#!candid thirsts

[candidapple]

all beastfolk are hard-wired to have a breeding kink and it just depends on how well they can ignore it. leona fucking hates kids so he's usually pretty good at avoiding his urges. ruggie knows how expensive babies are and that's like a cold shower. jack has a stable and happy family and as a result he's DYING to get married and start making an adorable lil' pack of cubs as soon as he falls for you. man's pullout game is nonexistent when he's in love, good luck reader!

cw knotting, breeding kink. minors dni 🔞

jack howl x afab!reader

my, why big eyes, ears, and teeth he has, right? but those aren't the only parts of him that aren't quite... human. jack's pullout game isn't just nonexistent; once he knots you, he couldn't pull out right away even if he wanted to.

(he really doesn't want to.)

jack's hesitant at first. you're not beastkin, you're human, and your body wasn't built to take a cock like his. not all of it, anyway, and he'd never forgive himself if he hurt you or tore you -- especially during sex, which is supposed to be a way of showing how much you two love each other.

and fuck, does he love you. he loves you so much he could stay like this forever, fucking you slow and steady but just hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs with each strong forward thrust of his sweat-slick hips. he's careful not to go all the way in, though. sometimes he even wraps a hand around his base to keep from slipping in those few extra inches and accidentally tying you down on his dick.

and at first, you don't really object. jack's already intimidatingly big in every respect, long and thick with a wide spongy head and an even broader base. the first time he fucked you, he ate you out for hours before he let his dick anywhere near you, making damn sure you were wet and loose enough to take him. but after a few instances of getting your brains lovingly fucked out, your curiosity begins to grow until it becomes a sense of hungry longing gnawing at the pit of your stomach. you feel his swollen knot bumping your tender entrance and start to wonder what it'd feel like if he put it inside you. wondering soon becomes a want and want becomes need.

the thing about jack, though, is that he's very bad at saying no to you -- doubly so when it's something he also wants but doesn't think he should have. so it doesn't take much in the way of begging and pleading and soft damp kisses pressed to his panting mouth to convince him to test your body's ability to take him. he growls under his breath, in frustration or surrender, and the next thing you know you're being flipped onto your front, a pillow stuffed under your belly to support your raised hips. and then he's pressing in and in and in, and you can feel it, you can feel his knot swelling inside you, stretching you so wide it feels like it's blocking off your throat so you can hardly breathe.

but you take it, somehow, because you're so good, aren't you? you're always so damn good for him, sweet thing. he mutters gruff praise in your ear and licks the sweat from your shoulder, nipping you with sharp teeth that only ever tickle you without breaking the skin. he's grinding that fat knot inside you as it catches and keeps you locked down on his dick, which is still thrusting shallowly through your tight sleeve of wet muscle, and you've already come two times now but somehow you are seizing up and coming again. you bite a pillow and cry into the cotton, feeling like your guts are being squeezed out to make room for jack's knot.

and when he finally comes, he keeps coming, thick, viscous warmth flooding your insides, more and more of it stuffing you full till it starts to drip back down your thighs to make a mess on jack's bed. he doesn't seem to mind, though, not at all. he just sets his teeth against your shoulder and growls so softly it sounds like a purr, pressing you flat against the mattress and sheltering you with the breadth of his body. yeah, you're so good for him, aren't you? taking his knot so well, letting him fuck you full of cum. he'd keep you like this forever if he could, stuck on his dick and just begging him for more. you shiver and press back against him and resign yourself (yeah, right, resign, like it's such a trial) to being there for a while.

you have to walk through savanaclaw's lounge to get to the mirror the next morning, jack at your side because he never lets you walk home alone. his hand is at the small of your back, ears perked, tail wagging gently. his happiness reflects yours, making you glow with content warmth. leona takes one look at how sickeningly twitterpated the two of you are and announces loudly that you smell like a wet dog in rut. ruggie just sighs and puts back his ears and thanks his lucky stars he's not responsible for washing jack's sheets, at least.

(are they a little bit jealous? probably. but they'll never tell.)

#jack howl x reader #twst x reader #!candid thirsts

[koipepo]

My petty ass when somebody said that everybody in spiderverse fandom is horny for Migu3l: you're not talking for me

#miguel is.... fine. but i was surprised at how meh he feels for me as a standalone character #sure its hot as shit when he brutalized miles like that. unstable morality is always good but #nothing about him made my neuron shot off. #im just here for miles getting topped by everybody man and miguel is an okay candidate for that #i might be a little annoyed that everywhere i got shoved miguel thirst contents or spiderd@ds which is a big notp for me #i never interact with migu's centric posts but they keep popping in my feed anyway 😭 #i want MILES.

[comradedanipedrosa]

everyone look away. Okay, lewis’ thirst traps are the CRINGEIST thing ever

#I am physically incapable of finding him hit when he’s TRYING #no! candid thirst traps >>>> #atleast look away from the camera babe #*hot

[die-lerche]

i'm not the one judging people for who they love, but some people's choice of a spouse in stardew valley is... not understandable for me lol.

#nadenka talks #i have maru as a wife in one save and penny in the other #people seems to hate penny a lot but idk for me she is a perfect wife #she actually wants to have a family! #the best! #also she has a job #i like adult people with jobs! #if i'd start a new save i'd go for either harvey emily or leah #maybe elliot he's okay #sebastian also has a job but he's too teenage coded for me #don't even let me start on abigail lol #i still forget sam and alex are two different people #haley and shane? just boring pass #it's a shame all the marriage candidates are so young tho #like have you seen gus??? #anyways... #no hate to anyone's choice etc etc #i just see A LOT of posts thirsting for some of those guys and i just... Don't Get It

[emmaspolaroid]

crying a little while trying to organize my office so it’s less overstimulating

#I need another table or like a dresser why do I have so much shit #Nikki use all your art supplies challenge!!! #I see y’all posting Sonju thirst traps I don’t need these unholy thoughts #I … am very much entertaining these thoughts #I think I just felt a cramp #god I’d rather be pregnant #No I wouldn’t lmao who said that #what happened to the mom candidates at GF HQ who had fertility struggles :( #if I think too hard ab it I get really depressed ngl

[glass-of-drew]

if you thought thirst-following was bad, wait till you hear about thirst-donating and thirst-organizing

#i can’t believe it #but there’s this guy #and he’s trying to get people to donate to a political candidate #in a state he doesn’t live in #the candidate is cool and seems to have good politics #but like bffr #to me it smells like it’s motivated by thirst

[anantaru]

cw. tit play, fem! reader, first time seeing you naked, flustered zhongli & a little pervy zhongli

zhongli has never seen you naked before, and although your relationship was still new and in its early stages, his thoughts had already drifted into the imagination of how otherworldly beautiful you must look underneath those clothes— ugh, he just couldn't help himself.

and it's so embarrassing when you first show him your tits all intimate and exposed as you moved smoothly around the skin, his golden eyes following your every move as you proudly cup the mounds in your palms while squeezing them for him, putting on a sensual show, enjoying to watch how his thick bulge was growing just at the sight of you.

he hums deep into his chest before exhaling through his nose, and nothing was in between you besides a breeze of air rising and falling with zhongli feeling a bit lightheaded and dazed by your bare body— thinking back about all those times where he had touched himself at the thought of this.

you see it hidden in the sparkling glimmer of his eyes that your boyfriend was just strong enough to resist burying his face in your chest, and you furthermore lean into him before taking a seat on his lap— your hands sliding from your breasts to come up and cradle his blushing face, signalizing your deep lust for him because it just wasn't enough anymore.

at the sight of this, zhongli knows now that he would do everything right when it comes to pleasuring you, he'd make it his duty to fuck you how you deserved— make his length brand your searing spots with his aching veins, waiting until your pussy remembers the shape of him as your walls introduce his shaft to your addicting trace— your cunt constricting and clenching down on him softly, sweetly and like you never want him to leave again.

over and over until you're squirming for mercy.

the way zhongli knows you would sound so sweet as well, those concealed noises simmering below the surface, dripping like candid molasses on his tongue, his mind wandering through his wild imaginations before your voice draws his attention right back to you.

"do you want to touch them?" you ask with a slight wink, your tits bouncing as you go back to squeeze them roughly, "if you let me," he pants back, answering a little too fast to his own liking.

but you really do not have to tell him twice.

zhongli clenches his jaw as he swallows the budding saliva on his tongue— and it's creating a new spark of tension when you let go of your breasts before he places his palms on top of them, starting off slow between kneading and squeezing the flesh and enticing you with the promise of more.

you slant into his touch to relax and are so close to him now, so close that you could feel the heat of his body rattle through your skin as zhongli pinches and twists one nipple before leaning his head forward to take one in his mouth.

well, it's sudden, and you didn't expect him to use his tongue right away, but you knew that he was yearning for this, you could evidently witness the hunger in his eyes, and you whine out through a strangled sound, instantly losing yourself in the hot sensation of his mouth as he hollows his cheeks to suckle on the flesh.

an unquenchable thirst simmers through your desiring touches as you arch your back into him, your toes curling as you look at the mess on your chest coaxing out a shiver from your body— copious amounts of saliva oozing through the splits of his mouth and curving over your frame.

it's all so messy and filthy that it makes you drool at the sight, squeezing your thighs again and again as your sobs and wails grow louder, needier and more desperate before you suddenly press his head into your chest, your stomach fluttering from being stimulated so fucking dearly.

you're done for, in fact, you both are, and you wonder how long this will go before zhongli notices the heavy outline of his bulge on his slacks, because it certainly must hurt him by now— having to deal with those tight pants making it quite difficult for his shaft to twitch and ache in his boxers.

but if you're being honest, you're a little proud of turning him into this.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin Impact smut #zhongli x reader #zhongli smut

[kyuuppi]

Genshin men Instagram HCs

Ft. Xiao; Scaramouche; Zhongli; Childe; Alhaitham; Kaveh; Tighnari

(gender neutral reader but wears a dress in Scara & Zhongli's parts)

Xiao // @ a1atus

★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★

Very rarely posts

Never pictures of himself, you’ll only see his face in tagged photos

If he does post, it’s probably a new album cover of a band he likes, a particularly good plate of almond tofu from his favorite café, or—if he’s in a particularly good mood—a cute stray cat that befriended him on the street

Never edits anything but still takes pretty decent photos because he understands basic composition rules

Never tags anything but will sometimes write simple captions like “new guitar”

His pfp has not changed since he made his account and its literally just the blandest selfie you’ve ever seen—but he’s effortlessly photogenic so even when he’s just staring at the camera with a blank expression he looks hot

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

Xiao will unintentionally do his loyal boyfriend duties and like all of your posts but he never actually leaves a comment unless you specifically ask him to but you have to tell him what to say or else you’ll just get something like “your hair is nice” LOL

Maybe makes one post related to you but it doesn’t have your face—just picture of your hands holding each other or a photo he secretly took of you from behind as you admire some paintings from when he took you on an art gallery date

Still doesn’t write much in captions but if the post includes you, he always adds a little black heart emoji 🖤

Scaramouche // @ balladeer

★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★

Vehemently claims he’s not chronically online but he definitely is

Def has a dark / emo aesthetic profile and puts more effort into it than he’d ever admit

Uses stories pretty frequently

Usually to show off his game stats and victories or to vent about some annoying inconvenience that's just happened to him 

balladeer Jfc the train is late again I may as well just walk home everyday ffs

All his late night gaming photos are so highly saturated in his pitch black bedroom, the only source of light being his screen on max brightness and his violet RGB keyboard. If you raise the screen brightness on your phone you might be able to make out some empty Monster cans and ramen cups on his desk—he absolutely gives Discord / Reddit mod vibes 🤢

Definitely has a story archive just for Valorant 🤮

I wanna fuck him so bad it makes me look stupid—

Posts a few selfies to show a new piercing or the very rare occasion where he’s feeling really confident in his looks

unintentionally thirst traps the emo boy lovers; yes, I am talking about you and I—

Lightly edits photos or uses filters to make them look good but nothing extreme or super aesthetic, mostly just for decent contrast

Usually the first one to see any of his friends posts but never ‘likes’ them

Will leave snarky or sarcastic comments when the mood strikes tho

His pfp is a candid picture someone else took that he thinks he looks decent in—sticking his tongue out and giving double middle fingers to the camera

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

Makes a post or story for every date you guys have, even if it’s just a vague picture of your shoes together

He likes to show off that he has such an attractive s/o but also lowkey just wants to have a memory to look back on for the nights he feels lonely

Doesn’t post just you though, he’s always in frame holding you or touching you in some way—he feels the need to put some sort of claim cause he thinks people are gonna shoot their shot with you—he’s kinda paranoid and insecure, pls have patience w him

Likes and comments on all of your posts. Sometimes it's a snarky quip like if you post about you and your friends doing something funny he might comment “lmao ur so dumb” but if its a selfie or something you’re proud of, he leaves a little compliment and heart emoji.

YN0103 [bedroom mirror selfie of you shyly posing in a dress]

YN0103  Bought a new dress today…it’s not my usual style but I rlly like it 🥺

balladeer cute 💜

If anyone ever confronts him in person about his nice comments on your posts tho he’ll get flustered and claim his account was temporarily hacked LOL

His heart def flutters when you post a picture of him on your own account

He kinda can’t believe you’re proud enough of him to publicly post about him

Changes his pfp to the two of you together and, if you zoom in and squint, you can tell he’s kind of smiling <3

Zhongli // @ rex_lapis

★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★

I’m sorry but I have to do it…

He has Facebook grandpa vibes

Like he has no idea how to use half of the features; stories are an absolute mystery to him. What is a reel?

But he tries to be supportive of his friends and will leave way-too eloquent comments with a Wikipedia levels of supplemental information

a1atus [ photo of a shiny Fender acoustic guitar laying on what seems to be a bed]

a1atus new guitar

rex_lapis Lovely new instrument, Xiao. You seem to have quite good tastes – that particular model is popular among many professional musicians. It is well renowned for its clear sound and beautiful mahogany exterior. If you wouldn’t mind, I would love to hear you play it someday over tea.

a1atus @ rex_lapis thanks

the way I cackled writing that exchange ygweyufgwyu Xiaos just like ‘thanks for commenting dad���

His pfp is not him—it’s probably a famous painting he likes or a beautiful white flower from a garden he visited

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

If you want him to improve his Insta game, you’re going to have to teach him, I’m sorry

On the up side, Zhongli is a great student and is eager to learn anything you teach him

Will try to post pretty regularly; usually somewhat mediocre photos of beautiful scenery like sunsets and flowers

Like Scaramouche, he enjoys the idea of documentary your time together so he posts something at the end of each of your dates

Your heart lowkey melts when Zhongli, very earnestly, asks after dinner if you’ll allow him to take a selfie with you to post on his Instagram

Regularly asks for feedback on his posts to ensure he’s properly taking your advice and improving :,)

He even starts organizing and naming story archives on his profile—simple titles like “tea,” “nature,” “friends,” and “my dearest”

Likes and comments on every single one of your posts and replies to all of your stories, even if he was there with you

Usually just lathers you in compliments on your beauty or tastes but they’re so thoughtfully written that it’s obvious he’s not “just saying it” and genuinely believes all the kind things about you he writes

YN1231 [photo of you twirling in a summer dress amidst a colorful of bed of flowers in a botanical garden, take by your friend]

YN1231 It’s finally starting to feel like spring! 🌸🌼🌺

rex_lapis While the camelias are lovely, they pale in comparison to your radiance. Your yellow sundress is also quite lovely and compliments your complexion in the morning sunlight. Truly a divine sight. 

balladeer @ YN1231 @ rex_lapis ugh can you guys keep it in the DMs

- Changes his pfp to a selfie of himself smiling after you told him he should. The angle is a little odd but he’s so naturally attractive that he still manages to look good. 

Ajax // @ tartaglia_on_top 

★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★

Doesn’t post too often but when he does, it kinda gives stereotypical frat boy

Like, lots of parties and shirtless beach photos with his friends

The surprise is the occasional posts of his little siblings and kids he volunteers with in between

He sometimes posts championship and practice photos from his martial arts competitions with captions thanking his team and mentors

Is pretty popular—has a few thousand followers, many are people he met just once or twice at parties or genuine friends and classmates, but the vast majority are online fans who just follow cause he’s hot LOL

Is the type of person you followed once after meeting a long time ago and never talk to again but you can’t bring yourself to unfollow cause he’s nice and his updates are kinda interesting and he’s hot

Isn’t online that much so he doesn’t like/comment on his friends’ every post but usually tries to leave congratulatory messages when someone accomplishes something or graduates

His pfp is a closeup of himself with a boyish grin he cropped from a group photo

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

It is super obvious when you guys start dating cause almost every post from that point is about you in some way LOL

tartaglia_on_top [photo of Ajax, sweaty and exhausted but clearly excited as he holds a trophy in one hand with the other wrapped around your waist while he presses a kiss to your cheek]

tartaglia_on_top Officially a 3 year championship winner! Thanks to my biggest supporter @ YN0720 😘

He’s not even consciously trying to post you all the time, it just happens because you are either always together or any memorable moment he thinks are worth an Insta post involve you in some way

You’re the only person, aside from his family - that he actually likes/comments on all posts for

Is the type of boyfriend to leave those super dramatic, embarrassing comments on your selfies like “DAAAMN BABE 🥵 finna make me act UP” and, in one particularly shameless case, “god youre so hot pls step on me queen 😍” 

Please block him

He shamelessly liked all your past posts from before you too met as well—you were kinda mortified to wake up one morning to a notification that just said “what a lil cutie ❤️” on a post of yourself from seventh grade. 

Changes his pfp to a couple selfie he took of the two of you kissing on a winter vacation in the mountains

Kaveh // @ kaveh.designs

★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★

Obsessed with having an aesthetic profile

Like, the color palette of the background and clothing in his pfp selfie are carefully matched with the cover of each of his story archives, down to the hex code

He carefully edits every post and uses filters to make them all fit with his theme no matter how inaccurate to real life they may become

“Huh…I thought your bedroom wall was a bit more orange than this…” 

“Oh, that’s cause I use 30% Juno in all my bedroom photos for a warmer finish.”

“???”

Despite his aesthetic profile, he doesn’t come off as particularly vain or narcissistic—only posts selfies when he’s has a particularly good hair day or changed his accessories

Most of his posts are of places he travels to (museums and big cities with interesting architecture) or his own sketches and rendered design projects

Online pretty frequently, always checks insta when he wakes up, before bed, and during lunch breaks

His stories are often project updates, interesting things he encounters throughout the day, or food photos

Only likes posts he actually likes and sometimes comments with photography critiques

tighnar1 [photo of a cluster of three bright blue mushrooms clustered against vibrant green grass and patches of dark, wet soil]

tighnar1 Proof the forest is an amazing place: found this beautiful little cluster of juvenile Rakkhashava mushrooms on my hike today. Great spotting by @ colleeei. Check my story for some cool mushroom facts. 🍄

kaveh.designs great photo composition, Tigh, perfect golden ratio on the caps.

tighnar1 @ kaveh.designs Thanks I guess…

Has a decent number of followers, many of whom are also artists familiar with Kaveh’s reputation from the Kshahrewar. Others just like his OOTD stories and charming smile

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

Kaveh revamps his entire profile once you two become official

His pfp becomes a candid taken by a stranger of the two of you together at an aquarium, holding hands as you point something out to him through the glass

It was taken by a photographer working at the aquarium as part of a promotion—the photographer showed you two the photo and asked for permission to post it on their official website and Kaveh was absolutely obsessed with the photo—it’s still one of his favorite and it doesn’t even show your faces

He still matches his archived story covers to his new pfp but his actual feed had become a lot more relaxed and natural now

He still slightly edits photos so they look as good as possible, but he doesn’t like using filters on photos of you or the two of you together because he thinks it would be a disservice to your natural beauty

Like Ajax, his posts and stories naturally become mostly about you whether scenes from your dates—candid photos he takes of you where he insists you look like art even though you’re just in pajamas with an unmade face—or even photos of things he sees throughout the day that remind him of you

Sometimes he posts stories of funny reels or art pieces he knows you’d like and tags you in them with messages like “@YN0709 omg remember when we were talking abt this?” and “me & @ YN0709💕”

Similar to Childe, leaves the most downbad, dramatic comments on your posts

YN0709 [swimsuit selfie]

YN0709 happy summer! ☀️🌊

kaveh.designs Oh my god my heart– 💘 I cannot believe I get to come home to this every night 👅💦

YN0709 @ kaveh.designs omg kaveh pls 💀

al_haitham @ kaveh.designs Every time I see one of your comments I regret ever learning how to read.

Alhaitham // @ al_haitham  

★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★

Only made an account so his friends would stop bothering him about not keeping up with things tbh

Checks his feed a few times a day but skips through stories if they’re too long/too many

Absolutely hates concert stories the most cause they’d loud, long, and filled with off-key drunken singing

Never likes or comments on anything unless it’s really interesting to him

Occasionally shares reels in his story that are like interesting history facts or official Akademiya announcements

Has a few posts (and only cause Kaveh would not shut up about it) but they’re mostly just pictures of book covers he’d just finished reading with a detailed review or literary analysis as the caption—but he’s mindful of avoiding spoilers for those who haven’t read it

However, he does have one post that stands out quite a bit

He posted an unintentional gym third trap because he just happened to be working out, as is routine, and thought it might be nice to share some tips on proper rope pushdown form 

If you’re not a gym babe and don’t know what this is, I beg of you, please look up a gif or video and imagine Alhaitham doing this, shirtless. You’re welcome.

It has become his most popular post by far

His pfp is probably taken straight from his faculty ID card: plain background, bright lighting, neutral facial expression

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

After you two have become official and are pretty comfortably established in your relationship, he’ll post a photo of the two of you—probably one you took - with a simple caption like “Late night at Puspa Café with my favorite person 💚”

Everyone who knows him freaks out in the comments with variations of “omg hathie got an s/o???” and “wow he finally posted a normal pic of himself, y/n is a good influence” but he doesn’t reply to any of them lmao

If you use Instagram a lot, he’ll naturally become more active too because he enjoys learning more about what you like through your posts and stories

He likes all of your posts but never comments—if one of your posts interests him, he’d prefer to wait until he sees you later to ask you about it in person 

He just wants an excuse to talk to you more

As he becomes more active, little bits and pieces of your relationship naturally infiltrate his feed

His latest book review post has your favorite mug in the background because the two of you had breakfast together

His informational story post of an antique Sumerian emerald he found at a street vendor is being modeled by your pretty hands because you were with him when he saw it and later given to you after the vendor insisted on Alhaitham gifting it to his “beautiful spouse”

He changes his profile picture to the two of you from one of your many reading dates, comfortably lounging on a loveseat in a quiet corner of the library—and this time, he’s softly smiling

Tighnari // @ t1ghnar1

Surprisingly active on social media

He thinks social media is a great way to share information about the importance of forest conservation and get people to appreciate the beauty of Avidya forest

Makes one post almost every day and multiple stories

Needless to say, 90% of his posts are of plants or small animals he finds on his hikes or while working

His most popular posts are those of cute squirrels and birds that are being nursed back to health after being found wounded—animals just seem to naturally love him so the pictures are usually taken by his coworkers because his arms are full with cuddly animals that refuse to move

The other 10% of his posts are from the occasional hang outs with friends or coworkers after work—snaps of iced fruit teas from Puspa café or colorful clay plates overflowing with Collei’s homemade pita pockets. 

He makes sure to reply to or at least like every comment, particularly those from people asking questions about the plants he posts or how to become a forest ranger. Even simple “wow that's so cool” comments often get at least a “thanks, glad you liked it” from Tighnari

He tends to use some cute forest or food emoji when they fit with his posts. For example, 🍄,🥙,🦊,🐦, etc.

Also tends to use “:)” when replying to his followers because he knows it can be difficult to read tone in text-based communications

Tigh is basically a social media manager at this point oops

Because he is online so much, he naturally keeps up with almost everything his friends post and will like or comment on things he finds interesting

His pfp is a selfie of himself with a small yellow bird perched on his shoulder from one of his patrols

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

All Tighnaris written by me WILL follow the “fennec foxes mate for life” trope regardless of AU, it is an indisputable law of the universe

If you’re in a relationship with Tighnari, you should be prepared for stability and commitment in general

While he doesn’t go out of his way to make an official announcement post or anything like that, you become a regular feature on his page

Will tag you in anything you’re related to, unless you specifically ask him not to

t1ghnar1 [photo of a small, cream-colored fox brushing itself against Tighnari’s leg and looking up at the camera with large eyes]

t1ghnar1 On a walk with @ YN1229 this morning we spotted this cute little kit without her mom. 🦊 While adorable, foxes - even kits - are wild animals and should never be approached unless by professionals. We have informed the local animal control where she will be taken care of until we can locate her family. Photo by @ YN1229

He never outright announces you as his lover but he seems to spend so much time with you and refer to you so casually that his followers who don’t know him just assume you’re his spouse LOL

He doesn’t bother to correct them either :,)

bennie_boy Wow, that mountain is so high up - wasn’t ur spouse scared to go up there?

t1ghnar1 @ bennie_boy Y/n has been on so many trips like this with me that they’re pretty used to it. :)

Likes your posts as he see them on his feed and occasionally leaves a short comment like, “beautiful <3”

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagine #genshin scenario #genshin hcs #tighnari x reader #scaramouch x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #xiao x reader #childe x reader #ajax x reader #tartaglia x reader #kaveh x reader #alhaitham x reader #zhongli x reader #sm au #genshin sm au

[nyaagolor]

Thinking abt Ace Attorney Social media HCs

Phoenix: Technologically illiterate, doesn’t really know what social media is or how to use it and refuses to learn because the longer he keeps up the bit the funnier it gets

Edgeworth: Doesn’t particularly care for social media, but found out about tumblr through Maya and now has an anonymous Steel Samurai account. His tagging system is meticulous and he has all notifications turned off. He treats it like he does office work. He and Maya are mutuals. Doesn’t have a personal account to speak of

Maya: Runs a semi-popular canon url pink princess and steel samurai fan tumblr. Also has a personal Instagram that’s mostly her eating burgers

Pearl: Didn’t have social media for a long time because of Morgan, but Maya introduced her and she has a very inactive private Instagram. She’s also in charge of the Kurain Village socials, which are very neat and professional

Mia: Was technologically illiterate and died before the social media boom was completely inescapable so nada

Diego: Socials weren’t as big before he fell into a coma and afterwards he doesn’t care too much about his image so he has nothing. HOWEVER, Maya started a twitter called “dead philosopher wisdom” that’s just random Diegoisms. He’s doing NUMBERS on there but is unaware of it because he doesn’t use twitter

Franziska: Knows how social media works because she needs it for her job but doesn’t use it very often. Her account has like 2 posts on it and she mostly uses it to keep track of targets and online paper trails

Kay: Runs an instagram account called “Edgeworth where he shouldn’t be” that’s nothing but silly and embarrassing candids of Edgeworth. Oldbag won’t stop messaging her asking who she is and how she’s getting these pictures

Apollo: Has a twitter with two followers that he uses to retweet and comment on legal academia news. He’s super active on all the law forums and legal advice columns and unfortunately has definitely posted on r/AskALawyer on mutliple occasions. His real claim to fame, though, is the anonymous Instagram he runs for his cat Mikeko. It’s called “The Pawsecutor’s Office” and he dresses up Mikeko like all the prosecutors (Miles Edgepurrth, Clawvier Gavin, Franziska Von Catma, etc) for photoshoots and silly skits. It’s wildly popular and Apollo would die if he were revealed to be behind it

Klavier: Super popular across all platforms and loves being silly online. If Edgeworth saw all the thirst traps he was posting he would prolly have a heart attack

Kristoph: Has a very minimal personal account for professional reasons but his REAL online footprint is the dozens of alternate accounts he uses to cyberstalk people and send his brother hate mail

Athena: Perfectly normal social media user. Has personal accounts that she posts to occasionally with cute photos of what she’s doing. The only person using it correctly

Trucy: Insanely popular on socials for her magic act. Knows how to market herself online better than anyone. She has a smaller personal account where she occasionally posts silly things about the WAA

Blackquill: Ran an edgy anime Tumblr for years before his incarceration and was posting on AO3 a lot. He comes back after his release explaining the break between chapters of his latest fanfiction was due to him being put on death row for seven years and continues posting normally with no mention of his prison sentence ever again. When he finally posts another AMV it’s a joyous day indeed

#ace attorney #Phoenix Wright #miles Edgeworth #Maya fey #Mia fey #Diego Armando #Pearl fey #Franziska Von karma #Kay faraday #Apollo justice #Klavier Gavin #kristoph gavin #Trucy Wright #Athena cakes #Simon blackquill #headcanons #mod vex

[candidapple]

I’m just at camp to get railed by Floyd in his mer form. On another note am I the only one who thinks it’s kinda hot when he pulls his scary face?

cw monsterfucking, adult content. minors dni 🔞

floyd leech x gn!reader

you are absolutely not alone, anon. his pupils shrink and his fist clenches and i get on all fours and bark. same goes for that one deranged smile of jade's whenever his genteel mask slips far enough to flash sharp teeth. scary eels hot.

now, floyd's well aware of just how attracted you are to his true form -- and this delights him to no end, because most humans find him frightening (well... more so than usual) when he's like that. even so, it's going to take some serious cajoling on his part to get you into that lake for a slippery good time, for several reasons.

for starters, it's broad daylight and you're in public, and while you might get an exhibitionistic little thrill out of the possibility of getting caught in the act, it's not something you actually want to happen. god knows you'd never be able to look any of your classmates in the eye again. your other concern is that the lake is... a natural lake. who the hell knows what's in it? and i'm not even talking giant catfish. it's just unsanitary.

so, yeah. floyd's got his work cut out for him convincing you to take part in some aquatic playtime, though he's got a bit of a (proverbial) leg up because, as i've already pointed out, he knows you're a total slut for him when he's like this. (alright, you're a total slut for him pretty much always, but especially when he's in his real body.) and because floyd can be terrifyingly adept at getting what he wants when he's actually motivated, you are at a serious disadvantage.

he's already gotten you as far as the lake's damp, loamy bank, smiling beatifically up at you with half-lidded, almost hypnotic eyes that make you understand all too well how the sailors in the stories were so easily coaxed to their fully embraced doom. his long tail skims lazily through the murky water as he wraps both arms around your legs and hugs you just short of bruisingly tight, his skin cool and viscous against yours because you rolled your pants up to your knees to dip your feet in the lake. he rests his cheek in your lap and whispers to you, claws skimming the backs of your calves, his voice soft and persuasive and punctuated by hungry, serpentine hisses.

why not come for a swim with him? just for a little bit. he's the biggest, scariest thing in this lake, and he won't let the small fry hurt you. he'd gut anything that tried and feed it to you after. c'mon, shrimpy. he wants to feel you sssqueezing him from the inside and he doesn't wanna wait till later.

and you... well, you are persuaded to forget all about scummy lake water and peeping toms, at least for the time it takes floyd to drag you gasping and flailing into the lake, laughing gleefully with every last one of his serrated teeth on gleaming display -- yes, even the second set of teeth in his pharyngeal jaw. his skin's so slippery you have to dig your nails in deep, deep as you clutch at his shoulders, and even then you might have fallen right off his dick if he hadn't wrapped his tail securely around your waist to keep you right where you are. right where you belong, getting your shrimpy little brains fucked out in the middle of his element.

and while we're talking dick, floyd's is always good -- proportional to the rest of him, which means big, with a slit that just waterfalls oddly opalescent precum and a curve that hits just right when he pushes your knees level with your shoulders and all but drills you through whatever flat surface he's laid you out on. but in this form? it's even better, flushed a pretty green and textured in a way human dicks just aren't, slippery as hell thanks to the slime that secretes from his skin, smoothing the way for the teeth-rattling thrust of him. the water's splashing so violently around the two of you that anything approaching floyd's size and strength that might've been living in this lake has probably been scared off.

when you dry off as best you can and stumble back to camp on noodly legs with a burning sort of ache in your hips, the quality of the thunderous silence that greets you -- you don't even hear any birds chirping -- banishes any remaining hope you might've had that you somehow weren't overheard. floyd is predictably unrepentant, but you make an immediate beeline for the tent in which you'll be hiding for the foreseeable future -- until floyd drags you back out of it, that is.

#floyd leech x reader #twst x reader #!candid replies #!candid thirsts

[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.

#geto suguru #geto x reader #gojo x reader #geto smut #jjk geto #getou suguru #getou suguru x reader #getou x reader #getou smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru

[luxekook]

call him bestie in bed | minwon

❯ pairing: mingyu x reader x wonwoo

❯ genre: best friends to lovers, slight angst, smut, fluff

❯ summary: you realize you’re in love with your best friends. chaos ensues.

❯ word count: 8.2k

❯ warnings: 18+, cursing, reader thirsts over minwon (and who can blame them?), some miscommunication and self-sabotaging behaviors (reader is an idiot for a hot sec), light drinking, brief mention of heavy drinking (one reference to a past event), dirty talk, jealousy, teasing, everyone is a switch but mingyu’s a total baby boy and reader calls wonu daddy, mingyu likes degradation and denial uwu, wonwoo just wants to please uwuwuwuwu, reader has breasts and a vagina and uses she/her pronouns, wonwoo calls reader pretty girl, gyu calls reader baby, smut [heavy makeouts, oral (giving and receiving), fingering, masturbation, unprotected penetrative sex (wrap it plz folx), creampies on creampies hehe]

❯ an: this fic is based on the meme "call him bestie during s*x" and on the beautiful gifset by @jaemtens.

It hits you smack in the face at 10:42 PM in the middle of Seungkwan’s crowded kitchen. Unable to look away, you stare at your two best friends as they pose for ‘candids’ courtesy of DK. Mingyu and Wonwoo lounge against the liquor-filled countertop, murmuring to each other in between flashes of smiles.

It’s then that the pesky little thought you’ve somehow suppressed for weeks finally surfaces, detonating all over your life.

You are in love with your best friends.

You’re in love with Mingyu. His generous heart, his pouty sweetness, his natural caretaker persona.

You’re in love with Wonwoo. His quiet strength, his unmatched wit, his ride-or-die attitude.

And the two of them together? The yin-and-yang combination results in such an overwhelming pull that you just can’t ignore any longer. It’s their inner beauty you really fell for first. But the outer beauty? Wow.

You’re vaguely aware that Dino is talking to you about some sort of new TikTok dance he wants to cover, and you nod along with the proper non-committal hums in response. But when Mingyu grabs Wonwoo’s necklace and tugs him closer, your body short circuits. “I need some air,” you gasp out to Dino, pushing past partygoers to escape to the small balcony attached to the apartment.

It’s empty. No one else seems to be willing to risk the frigid winter chill except for you. You hug yourself tightly as you stare out at the city lights twinkling around you. Heaving a sigh, you watch as the fog from your breath dissipates in the breeze.

Honestly, what are you going to do? How the fuck are you supposed to act now? What will they think of you?

Your mind plummets down dark paths filled with rejection and dismay. How could this possibly end well? The beginning of tears sting in your eyes, and everything feels off-kilter.

Maybe you should just go.

“(Y/n)?”

Your eyes shut, shoulders slumping low. It seems you missed the sound of the balcony door under the roar of your restless mind.

“(Y/n),” Wonwoo repeats with a sigh. “What are you doing out here? You’re going to freeze to death. I made Mingyu go grab your coat.”

You give a half-hearted shrug in response, feeling Wonwoo’s sharp inquisitive stare on the side of your face. You can tell he wants to say more, but he’s interrupted by the balcony door opening and closing with a loud thud behind you.

The weight of your jacket immediately envelops your shoulders. “Are you crazy, (y/n)?” Mingyu practically shoves your arms through your coat sleeves for you before tossing Wonwoo his own jacket. “I swear you’re shaving years off our lives! It’s almost December! It snowed yesterday!

“Well yeah, but that was yesterday,” you reply. And apparently that was the wrong response given the fact that both boys are eerily silent until–

“Okay, what’s wrong? Because I know everything was fine before we got here, wasn’t it?” Wonwoo gently takes your chin in his hand and turns you to face him and Mingyu.

They must see the tears glistening in your eyes because Wonwoo curses under his breath. Mingyu’s nostrils flare. “(Y/n),” Mingyu says softly, your name falling like a vow off his lips. “Who do we have to deal with? Was Dino saying something to you? Because that little shit will pay–!”

“No!” You cut him off before he does anything drastic, because Mingyu absolutely will. “I just needed some air. That’s all. The cold makes my eyes water.”

Your friends exchange a long look that you know screams of disbelief, but you are well past caring. You need to blow this popsicle stand. Now. “I’m out of here,” you plaster a hopefully believable smile on your face, “I’ll see you around?”

Without waiting for any sort of response, you push back inside. The sudden noise briefly jolts you, but the heat is a welcome relief. Finding Seungkwan in the living room, you thank him for the invite and assure him you’ll get home safely. It’s then that you feel their presence again at your back.

“I’m sure you will,” Seungkwan grins at you before looking up at the two boys you’re now certain are right behind you.

You roll your eyes at his antics. “Bye, Boo,” you say, hugging him and kissing his cheek. Seungkwan sends you off with a wave.

Making your way out the door, you stop in the narrow hallway and turn to your friends. “You don’t have to follow me, you know. I’m perfectly capable of getting home by myself.” It’s a difficult feat to meet their hard stares, but you manage it.

“When have we ever let you leave somewhere by yourself, (y/n)?” Wonwoo’s voice is deceptively calm for how annoyed he seems to be by your statement. Too bad you’re too frazzled to pay it half a mind.

“Doesn’t seem fair of me to interrupt your night,” you reply, crossing your arms in front of you. “I don’t want to be a cockblock.”

“A what!” Mingyu chokes on air, fuming. “The only thing that’s blocking our—!”

Wonwoo cuts Mingyu off with a look that clearly screams shut-the-fuck-up-you-idiot before turning back to you. “(Y/n), where is this coming from? We’re your best friends. You can talk to us.”

It’s that statement that makes you deflate. The air quite literally leaves your body in a wheeze of a sigh. “It’s nothing, Wonwoo. I’m just tired.”

You turn before either boy can respond and start walking down the hallway towards the elevators. After punching the down arrow many more times than necessary, you pull your phone out of your pocket and tap the rideshare app.

“Absolutely not,” Mingyu grabs your phone right out of your hands.

“Kim Mingyu,” you growl, lunging for your stolen device, “Give that back!”

Chuckling, that tall fucking skyscraper only holds it up higher. “No, we drove you here; so we’ll drive you back.”

You stare up at him and his beaming smile, his bright eyes, his beautiful energy. It’s too much. Way too much. You slide your gaze from Mingyu to Wonwoo, who has the smallest smile on his face as he looks at you both. He’s always been just as deadly.

It’s the elevator that saves you. The ding is like a bolt of lightning to your resolve, and you launch forward into the awaiting lift. You’ll let them drive you home and then inhale your emergency pint of Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food. You got this.

Turns out you do not got this. The vibe in Mingyu’s black SUV is not it. Everything with the three of you is usually comfortable, easy. Tonight, you know your quietness is making waves. But what are you supposed to do? Blurt out your bombshell of a realization? Potentially ruin your friendships because you’re scared of a little silence? No way in hell.

You need to process this for at least a few days and plan your actions for another. You had to be smart about this. Wonwoo and Mingyu are too precious, too vital to your life to be risked by any means. It honestly should not have come as a surprise to you that you love them. But maybe denial had been easier until now. Because now you feel as if you want them to love you back more than you want air in your lungs.

Ah, the drama.

Finally, the car pulls up in front of your building. “Thanks for the ride, Gyu,” you turn to him, shooting him the best smile you can muster up.

“Anytime, (y/n). I mean it,” Mingyu’s voice rumbles out of him. His gaze hooks on your smile for a half second too long. You blink and turn to the backseat where Wonwoo’s stretched out in the middle seat. His long legs open wide, practically an invitation– Nope. Not going there. Not today, Satan.

“Bye, Woo,” you smile at him and turn to get out of the car.

“Hey!” Mingyu’s voice trails after you as you hop out of the tall SUV, “No goodbye kiss for me and Wonwoo?”

“Or are those exclusively for Seungkwan?” Wonwoo’s door opens as he gets out to take your spot in the passenger seat. His deep voice is teasing, but his eyes… His eyes demand an answer.

“Well,” you pause, knowing that you’re about to give the most idiotic rationale, “Host a party and maybe I’ll consider it.” With that, you give them the most embarrassing finger wave of your entire life and hightail it out of sight into your building.

Later, your phone chimes with a message. It’s to the main group chat with all of your friends.

It’s from Mingyu.

“Thanks for the party, Seungkwan. Wonu and I got next. See you all Thursday night at ours. ;)”

Fuck.

“Wait, I don’t understand,” your sister squints at you through your phone as you FaceTime, “You’re really going to sit there and tell me that you just realized you like them? As more than just friends? Bitch, our whole family thinks you’re in a poly relationship and supports it. Even great grandma Ethel is jealous of your men.”

The sip of coffee you just took comes flying out of your mouth. “What!” You splutter, coughing. “Please tell me you’re kidding about Granny Ethel.” This is not at all what you expected to hear when calling your older sister for advice after last night’s fiasco.

“Fine, I’m kidding about her, but our entire family does think you’re in a relationship.” She shrugs at you like this isn’t news. “I mean, you know that is how they act with you, right? They act like boyfriends.”

“How?” You rack your brain to try to come up with any fitting example, but you can’t seem to think of a single thing. “They just seem to act like good friends to me.”

“(Y/n)…” Your sister sighs, “I love you, but you are so oblivious. Remember last summer? When Wonwoo and Mingyu came to my graduation party, and we both got a little too drunk off of Mom’s wine stash?”

You laugh, remembering how the boys found you and your sister in the backyard chasing each other with your little cousins’ water guns. “Yeah, I tripped over the sprinkler and hit myself in the face with a Super Soaker.”

Your sister cackles, “Such a priceless memory! But I meant what happened after that.”

“You mean when I got my ass handed to me by two overprotective boys?” You shake your head at the recollection of being carried into the house by Mingyu as Wonwoo ranted your ear off about being more careful.

“More like when you got cuddled and bandaged up by your two beefy boyfriends who then wanted to go set fire to a sprinkler for daring to hurt you,” your sister laughs as your face twists at her words.

“That sprinkler did go missing after your party…” you muse, finally giving in and laughing along with her. Your best friends are menaces, and you love them for it. You love them, period. And if that isn’t the crux of it.

“So, what do I do?” You plead with your sister, “If they do love me like you say they do, how can I know for sure?”

“Just ask them.” She takes one look at your horrified face and scoffs, “Oh please, what happened to (y/n) ‘I’m a bad bitch, you can’t kill me’ (y/l/n)?”

“Never heard of them,” you lie.

Your sister mutters what are surely insults under her breath before shrugging. “Fine, you could just test it out instead. See the response to some different scenarios.”

“Yeah? Like what?” You barely get the question out before your eyes widen in terror at the maniacal smile that splits across your sister’s face.

“Here’s what you’re going to do…”

After spending the next week dodging calls from Wonwoo and Mingyu, sending the barest of texts and contemplating your very existence, you find yourself standing outside of the boys’ apartment.

You’re late. The music already pounds through the walls, the door practically shaking with each thump of bass. You’re pretty sure no one realizes you’re even coming. But that’s what the plan essentially is… at least that’s part of it.

The other part is this outfit. You’re honestly on some real hot girl shit in your tight leather pants, slightly sheer black crop top, and black strappy bra.

Yup, the plan is all about attention. You’re not usually one to demand it, but here you are.

Turning the knob of the door, you strut inside. Your friends are scattered throughout the apartment you know like the back of your hand. The music covers up the sound of the door slamming shut, but not entirely.

“(Y/n)!” Jun yells, practically bowling you over with a hug, “You’re here!”

“Hi, Jun,” you grin up at your affectionate friend, “How’s the party so far?”

“Honestly, the vibes were a bit weird before you got here,” Hoshi butts in from behind Jun. The blond haired boy holds out a beer for you, which you accept with a smile.

“I think Mingyu was sulking?” Jun giggles, “More pity party than party-party if you ask me.”

“I haven’t even seen Wonwoo tonight,” Hoshi adds, cutting Jun off. “Why throw a party if you’re not even going to attend?”

You hum, not really sure how to respond. Your skin prickles under the weight of so many stares. You shrug it off as best you can, pushing further into the apartment and greeting friends along the way.

You don’t see them until it’s too late.

You’re in the middle of a conversation with Vernon when your eyes meet his. Wonwoo is sprawled next to Mingyu on their couch. You’re going to kill Hoshi for misinformation when you see him next because you really needed a warning. The way Wonwoo’s arms look in his blue cut-off shirt should be illegal.

Wonwoo finally looks away from you, glancing over at Mingyu. Your eyes follow, and your legs threaten to buckle as you realize Mingyu is already looking back at you. He looks at you like he wants to devour you whole. God, the way his teeth sink into his lower lip makes your mind fill with the dirtiest thoughts.

His dark eyes slowly flick over your body before meeting yours again. You want to run. You want to jump on him. There is no in between in this case.

“You’ve got it bad.” Vernon’s voice coaxes you back to reality. He continues, “If it makes any difference, I think they’ve got it worse.”

And then he just walks away. Like he didn’t just drop that bomb.

Classic Vernon. You can’t help but laugh.

An hour later, you’re playing pong in the boys’ tiny dining room with Joshua against Jeonghan and Cheol. You’ve successfully avoided Mingyu and Wonwoo so far tonight. And with the sort of looks that they gave you earlier, you need all the breathing room you can get. Because is your loved-up mind conjuring up reciprocation? Or are they actually feeling some type of way? It’s honestly driving you insane. So insane you almost miss Mr. Yoon Jeonghan cheating for the fifth straight turn.

“Jeonghan, if I see that elbow cross the table one more time I’m going to tackle you,” you cry, shaking your head at the boy’s inability to deviate from his devious tendencies.

Jeonghan just smirks and makes an elaborate show of pushing his elbow way past the edge of the table. “Oops,” he says, his smirk widening, “Please don’t follow through, (y/n).”

“You little—!” you start towards Jeonghan, rounding the table and marching towards him with purpose.

“(Y/n),” Joshua calls nervously.

“Not now, Josh.” Your eyes narrowing on your prey, “I’m defending our honor.”

“But—!” Josh never finishes his warning before you’re tugged out of the dining room and thrown over someone’s shoulder. A shoulder that smells suspiciously like Mingyu.

“What the fuck?” You yelp, wiggling around, “Put me down!”

Thwack! Your ass stings before you realize what had even happened.

“Did you really just spank me?” All the blood is rushing to your brain, and it’s making it hard to wrap your mind around this utter bullshit.

The world spins around you for a second as you’re tossed on a bed. Wonwoo’s bed. With Wonwoo standing over you next to a pouty looking Mingyu.

“Hi,” you blink up at them. Like an idiot.

“Hi,” Wonwoo drawls back to you. Mingyu says nothing, but the look on his face speaks volumes. Clearly, you are in trouble here.

You push up into a sitting position. “You could have just asked to talk to me instead of kidnapping me from your own party, guys.”

“Oh yeah?” Mingyu scoffs, “Could have fooled us. You didn’t even say hi when you walked in. Not to mention you’ve been ignoring us all fucking week! You’ve been weird ever since Seungkwan’s party, and we’re over it.”

“You’re going to tell us what’s up with you, (y/n).” Wonwoo’s no-nonsense tone sends a shiver down your spine. He reaches out to grab a lock of your hair, playing with the strands. “Start talking, pretty girl.”

Pretty girl?

You’re done. “I don’t have to tell you anything,” you blurt, completely flustered over Wonwoo. You stand, getting him to drop your hair but now placing yourself entirely too close to both of your friends. “I’m going back out there. Joshua needs me.”

“Oh,” Mingyu laughs darkly, “Joshua needs you? I thought you wanted Jeonghan.”

You stare up at him, eyebrows raised. Is that… jealousy? A hint of hope dawns. Your inner bad bitch finally steps in. “And what if I did?”

For a moment, no one speaks. The room practically crackles with tension. Your chest is tight, hands shoved into your back pockets to keep from reaching up to sooth it.

“If you did,” Wonwoo murmurs, sharing a dark look with Mingyu, “We’d have to deal with it.”

“Yeah, you’d have to deal with it,” you nod emphatically. “Why are you saying it like you’d take him out or something?”

They both just shrug. You decide you hate being on the opposite end of the silent treatment for once. Karma really is a bitch.

“You know what? Maybe I will just go out there and jump Jeonghan since you both clearly think that’s what I want. Maybe I’ll even go for Josh, too! Might as well at this rate! No one else is volunteering!” You move to stalk past them when it happens.

Mingyu slides in front of you, blocking any means of escape. Wonwoo comes up behind you. His body leans into yours, halting any more movement.

“She’s not getting it.” Wonwoo mutters. You feel his hands resting on your hips, burning into your skin where his fingers rest under your shirt.

“She’s really not,” Mingyu agrees, staring down at you with furrowed brows and a glower of epic proportions. His hair is in disarray but frames his face so well you really might pass out.

“She is standing right here,” you protest. Your body is firing on all synapses and when Mingyu presses closer to you, his fingers hooking into your belt loops, you have to bite back a moan.

“So she is,” Wonwoo says, lips brushing your ear.

Mingyu flashes you a smile that’s more teeth than anything else. “Finally.”

“If one of you doesn’t start explaining yourself, I'm going to start screaming,” you warn. Except your so-called warning comes out weak, easily being dismissed by the two boys currently sandwiching you in between their bodies. The only reactions are a burst of heat in Mingyu’s dark eyes and a slight squeeze from Wonwoo’s fingers.

You clear your throat, desperation clawing at your insides. What is even happening? How dare they toy with you like this! Wedging you between them like you’re nothing and then ignoring you altogether!

You lose it. “Let me go!“ Your arms push Mingyu’s hard chest to no avail. You push harder, frantic. It’s too much to be so close to them. To feel them like this knowing what your true feelings are.

“Don’t ask us to do that,” Wonwoo murmurs, grabbing your hands and tugging them gently into his at your sides.

“Because you’re never getting rid of us, baby.” Mingyu’s words are a fierce declaration, but the thing he does next is even fiercer still.

He kisses you.

His hands frame each side of your face, gently stroking his thumbs over your cheeks. His plush lips are firm on yours, demanding in their capture.

The sudden feeling of Wonwoo’s tongue dragging up your neck causes you to gasp, and Mingyu doesn’t hesitate. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, rolling across yours.

“Fu-uck,” Mingyu moans against your lips, “She tastes so good, doesn’t she, hyung?”

“Better than we imagined,” Wonwoo smiles against the thin skin under your ear before he nibbles at it and then sucks.

The whimper that bubbles up from your chest would have been embarrassing if you cared about appearances. You’re well past that now.

“You two were discussing how I taste?” How is one supposed to feel about that information?

Wait.

“Without me?” Okay, so you’re a tad bitter. Sue you. FOMO is a curse.

“You can participate now if you want,” Wonwoo laughs, chest shaking against your back.

“Cool,” you shrug, feigning lots of confidence you don’t really have right now. Honestly, fake it ‘til you make it. “I taste fruity with a hint of musk.”

The air stills.

“You—”

“She—”

You grin. Finally. The upper hand has never felt so good.

Suddenly, you’re swung around. Wonwoo’s hand rests lightly on your neck as his mouth descends on yours.

This time you don’t hesitate. Your mouth opens, tongue meeting his. Your hands clutch at his shirt, dragging him closer.

“What? No fair! Baby, I want a redo,” Mingyu whines, his hands gripping your hips before grinding against your ass. He’s hard and so fucking big that you really might be losing braincells from how badly you want him. Or maybe that's just from the restricted airflow courtesy of Jeon Wonwoo. Honestly, it’s a toss-up.

“You weren’t talking about how your mouth tastes, were you, pretty girl?” Wonwoo asks, panting slightly. His lips brush yours with each word.

“Nope,” you laugh, wiggling your ass back into Mingyu.

Both boys groan.

“Fucking evil,” Mingyu sighs dreamily before kissing up the side of your neck, sucking over the same spot Wonwoo had minutes prior.

“Why does it make so much sense that you’re into it?” Your laugh turns into a moan as Mingyu bites down on your earlobe and tugs. “Hey, watch those fangs.”

“Knew you’d be bratty,” Wonwoo chuckles, his hands sliding up your shirt ever so slowly. His fingers tease the bottom of your bra, caressing your tits through the barely there material. “Surprised it took this long.”

“Well,” you say with as much snark as you can muster despite the fact that you’re full-on panting now. “Who can blame me? It’s not everyday my friends corner me, kiss me, and admit to previously conversing about eating me out.”

The boys seem way too pleased about the state they have you in. Wonwoo’s grin widens with your words, and you can feel the smugness emanating from Mingyu as his hands slide into the back pockets of your pants.

You jolt as Mingyu squeezes your ass, and it’s his muffled laugh into your hair that makes you say it.

“Well, it's not everyday, but last week Minghao said he’ll marry me if we’re both single by thirty. So, I’m counting that.”

“How is that even remotely similar?” Wonwoo’s eyes narrow when you open your mouth to retort. “No, don’t answer that. It’ll just make me mad, pretty girl.”

“Hao should know you’re off limits,” Mingyu fumes, “Sounds like we need to have another talk with him, hyung.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Wonwoo shrugs. “We know that (y/n)’s marrying one of us, and that’s it.”

“Again, an invite to this conversation would have been nice!” You cry, pouting in a very Mingyu-like fashion.

“Why?” Mingyu laughs into your hair again, and you’re this close to losing your shit on him. “So you can go freak out for a week like you just did?”

Okay, fair but rude.

“Fuck you, Gyu.” You shimmy out of their holds with a speed you didn’t know you had in you. You don’t make it two steps towards the door before they’re both there, leaning casually against your only means of escape. And damn them because why do they have to look so fine with their tousled hair and swollen lips? The hungry looks in their eyes don’t help either.

You’re really in denial that you’re fucked here.

“Fuck me?” Mingyu smirks, “Go right ahead, baby.”

You march up to him and grab a fistful of his shirt, “You can’t say shit to me like that, Kim Mingyu. Not when you’ve just been tag-teaming me with Wonwoo and then talking about marriage? What the fuck am I supposed to think? That you want me for sex? Or that you want me for more? Because I may have just realized I love you last week, but I know what I want. And it’s not just sex.”

“You love us?” Mingyu has hearts in his eyes, grinning hugely down at you.

“That’s all you got from that?” You huff, turning to Wonwoo to get more of an answer only to find him looking at you with a devastatingly soft expression.

“You love us,” Wonwoo breathes out, his shoulders slumping slightly. The stress you never noticed before seems to evaporate.

“I do,” you smile at him. Soft Wonwoo might kill you, but you’d literally thank him for it. “Now, are you going to say it back? Or should I go grab Minghao––”

“Over my dead body,” Wonwoo growls. “You’re ours, pretty girl. I love you, too. Always have.”

You’re melting. Your eyes pan to Mingyu. “Gyu?”

Mingyu rolls his eyes, pouting. “How can you even ask me that? Of course I love you! Do you think I drive just anyone around no matter what? Do you think I cook all your favorite foods on the regular just for fun? Do you think I haven’t fucked anyone since we met because I’m interested in lifelong celibacy? Baby, come on. I’m yours.”

You jump on him. To his credit, Mingyu doesn't even hesitate. His hands cup your ass as soon as you finish wrapping your legs around his waist. Your lips take his, sucking his lower lip into your mouth and biting down.

“Oh shit,” Mingyu moans into your mouth, “Fuck me up, baby.”

You barely register that Wonwoo has pushed you both further into the room and is currently kicking everyone else out. Screams of encouragement from your friends as they leave are lost on you and Mingyu as you continue to devour each other.

You slide your tongue into his mouth, teasing his with a swipe and making him chase you. You suck his tongue as he enters your mouth.

“I hate you,” Mingyu groans once you let him have his tongue back. He spanks your ass for the second time that night, “Who the fuck taught you how to kiss like this?”

“Archive of Our Own,” you grin.

“Fucking nerd,” Wonwoo reenters the room just in time to roast you. Peak Wonwoo behavior.

“But you love this fucking nerd,” you shrug as best you can when you’re being manhandled by a 6’2 golden retriever type.

The smile you get in return could heat all the buildings in your city this winter. “Bed,” Wonwoo orders.

“What?” The word is barely out of your mouth before Mingyu unceremoniously dumps you onto Wonwoo’s bed and you're staring up at them yet again.

“Now,” Wonwoo says, “Tell us what you want from us tonight, pretty girl. Because me and Gyu will give you anything you ask for. Nothing more and nothing less. You’re setting the pace here. You want to cuddle? Fine. You want to make out some more? Great. You want to get fucked by Mingyu while I cum on your pretty tits? Exceptional. You want to slide up and down my cock while we make Mingyu watch without touching himself? Cool.”

Mingyu’s lips purse at the last suggestion, piquing your interest.

“Last one,” you grin at Wonwoo. “But I wanna ride you in reverse, Woo. I wanna face Mingyu as he sits in your chair and does nothing while I fuck myself on your cock, tease my clit and squeeze my tits.”

“Bet,” Wonwoo flashes you a grin and whips his shirt off. “Let’s go, pretty girl.”

“This is so unfair,” Mingyu whines, trying and failing to act like he’s not rock hard right now.

You both ignore him. Your shirt flies over your head before your hands fall to the fly of your pants.

“Oh no, I’ll be doing that, (y/n),” Wonwoo purrs, kneeling at the foot of the bed. “Lift up.”

Wonwoo slowly slides your pants down your legs, inch by agonizing inch. Vaguely, you sense Mingyu cursing under his breath as he drags Wonwoo’s chair into position and falls into it in a huff.

“Mmm,” Wonwoo hums, staring at you with pure hunger as your pants fall to the ground. Your body is covered by nothing but your bra and panties.

“Down in front,” Mingyu complains.

“Wait your turn,” you snap back, raising up to your elbows to stare at the boy across the room. Mingyu’s stripped down to his tight black boxer briefs, his cock straining the tight fabric.

His surly expression brightens immediately at your words. “I get a turn?”

Wonwoo lightly slaps your clothed pussy, “Don’t get his hopes up like that, pretty girl. Ruins half the fun.”

You shiver at his touch, “It just makes denying him later even more fun, daddy.”

“Too true, pretty girl,” Wonwoo’s grin turns feral. “Now call me daddy again.”

Mingyu’s ranting about your combined evilness, but you and Wonwoo are too focused on each other to pay him half a mind.

“Yes, daddy,” you drawl. The words barely escape you before your panties are ripped off your body and Wonwoo’s mouth is between your legs. His tongue is hot on your pussy, lapping at your wetness.

“F-fuck,” you moan, your hand entwining in his hair and gripping it as he finds your clit and sucks. His tongue circles the swollen nub. Your other hand winds its way up your body to your tits. You pinch and tease your nipple beneath your bra, wishing Wonwoo had ripped that garment off, too.

All thoughts leave your body as Wonwoo starts fucking you with his tongue, small groans escaping him with each taste of you. Your hips grind down on his face, needing more and more. “Greedy girl,” Wonwoo smiles against your pussy, “You lied earlier.”

“What do you mean?” You gasp out as Wonwoo’s finger replaces his tongue, easing into you.

“You should have told us you tasted like creamsicles,” Wonwoo removes his finger from inside you. “Should we let Mingyu try?”

“Yes!” Mingyu appears immediately, sucking Wonwoo’s finger into his mouth. The sight is so hot that you shrug off Wonwoo’s silent askance on disciplining the boy. Mingyu moans around Wonwoo’s finger, his tongue swirling around the long digit.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Wonwoo wrestles his hand back. “Now go sit back down with her taste in your mouth and watch me fuck her.”

“Fuck my life,” Mingyu groans but listens just like a good boy.

You sit up on shaky legs, reaching around to unhook your bra. “Let me,” Wonwoo murmurs as he stands. His hands brush across your shoulders, his mouth following their path with hot kisses. Your bra falls to the bed, and you fling it out of the way.

“Lay down, Jeon,” you shift over, pointing at the spot you just vacated. “My turn.”

“As you wish,” Wonwoo slides his pants down his legs, kicking them off. His cock bobs up, slapping against his abs.

Your response dies on your tongue at the sight. His cock is just so pretty – so long with a hint of curve that you just know is going to fill you up so fucking good.

“Damn, hyung,” Mingyu’s groan sounds from somewhere in the room, “She’s drooling for you.”

Wonwoo chuckles as he slides next to you on his bed. “That true, pretty girl? You want my cock in your mouth? Well, go ahead–!”

Your mouth is on him before he can finish his thought. You suck the head of his cock into your mouth with a moan, flicking your tongue at the bead of precum weeping from him. It’s Wonwoo’s turn to thread his hand in your hair.

“Mmm, yes, just like that,” he rasps, guiding you up and down his cock. You squirm at the encouragement, sucking him down further.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so damn wet,” Mingyu says, the words sounding strangled. “Please let me eat you out while you suck Wonwoo.”

You release Wonwoo with a pop. Flicking your hair over your shoulder, you look back at Mingyu. The boy looks wrecked. The tent in his underwear has a massive wet spot from his weeping cock. His temples bead with sweat, his hair a mess. His eyes are dark, desperate and pleading. His fists clench and unclench at his sides, like he’s seconds away from lunging for you.

“Please.” The word falls barely above a whisper.

“One lick,” you nod, a truly generous queen.

He’s on you before you can blink. Mingyu’s hands lift up your hips, his nose burying itself in you first. “Fuck me,” he breathes you in. You clench around nothing but the air he breathes out. The touch of his tongue on your asshole really shouldn't come as a surprise, and yet here you are, cursing into Wonwoo’s toned thighs.

Mingyu licks you at a glacial pace from ass to clit. It would be a good debate on which of the two of you is greedier. Clearly, Wonwoo is the patient one of the bunch. You reward Wonwoo by bringing a hand to his dick, jerking him off slowly.

“Mingyu,” you laugh, feeling his tongue stall on your clit for at least thirty seconds and counting.

“I th-till lickin’!” is the absolutely insane response you receive in true Mingyu fashion. “It th-till coun-ths!”

“Okay,” Wonwoo’s patience finally seems to run out, “That’s enough. Back to your chair, Kim.”

“Fine,” Mingyu sulks the whole way back. You stare openly at the expanse of bare back presented to you and decide then and there that you’re going to mark up that real estate so good.

The sound of a throat clearing brings you back to earth. “Are you gonna ride me, pretty girl? Or let Mingyu get away with something else, too?”

You scowl, hooking a leg over Wonwoo’s lap. You shoot him a glare over your shoulder as you sink down on his cock. “Happy, daddy?” You pant, feeling yourself stretched out so good on his dick.

“You have no idea, pretty girl,” Wonwoo’s eyes squeeze shut as he flexes, fucking his cock up into you.

You both moan. Your head falls back as Wonwoo’s hands grip your hips and ass, fucking you at a demanding pace.

“Harder,” you order, bringing a hand to your clit, circling it in time to his thrusts.

“Brat,” Wonwoo says with a spank that has you clenching down on him and has him chuckling. “Knew you liked it when Gyu spanked you.”

Mingyu, ever the opportunist, takes the mention of his name as a go-ahead to start talking. “Knew you liked it, baby. You squirmed all over me. Look at you now, falling apart on Wonu’s cock. You like how he fucks you, (y/n)?”

You glare at the boy across the room. Mingyu looks even more fucked out than you, so you have no idea where he’s getting the audacity to come at you like this. His arms are behind his back, causing his biceps to flex outrageously. His head is tilted back, showing his neck as he watches you with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Careful, Mingyu,” you warn, leaning back to place a hand on Wonwoo’s chest. You start fucking yourself down onto Wonwoo’s cock, meeting each of his thrusts. Your eyes never leave Mingyu’s. You grin at the rapid steam of curses the other boy emits. “You were awfully confident for a boy seeing none of the action. What happened?”

“So mean,” Mingyu whines, his cock twitching in his briefs at your words. He brings a hand to rub it.

“Don’t,” you order, nails digging into Wonwoo’s skin as his thrusts quicken. Mingyu whines but listens.

Wonwoo hits that sweet spot inside you and you whimper, “Yes, Woo, right there, please, daddy.”

“Like that, pretty girl?” Wonwoo’s raspy voice sends an added shiver down your spine as he hits that spot again and again. You feel the warmth of your impending orgasm sweep up your body.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cry, swiveling your hips. “Want your cum, daddy!”

“Fuck,” Wonwoo growls, his hips stuttering for a quick second under you. “You want my cum, (y/n)? I told you I’d give you anything. You want me to stuff you full, pretty girl?”

Every stroke of his cock brings you closer, his words edging you closer still. “Yes, daddy, please! Fill me up. I want to feel you dripping out of me!”

“Goddamn,” Mingyu groans, bringing your attention to him. His briefs are abandoned now, your eyes immediately go to his cock. His giant cock that really looks like it needs attention from how pink and swollen it is. Precum is leaking down the tip onto his thighs and you really want to taste it.

“Gimme,” you say, pointing at his cock.

“What?” Mingyu’s eyes are glued to the way your tits bounce with each push of Wonwoo’s cock.

“I wanna taste your precum on your fingers. Now, Gyu!” You demand, so fucking close to cumming all over Wonwoo but still desperate for more.

“Goddamn,” Mingyu curses as Wonwoo’s hand slaps your ass twice in rapid succession.

“Greedy girl wants both of us inside her already, Gyu,” Wonwoo’s voice is strained with the effort not to cum before you do. “Give it to her.”

Mingyu stands, scooping the drops of precum onto his pointer and middle fingers and crosses the room to you. He barely moves his fingers in front of your mouth before you suck them into your mouth. “Shit,” Mingyu sighs, eyes glued to the suction of your mouth around his digits.

Your eyes fall closed, the taste of Mingyu on your tongue and the pounding of Wonwoo’s cock inside you are overwhelming. You cum with a scream, gushing all over Wonwoo as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. “Wonwo-ooo!” You cry, your body falling forward into Mingyu’s, his fingers falling from your lips.

“Yes, pretty girl,” Wonwoo groans, his thrusts becoming wild, “Milk my cock.” You feel him coming, painting your walls and filling you up with his warmth. The grumbled curses falling from his lips make you clench around him one more time, and the moan he emits is nothing short of beautiful.

“God, (y/n), I really fucking love you,” Wonwoo slowly turns you around in his lap, bringing you down to cradle you to his heaving chest.

“Love you, too,” you smile, kissing his neck before licking a trail of sweat from it. How are you still needy? You can feel the cum beginning to drip out of your pussy and squeeze as best you can to keep it inside you.

Wonwoo’s body jolts. “(Y/n),” he groans, “Gonna kill me.”

“Nah,” you smile, “Like you too much.”

A throat clears from behind you, “Yeah, this is sweet and all, but I’d just like to remind you both that I’m so hard I might pass the fuck out.”

You and Wonwoo just grin at each other, much to the displeasure of the boy behind you. You pull back from Wonwoo’s neck to give him a kiss. He smiles against your lips. “Go put him out of his misery before he keeps us up all night jerking himself off.”

“Hyung!” Mingyu cries before muttering, “How did I forget how much of a little shit post-nut Wonwoo is?”

“Not as much of a little shit as pre-nut Mingyu apparently,” you laugh, moaning slightly as you ease Wonwoo out of you. You turn to look at Mingyu over your shoulder. “Help me up, please?”

Mingyu is pouting – again – but ultimately helps you off the bed. You stare up at the boy before you. His hair is damp with sweat, his muscles straining. His cock juts between you, the vein pulsing angrily. You close your hand around it.

“Shit,” Mingyu hisses, body jerking forward into your hold. His cock is hot velvet beneath your grasp.

“Such a good boy,” you murmur, “Waiting so nicely over there while your hyung fucks and fills me.” Mingyu moans at your words, cock twitching with each tug of your fist. “Did you like watching us?” You question, “Did you picture it was you fucking me instead of him? Did you want it to be you that was stuffing me full of cum? That it was you making me cream on your dick?”

“Liked watching you and hyung,” Mingyu pants, eyes rolling to the back of his head, “But want you to fuck me, too.”

“Sit,” you push him back into Wonwoo’s chair. You hear the slight protest from Wonwoo behind you but choose to ignore it. Oops.

Climbing onto Mingyu’s lap, you position yourself over his cock. “You like feeling Wonwoo’s cum coat your cock, baby boy?” You purr, grinding yourself on his dick back and forth.

“Fuck yes, baby,” Mingyu’s hands rest heavily on your hips as you continue to coat his cock with your and Wonwoo’s juices.

“You gonna give me your cum, too?” You lean over, placing open-mouthed kisses all over his throat.

“All of it,” Mingyu’s words die on his lips as you finally take him inside you.

You both curse. He’s bigger than Wonwoo, and the stretch is almost absurd. His grip on your hips turns bruising, but you don’t care. You drag your hands down his back, digging your nails into his pretty skin.

Unlike with Wonwoo, you’re setting the pace, truly riding Mingyu into a frenzy with each swivel of your hips.

“Fuck, baby,” Mingyu moans, biting his lip, “Dreamt about this.”

“Did you now?” You bite his neck, “And how does reality compare?”

“Better than anything I could have thought up,” he pants out, cock twitching inside you. A hand leaves your hips and comes to rest on your pussy. His fingers tease and circle your clit, drawing a moan out of you.

“Your pussy grips me so good.” Mingyu’s head drops to your shoulder, “Wanna stay here forever.”

“Sharing is caring,” Wonwoo says, suddenly popping up in your field of vision. He’s still naked aside from a pair of glasses he must have just slipped on after taking out his contacts. Your eyes fall to his cock… It’s hard again.

“Fuck off, hyung,” Mingyu ducks his head lower and sucks your nipple into his mouth.

“Yeah,” you sigh, cradling Mingyu’s head closer to you with your palm, “Fuck off, hyung.”

“Careful,” Wonwoo grabs your hair in his fist, yanking your head back to meet his eyes. “I’ll put that smart mouth to work again.”

The sassy reply dies on your lips when you feel Mingyu’s cock jump inside you. “Oh damn,” you giggle, causing the boy to twitch even more beneath you. “He really does like it when we’re mean.”

Wonwoo’s lips quirk, “I know, pretty girl. He’s helpless.”

“Hate y’all,” Mingyu mumbles around your tit. His fingers increase their pace against your clit, drawing you higher and higher.

“She’s close, Gyu,” Wonwoo warns, like it hadn’t already been abundantly clear from your actions. Wonwoo’s hand still grips your hair, while the other is jerking himself off.

“Thank god,” Mingyu stutters, hips shifting up underneath you. “Wanna cum. Please let me cum, baby. Wanna fill you up like Wonu did.”

His pleas more than anything hurtle you closer to coming, the fucked out expression on his face is a thing of beauty.

And so you deny him. “Not yet,” you gasp out, doubling your pace. “Not ‘til I say you can.”

“Fuck, please, (y/n),” Mingyu’s eyes squeeze shut, “Feels so good. Can’t hold on.”

“You better,” you grind your hips viciously into his. “Now suck my tits again like a good boy.”

He listens immediately, moaning around your sensitive nipple as you continue to fuck yourself down onto him.

“You’re wrecking him,” Wonwoo tugs your hair, bringing your attention back to him. His cheeks are pink with exertion as his fist works his cock harder - the tip swollen and leaking. “Where do you want my cum this time, pretty girl? Tell me now.”

“My ass,” you moan, wiggling it before pushing up almost all the way off of Mingyu. “Want you to cum all over my ass, daddy, while my pussy sucks all the cum out of my baby boy.”

“Consider it done,” Wonwoo grins, releasing his hold on your hair to stand behind you in position.

You return your full attention to the boy quaking under you. “P-please, baby,” he whines, “So fucking close.” You place a gentle kiss on his lips. A deception he easily falls for. Cutie. As soon as Mingyu sighs into your lips, you sink down his cock in a split second.

“Ah!” He cries, thighs clenching underneath you. Tears leak from his eyes as he throws his head back, the strain of not coming exhausting him.

“Such a good boy,” you purr, hands stroking up and down his chest. You ride him hard, pace brutal. “Come.”

The word barely finishes before he’s coming with a roar, hands gripping your hips, cock deep inside you. You feel his release shoot so deep within you, joining Wonwoo’s. That thought alone sets you off, your orgasm ripping through you. Seeing stars, you whimper as you feel Wonwoo’s own release paint your ass.

The flutters of your pussy milk every last drop out of Mingyu and the poor boy is spent under you. “Fuck me,” he moans, his head buried in your tits. “Never gonna let you go. This pretty fucking pussy is ours.”

Wonwoo’s hands are on your ass, rubbing his cum into your skin. “Damn right, Gyu,” he agrees, emphasizing his point with a slap.

Mingyu groans as he experiences first-hand what those spanks do to you. “Never thought I’d say this but don’t spank her again, hyung.” You and Wonwoo laugh, and Mingyu groans even louder. “No laughing either! Oh my god.” His frustrations only make you laugh harder.

“Hyung!” Mingyu cries, and Wonwoo finally takes pity.

“Alright,” Wonwoo chuckles, tugging you off Mingyu and into his arms. You pout at the sudden emptiness. “Don’t give me that look, pretty girl. We have all night.”

“We have forever,” Mingyu corrects, standing and running a hand through his wet hair. How the fuck does he still look that good? Honestly, it’s unfair.

“I never said we didn’t,” Wonwoo retorts and sends the both of them into a frenzy of bickering.

Mingyu: “Well, I just wanted to clarify so she doesn’t get ideas.”

Wonwoo: “Ideas?”

Mingyu: “Like– Well– You know!”

Wonwoo: “I don’t know.”

Mingyu: “Yes, you do!”

Wonwoo: “I don’t.”

Mingyu: “… I hate when you do this shit!”

Wonwoo: *pushes glasses up nose* “What shit?”

Mingyu: *produces series of unintelligible babblings*

“Okay, okay!” You laugh, patting Wonwoo’s arms to be put down. “I really need to use the bathroom, but feel free to continue this without me.”

Mingyu shoots Wonwoo a glare, but the other boy only has eyes for you. He sets you down gently, “Go get cleaned up, pretty girl. Feel free to shower and take any clothes you want, okay? We’ll be right out here.”

“I’ll make us some ramen!” Mingyu bounces on his feet, eager to contribute. “Or would you prefer something else? I’ll make anything! I just know you really like ramen. It’s your favorite! But–!”

You cut him off, “Ramen’s perfect, Gyu. Thank you.” You smile up at the gorgeous boy with the even more gorgeous heart. How lucky are you to call him yours?

“Okay,” Mingyu breathes out, looking just as taken with you.

“Okay,” Wonwoo clears his throat, ever the voice of reason. “Now, get going so we can all cuddle, people!” Your heart sings.

“Yes!” You cheer, skipping on the way to the bathroom. “Can’t wait to cuddle in bed with my besties!”

Silence greets your ears.

You slowly turn around to find them both staring at you with displeased looks on their faces.

“What?” You blink.

“Besties?” Wonwoo growls out.

“We just had our dicks inside you, baby!” Mingyu pouts. “Surely that’s boyfriend status?”

“Oh,” you pretend to think it over, enjoying how much this is annoying the two of them. “Anything for my besties, I guess!”

“(Y/n)!” Their voices bellow as you slam the bathroom shut behind you and lock it. Cackling, you turn the shower on. You’re so going to enjoy teasing the shit out of your two new boyfriends. After all, they’ll always be your besties, too.

an: hope y'all enjoyed! it's been so long since i've written anything but damn did minwon give me some inspiration uwu

© luxekook do not repost, edit or translate as protected under this license

#minwon x reader #minwon smut #minwon fanfic #mingyu x reader x wonwoo #mingyu x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt smut #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #mingyu fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen #svt #mingyu #wonwoo #kim mingyu #jeon wonwoo #meanie

[scarasbeetle]

OMG first Svarog writer I've come across 🤭 anon 👾 here! I've been thinking about this lately and what if Svarog started to take an interest into Clara's human babysitter (after the medical supply incident it was just much safer to get a human to help keep up with her and protect her when Svarog is busy), she's always just so cute and motherly to Clara, there for she's the best candidate from his calculations to be a mother and cute little wife RIGHTTTT I can also imagine him manhandling and overstimulating his darling and not even registering it as a problem 😭

Anyways it you do read this suggestion TY FOR TAKING THE TIME TO READ IT :))

~👾

Welcome 👾 Anon! :]

[I'll do a full fic instead of just a little HC/Thirst later <3] Hope this fed you at least a bit anon~ My pussy took over when. I wrote this.

(Fem reader)

NSFW BELOW

————————————

My God, imagining Svarog not understanding how little his darling, human wife can handle as he's slowly forcing his fingers deep into her pussy, making sure to rub against any spots he finds that make her moan especially loud~

Imagining how his cute little wife would sob as his large metal fingers abuse her pussy until she's crying from how many times she's came.

Also, Svarog, because he's a robot and was probably not built with a dick, would make one just so he could watch the reader moan and cry in pleasure due to him just going so fast and rough without notice or realizing what overstimulation is. His cute wife trying her hardest not to be too loud because Clara's in the other room.

Svarog just absolutely fucking the reader so hard that all she can do is cum again and again to the point where she can't even say it's too much :(

But at the end Svarog would be so soft and gently just so his wife can rest. In my opinion Svarog would be a Aftercare king for his human wife <3

#svarog x reader #Svarog smut #fem! reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #👾 anon #Bee's Thirsts 💦

[myoddessy]

most wanted woman on youtube | w2s/harry lewis

summary —everyone wants a piece of the world's most iconic youtuber gf, and she's willing to give the starving population a little crumb.... much to harry's frustration.

*inspired by the 'character' of bog's mrs by the wonderful @whoetoshaw

ynslover "the streets are saying y/n's festival style is cheap—" the streets are full of shit.

wroetoshawssss she OWNS festival szn

ynslover boomtown? nah, yntown is where it's at.

amyleclerc how is she literally the hottest person alive.

faithlouisak ikr?!

ynsbabymama faith???

faithlouisak I follow as many y/n fan accounts as I can, babes. I need to keep on top of my updates

lesbians4yn what's the cutest thing in the world, and why is it y/n through the eyes (posts) of the other sidemen gfs?

tagged: @taliamar @yourusername

faithxyn the picture of her and talia is literally my fav picture ever taken 🥺

mrnmrswroetoshaw the fact that most of them are candid and show her all smiley proves that she really is such a genuine person and such a softie even though she tries to play it off

taliamar oh she's the biggest cuddlebug known to man behind closed doors 🩷

bbetasquad the way the sdmn gfs always comment on fan accounts of y/n kills me 😭

ynswifeyy it's the fact that they post her more than they post their own bfs for me

maclar3n faith is THE WORST (best) for it too 😭 always posting their dates and throwing digs at harry in the captions

yourusername life lately (non-chaotic version) 🤍

faithlouisak hey sexy 😏💋

yourusername hey beautiful 😍😘

faithlouisak literally marry me

yourusername anything you want, my lover ❤️

harryswroetoshaw I genuinely can't tell if they're joking anymore 😭

faithlouisak we're not.

freyanightingale how are you so beautiful??

taliamar omg you're so sexy, are you single??

yourusername no but my bf smells so it doesn't matter ❤️

ynfanpage the sdmn gfs thirsting in her comments ☠️ they just like us fr

#harry lewis x reader #wroetoshaw x reader #w2s x reader #sidemen x reader #the sidemen x reader #the sidemen #harry lewis #wroetoshaw #social media au #youtube x reader #youtube

[fatale-distraction]

BG3 NPC Social Media Headcanons

This is the final part, but I might do a part 4 if I get requests for other NPCs!

~~~

Barcus - King of tutorial vids. He has tutorials for everything. He's so smart but so humble and makes things so easy to understand. Almost no selfies, but he has a few with Tav if they're dating.

Rolan - even more pretentious than Gale. They're social media rivals. Constantly making response vids to each other "well actually-ing." Lots of selfies. He's pretty and he knows it. Sibling shenanigans. Lifestyle king. Selfies with Tav if they're dating that are surprisingly sweet and tender. His siblings tease him endlessly. Lots of vomit and eggplant emojis from them. For how smart he is, he can't figure out how to delete them or block them.

Kar'niss - Horror king. Super weird content. Heavy metal and punk music. Fashion advice for drider. Anti-drow propaganda and drider advocacy. Unintelligible comments. If he's dating Tav, there's a LOT of solo Tav pics, mostly candid. He also has the advantage of 8 extra legs so he gets a lot of awesome angles for selfies. Captions are disturbingly devoted, really verging on creepy. Also a million fibre-craft videos and pictures. He goes through a sweater phase three times a year. It's strangely wholesome compared to everything else.

Raphael - OnlyFans. That's it.

Orin - body horror. Constantly being suspended for TOS violations and harassing people with weirdly sexual threats.

Gortash - Worse than Gale, Astarion, and Rolan COMBINED. MLM (multi-level marketing, you animals) mastermind.

Ketheric - exclusively passive-aggressive "parent of a no-contact child" memes.

Aylin and Isobel - That weird couple that shares social media accounts. Just the most disgustingly adorable coupley posts. Everyone hates them but is also super jealous. Power-couple goals.

Mol - She's too young to even have a social media account but somehow has one and it's a thriving online business????????????????? How?????? Go play outside.

The Emperor - Only MLM content. Occassional weird thirst traps. Mindflayer advocacy but make it toxic af.

Nere - he has one follower and its his mom.

Withers - the weirdest shit you've ever seen. All caps grandpa poster. He's the WORST at selfies. None of his pictures are in focus or centered. Constantly trashing on the Dead Three and responds to criticism with "get thee good" or some archaic bullshit.

Volo - tabloid central. Nothing he says can be trusted, yet he has a million followers who all believe his word to be gospel.

Elminster - total foodie blogger, especially cheese. He has an entire video series dedicated to cheese. Wrecks Gale at every opportunity. Shockingly good at photo-editing, will occasionally leave comments on other people's pictures of the SAME picture, but touched up better. It would be more insulting if he weren't actually really good.

~~~

Part 1 here!

Part 2 here!

Part 4

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 headcanons #bg3 #Baldur’s gate 3 Headcanons #barcus wroot #kar’niss #bg3 withers #bg3 volo #bg3 orin #orin the red #enver gortash #ketheric thorm #dame aylin #isobel thorm #elminster #the emperor #bg3 mol #bg3 rolan #bg3 raphael #bg3 nere

[gay-dorito-dust]

omg can i request enid pushing Wednesday to confess her feelings for an ace reader ? maybe Wednesday thinks she and Xavier have a thing but enid tries to make her keep an open mind and make her move

You were out of breath by the time Xavier and yourself made it back to school grounds and never had you ever felt as close to death then you did in that moment. Your calves ached in repentance for skipping stretching and your lungs burned with a thirst for oxygen and a break; Xavier on the other hand was better off then you were with just barely out of breath with a thin film of sweat breaking out across his brow, sticking the loose strands of hair against it.

“You did well, for your first morning run.” He said, flashing you his pearly whites in a smile, secretly amused of the glare you sent his way whilst wheezing for breath. “I hate you. I fucking hate you Xavier, I just wanted you to know that.” Xavier only pouted as he placed a hand over his heart whilst his free hand grasped your shoulder and drew you into his side, squeezing you tight. “I hate you too y/n. I’ve been meaning to tell you that for awhile now, ever since you stole my fucking sketchbook and threaten to dump it into the lake if you wanted to get into specifics.” He sighs, “I’m just so glad you reciprocated my feelings.”

Whilst you and Xavier had your back and fourth, him chasing after you when you got out of his grasp only to be caught once more. Wednesday was internally seething from the terrace of Ophelia Hall. Her jaw clenched at the sounds of happiness that emitted from the both of you; It sickened her to see you happily content within the arms of another, laughing with another, staring intently at another and yet she couldn’t help but feel envious of Xavier for getting to you before she could be given the opportunity to prove herself a worthy candidate for your heart.

Now she was forced to suffer the unbearable torment of seeing Xavier parade you around from the shadows as you passed her by. Wednesday had to admit, you and Xavier looked perfect together. Upon your first day of Nevermore it seemed as though to her that she and Xavier held the same thoughts about you, seeing firsthand of his eagerness when he approached you and much to her dismay you and Xavier got along like a house on fire. So in order to not feel outdone before she could even make an attempt, Wednesday would go out of her way to purposefully seek you out under the pretences that she needed some peace and quite away from Enid.

Looking back at it now, Wednesday believed she didn’t do enough to earn your favour but now she felt she was too late to change that. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t hear Enid join her until her voice reached her ears, “are you done sulking about the what ifs and the could have beens and ready to turn them into thoughts of the here and now?” Her optimistic chirping was the cause of countless headaches for Wednesday but right now she couldn’t help but question her perception of reality in that moment. “I can’t.” She responded blankly. “Why?” Enid questions, head tilted to the side in confusion as her lips formed into a pout.

“Y/n is dating Xavier.” Wednesday summarised without going into much depth of the situation. Enid made a face at this, “No they’re not. Where did you get that from?” As far as Enid was aware, you and Xavier were merely just friends who were comfortable being physically affectionate with one another. You had playful competitions between yourselves and had moments where it felt as though neither one of you could be seen without the other being spotted nearby. However none of those instances struck Enid as anything besides serving as examples of a strong platonic bond.

“Just look at them.” Wednesday said, now pointing at the pair of you using a bench as a shield to protect yourselves from being soaked from the others water bottle, laughing and exchanging halfhearted insults as the battle raged on. Wednesday couldn’t begin to describe the feelings welling within her chest without leading back to a word she knew best; torture. Enid looked over at you two and couldn’t help but smile softly at the two of you having fun, considering how bleak and morbid Nevermore may get sometimes; it was refreshing to hear the sounds of two people having a blast now and then.

“That’s just how friends are,” Enid explains, seeing as her dorm mate was foreign to the concept, “some friends prefer to spend time in solitude together, others go out to explore cities and try new things together and then there are those like Xavier and y/n-.” “XAVIER I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU GOT MY SHIRT WET!” Your screech interrupts the werewolf, making her chuckled at your outburst. “DON’T BLAME ME! WE DIDN’T SET UP ANY SORT OF RULES SO IT WAS UNDER MY ASSUMPTION THAT ANYTHING GOES!” Xavier exclaimed though it was obvious he found your frustrations hilarious.

“They’re just friends who wanna have fun as though they’re running out of time.” Enid explained to Wednesday, who still had her digressions about the depth of which your friendship with Xavier went but felt a slight shift within the air that maybe, maybe she’ll be given a chance. The blonde smiled at her dorm mate before nudging her with her shoulder, cussing her to stiffen like a corpse at the contact. “Why don’t you take this as your opportunity to ask her out? After all, it won’t belong until schools out for the holidays and since you don’t want to be a ‘slave to technology.’” Enid spoke the last of her sentence in an poor attempt in mimicking Wednesday which only made the girl look at her unimpressed.

“This is quite literally your only chance to talk to them because someone like y/n,” both Enid and Wednesday looked at you as you crept up behind Xavier, only for him to turn and grab you in his arms as he carried you off back to your dorms, “she won’t be single forever Wednesday. So please, just act upon what you want before it’s too late.” Enid finished as she patted Wednesday on the shoulder before leaving her to her own devise, knowing deep down that she would make the right decision.

#wednesday addams x reader #Wednesday Addams x you #Wednesday Addams imagines #Wednesday Addams imagine #Wednesday Addams fanfic #Wednesday Addams fic #wednesday x reader #wednesday imagine #Wednesday imagines #Wednesday x you #Wednesday fanfic #Wednesday fic