#Mecha Secretary | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yashkonu · 1 month ago

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inspired by krissy i want to talk about those sweet sweet original characters

it'll get long let's go...!

oh before i get into it you're gonna see a bunch of art throughout this that i've steadily been commissioning for years from @seeyouguyslater! they have a really keen eye for design from description and a dynamic, evocative style that lends itself well to pinning down visuals for characters who don't have anything more than a text description and a few reference images or picrews.

i'm gonna break this up by setting since i tend to think in terms of places and then build out characters from there so:

THE BOUND GODDESS

this is a fantasy setting that's been a loooooooong ongoing project between myself and @kc5rings that is the subject of a novel's worth of note-taking and two tabletop games (so far). the quick pitch is that it's a story about divine betrayal, divine love, the well-deserved implosion of an expansionist empire, and a lot of girls with really rotten luck. I'm only going to get into it about my own characters here for obvious reasons but go bug kat about theirs too!

Arcadia & Avalon

Arcadia is fate's chewtoy. She's also the sword of a creator-goddess (one of six divine instruments), fallen to the world to wander when the goddess was betrayed and bound by the myriad other gods. She's a sword in the sense of a sword of office, a sword of selection, and sometimes like a misericorde. She doesn't really relish any of these roles, since she has ages of experience with the things people do with them. Day to day, she's a jumpy, meticulous woman with an endless array of skills from her long years spent wandering and hiding in plain sight among humans. You're much more likely to meet her as an innkeeper's assistant or a baker's new hire than anything as grandiose as what she actually is. Please for the love of god be nice to her.

Avalon is one reason why you should be nice to Arcadia! She was the goddess' *other* sword, and is less about abstract concepts and far more about abrupt lethal violence. In the ages since the goddess was bound, not a single human has wielded Avalon, because even deep in dreams about the life she lost back then, Avalon cuts anything that gets close into ribbons. When one of her sisters is in danger, Avalon wakes for long enough to find and free them by the most direct means possible.

Lieutenant Chyr & Normal Secretary Sylvie

Chyr and Sylvie are citizens of a big shitty expansionist empire and members of its military! Kinda! It's complicated! Chyr nearly died when she was a kid and was saved by a VERY experimental procedure that partially fused her with a bat! Her big-ass ears are getting cut off by the image cropping. Being part bat has its upsides and downsides, especially in the kinda unstable prototype state she's in, and any time she's injured (frequently) her wounds heal with more batlike features instead of scarring. Patches of fur, single claws or fangs, that sort of thing. She's serious, loyal to a fault, and a part of the group that will eventually rip the empire apart from the inside.

Sylvie's just a secretary! Really! He's part of the same faction Chyr is and was also fused with an animal (a rabbit in his case) for complicated reasons that boil down to keeping his family out of the sights of a vindictive oligarch. He's a much more stable combination of person and bunny and doesn't suffer many of the drawbacks that Chyr deals with. He's also a secretary and lethally pretty! He's never not crossdressing and typically rocks the white blouse + black pencil skirt combo. Sylvie is sharp as a tack and knows exactly the effect he has on people; often he covers for this with a half-genuine scrambling flustered demeanor.

There are WAY more characters in this setting but honestly I could do several entire long-ass posts about it and that's not what we're doing here SO

SCI-FI SETTING WITH NO MECHS IN IT I HAVEN'T NAMED YET

look okay i love mecha we all love mecha they're big impressive evocative and all around cool. BUT. i also often feel like you lose something in a sci-fi setting when you put mecha in it because then it becomes *about* mecha in a way that's hard to shake. i started assembling this setting because i watched a bunch of legend of the galactic heroes and went man you can do some really cool stuff when it's all just ships planets stations and people. I haven't commissioned art for anyone in this setting yet but you bet your ass i plan to

Solo Sequentia

A mysterious figure in long, heavy robes and a wide-brimmed hat nearly big enough to completely hide their face. What if Siffrin from in stars and time were even more committed to not having an inch of visible skin. The name is a pseudonym (i'm not quite that committed to silly thematic names when it's a moderately serious setting), made appropriate by their weird-ass situation.

Solo Sequentia has a problem, which is that they can't die. Or more specifically, they *can* die, but each and every time they reawaken in bed in a studio apartment attached to an otherwise sealed facility just beyond the edge of the galaxy. In their search for answers (and possibly, a way to die for good) they lie, cheat, steal, manipulate, scheme, and sabotage their way across every inch of civilization.

ENSIGN 0 and the Ligature Squad

One of the key things of this setting is that it takes place in a galaxy split between three major powers, with big elaborate diplomatic maneuvering happening on the broad scale and endless back-and-forth territory squabbling between warlords at the borders between the three powers. At one point, one of the major factions kept a particular ace up their sleeve--a soldier beyond compare known only by the codename ENSIGN 0.

(an aside: a bunch of these glyphs and codenames and such are made with affinity photo and a bunch of fonts from a pack by YutaONE.)

ENSIGN 0 is sci-fi 60-something tragic dyke big boss. Her presence almost singlehandedly determined the course of the war for nearly a decade before she decided she'd had enough of being the secret weapon of a military she'd long since lost all faith in. No one who knows who she is has seen her since!

The powers who had used her as their killing implement du jour weren't about to take this lying down, and quickly moved to replace her--this time with a squad of robots they hoped would be easier to control.

That's Ligature squad babey!!!! Each of the six members is intended to replicate a portion of ENSIGN 0's skills. I actually did a little write-up about them ages ago, though they've changed a bit since then. To summarize:

Optic 1, sniper and infiltrator. Serious, quiet, often mean. Puts a lot of effort into never letting anyone know how she feels.

Sine 2, heavy ordnance specialist. Quiet and protective, never talks until she's already completed the thought in her head. Extremely funny when she feels like telling a joke.

Hound 3, close-quarters combat, flanker and tracker. Vicious, stubborn, and loyal to a fault.

Riptide 4, poisoner and saboteur. Charming, easy to talk to, hard to figure out. The cruelest of the bunch when she wants to be.

Tact 5, walking foundry. Tidy, polite, prone to getting flustered.

Rem 6, artillery specialist and tactician. Spends most days either asleep or in a dreamlike haze while she runs an unending array of tactical simulations. Snaps into dead serious focus when needed.

Surprise! They also didn't love being treated as disposable killing implements. They also disappeared on their creators, and now travel the galaxy working as mercenaries while they search for ENSIGN 0, who they think of as something between a mother, a mentor, and an inspiration.

I wonder how close to the character limit I am at this point.

CAPE CITY

this is where i have to make a confession. generally speaking, most of the time, i can't stand cape stuff. i see a superhero and i curl my lip into a sneer that would, thanks to the dread irony that rules my life, make me fit terrifically into that superhero's rogues gallery.

but.

BUT. i can't deny there's something really compelling there. urban fantasy making passionate love to professional wrestling. we could have it all and instead we mostly have a festering pack of racists, misogynists, and general old-boy's-club types shambling around in a pair of giant trenchcoats and all but smothering the genre in the process. it's usually around this point of rambling about it when i realize if i'm paying this much attention to it it must be because i care, oops.

so i made cape city! okay i say i made it but it's another collaborative one between me and kat. making stuff with kat is awesome. it's a loose freeform setting that boils down to what if there was a cool city where all the superhero/supervillain stuff happened. there are a ton of characters in this one that i wont get into in detail but to summarize a couple:

The Ballistic Boa (secret identity Aspen Lerna), a woman who got experimented on and is part snake now. She has a big cool tail, scales in some places, is VERY flexible, and has a pair of solenoglyphous fangs which have a venom that can kill anything. Like mystic eyes of death perception levels of anything.

Akida Ki, a psychic from a distant bad end future who came back to the past samurai jack style to save the world, but arrived to find that the crisis was already averted. Now she's just here and trying to figure out what to do next.

Judie, a career henchman, underling, minion, goon, whatever term isn't being used as an obnoxious marketing campaign or sex-negative pejorative this week. She's an eight and a half foot tall rabbit woman with several mechanical limbs and an absolutely unquenchable thirst for power and pleasure.

Kimera, an unfathomable creature wearing the shape of the human being it used to be. Loves to turn people into stuff and invented puppygirl HRT.

The setting is full of freaks like them and I could go on all day describing them but I want to focus more on two characters in particular:

Cold Comes Summer & Warm Sweeps Autumn

Remember how earlier I said I don't commit that hard to silly thematic names in serious settings? Well so okay this is not a serious setting. Rat girl Summer.

Summer is a villain! She's selfish, short-tempered, and hates her fucking family so goddamn much. Her family are a bunch of very type-moon style mages, and when she told them to fuck off and never contact her again she also swore off magic forever. Mostly. She's also a hypocrite. Instead she favors the classics of supervillainy--rayguns with a million knobs and switches, elaborate traps and devices, and the occasional Real Gun.

Autumn is a complicated case, and one deeply entwined with the nature of Cape City as a place. At the end of the day, the heroes and villains of Cape City all play a game. An elaborate, often dangerous, sometimes deadly game, but a game nonetheless. Games have rules.

Once, the person who would become Autumn was a hero's sidekick. Said hero was a bit of a ruthless sort, which is fine on its own, but...

But that hero decided to lay a trap for Summer with their own sidekick's life as the bait. Summer isn't a heartless rat and did all she could, but the sidekick was brain-dead by the time she arrived. Wracked with guilt and grief, she exhausted every avenue she could think of to try and bring them back--her own brand of mad science, Kimera's mastery of mutagens, the mental prowess of a fellow villain... even magic. After all her efforts, someone did, at last, wake up--but not the person she'd been trying to save. That new person became Warm Sweeps Autumn, and a motherfucker of a superhero got what they deserved.

Which brings us to Autumn! Yay! She's a big (6'11") soft great pyrenees woman with a heart of gold and a pair of big fuckoff gauntlets she grapples heroes with. Summer's best (and only) dedicated minion, she's nearly indestructible physically and completely indestructible mentally. Summer isn't about to let that happen again.

Completely Normal Secretary Sylvie

Secretary to a well-reviewed therapist in Cape City, Sylvie is,

wait

whadda hell...?

#my writing

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beesmygod · 1 year ago

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the most important thing about dyson sphere program is when the tutorial robot tells you, immediately after landing and exiting your capsule, that you and your mecha are going to "create miracles" in the same tone a secretary would use when answering a phone

create miracles :D

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brandwhorestarscream · 8 months ago

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Oh👀?

May i ask, what is it?

YOU MAY!!! :D thank you for enabling me lmao

TFA Cybertron, probably. At a very fancy schmancy, high profile law office. A terrifying collection of some of the best lawyers on the planet

One, we'll call him uuuuh Rulebook (idk ok??), usually takes clientele from the Towers, in high places in the government, aristocrats and wealthy pop stars and the like. Has a 98% case success rate and is considered to be among the best in the business. One day receives a physical data chip in the mail, quite antiquated technology as pretty much everything is transferred digitally these days. It's a very polite letter from someone that lives in the commonwealth, saying they want to make an appointment to consult with him. They've included the consultation fee already, as well as their address and social ID number. Considering they've already sent the money, he pens a response with his work comm and availability times. The call never comes tho, nor does his secretary mention them again, so he figures they must have found accommodations elsewhere.

Not the case. Another dataslug arrives several decacycles later, and jeez they must really be out in the boonies if they dont have longterm comms that can reach Cybertron. Even that stranded mecha on that organic planet had been able to get a signal through!

Long story short, after exchanging a couple more letters they have a set date for an in person consultation. His new client is very adamant to not share any details til they're face to face. Must be something serious

Day of the appointment, the law office gets a very unexpected guest bright and early. No sooner has the clock shifted to 08:00 do the doors slide back to reveal a wall of solid, eerily unpainted metal: the mech outside has to partially transform and compact his limbs into his chassis, then lower his helm to be able to squeeze through the door. At the desk, the first receptionist squeaks and drops her stylus pen. Second one fumbles a stack of datapads and sends them all flying with a loud clatter as a massive warframe very, very carefully makes his way inside.

He starts to un-crunch and his helm brushes the ceiling, causing him to wince and duck. "...pardon me," he awkwardly shuffles toward the front desk, where the pair working there are frozen in fear, staring up at him like cornered glitchmice optics wide and trembling. "Um. Morning, ma'm, sir. I've, uh, got an appointment with a Mr. Rulebook?"

The femme makes a strangled noise and reels back in her chair when he looks at her, slowly reaching for the hidden panic button under the desk. All high profile autobot facilities are equipped with them, in case of decepticon sightings. She's never seen one in person but he has to be one: he's a hulking giant with treads and red optics. "An-" her voice is shrill with panic. "An a- ap-!"

The warframe nods. "Yes ma'm, at 8 sharp," he shifts his weight and the floor creaks. "He said I should check in with you first."

The two employees share a horrified glance. Surely not...? They knew that one of the appointments today was a foreigner, but this!

They shakily ask his name, and he gives it. It matches. They go through the quick identification process, but it all comes back clean. For all intents and purposes, this is one of the head honcho's clients. They can't call the Enforcers on a client, can they?

After a not-so-quick squeeze into the elevator, warframe is escorted to the top floor where the offices are. He has to shuffle sideways through the hallway, but Rulebook's office has high ceilings and a grand view so he can actually stand up.

The lawyer is, obviously, shocked, but maintains a poker face. Asks his guest to have a seat, and tell him what he wants to accomplish.

"I want to sue the elite guard."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Yes. I wanna sue them for cybertronian trafficking. I have proof."

And what is the proof, you ask? Recently recovered and repolished memory files that were brought to the surface after the standard issue 100 million year processor checks. Officially, it's a test all of the elderly have to take when they hit their 100 millionth birthday, to catch early signs of processor rust, decay, or dementia. It's supposed to help the elderly maintain a high quality of life. Unofficially, it probably had some sinister alternate purpose asp, but. Nyeh

Warframe explains that he just had his big 8-digit birthday ("Oh, my congratulations. You don't look a cycle over 85.") and while having his processor revamped, refreshed, flushed, polished, and preened, a lot of old memories were revitalized and re-registered with intense, startling clarity.

"I knew their symbol looked familiar, I knew it did, but I couldn't ever put my finger on where I'd seen it before until I had my refresh checks."

He's a foreigner from an extremely far off planet, once a mining colony some odd 80 mya, but when it didn't produce nearly as much as they hoped, the site was abandoned, leaving a couple hundred slaves stranded and forgotten about. A ship was meant to come collect them, but just... never did. Over time, they started to make a life for themselves there, and now thanks to their efforts it's now a thriving, simple little colony.

But a lot can happen in 80 million years. Many of the warframes built houses and fell in love and got married and had families, lots of healthy little sparklings running around. It wasnt uncommon for said sparklings to be snatched up and sold, taken away to Cybertron or other extremely wealthy planets in the empire. Sparkling and youngling poaching was such a problem that to this day, it's not uncommon to find old houses with trick cupboards, hidden rooms, and basements with escape tunnels, anywhere a child could be hidden if their homwtown was subject to raids.

"One of our babies was taken," he admits, looking ashamed and sparkbroken, tears brimming in his optics. "He had just learned to walk, he was out in the fields with his brothers and sister, and then..." it happened so fast, suddenly they were just there, hordes of identical mecha raining from the sky with cages and prods and chains, everything erupting into chaos as desperate parents dove to save their sparklings. His toddler had been left behind as his siblings scattered in terror, and though his sire had run as fast as he could after him, he was too late to stop them from grabbing their baby and throwing him into a cage--with a now very familiar symbol emblazoned on the front.

"It was so fast, I didn’t realize. We don't really get public broadcasting out west where we live, and whenever we do we usually just use it for music. But I saw one of that... Sentinel mech's broadcasts, and he was wearing the very same symbol."

He projects a still image from his optic, a freeze frame from the moment their son was taken away. The sparkling looks terrified, falling back against the bars, and sure enough, the autobot symbol with it's proud wings behind it, clear as day. "See?" His voice is choked with sorrow, and he sniffles once. "They took our little boy... and we want him back!"

...

And there's the first chunk of development haha. It wasn't obvious from... everything I do lmao, the kidnapped baby warframe they're looking for is Megatron 🤭

#what do i tag this as lmao #cybertronian trafficking #press f for megatron im about to dump sooo much trauma on him >:)

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kirbyofthestars · 1 year ago

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Do you think mecha knight was programmed to run doom

yes. miss secretary haltmann spared no expense

#letterbox

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savage-kult-of-gorthaur · 6 months ago

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A DECADES YEAR OLD ROBOT THAT HASN'T AGED A DAY -- THE FACE OF CUTTING EDGE INCARNATE.

PIC(S) INFO: Mega spotlight on film stills of Canadian actress Sabrina Grdevich as Sheila the mecha secretary (a.k.a. Gynoid/Fembot), a taste of the visual FX artistry from the American science fiction film "A.I.: Artificial Intelligence" (2001), written & directed by Steven Spielberg.

"The idea that A.I. could be developed to such an extent was total fairy tale 30 years ago, as it is today,” says Jan Harlan, Kubrick’s brother-in-law and longtime producer, in an email. I asked Harlan why he thought Kubrick became so obsessed with this story. ""Obsessed" is the wrong word,” he says. ""In loving search for a story worth telling on the screen" is better.""

-- THE RINGER, "From Kubrick to Spielberg: The Story of "A.I.,"" by Tim Greiving, June, 2021

Sources: www.inverse.com/article/9529-spielberg-s-a-i-artificial-intelligence-feels-right-despite-bad-science, IMDb, Ford on Film, various, etc...

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osakanone · 1 year ago

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Thinking about mechanical design again: Thoughts on self-altering dynamic form, and proportion designs

I like the idea of something which has big big shapes which can be very heroic and knight-like as we see in mecha anime, but something small and compact enough to enter human spaces and be spoken to as a character, like a friend of sorts.

Something which can be that big lean mighty form, but can also fit into something like a decently sized room with wider doors, and converse, so we're not entirely limited to "gigantic city-scapes", and we can have more intimate encounters in more intimate spaces.

The result is something which merges power-armour with mecha into something which isn't really one or the other.

I had a strange epiphany a few years ago and I used to experiment with sketches, and I decided to revisit them and try something a little different.

The thought was something like, "how can I have a vehicle which can be both really dense for tight spaces, but also really lean and heroic looking in open spaces?"

So we go from something very Heavy Gear like, or Votoms like, to something more Nagano'ish, with leaner more heroic less soldier-ly shapes and more buccaneer or ballet-dancer.

The conclusion I came to made me think of armatures and mannequins used in tapestry which are designed to change shape and adjust.

The initial thought was, that the gimmick would need to first be the core: That the posture of the upper and lower (green and purple) would depending on the tilt, alter the altitude or height of the core which in turn has knock-on effects changing what's "normal" about the shape of the core:

With one posture being based on that of sitting in an office chair (short-form)

And the other, that of riding a horse (long-form)

I think if this were a quad, it'd really be ldeal for ground movement.

I pretty quickly noticed, by varying the length of the legs on a linear joint, and with very minor work of the feet, we start getting variable mannequin style armatures.

The only difference? Change the plating on top, kind of like dressup to help soften the oddities.

There's a few other gimmicks we can kind of hide in these forms too. Say, the fact the feet flatten out into big snow-shoe like shapes, or up into big heels has implications of function -- going from land-like to something like aircraft landing-gear, poised and ready.

The same is true of the knee sliding up and down on linear joints to extend the legs: I can imagine something like a secretary bird's powerful kick or to wallkick off of surfaces, or to absorb incredible landing pressures.

The stancing isn't exactly great: The ankles for the long posture really need to widen, to sit beneath the shoulders to balance things out.

See here, how by splitting the thigh up (as we see in designs like L-Gaim MK II) we start to see as secondary leg structure emerge, where the knee is inside the former thigh?

That is to say, we're getting more movability, which becomes important as designs become more squat, making good strides and having good affordance gets much much harder.

Note here, the leg straightens out somewhat as it assumes the fuller posture, wheras toward the reduced posture it becomes denser and thicker, overlapping somewhat akin to the designs of something like Armored Core's 5th generation.

I think if the leg structure were split into grills or fins a la Turn-A Gundam, a much cleaner overlap stack could be achieved, with less of this excess volume produced by virtue of the elements being excluded from one another?

Thinking about it...

The result then is a sort of new form of posture expression.

A machine which with very minor differences crosses from American and European percieved averages (I emphasize percieved since these are largely stereotypes based in audience preferences -- there's actually no such thing as eastern vs western mechanical design due to how interbred it is, which I'll touch on another time) to those we see in Japanese work.

Curious to know anybody elses thoughts.

I was also thinking this too actually, so the leg can be flat. You'd get a surprisingly good road vehicle, which when it needs to climb, it rises up on its feet, but on flat, it can cruise quite comfortable at a really low height.

Something like this, I'd imagine? I think if the hip joint allows, rotating to put the foot forward would make even more sense, with the knee facing back.

#mecha design #mecha

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tsunflowers · 2 years ago

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terrible news I downloaded kisekae again and I can't stop making ocs in it

I made a post about most of them here but here's the new ones

starshine - ambiguously lesbian duo - white star shaped ring that gives her light powers - shared mascot with moonglow

theater kid. convinced she’s too much for moonglow who is cool and seems self-assured. her and moonglow are genuinely kind of obsessed with each other but are also playing it up for the audience in a big way and are extremely insecure about their relationship. they probably don’t even talk that much outside the arena. has to hold hands with moonglow to use her powers. the re:vale of magical girls

moonglow - ambiguously lesbian duo - black moon shaped ring that gives her darkness powers - shared mascot with starshine

lone wolf type. convinced she’s too boring and gloomy for starshine who is vibrant and talkative. writes electronic music and has a moderate following online but is terrified to talk about it to anyone in her real life. loves obscure fantasy novels and anime. she has no idea how she reads to other people and lots of people have crushes on her but she can’t comprehend that

R-FLIGHTFORM - mecha musume - silver gun that lets her control gravity - ufo mascot

has been described as unfun, boring, allergic to fun, etc. physics major. mad all the time bc her magic powers defy the laws of physics. one of the first to suspect something’s up with the showrunners but she doesn’t tell anyone bc she wants to have empirical evidence first. why is she even doing all this? grad school is expensive. the r is supposed to be like in the big o but I feel like it makes her seem like a reddit board so she might need to drop it

then the infamous showrunners who are demons from another world trying to get everyone on earth with magic powers to play their little games in the magical girl arena so they won't be able to use the magic against the demons when they take over. the demon world is kind of like the magic world from dorohedoro in that it fucking sucks and people are always getting turned into mushrooms and bugs and shit and if you turn on the tv it’s only static and scraping metal noises but people just live there like it’s normal. the human world is only one of many worlds the demons have access to so it’s not that exciting to them. they can tell some of their magic is bleeding into it but they’re kind of self-centered and don’t think that’s a big deal

hikold

demons are supposed to do something big every century. your first two are just about growing up and finding yourself but after that everyone expects you to get something done. hikold did not do that for her 300th year and everyone made fun of her ever since so that’s why she’s decided to pop over to the human world and subjugate them. acts extremely serious while in her human disguise bc it’s her idea of professionalism but as soon she she reverts to demon form she becomes a sleazy businessman (female). everyone calls her sir even though she’s a woman. she loves gambling

ixn

I couldn’t decide if I wanted her to be a teen or a small adult so I made up some demon bullshit. demons are technically mature at 100 but don’t fully join society until around 200 when they decide what their Thing is going to be. ixn is sort of the demon equivalent of a college freshman, technically an adult but older adults don’t see her that way. she helps to design the matches and does the online marketing. she did the emceeing too before ririmi took over. her and ririmi are pretty close and she always keeps track of everything new she learns about ririmi in case she can use it against her in the future but she doesn’t realize that after a while she’s only doing it bc she likes ririmi and wants to be friends. cringe!

mazka

shes the sexy one. the relationship between her and hikold can’t be described in words. their personas as sexy secretary and sleazy boss are compatible but they also hate each other so it’s like, hikold looks down mazka’s top when mazka brings her coffee, but mazka poisoned the coffee, but hikold knew mazka poisoned the coffee so she pours it out in the office plant mazka is growing. this is demon flirting. mazka is the costume designer for the magical girl arena. she always says shit like ufufu. she flirts with everyone she knows but if she truly hates someone she just doesn’t talk to them at all. which is how you know she enjoys her weird ass sexy rivalry with hikold

currently the only official ships are hikold/mazka and avery/evelyn. I think ixn/michelle might be but I havent decided yet

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nawapon17 · 4 months ago

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Mechanical issue halts Rubio’s C-32 flight to Europe

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satorena · 1 year ago

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❛ UNPROFESSIONALISM ! ❜

⟡ content warnings. explicit content. foul language. ceo!satoru. secretary!reader. mentioned past flings. fondlīng. fīngerīng. afab!reader. p in v. unprotected. brēēding. squīrtīng. gojo satoru is his own damn warning. 4.9k.

⟡ serena's note. oh if y’all knew the lengths i went thru just to post this damn fic. . .

“ugh, this is such a painnn!”

“the sooner you finish your paperwork, the sooner you’re off, sir.” you sigh, arms crossed over your chest. you’re used to your boss’ childish antics by now, having worked side by side with him for nearly a year. you check the time on your watch, “work ended about half an hour ago— you might want to hurry up.”

“but y/n!” he drags out your name, voice all whiny and pitched in a telltale manner. he pushes himself off away from his desk, chair rolling back from the impact as he lolls his head back. “this shit is sooo lame. didn’t i hire nanamin to take care of the boring stuff? how come he isn’t here handling this god forsaken load of terrorizing agony?!”

you click your tongue, clutching tighter at the clipboard in your hold. you wonder if he’d been dropped on the head as a child, his lack of self-awareness so painful it makes you reconsider if the check at the end of the week is ever worth it. “he’s scheduled the week off to keep his wife and newborn in check. he signed off about a month ago.”

he snaps his head up so quickly, you’re positive he’s gotten whiplash. gojo blinks at you through big blue eyes and snowy lashes, a dumbfounded look on his face. he lifts his index to scratch at the corner of his lips, and cocks his head to the side, “ahh. . . ‘s that right? wait— nanamin’s a dad?!”

you feel the vein in your head inevitably tick.

“sir,” you let out an exhausted sigh, completely baffled by his ineptitude. he must purposely choose to do this to you, there’s simply no other explanation. “we attended his wife’s baby shower a few months ago—the one you mistook for a bachelor party and had me escorting the escorts back home.” you lift your pointer finger, brows cinched as the memory burns into your mind. he tilts his head to the side, affirming the idea of his cluelessness even more.

you raised a second finger, “we showed up to the hospital to congratulate them on their baby— and you got them that ridiculous cutout board of yourself that sings when you press on the—”

“the button on my dick, yeah!” gojo cackles as if it’s the funniest story ever, as if you hadn’t need to dump a bucket of water on the cutout figure to get it to shut up before he could get his company sued for emotional distress.

you huff, the stressful reminder of that unfortunate day having you anxiously tugging at the hem of your skirt, “yep. that’s the one.” between the baby’s obnoxious cries and exaggerated mecha-gojo moans, you’d rather not think about that encounter.

“and this whole time i figured she was his sister,” gojo snorts, wiping a faux tear from the corner of his eye. he sighs when his laughter dies down, and pulls him chair back into his desk. “man, his wife’s a babe. guess that explains why she looked at me all crazy when i called her fine the other day.”

“you sure that’s the only reason?” you mutter under your breath, the insult flowing off your tongue so naturally that you couldn’t help stopping it, even if you wanted to. that man was all kinds of deranged, his ego and head much bigger than it needed to be.

“ouch, that’s mean, doll.” gojo pouts, clutching at the material of his blazer above his heart. the back of his free hand lands on his forehead as he dramatically leans back into his seat. his eyelids shut tightly, “you’re wounding me. ‘m too young to die. i can’t go on like this— tell my mother i loved her. sign off my will for me, wouldya? make sure to terrorize nanamin some more. oh, and empty out all my search histories. wouldn’t wanna ruin my reputation. and get rid of my porn magazines beneath my bed. ‘ve got some pretty nasty stuff there. and check up on my kid every now and then. and—”

“alright, alright. i apologize.” you cut his rambling off before it spiralled into something far worse. there’s a full headache throbbing at your temple, your feet ache from your heels, and your stomach rumbles in hunger. you’re ready to go home now, but that won’t be possible unless your big man baby of a boss finishes up his task. “i’m sure you’ve a very suitable man. many would be grateful to have you. my apologies, sir.”

he peeks through an eye, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. his beaten-puppy look is quickly replaced by one you know far too well now— the look he gets after beating his rival company in terms of stock. the look he gets after successfully shitting on his higher ups. the look he gets after getting you to cum on his fingers after a long day— you’ve stroked his ego. “i’ve trained you well, princess. always flattering me, ohh, however did i get so lucky?”

whatever have you done to get so unlucky? “time’s ticking, sir. you can’t afford to pick up megumi late from practice again.”

“nanamin’s wife might be a babe, but you’re a gem, y’know?” your boss entirely ignores you, leaning his elbow onto the pile of work he’s now completely erased from his existence. he leans his cheek into his palm, fingertips tapping at the side of his head. “one helluva girl. i mean it— i really lucked out with ya.”

you cross your leg over the other, shifting your hips over the suede material of his couch. you recognize the sultry undertone to his voice, and your clear your throat, “is that so?”

gojo chuckles, flashing you all thirty two teeth, “i mean it’s not everyday you find a woman with your patience. god, you must be in love with me or something.”

you roll your eyes, despite the small smile that creeps up on your lips, “that’s certainly not why i stayed,” which wasn’t entirely true, but it’s not as if you haven’t inflated his ego enough today. “you may be a handful but your pockets sure are generous.”

“wouldn’t kill you to make a guy feel good about himself from time to time, ya know?” he fiddled the black pen between his fingers, twirling the object from knuckle to knuckle. he pauses when you don’t answer, noticing you noticing his finger movements. and so he proceeds with a smirk, “you’re always so tense all the time. . . tell me, when’s the last time you’ve been properly fucked?”

you nearly lose the grip on your clipboard at his audacity, the question throwing you off guard. though, you quickly keep composure— a fierce facade that’s always labelled you as the calm and collected kind. though, you’re doubtful it worked against your own boss.

“that’s an unprofessional question, sir.” you grit through teeth, nails scratching at the wooden back of your board. highly hypocritical of yourself, as you’re absolutely no better than he is— having already opened a window of no return that fateful night you accepted his invite to come inside his home.

“pretty sure we’re past unprofessionalism.” he pushes himself off of his desk, rising to his feet. your eyes trail his movements, from the index finger that hooks at his tie to loosen the knot, to the cock of his head to the side that has his hair bouncing, to the sound of expensive shoes clicking with every stride closer to you.

his presence can be oddly intimidating at times— you’ve noticed while working with him for a while. there’re moments like whenever he steps up on a podium in front of thousands of people, or when the elevator doors slide open and presents him to the building. despite his childish antics, he exudes an aura so enchanting that serves as reminder of that at the end of the day, he’s the boss.

you swallow, eyes following his lean figure until he stops right before you. it’s hard to read him in moments like these, when he’s so unlike himself (or maybe finally truly himself). his hands sit in the pockets of his slacks, legs parted enough to entrap your own legs between his, as he tilts his head forward. his irises darken behind tinted shades, bangs curtaining the raise of an eyebrow.

“unprofessional?” he repeats, and your eyes narrow at him, subconsciously gripping at your board tighter. it’s the only thing that you seem to have control over, since it clearly wouldn’t be this conversation. “you mean like that time i had you creamin’ all over my fingers in the back of my car? or unprofessional like that time you bent over my desk and came all over my face? or was it that night when i had to tie your hands together to keep you from runnin’ away?”

your gaze flickers away from his, the heat of embarrassment creeping from your neck all the way to your face. he wasn’t wrong— your relationship with him had passed morally ethical the moment you pulled him in closer to kiss you instead of pushing him away.

“we’re still at work.” you quip, the last bit of resolve tattering away the longer you feel his eyes on you. your roll your ankle nervously, thighs tightening against another.

“work ended half an hour ago sweetheart, remember?” he reminds you, voice as taunting as ever, and you sure as hell don’t need to see him to know he’s smirking. right side of his lips pulled with a moon crescent dimple on the side— he’s making fun of you. “forgettin’ already? can’t have my adorable secretary so overwhelmed that it’s meltin’ her brain. that should be my dick’s doing only, of course.”

you click your tongue, eyes casting back up to stare him dead in the eye. naturally, he’s already meeting your own, with the same damn smirk you’d predicted, “you have paperwork to finish, sir. better get on that quickly.”

“oh?” he laughs at your command, pulling his hands out of his pockets to rest at his hips. he runs his tongue against the top row of his teeth, and you hate the way your mind instantly travels back to days prior when you’d once had that same tongue working in and out of you.

he hums in faux thought, tapping his index against his chin. his lips fall into a pout before instantly stretching back to its default state, his infamous smile, “i suppose you’re right. come help me finish then, hmm? teamwork makes the dream work.”

you’re skeptical— you know him too well, but you’d rather divert the focus of attention from you to those papers. anything to prevent your mind from wandering off further into endless unprofessional possibilities. “lead the way, boss.”

he curtsies dramatically as you rise to your feet, stomping over to his desk. you notice he’s got shit done, and you’ll most likely be here for a minute. and so, you stand next to the chair he’d abandoned and pick up the pen, waiting for him to sit so you both could get started.

only you should’ve known you’d fallen right into his trap the minute you agreed to his ridiculous offer. you feel him pressed up behind you, lurking over your shoulder to study whatever you had going on. he’s unreasonably tall, frame so large it has you feeling frail in his presence, and his cologne so strong you feel it already clouding your judgement.

damn it all.

clicking your tongue, you tilt your head to the side to narrow your eyes, “well? are you not going to sit?”

gojo blinks at you, “how come? i enjoy the view here much better anyway.”

you roll your eyes, before turning back to his desk. he was a complete idiot if he thought you hadn’t already anticipated his next moves. the more your wrist flexes, mumbling the words you read on your sheets as you write them down, the more you felt him. you could feel the back of your thighs meeting the from of his, you could feel his bulge rubbing at your ass, you could feel his warm breath fanning at the slope of your neck.

damn it all.

“sales have risen to a—ahhn!” your pen falters in your grip, scribbling on the white sheet as it hits the desk. your eyelids shut close, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as a warm mouth kisses at that sensitive spot behind your ear. your palm lays flat against the surface of the table, side by side with gojo’s, body tensing as his mouth trails down lower.

“oh you bastard,” you mutter, shaky hand attempting to grab the pen in an unsteady hold. his chuckle rumbles deep from his chest, and you feel the vibrations against your back. you’re determined to stand your ground, despite the urge to push your hips back into him. he may have soft lips and an annoyingly hot voice, but you would not falter— no matter the moisture of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

you think you have it set in stone, the pen in your hold— albeit unsteady— despite his large hand creeping up your thigh. every trail of his touch leaves an electrifying feeling, and you’re sure he’s noticed your trembling knees if the way he subtly slid his leg in between yours to keep you steady said anything.

it’s when you’re ready to scribble out your mistake to replace it that he decides to plunge his canines to your jugular. the moan that erupts from you is squeaky, your hand clutching tightly at the pen as your back arches into his chest from the painful pleasure.

gojo nibbles and sucks at your skin, running his tongue over the throbbing area to soothe the pain, fingers trailing closer to your now aching core. you’re positive your skirt has now hiked up with how much your hips are pushing back into his, head lolled forward.

“aweee, what’s the matter sweetheart? ‘s too much for you already?” gojo coos, sultry voice sending chills from the shell of your ear down to your core, finally slipping his hand inside of your skirt. his fingertips brush at your clothed clit, the material of your thong shamefully damp in arousal. you huff, nails scratching at his desktop when his index and middle finger rub painfully slow circles at your clit. “but we’ve barely done anything? tsk, can’t afford slowing the company down because you’re too distracted to focus.”

your thighs and arms threaten to give out, body heating with lust and desire. you want to say you hate this, that this is against your typical work ethics, to tell him to fuck off and do the work himself. but the focus on your pussy really has you melting puddle, bottom lip tugged on to suppress any louder sounds to escape.

“y-you’re the worst.” you complain, though it fades into another moan when he pushes his thigh up in between your legs. you’re internally thankful, because had this gone any further, you’re certain you would’ve sunken to the floor.

“love you too, pretty girl.” he presses a kiss at your jaw, fingers pushing past your panties. fuck any resolve you’d held onto— you chuck the pen far away, planting both palms down as you allowed him to take control. every rub of his fingers at your clit had you dripping down his thigh, to where your hips shifted and rolled down his leg, dragging out that blissful heat in your gut.

“givin’ up already? y’didn’t put much of a fight this time, can’t say i’m a disappointed.” his free hand grips at your thigh and trails up to your hips, resting at your flesh to guide you down his leg. he’s all too enthralled by your sensitivity, gaze zeroed in on your expressions— from the slackness at your jaw to the way your brows furrow.

“just h-hurry up already,” you grit, eyelashes fluttering as your eyelids lift. your gaze meets his instantly, and gulp at the hungry look in his eyes. his skin is already flushed pink, lips parted as he pants heavily. “you’re no—ngh, better than i am, dickhead.”

“well aren��t ya damn mouthy,” gojo acknowledged, though clearly unbothered, as his fingers pinch at that bundle of nerve. you gasp, cunt clenching as it leaks more of your essence down on him. your head drops back against his shoulder, the slope of your back curving as you grip onto the closest thing in your vicinity— the hem of his blazer. “hm, whatever happened to my obedient secretary? always so polite and respectful, don’t tell me i haven’t trained you enough?”

“m-maybe you haven’t,” you pant, chest heaving as you feel his fingertips teasing the entrance of your folds. they’re slow movements, applying just enough pressure to ignite the spark in your guts but not enough to leave you wanting more. “can’t even do your damn j-job right and you call yourself boss? hah, wonder if mister geto would have this issue— fuuuck!”

“low fuckin’ blow, sweets.” gojo chuckles darkly, now two fingers knuckle deep in your cunt. he wastes no time to plunge himself inside, knuckles rubbing at your velvety walls. you clamp down on his digits, desperate to keep him in for the sake of that orgasm you craved. “and here i was ready to put this pretty pussy in my mouth. you’re dickless for a few days and catch an attitude wimme? that’s cold, baby.”

“dickless?” you cock a brow, teeth gritting as you focus all your energy left on delivering your next line. he always got so cocky whenever he had a slight advantage. “a-according to who—ooh, god, shit!”

“ooh god, shit!” gojo mocks you, a third finger now joining the others. he scissors your cunt open, the slick of your arousal simplifying the slide in. you’re dripping down to his palm, so wet despite the front you’re putting up. he knows you love it whenever he angles his fingers at this angle, the one that has you knees weak and ready to fold. “face it sweets, i’m the only one who treats this pussy the way it deserves. see how well she responds to me?”

and you wish you could negate or deny him, but unfortunately, you both know he’s correct. he’s only got his fingers inside of you and you’re already at your limit. your hips eagerly chase his fingers whenever he pulls out just to thrust them back in, the pad of his thumb drawing infinity signs at your clit. your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, knot in your tummy tightening from the stimulation.

“nghhh, ‘m gonna cum,” your hand slides down the slope of his forearm till where his wrist begins. you claw at the bone, clutching and grabbing at him eagerly. damn him and his damned fingers— driving you to mush with all six inches. “more, hah, need more— gimme more!”

“manners, pretty baby.” gojo coos at your ear, despite upping his pace. his hands reach all the right spots, pussy desperate to hold out to his fingers as they fuck your cunt open, soaking the digits in your slick. “c’mon girl, what’s the magic word? i know you’ve got it in you.”

“p-please! pleasepleaseplease—” you’re cut off by your own gasp as the dam in your stomach finally breaks. you leak on his fingers, squirting your juices as your muscles convulse, walls entrapping him in. your back arches away from him and you grasp at anything in your reach, your mouth gaped. you’re cussing like a sailor, vision blacked out beneath your eye lids as your hips twitch and stutter against gojo’s ruthless pace.

your high washes down, as you lose feeling in your limbs, falling face down to the desk. your skin is moist with heat, mouth parted as drool coats the abandoned paperwork beneath you. your body twitches with oversensitivity, thighs quaking as your last few spurts spray all over gojo’s thigh.

“don’t tell me you’re all worn out from a little foreplay?” your boss teases, his free hand delivering a blow onto your ass cheek. it recoils as you jolt, snivelling like a baby. you hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, slacks falling next and pooling at his ankles. the next few moments happen in a blur, but sooner than you’d realized, you’d been turned onto your back with your legs propped over his shoulders and your folds were being played with again, the overstimulation having your toes curling in your heels.

“anddd there we go,” gojo strokes at his bricked cock, your essence serving as lube to coat his dick. he drags his fist from the base of his shaft to the tip, both your fluids and his pre cum mixture softening the jerk. “you fuckin’ water park. jeez, maybe i should plug this tiny cunt to prevent any further leakage, yeah?”

“fucking hurry already!” you don’t whine, or so you hope, though the grip of your legs at the back of his neck does tighten. with your skirt hiked up and your panties pushed to the side, gojo has a clear view of your twitching pussy, a hole designated intentionally just for him. he can already feel the cum in his balls ready to burst and fill your womb.

“and back to mouthy she goes,” he chuckles, using the leverage of his hand at his cock to slap his dick at your folds. the impact causes you to whimper, your hands clutching at the border of the desk. you wish you could wipe that smirk off his face, but fuck if the way he didn’t rub himself against you arouse you in ways that would surely haunt you after the orgasmic high faded away.

“take a deep breath for me baby, kay?” gojo instructs, thumb brushing over the skin above your hip bone, and before you’re able to retaliate, he slides in his dick.

his length is nothing to scoff at, and although you’ve already dealt with it in the past, all that prepping he’d done earlier seemed in vain. he bottoms out quickly, balls deep into you cunt. both your moans blend in harmony, overlapping one another as you settle with the aching stretch. your pussy clenches around his cock uncontrollably, both eager to push and pull him away.

“shittttt,” he whines throatily despite the huge grin on his lips. the flush pampering his skin has gotten significantly deeper, pale brows furrowed to the centre of his forehead. his hands grip at your plush thighs, fingers digging deep into your skin, surely enough to leave bruises. the bastard— he knew you’d be forced to wear your own slacks tomorrow to avoid suspicions.

“no fuckin’ way ‘m already set to bust— hah, fuck, what in the magical pussy is this?” gojo groans, snowy hair bouncing with his head thrown back. the tighter you grip at his cock, the tighter he grips at your thighs and the deeper his breaths are.

you push yourself up to your elbows, giggling at the irony of the situation. “already huh? so it wasn’t the liquor’s fault last time.” surely you were no better, entirely stimulated and body excreting all kinds of fluids from all over, but the ball was now in your court, and you planned on taking advantage. “s-should’ve known.”

naturally, he doesn’t rise to your bait, instead moving his hips away from yours, slowly dragging his cock out until the only part left in your cunt is his pink tip. “don’t make me make you eat your words, sweets.”

you raise your hand and rest it right above his pelvis, eyes set straight on his. you’re both clearly eager and ready to go, but you still had your dignity to uphold. you drag your palm upwards his torso, nails trailing up his button-up top teasingly before clutching at his tie. with the strength left in you, you yank him down and closer to you.

the shift in position stirs his dick in your cunt, knees now pressed closer to your chest. he hovers over you, a newfound look in his eyes you aren’t ready to divulge into—he was a very expressive man after all. both your lips ghosts one over another, breaths hot and mingling. you feel fuzzy, all senses fucked but collectively drawing at a same conclusion: wanting him to fuck your brains out on this desk.

“fuckin’ hell that was sexy.” it almost comes off a whisper, his tone breathless as his eyes bare deep into your. you feel the warmth of his hands fading away in favour to cup at your waist.

you tilt your head to the side, nose grazing against his. your fingers fiddle with the hem of his tie, despite never breaking the eye contact. “you gonna rock my world now?”

nothing more has to be said as he engulfs your mouth into his, knocking the wind out of you. his tongue explores the warm cave of your mouth, no inch left untouched. you moan and kiss him back just as eagerly, sliding the hand from his neck tie to his nape. your fingers thread through his soft locks, nails scratching his scalp and tugging at the roots.

he whimpers pathetically, the pain sending courses of arousal straight to his dick as his hips slam right back against yours. his thrust is rough and deep— leaving you gasping, as he takes the opportunity to kiss you even deeper while simultaneously working on his strokes.

the curve of his cock reaches even deeper than his fingers could manage, rubbing at your gummy walls and stretching them even wider. the sounds of your bodies connecting, your skins slapping, both your fluids mixing— everything felt so wanton, so filthy. he was everywhere, so far in your stomach you swear you could feel him in your throat.

the stretch of his cock at your pussy sent a fiery feeling spreading towards all of your limbs. the squelching of your pussy tightening and clenching at his dick filling the room. he soon picked up his pace, railing into you with every fibre in his body, loving the way your body bounced up in reaction to his thrusts.

“s-shit, oh fuck— don’t stop, ngh, right there!” you begged, throwing your head back against the hard surface. you’d given up on trying to keep your eyes open, the intensity of his dick ramming into your guts so fierce, you’d never felt anything like it.

he takes a sharp inhale of breath, followed by a whiny exhale. you were driving him insane, your sloppy cunt greedily clamping on his dick as if it were its lifeline. “suckin’ me in so tight, shitttt baby, ‘s like you want me to fill this perfect pussy full of my nut.” he dives his tongue deeper into your mouth for extra measure. you’re in a turmoil of multiple emotions at once but you kiss him back— until your lips feel tender and your mouth tastes of his breath.

he was annoyingly intoxicating, whether you wanted to admit it or not. your body spoke every word you were ashamed to say, responding with his own almost too perfectly.

when he slips his thumb to toy at your clit, your toes curl in your shoes and you’re accustomed to the oncoming feeling all too well, nails clawing at his skin. your words come out all fumbled mixed with tongue and drool, “s-satoru, i— ‘m gonna, don’t you stop— fuck ‘s too much— hnng!” you pull away just slightly, eyes all dazed as they roll to the back of your skull.

“shit, oh shit, me too,” he swipes at the drool dribbling past your mouth. from there, he plants more kisses at your skin, nibbling at every inch of you. he’s rutting like a madman, pace unforgiving as he focuses on that same spot that has you mindless. he finds you prettiest when you’re this way— all obedient for him. “my pretty girl— where do i— fuck, where—”

“inside.” as if you’d wanted to kill him, just as quick the word left your lips, he emptied his balls in your cunt. he sobs, his orgasm wracking over his entire body as he slams and fills your pussy full of him. the mixture of sounds is downright sinful, and whether it’d been the focus on your clit or his inhumane stamina, you soon met your similar end.

you cream on his dick once more, legs trembling as your second orgasm washes over you. your mind gone dumb, you do nothing but lay as you take the pounding inflicted on your worn out pussy. with each stroke you see stars, breasts juggling at the match of his pace. it’s damn near painful, but in the best enjoyable way. you feel yourself getting fuller by the second as you spray more of your arousal onto him.

the high eventually comes down for you both, the room reeking of sex. you’re both panting heavily, muscles twitching from overexertion. you couldn’t recall the last time you’d been fucked to the point of a momentary blackout— but you’d be damned if you’d ever let him know. he was too busy crying over your cunt anyways.

after a moment of silence, “. . .shit.”

“what?” you hum tiredly, rubbing the back of your hand to your tired hands. god, you could barely muster enough energy to do just that. what did this man eat?

he skips a few beats, before sheepishly chuckling, the hand that’d once been tracing patterns at the skin of your thighs now moving to your side. your gaze follows his movements, and it’s only when he retracts his hand does your heart sink to your chest.

“we definitely fucked these papers up.”

. . . shit.

io baby.. if you ever end up reading this i did it :c

#rena☆star.#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n

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