#loving someone and hating someone both are active processes

[btspeedfreaxx]

You know you are living in a Dystopian world when the Government starts cracking down on FANFICTION.

Yes, I am Canadian, but as someone who considers themselves to be a Sex positive enthusiast, I’m so beyond Enraged and Disgusted over the “policy’s” that these Corrupt-“Christian” politicians are trying to implement.

teaching, no sorry ENFORCING Abstinence-Education, aka “wait until marriage” DOES NOT WORK, unless you actively believe in that practice!

These @$$hat’s claim they are trying to protect the people- BULLSH!T.🤬

By implementing such a dangerous system, and shaming those who so dare to go against the standard system-

By not teaching these kids consent, or how body parts work, or what you can do to protect yourself from people, both men and woman, who may want to take advantage of you-

You as the “educators” are setting up the stats to SKYROCKET for Young teens to bare the traumatic cross of Early teen pregnancies, Sexual Violence, etc!

And Further more- call me Delusional, but Having access to Porn ,(* Ethically sourced and in doeses that don’t overtake your public life, may I emphasize,) IS ACTUALLY HEALTHY!! Stuff like Smut Fiction allows for young people who may be figuring out their sexualities a SAFE SPACE to explore. It can prove to be a great tool in helping people to create the pathways, boundaries of what they like and what they don’t like.

It’s ESPECIALLY important, because down the road, assuming you don’t practice abstinence, you and your partner are going to have to have a very open and honest conversation about BOUNDARIES when it comes time to taking that next step in the bedroom. Again, if that’s what you choose.

God, I’m sorry…. But I am just SO furious with what’s been unfolding before my eyes, so much for “The land of the free”. 🤬

To all my American friends who are in distress over the recent election. To all my trans Friends, Gay/LGBTQ+ friends, friends of Colour, different race, and of all marginalized communities. I am so f*cking sorry. I cried an endless river when I saw the results of the election… I’m not shocked. Just angered and ashamed. Ashamed at how much hate has overtaken our world. Just because we are all trying to coexist. I don’t think Harris would have been a godsend to America by any means. But she would have been a far better fate then what we who fought so hard to get to where we are now are having to face. This shouldn’t be happening to you guys. And I fear my country may not be too far behind in these deranged ideologies taking over our governments.

But please know you are not alone.🫂🫂 whatever you do, DO NOT GIVE UP. Do not end it here. You are proof that love still exists on this planet. All of standing here, today, for all those who sacrificed our own lives to give us the life they so desperately wanted all of us to have. We are now the resistance. We are the next bearers of that torch. Grieve, process your feelings, reach out to friends and building yourself a support system. Do whatever you need to do in order to survive.

Yesterday. We grieve. Today? We Organize.

We stand our Ground, and make a vow to keep on going. Excruciating times are heading our way. But we’ve faced it before, and this community has come out stronger every single time.

We’ve been here long since before the creation of the Bible- and we will NEVER go away.

We will fight to protect our God-given right to exist here, on earth. Not out of hatred. But out of Spite, and out of LOVE.🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️✨♾️✊🏻 Because love will always win.

🫂🫂🫂 everyone please stay safe out there. I’d like to end this ridiculously long rant by stating that my tumblr page is a Safe space for Woman, For Trans/LGBTQ+ individuals, and for people of all races, colours and minority groups. I love you all.✨

If any one of my posts is to break containment, make it this one.

Before January 2025, download your favorite fics, especially those with smut or queer content.

If Project 2025 goes into effect (which it very likely will now that we have three red branches of government in the US), they may attempt to restrict the use/sharing of media on sites like ao3.

This particularly applies to fics with smut or any type of queer content, because the official Project 2025 document states, "Pornography, manifested today in the omnipresent propagation of transgender ideology and sexualization of children, for instance... has no claim to First Amendment protection... Pornography should be outlawed."

Now, I don't expect ao3 to disappear or go anywhere without a fight, but it's best to be on the safe side these days.

To download your favorite fics:

Go to archiveofourown.org and open the fic you want to download.

At the top right corner, to the right of the 'subscribe' button, is a button that says 'download'. Click it.

A drop-down menu will give you the option to choose the format of your download. Choose your preferred format (.epub and .pdf are my personal favorites -- .epub lets you open a fic in the apple books app and .pdf is compatible with like every device and program out there).

When you click the button for your preferred format, a pop-up window appears confirming your choices. The title of the document will default to the title of the fic, so be aware of that and consider changing conspicuous titles to something ignorable, especially if you share the computer.

You're done! Now do this with all your favorite fics!

Stay safe out there, your favorite characters are rooting for you <3

[alenablack]

real enemies to lovers is so intriguing because it perfectly displays how fine the line between love and hate really is. hate is one perspective shift away from love and vice versa.

both love & hate are passionate feelings; and require a similar level of investment.

[codnasties]

kinktober ₊˚ · ♡ ·˚₊ soap & gaz ₊˚ · ♡ ·˚₊ roommates

soap and gaz decided to move in together, trying to escape possible loneliness and having someone to share day to day activities. but the soap got himself a pretty thing, those habits changed a bit - as in soap being a horny dog and needing to fuck you as much as he can -. and even though gaz already knew that johnny was an exhibitionist and that he loves being heard and watched - that shit get him horny, plagues his fantasies and it happening straight up makes him cum harder -, kyle believed that soap had some decency and would respect their shared space.

but no. there is no way soap is not being loud, slapping sounds and your and his moans filling the room. and the biggest affected by that is his brit roommate, that has to hear you getting fucked everyday, since the both of you are loud enough to seep onto the hallway and pierce through the walls.

now the thing is, johnny knows his mate is going to be forcibly listening, that he's going to hear the plaping, the wet noises your middle makes, the moans and the whole ordeal. kyle is going to be getting off to that, roughly fitting his rock hard cock because how can you expect a lonley young blooded man to not do that?

so soap's exhibitionist ass starts taking things further trying to help his fellow soldier, engaging in sexual acts in common areas such as the living room. sitting fully naked on the sofa, soap getting you to give him a handjob. all of that to show gaz the view of his hard cock and your beautiful naked breasts.

but - sadly for soap and somehow for gaz - kyle didn't catch the two of you, so the scot had to keep trying. he had to scalate things, so he fucks you on said sofa, having you sitting on his lap and plunging up into the pussy that's milking him and making a mess on his abs. and then kyle just makes an appearance, catching the two of you just going at it like fucking dogs in heat. garrick is way too much of a gentleman, so he averts his gaze and runs out of the room - while mactavish just cums in you, because getting walked on is just so hot in his mind. now kyle has the image of your tits and bouncing ass engraved in his mind.

that was the last straw for him. his seemingly infinite patience ends up running out. he can't handle anymore being on the receiving end of johnny's exhibitionist antics, having to witness you being fucked, hearing your noises. trust me when i tell you, he doesn't hate that, no, he hates that he's just an spectator, not being able to get any.

he decides to pay soap back for all those times he was a mere spectator. by fucking you while the scots goes to run some errands. kyle times that shit perfectly so that clueless johnny opens the door to their shared house and hears your loud noises. garrick has learnt over time that curiosity tends to get the best of him, and that his mate is definitely going to be checking what's going on. only to open the door and walk in on you, on top of gaz and grabbing onto the headboard to balance yourself, beceuse of his dick fucking up harshly into you, loving the feeling of your tight pussy trapping him in and the view of your tits jumping jn front of his face. he now understands why soap has to have you at least once a day.

little did kyle know, that this shit was all plated, both you and soap wanted to add him onto your little games and specially have him snap and see that hidden side full of sexual desperation: for him to plunge his tick cock into your sweet pussy with no restrains, getting a taste of what he's been somehow experiencing but never fully getting a full taste to satiate that craving.

and johnny loves it, because the second he processes what's going on in front of him, he's peeling off his clothes as if they have been bothering him. picking you up from kyle's lap, carrying your full weight on his strong arms and lowering your cunt onto his now fully hard cock, letting gaz have a taste of your delicious ass. because he actually is s good roommate and wants him to have the full experience.

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt #3: Of Apples and Academic Frenemies

Au where Jason and Danny are attending the same college course on mythology and classical literature and they are always getting into debates about the depictions of the characters and the historical context of stories and stuff bc the both have a different exposure to the myths. Like Jason knows literal demigods and Amazons but Danny knows Pandora and the Greek myth related ghosts plus time travel from Clockwork and the infi-map. The debates can get heated at times but the respect each others intellectual takes.

This creates a peculiar situation where everyone in the class thinks they are academic rivals who hate each other (except for the few with their shipping goggles on and sense the homoerotic tension underlying their debates) and are deeply invested in watching them interact like their own personal drama even thought at this point in time they are at best friendly acquaintances and at worst annoying classmates.

Jason rants to his family about his debate partner/rival bc he’s happy to have some who will talk to him ad-nauseam abt this stuff but also bc he wants to complain about how Danny's a “smart but annoying little twink who’s got some real audacity”. And while the batfam is happy that Jason is experiencing some normal life things like an academic frenemy they’d love to stop hearing about this guy's “smug fucking smirk” and the “annoying gleam in his eyes". They are worried that Jason will snap and beat this guy up for being too annoying. Well, except Tim who thinks Jason would rather make out with this guy than debate with him.

One day the course decides to do a big themed party/fundraiser to save up for a class trip to an excavation site of some temple ruins or something. Both of them volunteer for the organizing committee bc of the offered extra credit. This encourages the two of them to start seeing each other more and to hang out outside of their classes so the can work on event planning. Over time they actually become pretty good friends (Danny's presence filters Jason's toxic ecto and cures pit rage due to increased exposure. It was happening anyways as classmates but the close proximity sped up the process) and Jason and Danny develop mutual crushes on each other.

For the event they do, like an Olympic games style format and have people sign up in teams for events a couple of weeks beforehand. Anyone in any sort of classical/mythology related course can join and they opened the event for public spectating. They have a few traditional events like a foot race, long jump and chariot race. But the also have some silly ones like Medusa's Snakes, where they shove their faces into bowls of whipped cream and fish out gummy worms, Pandora's Amphora, where they stick there hands into a box/jar of mystery contents (grapes, slime, a live animal like rats or kittens, a bunch of glitter, soda, etc.) and whoever keeps their hand in the longest wins, and Gladiator Fights, where they try to knock each other into a foam pit with those foam and rubber jousting sticks and the such.

Neither Danny, nor Jason want to participate for fear of their physical/supernatural abilities being discovered so the both get talked into doing the emceeing and commentary for the events. They make a really good duo, snarking and bantering with each other, playing off each other's energy and providing fun commentary to the events. Everyone, including the batfam who came to spectate, is a bit baffled by how well they are getting along bc last they checked these two were rivals of a sort, mildly annoying at best and actively antagonistic at worst. However, they really seem to be enjoying themselves.

The last event of the day is a trivia contest, which they both decide to take part in and let someone else take over the emceeing. The final winning trivia question is "what trope was falsely understood as a marriage proposal or declaration of love by misinformed media, that was actually closer to a ploy of seduction and indication of sexual desire according to Greek texts" and the both ring in at the same time to say "tossing an apple to someone" and an tie for the win. They both go up on stage to receive the prize (idk a gift card or smth) and shake hands before walking away in opposite directions.

Then suddenly Danny calls out to Jason just before he leaves the stage and chucks an apple he seemingly produced out of nowhere at him. The apple has a note with the time and date of a dinner reservation on it and when Jason looks back up at Danny he see the slightly flushed boy tentatively smiling at him.

" What do ya say Jase? Will you go out with me?"

And instead of replying Jason just straight up kisses him in front of everyone. Everyone else is gobsmacked by this whole turn of events except Tim who's cackling his head off, screaming "I FUCKING KNEW IT". When the two of them break apart they grin at each other widely and Jason drags Danny of the stage presumably to go make out somewhere.

[teojira]

Really enjoyed your headcanons on Caeser and Proximus, do you mind doing the same with Noa?? 😊🙏

[Noa and day to day life with him!] [Headcanons!]

Summary: Noa takes you back with him to his home, and the clan accepts you as one of them. Even if you're concerned otherwise.

Word count: 1k (Jesus christ)

Warnings: None that I can think of! Can be read as Platonic or Romantic! You and Noa are attached to one another. (Yes, this is me projecting.)

A/N: Noa is so near and dear to me, I literally did not mean for this to be so long, and I STILL cut myself off. This is 1k words worth of headcanons for him, and it is not enough. I'm Noa's #1 fan, I am sorry to all my friends and family who have to hear me talk about him constantly.. Ask me for Noa anything, and I will give you the world.

Do me a favor and strap the fuck in for this it's alot.

I am so glad someone asked about Noa bc I got ALOT to say.

Noa has had it with humans, Mae put him, his clan, and countless others at risk, he should not trust humans, really he shouldn't, but he can't help it. She also betrayed you in the process, and now you're alone.

You agreed to help him and Mae against Proximus, you're the only one who actively goes up against Proximus as well.

Swinging and trying your best to try and get Proximus off of Noa, yelling and crying while the other apes just stare in fear. (Later on they apologize, but you don't hold it against them.)

It's a huge risk to invite a human with them again, but then he remembers Rakas words, Caesars words, and decides he can't told another's decisions over you.

So when he gently grabs your hand in his, looking down at you with a strained smile, blood seeping from his lips, you follow, back to his clans land.

Now on to the good stuff, it's kinda awkward finding your place among the eagle clan, the elders are gone, his father Koro is gone, there really is no guidance as to where to place you.

You drift mostly, either helping Dar or helping with the young ones, teaching them how to read and write, helping fish, farm, the basic tasks.

Dar loves you by the way, doting on you and making sure no one messes with you in a harmful way. She teaches you their customs and traditions, all the while playfully teasing you about Noa. She's a mom, she knows.

You're happy with your work, happy with your place among the clan. It's genuinely shocking how much they were willing to forgive and to not hold any grudges against humans after one ruined everything.

It helps that Noa takes accountability for you, somehow so trusting that you will not cause harm. His faith in you speaks volumes and you remind him everyday that it won't go to waste.

All he does is send you a sweet smile and ruffles your hair.

You find yourself helping Noa alot with crafting new tools and contraptions, being a second pair of eyes that can catch onto things he can't.

"Very smart." "Thank yo-" "For an Echo." and he does that stupid cute little sniff afterwards and it makes it tremendously hard to hit him.

He's such a little shit I fucking hate him.

You're his shadow when his duties permit, he's taken on a higher role of the clan, sometimes going out for days at a time but you're always at the edge of the Village waiting for his return, anxiously working your bottom lip until you see him in view.

You're both extremely attached to one another, Soona and Anaya become attached to you too, dragging you along in everyone's free time to go climbing, to eat, to hunt, just about any group outing has you as their fourth member.

Noa was worried about them accepting you, but they love you just as much as he does.

It makes his heart swell when he sees you and Soona together, giggling about something surely only you both understand while Anaya groans and complains about being left out.

It's like you've always been meant to be with them, to round out their group.

Soona and Anaya will offer to be the one to carry you this time, they do want to, genuinely, but Noa won't let them 99.9% of the time, He's used to your weight, he trusts that he can keep you safe the best. (Says the ape that literally almost died multiple times doing stupid shit)

"Noa worries too much, they will be fine." "Anaya is clumsy. Can't trust you to carry yourself, much less echo."

He tries not to carry you everywhere, but it is so much more convenient than waiting for you, so he scoops you up often enough that the stares don't bother you anymore.

Remember how in the movie, all the apes sleep together communally? Well you're at first extremely nervous about that, not wanting to ask what exactly are your accommodations because surely they don't want you there with them.

Actually, Noa does, so jot that down.

When you shyly move away, he raises his palm up at you, nodding to the space besides him.

When you don't move, he gently tugs you down, laying on his back and shutting his eyes. The clan hasn't really fully rebuilt and started to gather things needed for shawls and coverings, so it's not strange to him that you cuddle up to him to steal his warmth, peeking an eye open to see your face squished into his side, knocked out.

He wraps an arm around you, incasing you in more warmth.

This is a nightly routine until you finally take it upon yourself to throw yourself on him, he chokes out a breath as you make yourself comfortable.

Soona and Anaya usually join in, he cannot fucking breathe but he's so happy that it outweighs it.

When Mae inevitably shows back up, she sees you out in the distance, you look so genuine happy, so at peace with where you are. You even have some eagle feathers in your hair, integrated into their life that it shocks her.

It's enough to make her put the gun away, grasping at Rakas necklace like a lifeline, sucking in a deep breath to stop her from crying.

Maybe apes and humans can live at peace with one another after all. She hopes you prove her wrong.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

[thewistlingbadger]

Jinx did not purposefully kill Silco, Jinx did not "choose Vi over Silco", Jinx did not kill Silco to protect Vi, and Jinx did not kill Silco out of love for Vi.

Jinx only kills Silco out of instinct. This is demonstrated time and time again with the crows. Jinx is heavily associated with crows in arcane. Yes they're a symbol for death and the macabre but they also serve a narrative and character purpose.

Crows show up whenever Jinx is about to fly off the handle. They show up when she tries to beat Vi's score, they show up when the firelights interrupt her reunion, and they show up on the night she kills Silco. Crows are used to show us when something really fucking bad is about to happen to Jinx.

They also show us something very INTEGRAL to her character: she is willing to kill anything that so much as moves, even when she knows it's not a threat. Jinx is initially startled by a crow when she goes to the place she and her family used to hang out. She pulls out her gun, realizes it's just a bird (not a threat), and shoots it anyway. This is REALLY important and is hinting at the finale.

Jinx is someone who lives in a very dangerous and hostile environment. She's been exposed to violence all her life, and there's many things to be afraid (many things she IS afraid of) in Zaun. It's instinct to protect herself because everyone hates her and is out to get her.

In the finale, Jinx PURPOSELY and INTENTIONALLY puts her ONLY WEAPON IN FRONT OF SILCO when threatened by Caitlyn. Why? Because she knows Silco will protect her. She knows that if shit hits the fan, if push comes to shove, if she is somehow put in a position where she cannot defend herself, Silco will defend her. Always. If she was afraid of Silco or what he might do or if she was afraid for Vi's safety, she would have NOT put the gun in his reach. She KNOWS he's anti-vi, she KNOWS he doesn't like her, he is literally arguing against her in this scene. She also knows that Silco has no limits, no line unwilling to cross. Silco would EASILY and perhaps happily kill Vi if given the chance. But she puts the gun in front of him because she trusts him and knows he'd do anything for her.

And ultimately, he DOES die defending her. Vi trying to call members of the past actively and explicitly puts Jinx in a place of pain and hurt. She is actively damaging her sister and making her the most unstable we've ever seen this. VI doesn't know she's doing this because vi lives in the past and the past has always been her refuge. But the past has always been jinx's nightmare and personal hell. Silco knows this because HE was there. He was there for every meltdown and mental breakdown, he knows her and knows what she's like, which is WHY he does everything in his power to get her to stop. The amount of violence and aggression he enters just to get Vi to stop is actually insane. We have NEVER seen him act this way. He's yelling at the top of his lungs and THRASHING IN HIS CHAIR to get her to stop, because he knows A. This is hurting Jinx and B. No good will come from this. He tells her to shut up, physically tries to get her to stop, and then he notices the gun (notice how is initial reaction wasn't to just kill her? Notice how he tried other methods before physical and actual violence?). He grabs the gun, point the gun at Vi, and press the trigger. But the bullets don't come out, the safety pin activates.

Jinx hears the pin. This is the only thing that manages to pull her out of her meltdown: the threat of violence. She's not in a place to process or analyze the situation. Upon instinct, she opens fire on everyone within the room, firing at random. Her only intention to put down the threat of violence. Both Vi and Silco's chair have bullet holes, showing that this is the case.

It takes her a while to calm down but once she does, she realizes what she's actually done. She realizes the threat was no threat at all.

[totaly-obsessed]

Watch it!

Kyra Cooney-Cross x reader request

-> Kyra can only keep her relationship a secret for so long...

-> A little shorter

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

When Kyra joined you at Arsenal both of you could not have been happier, but while you were already an established part of the team and already made a name for yourself in the WSL after joining Arsenal after two seasons at Chelsea, Kyra was new in the league.

So in a joint decision, you decided to keep your relationship private for now. Not a secret, but private. But it was so funny seeing the girls trying to find out who your girlfriend was, and trying to set Kyra up on a date.

As time went on Kyra’s title of ‘annoying little sister’ was slowly set in stone and it did not make her happy. Why couldn’t she just be Kyra – a good, young footballer who was new to the team?

So then she started to actively hide your relationship – even going as far as to ignore you in training, only talking again when she came home to your shared apartment and it was starting to take a toll on you.

But either Kyra didn’t see it or she just didn’t care – even after you tried to talk about it with her she brushed you off, stating that she was meeting up with Charlie, your joined friend, who has just joined you in London.

Conversations got rarer and frosty dinners more often. You hated this. She had to dislike it too, right? No one would like to sit in a quiet, stuffy, tense room. Not even with their girlfriend.

Before the much dreaded Manchester City game you were faced with a screaming Kyra – who had enough of your complaints, so it was safe to say, that the atmosphere was tense once your girlfriend walked in with Katie and Caitlin.

The couple had picked the brunette up at your home after she had refused to enter your cars and decided to make a scene.

Everybody noticed the difference – Steph and Caitlin had already been confused, the two of you had been such good friends in Australia, and the World Cup camp was filled with giggles as you pranked one Matilda after the other. Even Mini didn’t know what happened and Kyra tended to tell her everything.

The match was brutal and your girlfriend couldn’t help but wince every time you went down after a tackle from the opponent. And while you got up every time, she couldn’t bear to watch, trying to keep herself busy somehow.

It was a 0 – 0 deadlock in the 70th minute when Kyra had been subbed on for Kim, who was still struggling a little after her injury. And just a couple of minutes later her worst nightmare came true.

You went in for a header against Alex Greenwood, but the ball rebounded off of someone’s head – who wasn’t important to the young Australian, as she watched her girlfriend immediately crash to the ground after colliding.

Alex stayed down as well.

Fuck there was a lot of blood.

And before she could even think about it Kyra started to sprint across the pitch, and Steph could have sworn she had never seen her young friend that fast.

“Babe? Are you okay?”

You weren’t – evident by the lack of an answer. She quickly noticed your unconscious state and immediately fell to her knees next to you. Shaky hands pulled down your shirt, trying to keep you safe from the stares of the viewers.

“You’re gonna be okay my love – I promise.”

While your teammates noticed the suddenly very affectionate nicknames, there were more pressing matters at hand, you were still bleeding from your forehead.

The medics took a look at you and quickly decided that getting you on a stretcher and off the field was their best option.

Getting you on that dreaded, bright orange thing was a slow process and the paramedics were as careful as they could but a quiet, painful moan left your lips as your eyes cracked open.

You could hear Kyra crying somewhere in the area around your head, while you could see the other girls by your feet, as you were carried away, every step shaking your whole body, releasing a new wave of pain originating from your head.

But it was going fine, until one of the people that were carrying the stretcher slipped, letting go briefly of his corner, sending you into a tilted position. The pain-filled cry could be heard in the deadly silent stands.

“Watch it you fuck – that’s my girlfriend!”

Heads snapped to Kyra, who didn’t even look away from the guy who let go of you.

“Out of my way.” And just like that your girlfriend took over and Jonas had to look for another person to sub in.

“Don’t think you’ll get away with this young lady!” But Steph’s shout was completely ignored as you left behind a stunned Arsenal team who had just figured out, that you and Kyra did in fact not hate each other.

[m0nsterqzzz]

Capture the Flag

pairing: clarisse la rue x child of apollo!reader

summary: you hate capture the flag, and clarisse hates people hurting you. that's that.

warnings: kidnapping? *done by a bunch of demigod teenagers for the simple outcome of winning a game* mentions of murder because what is a clarisse fic without it? swearing? kinda oc clarisse just because I can't write anything else without turning it into enemies to lovers

a/n: she is my love. clarisse defender for life.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Clarisse La Rue.

The name sparks fear in many people at Camp Half Blood. Kids cower when she’s near, or run away when she walks towards them. It makes her happy, having people fear her. She thrives off of it, being a daughter of Ares; the god of war.

But too you? The name brings warmth, comfort, and love. It’s very rare her wrath has ever been directed towards you, and the few times it has been was when she didn’t know you. When you were just another camper to her.

It only took a few days at camp for you to be claimed by your father, Apollo. 

It made sense really, your bubbly and energetic personality was so similar to your fathers and his demi god childrens. You moved into cabin seven with your small backpack of beloved items from your past, picking the bed in the corner farthest away from the few other children of Apollo and spending most of your time in that spot if you weren't at arts and crafts or archery. Not many people cared about you at first, not that you mind while you were trying to process all that happened for you to finally get to this wilderness home. Then you tried to make some friends, which ended with you mostly spending your days with your siblings or the children of Hermes and the campers who lived in that cabin without being claimed.

Then, you met your girlfriend. The love of your life. You're everything. Clarisse.

She had protected you during a game of capture the flag, not realizing that your “attacker” was one of your best friends who simply held his sword up to you in a playful way. You teased her for weeks after that, giving her the title, “my protector”. Although the teasing eventually stopped, the nickname never did.

You’re her sunshine. That’s clear to everyone in camp, but nobody really talks about it for fear of being hurt by her spear.

Capture the flag is one of her favorite days out of the week. Other than every Tuesday when Chiron lets you eat dinner at her table- an agreement that came after a very long week of begging of course. That was his compromise to your ask of being able to spend every night at that table, and Clarisse wasn’t going to push it despite liking the first idea more. 

It became a lot harder to win said game when she started dating you, team red losing one of their best fighters when she would leave her post by the flag to roam the forest and make sure you are okay. It just makes you laugh when she stops kissing you up against a tree to suddenly run back to her post when she remembers the main task at hand, but her siblings and team would definitely disagree that it's funny.

Today's no different, and after threatening her teammate with her spear, she leaves her post to find you with the peace of mind that they’ll protect the flag and won’t tell on her to the other players on team red.

You on the other hand, you have your headphones in, music blasting in them as you dance through the forest and around the trees. Capture the flag has never really been as important to you as your teammates on the blue team, and both Annabeth and Luke eventually learned to give you a simple task and let you do your own thing. 

The nymph's join along in your activities every once in a while, but for the most part they just stay in their tree form as you dance past them.

You’re in your own world with your favorite song playing on your wired headphones that stay connected to the ipod in your hand that your girlfriend gifted to you after she came home from a quest a few months ago. It’s only when someone hits your helmet-covered head with the butt of their sword so hard you pass out that you realize you wandered into the red team's territory.

Waking up, the first thing you notice is the harsh light of the sun glaring down at you. Then it’s the rough feeling of wood on your back and the tight pull of rope on your stomach when you try and fail to stand up from your sitting poston. Your stomach churns as you realize what kind of situation you're in; no help, in a vulnerable position, and no weapon. Lastly, you groan when you realize that your headphones have been taken out of your ears and are laying in a tangled pile a few feet away along with your ipod.

After a few seconds, your vision clears up and the two blobs of color that you saw in front of you turn out to be two people. They’re clearing down at you from their standing positions, one with a sword out and the other holding a dagger.

“Good morning sunshine.” You cringe at the nickname that comes from one of the boys you now recognize from the Aphrodite cabin. It’s the one that your girlfriend uses for you. 

Children of Aphrodite may be well known for her being the goddess of love, and all things pink and pretty, but sometimes people forget she is also a goddess of war. Her demigod children are sweet and nice, but it’s no big surprise why Clarisse likes having them on her team when you see their fighting abilities when they actually try.

“What do you want with me?” You question harshly, trying but eventually giving up on trying to force the ropes to untie by moving your body around. You’re tied to a thin tree, thin enough for your arms to reach behind you and wrap around it- it's kind of like your giving the tree a backwards hug with your hands tied together around it- but not thin enough to break when you push you back up against it to test the theory on if you can snap it. 

They look at eachother and chuckle, putting their weapons away when they realize you can’t get out of your ties. One you recognize as Oliver steps closer to you as he says, “Annabeth and Luke care about you so much, the moment they realize that you’re missing, they’ll forget all about the flag and Clarisse can go get it.”

You stare at them blankly for a few seconds before you burst out laughing. They glance at each other before narrowing their eyes at you.

“What are you laughing at sunshine?” You finish laughing when the ropes pull on your stomach way too tightly with the way your body shakes with the laughter. “You ummm…” You start, taking a deep breath when you find yourself beginning to giggle again. “You thought the most amazing plan…was to lead my overprotective friends and girlfriend…the girl who carries a spear with her everywhere she goes and hurts anyone who looks at her wrong mind you…to the spot where she’ll find her partner tied up to a tree in a clearing where no one is around to stop her from killing you guys?”

They stare at you with a sudden look of fear in their eyes before they walk a few yards away to begin whispering to each other, the confidence from earlier gone and rethinking their plan after you brought the obvious ending to your attention.

“Hey guys?!” You shout out, smiling when they turn around for a second to face you. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell Clarisse not to kill you! She usually listens to me because the last time she killed someone, I didn’t cuddle her for a week!” Their eyes widen at your casualness, as if her killing someone is completely normal in your world before turning back around so you can’t see them panicking. It doesn’t matter though, the way they move their hands erratically and have to take deep breaths from raising their voices in fear is enough knowledge.

They come back a few minutes later, the fear still there as they stand in front of you. You don’t ask what plan they’ve come up with now, and they don’t tell you.

You guys sit in silence for a second before you glance at your earbuds and ask, “Do you guys like jazz tunes?” The boys stare at you with a confused expression.

“Um..…no. Why? Is that what you were listening to?”

“No. It’s just a conversation starter. The quiet was getting kinda awkward.”

The silence is back again, before you begin to quietly hum the tune of the song you were listening to before they interrupted your state of happiness. “So…..did you guys see my amazing dancing?”

Liam chuckles, eyes not meeting yours as he scans the forest around you guys and mumbles, “It wasn’t that good.” Oliver lets out a small hum of agreement. 

You scoff, eyes falling to your legs as you whisper under your breath, “Well damn. I’m definitely letting my girl kill you now.”

Suddenly, a few yards away, there is a loud scream that could make someone's ear eardrums bleed. It isn’t one of fear or sadness, but of anger. The boy’s eyes widen and they begin to spin in circles to try and keep track of the attacker as they pull out their weapons. You just smile.

The sound of someone running is what finally snaps them out of their panic enough to try running away, but she’s already there using the end of her spear to hit one's back so hard he falls forward and pulls the other one of one backwards and throws him on the ground by his armor. 

The first boy she pushes tries to get up and scurry away, but she simply places her foot on his back and presses so down with her boot with enough pressure he looks ready to cry. He really should be wearing armor. 

“Clar! Clar, it’s fine! I’m fine!” You shout when the fear starts to set in that she might actually hurt them, and she doesn’t even seem like she’s listening as she twists her spear in a circle and looks towards the other boy with a grin on her face that you know all too well. She’s going to kill them.

You begin to try and pry your hands out of the rope so hard it begins to shred your skin like paper in hopes of stopping her from doing something she’ll get in so much trouble for, and it’s only when you let out a small whimper of pain does Clarisse stop her actions. The grin falls from her face, and her foot releases the boy as she hurries over to you.

Both boys get up off the dirt, stumbling over their own feet as they begin to run back into the forest to hide from Clarisse. “You touch them again and I’ll kill you in ways even my father couldn’t imagine!” She screams over her shoulder in a terrifying voice, and the way she then turns to you with a sweet smile would be weird to anyone else. It only comforts you.

“I’m so sorry sunshine. I’m so sorry I let them hurt you.” She whispers as she uses the sharpest part of her spear to cut the ropes off. You sigh in relief, bringing them to your lap so you can gently caress them. There are red marks surrounding them, some of which you can already tell are going to bruise and one with a small cut on it from the rope and bark on the tree rubbing on your skin.

Your girlfriend looks guilty, so when she begins to spill even more apologizes you shut her up with a gentle kiss. “It’s okay Clar. I’m okay. It’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.” She shakes her head no and you watch with a small smile as she uses the most gentle touch you’ve ever felt to pick up your wrists and assess the injury.

“Really. I’m fine. It’s just some rope burn.” She hums in understanding, bringing them up to her lips one by one to place a feather light kiss on the red spots. “Better?” The curly haired girl asks with a small smile. 

“Much.” She nods, letting out one more apology before she picks you up bridal style and begins to walk back in the direction of camp. It’s only when you make it to the edge of the clearing and the cabins, mess hall, and big house come into view do you realize she’s not taking you back to your team's territory. 

When you go to ask where she’s taking you, but she just shh’s you and takes the trail to the infirmary. In the distance, the conch shell sounds, signaling the end of the game. It’s followed by the familiar cheers of your team, making you feel bad.

“I’m really sorry Clar. I could have walked myself. I’m so sorry” She just shakes her head, walking into the small building that only has about three Apollo children in it, the kids who don’t like to play capture the flag and volunteer to stay in the infirmary in case someone needs medical help. You know them, sending them all bright smiles and they do the same.

She sets you down on a gurney, a quick glare to the boy standing awkwardly a few feet away with a clipboard is all he needs to run over and begin gently cradling your arms to wrap your wrist’s. His name is Jamie, and he’s the quietest out of all of your siblings. Even with his silence, you know he’s an absolute sweetheart after nights spent painting with him or enjoy a walk in the sun together.

“Just take off the bandages to ice them every once and a while, and you should feel fine in a few days.” He mumbles before scurrying off to do something else, but in reality you know he’s just trying to get away from the girl who now stands at the edge of your bed like a guard. My protector.

You stand up, slowly walking towards her and wrapping your arms around the back of her neck. “You know, your siblings are beginning to despise me for being the reason you guys are losing.”

She shrugs, a small smile making its way onto her face. “Let them. They ever talk shit, you come to me. I’ll deal with it. Until then, they can despise you in silence. I’m just happy you’re okay sunshine.”

“Thanks to you. My protector.” With that she chuckles, leaning down to kiss you as your arms tighten around her.

“But I’m definitely getting Chiron to change the Apollo cabin to our team.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

[lilac-5ky]

The Assistant (officeAU!Geto x Fem!Reader x officeAU!Gojo)

based on this request, tumblr hates me.

Plot: Senior Partner at the prestigious Gojo Group's legal department, Geto Suguru never expected to fall for his newly-hired personal assistant. But when his lifelong best friend and boss takes an interest in you, Suguru fins his own feelings rapidly escalating into an uncontrollable obsession.

Tags: Office!AU, Geto POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Secretary!Reader, Lawyer!Geto, CEO!Gojo, Office Sex, Oral Sex (m.receiving), Doggy Style, Degradation, Praise, Pining, Jealousy, Obsession, Sexual Coercion, Abuse of Authority, don't get your hopes up; this isn't a threesome, MDNI obviously.

A/N: Number one bestie, you still owe me Gojo smut. But here, 14k words to quench your thirst for Suguwu.

Masterlist | AO3 | Requests

“How about this one? She’s pretty hot, don’t you think, Suguru?” Satoru waves yet another paper in Suguru’s face, his excitement wearing off the moment he catches his best friend pinching his nose bridge between his fingers.

“Satoru, we are picking associate candidates, not swimming-suit contest winners.” Suguru chides in a calm tone, crossing out the woman’s name from his list with a red line that’s identical to the line above and the ones that rank above it too.

This is the 78th candidate whose CV is rejected by the two men, their task of finding Suguru the perfect assistant turning rather daunting after five emptied cups of instant coffee.

Suguru insisted he could’ve done it alone—similar to how he’d insisted he could’ve kept handling his own affairs by himself and argued against a congratulatory party in honor of his promotion. But certain wishes outweigh others, and in the legal department of Gojo Enterprises, Satoru’s word is as good as the law—one of the many perks that come with being the president’s only son.

“What’s wrong with swimming suit contests?” The white-haired man sulks, long limbs hanging gracelessly from over his chair’s backrest. He zooms in on the woman’s picture one final time before crumpling the paper into a ball that’s flung straight into the garbage bin by the door. "Hey, that was a three-pointer!"

Sigh.

Even though the two of them have been friends since Suguru can remember himself, sometimes it feels as if only one of them outgrew their fourth-grade selves. It’s nothing new for Satoru to confuse play time with work time, yet as the man who will come to inherit the entire Gojo empire, he should at least focus on how to better the company, not tear it apart.

“Nothing wrong with swimming suits or gravure models, but we should choose someone based on their skills. Remember what your father always says: a business is only as successful as—”

“‘Its team is,’ yeahyeahyeah , spare me the preach. My ears are tired of that old man’s nagging.” Satoru spins around in his chair, the rollers squeaking under his weight. “Just because someone’s pretty doesn’t mean they can’t be competent. Take me for example.” His thumb and forefinger shape an angle below his chin.

A quiet chuckle evades Suguru as he sorts the files before him and slides the next batch across Satoru’s side of the table. “Fine, if we don’t find someone who checks both criteria, then you can be my assistant.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Satoru rips another instant coffee packet open. “My hands are full already.” Throwing his head back, he empties the powder into his mouth and washes it around until the sugary substance dissolves.

“I can see that,” Suguru murmurs, masking his distaste by returning to work.

The stacks of paper soon decline, with Satoru needing a cursory look to dismiss the candidates and Suguru meticulously processing their accomplishments down to their high school extracurricular activities. Work at the firm is hard enough as is. He’s seen far too many young, ambitious interns crack under pressure and pop pills into their mouths like candy just so they can keep up.

Narrowing down his options, Suguru gets a decent idea of what he’s looking for: adaptability, flexibility, and drive. Those traits are common to all three finalists, with two of them having touched a variety of fields and the other having a background in volunteer work.

He’s all but decided on candidate number 99 when a paper plane crashes into the side of his head.

“Oops!” Satoru’s shoulders scrunch up coyly, though both he and his partner know it was very much intentional.

Suguru catches the plane, appreciating the craftsmanship behind the carefully folded wings, before he sets it on the table.

“Satoru.” His voice gains a slight edge after he spots candidate 42’s face decorating the underside of the aircraft, a comically large mustache drawn on top. “Was anyone else to your liking, or did the rest become fodder for your fleet?”

He watches his friend fish a paper crane out of his jacket, clearly pleased with himself, and he has every right to be, considering the paper is seamlessly trimmed without any scissors. Cute. Suguru smiles, withholding his praise lest it become another point of distraction.

Rolling his chair away, Satoru jumps up and slams the desk with enough force to break it. “Number 98!” He declares.

“98?” Suguru asks, and in seconds, Satoru is found hovering above his shoulder, one hand drumming against the leather chair and the other covering the (presumed) woman’s picture.

“Good grades, prestigious papers, and all that education shit you’re so fond of.” His forefinger trails between the lines. “University of Tokyo, Department of—blah blah , Essex something something, worked three years as a paralegal for the Kamos. Whole damn package, and the best thing?” He draws his palm away, slowly enough to build anticipation. “She’s drop-dead gorgeous.”

“Satoru, I told you—”

Whatever was supposed to complete that sentence withers at the tip of Suguru’s tongue, amber irises blown as they take in every detail of your face, animating your features as if you’re truly there with them, and for a moment, he tricks himself into thinking you are.

He sees your lips—those pretty lips he swears taste like honey without kissing them—drawing away from your teeth, the mellifluous sound of your laughter coating the rumble of prints being made somewhere in the background. He knows that a picture can’t possibly hold such power, and yet the subtle floral notes in your perfume reach him, prevailing so easily over the stench of ink and coffee and enchanting him into agreeing with his friend.

She is gorgeous. Perhaps the most gorgeous woman he’s laid eyes on.

You are.

“Come on, Suguru. This one’s super cute!” Satoru argues in your favor, his jaw piercing his friend’s shoulder. “Seriously, if you’re not hiring her, then I am. I can always lay off one of my—”

“Looks like you are off the hook, Satoru. This one will do.”

“And this is the kitchen. I recommend making the most of our espresso maker or heading to the cafeteria on the first floor—unless you don’t mind your coffee tasting like watered-down sugar.” Suguru nods toward the pyramid of instant coffee boxes stacked in the corner, conscious of the doe eyes that track his every gesture.

The picture barely did you any justice. You are so much prettier in person with your well-fitting two-piece suit and the pocket notebook you carry, penning down everything he says, down to the locations of kitchenware and the names of employees you meet along the way. He can’t tell whether you’re not confident enough in your ability to memorize things or simply overzealous. No matter the case, he finds your little habit endearing, but then again, the opinion of a man who endeared himself to you ahead of your acquaintance is not to be taken at face value.

“What’s the matter?” He cocks his head to the side, gaze drawn to the pen stilled in your grasp. “Too much info?”

“More like too many handles and blinking lights. One wrong button, and the whole building detonates.” You glance at him over the pages, your tone delineating a smile he cannot see.

He returns it, piecing the bang that typically never bothers him behind his ear. “Sato—I mean, Senior Partner Gojo received this as a gift from Zen’in Naobito when we moved to this building.”

“Is that so? I thought Zen’in Group was notoriously at odds with Gojo Group.”

“Oh, they are. But it’s common business tactics to trade one overpriced gift for another to see who breaks bank first.” Suguru hums, grabbing a clean mug from the rack and initiating the twelve-step process required to brew a single cup of coffee. “If I remember correctly, our side sent them a private sushi chef. His work hours were paid; the fish, not so much. Sugar?” He smirks, stirring the amount you call in your coffee.

“What happened after? Off the record.” You tap your notebook shut, and the smile he thought he heard is there, seen on your lips and felt in his heart, warmer than the beverage his hand offers.

“They kept him around for about a month before politely declining our generosity. I guess there’s a limit to how much bluefin tuna the rich can stomach.” His narrowed eyes crinkle fondly while he watches you blow the steam from your face and take your first sip. “Hope it’s to your liking.”

“The coffee or the story?”

“Both. But mostly the coffee.”

“It’s really good.” You nod appreciatively. “Thank you!”

“Don’t mention it.” Suguru disposes of the used coffee beans, failing to, however, rid himself of the soft smile perching on his lips. “It’ll take a while to get used to it, so feel free to come to me whenever you need more coffee. Or another story.”

“I could never disturb you for something like that.” You shake your head along with your hands. “What kind of assistant asks her boss to make her coffee?”

The word “boss” carries a negative connotation coming from your lips; the few inches that keep you apart rapidly expand into miles, and he hates that. It’s a gap he doesn’t want to see widened any further.

“How about you think of us as partners, then?” Suguru takes a leap while the distance’s short. “None of us gets paid to make coffee either way.”

You seem hesitant to agree, holding the weight of his stare until your determination crumbles. “Fine. But only till I get the hang of it. Then you’ll be greeted with a cup of freshly brewed espresso on your desk every morning.”

“That’s very thoughtful, but I’d rather be served tea instead. Red with one sugar?”

Overzealous , he decides as you hurriedly flip through the pages to scribble his order.

He wonders what your handwriting is like. Whether it’s scrawled and stumpy or eloquent and delicate, which isn’t the most fascinating thing to wonder about a person, but he can’t help himself from trying to pierce through the hardcover for a glimpse at your thoughts, unwittingly attracting your attention.

You share a look that flourishes over a second and withers within an eternity, its remains scattering into an airy chuckle as the machine cuts in with a sudden choo .

“I’m s-sorry!” You bow your head, bottom lip sticking out while you fail to suppress your amusement. “I didn’t expect it to sound like this. It’s just like—”

“Mhm, it does resemble the bullet train to Sendai a bit, doesn’t it?”

Suguru doesn’t necessarily think of himself as a funny man. But witnessing the little dance your fingers perform as you struggle to keep the cup steady, he might as well be the funniest man in the whole wide world.

“Shall we get going?” He prompts. “I still haven’t shown you to your office.”

“Please lead the way. Partner.” You add, unaware that the man who cruises you by almost trips over his feet. In his mind, at least.

Walking among the cubicles where various paralegals have their noses buried within tower-height stacks of memoranda, Suguru goes over your shared schedule and what is expected of you in the upcoming days, silently praying that you don’t question his insistence to wipe his sweaty palms against his slacks. He hasn’t been this stressed since he and Satoru were studying for the bar exam, and even then, it wasn’t him he was stressing about.

He recites, and you diligently take notes, up until the compact desks lessen and you find yourselves standing in front of an open space with its own reception. The senior partners’ offices—or, in other words, your boss’ and his boss’ offices.

“Hey, Shoko. Got anything for me?” Suguru asks the disinterested brunette seated at the front desk.

The woman’s eyes dart between the two of you. She acknowledges your presence with a curt bow, hardly bothering to put out her cigarette in the tray behind her. “Just this.” She pulls a yellow folder from one of the drawers and hands it to him, smoke wafting when she speaks. “It’s a letter of intent; Nanami brought it himself. Says it’s important.

“How much longer do I have to keep this up?” Shoko asks, a red imprint from where her wrist was previously propping her cheek against her elbow.

Suguru takes out the papers, skimming through the lines before stuffing them back inside and giving her a tiny smile.

“Thank you for your service, Shoko. You are fired.”

“Yay!” The woman excites in the same deadpan tone, grabbing her bag and almost knocking you down with how quick she is to flee the company premises.

“Is she—”

“Don’t worry about her.” Suguru’s attention returns to you. “She’s just a friend filling in for us.”

The way he uses the term friend is deliberate. Normally, he wouldn’t care what people make of his and Satoru’s relationship with the third member of their group, but he doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea.

Tucking the folder under his armpit, Suguru proceeds to lead you to your office, situated in the same open space although much closer to the wooden door that spells his full name and title in capital gold lettering—another of Satoru’s fanciful insistences.

Your desk is half as wide as the reception’s, yet twice as spacious as the cubicle ones. The company’s logo bounces across an idle computer screen, dust particles dancing amidst the glaring light of high noon. There is a telephone and some stationery that’s either sorted in a silver pencil holder or frames the hefty planner at the center, though it’s the sticky notes dangling from its pages that end up piquing your interest.

Suguru suffered through the teasing of a lifetime for spending his entire weekend summarizing case files just so your first days wouldn’t be hectic.

(“Good for you, Suguru.” Satoru snickered from his sumptuous recliner, a tennis ball bouncing from the wall back to his hand. “Getting your first crush at the age of 28. What’s next? Drawing your initials in little hearts for her to see how well your names fit together?”

“Shut up." Suguru clicked his pen against his head, stretching his feet below the workbench-turned kotatsu. "Some people happen to function better in organized environments.”

“Mhm , all I’m hearing is Suguru and Y/N sitting on a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” Satoru sang at an annoyingly gleeful pitch.)

“This,” you reel him back to the present. “You did this?”

Your eyes gleam like twin stars in their sockets. Clear, brilliant, and bright, but most importantly, boring into his.

Good for you, Suguru. Getting your first crush at the age of 28.

Suguru nearly waves his hand over his face to disperse his friend’s voice. It’s not a crush. He doesn’t think it is. Admitting to what is beautiful and reacting to it is a natural human response that has nothing to do with feelings of any kind. This is ephemeral.

“Y-yes.” A dry cough clears the hoarseness in his throat. “Thought it’d make your life easier if you knew where to focus instead of running around like a headless chicken.” He shifts through the pages in your hands. “Naturally, the indicators attached to closer dates are more urgent than the ones pushed further back, though they’re also sorted by color. Green means you can do it at your leisure, while bright pink means—”

“Danger, death, don’t skip?” You smile, and he nods eagerly. A bit too eagerly. Just like a schoolboy who was praised for giving the right answer, even though you were the one who answered correctly.

Maybe kissing on a tree wouldn’t be so bad.

“Thank you for doing this. And for hiring me.” You suddenly grow timid, bottom lip trapped in a shy smile as you extend your hand to him. “Working for this company is a great opportunity on its own, but working under—with ,” you correct yourself, “someone who values their juniors and goes the extra mile for them is like hitting the lottery.” A chuckle slips. “Apologies, the different colored sticky notes got to me.”

Soft. So damn soft. Your hand is so fucking soft, enveloping his own, that he curses himself for not coming up with the idea of a handshake when he first welcomed you at the lobby. It is a problem because he doesn’t want to let go, and when he does, he does so begrudgingly, his rougher finger pads dragging over your smooth skin and lingering above your polished fingernails with such delicacy as if they were freshly bloomed rosebuds.

“There are more in the drawer.” He nods toward the first drawer, a smirk coming as an afterthought. “Paper clips too.”

“Don’t tell me there’s a stapler in there too!” You gasp dramatically.

“Guess you’re gonna have to see for yourself.” His head droops to the side, and he smiles.

Your head droops to the side, and you smile back. You. Smile. Back.

The notion settles in his heart before registering in his brain, nestling where nothing can pry it off and inking itself as an indelible memory that’s bound to haunt him throughout the review of the Tengen shares redistribution, on which he better get started.

“Well, then. I’ll leave you to it.”

He manages about three steps away when your voice has him stopping in his tracks.

“Mr. Geto, you shouldn’t have!”

There are quite a few things he shouldn’t have done. For starters, waking up two hours ahead of his alarm, mixing the salt with the sugar in his morning tea (though something tells him that was the work of someone else), wearing his watch on the wrong wrist, and letting himself be smitten with his brand new assistant, whom he’s barely known for half a day. But you don’t know about any of those things. At least he hopes you don’t.

So, which one is it?

He turns around slowly, jaw almost dropping at the flower field spanning between your arms, roses redder than the blood boiling in his veins and peonies pinker than the tinge rising high on your cheeks—an arrangement bound with ivory wrapping paper.

“How do you like your welcoming gift?” The harbinger of disaster, conveniently known as his best friend, boss, and apparent competitor, makes his entrance.

“You are—”

“Gojo Satoru—local entrepreneur of the year, number one in Forbes’ 30 under 30, featured on the cover of Times magazine, most eligible bachelor in the world after his highness, the Archduke of Austria, and ringleader of this establishment—in the flesh!” He introduces himself like a certain character from Game of Thrones would, taking an excessively dramatic bow and rushing to your side with a wolfish smile that sharpens his otherwise gentle features.

“And you must be Y/N, right?” Without hesitation, Satoru hops into first name basis, cerulean eyes casting an indiscreet look over his sunglasses as he bends forward, hands kept on his knees. “My, you are even more beautiful in person! The picture did you no justice at all!”

And just like that, every single word that’d steadily been brewing in Suguru’s mind is taken away from him, Satoru praising you with the same ease and unparalleled confidence he bought the extravagant bouquet in your embrace, one that befits a lifelong lover more than a newly acquainted colleague.

“Mr. Gojo, I—I don’t know what to say.” Your eyes remain glued to the flowers, tense shoulders slightly squirming.

“Hmm, how about you start with dropping the honorifics? I hate having barriers between me and my employees.” He didn’t seem to hate barriers when he made Ijichi address him as Grand Emperor Gojo for a month straight as punishment. “We are all the same age here. Call me Gojo unless,” he smirks playfully, tilting his head to where you can no longer escape him, “you feel bold enough to call me Satoru.”

“Satoru.” The monotone intonation of his name carries a warning the white-haired man heeds, sparing you in favor of using his friend’s shoulder as an armrest.

“Suguru! Are you done with showing our”—our?—“lovely new assistant around?”

“What’s with the flowers?”

“The flowers?” Satoru chuckles boisterously. “What are you talking about? That’s how I welcome every new member of our team!”

“I don’t remember receiving any flowers when I signed my contract.” A mumble is met with a light elbow to his neck.

“You get paid enough to afford your own.” Satoru huffs, switching back to his amicable persona in the blink of an eye—your watchful eye that’s been studying them without daring to interfere. Another chuckle, accompanied by a poke to Suguru's cheek. “Tulips or dahlias? Name it, and I’ll turn your office into a greenhouse.”

“Please, don’t.”

“Are the two of you close?” Your voice forces the two men to break from each other, a furtive glance shared among them.

“Suuuuper close!” Satoru squeezes his friend’s shoulders into another unwanted embrace. “Been best friends since—third grade, was it? Hah, remember the time you called principal Yaga mom during morning assembly, and he started growing out his beard ‘cause he thought he wasn’t manly enough? Hilarious.”

Anger seethes in Suguru’s guts like a shaken can of soda about to combust, fizzling out before it can reach its boiling point. “Satoru.” He grits his teeth. “Weren’t you supposed to be at the shareholder meeting?”

“The shareholder—” He repeats, almost surprised, laughing awkwardly to himself. “Oh, turns out I wasn’t needed much. Left Ijichi in charge; he should be fine. Probably .”

A caricature of Ijichi suffering a mental breakdown while trying to placate those senile, cymbal-hitting monkeys plays in both their heads, barring yours.

“Ijichi is President Gojo’s personal assistant.” Suguru explains, pinching Satoru’s sleeve away from his body—except he doesn’t budge. “He’s been working under Satoru for the past four months as his secretary, reporting directly to his father since his only son wasn’t so good at budget handling and had his allowance cut. Isn’t that right, Satoru?”

“Let’s not talk about such tedious subjects in front of Y/N.” The man pulls away at once, running a hand through messy strands of white.

“I actually don’t mind—”

“Measuring up to all your quirks and abiding by your crazy filing system should bore her enough on its own.” He cuts you off, speaking behind his palm as if his words are meant solely for you. “Has Suguru shown you his little planner? Took him two all-nighters to put it together, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

He rests assured in his victory, not counting on you being the one who knocks him down a peg.

“Mhm, he already did, and I already thanked him. I’m a firm believer that a clear desk means a clear mind, and a clear mind means efficiency.” The flowers are at last unloaded upon your desk, their lengthy stems covering about two-thirds of the furniture. “Cluttering your workspace with a bunch of unnecessary items will only stagger your progress and make you fall behind. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Gojo?”

It’s rare to catch Satoru at a loss for words, yet there he stands, completely still and utterly speechless at your mercy, his expression akin to that of a wrongfully sprayed kitten.

The two of you turn to Suguru, seeking some sort of recognition that would settle the score. Any other person in his shoes would side with the authority in the room, but your referee decides to sit this one out.

He knows what Satoru is thinking. Substance is dull without style, and tri-colored dango tastes best in spring. He never had to choose one over the other, but giving you a piece of his mind would make him look indecisive—or worse, shallow—and he doesn’t want that. He wants to look good in front of you, or else he wouldn’t have worn his most expensive suit and bailed out of the most important meeting of the month.

He dug his own grave, and unexpectedly, the helping hand that pulls him out belongs to the one who first cast dirt upon his casket.

“Thank you for the flowers, Mr. Gojo. They might not have a place on my desk, but they’ll sure make a lovely centerpiece for my table at home. Peonies, right?” Your smile is effortlessly disarming. “I don’t know much about flowers, but I hear they symbolize good fortune.”

“They do?” Satoru asks, slapping the stupefied expression off his face. “I mean, yeah! Of course they do!” He bounces back, soft dimples obliterating a deep-carved frown. “I hope your time here brings you lots of good fortune. I know the place already seems more fortunate with you around.”

You chuckle warmly, locking eyes with an impressed Suguru. No one’s ever made Satoru both lose face and helped him save some over the span of a single five-minute conversation. No one but Suguru himself.

He made the right choice by hiring you.

“The rumors about the future head of the company were true. You really are everything they make you out to be.”

“Huh? What rumors? What do they say about me?” Satoru chases you to your desk, an imaginary tail wagging behind him as he watches you pick up your notebook and flip to a blank page.

“How do you drink your coffee?” A tap of your pen. “I know it’s not much, but...I’d like to repay your kindness.”

Oh no. Here we go again.

“I’m pretty easy. I drink my espresso with six sugar cubes, my cappuccino with nine pumps of caramel syrup, sweet condensed milk, whipped cream, and caramel drizzle on top—and, of course, the six sugar cubes. In the summer— oh crap, I almost forgot, I also like mocha, both white and regular, again same toppings—I usually go for iced lattes with—”

Two minutes into taking his order, and about twenty seconds after your pen stops moving, you glance at Suguru for help. The man simply shrugs, amusement hinted in his cat-like eyes.

There is a good reason why the kitchen’s loaded on instant coffee, and that’s because it’s the only thing that can quench Satoru’s sweet tooth on the spot. You’re going to have to figure that out on your own, just like every other unfortunate soul in this company did when they stupidly offered to treat him.

“That reminds me!” A finger snap concludes his monologue. “Suguru, you know what day it is?”

“Tuesday?”

“You mean one-plus-one Tuesday. Ah, you have no idea how much I've been looking forward to my weekly croquette sandwich; wouldn’t have gotten out of bed if it wasn't for it. Erm , and you ,” he says, again running his fingers through his hair as he bestows you with another laid-back smile. “The two highlights of my week.”

Suguru sighs, convincing himself it’s the prospect of leaving so much work behind that doesn’t excite him and not the sight of Satoru’s affections being subtly reciprocated.

“So, you coming?” Satoru asks.

“I’m gonna have to pass.”

“What?” He gapes, hand clutching his chest like a child who just found out they’re adopted. “Why?”

“Because we are meeting with Tengen’s representatives at the end of the week and they’ll withdraw their investment unless we have a clear model for their merger.” Suguru reminds him. “Besides, Satoru, you don’t need me to buy lunch when you can literally buy out the place with one of your cards.”

Fixing his glasses higher over his nose, Satoru opens his mouth to complain, deciding against it at the last minute. He shoots a haughty look in Suguru's general direction. “Well, if you’re really that busy, then—ah, guess it can’t be helped. Least you can do is be responsible and send a replacement. And who could that replacement be—hmm, if only there was an available candidate.”

He scopes the place with a palm horizontal to his eyes, stopping once he supposedly detects your presence. “What do you say, new girl? Perhaps this could be our chance to get to know each other. I bet there’s so much you’re dying to ask me.” He says with a stare far too playful to be deemed salacious.

Round glasses come off as Satoru leans against your desk and plays up his charms. You are drawn to the blue spirals in his eyes, mesmerized by their sublime beauty, and in a way, it’s nature’s will for the stars to seek the skies, but Suguru can’t stand for it. Not when such bitterness floods his palate, spreading into his bloodstream like poison that prompts his body to move against every volition that isn’t his own.

“Let’s go.” He rasps in a nearly menacing tone, claw-like fingers closing around Satoru’s shoulder. “Your treat.”

"She is scary!" Breadcrumbs fall from Satoru's mouth as he takes another bite out of his lunch, tonkatsu sauce overlining his cupid's bow. "Terrifying even."

"I thought you said she was hot." Suguru states wryly, still in the process of peeling the fifteen layers of wrapping paper that encompass his sandwich, when he pauses to offer Satoru a couple of napkins.

He mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like thank you, and wipes his lips clean, only to dirty them with another sloppy bite.

"She is," he agrees after gulping down, snowy eyelashes fluttering shut to a moan that has people from different tables turning heads to theirs. "Both scary and hot. Scarily hot. Mmm, so damn good~"

Another obscene sound vibrates in his throat, and this time, Suguru fails to hide his disgust, staring at his friend like a disappointed mother at a parent-teacher conference.

"What?" Satoru asks, the blue in his eyes expanding as he touches his cheek. "Is there something on my face?"

"Satoru." Suguru shakes his head, speaking in a quiet voice all the while pleading with him to stop acting grossly in public.

It's safe to say his request isn't received well, although it takes just one mention of your name for Satoru to let go of his grudge and perk up again.

"Did you see how mean she was to me?" The giddiness in his tone fails to match his words. "Ready to walk all over me with those heels. Bet she would have if you weren't there."

"And? Giving up already?" Suguru teases.

"Who said I am?" Satoru chugs his coke. "Just hafta try harder."

Any joy Suguru might have felt at his friend's misery ends up parching in his throat, squinted eyes casting an inexcusably hard glare on the sandwich he grips with malice.

"God, did ya see her smile? Bet her lips taste like heaven."

"And what does heaven taste like?"

"Probably as good as this," Satoru says, nodding to his half-finished meal, "but sweeter. Infinite times sweeter. I'll let you know once I find out for myself."

Every word that comes out of Satoru's mouth causes Suguru's fingers to clutch tighter and tighter until the croquettes explode out of his sandwich, splattering the table and his hand with bits of potato and sauce.

"Ah. Sorry, I wasn't—" Suguru drops the remains on his plate, cleaning his fingers one by one. He isn't even sure what he's apologizing for.

"Want me to get you another?" Satoru offers. "I could go for seconds."

"It's fine. Not hungry anymore."

Gardenia or tuberose?

The same question repeats in Suguru's brain, begging to distract him from the slew of paperwork he's been asked to sign, but not from the actual distraction that is bent over his desk, making him question not just his sanity but also his self-control.

Tuberose.

He doesn't think much of either is left when he breathes in the perfume dabbed around your shirt's open collar, alluring to the point where he catches himself chasing after your neck like a hound dog—heavy breath hitching in his chest.

Gardenia.

He doubts he has any left when his amber eyes peer into your cleavage, tracing the contour between your supple breasts down to the first popped button of your shirt—large palms aching to seize them.

Tuberose.

He realizes he is not half the decent man he was about a month ago when his cock twitches at the sight of your pencil skirt riding higher on your thighs, the black seams of your sheered stockings promising a fast track to your tight little cunt—and how he’d love to gain access to that.

Gardenia or tuberose; who cares?

Figuring out the notes in your perfume is about the last thing Suguru cares about when every inch of his body urges him to blow your back against the lavish mahogany, signing the rest of these documents in a mix of your spit and tears. But it's what helps keep those intrusive thoughts from spilling out.

"One more signature here." Ignorant about his dark impulses, you shuffle through the papers and point at another blank place of signature he needs to fill. "It's a referral agreement for Miss Mei's services. She said the terms were verbally agreed upon, but feel free to go over them again and suggest any adjustments."

"That won't be necessary." With a few quick flicks of his pen, Suguru jots down his name. "Thank you for your hard work."

He struggles to meet your eyes without first halting at your tits as you collect the documents and hug them (regrettably) close to your chest, pulling away from his desk to stand before him.

"Thank you for your hard work, Mr. Geto!" A sweet smile is plastered on your face, and he can't help but wonder whether you'd continue smiling at him if you ever caught a whiff of the filth festering in his brain.

He doesn't like what his feelings have matured into. He's not proud that every time your eyes cross, he muses over what they'd look like rolling to the back of your skull or how sometimes he'll lock his office door and beat his cock to the thought of your pretty nails digging in his thighs while he bullies his length into the heat of your throat.

He hates that those aren't even his own thoughts but were rather instilled in him by Satoru, who couldn't be more vocal and descriptive of his own fantasies if he wanted to. He's the same way about his advances, and it drives Suguru insane to see his friend making such quick headway because he remains Mr. Geto while he gets to be Satoru.

It's all because of that damn merger...

The first time Suguru heard you address Satoru by his first name came right after a business meal he was forced to sit out of. Someone had to deal with the last-minute amendment Tengen requested to their already-filed and approved work plan, while another entertained their prospective investors. Seeing as Satoru was the face of the company, he couldn't possibly miss such an important meeting, and so they divided responsibilities.

Suguru stayed back to deal with the crisis, but not without sending you on his behalf—all pretty and dolled-up in your navy halter dress and black pumps, shining like the evening star by Satoru's side, only to come back completely drained of light with the worst shoe bite known to man.

Ever the observant gentleman, Suguru ran to the nearest drugstore, returning to the office with his heart in his mouth and a bag full of supplies that dropped from his hands the moment he saw his best friend kneel before your feet, tying the shoelaces of a newly bought pair of sneakers.

Thank you, Satoru.

The same scene repeated itself many a time, his lesser romantic gestures outdone by a price tag he couldn't match and words he couldn't brace himself to say just yet.

A fluff of white hair orbited around your desk at a constant, like a bumblebee who'd discovered an inexhaustible source of nectar, and you grew close enough not to swat it—him—away. You'd answer his jokes with mirthful chuckles, and he'd answer your “Here's your stomach ache of a cappuccino, Satoru” with platinum-coated Mont Blanc pens and luxury Moleskine agendas. Plural.

Light touches, flirty smiles, and heart-eyes in both your voices, whose volume bypassed his closed door as an irritating buzz that had Suguru wondering whether there had been a change of offices.

The breaking point came two nights ago, when, in the spur of jealousy, he heaped you with enough work to keep your desk lamp burning all night long. He regretted it as soon as he got into his car, and then he stepped on the pedal, driving to that one Chinese place he and Satoru frequented while they were still students—driving again like a maniac to ensure the food reached you hot.

But great minds think alike.

By the time Suguru made it back into the office, a proper candle-lit dinner was held over the scattered papers on your desk that then doubled as coasters. A second chair was drawn near yours, two silhouettes huddled together. Shoulders nudging, chopsticks lifted—and he refused to stick around long enough to watch his best friend feed dumplings directly into your mouth, along with whatever was bound to follow.

Which pulls him back to the current reality of his foggy windows and the cold tea on his desk, with present-you staring at him, oblivious to his dilemma.

He knows he has no right to feel this way. You aren't his property, and contrary to what the media wants the world to believe, Satoru isn't some heartless womanizer who changes girls the same way people change socks. In fact, Suguru can't remember the last time he saw Satoru this invested in a person. You hitting it off is a good thing. He should be happy.

He should be.

He really should.

But he isn't.

He really isn't.

And he doubts he'll ever be, because in his whole life, he's never envied anything that Satoru has. Not his money, not his status, not his prestige—not anything. You're the first thing he's ever envied—the first he's ever wanted. Because you are his assistant, and within the wretched spiral of his desires, that should amount to something.

You should be his.

"So.” Suguru takes a sip of his tea, trying his hardest not to cringe at its unpleasant, lukewarm taste. "Any special plans for the holidays?"

You shake your head slowly and then with more confidence again.

"That's good." He blurts out, masking his relief with a low chuckle. "I mean—"

“I get it.” You chuckle back. “Not a big fan of the holidays, are you?”

“Not a hater either. Satoru,” he mentally curses himself for bringing him up now, “is the one who gets all excited about Christmas. Gives him the perfect opportunity to put on a show without being chastised by President Gojo. Hard to argue back when he brings up the morale of the team."

“Well, everyone seems to be excited for the party." You add. "Especially the interns; heard them gushing about it with Assistant Manager Haibara."

"I don't suppose Intern Fushiguro was with them, was he?" Suguru smirks as you confirm his suspicions. The boy might be Satoru's protegee, yet the two are like night and day when it comes to means of entertainment.

"It's Intern Kugisaki and Intern Itadori's first Christmas at our company, and the press always finds a way to glorify anything related to the Gojos." Suguru continues. "The annual Christmas party isn't an exception. Outsiders need a special invitation, and only a select few make the cut."

"We should consider ourselves lucky, then." You point out.

"Mhm," he hums. "Come think of it, it's your first Christmas with us too. Are you excited?" A teasing lilt colors his voice.

"Definitely am!" You humor him. "Especially after hearing about the ugly sweater contest."

"Fan of the sport or the prize?"

"Both. But five days at a deluxe resort in Okinawa do sound enticing."

"I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you." Suguru folds his arms over his chest and tilts back against his chair. A condescending look spreads over his features.

You mirror his stance, sticking your right heel out. "And why is that? Are you competing perhaps?"

He snorts as if the notion alone is plain ridiculous. "I'm not, but Nanami is."

"Nanami? Manager Nanami?" You blink in disbelief, trying and mostly failing to contain your laughter. Not like he can fault you. A man as practical and square-minded as Nanami sporting sweaters that feature 3D reindeer heads is a sight one must see in order to believe.

"He's oddly passionate about this." Suguru explains. "He's won every contest for the past four years, just to enjoy a little time off."

"I should give it my best then."

"I'll be cheering for you." He promises with a wink, picking up on the faint blush that dusts your cheeks. A small victory.

You bite your lip and cast a gaze to the floor before lifting your head in search of the clock on his wall. He sighs internally.

"So." You return to the beginning of your discussion.

"So." He repeats with a softer tone.

"I guess I'll be seeing you at the party?"

"Guess you will." He nods, gesturing toward the door. "You may go. I need to finish these first.

You nod back and hold onto the door knob, turning around one last time to bow at him. "There's an extra umbrella on my desk. Feel free to take it."

Before Suguru can even consider his answer, you turn into smoke, leaving him with a hopeful smile he scolds himself for. A thoughtful gesture can't possibly undo all the sorrow and anguish he experienced over the course of a mere month.

And yet he still finds himself skipping to your desk, grinning now at the little piece of paper that dangles from the umbrella's handle. It's not a spare, that's for sure.

As lightning cracks the gloomy skies above, Suguru faces toward the window, tracking the thunder's tail down to gray cement, where colorful umbrellas dance around like anemones. Yours twirls like the most beautiful flower of all, vivid petals drawing into themselves as you're ushered into a white SUV by a hand belonging to a man he knows all too well—driven away while Suguru stands there watching, feeling as if cold rain pours over him instead.

He sets down the umbrella and returns to his office.

After the fifth replay of "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas" blasts over the speakers, Suguru begins to reconsider the answer he gave you less than 24 hours ago.

He hates Christmas—the buzz, the fuss. The forced happiness and the self-inflicted festive glee. The repetitive songs and the continuous camera flash. The stuffy atmosphere and the nausea-inducing blinking lights. How every snack gets labeled with an ambiguous "Christmas flavor," as if a holiday can have a taste in the first place; he hates all that.

But most of all, he hates not being the one to stand beside you under that damn mistletoe—a spectator among spectators and an outcast even among them.

Champagne trembles in his hand as he watches the crowd gather around you and Satoru, smothering you with cheers that sound a beat above the music, excessive clapping synchronized for the sake of a four-letter word chanted like a prayer. Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!

You don't give in to their demands. Not immediately, at least. There is some awkward fumbling, a hand weaving through semi-combed strands of white, and the pointy end of a heel dragging incomplete circles. You shake your heads in unison, giggling, making a very weak effort to get yourselves out of this predicament, though the people know exactly what they want. Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!

It's quick and painless. Chaste, as Satoru leans forward and pecks your cheek, grinning a shit-eating grin from one ear to the other when he pulls away and waves off the jeers. Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Louder this time. His lips move soundlessly, wordless speech bubbles emerging in faux protest as if he isn't dying to kiss you, as if you aren't dying to be kissed by the most important man in the room, as if this poorly executed play isn't staged.

Suguru finds himself wishing you'd get it over with, yet he can't bring himself to turn away. Much like everyone else, his gaze is fixed on you, enchanted by you since day one, and imprisoned in a dismal spell that continues to wring his heart for all its worth, threatening to leave him shattered.

You take initiative this once. Stepping in front of Satoru, your fingers seek the hem of his cream-colored cashmere sweater. You pull him to you, reeling and reeling and reeling, and—

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Geto!" A pair of impressionable eyes widen before him, stretched arms springing from the man's body as he jumps before Suguru like a jack-in-the-box.

"Haibara." He acknowledges with a sigh, uncertain of whether he should be thanking him or scolding him for blocking his view.

By the time his junior pulls aside, the spectacle is already over. Everyone has returned to their previous positions, resuming their conversations away from you and Satoru, who are left gleaming like Christmas ornaments, tinged red from head to toe.

"Mm, these taste so good! Mr. Geto, you need to try one," Haibara says, lifting a platter of canapés from the buffet behind them.

Suguru forces himself to smile as he throws a salmon spread into his mouth. He swallows without understanding any flavor, washing the crumbs away with some more champagne, the buzz of alcohol promising to dull out his affliction.

"Are you enjoying the party?"

"Very much so!" Haibara answers full of excitement. "So many new faces have gathered since last year; I'm so glad to be a part of this. Nanami even let me help with his sweater design!"

"Is that so?" Suguru chuckles wryly, scanning through the guests for the blond.

He spots Nanami loitering by where your desk is normally stationed (the majority of furniture relocated for the sake of opening up the space), and while he cannot see the front of his burgundy sweater, he can easily make out the antler headband sitting on both his and Itadori's heads, the two men seeming to have joined forces.

The discussion between Haibara and Suguru soon turns stale, with the former gushing about the inner happenings of the sales department and the latter absently nodding in approval, his attention monopolized by the exchange between you and Satoru.

Even when the occasional guest butts in, you remain inseparably bound to each other through your clothes (both of you dressed to the nines despite your intent to partake in the contest), your gestures, and the hands that gain familiarity over time. His slips around your lower back as he whispers in your ear; yours throws a playful punch at his shoulder, while you giggle at whatever he just said.

Probably some crappy Christmas pick-up line, Suguru decides. Something like, Wanna pop by my apartment later? No need for any mistletoe when we're both under my sheets, followed by a Satoru! Not here; people are watching .

"Mr. Gojo and Ms. Y/N sure look friendly." Haibara's observation comes as the final nail in the coffin.

Suguru murmurs in a low tone. "Think she's interested in him?"

"Hard to find a person who isn't interested in Mr. Gojo." Haibara earnestly replies.

“Right…”

"But the same goes for you too, Mr. Geto." Haibara's voice prompts Suguru to face him. A soft smile plays on the younger man's lips, his cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink. "I've been looking up to you since I first started working here. All of us do, even Nanami."

"You do?" Suguru draws confidence from his junior's timidity, enough to bestow him with a lopsided smile. "Why is that?"

"Because you are a hard worker!" Haibara declares. "Mr. Gojo is brilliant, but he was born into it. For us to reach him, that's impossible. You, on the other hand—you built yourself from the ground up. You are not only meticulous and good at your job, but you are also immeasurably kind! Both before and after your promotion, you've cared for us juniors and made the company a hospitable place for everyone. You are the goal we aspire to reach; you are our role model."

Working with someone who values their juniors and goes the extra mile for them is like hitting the lottery.

A role model, huh...

Your words mix with Haibara's, swirling round and round at the languid pace of alcohol in his brain, inebriating enough for him to not reject them like he otherwise would. He knows what needs to be said. I'm the one who's grateful. I wouldn't have gotten this far if it weren't for such capable juniors. Satoru is the one you should be thanking instead.

Satoru, Satoru, Satoru .

It's all him; it's always him. Everyone and everything in this room is here because of him, yet for the second time, Suguru is thanked for his efforts. For the nights he spent reviewing reports, fixing typos, and making overseas phone calls. For buttering clients up and spending every waking minute of his life networking. For talking people through their breakdowns and promising them their work makes a difference; that they matter.

It's almost enough to make up for all the unconditional praise his best friend received since birth, though Suguru refuses to let that be his consolation prize. Not when the perfect winning prize lies right ahead of him and waltzes into his office. Alone .

A glassy sound is produced as Suguru drops off his champagne and smiles at his colleague from over his shoulder.

"Merry Christmas, Haibara."

The door creaks softly behind Suguru as he enters his cloakroom-turned office, the faint click of a lock muffled out by the fading party music, its people fading with until it’s just you and him, away from distractions and interruptions, but more importantly, away from Satoru.

You haven’t noticed him yet. Your back’s turned on him, the golden threads of your sweater twinkling in the dark while you rummage through the coat racks, feeling out every texture with your fingertips. Wool, nylon, leather, and finally, cotton. The dark-colored jacket is slung over your arm, with your other hand digging into each pocket for… something .

Something that falls to the wayside once you become aware of the man’s presence and let out a tiny shriek.

“Mr. Geto!” There you go with that damn honorific again. “What are you doing here?"

"Am I not allowed into my own office?" Suguru sneers as he paces farther inside, his palms clasped behind his back.

"Y-you just scared me, is all."

He settles against his desk to study your startled features. You look even more beautiful when there's no one to steal your shine—a modern-day princess Kaguya, beckoned by the moonlight to return to its cratered land, although he’s made up his mind. Unlike the emperor in the story, he won’t let you escape him.

"Wasn't my intention." Drowning out his adoration, he cocks his head to the side and nods at your jacket. “Leaving already?”

“No, uh.” You fidget awkwardly, shoving whatever it is that your fingers caught back in your pocket. “Satoru asked—”

“Satoru, huh?” His tongue clicks in distaste. "You do anything Satoru asks?"

“What?” You question your own hearing, though he knows you heard him just fine. He sees it trembling in your eyes—feels it fanning against his jaw as he pulls away from his desk and stands before you, looking down on you in more than one way.

"I said, you'd do anything as long as Satoru is the one asking?"

"I...I'm not sure I understand."

"You don't?" His tone is syrupy, yet not sweet—a smile too condescending to be compassionate. "Allow me to rephrase, then. If Satoru asked you to spread your legs for him, would you?"

"Mr. Geto, I think you had too much to drink.” You chuckle nervously, gesturing toward his shoulder while simultaneously avoiding his stare. “Should I call you a cab? I don’t think you’re in a condition to drive.”

“No.” Suguru snaps, swatting your hand away. “No, you don’t get to play good assistant now. I asked you a question. Answer.” 

He doesn't miss the hesitant bow of your head, which only confirms his suspicions. You want his best friend, and for once, he doesn't care that you do. It doesn't upset him. If anything, it offers him greater incentive to keep going without regard for your feelings or his own.

"Wasn't so hard, was it?" The last vestige of bitterness follows him to the coffee table, where he grabs a seat by one of the two chairs, wood screeching like nails across a blackboard. Mounting one leg atop the other, "Can't say I blame you. President Gojo is growing too old to be running things, and Satoru already handles the majority of his affairs. Won't be long until he assumes office, and when he does, whoever is on his side will benefit the most."

Your silence encourages Suguru to continue. "But as things currently stand, you aren't all that important to him, are you? And if you were to suddenly lose your position, his interest in you would probably diminish."

"What do you want?" Your voice is meek when you speak—a pitiful sound begging to tug at his heartstrings.

Except he has no pity left.

Suguru leans forward and spreads his thighs over the cushion. His elbows prop against them, with his intertwined fingers providing a seat for his clenched jaw—dark eyes ever drilling holes into your fragile skull.

“It’s not about what I want, but about what you want. You said that working at this company is a great opportunity, and you’re right. It really is. I’d hate for you to lose it over a simple matter of allegiance.”

“Allegiance?” You echo.

He nods. “Don’t you think an assistant should be loyal to the one who hired her? You get paid to do what I say, not whore yourself to Satoru. If I tell you to jump, you should jump, and if I tell you to drop on your knees and stick your tongue out, that’s exactly what you must do. Getting the picture now?”

“Is that…so?” A hum answers your question. “Very well.”

Amber irises harden below knitted eyebrows, their transparent warmth giving way to opaque desire as he watches you approach with steady strides, his cock stiffening in his pants from the sharp intonation of your heels alone. 

Something has shifted within you, though he can’t pinpoint exactly what. It’s like he sees you for the first time, confidence emanating from your very being as you drop off your jacket and gracefully sink on the floor before him, pleated skirt pooling around your bent knees—cherry lips licked together as your hands trail up his slacks and undo his belt, zipper next.

Is this really happening? Was it really that easy?

“Could you lift your hips, please?” You ask demurely, in the same considerate way you’d offer to refill his cup every morning. 

A moment passes before Suguru obliges, part of him failing to separate fantasy from reality. He’s dreamed about this so many times that if it weren't for the soft palms rubbing up and down against his thighs, he’d be pinching himself awake. But you are definitely real, and you’re definitely there, and despite his conscience screaming that this is all wrong, he doesn’t let a future regret hold him back.

Shimmying out of both underwear and pants, Suguru’s cock springs free, already hard and twitching in anticipation, its slight curve pointing at your agape mouth. Your warm breath sends tingles up his spine as you inch closer, your lips rounding and then puckering hard around the fat tip. It's almost enough for him to lose composure, kissing his teeth when he feels your tongue drag a teasing circle on the underside of his shaft, wet and hot and far more skilled than he's ever imagined.

You let go before any praise evades Suguru, studying his lustful expression with a complacent smile that ends up rubbing him the wrong way. How many smiles have you offered Satoru while looking up at him like that? How many times have you practiced your technique on him to hone it to perfection? How many laughs have the two of you shared at Suguru's expense, knowing he's hopelessly wrapped around your dainty little finger?

Quick to wipe the hubris from your face, he takes hold of his cock and delivers a derogatory smack across your cheek.

"Test my patience one more time, and you'll be crawling out of here." His voice retains its smoothness even as he rubs the leaky slit against your lips, smearing a thin coat of glossy precum before he pushes his way back inside. "Better give me a good reason why I should keep an ungrateful slut like you around."

Suguru takes his time to explore your mouth, mapping out the wet cavern in its entirety. Your teeth are tucked behind your lips, their gentle firmness complementing the expert strokes laid by your tongue. Your cheeks hollow to accommodate him, air sucked and drool wetting his throbbing cock, some of it trickling to your chin. It's an extremely tight fit that grows tighter with every inch he stuffs you with, hitting the back of your throat long before he's wholly sheathed.

"Fuck." His head tips back in pure bliss. “Fuck, you feel amazing.”

Doe eyes flick up, their lecherous innocence holding him captive. He thought he'd forsaken all affection held for you, yet his heart begs to differ, lurching at the sight of your bare knees bruising against the polished marble.

He's tempted to call it quits and pull you to his lap, praying that the sweet words piling in his brain seep into your ears like poetry and register as an apology. That, somehow, you forgive the selfish arms cradling you and excuse the greedy lips drinking from your mouth as if it were a chalice; that you allow a heathen like him to express his reverence with deep thrusts and profound pleasure that will make you worship him as much as he longs to worship you, names tangling in a breathless mantra.

He's about to do just that when suddenly he's reminded of how moments ago you were locking lips with his best friend in front of a live audience, and the resentment within him swells anew, expanding like a black hole set on devouring him. He shouldn't hope for more, because you won't be coming back for more. After tonight ends, you'll go running back to Satoru, and he'll be lucky if his attorney's license doesn’t get revoked. 

So much for being a role model.

Might as well enjoy himself while it lasts.

Brushing the sticky strands of hair away from your face, Suguru pulls them into a makeshift ponytail that he uses as leverage to drive himself in deeper, letting out a stuttered groan once he bottoms out. Tears well in your eyes as he holds you completely still, heavy lashes blinking rapidly to filter them out. 

"Lookin' so pretty with my cock in your mouth."  Suguru rasps in a candied tone, his thumb rubbing against the apple of your cheek with tenderness before he forces your head to bob back and forth on his length. "Wonder what Satoru would say if he saw you like this. Perhaps we should call him in, mm ? Have him see what good that little mouth is when it's all plugged and can't talk back. Maybe he'll want to take turns using it. Maybe you’ll walk outta here with a bonus. My capable—ngh—assistant promoted to office slut." 

There’s no way for you to respond. Even if he pulls back this instant, the wit he fell in love with will still be gone. Right now, you’re nothing more than a hole for him to take out his frustrations—no better than an average whore choking on dick.

The party music continues to blare strong in the background, your soft gagging barely enough to mute the rounds of applause that still reverberate in his gauged ears—so he fucks your face faster and harder, his hips slamming forward in tandem with the mean fingers gripping your skull, each thrust producing a sound more sinful than the one before.

He’s hellbent on erasing that kiss from his memory, keen on replacing his friend’s taste with that of his cum, and he’d be damned if he didn’t feel amazing in the process, the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your jaw purely addictive.

And when he catches you rubbing your thighs together, he almost busts on the spot.

“You—hah—you really don’t care who it is, do you? Whether it’s me or him,” Suguru stammers, his tone whinier than he’d hoped. “As long as there’s cock in your mouth, you’re satisfied, aren’t you? Be honest; you aren’t even doing it for the job. You just get off on being used.”

He’s slowed down enough for the pleasurable vibrations on his cock to be felt, your eyes screwed shut with a hand lost between layers of skirt, searching for some sort of relief—relief he decides you don’t deserve.

“Ah-ah-ah! Who said you could cum, hm ?” Suguru chastises you by yanking you off his cock, a string of saliva chasing after your jaw as you stumble backward. “Told you to give me a reason not to fire you, and you did what exactly?” He tilts his head curiously. “That’s what I thought. Absolutely nothing. Not even worth the trouble.” 

“W-wait!”

Before he has the chance to leave you high and dry on the floor, you scramble across your garments and tug at his pants in a pathetic attempt to get him to sit back down. He indulges. Not like he was serious about leaving anyway.

Your palm wraps around the base of his cock as you lean closer, licking a sloppy stripe from the base to his tip, and then all the way down again, sucking one of his balls into your mouth while simultaneously jerking him off. 

“Fuck, you’re nasty.” Suguru breathes out, grabbing at the arms of his chair—his hips bucking into your palm. “Such a nasty little slut. Must really want this cock, huh? Come on. Show me how much you want this.”

Your eyes shine as though he praised you, and this time, you hold nothing back. You moan like you’re the one who derives pleasure, humming and even mewling as you switch from one ball to the other, your nose nuzzling to his warmth.

You pump him without a break, furiously rotating your palm over his cock head and squeezing right below with a ring shaped by your thumb and forefinger. Only he knows how he manages to hold back, pleasure so dizzying that his head spins, rearranging the furniture in the room.

“Th-that’s enough.” He voices amidst a broken moan, gently prying your wrist away—your mouth unlatching soon after.

Everything falls back into order as Suguru provides you both a much-needed reprieve, which you spend soaking in each other’s expressions. Dark strands of hair have fallen from his bun, clear beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. The shadows cast by the blinds conceal his flushed complexion, whereas the contrasting light exposes yours. Your chest heaves with every labored breath you take, mascara smudged beneath your eyes, and lipstick transferred from your lips to his cock, painting the pink tip scarlet red.

You look utterly debauched, but it’s not enough for him to call it a day. He wants more of you on him and more of him on you—more evidence that tonight wasn’t a figment of his imagination, taking place in the men’s room in between insufferable business meetings. Rather than keeping things a secret, he wants the whole world to know what transpired behind the closed doors of his office, and that sparks an idea.

He needs to put more of him in you.

With a small smile playing on his lips, Suguru helps you up, steadying you against his arms until you're able to stand on your own. You thank him with a hoarse voice and wobble on your heels as you're made to follow him to his desk, assuming position without him needing to speak a single command. You bend over the hard surface like you did the previous day and all the days before that, except your skirt's now rolled well over your thighs, and nothing obscures his view of your panties.

“How eager,” Suguru murmurs as he caresses the curve of your bare ass down to your clothed cunt, parting with a sigh when his pointer traces over the drenched fabric and prods it into your slit. “So wet from sucking my dick? Sure you weren’t thinking of someone else?” 

“N-no.”  

“No?” A smirk rings in his tone. “You don’t sound too sure.” 

“Y-yes. I mean, n-no—oh fuck, r-right there!”

Your hips push back against Suguru’s hand, grinding against the long fingers that tug your panties to the side and slip into your wet hole.

He lazily works you open, each thrust concluding with his fingertips curling right into your sweet spot, coaxing soft whimpers to spill from your lips.

He pulls out once he feels you're sufficiently stretched, taking a second to admire the thin essence that dribbles down his digits before he uses it to lather up his cock, fighting back moans of his own whilst fisting himself to the lewd sight of his assistant offering herself to him.

Under different circumstances, he would've taken things slow. Under different circumstances, you’d be threading your fingers through his hair and sitting where you could comfortably watch him disappear between your thighs. You'd call out his name, and he'd lap at your juices until you're unable to hold yourself from cumming all over his face. Only then would he pepper your trembling thighs with kisses and tell you how well you did for him—what a good girl you are; his good girl.

“Doesn’t matter.” Suguru says for himself to hear, and it really doesn’t. Those ideal circumstances he dreams about are a thing of the past.

With a firm hand pressing on your back, he straightens you against the desk and runs his swollen cock head through your folds, voice laden with desire when he whispers, “Let’s see whose name you moan now, mm? ”

His thoughts hush as soon as his girth catches into the tight entrance of your cunt—a sigh gritted through his teeth as he finally sinks in.

He gives you a second to adjust, when in reality, it's him who needs the breather. All the longing and desire, the frustration and despair that'd been pooling in him for the past few weeks, culminate in this one perfect moment where your velvet walls hug his throbbing length, constricting around every inch he feeds inside you.

It's cathartic.

He remains breathing through his nose for a good while, too scared to open his mouth, lest he say something embarrassing enough to want to smack his head with the silver name plate on his desk right after. He's aware of how ridiculous it'd sound if he suddenly blurted out that he loves you, yet the warm feeling coursing through his veins can only be described as such. 

Luckily, his final choice of words ends up being far more sensible.

“S-so fucking tight—”

“For a whore?” You interrupt, your droopy head lifting from over your slumped shoulders to bestow him with yet another winsome smile. God, you’re pretty.

“Never called you a whore.” Suguru's lips crack into a smirk of their own, while his fingers knead the fat of your ass, spreading your cheeks for him to see the point where you connect. A pearly ring has formed at the base of his cock from your fluids combined, his balls snugly squished between your hips. God, this is so hot.  

His gaze shifts away. If he keeps looking, he just might cum without getting to even fuck you properly.

“You didn’t? My bad. Must have been someone else.” 

"Aren't you cheeky?" A quiet chuckle rumbles in his chest, escalating into a loud groan as his hips pull back and jerk forward in a thrust that knocks both the wind and smugness out of you, the recoil causing your body to jiggle against the desk. "That fucking audacity of yours is what got you in this place to begin with."

You try to say something that he doesn't care to hear, muting your words with a sharp thwack across your ass. You whimper in response, clenching so hard around him that he repeats the motion on the other cheek for good measure, your pathetic whines going straight to his cock. It's scary how much he enjoys this.

"Talking about other men," Suguru begins his recital of your crimes, his hips rutting in time with the smacks inflicted on your reddening flesh. "Accepting gifts and whatnot, letting yourself be paraded around like a fucking trophy"—the hardest slap yet—"guess that really makes you a whore."

Your body doesn’t know how to react, whether to moan from the pain or cry from the pleasure, with your upper half squirming and your lower half stilled against him, taking everything he gives you without complaint.

He pounds into you like an animal, wrapping strong arms around your waist to bring you closer, his cock barely withdrawing before being slapped back inside, fucking straight into your pulsing core.

“D-don’t worry.” Suguru sounds delirious when he talks, with more and more ebony locks cascading from his disheveled bun down his face and shoulders. “We’re gonna fix that, mm? Gonna be mine from now on. Mine to kiss." His weight is held against your body as he leans forward, large frame dwarfing you as he plants his lips on your nape. “Mine to touch,” his arms squeeze even harder, “and—ngh, all mine to fuck. My. Fucking. Assistant.” He growls, punctuating every word with another thrust.

Suguru feels himself nearing his release, his balls tightening the longer your pussy grips him, until a knock on the door causes the sweat on his body to go cold and forces him to sober up.

“Hello? Is anyone in there?” 

With quick reflexes, Suguru slaps a hand on your mouth, concentrating every bit of his willpower on figuring out the best course of action, all the while the knob rattles at Nanami's attempts to break into the room, complementary pangs echoing against the wood.

“I just need my coat; open up!” 

Whatever took over Suguru seems to have vanished into thin air, leaving him to fend for himself. It’s only then that the severity of the situation becomes apparent. Not only did he coerce his assistant to fuck him, but he did so at a company event where reporters from every major news agency have gathered for a chance to dig up dirt on the Gojos. If word gets out, they're all done for. Suguru, Satoru, the company—every person’s livelihood that depends on the Gojo name will go to waste.

He's hit rock bottom, drowning in self-deprecation, when your fingers curl around his hand and drag it away from your mouth, your thumb squeezing the inside of his palm in a motion that compels him to trust you.

"Manager Nanami?” Your voice sounds so worn out that it's barely recognizable, but it's good. It makes your next sentence more believable. "I'm so sorry for the holdup, but I wasn't feeling too well. Could you, um, give me five to ten more minutes? I promise to bring your coat out myself."

For what feels like an eternity, silence reigns both inside and outside the room, the two of you holding your breaths while the man on the other side of the door decides your fate.

“Fine.” Nanami finally speaks. “Please don’t take too long. I have a train to catch."

"Thank you so much!" You sigh in relief, your forehead pressing forward against the furniture.

A few moments pass before Suguru braces himself to talk, feeling too flustered to let relief wash over him just yet. "Why did you do that? Why would you—"

"Because I'm your assistant." Only half of your smile is visible from that angle, yet it somehow appears more genuine than the previous ones. "You said it yourself. An assistant should be loyal to the one who hired her. It's my duty to look after you."

Your words make Suguru come face-to-face with a realization that, for the longest time, he's conveniently ignored. You aren't equals. You never were. No matter how hard he's tried to bridge the gap between you, it's still there, paralleling the one between him and Satoru, except in both cases, the sore loser remains no one but himself.

"Now, let's hurry up." Your ass rubs impatiently against his pelvis, reminding him that his cock is still snuggled in your cunt. "We don't have much time."

Postponing soul-searching for as long as he can, Suguru picks himself up and slips a hand between your thighs, easily spotting the neglected nub that throbs above your abused pussy lips.

His thumb swipes over your clit, testing a combination of short circles and light flicks that have you seesawing back and forth between his hand and hips, soft moans of pleasure playing like music in his ears. He much prefers them to your sobs.

"F-feels so good, ahh."

"Such a good girl. Learned her lesson, hm?" He hums, lusciously massaging your insides with his cock, his pace far more forgiving.

He gets to relish everything this time. From the intimate way you hold onto his free hand while pushing back to meet his thrusts, to the stuttered Mr. Geto's that complement your pretty whimpers. He feels himself burning up, the heat from your core circuiting his own body and permeating the deepest parts of his soul. He's drunk on you, feeling more heady when inhaling your perfume than he did sipping champagne all night long.

"Mr. Geto, I'm gonna—" The rest of your sentence is cut off, sharp nails digging into his flesh while your shoulders tense up.

"Gonna cum, sweetheart?" Suguru asks, adrenaline rushing to his thick cock that insists on kissing your cervix while his fingers continuously assault the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. "Go ahead. My pretty assistant worked hard for it, didn't she? Proved how much she—f-fuck, she deserves her boss' dick. Cum on this dick, baby. Wanna feel you cum all over me."

"Please, Mr. Geto, pleasepleaseplease , right there, ahhh , please fuck me." Your begging has him losing his mind, the dam between his thoughts and his tongue breaking as he goes on to praise your very existence, no filter whatsoever.

"You were worth the wait. Wanted to do this since d-day one," Suguru pants out, shaking his head with a faint smile. "No, even longer than that. Been wanting you since I saw your picture, fuck—" He bites his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. "Feels like I've been waiting on you forever." 

His confession overlaps with your release, your walls spasming and contracting while the rest of your body goes limp. Suguru knows he won't last much longer, his pace growing sloppier by the minute as the aftershocks of your bliss reel him in, sculpted abs clenching in sync with his heavy balls until his hips come to a complete stutter, ropes upon ropes of his creamy seedy sputtering into your warm cunt.

A string of curses is unleashed as he groans your name, and he's still shuddering when he pulls out, staring wide-eyed at the mess he made. His cum flows out of your hole in a steady stream, trickling down your thighs as if taunting him to plug it back in. He doesn't think he's ever finished this hard in his life, and yet his cock insists on twitching even in the comfort of his palm.

Mesmerized by the sight of your spent pussy squirting out your shared fluids, Suguru makes no real effort to dress himself until his eyes spot the sparse drops that have dribbled from his weeping tip to the carpet below, and panic rings in his head like an alarm.

Frantically, he scans the dimly lit room for some paper—a cloth or a towel; anything that'd help him clean up—only to be struck with disappointment. He keeps none of these items around, and while he's mostly proactive about emergencies, he doubts plowing his assistant qualifies as one.

He's off to find the light switch (not without awkwardly tripping in his pants like a penguin first) when you sneak up behind him, your outfit put back together, with a tissue hanging from your open fingers.

"Whores always clean after themselves." You smile sweetly as Suguru accepts the offering.

The dark-haired man crouches to pick up his pants after wiping his cock clean. A smirk is plastered on his face as he tucks himself back into his underwear and crumples the used paper into a ball that gets tossed in the bin beside him.

"Gonna keep holding that against me?" He asks once he's gone back to looking somewhat presentable.

"Hmm, probably until Monday." Your chuckle placates his heart, only to make it thrum against his chest a second later. "Unless...you don't mind speeding up the process."

Your eyes pierce through him, shining brighter than the light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. He almost wishes the room were kept in darkness, for the sole reason that his surprise remains hidden, hope lumping in his throat.

"What are you suggesting?"

You clutch onto your jacket while pacing around the room, halting in front of the stacked bookshelves mounted on one of the four walls. Your head tilts slightly as you explore his collection of hardcovers and attempt to read the cursive characters on one of his certificates, your smile losing its vibrancy as you go back to facing him, your eyes focusing anywhere but his.

"Rather than neither of us doing anything special for the holidays," you finally speak, "how about we do nothing special for the holidays together?" You lick your lips together, cringing at the way your voice cracks over the last syllable. "Say, outside Meiji Memorial Museum around 6 p.m. tomorrow?"

Suguru catches himself holding his breath, nitpicking your words even when they leave no room for ambiguity. "Are you asking me out?"

Your head is held low as you nod. "I figured after what just happened, you might be interested."

The lump in his throat dissolves only to recur immediately after.

"What about Satoru?" He asks in a hushed tone, prepared for disappointment.

"Satoru is," a small smile creeps up, "he's the most amazing person I've ever met, and will probably meet in my entire life. But," you gnaw on your lips, briefly meeting his eyes, "I have a preference for dark-haired workaholics." He nearly disputes the color of his own hair, relying on the reflection in your eyes to confirm his identity.

"Is that how you see me?"

"That's how most people in the office see you. If you were to ask me, I'd add kind to the list. Generous. Warm. Sly," you giggle before whispering the next word, "sexy."

Heat rises to his cheeks as Suguru wordlessly gawks at you. To say he's taken aback is an understatement. Part of him feels so ecstatic that he could grow wings and fly off into the night sky, while another part wants him to fall at your feet and beg for forgiveness.

He's such an idiot. No, more than an idiot, he is an irredeemable bastard who deserves none of your sympathy after what he did, and yet you don't seem to blame him one bit. If anything, you gaze at him with more affection than you've ever shown to either him or Satoru, affection that obliterates any doubt.

It's him. For once, and for all, and against all odds, it's him who gets to stand under the mistletoe beside you.

"If you're gonna reject me, please do it now." You squint in the cutest way imaginable. "I don't want to ruin my make-up."

Suguru smiles, allowing himself to openly fawn over your concerned expression.

"I'm afraid it's too late for that. Might wanna," he says, vaguely gesturing at your face.

Your knuckles turn black after rubbing below your eyes. Horrified, you dig another tissue from your pocket, hurriedly scrubbing wherever you deem necessary. "Better now?"

"I'd still dash straight to the elevator if I were you." Suguru chuckles at the face you make, taking a step forward. He runs his tongue along his lips, his voice reduced to a purr when he speaks. "You're right. Don't think I can wait until Monday to see you again." The proximity between your heads begs to be nullified, and he's made up his mind. He can't afford to lose you. Not as an assistant, and certainly not as a woman. He's shameless like that.

Bringing his palm to your cheek, Suguru pulls you toward him, planting a soft peck on your lips that tastes like finally.

By the time he draws away, you're both smiling—breathless, despite the kiss lasting less than a second. His hand glides from your neck to the curve of your shoulder, caressing tenderly, while yours rises to his forehead, having mustered enough courage to tuck the the loose strands of hair behind his ear.

"I should probably go first." Your announcement prickles his heart like a thorn. Walking into this room, he'd braced himself for losing you, yet now he can't even stomach the idea of spending a minute without you. "Don't want Manager Nanami to lose his train."

Not being left with much of a choice on the matter, Suguru nods, sighing softly as he watches you grab Nanami's coat and loop it around your arm, heading for the door. Your goodbye is postponed as you turn around with a jewelry-sized box in hand, the same item you were caught fumbling with when he entered the room earlier.

"This is from Satoru." You explain. "I don't know why or what's inside, but he said I should be the one who gives it to you."

When Suguru accepts it, you smile again and bow your head. "Merry Christmas, Suguru."

On second thought, he's so happy he could die.

Suguru is tinged red from head to toe as he sends you off with the same wish, undoing the silver ribbon that holds the box together after the door closes behind you. It's too small to contain an explosive mechanism, that's for sure, but he doesn't hear much of any rattling as he shakes its contents. His confusion grows tenfold once he lifts the lid and is greeted by the folded piece of paper within.

Unfolding it, the note reads a single sentence whose meaning registers in waves that crash over him along with the memories of the past month, the truths and the lies debunked with every repetition of those seven pesky little words.

Now you know what heaven tastes like.

A/N: I know what y'all wondering, and yes. Nanami did win the competition. Oh, and Satoru totally didn't plot behind the scenes for Suguru to make the first move. totally.

Hope you enjoyed this, and I'd love to hear your thoughts, since this is my first time writing for Suguru.

Disclaimer: He did nothing wrong and he remains a pookie.

Somehow.

[natewriteslol]

hi! could you please do a kabru version of that “dungeon meshi having a crush on you”? i’d like fem! reader but neutral reader is good too! you can add any characters you like! (if you want to) 💓

Delicious in Dungeon Characters Having a Crush on You HC's Pt.2

Summary: Just like the title says it's how these characters would react to having a crush on you!

Characters: Kabru, Sharon and Falin

Reader is gender-neutral :)

Kabru:

-He is a person who doesn't really understand his feelings and WILL put them off to the side because he does not want to confront them

-And I mean he heavily avoids those romantic feelings because he does not want to become attached to someone who either one, won't reciprocate or if something happens to them would cause such heavy devastation to his mind

-Kabru does not know if he wants you, or if he has the urge to kill you for the first couple of weeks of developing romantic feelings. In order for him to have a crush on you he would have to find you highly interesting, which is what he originally thinks, you're just unique that's why he wants to know more.

-He grapples with his feelings, both hating that he barely understands himself and also loving succumbing to these emotions of his.

-After some processing by himself and asking a couple "inconspicuous" questions to some of the members of the party, he realizes that the strange foreign feeling he has is love and fondness for you

-Highlt observant of your likes and dislikes and occasionally gifts you something you've had your eyes on

-He is REALLY protective whenever anything goes down, Kabru is there right infront of you and ready to sacrifice his life for you blade in hand

-You find out that Kabru likes you when you and him were bashed inside the walls of a castle, and although the party won, the battle did not come without consequence

-You had been stabbed from the back of your head by a Marilith, the sword peaking to your forehead. The serpentine demon with her free arms grabbed your head, throwing you into the wall of the dungeon.

-Kabru's eyes had went cold, almost immediately slaying the beast, cutting into her scaly skin. Again, and again and again.

-And once the creature had been beaten into a pulp, he ran without a word to you despite being called repeatedly by the rest of the team. All he could think about is you and if you would be alright.

-As he scooped you into his arms, away from others' eyes, he was genuinely scared. Scared for you and if you could even be revived, let alone with no catch or consequence.

- "I...can't do this dungeon without you Y/N. I need you..."

-He took a deep breath before letting the words leave his throat, "I love you, Y/N."

-And then you began screaming, holding your head in your hands, and crying out to every God possible to come and save you.

- Holm had activated healing for your party by injecting his magic through the ground of the surrounding area, you had just started healing your stab wound with the common side effect of feeling that exact pain and being conscious right as Kabru began his confession.

-And yes, that would mean that you heard every word of adoration and passion from the once "mysterious non-emotionally vulnerable" Kabru

Shuro:

-I mean this in the nicest way possible, but if you didn't get the slightest hint that this man is head over heels for you...please get checked out

-So extremely obvious everyone has no idea how you didn't understand nor expect it as he is obsessed with you and does not care as much for literally anyone except you.

-Every time he would save you, protect only you, gift something to you, provide and be there on foot for you, you thought he was just being kind out of the goodness of his own heart. And sure that could be a justified reason, honestly.

-The onyx haired samurai only speaks highly of you when it comes to everything and can be found right by your side at all times. He was essentially your own personal guard if you wanted him to be, whenever he was questioned about it he would say that it us just his duty as a warrior to protect.

-But there would be times that were completely unjustifiable that you would just think the samurai was just being silly and making a joke!

-Was it silly when the old party was still together, you came across some furniture you absolutely loved and this man said, "I'll ensure that piece is in in our home once we're together, Y/N."

-Is at your beck and call constantly yet every single time without fail his confession would be interrupted ranging from casual, everyday duties to life or death situations.

-Shuro was praying to every God above for an opportunity to tell you how he felt. Until one day the party was separated into small groups to find different maps to easily found, non-dangerous treasure unlocked with puzzle games within a magical forest.

-Your section of the woods was absolutely beautiful, wisteria trees were spread throughout the landscape, almost making every object have a purple hue to it. The name bestowed upon it was, "The Heart of Eros" and solving the puzzle was a breeze and once you finished you were given a treasure chest that mimicked traditional jewelery boxes and a glass jar, mimicking the human heart with flowers grown all over it.

-It had a mystical, pink glow to it and inside was a scroll that Shuro took out to read for himself, as his eyes laid on the paper, ink began to appear on it before him,

-"Your soul is brave, yet you fear what your heart wants. Take the leap that you need."

-He reached a point where he absolutely could not take it anymore, and this was his final assurance to say what has been on his mind for months.

-He mustered up all of his bravery despite his anxiety making it hard for him to breathe (on the bright side there is no shame to be had as there was no one to hear him). Shuro began his speech but you began to look at him as his dark eyes studied the mysterious scroll, catching your attention completely.

-The sight of your attention being on him made a lump form in the long haired mans' throat, however he persisted, "Y/N, I need you to know that there is something I've been holding in for a while."

-"Shuro are you okay? You look like you have a fever-"

-As much as he enjoyed your silly inquiries, the samurai spared you no time to reply fully and held your hands as he looked at you, "I love you. I-I was never scared to love you, but I was frightened about the thought of letting you know. Your love, your gaze, your smile, your everything means the world to me and I know that I need to spend the rest of my life with you."

Falin:

-Very subtle as although she may not appear it, she is amazing at keeping secrets, especially her own.

-But there is one thing that is critical that differentiates you from the others which is A. How Falin talks about you and B. How touchy she is with you. When the blonde speaks about you, her eyes get a twinkle and would always throw in compliments from how talented you are, how you're so strong, and accidentally would trail off talking about your appearance.

-Now Falin being touchy is not out of the question for many but usually at the campfires, battles and walking she can always be found right next to you

-She likes to bring you small gifts such as a cute, small flower or a pearl from a giant mollusk

-How you find out she is in love with you is through her own journal that she takes with her everywhere. Unfortunately due to your injuries you had to be teleported by Marcille back to the surface of the dungeon, separating you both. Your last words were to Falin who despite her soft voice, was losing her mind as she held your injured head in her hands.

-"I promise I'll meet you soon down here, I promise I won't die again," you replied to her tears, trying to make her laugh despite the metallic taste of blood making it's way on your tongue.

-You were travelling with a party you met on the first floor, they heeded to your terms of wanting to find your friends and as you were in the deeper depths of the dungeon, you encountered a familiar navy blue book with flexible leather twine wrapped around it.

-At first you were cussed out and reprimanded for picking up a random book on the floor of the dungeon but you quickly explained as you opened the first page and gazed upon the beautiful handwriting enscripted in black ink.

-"Property of Falin Touden"

-Although you tried to resist, and she most likely could have it magically locked reading it further, curiosity was eating you up like a hungry goblin. After all, what's the harm in just reading a bit and finding some cool secrets about her.

-So during the campfire, you cleaned off your hands after eating and got to reading which recounted your days of adventure, happily talking about past memories and some sketches of creatures she saw. You chuckled at the sight of them, it was a trait her and her brother carried all too well.

-But...you began to notice you would make so many appearances in these journalings. Even containing a well drawn picture of you on a page about you and Falin's solo mission to a foresty part of the dungeon.

-You felt so overjoyed that your friend Falin thought you were amazing, and had so much awe and respect for you.

"It might be forbidden for party members to feel this way over one another but I cannot stop myself. Them saving me today, it just makes me fall more deeper in love. I don't exactly know where their heart resides or where they may be right now, but I just want them to be mine more and more every single day. I curse myself every hour for not telling Y/N how I felt before they left for the healers above."

-The date sketched at the top proved two things, one it was only two days old meaning that they couldn't have moved extremely far and also that snooping is never too bad of an idea.

[fbfh]

Sweet Pea x soft!reader hcs

wc: 1.3k

genre: mutual pining, tooth rotting fluff

pairing: sweet pea x soft reader

warnings: reader is implied to be smaller than sweet pea but he's like 6'3 and beefy so it's not too out of the question, reader is called clingy needs attention and hates being alone by jughead but sweet pea LOVES that about you, size difference, protective sweet pea, sweet pea is a rottweiler boyfriend, kisses and cuddles, mentions of fighting and gang activity

song recs: fight for me - heathers obc, big boy - sza

a/n: been watching the anime my love story and it's feuling my sweet pea obsession lol. I've also decided that while horribly bad, riverdale is camp. If I convince myself it's camp I can drag myself through it. It's supposed to be bad and make no sense and of course there's a "goblin king" running around town causing problems because it's camp.

tags: @yesv01 @magcon7280

Okay so like I said in my initial drabble

When Sweet Pea first sees you he deadass thinks you’re an angel

You are so sweet and soft and perfect

The only way to describe you is angelic

He’s so wrapped up in how alluring and enamoring you are that he doesn’t notice you’re just as drawn to him

You immediately see past his gorgeous and intimidating exterior to the soft great big heart inside him

You see all his good traits and you’re not scared off that he’s a little rough around the edges

But Sweet Pea sees that you’re not rough around the edges

And he doesn’t want you to become that way

Especially not because of him

He feels so protective over you from day one

Even though he’s fighting his obvious feelings for you and ignoring your obvious feelings for him, he still tries to look out for you

Keeps an eye on you a little, just to make sure no one’s giving you any trouble

You’re friends with Betty so you’re sort of tied to the serpents already, but he doesn’t want to drag you any deeper into gang life than you already are

So he tries not to fall any harder for you than he already has

Even though Jughead is always bringing you up, telling him that Betty says you’ve been asking after him

He can’t even process that Jughead just said you’ve been asking after him and about him a lot because of how Jughead keeps describing you

He says you’re sort of clingy and need a lot of attention, that you get nervous in crowds and you’re really touchy and hate being alone 

That’s why your last boyfriend broke up with you

But the more Jughead talks about you and your apparent flaws, the more perfect you sound to Sweet Pea

You’re exactly what he’s been dreaming of

Someone he can go all in with, someone who wants him and needs him as much as he wants you and needs you

Which is obviously a lot

And now it’s getting harder and harder to listen to that logical voice that tells him he’s no good for you, that you deserve someone from northside who can take good care of you and not drag you into any more chaos than you’re already surrounded by 

But you’ve been writing his name in your diary over and over for weeks now, and it’s really just a matter of time before you end up together 

All your friends know this

Betty and Jughead and Toni know this

Even Fangs knows this

Everyone knows but you and Sweet Pea

You both still think it’s an unreciprocated pipe dream

Something to imagine scenarios about before you fall asleep

You’re more alike than you realize 

But soon you find your way to each other

You just can’t stay away anymore

And once you’re together, once you’re finally in his arms, neither of you ever want to let go

Sweet Pea is an amazing boyfriend to begin with

But especially when it comes to someone as soft and sweet and precious as you?????

He’s literally the best person you could ever hope for

He’s a classic rottweiler boyfriend 

AND he’s a gang boyfriend

Plus Sweet Pea’s just naturally a very protective person to the people he loves

So you can guarantee you’ll be safe with him

He won’t hesitate to stare down anyone he thinks looks at you too long

But he’s not going to start shit with you around unless he has to

If he does need to fight someone, he’s going to make sure you’re not there to see it

Even if he has to ask Betty or Veronica or Fangs to drag you into the other room and stay with you until it’s over

He doesn’t want you to see him like that

But he knows how to hold his own, and Fangs and Toni both reassure you there’s not a fight he hasn’t been able to walk away from

You’re always there to patch him up afterwards too

You touch him so gently

With more love and care and tenderness than he’s ever gotten from anyone before

It makes it kind of impossible to regret sticking up for you

Even if he did walk away with some nasty scratches and a black eye

You’re still not scared of him

You don’t judge him

Like at all

He always makes you feel so safe around him 

All he’s wanted for a while is someone to go all in with

Someone to protect, someone to take care of

Someone who needs him

And you do 

You spend more and more nights together before finally confessing that you can’t really sleep without him anymore

When I tell you his heart explodes when you say that?????

God as if you couldn’t get him wrapped even tighter around your finger

Surprise! Yes you can

He dips you a lot too

Mostly because he’s so tall and it’s so easy and it makes you so nervous when he pulls you close and leans over you like that

It makes you all dizzy and he talks so close to your face for a few moments before finally kissing you

GOD it makes your head spin

You can’t get enough

And he can’t get enough of the way you look up at him all soft and sweet

Like you’re not scared of him

Which you’re not

It’s still kind of new for him

But it’s something he really hopes he can get used to

He’s touchy too

He pulls you into his lap and rests his head on your shoulder a lot

Or wraps his arms around yours

Don’t even get me started on holding his big old hands with both of yours

It makes his stomach flip every single time

And SO MANY FOREHEAD KISSES

You kiss his neck and jaw a lot too

Mostly because it’s all you can reach half the time

And because you know it drives him completely crazy

If you ever worried about getting unwanted attention from guys, you don’t have to anymore

EVERYBODY knows you’re Sweet Pea’s 

And EVERYBODY knows not to fuck with him

Sweet Pea can be fucking terrifying when he wants to

Which makes things like him pinning you to the couch and tickling you until you tap out and you’re both blushing giggly wrecks even cuter  

You completely and totally have scary boyfriend privileges 

And you take such good care of him too

He really doesn’t think he’s ever been this happy and content and at peace

His friends can easily attest to the fact that they’ve never seen him this happy either

And your friends have never seen you this happy too 

Over all, you’re really just a fantastic match

You become the emotional support couple of riverdale high so fast

People get used to seeing him walk you to classes he doesn’t even have 

Seeing you ride around town on the back of his motorcycle together 

Because you belong together

You really do

Sweet Pea might not know what the future is going to look like

He might not know what’s going to happen tomorrow

But the only thing he does know about his future is that you’re going to be in it

And he’s going to be in yours

You’re starting to make him dream about a soft domestic life away from gangs and murder and conspiracies

He doesn’t know if that’s practical or attainable, but he hopes it is

Until then, he’s more than happy just getting to be around you

Getting to see you all the time and wake up next to each other on the weekends

He loves loving you, he loves keeping you safe and happy

Just like you love him and keep him happier than he’s ever been

Just being with you is more than enough

[caorann8]

Grief in Dawntrail

Alrighty, here are my thoughts as a funeral director having finished Dawntrail. Obviously spoilers under the cut.

When someone says a game feels like work, that’s normally a bad thing. In this case it’s not. Two of Dawntrail’s themes are community/their different cultures and grief and while they’re explored more separately in the two halves of the story they are intrinsically linked. Funerals at their core are about remembering the person who’s died and coming together to support each other and remember the person. Even with the decline of “traditional” funerals, people who are just having a cremation and nothing else from the funeral home often say they’ll have something at home with their friends and family.

This is why Sphene pissed me off from the start. With the Yok Huy we see a beautiful funeral tradition. The body may return to the mountains but their legacy will always remain for their community to read and remember over and over again, even for future generations. Meanwhile Sphene echo’s the same message, “You will never die so long as you’re remembered” but then removes the memories as a misguided attempt to protect her people. They aren’t remembered, they’re actively forgotten by their entire community until those people die too.

Death and grief are complicated things. Something we learn in school is there are no stages as most people think. It’s a roller coaster that goes forward and back, has good days and bad days, and will sometimes crop up years later. What lessens it is allowing yourself to process it, and support from friends/family/community helps immensely. By denying them these memories, Sphene denies them growth and stronger bonds. A friend of mine said the people of Alexandria wouldn’t survive the Final Days and I agree. We even see this in the WoL! How many times are we able to quote Haurchefant or other characters who have died but made an impact on our journey? Even Emet-Selch asks us to remember them. The ancient’s love, their follies, the good and bad. While grief hurts in so many different ways, we often come out on the other side better, whether that be with new tools, new outlooks, or even just relief that the person isn’t suffering.

And this doesn’t just apply to people we care for. Look at the death of Zoraal Ja. Wuk Lamat hated him and he’d abandoned Gulool Ja. Regret or joy that it’s over are valid feelings . Both grieved in their own ways and had support to work through it. The fact that they were actively told to take a break to process everything, both after his death and after the attack on Tullioyal, was a beautiful touch. Grief is exhausting after all.

Finally, I want to talk about my experience going through Living Memory. That’s the part that truly felt like my work. Just sitting and listening to people say their final goodbyes to their loved ones. Some crying, some laughing at good memories, some angry, but all taking that moment. I didn’t cry really (except Cahcuia, that one got me), I got choked up and there was a heaviness for a lot of it, but there’s a joy in knowing nothing’s left unsaid. Even deleting the areas didn’t affect me much. They each got their last hurrah, like a eulogy at a service or stories shared over a meal. Plus the knowledge that reincarnation exists in FFXIV means they’ll be able to enjoy life again.

At the end of the day grief, in all its forms from the end of relationships, to what could’ve been, to death of a loved one, shouldn’t be swept under a rug. When people find out I’m a funeral director I often get asked if it’s “depressing with all the crying” and I always reply that I hear laughter coming from visitation rooms more often than tears.

[n3ptun3e]

—SUNSHINE BOY!

shisui uchiha x reader + headcanons

how shisui would eventually fall in love with you!

notes: listen, i’m no writer and my english is kind of shit, but desperate times call for desperate measures and i’m starving for cute shisui content with no inc3st in it, so this was born!! please enjoy it!

honestly? i just did this because it’s too fun to decorate the posts

You two became friends in the short period he was in the academy speed running through classes. He was pretty popular just like any other clan kid with the prodigy title, and since the whole “ostracize the uchiha clan” didn’t happen yet, at least not as obvious as it was in the series, the both of you would train or just spend lunch together, probably invites you to his house. Training in a secluded part of the forest and having deep talks would be one of his favorite activities to do with you. He loves loves to delve into the depths of other people’s minds and try to figure them out, what makes you act this way, your thought process, how does your mind works? he wants to know this because he wants to know the real you, to understand the puzzle that you are, it’s his way to show that he cares, otherwise he wouldn’t keep you as close as you are. He probably doesn’t even realize his thoughts are way more…technical? for scientific purposes only☝🏻 than your average person, because he’s a prodigy and all that, so he can come off as a little bit blunt (though as he grows up he’s much more suave and smooth when sharing his thoughts. Clan meetings and political bullshit does that to someone) but he has the bestest intentions in mind being the altruist that he is. He’s a curious and smart boy!!!

Either way, he likes to spend time with you, you saw the real him, not shisui the prodigy, shunshin no shisui, or the “weird and show off guy”, but him. If he had any other friends besides you, they would be gone once the kyuubi attack happens. Konoha doesn’t have the best education, so the kids would just follow what their parents told them and some adults already didn’t like him, so there really wasn’t anyone else around. It’s around this time that he met Itachi, seeing a glimpse of him and his long dead friend on the child, he decides to take him under his wing.

I’m not sure if it’s canon, but it’s stated in some places that he unlocked his mangekyõ because of his teammate, his friend that was more powerful than him, shisui was envious, jealous even. one day on a mission his friend got hurt and needed assistance, but shisui as team captain decided to follow through with the mission and his friend ended up dying. and THAT’S the crucial moment where he’s going to need someone the most. He’s a uchiha, they have big hearts and just feel more, much more than your average person, the blame crushes him, he’s already a gentle soul who is forced to kill others for his own village, and to make matters worse they are in war times, you saw how obito and naruto turned out very different because of it right? that, plus the start of the apparent hate and suspicion of the village towards his clan, makes way for rumors, “he’s an Uchiha, what else would we expect from him…? you should be careful, they are not to be trusted”. I imagine his clan would push and pressure him to become more powerful, to “Bring pride into the clan” moving him up in the ranks, making him enter anbu as a child even if he’s already a jõnin.

He just breaks, childish glint in his eyes gone, so he comes to you, “i didn’t know where else to go…” he breaks down in your arms, silent tears falling from his eyes as he clings onto you, his grip tight as if you would disappear at any moment, his only friend that didn’t left him. All the tension and adrenaline from battle would eventually leave his body as he relaxes, letting out all his frustrations away, feeling so fucking tired, body getting out of survival mode, his thoughts and feelings finally getting to him, you hug him tight and strokes his unruly dark curls, soothing hand on his back and whispering calming and reassuring words in his ear, his tears in your shirt slowly turn red, and when you pull away to dry his tears you gasp as you see the intricate pattern on his bleeding red eyes.

THAT’S when you two become even more close. Shisui was always caring and protective of you, but now as you two have grown up he gets even worse, always having a hand on you, arm around your shoulder as he teases you, giving you a little wink before flicking off existence. god, when he finally perfects the body flicker he becomes a menace, appearing out of nowhere inches away from your face, blowing out a puff of air into the back of your neck as you almost rips him in half thinking it was a enemy ninja, cheeks burning red. Though it’s undeniable how your heart beats quicker and smile warms up as he leaves, he’s always there to cheer you up and support you, he’s loyal okay? you have been there for him and now he’s going to follow you for the rest of your life, you feel like safety to him, a light in the dark, he trusts you with his life. he would never EVER left you behind (only if you asked him to, but duh why would you dummy), especially on missions, he will bring you back alive even if he has to sacrifice himself for it.

i know it’s obvious but PHYSICAL TOUCH!!!! it’s his way of communicating affection alright? hugging, ruffling your hair after training, THE UCHIHA POKE, you name it, he especially likes to put a arm around your shoulders and lean close to you, teasing you about whatsoever, whispering in your ear about the random guy on your right hitting on the lady next to him, chuckling and laughing to yourselves, you don’t even notice when he has a hand around you anymore because it just feels natural at this point, it gives him a excuse to be so close to you. Also looves to spend time with you, it’s kind of hard since the both are you are busy with missions but he would always use shunshin to see you, especially during breaks on the uchiha military police forces, asking you to have lunch with him, his treat! he’s a gentleman okay? Sometimes he would appear and gently put a kanzashi 簪 (hair ornaments used in traditional Japanese hairstyles) in your hair, saying it reminded him of the color of your eyes, he would always do that, giving you thoughtful gifts he would find along his missions, smiling at you as he says “i knew it would suit you” it means you look pretty in it.

His touch starts to linger more than necessary, appearing out of nowhere always with a warm hand on you. God he always runs so hot? maybe it’s because he’s a uchiha but his body temperature is high. Shuffling closer to him when you both go on a mission in the middle of winter, a teasing smile on his face as he asks “what was that?” a eyebrow raised in amusement, though he quickly chuckles and opens his arms, hugging you close, making jokes so you don’t feel awkward. He’s just so gentle and soft with you, stroking your hair as you both fall asleep. Always blushing if you reciprocate his barely hidden affections. He’s shy on these matters okay? i imagine him being just like minato but with the determination and sense of humor of naruto. so he can be all serious and in mission mode but if you pass him by and gives him a smile he’s all smiley and red cheeks, sheepishly expression on his face with a hand scratching the back of his head, snsksuzysowb cute. Sometimes he would look at Itachi and Sasuke interacting, imagining how it would be like if one day he ends up building a family with you, it’s one of his favorite daydreams jakajansja definitely a family guy. Yearning for the feeling of coming back home after a long mission and sink into your arms, sighing as he feels how soft, warm and alive you feel, he would do anything to keep you that way, even if he’s not the one you love, being able to be by your side is enough, at least that’s what he tells himself.

It would take a while for a confession tbh, he doesn’t want to lose you or ruin the friendship you both have, would probably talk about it with Itachi, sighing and telling him for the hundredth time if he should tell you or not. itachi’s already tired from this bullshit, staring at his cousin with a deadpan expression “i do believe it would be for the best if you finally told her how you feel” he would repeat, for the millionth time.

I doubt he would like or even look at somebody else in the same way he looks at you, he’s a uchiha and they feel deep, so when he falls, he falls hard, he’s a racional, loyal and busy guy, he wouldn’t even have time for romance outside of his barely there free time that he spends with you >:) so i really don’t think he’s the type to get with someone just because of their appearance or frivolous things like that, he needs the connection, heart, love and trust, so it takes time.

HE’S A JELLY GUY, not overly so, and would never seriously harm someone because of it, BUT HE IS he may not look like it, but if he sees a guy getting too close to comfort with you he’ll pop out of nowhere between you and the man, hugging you from the back and talking with the both of you, hands stroking your sides gently, or just pulling his arm around your shoulders, acting all friendly. You probably don’t even notice he’s actually jealous because he’s too smooth about it (and because you are trying to hide your blush from him).

By the way, you and itachi are friends! he’s a cute kiddo that follows shisui around, and he also has a little shadow following him (lil sasuke) it’s the cutest thing to see Shisui waving at you with a big grin on his face, eyes crinkling with happiness, a little shadow behind him, and a even more tiny figure following behind just like little ducks following their mother lolol.

Eventually shisui would have the guts to finally tell you how he feels, but only after a long while, probably when the whole uchiha fiasco ends (AND IT ENDS WITH EVERYBODY ALIVE) he would be so relieved and happy that his family and the village now are all safe and in peace that he would decide to finally take a step forward and be honest with you, he’d plan everything too, choosing your favorite place and all kinds of things that make you smile awww it would be perfect. You would blush, having at least a suspicion with the way he acts around you, not being able to contain your smile, putting your hands on his cheeks, gently caressing them, his ridiculously long eyelashes brushing against your thumbs as his eyes flutter at your touch, his own cheeks red. When you say “i love you” back, he would be so happy and excited he wouldn’t stop grinning, cheeks almost hurting from how happy he felt, taking you by the waist and spinning you around, the both of you laughing as he does so, just like when you were children, it feels like being home. Time seems to stop as you two gaze at each other, him staring at you with the softest eyes, carefully putting you down on the ground, running his fingers through your hair and saying one more time, “i love you” before his hand travels to your jaw, caressing and tracing the skin there, slowly inching his face closer until you feel his warm breath on your face, brushing his lips lightly against yours, leaving you breathless, fluttering your eyes close, he presses his lips harder against yours as you don’t pull away, sighing and pulling you impossibly close, one hand on your waist softly stroking your skin, the other on the back of your neck, playing with your hair as he finally gets to taste the lips of the girl he longed for all those years.

notes: oh wow that took much longer than i thought it would? what the hell i started to write this at night and now it’s MORNING ughhh i hope you guys like it, we need to keep the shisui simps people alive! happy new years for all of you!

reviews, likes and reblogs are much appreciated! thank you very much!

[baby-tini]

Heyyy!! Ily GURL 💗 I love your contents so much. It's a shame now requests are closed. But when requests will be open can you please answer this?

How'd all time line Mikey would react to their darling getting pregnant accidentally? What kind of father they might be?

My inbox isn't open yet, but I had this idea in my drafts for a while and my baby fever with Mikey is baddd. OG\Timeline- He wouldn't hate it but, he'd be pretty distant for a couple days, he would need time too come to terms with the news and how he feels about it. When he does come too terms with it though, he actually would be a pretty decent father, his only big problem is he'd be quite absent, because of his.. job. He'd take the next couple days, after you told him, too sit you down and talk about it, how you wanted everything too go, if you even wanted too keep it. Dating him obviously comes with dangers, for you, but even more so with a child involved. He'd let you know everything that could happen, with carrying his child but he'd leave it up to you on whether or not, you'd wanna keep it. He'd definitely step up and be a father, taking care of you and the child, protecting you both with his life. The child obviously can't have a normal childhood but this version of Mikey would do the best he can in order too make his child feel normal. Manila- He'd have a mixed reaction, he'd be pretty silent at first, maybe leaving the apartment for a couple days then he'd come back, feeling a little better after taking some time too process everything, he'd be pretty excited about having a kid. After loosing all his friends, by his own hands, he'd be pretty scared that he'd hurt his child but with a lot of reassurance, he would be a good dad. He'd do lot of the work as well, when you're tired, he'd change the baby, if the baby is taking formula or is bottle ready, he'd feed the baby as he held them, starring down into their little eyes as the baby grabs at him. He did start tearing up when the babies first words were dada, Mikey had the biggest, cockiest smirk on his face and he bragged about it for days on end. He would also absolutely teach his child martial arts, all the Mikey timelines would, but with Manila Mikey it'd be a fun little activity. Kanto- When you tell him you're pregnant, he'd just stare at you for a bit, his eyes dark and blank as he reads the pregnancy test over and over again. He really didn't want you too keep the baby at first but as your stomach grew and your pregnancy moved further along, he started too like the idea of having a child with you. This version of Mikey takes a while too become attached to the child, not wanting too build a bond with the baby, knowing something could go wrong or they might get hurt, but evidently when you find Mikey holding the sleeping baby in his arms, telling them that he'd protect the baby with his life at three in the morning, you know he loves his child even if he can be a little cold. He can't be super active in his babies life but he does always carry a picture of the baby on him. He does let the baby sit on his lap when he's in meetings, he dares someone too say something about it. To be honest, he surprisingly has the baby more then you do, scared that if the baby leaves his sight something bad will happen.

Bonten- He'd stare blankly before asking you too repeat yourself too make sure he heard you right the first time. When you do, multiple times at that, repeat yourself and show him the test, he goes quiet and just sits there, starring at your stomach. He's not very helpful through-out the pregnancy, being that, he is constantly busy so he'll have, mainly, Kakucho help you, getting you anything you, whenever you need it. All of the executives are made aware of your pregnancy and are told too do as you ask. They are also expected too protect you with their lives, meaning you're under security constantly, you don't really have much privacy, if any at all. Mikey expects constant update through-out the day, he doesn't care if it's meaningless, he wants too know about it. He will spend more time with you though but it takes a couple days for him too even hold the baby after they're born, scared that he'll drop them or hurt them. I will say however that your child is the safest human being in the world, there's constantly very armed security around you and the baby. That child will be so spoiled, anything they want, whenever they want, whatever they want. Street Racer- The best father out of all the Mikey timelines. He'd be very happy if you got pregnant, accidently or not. He is cannonly a very family-oriented person, so he'd be so happy too have his own little family. As soon as you tell him, he's calling everyone, all his friends, his family and he's so excited. As he's talking too Draken and telling him the wonderful new, he does start crying, he's so scared about what kind of father he''' be and that something could still go wrong in this timeline. Meaning that something could still happen to his family but when Draken explains that, while his worries are valid, Mikey would make an amazing father and that this timeline is safe and he has nothing too worry about. With the reassurance from his friends and family, but most importantly, you. He calms down a lot, this version of Mikey would be and is the most active in his child life. Going too all their school functions, their sports games, attending every graduation. He is literally the perfect father. Just a cute little HC of mine but I picture all Mikeys too be a girl dad, but I think it would be so fucking cute if Mikey had a son named Tanjiro (not because of demon slayer but because it's similar to Manjiro.) that looked exactly like him, the black eyes, the blonde hair and the love for Dorayaki. It would just be so cute, too have a little mini Mikey running around.

[yois2aki]

੭୧ chishiya with a reader with adhd... . ۫

chishiya shuntaro x gn!reader (requested)

— warnings: fluffy, reader and chishiya are in a relationship, beach arc, maybe ooc chishiya...

— summary: chishiya's incredibly high patience seems to be the perfect match for his super active partner <3

— word count: 1k

to put it simply, you were an outcast among other players at the beach.

people around you would either wonder how you were still alive, while others tried to actively befriend you so later you would suffice as bait on a specially harder game, from the way you acted so naive around others. you didn't take long to become aware of that, since you've never been in a hotel with so many ears.

thankfully, you had chishiya by your side. and while some concluded that you were only alive due to your boyfriend's aid, it seemed like his interest in you was elsewhere.

it was true that you could get easily distracted from the point of a game and almost cause a big disaster, but this also happened to be a quality for you.

you would pay most attention to stuff that others might consider useless in a moment of desperation, such as fighting for their lives; however, it wasn't unusual for that same stuff to define the difference between living and dying.

observing the littlest of details in a wicked place like the borderlands was a big advantage for you, and perhaps that was the reason you managed to survive all the time. unfortunately, most people didn't realize that, and you ended up just staying inside chishiya's shadow. not that you really cared; you preferred to stay in your own little world.

now, with chishiya's knowledge of the medical field, he resonated with your keen observations. it didn't take long for him to conclude that your hyperactivity didn't come from anything else other than a probable case of adhd. it was never declared between both of you whether you were diagnosed or not, but he didn't need a confirmation to know how to deal with your personality.

chishiya was a very calm person, if not the calmest you've ever met. his patience and your sensitivity worked well together. while he got to have a very smart partner, in their own ways, you got to have someone to listen to your ted talks and bring you back to the world when needed.

he isn't sure when and how he fell for you. that was something he didn't dwell a lot on, deciding to simply accept his feelings and be glad they were reciprocated.

but for some reason, he could not take his eyes off of your figure. for example, as you excitedly ran around a store you practically begged him to visit. it made it even better that you were both in the borderlands, which meant no one else was there but you both and an occasional sound of air hitting the windows.

"look, look! that's what i was telling you about earlier." you said excitedly, dropping whatever you were looking at before on the ground and practically running to the other side to look at the thing that caught your eye.

chishiya didn't even realize he had a small smirk on his face, bending over with a sigh to pick up the item you left and placing it back on the spot. he always hated messes, but he didn't feel the necessity to tell you that.

he walked towards wherever you went, hands inside his pockets, as he stared at you with practically stars in your eyes.

if he looked outside, he would notice the sun already starting to set, and since you were still stuck in the borderlands, soon everything would become dark due to the lack of electricity.

"we should get going soon; it's getting late." he decided to inform already. it wasn't going to be pitch dark until about 40 minutes, but he would rather tell you now so that you could process everything in your mind instead of when it's actually late.

"'shiya, look," you said more silently this time, already forgetting about what you were holding before and now pointing to a pile of books. "i love this series! we should take some home and read together."

"we should..." he replied with that calm voice of his, which was basically therapy for you.

by the time you both arrived back at the beach and in your shared room, it was already dead of night. you heard chishiya place the three shopping bags full of collectibles that interested you in a corner of the room.

he could tell you were tired by this time of the day, as the first thing you did was change into comfier clothes, lie down on the king-sized bed, and close your eyes for some moments without any energy to even have fun with your newly found collection.

chishiya admired you for a few moments. something about seeing you so serene made him feel better immediately, given that falling asleep was always trouble for you.

he soon changed as well, lying in bed beside you. chishiya was never one for physical contact, and you knew that. most nights you spent together were made just lying down next to each other, comforted by the fact that both were there.

however, you suddenly felt an arm envelop your waist, pulling you considerably closer to his body. you lied still for a few seconds until he spoke up. "is this okay?"

you felt like you should be the one asking, but since he was reaching out, you simply reciprocated his touch. nodding your head as you lied on his chest.

most nights were trouble for you, especially since the beach is a very noisy place that disturbs the rest of many. you were no different. during moments where it was specifically worse, you would toss and turn on the bed until chishiya eventually noticed and intervened by holding you close, since it seemed to always calm you down. it made you feel warm inside, knowing he was willing to bypass his boundaries for your comfort.

you were lucky to have someone patient and understanding like him in your life. and he wouldn't trade you for anything.

— a/n: waaa this was so cute.... i'm sorry if it's shorter than my past fics i feel like the fluffiness burned my brain out mmghhh (๑>◡<๑) i hope you guys enjoyed it... it's the first time i'm posting proper fluff here and i tried to focus on it a bit more rather than chishiya's constant teasing. i still think he's a menace tho !!!! sorry if this has any mistake btw... i could barely proofread it's late rn but i'll check in the morning <:

[lipringlrh]

him | CL16 & LN4

summary: you and charles have begun to form a relationship, but you can't help but call your ex whilst he sleeps.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader, lando norris x fem!reader

an: my first f1 fic!!! please like + reblog it means the world to me :) requests are open!!

word count: 2.1k

warnings: kind of cheating but no one’s officially together, everyone is a little shitty but probably reader most (depending on your point of view)

feedback appreciated!!!

…

“Why are you calling me again? Aren’t you with him?”

It was past midnight and you should’ve been asleep. But you weren’t, instead, you were on the phone with your ex-boyfriend whilst in bed with one of his friends.

Charles was asleep next to you, face down, with an arm thrown over your waist. He looked pretty: his face pressed against the pillow, overcome with a look of calm. Yet you still wished he was someone else.

“Hello?” His voice on the phone was rough, you knew he’d been asleep but you didn’t care. You knew he kept the sound turned on on his phone at night, waiting for your call.

“Lando,” It was the same conversation every night but you still never knew what to say.

“Miss me again? Where’s your new boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Lando, you know that.” It was complicated what you and Charles had; you weren't together but you acted like you were, engaging in couple-y activities. You weren't official; you weren't even exclusive. You both were allowed to see other people but you both said you preferred not to, or at least, that's what he thought.

“Doesn’t change anything though, you still wish he was me, don’t you?”

You didn’t answer him; you couldn’t. It felt like he knew your every thought so you didn't even need to reply.

“So is he still in your room?” Lando sighed. He hated these late night conversations and felt just as guilty as you did but he couldn't help but continue with them. He craved any communication with you, even if it was hurting himself and two people he loved in the process.

“He’s next to me," you whispered, ridden with guilt. You were disappointed in yourself more than anything, from both the situation and the fact that you were becoming more careless every night; Charles could wake up any second and realise you were whispering promises to one of his closest friends, but he never did.

“Next to you? You’re not even leaving the room to call me now?”

“Lando..”

“What’s going to happen when you get yourself caught, hmm?” He was teasing you now. He didn't care if you got caught anymore - of course he would feel guilty for a while but it meant he could have you to himself again, and that's all he wanted.

“He’s your friend too.”

There was silence after that. You both were in it as much as the other but it was much easier for Lando to forget.

“Come see me tomorrow, yeah?"

It was dangerous, seeing Lando in a public space where anyone could see, but his team had become good at hiding the usual occurrence. They knew to hide it from reporters and the public, any other teams and drivers, and especially Charles. And they didn't ask questions.

They saw you sneak off into his drivers room every race and whilst they speculated what went on, they made sure it never left the McLaren rumour circle.

And just like usual, you were with Lando pre-race in his drivers room. Everyone knew now, there was no questions on whether you should be let in because everyone just knew. You were with Lando, official or not, and he would not be happy with anyone if you weren't let in.

"So… you told me to come here, we're not just going to sit in silence, are we?"

"You would've come if I hadn't told you to. We end up here every race, todays no different."

"It feels like it is."

He was slightly taken aback, but he didn't let it show. "Maybe because you're careless?"

"Sorry?"

"At least leave the room when you call me. Not whilst your boyfriend is barely asleep next to you. I know you call me the second he's knocked out."

"He's not my boyfriend. How many-"

"So that makes this all better then, does it?"

"You're bothered about the situation now? Me and Charles aren't together, and we've said we can be with other people. What happened to your 'he got with my ex-girlfriend, it's no different' attitude."

"Because I feel bad."

Right before a race was not the time for this conversation, both you and Lando knew it, but it had been brewing for a while and there was no way of stopping it.

"I feel bad too Lando, this isn't my ideal situation either." You talked much softer now, it was a harsh topic that both of you tended to ignore when you were together.

"Then leave him."

"What?" You weren't shocked, you knew he would ask it one day but you always thought you'd be able to tell that he wasn't completely serious about it. But not one part of you was sure.

"Come back to me, please." He wanted to beg - he'd do whatever it takes.

"Lando, no."

"Lando, yes."

"Please, no Lando, I think there's a real chance I could love him and it work out."

He didn't know what to say - he didn't want to speak. He didn't want to compete with Charles in this instance, he wanted you and his vision of you both in the future as soon as you could. "So there's no chance of you loving me and it work out?"

"We didn't work out before for a reason, Lando, it'll happen again."

"We've made this work, we can make that work."

"This is built up of lies and deceit, what makes you think our relationship would be any different?"

"Because I love you and need you with me for the rest of my life. I will make it work one way or another," his voice broke, adding to the tears collecting in his eyes. They were red; swollen, and you so badly wanted to hold him until he let it all out but you couldn't. It hurt you physically to restrain yourself, but it was the right thing to do.

"I-"

You were cut off by a knock at the door and you couldn't tell if you were grateful or not. You both stood in silence, hoping the other would answer but no one did. The next round of knocks came and you decided to suck it up, saving Lando from the person outside hearing his voice on the verge of crying. "Is everything okay?"

Neither of you had broken eye contact. His eyes were red, about to burst and you just looked at him with sorrow. "Sorry to bother you but Charles is looking for you, he wants you really badly it seems. Pre-race talk or something, it doesn't look good."

Turns out, Charles did want you very badly. He'd been pacing back and forth for what felt like hours, stressing out about his upcoming race, and just needing a destresser. He had dragged you into a room, trying to calm down, varying talking from subject to subject. You didn't know how the subject had gotten to what it had, but you were frozen in shock, unsure of how to feel.

“I’m in love with you, chérie. I know we haven't put a label on anything yet, but I want to now. I just think that-" He rambled on, too passionate to notice the door opening and closing behind him, but you noticed it, "-and I think we could be perfect together, I just love you and I-"

You couldn't look at him, instead keeping your gaze focused on the man who had obviously been listening in to your conversation and wanted nothing more than to put an end to it. Charles couldn't help but notice your misfocus and finally noticed who was stood behind him the whole time.

"Lando- oh hey- you okay? Could you give us a minute?"

"I'm alright, I'll think I'll stay,"

"Lando.." you whispered. He hadn't taken his eyes off of you the entire time, even when replying to Charles; he wanted to take the time to read you and figure out what you were thinking. He didn't care about what Charles did and his feelings, only whether your felt them back.

"Yeah, sorry, I'll take a seat."

"You know?" Charles questioned, watching Lando pull up a seat at the opposite side of the room. He realised it was stupid question the second it slipped from his mouth; Lando kept up with everything you did, of course he knew.

"Of course I know. One of my most trusted friends trying to get with my ex-girlfriend whilst he knows I'm still in love with her. Yeah I know." He was disgusted with his friend and made it known. Yeah, he had done shitty stuff too but he would've been a lot more respectful if Charles didn't do it behind his back.

"Lando, maybe it's better-"

"No Charles, carry on professing your love to my girl."

"Lando, I'm not your-"

"No, can you please leave? You ruined your chance, it's my turn. It's not fair you get another chance." Charles couldn't believe Lando's attitude and Lando couldn't believe Charles' audacity. You, well, you just couldn't believe it was happening and happening like this.

"She was my girlfriend. You were my friend and went behind my back to get her to fall for you, it's only fair I can do the same. And don't get me started on you." He looked at you, with both stars and disappointment in his eyes.

"Leave her out of this."

"Do you want to tell him, sweetheart, or should I?" Lando was teasing you now; playing your game. He wanted the upper hand on Charles and was using the truth to prove he had it all along.

"I've still been talking to Lando, whilst we've been together and-"

"Calling me whilst you've been asleep mostly-"

"And occasionally meeting up with him."

Lando kept his eyes trained on you, not breaking eye contact even when Charles was looking between you both in a frenzy.

"Oh,"

"Charles-"

"No, I get it. We agreed we could see other people, I just didn't realise you were." He sounded broken; he was broken. He felt so stupid that he didn't realise. His eyes were welling up but he desperately tried to hide it. He'd thought about the fact there was a chance you were still hung up on your ex previously, but he pushed it to the back of his mind, telling himself he was just overthinking.

Your head was in your hands as you contemplated sliding down the wall and curling into your knees. The whole situation was a mistake - you didn't know what you wanted and it was all your fault. It was bound to come out sooner than later, you were planning to tell Charles what was happening, before it was all too late, but it came out in the worst way possible. Karma, you guessed.

"We weren't together, chérie, you were allowed to do that, it just hurts a little. We could be okay though, no?" He sounded so hollow - technically what you did didn't break any rules but it was morally bad and deceitful and you couldn't help but feel endlessly guilty.

"No but it's wrong- so wrong. And I've lied and hurt you- both of you."

"If anything, I'm as bad as you, I tried to get you back behind Charles' back," Lando spoke quietly, almost as though he didn't want to say it. He was moving closer each moment, until he eventually was stood by Charles in front of you.

"And I went behind Lando's back to get you in the first place." Charles mumbled in the same guilty tone. Charles knew they'd all wronged at least one other, some much worse than others, but he be damned if he let you feel all the blame.

"That was pretty shitty,"

"Not as shitty as you going-"

"Stop it please, We've all done really, really shitty things. I just need a minute," You still hadn't moved from being slumped against the wall, feeling as though it was the least confrontational position.

Both men were staring down at you, not moving either. You had two men, head over heels in love with you, a scene you thought would be from your dreams, but instead you were almost a crying mess.

"Then you can pick." Lando whispered before nodding at Charles, in both reassurance and competition. He wanted you okay but he also wanted you to himself and he wasn't a patient man, "You obviously love one of us. Which is it?"

f1 masterlist | requests are open + feedback is appreciated