#Private Party (Club Mix)

[ghanaplug]

Frizzo and Aleo Collaborate on "Private Party (Club Mix)"

Renowned artist Frizzo has recently released a vibrant Dancehall song titled “Private Party (Club Mix)” featuring the talented Aleo. This track combines the infectious rhythms of Dancehall with elements of Afrobeats and Dembow, creating a unique and captivating musical experience. Aleo, also known as Nikola Jojevic, has collaborated with numerous artists on both national and international levels.…

[shomatoriashi]

10/15/24; 07:00pm

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ quickies with them ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

sylus had invited you to attend a special gathering in the heart of the n109 zone, with luke and kieran setting up a party at one of the largest clubs that he owned for his birthday.

wishing to celebrate his birthday as well, you told him you would meet him at the club soon before getting ready for the event back in the comfort of your apartment. despite how empty sylus felt without you next to him, he decided to remain polite and cordial while speaking to his guests all while scanning the area for any signs of you.

the clock had finally struck close to 9pm the moment he catches sight of your hair in the distance. while he adjusts his tie, sylus takes quick strides toward your awaiting form-

only to feel his mouth turn dry at the sight of you. as if sensing the way his presence looms over you, you turn to face him, giving sylus a full body view of the dress you were wearing.

but perhaps calling your outfit a dress was a bit too generous, for it appeared more like a giant silk ribbon wrapped around your body, simply covering the most private parts of your figure while still leaving little to the imagination. your innocent smile was filled with a mischievous playfulness, and he knew damn well that your clueless expression was a mere façade.

“happy birthday, sy!”

his eyes flash with annoyance mixed with desire, holding your scantily clad form even closer to his body. with you pressed against his side, sylus struggled to stop his cock from hardening further at the mere sight of you, already causing a notable tent to be seen within the front of his dress pants.

“your dress is too short, just what were you thinking?”

your expression becomes flustered then, your features losing its playfulness as you look down at the ground before admitting to him, “y-you said you’ve always wanted to see me… s-show off my body a bit more and be more confident. a-and i wore this for you alone, so-“

yet all your honesty does was serve to make sylus’s cock grow even harder for you. no longer able to think straight when he holds you tightly against him, sylus basically carries you away from the crowd before going off into one of the private rooms settled all across his club.

the pounding music and loud conversation was enough to mask your moans, with sylus pressing his body against your back while playing with the edges of your panties. taking advantage of the privacy the room provided, sylus grips at your chest before pulling the silk fabric of it down, freeing your breasts as his large hands harshly pull and prod at them.

“luke and kieran will search for me soon to cut that damn cake. keep quiet or else they’ll hear you.” sylus whispers in your ear before biting down on it, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants before swiftly entering you from behind. he groans at the feeling of your walls seeming to grip at his cock even tighter, making the onychinus leader chuckle in response.

“what’s this? does the thought of us getting caught… excite you?”

cue you letting out another breathy moan as your walls were felt clenching around him once more, making sylus’s thrusts become even more rapid in response.

“such a naughty kitten.”

needless to say, even when luke and kieran were ready to cut the cake for their boss, sylus was unable to stop wetting his cock with your cunt, choosing instead to block the door as he fucked you with a desperation.

when zayne invited you, his girlfriend of two years, to a conference as his plus one-

you didn’t expect such an event to be so boring.

sure, the dinner served was nothing short of delicious, with you basking in all the rich and savory flavors, yet when it was time for all the doctors and surgeons to talk about their upcoming projects to help with making healthcare more efficient for their patients-

admittedly, you found yourself dozing off a bit. although you appreciated everyone’s efforts to make their patient’s healthcare better, you weren’t truly paying attention enough to know the full extent of what was going on.

with a huff, you choose instead to focus all of your attention on zayne, admiring how cute he looked as his eyes remained on the screen. while the presenter droned on and on with his presentation, you could feel your boredom mounting by the second.

as you trail your eyes down zayne’s pristine suit, you allow your gaze to land on the front of zayne’s dress pants, a cheshire cat grin spreading across your features when you lean in to whisper in his ear, “zayne, i’m getting bored.”

zayne meets your gaze and gives you a gentle smile, “just a few more hours, okay?”

however, you end up shaking your head, purposely ignoring his reassurance when you trail your hands toward the front of his pants. “no… if i don’t do something soon, this boredom is going to kill me.”

were you being overdramatic? yes.

but did you want to entertain yourself by giving zayne a quick handjob beneath the table? absolutely yes.

zayne lets out a shaky sigh of your name, attempting to remove your hand, but his weakness when it comes to you ultimately takes over the more rational part of his mind. he allows you to unbuckle his belt, pulling down his pants slightly with just enough pressure to reveal his soft cock. you giggle a bit, pulling it out before gently stroking him. you set a steady pace, feeling delighted when his cock hardens within your grip in mere seconds.

playing with his mushroom tip, you spread the beads of precum across his cock, using it to lubricate his shaft while watching zayne. his pants and the way he had to hold back his moans were enough to make you ache for him, allowing the sight of him so close to falling apart for you to push you even further.

you truly wondered just how far you could go.

yet before you could even continue your strokes, zayne harshly removed your hand from his erection. your eyes go wide, wondering if you had made him upset when he pushes his erection back into the confines of his pants with a hiss.

an apology was on the tip of your tongue, but zayne interrupts you by grabbing a hold of your hand, pulling you out of your seat while walking out of the auditorium with you. his breathing was labored when he rushes into the halls, finding a secluded area near the restrooms before slamming you against one of the walls.

he says nothing, the once brilliant quality of his eyes eclipsed by pure darkness as he ran on pure desire for you alone. lifting you up by your waist, he impatiently takes off your panties, allowing them to hang at your ankles before quickly shoving down his pants.

you only caught a brief sight of his erection before zayne impales you with his cock, making you cry out to him. feeling him deeply buried inside of you immediately assuages the painful ache between your legs, with your lover setting a breakneck pace as he pumped his cock in and out of you.

and while you basked in the hedonistic nature of his lovemaking, you were happy to say that you were no longer bored.

when xavier had finally returned home to you after a long mission that lasted 3 weeks, he didn’t wish to leave your side.

so when you told him one of your best friends had invited you over to celebrate her birthday the day after his return, xavier ignores your advice for him to stay home and rest, already deciding to join you as well. he willingly ignores the exhaustion he feels and attends the party with you, still unable to leave your side due to how much he had missed you during his time spent away from you.

he barely pays attention when you were both invited inside your friend’s home, the scent of cupcakes and grilled food permeating at the air as you both mingled with the other partygoers. you set your gift off to the side while making small talk with the others. while you enjoyed yourself, xavier remained glued to your side, seeming to take you in with a newfound appreciation.

from the sweet quality of your voice-

to the way your hair bounced with each step that you take-

xavier found himself yearning for a part of you that he was unable to indulge in the entire three weeks he was gone, leaving him utterly weak for you.

once you were done catching up with your friends. xavier takes a hold of your hand before leading you away from everyone else. he ignores the plethora of questions that comes from your parted lips all while leading you to the bathroom, slamming it shut before locking it. his strange behavior makes you look up at him with concern, with you framing at his face when you ask him what was wrong once more.

xavier shakes his head, basking in your gentle touch by leaning into the palm of your hand. he greedily breathes in your scent before meeting your gaze once more, the once sapphire quality of his eyes now hidden by complete darkness. his gaze serves as the sole evidence of his desire for you.

“i haven’t seen you in three weeks… and…” he takes a hold of your hand while leading it downwards, towards the growing erection felt against the front of his pants. “i need you.”

your expression becomes flustered for a brief moment, with you letting out a few stuttered phrases here and there. however, you take a minute to collect your thoughts, closing your eyes before reopening them. there was a certain determination seen in your gaze when you say his name in a breathy sigh before finally deciding to jump up into xavier’s arms. when he feels your body in his arms, xavier took that as all the confirmation he needed before leading you toward the sink’s counter.

knowing that you couldn’t hide from your best friend for long, you lift up your shirt and quickly unhook your bra, tossing it aside as you allowed your breasts to hang freely, basking in xavier’s hungry gaze. letting out a grunt of your name, xavier frees his erection from the confines of his jeans, swiftly pushing down your own pants and panties, leaving him enough room to thrust into your entrance with a startling accuracy.

xavier couldn’t stop himself from tossing his head back, for the sensation of his cock wrapped so tightly around your slick heat was nothing short of a homecoming to him. desperate to finally bask in you, xavier proceeds to thrust his cock in and out of your core at a faster pace all while leaning down to capture your hardened nipple within his hot mouth.

as the party went on, had your friends had a more keen ear, they would have heard your moans echoing along with xavier’s grunts behind the bathroom door…

when rafayel invites you to the grand opening of a new museum with him, you figured it would be a normal date filled with his cute laughters and awe filled gaze at each piece of artwork.

and admittedly, the first thirty minutes of your museum date was exactly like that. you listen to rafayel’s voice, becoming filled with passion when he speaks to you about each piece. from the colors used to the artist that made such amazing work, you hung on to rafayel’s every word.

as you both explore the other corners of the museum, you were simply basking in rafayel and his excitement for art, remaining by his side when he suddenly stops walking, eyes glued to a closed off section of the area.

you look back at him and ask why he stopped walking, with your boyfriend simply pointing towards the closed off room. you follow where he was pointing and felt your heart begin to race in anticipation at the title of the closed off exhibit-

experience the many forms of passionate love

rafayel takes a hold of your hand, pressing a kiss against the back of it before walking towards the exhibit. with a hand wrapped around the doorknob, he twists it open-

yet nothing could prepare you for what was coming.

surrounding you were indeed art pieces dedicated to passionate love-

but what you weren’t expecting was to see various positions set on display.

from a marble sculpture of a man holding his lover from behind as his cock was seen piercing through the woman’s entrance, like a beautiful flower-

to paintings that depicted various other styles of lovemaking hanging on the walls-

you felt your body heat up while trying to take it all in.

“well, i guess we finally know the reason why this museum was advertised as for adults only.”

you could only manage to let out a weak hum in response, your eyes unable to tear away from the marble sculpture settled at the forefront of the exhibit. you kept looking at it, the lovers position seeming to make you remember a time where rafayel had made love to you in a very similar manner.

as if reading your mind, rafayel steps closer to you, hands already gripping yours in a tight manner when he presses his chest against your backside. when you feel him rub something hard behind you, you felt your mouth turn dry as you look back at him.

“are you thinking what i’m thinking?”

that was when the panic began to set in, “rafe, we can’t!”

“too late.” rafayel tells you in a sultry tone, already leading you to where the bathrooms were as he chose a random stall to walk into. locking the stall, he presses your body against the wall, lifting up your pliant form as he slides off your skirt and panties. you gasp and felt the heat dye against your cheeks, watching as he pockets the flimsy material of your panties before unbuckling his belt.

he pulls down his pants and frees his cock enough for you to see every inch of him, with him gripping at your waist with a hum before rubbing the underside of his cock against your pussy lips. thoughts of hiding your arousal was tossed out the window the moment you felt his velvet cock slide back and forth against your slick heat, and only when rafayel could feel your arousal practically dripping down on him did he finally enter you, piercing your aching walls with his cock as he filled you up.

rafayel’s moans breaks through the silence of the restroom, the sounds of your lovemaking echoing throughout the area as you had to cover rafayel’s lips to prevent anyone from realizing your sinful acts. yet it seemed as though the image of that statue was enough to make you lose your inhibitions, with you wanting nothing more than for rafayel to make love to you, never wishing for him to stop-

just as the exhibit had so proudly displayed.

end notes: this is an unedited mess of a thirst post, but i hope you readers don’t mind since this is just my attempt at writing out my fantasies 🫠

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

hey ley… 35 year old university professor (mommy) wanda goes to a strip club for her friends hen do and sees reader, her 21 year old student working there. wandas friends watch wanda watching reader dance for hours and decide to pay for her lap dance. how does this end up?

sorry if this isn’t explained right english isn’t my native language

Strip That Down

Professor!Wanda Maximoff x Student!Stripper!fem!reader

Word Count: 5.6K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Lap dance, strip club, fluff, angst, happy ending

A/N: This took on a life of it's own

Wanda Maximoff, a university professor, found herself reluctantly at a strip club, all thanks to her friend's insistence on celebrating her bachelorette party in the most unconventional way possible. The loud music, flashing lights, and the wild atmosphere were far from her usual quiet and academic environment.

Her friends were having a blast, cheering and laughing, while Wanda sipped her drink, trying to blend into the background. That was until her eyes caught sight of one of the dancers stepping onto the stage. The dancer moved with a grace and confidence that captivated the audience, but what really caught Wanda’s attention was the familiar face.

It was you, her student. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. You were mesmerizing, your movements fluid and enchanting. Wanda watched in awe, her mind racing with a mix of surprise, curiosity, and something else she couldn’t quite place.

Hours passed, but it felt like minutes. Wanda's friends, noticing her unwavering focus on you, began to whisper among themselves. They exchanged knowing glances and mischievous smiles.

"Hey, Wanda," one of them nudged her playfully, "You seem really interested in that dancer. Why don't we make this night even more unforgettable?"

Before Wanda could protest, they pooled their money and called over one of the staff members. Moments later, you were stepping off the stage and being guided toward a private room, where Wanda was already seated, her heart pounding in her chest.

You entered the room, your eyes widening slightly in recognition. “Professor Maximoff?” you asked, clearly surprised but maintaining your professional composure.

“Please, call me Wanda,” she replied, her voice a bit shaky.

You nodded, stepping closer, your movements still graceful and hypnotic. “Alright, Wanda. Let’s make this an experience you’ll never forget.”

As the music started, you began your dance, your eyes locked onto hers. The air was thick with tension, the boundaries of your usual professor-student relationship blurring with each passing second. Wanda’s friends watched from a distance, giggling and whispering, knowing they had given her a night she would remember for a long time.

As the music ended and the dance came to a close, you lingered for a moment, meeting Wanda's gaze with an intensity that left her breathless. The atmosphere in the private room was charged with an undeniable tension, and Wanda found herself at a loss for words.

"Thank you," she finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "That was...incredible."

You smiled, a hint of shyness now breaking through your confident demeanor. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Wanda."

There was an awkward pause, both of you unsure of how to proceed. The professional lines had been blurred, and it was difficult to revert back to your usual roles.

"Do you want to talk for a bit?" you offered, sensing her discomfort but also wanting to prolong this unexpected encounter.

Wanda nodded, grateful for the suggestion. "Yes, that would be nice."

You sat down next to her, the ambiance still buzzing with the aftermath of the dance. Wanda's friends had moved on to other entertainment, giving you both some privacy.

"I had no idea you worked here," Wanda began, trying to navigate the delicate conversation. "I mean, it's not something you'd normally share in class, but..."

You chuckled softly. "Yeah, it's definitely a part of my life I keep separate from my studies. It helps pay for school and other expenses."

Wanda nodded, appreciating your honesty. "I understand. It's just...I never expected to see you here."

"Likewise," you replied, your eyes meeting hers again. "But I have to admit, it's nice to see a familiar face, even in such an unexpected place."

The two of you talked for a while longer, the conversation flowing more easily as you shared stories and learned more about each other outside the confines of the classroom. Wanda was surprised at how comfortable she felt, the initial shock giving way to a genuine connection.

Eventually, you both realized it was getting late. Wanda's friends were starting to gather, signaling that it was time to head home.

"It was really nice talking to you, Wanda," you said, standing up and offering her a warm smile.

"Likewise," she replied, feeling a strange mix of emotions. "I hope to see you in class on Monday."

You nodded. "Definitely. And if you ever want to talk again, you know where to find me."

With that, Wanda rejoined her friends, who were eager to hear about her experience. As they left the club, Wanda couldn't help but reflect on the night's events, her thoughts lingering on you and the unexpected connection you had formed. She knew things might be different in class now, but she also felt a sense of excitement at the prospect of seeing you again, both as her student and as someone who had made a lasting impression on her.

============

The week went by in a blur for Wanda. Lectures, meetings, and grading papers filled her days, but there was a constant undercurrent of distraction whenever she thought of you. In class, the air was thick with an unspoken tension. Every time your eyes met hers, a blush crept up Wanda's face, and she found it hard to concentrate on her usual authoritative demeanor.

By the time Friday arrived, Wanda's curiosity and the inexplicable pull she felt toward you had grown too strong to ignore. That evening, she found herself back at the strip club, her heart pounding with anticipation. She paid for a private dance again, but this time, her intentions were different.

As you stepped into the room and saw her, a warm smile spread across your face. "You want another dance, Professor?" you asked, your tone playful.

Wanda hesitated, then shook her head. "No...well, yes, but not right now. I just wanted to talk for a bit, if that's okay?"

You sat down next to her on the couch, giving her your full attention. "Of course, Wanda. We can talk about anything you want."

The conversation started off tentatively, but as the minutes passed, Wanda found herself opening up more. She talked about her week, the pressures of academia, and even some personal anecdotes she wouldn't normally share with a student. You listened intently, your presence calming and reassuring.

As the night wore on, Wanda felt a sense of contentment she hadn't experienced in a long time. Before she left, you reached into your bra, pulling out a sharpie. You always kept one on you. You took her arm, holding it against your chest as you wrote down your number on her hand.

"I don't want you to have to pay if you just want to talk, Professor. You can call me up and maybe we can talk over coffee and when I'm in normal clothes, okay?" you said, you looked up at her.

Wanda stared at her hand, her heart racing. "Y-yeah, we can do that...um, I know you're working late tonight, so maybe tomorrow afternoon?"

You smiled, nodding. "Tomorrow afternoon sounds perfect. I'll look forward to it."

Wanda left the club that night with a flutter in her chest, clutching the piece of paper with your number like a lifeline. The boundaries she was crossing were clear, but the need to know more about you and the connection she felt was undeniable.

=================

Wanda arrived at the café a bit early, her nerves on edge. She chose a cozy corner table, away from the hustle and bustle, and ordered a cappuccino, hoping the warm drink would calm her jitters. The café had a quaint charm, with its mismatched furniture, local artwork on the walls, and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. She glanced at the door every few minutes, her anticipation growing with each passing second.

Finally, you walked in, immediately spotting her in the corner. You looked different from the night before, dressed casually in jeans and a soft, navy-blue sweater, your hair down and free. Wanda felt a wave of relief and excitement wash over her as you approached.

"Hey, Wanda," you greeted her with a warm smile.

"Hi," she replied, feeling her cheeks flush slightly. "Please, have a seat."

You sat down across from her, and for a moment, there was a comfortable silence as you both took in the shift from your last meeting's setting.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Wanda asked, trying to ease the initial awkwardness.

"Sure, I'll have a latte," you replied, and she flagged down a barista to place the order.

"So," you started, leaning forward slightly, "how was the rest of your night after the club?"

Wanda chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It was uneventful compared to the start. I went home, did some reading, and tried to process everything."

"Understandable," you said with a nod. "I can imagine it was a lot to take in."

The barista brought over your latte, and you both took a moment to sip your drinks, the initial awkwardness beginning to fade.

"What about you?" Wanda asked, genuinely curious. "How was the rest of your night?"

"Pretty typical," you said with a shrug. "Worked until closing, then headed home. Nothing as interesting as our encounter, though."

Wanda smiled, feeling more at ease. "It's still a bit surreal, seeing you here, outside of the club and the classroom."

"Yeah, it is," you agreed, your eyes meeting hers. "But I like it. It's nice to talk to you in a different setting."

The conversation began to flow more naturally. You talked about your studies, your interests, and the challenges of balancing work and school. Wanda found herself opening up more about her life as well, sharing stories from her university days and her experiences as a professor.

"So, what made you decide to become a professor?" you asked, genuinely interested.

Wanda smiled thoughtfully. "I've always loved literature and teaching. There's something incredibly rewarding about helping students discover their own passion for it. Plus, it keeps me constantly learning and growing."

"That's really inspiring," you said, your admiration evident. "I can see why you're such a great professor."

Wanda blushed at the compliment, feeling a warmth spread through her. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."

The conversation took on a lighter tone as you both shared more personal anecdotes. Wanda found herself laughing more than she had in a long time, the tension and formality melting away.

"Do you have any hobbies outside of work and school?" Wanda asked, genuinely curious about your life beyond what she already knew.

"Well, I love dancing, obviously," you said with a grin. "But I also enjoy painting. It's a great way to relax and express myself."

"Really? I'd love to see some of your work sometime," Wanda said, intrigued.

"I'd like that," you replied, your smile widening. "What about you? Any hobbies?"

"I enjoy reading, of course, and gardening. There's something very therapeutic about taking care of plants," Wanda shared.

"I can see that," you said thoughtfully. "It sounds peaceful."

The afternoon flew by as you continued to talk, the initial nervousness long gone. There was a genuine connection between you, a chemistry that neither of you could deny.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow through the café windows, you realized how late it had gotten.

"I should probably get going," you said reluctantly. "I have a shift tonight."

Wanda nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment. "Of course. Thank you for meeting me. This was... really nice."

"It was," you agreed, standing up and gathering your things. "Let's do it again sometime."

"Absolutely," Wanda said, standing up as well. "I'll call you soon."

You exchanged one last smile before parting ways, both of you feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation for what lay ahead. The boundaries had been crossed, but what you had found was something real and promising, a connection that neither of you could ignore.

==========================

The weeks following your coffee shop date with Wanda were filled with subtle yet palpable tension. Each class was an exercise in restraint as you both tried to maintain a professional demeanor. Yet, every glance, every accidental touch, and every shared smile hinted at the underlying attraction that was growing stronger by the day.

One late afternoon, after most of the students had left, you found yourself lingering in the classroom, gathering your things. You needed to ask Wanda about an upcoming assignment, but the real reason you stayed behind was the undeniable urge to be close to her, even if just for a moment.

Wanda was at her desk, engrossed in grading papers. Her glasses perched on her nose, and a strand of hair fell across her face, which she absentmindedly pushed back. You approached her desk, your heart pounding.

"Professor Maximoff, could I ask you something about the assignment?" you asked, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

Wanda looked up, a warm smile spreading across her face when she saw you. "Of course, what do you need help with?"

You leaned over her desk, pointing to your notes, but as you explained your question, Wanda's focus began to drift. Her eyes traced the curve of your jaw, the way your hair framed your face, and the subtle scent of your perfume. She found herself entranced, her mind clouded with thoughts she struggled to keep at bay.

You noticed her distraction and paused, your eyes meeting hers. "Professor?"

Wanda blinked, snapping back to reality. "Sorry, I... I got distracted."

Before you could respond, she reached out and took your hand, her grip firm but gentle. The electricity between you was undeniable, and as if drawn by an invisible force, Wanda leaned forward, closing the distance between you.

In a heartbeat, her lips were on yours, soft and insistent. The kiss was filled with a mixture of longing and relief, as if you both had been holding back for far too long. You responded eagerly, your free hand cupping her cheek as the kiss deepened.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. Wanda's eyes were filled with a mix of fear and desire. "I know I'm your professor, but I can't stop thinking about you," she confessed, her voice trembling.

You searched her eyes, finding the same vulnerability mirrored in your own. "I can't either," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wanda took a deep breath, her hand still holding yours. "This is complicated. We both know that. But... I don't want to fight it anymore."

You nodded, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "Neither do I."

The air between you was thick with unspoken promises and a shared understanding of the risks involved. But in that moment, none of it seemed to matter. What mattered was the connection you had, the feelings you shared, and the undeniable chemistry that had brought you to this point.

======================

A few weeks had passed since that night at Wanda's apartment. The warmth and comfort of those moments now seemed like a distant memory. The reality of your relationship's complications began to weigh heavily on both of you, and the excitement of secrecy was gradually replaced by the fear of discovery.

It all came to a head one Thursday afternoon. You had stayed after class to ask Wanda about an upcoming project, but the atmosphere was different. There was a tension in the air, an unspoken strain that neither of you could ignore.

Wanda looked up from her desk as you approached, her eyes tired and filled with something you couldn't quite place. "What do you need help with?" she asked, her voice lacking its usual warmth.

You hesitated, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. "I wanted to discuss the project, but... is everything okay, Wanda?"

She sighed, removing her glasses and rubbing her temples. "Honestly? No, it's not. This... whatever this is between us, it's becoming too much. The hiding, the secrecy... I can't keep doing this."

Your heart sank. You had known this conversation was coming, but it didn't make it any easier. "I know it's hard, but we can figure it out. We just need to be careful."

"It's not just about being careful," Wanda said, her frustration evident. "I'm your professor. There's a power imbalance here, and if anyone finds out, it could ruin both our careers. I can't risk that. And I can't ask you to risk that either."

"But I don't care about the risks," you insisted, your voice breaking. "I care about you."

Wanda stood up, her expression conflicted. "I care about you too. More than I should. But that's exactly why we have to stop this. It's not fair to either of us."

You felt tears welling up in your eyes. "So, what are you saying? Are you ending this?"

"I don't want to," Wanda said, her voice softening. "But I think we have to. At least until the semester is over. Then maybe we can figure out where to go from there."

The room was silent except for the ticking of the clock. You could see the pain in Wanda's eyes, mirroring your own. "I understand," you said quietly, fighting back tears. "But it doesn't make it any less painful."

Wanda reached out, taking your hand in hers. "I'm sorry. This isn't what I wanted. But I think it's what's best for both of us right now."

You nodded, squeezing her hand one last time before letting go. "I should go," you said, your voice trembling. "I'll see you in class."

As you walked out of her office, the weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders. The once-bright future you had imagined with Wanda now seemed uncertain and distant. The days that followed were filled with a hollow ache, each class a reminder of what you had lost.

Wanda, too, felt the strain. Her lectures were more subdued, her smiles less frequent. The connection that had once brought you both so much joy now felt like a source of pain and regret.

Yet, amid the heartbreak, there was a glimmer of hope. The semester would eventually end, and with it, the constraints of your current roles. Until then, you both would have to navigate the difficult path ahead, holding onto the promise that perhaps, one day, things could be different.

====================

The days after Wanda broke things off were a blur of emptiness and despair. You found it increasingly difficult to muster the energy to attend classes, let alone participate. When you did manage to show up, your mind wandered, unable to focus on the lectures or assignments. Wanda's presence at the front of the classroom was a constant reminder of what you had lost, and it was unbearable.

Your grades began to slip, and the once-promising future you had envisioned seemed to crumble before your eyes. Your friends noticed the change in you, their concerned inquiries met with forced smiles and half-hearted reassurances. But the truth was, you were struggling to find a reason to keep going.

Your job at the club, once a place where you could escape and express yourself, became another source of frustration. Your boss, a stern but fair man named Tony, had been patient at first, giving you the benefit of the doubt. But as weeks passed and your performances grew lackluster, his patience wore thin.

One night, after another uninspired shift, Tony called you into his office. The room was dimly lit, the walls adorned with framed photos of past performances and performers. He sat behind his desk, his expression a mix of concern and frustration.

"Close the door," he said, his voice firm. You did as he asked, taking a seat across from him.

Tony leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "What's going on with you? You've been off your game for weeks now. Customers are noticing, and it's starting to affect business."

You looked down at your hands, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry, Tony. I've just been dealing with some personal stuff."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I get it. Everyone goes through tough times. But you need to snap out of it. You're a great dancer, and I've seen what you can do when you're at your best. But right now, you're not even close."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you blinked them away, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "I just... I don't see the point anymore."

Tony's expression softened, and he leaned back in his chair. "Life's going to throw a lot of crap your way, kid. But you can't let it break you. You have to find something to hold onto, something that makes it worth pushing through."

His words hit home, and you realized that you had been letting your grief consume you. You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "I'll try, Tony. I promise."

"That's all I'm asking," he said, offering a small, encouraging smile. "Take the weekend to clear your head. Come back Monday ready to give it your all."

You left his office feeling a mix of guilt and determination. The walk home was filled with a thousand thoughts racing through your mind, but one stood out above the rest: you needed to find a way to move forward.

Over the weekend, you forced yourself to confront your feelings head-on. You spent hours journaling, trying to make sense of the tangled emotions inside you. You reached out to friends, admitting that you were struggling and accepting their offers of support. Slowly, the fog of despair began to lift, and a sense of clarity emerged.

When Monday came, you walked into the club with a renewed sense of purpose. Tony gave you an approving nod as you prepared for your shift, and you felt a spark of hope ignite within you. The night went better than it had in weeks, and while it wasn't perfect, it was a step in the right direction.

In class, you made a conscious effort to engage, to focus on the material despite the pain of seeing Wanda. It wasn't easy, and there were moments when the hurt threatened to overwhelm you, but you pushed through, determined to reclaim some semblance of normalcy.

Wanda noticed the change in you, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and pride. She knew how difficult it was for you, and she respected the strength it took to keep going.

==========================

The semester was drawing to a close, but the weight of everything felt heavier than ever. You had done your best to keep pushing forward, but the cumulative stress and heartbreak had finally reached a breaking point. That night, after another rough shift at the club, you found yourself standing outside Wanda's apartment, drenched from the pouring rain. Without thinking, you pounded on her door, the desperate need for comfort overriding any lingering hesitation.

When Wanda opened the door, her eyes widened in shock at the sight of you. Your makeup was smeared from tears and rain, your hair plastered to your face, and your stage outfit clung to your soaked skin. Without a word, she pulled you inside, the warmth of her apartment a stark contrast to the cold outside.

"Come here," she said gently, guiding you towards the bathroom. Her voice was soft, filled with concern, as she grabbed a towel and began to dry you off. "Let's get you out of these clothes."

You didn't resist as she helped you out of your wet stage outfit, her touch tender and careful. Wanda filled the tub with hot water, and you sank into it, drawing your knees to your chest. The heat enveloped you, but it did little to ease the turmoil inside.

Wanda rolled up her sleeves and took a cloth, dipping it in the water before gently washing your back. "What happened, sweetie?" she asked softly, her voice filled with a mix of worry and tenderness.

Tears welled up again, and you struggled to find the words. "I just... I couldn't take it anymore. Everything feels so overwhelming. I feel like I'm drowning."

Wanda continued to wash your back, her movements slow and soothing. "It's okay," she murmured. "You're safe here. Take your time."

You took a shaky breath, the warmth of the bath and Wanda's presence slowly starting to calm you. "I miss you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've tried to move on, to focus on my classes and my job, but it's been so hard without you."

Wanda's hand paused for a moment before resuming its gentle strokes. "I miss you too," she confessed, her voice breaking slightly. "Every day has been a struggle, knowing that I hurt you and that we're both suffering because of this."

You turned your head to look at her, the vulnerability in her eyes mirroring your own. "I don't know what to do, Wanda. I feel so lost."

She put the cloth aside and leaned in, wrapping her arms around you from behind, her cheek resting against your wet hair. "We'll figure it out together," she said softly. "I don't have all the answers, but I know we can't keep going like this. Maybe we need to find a way to make this work, despite everything."

You closed your eyes, leaning into her embrace, the warmth of her body providing a comfort you had been desperately missing. "But how? The risks... they're still there."

"I know," Wanda replied, her voice steady but filled with emotion. "But maybe we can find a way to manage them. We don't have to have all the answers right now. We just need to take it one step at a time."

You nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope for the first time in weeks. "I want that. I want to be with you, no matter what it takes."

Wanda tightened her embrace, her lips brushing against your temple. "Then we'll find a way," she whispered. "We'll take it slow, be careful, and support each other. We don't have to face this alone."

The two of you stayed like that for a long time, the warmth of the bath and Wanda's comforting presence easing the pain that had been weighing on your heart.

After the bath, Wanda helped you into one of her shirts and a pair of soft shorts. The fabric was warm and comforting, carrying her familiar scent that enveloped you like a gentle hug. As you stood there, feeling the weight of the evening slowly lifting, Wanda led you to the living room.

She sat you down on the couch, then disappeared briefly into the kitchen, returning with two mugs of hot tea. Handing one to you, she settled beside you, her presence a reassuring anchor.

"Thank you," you murmured, wrapping your hands around the warm mug. The steam rising from the tea provided a soothing balm for your frazzled nerves.

Wanda smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You don't have to thank me. I care about you, and I hate seeing you like this."

You took a sip of the tea, letting its warmth seep into you. "It's just been so hard. Everything feels like it's falling apart."

Wanda reached out, taking your hand in hers. "I know. I’m sorry that it had to be like this. It truly was the last thing I wanted."

Her words brought a lump to your throat. "It just feels like…I don’t even know…I’ve never felt like this before."

Wanda squeezed your hand gently. "Then we take it one day at a time. We support each other, and we figure it out as we go. It's not going to be easy, but I believe we can make it work."

You looked into her eyes, finding a strength there that you desperately needed. "I want to believe that too," you whispered. "I want to be with you, no matter what."

Wanda leaned in, her forehead resting against yours. "We'll get through this. I know we will darling."

The two of you sat there in silence for a while, the steady rhythm of your breaths synchronizing. The pain and uncertainty were still there, but they felt more manageable with Wanda by your side. 

You checked your phone looking at the time it was already three in the morning.

Eventually, she pulled away slightly, her eyes searching yours. "Why don't we watch something? Distract ourselves for a bit."

You nodded, grateful for the distraction. "Okay. What do you have in mind?"

Wanda smiled, reaching for the remote. "How about we start with an episode of Bob's Burgers? I did promise, after all."

You couldn't help but laugh, a genuine smile breaking through the lingering sadness. "I'd like that."

She turned on the TV, and as the familiar opening theme of Bob's Burgers filled the room, you shifted with her until you were laying on top of her, feeling a sense of peace you hadn't felt in weeks. She pulled a blanket over the two of you.

As the episode played, you found yourself laughing along with the antics of the Belcher family. Wanda's arm around you and the warmth of her presence made everything feel a little bit better. The future was still uncertain, but in that moment, you knew you had someone who cared about you deeply, someone who was willing to face the challenges with you.

And for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope that things could get better. One step at a time, with Wanda by your side.

========================

One year later, your life looked completely different. The hardships and uncertainties of the past had given way to a future filled with promise and happiness. You and Wanda had navigated through the complexities of your relationship, emerging stronger and more connected than ever.

The apartment you shared was a cozy, vibrant space that reflected both of your personalities. The walls were adorned with a mix of Wanda's favorite vintage posters and your collection of quirky art. Plants thrived in every corner, adding a touch of nature to your urban sanctuary. The smell of fresh coffee and Wanda's homemade pastries often filled the air, creating an atmosphere of warmth and comfort.

It was a Saturday morning, and the sun streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow over the living room. You were curled up on the couch, a stack of textbooks and notes spread out before you as you prepared for your final exams. Wanda was in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepared breakfast.

"How's the studying going?" Wanda called out, her voice cheerful and light.

You looked up from your notes, smiling. "It's going well. Just a few more chapters to review, and I think I'll be ready."

Wanda appeared in the doorway, a plate of pancakes in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. She set them down on the coffee table in front of you, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "I know you'll do great. You've worked so hard."

"Thanks," you said, feeling a warmth spread through you at her words. "I couldn't have done it without you."

She sat down beside you, her hand finding yours. "We've come a long way, haven't we?"

You nodded, squeezing her hand. "We really have. It's hard to believe how different things are now."

Wanda smiled, her eyes filled with love and pride. "I'm so proud of you. You're about to graduate, and you've accomplished so much. And I'm so happy we took a chance on us."

Your heart swelled with emotion as you looked at her. "Me too. I can't imagine my life without you."

=================

The months leading up to your graduation were a whirlwind of activity and excitement. Wanda was there every step of the way, supporting you through the stress of final exams and celebrating each milestone with you. You both balanced your lives between work, study, and nurturing your relationship, finding joy in the little moments you shared.

Graduation day arrived, and the sense of accomplishment and joy was overwhelming. Dressed in your cap and gown, you stood in the crowd of graduates, scanning the audience for Wanda. When your name was called, and you walked across the stage to receive your diploma, the cheers and applause seemed to fade into the background as you locked eyes with her, her smile brighter than ever.

After the ceremony, you found her waiting for you, a bouquet of flowers in her hands. "Congratulations, graduate," she said, her voice choked with emotion.

You took the flowers, pulling her into a tight embrace. "We did it," you whispered, feeling tears of happiness welling up.

Wanda pulled back slightly, her hands cupping your face. "You did it. And I'm so incredibly proud of you."

The celebration continued into the evening, with friends and family joining you both for a party at your apartment. Laughter and music filled the air, and as the night wore on, you found yourself standing on the balcony with Wanda, the city lights twinkling below.

"It's been quite a journey," you said, leaning against the railing, Wanda's arms wrapped around you from behind.

"It has," she agreed, resting her chin on your shoulder. "And it's just the beginning. We have so much ahead of us."

You turned to face her, your eyes filled with love and gratitude. "I can't wait to see what the future holds, as long as I'm with you."

Wanda smiled, her eyes shining with the same love and commitment. "Me too. Here's to our future, together."

[mariacallous]

I’m not even sure whether I can taste pure Old Bay anymore, because the condiment is infused with so many memories of home. I grew up sprinkling it on everything—blue crabs, sure, but also watermelon, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese—and I can shuffle through decades of pictures from family reunions, county fairs, church picnics, and back porches where the iconic yellow, red, and blue tins keep popping up like someone’s second cousin, not quite front and center yet always in the frame.

If you’re new to Old Bay, get a tin and shake the contents liberally on popcorn or potato chips—a starter dish, from which you can and should expand. You’ll soon find that you can add the condiment to almost anything. One of my favorite dishes that uses Old Bay as an essential ingredient comes via an old family friend. Keith Davis is a Jack-of-all-trades: a fantastic general contractor, but also a church usher, a builder of wheelchair ramps, a Santa Claus when seasonally necessary, and, lately, a food-truck entrepreneur, grilling burgers and deep-frying funnel cakes for every community event and private party in the area. He goes by Mr. Keith; his food truck is known as Fat Boy’s Fixins, named in honor of the man who taught him to grill and whose Santa suit he inherited.

Of all the things Davis serves up, he might be best known for his crab soup, which he makes in ten-gallon batches and lets the local Ruritan Club sell by the pint every fall at the Waterfowl Festival, when somewhere between fourteen thousand and twenty thousand people descend on the Eastern Shore to see the work of hundreds of decoy carvers and local artists, listen to waterfowl-calling contests, and watch demonstrations of dock dogs, raptors, and fly-fishing. Davis is there every year, gossiping with his fellow-volunteers, talking with out-of-towners, and tossing hunks of crab meat into stew pots. Normally you’d have to shell out eight dollars for even just a cup, but here, exclusively for newsletter readers, free of charge, is the best crab soup you’ll ever taste, a shockingly easy, practically pre-made recipe for trying out America’s greatest condiment: Old Bay.

Mr. Keith’s Crab Soup

1 lb. crab meat (claw meat best) 64-Oz. bottle of Spicy V8 14.5 Oz. chicken broth 32 Oz. water 1 lb. mixed vegetables 1 Tbsp. Montreal Steak seasoning 1 Tbsp. Old Bay

Mix the V8, chicken broth, and water in a pot. Start heating the mixture, then add the vegetables, then the crab meat, and finally the spices. Cook on medium heat until the vegetables start to soften, stirring occasionally “so it doesn’t stick and burn on the bottom of the pot.”

[luvs4jhutch]

National Anthem

Fanfic type: Smut One Shot Word count: 2.7k+ Pairing: Josh Hutcherson x Fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; praising, edging, calling names (baby, sweetheart, etc), unprotected sex, dry humping, oral (m receiving), creampie, female pronouns, aftercare.. (I don't know how to write endings so i'll put it as a warning too LMAO)

Summary: In a night filled with opulence, you dressed to impress for your lover's mysterious surprise. From a chic restaurant to a lavish penthouse, you basked in the extravagance he showered upon you. The evening unfolded with decadent courses, expensive wines, and whispered promises of more indulgent encounters. As the night progressed, the dimly lit room enveloped you, its intimacy heightening the anticipation with each passing moment. The air was thick with desire as the lavish surroundings became a backdrop for an unforgettable rendezvous.

Author note: This is the first time I write something here, I hope you like it. English is not my first language btw, feel free to correct grammar and stuff. Merry christmas LMAOO<3

˝Money is the anthem of success so put on mascara and your party dress.˝

You looked in the mirror one last time and were radiant. Your hair in a half ponytail; the black short dress that was both elegant and casual; your lips... they looked so desirable... You were ready, and you knew it.

You looked at the time on your cell phone 06:54 PM. You knew Josh wasn't an unpunctual person, especially when it came to you. A message appeared on the screen of the device you were holding «hope you're ready for our surprise, sweetheart» You didn't even bother to open it.

You grabbed your expensive Louis Vuitton bag and a gorgeous fur coat, both gifts from your lover.

You checked the time one last time: 7:00pm sharp. The horn of Josh's Bugatti Veyron that you already recognized sounded twice, indicating that he was already waiting for you. You took your keys and opened the door to your luxurious residence. You couldn't see him, his windows were tinted, but you knew he could. As soon as you got close enough to the vehicle, Josh got out of it and approached you, kissed your hand and opened the door for you to get into the car. “You look stunning,” he says as he sits in the driver's side. “Thank you,” you responded, giving him a smile that maybe was fake, wondering whether to add an «I already knew that» or maybe an «I always am».

"Are you ready?" he asked looking into your eyes. You nodded at his question and smiled genuinely. "Yes I am".

Josh started the engine and the car purred at the action. He lightly placed his right hand on your thigh. This would be a long night.

You drove quickly down the highway. "Can I turn on the radio?" you asked, already knowing the obvious answer. "Yes, honey," your lover responded without taking his eyes off the road. "West Coast" by Lana del Rey began to be heard on all the car speakers.

You sang along to the lyrics, feeling the breeze in your hair. Josh smiled at you, admiring your beauty and your voice. He squeezed your thigh gently, making you shiver. You leaned closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He kissed your forehead, whispering "I love you". You said it back, even though you weren't sure if you meant it.

You wondered where he was taking you. He had been secretive about the surprise, only telling you to dress nicely and be ready by seven. You trusted him, but you also felt a bit nervous.

You looked out the window and saw the city lights. You recognized some of the landmarks. You were heading downtown, to the most exclusive area of the city. You wondered what kind of place Josh had booked for you. A fancy restaurant? A luxury hotel? A private club? You felt a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

As you approached the downtown area, you couldn't help but think about the extravagant possibilities awaiting you. The city lights reflected in your eyes, mirroring the sparkle of your designer jewelry.

Josh, focused on the road, continued to caress your thigh with a possessive grip. The anticipation grew as the car glided through the upscale streets. You subtly adjusted your dress, making sure it showcased your curves flawlessly.

The car pulled up in front of a lavish restaurant with a discreet entrance. A valet opened the door for you, and Josh guided you inside. The dimly lit ambiance and the soft music set the perfect scene for a romantic evening. As you entered, heads turned to admire the stunning couple.

Seated at a private table, the evening unfolded with decadent courses and expensive wines. Josh, absorbed in conversation, lavished you with compliments, occasionally interrupting to share an anecdote about his successful ventures. You listened attentively, feigning interest, your mind occasionally drifting to the price tags of the exquisite dishes.

Throughout the night, you played the role of the perfect trophy girlfriend, smiling for the cameras that discreetly captured your moments. The more Josh flaunted his wealth, the more you relished in the attention and the material pleasures that came with it.

As the night progressed, Josh surprised you with a small velvet box. Your heart raced with excitement as you opened it to reveal a dazzling piece of jewelry: a diamond necklace that matched the earrings he had gifted you on a previous occasion. You marveled at it, thanking him with a kiss on the cheek.

As the clock neared midnight, Josh suggested heading to his apartment to extend the celebration. Intrigued, you agreed, wondering what else he had in store for the night.

The car smoothly glided through the city streets once more, and soon, you found yourselves in front of a sleek, modern apartment building. Josh escorted you inside, the anticipation growing with each step. The private elevator ascended to the top floor, opening into a lavish penthouse adorned with city views and opulent furnishings.

The atmosphere changed, becoming more intimate as you entered the spacious living room. Soft music played in the background, and the city lights shimmered through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Josh poured glasses of champagne, toasting to the night and the surprises yet to unfold. "To us," you added, taking a sip of the bubbly liquid.

As the night wore on, Josh led you through the luxurious penthouse. He guided you to a dimly lit room where a large, four-poster bed dominated the space. You stepped into the room, your heart racing with anticipation. The soft lighting cast an alluring glow on Josh's features, making him even more irresistible. As he closed the door behind him, you could feel the tension between them escalate.

Josh slowly approached you, his eyes roving over your body in a way that made you feel both excited and vulnerable. He reached out and ran his hands to your hips, pulling you closer, sending a shiver down your spine. "Tonight is all about us." He whispered to your ear. His lips brushed against your neck, sending a wave of desire coursing through you.

He led you over to the bed, his hands never leaving your body. He sat down, indicating with a nod that you should sit on his lap, which you did. You leaned closer to his lips and closed the small distance that existed with a passionate kiss, full of desire. His hands ran possessively from your waist until they reached the top of your back, where the zipper of your dress was, which was slowly lowered, revealing the skin that shivered down with every touch and caress that Josh gave you.

He stopped kissing your mouth, starting to focus on marking, kissing and licking your neck. Your head threw back in pleasure and your hips began to move slightly on your lover's lap, feeling his erection beneath you.

"It looks like someone prepared for tonight," Josh smirked after observing a set of beautiful lingerie that you were wearing under your elegant clothing, a gift he had given you on one of your previous sexual dates. You chuckled as you began to loosen his tie and slowly unbutton his shirt. You helped him take off his shirt while he removed the luxurious diamond necklace he gave you a few hours before.

"I have to pay you somehow, right?" He approached your neck again as you said those words. "Mhm…" He responded with a sigh against your skin "I guess you do, baby." You humped faster at his cock and he bucked his hips slightly, looking for more friction.

As the room filled with their passionate moans and soft gasps, Josh started to unclasp your bra, leaving your breasts visible which Josh quickly began to massage, licking one of your nipples while playing with the other to give them equal attention. "Josh…" you moaned softly to his ear at the sensation.

The tips of his fingers began to play with the edge of your underwear, lowering it completely as he buckled his hips looking for release. He pushed you away gently to look at you in your eyes "Kneel down, baby…" he ordered and you obeyed him like his good girl. Cautiously, you began to remove his belt and unzip his pants, him looking at you with desire and lust. You helped him take off his pants and lightly caressed his crotch. He sighed at the mix of need, desire and your hand going up and down really slowly, almost tortuously. You felt him tremble at your touch and after playing for a while you pulled down his boxers, his hard cock already dripping pre-cum. You swear your mouth watered at the sight, and you quickly started licking his length, from base to tip, on which you left a small kiss before finally taking his cock into your mouth, never breaking eye contact. Her hand slid to your hair and stroked it slowly. You swirled your tongue around his tip and he leaned his head back, holding your head tighter and closer to him. You gagged feeling the tip of his cock touching the back of your throat and he immediately loosened his grip, letting you go at your own pace.

"Fuck…" He groaned and you hummed to his pulsating cock in response. His hand dropped to the bed sheets, squeezing them as he felt a knot form in his abdomen warning him of his orgasm. You noticed this and separated your mouth from his cock, a thread of saliva joining them both, as you began to jerk him off with a slow pace, edging him off. He rolled his eyes back into his head once more feeling his orgasm cutting off. He cupped your face gently in his hands, lifting it up. He looked into your eyes. His previously brown eyes were quickly consumed by the black of his dilated pupils, thanks to desire. You clumsily climbed back into his lap, his hands immediately settling on your hips with a firm, possessive grip. You grabbed his dick desperately and lined it up to your cunt, feeling the tip of it rub against you before sitting slowly on it.

"Oh fuck!" you exclaimed as he slid into you, hitting your cervix "God… you're so good…" He moaned as he felt your hot, tight pussy enveloping his cock. His hands left your hips and moved to your thighs, holding onto them as he started moving his hips slowly, pushing deeper inside you. You whimpered, meeting his pace as you grinded your hips against him. You could feel your orgasm building up, your pussy clenching around his cock with every thrust. He moaned, seeing your breasts swaying in time with his thrusts. "You're so fucking sexy riding me like that." He said, feeling your tight pussy milking his cock. His hips slapped against yours as he pushed deeper and harder inside you. Your body shaking with pleasure. Your eyes were rolled back in your head, your mouth open panting. You couldn't believe the pleasure you were feeling, his hard cock stretching you open.

"F…fuck… im so close…" You whispered between a moan, your eyes rolling back as you felt an intense wave of pleasure wash over you. "Be a good girl and cum for me, sweetheart…" you tried to respond, but only moans and sighs came out of your mouth. The orgasm hit you like an electroshock drawing an almost screamed moan. Your thighs trembling on top of Josh; your eyes completely rolled into your head. You fell onto Josh's chest, your head on his shoulder and he held you gently. He slowed his pace so you would come down from his orgasm. Josh held you close, feeling your body shuddering from the aftershocks of your intense orgasm. His heart raced, feeling the heat emanating from your body. He kissed your forehead softly, his own breathing heavy. "You're incredible…" he whispered to your ear before leaving another kiss in your forehead.

After a few moments, his heart rate slowly returned to normal and he couldn't hold back any longer. "Ready for round two, honey?" He asked, his voice hoarse from the pleasure. You nodded, feeling completely spent but eager for more. Josh pulled out of you slowly, making sure to prolong the pleasure before lying you down on the bed, his hard cock still twitching. Your legs spread slightly. He climbed on top of you, pinning your wrists over your head. His eyes hungrily eating you up and your body trembled with anticipation.

Josh thrust into you again, his movements both fast and hard, despite his efforts to maintain control. The sensation was intense, filling you up completely. His breathing became ragged as he felt himself close. "Fuck, you feel so good… so perfect for me…". You moaned loudly, feeling Josh's rough love deep within you. Your body arched off the bed, meeting his powerful thrusts eagerly.You could feel the intensity of his movements increasing further.

"I can't hold on much longer" Josh groaned, his hips slamming against yours in an unyielding rhythm. The head of his cock brushed against your cervix, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He bit his lower lip, trying to hold off his orgasm. His eyes were filled with lust. "Fuck, you're tight" he grunted, pushing deeper inside you. You wrapped your legs around him, encouraging him to go deeper. He felt your tight muscles gripping his shaft, pulling him closer to the edge.

His movements became erratic, thrusting into you with renewed force. "I'm gonna cum…" You moaned, feeling the pressure and tightness growing inside you. You arched your back, meeting his thrusts hungrily as he slammed into you again and again, feeling his cock twitching inside you. "I need you to cum inside me… please…" you whispered, your voice sultry and seductive. Your hips bucked up against him in perfect sync with his thrusts, your breasts swaying enticingly. Your nails dug into the sheets beneath you as Josh's pace quickened even more. "Cum for me…" you moaned seductively, pushing your hips up to meet his powerful thrusts.

Josh groaned loudly, his breaths becoming ragged as he felt himself getting closer to his climax. You writhed under him, meeting his thrusts eagerly. "Fuck, you're so tight… so hot…"

His hips slammed against yours one last time, his cock throbbing inside you. eyes closed tightly as he released himself into you, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm. His seed filled you up, feeling both hot and thick. He groaned loudly, his face contorted in pleasure.

He panted heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He collapsed onto you, your panting filling the room. His cock twitched inside you as he tried to regain control. Slowly, he pulled out of you, a trail of his essence leaking out.

After a few moments, his breathing returned to normal. Slowly, he rolled off you, panting heavily. He looked down at you, his eyes filled with satisfaction. "That was… intense." He said, still trying to catch his breath. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, his heart still racing from the intense pleasure he'd just experienced. Josh smiled at you softly, his eyes closed. He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from your face.

Josh sat up carefully, his muscles still quivering slightly from the exertion. He leaned over to grab a couple of tissues from the bedside table, returning to wipe the remaining moisture from your inner thighs and between your legs. Josh gently ran the tissues over his own lap, wiping away the mix of his own semen and your fluids. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down after the intense passion he had just experienced. After he was done cleaning up, he scooped up the discarded tissues and placed them in the trash can, then crawled back and cuddled up next to you. His arms wrapped around your waist and he pressed his face into your hair, inhaling your unique scent.

"That was amazing and… you were incredible," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. "I'm gonna have to spoil you rotten after this." he chuckled and you smiled back to him. "Aww… you don't have to…" you said while caressing his cheek. "Of course I do" He responded to your attempt of kindness, brushing a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead.

You curled into his warm embrace, feeling satisfied and fulfilled. A small smile played on your lips as you knew that this would not be the end of their secret encounters. There were many things you could ask for from him and he would gladly give, just to keep you by his side.

The room was a quiet sanctuary and your mind wandered to the tangible rewards that awaited you after this secret rendezvous. The diamond necklace he gave you whispered promises of future luxuries and you heard them attentively before falling asleep in your rich loverman's arms.

[luminoustarlight]

— ANAKIN SKYWALKER MASTERLIST

©️ luminoustarlight // i do not give permission for my work to be translated or posted on any other platforms.

-ˏˋplease reblog writing to support writers and their hard workˎˊ- 

i do not have a tag list. if you’d like to stay up to date with my writing, please follow @luminous-library and turn on post notifications!

organized from newest to oldest // last updated nov 29, 2023

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— Practice | smut, 2.4k

Playing with Anakin’s hair leads to you practicing your dominant side.

— Passionfruit | smut, 2.1k

Ingesting a foreign fruit leaves you and Anakin feeling strange.

— Your Eyes Only | smut, >1k

You leave Anakin a special recording on his tablet.

— State of Grace | fluff/comfort, 1.3k

Anakin finds comfort in you when he can't sleep.

— Had It Up To Here | smut, 4.6k

After argument, Anakin's patience for you has grown thin.

— So It Goes... | smut, coming soon

As a worker at a sex club on Coruscant, you've seen your fair share of characters. However you never imagined a Jedi Knight would be waiting for you in a private room. Anakin's indulgence at the club leads to some complicated feelings for the both of you.

— Good Things Come to Those Who Wait | smut, coming soon

Anakin teaches you a lesson in delayed gratification.

— Devils Roll The Dice | smut, coming soon

“Whatever number I roll, that’s how many times I’m going to make you cum.”

multi-part

— As Fate Would Have It | modern!au, dilf!anakin x onlyfans!/assistant!reader

— Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince | modern!au, high school!au

drabbles/blurbs

dad!anakin x dancer teacher!reader

dilf!anakin’s new assistant is his favorite onlyfans performer - now a series under the title "as fate would have it"!

anakin when he's sick

sin saturday drabbles

◂ main masterlist ▸ other hayden characters

requests are open!

[unabashegirl]

Vicious 12 — mafia hs

After his father's death, Harry Styles must take control of the family mafia while dealing with his unpredictable brother, Silas. He meets Y/N Castellano, the daughter of an Italian mafia boss, and learns about their arranged marriage.

Author's note: Happy Halloween everyone! I hope you are all having a great day and are enjoying all the candy and partying.

warnings: smut and cursing

---> vicious masterlist <---

The strip club was a den of dimly lit decadence, a haze of smoke and flashing neon lights. As Harry and Y/N stepped inside, they were greeted by a cacophony of pulsing music and the low murmur of conversation.

The air was thick with the scent of alcohol and perfume, a heady mix that assaulted the senses. Red velvet curtains draped along the walls, concealing private booths where patrons could indulge in more intimate encounters.

The main stage was a focal point of the club, bathed in a spotlight that illuminated the gyrating figures of scantily clad dancers. The dancers moved with practiced grace, their bodies undulating to the rhythm of the music.

Tables were scattered around the stage, occupied by men and women alike, their eyes glued to the mesmerizing performances. Waitresses in skimpy outfits weaved through the crowd, delivering trays of drinks to eager patrons.

The atmosphere was charged with an electric energy, a palpable sense of desire and anticipation. Men and women laughed and whispered, their voices blending with the sultry beats of the music.

"Mr. Styles, Lex, and Charlie! Well, well, what a surprise!" Annika's sultry voice cut through the pulsing music as she approached, clad in nothing but nipple covers and a thong that left little to the imagination. Y/N stood nearby, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as she took in the scene.

"Annika, it's good to see you," Lex greeted with a charming smile, a rare sight that caught Y/N off guard. She couldn't help but smirk at the realization that it took such a scene to earn a smile from him. Annika's laughter tinkled like a bell, but her gaze was sharp as it shifted to Harry, who stood next to Y/N.

"And who might this be?" Annika's tone held a hint of jealousy as her eyes flickered between Harry and Y/N.

Harry, ever the smooth operator, stepped forward with a smirk. "Annika, this is Y/N," he introduced, his voice low and seductive. "Annika is one of the star performers here."

Y/N offered a polite smile, trying to ignore the way Annika's gaze seemed to linger on Harry. "Nice to meet you, Annika," she said, her voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach.

Annika's eyes narrowed slightly, a subtle challenge in her gaze as she took Y/N's hand. "Likewise," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of competitiveness.

“Get me a room in the back. We have business to discuss” Harry commanded Annika, “Tell Jack that we are here too and to meet us with Liam” His tone was cold and sharp. He was there for business, and he needed everyone to know it.

They were shortly escorted to a spacious back room, dimly lit with soft, ambient lighting casting a warm glow. Plush leather couches lined the walls, interspersed with small, elegant tables adorned with flickering candles. The room had an air of exclusivity, with a hint of sensuality lingering in the atmosphere.

“Bring me a whisky,” Harry ordered as he settled into one of the luxurious couches, casually shrugging off his jean jacket and tossing it aside. He leaned back comfortably, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and interest as he lit up a cigarette. Beside him, Y/N took her seat, the tight fabric of her short dress rustling as she adjusted herself.

Lex and Charlie placed their orders, and Annika, the scantily clad stripper, turned her attention to Y/N. Her voice was sharp, cold with an edge of jealousy that didn't go unnoticed.

“You?” Annika inquired, her eyes flickering over Y/N with a mix of scrutiny and disdain. Y/N, however, remained unfazed, meeting Annika’s gaze with a cool, unwavering stare.

“Gin and tonic,” Y/N replied smoothly, crossing her legs elegantly as she settled back against the plush cushions. Her demeanor was poised, confident, and unyielding. Harry couldn't help but admire the way she held herself, the subtle defiance in her posture.

As Annika turned away to retrieve their drinks, Harry glanced sidelong at Y/N, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He found himself oddly pleased by her newfound confidence, the way she refused to be belittled or intimidated by anyone, even a stripper in a back room of a strip club. It was a side of her he hadn't expected, and strangely, it intrigued him.

After the drinks had been served, Annika returned with two more friends in tow. The room seemed to pulse with the beat of the music as they waited Liam and Jack. The woman had been sent by their bosses to entertain Harry and his companions, and they wasted no time in adding to the atmosphere.

Charlie and Lex watched with a mix of amusement and surprise as the dancers moved gracefully around the room, their bodies swaying to the rhythm of the music. It was a refreshing change from their usual routine, and they couldn't deny the allure of the moment.

Annika, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, made a beeline for Harry. With sensual movements, she practically crawled her way onto his lap, her body pressing tantalizingly close to his. Harry, ever the composed figure, watched her with a hint of amusement, his eyes twinkling with something unreadable.

Meanwhile, Y/N observed the scene with a cool detachment, taking slow sips of her gin and tonic as she watched the dancers move around the room. She had no desire to join in the festivities, content to simply observe the chaos unfolding before her.

As the music grew louder and the dancers became more daring in their movements, the room seemed to blur with a heady mix of excitement and desire. Harry, caught up in the moment, allowed himself to be drawn into the seductive dance, his hands moving over Annika's body with a practiced ease.

Annika gracefully detached herself from Harry's lap and sauntered back to the small stage in the room. With a teasing smirk, she slowly peeled off her nipple covers, leaving her completely bare from the waist up. Y/N couldn't help but be entertained by the reactions of the men, who seemed to be utterly mesmerized by the sight before them.

Harry, noticing the small smile playing on Y/N's lips, leaned in closer to her, his voice low and enticing. “Jealous?” he whispered in her ear, his breath warm against her skin. Y/N couldn't deny the intoxicating effect of his proximity, and she took a slow sip of her drink before responding.

“What is there to be jealous of?” she replied, her tone confident. In truth, she felt a sense of empowerment in the room, surrounded by desire and admiration. However, when it came to Annika, there was a flicker of something else entirely.

“The attention?” Y/N giggled, her laughter light and playful as she leaned in closer to Harry. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she pressed her hand against his thigh, feeling the heat of his skin beneath her touch.

“It's not exactly rocket science,” Y/N whispered into his ear, her voice low and teasing. She traced the shell of his ear with her lips, her breath warm against his skin. “Anyone could do it,” she added, her tone playful and inviting.

She could feel the tension between them, the electricity crackling in the air. Y/N enjoyed the thrill of the game, the playful banter that danced between them. It was a dangerous game, but one she was more than willing to play.

"Anyone? Really?" Harry asked, a mischievous smile playing on his lips as he leaned back, taking a drag from his cigarette and a sip from his whiskey. Feeling the closeness between them, he reached out and gently grasped her chin, his touch firm and commanding.

"Dance for me," Harry commanded, his voice low and filled with a hint of desire.

"But there are people—" Y/N started, her protest cut off as Harry's gaze held hers.

"I don't care," Harry interrupted, his tone firm and unwavering. "Let them watch."

There was a challenge in his eyes, a dare for her to step out of her comfort zone. Y/N felt a surge of excitement at the idea, the thrill of being watched adding to the already charged atmosphere between them. Without hesitation, she rose from her seat, the fabric of her dress swaying with her movements as she made her way to the small stage.

As the music pulsed through the room, Y/N let herself get lost in the rhythm. Her body moved with a sensual grace, the movements fluid and hypnotic. She could feel Harry's eyes on her, burning with intensity, and it only spurred her on further.

Much to Harry's surprise, Y/N seemed to know her way around the pole with a grace and ease that left him stunned. She spun around it, her movements fluid and mesmerizing, before effortlessly hanging from it upside down, her hair cascading towards the floor.

Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from her as she moved with a confidence and skill that seemed at odds with the innocent image she often portrayed. There was a raw sensuality to her movements, a fire that burned beneath the surface and captivated him completely.

As she twirled and spun, her body glistening with a light sheen of sweat, Harry found himself entranced by her.

Lost in the moment, she danced for him, letting the music and the heat of the room wash over her. The watching eyes only fueled her desire, and she moved with a newfound confidence, a sultry smile playing on her lips.

She dropped to her knees, the fabric of her dress slipping down her shoulders as she moved. The dress had risen to her hips, revealing the curve of her thighs. Charlie and Lex, who had been watching with rapt attention, were now completely captivated by Y/N and the way she moved. Their gazes were fixed on her, drawn to the undeniable allure she exuded.

Y/N got on all fours, the sway of her hips mesmerizing as she slowly crawled towards Harry. The air in the room crackled with tension as she closed the distance between them, her eyes locked with his.

As Harry leaned back, spreading his legs slightly to invite her closer, he couldn't help but notice the way his men were looking at her. There was a hunger in their eyes that made something primal stir within him. A possessive instinct surged through him, a fierce need to protect what was his.

"Get the fuck out," Harry growled, his voice filled with a fierce possessiveness that sent a shiver down Y/N's spine. But his men seemed transfixed, their eyes glued to her as if under a spell.

"I said the fuck out!" Harry roared again, his frustration mounting as they remained rooted to the spot. It was as if Y/N had cast some sort of spell over them, her body and her gaze holding them captive.

Finally, Charlie seemed to snap out of it, his eyes widening in realization. With a swift, decisive move, he grabbed Lex by the arm and practically dragged him out of the room. The other men followed suit, stumbling out in a daze, as if awakening from a dream.

As the door slammed shut behind them, Harry let out a heavy breath, his chest heaving with pent-up frustration. He turned to Y/N, his eyes dark and intense.

But as Y/N climbed onto his lap, her movements slow and deliberate, Harry pushed aside the jealousy that threatened to surface. He focused on her, on the way her body moved against his, the heat between them palpable.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, Harry pulled her closer, the scent of her intoxicating him. His gaze met hers, a silent challenge passing between them. In that moment, there was only the two of them, lost in the throes of desire and the undeniable chemistry that crackled between them.

"You...," he started, his voice rough with desire and something more primal. "You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N.”

Y/N settled herself comfortably on Harry's lap, feeling the heat of his body beneath her. With a deliberate slowness, she finished sliding off her dress, leaving her clad only in her underwear. She could feel the undeniable hardness of his dick beneath the fabric of his pants as she moved her hips against him, a smirk playing on her lips.

The sensation of him beneath her only fueled her confidence, and she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear.

“Is this what you wanted?” she murmured, her voice low and husky with desire. "To see me like this, to feel me against you?"

She didn't wait for a response, instead letting her actions speak for her. She continued to grind against him, the friction between them sending sparks of pleasure coursing through her body. The room seemed to fade away as she lost herself in the heat of the moment, focused only on the man beneath her and the deliciously forbidden thrill of it all.

Harry's hands came up, entwining in her hair, gently pulling it back to expose her neck to him. He leaned in, his lips trailing along her skin with a hungry intensity. He kissed and nibbled on her neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses that made her shiver with pleasure.

Y/N couldn't help but moan softly, her head falling back as his lips worked their magic on her sensitive skin. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the desire and need in his touch palpable.

His hands roamed over her body, exploring every curve and dip as if trying to memorize every inch of her. Y/N arched into his touch, her breath coming in ragged gasps as pleasure coursed through her veins.

Harry's kisses grew more urgent, more demanding, as if he couldn't get enough of her. He sucked lightly on her pulse point, feeling her heartbeat quicken beneath his lips.

Y/N's hands trembled with desire as she reached for the buttons of Harry's shirt, her fingers fumbling in her eagerness to feel his bare skin against hers. The tension crackled in the air between them, the heat of their passion almost suffocating.

With each button undone, she revealed more of his taut, muscular chest, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of him. Harry's skin was warm beneath her fingertips, smooth and inviting as she traced her fingers along his defined abs.

As the last button came undone, she pushed the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor forgotten. Y/N's hands roamed over his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath as she explored every inch of him.

Harry groaned softly as her lips met the heated skin of his chest, her kisses leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She sucked lightly on his collarbone, nipping and teasing with her teeth as she moved lower.

She leaned down, capturing his lips in a heated kiss as she ground her hips against his, seeking friction and release. Harry responded eagerly, his hands roaming over her body, exploring and teasing every curve.

With a low growl, he flipped her onto her back, pinning her beneath him as he claimed her lips hungrily. Y/N moaned into his mouth, her hands clawing at his back as she urged him closer.

Harry deftly undid the clasp of her bra, his breath hitching at the sight of her bare chest. He couldn't help but swallow hard, his desire building with each passing second. With a low groan of appreciation, he took his time kissing, touching, and suckling on each swollen nipple, savoring the way she moaned softly in response.

Her hands tangled in his hair, urging him closer, and he obliged eagerly, his own need growing by the second. The soft sounds of her pleasure only fueled his desire further, and he couldn't wait any longer.

His hand trailed down her body, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of her stomach before dipping lower to the elastic of her panties. With a swift motion, he began to pull them down, the anticipation making his pulse race.

Just as he was about to touch her, a sharp knock on the door shattered the moment, the sound jolting them both back to reality.

"Boss? Liam and Jack are here," Lex's voice came from the other side of the door, a note of urgency in his tone.

Harry cursed under his breath, frustration and desire warring within him. With a growl of annoyance, he continued enjoying her, his body protesting the interruption.

“Boss?”

Harry ground his teeth in frustration at the persistent knocking. "I heard you the first time!" His voice was sharp, a clear sign of his irritation. Y/N couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at her lips, finding his vexation slightly amusing.

Y/N slowly sat up, her movements languid as she retrieved her discarded clothes from the floor. The interruption had brought an abrupt end to their heated moment, leaving her with a sense of frustration and anticipation. She began to dress, the fabric of her clothes sliding over her skin, the memory of Harry's touch still lingering.

Meanwhile, Harry watched her with a hunger in his eyes, his gaze trailing over her as she dressed. He couldn't deny the attraction he felt towards her, the desire that pulsed between them even in the midst of their interrupted encounter.

“I want to take you so fuckin’ bad” he murmured, his gaze intense as it met hers.

Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine at his words, the heat of his gaze igniting a fire within her. She couldn't deny the effect he had on her, the way he made her feel desired and wanted.

--> chapter 13

[applejuicefruit]

you’re the best writing angst so i was wondering if i could request some angst with kylian where he cheats and she finds out please? no happy ending please?

writing this made me cry also i am sure kylian would not be like this in real life so this is all fictional haha

thank you for requesting this i hope you like it <3

kylian mbappe x reader

Was she worth it?

Twitter just fucked up your relationship.

You wished you weren’t so bored to go and spend hours and hours on Twitter but here you were, with your phone in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. You saw Kylian’s name trending on Twitter so you decided to check it out, you thought that maybe he was trending because of the upcoming game PSG had that week but nothing could have prepared you for what you were seeing.

Kylian, hand in hand with his best friend in one picture. Holding her waist in an other picture. Her kissing him on the cheek in the next picture. Kylian kissing her on the lips in the last picture. You knew he was having a “PSG dinner” but apparently he was at some party Neymar threw in one of the most exclusive clubs in Paris.

Those pictures went worldwide in a second.

“Kylian cheating on y/n is the last thing I needed to see” one of Kylian’s fan pages tweeted. You were glad that most of his fans were standing by your side, knowing that Kylian was madly in love with you and felt betrayed by this behaviour.

“What is they broke up and he’s just having fun?” someone else tweeted. How could you have break up when he posted a picture of the two of you together two days ago?

“I’m a daughter of divorced parents” someone else joked, you laughed a bit through tears knowing that it’s a typical fangirl thing to say. You said that too when Taylor Swift and Tom Hiddleston broke up so you couldn’t blame them.

“Finally he found someone prettier” someone said. That made you hurt. Millions of thoughts started running into your mind.

The worst part was probably that Neymar, one of your best friends was the one who threw the party and didn’t even invite you, probably knowing that Kylian was cheating on you. Everyone from the team was there. All of your friends and their wives and girlfriends, when Kylian only said it was a business dinner and you didn’t have to go because it would have been boring, instead he was partying and cheating on you. And everyone knew and said nothing.

You couldn’t explain what you were feeling. You were feeling humiliated, embarrassed, betrayed by the people you thought were your friends, sad, angry, disappointed and heart broken. A mix of everything that didn’t go well with the wine you were drinking.

You saw people tagging you on Instagram and decided to open it, it couldn’t have been worse that Twitter you thought. It was so wrong.

Neymar posted a few stories where everyone was having fun, drinking and dancing. Your best friend posted a video of Kylian and whoever that girl was who was sat on his lap while they were hugging. Your best friend. The man who threatened Kylian once you started dating. He posted a story where Kylian, that girl, Achraf and Hiba were there all laughing and having fun. Your two other friends. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, feeling betrayed by them and Kylian.

You knew everyone was drunk and that Neymar would have regretted posting those pictures the next day but it was too late. You saw the pictures, the whole world saw the pictures.

You put your Instagram private, unfollowing everyone who was there at the party and blocking them, including Kylian too.

You were so tired you went straight to bed and cried yourself to sleep.

Kylian got home around 3 am, drunk but not too drunk to know what happened that night. He knew he fucked up bad. Neymar started feeling guilty too he tried to reach your DMs but couldn’t find nothing on you, seeing you blocked him.

“She blocked me” he texted to Kylian who left him on read. Kylian immediately checked his insta but he couldn’t found you either, meaning you saw the pictures and the videos. He fucked up really bad.

He decided to sleep in the guest bedroom knowing you probably wouldn’t want to see him that night.

He woke up before you, feeling a little hungover but more worried about how his relationship might turn. He made some breakfast for the two of you and waited for you to wake up.

You didn’t even know that Kylian was back home so you simply got out of your bedroom and went straight to the kitchen, only to find Kylian sat at the table with a guilty look on his face.

Good. That’s how you wanted him to feel. Guilty. Humiliated. Alone. As you felt last night.

“Mon amour can we talk please?” he asked you but you immediately corrected him

“Y/n. Not mon amour, just y/n” you said with a hard look on your face. You had no more tears after last night. Sadness ran so madness and anger could walk. You thought about what to do all night and the answer was easy, breaking up with him in the most cruel way. You never felt so sad and humiliated like last night so it was only fair that he felt the same way.

“Baby please…” he said standing up from the chair and taking a few steps towards you but you backed off

“Y/n” you repeated

“I’m so sorry, I swear…” he said, a few tears falling from his eyes

“About what? Cheating? Lying? Humiliating me? Be more specific Mbappè” you said calling him by last name

“For everything…I wish I could say I was just drunk but I wasn’t, I just…I have no excuses but it wasn’t my intention to cheat on you” he said but you couldn’t help but laugh

“Are you even listening to yourself Kylian? First you lie to me telling me you have a business meeting, then I find out that you are with Neymar, my best friend who threw a party and didn’t even invite me, and for last I see pictures and videos of you cheating on me with I don’t know who, while laughing and having fun and all you can say is sorry?” you said, your hard look never leaving your face, you didn’t want to show your weakness because you knew that if you started crying you would forgive him “Do you know how I felt? When everyone I knew were having fun knowing that you cheated? I felt so fucking humiliated and sad and mad and all I wanted to do was never seeing you again, something that I’m going to do soon because you’ll never see me again Kylian” you said, your look never leaving his face

“What-what are you talking about?” he asked, his voice cracking a bit while tears fell from his face

“That it’s over. We’re done. You’re dead to me” you said taking off the promise ring he got you for your last birthday. A promise to love you that he couldn’t keep.

“No-no this isn’t real…I made a mistake I know, she doesn’t mean nothing to me, I need you here you-you can’t do this” he said fully crying. You’ve never seen Kylian crying so much and a part of you felt bad, the other part was proud of you for standing against him.

“I already did it. I’ll be back when you’re at practice so I can pack and leave…I don’t want to see you ever again, I only hope she was worth it” you said leaving your apartment, you didn’t care if you were wearing only your pajamas, you needed to get away from that house as soon as possible.

You reached for your car and once you were inside you let all of your tears fall. Sobs hurting your chest, your breathing fast and heavy. You started driving, you had no idea of where to go. When something bad happened and Kylian wasn’t there you would usually call Neymar but you couldn’t face him at the moment. But in the same time you were thinking about Neymar he popped up in the home of your phone, trying to call you.

You answered, ready to end him as you just did with Kylian.

“Y/n honey where are you? Kylian told me everything, are you safe? Are you driving?” he asked through the phone

“So now you care?” you asked, your voice breaking a little

“What you mean? Of course I care about you…” he said back

“Oh cut the bullshit! Did you have fun last night?” you sarcastically asked him

“Y/n listen to me…” he tried to speak but you stopped him

“No you listen to me. You were my best friend. Were because you’re a total stranger now to me. You had the nerve to post about Kylian and his new chick on your stories and now you’re asking me if I’m okay? Of course not! Kylian’s dead to me, I don’t want to ever see him again, he broke all of my trust and so did you…Ney I thought you really cared” you took a deep breath and continued talking “I don’t care how drunk you were, I don’t care honestly…just so you know, we’re done. You’re dead to me too, you and your little friend and all of the people who I thought were my friends. It’s over” you said before hanging up, not even giving him the chance to speak. He tried to call you back but you simply wouldn’t answer. You kept driving without nowhere to go. Almost an hour later you stopped in an empty parking lot, trying to recompose yourself and, with your spam account, checking instagram one last time to see if the news reached everyone. Apparently it did.

Kylian posted a picture of the teddy bear he gave you for your birthday and that you kept in the living room near the couch with a caption that said “a single mistake can turn your life upside down, i’ll regret it for the rest of my life but if you’re seeing this i wish you every good thing, you’re too pure for this world, love you forever, kylian”.

You sobbed a little but it was time for you to move one. You couldn’t break down now, everyone betrayed you, it was you and you only.

[mustainegf]

can you write a dave mustaine smut with rockstar reader who's band is a rival of Megadeth? maybe with some back and forth degradation and them fighting for the top position (your choice on who ended up being the bottom).

then them seeing a rumor abt them on the press days later🤭

THANK YOU I LOVE YOU SOSOSOSOSO MUCH MARRY ME PLS

YES ILL MARRY YOU!??? THIS IS ONE OF THE BEST REQS IVE GOTTEN I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING!!!

The pulsating bass of the music throbbed through the walls, mingling with the laughter and shouts that filled the air.

The party was loud, a chaotic jumble of rockstars, groupies, and industry insiders.

The elite of the metal world were all gathered under one roof, the tension between rival bands almost unbearable.

I scanned the crowded room, my sharp eyes taking in the scene. As the lead guitarist of a thrash band, I’d learned to read a room quickly.

"Look who decided to grace us with her presence," a low, sardonic voice drawled from behind me. I turned, already knowing who it was.

Dave Mustaine.

The notorious frontman of Megadeth stood there, a smirk playing on his lips. His fiery red hair was a stark contrast to the dim lighting, and his piercing caramel eyes bore into mine with a mix of curiosity and disdain.

Dave and I never got along, not completely at least. He could switch on a dime from sweet to salty and it seems he’s made his pick for the night.

"Mustaine," I greeted coolly, my tone icy enough to rival his.

"Surprised you could tear yourself away from your little fan club," he remarked, his gaze sweeping over the room before settling back on me.

My eyes narrowed. "And I'm surprised you could tear yourself away from your ego."

Dave chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that settled in my stomach. "Still got that razor-sharp tongue, I see. Just like on stage."

"Someone's got to keep you in check," I shot back, my heart pounding despite my steady voice. The air between us crackled with animosity and something else.. something darker, more primal.

"Funny," Dave said, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. "I thought that was your job. Keeping the wannabes in check."

My jaw clenched. "Watch it, Mustaine. You're not as untouchable as you think."

"Is that a threat?" he asked, his voice dropping lower, challenging.

I met his gaze head-on, the tension between us tightening like a coiled spring. "It's a promise."

He glared, a flicker of desire masked behind his eyes. I could hardly get a chance to continue before he had his large calloused hand wrapped around my wrist, tugging me along with him.

I glanced at the surrounding area, wondering where we were going. A bathroom. We were heading toward a small private restroom, the door already shut behind us. I didn't have time to prepare myself.

The restrooms here were like small rooms, private once you got inside. And I knew this was going to work in our favour.

Dave glared down at me, his hands pressing on either side of the wall by my head. He leaned over me, leaving me in his shadow.

"You better be careful. I don't take kindly to threats," he warned, his eyes blazing with heat.

"And I won't hesitate to prove it." I smirked, uncaring about his warning. In fact, I dared him to try. "I told you it was a promise, not a threat," I grinned.

He scowled at me, his eyes flashing with anger. He stepped back, giving me some breathing room.

"We'll see who's laughing at the end of this," he growled, his words like a promise.

I narrowed my eyes at him, not caring what happened next. "Do it then," I taunted, pushing him to make his move. I could feel his eyes on me, assessing my every move.

He was trying to gauge my reactions, figuring out what made me tick. I met his gaze head-on, my heart pounding in my chest. His eyes flashed with a flare of desire.

Dave wasted no time, shoving his lips onto mine, his fingers working at pulling my shirt off.

He tore the fabric off of me, leaving my laced bra and boobs in his attention. "Think you're so much better than me? Huh?" Dave growled, harshly gripping my breasts before unhooking my bra and tossing it into the corner.

I smirked at him, my eyes flashing with challenge.

I could feel his eyes roaming over me, taking in my body. It felt like he was assessing me, trying to figure out how to handle me.

"I don't think I'm better than you," I whispered, giving him a soft peck before finishing. "I know I am."

Dave's eyes flashed with anger, but he couldn't hide the lust in them. "You're nothing more than a pretty face."

Dave gave up unbottoning his shirt, leaving it down to his stomach before he was tugging at his jeans.

"Let's see how pretty your face is when I'm done with you," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

"How does that sound?" I took a step back, not bothering to hide the lust in my eyes.

"Lets see if you can hold up," I gave him a pout, kicking off my pants whilre watching him angrily tug down his jeans and boxers.

He stood before me, all arrogant confidence, a sight that never failed to turn me on. I smiled to myself, staring at his cock for the first time.

"Take your panties off, slut.." he groaned, standing over me as I stripped my final layer for him.

Ilooked down as his hand gently teased his length, massaging his precum into the tip.

My eyes rose back up to meet his as he smirked at me. "Go ahead, pretty boy... Play with yourself," I chuckled.

Dave glared at this, eyeing me down. "Don't you get smart with me," he snapped slightly, leaning closer.

"Or I'll show you what happens when you do." I raised a brow at him, feigning innocence. I knew he would cave soon enough.

"You want to play rough, then I can definitely do that," I said slowly, running my finger across my nipple, circling it. "Such a slut."

he muttered, his eyes flashing with lust. Dave grabbed me suddenly, holding me close against the wall. My legs wrapped instinctively around his waist. My core shuddered at being this close to his throbbing cock.

I wanted to taste him, feel him, have him. My hands ran up his chest, feeling the muscles flex under my touch. Dave stared at me, his eyes hard and intense.

"You're so sure of yourself, aren't you?" He held me by the hips, his other hand massaging my breast.

"Yes," I answered honestly, biting my lip slightly, and I could see his pupils dilate at my response.

"That's what I thought," he rumbled. I shivered at his words, loving that he had taken charge.

I was becoming needier for him, I was practically dripping.

I nodded eagerly, looking up at him through my lashes. "Take me," I whispered, my voice trembling. Dave's eyes darkened.

"I think you should say please," he said, his voice husky with need. "Please, take me," I repeated, making sure I spoke the word clearly. Dave smiled smugly. I felt inferior knowing he had beat me to dominance.

It only took seconds before Dave and lined himself with me, slipping his full length into me with a swift pump.

I gasped as he filled me, my body quivering from the force of his thrusts. He grunted with each one, using his hand to keep my hips in place, holding me firmly against him and the cold tile wall.

"Yeah," he grunted, his eyes darkening. "So good.

So wet for me, slut." I moaned, lost in the sensations. This man knew exactly what he was doing. He was taking control. He was showing me how much better he was.

"Look at you, all fucked out and I've hardly been inside you for a minute." Dave heaved, staring at me with an evil smirk. "Still think you're better than me?" He snipped.

I smirked back at him. I was a little breathless, but I managed to get out, "No," I whispered, my eyes meeting his, my smile growing wider. "Never," I said as I moved my hips to match his, adding to his thrusts.

I knew he would never ever let me live it down, but in the moment I couldn't care less.

All I cared about was how perfect he felt inside me, every vein teasing my gummy walls. Dave growled, matching my movements. He reached up to kiss me again, his hand moving down to massage my clit as he did.

"Fuck! Fuck!" he cursed, the veins bulging along his neck. He slammed home, hissing out another curse. I felt his cock throb deep within me, his hot cum filling me.

Dave didnt stop though, he continued pumping, he knew I hadn't cum yet. Something about that turned me on.

"Cum for me, do it..." he grunted, burying his face in my neck. His cum slipped out of me as he thrusted.

"So desperate aren't you?" I teased, watching his face which was contorted in sexual frustration.

"Fuck," he swore, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head. I laughed at the way he was acting. He might have been the best thing I ever laid my eyes on.

"Dave, mmm right there... I'm so close, baby.." I whined, running my fingers through his long curly hair. Never once did I think I'd ever call Dave Mustaine "baby" while he held me and fucked me loose.

But in this moment, I felt like the world had shifted. Everything made sense. "Cum for me, beautiful," he urged, his eyes boring into mine, daring me to cum.

"Yesss!" I yelled, twitched as I came all over him.

I heard him groan, and I saw him go still. "Wow," I sighed, smiling contentedly. Dave looked at me as if he didn't know whether to be angry or pleased.

He cleared his throat. "Well that was unexpected." I snickered. "Shh," I hushed him, enjoying the warmth of his body pressed against mine. I trailed my fingertips over his arms, and his chest.

"This doesn't change anything.." Dave huffed. But the way he cuddled into me said different.

I gazed into those sharp eyes of his, realizing how pretty they were. "You sure?" I asked with a smirk.

Dave's expression hardened for a moment, a flicker of the defiance I was so familiar with.

He brushed a strand of hair away from my face, his touch surprisingly gentle. “Fuck, I don’t know.” He muttered.

I leaned into his touch, the lingering heat between us impossible to ignore.

A few days later, the tabloids were ablaze with rumors. Headlines screamed about Dave and I.

The metal world was in a frenzy, fans and critics alike speculating about what this meant for our bands.

"Enemies in Public, Lovers in Private?"

Part of me was annoyed. The last thing I needed was the press dissecting my personal life. But another part of me-the part that thrived on chaos and defiance-kind of liked it. The whole thing felt taboo, forbidden. It was a secret thrill that I couldn't quite shake.

Truth was, I hadn't been able to stop thinking about Dave. The way his hands had felt on my skin, the rough passion of our encounter. I wanted more. The thought of it made my heart race, a mix of excitement and danger. I wondered if maybe the fiery frontman would be willing to see me again.

[thebunnednun]

LOYALTY [Chapter 3]

Katsuki Bakugou x Sugar Baby! Reader

Summary: Fuck a breakup, you ever have your fiance and partner of 8 years dump you during his promotion party in front of your bosses and the whole office with the girl he told you, “Don’t worry about,” on his arm?

The man you moved continents to support and move in with while you worked from home and helped promote his hero career because you thought he loved you and he called it an investment in your future together while you just did it out of love?

Welp, now he’s kicked you out in a strange land and you’ve gotta make it on your own. When you can't get a new job or apartment and tuition is almost due: you’ve got two options: Strip it or lose.

And I guess the angry blond that keeps coming back to your club wants to help you too.

Chapter summary: You and Katsuki share a intimate moment before meeting face to face for the first time when you return his wallet after he tips you $$$$$ for a dance.

This chapters song is: Kendrick Lamar - LOYALTY. ft. Rihanna

Put that shit on loop.

------------------Chapter 3: Unexpected encounter-------------------

The club was a hive of activity tonight, the buzz of payday energy pulsing through every corner. You walked through the throng of people with a sense of purpose, a slight smile tugging at your lips as you considered just how much had changed in the last few weeks. Thanks to the generous donations from your online followers, particularly that mystery guy, you’d managed to pay off your tuition and even order some new furniture for your “room.” You’d been shocked when the items in your shopping cart had been checked off before you even had the chance to think twice about them.

Your landlord, Mr. Muhammad, had been helpful, going with you to scout out potential apartments and vouching for you as a reliable tenant. As a thank-you, you’d been buying groceries here and there, trying to show your appreciation. They were becoming your family in this. The fact that you were finally on the path to securing your future, both financially and academically, felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

But tonight, you were back at the club, ready to earn what you could from the crowd that had gathered.

You emerged from the dressing rooms, adjusting the straps of your outfit as you made your way towards the main floor. The girls—Marshmallow and the others—were already in their usual spot, laughing and chatting excitedly. When they saw you, they waved you over with wide grins.

“You should totally join us on stage today!” Ruby said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

You felt your face redden at the suggestion, the idea of being out there in the spotlight making your heart race. But before you could respond, Marshmallow chimed in, her tone reassuring. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. It’s just an offer.”

You looked around the club, taking in the sea of faces, the noise, the energy. It was busier than usual—payday always brought in the crowds. Your usual spot, the private section where you danced behind glass, seemed quiet in comparison. 

“I’ll do a little walk around and head to my usual spot,” you finally said, your voice thoughtful. “If no one shows up after twenty minutes, I’ll join you all on stage.”

The girls cheered at your decision, and Marshmallow blew you a kiss, her expression playful. You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement as you turned to head to the back of the club.

But as you began to walk, the path ahead of you suddenly became blocked. A group of men had gathered near the entrance to the private sections, their loud laughter and boisterous behavior catching your attention. One of them—a tall, muscular guy with a cocky grin—stepped forward, his eyes locking onto you.

“Well, what do we have here?” he drawled, his voice dripping with arrogance. He looked you up and down, clearly assessing you like you were some kind of prize. “You look like you’d be a fun time.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, keeping your expression sweet as you tried to sidestep him. “I’m just heading to my section,” you said, your tone polite but firm. “You can’t touch me but you can enjoy the show.”

The guy wasn’t having it. He stepped in front of you again, blocking your path. “Aw, c’mon. Don’t be like that. How about you come hang out with us instead?” Nope, nope, nope. You knew a cokehead when you saw one. 

You felt your patience thinning, but you kept your composure. “Sorry, but I’ve got work to do,” you replied, trying to move around him once more.

This time, one of the bouncers noticed the interaction and started making his way over, his expression stern. Before the guy could say anything else, the bouncer stepped in, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Let her through,” he said in a no-nonsense tone.

The guy looked like he was about to argue, but the bouncer’s glare shut him up quickly. With a huff, he stepped aside, allowing you to pass.

You nodded your thanks to the bouncer before continuing on your way, your heart pounding slightly from the encounter. As you walked towards your usual spot, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of determination. This place could be tough, but you’d gotten this far, and you weren’t about to let some jerk ruin your night.

Finally reaching your private section, you stepped inside, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. The room was quiet, the familiar setting helping to calm your nerves. You were about to slip behind the glass, ready to begin your routine, but as you looked out into the club, you realized something.

Tonight felt different. The energy, the crowds, even the encounters—it all seemed to be leading to something. You weren’t sure what it was, but there was a feeling in the air, an undercurrent that made your skin tingle with anticipation.

As you started your routine, moving to the music that pulsed through the club, you couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was going to be significant. Whether it was joining the girls on stage or something else entirely, you had the sense that you were standing on the edge of something new, something that could change everything.

The club’s usual hum of activity had faded into the background as you settled into your private section. The room was dimly lit, the low, sultry glow casting long shadows across the floor. You adjusted your costume—a tight, sheer two piece set that clung to your curves, accentuating every dip and swell. The fabric was soft against your skin, shimmering slightly under the dim lights, and you checked to make sure it was sitting just right. 

Suddenly, you heard them—the footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, and echoing out across the club floor like a metronome. The sound was unmistakable, a slow, steady rhythm that seemed to announce his arrival long before you could see him. A strange sense of familiarity washed over you, as you knew this client just by the way he walked.

You quickly straightened up, pulling the straps of your top taut against your shoulders and making sure every inch of the material hugged you just right. This client wasn’t like the others; he only watched you dance without asking you for anything lewd or to see your face. He didn’t even make song requests, you didn’t know why, and you weren’t going to ask. 

You watched as he approached the sofa, his tall frame casting a shadow that stretched across the floor. He moved with a kind of confidence that made the air feel heavy, charged. You couldn’t see much of his face, just the outline of his spiky hair and the broadness of his shoulders, but something about his presence sent a shiver down your spine. He sat down, his large boots making a final thud against the floor as he settled in, the sound resonating through the room.

Deciding it was time to begin, you turned to the console and selected a song that fit the mood—Kendrick Lamar and Rihanna’s “Loyalty.” The deep bassline filled the room, vibrating through the floor and into your bones, the rhythm perfectly matching the sensuality you intended to convey. You let the music guide you, your body moving in time with the beat, every step deliberate, every motion slow and controlled.

“It's a secret society

  All we ask is trust

 (All we ask is trust)

  All we got is us

Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty

Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty,”

As Kendrick and Rihanna’s voices flowed through the speakers, you began to sway, your hips rolling in time with the lyrics, the movements deliberate and teasing. You ran your hands down your sides, feeling the soft fabric glide over your skin before slipping them to the hem of your skirt. The lights caught the subtle shimmer of the material, highlighting your silhouette as you slowly peeled it away from your body, revealing the smooth curve of your ass.

“I’m a savage, I’m an asshole I’m a King,” 

Kendrick’s voice echoed, and you turned your back to the glass, arching as you pushed the skirt down over your hips. You caught a glimpse of the client in the reflection, his figure still and silent, but you could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move. The intensity of his gaze made your heart race, adding to the thrill of the performance.

“Tell me who you loyal to

Do it start with your woman or your man?”

You continued, rolling the fabric down your legs, bending at the waist to give him a full view of your body. The costume pooled around your ankles, and you stepped out of it, kicking it to the side. Now you were down to your matching bikini top and bottoms, the fabric clinging to you, highlighting the curves you knew he was watching intently. 

“Do it end with your family and friends? 

Or you're loyal to yourself in advance?”

You turned to face him again, your fingers trailing down your body, over your thighs, teasing the edges of your bottoms as Rihanna’s voice took over.

“I said, tell me who you loyal to

Is it anybody that you would lie for?”

She sang, and you mirrored the confidence in her voice, sliding your hands up your torso, arching your back as you thrust your chest forward. You let the straps of your bikini top slip down your shoulders, giving him just a hint of what lay beneath before pulling them back up again. The anticipation built, the heat between you and the client almost tangible, thickening the air in the small room.

“Anybody you would slide for?

 Anybody you would die for?

 That's what God for,”

As the song neared its end, you dropped to your knees, spreading them slightly as you swayed your hips from side to side, your hands running through your hair, then down your neck, and across your chest. You gave one last slow, deliberate roll of your hips, letting the music guide you as you finished with a final arch of your back, the movement accentuating every curve.

The song ended, and you stilled, catching your breath, expecting him to get up and leave as most clients did once the performance was over. But when you glanced up, he was still sitting there, unmoving, his figure dark against the dim light of the room.

Puzzled, you slipped through the side door that led to the backroom where one of the bouncers stood. “Hey,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “why isn’t the guy leaving?”

The bouncer gave you a once-over before turning to check on the client. When he came back, there was a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “He wants to know if he could buy an hour with you.”

You tried to mask the surprise on your face, forcing yourself to appear cool and composed. You paused for a moment, pretending to think it over, before nodding. “Tell him yes.”

The bouncer nodded and left to relay the message, leaving you with your thoughts. You pressed your nose against the glass, trying to get a better look at the man who had asked for the extra time. His hair was spiky, sticking out in a way that seemed almost familiar. His boots, large and sturdy, suggested a man who was used to being on his feet, and his broad frame hinted at strength, power. He exuded an aura of control, but there was something else, something that intrigued you.

You couldn’t help but wonder what the fuck it was. 

As the bouncer returned, there was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, perhaps, or curiosity. "The customer wants the same song," he said, his voice gruff yet tinged with the faintest hint of a smile. "He wants to see you dance to it again. You can switch up the routine, but he specifically asked for the same track." You nodded, a surge of anticipation bubbling up within you. The thought of performing the same song for the same man, knowing he was still captivated by your movements, sent a thrill down your spine. 

You watched the bouncer close the door behind him, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room with only the frosted glass between you and your mysterious client.

With a quick decision, you moved to the corner where your outfits were kept. You stripped off your bikini, reaching for something a bit more daring—a lacy, black two-piece that left just enough to the imagination while hugging your curves in all the right places. The sheer stockings and garter belt added a touch of vintage allure, making you feel powerful and sensual as you adjusted them, ensuring every strap was perfectly aligned.

Before turning the lights back on, you glanced at the frosted glass. A mischievous grin played on your lips as you tapped the control to dim the lights further, bathing the room in a sultry, amber glow that cast soft shadows across the space. You wanted this routine to feel intimate, like a secret whispered in the dark between two best friends.

When you were ready, you positioned yourself against the glass, your hands splayed out in front of you, feeling the cool surface beneath your fingertips. You tapped your fingers to the opening beats, letting the music fill the room, its rhythm pulsing through you as you began to move.

“My resume is real enough for two millenniums  

A better way to make a wave, stop defendin' them  

I meditate and moderate all of my wins again  

I'm hangin' on the fence again,”

You changed the pace, slowly rolling your hips to the beat, letting your body melt into the music. This time, your movements were more daring, more deliberate. You pressed your chest against the glass, the coolness a stark contrast to the heat building within you. The fabric of your outfit teased at the edges of your consciousness, reminding you of every inch of skin it covered, and every inch it left exposed.

“I'm always on your mind  

I put my lyric and my lifeline on the line  

And ain't no limit when I might shine, might grind  

You rollin' with it at the right time, right now  

Only for the dollar sign,”

With each word, you leaned into the glass, pressing your body closer, your breath fogging up the surface. You let your fingers trace over the fog, leaving a little heart before stepping away, toying with the barrier between you and him. You didn’t know where all this confidence came from but you weren’t gonna waste it. Your movements were slower, more deliberate, the sway of your hips more pronounced as you turned and arched your back, sliding down the glass as if giving in to the gravity of his gaze.

“Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty  

 Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty  

10-4, no switchin' sides  

            I need  

 Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty  

Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty,”

You dropped to your knees, arching your back as your hands slid down your body, feeling the lace and the softness of your skin beneath your fingertips. You let the music take over, your body moving in perfect sync with the beat. The lyrics spoke of loyalty, a deep and unwavering connection, and you channeled that intensity into every motion. You never had that before, but you knew what it was supposed to feel like. 

“Tell me who you loyal to  

Is it money? Is it fame? Is it weed? Is it drink?  

Is it comin' down with the loud pipes and the rain?  

Big chillin', only for the power in your name,"

As the music reached its peak, you stood up, arching your back as you slowly peeled off one of the sheer stockings, teasing him with every movement. You pressed yourself fully against the glass, your body leaving faint impressions in the fog as you moved. You brought your hand up, drawing a small heart in the condensation, before letting it fade away as you continued to dance, your body a silhouette against the light.

"Tell me who you loyal to  

Is it love for the streets when the lights get dark?  

Is it unconditional when the 'Rari don't start?  

Tell me when your loyalty is comin' from the heart”

With the final beats of the song, you leaned back against the glass, your breath heavy, your body flush with excitement. You slid down to the floor in a split, letting the music carry you as you reached the end of your routine. As the last notes faded, you expected him to gesture for more, but he remained seated, the shadow of his figure unmoving from the red leather sofa.

“It's so hard to be humble  

  It's so hard to be  

 Lord knows is I'm tryin'  

Lord knows is I'm dyin', 

          baby”

On the other side, Bakugou was struggling to keep his composure. His usual mask of indifference was slipping as he watched you, his eyes glued to the screen. The way you danced, the way your body moved in perfect sync with the music— those fucking lyrics — it was driving him crazy. He could feel the heat rising in his face, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to maintain control.

What was it about you that got under his skin? 

He couldn’t figure it out, but he knew one thing for sure—he didn’t want this to end. When you pressed yourself against the glass, leaving that little heart in the fog, it felt like a direct hit, and he was barely keeping it together. His hands clenched into fists, trying to resist the urge to blow off steam. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to regain his composure.

But the truth was, you had him—completely and utterly. And there was no turning back now.

‘Fuck.’

The moment the knock echoed through the room, you nearly jumped out of your skin. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife, and for a split second, you forgot where you were and what you were doing. Your breath hitched as you tore your gaze away from the mysterious man behind the glass. The knock had shattered the strange, intimate spell that had settled over the two of you.

But he was still there, still watching, still touching the glass where your hand met his. The connection between you felt oddly real, almost tangible through the cold, solid barrier that separated you. You could see his fingers, large and rough, tracing the heart you’d drawn earlier. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if he were handling something precious.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to ground yourself in the moment. This was just a performance, just another routine. You’d danced for plenty of clients before, had them watch you, admire you, but none of them had ever done this. None of them had touched the glass like this, as if they were trying to reach through and connect with something deeper. It was… unsettling, in a way that made your heart race for reasons you couldn’t quite name.

His hand dwarfed yours, the size difference almost startling. Even with the platform heels giving you extra height, he still towered over you, his presence almost overwhelming. You could feel the heat of his body radiating through the glass, a warmth that seeped into your bones and made your skin tingle.

You hesitated, unsure of what to do next. The whole situation felt surreal, like something out of a dream. But the show had to go on, and you weren’t about to let a little weirdness throw you off your game.

With a deep breath, you slowly moved closer to the glass, stalking up to the barrier with a predatory grace. Your eyes never left his head, trying to read the expression on his face, but the frosted glass obscured his features, leaving only the shadow of his form visible. The only thing clear was his hand, still pressed against the glass where yours had been.

You stopped just inches away, close enough that you could feel the cold emanating from the glass, a stark contrast to the warmth of your body. Your fingers twitched against the surface, and without really thinking, you tapped them lightly, a soft, almost playful gesture. He hesitated for a moment, as if unsure how to respond, before his fingers mirrored yours, tapping back in a gentle rhythm.

A shiver ran down your spine as you watched his other hand trace over the heart you’d left. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks—he was tracing it because you’d left it there for him. You’d drawn that heart in the fog, almost without thinking, and now he was treating it like it meant something. 

And maybe, in some weird, twisted way, it did.

But this was just a show, you reminded yourself. Just a game. You were here to entertain, to give him what he wanted, and that was all. 

Another knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts. “I don’t hear any music!” the bouncer’s voice called out, a hint of impatience in his tone.

You blinked, realizing you’d been standing there in silence for too long. You glanced back at the glass, at the man whose hand still rested against yours, and for a moment, you considered pulling away. But something in his stillness, in the way he hadn’t tried to push things further, gave you pause. 

You tilted your head slightly, studying him, and he seemed to do the same. The symmetry of the gesture made your heart skip a beat. You were tiny compared to him, almost fragile, yet you felt a strange sense of power in that moment. You tapped your fingers again, and this time, he didn’t hesitate. He tapped back in sync, as if the two of you were communicating in a silent, shared language.

His fingers drifted over the heart again, and you found yourself wondering why he was treating it with such care. Why was he being so delicate, so gentle? This wasn’t what you were used to, not at all.

The bouncer knocked again, louder this time. “Music, now !”

You sighed, rolling your eyes at the interruption, but a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. The spell was broken, but you weren’t ready to let go just yet. With a final tap against the glass, you backed away, giving him a soft, almost coy look over your shoulder as you moved to restart the music.

--- You finished out the hour without much problem or anything like the glass touching that happened. Part of you felt a little dissappointed at that and you couldn't tell why. He was quiet throughout the rest of the time and left without a word. You wiped yourself down with a towel and threw on a lacy teddy before opening the secret door that was always locked on the clients side. That way you could collect the money after they left and get back behind the glass without anyone seeing you. He left it in the usual place, the table next to the red leather sofa and your heart almost stopped when counted out at least $5000 dollars.

'Five thousand dollars!!!'

Your mind immediately raced back to the live stream and you tried to calm yourself down. This had to be some sort of coicidence. No way this guy actually knew who you were. Then to make matters worse, he left his phone and wallet in the booth. You decided you had to find out for yourself. You let the bouncer know you were done before running back to the dressing rooms. You knew better than to hand over the stuff to the manager so you would have to find the guy himself. He may he bigger than you, but your shoes were stabbyier. You placed the items in a small purse you sometimes used to help your friends collect tips and stashed your money inside your locker inside your clothes like Marshmellow (Micheal) showed you. You made sure the locker was shut tight and tugged on it for good measure before you rushed back into the floor. You asked the doorman if anyone with large boots and spiky hair had left yet, who actually wasn't bad, and he assured you he that hadn't but that there was a client that came in with that description so he was probably still inside. You thanked him before taking a big gulp of air and making your way to the center floor. 

The center floor was alive with the buzz of chatter, laughter, and music, and the stages were crowded, but your focus was razor-sharp as you scanned the room. The lights were dim, casting long shadows that danced with the movement of bodies. It was payday, so the place was packed with regulars and new faces alike, all looking for a night of fun. But you were only interested in one man.

Your heart raced as you moved through the crowd, your eyes darting from face to face, searching for the telltale signs—spiky hair, broad shoulders, those heavy boots that echoed with each step. You felt a mix of nerves and adrenaline coursing through your veins, making your steps quick and purposeful. You didn’t even notice the usual stares or the catcalls; your mind was locked on the task at hand.

He left his phone and wallet. What kind of person leaves something so important behind, especially after dropping five thousand dollars without blinking? Maybe all rich dudes really are weird. The thought made your stomach twist. Was he testing you? Or maybe it was just an accident. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to this.

As you pushed through the crowd, you felt the small purse slung over your shoulder bump against your hip, the weight of it reminding you of what was inside. His belongings were in your hands, and that gave you a strange sense of nerves. He was bigger, stronger, sure, but you had something he needed. And that meant you had to find him. You clung to that thought, letting it bolster your confidence as you pressed forward.

You spotted Marshmallow—Micheal—across the room, chatting with a group of clients. She caught your eye and gave you a small, encouraging nod. She knew what you were up to, even without you having to say a word. That silent support made you feel a little braver as you approached the center floor.

The room was a blur of lights and movement, but then you saw him. He was near the bar, his back to you, broad shoulders hunched slightly as he leaned against the counter. His spiky hair was unmistakable, even in the dim light. The sight of him sent a jolt of adrenaline through you, and you had to force yourself to slow down, to keep your breathing steady. This was it.

You approached cautiously, your heels clicking against the polished floor. He didn’t seem to notice you at first, too absorbed in whatever thoughts were running through his head. You paused a few feet away, trying to decide how to play this. Should you tap him on the shoulder? Just hand over the stuff and be done with it? Or maybe you should say something more… calculated, something that would keep him intrigued.

Before you could make up your mind, he turned around, as if sensing your presence. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you felt frozen in place. Up close, he was even more imposing, his sharp features and intense gaze making your heart skip a beat. But you couldn’t back down now. You had a job to do.

“I think you forgot something,” you said, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. You held up the small purse, letting him see that you had his phone and wallet inside.

His eyes flicked to the purse and then back to you. There was a brief flash of something in his expression—surprise? Amusement?—before he reached out to take it. His fingers brushed against yours as he did, and you felt a small spark at the contact, a reminder of the strange connection you’d felt during your routine.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice gruff, but there was a hint of something softer beneath it. “I didn’t even realize.”

You shrugged, playing it cool. “It happens.”

He didn’t say anything else, so you just tucked the purse under your arm as he looked at you with an unreadable expression. The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words. You could feel your pulse in your throat, the tension from earlier starting to creep back in. 

“So, was it worth it?” you asked, tilting your head slightly as you tried to read him. “The hour, I mean.”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a smirk that was almost too confident for your liking. “More than worth it.”

The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, but you kept your expression neutral, not letting him see how his words affected you. You weren’t about to let him have the upper hand in this conversation.

“Well, if you’re ever in the mood to lose more of your money, you know where to find me,” you said, flashing him a playful smile.

He chuckled, a deep raspy sound that made your stomach flip. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

With that, you turned and started to walk away, leaving him standing there with a mix of emotions swirling inside. You yourself felt something. Relief, curiosity, and another visitor you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He watched you go, wondering if you’d see him again, and if you did, what that would mean?

And as much as you hated to admit it, a part of you was disappointed that the hour was over.

Maybe it was the intensity of the moment, the way your voice lingered in his mind, or the curiosity that gnawed at you. Before you could completely disappear into the crowd, you took a step forward, your voice catching him mid-stride.

“Wait.”

You stopped, his shoulders tensing slightly before you turned back to face him. He hadn’t planned this far ahead, and now that he had your attention again, he felt his pulse quicken. What were you going to say? You opened your mouth, but the words died on your lips as you found yourself staring directly into his eyes for the first time.

Time seemed to slow as your gazes locked. You felt like you were seeing him for the first time, really seeing him. His face was sharp, rugged, with a defined jawline and intense crimson eyes that seemed to bore straight into you. He had a look about him that was hard to pin down—confident yet guarded, like someone who didn’t let others in. You noticed the way his hair spiked out in unruly directions, a contrast to the disciplined aura he gave off. And then there was that small, almost imperceptible quirk of his lips, as if he wanted to speak but was struggling to.

For Bakugou, the world seemed to narrow down to just you. He hadn’t expected to turn around and see a face that felt so… familiar, yet completely new. Your eyes caught his first, and they were softer than he’d imagined, but there was a brightness in them that intrigued him. He noticed the way your hair framed your face, accentuating the delicate lines of your features. But what struck him most was the expression you wore—equal parts surprise and determination, as if you hadn’t planned on this moment but weren’t going to run from it either. There was something about you that pulled him in, a magnetism he hadn’t felt in a long time, and it made him forget for a moment where he was.

Neither of you said a word, but the silence between you was charged with something unspoken. You felt your breath catch as you realized he was doing the same thing you were—taking in every detail, committing it to memory. It was strange, surreal even, to see the man who had been on the other side of the glass, to see him so close. His intensity was almost overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but feel a shiver of anticipation, or maybe it was nerves, running down your spine.

You both seemed to realize at the same moment that you were staring, and you quickly averted your eyes, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks. He let out a small huff, not quite a laugh, but close enough, and it drew your gaze back to him. There was a look of curiosity in his eyes now, as if he was trying to figure you out, and maybe himself too.

“Well, goodnight.” 

“Yeah, G’night.”

You turned to head back to Micheal letting out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding in. As you walked, you couldn’t help but replay the encounter in your mind, trying to make sense of it. 

Later that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about that moment. You were sitting in front of the mirror, wiping off the remnants of your makeup, but your mind was elsewhere. His face, his eyes, the way he looked at you—it all replayed in your head like a loop you couldn’t turn off. You’d seen plenty of clients before, even locked eyes with a few, but this was different. There was something in the way he looked at you, a connection that felt almost tangible, and it left you feeling unsettled in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

You sighed, tossing the makeup wipe into the trash and leaning back in your chair. 'Why did he leave such an impression?' You tried to push the thoughts away, tried to focus on the money you’d made, the success of the night. You even participated in a dance number with the girls and finally had enough to get that new apartment! But his face kept creeping back into your thoughts, making you wonder if you’d see him again, and what it would mean if you did.

At the same time, Bakugou was sprawled out on his bed, one arm thrown over his eyes as he tried to sleep, but he knew it was impossible. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. Your face, the way you looked at him, the intensity of it—it was all too vivid. He’d gone to the club looking for a distraction, something to take his mind off the usual, but instead, he found himself thinking about you.

It pissed him off, if he was being honest.

He wasn’t supposed to see you yet. Looking all soft and cute with your little dress hugging you and a blush he couldn’t decipher from makeup or actual nerves. A moment like that, the memory of you stuck with him, lingering like an itch he couldn’t scratch. The way your eyes had widened slightly when you saw him, the way you hadn’t backed down, it made him wonder who you really were. You were just doing your job, a dancer, nothing more—so why the hell couldn’t he shake you off?

He shifted on the bed, letting out a frustrated breath. Maybe it was nothing, just a fluke, something that would fade by morning. But deep down, he wasn’t so sure. You’d made an impression, and it was going to take a lot more than a sleepless night to get you out of his head. 

But Katsuki knew himself better than that. 

Pulling out his phone, he opened that damned app again and sent you a message. 

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

Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, If you wanna be added lemme know.

That was the first chapter! So far there are 9 posted on my ao3 account.

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Farmer Bakugou x Gardener Reader here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[ravennaortiz]

Ravenna!!! Can we get a HC about our Daddies being Daddy doms??

Alright, this got long, I could not help myself! I went with a mix of the guys who I thought would be most likely to dabble with daddy kink. As always my stuff is 18+! NSFW below the cut

Juice- Under that goofy grin and sweet smile is a man who would love you to call him Daddy while your stroking his praise kink. "Your so good Daddy", You're the best Daddy, You're so good at that" will guarantee you have the time of your life. Whispering these in his ear during a crowded club party will guarantee you being quickly escorted to a darkened corner for a lesson. He loves making you cock warm him too and he gets off on finally having some one to give orders to. "Bed", "Knees", "Open wide", "warm me up".

Chibs- The silver fox himself has to be eased into the idea. He was already worried about the age gap as it was and now you are calling him Daddy in public? The mischievous look in your eye and the way your breath hitches as he grabs you jaw telling you to hush in the crowded store though has his jeans getting uncomfortably tight. You were only teasing when you told him maybe you deserved a spanking. Five minutes later he had you over his lap in the dressing room your ass red and already starting to bruise as you apologized. "Sorry daddy for being naughty".

Happy- The Tacoma Killer is not one to play with. He is not amused with your teasing or being a brat. The skills he uses to get info and make people disappear for the club? Yeah he has no problem turning those around on you. He prefers to hear "Yes Sir" over "Yes Daddy". He also has you trained with that damn ever present toothpick. Is it on the left side or right side? Is he chewing it or just letting it sit still? All these have different meanings and tell you how far you have left to push his buttons. Happy pushes the limit and has you craving the danger so much that you just can't help but flirt a little with the prospects when your not getting his attention.

Angel- Pretty Boy Reyes is the king of over stimulation and making you beg for "daddy to stop". He loved the control. So much so that any toys you have go with him or under lock and key when he has to be gone for long times. Because he will be dammed if you cum on anything besides daddy's cock, mouth or fingers, or when he isn't present. You though aren't exactly the best at taking orders or listening so more often than not you end up restrained and with a vibrator on your clit for hours begging and crying for him to stop as he sits in another room watching tv and casually changing the pace on the vibrator. He will just tell you to that you have to learn your lesson.

Coco- He loves hearing you call him daddy. At first he was worried and wierded out by it when you guys were out and about. But the feeling of pride and confidence it built in him had him quickly forgetting how he first felt. The way you guys operate its less punishments and more equal than some of the other guys. When he's buried between your thighs which is his favorite place he loves how easily daddy falls from your lips. Your hands gripping his hair. He's not above bending you over his knee though if you let your mouth get a bit ahead of you though....which you sometimes do just to get him to take you to bed a bit faster.

Gilly- The giant teddy bear of the mayans has a Jekyll and Hyde personality with his daddy side. In public he is gentle with his demands/orders. In private? His military side comes out and it sends a thrill through you. "Present to me, present her, daddy's inspection time" are some of his favorite phrases. Your are more than happy to follow his orders because you know he will leave you with a "present" every time.

Return to Headcanon page

[failing-to-write-again]

Imagine Shu at a club with you

Its sweaty and loud...but at least you're here

Throw back to June (oops) where I promised to do my part of the deal of writing a Boyfriend!Shu at a human party. Reiji's version will be written by @bubblespalacee (no rush at all on this btw take your time) and @fangsforiris replied saying they might join and if they do I cannot wait to read and repost it.

Warnings : alcohol, swearing, DL vampire-ness, mildly suggestive no actual acts just allusions to it

The party was loud you had to admit, the fact you were still here was shocking. Your friends were slowly spreading out at this point in the night, the birthday girl having taken her boyfriend to some private corner promising to message before she leaves. Although with how many vodka blacks she has had it is probably wiser to just keep an eye on the door.

Shu had taken a place at the bar nearby while you danced giving you time to catch up with them. That and the fact that he would likely rather die than dance in the dense mob in the club. That doesn't mean blue eyes weren't following your every move the second you weren't by his side, piercing through any would be flirts getting too close. Whiskey in hand, earphones hanging from his neck he broods as your dark prince was prone to when around large groups. Walking towards him those eyes that once were sharp, soften into a half lidded stare paired with his classic smirk. As you reach him, a hand rising as natural as breathing to rest on your hip pulling you closer.

"You know," you begin, cocking your head as your hand rests over his, "it might be more fun to dance with your girlfriend instead of just staring at her." He lets out an amused snort, shifting his weight to his other foot and pulling you closer.

"Why move when the view is pleasant? Unless you want to grind against me lewd woman." You lightly slap his arm in response, eliciting a proper laugh from the blonde. It didn't last long though, his hands taking to wandering instead. Running up and down your arms slowly. His pupils were wider than normal, the alcohol mixed with your presence intoxicating him. He drops his head to your shoulder, sighing as he places barely there kisses against your collar bone.

"It's so loud in here, why can't they all be quiet and let me enjoy watching you in piece."

"I don't think it would count as a club is people aren't being drunk and rowdy Shu, we can go to the smoking area outside if you'd like."

Shu straightens back to his full height, taking your hand in his and leading the way through the crowd towards the cold night air. As you step outside you shiver, the temperature change catching you off guard. Moments later you feel the jacket you had picked out for Shu drape around your shoulders. The patio was much more sparse compared to the sardine can that was indoors. Yet still busy enough that nobody paid the two of you any mind as you sat against the low wall lining the area. It was raining just past the covering awning, tinging the air with a crisp, fresh smell. A cold hand resting against yours, fingers entwined as you both continued drinking.

While not fully drunk, you were enjoying the slight haze around you. The haze that has you not fully remembering the point where drinking stopped and kissing began, but you were also lucid enough to know you weren't about to stop. Shu, normally more intentional and teasing with his kisses, was instead hungry, barely letting you back away for air chasing your lips with his. The fingers on his left hand teasing just under the fabric of your clothes, while his right tangles in your hair letting him kiss you deeper. Your arms around his neck, twisting into the tighter curls at the nape of his neck. Your neck and his both having little nips and marks that were sure to remain into the next few days, and some new bite marks joined your ongoing collection.

Shu's hands moving to push you back, shockingly onto something soft. You take a moment to look around, realizing you are back in the mansion laying on the soft white sheets of Shu's bed. Your shoes and his on the rack by the stairs leading to his door, and his jacket thrown against the sofa. Shu took this time to approach, un-clipping his mp3 player and letting it drop onto the end of the bed. One knee rising to sit beside yours, his forearm holding his body above yours.

"I think I deserve to have my fun now, seeing as you like to tease so much...lewd woman."

[ravenna-reid]

Whiskey, Sultry Tunes & Vigilantes

JASON TODD x JAZZ CLUB SINGER READER

Jason just needs to go to the most famous Jazz club in Gotham to gather intel then quickly leave, but a certain singer makes him stay longer than he anticipated... No warnings <3

I actually rlly like this one so pls lmk if you do too!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A magnetic violet blanketed the room from the lights that constantly streamed inside of the club, setting a soft, sensual mood. Guests sat before the stage, a few residing along the quiet bar. Subtle discussions and the clinks of scotch and wine glasses simmered in the air, along with the melancholic yet powerful tune that came from the band and their instruments. The sombre cello, the soulful piano, the triumphant trumpet.

And the famous Jazz singer of the club.

The Blue Room’s jewel. 

Sparkling diamonds hung from your ears and adorned your neck. Glistening eyeshadow, slick eyeliner and plump lips. A black silk dress hugged at your body and draped down to the floor, gloves the same colour running up above your elbows complimenting your dress. The wig you wore looked unbelievably real, the cherry red catching glints of the deep purple from the stage lights above as you sung the sultry tune. Men from across the city always came to watch you sing. Voice sweet like honey, smooth like whiskey, strong like thunder. All eyes were trained on you, and people either wanted to be you, or be with you. There was no inbetween.

Jason had merely heard the gossip about the Blue Room. About its perfect blues music and its reputation for the best served scotch and wine.

He’d also heard about the alluring singer that sang there almost every night.

But not being a fan of crowds or anywhere where parties were often thrown, he never went. Until tonight.

“And you’re sure Black Mask and Penguin are conspiring together in the private booths at this club?”

Dick had asked Jason earlier that week as they both went over their limited evidence on the case in the Batcave. 

“No, that’s why I’m going to go investigate.” Jason answered without looking up from the papers sprawled out in front of him. 

“It’d be a shame if it were true,” Dick sighed, “I love that place.”

“Of course you do.” Jason shook his head.

“Can I come?”

“No.”

Leaving the bustling alleyway behind as he entered the club, the atmosphere around him immediately shifted. The rhythm and blues that so often enveloped the club filled his senses instantly. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes, the LED lights that set the mood for the performance, the sound of the band…

And her. 

One gloved hand holding her microphone, the other gently stretching out to the crowd as she lulled them with her song. Her voice, her words, her eyes…

A softness painted her expression, mixed with subtle confidence and a magnifying aura. Elegance. Strength. Heartbreak.

So much emotion in just one song. So much emotion lacing her angelic voice. 

Jason was irrevocably drawn to you. 

The sudden sound of bellowing laughter from a table in front of him drew Jason back into reality. And he was soon reminded that he was there for work, not for entertainment. 

Blood rushing and heart racing – which was actually ridiculous – Jason ignored you and turned down the side of the bar to the more secluded part of the club. Round, mahogany tables that were much larger than the ones before the stage were occupied by couples. The music became more drowned out at that end of the club, more suitable for those who were wanting a romantic date night. Further down though, along the wall and past the bar sat the four private booths. Two were open; a lit bulb in the centre and purple velvet couches on display. But the other two had their curtains drawn.

As Jason crept towards one of the closed booths, his ears fought to listen to your voice. His legs fought to drag him back to the stage. His eyes fought to steal glances of you. Coming to a halt at the first booth, he ripped the curtain back. Two lovers, one on the other's lap, immediately look up at Jason, mortification frozen on their faces. 

“Sorry, wrong booth.” He quickly said before hastily drawing the curtain closed. His cheeks became a rose red as he moved to the next booth. 

Green eyes, so horrifically mesmerised, found their way back to you again as he searched for your figure through the crowd, his eyes following your voice. It was coming to the end of the song, and just as you were hitting the high note, a silence fell over the room as people listened. Giving a subtle shake of his head, he pulled himself back together.

“Come on, Jason.”

Jason was just about to draw the curtain to the second booth open when –

Ears straining to re-hear what he thought he heard, Jason let go of the curtain and looked to his side. Muffled yells could be heard. Past the bar and bathrooms down a dimly lit corridor. A man in an ivory tuxedo, obviously custom made, gripped at the collar of a man in black before him. The man he was grabbing looked fearful as he desperately tried to talk his way out of the situation. But the man in the tuxedo was past practical discussions. He wanted something. And he didn’t want to have to wait any longer. Cheeks a violent red and the hair he had left a dishevelled mess, he finally let go of the man. 

Thunderous applause caught Jason completely off guard as his focus shifted back to you. 

You gave a small, polite bow to the audience, and when you looked back up out into the crowd, your smile instantly gleamed brighter than the lights and jewels that surrounded you. You took the air from Jason’s lungs. 

The band members behind you nodded their heads in appreciation to the crowd. Whistles filled the air alongside the applause. Someone threw a daisy onto the stage. Jason scoffed.

Daisies aren’t nearly pretty enough for her.

Looking back down the corridor to see what the men were doing now, his heart sank when he found they were gone. 

“Shit.”

Ignoring his desire to look back at you one last time, worried you were finished for the night, Jason began down the corridor. Once he reached the end, there were two doors. One that he was sure led to the back of the building where the dumpsters and connecting alleyways sat. Another, however, looked like a small office. Thankfully, the door was slightly open. Jason peered through it to find the one who was just abused by the man in the tuxedo sitting at the desk, head in his hands. Stacks of paper were his only company, alongside framed pictures, certificates and awards for his business, posters of famous singers, and a shimmering gold plaque.

A plaque that read his name.

Jason took a mental note, but his eyes wandered as he wondered where the man in the ivory tuxedo went.

The man in black was sudden in his movement, sending a spike of anxiety through Jason’s chest. He quickly stood from his desk and went through another door in his office; a door that led to the dressing rooms. As Jason listened, he assumed the man was talking to and preparing the other singers that would soon take your place for the remainder of the night. Taking his chance, Jason quickly crept into his office and grabbed a few notes, envelopes, and folders from his desk. Slipping them into his jacket, he was gone in a blink of an eye as the man made his way back into the room. 

But performers were beginning to fill the back area, and Jason had to quickly leave. Walking back down where he came, he opened the back door and stepped outside.

The warm breeze instantly brushed through his raven black hair and against his skin. The dark, Gotham night sky stared down at him from above. Distant sounds of traffic filled the air. It was in no way better than the atmosphere inside of that club, but it was familiar. Comforting. 

Securing the documents he had obtained in the inner pockets of his jacket, Jason was ready to leave until something caught his eye. 

Silky gloved hands ran up and down your arms. Soft cherry red curls swayed against the skin of your back in the wind. 

Jason couldn’t believe it. It was you. It was actually you.

Your eyes were trained on the night sky above, searching for the stars that hid behind the clouds, and although Jason couldn't see your face, he could imagine the serene expression that was painted across it. 

What were you doing out here?

It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he got to see you one last time before he left. And suddenly all thoughts and questions centering around the man in black and the man in the ivory tuxedo vanished like mist.

He soon realised you hadn’t heard him come outside. He continued standing nimbly behind you. Fiddling with his fingers and feet rooted in the ground like trees. Heart beating faster than a hiccup. 

Say something. Say something. Say something. Say something.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone you know.”

Voice so soft, so gentle. You looked over your shoulder up at Jason, your eyes catching the light from the street lamp beside him.

Jason’s breath hitched.

Shit.

Part Two Soon

[madwomansapologist]

a private after party | park yeon-jin

Navigation | More Park Yeon-Jin | AO3

synopsis: It was just a party for award that Lee Sa-ra received. It was huge one, full of important people. But what really mattered was how you and Yeon-jin celebrated when no one was watching.

warnings: red flags? yeah, i've noticed them. smut. rough sex. degradation. praising. thigh riding. choking. s&m. masturbation. alcohol consumption. smoking. cheating (i'm so sorry ha do-yeong you deserve so much better my king). gn!reader is also part of the asshole club.

You both could've say it was an accident. A mistake. That after hours of feasting on whatever Lee Sa-ra mixed in your glasses stopped you both from thinking straight. That it meant nothing.

But that's not true.

It wasn't a mistake. Every second spend with Yeon-jin can't be a mistake. It wasn't the first time, or the second, nor the third. It wasn't a accident. No stupid party or expensive alcohol was responsible for anything.

The fault is on you for getting away from your friends and search for a empty room in that Gallery. The fault is on you for calling Yeon-jin — by dialing her number, because touching her contact would be too easy. The fault is on her for telling Ha Do-yeong to go home earlier, that she just wants to make sure her friends get home safe. The fault is on her for climbing three flights of stairs without once thinking about turning back and heading home instead.

But when Yeon-jin locked the door, the fault was on you both.

"Red wine?" Sitting in one of the armchairs, you smirked. "Are we celebrating?"

"Sa-ra just got awarded," leaning against the door, Yeon-jin held the bottle with both hands. She took a sip, straight from the bottle, and walked over to you. "Of course we are."

You reached out, but Yeon-jin pushed the bottle away from you. She took another sip, looking deep into your eyes, before giving in. After drinking a bit, you put bottle on the corner table. "That's a pretty dress you're wearing."

Yeon-jin rolled her eyes. "I'd look better naked."

"I know you do," you smiled, and once again Yeon-jin got reminded on why she loves you so much. The way your eyes darken when you have fun, your lips curling up when you smile, all your beautiful hair. You have kind words and behaves nicely, but you're just like her. "Still, all I can think about is Monica Lewinski."

Yeon Jin slid his knee against his thigh, and then rested his hands on the armchair behind his body. Her knee came up, pressing against your panties, and the evil smile finally appeared on her face. "You're already drunk, aren't you?"

"You never cared about this before. Neither did I," you licked your lips. You tugged at the hem of your red dress. "You're perfect, but you look even better when you wear my clothes."

Yeon-jin bent down until their noses brushed. You moved forward instinctively, but she decided to explore your neck. You smelled like wine, and tasted like something sweeter.

"He didn't even noticed," Yeon-jin laughed against your skin. "And he thinks he's so smart. So above anyone else."

"I could fuck you in front of him and he still wouldn't understand a thing," you could almost sense her pussy throbing. Yeon-jin has a weak point for talking shit about her husband. "Maybe I should try next time he invites me to dinner with you both. Show him how you need to be treated."

Her eyes got darker. "And how's that?" You don't know how she does that, but she does. And often.

Your fingers tightened around her waist, forcing her to sit on your lap. You grabbed her chin, nails piercing the soft skin. Yeon-jin didn't even realize she rolled her hips against your thights. It was instinctive.

"Like a needy bitch."

Your hand went up to her neck, and you held it tightly. Her gasp vibrated up your arm. "Aren't you even going to pretend I'm wrong?" You squeezed her waist. "Won't you at least pretend not to be my little bitch?"

Yeon Jin shut you up with a kiss. She threw herself against you, her fingers pulling your hair in an attempt to bring you even closer to her, and melted against your body.

You forced her waist down, feeling how soaked the fabric of her panties already was. She leaned on your shoulders, sliding against you. Yeon-jin lifted her dress, exposing her black lingerie.

Yeon-jin has never been the type to ask for what she wants. She just takes it.

You squeezed her body, your fingers marking her ever so sensitive skin. Part of you wanted to really mark her. Sucking her neck, spanking her ass hard, scratching her back. You wanted to mark her as yours, expose to Ha Do-yeong how you managed to take from him the only thing that really mattered. How Yeon-jin was never his, always yours.

"You look so pretty underneath me," Yeon-jin moaned.

But you wouldn't do this to her.

Yeon-jin unzipped your pants, rubbing her fingers against you. With her touching you like that, looking at you like that, you couldn't help but feel complete.

But feel owned.

Yeon Jin drank more of the wine, and put the bottle in his mouth. Wine ran down your chin, dripped onto your clothes, but you didn't care. How could you?

You pulled her by her hair, bringing Yeon Jin's mouth to yours. You kissed her, making her drink the wine in your mouth, and moaned when Yeon-jin's hand became rougher. Less delicate. Just the way she knows you love it.

You're the only one that can make her head get empty. Bringing pleasure to Yeon-jin until that's all she is. A squirming little thing that only cares about having more of you. No one could replace you.

She's the only one that can make you desperate. That can turn you into something simple: into something needy. Someone that craves for her and only her. No one could make you forget her.

Open mouth, empty mind. Yeon-jin melting against your thigh, you breaking apart in her hand. Close eyes, full heart. No other drug can bring you both to ecstasy so easily.

"You're my favorite toy," Yeon-jin whimpered. A needy bitch. Your needy bitch. "My pretty, beautiful doll. You're the only one for me. You know that."

The mark of your nails on her throat were a proof of that. The stained dress on her body were a proof of that. The soaked pantie covering her used cunt were a proof of that. Yeon-jin calling your name at night, sleeping beside her husband, were a proof of that.

You took the bottle from her hand, taking a large sip. Darken eyes, curled up lips, your beautiful hair. Yeon-jin already knew what you would say, even before you opened your mouth. "I know that."

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; angel dust

requested by ; sweatpants anon (16/02/24)

fandom(s) ; hazbin hotel

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; angel dust

outline ; “Angel Dust relationship headcanons!

-Sweatpants Anon”

note ; reader is assumed as being masc aligned because angel dust is canonically gay ^^

warning(s) ; some canon typical angsty topics are touched upon, but mostly fluff!

because of just how long he’s spent under valentino’s control and directly in the public eye, it takes a long time and a whole lot of patience to be able to even begin to convince angel that your interest in him is because of more than just his body — and even then he’ll still have his moments of self doubt, regression, and self isolation throughout your time together (though, thankfully, those do become less and less frequent as time goes on and your relationship becomes more solid and serious)

angel dust is by no means afraid of a little pda and loves showing you off whenever and wherever the opportunity arises — be that through more innocent displays like holding hands or pecking you on the lips/cheek, or through something a bit raunchier like explicitly flirting with you or making out with you at whatever bar or club you happen to be in ar the time — but that doesn’t mean he’s not cautious about keeping you and your relationship away from the prying eyes of his boss or anyone who might clue valentino into angel’s private life

he’s happy to be called any and all pet names that you can think of, the cuter the better in his eyes, and for his part he tends to use a mix of more traditional and complimentary terms of endearment for you, alternating between them depending on how much he wants to tease you in the moment — going from calling you ‘babe’ after thanking you for fetching him a drink when he’s too lazy to get up himself, to whining and calling you ‘baby’ when he feels like you’re ignoring him, to jokingly patting you on the backside to make you yelp and calling you something like ‘hot stuff’ or ‘daddy’ just to see you get all flustered

if you wear clothes that are the same size as him (or, even better, a size or a few bigger than him) then you can pretty much guarantee that angel dust will start raiding your closet and wearing your jumpers/shirts/jackets on his days off — and while he does occasionally do it to show off your relationship or to tease you about how good he looks in your clothes, it’s also a comfort thing for him and it helps him stay calm or get to sleep when you’re away from your shared room for one reason or another

dates with angel dust happen about as frequently as his schedule allows — i.e. if neither of you have commitments elsewhere, you’re gonna be spending time together in one way or another (even if it just means staying in bed with fat nuggets in your comfiest pyjamas watching whatever new show you’ve both gotten into lately)

angel dust has a distinct jealous streak that can cause him to act in one of two ways depending on his mood: if he’s in a more comfortable and confident spot in your relationship then he’ll just saunter over to you both and make it abundantly clear that you belong to him and he’s not in the business of sharing, but if he’s in a really bad spot mentally or very intoxicated then he’s much more likely to actually lash out at the person — storming over, grabbing you by the arm and threatening their life before you have to drag him somewhere private to help him calm down and not cause a scene (read: do something that would get him in trouble with either vaggie or his boss depending on who the offending party is)

he’s forever texting you, even when you’re both in the same room, and his messages can be anything from out of context photos (of him, of you, of someone he’s with, or just a post he’s seen on social media that reminded him of you), to random bits of gossip, to reminders of when he’s going to be home (or him asking you when you’ll be home when you’re out and about), to the occasional ‘love you’ or flirtatious message when he’s feeling a bit sentimental — bonus bits: your contact name in his phone is ‘baby’ followed by an ungodly amount of heart emojis, and your contact photo is a picture of the two of you both mid-laugh that he took during one of your many late nights spent in his room at the hotel

his home screen and lock screen on his phone are also silly photos of the two of you — one being from when you visited him during one of his drag shows and another being of the two of you intentionally pulling stupid faces just to make the other laugh (he can’t remember when it was taken all he knows is that it’s one of his favourite pictures and it makes him smile whenever he unlocks his phone)

angel dust is also incredibly protective over you and he isn’t above attacking anyone who tries to cause you harm (or that has succeeded at harming you in the past) — he was part of a gang in life and, rest assured, he’s more than happy to make use of the skills he gained throughout his mortal life to keep you safe (or even just to gain your approval if you have a habit of praising him for being an excellent shot)

while he’s definitely appreciative of words of affirmation as a love language, angel dust mainly resonates with the idea of quality time — being able to be with you as himself without the expectation of acting like something he’s not, or even having to do anything at all, is incredibly important to him and allows him to become more comfortable with being his real self (being ‘anthony’ instead of ‘angel dust’) around you

that’s not to say that he’s not a fan of ‘acts of service’ and ‘gift giving’ if those are your defaults — spoil him rotten, take him on a shopping spree, pamper him after a long day of work, learn how to cook his favourite meals, etc. — and he’ll definitely make it clear just how much he appreciates being taken care of by you, but it just so happens that quality time is the love language that resonates with him the most (beyond physical affection, but that’s just his default with everyone and doesn’t feel as personal to him as spending time together)

he refers to you collectively as fat nuggets’ parents (or ‘daddies’ if you’re comfortable with the term) and will jokingly scold you for neglecting him and your ‘son’ whenever you’re too bus with work or something else to lounge in bed with them

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Drabble-A-Thon Prompt #8

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Mature

Prompt: Freestyle!

Contents: Sex worker/professional sub!Dabi, Non-villains AU (yes quirks), Toga is 18, strippers, mentioned orgies, anal plug.

“Happy birthday!” Tomura nearly jumps out of his skin when he opens the door to his apartment a little after six, having fully planned to just crash and then see if anyone wanted to do something tomorrow. But of course one of them had snooped. He would put good money on it being Toga. 

“Get out of my house.” He says flatly as he enters, having to bat a balloon out of his face as he tries to hang up his coat. He has a lavish penthouse apartment, a good job at his adoptive father’s company, and good friends. But they are definitely pushing their luck coming into his space unannounced, and are lucky he’s wearing his gloves and none of them had been too close to the door when he opened it, because otherwise the chances of this having ended in bloodshed were nonzero. Toga and Magne are definitely responsible for having decorated the entire apartment in gray, black, and red balloons and streamers, a black table cloth thrown over his island with food and drink set out on red trays and cups. There is a small pile of presents wrapped on the coffee table in the living room, and his friends are dressed for a party. He finds Spinner, who is half hiding behind Magne. “This is not why I gave you a spare key.” 

“Which is why we didn’t use it to break in.” Atsuhiro tells him haughtily. 

“Your bedroom is fucking scary, Shig.” 

He lets out a long, low sigh. “Who else did you invite?” 

“Everyone in your black book that wasn’t crossed out.” Magne tells him. “Who’s ‘Firefly’? They didn’t answer the phone when we called and texted us instead with rates. Stripper?” 

“Sure.” He says, perking up a little. “Is he coming?” 

“Yeah, consider that your present from me,” Jin tells him, “Cause he was not cheap.” 

“Worth every penny.” Tomura tells them. He is used to throwing some pretty lavish, pretty risque parties at his place. But so far he’s kept those things separate from what he gets up to with his friends. It’s going to be a hell of a time making this shit work, but he’ll figure it out. He always does.

///

They have a couple of hours before other people arrive, and Tomura posts the rules for the engagement tonight. This is a mixing and mingling party, not an open floor. Papers won’t be checked at the door, nothing under the clothes, but there will be entertainers present. He hires a couple of actual strippers he knows he can get on short notice, and also sends Jin and Magne out to get a dozen more bottles of assorted alcohol. He has a reputation to uphold. Before they go, he puts their presents for him in his closet, thanking them for the thought, but telling them tomorrow he’d rather just have them over to unwrap them and then maybe order pizza and watch a movie or something. He makes sure that he’s got his bedroom in order, that there’s enough food ready and out, orders some last-minute catering to cover everything else, and then, when all of his friends are back, he sits them down and preps them. 

“My other associates are into the same styles of play that I am. There won’t be any play going on here tonight, but if at any point someone makes you uncomfortable or they cross a boundary, just tell them politely that you aren’t interested and they should back off. If they don’t, tell me and I’ll have them escorted out.” He turns his attention to Toga and Spinner, “Have either of you ever been to a strip club before?” 

“Yes!” 

“... No.” 

“General rule is no touching, but you can always ask. If you get over-excited, take a second to calm down. The dancers are here as entertainers, but they do work for tips, and different ones will have different rates, so just ask if you want to know, and as long as you're polite, you can turn down anything they offer. The two guest rooms are going to be for private dances, and if any of you spot anyone trying to get into my bedroom who’s not me or accompanied by me, stop them and get my attention.” 

“You seriously do throw orgies in here?” Magne asks. 

“Sometimes.” He prefers to just rent out the nearest club when he wants to host things like this, but he’s had people in his apartment for it before. 

“Ew. I’m never sitting on your couch again.” 

“I have a cleaning service I use to make sure everything is sterilized afterwards.” He says, taking his hair down, removing his tie, and unbuttoning the top few buttons on his shirt. “Besides, if you’re going to object to touching anything where someone has had sex in my apartment, you’re going to have to stand outside the door and shout into the room.” 

“Gross.” 

“You’re the ones who wanted my two worlds to collide.” They brought this on themselves. He gives a survey of the apartment, making sure that everything is good to go. “I have a list of cab companies that pick up after three for anyone too plastered to get home themselves, so when things start to wind down, let people know those are available.” 

He makes sure his friends are all good, and he readies himself for the party.

///

By ten o’clock, things are in full swing. Alcohol is flowing, music is pumping throughout his apartment, there are people mingling and dancing, the entertainers are doing their own thing, and everyone seems to be having a good time. Spinner is being a bit of a wallflower, but Magne bullies him into getting a lapdance and keeps guiding him around the room and pouring him drinks to keep him from clamming up entirely. But he hasn’t seen–

A too hot body presses along his back, the thickness of the straps of the leather harness crossing over his skin enough for Tomura to feel even through his clothes. He smells the distinct whiff of smoke, both from cigarettes and his quirk, and relaxes a bit as Dabi’s lips move against the shell of his ear. 

“I charge extra for parties.” 

“I know, firefly.” He says, turning to face the other man. The others must have told him that it was his birthday, because Dabi is looking mouthwateringly good in a strappy red leather harness with a tiny red thong, a bow sitting at the front of the waistband, and another pretty satin ribbon tied delicately around his neck. “They thought you were a stripper.” 

Dabi snorts, and loops his arms around his neck, pressing their bodies together from shoulders to hips. His mouth moves to Tomura’s jaw and he allows it, wrapping his hands around his slender waist and reveling in the heat against his skin. “Does that mean we can pretend to slip away for a private dance?” 

“Mm,” he definitely wants to treat himself to a full evening with Dabi, “I want you to wait, kitten.” Dabi immediately perks up when he hears what he wants from him. It’s no wonder he can charge what he does when he’s always the perfect sub no matter what the play is. “We’re going to have a private party once everyone else has left. How many drinks have you had, precious?” 

“None, Sir. You haven’t given me permission to drink yet.” He says immediately. 

“Good boy.” He loves how just that is enough to make Dabi’s eyes glaze a little, a shiver of his pleasure going through him. He used to think that Dabi was just a good actor, but it’s abundantly clear now that he just does like the things that they do together. “You can have two for the rest of the night, now go entertain, but no private dances, no lap dances for anyone else. I’ll pay the difference, but I need you to fill the role they hired you for.” 

“Yes, Sir.” But Dabi waits, and it really does feel like an indulgence when Tomura leans down to give him a kiss. He keeps it soft and chaste, a far cry from the low-level debauchery that is filling the space around them. But the restraint, knowing that they won’t be able to have anything else for hours yet, makes it have a current of heat in it that has nothing to do with Dabi’s quirk. 

“Go show off, kitten. I know how much you like the attention.” He gives him one last kiss against his temple, and then lets Dabi saunter off back into the crowd. 

Seeing that he’s wearing a g-string that does nothing to cover up the fact he’s wearing the glass rose plug he’d bought him a few months ago only makes Tomura want to kick everyone out immediately so he can enjoy him. But he holds off. The anticipation will make it even sweeter.

Dabi’s been staying the night more and more now. Maybe he’ll ask him if he wants to stay and meet his friends properly. Maybe he’ll say yes. Maybe when the cake comes out and Dabi uses his quirk to light the candles and he’s told to make a wish in front of everyone gathered, he wishes, looking over the blue flames into even bluer eyes, that this could be something real. Maybe the fact that Dabi brought him a present of custom red leather gloves that he gives to him after everyone else is gone means that it might come true. 

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