#Celebrity-Approved Fashion

[shaadiwish]

We spotted many celebrities donning amplifying fashion with some mundane silhouettes or the go-to backless cuts. In 2024, designer blouses are set to go bolder and better with gilded and bejeweled embellishments.

[ur-mag]

Camel Coats Always Look Elevated—28 That Get This Fashion Editor's Approval | In Trend Today

Camel Coats Always Look Elevated—28 That Get This Fashion Editor’s Approval Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[alpha-mag-media]

Camel Coats Always Look Elevated—28 That Get This Fashion Editor's Approval | In Trend Today

Camel Coats Always Look Elevated—28 That Get This Fashion Editor’s Approval Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

How Bad Do You Want Me?

Summary: Rumors have begun to circulate that King Viserys’ second son, Prince Aemond is to be betrothed at his name day celebration. Several eligible ladies of various houses have caught the eye of various members of the court who feel they are the best choice for the prince. You happen to be one of these ladies pining for the prince. When the final supper begins, so does chaos as “encouragement” in the form of a mysterious blue liquor aids the ladies in pursuing the prince. You fear all you can do is simply watch.

Warnings: smut, fluff, dubcon, voyeurism, breeding kink, reader is of house estermont, MINORS DNI, 18+

Word Count: 8.4K+

Read on Ao3

Author’s Note: Written for @ewanmitchellcrumbs Big Fucking Stupid Sex Pollen Writing Challenge

The quiet gentle command that you hold still made you whimper. 

You had been poked and prodded for hours.

Your cheeks were being pinched with light rogue. 

Your hair was being teased with silver, blue, and green tinsel. You could feel hands pulling and twisting at your scalp. Small sea shells had been placed in your hand in such a precisest and patterned way. The pain made the corner of your eyes leak. 

Your lips puffed out in a pout plumping them enough that a pair of hands could lightly paint them the pale sweet pinkened color that was in fashion this evening.

You sucked in a breath as handmaids pulled at your corset. 

Tighter.

Tighter. 

Tighter. 

It made your bust more well featured and forward facing then it normally was. 

Was this a falsity? 

Could you be arrested for putting on a false front to the prince? 

“Oh your blush is beauty, my lady!” The expensive beauty artist exclaimed in delight. Your family had paid a hefty fee to this artist to make you look as presentable as possible this evening. “Prince Aemond will not be able to take his eyes off you!” 

“Eye.” You corrected. 

Prince Aemond Targaryen only had one eye. He had lost the other in a childhood spat with his nephew. A beautiful elusive sapphire had replaced it under a leather patch.

“Oh, of course. My apologies Lady Estermont.” Your name was not a teasing sound as your brothers had called you. Instead you heard the tang of fear and reverence in her tone. Another pair of hands were gently attaching tiny gemstones to your collarbone. 

You saw how they sparkled in the light of the sunset coming through your chambers.

“This is some of my best work I must say.” The older woman stepped back admiring her work. You looked up at her in the long lashes she had aided in extending with near torturous tools. “Oh, you are simply a doll, my dear! If you are not betrothed by the end of the night -” 

“By the prince.” Your mother corrected stepping into the room. Her eyes cast over you examining every inch of your form from the seafoam fitting gown to the beautiful glitter of your wet teased locks. “That will be all. Let me have a moment with my eldest.” The elder Lady Estermont waved the handmaidens away who scampered off in a bit of fear and uncertainty. 

You cast your eyes away for a moment. 

You felt a slap of your mother’s fan against the table. 

“Stop that. Confidence. What did we talk about?” Your eyes, big and wet, looked upward to her. You straightened up showing off the assets peeking from your bodice. 

“I shouldn’t . . .” 

“What was that? Speak up!” 

“I should show off my beauty and be confident in who I am.” Your mother nodded in approval before looking you over again. 

“This is coin well spent. Every feature that was lovely on you before is even lovelier now. Your hair. Your sweet eyes. Your bosom. Gods, you are so beautiful, my sweet girl.” She turned you toward a mirror to show you exactly what had become of you this fine evening. “If he can not see that then he must have lost vision in his other eye as well.” 

You nibble on your lip to see your mother was quite right. You felt beautiful looking at yourself in the mirror. Gone was the tattered hair of the wind swept morning at the tourney. Your plain dowdy gown of the morn had been replaced by a tulle fabric dress full of seafoam green pastels, sparkling silver sea shells, and elegant threading. There were small gems, blues and greens, designed in patterns of tiny turtles spread across the skin of your bosom showcasing the sigil of your house. Your face was painted, but not so heavily that you did not recognize yourself. The eye makeup brightened your face and made it brighter, happier even. 

A smile crossed your face. 

“See I told you. You love it don’t you? My little princess.” Your mother squeezed your pinkened cheeks. You could not help, but giggle. 

“Mother,” You warned. “I am not a princess.” 

“Not yet. But you are always a princess to me. No matter what happens tonight.” Her palms slapped to your hips. “But I will say these are hips fit to breed a little prince.” 

“Mother!” Again a warning, but she was sure to see you blush. 

It was no secret of your desire for Prince Aemond. 

His presence had been strong in your life with stories of his prowess in sword fighting and his intellect in various subjects. You admired him from a far since a young girl at various tourneys and festivities always wistfully trying to catch his eye. He was handsome even after he lost his eye. Perhaps even more as it made him mysterious. When you entered your late teen years you found your mind imagining at night while alone what it would be like to kiss the prince, to be with him perhaps in a way where you could use your breedable hips. 

Now that you were a grown woman and he was a grown man you thought perhaps such a union could be in sight. 

When your parents had noted the gossip of a betrothal on the prince’s name day you blushed and asked if you might be a well suited match. 

They had been elated by the prospect. Having their eldest marry into Targaryen royalty would be such a joy. Your brother Leon had been the one to represent your house at the tourney. You had seen earlier that day at the festivities he had taken on a friendship with the elder prince, Aegon. Perhaps he could put in a good word for you. 

Your attention during the tourney had not been on the event itself. Nor had it been Prince Aemond who seemed more disinterested than anyone else at the event. Enough that his mother, Queen Alicent would occasionally nudge him when he needed to clap. The prince would give slow claps to the victors of the various events of the day. You instead had been enamored with a book, as was your usual distraction. 

After your brother had lost his first event, you decided to visit some stalls for food. However upon passing the stables you found the winning horse racing by you quicker than you realized. You had lost your balance crying out, stumbling. You had cursed aloud. Not for your soiled dress, but as your precious book fell into the muck. 

You scrambled to get it uncaring that your dress would get dirtier, but a hand retrieved it. 

“Hmmmm . . .” The hum had made your cheeks blush. 

Your eyes had fluttered up to Prince Aemond Targaryen, gently observing the book. 

“This is an older edition.” He mused. 

“Oh, yes, my prince.” You scrambled up slipping momentarily. His eye cast down to you though before he could assist you, you presented yourself upright. “I am not finished with the third edition. I’m versing myself with all the editions before moving on to the latest.” You were confused why your eyes were transfixed on the book. You were on a rather fascinating passage. Besides, it was your book. “I should like it back. If it . . . pleases you.” 

He finally caught your eye. 

His violet eye was quite stunning. 

It did in fact make your heart skip. 

It went wide for a moment taking you in. A soft frown appeared across his face. 

“You have ruined your gown.” His eye lingered at the smear of mud across your knees. “Do you enjoy sword play, Lady Estermont?” You blinked softly nodding. 

“Yes, it fascinates me. The movement can be used both in dance and battle. I find it very beautiful.” You had never been so open and honest about your interests. He nodded softly as you spoke. 

“Hmmm . . .” He looked over the soiled book again, holding it delicately between his fingers. “I will have the guards bring the proper edition to your chambers. Please enjoy the festivities. I look forward to seeing you dance this evening.” He dipped his head before leaving you, taking your books with him. 

You had pouted a bit, but that had faded when he had fulfilled his promise. 

The new book sat on your vanity in your chambers at the Red Keep. The grand ball was approaching. Rumors were rapid that a betrothal for the prince would be decided at the ball. You wanted it to be you even though you were not from a major house. The encounter with the prince had only made you desire him more. He had been sweet to you and you think perhaps a little taken with your interest in swordplay. 

In truth, many topics Prince Aemond had fascination in had been ones you held interest in as well. It was not just his station you were interested in as your parents seemed to desire, but your desire to have a husband who valued your interests as well as your beauty. 

Desire was key in a union, not just physical, but emotional as well. 

You sighed looking at the book. 

“And if he does not desire you as a wife,” Your mother said once more. “He is the fool and we will find someone worthy of your strengths.” She kissed you gently on the forehead. There was a soft sadness in your eyes as you thought of the notion of being rejected. “But you have tonight. Enjoy yourself. Nights like these do not come as often when you start baring little ones.” Your mother pressed a hand to your hip and another to your belly. “You will know where we are should you need assistance, but,” She looked at you again in the mirror. There was a prideful look in her eyes. “I feel as though you will do splendidly tonight.” 

You desperately wish for it to be true as well. 

***

It was a busy evening on the dance floor. 

You slowly cut into your meal seated with other young maidens. You noted the soft conversations among the ladies. Floris and her sisters seemed to be discussing the fashion of the evening. There were many dark colors that seemed to blend into one another, greens to represent favor for Queen Alicient and blacks in favor of the king. Many ladies had draped themselves in velvet and navy blues to favor Aemond’s rumored sapphire eye. The women were a bit nasty pointing at the ill fitting dresses of one such house. 

“That is not gold.” There was a soft giggle from her sisters as Maris spoke. “She is embarrassing herself in such a gown.” You watched their eyes to see their eyesight was on the youngest girl of House Lefford, a vassal house for House Lannister. She was very pretty, prettier than any of the Baratheon sisters you thought with a blush, but the shine on her dress is too bright to appear real. 

“It is hideous, is it not?” Ellyn turned to you with a flutter in her eye. 

You see Floris eye you, suddenly. 

You had grown up with the Baratheon sisters. You played and been in the company of the same tutors. You know how important it is to be agreeable. You simply nod before shoving a forkful of pheasant past your teeth. Even if you do not agree. 

“Your gown is quite . . . unique, Lady Estermont. It certainly makes you stand out.” Floris did not seem to find the words she spoke to be complimentary. Her own outfit is dark navy in nature as she fiddled with a beautiful golden chain around her neck. 

“Yes, my mother thought it would be lovely if I truly represented Greenstone.” Your smile was bright and innocent. Ellyn mimicked your smile. Floris stood announcing she should mingle among the other ladies. 

“You should also mingle among the ladies, Lady Estermont. Do not be a wallflower as you usually are.” With that Lady Floris Baratheon ventured to the dance floor already becoming crowded as the music began. 

You felt yourself flush at the notion that you blending to the background goes noticed by Lady Floris. 

“You do look lovely. The seafoam green coloring is truly bright amongst the dark stormy colors.” The young Ellyn stated. She would be old enough to be seen as a potential suitor as well. She was very sweet and would make the prince a pretty obedient wife. 

“Are you not joining?” You asked as you began to stand. Ellyn was the only sister to have not left the table. Maris and Cassandra were already chatting with lords of other houses. 

“I would not think to fight my sisters for the prince’s hand.” She laughed lightly putting a goblet to her lips. “Or yourself I would say. Please enjoy the evening, Lady Estermont.” 

You nodded, hiking the lovely tulle of your dress up to step down from your elevated table onto the dance floor. The music began in the air causing your nerves to bubble in your throat. You can see now just how many stunning young women are fluttering about. You knew their families have also spent a hefty amount of gold on their looks. Every girl seems to be struggling to stand out. 

You felt lost among the sea of women, all your age and you fear more beautiful than you. You know you have something better than the other ladies. A wondrous and curious mind that could challenge the prince, keep his interest. You can barely hear the king’s proclamation of the evening as the chattering continues in the crowd. You watch the discomfort on Prince Aemond’s face as his father clasps a hand on his second son’s shoulder. 

There is a lingering sense of pride on King Viserys’ face looking at his son declaring that he is a man. He also adds on what they are there for this evening. 

“I see so many young maidens ready to vie for the prince’s hand. I assure you by the end of the night one lucky young maiden will have the coveted prize.” There was a smattering of excited whispers. You saw that the prince’s cheeks darkened in embarrassment. Though he stood when prompted to raise his cup. 

“May this evening be a joyous one.” 

After the toast, the evening started off swiftly. It was hard for you to find the prince as so many young ladies were interested in his hand. Floris was the first to receive a dance with Prince Aemond. You were left being asked by one of the lords of the Reach who seemed nervous to speak to you. 

He was agreeable with movement. You were glad to not have your toes stepped on. You saw after the dance and some light clapping that Floris was lightly touching Aemond’s arm. The queen passed off a goblet to a guard who handed it off to Floris as she curtsied to the prince. Aemond remained indifferent. You attempted to excuse yourself from the lord to venture over to the one eyed prince, but the crowd was too dense. You feel yourself pushed to the side near a dark corner of the grand room. 

It is there in the darkness you heard the quiet argument. 

“I will not have you sway the decision.”

Was that the king’s voice?

“The Baratheon girl makes the most sense, my king.” 

Was that . . . the queen? 

You are too uncertain and a bit frightened to turn your head. 

“They hold a formidable strong hold and -” 

“I will not listen to this again!” You heard steps as he began to walk away. “You know as well as I that the Redwynes have offerings as well and yet you sit here and complain about the comely look of their daughter. She is a fine looking young lady, agreeable, and -” 

“Short. Homely. She is not worthy of our boy.” 

“Yes. I will admit she is not the most comely of the bunch, but if we were measuring for beauty I would ask Aegon’s advice.” 

You had heard rumors of the elder prince’s carnal desires. He frequented the brothels of Flea Bottom from what you understood according to your brother. You had chastised him for doing such lewd behavior, but he claimed he was simply endearing himself to his new friend.  

“The drink was simply for emergencies. It was meant to aid our son in his desires, not sway your choice to act on her . . . merits.” There was a venom in the king’s voice that sounded bitter. He was simply a husband chastising his wife in that moment. 

“We shall see who the prince choses.” There was confidence in Queen Alicent’s voice. 

“It is not up to him.” 

Those harsh words hit you. 

It was not up to him. 

Perhaps you were wrong then. 

Perhaps having a pull to his heart through your shared mutual interest was not something that matters in the slightest. This was not an affair of the heart, but one of political gains. Certainly it does not matter how shiny your hair was or how many gems decorate your heaving chest. Estermont simply does not have the fortitude of Storm’s End. It does not have the beautiful ships that Redwyne holds nor the copious amount of crops. 

You found globs of tears gently running down your face as you secluded yourself in an empty room. 

You should return to the boy from the Reach who held your hand so kindly. 

This evening was not meant for you to become a princess. 

It was then that you heard it. 

A soft, throaty gagging. Nearly a suckle you thought. 

A light cough echoes in the empty chambers. 

There was a little groan as well. 

You lifted your skirts realizing you found yourself in a small library or sitting room. You follow the sound around the corner. As you round the corner you find a truly shocking sight. 

Leaned against the table was the prince. He was dressed in his dark leather vestments. His knuckles gripped the edge of the stone table, white and strained. Knelt before him was the familiar form of Floris Baratheon. Her long black hair tied neatly in a braid was a little fluffed. 

“Please . . . no more.” He called out breathlessly. You heard her sucking lewdly at his crotch. 

You can not help, but curiously watch on. You had never seen such an act performed. There had been giggles amongst the other ladies of such acts, but these you have always thought to be performed by whores. Not a noble lady such as Floris Baratheon. Earlier she seemed so prim and proper. Now she was on her knees swallowing Prince Aemond’s cock. 

And yet your head tilted just so watching, envious even. 

“You are enjoying this my prince. I can feel you leaking on my tongue.” She hummed. It caused Prince Aemond’s hips to buck toward her mouth. “You are doing so well for me. Let me have all of your seed down my throat. It is so delicious. I must have more.” 

You can not help, but lick your own lips in the shadows as Floris makes her efforts more vigorous. 

“Please . . . Gods.” His eye floats open, teary and uncontrolled. 

The violet caught you watching. 

You thought you should be embarrassed, but the way he was looking at you makes another heated feeling rise in your chest. Your lashes flutter as his breath begins to grow heavier. Your lips parted for a moment listening to Floris choke. There was a sliver of drool gathering at the corner of your mouth. You used the tip of your tongue to swipe it back in. He hummed in approval at that action. 

“Swirl your tongue around the tip. Yes, like that. Oh good girl.” Prince Aemond breathed out still staring at you. The tips of his fingers tickled the top of Floris’ head. 

His gaze does not leave yours. 

“Mmmm . . . I am close.” He hummed. He must notice how you are leaning against the shelves. The heat was bubbling in your chest. Your thighs were squeezing as you felt your breasts heaving at the ecstasy you felt simply by watching the lewd act. 

You wished to replace Floris. 

You do not know why simply watching him enjoy her mouth makes you feel that way. It made you want to touch yourself, reach under your skirts and rub that little pearl that gives you -

The embarrassment won out in the end. 

You returned to the party. You fanned yourself with your hand seeing the festivities continue on completely unaware that Floris Baratheon belittled herself giving herself to lustful thoughts. Or that you were so very near to doing so yourself. When the prince returned he did not appear worse for wear. Floris however was happily red cheeked and wanting to cling to the prince. You watched the Redwyne girl float toward Prince Aemond, a beautiful hint of wetness on her lips. She lapped up traces of blue liquor looking dark eyed and wanting. 

There was continued discussion amongst the king and queen who watch the prince dance. You remained in the dark corners listening to laughter from Prince Aegon and his new friends. Your brother was among them. 

“Yes, yes, help me decide then.” Again a quiet discussion you know you are not meant to hear. 

“What about your sister?” One of the guards who is a bit drunk suggested. 

“Oh is there an Estermont lady putting herself out? I did not know you had a sister, sweet Leon.” Aegon laughed. 

“I do, my lord. My elder sister. She is very lovely, but she is modest and a bit timid.” 

“Perhaps she needs that push then.” Aegon loudly declared. “The liquor is made from a rare blue lily that ‘aids’ in arousal of any who drink it. It is said to make a man instantly hard and a lady . . . well . . . let’s just say a lady would be irresistible in such a state.” She heard the laughter in the darkness slinking away from the sound so as to not be caught. 

“It would be a bit . . . humorous . . . if it was a lady you fancied, my lord.” Her brother suggested. The other boys seemed to agree. “Who’s to say her advances are not eyed to you later in the evening? Now, who shall we . . . oh the Lannister girl, my prince!” You knew immediately Leon suggested Cerelle Lannister because he has fancied her ‘assets’ for quite some time. “Look how fine and plump her bosom is. Could you simply see yourself burying your face or your coc -” 

You hurried off before you could hear more lewd words come from your brother’s mouth. You settled yourself at your table eating honeyed cakes deciding not to speak much. You decline a few dances from some minor lords’ sons. You had quite the evening so far and would rather eat, drink, and process the information that has befallen you. 

It appears there is a blue liquor being gifted to some noble ladies to encourage them to seek attention from Prince Aemond. 

You tipped the red wine in your goblet to your lips. 

It merely makes your ears buzz and eases your smile. 

It does not make you hunger uncontrollably for a prince’s cock. 

You hiccuped at the lewd thought letting your eyes watch as the petite Redwyne girl pull Prince Aemond away. 

You took the last sip of your wine before deciding to follow. 

The study was silent minus the pleasurable whines of the young noble woman. 

“Yes, my prince, please, let me ride you, my dragon.” The wetness in the air was lewd. 

The scent of sex strings your nostrils. 

She was already on him? 

You did not think it took you so long to cross the ball room to the study. 

“We could simply . . . talk. You do not have to . . .” He groaned loudly as she angled herself in such a way. 

You were watching now. 

Her long auburn hair flows down her back. The prince was seated in a sturdy wooden chair. Her  skirts, a lovely deep purple, are hiked up. Her palms were laid flat on the stone table as she rode him hard. 

“But I must! I must ride you! You feel so good inside my core! Oh Gods!” The chair squeaked as she rocked against him harder. 

Gods was she loud!

The prince over her shoulder caught your eye. 

She was nearly screaming. 

“My Gods! Be quiet. Do you want it known that I am taking your virtue?” His hand was around her throat. You could hear her giggle. She was delighted by the gesture. His eye then went to you. There was wonderment in his eye. 

You feel as if he were asking if you enjoyed the gesture. Your hand flexed. He squeezed a bit tighter around her long throat. His hips jutted forward meeting hers. 

“Now,” His eye shifted to the woman momentarily. “Be good. Be slow. Rock your hips a bit easier. Don’t you enjoy riding your prince? You wouldn’t want either of us to cum so soon?” 

“Cum?” She asked so innocently. 

“Spill my seed. Of course not inside you. I don’t want a bastard.” The bitterness at the last words made your heart flutter. Despite the depravity of the evening Prince Aemond still appeared gentlemanly. 

“But my prince -” He covered her mouth. 

“Shut your whore mouth and ride me.” 

She did that. Her breaths were a bit more delicate. His eye was focused on you. He observed how your body reacted to the sight, but you feel like a doe caught in a hunter’s gaze. Your lower parts fluttered as his mouth opened letting out a soft groan. You rubbed your ankles together as if in need of friction. Your arse gently rubbed at the corner of a bookshelf you attempt to hid part of yourself behind. The feel of solid wood through your dress makes your lashes flutter closed. 

You wish for princely hands to be on your bum. 

“Prince Aemond!” 

Your eyes opened to see the prince has grabbed onto the Redwyne woman’s arse. There was not too much to speak of, but he pulled it to him fucking up into her as she bared down. It made your face heat and a wetness gather below you. 

He was looking directly at you now with an intensity that makes your walls flutter. 

You let out a soft long breath. 

“What was -” 

You disappear before she can ask further. 

You could hear wet slapping as you exit the study. 

It was then that you decided to find your brother. 

You hit him without warning. 

“Oh, ow! What was that for?” He whined as if he wasn't a knight. 

“Why are you discussing Cerelle Lannister with Prince Aegon?” There was a bit of fire in your tone and in your eyesight.. It’s anger and frustration from seeing the prince engage with two different women. Perhaps this was sexual frustration. Damn your virtue!

“Oh, of course you were listening in, nosey brat!” He huffed pushing you lightly. You were smaller than him, but still his elder sister by a few years. “She is a nice looking noble lady. Why should I not point that out to the prince?” 

“You should be talking me up to him. Not trying to -” 

“Well, maybe I do not want to discuss my sister’s tits. Did you ever think of that, Lady Estermont?” You wanted to fume at him, but you understand. “You understand that is all men are after? Especially noble men as these. Good breeding stock and a nice pair of tits to bury themselves in. I know you think yourself a match for goodly Prince Aemond, but being learnad in the arts of swordplay and fancying a good book is not a realistic way matches are made, sweet sister.” There was a pout on your lips. “Oh please do not do that. You know I am only being realistic. Your romantic fancies are not reality.” 

“I am a nice looking lady. We are of a good noble house. I . . .” You tried to explain your cause. 

“We do not have much to offer. And you are beautiful. More lovely and chastise and sweet then any other lady here. I know this. But sometimes betrothals are a game. Sometimes we lose such games.” There were tears in your eyes. “I know the second son of Lord Rosby has asked of you. Perhaps you can indulge him in a - wait - sister! Wait!” 

You do not realize you have wandered away from the conversation. Leon was calling for you. You sneaked back into the study. You hold a handkerchief to your face as you pat your eyes carefully trying not to smear the makeup. The evening seems all, but hopeless. To make matters worse you hear Prince Aemond grunting. You hear a light airy breath crying out in pleasure. 

“Yes, please, more my prince. Harder. Fuck my cunt harder.” 

There is a pounding and wetness. 

You blinked away tears. 

You looked around the corner. 

You can not see Cerelle Lannister’s face as she was bent over the stone table facing away from you. You do recognize her lovely wine red gown, silk and lace moving harshly as the prince fucks into her backside. His head turns, hair swaying with him. His eye locked to you. His face dropped from harsh delight to innocent curiosity. You pat your face of tears. 

“Oh harder! Why do you waver? I need you to fuck me!” 

Prince Aemond casts his eye down then back to you. 

The question was there. 

“Yes . . .” You say softly. 

His hands grasped her hips. Your hand pets your own, firm and fertile as your mother described. You wish he was grabbing your hips, fucking into you hard and fast as he is her. 

“Yes! Please! I need your seed. Give me your Targaryen babe!” 

Your heart was in your throat. 

Your cunt flutters. 

You want him to fill you with his seed. 

You want to bear so many babes.

You wish to be bred. 

“No.” He said harshly. He pushed her head down. “I’ll spill on your plump ass and you will beg for more.” She squealed in delight. Any words were honey and heaven to her from sweet Prince Aemond’s mouth. 

The harsh words nearly undo you. You leaned harshly forward rubbing your clothed cunt against the corner of the bookshelf. He watched you in delight fucking her harder. 

“You are so wet. All for me? You like that sweet friction, the stretch of my cock. Can you feel my tip there? That sweet spot inside you. Fuck you are tight. I bet you are so tight.” 

It was then, despite how he had been staring at you, you realized he was speaking to you directly. 

You can not help your shyness. 

You left. 

The noise of the party hit you. Your brother caught your eye from across the way. You steal your gaze trying not to show that he has affected you. The boy you danced with earlier found you. He made small talk asking you about your evening. You tried to be polite. You are distracted hearing Cerelle’s airy laugh. She was on the arm of Aegon now. Your eyes scanned the room trying to see who else had caught Aemond’s fancy. Instead you find his sister, Helaena handing a shiny goblet to the young pretty girl from House Lefford. 

Her silky gold dress catches the light beautifully. It was then that you realize that Floris did not know what she spoke of. The dress was spun of pure gold looking absolutely stunning. You watched as she finished the liquor in the goblet. Helaena ventures to her husband whispering in his ear. Prince Aegon excuses himself from a disappointed Lady Cerelle to speak with his wife. 

“Our brother is too shy. I see him making eyes at Lady Lefford.” You heard as you venture closer. Helena seemed firm in her choice. “She is so sweet. She will make him a perfect little wife.” 

“Oh please, our brother needs a forward woman. Lady Lannister -” 

“It appears you would like the Lady Lannister.” Helena added. “Your cock will be gold by the end of the night, never fear.” She slapped his cheek playfully before huffing away. 

You locked eyes with her. 

“Princess Helaena.” Your voice was soft as you bow low. 

She hummed a pretty song tilting her head. 

“Oh I am so sorry. I barely saw you this evening. Oh my gods, your dress is so lovely!” She happily touched it without thinking. “You are a vision of beauty. I hope I have not made a mess of things.” You shook your head not quite understanding. 

“I have had a fine evening. The ball has been so lovely.” 

“But you did not come for the ball.” You blinked confused, but the princess merely smiled at you. “Here,” She handed you a silver goblet, full of thin blue liquor. The smell was so sweet it reminded you of stealing handfuls of sugar from the kitchens just because it was naughty. “If you should need encouragement, indulge yourself.” 

She hummed and walked off to the crowd. 

You settled yourself besides Ellyn who offered you a bowl of fresh berries. You take it looking at the swirling mix of blue coloring within your goblet. When you look up you see Lady Lefford, beautiful golden hair in an intricate braid atop her head. She was seated on the thigh of Prince Aemond. You saw her fingers wipe the corners of his mouth. Your eyes lingered to find her other hand. It was under the table. By the looks of the prince’s face you could tell she was pleasuring his cock with her other hand. 

“I am in need of some fresh air.” You decided to say. 

You stood letting your eyes linger on the goblet. You took it roughly carefully not to spill. You hold it between your breasts as if nestling it for safety. You found yourself outside amongst the beautiful gardens of the evening. You hear giggles of various couples stealing away moments. You can see Cerelle on her knees before Prince Aegon leaning lazily against a white oak. He pushes her head down to devour his cock. 

“Seven hells, that mouth, fuck, that blue shit really works.” He moaned. The prince caught your eye winking.

You ventured further into the garden until you can slip into the greenhouse. The moon caught your attention above the glass windows and high ceiling. You slowly closed your eyes breathing in the clarity of the evening. The serenity coated you in a feeling you do not quite understand. You wish desperately for understanding. You do not know why seeing the prince with those other women both hurt you and excited you. 

Perhaps it is the thought of being those women, but not taking the risk of your heart. 

If your brother was right and men only want one thing, you know it would break you. 

You were more than a bit romantic. You loved the idea of being in love with a righteous and honorable man. Someone who could love you, protect you, hold you close. Yes, you would enjoy being taken in such raw manners as you had seen tonight, but is that of such high importance that a gentleman would want of carnal desires before a good loving wife? 

You looked down at the blue liquor swirling in the dark reflective surface. 

It was meant to spark a desire. 

You already have a desire, cool and wet between your thighs. 

It would only strip away the thought of keeping your maidenhead intact. 

“Lady Estermont?” It was a soft voice that made your heart flutter. 

Before you in the darkness stood Prince Aemond Targaryen. He was well pressed and presented with a stark sadness in his purple eye. 

“My prince?” You wondered unsure whether to step forward or not. “What troubles you so?” 

“I . . .” His eye cast downward in shame. “I must apologize for my behavior this evening, my lady. Such acts are not befitting a prince. Such lewdness should not have bewitched your gaze.” The soft stuttering in his voice showed you the truth of it. He was deeply ashamed. He even stood with his hands behind his back. 

You blinked softly hearing the chirp of crickets and the song of the sweet breeze. 

The temptation was in your grasp, the sweet smell of fine blue liquor that tainted your nostrils. 

 “I . . . you are forgiven, my prince. I . . . must say,” You nibbled at your lip, a loss for words. “I did not mind it. Seeing you in such a state.” You swirled the goblet. “I enjoyed it even. Watching you. Having you watch . . . me.” 

When there was silence you fear you have said the wrong thing, though when you look up you see him. Watching you again he slowly moved forward. You do not know why your step falls back at this or why you hold the goblet closer to your chest. You most certainly know why your breaths have become heavier. 

“I thought as much.” His eye looked you over. Your own pulse rattled in your ears so strongly you felt you would barely hear him. “It pleased me very much to know you were enjoying yourself. To see you watching me. The secret shared between us. It was . . . toxicating.” The last word made your eyes sting with want. 

“I wish I was them. I wish I had the courage to . . .” You could not believe you were saying the words aloud. “Oh please forgive me, my prince. My thoughts are improper for a lady to say aloud. Forget I ever spoke.” You turn to walk away when you feel his hand settled on your tight waist, gentle and soft. 

“I would have liked to ask you to dance.” It was a small voice, one full of innocence. “But the evening . . . hmmm . . . it took me on a different course. But please, Lady Estermont, know that my greatest desire was to share one dance with you and perhaps even if I was worthy of your immaculate beauty . . . a kiss.” 

The gasp left your mouth as you turned to meet his shameful gaze. 

The desire for a sweet kiss was certainly the most innocent of actions he could enact tonight, but still there is a sliver of shame there in asking. 

“I know my actions tonight are not those of a gentle prince worthy of your hand, but I know what has been done. Everyone has thoughts of what bride I deserve enough to even sway favor, but they know not of what I desire.” He was slowly moving you closer to him. You were slowly watching those lips. You cautioously press the cool goblet between your breasts. “I want a wife who is interested in not only my desires of the flesh, but of the mind as well. I want a wife I can hold a conversation with. One who is insightful and thoughtful. One who is stubborn enough to read through every edition of a book in order from front to back.” There was a soft smile developing between you. “One who smells of the fresh ocean and looks as if a cloud has risen from the roaring sea shore.” He fiddled with your tulle. He smelt the fresh shells sewn into your dress. “It is you I desire. You I want as my wife.” 

He was so close to your lips. 

His breath was hot. 

You can see the wetness is there from licking with pure animalistic need for you. 

But your body was afraid. It trembled. 

You brought the goblet between you and the prince. 

You drink deeply. 

“My lady?” He was left baffled by the action. 

You could feel a soft sweet burn at your lips. A tingle slid down your throat as you felt the mixture of cool and warmth burn downward. 

“I feel similar, but I wish to act on it. Why should the others have all the fun?.” There was a sudden ache on your skin. If you are not touched you will surely die. The tremble crept to your body. “I want you.” 

You pulled the prince in for a devouring kiss. 

He responded in kind letting his tongue snake between your teeth. The cup was about to tumble from your hands when he grabbed it. He broke the kiss long enough to drink what remained in the goblet. 

“You will not be alone in your desire tonight. I will have you in every way I have dreamed of.” 

You do not have long to think of what those words implied. 

He had dreamed of you. Before this evening. As you have of him. 

He grabbed those hips of yours as his mouth devoured you. His lips were so very hungry for you that you felt the horrid battle of wet sloppy kisses. You grew wetter as he touched you. Especially when his wet kisses travelled down your neck to your heaving chest. He licked and nipped at your breast pulling down the bodice so your areolas were exposed to him. 

“So soft. All mine.” His teeth scraped there. You felt as though you needed him more. 

“Please, Prince Aemond. Will you . . . please . . .I need you between my legs.” You do not know what ludicrous words slip from your tongue. He suckled at the fat of your bust smacking them lightly with his palm to observe them move and hear how you giggled. 

“Yes, I should like to devour you there.” 

Before you knew it his head was under your skirts. You waited to take in the sensation. His lips were at your inner thighs leaving wet trails of kisses. You groaned loud and low looking to the moonlit sky until . . .

“OH GODS.” You covered your mouth as you feel HIS mouth licking you at your wetness. 

You grow wetter with every lazy lick and every suckling kiss there at your core. You could hardly breath feeling him kiss you there as he kissed your lips. Every nerve ending in your body was screaming out. You could barely keep standing. Your legs begin to tremble. Two of his fingers have entered your slick. You were nearly crying from the pleasure of those fingers and his needy licks. His hand steadies you to stand until you were a heated whimpering mouth. 

You spilled a sweetness onto his tongue. 

You nearly fall to your knees, but the prince anchored you continuing to lap up your juices. 

“May I have your cock?” The words spilled from your mouth before you can think. He hummed against your slick still under your skirts. “I need your cock, Prince Aemond. I’ll die if you don’t have me.” Your walls fluttered and pulsed with strangled desire. “Please . . . I need it.” You were nearly whimpering. You were, but a puddle of raw desire. 

His head peaked from under your dress. You saw his chin is nearly dripping with clear fluid. 

“My cock? I should like to hear the future princess beg again.” He settled his hands at your plump hips. “Tell me again, sweet girl. What do you need?” 

“Your cock. Please. Oh please.” You bucked your hips forward. 

“Shall I bend you over as Lady Lannister or let you ride me like the Redwyne girl?” Oh he was being cruel, though you sawa painful strain in his trousers as he stood.

You pulled at the laces there. Your small hand found and palmed the tip of his cock. He nearly cried in pain as you began to undo the laces. 

“Fold me and breed me, my love.” It was a lewd phrase you read in a sultry story from your mother’s shelf. It was a phrase that fascinated you greatly. To be bred would be a great honor. 

The light in the prince’s eyes was so strong and deeply black you know you have said the right phrase. 

“Breed you? You do know not what monster you unleash, my lady.” The way his voice curled at the words made you quiver. 

“I know exactly what I ask for.” You pressed a kiss to him before fondling and releasing his cock. “This, inside me, I want it more than anything I have ever wanted in my life.” You pet it as if it were your sweetest most obedient kitten. “I want it to spill inside me. Fill me with a child. Please, is that not what you wish?” He hummed at the thought. 

“What of your -” You seal off his protest with a devastating kiss. 

You would climb him should your dress be less cumbersome. Instead you settle for letting your arms entrap him and claw at the skin of his neck. You can not get close enough to him. You can not breath enough of his salty sweat and the sting of sweetness of the liquor on his tongue. 

Or is it your tongue? 

You do not know where his lips begin and yours end. 

His hands gripped the plump of your bottom pushing you into his hardness. He lifted you up to him traveling Gods knows where. You felt yourself laid out on a flat surface looking up into the prince’s seething black eye. The pupil was dilated with festering hunger that it made you heave with soft whimpers. You realized that Prince Aemond has settled you on an iron-wrought bench. Slowly you reached up to caress his cheek. He leaned in biting the flesh of your palm. 

His chest was also heaving. 

“I would not deny you any longer. Please. Take me as you desire.” Your words tremble from your lips before you could regret them. His eye looked at you, almost harshly. 

His lust was uncontrollable. 

Your small clothes have already been left abandoned. 

“I have defiled many ladies tonight.” He cages you with his body. His hands harshly spread your cream soft thighs eliciting a gasp from your mouth. He massages you gently edging his long lean fingers closer to your needy soaked sex. “But you are the only one I truly desire.” 

He kissed behind your ear lobe letting his hands under your dress to loosen your corset. Your breath let out more easily. The heat was rising to every area of your body. 

“For so long I have observed you at these dreaded events.” His fingers teased the tinsels in your hair. “The way you read. How quiet and delicate you are. The way you dance. You are such a sight I hold dear.” You felt his hardness, the tip bulbous and wet, teasing your entrance. “I have spent many nights imagining what beautiful small noises you would make should I ever have the honor to enter your tight little cunt.” You shiver feeling the ease of entry. You make such a noise for him now. “Yes . . . exactly how I imagined. I would wrap my fist around this cock,” Slower and easy with stretch you cry out feeling that cock inside you. “And think of taking you just like this. Pretending my hand was your cunt. Did you think of me, sweet girl? Do ladies of your stature touch themselves?” 

“Yes . . .” You feel the prickle of tears at your eyes. There is pain softly dissipating. “I . . . have imagined such things that has made my sheets soak with desire. I have imagined my hand as yours. I have wished for release while whispering your name.” You whimper as you feel him inside you, in and then out in long strides. 

“Do I fuck you fast in these fantasties?” He thrust harshly into you letting the bench move. You cried out unexpectedly feeling the mix of pain and absolute pleasure. “Or slow and loving?” He slowed giving long strokes grazing his cock along your walls. 

“Both, my prince.” 

“Hmmm . . .” He continued his slow steady pace. His hand fiddled with your hair before running it down your soft cheek. “Tonight will be the last night you call me that.” He leaned forward to kiss your cheek then whisper his desire in your ear. “From tomorrow forward you will call me husband.” 

He moved quicker holding you sweetly even as his body grew furious to find release. Gods, the pleasure was so needed, but the chase of release was frustrating. You felt your walls tighten as he suckled and nibbled at your round nipple. 

“Say it.” 

“Husband.” You breathed out. 

“You are mine and mine alone.” His possessiveness unleashed something in him. He folded your thighs back. It rammed his cock deeper inside you. 

“I will spill myself inside you, not like the others tonight. My seed will claim you as mine. I will marry you, perhaps tomorrow. I am certain your parents will be pleased. I will ensure our union should a babe be bred in you tonight. I will father no bastards.” You felt him hit a soft spot inside you. “Oh there it is. What a delightful sound you make. This will not be the first time I will make you squeal like that tonight.” He buried himself inside you giving shorter strokes as he whispered in your ear. 

“I will have you in every way I had the others tonight. From behind. In my hand. Riding me. Between your soft beautiful lips.” He captured them with his own, biting into them gingerly. “You will be dripping, but you will keep my seed inside you like a good wife. I am certain one of those times will fill you with a silver haired child.” 

He grabbed under your skirt at the soft flesh of your belly. 

It made you wetter. 

The thought of being bred made you so close to coming undone. 

“Aemond . . .” He rammed into you faster, harder. “Please! Yes! Make me yours! I was always yours. Always. Aemond!” 

You cried out watching as his eye squinted with a soft grunt of release. 

Gods you could feel him empty inside you. 

You were breathing, having released as well, but you were not done. 

“We are not done.” He flipped you on your belly holding the rails of the bench. Your betrothed caged you from behind. “I do not plan to end this night with false promises.” The seduction in his voice was enough to wet your slit once more. “Every night from this night forward, I will show you how badly I desire you.” 

“Yes, husband. I look forward to it.” 

Your eyes cast up at the moonlit feeling him begin to pound into you once more. 

[voxslays]

MISTLETOE

Featuring >>> Lucifer, Alastor, Vox, Velvette, Valentino, & Charlie x Reader; In which, you kiss them under the mistletoe~

A/N: TY GUYS SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS! It means the world to me!

Lucifer

This man is shocked. It has been so long since he has been kissed—let alone under the mistletoe. The two of you are alone in the lobby when this happens, only adding the cozy holiday mood. He kisses back even more passionately.

Not only will Lucifer be talking, thinking, and dreaming of that kiss for weeks—if not months—he will be pulling you aside and growing more mistletoe around the hotel. This becomes a very frequent activity between the two of you.

He will be very sad once the holidays are over…no more kisses from hubby/wifey under the mistletoe…*sigh* but don’t worry, he WILL find a way...

Alastor

Is shocked and maybe a little uncomfortable…? Alastor is on the ace spectrum, which doesn’t necessarily mean he hates getting kisses from his S/O, but probably not long passionate ones. But let’s assume he does like it…he better.

If Alastor does approve of this ‘silly’ holiday tradition, he will never seek it out. He will simply expect you to do it. It’s like he thinks you can read his mind! (You can’t…unless you can?) After a while you find out that he actually does like it, after assuming otherwise. Why couldn’t the silly deer man just tell you??

This will not be the last kiss you share under the mistletoe. And hey, maybe if he is desperate enough, he will seek it out and pull you under the mistletoe!

Vox

I’d like to think that while yes, Vox is a man of the future, he can never forget his 50’s roots. He is a huge romantic, and completely believes in the old-fashioned idea of courting. That being said, he is not above making out with his S/O before marriage. In fact, that’s what makes it even more fun, or thats what he thinks.

I can see Vox being very festive, that being said, he would be all for the classic tradition of mistletoe. Say goodbye to your ability to speak, all your lips will be doing is kissing for the month of December. Good luck girlie.

Valentino

Oh man…girlie what is going on inside that brain of yours? *sigh* You will regret.

Before you can even pull Val under the mistletoe, he has already kissed you. This man may not even be that into the holidays. He doesn’t care though, even if he is. All he wants to do is make out and…yeah. You know what I mean.

Whenever the two of you kiss it always leads to something more. No little innocent pecks of the lips like with everyone else on this post. No this man makes sure you basically can’t even walk half the time! So I wish you the best girlie!

Velvette

Ah, the holidays, such a great way to get more money from hell’s capitalism. This stylish Brit is totally looking for inspiration. One day, she has a brilliant idea—to make a fashion line inspired by Christmas plants. God she’s so smart…right?

One day, while sewing the finishing details onto the mistletoe insipired dress—with real mistletoe—You walk in. There is one more mistletoe (leaf? Branch?) left. She pulls you close and holds the mistletoe above your heads as you kiss.

Will not openly talk about it—you are only for her eyes and ears—but will force you to wear the mistletoe gown in her runway show as a reminder of the night you shared together. Yeah, she may not talk about it, but you are never living it down.

Charlie

Definitely the most wholesome of everyone in the show. She is extremely innocent and could never think a single bad thought. Plus, she is the one who came up with the whole idea of celebrating Christmas at the hotel. She did so much research, and eventually found the tradition of mistletoe. She begs you to try it out with her.

Like Lucifer, she cannot get the moment of your guys’ kiss from out of her head. She will keep bringing it up in conversations. Like ‘I just love kissing under the mistletoe’ or ‘y/n and I kissed under the mistletoe last night.’

[ghostlyferrettarot]

🎀Pick a Picture: 💗🌸💕🎀🍨 What makes you so alluring 💗🌸💕🎀🍨

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

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🌸If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!🌸

🎀Masterlist🎀 🎀Masterlist 2🎀

👑Pile 1:

I feel like you may not be aware of how powerful your gaze and aura is; im getting the message that you may be someone who is naturally really pretty looking, beautiful eyes especially. For you, it's something natural, something you don't stop to think about, but for others it's like you are meeting a celebrity, really intense. There is a duality in you: on one hand, you can be soft, almost calming, so if you are inviting someone to come closer without words, but on the other, there is an intensity they drive people insane, you are captivating. It's not that you use it in a calculated way, it's not a game. For you, it's simply your way of interacting with the world. But others find it fascinating how you manage to project so much without having to say a single word. Every time they look at you, they feel as if you are inviting them to something without even knowing what it is. Maybe they don't even realize that they are falling under the spell of your eyes, but they are, and they don't even know why. They know you as someone who does not get carried away by the superficial, someone who goes beyond what is seen, and that generates an indescribable fascination. Often, people feel that there is something special in the way you look at the world and others, something that only they can see, although in reality, everyone can see the same thing. That feeling that, even if it was just a second, something has changed inside them. And what fascinates them most is that they don't understand why. And that is the true essence of what makes you so alluring. Because you don't just look at them, you read them without them knowing that you have fully understood them. And although it may seem like all of this happens involuntarily, the truth is that it is your nature.

👑Pile 2:

What makes you so alluring its this "calm confidence" that you have. People can't help but notice you, because you're not looking for validation, you're not waiting for someone to agree with you or make you feel like you're enough. You know you are, and that inner peace is what is reflected in each of your movements. It's fascinating how you manage to attract others with just your presence, they feel that you don't need anyone's approval to be happy. You're not arrogant, nor do you boast about what you're capable of, you just are. And that simplicity, that natural authenticity, makes people around you feel comfortable, feel accepted. You have a very special way of making everyone feel good about themselves when they are around you, so if, by being in your presence, they are reminded that they can feel confident about who they are too.

The most alluring thing about all this is how, with such apparent simplicity, you create a space full of confidence, an atmosphere so powerful that people are attracted without really understanding why. You may not realize it, but you are the example of the emotional freedom that many people wish to achieve. You have that ability to walk through life without having to justify your existence, without having to provide anything to anyone. And that makes you more beautiful than anything physical, because what is reflected in you is that inner calm that only self-confident people can have. You are exactly who you're meant to be, and that's why you turn heads.

👑Pile 3:

Your charisma and your style is so interesting and alluring, you ahve an amazing fashions sense pile 3. Also, When you speak, even if it's the simplest of things, your voice has a softness that captures attention, but not in the way seeking someone attention would, but by simply being you.You charisma makes people, without knowing it, feel safe around you. There is something so comforting about the way you are, the way you give yourself over to conversations, the way you truly listen to others, that people feel comfortable opening up to you. People feel seen in your presence, and that's what draws them in. Because in a world so noisy, you are a haven of peace, a reminder that what matters most is genuine connection. And what makes you even more captivating is that you don't try hard to be. You don't obsess over how others perceive you, you don't seek to be the center of attention, nor do you put pressure on yourself to be perfect. Your charisma doesn't come from making a conscious effort to please; it simply arises from your authenticity, from that ability to be completely yourself, without pretensions. People can't help but be drawn to that calmness, to that genuine way of being in the world, and your amazing fashion sense of course, a true trend setter of what you are, the it girl/boy.

There's a quality the way you communicate that makes others read in, eager to understand what you have to say. You're a sort of beacon of quiet wisdom, someone who doesn't need to stand out to be heard.

💗🌸💕🎀🍨Thanks for reading! Tell me if it resonated and i hope you have a great day!💗🌸💕🎀🍨

[httpknjoon]

the princess and the rockstar | jjk

[PROLOGUE]

plot | Once upon a time, there was a crowd-favorite crown princess who found herself romantically involved with a famous rockstar. See how they will try to navigate the world and maybe live happily ever after.

genres | angst, fluff, modern royalty!au, celebrity!au, established relationship!au

pairing | rockstar!jungkook x princess!reader

note | made a lot of changes... this one's only a prologue! i'll be posting the first chapter in a couple of days :)

main masterlist | series masterlist | spotify playlist

[EXCLUSIVE] Royalty, Romance, Rumors: Zafiro's Queen YN Tell-All Interview With Kaira Bahl

For the first time ever, Queen YN of Zafiro sits down for an afternoon tea with The Solar’s very own Kaira Bahl to share about her journey to being the youngest ever to head a monarchy, along with telling personal stories and addressing rumors from the past. From being the world’s loved crown princess to Zafiro’s first female and youngest leader, Her Majesty opens up about what it truly means to be a queen.

As I arrive in front of the Sapphire Palace, it is surprising to see the Queen YN herself waiting by the big sapphire blue doors of the palace. Sticking to her known fashion sense, Her Majesty stunned in a customized floral Dior knee-length belted dress and white gloves. Her most-prized silver crown was absent from her head.

When I asked about it, she laughed, “It’s too heavy. I don’t wear it around at home.”

Home. Home for Queen YN is the Sapphire Palace, which is known to have 542 rooms, which include rooms for royal guests, royal staff, state meetings, offices, and bathrooms.  It also has recreational areas that Queen YN is planning to open to the public as she shared on her 20XX State of the Nation Address, one of the firsts Her Majesty has done since she was crowned five years ago.

The Queen led me to her favorite part of her home: The Garden. She proudly showed off different plants from places all over the world. She shared how each is a gift from friends, world leaders, and local Zafirons who are all aware of her passion for nature. I curiously asked what is her favorite among the countless plants. She then asked one of her staff to help her carry a vase full of reddish-orange flowers.

“These are tiger-lilies! I loved it for many reasons, but I will tell you one… I love it mainly because of the thousands of symbolisms about it,” she winked, still wearing the youthful smile she had years ago.

We had our interview in her garden. A spot was already set up for us under her acacia tree, a simple blue couch and center table with cups of tea and a variety of biscuits on it. Just like what we agreed on in the first place, this interview will only be documented through an old-school recorder and a notepad. She firmly asked for camera restrictions. The Queen also asked for my solo appearance, no teams allowed, as she will be alone during the whole interview. Just the two of us. Finally, Her Majesty asked to read the whole article first before I publish it online.

So, reader, if you are reading this article, please know that this is approved by Her Majesty herself. Anything that you might find offensive or displeasing to The Queen is already worthless for a battle cry. Again, Queen YN herself has reviewed everything in here.

With that, shall we start?

For every minute that passed, Jungkook's phone has been receiving messages from anyone who knows him. It can be from his phone's messaging app, Instagram's direct message, Facebook Messenger, or even email. He gets mentioned with every post of excerpts from your unexpected interview that was just posted tonight at midnight.

Now, it's almost three in the morning.

Jungkook has barely slept for the last couple of hours. His phone is somewhere in his bedroom, set on Do Not Disturb mode just so no one can reach him in this confusing time. Instead, he has his laptop on his dining table, staring right back at him while he holds a glass of ice-cold whisky in his left hand. The interview article is said to be a long read, requiring almost an hour to read the whole thing. But he found himself stuck in a single part of the article for three hours now.

Suddenly, looking at the tiger lily inked on his arm suffocates him. He looked away as he felt tears burning the corners of his eyes. He gulped away whatever was blocking his throat. He wanted to close his eyes, but every time he did, all he could see was you tracing the said tattoo with your index finger, then looking up at him with a small smile.

A smile that he had last seen that day. He tried looking for it in your recent photos, but he could not find it anywhere.

Taking the glass to his lips, Jungkook tries to swallow down the ache he has been feeling, hoping that it will shake off the memories out of his head and the numbness in his body. But it didn't work. Nothing worked.

AN EXCERPT FROM THE INTERVIEW:

"I pledged to be protective of everyone, whether they are from my nation or not. And if things happened between me and another person, I like to make sure that the encounters or the relationship will just remain between us."

note | hello! i'm reconstructing this series and it has been sooo long since I posted anything about this. so please let me know if you still want to be on the series taglist. i will be making a new one, so please reply below if you still want to join it. thank you! <3

THE PRINCESS AND THE ROCKSTAR TAGLIST

@rbrm094 @rjsmochii @sugaslittlekookies @saintsugar @thvlover7 @alpha-mommy69 @natalia-rmnva @coralmusicblaze @stupendouscookiehumanmug @namgoogieee @yoonjinhusbands @borahaeb1ch @lilliankoo @gxtwllsn @taechvita @snkyuv @canyon-lwt @hiii-priestess @jksgirlhere @razzletaffy @bbtsficrecs @jnk-pop @jjeonjjk7 @tokkiggukie @cuntessaiii @annoyingcolorfox @kooliv @jksgirlhere @razzletaffy @oopscoop @hani0407 @taebae19 @yunki-yunki-yunki @hellbornsworld @kissyfacekoo @ficluvr613 @kpopssuregi @prettypink11 @diamondjeon @raemanova @jalexad @lveegsoi @qualityjoonie @recklesselfless @minewlove @yooforeaa @joonwater

PERMANENT TAGLIST (CLOSED)

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21 @marblemoonstones @senaqsstuff

[dollfacewinston]

Katsuki debuted as #4 hero. His reputation had far preceded him starting with the events of the civil war in his first year at Yueii. By the time you'd arrived to the school the following year, he was basically a celebrity. And, almost from the moment you'd arrived, you'd captured said celebrity's attention. Whether it was the strength of your quirk, your friendly nature, or the way nothing about his gruffness intimidated you; you'd utterly captivated Bakugou Katsuki. By the end of that year, it was clear to the student body that a true power couple had emerged from the hero course.

Post graduation, Katsuki's position in the rankings also created a different sort of pressure for everyone around him. Until Todoroki made it to number 2, there were questions swirling in the papers about who of Katsuki's class would challenge his rank. You and your friends had taken it all in stride, doing your best to be heroes in your own right, and of course Katsuki, all business as usual, hated even discussing tabloids and bullshit posted in articles.

When your group proved unflappable, the stories then turned their attention to Katsuki's personal life. His parent's entire careers had been published, their fashion house under scrutiny purely because it was successful. Those who sought to tear him down tried emphasizing that the privileges afforded him by his family had won him a spot in the top ten. No matter the evidence otherwise through rescue after rescue, there just seemed to be a niche of those who resented any and all top heroes. This, Katsuki assured you whenever you worried over it, was just another part of it. Nothing they said affected his work or the citizen's general faith in him. If anything, curiosity drove him up in the popularity ranks, where he hovered in the low 20s to mid 30s.

Katsuki's limit, however, was reached the moment a rumor about you reached his ears. He got snappish and aggressive with the reporter who dared bring you up. "What the hell are you talking about?! Watch your fuckin' mouth when you talk about my wife!" That clip had gone viral and weirdly brought up his approval as citizens swooned over Katsuki being such a 'dedicated husband' and defending your honor.

Never mind that you two weren't married yet.

It wasn't the proposal you'd been expecting, and you'd been fielding calls from your friends for the better part of an hour when Katsuki arrived home that night. He looked tired, his face fixed in a scowl as he set his gauntlets on the floor and took off his jacket. Before he could move, you did, kneeling down to undo the buckles on his boots. You held them while he stepped out of them, then set them neatly in the rack with the other shoes. When you stood, Katsuki had a puzzled expression on his face. "What was that all about?"

Suppressing a smile, you leaned up on your toes and without any hesitation, Katsuki met you in a sweet kiss. "I just missed you, that's all."

His brows drew closer and he grunted, but didn't question it. "I ordered takeout on the way. It should arrive soon," he let you know. You hummed, following behind as he walked to the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and cracked it open, drinking half in just a few swigs. "Seriously, what's the matter with you?" he asked when he caught you watching him.

"You called me your wife," you said, your voice soft despite your eager grin.

Any sign of irritation was wiped from his face, and his crimson eyes shone with something significant. They often did when he looked at you. "Saw that, did you?" he asked almost nonchalantly, though he was also biting back a grin. "Damn reporters work too fast." He set down his water bottle and walked closer, wrapping his arms around you. "You want your ring now, or later when I can ask you properly?"

His brazen manner could still catch your breath after years knowing him. You blinked as tears began stinging your eyes. "Now's fine," you said shakily.

It wasn't until he reached into his pocket that it hit you- really hit you- that Katsuki already had the ring. It wasn't just some flippant comment when he'd called you his wife. He was already planning on making you his. Feeling all too much, tears were rolling down your cheeks as Katsuki knelt down on the kitchen floor of your apartment. He opened the box, brandishing the ring in one hand as he took your left hand in the other. The first sign of nerves showed through his normally cocky exterior as his smile grew more earnest. "Y/N, you've been the best thing in my life for ages. I feel like I don't even know who I was before you. And I don't plan on finding out what life is like without you in it. So..." You almost expected him to demand that you marry him. Instead, he took a breath and looked right into your eyes as he said the fated words. "Will you marry me?"

You nodded. Maybe a bit too eagerly, before the words were fully out of his mouth. Katsuki's smile grew. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice gentle as his thumb swept back and forth over the back of your hand.

"Yes." It was out of your mouth and suddenly it was hard to stop. "Yes. Yes!" you cried happily, bouncing in place as you watched him take the ring out of the box. It was a good thing that he was holding your hand still, because you could feel yourself shaking. He slid it carefully onto your ring finger, then kissed the back of your hand once it was on. It fit perfectly, of course. The ring looked like it had been plucked right from a daydream. It was perfect, just how you'd always hoped your engagement ring would look.

And the man who put it there looked equally perfect as he stood, still not releasing your hand. The moment he was on his feet, you launched yourself fully into his arms, squeezing the daylights out of him as you wrapped your free arm across his shoulders. He caught you without a sound, used to your excitement, obviously pleased by it. You leaned up and captured his lips in a kiss, but you had to break it as you began to sob happily. Katsuki continued to hold you close, swaying back and forth as he finally dropped your hand so he could fully embrace you.

"So fuckin' glad you're mine."

[starkeymeow]

❛ we make each other alive . .

does it matter if it hurts? ❜

I’M COMING, WAIT FOR ME.

PLOT you enter the hunger games a proud weapon of your district, only to find your sharpest blade is the boy beside you, and you’re not sure which one of you the capitol wants to break first.

CONTENT best read in dark mode, rafe cameron x reader au, blood, violence, murder, manipulation, grief, intense survival situations. not a real chapter!! explained above the cut but fleshed out below <3

main masterlist | tag list

AUTHORS NOTE i wanted to address this request, and i got excited and started planning everything. warnings: it might get brutal, and i love it sm, but thats the capitol for you.

SORRY FOR THE NON-CHAPTER, just for those who would like to scream w me bc i loveeee thg sm. all spoilers for this series as far as rafe and y/n being the capitols darlings are below the cut !! nothing more, especially how their games will go or anyt else. read at your own risk !!

HOW SNOW REACTS AFTER THEY WIN

no clue on how i’ll get you guys to win, but i’m sure it INFURIATES snow. but he knows the capitol is eating you up. you’re the monsters who loved each other just enough to refuse one final kill.

instead of making martyrs, he rebrands you: “panem creates not just killers, but loyalty. love. two perfect victors from district 2. beautiful, deadly, loyal to the capitol, and to each other.”

he spins it into a capitol miracle, but punishes you in silence. families are watched 24/7, someone rafe loves probably dies “suspiciously” in an accident, one of your siblings is drafted into the peacekeepers without a say.

but none of it is ever public. on the outside obvi, you’re panems most celebrated couple.

POST-GAMES, REWRITTEN

you’re stuck playing parts forever.

rafe becomes the capitol’s “protector”. he’s strong, silent, the ideal male victor. they give him a uniform-like aesthetic, elevate him like a fucking peacekeeper demigod.

you’re turned into the capitol’s “sharpest rose”. so lethal beauty, elegance and precision. your daggers become a fashion symbol.

you’re offered to capitol citizens for sex, like finnick. but snow frames it like it’s “fan demand.”

you refuse. punishment? your body gets surgically “enhanced” in capitol-approved ways.

rafe gives in once, to protect you. he vomits after. you never speak about it again.

MORE ON THIS BC I GOT EXCITED SRY

they embed thorns into your back. they grow out like a rose stems thorns. the capitol calls you panems rose.

they match your games maybe. like maybe i’ll say you used rose thorns or poisonous flowers as weapons in the arena.

the mods are excruciating. you’re sedated without your consent. you wake up screaming. rafe even tries to rip them out when he sees them for the first time maybe.

LIKE THIS IS HOW I PICTURE IT OK SET THE SCENE RQ

the room is white, not warm white, not soft white. but . . . surgical white. sterilized. empty. watching.

you wake up to silence.

no machines beep. no nurses hover. just weight, like a strange, foreign pressure against your back. like someone laid cold iron across your spine and forgot to take it off.

but you’re on your stomach. the bed is soft, unnaturally so. your throat hurts, your chest burns, your skin feels too tight. and then you move.

barely, a twitch of your hand. that’s all it takes. pain slices down your spine like wire being pulled through muscle. and now you know, it’s not weight. it’s not metal laid on top of you.

it’s inside you.

you don’t cry out. not yet. you breathe through it, your fingers grip the edge of the pillow. you turn your head slightly, just enough to see the side of the bed, the small silver tray. on it sits a mirror. your eyes lock on it.

you don’t want to look.

you have to.

your fingers tremble as they reach for it, shaking harder the closer they get. it’s not bravery. it’s desperation. you need to know. you drag the mirror toward you. you tilt it, angle it, and then you see it.

thorns.

they’ve carved a line of thorns into your back—

no, not into. under. you realize it now.

the sharp, jagged points are breaking through your skin, one by one, in a perfect line down your spine. metal, bone, something else. you don’t know.

they shimmer under the sterile light, gleaming like jewelry, spiked like a crown. placed like a punishment. you stare. and for a moment, your mind goes blank. but then it crashes down. and everything unravels.

you sit up too fast. you scream. you try to grab at them. blood blooms instantly, but you don’t care. you claw at your back like you can rip it all out.

you feel the weight of them now, the thorns down your spine. they’ve turned you into something beautiful.

you scream again, louder this time, and it’s his name, “rafe!”

the door slams open, and there he is, standing, not breathing, not moving. just staring. his eyes go wide when he sees you, then the blood. the thorns too. the hospital gown is stained red.

he says your name, just once, but he doesn’t come closer. so you crawl off the bed, fall, and hit the floor.

your knees give out and your hands slip. he runs to you.

“don’t touch me,” you whisper.

he stops.

“don’t— look at me.”

“y/n—”

“what did they do to me?”

you’re sobbing now. ugly. shaking. the pain is everywhere and nowhere.

and that’s when he sees it. your hands are bleeding from the thorns too. you tried to tear yourself apart.

he kneels. he doesn’t touch you, but his voice cracks when he says, “i didn’t know.”

did that eat idk

but anyway, about the thorns: they run down your spine, top to bottom. theyre metallic, delicate-looking, wtv, but fused under the skin. they’re real. purely aesthetic.

the capitol just says: “you bloomed in blood. you’re our sharpest rose.”

but you never asked to be that.

how the capitol uses it:

open-back gowns at every interview, banquet, and appearance unfortunately. cute but its disgusting. stylists coo about how stunning it is. kids in the capitol even get fake thorn implants to mimic you.

you become fashion.

they sell your pain back to you as power, but you know what it really was. a test, a first-of-its-kind procedure, pushed by a new stylist team wanting to make history.

you knew that if you’d died under the knife, they’d have found another girl. another rose. they would’ve thrown you away a long time ago.

and sometimes, you wish they did.

and with rafe? you wouldn’t let him touch your back for weeks. when you finally do, it’s in the quiet. maybe in bed. maybe in the dark idk.

he probably kisses each thorn like a prayer. like an apology. like he’s saying, you’re still mine.

and your rage builds over time, surely!! maybe you smile in interviews and twirl in gowns, but you know what they did.

the pain is constant. you sleep on your side or your stomach because your back throbs.

stylists would numb it before events, but after? you’re left with bruises from corsets meant to “frame the roses.” it’s not a body anymore. it’s a billboard.

and maybe one day, years later, you’re asked by some capitol child on a talk show, like, “did it hurt?”

and you’ll say nothing for a second, then, smile sweetly and lean in close, “only when i realized it would never stop.”

rafe’s trauma / trafficking:

rafe’s image is like a knight, a protector. and one night after a victory event, a high-ranking capitol sponsor requests him. snow doesn’t ask. he just sends peacekeepers.

rafe goes. he comes back quiet. the next morning, the sponsor is found dead. oh no!! wonder who couldve killed him. the capitol covers it up, says it was a heart attack.

snow knows the truth, and instead of punishing him publicly, he threatens you. so rafe agrees to be used again. once. just once.

when he returns, you’re waiting in the hallway. you don’t say a word. like i said, he throws up, and then you two never talk about it again.

TIMELINE

actually ok i looked over what games are open, maybe ill have you win the 68th tbh at 17 and 18 yrs old. by the time the 75th comes around, youll be about 24 and 25 ish.

so you’re older than katniss and peeta by a few years, established capitol darlings obvi, and in the 75th, youre reaped again as former victors.

katniss and peeta threaten everything snow built with you and rafe. i imagine like this scene where you probably see them and glare. not out of hate, but fear. youre watching yourself all over again. you know what’s coming basically.

katniss sees it, probably thinks you hate her. maybe she thinks youre jealous because your situations are so similar, but later revealed in private to her that you dont hate her, youre just worried for her.

IN THE QUARTER QUELL

everyone wants to ally with you two. careers, nerds, even past enemies. youre terrifying, but it’s earned. your games were legendary.

you and rafe keep up appearances, but are quietly rebellious!! you show it in small ways. not anything noticeable for obvious reasons, but rafe probably does it more than you do, ironically.

like i feel like he’d refuse to speak at certain stops. people think he’s shy, but he’s not. he’s silent because he won’t lie. and he never lets them film him touching your back.

the capitol used to love when he would kiss your shoulders, brushing a hand down the thorns. but in public? his hand never goes there. when asked why, he says, “i’m not proud of what they did to her.”

but you guys help katniss and peeta when you can.

you two have just always and will always use the capitol’s own image of you as a shield for as long as you have to. whatever it takes.

@nicholaschavezslut69 @iissza @snowtargaryen @yootvi @ariiwritess @spideysimpossiblegirl @skyslowalking @adribarbie @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @0-tatiana-0 @beebeerockknot @rafestar @drewstarkeyzwhore @drewsephrry @annaconscience @writtenbyhollywood @yourtypicalteenagegirl @daisydark @v4mpscrms @issahruiz @ilovefictionallmenn @derpjungkook @vanessa-rafesgirl @sunny1616 @alphabetically-deranged @nrmlgirl @supercxnt @xoxosblogsblog @rafegetinmybed LOL

[ch33z3grits]

Crimson Obsessions | A Terry Richmond Vampire Series

pairing: Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond x Justine Skye as Camille DeWaterson

summary: The usually reserved and responsible Camille DeWaterson celebrates her sister's final moments as a free woman in the streets of New Orleans . After stumbling into a club that promised temptation and decadence, she’s drawn into the clutches of a true predator who wants more than a simple dance. Terry Richmond, a vampire with unimaginable power and connections, has used his club to draw in unsuspecting victims for decades. But when he gazes upon Camille DeWaterson, an obsession immediately begins. And he doesn’t want to just feed and fuck. He desires something much more sacred and permanent.

warnings: 18+, dark romance, obsessiveness/possessiveness, mentions of drugs (weed) and alcohol, intoxication, mentions of sexual acts, graphic violence, AAVE, light smut? (dry humping)

word count: 7,258

glossary:

Indulgences: human beings that vampires deem romantically and sexually desirable

The Veil: the dark magic that enhances supernaturals’ ability to manipulate the human world

Ambrosia: an aphrodisiac and euphoric substance that makes humans more open to the propositions of supernaturals

Camille's song: Drugs-UPSAHL | Terry's song: She-Tyler, The Creator

Pt. One

Camille

Camille DeWaterson was beginning to have doubts about letting loose for her sister’s bachelorette party. As she looked at the lacy outfit her sister demanded she wear, Camille inwardly groaned, thinking that nothing good would come from tonight. Just as Camille was about to step away from the full length mirror, her sister came behind her and looked at her through the mirror with big, drunken puppy dog eyes.

“Pleaseeee, CamCam,” Chloe DeWaterson slurred, snaking her arms around her sister’s waist. “Remember, you promised me.” Camille sighed. She did promise her sister that she would leave her responsible, goodie-two-shoes nature in Houston so she could fully enjoy the revelry of their seven days in New Orleans. For the first two days, she had been able to unwind during the spa trip, the wine tasting, and the afternoon tea. But as the girls’ night approached, her relaxed attitude began to fade.

As the eldest daughter of the DeWaterson family, Camille was raised with one clear expectation: perfection. Her father drilled into her the importance of a flawless social image, and to earn his approval, she shaped her life around his vision of what was best for her. As a top student at her prestigious boarding school in Virginia, Camille had secretly longed to attend the charter school back in her Georgia hometown. She enrolled at the University of Texas to be closer to the boy her father had chosen as her future husband, despite begging him for permission to attend Spelman. Camille dutifully attended social events alongside other women, all of them under pressure to climb the social ladder—though those gatherings often left her with little time for the friends who truly understood her. Since she could remember, Camille had been striving to uphold her Black American Princess image, a role she knew all too well but one that often left her feeling unfulfilled.

In contrast, her sister Chloe was constantly rebelling. She dropped out of Dartmouth to pursue fashion school in New York City, ran off to Los Angeles to live with her ex-boyfriend, and once stripped naked and leapt into a fountain at a charity event their mother had organized. Chloe embodied the essence of a free spirit, her laissez-faire attitude both something Camille admired and envied. Yet, despite her rebelliousness, Chloe still allowed their father to shape the most important aspects of her life—including her marriage. In an effort to refine her image, Colin DeWaterson Sr. orchestrated his daughter’s marriage to Simon Chazal, a longtime family friend. He argued it would offer Chloe the stability she needed, while also providing him the coveted connection to a wealthy Creole family—something he’d been angling for since moving the family to New Orleans when Camille was a sophomore in high school.

Although Chloe fussed for months about the arrangement, she eventually agreed once Simon voiced his true feelings for her. Chloe didn’t feel the same romantically, but she deeply cared for the man who was one of her closest childhood friends. She knew he would never hurt her, and he always supported her creative outlets. Besides, denying the union would put Chloe’s inheritance in jeopardy. And even though she was doing more than fine financially with her clothing line and YouTube channel, she had grown accustomed to a lifestyle that only a DeWaterson fortune could support.

So, she was getting married in two days to a man she didn’t love in the middle of her 20s. Although she had accepted her fate, she wasn’t going down without a fight. Chloe was determined to have a bachelorette party that she would never forget.

Full of decadence, empty of decorum.

And to make that happen, she made her good girl older sister promise to do everything she said. Which is why Camille was wearing a racy black catsuit that could double as a mosquito net.

“You look sooooo sexy, CamCam,” her sister continued, rubbing her cheek on Camille’s shoulder. Camille’s face grew hot as she stared at her reflection. She couldn’t deny that she looked like she had stepped out of a man’s fantasy. But how could she focus on the group’s wellbeing and make sure no one wandered off if she was constantly getting approached, which her outfit would no doubt cause. She looked around the room at the group of women who ranged in age from 24 to 27, carelessly pouring dark liquors down their throats and passing a perfectly rolled blunt between each other. As the 29 year-old, Camille felt compelled to be the protective, sober one for the night. The mom.

As if reading her mind, Chloe spun Camille around to face her. “Cam, I’m serious. You never get the chance to let go. Please just be tonight. We’re all grown. We’re not your responsibility.” Before Camille could protest, the rest of the bridal party chimed in with a variety of agreements, the loudest of which came from Camille’s best friend, Kali.

“Cammie baby, pleaseeeee throw that good girl shit out of the window. We love you for it, but it’s time for a break, sweetheart,” she exclaimed, passing her a shot of Don Julio. Camille took the small glass, feeling the weight of the expectant eyes watching her. Fuck it. When was the last time she was able to get drunk with her girls? In her picture perfect life, these opportunities didn’t come around often. So Camille took a deep breath and downed the shot, leading to an echo of cheers from the rest of the women in the room. Kali proceeded to pour chaser in her mouth as Chloe giggled in her ear. “Who knows, maybe you’ll meet a big, strong man you can ride. All. Night. Long.” Camille chuckled, playfully nudging her sister. She held up her left hand and shoved the heavy engagement ring in her sister’s face. “I’m pretty sure this’ll keep all the big, strong men away from me,” she fired back.

Chloe grinned, showing off an equally impressive engagement ring. “Well I guess I have to take this off because there’s no way I’m not getting any dick tonight.” Camille gasped while her sister just laughed, pulling her out of the room, the group making their way to their Uber Black.

Three hours later, Camille drunkenly stumbled through the streets with her friends, carefree and lost in the thrill of the night. After three daiquiris and four shots, she couldn't have cared less about anything beyond the present moment. Bouncing in and out of bars and clubs, she felt like she was on cloud nine, and there was no part of her that wanted to come down anytime soon.

“Oooooo, let’s go there next!” Chloe exclaimed, pointing to a building with traditional New Orleans architecture draped in Spanish moss. At first glance, the building itself looked unassuming. But the red lights pouring through the windows and entrances hinted that it was a club. And the line of people that snaked around the block hinted that it was a really popular club. One that they couldn’t possibly pass up. Chloe and her entourage headed towards the building. But the closer Camille got, the more something felt… off. An undeniable pull, a magnetic force drawing her toward the building. She didn’t mind it, not really; she was all for making a great night even better. But the strange sensation sent a shiver down her spine, heightening her senses and making her more alert than she’d been all evening. She tried to slow her steps, to pause for a moment to gather her thoughts, but her legs moved on their own, carrying her forward like she was being guided by some invisible hand, trailing behind her sister.

Three bouncers casually stood at the entrance, ignoring the pleas and bribes of the people at the front of the line. But their heads snapped towards them when Chloe approached.

“Excuse me,” Chloe started, turning on her signature innocent and coy act. “We don’t want to be unfair to everyone who’s been waiting, but do we have to stand in such a long line?” Chloe batted her lashes up at them, smoothing her hand over her white ‘Bride’ sash. The one closest to her leaned forward with a smirk, causing a soft gasp to ripple through the entire group.

He was beyond gorgeous. Deep dark skin, sparkling white teeth, a full beard, and expensive gold jewelry. Camille knew that her sister probably experienced love at first sight.

“A lady as pretty you should never have to wait for anything, and neither should your friends,” his Southern drawl rang through the air as he stared into Chloe’s soul. “But we got rules here, baby girl.”

Chloe visibly shuddered, stepping closer to the Adonis. “What do I– I-I mean, what do we have to do to get around these rules?” Chloe panted. The bouncer exchanged a look with the two others, who watched the group intensely… almost hungrily. His eyes shifted back to Chloe’s, glinting with something mischievous. “Tariq, you got any more of them special wristbands?” The bouncer on the far left pulled a set of wristbands from his pocket. They were such a bright red, they seemed to glow in the dark. He pulled a small bundle from his pocket and handed over seven. The lead bouncer looked back at all of them, his lips turning up to show off his perfect teeth. “Now I can get y’all in here right now with these wristbands, but y’all gotta understand that they come with a lot of responsibility. These are only for the ladies that can be the life of the party. Can y’all promise that?” The women nodded eagerly, but Camille’s nod carried some hesitation. The bouncer noticed, making a mental note that he would relay to his friends who were waiting inside.

“Anything for you, daddy,” Kali said, earning a sharp glare from Chloe. All three of the bouncers laughed at Kali's bold comment. “Well since that was such a convincing yes, all I need to see is some ID and y’all can go ahead. Be sure to put them wristbands on though… wouldn’t want to miss out on free drinks and plenty of company.”

The group squealed, practically throwing their driver’s licenses at the three men. They ignored the groans of protest from the people still waiting in line as they put on the red bands. Chloe excitedly moved towards the front door, but was stopped by a strong hand softly grabbing her arm. “One more thing,” the fine ass bouncer stated coolly.

“Yea, sure. Anything…” Chloe let out in a breathy tone. The man gave her a wicked smile. “Save me a dance, baby girl.” Chloe practically turned into a puddle. A shy, smiley puddle. “Yes, sir.” Chloe giggled softly, her gaze lingering on his. That was Camille’s cue to separate the two. She could see it in her sister’s eyes. She was five seconds away from letting that man bend her over in front of everyone. And she just couldn’t let something that scandalous happen on her watch.

The group descended down a wide, dimly lit staircase, its shadowy corners tightening around Camille’s nerves. But as they stepped into the heart of the club, her breath caught in her throat. The scene that unfolded before her was nothing short of electrifying. Red lights bathed the room in a seductive glow, casting sharp contrasts against the sleek black couches and the sea of gyrating bodies that seemed to go on for forever. Couples grinded against each other, lost in the pulse of the music, while women danced on every available surface, adding to the wild, carefree atmosphere. Bottle girls weaved through the crowd, effortlessly balancing trays of shots, bottles, and sparklers, contributing to the chaotic glamour of it all. The music throbbed through the air and vibrated through the walls and floor. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, and Camille knew she'd have to shout just to make herself heard. “Damn, we should’ve started here first,” Kali yelled, doing a 360 to get a full view of the place. Camille nodded, awe slowly replacing her unease.

Suddenly, a stunning bottle girl, who seemed to appear out of thin air, stood in front of the group with a tray full of shots. “Ladies, welcome to Crimson, and thank you for being our very special guests,” she spoke, momentarily glancing at their wristbands. “Can I interest you all in free ambrosia shots?” Something was off about her smile. It seemed too… eager. The alarm bells returned for Camille. Just as she was about to politely decline and guide the group to a more tame section of the club, Kali reached out and grabbed one. She downed it before Camille could object.

“Damn, this is good as fuck! You can’t even taste anything, it’s like juice!” She gave the rest of the bridal party an encouraging smile, before turning her attention back to the smirking bottle girl. “Can I get, like, two more of those?” She asked, already reaching for the tray again. The bottle girl smiled brightly. “Absolutely! And feel free to put any empty glasses back on the tray.”

Camille noticed the way she emphasized empty as the rest of the women reached for their own shot. Chloe threw her head back in a swift motion, a shocked look passing across her face. “There’s no way there’s alcohol in these,” she giggled, placing the empty shot glass on the tray and picking up another one. “Here, Camille, try one!”

Camille almost protested, her instincts screaming to back away. The vibe of the place had her on edge, and she didn’t trust the girl handing out free shots, her smile too wide, too mischievous. But then she remembered her promise to Chloe—and she couldn’t let her down. Camille took the shot from Chloe’s hand and threw it back, hoping the act would be enough to satisfy the bottle girl and move them along. But as the liquid burned its way down, something unexpected happened. The sweet strawberry and honey taste lingered and an insatiable craving for more swept over her. Without a second thought, she grabbed the last shot on the tray and sipped it greedily, the flavors dancing on her tongue. Within moments, a wave of euphoria crashed over her, sweeping away any remaining caution. Like a freight train, the carefree attitude she'd left behind the moment she stepped into Crimson hit her again—but this time, it wasn’t just cloud nine. Instead, she soared to cloud one hundred. Whatever she just drank was far beyond ordinary alcohol. But in that instant, Camille couldn’t have cared less. The rush, the high, it was too intoxicating to question. She was going to chase it, as far and as fast as it would take her.

The cackling of her friends began to fade as a new song caught her attention. It was sultry and fast-paced, and it beckoned her to the dance floor. Her legs carried her to the center of the club, directly under its beaming red lights, giving the crowds in the balcony levels a perfect view of her. And she let herself get carried away by the music. She didn’t know how long she danced for. She just knew that her waist, her ass, and her legs moved to everything that poured out of the speakers. She felt like a butterfly flying freely, untethered. Until two large hands gripped her waist, pulling her back into a broad, warm chest and a thick, long, twitching bulge.

Terry

Terry spotted her as soon as she entered his establishment, his dick immediately standing at attention. A lace-clad goddess who decided to grace the venue with her presence. Although she was leading a group of gorgeous women, her beauty outshone them all—no contest. Not even the shorter one who shared her skin tone and some of her features that she pulled along with her. Sisters, Terry concluded. Although the smaller one, clearly a bride-to-be, was meant to be the star—draped in a form-fitting white dress, crowned with a glittering tiara and veil, Terry’s eyes could only focus on the woman guiding her through the sea of people. He leaned forward in his seat on the fourth-level balcony, subtly tapping the two women on his lap to signal for them to move. They pouted and muttered as they reluctantly stood, but Terry’s attention remained fixed, unaware of their protests. His focus was entirely on the woman below, and he couldn’t look away.

“Boss, we got a few more Indulgences coming in right now. The best group of the night. But the one in the lace might be a problem. I think she can kinda see through The Veil.”

Terry didn’t bother to respond. There was always one human who felt a little more wary when they approached Crimson, the city’s most exclusive club and a hedonistic sanctuary for the wealthiest vampires in the country. It wasn’t uncommon for humans to be drawn to the club’s magnetic pull, an irresistible force that lured them in without them even knowing why. Most would fall victim to the allure, standing in outrageously long lines for the mere chance to step inside. But then there were the others—those with a natural wariness, a sharp intuition that hinted at the dark magic just beneath the surface. They could sense something off, something they couldn’t quite put their finger on, but it was enough to make them hesitate.

In those rare cases, Terry knew exactly what to do. If they were enticing enough for his clients, he made sure they got through the door and stayed for as long as he needed them to. After getting the heads-up from Jabari, Terry had already made his move. Amber, one of his most trusted bottle girls who frequently quenched his thirsts, was dispatched with a tray of ambrosia shots, ready to meet the group of women and pull them deeper into the club’s intoxicating web. A simple push, a little encouragement.

Terry observed as the group warily watched Amber. The first one to accept her offer was a thick, lighter woman with a bob who seemed to be full of personality. One by one, they consumed the golden liquid and he watched them all fall victim to the euphoric feeling that ambrosia brings about. The beauty who caught his eye was the last one to drink after some convincing from the soon-to-be bride. She gave her a weak smile and tossed it back, momentarily exposing her slender neck. Time seemed to slow as she gulped down the liquid, her tongue absentmindedly licking the remainder from her perfectly glossed lips. Terry groaned, imagining those same glossed lips wrapped around his length, leaving stains around his dick as she gagged around him. Fat tears spilling from her big, pretty eyes as he used a fistful of her hair to keep her in place and fuck her throat.

As his latest fixation reached for another shot, this time with enthusiasm, he mentally expressed satisfaction in Jabari’s picks for the night. The whole group exceeded the standards of what an Indulgence should be. From the corner of his eyes, he could see a few of his clients watching the group, their bright red wristbands giving them the greenlight to approach them. As the best supernatural sanctuary in the country, Terry had a reputation he had to maintain. And that included keeping a steady stream of the best Indulgences walking through the doors of Crimson.

The practice of supplying Indulgences had evolved quite a bit since Terry turned hundreds of years ago. In the old days, Indulgences, the breathtaking humans that were deemed desirable enough to feed from and fuck, were a rarity. The lack of modern technology and medical care led to most humans being sickly and in a constant state of survival. Therefore, Indulgences were limited, and most were often fought over or accidentally killed. But as the standard of living increased, they became more plentiful. Vampires noticed and began to invest heavily in the wellbeing of humans. Better farming techniques, improved access to education, innovations in science and technology. All of these things were investments vampires were willing to make so their precious humans would become better off. Now, it’s gotten to the point that Indulgences could be found anywhere. But they couldn’t be approached anywhere. Humans, especially women, were particularly cautious. They often denied the company of vampires in ordinary settings, and their denials were respected under supernatural law. So vampires like Terry had to create spaces that connected Indulgences with vampires, lowered their inhibitions, and motivated them to freely offer their veins, their bodies, and their hearts.

Crimson had been known for the best Indulgences since the 1940s and tonight, Jabari ensured that the reputation continued. Terry made a mental note to reward Jabari for his good judgment. His eyes continued to follow the pretty little thing as she made her way to the dance floor, her barriers lowering with every step she took. Once she got to the center of the club, Terry knew that all supernatural eyes were on her, so he spoke telepathically.

Mine.

One word was all it took, and instantly, everyone knew she was off-limits. Terry was more than just a club co-owner. He was a king in his own right, ruling an empire of power, wealth, and influence that stretched far beyond Crimson’s doors. Decades older than any vampire in the room, his presence commanded a respect that no one dared to question. He was one of the first to utilize The Veil, the arcane system of magic that allowed supernaturals to bend the mortal world to their will. Over the course of his long life, he had slaughtered countless creatures—vampires, goblins, lycans—all without a flicker of hesitation. He was a monster in the truest sense of the word, and only a fool would dare to challenge him.

So, as his clients swarmed the other women eagerly, Terry’s word hung in the air like an impenetrable shield. She remained untouched and unbothered, and no one would dare lay a finger on her.

As the mystery woman swayed seductively to the beat, Terry began his descent to the ground level of Crimson. Humans and supernaturals alike scurried out of his way as he stalked his unsuspecting prey. Growing closer to her, he watched as she threw her arms above her head, flaunting her red wristband. He smirked, knowing she had no idea what was in store for her. He stopped behind her, taking the time to appreciate her body and inhale her scent. Her Coke bottle shape was barely covered by the black lace outfit that showed off her black thong. Intoxicating notes of vanilla, jasmine, and lavender fluttered around her, making his mouth water.

Terry gripped her waist firmly, tugging her back into his chest and her ass into his hard on, causing her to gasp softly. She paused her sexy little whining to look at Terry, craning her neck to get a good view of his 6’3 frame. He smirked as her jaw dropped as she examined his face. Still in a euphoric haze, her eyes began to swirl with lust, awe, and need. Terry grinned down at her, wrapping his arms around her even tighter. She whimpered lightly, rubbing her ass against his print, causing a deep rumbling in his chest. He leaned down, placing his mouth next to her ear. “What’d you stop for, princess? You were giving me such a nice show,” he purred, licking the shell of her ear. A moan passed her pretty ass lips and her head lolled to the side, giving Terry full access to her neck. He chuckled, watching the light thump of her jugular under her skin.

“Come on, baby girl,” he groaned, tracing the major vein with his tongue. “I came all the way downstairs to dance with you, don’t stop now.” She giggled sweetly, looking back at him with a naughty glint in her eye. Then, she began to work her magic. Bending over and placing her hands on her thighs, she expertly rolled her hips to the music, grinding her plump ass further into his dick. Terry bit his lip at the sight, matching her sensual movements, the world disappearing around them. To Terry, it was only him and her left in existence. Twisting, grinding, and rolling against each other. As the song came to an end, she rose to lean back against him, peering at him over her shoulder. Terry decided that he let her have enough fun taking the lead. He had to show her he was a man of control. He spun her around to face him, pulling her dangerously close to him.

She gulped as he pressed the entirety of his covered length against her torso. Gripping her ass, he captured her mouth in a dominating kiss.

Camille

Camille’s breath hitched as the unreal stranger placed a heated kiss against her lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth. If she were sober, she wouldn’t believe that she was making out with a random man whose name she didn’t even know. Especially a random man that looked like him. His broad, muscular frame loomed over her effortlessly, even with the four-inch heels adding height to her 5'7" stature. Dressed in sleek black slacks and a casual sweater, his ensemble was effortlessly cool, paired with two gold chains that gave him a smooth, 90s vibe. The combination of his honey-brown skin and understated wealth gave him an undeniable magnetism. The sweet, woody scent of his cologne washed over her senses, an intoxicating blend that mirrored the raw masculinity oozing from him. His dark hair was pulled back into neat cornrows, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the meticulously groomed facial hair that framed it. His full, luscious lips curled into a smile—slow, deliberate, and full of promise. And then there were his eyes. Those eyes. They were the kind that could pull you deeper under his spell with every glance. They promised nothing but a night fulfilling her most carnal desires.

A man this handsome could only be the devil.

His hands moved from her ass to her thighs as he effortlessly picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist, their kiss never breaking. His tongue mercilessly sucked on hers, making her breathless and delirious. Camille tried her best to keep up with the man but he was insatiable. His lips skillfully moved over hers, making her eyes droop and heat pool in her most intimate areas. There was nothing she could do but submit to him and his passion. So she wrapped her arms around his neck and let him lead the head-spinning exchange, which pulled the most lewd sounds from the back of her throat. He shifted her slightly in his arms, making his dick rub directly against her throbbing clit. “Fuck,” she yelped, throwing her head back at the burst of pleasure the movement gave her. The stranger didn’t stop his onslaught of kisses, his mouth nipping and sucking at her jaw, her neck, and her collarbone, continuing to grind his pelvis into hers. Camille sucked in a sharp breath, feeling a delicious tension build in her pussy. The man’s hands gripped further into her flesh and he chuckled in her ear. “If you keep making those pretty little sounds, I’m gonna make you nut on this dick all fucking night,” he growled before he shoved his tongue back into her mouth. His raunchy promise and dominating tongue sent Camille toppling over the edge. With a pathetic, needy moan into his mouth, she shuddered in his arms, a blinding orgasm rippling through her body.

He pulled away from her, watching as she convulsed in his arms. His eyes, which seemed to shift between steel blue and hazel green, stared directly into her soul, making another pitiful moan pass through her lips. As she slowly descended from her high, their gazes locked, their breath heavy and unsteady. In that moment, something passed between them. Something unspoken, something more profound than lust or two horny bodies grinding on a dancefloor. It was an electric undercurrent, too elusive to define, but too powerful to ignore. Was it tenderness? Devotion? Whatever it was, Camille felt it course through her like wildfire, a quiet intensity that seemed to vibrate in the air around them. And from the heat in his eyes, she knew he felt it too. That look, their connection—intense, undeniable—was all it took to jolt her back to reality.

This has gone way too far, Camille thought. She shook her head lightly, trying to break herself out of the trance she was under. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered to the gorgeous man she was clinging to. His eyebrows furrowed, his grip tightening as she attempted to get out of his hold.

“Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?” His deep, rich voice asked her sincerely and she blinked slowly as her pussy throbbed, begging to be stuffed by the hard on that was still pressed into her crotch. Fuck, this was so wrong. She was a taken woman. “No, no you didn’t do anything wrong,” she smiled down at him shyly. “It’s just that… I-I shouldn’t have done this and I don’t want it to go too far.” He laughed.

“We’re grown, baby girl. What happens beyond this stays between us.” He stated, placing an open-mouthed kiss on her jaw, making her squirm against his bulge.

“That’s the thing,” she sighed, raising her left hand to display her ring. “An engaged woman shouldn’t have even let it get to this point.” The stranger’s hypnotizing eyes moved from hers to the band around her left ring finger, which he stared at for a second. Disappointment, and another feeling that she couldn’t place, flickered across his expression. Then his eyes shifted back to hers and he nodded in understanding, gingerly placing her back on her feet. He kept a hand on her waist, his confident smile returning. “Thanks for the dance, Ms…” his voice trailed off expectantly. Camille opened her mouth to respond, but was swiftly interrupted by her best friend’s yelling.

“Cam! Cam! Come on, we gotta go! Some weirdo tried to like, I don't know, eat Chloe!” Kali yelled frantically, tugging Camille. “What!? What are you talking about? Where is she?!” Camille ran behind Kali, completely abandoning her momentary lover. She and Kali ripped through the crowded dance floor and rushed to a set of stairs that led to the second story of the club. Chloe sat slumped against the banister, sobbing into her hands as the rest of the group and the bouncer from earlier tried to console her. “Chloe, baby are you okay?” Camille’s little sister shot up at the sound of her voice, throwing herself into her arms.

“Oh Cammie, it was awful,” she sobbed as Camille held her. “Some guy and I were dancing but he wanted me to do coke with him so I tried to get away from him. But then he started trying to fucking bite me and-and–” Chloe sobbed harder. Camille turned to the bouncer. “Where is he? Did he get away?” There’s no way the club would let him get away with something like that, right?

“No ma’am, we’ve got him in custody upstairs. He won’t be able to hurt anybody else.” He reassured Camille, but his eyes remained on Chloe.

“Cammie, I don’t want to stay here if he’s still here,” Chloe hiccuped, holding onto her sister tighter. Camille stroked her cheek, guilt consuming her. She should’ve stayed with her sister. She never should’ve wandered off! She wouldn’t have gotten hurt if she wasn’t getting tongued down by a man she just met.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to stay here any longer,” she sighed, kissing her sister's forehead. The fun, tipsy, and carefree Camille was gone. The rigid and responsible Camille returned as she ordered the rest of the bridal party to make their way to the entrance.

“Is everything alright over here?” The smooth, deep voice made Camille shiver. She knew who it belonged to immediately, but she refused to face him, embarrassed of how she behaved a few moments ago. He must've followed her when she ran with Kali. She could feel the heat rolling off of him, letting her know that he stood dangerously close to her. But she couldn’t focus on the Casanova that made her cum from simply grinding and kissing. She needed to focus on her sister.

“A patron tried to fee– bite one of the ladies in this group, boss. I rushed to help her once I heard screams. We got him upstairs,” the bouncer replied hurriedly, his eyes trained on the man behind Camille. He grunted in response.

“Ladies, I apologize for this encounter. Crimson takes great pride in vetting its patrons and it's unacceptable that a character like this slipped past us. He will be taken care of,” her mystery man spoke with authority. Camille glanced at him in shock as she rocked her sister, who was now only sniffling. Did he own this place? Who really was the man she dry fucked danced with tonight?

He gazed back at her for a moment, but turned his attention back to Chloe’s knight in shining armor. “Jabari, please escort these ladies out and ensure that we get them the best transportation back to their accommodations.” Jabari nodded, helping them get their bearings. As Camille prepared to turn on her heel, soft, thick lips quickly pressed against her cheek. “Get home safe.” The mystery man gave her one final glance before swiftly climbing the stairs. She stared after him, her heart, and her pussy, aching from the fact that she would never see him again.

Camille felt so disappointed in herself as Jabari ushered them into a sleek, black Cadillac Escalade. Her sister’s night was ruined because she slipped up and left her alone. She should’ve never let her guard down. She should’ve never taken those shots. And she definitely shouldn’t have given that man a dance. Because that’s all she could think about.

How her body molded into his. How she responded to his touch. How he gazed into her eyes. How wet she got for him. And that orgasm… she couldn’t even remember having one that good before… especially not with her fiancé. It felt as if she had found her soulmate, only to be torn away from him, her chest aching with every passing second.

Camille shook her head, a desperate attempt to clear her thoughts. She shouldn’t be thinking like this. Not with her sister’s head in her lap as their driver pulled off towards their hotel. Kali and the rest of the girls chattered quietly as Camille stroked her sister’s hair. Hopefully the one hour at Crimson didn’t overshadow the entire night for her.

Camille sighed and leaned her head against her seat’s window. I just need to get back to Houston, she thought. And then I’ll be able to forget about him and put this night behind me.

Terry

Terry’s jaw clenched as he peered out of the window, watching Jabari get the group of women into the luxury SUV. Jabari closed the front passenger door as the last one put on her seatbelt. He then jogged to the driver’s side and briefly spoke to the chauffeur. After a tap on the hood, the driver sped off in the direction of Bourbon Street. Terry stepped away from the window and turned to look at the center of the room. A man dangled from a meat hook attached to the tall ceiling, thrashing in the chains used to restrain him. Terry’s blood boiled as he watched him struggle, muffled pleas trying to pass the gag in his mouth. His face was barely recognizable, but Terry knew it was Justin Grey. The 20-something year-old son of some Hollywood executive who was turned six months ago. Terry knew he was too young and immature to behave himself around Indulgences. But his business partners thought otherwise. Justin’s $5,000,000 donation was just too enticing to pass up.

Both of Justin’s eyes were nearly swollen shut. Bruises bloomed across his face and neck. His nose was obviously broken. A gash on his cheek leaked blood onto the floor. Although the man’s vampire status would’ve dulled the pain of a human’s attempt to hurt him, the ass whooping he got from his fellow supernaturals had him writhing in agony.

Terry shook his head as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. If it wasn’t for this motherfucker, he would be in one of the private rooms upstairs with his recent dance partner, letting her ride his face and his dick until the sun rose. But no. He had to deal with this bullshit. Bullshit that ran seven perfect Indulgences out of his club. It wasn’t the end of the world, his clients would still be satisfied. There were about fifty men and women walking around Crimson with the red wristbands. Only fifteen clients were present today, so they had plenty to choose from. But he could tell that the bachelorette party was a fan favorite, since most of his clients eagerly joined to beat the man who ran them off. They circled Justin’s upside down form, waiting for Terry to give them the greenlight to finish him off.

Terry sipped the dark liquor slowly, savoring the burn in the back of his throat. He walked over to Justin and crouched down near his face. Justin took labored breaths, flinching as Terry’s hand reached for the gag in his mouth. In one fluid motion, Terry yanked the rag out of mouth, sending blood and teeth scattering across the floor. Justin cried out. Terry just stared, giving him a sarcastic smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Friends, guests…,” Terry started as he slowly rose to his feet. “What is the single most important rule when handling Indulg–”

“Terry, man come on. I-I didn’t… I j-just got a little carried awa–” Justin began to beg.

“Shut. The Fuck. Up,” Terry gritted. No one moved, no one dared to reply, so Terry began again. “Indulgences should never… ever… be forced to do anything. No matter what. It is our responsibility to convince. To seduce. Our interactions with humans, especially Indulgences, are meant to be mutualistic. We give as much as we take. If we go around abusing them and acting entitled, we’ll eventually lose access to them. And if we lose access to them, our chances of survival get real fucking slim.”

Terry took another slow sip of whiskey, his expression calm, but his words laced with venom. Contrary to popular folklore, vampires didn’t loathe humans, they thrived on them. Humans were their life force, their source of entertainment, their companions in an otherwise meaningless existence. They brought color to the gray monotony of their extended lifetimes. Disruptions to this delicate, symbiotic bond were rare, but when they happened, they were never taken lightly. Terry and other vampires had spent centuries cultivating these relationships, and this small transgression was a threat to that hard-won balance. What made it worse was that the woman who had captured his heart was entangled in this mess. But despite the simmering rage beneath his calm exterior, he refused to let this minor setback derail his evening. He was still going to put someone through a mattress tonight, so he was going to make this quick.

Jabari walked into the room, nodding towards Terry to confirm that the women were heading back towards their hotel. He nodded back, taking a final sip of whiskey before placing the glass on a nearby surface.

“Everyone, please don’t let the foolish actions of one ruin your night. When you’re ready, return to the main area and have your fun,” Terry spoke diplomatically. Then he turned his attention to Jabari, who glared menacingly at Justin.

“Jabari,” Terry called calmly. Jabari’s eyes snapped in his direction.

“You were interested in the girl that Justin attacked, yes?” Jabari simply nodded. Terry hummed in response. “Will you do the honors and kill him? Try not to be too loud, we don’t want to disturb the rest of the club.”

Jabari grinned, shifting into his supernatural form as he stalked toward Justin.

“No, NO! Terry please, I-I-I learned my lesson! It won’t happen again!” Justin cried out as Jabari’s eyes shifted to a deep red, his canines elongating and his nails sharpening.

Terry drowned out Justin’s screams as Jabari's claws pierced his flesh, ripping him apart. He knew Jabari would finish the job right, so he made his way towards the door without looking back, pulling his business phone out of his pocket. Now that the situation was handled, his mind could return to more pressing matters. The lovely little vixen who put him under her spell in less than twenty minutes. He swiped through the electronic records that another bouncer, Tariq, sent him. They displayed copies of all of the driver’s licenses that were scanned that night. He searched through dozens of photos before he landed on one that made his heart skip a beat.

Camille DeWaterson.

04/26/1995.

Houston, Texas.

Each passing second that Terry’s eyes lingered on the photo solidified his decision. The decision he made when she had rushed off to tend to her sister now felt inevitable—he was going to pursue her with everything he had. The moment they shared on the dancefloor wasn’t just a fleeting connection; it was raw, too real to dismiss. When she had looked at him, there had been something in her gaze, something that bordered on reverence. As if he had become her anchor in a world full of uncertainty. He couldn’t shake the intensity of it, the desire to see that look again, to make her feel that way once more. And the way she came undone in his arms? It was so fucking erotic. If she writhed against him like that just from some kissing and touching, how would she act underneath him as he stretched her out. Would she scream his name? Would she beg him to let her cum? Would she wet up his sheets? He was determined to find out. And once he did, he would never let her go.

Besides, she obviously needed to be saved from her engagement. No properly satisfied woman would have acted how she did. It was practically a cry for help. A bat signal that said she needed someone to take care of her body, mind, and soul. And Terry knew he would be the best person to do so. Not the lame ass nigga she was with now.

He took a screenshot of the driver’s license and tucked the phone back into his pocket. Tomorrow, he would dig through the internet for everything linked to his new obsession. But right now, he needed to find some relief and bury himself in some pussy. He was still hard from the dance he got and Camille’s ID picture only made the tightening in his groin worse. He waved over Amber as she headed in his direction. Once she stood in front of him, he wordlessly threw her over his shoulder, hauling her upstairs towards the private rooms.

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

@nayaesworld @slvt4her @writingsbytee @kaylaahisthebestest @notapradagurl7 @23jammy so sorry if I missed anyone, please comment so I can add you for next week!

[jayparked]

revenge for my valentine | kim sunoo

SYNOPSIS: after you and your coworker sunoo are both dumped by your long-term partners — heeseung and karina, who then start dating each other — you’ve had enough of wallowing in self-pity. with the valentine’s day office party just around the corner, you and sunoo decide it’s time to stop feeling sorry for yourselves. instead of letting your exes steal the spotlight, you hatch a plan to make them regret the way they ended things. this valentine’s day, it’s all about having your cake and eating it too

PAIRING: coworker!kim sunoo x female reader ; ft: y/n's ex!heeseung x sunoo's ex!karina

GENRE: smut, slight angst

AU: fake dating, coworkers to ???

RATING: explicit/18+, minors dni

WORD COUNT: 12.1k (gasp snail wrote porn WITH plot)

WARNINGS: semi public sex (they get walked in on), sex at work!, protected sex, big dick sunoo!, sex without orgasming, sunoo rips your underwear, titty fondling, gross makeout sessions, lots of internal conflict

SNAIL TRAIL: just...trust me on this...pls...give it a chance...even if you don't see sunoo in a sexual way like that...just TRUST ME. either way happy valentines day to each and every one of you! if no one asked you to be their valentine, this is my formal confession to you and i'm now your honorary valentine teehee

thank you @dazzlingjaeyun for betaing for me and thank you to @sungbeams for encouraging me and listening to me complain about this for what feels like years. you both have provided me with such endless and selfless support i can't thank either of you enough. ich hab’ dich lieb

The sharp edges of the invitation threaten to prick through your skin as you grip it too tightly, fingers starting to numb from holding this position for so long. The tremble in your hands is hard to miss, your breath hitches and a sharp pain twists in your chest. Heeseung and Karina are skipping about the office, merrily handing out invitations to their fabulous Valentine's Day party they'll be throwing, oblivious to the knife they’ve just stabbed in your heart. Or maybe it was intentional with the way Karina’s fingers lingered on the envelope when she handed it to you, tongue poking past the side of her lips while she looked you up and down before trotting off. Every coworker in sight is approached with boisterous smiles and batting eyelashes from the couple, promises of a fabulous night with endless celebrations of love pouring from their lips as they excitedly rave about the details of the event.

"And we got it approved by the big man to host it here! Everyone has to be there!" Karina’s shrill customer service voice echoes throughout the padded cubicles and your eardrums. 

A groan slips past your lips before you can stop it. Normally you'd be down for office parties and festivities, you're a fun gal after all. But the idea of attending a Valentine's Day party that your ex-boyfriend is hosting with his "newer and better other half" just doesn't sound as appealing as one might think.

You desperately want to crumple the invitation in your fist and you outwardly seethe as Karina clutches onto Heeseung's chest while she leans into him with forced laughter, him naturally moving with her, chest rumbling before placing a passionate kiss on the top of her head. In a gross quirky fashion, Karina kicks up one of her feet, giggling with each second Heeseung’s lips are on her skin. 

You can’t look away.

Her stupid gorgeous skin that glows when the sun shines through the windows while your skin seems to be greying and wrinkling with each passing day. It’s an over exaggeration, of course, but the jealousy is sinking its claws deeper into your system, stomach lurching as the feeling starts to make you physically unwell.

You hate her stupid skin and her stupid effortless highlights and her stupid perfectly white teeth. The sun should burn her, not make her look like an angel descending upon this earth. Which, she totally acts like on a daily basis, sunshine or not. But you see past her act. 

All you can do is remind yourself that you are a better person than your hostile instincts and negative thoughts want you to be. There’s no point in indulging in them anyways, she’s the office’s golden girl after all.

Taking in a deep breath, you slowly exhale through your nose, lowering the invitation painstakingly slow and delicately placing it to the side of your desk. You will show no weaknesses. They will not get to you as much as they probably would have thrived to see you shrink into yourself with self loathing.

A loud huff of breath behind you breaks you from your trance, and you turn around to see your co-worker Sunoo failing at being the better person; his jaw is clenched so tightly that the muscles in his face are twitching, his invitation is in pieces scattered across his lap and desk, some bits still stuck to his clenched fists in between his fingers. His entire body reads fire-angry and pissed off, but there's something recognizable in his eyes that tells you there's more going on deep within his mind. The way his eyes shake and glisten, it’s like looking in a mirror. Seeing the pain you’re feeling reflected on someone who’s no more than a coworker, much less a stranger, ignites a new emotion in the pit of your stomach, one you can’t quite explain yet. 

Sunoo is one of the handful of coworkers you’ve worked beside for years but have never exchanged more than ten words with. He’s quiet, tends to his work, and keeps to himself – just like you do. Even when he and Karina were together he shied away from the PDA and loud declarations of public love. The few times you cared to spare a glance in their direction, it always seemed that Sunoo was uncomfortable having all eyes on him with a bright red face paired with fidgeting hands. It was enough to make anyone feel bad for the guy.

Glancing around, you make sure the coast is clear, (AKA: all the attention is still on Heeseung and Karina), and you scoot your chair across the short way to Sunoo's desk.

"Hey, Hellboy,” you whisper just loud enough for him to hear, “extinguish your flames will ya?"

Sunoo's jaw relaxes as he looks at you for a moment before turning back to the mess around him. Closing his eyes, he lets out a more tender sigh, carefully picking up each piece one by one before sprinkling them into the garbage.

"Thanks," he says weakly. "I didn't realize I was expressing myself outwardly like that. Nuts isn't it?" He forces a chuckle, shaking his head as he goes back to watching the couple of the year receive their compliments and adoration from the other office sheep.

"Completely nuts." You agree, scooching closer until your chairs touch and you’re sitting side by side, watching the show alongside him.

"She's acting like we weren't even together. Heeseung seems to be doing that to you too. It's crazy! Weren't you guys together for like three years?-"

"-Three years." You say in unison.

Sighing together, you both lean back into your chairs.

"Karina and I,” falter again, his voice quivers, your own chest tightening at his words, “we were together for four." 

The pout in his voice breaks your heart, more so than it already is. And feeling such a strong emotion for someone you barely know surprises you. In all your years with this company you’ve just found it easier to keep to yourself, even more so after your breakup with Heeseung. Why risk getting close to someone again when you’d be forced to be in the same workspace? No one promises to keep a permanent spot in your life, and it was a sentiment you were growing accustomed to. Sunoo was no exception to this rule. You’ve barely interacted. Ever. Nothing more than a simple head nod or raised coffee in acknowledgment has passed between you two. Now, you feel like you need to reach out, rub his arm comfortingly, maybe even offer to take him out to lunch where the two of you can freely be irrationally angry and bitter together. Really, it's just that if you were him, (and you basically are in this situation), you'd want someone to be there for you. Being alone in the midst of a breakup this painful is like soaking a paper cut in lemon juice.

So, stepping out of your comfort zone, you decide to do just what you'd want someone to do for you.

"Let's get lunch together," you blurt out before you’re able to mentally talk yourself out of it.

Albeit slightly confused, Sunoo smiles and kindly accepts your lunch offer. Your body finally relaxes a bit more, relieved with the promise of companionship after so long trying to force isolation on yourself.

"And then he said, 'You're a little too much to handle sometimes.' Who fucking says that!" You yell over the bustle and noise of the restaurant, voice muffled by the decent amount of food still in your mouth.

"He said that? About you?" Sunoo scoffs, throwing his fork down onto his plate and throwing his body back against the seat cushion. "You definitely don't seem like the type to be described as "too much to handle". I'm insulted on your behalf!"

"Thank! You!" You can't help but raise your voice as you throw down your fork as well, the utensil clattering against the now clean plate. "I can't believe Karina gave you such a stupid reason for dumping you. Who just says, 'We were too attached and I need to learn how to be my own person.' then goes around and is immediately in a super clingy relationship? I don't get it. Plus, in my own personal opinion, I wouldn’t have described you guys as too attached. I don’t think I even saw you guys kiss in public. Which makes this thing with Heeseung even more ridiculous!"

Expecting a fiery response, Sunoo surprises you by staying silent. His shoulders drop as he stares into his half-eaten chocolate cheesecake. The intense, angry emotions surging in your own veins quickly simmers down seeing how truly upset and defeated he looks in front of you.

"Hey," you say softly and dip your head down, trying to make eye contact, your hand naturally falling on top of one of his own, "don't worry about them. What she told you was bullshit and does not define who you are as a person. It’s clearly not the real reason she broke up with you. You seem like a great guy and she's going to have to live the rest of her life knowing she let you go." You see a faint smile finally grow on his face, making you smile in return. 

"Thanks, Y/n. I wish I was as strong as you are. I wish I could just be angry and secure with myself. But ever since she left…I don’t know. I feel like a hollow shell, like I’m just going through the motions. Everything feels foreign to me now." He sighs and leans one elbow on the table, resting his head in his hand as he breaks up pieces of his cake, not making any motions to actually eat it.

You think about what to say and how honest you want to be. You've only just really started talking with him and talking about your feelings and insecurities has never been easy for you to do. Which was exactly one of the reasons Heeseung claimed during his breakup speech.

And fuck that guy. You can be emotionally vulnerable anytime you want.

"I'm not as tough as I'm making it seem," you admit slowly, "It honestly hurts so much it feels like I can't breathe sometimes, you know? I really thought I had opened up to him, really thought I had someone who loved me truly for who I was…I thought he saw the real me. A part of me almost feels violated knowing how much he knows about me but he just walks around pretending I’m a stranger." You can't help but chuckle softly to yourself. "Don't give them the power to determine your self-worth, okay? We'll get through this together. You're stuck with me now!"

Sunoo looks up and smiles softly at you. Genuinely, you believe that you'll be able to make it through this. And it doesn't hurt having someone else here to understand what you're going through. And maybe, because of your newfound friendship, you’ll be able to get through it faster.

Finally going back to eating his cake with small, intentional bites, Sunoo thinks thoughtfully for a moment, his head tilted in a curious fashion.

"Do you think-," he starts but pauses, scrunching up his mouth to one side as he ponders over what to say. Sighing and looking down once again, he softly says, "Do you think they cheated on us?"

It's a sentence that instantly gives you chills, freezing you in place for a moment because no, you didn't think that, the thought never occurred to you in the first place. Despite how mad you were at Heeseung, he didn't seem like the type to cheat. Plus, the entire time you were being broken up with, Heeseung was throwing out everything you were doing wrong in the relationship and that alone was hard enough to wrap your brain around. Unless that was some tactic of his to deflect onto you and make you believe you were the bad guy instead of him. Now that the thought is in your head, you can't help but rethink situations you may have looked over, arguments that seemed random and sudden, and accusations that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

Like the late nights leading up to the breakup, Heeseung stepping out of the room when he got phone calls- something he never used to do before, not asking you to read his texts out loud anymore, and canceling plans with you due to all the new “extra work responsibilities” that suddenly fell into his lap. These things were out of character- yes. But you didn't think twice about it because it just seemed like something everyone did in the midst of a rough patch in a relationship. And, from the bottom of your heart, you believed anything and everything Heeseung said to you. Because what would he gain from lying and manipulating you?

Or maybe your subconscious just couldn't handle it at the time.

"She acted differently...in the end. I just wasn't sure if you knew something I didn’t."

"No," you shake your head, "the thought honestly never crossed my mind. But now that you mention it, he acted differently in the end too."

For a good, heart-bursting moment, you both sit there in silence. You're not sure what's worse: the blinding anger or the heart-wrenching poignancy.

"This is stupid!" Sunoo finally breaks the silence, his fists firmly planting onto the table as he stands, making you jump in surprise. "We didn't do anything wrong! Why are we the ones who have to be sad and cry into delicious cheesecake? They should be the ones crying into a creamy dessert feeling bad about themselves!"

You can't help but laugh. And once you start, it's hard to stop. The entire situation still doesn't feel real to you, so what else can you do except clutch at your ribs as all the air in your body is used to push out this bubbling laughter? Sunoo laughs with you, sitting back down and scooping up the remaining bites of his cheesecake.

"It really is dumb." You finally manage to choke out the words, the giggles slowly dying out between you two. "I wish there was some way to make them feel what we're feeling right now."

Mouth full of food, Sunoo offers a muddled "Isn’t revenge...ya know...bad?"

Reaching for a napkin, you pause and stare at the lines in the fabric, an idea sparking in your mind. Slowly sliding the napkin over to your new friend who accepts it gladly, patting the material along the outside of his mouth. Feeling safe and reassured in Sunoo’s presence, you decide to continue to be bold today and think out loud.

"What if we went to that Valentine's Day party they're hosting?"

Gasping on instinct, Sunoo accidentally inhales part of his cake, spiraling him into a coughing fit. "You want to what? I thought we agreed in the carride here that it would be a terrible idea to go!"

Smiling devilishly, you wait for Sunoo to notice the mischievous glint in your eyes, for him to see that your idea goes beyond just simply attending.

"What have you got planned?" He asks carefully, but there’s a spark in his eyes.

Quirking up one of your shoulders, you play with your fork, spinning the utensil slowly against the point of your finger. "Let's go...together." It was hard trying to appear so casual, mysterious, and nonchalant when all you wanted to do was shout out your idea and jump around the room like a child.

"I'm honestly such a bad guesser and I'm way too intrigued, but at the same time I'm not stupid enough to fall for the casual 'let's go together' so please tell me what you have brewing in that devilish mind of yours, Y/n, please."

Sunoo's excited impatience and flair for the dramatics will definitely make this idea of yours even more…pleasurable.

Dropping the fork, you look around the restaurant before leaning in, as if some spy could be around waiting to obtain all your secrets. Beckoning Sunoo to do the same, he follows suit, leaning towards you until you can see the tiny flakes of freckles painted across his cheekbones.

A smile blooms across your face slowly, courage finally rooting into your chest. "Okay. So, here's the plan..."

The next few days go by so fast it's been hard to fully enjoy the festivities.

And by festivities, of course you mean the fun going on between you and Sunoo.

The office has become so much more enjoyable now that Sunoo is in your life. Every day you come into work wearing one of his sports jackets, graciously draping it on the back of your chair for display after he politely pulls out your seat for you. And every day, after pushing in your chair, Sunoo leaves you a quick, yet passionate kiss on the top of your head, to which you always end up looking up at him with pure joy. 

It didn't take long for you two to become the talk of the office. 

Like a wave of wildfire, everyone began wondering just when you and Sunoo got together, if it was serious, a playful situation, just how far things have gone. You never paid much attention to office gossip before, but you never would have dreamed it was as juicy as this. Being in the spotlight was never your thing, but this was completely different. It felt different at least.This was all under your control for once, and it’s something you wouldn’t mind getting used to. 

Walking around the office with a new wave of confidence feels empowering in a way you haven’t experienced before. Seeing Heeseung's jaw drop to the floor when he sees you, clearly not registering that it was you at first, tastes even more delicious.

It's true. Along with the new relationship, you switched up your wardrobe as well. Oh, and getting a new haircut after a million years of avoiding the salon definitely gave you that extra umph that you needed. And, let’s face it, moving on after being mercilessly dumped isn’t official until you do something with your hair.

"You look..." Sunoo whistles as he not so discreetly eyes you up and down, biting his bottom lip as he does so. "Amazing." Very quickly you see some heads pop out from their cubicles out of your peripheral vision. It makes your smile all the more genuine.

Acting like you think the two of you are all alone in the office lobby, you giggle and lean into Sunoo. "Thank you for buying this outfit for me. It fits me in all the right places." You wink and pull at his tie slightly, turning around and walking away with it slipping through your fingers.

All of the heads quickly return to their computer screens, pretending to not have heard or seen a single thing.

It’s almost too easy.

Heeseung's cubicle is near the front of the lobby with yours and Sunoos around the middle of the floorplan. Without a doubt, Heeseung's head had to have been one of the ones who was watching you just now. 

Gliding across the floor with Sunoo quickly following behind you, your heels click delightfully against the tile floor. In a split minute decision, instead of trying to discreetly glance into Heeseung's cubicle like you initially wanted to, you decide to turn back towards Sunoo and reach for his hand, giggling all along the way as you focus on him and only him. 

Sunoo grasps your hand tightly in his, his free hand pocketed in his tightly fit slacks. You weren't the only one with the wardrobe upgrade. If you're being completely honest, he won the makeover competition. Your new partner in crime has left behind his cute blonde locks and now sports chic raven black hair, his bangs framing his face in a way that makes his deep amber brown eyes stand out more so than ever before. And to think he used to cover those sweet irises with hazel contacts…you really hope he’s thrown them out, honestly. Sunoo looks like a completely different person now, and yet, he seems more like himself than ever before. His smile is soft yet confident, his gaze fond as he watches you pull him to his cubicle.

It baffles you that this is the same Sunoo who's been sitting behind you for all these years. 

Throwing out the cheap, stiff, button up collared shirts, Sunoo now adorns some fancy name brand sweaters, sporks jackets, and silk button-ups: all items you thrifted with him during your weekend spent scheming together. He looks like a million bucks and ever since the makeover he's been getting attention from strangers in every place he’s walked into, rightfully so. You’ve also gotten your fair share of head turns and whistles from folks on the street and each one only adds more fire to your steps.

It's been a confidence boost for the both of you, to say the least.

Once you're near your own desks, Sunoo holds onto your fingers instead of letting you go, pulling you quickly back into him so fast that your hand automatically flutters against the swell of his chest while he holds you tightly.

"I'll miss you," he mutters softly for only you to hear, bringing up your hand and kissing your knuckles before guiding you to your chair to do his usual routine. Chills dance across your skin as your mind panics for a moment, briefly forgetting that this is all for show.

None of it is real.

"I'll miss you more," you recover with a purr. Then, for good measure, ditching the nervousness echoing in the back of your mind, you let out a louder Shhh! noise followed by an array of giggles, pretending that Sunoo has just whispered something not very office appropriate into your ear, resulting in immediate whispers surrounding your not so private cubicle space. Exactly what you wanted. You let your finger linger down Sunoo’s chest, stopping just above his belt line. You swivel your chair around to face your screen, logging on without giving him a second glance. Unbeknownst to you, Sunoo lingers in the middle of the hallway staring after you with a mixed, unreadable expression.

This was going all too smoothly.

Throughout the days you and Sunoo manage to find ample time to grossly flirt with one another around the office. One of your favorite hobbies now was deciding where exactly you wanted to meet up and get a little frisky.

Your favorite spot by far is easily the copy room, however cliche it may be. Having Sunoo pressed up against your body as his lips roam your neck, your back either against the copy machine itself or the counter just adjacent to it, it was all too much fun.

Like today, for instance, things might have gotten a little too out of hand.

Sunoo's hands roam your body from your hips all the way up to your shoulders as he murmurs things too quietly for you to even understand. Well, let’s be honest, it’s definitely not necessarily because they were too quiet, but because you were so distracted by just how electrifying his touch feels against your skin. It was never meant to be this serious. A touch here, a kiss there, outward flirting and such. But now you're starting to think it's becoming more of a game between the two of you instead of your typical fake dating office romance you set up to make your ex's jealous. 

Technically, you didn't need to start this game so early before the party: it's only a week away now. You were way too eager to put your plan into action, and that meant sacrificing the workplace and those that worked around you, subjecting them all to your very sickening over the top displays of affection.

And perhaps a smidge of your own sanity has also been sacrificed within the mix but you’re not ready to admit that just yet.

You don't even remember why you were in the copy room to begin with. Usually, you try to plan it so either Heeseung or Karina walks in. Lately, it's been everyone but.

Your breath becomes heavier as Sunoo's tongue swipes up along the backside of your ear, a little spot he quickly finds brings out some not so safe for work sounds from you.

Wanting so desperately to enjoy the attention your body is getting, you can't help but fight against the bliss. You're losing sight of the plan ahead. And you can't help but notice just how naturally you're starting to respond to Sunoo's antics.

"Sunoo!" You gasp, glancing at the clock above his head, not realizing just how hot and heavy it was getting between you two. "I think we need to cool it a little bit. We've been in here for fifteen minutes now and no one has even come close to this room."

He chuckles under his breath against your neck, a slow, deep raspy sound that hums along your skin in a way that makes you shudder. "Sorry. Seems I got carried away."

Without hesitation, he backs away from you and you can't deny that your first thought is how much you want him back, to continue to feel his touch against your skin. The way he bites his bottom lip while staring at your own slightly smudged lipstick stained ones has your heart fluttering inside your chest. A whirlwind of confused thoughts tornado rampantly inside your mind as you watch him clear his throat, the raspy voice filled with depth and lust now gone, his casual and naturally cheery voice returning.

"I'm thinking we came on too strong. Now everyone is afraid of being around us." Sunoo ponders outwardly, a finger slowly tapping against his chin as he glances through the small window on the door. How the hell is he able to be so sexy and passionate one minute and easily go back to acting like nothing happened?

Gulping, you clutch your arms to your chest, suddenly feeling cold without Sunoo next to you. “What do we do now?”

“I guess we can get back to work, there’s plenty of time for more shenanigans later.” He winks and walks out of the room, leaving you wondering just when did he become so carefree and confident meanwhile you’ve become meek and insecure.

A spur of the moment shopping spree sprung upon you and Sunoo the night before the Valentine's Day party. After all the scheming and planning, the one thing you forgot to plan for was what you would be wearing for the event; thus blossoming said scheming and planning. Even when you both upgraded your wardrobes before, it was all simple business casual outfits for the office, not night out, attention grabbing attire. 

Sunoo calls you in a panic, words blurring together through the phone as you try to make out what he's trying to say. Eventually, you're able to put two and two together.

"Holy shit we forgot our party outfits!" You exclaim dumbfoundedly.

So, that's how you got here – sprinting down isles with your hands out batting against the edges of the clothes with a large excited grin on your face. Some of the fabrics feel soft against your fingertips as the wind blows through your hair. As you look over to Sunoo, you can't help but to smile more, not even noticing the gross feeling of old velvet pants sticking against the groove of your fingertips. Any other day, your body would have recoiled in disgust. But somehow, staring into Sunoo's earthy brown eyes, everything has become manageable. 

As the night continues and fashion show after fashion show occurs, you start to think about how you look at and feel around Sunoo. He's doing everything he can to stay positive in this miserable situation you've both been thrown into, and yet, you find yourself comforted in his presence. While comforting is the best word to describe it, it's also starting to become…confusing. Why does your stomach flip when you catch him looking at you? Why has he become the first person you think of when you wake up and the last thing on your mind before you fall asleep? Is it possible he could be thinking the same about you? It's definitely not an appropriate time for you to jump back into a relationship. Come to think of it, you barely know much about the guy other than what you two share in relationship baggage. 

The rest of the night you seem to move in slow motion, caught up in your thoughts and not really feeling present in the moment anymore. You catch Sunoo sneaking glances at you and it seems he's trying extra hard to be funny with all the ridiculous outfits he's put together, only feeling satisfied and moving on after getting a genuine smile on your face or hearing you chuckle softly.

"How about this!" Sunoo jumps out of the dressing room with arms wide open, wearing a bright green feathered boa hanging loosely off his shoulders, red and yellow vertical striped pants, and a shirt that definitely could have belonged to a middle-aged man who loved to go fishing every weekend. All you can really muster is a soft stare, your eyes not quite focusing on the ridiculous clown outfit in front of you. There's a certain disconnection you feel with yourself even though it feels like you should be happy, almost like a large rain cloud is augmenting over your head.

"You didn't even try to smile this time," Sunoo’s entire demeanor softens instantly, the performance mask he was trying to put on for you slipping away. He walks towards the loveseat you're sitting on and joins you, his shoulder lightly bumping against yours, "what's on your mind?"

Not exactly ready to admit your confused feelings about him, if there are even feelings there at all, you decide to talk about the only other thing that’s been disturbing your thoughts: Heeseung.

You let out a quiet sigh, gaze dropping to your hands that are resting in your lap, “I just wish it were easier, you know? Moving on…”

Sunoo huffs and juts out his bottom lip sympathetically, quickly coming to your rescue by wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You let him console you, lowering your head onto his chest as he rubs comforting circles on the side of your arm, the smell of his cologne tickling your nose in a pleasant way.

“It’s okay. I’ve been having a hard time getting over Karina too. It seems that no matter how hard I try, my mind always drifts back to her. I still don’t really understand how she could just jump into a relationship with Heeseung and be in love so quickly. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Do you think they could be faking too? Like us?” The words come tumbling past your lips before you can properly process them, your stomach turning and twisting into all sorts of complicated knots. Why would you and Sunoo get dumped only for them to rub it in your face on purpose? None of it really makes sense.

“I’m not sure,” Sunoo sighs, still rubbing his hand up and down your arm, “I honestly wouldn’t put it past Karina to do it. There were more than a handful of times when we’d be around a bunch of people and she’d be all over me, couldn’t leave my side, doting and praising me more than I knew how to handle. Then, when we’d get home, she’d want her space and do her own thing, pushing me away even at the smallest contact. It was super weird and messed with my head for a bit,” Sunoo sighs and rests his head on top of yours, pulling you closer, “I think she just needs everyone to see how loved she is. I don’t know. She has her own insecurities she still needs to deal with I guess.”

Nodding your head into Sunoo’s chest, you also reflect on the way Heeseung treated you when you were in front of other people versus how he treated you at home. And you can’t really think of an obvious difference. PDA was never within his comfort zone, but he’d still hold your hand and kiss you in front of people. He was an amazing boyfriend to you up until the moments near the end when he slowly started withdrawing. Seeing him be so over the top with someone new, especially in front of coworkers, has definitely been a culture shock, but you just wrote it off as people acting differently depending on who they’re with. Which is totally normal, right?

“Sometimes it’s nice to think that they want to see us upset, doesn’t it?” Sunoo smiles and pats your head teasingly, standing up and offering a hand out to you. “Kinda shows us that we mean a whole lot more to them than they’re willing to admit. C’mon. Let’s find you a killer outfit and show Heeseung exactly what he’s missing.”

“Sunoo. Has anyone ever told you that you could have a career in fashion?”

You keep staring at yourself in the mirror, looking at every angle possible of the attire you have on. Sunoo picked out everything himself, more than proving that his taste is far beyond more exquisite than all of your project runway knowledge and late night TikTok haul compilations combined. Right away in the thrift store, he commanded that blue is the only color he wants to see you in, none of that typical pink or red Valentine’s Day bullshit. “We need to stand out in all the best and worst of ways. Plus, blue is one thousand percent your color.” He had said to you, reassuring you along the way that he’ll find something for you both to match in.

And he was absolutely right. Blue is most definitely your color. The way it brings out the natural shine in your hair and even that small spark in your eyes, you’ve never been so confident with just a shade before.

The style of the dress itself is something you would expect to see in an over chic event after party with just enough elegance to make it eye-catching and eye-ogling worthy; pools of tool and fabric cascade down your legs, a long slit going up until your mid-thigh. The top half of the dress is strapless and slightly exposing your cleavage a little too well, the swell of your breasts swaying with every breath you take, yet still snugly in place. You protested heavily on the dress in the store, it needed more than a little TLC with some rips and tears in the skirt and some stains on the front. But Sunoo had insisted and told you he had a plan in mind, all you had to do was trust him.

In less than two hours after leaving the store, Sunoo had successfully stitched and sewed his way to a beautiful masterpiece. You couldn’t even tell this was the same dress he had picked out in the thrift store.

Fondly, he smiles at you as he looks at what he’s created, a hint of blush dusting over his cheeks as he softly admits that, while he was growing up, his mother and older sister would make their own clothes to save some money. Naturally, Sunoo picked up on what they had learned and actively participated alongside them.

“One year, for my mother’s birthday, my sister and I both worked on this really grand dress that matched the one on her childhood doll. It took us nearly three months to make. I had never seen my mom ugly cry before until that moment. I remember her hugging my sister and I so tightly I almost passed out!” He chuckles lightly, fingers ghosting along the fabric of your dress as he thinks back on the memory, but his smile slips, just for a moment. “I used to be made fun of for this stuff, but nothing feels as good as seeing someone’s face light up when they put on something you’ve made. It’s the same face you have on right now actually.” He stands up from his kneeling position and taps the underside of your chin lightly with his thumb. Goosebumps ripple across your skin and you can’t help but turn your gaze away from him, afraid of what your eyes might give away.

Finally regaining your composure, you turn and smile back at him, feeling an overwhelming sense of comfort between the two of you. The warmth from his words and the soft smile on his face is something you’re not quite used to; your connection seems to run deeper than you were ultimately expecting it to be. And you like the feeling of it.

“I’ll kick anyone’s ass if they make fun of you,” you say boldly, hands on your hips for emphasis.

Sunoo throws a pillow at your back, the both of you laughing like old high school best friends.

Pacing back and forth in your living room, you can’t help but consider that it’s a strong possibility you might have been stood up. Sunoo said he would be at your apartment a good hour or two before the party started at 7pm so you could help each other get ready, hyped, and mentally prepared for the night ahead. It’s currently 6:48pm.

Right now you are definitely not ready. You are definitely not hyped.

Glancing at the clock on your phone only makes you more anxious as you fight the urge to call him for the fourteenth time. The party has started by now and tears threaten to spill from your eyes. It’s not like you wanted to go to the dumb party anyways. Making an appearance was supposed to be a fun way to get under Heeseung’s skin, prove to him that you didn’t lose the breakup, that you weren’t a depressed mess who couldn’t show her face on the day of love.

This didn’t seem in character for Sunoo. Unless, you dreadfully think, you said something that offended him. You stumble towards your couch, sitting down promptly and burying your face in your hands. Maybe he caught a whiff of your little crush on him. Or maybe he just couldn’t bear to see Karina on such a romantic holiday night clinging to her new fling. Your thoughts are spiraling out of control, vision blurring as the tears finally start to spill. You take off your heels in a defeated huff, tempting the idea of shucking them into the neighbor's shrubs to get them completely out of your presence.

All you can muster is another defeated glance at your window, heels still in one hand, and laugh to yourself when all you can see is the flickering street lights momentarily illuminating a very drab and empty street. This is what you get, huh? You wanted revenge and karma did not feel like taking its time in giving you exactly what you deserve.

Thoughts of Heeseung and Karina slow dancing under paper hearts spinning on a string from the ceiling leaves you feeling emptier than ever before.

As a large teardrop drips down your cheek, bright headlights shine into your window. Your front door is slightly ajar; your hopeless attempts at letting Sunoo know he was welcome to let himself in. All it did, though, was let in an icy draft, the cold air clawing at your skin.

Sunoo steps out of his car with a bright smile that quickly falters as soon as he sees you through the window, head hanging low and slowly brushing the back of your hand under your eyes.

“Y/n?” Sunoo pushes the front door open and rushes over to you. He’s wearing his blue suit, the one he picked out to match yours, and he looks so damn good it makes you want to cry even more. His hair is styled so that part of his forehead is showing and his face is glowing, almost dewy from his pristine skin care routine. You try to meet his gaze confidently, desperate to push your feelings to the side. But, as soon as you see the way his eyes look at you with concern, emotions overtake you and the tears flow more consistently before you’re able to even attempt to swallow them down.

“Are you okay? Oh, Y/n what’s wrong? What happened?” Sunoo sits next to you and pulls your head to his chest, wrapping one arm around the back of your shoulders while the other one wraps around the front of your body. You clutch your hands to your face, embarrassed beyond belief that you’re sobbing on Valentine’s Day in front of your fake date of the night.

You think about mentioning Heeseung and Karina, or the fact that you really don’t want to go to this party anymore. Instead, what softly comes out is, “I thought you weren’t going to show up…”

Pushing you back slowly so he can see your face, Sunoo takes your hands gently in his own, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles while he looks into your tear filled eyes. “I would never leave you behind.”

It feels like your heart plummets down a ten-story building and all you want to do is melt into him. 

Continuing before you have the chance to get ahead of yourself and do something you regret, Sunoo unknowingly interrupts your thoughts, “Did my texts not go through? I said we got the time mixed up. The party starts at eight, not seven. I also stopped by to get you this-” He looks around at the ground beside him for a moment, then motions for you to hold on while he trots back to his car.

“Close your eyes!” He yells while laughing his way back through the doorway. You wipe your eyes one last time before placing your hands over them. 

You hear his footsteps on the carpet as he gets closer. It’s probably some flowers, a corsage even, something basic and traditional to the holiday that everyone’s fake date thinks of getting them before they attempt to make their ex’s jealous. 

There’s movement on the top of your head and a tickling feeling against your neck that makes you flinch, nearly opening your eyes before being stopped by Sunoo. “It’s just me, hold on.” He places something on your head, adjusting it and fixing your hair.

“Perfect!” He steps back. “Go ahead. Open your eyes.”

Slowly, you remove your hands from your face and look around. Sunoo is standing in front of you holding a small compact mirror. Leaning forward, you look until you can see your reflection and the small, shiny pendant nestled around your neck.

“I saw it on my way over here in some small shop window. I just had to get it for you. It really brings your whole outfit together! – And your eyes.” He whispers the last part. Sunoo’s smile is big and warm, rendering you speechless. But that doesn’t stop you from opening your mouth to at least make an attempt to express your gratitude .

“No need to thank me!” Sunoo puts the compact mirror in his pants pocket, reaching for your hand to pull you up from the couch. “Seeing everyone’s reaction to how amazing you look is all the thanks I need.”

A couple minutes are spent assisting you with getting your makeup back in place and adjusting your hair; Sunoo works tentatively with a type of care and attention to detail you’ve never seen from a man before. He murmurs a flourish of praises and compliments, all ones that have you feeling giddy and shy. 

Once everything is in order, he walks you to the passenger side of his car and opens the door for you, assisting with your dress to make sure not a single string of fabric gets caught.

“Thank you, Sunoo,” you whisper just before he closes the door. There’s a shine behind his eyes as he nods his head softly, his smile still unwavering.

A nice intense pep talk goes down in Sunoo’s car before you’re both able to walk up to the office hand in hand. You had thought you would be a shaking mess of nerves, but instead, it’s Sunoo’s hand that clutches yours tightly, a slight murmur disrupting his cool demeanor.

All of the office desks have been pushed against one wall with cupid cutouts and (as you predicted earlier) paper hearts hanging from the ceiling. A red light is cast throughout the room giving it a nice sultry feel as light music plays over the speakers. You never realized just how big the office space actually was until seeing everything cleared out the way it is now. Easily seventy or so people could fit in here for a party. Instead, there’s only about thirty of you.

Everything looked so magical, and yet, it feels oddly…prom-like.

You and Sunoo are fashionably late (as planned in the pep talk), so as soon as the front door opens with a loud sha-shunk sound, all eyes are on you two.

“Game on.” You smirk, feeling as ready as ever. Utilizing your nerves as a strength instead of weakness, you hold your head high, keeping your gaze soft while you look at Sunoo.

“Sunoo! Y/n!” Karina’s usual peppy voice wavers over the music as her wide eyes scans your bodies. “You’re here!” There’s a hint of a question in her tone, her eyes narrowing now.

The crowd parts slightly, leaving a space so Heeseung and Karina can greet you at the front door.

“Oh, we just couldn’t miss the party of the century!” You laugh, clinging to Sunoo’s upper arm.

“The chance to show off this beautiful lady? Wouldn’t pass that up for anything!” Sunoo is saying this in response to Karina, but his eyes are only on you. He gives you a wink for good measure, leaning in slightly until the tips of your noses touch. It’s easy to smile at his antics, forgetting for a moment that this is supposed to be pretend.

“Yeah, like anyone would describe Y/n as a party person,” Heeseung quips with a scoff. Your eyebrows furrow, glancing over to your ex for the first time. 

You can’t deny how great he looks in his pastel pink suit that perfectly matches Karina’s revealing party dress. It accents every curve of his muscles in his arms, his suit jacket draping on his wide shoulders with ease and flare. Heeseung’s face is flushed with what has to be the effects of alcohol, his cheeks and nose lightly dusted with pink. You can’t help but remember the moments you would drink together, giggling as you leaned into each other’s bodies. Whispered promises would pass between the two of you between karaoke songs and midnight snacks; all small yet meaningful memories you thought you had successfully buried a while ago.

This might be harder than you were expecting.

“You never really were the type of person to be able to think on their feet, huh, Heeseung?” You chuckle knowing that he really was trying to hurt your feelings in front of everyone. Heeseung glowers at you, his lips a fine, thin line.

Karina looks like she wants to say something, but instead grabs Heeseung’s elbow and turns him around, heading back to the middle of the dance floor.

Without looking, you and Sunoo give each other a satisfactory low-five.

“So, snacks? Drinks? Or dance floor?” Sunoo asks.

“Oh, definitely snacks. I see a bowl of chips calling my name!” You not so graciously speed walk over to said bowl and pick it up, cradling it the same way one would a newborn baby. Sunoo picks up a large pink cupcake and runs his finger around the frosting, sucking on the digit slowly as he observes the crowd before him. (somewhere in another universe Sunghoon starts shaking)

Turning to crowdwatch with him, you recoil at the sight before you: Karina is bent forward slightly, wiggling her ass against Heeseung’s crotch. The co-workers around them cheer, raising their glasses as they continue to jump to the music. Heeseung doesn’t even look slightly embarrassed, a smug smile plastered on his face while he dances along.

“You know, if I would have even dropped low like that to pick up a can of soup or something that fell on the floor, he’d hide his face in shame,” you say with a mouthful of chips.

Sunoo scoffs, shoving the remainder of the cupcake into his mouth. “Ehdgeeut.”

“I bet we could out dance them,” you say more confidently than you actually feel. Without waiting for Sunoo’s response, you grab his sticky cupcake hand and drag him to the dance floor.

Relaxing as much as you can, you try to empty your mind of all fears and doubts and mimic what you’ve seen in movies and music videos, using Sunoo more as a prop than an actual dance partner when you grab his shoulders and move your hands down his body.

At first, no one notices you two. But as more co-workers break to grab refreshments, they come back and form a crowd around you two instead of mindlessly migrating back to Heeseung and Karina.

And eventually, that left the pair without an audience to flaunt in front of.

Sunoo is getting more and more into the movements, confidence and ease dripping throughout his aura. It’s beautiful watching him smile and enjoy himself, not even noticing the people around him. It definitely helps you feel more comfortable in the spotlight as well. Pulling you closer, Sunoo lifts up one of your legs and hooks it at his hip, one of his hands roaming up your thigh sensually slow. Your heart races as his face gets closer to your own, both your foreheads connecting and it feels like you’re breathing the same air with the way the warmth of his breath ghosts over your lips.

At this point, you know Heeseung and Karina are watching you. The heat of their gaze shooting like daggers at your back is hard to ignore.

The song ends right as Sunoo pulls you closer and kisses you. It isn’t like any of the fake, playful kisses you’ve exchanged in the office previously. This one is laced with something sweet and earnest, a want you can’t even begin to explain. Everything fades away in the background – the music, the crowd, Heeseung. Melting into Sunoo’s kiss is all your body wants to focus on.

And you don’t want to stop kissing him. You don’t want this feeling to end.

“Get a room!” Someone yells from the back, the crowd erupting into laughter as some shield their eyes away from you.

“Maybe we will,” Sunoo huffs, his eyes darkened by his dilated pupils. It’s a look you haven’t seen from him before, but you don’t have time to process it. Hastily grabbing your hand, you’re both running out of the room and into one of the office hallways.

And as you run, you catch a glimpse of Heeseung’s wide, regretful eyes, his shoulders sagging into his suit jacket.

Quite the victory if you’ve ever seen one.

Giggles and shuffling feet is all you can hear throughout the hallway, you and Sunoo carelessly stumbling against each other while you try to walk, stopping here and there to aggressively makeout. The cool air is barely noticeable against the warm touches from Sunoo's hands around your body. Each time his skin presses against yours it leaves a ripple of warmth throughout your body, so much so that it feels like you'll never be cold again. Something you wouldn’t mind giving up if it meant being able to stay like this forever. Is this what it feels like to let someone back in again? Or are you just excited by the attention? Could this really go beyond your unwritten pact?

Your hands grasp the edges of his suit firmly as you momentarily take control, pushing him carefully against the wall so you can kiss him again. Sunoo smiles into the kiss, chuckling deep from his chest as he wraps his arms around your waist. His lips are soft and familiar now and it's become a little too easy to get lost in them. 

At times like this, you forget this is supposed to be pretend. 

Pushing those thoughts away, you continue to dive in. 

These kisses start to feel different than the ones from before. Originally, they were nothing more than quick pecks, not even two seconds long at their most intense. Now, they're slow, both of your lips molding together in slow, heated motion, giving you plenty of time to let your hands roam with minds of their own. Your bodies start to connect like puzzle pieces, like the way your hip naturally leans into his or the way your chest rises up flush against his own. Every time Sunoo's tongue barely sneaks past the edges of his mouth sends a warm chill that blooms deep in your chest, rippling until you feel it in the tips of your fingers. You almost want to sigh in relief the way one would sigh when sinking into a nice warm bath after a long day. 

Heeseung never kissed you like this. 

Slow and steady turns into fast and desperate. All of a sudden what you're getting is just not enough. And it seems you’re not the only one feeling this way. Sunoo pulls at the fabric of your dress, guiding you away from the wall so he can lead you into one of the conference rooms, the very conference room Heeseung and Karina will be coming up to in order to exchange Valentine's Day gifts according to what their flyers said at least. 

You can't help but wonder if this was done on purpose, or just a cruel coincidence.

Once you're past the threshold, Sunoo's in control. He breaks apart the kiss and turns you around, lightly pushing the small of your back until standing next to the conference table. His hands find your hips again, pushing you further until you’re leaning against the table now. His hands continue moving up and down your body for a moment, hesitating before boldly moving up to your breasts and squeezing lightly. 

"Is this okay?" He murmurs, hiding his face with a kiss on your neck, just under your ear as he massages your chest.

It felt more than okay. Your mind is turning into white static with the built-up attention. Heeseung never asked you if this was okay, always just acting first, thinking later. Hearing the nervous yet caring words from Sunoo ignites a fire inside you that you weren't away was waiting to be lit.

Composure slipping, you fight back a moan that forms in your throat when he squeezes your chest a little more aggressively than before. "Mhmm yeah, this is okay." Chuckling, you let your eyes flutter shut, somehow making the experience even more enjoyable this way.

Wasting no time, Sunoo shucks off his suit jacket in one clean motion, tossing it aside carelessly and diving back into your lips.

“Nuh-uh,” you moan against his lips, pulling at his button up shirt, “off.”

Groaning with a pouted smile, Sunoo breaks away and slowly starts to unbutton his shirt.

“Are you punishing me now?” You laugh, already missing the feeling of him on your skin.

“I can go slower than this,” he plays, the tip of his tongue poking past the side of his lips. His fingers start to move slower as he glares at you through his bangs. It’s a devilishly hot look, one that makes you gulp, suddenly feeling a bit like a prey being observed by a predator.

Normally you wouldn’t mind a little strip tease or the build of anticipation. But right now, you’re anxious to get him back on you. The longer he stands there in front of you, the more your mind starts to overthink, and you want nothing more than to not think for once and just do.

Sunoo is only halfway down his shirt, gaze still flirting and testing. The more loose his shirt becomes, the more enticing it is to just grab a fistful of it and pull him closer.

And so you do.

You take his now loose tie into your fist and pull him close, his face now inches from yours. Sunoo’s breathing is heavy, his chest moving up and down almost as quick as your heart is beating.

You move in like you’re about to kiss him, but stop short just as your lips barely brush against his.

“I don’t like playing games,” you whisper, showing your teeth as you smile.

“Funny,” Sunoo murmurs back, grabbing onto your hips and flipping you around until your ass is flushed against his crotch, his tie still laced between your fingers, “Didn’t seem that way when you asked me to play along with your little scheme.”

All you can manage is a soft sigh, allowing yourself to relax against his body and letting his tie slip past your fingers, grinding your hips against his hardening length.

This is all a game, you remind yourself. Or, at least, it started out as one.

Sunoo unzips the back of your dress, leaving a trail of kisses against your skin along the way. If there is a world record for the most amount of times a person has shuddered with chills in the span of ten seconds, well, you would have beaten that record by a mile.

And although you enjoy each kiss and each touch, it’s all going far too slow.

Using what goods you have in the back, you push out with enough force to back Sunoo up a step. It was just enough for you to be able to spin around to face him and drop your dress to your feet.

“Wow,” Sunoo gasps, “you are absolutely beautiful.” His eyes roam over your body without hesitation, not even remotely shy when they land on your chest, appreciating the very sexy lace bra you bought just for today.

“Thanks,” you raise an eyebrow confidently, a playful smirk adorning your lips, “I showed you mine, now show me yours.”

Without question, Sunoo moves to undo his belt, still moving rather slowly as he unbuttons his pants.

Your eyes follow his hands as they move back up his legs. Eyeing his frontal area, you’re surprised to see that he isn’t hard yet like you thought he was, his boxers completely smooth and tentless.

You try not to show your disappointment, but Sunoo notices right away.

Bashfully, he grips the back of his neck with one hand, looking down and apologizing. “I’m just kind of nervous is all.”

“No, no! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable! I was just a little surprised! If you’re not ready we don’t have to do anything.” It suddenly feels very cold in this room, the weight of something unspoken hanging eerily around you.

Sunoo smiles again, this time more innocently than before, “I want to. Trust me.”

Closing the distance between you two, you kiss him on the lips slowly, an invitation for him to take the lead.

It doesn’t take him nearly as long as you had anticipated.

Sunoo’s mouth moves feverishly against yours, that fire instantly igniting back between your two bodies. His hand grips the side of your neck gently, his thumb resting just behind your jawline. It isn’t until your fingernails trail the edge of his spine that his grip hardens slightly, taking your breath away.

Sunoo’s free hand moves to your back to unclasp your bra, doing so in an impressive one try. His hand is instantly on one of your breasts, massaging them roughly. It’s a sharp contrast to how he was touching you earlier, not like you really mind.

That is all the touch you need before you’re ready for him. Your arousal is impossible to ignore at this point, feeling the way your panties stick uncomfortably to your skin. No more buildup is needed.

Your thumb slips past the hem of his boxers, pulling them down and away from his skin. Sunoo steps out of them now completely naked before you. As you continue to kiss, you can’t help but chance a peek at what he has lying below.

And what he has does not disappoint.

“Wow!” You gasp, “Karina left you for Heeseung? No wonder she seems more high strung than usual.”

Laughing in surprise, Sunoo stops his ministrations and rests his head on your shoulder in embarrassment. His erection pokes at your thigh teasingly, enough to make you feel dizzy all over again.

“And then you,” he returns softly, “Karina may be pretty, but she’s also flatter than a piece of cardboard. You?” He whistles and manages to bring his head back up, eyeing you up and down while biting his bottom lip.

“He’s stupid,” Sunoo concludes.

“And she’s an idiot.” You smile.

“Enough about them,” Sunoo takes both of his hands and grasps your panties right below your navel. With one swift motion, he rips the fabric in two and is moving you back to the table, back to the original position you were in, “this is about us.”

There’s no time to appreciate just how incredibly sexy that was of him. In his hand, Sunoo shows a condom he must have pulled out of his pocket earlier. You honestly don’t remember seeing him do it, but you nod your head quickly up and down. Taking it between his teeth, Sunoo rips the plastic and promptly places the condom on the tip of his cock, unrolling it carefully. Your thighs tingle with anticipation, your body yearning to be filled by him.

Spreading your legs out so that your feet rest on the tops of the neighboring chairs, you nod your head once more for Sunoo. He awkwardly brushes his tip against your clit, making you wince at the sudden contact. Apologizing under his breath, Sunoo continues to gather your slick, coating the condom before lining himself up to your hole.

Slowly, he inches the tip of his cock inside.

Sunoo’s arms are placed on either side of your hips and you use his stance to grip his biceps, holding on for dear life as you try to mentally prepare for the massiveness that’s entering your body.

Sunoo guides his cock up and down your folds just once before diving right in.

The stretch is absolutely delicious, immediately your eyes roll back with bliss. He’s only able to get inside of you a quarter of the way before he slides back out, repeating the process until he’s able to inch further and further, deeper and deeper. For a moment it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to bottom out in you. But if you’ve learned anything from this time you’ve spent with Sunoo, it’s that this man is determined.

One final thrust and it feels like he’s pushing straight through your G-spot.

You’re out of breath as you cling to him more aggressively, not able to even comprehend what it would feel like for him to pound into you with everything he’s got if this is how it feels to just have him slowly push into you.

Sunoo searches for your mouth, planting a long, deep kiss on your lips as he slowly starts to rock his hips back and forth. There’s a tense hunger from his lips that you try to match, but the pleasure you’re feeling down below is distracting your every thought.

After a few moments pass, the strong build-up you initially felt seems to simmer out. 

Despite the intense need for one another, there's something between you and Sunoo that's different from what you had with Heeseung, something missing: spark.

The thought hits you. Hard. So much so that it stuns you into a motionless blob. In retrospect, it isn't even that big of a revelation, but it's enough to put some ease on your mind and brings you some much needed clarity. Despite how much you wanted this, despite how good it feels, it also unintentionally feels…weird.

"Y/n. Are you okay?" Tentatively, Sunoo stops for a moment and makes sure to meet your eyes.

Opening your mouth to respond, instead of words an eruption of laughter takes over you growing gradually until your entire body shakes with it. You clasp your hands over your mouth to try to contain it, but it only seems to worsen the giggles.

"I'm so sorry, Sunoo," you finally manage, "I just realized— I don't think…” you take a deep breath, ignoring the screaming voice in your head telling you to shut up, “I don’t think I like you in this way."

There's a moment where Sunoo and you both look down at where your body's currently connected and intertwined and for a second you're afraid that you've hurt his feelings or possibly even offended him.

He inhales slowly, releasing the air quickly soon after with an 'ahhh' sound. "Oh thank god! I wasn't sure if it was just me, but I started to realize the same thing a few minutes ago."

Laughter bubbles from your throat naturally, your lips vibrating as you try to hold it in. But, it’s no use. Sunoo sees you laughing and he can’t help but do the same.

“We should probably get out of here before we make an even bigger fool of ourselves. We can get Chinese? Hang out at my place and talk and watch a movie? I feel like we should talk.”

You’re about to verbally agree when a blinding light interrupts your thoughts.

“Oh my god!” A squeaky voice trills by the doorway, echoing throughout the room. 

You and Sunoo freeze in place; he hasn’t even had the chance to remove his cock from your cunt.

The intense drowning feeling consumes you as your vision finally comes to focus. At the doorway are Heeseung and Karina.

“Y/N?” Heeseung’s voice cracks in disbelief at the sight in front of him, eyes wide with shock.

Panic sets in. How stupid was this idea? Who thought you should go to a work party, strip naked, and start having sex with one of your coworkers on the table in one of the conference rooms just to get back at your ex boyfriend?

If it were just Heeseung and Karina, your embarrassment would still be there, but at a much more containable and manageable amount. 

The entire office staff on the other hand...you were not prepared for that.

“Everyone leave!” Heeseung yells, turning his back to you and ushering the other coworkers away. As he’s doing so, Sunoo slips out of you, running over to where your clothes were discarded and throwing them at you with haste as he rushes to dress the lower half of himself.

Your arms feel numb as you pull your dress over your head, not even bothering with your bra or ripped panties.

Heeseung returns and closes the door. Karina is covering her eyes, her back turned to you and Sunoo slightly as she’s muttering something to herself. Her perfect black hair cascades into a curtain to shield her eyes from your nakedness.

“This is going to sound so cliche,” Sunoo starts after too many seconds of awkward silence pass between the four of you, “but this is not what it looks like.”

Karina makes an abundance of gibberish sounds with an aghast look on her face before finally blurting out, “Look like what? Like you weren’t caught having sex with each other?! Geez, Sunoo! We knew you guys were all over each other but I thought you had enough decency to keep that stuff in the bedroom!” She puts her palms out towards you both and shakes them before turning away once again with her head down, shaking it in disbelief.

“That’s the thing! It’s complicated!” You shout, desperately trying to zip up the back of your dress by yourself but failing.

“Were you or were you not just having sex?” Heeseung says sternly, looking directly at you like a disappointed father. You give up the fight with the zipper and sit down in one of the chairs behind you. It’s you he wants the response from, you can tell by the fact that he hasn’t given Sunoo a single glance.

“Yes, but-”

“Then that’s the answer, Y/n. We get it!” Heeseung turns to Karina and gives her a gross affectionate kiss on the cheek that makes you quirk up an eyebrow in confusion. “You guys are jealous of the love we found and you didn’t want to be alone on Valentine’s Day. So, naturally, you turned to each other! But did you really have to embarrass yourselves in some disorganized attempt to get back at us? Just be together in the privacy of your homes, no need to throw it in our faces.”

Sunoo looks at you, and you at him, once again neither of you being able to look at each other seriously and you both start to laugh, yet again.

“That’s rich coming from you!” You almost slap your knee unironically.

“And…we aren’t actually seeing each other.” Sunoo leans against the wall so casually, his composure now under control. You wonder where this confidence has come from. Either way, it looks good on him.

If it weren’t Sunoo, you wouldn’t be so calm about confessing your conniving plans of fake dating. The way he’s so casually laughing and accepting the fact that you were both caught helps ease the anxieties you know you would have felt. And in this moment you realize why he’s not upset and why he’s not embarrassed: he’s finally moving on from Karina.

And, you guess, the same thing is happening to you with Heeseung.

“We faked it all,” you smile genuinely, “Of course we were upset when you guys got together, but honestly for myself, I would have had an easier time moving on if you two weren’t constantly shoving your love down everyone’s throats.”

“We’re surprised you haven’t been in a hallmark movie yet,” Sunoo adds.

“Exactly! It’s borderline overacting.” Pointing at Sunoo as he nods his head, you relax even more.

Heeseung and Karina stare at the two of you, stunned on an entirely new level. Looks like you and Sunoo are the first to tell them how gross and obnoxious their PDA has been.

Karina looks at Sunoo with a weird glint in her eyes, one that makes you instantly suspicious of what she’s about to say. 

“Sunoo, let’s get out of here,” you suggest before she even has the chance to speak. “I may not be in love with you romantically, but I think it’s safe to say we’re pretty great friends now. And as your new friend, I suggest we blow this popsicle stand and run off together into the sunset!” You jump up quickly and hold out your arm for him to take.

“I agree completely, Y/n!” Sunoo jumps with just as much fervor as you and gladly takes your arm.

As the two of you start to skip past a dumbstruck pair of exes, you pause before Heeseung and boop the tip of his nose playfully. “Take care now. We’ll see you on Monday!” You wink and continue on with Sunoo.

Deep down, you’d give anything to go back in there and explain the situation entirely with your ex, to have one last heart to heart and really see just what’s going through his head and to get some sort of closure. But you know it’s not healthy to act that way anymore. It’s better to move on and enjoy the day with your newfound friend. So what if you’re single this Valentine’s Day? At least you get to be single with Sunoo.

Later that night, as Spongebob plays in the background of Sunoo’s living room, you look around at all the empty Chinese takeout boxes and at Sunoo passed out on his side of the couch, and you realize for the first time you feel genuinely at peace. Sure, you know it’s going to take some time to fully get over Heeseung, but at the end of the day, you might have gained more than you lost.

With a friend like Sunoo by your side through it all, though, you know it won’t be so bad.

♡ pls like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! ♡ masterlist ♡ all rights reserved jayparked 02/14/25 do not copy, repost, or translate. if you're inspired to create something similar to my work, please credit me

[shaadiwish]

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[miss-authorcita]

Perfume and Propaganda P. 1

PAIRING: Finnick Odair x Reader

WARNING: Possible SotR spoilers in future chapters.

SUMMARY: You were meant to be Capitol elite, born to a powerful family and molded to be a darling of society. But one impulsive act changes you. Years later, your tangled in secrets, rebellion, and lies—now Finnick Odair, the Victor from District 4 you once helped, is the man you’d risk everything for.

A/N: So I read Sunrise on the Reaping and cried, that led me to rewatching ALL of the Hunger Games films, which obviously reminded me of my love for Finnick Odair and then this idea burrowed it’s way into my brain and wouldn’t let go. Sooooooo here it is!! I’m posting it as a reader insert here and as an OC in fanfiction.net in case you’re interested in that!

___

Chapter 1: Like Silence, But Not Really Silent🎶

The scent of citrus polish and floral perfume always clung to everything in the Trinket household. You added to the cacosmia of smells with your own new perfume, a spicy and dark scent your mother insisted you wear because you were now fourteen, practically a woman, but needed to smell “older”. Even your freshly steamed dress, hanging from its pink velvet hanger by a door, seemed to emit a potent woodsy smell.

The soft hum of the Capitol anthem filled the room, playing on a loop from a record player in the corner, and you mouthed the words under your breath—carefully landing each note just as you’d been practicing all week.

“Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever…”

You were sitting at your vanity, practicing the curve of your smile in the mirror like it was part of the national anthem. Your cheeks were flushed with a massive amount of tangerine blush, lips shimmered with golden gloss that matched the shadow applied to your eyes. You checked your posture, shoulders back, chin up, just like your mother taught you.

Behind you, your family’s Avox, a woman with trembling hands and raven hair, gently brushed out your hair. The Avox’s movements were almost tender. You closed your eyes and smiled.

“You always get the knots out without hurting me,” you said. “Mother yanks when she does it.”

The woman tilted her head, maybe amused. 

As the anthem once again played from the beginning your heart fluttered with anticipation. Tonight was the biggest night of your life so far, the Capitol Gala celebrating the upcoming 66th Hunger Games, a night of honor, indulgence, and fashion, and you were finally old enough to attend.

“Do you think it is true that President Snow might be at the gala tonight?” you asked, as the Avox worked. “Father said he would be. Do you think he’ll be nice? Or scary?” you added, nerves and excitement spilling out of you.

The woman didn’t react, her eyes cast down, focused on her duties. You sighed.

“I wish you could talk.”

The Avox reached over you to grab a golden hair pin on the vanity and tucked it neatly into your hairdo. It was shaped like a stylized feather. Expensive and Capitol-approved to show status. Something about the way she placed it—so carefully, in your hair felt almost like she was silently saying “It’ll be okay”. Her comfort was always wordless—but somehow louder than almost everyone in your life.

“Thank you,” you said, smiling brightly.

A knock on the door pulled you both out of the moment.

Drusilla Trinket, your mother, walked in without waiting for permission. “You’re slouching again.”

You straightened immediately.

Your mother looked tailored and perfect, her hair swept into a spiral tower, wearing a sleek lime green gown with feathers that trailed behind her. Her heels clicked against the tile as she crossed the room in sharp, sure strides. She grabbed your dress — a rose-gold confection drowning in ruffles—silently handing it to the Avox so she’d help you into it.

“You’ll be photographed,” your mother spoke, waiting. “Smile, but don’t squint. Show teeth, lots of teeth. And don’t speak unless someone addresses you first.”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Don’t embarrass your sister tonight.”

“I won’t.” you said obediently, straightening like a puppet whose strings were being pulled tight. 

Your mother paused, surveying you, her youngest daughter, like a project in progress. “Turn,” she said, voice firm but not unkind. You did as told, showing a 360° view of your ensemble.

“Do you want to hear me sing the anthem? I practiced the whole second verse and didn’t forget any of the Districts!” 

“I’m sure you’ll do it just fine at the assembly,” your mother said absently, as she moved past you to observe her own makeup in the vanity’s mirror. “Remember, tonight isn’t about you. You’re representing our family.”

Your smile dimmed at your mother’s dismissal.

“Don’t frown”

You obeyed, grinning wider with practiced grace. Drusilla finally met your eyes. “You’re a Trinket. Act like one.” 

The Avox moved to help you into a pair of golden heels, higher than you were used to. She knelt wordlessly, aiding you into them with gentle, practiced hands.

“Thank you,” you said automatically.

Your mother, adjusting her tower of hair, paused. 

Her eyes narrowed, her voice low and clipped. “Do not speak to it unless it's to give an order”

“But she—”

“No,” your mother said firmly. “Avox are not friends. They are a consequence.”

The Avox, kneeling by your feet, had gone very still.

Your mother turned away without another word and moved toward the hallway. “Finish getting ready. Quickly! We leave in twenty minutes.”

Once alone, neither spoke. But the Avox’s hands moved gently, brushing invisible lint from your sleeve, smoothing a wrinkle at your waist. Again with her wordless comfort. “Smiles on!” you proclaimed and followed through.

As you stepped into the hallway, you inspected yourself, wanting perfection. Your father emerged from his study, the lapel of his neon green suit glinting with a pin shaped like a white rose. It was a pathetic act to impress President Snow. Tiberian Trinket was a known kiss-ass and desperate ladder climber.  

His voice was clipped and stern, eyes already narrowed in appraisal. “Is she prepared?” he asked, gesturing towards you.

“She’s anxious,” your mother replied. “As usual.”

Your father’s lip twitched. Not a smile—something more calculating. “No time for that tonight. Tonight means excellence. Poise. Grace. You are not a child anymore, Y/N.”

You swallowed. “Yes, Father.”

“Speak only when spoken to,” he continued, “Don’t ask questions. And above all—do not embarrass this family. We’ve worked too hard to position this family near the center and escape our past shame.”

Behind him, your mother was pinning on more feathers to her hair, completely detached from the cold schooling.

“Both your sisters are finally on their way to great things. You will be too. You’re a Trinket. Act like one.” He finished, echoing the words your mother said in your room.

Your gaze flickered to your own reflection in the apartment window. You looked flawless. Capitol-perfect. An airy giant smile like your mom and sisters wore grazed your lips ‘I am a Trinket’.

The Gala was being held in a Capitol Museum, the outside had been transformed with marble, ivy, and towering gold installations in the shape of the Capitol seal. The press were out in full force, eager for glimpses of victors, stylists, sponsors, and Snow’s inner circle. As you stepped out of the car, camera flashes blinded you, but your smile never dropped. Effie met you at the top of the steps, radiant in a multilayer teal gown with feathers all over her corset and hair to match.

“There she is!” Effie squealed, as she caught sight of you, her sister, arms flinging open in delight, inviting you into a hug. “Darling, you look just divine!”

You giggled, “I missed you!”

Effie laughed, smoothing down a stray hair from your updo. “You’ll steal all the attention from me if I’m not careful.” 

You beamed. “I’ve been practicing the anthem for the Games assembly at school next week. And Effie, guess what? I also get to give the tribute reaping speech!” 

Effie cupped your cheeks. “Just remember to pause dramatically before saying, ‘And may the odds be ever in your favor.’ They love that.” Her gaze softened. “You’ll do a fabulous job, darling. You’re a Trinket.”

You smiled, leaning into your sister’s gentle touch. For all her glitter and manners. Effie was warmth. At least with her sisters. With everyone else, Effie was protocol and polish. 

Your mother stepped in, “Effie” the words were paired with a large veneer smile for the cameras, but her eyes were ordering you to start heading inside. 

“Find me later. We’ll sneak a drink. You, me and Proserpina. Non-alcoholic for you, of course.” And with that Effie floated away to impress Capitol officials, but you clung to that moment. Your oldest sister saw you, not as a child or a burden. But as someone to care for, maybe even be proud of. 

Inside, your parents slithered away to mingle with a quiet warning to behave. 

The ballroom burst with music, blurs of color, perfume, peacocking, laughter and chatter. Servers floated past between guests with glittering trays of jewel-colored drinks and restocked tables with mountains of food piled high. Spotlights illuminated models of past arenas. Tall columns of ice shimmered with light projections of past Games highlights. Everyone and everything looked like it stepped out of a Capitol fashion magazine. There were sponsors in gowns that defied gravity, stylists with live creatures in their hair and very drunk elite members of society. You almost forgot the anxious pit in your stomach as you took in the room with awe. 

You took an offered purple drink and clung to the glass to ease your nerves. You were practically vibrating with excitement as you strolled around, trying various foods, and drinks, some you loved, others not so much. You were enjoying being a guest at the party you had spent years dreaming about. What you didn’t enjoy were the different men who tried engaging you in conversation, some you recognized as colleagues of your father. Their lingering stares and feather touches made you uncomfortable. You escaped a particularly bold one and wandered towards a table with what appeared to be a bubbly pink drink fountain hoping the man would not follow, and that’s when you saw him.

Finnick Odair.

Victor of the 65th Hunger Games. Unreasonably beautiful. Skin kissed by the sun, sea-green eyes that sparkled under the lights of the holographic sky in the ceiling, a smile polished to perfection and golden-brown curls effortlessly tousled. You were starstruck. He was your favorite Victor. The youngest Victor ever. You still replayed the clips of his interviews that you have saved. 

He was surrounded by a group of older Capitol socialites, all drunk, glamorous, and trying to press something fizzy and pink into his hands. He laughed at something one of them said, body angled away from them, toward the crowd. His closed off posture reminded you of the one you’d just had with the handsy man you couldn’t wait escape from.

“Eat, gorgeous, you must eat more!”

One of them waved a glass in front of his face. “You must try this,” she cooed. “One little sip and you can keep enjoying the buffet.”

Finnick’s smile was perfectly polite. “No thank you, really. I’m quite alright.”

One woman pressed her own shimmering flute into his hand. “Oh come now, don’t be like that. Everyone uses it. That’s the point of the Gala!”

“I appreciate it,” he said, “but I’m not as fun when I drink that.”

The woman pouted. Another one joined her, already tipsy. “Nonsense. Drink it to make room!”

He smiled at them, polite and distant. “I’m all right. Thank you,” he said for the third time.

But the women kept giggling, cooing, touching him. One finally shoved the drink at him again, too fast, too forceful. The glass tipped, and the bright pink liquid sloshed over the rim, splashing onto Finnick’s crisp cream shirt.

Finnick flinched, but didn’t move. Didn’t scowl. Just smiled. Calm. Careful.

“Oh!” the culprit gasped, but made no move to help. “Oopsy!”

The others began to laugh, and your feet moved before your brain could stop it. You spoke firmly, stepping between Finnick and the women. “He said he didn’t want it.”

Three heads turned at once. The women blinked down at you, scandalized.

“No, means no.” you added for good measure.

One hissed, “Who do you belong to?”

“Y/N Trinket,” you answered without hesitation. “My father is—”

“We know exactly who your father is,” the other sneered. “He’ll hear about this.”

They spun away, leaving in a flurry of feathers, jewels and judgment.

You plucked a napkin from a passing server’s tray and handed it to Finnick. “Here. You’re dripping.”

Finnick took the napkin, staring at you, visibly surprised.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, blushing. “I just— You looked uncomfortable.”

Finnick stared at you. For a beat. And then, “Thank you.” he said, low and with something different you couldn’t decipher in his voice.

It wasn’t flirtatious. It wasn’t performative. It wasn’t sugary like you’d seen in his interviews, his eyes also weren’t mischievous as the clips you replayed over and over again. He looked human, and it registered for the first time that he was just a kid, probably anxious and told to smile, like you. 

That moment might’ve lasted longer, but suddenly you felt a manicured grip on your arm.

Your mother.

“We’re leaving,” your mother’s voice cut through the air around you like a Peacekeeper whistle.

“But—”

“We. Are. Leaving.”

How your mother managed to drag you away without causing a scene and looking regal while doing it, you’d never understand.

At the bottom of the steps, the family car was waiting. Your father, already inside.

Most of the ride was silent, fog gathering on the windows, blurring the city views. You sat still, heart pounding waiting for the confrontation. You didn’t think you’d done anything horribly wrong. The women were the ones out of line.

Your father finally spoke from his seat across from you. He didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t scowl. He simply looked at you like you were a stupid, spoiled child.

“If you ever humiliate this family again,” he said, voice like broken glass cutting you, “I’ll personally make you an Avox.”

You turned slowly toward him. “An Avox?” you didn’t understand.

“The Avox at home. She had a tongue once. Then she displeased the Capitol. Now she can’t speak. Do you understand?”

You looked to your mother for some guidance, but Drusilla’s eyes were glued to the foggy window. 

“She—she had her tongue cut out?”

You had wondered why the woman never spoke. You thought maybe it was part of her Avox training, like how you weren't meant to chat with her, only give her orders. You never in a million years thought…

Your father kept going. “That’s what an Avox is. You’re lucky the President had already left the event. If he had seen, you’d be tongueless by morning.”

The car turned a corner. You didn’t say another word. You looked down at your lap. The color of your dress suddenly made you nauseated. Your arm stung from where your mother’s nails dug into you while dragging you out. Your ears felt clogged, but you swore you could still hear the laughter and drink fountains of the party.

Back home, the silence of the penthouse was thick and polished, like everything else.

Your parents stormed to their room without a glance. You walked in a daze, the sharp scent of citrus and perfume making your stomach churn for the first time. Your hands trembled as you stepped into your room. 

You hadn’t asked what an Avox was before. You’d heard the word. Everyone used it. You used it. But no one explained it. Not in school. Not at home. Till now.

The Avox in question was waiting inside already, ready to help you undress.

You stared at her for a long moment, all words lodged like a rock in your throat.

The Avox tilted her head, maybe in curiosity, and something inside you shattered, quietly, softly a few tears fell from your eyes. As expected the woman didn’t say anything. She just unzipped your dress, and guided you through the paces of getting ready for bed.

She dressed you, gently took a cloth and wiped off the gold shimmer on your face and then began brushing your hair.  She treated you so delicately, like you were precious. 

“I didn’t know,” you said quietly. “I didn’t know what they did to you.”

The Avox paused, your eyes met in the mirror. She didn’t cry. She didn’t nod. Just like Finnick she remained calm. Careful. Then resumed her duties, though her grip on the hair brush was tighter than before. 

When she tucked you into bed, smoothing the sheets like always, she did something new. The Avox brushed your hair away from your face, like a motherly figure might, and then drew a heart with her thumb on your forehead. A gesture meant to calm the guilt and turmoil in your head.

All it took was one Capitol event for you, Y/N Trinket, born into sparkling privilege and glittering ignorance, to start questioning it all…

A/N: You’re 14 now, but don’t worry, there’ll be time skips up ahead

[harmoonix]

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Iconic Astrology Notes Part II

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✵ - The ascendant in your ascendant persona chart shows how you are inside, how you act more Inside while your natal ascendant shows how you are on the outside ( it works for me so much🌃)

✵ - Eris asteroid (136199) aspecting ascendant SHOWS big power for standing up for yourself, no one can tell you what to do honestly

✵ - Also Eris asteroid aspecting the Venus cannot stand when someone messes up with their partners, like they are top biggest defenders of their lovers

✵ - Eris aspecting Mercury can tend to cuss people off and to end them with words because they can really be aggresive verbally, like starting a fight with them is like being in the middle of a hurricane

✵ - Eris aspecting Moon can have chaotic feelings and feel multiple things at once but these aspects are also very strong for defending what they love and what they want to achieve

✵ - Lilith aspecting Moon can be intense, especially if you have mommy issues but is more than that, this is powerful, you are able to control your feelings very well and to manage to not show your emotions

✵ - Lilith - Mars aspects are soo good at attracting the opposite sex to them, especially if you are attracted to men with this aspect you drain them into you

✵ - Have you ever been to a party with someone who has a Sagittarius or Leo Moon? Or someone who has Moon in the 5th or 9th house? These people really know how to party like, partying and their socializing time is everything "If you see us on the floor you'll be watching all night"

✵ - Saturn/Venus/Sun or Moon in the 7th house = GURL you know you're getting the hottest thing called spouse ever on this earth right??

✵ - Sun aspecting Chiron be like "People will never feel how I feel and will never understand what I feel and why I feel some things,I guess i have to not tell my pain to anyone" - They are def some of the strongest people born

✵ - Ascendant sextile/trine/conjunct Pluto are too iconic for this world to have, so many celebrities have these in their birthcharts

✵ - Nobody but nobody ever can tell someone with Libra or Leo Rising that they look bad because they will embarras themselves, like you tell the beauty icon that they look bad? BFR

✵ - Aquarius Placements wil always be the definition of uniqueness in your birth chart and shows what makes you unique, they aret the salvation

✵ - Aquarius Risings are rare at personality. Notice how is always something unique with the celebrities who have this specific rising sign? They are natural rarities and people don't appreciate them enough

✵ - Capricorn Risings have the same effect because of their authenticity. They keep it authentic and creative, do not be afraid to show your true colors to people

✵ - Gemini/Virgo Risings look more young than they actually are, this thing can make them more attractive because it will be hard to guess your age. Also don't tell your age let people guess your age for more mystery

✵ - Sagittarius Risingsss and their appealllll like gurlll you are magnetic, your ruler Jupiter grants you luck for your whole life since your birth and until your death you have luck written in stars, I love ittt

✵ - I should give a raise to Moon - Pluto aspects for being so misterious and hypnotizing, they are like a shadow who follows around but you never know where it is, also their eyes are extremely beautiful

✵ - Sagittarius Placements are so Iconic for being this honest,I mean you don't want honesty in your life and you choose to be Delulu? Good, always be friends with Sagittarius Placements cause they will spill the tea

✵ - Capricorn Sun/Rising/Moon and the dark femme fatale aesthetic fits so good together like gurlll, black is definitely theirs, they dominate when they wear black (Even Saturn approves)

✵ - Get yourself a bestie with Leo placements so you can talk hours about fashion and gloss, trust the process they have so many good points

✵ - Asteroid Sirene (1009) in Gemini/Virgo will use their enchanting voice to charm the people they want to attract, the native has such an enchanting voice

✵ - Asteroid Sirene (1009) in Scorpio/Cancer/Pisces and GURLLL you really give off Sirene vibes, your eyes, your appearance are enchanting (I imagine them being Vanessa from the little mermaid)

✵ - Juno sextile/trine/conjunct Midheaven and the way they will show off to everyone what a lovely relationship they have will be EPIC, these people have the relationship everyone dreams

✵ - Juno at 5°, 17°, 29° degrees.. Who's gonna tell her?? HOW iconic your spouse can be?? LIKE they will be there for everything at the right moment

✵ - Lilith aspecting Mars (all aspects) often can find the men to be more attracted to them, like a magnet, even the men you don't want to have around you

✵ - Ascendant aspecting Venus (all aspects) are extremely pretty, they are all blessed by Venus in different ways to express their beautiful nature and their gifts

✵ - Hurting someone with heavy Capricorn/Aquarius placements = Karma coming for you when you don't expect it, is like something that never stops until you acknowledge you hurt these people

✵ - Venus at 10°,11°, 22°, 23° degrees can get vey good looking spouses, also mature aswell and veryyy serious about their relationships, they are the type of people " We don't break up we fix it together" (Saturn rules these degrees)

✵ - For those interested in men...Jupiter at 5°, 17°, or 29° degrees can have the same effect, meeting that partner who is extremely hot and smart in the same time, (they will have a good personality)

✵ - Scorpio Sun/Moon/Rising and their mystery is something else, they are remarcabile at hiding secrets and they are extremely loyal to their lovers

✵- Lilith or True Lilith in Leo/Libra/Scorpio/Aquarius are so mesmerizing , when you encounter them you be have this energy of wanting to talk with them and make a contact

✵ - Venus aspecting Mercury, CAN I tell how iconic your voice is??? Everyone is always so impressed by your voice and the way you talk is so gracious

✵ - Venus in Capricorn/Taurus/Virgo and LET IT flow with money, Venus is these signs feels like a "Material Girl" they are having money, style, everything

✵ - Lilith or True Lilith in the 7th house and their mesmerizing power to attract people is INSANE, I tell you is insane how many people can be interested in them

✵ - Air Moons and their style in music is everything, music is bounded to them fr. Highly artisans natives, they can even be good compositors at making and writing music

✵ - Juno at Pisces Degrees (12°, 24°) will most likely meet their true soulmate in this life and create a bound with them. Is written in your destiny and these degrees confirm it

✵ - North Node in 7th house in your Chiron Persona Chart indicates your destiny in order to heal is to have an healthy relationship and an healthy partner

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✨ ICONIC placements post for y'all 😍🤞🏼 enjoyyyy ✨

💥💋 Everyone is iconic in different ways but with same knowledge 💋💥

💥💋 I hope you all have a good day full of good moments with the people you love 💋💥

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With love, Harmoonix 💋