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certifiablyinsanez · 1 day ago

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Mammon is great ace representation: an essay on aphobia in the Hellaverse fandom

I’m seeing a lot of people be mad about Mammon having a thing for Leviathan. And I’m going to need the fandom to step back and examine these issues, because they are 100% rooted in aphobia. I have been out as an oriented aroace person for over 10 years if you want to doubt my credentials, rather than listen to my analysis, lived experience and reflect.

So. Tell me Hellaverse fandom; why, when it comes to Alastor, who is a character who very clearly has zero interest in others, it is always a chorus of people saying “aces can have sex”, “aces can enjoy sex”, “it’s not harmful to the ace community to use Alastor for shipping material, he isn’t real and asexuality and aromanticism is a huge spectrum”, “Aroace people can still date and have sex”?

But when it comes to Mammon, he is “bad asexual representation”, he “clearly experiences sexual attraction”, “he can’t be demisexual”, etc.

No genuinely, why is this? I want you to examine this, think on it from a place of neutral examination and come to your own conclusions. Because this is a worrisome double standard. This can for starters, be an instance of fat phobia. Because out of the two of them, Alastor is thin, and therefore closer to the beauty standard, which is hysterical considering that Alastor canonically has horrible hygiene, and I don’t think I know a single person who thinks that stank ass body and breath is attractive. Mammon, as seen from the slovenly way he eats, can potentially be assumed to have poor hygiene as well, but it has a very different connotation because of his weight. [Research the connection between thin privilege and body odor/hygiene. It’s very real].

I can spend a lot of time and energy going into the shipping dynamics between the shows, as well as how Alastor is a more “shippable” character in comparison to Mammon, but I honestly don’t find this as interesting or as compelling as to what I’m about to say next.

Because aphobia in the real world is still very alive and well today. In my 10+ years of being in the ace community, I have genuinely spent a lot of emotional energy, time, knowledge, experience, and compassion, just fighting for the right to even be acknowledged as queer. I have vivid memories from when I was first out of the closet at the age of 16, telling ace people across apps and forums that they were valid, that they weren’t broken, that they were deserving of love, respect, and a place in the queer community. I was telling people, younger, my age, and older that they shouldn’t kill themselves, that they had worth beyond what they could do in the bedroom for others. I had to convince people that they didn’t owe anyone sex, and that they were in fact being sexually abused by their partners. I was on the phone with people in tears. I spent HOURS of my life in these DMs at an age where I was a suffering, mentally ill queer child that was also being victimized by aphobia. Still to this day people think the “A” stands for ally. And still to this day people have discord about our community as a whole. I have had to sit and watch as people went from loudly proclaiming with their whole chest that asexual people didn’t exist, or at the very least weren’t queer. Then years went by and it became less and less okay to say things like that, because asexual people finally had fought long enough and had supported each other enough that we discovered our voices and began to use them. So people were finally facing the consequences of saying bigoted shit.

And now that they can’t say that asexuals aren’t queer, they moved on to another group. Demisexuals. Demisexuals by far have it roughest, because while there are many micro labels in our community to explain our diverse range of experiences, demisexual is probably the most well known one. And every handful of months or so I have to use my voice once again to stand up for my people, because an attack on one of us is an attack on all of us, and people on the internet have made it clear that they have no qualms of attacking us. The asexual and aromantic community have made extremely valuable contributions to the queer community that are entirely overlooked because we are not valued in it.

And this is why I have been an outspoken proponent of my displeasure over Alastor being a character that is the most shipped with others, and my disdain for the fanbase has grown even wider after Mammons appearance in Mastermind. It is a painful reminder of all the discrimination I’ve faced over the years, that my community still goes through. Because people are contrarians. Alastor is canonically asexual, and other aspects of his character are reflective of aromanticism as well. Well, the fanbase doesn’t like this so much. If you genuinely pay attention, you’ll notice this is a trend with a lot of other aroace characters. My favorite example is Peridot from Steven Universe, a canonical aroace character. In the show, Peridot goes through a lot of unlearning and growth. The scene where she tries to fuse with Garnet has massive implications for a few reasons. Because one, she is genuine in her desire to understand Garnet, and fusion better. And two, fusion while forbidden on Homeworld, is commonplace and normal in the Crystal Gems. As a Crystal Gem, she feels this is what is now expected of her. This is a major experience in the aspec community, as living in a cis heteronormative society means that sex, marriage and children are all things expected of each individual, which is dangerous and harmful ideology to everyone, asexual/aromantic people as well. Peridot couldn’t go through with the fusion, but that didn’t stop the fandom salivating, and foaming at the mouth over a potential Lapis/Peridot fusion. People were genuinely mad at Rebecca Sugar for never making that pairing canon, when they had absolutely no right to behave the way they did. Let’s not forget how the fans also misgendered Rebecca Sugar constantly. It was absolutely bigoted.

This is happening with Alastor. Fans feel entitled to ship him with whomever, an entitlement that is not seen with other characters. When people ship Vaggie with Angel, there is backlash, and for good reason. Because people understand that despite the fact that Vivienne Medrano said people can ship whatever, shipping a gay man with a woman and a gay woman with a man is…gross. It is wrong, it is disrespectful of their identities, and is forcing heteronormativity onto characters that are strict in their sexualities. Most people are able to recognize the thinly veiled homophobia. But Alastor does not receive the same treatment, and in fact receives the opposite treatment. I don’t know what I could say to convince you that the aroace coded character in a show being the #1 most shipped is thinly veiled aphobia the same way Vaggie x Angel is thinly veiled homophobia.

Now what does that have to do with Mammon? Mammon seems to not be aroace coded like Alastor, and for some reason, that has thoroughly pissed people off. Because Mammon is not the “acceptable” caricature of an asexual person. Most allosexual (non-asexual and/or aromantic people) view being asexual as being synonymous with being aromantic, which shows a painful lack of understanding and at times respect for the diversity of our community. Alastor fits this category, so he’s an “acceptable asexual”, while also essentially being a toy for shippers. But Mammon, with his clear attraction to Leviathan, is a “bastardization” of the asexual image. When we aren’t being viewed as broken, we’re often being viewed as chaste, virginal, and innocent with attachments to infantilization. But Mammon, with his aggressive and even icky approach to flirting with Leviathan, is seen as a subversion of this, which for people who don’t understand our community, hate. And these people are blaming Vivienne for having “terrible ace rep” when in actuality, having multiple ace characters having very little in common is actually fantastic rep. Because there are many labels in our community that Mammon can fit into as an asexual. To me, he looks like a sex-positive, high libido, demisexual. He’s known Leviathan for thousands of years, of course it makes sense that he would be into her, but not into anyone else which would explain why his “posse” are just female robots. This could also be because of his classism, but I genuinely think that he’s just demisexual. And you already know how people feel about demisexuals.

If you’ve read this far and have genuinely set aside your biases and personal feelings like I requested in the beginning, I appreciate that. Because from my own lived experience, the double standard between Alastor and Mammon doesn’t annoy me; it frightens me.

Because what the fandom is actually saying when they do these things is this:

“We see you as a homogenous group. Your voices go in one ear and out the other. If you don’t conform to our values and standards, we won’t give you the respect or recognition you deserve. If you don’t conform to my view of your group, you lose my “allyship”. We do not see your identity as a sexuality in its own right, but rather a literary device we can play with. I do not care to learn more about your community, your culture, or your struggles. I barely (if at all) acknowledge you as your own sexual minority and marginalized group. I barely acknowledge (if at all) that you are queer at all. I do not care about your feelings about societal biases that I might carry, I don’t care about how you’ve lived it, because it takes away my fun and fantasies. Because I devalue your group as a whole, your voices mean little. Your narrative is mine to do with as I please.”

I really hope you can see my perspective and understand the sincere place this comes from. Thanks for reading.

#hazbin hotel #hazbinhotel #helluva boss #helluva boss mammon #alastor is aro ace #hazbin alastor #alastor #asexual #aromantic #aro ace lesbian #aromantism #asexuality #asexual issues #aphobia #tw homophobia #ace discourse

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supercap2319 · 2 days ago

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So I just saw wicked and I desperately need something with Fiyero having his sights set not on Glinda but Glinda’s brother y/n

Y/N Upland always knew that he was different. From a young age, he realized that he didn't fit in with the rest of his family, and not just because he was attracted more to boys than girls. When he was born, Y/N was given the rare gift of ice and snow, bringing great promise to the Upland name.

His mother and father tried to turn his talent into something that would make Y/N think he was better than the rest of the people of Oz, but Y/N didn't want that. He just wanted to be normal. That's why he made himself scarce as much as possible. He dressed in normal clothing and he preferred to be alone, instead of playing with other children his age. Then came Galinda, the pride and joy of the Uplands. Galinda was beautiful and had a certain way of getting whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. The biggest difference between Y/N and his sister… he chose books. She chose looks, and it was certainly working out better for Galinda than Y/N.

She was beloved by all in Gillikin Country. The one everyone thought would succeed, whereas Y/N, would be the first ever person to disgrace his family as the ‘Upland Freak of Nature.’ And maybe they were right. To an extent. The cost of powers always came with a price, and even though Y/N was powerful, he was very bad at controlling them. It was one of the main—if not the most important -- reason to attend Shiz University to gain a better understanding of his powers, and how to properly control them. Unsurprisingly, Galinda was also majoring in sorcery.

That's how he and Galinda arrived on a pink boat to Shiz University, Galinda practically bouncing with excitement. Her pink outfit was pressed and crisp as her nails. “Oh, Y/N! I simply can't wait to attend Madame Morrible's sorcery seminar. I just know I'm going to ace it.” She flashed pretty white teeth that hurt Y/N’s eyes. He pulled his sparkly blue cape over his shoulders. “I'm sure you will, and maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to help me with this.” He made a small snowflake dance on the palm of his hand before closing it.

“Of course, brosicle.” Galinda laughed.

Once they were close enough to the school, Galinda stood on the back of the boat and sat down on her luggage, looking like a queen on her throne. A few students in blue and brown uniforms waved to them as Galinda waved back. Y/N looked down at the water until they were docked. Stepping off the boat, Galinda and her ten thousand pieces of luggage were greeted by their mother and father at the docks.

“Oh, we're so proud of you!” Their father said, as he and their mother gave Galinda kisses. “Thank you. I love you. Just remember, it's not goodbye. It's farewell.” Galinda told them.

“We love you.” Their mother said, finally taking notice of Y/N. “Oh, and you too, sweetie. You'll be good. Probably not as good as your sister, but good enough.” She said.

“Wow. Thank you, mother. Your words of reassurance melt my heart.” Y/N said, tone sarcastic.

Arduenna Upland looks at his son. “You make sure to look after Galinda, Y/N. See to it that she's comfortable, and well taken care of.”

“Of course, father. I wouldn't dream of disappointing you and mother again for the what? Sixtieth time?” He said.

“Just don't do anything to make trouble.” Arudeena said. He looks at Galinda and smiles with happiness and pride. “Have all your kisses? And you will write?”

“Yes. I love you. Sad time. Miss you already.” Galinda said.

“Popsicle board the boat.” Y/N said.

“They are going to miss me so much.”

“Us.”

“Right. That's what I said. Us.” Galinda said.

…

“Attention, students! It is my honor to announce that Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country will be filling out our student body. Having transferred from the Royal Winkie Academy. Please help him feel welcome. Without making direct eye contact.”

That's how Y/N and all of the student body at Shiz found themselves in the courtyard by the fountain, waiting for some spoiled Prince from Winkie country. Y/N to suppress the urge to roll his eyes as the Prince rode in on a horse. A blue horse. How original. Lines of male and female suitors were watching as the Fiyero walked passed, his black boots echoing against the ground. Some winked at him, while others twirled their hair in hopes of catching the Prince’s attention. He seemed unbothered.

Fiyero had light brown hair with blonde streaks on it. He wore a tailored navy blue suit with golden trimmings. He headed towards the bulletin board and asked a gawking male student to move as a faculty member checked out his ass. Y/N rolled his eyes from his position across from where Fiyero was. He has been studying with Madame Morrible and another student named Elphaba. He was currently reading a book about the history of ice magic in Oz as he watched Galinda swipe a book from a nearby student, and tried to pretend to be uninterested.

“Are you looking for something?” Galinda asked. She flips her blonde hair dramatically. “Or��someone?”

“No, I was…” Fiyero starts, but stops when his eyes look past Galinda and looked at Y/N.

Y/N frowns. Why was Prince McDimples looking at him like that?

“Sorry…what was I doing?” Fiyero asked.

“How would I know?” Galinda shrugged.

“Maybe it was that young man over there.” Fiyero smiles in Y/N’s direction. Galinda follows his gaze and frowns. “That's Y/N. My brother.”

“Brother you say? Well, I fancy I should meet him as well, don't you agree?”

“I guess.” Galinda pouted as Fiyero had eyes for Y/N, but her.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #fiyero tigelaar #wicked #wicked 2024 #fiyero tigelaar x reader #jonathan bailey #bi #gay #lbgtq

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vibeswithdivs · 6 hours ago

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He’s more patient than he looks

Part 2

pairing: max verstappen x reader

The summer heat hung heavy over the Red Bull Racing paddock as the season reached its peak. With each race, the team’s social media presence grew, and she found herself more deeply embedded in the world of Formula 1. Max was no longer just the star driver she admired from afar; he was now a trusted colleague and a friend.

Their camaraderie blossomed, each shared laugh drawing them closer as they worked together on various projects.

“Okay, Max,” she said, rolling her eyes playfully as she set up her camera for another behind-the-scenes shoot. “Let’s get serious for a second. What’s your favorite flavor of energy drink?”

He raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “That’s not serious at all! It’s obviously the Red Bull Tropical flavor. Are you trying to get me in trouble?”

She laughed, adjusting the tripod. “If you keep it honest, I think they’ll appreciate it. But seriously, what’s your go-to?”

“Fine,” he relented, feigning exasperation. “My go-to is the sugar-free version. Less crash, more speed.”

“Okay, sugar-free it is!” she called out, grinning as she positioned the camera. “Now, tell me why fans should choose it over the others.”

Max leaned closer to the camera, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Because if you want to be fast like me, you need to cut the sugar!” He struck a pose, flexing his biceps with a playful smirk.

She stifled a laugh, shaking her head. “You know you’re the worst at this, right?”

“Absolutely. But I’m also the fastest,” he shot back, winking.

Their playful banter continued through the shoot, the atmosphere light and filled with laughter. Max was surprisingly good in front of the camera, his natural charisma shining through. Every time she asked him to repeat a line, he would roll his eyes dramatically but always obliged, turning the mundane into something entertaining.

After filming a series of promotional videos, they moved on to social media challenges, which were quickly becoming a fan favorite. One challenge involved a trivia game about Formula 1 history, and Max was convinced he’d ace it.

“Ready to lose?” she teased, setting up the first question.

“No way. I’m a walking encyclopedia of F1 facts,” he replied confidently.

“Let’s see about that,” she said, her excitement bubbling over.

The first question popped up on her phone screen: Who was the first driver to win a Formula 1 World Championship for Red Bull Racing?

Max’s brow furrowed in concentration. “That’s easy—Sebastian Vettel!”

She clapped, grinning. “Correct! One point for the Verstappen.”

He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms smugly. “I told you I’d win.”

The next question, however, caught him off guard. What year did Red Bull Racing debut in Formula 1?

Max hesitated, glancing up as if he were searching the air for answers. “Uh… 2005?”

“Wrong! It was 2005, but they didn’t start racing until 2006!” she corrected, laughing at his playful frustration.

“Wait, I should get half a point for being close!” he protested, throwing his hands up.

“Nice try, but no. Let’s keep it fair,” she replied, wiping away tears of laughter.

Max feigned betrayal, dramatically placing a hand on his chest. “You wound me.”

As the trivia continued, their laughter echoed around the paddock. It was moments like these that made her realize how much she enjoyed Max’s company, his easy humor and contagious enthusiasm lifting her spirits even on the most chaotic days.

With every interaction, their friendship deepened. Max’s willingness to answer her questions about racing, his insight into the team’s dynamics, and the way he supported her social media efforts created a bond she hadn’t anticipated.

“Alright, Checo, your turn!” she said, holding up her phone to capture Sergio Pérez’s reaction.

Sitting cross-legged in the hospitality unit, Checo smiled lazily, clearly at ease. “What is this challenge again?”

“It’s the One-Chip Hot Challenge,” she explained with mock seriousness, handing him a single, ominously red tortilla chip. “You eat this, answer as many questions as you can in one minute, and try not to cry.”

Max snorted from his seat beside Checo. “Careful, mate. She’s out to get us today.”

“Oh, come on!” she protested, grinning. “It’s for the fans. They love seeing you both suffer.”

“I feel very supported,” Checo quipped, taking the chip from her. “Let’s do this.”

The timer started, and chaos ensued. As Checo bit into the chip, his confident expression faltered, replaced by wide eyes and a frantic search for water. Max dissolved into laughter, nearly falling off his chair.

“Question one: What year did you get your first F1 podium?” she asked, suppressing her own giggles.

“2012!” Checo gasped, his voice strained.

“Correct! Question two: Who has more wins, you or Max?”

Checo glared at her through watery eyes. “Him, obviously!”

“Right again. Okay, question three: Who’s more handsome—”

“Me,” Max interrupted, grinning.

Checo waved him off, reaching for the water bottle just out of reach. “You’re the worst! Next question!”

By the end of the minute, Checo was red-faced and fanning his mouth, while Max was still laughing uncontrollably. She stopped recording and set her phone down, unable to contain her laughter.

“You’re evil,” Checo told her, finally managing a sip of water.

“And you’re a great sport,” she replied, grinning.

“The fans are going to love this.”

Max leaned closer, still chuckling. “You’re getting too good at this job. We might have to keep an eye on you.”

“Only if you can keep up,” she teased, nudging his shoulder.

As the weeks rolled on, the rhythm of race weekends became a familiar beat. The team worked seamlessly, and she often found herself in the thick of things, collaborating with different departments to capture the energy of each event.

Race day was always an adrenaline-fueled affair, but this one felt particularly electric. The stands were packed with fans, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement. The sun shone brightly, illuminating the cars as they lined up on the grid.

“Ready?” Max asked, his expression serious yet focused.

“More than ready,” she replied, trying to hide the fluttering in her stomach.

“Remember, just stay calm and capture the excitement. Don’t worry about the little things.”

“Easy for you to say,” she shot back, rolling her eyes.

“You’re the one about to drive at breakneck speeds.”

Max chuckled, the sound soothing her nerves. “Just think of it as another day in the office for you, too.”

She nodded, knowing he was right. With her camera in hand, she moved around the grid, capturing shots of the cars, the crew, and the fans, all while keeping an eye on Max as he prepared for the race.

“Hey!” he called, breaking her concentration.

She looked up, meeting his gaze. “What?”

“Make sure you film my victory lap. It’s going to be epic!”

“Don’t get too cocky!” she shouted back, laughing.

As the cars lined up on the grid, she took her usual spot near the pit wall, ready to capture the start. The roar of the engines and the anticipation in the air made her heart pound, even though she wasn’t the one driving.

The lights went out, and the race began in a blur of sound and speed. Max got a clean start, maintaining his position near the front, while Checo made an aggressive move to gain a place. She followed the action closely, her camera trained on the screens and the pit crew as they reacted to every turn and overtake.

“Come on, Max,” she whispered under her breath, watching him close the gap on the leader.

The first half of the race was uneventful, with both Max and Checo holding steady positions. But as the laps ticked by, the tension began to mount.

It happened in an instant.

Max was pushing hard to overtake when his car hit a curb awkwardly at high speed. The rear end snapped around, and the car spun out of control, slamming into the barriers with a sickening crunch.

Her heart plummeted as the sound of the crash echoed across the circuit. She froze, her camera still trained on the screen as debris flew and smoke billowed from the wreckage.

“No…” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the chaos.

The pit wall erupted into frantic activity, the engineers and mechanics scrambling to assess the situation. The race broadcast cut to a close-up of the crash site, showing Max’s car crumpled against the barrier.

“Max, do you copy?” the race engineer’s voice crackled over the radio, tense with urgency.

There was no response.

Her stomach twisted, and a wave of nausea washed over her. She gripped the edge of the pit wall, her hands trembling as she stared at the screen, willing Max to respond.

“Come on, Max,” she whispered, her throat tight.

“Say something.”

Time seemed to stretch endlessly before the camera finally showed movement in the cockpit. Max raised a hand, signaling to the marshals that he was okay.

The relief was overwhelming, and she let out a shaky breath, her knees nearly giving way. But the sight of him climbing out of the car, visibly shaken and favoring one leg, reignited her worry.

Watching Max limp toward the medical car, she felt an ache she couldn’t explain—a deep, unshakable worry for the person who had become so much more than just a colleague.

The camera felt heavy in her hands, and every update from the medical center sent a fresh wave of anxiety through her.

Her heart clenched, and she made up her mind. Setting her camera aside, she hurried toward the medical center, each step echoing with unanswered questions.

Would he be okay? Was he hurt worse than he let on?

As she approached the doors, her breath caught in her throat. The uncertainty was unbearable, and she braced herself for whatever lay ahead.

#f1 #formula one #max verstappen #formula 1 #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fanfic #max verstappen drabble #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #f1 imagine #imagine

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yuurei20 · 2 days ago

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Short Translation from Twst the 2nd novel: To the Festival (pt1/2) (Connects directly to here)

"They descend the long staircase, turn onto Main Street, and suddenly everything is different from what they are used to seeing. Purple and green garlands sway gracefully overhead as if alive.

The statues of the Great Seven along the street seem to have been polished more carefully than usual, gleaming in reflected sunlight.

As Yuuya walks before the Great Seven statues admiring the beautiful decorations, the lion statue appears last, on his left. Yuuya comes to a stop, his eyes passing over the words carved into its pedestal:

The King of Beasts who ruled the vast plains Never abandoned those who were exiled from their own lands, and strived for an equal world An indomitable king who overcame his origins and claimed his throne through sheer effort

The King of Beasts stands tall and majestic. Despite his unfortunate origins he achieved success through his cleverness, becoming a king beloved even by hyenas who were both feared and shunned in his time.

Everyone here respects the Great Seven, who have each left such a mark upon history. Who knows the looks they would give Yuuya if he were to mention the disrespectful dream he had this morning.

Grim tugs at Yuuya's jacket. ‘Hey Yuu, what are you spacing out for? We gotta get to Side Street right now!’

‘Ah, sorry, sorry. I’m coming.’

Grim is in a hurry because of the market stalls that now line Side Street. They are not run by students, but are instead large-scale operations overseen by both the school and outside vendors.

Yuuya wonders if Grim will find any of them to his liking.

‘Do the stalls sell food, too?’

‘Of course! You can't watch spelldrive without food!’ Ace laughs cheerfully.

‘There are a lot of shops selling souvenirs from Sage’s Isle and memorabilia for the school, but I heard there are just as many food vendors, too. My brother sent me photos way back when, and that was my first time thinking, ‘Night Raven College is really something else!''

‘As president of the Gastronomy Society, I can't miss this! Let's go, Yuu.’

Yuuya follows after Grim, and their surroundings grow steadily livelier with the sounds of students' cheering and the voices of adults setting up shop. Side Street is now almost unrecognizable."

#twstnovel2 #twisted wonderland #twst translations

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roseganymede95 · 2 days ago

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Ok. If this is too personal just ignore me but do you identify as being on the ace spectrum at all? It’s just that the way you write Edwin and Charles’s relationship struck such a chord with my little ace heart.

Like I’m pulling for them to get together but the way Edwin is still like ‘it doesn’t matter if he loves me romantically’ does things to me.

Even if they aren’t written to be ace you have inadvertently hit on the exact thing I personally crave. And just to be clear I don’t think it would be ooc or unnatural for them to develop into a romance (I how they will actually) it’s just that the place you put them in sits so well.

And finally I just want you to know that this series is my fav fanfic in this entire fandom so thank you for giving it to us.

So first and foremost, I am not personally on the ace spectrum. I am, however, someone who really believes that not all relationships can or should be sorted into the platonic/romantic binary. I am all about the gray space in between, and you are not wrong to notice that I am trying really hard to keep the boys’ relationship framed in the gray space.

I also want to be clear that striking a chord in your ace heart is an honor and a privilege. There’s something about the Edwin and Charles relationship that really speaks to a lot of queer and ace and neuro-atypical people, and I’m trying as hard as I can to capture the heart of that.

I don’t think it matters very much if Edwin and Charles are Romantically In Love or not. I do think it matters that they trust each other, and protect each other, and have promised to do literally anything to stay together. I will write romantic Payneland content sometime soon, but when I do that, the romantic relationship isn’t going to be framed as being more important than the relationship they’ve already had for decades.

#dead boy detectives #dbd fic #ask me about my blorbos why doncha #codependency world cup #payneland

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blacklegsanjiii · 3 days ago

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Don't laugh at please, but listen. Fem!Sanji au, but only Sanji is genderbend. She escaped Germa and never met Zeff, but she stranded on a lonely, little island with only a grandma living there. The grandma takes her in and teaches her everything. The grandma soon dies and Sanji grows up alone in the little house. Ofcourse she still gets mail tho from that bird.

She tends to get lonely. She has her own garden full of vegetables. She's still strong tho, needing to fight off some wild animals on her own. Ofcourse she is beautiful (I have something for Fem!Sanji. I just think she would look absolutely gorgeous) She stays there until one day a ship comes. The Whitebeard pirates, ofcourse at first she is suspicious like, but she starts trusting them as she hangs around them. Aside from Teach tho, she has a bad feeling around him, but as she considers herself an outsider, she doesnt say anything. She also grows closer to Ace and they both fall inlove And then they leave, not before asking Sanji if she wants to come with them. She declines and watches them leave, not before kissing Ace for the first time and making him promise to visit her, but regrets it some later... Ah what is done can't be changed.

Until some months later she sees the news of Ace being captured and her heart breaks and she sets off to alone to save her lover.

A Marineford then as Luffy is screaming that he will save Ace, Sanji appears, waving while yelling Ace's name. Ace looks shocked at seeing Sanji. Sanji swears she will scold him after he yelled at her, asking what she was doing here. Remember, Sanji is pretty, so she gets some looks tho.

Yeah, Ace is saved because Sanji helped them get away from Akainu, but Whitebeard dies.

Tell me if you wanna hear more about it, it's just an Au that came in my head some random night and hasn't gotten out of it for weeks now. Just needed to share.

Not laughing, this is sad and heartbreaking and utterly adorable in my humble opinion, here's what I came up with. Feel free to share more though! Sanji, the smallest child of the Vinsmoke family and she is certainly the cutest. She sounds so sweet that she manages to get the keys off the guards and escapes Germa, leaving the helmet behind. She manages to make it to an uninhabited, or at least she thinks that's what it is, and decides death on her own terms is better. She looks around the island and finds a shack and an old woman who greets her with a smile. It's been a long time since she's seen another person, let alone a child. Sanji is looking at her with curiosity as she is taken in by this woman. She learns so much from this woman, hunting, gardening, making her own tools. Sanji takes to it with aplomb, so much more than she thought she would but she loves it. She learns to sew clothes from the sails that was ashore, how to repair the shack. The old woman, Granny she insists on being called, is getting up there in age so she needs Sanji to be self-sufficient. To be able to care for herself. Granny adores the blonde girl, her accent, the way it thickens when she's excited, the way she's grown to know peace.

When the time comes Sanji buries her, a lovely made marker so Sanji can come visit. She's absolutely feral, protective of what's hers. The lack of contact with humans though and only having animals that are sometimes her friends, sometimes her prey, sometimes she's their prey really don't do much for socialization. She's lonely, she talks to Granny sometimes, her hair keeps getting longer and longer and she's going full amazonian/george of the jungle. She sets herself on fire and would have almost burned down the island had it not been a tropical storm. She tells Granny after, and then practices on the beach so she doesn't set anything else on fire. It's useful though, she loves it. Sanji is very quickly becoming a pyromaniac, think Ace on Foosha but worse because there's no one to rein her in. I think that's what catches the attention of the White Beard fleet and making them check on an island that should have nothing but wildlife, Ace is begging to go and the older crew (everyone else) is wavering because what the fuck could be there? Thatch finally agrees and convinces the others to make landfall on the island. Sanji looks at them all as they approach and is looking at them and is gearing for a fight. It's her island. They will not take it from her, not when it's the only safety she knows. No matter how lonely she is, if it was another grandma she might think about it but it's just a bunch of men around her father's age and that-

That is terrifying.

I think Sanji, after being alone for so long after Granny dies, her speech isn't great, not having another person or people to talk to. Her voice is rough and worn and she looks fucking amazing. Long legs on fire, a hand on a homemade spear and a sword that washed up at one point. Ace has a full nosebleed, it's like gruesome and Teach and Marco are trying to get it to stop. She's yelling at them as the worn sail clothing she wears doesn't hide much and she yells at them to ask why they're there. Marco, hands covered in Ace's blood from his nosebleed say they were investigating because they're traveling through their territory. Sanji reads the news, trades the bird for the paper with pretty shells or pieces of hides from animals. She knows of these men, therefore she doesn't trust them. The fact three of them are covered in blood and one of them just gives her a sour vibe does not endear them to her. Marco promises they mean no harm but they'll be passing through more often. Sanji snarls at them and Ace is so fucking whipped and Marco tells him now is not the time for his mommy issues because Ace looks like he wants to prostrate to this woman and beg for her to believe them. She looks at him as he stumbles over his words because she's on fire, her body is a weapon. She's flicking her eyes between them as her legs heat more to start melting the sand under her feet.

Thatch asks what devil fruit she ate which confuses her because she's never seen one. She's strong because she had to be, to survive what she had, after running, after losing Granny, after being alone for so /long/. They ask if they can stay a few days, get to know her, to see what she's done with the place. She agrees hesitantly. Thatch helps the others clean blood off them, fully dunking Ace into the ocean to 'cleanse the dirty bastard of his sins, good fuck, Ace. We're the first people she's seen in years, I know you're young but fuck dude-' Sanji doesn't understand what that means as Marco apologizes and claims to be a doctor. Sanji tilts her head and asks the difference between doctors and scientists and Marco says doctor's care about people because he can kind of see that if he says something different he'll get molten glass kicked at him. Ace after being released finds Sanji and shows her his fire and says Marco can turn into a pheonix, the fire bird, and it's so cool that she hasn't eaten a fruit but can do that. She smiles minutely at him and Ace asks if she can show him around. She takes them around and they look at everything she has done on the island, the shack, the garden, the grave. Thatch shows her some cooking stuff that she watches with so much focus because it smells so good. Ace talks about growing up in a jungle in the East Blue and talks about his time there and Sanji is listening. She asks questions to the best of her abilities and he deciphers them and answers. The elders talk about how this is the longest they've ever seen him sit down in one place. She's good for him, they can all see it. Ace manages to hug her by the end of the first day and Sanji, touch starved and lacking words, folds into him and clings because he's so warm and soft and Teach takes a photo of it. She doesn't trust them still, the older men, but Ace is closer to her age and he's /warm/ so she stays close to him until it's late in the night and she doesn't trust them so she asks them to leave and points at the other side of the island. Not their ship, but definitely away from her. They agree.

The next day they're awoke by Sanji killing something nearby and looks at them and gestures at the massive boar she just killed and Ace scrambles to haul it up and take it back to the shack she lives in. Teach calls him whipped and she says she doesn't have a whip with a frown, being whipped isn't fun, and Ace is trying to say it's a turn of phrase. Sanji wrinkles her nose at that and Ace coos at how adorable she is. He's gone, he's sold, she could tell him to drown and he probably would. Teach looks like he knows this and eyes Sanji carefully. Sanji catches him and narrows her eyes at him before they go back to the shack and start preparing to cook and eat. No one notices how she avoids Teach, she doesn't like how he feels like sap to her senses and he sticks and gums it up but in a bad way. She doesn't like it, doesn't like him. She has no place to say, even as over the days she gets closer with Ace. He definitely wraps an arm around her whenever he can and they offer to bring her clothes but she doesn't need them. She makes do. Thatch and Marco tease Ace because yeah, she does make do, she makes Ace make suffer while she's at it. Unknowingly, but she does still do it. Her body is a weapon just like Ace and he could definitely see himself be at her mercy.

"God, she's like Rouge and he's just like every other pirate who ever met her." Marco laughs.

"Yeah, I can see that." Teach agrees.

"Mommy issues meet feral gremlin." Thatch gestures between the two, Ace looks unimpressed as Sanji asks what they mean. Ace simply guides her away from them. Later Marco is looking at them with this sort of fondness and sadness as he explains they have to leave. They're getting ready to go back and Ace leaves her a piece of his vivre card and Sanji is staring at it in confusion. Ace says it'll guide her to him if she needs him and he can't make it for whatever reason. She nods and just before they leave she kisses Ace and he goes back full force into it. Marco takes a picture to show to Pops because he's going to fucking lose it. It is truly a 'like father, like son' situation. He needs this for future blackmail. Ace hides his face under his hat anytime anyone ever mentions Sanji to him. Pops laughs at him and it shakes the ground, Ace mumbles and wants to get back to his girl on the island. Except he can't because Teach kills Thatch over a devil fruit Thatch found and now he's on the hunt. He's not happy about it but oh well.

Sanji might not be good at talking but she's real great at reading since it doesn't require other people. She loves reading the news because it so unreal to her. She's been isolated for so long it all sounds like a fairy tale to her, faraway lands with nobility and wars and peace and marriages and love. Sure, she used to be a princess but not really. Not by her father's standards. But she sees Ace disappear from the news and she starts getting worried, before the execution is announced. Sanji fixes up the boat that's either washed up or she brought from Germa. She sets off to Marineford and following the vivre card and dead set on saving him. It's not like it actually matters. She arrives in time to see some kid in a straw hat screaming for Ace and she runs to help and her legs are on fire and Ace is yelling at Luffy before seeing Sanji and being very confused why she's there. Luffy is laughing because that's the Sanji Ace had told him about with stars in his eyes? She's pretty cool, he guesses, the amount of marines and pirates sending her whistles and looks is, well, it's upsetting. To Ace. Marco tells White Beard that Ace and Sanji are perfect for each other before the war begins in full. She's strong and powerful and feral, she growls and bares her teeth as she kicks and slices her way through those blocking her path, Luffy thinks she's really fucking cool. After Ace gets free Sanji glares at him as he laughs. It's absurd to him, that she managed to make it, to team up with his brother to save him. Marco is going to give him so much shit for this. His maybe girlfriend coming to save him from his execution, they get yelled at to run and they do making a break for it as White Beard fights Teach and Sanji is watching the pure power over her shoulder. Then Akainu joins the fight and Ace goes and rejoins the fight after Pops falls. Sanji growls something low and deep in her chest and she charges back to go collect him. Then Akainu goes after Luffy and Sanji and Ace head back to him and Ace leaps for the punch but Sanji screams at Akainu and distracts him. He looks at her with a flash of recognition and a growled 'Princess.' as Sanji growls back at him as the fist stops flying towards the brothers. Marco yells at them to run, all of them, before turning his attention to Akainu and Shanks shows up. They make their escape, running past the captain of the Red Hair Pirates to flee. Shanks looking at the three of them and Buggy yells at them to come. They make it to the Polar Tang and Law is tilting his head at the blonde before demanding to check them all over. If half the crew gets nosebleeds, Luffy and Sanji are clueless as to why. Ace nods at them in solidarity as he wraps an arm around her.

#acesan #sanace #ace x sanji #sanji x ace #black leg sanji #portgas d ace #vinsmoke sanji #fire fist ace #phoenix marco #thatch op #black beard op #marshall d. teach #feral!sanji #fem!sanji #answers

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jules-ln · 3 days ago

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Didn't know if I should make a post about this because there are people already talking about it but what the hell lmao

Personally; I'm something of an Ace myself (I'm Aegosexual AND Pansexual because I can do whatever I want) so let me tell you, what Christian Linke is doing isn't right

I'm going to stop spinning Viktor in my head like a Rubik's cube for a moment because what in the JK Rowling levels of bullshit is whatever Christian Linke is saying

I'm not so much mad because he's trying to get people to stop shipping JayVik, I'm mad because he's throwing Asexual people under the bus to justify his shit

If Christian Linke wanted to talk about Asexual representation, the right time to do it was when the show was being written so it could be incorporated into Viktor's characterization, you know, maybe not make it a central part of it, but at least acknowledge it in the show. Heck, even a joke would've been good

But that didn't happen, you know why? Because it's something Christian Linke made up during a random interview to get people to stop interpreting Viktor and Jayce as Queer, and that isn't representation, it's just bullshit

And as other people have pointed out, being Asexual doesn't make Viktor any less queer, more than that; I think it's harmful to act as if being Ace negates any queerness Viktor might have when there are still Acephobic people today that don't accept Ace people as part of the queer community

Lastly, I swear this guy meant Aromantic and just mixed up being Aro with being Ace, because he hasn't fucking talked to anyone who identifies as either Aro or Ace ever in his life

But considering that Viktor line in the game that said "Neither friendship nor love will stop what's necessary Jayce" I think Riot knows what they're doing and they're willing the bait the hell out of all the queers to get more money. I just wish someone at Riot would tell Christian Linke to shut it already

Anyway the author is dead let's find meaning on our own without listening to the voice of "God"

#ramblings #arcane #viktor #viktor arcane #jayvik #viktor league of legends #viktor lol #league of legends #asexual #asexuality

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yelenasdiary · 4 hours ago

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I dont know why i cant get this idea out of my head

But i’d love to just read fluffy soft wholesome fic

Of Artist yelena and her girlfriend decorating For Christmas in their house

Because of yelena being an artist she comes up with this crazy fun cute idea on how to decorate the house for Christmas for her and her girlfriend to do together

It wont be like your typical Christmas colours it be super colourfull like different coloured lights to go on the tree or round the house and stuff

(Please let me know if this request makes sense and if you do it please just like dm me)

~👀

A Merry Kaleidoscope Christmas

Pairing: Artist! Yelena Belova x GN! Reader

Summary: You and Yelena decorate the house for Christmas without the traditional Christmas vibes.

Fluff

Warnings: None, if I missed any, please let me know | 1.1K

AC: Thank you for sending this! It made me miss Painter! Yelena hehe, I hope you enjoy! x

Holiday Special Masterlist

Dating an artist always came with the holidays being bigger and full of so much creativity and that’s exactly how you found your girlfriend, staring blankly at the white wall of the living room, her mind racing with multiple ideas for decorations and layouts to turn the home into a Christmas wonderland.

“What are you thinking?” You asked softly, knowing she was deep in thought with the way her eyes squinted ever so slightly with a tilt of her head, her ideas were flowing.

“This year, we’re not going to do that traditional red and green colours. This year, I’m thinking big, bright and colourful!” She replied, nodding to herself as the images in her mind started to come together. “Have you ever looked through a kaleidoscope before?” She asked.

“I have” you said, slightly unsure of what ideas your girlfriend had.

“When you walk into our home, I want it to feel like you’re looking through a kaleidoscope! We’ll make homemade decorations and use every colour we can think of, every room is going to be so festive!” She beamed with excitement, her eyes brightened at the thought which brought a smile to your face.

“Sounds interesting! I’m in!”

“We should probably head to the crafts store then” Yelena turned to you, smiling softly.

The craft store was nothing more than a toy store to your girlfriend who filled the cart with bright colored paints, sequins, paper, glitter, some DIY ornaments to make the job a little easier and plenty of other craft items you were sure she would find a use for. Her enthusiasm only grew with every item she placed in the cart, leaving you to be swept up in her infectious energy.

Once home, the first thing you guys did was start to decorate the Christmas tree. Yelena wrapping an array of neon lights around the green branches before you would wrap a different range of neon colored tinsel around the tree. Then it was on to the ornaments. Together, you painted and glittered the rounds of clear glass, creating a breathtaking range of different bursts of color. You watched as Yelena would pour so much creativity in her craft, perfecting everything to a tee! You helped cut out different shapes from the range of colored paper, gluing them together over shared laughs and a paper ball fight. “I think this is the best Christmas tree we’ve had!” You complimented as you took a step back to admire the Christmas tree in all its bright and colorful beauty.

“We need one last touch” Yelena said as she pulled out a tiny, handcrafted paper banner that read ‘Merry Christmas’, she looked at you with her soft loving eyes, “would you help me jazz this up a little?”

“What do you think? An overload of glitter to make it pop?” You asked making Yelena chuckle lightly, “okay my little mind reader, how did you know?”

You playfully shrugged, “I might have seen you eyeing up the rest of the glitter”

Yelena shook her head as she placed the banner on the dining table while you grabbed the bottle of glue. “Thank you for trusting my crazy vision, I like to change it up sometimes” Yelena said in an almost whisper.

“Darling, I think all your crazy visions are perfect” you smiled, reaching for the purple glitter to sprinkle over the letter M, “I always look forward to what ideas you will come up on holidays like these and besides, I like not following the traditional theme sometimes… they can be tacky” you added. Yelena’s heart glowing with love at your words, “let’s make this a tradition then! No more boring and tacky Christmas themes! We’ll do it even bigger and better each year” she replied with a growing smile and her artistic mind racing with even more ideas for next year’s Christmas.

“I love that! But let’s just focus on this year first” you said, bringing her back to the now, “now let’s finish making this glitter mess” you added with a playful chuckle.

As the day turned to night and snow began to fall, you and Yelena found yourselves snuggled up in the warmth of the firepit, wrapped in the most colorful Christmas throw blanket that Yelena could find. Her arms wrapped lovingly around you, your head resting comfortably on her chest while she ran her fingers through your short hair. “Merry kaleidoscope Christmas love” you whispered softly, sinking into the love that filled the room.

Yelena, smiling softly, “Merry kaleidoscope Christmas indeed, I think we definitely accomplished that goal” she chuckled as she looked around the room. The soft glow from the neon fairy lights mixed with the shine of the fire’s flame lit the room perfectly, all the bright colors coming to life like the two of you were living inside of an actual kaleidoscope. Yelena, being the artist she was, couldn’t wait to show off all the wonderful arts and crafts you both had done.

Yelena knew that this was only the beginning of their artistic adventures with you, and she couldn’t wait to make more memories with you. She placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head, “I couldn’t have done of this if it weren’t for you, my muse”

You looked up at her, already getting lost in her eyes, “I love being a part of your big, colour and crafty world, if anything you’re my muse” You smiled softly before she pressed her lips against yours, kissing you deeply like she always did. “I can’t wait to spend many more Christmases with you” she whispered, admiring the way your cheeks filled with love, “and to spend every other holiday with you, doing it our way” she added.

“I can’t wait either, the neighbourhood kids are going to love easter and Halloween!” You beamed.

“I love this…everything, I mean that” Yelena replied.

You couldn’t help but admire how the twinkling fairy lights sparkled in her eyes, “I love you so much” she added softly, feeling just how much love she truly had for you. Waking up by your side each morning, coming home to you, sharing her creative mind with you whenever she had a burst of creativity, and you loved her for all of it.

“You make every moment magical, my love, I love too” you smiled once more before diving in to kiss her again. Her arms tightened around you, not wanting to let any part of this moment slip away. With one moment at a time, the two of you would create a lifetime of love and creative magic.

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

#yelenasdiary asks #👀 anon #fanfiction #yelena belova #marvel #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #fluffmas #christmas

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walkingoneliner · 3 days ago

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An analysis of Cater Diamond

(That's mostly me screaming into the void.)

Cater has always had an identity problem. We see this from the very start of the game when he makes it clear how much he hates sweets because of how much his family always had to have them.

We get an idea that his family is a bit...smothering in their ideas and likes. And this is only built upon throughout the game with things such as the "rule of cute" they seem to live by.

Now, I'm not going to say Caters card is definitely him as dorm leader...but it certainly seems it. And if so, you'll notice somthing quite striking.

How different it is from Riddles uniform.

If Riddle's uniform is ouji, Caters is 100% Visual-Kei

It's far from cute, almost general looking.

Now I'm not saying "Oh Cater will be a bad leader and run Heartslabyul to the ground grr grr" as he doesn't seem like the type to do such a thing.

What I am saying, is that in Caters dream, such a uniform is vastly different because in his dream he is likely being himself! The only bad dream we've seen so far was Floyd's! Everyone else has been living their perfect realities, Epel being strong, Kalim being real friends with Jamil, Ruggie's dad coming back for him AND nobody in his village going hungry. So we can presume that in this dream as well we get to see the REAL Cater.

Which brings me to my part two ✌ of this analysis!

Who the heck is Cater?

To figure this out, we have to figure this out from the very core of who inspired him.

Now, I've seen many different guesses, the King of Hearts, the Knave of Hearts and the White Rabbit being the top three.

Well we know he isn't the Knave, that honor is clearly Aces considering he is the one who stole the "tarts upon a summers day." (Google Queen of Hearts poem if you have no idea what I'm talking about)

And honestly? I thought he was the White Rabbit! And i think they wanted us to think this.

We know when the game first released they said the reason Caters eyes were red in some twstunes and classes was because of the fact he originally was supposed to be a rabbit beastman. However, that was changed for an unknown reason.

I believe it was changed because they realized that a better white rabbit would indeed be Trey.

I know what you're thinking.

Trey? As the White Rabbit?

Hear me out.

Trey can fit the role of the White Rabbit very well as he,

Is Riddles right hand man. Many people assumed him to be the King because of this, but really, the Rabbit does far more for the Queen than the King does.

Has an odd obsession with teeth. It was a joke from the get go that none of us even considered.

Has a large family...enough said in the rabbit comparison.

How nervous he is around Riddle! Now every character is nervous around Riddle just as every character is nervous around the Queen. But it's noticeable how much more nervous Trey is than Cater, in the same way the Rabbit fears the Queen more than the King.

Finally, he is the one to smooth things over with the other students when Riddle rampages. Similarly, the White Rabbit is the only one of the Queens court to speak to the others in wonderland.

So what does this leave Cater with?

The role of King.

Now, the King doesn't do much in Alice in Wonderland, nor in the book Alice's Adventures Underground/Alice's Adventures in Wonderland which the flim Alice in Wonderland was based off.

Does that not remind you of Cater who is the most stand offish of the Heartslabyul cast. He doesn't do much at all to impact the story. All we see him do us use the others for his gain painting the roses (somthing I truthfully can't connect to the King despite my best efforts) and we see him try to convince Riddle to go easy on the first years, specifically Ace and Deuce.

I fear if I keep speaking, I'll end up running in circles. But for now, this is where I'll end it.

The fact he was the one to try convincing Riddle to go easy on them was a huge hint he was the King of Hearts the whole time, as one of the kings few lines is "Can't we have a trial?/Oh just a little trial?" And in the book he attempts to calm the Queen by reminding her that Alice is simply a child, so they should go easy on her punishment.

Not to mention he has the gavel that the King of Hearts uses...but that's just a nice little detail.

Cater is indeed the King of Hearts which we can easily trace evidence of back to the start of the story.

Despite this, I don't have any idea what Caters dream could be, but I do know it will be fascinating to see one of the least developed characters of twst finally shine!

If y'all have questions, additions or corrections, comment and let a girl know or send me an ask!

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney #twst wonderland #disney twst #cater diamond

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holymarymotherofsmut · 7 hours ago

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Summer Heat

Summary: You’re stuck heading into the office on a Sunday on the hottest day of the year, so you forego your usual business attire and show up in something more comfortable. The only problem? Your hot boss, Higuruma Hiromi is also working overtime. Can you handle the heat, the pressure, and Higuruma’s weird behavior?

wc: 8.3k

A/N: I wrote this on a miserable Sunday over the summer where I was too hot and had to do some work (luckily from home). I’ve been fussing over it but the temps are getting lower where I live and I was dreaming about warmer days with later sunsets.

Anyway, this is the first fic I’ve posted in like fifteen years! I feel like it’s too long and could use more editing, but I feel more strongly that the Higuruma girlies don’t get fed nearly enough so I’m doing my part 🫡

The only thing worse than having to go to work on a Sunday was having to go to work on a Sunday that’s also slated to be the hottest day of the year. The thought of putting on your usual pencil skirt and blouse made you want to peel your own skin off.

Then something occurred to you.

No one ever came in on Sunday. Not the power hungry new associates, hoping to stand out. Not the assistants, always drowning in more work than they could reasonably finish, but still did nonetheless. Not even your workaholic boss, Higuruma Hiromi, came in on Sundays.

You felt a guilty thrill, riding the train to the office in just some bike shorts and a tank top. There was no chance of anyone else being there, especially not as early in the morning as you were going, but the idea of getting caught still sent an anxious tingle up your spine.

The air conditioning in the building was almost enough to make up for the mountain of paperwork you needed to review before you could have what precious little remained of the weekend to yourself. You had your own office, whose closed door had trapped the AC since you left on Friday, an icy cold reprieve from the scorching temperatures outside.

As expected, there’s no sign of anyone else in the building today. You leave your door open anyway, hoping to hear anyone who might happen to come in before they find you.

Feeling a little more confident, you put on some music, keeping the level low even with the empty halls. You sang along quietly, occasionally gripping your pen as a microphone to belt out particularly good bits. You were lost in your performance enough that you didn’t notice someone else had arrived at the office.

It’s a muffled chuckle that makes you realize you’re not alone. Your eyes open, shooting to the door where your boss, the law firm's youngest partner, Higuruma Hiromi, is watching you. He has one fist raised to cover his mouth, trying desperately to suppress a laugh.

“Fuck!” You shout in surprise, scrambling to turn off the music.

“Please, don’t let me interrupt,” he says with a good natured smile, still chuckling a little. “I didn’t think anyone else would be here today and then I heard you.”

At the same time, you were trying to explain. “Please, I’m so sorry. I know I’m dressed wildly inappropriately for the office. I really didn’t think anyone would be here.”

He visibly stiffened, finally looking at your outfit. Your breasts spilled out of your top, shining with a thin sheen of sweat just from the brief walk from the station to the office. He could just see a sliver of thigh over the desk where your shorts ended before your legs disappeared under the desk. His smile disappeared and was replaced with an almost pained expression, one you read as thinly veiled disgust.

“I’ll run home and change. I’m so sorry,” you rushed out, standing up behind your desk and fumbling for your bag.

“What?” His big eyes met your panicked ones for a second. “No, don’t be silly. No one else is here, and I’ll be in my office all day.”

You paused, bag still in hand, brain screaming for you to leave and never come back to the office again. “Are you sure?”

“You won’t even know I’m here,” he said with a tight-lipped smile.

He stood there staring at you, not moving until you set your bag down. Once he was satisfied, he gave you a quick nod and turned on his heel out of your office. You knew it was probably your imagination, but you could have sworn he was half-running back to his office.

Higuruma vexed you. That was the only way you could put it. He was generally so kind, so ready to explain something, or to help you work out an argument. He never questioned when you needed time off, he never asked you to stay and work overtime. And being that handsome certainly didn’t hurt. All of this only made you more desperate to impress this man.

The only time he was ever anything other than a perfect gentleman was when you wore revealing clothing. You didn’t have evidence of anything, and it sounded insane even to you, so you hadn’t shared your suspicions, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that was the problem.

The first time it happened, a client had accidentally spilled coffee down the front of your dress, and you didn’t have time to run home and change before you needed to be in court. You had grabbed the spare set of clothes you kept in the bottom drawer of your desk and hoped for the best.

The clothes had been shuffled from one temporary legal job to the next while you were finding your footing after law school, and you’d never had occasion to use them before, so you weren’t terribly surprised to find them a little tight.

You had started eating more, now that you weren’t a literally starving law student. Your figure had filled out, and it showed when you tried to squeeze into the years-old pencil skirt and button down blouse, but you had no other choice. As you tried to secure one more button on the top, trying to retain some level of modesty, your breasts rebelled and you heard the button ping against the mirror.

You were assisting Higuruma in court that day, and immediately things started to go poorly. You had arrived at his office, your blouse undone a button below where it should have been, trying desperately to hide in your coworker’s blazer she’d let you borrow to try to cover yourself a little more effectively.

“You weren’t wearing that earlier,” he had blurted out, taking in the much tighter outfit you had appeared in.

“Sorry. Someone covered me in coffee and this was all I had,” you said with an apologetic wince.

“It’s fine,” he said, waving his hand and looking back down at the papers on his desk intently. “I’m just finishing something up. Can I meet you down by my car? The keys are in the pocket of my jacket just there.”

He didn’t even look up at you as he gestured to the coat rack where his suit jacket hung. You felt a little like you were being dismissed. You took the keys with a frown and made your way down to his car.

He appeared not even a minute later, making you wonder if he just didn’t want to be seen walking with you. He ignored you the whole ride to the court house. Okay, not really - he chatted with you, a little more stiffly than usual, but with a friendly tone. But he didn’t look at you once during the drive. You appreciated him keeping his eyes on the road, but this felt deliberate.

His cold behavior continued for the rest of the day. All throughout the hearing, when he was driving you to the station, all day, he only looked at you if he absolutely had to. The only thing you could think was that he was embarrassed to be seen with you looking like that.

You had returned to the office the next day in long, loose pants and a shapeless sweater, shame still lingering. You replaced your emergency clothes with ones that fit properly. Higuruma went back to being his normal self.

The second time you had noticed it was at the office Holiday party. Everyone had shown up in fun cocktail attire, and you had gotten so many compliments on your dress. Burgundy velvet, long sleeves, and an open neckline that showed off your shoulders without revealing too much cleavage. A happy medium of sexy and office appropriate, or so you’d thought.

After greeting Higuruma on the way in, you didn’t see him for the rest of the night. You had been hoping to chat with him - you were still relatively new and you wanted him to know you were up for any challenging cases he had to throw at you. But every time you’d spot him, in the time it took you to extricate yourself from the conversion you were in and make your way to where you’d spotted him, he was gone.

He had left the party early, and you had left feeling rejected. You couldn’t figure out what you’d done wrong. You could only hope that you could work your way back into his good graces before he decided to fire you.

Only, there was no need to work your way back into his good graces, as it turned out. He was at your desk first thing the next morning, explaining the new defense strategy he had cooked up, sounding hopeful about the case for the first time since he’d taken it on.

If twice is a coincidence and thrice is a pattern, today solidified your belief that it was clothing related. You frown, thinking about how kind you always thought Higuruma was. If he was going to act this way over some clothing, maybe he wasn’t worth putting in the effort to impress.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the smell of coffee drifting from down the hall. You had long finished the cup you brought from home and were craving another. Hesitantly, you made your way to the kitchen, unpleasantly surprised to find Higuruma had beaten you there.

You hesitated in the doorway, debating going in, but his dark eyes found you before you could make a decision.

“Oh, hello again,” he said mildly, immediately turning back to the cupboard. It was too fast to have not been intentional, but he tried to cover it up by opening the cabinet with the mugs, the ends of his slicked-back hair swaying slightly as he surveyed the sea of identical mugs. “I assume you’re here for coffee?”

Before you can answer he pours you a cup, gesturing to it, still not looking at you.

“Thank you.” You say it looking directly at him, hoping to leave him no choice but to finally look you in the eye. And he does, for a fleeting moment. You think you see heated red cheeks as he mumbles something about having work to do and breezes past you out of the kitchenette.

You frown down at the steaming mug in front of you. He didn’t have to like what you wore but he didn’t need to be so dismissive. You decide to have a little fun with him today. If you have to be in the office, and you have to deal with his attitude, at least you can make him squirm.

Around noon you headed down to his office. You’d hiked up your shorts a little, just enough that it was debatable if you’d done it on purpose or if they had just ridden up from walking. Your top was already cut fairly low, but you tugged it down anyway, allowing another inch of cleavage to peak through.

The door to his office was slightly ajar, but you knocked on the wood anyway, polite even when your ultimate goal was to torture him a little. A distracted, “Come in,” came from inside, so you pushed the door the rest of the way open.

“I was just going to order some lunch,” you began, leaning against the door frame casually, knowing the angle would make your legs appear longer. “Did you want anything?”

Your plan was working. When he finally glanced up from the document he’d been poring over, his face went a shade paler. His eyes were locked onto your legs, traveling up the length of them before he remembered himself and snapped them up to meet your gaze.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied in a clipped tone, immediately looking back down at his work.

“Are you sure? You really shouldn’t skip lunch.” You frowned, standing up straight and crossing your arms. You might have been toying with him, but you also spent a good part of your regular work day worrying about the man also. He was here early, always the last to leave, and you knew for a fact that he frequently skipped meals in favor of working on a case.

The genuine concern in your tone made him look back up at you curiously, in turn making you realize that you’d strayed from your original goal. You uncrossed your arms, breasts jiggling with the motion, drying up whatever retort Higuruma had lined up on his tongue.

“I brought lunch today, but I appreciate the offer. Feel free to charge it to the company account though, since you’re working on a Sunday.” His tone was polite, the offer kind, but it was clearly a dismissal. Again, his eyes immediately went back to studying the words on the page in front of him.

With a shrug you turned on your heel, not catching the way his eyes followed your ass as you walked away, or the way he shook his head in annoyance at himself after you had disappeared.

Around two, he saw a blur of movement as you left the office, the tell-tale ding of the elevator confirming his suspicions. He let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know how much longer he could be in the office with you looking like that.

Higuruma thought of himself as a good, ethical man. He was someone who always wanted what was just and fair to be done. He paid his parking tickets on time, he tipped 30% or more even when it wasn’t expected, he didn’t even jaywalk.

And he definitely didn’t hit on his subordinates. No matter how beautiful, or intelligent, or witty they were. No matter how kind they were, no matter how they fussed over him, no matter how much his cock twitched when he saw even an inch of skin he wasn’t expecting.

No, Higuruma would never make the first move, no matter how sure he was that you felt the same magnetic pull between you.

He was still thinking about you when the elevator dinged again, indicating someone’s arrival. He frowned - who would be coming in at this hour on a Sunday?

You.

You hadn’t left, apparently. You had just popped out to the corner store for a snack. In one hand you had a small plastic bag, heavy with a drink and what looked like a couple of onigiri. Your other hand was holding a popsicle up to your mouth.

He prayed that you’d just keep walking past his office, but god was not on his side today, it seemed.

“Here,” you said before putting the popsicle in your mouth, holding it there while you used your now free hand to rummage around in the bag. You produced an onigiri and tossed it at him. He barely managed to catch it, fumbling it a little in his hands. The label said it was spicy tuna, his favorite.

“What’s this for?” He asked, one eyebrow raised. He tried to keep his eyes on your face, which was hard when you were sucking on the popsicle that way. How many times had he imagined you looking at him with your mouth full of…

“For playing baseball,” you responded drily. “What do you think it’s for?”

“I told you, I was fine,” he protested, holding the food out to you uselessly.

“I know you didn’t actually bring lunch,” you said with a scowl. “Eat.”

While the popsicle was out of your mouth, it melted enough to send a drop of red syrup dripping onto your right breast. You swiped at it with a finger and popped the digit into your mouth, then you licked up the side of the popsicle where the errant drip had come from.

He’s not sure he’s ever been harder in his life.

“Thank you.” He said stiffly, suddenly very interested in the wrapper of the onigiri in his hand. “I have some work I need to finish up. Is there anything else?”

You scoffed quietly, and he almost broke and looked up at you, but he instead turned to pretend to rummage in his desk for something.

“No, that’s all Mr. Higuruma,” you replied, matching the formality and stiffness of his tone. He heard your angry footsteps retreat down the hall, only allowing himself to let out a sigh once he heard your door shut just a little too loudly. He put his head in his hands, aware that he had upset you somehow. He had been too focused on not showing his attraction to you, not letting you in on his shameful secret, that he completely missed whatever he might have done to deserve such a reaction.

He’d have to talk to you later, but right now he needed to get his emotions and his dick under control.

You’d had a shockingly productive day, all things considered.

Really, you had thrown yourself into your work to try and forget about Higuruma making you feel… well, you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was you were feeling. At first you thought it was just anger at his dismissive behavior, but under the anger was deep embarrassment. It was the sting of romantic rejection, something you hadn’t considered when you started this little game.

You were attracted to him. You had always been able to admit that. But he was a good man, you thought, far too good to ever do something as scandalous as date an employee. Part of you had maybe hoped that it wasn’t anger but attraction on his part too that made him act so odd around you sometimes.

But you’d proven to yourself once and for all that it was, at the end of the day, disgust and annoyance with you as a person. You could continue to be professional - you were an adult, you had learned how to compartmentalize. But maybe you needed to keep your distance for a while.

This is how you ended up sitting in your office at 7 p.m., sun sinking slowly, casting your office in a wash of orange. You’d wrapped up everything you wanted to do plus a little extra in the hopes of avoiding Higuruma on your way out. You hadn’t heard him leave yet, but surely he had to be gone by now.

As it turned out, you had no such luck.

Two soft knocks sounded from the door. You lifted your head from where you’d had it resting on your arms as you tried to gather the strength to get up and brave the outside world. Higuruma was peering at you through the window to the side of your door, brow creased with concern.

“Come in,” you croaked out, throat sore from holding back tears. You refused to cry at the office.

“Are you alright?” He was talking before he had even taken a step into the office, walking toward you.

“I’m fine. Just a bit of a headache,” you lied, unable to hide the exhaustion in your voice.

“You should go home,” he pressed, hovering a few feet away from your desk, hands lifted like he wanted to help, but they dangled there uselessly as he realized he didn’t know how.

“I will. Did you need something?” You didn’t mean to be so short with him, but he was the last person on earth you wanted to talk to right now.

“No, I just…” He started a sentence, then paused, studying your face. He closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. When he opened them, his dark irises were fixed on yours in determination. “I feel like I upset you earlier, and I wanted to come and apologize.”

“No apology necessary, Mr. Higuruma. You haven’t done anything to upset me.” Another lie, bitter as it rolled off your tongue.

He said nothing, but continued staring at you, as if waiting for you to reveal the truth. You couldn’t stand to hold his gaze, your eyes shooting down to the documents in front of you. You started to rearrange the papers on your desk, just to have something to do with your hands, praying he didn’t notice your fingers shaking as you did.

He stepped forward, hands now moving with purpose to take the papers from you and set them down, forcing you to look up at him again.

“Please tell me what I’ve done wrong,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me. I’m willing to learn, I promise.”

“You want the truth?” You asked defiantly, suddenly ready to teach him the meaning of the phrase ‘be careful what you wish for.’

“Please,” he repeated. His melancholy gaze stayed on your face, giving him the appearance of a hound dog trying to understand why its master was angry.

“You need to get over whatever your hangup is with revealing outfits,” you said, crossing your arms, now meeting his stare with intensity he hadn’t expected. “It sucks that you treat me one way when I’m dressed modestly and another way when I dare to have a little more skin showing.”

“Is that… is that what you think it is?” He asked, suddenly a little amused. He had come in here ready to be scolded for ogling you, for making you uncomfortable with his obvious and unwanted attraction.

What a fascinating turn.

“Well… what else could it be?” You asked, scrunching your brows together in confusion.

“Let me put it to you this way,” Higuruma began softly, a half-smile playing around his lips. “Have you seen what Lisa the receptionist considers work appropriate?”

You cringed internally at the thought. Lisa, the receptionist who apparently didn’t need to sleep at all. She regaled you all with her tales of weeknight clubbing, and her taste in clothes showed it. Her skirts were short, her heels were high, and if she wasn’t showing cleavage, you could safely assume that it was because of hickies she didn’t want anyone to see (though she would absolutely show you without prompting if you had the misfortune of being in the bathroom with her at the same time).

“I mean, she looks fantastic,” you argued weakly, understanding where this was going.

“She does,” he agreed. “Have you ever seen me treat her differently because of what she was wearing?”

“Well… No,” you admitted, feeling your case fall apart in your hands.

“So why would you think that I’d treat you any differently?” He asked, still trying to get to the root of your anger.

“Because you do! Because whenever I wear something even slightly more scandalous than a pantsuit, you ignore me! It’s like I’m not even there!” Traitorous tears gathered along your lashline, threatening to spill down your cheeks. “Is it because you just don’t like me personally? Is it something I’ve done?” You voice wavered, breaking on the last word.

“Oh dear,” Higuruma said, mostly to himself, it seemed. “I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I?”

“What are you talking about?” You sniffled, resisting the urge to grab a tissue. Somehow that felt like one pathetic step too far.

He said your name with a quiet fondness you hadn’t been expecting. “It’s not anything you’ve done, and it’s not your clothes. It’s my fault. I’ve been worse at hiding my feelings than I thought, it seems.”

“What do you mean?” You insisted. “If it’s not the clothes, what is it?”

He made his way around your desk, kneeling down penitently in front of you on the floor. He looked up at you with a sad smile. “Forgive me. In trying to conceal my attraction to you, it seems I’ve been terribly rude.”

Your ears fill with the sound of your own blood rushing through your veins, so loud that you almost miss what he says next.

“I completely understand if you don’t want to work with me any longer. I can rearrange the cases and make sure you don’t have to work on mine. I’ll keep my distance.” His gaze falls to the floor, shoulders following downward as he finishes.

“Higuruma,” you say breathlessly, hoping he’ll look up at you again. When he doesn’t, you lean forward in your chair, hands cupping his cheeks and making him look. There’s fear and longing and sadness all mixed together in his expression. His under eye circles even seem to have darkened in the time it took him to make his confession.

But there’s also kindness in those eyes. A desire to do what’s best for you and everyone else, no matter the personal cost to him. His proud nose casts a shadow on his face, half of it warmed by the golden light creeping through the window. He looked like a painting, a portrait of a man burning with desire just under a placid surface.

“What if I don’t want you to keep your distance?”

It’s a simple question. He has a law degree. But still he can’t quite parse what you’re saying. His brain short circuited the minute you put your hands on his face.

“What does that mean?” He whispered.

“It means…” You pause, carefully considering your words. “It means that maybe what got me so upset earlier was the idea that you would never want me the way I want you, Hiromi.”

Just as he thought he was getting his feet back under him, you’ve knocked them out again. It’s not just the idea that you want him too - he’d never heard you say his first name before. He’d never even allowed himself to imagine it. The way your tongue wrapped around it, tasting the syllables for the first time had him ready to combust.

“Say that again. Please.” He was breathless already, face warming under your palms.

“I want you,” you repeated, your gaze moving between his eyes and his lips, like you couldn’t decide where to look.

“Say it properly,” he begged, hands reaching up to take your face in his hands.

It took you a moment to understand the request, distracted by the way his thumbs rubbed against the apples of your cheeks. You were leaning down in your chair, and he was sitting tall on his knees, your lips mere inches apart.

But you got there eventually. “I want you, Hiromi,” you said again, both of you already moving to close that final distance.

The kiss was better than you ever could have fantasized about. His lips were warm and soft, immediately parting against yours desperately. His hold on you was firm, clutching you close. Your right hand migrated to the back of his head, digging into the dark hair there and pulling him closer.

His tongue darted out, swiping your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You sighed into the kiss, allowing him to push his tongue further, moving against your tongue like it was the last time he’d ever kiss someone.

You broke apart breathlessly, cheeks aflame. Your lips shone with a mix of your saliva and his, making him kiss you again and again, unable to stop himself now that he knew you wanted this too.

Your hands tugged desperately at his shoulders, pulling him to you. You made to kneel down on the ground with him, eager for more, but he stopped you. You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him he’d tortured you this long, he could kiss you for another few minutes, but one look from him silenced you.

“Sit on the desk,” he commanded. You followed his directions, pushing aside your carefully-sorted piles haphazardly. He stood up and took his place between your parted thighs, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you to the very edge of the desk. You could feel his cock behind his trousers, hard as iron, pressing between your legs. You both gasped at the contact. The bike shorts might as well not have been there, for all they did to shield you from the blinding pleasure as he rutted against you desperately.

He leaned over you, caging you in, making you recline on your elbows as he continued to kiss you stupid. Breaths were taken in gasps, or while pressing your lips against each other’s necks, hot breath tickling sensitive hairs and sending you both into a frenzy all over again.

Hiromi broke the cycle, kissing down your neck, pulling the tanktop down to expose one perfect breast to him. He had never been a greedy man, never taking more than he needed at one time. His tongue flattened against your nipple, dragging slowly upward until the tip just caught on your hardening bud. He flicked his tongue with practiced ease, both of your nipples immediately standing at full attention, a fact he confirmed with his nimble fingers, tweaking the flesh beneath the thin top.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward in a satisfied smile. He knew he should stop. He’d gotten what he wanted. What if someone came in? What if there were cameras watching this whole thing? You had all the time in the world for this, why not wait until he could get you in private?

It wasn’t enough, he realized. He didn’t just need you here and now. He needed you to know you were his and he was yours. He needed to make up for lost time and avoidable heartache at his hand.

He had never been a greedy man, but you made him want to be. And now he needed to atone for his deadly sins.

He abandoned your breasts, both now popping out of the top of your shirt, slick with his spit, bruises blooming in the shape of his mouth against your soft skin. He began his descent again, sinking to his knees once more. He kissed along your ribs, pushing your shirt out of the way so he could mouth at the soft plush of your stomach, kissing and licking in a straight line from your naval down, down down.

He was tantalizingly close to his goal. Just as his lips were about to make contact with the outline of your pussy against the shorts, you stopped him with two hands in his hair.

“Wait,” you said breathlessly, gasping for air. Your head was spinning with desire, but not so much that you’d lost all sense.

“What is it? Do you not want this?” He panicked, standing up and taking a step back, hands up as a show of no ill intentions.

“No, I do,” you reassured him. “Very much so. But um, these shorts aren’t super breathable.”

He knew there was a reason you were bringing this up, but his mind was blank, focused solely on how he’d almost gotten to taste you after endless months of fisting his cock to mere fantasies. His face contorted with confusion, head cocking to the side as he tried to puzzle out your protest. You’d need to spell it out for him.

“I mean,” you started, cheeks flaring with color. “That I’m probably kind of sweaty down there. We can do that another time, I still want to do other-”

He cut you off mid-sentence with a relieved chuckle moving toward you once more. “That’s what you’re worried about? I thought you’d changed your mind.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he silenced you with a dizzying kiss, making you forget what you were going to say entirely.

“I’ve been thinking about you for too long,” he whispered, lips moving down your cheek and toward your ear to finish his thought. “Do you really think I’m going to let a little perspiration stop me?”

With that he slid one hand to the waistband of your shorts, pressing his palm flat against your belly. Just the very tips of his fingers dipped beneath the elastic. His eyes searched your face for any hesitation. Instead he found flushed cheeks, wide-eyed adoration, and a small nod.

He wasted no more time, pushing his hand under your shorts and panties, long middle finger immediately finding your clit and massaging it experimentally. You moaned loudly, head thrown back as he finally touched you where you’d been dreaming about. He sunk his hand down lower, fingertips just curling upward to brush at your entrance. You squirmed, hands gripping at his lapels as he leaned over you, teasing you, leaving sloppy kisses wherever his mouth could reach.

“Hiromi,” you panted, embarrassed at how tightly wound you were with so little foreplay.

Understanding the need lacing your tone, he removed his hand from your shorts, earning him a little whine of protest.

“Shhh,” he hushed you softly, lips pressing featherlight kisses to your neck as he peeled your shorts down, panties coming along for the ride. “Let me take care of you.”

He knelt before you again, taking a moment to palm his aching cock through his trousers, readjusting to give himself some kind of relief. Your knees had fallen shyly closed, afraid he might be able to see how a second heartbeat was now throbbing between your legs.

When he looked back up at you and noticed your embarrassment, he tsked quietly under his breath, bringing his palms up to the outside of your knees, caressing the skin there tenderly before moving them to your inner thighs. You provided no resistance as he pried your legs apart, enraptured by his face. He looked like he was opening a present.

His gaze fell to the sticky sheen between your thighs, pink tongue darting out involuntarily to wet his lips. He blew gently on your exposed cunt, savoring the way you twitched sensitively at the slightest stimulation. In a great show of willpower, he wrenched his eyes away from the heaven that awaited him between your thighs, focusing on your face. His breathing was shallow, hair mussed, pupils blown wide, the tips of his ears burning red.

With shaking hands, he grabbed the end of his tie, stuffing it between the fourth and fifth buttons on his shirt. You’d seen him do it countless times at lunch but you’d never thought of it in such a filthy context.

“I have never meant this more sincerely,” he began earnestly. You half expected some new confession, head dizzy with the possibilities. But his wet lips broke into a wicked grin as he finished his thought: “Itadakimasu.”

Humbly I receive.

You hadn’t finished processing the absolute filth that just came out of his mouth when his tongue met your clit. Like when he started on your nipples, his tongue was flat as it dragged slowly up your slit. You swear you’re so sensitive you can feel every ridge of every taste bud as he continues his slow lick.

And then the tip of his tongue is flicking upward, pushing your clit around in its hood. There’s no one else in the office, but you’re worried the moan you let out will reverberate off the walls for days, letting everyone know what you were doing in here with your boss.

He continues his assault with vigor. His tongue is everywhere, never staying in one place long enough to get used to it. He prods at your entrance, slipping just the tip of his tongue into your squeezing hole. Then he’s sucking your clit into his mouth, shaking his head back and forth, up and down as you come apart on the desk above him.

It’s all you can do to clutch onto his hair. He goes down to lick up the wetness creeping down, threatening to drip onto the desk, in the process catching the hooked tip of his nose on your sensitive button. One hand gripped the edge of the desk, the other holding him in place as you try not to cum immediately.

Hiromi could feel you holding back. “Don’t be stubborn,” he said, pulling away for a moment to kiss your thighs, smearing wetness all over them.

“You hurt my feelings,” you panted back. “Made me feel like I did something wrong. You’re going to have to work harder than that.”

In truth, you weren’t sure you could handle more before you imploded from pleasure. But the smirk he gave you from between your legs, the determination that hardened his eyes, they made you want to try to hold out just a little longer.

“Your wish is my command,” he said with a shrug.

His hands, which had been wrapped tenderly around your thighs as he devoured you, suddenly changed positions. He pushed one thigh open abruptly, spreading you for him even further. His other hand had come up to his mouth. He slowly put his middle and ring fingers in his mouth, withdrawing them and holding them up so you could admire the orange light reflecting off of his spit-slick fingers.

He kept his eyes fixed on yours as he lowered his fingers to your waiting pussy, burying them to the knuckle in your warmth. Your teeth sank into your lower lip, trying hard not to be the first to break eye contact. He moved his fingers in and out slowly a few times.

Suddenly he curved his fingers upward, pressing on a spongy spot that had you seeing stars. Your head shot back, eyes closed, arching into his touch. He chuckled before lowering his head again, sucking your clit into his mouth, fingers still assaulting you from the inside.

It was all too much. You tried to say his name, but all that came out was a broken cry as heat pooled in your belly. You felt like a star collapsing in on itself under its own weight, the overwhelming pleasure condensing into a single spot. And then, like all dying stars, you were reborn. The warmth spread back out to your limbs as you trembled against him, your walls clenching tightly around his fingers as he worked you through each wave of your orgasm.

When you were done, he removed his fingers, standing up to kiss you once again. His clean hand found the back of your head, urging you to taste yourself on his lips.

“I’ve never cum that hard in my life,” you panted raggedly, resting your forehead against his.

He nuzzled his nose gently against the side of yours. “Always happy to be of service.”

Having caught your breath, your hand reached down between his legs, eyebrows shooting up at the generous bulge. Experimentally, you rubbed his erection. He bucked his hips into your touch, groaning and clutching at your hips.

“It’s your turn,” you whisper seductively, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“I need to be inside you,” he said bluntly, desperation barely contained. “Please.”

“Then why are you still wearing those?”

He needed no further instruction, kicking his shoes off, along with his black pants and the underwear beneath.

“Oh my god,” you gasped involuntarily.

“What?” Hiromi asked with a frown, looking down at his exposed member. He examined it, wondering what was wrong.

“It’s… Hiromi, you’re beautiful,” you responded, eyes sparkling. Your tone was sincere, full of wonder. You felt lucky that you got to see him like that,l.

“Stop that,” he said. The sunset had now shifted to soft pink hues, making it impossible to tell if he was blushing.

“I mean it,” you insisted. You reached a hand out, taking hold of him and gently pulling him closer to you. He followed without complaint. There was a faint, wet squelch as his fat head slid against the wetness that had only grown between your legs, and you moaned in unison.

“Don’t tease,” he gasped.

You were rocking your hips shallowly, passing the sensitive underside of his tip over your clit over and over again. He bit down on the inside of his cheek hard, hoping the pain would distract him and keep him from spilling all over your mound. He couldn’t stand the embarrassment of cumming before he’d even gotten inside you.

“Need you, Hiromi. Please.” You pleaded with him as if it wasn’t your fingertips keeping him pressed against you just so, like you weren’t the one torturing both of you.

“C-condom?” He asked. Even as his hand batted yours away, lining himself up against you, his final neuron reminded him of the very real possibility of pregnancy and disease.

“I need to feel you,” you gasped. “Please. I have an IUD. I haven’t been with anyone since my last screening and it was clear. Hiromi I need you to fuck me right now, please, just-”

One second you were begging for him, the next you were so full you thought you might burst. He had seated himself inside of you in one fluid motion, his mouth and fingers having prepared the way. Even so, there was a foreign stretch, stinging and delicious, that you’d missed after all these months alone.

“Hiromi,” you whined, grabbing onto his arms. They were planted on the desk, supporting his weight as he tried to process the feeling of finally being inside of you. You looked down at where you met, the thick thatch of hair on his pelvis just pressing against your clit. You knew that if you rocked your hips just a little, you could grind on it and-

“Stop.” The word came out through gritted teeth. “Unless you want this to be over very quickly, just… give me a second.”

You warmed with pride at the reminder of what it was like to feel wanted. Maybe the light of the sinking sun had you seeing la vie en rose, but every part of Hiromi’s body showed how much he ached for you.

You saw it in the clenching muscle of his jaw, working overtime as he struggled to contain himself. You saw it in the indents in your thighs where his fingers dug in, desperate to keep a hold on you and his sanity. You saw it in his soft belly, tensing with the effort of keeping his hips still inside of you. To be so wholly desired by him after convincing yourself he hated you, it was almost better than any pleasure he could offer you.

And then he started moving his hips.

He started slowly at first, pulling out almost all the way and pushing back in. Like waves on the sea, his movements were steady and consistent. Each stroke came with a crash of hips, pleasure spreading over your bodies like fine ocean mist.

You looked up at him, kiss-bitten lips hanging wide in a soundless moan, too overwhelmed to even make a sound. Your eyes were big and wet, silently pleading with him to keep going. You spread your legs wider, bucking your hips up weakly against his, taking him even deeper.

Something in him snapped and he pushed all the way in, deeper than you even thought possible. From this position, he draped your legs over his arms, hands slipping around your back to hold you by your waist. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, holding yourself up for him. He gave your waist one last gentle squeeze before he started fucking you in earnest.

He was pistoning his hips against yours, in and out, in and out. He was only pulling back a few inches, but you were angled in such a way that every time he slammed back into you, he brushed against that sweet spot deep inside of you. He pushed a series of staccato little moans out of you, or maybe it was one long moan broken up as he drove the air from your lungs with every snap of his hips.

“Baby, I’m so close,” you whined breathlessly, one hand coming between the two of you to play with your clit, hoping to get you the rest of the way there before he finished.

“I told you to let me take care of you,” he said in faux annoyance, batting your hand away. He licked his thumb, as though you were lacking in lubrication, and lowered it, drawing tight, fast circles against your clit.

Instantly you tightened around him, sucking him in even deeper as you moaned and writhed.

“Oh god. I’m gonna cum. Please come with me, Hiromi, please. Please.” You continued to babble as you finished, just barely keeping your eyes open long enough to watch Hiromi’s face as he followed you off the cliff. He pumped deep into you several more times, spilling his seed against your cervix, twitching over and over again until he was spent.

When he could think again, he pulled you close for a kiss, barely containing a hiss at the overstimulation at the movement. You kissed him back with teeth and tongue and passion.

“Still think I hate you?” He asked as he broke away, smiling in happiness and exhaustion.

“Jury’s still out on that one,” you replied with a sniff. “I think you still have to prove to me beyond a reasonable doubt that you like me.”

“I need a short recess, but I’m happy to give you another oral argument. Plead my case a little more.” He pulled out of you, ready to kneel again and clean up the mess he made. Anything to prove to you that he was serious.

“I think the defense also needs to rest,” you laughed, wiping sweat from your brow. “Can I ask one favor, though?”

“Absolutely anything,” he replied, planting several kisses on your forehead as you giggled.

“Can you give me a ride home? I know it’s out of your way, but I don’t really want to take public transportation like this.” You gestured down to your thighs, still sticky with your combined efforts, and your shorts, which would surely show such a wet stain. You smiled up at him bashfully, working your lip nervously between your teeth.

“I was offering to lick my cum out of you and you’re worried I’m going to say no to giving you a ride home because it’s a little out of my way?” He asked with a chuckle.

“On second thought, I’ll take my chances,” you responded, blushing furiously.

“Hey, come on. Surely you don’t still have doubts after what we just did?” He leaned in close again, pressing his lips to your forehead as you burned with embarrassment.

“Everything just changed so fast,” you murmured, closing your eyes and basking in his touch. “I don’t know what we are. I don’t want you to think you owe me anything.”

“I think at the very least I owe you a ride home and a warm meal,” he began, pulling away and producing a handkerchief from the inner pocked of his suit jacket. He wiped away the worst of the mess covering your inner thighs. He let himself be selfish, savoring the sight of his cum leaking out of you for a brief moment before continuing to dress you, pulling up your underwear and shorts with a tenderness that made your stomach flip.

He stepped aside to allow you to stand, folding the handkerchief and using the clean side to (begrudgingly) wipe away the remnants of your arousal that still stuck to his fingers and face. With clean hands, he pulled up his own pants, securing the buckle before turning to ask if you were ready to go.

The question died in his throat as he appraised you. Your hair was tousled, shirt still askew, and he could see the wet spot forming between your legs where he was dripping out of you. His cock sprang back to life at a speed he hadn’t known since he was much younger.

“I was serious, you know,” he said throatily, the sultry tone causing you to freeze in place. You looked at his face, then followed his eyes between your legs where the fabric darkened with moisture. “Let me clean you up before we go.”

“Hiromi,” you chastised him unconvincingly, your sore, sensitive cunt already pulsing again between your legs, begging you to give in to this wild man’s demands.

“Fine, fine,” he said sulkily, turning away from you to regain his composure. He knew his erection wouldn’t subside, not as long as you were within ten feet of him, but he could at least get himself a little more under control. He smoothed his hair back, keeping the tremor out of his voice through sheer willpower when he spoke again. “I would like to alter the list of things I owe you, though.”

“You don’t owe me anything, you silly man. I told you that,” you laughed, swatting at his arm as you passed him on the way to the door. “But go on.”

He grabbed your arm, turning you back toward him. In the same motion, he moved forward, pushing you back against the closed door. His chest was flush against yours, his still-hard cock pressing dangerously against your belly.

“I owe you a ride home.” He kissed your forehead. “I owe you a warm meal.” He kissed your cheek, then moved his lips next to your ear. “And I owe you at least one more orgasm.” He sunk his teeth into your earlobe, relishing then whine you couldn’t keep contained.

“Absolutely filthy,” you groaned, pressing the back of your head against the door. “No use arguing with a lawyer like you, I suppose?”

“None at all, I’m afraid,” he said with a genuine smile, pressing his lips to yours one final time before opening the door, taking your hand, and pulling you toward the elevator like a giddy schoolboy.

#higuruma hiromi #higuruma #jjk higuruma #jujutsu kaisen higuruma #jjk x reader #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi smut #higuruma x reader #higuruma smut #jjk smut #hiromi higuruma #hiromi higuruma x reader #jjk hiromi higuruma #jjk higuruma hiromi #higuruma jjk #idk i hope you like it!!!#i have several more fics i’m sitting on #that i will perhaps post if there’s interest…

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