#a man with long hair and black nail polish?

[miradelletarot]

I just imagined Gale with black nail polish and I -

There are two things all the BG3 party men have in common:

They would paint their nails black (and look good with it)

Mental illness

[rafesproperty]

A whole day of Rafe spoiling his precious gf... 💕

» masterlist

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You woke up not feeling like your usual self, it's been a long time since you've done something with your hair or went to get your eyebrows done, sticking to basic skin-care for a while now.

Best bet Rafe is not gonna let your quiet "I feel like shit," slide, he asks why, baffled because to him, you're the hottest girl in the world, but gets out of bed anyway, telling you to get dressed and tell him where you want him to take you first as he's cancelling his business meeting for today.

You're chuckling as he's driving you to your favorite place to get your eyebrows waxed and get an eyelash lift (he doesn't really know what that is... but anything to make his girl happy), he sits down in the waiting room and deals with some e-mails while you follow the nice lady inside. She waxes your eyebrows and chats with you while she works on your eyelashes, complimenthing their length.

Rafe gives you a smile when you walk out and wink at him multiple times, showing off your lashes, your mood being a lot better already. He wraps his arm around your waist, squeezing you gently as he pays the lady with his black card, leaving a tip for being so nice to his precious baby.

He drops you off at your favorite hair salon, knowing damn well hair will take a lot of time and no chance in hell he's gonna sit around. "Get anything you want baby, alright?" He hands you his card and kisses you on the lips, loving to see you so giddy and excited.

You end up getting a hair cut, new layers and a new fresh color, not too drastic of a change but noticable enough to make you feel so much better. Your hair looks amazing, it always does leaving the hairdresser, so smooth and healthy, bouncy and they always give you the perfect blow-out. You already feel confident walking over to Rafes car.

"Hey there," he mumbles and hands you a cup of coffee that he got you on his way here and wraps a strand of your hair on his finger, smirking. He's so wrapping your new hair around his hand tonight... "lookin' gorgeous," he mumbles and you lean in to give him a kiss.

"Thank you, Rafey." "Mhm," he mumbles and pulls you closer, making out with you for a worth while.

He finally pulls away after a moment, his lips all puffy from how much you kissed him, and he runs his hand through your hair, not able to stop touching it. "Wanna get your nails done?" He asks, ready to provide anything you want today.

"Yeah," you blush, still a bit shy to ask for something from him. "Wanna pick the color for me?" "Mhm, sure." He taps your thigh when he starts driving, thinking about it for a moment.

"Blue?" "I knew it," you chuckle. "How?" "Guys always pick blue," you giggle again and he frowns, not happy with that. He won't be like guys, so he grunts and suggests red and white, proud of himself that he picked two colors. He loves you in red anyway. Fuck blue.

Rafe tells you to go ahead and that he'll be there before you're done.

You are treated so nicely at the salon, the guy doing your nails offers you wine, the place smells so nice, clearly luxurious, their chairs are covered in red velvet, comfy. You are almost done with your set when Rafe walks in, a little bag in his hand, walking over to you and looking at your nails over your shoulder, kissing the top of your head and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, holding you and allowing you to rest your chin on his arm as you to lean into him, clearly getting the need to show off that you're his girlfriend the second he saw the guy.

"You like them?" You look up at him and show him your free hand, Rafe kisses your knuckles gently, avoiding the fresh nail polish. "Mhm, love them baby." He whispers and you notice the man doing your nails straightening. Rafe stays there like a guard dog, his arm wrapped around your neck and shoulders the entire time.

He pays for you, holding your hand and brushing his thumb over your knuckles as you both leave.

"What'cha got there?" You giggle, leaning over him to steal a look at the bag but he shushes you and pulls you away by your waist, his grip so firm it sends shivers down your spine. "Don't be noisy," he smirks and you scoff, which earns you a squeeze on your hip.

The sun is setting when he leads you to his car again, you smile and just pull on his hand. "Rafe," you stop him for a second and he turns around, worry evident in his eyes. "Yeah? What's wrong?" His hand cups your face immediately and you just admire how pretty he looks in the golden hour.

"Nothin’, just... thank you." You smile up at him and he grins, pulling you closer. "Anytime, princess." He purrs softly and leans down to kiss you. You once again make out for a while, his hands roaming your hips and yours wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

He wanted to wait a little, but you also look stunning to him right now, looking up at him with your big eyes like he’s your entire world, so he rolls his eyes playfully and offers you the bag, kissing your forehead. “Open it.”

“For me?” You place your hand on your chest dramatically and he bites your cheek in return, eager for you to open his gift.

You pull out the small box, opening it and you stare at the silver bracelet covered in gems and heart detailing. “It’s… wow,” you breathe out, taking it into your hand and taking a proper look, some of the diamonds reflecting the sun.

Rafe smiles and gently takes it from your hand to put it around your wrist, taking a look at it in the sun himself once he does so. “Thank you, baby.” You finally say, looking up at him with watery eyes. What did you ever do to deserve him?

“I love you,” he huffs and leans in for another kiss, this one gentle, soft, slow. You kiss him back, holding his face between your hands.

“I love you too. So, so much.” And Rafe’s just happy to hear that, happy to be the provider and to be appreciated for it. It’s all he needs back from you.

You don't ask him for anything else, but you notice that he's driving in a different direction than Tannyhill. “Where are we going?" You ask as you lean into the seat.

"Gettin' you new clothes, baby," he mumbles as if that's the most obvious thing in the world and you want to refuse but he gives you this look that clearly indicates his mind is already made up and you're not doing anything about it.

You walked around the mall, trying all sorts of skirts and dresses, and Rafe followed behind you, usually dragging you into the more expensive stores 'cause you wouldn't go there yourself.

He got you some tops and skirts but you were still looking for a dress you’d like enough.

He liked you in anything, so he said you should get whatever you were currently trying on, but you just chuckled and said no. He honestly loved it, what a great idea to have a treating my favorite person in the world day, he could just sit down and stare at your body over and over again as you tried on different stuff.

"I love this," he mumbled as he got up, not resisting the urge to wrap his hands around you when you tried on a tight velvet dress with a slit at your thigh, "you look so fucking hot," he exhaled and kissed your neck gently, nibbling and brushing his teeth against your skin.

"Mhm," you arched your back, leaning into him and he let out a quiet groan. "We're gettin’ this one." He decided and you giggled, nodding, taking it off, but Rafe stepped in front of you. "Wait, lemme help," he mumbled, eager to get it off you later again. He helped you strip, grabbed the dress and another sun dress you tried on earlier that he loved as well.

You wrapped your hand around his bicep, yawning when you finally left the mall and made your way over to his car for the last time today. Rafe chuckled and placed your bags in his car before opening the door for you. "Tired from doin' nothin', baby?" He teased you and leaned over the car door to kiss you before you got in.

"Tryin’ on clothes is exhausting, you know?" You joked back and he grinned.

"Wanted to take you to dinner, but—“ "Rafe I'm really tired," you said softly, still grateful for the thought.

"I know, me too," he grabbed your hand into his. "We'll grab food on our way, yeah? What are you feelin'?”

"Dunno," you mumbled and closed your eyes, your hand playing with his fingers. "Chinese?" "Alright," he agreed and grabbed the food in a drive through and finally drove you both back to Tannyhill.

You both sat down on a couch to eat and let some random sitcom play in the background. The second you both finished your food you were on his lap, straddling him, kissing him passionately and running your new nails over his skin, feeling how he shivered under your touch.

"Thanks, Rafey," you said again, grateful that he made you feel so loved. "Anything for you, m'lady, okay?"

You chuckled at the nickname, kissing him again, running your nails over his chest and tugging at his shirt, earning a groan from him.

[luminiamore]

sweet.

(universe)

warnings: kento being oblivious, gojo flirting with reader (3sum in the near future), jealous reader, soft sex, mirror sex, heavy praise, bare with me noww, this isn’t directly related to part one but it is from the the same universe. im temporarily back lols, enjoy!

for the first time ever in your life, you find yourself filled with jealousy. over a man. the realization is like a poison you can’t shake off, sitting uncomfortably in your chest. you decide then and there that you don’t like this feeling at all. far from fond of the way your blood boils, the way you feel an almost primal urge to fight another woman—over him. your glossed lips crinkle into a nasty scowl as your ears hyper-fixate on the sound of her obnoxiously high-pitched laughter. he wasn’t even that funny.

you swear your eye twitches when she trails her manicured nails down his shoulder, her movements slow, deliberate, teasing. she’s not ugly—not even close. you can admit that. but you’re by no means insecure. in fact, you’re painfully aware of how stunning you look tonight. still, the thought burns: why isn’t he pushing her away?

they clearly know each other; this is a business work event, after all. a secretary, maybe? his assistant? your mind races trying to place her, but no name or face comes to mind. kento never mentioned her before. you would know—he tells you everything about his long, draining work days. he’s also so precise in recounting every detail, you’re there to listen to them as you massage his scalp.

you distinctly remember names like leiri, suguru, utahime. even that guy, gojo. he talks about him the most, despite how much he apparently irritates him to no end.

but this woman? her perfectly styled red hair, the way she clings onto his words like gospel- she’s a mystery. one he conveniently forgot to mention in his stories.

is this why he invited you? to watch him let another woman touch him, laugh with him, lean into him in ways that make your stomach twist?

his face bears his signature stoic expression as he speaks to her, but you can’t unsee the way he smiles occasionally. even the small, intimate gesture of fixing the strap of her dress has your jaw clenching.

kento is a gentlemen, you know this. but does he really have to display it like this? with each passing moment, your heart sinks further, the pit in your stomach growing heavier. it’s sickening.

you’re too pretty for this.

especially tonight, with your strapless light pink bubble dress that hugs your waist like a second skin, sculpting you into a vision of perfection. every step you take, every slight movement sends your high, sleek barbie ponytail swishing behind you in defiance, like a crown that refuses to let you forget who you are.

your makeup is immaculate: fluttery lashes that make your eyes impossibly doll-like, catching every flicker of light, and a soft blush dusting your cheeks, enhancing your angelic glow.

you weren’t brought here to be ignored.

yet here you are, simmering with jealousy, your perfectly manicured white nails digging into your palm as you stare them down from across the room. this won’t do. you weren’t dressed to perfection to be overlooked. not by him.

it seems your prayers were answered, faster than expected too. gojo sauntered toward you with the kind of confidence that bordered on arrogance. his snowy hair was nicely tousled, as though it was styled enough just enough to look effortlessly undone. a smug grin was already plastered across his no doubt beautiful face.

the air seemed to shift around him. his tailored black suit hugged his tall frame perfectly, the satin lapels catching the low, golden light. the collar of his crisp white shirt was left slightly undone, offering a subtle glimpse of pale skin beneath. polished black oxfords clicked softly against the floor.

you hadn’t even noticed him at first—too busy glaring daggers into the back of the redhead currently stealing your kento’s attention. but the moment gojo entered your periphery, the energy changed. this time in your favor.

he was impossible to miss as he approached you where you sat in the middle of the bar. he could sense your simmering frustration from across the room—no doubt about your date letting another woman throw herself on him. and of course, decided to intervene.

“is this seat taken, or should i just assume this drink is for me?” his voice was smooth, too easy.

he leaned against the high barstool you occupied, one arm resting on the polished surface of the bar while the other toyed with the edge of your untouched glass. his tone carried a playful lilt as if he’d already decided the answer didn’t matter—he’d stay regardless.

your brows knitted together in confusion as you turned to face the source of the bold interruption. your pretty glossed lips, which had been set in an irritated scowl mere moments ago, softened and shifted into an involuntary pout

your voice, smooth yet edged with a hint of incredulity, carried the weight of your surprise as you spoke, “um, excuse me?” the words hung in the air as you tilted your head ever so slightly.

the moment he spoke, you recognized him. the confident, almost cocky grin, paired with that signature tousled white hair—it was unmistakable. gojo satoru.

“didn’t mean to startle you, doll,” he said, his voice low. he motioned toward your drink, still untouched, the ice inside barely melted. “this drink is still full, and from where i’m standing, you look like you could use some company.”

he paused, his gaze locking with yours, his smirk growing ever so slightly. “but if you prefer the solitude… i can always grab my own drink.”

his words lingered in the air, but you couldn’t help but notice the challenge behind them, the underlying invitation. he was perfectly at ease, as if this were just another conversation.

you blinked at him, momentarily taken aback by his audacity. the corner of your mouth twitched into a small smile as you tilted your head again, batting your long lashes. “and you are…?”

you asked, drawing out the words with just the right amount of innocence, pretending you didn’t already know exactly who he was.

as of his smirk could stretch even wider, gojo’s gaze sharpens with amusement. kento had mentioned you before— you’re like a doll, a fragile, perfect little thing. and god, was he right. you were exactly what he painted, even more striking in person if he was honest.

your brown skin caught the light in the most mesmerizing way, a subtle shimmer that seemed to radiate with every movement you made. it was as though your entire being was illuminated. every curve and contour of your body glowing with a soft, ethereal radiance. to him, you weren’t just beautiful, but something more—almost otherworldly, like an angel walking among them.

his eyes flickered from your drink, still untouched, and then back to you, his gaze slow and deliberate. he took in every detail, memorizing your every move. the subtle pout on your glossy lips, that almost imperceptible shift in your posture, and the way your eyes glimmered, measuring him up.

he couldn’t help but wonder—how could kento leave you alone like this?

his voice smooth as honey, “gojo satoru. maybe kento’s told you about me? he’s mentioned you a bunch of times.” he pauses, letting the words hang in the air for a moment longer than necessary.

if you’re surprised, you don’t show it. you keep that perfect, aloof air about you, your gaze never once wavering from his.

“but don’t worry,” the white haired man continued, that stupid charming grin still there. “i’m not here to step on his toes. just thought i’d say hello to the beauty he left alone tonight.”

he’s flirting with you. there’s no mistaking it. the playful tone in his voice, the way his eyes linger on you, all of it signals the intention behind his words.

you can feel a warmth crawl up your neck, a subtle thrill coursing through you at the sudden attention. it’s a spark igniting within you, something you only felt with kento. you try to hold back, but your lips betray you, curving into a small, involuntary smile.

for a split second, your gaze shifts over to kento. your heart skips a beat when you find him already looking at you, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch. his gaze feels like a weight, heavy and unyielding, pressing against your chest. it’s hard to pinpoint exactly what it is—anger, concern, or something else entirely.

it’s the kind of look that makes you feel exposed. he’s dissecting every tiny movement, every flicker of emotion crossing your face. despite his distance from you.

you quickly tear your eyes away from kento, a twinge of guilt flooding your chest as you force your attention back to gojo. his playful gaze never wavers.

“something the matter, doll?” he asks, his voice light, but the tone betrays an undercurrent of amusement.

you finally respond, your voice a little breathier than you intended, and a warm flush creeps up your neck, coloring your cheeks. “he talks about me? i didn’t really think he was the type to gossip.”

you’re still processing the idea of kento mentioning you to someone like gojo. he talks as if he despises the man, always with a hint of irritation and sometimes even disgust. as if even mentioning his name leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

you always assumed the two were at odds, maybe even enemies of some kind with how often he complains about how insufferable he can be.

a deep chuckle fills your ears, it’s like the sound of a well-aged wine being uncorked. “oh, he’s not,” gojo starts. “but trust me, when it comes to someone like you, he can’t help himself.”

his eyes flicker to kento for just a moment, his gaze lingering briefly, before it’s back on you, “i can see why, though,” he adds, his lips curling into a knowing smile. “you’ve already got me hooked on you.”

his way of nonchalance is almost unsettling. doesn’t he know how territorial kento can get? or does he just not care?

you glance over at kento again, his expression unreadable, but the slight tension in his jaw betrays his quiet disapproval.

“you’re not worried about kento?” the question slips from your lips before you can stop it, your voice barely above a whisper, though you’re not sure whether you’re asking gojo or yourself. it feels strange to voice it aloud. you’ve always thought of kento as someone who would take any threat to his control seriously, and here gojo is, flirting with you in plain sight, with no hesitation.

“worried? about him?” he grumbles, “trust me, doll, kento’s a big boy. i’m not sure if i’m the one he need to worry about.”

what did he mean by that? you’re still processing his words, but as gojo holds your gaze, that familiar feeling of being seen—really seen—creeps up on you. it’s unnerving, but you don’t want him to look away somehow.

for a moment, the room around you fades as you focus solely on the man before you. it’s crazy how easily he’s made you forget about everything else. you want to respond, to call his bluff, but something about how intense he is stops you. instead, you simply blink.

before you can even begin to gather your thoughts and formulate an answer, a heavy hand lands on your shoulder. you feel a warmth run down your spine. that scent—woodsy, with a hint of something clean and crisp—fills the air around you.

your breath catches in your throat slightly and without needing to look, you know it’s him. the very essence of kento’s controlled demeanor has momentarily broken the charged bubble that gojo created between you two.

you glance over your shoulder, and there he is—kento, standing tall, stoic, his usual composed self. his sharp eyes lock onto gojo with an unreadable expression, though there’s a subtle tension in his jaw, the only giveaway of how he’s truly feeling. his presence towering over you in a way that feels protective—if not a little possessive.

gojo, however, doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. in fact, he leans back into his seat, his grin widening into something more smug, as if this is exactly what he’s been waiting for.

you can feel the heat of both men’s attention on you now. what is happening?

kento’s voice breaks the silence, cool and measured, like he’s carefully weighing his words.

“gojo,” he starts, his eyes still locked onto the white-haired man. his hand on your shoulder shifts slightly, he’s trying to keep a lid on whatever’s simmering beneath. “if you’re done with your little game, i think it’s time for you to let her breath a little, hm?” he doesn’t look at you as he talks.

gojo is savoring this moment. “what game?” he replies smoothly, raising an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this more than he probably should. cerulean eyes flickering between the two of you, “i’m just saying hello to the beauty you ditched tonight.”

“you’ve said your hello, and now it’s time for us to leave,” kento says flatly, a hard edge to his tone. his grip on your shoulder tightens just a fraction, a silent cue that he’s ready to move things along—away from gojo, away from whatever this is.

before you can process it fully, you make a sound—a soft, almost instinctive protest. it escapes before you can stop it, you don’t want to leave yet.

you were just starting to enjoy yourself. the night had only just begun to shift into something fun—why does he get to bask in the attention of someone else but when it comes to anyone showing interest in you, it’s time to go? that’s not fair.

gojo, ever the perceptive one, picks up on the subtle shift in your energy almost immediately. the way your body tenses, the slight flicker of uncertainty in your eyes as you glance back and forth between him and kento.

“i don’t think the little doll here wants to leave,” gojo comments, his voice dripping with a teasing drawl.

kento barely flinches at gojo’s remark. without missing a beat, his expression hardens just slightly, and he steps fully into your space. “we’re leaving. now,” kento states, his tone leaving absolutely no room for argument.

you open your mouth to protest, the words forming on your lips, but before you can voice them, kento’s gaze sharpens, and the intensity of it pins you in place. your protest dies in your throat.

gojo, watching this exchange, can’t help the intrigued look that tugs on his entire face. there’s something interesting about how easily kento exerts control over you, how effortlessly he can shut you down with just a look. it makes gojo wonder—would you react the same way to him? would you let him dominate the space between you, take charge and make you follow his lead like kento does?

a flash of something darker flickers in gojo’s gaze and another flicker of curiosity about what it would take for him to have that kind of influence over you.

you stand from your seat, your so kate heels clicking against the marble floor. you move reluctantly, and gojo watches every step, his eyes never leaving you.

when you glance up and send him an apologetic look, something in him shifts. you look almost delicate in that moment and then something twitch in his dress pants. the very idea of you stirs a response in him that he can’t quite ignore. he doesn’t want to.

“hey, don’t look so sorry, doll,” gojo murmurs, leaning forward just a little, his gaze fixed firmly on kento, his eyes sharp with that unrelenting amusement. “i’m sure i’ll see you again, sooner than you think.”

his presence lingers in the air, like an invisible thread pulling at you, even as you turn away. you know, without a doubt, that his eyes are still on you as you step out and kento opens the door for you, that ever-present smirk never leaving his face as he takes a sip from the drink you left.

the ride back to kento’s penthouse is suffocatingly quiet. the hum of the car is the only sound in the air as the night wraps around you both. your body is turned as far away from him as you can manage, trying to press yourself into the cool, unyielding door as if putting distance between you two will somehow ease the frustration you feel.

the silence grows heavier before kento finally speaks. his voice is low, careful, like he’s trying to gauge your reaction.

“you seem upset,” he starts, the words almost too casual, too calm. “care to tell me why?”

there’s a sharp edge to his tone, barely noticeable but enough to let you know he’s waiting for something—some kind of explanation, maybe.

you don’t give him the satisfaction of a response. you keep your gaze fixed on the window, the lights of the city blurring past as if you’re not even there.

kento’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning white as his gaze flickers over to you. his patience thinning, but he tries to keep himself calm, measured as he speaks.

“are you upset with me?”

you remain silent, your gaze fixed out the window, refusing to acknowledge him. but this time, the silence isn’t enough for him. he sighs—deep and almost tired.

“is there a reason why you were letting gojo satoru flirt with you?” his voice is low.

you don’t give him any silence this time. without missing a beat, you turn slightly toward him. your voice uncharacteristically sharp, “is there a reason why you were letting some redhead throw herself on you?”

he knows exactly who you’re talking about—the redhead, his secretary, the one who had been working under him for a while now. honestly, he hadn’t thought much of her beyond the occasional brief interaction. to him, she was just another colleague, someone he’d see around the office now and then, exchanging pleasantries and handling basic tasks.

but hearing you mention her like this makes him pause. was she really throwing herself at him? kento, though sharp in many ways, was infamously dense when it came to detecting romantic interest.

he’d never picked up on the subtle hints or the flirty undertones that others would easily recognize. he’d always just chalked up her attentions as professional, after all he is her boss.

“were you jealous, sweetheart?” he can’t help but take the opportunity to tease you. and despite how frustrated you are, you still shy away from his words. your kento always had that effect on you. jealous? no way.

you quip, “no! not jealous. it’s just weird that you never told me about her, that’s all.”

he watches as you look away, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. there’s something about the way you try to brush it off that only makes him want to poke at you more. he’s used to you being a little oblivious, and honestly, he finds it kind of endearing.

“mm, is that so?” he muses, “it’s weird that i didn’t tell you about her?” his eyebrow raises, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. “and here i thought you wouldn’t be interested in a measly secretary.”

to kento, when he’s describing his day to you, he only feels the need to mention the important things. why would he ever need to mention someone as insignificant as a secretary?

but he’s not done yet. his gaze softens, and there’s a small, almost tender shift in his expression as he watches you carefully. you almost forget that you two were still on the road. “you really don’t think i’d keep something like that from you on purpose, do you?”

you hesitate, your lips parted for a moment before you mutter, “don’t know.”

a slight chuckle escapes as if to reassure you that it was never anything worth mentioning. you know kento wouldn’t lie to you, and his tone conveys that sincerity. he’s just not the type to complicate things with unnecessary details.

he watches you, eyes soft but intrigued, as he can tell you’re battling what to do in that pretty little head of yours. it’s a look he’s grown used to, and, strangely, he finds it oddly charming. the way you’re focused on him, trying to process everything he says, more concerned with the things you don’t quite understand than with anything else.

it’s a kind of sweetness he doesn’t even realize he’s craving.

you finally make it to his home, a sleek, minimalist penthouse that mirrors kento’s composed demeanor. the dim lighting casts a soft glow across the space, highlighting the clean lines and neutral tones of the decor. the subtle scent of his cologne still lingers in the air as he leads you through the entryway.

his hand never leaves yours, his firm grip guiding you effortlessly up to his top-floor suite. you follow him without question, your heels clicking softly against the polished marble floors. the weight of the evening settles over you, and you don’t dare speak—not because you’re afraid, but because you don’t know what to say.

your thoughts drift, circling back to the restaurant, to gojo, to the way kento’s jaw had tensed ever so slightly when he saw you exchanging words with the white-haired man. the memory sends a flush of heat to your cheeks, but you push it aside, grateful that kento hasn’t brought it up again.

you almost let yourself relax, eternally thankful that he didn’t press further—didn’t question why you hadn’t pushed gojo away or why you seemed so unsure in the moment. maybe he understood that you were caught off guard, or maybe he simply chose to spare you the embarrassment of having to explain yourself.

he leads you into his bedroom, the expansive city skyline visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. the silence between you feels as if kento is giving you space to collect yourself.

you don’t dare look at him directly, instead letting your gaze wander over the room. you can feel his presence behind you, steady and unwavering, and you know he’s watching—assessing you in that quiet, observant way he always does.

still, he says nothing about gojo, and you’re not sure if that makes you feel relieved or unsettled.

however, kento isn’t the type to let something like that slide—not because he’s angry, but because he’s curious. intrigued. at the way you didn’t immediately recoil from gojo’s teasing, the subtle way your lashes fluttered and your lips quirked, had left a faint, simmering heat in his chest.

it wasn’t jealousy, not entirely, at least. it was way more complicated than that.

he watches you for a moment as he helps you undress. he starts with your heels, carefully pulling them off as his hand rests on your soft ankle. his look is sharp, like he’s carefully dissecting the situation.

you’re so sweetly oblivious to the weight of his business partner’s attention and how you seemed to react to it. kento isn’t sure if he should be annoyed or interested at the possibilities it stirs in him.

“you seemed to enjoy the attention earlier,” he says at last, his voice soft and deliberate.

“what? no,” you protest immediately, shaking your head and giving him that wide-eyed look he knows so well. “i didn’t—i mean, it was just—he was being weird.”

his lips twitch slightly into a shadow of a smile that doesn’t quite form. his brown eyes narrow ever so slightly as he stands up, pulling you with him and spinning you around to start unzipping your tight dress. there’s no urgency in the way he moves.

“hm,” he hums, the sound low and thoughtful, like he’s pondering something far more complicated than he’s letting on. the sound of you dress hitting the floor is deafening—and now you’re just left in your white thong standing in front of his tall mirror.

“but you didn’t stop him,” he continues. his words hang in the air, heavy with implication. “you didn’t seem to mind it.”

you blink up at him, flustered, your mind scrambling to catch up with the weight of his words. his gaze feels heavy, pulling at you, and it only makes the heat in your cheeks burn hotter. your lips part, but the words don’t come right away.

finally, you stammer out, “i… i didn’t know what to do.” your eyes flicker away from him, unable to hold his piercing stare for too long, as if it’s too much to handle.

you fidget slightly, your fingers twisting on the tiny band of your panties as the weight of his attention settles heavily on you. “is he usually so forward like that?”

you sneak another glance at him, hoping your words might deflect some of the intensity of his focus. it doesn’t and its making your heart pound a little faster.

he doesn’t answer right away, letting the silence stretch between you for a moment longer than comfortable. it’s on purpose, you can tell—like he’s savoring the way you’re squirming under his attention, trying to find your footing.

then his hand moves, covering your fidgeting fingers with his own, stilling them. “you’re going to ruin those if you keep twisting them like that,” he murmurs.

before you can respond, he leans in, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your collarbone. the softness of his lips against your skin sends a shiver through you, and you gasp, the sound escaping before you can stop it.

a warm and deep chuckle follows, leaving a throbbing ache between your thighs.

“usually,” he answers at last. “you liked that, didn’t you?”

your lips part as if to respond, but no words come. his hand slides lower, settling on your inner thigh, so close yet not nearly close enough to where you need him most. it’s eating at you.

you swallow hard, your breath hitching slightly, as your mind struggles to piece together what he’s really asking.

“i’m not upset,” he says after a moment, his voice softening just enough to make you meet his gaze again. his thumb starts tracing slow circles that make your skin burn. “i just want an answer, sweetheart.”

you nod slowly, unsure of what else to do, though you should know better by now.

a sharp pinch lands on the plush curve of your thigh. the sensation startles you, and a soft yelp escapes your lips before you can bite it back. his breath is warm against your ear as he leans in,

“words, doll,” he murmurs, the faint gruffness in his voice making it clear he’s not asking. he’s using gojos words against you and it makes the slick pooling in your panties increase tenfold.

“come on,” he urges softly, “use that pretty mouth of yours. i know you can.”

you messily breathe out, “yes ken, i really liked it.”

you’re so consumed by the weight of your confession that you fail to notice the subtle shift in kento’s expression. there’s a flicker in his eyes, a deepening intensity, as if something has just snapped into place.

he would really do anything for you. anything.

you might not fully understand the depths of it yet. and you don’t need to. in this moment, kento’s world seems to orbit around you, and it’s clear that he’s willing to give everything for your pleasure, your trust, your everything.

that’s all he needed to press two of his large fingers on your panty covered cunt, quietly groaning at the wet patch that seemed to have accumulated during his talking. who knew talking about gojo would get you this soaked?

it seems you’re thinking the same thing as you try to muffle your whine with your hand, covering your face because you’re just so embarrassed. “none of that, sweetheart. eyes on the mirror, understand?”

your legs are shaking, twitching really at the sensation of his subtle rubbing on your sensitive clit. your pretty nipples perking up due to the contact of the cold air. and kento notices, of course he does.

your eyes hit the mirror swift, your hands dropping instantly. your eyes are hazy, staring back at him with desperation, “yes, ken”

“such a good girl. the most perfect girl.”

kento moves to face you directly. with precision, he presses you flush against the wall, the cool surface biting against your back as the heat of his body contrasts sharply against your front. his hands settle on either side of you, caging you in.

his movements are unhurried, savoring every second of you like this. slowly, he lowers himself, his knees hitting the floor with a purposeful thud.

his focus is no longer on you, rather your twitching brown heat. he can even see your arousal dripping down your glistening thighs. your lower lips are plump and sticky, practically begging for him to place his mouth on you.

how could he ever deny you?

he uses his tongue swiftly, harshly, and unrelentingly to attack your dripping mound. starting from the base of your hole to where your clit was poking out of its hood, his senses overwhelmed with the sweet taste of you.

still, he can’t help but bring it up again, “you’d let him taste you just like this, wouldn’t you?”

“kennn,” a cute whine eludes you. but you can’t hide the way you leak even more at the idea. he laps at you more rapidly, sending the sounds you make echoing across the room.

he emits a deep, guttural groan, the sound vibrating through you and making your thighs clench around his head involuntarily. his large hands grip your hips firmly, keeping you firm against the wall as his tongue penetrates your wet hole. “hm, doll? you’d let satoru ruin you like i always do?”

“y-yes- oh! i would!”

kento quickly swaps his tongue with his index and ring fingers and curls them to your favorite spot. finding that the sound you make is something he would honestly kill for. he bets on you making those sounds for satoru too.

he opts to suck, hard on your beautiful pearl with his mouth.

you breath stutters, little gasps and chokes of a moan being stolen from you, “oh christ- ken! ken, baby- m’so close.”

the feeling starts low, deep in your core, like a slow, simmering warmth that makes your body feel electric. ever hypersensitive, you more heavily start to feel that intoxicating pressure in your lower abdomen.

your breath quickens, coming out in soft, airy gasps, and you can’t stop the way your body arches, your back curving as you chase every ounce of pleasure being given to you. your manicured nails dig into kento’s broad shoulder, still covered by his dress shirt.

“will you, sweatheart? make a mess for me, yeah?” you don’t know how but his fingers move faster, jabbing and poking precisely in that sensitive spot that makes your head spin.

“make a mess for satoru.”

then it happens, the release washing over you in a cascading rush that steals your breath and leaves you trembling. behind your closed eyes, you could’ve sworn you’ve see a white light. your legs shake and your glossy lips part with loud, breathy moans that you can’t control, too lost in the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

the intensity leaves you lightheaded, dizzy even. your body swaying as if it can’t bear the weight of such pleasure.

you feel kento’s strong hands on your waist, steadying you, his hold being the only thing keeping your legs from crumbling beneath you. every muscle turned to liquid.

“easy, sweetheart,” he watches you, utterly captivated by the way you’re still trembling in his arms, your chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath.

he knows he should give you a moment to recover, to let your body come down from the high that’s left you so drained. this orgasm clearly took so much out of you-it’s written all over the way you slump against him as he stands in front of you.

but kento... kento can rarely contain himself when it comes to you. he strokes a hand down your back, the warmth of his palm possessive, his lips gently grazing your temple.

“you’re so perfect,” he murmurs, voice thick with want. “so good to me, doll. you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”

he tightens his grip on you just slightly, his fingers pressing into your soft skin like he’s staking his claim.

you nod weakly, the response instinctual because you know he’d never do anything to hurt you. kento sees it in your eyes, that sweet look, that unwavering willingness to let him have his way with you-and he can admit, it drives him insane.

“good. good girl,” he whispers.

that’s all you hear before you feel him lifting your body up and your legs wrap around his hips. it’s hard not to pay attention to the pressure of his thick tip pressing at your creamy entrance.

when had he even taken his pants off? you’re not sure. in fact, you’re not even prepared for the way he suddenly presses into you, your slippery folds stretching its best to accommodate to his massive size. fuck, it was all too much!

kento releases a shaky breath, his mind scrambling to figure out how can one person feel so heavenly, “always so tight aren’t you, sweetheart?”

you mewl at his words, mewl at the way you feel so full yet he’s not even halfway inside you yet.

“s’too- too much!”

as if to disprove your trembling protest, kento pushes in deeper, his hips meeting the backs of your thighs with a force. your breath catches in your throat, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as the new angle overwhelms you completely.

your legs dangle limply over his broad shoulders, your knees pressed tightly to your chest, leaving you utterly at his mercy. the position forces you to take all of him, every inch sinking deeper, stretching you in a way that borders on unbearable. but it’s so addictive.

he’s so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat, stealing the air from your lungs and leaving you dizzy.

“fuck,” he groans, his voice husky, vibrating through your entire body as he holds himself there, buried so fully it feels like there’s no part of you he hasn’t claimed. “look at you, doll. taking me so well.”

his large hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as your body twitches beneath him. the stretch is a sinful combination of pain and pleasure that leaves tears prickling in your eyes.

“can feel you squeezing me,” he mutters, his breath hot against your ear as he leans over you, pressing you deeper into the wall with his weight. “so fucking pretty like this, sweetheart... it’s almost like you were made for me.”

you can’t respond-you can barely think. all you know is you want more. and more. and more.

like he’s read your mind.. he starts to pull out, the slow drag of his length leaving you gasping, each inch pulling at every overstimulated nerve within you.

his hair brushes lightly against your cheeks as he bends down just slightly. his gaze drops to where your bodies are joined, watching with unrestrained hunger as your slick clings to him, coating his entire length.

“look at that,” he murmurs, his voice low, sending another pulse of heat straight to your core. he shudders at the sight, his fingers tightening their grip on your thighs as if to steady himself.

then, without warning, he thrusts back into you with a brutal force that knocks the air from your lungs. your back arches against the wall, a broken cry spilling from your lips as he buries himself to the hilt once more, the sudden fullness making your head spin.

“you feel that, sweetheart?” he groans, his breath hot against your ear as he sets a punishing rhythm, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, as if determined to remind you just how completely he owns every inch of you. “my perfect angel.”

you’re helpless against the wave of pleasure building within you, dragging you under with every deep stroke.

your warmth is making his brain scramble, causing him to start rambling now. “maybe i should let satoru take you like this.”

the way you tighten around him is his incentive to keep whispering against your panting lips. “bet he wants to own this sloppy pussy like i do, hm?”

you’re not sure what he’s saying. your mind is currently clouded by the way his tip repeatedly taps your cervix. nevertheless, you swiftly nod your head at his words. you’d agree to anything if it meant he would keep giving you pleasure like this.

you feel that familiar heat stirring deep in your lower abdomen, a subtle warmth that quickly intensifies, growing more forceful, more urgent with every passing second.

this time, though, it’s different. there’s something more uncontrollable about it. you recognize the signs — the way it tightens and twists inside you, a sure signal that you’re about to squirt. you’re about to make a mess.

“gonna cum, doll?” kento makes a grunt and directs his hips to directly punish your gummy spot. if he had neighbors, they would probably hear you cry out bloody murder.

you mumble out through your shaky moans, “y-yes! m’gonna cum, for you! for ‘toru!”

you’re so fucked out, you barely recognize the little slip of the nickname you cried out. you’re a precious thing, fuck. his hand slips down to find your little nub and rubs tight circles so quickly, it almost feels like whiplash when the pleasure hits you.

“go ahead, sweetheart. kenny’s got you. let it all out.”

at his command, you do. you gurgle, letting out clear streams of your juice that spray all over his dress shirt, lightly sprinkling over his open mouth, tasting you. your chest heaves, back arches closer to kento, legs tremble as you lose all sense of your surroundings. you can’t even recall your own name. the only thing you know at this moment is this feeling of pure euphoria.

kento pace starts getting uncoordinated, sloppy as he ruts into you. it’s not long before he follows after you quickly, a deep moan rumbling from the depth of chest as he spurts out thick ropes of his seed into your awaiting womb. and you take it all. because yore his good girl.

it’s so much you can feel like overflowing out of your heat, small streams dripping down your spasming other hole.

he gradually pulls out and quickly kneels down to observe how his cum drips out of your cunt like thick paste. it’s mesmerizing. he slides two fingers up your slit, collecting a nice glob of his aftermath before pushing it back inside of you.

you exhale in a mixture of a whine and a choke, even going as far as to whisper that you’re too sensitive. you don’t know that kento had planned this, you also don’t know that satoru is on his way to you both right now. with his eyes still focused on your pulsing mound, he tuts at you.

“don’t be like that, doll. you need to give me at least one more before ‘toru gets here.”

[luv4fushi]

cw: nsfw. fem!reader & afab!reader minors dni (block my nsfw tag) ageless blogs dni

thinking about 20-year-old megumi who looks so much like his dad that of course the boy has girls staring at him everywhere he goes. he’s got the same brownish green eyes as his dad, the same dark hair, and the same face—and it doesn’t help that his stoic personality is like a flame to a swarm of moths. he’s tall, well-built from his years of training, and essentially a carbon copy of toji—maybe a little bit of gojo, too, because he’d been raised by the eccentric white-haired sorcerer.

“you look so much like your dad,” gojo says every chance he gets. he shivers and then scowls st the memory of toji.

everyone else claims he looks like gojo—only because he’s so pretty that it makes sense to be compared to the man who had raised him and not the sorcerer killer.

but what everyone doesn’t know is that megumi isn’t a carbon copy of toji or gojo. he’s got one thing that sets him apart physically and it’s his hands.

megumi’s hands are gorgeous. his fingers are long and a little thin. they’re a bit veiny too, which makes you drool even though you hate to admit it. he’s got piano hands and you shamelessly stare at them whenever he taps his fingers on surfaces. his cuticles are always moisturized and his nails are trimmed—he claims it’s because his shadows need to be accurate in order for him to summon them, but you know he’s just secretly into self care.

he lets you paint his fingernails black, admiring the way your tongue sticks out in concentration as you try to not get any nail polish on his skin.

when he holds your hand, he’s always rubbing patterns into your skin. it’s like he can’t physically touch you without savoring you as much as he can! his hands are everywhere—your hips, your arm, tucked on your lower belly for some odd, perhaps primal reason.

he likes to move you out of the way (you’re usually unaware of your surroundings when he’s with you because he’s just so safe to be around!) by gently pulling you to his chest with his smooth fingertips, his hand being large enough to nearly cover your entire side.

when you cry, he brushes underneath your eyes with his thumb, wiping off your salty tears before kissing you. his hands are large enough to cup your face and cover it at the same time, which he likes to do when you’re acting a little difficult.

megumi likes to wrap his hands around your neck, not ever squeezing enough to cut any airflow—he just likes the way his fingers look when they’re gripping your smooth skin. he likes trailing his fingertips over each of the possessive bruises that he tends to leave on your sensitive skin. it’s like a reminder to him (and you) that you’re his.

you love the way his hands look when they’re digging into your skin, squeezing your plush thighs as he greedily laps up your release. your cunt spasms at the sight of his fingers wrapped tightly around your thighs. “n-no more! ‘s too much, gumi! can’t—!” he only caresses your skin and forces your legs apart with those pretty hands of his, holding your soft thighs apart. your skin dips around his fingers and the view is so pretty that you have to squeeze your eyes shut so that you don’t release all over his face again.

your favorite sight—and his too—is when his long digits are pumping in and out of your cunt. you’re breathless and mewling his name, watching as his fingers break you down into mush. “cum for me, baby, i know you can do it. such a greedy girl sucking my fingers right in, hm?” sometimes he wishes he could see the way his fingers curl inside your body, pressing up against the spots he knows has you shuddering for him. after you finish from his fingers alone, he loves to slowly pull his them out, admiring the glistening slick coating them. “see this, baby? just from my fingers, you sensitive little thing. do you like my hands that much?”

you love megumi’s hands. that’s one thing about him that’s strictly him—you wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.

[fox-guardian]

please consider: alice but in her blue hair and pronouns phase

sorry anon you have Activated me because my tma-verse alice has blue hair tips instead of faded pink. so now you get blue hair pronouns alice AND an alternate sam!

[ID: A digital drawing of Sam and Alice from The Magnus Protocol. Sam is a fat South Asian man with brown skin and curly black hair in a ponytail with a mustache, goatee, and body hair. He is wearing a white t-shirt, red zip-up hoodie, and green sweatpants. Alice is a tall, skinny white trans woman with freckles, shaggy brown hair with blue tips in a high ponytail, and snakebites. She is wearing chunky pink jewelry, a dusty pink tank top, a long plaid skirt, and a pink blue and white flannel shirt hanging off her shoulders. She is also wearing blue nail polish and a burgundy purse. Sam and Alice are holding each other close, looking worriedly off-screen. One of Alice's hands is rested on Sam's chest, with Sam resting his hand over hers. He is wearing a gold ring on that hand. end ID]

~~~~

unless given evidence to the contrary, i am choosing to believe that archives!sam and alice got back together and have been doing Pretty Well post eye-pocalypse (much to protocol!sam's distress upon learning of this)

[aunt-bridget]

It had been an emotional path to salvation for this pretty little thing……a visit to Aunt Bridget was long overdue.

Weeks and months of training, humiliation and ultimately, complete subjugation was administered to turn this toxic young man into a sweet little maid. Previously, this slut wouldn’t think of anyone else, they would leave their filth and crap for others to deal with and be a generally unpleasant little prick.

Now my methods can be ponderous, maybe a little long winded on occasion. It would have been so easy to whip and peg the shit out of this poor excuse of a human being, but I believed in a gentler process.

And now look. What a transformation.

The nicely fitted black pvc maids dress sits so perfectly on the slim frame, black stockings and shiny fuck me heels have encouraged some very feminine affectations. The gorgeous red nails and delightfully slutty make up certainly seem to get her very excited, especially with a head of flowing blonde bimbo hair to complete the tarty look.

The sturdy collar and steel cuffs make sure no unauthorised freedom is attained and we also have a strict code of silence. A selection of worn panties…either mine or theirs is placed in the mouth at all times. The muzzle keeps everything in place and the nasty little cock is locked away for good. A generous plug is stretching this virgin ass out and my maid has come to associate the shameful feelings of pleasure with this sissy stimulation.

A Pavlovian response is always assured when I peel my panties off and let them drop to the floor. My girl knows the muzzle is about be unbuckled briefly for a gag change. The pretty eyes lower in embarrassment as I feel the warm leakage from the cage….just before my ripe underwear goes in that pretty little painted mouth.

But it’s not all fun and games at the house. The slut is still caught humping my boots as they polish them and we have to start the whole cleaning routine again. I firmly believe we are going to achieve perfect sissification, but I have warned my little maid that a trip to the vet might have to happen if these urges continue.

[fatherbrat]

cw. prequel to this. college au hockey player!sukuna. fatherbrat’s 2nd hugh hefner costume mention. reader is drunk. crack-esque. sfw, 1.3k words.

the first time you meet sukuna is at a halloween party. 

(it’s technically your halloween party. it isn’t your house or anything, but the boys that live there are happy to let you host as long as it means a house full of girls and none of the responsibility of setting up. you're happy to fulfill their requests, since it means you can have things go your way and then dip at the end of the night, leaving the post-party cleaning up to them.)

needless to say, you and sukuna do not make good first impressions. you would blame the alcohol, but honestly, it wouldn’t have gone any different if you were sober. 

he arrives at the party in a group. you recognize one of them—the tall, smiley one with impossibly white hair who sits behind you in biochem. he’s dressed up like a character from an snl skit, clad in an ill-fitting suit and round sunglasses with a present box glued to his pelvis.

you don’t recognize the one who comes in behind him, but he’s sexy and tanned and has a mustache. he’s also wearing the same costume as the white-haired one. gojo, you remember. isn’t he on the hockey team?

you immediately pull out your phone, searching up the school’s official instagram page for the hockey team. there they are, front and center in the most recent post. the third guy with them—the one with black hair and the scar that runs through his lip—is in the picture too. he’s wearing a batman costume now, half-assed but recognizable enough. at least he has on the mask. 

you squint at the last man in the group and frown. your gaze drops back down to your phone. 

in the second row of photos is a carousel full of pictures of this pink-haired brute. sukuna, the apparent team captain. his personal account is tagged, but it seems too professional to you, public and polished to perfection for recruiters. 

anyways. he’s here. at your halloween party. wearing an outfit you deem completely unacceptable. 

you down the rest of your (sixth) drink and toss the empty can onto the kitchen counter before making your way towards the group of men, wobbly as ever.

gojo is the first one to notice you. “hey,” he beams, “cool party.” he puts his arm around the guy with the mustache—shiu—and wiggles his eyebrows. “you like our costumes?”

you ignore him, something you wouldn’t do sober, but you’re on a mission. 

you point at sukuna, jabbing your nail into his chest. “where the fuck is your costume?”

sukuna glances down at your finger, then your costume, then your face. “you don’t see the jersey? i’m a fuckin’ hockey player.”

you pull back your hand, disgusted. “first of all, drop the attitude, mister. second of all, that’s not a costume. you’re on the hockey team.”

someone snickers. the one dressed as batman, you think, but you don’t turn around to check. sukuna’s face morphs through a few different emotions—amusement, annoyance, astonishment. he eventually settles on agitation, pissed that he hasn’t even gotten the chance to get some liquor in his system before dealing with bullshit like this.

“you wanna talk about costumes? you’re wearing underwear and a robe,” he says, gesturing towards you with a dismissive wave. 

you gasp and plant your hands on your hips. “this isn’t just underwear, idiot. it’s lingerie. i’m wearing a garter belt, for fuck’s sake. and thigh highs! plus you forgot about my hat?”

you use your entire arm to point at gojo. “who am i dressed as, dick-in-a-box boy?”

his face is flushed from laugher. “sexy hugh hefner. obviously.”

you throw your arm up in the air and let it fall against your thigh with a smack, not noticing the murderous glare sukuna sends towards gojo. someone somewhere turns down the music a bit.

“see!” you exclaim, addressing sukuna once again. “this is clearly a Sexy Costume™. and you know what else makes it a costume? i would never just leave my house like this on a typical day. it’s not a regular outfit in the slightest.” you speak slowly, wanting to make sure he understands every word. 

“you wanna know what makes this Not a costume?” you continue, still talking slow as you wag your finger up and down sukuna’s body. “it’s a regular-degular outfit. literally anyone can put on that campus store-bought jersey and wear it with those jeans on a normal day.”

sukuna starts to speak, but you cut him off. “didn't you see the sign out front? ‘no costume, no entry.’”

his jaw ticks. his right eye twitches. “yeah, i saw the fucking sign. i don’t-”

“oh, great,” you interrupt. “so you don’t know what a costume is and you can’t read. perfect. that hockey scholarship must be doing a lot of heavy lifting, huh?”

even in your inebriated state, you immediately know that was the wrong thing to say. the little crowd that gathered to watch your back-and-forth takes a collective inhale. sukuna looks downright irate, fists clenched at his sides as a storminess settles over his face. 

gojo lets out a long and low whistle, the kind that cartoon bombs make right before they hit the ground and explode. he pats your shoulder twice before abandoning you altogether. the rest of the crowd follows, leaving you to contend with this bear you repeatedly poked.

the music returns to its original volume, but it sounds like the speaker has been moved. away from you and closer to the living room.

maybe it’s the alcohol in your system, but you swear you can see literal steam coming out of sukuna’s ears. you sway on your feet a bit, waiting for him to say something. a thought occurs to you as you watch him pinch the bridge of his nose and breathe deeply, but you keep it to yourself, screwing up your lips in a physical attempt to keep from digging your grave further.

sukuna didn’t even want to come to this party in the first place. he actually mentioned the sign out front to the guys before they came in, trying to use it as an excuse for him to go home. his plan was to make an appearance, drink a beer, and then escape after thirty minutes. but here you are, this drunk stranger yelling at him for being dressed like a normal fucking person. the urge to stay strikes him. he wants to linger just to piss you off. 

“are you done?” he asks you.

you cross your arms. “are you leaving?”

“no.”

“then no.”

just as you’re about to dig into him again, sukuna’s thinning patience snaps.

“stop being a fucking bitch about this, alright? just relax. you’re acting fucking crazy.”

your jaw unhinges itself and you stand there, gawking. sukuna seems about ready to walk away, cracking his knuckles and looking somewhere behind you. your eyes land on his cheek, reddened and ready for a smack. you draw your arm back, wanting to make sure you gave him a slap that stings—and he catches it mid-air.

“are you serious?” he scoffs. you glance at your hand, his fingers around your wrist, the scowl etched into his face.

he glowers at you, not letting go when you try to shake your arm free. so you do the next logical thing.

you spit on him.

a glob of your saliva lands just below his eye. you smirk, satisfied. he drops your arm and curses, lifting the bottom of his jersey to wipe his face. then you make your first smart decision of the night and turn around, running back to where the rest of the party is to hide amongst the bodies.

he yells after you, but it’s drowned out by your giggles and the sound of chatter as you get nearer, bumping into countertops and side tables on the way.

someone pats your back and puts a drink in your hand. you pray you never have to see the captain of the hockey team again. 

tags. @nonamevenus @lavenderdaydream97 @rinofcike @gdamnackerman

[mrsjellymunson]

Dress Up

Written for the @steddiemicrofic October challenge, ‘dress’ | word target: 350 | rating: T | CW: none

Of all the stupid things he’s ever agreed to, Eddie’s sure this is the stupidest.

Outside his bedroom, Steve yells,

“You ready yet?”

“Yeah, kinda. I’m just-”

Eddie’s voice cracks and tails off, hinting that he’s not in a happy place.

“C‘mon man, we’re gonna be late for Dustin’s Halloween costume party. I’m sure you look fine.”

No answer. 

Frustrated, and increasingly uncomfortable in his pinstripe suit and slick-backed hair, the point of which nobody has yet explained, Steve grabs the handle.

“Okay, I’m coming in…”

“No! Steve, wait!”

Steve steps through. And stops dead.

Eddie fears the worst, his face screwing up into a mortified grimace, trying to cover himself with folded arms and flopping hair. 

Babbling, he tries explaining,

“I look stupid, I know. Nancy said something about reinforcing patriarchal stereotypes of sexualised Halloween costuming, Robin flatly refused, Max said she was going as Wednesday and Argyle confirmed he was Cousin Itt, so to stop them all arguing I said I’d do it. I’ll get changed, just- just gimme a minute, okay?”

He reaches for tissues, hoping to wipe off some of the obviously terrible makeup before Steve can fully see. But he’s stopped by a powerful hand grabbing his wrist.

“No, don’t!”

Steve pleads,

“Let me… Can I see you? Please?”

His timbre is soft, but Eddie isn’t convinced that he’s not utterly horrified. Reluctantly, he turns.

And is met by Steve’s gorgeous hazel eyes, blown pupils drinking him in. 

The way the black velvet hugs his body. The low neckline that highlights his chest hair and allows the slightest peek at his tattoos. The black nail polish showcasing his long fingers. The dark eye makeup and deep lipstick accentuating his features. The hint of fishnets visible through a thigh-length slit, descending down into freshly-polished, laced-up, platform New Rocks. The subtle bulge at the apex of his thighs…

Steve swallows, his roving gaze eventually travelling back up to Eddie’s.

Before Eddie can speak another word, Steve has one more thing to say. He holds Eddie’s hand, takes half a step forward and slowly, deeply, purrs, 

“Cara Mia…”

I really hope you enjoyed this! If you did, be sure to let me know - writers feed on your comments and reblogs 🖤🖤🖤

A/N: YES, Eddie’s Morticia. YES, Steve is Gomez. YES, the kids are conniving little sh*ts. YES, it’s based on some utterly delicious art by @blablasfemma that you can find HERE and HERE, and the fishnets were partly inspired by THIS by @arelliann and literally everyone who’s ever drawn Eddie in them whose work I can’t find bc I’m so disorganised - if this is you or you know of any PLEASE hmu bc I’d love to stare at them forever add credits 🙏 Thanks to @the-unforgivenn for the beta, and to @80s-addict for previously getting as excited as I did about seeing Eddie in fishies 😆

General taglist (s’open, babies!): @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean @mediocredreams @in2tswft @micheledawn1975 @littlebebebunny @12thatsanumber @alastorssimp @the-baby-angel @eddie-is-a-god @wolfqueenxxx @sassidykassidy

[someobsessionrequired]

OP characters

Would they let you paint their nails?

(Only MILDLY suggestive for Shanks...because yknow...its shanks)

Luffy!

You can absolutely try! He's not against it but this boy will most definitely run off about two fingers in

His color of choice was a ruby red that was supposed to get a coat of silver glitter, sadly you did not make it that far

The few fingers you did get done are completely back to normal within a day from a mixture of picking and chewing at them unconsciously

Sanji!

Is absolutely enthusiastic that you asked him! Tells you to choose whatever color you love the most so he has a constant reminder of you

Most definitely gets a nose bleed the moment you touch his hand, but other than that he sits patiently

Takes extra care in the kitchen to not damage said nails, if they flake off over time he will ask you to fix them for him

Zoro!

Definitely not overly enthusiastic about it but will begrudgingly agree after an idea hits his 2 working brain cells

He will get you to paint his two middle fingers a lime green, and will exclusively use this opportunity to flip Sanji off any chance he gets

Does not last long though within a week all the polish has chipped off

Nami!

100% down, she will request to paint yours as well afterwards

The two of you will be rocking a cute tangerine orange, every couple weeks you two will sit and touch them up again together

Brook!

He will absolutely crack a bone joke about how he does not have nails to paint

Will let you paint the tips of his boney fingers though, he would ask for a shade of blue that reminds him of his dear friend Laboon

Shockingly with a protective coat the polish stays wonderfully for many werks

Robin!

Another who is very happily down and requests to do the same for you! She will make a whole event of the time, tea, and some light reading in-between coats drying

If this becomes a regular ocurance she will mix up colors between dark violet shades and deeper pinks

Jinbe!

This man is not quite sure what you are asking of him but agrees with a hearty chuckle

When you ask him to pick a color he will ask for dealers choice, he does not particularly care about the polish but enjoys the way your face lights up when he agrees

Sadly does not last long on him ask with so much swimming it is bound to break down quickly

Ussop!

Beyond down! Another to make a whole event of the time, hair, face mask, and nails

Paint his nails while he tells you beyond Preposterous stories, the self care will be going both ways that night and by the end both party's will be refreshed

He would choose a forest green and after it drys attempt to do little designs of vines and flowers on them, to a somewhat success

Kid!

You would not even have to ask, this man would run out of his own polish and ask if you had any

A bit annoyed when you ask to paint them for him but agrees under the terms that he can make the two of you match

This man is red all the way, the more like fresh blood the better, will let you once in a while spice it up with painting his middle fingers black

Killer!

God he really did not want to at first but he is a softy and will agree after he sees your disipointment

At first he thought about matching with his captain but quickly decided against that settling on a deep ocean blue

With the amount of fighting this man gets up too it does not last long, but once a week will go to you to have them fixed up

Heat!

Obsessed with the idea! Another to have an entire self care night with you

Will pick a deep firey orange with a lighter orange glitter on top, has you help fix up his dreads as each coat drys, he struggles with the ones behind his head so that where your main focus will be

Afterwards will do the same back for you choosing for your nails to half match his, instead having a sparkly blue on top

This will become a regular occurrence

Wire!

Loves the idea, he's a man of few words so things you can do together that do not put pressure on talking are his favoites

He would wants a darker purple as to complement his outfit, after you finish he would place his hand out and after a moment of confusion you'd understand this him offering to do the same for you!

He takes great care of his nails but fighting takes its damage on them, when they get too bad he will simply approach you and hold out his hand to show how chipped they are, you get the message and fix them up for him

Law!

Absolutely! ...not...

He rejects it flat out multiple times and after so long you just stop asking...

That is until one night all the crew was drinking and celebrating their latest victory, after several too many drinks he approaches you, definitely even in his intoxicated state finds himself struggling with his words to request what he wants

After a while of anxiously waiting for the captain to tell you what he wants he simply asks you to follow him, assuming you are in trouble you are shocked to find him request such a silly thing

Happily you lead him to your chambers digging around in your bag you pull out a matte black polish

The next morning he wakes with a ragging hangover on top of the shock of his nails now painted, wants to be angry but knows it looks damn good, continues to take damn good care of them as well

Penguin! & Shachi!

Okay if you ask one they will not only agree immediately but also drag the other along

Unshocking this will not be an easy endeavor, it starts off strong with the two of them dumping out every color you own digging though struggling to choose a color

Eventually they will settle on a color each, penguin having picked and icey blue and Shaci with an almost neon orange, they request you do every other finger with each color

After you finish up they do the same for you each boy taking a hand, it starts off fine but quickly turns into the two insulting each other over how messy they paint, it turns into a competition of who can paint better

Bepo!

Often you find yourself napping and relaxing with Bepo so after a while of this you mentioned the idea of painting the polar bear's claws

He is absolutely giggling and squealing at the idea, quickly requesting for the most fun color you could think of, this boy wants glitter and do not cheap out! A light icy blue base with as many rainbow sparkle coats you can muster up

He will treasure them and keep them as safe as he can but will come to you with tears in his eyes as they peel off, give this boy a huge and fix them up for him!!

Shanks!

Absolutely will but requests you sit on his lap as you do it, this man will use any sneaky trick to get what he wants but as long as you both are happy he's winning

Wants a shade of red that matches his hair, once you finish up his hand he will ask you to do the other hand, out of pure Instinct you look towards where his other hand would be as he lets out a deep vibracious laugh poking fun at you for the rest of the night

Mihawk!

We'll say no the first time you ask but if you mentioned it a few times he will eventually give in requesting the most simple soild black you can find

After you finish them he takes a moment staring at them before nodding at you and sending you on your way

Over the next few days you'll notice anytime he walks by a mirror to straighten up his outfit he will take a moment to appreciate the nails and how well they complement his look, he may not want to admit it but you can tell he is feeling himself up

Will eventually ask you to fix them up over time as he says he's grown fond of them

Writers note!

Thank you reading! Requests are open for headcanons, fics, and really just about anything!

[swordsandholly]

Steel Magnolia

Part 1 - paused

Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!plus size!reader

No use of y/n

Rating: Mature/MDNI

Word Count: 2.1k

Author’s Note: I just recently got back into fandom spaces and reading fanfic again and looooove the uptick in fat Y/N characters. Ofc as a big girl myself I wanted to try my hand at writing one too.

Hopefully I’ll post this on AO3 soon. Whenever I get my invite so I can make an acc.

“Oh! Darlin’, did ya see those boys next door?” Mrs. Duprey gasps as you swipe the last of her Bubble Bath OPI polish across her fingers.

“Next door?” You cock an eyebrow. “No one’s been next door since Adam and Eve.”

“I saw them on the way in!” She grins, the corners of her eyes wrinkling pleasantly. “Strappin’ young men - y’should talk t’ ‘em.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m sure I will sooner or later, ma’am.”

“You’ve been single too long.” The nosey old bat contributes. As much as you love her she truly cannot leave well enough alone.

“And I’m perfectly content as such.” You give her your warmest smile.

The trailer home across from you has remained empty for as long as you can remember. It’s well kept - sometimes you see random gardeners mowing or going in an out with tool bags - but no one lives there permanently. You’d think in a beach town it would at least belong to some snowbirds. A timeshare, maybe. It’s none of those things, though. Just a well-maintained, perfectly empty husk.

There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, probably.

Sure enough, as you walk Mrs. Duprey out of your little single wide trailer, you spot a black SUV parked out front of the neighboring double wide. One that is definitely *not* a repair man or worker’s vehicle. She coos at you to make sure to talk to them before waddling off to her own car. She really shouldn’t be driving at her age. You wonder briefly - futilly- if she’d sell you her car in exchange for rides.

You suppose she’s right - even if it is for the wrong reasons. You’re not particularly interested in flirting with the new neighbors. After all, don’t fuck where you eat is a saying for a reason, but it wouldn’t exactly be neighborly to not introduce yourself. Especially with all the people coming and going from your home for your nail tech services. The old Yankee’s catty-cornered from you still believe that you're a drug dealer. At least they only come down for a couple months of the year.

Despite your staunch decision not to flirt, you still find yourself adjusting your clothes. Maybe the sports bra as a top is a bit much…

Fuck it. If they live here now they’ll see you in worse.

You fix your lipstick and throw on your platform sandals. The ones that clip-clop as you walk. Maybe it will help announce your presence.

The screen door wraps quietly as you knock. You take two steps back on the front, wooden porch so as not to come off too aggressively. As the seconds tick by you debate on knocking again. Maybe they’re out. Or busy. They did just move in today, most likely. Maybe you should-

The door creaks slightly as it opens. A very, painfully handsome man pushes the screen door until it clicks in place. “Afternoon, lassie.”

You blink stupidly as he crosses his strong arms and leans on the doorframe. His eyes are a striking shade of blue - somehow both sharp and soft. His dark hair is shaped into a slightly grown-out, un-styled mohawk. It fits him oddly enough.

“I, uh,” you take a deep breath. Christ you need to get laid if just *looking* at a hot guy has you this off kilter. “I live across the way. Just wanted t’ say welcome t’ tha neighborhood.”

That lopsided smile on his face grows into a grin. You don’t miss the way his eyes catch on your chest. “Aye? Nice tae meet ye. Names John MacTavish. M’friends call me Johnny.”

He gives your hand an extra little squeeze after shaking it. That accent might as well have you on the floor. You continue to blink dumbly, watching the at the scar on his chin stretches as he speaks.

Christ almighty, you’re pathetic.

“Nice to meet’ya.” You give him a warm smile, tilting your head to the side slightly. “Ya’ll here for vacation? We don’t get many Europeans ‘round here.”

He chuckles. It’s low and rumbling and would probably feel wonderful with your ear pressed to his chest. “Little bit o’ business, little bit o’ pleasure. This an’ tha’.”

“Hello, there.” Another man pops up from behind Johnny suddenly. Fucking hell, he’s gorgeous too. Older, for sure, with a uniquely cut beard that would probably look rather silly on anyone less handsome. At it stands, he manages to make it appear dignified.

“Ah, jus’ about tae call fer ye, Cap. This is our neighbor.” Johnny gestures toward you.

“John Price.” The man steps forward to shake your hand. It’s firm and professional and thank god your grandad made you practice a good handshake as a kid or you’d be painfully embarrassed.

“Are all UK men named John or is this just some sorta cult?” You blurt, unable to stop yourself from snickering at them.

Older John chuckles at you fondly, his facial hair giving him a pleasant U-shaped smile. “Be easier to remember that way, wouldn’t it? No, we’re with two others. Kyle and Simon. They’re out at the moment.”

“Kyle and Simon.” You repeat, nodding. Johnny, John, Kyle, Simon. “Are y’all in town long?”

“Indefinitely.” Is all Price gives you. It’s a tone that even someone as dense as you can recognize as ‘don’t ask more.’

You clap your hands together and smile a little wider, ready to make your exit. “Well, I’m not here t’be a bother, just wanted t’ welcome ya and, uh, let y’know that I have a lot of people over throughout the day - I’m a nail tech. They shouldn’t bother ya but y’know.”

“Ye can come bother us anytime, bonnie.” The Scot hits you with that grin again and your face suddenly feels far too hot.

A loud, whining screech sounds off from down the road. You check your watch. Holy shit, three-thirty already. You begin to back off the porch. “Ah, nice t’ meet ya again! See ya ’round!”

As you jog down the little dirt road of the trailer park another black car passes you. It’s smaller, a sedan. You make very brief eye contact with a blonde wearing a surgical mask and another man with the sharpest golden eyes you’ve ever seen - even through the tint of the window.

*Kyle and Simon,* you think.

You make a mental note to greet them at some point and continue down the street. The school bus slowly stops at the entrance and you take up your spot in the small crowd of parents. IT’s a shabby old bus - chipping paint and break pads that sounds like they’re about ready to snap. It’s all they’re willing to send out to your little section of the city, though.

Shelby meanders over in your direction, her usual Camel Crush lit up in one hand and the other teasing her already well-lifted hair. “Afternoon. Saw there was some new folks across from ya.”

“Hm?” You keep your eyes on the bus. “Ah, yeah. Just vacationers, I think.”

“Lookers, though.” She chuckles.

“They’re from the UK.” You offer.

“No shit!” Shelby stamps out her cigarette as the bus doors open. “Accent and all?”

“Yep.” You grin.

Shelby tsks and fiddles with her hair again. “I best go over an’ make myself known, then.”

“There’s an older fella with a neat beard. Think you’d like ‘em.” You snicker.

She hums. “I’ll bring a pie.”

The children practically burst out of the bus doors, as always. Ready to be home and shuck off their backpacks to their respective adult. Shelby’s son almost knocks her over, offering a little “Good afternoon, ma’am!” to you before heading off with his mother.

You nod to him, shoving a hand in your pocket as you wait for yours. She’s always the last. Always caught up in a book or something and doesn’t realize it’s time to get off of the bus. Sure enough, the driver has to call back to her before the little girl comes dashing out. She jumps off of the bus steps, despite being told time and time again not to, and kicks a rock on her way toward you.

You bow low for her. “Welcome home, Lady Sophie.”

She giggles, dark curls bouncing as she skips over. “Ni-ni!”

You take her bag from her. The thing really does dwarf the poor six year old. Her hand slips into yours easily. Soft and round and somehow always so much warmer than yours.

“My nail color chipped!” She announces, holding up her ring finger on the opposite hand.

“Oh! Now we can’t have that. I’ll fix it tonight.” You smile, waving at old Mr.Chester as the two of you pass.

“Well now!” He calls. “How blessed am I to see two such lovely ladies!”

You both giggle, continuing on your way. He’s a good landlord - spotted you more than a few times when Sophie was a baby and you couldn’t work consistently. Honestly, as you look around, the little community that he’s managed to build in this shitty corner of the world should be praised. Housing just enough snowbirds to cover his property costs while keeping rent low for the full time locals. Maybe you could convince Natalie at the paper to run a little story on it or something.

As you pull up to your own home, the blonde man is outside leaning on the front of their double wide. Seeing him standing at full height makes your blood run cold. The man is built like a damn barn - tall and wide. Beyond solid. *Brick shithouse*. It’s a bit weird that he’s covered in clothing head to toe but whatever. Weirder things have happened before. The mask still covers his face, you wonder if he had taken it off before you came up or just flipped it up to smoke.

“Sophie, head on in. I’ll catch up.” You push her toward the door. She scampers in, the screen door slamming behind her as you march up to the brick shithouse of a man in front of you.

“Which are ya? Kyle or Simon?” You smile, holding out your hand to shake.

Dark eyes rake over you, stopping briefly on your hand, before moving back to meet yours. He stomps out the half smoked cigarette. “Simon.”

You let your hand drop. Bit rude, this one. “Nice t meetcha.”

The other man pops his head out of the trailer. Kyle, you assume. “Oh. Hello.”

“Hi.” You smile as warmly as you can, giving your name. “I’m assumin’ yer Kyle.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “I’m guessing you’re the neighbor Price mentioned.”

You nod, about to speak again but Simon shoves past you, marching his way up the steps. “Let’s go.” He grunts, pushing the other man back into the trailer despite his protests.

You wrinkle your nose at him. What an asshole.

“Who’s tha’?” Sophie asks over the back of the old, worn couch as you let the trailer door slam behind you.

“New neighbors.” You say simply, glancing out the window. “Don’t go over there without me, yeah?”

“Okay!” She agrees, sitting back on the couch and bouncing, beginning her usual post school chant. “Bluey! Bluey! Bluey!”

You drop her backpack down beside the small coffee table. “After yer homework.”

“Nooo!” She pouts.

“Then no Bluey.”

Sophie pouts harder but crawls down in front of the coffee table and pulls out her little work sheets. At least the school doesn’t over run them too terribly with homework toward the end of the year. You glance at the calendar. Wednesday, May 22nd. Damn, she really only has about a week left. Though, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to this summer break with her. She’s old enough now that you can take her places like the arcade without having to wait on her so much. You’ll actually be able to play some of the two-player games.

Plus, this year, you actually have a little more pocket change to make it fun.

You turn to look out the window once more at the new neighbors. Their curtains remain closed, cars neatly parked out front. The door opens slowly, the hot Scot and rude blonde wander to the Sedan. Simon’s shoulders shake at something Johnny said - you think he’s laughing but its hard to tell with that mask. Johnny’s head turns, blue eyes meeting yours through the shitty glass windows of your trailer. You squeak and duck to sit next to Sophie, praying that he didn’t catch you staring.

[wooyoungiewritings]

Fire and water - Seonghwa x Reader

Summary: When you walk into the mechanic, you don't expect to see Seonghwa, the most intimidating person you've ever laid your eyes on. He's the complete opposite of you. But he opens the idea of something you've never considered, and before you know it, the door he has opened for you is already locked behind you.

Word count: 6K

Genre: SMUT

Warnings: smut, fem reader (fem pronouns), reader is very innocent and hwa is very not (lol), nicknames such as kitten and princess, oral sex (f receiving), hwa smokes, semi public sexual activities, lmk if I missed anything!

This is all for fun and is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way.

The intense smell of gasoline and oil fills your nose as you step into the unfamiliar space. Generic rock music plays from the radio and a few random posters hang on the walls. It doesn’t seem like the most professional place, but a car with an open hood in the middle of the room, assures you that you came to the right place. Your eyes scan the repair shop for someone to assist you, but the silence is enough of an answer for you. 

You knew you arrived at a late hour, having spent most of your day getting lost in the books at the library, but a part of you hoped you could make it before closing time. It was a simple Google search for the nearest mechanic that had you end up here, but you didn’t think twice to see the closing hours.

Your legs guide you further into the room, careful not to touch anything you shouldn’t. This is the first time you’ve been to the mechanic with your car that you bought a few months back. It was an already used car when you bought it, but you could get it cheap and desperately needed something to help you get to school. The feeling of being in here is intimidating in itself, having little to no knowledge of cars, but a lamp in your car display has been screaming for attention for way too long, you couldn’t ignore it anymore. 

“Are you lost?” The voice surprises you and you turn around to see a tall figure walking into the room. 

Seonghwa.

The tall, lean, beautiful man you’ve seen in the hallways of your university. He is always wearing an oversized old-school leather jacket, messy black hair, black nail polish, and has a cigarette in hand 24/7. He and his group are known on campus for being too intimidating to talk to, but somehow every time you see them, they each have a new girl wrapped around their finger. They party when everyone else is sleeping, don't care about what people are saying about them and they will fight if they have to. 

You’ve only spoken to him once when you accidentally walked in on him and a girl kissing in the library. You were searching for a specific book and made your way to the back rows of the library. As you were in your own head, you turned a corner and saw him with his tongue down her throat, her hands running through his (then) white hair. Your instant reaction was to freeze in your spot, panicking. This was the last thing you expected to see, especially at the library. 

As Seonghwa removed his gaze from the girl trapped between him and the shelves, and his eyes watched you carefully, you immediately woke up.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” You quickly said, turning around. Cheeks quickly blushed, and you felt the embarrassment rush over you. Not even for them, but for you.

You heard the girl mumble something to Seonghwa, and a second later, she passed you and walked out of your sight. Heart pounding fast against your chest, you slowly turned around before your eyes landed on Seonghwa. Relaxed, he was leaning up against the shelf with his arms crossed, staring you down.

“You can take what you came for.” His low voice spoke. 

Slowly you walked further down the row, trying your best not to look at Seonghwa. Focused on the note in your hand with the book name you were searching for, you scanned the rows for the book. It seemed like an easy task, but you felt Seonghwa’s eyes locked on you with every move you made, making this simple mission impossible. 

Your eyes kept going over the same place again and again, slowly getting frustrated that you couldn’t get your shit together. 

As you looked down on the note again, reading the same line for the 29th time, you suddenly felt something watching over your shoulder. The smell of gasoline and cigarettes surrounded you, and it was like everything froze again. Seonghwa’s presence was close to you, but he wasn’t even touching you. You slowly turned your head to the side, and Seonghwa was peeking over your shoulder, looking down at the note in your hand. 

Not a word was said when he lifted his arm, grabbed a book, and handed it down to you. Your breathing stopped as you saw the book you were so desperately looking for, resting in Seonghwa’s hand. Your hands slowly reached out for the book, and you couldn’t help but look up and see his eyes watching you with no expression. You couldn’t tell what was going on behind those eyes. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, not being able to get more words out. 

“You’re welcome.” He answered coldly, still watching your every move. 

Was he pissed at you for interrupting? Was he tired? Was he happy? Relieved? You had absolutely no idea.

So you quickly saw your opportunity to get away, sending him an awkward smile before you practically ran away.

And that was the first and only time you’ve spoken to Seonghwa. Until now. 

“No, I was looking for someone to help me.” You say, knowing he’s been waiting for an answer for a little too long. “I need an oil change.”

He takes a few steps further into the room, and you notice the white towel in his hands, filled with black oil stains. He’s wearing a black tank top and jeans, also filled with black stains.

You didn’t know much about him, and you had no idea that he worked here. Looking back though, it made sense for you. He was often seen with a “dirty” outfit, with black oil stains on his clothes and skin.

“Brave of you to walk in here in an all-white outfit,” His eyes travel down your body, and you suddenly feel small. You look down at yourself in your white cardigan, white skirt, and white knee socks. Of course, you didn’t think much of it when you put your outfit together this morning. “Give me five minutes, I just need to finish this,” He walks closer to the parked car in the room, throwing the white cloth over so it rests on his shoulder. 

Restless, not knowing what to do with yourself, you step closer to the wall, trying your best not to be in his way. “Careful standing too close to that, or you’ll get oil on your skirt. It stains. You can sit on the stool over there while you wait.” He points at a black stool in the corner and you quickly find your way over there so you can let him work in peace.

You take your time studying the place, not knowing if it’s normal to have a conversation at a place like this. How long will this take? Does he own this place? Should you leave him alone? You decide to focus on the rock music playing while you silently watch Seonghwa do his thing.

He’s leaning over the open hood of the car, screwing something and rubbing his hands in the white cloth after. You might not have any idea of how to repair cars, but he makes whatever he does look so easy. He knows exactly what to do and how to do it. 

He closes the hood of the car and walks to the other corner of the room. You can’t see what he’s pressing, but suddenly the metal wall behind you goes up, and you look behind you to see other cars parked outside. It rolls all the way up, and Seonghwa walks to the car, gets in, and drives it out of the room and to the parking lot. 

You silently watch him as he comes back and walks towards you. “Alright, can I have your keys?” He asks, reaching out his hand. You’re quick to hand him the key with a heart keyring attached, and there’s a tug on his lips as it’s placed in his hand. “Be right back.” 

A moment later, he arrives in your car, parks it in the middle of the room, and walks out to close the metallic garage door again. Once it’s closed, he grabs a few things from racks on the walls and walks to your car.

“You want me to do a routine maintenance check as well? I have the time.” He asks as he opens the hood.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to.” You say as confidently as possible. Truth be told, you just want to have your car fixed so you can go home. Seonghwa doesn’t respond, he just grabs a mechanic’s dolly, lays his back on top and suddenly his upper half is under your car. A few moments pass by in silence, the only thing filling the air is the music playing and the sounds of metal crashing as he works, and he rolls back out and goes to work in the front trunk. Leaning over your car, working and changing the oil, he once again looks professional and focused, and that makes you curious.

“You work here a lot?” You ask.

“Yeah, every day pretty much.” His back is turned to you, but you see him pull out a pack of cigarettes. He places one in his mouth, flicks the lighter, and a cloud of smoke escapes. His body turns towards you, the pack of cigarettes in hand. “Want one?”

“No, thank you.” You shake your head. He continues to work on your car, cigarette dangling from his mouth. “Is that safe?”

“What?” 

“Smoking. While doing that.” You point to the car. You’ve seen too many movies including fire and cars, so a quick concern washes over you, scared that a huge fire would suddenly occur. 

“Smoking is never safe. You’re always playing with death when turning one on. If you’re asking if it’s safe to smoke over an open hood, then it’s inconsequential. Your car won’t blow up if that’s what's worrying you.” He glances back at you. His black hair is pushed back, but a few strands have fallen down into his face.

“If it’s not safe then why do you do it?” You can’t help but ask, curious if he really doesn’t care or if it’s just an act.

“Helps me concentrate.” He simply answers, going back to work. “What about you?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“No, do you do anything that's bad for you?” Another cloud of smoke fills the space around him, and he rubs his hands in the white cloth, leaving black stains. The black oil on his hands blends in with his black nail polish, and somehow it looks good. 

Just like he was that one time in the library, he’s once again impossible to read. And his question leaves you silent for a moment, not knowing what to answer.

“Oh… Uhm, I don’t know. I don’t think so.” You shrug, and a light scoff comes from Seonghwa.

“Shocking.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Your brows come together in question.

His body turns to you, eyes going down to your outfit, hand gesturing to you. “You look like you’d be spending a week in church if you walked across a red light on the street.” There’s a small tug on his lips as he speaks. He’s entertained by you. You look like the complete opposite of him. In your white outfit, knee-high socks, and white little skirt you look like a saint next to him in his all dirty, messy black clothes. Like fire and water, you're the opposites.

“Well, I don’t.” You say.

“You don’t have to take it as a bad thing. Church girls can be full of surprises.” There's something hidden in the way he says it, and the smirk on his lips makes your cheeks blush. “I’ve seen you at school, you know. Often at the library, surrounded by academic books you probably read just for fun.”

“Well, I like the idea of knowledge. It gets you further in life.”

“It depends, doesn’t it? Don’t you think knowledge can hold you back from doing certain things too?”

“Maybe. But I also just like staying at the library. It’s fun.”

Another scoff leaves him, and you get the feeling that he’s mocking you. 

“What?”

“If your idea of ‘fun’ is reading at the library, then I’d love to see you on a Saturday night.” He sends you a smirk before going back to focusing on the car. His back muscles tense as he works over the open hood, and you can’t help but stare. The black tank top really does him justice as he moves his arms around, and you shake your head, trying to focus on something else.

“What do you study?” You ask, trying to change the subject.

“Business, language and culture.”

“So you don’t wanna be a mechanic?” 

“Still figuring it out.” He answers shortly. “You study what?”

"Psychology.”

"So, those biochemistry books I see you with at the library really are just for fun?" He raises an eyebrow and smirks, making you feel annoyed that he has you figured out so easily.

“As I said, I think knowledge gets you further in life.” You justify. He shakes his head in disbelief and you hear something close to a chuckle leave him. The sound is nice, especially since you’ve never heard or even seen this man smile. So this small chuckle is enough for you to continue this small banter you have going. “You don’t look like the type to go to the library.” 

“I don’t think we use the library for the same reasons.” He turns around toward you again and takes a long drag of his cigarette. He leans up against your car as your eyes lock on his figure, eyes piercing on you as he blows out the smoke. “Do you know about the library’s back room, princess?” His nickname for you makes your mind blank, and you shake your head no. “Proves my point.”

“What’s the back room?” You’re curious.

He’s studying you for a moment before answering. “A place to fuck.” 

Like a switch, your entire expression changes and you feel your cheeks heat up. Never have you heard of this ‘back room’ before. No, you probably (absolutely, most certainly) wouldn’t even use it if you had known about it, but it shocks you that it’s a thing. 

Seonghwa’s smirk grows on his lips as he studies your face. “Your expression says it all. You’re such a good girl you couldn’t even hide it if you wanted to.” 

You fall silent for a moment, not knowing what to say or how to move on from here. Until you’re reminded of the first time you spoke to Seonghwa.

“I saw you at the library once. With a girl.” You say shortly.

“Yeah, I remember. The back room was occupied so I took her down to the part of the library no one comes to. Well, except you.” The way his eyes are locked on you while talking about this is making your heart beat faster. 

“Is it even allowed?” 

“Would it ruin you to break the rules once in a while? Have you ever had sex in public before?”

“N-no!” Your cheeks are burning at this point.

“Don’t hate it till you try it. It's thrilling.” You’re not sure but you think you see him send you a wink as the smirk grows on his lips. A few more strands of hair have fallen down in his eyes, framing his face perfectly, before he runs his hand through his hair to push it back. It makes you fall under his trance for a moment, but you quickly flicker your eyes away, scared to fall for the beautiful brown eyes of his.

“So what, you only go to the library to sleep with someone? You don’t think there’s a better place to make love?”

“‘Make love’, how adorable.” Seonghwa is full-on smiling at this point, enjoying this conversation the more it escalates. The way your cheeks reddened, the slight shake in your voice, your flickering eyes. It’s clear to him that you’re not used to talking about these kinds of things, and he loves it. 

“I don’t see what’s funny.” You say.

“You make love on your honeymoon. You fuck everywhere else.” He says, as a matter of fact. 

“I don’t.” You disagree, fighting to keep your eyes on him and not back down from his piercing ones.

“No, I figured.” Another cloud of smoke leaves his lips and frames his face before continuing to fix the car, still looking back at you occasionally as you’re having this conversation. “You’re seeing anyone?”

“No.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself. His gaze on you seems so intimidating, even his presence itself. There’s a confidence, almost an arrogance to him that makes him so unnerving. But despite this, you can’t help but ask further. “Do you? Since you use the ‘back room’?”

“You only fuck-” He stops himself and holds his hands up. “Excuse me, make love, with people you date?” His questions make you fall silent for a few seconds.

You don’t know Seonghwa well, so this conversation is not exactly what you expected. This question could also open an entirely new topic of conversation that you weren’t sure would be comfortable for either of you.

The conversation about sex is not normal for you, especially since you’re not the most experienced. Despite having been in a relationship with the guy who took your virginity, it didn’t end the way you had dreamed of. 

You had always romanticized the thought of losing your virginity to the person you would spend the rest of your life with, but when you found out he had cheated on you during your relationship, your world crumbled. At the time, all of your insecurities came to life, and despite knowing you had done nothing wrong in the relationship to prevent this, you couldn’t help but feel like you had done something wrong when it came to sex.

With time, you promised yourself not to let your ex have an effect on you, so you did everything you could to gain back your confidence, and you did.

You clear your throat, taking your time to find the right answer. “Well... I’ve only made love to one person and that was my ex. So yes.”

“And you only stayed in the bedroom?” 

A moment of silence.

“Yes, we did. I just don’t understand why you would do it anywhere but in the bedroom. There’s literally a bed, I can’t imagine how uncomfortable everything else must be.

Seonghwa throws his head back before looking at you in disbelief. “I didn’t think you could get any more good. You must be first in line to heaven when doomsday comes.” He puts his smoke out in the ashtray on a working table next to the car. “Public sex is not about how comfortable it is. And just because it’s public, does not mean people are watching you. That’s a whole other kink.” Seonghwa is slowly making his way towards you on the stool. His large frame is closing in on you, speaking in a lower volume as he’s coming closer. “It’s the feeling of someone possibly being able to see. Having to keep quiet, being close, finding whatever excuse you have to leave and drag the other person into a random room. Comfortability is not a necessity at that point. Then you don’t care if you fuck in a bed, against a table, or the hood of a car.” 

He’s standing right in front of you. You try your best to control your breathing as he looks down at you, you have to look up at him through your eyelashes. The smell of cigarettes surrounds you as he is near, but there’s also an obvious pull of something dangerous yet addicting when being close to him. You don’t know where it comes from, but you can't help but want more. 

You’ve never caught yourself thinking of Seonghwa this way, but he’s awfully good at wrapping you around his finger and thinking of things you’ve never had before.

“So what, how does this ‘backroom’ work?” You suddenly ask, almost surprising yourself. What did you want with the information? You have no idea.

Seonghwa finds your questions endearing. The innocence in your voice has him smiling, letting you see his perfect teeth. You’ve never looked at him so closely, you find yourself so fascinated by him. The raw, scary persona he is, but yet his face is perfectly made like an angel. Soft and beautiful. You suddenly find yourself completely under his spell, studying his every feature.

“What, tempted to give it a try? I can show you if you’re interested.” There’s a hint of something in his voice, you can’t tell if he’s kidding, but even the thought of him taking you to the room, has you notice a certain heat between your legs.

“N-no, I’m just curious.” Your voice shakes from how close he is to you along with his words.

“Careful with that. Curiosity killed the cat, you know.” He then steps back and walks back to the car to continue working on it as if nothing happened. Seonghwa is working over the open hood, unaware of how he left you feeling inside. 

Your heart is beating fast against your chest as he casually works in front of you. Like he turned on something inside of you, you suddenly notice things about him you didn���t before. How his hand curls around the wrench, how his shirt lifts when leaning over the car, exposing the skin on his waist, and how his muscles tense when he works. His jeans hang low, just below his waist, revealing even more skin and you somehow can’t help but look.

“Getting awfully quiet over there, princess. Your mind running?” Seonghwa’s head turns to you, catching you looking at him. Your eyes go to his, and you both freeze. He studies your face for a few seconds before grabbing the hood of the car and closing it. You both look at each other, a certain tension between you.

“Come here,” Seonghwa says as he leans against the car. Your body hesitates to do as he says, but you eventually cave in and get down from the stool to slowly make your way towards him. 

Seonghwa throws the white cloth on the table before looking down at you. The smell of cigarettes and oil enhances again as you’re close to him, and Seonghwa taps the hood of the car with his hand. You look at the hood, suddenly unsure of everything you do, but push the thoughts away and jump up on the hood to sit. Your feet dangle, but you freeze when Seonghwa steps in front of you, resting his hands on either side of you. 

“You’re thinking of something special?” His low voice asks. He’s searching for your eyes, but your heart is pounding and your eyes struggle to stay in one place. The heat between your legs is driving you insane, never having felt like this before.

“No... Maybe.”

His eyes continue to study your face. His expression is still impossible to read, yet his actions make you feel a whole new type of way.

“Look... I’d gladly take you, right here right now, if you want. We don’t even have to fuck, I can just make you cum if that’s what you want.” His bluntness throws you off, yet you didn’t expect those words to have such a big impact on you.

“Won’t someone come in? Or hear?” You worry.

“No. They won’t.” He whispers, slowly leaning forward. 

You can’t tell what’s happening, even if you had a gun to your head. Seonghwa is not someone you should be spending time with. He’s the complete opposite of you, yet that draws you in like nothing else.

“Okay.” You cave in.

Not a second later, Seonghwa’s lips are on yours. Everything is happening so fast, that your brain isn’t even realizing who you’re kissing. The guy you’ve seen scare people away from their seats is having his hands on you, pulling you closer for a kiss. His tongue slips through your lips and you allow his every move. 

It’s a whole new experience to kiss someone like Seonghwa. The taste, the moves, the desire. He knows what he’s doing, and the confidence shines through, even just through the kiss.

He pulls back, leaving you thirsty for more, and a small tug on Seonghwa’s lips assures you that this is actually going to happen. “First… How do you usually like it, kitten? How do you like for someone to make you cum?” He whispers.

“I’m not.. no one has ever... I mean-”

“No one has made you cum before?”

You try analyzing his question in your mind before you shake your head no. 

“I thought you had a boyfriend a while back?”

“I did..”

There’s a short moment of silence where Seonghwa just reads your face and takes in what you just told him. “So let me get this straight... You only had mediocre, boring vanilla sex with this guy, he never made you cum and you still dated him?” He lifts an eyebrow, trying to understand the situation. You slowly nod, confirming his question. “Did he ever cum?”

“Every time.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding... Now that’s just selfish of him,” He removed a piece of hair from your face and leaned his face closer to your ear. You felt him slowly press his lips on the soft spot on your neck before gracing his lips over your ear. “Can I get the pleasure to be the one to make you cum, princess?”

“Y-yes.” You’re almost panting at this point, craving his touch more than you’d ever expect. Seonghwa holds your face in his hands as he presses his lips hard against yours again. The smell of cigarettes surrounds you as you get lost in him, yet you for some reason get addicted to the idea of him. Like he’s your kind of nicotine.

“I’ll try not to get oil all over you.” He assures as pulls away from you.

“That’s okay.” You tell him, suddenly not caring about the stains. This makes Seonghwa’s lips turn into a smirk, slightly amazed at the sudden change in you. His hands run up your thigh, leaving black stains from his fingerprints on your skin.

“You like the idea of my fingerprints on you? Looking in the mirror when you get home and seeing my hands on your thighs?” He goes to kiss your neck as his fingers dig into the flesh on your things. Unable to speak, you nod, wanting him to touch you even more. “Lean back for me, kitten.”

You scoop further back on the hood of your car, leaning back on your elbows to get a view of Seonghwa. His hands go to your hips to drag down your underwear till it completely leaves your body. The cold air hits your heat as Seonghwa parts your legs to lean over the hood and get a better view of your cunt. 

“Gosh, you’re glistening, princess. Are you that wet already? The idea of cumming in a public space is turning you on now?” 

You don’t get to react before his tongue suddenly slides between your folds, getting a long taste of you. The feeling makes you gasp, but you quickly cover your mouth with your hand, silencing yourself as much as possible.

“You taste so sweet, kitten.” He continues taking long strokes in between your folds, making sure to lick your clit as well. You look down to see his fingerprints on your thighs, turning you on even more. A moan escapes through your lips as he starts focusing on your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue on the sensitive nub. You can barely say anything as he takes his time, eating you like he craves you. 

“I can’t believe someone had the chance to make you cum, and he didn’t even do it right.” Seonghwa shakes his head with a smirk before taking a few more deep licks against your pussy. “How embarrassing of him.”

“Will you... do it right, then?” You asked, looking at him with doe eyes. Seonghwa stands up further to look down at you spread out on the hood in front of him. His fingers, still stained slightly with black oil, go to your chin, and tilts your head up slightly to get a better look at him. 

“Kitten, you’re gonna wish you came to me sooner when I’m done with you.” The look in his eyes almost works like a promise before he leans down to your pussy again. “Tell me how you like it, princess. Use your words.” 

Once again you have to fight yourself to get actual words out when he runs his tongue between your folds again. This time, he focuses on your hole, slipping his tongue in before licking up your pussy again. 

“Like that... That’s really g-good.” You manage to get out, already feeling the shocks through your body when he licks the right places. 

“Fuck, you taste so good.” He spits down on your pussy before going back and to lick it again. Your legs slowly give up, but Seonghwa holds them open, allowing him full view and access. He goes back to sucking your clit, making you moan through your hand once again. “Best cunt I’ve tasted, kitten. Sweeter than anything.”

His tongue works around, he knows what he’s doing. He occasionally looks up at you, making eye contact as he runs his tongue between your folds. This makes you go absolutely crazy, seeing him go down on you like this. Eating, slurping you up. The sounds from the repair shop are out of this world, filled with your moans and him slurping all the juices from your pussy.

“Please don’t stop.” You throw your head back in pleasure, slowly feeling your orgasm approach. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He grins. His mouth goes to your clit again, sucking and rolling his tongue over it. Restless with your hand, it goes to his hair and you grab a handful. The black locks in your hand look amazing as his face is against your cunt, eating and licking you up. Your abandonment starts to send shocks through your body, Seonghwa having to lock your legs down so he can continue. 

The feeling is overwhelming, you can barely hold back your moans anymore. His tongue is flat against your pussy as he flicks your clit with the tip, making sure to hit all the best spots. He works fast, barely letting you get used to one way before he moves next to the new. 

“Seonghwa, I’m gonna-” You moan his name as the feeling of your orgasm quickly starts to form. Lastly, his tongue goes to your clit, sending you over the edge. Your whole body is a shaking, moaning mess as he eats you out of your orgasm. He doesn’t miss a spot as he slurps up the juices from your pussy, licking you one last time, everywhere, before separating himself from you.

You look up to see his chin glistening from your orgasm. He has a smirk on his lips as he pulls you up to sit and presses his lips against yours. Quickly, a specific taste of something mixes as you kiss, his tongue added as well. 

“You taste yourself on my tongue?” He asks confidently, and you quickly realize what the taste is. You. “Amazing, don’t you think?” He smirks before giving you one last kiss before pulling slightly away. He stays between your legs as you scoop forward a bit, still on the hood but with your feet dangling now. 

“Should I.. with you?” You almost whisper.

“No need, princess. Eating your pretty pussy was enough for me.” He smirks as he places his hands on each side of you. You blush again, never having someone comment on your pussy before, but you can’t help but like how it sounds coming from him. “So.. first time having someone make you cum and it being in a public space. What do you think?”

“It was.. fun.” You admit, speaking the truth. The rush of doing it here, with Seonghwa, at his place of work was not something you ever expected to happen, but it had a thrill you never felt before.

“See, that we can agree is ‘fun’. You have school tomorrow?” The change of subject throws you off for a second, having to get your mind clear after just having the biggest orgasm of your life.

“Yeah,” You reply, remembering something important, “How much do I owe you?” Your words leave him with a wrinkle between his brows. 

“For eating you out?” 

“N-no! For the uhh.. the car.”

He looks somewhat relieved after you clarify, “Oh... I don’t know, it’s hard to say. I know you said you didn’t want a maintenance check but I couldn’t help but notice that your serpentine belt is filled with cracks.” 

You don’t even know what a serpentine belt is.

“What does that mean?” You ask.

“That means that it’ll break at some point and then you’ll risk getting stuck in the middle of the road because your car can’t drive.” He explains, and you suddenly understand the situation. You can't help but notice how quick he is to move on, talking about your car after he just had his tongue in between your folds.

You know he's not a stranger to sex, but that also intimidates you.

“Oh..”

He reads your expression for a second as you try to figure out what to do. You don’t want to be stuck in the middle of the road when driving, knowing that’s gonna be even more expensive. But it’s late, so leaving your car here would mean that you would have to order a cab or take the bus.

“I’m done here for the day. How about I give you a ride home? Then we’ll drive here together from school tomorrow, I’ll finish your car, and you’ll get to drive home in a car that doesn’t have the risk of crashing down at any moment?” 

You look up at him to see his expression back to its usual unreadable one, “I mean... If that’s okay with you?” You ask.

This makes him smile. He looks down on your thighs to see the stains he left on you, before meeting your eyes again.

“Of course, kitten. I’ll just grab my stuff.” 

He then disappears away and into another room, leaving you on the hood of your car. The fingerprints on your thighs are a raw indication of what has happened tonight, and you’re sure your clothes are stained with black oil as well. 

When he arrives again, he’s wearing his black leather jacket. You follow him to his car outside, and he drives you home. When you arrive at your apartment, you can’t help but look in the mirror immediately. Seonghwa’s fingerprints are all over your thighs and hips, almost marking you. Your cardigan, skirt, and socks all have stains on them, and there’s a slight embarrassment in your gut when thinking of what happened tonight. 

You can’t help but feel embarrassed at the thought of seeing Seonghwa in the hallways of the university, especially since he has to pick you up from school tomorrow and go back to the place where he just gave you your biggest orgasm. But even so, you’re even more tempted to walk through the door he just opened for you. The wilder side, the dangerous and unfamiliar. 

It makes you blush even thinking of him, and when your phone suddenly buzzes in your hand, you’re shocked to see a certain name on your screen.

Seonghwa made you save his contact when dropping you off, saying it was for future car problems. But you didn't expect a text already, and you know the door he has opened for you, is already locked behind you. 

Seonghwa See you tomorrow, kitten

Taglist: @canigotosleep--plz (comment if you wanna be added to my taglist!)

[koiiiji]

part 2 for this

author’s note ; i like dynamics with Goo and his secret friends, so it’s gonna be few more parts!

tw ; none, maybe fluff

working for Goo Kim had its perks. money and old friendship were a major ones, but the real fun came from the influence you wielded over his friends. dangerous, powerful men and all were under strict orders to cater to your whims — Goo valued your intel too much to let anyone else mess with you.

Lee Taesung had learned this the hard way when he spent an entire afternoon trailing you around a mall, carrying your shopping bags like some kind of personal valet. his discomfort reached its peak when you dragged him into a lingerie store, enjoying every moment of his mortification as he stood there, visibly uncomfortable, holding up delicate lace with the expression of a man who would rather be anywhere else.

now, it was Cheon Taejin’s turn.

Taejin, unlike Taesung, had a proud, almost regal demeanor. where Taesung would grumble and sulk, Taejin held his tongue, though you could always see the tension simmering beneath the surface.

“where to, boss?” Taejin asked with just enough sarcasm to let you know he didn’t appreciate the nickname as he opened the door of the sleek black car.

“nail salon, Taejin,” you replied, sliding into the backseat with a smirk. “my appointment is in fifteen minutes, so let’s not waste any time.”

he said nothing, just slid into the driver’s seat and pulled into traffic. you watched the world blur by outside the window, your fingers drumming lightly on your thigh as you planned your next move.

while parking the car in the parking lot, Taejin got out of the car, holding the door for you, he casually asked if you would stay long there.

“oh, i might be a while — there’s a new color i want to try.”

“right,” he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for you to hear. “wouldn’t want to ruin your day.”

you took your time in the salon, chatting with the manicurist as she worked, enjoying latest tea about that one girl drama, who also visits your manicurist. when you finally emerged, nails gleaming a perfect shade of crimson, Taejin was leaning against the car, clutching a cigarette between his teeth.

the nail salon visit was followed by a trip to the hair salon, a boutique, and finally, after you had squeezed every last drop of patience from Taejin, a drive to Goo Kim’s office.

Taejin’s knuckles were practically bone-white as he parked the car, clearly holding onto the last shreds of his composure. before he could say anything, you pushed the car door open and stepped out, casting a quick glance over your shoulder.

“you know, Taejin,” you mused, your voice laced with mock concern, “you’ve been awfully quiet today. i hope you’re not mad at me for taking you on this little adventure.”

“wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied through gritted teeth, his expression remaining stoic despite the irritation brewing beneath the surface.

“good to hear,” you said sweetly. “now, let’s not keep Goo waiting. i’ve got something new for him.”

you made your way into the building, Taejin trailing a few steps behind. as you entered the lobby of Goo’s expansive office, you spotted Samuel leaning casually against the wall, his gaze sliding to you the moment you walked in.

“Samuel!” you called out, rushing toward him with open arms. Samuel barely had time to react before you were embracing him. “oh, you’ve done something different,” he said, glancing at your freshly manicured nails, his voice smooth and practiced. “new color? it suits you.”

You pulled back slightly, grinning up at him. “oh thank you, Samuel!! i knew someone would notice. i’ve been dragging poor Taejin around all day, but he didn’t say a word, can you imagine?!!!”

Samuel chuckled, casting a sidelong glance at Taejin, who had the decency to look slightly uncomfortable. “ah, Taejin. so focused on the job, aren’t you?”

“i’m not paid to notice nail polish,” Taejin muttered, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall.

you turned to him, a playful glint in your eyes. “maybe you should be, Taejin. it’s the little things that make the difference. girls like a guy who pays attention to the details.”

Samuel smirked, clearly enjoying the exchange as much as you were. “she’s right, you know. attention to detail is key, even outside of work.”

Taejin sighed, rolling his eyes slightly but otherwise refusing to take the bait. “noted. i’ll make sure to compliment your next manicure. just give me a heads up beforehand so i can practice my delivery.”

you laughed, patting Taejin on the arm as you moved past him. “i knew there was a soft spot in there somewhere. you’re learning, Cheon. soon you’ll be a gentleman yet.”

Samuel followed behind you, still chuckling as you all made your way toward Goo’s office. as you approached the door, you threw one last glance over your shoulder at Taejin, who was still following dutifully behind.

“don’t worry, Taejin. i’ll make sure Goo knows just how valuable you’ve been today,” you said with a wink.

“i’m sure you will,” he replied, his voice resigned yet still carrying that ever-present edge of pride.

working for Goo Kim certainly had its perks. and as long as his friends were willing to play along, you intended to enjoy every single one of them. after all, it wasn’t every day you got to boss around some of the most feared men in the city.

and if they didn’t like it? well, that was just too bad.

[thebookbutterfly]

Punk!Simon Riley is a disease and I’m terminal so here we go.

He struggles to wear rings because he’s broken so many fingers during combat. They don’t really fit properly. But it’s fine because he makes up for it with bracelets and black nail polish. The only ring he wears consistently is his wedding ring.

He just likes the way it looks, especially when he’s got his hands on you. Touching your waist, grabbing your chin and hips, and gripping the soft skin of your thighs.

But your favourite accessory? Punk!Simon has a tongue piercing.

Need I say more. You had first figured out he had it when you had kissed him. But once you know it is there you notice constantly. Every time he speaks it catches the light subtly. As if this man isn’t distracting enough already, now every time he speaks to you, you get a reminder of his lips on your skin and the slight bite of metal when his tongue is in your mouth.

To make things more unfair, he has tattoos. Tattoos, he likes to show off by rolling up his sleeves (when he’s not wearing a too-tight band T-shirt that is). Oh, he’s wearing a button up? Of course he’s leaving the top buttons undone to show off that chest piece he likes so much. Totally not because he knows it riles you up.

You can tell when he’s home from work before he even enters the door. The sound of his motorbike revving as he pulls into the drive is your favourite, next to the sound of Si’s laugh. It is always followed a few minutes later by your giant, sleepy man striding through the house to greet you. Blond hair mussed up from his helmet and extra clingy after a long day’s work.

I need help—

@gazspookiebear this one goes out to you 🤝

[squiddy-god]

A confession to a fae

(Lilia vanrouge x reader)

Re-upload from terminated blog squid-god-supreme, this is in a similar style to captured, basically, this is more general Lilia leaning, long hair Lilia supremacy

CW : nothing much, reader is low key down bad, kinda stalking? Watching from afar? "My most cherished one"

1.5k

Who was he? That mysterious man who walked the stone path of your small cottage in the dead of night? He who stalks the trees and befriends all creatures of the night. Who is he, you wonder? 

He whose eyes glow crimson and whose pupils are not but slender slits of pitch black. You wondered who he was as you glanced with blurred vision and bated breath out the window to catch only a glimpse. 

The thought and curiosity plagued you and you worked in your garden, soft soil giving way as you dug and pulled weeds, harvested the plants you grew. The tall trees cast dancing shadows but let light flicker through, it was calm, peaceful. "Hello there my dear" you jumped and looking up there was now a figure in front of you, Dressed in a long robe the deep set hood concealed his face. He was tall, not unreasonably so but enough to make note of, he leaned only slightly against the stone wall separating the two of you. Covered in moss and discolored from years of the forest encroaching on pale stone it only came up to about waist height. He let out a chuckle at your alarm "do not fret little one, I mean no harm to you" "o-oh well 'morning" 

That was how it all began, the mysterious man showing up by that garden wall to chat, the lovely weather, the kingdom of which you hail, and the woods that you call home. He had the most pleasant stories, of dragons and swords clashing, of night walks with ghosts and of history long passed, from dusk till dawn in bliss you were held captive by the words he spoke as you tended your garden. 

"Ah drats!" You mumbled as you searched for the jar of wild herbs and mushrooms you needed, only to realize that you had run out. "Fine I suppose I'll go get more" you sighed, lacing your boots and grabbing the shallow basket you used for things like this, with that you headed off. 

Deep now in the forest and basket weighed with herbs and edible mushrooms, a few berries, and flowers you could grow you felt a cold touch on your hand. 

Stumbling back the basket landed after you, miraculously nothing split as it contacted the ground. "Apologies my dear" the cold touch was back, now in front of you kneeled the man who leaned against your garden wall, his pale hand grasping yours as it was lifted to his lips. 

Were his footsteps like rain? Silent and peaceful, you wondered as the sunlight danced with shadows if this man was the same who stalked the night with such luster. If he who held your hand in tender reverence was he who walked the path of your cottage before the sun kissed the sky. 

"It's alright, you just startled me haha" you got up, watching as he rose up, his cloak fell to conceal his ivory and alabaster pants and cuffed black leather boots. "I come here often, this tree is quite nice, perhaps I'll no longer be the only one who visits?" He extended his hand, nails sharp and pitch black. "Is that an invitation?" You took his hand. 

"Fufufu of course my dear" 

This man who you were so enraptured by was a constant question in your brain, so it was no shock that as you awoke and lit your lantern you spotted from that window by the bed, a figure dancing through the trees and got up. Heading to the kitchen then to the stone wall by the garden you left a bowl of tomato soup you had made earlier and heated up by fire. 

As morning breathed life to day you awoke again and went out to your garden, there against the wall with his back turned was the man.His vest a polished pine green embroidered with blush pink thread showing ferns and snapdragons, red dahlias and columbine flowers. The short half cape that rested on his shoulder and draped over one of his alabaster sleeves was dark slate gray and lined with silver. “Hello again sir” you greeted him like any other day and he turned to you with a fond smile. He was handsome, his striking blood red eyes set against the pale white skin and the slight dark tint to his eyes and lips. His hair was long and black, with streaks of pink and the underside bright fuchsia. His appearance was striking, especially his smile and the fangs that peaked out. “Good morning my dear, thank you for the gift you left me on the evening of last” you smiled, proud of the work you put into that soup and glad he enjoyed it. “I can't let a gift go unpaid, so before the sun bids my farewell would you invite me to repay your generosity?” “you don't have to, but if you insist!”.

Just like that he lept over our stone garden wall, his black boots lifting him up before hitting the cobblestone path. A cold hand to yours and before you knew it you were spinning, his hand at your waist and the other holding your hand. “My gift to you today is a dance through dawn.” no rhythm played in the air yet as you danced in his embrace the world seemed to be alight with beautiful melodies, his eyes held stories that ruptured your heart and made your feet sway effortlessly with his.

You wondered if this man was human, he who stalks the trees, he who dances to no music yet keeps rhythm, he who leans over the garden wall. They say you should not dance with the fae, for once you do it’ll never be the same without, you wondered if that was what he is, if his eyes hold more than lonely longing affection but his gaze always seems to silence these thoughts. 

He was beyond the garden wall now, no longer the mysterious figure but the charming man, he sat under the tree in your garden and told you stories now, occasionally he would play tunes on his bagpipe and you would dance and clap in tune when not tending your garden. He often brought flowers, lovely flowers that you had never seen, ones that never wilted and ones that bloomed in the dead of night. He also brought honeyd words and sweet glances, saying he was once lonely but had found you. The man spoke of magic and mages, you had confessed that you had no magic like others and that this was the reason you moved out to the forest. He showed you magic as you danced, the sparkling of light that spun and twirled around the air as his appearance changed before your eyes, and as yours morphed to match his own.

“I spend so much time with you now,” you pondered shifting and turning towards him “yet i don't know your name” his breath seemed to pause, a dead calm and for a moment you wondered if you had messed up. “Fufufu my my what a question to ask me, you who walk beyond thorns have not a clue what power a name holds” his answer confused you, the power a name holds? “But, you are indeed my most cherished one, so perhaps I will tell you” how he adored the way your eyes gleamed at the words he spoke. “First you must follow me cherished one~” he was up in a second and you followed.

Soon you looked down to see a stone path, the trees grew more dense and you realized you had never been this deep into the forest before. “Sir- uh my love?” “Yes darling?” Even with golden light trickling through dense leaves his eyes almost glowed the most brilliant red. “Where…are we going?” he laughed. “Fufu you will see soon enough. 

You walked deeper and deeper until only sparse light flooded in small beams and nature had entirely consumed the land, remnants of castles long taken by lakes and claimed by the forest. Even the path you realized had disappeared some time ago, your only guide was the man in front of you. The almost silent sound of his steps stopped and you ran into his back, soft fabric cushioning your blow. “H-huh?” before you in the dim lighting was what looked to be a wall of trees and thorny vine, they twisted and curved suspiciously to form a perfect circle. It was lighter on the other side but almost the same, except for the cobblestone path that emerged covered in moss. 

“This my dear, is the price for such power over me.” he stepped through and nothing seemed to happen. “Simply follow me, til the end of eternity” and before your eyes he vanished. Your eyes were wide as saucers as you stood before the circle gateway. “Alright” you said more to the memory of his figure, one foot after the other onto the other side. 

Now you stand, in a small clearing, the circle arch long gone as your feet touch the cool stone. Chilling arms and soft linen fabric wrapped around you as the ghost of a breath blew gently against your ear.

“Lillia, lillia vanrouge~” 

[steddiealltheway]

@steddie-week day 1: hunger / pining / Somebody to Love by Queen

"I'm going to murder Steve if he tries to flirt hopelessly with another girl when he likes Eddie," Robin says with a groan.

"Keep your hands still," Nancy gently reminds Robin as she paints another black layer on her nails. "Does Steve know that he likes Eddie?" Nancy asks with a laugh.

Robin resists the urge to use her hands to speak. "No! But even you have seen the pining. I thought he was going to have a meltdown when he saw Gareth jokingly flirt with Eddie."

Nancy blows on Robin's nails before frowning and scraping off some polish that got on her fingers. "Maybe Gareth is in love with Eddie," Nancy jokes.

Robin laughs. "He's been asking me if you're single for months now."

"If only he knew..." Nancy says with a wide smile before laying a kiss on her girlfriend's hand. "But hey, I'm dealing with Eddie who is hopelessly trying to get over his crush on Steve. He would be willing to be set up with anyone, I swear."

Robin throws her hands up. "That's it!"

"Robin your nails-"

"We set them up on a blind date. Steve has been trying to get me to find someone for him forever now, and Eddie wants the same thing from you! It can be operation... Find Them Somebody to Love."

"You just got that from my Queen tape."

"But it's a great plan!" Robin says with a victorious smile. She holds out her hand to shake on it.

Nancy rolls her eyes and shakes Robin's hand. "If this works, I'll repaint your nails."

Robin's brow furrows. "What do you mean..." she trails off as she looks at them.

"There's some in your hair," Nancy says with a wince.

Robin starts to scrape the paint off. "You call Eddie while I get this off."

Nancy watches her struggle for a moment before handing her some nail polish remover. "I hope this works for our sake."

-:-:-:-:-:-

To say Steve is surprised when Robin excitedly calls him to set him up with someone is an understatement. He may be a bit clueless and naive, but he knows when she's up to something. But maybe she's excited and thinks it's just a really good match, but he thinks that's just the hopeless romantic in him talking.

He also thinks it's strange that the date is at a burger joint that Eddie really likes, but maybe Eddie helped Robin with the date? He really hopes not but doesn't know why. He also knows that maybe the burger joint is a coincidence and the Eddie thought is just because Steve can't stop thinking about him.

It's weird. He's never really had a friend like him before, but he thinks it's part of the trauma bonding that makes Steve feel so intensely about him. But it's different from Robin it's... he doesn't know.

But he doesn't have much time to think about it as he parks outside the food joint. Time to lay on the Harrington charm.

As he walks in he notices only one table that has one person at it. The girl is facing away from Steve in a booth, her long dark curly hair being the only thing visible. She's definitely Steve's type.

As Steve approaches the table he runs a hand through his hair and tries not to think about how she has hair like Eddie's. As he turns to the girl with his most charming smile, it quickly turns into a real smile. "Eddie?" Steve asks.

Eddie's head snaps up and multiple emotions cross over his face as he takes in Steve. "Steve? What are you doing here?"

"Blind date, and you?"

Eddie replies, "Same here, man. Nancy set me up."

Steve tries to ignore the way his heart seems to break. He gives Eddie a smile but it's too tight and entirely fake. "Robin set me up, but hey, that's great, Munson." Steve goes as far as patting Eddie on the back which makes him internally cringe. What's happening?

Eddie slowly glances at Steve's arm and gives it a confused look as his hand still stays on his back. "Right, sorry," Steve apologizes and feels entirely not like himself. Why is he so damn nervous? "But hey, what if I waited here with you until our dates come and we can keep each other company?"

It looks like Eddie wants to say no, but Steve is already sliding into the booth. Eddies just continues to stare at Steve as if he's the last person he wants to see at the moment. Steve ignores those signs and continues talking, "So a blind date? I didn't know you were looking for someone."

Eddie huffs and looks down at the table. "I'm not really looking for someone, I'm just trying to get over someone."

Steve feels that familiar pang in his chest. "Someone I know?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Eddie mutters. Steve just nods because he has no idea what that means. Eddie continues, "I didn't want to like this guy, but it just kind of happened. And they're incredible and way out of my league, so here I am. But they're somehow just always around..." Eddie trails off staring at Steve.

He almost feels like Eddie is trying to hint at something, but he isn't sure what. "I've been there. It took me a while to get over Nance, but eventually with time it happened. But hey, I don't know how someone could be out of your league, man. I mean you're really uh... well," Steve takes a moment to really look at Eddie and he weirdly feels his cheeks heat up, "You've got really nice eyes, and hair of course, and nice... lips."

Eddie squirms a bit in his seat and glances away. "You don't have to take pity on me, Harrington."

"I'm not!" Steve insists a little louder than he intends to. He lowers his voice and repeats, "I'm not. I'm just stating the facts. You're a really attractive guy. Plus, you're really smart and creative, and you can play the guitar well which I'm sure other guys dig, and you're also uhh really funny and kind-"

"Please stop, there's only so many words of affirmation I can receive in a day before I combust," Eddie jokes but there's a light flush on his face.

Steve holds his hands up and says, "I'm just saying you're a catch. Anyone who doesn't see that isn't good enough for you anyways."

Eddie narrows his eyes at Steve for a moment then glances over his shoulder. "So, uh, doesn't look like our dates are here yet."

Steve glances around and notices no one is sitting alone and no one else has walked in. Weird.

A waiter walks their way and takes their drink orders and gives them a few more minutes to look over the menu. As soon as he's out of earshot, Steve asks Eddie, "Do you think it's rude to put in an order when they're not here?"

Eddie glances around and his eyes settle on the wall. Steve looks over and notices the clock. "If they're not here in the next ten minutes which is fifteen minutes after the date start time, then we can order," Eddie states.

Steve smiles but suddenly his stomach makes an obnoxious growling noise. Eddie's eyes widen. "We can make that five minutes if you'll last that long."

"I can last ten minutes it's alright," Steve replies.

Two minutes later, Steve is already giving in, "Okay, what if we just ordered when the waiter comes back?"

Eddie smiles at him for the first time that evening. "You're weak, Harrington," he jokes.

"Hey, I was strong enough to lug your body around."

"If only I was conscious for that."

Before Steve can think of a response their lovely waiter interrupts them and asks for their order. Steve ends up ordering the same thing as Eddie which has Eddie scoffing, "I thought you thought my taste in food was bad."

"If putting strawberry jelly on a turkey sandwich is your idea of food, then I stand by what I said."

"I'm going to make you try it one day," Eddie says with a wide smile.

Steve leans forwards. "Is that a threat?"

"If you want it to be," Eddie says with a wink.

Steve laughs and has the sudden thought that he really doesn't want his or Eddie's dates to show up. He just wants Eddie to himself.

What?

"What, are you traumatized by the thought of it or something?" Eddie asks after Steve has gone silent.

Steve looks up and really takes in Eddie again. You're a catch. Anyone who doesn't see that isn't good enough for you anyways.

Oh shit.

Steve glances towards the door and outside and doesn't see any cars approaching. He looks back to Eddie and says, "If our dates don't show up in the next five minutes, what if we agreed to be each other's date."

Eddie looks at him for a moment with narrowed eyes. "As in... we're just like... hanging out or...?"

Steve takes a deep breath and says, "A real date."

Eddie's eyes widen and he looks around. "The kids didn't put you up to this, did they?"

"No, Eddie, I- I would really like to go on a real date with you."

Eddie stares at him again then asks, "You swear that this isn't a joke?"

"On Dustin's mother," Steve jokes then holds out his pinky.

"You know how much a pinky promise means to me."

"I know, it's a promise that can never be broken," Steve says.

Eddie hesitates then wraps his pinky around Steve's. "I hope our dates don't show up then," Eddie says with a big smile.

"Me neither," Steve agrees.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"I can't believe it's working!" Robin excitedly shouts from the passenger seat of Nancy's car.

"Me either," Nancy agrees as she watches Eddie rant while flailing his hands and Steve laughs. After a moment, Steve rests his hand over one of Eddie's and gives it a squeeze. Eddie flushes enough that Robin and Nancy can notice from the slight distance.

"Do you think they're going to kill us when they see us?" Robin asks.

Nancy scoffs, "No, they'll probably be over the moon thanking us. I'm just surprised that they agreed to go along with the date without thinking we were pranking them or something."

"Maybe the dinguses just finally sucked it up and admitted they liked each other when they figured out the plan," Robin says with a shrug as she watches the two get up. "And it looks like it's our time to leave."

Nancy shakes her head and looks at Robin. "Wouldn't that draw more attention to us though? We should just let them go first while they're so absorbed in each other's company."

"That's a good ide-" Robin stops as she looks back at the pair. "They've spotted us. Shit."

"Like I said, they're probably going to thank us," Nancy says, praying she's right. She rolls down the window as they approach.

Steve waves with a big smile. "Hey! We thought it was you, but we just wanted to let you know that your dates for us stood us up, but that's okay. Great really because Eddie and I decided you know..."

"I finally confessed that I've been pining after him," Eddie says nearly bouncing up and down.

Steve turns to look at him. "Wait, the person you said was out of your league, that was me you were talking about me earlier?"

"Steve, I thought you realized that after I told you I've had a crush on you for years now."

"Oh. Hey, I'm not out of your league at all, if anything you're out of my..." Steve trails off and seems to realize Robin and Nancy are still there, "Well, we're going to make up for lost time, but it was good seeing you. Thank you for attempting to set us up!"

Eddie and Steve wave as they leave, laughing about something moments later.

"Oh my god, did they just...."

"Holy shit, do they really think..."

Robin and Nancy look at each other and nod. "Dingues," they agree.

They look back as Steve and Eddie seem to argue about what car to take back and Robin sighs, "They'll eventually realize, right?"

"I doubt it," Nancy says.

Steve and Eddie walk towards their own cars seeming to realize that they don't have to drive together. "Gosh, they were made for each other."

It's years down the line when Steve and Eddie are telling the story of their first date when Nancy and Robin finally get fed up and tell the truth, but Steve and Eddie still don't believe them. Once a dingus, always a dingus.

[fox-guardian]

[ID: Three digital drawings of Sam, Alice, and Colin on gray backgrounds. The first image is three drawings of Sam from the neck up. Sam is an Arab man with brown skin and short, curly black hair and a mustache and small goatee. He is wearing small black earrings and a cream turtleneck. The left drawing shows him smiling very wide while sweating anxiously. The middle drawing shows him frowning downwards while sweating anxiously. The right drawing is him looking neutral while saying "I could be cleaning toilets" while looking off to the side.

The next drawing is of Alice and Colin. Alice is a tall lanky white woman with fluffy, shoulder-length, light brown hair with faded pink tips, freckles, and stretch marks on her stomach. She is wearing pink cat eye glasses, pink nail polish, three pairs of silver earrings, snakebites, a berry-colored bra, a fully unbuttoned gray and pink flannel, open black hoodie, gray jeans, and multi-colored bracelets. Colin is a skinny white man with blonde hair that's short at the top and long at the back in a ponytail with a receding hairline, a mustache and patchy facial hair, and body hair. He is wearing rectangular glasses with yellow lenses, a tan t-shirt with a yellow graphic, an unbuttoned pale blue button-down, an open tan hoodie, black watch, brown belt, and blue jeans. Alice is standing raising her hands in the "devil horns" gesture while making a yelling expression. Colin is hunched over, clutching a microphone and yelling into it with a dark expression and scratchy music notes around him.

The last image shows Alice wearing a grey tank top with one strap hanging off, grey jeans with ripped knees, and a brown and red flannel tied around her waist. She is in profile sitting with her hands between her knees, with her head tilted back a bit and winking and sticking her tongue out with a little pink star next to her. end ID]

~~~~

been thinking a lot about Them so have some bits of them <3

feat my headcanon that alice takes colin out for metal karaoke aggretsuko style