#owns a PR firm

[asteria-argo]

if y'all catch me totally changing Keeley's entire plot in TATBP with no elaboration mind your own business.

[mycenaae]

ultimately don't really know how i feel about the episode as a whole — it feels a lot like part 1 of a 2-parter so i'm reserving ultimate judgement until after next week's episode — but i don't necessarily think jack being sort of shitty is like ... out of character for her? her family's richer than god and she's probably used to either not facing the consequences of a shitty society and/or to being able to put out a statement that she doesn't mean and just move on with her life. of course she's more concerned about the optics of it all than the actual human impact, when her family is like "everyone who hung out with epstein" rich and the richest man in the world is a close enough family friend that she considers him an uncle. being queer does not exempt her from being probably a billionaire or from all the soul rot that comes with that level of wealth and power.

[bbokicidal]

[REUPLOAD] skz + head [giving + receiving]

warnings : oral, obviously.

notes : if they prefer receiving or giving head, how they do it, etc!! a reupload from my old blog !!

chris : prefers giving

eats that pussy like it's his last fucking meal. gently, of course. but he's 100% going to be fucking his tongue into you until you're almost crying. it'll be the most blissful thing you've ever felt - and part of you prefers his mouth to his cock just because of how much passion he puts into it. of course, sex in general is great with him. he's just the type to put his full attention into making you feel good when he's got your hips pinned against the bed and his head is stuffed between your legs.

loves it when you suck his cock. his favorite place to have you do it is the studio, because he knows if he asks nicely you'll come running to him after a long day of working and you'll sit right under the desk while he works. it eases him, relaxes him some. he still may not sleep a whole lot those nights but he's feeling a lot better by the next day - especially if you wake him up with some banger head, too. (also the type to hold the back of your head and force your nose to his pelvis a few times just to feel your throat oops.)

minho : prefers receiving

he definitely likes eating you out. he's the type to like, sit up on his knees and drag your lower half up with him though, your shoulders pushed into the bed and neck cramping. the pain mixed with the pleasure from his tongue is perfect, either way. he loves seeing you unable to squirm, dark eyes staring down at you, lidded and warm with lust as you make a mess of his mouth.

he loooooves when you give him head though. give him head? let him use your head. he'll let you start off at your own pace while he sits on the couch and scrolls on his phone, one hand keeping your hair out of your face so you're comfortable. but it always, always ends with him fucking into your mouth and throat and holding your head with both hands to keep you still. he thrives off the wet noises that come from you.

changbin : prefers receiving

will absolutely wake you up by eating you out - with your explicit consent prior, of course. he adores waking up early mornings and seeing you all curled up and squirming because of a dream about him. he loves rolling you onto your back and letting you wake up to see him under the blankets, hands splayed over the soft warmth of your sides before one trails down to let his thumb brush over your clit. he's so gentle when he eats you out - he's there to worship, baby.

will melt when you give him head. will literally pool in his studio chair when you sit on the coffee table and lean in to take him in your mouth. his head'll drop back, he'll let his hands grip at the arms of the chair. he'll refuse to touch you because he knows you'll ruin him the way you want on your own. it's gold to see, truly. his ears getting all pink. ugh. he's a sucker for your mouth.

i'm also a firm believer that binnie shoots fucking ropes, so take that as you will. (will fill your throat with cum, absolutely.)

hyunjin : prefers giving

he thinks you're like the most beautiful piece of art on earth. you're so gorgeous when you're squirming and writhing on the dressing room couch, hips perched up on the arm of the sofa while he kneels nearby and buries his face in your pussy. he's weak for you, absolutely - so desperately weak. he loves hearing your sounds for him. he loves the idea of the others hearing you from the locked dressing room - he loves the idea of someone walking in and joining. yeah, he just wants them to see how he gets you whining.

not a huge fan of receiving head just because he'd much, much rather be eating you out instead. he thinks you're too pretty to be on your knees, but when you are you can bet he will absolutely be looking down at you with his hair falling over his eyes and sticking to his face. motherfucker is gonna be dripping sweat just from the way you make him feel.

jisung : prefers giving

lazy eater. not bad, by any means - just lazy. he likes to lay between your legs while the two of you are lounging watching a movie (probably HMC.) and just casually eat you out. you won't be squirming or whining or gasping for breath - you'll just be smiling, moaning here and there and combing your hand through his hair while his tongue slips over your folds just the way you like. he'll let his thumbs massage over your clit as his hands rest on your hips, breathing heavy and big eyes focused on the television. he just likes doing it so casually, but there's always a massive wet spot on the sofa after because he'll sit there for hours just doing it and letting spit drop.

another one who doesn't really like making you get on your knees for him - but the occasional blowjob won't upset him. he likes when you have him squirming in bed, holding his thighs open so he doesn't close them on your shoulders or choke you out - not that you'd complain about dying there. he's the type to get reaaaal loud and whimpery.

felix : prefers giving

messy, messy boy. i have a feeling he's the type to spit on your pussy and then lick it up or push it into you with his tongue, and he's the type to get you to squirt. he will not stop until you're making an absolute mess of your bedsheets, but he will of course take care of it all after and make sure you're comfortable immediately. he's the type to leave bruises on your hips from his rings digging in.

likes head every so often - another one, i know i know, who doesn't prefer it but doesn't mind. he's pretty casual about it, rocking his hips into your mouth and breathing hard when you take him into your throat. he likes to cum on your face, rather than in your mouth - because again, he likes the mess, and likes the image of you with his cum just painting your pink cheeks and puffy lips.

seungmin : prefers receiving

another one who just eats that pussy like it's his last meal. he prefers you giving him head instead but he's going to make this shit good, holding you down and sucking on your clit until you're actually crying. he's a bit mean in bed, slapping your ass and maybe even spanking your pussy when you get too wiggly on the bed.

is all too casual, sort of like minho. he'll sit there and just comb your hair back, let you lay on the sofa with your feet kicking while you keep him in your mouth. you're comfortable, he's comfortable - he's also taking a few short videos to send to the groupchat so the others know why he's a little late to practice. you're his main priority and he prefers being with you anyways. but yes, he's definitely got at least 30 different videos in an album of you sucking his cock in multiple locations.

jeongin : prefers giving

mo. ther. fucker. the ONLY one out of the boys to use his fingers when he eats you out - deserves to be in the hall of fame. have you seen his hands?? (guilty, oops.) he will absolutely be pushing two fingers into your cunt while he eats you out, sucking and nibbling and licking long stripes over your slit and clit until you're whining loud. he'll only eat you out in his bedroom - because he loves rubbing it in his hyung's faces that he can make you feel this way.

will only let you give him head IF you're in the car. roadhead. he figured out he reaaaaally liked it after you offered it up once when he got his license. he absolutely said yes, and at first was a bit shaky but now he's a pro at keeping a straight face. one hand'll be holding your hair back while the other grips at the wheel tight, white-knuckled and chewing on the inside of his lip as he drives. if you ask really nicely, he'll even let you do it while seungmin is in the backseat.

Taglist :  @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie @vanillacupcakefrosting

[sparklingchim]

game on | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.2k

genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: pg

warnings: koo gets scolded for sleeping around 🥺, playboy jk <3, hints of a threesome 🫢, oc fights w a laundry machine

summary: jungkook is in desperate need to polish up his playboy image, and naturally, he turns to you for help.

a/n: hii my pretty besties!!!! it's my bday😋 so i wanted to share this silly piece i've been having so much fun writing!!! love uuu n treat urself to smth nice for me today <3 mwah😙

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Jeon Jungkook is a charming man – and he is well aware of the fact. He plays that card effortlessly.

Most of the time, it works in his favour.

But sometimes, it backfires spectacularly and gets him into trouble.

Which is why he stands in front of his fuming manage, who is radiating enough anger to fill the entire office.

The sight isn’t foreign to Jungkook. He wouldn’t say he is used to it, but he has found himself often enough in this situation to recognise the signs of deep trouble.

Not only is Jungkook’s charm complicating things, but the fact that he is famous too.

Sometimes, he uses that as an advantage. Not in an obvious way — never by flaunting his own achievements or demanding special treatment.

That’s not his style.

His name alone carries weight, and he knows how to let it work for him, quietly bending the world to his will... until the world pushes back.

And right now, it’s pushing back hard.

One thing Jeon Jungkook does enjoy about being a pro footballer, though, is the way women obsess over him.

He knows they love him – sees it in the comments they leave on his ig posts, sees it in the DMs flooding his inbox daily, and experiences it firsthand at public events, where hordes of fans scream his name. Jungkook thrives on that attention.

However, something he doesn’t love, and what he was never prepared for, is the media. The way they scrutinise his every move, how his face ends up on every headline anytime he does something remotely noteworthy.

And now, thanks to his latest shenanigan getting caught by the press, here he is. Standing in front of his manager, Taesung, and his PR agent, Jiwoo, eyes downcast, bracing himself for the scolding that’s already begun.

“You’ve gone too far this time, Jungkook.”

His manager speaks in a flat, monotonous voice, void of even the slightest hint of disappointment, as if he’d long since given up expecting anything different.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean up the mess you leave behind?”

A sense of guilt creeping up on Jungkook, even though he knows if he were just a regular guy, none of this would matter at all. And he finds it a bit unfair.

But to survive in this business, you can’t complain about unfairness.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Taesung barks.

Jungkook remains silent. He forces himself to.

“If there was more involved than just alcohol-”

“No! Nothing like that,” he denies, his response firm and immediate. “It was just alcohol – and, well, just good vibes because we won the last match, and with the World Cup being next, everyone was just really excited.”

If he had known what kind of trouble a simple, innocent celebration of his team’s win at a club would bring, he would’ve gone straight home yesterday. He would’ve skipped the rounds of drinks, the flashing lights, the loud music, and definitely the attention. But hindsight was useless now.

“Good,” his manager says. “I’m glad you were happy.” Mock sympathy drips from his voice. “Perhaps the last time you are going to be happy this year.”

Jungkook nods, accepting the gravity of the situation. No more clubs, no more parties, no more girls.

At least, not for a while. His reputation had taken a few hits recently, and this latest mess wasn’t helping. He could almost hear the whispers: reckless, irresponsible, unprofessional. The kind of things that could ruin him if he didn’t get a handle on it.

He clenched his jaw. No more distractions. From now on, it was all about the game. He needed to remind everyone why he was Jeon Jungkook — the best on the field, not just the headlines.

“You’re no longer in for the World Cup. You’re out.”

His head snaps up at that. Did he hear that right?

“What?! What do you mean?”

“Myungbo doesn’t want you on the team anymore.” Taesung’s words sound heavy and final.

Jungkook’s heart pounds in his ears.

His world tilts. The room seems to spin, the edges of his vision darkening. This wasn’t just a setback — it was a disaster. The World Cup was everything to him, and now it felt like it was slipping through his fingers. The crushing weight of the news settles on his chest, making it hard to breathe. One silly night is all that happened.

He can’t believe that a single photo of him leaving the club with two girls clinging to each arm has cost him his spot on the national football team. He went home with two girls – so what?

But he doesn’t voice his frustration. He knows better than to add fuel to the fire. Speaking his mind now would only escalate the situation and make things worse. Jungkook knows from experience.

He swallows hard, forcing himself to stay calm. His pulse is still racing, but he takes a deep breath, focusing on controlling his emotions. He has to keep a level head if he’s going to find a way to fix this.

“There has to be a way to fix this.” His eyes move to Jiwoo, his PR agent. “Right?”

His manager fixes him with a stern glare. “Jungkook, remember the promise you gave everyone a few months ago?” Taesung reminds him.

Jungkook cringes. When he made a promise to avoid actions that might damage his reputation, he didn’t think it’d be that serious. He cut back on going out, made the effort to play the role of the “good boy” but really – come on. He can’t maintain that facade for an eternity. Especially after a triumphant victory like yesterday’s.

Taking away his spot on the national football team? He didn’t think that was possible.

“How many more times do we have to fix your problems, because you don’t care enough? How many times do we have to repeat this scenario?”

“I promise I’ll better myself,” he pleads desperately, looking back and forth between his manager and his PR agent. Someone has to believe him, help him.

“Do you genuinely believe this country wants to be represented by a 20-year-old boy, who can’t keep his personal life under control?” Taesung asks, eyebrows deeply pinched together. “This isn’t just about you, Jungkook. It’s about the team, the fans, and the nation. They need a role model, not a scandal waiting to happen.”

“I know. I know.” Jungkook scrambles for something convincing to say, desperate to sway their decision. This can’t be it. He won’t let his career take a hit because of something like this. “But – but this isn’t too bad. This is fixable. I can fix this.” His voice quivers with a desperation he barely recognises as his own. “Jiwoo.” Jungkook turns to her with pleading eyes. “You always know what to do. Please, help me”

“I did propose an idea but-”

“We’re not doing that,” Taesung cuts in. “It’s off the table.”

“What is it?” Jungkook’s eyes bounce back and forth between them. “I’ll do anything. This is – this is everything to me. You have to give me a chance.”

Taesung scoffs. “A chance? As far as I know, you have been given countless chances.”

Sweat coats the back of Jungkook’s neck.

Taesung understands just how much Jungkook has fought to secure his place on the national team. He’s well aware that it’s one of Jungkook’s greatest dreams, a pinnacle of his career that he’s poured countless hours of hard work and sacrifice into. That’s why, each morning, when he wakes up to the latest news of Jungkook’s escapades, he feels a deep sense of disappointment, texting Jungkook with a dejected shake of his head to visit his office first thing in the morning.

When it’s all he wants, like Jungkook claims, why doesn’t he act like it?

“If the head coach won’t give me a chance now, he’ll never do. This is my last opportunity to change his mind, make him rethink. I need to at least try.”

Jiwoo looks at the manager, waiting for his approval. He nods.

“Very simply put: you need a girlfriend,” she says.

For a second, Jungkook is at loss for words.

“A girlfriend? How’s that going to help?” Jungkook tilts his head in confusion. This is not how he thought Jiwoo was going to save him.

“You need a girlfriend to help polish up your image as a player. It’ll make you appear more like a gentleman, softer and nicer. We need to completely shift public perception and counter the negative image they’ve formed about you. It’s all about changing the narrative,” she explains.

“And that is not something we can easily achieve,” Taesung interjects. “Rebranding your entire persona is not feasible at this stage. You’ve been projecting what kind of boy you are to the media for the past two years. It’s going to be incredibly difficult to make a sudden shift look genuine.”

“No! We — I can make it seem real. This is my only chance,” Jungkook insists, his voice gaining a hint of determination. For a moment, breathing feels a bit easier again. “The World Cup is just a month away. That’s enough time to shift public opinion and prove I’m worthy of representing the country on the team.” There’s a hopeful lilt in his voice as he speaks, clinging to the belief that he might not have to bid farewell to his biggest dream after all.

But his manager doesn’t look as hopeful as Jungkook feels.

“How are we going to find a girl who will agree to this? Someone who isn’t an obsessive fan, understands this is purely professional, and can keep quiet? You won’t be able to pull this off.”

“I was actually thinking-” Jiwoo starts, but she’s cut off.

Jungkook hesitates, glancing between them before speaking. “Actually... I think I already have someone in mind.” His voice is more measured now. “That’s not the issue.” Jungkook doesn’t need to think twice.

Taesung sighs while Jiwoo looks at Jungkook apologetically.

“You can’t rebrand your entire persona from a playboy to a lover boy within a month, Jungkook. This is over.” His manager shakes his head, a sense of finality glimmering in his eyes.

One thing that Jungkook forgot to mention is that he is an extremely competitive man, too.

~

“This is ridiculous.”

You kick the laundry machine in frustration, but all you end up doing is yelping and clutching your aching foot.

“That’s the third time this month,” you mutter under your breath. “What did I even spend all that money on if it’s just going to break down whenever it feels like it?”

You shoot a death glare at the machine, teetering on the edge of losing your mind.

“Guess I’ll have to use the public laundromat again,” you sigh, grabbing the overflowing laundry basket filled with your and your roommate's clothes, and heading out of the bathroom with a huff.

On your way to the front door, the doorbell rings.

Please, you think. You were hoping for some quiet, uninterrupted time to deep-clean your dorm on this peaceful Sunday with no one around.

But when you peek through the peephole and see Jungkook standing there, your frustration melts away. You swing the door open, the laundry basket tumbling to the floor beside you in your haste.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim. “You’re timing is perfect! Can you please fix my laundry machine again? It’s been acting up, and I’m getting frustrated.” You groan annoyed.

Jungkook doesn’t share the same excitement upon seeing you.

You grow smaller and take an indecisive step back.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, noticing the tension in his features. “Did you lose the match yesterday? I couldn’t keep up because I had too much cramming to do last night.”

While studying medicine had always been your dream, the reality is less exciting. Right now, it means sleepless nights and relentless pressure. You know that pursuing this path will offer you many privileges later in life, but you have to suffer first.

“I need your help.”

His dark eyes, usually bright and full of energy, seem clouded with worry, and his hair falls messily over his forehead, like he’s run his hands through it a hundred times in frustration.

“Are you okay?” You study him closely, scanning his face for any signs of injury. Physically, he seems fine — still tall, muscular, and as fit as ever. But something is clearly off.

“You need to do something for me.”

“I can help,” you reply, your voice soft with concern. ‘But what is it…?”

“Can you be my girlfriend?”

You blink, repeatedly.

“Huh?”

You start giggling when he doesn’t add more. You expect him to clarify or laugh along, but Jungkook stays serious, stepping closer and gently taking your hands in his. You look down at them, then back up at his face, utterly bewildered.

“You’re silly, Jungkook. If someone on the team made you do this, tell them you did the punishment and quit acting so weird.”

It’s too early in the morning for Jungkook’s nonsense.

“No, ___, you don’t understand.” He squeezes your hands when he feels you trying to pull them back. “I actually need you to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Fake date me.”

[clowningachievement]

Have you ever killed someone for making a particularly bad amv of you

Hah, oh absolutely!

Some silly teen put me and the aging Falcone in a "Stacy's Dad" AMV and I decided there were some lines that were too far, even for me!

[donatellawritings]

୨୧ based on this submission from @sageworld

boxer!rafe & shy!reader bc they are cuties xx

a big fat reason why you were such a shy and mousey little thing was due to your thick latin accent and broken english. sure, you could hold your own with basic conversations, but your doe eyes never missed the way people squinted into over-exerted focus as you spoke. you were well aware of how you mispronounced words and the way you subconsciously elongated the wrong consonants, so you completely despised having to speak, unless you were spoken to. after spending about an hour with you, rafe was fully aware of your cute quirk and welcomed it with open arms.

quite frankly, the way your tongue carefully sang each word with practiced effort was heart wrenchingly adorable to him … and he silently wished that you’d never stop talking.

“okay, mama — y’gotta use y’words, just like i’ve been teachin’ you, yeah?” rafe calls out from the bathroom, steam leaking through the opened door, his voice raised, thanks to the toothbrush that rested between his teeth.

with a frustrated huff, you quickly blinked back the tears of defeat that welled in your bambi eyes, tilting your head back in a desperate attempt to stop your whiny tears from ruining your makeup that’s you’d spent a whopping hour and a half doing … it was so pretty, soft, and sparkly — messing it up would just send you over the edge.

you remained with your head tilted back for about a minute before the pinned up curls that covered your head became too heavy for your neck, “don’t want to, papi — i feel stupid,” you pouted your lips, swollen from the glittery plumping gloss that you’d applied just a few minutes prior.

rafe had taken it upon himself to be proactive when it came to breaking you away from your shy shell, and he figured that if you tackled your largest insecurity first — the rest would be a piece of cake. so, rafe decided that he simply wouldn’t talk to you, if you only gave him one worded answers or hummed responses.

“hey — fix y’face, no reason to be havin’ an attitude,” rafe enters his bedroom, towel hung low on his semi-wet hips as he snaps a corrective finger in your direction, his glassy eyes glaring into yours as you nod obediently.

adjusting the hem of your powder pink skims bandeau top, or lack thereof, to sit just a bit higher on your perky and swollen tits, you comply, “the pr-press thingy — yo no quiero ir,” you speak, your voice shaky as you approach rafe, bare feet padding against the polished hardwood flooring, “s’too many people,” you add in a low mumble.

acknowledging your concerns with a simple nod, rafe rolls his shoulders, the towel that once hung around his hips now replaced with grey briefs as he glances over at you, before letting out a hum of feigned thought, “that’s what had y’all fussy? jesus, baby,” he sighs, allowing his tight shoulders to soften as he nudges the tip of your chin with the knuckle of his index finger.

letting out an embarrassed whine, you closed the gap between you and rafe, swinging your arms around his tense neck as you jump from the tips of your painted toes, snaking your legs around his waist, earning a knowing sigh from your man, “y’know i can’t have you sitting here alone — need to keep an eye on you, mama,” he coos, keeping a free arm curled underneath the fat of your plush ass and thighs as he continues to make his way towards your shared closet, hiking you up to sit up a bit higher on his buff and toned frame.

“no soy una niña — y’not being nice,” you speak against the side of rafe’s neck, earning a quick slap to your bare ass, “raafe, that was hard,” you moan, lightly swatting your hand against his firm pecs.

rolling his eyes, rafe grabbed ahold of a the crisp navy blue suit jacket that hung neatly, his voice monotone as he searches for his matching slacks, “not a little girl, huh? y’sure as hell are actin’ like one, princess,” he comments blankly, his squinted eyes widening as he nudges your waist with the metal part of the hanger that held his jacket, “hold this f’me.”

with a bratty roll of your eyes, your small hand grips the hanger, your chin resting atop of rafe’s flexed clavicle as your makeup remains in tact.

fisting his slacks and louis vuitton belt in his grip, rafe walks out of the closet, leaving your legs to cling tightly around his waist as he walks towards his king sized bed, spinning lowering his frame to sit down on the edge of the bed, with you straddling him as his loving gaze met your sparkling eyes.

“okay baby, who’s the man that keeps a smile on y’face, huh?”

biting back a blush, you quickly peck your tingling lips against rafe’s, “rafe cameron,” you speak confidently, oblivious to the way the man before you’s dick began to tent within the thin fabric of his briefs. fuck, he loved the way your latin tongue rolled over each letter with innocent seduction.

“yeah?” rafe raises his eyebrows, “and who is rafe cameron,” he pushes, tonguing the inside of his cheek, eyeing the way you fiddled with your fingers as the cogs in your pretty little head began to turn.

batting your wispy lashes, you take a small breath — you practiced this, “rafe cameron is th-the future uni-unified champion and the el-dest son of w-ward cameron,” you exhale, immediately breaking eye contact with rafe as you force yourself to focus on your freshly manicured nails.

“there you go! see, y’talk just fine, hm?” rafe praises, sealing it with a playful nudge to your jaw, just as his free hand snaps the band of your thong to slap the skin of your hip.

with a sharp gasp you sucked your teeth, craning you neck to see the light red marking left by the skin-tight fabric, “ay, rafe dejarme quieta!” you whined, pathetically fighting your way out of rafe’s grip, much to no avail.

securing both of your wrists in one of his hands, rafe patted the meat of the side of your ass cheek, “a’ight, cut it out — was just playin’ around,” he grabs your cheeks with his free hand, silencing you with a sloppy and slobbery kiss.

annoyed whines left your mouth as you felt the sticky gloss smear off of your lips and onto your chin, “hmph — papi, my lipgl-” you were quickly cut off by your own needy moan as rafe slid his tongue up your lips, before swallowing your mouth into a deeper kiss.

“i know, baby,” rafe mumbles into the kiss, your concealer and lipgloss painted on his chin and jaw as you tightened your arms around his neck, both of your tongues lazily lapping at each other.

the messy and sticky kiss continued for a few more minutes, before you ran out of breath — your once flawless makeup now left smeared and patchy as your lips, now red and swollen, and a bit sore stretched into a cheesy smile. a few of your pinned-up curls had fallen, some wild strands of hair sticking to your lips as you wiped the messy corners rafe’s sticky and glittery lips with the pad of your thumb.

“thank you, sweetheart,” rafe chuckled, not missing the way you still couldn’t maintain direct eye contact with him.

who would even begin to think that he still hadn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend yet?

[ilsanslut]

꒷♡꒷ GAME OVER!

♰ synopsis: in which you seek attention from your boyfriend and end up paying the price. content/trigger warning(s): 18+. smut. gn!reader. full-nelson. rough sex. tummy bulging. creampie. angry(?)!nagi. minor degradation. cursing. ꒷꒦

“Stop it, Y/N.”

Seishiro warned you without looking up from his phone screen for a moment, his fingers still dancing across the glass with expert skill. You were lying beside him on the couch, your bare foot on his bicep, gently nudging him to throw him off his game. You couldn’t help yourself. You wanted his attention, but instead, he chose to play some dumb mobile game. So, you decided to take it upon yourself to get his attention—by lightly kicking him until he paid attention to you.

“Y/N.” His typically soft tone grew a bit of a firm edge, with the slightest hint of frustration making itself known to you.

You giggled to yourself, partially in amusement and partially in incredulity, as you were surprised to hear the slightest infliction of irritation in your typically lax and impassive boyfriend, who, in his own words, “doesn’t get angry because it’s bothersome feeling negative”. Was that about to change? Were you finally about to make Seishiro angry?

There was only one way to find out, right?

You gave him a few moments of reprieve, allowing him to get sucked back into his game and forget about your little mischievous self, despite your antsy toes wiggling against his deltoid giving you away. It appeared to be working because Seishiro's eyes were wide and unblinking as they became laser-focused on his screen, even drawing the device closer to his face just as his tapping became near manic when you suddenly jolted your foot forth and even managed to push Seishiro aside for a second.

“Y/N!—”

GAME OVER, YOU LOSE!

You were so shocked that you could not even contain your laughter. You cackled maniacally as you were holding your stomach at the fact that Seishiro lost, moreover became frustrated with you.

“Haha, I can’t believe it! See, Sei? This is what happens when you chose to ignore me~.”

Though you quickly stopped laughing when your boyfriend's piercing gray eyes locked with yours, his stare was owlish and unwavering, boring fiercely into your own. What made matters worse was that he did not even look angry, but you could feel it radiating off of him in harsh waves that nearly suffocated you and immobilized you where you lay. Your breath caught in your throat as dread suddenly chilled your veins, your mouth gaping as you tried to think of something else to say in your defense, but it was futile.

“So that’s what that was, huh?” His tone was chilling, effectively silencing any rebuttal you could’ve thought to muster up. His head cocked to one side, fluffy bangs shadowing his unblinking eyes as they continued to pierce into your own.

“You just wanted . . . my attention?”

“M’sorry, m’sorry, Sei~! P-please, I can’t! I won’t do it again, I pr-promise—!”

Seishiro had ripped through your underwear, thrown you on top of him, and folded you in a full-nelson to fuck you silly before you could blink. You were choking on your own words as your boyfriend’s cock pistoned in and out of you at a furious pace, leaving you breathless with every unrelenting thrust, each one more vigorous than the last. You could feel him hitting the deepest parts within you, battering your inner walls, and pumping every last bit of his frustration with you into your tight hole.

“But isn’t this what you wanted, Y/N?” He muttered into your ear from behind you. The crazy bastard didn’t even sound breathless as he fucked you within an inch of your life. “You wanted my attention, didn’t you? Wanted to make me angry? Make me lose my game, hm? You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, both in ecstasy and vexation, your jaw lulling open as you babbled incoherent curses through your drooling brims. The pleasure was so great, you felt so full, you could hardly think, let alone form a proper sentence! Not to mention, in this nigh-pornographic position, you were gifted the sight of not only your striker boyfriend pounding you senseless but also the prominent indent that appeared on your belly from every time his stupidly big cock reached the deepest depths within you.

Not caring for a response from you, Seishiro let out a series of soft, muffled grunts from his lips as his cock throbbed within you. “Since this is what you wanted, you should be able to take it, no?”

“B-But Sei! Your too—mpfh! Y-You’re too damn b—”

“—What? Big? You cry about that all the time, Y/N, and yet you take my cock like the pretty slut you are every time without fail.” You could practically hear the eyeroll in his voice as he spoke, pausing his thrusts for merely a second as he adjusted his grip on you, attempting to pry you open further as though you weren’t already splayed out above him. Interlocking his fingers behind your head and pushing himself firmly onto his heels, he basically growled into your ear, “So do me a favor and shut up and take it.”

Without warning, he used his newfound leverage to pound into you with enough force to make your vision go white and your toes curl in the air as he pummeled directly into your sweet spot, eliciting a series of pleasured shrieks and breathless mewls from your drooling lips. You’d be sure to apologize to your neighbors later.

“Ah, there it is. Y’gonna cum f’me?*” He grunted, his breath hot against your ear, as his cock twitched inside of you.

“Oh my god, y-yes! Sei, yes, yes, yes!” You squealed as the knot in your belly tightened.

“Hmmfh, then go on, pretty. Make a mess f’me.”

Before you knew it, you did exactly that, coming undone as you made a mess atop your sweaty and partially clothed bodies. Simultaneously, Seishiro let go inside of you, both of you breathlessly moaning in unison. Your back arched off of his chest as you felt thick, hot ropes of steamy, milky cum shoot into your depths and bloat you full of his seed. It was heavy, too, a result of Nagi not jacking off often, as he found the action to be ‘too much of a hassle when I have you’.

His grip slowly released on you, gently setting your tired and quivering legs down to rest as he lay beneath you, equally exhausted. Even as he did so, his cum still languidly pumped ropes of cum into your abused hole as it slid out of you, making a mess of the poor cushions beneath you two. You would never be able to hold it all, but as you both descended from your highs, neither of you seemed to mind.

Before you could relish in your serenity, you felt a sharp swat on your thigh from your boyfriend beneath you, who now held a small pout on his lips. “Next time you want my attention, just ask. I was about to beat my high score.”

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes playfully as you gazed lazily up at the ceiling. Oh right, that’s what started this mess, huh?

“Mmm, I dunno, Sei.” You drawled, your voice laced with mischief. “If you’re going to fuck me like that every time I bother you while you play, I might have to do it more often~.”

Seishiro said nothing in response. He didn’t even stir beneath you. That is, until your body was turned over and you found yourself face-down on the cushions, trapped beneath your boyfriend's weight, his thick forearm encircling your throat from behind.

“S-Seishiro—!” There was a squeal in your voice as you felt his arm tighten around your throat, pressing you hard against the cushions with his massive bulk and body weight.

“S’that how you feel, Y/N?” His voice was deep, with the faintest of growls beneath it, as he held you taut in his grasp. Between your thighs, you felt his heavy cock hardening once more as he lazily humped it against you, causing your eyes to widen. After emptying the entirety of his balls into you and fucking you into next year, he was getting hard again?!

“Maybe you still haven’t learned your lesson.”

Oh, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t absolutely enthralled by Seishiro when he was like this, and you would most definitely be lying if you said you weren’t going to mess with him while he played again.

ⓒ vampiie 2024 — all rights reserved. please do not repost my work outside of tumblr, modify, or translate my work in any form. please do not share my work on tiktok or any other site.

[of-many-fandomss]

Three times Charles or Max pined for you and the one time they finally did something about it?

Puppy

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: slight cursing

A/N: please don’t judge this, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve written anything

Word count: 1.4k

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Charles? Mr. Leclerc?”

It wasn’t the voice that roused the driver from being trapped in a loop of thoughts within his own mind, it was the gentle but firm nudge against his arm.

His head snapped to the side, his eyebrows up and eyes slightly wide, “Huh?” He breathed out in confusion.

Carlos smirked a bit at his frazzled teammate, “They’re talking to you.”

Charles’s gaze finally floated to the ground below the stage he was sitting upon, where people were sitting in a line, looking up at him expectantly.

He shook his head slightly, lifting his microphone off of his lap and lifting it to his lips, “Sorry, what was that?”

The man that had been asking the question for the press conference looked slightly annoyed, but repeated his question anyway.

Leclerc gave a short answer before his gaze drifted back to the place it had previously been resting, to the person standing in the very back in the crowd, somehow in the middle of a light that made it very easy for his eyes to lock onto.

You, however, were not returning his gaze. Your head was down as you furiously typed away at your tablet, eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration and as oblivious to the piece of hair that had fallen in front of your face as you were of the formula one driver's stare.

“You’re staring again, mate.” Carlos’s voice floated into his ear in a low murmur as he directed his microphone away from him so as to not pick up on their quiet conversation as the crowd continued without paying them any mind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was a pathetic lie, and they both knew it. Especially since he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes off of you long enough to even look at Sainz.

A chuckle escaped the man’s lips and he snickered, “Like a little lost puppy,” He mused.

That was able to finally bring Charles’s eyes away from you and to his teammate, blue orbs narrowing slightly, “Shut it,” Annoyance sat in his tone, though he didn’t bother even trying to deny anything.

Without even looking at you, it was as if the man could sense your movement and turned back to you just in time for you to look up from your device, your eyes locking with his.

“Smile,” You mouthed, knowing very well as his pr that any bad media pictures would not be fun to clean up in the morning.

He did so without hesitation, allowing his face to soften so he didn’t look as stoic as he had when he was addressing Carlos.

You smiled at him in gratitude before returning your gaze to the work you had been previously doing.

“Puppy dog,” This time, when Carlos whispered in a sing-song voice, Charles only allowed his smile to widen.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Here,” Charles’s voice was a soft murmur as he all but materialized beside you.

You glanced to his face then to the flute of champagne in his outstretched hand and took it eagerly, imminently taking a generous sip, “Was it that obvious that I needed it?”

He smiled softly, eyes trained on you as you scanned the crowded room of the charity event that the company had all of the current formula one drivers at currently, “I could sense it.”

It wasn’t any secret that this was one of the most important- and therefore stressful- nights of the season so far for you. Not only were you responsible for making sure that Leclerc looked good in the eyes of the public, but your bosses had enlisted in your help with doing the same for all of the other nineteen drivers.

Apparently you had done such an excellent job with Charles that they wanted to place you in charge of this night. You were never one to turn down new opportunities, no matter how much stress you knew it would bring.

Charles, bless him, had remained by your side for almost the entirety of the night so far, remaining like an anchor to your sanity.

From replacing Lando’s drinks with water to having to pull Daniel away from jumping onto a table, the man had helped you with every task without question nor complaint.

“You’ve been such a big help tonight,” You met the drivers gaze, your eyes wide and full of complete gratitude, “Thank you so much for all of this.”

He waved you off, “I don’t mind,” He told you honestly.

A sigh left your lips, “But you should be enjoying yourself-“

“I am.” Charles insisted earnestly, “This is fun.”

You laughed, “Fun?”

“Fun.” He echoed, subconsciously, moving a strand of hair that had fallen into your face without even thinking about it.

Your smile softened as you looked up at him, something flickering in his eyes so fast that you almost missed it. What it was, you didn’t know.

“Thank you,” You spoke again, your voice soft and full of emotion.

Charles just smiled, never once tearing his eyes away from your face.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“What’s all of this?” Your lips were parted as you spun in place to look around the room, eyes wide.

“Happy birthday!” Carlos cheered excitedly, bounding across the room full of the Ferrari team until he was right in front of you, sweeping you up into his arms in a bone crushing embrace.

“You did all of this?” You gawked up at him when he finally set you down.

“I helped,” He admitted before a large, cheesy grin overtook his features and he waggled his eyebrows up and down, “You’ll never guess who set this all up, though.” His voice was light and teasing.

Your heart swelled in your chest, “Charles,”

As if summoned by the sound of his name falling softly off of your lips, he appeared from within the crowd of red and yellow, joy alight on his features.

“Happy birthday,” He whispered softly as he came to stand by your side, ignoring the smirk Carlos sent him as he slipped away, giving you two some privacy.

The beam that he was met with was as bright as the sun, “Thank you, for all of this. Seriously.”

“There’s no need to thank me.” He smiled, “You do so much for me, this is the least I can do.”

Without thinking much of it, you pushed yourself onto your toes and left a lingering kiss on the man’s cheek, not even noticing his face go red nor his eyes go wide.

“Well, thank you anyway.” You spoke softly when you lowered yourself back to the ground.

“Who wants cake?” Landos voice boomed through the small room, interrupting Charles right as he opened his mouth to say something.

You joined everyone else in your cheers of response, excitedly taking Leclerc's hand in yours and pulling him towards the dessert table.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“I’m so proud of you,” You lolled your head to the side as you spoke, voice full of nothing but complete confidence and honesty.

Charles shook his head softly from the cushions beside you, “I didn’t get pole position.” Defeat crept into his tone.

“No,” You admitted, “But you got p2. Which is pretty damn close.”

“I-“ He opens his mouth to argue more.

You cut him off by firmly grabbing his hand in your own, angling your body to face him, “None of that.” You spoke strictly, catching onto his gaze being locked in your intertwined hands, “You raced amazing and did the absolute best you could.” You squeezed his hand, “I’m proud of you.”

His eyes flickered up to yours, staring into them for a moment as the briefest look of hesitation overcame his features.

Before you could even begin to question it, however, the man seemed to take a quick breath to muster confidence, before leaning in and connecting his lips with yours.

Your eyes widened briefly- for no more than a split second- and just as he went to pull away, you dove forward, capturing his lips in yours once more.

Before the kiss could deepen too much, you both pulled away slightly to catch your breaths, “I’ve been waiting a very long time to do that.” Charles admitted breathlessly.

You grinned up at him in response, “I’m glad you finally did it.”

[iamtrappedinsideasnowglobe]

People be on this site like "omg protect celebrities uwu don't send them weird shit!" .....like.......

[kinq-sleazee]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 watashi wa star ✧₊⁺

　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

18+ | public sex , cockwarming, degradation, idol!sukuna, pop star! reader

♪ ༘⋆ i get money i’m a star, star, star, star …♪ ༘⋆

Sukuna whose mind was set on fucking you from the very beginning. From the time he’d heard that you were considering him, alone, as a feature for your breakout single. His dick was hard. The thought of you spreading your cute little cunt with those bubble gum pink nails for him was scintillating.

Long before the song was even recorded —when the label execs were still trying to hash out the finer details of your contract. He saw that fiery look in your eye when the label pleaded for you to reconsider. Literally begging you to choose the more appropriate twin—the one that complimented your core audience better. But you held firm , defiant as you locked eyes with him.

“That’s the point. I’m done with this goodie two shoes image! Fuck what Uraume says, I can be bad too !”

Sukuna really appreciated your dedication. Seeing you unlock your inner vixen during the video shoot was delicious. The way your scantily clad body twirled and whined around him. He loved how your pebbling nipples stretched the fabric of that cute little number. The way you crawled between his legs and rested your cheek on his thigh. He could how perfect you’d look with his dick stuffed down your throat—drool and his cum running down your chest as he continued to fuck into toy. Especially the little sounds you made when his hand “slipped” into less than appropriate places during your routine. His hands had a mind of their own. So if you were going to put your ass in his face. Who was he not to oblige ?

It had to look authentic right ?

And your hard work actually paid off because by then end of things you’d definitely convinced Sukuna that you’d love to fuck yourself stupid on his cock!

However the media wasn’t convinced.

Cringe

Trying too hard.

She’s finished. Hate that for her.

Why didn’t she choose Yuuji ?

The media reception to your upcoming project was less than stellar. That’s why Sukuna suggested a club appearance. A PR stunt like this could gather excitement and you might have some fun at the same time!

That’s why you were sitting in Sukuna’s section, perched on his lap, while he and his entourage threw bills and popped bottles in front of hundreds of adoring fans. Everyone was laughing and having a good time. Everyone except you. That’s because you were too busy trying to ignore the throbbing cock nestled in your womb.

“You should really loosen up, sweetheart. People are watching. Wouldn’t want them finding out , hmm ?”

The sound of his husky voice in your ear sends shockwaves to your pussy. You whine, walls clenching tightly around the man. He chuckles darkly before your rewarded with a subtle roll of his hips.

“Damn, baby. It’s almost like you want to get caught. You that desperate to prove you’re not a good little girl?”

The hand under your pleated mini skirt grips your thighs harshly. Blunt nails scrape at the skin. A sultry whine drawn out from the action. His other hand glides over your breast to slot against your throat. He squeezes lightly , leaning you against his chest as he turns your face towards his.

You open your mouth to respond but find your voice caught in your throat. Pure lust swirls in his scarlet irises. Heat starts to pool in your abdomen and you find yourself squirming against him. He’s been stretching you so good for so long. You just can’t him yourself. You want more.

Need it.

“N-need you , ryo”

Your voice is wrecked. It’s the best he’s ever heard you sound. Record that shit and you’d probably win a Grammy.

“Tch” Sukuna rolls his eyes, smirking at your pitiful state. “Since you don’t wanna be good for me, then I’ll guess I teach you what happens to brats”.

[incognitoblogger]

Call Me Gerald Pt. 1

This hasn't always been my body and my life. To this day I can't help but be a little silly on camera knowing that I'm the one dressing this perfect, mature body in this neon tank while enjoying a boat day with a plethora of new friends. You see, I used to be in my late 20's living a comfortable yet lonely life. I wasn't in despair or anything, but I had already settled into a mundane routine and lost some motivation to keep fit and trim. This was just my new normal, but everything changed when Gerald Turner moved onto my street. I was instantly enamored by him and the ease of his life. Now don't get me wrong, he had worked hard for decades to set himself up for an early retirement, but now his schedule was clear and he lived a life fully on his own terms.

Admittedly, I overcame my shyness because of the intensity of my crush and made chit chat welcoming him to the neighborhood when I saw the moving truck bringing his lifetime of belongings to the nicest house on our street. He was confident, kind, and effortlessly magnetic...qualities I wish I had...but because of his good nature, he did all the heavy lifting in our small talk and made the first neighborly move of inviting me over for a housewarming when he was better settled in. As the months went on, we became friendlier. It wasn't uncommon for us to chat over some beers and BBQ, and I even forced myself to watch some sports with him.

I learned that despite his ability to make rapid connections with people, he was still incredibly lonely in his own way. He had met his wife while they were both in undergrad, and then they both had separate and successful careers. Gerald went on to law school and practiced for about 20 years, starting several successful side businesses that were essentially passive income at this point. He then left his law firm to teach law for almost a decade purely to keep himself intellectually stimulated and to pay it forward to the newest generation of legal minds. Along the way he had had several children with his wife, and in recent years even became a beloved grandfather. But everything changed when his wife had an affair with her yoga instructor. Gerald rightfully filed for a divorce, but his ex wife poisoned their family with lies and manipulations. All of Gerald's children sided with his ex wife and went fully no contact with him. Gerald, this dynamic, sexy, and put-together man literally burst into tears one night telling me how much it hurt him everyday that he would probably never be able to see his children or grandchildren ever again.

I was sympathetic to the best of my ability and tried to reassure him that I appreciated his friendship and that I was here for him when he pulled himself together and started to apologize to me...but I must regretfully admit that this fully-deserved breakdown tainted my view of Gerald. Here was a man who had accumulated wealth beyond what I would ever be able to...who had a natural charisma and magnetism...and undeniable sex appeal...

It might have been the beers clouding my judgement, but a seed was planted in the back of my thoughts: He doesn't know how good he has it. I would do a much better job living the rest of his life.

From then on, it became insufferable to hang out with him. And I fully admit I was the one in the wrong, but forever more I just couldn't look at him without fully believing he was letting his family schism trap him in an optional hell. He doesn't have to feel that way.

If I were him, I certainly wouldn't be held back by some crazy ex-wife and ungrateful children.

I don't want to wear you down with exposition, so let's just say I had a medical tragedy. Gerald was actually the only one who came to visit me in the hospital according to the visitation logs. This softened my tainted view of him and made me regret how I had been fantasizing about replacing him...until my first night back in my house...

See, the docs told me that I had actually profoundly died and they basically performed resuscitative efforts purely out of formality, but somehow my heart jumped back online and then a surgical team was able to get me in fully stable condition. I was still slightly grieving that my new life would entail severe physical mobility limitations. It made me regret wasting my 20s and not being more active when I actually had youth and opportunity on my side. But youth wasn't even the issue because I watched Gerald arrive home from one of his shirtless evening jogs looking amazingly virile over the age of 50...I was envious again and just wanted to call it an evening. But as I closed my eyes, instead of drifting into a state of unconsciousness that I wouldn't remember, I felt my body losing its tangibility...shedding all of my concrete tethers to the world of the living...

I opened my eyes and screamed as my body seemed to have transformed into some sort of spiritual energy form. My visage floated clumsily and helplessly around my bedroom like a rookie astronaut in a space movie until I found that through sheer willpower I could mentally control the direction in which I hovered. I was still in a state of pure panic as I tried to grab my bed to anchor myself and my hands just traveled through all of the solid matter. This was impossible! I couldn't even grab the phone to make a call and my screams failed to activate Alexa, but in my existential terror I convinced myself that maybe I would still be able to communicate with another living person. Even though that theory made no sense, I'm oh so glad that I rushed over to Gerald's house, floating through his walls screaming my spiritual head off until I arrived at his bedroom and went dead quiet.

Despite being significantly older than me, Gerald was literal perfection in my eyes. It was enough to stop me in my tracks until I reminded myself of my existential nightmare and began screaming at him to wake up. Nothing... I tried to pick up a pillow to throw at him and my hands just phased right through it. I tried to use my willpower to influence the electronics in the room to glitch out like on the ghost shows I used to love and nothing happened...Finally, in an act of frustration I pounded on his chest and to my shock his eyes shot open and he instantly woke with a gasp. I wasn't sure if he could see me, so I tried to quickly pull my hands out of his sculpted chest, but to my shock and horror I couldn't remove my hands. It was the opposite, like quicksand or one of those finger trap toys. My effort to pull out my hands actually caused a rebound effect that pulled in more of my energy until I was inside him to the elbow.

Gerald grabbed his chest and obviously thought he was having a heart attack. In his panic he began reaching for his phone to call 911, but I panicked and didn't want him to get so scared over a false alarm so I pulled with all my might until my astral form could not pull for even a second longer, but this, predictably, sent me towards him like a slingshot and I was now inside him up to the shoulders. The force of this actually hurled Gerald back onto his bed away from the nightstand and he just groaned in confusion and fear as he reached towards the nightstand, now too far on his bed to grip anything but soft white sheets.

My mind was in a panic state at this point, so I figured maybe fighting was the issue and I just have to sink into him in order to be able to get out. I really had no suspicion or thought that this would have any consequence other than occupying the same physical space as him, so I stopped fighting and instead positioned my astral form on top of Gerald and allowed myself to start fully melting into him. Gerald seized and winced as this started to happen, but then I'm not sure what transpired. All I know is I could hear him grunting No No No NO and then I couldn't see a thing. I just felt warmer the deeper I got inside him and then I felt myself whip around 180 degrees and fully disappear inside of his form. For a second I just felt darkness and emptiness. I could hear and feel the sound of Gerald's deep labored breathing and then in an instant I felt like I had been destroyed and dispersed in a massive surge of energy before reforming. Little did I know, my astral form had gone from merely occupying the same space as Gerald to fully bonding with every cell of his body.

I suddenly had normal vision, albeit a bit blurrier than my old sight and I gasped with a deeper and huskier voice. I also felt my weight pressing down on a pillow, but this was all different. For a second I thought this whole experience must have been a dream or a hallucination, but this was not my bedroom...this was Gerald's...and that means that this body must be...

Holy Shit, I'm Gerald!

I let off a healthy stream of panicked expletives given these absurd circumstances, but eventually that seemed unproductive. Out of curiosity I rolled back onto my errr Gerald's back and surveyed the room while thinking. Admittedly, my problem-solving brainstorm session did not last long because I was distracted by this fit and sculpted body coated in the ideal amount of masculine hair.

I should call someone.

I grabbed Gerald's phone and got a chill of satisfaction as I bypassed his Face ID, but then I realized that 911, anyone I knew, or any of his other friends would get me committed to an asylum if I called claiming to be Gerald's neighbor who accidentally possessed him...

No no no I've seen too many movies. We're NOT doing that.

Fuckkkk I hated myself slightly for feeling his cock engorge slightly. It was just really erotic for me to hear his sexy voice expressing my own thoughts.

Okay Focus.

Before I got up in a tizzy I convinced myself that the honorable thing to do was to try to phase back out of Gerald's body and let him think he just had a bad dream. The minutes passed as I tried intense willful focusing and muscle clenching as if I could push myself out. When that left me exhausted and covered in a light sheen of sweat I tried more meditative styles to maybe loosen my hold on him and just slip out peacefully, but none of that had any effect. And you might judge me for admitting this, but after making a good college try I rapidly reached the conclusion that maybe this was for the best. Now the logical part of my mind knows that's nonsense, but the carnal, devious side of my mind was able to gaslight myself a bit. I didn't have anything worth going back to...And Gerald here wasn't exactly loving his retirement with all of his family issues...Maybe neither of us could individually thrive, but my spirit controlling his body and identity...at least that could create one fulfilled and happy person...

Oh it was all too easy for me to believe that lie. I don't know how I got here, but I wasn't going to fight to remove myself from this situation. No...this was clearly meant to happen. I am Gerald now.

I am Gerald Turner.

That gave me a devious shiver of delight to hear those words leave my new mouth...

I quickly took some erotic bed selfies showing off this gorgeous body for Grindr...not able to resist the urge to start worshipping myself. The clicks and dings sounded off in the background like my own little homoerotic symphony as I fished my now rock hard and leaking cock out of Gerald's little boxer briefs and gripped it firmly with my new right hand. This was a hand that had lived a full life and this was a girthy and perfectly straight 8 inch cock that had pleasured many women in Gerald's younger years and bred 3 children with his crazy ex-wife.

"Never Again," I cooed as I tightened my grip and slowly started stroking. "This cock is never pleasuring another woman...Ever Again!"

The authority in my voice made my new toes clench as if on autopilot and I shuddered as I bit my lower lip and tossed my head to the side, ravenously inhaling a pillow to take in my new scent before going right to the source. I lifted my new left arm and huffed in the essence of my new pit.

"Fuckkkkkk," I groaned like a reborn slut as my perfect daddy dick pulsated with desire. "I'm never giving this up! Even if I found a way to get out...Never happening!"

I grit my teeth now after aggressively spitting in my hand to lube myself up. My abs looked so shredded as I thrust up into my grip, all while worshipping those abs, pecs, and nipples with my free left hand.

"Jesus, Gerald! These nips are sensitive as hell!" I hollered out as I teased those nips good--alternating back and forth until the combo of this teasing and cock pleasure had me literally kicking my legs out and digging my new big feet into the bedding. My new toes were clenched harder than ever as I tried to get even more leverage to fuck my slick grip. On and on this went for minute after minute...the pleasure reaching new and new peaks all while I got lost in the selfishness of this moment and berated my former friend, unaware if he was gone forever or if he could hear me from some dark corner of his mind.

"I'm Gerald! You hear that Gerald? This is MY body now! You're NEVER getting this back! You're NEVER coming back!!"

And with that my back arched and I instinctively grabbed the bed sheets before quickly scooping up my new balls to jostle them around as the first shot of my load launched out with so much force that it smacked me in the mouth and splashed all over my face. I licked up as much as I could with my tongue, moaning in approval at the deliciousness of my own new essence as I kept going.

I roared in delight with each pump and thrust milking out more and more of this still virile seed--first coating my neck and chest and eventually my new abs as the shots gradually lost intensity. Finally, I was still milking this cock with fully dry shots...still in so much orgasmic pleasure...coated in well over an ounce of hot seed and still helplessly wincing and whining as I desperately tried to get out just one final drop. I finally watched that final droplet crest out of my new cock slit and then I relaxed--crashing back onto the bed in a soaking wet sweaty heap...sighing in euphoria and satisfaction while massaging this copious amount of cum all over my new body.

When my afterglow finally faded, I got back into my new phone with Face ID again...smirking as I scrolled through my dozens of prospectives on Grindr. I wasn't going to be bogged down by Gerald's awful family issues. In fact, it worked to my advantage. It gave the perfect cover and disconnect from his roots for me to truly have a fresh start with this body's wealth and physical beauty. I get to write my own destiny now in a body and life that makes me feel motivated to make the most of every new day. That realization is making me get hard again already...Well hot damn, I better pick one of these Grindr hotties quick so I have some company for round 2...

Be on the lookout for Part 2. I'd love to make this almost a diary style series where I recount my ongoing adventures and developments as Gerald. And let me know what you think! I didn't really think this through--I just kind of got inspired by photos and busted this out in one chaotic burst, so I know the perspective and tense shifts are little crazy. haha I will try to write all future entries from the perspective of a real diary--as if I'm recounting events that have happened that day/week.

[lvnleah]

You Can Let It Go | AWFC x teen!reader

Summary: after a long recovery after having your endo surgery, you finally make your return to the pitch but two people you were hoping to be there aren’t.

word count: 1.5k

find the series masterlist here! (currently only two parts)

if anyone has any ideas for this series or anything they want to know send them through my asks! 💗

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Growing up you’d never had the best relationship with your parents. In comparison to your friends, your parents were never around. You lived a comfortable lifestyle and the opportunities you were given were amazing but you’d trade everything if it meant having a closer relationship with them.

Your dad had his own lawyers firm and travelled out of the country quite a lot, your mum was a PR manager for high-profile celebrities which she also travelled a lot for. With your parents travelling a lot it meant that you were left with your grandma.

It had been two months since your endometriosis surgery, the weeks after the surgery were spent with Beth, Viv and Leah making sure you didn’t lift a finger. They cooked your meals, cleaned up after you, did your laundry and spent many days with you lying in bed watching Disney movies.

Leah visited every day after training, bringing you your favourite snacks and magazines to flick through. She was there for you no matter what time of the day it was, there was one occasion where you slipped out of bed and cried in pain in her arms while you were sleeping over.

You found yourself unable to sleep, the pain in your abdomen stubbornly refusing to go. You slipped out of bed and slowly walked down the hall to the living room where Leah, Beth and Viv were sitting on the couch a movie playing softly in the background.

“Leah,” you whispered, tapping her shoulder gently.

She stirred, blinking sleepily at you. “Hey, kid. What’s up?”

“Can’t sleep,” you admitted, your voice shaky. “The pain...it’s really bad tonight.”

Leah sat up immediately, “Okay, let’s try and get you comfortable.” She helped you back to your room, propped you up with pillows, and handed you the heating pad. “Take some more pain relief. I’ll stay with you until it kicks in.”

You nodded as Leah climbed onto the bed beside you, you cuddled into her, “I’m scared, Leah. What if this never gets better?”

“It will, kid,” Leah reassured you, her voice soft but firm. “It might take time, and it might be hard, but you’re strong. And you’re not alone in this.”

You gradually started to feel better. The pain became more manageable, and you began to regain your strength. Beth, Viv, and Leah were with you every step of the way.

Eventually, you returned to training, the physios had made up a plan that introduced you back into training slowly and carefully. The team welcomed you back with open arms. You took it one day at a time, listening to your body and not pushing yourself too hard.

The morning of your comeback game came quickly. You woke up feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, you were a little tired after not being able to sleep out of excitement. Beth and Viv were already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. You quickly got dressed and joined them, your excitement bubbling over.

“Morning!” you greeted cheerfully, plopping down at the kitchen island.

“Morning, kid,” Beth said with a smile, flipping a pancake onto a plate. “Big day today! How are you feeling?”

“Excited! And a little nervous,” you admitted “But mostly excited, I think, I don’t know. I can’t wait to play again.”

Viv grinned, setting a glass of orange juice in front of you. “You’re going to do great. We’ve all seen how hard you’ve worked to get back to this point.”

You dug into your breakfast, the food helping to calm your nerves. “Thanks, Viv. I’m just really hoping my parents show up. I haven’t seen them in a while, and it would mean a lot if they were there.”

Beth and Viv exchanged a quick glance, but you were too focused on your pancakes to notice. “I’m sure they’ll be there,” Beth said, trying to keep her tone light.

“Yeah,” you said, a hopeful smile on your face. “It’ll be nice to have them see me play again.”

After breakfast, you grabbed your gear and headed out with Beth and Viv. The car ride to the stadium was filled with chatter and laughter, the three of you discussing tactics and game plans. Your excitement was infectious, and even Beth and Viv couldn’t help but feel the anticipation.

You arrived at Meadow Park, instantly finding Kyra and Alessia to walk around the pitch with. After that, you headed inside and changed into your kits before heading out for a warm-up.

As the warmup came to an end, you noticed Leah, Beth and Viv talking near the entrance to the changing room. Leah looked over at you, nodding before Beth and Viv walked away.

As you headed for the changing room with Kyra, laughing your heads off, Leah was waiting for you, her expression a little more serious than usual.

“Hey, kid. Can we talk for a sec?” she asked.

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach. “Sure, what’s up?”

Leah glanced around, ensuring no one else was within earshot. “I know you were hoping your parents would be here today...but they’ve not turned up, kid.”

You swallowed hard, trying to mask the sting of disappointment. “Oh, that’s okay. I figured they might not make it. Work and all.”

Leah pulled you into a hug. “I’m sorry, kid. We’re all here for you, though.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Leah.” You forced a smile, determined not to let the news dampen your excitement.

As the game began, you could feel the weight of their absence pressing on you. You tried to focus but your mind kept drifting back to the empty seats where you’d hoped to see your parents. Each missed pass, each stumble felt like a personal failure, the disappointment gnawing at your confidence.

By halftime, it was clear that something was off. Beth and Viv exchanged worried glances. As you took a sip of water, Jonas walked over to you.

“I’m taking you off, okay?” He told you, “I heard what’s happened, you’re not in the right frame of mind and I don’t want any injuries. Is that okay?”

You nodded and changed into your Arsenal tracksuit before joining the rest of the team on the bench. The full-time whistle blew and you shook the hands of the other team before heading inside to gather your things.

The car ride home was silent. Beth and Viv tried to engage you in conversation, but you responded with blunt answers, your gaze fixed out the window. The tension in the car was thick, and you could feel their concern, but you were too wrapped up in your own thoughts to address it.

Why couldn’t they turn up for one thing? All you wanted was a few hours of their time.

As soon as you got home, you headed straight to your room, slamming the door behind you. The moment you were alone, the tears you’d been holding back spilt over. You curled up on your bed, clutching your childhood teddy to your chest as sobs wracked your body.

In the kitchen, Beth and Viv stood in uneasy silence, the weight of your sadness pressing down on them. “She’s really hurting, Viv,” Beth said quietly, her voice tinged with worry.

“I know,” Viv replied, her brow furrowed. “We need to do something.”

Beth nodded. “Let’s go to her.”

They made their way to your room, knocking gently on the door. “Hey, it’s just us,” Beth called softly. “Can we come in?”

You wiped your tears away quickly, trying to compose yourself. “I’m fine. Just…just need some time alone.”

“Please, kid,” Viv said, her voice tender. “Let us in.”

You hesitated, but the sincerity in their voices made you relent. “Okay,” you whispered.

They entered the room, closing the door behind them. They sat down on the end of your bed together. “We’re here for you,” Beth said, her hand resting gently on your leg.

You began to cry again, harder this time. “I just... I wanted them to be here,” you choked out. “I thought... maybe they’d come.”

Viv laid down beside you and pulled you into a hug, her arms comforting. “I know, kid. It’s okay to feel hurt. But we’re here, and we care about you so much.”

Beth rubbed your back soothingly. “You don’t have to go through this alone. We’re your family too.”

“I wish you were my parents,” you confessed through your tears. “You’ve done more for me than they ever have. I’m…I’m so stupid for thinking they’d turn up!”

Viv tightened her embrace. “We love you, Y/N. And we’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

Beth nodded, her eyes glistening with her own tears. “You’re not alone. Not now, not ever.”

Their words, their presence, soothed the ache in your heart. For the first time, you felt the depth of their love and support, and it gave you a sense of belonging you hadn’t known you needed. The three of you sat there for a long time, holding each other until the tears finally stopped and you fell asleep.

You fell asleep in their arms, clutching your childhood teddy. Once they knew you were asleep, they slipped out of your room and let you sleep the night away.

[seeingivy]

bad blood

actor!ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my dream girl fic

songs mentioned: bad blood by taylor swift and obsessed by olivia rodrigo

--

--

“are you of the opinion that all PR is good PR?” 

sukuna can tell that it’s not the time for jokes. that much is obvious to him from the exasperated looks on everyone’s faces at his ill-timed comment – at nanami pinching the bridge of nose, yuuji shooting him an irritated look (with a whisper of a smile on his face), and his manager shoyo’s eyes pinched shut in frustration. 

“i would be inclined to think that, but sukuna is over party trending for the past three hours is giving me a run for my money here.” shoyo responds. 

sukuna diverts his eyes back to the television, shoyo’s computer projecting the trending hashtag onto the screen, and his fingers darting to refresh every few seconds with another set of irritating tweet about him. sukuna’s gotten the hint from the first three, but he has a sneaking inkling that shoyo’s doing this part just to rub it in his face – that it’s his way of saying i told you so without explicitly doing so. 

shoyo was interesting in that way. managers were interesting in that way. 

sukuna wondered to himself how many other careers had these types of dynamics, with “mentors” who served as stand-in parents. telling someone what to do, what not to do – in attempts to guide them from right or wrong – that almost never worked in his case. 

his gut instinct tells him that almost every single profession does. but it also tells him that the other managers can’t be half as annoying as the special spot that entertainment managers take up. 

at the very least, he can appreciate the take that shoyo has on his position. like a firm, strict father figure. he spares no warmth for him – just the way sukuna likes it. 

“so what are we going to do? can we just ignore it?” sukuna asks. 

it’s a loaded question. 

what can you do when you might have possibly tanked every attempt at an entertainment career before it even starts? 

sukuna’s first manager, starla, taught him three simple facts about the entertainment industry. among other things.

in particular, that the warmth was something that sukuna needed to run far, far away from. 

first – attention is hard to attain. anyone can audition to act in a show, but only one person gets picked. you can be the best in the game but it doesn’t matter unless someone looks at you. 

second – once you have it, attention is hard to maintain. if someone takes the time to watch, who’s to say that they’re ever going to watch you again? anyone can be a one hit wonder, but it takes greater skill to stay relevant, to keep people interested in what you’re putting out. 

and third. reputation is everything. it’s best practice to avoid becoming a contrarian. it’s social suicide to your career. 

it seems that sukuna might have nipped the first two in the bud, by accidentally becoming a contrarian. again. after so narrowly missing it the first time. 

that’s the thing that’s the most frustrating in his opinion. that sukuna did almost nothing out of the sorts, that he had followed every single prim and proper rule he could have after his first few tumbles – and that this time, he very simply became a contrarian for dumping the wrong girl at the wrong time. 

sukuna had made his own additions to the facts as time went on. especially after he was dropped by his old manager, promptly when he turned twenty-three. 

lessons that he learned on his own. this situation alone added three to his list. 

first – do not date the daughter of an industry titan. who has a loving fanbase that will attack you if the two of you break up. 

second – do not crack jokes about good and bad PR when you’ve inadvertently created a mess for almost everyone around you. 

and third – tread lightly the week before the biggest break of your career. things move so fast that they’re in absolute shambles before you know it. 

“there’s nothing you can do besides follow the script that the PR team gave you. keep questions about aimee to a minimum at the event tonight. deflect to the show and only the show.” 

sukuna gives shoyo a mock salute. he still doesn’t find it funny. 

in fact, sukuna can tell that he’s had exactly enough for this meeting, marked by the almost immediate exodus he makes from the room, with nanami following in tow. nanami shoots him an apologetic smile over his shoulder as he exits and it’s one that sukuna can appreciate. 

“you know, i really do question your taste in women.” yuuji states. 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“you question everyone’s taste in women.” sukuna deadpans. 

yuuji gives him a laugh – the one that he had been holding in from earlier – and smacks him hard against the shoulder. sukuna can feel the pressure that he was trying to ignore compounding in his head, as he sinks down into the couch. 

“i’m being serious though. i just don’t understand what you see in these girls. none of these relationships really have a fighting chance, which at this point, you almost have to be doing on purpose. i know you’re not that dumb.” 

sukuna shrugs. he can tell that he’s being baited into having a conversation, a conversation that he doesn’t want to have, and makes a mental note to yuuji later that he shouldn’t lay it on so thick. 

“your point is?” sukuna mutters. 

“i’m not trying to make a point. i’m trying to understand why you’re so…so keen on pursing things you know won’t work out. it’s almost like you don’t want it to work out for you.” 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. you sound like an idiot.” 

yuuji shakes his head, almost like he’s giving him a sentencing. trying to tell him, making it a point that he’s been caught red handed, that he has to give into the conversation.

“don’t tell me you’re really not trying in earnest because of what happened?” 

sukuna can feel his frustration coming to a head, right in the center of his forehead. it always felt like feelings were concentrated there, right in that sensitive part of his head that made him rush to anger. 

“it’s not about that.” 

yuuji takes the hint. he jumps over the line as often as he can, but won’t push any farther. 

“i just think that you should give things a real, earnest try. i know that none of us can really understand what happened, but…but that doesn’t mean that it’s going to happen every time. you…you shouldn’t be happy that you’re not trying to find love for real.” 

sukuna clicks his tongue in his cheek. 

“and who said i was doing that?” 

yuuji sighs. 

“you’re always the same you know. you never try for real because you’re scared you’re going to strike out. you….you still…you’re still afraid to pursue someone you actually like because you think…” 

yuuji doesn’t finish the sentence. but sukuna knows the answer, because he’s said it before. 

you’re afraid to pursue someone you actually like because you think they’ll realize there’s nothing to like about you. 

--

--

“do you ever think about pushing yourself creatively?” 

you wonder how many times someone can ask the same question, worded differently. 

in mimi’s case, you’ve reached a whopping count of six. categorically organized – three times while you were out doing your morning coffee, twice over dinner, and today marked a new first,  while writing music at the piano. 

each question exactly the same, every response exactly the same. 

“no. i want to stay exactly the same for the rest of my life.” you deadpan. 

your dry humor earns you a laugh from mimi. in all fairness, it almost always does, because it’s very easy to make her laugh. because she’s a person who is easily pleased, very outgoing, who very simply put, enjoys most things. 

“i wouldn’t even be shocked if you said that to me. your google calendar is my very worst nightmare, you know that?” 

“my google calendar is perfectly organized. just as it should be.” 

“i mean. very organized. i am very appreciative that you’re on time to all of our meetings, which is very rare with your generation.” 

“you’re in the same generation as us. you’re not even that much older than me.” you deadpan. 

“okay, but being a mother has aged me like ten years. all of my friends do pilates in their free time, make brunch plans for fun.” 

“i’m your friend. i don’t do pilates in my free time. and i eat at five in the morning on the dot everyday.” 

“yeah. you’ve just take up different odd hobbies, but it’s basically the same thing.” 

you scoff, as you flip the page on the stand of the piano. 

you wonder how often mimi thinks about that type of thing. the life that she used to live. the fact that you could be doing all the things that she couldn’t necessarily do anymore. it makes you wonder if that’s why she’s so adamant. 

“i could be doing drugs you know.” 

“you should be doing drugs!” 

well, that answers your question. 

“i can’t wait to see what your child does in the future. you’ve set such high expectations!” 

mimi rolls her eyes. she’s very easily pleased, very outgoing, and filled with an overwhelming well of patience to counteract your stubbornness. 

it’s granted that she almost never wins, that your firmness in your decision always stands at the end of the day, but it doesn’t mitigate her efforts to try. you’re betting that she’s going to give her very stubborn daughter a run for her money in a few years when she’s older. 

“i don’t mean that you should actually do drugs. or maybe i do. some of my other writers love to drink or smoke weed to get through writer’s block. it just a little shift to push you to some new limits.” 

“perfect. i’ll just try to do some ketamine before my next song so that it sounds better.” 

mimi sighs. 

“i’m not telling you to go do horse tranquilizers. i’m stating a very simple fact, that you tend to gravitate towards what is comfortable for you. in your personal life, in your friends, in your songwriting. you’ve found a sound that you work great with, themes that resonate with people. but you’ve been stuck there, right where you know people want you. it wouldn’t hurt to try pushing the limits here and there.” 

you scoff. 

“you sound like a shitty inspirational quote.” 

mimi shakes her head. 

“i often find that stubbornness to approach new things at the end of the day creates a sort of resentment towards anything that stimulates new growth. and keeps you stuck exactly where you are currently. stagnant.” 

you don’t like the evaluation. the sentencing that she’s given you, that she’s been giving you for the past few months. 

that you aren’t going anywhere. 

you not liking it doesn’t make it any less true. but her saying it over and over again doesn’t propel you into doing anything about it either. 

“and what if i fail to do this whole moving thing you’re talking about?” you jest. 

mimi pinches her lips in a line. 

“then it proves to me that you’re just approaching this entire thing wrong. you’re not winning an award, you’re writing a song. it’s not an examination that you’re completing, it’s just something you’re trying to say.” 

you give her a dry smile. 

“and what if no one wants to hear what i have to say?” 

“that’s where you and i will disagree. i fear people are on the edge of their seats waiting for it.” 

you snort. 

“are you not a fan of me sticking it to idiots like jake nicholson and aimee lynch?” 

mimi gives you a smug grin. 

“a huge fan. but i can tell that you’ve got something else under the surface that’s dying to be let out.” 

“i suppose that’ll just have to wait for today.” you respond. 

mimi shrugs. 

“i’ll try again tomorrow.” she affirms. 

you’re not sure why she tries. you’re still going to say no. 

--

sukuna’s manager’s strategy was very simple. all he had to do was save face for a week – a week until the show came out. tell people to watch the premiere on the red carpet, throw in an anecdote about filming here and there, and that was that. 

granted, his job wasn’t exactly hard. the ensemble cast did most of the work, satoru’s loud voice combined with how energetic yuuji is, allowed him to slip through the cracks and make it inside the venue without any unsavory questions about aimee. 

sukuna looks across the room to where the two of them are standing near the bar, glasses of ice in their hand, satoru no doubt flicking his charm and stupid pickup lines at everyone. he understood the strategy – that sukuna having the opportunity to talk created a greater risk for him to say something he shouldn’t – but it just made the event boring for him. 

sukuna hated being on the sidelines. 

quite literally the sidelines, because the table he was currently occupying was pushed against the wall. he would retreat back to the main table in the center when the two of them returned, but judging by how loud they were laughing, it didn’t seem like it was going to be any time soon. 

“excuse me.” 

sukuna’s thrown out of his train of thought by the voice, only to find he’s accompanied by two girls at his side. sukuna inches his glass of soda closer to him, noting the sparky stars gleaming on their eyelids, accompanied with layers of beaded bracelets on their wrists. 

fans. sukuna’s found his in. 

“can i help you?” sukuna asks. 

the two girls look at each other, a nervous laugh escaping their lips, as they squeeze their intertwined hands together. he prays to god they’re not here for aimee. 

“are you ryomen sukuna?” 

sukuna smiles, looping his elbow across the back of the chair, and smiling. there’s no distaste in their voice – so they most likely aren’t. he’s won. 

“sure am. who might you be?” sukuna asks. 

“we’re addison and abigail.” they respond. 

sukuna uses his free hand, gesturing for them to take the free chairs across from him. he watches as they both widen their eyes, stumbling knees hitting the bottom of the table as he readjusts and leans back. 

interviews and networking he wasn’t allowed to do. that much was clear. but talking to fans caused no trouble, and it wasn’t explicitly off limits.

it gave him time to do what he did best. charm people. 

“addison and abigail. to what do i owe the pleasure?” sukuna asks. 

“we don’t want to take up any of your time.” abigail starts. 

“really, we’re sure you’re quite busy. this is a big event and all and you probably have to do interviews and all that.” addison adds. 

sukuna grins. 

“i’ll always make time for you.” 

he watches as their eyes widen, abigail’s lips pinched shut together by the bluntness in his statement, as he lifts his glass and presses it to his lips. 

“i have a question.” sukuna states.

“anything!” addison replies. 

her response is too fast. so fast that sukuna can almost clock that she’s realized that it’s too fast – that she’s embarrassed at how eager she was to respond. he shoots her a kind smile in response, before leaning forward and bracing his forearms against the table. 

“how did the two of you sneak in here? secret boyfriend let you in?” sukuna asks. 

the two of them offer him an awkward laugh, slightly releasing their shoulders, as they lift their hands and very adamantly gesture the opposite. 

“not at all. we got selected to attend the event through the fan program.” abigail responds. 

sukuna smirks. 

“here for me?” sukuna asks. 

the two of them widen their eyes, almost like they’ve been caught in an awkward situation. because they’re very obviously not here for him. 

the fan invites were given for the singers and affiliated studios. and he’d be caught dead before singing live in front of an audience. 

“i’m so sorry. i don’t mean to…” 

sukuna immediately retreats. 

“you do realize that i’m not a singer, right?” sukuna asks. 

“what?” abigail asks. 

“i don’t sing. there’s no way that you could be here for me.” sukuna clarifies. 

the two of them breathe a sigh of relief, abigail giving him a jokingly irritated glare as he shoots the two of them a smile. 

“relax. i’m just pulling your leg. it’s all in good fun. we can take a picture and everything, whatever you want.” sukuna responds. 

the two of them breathe a sigh of relief. 

“really?” she asks. 

sukuna nods. 

“that’s so sweet, thank you so much. we have a friend who’s a really big fan, so we were trying to get her a signed shirt.” 

“a signed shirt it is.” sukuna responds, noting that they reach into their bag with the shirt and marker prepared. 

“oh my god. i thought you were….you were going to be a diva or something.” abigail responds. 

“me? a diva?” sukuna jokes. 

“you wouldn’t believe it. god, some people can be so rude. one time, aimee lynch got us…” 

addison’s quick to respond, shoving her elbow into her side to gesture for her to be quiet. sukuna narrow their eyes at the two of them, before rolling her eyes. 

sukuna, in the split second, debates if he should respond. if it would go against the deal he made – to be quiet, to not cause any noise – because they could go running and post about it on twitter.

he decides against his better judgment, only because it’s potently clear they’ve been terrorized by aimee before. 

“got you kicked out of an event?” sukuna asks. 

“yeah…” addison mumbles. 

“she does that often. it’s a whole load of shit. i’m glad you’re here.” sukuna responds. 

“yeah. we were just really upset because we were actually supposed to meet y/n that day. we had tweeted to her that we got kicked out before we made it to the meet and greet and her team organized a whole like facetime call and sent us merch, but it was super annoying.” abigail responds. 

sukuna nods, only because he knows all too well, that it’s exactly in her character to kick fans out of events. their “desperation” always got on her nerves. 

“well, i hope you get to meet her tonight. she is here, right?” sukuna asks. 

“yeah. she invited us personally since we missed out last time.”

sukuna smiles. 

“that’s sweet. i hope you get to meet her later.” sukuna responds. 

--

--

there’s a patterned knock on the door of your dressing room. two fast, two slow, two fast. it’s accompanied by the door swinging open and the reflection of megumi standing in the mirror with a cup of iced coffee in his hand. 

you shoot him an excited smile, apologetically shooing away your hair and makeup team from the chair, to get up and greet him. 

“coffee? for moi?” you ask, exaggerating every syllable. 

megumi rolls his eyes, placing the cold cup into the palm of your hand, as you shoot him a smile.

megumi hates when you exaggerate the syllables – which is precisely the reason that you do it. you have an inkling that he secretly loves it, because he’s a secret fan of your antics. 

“figured you needed it. you look like a hag.” megumi responses. 

you snort down a laugh, as you take a sip from the overly sweet coffee. 

“hag is a new one. you’ve always had such a way with words, my love.” you joke. 

you return back to your chair, gesturing for him to take the free one at your side, as you reach for your phone and read through the last texts you got from mimi. all confirmations – that your guitar and band have arrived, that you’re all good to go at the end of the hour. 

“is romeo here?” you ask. 

you can see megumi’s irritated expression out of the corner of your eye, accompanied with a pink flush that creeps up his neck. 

“what’s his name again? yuki?” you joke. 

“yuuji.” megumi corrects, his voice almost stern. 

“okay, relax. pipe it down three notches, juliet.” 

megumi lifts his hand, awkwardly rubbing it against the back of his neck, as you drop your phone in your lap and narrow your eyes at him. 

“what did he do today?”

“you don’t care.” megumi mumbles. 

“and that hasn’t stopped you from telling me in the past.” 

everyday, for the past eight months, you received a barrage of texts from megumi. ranging across every emotion in the human bandwidth, but always about the same thing. 

his new co-star. how great his hair look, what text he sent him that morning, how his skin looked perfect in the light. you would nip that type of dialogue from anyone else in the bud. but megumi wasn’t anyone else. 

“but you’re asking. which means you can’t complain, because you basically warranted it out of me.” 

you roll your eyes. 

“yeah, yeah.” 

“he got us matching pins for press this week. they’re like little cartoon versions of us. but he also got one for our other co-star nobara, so it doesn’t really count.” 

you shrug. 

“but he still got you one. so it does count. that’s cute.” you respond.

“but she has one too.” 

“but did he give it to you as a group or individually?” you ask. 

“individually.” megumi responds. 

you smile. 

“exactly. it means something different when it’s individually.” you respond. 

“you’re delusional.” megumi responds. 

you roll your eyes. 

“you could benefit from being a little delusional, drama queen.”  

“and then when we were coming here, i was telling him that you were going to be here and he got super excited. he remembered that i always used to get you coffee before your first show so he actually stopped our car and made sure that i was able to get some from you since you’re performing tonight.” 

you grin. 

“not technically my first show, but i appreciate the effort. I love him already. especially if he’s so passionate about my caffeine addiction.” 

“it’s from his coffee shop that he works at with his brother. they used to work there together when they were younger and like…he was telling me all about it. how the two of them used to work there after school and that the owners were like their second parents. they almost went down under a few years ago but they both had enough acting money so they invested. he was even introducing me to them and shit. like fully introducing me to people he views as family.” 

you nod. 

“wow, juliet. when’s the wedding?” you ask. 

“shut up.” megumi responds. 

“but really, that’s actually very sweet. he seems like a great guy.” 

“he is a great guy. he wants to meet you too, you know?” megumi responds. 

“that would be against your better judgment. i’m going to tell him all about your little crush. and propose marriage on your behalf like you’re my property in the 18th century or something.” you respond. 

“your jokes never get funnier.” megumi deadpans. 

“and yet you’re still here.” 

“his brother is here too. the one who used to date aimee.” 

you widen your eyes. 

“poor guy. it’s probably a blood bath out there for him.” 

“he made it through press unscathed, but they’re telling him to keep a low profile. but yuuji’s all worried because he tends to get erratic and take things into his own hands sometimes.” 

“what are they saying again?” you ask. 

“fans are mad because the report that went out said sukuna dumped her or something.” 

you snort. 

“is that even bad when she was like basically cheating on him the whole time?” you ask. 

“don’t think he knows that.” 

you shake your head. 

“really?” 

megumi shrugs. 

“i get the impression he didn’t care about the relationship too much.” 

you nod. 

“well, then my song won’t hurt his feelings too bad when he finds out they used to date.” 

you push up out of the chair, gesturing to your outfit as megumi gives you an approving nod. you link your arms together, pushing out of the door onto the floor of the venue, and continue your conversation in lowered voices. 

“do you want me to punch jake?” megumi asks.

“and ruin your pretty little baby hands? i would never.” 

megumi rolls his eyes, as the lights dim, and the two of you direct your eyes to the stage. it’s a long introduction, all of the producers and affiliates taking the time to thank everyone for attending. you’re performing at the end of the hour, which gives you enough time to zone this out and focus on the song. 

“our very first performance is from one of our affiliates at dancing lady studios – aimee lynch with guest star jake nicholson.” 

you and megumi widen your eyes as you turn to look at each other, as you all but crush megumi’s arm in your grasp. the two of them walk out onto the stage – and you note that her sparkly silver is almost identical to the outfit you had been wearing on tour for the past few months.

and that jake’s using the guitar that you gifted him on his birthday. 

you know she’s doing it on purpose. that she knows that about you – that you’ll connect dots and draw conclusions – to exactly what she’s trying to do. 

piss you off. 

Did you think we'd be fine? Still got scars on my back from your knife So don't think it's in the past These kind of wounds they last and they last Now did you think it all through? All these things will catch up to you And time can heal, but this won't So if you come in my way, just don't

Oh, it's so sad to think about the good times You and I

megumi leans down, voice quiet as he whispers in your ear. 

“this is going to do rounds on kids bop.” 

you snort. 

“they would be so lucky.” you respond back. 

'Cause baby, now we got bad blood You know it used to be mad love So take a look what you've done 'Cause baby, now we got bad blood (hey!) Now we got problems And I don't think we can solve 'em You made a really deep cut And baby, now we got bad blood (hey!)

“did you know they were going to do this?” megumi asks. 

you shake your head. 

“there’s no need to worry. i’m always prepared.” 

--

“unless i’m not mistaken, you didn’t catch any strays tonight. how can one be so lucky?” shoko jokes. 

“we can’t all be the chosen ones.” sukuna responds back. 

“the night is still young. a girl can only dream.” shoko responds. 

sukuna rolls his eyes before smiling at her and trying to shake shoko’s grasp off of him, as he turns his attention back to the stage. with the event in full swing, he was allowed to return to the central table, only because the group of them around him to keep track of him. 

shoyo’s doing, he was sure. 

but he’s sure that shoyo was somewhere fast asleep in his bed right now, having the most restful nap he’s taken in months. sukuna’s inclined that he’ll feel the same way tonight when he goes to bed, with the promise of no scolding from his team since he did, in fact, not catch aimee’s wrath tonight. 

it was attributed to someone else tonight. he’s not exactly sure who, but at this point, all he can do is be thankful that it wasn't him. 

“who were you talking to earlier?” shoko asks. 

“fans who got invited to the event.” sukuna responds. 

“poor girls. they got assaulted by the smell of your cologne and had to lose brain cells by talking to you?” shoko jokes. 

sukuna scoffs. 

“that already happened when you walked into the room. don’t kid yourself, ieiri.” 

“you should learn some manners. is that any way to talk to a woman?” shoko asks. 

“can you guys shut the fuck up?” 

shoko and sukuna turn their heads to the left to find satoru standing there, eyes razor focused and glued to the stage. 

“what stick is up your ass?” shoko asks. 

“it’s y/n’s turn to perform.” satoru seethes. 

shoko snorts. 

“don’t tell me that your dream girl is in attendance? how are you even standing straight right now?” shoko asks. 

“pure adrenaline, bitch.” satoru responds. 

sukuna and shoko widen their eyes as they share a look – a quiet communication that satoru’s being more erratic than normal and to leave him be – as they turn their attention back to the stage. 

the bright lights shine red on the stage as the visuals go up, a twisting and turning illusion against the back screen. there’s a rising platform in the center and all he gets a glimpse of are sparkly star tights. 

La-da-da-da, da-da-da, la-da-da-da-da La-da-da-da, da-da-da

If I told you how much I think about her You'd think I was in love And if you knew how much I looked at her pictures You would think we're best friends

'Cause I know her star sign, I know her blood type I've seen every movie she's been in and, oh god, she's beautiful And I know you loved her, and I know I'm butthurt But I can't help it, no, I can't help it

I'm so obsessed with your ex (uh-huh) I know she's been asleep on my side of your bed And I can feel it I'm starin' at her like I wanna get hurt And I remember every detail you have ever told me So be careful, baby

I'm so obsessed with your ex (ah) Yeah, I'm so obsessed with your ex (ah) La-da-da-da, da-da-da

sukuna can feel his heart pounding in his throat. he grabs yuuji by the shoulder, yanking him close from the fabric of his shirt, and whispers. 

“who is that?” 

“were you born under a rock? that’s y/n.” 

sukuna watches as you skip around the stage, bathed in the dark red lights surrounding the stage and the visuals with you in the background. 

maybe sukuna was born under a rock. he was one thousand percent sure that he would remember something like this. 

“the guy that was up with aimee earlier. she’s jake’s ex-girlfriend. they were singing about her.” yuuji whispers. 

“is she singing about aimee?” sukuna asks. 

yuuji nods. 

“they have some weird twisted history. especially with jake, i think. him and aimee have had eyes for each other since like…forever.” 

he watches as you walk over to the left side of the stage, crouching down into the view of the camera and right across from where jake and aimee are sitting, irritated looks painted on their faces. 

sukuna notes that you're looking right at them. full blown, direct eye contact.

Is she friends with your friends? Does she give great head?  Do you think about her? No, I'm fine, it doesn't matter, tell me Is she easy-going? Never controlling? Well-traveled? Well-read? Oh god, she makes me so upset

I'm so obsessed with your ex (ah) She's been asleep on my side in your bed (ah, whoa) I'm so obsessed with your ex (god, she makes me so upset, ah) I'm so obsessed with your, with your ex

sukuna’s frustration compounds again. 

because he can’t simply understand how he’s the one getting publicly punished, when aimee’s been in love with some other guy the entire time. and that knowing her, she most definitely leaked the news about how she was blindsided on purpose, just to ruin his career. 

“if i was y/n, i’d just punch them both in the face. then start dating one of her boyfriends or something.” shoko states.

the idea comes to sukuna almost instantly. and he makes a mental note to apologize to shoyo later.  

--

when you get off the stage and retreat back to your table near the wall, you quickly scan through your texts from mimi. 

[mimi]: Three versions slated for release. Could potentially block you getting the #1 spot. 

[mimi]: Fingers crossed, but things are faring over well. People love the song.  

[mimi]: Obviously. 

you set the phone face down at the table and sink down into your chair. you don’t even get a second to think because before you know it, someone’s slid into the chair right across from you, hunched forward into your space over the small chair. 

pink hair, arms littered with tattoos. there was something oddly familiar about him. 

“you’re just the girl i wanted to see.” he states. 

you narrow your eyes at him. you’re unsure which one he is. producers trying to poach for their studio, people looking to network, or the perverts that somehow get let into events like this. 

“is that right?” you ask, tone dry. 

the guy offers you an over-eager nod, accompanied with a glimmering smirk. 

he’s attractive and you can tell from the look on his face that he knows it. for some reason, you’re almost positive that he makes sure of it. toned muscles, hair so perfect that it has to be styled. to the point where it feels calculated.

you lean forward, placing your cheek in the palm of your hand as you smile right back at him. he leans forward almost immediately. it was almost too easy. 

“i don’t think we’ve ever met before. i’d think i’d remember that.” you respond. 

“only in my dreams.” 

you fight the urge to scoff. you’re sure that one worked out well for him in the past. It's the only reason someone would say something so corny and mean it.

you hold your hand out to him, noting that he extends the handshake for far too long. 

“y/n.”

“ryomen sukuna.” 

that’s where you knew him from. this was megumi’s co-star. romeo’s brother. 

“from jujutsu kaisen, right?” you ask. 

sukuna gives you a glimmering grin. you note that he has a dimple on the left side. 

“know everything about me, don’t you?” 

you snort. 

“sure do. you’ve got me all figured out, sweetheart.” you deadpan. 

sukuna leans back, narrowing his eyes at the comment. you can tell that he’s rethinking what to say next. 

“i know about the show because of megumi.” you clarify. 

“we go way back.” sukuna responds. 

you lean back against the chair and cross your arms over your chest. you've got him right where you want him.

“really?” you ask. 

sukuna nods. 

“when did you meet him?” 

“elementary school. he was always the quiet type.” 

sukuna pauses. 

“speaking of types, what’s yours?” 

you fight the urge to laugh. there was no way he could truly be this forward. but then again, you figure his deep urge to get back at aimee right now was probably inhibiting his good judgement at the current moment. 

“why do you ask?” 

“you’re a smart girl. i know you can figure it out.” 

you take the bait. 

“i’ll give it a shot.” you respond. 

“that’s my girl.” 

you smile before leaning forward to make sure that he hears you properly. 

“your name is ryomen sukuna. indie actor for the most part, but you recently got signed on as part of the lead ensemble for mappa’s new show, jujutsu kaisen. you’ve gotten pretty far considering all things, which i’m sure comes as a byproduct of the whole charm bit that you do and from what i’ve heard, some pretty decent acting. and while you’ve done mostly well, you made the brutal mistake of becoming a social pariah by dancing with the tabloid devil, aimee lynch. you’ve ended up on their bad side and now, in some weird type of way – i’ll admit, i’m not exactly sure how – are trying to elicit my help to get you back in people’s good graces. by lying, of course.” 

you watch as sukuna’s eyes widen, before he leans back, his cheeks the slightest shade of pink as he swallows hard. and you give him your sincerest smile before pulling out your phone and digging for the photo in your favorites. 

of you and megumi in grade school, standing hand in hand. 

“i think i’d remember if the human version of pinkie pie from my little pony was running around my elementary school, sukuna.” you state. 

and shockingly enough, he only gives you a smile in response – like he’s almost delighted by the fact that what you've just read caught him in a lie– as he sticks his tongue in the side of his cheek and makes a clicking sound. 

“got me all figured out, don’t you dollface?” 

“you’re painfully obvious, like most men. i’ll see you around, sukuna.” you respond, as you turn on your heel to walk away. 

but he’s almost too fast with it, slithering his hand down from your elbow to your wrist, pulling slightly to beckon you to turn back. and he gives you an…a more earnest smile this time as he raises your knuckles to his lips, and leaves a kiss in between the pointer in the middle. 

“that’s a promise, sweetheart.” 

--

--

next part linked here

an: hi!!!! welcome back to the dream girl universe - I thank you for your patience <3 i'll be using the old dream girl taglist, but let me know if you would like to be taken off!!!

taglist: @porridgesblog @platrom @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @timmytimmytuckyy @dreamxiing @mamamamamarga @skunabby @meisque @hoseokslefteyebrow @thepurpleempath @shrimphutao4ever @monic19 @najaemism @haitanibros0007 @catobsessedlady @luvs4kim @ri-sa20 @thejujvtsupost @invisible-mori @satoruslipbalm @kyo-kyo1 @telepathicheartss @huhsthccvjh @sxnkuna @w31rdg1rl @lilalia3945 @multiplefandomthings @shotovhs @voids-universe @timetobegone @deeeeexx @livelovelaughisagiyochi @pelicanpizza @cowgirlikets @jeon-blue @phantomasmaniac @yoontaedotin @cowgirlikets @estrella-novella @theauthorunicorn @catastayy @ryumurin @kindadolly @th0tformikasa @r0ckst4rjk @you-always-made-me-blush @leave-rae-alone @lemonnotade @firelordazulaaaa @stuffeddeer

[sgiandubh]

The trouble with Stravaigin'

This pic is currently making the rounds on Tumblr and X, and for all the good reasons (thank you @mariaae, for bringing it here):

After a rather busy week and an even busier week-end, it's certainly nice to check in for this 👆.

Funny how the dunces across the street dub this a 'wrap party combo' of sorts. Oh, come on, are you that stupid, people?

Jamie Roy's OG post is absolutely clear with this regard:

'Thank you @thevinepr for having us at @stravaigin_g12's 30th Birthday.' An event that is directly linked to this very recent Stravaigin's announcement, that has to do exclusively with S's spirits' business:

'In an announcement that will delight the legions of whisky lovers who have been demanding its addition to Stravaigin’s renowned drinks menu, The Sassenach @sassenachspirits by @samheughan is today confirmed as joining the bar’s Scotch whisky offering as a permanent fixture 🥃. (...)

Stravaigin's Olivia Wong - Scotland's Bar Manager of the Year says: “We are thrilled to welcome The Sassenach to Stravaigin. We are all big fans of Sam and his Scotch whisky here at Stravaigin and know excitement levels will be running high with our patrons, as we announce it is becoming a permanent addition to our drinks menu.'

Note to self: this is something Marple 'forgot' to post about, despite her all-consuming obsession for S. Without this information, the rest was presented as just another heavy drinking sesh. Tss, shame on you, madam! Is this where you're at? Lying to your readers, in an attempt to demonstrate: a) S is a highly-functioning alcoholic (by your reasoning, half of the UK might be, ROFLMAO) and b) Ashley Hearn is a lazy, entitled idiot, who spends her time in bars chatting and drinking with her buddies?

Lying by omission is either a mortal sin (when made with the purpose of hurting someone's reputation) or a venial one (when 'in jest', like the Screeching Banshees pretend to do). But I have no idea if that woman is a Catholic, nor do I care. Either way, it's unsavory as fuck. So long for playing it Switzerland, in here.

All of the above to emphatically (LOL for ages) say that this event has nothing to do with Outlander. This has everything to do with Sam Roland Heughan and his own, local business network. This is exactly why Jamie Roy was thanking the organizing PR firm (more on this, a bit later in this post).There were zero reasons for C to be there that night, something that has been confirmed by fans on X:

Interesting: 'took a picture with them'. In the context, people were wondering if there were pics with the Two of Them, not the rest of the cast. But hey, didn't you know? THEY CAN'T STAND EACHOTHER, NEVER COULD!

And there we go, we have the arrival video (why does it always have to be Brazilian fans directly or indirectly involved? that is a mystery on par with who killed JFK, LOL):

And here we have it, courtesy of @maripimpao, the OG X poster (https://x.com/Mari_pimpao/status/1850588095046971487?t=p3_lv013WuINhA085ayr4A&s=19).

... S arriving separately, as predictible, probably on his own (fucking Tumblr doesn't let me upload more than one video, but you'll find everything on the X page above), then C and Skeleton (God, that girl must KNOW stuff!) together - not surprised at all, either:

A normal convo ensues, C stating that she feels 'both happy and sad' because Friday was their last day ever on set. I was very surprised by her genuine warmth, to be honest, as I wasn't expecting it, but it is in line with public lore on her being spotted before by fans.

A word on The Vine PR company. This is one of the biggest PR firms in Scotland and even the UK, with a very nice portfolio of clients, partners and events they manage on the regular:

Oh...

And re-oh...

So, there should come as no surprise to find, among The Vine's clients (for whom it managed flagship events), two of LVMH's portfolio companies/brands: Moët & Chandon and Glenmorangie. I also remember being ridiculed, as writing fanfic, by both Marple and her minions. Well, eat crow now, I have been announcing it for a year, already, for both of them. Not once, but three times in a row.

One...

Two...

Third time's a charm/Jamais deux sans trois:

Business-wise, this is about the amount of time it takes to make things of this amplitude happen. Wait, I forgot that business was bound to flounder, sweet Baby Jesus on a motorbike!

On top of it all, I have some very inconvenient, yet rhetorical questions (for the people across the street, a rhetorical question is supposed to make a point, not wait for an answer):

What about McTavish's spirits business? Still in promo mode, bought medals, and all the tralala? Hmmm.

What about Tony McGill? Why isn't he seen at any event at all, in the music business or otherwise, like ever? Isn't he supposed to manage (Media Manager, my 🦶) a Scottish band? Where was he, on Friday night? How does he even do business? Hmmm.

Oh, FFS.

[nebty]

Neil Gaiman is still following the PR playbook

I'm so sick of how Neil Gaiman is continuing to manipulate the conversation while displaying ZERO accountability or remorse.

Do you think him leaking that he's apparently offering to step back from Good Omens Season 3 is a sign that he realizes he fucked up and is trying to make it right? Absolutely not.

What he's doing is making the first moves to launder his reputation so that he can keep making money off of his IP and, eventually, return to the spotlight. All of the overjoyed reactions here and elsewhere are part of that plan.

One part of that Deadline article really stuck out to me.

[Highlighted Text: Deadline understands Gaiman’s offer is not an admission of wrongdoing...

Gaiman’s position is that he denies the allegations and is said to be disturbed by them.]

This is what makes me think that it is actively irresponsible to publicly celebrate or advocate for the continuation of any media project that involves or enriches Gaiman. The fact that Amazon has even announced that Good Omens is on hold shows the credibility of the accusations. And yet Gaiman leaking this information suddenly puts them on the backfoot. "Just take the deal!" cries the fandom. Neil is no longer the bad guy, it's Amazon who are now denying you your comfort show. It's blatant manipulation and it sickens me that it might actually work.

Boosting Good Omens or Sandman or Coraline at this time is not a victimless crime. True, no one person is going to be the difference between Gaiman facing consequences or not. But it's public opinion that will truly determine whether his legacy will be impacted. That's why he's spent a considerable amount of money on the same PR firm as Russell Brand, Prince Andrew, Danny Masterson, and Marilyn Manson. Their specialty is helping rapists get their lives back.

So please think of the long-term implications of breathing a sigh of relief and going back to posting about Good Omens, or signing a petition that gives Gaiman a way out of finally facing the consequences of his own actions.

Yes, none of these shows were 100% made by Gaiman. It sucks that this is going to affect people other than him. But maybe he shouldn't have chosen to sexually abuse at least 5 women and very likely more. In a just world, you fuck around and find out.

[pixelnrd]

Jasmine was doing one of her many demeaning coffee runs for her boss one morning, when someone approached her in the coffee shop.

'Jasmine?' said a refined voice. She looked up and took a moment to recognise who was calling to her - it was Andrew Chen.

Jasmine immediately felt bashful. She hadn't treated Andrew very well when she had dated him, and when she reflected on it she felt ashamed - especially considering how her relationship with the man she had passed him over for had ended. So it was with embarassment that she returned his greeting and wondered why he even wanted to talk to her.

But Andrew was friendly. He asked her how she was, and seemed to be able to tell that she wasn't doing the best. He asked her to drink her coffee with him, and so the pair went outside to walk and talk.

Jasmine told Andrew all about her current lot - how she was living with her roommate in a run down flat, how she and Roy had broken up and why, how her job - the dream job she had worked towards - wasn't the job she thought it would be. Andrew actually listened to her. It made her feel a lot better, letting it all out to someone. Even though by the end she felt especially vulnerable.

'You know... my family have a relationship with a firm, they do a bit of work for us now and then whenever the... odd scandal comes up,' he said with a smile. Jasmine didn't really understand what he could mean by that. What kind of family had a PR firm?

'The point is, maybe I could make an enquiry if they're looking for someone... pull a string. It's quite boutique, but I think it would suit you.'

Jasmine couldn't believe how kind he was being to her. She wasn't sure why she was owed such generosity.

And within a few weeks, she was walking through the doors of her new workplace, as a newly hired PR manager with her own team underneath her. She could hardly believe where she had ended up!