#Nightclub Hostess

[atomic-chronoscaph]

Spicy City (1997)

[wdr2-rlbmut]

Please keep the tags in reposting links. Thanks.

[newyorkthegoldenage]

Hostesses at the Savoy Ballroom, Harlem, 1938.

Until 1943, the Savoy Ballroom was renowned for its “hostesses”— attractive, well-dressed and well-mannered young ladies in the employ of the ballroom, who could teach you the latest dance steps or simply give you the pleasure of their company on the dance floor . Dance partners for hire were sometimes called “taxi dancers” and could be had for 25 cents for three dancers. The hostess booth in the Savoy was by the stairwell.

Photo & text: PIC magazine via Welcome to the Savoy

[kingkatsuki]

— patrol

This is very self-indulgent I’m sorry in advance💕

Bakugou hates night patrol, and you hate sleeping alone.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, Bakugou has dirty thoughts about you, sleepy sex, creampies, cockwarming. Not proof-read as always.

Word Count: 2.2k.

Bakugou hates overnight patrols.

Not only because they mess with his body clock, ensuring his usual nightly routine is out the window as he falls into bed in the early hours of the morning. But the worst Musutafu has to offer seem to come out at night.

The most depraved creeps seem to come out as the sun goes down, crime never sleeps and apparently neither does Dynamight. And night shifts manage to turn the number two Pro into a social worker— just last week he had to deal with a lost woman who had just broke up with her boyfriend, and a drunk that was trying to fall asleep in the grimy booth of a hostess club.

But the worst thing about overnight patrols? Is knowing that you’re at home sleeping soundly in your shared bed, probably wearing one of his oversized shirts as it rides up your thighs— fuck.

He shouldn’t have thought about it.

Groaning at the stiffening erection between his thighs as he run a gloved hand down the length of his face. That was definitely the worst part about these shifts, often trying to swap with one of his sidekicks so he wouldn’t have to endure them.

It was too late for him now, his cock pulsing with want as he tried to ignore the sensation. Trying to stop himself from thinking about slipping into bed behind you and resting it between the supple swell of your ass, feeling the heat radiating from between your plush thighs as he buried himself inside you.

Bakugou was half tempted to call you, even though it was almost three in the morning— the excuse of missing your voice enough to justify the means. But he knew how tired you were from work when you arrived home this evening, the fatigue evident on your features as you gave him a soft smile, practically falling into his arms as he relaxed before his night patrol.

He palmed himself through thick gloves, thankful his huge gauntlets were big enough to conceal the movement if anyone were to catch him they’d think he was just adjusting them. Stifling a groan as he imagined your smaller hands wrapping around his length to give him a teasing pump.

A shrill scream sounded along the bustling street as he caught sight of a scuffle forming outside a nightclub in his peripheral as Bakugou groaned low and deep in his throat, furrowing his brows as he tried to ignore the throb between his thighs.

It was going to be a long fucking night.

It’s hours later when Bakugou is finally making his way home to you, his underwear sticky with pre as he spent the rest of his patrol thinking about this moment. Tired limbs dropping his gauntlets at the door before shrugging off his boots, already hearing you chastising him for leaving them in the way as his lips curl into a soft smile.

God, he missed you.

He’s just grateful the shift didn’t run over, as it often does if a fight breaks out or he has to try and get someone who’s just covered his boots in vomit on the correct train home. Meaning that by the time he’s finally finished and on his way back to you, you’ve already left for work.

Bakugou’s sock clad feet padded through your home as he made his way towards your shared bedroom, tugging his vest up and over his head as he discarded it to the floor. The sight of you exactly how he imagined earlier as you lay asleep in one of his shirts, the fabric bunched around your hips as you lay on your stomach. A leg bent at the knee as he saw the pretty lace panties that you wore, cursing beneath his breath.

If he’d known you were wearing those he probably would’ve called in sick in favour of burying himself inside you to the hilt, storing this scene away in the depths of his mind for the next time he’s needy and you’re not around. Moving his hands to unbuckle his utility belt as he held the lax weight of it, dropping it to the floor gently so’s not to wake you.

He cursed the sight of the time on his phone as he lay it on top of his wireless charger. Barely an hour until you were going to be getting up for work again to leave him alone in your shared bed, wondering whether he should disable your alarm so you miss work and spend the day with him instead.

Pulling the neatly made sheets back on his side of the bed as he climbed in beside you, immediately pressing his back against your side as strong arms pulled you into him. The saccharine scent of you invading his senses as he pressed the cold tip of his nose into the curve of your neck.

He’d almost felt guilty about waking you up, almost— if you didn’t sound so adorable at the sensation. Your breath hitching in your throat as he gave you a grin, his semi-hard cock presses against your hip as he nuzzles your skin gently.

“Mmmm, missed you Katsuki.” You coo, voice laced with sleep as you turn in his grip.

Your arms wrap around his middle as his warm palm moves to the back of your thigh, hoisting it up onto his hip so he could slot himself comfortably between them. His desire pressed flush against your clothed heat as a groan rumbled from deep in his chest.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He rasps, “Missed you too.”

“I can tell.” You murmur, fingertips stroking the scars littered along his muscular back, “You didn’t even shower, smelly.”

“No time,” He shrugs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You gotta get up for work soon.”

“Don’t say that,” You whined, “I like to imagine I’ve got at least another four hours.”

Bakugou smooths a large palm along your upper thigh as he cups the curve of your ass, pressing you against his hard bulge with more urgency. Your pouty lips part in a gasp as you keep your tired eyes shut, his thick fingers slip between your thighs to feel along your slit.

“Did ya touch yourself without me?” He groans when he found your panties damp, fingers disappearing beneath the fabric to trace a line through your slick.

“No,” You mumble as heat licks at your cheeks, “I was just thinking about you.”

“Oh yeah?” He hums, “What were you dreamin’ about hah, dirty girl?”

“You.” You reply earnestly, rolling your hips into his touch as a silent plea for him to touch where you need it most. Your neglected clit throbs with want as the tips of his fingers brush against it.

“Is that right, sweetheart?” He groans, a deep timbery rumble to his tone as he moves the same hand to tug down his boxers, “Cause I’ve been thinkin’ about you all damn night.”

“Yeah?” You gasped as you felt the leaking tip of his cock glide through your messy folds, nudging your puffy clit before catching your fluttering hole.

“Why don’t I show you?” Bakugou grunts as he pushes forward, feeling your walls begin to suck him in as he sinks deep into your wet cunt. Stealing the air from your lungs as your nails dig crescent shaped moons into his back, not that Bakugou cared. Those were the few marks he didn’t mind receiving, a constant reminder of how much he looks after you and a trophy to display proudly in the locker rooms at his agency.

“Oh, fuck. Kats—” You trailed off into a moan as he bottoms out, the length of his cock curving towards that sweet spot inside you as he began to give soft, shallow thrusts into your tight heat.

The salacious thoughts he’d had all night were nothing compared to the feeling of you clinging to him so perfectly, as though you were made for him as he set a languid pace. Calloused fingers dipping into the fat of your ass as he moves you along his thick cock, his warm breath fans against your skin as the stench of sweat laced with smoke and ash invaded your senses. The scent was intoxicating as you found yourself disappearing in it, burying your nose into Bakugou’s chest as you inhale deeply.

“Fuck, baby.” He grunts, feeling your walls pulse around his cock in response as he continued the pace.

Creamy rings of your slick circled the base of his cock and matted into his trimmed pubic hair as Bakugou worked you towards your release. Certain he wouldn’t be able to last long, especially after all the thoughts he’d had of you tonight.

“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” He rasps, tilting his head back slightly to try and see your face in the early morning glow, “Can feel ya squeezin’ me.”

Bakugou didn’t give you a moment to respond before he was pushing your back onto the mattress as he settles between your thighs, not once pulling out of you as the new position had him even deeper. His blonde hair pushed back with his mask as his forehead presses against yours, fucking into you with long, deep thrusts. Stealing the air from your lungs with each precise forward motion, reveling in the pretty sounds you made that were reserved all for him.

When did he get so lucky?

“I’m— oh, fuck.” You manage to choke out from between shaky breaths as he hit that spot inside you.

“Yeah? Is that right?” Bakugou grins as he presses a sultry kiss to your lips, his tongue disappearing between them as he swallows your moans.

Everything was far too intense, as you found yourself slipping from conciousness. The pleasure swirling around your mind as your thick lashes flutter, feeling the familiar sensation swirling inside you as the cog begun to tighten.

“You’re so pretty like this, you know?” He grunts, “Got the best fuckin’ pussy.”

Bakugou shifts his weight, pressing some of it on top of you comfortably as he moves his hand to where your bodies are connected. Drawing messy figure of eights against your puffy clit as he worked you towards your release, guiding you towards the edge.

“Come on, sweet girl,” He coos, teeth nipping at your cheek as he gave a particularly harsh thrust against that sweet spot inside you, “Give it to me.”

“Katsuki.” Your walls begin to pulse around his cock as you lose yourself in a toe-curling climax. Your heart rattles your ribcage as you cling to his back, certain you’re leaving deep red lines along the surface as you come undone.

“That’s my good girl,” He groans, continuing to give a few more messy thrusts into your warmth, feeling your walls clenching around him to milk him of his own release, “Good, fuckin’, girl.”

Bakugou enunciates each word with a sharp thrust as his balls tighten, burying his face in the curve of your neck as he cums with a grunt. The heavy weight of him drops onto your chest as he spills white, hot ropes of cum deep inside you.

“Feel so good.” He mumbles against your skin, his stubble tickling your neck as he stayed buried inside you. Cherishing the final few throbs of your cunt around him as he felt his eyes begin to get heavy, slowly drifting into slumber, “All mine.”

This. This is exactly what he’d been waiting for all damn night, thinking about the moment that he’d get to come home to you.

Your fingers began to stroke through his hair, your nails scratching at his damp scalp as a guttural groan reverberates from deep in his chest.

“You need to shower, baby.” You mumble tiredly, already feeling sleep begin to consume you as your breathing began to lull.

“Later.” Bakugou rasps, fully intent of falling asleep like this— with his cock still buried snug inside you.

Until your loud alarm begins to blare around the room, causing Bakugou’s grip on you to tighten as he tries to bury his face in your chest. Holding you still as you futilely try to reach for your phone.

“I gotta turn it off, Kats— please.” You blindly feel for the device as you attempt to follow the sound. Bakugou’s heavy weight on top of you made it so you could barely move as he seemed content to fall asleep with the offensive noise. Although it was probably because Bakugou was used to annoying alarms— his current choice was a clip of All Might repeatedly saying ‘I am here’ which alone was arguably worse (a fact he would contest to the death), “Katsuki, please. My alarm is so annoying.”

He grumbles as he turns his head to face it, his cheek pressed against your breast as he pulls it off the wireless charger. Blindly stabbing at the phone screen until the noise stops, before dropping the phone to the floor as though this would somehow stop you from getting ready for work.

“Baby, I need to get up,” Your attempt to wriggle beneath his weight was in vain as he tightens his grip around your waist in retaliation, “I have work in an hour and I need to shower now.”

“Call in sick.” Bakugou replied simply.

[shaymoo22]

Bui Man Seaside Eatery

Hungry? You're in good hands. We proudly make everything from scratch in our open kitchen using local ingredients and a whole lotta soul. Here, every seat in the house is a good one, and the warmth doesn't just come from our chef-graded oven. The warmth of our cooking is complemented by meticulously sourced ingredients in season from Windenburg farms and local partners. Let us make you a plate!

_____________________________________________________________

This lot is placed in Windenburg where the nightclub was originally placed!

Lot size: 30 x 20

Lot Type: Restaurant

Packs Used: Get Famous, Seasons, Get Together, Get to Work, Dine Out, Spa Day

EA ID: shaymoo22

______________________________________________________________

CC List:

Awingedllama: Boho living, Blooming Rooms (only used for some plants)

ATS4: Bistro Chair 3, Bar drinks, Advent 2020 Wine Bottles

Harrie: Brutalist Bathroom, Brownstone Collection Part 1 &2 Merged, Coastal Pt 4 (double fridge), Spoons Pt 1, 2, &3 (counters, door, table, and hostess stand)

Felixandre: Chateau Pt 1 (Brick wall and window frame), Grove (arches)

Little Dica: H&B Stores (letters used for signage)

Madame Ria: Basic Luxe (stool)

Marvell World: Lux Collection (wall slats)

Myshunosun: Garden Stories (outdoor lights), Gale (dining chair), Lottie (potted tree)

Madlen: Niels Wall (exterior wallpaper)

Peacemaker: Cane Living (Artwork)

Pierisim: Domaine Du Clos Set, MCM Set

Tuds: IND Collection

Other Bottles Seen on Shelf: Lilith Set by Taurus Design, RVSN On Cloud Nine Wine Bottles

Lighting: Syb - Life Livingroom Ceiling Lamp, Sim Man - Hedwyn Living Pendant Light, Simenapule - Set Vicky Ceiling Lamp

Thank you: @pixelglam

[pucksandpower]

Party Girl

Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics

Logan Sargeant x Hunt!Reader

Summary: Logan tries to save a notorious party girl from herself (or in which going wild runs in the Hunt family)

Warnings: illicit substances and peer-pressure

The nightclub’s bass thumps through Logan’s chest as the trio approaches the entrance. Lando and Oscar turn to him with matching grins.

“You ready for this, mate?” Lando asks.

Logan eyes the mass of people spilling out onto the sidewalk. “Is this really a good idea?”

“Of course!” Oscar claps him on the shoulder. “It’s gonna be brilliant. Especially with you keeping an eye on the hostess.”

“Me?” Logan’s brow furrows.

Lando nods. “You’re our designated driver tonight, so you’ll be the soberest one here. We need you to keep Y/N from going too far off the rails.”

“Why me though? I barely know her.”

“Exactly!” Oscar exclaims. “She doesn’t really know you either, so she’ll actually listen instead of brushing you off like she does with the rest of us.”

Logan frowns. “I don’t know, guys ...”

“Oh, come on!” Lando wheedles. “You’ve heard the stories about James Hunt. Partying is in her DNA. We just need to make sure she doesn’t take after her grandad too much tonight.”

With a sigh, Logan relents. “Alright, fine. I’ll do my best to keep her out of trouble.”

The two grin and clap him on the back before leading the way inside. The throbbing music and flashing lights assault Logan’s senses as they enter. He scans the crowd, quickly spotting a vaguely familiar mane of untamed waves.

You’re laughing uproariously at something one of your friends said, drink sloshing precariously in your hand. Your cheeks are already flushed, eyes bright with intoxication and mirth. A pang of concern flutters in Logan’s chest — Lando and Oscar weren’t kidding about keeping an eye on you.

Making his way through the press of bodies, Logan sidles up next to you. You glance over with a brilliant smile.

“Heyyy, you made it!”

“Yeah, uh, hi,” Logan replies, suddenly feeling awkward. “Your friends invited me to, you know, keep things under control.”

You giggle. “Under control? What fun is that?”

Taking a swig of your drink, you spin away to dance with your friends, moving your hips enticingly. Logan swallows hard, trying not to stare. This is going to be harder than he thought.

The evening blurs by in a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. Wherever you go, Logan follows at a respectful distance. He rebuffs anyone trying to offer you illicit substances and intervenes whenever your friends get too rowdy.

A few times you shoot him annoyed glares, but he just shrugs apologetically. He’s only doing what Lando and Oscar asked. Besides, he reasons, better to have you mad at him than in real danger.

As the hour grows later, your movements become more uncoordinated, laughter louder and words more slurred. Logan hovers closer, concern mounting.

“Ohhh, Logannnnn,” you croon, draping yourself over him. “You’re sooo stuffy. Live a little!”

He gently extracts himself from your embrace. “I think you’ve lived enough for tonight, Y/N.”

Pouting, you turn away petulantly. Logan watches as a few of your more unscrupulous friends surround you with sly grins. Alarm spikes through him when he sees one of them press something into your palm.

“Hey!” Pushing forward, he places himself between you and them. “Back off. She’s not interested.”

You blink at him owlishly while your friends sneer.

“Who’re you to decide for her, pretty boy?”

“Someone who actually cares if she’s okay.” Logan holds his ground.

With a drunken giggle, you lean against his back. “S’ok, Logieee. Lemme have some fun!”

“No, Y/N.” He spins to face you, gripping your shoulders firmly. “That stuff is bad news. You don’t want it, trust me.”

Your eyes are glazed, but you search his face like you’re trying to understand. One of your friends makes another attempt to press the little baggie into your hand. Without thinking, Logan bats it away. It goes flying across the club, spilling white powder everywhere.

“Dude!” Your friend shouts, outraged.

Logan doesn’t give them a chance to react further. Scooping you up in his arms, he starts carrying you away from the crowd. You’re tiny and warm against his chest, still giggling faintly.

“Mmm, Logan ... gonna getcha in trouble ...”

“I’ll take my chances,” he mutters.

Pushing his way through the throngs of people, Logan finally breaks free into the cool night air. He sets you on your feet, but keeps a steadying hand on your waist when you sway unsteadily.

Up close like this, he can make out the flushed skin across your nose, the flecks of light reflecting in your warm eyes. For a moment you just gaze at each other, the sounds of the party muffled behind the club’s doors.

Then your brow furrows. “Why’d ya stop me? I was jus’ havin’ fun.”

Logan shakes his head slowly. “That kind of fun isn’t good for you, Y/N. Your friends, they ... they weren’t looking out for your best interests back there.”

“You don’ even know me!” You protest, pushing away from him on unsteady feet.

Without thinking, Logan catches your hands in his. They’re so tiny, delicate, yet topped with nails sharp enough to take an eye out. Just like the rest of you — an enigmatic mix of fragile beauty and uncompromising tenacity.

“You’re right, I don’t really know you,” he admits. “But I know that you’re strong. Braver and tougher than anyone gives you credit for. And you don’t need that junk to be the life of the party.”

For a long moment, you simply stare at him, eyes wide. Then, slowly, you nod. A few stray tendrils of hair fall across your face and Logan’s fingers itch to brush them back. He tamps down the urge.

“M’sorry I made a scene back there,” you mumble, averting your gaze.

“Hey.” Logan ducks his head to catch your eye again. “Don’t be sorry. Those people, they ...” He shakes his head in disgust. “You deserve better friends than that.”

Pink dusts your cheeks as the corners of your mouth tick upwards. “You’re sweet, Logan. A real gentleman.”

“I just call it like I see it,” he replies with a shrug.

You laugh softly then, a warm, rich sound that sends tingles down Logan’s spine. When you speak again, your voice is clearer, more sober.

“I guess tonight got a little out of hand. Sometimes I go too far trying to live up to the reputation of my last name. It’s stupid, I know.”

“Hey, we all have things we’re trying to prove.” Logan squeezes your hands reassuringly. “But you don’t have to prove anything to me, Y/N. I can already see how amazing you are.”

For a beat, you simply stare at him, eyes shining. Then, surging up on your tiptoes, you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him hard.

Logan freezes for half a second before melting into the embrace, pulling you flush against him. His fingers tangle in your hair as he kisses you back with everything he has.

When you finally break apart, breathless and flushed, Logan rests his forehead against yours.

“Wow,” is all he can think to say.

You grin impishly up at him. “Now there’s a party I wouldn’t mind getting carried away at.”

Logan can’t help but laugh. Tucking you into his side, he presses a kiss to your temple. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

***

Logan jolts awake to the sound of insistent pounding on his hotel room door. Squinting against the bright sunlight filtering through the curtains, he rubs the sleep from his eyes and shuffles to answer it.

“About damn time!” Lando’s voice greets him as soon as the door opens. “Do you know how long we’ve been stuck outside?”

Oscar shoulders past Logan into the room. “Yeah, mate. Abandoning your friends at the club? Not cool.”

Logan’s brow furrows in confusion until the previous night’s events come trickling back. The party, the near miss with the drugs, getting you safely away ...

His gaze drifts to the rumpled bed across the room where you’re just starting to stir, sheets tangled around your legs. A soft smile tugs at Logan’s lips as he watches you blink owlishly.

“Earth to Logan?” Lando waves a hand in front of his face. “You still with us?”

“What? Yeah, sorry.” Logan drags his attention back to the two drivers. “Look, I can explain about last night ...”

“No need to explain why you ditched us,” Oscar interjects with a suggestive wink toward the bed. “We can figure that part out for ourselves.”

You sit upright then, the sheets pooling around your waist as you rub your eyes. “Whas’ goin’ on?”

“Well, well!” Lando exclaims with a salacious grin. “If it isn’t the life of the party herself! Get up to any ... extracurriculars last night?”

Heat creeps up the back of Logan’s neck as you glance between the three of them in sleepy bewilderment. A strangled laugh escapes Oscar’s lips as the realization hits both of them. You and Logan lock eyes from across the room, equally mortified.

“No, wait! It’s not what it looks like!” Logan splutters.

Lando claps a hand on his shoulder with a pitying look. “It’s alright, mate. You don’t have to be ashamed about finally getting some action.”

“But I didn’t!” Logan insists, running a flustered hand through his hair. “Y/N, tell them!”

Untangling yourself from the sheets, you slide off the bed — giving everyone an eyeful of the fact that you’re only wearing one of Logan’s hoodies. His breath catches in his throat because damn if you don’t look incredible drowning in his clothes.

Your bare feet pad across the carpet until you’re standing before him, fingers playing with the worn cotton hem. “He’s right, you two. We didn’t ... you know.”

Hurt flashes across Logan’s face before he can squelch it back down. Right, of course you wouldn’t want that after all the lines he crossed last night. You’d been drunk and vulnerable and now you were regretting everything, including the–

“We kissed! But it doesn’t have to mean anything,” he blurts out, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “I got Y/N out of a bad situation and we may have, uh, gotten a little carried away in the heat of the moment. But she was drunk and it won’t happen again, I swear.”

An awkward silence falls over the room, broken only by Lando’s snort of laughter. “No rizz, this one.”

Logan’s jaw clenches. He knew they’d tease him about it, but he’s a grown man and he doesn’t need to take it from the likes of–

“Logan.”

Your voice is soft but it cuts through the embarrassment swirling in his mind. You take his face gently in your hands and he’s helpless but to meet your warm gaze.

“What if I want it to mean something?”

The air whooshes out of him in a surprised breath. His hands find your waist of their own accord like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Y-You do?”

Behind you, Oscar groans. “God, he’s so hopeless.”

“I think it’s sweet!” Lando retorts. “Innocent, you know? Like a puppy getting all flustered.”

Logan blocks them out, his whole world narrowing to the amused, almost fond smile playing across your lips. You nod, leaning further into his embrace.

“I meant what I said last night, Logan. You’re the sweetest, most caring guy I’ve ever met. And I like you.” Your nose wrinkles adorably. “A lot, actually.”

He blinks rapidly, certain his heart is about to burst out of his chest. “Y/N, I ... I like you too. So much.”

Laughing that rich, warm laugh of yours, you loop your arms around his neck and rise up on your tiptoes. Logan meets you halfway, melting into the heated press of your lips against his.

Catcalls and wolf-whistles finally penetrate the happy bubble enveloping you both. You break the kiss with a breathless giggle, burrowing your face into the crook of Logan’s neck.

“Oi, lovebirds!” Oscar hollers. “Get a room!”

“Yeah, we’ve already got one!” Logan shoots back, surprising himself with the retort. He winks cheekily at you and you positively beam in response, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Alright, that’s our cue!” Lando steers Oscar toward the door. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do, you crazy kids!”

The door slams behind them, leaving you and Logan alone in blissful quiet. His arms tighten around your waist, keeping you pressed flush against him. For a few heartbeats, you simply drink each other in, basking in the unfamiliar but not unwelcome feelings bubbling up.

Eventually you break the spell with a featherlight brush of your lips against the corner of Logan’s mouth. “So, was that too forward? I shouldn’t have just sprung that on you ...”

“No!” He rushes to reassure you. “God, no. I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You poke his chest lightly, eyes dancing with mirth. “Not even racing?”

Logan chuckles, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. “Okay, maybe one other thing. But you’re definitely in the top two.”

Winding your arms back around his neck, you arch one brow mischievously. “Only top two? I’ll have to work on that ...”

His breath catches in his throat at the playful promise in your tone. “I, uh ... I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

As you lean in to kiss him again, Logan can’t help but silently thank Lando and Oscar for dragging him to that party. True, the night didn’t go exactly as expected. But he wound up with the greatest prize of all — you, here in his arms, carefree and happy and perfect in every way.

Like the gentleman his mama raised him to be, Logan vows silently to cherish every moment with you. After all, only a fool would look a gift horse like you in the mouth.

***

Adrenaline still thrums through Logan’s veins as he exits parc fermé, helmet tucked under his arm. His cheeks ache from the wide grin stretched across his face — a double points finish was exactly what Williams needed.

Alex falls into step beside him, equally elated after their impressive showing on the track today. They did good, really good. Logan can’t wait to celebrate with the whole team.

As they approach the Williams garage, a familiar head of hair catches Logan’s eye. You’re standing front and center, bouncing on the balls of your feet with poorly contained excitement. A large bakery box is clutched in your hands, the elaborate logo on the lid leaving little doubt as to its expensive contents.

Logan’s grin widens impossibly further. Of course you’d be here with treats in tow, always ready to turn any occasion into a party. His heart swells with affection just watching you eagerly await his and Alex’s return.

The rest of the team notice their arrival and erupt into cheers, crowding around to clap the drivers on the back with jubilant congratulations. You hang back, though your whole face is lit up with unabashed pride.

“Nice one out there, lads!” An engineer calls over the ruckus.

“About time we had a good points haul,” Another mechanic agrees.

Logan waves off the compliments with a bashful duck of his head. The team has been through so much in recent seasons — they deserve this moment more than he does.

“Alright, alright! Give the boys some space to breathe!” A familiar voice rings out.

You shove your way through the throngs of people, bounding right up to Logan with a brilliant grin. He has a split second to brace himself before you launch into his arms, nearly sending him toppling backward with the force of your enthusiasm.

“You were brilliant!” You exclaim, planting an exuberant kiss on his cheek that has him blushing furiously. “Both of you! I’m so proud!”

Alex chuckles fondly as you untangle yourself from Logan just enough to loop an arm around the other man’s shoulders. “We couldn’t have done it without the team’s hard work. You should be proud of them.”

“Oh, I am!” You turn your beaming smile on the rest of the crew. “Which is why I brought a little celebratory treat!”

Holding up the bakery box with a waggle of your brows, you peel back the lid to reveal a massively decadent-looking chocolate cake. It’s one of the most elaborate confections Logan has ever laid eyes on.

A reverent hush falls over the assembled group as they all lean in to get a better look. The air is suddenly thick with the rich scent of cocoa and buttercream frosting.

“Blimey, Y/N! That must’ve set you back a pretty penny!” Alex exclaims.

You wave him off with a casual flap of your hand. “Oh, please! You don’t even want to know how many races I’ve brought an expensive cake to just in case. I’m just glad I finally got to use this one!”

A ripple of laughter rolls through the crew at that. Logan shakes his head in fond exasperation, equal parts endeared and unsurprised by your extravagant gesture.

When your gaze lands on him again, warmth blooms in his chest at the open adoration shining in your eyes. You look at him like he’s the most impressive thing you’ve ever seen, not some lucky racer who simply played a tiny part in today’s success.

Liquid courage from the race still thrumming through his veins, Logan acts on impulse. Plucking the cake box deftly from your grip, he passes it off to a bewildered Alex before cupping your face in his hands and kissing you soundly.

A startled squeak quickly melts into a pleased hum as you melt against him, looping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Logan pours every ounce of his pride and affection for you into the heated press of his lips, uncaring of the captive audience for once.

Hoots and hollers finally break through the rosy haze fogging Logan’s mind. He breaks the kiss with a breathless chuckle, thumbs brushing over the delightfully flushed apples of your cheeks.

“Get a room, you two!” Alex hollers with a roll of his eyes.

The rest of the crew quickly devolves into jokes and ribbing at your expense, but Logan couldn’t care less. With you smiling up at him like he hung the moon, the rest of the world simply falls away.

“You taste like chocolate,” he murmurs, brushing his nose against yours.

The impish grin you shoot him in return makes his heart stutter. “Well, it wouldn’t be a proper party without dessert.”

An arm slings around Logan’s shoulders, disrupting the little bubble you’ve found yourselves cocooned in. He startles, having completely forgotten about the dozens of other people still milling about.

“Well isn’t this just precious!” Gaetan, Logan’s race engineer, gives him an affectionate shake. “Young love blossoming right here in the garage!”

Red blooms high on Logan’s cheeks even as your melodic giggles wash over him. He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly.

“We’re not that young.”

“Could’ve fooled me!” Gaetan retorts with a bark of laughter. “You two have more spark than the rest of the kids around here combined.”

Your hand finds Logan’s, tangling your fingers together as you lean bodily into his side. For a fleeting moment, he allows himself to bask in the happiness surrounding him. It’s like floating, secure in the knowledge that you’ll always be right here to keep him grounded.

“You know,” you begin softly, batting your lashes up at Logan. “This might just be my new favorite party.”

A surprised huff of laughter escapes him. But really, he shouldn’t be so shocked. From the moment he met you, it was clear you had an unparalleled zest for life. You see the joy and potential for a good time in every single occasion. It’s one of the many, many things Logan loves about you.

“Your favorite, huh?” He bends to press his forehead to yours, drinking in your radiant smile. “I’ll remember this one, then.”

Because no matter how many parties, races, or adventures you two share moving forward, Logan vows to cherish each and every one with you by his side. After all, every single moment is worth celebrating when you get to spend it with the person you love most.

[seethesin]

vampires everywhere!

pairing: Vampire!Hazel Callahan x F!Monster Hunter!Reader

tags/warnings: sexual content, hazel & reader are 18+, supernatural/vampire au, blood kink, heavy petting, biting, cunnilingus, teasing (18+, mdni)

a/n: based on the request by anonymous found here. i know i said i'd wait until we got closer to halloween, but this idea had a chokehold on me. gif pack/gif credit.

click here for part two!

"You came."

There's genuine relief in your target's disembodied voice as you enter the mausoleum. You look around frantically, squinting to try and adjust to the darkness. It's impossible though and suddenly, your hostess drops from the ceiling. She lands neatly on her feet, looming over you as she rocks gleefully on her heels. Startled, you back into the door.

She stands at average height with unkempt brown hair. Her skin is translucent; even in the dark, the blue plume of her veins crawls up her neck. A broad, boyish smile plays on her lips, revealing a pristine pair of fangs.

"I'm Hazel."

On instinct, you draw your silver stake. The tip presses precisely into her chest and she smirks.

"Feels like someone's happy to see me tonight."

You dig the stake deeper, watching as it tears a hole through her shirt and pierces her skin. Moments later, the scent of rotting, burning flesh fills your lungs and you cough. Droplets of blood drip from the wound and carefully, Hazel uses her middle finger to clean up the excess. She slips the digit in her mouth, sucking it clean as her skin sizzles against the silver. Her cheeks hollow sinfully and you gulp, your mouth watering.

You were disgusted with yourself. You were supposed to kill her, not fuck her.

"I'm thrilled," you respond blankly, gripping the hilt of your weapon steady. "Thrilled to dispose of another leech."

Hazel sneers, leaning back so that the tip of your stake unsheathes itself from her flesh. Moments later, the wound begins to heal itself.

"We both know that's not the reason," she singsongs, glacier-blue eyes gleaming with mischief.

Okay, maybe it's not the entire reason.

Through the monster hunter grapevine, you heard of a nightclub that hosted some high-profile fiends—The Last Drop. Many of the frequent flyers had bounties on their heads and you were eager to cash in.

As you spent your nights staking the place out, there was one person that you always noticed. It was the girl currently hovering over you, wearing her smile like a gold star on her chest. Like clockwork, Hazel left every time by four in the morning. Where she went after that you didn't know. But you would be lying if you said she didn't distract you from your main mission.

Hence why you were currently in this predicament. Curiosity got the best of you tonight and you followed Hazel back to whatever this was. Her lair? Her home? Her timeshare?

A snarky comment is readied on your tongue, but it dissolves as soon as you feel her mouth on yours. Your eyes go wide as saucers and your grip on your weapon falters. The stake hits the floor with a clatter that echoes throughout the high ceiling. Hazel's tongue slips between your parted lips and you taste the iron of her blood. Her fangs graze against your lower lip, drawing blood that she laps up eagerly.

Regaining control, you rip your face away from hers. Your breathing is shallow as you stare at her, bewildered. Hazel cackles in delight, drinking the sight of your swollen and bloody lips.

"I can read your thoughts, sweetheart. Don't they teach you that in Van Helsing school?"

Blush crawls up your neck and you lean into the door, defeated. This was beyond humiliating. To be completely bested by your enemy like this was difficult to recover from. You refuse to look at her willingly, but she closes the distance between you again. Her fingers pinch your chin, tugging it up so that you're forced to look at her.

Suddenly, you're dragged up the door, caged in between Hazel's arms. Her palms are planted at each side of your head and her thigh slips in between your legs.

"Guess not," she mutters, clearly amused.

The pressure of her thigh against your cunt makes you gasp. The rough denim of her jeans brushes against pussy, making you cant your hips. You refuse to admit it out loud, but you want more.

Thankfully, Hazel doesn't need to hear you say it.

Her hands grip your hips, holding you steady as she drags you down the length of her thigh.

"Oh god," you whisper, eyes screwed shut as you dig half moons into your palms. The sensation felt too good.

"Like that?"

You go mute. Hazel huffs, pushing you back up the length of her thigh.

"Gotta use your words," she urges and your eyes shoot open into a glare. Hazel's stupid grin does not falter as she leers predatorily at you. "If you don't, you're not cumming."

You whine.

It comes out before you can filter your thoughts. Your hands fly to your mouth, glancing up at Hazel as her intimidating stare melts into something mirthful.

She begins to laugh, adding to your embarrassment.

"There she is."

Her knee remains pressed into the wall, watching you expectantly. Defeated, you roll your hips, stealing friction between the fabric of your clothing. Eagerly, Hazel leans in. Her mouth is on your skin, kissing across your jawline and down the slope of your neck. You feel her teeth graze your flesh before quickly, her fangs pierce into your skin.

You moan, reflexively jerking away before leaning back into Hazel's unnaturally cool touch. Her tongue pokes out from her mouth, lapping the blood that drools from your fresh wound. Her hands slide into yours, pinning them against the door. She removes her thigh from between your legs and you whimper at the loss of contact.

"If your blood tastes this good," she begins, removing one hand from your wrist, only for the other hand to gather them both between her fingers. She presses your wrists back into the wall as her free hand sinks down your abdomen. Her hand slides to your pants, fingers sliding up the length of your clothed cunt. Your blood roars in your ears.

"I can't imagine what your pussy tastes like."

"Then do it."

Your statement is so immediate it makes Hazel flinch. She blinks in shock, looking up at you with the same surprise you experienced minutes ago.

"Yeah?" she asks and you nod curtly.

"Don't make me change my mind, leech."

Hazel beams.

Quickly, she brings you back onto the floor. Your fingers are at your pants, unzipping and unbuttoning the fly before shoving them down your thighs. You shimmy out of them, discarding them onto the floor. Your underwear follows soon after.

Hazel stares unabashedly, pupils dilated wide as her hands are on your waist. She hoists you back up against the door, positioning you so that she's between your legs, knees hanging over her shoulders as she stands eye level with your weeping pussy.

You feel Hazel's lips on your skin, her warm breath sharply contrasting the cold grip her fingers have on your body. A string of moans pushes from your throat as you feel her kiss across your inner thighs. Her fangs pierce the soft skin, drawing blood as her tongue cleans up the mess they leave. Your fingers thread into her dark hair, tugging firmly to guide her closer to where you need her most.

She chuckles and the vibrations go straight to your throbbing clit.

"So impatient," she tuts, but concedes and follows your somatic demand.

Her tongue darts out from her lips, kitten licking the length of your slit to your clit. You sigh out, rutting your hips toward Hazel's face as she envelops her lips around your clit. She sucks sharply and your eyes nearly roll into the back of your skull. You're not going to last long and Hazel doesn't need to read your mind to know that too.

It's when she fucks you with her tongue that you that you finally cum. The dam in your gut shatters and a wave of pleasure washes over you. Your nails claw at Hazel's scalp, shoving her in place as you grind your cunt into her eager tongue. Her hold does not falter, keeping you steady until your labored breathing evens out. After a few moments, her head darts out from between your legs. Even in the darkness, the shine of spittle and slick glows on her chin.

"How was that?" It was your turn to be cocky and you relished every moment of it.

Hazel lowers you back onto the floor, allowing you to locate your discarded clothing. She wipes her chin, the flat of her tongue licking off the remnants on her palm.

"You tell me." She tosses the question back to you as you pull your underwear over your hips.

"Well," you start, stepping in and pulling up your pants. You meet Hazel's inquisitive gaze as you fasten the button and pull the zipper up. A shit-eating grin cracks across your face.

"You're still alive, right?"

[esthercore]

𝐓𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐲 (Yandere! Sunday x Reader)

Gn! Reader (sub/bottom reader)

Desperate Pining series - Sunday edition

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3

CW: power play, sexual guilt, desperation, mind fuck, mind break, yandere doing yandere stuff, sunday being sunday, conditioning, sunday molding reader

Play the song for best experience

You had made many mistakes in your life, joining the Iris family, your career choice, but none could compare to falling for Sunday, the Oak family's head, daring to pine for him romantically, while all you were a mere performer, hell, not even an innocent singer or actor, you were a host/hostess in a nightclub, a glorified whore.

You could never forget the day you saw the angel, in the club during your shift, as he entertained some family's guests.

The way he walked, talked, moved, breathed, it cause your brain wiring to fuse in mere seconds. He was holy, divine, just a mere look at him, caused your heartbeat to palpate an unhealthy amount.

And Xipe, in all their glory, gazed your way they day, as you were picked to serve his table, god, his melodious voice left you all tingly, breath heavy.

The way he looked at you with such softness, his pretty smile, making you to whimper unconsciously, your thighs rubbing together in your tiny little bunny suit, your pussy wet / cock already dripping pre cum.

So you found yourself moaning and inside a restroom stall, one hand inside your underwear, other in your mouth, to prevent any noise to escape, albeit you were doing a terrible job in it.

Your vision started swirlling around, purple curvy borders around you, as if you're looking at a screen, your mind entirely consumed by thoughts about Sunday, till the second you orgasmed.

It felt, dirty, dirtier than you were used to feeling, as you knelt on the bathroom floor, panting, heart heavy, longing, your body jittery and mind confused at your actions. But most importantly guilt, guilt for lewding someone so holy, a guilt akin to felt when sinning, yet, double as tempting to repeat.

And all those feeling increased exponentially, as you got out the stall, only for your eyes to meet those golden ones through the reflection in the mirror.

"You make such cute noises, there's no need to hold them back," he said, as he turned around and stepped closer to you, your heartbeats resonating with his footsteps, only for your brain to stop working as he took your hand and kissed the area you had bit earlier, staring deep in your eyes.

From that moment on, you memories remains a blur, the kisses, the touch, the luxury hotel room which you could'nt have ever afford, and the tears.

And God, did that strange guilt scare you off, you don't really remember it yourself how you physically jolted at the thought of him penetrating you, daring to refuse the leader of Penacony, making him settle for a sloppy blow job and a thigh fuck, you barely even touching him, making him do all the work.

Yet, the man was gracious enough to let you stay over in the room for the night, blessing you with the opportunity to wake up next to him.

"Won't you pay me back for this opportunity, little sheep?" He asked you, caressing your cheeks gently, his touch akin to a whisper, light, sight, barely there, reminding you how you dared to reject his affection last night.

So you stayed, helping him get ready, buttoning his shirt for him, as he read some texts on his phone, tying his tie, the way he liked, getting him some coffee and breakfast from the breakfast buffet in lounge, because he's too prestigious to mix in common folk, all while he scrutinized you whenever you didn't do the tasks the exact way he liked.

And the second he left the room, you felt hollow, as if your heart had a gaping hole in between as if he took away a part of your soul with him. So imagine the unfathomable amount of joy you felt when Sunday kept frequenting the club more and more, always picking you to serve his table, giving you that kind look, praising you, doing everything in your power to please him, putting extra effort in everything.

All that, only for your heart to break when you heard the whispers about Sunday starting to indulge in some of your co-workers in bed.

Cause, after all, your sin wasn't craving the angel's attention, but to even think you could ever deserve it.

Your weeks your brain stuck on the thought, if the Sunday will come back in club the next day, if he will ask you to serve or not, or will he ask your co-workers, the one who get to lay with him at night. Will he get disgusted by you soon, get tired of pathetic little you.

But till then, those few hours serving were enough, despite the pain and longing, you were willing to suffer if it meant keeping that damn smile in your life.

All such thoughts spiralling in your head 24/7, causing you to get anxious randomly, to the point, your friends started worrying about you. As your self esteem started dwindled down, day by day, as you kept comparing yourself with him.

So it was a shocker when one day the man showed up near the cramped dingy alleyways you live in, greeting you with the same sweet smile, as the first day, you saw him.

You humored the man for some while, best to your capabilities as your breath started to get heavier and heavier in his presence, only able to look at him with a longing gaze, his words flying over your head, till you both stood in silence for a while, your brain to gushy to realize.

"You know, little lamb, you really need to learn some from Sydney," he said, pulling you out of your daydream, gently brushing your cheek with two fingers, then using them to slap your cheeks lightly.

You winced at the name of your co-worker, the one labeled as 'Sunday's favorite',

"I-"

"Invite me to your apartment," he instructed, cutting you off "It's only polite to continue our conversation, inside, right?"

So there you were in your tiny, cramped, studio apartment, he thought of your living condition to be proud, that much was visible on his face, as you brewed him some tea, the most expensive one you had, which was probably too cheap for Sunday's taste, while he chewed your head off on speaking about random things.

But mostly instructing you how to do things properly, like pouring him tea, how to serve him, how to sit properly, and so on. Which you followed diligently, of course, Mr. Sunday, is a kind soul, teaching someone like you, how to behave.

"(Y/n), replace your black net stockings with white ones" he instructed, referencing to your work uniform, before leaving.

So you did, the next day serving him, like a "good boy/girl" those words causing your face to flush, redder than a tomato.

And you got rewarded alright, as he lead you to the same hotel room, from your first night. This time the experience was more sweeter, gentler, yet you still had a break down at the thought of getting penetrated by him.

Heart pounding hard, you got a full-on panic attack this time, getting coddled by Sunday, as he has you sit on his lap, facing him, his dick rubbing against your pretty hole, as he cooed on you, his one hand patting your back, while caressed your face.

"Darling, you had no problem, jumping on Hudson's dick, what's wrong with me?" he asked, out of nowhere, as his hand now grabbed the behind the back of your neck, causing you to whimper.

"W-who?"

"Ah, so you don't remember your clients, huh? How sweet of you, to happily lay with someone whose name you can't recall, over the man, who's been kind enough to hide you in your stupid mistakes"

He sighed, hitting your cheeks with two of his fingers.

"Tell me, my little lamb, what do you think, when you see me?" He asked, his lips laying on your Adam's apple.

"P-preety" you whispered out.

"That so, doll?" he took whispered, taking your hands, and putting it on his face, "if you think, i'm preety lay your hands on me," Sunday said, as you looked in your eyes, an desperate expression in his gold eyes.

To be continued ~

Have you longed for someone so much so, you start feeling disgusting?

Can't you tell I'm desperate? Can't you tell I'm cheap? You don't gotta love me, we don't have to speak I'll see you in the morning, if you gotta leave I'll see you when I see you You Were a Dream - Artemas

(Excuse me if this was bad, It's my first fic and I'm suffering for horrible period cramps )

[forestofstarlight]

Open Starter: A Silver Lining (Submissive Muses Preferred)

Loud club music plays as you walk into Silver Lining, the most well-rated and highly profitable brothel and nightclub in all of the realms. Despite the modern appearance of the interior, there were beings of all species enjoying their time inside.

A women walks up to you, her silver eyes staring through you with both calmness and power.

“Welcome to Silver Lining. I am Silver, the owner and your hostess for tonight. How may I help you?” She asks, an air of seduction in her voice.

[rani-ki]

pov: you're a hostess at a nightclub but your patrons forgot about you 🥂

[hunnysnoops]

₊˚｡⋆❆ 𝔹𝕦𝕣𝕟 𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖 ❆⋆｡˚₊

Chapter Two: Vanilla Baby

Kenny McCormick x fem reader

Pages after pages I write for me and no one else. Standing tall, no brick in the wall, I take care of myself. Fickle is as fickle does as solitary links. My, oh my, it's hard because she says just what she thinks

Also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!

Premise: Family dinner diverts a bit from what you’re used to.

Warnings: crude language and humour / EDNOS alluded

MASTERLIST

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

You reluctantly step out of the car into the crisp winter evening, your breath visible in the cold air. The restaurant in front of you is grand, its large windows glowing warmly against the dark night. You pull your coat tighter around you, wishing you could just stay in the comfort of your room with your dog and a nice playlist. But Todd had been pushing both you and your mother to come to the restaurant he frequented with his buddies from work.

As you walk through the heavy wooden doors, you're immediately greeted by a wave of warmth and the sound of clinking glasses and murmured conversations. The noise swallows you, making you feel even smaller and more out of place. Your mom gives you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder and leaves her hand to rest there.

Todd was already rambling, deep into a story about his day at work. "So, there I was, in the middle of this big presentation, and wouldn't you know it, the projector decided to quit on me!" he says, chuckling. "Had to wing it with just a whiteboard and a marker. Felt like I was back in school, you know? But hey, I think I nailed it!"

"I'm sure you did," Your mother smiles in return. The restaurant is beautiful, with chandeliers sparkling above and elegant decorations adding to the festive atmosphere. But all you can think about is how overwhelming it all feels, the lights dimmed to the point it could've been a nightclub.

Todd is still talking, his voice rising above the din of the restaurant. "And then, Jim, y'know, Nancy's husband- oh man, that guy's a character, he-" Todd cracks up in a laugh before even finishing his story "He said-" He tries to speak between his muffled giggles "He said 'did you hear about the guy who dipped his balls in glitter?' and I'm like 'no, what the heck, that's weird,' and then Jim says 'pretty nuts, right?'"

You weren't sure how your mom ever came about liking Todd, she was standoffish, albeit not as quiet as you. She always wrinkled her nose in distaste at loud and obnoxious people, and then she married one and was happier than she had ever been.

A hostess with a sleek black dress and a bright smile approaches, Todd breaks apart from you and your mother for a moment to speak to her, he's still stifling giggles as he does so. The hostess your group to a table near the center of the dining room. You cringe internally at the spot, feeling far too exposed for your liking.

You sit down and try to focus on the menu, though the unfamiliar dishes and elaborate descriptions only add to your stiffness. The menu is printed on heavy, cream-coloured paper, the kind that speaks of luxury and refinement. As you scan the options, your eyes widen at the prices. Everything is so expensive. The entrees are listed with descriptions that go on for several lines, each word seeming to add another dollar to the price.

"Jeez, enough about me," Todd finally caps off yet another story, turning his attention to you "How was your day, kiddo?"

"Good," you reply, glancing down at the menu.

"How was skating?" He asks and then lowers his voice, a little smile on his face while he raises a brow "How's Craig?"

"Oh, Craigs gay," Your mom gives him a little swat on the arm.

"Really? That's awesome," Todd does a little fist pump under the table "He's way nicer than that guy you were dating. What's his name? Y'know the one with the horse teeth."

"Spencer," Your mom fills in the blank and you feel the heat rise to your face, sinking deeper into your chair, lips pressed in a thin line.

"Yeah, Spencer. What an asshole." Todd mutters as he surveys the drink menu. "He was very ratty."

"Wouldn't be surprised if he was in that kitchen under a chef's hat."

Todd huffs a loud boisterous laugh, slapping his knee and wiping tears away from his eyes. With a shaky breath, he steadies himself and looks up at you through his brows "You're driving tonight."

"What?" Your heart picks up. Driving never came easy to you, it made you nervous. You had to go through driving school twice and take your N test three times before you were finally given a license, you thought that they let you pass out of pity.

"I'm drinking, your mom's drinking. Everyone's drinking except you,"

You don't say anything, eyes going wide as you look to your mom for confirmation.

"Yup, I'm getting wasted," She says, looking down at the wine selection "That's why we brought you."

"Not quite," Todd holds out a finger "Speak for yourself, I brought you for some quality family time and some thick juicy cuts of steak."

"Honey, you should get the tomahawk," Your mom murmurs leaning into Todd on their side of the table and pointing at her menu. "What are you getting?" Your mom asks to which you shrug.

"Did you paint your nails?" Todd looks up from his menu, you nod in return. He reaches across the table and grabs your hand, holding it up and inspecting your nail art skills, "Wow, pretty, right?"

"Very," Your mom smiles at the pair of you.

"Should I get this colour?" He asks your mom, comparing your hand to his own. He turns his attention to the waiter who now hovers by the table, Todd holds your hand up "What do you think?"

"Great colour," Kenny says with a smile, his voice smooth and professional, but with a hint of friendliness. Your face drops at the sight of him, eyes going wide like your roadkill caught in headlights. He's wearing a white button-up rolled up to his elbows, a black apron tied around his waist, and you can see the tattoo on his forearm that you never even knew existed. At first, you thought it to be a butterfly but on a second glance, you can see it's a moth with stars on the wings where spots should be. "Good to see you again, Todd."

"Likewise, Ken," He smiles, slinging an arm over your mom's shoulder "This is my gorgeous wife and my beautiful daughter, well step-daughter, same difference. They're pretty quiet but it's okay, I talk enough for the three of us." That statement was surely ringing true as he grinned brightly at Kenny. His voice is loud, and confident, and carries across the room, contrasting sharply with the quieter murmur of the surrounding conversations.

"You must have beat men off with a stick," Kenny grins at Todd, casting a brief glance at you.

"You'd think, right?" He laughs "She doesn't leave the house long enough for the boys to even see her!" Silently, you curse him. Your mom pinches her nose bridge, gently tapping Todd on the thigh as a signal to reel it in. "Anyways," Todd clears his throat "This is Kenny, best guy around."

It was moments like these you wished you wished that Todd wasn't so extroverted. While you thought it was sweet he and your mom balanced each other out and he always had good intentions, his mouth moved faster than his thoughts and he was never able to stop himself from talking at a mile a minute. "Thank you, thank you," Kenny tilts his head in the slightest "Can I start you off with something to drink?"

"Red wine please, malbec, if you don't have that then the merlot," Your mom gives him a thin-lipped smile.

"We do indeed have Malbec," Kenny jots it down onto his notepad and looks to Todd "Let me guess, soma?"

Just when you think it isn't possible for Todd to smile anymore, he does "What did I tell you?" His gaze flicks between you and your mom "Best guy around, he knows me."

"I try," Then, Kenny turns to you, and you can feel your cheeks heating up. "And for you?" he asks, his eyes meeting yours.

You look down at the menu, your mind racing. "Um, water, please," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Kenny nods, scribbling it down. "Alright, I'll get those right out for you."

When Kenny retreats back to the server station by the bar to fill in your orders your mom nudges Todd "Can you calm down a bit? you're embarrassing her."

"Me?" Todd asks, looking at you with a hand pressed flat over his heart. Todd chuckles. "Kenny doesn't care! he's a good kid. Plays hockey, works hard. And he's cute, right?" Clearly, you had underestimated how close Todd was to the staff here. You would've thought he had known Kenny for years but in reality, he was just an overly friendly regular.

You bury your face in your hands, wishing you could disappear. "Please, stop."

"Someone's blushing," Todd leans over and pokes your shoulder. "You got a crush?" You quickly shake your head, no. Todd waves you off "You go to the same rink, y'know?" He sits up like a brilliant idea just brushed his mind "You should be friends with him!"

Just as a deer might freeze at the slightest rustle of leaves, you tense at the unexpected words as the conversation turns toward you. Your eyes, wide and panicked, dart around nervously, searching for an escape route or a safe place to retreat and silently pleading that he doesn't push the conversation further.

"Honey, you know she doesn't make friends easily, she can't just become buddies with the waiter," Your mom says. It seemed like every word that came from their mouths was worse than the last. If you were loud enough you might scream from frustration.

"I know but it doesn't hurt to try," He says "How did the brownies go at school? Did everyone like them?"

"Todd, she's almost an adult, not a child." Your mom answers for you "Brownies don't make friendships in high school."

"Why not?" He asks "Everyone loves brownies, if someone gave me a brownie, we would be friends right away. Make twenty brownies and you have twenty new friends."

"She has Craig, and I'm happy with that. Just be glad she isn't crawling the streets with junkies and shooting up heroin."

"Okay," Todd raises his hands in defence "I'm glad."

Kenny comes back to the table, placing your drinks down in front of each of you. Your mom wastes no time in reaching for her glass and taking a sip. "So, how's figure skating going?" he asks casually, surprising you as he places your father's beer down.

Your heart skips a beat. "Fine," You mumble. Your parents look at you expectantly "Uh, how's hockey?"

"Pretty good," he says with a smile. "Got a tournament coming up so there's extra practice on the table."

Your mom and Todd exchange amused glances, clearly noticing the exchange. Todd grins. "Ah, so you two know each other from the rink, huh? Small world."

"Yeah," Kenny says, still looking at you. "She gave me some pointers the other day, she's really good."

"Why didn't I hear about this?" Your mom asks with a smile though there's something brewing in her eyes that tells you that you'll be discussing this later. You answer her with a brief shrug.

"Are we ready to order dinner?" Kenny breaks the unspoken tension between you and your mom.

"I'll have the grilled salmon with lemon butter sauce," she says, handing her menu back to Kenny. "And could I get a side of roasted vegetables with that, please?"

"Absolutely," Kenny replies, jotting down the order. "And for you, sir?" he asks, turning to Todd.

Todd grins, clearly enjoying the interaction. "I think I'll go for the tomahawk steak, medium rare," he says. "With a side of garlic mashed potatoes and sautéed spinach."

"Great choice," Kenny says, his pen moving swiftly across the notepad. "And for you?" He looks at you, his smile softening as he meets your eyes.

Frantically, you scan the menu again, searching for the cheapest thing. You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. "Just the garden salad, please."

"Any protein in that?" He asks "We've got chicken, salmon, kidney beans, goat cheese, edamame, tofu, prosciutto, mozzarella, tuna, shrimp."

"No, thank-

"Yes," Todd cuts you off "You need to eat more, you're an athlete. Do you remember what I told you about lean proteins?" He says "Can you throw some chicken in there?"

Kenny looks to you for confirmation "Do you want chicken in your salad."

"Sure," You press your lips into a thin line and hand him your menu.

"That's my girl," Todd nods, taking a swig of his beer. Todd decides to take his teasing to a new level. "You know, Kenny," he starts, leaning back in his chair with a grin and motions for Kenny to come closer. Kenny leans down slightly to hear Todd "My daughter thinks you are SO cute."

You freeze, eyes shooting to avoid making contact with anyone at the table face carefully blank and growing hot. Kenny looks momentarily surprised, but then a wide, amused grin spreads across his face. "Is that so?" he asks, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as he looks at you.

Your mom chuckles, trying to smooth things over but clearly enjoying the moment. "Todd, that's enough."

You sink lower in your seat, wishing you had faked an illness and were curled up under your duvet. Kenny, however, seems to be enjoying every second of your embarrassment. He leans slightly closer, his grin never faltering. "Well, I'm flattered," he says softly. "I'll go get your orders in," he says, though his eyes linger on you a moment longer. "But I'll be around if you need anything else."

"Why did you say that?" You exasperate, keeping your voice hushed "You were the only one who called him cute and you're a fifty-year-old man."

"You need to face these things head-on sometimes," Todd says, his tone light-hearted though you felt heavier than you had ever been "You can't just put your headphones in and run off to hide somewhere-

"I'm going to the bathroom," you say abruptly, pushing yourself from the chair and begin navigating your way through the tables. As the initial embarrassment from Todd's comment hits you like a wave, you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. The friendly chatter around you fades into the background, and your heart starts to race.

"Oh," Todd raises his eyebrows in slight surprise "I stand corrected."

You catch Kenny's eyes while fleeing the scene, he looks at you and opens his mouth to speak but for once you beat him to it "Imsosososososorrypleaseignoremyparentshesmakingthingsupthanks." You say so fast that he doesn't even process the words and in the blink of an eye you're gone.

Once inside, you lock the door behind you and lean against the cool tile wall, taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself. The soft hum of the restaurant is muffled here, giving you a brief respite from the chaos of your thoughts. You start to pace back and forth, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

Why did Todd have to say that? You run your hands through your hair, feeling the frustration and embarrassment bubbling up.

You replay the moment in your mind, cringing at the memory of Todd's teasing and Kenny's amused grin. Pacing around the small bathroom, you try to calm your racing thoughts. You focus on your breathing, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, willing your heart to slow down. Despite your best efforts, the blush remains stubbornly on your cheeks.

It's not that you don't like Kenny. In fact, the opposite is true, and that's what makes it all the more overwhelming. His clear advances in days prior- it's all too much to handle at once.

You stop pacing and lean against the sink, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks are still flushed, your eyes wide and uncertain. You splash some cold water on your face, hoping it will help cool you down both physically and emotionally.

Had you been on your own, you wouldn't be worked up. That's how you liked it. Everything was easier when you were able to cut out what you didn't want but Todd's boisterous laughter was ringing through your head like a fork shoved into a blender.

Everything was embarrassing; Todd's rushed and unthoughtful comments, your mom's reminders to quiet down, and your reaction to all of it were only making it worse. You compose yourself the way you would a song or a speech, trying to remember who you were away from all of this humiliation.

You had been hiding in the bathroom far longer than you would've liked, to the point your mom was texting you to see if you were okay. You look back up at yourself in the mirror, giving a little thumbs up before pushing the door open and navigating back to your table.

As you return to the table, you find Kenny already there, the food has been dropped off and he's chatting easily with your mom and Todd. He's standing with a confident, relaxed posture, his smile bright and engaging. It's clear that your parents are thoroughly charmed by him.

"-and that's how I managed to get the puck into the net at the last second," Kenny is saying, finishing up a story. "It was a wild game."

Your mom laughs, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "That sounds amazing, Kenny. You must be a great hockey player."

Kenny chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck modestly. "I try my best."

Todd nods appreciatively. "That's the spirit. Teamwork makes all the difference. So, how do you balance hockey with school and work? That must be a lot to handle."

Kenny shrugs with a smile. "It keeps me busy, but I like it that way. Plus, it teaches me discipline and time management. And honestly, I enjoy all of it."As you take your seat, Kenny's eyes flicker to you, and he gives you a subtle, knowing smile. "Welcome back," he says warmly.

Todd, not missing a beat, leans forward with a grin. "You know, Kenny here was just telling us about his plans after high school. Sounds like he's got a bright future ahead."

"Oh?" you say, trying to sound casual "What are your plans?"

Kenny's smile widens as he looks at you. "I'm hoping to get a hockey scholarship. I've been talking to a few colleges, and things are looking promising."

Your mom claps her hands together, delighted. "That's incredible, you must be so excited."

"I am," Kenny admits, his gaze steady on yours. "But it's also a bit nerve-wracking. There's a lot of pressure, you know?" Kenny then shifts the conversation smoothly, including your parents again. "But enough about me. How about you all? Do you have any holiday plans?"

Todd laughs. "Just the usual family gatherings. Lots of food, lots of noise. You know how it is."

"Sounds like fun," Kenny says genuinely. "Family time is the best, especially during the holidays."

"Do you have a big family?"

"I do but I don't see them much, my older brother moved out and my sister lives in another city."

"That's too bad," Todd frowns exaggeratedly "Well, I hope you visit them."

"Yeah, as much as I can," He says, glancing around the restaurant "I really should check on my other tables but I will be around if you need anything at all."

You tune out of the conversation entirely, picking at your salad while Todd asks you questions before he answers them himself. "Why do you think it's called New Zealand? Was there an old Zealand or just Zealand?" He laughs "I'm just being silly."

The anxiety from earlier lingers at the edges of your mind, making it hard to fully enjoy the evening that you weren't fond of from the beginning. Your parents are engrossed in their conversation, Todd animatedly discussing a recent project at work while your mom listens attentively. You stay quiet, letting their voices wash over you as you try to push through the discomfort.

As you spear a leaf of crisp lettuce with your fork, your appetite feels as elusive as a whisper in the wind. Each bite is a struggle, the vegetables seeming to lose their crispness and flavour as soon as they touch your tongue. Your appetite had been curved by everything around you.

You try to force yourself to eat, pushing the fork through the salad. But each bite feels like a chore, the act of chewing becoming laborious and unenjoyable. Swallowing becomes a challenge, the food seeming to stick in your throat despite your efforts to wash it down with sips of water between each bite.

Your mom casts you a long glance, her eyebrows drawn in and lips downturned as she watches you place your fork down and push the remainder of your meal away, she bookmarks this little moment and decides to table it for another time.

Todd absolutely ravages his steak, tearing into the meat like a wild animal devouring what it could without knowing when it would eat again. You fought the urge to gag, instead turning your attention to your mom who elegantly sliced off bits of her salmon.

Just as you think the meal is winding down, Todd claps his hands together with a grin. "Alright, what do you say we order some dessert for the table? Can't leave this place without trying something sweet!"

Todd signals Kenny over, who arrives promptly with that ever-present smile. "Sounds like you're ready for dessert."

You immediately shake your head "No-

"You need to eat more," Todd says "Eat, eat, eat," He tries to create a little chant which your mom thankfully doesn't join in on. After silence falls over the table at his failed attempt to start a rally he clears his throat "Two chocolate lava cames and one tiramisu for the wife. This one bakes all the freaking time so she's a bit of a dessert connoisseur," He points at you and tilts his head.

A few minutes later, he returns with the desserts. The rich and enticing chocolate lava cake appears to have a molten centre just waiting to be found. The tiramisu is exquisitely layered, featuring creamy mascarpone and delicate ladyfingers dipped in espresso.

Kenny places the desserts on the table, but when he sets down the chocolate lava cake in front of you, you notice something extra. Right next to your dessert, on the edge of the plate, is a dollop of whipped cream shaped into a smiley face. You couldn't keep a straight face, your lips curved just the slightest though it doesn't go unnoticed by Kenny.

[haru-dipthong]

Really good anime translation: コタローは一人暮らし

I complained in a post a while ago about how I mostly think english translations of anime aren’t very good, and @japanwords asked me if there were any anime I know of that have good translations. I don’t actually watch that much anime so I didn’t have a good answer, but recently I found one that really fit the bill: 『コタローは一人暮らし』or “Kotaro lives alone”

For those who haven’t seen it, it’s a show about a 5 year old kid who lives alone without any parents or guardians, and makes friends with his neighbours in the apartment complex (a lazy manga artist, a woman who’s a hostess at a local nightclub, and a scary yakuza who finds Kotaro unbelievably cute). These friends end up helping Kotaro when he needs someone to act as a guardian, such as when he enrols at the local kindergarten.

The other thing you have to know about Kotaro is he speaks like a Japanese feudal lord.

This really is the crux of what makes the translation so good, because how the hell do you translate that?! The way they chose to do it is by using archaic english phrases. He kinda speaks like a Victorian era gentleman, and he sometimes even verges on sounding like a stereotypical medieval knight. This works perfectly, because Kotaro is actually imitating a character from his favourite cartoon: a samurai hero/feudal lord. Let’s look at some examples:

「放すである」 "Unhand me!"

A simple example to start with, I thought it might be interesting to compare how a 5 year old might actually say this, and how I would translate that:

「放してー！😭"」 "Let goooo! 😭"

Even though the japanese uses the same verb (放す), the english translation is completely different. The choice here to make it “unhand me” (much more evocative of a time period) instead of just “let go of me” (simply a longer way of saying it) is a perfect example of the care this anime puts into its translation.

狩野：「美月さん、アイス食べます？…… あれ？」 “Hey, Mizuki. Would you like an ice cream cone? …… Hello?” 美月：「アイスをもらうけど私、狩野くん誘ってないんだよなぁ」 “While I appreciate the ice cream, you know you weren’t actually invited, Karino.” コタロー：「お邪魔である」 “Interloper.”

邪魔 is a notoriously difficult word to translate, and the natural-sounding corresponding english phrase will vary quite wildly depending on the situation. In non-feudal lord speech, it usually gets translated to something like “you’re getting in my way” or “get out of here” or even “you’re a burden” (my least favourite).

Here, it’s creatively translated as “interloper”! A great way of sneaking in some archaic english while deftly handling a classically difficult-to-translate word.

コタロー：「わらわは写真が大の苦手なのだ」 “I am ill-disposed to having my picture taken!”

Here we have a slightly longer sentence which shows us a bit more of Kotaro’s unusual speech pattern. He uses the archaic first-person pronoun わらわ（妾）and often ends his sentences in なのだ. なのだ is not a particularly odd grammar structure to use, but it is unusual to use it unabbreviated (i.e. not shortening it to なんだ and/or adding よ to the end) especially when using it in speech rather than in writing. Not abbreviating it (as would be expected in a formal situation), but immediately contrasting that formality with the informal だ rather than です causes the speech to sound archaic without actually using any archaic vocabulary.

Now, if this show only translated the old-timey speech pattern well, I’d still call it a good translation. But the attention to detail and focus on natural sounding language extends to the other characters too!

Let’s take a look at an example of Karino’s speech. This is from ep 3; we already know a fair bit about who he is - a manga artist who doesn’t leave the house much (mostly works from home), usually wears comfortable clothes around, leaves things til the last minute and is generally a pretty lazy guy. I say this because the following translation doesn’t “work” (that is, the english and japanese wouldn’t mean the same thing) if it was spoken by a different kind of character.

phone rings 狩野：「担当さんかー」 “Oh great, it’s my editor” 狩野：「お疲れ様です、狩野です。… はい … 今日原稿を？はい、わかりました。じゃあ、後で」 “Hello, this is Karino. How may I help you? … Yes … Wait. Now, now? … Uh-huh, yes. Okay, thank you, I’ll be there soon.” コタロー：「どこか行くのか？」 “Do you need to go somewhere?” 狩野：「仕事。出版社に行く。今回もダメ出しされんのかな？」 “Yeah, I gotta go to work. There goes my day. … I’m sure he’ll just rip it apart like he always does.” 狩野：「あの人結構グサグサ刺さる事言うんだよなぁ」 “The way he criticises, it’s actually pretty hurtful.”

I really like this translation, it feels very clever and results in very natural sounding english. I said this wouldn’t work for a different character, but I think even for the same character, this translation wouldn’t work on ep 1 - the audience wouldn’t have the context for the translation to omit the specific words it does and get away with it.

For example, the line 「今日原稿を？」 directly refers to a manga draft, but the draft isn’t directly referred to in the english. But it ends up being ok, because we can infer that he’s handing in some sort of draft for review from a later line (”I’m sure he’ll just rip it apart…”). Also, 「出版社に行く」 directly states that he’s going to the publishing house, but the english simply refers to it as “work”. But we can infer this too - he’s going to see his editor, and since most of his work is drawing and writing, which he does at home, we know that when he says he’s “going to work”, he’s actually going to the publishing offices.

Prioritising the natural sound of the script over the specific details is a bold choice that really pays off, imo. This is some of the most natural english I’ve ever seen in an anime translation. I recommend checking it out if you’re interested!

[ask-the-chan-family]

OC-TOBER Day 20: Leia "Hot Maiden" O'Daniel

Commission by aerodoggy

Leia is a hostess at a nightclub where her mom, Cornelia O'Daniel dance at. During the night, Leia is a confident dragoness who can show a good night. But during the day she is an average nerd who enjoy video games and DND.

[hcfiles]

Someone here made a comment that led me to believe this person suspects Henry staged paternity for altruistic reasons that had nothing to do with the PR. The only generosity I see as possible, is totally addressed to the PR. Meaning, he might have felt in debt to her because of what she's been through for helping him promote his manhood. And, for so, he sacrificed the bridge with his fandom. But, he could easily have gotten s*x****y involved, for she was on display.

What I believe is that he decided to have Natalie appear pregnant to tease his fans, tired of being criticized. That's it. And he staged paternity to continue a shenanigan he can no longer deny. First, because this PR thing is a cover up for whoredom favouritism, promoted by his pimp and manager, who, once in a while, may arrange women with low scrupulous and curious to meet and hang out with Superman, to fulfill his urges. Also, denying it after all those lies, would reinforce what many think about him, now. This PR thing is nothing, but whoredom favouritism, in which actresses and escorts are arranged to hang out with her client who, at the same time, escorts for money and self-promotion.

Why did KC give up the PR stunt with him after 10 days? She probably didn't agree with some of the demands of the contract. Let's see. Who is Natalie Viscuso? Most of her public pictures before Henry's team cleaned her IG, show a very liberal woman used to "working" as a hostess in a (pedo?) nightclub, who announced herself as an escort in an adult site, who goes crazy when hanging out with her friends showing boobs and performing oral s*x and who is said to be a porn actress.

Based on all that, what it seems is this woman appears to be a well known escort among celebs, including actors, directors and producers, one who might have had the luck to be chosen to escort Superman. A high qualified employee in a production company would never expose herself the way she always did. This woman seems to be the scum trying to become respectful.

My guess is these PR stunts are arranged (pimped) by his management so he can have some s*x**l contact with women and ease his urges the same time he promotes his manhood, as he will stay with them for a while. Or it could disguise the fact he is gay. It's pros*******n disguised as a fake glamorous relationship.

It's a parallel business in Hollywood. These women are hired all the time by actors' management, directors and producers and they are all over the red carpet, the entrance of the Hollywood brothel. And, now that it was exposed, he must be desperate to hide the truth and will do whatever it takes to avoid that from coming out, pretending they are a real couple, while he has his needs fulfilled.

The only people he's protecting are from his management and PR team.

[yutahoes]

Polarity

Teaser -Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four

characters: mafia boss! Yuta Nakamoto x innocent! florist! reader

summary: While running away, you seemed to be moving closer to the man you were avoiding. Are you even heading to the right direction?

chapter word count: 2.5 k words

chapter genre: suggestive, a little fluff, a little angst

chapter warning: descriptive dirty thoughts (MC is down bad), alcohol, nightclub, a little jealousy? (but you didn't hear it from me)

a/n: Posting early because of the Yuta cover from Cut Magazine. I don't know where this is going but I hope you'll like this chapter.

There are a lot of triggers that don't sit well with minors so please keep in mind that some scenes are disturbing and purely fictional. Inspired by Koi to Dangan.

taglist: @sourirensoleille @kyuprincess @nuoyipeach @anonjyxd @a-bts-world @a-place-filled-with-random @smolbeanieee @yumilovesavocado @imnotsureokay @dhaly-g @spicyryujin @doodoodove @blueeyedlove-blog1 @kosmoreads @joepomonerof @calipsou @yutadae @juungvely @hangyeomcult @cherrphoenix @itsyntt

“Y/N,”

He whispered against your ear causing the hairs behind your neck to rise up in goosebumps. His lips hovering above you, his breathing hot and rugged. “Y/N…” You didn’t know your name could sound that erotic.

His scent engulfs your senses: the mixture of musky cologne, sweat, and the pungent smell of blood. The feel of his tongue on the side of your neck ignited a fire inside of you. His fingertips against your skin feel so hot that it burns where he touches you.

“Y/N, I want you.” 

You opened your eyes followed by a loud gasp as if your breathing was knocked out of you. You feel feverishly hot, sweat soaking your body. What was that about? You breathed heavily at the vivid image of the mafia boss from your dreams. His black hair, his piercing eyes, his red lips, his tongue. Wait, hold up. Do not think of that last thing, Y/N. 

But it feels so real. 

You glanced at the spot on the back of your hand, the spot where he licked the salt from before, and felt it pulsating. Why does your skin still remember how soft his tongue is? 

And when you close your eyes, you can see his smile and hear his laugh. The ringing of his voice calling your name kept repeating in your ear as if it were an illusion.  

This is so crazy. He’s making you crazy. 

This is bad.  So bad.

“You look bad,” You stared at Sophie in surprise. Is it that obvious that you had a sleepless night because of Yuta? You sighed, maybe it is. “Are you not comfortable with working in the club?”  

Frantically, you shook your head. It was the opposite, rather. You were never that close with a lot of girls before. The waitresses were so kind to you, always complimenting and saying that you’re doing a great job. The hostesses were also friendly to you, except for Lexi who seemed to hate you so much. But then, like what Aeri claims, she does hate everyone. “I’m just too occupied lately.“

“Is it a guy?” Yes. “A customer in the club?” Yes. And he’s a mafia boss. “Don’t tell me it’s your dad again.” 

You smiled then nodded. Another white lie. Ever since you met Yuta, you have been lying a lot.

And you were reminded of him once again. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you shook your head, trying to focus and desperately staying away from the thought of him. 

You might have the power of attraction. First, when you considered selling yourself, you were almost kidnapped and sold. Second, when you needed a high-paying job, you found Sophie’s friend which is Aeri. 

Then, there’s Yuta Nakamoto. 

You were so guilty of the dirty intrusive thoughts forming in your mind that you cannot look him in the eye. Why is he even here today? Normally Mark will accompany the young girl or the kind middle-aged lady who you saw with her back in the mansion. Why is the mafia boss with her today? 

Sophie was the one entertaining them and you were just standing by the counter, trying your very best to not look at him. 

But how can you do that when he’s wearing an all-black ensemble with his leather jacket and a tight-fit shirt that highlights his chest? How can he look so good in those clothes?  

He’s just a typical customer, Y/N. He’s not the guy you were dreaming about. 

But you’re having a hard time convincing yourself when he turned to you holding jasmines and lavenders. It’s not the clothes, you thought. He does look good. Too good. 

Focus, Y/N. 

Your eyes wandered to the little girl looking at you with a beaming smile on her face. If only you can speak to her. Immediately, you took a piece of paper and wrote ‘Hi, do you want to pack the flowers with me?’ and then showed it to her. You noticed that during the first three times she entered the shop, she watched you carefully pack the flowers she ordered. The next time, with the help of Mark, she was resting her elbows on the counter where you were working. 

The young girl looked at the man she was with then smiled when he nodded at her. Excitedly, she ran to your side and you prepared a small chair for her to stand on. You didn’t actually know her name but it would be weird to ask for it. All of them, Mark and the older woman who sometimes come with her, just refer to her as ‘young lady’. So maybe you’ll just settle on that. Besides, you’re not in the position to ask about it anyways. 

You gestured at the wrapping papers, wanting to ask for her choice of color but she only gave you a confused look. It would be nice if you speak the same language. Quickly, you scribbled on the paper asking her what color she wanted for the paper and the ribbon. She chose a light pink wrapping paper and white ribbon which perfectly compliments the combination of violet and white flowers they chose. A smile escaped your lips as you watched her little fingers put the ribbon around the bouquet. These are very fragrant flowers and the color fits so well with her white dress. 

“You look so pretty.” You pat the top of her head gently, smiling at her. A wide smile can be seen on her lips and you were reminded of how much she looked like Yuta when smiling. You blinked in realization. They always address her as ‘young lady’ and she looked like Yuta. She must be Yuta’s child. Then that means he is married. Why are you thinking erotically of a married man? 

Your eyes diverted to Yuta’s fingers. If he truly is married, there should be a ring on his finger. But there were multiple rings on his finger that made you gulp. How would those cold metal feel against your skin as he touches you? 

“Y/N.” Sophie called that snapped you back to your senses. Your eyes went to Yuta’s who was looking at his fingers and then at you while cocking his head to the side, an eyebrow raised as if asking you a question. He caught you staring at him. This is bad. “Are you still sleepy?” 

You shook your head then started the cash register, telling Yuta the price of the flowers. He handed you a black card and you marveled at the veins along the back of his hand and his dark leather watch. The visual looks so good that you can just imagine him touching you roughly. You want that leather watch on his wrist as he touches the sensitive parts of your body.  “Are you working tonight?” Once again, your senses came back. You should really stop daydreaming like this. You only nodded, not fully understanding his question, before returning his card. “I’ll see you tonight.” 

The young girl waved her hands excitedly as the two left the shop and you were just as dumbfounded as earlier. “What was that?” Sophie asked as you let out a heavy sigh. What is wrong with you? It’s affecting your job. You wouldn’t be surprised that Sophie will be mad that you messed up this customer’s order. “You and Mr. Nakamoto…” Wait, she knows him? “Are you together?” 

What? “No.” 

“Then what was that? 'I’ll see you tonight'? Do you know each other?” 

Maybe this is your chance to come clean to your friend. A chance to lessen the white lies you have been saying to others. So you shared how your father owed money to him and that it was the reason why you asked to work in the club. You even shared that he’s a VVIP in the club and that he saw you there once. Although you missed a few details, it felt good that you somewhat told someone about this. 

“Then why is he looking at you like that?” 

“Like what?” 

“He looks at you like he wants you.” 

You shrugged. “He wants to kill me, that’s why.” 

Sophie chuckled. “No, Y/N.” She started with a haughty smile. “From the way he looks at you, I think he wants you. Period.”

No. You shook your head. That is impossible. 

Yuta is a married man. Yuta has a child. He frequents the club which even earned him the VVIP status. He’s a player. And most of all, Yuta is a mafia boss. 

Why would someone like him want someone like you? 

You laughed at the idea. That was so stupid. The funniest thing you heard in your life. 

Then why are you so disappointed that the VIP room where you’re assigned is for a different customer? He isn’t that bad. A businessman who often travels abroad and is just looking for someone to brag about his journeys to. His story of how pristine the waters are in the Maldives and how majestic the mountains of the Alps make you want to travel the world as well. But for now, you’ll settle on just listening to stories of actual people who can afford to go to those places. 

You desperately try to listen to his stories and laugh at his jokes. But all that was running through your mind is the term 'I’ll see you tonight'. Why would he say that if he wouldn’t come tonight? Is he here already? Maybe in the special VIP room? And with his favorite hostess, Lexi. 

Should you consider being a hostess and charm Yuta? 

The assigned hostess came to your customer and he thanked you for keeping him company, giving you some cash while tapping your shoulder. To your surprise, Mama greeted you outside the hallway. “Mr. Nakamoto is requesting for you.” You bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling too wide. “And he requested the special room with the comfiest bed as well.” What? The statement made you blink in surprise. Why would he do that? 

Mama was just smiling as she walked you to the VIP room. She gently knocked on the door and came Yuta’s voice telling her to come in. “Good luck, Y/N. You’ll need it.” 

Your palms felt sweaty as you greeted the mafia boss who was seated on the couch. His leather jacket from early the day was discarded on the handrest beside him and you gaped at the black muscle tee he is wearing. “Please sit down.” He gestured for the space beside him. “Busy night?” 

You shook your head. It’s still kind of early so the customers aren’t coming in yet. “Mama said it’s the comfiest bed. Take a rest if you need to.” Take a rest? Why? “Earlier, your boss said that you’re sleepy. You should sleep now.” 

Wait, that’s why he asked for the comfiest bed? Of course, Y/N, what were you thinking? Are you expecting for something more? “I’m fine. I’m still clocked in for work so I can’t…” 

“If you’re worried about Mama, I can assure you that she won't get mad at you.” He claimed then drank some of the liquid in his glass. From the looks of it, he settled on Brandy tonight. “Besides, it’s me who requested that you rest.” 

But you didn't need to. You didn’t want to. You wanted to spend some more time with him. “I’m fine, really.” 

He leaned on the couch, giving you a side glance. “Suit yourself.” He finished the remaining of his drink and you were quick to refill it with the liquid he was drinking. “How was the job here? Is it tiring?” You wondered why he’s curious about that. And what exactly are you going to say to him? That you are getting paid to listen to those men who wanted to brag about themselves? 

You only shook your head then smiled. “It is a nice experience,” you mumbled, “I’ve always thought of hostesses and what they do in a negative light but I realize how important they are. They’re like therapists.” You grinned then remembered what Aeri told you, “Half-naked therapists.” A chuckle can be heard beside you, the side of Yuta’s lips curled up. “They’re really cool in that aspect.” 

“So you wanted to be one?” 

You shook your head, laughing. “I’m not fit to be a hostess. Have you seen how pretty they are? Lexi even looks like a Greecian Goddess…”   

Yuta snorted which made you look at him. What was that reaction? “Every girl is pretty in their own way, Y/N.” You noticed how he reached for the glass using his right hand then hissed before quickly changing it to his left hand. “Every girl is pretty half-naked.” 

But you didn’t even hear that statement and reached out for his right hand. Earlier, he was wearing the leather watch on that wrist but now it's gone. “What happened to your wrist?” It looks so swollen that it's almost purple in color. You took a block of ice from the bucket before placing it on his right wrist. It looks so painful. 

“A wrong punch to someone’s face.” You hissed. That must really hurt a lot. “It’s nothing, Y/N.” 

“Did you at least let Jaehyun see this? You should ask him to check…”  

“Do you like Jaehyun?” 

You looked up in surprise but were startled that you were almost near his face. His eyes were sparkling. It must be the lights. His eyes are normally piercing, deadly. But why does it look so soft as he looks at you? 

You lightly coughed, feeling the cold ice melting on your fingertips. “Jaehyun?” You laughed then shook your head, removing the melted ice and replacing it with another block of ice. “He knows the right words to say, I’m convinced he’s a playboy.” Yuta drank the brandy in his glass in one shot, not reacting to what you said. “And my dad would kill me if I ever get associated with the mafia.” You stopped, realizing what you just said. That is so offensive that you quickly regret spewing those words. 

“Of course,” Yuta claimed in a soft voice, “Fathers don’t want their daughters to be associated with the mafia.”  

Your mind was swirling. Yuta is married. Yuta is a dad. Yuta is a mafia boss. His daughter is associated with the mafia. 

You just stepped way beyond the line. “Could you check if Lexi is done with her VIP?” You just angered the mafia boss. You only nodded, stood up then bowed at him. 

Why are you so stupid, Y/N?  

The Greecian Goddess came in her tight-fitting black mini dress and red stilettos. Lexi really looked so pretty. She fits so well with Yuta. “You’re becoming Mr. Nakamoto’s favorite,” she claimed. You just stared at her. What should you even tell her? “But I should warn you that Yuta is always like that to newbies.” Of course. It’s not like you’re expecting for more. 

Right? 

“Besides, he had never moved on from his first love.” 

The door opened and you got a glimpse of the piercing look from Yuta. 

Yuta is married. Yuta is a dad. Yuta might be cheating on his wife with Lexi. Yuta is a playboy. Yuta is a dangerous man. There are a lot of red flags that you can associate with the man. 

But the reddest of all red flags is him being the mafia leader. 

Chapter Five

[bitter69uk]

Venus in Furs: Maila Nurmi (aka horror movie hostess Vampira) photographed at the Seventh Primetime Emmy Awards on 7 March 1955 at the Moulin Rouge nightclub in Los Angeles. Shame this pic isn’t in colour - as her biographer (and niece) Sandra Niemi recalls in the 2020 biography Glamour Ghoul: The Passions and Pain of the Real Vampira, Maila Nurmi, "She wore an ice-blue evening gown, her hair dyed to match, and a rented fur stole draped around her shoulders."