s not a single other way I’d have it. As long as you are mine I’m yours.”

“I’m yours,” Carmine repeats. She tastes blood in her mouth and loosens herself. She looks past the dagger and only to Nyai. “And while I have no control over the matter, our next life will be simple. We will be farmers in a distant land with acres all to ourselves, with a barn bigger than our home and a comfortable area on the second level where we can make love and look at the stars.”

“Can we have horses as well?”

“All the horses you could ever want. We will ride laps around our fields and rest under a tree until sunset.” She moves her hand down, nearly cringing at the greasy wetness of her lover’s hair. “We would shower together often so I could keep this clean.”

“That’s the reason why?”

“It’s one of them,” Carmine snickers and her body burns her for it. A shivering fuzz lines her vision. “I don’t wish to be away from you for so long.”

“May our love grow in time apart.” Nyai brings the dagger back into position, the heave more noticeable. “I will know you when I see you. No matter how you may look, my love, I will know.”

“And I will know as well.” She brings another hand to the knife. “I will know then and the next life, forevermore.” Carmine leans down, licking the space between Nyai’s lips. She tastes like copper and salt and perfection. “I love you,” Carmine whimpers. “I love you. I love you.”

“I love you,” Nyai repeats. “Forevermore.” 

They kiss recklessly. They’d do so until their skin grew raw and broken if time weren’t so cruel. Carmine lifts her hand, the end of the handle pressed into her dress. A dictionary runs through her mind until she realizes no word could ever fit now. No sentence, no noise. All which is left between them now is actions. So she kisses. And she kisses.

And she dives. 

“My love,” she cries. She can feel the smile on Nyai and can’t move away from it until all beneath her rests still as a stone. She sits up. Withdrawing the knife, now coated with her lover’s blood. Shining and metallic. 

Carmine can feel the adrenaline in her veins as it slowly slips away. With what energy is left, summoned from deep in her core, she screams into the sky, and her vocal cords threaten to shred. She can’t tell what lights are real anymore. 

She raises the knife. Focusing on the red. Nyai’s blood. 

She thinks of everything that brought her here. Every mistake she made, every lie she took at face value. None of it matters now. But she won’t die by a gun she sold, even if she may deserve it. 

She’ll die with her lover’s blood in her heart. 

She brings her arms in and screams again and sobs as her body quivers. Her stomach pulses. As everything fades her body falls, her head against Nyai’s chest. She swears she can hear the ghost of her heartbeat. 

Her vision grows coated in ink. With a dying whisper, the world hears her one last time.

“I love you, Nyai.” 

She dies with a smile. 

#writing #tragedy #star-crossed lovers #dark #lesbian #yuri #toxic yuri #I'm very proud of this #<3

[narcisseart]

Deora looks so pretty! How’d she get to her position as director and what’s the love story between her and Sephiroth?

Eeeeeh these are some good questions! Thanks anon!!!! This might be Long….

Director of Information Communication Technology; she was supposed to be a Turk along with her half brother, but got sick as a child, her brother then made a very serious business deal with his newly widowed boss who lost his daughter that she be taken for guardianship in return he’d be the one to continue his legacy in the Turks (in her canon story it’s only a tiny bit different) Veld then adopted her under his dead name, payed for her university degree, ( or five 👀) she then created the basis of the PHS at university ( mainly cause of Velds story of how it was a damn radio that meant kalm was bombed) this won the university grant for working at shinra in an internship under scarlet, with full funding to create the PHS. Though knowing her family, the president agreed to make her a director if she would complete the PHS for the wutai war, get a mast up in wutai and in midgar first, she would need her own department to just fox the damn things when needed. So after a year of internship under scarlet she became director. Little did the president know, she would then pretty much giveaway the designs for the masts to be free to use for all main cities ( so the PHS wasn’t just used in the war but was used as a mod con for everyone ) under her director ship, she designed the world wide network, security systems of cameras and internet security, and designed the beginning of a new system to enhance soldiers fighting potential through memories and emotions (Digital Mind Wave) but this was only stopped in human testing with a soldier recruit due to her anti shinra activity. She also released a book named ‘Technology of War’ that had anti shinra and anti war material that she hid hard enough to get past censors.

Sephiroth ; Shinra holds a gala every year to celebrate the end of year success; it’s also used for the rich invitees to put in money for certain projects and departments (if the president doesn’t give a shit to give you full funding, be nice to miss Belmont, she may give you some of her dead rich husbands money to give you full funding) Lazard and the President wanted to show off the Soldier first classes in order to show the success of the war, this was before anyone really knew what they looked like as they were around 19 at the time. Deora had just come back from university and was a +1 for veld and looking for prospects for funding for the PHS. She was overlooked by almost everyone there, Sephiroth was swamped but everyone feared him so wanted an excuse for privacy for one moment. He saw a drunk man drop his glass and spill it over her dress and saw his chance, handed her a handkerchief, took her to dry off her dress outside, they talked about how both of them grew up as orphans in shinra, he spoke of his mother, she showed interest, and she not-once was afraid of him and spoke to him like a normal person, which he’s never recognised before in the women around shinra. She noticed his eyes when he looked at her were fully dilated, like a cute excited cat, she then gave him a nick name of sour-puss cause he looked sad and grumpy. He never had a nickname before so he accepted it, they had a brief kiss before having to run back. So she wrote her address on his handkerchief, and gave it back. He then went to visit her in secret once a week, mostly would be for her to make him a big dinner, then share a glass or two of wine (then throw in some intimate time once in a while) then he headed back for curfew. Every week like clockwork. A few things happen, like when she got her scar etc but I won’t go into detail here cause I will probably draw it at some point.

[milafms]

samantha logan , she/her , cisfemale ! have you met mila james yet ? they're the twenty-six year old artist that lives around evergreen shores . i think they've lived in seattle for their whole life . from what i've heard , they're amicable but they can also be credulous if you get on their bad side . when i think of them , i usually think of tongue tied by grouplove .

* BACKSTORY !

TRIGGER WARNING ! minor mentions of home invasion and brief mention of assault .

Planned addition to the James household, the first and only child to a doting couple.

A silver-spoon upbringing, only ever knowing a life of luxuries. Anything and everything she desired was given to her, regardless of cost.

Parents showered their daughter in love, failing to ever be absent, especially when it came to momentous occasions.

Most friends within her social class were not as fortunate, their luxuries coming at the cost of present parental figures. Mila grew to learn she was lucky, and never took it for granted.

Perhaps it was just her nature, or if could be thanked on how she was raised, but Mila never developed the "brat-like" traits. The same could not be said for previous friends.

Parents always have, and will be, Mila's number one supporter. Encouraging anything that peaked her interest, and spilling the funds to ensure she has the full experience in exploration.

Sometimes, they would last only a couple of days to weeks, but sometimes they would stick. Ballet, violin and fencing were what time was most dedicated to.

Performing on stages, showcasing skills, earnt many medals and trophies. Only increasing the pride her parents had for her.

Heavily sheltered, learning lifestyles away from her own was uncommon. Seeing or learning about struggles was never first-hand.

Good intentions, behind the protection of their child, brought consequences. Mila grew to be blissfully unaware of the negativity which existed in the "real world".

When she was eighteen, parents agreed (after a lot of debate, and convincing) to allow Mila to move into her own residency.

An apartment within walking distance, humble by their standards.

New sense of independence came with risk, a young woman unaware of the dangers lurking around the corner.

START OF TW!

Couple months into residing in her own place, Mila experienced a break in, whilst she was occupying the home.

Fortunately, if it could be classed as such, she came away with only a couple bruises. Fault of being shoved by the perpetrator, landing against furniture.

Material possessions lost were not worried over, aside from one item. Her mothers locket, gifted when she departed from the family home, a treasured keepsake.

Agreement was made that she could move further away, now too afraid to stay in the location. Moving to Evergreen Shores.

Finding of a roommate was essential, now too fearful to reside alone, but still earning for the independence.

END OF TW!

Several years have passed, and whilst some days prove to be more difficult, Mila's naturally bright nature has returned.

Living off parents funds allows Mila to pursue passions in the art world, without fear of when the next pay check is coming.

Long term goals fail to be even a consideration, taking each day as they come has always been Mila's approach.

* PERSONALITY !

PROS.

Imaginative and open-minded. Mila forever has some new idea on her brain, whether that be a new skill, or adventure, and she is not afraid to venture outside of her comfort zone to experience it.

To Mila, every person is important to her, whether they are friends or not. She makes an active effort to recognise the shifts in another person's mood or expression, and does what she can to accommodate. Having a caring, and considerate, nature, and being overly sensitive to other people's feelings and needs, Mila always wants to do what she can to support others. Even if it is methods she is not necessarily acquainted with.

When inspired, typically following the introduction of a new hobby, Mila wants to share it with anyone who will listen. She is known to ramble for a little too long, but always takes into consideration what others have to say. Mila is genuinely interesting in hearing other's ideas and opinions, even if they are different to her own.

Known for talking, perhaps a bit too much, Mila rarely runs out of things to say. That being said, she still is capable of being a good listener. Mila cares about what others have to say, which can create a comfortable, and sometimes a safe, environment to converse in. It has allowed her to make friendships with a wide variety of people.

Mila finds joy in the present moment, she is spontaneous and is known to act with little thought behind actions. This joy that she finds, she always wants to share it with other, getting a greater sense of satisfaction form others happiness.

Having an approachable nature, many find it easier to talk to Mila than most. She's altruistic, with a warmth that radiates, and can sometimes attract even the coldest of people. Mila strives to get along with everyone, and this approach has allowed her social circle to grow, spreading far and wide.

CONS.

The idea of being disliked by another person brings Mila a sense of discomfort, because of this, Mila can often compromise on things that matter to accommodate. Sacrificing at the expense of her own feelings is a common occurrence. Mila can be treat like a doormat frequently, being treat poorly is something she will allow, for the sake of making another happier. Despite all these sacrifices, there are times people still dislike her, which she will lose sleep over ; wondering how she can change minds.

Interests are forever changing with Mila, and she frequently abandons newfound skills within a short time frame. Maintaining discipline over a longer time frame is challenging, and sticking with things is near impossible.

Extremely disorganized. Mila avoids boring and practical matters, struggling to focus when it comes to more important matters. It can cause issues, her parents having to bail her out on more than one occasion.

Whenever another person asks for guidance, or help, Mila will never hesitate to say yes. She has a strong desire to uplift others, but failing to set up boundaries, causes her to become overwhelmed. Becoming overcommitted, with a lack of time, causes issues.

Mila's outlook is seen to be overly optimistic. Her opinion on others is higher than most, which leads to well-intentioned but naïve decisions, believing those who haven't earned her trust. It lands her in hard situations from time to time, which is something she struggles to accept.

Outwardly, Mila always appears to be a happy-go-lucky person, rarely displaying signs of being upset. However, on the inside, she frequently experiences self-doubt. Questioning her abilities, and wondering if aspects of her life are good enough.

* HEADCANONS !

Since the incident at her first home, Mila finds it impossible to sleep alone. She does not have to have someone physically next to her, but in the same house/apartment. There are occasions, when she is having a hard day, when she feels that she needs someone besides her. It takes someone she is really close to, as it is when she is at her most vulnerable.

Being from wealth and never fully understanding the concept of expense, Mila is known to be overly generous. For those she is friends with, she is known to spoil them, whether that is with gifts, or dinner time dates. Anything that has a price tag on, she does not hesitate to cover the fee. Even if the other member of the party is fully capable for covering their cost.

Despite having what seems to be unlimited funds to decorate her home, it is not overly luxurious. She does not tend to care about whether an item is more expensive than another, only if it fits to her personal tastes. Most of the artwork hanging on walls is her own, or other artist friends, and potted plants are her go-to decoration.

Despite coming across as childlike, Mila is a hard worker and puts her all into everything she does. Sometimes forgetting to prioritise herself over work. Getting lost in paintings is a frequent occurrence, forgetting to tend to her own needs on the process, tirelessly working towards the final result.

Mila has never been above shopping, or dining, at inexpensive venues. Most inexpensive places, thrift shops or local diners (for example), are establishments she is not fully acquainted with ; parents rarely taking her. For this reason, she is more inclined to visit, always wanting to find someplace new.

To this day, Mila still actively practices with her violin. It is not something she would pursue as a career, no longer performing for crowds like she did when she was younger, but her own private concerts are something that bring her great joy. She is extremely talented, though she does not consider herself as such.

Extremely close with her parents. Mila still visits her parents at least once a week, always making the time to visit, whether it be going for a quick coffee or spending the day together. She has a lot of respect and love for them. Mila gets most of her advice from them, and values their opinion the most. If her parents like someone, they instantly get bonus points.

Avid lover of plushies, and stuffed animals. When the whole squishmallow craze was at its peak, Mila spent most of her time hunting down ones she had never seen before. Most of her collection is safely stored elsewhere, only a select few of her favourites in her room. A lot of her plushies that she treasures are extremely old and tatty, but she refuses to ever replace them.

Mila enjoys physical contact, there is rarely occasions that she is opposed to it. The type of person to link arms or hold hands with friends and is never opposed to cuddling up with friends on the couch. She respects boundaries, as much as she expects others to respect her own, even if hers a lot less than theirs.

Likes to draw on her arms and can often be seen with tiny doodles over her hands and fingers. If given the opportunity, she’d draw on other people’s arms too, usually making it somewhat personalised.

#sewa.intro

[la-appel-du-vide]

Bridal Shower - 07•30•22

And then before we knew it, the bridal shower came and went! Set-up that morning went really well (almost). Kena brought me a bride to be sash, and tea sandwiches for our London themed food. Mom and I brought the macarons for the Paris themed food, and the tropical punch we'd made for the Bahamas themed food. Beach brought chips and salsa for the Mexico themed food. We put all the food signs and photos up on the risers, which made them so much more visible. We rearranged the favorite things with an extra suitcase, and stood the rest of our signs up on easels. We filled the back of Berk's roadster with luggage, hung the "Passport Photos" sign pointing to the photo area, and got the cups, plates, and straws set out.

The only travesty... Brayden and Chelle got the punch dispenser put into the fridge for the hour or so while we set-up. When I went out to the fridge later to add a couple more things, I found that the dispenser had been pushed up against the fridge wall accidentally, and all the punch had spilled out - all over the floor and fridge. SO bad. We'd been up into the night making it, and it was all gone. Plus, it was such a mess. Hahah we should have known something like that would happen. Brayden ran to the store to get some pre-made juice instead, and poor Chelle got to work cleaning the fridge out.

It all turned out well in the end though - no one would have known there were any issues. (;

For the first 10 minutes or so, we started to get worried that no one was going to show up. But to our relief, we ended up with a great turnout.

- McKenzie and Jodi Butler

- Lisa Chandler

- Lyndsey and Heidi Brophy

- April Hales

- Mikayla, Beach, and Kena

- Aubrey, Whitnie, and Allyssa

- Jodi Mitchell and her daughter Whitni

- Jess, Bev, and Jocelyne

- Arika and Sierra

- Ann Anderton and two of her daughters

- Jackie

So fun to see so many people I love!

We spent the first hour eating snacks and socializing, and then played some games. We did a Who Knows the Bride Best game, and I missed hearing everyone's answers because I was talking with Jodi. But Kena won! And of course, Beach argued about some of the things I put hahah. Then they did a He Said, She Said game, where they had to mark whether I was more of something or Brayden - like who is the better driver, who is more organized, etc. And Beach won that one so maybe that made up for it. (;

Then we played a "What's in Your Purse" game, where they get points depending on what things they regularly carry around. And Mikayla won!

The prizes were your choice of one of my favorite things. Kena took the Fiiz gift card, Beach took a travel themed notebook, and Mikayla picked ancient world map wall art. Then we had a box of advice cards that people wrote on cute vintage postcards, and I got to draw two out for the final prizes - Sierra picked the Sharpie marker set, and Jodi Mitchell ended up with the bag of movie theater popcorn.

Next came gifts, and I got so many nice things. A crockpot, an Instant Pot, a new dish set, pans, a spice rack, a cookbook, a picture frame, a printer, a wreath, cooling racks, donations to the puppy and furniture fund, a Lowe's gift card, a Barnes and Noble gift card, some cash, etc. People are the very best.

Then we all got to go out and take photos with Berk's roadster, including being able to get in it and blow the oogle horn hahah. So fun.

Our party favor "Baggage Claim" was a biscoff cookie (like an in-flight snack) in a little paper suitcase. Just darling.

Clean-up went super easy, and overall, it was a huge success. My mom is the very best, and I'm so grateful for all the time she put into this to make it perfect for me. She really thought of every detail, including the cutest invitations I've ever seen. It's a day I'll always remember. Being the bride is just so much fun.

[starryhyuck]

pride. (m)

pairing: sugardaddy!xiaojun x reader

words: 4.7k+

summary: stacked with two jobs, tuition bills and rent payments, an opportunity falls into your lap that leaves you wanting more.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: creampie, breeding kink, semi-public sex, oral sex, degradation, overstimulation

It all started before you hit rock bottom.

When you enrolled in college and decided to study music, your parents refused to pay for your tuition as they had hoped you would pursue law instead. You’ve been passionate about music since you were younger, and financial burdens were not going to hold you back from pursuing your dreams.

You spend most school nights working a low wage job, and switch to a different low wage job on the weekends. You hardly had time to balance studies and work, but in order to make ends meet, you fill your body with caffeine and call it a day.

You’re in the middle of wiping down the counter of the campus’s local ice cream parlor, ignoring the email you received from your landlord minutes ago. It was yet another warning notice to pay last month’s rent, a task you’ve been putting off for weeks.

There’s barely anyone who comes into the shop this late at night on a weekday, only a few who have a midnight craving they have to fulfill. You’re surprised when Doyeon comes barging into the shop at half past midnight, dressed to the nines in her custom Versace gown.

She sighs and throws herself down on one of the parlor chairs. “I feel sick to my stomach. Is it possible for your intestines to hurt so much from champagne?”

You laugh at her. Doyeon was your first friend when you came to campus, and you were blissfully unaware of how wealthy she was until three months into your friendship. Her mother recently remarried and Doyeon despised her stepdad, but she never had any complaints about the money he carried with him. Doyeon’s offered to pay off some of your loans so that you wouldn’t have to work two jobs, but you always turned down her offer. You couldn’t take money from her — you had to have a little bit of pride.

“What happened now? More sleazy old men hitting on you?” You question, leaning over the counter to ask her.

“You know me so well,” she sighs, her curled hair styled perfectly down her shoulders. She removes her heels for a bit so she can breathe. “And Doyoung was complaining the entire time, pissing off my mom. You know how my brother is.”

You’ve met Doyoung once or twice, and he was very similar to Doyeon — confident, smart and not afraid to speak what’s on his mind. Doyoung had a very difficult time adjusting to their mother’s new beau.

“You know what would be nice?” Doyeon asks, eyelashes fluttering at you. “If you come with me next time.”

“You know I can’t,” you decline, moving to check on the tubs of ice cream. “I’m too busy with work and school. Can’t leave for a night of luxury.”

“But you can,” she whines loudly. “Just let me pay your rent for last month and we’ll call it even!”

You roll your eyes. “I hardly call that even, Doyeon.”

She huffs. “Please? I can’t stand to go to another one of these things and listen to those snotty people tell me how lucky I am that my mom found that douchebag. You would make it so much more fun, and save me from a night of torture.”

For the first time, you’re contemplating Doyeon’s offer. You’ve known for a long time now that you’re running low on funds, and you’re scared that if you don’t find a way to pay your landlord, he’ll end up evicting you. Your eyes glance up to meet Doyeon’s, who has her puppy dog gaze turned on.

You sigh. “Just one event. That’s it.”

She squeals, and almost jumps over the counter to hug you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you, thank you!”

You awkwardly pat her back. “Yeah, yeah.”

—

Doyeon failed to tell you that the event she was dragging you to would actually take place within a week.

You scrambled to find a dress and how to style your hair, knowing that if you showed up in an off-brand name, you would immediately look like an outcast. Doyeon saved you from the humiliation, shoving you into a Valentino dress that had your eyes rolling out of your head at the price tag. She also hired a hairstylist on the day of to come over and fix you up, which you clearly disagreed on until Doyeon told you it wasn’t up for debate.

And now, here you were, standing in the middle of the most luxurious place you’ve ever stepped foot in. Doyeon leans over to whisper to you while you’re eyeing the waiters and waitresses walking around with trays of champagne.

“Just smile and act like you only care about money.”

She tugs you forward and you try your best to match her pace. A girl approaches you two first, nails wrapped around the stem of her glass. She’s wearing one of the most beautiful gowns you’ve ever seen, a Chanel piece her mother imported for the event.

“Hyojung, you’re way too young to be drinking anything,” Doyeon scolds.

“Calm down, mom. No one’s snitching except you. Who have you brought?”

Doyeon beams and loops her arm through yours. “This is my friend from college.” She gives Hyojung your name and you offer your best smile.

Hyojung returns your grin. “Nice to meet you. Where do your parents work?”

Doyeon opens her mouth to tell Hyojung the truth, but you stop her.

“They own a few chain businesses in our hometown. Nothing too grand,” you inform. Hyojung nods in agreement, eyes darting somewhere else.

“Well, Chanwoo is here. I’m going to get the gossip that he owes me from last time.”

When Hyojung leaves, Doyeon frowns at you. “Why did you lie?” She questions.

You shrug. “I would rather not be a fish out of water here more than I already am. It’s better if people think I’m at least middle class.”

“Okay,” she says slowly. “You know I’m not ashamed of you, right?”

You giggle and pat her cheek. “Of course I know.”

“Finally!” You hear someone exclaim, and you turn to see Doyoung rushing over to the two of you. “Where the hell have you been? Mom’s going to murder you for showing up so late.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Relax. We took a long time getting ready.”

Doyoung smiles gently at you before tugging his sister away. You feel even more awkward, hands folding together as you sway in the middle of the room. The people around you are talking animatedly and you can faintly hear the sound of the violin in the back of the room. You wonder if you should pretend to go to the bathroom or find somewhere to sit-

“Never seen you here before.”

You turn to see a guy your age, dressed in a full Armani suit and Rolex watch shining under the sparkling chandelier. You awkwardly clear your throat.

“Uh, yeah. My friend brought me. Do I look that weird?”

He chuckles, running a hand through his chestnut locks. “You look beautiful. I’ve just been to plenty of these galas before and I’ve pretty much memorized the guest list.”

Your heart lingers on his compliment and you avert your gaze.

“My first one. Are they always like this?”

“Boring, you mean?”

You laugh and he joins in. You swear you feel butterflies frantically flying in your stomach.

“So, what’s your story? Also have rich parents?” You ask.

He nods. “My mother owns half of the city’s major businesses. I’m Xiaojun, by the way.” You give him your name and he smiles, motioning to the back of the room. “Want to talk where it’s a little less loud?”

You agree, smiling and taking his arm as he leads you to the less chatty part of the room. You both sit on a luxurious velvet couch, a piece of furniture that most likely costs more than your entire apartment. Xiaojun hands you a glass of champagne, his smile taking your breath away.

“Tell me a little bit about yourself,” he muses, eyeing you carefully.

You laugh. “Is this a job interview?”

He shrugs. “Could be.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his answer, but you figure rich people were always weird and vague like that. “I go to the same college as Doyeon, and I’m studying music. Not really much to say, I spend most of my time working.”

He nods, and you can’t place what the look in his eye is for.

“Music, that’s interesting. What made you decide to take on such a daunting major?”

“Daunting as in it’s not law or business?” You counter, giving him a look.

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, no judgment here. In my world, I haven’t met anyone who isn’t a law or business major. It’s nice to have a change of scenery.”

He challenges your gaze, and you feel a warmth in your stomach you haven’t felt in months. You jump when you hear the shriek of your name and Doyeon comes charging towards the two of you.

“There you are! Jesus, I had to hear Doyoung fight with my stepdad for almost ten minutes.” Her exasperation turns into surprise when she sees Xiaojun seated next to you. “Oh! Hey, Dejun. Didn’t see you there.”

He offers a smile. “Hi, Doyeon.”

“Do you mind if I pull her away for a bit?” Doyeon asks, but she’s already looped your arm through hers. You slightly protest when she tugs you away from Xiaojun, but you’re immediately distracted by her next question. “What the hell were you doing talking to him? You know what Xiaojun is famous for, right?”

You frown, looking over your shoulder again to see him, watching as his line of sight carefully follows you and Doyeon.

“No, I don’t. He seemed nice. What’s the issue?”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “He’s a sugar daddy. Always looking for new sugar babies to satisfy him. He’s been blowing through girls like the wind for the past year. He’s not good, and I don’t want you in his company without me.”

You try to process that the man you were just talking to was, in fact, scoping you out to get a potential new sugar baby. You can’t wrap your mind around it, even when Doyeon drags you to the corner of the room, where Doyoung and her stepdad are still fighting.

Your eyes linger on Xiaojun’s table, but he’s already long gone.

—

“Nice shop you got here.”

You practically jump out of your shoes at the sound of the familiar voice, almost spilling a cup of ice cream down your front. You nearly get whiplash with how fast you spin around, eyes widening at the sight of Xiaojun standing in the middle of the ice cream shop. Your manager, Seojeong, raises an eyebrow at your skittish nature.

“Is there a problem here?” She questions, but you immediately brush her off.

“No, no problem!” You squeak. You immediately rush over the counter and push Xiaojun out of the shop. “Seojeong, I’m taking my 15!”

“Um, okay?”

Once you’ve got Xiaojun on the street, you take notice of what he’s wearing - another dark Armani suit, same Rolex watch, and hair styled in a way that’s meant to make your panties drop. You push back your thoughts and whisper harshly to him.

“I know why you’re here.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Do you now?”

“Yes, I do,” you state confidently, tilting your chin up. “Doyeon told me about your little sugar daddy scheme.”

He laughs. “Ah, is that what they’re calling it now? Didn’t realize I was such a bad guy for wanting to help out girls in bad situations.”

You scoff. “Do you get off on this? Lowering yourself to the underprivileged lives of the poor? Pretending to be the hero that saves the damsel in distress?”

He snickers at your line of questioning, shoving his hands in his pockets and eyeing you. He leans down so that you’re face to face, and you falter as he becomes closer to you.

“And if I do? What if I like giving you money so you don’t have to work two jobs?”

“How do you know I have two jobs?” You inquire.

“You looked so lost at that gala. I told you I’ve memorized the guest list — you’ve never been on it. It became relatively easy to discover the rest of the details. It must be exhausting doing this everyday, haven’t you ever wanted a break?”

You fold your arms across your chest and take a step away from him. “What’s in it for you?”

He grins. “The pleasure of your company.”

“What kind of company?” You ask, doubting him. You won’t lie and say the offer isn’t intriguing to you. You still have pride, definitely, but the weight of two jobs has really taken a toll on you lately. Plus, Doyeon said Xiaojun breezes through girls anyways. You could get a break from paying your rent for a few months and before you know it, he’ll move onto the next charity case he wants to help out.

There’s no harm in that, right?

Your thoughts are blown through the window, however, when his smirk grows wider. You’re sure there’s a large damp spot in your underwear right now.

“Whatever company you like, little one.”

You’re fucked.

—

You keep the relationship with Xiaojun quiet and under wraps. You know Doyeon would have many thoughts about your choice, and she would probably convince you to let her pay your bills instead of Xiaojun. You couldn’t place that burden on her shoulders.

Surprisingly, Xiaojun doesn’t ask for much. He swings by the ice cream parlor once a week, drops off a $1000 check, stays to chat for a little, and leaves. Seojeong doesn’t raise any questions, albeit you’ve seen her glance at the envelope you leave in the back room. You would’ve thought that Xiaojun is the type of guy who invites you over to his penthouse apartment to get to know him, but he’s been quite reserved. He never crosses the line with you, and his questioning stays on the topic of your classes and work. You continuously wonder how to captivate his attention and if the other girls before you failed to do so.

About a month into the deal, your patience wears thin. You’re not even really sure why you’re frustrated in the first place. Anyone would love a no strings attached deal like this, getting $1000 every week with barely any commitment. You quit your other job because you don’t need both paychecks now and you’ve been able to keep up on rent. However, a part of you expected to be close with Xiaojun in some way at this point, especially considering the way he was flirting with you when he first propositioned this.

You’re fully prepared to confront him on Friday night, the same day he usually drops off the check and chats with you for a bit. You practically throw yourself over the counter when he takes a step inside the shop, yelling over your shoulder to Seojeong that you’re taking your break.

Xiaojun laughs at your eagerness, allowing you to tug on his suit as you pull him outside.

“Someone’s excited today. Need the check that badly?”

You frown at the accusation and exhale. “No, as a matter of fact, the money you’ve given me so far could probably cover me for a year.”

“Then what’s with the frowny face?”

“There’s a catch here, Xiaojun, I know there is. You’ve been too nice,” you say, waving a finger at him.

He smirks. “Have I been? I told you, little one, all I need is your company. You’ve given that to me every week, haven’t you?”

You scoff. “Barely. We talk for a few minutes while I’m making orders for other customers and then you leave. I would hardly call that company.”

He gets even cockier, if that was humanly possible. Xiaojun has to know what he’s doing to you — the mystery of his true personality starting to make you curious.

Similar to your first meeting, he leans down until he’s a few inches from your face, eyebrow raised. “Didn’t mean to neglect you, little one. Did you want more from me?”

You shift awkwardly, tension building in your stomach from his words. He was clearly teasing you and his patience was stronger than you previously believed. He waited a month just to have you desperate like this, wanting something more than a few minutes of his time. You’re so wet at this point that you’re definitive Xiaojun knows.

To prove your point, his smirk grows wider. “What are you doing after your shift?”

“U-Um, I have some homework to finish-“

“Great, I’ll pick you up after work and you can finish it at my apartment.” He doesn’t give you any time to protest, moving closer to you, his breath hitting the shell of your ear. “Next time, little one, just tell me you need more attention. Daddy will gladly give it to you.”

—

You’re a nervous wreck when Xiaojun’s expensive Rolls-Royce pulls up to the curb after your shift has ended. His car looks terribly out of place on the streets of your dirty campus, but he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. You quickly get in and ask him to go before anyone can recognize you.

The ride to his apartment in the upper part of town is filled with silence, making you even more jittery. Xiaojun, on the other hand, is calm and collected with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the console. You try to swallow your nerves and reason with yourself.

This is just Xiaojun — son of a multimillionaire, heir to many respective companies within the city. This is just Xiaojun — the man who’s been giving you $1000 every week with no strings attached, the man who’s clouded your dreams for the past month on more than one occasion.

Unfortunately, you don’t have any more time to dwell on your thoughts when Xiaojun pulls up to the parking garage of his complex. The both of you exit the car and he hands the keys to one of the valet drivers. His fingers fall to the small of your back as he guides you inside.

You try to avoid the blatant stares from other residents. You’re still dressed in your work clothes, a simple t-shirt and pair of jeans, but you couldn’t look more like a fish out of water. Xiaojun doesn’t seem to mind, walking into the elevator and pressing the top floor button. You ride the elevator in silence, and your eyes nearly fall out of your head when you reach the penthouse.

The apartment is straight out of the movies. The decor is extravagant, and you’re afraid if you touch anything, you’ll have to pay a fine. Xiaojun leads you to the dining room, pulling out a chair for you, despite your confusion.

“You can finish your homework here. I’ll be in the study upstairs.”

“Wait wait wait,” you stop him, placing a hand on his chest. “You’re leaving?”

He grins. “Did you want me to stay?”

He was really going to make you beg for it. Your eyes narrow and you feel a burst of confidence run through you. You tilt your head up until you’re a few centimeters from his mouth.

“You said Daddy would give me more attention if I asked for it.”

He growls, eyes darkening. Before you know it, he has you pinned to the grand table, staring at you as if you’re his last meal. It’s your turn to smirk as his control snaps, fingers digging into your hips roughly.

“Think it’s fun to test me? The other girls before you were more behaved,” he hisses, eyes wandering to the valley of your breasts.

“But you don’t like that, do you? You like it when they disobey,” you murmur, pulling him closer to you. “You like giving them their punishment.”

Xiaojun’s lips are pressed to yours before you can even fully register what’s going on, his body locking you against the wood. You whimper, hands gripping his forearm to keep steady. It’s messy and frantic, and you can see all of the built up tension starting to show.

“What would Doyeon think of you whoring yourself out for money?” He snickers, making you feel small under his gaze. “I bet she would be so ashamed. Little one gave up her pride for a few thousand dollars?”

You whine. “It’s not like that.”

“But isn’t it?” He questions you, fingers unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them down your legs. You wish you had worn a sexier pair of panties today but Xiaojun seems satisfied nonetheless, snapping the elastic against your skin. “Can’t wait to get a taste of this cunt. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it, little one?”

You probably look pathetic like this — half of your body sprawled across Xiaojun’s dining table, pants around your ankles, and a large wet spot ruining the fabric of your underwear. You pitifully nod in response to his question, eyes locked on the bulge straining against his expensive trousers. He chuckles when he follows your line of sight.

“Hungry?”

You fall into the role so easily. “Yes, Daddy.”

He directs you on your knees, the cold marble floor sending a shiver up your spine. You eagerly watch him unbuckle his belt and exposing his leaking cock for you. The tip is red and angry, demanding to be touched.

“Go ahead, little one. Make Daddy feel good.”

You wrap your mouth around the tip, nearly moaning at the taste of him. You haven’t been intimate with someone in so long and his cock has your mouth watering.

“Good girl,” he soothes, pushing his cock further down your throat. Tears immediately spring into your eyes when he ignores your gag reflex, hands gripping the back of your head as he guided you. “Shh, doing so well for me, little one.”

You allow him to fuck your mouth, trying to brush aside the tears falling down your face and saliva pooling at the sides of your mouth. It’s filthy and you love it — you haven’t been used like this in months and you never realized how much you missed it.

“Your mouth is so perfect, fuck,” he groans. “I’ll pay for anything you want if you stay on your knees like this, all pretty for me.”

You gasp when he lets you breathe, pulling his cock away. He chuckles at you, fingers returning to stroke himself as he watches you regain yourself. He tugs you back on your feet, overlooking your wobbly legs and pushing you into the living room. You’re about to question him on what he’s doing until he’s shoving you up against his glass window. You gaze downwards, seeing a plethora of people passing by on the street and cars honking to one another. It’s a view you only see in the movies, and you know Xiaojun’s eager to fuck you into the fantasy.

His fingers slide into your underwear, breath hot against your neck. “Look at all of them down there, little one. Bet they want to be just like you, fucked so good for everyone to see. Even better when I cum inside you, hm?”

You freeze. “D-Daddy,” you whisper frantically. “I’m not on the pill.”

He’s silent behind your figure before you feel him playing with your folds, your wetness coating his hand.

“Isn’t that nice? What do you think of getting knocked up, little one? This entire place could be yours, you would never have to step foot in that ice cream shop again. All the wealth you never imagined, you could spend all day in bed with me while I stuff you full. You would look so pretty on Daddy’s arm. I wonder how many times we could sneak away from the crowd so I could fuck my cock into you. Wouldn’t that be a dream?”

You gasp, growing wetter by the second. He easily slides a finger into your heat and all common sense is thrown out of the window.

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” you beg. “Please please please. I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

He laughs at your desperation, pushing another digit inside. “Even though you’re not on the pill? How filthy of you, little one.”

It’s sick. You barely know this man but all you want is his cum inside you. You can imagine the headlines now — Millionaire’s Son Gets Poor Girl Pregnant. But you want it. You want it so badly.

You hear the tearing of your panties but you couldn’t give a fuck what happens to them, pushing yourself further into him. He laughs again at you, tip lining up to your entrance.

“Beg for it.”

You cry. “Please, Daddy! I want it, I’ve been so good for you! I’ll let you cum inside me and everyone can watch. I want them to see who I belong to.”

“Fuck,” he growls at your submission. You nearly scream when he pushes into you, his girth bigger and thicker than you’ve ever taken before. On top of that, you haven’t had sex in months and the stretch is almost unbearable. Your head rolls back but Xiaojun grips your chin and forces you to look outside the window. “Look at all those people, little one. They’re about to get a nice show.”

He gives you no time to adjust, thrusting into you like he wants to break you. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls roughly, causing you to yelp at the pain. You’re past the point of coherent thinking, Xiaojun’s cock fucking you so good you can barely talk.

“Good, little one?”

“Mmf,” you gurgle, gasping at the force of his movements. You can feel him in your throat, and it’s as if he’s waited all these weeks just to spill his seed into you.

You tumble over the edge when he pinches your clit, whispering the dirtiest confessions into your ear. “Needy whore,” he laughed sinisterly. “Probably can’t go a day without my cock after this. Going to be begging me for it, wanting me all the time now. I can’t wait to take you everywhere and anywhere I please. I’ll buy you so many cute outfits, little one. So many skirts that make it easy for me to slide right inside and fuck you until you’re crying for me.”

You clench around his cock and fall over the edge, your wetness spilling down your thighs.

“Daddy,” you breathlessly hiss, body going limp in his arms.

“You came so much for me, little one. Your slutty cunt is so good for me, isn’t it?”

“Please, Daddy,” you plead. “Please, Daddy. I want to feel your cum.”

“Yeah?” He grunts, the sound of his balls repeatedly slapping against your pussy echoes around the room. “You wanna get pregnant? All baby wants is a big fat cock to stuff her full of cum, hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cry out, not even caring how pitiful you look at this point. “Want it so badly.”

Your desperation snaps the cord inside of him and he spills every last drop into you. You whimper at the warm feeling, some of his cum starting to drip out and coat the inside of your thighs. You both attempt to catch your breaths, your legs feeling like jelly.

You’re about to move away from him until Xiaojun keeps you pinned to the window, stopping you from leaving.

“W-What are y-you doing?” You ask, still out of breath from the fucking you just received.

“I don’t think that was the one,” he muses, eyes locked on where you two are intertwined. He offers an experimental thrust that has you scrambling.

“No, no,” you sniffle, trying to move away from him again. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“I think you can,” he chuckles, enjoying the way your cunt wraps so nicely around his cock. “And you will. Haven’t gotten you pregnant yet, little one.”

You spend hours fucking like bunnies with Xiaojun taking you on almost every surface of his apartment. You don’t even care that you’re impregnated, allowing him to use you in any way he pleases while the sun falls under the skyline.

Your pride didn’t matter that much anyways.

#nct smut #wayv smut #xiaojun #xiaojun smut

[intercoursefluids]

You Lied to Me?

The Wayne Enterprises building was the most beautiful building Marinette had ever seen. The tour guide was a very sweet man and he loved telling jokes to try to get the class to laugh.

Unfortunately, Lila was on a roll today, lying about knowing the Waynes and growing up with the youngest son, and finding out that they were true mates.

Even if she was claiming that her true mate was Prince Ali a week before the trip was announced, god forbid Marinette points that out and makes Lila shed her crocodile tears.

Even Adrien, her own mate, took Lilas's side and yelled at her for pointing out her lies when she should just stay quiet.

It ended up leading into a huge argument between them that Marinette had to apologize for to get him to talk to her after 3 long weeks of him ignoring her existence.

“Bruce Wayne funds multiple charities around the world in honor of his late parents, he has several adoptive children and a single blood son. Bruce typically keeps his children out of the spotlight and most Gothamites are very good about keeping pictures with them off of the internet.”

As the tour guide talks, Marinette reaches out her hand for Adrien's just for him to brush her off and step away from her.

Wrapping her arms around herself she leaves his side to stand next to the tour guide. At least he tells jokes and tries to make this interesting.

Damian's POV:

“Master Damian, you should start heading to the office if you want to catch Master Dick before his lunch break is over.”

Running his hands over his face he thanks Alfred before grabbing his jacket and starting his car up.

He needed Dick to sign off on his trip to Paris, France since he was his temporary guardian until Father got back from his honeymoon with Selina.

Pulling up to the building he stops. Not because of the bright yellow bus sitting in the parking lot, no, it's because of the intoxicating scent of baked goods, plants, and rain wafting through the air.

Following the smell leads him to the tour group Grayson is leading into the cafeteria.

Walking to Grayson's side he passes him the permission slip, trying to understand why he wants to be near the Blue haired angel getting a lunch tray.

“Grayson, how can you tell if you’ve found your true mate?”

Grayson startles looking up from signing the papers.

“Well, their scent is one way, they will smell like absolute heaven to you and you can’t help but follow it. Another way is that when you see them you want to touch them so you can get your scent on them as well, and when you do touch them, it's electrifying. Literally and figuratively. Do you think you found them?”

Damian nods, his eyes following his mate as she looks for a table to sit at.

“She’s right there. The one with the blue hair.”

Grayson smiles, clapping Damian on the shoulder.

“She’s pretty.”

Damian snorts responding without even thinking.

“She’s beautiful, Grayson. ‘Pretty’ doesn’t even scratch the surface.”

Grayson coos at Damian, being thoroughly ignored.

Damian starts walking towards her, intent on introducing himself when he catches another scent just beneath hers.

Another male’s scent.

He freezes in place making Grayson stop his cooing to instead question him.

“What's wrong? Is it not her?”

Damian watches as she walks to a seat at an empty table away from the rest of her group.

“She-”

Damian cuts off as he watches someone stick out their foot and trip her. Her lunch spills everywhere as she falls to the floor.

Not thinking twice he rushes over to her, holding out his hand and helping her up.

Just like Grayson said little shocks travel up and down his arm and he finds himself never wanting to let go.

She has the most beautiful blue eyes he's ever seen and the most angelic voice he's eve- Oh wait she's talking.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going and tripped, I’m so sorry!”

Damian just shakes his head, motioning for one of the janitors to come over and clean up the mess.

When he arrives she automatically drops down beside him to help pick up the mess muttering apologize the entire time.

Damian shifts his hand to her shoulder, subconsciously marking her with his scent and trying to overpower the other males.

“It’s fine honey, this stuff happens all the time. Why don’t you go hop back in line and get another tray? We wouldn’t want you to go hungry now.”

With the janitor's gentle prodding she finally stands up and gets another tray.

On her way back, Damian makes sure to keep an eye out for anyone else who wants to trip her.

The rest of lunch goes smoothly as she takes a seat at the table she was heading to and Damian watches her from his spot next to his brother.

Everything goes fine until they are about to finish the tour. A guy with blonde hair roughly grabs the girl with blue hair pulling her off to the side.

“Ow! Adrien, what’s wrong?”

Damian watches from Grayson's side, wanting to go help but certain she can handle herself.

“You know exactly what you did, Marinette. Don’t play stupid.”

A low growl leaves his chest as his mate is insulted.

“Adrien, you’re not making any sense. What did I do?”

He grabs both her wrists, shaking her violently.

“You belong to me! You are mine Marinette! Trying to get me jealous by flirting with that other guy? Really?! How low can you sink?! It's pathetic!”

She pushes away from him, rubbing at her wrists with the start of a bruise forming.

Damian starts to make his way over, a low, vicious rumbling in the back of his throat.

Grayson, seeing how mad Damian follows him.

“What the hell are you talking about?! I wasn’t flirting with anyone! I fell because Lila stuck her foot out and tripped me! It wasn’t my fault!”

Their argument starts to attract the attention of the other workers, a few running to find security.

Damian starts running as he watches the guy's hand clench before raising it.

He strikes her. Hard.

‘Marinette’ being caught off guard, loses her balance and falls to the ground, turning to look at him before he roughly grabs her by one of her pigtails and pulls her up to his face, and screams at her.

“Don’t talk back to me! I own you and you will do as I say! Do you understand?!”

She pushes him away.

“Whoever decided that you were my true mate was wrong. Dead wrong!”

He snarls, pulling his fist back to strike her.

Damian gets there first.

The next thing everyone knows is Damian Wayne is standing protectively in front of the girl and the guy is several feet away clutching his cheek and groaning.

Grayson kneels next to Marinette, helping her to her feet and taking Damian’s coat from his outstretched hand to wrap around her shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

She nods as he pulls her closer to him away from the fight that is likely to break out before a loud screeching voice cuts through the air.

“True mates? With him? Please Marinette, I knew you were ignorant but I didn’t think you were stupid. I am Adriens true mate. Not you.”

Damian stands up making his way to Marinette, taking her in his arms as she starts to shake.

“What are you talking about Lila? Adrien was there on my birthday, he said we were mates!”

‘Lila’ cackles as other people gasp, some with their phones out recording the entire thing.

“Oh please, did you just take his word for it? Why didn’t you just check his scent? That’s always been the easiest way to tell. Go ahead, I won’t even mess with you.”

She stays frozen looking straight at the boy claiming to be her mate.

“I can’t. I lost my sense of smell when I was a kid. I couldn’t check even if I wanted to.”

Lila looks surprised now, before looking on sadly.

“You really had no idea he was lying, did you?”

She starts shaking, taking a hesitant step towards Adrien.

“Adrien? W-what's she talking about? It’s not true. Is it?”

Her voice ends in a broken whisper, eyes tearing up as he slowly stands up and walks to her.

“You are mine, Marinette. You were mine the moment you put on those earrings. I mean seriously if I don’t take you who will?”

She flinches as he steps closer, his voice getting louder with hysteria.

“Nobody likes you, Mari! I am all you have left now! You want to leave me? HA! I’d like to see you try it.”

At the end of his ‘speech’ he roughly grabs her arm pulling a whimper from her and a very, VERY dangerous sounding snarl from Damian.

Ripping Adrien's hand from her arm while being as gentle as possible to not hurt her he pulls her behind him handing her off to his brothers entrusting them to take care of her.

“Who do you think you are grabbing her like that?”

The words are accentuated with the deep growl rumbling from his chest.

“I don’t see how it's any of your business, what I do with MY personal belongings.”

Damian picks Adrien up by his neck slamming him against the nearest wall.

“Don’t talk about her like she's an object.”

Adrien, being the Buffon with no sense of self-preservation he is, laughs.

“Oh yeah? What's it to you how I treat her? Not like you would want her for anything other than her body anyway.”

Adrien sneers down at Damian, even as he slowly starts to turn purple in the face from his grip on his neck.

Slowly tightening his grip even more he watches as the blonde idiot starts to flail from the lack of breathing. Fighting to get a single breath of air.

“Do not act as if I would ever treat my mate in such a way.”

His voice is deadly, sending shivers down even the security guards spines.

Everyone watches on, some with their phones recording, certain that they are about to see Damian Wayne, their bosses son, about to commit a murder in the lobby.

And no one is even going to try and stop him.

That is until a small pale hand lands on his arm, shooting sparks all the way to his heart.

“Is it true? Are you really my true mate?”

Damian nods ever so slowly, never taking his eyes off the blonde who is slowly losing consciousness.

Two thin, lethal arms wrap around his waist from behind.

“Please stop. I just want to leave right now. Will you take me?”

Without another word Damian drops the barely conscious man, taking his coat off and wrapping it around Marinette's shoulders, tucking her into his side as he swiftly walks her out of the building.

Adrien slowly gets up, trying to chase after them only to be cut short by the three eldest Wayne brothers.

All armed with glares that could kill.

Behind them stands all of the Wayne enterprises employees, making a human barrier between the newly found mates and Adrien.

The brother with the white piece of hair steps forward pushing Adrien back down to the ground.

“I think we need to have a little talk.”

#werewolf au #Not sure I like it #Not my idea #If you can find the original tag so I can give credit #maribat #daminette #maridami #protective batfam #toxic!adrien

[littlemisskookie]

Piss Off Your Parents

Piss Off Your Parents Ship: BadBoy!Jungkook | RichGirl!Reader Description: Roommates!AU | BadBoy!AU | FakeDating!AU | In an effort to piss off your parents you move in with their worst nightmare- a boy with tattoos, a rock band, and an irresistible charm. Warnings: Dom!JK, Daddy Kink, D/S Themes, Spanking, Pussy Spanking, Intercourse, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Creampie, Fingering, Oral, Multiple Orgasms, Squirting, Size Kink, Hair Pulling, Praise Kink, Lots of Pet Names, Angst, Fluff, Drug Use (it’s just weed) Word Count: 16,411 A/N: Based on the song 18 by Anarbor! This ends my hiatus! I’ve been writing this for literal months so I hope you guys like it. Happy Early 3rd Year Anniversary!

"Oh, you must visit us in Morocco! We got a summer home there not too long ago, and it's absolutely divine!"

"You don't say? We were thinking about visiting there! It was between there and Budapest."

"I went to Budapest not too long ago, actually. Remember when I was telling you about Belgium?"

"Belgium? I remember Prague..."

"Oh yes! Prague, that's it. Well, it was the trip after-"

You rolled your eyes, internally groaning as you listened to your mother speak with the Senator's wife. You hated going to these. The senator loved to host "intimate" parties, which mainly compromised of the 1%. Everyone knew it was because the next election was coming up, and he wanted to raise funding. As if he needed it, you mused to yourself, admiring the interior of the mansion. Spilling wine on a nearby couch would cost as much as some student loans.

Still, you were the daughter of a wealthy family, trust fund baby among other things. Your college was paid for, not including the bribing, and you were the darling among many. Daddy's little jewel, and one of the few brats who wasn't forced under the scapel at 16.

You couldn't stand the boys in that circle. They were all the same, figuring that a man of their "status" should have a trophy equally worthy. Or perhaps they wanted an arranged marriage, no bullshit, simply in hopes of linking the family businesses together and gaining your father's support. Often times they were just men who had never heard the word "no", and didn't like hearing it, wealth be damned.

You feel sick to your stomach, seeing one of your "suitors" eyeing you when he enters. He's different from the others, no suit adorning his figure. Instead of a suit and tie, he wears all black, leather jacket and combat boots. The graphic tee is tucked into his ripped jeans, accentuating his tiny waist. You peak at the tattoos on his hands, and the jewelry he wears. Lots of rings, some earrings, and a chain necklace, with a matching one on his pants. He had long hair that hung around his ears, making it where he had to flip his hair to see what was in front of him.

You felt as though the world had stopped, holding your breath as you simply stare at him. He gives you a charming smile, surprisingly cute dimples showing up on either cheek. It felt as though the breath had been knocked out of your lungs, and your stomach was doing flips.

"Oh, that boy! I told him to dress for the occasion," the Senator's wife scowled. She smiles towards you and your mother. "If you'll excuse me."

As soon as she scurries away, you turn to your mother, eyes wide with wonder. "Who's that?"

Your mother gives a judgemental stare to the boy as he's approached. "The Senator's son- Jungkook. You grew up with him when you were about toddlers."

"The Jeons created that?" You couldn't believe it. Those two had sticks shoved so far up their asses you were sure you could see the end whenever they opened their mouths. You would've remembered growing up with a specimen like that. "How come I haven't seen him until now?"

"His parents sent him off to boarding school in Switzerland, hoping it would whip him into shape. It didn't. After he got his degree in college he decided to make some rock band. Apparently he's back in town to work with this new record label- or was it to own his own guitar shop?"

"So he's some baddie rock star?"

"Dear, I told you to speak properly. Like a lady." Your mother sighs. "But in other words, yes. Figures the Senator would make the living embodiment of teenage rebellion- though I'm surprised it's lasted this long."

"I'll say." You hadn't been able to do anything of the sort. Your parents were strict to whip you into the shape, not allowing any form of rebellion, though you have your tiny ways. You learned to appreciate the little things. So when you looked at the Senator's son, in all his indie-rock glory, you couldn't help but admire him.

"I'll see you in a bit, Mother. I do believe I have to acquaint myself," you say, sliding away with ease.

"Y/N!"

You're long gone, though, the lecture Jungkook was surely hearing now over as his mother stomps away, shaking her head. You combed your fingers through your hair, hoping you looked good. You wore a tight red dress, though it wasn't too revealing, as well as a matching set of diamond earrings. Don't even mention the carats on your necklace.

"Hey," you say, giving the coy smile you had mastered so long ago. "Jungkook, right?"

"That's me," he says, taking your hand to bring it up to his lips, winking at you. "And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"Meeting?" You feign slight offense. "Don't you remember me? Y/N. We grew up together as toddlers." Before he has time to take it seriously, you let your expressions melt back into a smile. "Though I wouldn't worry too much about it- it was long ago."

"I don't think I'll be forgetting you again any time soon," he says, a smirk on his lips.

You giggle at that. "So what brings you here? Doesn't seem to be your kind of scene."

He shrugged. "My dad's the senator, as I'm sure you already know. He figured I'd be able to bring in a few dollars with promoting to our 'friends', along with getting me on the 'right track'. AKA his track. Y'know, politics and that sort of stuff."

"I get that," you nod. "My parents have been pushing me most of tonight to find myself some new boyfriend here."

"And why haven't you? I'd figure a gorgeous girl such as yourself would have no problem."

"The problem isn't with me, mind you," you say, sighing. "Let's just say that most of these guys aren't exactly my-" You nod to the suitor who had been eyeing you the entire time, though he now glares at Jungkook. "-type."

"They aren't my type either," Jungkook jokes, waving in acknowledgment to the man. He leans in close to whisper in your ear, and you can't help but feel your knees go weak at his scent. Was that cologne or did he naturally smell good? "What exactly is your type then, hm?"

"I'm talking to him."

He smiles at that. "Good move, princess."

"Who do you think you're calling princess?"

"Oh? What would you like to be called, then?"

"Wouldn't you like to know? You already have too much power over me. That would just be my one-way ticket to doom." You let your fingers twirl around a lock of his hair, admiring how soft it was. "My name will do for now."

"Fair enough," he chuckles. "Do you want to get some fresh air on the balcony? It's just that wonderbread over there seems like he wants to pick a fight, and I'd rather not get blood on that white shirt of his."

"Is that why you're wearing black? So the blood won't show up?"

"You're wearing red- it'll do just as well."

"Touché. No fighting tonight, though. Wonderbread can't even handle a nosebleed."

"Lead the way then, Y/N."

You're happy to do so but already find yourself cringing as Wonderbread catches up with you before you can leave. "Hey! Y/N! Where are you going off to? The party's just started"

"Jungkook and I are just going to get some fresh air," you assure him, trying to smother the rising feelings of annoyance as well as the urge to groan.

"Jungkook, huh?" Wonderbread looks him up and down, eyes squinted, glaring at his appearance. "The senator's son?"

"That's me," Jungkook says in response.

"You don't look like the type," Wonderbread mutters.

"You mean boring?" Jungkook snorts, giving his own dirty glance up and down Wonderbread's form.

"What are you insinuating?" Wonderbread's face was already getting red. It was always so easy to offend these sorts of guys. They could dish it, but not take it.

"I mean black is slimming. You should dress in a way that flatters you, y'know?" Jungkook plasters on a fake smile that could rival your own. He reaches for Wonderbread's tie, toying with it between his fingers for a few moments. "But judging from your choice of baby blue, I don't think you do."

"Why I oughta-"

"I think now's a good time to get that fresh air!" you say, pushing Jungkook off in the direction of the balcony. "Right, Jungkook?"

He simply shrugs, taking the hint before stalking off in that direction. You're about to follow him when Wonderbread yanks on your arm, a scowl on his face. "I thought you had better taste, Y/N. That you were smart."

"Let go of me, please."

His grip tightens. "Didn't your parents tell you to stay away from guys like that? He'll just get you into trouble- they always do. What with their piercings and tattoos and drugs- stay away from that. He had a choice and could've been like that, but it's clear he wants to be a rebel and get himself in jail."

"I said let go of me." You try to pull your arm back, but he stays firm.

"Why don't you just listen to me and stop for a second. Guys like that will just hurt you. They hurt everyone around them, including themselves. They're scum-"

"I said-"

"Don't be an idiot and stick with your own kind."

"If you don't let go of me right now, I'll scream. I don't care," you grit.

Wonderbread scowls again, muttering to himself as he finally lets go of you. You rub your sore arm, glaring at him. He simply scoffs. "You'll be the laughing stock when you go crying back to your parents."

"Have you ever considered I don't want to be like you people? Like us? Look around, Wonderbread. None of us are happy. You clearly aren't because you can't get laid, at least not by 'your own kind'. I haven't done anything with Jungkook, I just met him tonight and we're getting air, and even if I did, it'd be none of your business. So stop staring at my rack like you have been for the past hour and get a life."

You turn on your heel, marching over to the balcony, leaving Wonderbread far behind you. Jungkook's waiting for you, leaning on the railing.

"Are you ok? I saw some of that back there. I wanted to help, but I didn't want to go all 'Alpha Douchebag' like other guys. Besides you seemed to be able to handle yourself at the end."

You huff, brushing your hands through your hair. "I'm able to defend myself once in a while. I'm not some damsel in distress."

"Never said you were, princess. And trust me when I say I'm no white knight."

"That's why I'm here with you instead of Wonderbread."

"No one with a personality spicier than flour would want to stick around with Wonderbread," he responds.

"You've got a point," you huff. "Guys like him are hard to shake off."

"It's not hard to see why. You're gorgeous and rich, double whammy," Jungkook winks.

You groan. "God, not you too. Besides, you're one to talk. You waltz in here, dressing like sin, son of the senator no less, and you don't expect girls to fawn over you?"

"Who said I didn't expect it?"

"Plus, it's different for guys and girls. In this sort of society guys just want a trophy wife. The girls want a trophy too, though. The hottest guy, the richest guy- a provider," you state. "The gender roles of the high class still stay in the 50s, I'm afraid."

"So you followed me out here because you see me as a provider, huh?"

"Did you invite me out because you saw me as a trophy?"

"No." He shakes his head, his locks bouncing as he did so. It was strangely attractive.

"Well if I just wanted a provider I'd stick with Wonderbread. He'd be more than willing to 'provide' for me."

"The only thing softies like that can't provide is an orgasm," he bluntly says.

You burst out laughing at that. "Oh my god, don't-"

"I'm just saying," he chuckles. "Besides, it's not all that bad. So you're hot and rich- boohoo. First world problems, am I right?"

"I know, I know, I'm privileged but- God, it's annoying."

"It's just a few guys who want to marry you- what's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal?" You hold out your hand, tallying off the reasons. "My parents are pressuring me to marry young, wanting to trust their wealth to a man they don't even know rather than the daughter they raised. I'm constantly sexually harassed, and most of the time when I reject the guy he either doesn't take the hint or just says I was fat or ugly to ease his bruising ego. Everything I do is perceived as a ploy to get a man, and the other chicks go as far as to slut-shame me or say I think I'm better than everyone else because I'm some SJW who doesn't want to get boob surgery to please a man, despite the fact he'll probably be sleeping with an 18-year-old when we're 50 and hating ourselves."

"If it helps, I think your tits are great as they are."

"Did you listen to anything I said?"

"Of course I did, baby. But you have to keep in mind when a guy hears the words 'boob surgery' he tends to tune in more," he jokes. "But yes, I get your struggles. I grew up in the same environment, for the most part."

"Why aren't you out here trying to win a trophy, anyway?"

"Didn't you hear? I was sent off to boarding school. It's good to see an outside world that doesn't cater to your every need," he shrugs. "You know, a world where women are more than trophies and guys are more than the thickness of their wallets."

"Instead the thickness of their cocks?"

He winks. "Now you're thinking like me."

"So you got outside perspective and chose to follow that instead of a life that would've provided you with everything?"

"What can I say? I've got passion for things outside of elections and sexism."

"Let me guess- you're in a rock band, ride a motorcycle, and play guitar," you roll your eyes. "Color me impressed."

There's a moment of silence, and you turn to him, finding him bashfully stunned. "No shit! You're actually all of those things?"

"I'll have you know I own a guitar shop along with the band. Have to pay the bills somehow."

"Oh my god- you're like every teen girl's wet dream! The living embodiment of a Harry Styles fanfiction but without the toxicity!" You guffaw. "I can't believe this. I should've known. Leather jackets, long hair, tattoos- fuck!"

"Yeah yeah, you've made your point, princess."

"I mean, I thought I was a bit of a parent's worse nightmare when it came to youthful rebellion but you're the icing on the cake," you continue. "Fuck, you'd piss my parents off."

"Getting turned on by the thought of it, little girl?" he teases, trying to get you to back down, quirking a brow at your amusement.

"You know it," you flirt back, tugging at his belt, fueled further. "I love nothing more than showing them I'm more grown-up than they realize."

"Oh?" He starts to take you seriously, gulping. "I would've figured a Daddy's girl like you would've loved pleasing her parents."

"I guess you could say I'm a different kind of Daddy's girl," you wink. You laugh at his serious expression, knowing your little joke was in full effect. "Calm down, Jeon. I'm not going to fuck you on the balcony- despite how my type you are."

"I'm your type?"

"Haven't I made it obvious?" you snicker. "I told you I loved nothing more than to piss my parents off- and you're the embodiment of that. I could see my dad's face going red already! I mean, motorcycles, rock band, tattoos, leather, guitars- already my type, but it's the cherry on top."

"You're weird about that, huh? I knew some girls were into this whole look, but I wouldn't have figured it was for the same reason as you."

"All girls who are attracted to guys like you are attracted for the same reasons," you muse. "Daddy issues."

"Makes sense," he hums. "But I'm not all that dreamy, princess."

"Oh? Explain."

"I drink."

"Vodka I hope."

"I also smoke. Weed."

"Better than vaping like the 'cool kids'."

"I'm broke."

That's the one that takes you by surprise. "How's that? You're the senator's son."

He shrugs. "My parents cut me off after I came back from boarding school and told them I wanted to join a rock band and make a guitar shop. They hate my look as much as your parents would- though they brought me here in hopes that those my age could rub off on me in time for the election. I make enough to live in my apartment and provide for myself, but I don't think I'd be able to be the same kind of 'provider' as Wonderbread over there."

"Well, what do you think I'd use Daddy's card for?" you say. "It has been gathering dust..."

"God, you're serious about this," he laughs. "I'm on a fast track of getting a rich girlfriend and I didn't even have to lift a finger. I'll have to start calling off my other girls soon enough."

"Not quite," you say, pressing your finger against his lips. "There's one thing that'll prevent me from dating a guy like you- no matter how appealing you may seem."

His brows furrow in a state of confusion. "And what's that, princess?"

"There's one thing that's very consistent about men like you- what, with your 'bad boy with a heart of gold' persona," you say, tilting his chin up a bit. "Heart breakers. All of you. In all of the stories, fiction or reality, it ends the same. A broken heart one way or another, even temporarily. I'm guessing with you it'd be those other girls you mentioned. If not that, arguments because of how different we are. Or perhaps it'd be my parents saying enough's enough and taking me away or something- I don't know. It's the only thing that my parents and Wonderbread get right, though."

"So what does that boil down to?"

"It boils down to the fact that I wouldn't fall for someone like you."

"Charming?"

"Sleazy."

"Handsome?"

"Generic."

"Dangerous?"

"Extremely."

Jungkook chuckles at that. "I don't think you'd be able to choose whether or not you fall for someone, princess. I've been told I'm quite irresistible."

"I'm sure you are- but I made my choice the moment you stepped through those double doors," you smile, tapping his nose. "I'm not going to be another broken heart. That I guarantee."

"Oh, you read too much fanfiction. What Harry Styles fanfiction gave you this mindset? The Bad Boy's Rich Girl?" He laughs. "I see it now. I assure you, baby, I'm a lover, not a fighter."

"I can handle fighting. I was raised in it. A lover like you isn't what I need."

"Are you sure? I'm confident in my loving abilities."

"Ha," you flatly say. "Sure you are. Choke me, baby."

"Give me the safe word first, baby."

You roll your eyes. "You're no good for me."

"Poison."

"You'd break my heart."

"Like so many others'."

"You'll call me?"

"At 2 AM."

"God, you're sleazy."

"You love it, baby."

"Shut up and put your number in my phone so I can wait two days to text back."

-

You and Jungkook had been texting non-stop since the senator's party. Surprisingly enough, between the banter and flirting, he was a very genuine person. He was caring and sent the same memes, though you were considering unfollowing meme accounts so that you'd be pleasantly surprised. Damn him for having the same sense of humor as you.

You were in the middle of spamming the skull emoji when your mother called for you. You rolled your eyes, huffing as you put down your phone, checking your appearance once more in the mirror. Your parents told you to get dolled up for the evening, and you could only hope they were taking you to see the musical that was in town.

Once you glided down the stairs, however, you were supremely disappointed.

"Y/N," your mother beamed, "this is Jin. He's a doctor, and he's involved in-"

"Non-invasive surgery," Jin interrupted, already pissing you off. "Pleasure to meet you- your parents told me all about you."

"Pleasure's all mine," you say through gritted teeth, already absolutely pissed. You turn towards your mother. "May I talk to you for a moment?"

"Of course, sweetheart." You see her internally roll her eyes as she escorts you to the kitchen, where you immediately turn on your heel.

"This is the fifth boy you've brought home for me to date! How many more do you need to bring for you to realize I'm not interested in them?"

"Sweetheart, you have to understand-"

"Understand what? No means no. I don't like any of them. The fact you won't stop pressuring me into dating strangers isn't helping, either."

"We just want to see you settled down with a proper gentleman-"

"Settled down!? I'm in my young 20s! I'm nowhere near menopause, for your information. I've got my whole life ahead of me before I even have to think about marriage."

"Don't raise your voice at me, young lady," she fumes. "What, would you rather we bring... bring a Jeon Jungkook?!"

"Is that what this is about?"

"We know you've become affiliated with him, yes. We're trying to get you on the right path."

"To hell with that noise!" you burst. "Jungkook is no less- no, more of a man than those dweebs that walk in! You want to know why? Because he's honest! I know these guys better than you. They might act all nice and charming to you guys, but that's just because they're after your money. You can't seem to see that, however, because it's not your tits they're staring at! It's not you who's the trophy. It's not you who is sexually harassed and seen as a prize to be won!"

"Young lady, I won't stand for such behavior!"

"I'm a grown adult, and I'll date bastards like Jeon Jungkook if I so please," you huff, turning away. "Tell Jin it was so nice to meet him, but unfortunately another 'proper gentleman' is keeping me occupied."

You stomp away before she can grab you and force you on your date, and by the time you're in a secluded area, you burst into tears. You simply wish your parents could see you as an adult who is capable of making her own decisions. That you're allowed to live your life and you're different from them and that's ok. They couldn't seem to get it through their thick heads, however.

You were sick of it. Absolutely sick of it. Over 20 years of this bullshit, and now it was worse, what with them pressuring you to jump into marriage with someone 'respectable'.

There had to be some way to get back at them. To get it through to them. To get back at them for their bullshit or get them to see you're not some naive 16-year-old or something.

With a shaky hand, you pick up your phone, dialing the number to call your friend.

"Jungkook? Yeah... yeah, I've been crying. Can you, uh, do you think you could do me a massive favor?"

-

Jungkook had to admit, it came as a surprise when you asked to move in with him.

It really didn't register with him, however, until you pulled up in front of his building in your luxury convertible, boxes filling up every inch of space.

He had no problem with you becoming his roommate- after all, you promised you wouldn't bother interfering with his bachelor lifestyle. In fact, he was quite amused.

Fake dating. Your deep-rooted frustration for your parents was quite apparent, but he didn't think it'd go this far. You'd live with him for a while under the guise of boyfriend/girlfriend, at least to your parents. He didn't quite understand the revenge scheme or how it worked, but he understood enough. Between your choked up sobs, you had explained the plethora of men your parents have brought to your house under the guise of a date when in reality they were trying to pressure her into marriage.

Even if that hadn't been happening, Jungkook would've let you come in. You two were friends. You had insisted that you would pay your half of the rent and wouldn't become his actual girlfriend, and admittedly, Jungkook liked the thought of a roommate.

"What happens if your parents cut you off?" Jungkook had questioned you, knowing how rough it had been for him when it happened.

"Unbeknownst to my parents, I have a job," you explained.

"What? You said you just used your father's credit card when we first met!"

"I barely knew you! Now that I know you're not some creep I can tell you. If you must know, I'm the assistant to some chief executive for a fashion company."

"The Devil Wears Chanel?"

"It's The Devil Wears Prada, but close enough."

Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit worried for you, especially now that he saw you again. You lifted your designer sunglasses to reveal tired, worn eyes, a look only achieved through crying. He greeted you with a smile, however, hugging you once you stepped out of your car.

"How you holding up, princess?" he questioned, giving you a warm embrace.

"God, better now, thank you." You melted into his hug. "Thank you for doing this. It means a lot."

"Hey, I promised to piss off your parents, didn't I? I'm a man of my word," he chuckled. He stepped back, combing over your hair affectionately. "Now, here's the deal, oh precious fake girlfriend of mine. As roommates, we've got a few rules. Rule number one: No fucking after 3 AM. Despite my many escapades, I have a bedtime. Rule number two: when one person cooks, the other washes the dishes. Simple. Rule number three: Be honest. We're living together, so we've got to be honest. Lying, secrets- none of that. You've got something on your mind, you say it. We'll yell at each other for a few minutes and settle it. Sound good?"

You nod. "Sounds like a plan."

"Alright. And the fake dating rules, baby?"

"Nothing much. Drive with me once or twice to visit my parents, to show we're 'serious'. We can go into details about our story if need be. Keep up the act around rich brats."

"Sounds good," he chuckles. "Already turning into a Wattpad fanfiction, isn't it?"

You smile weakly, a light giggle escaping your lips. "Oh god, it really is, isn't it?"

"Hey, there's a reason they're popular. We've just got to do it better." He looks back towards your car filled with boxes. "Here, let me help you with your things, Your Highness."

"Why thank you, my humble servant," you say, getting a box yourself. "I sure do love a big strong man!"

"If only I weren't a peasant boy who worked at the stables."

"Indeed. You're filthy- I shouldn't even let you touch my valuables," you snicker, "but I suppose you'll have to do."

"You're right about the filthy part," Jungkook winks.

-

Being roommates with Jungkook wasn't what you expected.

Your work was getting more hectic, so you were arriving later than usual. It absolutely exhausted you, and you'd be stumbling in, kicking your heels off at the front door only to collapse into Jungkook's arms, who would wait for you. Every. Single. Night.

You had told him that he didn't have to wait for you. His work ended at 6, and even the nights when he'd play with his band wouldn't go too late, as they play until midnight for their usual gigs.

Still, he had insisted. Something about not wanting you to feel alone. You'd never tell him how much you appreciated it. Instead of the vast, empty mansion, you lived in, where the only thing that would embrace you was dust, you lived in a small, messy apartment and collapsed into a pair of warm arms.

On the few days you were off you were able to properly spend time with your roommate. Every other Friday would be movie night, where one of you would pick the movie for the two of you to watch, all because you believed the other was "tasteless". Nevertheless, it was time you truly enjoyed, and you were genuinely disappointed whenever you had to miss it because of your job.

Living with him was domestic in a good way. It was a friendly face to come home to every day, a warm hug to embrace you whenever you kicked off your heels. It was burnt bacon on some mornings and lazy Sunday clothing to borrow whenever you felt like it.

Sure, it wasn't always the greatest. Often times you guys would bicker over some basic chores and neatness. Jungkook left his clothes everywhere in the living room, and you'd leave all your heels in a heap in front of the door. However, you thought it'd be worse.

You were suspecting people over every other night, all as tatted and pierced as he was. Weekly bong parties where they'd try to hotbox the apartment, maybe. Women draping themselves over him every other morning, wanting to stay for the day, glaring at you because they saw you as a threat.

There was some of that, but not really. Jungkook, when it came down to it, was just another ordinary guy. Human. He'd have some of his bandmates and friends come over once in a while, and they were just as handsome and tatted as he was. They were polite and friendly, though, and didn't even leave much of a mess behind. Jungkook would get weed for the two of you to smoke once in a while. As for the women? Well, there was only one woman you had encountered.

It was a Friday night and you were able to come home at the usual hour, kicking your heels off and letting out the high ponytail you had in your hair. You massaged your scalp, making eye contact with Jungkook from his position on the couch. You strut over, plopping yourself down by his side and positioning yourself where you can lay your head in his lap.

"How was your day at work, princess?"

"Exhausting," you groaned. You'd never admit it to Jungkook, but you had warmed up to the nickname as of late. It made you feel warm inside. Special. You weren't a princess. You were his princess.

His fingers start running through your hair, giving you a gentle massage as he hums in understanding. "Want to talk about it?"

"Just the same old shit, honestly. You'd figure I'd be used to it by now."

"You'd figure," he chuckles. "Well, I'm glad you're working hard. It might be difficult, and the boss may be a bitch, and the pay lower than it should be..."

"But?"

He smiles. "But... if it makes you happy, then I'll support you."

"God, I think you're halfway to fixing my daddy issues already," you grin. You look up at him, noticing his long hair was styled, and a leather jacket adorning him. Typically when he was in the apartment he'd simply lounge around with uncombed curls and glasses, one of his baggy white shirts revealing the tatted sleeves you loved. "Hey, what're you all dressed up for?"

"Oh? This? I've got a date tonight," he shrugs, eyes back up on the TV.

"Oh," was all you could manage to say. He had said it so bluntly like it wasn't a big deal. Well, it wasn't. He was your roommate. Why should you care whether or not he's got a date? It's not like you had feelings for him or anything. That would be ridiculous. It would only complicate things.

Jungkook was your friend. He let you move in with him and comforted you in your time of need. Sure, you guys flirted a lot, and there was a lot of physical affection, from combing through each other's hair, cuddling on the couch during movie night, or tight hugs on especially rough days. But none of those meant that he liked you. Maybe you just kept thinking back to the air of mutual attraction, the first night you met. Maybe you had lulled yourself in a false sense of comfort, thinking of him as a boyfriend.

But he wasn't. You guys didn't kiss. You guys didn't have sex. You guys didn't even say anything about liking one another. For all you knew, he saw you as a sister at this point. The two of you knew each other like the back of your hand at this point.

Besides, the worst thing you could do was fall for your roommate.

Not an option.

Still, there was a feeling in the pit of your stomach that made you squirm in discomfort. You felt... unsettled, by the thought of Jungkook with another girl.

Was she pretty? Was she like you? Or was she more like him? Was she covered in tattoos and a cute septum piercing to go along with it? Did she have brightly colored hair and like punk rock? Yeah, you could picture Jungkook with a girl like that. They'd make an aesthetically pleasing couple.

"So, tell me about her," you say, realizing the two of you had been silent since you got lost in thought.

He shrugged again. "Not much to say. She's nice. She's been visiting my shop a lot recently. She's got some old guitar that she refuses to let go of, so she visits me for repairs. She visits so often I started to think she was breaking it on purpose. Eventually, she asked for my number and... well, now I've got a date."

"Cool," you nod. "What time do you have to leave?"

"I'll probably leave to pick her up in about 15 minutes," Jungkook says, looking down at his phone. "Actually... I think I have to leave now. I lost track of time."

You raise your head to let him up, and he checks himself once more in the reflection of the microwave in the kitchen. You chuckle, walking up to him and straightening out his clothes, fixing his hair a bit.

"There we go, now you look... maybe presentable," you smile.

He laughs a bit at that, ruffling your hair. "I promise we can have movie night tomorrow. If not, you can pick. We can even watch that god awful Fifty Shades movie you've been bugging me to watch."

"It's for the irony! We'll be watching it to make fun of it!" you exclaim, part of your usual banter about the series.

"Uh-huh. Just don't get horny based on that garbage, or I'll have half the mind to kick you out," he jokes. He grabs the key to his motorcycle and grabs the extra hot pink helmet- the one the two of you had picked out together once you started riding with him. "Don't bother staying up for me, ok? You need your beauty sleep."

"Is that your way of saying I'm ugly?" you say, quirking a brow in a comical manner.

"Absolutely hideous," he grins, kissing the top of your forehead. "Sweet dreams, princess."

He shut the door behind him, and you felt your heart sink in your chest.

Maybe you did feel something for Jungkook.

-

She wasn't exactly what you were expecting.

To be fair though, there was no way for you to expect waking up to a nude woman in your kitchen.

Typically you would've ignored Jungkook's suggestion for you to go to sleep, instead opting to head to bed once he left. You had been completely wiped from the workday, and could barely keep your eyes open. Maybe your body simply had pity on you, choosing to put you in REM sleep before you had to hear the two of them having sex.

Maybe you thought Jungkook was the type to do it at the girl's place. Maybe you thought he was the type to kick the girl out as soon as the deed was done. However, he was neither.

You had woken up to go to the kitchen, prepared to make your morning cereal when you heard the sizzling of bacon on a pan. Ah, Jungkook must be making breakfast. No doubt he's burned it again by now- something about not liking the bacon to be too fatty. The two of you really knew it was because he couldn't cook anything other than ramen.

"Jungkook, are you- oh shit!"

Instead of your edgy roommate, you were greeted by a woman wearing nothing but an apron. Literally nothing. She had been turned away from you, and you had gotten a full view of her ass and sideboob through the apron.

Out of instinct, you cover your eyes, hearing her shriek.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't know someone else lived here. You're not his girlfriend, are you? He told me he was single!"

"What? No, no! I'm his roommate, Y/N," you say, slowly peaking through your fingers. She was facing you now, and though she couldn't change at that moment, the apron covered up everything. You let out a sigh, lowering your hands.

"Oh, well nice to meet you, Y/N!" She smiled brightly, offering an awkward hand. "I didn't know Jungkook had a female roommate."

You shake her hand, quirking a brow. "You didn't see all the shoes by the door?"

"I was a bit... preoccupied, so to say," she chuckled awkwardly. "I'm Solji."

"Nice to meet you, um, Solji," you say. "You're Jungkook's date from last night, right?"

"Yeah." Solji tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, and at that moment you completely get it. She's pretty in that natural kind of way. The kind of pretty that looks gorgeous without makeup, but would probably look good either way. Anything she did could be done with grace.

Jungkook walks into the kitchen in only a t-shirt and briefs. "What was that scream about- oh."

"Hi, Jungkook." Solji's voice is breathy, as though even seeing Jungkook again made her dizzy. You knew that feeling all too well. "I-I'm sorry. You were asleep and I couldn't bear to wake you up, but I thought it'd be rude to leave, so I thought I'd make breakfast! And then your roommate..."

"Y/N," you help, noticing she had forgotten your name already.

"Y/N! Right, sorry." She smiles apologetically. "And then Y/N walked in..."

"We're good now though, I think we were both just startled," you say. You look between the two awkwardly, an air of silence hanging over the three of you. "I, um, need to... pee."

You exit the situation as quickly as you could, holing yourself up in your room for the majority of the day. It isn't until later that day, when you lounge in the kitchen, stuffing your face with pop tarts after doing your best to avoid social interaction that you see Jungkook.

"Hey, Kook," you say, wiping the crumbs off your face. You probably looked like a mess right now, from lounging in your sweats. You couldn't care less, though. You were starving, and Jungkook had seen you worse. "Where's Solji?"

"Hm? Oh, she left."

"She left? But she seemed so happy to be here."

"Well, then I guess a more blunt way to put it is that I kicked her out," Jungkook shrugged.

You're stunned by his clarification.

As though sensing your shock or judgment, Jungkook quickly changes the topic. "So, movie night tonight? Since we missed it last night? I can make the ramen."

"I... yeah. Let's do it."

He grinned. "Great! I'll get alcohol too, and we can take a shot every time they say some cringy dirty talk."

You rolled your eyes, unable to hold back the smile that tugged at your lips. "You really want to destroy my liver, don't you?"

The two of you didn't speak of Solji again.

-

You still hug on tightly to Jungkook's waist as he rolls up to your parents' mansion, clinging even after his motorcycle comes to a complete halt.

"You know, I'm pretty sure your waist is smaller than mine," you note, finally loosening your grip. You had seen Jungkook shirtless plenty of times- the man child had a tendency to prance around the apartment half-naked. Still, his abs were rock hard- and you felt so squishy in comparison.

"That's just because I work out, baby," he chuckles, taking off his helmet and giving his locks a dramatic swoosh of freedom. He grins boyishly at you, helping you take your helmet off as well. "It wouldn't kill you to get out of the apartment for something other than work, you know."

"Excuse you! I work out plenty in the confines of my room," you fume.

"Sure- like those little girl weights do anything," he jokes.

"Well, I oughta-"

"Miss Y/N."

The two of you look up at the front door, the butler looking at you with that usual scornful expression of his. He glowers at you and your fake boyfriend, giving a sneer. You'd figure after all these years the man would show a little warmth towards you- but then you remembered it was your parents who were paying him, not you.

"I do believe your parents are expecting you and your... boyfriend, miss," he says, eyes scanning over Jungkook with clear disdain.

Jungkook only grins in response, putting the helmets up and helping you hop off, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "Lead the way, chump."

The butler scoffs at that, turning on his heel to follow Jungkook's orders as the younger man giggles. One of Jungkook's favorite hobbies, as it turns out, was pissing off rich people. Must be the socialist in him.

"Chump?" you question, raising a brow. "What century are you from?"

"Oh, don't say that. Besides, I highly doubt I would've been let in if I had called him a cuck."

"I'm surprised we even got this far."

Jungkook, determined to help you piss off your parents, had decided to wear a plain black t-shirt that revealed as many tattoos as possible, as well as chains and hoop earrings. His jeans were ripped, his sneakers were scuffed, and he was the most handsome man to walk the earth.

Your parents had insisted that you finally visit them. You had never been away from home for this long, and they had suspected you'd be on your knees groveling by the first week. Still, you held your own and seemed to be doing well for yourself. So naturally, they had to see the boy who agreed to take you in, who they were sure would break your heart by this point. Perhaps they'd beg for you back while they were at it.

They didn't do that, however, instead greeting you with a hug.

"Darling," your mother says, giving you that familiar tight embrace that left you unable to breathe. "We've missed you."

"Missed you too," you grunt. "How have you two been?"

"Fine, fine, the usual," she says. Her eyes glance over the two of you, and Jungkook quickly locks his hand with yours, fingers interlocked as he gives a tight squeeze of support. "And... you two?"

"Thriving," Jungkook interjects. "She really takes care of me. I don't know how I got along without her."

"I don't do much- he's the one who usually stays up to make sure I'm home safe, as well as help me with the dishes... Or at least tries." The two of you exchange a small smile at that.

"I see..." Your mother's mouth goes small, and at that moment you have a hard time reading her. Or maybe she was having a hard time reading you. Maybe she could sense something was off. That the two of you weren't real.

Your heart started racing in your chest, and you silently prayed to yourself that she wouldn't be able to see through your ruse.

Before you could overthink further, however, she smiled. "Lunch, then?"

Your father claps his hands in delight. "Dear, you'll be glad to know we have your favorite! We had the cooks make it especially for you."

The four of you walk to the dining room to eat, and Jungkook leans in. "Wait, what's your favorite?"

"It's literally just spaghetti."

-

Surprisingly, lunch went better than expected. Your parents asked you and Jungkook exactly how you two came to be, and you had your story under lock. Most of it was the truth- you had reunited at the Senator's party and gotten to know each other through becoming friends. Eventually, the two of you began to form feelings, dating a bit before you decided to leave your parents and move in with him. You explained a lot about the living arrangements between you two, aside from the fact you two were just roommates. You'd explain small things like movie night and how you'd leave your shoes by the door, or how he'd burn anything that wasn't ramen and how he'd wait for you to get home every night without fail.

Before you knew it the lunch was over and you had to leave. Jungkook was getting the motorcycle started, making sure everything was in order while you hung back to speak to your parents at the front door.

"So..." You trailed off, unable to start.

"So?" Your mother looked at you quizzically. "Dear, remember what I told you about finishing everything you start. That includes sentences."

You take a deep breath. "So you're not going to insist I move out of Jungkook's apartment?"

Your parents exchanged looks before turning back to you.

"That was our original plan, however," your father sighs, "it appears that this isn't a situation we can put in our own hands. We'll let you two stay together."

You furrow your brows, confused. "Wait, what? You're letting me stay with him?"

"Of course, darling. We know you may think of us as evil capitalists, or whatever the liberals try to convince you of-"

"Father."

"-but we aren't evil enough to stand in the way of love."

"...Love?"

"Yes, love," your mother sighs. "We were prepared to demand you move out the moment you got to the door, but you look at that boy the same way I look at your father, and the way he looks at me. I suppose you reminded me of how we were in the old days."

"Besides, you do seem very comfortable with the boy. More sure of yourself. Perhaps it is beneficial for you to be living away from your parents- after all, we won't be here forever," your father says.

"Don't say that," you say, frowning.

"It's true, dear. Not that we want it to happen any time soon, or to be morbid, but we're simply glad there's going to be someone to take care of you after we're gone." Your mother looks back to Jungkook, who is now looking at the three of you with curiosity. "He might not be the most dignified boy, despite the fact that he comes from such a prestigious family. However, he loves you, I can say that much. I don't think he'll break your heart any time soon."

"If he does though, I'll kill him," your father threatens.

"You won't be killing anyone," you assure him. "Jungkook treats me well."

"That's all we ask." Your mother gives you a kiss on the forehead. "Love like that can't be faked, my dear. Who are we to step in the way?"

You give the two of them a tight hug, tears springing in the corners of your eyes. You wipe them away quickly before looking back at Jungkook, who was still waiting for you patiently. "Well... I should get going."

"Remember we love you."

"Love you, too."

-

You put down the hot pink helmet, silent. You and Jungkook had just arrived back at the apartment, and neither of you had said a word about your parents.

"So..." Jungkook trails off. "What'd your parents say? Right before we left? It seemed pretty serious."

You were silent as Jungkook continued.

"Let me guess- 'You can't go out with that boy! He's a good for nothing, disgrace-'"

"They said they liked you- us." You cut his impression short. "They said love like ours couldn't be faked. They're letting me continue to live with you."

"...Oh." Jungkook clearly didn't know how to respond to that. He was stunned, a deer in the headlights.

The two of you are silent, awkwardness hanging between you two.

"Ridiculous, isn't it?" you say with a nervous chuckle.

Please say it isn't.

"Yeah, totally," Jungkook laughed along, his smile matching yours. "Must mean we did a good job of faking it, huh?"

I wasn't faking it.

"Maybe we should go into acting," you smiled. "Prepared to have me live with you forever?"

"Always, princess," he grins, ruffling your hair. "You know I can't have a moment go by without you by my side."

"If only my parents could've heard that."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Love like that can't be faked- little do they know."

"Yeah." You wave it off with a laugh, putting an end to the awkward discussion.

Little do they know.

-

Tonight was the night you were finally going to see Jungkook's band, Obsidian Chaos, perform.

Sure, he had many other performances, but you were never able to make them because of work. Your boss, however, seemed to have an extreme case of the swine flu, and therefore was unable to perform her duties. Code: Day off.

So here you were, in a bar that would have any other girl of your social standing shriek in horror. Everyone here looked something like a freak show in a conservative's book, and the place reeked of weed and liquor. You were living for it.

You were singing along to one of the band's newest songs. You knew the words already, having listened to the songs on repeat using your Spotify Premium.

Jungkook looked good on stage- his skin shiny with sweat as he poured his heart out into the songs. He was really revving it up on the guitar, the bassist and drummer both keeping up in stride. They were truly something special, and you found yourself glad that they were a bit more underground. It made you feel like you could keep them to yourself.

It wasn't until they finished you were able to meet the bandmates.

You had never met them before, as they were always practicing in the drummer's garage. They didn't have much need to go to Jungkook's apartment.

They were similar to him, though, also dressed in dark clothing with piercings and tattoos. Equally as hot, in your opinion.

The drummer greets you. "So you're the girl our precious guitarist is going on about!" He picks you up and gives you a hug, twirling as he did so. "I'm the drummer, Jimin!"

"Hey, Jimin!" You didn't even mind how affectionate the guy was, as it didn't seem perverted in the slightest. Perverted hugs were something you had to get used to at a young age, sadly. You shuddered to think back to your father's friends who would give you tight, lingering hugs at 14, all in hopes to feel your developing breasts against their chests.

"Ignore him, he always acts like a puppy whenever there's a pretty girl," the bassist says, extending his hand for you to shake. You did. "I'm Yoongi, the bassist. If I had known Jungkook's roommate was so gorgeous, I would've smoked some of his weed a long time ago."

"I could've just brought it to you, dude," Jungkook says, rolling his eyes.

"I don't trust your shit, man."

"You guys were great up there," you compliment, grinning. "I seriously think Obsidian Chaos is my most played artist on Spotify. The name's pretty neat too- both pretentious and edgy."

"Well, thank you. Jungkook here wanted our name to be ReBex- but luckily seniority rules. We've got a new album coming up soon- Jungkook's gotten a lot of inspiration to write, as of late," Yoongi says. "I wouldn't have thought a girl like you would be into our music, though."

"What's that supposed to mean?" you say teasingly, feigning offense.

"You don't exactly fit in here, sweetheart. You stand out," he chuckles.

"How could she not, though? She's hot!" Jimin exclaims.

"So I'd blend in a bit more in something like this?" You yank Yoongi's beanie off, messing up your hair before sliding it on. You pose in it, wiggling your brows as though to get under Yoongi's skin. "I think I look better in this than you do."

"I agree," Jimin says, smiling.

Yoongi only smirks at that. "I agree too- but I think you'd look better in nothing at all, personally."

"Is that so?"

"Hey hey hey!" Jungkook jumps in before the sexual tension can jump further. "Rule number four! I'm adding this now- no fucking the members of Obsidian Chaos!"

"Wouldn't that include you too?" Jimin questions.

Jungkook thinks for a moment. "Revision! No fucking my bandmates."

You all laugh at that.

-

Jungkook wasn't sure what was keeping you so late.

Today you were supposed to be out clubbing with a few of your friends. You definitely deserved a night of fun, and seeing as you weren't lounging around a mansion anymore, your preppy friends hardly got to see you. Jungkook told you he thought it was a good idea for you to be dragged out, and despite the fact he wished he could've come with you- just to keep an eye on you, of course- he had to tend to the shop and write songs with Obsidian Chaos.

Still, this was a ridiculous hour. He had gotten used to staying up this late for you- your job was an abhorrent one, in his opinion. No one should have to stay at work for that long.

The only thing that was keeping him awake was the worry that wracked his brain. Even he didn't club this late- and he had been to quite a number of clubs.

His heavy lids stayed pried open as he wondered where you were. Were you all right? Was everything ok?

What if you were hurt?

What if you had gotten into an accident on the way there? Or the way back home?

What if some creep roofied you? What if your friends had left you at the club?

He shook his head, running his hands through his hair. No, he had to stay optimistic. You were a grown woman, you could care for yourself.

Right?

He began biting his nails as he read his messages to you, asking when you were coming home. It was a nervous habit he had picked up as a kid. He couldn't believe he was regressing back to these habits, yet, here he was.

He huffed, grabbing a jacket, on his way to the club, when suddenly he heard the rattle of the doorknob.

You burst through the door.

With someone else.

The stranger was all over you, his hands roaming up and down your skimpy dress. You awkwardly kicked the door shut, your eyes firmly shut and mouth pressed against his. You moaned when he pinned you against the door, your wrists trapped in his large hands as his mouth began to travel to the nape of your neck, leaving marks in his wake.

Jungkook was frozen, immobile as he watched you hook your leg around the stranger, drawing him closer, pressing his body impossibly closer to your own. The stranger let out a husky growl that had you shuddering beneath him.

There was something oddly familiar about the stranger, though Jungkook knew he had never seen him before in his life. Maybe it was the tattoos that peaked out from beneath the sleeves of his leather jacket. Maybe it was the combat boots or the multiple ear piercings, or even his shaggy hair.

Jungkook couldn't help but realize the man's alternative style was eerily familiar to his own.

It was at that moment you finally opened your eyes from the pure bliss, only to come face to face with Jungkook.

You gasped in surprise, quickly pushing against the stranger's shoulders to pry him off you. "Taehyung," you said in a serious tone, though you sounded breathless.

The man grunted, confused as to why you wanted to stop. He got off of you, turning around to lock eyes with Jungkook.

"Oh, sorry man, didn't see you there," Taehyung chuckled. "Was occupied, you know?"

Jungkook finally found the words to speak, though his mouth felt dry. It felt as though his tongue were too big. "I- yeah, no worries, dude. I'll leave you two to it."

"I- Jungkook," you said.

"Shit, is she your girl?" Taehyung questioned.

"No, my roommate," Jungkook answered. "I was just waiting for her to get home- make sure she's safe and all."

"So you wouldn't mind if we...?"

"Just, um, keep it down. I'll be heading to bed."

"Sweet, bro," Taehyung grinned, turning back to you, leaning in to give you a kiss.

Jungkook finally unfroze, quick to turn on his heel and retreat to his room. He could go to bed now, seeing that you were home safe and sound. He should have no problem falling asleep, what with the anxiety and worry no longer plaguing him.

Despite this, however, as well as the soundproof headphones he had on his ears, he wasn't able to get a wink of sleep.

It was probably apparent the following morning. He had bags under his eyes and kept looking as though he'd faceplant into his cereal.

"You look like shit this morning," you remarked, reaching over to tousle his hair.

Jungkook noted that your new boyfriend was nowhere to be found. You seemed well put together. Your hair was pulled up in a bun instead of the bed head he had been expecting, and you wore the same pajamas as always. Maybe it was the post-sex glow that made you seem so lively.

"Don't worry about me," he yawned, stirring his spoon around in the cereal. He usually loved Lucky Charms, but he found his appetite... absent. Addressing the elephant in the room, he sighs. "So, where's your boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend?" You looked at him quizzically before a look of realization painted your features. "Oh! You mean Taehyung?"

"That's the fucker."

"I kicked him out once you went to bed," you shrug.

"Huh?"

"We... Well, we didn't do anything. I wasn't in the mood to have sex last night, I guess," you clarified.

"I... um..." Jungkook didn't know what to say.

"Yeah, so... sorry if you put on those bulky headphones of yours. Knowing you, you just played Waterparks at full blast in an attempt to block out noises that weren't being made," you chuckled nervously.

"You didn't have to kick him out on my account," Jungkook said, scratching the back of his neck. "It's still a bit before 3. It's not against the roommate agreement."

"No, no, don't worry. I wanted to," you said, offering a weak smile. "I was just... tired."

"You sure? I mean it- you don't have to stay abstinent on my account. I've brought someone home before. It'd be hypocritical of me being upset with you doing the same."

"I mean it, Jungkook, I wanted to.  I just wasn't in the mood."

You seemed to be in the mood before, Jungkook thought. Had he not walked in, he had no doubt the two of you would've gotten more hot and heavy than earlier.

Jungkook felt guilty for ruining your potential hook up. "Alright, well, if that's what you wanted, my guy."

Your smile faltered a little. "No princess?"

Jungkook chuckled warmly at that, reaching forward to pull you in. "My bad, princess," he said properly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I was just relieved that you were here and safe. I won't lie when I say I wasn't worried- I was just about to head out to look for you."

"Thank you for staying up so late for me."

"Anything for my princess."

-

"I'm pretty sure your father would send a SWAT team on my ass if he found out I was letting his little girl do this," Jungkook laughed, watching as you coughed after taking a hit.

"Shut-" cough "-the fuck up, Jungkook."

The two of you were sitting on his couch, smoking weed. It was the first time you had ever smoked pot with Jungkook, as the moment you got home after a long day at work, you asked whether or not you two could smoke together. Well, demanded was a more accurate term. Jungkook didn't question it though, instead giving you that same, obnoxious, amused smirk.

"Is this your first time smoking weed, baby?"

"I haven't smoked since I was 16," you say, taking another hit, letting it settle deep into your lungs before coughing numerous times. "It was only twice with some guy who thought I'd blow him if I got high enough. My first time I didn't feel anything despite four hits. The second time I took 6, but his weed was so weak I didn't feel much. Man, was he pissed."

"A guy like Wonderbread, I'm guessing?"

You laugh. "Alas, even commoners feel privileged. I'll let you know though I didn't even touch his little cheesedick."

"You just used his pot and took advantage of him, huh?"

"Oh please! That's not it at all. Either I take advantage of him than the other way around. His intentions were totally sketchy, hoping I'd become inebriated enough to fulfill the lewd fantasies he had garnered. If he was willing to waste weed on a girl, he should've left it at that. I didn't owe him anything. No matter how much shit guys give, whether it's weed or Lamborghinis, you don't owe them anything. You don't owe them love, sex, or a relationship. It's their choice whether or not they want to buy your affections, but those feelings cannot be owed. Women are not in debt to men because they fool themselves into thinking that they deserve blowjobs because they're 'nice' or 'waste shit' on the woman."

Jungkook whistled. "I sense a lot of pent up anger today. I gotta say, I never expected you to demand my stash. Wait, no, I did. But I expected it sooner."

"My boss is a bitch," you mutter. "She's great at her job, and I admire her, but God, she's a cunt."

"What'd she do?"

"She's just-" You let out a frustrated groan, taking a deep inhale from the blunt before puffing it out. "She's so condescending and demanding. She expects me to be little miss perfect and thinks I'm lazy because I'm privileged. It's like no matter how hard I work and prove myself she still can't see me as anything other than a spoiled rich brat. Every tiny mistake I make confirms it, and every big accomplishment goes ignored."

"Are you unhappy enough to quit?"

You sigh, taking another hit. You could feel it setting in now. Your limbs felt lighter, but your head a little heavier. One thing was for sure- this shit was a lot stronger than what you had at 16. "No. I love my job, and I still respect and admire her. I may complain about it a lot, but I still love it."

"You complain about me a lot, though, princess," he laughed, nudging his thigh against yours. "Does that mean you love me?"

"Well, yeah."

Jungkook tenses up at that. "You do?"

If your head wasn't as cloudy as it was now, you wouldn't have opened your trap. You felt uncaring, however, speaking freely as you took another hit. "Yeah, I do. I love you. We've lived together for months, Jungkook. You're one of the people I'm closest to. You mean the world to me."

You lean your head against his shoulder, fluttering your lids as you shut them, concentrating on his breathing. The rise and fall of his shoulders lift your head along with them, and he lets out a chuckle. His fingers comb through your hair, doting. "I love you too."

You take a hit, playfully blowing some of the smoke in his face. "I'll always be your princess, right?"

He smiles again. "Didn't figure you as the affectionate stoner. Usually, you're acting like a brat, y'know."

"What can I say," you hum, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck, planting a small kiss there. "Pot gets my panties wet."

Jungkook freezes underneath you, and you continue, sucking lightly on the skin to leave small pink and red marks, nipping a bit. You put your blunt in a nearby ashtray and find yourself climbing into his lap, his blown-out pupils locked with your own.

You wouldn't be doing this if you were sober. But right now you were releasing every pent up frustration you had- whether it was anger towards your boss or the sexual attraction you felt to Jungkook.

Jungkook's silent, only staring at you, waiting for your next move. You place your hands on his chest, feeling how quickly his heartbeat raced. You wondered for a moment if yours was doing the same.

And then you stopped thinking.

Your hands slid up from his chest and around his neck, tangling into his long locks as you close your eyes and kiss him. He kisses you back after a few seconds reaching behind you to put out his blunt before gripping onto your thighs, tugging you closer to his body.

You two were completely intertwined, wrapped around one another like ivy, a small, intimate moment that felt so grand in the scheme of things.

And then it stopped.

Jungkook pulled back, gripping your arms to push your chest a few inches from his, ending the kiss. "We can't."

"Why not?" You weren't angry, but rather curious. Your voice didn't even show a hint of confusion, instead instantly accepting it. Maybe it was the sober part of you that knew what you two were doing shouldn't be happening.

"I just... We're roommates."

"I don't remember not hooking up being one of the rules."

"It's an unwritten rule not to sleep with your roommate, I think," Jungkook says, his cheeks turning red. It was as though he were admitting he wanted to sleep with you.

"But you flirt with me all the time and act like you want to..."

"Fuck, I do, princess, I do." Jungkook brushed your hair out of your face, looking into your eyes with as much sincerity as he could muster. "But I don't want to be like that asshole you met at 16, or Wonderbread, or any other asshole you met. I don't want you to think I had ulterior motives or I'm trying to take advantage of you in this state. For all you know I'm exactly like the asshole before but with better shit."

"But you're not, Jungkook. You respect me, I know that."

"Just trust me on this, ok? Nothing changes between us." He presses a kiss against your forehead, as though to further confirm it. "I still love you, of course. You're my roommate, after all. It makes living together a lot easier. I just don't want you to wake up and see me as another douche who saw you as nothing more than a status symbol."

Your voice is quiet, like a child who's parents were disappointed in them. "Ok."

"You did nothing wrong, Y/N."

You nod your head. "Mhm."

Jungkook sighs, gripping onto you tightly before standing up, walking you to your room. "C'mon. Let's get you to bed, princess."

-

Usually, when something was up between you and Jungkook, you'd resolve it quickly.

You guys had been roommates for what felt like forever, now. Of course, you had issues. Of course, you've gotten into arguments. Typically you'd resolve it quickly.

After the encounters with Solji and Taehyung you guys talked about it immediately. Even the smaller things. One time Jungkook accused you of hating a new song he was working on, and you guys argued about it then and there. Another time he had been lazy and forgot to do the dishes, and you had been in a bad mood and lashed out over the small detail. Another time you were just looking to fight for the sake of fighting, and Jungkook called you out on it, resulting in, what do you know, more fighting.

This time, however, was different.

The two of you were barely talking, mainly speaking in grunts and noncommital nods of the head. Neither of you really even used the living room anymore, simply going into the kitchen to make food and eating in isolation in your rooms.

Jungkook still waited for you to get home, though. He wouldn't greet you, however.

You two still kept up with your dishes and cooking, sometimes leaving the food for the other on the countertop.

You started lining up your shoes instead of kicking them to the side, as though to be more mindful.

Both of you hated it, though.

A week without interacting with the person you lived with? Who treated you as a best friend? Agony.

Jungkook was the one who acted on it.

He knocked on your door before opening it. "We need to talk."

Clearly he had just gotten back from hanging out with his bandmates, what with the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead and his locks looking particularly unruly. He hadn't even bothered taking off his leather jacket. You could only guess that he marched directly from the front door to your room. It was such a stark contrast from you, who was only wearing pajama shorts and a tank top.

"Why?" You felt shame and embarrassment, your cheeks burning red. Every time you looked at him you could only think of when he pushed you away. When you had made a fool of yourself and climbed all over him. When you made him uncomfortable and overstepped your boundaries. When you ruined everything.

"You know why." It was clear Jungkook was in a confrontational, no-nonsense mood now, having finally mustered up the courage to face this head-on. "We need to talk about that night."

"We were high-"

"No, it was more than that. Otherwise, we wouldn't be in this... this funk."

You could feel tears springing up in your eyes. "Yeah? So?"

"What do you mean so?"

"I mean so?" You let out an exasperated sigh, still unable to meet his eye. "Who cares?"

"I care!"

"I don't want to have this conversation."

"Well, I do." He kicked the door behind him, crossing his arms. "Why're you acting so weird?"

"What? I'm not the only one acting weird, you know. It's a two-way street," you seethe.

"I've been making attempts! I have," he insisted. "I tried talking to you just yesterday in the kitchen when you were washing dishes. You just ran away to hole yourself up in your room. We need to move past this."

"I'm sorry, ok!" You fume, crying out the words. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Sorry for avoiding me?"

"Yes- No-" You bury your face in your hands. "I'm just... I'm embarrassed, ok? You wouldn't understand."

"You're embarrassed because of that night? Because- what, it's me?" Jungkook tilted his head, as though wanting you to meet his eye. "Any other guy and you wouldn't be acting this way."

"Yes, partially because it's you. You said nothing would change between us but clearly it has," you sighed. "I fucked everything up, Jungkook."

"No, you didn't. I told you that you didn't do anything wrong."

"But I did! You respected me at least, and stopped it from going further because you knew that I wasn't in the right mindset or wasn't capable- I don't know, but the point is that you put in my feelings and thoughts for if I'd be sober and such, especially with that big monologue I had given. But..."

"But what? I don't get it. Did I do something wrong?"

"No, you didn't. I'm glad you respected me. But I didn't respect you." You wiped at your eyes, frustrated with yourself. "You were also smoking that night. Yet you thought of me and if I was in the right headspace to consent or think about things, but I didn't think about you. I of all people should've been able to realize that."

"Oh." Jungkook seemed stunned, as though that wasn't the answer he was expecting. "Y/N, it's ok. I've got a lot more resistance than you do, and I'm a lot bigger. I wasn't nearly as affected as you were."

"It still doesn't take away the embarrassment of climbing all over you. I feel stupid," you huffed.

"You're not stupid-" Jungkook stood in front of you and reached out, only to have his hand slapped away.

"Shut up," you hissed. "You're not the one who made a fool of themself."

"Don't lash out at me, princess. You didn't come off as stupid or anything else- you're just overthinking as always."

"As always?!" you mimic. "You're full of it, you know that? God, I hate you sometimes."

You try to push at his chest out of annoyance, but it grabs your hand, keeping it there. "Say that again, I dare you," he growled.

You gulped, able to feel the deep vibrations against the palm of your hand.

You were quiet, whimpering as he towered over you, with you still sitting on the bed and him standing before you. Your eyes lock with his, finally, his hard glare making you cave in on yourself, all of the rage dying within you, leaving something else in its wake. Sensing your submission and the shift in the air, Jungkook only lets out a dark chuckle, leaning in.

You lean back, falling onto the bed as he climbs over you, one leg between your own. You brace yourself, feeling your muscles get tight as he hovers over you, not touching you. You feel the anticipation build as his nose grazes the side of your neck, similarly to how you did that night. His scent overwhelmed you, despite the fact you should've gone nose blind to it after all this time. Still, his cologne and natural scent overpowered you, enveloping you completely.

"You know, I'm getting real tired of your attitude, little girl."

You stiffen at that, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Have you had any alcohol, or smoked anything, or taken anything that might affect your senses?"

"Huh? No?"

"Do you want me to touch you, princess?"

"I..."

"Be a big girl and tell me what you want, baby."

Baby. Princess. Little girl. All names he had called you before, but tonight they hit differently.

"Yes."

"Do you want me?"

"Jungkook..."

"I want to hear you say it, Y/N."

You took in a deep breath. "I want you, Jungkook."

He smirked at that. "That's a good girl."

Before you had time to process anything, he was positioning you where you were lying on your stomach beneath him, with his knees on either side of you as he straddled the backs of your thighs.

"Jungkook-"

He yanked down your shorts, exposing your panties before giving a sharp spank to your ass.

"You know, it's really unfair that I call you so many pet names and don't have a special one of my own," he says, his voice hot in your ear. "Don't you think so, princess?"

You shuddered beneath him. "Yes."

"Yes, what?" Another spank.

You groaned at the sensation, burying your face into the mattress as you muttered the words.

He pulled your hair, lifting your head so you couldn't hide your face. "What was that? I don't think I heard you. What did I say about using your big girl words?" There was a rain of spanks with those last few words. You could feel your ass start to warm up now.

"Yes, Daddy," you said, biting on your lip from the pain of the slaps. The pure irony of the daddy kink being used, no doubt because of your daddy issues. Your revenge against your parents using Jungkook had finally come full circle.

Jungkook grinned, giving you two more slaps, this time as a reward. "Now was that so hard?"

You feel his fingers go down to the wet spot on your panties, now sticking to your folds, evident from your arousal. You shook your head, gripping the sheets. "No, Daddy."

"Mm, I think my princess liked her spanking," Jungkook hummed, twirling the pads of his digits around your clit, watching you squirm beneath him. "Did you like being put in your place for being such a brat?"

"Fffffucckkk." You couldn't think straight, your hips raising from the bed to buck at his hand, needing more friction.

"Such language, princess." He gives a quick swat to your pussy, watching you twitch and yelp in surprise. "I would've thought a little rich girl like you was taught to avoid such language."

Jungkook was generous as always, giving you what you needed as he continued to pet your folds and rub your clit. He seemed to know exactly how to touch you, drawing small circles as he admired how you squirmed and panted into the sheets. You'd wiggle beneath him, your skin still red from his earlier ministrations.

"I-I'm gonna-" You bit into the sheets. You've never cum this fast with anyone before, and over such a small thing. Jungkook was just rubbing you over your panties and you were losing it. You'd never live this down.

"Oh? Gonna cum in your panties like the disgusting little girl you are?" Jungkook let out a dark, sinister chuckle, leaning down so his lips could be felt at the shell of your ear. "Go ahead and cum, dirty girl."

You felt yourself come undone, thighs shaking as you moaned into the sheets, knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping them. Jungkook rubbed you through it, letting you see the orgasm until its end.

You panted as he flipped you onto your back, petting your hair as you came down from your high. He pressed his hand against your cheek, letting you feel the cool metal of his rings against your hot skin. "How're you doing, baby?"

"I-I'm good," you murmur, eyes drooping and fluttering. "Thank you, Daddy." You turn your head to the side, capturing his thumb in your mouth, sucking on it lightly as you twirled your thumb around it, tasting the metal against your buds.

"Fuck," Jungkook groaned. "You're gonna be the death of me."

Slipping his hand away, he pulls your clothes off, one by one, until you were completely bare beneath him. Your panties are the last to go.

"I think you've ruined these," he chuckles, pulling on the waistband of your underwear to let it snap back against you. "Now it's your turn."

You don't bother covering up, comfortable with him and in your own body. Jungkook grins, leaving a trail of kisses down your chest as he descends further down.

He spreads your legs, arriving at his destination. You let your fingers gravitate to his silky hair, tugging to bring him closer to your goal. He chuckles at the action, answering your request as he lets his mouth finally meet your folds, laving his tongue over the area to help you relax.

You gasp at the feeling, arching as he gets quick to work spreading you open with two fingers so he could have easier access to the area. Your thighs twitch as his tongue finally brushes against your clit, and upon noticing how sensitive you still were, he runs his tongue over it, again and again, a smile evident as you let your thighs tense with every movement.

It wasn't until his lips finally suctioned around it that you felt his finger slip into your entrance as well. It was easy, no friction necessary from your copious arousal, and the feeling overwhelmed you. He crooked his finger up as he pumped into you, finding the bundle of nerves with ease as you found it harder and harder to contain your moans. Before long he had to insert another finger, scissoring the digits to stretch you out.

"So fucking tight," he panted, breathless as he continued to place sloppy kisses against you, rubbing your g-spot in an effort to see you squirm. "Gotta stretch you out to take me. You're so small, I'll probably break you."

"I want you to break me," you reply immediately. "Please, please, please, Daddy!"

Jungkook let out a smirk at that. "Seems like that bitchy attitude is finally replaced with manners. Since you asked so nicely..."

His mouth returns to your cunt, french kissing and sucking harshly on your clit has his hand hammers into you, rough and sloppy thrusts helping catapult you towards your high. Before long your eyes were rolling back, hips rising into the air as you feel your high overpower you, and you were cumming against Jungkook's tongue.

He eased his ministrations, slipping his fingers out despite your whine at being empty. He let his tongue run over your folds, soothing them before he came up for air, lips meeting yours with a sloppy kiss. You realized the two of you hadn't kissed at all since this whole ordeal, and you pulled him closer between your legs, pulling him closer as you let your tongues dance together.

He breaks away again, but keeps his forehead against yours, as though to assure you he doesn't intend on ending it just yet. "How're you holding up, baby?"

"Mm good," you hum, still high on bliss. You reached down to his crotch, palming it, pleased to feel the stiffness beneath the material of his pants. "Want Daddy's cock."

"How can I say no to that? You just can't get enough, can you? C'mon then, take me out so I can get inside that dirty cunt."

You do as you're told, finally able to get his cock free as you hook the waistband of both his pants and boxers around his thighs. As you do so he takes off his leather jacket, tossing it to the corner of the room.

He pumps himself, jerking off into his hand as you watch. He was about as big as you expected- then again you always fantasized about Jungkook having a big cock. One by one he was fulfilling all of your fantasies, and creating even more.

He pressed the head of his cock against your pussy, rubbing up and down the slit for lubrication. You ogled his size, wondering how much the stretch of his girth would burn. As though reading your mind, or just the expressions on your face, Jungkook stops. "Are you sure you want me in this messy cunt of yours, baby?" he questions. "We can wait. I can eat you out some more if you want."

"No, I need you inside me," you immediately respond.

He can't help but grin at that, cooing at you with a condescending, sickly sweet voice. "No please? So demanding. Spoiled little princess, used to getting what she wants." He pushes inside of you inch by inch, and you hiss at the stretch, loving the slight burn.

When he bottoms out inside of you your foreheads are pressed together, hot and sweaty, but oddly intimate. A single tear runs down your cheek, and he reaches up to wipe it away, cradling your cheek.

"Look at me, Y/N."

You do so, eyes locking with his. "I'm ok," you confirm before he can ask. You were able to read his expressions as easily as he could read yours. "Move, please."

He nods, doing so, starting a slow rhythmic pace as he pumps into you. You groan at the feeling. You couldn't remember the last time you had been intimate with someone, especially someone who fills you up so completely, unable to even avoid the sensitive parts within you.

Soon Jungkook was picking up the pace, the thrusts becoming harder and quicker, more precise as he lifted himself up onto his arms to look at you, admiring how your eyes would roll back every now and then. He reached between you two, spreading your lips apart with two fingers to properly look at how well you were taking him.

"Fuck, you're just sucking me in baby," he hissed, doing his best to compose himself. "This pussy was made for me, wasn't it? No one else."

You moaned at that, biting your lip. "D-Daddy..."

"That's right- Daddy. This pussy was made for Daddy, all for him," Jungkook went on, now beginning to rub your clit with your thumb, feeling you clenching down on him with his words."Remember that. Who am I again?"

"My Daddy."

"That's right. Yours. Who's the only person who can fuck you this way?"

"You. Fuck, Daddy, I'm gonna cum. Let me cum for you?"

"Good girl. And who are you going to cum for?"

"You Da-Daddy- ffffffuck-"

"That's right, cum for me. Give me one more, I know you can. Be a good little girl and cream on my cock. Get me as nice and messy as your dirty little cunt."

Your eyes rolled back as your third orgasm shook through you, more powerful than the first two. Droplets of cum sprayed out, getting all over both you and Jungkook. You moaned, shaking as Jungkook groaned in satisfaction.

"Fuck, you just squirted everywhere," Jungkook said, his thrusts getting sloppy. "You're so perfect."

"Cum in me, Daddy. Use me," you asked, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "Use my body."

"Shit, shit, shit-" Jungkook grabbed your wrists, roughly pinning them to either side of you as he thrust into you like a mad man, using your body to jerk off before finally, he was erupting inside of you, filling you to the brim as he bottomed out inside of you. He panted, hands squeezing your little wrists like a vice. You were positive there would be bruises by the morning.

Soon he collapsed on top of you, sweaty and out of breath. He rolled over, chest heaving as he stared at you, grabbing you and tugging you close so he could bury his face in the juncture of your neck, acting as the big spoon as you two cuddled.

You slowly regained your breath, reaching back to comb through his hair.

"Just stay like this for a minute," he said, eyes closed and voice soft, a stark contrast to his dominating demeanor before. "Let me just hold you for a few minutes and then we can go take a bath, ok? I'll take care of you."

You let him do exactly that.

-

The morning after didn't feel as awkward as you had expected, Instead of the uncomfortable air that had been left after the two of you made out, it was oddly comfortable. Not the kind of comfortable that was there before, with you two bickering and joking with each other, but rather a far more affectionate one.

The two of you had been waiting for months to be able to touch each other how you wanted, and now you had the opportunity. You weren't able to keep your hands off of Jungkook, and not even in a sexual way. You'd let your hands roam freely over his body, whether it was combing through his fluffy hair or feeling the broad expanse of his chest, and the hard muscles beneath his band tees.

Jungkook wasn't much better. You'd be doing as simple as making yourself a bowl of ramen and he'd press up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your hair, breathing in your scent. It was like nothing was between you anymore, and it felt so right. Jungkook was your best friend, your roommate. The man you had lusted and pined after for what felt like forever. He just got you.

Or that's what you thought at least.

The two of you were watching a movie again, as always, but instead of the casual arm draped around your shoulders you two were completely intertwined, ignoring the movie as you two shared small, slow kisses. You let yourself melt in the moment, the taste of him addictive.

He gives you that look that you love, the one where his gaze is deceptively soft and solely focused on you.

"You know," he says between pecks, "I meant what I said before."

"Meant what?" you smile.

"That I love you." He pushes a lock of hair behind your ear, staring at you. "I think I've been in love with you since my father's little party."

You stiffened.

In love?

That was very different from the love you had interpreted.

You plaster on a fake smile, hoping he didn't notice how you had tensed up. "Is that so?"

"Mhm," he hums, pressing a small kiss on the tip of your nose. "Did you mean it when you said you loved me?"

"I did," you tell him, burying your face into his chest to avoid looking at him, focusing on the vibrations of his chest as he hummed with delight, wrapping his arms tighter around you as he pressed his lips against the top of your head.

That night you slept in his bed, his arm wrapped tightly around your middle. You didn't get a wink of sleep that night, and the moment he rolled over to his side, you knew what to do.

When Jungkook woke up, you were gone.

You had seemingly left no traces. Your bed was neatly made, your dresser drawers were empty. It was like you didn't exist.

Jungkook was absolutely distraught. He had the shop closed down for a bit, instead choosing to lay around in the apartment you once shared, playing the same few chords on his guitar.

He was angry. He was sad. He was pissed and frustrated and miserable and confused. He felt so stupid for fucking everything up. He wondered if what you said was a lie. Was everything between you a lie? It had to be. How else could you just cast him to the side like that? Like he meant nothing to you?

In the end, it seemed you truly were just using him. He should've known any affections you had for him were just some phase. You were just indirectly lashing out at your parents and using what you knew would piss them off. He knew that since the beginning, and still let himself get fooled.

That didn't stop him from sulking, however.

It wasn't until Yoongi barged into his apartment that Jungkook was forced to do something.

"What the hell man? You've been skipping out on practices- where have you been?" Yoongi looked around, seeing the apartment a mess.  Jungkook didn't look much better, sitting upside down on his couch in sweats and greasy hair, strumming on his guitar. "Jesus Christ, dude. I got you were a mess from the lyrics you've been sending me, but this takes the cake."

"What do you want, Yoongs?"

"I want you to pick your ass up and get out of this funk! I've noticed you haven't been running your shop for a little bit, and it seems clear to me that you've just been sulking around. Where's that roommate of yours? I would've thought she'd tell you to get over whatever it is you're sobbing about and do something about it."

"I don't want to talk about her," Jungkook muttered, striking a chord that had many of the notes clashing.

Yoongi winced at the sound. "I always thought that you two weren't just roommates. She always looked at you how a puppy looks at their owner- and you weren't much better."

"Well, she's gone now," Jungkook said bitterly.

"What happened?"

"She didn't love me, simple as that."

Yoongi shook his head. "That's a lie, dude. That girl was crazy about you."

"Well, that's what happened. I told her I was in love with her and the next thing I know, I wake up and she's gone."

"Maybe it was something else," Yoongi shrugged. "Then again, you knew her better than me. But you can't let some girl keep you cooped up in your apartment. Sulking isn't going to bring her back. Obsidian Chaos is going to be releasing the next album in just a month- you need to have your shit together by then. Don't tell me that you want to quit the band."

"No," Jungkook sighed. "It's just... I miss her. And I feel confused and-"

"You feel about a million emotions, my man, I know. And none of them are exactly helping to motivate you," Yoongi finished. "Do you really want her to see you in this state, though, when she comes back? If she comes back?"

"No," he admitted.

"You can't expect her to come and save you. You've got to save yourself first. She was never responsible for your happiness- remember that. Pick yourself back up and who knows, maybe she'll be waiting for you."

Jungkook did pick himself back up after that. He took a shower and opened the shop, going day by day, and though he still felt heartache and longing for you, he was able to pull himself together a bit more with each passing moment.

Obsidian Chaos released their next album, Oblivion, shortly after. Jungkook wrote most of the lyrics, and every single one was about you. Maybe it was like a siren call, trying to call you back to him. Luckily for them one of the title tracks blew up on a few websites and apps, giving them a lot of coverage and publicity. Their popularity had blown up overnight, radios constantly playing the hit song, making it impossible to escape their sound.

It was a rainy day, about a week after the release of Oblivion when there was a knock at the door. Jungkook thought it was a bit too early for him to have stalkers, but he was precautious, looking through the peephole.

To his surprise, it was you. Your hair was soaking wet, your designer clothes sticking to your skin. Your makeup seemed to be running a little.

Jungkook immediately swung the door open, shocked. You were here. You were really here.

"Hi," you said, your voice meek and small. "Can I come in?"

Jungkook stepped aside to let you in, closing the door behind him. He was speechless. There were so many things he had wanted to say to you, weeks of planning some long monologue for nothing. It felt strange seeing you in his apartment, despite the fact you had been there countless times before and lived there yourself. You seemed foreign, out of place, even though it hadn't been that long.

"Congrats on your success, by the way," you said, filling the silence. "Oblivion seems to be a big hit."

"You heard it?"

"I stayed up all night waiting for the release. Besides, your song plays everywhere I go. People love it. I couldn't escape your voice even if I wanted to."

"The song was about you."

"Yeah... I know." You wiped your wet face, taking in a deep breath.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Jungkook finally asked.

Your breathing was shaky. "I came to apologize. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness but... It was wrong for me to flake out like that, to leave without explanation."

"Why did you?"

You seemed unable to look him in the eye. "Every time a guy told me he loved me, that he was in love with me, it turned out to just be to use me. It was a way to get on my good side and use me for... Well, ulterior motives. When you said you loved me, I had spent so much time convincing myself that you didn't see me that way that I assumed you only meant platonically. Even if I wanted it to be in a romantic sense. When you confirmed, though, that you were in love with me, it just sparked so many memories of guys before. I was stupid. You've proven time and time again that you're honest and genuine, and that you respect me in a way those boys never could, but I couldn't handle it. I needed time away to figure my shit out. So I left and went to my parents', and I told them everything. The fake dating, the roommate situation, the job, that you were in love with me- all of it.

"My parents have been wrong about a lot of things. About what I should be, about what kind of guy would make a suitable husband, but they were right about one thing." Your eyes finally locked with his. "I was stupid to let you go, especially when I'm as head over heels over you as you are for me."

"So..." Jungkook didn't know what to say, overwhelmed with your speech. "What does this mean?"

"It means I love you too, Jungkook. I'm in love with you. I meant it when I said it back then, the same way you meant it. I took a taxi and ran over here as soon as I realized that. I've been in love with you for God knows how long, and I want to be with you, for real this time. That is... if you'll take me back."

Jungkook couldn't help but melt at that, smiling as he pulled you into a tight embrace, despite how your wet form began to dampen his clothes. "Always, princess."

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[wandering-travesty]

Off To The Races

 Zeke’s life wasn’t supposed to be like this. His father would have a spontaneous brain aneurism if he saw the daily goings on of the younger Yeager’s household on his days off. Horrid amounts of smoking outside, snow or shine, day-drinking without a second thought, and lonely, not by choice. He had honest-to-god tried to live the life his father wanted for him. He married a woman straight out of law school and knocked her up a few months after. They raised that kid for a year then repeated the process. They lived, laughed, and loved for a few years, then, as a surprise to no one, the divorce came along. His wife had run off with a lump sum of money and started a new life out of state. He got left with two kids, substance abuse issues, and a law firm to run. He was stressed, depressed, and by the holiest powers above, was he horny. 

 Ignoring the horniness for a moment, everything changed when you came around. Every inch of his world brightened, almost like a light at the end of a tunnel. You gave him some form of hope, and reminded him that life wasn’t all doom and gloom. You were still in college, looking for some extra funds to help pay your tuition; a lawyer that doubled as a father of two was the perfect target. You had shown up in your prettiest outfit, almost as if you were showing off for him. Being the kind of man he was, Zeke couldn’t help but hire you. Some sweet, fetching little thing coming up to his decadent doorstep in a tiny little tennis skirt and begging to take care of his kids? That was something he could never turn away. 

 So, you became the official caretaker of Zeke’s little angels. You truly adored looking after them while their, admittedly handsome, father slaved away at his big, important law firm. You rang the doorbell right as the kids were waking up, Zeke greeting you at the door already dressed in one of his repulsively expensive suits. You talked over scones and coffee and made the kids just about anything they wanted. He would leave, and you would get the kids dressed and out the door with ample time to catch the bus. You’d clean the house, make yourself some lunch, play with the family dog. The golden retriever was just another cliche. But you still loved the mutt, especially since every family member loved him, too. You could tell because Zeke had named him after some long-dead baseball player, meaning he would be enamoured with the thing no matter what.  

 It was fun, picking up on little details about Zeke, or Mr. Yeager, as you called him. He loved baseball and would talk about it for hours on end if you let him, and he hated strawberry icecream for some unexplained reason. He was the face of success for his entire life, from being a star pitcher on his little league team back home to captain of the debate team in high school; he had never really failed at anything or gotten robbed of what he wanted. He was a winner in everything he had ever tried. He had mentioned how high-strung his parents were, and how they’d gone through a divorce of their own when he was young. He and his step-brother never got along that well, and had actually turned out to be very different people. His family life was anything but smooth, and he feared his kids would look back on their childhood in the same light. You guessed that’s why tonight was happening. 

 “Alright, I’m entrusting my children, dog, house, and painfully expensive belongings to you for the night.” He was dressed to the nines, hell, the tens. He wore an umber sport coat, mustard turtleneck sweater, a thick black belt, grey slacks, chestnut oxfords, and the most expensive golden watch you had ever seen. His flaxen hair shined perfectly in the low light of the entranceway; it was official: you wanted to fuck him. Rather, you wanted him to fuck you. You wanted him to fuck you stupid and make you squirt all over that pretty watch, and his even prettier face. 

 “I’ve got it covered, Mr. Yeager.” His youngest son wrapped his arms around your legs as the dog rubbed his head into your palm. “Knock ‘er dead!” You gave him your cheesiest smile and thumbs up. He chuckled at you as his eldest son grabbed your free hand. 

 “You’ve got this, Dad!” He cheered, starting to drag you to the living room. 

 “Thank you, Atticus. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave a weak smile, turning to leave through the large oak door. It was awful, how badly he wanted to stay there with you and the kids. He wanted to chase Atticus down the hall as the rest of you ran after him, laughing all the way. He wanted to put on some old, boring movie only he wanted to watch and feel your breath on his neck as you fell asleep just after the kids and dog sitting on the floor below you. He wanted to feel your warmth in his bed. He wanted to see what you looked like backed up against a wall. Heaving after an especially passionate kiss. With your legs over your head, screaming his name. The sweat dripping down your face as you came undone beneath him. The little whimpers you’d make as he pulled out of you and cradled you in his arms. He wanted you, not this random woman off of some shitty dating site. He didn’t really want the booze, or the men, or the women, or the money, or the white picket fence, or his father’s approval; he just wanted - no - he needed you. Your game of cat and mouse, seeing which playful “sweetheart” or coy little “Mr. Yeager” would be the one to tip you over the edge of more than friends.  

 “Zeke? That’s you, right?” The tall blonde woman in a sleek black suit walked towards him with an outstretched hand. She could’ve easily been a full foot taller than him. Interesting.

 “Yes. Yelena, correct?” But she wasn’t you. He just wanted to get this night of false wining and dining over with so he could come home to you. You in his big, expensive house. Better yet, his big, expensive bed.

 - 

 You sat and watched the clock after the kids went to bed. It ticked and tocked, back and forth, over and over. It had been about an hour since you’d put them down for the night. You couldn’t wait for Zeke to get home for much longer. Butterflies buzzed through your stomach when you heard the doorbell ring.

 “Mr. Yeager?” You opened the door to the sight of your employer with his shirt halfway unbuttoned, glasses falling off his face, and hair an absolute bird’s nest. 

 “Hey, beautiful.” He purred, slumping onto your shoulder, trying and failing to be smooth. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in my house, huh?” He looked up at you over the rim of his glasses. The way his eyes glimmered a dark shade of teal lit your entire body on fire. Feeling his full weight on top of you only made it spread farther.

 “Babysitting your kids, for starters.” You maneuvered your bodies to have his arm wrapped around your shoulder as you dragged him back into the house. “Apparently I’ll be babysitting you, too.” You mumbled, just then realizing exactly how muscular he was. You sat him down on the leather couch and started to walk to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. You didn’t have much experience with alcohol, but you believed water helped with it somehow.

 “Damn. Loving the view from back here, gorgeous.” He leaned forwards with his elbows on his knees, licking his chapped lips. You jumped at the sudden compliment. You couldn’t remember him being so…dirty before. You walked a little faster than you already were, wanting to get away from him before you made a stupid decision. You poured a tall glass of water, walking back to the couch where Zeke was now lounging, legs spread far enough to leave barely anything to the imagination.  

 “Hey there, doll. Got somethin’ for me?” He giggled, lowering his head from where he had been resting it. His eyes were something to behold, and the deep rooted confidence and downright cockiness behind them only served to make you shiver. You shuffled closer, a bit skittish at the sight of the beast before you. 

 “It’s just water.” You sat down on the table in front of him. “It’s supposed to help with your metabolism, I think.” Your voice was a higher pitch than usual, feeling an odd pressure in your throat every time you spoke.

 “What a smart little thing you are.” He praised. It felt genuine, and you started to feel hotter. You handed him the glass, trying your best to avoid eye contact. He took the glass, and almost as if he had sensed your intentions, took your chin between his fingers and forced you to look into his deep, ocean eyes. He leaned back a bit, giving you a better view of his exposed chest. There was a light layer of golden hair overtop of his expansive chest, and it seemed to trail down the rest of his body. You wanted to find out if that was true. Still holding eye contact with you, he tipped the glass and send the water spilling down his shirt. You knew that wasn’t just drunken clumsiness, but a calculated measure to get in your pants.

 “Whoops.” He said, eyes cold and emotionless as his words. “You better clean that up, sweetheart. We both know I can’t take care of myself in this state.” You moved closer to him, hands unsure of where they were going. You were shaking a bit, and you didn't have a towel on you. You decided the best course of action was to unbutton his shirt the rest of the way. You felt down his chest, gently tugging on his nipples. He let out a soft groan as you continued to feel him up. 

 “You’re gettin’ a little handsy there, baby. You want something from me?” He pet your hair as you moved further down on his chest. You kissed and gave kitten licks, appreciating every inch and curve of his muscular form. You couldn’t get enough of him, try as you might.

 “I fuckin’ knew it.” He pulled you by your hair to force you to look at him.

 “Filthy little harlot.” He squeezed you cheeks, forcing your mouth open. You looked confused until you felt a glob of spit hit your tongue. You swallowed like it was second nature. 

 “You’re just here for my dick, huh?” You continued to kiss and lick down his abdomen, savoring every ounce of him you could; the smell of cinnamon, menthol, and saltwater hit your nose, intoxicating you further and further the more you breathed him in. “I bet it’s all you think about. Especially when those fingers rub that pretty little cunt until you cum all over yourself.” You let out a whine, signifying exactly how right he was.

 “Yeah.” You dragged your tongue up his six-pack, savoring the slightly salty taste. “Think about you every night.” You licked a stripe down the same line you had just gone up. “Only way I can get to sleep.” He smiled the warmest smile you had ever seen him produce. Such a sweet little thing for him, getting off to thoughts of him railing you silly in order to have a good night’s rest. Your submissive, horny mind was so focused on him you couldn’t get to bed without him. You were perfection in human form. Truly a goddess sent from above. He would worship you in the most degrading way possible.

 “I knew you were dirty, I just needed to force you to show me.” He continued to pet your hair like you were some kind of beloved family pet. You felt so small under his touch; so fragile, as if one touch could blow you away forever. You loved the feeling more than life itself. You felt like you could never live without it again. Touching yourself while thinking about him wouldn’t do the trick; not after you had felt the real thing.

 “That’s it, honey, kiss me like you mean it.” He teased, knowing exactly what was running through your head. Sure, he was no master of seduction, but he had bedded plenty before, and he knew exactly how talented he was. He had learned from years of experience; years you hadn’t yet lived. You would learn it all from him. Those little college boys he could smell on you every so often wouldn’t cut it anymore. He was meant for you, and you for him. He knew he already had you trapped, but playing with you was so fun. Poking and prodding and mocking you all while you worshiped him like he had hung the moon in the sky.

 “You love this body, don’t you, slut?” He pulled your hair suddenly, earning a yelp that went straight to his aching cock. “You know, I’ve only been keeping in shape for you. I knew from the moment you saw me that was the main appeal, and lord knows I’d go through hell to keep you around.” That was true. He knew others would settle for mediocrity, but a flawless little angel like you deserved better than mediocre. You needed someone to match your talent, beauty, and wit. He didn’t believe he equaled you in anything but maybe wits, but still, he was good for you. At least, you seemed to think so, considering you were giving tiny kitten licks to the tip of his recently freed dick. The tip was red, swollen, and leaking a sinful amount of precum. You sucked it all up, taking the engorged head between your plush lips. You felt like heaven, but the ache in your pussy felt like hell. You slowly began to go the full length down his cock. Zeke was right: you had messed around with college boys before, but none were as big as him. Your gag reflex wasn’t prepared, causing you to choke and sputter on it. Zeke grinned slyly.

 “Say my name, sweetie.” He wanted to treat you right, but it was so enjoyable to indulge his sadistic side.

 “Mr. Yeager.” You choked out. You knew how much he enjoyed that title; the feeling of authority it brought him made him hard as a rock every time. He groaned in pleasure, sending shivers down your spine. That knocked him off his rhythm for a moment, but he was right back on you the minute he regained some sense of self.

 “The kids are right upstairs, peacefully sleeping, while you choke on my dick like a dumb little slut.” The thought made you feel so dirty. You shifted on the ground, squeezing your thighs together and trying to get some friction. “And you do it so well, baby. I couldn’t ask for better.” He sighed.

 “That’s it, pretty girl, don’t hurt yourself down there.” He slowly pulled you off his cock by your hair. He didn’t want to admit it, and really didn’t show any signs, but you had him on the verge of cumming down your throat. But he didn’t want his precious seed there. Hell no! He wanted you stuffed to the brim and properly bred.

 “I’ve wanted you for so goddamn long, you don’t even know.” The look on tour face was something beyond pleasure or pain. It was a mix of both with a side of...fear? “What, scared of taking something this big, doll?” You shook your head.

 “Don’t worry, daddy’ll get you nice and wet for him.” He slowly came to hover over you, lifting you up and sitting you down on the couch. He spread your legs, undoing the button of your shorts with his long, thick fingers, bringing his mouth to your zipper and pulling it down with his teeth. He pulled them down your legs, bringing his face to your core. You felt hot on his mouth and nose. He licked a wet stripe up your clothed core,

 “God, you taste like honey, sweetie. I’m so fuckin’ lucky.” He pulled your panties to the side, relishing in the sight of your puffy pussy. You were beautiful in the murky yellow light of the room. You folds shimmered with slick and he could see your cunt clench around nothing, so obviously desperate for his dick. That’s right, his dick. Only his. From now on.

 He dove into you, savoring your tangy flavor. Pussy was a taste all its own, each having new, intense, rich tastes he could barely describe. To be perfectly honest, Zeke was a sucker for a wet little cunt in his mouth, and you were the perfect subject. Every suck to your clit, every kiss and lick to your folds, every darting flick of his tongue into your aching little hole; it had you moaning and whimpering like a ditzy little slut. Your mind was hazy with ecstasy.

 “Don’t get too loud now, dollface. Don’t wanna wake the kids now, do you?” His words brought you back to Earth, forcing you to remember you were being eaten out by a father of two. It felt so filthy to know you had been bringing up his kids, acting as a faux wife, and now you were being treated like one, eaten out of your mind and promised a thorough breeding.

 “Not that I don’t believe you would get off on being watched. I bet you love that idea, huh?” You jolted at the words and the sensation of another kiss to your cunt. “It might sound a little sick, but I could invite my brother over, see if he has as good a taste as mine.” He’d be willing to invite Eren over for a test run of…you? You knew they didn’t get along, so it was surprising, but that only turned you on even more. Imaging them fighting over you like hungry wolves on the hunt. They’d ravish you without even thinking. If this was Zeke, held back, on his own, you could only yelp and whimper at what kind of monsters the two of them would be together.

 “Nah, that little shit doesn’t deserve you.” He smirked into your sopping wet core. Eren never appreciated the finer things in life, still to young to understand the joys of pussy eating. No, he was more for the fuck and chuck kind of lifestyle. You deserved better aftercare than a point towards the door. “Some of the guys at my firm, however. Bet they’d turn you out real nice. They’re all just about as big and pent up as me. We could all show you a real good time." That would be about…three, four, even five of him? All fucking you at once with the same vigor and deep seated intensity. You head buzzed at the thought. "You’d like that, wouldn’t you, whore?” You couldn’t keep up with him in this state. You were completely fucked out without even being fucked at all. Before you knew it, you were cumming all over his gorgeous face and beard. He was taken slightly aback, but he licked it all up in five seconds flat. He was a professional.

 “Answer me, doll.” He delivered a harsh slap to your thigh. He enjoyed the ripple it gave and the red mark his hand had left.

 “Yes, Mr. Yeager.” You stuttered out, barely above a whisper. Torturing you would be fun, but not tonight. No, he needed to be thorough with your pleasure and ensure you would never leave his side again. He gave a few light slaps to your slippery pussy, making your thighs shake and mouth move without making a sound.

 “That’s what I fuckin’ thought.” He slowly stood up, giving you a perfect view of the shining god before you. His body was something sculpted by the old masters; a true work of art. Before you could fully appreciate the image of perfection in front of you, he bent down just a bit, pushing your thigs back as far as they could go, squishing your tits under them. He enjoyed the way your pudgier parts stuck out, giving him more parts of you to pinch and suck on as he fucked into you. His was no doubt the biggest cock you’d ever taken, and it wasn’t easy to have inside of you at first. Your walls clamped down on him so tight it was almost painful. But as he slowly pushed in and out, pleasure began to overtake the pain and you started to loosen up just a bit.

 “Just relax, sweetie. Daddy’s got you.” Of course he had a daddy kink. It made perfect sense, as did yours. Hearing him say that in that truly comforting tone made your head spin with pleasure.

"God, you are so fucking tight." He continued to fuck into you at a savage pace, not seeming to care if you screamed or cry, rather relishing in the fact that you were. You were so young and tight and sensitive, it drove him mad. He was sure he could never go a day without your pussy again.

"You fit me like a vice, sweetheart. You trying to milk me dry? Huh?" Your mouth was hanging open, drool spilling out. It gave him ample opportunity to spit in your mouth once again.

"Swallow it you filthy slut." He lightly tapped your face.

"This is exactly how I wanted you." You could barely hear him, blanking out at the intensity of his continuous pounding of your poor little cunt. "Been thinking about this for months."

"Might just knock you up, sweetie. You already take care of my brats so well, what's one more?" You squealed at the thought. He wanted you to have his babies. He wanted you to be his new, permanent play thing to fuck and fill up every night.

"Yeah. I wan' your babies." You slurred your words, inebriated by the feeling of his cock filling your tight little cunt. He gazed down at your fucked out form, finding a sick sense of pleasure in how far gone you were all thanks to him. You moaned far too loud for someone in a house full of kids. You couldn't hold back, he just felt too damn good.

"You gonna cum, little girl?" He had almost a mocking tone when he asked that. You nodded your head, squeezing your eyes shut. He kept up the pace, abusing your g-spot, not letting up for even a second. He set out to make you feel incredible; like the perfect little plaything he knew you to be, and he wasn’t going to let his slightly aged stamina get in the way.

"That's it, you look so pretty, baby. What a good little slut." He looked down at you with heated intensity. "My little slut." He continued his brutal pace almost as if you had never cum at all.

"Oh, 'd you think I'd quit just 'cause you finished? No fuckin' way." You squealed as he continued to thrust inside you, still drunk on the idea of being full of his cum. You wanted him more than you had wanted anything in your life.

"'M gonna make you squirt all over me. Ruin this nice, expensive couch." You were screaming his name at that point, unable to form a thought that wasn't Zeke and his perfect dick.

"Such a fuckin' cocktease all these months. This is what you get for it. Tummy full of my cum." He slowed his pace as he looked into your eyes with the intensity of a man drunk on desire.

"All those times you flipped your skirt up so I could see your cute little panties." He thrusted into you harder than he had before. "All those times you called me Mr. Yeager in that innocent tone that drove me up the wall." He thrusted harder than you had ever thought possible. You felt him hit your cervix. "Every time you acted like you didn't know what you were doing. Like you didn't know what I wanted." He continued to pound into you. You felt so full, so good.

"You're getting tighter, baby. You gonna squirt while daddy fills you up, huh?" His pace was brutal and you were seeing stars.

"That's it, pretty baby, cum all over me. Let me fill you up." He humped into you a few final times before shooting his load into your cunt. You screamed at the feeling of your cum squirting out of you as his cum squirted into you. You were so dizzy and so full. You were happy. You were safe and taken care of and filled to the brim by the man you loved most.

 “Hey.” You saw Zeke’s stunningly handsome face look down at you. His cheeks were flushed, forehead sweaty, sculpted chest heaving. But his eyes were transfixed on you with a look so filled with love and passion it made you feel like you were floating. “How you holding up, princess?” That was a new name…not that you minded. “Didn’t go too rough did I?” He panted in between his gentle words, the main drawback of giving it your all.

 “Actually.” You huffed a bit, just then realizing how difficult it was to talk, or move, or breathe. “Think you coulda’ gone harder.” He chuckled, the same look of complete infatuation lingering in his oceanic eyes.

 “Yeah?”

 “Yeah.”

 “You sure?”

 “I’m tougher than you’d think, old man.” He laughed at you, appreciating how you could still be the sweetest little thing he’d ever met after being pounded half to death.

 “Alright, I’m not even thirty, you little minx.”

 “Calling me a minx isn’t helping your case, Zeke.” His eyes lit up with recognition.

 “First time you’ve called me that, angel.” He smiled like an idiot in love, because he was one.

 “Maybe it’ll be the last, if you keep acting like such an animal around me.” You slapped his shoulder with as much strength as you could muster, which was basically none.

 “Well, if you don’t like the rough treatment, how about I treat you like the perfect angel you are? Treat you to a nice, warm shower and a cuddle session with yours truly. How about that?” He gently rubbed your cheek, taking in how wonderful your afterglow was.

 ���Sounds nice.”

 “Alright, let’s go, angel.”

 “Okay, Mr. Yeager.” You giggled at how quickly his face darkened and lips tightened into a frown.

 “Ever the tease, you are.” He carried you to his shower bridal style, no doubt a sign of things to come.

#aot smut #snk smut #zeke yeager smut #zeke jeager smut #zeke yeager x reader #zeke jeager x reader

[seiyasabi]

Beta

(This is a Yandere Alpha N’Doul x Beta Female Reader! I hope you guys enjoy this :))

TW: !Noncon/Dubcon!, no stand au, sexual harassment (from the big man himself, Dio),  mentions of disability(blindness)!, mentions of organised crime!, mentions of violence!, !knotting!, breeding kink!, you have no rights even as a Beta :((, !Alpha kink, !slight scent kink, !slight body horror at the end but nothing explicit!, etc..) 

When you accepted the role as a caregiver, you assumed that the man you were going to watch after was normal. After all, the man was rumoured to have a trust fund, and you assumed that he was rich from old money. 

How wrong you had been. 

How would you have known that the man you’re helping is in one of the most feared mafia’s in the world? 

You’d found this out by accident. He’d asked you to bring an expensive wine for him and a ‘friend,’ but when you walked in, you saw his ‘friend’ sprawled out on the floor, dead. That’s when he used his ‘Alpha Voice’ on you for the first time. He demanded you move into his estate, because he couldn’t risk you being a snitch. 

The ultimatum was to move in, or die, and by God, you weren’t going to die. 

-

“If you weren’t a Beta, I’d have stolen you away a long time ago,” Your hands shake slightly when you pour an expensive scotch into the blond Alpha’s cup. You’d always been sensitive to an Alpha’s scent or words, and this man’s smell is overwhelming. 

“Thank you, Mister Brando, but I’m sure my boss wouldn’t like that,” You chuckle nervously, as you swiftly move away from his large form. Taking a small glance towards N’Doul, you see an impassive look on his well-sculpted face. He’s used to his boss’ crude words towards you, but the annoyed pheromone in his scent is very apparent. 

“Of course he wouldn’t, you’re one of the few useful servants here,” He swishes the amber liquid around in his cup, the ice clinking against the glass making you flinch, “But, I have a proposition for you that I know you can’t refuse; you smell very… enchanting for a mere Beta. This is a known fact. The only differences between you and an Omega is that you’re level-headed and less annoying. That means that you’ll make a very good mate for one of my most trusted men,” By this time, you’d made your way to your boss, and were in the middle of pouring him a glass of a strong smelling bourbon. The blond Alpha’s words make your blood run cold, and you quickly stop pouring N’Doul his drink in fear of your shaking causing a spill. Dio’s golden eyes flash in amusement, “Why do you seem so surprised, Beta? You’ve been faithful to us for quite some time now, and I believe you deserve some comfort. If you marry him, you’ll live a lavish life. The only thing you must do for us, besides giving us unwavering loyalty, is bear him many children. The mafia needs a future generation, after all.” 

You gasp in disbelief, your free hand covering your gawking mouth. He can’t be serious. You weren’t born into a mafia family, you weren’t rich, you aren’t good on the field, etc., why would he want you to marry one of his high ranking men? 

“I, uhm, I’m flattered that you’d offer me such an amazing, uhm, opportunity, but I don’t think I can up and leave my boss. I’ve helped him for about two years, so it might not be very good for him-” N’Doul suddenly grabs your right wrist, scaring you half to death. You almost drop the bourbon bottle in your left hand, but luckily regain your hold on it. 

“She’s right, Master Dio, I still need her assistance in my manor. She helps me write my paperwork, reads off important messages, and assists with many other equally as important tasks. It would be quite hard for me to find someone who is as trusted and reliable as she is,” He slowly releases his hold on you, gently squeezing your right hand’s fingers. You shift uncomfortably on your feet, Dio looks positively pleased with himself, while your boss looks in his general direction with an unamused expression. 

“Are you both sure that you want to miss out on this opportunity? I didn’t even say the Alpha’s name yet,” The both of you vehemently nod, you because you don’t want to marry some rando to become a baby factory, and your boss because he can’t bear the thought of you being mated to someone else. “I see, what a shame. I was actually going to offer her to you, N’Doul, but I guess she can continue to be your servant if you want,” The dark haired Alpha’s scent turns sour, making you gulp in both fear and confusion. 

“Master Dio, what are you implying?” 

“You want to marry her, don't you? Your sweet Beta always takes care of you, she’s willing to do anything to make you comfortable,” Oh God, Dio thinks you’re in love with your boss, “And don’t think I haven’t noticed the change of your scent when she walks into the room, or how you treat her so kindly. The N’Doul I know wouldn’t have hesitated to kill someone if they found out his secret, yet you spared her without a second thought. It seems that the both of you have found your match,” He throws his drink back, finishing it with a single swig, “But, if you still don’t wish to marry, I understand-”

“Please don’t play with my feelings,” Your boss stands to his feet, his scent now overwhelmingly angry, “Of course I’d want to marry her, is that really a question you must ask?” Dio smirks at his uncharacteristic anger. 

“Oh, is that so? Then I suppose I will allow it,” He stands to his feet as well, easily towering over the both of you, “Now that that’s settled-”

“Wait! I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but don’t I get a say in this?” N’Doul, who is closest to you, tries to reach out for you again, but you easily dodge his hand, “I’m sorry Master N’Doul, but I don’t want to marry you. I also don’t want any children, and I don’t want any direct involvement with the mafia. I’m fine helping you out around the house and doing my job, but I don’t want anything besides a professional relationship,” It’s quiet for a long moment, a look of hurt flashing over your boss’ face, along with an upset smell permeating the room, before Dio begins to laugh. 

“Oh my, it’s so adorable that you think you have a choice. Did you forget that even though you’re not an Omega, the law still views you as lesser to an Alpha? For once, we’d be following the law in making you submit to your Alpha,” The blond rounds the left side of the table, heading straight towards you. In a panic, you try to move to your right to round the table and run for the door, but you run into your boss. 

Instead of being thrown off kilter like usual, he stands firm. His arms wrap around your middle, forcing you up against him. You think that he’s surprisingly well built for a man who needs your help 24/7, and that’s when you realise that you’re just a cover. The police know that you work for him, and whenever they’ve questioned you, you’ve always said the same thing; he has no sense of balance, he needs your help to get around the house, etc.. But, looking at the situation at hand, it’s clear that he’s never needed you for anything besides his mafia paperwork. 

“I think she’s figured it out N’Doul,” The scary Alpha is now before you, staring down at you with a shit-eating grin, “Though, that doesn’t matter. What matters now is that you listen to me well,” Oh no, “You’re going to marry him, whether you want to or not. You will give him as many pups as he wants, or else you’ll be punished. If you try to escape, you will be punished. Do you understand me?” He’s used his Alpha voice on you. Normally this wouldn’t phase a Beta, but you were no normal Beta. 

Against your better judgement, you nod, saying a very forced, “Yes, Alpha,”

“Good. His rut will begin in a few days. When that happens, you will service him as an Omega would. I will give you some heat inducing pills, and you will take them the moment his rut begins,” You stare at the ground with a frown, and nod. 

“Okay… but how will they work? I’m not an Omega-” N’Doul’s hold tightens around your ribs exponentially, making you wheeze. 

“Don’t act too rash,” He scolds the dark haired Alpha, “That’s an excellent question, Beta,” You flinch at his words, and freeze in fear when he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him, “There are many drugs on the market that can trigger a reaction from your kind. Many Alphas find it fun to break a Beta down into a gushing, cock or pussy hungry whore. You, my dear, are going to be my dear friends’ mate, which means you need to be ready for a long and hard week. If you aren’t you’ll surely die of exhaustion,” N’Doul growls at that, causing Dio to shush him softly, “So, to stop that, you’re going to go into heat as well. It’s as simple as that.”

His words are calming ones, trying to lull you into a false sense of security. But, you know better. You know that both men can kill you easily, you know that your boss could give you up, ending with you becoming a sex slave. So, to save your own skin, you give in. 

“Okay. I understand.”

-

The next few days are a whirlwind of emotion. Because his cover has now been blown, N’Doul refuses your help with any task besides paperwork. Turns out, he’s very high functioning, and he is able to count his steps to-and-fro, and is also able to do things like cooking without your help. 

Ever since that day with Dio, he’s been trying to make it up to you. He’ll make you your favourite food, dress you in pretty dresses, help you shower, etc..  It’s honestly suffocating, but whenever you try to distance yourself, one of his few servants will detain you, only to return you back to the patient Alpha. 

The day before his scheduled rut, one of the female servants took it upon herself to wax your entire body. Unfortunately for you, she’s a very old fashioned Alpha, and she had no qualms in using her Alpha voice against you. So, she sat you down on the edge of a large jacuzzi like bath tub, and went to town. When your soon to be mate called for you, it’d taken all of your power to walk down the stairs without falling flat on your face. He’d known something was wrong, because your smell wasn’t as lovely as usual, and the way you walked sounded completely different than normal. You didn’t bother lying to him, and to say he was pissed was an understatement. 

A low growl draws you from your thoughts, along with the heavy smell of arousal trailing from N’Doul’s quarters. Sighing in dread, you head towards your dresser, grabbing the pills Dio gave you from a small unused jewelry box. Chucking them into your mouth, you unscrew the cap of your water bottle and take a large swig, swallowing down the aphrodisiac you are forced to take. 

Shuffling towards your door, you hear the male’s groaning grow loader. Is he outside your door? Grabbing the cool doorknob, you practically throw the door open, expecting to see him kneeling outside. When the hallway is exposed, there’s no one there. Sticking your head outside, you check to see if he was farther down the hall. Nope. It’s empty. 

You see his room a few doors down, and realise he’s just that noisy. 

Straightening your posture and taking a deep breath, you trudge towards his abode. Knocking lightly on the door, you call out to him, “A-are you okay in there?” All noises cease, leaving you in suspense. Putting your ear against the door, you try to listen in to see if he dropped dead or if he was walking towards the door. You hear nothing, and prepare to pull away, only for the door to open, making you fall forward. Two warm arms catch you with a quickness, before you’re dragged into the dark room, and tossed onto a very comfortable bed. 

You bounce once you hit the mattress, only to be pinned down in an instant. He noses your throat, ghosting over your scent glands. His tongue laps at your neck greedily, trying to taste your skin on his tongue. N’Doul’s large, Rough hands grope at the fat of your hips, trailing up to your breasts. He seems to be trying to get a reaction out of you, but all you do is cringe. 

The pills haven’t fully kicked in yet, so you’re very uncomfortable under the rough treatment the Alpha is giving you. Noticing this, he growls in annoyance, “Don’t act shy, Darling. I’ll make you feel good if you make me feel good,” Did he truly mistake your discomfort for timidity? 

“I, uhm,” He silences you with a heated kiss, both of your spit mixing together, much to your disgust. His fingers pull and prod at your blouse covered nipples, twisting slightly to elicit a reaction. A gasp leaves your lips, as you try to remove his hands. The medicine was slowly, but surely starting to work, making your breasts more sensitive than usual. 

He grips the material of your shirt with two fingers, a small snarl coming from his lips, “I want this off. If you want to keep it, you better strip fast,” You practically throw your shirt over your head, moving as fast as you can. Your best friend had given you his shirt years ago, and you’ve used it as a sleep shirt ever since. 

A small smile decorates his harsh features, as he is finally able to feel your skin against his. He squeezes your breasts, loving the feeling of your fat between your fingers. You try not to look, hoping to zone out the entire session, but the rapid heat appearing in your tummy is making it very hard to do so. 

“I can’t wait until these are filled with milk, your Alpha might have to have a taste for himself,” A gasp leaves your lips at his erotic words, especially when his lips connect with your right nipple. He suckles on it like a child, whilst toying with the hem of your panties. With one swift movement, he shucks them down your legs without separating from your chest. 

A loud moan escapes your throat, as he starts to toy with your puffy pussy. The waxing from the night before makes you more sensitive than normal, eliciting all the right reactions. He removes himself from your chest, bringing your panties to his nose, breathing in your slick. 

“Such a yummy and cute little Beta, no wonder everyone everyone confuses you for an Omega,” He licks the seat of your panties, practically cumming in his drawers at your taste, “Fuck, you even taste fertile. Does your little womb want my cum, Darling? Want me to pump a cute baby into you?” His words send another wave of heat to your core, causing your slit to gush out your arousal. 

“Yes, yes please! Please fill me up!” He smirks at your neediness, and he shoves your legs apart. The smell of your arousal permeates the room, causing the large man to choke on his own spit. 

“Oh my, your pussy smells so good,” N’Doul practically dives between your legs, sniffing at your dripping pussy. Your hands reach down and grip at his black locks, practically begging him to eat you out. 

“Please lick my pussy! I was to take your knot,” He starts to kitten lick at your clit, causing tour hips to buck into his face, smearing your arousal over his chin and nose. He moans, loving the thought of everyone knowing that he belongs to you. 

“Such a Good Girl, in no Time, we’ll have a cute pup running around. Then I’ll fuck another one into you, giving them a sibling to hang out with,” You keen at his words, especially when he inserts two fingers into you at once. He scissors them at a fast pace, sucking on your clit harshly. Your cunt gushes in your first orgasm, making your back arch and a scream leave your lips, “What a good Darling, loosen up so I can fuck you full.” 

He adds two more into your cunt, your pussy sucking his fingers with an iron grip. His hips rut into the mattress below, as he brings you to a second release. 

“I’m gonna stuff you full, keep you locked on my knot. My Darling Beta, my cute cumslut,” he withdraws his hand from your heat, making you whine. But, he’s quick to shut you up with another heated kiss. Pushing your knees back, he puts you into a mating press. With one hand he keeps you in that position, and the other pushes his drawers off of his hips, kicking them off onto the floor. 

Lining his tip to your slick hole, he dips it in, testing the waters. When he feels your ring of muscle practically pulling you in, he can’t help but slam his entire length into you, causing you to scream out in both pleasure and pain. His tip rams into your cervix harshly, trying to access your deepest point. 

He doesn’t give you time to adjust, and starts to roughly fuck into you. His heavy balls slap against your ass in a rhythmic fashion, whilst he forced your knees by your head. 

“Fuck, your sloppy cunt is taking me so well. I love the way you gush around my cock,” You can’t say anything, too overwhelmed with pleasure. Your mouth falls open, eyes rolling back into your head. Pathetic moans rattle your chest, as he smashes himself as close as he can to you, “Don’t worry, Beta, your Alpha will fill you up nicely. I’ll make you round with my baby, I’ll give you pretty milky tits, and I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life!” 

He picks up his pace, trying to draw out more noises and slick to help him force his way in. His knot is quickly forming at the base of his cock, and it pulls almost painfully at the opening of your slit. 

“A-Alpha, I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum!” He smiles at your admission, starting to force his knot inside. 

“Good Beta, cum around your Alpha’s knot,” N’Doul forces his entire weight onto you, bucking his hips even harsher than before. 

His knot catches on your opening one more time, before breaching your drooling cunt. He ruts into you for a few moments longer, before his knot hardens fully, breaching the opening of your womb, locking himself inside of you. 

The feeling of him knotting you causes you to squirt, your release just barely slipping past your stuffed opening, painting his abs with your cum. He forces his mouth onto yours, as his seed pumps into you in thick spurts. He fills you up so much, that you feel bloated, your tummy poking out a little bit more than normal. N’Doul Real esse your legs, letting you settle into a comfortable position, his warm hand lays on your stuffed womb. 

“My beautiful mate, I’m so happy you accepted me. We’ll have the best pups, I’ll make sure none of you want for anything. Fuck, why’re you squeezing me so harshly?” 

You whine in both pain and pleasure, laying your forearm across your eyes, “I think I need to go to the hospital. Betas aren't meant to take knots, and you’re currently deep in my womb,” He scrambles to pull himself out, only to yank on your womb harshly, making a small scream of pain escape your lips, and tears dot your eyes, “No! No! Not right now, oh god, that hurts so bad!” 

His moment of post nut clarity, brings him to kiss your face with multiple tender kisses. 

“It’s okay, Darling, we’ll patch you up soon. Maybe Dio will have a drug to make this less painful for you.” 

You stare up at the ceiling with dread, the pills he gave you makes you feel good, yes, but the pain of no longer having freedom and a knotted cock in your womb is enough to make you sick. 

Hopefully your kid will be cute. Because, if not, you don’t know what you’ll do. 

#yandere n'doul #yandere n'doul x reader #n'doul x reader #yandere jjba #yandere jjba x reader #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere omegaverse #omegaverse #jjba omegaverse

[out-there-so-it-isnt-just-me]

Hey guys...I have an idea if you aren't sad enough yet. I was struck by a painful comparison sort of crossover idea. It would never be canon, but  I'm mourning the end of Campaign Two, and I want to be sad and over-dramatic. Essek, but as Eliza from Hamilton in “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story.” But, it’s for the entire Mighty Nien. Some of the lyrics are so on point for a poor Essek who will probably outlive all of his friends (Elves still generally live longer than Firbolgs by a good 200 years). Anyway, enjoy.

MN

Every other founding father's story gets told

It occurs to Essek, during one of the many periods without one of the Mighty Nein (the time that he dwells on them the most), how unfair their whole situation is. They saved all of Exandria, and no one knows. They are amazing, and odd, and frustrating, and no one knows. They will die loved deeply, but not widely. He knows they prefer it that way, all things considered. But, everyone else who saves all of Exandria becomes legends, while the people he loves best will be forgotten, remembered only by him.

And that. That sounds unbearable. 

So, in-between the times he sees the Mighty Nein, he begins to gather accounts. He writes down stories from those they helped, or simply left an impression on.  The people who have met the Mighty Nein have an air about them that he gets good at detecting. They attracted the oddballs and the outcasts. And if they're entirely normal (whatever that means), then they usually get a certain twitch if you ask for stories about interesting strangers. About half the time, a certain blue tiefling pops up in them. He almost has a heart attack when he hears  “go fuck yourself,” in Jester’s cheerful voice, when he knows Jester isn’t anywhere near there. He ends up getting the kenku’s story, and the voices of his friends are weaved into it. Essek thinks the Mighty Nein are the best people in the world, in their own rambunctious way. Part of him wants the world to love them as he does, or at least have the option to. Everyone should have a chance to get to know them, even if it's just through tales. The world would be a better place for it.

...And when you're gone, who remembers your name?

Who keeps your flame? 

Who tells your story?

Who tells your story?

Who tells your story?

Once there is only him and Caduceus left, this becomes a more prominent part of how he spends his time. After...after a long, long period of mourning. He has so much life left to live without most of the people who made it worth living.

I put myself back in the narrative

I stop wasting time on tears

I live another 50(0) years

He stops hiding his past and bears his sins and his story to the world. Essek tells his story so their story can be appreciated to the fullest; his part in their story emphasizes the depth of their compassion and chaos. He tells his story, but not as himself. Essek continues to drift from town to town under a vast number of aliases. Everywhere he goes, he spreads his stories of his friends, some serious, most silly. He disguises himself so he can stay alive to do a little more good, tell a few more stories, to truly live the life his friends wanted for him.

...I try to make sense of your thousands of pages of writings

You really do write like you're running out of time.

Eventually, he gets his hands on some of Beau’s journals, Jester’s diaries, and Caleb’s research. Well, he always had the research, but he gets to the point where he can share it with the world. He slowly begins to share and explain their thoughts and personalities with excerpts from those. Maybe he also has letters that he shares parts of (though most of those, those words specifically for him, he keeps to himself, for himself). He wonders if they'd be angry at him for spilling their private thoughts. But neither Beau nor Jester filtered their thoughts very much in the first place, and he keeps anything truly painful out of the public eye. Caleb, well, Caleb was always about sharing his knowledge and research, provided it wasn't dangerous. And they were all dead anyway.  One of the last things they told him was to be happy. And talking about his friends, learning more about his friends even after they were long dead, that made him the happiest he'd been in a while. So he hoped they wouldn’t begrudge him this small joy he’d managed to grasp and forgive him, should it be necessary.

I rely on Angelica

While she's alive, we tell your story

She is buried in Trinity Church near you

When I needed her most, she was right on time

Caduceus isn’t particularly interested in being well known or famous, but he never shies away from telling a story about any of his friends. Plus, he thinks it’s a good project for Essek. It's a way to continue to show his love for them and keep them alive in the only way they can be now. When Caduceus eventually passes away, he joins the eight other graves (Veth refused to be buried apart from Yeza) that lay in a tucked-away corner of the Blooming Grove. There is one space left, nestled between where Caleb and Jester lay, but it will be empty for a long time yet.

And I'm still not through

I ask myself, what would you do if you had more time...

...You could have done so much more if you only had time

And when my time is up, have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

He keeps adding to his tale; he stretches it longer and longer with every shred he can remember. But, even his memory, as long as it is, runs out eventually. And their story finally ends, but he doesn't. He throws himself into activities that remind him of them. He does a lot of gardening ( mostly tea, poisonous plants, and flowers). He teaches children some rudimentary dunamancy in his spare time, for Caleb. He messes around with alchemy a little. Eventually, he publishes the last of the research that he and Caleb worked on together; ones that took him decades to solve by himself. He even finds himself drawing a surprising amount of dicks on random surfaces near the very end.

Oh, can I show you what I'm proudest of?

...I help to raise hundreds of children

I get to see them growing up

The time that doesn’t go towards his now worrying amount of hobbies, he spends doing what he has done since the beginning: caring for the Mighty Nien’s true legacy. He looks after and visits their children. He takes care of descendants of Luc, of Jester and Fjord, of the random teenager that Beau and Yasha seemed to adopt completely on accident, of TJ, of the Clays, and of a lovechild of Kingsley’s that found out who his father was and then somehow found Essek himself to learn about him. In an embarrassing show of sentimentality, Essek always keeps at least one offspring of Caleb's very first cat. There is a very funny story about Caleb thinking the animal was spayed when it was, in fact, not. He visits the different generations every couple of years or so (he has a schedule). The drow makes sure they know the stories of their ancestors, the adventures of the Mighty Nien; he tells them it's all real. He gives them ways to contact him if they’re in danger, or need any kind of help really ( he has funds to spare at this point). Every once in a while, a few of them will get it in their heads to write him yearly updates. It’s nice.

In their eyes, I see you, Alexander

I see you every time

And when my time is up

Have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

It is strange and painful to see the attitude and mannerisms of the Nein in the descendants who have never met them. It is wonderful too. His stories of the Mighty Nein have become well-known tales that no one can decide how much is truth and how much is fiction (it’s true, it’s all somehow, hilariously true). He preserved them in his own way, in the right way (time travel is something he thinks of with a growing hunger the more years pass between when he last laid eyes on his friends). But in these men, these women, these children, they are truly alive.

One little half-orc girl has Jester’s mischievous eyes and infectious joy. Another halfling man squints just like Veth when she's trying to figure out if someone is bullshitting her. There’s a boy who charmingly bumbles his way through most social encounters, as Fjord did. A firbolg woman who has Caduceus gentle smile. A tiefling girl with all the audacious bravado of Kingsley. A man with eyes just as piercing as Beau’s, and a tongue just as sharp. Even Yasha’s kind and gentle demeanor somehow shines through in one small boy, despite her having no direct descendants. He gets to see these flashes of his friends in those who survive them, and it thrills him as much as it cuts him. (Sometimes, when the current cat has ruined some item of his, the pleased look it wears resembles the quiet glee Caleb exuded after he pulled a successful prank, but he’s pretty sure that’s just fanciful thinking.)

One of the last things Essek does before he dies is fully publish, in print, the entire tale of the Mighty Nein. How they came together, every person they helped along the way. The love, the loss, the kindness, the chaos, every moment he could recall or record was put into this one account (necessarily stretched out into several separate books). There is only one set, and he hands it over to the Library of the Cobalt Soul in Rexxentrum. Then he goes on his lonely way.

Oh, I can't wait to see you again

It's only a matter of time

There are now ten graves, each one as unique as its owner, nestled in a small corner of the Blooming Grove. One grave has the dirt still fresh around it. And somewhere, beyond the Divine Gate, there are cheers and laughs and cries of joy as the Mighty Nien become the Mighty Nine once more.

fin.

MN

It’s my head-canon that by the time Essek dies he’s practically a mythical figure among the select families he looks after. It's  to the point that in certain locations ( that have a lot of Nein remnants) he becomes a local legend, the guardian angel of nien (no spelling specified and with no real distinction of what that means), with skin like the night sky who drifts (literally) through towns and helps those who meet a certain requirement, unknown to the general populus. There are rumors that certain people have bestowed upon them a token they could use to call upon the angel’s aid. Of course, the people who have the tokens (sending stones or something similar. IDK how he would get that many wondrous items, but I focus on satisfying narrative not, like, plausibility) know Essek and know that he has died and that the tokens no longer work, but for a while they keep them as heirlooms, to show the love of one drow wizard for the friends he had long, long ago. Eventually, one of Veth’s descendants sells off their set because sending stones are worth A LOT, and the money seemed more practical. They have their stories; those are enough. 

And before anyone complains about the Kingsley bit, I felt compelled to add a smidgen of Kingsley content because Essek loves Jester and Jester’s with Fjord and Kingsley is with both of them for years. I’m sure they get to know each other well enough that seeing traits of Kingsley is vaguely nostalgic and warming, even if it lacks the depth and love he feels for everyone else. Also, there’s no convincing me that Molly/Kingsley doesn’t have at least one illegitimate child running around from various trysts, he was basically the Scanlan of this campaign. It goes with the hedonistic vibe he gives off.

Also, is it normal that I completely designed the Nein’s burial site in my head because I did? Like I imagine they’re all spaced out in a circle. It’s almost like a stone gazebo but there’s not really a roof; it’s just a group of nine pillars that support a stone circle. The entrance is the Traveler’s door with dicks around the edge, and each of the nine pillars/supports is designed to look the knowing mistresses staff. The stone circle is covered in carvings of storm clouds and lightning. Wires are strung across the center of the stone circle to form the symbol of the Cobalt Soul. Not that you can see the wires, because vines have been grown all around them. Once you step through the Traveler’s gate, you’ll find yourself on some kind of rough mosaic floor, with depictions of a peacock, a pyramid, a snake, a sun, a moon, and (oddly) a pirate ship. The mosaic is made up of buttons of various materials and shapes. In the center is a saltwater pool/spring (depending on how magical we can get idk) and floating above it is an eternal flame encased in some sort of dunamancy magic that doesn’t  actually exist that keeps it floating and eternal. Look I'm running out of ideas.

I can’t imagine what everyone’s grave marker would be, but I’m pretty sure Yasha’s is a simple stone that says "YASHA NYDOORIN: wife of Zuella and Beauregard Lionette," and the place where’s she’s buried is just covered in wildflowers that spread outside of the gazebo to encircle the structure entirely up to the gate. Also, everyone has a stone tarot card by their grave with the picture and designation that Molly gave them. Beyond that grows a weirdly dense thicket of trees and bushes that make finding the Nein's resting place rather hard. It’s said only the descendants of the Nein’s family or those favored by the Wildmother (or Traveler, Or Ioun, or Storm Lord) can find their way to them. And one tree, directly behind Yasha, is dead, struck by lightning who knows how long ago. 

And they’re buried in this order: Yeza/Veth, Caleb, Essek, Jester, Ford, Kingsley, Yasha, Beau, Cad. I know there’s a good chance that a) Kingsley would just eff off and die somewhere unknown and b) Cad would probably want to be buried with the rest of his family, but shhh let me dream.

#critical role #the mighty nein #essek thelyss #caduceus clay #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #Essek staring as Eliza #sad boi #who lives who dies who tells your story #as done by floaty hot boi #major character death mentioned #post campaign 2 #a mighty burial ground #did anyone of you want an in-depth imagined version of the M9's final resting place #because it's in the after notes #the story ends and then i found more story #but its less pretty #hamilton crossover #sort of #mostly the sentiment #idk #someone validate my effort please #or let me hug essek #or matthew mercer #he looked so sad #angst with a happy ending #the ending is death #but they're all dead #so it's nice

[pleasantwizardphilosopher]

Just you and me

So, I finally gathered the courage to write something and went for a SuperCorp fanfic, because clearly I am supercorp trash. I haven’t decided whether to post it in AO3 or not but if I do I’ll let you know. English is not my first language so if you get any mistakes or some parts lack cohesion please let me know and I’ll try to fix it. This fic goes by the idea that Kara is a very good scientist, she deserves that much, Lena’s background is canon-like. There are no dialogs, only feelings and senses, hope you like it.

*********

Finding yourself stuck in time is hard, at least that’s what most people would feel like under such circumstances, but not for Lena, not right now, where every single piece of “normalcy” her life had is just beginning to crumble, like a piece of sun-dried bread, or the way eggshells crack after someone steps on them, painfully, noisily, in a million pieces, most of all and beyond everything, they shatter unrecognizably and irreparably. Maybe the cold that such pain leaves behind is what led her to run, maybe it was the sudden fear and tiredness that was left in her, like cold steel in her bones, maybe it was the emptiness that started consuming every truth she thought she knew. It did not matter, she fled, running as fast as she could in those 7-inch Louboutins. She never looked back, not even after her flight landed in National City, not even after setting foot for the first time in her new penthouse in the middle of the city. She never regretted it, at first it was rough, sure, like every bumpy road is, yet, after the first glance she ever took at that blonde hair that day in the park, all doubts were erased off her mind.

*********

It was the end of August, the chilly air that announced a cold winter ahead blew her hair, ruffling it in her face; filling the streets, waking scattered orange and brown-ish leaves that had fallen from nearby trees, whistling on its way through the now almost-bare branches. The wind left behind the soft aroma of wet dirt, freshly baked bread and upcoming rain, heartwarmingly, filling her lungs easily with every breath, puffing visible clouds when exhaling. It was certainly nostalgic, the kind that makes you feel warm and cozy and at the same time makes your eyes prickle with unshed tears. Kara felt that pull, as usual, for everything good her life has had, and everything it had taken from her. She stood on the sidewalk, towards National’s City Central Park, glancing around her, taking in her surroundings when her gaze landed on a particular someone, dragged to her as if her eyes were mere pieces of steel and that woman were a huge neodymium magnet; She found herself staring at a sight she’ll always remember, because at that moment, when she first saw her, she felt a different kind of pull at her heart, the kind that screamed “caution!”, but in the good way, hopefully.

Long before she knew her name, what made her laugh, what made fer fidget with her fingers nervously, but above all, long before she had met that woman with dark long silky hair, forest-green eyes and pearly skin. Long before that gorgeous human being, with such power emanating from her, yet such caring, hopeful eyes, crossed her path, long before she made her feel like flying without actually leaving the ground, mostly, who she would grow to love, maybe, maybe she was fantasizing too much, who could blame her, it surely was a sight to remember.

*********

When the double doors slide open, she’s expecting a no-nonsense, powerful, cold-blooded, cocky-demeanor CEO, what she’s definitely not expecting is for such CEO to be almost precisely all that shaped and carefully placed in a stunning, raven-haired woman, whose green eyes could pierce through your soul and would probably make you spill your darkest and deepest secrets, those that also hide so much fear, making her want to walk over there and pour all her support into a hug. Kara swallows. Nevertheless, there is also something else to this woman’s aura, her posture is perfect, clearly carved into her from a very young age, and her smile is polite but stiff, almost practiced, and still, Kara can feel kindness emanating from her, true deep kindness and care. Something brings her to the present again, her breath hitches, those beautiful eyes are staring intently into hers with curiosity and a hint of amusement. The woman in front of her has managed to steal her breath twice now, which is not something she, the founder and co-owner of a start-up company. Harvard graduate and Kryptonian, finds happening often, she has faced great threats, from grumpy bankers to out-of-space threats as Supergirl, yet, Lena Luthor has managed to make her heartbeat go erratic with a simple gaze. 

The soft scent of an expensive perfume fills the office, something akin cinnamon, vanilla and a little scotch (?). It is dizzying and a little distracting. She somehow manages to go through her proposal for the CEO without stumbling too much and, fortunately, without rambling. Lena seems fascinated by the proposal and agrees to the terms without major modifications to the contract. After both signing, they shake hands, and maybe, just maybe, they linger a little more than needed, both enraptured by the softness of the other’s hand. Lena pulls away first, fingers tingling, feeling the tips of her fingers warm and a lingering scent of something floral, it is electrifying, like a low current cursing through her veins, making her get goosebumps all over her arms, but she doesn’t mind, as her attention is captured by those ocean blue eyes that seemingly hold the weight of the world. She certainly is nowhere close to getting tired of them.

*********

When they signed this partnership, they did not expect it to turn this way, at least Kara didn't, or so she muses while sitting on the ledge of her rooftop. She truly just meant to get funding and maybe get to work a little up-close with the brilliant, certified genius of a woman. Sure, she is gorgeous and incredibly sharp-minded, as proven by so many magazines’ articles having bothered to analyze both qualities deeply and thoroughly; but after that first sight of her, with such strength and determination to her pose, with each powerful step, with every sway of her hips, albeit hiding so much hurt, sadness, and a great burden, brought to her by her last name; a burden that Kara has somehow come know so well, such need to be understood, because, the truth was, that no one had ever lived through loss the way they did. One lost her world, her culture and way of life, but found love and compassion, whereas Lena was denied both from a very short age, living a life without love, compassion, and affection, in a household where the outside cold wouldn’t enter, as the inside was icier. 

The cold nighty wind startles her, it brings to her mind memories of bight smiles, so hard that certain dimples showed, laughs so hard that some wine would be spat on a very white leader couch, sunny days filled with an assortment of foods and a wonderful voice, filling every corner of the room with its melody and a slight accent, becoming more evident when emotion takes a rightful place in her voice, one that comes from a very pale yet very compassionate woman. She has to tell her, it's been just over a year since they first met, but she knows it is time, with them growing closer, she has to tell her she is Supergirl. And yeah, she definitely did NOT expect things to turn this way. (Maybe she kinda did).

**********

When she asked Kara if she understood the quantum mechanics behind the surface plasmon resonance their platinum nanoparticles showed, she wanted to be shaken, mad even, because why wouldn't she, the to-be youngest member of the Science Guild on Krypton? Of course, they didn't have the same metals as they did on Earth, but they understood the physics behind the phenomena. Okay, Lena did do not know her identity, yet, hopefully, but she did have a Bachelor in Mechatronic Engineering and a Master Degree in Advanced Materials, she definitely may have crossed paths with the concept. But hell, how can she be mad when those bright, summer-trees green eyes look at her with such glint of excitement, with a twinkling sparkle or curiosity? Those eyes that were looking at her with a look you give someone you know gets you, beyond understanding your words, those who truly get a grasp of your language, of who you are, what makes you shake with the excitement of a new discovery, a greater challenge. It was then that Kara knew that she could read Lena the way no one had ever done for her, she could grasp what she needed in every moment, what she was thinking, but she also got her sciency stuff, the theoretical jargon, upcoming theories, the physics behind phenomena and she shared her love for technology that could make humans' lives better, longer, healthier. They shared, compassion, vision, passion and... Kara was now almost certain, love.

At least she thinks so, what else could those stolen glances be? She looks up, just to find those forest-green eyes glinting with determination and concentration while those agile slender fingers handle tools and twinkle their way around the solar panel’s circuitry. She is so enraptured by her skills that she mistakenly adds way too much platinum sulfide to the solution, turning it suddenly black and bringing her out of her stupor as the contents boil, violently spilling all over the place, filling the air with a slight scent of iron, evaporated water and burnt plastic. Green eyes break contact with the panel to look towards where strong hands work frantically to turn off the hot plate she was working on, dropping her tools she reaches a hand to help Kara, concerned green eyes looking for any kind of burn injury or spill that may need to be taken care of. After making sure everything is (mostly) okay and that it was just a failed reaction, Kara is suddenly aware of a soft hand pulling her away from the table, vanilla and cinnamon fill the air around her, like a soft embrace, that turns real when Lena pulls her into her arms, a soft bubble surrounding Kara, making her a little giddy and peaceful at the same time. Flowers, fresh-cut flowers is what Lena smells, while she hugs Kara tightly, it is normal to get worried for your best friend after a lab incident, no matter how small, she tells herself, and while it maybe is, it is definitely not normal the way her heart felt like stopping the moment she saw the hot contents of the Erlenmeyer flask spill all over the place, fearing for Kara, feeling it creep up her spine and settle like cold ice on her stomach and lungs, making it hard to breathe.

When strong arms surround her and pull her in tighter, she realizes she has started shaking and hyperventilating, embarrassed she hides her face in the crook of Kara’s neck, and everything fades outside this moment. It is just them, vanilla, and flowers, Kara murmuring sweet nothings into Lena’s ear, hearing her heartbeat even out, and her breathing become normal; and Lena trusting that this person, whose arms seem to be able to lift a bus, whose laugh makes her heart warm and fuzzy, whose smile lights her world and makes her feel safe, cared for and understood; will never let her fall. And perhaps she is right.

**********

Yup, it is definitely love. What else could it be? That snowy January, between hot cocoa and soft muffins, she knew. She is hovering outside her lab, on the outskirts of town, where it was less likely that someone caught her both personas; peeking through the windows, she sees her, Lena is coding the interface that would allow them to take the most efficiency and durability out of the technology they had designed, the mechanical and chemical part was almost done already. She is typing, eyes narrowed in concentration behind thick rimmed glasses, the tip of her tongue poking from a corner of her mouth. And Kara knows, she wants to caress those hands when they were trembling from the winter cold, but also kiss them after a long day working with her computer, she wants to rub her feet after a day filled with meetings and kiss her every time her brilliant mind comes up with a solution for an impossible problem. But above all that, she wants to hold her and whisper into her ear comforting and loving words when she has a nightmare regarding Lex, she knows it’s a common occurrence. She wants to see her crumble knowing that Kara would always hold her and support her, kissing her lovingly every time her insecurities get the best of her. She wants her to feel safe, protected and loved in a way she always deserved but never got.

She sighs, this is it and she knows it, there is not moving forward without coming clean about Supergirl, because, staring at Lena, she knows there is no going back either, looking the way her agile fingers dance around the keyboard as if she were writing a letter to a friend instead of a state-of-the-art software to power and control their recently developed solar panels. She thinks of how beautiful of a soul Lena is, she has such a big heart, she has a huge weight on her shoulders for being a Luthor, a burden which Kara would love to lift from her since it is not hers to carry, it shouldn’t be. Furthermore, she cares so much for the world and the people in it, even for the ones that are not human, unlike her family she is truly kind and compassionate.

Here goes nothing. Kara flies through the lab floor-to-ceiling windows towards the desk where Lena is working, placing beside her the paper bag containing hot cocoa and muffins for her. Due to the cold, the soft warm homey smell soon starts filling the room. Lena looks up smiling, expecting to find Kara behind the treats, but instead, bright green eyes lock with glassy baby blue eyes, trembling lips and fingers fidgeting. Lena stands. She is instantly shaking, whatever it is that could possibly turn the unyielding hero into a crying mess must be of great concern. She steadies herself by grabbing the edge of the table to keep her knees from buckling, knuckles turn white. Green never leaves blue. And just when she is about to ask the hero what brings her here, a strong hand comes to the small of her back to steady her and keep her upright. She has never been this close to Supergirl and at that moment when every sound seems to shut and the air stills, she knows.

She knows why those sky-blue eyes always inspired her such calm and confidence, why she always felt safe in those arms that could bend steel as butter. Because in that moment, when the warmth emanating from that hand starts filtering through her clothes, warming her, her senses are also filled with a smell of flowers, mixed with chocolate and bread, and a hint of mint; when a single tear escapes those ocean blue eyes, she crumbles. She crumbles under that gaze filled with pain and sorrow, filled with such regret that she could feel it creeping through herself, nestling in every corner of her body, making her feel slump and heavy. She also sees intelligence, compassion and strength, qualities she has come to be very familiar with under a blue setting. And so, she grabs the hero’s suit in her fist and buries her face in her chest, a single heart-wreaking cry filling the air. Kara shatters then, knowing how much pain this is causing to a soul that has been betrayed over and over again, who has been abused and pushed to her limits. She knows she is picking an open wound with a stick, and she hates herself for it, for using the same trust Lena gave her against her. They slide to the floor, never letting go of each other, tears falling freely through both their cheeks. Lena breaks into heartbreaking sobs and Kara holds her tighter, as if trying to keep her from falling into pieces, from breaking apart, rocking them both back and forth softly. Lena just cries, screaming from time to time, gripping the fabric so tightly that if it were regular fabric, it would be tearing down by now, but it isn’t, just as the woman holding her, the woman she most certainly is NOT in love with, is not a regular human. They stay there, holding onto each other, never breaking eye contact, the hot cocoa and muffins long forgotten.

**********

She really isn’t mad. She isn’t. So maybe she has been slightly avoiding Kara, but she isn’t mad. Despite her first-instance outburst of emotions, she realized she really isn’t angry at Kara from keeping the Supergirl thing a secret from her, yes, she was deeply hurt and upset but she understands the reasoning behind it, albeit she wishes Kara had told her earlier in their relationship it also makes perfect sense for her to hide it until making sure their relationship was well-founded and strong.

She is quite lost though, there is a small hint of emptiness inside her chest from that day which smelled like chocolate and bread, at first Lena thought she might actually and finally be broken, her heart having taken so many hits already. But the pain eventually faded, and that emptiness never left, on the contrary, it became more present, so much that she was now almost used to it. Like a lingering rock in the bottom of her stomach, or a ball of cotton in her throat, constant, bearable but persistent. And now, as the snow starts melting outside her office she wonders why. She knows why though; she just likes to pretend like she can fool herself.

The morning sun is hitting her office’s windows, warmer than it has been for the past few months and as the first drops of melted snow start to fall from the rooftop to her balcony, the pretense falls to pieces, and she falls along with it. She fumbles with her balcony door and stumbles outside, not even bothering to grab her coat, as soon as she steps outside, she is hit with cold, humid air and slippery floors. Taking huge gasps of cold air to fill lungs that seemingly do not want to be filled.

Maybe this is all she needed, standing on her balcony and glancing at the city, the morning sun casting a bright yellow light over her face, warming her skin softly, while her side in the shadows gets colder every passing second. It is enough, hot and cold, day and night, light and darkness, she always wondered to which side of the scale she tipped the most, she used to believe she was all shadows, a Luthor, and Kara was light, all goodness, she smiles at the irony, a Super. However, while she is taking in the city, calm and almost quiet since it is so early, bright light hitting the buildings and cold, contrasting shadows hiding smaller streets, cars, and people, she gets it. Kara was never all light, and will never be, she has on her shoulders an unbearable pain that will never go away and with her powers come hard choices that no one should ever have to make. And she, she is not darkness, she is both, and she can choose which side to feed, and she wants to choose light, just not any light, one that is personified by blonde hair and ocean-deep blue eyes that she could, and does, get lost into. Maybe, she can bring a certain light to Kara as well, maybe they both deserve it, they deserve each other. Letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding she turned on her heels towards her office and out of it, directly to a certain warehouse on the outskirts of town. The balcony door left open, melted snow glowing gold from the morning sun, dripping into Lena’s office.

**********

Disappointment is that what she feels, no, sadness, for sure, she knew things could go sideways with the whole reveal show and yet, the clench in her heart won’t go away easily, and she knows she absolutely has no right to feel that way, she made that choice, just as she has made every other choice before it. She is tempering with her suit, waiting for her cell culture to finish growing so she can properly test their absorption properties. Soft pop music plays in the background, filling the warehouse with soft notes with a cheesy vibe, the mid-morning sun streams from the windows, lighting the space with an orange-ish golden glow. She finishes her upgrades with a tired huff, never one to hate working on something she surprises herself with such reaction. Groaning with frustration that has nothing to do with her projects and a lot to do with a certain pale powerful, wonderful, CEO.

She walks towards the windows, letting herself bask in the mid-morning light, feeling her powers recharge and her body start buzzing with energy. She clenches her fists, as the warmth caress of the sun on her skin makes her heart ache, missing another entirely different kind of warmth. She leans against a wall and lets her body slide to the ground, bringing her knees to her chest, she closes her eyes, letting herself get lost in the feeling of the sun kissing her skin, softly, almost hesitantly, she can almost picture a certain brunette, softly stroking her cheek, a sweet lovingly caress. A single tear rolls down her cheek from her closed eyes, knowing that such caresses may never be from her, a faith written by her own hand, resulting from her choices, as hard as it is. Letting her straining superhearing and expanding its reach she hears the hustle and bustle from downtown a few kilometers away, she hears the honks of the cars and the heavy panting from people running late for their work, such mundane thing that she may never truly get to live and experience. As her hearing expands, she finds herself focusing in a very well-known heartbeat, one she can distinguish above the sea of heartbeats that flood the city; it is beating absurdly fast, and her first reaction is to focus on her surroundings to find out whether she is in danger or not.

She hears heavy puffs of air, heels clicking steadily and determinately on the pavement, closer with every step, and is she running? Her breath hitches when realization dawns on her, she IS running, towards her. While her mind screams for her to move, to do something, her body is frozen, unresponsive, breath caught in her throat, she absolutely does not understand what is happening and doesn’t know what to expect from the woman that is now reaching her. Before she can dwell on it further, a feminine soft hand with slender cold fingers is touching her knee softly. She is panting from the effort, her breath smells like back coffee and mint, hitting Kara’s face warmly, making her head spin; a slight scent of grounded coffee beams mixed with Lena’s favorite scotch emanates from her clothes, she smells strangely like home; her red lipstick matching her flushed cheeks from running, and Kara cannot help but let her jaw fall open in awe at the sight.

She grabs Lena’s wrists softly and stands up bringing her along. Kara finally gathers her courage and looks at her eyes. She feels like sinking under her gaze, not out of fear, it’s nothing but love and warmth what she sees in those jade-green eyes, feelings she doesn’t feel worthy of, specially not when coming from the Irish goddess. Just when she’s about to close her eyes again, uncapable of keeping her gaze, Lena hooks a finger under her chin and makes her raise her eyes up to hers again. Insecure, scared-like blue puppy eyes find soft-looking bright emerald eyes. It’s understanding what she sees now in those deep green eyes, the same ones that seem capable of reading her like an open book. She lets out a sob, and Lena lets go of her chin, going to grab her hand, bringing it to her lips and kissing her palm tenderly.

The breeze brings to Kara’s nose the scent of Lena’s shampoo, smells like rainy days and autumn leaves, and, as usual, no words are needed when Kara moves her hand from Lena’s lips to cup her cheeks, bringing her other hand up. And, what else can she do other than lean forward? So, she does, she leans forward and kisses her forehead, its soft, tender, like a butterflies’ kiss, just barely brushing her skin, trying to convey her love for her beautiful Genius™ mind, for her brilliance, stubbornness and compassionate selfless soul. She then brushes her lips softly on both her eyelids, trying to convey all the love and regret she feels regarding the way she did Supergirl secret-related things. She parts slowly and watches as Lena opens her eyes fluttering open slowly, bringing her hands up to grab the wrists of the Kara’s hands that are still cupping her face, thumbs softly stroking the inside of the kryptonian’s wrists, she lets out a shaky breath, blue eyes looking at her so lovingly tenderly, with such determination and strength, unyielding as sapphires, she feels no questioning in her heart, this is where she is meant to be, she turns into a mushy puddle and lets herself be drawn into the Girl of Steel.

Kara leans forward and kisses her nose, giggling quietly, Lena simply melts into it feeling a soft warm breath that smells like chocolate and honey, suddenly, the emptiness in her chest melts like ice cream on a hot summer day, leaving nothing but love and warmth, like the one from a fireplace on Christmas Eve. She lets out a shuddering breath, relieved. They lock eyes again, and finally all those unspoken questions find an answer. They lean forward at the same time, their lips meeting in the middle, fitting perfectly against each other. It is warm, tender, loving, and everything it should be, the way every cheesy romantic comedy says it’s like. They pour all their love into that moment, lips moving against each other, chocolate-honey and black coffee.

When they finally part, it’s like breathing for the first time, lungs grasping for oxygen, freshly cut grass, concrete and sun-provided warmth, and it is perfect. Like taking a breath after holding it underwater for a long time, except you never truly knew what breathing was like, until that life-altering breath. They breathe in sync, foreheads touching, Kara’s hands go down to wrap around Lena’s waist, pulling her closer, Lena rests her head softly on Kara’s chest, nuzzling into her neck and closing her eyes, letting herself fall into that fierce love, like an all-consuming fire, she’s been too afraid to open herself to, to be vulnerable. They stay there, enjoying each other’s embrace, the hustle and bustle of the city blind to a beautifully blooming love.

**********

Kara is very clumsy, it does help her keep up her façade, albeit it is also a personal trait of hers. And right now, as she trips on nothing, while standing nonetheless, she makes it extremely evident. Forest green eyes look at her amused from the other side of the door. How does Lena expect Kara not to fall face first to the ground when she is dressed looking like THAT. Wearing a deep red drees that falls softly just below her knees, strapless, leaving her back and cleavage on display, her hair up in a neat bun and her signature 7-inch black heels, Kara definitely stopped breathing, not that she needs to anyway. She stands up awkwardly, taking the dust off her khaki pants and dark blue blazer. Lena cannot hide a smirk after pulling such reaction from no other than Supergirl.

The CEO pulls Kara into her apartment, it smells like vanilla and apples, probably resulting from the many scented candles that Lena likes to light around her apartment. The only light comes from said candles and several Christmas-like light strings that are hanging from the ceiling, giving the place a warm cozy glow. Kara smiles lazily as she leans down to kiss Lena, catching a glimpse of bright emerald eyes melting glimmery before falling shut. She smiles into the kiss. She pulls apart slightly and kisses the tip of Lena’s nose, the raven-haired woman lets out a soft chuckle. Kara grabs her hand, intertwining their fingers, and leads her to the door. Today it’s dinner date day, they are celebrating the successful launch of their joint solar panels project, the best performance ever achieved thanks to a certain Kryptonian’s platinum oxide nanoparticles; and 10 months of full-on dating. As Kara closes the door of Lena’s apartment behind them, the warm smell of the candles fills the hallway and follows them into the elevator, a fluffy plush blanket, a protective mantle surrounding them.

**********

drip…drip… the constant crash of raindrops against the windows surrounding them, rain pouring heavily around them, drowning the usually loud noises of the city’s rush hour, washing away the strong smell of smog. They are tucked under a bus station stop, at least Lena is, Kara is already dripping, since she stubbornly stood outside the small protection the roof offers so Lena and other humas could take cover, she doesn’t get sick anyway. Lena is shivering, although it has been a remarkably hot summer, today was quite a cloudy day and it rained for the most part, resulting in a temperature drop of several degrees. The brunette leans into Kara seeking for her abnormally high body temperature to warm herself up, but the Girl of Steel has other plans, since she cannot fly Lena to their apartment, she might as well take the best out of the situation.

Just as Lena is dropping her full body weight into her, she slides away, pulling Lena’s hand with her, directly into the downpour. Lena gasps when the first heavy drops of the cold water hit her, feeling her clothes get soaked almost instantly, she feels the raindrops roll down her skin and further dampening her clothes, the smell of the rain fully hits her now and when she lifts her eyes from where they were looking at the floor not to trip, she sees Kara smiling her signature megawatt smile at her, completely soaked and intertwining their fingers playfully, so Lena smiles, smiles so hard her dimples show. She lets herself be dragged by Kara, running under the rain, feeling the cold sweeping into her bones, and feeling more whole and filled with happiness than she has in a very long time, if ever.

Kara jumps over a puddle with all the grace of a gazelle, letting go of the CEO’s hand, such displays of her true nature still wonder Lena, just when she is about to make the jump herself, Kara stops and abruptly turns towards her. The world stops. Or maybe she is the one that freezes, the only thing she can hear is the rain pouring heavily around them, and her heart beating erratically in her chest, ringing in her ears, the smell of rain mixes with Kara’s floral perfume, she is getting closer now. The brunette starts shaking, and it has nothing to do with the cold water still running down her body. Kara stands in front of her, soaking wet, dirt all over her jeans from playing in the rain, her hair falls in wet dirty blonde strands around her face, her eyes as baby blue as always are dim because of the raindrops that coat her glasses, and in her soaking hands she’s holding an astonishingly made silver ring, two intertwined silver strings hold one small bright emerald in the middle, the inside of one of the string, in almost unreadably tiny letters reads “You are my hero”. The simplicity of the stone in contrast with the intricate design of the ring.

Lena forgets how to breathe, but Kara understands, so she just waits there, with the most loving smile ever seen stamped on her face. When Lena’s out of body experience ends, she simply nods enthusiastically. And so, the world starts spinning again, the honks of the cars return, engines roaring and muffled conversations, all muted by the rain, washing over them as reality sinks in, they are choosing each other, even when the world has tried to pull them apart repeatedly, furthermore, against each other, for them, none of it matters, just them, here and now, kissing for the first time in hopefully many years to come. Lena lets her hands drape loosely around Kara’s neck, feeling the grounding weight of the ring on her left ring finger, hot against her cold skin, the same way Kara’s hands, which hold her together.

#supergirl #supercorp #fanfic #karlena #kryptonian #i wrote this on a whim #please give me feedback #this is my first fic #be kind

[loominggaia]

With all the horrible, nasty things we have learned about each high ruler, is their anything not disgusting about them? Any wholesome or embarrassing secrets about them you can spill to balance things out?

They're all bad people overall, but each of them still has their positive aspects too. Although what is "positive" to one person may be negative to another, but generally speaking...

Gultopp Folkvar: Throws a lot of money towards anti-slavery campaigns and even funds slave liberation groups around the world. Genuinely loves his disabled daughter and just wants her to be healthy, even if his attempts to help her are misguided. Loves his wife and other children as well, always treats them kindly. Believes in his kingdom and wants it to succeed.

Marghan Matuzu: Has a beloved pet jungle gryphon that he spoils rotten. Known to occasionally hand a fat wad of cash to random poor people when he's bored just to watch them freak out. Secretly cries to sad music.

Chua Lamai: True to their faith, is not merely pretending to be religious to score political support like most of their predecessors. Tries to avoid violent conflict whenever possible. Takes pride in their culture and donates a lot of their personal funds to local schools and museums. Honors their ancestors.

Roz Yerim-Mor: Tries to avoid war and conflict at all cost. Known to be a kind and generous person in general. Cares about his kingdom and wants it to be better, even he doesn't know how to go about fixing it.

Qara Zareen: Big promoter of free speech and personal freedom, has blocked a lot of censorship bills during her reign. Outspoken about body positivity, sex positivity, LGBT rights, and equality for both sexes. Also vocally condemns slavery.

Indiga Evangeline: Cares about her kingdom and her people and is trying to do the right thing for them the best way she knows how. Loves and still supports her daughter Azura as much as she can, even if she's rebellious. Is a very competent ruler. Not greedy, actually donates a lot of her own money towards bettering her peoples' lives.

Oberon Mogdir: To his credit, he has never actually hit, cussed at, or directly treated anyone badly. Homie hates getting his hands dirty, so to speak, so when he needs to rough someone up, he makes someone else do it for him. He's actually extremely warm and pleasant to interact with. If you aren't aware of what a shitbag he is, you'd never guess because he's genuinely hospitable, even to his enemies. He's never once yelled at or struck his wife, despite all the despicable things he's done to her. He's very polite as he's doing them. Also more lenient about monster rights than most, fully supportive of LGBT rights and equal rights for men and women.

Hethor Etios: Takes no one's shit. Does not compromise on what she believes is right. Has faith in her own cause. Genuinely cares about the welfare of gaians, even satyrs. Against slavery in all its forms. Believes in equal rights for both sexes. On board with LGBT rights. Feels genuine remorse for cheating on her husband and giving up her illegitimate son. Still says a prayer for her son every day.

Titania of the Seelie: Could have conquered a lot more land, but had the morality and maturity to not only stop her conquest, but to forfeit most of her land back to her victims. Tries very hard to avoid wars and conflicts whenever possible. Sleeps with a body pillow because she’s horribly lonely, but too jaded to enter a relationship with a mortal.

Morgause of the Unseelie: Supports rights and equality for all faerys. Fights for what she believes in and does not compromise on what she wants. Supports LGBT rights and equal rights for both sexes. Prioritizes mental health care in her kingdom, which is quite rare.

Serafeen of Damijana: An actual super-genius. Gets her hands dirty and involves herself directly in her own experiments. Believes in her cause and genuinely wants to see Damijana be an advanced utopia one day, even if her way of going about it is questionable. To her credit, she gave Tarajeen as much leeway as she could despite her increasingly insane behavior, waited until the absolute last possible moment to imprison her and really didn't want to, gave her a lot more chances than most Damijani rulers would. Also agreed to talk to Jeimos afterwards, when she could have easily blown them off and brushed her hands of the situation. Once got pregnant by one of her military generals, but aborted the fetus and had the general executed to protect her reputation.

Sovereign of Aquaria: His methods are heinous, but his cause is noble at its roots. He does care about Aquariankind and wants to stop their suffering, even if he has to destroy all of Terria to do it. Actually feels angry and hurt when he sees Aquarians being harmed by Terrians.

#ask #askpolitics #askliterature