#also YES this applies to the final boss too!

[getvalentined]

Can I gush for a second about the use of pokeballs in Pokemon Scarlet/Violet to indicate characterization? I'm sure this has been brought up many times before by people more dedicated to the series as a whole than me, but I'm really delighted by this particular detail, so: let's talk about Team Star.

—

Mela is only seen with a quick ball, which works better when used immediately during an encounter with a wild pokemon. It's what you use if you want to get it over with. Mela is hotheaded, impatient, and prone to jumping the gun. She likes to gets things over with fast so she can get back to he own life before she gets too annoyed.

—

Atticus is seen using a repeat ball, which works best on pokemon that have been caught by the trainer multiple times before. This is for people who like to have make sure that they have the best pokemon for a given situation, perfecting their choice over time through a combination of training and selection. Atticus is patient and detail-oriented, and he works in the design and creation of clothing, which requires dozens of mockups and modifications to get right. He'll go through a hundred shirt designs that aren't quite right before finally producing the one that is.

—

Ortega is shown with a luxury ball, which is extremely expensive but immediately increases the friendship of any pokemon caught with it. This is for people that like to work with the "hard customers" of the pokedex without necessarily having to go through all the hard work to get those pokemon to like them. Ortega is extremely wealthy, but he very clearly values his friends more than his position: he's not a classic spoiled brat, using what he has to make things easier for the people he cares about. If I had to guess, I'd say his love language is gift giving.

—

Giacomo uses a timer ball, which works better the more turns have elapsed in a given encounter. This is for trainers that don't give up when they want to catch a specific monster, those who are willing to wait take their time if it means they get what they want. Giacomo is patient, has an excellent concept of strategy, and is willing to take as long as he has to in order to get where he wants to be.

—

Eri uses a heal ball, which instantly heals any pokemon put in it. This is for trainers that focus really heavily on the health of their pokemon, those who want to make sure that they're always at their best. Eri is fiercely protective of the people she cares about, to the point of standing guard at the gate of her base herself so that none of her people are put in danger. Her biggest concern is the health and safety of the people around her, regardless of the toll protecting that might take on her own.

—

In contrast to these five, the Big Boss of Team Star uses normal pokeballs. Because they're nothing special, and at first glance the boss isn't either—but when it all comes down to it, this is a character that is dedicated, steadfast and reliable, the one that started everything for Team Star and the one that everyone comes back to in the end. Out of context, them using normal pokeballs doesn't seem to mean anything, but when put against the backdrop of the rest of the team, it's as indicative of character as all the rest.

[fingertipsmp3]

I hate how not over-explaining & justifying myself (when I literally don’t need to) feels rude

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine Shanks finding out you're a painter

You: *humming along to some music as you apply a fresh coat of paint to the wall of the galley*

Benn and Lucky Roux: *walk in*

Benn: Hey Kid.

You: Hey

Lucky Roux: Did you make sure to use the mold resistant paint?

You: Yes Roux.

Benn: And you applied the sealant before the paint?

You: *nods your head* And the primer, I got this man, thanks for checking in on me.

Benn: Alright then, I'm just gonna open this here winder to get some fresh air in here, so you don't get high off the paint fumes.

You: aww, but that's the best part.

Lucky Roux: *snorts* Let me know when you're done, so I can start dinner. Also, when you are done, you might want to put up a barrier, so none of the others accidentally lean on it.

You: I enjoy seeing them covered in paint. So I think they're gonna be in for a surprise, or at least the boss will be. Because I bet you a thousand berry that he's definitely gonna lean in the paint.

Lucky Roux: I'll take that bet.

Benn: I ain't, because he'll definitely gonna do it.

The next morning

Shanks: *Still annoyed that he got paint in his hair the night before* is this shit finally dry?

Benn: yeah, the kid didn't paint in straight lines though.

Shanks: what! But they're usually so meticulous about doing tasks perfectly.

Benn: it was on purpose too, take a close look.

Shanks: *leans in and glides his fingers across a floral design in the brush strokes* do you think they like painting?

Benn: I believe so, that, or they inhaled too much paint fumes and decided to have fun with it.

Shanks: both are possible... Didn't they repaint the hallway, and bathrooms?

Benn: yeah? They painted patterns there too.

Weeks later

Shanks: Hey (y/n) I got you something! *Presents you with a colorful variety of house paints, and a bunch of supplies*

You: ... Wow, that's a lot of paint, are you wanting me to repaint every room on the ship?

Shanks: no silly, for you to have fun with. We noticed the patterns you painted in the galley and thought you might like more colors.

You: but where would I paint?

Shanks: where ever you'd like.

You: *Kisses him on the cheek, scoops up the supplies, and runs to your room*, Thank you!

Two days later in the galley

You: I finished my room is it okay if I paint this wall now?

Shanks: Go for it.

Benn: *watches you run off* they painted their whole room you know.

Shanks: I saw, I was impressed they managed to paint such steady line work with the ship moving so much.

Benn: I think the little maze design the pained on their door frame was my favorite. Do you think they take requests?

Shanks: I dunno.

You: *pushes the box of supplies onto one of the tables*

Benn: is it okay if I asked you to paint something?

You: sure!

Yassop: Wait, you take requests! I want the pillar in my room painted.

The crew: *crowd around you listing off the things they want painted*

Shanks: Guys, let em breathe for fuck's sake! Make a list so they can start painting.

Lucky Roux: I ain't writing down my request because it's simple, don't paint any more realistic bug on the damn walls. I nearly shit myself when I saw the cockroach you painted in the bathroom, that was not a fun surprise at three in the morning.

You: only termite holes, got it.

Lucky Roux: (y/n) no! No termite holes.

You: fine fine, although the fact that the paint on that cockroach didn't even get to dry before one of y'all smacked it, is hilarious.

Shanks: no more realistic bugs, dear, in fact avoid painting realistic critters all together please.

You: ugh fine.

Shanks: I have a project I'd like you to paint, but I'll need to get you a canvas for it. *Winks at you and wiggles his eyebrows*

Benn: Gross.... if he's getting a nude I want one too.

Shanks: You want my nudes too?

Benn: I want a nude of myself, ding-dong.

List of Up-and-coming works

Support me on Kofi and Patreon

[starlightsuffered]

Long Healed

Info - worker and boss relationship, worker reader, self harm scars, injury

I was racing around the Candy room. When Willy was really focused, he was like a surgeon. He’d call out for something and I’d need to grab it immediately and hand it to him.

“Maple leaf picked on the fifteenth day of fall,” he requested.

I went to the plants section and looked by day and type. When I got back the concoction was a lilac colour and the steam was coming up in cumulus looking clouds.

“Here,” I handed it to him. He grabbed it with tweezers.

It was wild because he even looked dashing in his lab coat and those ridiculous safety goggles.

“Tuft of hair from the beard of the 13th Billy goat in the flock,” Willy asked next.

I got the fluff and handed it to him. He took it and it made the candy mixture smell like spice. He was stirring carefully.

Other pipettes were boiling with other mixtures. I could hear the ticks and whirs of other devices working. Something in the corner was creating a new version of fairy floss. Taffy was being pulled by the stretching machine.

It was always so warm and cozy in here compared to the frigid outdoors. It was comfortable and homey. I was glad Willy had asked me to live here. I hadn’t had much of a place to stay before now. I also knew he lived here, and having someone else in the large factory made me happy.

I hadn’t had the most pleasant life. Things had been very hard before I’d been hired by Willy. I often thought of him as an angel. He was always so sweet and gentle with me. He forwarded my soverigns when I needed, and if I broke things he didn’t take it out or my paycheck.

“Please stir this while I prepare the dry ingredients,” Wonka requested.

“Yes sir,” I agreed readily.

I began to turn the spoon counterclockwise as he had. I hummed lightly as I did it. I looked over at the wall. I noticed the artists rendition of Willy’s mother. She had the best smile. I always wished I knew someone in my childhood who smiled that way at me. I would have liked to have met her. Willy was always saying she would have liked me. I always felt so warm and fuzzy when he said that sort of thing to me.

Suddenly, glass shattered. The noise startled me and I knocked over a pipette. The jelly like pink and white bubbles soared out of the tube and splattered on the floor. I felt a sharp pain as jagged pieces sliced into my arm.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing I thought to say. Willy had rushed over to see the mess. I was horrified by how I’d destroyed his recipe.

“No, it’s okay, I’m just worried because you’re bleeding,” Willy said anxiously.

“Oh Mr. Wonka, I'm fine really,” I replied anxiously moving to hide my wrist. He gently took it back. He smoothed his thumb over my marred skin, eyes opened wider in shock.

He must have seen the the scars that hadn’t faded very well. He didn’t say anything. He made sure to get a bandage and wet cloth along with a salve to ward off infection.

He cleaned the wound, and next he used soft movements to apply the ointment. Finally, he wrapped my arm with the bandage and tied it off. It was just right, not too loose and not too tight.

“There you are,” he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He held my arm a little longer, his face getting sadder and sadder.

“You don’t have to tell me, but I’d like to know what all these other scars are from,” he murmured.

His radiant green orbs met mine. I bit the inside of my lip. I turned away from him. The intensity of his gaze was too much.

“I-I wasn’t always as happy as I was here,” I finally admitted. “I felt like the only person to take that out on…..was myself.”

“Oh, y/n,” Willy’s voice was filled with sorrow and ache.

“I haven’t done it in a while. I’m almost a year clean. I am sorry you had to see that,” I told him solemnly.

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for,” Willy told me quietly. His face dipped down and his lips touched the thicker skin. He kept his mouth there longer than I’d expected.

“I don’t want to overstep, but if you ever need a person to talk to when you feel that way; I am here,” he told me.

I finally turned back to meet his eyes. I felt full of gratitude and love. He was the kindest man I’d ever met.

“Thank you Willy, those cuts are long healed, but it feels like you just sealed them even further,” I told him tearily.

“I am glad,” he beamed.

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming

[s0dium]

Business

Alpha!Gojo x Omega!Reader

A/n: I know its been a long time in the works, but its finally here! The second part to the Alpha series! I did not expect the sukuna one to blow up like ALMOST 10K HOLY SHIT. Neway I hope you guys enjoy :) ALSO THANK YOU FOR 10K FOLLOWERS!!!!

Synopsis: For most of your life, you did a pretty decent job of hiding the fact that you were an omega. So when you met your boss for the first time, the feeling in your stomach was un-recognizable to you. The feeling was fear, fear that someone knew who you really were.

Warnings: Stalking, drugging, DUB-CON, knotting, heat, breeding, sub-space, reader is love sick, pet names, teasing, dry humping, squirting, kidnapping (if you squint)

Check out part one!: Cursed (Alpha!Sukuna x Omega! Reader) 🔞

~

For most of your life, you did a pretty decent job of hiding the fact that you were an omega.

When you went to apply for a job people automatically assumed that you were a normal beta from your average appearance or your scentless body. Even your friends, ones who had stuck by your side since elementary school, believed the lie that you were, well, normal.

So when you met your boss for the first time, the feeling in your stomach was un recognizable to you. The feeling was fear, fear that someone knew who you really were.

At first you thought it was just anxiety about the new job and meeting such an intimating alpha. To be fair, Gojo was one of the tallest men you had ever laid eyes on and the fact that you could see his muscles through his suit didnt help either. But it was the way he looked at you that really set you off. Sometimes you could see his sky blue eyes glint behind the lenses and pupils dilate when he locked gazes with you; like a predator eyeing his prey. And then there where times where he got a little too close, like when the two of you were stuck in an elevator and he leaned over to press a button and you swear you heard him inhale the scent of your hair.

But then again, maybe you were just paranoid. Yeah, it could totally be just that.

~

“Y/n?”

You turned around from your office desk and faced your co worker, Kiyotaka was his name you thought.

“Yeah?”

“Mr. Gojo said he’d like to see you in his office.”

You thickly swallowed at the sound of your bosses name. “Did he mention what for?” You say, standing up and straightening your white blouse.

“Nope, just to have you in his office as soon as your available.”

You nodded, biting your lip and glancing through the glass door to see your boss in a dark blue pinstripe business suit staring at his computer.  

“Ok thanks kiyotaka.”

Your coworker gives you a small smile before you head toward the glass doors; mentally preparing your self for the worst possible outcome.

The shut of the doors behind you alerts Gojo of your presence and he gives you big grin and nods to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“Please, Y/n, sit.”

You smile softly and so what your told, making your self comfortable in the char infront of the desk.

“So, y/n,” Gojo leans forward, taking off his signature round glasses and locking eyes with you. And god, you are now painfully aware of just how captivating his eyes are. “I know about your situation.”

His words snap you out of your haze and send your mind immediately racing.

“Wait what?”

He knew you were an omega? But how? You spent so many years building the perfect facade how did he see through it? Was this the end of your professional and personal life? Would he try to black mail you? What if-

“Yes, I know that your house was broken into recently.”

Oh.

“Uh,” you cleared your throat, recouping your self and your composure. “Yeah, it was, how did you know?”

“Oh you know, office chatter.”

Funny, cause you only told two people here.

“And needless to say y/n, I’m quite worried about your safety, do you have a place to stay?”

“Uh not really, I’m working it out right now…” you trailed off, what was he getting at?

“Well as your boss i thought I’d offer you a place since it’s my job to ensure the safety of my employees. This company owns a vacant building, for recreational purposes or sorts. It would probably be in your best interests to stay there for a couple of days.”

You choke. “Sorry what? No, sir, I couldn’t I-”

Before you could finish, Gojo grabs your hand from across the desk and squeezes it. The hold he has on you is tight, like you couldn’t pull away if you wanted too. And the way he looked at you, the way he looked at you; blue eyes glinting at you like you were caught in a trap, made your stomach twist into knots and sent shivers down your spine.

“Please, y/n” He says with a soft smile and pearly white teeth. “I insist”

Your throat went dry, and you open your mouth to speak but no words come out. All you can do is nod, making Gojo grin.

“Fantastic! Well the day is just about over,” he chirps while looking at his watch. “So why don’t we head over to your house now in my car, pick up your stuff, and I’ll show you the place!”

All you can do is nod as your fate seemed to be in the hands of your boss.

~

It was very obvious whose car was Gojo’s in the garage of the office building. Probably because of the fact that it was the most expensive one there; it being a sleek black Ferrari with custom deep velvet wheels.

“After you.” Gojo says with a polite smile that could make grandmothers faint, holding the door to the shot gun seat open.

You nod a thanks and step into the car. The door shuts behind you and the one across from you opens and Gojo sits next to you in the drivers seat. There is a moment of silence as he starts the engine and backs out the parking space, but before he exits onto the road, he stops and leans over to reach for something behind you.

“Can’t forget to buckle now can you?” He hums, reaching over you and grabbing the strap to buckle you in. Your eyes widen as a wave of his scent fills your nose, and god, he smells like heaven. It’s a sickly sweet mixture between pine, lavender and something heavy, muskier. It clouds your brain and senses, and you want to bury your nose into it over and over again.

Which is strange.

Usually your medicine dulls your sense of smell since an omegas nose can become hyper sensitive. You were sure you took your meds this morning, you haven’t missed a day since you were a kid.

You immediately snap out of your daze and and pull out your bag, digging through your bag and pulling out the bottle of medication.

“What’s that?” Gojo inquires, starting the car and heading out onto the road.

“Oh uh, allergy meds, you know with it being spring and all.” You respond shakily.

Better take some now just in case.

You shake out three pills and sallow them, giving Gojo a small smile after you do.

“Well, I hope you feel better.” He says and you nod. Then it hits you.

“Oh do you know where we are going? I forgot to give you the address.”

Gojo’s eyes widen and for a second it feels like you caught him doing something, but he quickly gives you a small smile and gestures to his phone.

“Oh I have all of my employees emergency information saved back when you filled out those forms when you first came to the job.”

“Huh…..” you trail off, nodding. “Wow sir, I had know idea how dedicated you where.”

~

Something was wrong. Something was really wrong

The ride to the new place was excruciating. All of your senses where over run with the smell of Satoru’s in the small car, for fuck sakes you could practically taste the pine on your tongue like hot sugar. Your breathing was heaving and irregular and it felt like the seat belt was strangling you.

What was worse was the ache between your thighs that just wouldn’t go away no matter how much you clenched or rubbed. Your skin felt sweaty, sticky from the perspiration and you could see in the car mirror that your face was flushed a deep red.

Gojo has took notice of your state and asked if you were ok multiple times to which you responded with a nod or a affirmation when really you were getting worse.

“Y/n, are you sure your fine?”

Your stomach twisted into knots when you heard the way he spoke your name like it was dripping with honey.

“Mmmh, can you just uh, turn on the AC a bit lower sir?” You say in-between heavy breath.

“Y/n it’s already freezing, and please call me Satoru.”

“A-are we almost there?”

“Yup just around the corner.”

You breath a sigh of relief as you pull up to the garage or the building. But building wasn’t the right word, it was more like a pent house apartment complex. But you had to energy to question the luxury of it all, instead you were dead set on getting fresh air and a bed to rest.

“I got your stuff.” Satoru says, popping the trunk and grabbing your suitcase while you tried to catch your breath outside of the car.

When you thought fresh air and getting some space from your boss would be the trick, it only made things worse. It was like your body was craving for his presence, his scent, anything that was Satoru Gojo.

“Come on the elevator is this way.”

You nod and follow the white haired man to the elevator door, allowing him to press the button of the floor, and there is a moment of silence as the two of you stand in the tight space, and it’s then you realize just how handsome your boss is.

Sure his eyes were a fascinating but ever part of his face seemed to be perfectly sculpted in an amazing combination of ‘pretty’ and ‘handsome’.

“Hey we are here y/n I promise you’ll have plenty of time to look at me later.”

Gojo’s words snap you out of you haze, painting your skin a deep red and you timidly nod.

As Gojo opens the door, you step in and immediately a thick wave of his scent crashes into you like a tidal wave. Its such a sickly sweet it has you dizzy and a pool of saliva fills your mouth. You look around the pent house flat in confusion, finding a couple dress suits laying around and a rack of fancy mens shoes by the door.

This was-

This was his place.

That’s when it all came together. How he knew your house was broken into, the meds and why they werent working, how he knew your address, and that he knew what you were.

Click

The door locked.

But for some reason that was not the most pressing issue. All of your senses were over run with the presence, the smell of Gojo, making your mind spin like your body was drunk on him, An immense wave of heat had overtaken your body and hit you hard in the gut, knocking the wind out of you and making your knees wobble and buckle. This was exactly why you couldn't miss a day of your medication, because you’d be thrusted into a vicious heat cycle  triggered by years of hormone build up.

“Wha- what d-did you do to my m-meds where did you bring me w-what is happening to me”

Fat hot tears start to fall down your face, and you begin to fall down but Satoru catches you; scooping your up in his arms bridal style and bringing you to his chest

“Shh shh shhh baby don’t cry, I’ll take care of you, I promise.” He says softly, sweetly, peppering kisses on your cheek and jaw as he walks over and sets on on the giant king bed.

You whine when he crawls on top of you and places his knee between your legs which brushes against your clothed crotch. You involuntarily buck up your hips to try and gain more friction, making Satoru chuckle; his shit eating grin widening

“Needy, arent you?”

You can only whine in response as he pulls off your business pencil skirt and hooks a finger under your pastel pink panties; pulling the material down to reveal your gushing cunt.

Your hands fly down to hide yourself but he swats them away, giving you a glare before sliding a finger up and down your wet slit; collecting the jucies before pushing the digit into your tight hole.A hand flew down to hold his arm but it was hardly to pull him away, no this was just you needing to feel any part of him under your fingers.Next he felt you clench and he almost grinned, knowing full well that, that squeeze around his cock was going to feel so amazingly good later on.

The first curl of his fingers knocks the wind out of you, as it hits the sweet spot inside of you that you could only dream to reach on your own.

“Hah~ I cant-” You whine and whimper, stomach clenching and legs trembling from the pleasure. You’re high strung, drool slipping from your mouth more and more onto the white cotton sheets as you cry out when the pressure in your gut builds and builds.

“Shh shh baby, yes you can, i just need to prep you before m’go in ok?” He coos, making you sniffle as you nod.  You cant help but push your hips out, angling them so his digits reach deeper into that sweet spot that sent tendrils of electricty through your body. You don’t even notice that he had unbuttoned your blouse until he latches a mouth onto your hardened nipple and begins to suck. The added stimulation has you clenching around his digits and digging your nails into the fabric of his suit for some sort of stability.

“S-satoru I’m gonna-” your attempts to warn the white haired man in front of you falls upon deaf ears as he continues his prodding and curling of his fingers in your cunny. Suddenly the tension inside your stomach snapped and you were tumbling faster toward and orgasm then you could put a stop to it. You open you mouth to scream but no words come out. Moaning and rolling your eyes back you almost melt then and there on the bed as you soak his fingers in sheets of sticky liquid. Boneless and limp you can only bob your head when you feel yourself being manhandled; bigs hands grabbing the underside of your plush thighs and pressing them to your chest.

You watch through the haze of your orgasm and Gojo shrugs off his expensive blazer and lossens his tie, licking his lips as he does so. You don’t even notice that he had pulled out his dick until you feel something pressing against your entrance, making you look down and eyes widening as you do so.

“M’wont fit there’s no way it won-” your babbling is cut off when Satoru attaches his lips to yours and you practically melt. It’s messy, and hot, and your by no means as experienced as him and it’s obvious. Spit smears on other side of your lips as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, whines and sweet moans escaping your throat as he does so. The kiss makes you dizzy and you can’t even remember what you were so worried about, you can only think of one thing.

Satoru.Satoru.Satoru

“Don’t worry sweet cheeks, i was made for you. And if it doesn’t fit,” he hums, his voice just above a whisper “we’ll make it.”

You’re about to open your mouth to say something but all of a sudden Satoru pushes his dick into you until his hips are flushed against yours. It feels like your being split in too, and the way his tip smushes against your cervix makes you unable to find your breath. The unfamiliar feeling has you squirming and clenching around his cock; body desperately trying to push out the foreign intrusion.  

“Shit you gotta loosen up doll, cant fuck you like this.” There were veins popping on his temple as he started to rub tight circles on your clit. Bolts of pleasure shoot up your body, and you desperately try to relax your body.

“Atta girl” He coos, withdrawing his hips before slamming into your.

The first thrust completely knocks the wind out of you. The collision with your gspot has you arching your back of the bed; eyes screwed shut and letting out a loud moan. Every vein on his cock dragged against your velvety walls, catching on your entrance as he pulled back before thrusting back in. his thrusts were deep, the tip of his cock reaching spots you could only dream of hitting with your fingers. Your skin is buzzing, and your entire lower half is shaking from the pleasure. His pace is brutal, unforgiving, and he grabs the headboard above you with one arm to help his brutal and unforgiving pace into you.

“Mm’so good- don’t stop, please don’t stop!” your babbling strung out of your lips without much of a thought other than how good he was fucking you, his thick cock driving in and out of your velvet walls. It was as if you were made for each other, your cunt sucking him in with each push and shove that hit at just the right spots.

“Not gonna stop,” his grunted through barred teeth, canines brushing at the delicate skin of your neck, “not gonna stop until I give you my knot-” He cuts himself off with a loud groan of his own before grabbing your ass and bring you upwards. Instinctively you wrap your legs around his waist as you sit fully seated on his cock, strong arms lifting you up and down his dick; picking you up them slamming you back down.

“M’love you! Love you so much!” The pleasure was muddling your brain, making you boarderline incoherent.

“Oh?” Satoru chuckles, delivering a particularly harsh thrust into your gushing cunt which makes you jump, “Knew you’d come around, want me to breed you dont ya’? Stuff you with cum till its spills out?”

You dumbly nod, drool slipping out the side of your mouth as you do your best to raise your self and drop your self back onto his dick,

Your ankles lock around his lower back and you cry out when the head of his cock kisses your womb, your legs shaking as you feel your self start to be thrown into an intense orgasm. You want to say something about the weird feeling in your stomach, how your skin is buzzing but its all to much and before you know it your tumbling toward the edge. It feels like your whole body was shot with electricity and color dance in your eyes as you float in ecstasy.

"Sh-Shit, shit, fuuuuck~" He chuckles into your ear, choking over his words as his hips sputter inside of you, hot cum fills you as much as you can hold inside of your stuffed cunny. You babbled and puled as it built and built and built, like there was a dam of his seed spurting into you. You unintentionally, probably instinctually, squeezed around him, drawing more out and he whined and murmured his praise. "Good girl, get as much as you can." You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his intoxicating scent.

A/n: I couldnt figure out how to end it im so uncreative LOL

[kp0ptributera]

A new start

A/N: Somehow a follow up to my first smut, somehow the start of something new, hope you’ll enjoy it and get ready for a wild ride Word count:2,6k Contains: Some angst, Boss Lisa, squirting, more angst (for the plot, but don’t worry it will be fine)

You woke up, knowing it would not be a day like any other, since Somi’s arrival at your work and the day you started watching over her, there were no more boring days. Everyday was filled with fun and work seemed to become easier, because you finally had someone you could trust and who would be by your side in rough moments. But even if everything seemed to be amazing, you often thought deep in you that you were missing something, that you could do better or even that this work could bring you nothing more, so you started looking for a new one, in secret, telling no one you were wanting to run away and take a new start. Someday, you stumbled across a job offer, totally fitting your skills, so you applied, just for fun, you didn’t thought you would be called back. The offer said they were looking for a new manager in a young company, all you needed was to accept that shifts could be pretty long and get along well with others. But then, the phone call that would change a lot of things came, it was a woman’s voice, asking you question about your resume and telling you the company was interested in you, giving you a meeting at their office later that week, you didn’t knew how to react, should you tell it to Somi? “Nah” you thought, “It’s nothing more than a meeting, I’m sure they have better candidates anyway….” . ————————————————————————

The day of the meeting came faster than you imagined, but to be honest, you spent most of the week daydreaming and working mechanically. “-Are you okay?” you heard the voice of Somi getting you out of your thoughts “-Hmmm?” you answered “-I asked if you were okay, you look somewhere else for the last few days, is the boss asking too much of you?” “-No, no, it’s not that….I..I have a meeting later today for a new job, I feel like I’ve done all I could here, each day looks the same, except when I’m with you” you smiled at her “-And when were you thinking about telling this to me?” she looks upset, and you understand that “-After leaving me here alone with that old perv ? Or would you have just disappeared without telling me?” her eyes were getting redder before she starts moving toward the door “-Somi, wait-“ But it was too late she already fled the room, leaving you alone ————————————————————————

The rest of the day went like this, Somi avoiding you and you looking like an idiot, trying to find the words that would make her feel better. You finally headed to the meeting, the building was recent, and only a few offices were actually being used so when you stepped in the elevator, you were surprised to meet someone, the surprise was even greater due to the fact she was just stunning, the kind of girl that could make any guy bend the knee with just a look. You took a moment to gain your composure back and shyly talk to her. “-H-Hi” you stumbled on your words “Damn, I must look like an idiot” you thought but anyone would become stupid with a goddess like her next to them “-Hello, are you looking for something?” her voice sounded like a melody to your ears “-Well, yes…I’m coming for a meeting and I’m kinda lost, is there any chance you knew the floor of this company?” you showed her the mail with all the information you had “-It must be your lucky day, because I’m also heading there” She flashed a smile, and you felt like time stopped, this image would stay engraved in your head forever, but Somi’s smile appeared in your head and you suddenly felt sad “Hey, are you okay?” her voice bringing you back inside that elevator “-Y-yeah, it’s just I was….I was thinking about something I should take care of after” You tried to flash a smile, but she knew it was just a mask

The ting marking the fact you reached the desired floor filled the elevator, and you followed the woman through the office, everything seemed really recent so you wondered what kind of job the company would give you. You both reached a locked room so the woman reached for her bad and opened it with a key, inviting you to enter. It was bigger than your previous office, which was already kinda impressive, but what shocked you is when she took place behind the desk and invited you to sit.

“-Welcome to my office, my name’s Lisa, nice to meet you” She smiled again, leaving you a moment to assemble the pieces of the puzzle in your head. “-S-so it was you I had on the phone, I’m sorry ma’am, I must look like an idiot now” You giggled, a bit stressed by the situation. “-Don’t be sorry, I shouldn’t have played this little trick to you, in fact I wanted to meet you before telling you I could be your future boss, just to see how you were” She started laughing and suddenly, you felt better “-I hope I haven’t done something wrong then” you laughed a bit with her, the atmosphere becoming friendly in a matter of seconds. “-No, don’t worry, in fact, you did pretty well, you didn’t tried to be a playboy and it’s something I like” “-If I can be honest, I was too stunned to even think about it” “-Really? Why?” she stared at you with an amused look “-Well, first, everything looks so new and expensive here that I don’t even know if I’m qualified to work here, then I saw you and I thought that I was really looking out of place next to you” You flashed a smile “-Sweet talker, aren’t you?” She smiled and you started laughing. “-Nah, just honest ma’am” “-Please, call me Lisa, if we are going to work together, the first rule here is that everyone should get along, so no “boss” or “ma’am”, we’re in this together” Her tone was a bit more serious than before “-Understood, but I have a question, what do you wait from me exactly, I mean if I was hired” “-You would be my assistant in a way. I can’t always be around so you would second me in all that matters, and make sure all the employees feel good and can work without stress.” “-And how many employees are they?” “-Right now, we are less than 10, but I plan on expanding a lot, so there will always be something to do for you” “-Then I have a question” You said those words without thinking “-Yes, tell me, is it about the pay, or the schedule?” “-N-no, it’s just that…..I have an assistant where I work actually…would it be possible for her to join too?” The thought of Somi joining this place with you gave you confidence “-I’ll think about it, but wouldn’t she distract you? It’s the one you were thinking about in the elevator, right?” She smiled again, reading you like a book “-I don’t want to leave her behind, she is qualified for any work, I just don’t want to make her think I abandoned her” “-I see…. that might be possible, but I have a few more questions first, you don’t mind?” You saw a little light appear in her eyes, but you were so happy that Somi could come too to notice “-Ask me anything, I’ll answer as honestly as possible” You flashed her your best smile “-Did you fucked her?” She said that with a really serious look “-E-Excuse me Lisa?” You were struggling to breath “-I asked you if you fucked her, yes or no” “-I…. yes, I did, but before you tell me you can’t hire me for that…“ You started to justify yourself, but she stopped you “-Oh don’t worry, it’s not something that would eliminate you… It’s something that makes you win some points” her smile became a bit more lustful, her eyes scanning you behind her glasses “-Uh? What do you mean?” An alarm started to ring in your mind, but you didn’t knew why “-I mean it’s a plus if you don’t mind fucking your coworkers to get them rid of stress” She got up and come sit on her desk just in front of you, her skirt going up little by little while you tried to look somewhere else “And to make sure you can, it’s time for the test handsome” her voice became so charming she could have been a mermaid “-What should I do?” you gulped, feeling your mouth becoming dry “-If you can make me cum, you are hired right now, and I’ll do my best to find a way to bring your assistant too, if she accept of course, but If you can’t, well we would had fun but it would be all” she whispered it in a sexy tone that made you lose all common sense “So, should we get started?” What brings you back to the reality was the sound of her skirt coming off and your body moving on his own to her command

You kneeled in front of her, kissing her toned thighs through her panty hose while your hands started to wander from her legs to her shirt, unbuttoning it slowly and enjoying each little part of her skin you uncovered with your fingertips. Your mouth went upper and upper till it reached her soaked panties, your tongue making a bigger mess by licking it, her delicious monas making you more daring, you slipped your hands under her bra, to discover her tits were bigger than you first thought, just the right size to fill your hands and pinch her nipples, making Lisa’s moan a bit louder. “-Keep going handsome” Her hands were going through your hair as you slide her panties aside and start lick her pussy directly, she was as sweet as honey and burning hot, your tongue dancing from her holes to her clit in a choreography led by her moans and compliments, happily doing a good job. Suddenly you felt her getting wetter, so you focused on her clit, sucking and licking it with all till a juice explosion happened, you couldn’t hear it because of her thighs, but you were sure Lisa’s screams echoed through the whole building, her pussy drenching your face spasm after spasm before her legs released your head. You took a deep breath, glad of your work when she pushed you back on your seat.

“-Well you are hired, fuck it’s been a while since someone could eat me like that” she smiled at you “Now consider this as a bonus” She started kissing your neck while rubbing herself against you, her body moving in a hypnotizing way, her ass getting on your lap over and over making you harder than ever. “-If you do your work as nicely as you made me cum, I’m sure I could reward you with more than that” Her whispers made you start to see stars, how could you even take more than that without getting crazy? You swore to yourself that you would do your best to make the job. “-I’ll do my best Lisa” those words left your mouth between two moans “-Good boy” Her smile was even more mesmerizing from there, just before she kissed you “Maybe we should stop there, your phone is getting crazy” You were so hypnotized that you didn’t notice, and when you looked at it, it was just filled with notifications of missed call and message from Somi. “-Fuck….You’re right, but our deal is still up, you’ll do your best so she can join too?” you were worried that she said that without thinking it suddenly “-Of course I was serious, but she must accept” Her smile became much smoother, like someone looking at a love story and finding it really cute ————————————————————————

You excused yourself, Lisa telling you she will send your contract through mail, as well as your schedule and a list of the employees she was worried about. As soon as you reached the building entrance, you were wondering how you would tell it to Somi, not only about the new job, but also how you got it…. Maybe it was better to keep quiet about that part, but this secret could blow to your face anytime if you both work there. You choose to send her a message “Meet me at the coffee shop when you can, I’ll wait you there” and headed there, ordering her fav drink and waiting for her. “-Hey, sorry that I kept you waiting” Somi arrived, still looking a bit sad, but at least she isn’t screaming at you “-Hey, don’t worry, take a seat” You smiled at her “-So, how your meeting went?” She looked genuinely worried for that “I mean, you are good at what you do, there is no reason it went wrong…” her eyes glowed a bit “-I did well and I’m hired, but I have another news…Well two in fact, a good one, and one that I don’t know how to tell” You looked embarrassed and suddenly, you thought that maybe you should have tell her this at home, so there would be no scandal “-Hm tell me both of them” She raised her eyebrow “And don’t worry, I won’t scream here, I’ll wait till we get outside” She smiled, but it was looking like a threat “-Well, the good one is that if you want, you can also come…” “-OH REALLY, that’s amazing!” She looked so happy suddenly “-BUT this job will require me to do some…. Special things, like taking care of any employee who needs to release some stress…. And that’s also the test I had to pass to be hired…” Your heartbeat went crazy “-You…you mean you had to …. I see” her gaze became cold “And you want to tell me you can’t keep going with me because of that?” “-NO, that’s not that, it’s just that I don’t want you to find out someday…. I’m happy when I’m with you Somi, like a ray of sun after the storm, but if we want to have a better life, this job will be perfect…” “-And what if I don’t want to watch you be… be a whore for your company?” The words hurted more than you thought “-Then we will have to keep working for that moron till the end of time” You tried to joke, but her eyes told you it wasn’t the time “-I…I don’t know, I don’t think I could watch you doing that every day with other girls” her eyes were getting filled with tears “-Somi…” “-No, I think I’ll stay in this shitty company, someday I’m sure we could talk about this while laughing, but right now, I don’t want to hear you” She got up and started to go away, leaving you alone, seeing you abandoning you broke something in you.

You tried to send her messages, but she ignored them all, so you stopped trying, and asked Lisa when you could start working. Her answer was the following week, accompanied by the schedule and a list of 4 employees who would be under your direct orders. She also asked you about your assistant, or if you would need one, your only answer was “I wish I could fast forward time, but for now, she won’t be part of this.” You sent the mail, and wondered how you could fix this while keeping this job, but you knew it would take time, and at the moment, you were too exhausted by everything that happened to find the solution.

[chronically-ghosted]

there ain't enough room in this Pontiac for the two of us

rating: E for Explicit! 18+

word count: 8K

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

summary:  1. No sex. 2. No touching yourself. 3. No orgasms. 4. No murdering your annoying DEA partner. (A Javier Peña-shaped rift on this iconic fic)

tags/warnings: smut, dubcon/noncon elements, hand jobs (f receiving), no use y/n, javi being sexually frustrating as hell, time period compliant sexism (not from Javi)

a/n: please go read the original fic. Her’s is far superior to mine and this is but a shameful hollow echo.

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Bogota

11:23PM

Back before you willingly and eagerly joined the special task force between several unruly government organizations created with sole and express purpose to hunt down and catch the cartel king Pablo Escobar – before you applied to the DEA on the highest recommendation of your law professor, your criminal psychology professor, and the dean of admission, all whom believed your talents, (despite the unfortunate accident that you were a woman) would have a deep and profound impact on catching those responsible for the deaths of thousands worldwide –  hell, even before you applied to Stanford and you spent your free time oscillating between color guard, JROTC, and retaking your practice SATs and ACTs until you got nearly a perfect score so that the realization that you didn’t have one single friend in the world to distract you from your single-minded almost obsessive focus to prove yourself, despite all your faults – 

Before all of that –

If someone had discreetly taken you by the arm, gently sat you down, and told you what a perfect and deluded idiot you would make of yourself on a seven hour stake out on a dark, rainy night in the capital of Colombia, well, you probably would have laughed them out the door.

You aren’t one really predisposed to bouts of uncontrollable, side-splitting, “I’m laughing so hard I’m afraid to take a breath out of fear of the noise that’s going to come out of my nose” laughter, but if someone allowed you to take a good, long, healthy look at one of your more unhealthy habits – that, of course, being your almost toxic levels of competitive behavior – you might have been prone to at least one giggle.

The thing was, you really didn’t lose. Ever. You didn’t back then and you don’t now and your tenacious, unbreakable will made you not only a formidable and dogged DEA agent, but it also (and perhaps more importantly) made you a social, professional, and absolutely mental equal to men like Javier fucking Peña. 

Javier Peña, whom women would literally melt into a puddle around, whom men would clamor over themselves just to get a drink with. He’s just so fucking cool, you overheard one of the office interns mutter to another, just look at him. That was also the day you spilled coffee down your entire blouse because you squeezed your styrofoam coffee cup too hard, but that was an entirely unrelated matter. 

Whatever sway Peña seemed to inflict over the panties of every woman in the building, you resolutely stayed immune. When you first joined, it had been easy to avoid him. So much so, you were completely flummoxed when the man with the name you’d heard whispered in the hallways, finally made his way over to your side of the building for a meeting with your boss. He walked in with a badly-fitted suit, bags under his eyes, the reeking stench of day-old cigarettes, but by the reactions of the phone girls, you’d thought Elvis himself had just emerged from his coffin and began performing “Hound Dog” topless in bedazzled pants. 

This? This is “The Guy”? The guy that women on your floor would spend their entire lunch breaks in the bathroom comparing stories over – “yes, Kathy, I heard his dick really is that huge!” “Yes, Shannon swears he made come for hours just with his tongue!”

Him? 

Really?

Was it just slim pickings between married men and wheezing senators? 

Never meet your heroes, I guess.

That was back in the late 80s. Back before the bombings and the kidnappings and the mutilated bodies of journalists.

Things had changed. Significantly. 

Once things had gotten – let’s just say, dire – the agency started moving around teams, prioritizing certain missions over others. Which meant not only were you taken off a case you had just spent the better part of a year and a half building, but you were reassigned to a new team. Co-led by the one and only Javier. Fucking. Peña. 

Now, Javier didn’t like the rain, especially not after a seven hour stake out. You knew this because every time it rained, he stormed into the pen, snorting like an enraged bull, his hair wet and his shoulders damp. Why the man couldn’t just simply go out and pick up an umbrella, you didn’t feel the need to ask. But it set your teeth on edge that a grown adult would be so annoyed by something that had such a simple solution. More than once you thought about hurling your own umbrella like a javelin at him, but your fighting matches had become legendary around the office and you refused to be provoked again by Javier’s own arrogance. 

But that’s what started all of this, right? 

You, with your white-hot competitive streak, and him, with his over-inflated ego, clashed again and again – until finally about the one thing both brought you a sense of pride: your sex lives. 

Annoyingly, this was proving more difficult than you anticipated. 

Thumbing the rim of your third lukewarm coffee of the night, you sigh, long and loud, not entirely regretful of the choices that led you here, but simply rather irked that someone had come along and finally proved to be a real challenge.

“Shut it.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Javier, who had been sitting next to you for the better part of the past seven hours, his long legs tucked up around the bulky wheel of the black Pontiac Firefly the agency had rented for this mission, continues to scowl through the dark and the rain at the spot where you had tracked one of Pablo’s higher ranking enforcers. A gambling den on the first floor, and a brothel in the basement, most men you tailed here spent only a few hours betting and fucking, before wandering back home, probably a little drunk and significantly less horny. But this guy – fuck – did he have the stamina of an Olympic athlete?

What had begun as a quick follow up to some intel your team received earlier in the week had turned into one of the longest and most unbearable nights of your life. 

“I said, shut it.” 

Your mouth drops open. “I am literally just breathing, Javier.” 

“Yeah and you’re doing it too loud.” He takes a sip from the coffee between his legs then resumes his hunched, crossed arm position. “It’s annoying.”

Huffing, you sink lower in your seat, as much as the surveillance equipment and evidence boxes around your legs would allow. 

“This is so stupid,” you grumble. 

“This is basic DEA work, sweetheart. If you can’t cut it, I’m sure I can find someone – literally anyone – else to take your spot. Sarah’s always been eager to spend some extra time alone with me. Or what about Mac? You two get along right? Who am I kidding? You get along with e-e-everyone–,” 

It is infuriating he knows exactly where to poke and prod to supercharge your competitiveness as well as your jealousy.

“I’m not talking about the sting, Javier! I’m talking about your need to always be in control. I’m talking about how, just because you can’t get your fucking rocks off, you’ve been sniping at everyone in the building.” You scowl and lean as far away from him as you can in the cramped hatchback. “Making everyone’s lives hell because you haven’t gotten your dick wet in a month.” 

“Oh, sure, I’m the only one being a fucking nuisance in the office,” he sneers, scratching at his forehead with his thumbnail. “After your little meltdown at the copier machine, I think Mark from accounting would rather fist-fight God than have to ask you for a stapler again.” 

You snatch up the used napkins in the cupholder between you and shred it to pieces. You chuck the little bits at him as you snap back,

“The. Stapler. Was. Right. There! He. Was. Being. Stupid!” 

“Stop it! You’re going to get it in my coffee!” 

With a snarl, you hurl the mangled rest of the napkin at him and he swats it out of the air. It rolls over the dashboard, fluttering in the AC that was doing absolutely nothing to combat the sticky humidity. 

He did this to you. He always did this to you. Made you feel like a silly child, an overly emotional brat, for pointing out things he did time and time again. Why was he allowed to get away with it and you weren’t?

In the temporary silence, the rain patters loudly on the roof of the car. Headlights emerge from the gloom and disappear as the few unlucky caught out in this deluge run from awning to awning with magazines, newspapers, or umbrellas tucked over their heads. It had been raining for hours and it seemed to have no intention of stopping anytime soon. 

You aren’t sure which irritates you more: the humidity or the stickiness gathering on the crotch of your panties.

It had been there for days, constant, a reminder, no matter how often you changed them out for some temporary escape. Your thighs tightened as close as they could, but a large storage box split your legs apart. 

“You know,” Javier begins softly, almost contrite, gentle in a way you’d never heard before. He's pinching the edge of his coffee cup with his fingers, resolutely not looking at you. “If this bothers you so much, you can just quit. Call it off. No hard feelings.” 

You snort. He really is the most ridiculous man alive. 

“Yeah? You’d get the satisfaction of finally coming, after being hard for at least – what, a month, month and a half? – and half my next paycheck? I don’t think so.” You adjust in your seat, your left hip starting to ache from the position you’ve been maintaining for seven hours. “Well, the money’s one thing. But I think I’d rather be physically shot than have to listen to you parade around the office, gleefully spilling secrets about me as your latest conquest, bragging to all your little buddies around the water cooler how you finally bested that bitch in the bullpen. At that point, I’d rather we just actually fuck. At least that way I can finally understand what the fuck has the secretaries all in a goddamn hissy fit over.” 

After nearly a third of the day spent next to you, he finally tears his gaze away from the target and looks at you. His dark eyebrows drawn down, plush lips frowning, he’s unnervingly serious. You wonder if you actually managed to make him genuinely angry.

“I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t brag about you to anyone, even if you lost. And I especially would never if you let me fuck you.” Let me? Now that’s a turn of phrase you definitely won’t spend hours thinking about. His frown deepens as he glances down to his coffee cup. “People – women – like to talk, but I never say anything, to anyone. I don’t encourage it, but it feels like I’m the one being checked off a list. Like I’m a space on a fucking bingo card. It’s rude.”

Gobsmacked into silence, you watch as he cranks down the window for just enough space to chuck his (and yours) empty coffee cups out onto the wet road beside the car. You let him tug it out of from between your legs without a single line of snark.

Your brain finally comes back online when the window squeaks back into place. 

Hang on a second – did you really just feel bad for the office casanova? That little shit manipulated you into actually feeling sorry for the dozens of women he willingly brings home then turns out like used toilet paper. You can feel that decades old hate and disgust crack open and boil in your stomach.

“Well, hey, Javi, here’s an idea. Just stop fucking the women you work with. If it bothers you so much, then stop fucking women entirely!”

“I did! I have done that and I am!” He gestures wildly with his hands, palms out as if in supplication. “Everyone in the office – including Noonan, I’m pretty sure – knows about this stupid fucking bet and for once, it’s been great to have an excuse to not have to hold up my expectation of being a great lay!” 

You will not allow yourself the time to fully process the idea that not only is Javier Peña grateful to not have to fuck a skirt, but it’s you he’s doing it for, so you snarl back, as you always do.

“Then what? What’s got you so fucking wound up, if your poor dick needs a break from getting sucked?”

With a groan that starts somewhere in his lower ribcage, he falls forward into the steering wheel, his forehead on the rim. 

“I’m not saying that, alright? It’s actually been nice to have my bed to myself for a bit. But Jesus Christ, I miss pussy.” 

Don’t. 

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about the way he says it. Like it’s holy.

The warmth of the humidity in the car ratchets up as your heart starts to race, your palms sweat. You wonder vaguely if there’s condensation on the inside of the windows. He shouldn’t be allowed to get you so wet by just saying the word. You swallow, clawing back that familiar anger until you feel in control again. 

“So then go get it.” You wave your hand around the dark streets of Bogota. “Just go out there and end this thing once and for all. God knows I’m sick and tired of having to listen to you roll around, grunting and huffing, with a hard-on so big I can almost hear it.”

“What are you so mad at me for?” He snaps up, a much more palatable rage in his eyes. “All of this – the bet, the rules, the fact that you actually included wet dreams – you decided on!”

“You’re the one who demanded you move into my apartment for the entire duration of this hell! You’re the one who went out and bought two twin beds like a fucking maniac and made me take out my bed to put in your little torture devices to make sure neither of us cheated off the clock!” 

“And you agreed to it! I’m not the only insane one here! Sometimes I think you do it on purpose – kicking and fighting with the sheets, moaning in your sleep, rubbing yourself up on the mattress. Twice now I’m pretty sure I’ve gone blind in one eye, listening to all that and not being able to do a goddamn thing about it.” 

You scoff, but now slightly uneasy. You’ve been moaning in your sleep? Fuck. Taking down your overbearing and egotistical coworker a few pegs was one thing. Becoming roommates with him was something else entirely. About two weeks in, he had come out of the bedroom without his shirt on – he’s been doing that more and more lately – and you had to sit in the bathroom with your hands clamped around the toilet seat for ten minutes straight to keep from finger-fucking yourself on the living room coffee table. 

“I’m honestly surprised you didn’t want to install cameras in the shower just to make sure I’m not jacking off in secret. You better not be doing what I think you’re doing in there, Javi. You touch yourself once and I win, Javi. Stop looking at my ass when I’m wearing less clothes than a Victoria Secret model, Javi.” 

“It’s summer in Bogota, you jackass,” you snipe, particularly ruffled by his high-pitched affectation of you. It stings more than it should because it sounds exactly like the shrill harpy all your male coworkers make you out to be. “What do you want me to wear?”

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, something terrifying like a smirk crawling across his perfect mouth and you feel the safety of annoyance crumble out from under you. He really is so fucking pretty.

“A puffy snowsuit would be lovely, actually. Arms, legs, all wrapped up. Cover your gorgeous hair in a hat too, if we’re at it. But if I knew you’d wear what I bought you, all you had to do was say so. Women always say I have excellent taste.”

You sigh, again, irritated and desperate to relieve that fist of tension in your shoulders, that gently knotting warmth between your legs. You wonder how much rubbing your crotch with the seam of your jeans you could get away with before he’d say something. 

No, fuck, shit – focus. You’ve got to get a grip. This is just like those long night study sessions at the academy. All you had to do was buckle down and get serious about this. Sleep deprivation and curtailing your basic instincts didn’t scare you. You had been outlasting men like Javier your entire life and you weren’t about to get weak-kneed now. 

And then something occurs to you that you hadn’t really considered before.

You had been so caught up in your own denial, in fighting your own need to hump your pillow even for a bit of relief – you hadn’t stopped to think what this might be doing to him.

Jesus Christ, I miss pussy. 

Here's a crack in his resolve and you had seen it. Just for a minute. But it's there. You didn’t have to win so much as to make him lose.

Javier Peña. Nowhere to go and having nothing to fuck made him a very dangerous man. One you could easily exploit. However, and as much as it physically pained you to admit, Javier was smart. Blind-sided by his own horniness, or not, if he caught wind of you purposefully stacking the odds against him, there was no telling what he’d do in retaliation. 

For a moment, your sex-deprived brain lounges in the idea of the many forms his retaliation might take. 

No – Focus. You lick your lips, wrenching your gaze to the ceiling of the car. You had to be very careful about this. 

“Look, I’m sorry, alright?” Go at it from the side. Around back while his attention is focused elsewhere. This was fucking guerilla warfare tactics. Placate him with submission. “I didn’t realize my outfits were bothering you. It’s just . . . it’s been so hot lately. I feel like I wake up, drenched wet in sweat, and it’s just too much still. And then, with this bet, sometimes I wake up and between my legs, I’m so –,”

A fist slams against the inside of the window so hard and so loud it makes you jump. His shoulders hunched, the fist in his lap tight and white-knuckled, he doesn’t even fully open his mouth when he snarls, “Do not . . . under any circumstances . . . finish that fucking sentence.” 

He’s breathing heavily, breath skipping between his ribs, and you know you’ve got your opening. Your bottom lip drawn in between your teeth, you’re as much transfixed by his control visibly slipping as you are secretly, darkly thrilled to hear him make those noises. He breathes for a few more times, eyes closed. The sound of rain makes another appearance.

His hands come up to wrap around the steering wheel, as if he were picturing something else flexing beneath his palms. 

“I know what you’re doing, or what you think you’re doing. But it’s not going to work. It’s just going to make me mad and I am not above hauling you over my lap and spanking you for being such a tease.” 

You aren’t sure what shorts out your brain first: the fact he caught on so quickly, or the mental image he’s painting – and how much you fucking love it. God, when did it get so hot in here? You can feel sweat pooling along the ridge of your spine, under the cups of your bra. As though reading your mind, he shucks off his notorious brown jacket and hurls it into the back seat. Your toes curl in your boots. He’s wearing that white linen shirt that expertly shows off the cut of his biceps, his forearms and is more appropriate for a beach trip in Hawaii than the mean streets of Bogota. In his movement, his infamous sunglasses clatter against his stomach – if he just buttoned his collar all the way up like any man with an ounce of decency, they wouldn’t get in the way as much. You want to tell him that, correct him yet again, but now you can see the sweat shine in his clavicle, skin slightly pink and feverish over the hollow of his throat. You had no idea you affected him this much.

“You’re right. This is ridiculous.” He huffs, tossing back his glasses too before flopping back against the seat. “This can’t be healthy, at least. Edging ourselves for weeks at a time. I keep seeing tits in the clouds.”

“So then end it already.” You don’t mean to sound breathless – it’s the opposite of what you want – but your heart rate still hasn’t settled over the idea of Javier spanking you till your ass is red. He’s so much bigger than you, broader. He’d do it rough, if you asked, you know he would. You really hate to sound like you’re begging, but maybe you are. His eyes snap open wide at your near whimper. “Javi, please. We’re not going anywhere. He’s been in there for hours and he’s not coming out any time soon. Just unbutton your pants – I can just watch you – drop your hand in your underwear and –,”

A hand that can cup you nearly from ear to ear flies across the console and claps over your mouth. Something’s changed about him. You can see it in his eyes. At this point in your partnership, you had become fairly good at identifying his emotions, given there were only a handful he ever cycled through: tired, irritated, bored, furious, frustrated, disappointed. But this . . . this is different. His shoulders still face forward, arm reached out over the console, but his thick eyebrows arch down, as if he’s considering something. His head is cocked slightly to the side. You have to stop yourself from breathing in a sigh when his tongue wets his bottom lip.

“I’ll willingly lose this godforsaken bet on one condition,” he rasps out. His hand is warm, all consuming, you can barely breathe under it. You train your entire focus into the way his hair flops over his forehead to keep from whining at what his deep voice does to your lower half. Your muscles clench and your neglected pussy drools. Fuckin’ traitor. “And the condition is, that after this is done, after this fucking doomed stakeout is finally over, I drive us home and you let me rail you against our couch. How does that sound?”

You squeak, once. That’s it, but you can already feel that tell-tale hum, that warmth that almost itches, taking root below your stomach. His eyebrows arch in surprise, in victory, that smirk threatening to make an appearance. Your nails dig into the pleather seat – you want to thrash back, to get out from under the weight of his hand, to snark back a litany of responses that are not only mean but belittling – but you don’t. 

You know he can feel you swallow and his eyelids hover halfway as he licks his bottom lip. He shifts, elbow now pressing against the back of the seat, his weight leaning forward, almost pressing down on you. His other hand is dangerously close to your knee. 

“I’d make it good. I’d make it so fucking good, I swear. I’ll get down on my hands and knees and eat that wet little pussy for as long as you want. Lick and suck that attitude right out of your cunt.”

The car is too small, too cramped. Heat is washing over you in waves and the ache between your thighs is burning. With him this close, you can smell his cologne, the cologne that you rib him endlessly for because you’ve watched women inhale it like a pheromone as he passes down the hall. The scent now floods your senses, choking out everything that isn’t him, and your fingers dig up around his wrist, to pry him off you. You can feel sweat trickle down your temple onto his pinkie over your cheek. He watches it with his eyes, hungry and ready to devour. You have to wrestle back some semblance of control, or else your heart is going to beat out of your chest. 

With all the strength left over from keeping yourself from bucking your hips up into the center console, you shove him back across the car. 

“You fucking . . . stay over there,” you croak, gulping down air as if you had been deprived. He sprawls back, arms outstretched across the window ledge and the back of his seat. “Don’t ever fucking t-touch me again. Those things y-you said. I should report you–,” 

“Why?” he chuckles. “You liked it. Thought you were going to eat me there for a minute . . . and I would’ve let you.”

It’s remarkably easy how your white-knuckled, lightning-sparked anticipation for him to do exactly what he said he’d do quickly morphs into a near-blinding rage. He doesn’t get it – he still doesn’t get it – he thinks this all a fucking game, when every minute of every day, your entire self-worth was put on the line.

But this is how you danced with him – right up to the edge, barking, screaming, yelling, then when it got real, or even almost real, you backed down. And he knew it.

“You really deserve someone who knows what they’re doing,” he continues. He folds his arms across his chest, grinning wildly. “Maybe that would teach you to be nice. Is that why you’re so nasty all the time? Someone who cares about you to properly stuff up that sweet little pussy in the way you need it?”

You feel fire crackle up and down your spine, plunging low to lick your insides every time he muses about the state of your cunt, then sky-rocketing back into this rage you’ve built out like walls.

It’s your turn to twist in the seat, to push against the windows as if you could expand and break out from this twisted scrap of metal that kept you chained to him.

“This is not about sex, Javier.” Your teeth ache from grounding out the words. “This is about proving to every single man out there that I deserve to be here. That I’m not just some cock-struck idiot who falls to her knees just because you snap your fingers. I don’t care what you think I need or what you want to do to me. I don’t care because until I come out of this bet the winner, all they’ll ever see is a pair of tits who negs them to do their fucking jobs.”

That wipes the smirk instantly off his face.

His eyes go soft and that might be worse than when he threatened your cunt. 

“You think I don’t respect you.” It wasn’t a question but a surprised, almost hurt, statement. He sits up as best he can while still facing you. You were both irate and appreciative that you didn’t have to put it all into words. Words that would make you, again, feel like an overly emotional wimp. Someone with feelings. “You think I’m doing this – that I’m still doing this – because I want to humiliate you.”

You wait in silence for the pricking in your throat to subside before continuing on. “Is that not why? To bend that bitch as far as she’ll go before she breaks so everyone can see how much of a child she really is?”

His nostrils flare. “That’s the second time you’ve called yourself that tonight and I won’t stand for a third. Do you understand?”

His protectiveness flares so fast you aren’t quite sure what to do with it, so you nod.

“Good.”

Javier turns back around, his knees spread outright around the edge of the steering wheel, and picks the packet of cigarettes from underneath the radio. He wheels down the window again, rain spitting inside the inner ledge, and he lights up for the first time all night. His breath is shaky as he exhales through the crack he made. You can’t stop staring at the shine against his throat. What was rain and what was sweat? The golden lights from the store fronts and shops make the curls around his neck glow. 

“I’m sorry that by fighting with you, I made you feel inferior. If you can believe it, I actually respect the living shit out of you and I . . .” He taps out ash before dropping his gaze to his lap. “That was never my intention, but Christ alive, you drive me crazy.” 

If anyone ever asked, with a gun to your head, what was the one thing that immediately turned you on, you would without question answer with: Javier’s voice. How deep it got when he barked orders. How stern and serious it was when he directed raids and stationed soldiers. How playful it could be when you stopped trying to claw his eyes out. 

He inhales slowly, thoughtfully, before blowing out again, fully turning his shoulders away from you as if something he is ashamed to admit is crawling up his chest into his mouth. He presses back against the seat, his unoccupied fingers tapping on his thigh. 

“I think you’re one of the best agents I’ve ever met,” he confesses quietly. “Which should be the only opinion that matters, actually. I don’t say that to be egotistical – this bet isn’t about them. It’s between you and me, so fuck them. They’re all idiots and you know that. They know you know that and that’s why they want to take you down. Some men can’t stand it when a woman is smarter than them.”

Your tongue unsticks from the roof of your mouth. There is a heady mixture of pride, relief, and lust swirling lower and lower. He thought you were one of the best agents he’s ever met. Your lower half tightens at the praise, especially coming from him. “And you? What do you think?”

Javier grins. He flicks the butt end of the cigarette out the window and rolls it all the way up as he says,

“It’s a fucking turn on, is what I think.” His hips adjust towards you, that obnoxious belt buckle gleaming in the low light. Do not look at his crotch. He presses the backs of his two fingers against his mouth as he watches you. “But I’m not going to let you win this bet because you flutter your pretty eyes at me.” 

He knocks his temple against the headrest, gaze shamelessly sweeping up your thighs, your wrists – of course, your tits – your neck and then your lips. You had caught glimpses of this look from him before – when you were reporting to a room full of slobbering men with precision and direction, or when you kneed a suspect into the ground, pinning him down and cuffing him with the other hand or that one time you joined the game of volleyball at the agency picnic in nothing but a sports bra and swim trunks. But now, that unique Javi look that seemed reserved only for you, it barrels down on you in full force – not another agent or superior around the corner to drag his attention away. Without restraint, he let those dirty, nasty little thoughts spring into his mind and you can almost hear the moans you're making in his head. 

The desire that had been reduced to a simmer suddenly flares up in a fever pitch. Between your legs, your cunt aches at the mere hint of attention.

“Javier, don’t,” you warn. You try to back away, try to cut the argument in half like you do in the office by storming away down a hallway or into the bathroom or your car. But you can’t. You’re pinned by proximity under the weight of his stare. You’re not even fighting with him and he’s making you angry. 

Angry? God, leave it to fucking Javier Peña to prove to you that the line between rage and being outrageously turned on was a razor-thin edge. 

“I’m not even doing anything, baby,” he croons. He rounds his shoulders as if trying to lean forward, cover himself with his body. If you couldn’t see the whites of his knuckles around his clasped hands, you would have feared you would have been making this all up. “I’m not touching you, just like you asked.” 

“Thank you, Javi,” you squeak out. “Now, please let's just get back to–,”

“I could, though, if you change your mind.” His eyes follow a very predictable path up the curve of your throat. “I could touch you. Are you going to change your mind?” 

Even now, on the knife edge, even when he has been extraordinarily honest with you, you can’t make yourself say it. Can’t ask for it.

“It’s against the rules.” Because she's a traitor to you, your cunt leaks when you meet his jet black gaze. You feel the sweat on your neck return so fast you shiver. “I will kick you if you come over here again.” 

“You’re so mean to me but, fuck, I love it so much.” He smirks. With mounting horror, you watch as he lifts his hand, the same one that flew over your mouth, up to the lip of the center console. “Here I am pouring my goddamn heart out, and you want to resort to violence.” 

Not so much cautious, but more with the slow, syrupy flow of direct and deliberate intention, he brushes the backs of his fingers against your thigh. You jolt back, a muffed gasp caught between your teeth, but you don’t move to snatch his hand away. 

He watches your face for any hint of resistance. When he doesn’t find any, he continues, casually flowing the pads of his fingers from the top of your knee, all the way up to your hip.

“Do you wanna know what I think, baby?” He purrs. “I think, somewhere along the way, someone came along and really fucked you up. Hurt you beyond comprehension.” His touch is more insistent now, more of his fingers, his palm occasionally. His thumbs sweeps your inner thigh and your cunt clenches down onto nothing and your teeth ache in your head. 

“Javier–,” 

His eyes flutter for a minute at the sound of his name tearing through your mouth. “Fuck, you’re getting me distracted . . . what was I saying? Oh, yeah . . . I think someone fucked you up and like the fucking warrior you are, you built up safeguards to never let that happen again.” His eyebrow arches lazily as he palms your waist. By the sheer grace of God, you had tucked your shirt into your pants today, never wanting to give the men in the bullpen the satisfaction of an accidental flash of skin. But Javier just tuts at the intrusion. His knuckles digging into your skin, he pinches out the edge of your shirt, bit by bit. “Problem is, you kept building until you locked yourself in and now you don’t know how to get out. You don’t know how to ask nicely at all.” 

His broad palm slides uninterrupted under your shirt, smoothing the rough pads of his fingers across your stomach, and then up to the underwire of your bra. That’s enough to jerk you out of this dizzying haze. 

“Javi, you can’t–,” you squeeze your eyes shut, as tight as your cunt, as he threatens to brush his thumb over your teased nipple. “I–I don’t wanna – I don’t wanna lose –,”

“Fuck the bet, sweetheart. You can tell them I lost for all I care. Right now, I just wanna feel you gush between my fingers.” 

He doesn’t even need to touch your tit to yank that first moan out of you, but the breeze of his thumb only elongates the noise. Your own hand claps over your mouth this time, to muffle half of that stifled sound. 

“None of that now,” he purrs, switching the direction of his hand and going lower on your body. “It’s fine when we’re in public, but here, I want you hoarse from screaming my name as loud as you can.” 

“Javi, please–,” 

His hips twitch. Twitch so hard they jerk off the seat, the side of his crotch rubbing the steering wheel. His eyes roll back in his head.

“Juuust like that, baby. Keep saying my name just like that.” 

His fingers don’t slow down as they breach the waistband of your pants. He didn’t even unzip you so his entire warm hand is shoved right up against your coarse, damp hairs. 

“Fuck, is this sweat, baby, or is it from me? Please fucking lie if it's not and tell me it’s for me.” 

The pad of his middle finger skims the top of your lips, terrifyingly close to your clit and you finally react. Your clit throbbing, your fingers clamp down on his wrist and he freezes. But he’s panting, breathing harshly across the seat. 

“Don’t ask me to stop. Not right now. Please don’t –,”

Your hips buck into his palm and your head drops back against the window. You end up pressing him harder against you and you moan. 

“It’s you, Javier, I’m dripping for you.”

“Shit,” he snarls and rubs himself against the steering wheel again, anything to relieve the pressure. His fingers slide around the edges of your puffy, swollen lips, skitters across your pulsating clit, and you nearly orgasm from the direct touch. You jerk back, the denial of your orgasm almost painful, but because your waistband binds him to you, his fingers come with you and you bump into them again. You almost cry out at the intrusion, but his hand is still. 

“Can I touch you– c-can I put them inside you, baby – please?” 

Tight-lipped, you shake your head furiously, muffling nuh uh between your teeth. He hisses darkly.

“This can’t possibly still be about this stupid fucking bet –,”

“I don’t – w-w-wanna lose – I-I-I don’t wanna lose –,” you swallow, voice breaking, and you yank his hand out from your soaking underwear. You can’t bear to look at his fingertips, assuming from the ocean between your thighs, they’ll come out pruny. But the ache doesn’t go away. It lingers, waiting and lurking for the next touch. It’s been denied too many times tonight. Your head spinning, you gasp for breath for the split second he’ll allow. 

“You know, for such a smart woman, you really don’t get what’s best for you.” His other hand finally comes around and grabs your knee, pinning you apart with his broad hand and his other elbow as his fingers dive for the buttons of your pants. You try to shut your legs, but the box at your feet is immovable. “Just fucking relax and let me take you apart.”

“W-w-wait, Javier, that’s not–,”

His gaze pinning you down as much as his weight is, his fingers deftly unzipping your pants, sliding through the opening, and pressing up against your sodden panties. You gasp. It’s relief, painful, throbbing relief, but it comes at the cost of fire licking your spine. 

“But that’s not what you need, is it, pretty baby? That’s only part of it. Touching is one thing, but you need someone inside of you, don't you? Need someone to fuck up into that pretty cunt.” Your pussy swollen, you fight to breathe as much as it to fight off your impending orgasm. “Just say thank you, Javi when we’re done, alright?” 

Unrelenting and deaf to your cries, his fingers strip back your underwear and finally, finally, finally, he sinks two fingers into your hot, pulsating core. His shoulders shudder as you arch back, letting out a wail. Your thighs quake around the box in front of you. 

“‘Is so good. So warm.” He slurs. His hand releases your knee and slides up your hip to palm as much of your ass as he can reach. “Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He inhales like he wants to haul you over the console into his lap, but that you resolutely cannot allow, because there would be no coming back from that. You can still see the other side of your orgasm, enough to stifle it back down, sequester it. He strokes your inner muscles, in and out, the wet sound obscene – you must be gushing – and he hums. “Listen to that, sweetheart. God, the things I could do with that. Put you over my fucking shoulder, for one.” 

Your release is roaring at you, the razor-edge of pain and pleasure digging into the meat of your pussy, as you fight again to deny what you actually really want. You plant your heels, rolling your hips against his fingers because if you were going to fucking lose, you were going to be the one to make you do it. Not him.

And then unprompted, he retreats his fingers and all but shoves them into his mouth. His hips buck up again and he’s not breathing properly. You shudder at the loss of contact but at least the edges of your vision return. God, you’re not sure how much more you can take. But there is some respite, even for a moment. Javi seems to have momentarily forgotten how close he had come to winning.

Saliva and your thready cum dripping from between his lip, Javier sucks on his fingers as if someone were threatening to cut off his hand. His hips bump lazily, distractedly, against the steering wheel as his other hand white-knuckles his knee. He licks his wrist up to the meaty side of his palm, never one to waste excess. 

“Fuck, fuck, f-f-fuck,” he murmurs, eyes closed. The sight has you flushing again. “I’m gonna eat that cunt whole if it’s the last thing I do. Gonna put you in my lap and bounce you on my cock until you beg me to let you –,”

“Come.” You command, sanity finally snapping as you use the same voice to scold rowdy students at the academy or talkative agents in a presentation. It’s forceful, direct, and you are hoping that it throws him off enough to do exactly that. Come, so you win fair and square. Because that means you can finally come too. 

It works.

Or it nearly does. 

Javier’s spine goes rigid, hips still, his soaked fingertips hovering inches from his wet lips. His eyes snap open and oh, shit, you’ve done it now, you’ve really done it now. His once blissed out face contorts into that scowl of primal determination that only comes down for raids. For meetings with sketchy CIs. Moments when lives are at stake. 

“What did you just say to me?” The growl is more gnarled wolf than human. You immediately back up as far as the car will allow, the front of your pants still undone. 

“Javi, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry –,” By his expression, you half-expect him to throw open the door, storm around to your side, yank you to your feet and start fucking you against the car window. Your cunt is throwing a fucking riot at this point. She’s so pissed at you, she’s squeezing so tightly, you think she’ll suck the air right out of you. “I wasn’t thinking – i-i-it just slipped out –,” 

He unbuttons two more of his buttons on his shirt and you think, deliriously, he’s going to take his shirt off, but no, he’s just letting more heat escape. More steam rise from his sweaty back. He seems to grow, fill out, until he takes up the entire front seat of the car. 

“Please, please, don’t make me come, Javi.” You cry, shrinking back as far as you can. You might actually die from this. From him or a lack thereof. Either way, Javier Peña is going to destroy you. 

“I should leave you alone, you know.” He growls. “I should just leave you there to fucking drool into your jeans, smart little cunt knotted up so tight, I could breath on you and make you come. The kind of shit you pulled tonight, you fucking deserve to suffer. But I’m not going to do that and you know why?”

Without warning, his hand snatches around your wrist, yanking you up against the center console. He’s right, you’re so fucking close, the movement rubs you wrong and you squeak again.

Slowly, with superhuman restraint, his nose delicately strokes the underside of your jaw by your ear, then down your neck, as if inhaling the goosebumps that burst out across your skin. You shudder. “J-J-Javi, p-p-please –,” 

His other hand slides back up under your shirt, his fingers slotting in between your ribs, your back as arched as it can go. He feels you breath shakily and he closes his eyes. His next words are so soft, spoken so close to your cheek, you can feel the hairs there vibrate with the frequency of his voice.

“I’m not going to do that because I want you to know exactly what the fuck has the secretaries in a goddamn hissy fit over. I want you to think of me and me only every time you try to open your legs for anyone else. I want you to cry in frustration every time you can’t make yourself come with just your fingers because they’re not mine – they’re nowhere close to mine – and I want you to scream in frustration when I don’t pick up the phone. After tonight, I’m going to ruin you for everyone else.” 

He pauses, as if expecting an answer, but he couldn’t possibly think you are capable of responding, of dredging actual human thought up out of the murk he held you under. His lips drag gently over the arc of your cheek as he leans into your ear. His voice rumbles and you whine, embarrassed, at the sound alone.

“Because that’s what you’ve done to me.” 

No, no, that can’t possibly be right – it’s a trick. It’s a trap. It’s a lie. Javier Peña can’t actually be –

And then, in that same, slow timbre of voice, Javi says,

“I’m gonna finger-fuck you now, okay?”

Any chance of fighting back, of arguing still, is obliterated when his hand shoots back down between your thighs, surges past your underwear, and hooks his fingers up inside you again. This time it’s fast, he’s not waiting for you to gather your sense, he’s going to split you open, here in this fucking Pontiac. 

The force of his thrusts make your spine turn to ooze and you drop forward onto his shoulder. 

Fine. It’s fine. You’ll fucking lose. Who cares about your precious pride?

You don’t realize you’re whimpering in time with his fingers until you try to say his name. He cups the back of your head, reverently, as he spews more filth into your ear. As if the lewd noises he’s evoking from your pussy isn’t enough. 

“I’m going to take care of you, you little sweet cunt. I’m going to take care of you the way no one else has. That’s right, that’s a good little pussy, squealing for me. Hmm, tell me, does she like this?”

His thumb merely brushes your clit, the lone survivor in all of this, and your hips jolt in his hand. He holds you steady against his shoulder. Your fingernails dig into his bicep. 

“Oh, yeah, she does. Of course, she does. I can do that for as long as you like, alright?”

That white heat curls your body inwards, tearing your mouth open, and sending your eyes to the back of your head. “JaviJaviJaviJavi – please –,”

He tsks into your ear. “You keep saying that but you never tell me what you’re begging for.” 

It’s coming. It’s staggering. It eclipses everything and it’s just out of reach. You feel it start to expand and after all this time, it’s actually a fucking relief to give yourself over. To let yourself be rent asunder by something this huge and overwhelming. 

His fingers, the ones not rocketing you towards the biggest orgasm of your life, gently wind up into your hair, sweetly caressing the soft skin behind your earlobe. His voice is quiet, coaxing, kind. His lips almost kiss the ridges of your ear. 

“It’s okay, baby. I’ll tell you what to say. Say, Javi, I want you to make me come.” 

“Javi, I–,”

There’s an explosion.

No, not like that. He’s not that good.

It’s a literal explosion in the street, with flashes of flames and heat that rattle the car. Alarms go off, your vision goes white – because of a pipe bomb stationed out underneath a car parked outside the part-time gambling den, part-time brothel. Javi’s arm flings out in front of you as the car is rocked from the impact. Flames lick the charred out husk of the front of the building. Only when your ears stop ringing, do you finally hear the screaming. 

And then patter of bullets. 

“Baby, get your gun and stay low!” He roars, as the windshield of the car behind you shatters, the popping of gunfire echoing the distance. He lunges back and grabs his jacket, fumbling for his gun. The panic in his voice shakes you awake and you dig into the glove box for your own handheld. 

It’s a firefight for your lives, in the middle of the rain, in the middle of chaos and smoke. 

It’s time to go to work. 

🤍Part 2

[beaunoor]

In your masterlist for Tokyo Revengers do you write for something like reader being a boyfriend or girlfriend of Kisaki Theta (Kisaki may or may not have rule 63 applied to him) and becoming friends with Hanma ?

Hi anon! sure I could write for him. if this isn’t what you had in mine I can revise later,,,got a bit carried away writing out a backstory sorry

kisaki tetta x gn reader; last timeline au

Notes: one curse, not proofread

You knew Kisaki from when you were teens. You observed from afar—how he associated himself with the ruffians around school, how odd it was for him to change his style to match those who he surrounded himself with, you wanted to avoid any bad karma he would bring…

It wasn’t until years later into your adult life when you had seen him again. You don’t ever pay attention to anything sport related, but when you were asked to deliver files from your boss to the founders of TK&KO company at the infamous race track you couldn’t help but grimace at the task. 

You tried to keep a neutral face when you had handed him the folder. Keeping busy by looking around the box they sat in and casually watching the cars zoom around the track, sneakily glancing at him and how well he’s grown up

“These numbers look well done. Who’s the one overseeing the transactions?”

You cleared your throat.

“That would be me, sir.”

He finally peered up at you from where he sat through the lens of his glasses.

“Oh, L/n right?”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“Ah–yes that’s right sir.”

“There’s no need for formality, we're about the same age. We go way back anyway.” He stood up from his seat, fixing his suit. “I want to have a meeting with your boss, L/n.”

And that is how you ended up being close to the calculating man. He quite literally bought shares of the company you worked at and now you more or less work as an accountant for him

Late nights spent at the office turned into nightly talks about the past with each other if he was ever in office. Instead of going home like a good homebody would do, you would knock on his door, offering a cup of coffee or tea and you would keep him company until he was done for the day. When you both were out of the building, you would part ways and be on your merry way home.

It wasn’t until one night before you would all be dismissed for holiday when he stopped you from going home and asked to take you out for dinner, hand scratching the back of his head as he struggled to focus on your reaction.

From then on he would do right by you and treated you as a good man should, properly asking to be your partner

You were aware that the gang he used to be a part of still had ties to him so you weren’t surprised to see a friend on occasion

But this—this was a bit different

You awkwardly stood up against the wall of the elevator, trying your best not to turn your head to see the piercing eyes on you as the lanky man who has also gotten onto the elevator up to the office saddled up to you. You were literally sweating bullets at the fact that he was standing so close and was just staring at you, as you had no idea what his intentions were.

When the elevator dinged, you both walked out and you realized he was indeed following you all the way. He had to be important to come to this floor in the first place but this was way too odd.

You knocked on the office door, opening the door ajar to pop your head in to hand Kisaki a document for his meeting, ready to whisper about the creepy man. But another presence opened the door all the way and there the creep stood and you could do nothing but stare in shock.

“Oh, Hanma there you are.” Kisaki said. “I see you’ve already scared Y/n.”

“Ah so they’re that one—” Hanma started

“Y/n you can go now.” Kisaki interrupted

Hanma would wait after that meeting to formally introduce himself. Afterwards, you became an odd pair of friends. 

He teased and bothered Kisaki quite often just for the kick of it, though you would often join in to rile up your man.

Hanma has an odd sense of humor that you try to understand, but sometimes it’s better not to

Yes, hanma has suggested you become a throuple and will continue to do so just to piss off Kisaki

When he would come over to your guys’ place to have a drink the both of them were a lot to handle, but you couldn’t help but smile and giggle at the obvious display of friendship

One night Hanma had drunkenly told you a little secret about kisaki you would never have guessed

“I remember Kisaki when he was a little shy idiot who wanted everything. Even though he was too much of a wuss to confess to this one girl one time and even more of a pussy to talk to you back when you guys were in grade school.”

You egged him on to tell you more before Kisaki shouted at him to shut the fuck up. You still ask Kisaki about the rest of the story but he refuses to tell you.

Hanma was a good confidant when he needed to be and being a photographer he had a good amount of free time he would hang around the racing track or the office when you were in to work

It was a nice connection to have that made you smile

ahh so excited to have my first anon! thank you for requesting!

[3-2-whump]

Relapse: Crumbling Promises

<prev next>

Please heed the TW/CWs on this chapter. Also, thanks @generic-whumperz and @whumped-by-glitter for your input into the ending of this chapter, your feedback has been applied

TW/CW: dubcon (lots of dubcon), allusions to previous dubcon, prostitution, slave whump, degrading language, degraded whumpee (in that whumpee has to haggle their own value -idk what that’s called, but it’s pretty degrading), intimate whumper, possessive whumper, asphyxiation, emotional whump, unhealthy relationship dynamics, possessive relationship dynamics, whumper x whumpee (although pretty unbalanced)

The frenetic stimulation of his cock and the wild fragility in Khaled’s eyes continued to haunt the mob boss long after their reunion of the flesh in the parking lot a month ago. He thought about it from when he couldn’t sleep at night to the first waking moments of consciousness in the morning. He thought about it in the shower, at the gym, during meetings, and in the middle of intercourse at the brothels. It was just as Khaled had said; those girls (and occasional boys) in the whorehouses could only satisfy him for so long, and he believed he had finally run his course after his fourth threesome in a month. Now here he sat, in his desk chair, trying to compose an email he’d rather not send, with his mind far away from the zoom conference he was supposed to be a part of.

He looked over his shoulder at Khaled, who had broken away from his usual positon right behind his chair to water the potted fig tree by the window. Nothing in his composure betrayed his lapse in decorum on that fateful night, though he was moving a lot slower than usual, and his eye-bags seemed darker than his foundation could cover up. Tom studied him closely, noting Khaled had been like this for months now. Was he still sneaking out at night to see that damn cholo? He’d been meaning to do something about his slave’s newfound promiscuity, but something more important always came up, and ever since their near-death experiences, Thomas had been trying to turn over a new leaf and give Khaled a longer leash, metaphorically speaking. Although, if the boy kept dragging his feet, he might tie him onto a literal leash, too.

Some static-y goodbyes and well-wishings sounded from his monitor, signaling the end of the conference call. Tom cleared his throat and jumped in with his own farewells. “Yes, you too, happy holidays, buon natale –yeah, yeah, I’ll see you next year, Matteo. You too, Gio, happy new year! Okay, okay, bye!” He exited out of the call, minimized the screen, and swiveled his desk chair to face the young man by the windowsill. “Khaled, come here,” he called.

As soon as Khaled was within reaching distance, the boss grabbed him by the waist and slung him over his lap, trapping him between the hard edge of the desk at his back and his own body in the front.

“What are you doing?” Khaled neither squirmed or struggled in his grasp, instead opting to stare at him quizzically. “Let me off, I don’t want this-”

“Like you didn’t want it in the parking lot on the night of your birthday last month?” He grinned in triumph as his slave’s face blushed bright red from the tops of his ears down to the black band of his collar. “You do,” Tom whispered, voice low and sultry. “You want this, and you need this, Khaled.” He ran his hands from the young man’s waist up his sides, slightly untucking his shirt in the process. “I’ve seen you work yourself to the bone trying to be my executive assistant. Isn’t it exhausting, working so hard?” Khaled sat as still as a statue as his fingers raked over the front of his body. “Isn’t it tiresome, doing what free people do?” He snaked his hands down Khaled’s sides to dip under his shirt hem, feeling a familiar rush of heat below as he touched the warm skin underneath. “Don’t you just want to relax?”

The way Khaled’s body responded under his hands as he laid him over the desk was nothing like any of the whores the brothels could give him. Here, splayed back-first onto the hardwood, was his own personal fuck hole, who pleasured him exactly how he wanted. “But, this isn’t- I don’t want this,” his slave protested, lightly pushing back, “and this isn’t even what I’m being paid to do anyway-”

“Well, if it’s pay you’re after, I can pay you for this,” he snickered. “It’s called prostitution, Khaled, and if that’s how you want to earn your money, I certainly won’t get in your way.”

“But I don’t want this!”

“Not even for $100?”

Khaled’s mouth snapped shut. Thomas laughed.

“$500.” Thomas stopped laughing.

Khaled stuck his lower lip out and shot him the most pathetic pout he could give. “Am I, your own personal fuck slave, not even worth what you pay your high-class call girls?”

He scoffed incredulously. So, that’s how it’s gonna be? Alright then! “$200,” he countered, “you’re out of practice, and a little too assertive for my tastes lately.”

In an unprecedented turn of events, Khaled wrapped his legs around Thomas’ lower back and pulled him in closer by the front of his shirt. “$450,” he whispered, his soft, sweet lips mere inches from his own. “I’m not as out of practice as you may think, and I can be as meek as a lamb when I need to be.”

The mob boss did not expect this to turn him on as much as it did, and yet the ignition of arousal in his core and the hardening member in his slacks spoke for themselves. He emitted something akin to a purr or a growl. “$250,” he murmured sultrily, “take it or leave it, boy.”

“$300, and I’ll do that thing with your balls that you like.”

“You’ve got a deal!” He leaned in to kiss Khaled’s lips, pinning him further onto the desk as he unfastened the belt and pants around Khaled’s waist and peeled them off. He smiled into the kiss as Khaled yielded to him, opening his mouth so the older man could penetrate his mouth with his tongue and claim every inch inside him. He reluctantly broke off from the kiss to undo his own belt and pants. Once he had gotten himself out, he noted with satisfaction that Khaled’s knees were already hitched up to his shoulders, displaying that perfect set of three and that lovely little hole, all for Thomas J Costa. “And a merry fucking Christmas to me!” he murmured, completely satisfied. He opened the top drawer of his desk, where hiding among the paperclips and stapler refills was an innocuous little bottle of lubricant, with just enough fluid to get them through this session. “I never thought you’d be such a whore,” he teased. “Where is your self-respect?”

“Just hurry up, please,” Khaled whined, cheeks flaming red in –arousal? Shame? Not like Thomas could tell, or care.

“Oh no, whore, I’m gonna make you work for your $300 and ensure you earn every cent!”

He emptied what was left of the lube onto his hardened shaft and threw the bottle away. He gave himself a few quick pumps to spread the slippery substance from base to tip, then aligned himself between Khaled’s spread legs, pushing in without any sort of prelude or preparation. The boy groaned at the sudden intrusion. His nails bit into the wood of the desk as Thomas bottomed out inside of his tight little hole. “Oh my god, how do you still feel like you’re a virgin down there?” he grunted. He began to thrust his hips, slowly at first, then building up a nice rhythm as the lithe body underneath him slowly relaxed and opened for him. “There, that’s it,” he murmured as he leaned over Khaled. “You know how this works…” He nuzzled into the crook of Khaled’s neck, murmuring against the curve of the boy’s neck and shoulder. “Your body knows exactly what to do...” God, even the smell of Khaled’s skin was enough to stoke his arousal into a full inferno. The boss kissed hungrily against Khaled’s neck, breathing in the boy’s scent like it was air and he’d been holding his breath. The whimpers he got out of the boy as he began to use his teeth were some of the best noises he’d ever heard him make. Why on earth would he, Thomas Costa, want to give this up? Why did he ever think he could go one more day in his life without being inside this amazing little being? He sucked what he hoped would be a nice, dark hickey right over the strip of black ink across Khaled’s throat. A collar is not complete without its gemstones, right? he thought. He tongued the tattooed line thoughtfully. He licked at it as if he was trying to wipe it away with his tongue, even though he knew he couldn’t. Those permanent black bands were just another part of Khaled’s near-infinite sex appeal.

“You’re mine forever,” he whispered, lips brushing against that graceful neck with every word. “Doesn’t matter if you’re free one day, because you will always be mine.” And honestly, why would he ever have thought of freeing Khaled, when the boy made him feel this good?

“Please…” Khaled whined beneath him.

He pushed up from the crook of Khaled’s neck, placing the palms of his hands on the desk as he propped himself up. “Please what, my little slut?” he teased. “Please go faster?” Khaled screamed and moaned as Thomas picked up an enthusiastic pace inside of him. He pressed the boy between the hard desk and the weight of his heavier body as he pistoned in and out of his ass with only his own pleasure on his mind.

“What is it you want?” Khaled stared up at him, his dark brown eyes shimmering like pools of liquid ink. “Please what?” he panted huskily. “Please choke me?”

Dark brown eyes widened and his lips formed the beginnings of the word ‘no’ before Thomas wrapped both hands around Khaled’s slender neck. Instinctively, Khaled released his grip on the desk to futilely scratch and tug at his hands as he increased the pressure on his neck. Thomas released one of his hands just to slap him across the face. “Hands on the table,” he growled. A squeaky wheeze left Khaled’s lips as he still tried to pull the remaining hand away from his throat. Thomas slapped him again as he held the boy’s neck in a crushing grip. “Now!”

Khaled dropped his hands to his sides. His tears flowed over his reddening cheeks. His pulse quickened under Tom’s fingers as his trembling lips formed breathy words. “Please… please… no more… I’ve been… good... please…” he whispered hoarsely. His fingers clawed at the desk, carving long furrows into its surface as he struggled to dutifully keep his hands on it. “Mas…ter… please…” he begged.

I have your literal life in my hands, he thought, smiling down with a sadistic awe. No escorts of any economic bracket would ever let the man take it this far. Nothing could ever come close to this feeling of absolute power and control, and only his slave could make him feel this powerful. Only you, Khaled, only you, he repeated in his head as he fucked his way to climax. As Thomas emptied his balls inside Khaled’s hole, he knew he would never feel this way with anybody else. What was this feeling exactly?  he wondered, finally letting go of the boy’s bruised neck. He stayed sheathed inside of Khaled’s warm, tight hole, listening to nothing but Khaled’s desperate breaths for air over the sound of his own heavy breathing. It isn’t possessiveness, it isn’t just lust. He pulled his softening length out of the boy’s fluttering hole, watching his own seed seep out with fascination and pride. So, what was that feeling, where you know nobody else can make you feel this way, and you wouldn’t want anybody else to, anyway?

Khaled turned over, leaning over the desk by bracing himself on his hands as he coughed and sputtered. Once the hacking and coughing sounds had subsided, and Khaled was nothing more than a trembling body barely keeping itself propped up against the desk, Thomas gently turned him around to face him. “You good?” he asked.

Khaled nodded. He had crushed the boy’s throat, making it difficult for him to respond in any verbal capacity. His reddened eyes blinked up at him, shining anxiously under their tear-dampened eyelashes. “Alright, down you go,” he replied softly. He pushed Khaled down to his knees, putting him face-to-face with the cock that had just been inside him. “Clean me off, and don’t forget my balls,” he ordered, murmuring a quiet “you know what I like,” at the end. He brushed a hand through Khaled’s disheveled hair, thinking about what to call that feeling he held for his dear slave. He tipped his head back and groaned as Khaled’s skilled little tongue set to work.

If it isn’t possessiveness, and it isn’t lust, his thoughts began, before he lost himself in the sensation of Khaled’s mouth.

Is it…love?

“Why didn’t you love me?!” Khaled screamed in the parking lot that night.

Love. That was a sensitive subject for Thomas. What was love, even? Between his long-absent stepfather, his sperm donor of a biological father, his neglectful mother who pissed away her inheritance into casinos, and his hard-ass grandfather who demanded nothing but perfection as he pitted brother against brother, the man was painfully aware of the lack of love in his and his brother’s childhoods. The closest thing they had to a loving adult in their formative years was Val, the nanny, but she left them too, once they were old enough.

It was no wonder his honest attempts at dating had failed so spectacularly. It culminated in self-sabotaging his wedding with Lenore on the day of, making sure that she could never break his heart like everyone else by leaving him. It seemed like a good idea at the time. It was not.

The pleasurable oral sensations had stopped down there, and Khaled now stared up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Satisfied?” he croaked. His voice was wrecked. He looked angelic.

“Yes.” Always. Forever.

Whoever said ‘if you love them, let them go’ obviously didn’t understand the pain of watching those loved ones abandon you one by one. Yet here, at Thomas’ feet, was someone who made him feel like the luckiest, most powerful man alive, who outshone everyone else as he pleasured him like no one else could, and who –if he reneged on their deal– would never leave him.

I love you, Khaled, he said in his mind, even if he wasn’t ready to say it aloud.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@defire

[viperwhispered]

I don't know about you, but I find shared baths deeply intimate. Mostly cause first you have to be very comfortable with the person you're bathing with and there's an intense feeling of safety that you boundaries will be respected.

Apply this to Jamil who is arguably the most paranoid man in all of TWST. Imagine he and his s/o are getting serious and Jamil is finally starting to really open up. It's also the stage where things are getting steamier, so to speak.

As both a sign of trust and a way to get used to each others naked bodies, the couple starts bathing together. The physical vulnerability of it since their both nude is further amplified since they have to wash/touch each other. That in itself requires a lot of trust.

Just imagine this: gently applying shampoo into Jamil's silky hair while he rants about his day, slowly revealing more about his past and insecurities. Then they switch and now the reader is the one opening up about their struggles while Jamil massages the soap onto their back. Kissing any scars they might have, talking about the most random things, playing with the water, and just enjoying this moment between Jamil and his beloved. Jamil is just so busy that he relishes being able to just enjoy their presence close to him.

There's also a strong desexualizing element. Jamil and the reader likely grew up with a notion that nudity is embarrassing and should only happen with a sexual partner. While this statement is technically true, they aren't in a sexual situation. They're trusting each other to respect their boundaries in such a way that the way they view each other goes from "potential sex object" to "a body that so happens to belong to my dearest".

Which further adds to my hot take of the "If evil why hot" route with OB!Jamil being pre-relationship.

Also, fun concept: washing away blot.

Imagine they're at the very end of the overblot Jamil boss fight. The phantom is defeated but there's still some blot left. So the reader pushes him into the river created by Kalim and holds him there as the water washes away the blot. When he starts calming down, they gently start rubing the blot off. Slowly trekking their fingers through his hair as the snakes dissappear. By the end they're left with an exhausted sulky wet Jamil. The reader then kisses his forehead as they wrap a towel around him.

Aww there definitely is a lot of potential for sweetness with stuff like this. I mean, having someone wash your hair, cleaning up together… It really can feel so intimate and vulnerable.

Now, I feel like I should add the caveat that I'm Finnish, so I'm fairly used to seeing other people's bodies in the sauna, for example, and the whole concept of nudity = sex is not quite so strong for me, personally. (Though personally I'm not likely to go to a mixed sauna, especially with strangers, but still.) So my perspective for the nudity aspect may be a little bit different, though I do definitely agree with these scenarios being intimate and potentially vulnerable. Like, you really do need to let your guard down to let someone see you bared like that, no hiding behind your clothes (or status) or anything else. Just, people, together.

Which definitely ties into that whole opening up for each other. We always tend to say that people are equal in the sauna, and it (perhaps surprisingly) is a good place for those deep, intimate conversations. So I can definitely see that same vibe for this bathing together, too.

Also just, the thought of squeezing into the tub together, trying to figure out how to adjust everyone's limbs and bodies so that you're both comfortable in there (and covered by water enough to actually get to enjoy it). One of you wrapping your arms around the other, holding them close, it's just… So sweet, and intimate, and also you kind of have to be “normal” about it to make it work (I don't really have the words for these vibes, just, yes it's intimate and vulnerable but at the same time you kinda just have to treat it as a normal thing if it's gonna work).

Just eugh I love this concept so much.

(Also now I'm definitely wondering how the twst guys would feel about sauna, perhaps even with the whole “run off naked to the lake to cool off a bit and then go enjoy some more heat” extra shebang.)

Oof that washing off blot, though… Oh it's going straight for my heart 😭 Just the whole I'm still here for you, I'm here taking care of you, let's wash away what happened (both literally and figuratively). Oh boy what a concept ripe for being picked apart.

(Also for some reason it's making me think of like washing off bodies for funerals, but in this particular case more in the sense of washing off the old self / what happened, something to allow rebirth or something. Or like, this could've destroyed him, but didn't. Idk, there's just so much one could do with this. Maybe it's just the talk of being washed in a river specifically that's making me think of like Lemminkäinen’s mother and all sorts of stuff.)

[vodika-vibes]

Hi hi Ive just seen you're bouquet request is coming g go an end I'd LOVE Acica(Secret love) ambrosia (returned affections) for Commander fox (I adore him)

If you need any baseline idea maybe him just refusing to accept his feelings and after some kinda push finally is like shit like them ofc reader loves him back and has the whole time

I'd also be happy with any of the more classicly grumpy fellas eg alpha 17, but who ever is in your brain

A New Love

Summary: Fox is in love with his friend...he just refuses to admit it to anyone, including himself.

Pairing: Commander Fox x F!Reader

Word Count: 2028

Warnings: Mentions of Palpatine physically abusing Fox

Prompts: Acacia - Secret love, Ambrosia - returned affections

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I don't really know anything about make-up because I'm allergic to almost all of it and so I don't wear it. So I apologize if anything is wrong. Also, I hope this is close to what you're wanting? I was struggling to come up with something good here.

“Will you hold still?” Fox rolls his eyes but stops moving as she carefully applies the makeup to his jaw and cheek, “Do you want me to cover the scars on your neck too?” She asks as she tilts his head to the side so she can see better.

“Probably should.” He replies with a sigh, “Don’t want my brothers to ask any questions that I can’t answer.”

She scowls at him, “Maybe you should let them ask questions, Fox.”

“You said you were willing to help without judgment, sen’ika.” He reminds her with a pointed look.

She sighs, “I am. Of course I am. I’m here, aren’t I?” She pulls away and eyes the covered scar critically, “Alright, open your shirt so I can to your neck and chest.”

Fox rolls his eyes again, and unfastens the clip at his neck, exposing his neck enough that she’s able to get to the scar.

She inhales sharply when she sees just how bad the scarring is, “...Fox-”

“You promised.” He reminds her flatly.

“Yes. I know. I know I did.” Her voice sounds thick with tears, and Fox feels a surge of guilt. If he had anyone else who would help him cover his injuries he would go to them, rather than bothering his one nat-born friend.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”

She shakes her head, a weak smile on her painted lips, “It’s okay. I was pushing, and I promised that I wouldn’t.”

“It’s for your own safety.” Fox mutters, his eyes closing as she goes to work.

“I know. So you keep saying.” Her hands are warm against his skin as she gently applies the make-up to cover the scarring. She’s quiet for a moment, and then she sighs, “Sorry, I have to restart. These scars are redder, I need to do some color correction.”

Fox opens his eyes and watches as she pulls a wipe from the table and starts wiping the makeup off his neck, and then she crosses the room to her vanity and digs around for some other make-up.

He really is lucky to have her. 

Fox knows that he’d never be able to explain these scars to his brothers. Or, he doesn’t want to explain these scars to his brothers, rather. He pushes the swell of bitterness away with ease. He loves his brothers, he wouldn’t want any of them to be in his place.

But it would be nice if they noticed that he was suffering.

At least his sen’ika sees it.

She’s a make-up artist, who works at one of the largest and most well respected theaters on Coruscant. She invited herself into his life, and Fox has to admit that his life is all the better for it.

Partly because she keeps his secrets and is able to help him hide his scars and bruises from his brothers. But mostly because she’s a genuinely good person.

It’s not love.

It’s not.

He can’t afford to love anyone, not with the state of the galaxy. Not when his boss throws lightning around like it’s nothing. 

Sure, he thinks about her all of the time. And sure, he worries about her constantly.

But he doesn’t love her. He can’t.

“Ha! Found it!” She hurries back to his side with a tube of something green, “I’ll use some of this first,” She murmurs, “And that’ll help hide the red-”

“You’re the best, you know that?” Fox asks, leaning back as she applies the color corrector to the scar.

“Well, I try.” She takes a step back and sets the tube back on the table, “How are you feeling, by the way? You look like you haven’t been sleeping.”

“I work a lot.”

She sighs, “I’ll cover the dark circles under your eyes too. But, Fox, this isn’t feasible in the long term.”

“I know it isn’t, sen’ika.” Fox replies quietly, “I appreciate the fact that you’re willing to cover my scars as regularly as you do.”

“Yeah, well…” She grabs the concealer and then points it at him, “It’s not like the Republic bothers to pay you, so this is quite literally the least I can do. Normally you’re not this concerned though.”

“Yeah, well. I’m going to 79s with my brothers this afternoon,” Fox says with a sigh, “And I don’t want them to worry.”

“Oh?” She grins at him, “Maybe I’ll join you.”

Fox glances up at her, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah? Looking for a boyfriend among my brothers?” He asks as he ignores the pang of jealousy.

“Maybe I want to dance with you.” She counters.

Fox laughs softly, “That’s a terrible idea.”

Her smile falters, “Right. Of course. I just…I wish you would tell me why it’s such a bad idea for me to spend time with you.”

“It’s complicated.”

She sighs, “Right. You could just say that you’re not interested, Fox. I won’t be mad.”

He sighs, “The more time you spend with me, the more likely it is that you’re going to get hurt.” Fox says, “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” She pulls back slightly to admire her work, “Alright. You’re done, Fox.”

“Awesome. Thanks, sen’ika.” He refastens his shirt and stands, only for her to press his helmet into his hands, “I don’t deserve you.” Fox says with a fond smile.

“Nonsense.” She shakes her head, “You deserve everything in the galaxy and then some.” She favors him with a small, adoring smile. “I’m still planning on going to 79s tonight, Fox. I’ll just…keep my distance and find someone else to dance with. Promise.”

Fox’s fingers flex against his helmet. He’s not jealous. He’s not.

“Sounds like a plan.”

She smiles at him and hugs him quickly, “Be careful, as careful as you can be, at work today. There’s only so much I can hide.”

He folds his arm around her, “It’s not up to me, but I’ll be as careful as possible. Promise.” He drops a light kiss to the top of her head, and then pulls himself out of her grip, and heads out of the apartment.

Fox genuinely didn’t think that his sen’ika was going to come to 79s. He knows her, pretty well by this point, and he knows that she’s not really into the club scene.

She doesn’t like loud music, or the scent of stale beer, or the press of strangers against her.

So when he sees her enter the club, he nearly chokes on his drink.

She looks…great. Wearing a miniskirt and a crop top, and leather boots that make her legs look amazing.

Fox isn’t surprised to see that she’s drawing attention from his brothers. She’s already stunning, after all.

His gaze lingers on her as she heads to the bar, and his grip tightens around his bottle when he sees several of his brothers crowding around her. She probably hates that, Fox can’t help but think with a small smile. 

“She’s pretty,” Wolffe notes lightly, his gaze following his twins, “You should go dance with her.”

“Pass.” Fox replies, though he keeps his dark gaze on her, “Besides, she’s got enough admirers as it is.”

“Yeah. But they’re shinies and you’re Marshal Commander.” Wolffe replies with a small smirk, “You should feel honor bound to save her from their drooling.”

“I’m trying to get drunk, vod.”

“Maybe I’ll go and ask her to dance.” Wolffe muses, as he leans to the side to get a good look at her legs.

“Maybe you should leave her alone.” Fox bites out. 

Wolffe pauses and leans back in his seat, his eyes locked on his twin. “Huh. You know her, don’t you?”

Fox doesn’t answer him, he just takes a sip of his drink, though a small smile crosses his face when his sen’ika meets his gaze from across the room. Though she’s quick to look away, likely remembering her promise to not bother him.

“You know her well,” Wolffe continues, his eyes narrowing accusingly, “I saw that look. You’re friends with her.”

“Wolffe-”

“No, no. Why didn’t you tell me you had a pretty natborn friend? Are you sleeping with her?”

“What? No!”

“Why not?” Wolffe demands.

“Our friendship isn’t like that.” Fox bites out.

“Bullshit. I saw that look. You want her.” Wolffe says, “I’m going to get her and bring her over here.”

“I…no-” but there’s no point, Wolffe is already up from the table and crossing to the bar.

Fox watches as Wolffe talks to his sen’ika, and he watches as she glances at Fox, and then back at Wolffe and shakes her head with a small smile. He can practically hear her telling Wolffe that she promised to keep her distance tonight.

And then one of the shinies flings his arm over her shoulder and she cringes.

Fox sets his bottle down on the table as the shiny presses himself right against his sen’ika and twines some of her hair around his fingers. He watches as the shiny rubs his cheek against hers, and he’s on his feet and crossing the bar before he really thinks about it.

She’s his, damn it.

He firmly pries the shiny off of her, “Did you ask the lady if you could touch her?” Fox asks his voice flat.

The Shiny blinks at him hazily, and then he straightens, “Marshal Commander-”

“I suggest you go and clear your head.” Fox says, his voice very unamused, and then his gaze lingers on his Sen’ika once the shiny leaves. “Are you okay?”

She smiles sheepishly, “I guess I shouldn’t have even bothered trying to come here.” 

“It’s not really your scene, sen’ika.” Fox points out, gently.

“Yeah, I know.” She pushes her hand through her hair, “I guess I’ll just go home then.” She smiles up at him, “Sorry for ruining your night, Fox. I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t ruin anything.” Fox replies, “I’m always happy to see you, you know that.” Her smile grows and Fox releases an internal sigh, he’s so karked. Why did he have to realize that he loved her now, of all times?

Fox glances at his twin, who has a wide grin on his face, “I’m going to walk her out. Please don’t make this a thing.”

“Oh. Too late. It’s a thing.” Wolffe puts out his comm, “I’m telling…everyone?”

Fox just sighs and lightly nudges his sen’ika towards the door.

Once they’re outside, he turns to face her while she waits for her taxi to arrive, “Sorry, again. It seems I made things difficult for you.” She says sheepishly.

“Wolffe is my twin, he’s always going to be difficult.” Fox admits, “It’s not your fault.” He hesitates and then he lightly reaches out and brushes his fingers against her cheek. “I am glad that I got to see you tonight.”

“But…you said-”

“I know what I said. I’m an idiot.” Fox interrupts, he lightly brushes his thumb against her cheek, “I want, no need, you to know that I’m not uninterested.”

She blinks at him. “What?”

“Earlier, at your apartment. You said that you wanted me to let you know if I wasn’t interested.” Fox clarifies, “And that’s not the case. At all.”

“Oh,” She breathes the word out.

“I’m just…terrified that someone will hurt you to get to me.”

“I know. I’ve known that for a while.” She admits, “But, Fox, I don’t care.”

He stares at her, “You don’t?”

“I love you enough that it doesn’t bother me.” She speaks so lightly, so nonchalantly, as if she’s not admitting something huge.

Fox sighs and lightly cups her cheek, and he smiles when she leans into his touch, “I think we need to have a long chat.” He finally says, “Tomorrow. In the morning.”

“Yeah. Definitely. I’ll make breakfast.” She beams at him, and then turns as her cab pulls up. She flashes a quick smile and kisses his cheek, “I’ll see you in the morning, Fox.”

“Yeah. Good night, Sen’ika.”

And then she is gone, and Fox realizes that he has to deal with his overly excitable brothers for the remainder of the night. Tonight’s going to suck.

[noroi1000]

Nyan XIV - What the hell?

Nyan Chapters List

Summary: You've been put in a strange situation...Why are they so close to some woman when they were about to explain something to you...

A/n: I was asked for a bit of drama, so here it is. Light angst.

"Good morning, I was sent by Gojo-san and Geto-san. It's my pleasure to meet with Miss (y/n) (l/n)?" The dark haired man with glasses asked as you opened the door after hearing the doorbell. 

As you might have guessed, they weren't home yet... You felt sad about that, but there was nothing you could do. You had a bit of a fight with them, didn't you? 

It was your first serious argument in your relationship... You felt bad.

But what the eyes see for a second doesn't mean it's real. 

Maybe the argument wasn't what you thought it was because you didn't see it long enough?

At first glance, everything is much worse than it really can be. 

"Yes. It's me," you said.

"Miss, please come downstairs. We have to hurry." He said with a small smile. 

You went for your phone and took what you needed.

You walked up the stairs and wondered who he was. A driver in a suit? 

So compared to who your boys hang out with, maybe this apartment is too poor?

Who the hell are they? 

The door to a shiny black car has been opened for you, and you know it's not a taxi...

It's a very clean, shiny black car that a driver in a suit invited you to sit in...

You hesitantly got into the backseat and fastened your seatbelt, looking around shyly.

How should you behave? 

Why is it all like this?

What can you expect? 

Who are they really?

Maybe they are serious businessmen who earn a fortune?

Maybe they are models or actors?

They told you not to worry after finding out. And that they will protect you.

Oh my God...

Are they from the mafia?

Is that why this car is like this? Own driver? A lot of money? 

In books, a mafioso is always handsome and young... Maybe this also applies to your situation?!

What if you get out of the car and immediately see a large villa in the suburbs and gorillas with guns to protect the boss?

Oh god, what have you gotten yourself into...

Or maybe they are murderers too?

They can fight and track! 

What if you see drugs and weapons? Or maybe dead bodies?!

What the hell is wrong with your cats?! With your boys?!

Cat mafioso??

Two cats with signet rings behind a desk and guns?!

Two cats that rule the entire mafia?!

Your imagination is running too wild now!

You looked at your phone when you saw the message you had received. 

Suguru: "When will you be there?" "Where are you already?"

You: "I don't know" "We entered some forest and we're going up" “I won't be taken to the forest and murdered, right?"

Suguru: "Of course not!" "Silly, we would never let anything happen to you." "Ijichi is a trusted assistant" "We have to do something with Satoru. We'll be alone when you arrive."

You: "What should I do?" "What's more important than finally telling me the truth?"

Suguru: "We have one person to deal with" "Believe me, you don't want to understand this woman."

Women?

They are there with a woman...?

Who they are? 

Who is this woman to them...?

If they...           

             "If I had to choose between you, I would choose the one who earns more." said the white-haired woman with a glass of dry red wine that was prepared for your dinner later.. "So who has more money?"

"Mei-san, we are busy. In a moment -" Geto started but she interrupted him.

"I'll ask her which one of you has more. Every woman should look at the thickness of wallet and the number on a man's credit card before dating.

"(y/n) is not you." Satoru laughed. 

"If she doesn't care about the money, she must have won the Jackpot by getting the two highest paid men in our profession."

The woman stood up and walked towards them in her dress, running her purple fingernail along Gojo's arm.

"She is the happiest woman possible. And we are the lucky ones who got it. And you, Mei-san, you drank all the wine and you're drunk." he laughed, looking at her from under the blindfold. 

"Small glasses aren't enough to get me drunk. Unless you pay me more." She grabbed their shoulders. "It doesn't matter which one, what matters is that he has money. And there's no shame in showing up at a bar like that."

Geto moved away.

"Mei-san... Please go now... We want to be alone with (y/n)." Geto muttered. 

Suddenly she placed her hands on both of their cheeks and looked at them with a smile. 

"You earn much more than you did at school 11 years ago. And you look much better. If every millionaire looked like you, my life would be more beautiful. But anyone with a lot of money for me will do."

She only sees money in them...

Suguru's eyes moved towards the open door and he saw you there. 

You saw all this Woman fawning over them.

When you found out it was a school, you were a little calmer.

But what you saw now was beyond the limit. 

You had doubts before. And now it all became clear.

They wanted to get rid of this woman? It looked like they were having a great time. 

A beautiful woman with white hair, lusciously painted lips and nails, dressed nicely, ingratiates herself with them.

You saw that glass of wine on the table. 

And then there's the woman who touches your boyfriends like that. Rubbing their arms, touching their chests and backs. Speaking with a smile. Satoru was smiling too. 

Besides, her smile clearly showed her intentions.

She likes them.

And they didn't seem to object...

You felt your heart hurt.

How could you think that you could have boyfriends like that??

They are out of your league. This woman is way out of your league. She fits them better. 

You are an ordinary woman who lives in a block of flats that is neither the cheapest nor the most expensive. You work in an office. You're ordinary. 

How could you ever think you could have a happy life with someone as special as them? 

Your Life couldn't be a book in which a handsome rich man meets a normal girl and honestly falls in love with her at first sight. 

It wasn't a fairy tale.

Once upon a time, when you were feeling down, you wondered if you even deserved them.

Now you see the answer.

They are out of your league. With beautiful women who surround them with smiles. 

Fingers gripping the fabric of your pants, you watched with tears wanting to come out as they both looked at you and whispered your name. 

But without looking at it any longer, you just started walking towards the exit. Ignoring how they were calling your name and running after you.

You didn't want to disturb them in their real life where they belonged.

[foundersweek]

Prompts and rules 2023

Hello, dear fellow fans of our beloved Founders <3 The event goes into the next round! Here are now the prompts and rules for the event in 2023. If any questions occure, please don’t hesitate to contact us!

The event happens here on Tumblr and on our Twitter @FoundersWeek. On both platforms the Hashtag is #FoundersWeek2023. Please use only this hashtag as other versions of it won't be checked. If we still miss your work after 48h of posting feel free to hit us with a pole ^^

The event runs from 20 November to 26 November. You can submit your work on ao3 to the FoundersWeek2023 collection, if you like.

The main prompt list

[image desc.: Kid Hashirama and Madara sit on the prompt list. The title reads "The Founders Week2023". The prompt list follows: Day 1: lingerie / reincarnation / unlikely friendships/relationships Day 2: cultural differences / fire & forest / a sign of loyalty Day 3: any AU / any swap (generation, body, role ect.) / Crossovers Day 4: forgiveness / time travel / ultimate betrayal Day 5: prank/experiment gone wrong / girl boss / beast within Day 6: “How dangerous, to finally have something to lose” / ghost wedding / held for ransom Day 7: founders trying to fight off the emus / genderfuckery / lost cat

Suggested AUs: Gods AU, Historical AU, Myth AU, Modern AU, Supernatural AU, SciFi AU, Timeswap AU [/id]

The graphic was done by @annekalabaza ❤

Alternative prompts and rules under the cut.

Alternative prompts

Without a sound They disappeared Without a sound God interfered We all witnessed the rapture And we mourn for those Who got lost In the great divide

Blind Guardian - Let It Be No More

Summer's in the air and, baby, heaven's in your eyes I'm your national anthem

Lana Del Ray - National Anthem

Enjoy memories, yes, but don't be a slave to who you wish you once had been.

Brandon Sanderson - Tress Of The Emerald Sea

Rules

Mods are @elenyafinwe​ (tumblr) and AlismaeGullran (Twitter)

The event takes place from 20 November to 26 November.

You can participate in any form you like. Write Fanfics, draw something awesome, post headcanons, make edits. Whatever you like. Your work doesn’t have to be in English, I trust you to follow the rules ^^

Only new works please. If you have a yet unpublished WIP, that’s fine tho!  

Post your work wherever you want, but if you want it to be featured here, please make a Tumblr post with the work and/or the link to your work, tag this blog and use the hashtag for the event #FoundersWeek2023.

You can, of course, use the hashtag on other social media, too.

In the post put in all the necessary tags that apply to your work and add warnings accordingly. Please also add the prompt you choose.

NSFW is allowed (just don’t post it fully on Tumblr), as well as any Dead Dove. Just tag it properly. Generally speaking: Any content is allowed that’s also allowed on ao3. It simply has to be tagged. However, any form of harrasment of other content creators over their content for the event is not allowed and will be banned from the event.

AI works of any kind are forbidden!

The main focus of your work has to be on any of the Founders. Any pairing is allowed as well as other characters that appear.

You can do all prompts, some prompts or no prompts at all … or even more than one prompt per day, if you can manage that. If you don’t like the main prompt list, you can use the alternative prompts and/or mix both lists together. Whatever you like.

You can interpret the prompts as freely as you wish.

The main event takes place in the above mentioned week. But let’s be honest: If you find this blog after this and want to add something to the party feel free to do so! Late submissions will be accepted any time after the official end. However, I will not check the Hashtag forever, so better tag this blog.

No pressure, just have fun.

@faneventshub @fandomweeks @narutoandborutoevents @narutoevents

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Act 13: Budding Spring - Episode 10: Forced Into The Starting Gate

Itaru: (I should start getting ready to leave… Oh, right.)

Itaru: (Now that I have a rough idea of our performance schedule, I should apply for paid leave.)

Boss: Chigasaki-kun, can I borrow you for 15 minutes?

Itaru: — — Yes.

-

Boss: I believe this is everyone.

Itaru: (Everyone being me and a couple of my colleagues and… They’re only guys I don’t mesh with, huh.)

Boss: The reason I called you all here is to discuss whether you would be interested in participating in an urban development project that the company is currently promoting.

Boss: I may be asking you to participate, but the project is already in its final stages. What I would like from you is to provide support.

Itaru: (A large scale urban development project overseas? It’s the development of a theater facility that will become the center of arts and culture and its surroundings.) 

Itaru: (I looked over the synopsis because it seemed interesting that it’s got to do with theater.)

Boss: Participation is not mandatory, of course, as this will run parallel with your current work.

Boss: That being said… There is a reason you were chosen.

Boss: As individuals who are considered the future of this company, I would like you to become core members of the next project.

Itaru: (Eight horses have entered the gate for the promotion race. The most popular one is Outgoing Ghost Monster, the one attracting attention is Rich AF Parents.)

Colleague A: I will do my best to meet your expectations.

Colleague B: I’ve been interested in this project for a long time, I would be honored to participate!

Itaru: (The gate has opened, and all horses have started running at the same time.)

Colleague C: Considering the progress of the work I am in charge of, I should be able to participate as well.

Itaru: I apologize… Could I ask for some time to think about this?

Itaru: (I would’ve probably participated if it wasn’t for this timing…)

Itaru: (Honestly, my head is filled with the theater company and the Fleur Award, I can’t fit anything new in there.)

Boss: … Ah, you also have your theater company to think about, Chigasaki-kun. Please make sure to consider your schedule.

Boss: Because this project’s theme has to do with the arts, the team members asked for you to be included as well.

Colleague A: …

Itaru: I’m grateful.

Boss: I will set up another opportunity to explain the training’s content and to introduce the team’s members, I’d appreciate your participation.

Itaru: Thank you very much.

[Door clicking]

Itaru: …

Colleague B: He can’t just think about it and then refuse.

Colleague C: Must be nice to be in a position where you can survive even if you quit your job.

Colleague A: It’s a popular theater company, and since they’re so well-know it’s probably hard for our company to deal with too.

Itaru: …

Itaru: (At least talk about this somewhere I can’t hear you.)

-

Chikage: I’m really sorry, I’ve got my hands full at the moment.

Employee A: Is that so? I apologize for springing this on you so suddenly.

Chikage: Feel free to let me know any time I can be of help.

Chikage: …

Itaru: Should we go somewhere good, Senpai?

Chikage: … I don’t even want to guess what that is, but let’s hear it.

Itaru: What’s that supposed to mean?

Chikage: *sigh* You don’t give me much of a choice. I’ll keep you some company.

-

[Punching sfx]

Itaru: Delivering a crit and then a hook combo, aaaand KO! Ah, this really is the best way to go at it.

Chikage: You’re not hiding your true feelings at all.

Itaru: *siiigh* I really hate this. Only those who want to participate in the race for career advancement should enter the gates.

Itaru: And anyway, you should just quit if you don’t wanna do it. Directing that hatred towards me is just wrong.

Itaru: Being a level between a noob and a mid-ranker is so lame. You don’t have as many rights as a mid-ranker does.

Chikage: Not that there are a lot of middle level players around.

Itaru: I understand that the company has high expectations for the “elite Chigasaki-san”. That’s why they hired me after I graduated and diligently raised me like cattle.

Itaru: I make use of my physical appearance and do everything half-heartedly, but I can understand how desperate my colleagues are to advance their careers.

Itaru: From their perspective, someone who has several irons in the fire and talks flippantly is probably really annoying.

Itaru: And a triple combo finisher— But still, I’m trying to figure out where I stand, so I wish they’d let me be.

Itaru: Must be nice for you, Senpai, you travel overseas and advance your career in a non-complicated way.

Itaru: The criticism you receive probably isn’t that harsh, either.

Itaru: Me on the other hand, I’m stuck being the “capable guy” who does decent local work.

Itaru: At the end of the day, I’m just a handyman.

Itaru: Even if I’m treated favorably, it’s not like I’m being lax with my work. I may not be motivated, but I want to believe I’m doing everything I’m supposed to.

Chikage: Neither your mouth nor your hands seem to be letting up.

Itaru: I wonder what I should be aiming for to begin with.

Itaru: Should I become a corporate slave like you, and aim for a high place where no one will complain about me, or should I reach a position that will scream “Itaru Chigasaki”?

Chikage: Sounds like a conversation you should be having with your father. (1)

Chikage: Shouldn’t you think about what you want to do first?

Itaru: What I’m aiming for… Well, I guess I want to maintain the status quo, so I won’t get criticized as often. No. I want to retire as early as possible with passive income…?

Chikage: Stop spending in gacha and start investing.

Itaru: That’s asking for too much.

Itaru: … I chose this job because of its benefits, and got it out of luck, I’m not really looking to advance my career.

Itaru: Our theater company is somehow made up of people who mostly engage in two trades at the same time, but they all have a dream and enjoy what they do.

Itaru: Compared to them, my job is just a source of income. Sometimes, I feel like I don’t have much to give back to the theater company.

Itaru: Even though right now is an important time for the Spring Troupe, I’ve found myself caught up in the promotion horse race with my coworkers talking behind my back.

Chikage: In your case, your hobby is more useful to the theater company.

Itaru: ^ This. Honestly, I keep wondering whether I’ve got any reason to keep working as a salaryman, but I don’t have the courage or confidence to focus solely on acting.

Itaru: I wanna have some sort of insurance, so to speak.

Itaru: *sigh*~ To think I’d have such student-like worries at my big age… Do you never think about such things, Senpai?

Chikage: Well… My job’s got various merits, you know.

Itaru: Various merits?

Chikage: Various merits.

Itaru: I see? Looks like you won’t elaborate.

Chikage: No matter where you work, there are times you’ll be praised and times you’ll be criticized. And it’s not just you.

Chikage: It’s the same for me too, depending on who’s looking at me. I think I’m satisfied with having my theater activities praised.

Itaru: But if we’re actually nominated for the Fleur Award this time, it’ll be difficult to get the company to accommodate for you.

Chikage: The company evaluates your performance, after all. If you can’t contribute in improving the company’s image, you’ll be told to focus on your work.

Chikage: That being said, this doesn’t change the fact that we need to bring good results during our next performance.

Itaru: That’s true… Okay, Winner! *exhale*, I think a load’s off my shoulders.

Itaru: Oh, yeah. Weren’t you also asked to take care of something, Senpai?

Chikage: Ah… I was asked to accompany a client to an overseas meeting as their interpreter, but I declined because I don’t have the time for it.

Itaru: Guess cheaters have it hard too. Though there’s gotta be people who are jealous of the fact that you can go sightseeing as an interpreter.

Chikage: I mean, it’s not a country I really want to go to.

Itaru: But you understand its language.

Chikage: Guess so.

Itaru: Okay, we get it, you’re cheating.

previous episode | masterpost | next episode

NOTES:

(1) the actual exchange here involves itaru making a joke with his name (『茅ヶ崎至』に至; "chigasaki itaru" ni itaru), and chikage replying with 'you've got both dad jokes and undodgeable attacks'. i had to entirely drop this and let it get lost in translation because i couldn't come up with a dad joke

(2) the literal translation for the episode title is 'forced gate-in', but because i wasn't sure this term is actually used in english, i decided to change it

[calchexxis]

I want to talk about the runtime of Goncharov for a minute. Yes, its infamous three-hour-plus runtime. It’s always been kind of hotly contested that Goncharov is far too long for its content, but I’d argue that it’s a story that couldn’t possibly be told in less time, even if it does drag a little in parts it doesn’t change the fact that every scene is important to the advancement of the characters.

Like, yes, the poker scene goes on forever. We all agree on that. But at the same time, where would you even cut it? It’s one of Sofia’s defining moments where she’s both physically and symbolically ‘joining the table’ as a player rather than just another card in the hand of a powerful man. It’s her apex moment where she’s risen out of her impoverished beginnings to enter the world of wealth, power, and decadence, and of course over the span of that long scene you almost see the movie play out in microcosm, with bluffs (betrayals) made and bets (fortunes) won and lost. It’s beautifully scripted, and cutting any part of it would have been a disaster.

Likewise, the part with Katya and Sofia in the bathroom of the Piazza is almost fourteen forking minutes but once again. Where would you cut it? All the focus is on Katya delicately doing Sofia’s makeup while she explains her disdain for her husband and his work and all the failures of the revolution that were ruined by power-hungry men. Those fourteen minutes are used to let us see Katya verbally shred everything about her own life, all while paradoxically opening the door for Sofia to step into it and get herself mixed up in it, but an underappreciated part of that is Sofia herself. We all focus on Katya’s monologue but I’m begging you, go back and watch it--just the scene, you don’t have to watch the whole movie (although if you haven’t seen it, do it) and watch Sofia’s face for that whole 14 minute speech.

Watch how mesmerized she is by Katya, how her expressions change, showing so much emotion even as she struggles not to so as to keep the fresh makeup Katya is lovingly applying intact (another great bit of symbolism btw). It’s a perfect recreation, almost, of their final scene together, when Katya is **SPOILERS** dying in the back of the car and Sofia is holding her and delicately cleaning her up, and both of them are keeping a straight face the entire time.

And I could go on and on (can you tell I like Katya/Sofia) touching on other scenes, like the big one with all the mafia bosses in the Cattedrale di San Gennaro where Goncharov and Andrey have their famous tête-à-tête, or that really excellent long shot they did of the walk down the entirety of the Naples boardwalk.

Anyway, I feel like the runtime is something that’s fair to complain about, but I also think of it as a kind of conscious choice. Every moment is used, but how it’s used can be contentious. Matteo took a risk by trying to do the wrong thing in the right way, and I think it paid off, even if it took a while to notice.

[uaremyjae]

My thoughts on my One Piece journey and How it’s affected me 🩷

This is going to be long ass post lol

I think this is the platform that I never knew that I will ever comeback to but you know because of one piece and deprived of Sanji, Nami & Law content, ✨ here I am 😁✨ *shamelessly comeback after abandoned tumblr for good 11 years lmao*.

Anyway, I just want to let out my thoughts on my one piece journey and how it affected me. So bear with me. This is only place I can talk about One Piece because other platforms I had is related to kpop * Yes I’m a kpop fan. HEAVY ON NCT. Neo Got My Back.*

I know about one piece way back when I’m teenager. It’s just I don’t start to watch it/ read it somehow?? Idk why 🤷‍♀️ I’m also confused to as why because I did grew up watch anime like FMAB, Naruto, Bleach, Black Butler, K-On, Fairy Tail on tv. HECK I EVEN WATCH THE LONG ASS DETECTIVE CONAN TOO 😭

I think it’s because back in the day ( 2010 - 2017 ), I had lack of access to internet and not exposed to the series at all. Besides the local TV station here, only aired Naruto ,Bleach and those anime I mentioned . *I’m just 24 years old btw*

So around September 2023, I came across to One Piece content on TikTok and funny enough it’s Brook edit! I was so intrigued with this character and little did I know I watch a bunch of One Piece clip here and there on TikTok. To be fair, I am basically spoiled myself that time 😬 but I’m the type dgaf if I got spoiled because I won’t remember at all later on. 🤷‍♀️

So I decide to start watch it. First few episodes, my reaction was like “ Okay Luffy is an interesting guy🧐his body stretches and always smiled! He got damn hands tho ngl”. Zoro, my reaction was like “ahaaa SO THIS IS ZORO THAT EVERYONE KEEP TALKING ABOUT. Quite a Stud.”

Nami, interesting female character that I can relate because I like money 🤑 and her backstory is so sad. Ussop is also another character I gradually love over the time!

Then COMES MY HUSBANDO, SANJI. Man I have a thing for a man who can cook and looks good in suits. Sanji really makes me having my first anime crush ever! I DONT HAVE A CRUSH ON ANYONE IN NARUTO & Detective Conan but One Piece made me have one 🤧 *The upgrade from loving a guy that exist but doesn’t know you exist ( haechan,jaehyun & jaemin bb i luv you guys but Sanji 😮‍💨) to loving a guy who are not exist on this plane of earth 👀*

Little did I know I start to binge watch it. First day of watching, 30 episodes in 6 hours. 10 days later I already watch 325 episodes . but the show is so good! The story telling that oda created really hit home to me and the foreshadowing & lore he created makes me hooked unlike other story that I have read & watched.

Here’s the thing, to me every anime that I watch, I never like finish it . Sometimes I would just watch last ep and called it the day. This is not only apply on anime, it’s apply to western shows, my own local shows & k-dramas. So One Piece truly like solidified their place on my heart. I finally can understand why one piece are so loved for decades!

Also during those times, I hit rock bottom too. I quit my job because I was falsely accused for stealing shit at my work place and being discriminated by my ex-boss due to being the youngest one for my entire work.( everyone else was in their 40’s ). That time I was desperate as I need some money to achieve my bucket-list and want to lessen the burden of my family. Lord heavens knows what I’m going through, got death threats by that mf. Twisted the truth that causing my whole family cut ties with her severely. From there, I felt so stress and worried.

So One Piece is my way of escapism and it’s been a beautiful and exciting journey. Compared to last time, I took a 7 months breaks from works due to burn out & anxiety, this time it doesnt took long for me to overcome those situations and my “year-end blues” that I called is not as bad as before. I also has been actively try to get a job asap so I can buy an Ipad as I want to start learning digital drawing again after watching one piece.

One piece teach me it’s never late to start a new journey towards your dream! I used to dream to be a graphic designer or animators but my family don’t want me to be that. They want me to have that conservative jobs like working in government, an accountant etc. so essentially I gave up those dreams so I can make them proud of me. It’s been bothering me for so long as I felt like I should have go for what I want not what people want. At the end, I abandoned my accountancy knowledge and worked as an admin & a baker which I found a lot more less stressful that being an accountant. I guess what people describe after knows me personally being a confident, free-spirited & rebellious is just the way I am. AND oddly enough One Piece is just perfect manga & anime for me!

At this point, I already caught up with anime. I’m a weekly basis anime watchers now. I also has caught up with manga too. It’s been a huge revealing & fresh experience of One Piece for me. I felt like I being myself again! It’s weird but it’s the truth! I never felt so at ease and being seen. I just want to do what I want. It’s just fitting fate for me to be a One Piece fan!

That’s all what I want to say… if you really read this till the end. Thank you!