ALL CAPS (Rapper male reader x Arcane / KDA)

Penthouse Living

You sped down the winding streets of Piltover, the roar of your Bugatti Chiron drowning out the shouts of the paparazzi trailing behind you. Flashes from their cameras illuminated the rearview mirror as you made a sharp turn, losing them in the maze of streets. Your heart raced—not from fear, but from exhilaration. You had done it. The new penthouse, the pinnacle of Piltover luxury, was yours.

Pulling up to the sleek, futuristic tower, the building gleamed under the midday sun, all chrome and glass. You parked in front of the building and stepped out, throwing the keys to the chalet who would park it in your new multi story garage. You took a deep breath and entered through the lobby doors.

Immediately, you were greeted by the scent of fresh lavender and the soft murmur of classical music playing in the background. The lobby was vast and opulent, with high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and marble floors that gleamed beneath your feet. The polished atmosphere made your heart swell with pride. This was the life you'd fought for.

A young receptionist behind the front desk looked up as you approached, her eyes widening when she realized who you were. She fumbled with her notepad for a second before giving you a flustered smile.

"Mr. y/l/n! W-welcome to your new home!" she stammered, clearly nervous.

You chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "No need to be nervous," you said with a smirk, leaning against the counter. "You get a lot of famous neighbours around here?"

The receptionist blushed deeply, looking down at her notes. "Actually, you're one of the more... high-profile residents. I've been assigned as your personal secretary, so if you need anything, just let me know. My name's Alina."

"Personal secretary, huh?" you smiled, your charm kicking in effortlessly. "Well, Alina, I'll keep that in mind. Maybe you could show me around sometime."

Alina giggled, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Of course, sir. I can get into the private elevator with you now to take you up."

Together, they stepped into the sleek, chrome-plated elevator, its walls made of reflective glass. The doors closed with a soft chime, and the elevator began its smooth ascent to the top floor. Alina glanced at you shyly before speaking up again.

"There's actually only one other room on your floor," she said, "across the hall from your penthouse. But don't worry, they're very private, so you shouldn't have to deal with much... disturbance."

You raised an eyebrow, curious. "One neighbor, huh? Wonder who they are..."

Alina smiled but didn't offer any more information. You shrugged it off for now, focusing instead on the excitement bubbling in your chest. The elevator finally stopped, and the doors slid open, revealing a hallway lined with rich carpeting and soft lighting.

The tour of your penthouse began as soon as they stepped inside. It was everything you had dreamed of and more. The living room was vast, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The space was filled with designer furniture, art pieces that screamed elegance, and a grand piano in the corner. A spiral staircase led to the second and third floors, where you were shown a private pool, jacuzzi, and sprawling rooftop terrace. It was like stepping into a whole new world—one you had only seen in magazines until now.

"And here's the studio," Alina said, leading you into a room You had been most excited about.

The studio was impressive, designed to perfection with the latest technology and sound equipment. Your heart raced as you took it all in, the possibilities buzzing in your mind. But one thing caught your attention—a lack of acoustic panels.

"Guess I'll need to fix that," you muttered, mentally noting to order some. Still, the space was incredible, custom-made just as you had requested.

Alina left you to explore after showing you everything, and once alone, you paced around the studio, eager to start creating. You pulled out your phone and jotted down lyrics that had been swirling in your mind. A song about being rich, living the high life—something to match the energy you felt in your new home.

You sat down, cranked up the speakers, and began working. Your fingers flew across the keyboard, crafting a beat that oozed confidence and luxury. The track had a heavy bassline, with lush melodies that made you feel like you were on top of the world. As you rapped the verses, talking about your rise, you couldn't help but grin.

Halfway through the final verse, just as you were layering the vocals, a loud bang echoed through the penthouse. You froze.

Another bang, this time louder.

Someone was at the door.

Your eyes narrowed as you pulled off your headphones, your heart pounding in your chest. Who could possibly be banging on your door in a place like this?