#but now that I have in fact noticed it

[roylustang]

I just exfoliated my arms and they are literally an entire shade paler now.

[starflungwaddledee]

Gimme that GOOD shit girlie 💅✨ (Starstruck x Galacta knight)

✧˖°. give up what you love, before it does you in .°˖✧

[solcarow]

seafood trio portraits !

+ some alts. with spoilers !

[viperwhispered]

Rest

Guess what? I've got more Jamil x reader for y'all. You can also find this on ao3. No warnings, just 866 words of kinda fluffy(?) caretaking stuff with gender-neutral reader.

At this point, you know Jamil’s schedule almost as well as he does. So, when you have the chance, you head to Scarabia’s kitchen, hoping to spend some time with Jamil while he and the other students prepare dinner. 

However, when you enter, it takes you but a moment to notice Jamil’s uncharacteristic fumbling and the tired look in his eyes. The way Jamil’s chopping the vegetables has you worried about him cutting himself with that knife he’s usually so adept with, and it seems it’s only force of habit that’s keeping him on track.

You frown, and when your eyes meet Jamil’s, you can already see him put his guard up.

So he knows what state he is in, huh? And still, here he is.

It seems Jamil is reading your thoughts, all of him telling you drop it before any words are even said.

At least he still lets you lean in and give a quick kiss to his cheek in greeting.

“Hello love. Do you still have a lot on your agenda for today?” you ask, keeping your tone low for at least some semblance of privacy in the busy kitchen.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” is the response you get.

Of course.

It takes a little more pestering before Jamil actually answers your question. Your lips purse. That list is far too long to your liking.

You take a moment to think, juggling your own plans and to-do list against the urgency of the things Jamil mentioned.

“Will Kalim be eating from that?” you ask, pointing at the food Jamil is preparing.

“Yes.”

“Alright, I won’t be touching that one, then. I’ve gotta do a few things but I’ll be back when you’re done here.”

“Don’t,” Jamil says with a glare, clearly aware of what you’re thinking.

Yet even his disapproving look doesn’t have the usual weight behind it.

“Yes. I will,” you say firmly, even as your heart curls inwards with another bout of concern.

Really, when did he get so tired?

And how did you not notice it earlier?

You leave the kitchen before Jamil can protest further, hurrying through the dorm corridors to find Kalim.

Soon you have an enthusiastic – and concerned – supporter for your plans. You have Kalim point out a few reliable Scarabia students to help with a few of the most urgent matters Jamil mentioned – cleaning up the common areas, delivering some paperwork to Crowley, preparing some dorm-wide notices – while you see to Kalim getting his school supplies in order for the following day. You even recruit a couple of third years to help Kalim with his homework.

You’ll see to the rest tomorrow – after all, you do also have a boyfriend to look after.

Your conversation over dinner can hardly be called anything else than an argument – despite Kalim’s best attempts at acting as a moderating force between you two. It is very tempting to ask Kalim to tell Jamil to take the rest of the day off – it’s not like Jamil would be willing to openly disobey a direct order. Still, you really don’t need to remind Jamil of his position on top of everything else that you’re already doing more or less against his wishes.

Eventually, however, Jamil’s had a square meal, the most urgent things on his to-do list are being taken care of, and you’ve managed to drag him to his bed.

“I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around Jamil. You’re telling yourself you really do just want to cuddle, to offer some respite to Jamil. Still, there might also be a part of you worried that if you were to let go, he’d just jump up and get back to working himself to the bone.

Yet, for all his protestations, just the fact that you’ve gotten Jamil to lay down with you speaks volumes of his current exhaustion.

“I can’t just leave my duties, albi. You know this.”

“Making yourself too indispensable, is what you’re doing,” you protest.

Oh, you know it’s not so simple. Not with his background, not with all the expectations and assumptions.

But sometimes you really wish it would be.

Jamil merely scoffs in response to your words.

Still, it is undeniable that he is slowly beginning to relax in your arms, slowly bringing his head closer to yours. His eyes are starting to flutter, too.

“I will still need to help Kalim with his homework, at the very least.”

You wonder who he is trying to convince more, you or himself.

“Amin and Khalil are helping him. They’re basically top of their classes, aren’t they? I’m sure they’ve got it.”

Still, Jamil frowns.

You sigh. He really is not letting go, is he?

“Do you want me to go supervise?” you ask.

And leave you, unsaid yet hanging there right after your words.

“Don’t,” Jamil eventually says, the word barely more than a breath.

It seems he has accepted his fate.

You softly caress Jamil’s hair, listening to his softening breathing.

And when you wake up, wholly unaware of having been lulled to sleep in the first place, it’s to the lightest of touches from Jamil’s fingers.

Tagging @diodellet @twstgo @crystallizsch @jamilvapologist @jamilsimpno69 as per request If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, let me know!

[front-facing-pokemon]

[dnpg-hiatus-survivor]

[rox-of-iu]

ayoo guess who finally sat down and caught up with cultivate B)

is me. so you know what that means.

spoiler warning for cultivate ch 30-37

there was actually.... more things i wanted to draw but I already did so many I had to physically restrain myself hfsjkkdh anyway yes can you tell i love this fic very much

yet once again. cultivate by the wonderful @neonghostcat

[moeblob]

You know, when I kept getting asked "so you didn't ever have severe pains before now?" in the hospital and I kept replying "I have a high pain tolerance" I meant it. However, there is only so much pain my tiny 4'9" body can hold... (aka I am sweating and in agony bc I'm getting told to use LESS severe pain meds so I don't rely on them too much and it is AWFUL)

[sleepanonymous]

I am never forgiving Vessel for closing Sundowning with the song Blood Sport and opening This Place Will Become Your Tomb with Atlantic. Sir how could you do that to your fans? This is just too painful 😭😭

[kaiiscottage]

꒰ Yuuri’s blue prince ♡ ꒱

[fuckingguide]

undefined

They ain’t even looking at you, baby, they looking at me | Guillermo de la Cruz + Looking At Me by Sabrina Carpenter

[annihilatius]

[slavhew]

fun fact the word "dirk" sounds exactly like the root of the croatian verb "drkati" which means to jack off

get the dirk brush here

[obey-me-headquarters]

So, I haven't gotten too far into Nightbringer to write any specific smut for it. (Literally only just started lesson 6). But I do have some ideas!!

A lot of my ideas revolve around being the demon's "first" in something. Like, you know your demons inside and out at this point. You know all their kinks, fantasies, and where to touch them to make them squirm. So you can introduce them to all sorts of things that make them scream in the future but they have no experience with now.

For example, showing Lucifer how much of a masochist he is. I don't think Lucifer is a complete virgin in Nightbringer as I think he fooled around as an angel at least a few times. I mean, he's still a few thousand years old, he was bound to get curious and try getting frisky with a few angels. But him trying out BDSM? I seriously doubt it.

So once you and him finally fall into bed together, you show him all the ways he didn't know he loved to be touched. Having such an inexperienced Lucifer is a bit of a novelty and a bit of an annoyance. Present day Lucifer knew what he wanted and he wasn't ashamed of asking for it. The Lucifer you're currently bedding? Doesn't know what he wants.

It's actually really cute how shy Lucifer is. How he tries so hard to stifle his moans when you heard much louder, much needier ones from your present Lucifer.

And you don't want to push him. It's entirely possible that past Lucifer has no interest in BDSM. That his particular taste for masochism and being owned evolved after many centuries.

But you still want to try, to possibly open his eyes to a new world of domination and submission.

So one evening, one careful evening you've been planning for. One evening in which you make sure that his brothers haven't wreaked havoc, one evening where Diavolo doesn't up to distract Lucifer cause him stress. One perfect, relaxing evening, you spring the question onto him.

"Lucifer, have you heard about BDSM?" You ask in your most light, most casual tone to not raise any alarm bells and spook the demon.

Lucifer pauses his undressing, his hands suspended in the air as his tie hangs loosely around his neck. He turns to you in slow motion, looking so bewildered and confused that it makes you want to laugh. Surely your demon couldn't be that pure right? You know he's only been a demon for a little more than a year now, but, come on.

"I'm sorry, have I heard about what?"

"BDSM! Like, Bondage, Domination, Submissive, Masochism. Have you heard of people doing that sort of thing in bed?"

Lucifer's face turns a bright scarlet and he turns away from you. Like, actually physically turning his full back to you, turning away from you. You can see his ears still burning though, and elect not to tease him about it in worry that if you do, Lucifer might become so embarrassed he'll stop being the Avatar of Pride.

"It's fine if you haven't. If you would rather I never bring it up again say the word and I wouldn't." You tell him, concern starting to creep in.

"No. No, it's fine. I just. Why did you choose to bring that topic up?" He asks stiffly, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. A classical Lucifer "I'm nervous about this topic because it inflicts Feelings in me" move.

"I was just wondering. I have been in dom/sub relationships in the, um, past, and was wondering if that was something you'll be into," you say gently, so extremely gently. "It's fine if that's not something you're into." You add.

"You have?" He asks in surprise, and because you know him so well, with a hint of excitement. "What... what role did you fall into?"

Relief crashes into you like a tidal wave. He's into it. He's really into it from what you can tell. He hasn't had any experience with subbing, you know because your Lucifer didn't when you meet him, but he was so desperate to finally try he practically threw himself at your feet.

Not this Lucifer though. This Lucifer most likely knows of the idea, maybe he picked up some porn featuring a dom/sub relationship and knows on some level that he's interested in subbing, but hasn't had the time to stew in that knowledge like your Lucifer did.

"Dominate." You say with confidence, a grin painting your face. "I like control in the bedroom."

And judging by the shiver that shoots up Lucifer's spine at your words, so does he.

Grinning, you stand and begin stalking towards your prey.

"I like taking control of my partner. Make them beg for relief. And if they misbehave, I like to punish them."

"Do. Do you?" Lucifer asks breathlessly.

You're standing behind him and you know he knows you're there. His demon sense picking up on it, and by the way he almost leans backward as if to meet your touch, you know he wants you.

"I do." You state confidently, mere inches away from Lucifer.

"But," your hand grasps Lucifer's shoulder and he flinches. "If my partner didn't want that...." You give him a light pull and he complies, turning to face you.

And oh, what a sight that is.

You missed your subby little Luci. You missed his cute moans, his tears as you edged him, and his screams when you overstimulated him. And you missed his flushed face when you lowered him into subspace.

And this? This perfectly mimics that face.

"Oh, baby." You breathe out, fighting the urge to pepper his face in kisses and pull him into your chest.

"And what if I do? Would you do those things to me?" Lucifer asks, and you're so, so proud of him for asking.

"Darling, I would do all that and more." You say as you kiss him.

Like your Lucifer did in the past, like he will do in the future, he lets you take control.

[sallymew4]

hi guys

(forever) wips below are: scene redraw (that i actually started on way before posting mobsai here. crazy !), and teru in an outfit i saw at the mall once (denim dress. dress made of NOTHING but denim. it caught me off-guard but i think i was just being too harsh <3 he was going to wear those galaxy leggings all middle schoolers wear with it as well)

originally this post was just gonna be me posting pretty old wips that i never finished cuz ive been sick (i actually feel way better now tho) and lazy but then i started perusing some more of my older mobsai doodles and unfinished arts and decided to post those alongside the ones above :) i just think its fun to see how my art has developed grown and changed over a period of time, especially with the designs of these characters

if ur interested in lookin at suma those vv

thunder claps welcome

reminder and warning that a lot of these were me still kind of figuring out how to draw them so they will NOT be beautiful picasso

i think this was the first digital mob i ever drew..... he was born august of last year..wow

i was incredibly weak for father reigen if you couldn't tell [sarcasm]

i also didnt know how his suit worked. lol

soryr i was mean 2o u serizwaw sir. anwyays

various ritus (ft teru) vv i made him very hateful because i thought it was funny

v v supa unfinished (obviously) pre-mob teru stuff, just hanging out by roof railing

and then there was a looot of what might be my favorite genre of these, which were just goofy little scribbles

that last one i made in the middle of watching the last episode. i promptly teared up in the bathroom after finishing it

anyways thats pretty much it, for digital anyways :) i like looking back on art, cuz then im like "oh wow, improvement IS real" (i always forget). ill try drawin some moar stuff 4or yalls, i already gots sumthn in the works. oka bye thank you for looking !!11!

[kulemiwrites]

𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏| 𝐀𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐚

Part: i of iii

Genre: Romance, Eventual Smut

Rating: 18+

Word count: 5.1k

Character(s): Akira Nishikiyama, fem!Reader

Warning: Do not read if the idea of an f/o having previous partners or you being the object of envy is upsetting to you. Also, this is not an established relationship fic. Too long for tumblr? Read on AO3

Nishikiyama is a regular at your club and he's quite popular amongst your coworkers. He tends to be at the center of all the hot gossip backstage and now, so are you. Word is, you're the latest notch on his bedpost and more than privy to his secret talent. Are the rumors true?

There were names that you became familiar with after spending any amount of time in the Kamurocho nightlife. Some were names of people to watch out for- bad news, dangerous, some of the last people in town you’d want to cross paths with. Some were known for simply throwing their weight around- flashing their cash, accompanied by muscle, having a pissy fit whenever they didn’t quite get their way. There were also the names of the guy or gal you went to when you really needed to know something or to have something done. Or perhaps they just had a bit of a… reputation– word got around about them. Depending on who you spoke to in town, Akira Nishikiyama could have fit into any one of those categories.

You’d never seen much of his violent side but you knew perfectly well how capable he was of it. He’d offered a hand to security once when a customer got a tad too “friendly” with you. He never quite threw a tantrum but he wasn’t above spilling a wad of cash on the podium to get ahead of the line when there was a wait. However, there was one thing you couldn’t deny without a shadow of a doubt: Nishikiyama had quite the reputation.

He wasn’t the most popular with men from what you could tell. Even the men he’d come into the club with seemed to give him a bit of a hard time. Sometimes he seemed to take it in stride. Other times, through the fury in his sharp brown glare you could see that there seemed to be a silent promise of a brawl outside once the session was over.

The women however, fell over themselves to get to him. You couldn’t say that you didn’t see the appeal. He was handsome– beyond handsome, sometimes when you sat with him and watched him lower his defenses enough to smile and laugh, he was quite beautiful even. His hair had more volume than some of the girls in the dressing room. He was no slouch either. Every single one of his suits were designer– you didn’t know which designers but after being in this business for long enough, you could tell the difference between a tailored, brand name suit and a shoddy, discount shop suit trying to pass itself off as one. There was never even a speck of dirt on his shiny leather shoes. 

And he always smelled absolutely divine-- Fresh. Woody. Something, something, sensual masculinity. You didn’t know the right words but it alone was captivating. Even you could find yourself lost in that aroma and unconsciously bow over hoping for more.

There was a draw to him.

However, it wasn’t just his good looks that had the girls dying to swarm him like flies to honey. He had charm, too. It was hard to miss, especially when he routinely surrounded himself with charmless buffoons. 

He stood out and he made it seem effortless.

Nishikiyama had been your regular for a year, at least. Perhaps you’d been seeing him for longer but you only decided to start paying attention to how often he would request you when your coworkers began to complain. When he first began visiting the club, infrequently, every couple months or so, he’d take any girl he’d been sat with but after seeing you a few times, he seemed to increase his visits– how often he saw you. 

He’d begun to show up about once or twice a week, each time with a different ensemble of men in his entourage– familiar faces but never quite the exact same group. If he was the first to arrive, which he typically was, you were requested. He’d take no one else. It mattered none to him that you were busy. If he couldn’t bri– pay to have you reassigned from whoever you were serving originally, he’d take a placeholder and wait until you were available. Either way, he’d see you before the night was over.

He wasn’t the most patient about it but still, he’d wait, craning his neck around the room until you made your way over to him.

This behavior of his had begun to cause a bit of a stir in the dressing room and in the beginning you’d done your best to ignore it but you were now at your wits end. 

There were…rumors about Akira Nishikiyama and many of them circulated in the dressing room then made their way out into the streets of Kamurocho. Then, vice versa. It wasn’t as if you wanted to hear them. You never even asked but the information always managed to find its way to you somehow; be it an overheard conversation or someone giddily whispering over your shoulder what they’d just “found out”. In their minds, they thought it to be vital information for you. 

After all, you were allegedly Nishikiyama’s “favorite”.

Some of the rumors were silly, nothing that anyone should have bothered to concern themselves with. Things like: A friend of a friend had given him her number and he’d never called her! What a jerk, right? Or, he’d dated some college girl a few summers ago and then suddenly broke it off and ever since she’d been telling everyone that she wants him back. Whose business was that anyway? Then, there were other things you would hear, that, even though you pretended not to care, it did perk your ears juuust a little. 

There was a hostess that used to work with you a couple months ago who quit- reasons unknown. Word in the dressing room was that they had a bit of a “thing” together– a one night stand. She wouldn’t stop bringing it up whenever he showed up and requested you instead of her. Essentially, every time he showed up... You supposed it was meant to make you jealous but in reality, it only made you question why he’d go after such a bratty girl to begin with. 

You questioned his taste, sure, but, jealous? Of course not.

You had another coworker who alleged to have hooked up with him too but she’d only mentioned it once or twice after going out drinking with the others after work. The rest did the legwork for her. 

At the risk of making the man sound a tad promiscuous, there were quite a few different stories going around about him. All from different women. And although the stories all started differently, they typically ended the same way: Nishikiyama-kun went down on me and gave me the best orgasm of my life.

Again, it wasn’t as if you wanted to know these things but hearing that same conclusion time and time again did make you slightly curious. You had to admit. Could he really be that good? Then, you’d mentally kick yourself anytime you found the thought circulating in your mind. He was your regular– you shouldn’t be entertaining such thoughts even in absolute jest. 

One had to maintain a level of professionalism here.

His notoriety amongst the ladies and his proclivity for you, though, had begun to make work a little unbearable. Where you once fell under the radar, you were now under the spotlight– right there with Nishikiyama and his wagging tongue. The gossip had gone from simply being about him and various faceless women in town to being about you, specifically.

And so, you became an object of resentment and envy.

In their minds, if you’d been hooking up with the man after hours, why not just come clean like the others? Also, you were raking it in when he stopped by! That had to go against some sort of guideline. You had to answer to managers on multiple occasions that, no, you were not having casual sex with a customer and yes, you did understand that went against club policy. The ladies couldn’t understand why the hell he would be giving you so much attention if you weren’t selling the goods on the side. You knew deep down the managers didn’t really care as it was bringing in a hefty, steady flow of cash but they were posturing to keep the others happy. 

You got it from both ends and it pissed you off immensely because there wasn’t the slightest bit of truth to any of it.

In fact, the infamous “Nishikiyama-kun~” hadn’t come on to you once since he’d started requesting you all that time ago. Things were no different with him than they were with the rest of your customers and you were sure that your coworkers knew that as they tended to stand around and seethe and stare as you worked if they weren’t paired off with you. 

You were the friendly hostess– the one that customers could count on to help cheer them up after a rough day. The listening ear, the shoulder to cry on. You were the one who lifted their spirits and made them laugh. That was your role. You weren’t quite equipped to play the seductress that they were all accusing you of being. Whenever your clients had their moods lifted high enough and were leaning in for something a little more playful, or romantic in nature, you called in reinforcements.

Even so, he’d always seemed to go at your pace. Never once have you ever had to pass him off to someone else and it sort of begged the question: What gives? If he was such a casanova picking up girls here and over yonder, why the hell hasn’t he ever tried anything with you? Were you not his type or something? It wasn’t as if you wanted him to hit on you– Gosh, anything but! But… 

Well, you’d at least like the courtesy of shooting him down. 

After everything you’d heard about the guy from the others, you thought, well, it’d just be polite!

“______!” the floor manager shouted your name, startling you as you reapplied your lipstick in the mirror. 

The crimson had smeared past your lip line and down your chin. You looked up at him, making cold eye contact with his reflection in the mirror. You could see him biting back a smile as he pressed his palms together. 

“Yeah?”

“One of your regulars is here to see you,” he said.

You cleaned the smeared lipstick, continuing to look up at him. “Alright, who is it?” But you didn’t really need to ask, you had a hunch.

“Nishikiyama-sama.” he said curtly.

“I see.” you said, fixing the neckline of your dress. “Let him know I’ll be out in a bit.”

The man bowed, “Of course.”

The woman at the vanity next to yours, a veteran at the club, shot you a dirty look. “‘Of course’.” she echoed.

You were so exhausted with the catty attitudes but you tried to at least respect the hierarchy of the place, as much as it pained you. So, you lifted yourself from the stool to excuse yourself and meet with your client. Before turning, you scanned your vanity for things that he’d previously gifted you with and decided on wearing them instead. So, you swapped the emerald and gold necklace for the pearl pendant he’d brought you last week. You spritzed yourself with the perfume from last month and slipped on the bracelet from the beginning of it all. You passed over your reflection one last time before heading toward the velvet curtains.

Perhaps it was a little embarrassing to say but Nishiki felt at home whenever he’d come to this place. The drinks were a bit watered down and overpriced but the food wasn’t bad and the service was phenomenal. He didn’t always feel that way though. In fact, it took more than a few tries to get it right and usually, he gave up on a place when it failed to satisfy him the first time. After all, every 10 paces, there’s another hostess club with the same damn drink menu with the same damn food with the same damn tropes of women to pawn off to the men willing to waste their time and money.

But not every single one of those clubs had a girl like you in it. 

To say you were cute would have been an absolute understatement but that wasn’t what kept him coming back. Kamurocho was the land of beautiful women. It was the way you did your job. You suspected that he had money– he saw you size him up when you first greeted him but you never tried to upsell him on anything. If you were attracted to him, he sure as hell couldn’t tell. You never pushed yourself up on him or puffed out your chest, grabbed onto him or played in his hair like the treatment he’s used to at these sorts of places. You simply filled his drink, kept him company and looked absolutely stunning doing it. 

Sometimes, you helped him relax– other times, you were the reason that he couldn’t but he’d never let you see him sweat… 

Sure, he did have nights when he wanted to go out and have a cute girl go all out flirting with him every once in a while but he had other places for that. This place was where he went to take it easy or schmooze or both and he’d sing its praises (and yours) to anyone that’d listen. Hence why he brought so many people here– that and, he did have days where… and he couldn’t explain it but he just had a strong desire to hear your voice and see you, admire your smile and laugh, eyes and when you wouldn’t notice, your figure. 

Tonight was one of those nights, the desire to just have you near him was so unbelievably strong but he feared his party this evening wasn’t the most hometrained. They just might’ve blown his cover if he wasn’t careful enough.

He sat back against the teal, chenille banquette, arms stretched along the back while his right leg crossed loosely over the left, foot rocking above his knee. He’d been smirking as his two old buddies from middle school debated inappropriately about what they would and wouldn’t do in bed. He reached forward and grabbed his lit cigarette from the ashtray as the conversation pivoted to oral sex. These guys were absolute goobers with no game at all. He hoped they’d stop by the time the girls arrived to keep them company or else they’d just start telling on themselves.

This should be good. He thought, right eye narrowing a bit as he softly hollowed his cheeks on inhale.

“I just don’t get how guys can stomach it for that long. A couple of licks and I’m over it.” his buddy Miura with a wife and two kids said.

Muira was a loyal friend but he wasn’t so much as a husband and to hear he was also a selfish lover, Nishiki could see why things turned out the way they did. He released his smoke and chuckled.

“‘A couple licks’?” he repeated incredulously. 

His other friend, Takagi, folded his arm over his rounded belly and smiled proudly, “I do just enough to get ‘em wet then I stick it in.”

Nishiki’s eyes widened. He shook his head as he rubbed at his bottom lip with his cigarette wielding hand. “You guys are horrific. I don’t even want to imagine the horror stories those poor girls are going back and telling their friends about you.”

Miura clicked his tongue, “Who cares what stories they tell. I know what really happened!”

Nishiki raised a brow at his friend and teased, “What, that you didn’t make them cum?”

“That’s not true!” the man denied, his face quickly growing red. “I’ve made loads of ladies cum! I always make them cum! Every single one of them!”

“Somehow I doubt that, Mr. Two Licks I’m Out.” Nishiki laughed. 

Takagi rested his arms on his knees and stared at their friend with a look of concern. “Say, Miura, why you making it sound like you get so much pussy or somethin’ anyway? I’m really thinkin’ of tellin’ your wife at this point. I mean, think of the kids.”

“She’s the one that started screwin’ that damn rice farmer!” 

“Awww.” Nishiki and Takagi said in false sympathy. Muira had long forgotten he’d drunkenly admitted to his wife finding out about his regular cheating and agreeing to stay together for the sake of the kids but she would be stepping out in the meantime. Neither of them felt bad for him. 

Great friend, horrible husband.

Your voice, as lovely as the last he’d heard it– two nights ago to be exact, cut into his banter with his friends and he tried to make sure he wasn’t too responsive when he turned to meet it. He was glad you didn’t have a stethoscope attached to his chest or otherwise you’d hear his heart playing blast beats. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” you chirped, your hands clasped in between your thighs as you bowed deeply.  

You were wearing that cute, knee length dress you’d just bought last week. He remembered you being so excited about it when you described it to him. He was subtle about his eyes when they scanned you from top to bottom before you swiped your pretty, manicured hands beneath your perfect ass to pull your dress taut before taking your usual seat beside him.  He softly took his bottom lip in between his teeth and tilted his head to the side as he tried to regulate his breathing. 

Fuck, you looked amazing tonight. You looked amazing every night but tonight you had a certain glow about you. He could just eat you up… 

Figuratively, of course.

“It’s alright.” he said, finally releasing his lip and noting that a couple of unfortunate girls have paired off with his friends. “You’re a popular girl. That’s what I get for going after the best in the house, right?”

You gave him a polite smile and fumbled with your hands which were still in your lap as your eyes darted in between your coworkers. You’d never gone for flattery but usually you’d at least brush him off with a laugh. Instead, he sensed tension and this wasn’t the first time.

He removed his arms from behind the booth, positioning his clasped hands into the lap of his spread legs. He wasn’t even sure why he’d done it just that he was compelled to do it. 

“So, Nish–” 

“By the way–”

You both spoke, interrupting one another. You giggled, so precious, then offered him the floor. Nishiki searched your face before leaning in, you smelled amazing. Familiar. He knew that he’d smelled this scent before but this wasn’t what you typically smelled like. At least, he didn’t remember you smelling like this the other night. He should have remembered. When did you change perfumes? Wait, was this the one he’d gotten you and if so, why did it smell better now than when he smelled it at the store? 

“Nishikiyama-san?” you said, when he continued to subtly hover over to you saying nothing. “Are you okay?” 

Shit. He needed to get himself together. He was better than this.

“Sorry, I just noticed that you…” he mumbled, rubbing the tip of his nose as he realized he was at risk of losing his ‘flying under the radar’ game with a comment like this. “smell different.”

He watched you beam as you tucked your chin into your shoulder, bringing your manicured fingers to your chest, “You noticed! I didn’t think you would.”

“And why wouldn’t I?” he asked, folding his arms across his own chest playfully. You were the only damn girl in the place he paid any attention to. He’d notice if you plucked/waxed your eyebrows, if you dyed your hair or even if the color painted on your fucking toes was different since he’d last saw you.

You were his favorite.

You teased your hair, eyes dancing between his, “I don’t know. Most guys give us gifts and don’t remember that they’ve given them to us. Some people give gifts just to win favor or out of feelings of obligation– Or shut certain people up.”

Your voice lowered, and you rocked yourself in his direction to whisper that last part. He laughed. He usually hated workplace gossip when he went to these places but he’d listen to you tell him who was getting new tatami mats for their house if that’s what you had on your chest that day. 

Speaking of chests, it wasn’t lost on him that your neckline was sort of plunging. You’d had some of the most gorgeous skin that he’d ever seen, amongst other things– except, he’s not supposed to be seeing it. If he’d been playing this properly, you had no inkling that he was even into you. There’d be no reason for you to suspect that the reason that the sweat beading around his hairline had likely come from the stress of avoiding any undue glances at the valley of your breasts and not the heat of the building.

“You think I don’t notice things, huh?”

He lost. 

He snuck a peek but it was perfect– as were you, by the way. 

“I got you that necklace, didn’t I?” he asked rhetorically, eyeing the necklace and absolutely nothing else. “Let’s see…”

You hid your folded hands in your lap once again and he reached delicately for the decorated forearm.

“That bracelet….”

You gasped dramatically.

“C’mon, I point that out every time you wear it…” he said, attempting to fight off the sheepish feeling that had been creeping up on him. “The perfume is new, though.”

“That’s because I wore it for the first time just for you tonight.”

His heart skipped a couple of beats and his ears rang. He had to look away. He didn’t really care where his gaze fell but he wanted to make sure he appeared as disinterested as possible. Fuck. The room was spinning, though. He scanned his friends who had long since forgotten his existence just as he’d forgotten theirs. He half rolled his head to crack his neck then stretched his arms back out onto the booth as he called to his friends.

“Miura, Takagi. We’ve been sitting here a while.” he said. “I say we order something.”

“You're paying right, Nishikiyama?” Miura laughed then tapped his hostess with his elbow. “Sweetheart, bring me the most expensive shit you got!”

When he looked at you, you went into your default, robotic menu presentation. He hated doing what he’d just done but he was never sure what to make of the things you said. He was sure you said sweet things like that to any man that came in and gave you gifts. You weren’t the only one he’d given a gift to either but you were the only one that made him feel things when he saw them again– the only one he put thought into while shopping for.

He lowered the menu in your hands and smiled, “You know what I like. Take care of me, yeah?”

You nodded, then turned to raise your hand to call over a server. 

Nishiki pulled open the pocket of his maroon jacket to retrieve his pack of cigarettes and lighter then watched as you placed his usual order. He should’ve waited to let you light it for him but he’d gone into a trance. Even when doing something as simple as asking for liquor and greasy food, you looked like a divine being. Simply otherworldly. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off and had been off for some time now.

He blew out a puff of smoke that obscured his view of your side profile and once you were facing him again, it cleared and he could see it clear as day. 

There was a crack in your transcendence. 

What were you in need of?

How could he relieve you?

—

The usual 90 minute session plus extra hour extension that Nishiki tended to get with you flew by as it always did. His friends had left 30 minutes earlier- Miura, to get back to the wife and kids and Takagi to not risk cutting it close for the last train of the evening. So, there was no longer any need for the other two hostesses that accompanied you during the session. That just left him to spend the remainder of the time alone with you but he had no complaints about that.

He contemplated all evening when or even if, he should bring it up especially since he wasn’t certain at the time. Now that there was no one left but the two of you, it was clear as day. When your coworkers were there, you seemed quite anxious. You seemed to go into a quiet panic when he’d say certain things to you, too– which were never bad but if he had to wager, you must have been worried about them being taken out of context. Now that the girls were gone, you seemed calmer albeit still a bit tense.

He couldn’t just leave it alone.

He wasn’t sure what was going on but he suspected this place had much to do with it. He’d whisk you away if he could, even if only for one night.

“Say,” he said, placing his empty, sweating glass onto the table of chaos. “Where do you take up after hours anyway?”

Your confused expression was one of your cutest ones but he was sure his question was quite clear. You could fool anyone else but he wouldn’t let you try it with him.

“You’ve told me about your hobbies and stuff but you’ve never really told me what you like to do after work. How do you unwind?”

“Uh…” you trailed off and nothing else followed. 

You shared a lot about yourself but there tended to be many things that you seemed to prefer to keep private. He wanted to know as much as there was to know about you. He wished that you would become an open book and show him all of your pages, even the unrefined, ripped and scratched out ones that you hid from everyone else. 

“Don’t tell me you go home and do nothing?” he teased. “You know, your coworkers go out to hit the bars and clubs right after their shifts are done.”

You stared at him in silence for a moment too long then muttered, “Of course you would know.” as you looked away.

Something in that expression worried him. This time, he couldn’t even hide it if he wanted to. He felt his brows twitch together as he turned toward you on the banquette, resting his forearms on his knees. What the fuck has he done now?

“What do you mean?”

You shrugged, rolling your fingers over your thumb appearing indifferent. “I’ve heard about you…”

Oh. That. He could almost laugh but he didn’t.

He had been your regular for a year and 4 months, occasional client a couple times before that and this is only now coming up? It made his lips curl, his ears perk and his mouth salivate. What was it to you anyway? 

What, did you want to know if the rumors were true too?

“Yeah?” he tried his best to contain his smile and so, he licked his lips instead. “And? Tell me… What am I famous for?”

He wanted so badly to tease you for the way your eyes popped then averted. He could feel the heat rising from you just from where he sat. Anywhere else, he might’ve given you a really hard time. But you were working, after all and he wasn’t sure if you realized it but, you two seemingly had an audience of employees pretending to be busy.

“The girls say that you’ve invited them out to hook up and never call them back or something.”

Or something, but something told him you knew the whole story. Cute.

“That’s the scoop, huh? So, I’m a hostess hopper, then?” He tightened his lips as he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Alright, well. Do you want the truth or a lie?”

You scrunched your nose up at him, “I don't care to know your business but if I did, obviously I’d want the truth. What kind of question is that?”

His eyes scanned the room, noting your coworkers staring not-so-subtly as he rubbed his back against the teal seating, “I did recognize at least two girls here that I’ve been with before.”

“‘At least’?”

He nodded, tilting his head as he looked at you with a tired expression. “The thing is though, I didn’t realize they worked here until after it happened. It’s not as if I found them here and asked them out– They just so happened to be where I was. We talked. One thing lead to another–”

You waved a dismissive hand at him, letting him know that he was giving more information than you needed and wanted. “I think I get the jist. I know how hook-ups work, Nishikiyama-san.”

Nishiki straightened his posture and looked you square in the eye. “Just know that I never met them here and invited them out anywhere.”

“You know, Nishikiyama-san, I’m not sure that I really care all that much…” you said scratching your temple. “I’m not even sure why you’re telling me this.”

He had a buzz that helped him gather the confidence to do what he was about to do but he could feel it leaving him as soon his heart began to pound against his chest again.

“Because I want you to understand the difference when I tell you that I won’t pressure you, but if you’re looking for a change of pace once you’re done for the night…” he began, reaching into his wallet to retrieve a business card with an address, number and someone else’s name on it. “I recommend this bar. It’s run by a friend of mine. It’s a really nice place to unwind– never gets crowded. I’ll be headed there some time after this.”

He handed you the card and when you grabbed the other end of it, he continued to hold his end as he scanned your face. “This is what it looks like when I actually invite someone out.”

“Um,” you started. “I’m not promising that I’ll be there but–”

You’re nervous and you’re questioning his intentions. He can see it in your eyes.

“Excuse me sir but your session extension has expired.” a server interrupted but Nishiki ignored him. This was far more important.

“You’ll think about it?” he asked, finally releasing the card with a hopeful smile.

You smiled one final time before standing up out of your seat to do your session closing. “I’ll think about it.”

He rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants and nodded. “That’s all a guy could hope for.”

Part 2

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