#the World of Luxury Chocolates

[topteny]

Top 10 Luxury Chocolate Brands in the World 2023

We all love a cheeky chocolate bar now and then, but have you ever indulged in the world of luxury chocolate? Today, we’re unveiling the creme de la creme, the “top 10 luxury chocolate brands in the world”. Ever wondered about the most expensive chocolates? Read on, mate! From ancient sweet treats to the most … ... Discover More @ https://www.topteny.com/luxury-chocolate-brands/

[champagnexowishes]

[asgoodeasgold]

It's World Chocolate Day 🍫. To celebrate, I am re-posting the link to this fun Matthew Goode & luxury chocolate video.

Click on the thumbnail ⬆️

📷 My edit from Ellen von Unwerth for Interview Magazine (May 2006) (matthew-goode.net)

[violetrainbow412-blog]

A fair payment [W. W.]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]

some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)

“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.

The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 

However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.

“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.

Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.

"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."

“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.

Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.

“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”

“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"

"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.

Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.

“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.

"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."

You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.

Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.

“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”

“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.

Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.

Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.

“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.

“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”

“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”

“And you are a great dreamer”

“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.

“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”

“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”

“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.

“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"

Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.

A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.

"What's that?"

“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.

You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.

At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.

You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?

“How does it taste?”

“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”

“A special and secret ingredient”

"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”

“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”

You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.

“We could say yes”

“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.

A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.

“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.

As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.

[azure-cherie]

|𝑃𝐿𝑈𝑇𝑂 𝐴𝑆𝑃𝐸𝐶𝑇𝑆 |

What does Pluto represent?

It represents regeneration, metamorphosis, to change and become into something new , it represents innermost feelings, what have you discarded, thrown locked away , it can show where your blockages might be , and acknowledging them and healing them will lead you to embody yourself more , the core step of regeneration is acception so accept yourself for all the darks and lights and greys they will show you your own soul beautiful, empowering, unfearful.

This post is based on what's observed if it doesn't resonate please check other placements 🌷 This post can be read for tropical as well as vedic astrology however in vedic the outer planets don't matter as much .

Tw : I have tried to be honest and some stuff can be triggering please know that these are general observations

Masterlist paid services

Sun 🌞

Conjunct: These people go through a lot early on , like rejections, rumours that their kindness is fake , as they get older they get famous for a new look of theirs for example, someone maybe known for being a chocolate boy when younger but they age like fine wine as they get older , they like to take major risks in life . Their energy stays hidden from people who don't appreciate it in a way they will only embody their true self when they're truely appreciated . Their inner child is oftentimes locked and can be accessed and healed through breathing exercises, sunbathing, helping out poor children or lost souls.

Trine : They are known mostly for having a profound balance in what they do , like a beauty with brains type of vibe , they get famous for things they do authentically , are you ready to show yourself to the world if yes it will take you for all that you got , now you choose . A good placement for bombshell beauties , they are known for their unique looks eg : Angelina jolie, grace kelly , really revolutionary.

Sextile: They have a very experimental fashion and with every look of theirs , their outlook towards life changes , change in styles give them growth . Might be kind of control freaks and perfectionists but they actually work best in chaos and unpredictability gains a lot for them. Men with this are known to be very brave and powerful. People with this take challenges and criticism very well and use it to their advantage .let go of the mentality that society will only love you when you have all of the best things , infact the people who love you will love you regardless.

Square: These people literally have cults , their views are so strong that only people who really want to believe and deal take them , they will throw your triggers at your face. Believers of tough love , they might be a little too misunderstood, it takes time for people to get through their layers . You may think , here finally i know this person, but you'll be shocked about how much more they have to offer .

Opposite: These people have a lot of internal struggles , they often choose the wrong people to trust , fame isn't the best thing for them , a quite luxurious happy life is something they are content with . They have a very sophisticated face , they have a look of I'm satisfied but watch me do more kinda face . They are often famous for their aesthetic choices . Tw : fame may lead to early death , unless they learn to navigate it .

Moon 🌙

Conjunct: People have too many views about them and their mental health, they may suffer from a lot but you don't have to remind them , they already know and are working. They have a great spectrum of emotions and can be well known for writing their innermost thoughts. Intuitive and good at channeling and connected to their daimon. Divine inspiration always leads them . They have a very enticing and captivating face . Sometimes their speech is confusing, but they are trying to do good for you , might be a little rough at times.

Trine : They are intellectual and can provide anyone with sufficient motivation to do something. Good at telepathy and communication. They hold the power to influence people for good and bad . Have an easy navigation about their emotions. Some people might hate or be jealous because of how well they can navigate their triggers.

Sextile: They are soft and pure hearted , oftentimes known for their activism and support all the people around them with open hearts , it's a good placement for psychologists . They are known to persist despite all the hurdles around them . They like punk rock , and like to speak on dark topics for the welfare of society . Liked by many because of their authenticity .

Square : They like to mainly stay away from social media , as too much presence leads to people building wrong assumptions about them . They have revolutionary and conflicting views about things . These people regret not taking the right action at the right time . Can turn out to be manipulative and self sabotaging .

Opposite: They can be narcissistic, too absorbed. Though they introduce new trails of ideas , their speech is oftentimes too extreme and unacceptable. They are well known for their work . Known for their sad personality they feel things really deeply and are often confused about their own emotions. They have deep voices. People can really relate to their cries for help , they just need to have peace with themselves, and know that not everything shouldn't be known by everyone.

Mars ♦️

Conjunct : makes one a visionary for change , sometimes destruction. They have violent control of their emotions. Feels isolated initially which they turn into super power and channel it through their art and daily life . They can give great advice on just about anything, people trust them but also fear them .

Trine : hates to be ignored , when someone disregards them they get in moods of ignorance . Likes attention. They attract men who are a bit passive aggressive. Good at calisthenics , a lot of people consider their body to be a piece of art . Prone to knee injuries.

Sextile : common placement for royalty and fame after marriage ( rich powerful men ) . The people with this placement need to learn to love themselves, can be too fixated on others to love them which in turn creates a void, when they are developed , they enjoy themselves a lot , a very nice business mind and can give a good sense of life and the game of it . Lowkey reminds me of Shera .

Square : They like boyish clothing, can be stuck in scandals for example : Mila kunis for her age, courtney for the m*****r of Kurt, Kristin Stewart for cheating . They have a great sense of confidence , people try to copy them a lot . Usually they are trend setters in rare sectors . They tend to have a pull for life and the purpose of it but are confused often .

Opposite: Gives one strong sense of justice , however at times it could bounce back on them , for example they raised their voice against some injustice, it indeed hampers their image . Being a mediator is a peaceful case for them but if they choose to go for their heart that is true, they experience turbulence , initially until they realise life is all about give and take . Might give you a square face and lean body .

Venus 🦪

Conjunct : god knows you know about the deadly charm they exude , when Venus is conjunct pluto every step that you take towards healing and facing that is coming towards you , you are blessed in beauty ( how don't ask me try ) you become so self assured and so much more confident, they also have an air of knowing a lot even though they are still learning holy shit the grasp they have upon us .

Trine : These people can really turn their hurt into their power , they strive to get something in life, they know that whatever happens they can get out of it, so beautifully reminds me of the phoenix , rise like a beautiful song .

Sextile : you're intense you're full of depth and beauty, they have deep philosophical and in the core know that money cant buy all happiness but it's essential for their survival, they know how to strike a balance in life and really are the masters of their own fate

Square : Venus and Pluto forming squares gives one a drastic drive to be their authentic self to accept themselves in all their forms be it good bad or weird they aren't afraid to go through the little deaths in the self discovery of finding themselves again and again . They have many aha moments as they are always learning something new about themselves.

Opposite: this placement could bring internal struggles about looks and money , they think they can't manifest money but it's already written, these placements agree for you to accept them and work with them for your benefit. However this could also lead to them having a god complex and a feeling that they can do no wrong .

Jupiter ✨

Conjunct : These people are one of a kind very wise and you know those kinda people who give great advice because they have f*****d up in real time so with all they have gone through they try to live the best lives for themselves and everyone around them , these people are also very lucky in gambling, lottery and stock market .

Trine : blessed in marriage and business with people who see themselves in their true aura and still choose to love them. These people are dominating and they know what they want , don't like people correcting them too much.

Sextile : with a trine in this position one might go through this thing of being bad or fluctuating with money , once you have a lot other time you're blaming yourself for spending too much but be assured that no matter what , what you lose you will earn it back again too . They like to help the oppressed and the outcast .

Square : when in square you really go through the challenging times , the key to why you're great is because you can always self discover yourself again that's why the people around you see you in such a light of a leader , you're like a hierophant to the lost people because you found yourself again .

Opposite: you might feel unlucky that your luck doesn't work in your favour but her we talk about the solution so the thing is you're meant to work alright this pretty much like working on a child , you have to love your inner child so much so truly . you work hard for the benefits they work a little late but they def work c'mon it's with jupiter ain't no way jup ain't blessing you.

Mercury 🖊️

Conjunct: they know that the emotions they have good or bad are a result of innermost issues , very aware of their problems and solutions . Makes one a very good person to go for advice . Good in the logical sector , they like to chill or spend time reading stuff. They study or seek mental stimulation in times of distress

Trine : they can bring out their innermost desires easily through art and literature, healing when it comes to skin is fast for them , their brains work in a very result oriented manner , they think about the consequences and possibilities before doing something drastic . Makes one a lover of fiction of all kinds .

Sextile : They really find inspiration in the things most people don't see . They pay attention to the things most people ignore and find a way to use it to get a hold of information. These are the people with a variety of information in all sectors ,though conjunction and trine gives the intelligence, they choose to restore more as a built mechanism to enchant people

Square: this gives a hard time accepting this for what they truly are might lead to some anxiety and adhd issues , this could make one scared of changes . Early age bullying could be seen but with time , the youth of mercury and the resilience of Pluto makes one a visionary, someone who knows so much.

Opposite: might have a hard time to channel logic , though their emotions are alright . Might fall for fake promises and they have to work on their people pleasing tendencies. This gives one a hunger to do better in life , eventually they see that all that their mind is feeding them isn't true and they can always do better than what they have been taught .

Saturn 🪐

Conjunct :makes one a very disciplined person , they strive to work hard . You know the lana lyric " I'm doing it for all of us who never got the chance , and all my birds of Paradise " like wise they work hard so everyone around them can be happy and healthy, they make great people to bond with if you wanna succed in life and are looking for like minded people.

Trine : they are very hardworking towards what they want very goal oriented people. One thing i have seen is they can never work unless their work space is really clean , an organised view of things make their mind work better . People see them as someone who can be stiff at times , you can sometimes let loose is alright and appreciated to enjoy life .

Sextile : This works kind of like Saturn retrograde, the initial obstacles remain while Saturn gives the bad later in life when one has proven worthy to have something . Since life has thrown away them a lot of times they learn to be really humble , and try to assess all the possibilities before being sad about something. They understand that life is what you make it.

Square : might have a hard time following routines , they blame their luck a lot for having problems . When they get into healing themselves they have to deal with a lot of intense inner conflict and they might not take it very well , however to have a strong mind one has to deal with this tw might fall into depression. They come out stronger than ever knowing the power of free will .

Opposition: they believe rules are meant to be broken and i believe though this is opposition and might be malefic but being with Saturn and Pluto this gives one a very idgaf mentality which it turns out good for most times as one doesn't spend too much time contemplating. Might ignore their problems at times . But once in life the urge to get their life on track will occur and they will set things right for themselves. They want what they want by hook or by crook .

Uranus 🪻

Conjunct : They orchestrate changes, they are potent in telling people why they should do some things and why some things will bring them the better , they can really motivate people to live life for themselves. Usually they have strong sense of justice and remain very grounded .

Trine : They are free spirited, charming people , one thing about them is they can really see what others don't they can really put up the themes regarding what's beautiful and what's ugly and bring it to the world , work really hard to bring about equality in the society .

Sextile : This is a placement for the psychics healers and mystical beings , they learn that their position in the world is to heal and through their consistent efforts they heal themselves as well as others . They might find themselves in a state of dilemma sometimes as they are always energized with new ideas , they learn to channel it eventually.

Square : people with this can be a little stiff and scared about changes , they want things to be the same but to realise life's all about changes and how good one does to cope with it . These people are also very good at keep people on their toes. They guide themselves back to themselves. With this placement you don't loose your sense of self.

Opposite: A lot of people have their eyes on them and every move they make so they feel anxious and try to avoid changes . This placement can make one a control freak but if you choose to have faith in yourself and flow sometimes in life you will see the beauty of things that aren't forced , changes are necessary, cultivate the courage it requires to change .

Neptune 🌀

Conjunct : makes one a good artist , bestows beauty , other worldliness . Your dreams make so much impact in you daily life . Manifestation is your power you make it work for you all the damn time . It could bestow good healing powers and career in the therapy sector of all kinds. And this gives so much mystery to people.

Trine : They find very creative ways to channel their energy, might make one a bit lazy . They can work their emotions in a very creative way and achieve great things in life on the basis of their belief systems . Also good at predictions and reiki and astrology.

Sextile : These people are always full of surprises they have so much to give to the world , often they can come off as delusional but eventually they prove everyone wrong by getting all they want . However to warn the laziness if given a chance to grow will grow, so avoid it and go make the life you deserve

Square :. They have bizarre dreams , they aspire for a dreamland and seek ways to make the world a paradise , this in positive sense as they work hard to do things their way . Their homes are always so pretty and decorated . They can make anyone relax and calm down from the chaos . To truly grow in life they have to move with wisdom and have to accept all changes and chances with bravery.

Opposite : tw , this could lead to some sort of depression, addiction or inner conflicts , they seem and feel lonely or left out , they are great artists but their minds might be a little dark place to be in . To channel this energy properly is one great thing to live with the darkness and transmute it into light is great . Be sure of what you want and never ever bow down to what is trying to bring you down

I hope you enjoyed reading this post 🫂thank you so much, please consider reblogs and feedback it helps .

Suggestions for any post are open through the ask box

Have a great day/ night 😚

[writingforstraykids]

THIS CHAN?? I WENT FERAL???!????

anyways 🤭 imagine you taking chan and him forcing you to look into the mirror behind the bed as he absolutely destroys your sweet little cunt😼

Ohh believe me, that pic made my thoughts run wild already so thank you!! Your request hasn't left my mind all morning so yeah...this happened real quick😂🖤

Right here with you, always

Pairing: Chan x femReader

Word Count: 1915

Warnings/Tags: fluff, smut, p in v, unprotected sex

A/N: Hope you like it, love🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©writingforstraykids 2024-

male!version here

The cobblestone streets of Milan seemed to sparkle under the golden hues of the early evening sun as you and Chan made your way through the city. Milan was pulsing with life, its vibrant energy matching the excitement in your heart. Chan had invited you to join him on this glamorous outing, blending the worlds of high fashion and intimate togetherness.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, admiration blooming inside you. He was dressed in a blue shirt that highlighted the warmth of his eyes and complemented his dark hair. Chan suggested dinner at a small, elegant restaurant known for its secluded ambiance and exquisite Italian cuisine. Over plates of creamy risotto and perfectly aged wine, you shared stories and dreams, his laughter blending harmoniously with the soft notes of a violin playing somewhere in the background.

As the sky deepened into a velvety blue, Chan took your hand, leading you out into the enchanting night. Milan at night was a different kind of beautiful; the lights of the city reflected in the gentle ripple of the canals, the air filled with the subtle aroma of blooming jasmine. Walking through this cityscape with Chan, you felt as if you were part of a living canvas, every step painting a stroke of memories in your shared story.

Eventually, the night led you to his hotel, a place of refined elegance. Inside, the world quieted down to just the two of you. Chan guided you to the sofa in his suite, a soft, inviting piece that seemed to echo the plush luxury of your surroundings. As you settled into the comfort of the sofa, he pulled you gently into his lap, a smile playing on his lips.

“You look so beautiful tonight,” you whispered, your hands tracing the lines of his muscular arms, feeling the strength that lay beneath his soft shirt. “This blue shirt… it’s perfect on you. It makes your eyes look like chocolate; deep and endlessly sweet.”

At first, Chan blushed, a shy smile curving his lips as his gaze flickered away. It wasn't often that he heard such open adoration, even from you, his partner. Yet, the honesty in your voice and the warmth in your eyes encouraged him to accept your compliments. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, his own confidence growing with the realization of how much you needed him in this moment.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured, his voice a soft rumble against your ear. His hands were gentle but firm on your back, making every nerve in your body sing with a pleasant tension. The room around you seemed to fade, the sounds of Milan's nightlife a distant echo to the intimacy that unfolded between the two of you. “Love how pretty you look in that dress,” he told you, hands fondling up your thighs and below the skirt. “Love how your body always searches mine,” he confessed, biting back a soft groan as you pressed down against him.

His lips met yours in a fierce kiss, hand shooting up into your hair. You kissed back eagerly, grinding down against him with soft, needy sounds. Chan's grip on your hair tightens, his hips chasing yours with a low groan.

As the kiss deepened, your senses overwhelmed by the gentle yet insistent passion between you, the world outside seemed to vanish completely. Chan’s hands moved with a tenderness that contrasted and complemented the growing intensity of the moment. He was skilled, knowing exactly how to make you feel cherished and desired all at once.

Your panties met the floor as Chan lifted his hips, shuffling his pants down enough to free his aching dick. He made quick work of preparing you, stretching you out with his fingers and kissing down your neck hungrily. You sunk down on him soon, moaning out loudly as he stretched your fluttering walls just right.

Chan's hands found your hips, steadying you in his lap as he started thrusting into you. “Fuck,” he whispered needily. “You feel so good, baby girl,” he told you, setting a fast pace.

You matched his rhythm, your movements fueled by the shared desire that connected you. The heat of the moment intensified, your bodies moving in sync as you rode him, each thrust deepening the bond between you. Chan’s eyes were locked onto yours, the intensity in his gaze making you feel both powerful and utterly vulnerable at the same time.

“Chan, please,” you whispered, your voice breathy and filled with raw emotion. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice a mix of passion and reassurance. His grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts growing more urgent. “I’m right here with you, always, pretty girl.” You hid your face in his shoulder, embarrassed of the weak sounds he pulled from you with each thrust. Chan's hand sunk into your hair, pulling you back up. “I want you to look at yourself,” he said, nodding at the mirror wall right behind him. “Want you to see how pretty you are like this.”

“Channie,” you whined softly but did as he told you. “Fuck,” you whimpered as his pace fastened, making you bounce on him.

His grip on your hips was firm as he guided you up and down, his thrusts growing more insistent with each passing second. The sight of yourself in the mirror, bouncing on his lap, your dress hitched up around your waist, your face flushed with pleasure, was almost too much to bear. The raw intensity of the moment made you feel exposed yet profoundly connected to Chan.

"Do you see how beautiful you are?" he murmured, his voice a low, guttural whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "Do you see how perfect you are for me? Only for me?"

The combination of his words and the image in the mirror heightened your senses, your body responding to him with an urgency that bordered on desperation. Your hands clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you rode him harder, the rhythm of your movements becoming frantic.

"Yes, Chan," you gasped, your voice catching in your throat. "I'm yours."

Chan's eyes never left your face, his gaze filled with a mix of adoration and raw desire. "Good girl," he praised, his hands guiding your movements with a steady, unrelenting pace. "I want you to feel everything, baby girl. I want you to feel how much I need you."

His words pushed you closer to the edge, your body trembling with the intensity of your impending climax. "Chan, I'm so close," you moaned, your head falling back as the pleasure built to a crescendo.

Chan growled softly, reaching down between your bodies and playing with your clit. The touch sent shivers up your spine, making you arch into him with a loud, whimpery moan. “Such a good girl,” he moaned, thrusting into you harshly, feeling his own climax creeping up on him.

“Please, Chan~,” you almost sobbed, a little overwhelmed by all the pleasure coursing through your body. “Need to - please.”

"Let go for me," he urged, his voice thick with emotion. "Let go, pretty girl. I've got you."

With a final, powerful thrust, you shattered, your release washing over you in waves of pure ecstasy. Your cries of pleasure filled the room, mingling with Chan's own groans as he followed you over the edge, his body tensing beneath you as he found his release.

You collapsed against him, both of you breathless and spent, your bodies trembling from the intensity of the experience. Chan's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as you both came down from the high.

"You did so well," he murmured, pressing soft kisses to your hair. "So beautiful, so perfect."

You snuggled closer to him, feeling a deep sense of contentment and love. "Thank you, Chan," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. "For everything."

He smiled, his eyes softening with affection. "Always, baby girl. Always."

The world outside the hotel room was a distant memory, the night in Milan a backdrop to the profound connection you shared with Chan. As you lay in his arms, the city lights twinkling outside the window, you knew that no matter where life took you, moments like these would always bring you back to each other.

-

Later, after you had both cleaned up and settled into the luxurious bed, the quiet intimacy continued to envelop you. Chan's gentle touches and soft murmurs of affection filled the space between you, making even the simplest moments feel special.

"Do you remember our first trip together?" Chan asked, his voice a soft rumble in the darkness.

You smiled, recalling the memory fondly. "Of course I do. How could I forget? It was magical."

"It was," he agreed, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. "But this... tonight... it's even better."

You turned to face him, your eyes meeting in the dim light. "Why do you say that?"

"Because we're here together," he replied simply, his voice filled with sincerity. "Because every moment with you is better than the last."

Your heart swelled with love for him, and you leaned in to kiss him softly. "I feel the same way," you whispered against his lips. "Every moment with you is a gift."

As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you knew that no matter what challenges or adventures lay ahead, you and Chan would face them together, your love growing stronger with each passing day.

-

The next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You woke up to the feeling of Chan’s fingers gently tracing patterns on your back, his touch a comforting presence.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice still husky with sleep.

“Good morning,” you replied, turning to face him. His eyes were warm and filled with love, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Chan leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. “How did you sleep?” he asked when he pulled away.

“Perfectly,” you said, your heart swelling with happiness. “How about you?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in a long time,” he admitted, his smile widening. “Being with you always makes everything better.”

You snuggled closer to him, savoring the peaceful morning. “I feel the same way,” you confessed, feeling a deep sense of contentment.

As the morning progressed, you both took your time getting ready, enjoying the relaxed pace of the day. The streets of Milan called to you, promising new adventures and memories to be made. But no matter what the day held, you knew that the connection you shared with Chan would remain the most beautiful part of your journey together.

-

Walking through the bustling streets of Milan once more, hand in hand with Chan, you felt a profound sense of gratitude for the love and happiness you had found. The city seemed to sparkle with the promise of new experiences, each moment adding to the rich tapestry of your shared life.

Chan squeezed your hand gently, his eyes reflecting the same joy that filled your heart. “Ready for another day of adventures?” he asked, his voice filled with excitement.

“Absolutely,” you replied, smiling up at him. “As long as I’m with you, I’m ready for anything.”

And with that, you both stepped forward, ready to embrace whatever the day had in store, knowing that together, you could conquer the world.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

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[yandere-daydreams]

tw - afab!reader, non/con, implied drug use, breeding kinks, obsessive/delusional behavior, gojo talks about his ex during sex and you can't change my mind. happy valentine's day <3

“This is my first Valentine’s with somebody to celebrate with, y’know.”

Satoru’s slow, melodic voice was just barely outpaced by his idle movements – his hips rolling lazily against yours, each thrust more languid and lethargic than the last. His blunt nails dug into your skin where his hands had your wrists pinned over your head, and somehow, he’d managed to turn the feeling of satin sheets against your back into something rough and cutting. The taste of chocolate and bitter wine clung to the inside of your mouth, but you shouldn’t have been drunk enough for your thoughts to be this clouded, this muddled. A few hours ago, you’d been sure that amount of wine could ever get you into bed with Gojo Satoru, and yet, here you were, suffering silently underneath him as fuck you like he had all the time in the world.

“I mean, there was Suguru, but he wasn’t really the romantic type. I’d be lucky to get a box of chocolates, n’ I was still the one handing out most of the affection. To little thanks, of course.” Were you in his bedroom? You had to be. This was definitely his bed, and with your head lulled to the side, you could see scattered tea candles littered over dressers and bedside tables, forgotten clothes left in crumpled piles on the carpeted floor. You might’ve been wrong, though. When he wasn’t on campus, Satoru lived in a luxury apartment – the best money could buy. Luxury apartments didn’t have bars over the windows and locks on every door. “Not that I mind spoilin’ you,” he backtracked, his voice taking on the faintest notes of a teasing inflection. “It’s just—It’s nice to feel appreciated, sometimes. Suguru was always the selfish type. I’m sure you’ll be a lot sweeter with me, though.”

One of his hands fell away from your wrists, soon reappearing at your chin. Taking you by the jaw, he eased your head back, forcing you to face him properly. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, let alone a proper blindfold, and even in the dim light, his star-bright eyes were almost unbearable to meet. You tried to jerk out of his hold, to straighten your back, but your body refused to respond, your limbs little more than dead weight and numbing static. The only part of yourself that you could feel was your pussy – soaked and hot and vice-like around his cock. You wanted it to stop, to go dry, to make this as unpleasant for him as it was for you, but his public bone scraped against your clit and instead, you clenched around him. A low groan bubbled past Satoru’s lips, his eyes fluttering shut as he bowed his head and nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “Already bein’ sweet with me,” he babbled, now partially muffled by proximity. “Just wanna be my little sweetheart, huh? Wanna be good to me?”

His pace picked up, his hips starting to move against yours in earnest. The force seemed to knock some intangible block out of your throat, and suddenly, little whines and whimpers were flooding out of you, cracked moans trickling past your lips in little, stunted hiccups. You tried to spit something coherent out, to tell him to slow down, to get off of you, to stop, but your tongue was too heavy and your lips wouldn’t cooperate and all you managed was a string of pained gibberish, dented and beaten by pitiful, dazed sounds. Satoru only cooed in response, nipping at your collarbone, the curve of your neck. “So, so good for me.” He drew back, leaving just enough distance between you to slot his lips against yours. His tongue raked over yours, and by the time he pulled back, he was breathless and you were dazed beyond any hope of full consciousness. If he was bothered by your glassy eyes, though, your slack features, you couldn’t tell. He was smiling when he pulled away, his expression nearly as gaze as your own. “Hey, baby…”

If you were able to, you would’ve screamed.

“If I knock you up, think we can do this again next year?”

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Top "Glow Up" Tips & Habits To Become The Best Version of Yourself

Prioritize the Holy Trinity: Nutrition, Movement, & Sleep. Following a whole-foods, plant-based diet with vegetables and/or fruit at every meal and limiting processed foods is one of the simplest ways to improve your overall health. Drink plenty of water, have any necessary supplements (like vitamin B12, vitamin D, omega 3s, etc.), and reduce your consumption of sugary, alcoholic, or caffeine-loaded beverages. Try to incorporate at least 30 minutes of walking and/or a simple 15-20 workout into your everyday routine. Make getting a full night's rest (usually 7-9 hours for most people) a non-negotiable in your life.

Practice Radical Self-Acceptance. Fully embrace your personal values. Get comfortable with your authentic desires. Define and set goals for yourself in every area of your life.

Nourish Your Body, Mind, and Spirit Consistently. Eat a healthful diet (enough food without overstuffing yourself), sleep and move enough throughout the day, and continue learning and educating yourself on current events, your industry/career field, art, culture, history, world languages, etc. Practice mindfulness and self-care activities. Honoring your sexual needs. Giving yourself at least one rest/reset day per week.

Cultivate Sustainable (and Personally-Fulfilling) Routines. Your sleep schedule, work/school schedule, workout schedule throughout the week, social and self-care time, date nights, time for your hobbies, errands, cleaning, and relaxation. Make appointments with yourself to empower you to fulfill all your daily tasks and activities to ensure you can work and play without burning yourself out in the process.

Set Boundaries. With your friends, family, work-life/professional network, romantic and sexual partners, and yourself. Understand your emotional, physical, and energetic limitations. Communicate them clearly, compassionately, and unapologetically. Cut toxic people out of your life. Avoid codependency like the plague. Nurture your healthy and supportive interdependent relationships regularly.

Learn What You Enjoy. Ensure To Incorporate These Products, Routines, and Relationships Into Your Day. It can be a piece of dark chocolate and a favorite T.V. show, a long evening phone call with a loved one, a hot bubble bath, or any other small luxury that gives you genuine pleasure and adds some necessary joy to your day.

Check In With Yourself Regularly. Pivot When Necessary. Self-improvement, goal setting, relationship building, and cultivating unshakeable self-love/life satisfaction takes time, experimentation, trial and error, and tons of self-reflection before you get it right in any area of your life. Be honest with yourself on what's work, what's not, where to remain consistent, and what areas of your life would benefit from a change.

[mykuup]

Λ𝘋 𝘓𝘐𝘉𝘐𝘛𝘝𝘔 (toward pleasure)

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My Masterlist

Summary : Marriage is a fragile thing, like the roman citizens’ opinion. A rumor is heard that the Emperors are still virgins.

And scared for the future of Rome and it’s greatness, everyone is shaming the power as boys can’t rule the big city.

So the Empress will call for your help, forcing you to make a choice between honour and duty.

wc : 6.8k (I know I said around 2.8k on my poll but... 🤷‍♀️)

Warnings : No spoiler from the movie // SMUT // fluff // angst // cheating //oral (f receiving) // masturbation (m receiving) // unprotected piv (it was Antiquity, wrap it irl guys) // loss of virginity // virgin!Geta // soft!Geta // married!reader //  kinda non con at first? // afab reader (but no description)

A/n : Well, well, well… It seems like I was starving as hard as you all guys about him because I… ahem got carried away 👀

I am FERAL his character and I can’t wait to see tiktok edits, fanarts and fic about him. I need my feed to be flooded by his ginger hair and chocolate eyes. Pleeeeaaaaaaaaase 😭😭😭😭

Anyway, I hope you will enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed writing it!�� No proof read so every mistakes you would spot is my own as I can’t see shit anymore 😅🧡

Taglist : @byronking @stardancerluv @preparedfruit @userchai

(feel free to dm me if you want to be added/removed from the taglist 🧡)

You’ve always lived in the palace, but you weren’t the lucky one owning it. From the day you were born, you roamed the same corridors as the royal family, knowing you would never become a part of their world. Your father served as a cook, your mother as a loyal handmaiden, and you—at just four years old—became another fixture of the Emperor’s household.

That was the same year Empress Julia gave birth to her second son. While she nursed the future of Rome, you began to work and achieve small tasks. Yet Julia, ever kind-hearted, allowed you moments of reprieve so you could play alongside her sons. Your join laughter echoing through the marble halls making her smile with tenderness. And for a fleeting time, it felt as if you belonged here.

But childhood innocence is something fragile, and it suddenly shattered when Emperor Septimus Severus left Rome for battle. His sons —Caracalla and Geta—began to change. Their bond frayed in their father’s absence, giving way to bitter rivalries and arguments, that spilled into the halls, their harsh words cutting through the air in front of servants.

They still softened a bit when they saw you. The boys, so cruel to each other, grew gentler in your presence, their voices dipping low as if you held the power to quiet the storm. By the time, the gap between your lives widened, your days consumed with the duties of a servant. But even so, their glances lingered. You weren’t a child anymore, but a beautiful young woman—your features refined and your presence magnetic. Their teenagers’ eyes betray the stirrings of something deeper as they notice the curves of your figure and the softness of your lips. And perhaps, they envied each other for noticing you first.

Everything changed when their father died on the battlefield. Septimus Severus was sent to Eboracum to claim the land as a part of the Roman Empire, and he wanted his sons to join him in learning how to fight and seeing what it was like to win a battle. But fate decided otherwise, and after the tragic death of Septimus, Caracalla, and Geta returned to Rome as Emperors. From that day, the jealousy, and cruelty between them grew more and more evident. As their mother tried her best to make it look like a healthy and happy family who could be trusted to rule Rome, the Senate, and the servants knew what was truly happening within the palace walls. And then, rumors slithered outside the golden doors and the luxurious gardens, and the citizens of Rome began to amplify everything they heard.

You weren’t living in the palace anymore as you had married a fabric seller several months before the brothers’ return. But you heard about them as soon as they were back in Rome, and every rumor you heard was more horrible than the last. You knew Caracalla and Geta, but you didn’t want to believe they could tear each other’s throats apart in front of everyone. You were scared. You were scared for your parents who were still working there. Scared for Rome and its greatness, and scared for their mother, Julia. You remember how kind she was and how deeply she loved her sons. 

One day, as you were shopping in the dusty streets of Rome, you heard a familiar voice calling your name. You turned around, and your eyes widened with happiness when you saw who was calling.

‘Mother! What are you doing here?’ You both hugged each other tight, happy to meet under the midday sun.

‘Let me look at you; you’re so pretty!’ she said as she took your hand to make you twirl on your feet. It’s been a while since you haven’t seen your parents, the palace wasn’t open for citizens and you weren’t part of the servants anymore. When you look back at your mom, you raise a brow, wondering why she suddenly looked so serious. ‘Is there somewhere safe to talk?’ she asked, her smile faltered a bit.

You took her hand and led her to your little house right outside the city center. Your husband was away, buying new fabrics in the countryside. After the long walk, you poured a glass of wine for your mom and asked her why she was there.

‘My sweet child, the Empress asked for you,’ she simply said, and your eyes widened in shock.

‘What are you saying?!’

Your mom continues, ‘Julia asked me to reach out to you. She needs your help with one of her sons…’ The way she trailed off her sentence made you freeze in place.

Your brain tried to make sense of what she was saying, and finally, you understood. The rumor. Every Roman citizen was whispering about the emperors and their behavior, but over the past few weeks, a particular rumor had started circulating the streets, and it was a harsh one.

How could a boy rule our great city?! He’s not even a man, just a spoiled little boy!

‘Mom, what are you truly asking me?’ you enquired, scared of her answer. But she got up and took both of your hands in hers. ‘Come back with me to the palace and talk with the Empress, that’s all.’

You sighed. ‘It sounds easy when you put it that way. What about my husband?’ Your mother sighed in return, knowing too well why you were worried. She looked at you, ‘Please, she’s desperate. And maybe if they see you around, they’ll stop fighting for a while, like—’. You cut her off, ‘Mother, we’re not kids anymore. They’re cruel, brutal human beings. We were never friends anyway; it was just work. It always has been…’

Your mother sighed. ‘You’re right.’ She let go of your hands and finished her glass of wine. ‘But Julia has always been good to us, and as a citizen of Rome, you have to answer when your Empress is calling for you.’

You sighed, knowing your mother was right, and that couldn’t go against the Empress’s command. You looked at your mom, grabbed her arm, and the two of you left your little cottage to walk back toward the palace.

You remembered this marble floor too well. The scent of fresh flowers and exotic fruits was still lingering, a sweet souvenir of your years spent here. It was late in the afternoon, and your mom let you wander into the palace as she needed to get back to work. She knew you would remember your way between all those doors and corridors. As you were heading to the Empress’s quarters, you heard the servants chatter and laugh, like they were making fun of something.

You cross the long hallways, passing by Caracalla’s side of the palace. The brothers were now living in different parts of the palace as they weren’t really getting each other. Their mother tried everything to ease the build-up of tension between her sons but nothing could change their minds. You take a turn before crossing Geta’s hallway and walk until you reach a big golden door watched by two centurions. One of them opens the door for you and you walk into the Empress’s room.

Golden light filtered in from the high, narrow windows of the Empress’s accommodation, casting long shadows over the marble floor. The room was opulent yet stifling, filled with the silent weight of power and expectation. As you clear your throat, Julia slowly turns away from her gold mirror, her dark eyes reflecting worry and a glimmer of resolve. 

‘You’re here,’ she murmured, her voice steady but laced with an unspoken relief. She rose from her seat to greet you with a hug, as you had always been part of her world. ‘Gods be praised your mom finds you!’ You could see her eyes sparkling with hope and a big smile was enlightening her face. But you wanted to be careful and not raise her hopes too high.

‘Your Highness, my mom told me—’, she gently cuts you off. ‘Oh please my dear, you can call me Julia, it’s not like you're a stranger in this palace.’ You smile and you continue as she offers you a glass of honey wine. ‘Julia, my mom told me you needed my help. I’m here to listen to you and do my best but I’m not sure I’m the one you’re looking for.’

She sighed and walked toward the little balcony. She looked at the flowers underneath, enjoying the last rays of the dying sun, and she whispered your name, ‘I’m pretty sure you heard about the rumors.’

You hum, feeling the pain it causes to her. ‘I’ve watched you all grow up within these walls. You became a very beautiful woman and my sons became Emperors.’ Her gaze softened when she turned to look at you again. ‘And as much as I tried my best to raise them the right way, I’ve failed. And now everyone in these damn streets is insulting our family…’

‘Julia, you didn’t fail as a mother. You didn’t fail as being the Empress of Rome!’ You affirm as you join her on the balcony. ‘They were children when they lost their father, this could have messed up something in their mind…’

You stopped yourself here, already regretting how wrong it came out. But the Empress knew too well that their sons—only one truly, had a problem, and you were kinda right. She exhales, taking your hands in hers and looking straight into your eyes. ‘One of them is still a child in the citizens’ eyes…’ Your eyes wander into hers, trying to understand what she is talking about. ‘So I need a favor from you, something delicate, involving you and my son,’ she paused to let you process. Your eyes widened in shock when you finally understood what she was implying and fear flooded you. You swallow hard, trying to find the right words.

‘Julia… I can’t do that, I’m married and—’ she stopped you. ‘That’s why I’m asking you. I know you would be perfect for that. And I know that he trusts you, even if you both haven’t seen each other for a long time.’

You were completely taken aback and before you could retort something, she continued. ‘I wish I could ask you that as a friend, but duty is making me ask you as the Empress. He’s my son and the Emperor of our great Rome. Citizens have to trust him and enemies fear him. As long as he remains a child in a golden robe, no one will be afraid to stand up to him. Caracalla needs to get away from the power and I’m already working on it, that’s why I need you to meet Geta.’

You feel a wave of relief when you understand you will not be coldly tortured by Caracalla tonight. The oldest was the more tortured, acting like a child not capable of thinking by himself. He was the one who craved for violence and wanted to hurt the maximum of people, not caring about feelings. Geta was cruel too but when you think about it, it was maybe because of his brother…

‘Julia I—’

‘I’m not asking to marry him, even if I would be pleased to have you as the new Empress. I just need you to teach him love.’ You snort, but guilt flooded you when you saw the despair in her eyes. You let her hands go and paced back into her room, pinching the bridge of your nose. It was unreal, yet you couldn’t let down the Empress's demand.

‘One time. And no one must know.’ you simply said, and suddenly you could see in Julia’s eyes the reviving hope for her son and for Rome. 

The moon was rising on the warm summer night as a servant finished putting some flowers in your hair. The Empress let you take a bath and borrow one of her silk dresses. You were stressed because you had no idea how you would bring Geta into this. It was quite delicate and not a usual subject to talk about with your Emperor…

The hallways felt bigger around you, the walls incredibly high. The marble was cold as ice under your bare feet despite the warmth of the air. You took a deep breath and swallowed hard as you stopped before Geta’s door. It was massive. Gold lions and flowers were craved in the heavy wood. But no one was keeping it. The Empress asked the centurion to go away for the night, pretending Caracalla needed to be watched over. You didn't even knock on the door, pushing it with all your strength and letting it close by itself once you were inside. The slam of the door made Geta startled and he stormed out from the other room to see who was intruding on his space. But he stopped in his tracks when he saw you. His clenched fist loosened, and the rage that was invading him let its place for something else. Surprise and defiance.

‘Good evening Your Highness.’ you simply say with a little smile. You wanted to look comfortable enough to gain his trust so he could, maybe, relax a bit and get into his mother’s plans the easiest way possible.

Geta checked you in from head to toe, taking his time. He noticed the several flowers tangled in your curls, how your skin was a little bit flushed, and how your chest was rising heavily. He took a second look here as the valley between your breasts was on display, the delicate silk only covering a little of your body. When his eyes trailed down, he could see two huge slits letting your legs and thighs appear under the torchlight. His jaws clenched and he tilt his head, waiting for you to talk again. You cleared your throat as he wasn’t helping you at this moment. The way he detailed you made you uncomfortable but you couldn’t walk back now. You take a step closer, your eyes locked into his. Instinctively, Geta took a step back. You stopped and tried to relax; you needed him to trust you for this, even though he was still ignoring why you were here in the first place.

‘Geta,’ your voice soft and laced with something he couldn’t picture yet. ‘Do you remember me?’ You wanted to go easy on him. You knew how tense he was because of his brother and now that you were here anyway, you could take all the time you needed. You could see his shoulder relaxing a bit but his hands were still clasped tightly on his robe.

‘Why are you here?’ he suddenly asked and you were surprised by his voice. It’s been so long since you haven’t heard him. He hadn’t a really low voice but he sounded like a man already. You wanted to avoid this particular question at all costs, but it was obvious that he would have asked after all those years…

You decided to tell the truth in your own way. ‘I’m here to help you.’ You walk toward him, ignoring how he was pacing back every time you were getting close. ‘I can see how tense and on edge you are. I’m simply here to help you release all the steam.’

Geta arched a brow at your statement but before he could say something, his back hits the wall behind him. You were still approaching closer and it felt like he was missing air right now as he was trapped between you and the stone wall. For the first time in his entire life, Geta was unsure of himself, not knowing how to behave as he couldn’t read the situation. You stop right before him, letting only a few inches between you two. Geta’s eyes flitted to your breasts then to your eyes and you almost missed the soft pink rising on his cheeks.

‘If you want to talk, I can listen. If you want to scream your lungs out, I’ll be there to bring you honey wine.’ You took a step back to give him some space and turned around to wander into his room. ‘I just want to make sure you’re feeling better once I leave this place for good.’ you add with a smile as you pace yourself in the second part of his quarters.

His bedroom was luxurious, heavy embroidered curtains were draped on each side of the window, letting the soft hum of the breeze come in. Carpets made of fur were all around his large canopy bed. Several pillows made of wool were adorning the linen and gold sheets. As you were detailing your surroundings, Geta’s soft voice calling your name made you turn around.

‘Are you here because of the rumors?’ His flat tone made you feel guilty. You could see the sadness in his eyes as he was looking anywhere but in your direction. You could feel his shame and the silent rage that was storming inside of him. He was boiling and you knew he would be capable of killing everyone who would mock him for that.

‘Geta,’ you called and his eyes snapped to yours. ‘I’m here as a friend.’ You weren’t sure it was the right word until you saw the same sparkle you saw earlier in his mother’s eyes. Hope.

‘Friend?’ he repeated, not sure you pronounced it. You smile and nod. ‘You’re my only friend.’ he added and your heart broke at the statement. You weren’t truly his friend, you never were. But at this moment, you would agree to be whatever he needed to feel better. You had sympathy for him, you didn’t know why and didn’t want to look further into it. He swallowed hard, and slowly walked toward you, as if afraid you would disappear if he was too brusque.

‘Why don’t you sit on the bed with me so we can talk?’ you say as you pat the part of the bed beside you. The young Emperor sat, avoiding his body to brush yours. He dared to take a look at your face and lips before looking down as if he was ashamed. ‘I don’t want to talk.’ he responded, his voice wavering.

‘It’s okay’ a soft smile playing across your lips, your hand coming to rest gently on his shoulder. You felt him tense immediately, his cheeks turning red and his eyes wide. ‘There’s nothing to be ashamed of,’ you assured him. ‘Everyone begins somewhere and—’ he rose to cut you off but you knew him too well. ‘Everyone, even emperors and empresses. So it would be my honor to show you if that’s what you wish.’ He nodded quickly, his eyes darting the floor again, and you could see his hands tense with anxiety. You reach out, letting your fingers gently brush over his rings and knuckles. ‘It’s alright Geta,’ you whispered. ‘Let me guide you. We’re friends remember? You can trust me.’ 

The young man lifted his gaze to yours, and you felt his whole body ease under your calming touch and voice. You pause, giving him time and space to relax before drawing him a bit closer. His breath was short and you could almost feel his heart beating fast. ‘I…I won’t pretend that I know how any of this works I—no one ever explained it to me and…’ Geta was stumbling upon his words, but you squeezed his hand to bring him back. ‘Start by letting yourself breathe.’ you instructed, your voice warm but firm. ‘The hardest part is to simply allow yourself to let go. Start here.’ You placed his hand over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your fingertips. ‘Take in each breath, slowly.’

Geta looked at you, searching for mockery or judgment. But all he could see was your genuine smile and the reassurance in your eyes. And like that, his breathing softened. You notice that fear leaves his eyes, replaced by a curious vulnerability. He watches you with quiet awe as you continue to speak.

‘It’s not about what you don’t know,’ you told him, your tone soothing. ‘It’s about being here with someone else, and sharing yourself—whatever that means.’ You lift his hand to feel his fingertips lightly on your cheek. ‘See? Nothing to fear.’

A hint of relief flickered over his features as he let out a nervous laugh. Geta let his shoulders and his whole body relax as he grew more comfortable thanks to you. ‘You make it sound so simple,’ he admitted his voice barely a whisper, as if afraid to disrupt the moment. He was already so lost in you, all he wanted was for this night to never end.

‘It is,’ you say softly. ‘When you stop thinking about what’s expected, it becomes simple. Just follow your instincts, and let yourself… feel.’ Your words were gentle as your hand still guided his, showing him how to move without hesitation.

Gradually, Geta’s movement became steadier, his initial awkwardness fading. He was more confident as you kept your eyes locked in his. His hand shyly travels from your jaw to your temple, softly brushing away a fallen lash. You hum in encouragement, sensing his confidence growing and you offered a smile as he slowly took the lead, your presence anchoring him. His other hand cupped your other cheek as his thumb brushed your plush lips. He looked at you with something like wonder, a smile tugging at his lips. ‘I never knew it could feel like this,’ he confessed, a hint of eagerness in his voice.

You genuinely smile at his reaction and, without second-guessing, your hands landed on his shoulders to pull him closer. You slowly close your eyes. ‘This can always feel like this if you find the right person,’ you murmured as you felt his breath on your lips. And suddenly you froze. Pictures of your husband coming back to you. It was just for a second but Geta felt your body goes stiff at his touch. Concerned he did something bad, he pulled back and walked away from the bed. ‘I—did I hurt you? Have I done something wrong?’, his face and tone were only panic. 

‘No, you’ve done nothing wrong I just…’ You weren’t sure it was a good idea to tell him what was on your mind at that moment. He trusted you, and he was doing great. You couldn’t jeopardize everything. You shake your head to empty your mind and join him in the middle of the room. ‘I’m sorry,’ your voice a whisper. Geta hesitated for a bit but his hands finally found your body again. He felt like he could burn your delicate skin if he wasn’t cautious. He calls your name tenderly. ‘I know I’m not the right person for you,’ he said, referring to what you said earlier. ‘But you are to me. And it feels like I don’t have to be afraid of anything as long as I’m in your arms.’

You were surprised by his sudden softness. ‘Oh Geta,’ you sigh as you let your fingers tangle in his ginger hair. Your lips graze his mouth and you could hear him taking a deep breath. ‘Close your eyes,’ you simply say right before kissing him. The young man melted into your touch, your lips tasting divine. And at this time, he never thought he could be closer to the Gods. You pulled out gently, a soft chuckle escaping your lips when you saw his flushed face. ‘Fear isn’t needed here, Geta,’ you said softly, your fingers still massaging the back of his neck. ‘In this, you don’t have to play the part of the emperor. Just be yourself. Let go of what you’re expected to be.’

Geta’s chocolate eyes widened at your words, and he felt a strange sensation wash over him—relief, liberation even. He hadn’t realized how heavy the weight of his title felt until it was lifted, even for one night. With a quiet exhale, he met your gaze, a new light in his deep brown eyes.

‘And who am I, here, then?’ he asked, his voice low. ‘Who am I, without the crown?’ You gently pick up the crown of golden leaves that was adorning his head and put it on the little wooden table near you. When you came back to him, you cupped his face between your hands softly. ‘You are simply a man,’ you replied, your voice gentle. ‘A man who’s learning, one who can make mistakes. And there is no judgment here. Just a fact.’

Slowly, Geta allowed himself to let go. He leaned in closing the gap between you to kiss your lips again. You hum as his hands begin to explore your body—tentatively, at first, but growing steadier with each gentle touch. You could feel the heat radiating from his body and you couldn’t ignore the pleasant sensation growing inside of you. A soft moan escaped from your mouth, encouraging Geta even more. His lips traveled from yours to the delicate skin of your neck and you couldn’t help yourself. ‘Good,’ you whispered. ‘Trust your instincts, you are doing wonderfully.’

Geta felt the rush of your words pulse through him, your assurance a balm to his anxieties. And for the first time in his life, he felt his body reacted to yours. It was a strange sensation, like his blood was boiling. But it was sweet and warm. He kept kissing your neck and slowly started to trail kisses down your shoulder and your arm, his fingers finding the pulse at your wrist, drawing soft circles. He took your hand to put a chaste peck on your knuckles and spoke again. ‘I would like to take this off. I—I want to see you,’ he asked, looking directly into your eyes. You could see his chest heavily rising underneath his toga as he was anticipating your answer. You gently nodded and started to undo the pins at your shoulders when he stopped you. ‘Please, let me do it for you.’ You bite your lip, your eyes never leaving his.

Geta took his time, pulling out every golden pin, detangling every knot of fabric to take away the soft silk from your body. He let it pool at your feet, kneeling at the same time before you. You step off and stand before him. From up here, his eyes were almost pleading like a lost puppy. 

But what he was witnessing was something else.

You were a Goddess blessing him with your light, your warmth, and your beauty. He let go of your dress and gently took your ankle. You were balancing on your other leg when he started to kiss your forefoot. One of his hands crawled up to the hollow of your knee to secure you. And then, he left a trail of kisses from your ankle to your tibia and kept crawling up until he reached your inner thigh.

Never once did his deep brown eyes look away from yours.

He enjoyed seeing how you were reacting to his touch, and Gods blessed him he loved to touch you. His fingers were gently squeezing the fat of your thigh until he felt the beginning of your buttcheek. Your breath was as heavy as his, but the eagerness you noticed in his look was something you’d never seen before. You tilt his chin slowly to make him stand again and shiver when both of his hands land on your hips, his many rings a cold contrast with your heated skin. You pull him as you walk you both back to his large canopy bed. ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he said softly. ‘Always been.’ His newfound confidence turned you on even more and you kiss him again before taking off his toga. The different fabrics were heavy, the wild silk and cotton embroidered with gold threads pieces of clothes joined your dress on the marble floor. And as he did, you took your time to detail every inch of his body. 

His skin was as white as milk, light freckles and moles sparkling his entire being. You could see the subtle of his muscles and a light blonde happy trail under his navel. When your eyes traveled south again, you gulp. This was definitely not the body of a boy before you. No, you were with a man. It was fierce, standing up by itself, the tip already angry red glistening with precum. It looked a bit thicker than what you saw before and some veins could be seen at the underside of his shaft.

Suddenly self-conscious as you were silent for a while, Geta hid himself. ‘I—is this enough?’ he enquires, worried it wasn’t what you would expect. You snap back into reality and look at him, your face mixed with surprise and lust. You strut back to him until his cock was pressing against your belly. The contact made him shiver and you kissed him at the corner of his mouth. Geta hisses in pleasure when you take his grit in your hand. ‘You’re more than enough. It’s… it’s so heavy…’ You moan as you were slowly pumping him.

His mind was racing, his fingers on your hips softly bruising your skin. He wanted to feel every inch of you, kiss every part of your body. Geta wanted to please you, and he wanted to show you the same tenderness you had shown him. ‘Please,’ he whimpered between kisses. ‘I want to taste you better.’

Shivers run down your entire body at his words and you let yourself fall on the mattress, pulling him down with you. Geta was lying above you, keeping his weight away from you as he was resting on his forearms on either side of your head. You let your fingers drift through his hair, bringing his neck closer to your mouth. You kissed his jaw before licking his neck until you found his pulse and suck it gently. He moaned and he instantly wanted to try this on you. He mimicked every gesture, every caress, and the sounds escaping your lips were music to his ears.

Geta was definitely a fast learner. And with a little bit of guidance, his hands were brushing your sides while he was kissing the valley between your breasts. Still following his instinct and his arousal, he gently licked and niped at your nipple, his gaze still locked on your face. Your eyes were closed and your cheek looked like peonies. Without thinking, one of your hands grab your other tit and started to knead it, chasing pleasure. But Geta saw it and replaced your hand with his. You moan his name as your body reacts to his. You arched your back and your legs opened up a bit more, letting Geta lay flat on his stomach between your parted legs. He could feel the soft curls of your pubic hair tickling his abs, and all he wanted to do was discover this new part of you. So he slowly goes down, letting wet kisses on your soft belly until he stops between your center. You quickly rose on your elbows to watch him in awe, eyes wide, fear and uncertainty on your face. ‘Geta you don’t have to—’ but he cuts you off gently. ‘I told you I wanted to taste you. Please…’ he begs, his doe eyes hypnotizing you, his dark pupils even more blown away than before. You couldn’t say no to him when he was looking at you like this. He was like a starved man, a lost believer who finally found his sacred deity.

Geta brushes his lips on your inner thigh as you gently part your legs for him. He inhales your scent, invading his senses. He was already drunk in you. Hesitantly, he started to kiss you, not really knowing where to start. You chuckle at the sensation as he first missed the spot. But you reposition yourself slightly and when he kissed you again, his lips landed right on your clit. A satisfied sigh left your throat and Geta kept kissing you, amazed by how warm your body was there and how he could feel your pulse here. Eager for more, he let his tongue dart at your skin and—‘Gods be damned,’ he spoke. ‘You taste so good, it’s even better than sweet wine…’ You wanted to giggle at his statement but he took you by surprise as he dived back between your legs, now licking between your fold and making out with your pussy. His mouth was all over you and it felt like he was swallowing whole. His hot breath was like a soft caress as his muffled moans resonated through your entire body.

Instinctively, your hands reach for his head, fingers tangling and pulling at his ginger locks, your hips bucking up to chase your own pleasure. But you remember it wasn’t about you and you suddenly felt a bit ashamed that he was the one pleasuring you right now. ‘Ge—Geta please,’ you called at him softly. He detached himself from your core and looked at you. He was beautiful with his pupils all blown out by desire and his glistening chin. ‘Is something wrong?’ he asks, a hint of uncertainty in his tone. But you reassure him. ‘Just come here’, you simply say and he crawled back to face you. You kissed him gently and shifted your position so he was now lying on his back. You straddled his thigh to sit right under his waist and take a look at him. Your fingers traced his slender features, trailing down his chest and abs until you reached his blonde happy trail. Geta took a sharp breath in anticipation. You could see he was aching to be touched, your fingers almost burning him with the most delightful fire. You start to pump him again, his velvety skin smooth in your palm. He whimpers as he lets his head roll back to the pillows. ‘Does it always feel like this?’ he asked between gritted teeth, pleasure already flooding him.

You giggle seeing Geta so desperate under your touch. But it wasn’t mockery. You were sincerely mesmerized by how responsive he was and how much he needed someone to be gentle with him. ‘It’s only the beginning,’ you whisper as you lean in closer to his face. ‘There’s more if you want to.’  His eyes snapped back at you in awe like you were saying nonsense to him. How could it be possible to feel better than he was already feeling? You tenderly caress his face and kiss his lips. ‘Is this a yes?’, you ask between kisses and he mumbles his answer like a whiny plea. ‘Pl—yes please!’ You kiss him one last time and position yourself right above him. His eyes never left yours as you were doing your ministration, his hands landing on your hips once again.

He could be used to that.

You tilt your head as a final question and slowly sit on him as he nods. Geta gasp when the head of his cock sunk in your pussy. You were hot, wet and it was so… so soft. You kept sliding down on him slowly to accommodate to his size, his length stretching you delightfully. His grasp on your hips tightened, leaving bruises in its wake as you kept yourself steady with a hand splayed on his chest, your body already arching back with pleasure. Once you were fully sat on him, Geta felt overwhelmed. At this moment he thought he was dead and that you were a Goddess sent by Olympus to take good care of him. But your voice moaning his name called him back to reality. ‘How do you feel?’ you ask. And he finally dared to look where your bodies were connected. His eyes trailed from your center to your breast and then to your face. And what a view. Your skin was all flush with the prettiest pink, your nipples were hard and pointing up, your breath was short and your body was glistening under the candlelight.

‘By the Gods I—you’re so beautiful, it feels so good!’ his tone was almost desperate and you blushed at his compliment. You lean in again, both hands anchoring at his shoulders. ‘Is it okay if I move?’ you ask, and he nods eagerly. ‘Do whatever you want to me.’ His lips crashed on yours to kiss you. And you swallowed his moan when you started to roll your hips slowly. Every sigh, every whine of pleasure escaping from his lips brought you closer to the edge. The way his cock was brushing that sweet spot inside of you, the way he was kissing you… it was infuriating.

Geta wrapped his arms around your body like you were his only lifeline at this point. Your pussy was so tight around him, gripping his girth like a vine, clenching from time to time when he started to move with you, syncing to your rhythm. Your name stumbles from his mouth on repeat, encouraging you to keep going. A deep growl comes out from his chest as he sucked at one of your nipples, the pleasure way too powerful for him to hold back. 

But a flash of lucidity strokes you and you gently push him away on the bed. You couldn’t risk getting pregnant with a possible heir for the empire, or worse, a bastard. And you were already married anyway… 

‘Geta,’ you whispered as you sank one more time onto his cock. ‘We can’t…’ But the emperor was lost in the pleasure and he kept moving to chase his release. You kissed him hard to distract him and pulled him out entirely from you, your hand replacing your now aching pussy. You were missing how full you were with him inside but you had to do it. You squeeze him hard, pumping him faster and faster until he comes, seed spilling on his stomach as he cries out your name.

You didn’t even try to join him, your release already long forgotten. You had done what the Empress asked you to do. Geta was satisfied so you could now leave this place forever and hope for your husband to never discover the whole story. But the man under you had other plans. When you tried to reach for a piece of cloth on the floor, he gently grabbed you by the arm. ‘Wait, where are you going?’ he asked, still a bit high from what just happened. Guilt started to set in deep in your chest. You were thinking about your husband, his kindness radiating, and the love he had for you. But at this moment, it was like he never existed, everything had been swept away by the man lying next to you. Geta had always been in your life but you never thought he could be like this. The softness of his touch and the tenderness of his words to you were something you could never have imagined. Yet, there he was, looking straight at you with a glimpse of panic in his eyes as you were ready to fly away.

‘Nowhere,’ you sigh. ‘I was just reaching for something to clean you up.’ You offered him a little smile and he blushed when you nodded at the mess you both made on his stomach. You carefully wiped away his cum before throwing away the cloth. ‘I never knew it could feel like this,’ he confessed, his voice filled with wonder. He lifted his hand to cup your cheek and his deep brown eyes locked with yours. ‘You—Thank you for everything.’ He kisses you chastely before laying under the heavy covers.

‘I’m glad I could help you, Your Highness.’ you respond and Geta’s heart broke. His name wasn’t on your lips again, and the sudden loss of intimacy felt like a spear in his chest. You saw the disappointment in his eyes so you decided to stay for a moment. You crawled back to the bed next to him, his face lighting up in an instant. His arms hugged your waist and body, keeping you as close to him as possible. ‘I wish we could stay like this forever,’ he mumbles against your forehead as he was slowly drifting off.

After a while, when you were sure he was deep in Morpheus’ arms, you gently untangled yourself from his embrace. You picked up your dress and silently walked away from Geta’s bedroom. You checked on him one last time, his chest heaving softly. ‘I’m so sorry’, you whispered as you leave his quarters, and you didn’t know if it was for him, for your husband, or for yourself.

[gguk-n]

Luxury in Love's blind spot (Arthur Leclerc x fwb!reader)

[Set up- Reader is the grand-daughter of one of the richest man in the world. Maybe Arthur and the reader are a bit of a red flags in this.]

Summary- It’s never a good idea to get into a friends with benefit situation with an attractive man. You’ll only have your heart broken

Ending

[Reader's POV]

The first time me and Arthur met was on my birthday. I was out with a couple of friends in Monaco when I met Arthur in a club; I was a little tipsy and he was cute and too attractive to not take home for the night. I was drunk and horny and Arthur was willing to entertain me.

That night Arthur and I, ended up in my bed with some of the best sex I've ever had. This turned into a proper agreement; I was literally flying back to Monaco just to fuck Arthur with some of the most expensive gifts I could get my hands on. It was how I showed my love and appreciation, I told myself. I had become exclusive to Arthur. This felt like those stupid books where the reader falls in love with her friend with benefit when they explicitly said they shouldn't. But what was I supposed to do. The only person in my life that seemed to genuinely care about me was him. He would text me asking if I had food, or how the classes were. Sometimes, I wished I was doing my Masters in Monaco and not the UK but the flight was quite short. So, I would constantly be back in Monaco whenever he was around.

————————————————————————

Arthur was in the UK due to the race. I was very happy that we would get to hang out. I had tried to invite him over to family gatherings, as a friend obviously since I realised that I had started liking him. But he had always been busy due to the race or for some other reason. I felt a little disappointed but what could I do. He had apparently never mentioned me to his family; I only found that out when I went to meet him at the hotel when he was in the UK.

I handed the keys to my Porsche, to the valet and walked towards his Hotel room with a large bouquet of flowers, a box of his favourite chocolates from Italy, a new Rolex and a separate bag with some more chocolates for his brothers. I pressed the button to his floor on the elevator which took me there. I walked towards his room; knocking the door. A shocked Arthur opened the door. "Hi!!" I greeted, I wanted to hug him but my hands were full. "Why did you come here? I told I'd meet you at your place." Arthur muttered. "I wanted to surprise you." I exclaimed. "How did you get my room number?" he asked. "You told me silly, a couple days back, remember. Now, my hands hurt. Can I put this down?" I asked. Arthur reluctantly let me in. I saw both his brothers sat on the bed and chair. I placed the stuff on the table and greeted them. They looked at me confused. Arthur stepped in and told them I was a friend and that we would be leaving now. I handed them the bag of chocolates I got for them. "This is for you, as an apology. I'm gonna be stealing Arthur away for a couple days now." I giggled. "And these are for you, darling." I continued, placing the bouquet in Arthur's hands. He pulled me away, "Why'd you get all this?" he questioned. "I always get you stuff when I visit." I mumbled. "Well, you didn't have to. Let's leave." he dragged me out without even greeting his brothers good bye.

--------------------------------------------------——

The day of my graduation is when shit hit the fan. My family couldn't make it because my younger sibling was graduating and a Master's wasn't even a big deal they said. I asked Arthur if he could come but he was busy too. So, I spent my graduation alone. Until I got a call from Arthur the next day, so instead of flying back home, I flew to Monaco.

We hung out at Arthur's place getting drunk. "You don't usually get this drunk." Arthur commented. "I just wanna forget everything" I slurred. I reached out and pressed a kiss against his lips. "Let's get you some water." Arthur said getting up from the sofa. "I only need you" I said while pulling him back down. Arthur laughed, "sure, but only when you're sober." I straddled his lap while cupping his cheeks, "Please, don't leave, like everyone does." I begged with tears in my eyes. "I'm not going anywhere." Arthur whispered. "Promise?!" "Promise" he replied. "Because I love you so much" I mumbled. "You don't know what you're saying" Arthur sighed. "Drunk words are sober thought, babe." I replied. "Let's talk about this when you're sober." he suggested. "I don't think I'll have the courage to tell you this when I'm sober. I love you Arthur Leclerc, I have for a while. Sorry for breaking the agreement. I just couldn't help falling for you when you were so nice to me. But I know you don't feel that way. I've seen the way you are ashamed to be seen with me. That's the reason you've never invited me to your races or introduced me to your family or met mine, matter of fact." I rambled. "I-I-I" Arthur stammered. "It's ok sweet heart. I would be ashamed to be seen with me too." I let out a dry laugh. The lump in my throat was bigger and my eyes hurt. "I wish you loved me." I sighed "If you ever truly cared for me for even a moment then you'll reject me. So that I can finally move on from you." I suggested. "I'm sorry, I can't love you the way you want me too." Arthur said. Those words pierced my heart like a knife, I wiped away the tears that had started falling from my eyes.

This whole conversation had sobered me, I got up and started grabbing my stuff. "Where are you going?" Arthur asked. "Home, Arthur." I replied. "It's so late, stay the night." he requested. "It's ok, my assistant will come pick me up. Don't worry about me" I said while stumbling out of the door on call with my assistant.

[redvexillum]

Laughter and the warm, heady aroma of rich Cajun spices twirled in the air, wrapping around your senses like a comforting blanket on a crisp Louisiana evening. The slight dip in temperature heralded the arrival of autumn, a season that changed the vibrant landscape into a tapestry of oranges and red. Through the dusty window of Alastor’s cottage, a stark red light from the setting sun streamed in, illuminating the man himself: tall and lanky, with slightly curled brown hair that danced around his ears, and warm brown eyes that sparkled with mischief.  

“My love,” he said, stepping closer, his voice thick as honey and just as sweet. “I must say, I am absolutely ecstatic that you finally decided to join me this time.” 

His proximity stirred a mix of emotion within you, and you wrinkled your nose as a heavy metallic tang pierced the air – a scent so out of place amidst the inviting spices and laughter.  

With a playful smile mirroring his, you leaned in, feigning innocence as you whispered, “You know, it’s a bit challenging to ignore that…unusual bouquet you’ve got going on. What’s that, a new cologne?” 

Alastor chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that never failed to send a shiver down your spine. “Ah, that would be my secret ingredient,” he teased, the corners of his mouth curling into a sly grin. “I’ve always had a penchant for the hunting arts, you see. A little blood adds flavour, don’t you think?” 

You pushed aside the insidious whisper in your mind that noted how this man always seemed to carry an undercurrent of something dark and unsettling beneath his expensive cologne. You glanced over the pile of vibrant, red, raw meat on the counter – a testament to his hunting prowess.  

The meat gleamed under the soft glow of the cottage’s flickering light, an odd sight during these trying times of the Great Depression. But then again, Alastor was a popular radio host, and with fame came a certain indulgence in life’s luxuries.  

“Luxuries indeed,” you murmured under your breath.  

Suddenly, warm hands framed your face, pulling your gaze into the depths of Alastor’s whisky-brown eyes. His devilish, charming smile ignited a warmth in your heart that spread like a wildfire. At that moment, you were captivated by a man you knew you were forbidden to love.  

He was a man whose world was miles apart from your own.  

Yet… 

Yet, here you were, hidden among the thick, twisting trees of the bayou, far from prying eyes. Here, perhaps, the love that others labelled as deranged might find a place to breathe freely.  

Looking at him, a weight of guilt squeezed your heart. "I’m sorry I kept cancelling at the last minute, Alastor, I –" you began, your voice trembling with the heavy, suffocating shroud of unspoken truths. But before you could finish, his gentle finger pressed against your lips, absolving of your crime of almost abandoning him.  

“It’s quite alright, my dear,” he replied, his voice smooth like dark chocolate, rich, thick, and silky.  

Your words of further apologies were lodged inside your throat. No matter what you said to him next, it wouldn’t change the truth of your current situation.  

You and him had different social standings, but moreover, there was the looming shadow of your engagement to another man, the one your parents had chosen for you. The one who was, by all appearances, a good match, a respectable future governor.  

“Let’s just enjoy this moment, just the two of us, darling,” he said, his voice resonating like the warmest notes of a jazz melody. He was truly born to be a radio host, whose words could make even the most stoic hearts flutter – if only they could overlook the darker undertone of his physical attributes.  

Reaching up, you clasped your hand around his, pressing your cheek against the warmth of his inviting palm. It felt like a small rebelling against the world, against your parents, a taste of freedom, a taste of love you longed for – hungeredfor.  

“Okay,” you murmured, inhaling deeply, the earthy scent of the bayou mingling with the intoxicating scent of the sharpness of his cologne. You exhaled slowly, releasing the anxiety and guilt that once clung heavily to your heart.  

Just for this moment, you wished to forget about propriety and the expectations of being the perfect wife-to-be. Just for this moment, you wanted nothing more than to be with Alastor, the man who adored you with all his heart, just as you adored him in return.  

“Now,” he said, slipping his hand away from your face and spinning back to the pile of bleeding, red meat. “I’ll handle this, and if you could be so kind as to peel the potatoes, my darling!” His voice was chipper and jovial, a perfect contrast to the weighty atmosphere that usually surrounded you. You watched in admiration as he wielded the knife with a master that only came from years of experience – his fingers moved with precision and confidence.  

Humming in agreement, you reluctantly turned your attention to the bowl of potatoes. Picking one up, you grasped a small knife, its blade glinting under the softer light. You began to peel the rough skin away while suppressing a giggle as you recalled telling Alastor that you’d never been taught how to cook. Alastor had looked at you as if you grew a second head back then.  

But, you had never told Alastor why you weren’t taught how to cook like other proper homemakers. After all, your sole purpose was to be given away like a prized horse to an affluent man. Your only duties were to remain beautiful in his arms and bear his children.  

You quickly pushed away the bitter feelings that crept up your throat and stung your nose. Instead, you focused on the memory of Alastor being shocked at your admission. “We simply cannot have that! I shall schedule us a date where I can track you my favourite recipe – my mother’s jambalaya!” He had said with his eyes twinkling with glee.  

The soft humming of a tune brought you back to the present moment, the sweet melody from Alastor floated through the air. You lost yourself in the rhythmic task of peeling the potatoes, focused on the repetitive motion of the knife gliding through the skin.  

But then, in a moment of distraction, your clumsy fingers slipped. The sharp edge of the knife sliced through your delicate skin with a sudden sting. “Ah!” You yelped, instinctively pulling your hand away as searing pain bloomed from the cut.  

Crimson rivulets flowed quickly down your fingers, staining the pristine white flesh of the potato. Food was a scarce luxury in these times, and you hated the thought of wasting it so carelessly. "I’m so-" you began, but the words faltered as you felt a wave of dizziness washed over you. Seeing blood had always made you feel a bit queasy.  

Alastor turned sharply, concern etching itself into his features. “What happened?” He asked, rushing to your side, the joviality of moments before replaced by urgency.  

“It’s nothing,” you assured him, though the pain pushed with every heartbeat. “Just a little cut.” 

He took your hand gently in his, his warmth enveloping you like a balm against the pain. “Let me see,” he said softly, his voice dropping to a soothing tone, lulling you into a state of momentarily calm.  

“Oh, my!” Alastor’s voice purred, his grin wide, yet his brow furrowed in playful concern. “My little clumsy girl, whatever will I do with you?” He sighed in an exaggerated tone, a mix of teasing and amusement lacing his words.  

You rolled your eyes, exasperated but endeared by his over-the-top theatrics. "Yes, yes, Alastor. I’m quite clumsy. As I’ve told you many times, I’m not exactly well-versed in the art of cooking–" 

Your sentence was cut short by a sharp intake of breath as his hand closed around your wrist, his grip firm but tender. He pulled your injured finger closer to his face. The suddenness of the touch sent a spark of warmth coursing through you, igniting a flush that spread across your skin.  

His eyes darkened, pupils dilated, as he inspected the cut with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. “Quite a deep cut, indeed,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, as though the sight of your blood stirred something primal within him. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and the heat of the moment hung thickly in the air between you.   

“Alastor?” You whispered, your voice barely audible, the weight of his attention making it difficult to speak. He had never touched you like this before; usually, it was your hand that sought him, your fingertips that brushed his arm with hesitant affection. This shift in dynamic left you breathless.  

With a slow, deliberate exhale, he pressed your injured finger against his lips. The warmth of his mouth ignited a dizzying mix of sensations. The pain from the cut flared briefly, but was soon overshadowed by the soft pressure of his lips, the tender heat of his breath against your skin. His lips moved, painting themselves crimson with your blood, and your heart raced, overwhelmed by the strange intimacy of it.  

His eyes never left yours as he hummed softly, the vibration of his voice sending a shiver through you. His tongue, warm and wet, traced the length of your finger, slow and deliberate, as though savouring every inch of your skin. The soft sounds of his mouth moving over your finger filled the small kitchen, a rhythm that seemed to match the rapid pounding of your heart.  

You gasped when he gently took your finger into his mouth, his tongue curling wickedly around it with a slow, languid grace. The mixture of pain and pleasure was dizzying, and you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from the sigh of him – devouring your finger, alternating between soft, gentle sucks and firmer, more insistent strokes. The sensation was maddening, leaving you teetering between the sharp edge of discomfort and the intoxicating allure of his touch.  

Every flick of his tongue, every caress of his lips, seemed designed to unravel you, to make you surrender to the moment. The air between you crackled with unspoken desire, the heat of it enveloping you both, drawing you into a world where status, propriety, expectations all dissolved into nothingness.  

Nothing mattered but the press of his lips, the warmth of his breath, and the undeniable pull that connected you.  

Heat rushed to your cheeks, an overwhelming warmth that left your skin tingling as you watched the once-proper man before you indulged in something so…raw. His moans, barely audible, danced with the soft, wet sounds of his mouth working over your finger. His thick dark lashes brushed against his tanned skin, his expression serene, almost lost in the act. 

“Alastor…” Your voice cracked, surprise and something else – something unfamiliar – swirling low in your stomach, tightening with each passing second. You shouldn’t be feeling this. The intimacy of it was unexpected, almost forbidden, and yet…you couldn’t pull away.  

His eyes snapped open upon hearing your voice, piercing through the haze that had settled over your thoughts. Your finger was still between his lips, slick with warmth. His eyes arrested you as he let your finger slowly slide out of him, agonizingly slow, the wet trail glistening under the flickering amber lights in the kitchen. His hand lingered on your wrist, gentle but firm, holding you there as his gaze traced every detail of your face.  

The familiar grin curled at the corners of his mouth, the same charming showman’s smile you had fallen for, back when you were just another listener entranced by his voice on the radio. But here, now, something was different – darker, more…animalistic. A sense of danger, maybe, or hunger.  

You swallowed, your thoughts in disarray, but you forced yourself to speak, breaking the tension. “I thought we were supposed to be cooking, but…” you paused, feeling the heavy weight of his stare, the heat of his presence. “It looks like you’re ready to devour me instead,” you chuckled, the sound weak, betraying the nervous energy thrumming through you. 

Alastor remained silent, his grin frozen in place as his eyes darkened to near black, absorbing every flicker of light in the room. There was something unsettling about his stillness, the way his expression didn’t quite match the energy that pulsed between you.  

And then, in a voice that barely rose above a whisper – smooth, low, and stripped of the transatlantic accent you were used to – he answered.  

“Perhaps I will.”   

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

[vivwritesfics]

Daddy Ricciardo

Just some Danny Ric marriage/parent headcannons. Fluffy AF

Have you ever met somebody so in love with their girlfriend that it consumes their entire being?

Well, if you're friends with Daniel Ricciardo, you certainly have

Daniel was utterly obsessed with Y/N when they were dating

He brought her along to every race and showed her off whenever he got the chance

Any Y/N fan pages were probably run by him

Daniel was obviously a man who couldn't wait to get married

Especially to Y/N

You know that bit from The Office when Jim shows off the ring he got the moment he and Pam start dating?

That would have been Danny if he got the chance on drive to survive

No, Daniel got the ring on their six month anniversary

He already knew she was the one

But six months felt like the perfect timing

He didn't propose right away

Things kept getting in the way

But then, there was the perfect storm

Y/N had just come to watch a race

She hadn't been to the last one and had hardly been on the phone to him

Danny thought something was wrong

When she came to the race, Daniel was overjoyed

But then, in the hotel room after the race, she'd gone all serious

"Danny, I've got something to tell you. But I need you to promise me one thing," she said, grabbing a hold of his hands

"Anything," he replied, utterly concerned

Y/N sucked in a deep breath, calming her nerves

"Don't freak out."

When she told him, Daniel didn't freak out

He took in the information silently

Why would he freak out?

This was going to be the best day of his life

Two little words, that was all Y/N had said to him

Two words with so much weight to them

When Y/N was done and looking ready to start crying, Daniel slipped from the bed and pulled the ring box out of his pocket

He got down onto one knee and opened it

"You've just made me the happiest man in the world. Want to make me slightly happier and marry me?"

Y/N found a dress, her dream dress

Three weeks before the wedding, that dress no longer fit

The joys of being pregnant

Sobbing, Y/N made her mother take her shopping for a new dress

Before the wedding, at the rehearsal, Daniel had said he wasn't going to get drunk

If his soon to be wife couldn't drink, then he wouldn't either

But Y/N had insisted

Her soon to be husband was cute when he was drunk

So, Daniel had a few

He had more as the reception went on

Max and Christian were there, drinking alongside him

By the end of the night, Y/N was sat at the table, hand on her bump, cheeks rosy as she laughed at Daniel

He had pulled Max in for a dance and the Dutchman couldn't say no

He literally couldn't say no, because drunk Daniel wasn't listening

The honeymoon was gorgeous, like a dream

They went to the Maldives, stayed in a luxury resort

Four months later, Y/N was going into labour

It was, quite frankly, terrifying

Fifteen hours later, Charlie Ricciardo was born

He was his fathers pride and joy

Where Daniel used to show off Y/N, he now showed off Charlie and Y/N

His camera roll was all pictures of Y/N and his son

As Charlie got older, they started taking him to the races

He had little headphones to wear as the cars went around the circuit

He'd wave (aka, Y/N would hold him on her hip and wave his hand for him when his daddy came into the pits)

Charlies first word was car

Daniel was driving at the time, during free practice

He was so pissed that he missed it

Daniel was the fun parent

He was the one who let Charlie stay up past his bed time and let him have chocolate and fizzy drinks

In moderation, of course

But then Charlie did something scary

"Mummy, I want a brother," he said

Y/N couldn't reply

She had to turn around and pour herself a glass of wine

So, he asked his father

Daniel was so happy to hear it

If Charlie wanted a sibling, he was going to get a sibling

So, Daniel brought it up with Y/N

"Danny, no," she said the moment he suggested it. "When I was pregnant with Charlie and you were travelling for work, I was struggling so much without you. I can't do that again"

Daniel tucked some hair behind her ear

"Don't worry, Angel. I can talk to Christian and get the last few months of your pregnancy off," he said. "Keep you and Charlie travelling with me until then"

That sounded amazing to Y/N

She loved her little family and it only seemed to be growing

She jumped onto her husband

"Get ready for the night of your life, honey badger"

[enhypencores]

Eat The Rich

Jay X Y/N

Genre: Romance/Angst/ Fluff

Word Count: 4K+

Warning: extremely suggestive, profanity, hatred against the rich, discusses the male gaze, violence and possession.

Synopsis: As your boyfriend, Park Jongseong, takes you to one of his high-stakes business events, you find yourself enduring the pretentious, cutthroat atmosphere of the dinner. You're determined to maintain his reputation, especially since he's trying to win the favour of a powerful chaebol. But things become hazy when the blonde chaebol's gaze lingers on you for too long.

<3<3<3<3

The large dining hall was illuminated with ambient candles and dim yellow chandeliers, an aura of sophistication and formality enveloping the expanse. Blue orchids occupied every table followed by a bottle of champagne, wine glasses and plates full of rich seafood such as smoked salmon with caviar and potato pancakes. The air was disturbingly thick with branded scents wafting off people, mixing with the smell of fish and flowers.

The massive hall suffocated you, making you clench your purse tighter.

High-society events had always sounded uncomfortable, but nothing could have prepared you for this trainwreck. It felt like a battle of the wealthy: women draped in brands you'd never heard of, exchanging fake laughs and snide remarks as they clung to their cashmere shawls, beaded with pleated gold—at least, that’s what you were told. If you had the choice, you’d never again breathe near these oblivious, high-nosed women, flaunting their lavish lifestyles, all thanks to their hardworking husbands.

They seemed untouchable, speaking the language of arrogance. They reminded you of your felines—aloof and haughty, exuding an air of superiority but ultimately ignorant.

As you sat there, dolled up in your tight-fitted dress, the thought of eating the rich lingered in your mind. You'd come across the phrase on social media and analyzed it through the lens of an unbiased journalist, but now, you couldn’t help but draw drastic conclusions.

Their world felt grotesquely split—luxury on the surface, emptiness beneath. They wore their generational wealth like a costume, but without it, they were nothing more than overgrown children in oversized suits, throwing around big words with small minds. Theatrical, pretentious, drowning in self-importance. Strip away the pretence, and they were exposed—hollow, unremarkable, and utterly unaware of how insignificant they truly were.

You desperately avoided these events. So what if your boyfriend, Park Jongseong, is one of the businessmen, featured in Times magazine as the hottest emerging entrepreneur in South Korea? A mere student of journalism, unfamiliar with the highs and lows of elitist culture, surely adds nothing to such obnoxious events.

But this time, he dragged your misfit ass to accompany him and formally introduce yourself to the crowds.

Jay was required to attend such events and ever since he told you about the women throwing themselves at him, you couldn’t help slip into an elegant dress and rush to join his side.

You paused, lips thin against the rim of your glass as you caught sight of your boyfriend in a black suit, wearing a blank expression on his face as a domineering aura surrounded him. You could tell he liked the gathering just as much as you did with the way his gaze was stoic and lips sealed.

This was the first time you had agreed to join him in such an event and you were glad you did.

He looked awfully handsome, his chocolate eyes brimming glowing in the hall's darkness. Sharp jawline set in a stiff smile and lips pink and wet from his drink as he nodded at his seatmate’s words. He was the centre of attention, not just because of his appearance but also his charming character.

Park Jongseong was the sole owner of X company, a name now included in the world’s largest food industries. Jay worked his way up the ladder despite having zero connections to big shots in the marketing industry. He worked with integrity and preserved quality in his brand. It was hard to access bigger doors in this dog-eat-dog world, but your boyfriend’s dedication to his craft and refusal to compromise on ethics bore the seeds of success.

Whilst most companies undermined him, the public seemed to appreciate his rigidity and soon he was opening up branches all over the world. Garnering praise from overseas magazines, every businessman was wary of his character. He had started at the bottom of the chain and earned his way up, struggle after struggle.

You were so proud to call him yours.

“My husband wanted to donate to the local NGO, but I was against it because we already paid for the church reconstruction. We take part in various charitable events, you see.”

How were the two situations remotely related? You wanted to voice out your distaste. Instead, you bit your tongue and smiled bitterly.

You searched for your boyfriend on the other table and noticed his curious gaze already trained on you. He carefully read your expression and immediately caught onto your discomfort, rising from his seat to approach you.

You watched narrowly as he crossed the large expanse, grabbed your hand and tugged you towards him. The five ladies on the table quickly quietened, jaw parting in disbelief as they greeted Jay in coy and shy voices. They sounded sugary sweet as if they weren’t already married; it made you want to smack them in the face with their Hermes bags.

Jay wrapped his arm around your waist, nodding at the ladies but never sparing them a glance as he led you away. You almost flipped off the flustered women but restrained yourself, knowing you couldn’t afford to smear Jay’s reputation by falling into a girly scuffle.

“You gotta pay me back for saving your ass back there,” he whispered against your ear, and chills quickly ran along your spine. You laughed at the smirk developing on his face.

“I didn’t need any saving,” you huffed, your challenging gaze daring him to say otherwise. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a soft smile, “We’ll see about that at home.”

Your stomach flipped.

Jay casually pulled you to his table and sat you down beside him, securing an arm behind your chair.

You instantly tensed up, surveying the intimidating circle of important looking people staring your way. Jay was currently sitting around huge business tycoons and their spouses.

A blonde man sitting opposite Jay caught your eye, and you froze. One of the most important men of the night, an old chaebol sat across from you, the man Jay was bidding on for future collaborations to invest in his dream project. Though nepotism was widespread, like an infectious disease in today’s world, these dinners were held to offer a chance for rising stars to socialize and build connections.

You straightened up your spine and flashed a soft smile.

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

“Oh, young love!” One of the older couples gleefully chimed, and you smiled bashfully. “Aren’t they adorable?” Jay held the woman’s softened gaze.

“How wonderful to have such a young charming man all to yourself,” a middle-aged lady, sat beside her husband, covered in an expensive leopard fur coat claimed, an envious smile straining her wrinkles.

You nodded, but Jay shook his head dismissively.

“I’ve always been the lucky one.”

You felt a wave of emotions hurl up in your chest.

Jay spent long, struggling for every minuscule opportunity, and he deserved every ounce of the success. You were merely fortunate enough to love him through it all. For him to blatantly praise you before such a crowd, it tugged at your heart and made you want to cover him in kisses.

Since you’d met him, you were certain that nothing was unattainable when a man as keen and passionate as Park Jongseong stood by your side. You were definitely the luckier one.

You wanted to throw away everything to make him happy.

“How beautiful.”

Caught off guard, you spun to the origin of the voice. The chaebol, was staring—gawking at you.

With complacency in his tone and a sickening smirk on his lips, you suddenly felt under the spotlight.

“Are you currently studying?” He slurred, his accent becoming thicker with intent.

You felt chills run down your spine as you noticed his pupils wandering to your cleavage. You shifted in your seat, feeling regretful at your choice of dressing. It wasn’t even obscene, a casual midi dress with a silver of collarbone and the tiniest hint of cleavage. Nothing newsworthy. Yet you felt putrid.

You never wanted anyone to stare at you like that. It made your insides crawl. It made you feel insignificant, demoralized and inferior.

You knew his intentions were foul, but you refrained from showing a slight hint of it in your demeanour. It didn’t matter. You wouldn’t see him ever again after tonight, and this was Jay’s only chance at securing a life-changing deal, forming a once-in-a-lifetime connection.

You gulped and smiled indifferently.

“Journalism,” you responded dryly and blinked away.

You noticed Jay’s hand clench into a fist under the table and panic rippled in your chest. You quickly rubbed at his knuckles, fear racking your head as you flashed a nervous smile.

You knew better than to tick him off. Jay would singlehandedly destroy anyone who looked at you with ill intentions. You were a witness to it once at a party.

Wasted after a university gathering, a man tried to take you home despite your continuous rejection. Your friends saw your discomfort and dialled up your boyfriend’s number, who immediately took off with Heeseung’s motorbike and arrived like a thunderstorm, knocking the man’s front tooth out. With bloodied knuckles and a scowling face, you remembered him screaming in the alleyway as the cops came to the man’s rescue.

Poor Heeseung was left stranded in the middle of a worksite drenched in pouring rain. When you asked Jay why he opted for a bike instead of his car, he said the traffic was at its worst and had he taken his car, he’d have a hit-and-run case on his back trying to get to you.

“Jay,” you muttered, your mind going blank as you noticed the awakening demon in his eyes; his predatory stare trained at the man, his jaw clenched.

You suddenly wanted to evaporate. You tried to appease him as you stroked his knuckles, your soft skin gliding against his callous one. He gripped your hand tightly but kept his drilling gaze trained on the blonde man.

“Journalism? A beauty with brains.” His eyes were hazy and tone lousy due to heavy alcohol consumption.

His eyes again feasted at your exposed skin and you shrunk into your chair, your heart clashing against your chest.

“Lower your gaze.”

Dead silence.

The smiles dropped like a domino effect as men shifted in their seats, discomfort straining their wrinkled features. The males were used to the chaebol’s indecent behaviour… some even welcomed it— what’s a few demeaning remarks towards their women if they’ll win the favour of the world’s richest man?

The blatant call out and Jay’s scornful gaze had everyone sweating in their formal suits. The tension grew thick, and your throat tightened in alarm. Your hold on Jay’s hand grew tighter, forcing him to look at you.

“I’m fine, don’t do anything rash.”

But it seemed like your plea went through him, unheard.

His tense fist and determined stare directed at the chaebol made you realize that another word from the blonde would get Jay spiralling. You had to get out of here before it was too late.

You gave his hand another squeeze.

“Excuse me, I’m heading to the washroom,” you hurriedly announced, flashing Jay a complacent smile.

You didn’t look back as you hurried to the washrooms. You planned on spending the rest of the night in the lavatory since the party was awfully disappointing.

You wanted to be with Jay but not under the current circumstances. The blonde pervert was the most influential in this field and this country, and you wanted to do nothing that sabotaged your boyfriend’s future goals.

You locked yourself in one of the stalls and sat down annoyedly.

It was supposed to be a fun night out with your boyfriend.

You didn’t know a rich party full of influential businessmen was just a pathetic battle of the egos. To think, you skipped catching up with your favourite anime for this bullshit party. You grumbled spitefully, massaging your forehead in slow circles, hoping to ease the building ache.

“Excuse me,” you heard a shrill voice call out as someone knocked from outside.

You sat up alarmed.

“Yes?” You replied unsurely.

“I think your boyfriend is outside waiting for you.”

You jumped up, your eyes zeroing as you whipped the door open.

A brunette-haired woman you recognized as the server stood before you. “You’re Mr. Park’s girlfriend, right? He asked me to check inside for you,” she smiled and stepped to the sink, resuming to wash her hands.

You rushed for the door and yanked it open.

As expected, your boyfriend was stationed against the wall, his eyes already on yours, needy and impatient. He pulled you close to him, his fingers grazing your exposed neckline as he breathed you in.

“We’re going home,” he announced against your neck.

You nodded hesitantly, aware of his turmoil. You knew your boyfriend’s instincts were borderline predatory when he suspected your discomfort; it must have taken everything in him to not stalk over to the chaebol and smack him in the face.

Jay grabbed your hand and marched out to the hall.

The hall grew painfully silent like a funeral as you made your way down the carpet. Confusedly, you looked around, noticing everyone staring. Thick, suffocating tension persisted in the air as if a fire was brewing. It seemed like everyone had something to say but they were holding back. You looked back at your boyfriend, but he marched ahead, unaffected.

Anyone you passed, you heard a brief gasp escape their chest. You wondered what had happened for everyone to be so horrified and meek around him.

Your gaze fearfully drifted to the table with the chaebol and your heart dropped in your stomach. A dark red bruise circled the chaebol’s right eye, his pupil dilated and trembling with fear.

When you both were in the car park, you pulled at his arm, a gasp ringing loud.

“Jay, what the fuck? How could you attack him?” You gasped, finding it hard to process what you had just seen. He didn’t respond, keeping a moderate pace towards the car.

“Jay, I’m talking to you!” You shrieked, voice trembling with horror.

He finally halted in his tracks and turned towards you, his eyes burning with seething anger, his fists still clenched, a bluish bruise starting to form on his right knuckles.

“We need to get out of here before I do something much worse,” he spat, staring at you like a madman, running a hand through his gelled hair, voice thick with anguish.

You felt frustration building in your chest and your eyes burned with tears.

“That deal…” Your voice trembled. “Do you think he’ll let this go? He won’t—!” You cried, your head pounding.

You clung to his arm. “Let’s go back inside and apologise—”

Jay jerked his arm free, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists. “Apologise? Have you lost your mind?” His voice boomed across the empty lot, his gaze piercing through you like poison.

“You’ve worked so hard Jay!”

Jay was adamant about establishing himself. Never losing sight of his goals, he spent a year giving his all to his startup.

He earned investments after sacrificing sleep, lunch, date nights and family dinners. His whole universe revolved around his dream; most nights, he didn’t even sleep in the comfort of his bed because of the calls he’d get from investors demanding more insight.

You loved him so much, so much that you were always supportive. His absence made you lonely, but you restrained those urges because it was best not to bother him.

You internally ached for him.

Slowly, the ache started to disappear when he came back.

After successfully earning a huge investment, everything evolved. It was like his pot of love flooded and spilt everywhere, unable to be contained. He stopped working excessively. He dropped everything to come pick you up after your lecture, sometimes even accompanying you to the library for long study sessions. He became so clingy, so needy for your presence, it drove you insane—in the best way.

“Why are you crying?” He grimaced, his gaze softening as he watched tears flow down your cheeks.

“Because!” You croaked, tone flaring with temper.

“How could you ruin this?” You screeched, your face beat red and wet as you emptied out your heart. You were so angry and frustrated; you wanted to physically shake Jay into oblivion. “After this deal, you would’ve been unbeatable!” You threw your hands in despair.

Jay huffed, his eyes wide and crazed, pinning you down, holding you captive. “You care about my fucking investments right now?” He sounded hurt as well, his voice so quiet, you could tell he was boiling.

“Yes!” You cried. “After you’ve worked so hard for it… sacrificed so much of our time for it!” As soon as you said the words, the darkness in his eyes grew tumultuous.

Jay stepped close and before you could register it, he grabbed your wrist and slammed you to the car, his arms immediately cushioning the hit, protecting you from the impact. A loud clash echoed as he pinned you beneath him, his breathing heavy, his eyes glazed.

“I’ve worked so hard, day after day, so you can stand next to me without shame.”

Thoughts racing through you suddenly grew dull… silent like a breeze in the abyss. The silence stretched until you could hear his harsh breaths echo through your frame.

He gulped down a flood of things he must’ve wanted to say, instead he cupped your jaw, caressing your face.

“You deserved someone strong and I was so pathetic back then.” His words felt like acid flowing through your ears.

“Working shifts at the grill and serving bars in the night,” his voice cracked as his hold on your jaw tightened. “It was pathetic…” he reiterated, browns in his eyes becoming liquid.

Each word pained you more than you could imagine. Your heart broke as he reminisced about your early years at university when he working minimum wage to pay for his tuition. It was around the time you were enthralled by him, the studious senior, always sat alone, at the far end of the library with his nose in some business book.

Sleep-deprived eyes, a languid smile and a date to his workplace were enough to get you head over heels in love with the man.

“Jay, I was never ashamed—how could you even think—” You felt choked up. Words seemed to have failed you.

Jay blinked back his tears. “I was unworthy, and it made my blood boil.” He traced your bottom lip with his thumb. “Heeseung hyung said I should give you up. It was an easy way out… but the thought of that kept me up at night.”

Your jaw dropped—Heeseung had told him to let you go, and he'd kept it from you.

“The fact that he even mentioned that made me sick—gave me nightmares. It was a reality check,” he growled, his breaths strained as he thought back to the memory. “That night, I decided to be worthy of you. I decided no one on this fucking planet will ever think of separating us.”

“Because you’re mine. I can give up this entire world but never you,” he whispered, and his mouth lowered, finding your neck.

“Jay, you were never any of that—you were everything I needed,” you gasped as he kissed down your neckline.

“W—Why didn’t you ever tell me?” You bit your lips, restraining the adulterous sounds as Jay’s lips pressed a trail of wet kisses before he bit into a sensitive region. His tongue slickly traced the bite mark across the neckline as he tasted you to his fulfilment.

“Because you don’t need to worry about it,” he rasped, his heavy pants taking over your mind, making you twitch and shudder in his hold.

“I’ve achieved enough to protect you,” he whispered against your skin and dropped wet kisses down to your cleavage.

“I want to rip his filthy eyes out for looking at you,” he snarled, the bitterness and rage returning. His eyes remained on yours, watching you throw your head back as he painted you a darker shade of red.

His kisses grew desperate and needy—his grip on your waist tight.

Your body reacted on its own, curling into his heated frame.

He finally leaned up and connected his mouth with yours. It was unlike any other. He was usually gentle with your mouth, calling your lips two pretty petals, but in the darkness of his anger, he was swallowing you whole. He invaded through the gap and sucked at your tongue, his neck craning to the side as he meticulously drained your mouth.

Everything felt hot, from his heavy breath to the hand digging in your waist to his intense gaze harbouring a storm; it was everything.

You felt guilty for letting him do this in a public car park where anyone could walk in and watch a show. But it also felt so euphoric, to have him feasting on you like his last meal.

Jealous and angry Jay made your stomach pool.

“You’re gorgeous for me—how dare that fucking crook stare?” His saliva pooled down your neck as he dug his teeth into your breast. A dry gasp escaped your mouth, your eyes falling shut in pleasure.

“Jay,” you breathed, your body aching with want.

Your breathy words were enough to send him spiralling. He started to push himself into you, sucking your flesh like honey would melt on his tongue.

You felt him.

He was so brutally turned on; your legs felt weak as his masculine scent assaulted your senses. He supported your waist, digging his nose into your hair, inhaling you.

You were so heated that when you heard a heel clicking against the marble floor, your mind was elsewhere, refusing to comprehend it. You were completely overwhelmed by the woody scent of his cologne, the heat of his mouth and hard centre pushing into your pelvis. It would be embarrassing to get caught, but you were overwhelmed, so overwhelmed with him.

Suddenly, you were knocked out of your trance as Jay jerked back, his gaze pained and hazy with longing. His limbs shook as his chest heaved, his body so rigid, afraid to move or he would fall to the ground.

He clenched at his hair and swore under his breath.

“Get in the car. No one sees you like this,” he ushered.

What was he insinuating? You didn’t have time to ask as he threw an impatient glare. You obediently ran to the passenger seat and jumped inside, your heart clashing against your chest rampantly.

As you caught sight of the front mirror, you realised why your boyfriend had been so adamant. He didn’t want anyone to see your messy hair, hooded gaze, flushed and painted red; you looked lustrous, turned on and oozing with desire.

Jay was beside you the next second, his forehead covered in a thick sheen of sweat and his black strands a sultry mess.

“I can’t drive. I literally can’t feel my legs.”

You threw your head back, bursting out laughing as he glared at you, his pupils dilated and still buzzing with need.

“Shut up before I fuck you in the backseat,” he threatened.

Shut up, you did.

You knew him too well to know that he would actually comply.

You watched him as he sat inhaling and exhaling, a meditating exercise he sometimes used to recover.

After a couple more painful minutes, he finally drove home and you had never seen him drive so fast, breaking all the traffic laws in the rulebook.

“Jay…” You called out as you noted the familiar apartment gate appear.

“Hm?” He nibbled on his lip, steering the wheel as he reversed the car into the garage.

“I will crash Heeseung’s motorbike the next time I see him.” And as he came to a stop, you saw him laugh into oblivion as he hauled you in his arms and hastened towards your flat.

After getting pushed into the bedsheets with a persistent boyfriend devouring you through the night, you laid on his bare chest, drowsy and exhausted, smiling into oblivion.

He looked down curiously, kissing down your spine.

“What’s got you so happy goofball?”

“I have the title for my final.”

Eat The Rich, a tedious trip into the small minds of the land’s biggest chaebols

[minkieater]

tide | khj

pairing. rich!hj x f!reader genre. non idol au, toxic relationship, soulmates warnings. substances, consumption, mental health, sexual content minors dni PLS wc. 5.5k

♫ — the broken one, qm ft. jiung “when you said that you wish the two of us could die together, i just pat your head and say i know.”

the best way you’d ever described your relationship is adjacent to a children’s movie, and for that comparison you feel wrong, but nothing else comes close. when alice fell down that hole and her entire world flipped upside down, changing everything she once thought she knew, it was the epitome of years of your life spent with him. you being alice, hongjoong being… everyone else. the mad hatter, cheshire cat, the red queen, white queen, the jabberwocky, the rabbit, he was everyone, all the time, all at once. your life, the riddles, everything but nothing making sense at the same time. there was nothing else you could possibly compare it to, two emotionally adolescent humans in adult bodies. 

neither of you had ever been angry people by nature. in fact, you had always been deemed quite the opposite. hongjoong, older and successful, a man consumed by his work but always made time for the people around him — he shows up for birthdays, impromptu get togethers, graduations, backyard parties… despite his ever growing workload, he always put in the effort to be there. and not just be present, either. he’s always been observant, even in the beginning, showing up when you least expected it. after the longest, hardest day, with flowers and your favorite food in tow, he’s always been a true partner. 

you’re not much different. the parties hongjoong always shows up to typically had you behind the curtain. planning, decorating, even picking up the tab… you’re the epitome of loyalty. devotion, creativity, passion. you’d bettered him as a person, in his work, in his relationships, in his productivity. you love to help and you love to love, you surround yourself with people who give that back to you tenfold in a heartbeat. 

in the beginning, you thrived. you worked together harmoniously, you were patient with each other, compassionate, so stupidly in love…

“would you marry me?” a starless night, on the rooftop of his ever luxurious loft. his hair is black, a cigarette between his lips, his sweet chocolate eyes the brightest light amongst the dark, empty air. 

you knew you had never answered any question with such a quickness as you did that one. you don’t think you’d even muttered the word no to him in the six months you’ve been together. 

he handed you the cigarette he knew you were craving, a habit you picked up from him and him alone. one habit you didn’t share before you’d met. his stare is intense, the gleam in his eyes is bold, it’s saying a million words yet not one leaves his rose colored lips. words you know, words you’ve said, words he hasn’t returned. but he does, he will, eventually. 

“we’re forever then,” it could be a question but it feels more like a statement, an announcement of sorts, a promise that you could never break. you had no choice in the matter, not that you needed one, not that you could imagine a life without him after so little time of knowing him. 

it made you smile through the burn in the back of your throat, a long exhale leaving your lips, gray smoke following suit. in went your solitude, out came the pact you made with him under the moonlight. like the smoke, it faded into thin air, never to be taken back. 

“we became forever six months ago,” you handed the cigarette back to him, your fingers touching for a just a moment in passing. his smile reached his eyes, creases in his skin that you would run your fingers over in the dim light of his bedroom. every inch of him, burned to memory. 

“we became forever the day you were born, doll. just took until six months ago to find me,” the tobacco was between his lips again, wrapped around the circular stick, always glossy. never chapped, never dry, always swollen and sultry. edible. 

time went on, days turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years. you initially thought hongjoong didn’t have a bad side, eternally a happy and exemplary lover. to be fair, you didn’t think you had one either. there’s a saying for that, right? you bring out the worst in each other? but they’re traits that are embedded in you. when the stars aligned the day you were born, you were gifted them, wrapped in sparkling wine colored paper and you just didn’t get around to opening them until someone fought fire with fire. 

you’d never yelled at a friend, let alone a lover, in your life. he’d never once been angry enough to remove himself from an entire room, have to excuse himself from the woman across from him because her voice took up too much space, smothered him in his own home. the one thing that kept you two linked, from the bedroom with the door locked to the couch all the way out in the living room, was how fucking obsessed with the other you were. 

it was sick, the heaviest sensation the two of you shared. lust, love, adoration, codependency, everything came right under obsession if you could even rank your feelings. most days, everything just blended together, anyways. from the moment your eyes met, really met for the first time, it was cataclysmic, the soul you knew just by his gaze that you shared. the click that linked the two of you for life. 

the air of the club was humid, wet and murky, too many people in too small of a space. you were at a sponsored event for work, dressed too classy for the place you were at, all the bodies around you covered in way less fabric. you were one track minded when it came to work — always looking upward, fighting to climb endless ranks, you could never rest. never break concentration. 

until the biggest distraction stared at you three people down, stood around the curve of the bar while you waited on your cocktail. he moved with a fluidity similar to water, a wave, an ocean as he waltzed into your space. behind you, he slipped his card down over your shoulder onto your tab before you could even reach for the cash in your purse.  

“nice play,” you glanced over your shoulder, greeted with teeth as white as snow, glistening hues of pink and blue from the dance floor cascading over the impressive structure of his face, “thank you.”

“a pretty drink for a pretty girl,” you glance down at the red cherries sitting in your cocktail, a mixture of yellow and orange sitting in your glass, mimicking a sunrise swirling around the cubes of ice.

a laugh escaped you, “i’d rate that pick up line a 7, i suppose.” 

he answers with a shrug, “anything above a 5 is a win for me. hongjoong,” his hand reaches out to shake yours and you’re taken aback, almost shocked at the gesture of a simple handshake around the bar at a more than busy nightclub. it told you more than it should, coming up on years of business under your belt, it seemed more like a proposition than an introduction. 

in that moment you saw him, you saw through him, you saw deep down inside and you couldn’t crawl your way out if you scratched and clawed your nails down to stubs. he was like you, apart of your world, higher up, even. he came from class, he came from money, he came from importance. he’s handsome, he’s gorgeous, and jesus christ he’s going to ruin your fucking life if you let him. you’d let him do anything.

your work event was long forgotten the second the two of you made eye contact, your attendance was the only thing mandatory, anyhow. a night of freedom, letting go of subjugation from your company as you spent ages with your back pressed to his front, bodies moving as one to the beat of whatever song played through the speakers. one melody after another, you don’t know how many songs have passed before you've faced him, hands around his neck, one of his legs between yours.

“you’re beautiful,” he says, noses nearly touching, wanting to curse the millimeter standing between himself and the rest of his life. a moment of pressure from you stood over his knee and he decided he’d never needed something so bad, his stomach growling with a hunger he was saving for a single taste of you. 

“yeah?” your smile turned mischievous, a dangerous game you were playing, he’d strip you down in front of the entire club, fuck you in front of every man in the building. that’s if he could live with himself letting anyone besides him see you like that, which he couldn’t, of course. your outfit left too much to the imagination, tight dress pants and a white top that clung to every inch of you. he needed to know what was underneath. he could imagine, picture you beneath the cotton, he could almost feel the soft plush of your thighs on his fingertips. 

“prove it,” was all you said and it sold him of the only thing he had left. his pride, the thing he savored, he’d usually let anyone else take the reins with him, want him first, so he could drop them without a second thought. you wanted me, i never wanted you. always the predator, never the prey, even under the gaze of his evermore. 

anyone that came before you, the several exes, plethora of playthings, he’d easily forget them, leave them all behind for a night with you. he wouldn’t settle for just a night with you, he won’t take anything less than eternity. your thin, tiny square lenses sitting low on your nose, your hair messily wrapped up on top of your head, lipstick still perfectly applied on your lips, the way you were so meticulously put together… it was a primal urge, the need to ruin it, ruin you, keep you forever, just for himself. 

you weren’t doing far off, core aching for a kiss, a touch, anything to take the edge off. something about sharing a soul meant you could see his and it stood tall and red and rippled in the wind and screamed at you to let him make the first move. he needed to lay his cards on the table, make his blood stained soul turn white, let him give himself to you before you gave yourself to him. you listened, as much as it wounded you, his glossy lips begging you to close the distance, to taste him, to hurry up and move on with eternity because time waits for no one. 

you could see his internal battle, there were several going on in the mere moment that lasted for hours. the battle of your beings, still separated not yet merged, yet still transparent for the other to see. the battle of him with himself, his pride, his masculinity, this routine he’s been performing for the past six years. your battle with him, begging him to give into you, to show you what he’s made of, to show you what color he bleeds. your battle with yourself, your self control to listen to whatever is telling you to let him give in first. you knew he would, he knew he would, it was a waiting game. 

once he said fuck it and he raised his white flag, his soul changed color as his lips tasted yours. one kiss in the middle of a crowded dance floor, overflowed enough that other people’s sweat was mixing with your own, music pumping through your veins, the world had shifted. tectonic plates couldn’t compare, couldn’t move you the way hongjoong did in that very moment. 

this combining, this merging, this tasting of his soul, the atoms that make up his very being, you consumed it all entirely. the good, the bad, the complicated, the opulent, the rough, the agonizing, you could feel all of it in him. you needed more. 

it wasn’t always like that, wasn’t always intoxicating, blinding, all consuming. the obsession was beautiful, addicting, similar to the box of tobacco you now kept in your back pocket. it translated to tenderness, intimacy, warmth, it was one of a kind. one that sparked jealousy from others, one that closed its doors on anyone who dared to peer inside. it was personal, only to be enjoyed by the two of you, never shared. no one on this fucking earth could understand you the way hongjoong could, no one could read your mind, fix what needed to be fixed before it was even broken in the first place. he was a lifeline, a savior, a backbone for you. and you were all the same to him. 

he’d never thought he could love anything the way he loves you. his music, his art, his life, he’d throw everything away if that meant one more second spent with you. you were water to him the way he was air to you, the sun to him the way he was the moon to you. in every single lifetime you know hongjoong has been your missing link, two fucked up pieces that finally finished the puzzle. when put together, everything made sense. you were complete. 

“mm, maybe a half an hour longer?” his smile is sheepish, almost embarrassed to say the same answer he’d given you thirty minutes prior. 

a knowing smile grows on your face, how could you be mad at him? your hard working boyfriend, forever sitting behind a screen, making deadlines meet. when he said half an hour, he meant two hours. when he said twenty minutes, he meant an hour. his language is exclusive to only him, it takes someone who really knows him, really understands him for his dialect to be construed.  

you went to bed, surrounded by white walls with monochromatic paintings that didn’t have any real meaning. the room was big, too big to be comforting. too empty to be lived in, especially without him beside you. it’s how the whole loft felt: picturesque, a movie set, a bed, bathroom and kitchen without being a home. you could have a photoshoot here anytime with the natural light pouring in through the floor to ceiling windows, but could you raise a family? could you settle here, in this city?

you kept your eyes closed, searching for sleep that didn’t want to be found. pulling the comforter over you, you nuzzled in, cocooned yourself into the mongolian cashmere that threatened you with its heat. 

“going to sleep this early? that’s no fun,” you heard his voice before the patter of his familiar footsteps, a rhythm you’d memorized months ago. he climbs into the california king, searching for you, finding you, kissing you. “what’s got you wrapped up like this? missed me?” 

you nodded, bottom lip jutting out, feeling so small even with him here, this huge bed engulfing you. you needed his heat, his touch, his skin on yours, you wanted comfort. 

“my girl,” he cooed, fingers running through your hair, messily sprawled across the silk pillowcase, “i missed you too.” 

kisses that were peppered along your jaw turned heated before you could notice his mood had changed. as his tongue licked up the base of your neck you whined, pressing yourself into him, mindlessly begging for more. 

“needy girl,” he teased as he pulled the blankets off of you, mongolian cashmere be damned. you wore one of his shirts, oversized enough to be a dress. he pushed it up past your stomach, pleasantly surprised with the lack of anything underneath. 

“ah, my needy girl is clever, hm? planned this, did you?” his smirk stretched across his face, eyes deepening to the richest, darkest brown, reflecting the ecuadorian chocolates he bought you months ago, a gift on a random thursday. 

“and what if i did?” you’d been pleading for him to come to bed for ages, begging him to fill more space in this empty room. you’d been prepared to try anything, stopped only by his mask of concentration. 

“then you’re in luck,” before you knew it he’d already slipped inside you, your back arching against the texture of the percale sheets beneath you. he’d wrecked you, as he did every time, swapping spit and cum and secrets, exposing skin and feelings and truths. 

every time the sex was this sweet, this melodious, he’d tell you exactly how he felt about you. he’d make you feel it. 

“fuck, i fucking love you,” he was buried to the hilt, holding your face between two cold hands, “could die right here inside you a happy man.” 

you couldn’t do anything but moan, clenching around him, your coming answer enough. 

“want me to fill you up?” he’d asked, thrusts turning rougher, more sporadic, the finish line nearing, “yeah? give you my kids? make you a mommy?” 

you locked your ankles behind his back, this wasn’t the first time you’d done this. an iud sat inside you, still working perfectly fine, his proposal wouldn’t come to fruition with you like this. you still nod, whimpers leaving your throat, low babbles of begs for him to fill you. 

he always did, always carried you to the bath after, always washed your hair, your body, maybe filled you up once more if you felt like it. 

“do you want to stay here? in this city?” the bath had run lukewarm at this point, but you didn’t want to separate, didn’t want to spend a moment not pressed against one another. 

“for now, i think so, why?” his hand was traveling up and down your arm that hung outside the tub, your head laid against his chest. 

“when we have kids… i don’t know about raising them here,” your voice was small, unsure of where his mind would go with your sudden revelation. 

“we have a long way to go before then,” he chuckled, kissing the top of your head. you stayed quiet, fingertips inaudibly tapping the side of the tub. 

“this been bothering you?” his other hand moves to grip your jaw, a light touch to twist your head, making you look up at him. 

“i wouldn’t say it’s bothering me, but anything can happen, i was just thinking about it,” even the bathroom is too big, too lifeless to be a home. marble tile, his and hers vanities, a detached, massive shower, a bidet on the toilet. you couldn’t picture smaller you’s running around in here. 

“we’re already playing with fire, i guess,” he leans his head back on the tub, “where do you dream of going? if i could build a house from the ground up for you, where? what would it look like?”

like a scene from the notebook, your heart twisted, bursting at the seams with the unbelievable amount of what you felt for him. so you told him, a rancher, a farm, somewhere quiet and peaceful. a house that felt lived in, one appropriate to raise a family, one that wasn’t perfectly dusted and organized all the time. picture frames littering shelves, toys randomly left across the house, clothes on the floor of the bedroom. you wanted normalcy, you wanted warmth, you wanted a family. 

he wanted nothing more than to give you that. within two weeks he’d been in contact with several realtors, purchasing land on the countryside, finding the perfect plot for you two to raise your little family. he’d pictured you in a pair of boots, a tee shirt, an old, big pair of overalls. your stomach swollen, hair messily wrapped up, walking in the barn, feeding the chickens. his heart warmed, and his dick so quickly rose again, twitching behind your back. 

how a love so beautiful, so unique could get so fucked up, you couldn’t understand, not even three years later. you didn’t want to understand, though, and neither did he. you don’t care, neither of you do, because the only thing that matters is that he is still near you. close to you. breathing your air, touching your skin, whispering the most vile shit into your ear, he is here. you needed him closer, needed him so close that you merged into one. it’s never enough, it’ll never be enough, more of him, always more of him, always more of you. 

he felt the same way. your breath on his skin, your saliva drying on his neck, he wanted more. he wanted it messier, he wanted it sloppier. he wanted it to never end. but the two of you will never end because you’re meant for each other, right? there’s no one else on this planet for him, billions of people and he’s found his other half already. she’s under him, she’s breathing, she’s screaming, she’s beautiful. he’s so lucky. 

which is why it makes sense to no one that they don’t see either of you anymore. usually one of you, here and there, never together. never holding hands, never smiling at each other, never touching the other one’s hair, never fixing the other one a plate. never together, but yet rarely apart. as far as everyone knows, you’re still together, they think? you are, you tell them that you are, hongjoong tells them that you are, but poor yeosang can’t understand why he doesn’t see his friends anymore. he misses their smiles, their laughs, their humor, their parties, their love. you miss it too, sometimes. 

the truth is, your shared codependency turned into some warped fucking version of destruction where neither of you can stand to see other next to someone else. at clubs, at bars, at those backyard parties with your friends, god forbid you get too close to san. you swear to that same god if hongjoong spoke three more words to mina he’d be sleeping on the couch for weeks. everyone noticed, everyone could pick up on it easily. the side eye, outright glares across the room, hongjoong’s hand around your wrist like a pair of handcuffs. you couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed at your friend’s glances, their eyebrows furrowing in confusion, their questions that sat heavy in thin air without ever being spoken. you were too worried about what hongjoong was thinking. how angry he’d be, what it’d be like when you got home, if he’d even say a word to you the rest of the night. hongjoong was already cooking up his testimony, ready to tell you to stop being fucking insane and our friends are just friends, yet the double standard was always there. you’d use the same arguments against each other, have the same rebuttals. it got you nowhere, there was no resolution, there was just his california king and percale sheets. the cashmere blanket that laid over every argument, tucking it away tightly until the next time you unveiled it. 

as much as your love fucked you up, made your brain not fucking work correctly, you couldn’t bear to think of a day where you’d be apart. couldn’t imagine your future not spent in that rancher on the countryside, children and chickens running amok. 

when he told you his job was relocating him to the states, yet another huge city, you couldn’t breathe. for a full minute you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t answer him, you couldn’t function. your lifeline, your savior, your water, your moon, leaving you. 

“i’ll start looking for a place for us,” he said so casually, too casually, scrolling on his phone, not even looking at you. the breath was sucked from your lungs, you wouldn’t be surprised if your face was blue.

“no, i won’t go,” you murmured out, clearly, unlike the stumbling of words in your mind, hot tears in your eyes and strain on your voice. you sat up in the california king, goosebumps raising on your bare body in the too cold bedroom. 

“huh?” he finally tore his eyes from the screen, “what do you mean no?” 

“i won’t fucking go, joong! you’re asking me to pick up my life and move to another country for your stupid job?” anger flushed through your veins, your voice raised, fire in your eyes. you turned to him in the bed, not even bothering to cover yourself with the sheets. 

“my stupid job? my stupid job that pays for this place? pays the bills?” he sat up too quickly, his eyes were wide and oh boy was he angry, you hit a nerve there. 

“i can pay the bills just as easily as you and you know that, hongjoong,” you bark back, tears close to boiling as they stream down your face, “i can’t leave my life. my career, my stability, my future, what the fuck did you think i was going to say? huh? yeah sure! let’s move out of the country! are you out of your goddamn mind?” 

“your future? what the fuck am i then? just a placeholder for now?” he’s laughing with wide eyes and oh fuck it’s maniacal, ring covered fingers tugging at his white blonde roots. “i fucking knew it. you never planned a real future with me then, did you? all that talk about getting married, having kids, all of it just a fucking lie? a sick little joke to keep me with you, paying the rent? funding your little shopping sprees?” 

“fuck you, hongjoong, you fucking know that’s not true,” you’re sobbing now, his words hitting their mark. you stood up and walked out to the living room, pulling the white, soft blanket with you. 

your dream, your future, your life, crumbling around you. hongjoong was air to you, your moon, controlling the tide that pushed and pulled you closer or farther away from one another. 

you’d never been dependent on anyone before him, never needed a moon to your sun, you shone brightly all by yourself at all times. even now, with him, you could easily survive without him. financially, at least. even in this big, lifeless loft you could support yourself, you were just as successful as he was, after all. but emotionally? actually living a life that he wasn’t involved in? you don’t think you’d survive it. 

you could leave here, move with him, restart your life somewhere else. you wanted to do that, but in the countryside, this situation is completely different. this isn’t a choice. this is someone else making a decision and everyone expecting you to follow suit. what about what you needed? what about your job, that you adore? spent years climbing to where you are, you now have an entire team working under you. what about that team? your coworkers? your family, living close by? your friends, oh god your friends, ones you haven’t seen in an embarrassing amount of time… only months past twenty six, you could technically restart if you needed to. you just don’t want to. you needed hongjoong to not want to, either. 

a moment barely passed before he’s beside you on the couch, tears pouring down your cheeks, face buried in the crook of his neck. he’s rubbing your back, kissing your head, whispering sweet nothings that’d always calm you when you broke down like this. he knows how to fix you, always stitching back together what he tore apart.

two months later, and you didn’t end up on that plane beside him. he had you really convinced, though, in the same way you convinced yourself: you’d leave your job, find one similar to yours in LA, climb the ranks, and be as successful as you are here, but there. you’d be just as devoted, passionate, happy. 

ultimately, he thought he knew best, like he always does. he thinks he knows you better than you know yourself, sometimes. he knows you love your job, love your team, your coworkers, you love your position. you spent ages crawling your way up there. you love your friends, your family, you couldn’t leave them behind and still be happy. you’re a loyal woman in every aspect of your life, with your lover, your friends, your career. every small string is attached to what makes you, you. he knows you’d never be as happy as you are in this city, but he also knows you’d never let him go without you. so he left without a goodbye, without a parting gift, a farewell kiss, a last departing whisper of an i love you. 

he left you alone, broken, empty. 

a shell of who you once were. 

what he didn’t take into consideration is that you love him more than anything, anyone. you were inconsolable. your friends didn’t know what to do with you. they wondered why you weren’t at hongjoong’s going away party, why they haven’t heard from you, they didn’t know everything he did was in secret. how word didn’t get passed around to you, you didn’t know, you were still furious about it. they didn’t know how to help you, they couldn’t even start to make sense of why your boyfriend of years would leave you without a second word. neither could you. they couldn’t wrap their minds around how you didn’t know he was leaving. neither could you. 

that one long day you spent at work, coming home to a cold, massive, empty fucking apartment. not a trace of him, not one small sign that he ever lived there in the first place. he took all his clothes with him, all of his equipment for work, even his little trinkets… all gone. disappeared into thin air. how could you not fucking know? 

you took almost a week off from work. something you rarely did, you felt like you couldn’t catch up, couldn’t manage your insanely busy schedule if you did take some personal time. but this was different. it wasn’t a week spent relaxing somewhere warm, it wasn’t a vacation, it wasn’t happy at all. you thought you felt your world crumble around you when he first broke the news, this was the real thing. this was the past three years of your life that had been devoted to one singe person, the person that mattered most, the person that you’d cross oceans and go to war for and he plucked himself directly from your life. 

mina, yuna, yeosang, mingi… they were at your apartment around the fucking clock. they didn’t leave you alone, it was suffocating. you hadn’t left your bed for days, you weren’t eating, you weren’t drinking, you were too busy staring at the space above your dresser where a picture of the two of you once lived. 

he didn’t call. in the year you spent apart, while you built yourself again piece by piece, rewiring your very brain chemistry, he didn’t call you. he blocked your number, blocked your social medias, blocked your family. you went through every outlet at first, every friend you shared, trying again and again, begging for just a conversation with him. never once did you get through, never once did you hear how he was, how the states are different from here, how he’s been eating, who he’s been with… god, who has he been with? he’s yours, no one else’s.

you lost weight, you lost sleep, you lost your drive, you lost yourself, fifty percent of you. your soul was somewhere so far you couldn’t feel it, couldn’t access it, in an entirely different fucking country, tens of thousands of miles away from you. bottles of liquor now sat in your pantry, cartons of cigarettes sprawled across the kitchen table, every hour of your free time spent in solitude, months upon months of you driving yourself mad. 

you thought your bedroom felt empty before, unwelcoming, frigid, dispiriting, you couldn’t imagine being there without him, yet now you couldn’t bring yourself to go elsewhere. you took it for granted, having him here, you felt guilty for even thinking that you’d be happier somewhere else when you had the only thing you’ve ever needed in your possession. 

but a year later, he stood on your doorstep, a doorstep you once shared. a doorstep that has seen you pressed up against the frame with his hand inside your skirt, a doorstep that’s listened to your meaningless arguments on your way home from an event, a doorstep that’s watched as you bid visitors goodbye. he’s there, he’s breathing, he’s living, he’s close to you. not close enough. 

the earth had turned gray, the sunniest of days couldn’t make the city look saturated in the year you spent apart. all the usual too loud noise had turned to whispers, all the business couldn’t inflict an ounce of motivation in you. within seconds of seeing his face everything was colorful, the city had sound again, it was if someone flicked a switch sewn into your back. 

“you’re a real piece of shit,” you bark out, opting to shut the door in his face. his foot slides between the door and the frame, his hand lurching forward to hold it open. 

“i’m here,” is all he says, and you pause, looking up to him. he is here, and he’s real, and you can’t stop the tears from forming. 

hi friends! first post of my work on here <3 i have not posted any of my writing since i was probably 16... pls be nice to me

massive shoutout to @chimivx, thank you for getting me back into it and giving me the courage to post :,) love u forever

anyways i love hongjoong hope u enjoyed xoxo

love, t ｡ ★ • *

[fabydoll]

❛ . . . THE PREFECT TROPHY WIFE .ᐟ

ϑϱ⭒ ݁ waring ৎ ݁ ۪AU, dilf | himbo! jk ౨ৎ single daddy! jk ౨ৎ toxic behaviors ౨ৎ billionaire! jk ౨ৎ mentions of a milf | cougar! lisa ౨ৎ implied large age gap ౨ৎ implied foreigner! oc

masterlist ♡ next ♡

Jungkook was barely able to keep his large doe eyes from fluttering shut; he wasn't at all used to this—to any of this, from the countless and tiring meetings with the most boring and bland individuals he's ever met, to planning and making plans to better help maintain the company and keep investors interested. To keeping this multi-billion empire he had inherited running afloat, if he was going to be honest, he missed the days when all he had to do was look pretty and have crowds of people adore him.

Having no worries, no cares in the world, being free.

"Mr. Jeon, Mr. Jeon, Mr. Jeon!" His secretary annoyingly yelled, snapping Jungkook awake from his reverie, snapping back to his much more boring reality. He gave everyone in the conference room an apologetic yet charismatic smile.

Immediately going into handsome older CEO mode.

"Yes? Chaerin, is there something you wanted to tell me?" Jungkook smoothly asked, giving her his iconically heart-stopping gorgeous smile, totally acting as if he hadn't almost fallen asleep in the meeting, missing half of everything that was going on.

"Um… um, yeah, um," Chaerin stumbled, trying to collect her thoughts together, her cheeks flustered as she fumbled with the documents.

"So, ahem," she cleared her throat, adding an awkward chuckle, "INUV wants you to sign the documents to begin the process of expanding our companies together." Jungkook nodded; he only about half understood what she was talking about, but as Chaerin was handing him the papers to sign, she stopped—getting lost in his big, beautiful, doe-warm chocolate brown eyes.

Was he even real?

"Chaerin, Chaerin, Chaerin, Chaerin! The documents?! Please!" Chaerin's cheeks flushed an even brighter red than before. Jungkook just snatched the papers out of her hands, mumbling yet loud enough, "I swear, secretaries these days always thinking you're in love with them or something."

Everyone in the luxurious, opulent conference room laughed, some hiding their giggles under the table, their briefcases, or hands.

Chaerin just quietly and embarrassingly plopped herself back in her seat.

"Here," Jungkook said, handing the documents back to a disgraced Chaerin, who, without looking up from the ground, gave it to one of the INUV executives, who was still trying to hold back his laugh.

Jungkook cleared his throat while adjusting the buttons on his designer Italian suit, clapping his muscular and tattooed hands to get everyone's attention back on him. "Anyways, besides that little interruption," side-eyeing Chaerin, "it was an honor to do business with you all, and we promise to do nothing but our absolute best."

He ended by shaking hands with the lead executive before walking out as everyone clapped, with Chaerin clumsily following behind him. He needed to get back to his office to finish some more paperwork that would officially finalize the deal, not before stopping to give one of his employees his autograph.

Then, after that, head to Sweet Bears, his favorite bar, to relax and unwind.

Jungkook was already in the elevator about to push his own private floor number, but midway stopped, hearing Chaerin's annoying high-pitched voice yelling, "MR. JEON!!"

He cursed himself for not going faster, silently praying that those doors closed before she could make it in.

But God only hears those who are faithful.

She slipped in before the elevator doors could close, huffing a bit from the fact she literally sprinted in heels to get into the elevator with Jungkook. He rolled his eyes; he thought after absolutely embarrassing her at the conference, maybe she would quit.

But no.

Jungkook internally groaned as he felt her seductively eyeing him up and down, biting her lips as she held her files close to her chest. He felt like he was being sexually harassed. Chaerin was an amazing secretary, and she knew how to do her job; if he was being honest, without her, the company would probably have already lost a few million.

But her infatuation and borderline obsession with Jungkook was either a reason he would fire her or the reason he would snap her in half once he got fed up with her.

The only reason why she was still here was that she happened to be one of Jungkook's biggest investors and his father's best friend's daughter.

There was an awkward moment of silence with the background of smooth jazz playing, as Chaerin still eyed him like he was the finest eye candy she had ever seen, which he was, but still.

"Miss Shin, hope there's nothing wrong for you to have come running in the elevator like that," Jungkook said through gritted teeth as he plastered

a fake smile on his gorgeous face.

She didn't even deserve to have him give her one of his beautiful fake smiles.

Chaerin giggled, a stupid one, and twirled her hair as she held her paperwork close to her chest. "Nothing much, I was just going to ask you if you were off tonight?" she said as she bit her lips with a seductive, flirtatious gaze.

Ever since Jungkook's private divorce from the wealthy and powerful businesswoman Lisa Manoban, young girls, older women, and men of all ages have been throwing themselves all over Jungkook.

Lisa Manoban is one of the most influential self-made entrepreneurs in all of Asia, having multiple companies that are each worth billions of dollars. When I say she has power, she has power. She met Jungkook through a mutual friend; at first, Jungkook was her pretty himbo sugar baby before deciding to marry him at his 20th birthday party in Bali.

She was the breadwinner and wanted Jungkook to stay at home and be her pretty trophy husband and house husband that she could flaunt his beauty and youthfulness to all her other rich older milfs and cougar friends. Having someone young and as beautiful as Jungkook depended on you was a new type of power, one that Lisa had never felt before. It was addicting—so was his sex power in bed, because damn, was he truly gifted by Adonis himself.

Who knew a guy could taste so sweet in bed?

And also, all the bragging rights that come with having a pretty himbo, boy toy, beauty pageant king, and supermodel as your trophy husband and house husband.

But after giving birth to their adorable toddler, Kwan, they quietly separated but did not publicly divorce. But people still thought they were married and happily threw themselves at the new handsome but beautiful now DILF Jungkook.

Who could blame them?

He still looked as handsome as ever, looking like he was still in his 20s (and acted like he was still in his 20s), now just being a hot young DILF. He aged like fine wine, being as attractive and charming as ever with his fit and muscular physique and flawless golden-tanned skin.

He still kinda looked like the beautiful and young, naive doe-eyed himbo trophy husband he used to be.

"I'm actually very, very busy tonight. It's my 4-year-old son Kwan's school recital tonight, and I promised him that me and mommy would take him out for ice cream. I also have some work at the office I need to attend to," Jungkook said, lying through his teeth. Kwan was with Lisa in Thailand, as it was her week with him.

"Oh, um, that's totally fine. Maybe we can—" Jungkook had already walked out of the elevator, and the elevator had already closed before Chaerin could finish her sentence.

He needed to find some way to fire her.

Quickly.

Sweet Beer was his favorite beer parlor and bar. He remembered how, when he was young, he would skip class just to come to the parlor with friends and pick up girls, flirting with the cute waitresses that would end up in his bed later that night.

He couldn't help but smile and roll his eyes at the memories while driving there.

Those were the good times, when he didn't have a single care in the world.

Ting! The small bell rang as Jungkook walked in, causing the 50-year-old woman to turn around to see who it was, immediately stopping her sweeping, dropping the broom and happily running to him, arms wide open, like a mother who hadn't seen her son in years.

Koko!! You came!" Mrs. Yun happily yelled.

Jungkook happily embraced Mrs. Yun as they rocked back and forth, unable to hold back the overwhelming feelings of joy they felt; it felt like years since they had last seen each other. "Mrs. Yun—Eomma! How could I not come!?" Jungkook said as they kissed each other on the cheek.

As Jungkook pulled back from the hug, Mrs. Yun cupped his cheeks, holding his beautiful face in her hands. She felt like she was about to cry; it felt like yesterday when a 16-year-old Jungkook would run away from home to come to her bar shop, complaining about the unbelievable pressure his parents were putting on him and how he wanted to run away.

She was always the one to comfort and reassure him that with time everything would get better.

Here he was now, all gowned up, married with a kid of his own; time had gone by so fast. "Oh, Koko," she sweetly said, giving him another big, tight hug before letting go and wiping her tears with her apron. Jungkook sighed, adding a small laugh. "Eomma, don't tell me you're getting emotional?"

"Me? Getting emotional? No, no, I'm just shocked you've grown up to be such a gorgeous young man," she said, having a pretty sappy tone in her voice. Jungkook smiled a little. "But enough talk about the past, how's you and Lisa going? Is everything going well? Hope she isn't giving you any trouble. And Kwan too, how's my Kiki doing?"

Jungkook just let out an awkward laugh; he hadn't told Mrs. Yun about the divorce—not yet anyway. He was still a bit shocked by it, truthfully, and still didn't know how to tell anyone about it. Knowing how Mrs. Yun was, she would probably let it spill to his parents, and for a fact, all hell would break loose then.

"Everything is going good; it's going extremely well actually, and Lisa and Kwan are doing great," Jungkook said, giving her one of his gorgeous fake smiles. Mrs. Yun gave him a look; she always had the motherly ability to tell if he was lying. "Are you sure, Koko? If something is going on, you talk to me."

"No, I promise Eomma, everything is grea—" The sound of crashing glass hitting the floor and breaking cut Jungkook off, who looked to Mrs. Yun for what or who caused that sound. Mrs. Yun just chuckled. "Don't mind that; it's just my new barista."

"New barista?" Jungkook knew every single barista that worked here—totally just from encounters and not sleeping with them.

So, who was that?

Mrs. Yun pulled him by the arm towards the bar. For someone who was in her late 50s, she was strong, especially considering how much Jungkook worked out and how tall he was. Jungkook looked at Mrs. Yun; was someone supposed to just appear? Mrs. Yun just winked at him.

"Y/n, dear, I have someone I want you to meet."

At first, it looked like she was talking to no one. Jungkook was about to ask her if she had forgotten her medication yet again.

But then a beautiful young girl appeared from the door by the bar. She had long and somewhat curly yet straight golden blonde hair with beautiful and angelic lightly sun-kissed skin, with some of the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen; they were completely two different colors.

"Yes, Mrs. Yun?" she softly asked as she carried more empty glasses of beer, almost dropping them on the counter. Giving both Mrs. Yun and Jungkook an apologetic smile, Mrs. Yun just smiled excitedly, introducing them to each other. "Meet Mr. Jeon and Jungkook, my love, meet Y/n, my new stunning barista!"

The sun-kissed girl just blushed as she heard Mrs. Yun call her a 'stunning barista,' before extending one of her small and dainty hands to Jungkook, shyly saying, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jeon," who shook it, holding her delicate hand in both of his bigger and larger hands before kissing it, mumbling against her soft skin.

"The pleasure is all mine."

BOUNS ੭ ꒰ for all my ogs before my account got deleted 😭꒱

Jungkook was barely able to keep his eyes open, he wasn't used to this at all, as his executive was talking about the 3.4 billion won deal, they had with a company that would love to partner up with them. He never liked meetings, but they were important to keep his multi-billion empire running a float. "So, Mr. Jeon do you have anything else you would like to add?" His secretary chirped out as she was giving INUV inc. the paperwork to sign.

"No, I have nothing else to add. But it's an honor to do business with you and we promise to do our absolute best." Jungkook said using his 'boss voice' as he shook hands with INUV's executive.

As everyone in the luxurious, opulent conference room clapped.

As soon as the meeting was over, he made his way to the elevator he needed to get back to his office to finish some more paperwork that would finalize the deal, but his secretary, Chaerin, voice stopped him as he was entering the elevator.

"MR. JEON!!"

He silently prayed that those doors closed before she could make it in.

But not all prayers come true.

She ran in before the elevator doors could close, Chaerin was an amazing secretary and she knew how to do her job well but her infatuation with Jungkook was either a, be the reason he fires her or b, the reason he fires her.

The only reason why she is still here is because she happens to be one of Jungkook's biggest investors and best friend's daughter.

"Miss Shin, hope there's nothing wrong. For, you to have come running in the elevator like that." Jungkook said through gritted teeth as he plastered a fake smile on his gorgeous face.

Chaerin giggled and twirled her hair as she held her paperwork close to her chest. "Nothing much, I was just going to ask you if you were off tonight?" she said as she bit her lips while eyeing him up and down with a flirtatious gaze.

Ever since, Jungkook's divorce with the Lisa Manoban, young girls, older women and men of all ages have been throwing themselves all over Jungkook.

When he was still married to Lisa, she was the one who was the breadwinner, with her owning large companies and being a supermodel.

She wanted Jungkook to stay at home and be her pretty trophy husband and house husband that she could flaunt his beauty and enjoy his sex power in bed.

Due to the fact that when Jungkook was in his youth he was a pretty himbo and boy toy when he first met her and had won multiple beauty pageants and was supermodel too.

But times have changed (kinda).

He still looked as handsome as ever, looking like he was still in his 20s (and acted like he was still in his 20s) with him now just being a hot young DILF.

He aged like fine wine, with him being as attractive and charming as ever with his fit physique and flawless golden tanned skin.

He still kinda looked like the handsome and young, naive himbo trophy husband he used to be.

"I'm actually very busy tonight it's my 4-year-old son, Kwan, um school recital tonight and I have some work at the office I need to attend too." Jungkook said lying through his teeth, Kwan was with Lisa, as it was her week with him.

"Oh, um that's fine maybe we can-" Jungkook had already walked out of the elevator and the elevator had already closed before Chaerin could finish her sentence.

He needed to find a way to fire her. Quickly.

But first he needed a beer.

Sweet Beer was his favorite beer parlor and bar. He remembered how when he was young, he would skip class just to come to the parlor with friends and pick up girls. And flirt with the cute waitresses that would end up in his bed later that night.

He couldn't help but smile and roll his eyes at the memories while driving there.

Those were the good times, where he didn't have a single care in the world.

"Koko!! You came" Mrs. Yun happily yelled as soon as she saw he was entering the door, hearing the ding from the bells up on the door.

"Mrs. Yun! How could I not come!?" he happily said as they kissed each other on the cheek and embraced, Mrs. Yun was just like a second mother to Jungkook, she was there for him even when his own mother couldn't be there for him.

"Well, you know how much it makes me happy to see you come here, it's been such a long time!" Mrs. Yun said as she pinched his cheek. The parlor had been going a little slower than usual, but Jungkook's presence had really brightened up her mood.

"I know, I know it's been such a long time and I'm sorry it's just the divorce with Lisa, work and Kwan along with everything that's been going on lately."

"I know it must be so stressful, but come I want you to meet someone special" Mrs. Yun said as she pulled him, for someone that was in her late 50s she was strong, especially considering how much Jungkook worked out and how tall he was.

She pulled him until they were at the cashier, Jungkook looked at Mrs. Yun who just wink at him.

"Y/n, dear, met Mr. Jeon."

At first it looked like she was talking to no one, Jungkook was about to ask her if she had forgotten her medication again.

But then a beautiful young girl came out of the big walking closet/cabinet near the cash register, she had long silky hair and some of the most beautiful eyes Jungkook had ever seen.

"Yes, Mrs. Yun?" she softly asked as she carried more empty glasses of beer where she placed them on the counter.

"Meet Mr. Jeon and Jungkook, my love, met Y/n my new stunning barista!"

Y/n blushed as she heard Mrs. Yun call her a 'stunning barista', Jungkook couldn't help but to smile too, something he hadn't done for a long time, as he saw her cute cheeks turn a light pink blush.

She was so cute and pretty at the same time.

Maybe, Mrs. Yun was right she was someone special.

𝜗℘ㅤׁㅤ. . fabrianna's thoughts . . . yellow! I'M BACK! after my account got deleted i knew i still wanted to continue "the perfect trophy wife" series but changed a few things, like the first chapter i wanted to make it longer and with much more thought, detail and dialog. and i'm pretty happy with the finale result, tell me which one is better the original or new one? planning on doing the same thing with second chapter "Sweets of deals" but still don't know. i promise this time i won't just disappear and plan on releasing more ꒰ like a fanfic i'm currently with a dilf cop taehyung꒱ but anyway hope yall enjoy, toddles.

𝜗℘ㅤׁㅤ. . taglist . . . n/a