#i need to watch dancer in the dark

[looking-to-rattle-the-stars]

mmm thinking about how i feel a little bit like howl when i take my girlfriends hand sometimes lol i’ve noticed i will often walk behind her and grab one of her hands and then adjust to be at her side keeping my other hand on her shoulder! and often if we are walking and holding hands and either enter a place or are walking up/down something i tend to raise her hand up lightly so that she may lead and/or break apart if need be,, wonderful pretty girlfriend…

[seungfl0wer]

*Backstage*

Pairing: Bangchan x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Unprotected sex, Cream pie, Basically public, Slight biting, Scratches, dirty talk (Ofc), I think that’s all?

From this request ❤️‍🔥

-🩵

The concert has started, watching from the side as your boyfriend and the rest of the members perform. They were such great performers and it never got old watching them. So much passion and drive for what they do. As their solo stages started they said their hi’s as they passed you all full of so much energy.

They were performing new songs that fans have never heard and Chan kept his a secret telling you he wanted your live reaction to it. As Chan passed you to go on stage he kissed your cheek quickly smiling as he walked away yelling to you “enjoy the show baby” he winked.

You watched Chan with wide eyes, the song was hot. The way his voice sounded the visuals- oh god him. Your eyes widen even more as you watch your man basically putting on a strip show. He had fake scratches all over his toned body. As you watched him taking it all in you couldn’t help but feel turned on.

It’s not the first time you’ve seen him naked. Of course not, this man lives in nothing but his birthday suit. However this was- this was just hot. You rubbed your legs together subconsciously as you watched him, wetness flooding your panties.

You watched as he fell backwards into the dancers arms, he made a quick b-line towards you grabbing your hand pulling you with him. He pulled you to a small almost closet like room waisting no time in kissing you. His hands wondered your body pulling you into him as he deepened the kiss. When he finally pulled away he looked down at you with a smirk.

“There’s 4 more solo stages before I have to go back, I need you y/n. I need you.. badly” he breathed out before crashing his lips back to yours. His hands pulled up at your shirt caressing your breast as he played with your nipples. Pinching them slightly as he rubbed his crotch against your leg. The adrenaline from being on stage and knowing you were watching him had him already so hard.

The friction from his movement made him let out a desperate moan against your lips. He pulled away placing kisses along your jaw to your neck where he quickly started to suck softly. He ran his hand down your body unbuttoning your pants as he slid his fingers so delicately across your clit. He let out a small whimper making him smirk a bit.

“I think we should try and be quiet” he teased as if he wasn’t the one who made the first noise. He nipped at the skin of your neck before he pushed his fingers into you. You let out a soft moan before you smacked your hand over your mouth trying to muffle the noise. He worked his hand, fingers curling in you hitting all your weak spots. His eyes were dark full of lust as all he wanted to do was devour you.

“God y/n I can’t take it anymore need you.” He said pulling his hand back swiftly pushing your pants down as he did the same to himself. His hard cock smacked against this abs, fuck he’s so damn hot.

He positioned you, your legs wrapping around his waist his hands holding you tightly as he aligned himself. He looked up at you as he pushed himself into your wet cunt bottoming out right away. You could see the soft imprint of his cock in your stomach.

“Uh- fucking hell princess- I can tell you right now- I will not last-“ his words sounded like croaks, breaking as they came out. He made a medium pace hitting you deep, his cock gliding in and out of you. “Did you like my stage beautiful?” He asked.

You nod “mhm you did so well” you said back. He loved when you praised him like that. He rolled his hips quickly hitting your g-spot perfectly. You moaned loudly at the feeling head resting against the wall.

“You want everyone to hear how good I’m fucking you?” Chan teased a bit as he brought his fingers down to play with your clit. You let out a high pitched moan at the feeling. The whole situation to you was so hot, everything about this was just fucking hot.

Chans pace picked up after hearing you moan knowing you were close already. He leaned down to bite at your neck as he worked at your clit mercilessly. You dug your nails into his back as he pounded sloppily into you. “Ah- sh-shit yeah, fuck dig your nails into me, make real scratches on my back beautiful fuck-“ he rambled out.

Between his movements, his hand toying with your clit and his words your high was about to crash over you. Chan could feel your walls clench around him making him groan “gonna cum on my cock baby? Hmm gonna make a mess before I go back on stage?”

“Chris! Fuck cu-cuming!” You almost scream out hoping the sound of the crowd would drown anything out. Chan threw his head back at the feeling of you, his high rushing over him fast as he pumped deep into you dumping all his cum deep into you.

“Shit y/n- that was- fucking hot” he panted out trying to catch his breath. You laugh a little “yeah” you say softly as you try catching your breath as well. Chan kissed you softly letting you down but holding you so you don’t stumble.

You both get dressed fixing yourselves before leaving the small room. Chan watched as the last solo stage was almost done. “Channie” you say sweetly. He turns his head with a loving smile “round 2 when we get to the hotel?” You say with a smirk. He just laughs kissing your cheek “round 2 maybe 3” he says before grabbing a mic to head back to the stage. Leaving you there to watch him again.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16

[pixie-felix]

a/n: inspired by @hyunjinx42 (specifically this), suggested by @arestoucries

-as you sink down on his c*ck after a long day of work- @hyunjinx42

Just a short little something something to try break feed the absolute chokehold Railway Chan has us all in. Inspired by @hyunjinx42, suggested by @arestoucries. As always, smut under the cut, minors dni.

Content warnings: breeding kink, daddy kink, size kink, ancient vine references (just the one, let me know if you found, I made myself laugh and then I couldn't take it out).

I accidentally posted this earlier today when I was still working on the draft 🤣 this is the complete version, so if you were disappointed earlier hopefully this will make up for it

T a k e a S e a t

You know exactly what Chan wants when he sits down in that chair. 

Tie loosened, hair mussed, eyes dark as he looks you over like a cat eyeing the most delicious bowl of cream.

“So, you were watching me all day.” 

“Of course I was watching you. It was your MV shoot.” You keep your voice light, but the intensity of his gaze is making you tingle all over. Not to mention the hint of the devil in his smile, quirking the corner of his mouth.

“Well, I was watching you too. Come here.” He beckons you over, that familiar come hither motion of his fingers sending a strong jolt of arousal to your belly and your mind straight into the gutter. 

It might just be because he's been playing a vampire all day but you feel powerless to resist him. Walking towards him, and that chair, like a woman hypnotised.

That devil's smirk spreads as you move into arms reach, shivering as he reaches out a hand to stroke your leg. Just the inch of bare skin, above your knee and below your skirt.

“Did you choose this outfit just for me, sweetheart?”

This outfit being a not-quite-knee-length pleated skirt, a silk shirt buttoned up to the neck, and what the fashion magazines might describe as a smart casual blazer. It's giving “slutty schoolgirl meets business casual.”

Had you chosen this outfit especially for Chan, knowing about his purity kink and the fact you'd be in his eye line but just-out-of-reach all day?

You bet Chan's sweet ass you did. 

And he knows it too, knows it in the way you shiver as he lightly runs those fingers, a barely there feather touch, up your leg. Under your skirt. Slowly, closer and closer to where all that want is bubbling in your gut.

“I thought so. Such a tease.” Under that playful tone there's something low, something dark. Something that makes itself known when scrapes his nails back down your thigh, not quite hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough that you know if you were to look there’ll be five red lines marking your flesh. Dragging his fingers away from where you want them, where you need them, taunting you with a smile that tells you he knows how your cunt is clenching over nothing.

“I wasn’t the only one watching you though, was I?” Marking. He’s fucking marking you. 

“Channie…” 

“That’s not my name.” 

“...Chris?”

“Not today sweetheart.”

Oh. Oh. 

Oh boy.

“...Daddy?”

“Good girl.” His voice is all low and growly, and he tugs you forward by your knees until you’re standing astride his lap and hands are running up the backs of your thighs again, alternately stroking and scratching as he smiles up at you. 

“Do you even know what you do to me? What it’s like having to pretend you’re not mine. Having to watch guys like that following you all day, flirting with you, eyefucking you, and not being able to do a damn thing about it?”

Ah, so that’s what this is about. Chan is jealous. You were training the director's new PA today, some guy who’s name you’ve already forgotten. And Chan is jealous. 

As if he isn’t the most gorgeous man on the planet, a professional wet dream, and your long term boyfriend who’s been dicking you down dumb for the last 4 years. 

And if he wants to talk about unfairness, let’s talk about work. Watching him film that scene today, in this very chair, where an orgy of dancers were writhing on him. In fucking handcuffs. And he was sitting there with that look on his face. Yes yes, work is work, and acting is acting, the hazards of dating an idol etc etc…

But watching your man sit with a crowd of strangers slithering on his lap, that special expression on his face you only see when you’re sinking down on his cock after a long day of work, in that goddamn chair…

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” The question is innocent, the look in Chris’ eyes is not. He's completely Chris now, all signs of sweet Chan gone, replaced by the hungry, almost feral creature that likes it when you call him daddy. “Are you thinking about all those dancers from earlier, sitting on me, touching on me…”

“Yes, Daddy…” you whisper, blush creeping across your ears. It's like he's staring right into your soul, reading your thoughts and revelling in how you put up no resistance. He can invade all your private places and you let him, you're an open book to him

“Did it drive you crazy?” His voice is a low whisper, heavy with lust and wanting. “Did you want to come and sit on my lap instead, come and claim what's yours?"

You're too turned out to speak, your voice a whimper rather than words. “Daddy… don't tease…”

He smiles slowly at you, reaching up your skirt and slowly dragging your panties down your thighs.

“Then come warm this cock my love. Daddy's been waiting all day.”

It's almost musical, the sound Chris makes as you sink down on his dick, somewhere delicious between a moan and a grunt. It's almost too much, the way he stretches you. You cling to his shoulders and hide your face in his neck as you whine, nipping at his neck as you desperately try to ground yourself.

“Mmm… so good…” Chris has his hands on your hips, guiding you until you're settled on his thighs, his cock fully sheathed inside you. “Such a good girl. So perfect for me.”

He's almost too big to fit, your pussy stuffed fuller than full, at it's absolute limit. Teetering on the cusp of what feels good and what doesn't.

He's mercifully gentle, running his hands up your back, stroking your skin in slow, soothing circles.

“You're doing so good, baby. Just relax, relax for me baby.” He hisses when you lean a little more forward, mewling into his neck into his neck and holding him tighter as the change in angle causes your pussy to spasm and stretch, barely able to bear it.

“I want.. I…”

“What do you want, babygirl?” Concern creeps into his turn, worried that maybe his dick is too big, maybe you’re not enjoying it. “Am I hurting you? We can stop if it's too much.” He presses kisses into your hair, brushing some out of your face as he tries to look you in the eyes.

“No Daddy… please don't stop. You feel… so good…” Chris sighs in relief, stroking your face tenderly. “Will you… will you…”

“Yeah, baby? What do you need?”

“I can't… I want…” You shake your hips lightly, barely moving but Chris' dick is stretching you so full it feels as intense as if he was pounding you out, hips snapping as he tried to fuck you through the mattress.

Chris makes a strangled sound, the drag of your velvety walls almost driving him to madness.

“What do you need, babygirl.” His voice is hoarse with the effort of holding still. “Just tell me. Tell me baby, please, you're driving me mad…”

“Daddy,” your voice is almost a sob, “Daddy, please… It feels so good. You feel so good, inside me…” Chris has to bite his lip to keep from swearing at how good you're making him feel. He loves is when you talk dirty.

“Baby, if you keep saying things like that…”

“Breed me, Daddy. Please. Please.” Chris presses a shaky, kiss to your lips, gentle and tender, trying to distract himself from how every single muscle in his body tenses up and he's pretty sure his balls just turned blue.

“You sure…” He has to be sure, has to check, before the last strip of his sanity is stripped away and he loses control.

“Please Daddy. Breed me. Claim me. Make me yours… please.”

“Okay baby, okay.” He starts moving, gently, rolling his hips slowly, tantalisingly, doing his best not to go too fast or too quickly. “Daddy’s gonna breed you, okay? You're so tight baby…”

He's not sure what's gonna explode first, his heart or his testicles.

It doesn't take long, every tiny thrust driving both of you closer to the edge,Chris closing his eyes and urgently trying to think of something unsexy. Socks with sandals. Being called “Bang Channie”.

That one weird nude Han accidentally sent him at Christmas. What the hell was he doing with all that BBQ sauce on his titties?

But not even deep philosophical musings on the strange behaviour of Han Jisung can distract Chris from how you've started to bounce on him, your pussy finally adjusted to his cock enough that you can ride him a little, thighs tight around his waist.

He almost loses it, when the little gasps and moans spilling from you get so loud he has to muffle them with his hand. No badly how much he wants everyone to hear how good he fucks you, you're still supposed to be keeping this a secret… Definitely not fucking on stage props quickly relocated to a nearby dressing room. Thank fuck the door locks.

But then you bite his hand, losing control of your sanity and bouncing on his dick like a rabbit, whining, so close to cumming but you just can't quite reach it by yourself.

The sting of your teeth on his fingers pushes Chris over, all restraint gone, hands snapping to your hips as he bucks up into you, holding you still so he can pound your pussy.

He feels you coming undone on him, your pussy spasming, clenching, sucking his dick in deeper until he could swear he's pressing against your cervix.

It's not until you collapse in his arms, shaking, trembling, that he finally gives in and lets himself cum. And he cums hard, the aftershocks of your orgasm making your pussy twitch, milking his cock until he's got nothing left to give.

Balls empty, dick aching, cocksore and thighs shaking, Chris holds you close, his seed dribbling out as his cock starts to soften inside you. You both moan when it finally slips out completely, clinging to each other tightly as you both come down from your respective highs.

“I think… I think we might have ruined the chair, Channie.” You giggle as you look up at him, all blissed out and happy.

“Oops.” He shrugs, before leaning forward and brushing your noses together in an Eskimo kiss. “I guess we'll just have to smuggle it home.”

You rest your head on his chest, happy and sated. Eevelling and how quickly Chris can switch back to Channie, all cosy and cuddly and sweet.

“So…”

“So?” Chan is already starting to look sleepy, all fucked out and giddy. He tilts his head at you like a curious puppy, like he didn't just fuck you into th fifth dimension.

“...are you still gonna try tell me the song is about trains?"

Chan blinks, and you can see the cogs in mind turning as he tries to figure out what trains have to do with anything that just happened.

He flushes bright red when the penny drops, eyes going wide, mouth opening and closing as he tries to think of a good comeback. In the end he just hides his face in your neck and mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like a whiney “shut up”.

You laugh and snuggle down in his arms. He groans, knowing you're gonna tease him about trains once the post orgasm contentment passes.

That's what he gets for being a liar.

Okay, I'm just about happy with this one. This isn't even the No Thoughts/Hard Thoughts fic, but apparently I have breeding kinks on the brain. Oops. Hope you guys don't mind two in a row. In other news, Channie’s big dick problem is the subject of another fic. Yay size kink? Anyways, thanks for reading, reblogs and comments are so much appreciated and motivating and stuff, let's enjoy this highly educational science gif of Channie to end the post:

tagslist: @sthaay @arestoucries , @chrizzztopherbang, @avnche, @kemkem33, @mikaelless, @lvrgrl-xo, @eevenus , @furioussheepluminary , @sheerfreesia007 , @aasthamoon , @amazinglystay @delulustardust (I got my lists mixed up, I only post skz fics on this account so lemme know if you want me to take you off)

m.list

[lunaa007]

Astrology observations #3

These are my personal observations and should be taken in the context of the whole chart, never isolated 😊

Some of this is 18+, no minors allowed

♦️Mars-Uranus aspects can indicate a liking for risky activities and extreme sports, like motorcycling or base jumping. They can even like to put themselves in danger as they need the adrenaline. Routine is super boring for them, they need to try new things very often. They should be careful to release this nervous energy with sports, work they're passionate about or things like that or it can backfire. This aspect can be tempered down with Saturn aspects or a lot of earth energy in the chart.

♦️Venus square mars aspect: can often be mean to the person they like, classic "if he pulled your hair it's because he likes you" stuff. Can be very passionate, might have difficulty to separate feelings from lust. They might have talent for artistic sports like dancing or ice skating. For women, they might like a more sporty fashion style.

♦️Sun-saturn aspects: especially for harsh ones, this can really change the expression of the sun sign. I know someone with sun and several planets in Leo, but they are all square to Saturn and you could never tell she's a Leo; she is very reserved, shy and restrained in life. But as with all Saturn aspects this can change with age, the personality coming through more and more while keeping an amazing sense of discipline, wisdom and grounding.

♦️Moon-uranus aspects: with harsh aspects (conjunction, square, opposition), the mother might have been emotionally cold during the childhood, and she might have been a bit erratic and unpredictable. This could have showed up as frequently moving places, or having a mother considered weird or crazy by society. With soft aspects like trine or sextile this could show up as an untraditional family, maybe having two fathers or two mothers, or parents very into technology, but this was not hard on the person and it helped them develop their individuality and independence.

♦️Taurus mercury: these people can learn much slower than other people (this does not mean they are not as intelligent, their rhythm is just different). At school they might have felt behind their schoolmates or felt like they didn't have enough time to finish their exams/homework. It is important that they don't feel bad about this and take the time they need to do their work. This might be less strong with Uranus influence on mercury. ♦️ Aquarius moon natals and their need to always read and watch self-development content without ever actually feeling their feelings 🙃

♦️ Venus conjunct moon: these people are so kind, they have such a big heart and do not wish harm on anyone, please stay mindful of who has access to you as many people might want to be in contact with this energy but sometimes also energy vampires.

♦️ Mercury conjunct/square pluto and their dark humor! I have this in my chart and one of my colleagues actually said to me three days after she started: "your jokes can be really dark sometimes" 😂 it gets worse when I'm tired as I don't filter my jokes so much before saying them. These aspects might also think a lot about death and dark themes, they can be the type to think "what happens if I die tomorrow", or "I could die if I do this" but not in a worried way, just thinking rationally about what is possible.

♦️ Leo mars women and their secret backup plan of becoming a stripper or an exotic dancer 💃 these women often have a talent for dancing, and performing can make them feel desired and confident.

♦️ Aries moon/mars placements and their road rage! Both my parents have these placements and my god the number of stressful rides to school I had when I was a child 😂 this can also apply to the other fire mars.

♦️ Lilith conjunct ascendant: these people often provoke reactions everywhere they go, they rarely go unnoticed whether it is positive reactions or negative. The women with this aspect might get sexualised a lot, and the men with this aspect might attract animosity from other men. ♦️ Sun-jupiter and moon-jupiter aspects: they might always see the bright side of things, "it will get better", "this is temporary", seeing the glass half-full. A lot of optimism, faith in a higher meaning, maybe too optimistic sometimes and too trusting that things will unfold in the right way.

♦️Mars square pluto women often attract creepy men on the street, interactions with aggressive men might be unfortunately common. It is important to not repress their anger and channel their power in something like martial arts.

♦️Gemini moon/IC: they might love to talk with their loved ones at home, a lot of communication and learning in their private life. If they live alone they might be a lot on the phone or always have music or tv or radio on.

♦️Mercury square saturn: they might doubt their intellectual abilities when young, their learning style might not fit the classic school system. It is important that they are encouraged by their family, and with time they will gain confidence and master the learning techniques that fit them best.

♦️Mars in virgo might care too much about pleasing their partner in bed and have a hard time receiving pleasure without giving anything. They might also feel self-conscious if they do not feel "clean" like not fresh out of the shower. It is important for them to practice letting go of their thoughts and doubts and be present in their body. They deserve pleasure as much as everybody else!

♦️ Jupiter in the 2nd house might have a very good self-esteem, if the moon and venus are not too afflicted. And if it is the case it helps the native deal with the harder aspects.

♦️ That's why it is so dangerous to interpret an  aspect in isolation of the rest of the chart, a challenging aspect might be very beneficial in a chart and less in another one. For instance moon conjunct saturn might be more challenging for a Capricorn moon which is already quite controled and closed off, but in the sign of Aries it might help the native tame their impulsivity and control better their emotions. 

♦️ Or moon square Uranus might be beneficial for a Capricorn moon or a Taurus moon as it might help them break out of their routine and become more adaptable and flexible to change.

Thank you for reading!

@lunaa007

[beomcoups]

F.U.C.K.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ex!bf Seungcheol x fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, small fluff, lovers to exes au, 18+

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.1k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You've been on and off forever and you couldn't leave him alone if you tried. You have an itch only Seungcheol can scratch.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, oral, missionary, riding, praise, dirty talk, creampie, clit stim, multiple orgasms, a bit of overstimulation, Coups is a lover boi, angsty feelings about the relationship

𝐀𝐍: Thank youuuuu @hobeemin & @wongyuseokie for reading this for me and Beezy you are the best hype woman ever <3. Also thank you @aaagustd for making this sexy ass banner 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: 💿 F.U.C.K- Victoria Monet, Dirty Dancer- Orion Sun, Idea 686- Jayla Darden, Strings- iyla, Behind- Woodz, Forgive Me- Chloe x Halle, Art- Tyla, I Could Imagine- Alina Baraz, Good& Plenty- Alex Isley, Masego and Jack Dine, Skin Tight- Ravyn Lenae Steve Lacy, Idea 683- Jayla Darden, Body and Soul- Emotional Oranges and Biig Piig, Butterflies- Tyla, Between Us- Alina Baraz, Nasty- Tinashe, Under The Moon - Alex Isley, Jack Dine (spotify)

It’s complicated. Your Facebook relationship status has been that way for over a year. If someone asked, you wouldn’t know how to define your relationship with Seungcheol. You can’t say you’re just friends when the love is still there, but you can’t stay together longer to just work. Something happens, and you argue and split up. Months, sometimes years, can go by, and you feel like you’ve finally moved on, but all he has to do is call, or you have an itch that needs scratching, and there he is, ready to make it go away.

He stands there in front of you, his dark hair clipped and trimmed perfectly, highlighting the handsome features on his face: his dark, round eyes, high cheekbones, and plump pink lips. He comes dressed in a simple white tee and sweats, with an overnight bag in hand, as he knows he is staying the night. Seungcheol smirked as he walked in, placing a small kiss on your temple. 

“Well, hello to you too,” you say, shutting the door behind you. You watch him take off his shoes, walk into your living room, and admire the view of the city through your picture windows. You just moved into your high-rise condo a couple of months ago, and your job promotion allows you to level up in life and enjoy nice things for once. Your place looks straight out of a movie, with your tastes added. Your favorite color is blue, and you included it in your decor. 

“You kept the couch?” Seungcheol points at the royal blue sectional sofa with matching gold-trimmed throw pillows you bought from your favorite thrift store. “Yes,” you say proudly. “That couch is my pride and joy. We’ve been through a lot together.” Memories about the many times you spent together on the couch, clothed and unclothed, cloud your mind. He chuckles as you sashay to the kitchen, grabbing a bottled water. You offer him one, and he shakes his head, returning his attention to the city's shining lights. He’s been in your life for five years, meeting at a grocery store with both of your hands on the last bag of cherries. He relented, letting you have them in exchange for your number. You didn’t give it to him, hoping that you would see him again. At the time, you just moved to the city, and if you were meant to meet again, you would give him your number. A couple of weeks later, you did when you went to a birthday dinner with your former roommate. His eyes twinkled when you exchanged glances, and you felt like it was fate.  “You did it,” he felicitates you. “You did everything we talked about doing all those years ago. I’m proud of you.”

You would have late nights with him in your shitty old apartment, eating Chinese takeout in bed and talking about your hopes for the future. Seungcheol wanted to have it all: a nice house, cars, and riches beyond his dreams. All you wanted was a good life. You grew up poor, raised by a single mom who worked two jobs to ensure you had a roof over your head. You understood each other in that way, and it worked between you two for a while… until it didn’t.

“You got your high rise before me,” you appear beside him. “What does it feel like, being the top broker in your firm?”

“It’s nice,” he nods. “It keeps me busy.”

You knew that all too well. One of the reasons you broke up was time. His work felt more important than maintaining a relationship with you. You swear if someone called in the middle of the night, he would answer in a heartbeat. It’s not like you aren’t busy; you work on Wall Street. But you still made time to be with him at all important events and when it mattered most. The energy wasn’t reciprocated.

“I see nothing has changed,” you say, taking a swig of your water.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I think I am ready for it, though.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah. There is no point in having all of this if there is no one to share it with, right?”

You didn’t have to say anything back because he was right. What is the point of working hard, making more money than your parents could ever dream of, traveling, and having life experiences without having someone to share them with? It also incredibly frustrates you. Why did it take five years for him to get to this point? The back and forth, blocking each other on all accounts. Was it worth it?

You two are silent, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. His fingers slip in between yours, pulling you closer to him. Just being near him makes your heart skip several beats. No one like him can melt you just by his touch and presence. Yes, he can irritate you to no end, but he also makes your soul smile.

“I missed you,” he says, gazing at you. 

“I know.” 

You kiss him, the magic stirring in your chest as he returns your feelings; sparks all around you two like fireworks. Your hands explore him fervently, pulling off his shirt and throwing it on your couch. He unhooks your bra, helping you out of your shirt and exposing your breasts. He bites his lip as he palms his growing bulge, the very thought of his lips all over you making you hot.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers. 

You take his hand and guide him to your bedroom, climbing over your king-size bed. He follows you closely, his index finger sliding up your thigh. It feels electric, having him touch you again after so long. You have tried moving on, going on dates, and having one-night stands here and there. But deep down, those people weren’t him. Seungcheol knows your body, what makes you tick, your boundaries, and what drives you crazy. It’s exhausting trying to find that chemistry with someone else. Too bad you can’t just make it work. 

He slides your shorts and panties off with one hand, your naked body being illuminated by the moonlight. He notices your sheets, trying to hold it in before succumbing to a belly laugh. 

“Cherry sheets? Really?” He says in between breathes.

“Come on now,” you chuckle. “You know I love my little house on the prairie sheets.” “I swear you were born in the wrong generation,” Seungcheol expresses, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Yeah, maybe,” you muse over his words. “I’m glad I met you in this lifetime, though.” He admires you, his thumb caressing your cheek before he kisses you again. This time, it’s more heartfelt, your bodies hungry for another as each minute passes. His hand travels down to your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart and slowly entering a digit into your wet core. Seungcheol licks his lips, watching your eyes roll back as you unravel his arms. “Shit,” you moan. “Keep doing it just like that.”

“I’m going to do more than that,” he whispers in your ear. 

Seungcheol was already great with his fingers, slipping one more in you as his tongue played in circles on your neck, your sweet-smelling perfume intoxicating to him. He loves the way your brows furrow when he goes deep, your mind focused on nothing else but cumming all over his hand. You play with your clit, drunk on the pleasure he’s giving you, with your wetness pooling onto your sheets. You two are connected in a way, in your own little bubble surrounded by ecstasy.

“Fuck baby,” you pant as pressure builds up in your stomach. “I’m almost there.�� He pulls his fingers out of you quickly, snapping you out of your zone, and you whimper in protest. He aggressively pulls down his pants and briefs, revealing his hardened cock already leaking with precum. He slides down to your entrance, his face nose deep in between your legs before he dives in; his tongue attacks your sweet nectar. Sensational couldn't even begin to describe how you feel. He eats you with an enthusiasm that almost makes you laugh despite the deep pleasure he brings you. “You taste better than I remembered,” he mouths. “Cum for me.”

Your body is at its brink, ready to fall, when Seungcheol slips his fingers in, working together with his tongue to make sure you hit that pool of ecstasy. Your hands grip his hair, and your orgasm hits you like cool water on a warm day. You feel him smirk against your thigh, leaving you with lasting, small kisses before lifting his face and revealing your essence on the lower half. You cover your mouth to hold back your giggles, and he rolls his eyes, leaning over and kissing your lips. “I’m not sorry,” you breathe. “You knew what you were doing.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he smirks. “Especially when I’m going to make you do it again.”

Seungcheol lifts your leg, pulling himself back as he rubs his throbbing dick against your entrance. Your eyes grow wide as he taps your sensitive, swollen clit, a mischievous grin on his face. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says as if reading your thoughts. “I’m going to start slow.” “You don’t want me to blo—” you start to protest. “No, I’ve waited long enough,” his deep and velvety voice serves as a warning. FUCK.

He enters you inch by inch, stretching you out the way you like, your fingers already gripping the sheets. You look at him through a hazy daze, his focus on burying himself deep inside of you, bringing you a deep satisfaction. You enjoy watching his Adam’s apple shift when he moans, his voice barely audible while he dives into you. You remember the first time you slept together; he had your legs over his shoulder, fucking you long and deep on top of your blue couch at your old place. You both didn’t intend for it to happen that way; you were caught up in the highs of seeing a band you both enjoy, and one thing led to another. His dick is long with a bit of a curve, fitting perfectly like your pussy was molded and made for him. No one has even come close. 

“Give it to me,” you breathe. “Please, I need you bad.” Seungcheol loves it when you beg for it, and he obliges, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. Maybe it’s because you love him, but he is the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. The way his hips roll as he snaps into you, watching him come in and out of you with your wetness coating him, turns you on. Your hands grasp his face, your thumb slipping into his mouth as he fucks you silly. You can barely form words in your head, let alone say anything else but “fuck” and “make me cum”. He fucks you in a way that makes you have wet dreams and leaves you with a puddle in your sheets. If he were a Greek god, he would be Eros, the god of love and sex. That’s how bad he has you. “Turn over,” you grit your teeth. You lean up and flip him over, his throbbing cock still inside you as you are on top of him. You let your body take over, riding him while his hands are placed firmly on your breasts. You set the pace, and he follows, a harmonious rhythm between the two of you, your senses heightened to another level. You are on this incredible high, sliding on his shaft while you vigorously play with your clit, ready to cum. “Did you miss this?  He teases you as he grinds harder into you. “Did you miss sitting on this dick until you cum?” You nod fervently, your hand still playing with your clit, and you are ready to explode. 

“Fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I’m close. Let’s come together like we always do.” You erupt, screaming his name while he sloppily pumps into you, his hair sweaty and his succulent lips red from biting. He leans up and kisses you hard, your moans and words of praise swallowed and digested. Whatever you were going to say, he felt it more, your hearts beating in unison powered by your feelings for each other. He talks you through it, helping you come down from your high before he releases his own, spilling into you until he is completely spent. You’ve been on birth control for years, and Seungcheol is the only person you’ve let hit without a condom. It just feels so right with him. You roll off of him, collapsing on your pillow as you try and catch your breath. His breathing is relaxed, and when you gaze at him, his eyes are closed, already half asleep. You attempt to get out of bed, but he grabs your arm, pulling you close to him. 

“Stay,” he kisses your shoulder. “I sleep better when you’re with me.” 

You can’t deny him when he is in this state, pulling on your heartstrings like that. 

“Fine, you win,” you say without much effort. 

Glancing at the time, it’s after 12, and fatigue finally hits you at least. Snuggling into him, you fall into a deep sleep, but not before admitting that you still love him and would do anything for him. 

The sunlight is not kind as it peers through your windows and wakes you up a little after 9. You had forgotten to draw the curtains before you fell asleep, but you didn’t have much energy left after the night you had. You woke him up after three, sucking his cock until he exploded down your throat, and he returned the favor by eating you out until you were ripe from overstimulation. You made such a mess that you had to change your sheets and listen to him teasing you about your “old lady” sheets. Whatever, you liked them.

You rolled over, and Seungcheol was already awake, scrolling through his phone. He notices you and kisses your forehead before removing your blanket and smacking your ass.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says, leaning back against the headboard.

You chuckle as you get out of bed, grab your silk robe, and walk into the bathroom. You feel sore; last night’s shenanigans are indeed catching up with you. You just want to lay in bed and relax, but you have this nagging feeling in your stomach. You could brush it off and deal with it later, but knowing you, you will overthink, turning it into something it's not. You have to know how he feels.

Finishing up in the bathroom, you leave to find him setting orange juice on your nightstand with a couple of ibuprofen. He is only dressed in his sweats and nothing underneath, your center aching for him despite the tenderness you feel.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, reading your look. You have never had a good poker face.

You sit down on the bed, take your two pills, and wash them down with orange juice. You allow yourself to get your thoughts in order. You're unsure what to say, but you know the conversation needs to be had.

“What are we doing?” you blurt out. “I love you, and you never stopped loving me. Why can’t we just get it right?”

The silence is too deafening for your liking. It would be like you to tear the band-aid off first thing in the morning. But you hate being in the dark, not knowing what the future will hold. You’re not saying that you have to jump the broom, but you have to know if there’s any chance he feels the same way you do.

“I-I-m sorry,” you shake your head. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you first thing in the morning. Forget I said anything.” 

You attempt to leave the room before Seungcheol catches your arm and motions for you to sit down. Grudgingly, you do, sitting on your ottoman and facing him. “You didn’t even give me a chance to respond,” he complains. “You can’t always assume how I feel is something bad. Give me a chance.” You nod, knowing deep down he is right. “You are right,” He admits. “I love you, and this song and dance we’ve been doing for years is tired. I came to you last night because I missed you and I need you. You’re the only one in my life who has always kept it straight with me, even when you get on my nerves.” You smirk at his comment, knowing it’s true. “But we have also been apart for a long time, and as much as I want to jump back into our usual routine, I recognize we have grown up a bit and need to get to know each other as our different selves.” You nod slowly, mulling over his words, unsure what to say. “I also don’t want to see anyone else,” he breathes. “You are the only person I want to see, to do this with.” He points at the sheets, and you roll your eyes. It would be like him to somehow bridge it back to sex. 

“So…” your voice trails off. “What are we then? We are more than friends but not together? I don’t understand.” “I want to be with you,” he grabs your hands. “If we fight and storm off to our houses, I’d rather it be that then we break up and don’t talk for months at a time. I hate that.” You nod, finally understanding what he is saying. He is scared of the future, just like you are. But in this life, you would rather go through it with him than anyone else. You have too much time and feelings just to throw it away. “Maybe we can try talking to someone about it this time around?” You say. “A therapist or something? I want to be with you, and maybe working through our issues to understand each other better sometimes is what we need.” “Yeah, I’m open to that.” He hugs you, embracing you tightly before leaving sweet kisses on your face. You are deathly ticklish, and he knows it. He moves his kisses elsewhere until you find yourself in your bed, his body towering over yours. He leaves you one more kiss on your lips before laying his head on your chest. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispers.

You look down and smile, caressing the dark stresses in his hair.

“Yeah. We will be.”

[milkbobatyun]

wake up, please

pairing: diluc x fem!reader

genre: angstober, events

summary: an argument causes you to leave the safety of the ragnvindr manor at night, would diluc ever get to hear your voice, ever see you open your eyes again?

word count: 883

a/n: idk, i thought this would fit diluc kinda well, sorry for re-traumatising this already traumatised boi (◞‸◟；)

the thick silence crackled with anger, your fists clenched, heart pounding in your chest. the tranquility of the winery had been shattered by your arguing with diluc. you wouldn’t call yourself a jealous woman, but seeing another woman drape herself over diluc had you seething. his lack of protest and unwillingness to push her away was enough to make your blood boil.

with a frustrated sigh, you threw open the study door, stalking down the hallway and slamming the front door as you left. the resounding echo was loud enough to make diluc wince from the study, guilt settling deep in his chest.

perhaps you were being foolish, going out into the night with only a thin layer of clothing and only a small dagger tucked at your side. but your rationality was clouded with frustration, danger the last thing on your mind. the weak moonlight barely illuminated the path before you, but you didn’t care, you needed space, to breathe.

but as that principle goes, you attract what you fear.

hilichurls. their grunts echoing in the quiet night as they had you surrounded, their bats dancing with flames and swinging as they ran towards you. you summoned your dagger, dodging the first attack and swining with a desperate arc, the heat of the wave dancing across your skin, teasing you with dancer.

you were outnumbered and unprepared, but you fought, adrenaline driving you forwards. they were weaker than they looked, but your body had taken a toll. with your clothing ripped and torn in some places, you stumbled home, a deep cut on your forehead the main source of pain, though the pain in your head was a dull roar compared to the turmoil in your heart.

the foyer was illuminated brightly with candlelights, though it remained quiet. with a clatter, you discarded your shoes at the door, head pounding with every step and fatigue seeping into your bones. the familiar scent of old wood and wine filled your senses as you staggered into the nearest armchair, its softness cradling your aching body as you collapsed into the cushions.

with a sigh, you succumbed to the darkness crawling at the edge of your vision.

diluc sat at his study table, trying to complete the paperwork that had been piling on top. his eyes scanned across the same line time and time again. his thoughts, wouldn’t allow him to concentrate, worrying about your safety. in the vast mansion, every creak of the floorboards, every step of the servants amplified the tension in his chest, his ears straining to hear something.

when he heard the muffled thud of shoes against the hardwood floor, he sprung up from his chair, his papers forgotten. diluc threw open his study door, racing down the hallway. his sharp eyes caught sight of the droplets of blood on the floor, his stomach dropping, icy dread chilling his veins as he ran towards you.

your slumped figure lay in the armchair, the shallow rise and fall of your chest a sign of life. the blood oozed from your forehead, dripping down in streams. diluc’s hands trembled as he reached towards you, ripping a strip of his shirt to press against your wound.

“adele!” diluc’s voice yelled out, raw with fear and desperation. “adele, go fetch a doctor! now!”

the blood soaked through the snow white strip immediately, the warmth coating his hands. his heart pounded in his chest as he applied more pressure on your wound, willing the bleeding to stop.

the medic arrived, treating your wounds with practiced hands, his face grim. diluc’s hawk eyes watched every movement, worry worming away in his stomach.

“young master,” the doctor began tentatively, eyes glued to the floor. “the lady may be asleep for a few days, no need to worry of course, but i am just informing you that she most likely won’t wake up today.”

“for her comfort, i suggest moving her to her bed.” the doctor continued, giving his instructions while he cleaned and packed away the bloody medical instruments.

diluc’s breath caught, swallowing thickly. his hands were still sticky from your blood, the heavy silence weighing down on his chest.

“thank you,” diluc whispered, his voice hoarse. the doctor’s words echoed in his mind. with gentle hands, diluc cradled your sleeping form in his arms, pace steady as he walked towards your room.

adele scurried ahead, laying out a change of clothes and preparing the bed. diluc softly set you down, placing your head on the pillow, leaving the room to wash his hands and allow adele to change your clothes with privacy, red hot embarrassment dusting his ears. 

quietly, diluc brought over a chair, sitting down next to your bed, hand hesitantly hovering above yours, before finally settling it on your cold skin. the sight of your head, swathed in the white bandages, tugged at his heartstrings. it was his actions, his words that had caused this. the burden of guilt settled on his shoulders.

“im sorry,” his whisper of apology fell from his lips as he sat next to you, the moonlight filtering through the gap of the closed curtains. underneath the milky light of the moon, diluc sat, a quiet vigil of guilt, praying for your forgiveness when you wake.

if you would ever wake.

taglist (open): @yeonjunsfox

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobayun 2024 / づ ♡

[wwooyology]

Six Feet Under | P.SH

「paring」 : ceo!sunghoon x stripper!fem!reader 「word count」 : 3.5k

「synopsis」 : even a busy ceo needs a well-deserved break to release some pent-up frustration and you just so happen to be that escape he finds himself returning to. he was married and you swore you'd never fall in love again, however, what happens when you find yourself wanting more?

「genre」 : smut, angst, forbidden romance

「warning」 : cheating (I do NOT condone cheating irl, this is for the sake of the story!), making out, pet names (baby, princess, kitten, good girl, also slut is used), unprotected sex (big no-no, wrap it before you tap it), fingering, oral (m. receiving), cursing, mirror sex, teasing, mentions of breeding, creampie, choking, hair pulling, begging, hoon spanks the reader like once, public sex(?), lmk if I missed anything!

All you wanted in your life was to live a life of luxury, surrounded by pretty things. So much money that you live the rest of your life in peace with a fancy glass of champagne. A little life without having to deal with someone else, without commitment, without love. 

However, nothing in life came for free and you of course had to work for it. Just like any other normal Friday night here you were in a tiny two-piece that left very little to the imagination and heels that were ungodly tall. Twirling around the pole effortlessly, money pooling on the ground underneath you. The catcalls and provocative remarks weren’t anything new to you if anything they spurred you on more.

Just then you caught sight of a familiar face, sitting at the bar that trailed the length of the stage. His eyes watching you from over the rim of his glass, studying your every move. Sunghoon wasn’t a stranger to you, far from it actually.

Sunghoon was always here Friday nights, maybe Saturday if he could sneak out without raising too many questions. He was a busy man, running a well-known company wasn’t for the weak. This also meant that he pent up frustration from the earlier days of the week he needed to get out so where did he find himself? At the most popular strip club in all of Korea, watching the very dancer that has held him captive since the beginning.

Landing on your feet with a satisfying click of your heels you walked around the pole, your hand still tightly wrapped around the metal. Stopping in front of the black-haired male with a smirk, dropping to your knees you rolled hips forward, your hand in your hair gaining some hollars from the other drunk men around you. 

While many others had their gaze set on you, your gaze was solely on the man in front of you. Sunghoon’s eyes never left your figure as you crawled in his direction, giving him a better view down the skimpy top that hung loosely on your body.

“Hey, kitten give us another show, yeah?” A man that was standing next to Sunghoon reached forward tucking a wad of cash in the band of your bottoms before giving your thigh a small tap.

You leaned down on your forearms, giving him a wide smile and a wink before turning your gaze back to Sunghoon. Watching his chocolate brown eyes darken, his knuckles white as he gripped his glass a little too tight.

The look he was giving you was already enough to have heat pooling in your gut. 

Crawling forward, you reach forward tracing your manicured fingers along his jaw feeling the muscles tense under your touch. This wasn’t completely out of the norm for you so it didn’t raise any suspicion from those around you. However, you got a few jealous remarks as you leaned closer to Sunghoon, your fingers trailing down his neck right over his pulse point. You could feel his rapid heartbeat under your fingertips as your lips brushed his ear. Saying a simple ‘you know where to find me.’ before moving away just as the music faded, ending your performance.

--

Finding you was exactly what Sunghoon did, finding you sitting in front of your vanity in your dressing room. Your eyes flickered up to meet his dark ones through the mirror as the door clicked shut.

“Took you long enough.” Your words were more teasing than annoyed, however, the taller male didn’t say a word. Looking at you through the mirror with a hard-to-read expression.

Seeing as you weren’t going to get a response you let out a huff before grabbing your hair brush to untangle your silky strands. Your eyes trained on your reflection as you repeated the same cycle of pulling your hair through the thin bristles.

Until movement caught your eye, Sunghoon moved to stand behind you as you sat the hairbrush down. His slim fingers then traced along your jaw much like you had done to him just an hour ago. They were cold against your burning skin, leaving a chill to go down your spine.

Light gleaming off of the metal band that hugged his ring finger reminded you that the man behind you, the man who has fucked you senseless multiple times in this very room wasn’t a single man.

“What about your wife? Won’t she be wondering where her husband is so late?” You smirked at Sunghoon through the mirror.

His hand was quick to grab your face, squishing your cheeks tightly and you let out a surprised yelp.

“How many times do I have to tell you to keep her out of your mouth?” Sunghoon’s breath fanned over your ear, “or do I have to remind you what happened last time?”

Your throat went dry as the memories of him denying you release so many times flashed through your mind. Looking over you met his dark eyes, but no words left your tongue.

“Cat got your tongue princess?” The deep tone of his voice had you squeezing your thighs together, which of course didn’t go unnoticed by the dark-haired male.

His grip on your face loosened as he softly caressed your jaw, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. As if instinct took over you let your mouth fall open allowing him to insert the digit into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. 

You closed your lips, encasing his finger in your warm heat while he watched you with an intense gaze. Sucking softly, tongue swirling, drenching his digit in your saliva, eyes never leaving his.

“On your knees,” Sunghoon demanded, pulling his hand away from your face, and motioning to the ground. You obey, sitting on your knees on the cool faux wood ground, an ache already starting to form in your joints. But that would be a problem for future you to deal with.

Looking up you were met with Sunghoon’s blown-out pupils, the same cold expression on his face. However, there was a tinge of annoyance because of how slow you were going.

Reaching down he ran his fingers through your hair and you relished in the feeling of his nails softly scraping your scalp. Until he grabbed a fist full of your hair, tugging harshly causing a whine to leave your lips. He leaned down, his breath fanning your face, a dark look in his eyes that was enough to tell you that you were in for a long night.

“You know what to do, so-” He tugged on your hair again eliciting a whimper from your lips, “Do. It.”

Letting go of your hair he stood straight on his feet once more, watching as you hastily reached for his belt. Pulling it loose you let his slacks fall, pooling at his ankles and leaving him in his boxers. You ghosted your fingers over his bulge that was pressing against the fabric, “aw how long have you been like this?” You teased, but the dark spot was evidence enough that he had been like this for some time.

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched as you continued to tease him through his underwear. Opening his mouth to tell you to get on with it but he was cut off as a choked groan tore through his throat, your fingers squeezing him through the fabric. The sound alone was enough to have your core throbbing, and your underwear becoming uncomfortably sticky.

Looking up only added to the burning in your stomach, his bottom lip was trapped in his teeth, his eyes hooded watching your every move. You didn’t want to wait any longer to have a taste of him again, it’d be a lie if you said you weren’t addicted to him. Something about fucking around in secret excited you even more, though you did feel kinda bad for his wife.

The sound of your name falling from his lip in such a surly tone was enough to snap you out of your daze. Raising higher on your knees you grabbed the hem of his button-up shirt, pushing it up revealing his toned abdomen. Pressing feather-like kisses over the skin, trailing along the waistband of his underwear. Listening to the hushed curses that would fall from his lips gives you the confidence to press a firm kiss right on his v-line. 

Feeling his muscles contract under your skin spurred you on, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouth kisses along his abdomen. Stopping right under his belly button, nipping at the skin softly, his hand falling softly on your head.

“No marks.” He groaned as you nipped a bit harder at the skin. Oh how badly you wanted to mark his perfect porcelain skin, but you knew better than to disobey. Pulling away you let his shirt fall back down, hooking your fingers in the band of his underwear. Tugging them down, you let the fabric join his pants on the ground.

You take him in one hand, pressing a thumb against his leaking tip resulting in a low groan to tear through his lips. Spitting in your palm you replace your other hand, rubbing up and down his shaft. Your saliva and his precum allow your movements to become fluid. His hand gripped the back of your vanity chair, knuckles turning white. You bring your head closer and lick a stripe up his cock, eyes flickering up watching as his head falls back soft moan-like sighs leaving his lips. Swirling your tongue around his tip, the taste of precum tingled in your mouth causing you to hum softly, making the volume of his moans increase. “Fuck princess, stop- fuck, stop teasing.”

Releasing his vice-like grip on the chair, Sunghoon gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail. Looking down he’s met with your lust-filled gaze, his breath hitching in his throat at the sight. Your face was painted a beautiful shade of red and your pretty pink lips wrapped around his cock. He groans when you take him deeper, his hold on your hair tightening as his hips buck forward into your throat, making you gag at the sudden intrusion.

“Hmm fuck baby,” He hums as he thrusts his hips forward once again shivering at the feeling of your throat contracting around him. You focus your breathing through your nose, allowing him to take charge. His head falls back again, his pace picking up causing tears to prick in the corner of your eyes, your nails digging into the skin of his thighs.

“Why talk about my wife, when- fuck, when you can just suck my cock like the little slut you are.” He growls, picking up his pace once more taking the air right out of your lungs as you hum around him. Your thighs and knees burning in protest from sitting in the same position for so long, but the sight of him getting lost in the feeling of your throat was enough for you to want to endure it.

“Shit…” Sunghoon suddenly pulled out of your mouth, afraid that he’d cum then and there. Tugging on your hair, enough for a whine to fall from your swollen lips. “Get up.” his raspy tone instantly had you swooning as you scrambled back to your feet. He kicked his pants and underwear off his ankles. Latching his lips to yours, he groaned at the taste of himself on your tongue. He pushes you back until your lower back hits the vanity behind you, lips trailing down your neck as he picks you up, setting you on the surface.

Your fingers comb through his hair as he sucks on the hot skin of your neck, his canines scraping across your pulse point have a shiver going down your spine. He could feel your heart rate accelerate under his lips as he colored your skin in shades of reds and purples.

“Hoon, wait- fuck!” You exclaim as he bites down on the junction of your shoulder and neck, the stinging makes your head spin. 

“You’re mine.” He growled against your skin, fingers undoing your robe. You both know that wasn’t true, you would never truly be his, he was married and you’d rather be buried six feet under before committing to a serious relationship. But just for the night, you’d pretend. 

“My little slut to ruin.” His lips latched back on yours in a fervent kiss, teeth clashing, drool seeping from the corner of your lips. Your finger worked in a rush to undo his white button-up, desperate to feel his skin on you. Once the shirt was undone you ran your fingers down his torso, nails scraping his skin softly.

His lips never left your skin as he pushed the robe off of your shoulders, letting it lay on the table behind you, fingers tracing the lace fabric of the underwear set you had changed into. A low groan fell from his lips as he leaned down by your ear, “You’re fucking insatiable.” 

You whine as he squeezed one of your boobs, harshly before letting his fingers trailed down, parting your thighs further. He pulled away to watch as your eyes pleaded with him to touch you. 

“Hoon, please.” You squirm under his touch as his finger brushes over your core.

“Please what princess?” He smirked, enjoying the way your eyebrows scrunched together in desperation, your fingers wrapped loosely around his forearm while the other gripped the table underneath you.

“Touch me please,” A soft moan slipped past your lips as he ghosted over your clothed clit before whining when he took his hand back to your thigh.

“But I am touching you.” Frustration bubbled in your chest as you gazed up at him, the want to smack that smirk off his face was strong, but not as strong as the want of his fingers in you. “You mean like this?” He traced the area right before where you really wanted him, you whined, grip tightening on his arm.

“God dammit Sunghoon, just fuck me with your fingers please!” You exclaim and before you could even blink his other hand wrapped around your throat, limiting your oxygen supply.

“You better watch your fucking tone princess.” His lips ghost over your own as his other hand moves to cup your heat making you let out a choked moan. His fingers press against your clothed cunt feeling you soak your underwear further, “you’re so wet baby, fuck.”

The lack of proper oxygen and his teasing touch was making your head spin. Sunghoon kissed you deeply as he moved your underwear to the side, feeling your warm and slick folds. You whimper against his lips as his thumb finds your clit, circling it sharply.

“Only I can make you this wet, not those other assholes out there, me.” He growled as he inserted his finger into you and you cried out, back arching and nails digging into his skin. Your head was spinning, everything becoming overwhelming. He let go of your neck allowing you to breathe properly before finding purchase on your hip as he worked his finger in and out of you.

“Fuck… Hoon,” Moans fell from your lips as he pushed another finger into your sopping pussy, picking up his pace. Your head falls back in pure bliss allowing Sunghoon to latch his lips to your neck once more.

Sunghoon relished in your scent and the way you wrapped around his fingers so perfectly knowing that he would have to stop soon, his dick painfully hard and he wanted to be in you. Tilting your head back up you cupped his face with your free hand, bringing his attention to your already fucked out expression.

“Hoon-” You were cut off as his fingers brushed over your sweet spot causing a loud moan to tear through your lips. He smirked devilishly as he kissed the corner of your lips.

“What were you saying, baby?” He teased as he abused your sweet spot, pulling you closer and closer to your release. 

“Please, Hoon, I need you, so bad.” You were growing too impatient and quite frankly so was he.

“Need my cock princess?” He teased, watching as you nodded your head furiously, lips caught between your teeth. Pulling his drenched fingers out of your pussy making you whine softly before he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you to your feet.

Your legs felt like jelly and if Sunghoon hadn’t been holding on to you, you surely would have fallen to your knees. Before you could even process it Sunghoon had you turned around and bent over the surface of the vanity.

“Now be a good girl and watch as I fuck you.” His finger trailed up the back of your thigh before grabbing a handful of your ass. You hummed loving the feeling of his warm skin on you, eyes fluttering shut.

A cry left your lips, eyes snapping open at the sudden sting on your asscheek. “What did I say, princess?” Sunghoon rubbed the red skin with his thumb, eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

Pushing your underwear to the side once more, lining his cock up with your entrance, eyes never leaving yours even as he slid in with a sudden thrust. A loud cry was torn from your lungs, head fell down at the sudden feeling.

Sunghoon grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head up and making you look in the mirror. He didn’t give you a chance to fully adjust before he started thrusting his hips at a fast pace, grip tight on both your hair and hip. The movement had your eyes rolling as broken moans fell from your lips.

“Such a good girl, taking my cock like the slut you are.” Sunghoon chuckles, ramming his hips into yours, driving his cock deeper into your pussy eliciting moans from you.

“H…hoon.” You whine out, reaching behind you, nails digging into the skin of his hip. He hissed before releasing your hip, grabbing your wrist instead. Pulling until your back arched and a pornographic moan left your mouth.

Tears blurred your vision as you tried your hardest to keep looking in the mirror like he told you to, but the pleasure was just becoming too much. Letting your head hang, you whimper as Sunghoon pulls your head right back up.

“Am I fucking you that good that you can’t even listen?” He mocks with a smug smirk, hand leaving your hair to wrap around your neck, pulling your body flush against his as he keeps up with the animalistic pace. A gasp escapes your parted lips at the change, almost doubling over when the head of his cock brushes over your sweet spot.

“‘S too deep-'' Another cry cuts you off as Sunghoon’s fingers find your clit, abusing the small bundle of nerves. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, falling back on his shoulder.

“Fuck- you’re squeezing my dick so tight.” He groaned, feeling his climax creeping up, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer, but he’ll be damned if you don’t cum before him. Picking up the pace of his fingers on your clit had you crying out again.

“Hoon-””Don’t worry princess, I’ll fill your sweet pussy so good, knock you up maybe so everyone knows your mine.” His words didn’t register in your foggy mind, your ears ringing as you felt so close.

With one final thrust of his hips, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, soaking his cock that still pounded into your abused hole. He groaned as you tightened around him like a vice, his orgasm right there.

“Too much…” You whined, grabbing his hand that had left your clit, now on your hip. 

“Just a bit more, I’m almost there.” His once deep and husky voice came out almost whiney as he continued to thrust harshly, throwing you into overstimulation. “I’mma fill you to the brim,” He bit down on your shoulder and you clamped down on him, tipping him over the edge. A loud groan leaves his lips as he pumps his hot, thick cum into you, filling you to the brim just as he promised.

His hips slowed to a stop and he released your throat, wrapping his arms around your body encasing you in his warmth. The room was filled with heavy breathing as you both came down from your highs. Sunghoon whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you held onto his forearm.

You wished you could stay like this forever, in his warmth, his scent, his touch, his taste, stuffed by him, but…

Your thoughts were cut off as a shrilling ringing filled the room, reminding you that this was the end. It was probably a good thing because again he was married and you’d rather be caught dead before falling in love again. Yet here you are hoping for just a few more minutes with him.

He really was going to have you six feet under.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

"Told him go put my name on his account

because when I need money, I ain't tryna wait"

Sugar daddy!König x stripper reader. First time you met at the stripclub, he was so nervous to talk to you that he didn't know what to do with himself. He was dressed in a button up and slacks, perfectly tailored to his long limbs and not a wrinkle in sight. He just kept handing you 20s every couple of minutes while you talked to him, sitting on his thigh. You just kept rambling on and on about the newest outfits you've bought and your skincare routine. His jaw was clenched hard while he focused on listening to you, trying to ignore his painfully hard dick tucked up into his waistband. It made him feel so special when you gave him your number. Of course it was a fake number you gave every customer so you can let them know when you're coming to work. But he didn't know any better. He lost it when he got a text from you the following week,

"Working today! Come see me?❤️"

He didn't know you were just clicking through the list of customers on your texting app and sending the same message. He got at the club two hours before you even stepped into the changing room. He'd awkwardly shoo away other dancers away saying he was waiting for you. It was the same thing every time you worked; sitting on his thigh talking about frivolous things while he handed you 20s. He didn't even get a lap dance from you until a solid two months of coming to the club. And when it finally did happen, you could see the deep shade of red his face turned even in the dim lights. He didn't even properly say goodbye before leaving the club. Practically sprinted to his car, desperately undid his slacks and aggressively fucked his fist in the parking lot. Every detail of you vividly emblazoned in his mind despite how dark it was. Slammed his hand down his aching shaft repeatedly, imagining it was your perfect ass bouncing up and down on him. Wondered if your skin tasted as good as it smelled. He spills a hot thick load on his button up, whimpering. Staring at the ceiling of his car; he's thankful for the tinted windows on his Range Rover.

As the months went on, he would bring gifts to the club; watches, earrings, bags, even skincare products that you brought up when you first met. Your coworkers oohed and ahhed, talked about how lucky you are to have such a hot guy be your top client. How it was even better that he barely talked.

One day he timidly asks for your real name before handing you a fat stack of 20s, promising he'll keep it a secret. You were gonna tell him either way, but the money didn't hurt. You even gave him your real number. You already liked him, you were just afraid to complicate things. He promised he would keep it simple. Just let him take care of you: How could you say no?

So you went on your first date together. Met up right outside the restaurant. Both of you got a better look at each other now that you weren't in a dark club, it was so weird seeing him for the first time while not wearing a skimpy bikini. You still had the same effect on him though: the dress you wore made him so hot under the collar, he could melt right then and there. Also, he was used to you being...taller? It was probably the impossibly tall shoes you donned at work. But there you were, in normal heels (even they were high, though). He still towered over your either way. He was somehow even hotter in this light, subtle scars across his face and sleepy eyes that were accentuated by annoyingly long lashes.

You were the only people in the restaurant which was unexpected because of how popular it was. (He had bought the whole place out, of course. He just couldn't imagine being distracted by other people while trying to impress you on your first real date.) As usual, he smiled when you touched his arm or laughed at your own joke. As usual, you were the one leading the conversation. As usual, he only spoke when you asked him a question.

At the end of the date, instead of calling a cab to take you home; you asked him to drive you. Then you asked him to walk you up to your place. Then you asked him to come in for tea. Then you asked him to rail you over the kitchen island. He turned a darling shade of pink that made you giggle.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to..."

He stood awkwardly in your kitchen, shifting uncomfortably.

"No, I really want this. I promise."

You assured him, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his neck. He swallowed hard, and blinked. He felt so guilty because he didn't want to take advantage of you. But God did he want you in a way that was downright wicked. You tugged at his collar and kissed him as he was in the middle of fighting with himself. Your lips were so soft, the softest things he ever kissed. God was it divine.

In the blink of an eye, you were leaning your elbows on the counter with your legs open. Of course he wanted get waterboard by your pussy first but you looked too fucking good bent over in that dress that hugged your curves so well. The way your heels have you standing on the balls of your feet, accentuating your legs and making your ass stick out, he was literally drooling. He slid your dress up and moaned when he saw how soaked you were. Pussy so fat it almost ate up the small thong you were wearing. He gently slid it to the side and got weak in the knees seeing your pretty lips for the first time. He quickly undid his pants, giving himself a couple tugs enjoying the way you swayed your hips. He teased his way inside, swiping his tip through your slick to lube himself up. Almost came right when he stuck his thick tip in. He didn't even slide himself all the way in; afraid to hurt you, no matter how much you begged. It took everything in him to not release until you did. He grit his teeth so hard trying to control himself he gave himself a headache. He made the sweetest moans and whimpers.

"Mein Engel, mein Engel~"

He'd repeat. It was honestly the most noise you've ever heard come from this man. He was obsessed with the way you gripped him. You looked back right into his eyes and begged for him to give you every last inch. He couldn't help himself, he slammed his hips against your ass. Knocked the wind right out of you. His fingers dug into your hips as he lost control of himself; repeatedly digging into you with his fat shaft. Every pump was a bruising kiss to your cervix. It hurt. It was heavenly. Your legs started shaking so bad your knees gave out and he held you up by the hips, just lifting you enough to make your stand on your tiptoes. Fucked you right through your orgasm; he held off for this long, might as well make the most of it. Every pump after that just sent you more into a stupor until he finished inside you, you didn't even realize you were begging for him to do that. Just dick drunk and hypnotized.

You didn't take the cash he offered before he walked out, that would make this whole moment feel transactional, cheapen the moment. You weren't having sex with him because he gave you money. You were having sex with him because you liked him, because he took care of you. And you wanted to take care of him. Oh and you knew after having sex he'd probably give you every cent in his pocket anyway.

As you closed the door you squealed to yourself , God how did you get so lucky? You were just happy wanted to get off to the real thing after touching yourself for months to the thought of him. To be honest, you've wanting to fuck him since you first met him. Saw his hard dick the very first time you were sitting on his thigh.

He paid you to take a day off, then a week off, then a monthly allowance. You quit to just get taken care by him. Never saw a bill, he just paid for it. Gave you enough money to feel secure if you ever split up. He made you an authorized user on his credit card so you could build your credit. Even with the age gap, you looked like a perfect couple walking down the street arm in arm.

Might do a more nasty part 2 LMAO

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

burning pt. 2 | b. blake

part one | masterlist

summary: season three — a daunting decision is to be made. multiple cups of grounder celebration juice, an arrogant bellamy blake, and a desire to prove oneself cause an inevitable outcome.

pairing: bellamy blake x reader

warnings (including all parts): alcohol consumption/intoxication, sensual dancing, jealousy, sexual desecration??, mild possessiveness, arguments, bellamy speaking in trigedaslang (giggling and kicking my feet), dialogue-heavy, manhandling, mild angst, smut, unprotected p in v (do not), reader is short because i’m short, deal with it <3

notes: THIS IS PART TWO OF FROM THE FLAMES!!

word count: 2.6k

No.

Way.

There was absolutely no way I was going to join a horde of drunken warriors dancing around a ten-foot-tall bonfire.

At least, that was what I had told Raven ten minutes ago.

Given the current position in which I was standing (which was just outside the crowd of dancers by a barrel containing a brew that I told myself was just really strong moonshine) and the alcohol oozing through my veins like sweet, molten honey, I think it’s safe to say that I had contradicted myself.

How many drinks had I had now? Two, three? Somewhere around there.

I wasn’t drunk, I swear. Although, I was certainly working my way towards being so. Raven had gently coerced—threatened—me into joining the raunchy dance circle. I had at first refused, but when she began to suggest telling Bellamy my ‘little secret’ if I didn’t do it myself, I reluctantly, very reluctantly, agreed.

So, that was that. I was going to dance. With Grounders. Around a bonfire. In front of Bellamy.

Hence, the drinks.

The only times I had ever danced were during parties back on the Ark, but those were so tame and regulated. This was vastly different. There were no rules, no sophistication, and certainly no guards keeping tabs on how close a girl danced with a boy. The latter was clear as day, taking the form of a couple dancing together a few feet in front of me.

A woman with dark, slicked-back braids and deep bronze skin pushed herself against her partner, a tall man with lengthy facial hair and spike-cuffed fists that must’ve been the size of my head. One of his hands was on her back, the other on her hip, ruching up her long skirt so that it exposed her thighs as she glided her chest up his torso. They grinded and swayed and flowed together in time with the pulsating beat.

Dread grappled me. I had to do that? How the hell do you dance like that in jeans and a tank top?

Through the ever-migrating crowd, I spotted Raven standing with Monty and Harper on the opposite side of the square. Of course, she had already been watching me the whole time. The fear on my face was unmistakable, yet she only sent an impatient nod of her head that said, “Get on with it already.”

If anything, you could always rely on Raven for her persistence.

“Christ, help me.” I plunged my cup into the barrel, fervently bringing its contents back to my lips and down my throat.

“Didn’t take you for a religious one,” came a deep voice from behind me.

I swivelled around, my cup still craned to my lips, and found the incentive for my drinking habits standing before me.

Bellamy.

Gracelessly, I choked as a much too-large mouthful of liquid streamed down my throat. My innards recoiled in on themselves. “Bellamy,” I said, attempting to compose myself. “Hi.” Unfortunately, the abhorrent aftertaste still lurked on my tongue, causing my expression to sour into one of disgust. “God—makes moonshine seem like apple juice.”

Apparently, he found this amusing. A hum of a chuckle bobbed in his throat. “Looks like you’re enjoying the party then.”

A few variations of how I wanted to reply: “I wasn’t until you started talking to me,” “Not really, but if you take me into a back alley right now, I might,” and, just a plain and simple, “I need you.”

What I really said: “Oh, yeah, I’m having a great time. You meet this guy?” I patted the barrel behind me. “Really supportive. We’re becoming good friends.”

He nodded, eyeing me with a quizzical smirk. “I can see that. Maybe you should branch out a bit. Have you met the one called Water yet?”

“You’re funny.”

“Alcohol tends to have that effect on me,” he said, and I laughed. His freckled cheeks rounded into apples and his teeth made a rare appearance; he looked away as if to hide his smile, as if Bellamy Blake couldn’t possibly be anything but serious and brooding. He’s kept my secret; I’ll keep his.

We both observed the crowd and the fire as a new song began to play, standing comfortably, wordlessly, side by side. Maybe ‘wordlessly’ was a bit of a stretch—there was a magnitude of words filling my mind, especially when he began unzipping his jacket and shrugging it off to expose his contoured arms to the fire’s fervour.

His arms…

“How many drinks have you had?”

I blinked. “What?”

He stared at me with a mischievous glint in his eye, draping his jacket on an unlit makeshift barbeque. “I said, what do you think of all this?”

The veil of lust-ridden (let’s call it what it was) fog lifted from my mind, and my brows creased deeply as I attempted to piece together what he was talking about. It took me a few belated seconds before I realized he had been referring to the Grounders and Sky People uniting as one people. I could hardly contain an idiotic smile from breaching my lips—my opinion was important to him.

“It’s—well,” I stammered, “it’s different.” It’s different? If only he knew how badly I wanted to club myself with a brick at that moment. Despite my obvious mental stagnation, he expressed nothing but patience, waiting with a visible longing for my input. So, I tried again, slowly working around the alcohol and shrewd blockages in my brain. “Honestly? It scares me. Their first impression of us was that we were cold-blooded killers and ours of them was the exact same. Ever since we hit the ground, we’ve been at each other’s throats; we’ve all committed so many acts of war.

“I’m scared of how fragile this peace is, how one tiny mistake could lead to the annihilation of our kind or theirs, or even both.” Bellamy watched me with silent contemplation. I continued, “And I’m scared if this peace does break, you’ll be on the front-lines because I know you’ll refuse to be anywhere else. And I know you and I tend to… disagree more often than not, but if you were to die—” I looked down, bashfully scrutinising the toes of my boots “—I think I’d be lost.”

He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. I immediately wished to snatch the words my loosened tongue had released and shove them back down my throat. His silence was writhing excruciatingly through the air, surrounding us like a constricting serpent.

Say something, Bellamy. Say anything.

“I think I’d feel the same,” he finally spoke, and the relief I felt was instant. I looked up at him. His pupils were bowls of sweet melted chocolate as he cocked his head to the side. “What would I do without my favourite sparring partner?”

My heart soared.

My favourite sparring partner.

Favourite.

So much for not smiling like an absolute idiot. I could only pray the fire’s orange light masked the jeopardising tinge of my cheeks, though there was nothing I could do about my blatant staring. Maybe it would have been embarrassing if I were the only one, but Bellamy had the same problem.

Someone seemed to hit ‘pause’on time.

The blood in my veins moved like a tranquil river; my heart expanded and subdued with each slow beat. The voices and bodies around us blurred into one big mass of nothing. All that seemed to be moving was the music drifting down towards us from the tower and Bellamy’s face, which was leaning closer in microscopic intervals, almost unnoticeably. But I noticed.

And then the bonfire roared with a loud crack.

Voices mingled. Bodies shuffled. Time restarted.

Bellamy cleared his throat and looked away, just as I began inspecting the cup in my hand. What was in that stuff? It was supposed to give me the confidence to dance in front of him; he ruined—a term I’ll use loosely—my plans by greeting me directly, so now I was just tipsy for no good reason.

At least now I didn’t have to join a wanton circle of dancing grounders.

Wait.

Was Bellamy going to kiss me?

“Didn’t think I’d see a grounder mating ritual tonight,” muttered Bellamy as he watched the scene with crossed, disapproving arms. The light spirit he had been in before had obviously been overthrown by his usual brooding nature. Funny that—that his mood only soured after hemade it seem like he was going to…

You know.

I turned towards the crowd, away from him (and his damning muscular arms that bulged impossibly over his chest). “You don’t approve?” I asked flatly. His sudden detachment had pissed me right off. “Everyone,” I addressed the partygoers in a hushed tone only Bellamy could hear, “stop dancing right now. Bellamy Blake doesn’t approve of fun.”

“I didn’t say that,” he countered.

“Then go dance.”

“I don’t dance.”

For the second time that night, I contradicted myself. “Well, I do.”

Now that regained his attention. I could see him staring at me in my peripheral vision.

“Right,” he scoffed. “You’re gonna dance.”

Ouch.

His words struck a chord deep inside me, causing my expression to wilt into something defensive. My arms folded promptly over my chest and I turned to stare him down. “Is it so unimaginable?”

“I just can’t picture you dancing,” he spoke with an arrogant grin, as if his viewpoint originated from the truth and mattered above all else.

It was moments like this one that pushed me to judge whether I should indulge in my attraction to Bellamy. Maybe it was the booze talking, but I really just wanted to slap him across the face. If not literally, then maybe figuratively, by proving him wrong.

I’d had this problem ever since I met him: he would tell me to do one thing, and I’d do the complete opposite; it felt like an unspoken rule at this point. Which led me to my next decision.

My arms dropped to my sides. “Good thing you won’t have to in a minute,” I snapped.

I began making for the bonfire and dancers, each of my curt steps fuelled by spite and a chemically altered brain. I just can’t picture you dancing. Yeah, right. I’d give him something to picture, the smug asshole.

“Hey.” A large hand caught my wrist, pulling me back half a step so I that had to stop.

I shot a fiery warning over my shoulder. Bellamy’s eyes reflected regret and a touch of submission; he knew it had been the wrong move and immediately let go of my arm, withdrawing half a step himself in placation.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he spoke cautiously like I was a spooked animal about to attack. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Well, you did upset me.”

“Princess, I—"

I whirled around on my toes and we came face-to-face (well, face-to-collarbone). The swiftness of my actions must’ve caught him off-guard because he cut himself short mid-sentence and the bulge of his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously in his throat.

The scorching intensity of my gaze was pointed directly up at him now, just daring him to speak another word. He didn’t. His mouth had set into a hard, impenetrable line that represented his oath of silence. It was a smart choice, but, god, he had gotten me so riled up that whether he was smart no longer mattered.

I just couldn’t help myself.

The gap between us shortened as I took a smooth step forward, keeping us connected by the eyes. A challenge in the form of a scornful smile broke across my lips. “No leaning in this time, huh?” I spoke.

Bellamy’s eyes twitched into squints, his jaw clenching in unison. It was strange how he took offence to being called out on something he had done—a common trait in those affected by frequently un-called-out arrogance, no doubt. I’d have to start helping him out with that.

A bomb was ticking beneath his skin and I knew firsthand how short the fuse was. Subconsciously, I think I wanted to blow it. Subconsciously, I think I enjoyed it: the arguing, the tension, the heat. I enjoyed how we knew exactly what set each other off and how intimate knowing such information about one another was. I enjoyed getting in his face and him getting in mine.

I enjoyed the moments when it would become blatantly obvious that the tension between us never originated from a place of hate or malice, but from somewhere deeper, fleshier.

Or was I so impaired that it was really just me?

Thoughts calculated behind his hooded gaze—of hate, of malice, of flesh, I wasn’t sure. And just when I thought he wasn’t going to reply at all, his neck hollowed with a deep inhale, and he leaned down to my height. My heart dropped to an unspeakable place. His breath was hot on the tip of my ear, “Did you want me to lean in?”

I stared at his shoulder, trying to conceal the shiver trickling down my neck and over my breasts and much, much further below. He lingered in place for a half-second longer before returning to full height. Can you guess the shape his lips made as he scanned my perplexed expression? It’s not difficult.

I was going to slap him. Not out of dislike: but because how dare he make me want him so badly? And in front of so many people? And without even knowing that I actually did want him and it wasn’t just the alcohol that was making us both sexually frustrated?

I swear to god I was going to slap him. My hand flexed, but before I could act, the universe made evident that it was on Bellamy’s side.

The sudden bellow of horns signalled a change of song. Our attention was dragged away from one another, turning to the celebratory howls and shouts echoing between those surrounding the bonfire. The flames had exploded to new heights as someone fed more wood to the base. It burned so brightly, so dangerously that if I didn’t know any better, I’d have mistaken it for a god.

The horns vibrated in the air, repeating over and over as more instruments were introduced to create something dark and haunting. Slowly, I began to smile. I knew what I was going to do now, and it certainly wasn’t slapping the smirk off of Bellamy Blake’s face.

“Sorry, Blake,” I voiced over the music. We were looking at each other now; somehow in those ten seconds we were distracted I must’ve sucked him dry of pride and consumed it myself, because I now wore the smirk, and he wore the confusion. One last time, I downed a gulp of my drink and said, “Places to be.”

And then I was gone, heading straight for the crowd of orange-skinned dancers, slick, sweating bodies, and pulsating horns. I’d hoped that last drink would kick in fast, especially if Bellamy’s eyes were to be as vigilant as ever.

part three {to be written}

[sugarushwriting]

reuniting with exotic dancer lee minho aka cat daddy

minho x reader

adult content featured, read at your own discretion

you watched him from afar in the club, not wanting to be a distraction. you wanted to see minho at work, in his element.

you knew if he saw you, you wouldn’t had been able to see him do his job. he’d want to immediately drag you to the back and have his way with you.

and you’d let him.

hips rolling, tongue out, he was feeling himself. and minho was a damn good dancer too.

it’s been only two weeks since your friends brought you here for the first time. two weeks, your mind consumed by lee minho.

cat daddy. an exotic dancer. a male stripper. you had no shame, but what would your parents say?

your eyes twitched as minho took the twizzler from a girl’s mouth whom he was dancing for. she blushed clapping her hands.

but minho didn’t have that twinkle in his eyes like he did when he saw you.

you crossed your legs in anticipation of him noticing you. just a look from him alone can get you to cry a river down below.

you came 2 hours away, no plan, no where to stay, just your bag and mind clouded with images of minho.

your heart raced when minho found you sitting at the bar. he stood up from finishing a dance for a woman, eyes found yours and immediately locked in.

with a smirk, he said goodbye to the women, and stalked towards you.

no words shared he grabbed your hand and led you to the back. same room from last time. once the door shut behind him, he took off the ears, pushing you against the door and kissed you.

your hands wrapped around his neck, his left hand going down to pick up your right leg from under your knee.

the kiss was insane, full of need between you two. “fuck, i missed you kitten.” minho whispered against your lips, before trailing his own lips down your neck, to your exposed shoulder.

you moaned in response, a smile playing on your lips. “i’ve missed you too, cat daddy.” you teased, minho gripping your ass in response.

nose to nose, minho kissed you once more, before walking backwards, tugging you along. he sat on the bed, and pulled you down to straddle his lap.

“what brings you here?” minho asked, loving your scent. he smiled up at you, his fingers teasing at your hips.

“i told you i missed you.” you sighed kissing his lips. “just wanna be near you again.”

“mhm, i get off in twenty minutes , think you can wait that long for me?”

you nodded. “yes.”

“you can stay here and wait—,”

you shook your head with a pout. “i want to watch you work.” you smiled shyly, playing with the tie he wore tonight.

minho smiled proudly. “of course. but don’t get jealous, okay? just doing my job.” he flicked your nose.

“pft,” you scoffed, “never.”

that was a complete and utter lie. soon as you went back out there, minho had one more table to dance for and the lady was not keeping her hands to herself.

her friends egging her on with cheers. minho was being his professional and polite self, allowing it. but you wasn’t going to allow it.

sneaking off, you found a guard and pointed towards the table. from what you read online about this place, the owner was a woman and she took her employees safety and comfort seriously.

you smiled as the table got scolded from the guard, stating touching the dancers were not allowed unless it was a private dance.

minho finished his work, his eyes meeting yours with a toying smile of his own. you weren’t slick of what you had done, but minho wasn’t going to complain.

he nodded towards the back once again, you grabbing your bag to follow him.

“let me go to the dressing room and change. stay here and behave?”

you nodded, following his instructions. he came back out just a few minutes later, dressed in jeans, a dark tee, and a hat sitting backwards on his head.

“you even look handsome in everyday clothes.” you groaned, minho laughing.

“where do you want to go kitten?”

“it’s kinda late, but i’m hungry.”

“i know a good bbq place.” minho grabbed your hand, leading you off.

at the bbq place, you and minho laughed and joked with one another, while he also talked about how became an exotic dancer.

basically it was a bet between he and his friends, he lost, got the job, and ended up loving it.

“is stripping your only job?” you asked, taking a bite of your food.

minho looked at you like he wanted to bite your head off. “dancing.” he corrected and you giggled.

“sorry sir. i mean is dancing your only job?” you teased.

minho laughed, a smirk playing on his lips at you calling him sir. “im a dancer at night and during the day.”

your eyes widened. “you dance during the day?”

“not the same dancing i do at the club.” minho explained as he ate, “i teach different dance classes. occasionally teaching boxing classes as well.”

“where?”

“my friend owns a gym. he works hard to keep kids off the street and occupied.”

you smiled at the twinkle in minho’s eyes. he also explained how he has three cats, all living with his family back home, and that’s where he got ‘cat daddy’ from, a collaboration of his friend bang chan suggesting it.

“oh, so that’s where the name came from.”

“where else could it come from?” he asked, serious.

“oh, uh, well,” you stumbled out, “me and my friends thought it meant something more, mhm, dirty.” you quieted down at the last part.

minho raised his eyebrow and then began laughing in his high pitch giggle. “kitten no. that is not how i got my stage name.”

your face got hot thinking about sana’s innuendo two weeks ago.

“what’s gotten you so flustered?”

you shook your head. “no—nothing. the bbq just starting to get to me.” you lied.

minho smiled at you, loving the way you get so flustered easily. you both finished the dinner in about two hours, just enjoying talking and time together.

“mhm ready to go?” minho asked after paying the bill. you nodded with a smile, knowing what could possibly come next.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

imagine, you on all fours on minho’s bed. your wrists tied together, then tied to his bed frame. your legs spread behind you. you leaned down on your elbows, your arms becoming sore.

“did i say to lay down?” minho asked deeply.

“minho, my arms are tired.” you huffed. and so is your ass, you thought.

“i don’t care.” he bit out. “do as i say kitten.”

you obliged, back to raising on your palms, your wrists becoming sore from being tied.

another slap came to your ass cheeks, probably already burning red against your skin. you screamed out, hoping none of minho’s neighbors or roommates heard you.

although he claimed his roommates were gone for the night, you didn’t believe him. knowing minho just a bit, he was probably even more excited to have his roommates hear you.

“please minho,” you begged.

“please what, kitten?”

“please fuck me. i missed you.” you continued to beg. pleading. the fact he still hasn’t touched you, tortured you.

his fingers plunged into your wet cunt, turned on from the spankings you received. in and out he thrusted, not being too gentle, but making sure not to cause you any pain either.

“so wet from only spankings, kitten? how naughty.” minho teased.

“minho, now is not the time to tease.” you groaned. you were sweaty, horny, needy, and irritated from being horny and needy.

“fine.” minho stated. what you couldn’t see is his smirk on his face, eyes twinkling with mischief. you were so drowned out from need, you hadn’t heard his movement.

you didn’t know his plan until his dick was buried in you, no warning, no easing into it, just full force.

“well that shut you up.” minho chuckled. you gripped the comforter in immense pleasure and relief. it was an awkward position as your wrists were still tied together the frame.

“please untie the wrists minho. please.”

he did. no argument. instead, after he untied, he pulled your wrists together in one of his hands behind your back and began pounding you ruthlessly from behind.

“missed you too kitten.”

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Toto Wolff with wife reader. Feat their son, Jack. Celebrating Merc 1-2 in Las Vegas!!!! What's better than that? Anything. Fluff/suggestive. (Heard they're going out that night celebrating, must be wild party🤭) Thanks!! :))

Las Vegas was a spectacle on any night, but tonight, it felt like the city itself was celebrating Mercedes' one-two finish. It wasn’t just about the race; it was about Toto. Seeing him standing tall and proud, grinning ear to ear as his team flooded the podium, sent a wave of pride through you.

Your son, Jack, tugged on your dress, eyes sparkling as the bright lights of the city reflected in them. “Did you see Daddy up there, Mum? He looked like a superhero!”

You chuckled, ruffling his dark hair. “He’s always a superhero, Jack.”

Now, hours later, you found yourself in the suite, Jack snuggled on the couch with his tablet while you prepared for the night ahead. The air buzzed with excitement as the Mercedes team had gone all out planning a grand celebration.

When Toto stepped out of the bathroom, your heart skipped. He wore a crisp black shirt with the top two buttons undone, sleeves rolled just enough to show off his watch and his strong forearms. He caught you staring and smirked, walking closer to place his hands on your hips.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he teased, voice low. “We still have a party to attend.”

You raised a brow. “Who says I’m looking at you in any particular way?”

He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. “You’re not as subtle as you think.”

A warmth spread across your face as Jack called out from the couch. “Are we going now? I want to see Uncle Lewis and George!”

Toto straightened, laughing as he turned to Jack. “You, my boy, are staying here with the babysitter. Adults only tonight.”

Jack groaned, dramatically falling back onto the cushions. “Fine. But if there’s cake, save me some!”

By the time you arrived at the club, it was in full swing. Music pulsed through the air, and the Mercedes crew was already halfway to a wild night. You spotted Lewis on the dance floor, sunglasses on despite the darkness, while George attempted to pull off moves that made you burst into laughter.

Toto pulled you close, one arm wrapped firmly around your waist. “You look beautiful tonight,” he murmured against your temple.

“I’d say the same about you,” you replied, tracing a finger along his jaw. “But we both know you always look good.”

He tilted his head back and laughed, the sound full and unrestrained. It wasn’t often you saw him so carefree, and it made your heart swell.

As the night wore on, the drinks flowed freely, and the music seemed to take hold of everyone. Toto surprised you by leading you to the dance floor, his movements smooth and deliberate as he guided you along to the beat.

“You’re a good dancer,” you teased.

“I have to keep up with you somehow,” he replied, dipping his head closer until his lips grazed your ear. “Besides, I need to make sure no one else gets the wrong idea about whose wife you are.”

The suggestive edge in his tone made your cheeks flush.

“Possessive much?”

“Always.”

Hours later, when you finally returned to the suite, Jack was asleep in his makeshift fort on the couch. Toto looked at him, his expression softening as he gently tucked the blanket around him.

As you both slipped into bed, he pulled you close, his voice low in the quiet room. “You know, tonight wasn’t just about the team. It was about us. Everything I do, every win, it’s for this. For you and Jack.”

Toto’s sincerity never failed to undo you. You leaned in, kissing him softly. “We’re proud of you, always.”

And in the glow of Las Vegas, with the sound of the city humming below, you fell asleep in his arms, feeling like the luckiest woman alive.

[wcbblife]

You & Me

a/n: finally finished my pazzi draft yall... hope you enjoy

Warnings: kinda nsfw at the end so read at your own risk.

Summary: Paige can't help but get a little a jealous when she sees Azzi with another man. So, she decides to talk to her.

_

Paige knew it wasn’t her place. It really wasn’t.

But she couldn't suppress the ugly feeling tugging at her heart as she watched Azzi double over in laughter while talking to someone—a freshman—from the men’s team. The way Azzi's fingers lightly caressed his bicep to stop the flow of jokes spilling from his lips. The way he smiled at her, letting his other hand land on top of hers.

It was only when Aubrey nudged her shoulder and whispered, "You’re staring too hard, bro," that Paige finally broke out of her trance.

She knew she shouldn’t storm up to them and separate them with a nasty shove to the guy. She knew she should just sit tight and look pretty while the cameras were likely pointed toward her or the dancers in front of her. The nails on her hands were digging into her arm, no doubt leaving marks. She just couldn't tear her eyes away, no matter how hard she tried.

“What?” Paige cleared her throat, suddenly feeling shy. Her tough exterior would only get her so far with her best friend, who knew her too well.

“I said the three-point contest is about to start.” Aubrey snickered, walking away to join the blue team.

“Shut up,” Paige murmured, following closely behind. By the time she got together with her team, Azzi was lost in the sea of white and dark blue, and Paige had no way of knowing if the man was still close to her. She didn’t get any time to sit and think about it, being whisked around to get ready for the contest.

Almost immediately, she hears the sounds of the net swishing and the basketballs hitting the rims. After a bit, her eyes land on none other than Azzi. She watches closely as Azzi makes shot after shot with little to no problem, much to the amusement of the crowd. The smile on Azzi’s face after releasing the last ball makes Paige swoon, and she glances around, hoping that it would help the blood pooling in her cheeks to dissipate.

The only problem is that she sees Azzi moving back to let the next participant go, the man steps up to her, nudging her shoulder, and leaning down due to their significant height difference to whisper something. Paige knows it's a compliment or something along the lines of “I could never do that,” as she watches Azzi’s dimples just barely show.

The feeling gnaws even harder at Paige, causing her to drum her fingers impatiently against her thighs and her jaw to tighten. She can't help but notice how Azzi never moves away, and how they seem to brush against each other every time they sway side to side while waiting for the contest to finish.

Caroline walks up to them and starts a conversation, which—much to Paige’s relief—causes him to move away a bit. Azzi’s eyes move between the two before finally locking onto Paige, who is still staring. Azzi smiles at something Caroline says, licking her lips and fixing her pants, still zeroed in on Paige. This causes Paige’s heart to thrum uncontrollably in her ribcage, even when Azzi’s eyes go back to Caroline and the guy.

It knocks what little patience and focus Paige had straight out of her body.

“Dude! Seriously, how many times do I have to call you to stop gawking?” Aubrey stands in front of her with an incredulous smile. “Make it at least a bit less obvious, will ya?”

Paige lets out a breathy laugh, scratching her head. “I need to get outta here, bro.”

“Tell me about it,” Aubrey jokes back. “Might just walk right on out.”

“Yeah, right. And let Geno scream at us next practice? No thanks.”

Aubrey chuckles. “Hey, I’m not the one desperate to get outta here for their girl—” Paige cuts her off with a light nudge, causing Aubrey to burst into laughter.

“Stop it, dude.” Paige sulks, looking around for Azzi again, feeling her stomach drop at seeing her absent from her last spot.

“Relax. We’ll be done in a bit.”

Paige knew better. She knew it was in her best interest to heed Azzi’s warning of “don’t be so obvious in public.” She knew she should be on her best behavior with so many eyes on them, acting like they were nothing more than friends.

She also knew she shouldn’t feel so stupidly useless and jealous when Azzi talked to someone else because they weren’t officially a thing. They hadn’t slapped a title on it yet.

Ugh, she thought, as she smiled prettily for the group picture, wrapping a friendly arm around her teammates. Paige made a mental note to bring it up at a better time.

“Alrighty everybody,” a woman in the middle of the court chirped, “We’ve officially ended the first night! Make sure you exit in an orderly manner and we hope to see you next year.” The crowd erupted in a mix of cheers and applause as the athletes started making their way out of the court and into the tunnels.

Paige made a beeline to her locker room, hoping to catch Azzi alone, but once she arrived, she found herself alone. One by one, her teammates trickled into the room—courtesy of Nika texting in their chat to meet there—and it wasn’t until Paige actually got up to search for Azzi that she found herself face-to-face with her.

Azzi was giggling when she entered, and Paige let out a breath of relief. Her hands fidgeted, muscles twitching under her skin to reach forward toward Azzi once she met her big brown eyes, but like she had done all night, she held herself back.

Instead, she walked wordlessly into the team huddle, her breath catching a bit as Azzi slotted herself right next to her, wrapping her hands around Paige’s waist. She tuned out the remainder of Geno’s speech as Azzi found the audacity to toy with the stretch band of her shorts, pulling on it. She slipped a finger into the edge of them, and when Paige looked over at her, she was smiling cheekily.

“Alright, now get out of here. I'm tired,” Geno ended his speech, and the girls screamed. Azzi dragged Paige into the team where they all did a short chant before finally walking out of the room.

Finally, they reached a quieter part of the complex. Azzi pulled Paige into an empty room, away from prying eyes.

As they made their way through the tunnels, Paige’s heart raced. The crowded hallways buzzed, and she tried to keep her cool.

Azzi stayed close, their fingers brushing every now and then, sending shivers down Paige’s spine.

She couldn’t wait to get a moment alone with her.

“Azzi,” Paige muttered.

“Yeah?” Azzi's eyes fluttered, looking up at Paige.

“We gotta talk.”

Azzi smirked, “We do?” she teased, stepping closer, her hand grazing Paige's arm. “What about?”

Paige's breath hitched. “You know what about.”

Azzi chuckled softly, leaning in until her lips were mere inches from Paige’s. “You always get so serious,” she whispered, her breath warm against Paige's skin. “Maybe I like seeing you like this.”

Paige's heart pounded, her resolve weakening by the second. “Azzi, please…”

“Please, what?” Azzi’s voice was low, almost a purr. She backed Paige against the wall, her hands sliding up Paige’s sides, sending shivers down her spine. “Please stop? Or please don’t stop?”

Paige swallowed hard, her mind racing. “We need to figure this out,” she managed to say, though her voice wavered.

Azzi’s eyes softened for a moment before the teasing glint returned. “Okay, let’s figure it out,” she said, her tone playful. “But maybe we start with this.”

Azzi pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against Paige’s. “We’ll talk,” she promised, her voice a soft murmur. “But right now, let’s just enjoy this.”

Before Paige could respond, Azzi closed the distance, capturing Paige’s lips in a slow, tantalizing kiss. Paige's world tilted, the kiss overwhelming her senses completely as she melted into Azzi, her hands finally finding their way to Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer.

Paige nodded, her heart racing almost painfully in her chest. “Yeah,” she whispered, a smile tugging at her lips. “Let’s enjoy this.”

Azzi grinned, her fingers trailing lightly up and down Paige’s arms, knowing the blonde liked it a little too much. “You’re so cute when you’re trying to be serious,” she teased. “I can’t help but want to mess with you a little.”

Paige felt a blush creep up her neck. “Azzi, come on…”

Azzi’s smile widened. “What? I’m just having a bit of fun. You like it, don’t you?” She leaned in, her lips brushing against Paige’s ear. “Admit it.” Her fingers slip under the hem of Paige’s shirt, tracing patterns on her skin.

Paige’s eyes fluttered shut, her head tilting back. “Maybe,” she admitted reluctantly.

Azzi’s laughter was soft and warm. “Thought so.” She moved even closer, her body pressing against Paige’s.

Paige tried to steady her breath. “I didn’t like seeing you with that freshman,” She confessed softly, looking away.

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is that what this is about? You were jealous?”

Paige's blush deepened. “Maybe.”

Azzi chuckled, her breath warm against Paige’s neck. “You don’t have to worry about him. He’s just a kid.” Her lips brushed Paige’s ear again. “Besides, I only have eyes for you.”

Paige's heart skipped a beat. “Really?”

“Really,” Azzi whispered, her lips trailing down to Paige’s collarbone. “You’re the one I want, Paige. Always have been.”

Paige’s breath got caught as Azzi’s lips met hers again, more passionately this time. The jealousy, the confusion, it all melted away. This was what she wanted, what she needed. And finally, they were on the same page.

Azzi, feeling the effect she had over Paige, decided to push a little further. “You know,” she murmured against Paige’s lips, “seeing you all worked up was kind of a turn-on.”

Paige’s eyes widened. “Azzi…”

“What?” Azzi’s grin was wicked at this point. “I like knowing no one else can have this kind of effect on you but me.”

Paige’s breath came faster, her pulse pounding in her ears. “You’re unbelievable.”

Azzi’s hand slid lower, making Paige gasp. “Admit it. You love it when I tease you.”

She could barely form words, her thoughts were a mush of everything. “I… I do,” she finally managed, her voice barely a whisper.

"Good girl.”

Paige was helpless to resist, surrendering completely to Azzi. 

[dewdropdinosaur]

Transparent Heart

Human! Alastor x Ghost Reader Summary:Alastor needs a new source of inspiration. Nothing sparks that bloodlust anymore, nothing can satiate the growing desires he has for more and more carnage. One night, while all a party with Mimzy, he meets Y/N. Or does he? The sweet woman seems innocent enough but in reality she is a ghost, a being of chaos gilded by a fasle innocence. His new muse may be undead but it sure sparks some life in him. Warnings: Undead reader, smut, mentions of P in V, Alastor is a warning in and of himself, Demi-sexual Alastor, non-sex repulsed. MNDI, 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Celebrating 500+ followers!! Omg, everyone you cannont imagine my gratitude for this community. I started writing in January and just how much love and support I have recieved is mind-blowing. All of you are freaking amazing and I hope you know I adore you, my lovelies!

Alastor leaned against the dark wall of the burlesque club, his brown eyes scanning the vibrant display of sinful transgression before him, yet feeling none of it. The room pulsed with music, laughter, and the clink of champagne glasses, but none of it stirred him. He should have been thrilled—there were scantily clad dancers twirling and shimmying on stage, Mimzy was in normal form, charming the crowd with her flamboyant flair, and every inch of the room screamed excess. Innocent souls, ripe for the taking. A little southern charm here, a lingering touch there, a knife sliting their throat in a delectable squish that would send shocks of pleasure down his spine. It was a celebration, a riot of decadence that should have made his very soul hum with delight. 

But alas, the radio host. Felt nothing.

Once upon a time, this would have been his kind of night. The heady energy of sin, the delicious tang of chaos, the joy of being surrounded by souls desperate for something—anything—to fill the emptiness inside them. So desperate would they be, to fall into his greedy hands and he would grace them with the gift of death so sweet. It used to fill him with such vigor, such delight, like a fine wine sliding down his throat. But now, it was all just noise. Annoying noise.

The laughter? Grating. The champagne? Flat. The dancers? Nothing more than fleeting distractions. He watched as Mimzy flirted with a particularly tipsy patron, her laughter like tinkling bells, but it was all so... tiresome. 

He tilted his head slightly, and his sharp grin never wavered, but the sparkle in his eyes had dimmed. It was all a game, wasn’t it? A never-ending circus of false joy. No matter how many times he twisted the dance floor or how many souls he swirled into his web, it was all the same. Hollow. 

The feeling had come upon him suddenly a few weeks ago, stuck in a never-ending cycle of ambivalence. Nothing stirred the oh-so-normal bloodlust within his chest anymore. Nothing excited him to enjoy the chase, the screams. 

Alastor’s fingers tapped rhythmically against his glass, his gaze shifting to the stage as the dancers performed their latest number. It was all so… mundane. The bright lights, the glitter, the exaggerated performances—they meant nothing to him anymore. Maybe this is how he died, being a wallflower.

He exhaled softly, his voice barely rising above the cacophony. “Mimzy, darling,” he said, his tone languid, “do you ever get the feeling that all this glorious spectacle is just a bit... tedious?” 

Mimzy, amid her own little charade, paused and shot him a knowing look, her eyes twinkling with a touch of amusement. “Oh, Alastor,” she said, grinning wide. “You sound like you have been alive for centuries? Enjoy a bit of decadence. Pour some whiskey, put on some jazz!”

Alastor’s smile didn’t falter; a shadow passed across his expression. “Maybe that’s the problem, my dear. I’ve danced this dance for far too long.” 

And somewhere, deep in the pit of his chest, a voice whispered: Is there anything left to live for?

In the middle of his mid-but young-life crisis, a soft tap planted itself on his shoulder. His body became rigid, a dangerous flash passing through his eyes at the unwelcome contact. It was not entirely unpleasant, cold and soft. Strange, considering he hated all touch but one could suppose he had too much to drink. 

Alastor turned slowly to face the guilty party, only to find a petite woman standing before him. Pale, no doubt, almost sickly looking if her eyes hadn’t been the faintest shade of amber that brought the only sense of warmth to her face. Her hair was a light blonde, or was it gray? He couldn’t tell. All he knew was that this little pet had imposed themselves—

“If you are done staring, mister, may I continue my question?” 

Alastor blinked, his sharp gaze narrowing slightly. The soft tap had already left a prickling sensation on the back of his neck, and now this woman, audacious and unsettling, dared to speak to him as if he were some mere pedestrian. 

"What question?" His voice was smooth but cold, each syllable wrapped in the chill of his natural cynicism. It wasn’t the first time someone had approached him on a whim, but there was something different about this one. Something off-kilter, like a mismatched note in a song—one that lingered just long enough to be more than a fleeting annoyance.

The woman tilted her head slightly, the pale light accentuating the faint shadows beneath her eyes. There was something about her eyes, too—lifeless but sharp as a hawk’s. She seemed entirely unperturbed by his cold demeanor. 

"I was wondering," she began, her voice soft yet steady, "if you intend to stand like a wallflower all night or become something worth my time?"

Alastor’s eyebrows twitched, and his lips curled into something akin to a grin, though it was closer to a wolf’s smirk than anything resembling warmth. A question like that—drenched in disrespect, a dance with death itself. Was she…playing with him?

“Is that so?” His voice was laced with amusement, yet his eyes remained icy. “And what would a fragile little thing like yourself do with finding me interesting?”

The woman didn’t flinch. Instead, she tilted her head just slightly more, a ghost of a smile appearing at the corner of her lips. “I’ve seen it,” she murmured. “How you find no pleasure in this display around us. It’s no stranger to you and I am not a stranger to it either. I see you come in here and revel every week until recently. Why is that?

For a moment, Alastor was silent. He had heard words like these before, though they usually came from those who lacked any real understanding of the ruthless, visceral nature of existence. But something about her tone, so deliberate, so knowing, stirred something within him. Something deep. Why would someone he had never met, though who apparently watched him, ask such a personal question?

“Well aren’t you a brazen one, my dear. I would suppose, these events have just lost their…usefulness.”

“Oh, because you kill people?” 

He hadn’t expected that at all. How did she know? How could he play this off? A shadow passed over his gaze, darkened as he looked down at the calm woman. She was baffling…but certainly, the most intriguing thing he had interacted with in a while. He hadn’t expected anyone—let alone a delicate little creature like her—to speak with such clarity about the one thing he’d devoted his entire being to understanding: death. But then again, he realized, perhaps this little conversation had more teeth than he’d first assumed. 

Grabbing her wrist discreetly but with a vice hold, he dragged his newfound muse into an empty room on the other end of the club. Throwing her in the room, he assumed her frail stature might cause her to fall, but instead, she simply looked like she floated across the floor. Strange. 

He chuckled, but the sound was dry, devoid of humor. “You’re quite the curious thing,” he said, his eyes glinting as he regarded her more closely. “Now, how does a little thing like you, make such a bold assumption as that?”

“Well, I have seen you,” she replied simply, her gaze meeting his with a directness that was both unnerving and intoxicating. “You are quite clean with it I must say, well, except for the eating part…but then again I guess everyone has their preferences.”

Alastor was taken aback. A brief flicker of something like appreciation passed through his mind, quickly followed by annoyance. Was she toying with him? Was this an act, some mask for her true fragility? 

For a moment, he considered walking away, dismissing her as yet another oddity to forget. But the words she spoke lingered in his thoughts, gnawing at him like a restless hunger.

"What about you, Alastor?" she continued, her voice softening, almost as though she were coaxing him, "Do you fight it? The lack of bloodlust you’re feeling? Or do you surrender to the inevitable?"

Her words hung in the air between them, and the sound of her quiet challenge echoed in Alastor’s mind long after she’d spoken. He exhaled sharply through his nose, irritation flashing across his features. This woman had a way of pushing him in ways he didn’t particularly enjoy. 

And yet…

He growled lowly, stalking up to her with an imposing stance. Just kill her now, kill the witness. All his problems would go away, he could go back to standing on that stupid wall, drinking that flat champagne.

He glanced at her, a flicker of something approaching amusement in his eyes. Or…or he could have the most fun he had in weeks.

 "I suppose I don't have the luxury of surrender," he said, his tone colder now, sharper. "I’ve long since learned that life is more… interesting when you push against its edges. Though, I confess, there’s something rather invigorating about someone who understands the dance with death as well as you do."

She smiled this time a full, knowing grin. “I thought you’d understand,” she said with quiet certainty, leaning closer just enough for him to catch the scent of something oddly familiar—something sharp, like iron or fresh rain. “The world doesn’t stop spinning just because we want to rest. We can’t simply wait for the end to come. Until it gets here. No, Alastor, it’s all about taking it—grabbing hold of that final moment and making it yours.”

At first, Alastor found himself irritated by her relentless inquiries, the audacity with which she wove her words into the space between them. He considered walking away several times, but then, a strange thing happened.

Then, the irritation faded.

The longer they spoke, the more he felt the edges of his personality, drawn out by her words, her very presence. She was no weakling, no frightened soul. No, this woman was a kindred spirit of sorts—a creature of the abyss who spoke the language he had long since mastered.

But he supposed, it had gone on long enough. Even those whom he found mildly amusing had their time to go. And now, this woman had come to hers. Walking over to a desk in the room, he pulled the drawer open with the mask of preparing himself a drink. This was his typical room…to engage in his activities. As the woman faced away from him, staring blankly at the wall with what seemed ignorance, he approached. The blade was hidden deftly behind his back. 

“Well, my dear, as pleasant as this has been, I think it’s time we end this little game of ours.”

Raising the blade to her throat, he made the slice with a quickness that came with practiced ease. 

Only sweet, rich, red blood did not spill from her body for him to lap with reckless abandon. Her head remained intact, the blade leaving no mark. Backing up in mild shock, Alastor’s eyes widened in what he could only call horrific intrigue. How much had he had to drink?!

“Now, that was rather a rude thing to do.” The woman’s head turned…180 degrees, backward facing him. A small smirk painting to face. And then, her body started to float, righting itself to face him fully as he glided in the air to meet him. Her cold and frail fingers came to caress the edge of his cheek with a gentleness that surprised him. 

“Why would you do that to me, Al? I thought we were friends.” The woman….or ghost woman started to shed alligator tears. Her voice was a high-pitched wail that irked him to no end. 

“What…what are you?”

That caused the woman to pause, eyes sharpening as she looked at him with a look so fierce he felt like his own knife had pierced his heart. 

“I am Y/N. I…I am the ghost that lives here.” 

Now that would have caused him to howl in laughter had he not seen the spectacle before him. Y/N….the famed ghost story Mimzy would tell to scare customers into scam ghost tours of the club after hours for an extra buck. But here she was…in the flesh?

“I thought you knew me Alastor. I thought you understood me. Understood the darkness–” Y/N brought her hand back to his cheek, trailing it slowly, even seductively down his chest to the buttons of his vest. He felt a strange pull to the being, confusingly enraptured by her now. The transparent but uniquely cold nature of her touch sent shivers down his spine, in a way he almost did not mind. 

Where had this feeling come from? Had…had his interest in the conversation been actual interest in the woman before him? He usually never felt this way about anyone. Alastor’s lips parted in an attempt to refute his thoughts but nothing came out. 

Y/N’s hand lingered on his chest, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his vest with calculated precision. Her touch was cold, yet there was an undeniable warmth to the way it ignited something in him—something he couldn't name. Alastor's usual composure began to slip, the confident, omnipotent mask he wore trembling in the presence of this woman.

"You always talk about control, Alastor," she purred, her voice an intoxicating melody that seemed to bypass his usual defenses. "But perhaps you’ve never been in a position where control slips through your fingers, like sand... or, more aptly, like time."

Her words struck him like a thunderclap, rattling his thoughts. Time? Had he been so blind, so consumed by the world of his own making, that he failed to see what was right in front of him? He wasn't sure how to answer, only aware that something was shifting, like a piece of the universe slowly aligning to something he couldn't yet understand.

The smile she gave him was a little too knowing, and he hated it. But more than that, he couldn't seem to hate her—an emotion he had learned to master long ago. For a fleeting moment, her eyes softened, not in pity, but in a way that unnerved him. She was dangerous, yes, but there was something else there—a depth, a complexity that tugged at him.

“You look so lost, Alastor,” she whispered, leaning in closer, her breath cold against his skin. “Let me guide you..”

Her hand slid down, brushing against his vest, the tips of her fingers brushing the edges of his buttons, slowly popping them open one by one.  Every movement of hers seemed deliberate, calculated. And yet, as if it was just for him. That he was the sole focus of such tender devotions. 

Alastor swallowed, his mind scrambling to form the words to push her away, to reassert his authority. But instead, something inside him relented. He wasn’t sure if it was the warmth of her presence, the pull of her energy, or the simple fact that for the first time in ages, something made him feel alive.

“You think you know me, don’t you?” he said, his voice low, almost... intrigued. “But I assure you, darling, you know nothing.”

“Then let me learn, Alastor,” she whispered, her lips dangerously close to his ear. “Let me see the darkness you keep hidden. Let me understand what makes you... human.”

The word struck him like a jolt of electricity, and for the first time in a long while, Alastor felt something unexplainable deep in his chest. Was it love? Was it obsession? Or was it the terrifying realization that maybe, just maybe, he could understand her too? 

—————————————————————————————————

Clothes lay discarded on the hardwood floor, Alastor’s suit jacket among the heap. His body pressed her bare one flush to the hardwood floor, her lips continuing their long and languid assault on his own.

 All that remained was Alastor in a white button-up and boxers, his clothed member rutting onto your bare cunt. Moaning into the kiss, her tentatively brought his hands up to find themselves settling at the nape of the Y/N’s neck. Experimentally giving the roots a small tug, a growl emitted from Alastor’s lips, enjoying the way she shivered before him. 

It was almost like her form wasn’t there at all, that her body was transparent. Though, at this moment, he did not question the physics of how he could touch a ghost. 

Laid bare before his hungry eyes and desires, his cock came to be inside Y/N with one thrust; cunt wet and ready for him like it was made for this purpose. Like she was gifted to him by the divine to hold him close in the darkness and relish in his desires. How the serial killer, had come to be with a being who could not be killed. The one thing he could never kill. The irony wasn’t lost on him, though not his main idea at the moment. 

Conceptually, rationally, by all means of logic, Alastor knew it would never work. Except, in this very moment, cock pounding into her wet and inviting cunt, he couldn’t help but pray to whatever power was listening that something would come to fruition. 

Her moans were sweet on his ears, like southern sweetwater molasses taffy. The kinda of stuff you just can’t get enough of. With every rut of his hips into hers, those delicious noises would fall from her parted pale lips. Now, those were the kind of noises he would search for in the middle of the night. Screams, still scream, but those he wrought by giving her the utmost pleasure his mortal form could apply. 

All for her. His little ghost. 

[daydreams-after-dark]

After Dark Master List

all stories are nsfw / 18+

↠Full Fics ↞

Ot8 free use jail cell (incomplete) inspired by the police station skz code.

"What's Your Fanfic Fantasy" (Complete)

Pairing: fem reader + Chan + Jisung // This is an AU story about Chan bringing your fantasies to life... but what happens when boyfriends Chan and Han fall in love with you?

↠Han Jisung↞

Sub police officer Han x con artist fem reader

Hannie wants to play with your ass but you’ve never done this before.

Back in Ten: soft dom CEO Jisung wants you to wear a strap and fuck his ass, after an important function.

Jisung Kinks // after dark hard thoughts

If Han was as small as a barbie doll

fem!Hannie freaky roller skater girl and fem!hannie double pen at a party

Drabble: Can I watch you, Sungie?: posted on my main blog. You come home from work early to find Jisung on your bed fucking himself with a dildo.

↠Bangchan↞

Masterlist Scientist Chan (Chris) x science!subject reader - feat. other members along the way.

↠Minho↞

Male escort Lino x fem birthday girl reader.

Stop Lift Button your work colleague Minho has moved into your apartment. What happens when he jumps in the lift with you.

Star Student Part 1: Pairing: professor/teacher Minho x adult female reader. You put on a show for your hot Professor while he’s trying to teach a class. (This is an adult classroom situation.) (5 min approx read)

Star Student Part 2: Pairing: professor/teacher Minho x adult female reader. Professor Minho makes you stay after class to fix the problem you caused.

Show Mommy: Lee Know dressed as Aunt Lina was doing things to you as you watched him on set. But what happens when you are invited to an after party and accidentally end up in Lee Know's room, and he's still in costume?

Billionaire Lee Minho and his Little Plaything You're at billionaire Lee Minho's extravagant party at some fancy historical manor, where unbeknownst to you he want to make you his "Plaything". Before you know what's happening you find yourself in a room with Minho, Changbin and Hyunjin. Minho has plans for you but he doesn't know you can play games too. Pairing: Lee Know x fem reader, Changbin x fem reader, Hyunjin x fem reader. Word count: 8k approx

Submission: Lee Minho x fem reader. You're billionaire Lee Minho's "plaything", but tonight the tables have turned and he let's you dom him. Approx word count: 3.4k

Ask: Minho face f^cks male!reader 🫠 this was so fun to write 🥵

↠Minsung / Minsung x reader↞

Minsung Saves the Day Minsung x fem reader (5 minute read) You've just been fingered to the brink of orgasm by Chan and Hyunjin in the back of a car, whilst Minho and Seungmin sit up front. Now you've arrived at the club and there's only one thing on your mind.

Behind the Curtain: mean!Han x bratty!reader + helpful!Minho. You tease your boyfriend Han before a show and he's not happy. So he punishes you, leaves you in a needy mess, and sends Minho to look for you. What happens when Minho can't resist your needs?

Kidnapper Clowns: clown!jisung x fem reader + Minho (5 minute read). dark smut // reader is "kidnapped" and tied up in the basement of two men in clown masks. Everything is planned/consensual.

Pretty Little Kitties: Jisung x reader x Minho. Jisung buys you and him matching kitten ears and tails. Minho joins in.

The window across the street: Han x fem aunty Lina x fem reader.

Private Show v.1 minsung x fem!reader | version.1 - you're a dancer at an exclusive establishment where you perform for kpop idols in masks. Minho and Jisung are after a specific kind of private show from you.

Private Show v.2 similar to v.1 but Minho and Jisung are in masks and reader doesn’t know it’s them (or does she?). This version plays out differently to v.1 and is super unhinged.

Minho edges Han

bratty fem!reader, Minsung must punish you

↠3Racha↞

We’ll make it fit: 3Racha Chan x Changbin x reader w/han for 2secs. They want to use her like their little toy. Dp.

3 racha c^m dump: Han asks you to meet him in the corridor at the bar. Bartender Chan and Security Guard Changbin join in.

3racha free use hard thoughts 1/♾️

3racha free use hard thoughts 2/♾️

3racha free use hard thoughts 3/♾️

↠Other Members / Mixed pairings↞

Werewolf chan turns inside you

Massage Therapist Changbin

Good cop Han / Bad cop Minho

Dom Seungmin and Jeongin x fem reader

Who in skz likes anal? ask

Taken: Drabble - Ot8 x gn reader. You’re snatched after work by 8 sexy men and taken to an abandoned warehouse… exactly what you’d paid for.

Middle-aged neighbour Chan and his friends x fem!reader

Skz reaction to you wearing a butt plug

All Stops to Cumville Station ot8, but featuring Minho, Seungmin and Chan

If skz worked at an adult shop what would each member recommend?

Let Daddy Take Care of it chan x hyunjin x fem reader (5 min read) Fem!reader is horny on the way to the club. Chan and Hyunjin help her out with their fingers in the backseat of the car.

After Hours: Felix; personal assistant | You; Corporate Boss. You're a corporate boss, he is your personal assistant. You're his boss by day, but after hours his soft dom side gets you weak.

Sweet Sweet Punishment: Bratty Han convinces you to let him go down on you without permission from Chan and Lino. They punish you both in front of everyone when they get home. features ot8.

Little Deaths (posted on my main blog) ot8 x reader. You’re stranded at a mansion where 8 horny ghosts must pleasure you.

Fuckbois Jilix: thoughts on how they pick you up and take you home.

Fuckbois Jilix version 2

The Sunshine Princesses

Concept: Freeze: gangster boss fem reader x Chan x Hyunjin

Male reader x Han x Jeongin: you’re the meat in this delicious sandwich / dom top Han, Jeongin bottoms for the first time.

Thing dom chan likes to do to you (posted on my main blog)

Who in skz will share you (ask)

↠Fem!skz Universe↞

↪ Enter here

[winchester-fantasies]

Say My Name

Summary: You're in the club getting loose and hoping to get lucky, but Dean has other ideas.

Word Count: 582

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: Jealous Dean, possessive Dean, swearing, allusions to sex, steamy moment between Dean and reader.

Winchester Fantasies' Masterlist

You saw him across the room, his eyes reflecting the lights of the club. You’d both needed some downtime after this last hunt. So you’d gotten all dressed up to go to the club for a night of dancing. You might even get lucky, you’d thought. But Dean being Dean, he just stood on the outskirts of the crowd, never interacting, never moving. But you could feel his eyes on you. He’d been more watchful of you as of late, his gaze never straying too far. You didn’t know the reason for the change but you weren’t going to complain. There was something so incredibly sexy about his stoic vigil, that protective watchfulness that told you nothing would happen to you that he didn’t allow.

You were currently pressed up close to a random guy. You didn’t need a name, you only needed what was currently grinding against your ass. Rando suddenly spun you around, gripping your waist tightly, lips crashing against your own. You were so surprised by his actions that you barely registered the presence behind you.

A strong hand wrapped around your wrist and jerked you away from the kiss and the object of your promising release. You glanced over your shoulder, Dean’s hard stare the only thing meeting your gaze. Rando took a step forward as if to protest the interruption, but with one look at Dean, he thought better of it and instead melded back into the crowd of dancers as Dean hauled you in the opposite direction and out into the starlit night.

“What the fuck?” you clipped, your voice echoing into the silent night.

Dean didn’t answer as he continued walking, you barely able to keep up with his long strides. It didn’t take long for you both to reach the Impala. He hauled you forward and shoved you across the gravel all within a few seconds of one another. Your back thumped against the cold metal of Baby and your eyes widened as Dean stalked towards you, his gaze blazing even in the darkness.

“What was that?” he growled, stepping so close that you were virtually pinned to the vehicle.

“What…what do you mean?” you asked, feigning ignorance, although you knew exactly what he meant.

“Did you enjoy it?” Dean asked, ignoring your question.

Looking up into his eyes, you suddenly felt very vulnerable and small as if he could see every feeling, as if he knew every thought. “I-I don’t know,” you whispered.

He lowered his head until you felt the heat of his skin against your cheek and smelled the scent of his aftershave. You swallowed hard as unexpected emotions welled up and arousal washed over you. “Can make you feel so much better than him,” Dean whispered, his voice dripping with desire. He ran his hand up the exposed skin of your thigh, his fingertips causing goosebumps to rise on your flesh.

Your breath hitched as you felt his lips graze your ear, feathery light. “Say my name,” he demanded, his voice deeper than you’d ever heard it. He picked you up, his large hands coming to rest under your ass. You could feel his very obvious bulge against your core, driving you insane.

“D-Dean,” you stuttered, speaking past your arousal nearly impossible.

“That’s right,” he said, his warm breath ruffling the small hairs at your temple. “My name is the only one that will ever be on your lips when I’m finished with you.”

And with that he took you.

~~~~~~~~~~

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[highinmiamiii]

MONEY POWER GLORY

club owner!joe kessler x exotic dancer

A/N: this piece goes hand in hand with @billybutcherxyou / @foxiewrites and I’s DBF!Butcher series. best to be read alongside their most recent post, so make sure to check that out first. (cw: themes of manipulation, power dynamics, implied threats, and mentions of the adult entertainment industry.) NO USE OF Y/N

summary: Kessler, the sleazy owner of Club Kess, where petal works, dangles promises of fame and fortune, but his intentions are far from pure. Highlighting petal’s willingness to play his game, even as she’s fully aware of the dangers that come with it.

—————

She walks into the dimly lit office at the back of the club, the heavy bass from the music outside thrumming through the walls. Kessler, the club’s owner, sits behind an oversized mahogany desk, a fine Cuban cigar smoldering between his fingers. The air is thick with the scent of smoke and the faint tang of his expensive cologne. His eyes, sharp and calculating, follow her as she approaches, amusement flickering in them.

“Ah, there she is,” Kessler purrs, his voice smooth like honey with an underlying edge that makes your skin crawl if you listen too closely. He leans back in his chair, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he gestures for her to sit. “My favorite girl.”

She offers him a small, confident smile, though there’s a tightness in her chest she can’t quite shake. She’s been working for him for some time now, just barely making enough to have a little extra cash after repaying her father’s debts and getting out of every negative situation. Billy still couldn’t seem to get off her ass. She’s good at what she does, and she’s determined to be more than just another one of Kessler’s showgirls.

Once she had even the slightest taste of financial freedom to splurge on a cute top or take herself out to lunch somewhere nice, she’d never go back to her old life. Her life had been full of losses, wins, failures, and falls.

Kessler’s gaze never wavers as she takes her seat across from him, the leather chair creaking slightly under her weight. He exhales a long plume of smoke, watching her with that same calculated amusement, like a cat playing with a mouse.

“I’ve been watching you,” Kessler continues, his eyes narrowing as he takes a drag from his cigar, the smoke curling around his face like a serpent. “You’ve got something… special. A spark, if you will.”

“You’ve been doing good work, sweetheart,” he says, the endearment slipping from his lips like it’s second nature. His voice carries a certain weight, commanding attention, respect, and maybe even a little fear. “Better than most of the girls who walk through that door.”

Her smile widens just a fraction; the words hit their mark. She’s been craving validation like this—something to tell her that all the hours, the effort, the sacrifices are worth it. The faint praise settles into her bones, stoking the fire she keeps burning inside.

“Well, I aim to please,” she replies smoothly, her voice laced with just the right amount of sultriness. She knows how to play her part, knows what Kessler wants to hear. And she’s more than willing to give it to him if it means getting what she wants in return.

Kessler’s smirk deepens, his eyes glittering with something dark, something dangerous. “That’s why you’re my favorite, baby,” he purrs, leaning forward slightly, his gaze locking onto hers with predatory intensity. “You’ve got the looks, the talent, the drive. Everything a girl needs to make it big. And I’m gonna make sure you do.”

She feels a thrill of anticipation run through her at his words. She’s been chasing this dream for as long as she can remember—the idea of being more than just another face in the crowd, of standing out, of having everything she’s ever wanted. Money, power, glory. The trifecta that’s kept her going through every hardship, every setback.

“A-anything, Mr. Kessler,” she says, her voice almost a whisper, leaning in slightly as if she’s afraid to miss a single word. “Tell me what I need to do.”

Kessler’s smile is almost fatherly as he leans back in his chair, taking another drag from his cigar. He likes this part—the moment they’re fully under his spell, ready to do whatever it takes to make his promises come true. He’s seen it a hundred times before, but there’s something about her that makes it all the more satisfying.

“It’s simple, really,” he says, his tone almost conspiratorial. “You just keep doing what you’re doing, baby—keep turning heads, keep bringing in the crowds. Make them want more of you, make them crave you. And when the time is right, when you’re ready, we’ll take that next step.”

He pauses, letting the words sink in, watching as her eyes widen just a fraction, her breath catching slightly in her throat. He’s got her, and he knows it.

“What next step?” she asks, her voice hushed, almost afraid of the answer.

Kessler’s smirk returns, sharper this time. “Movies, baby. Real stardom. You’ve got a face for the camera, and I’m gonna make sure you get there. But you have to trust me, follow my lead. Do that, and you’ll have everything that pretty little heart o’ yours desires.”

She bites her lower lip, a move she knows he finds irresistible, playing into the moment. It’s all she’s ever wanted to hear—the promise of something more, something bigger than the life she’s been living. Dealing with her asshole of a father and his gambling debts, instead of living the life of a normal girl her age, she was working the pole at Club Kess. She’s come too far to turn back now, and Kessler knows that. He’s got her wrapped around his finger, and she can’t even bring herself to care.

“I trust you,” she says, the words coming out easily, as if they were always meant to be spoken. “I’m a big girl, I can take it,” she adds cheekily.

Kessler chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends a shiver down her spine. He reaches out, brushing a thumb across her cheek, the touch as possessive as it is comforting.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice rich with satisfaction. “Stick with me, baby, and I’ll make sure the whole world knows your name.”

She feels her heart pound with a mix of fear and excitement. She’s heard the rumors, knows what happens to the girls who fall out of Kessler’s favor, but she’s convinced it won’t happen to her. She’s different. She has to be.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his gaze locking onto hers with predatory intensity. “You want more than just the dance floor. You want to be a star.”

The word hangs in the air between them, heavy with unspoken promises. She can feel the pull, the allure of everything she’s ever wanted, dangling just out of reach. But there’s a part of her, the smart part, that knows there’s always a catch when someone like Kessler is involved.

“I do,” she admits, keeping her voice soft, almost vulnerable, knowing that’s what he’s looking for. “But I know it’s not easy. I’m willing to work for it.”

Kessler’s grin widens, and for a moment, she can see the wolf behind the businessman. “That’s what I like to hear, sweetheart,” he says, his tone oozing with false sincerity. “You’re different. I see big things in your future. Movies, magazine covers, hell, maybe even your own show one day.”

The flattery is relentless, and she finds herself nodding along, even as a small voice in the back of her mind tells her not to fall for it. But it’s hard not to, especially when he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

The words are intoxicating, and for a moment, she lets herself believe them. But then Kessler’s gaze hardens, just for a split second, and she catches a glimpse of the man behind the mask—the one who’s willing to destroy anyone who doesn’t play by his rules.

“But remember,” he adds, his tone shifting to something colder, more menacing, “this business is tough. It chews up the weak and spits them out. You keep up your end of the bargain, and I’ll keep up mine. But cross me… and, well, I’m sure you know what happens to girls who get on my bad side.”

She forces herself to smile, to play along with his game. “I won’t disappoint you, I promise,” she says, her voice smooth as silk, hiding the unease coiling in her gut.

“Good girl,” he replies, the smirk returning as he leans back in his chair, satisfied. “Now, go out there and show them what you’re made of. Got big plans for you.”

She nods, offering him one last smile before she turns.

As she’s about to leave, Kessler’s voice cuts through the lingering haze of cigar smoke. “Actually—hold on a sec, baby,” he drawls, his tone smooth but with an edge that halts her in her tracks. She looks over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

Kessler reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out an old Polaroid camera, the kind that spits out instant photos with a soft mechanical whirr. He holds it up, a sly grin spreading across his face. “One more thing before you go. Gotta get a picture to go with the others, yeah? Keeps things personal, keeps us close.”

She hesitates for a moment, feeling a strange twist in her gut. This wasn’t part of the usual routine, but then again, Kessler always liked to blur the lines. “A Polaroid?” she asks, forcing a light tone, though she can’t keep the edge of suspicion out of her voice.

Kessler chuckles, but it’s a low, menacing sound that sends a shiver down her spine. “Just for the collection,” he says, as if that explains everything. “A little keepsake for me. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.”

The unease deepens, but she can see the challenge in his eyes, the unspoken command. He wants her to trust him, to play along. And if she refuses, if she makes a scene, she knows what that might mean for her future here.

So, she swallows her discomfort and flashes him her best smile, the one she reserves for customers she’s trying to impress. “Of course, Mr. Kessler,” she says sweetly, stepping closer to the desk.

Kessler’s grin widens as he raises the camera, the lens glinting in the dim light. “Say cheese, darling.”

She hears the click, followed by the whir of the camera spitting out the photo. Kessler catches it before it hits the desk, holding it by the edges as the image slowly develops.

She forces herself to stay calm, to keep that practiced smile in place, even as Kessler’s gaze flicks between her and the photo with a predatory glint. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, more to himself than to her, before he slips the photo into his desk drawer, locking it away.

“Alright, baby,” he says, his tone returning to that of the smooth-talking club owner. “You go on now. Remember, I’m watching.”

She nods, mutters a soft “thank you,” and finally makes her exit, feeling the weight of his gaze on her until she’s out the door. As she steps back into the dimly lit hallway, the thumping bass from the club outside washing over her like a wave, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s just crossed some invisible line, one she might not be able to step back from.

But she pushes the thought aside. This is what she wanted—what she needed. If playing Kessler’s game was the price she had to pay for her shot at fame and fortune, then so be it. She’d play, and she’d win.

Because she knew one thing for sure: in this world, you either play the game or get played. And she wasn’t about to let herself become just another one of Kessler’s pawns.