#but only the director of poor things

[wonderthor]

random p*rn star nanami thot

i feel like he wouldn’t be much of a talker, which is funny cuz his deep and sexy sultry voice would be enough to get both his viewers and fans and whoever he’s fucking off. it’ll come out out of the blue, when no ones expecting it and probably make even the director and the photographers close their thighs together. he could say something like “that’s it that’s it, just like that” or “come on, you can do it. do it like that, just for me” and everyone within earshot would be drooling and creaming their pants.

he’s been in the business long enough and usually isn’t trying to try new things or join up in new trends, which is sad cuz he’d dominate anything he would try. he doesn’t really have to put in much effort; with his great stamina and strength he can go on for hours and hours and fuck hard like a wild animal in a rut. one time he did try a new position and put a fellow actress in a full nelson, the poor girl could barely walk for a whole day. he was talked into trying some BDSM films, but was scared off when his costar came unscripted and untouched when he spoke deeply in her ear with that dangerous voice of his “now be a good girl and listen to your master” with his tie around her throat.

he’s very well known in the biz but isn’t overly arrogant or conceited. before every film when his costar is introducing themselves and greeting him with high energy and saying how much of a fan they are, he simply nods his head and shakes their hand with a warm and polite smile, “hello nice to meet you”, like a business man meeting a client. he’s very cordial and a bit stoic at first, and then bending them over and fucking their lights out two minutes later. he’s very caring, checking on his costars after every scene. he’ll even bring water and food to them after he asks if they’re okay and they’re only able to give a thumbs up since their legs are still numb from having their insides rearranged.

#y’all i wrote this months ago and forgot to post this #i’m still very much feelin it tho #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #kento nanami #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento x black reader #jjk x black reader #anime #anime smut #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami

[thehmn]

I finally got to watch Viften (Empire) and it’s such a fascinating movie. It was written by Anna Neye who also plays Anna Heegaard, a rich free black woman who’s dating the Danish governor of the island.

It’s sold as an absurdist comedy and I think there’s no other way to describe it. There aren’t any real jokes but you often end up laughing at the absurdity of it all.

It’s extremely honest about the horrors Danes put the black population through but thankfully it only shows it in quick flashes of art as seen in the trailer. I once watched a video where they explained why most women aren’t into slasher movies and why black people generally don’t rewatch movies about racism and slavery. It’s because the the horrors shown are very real fears and a fact of life so the only people who can really enjoy watching a woman get horribly murdered as entertaining are men and only white people can watch a black person getting whipped to death with cinematic lighting and have a fun night out. By showing the horrors in art they get to be clear about exactly what is going on without coming off as exploitative.

But it’s also very honest about the ways a society based on slavery fucks with everyone. Most of the servants at the manor are slaves except the cook who bought her own freedom years ago. She tells the housekeeper Petrine that some day she too will be able to buy her freedom and get her own slave. That’s right, the freed black people aspire to get their own slaves because that’s the sort of values a society like this instills in people. And Anna tries to be as nice as possible to her own slaves but doesn’t take her own success for granted and is more afraid of an uprising than her white lover and ends up doing some really horrible things to her slaves to keep them down.

It also touches on how people viewed being black or white back then. That it wasn’t all about skin colour but also status. That’s why all the white people treat Anna as one of them. She’s a rich, educated lady so of course she’s “white”. Even Anna express contempt at being called black because she doesn’t work in the field. The poor freed black people also call Petrine white because she dress and acts like a Dane. Not as in “you are pretending to be white” but as in you are white.

And hats off to the director Frederikke Aspöck. There’s a scene where a woman buys her freedom and they put on a symbolic slave auction where she gets up on the podium and bids on herself. All the white neighbors have come to witness it because it’s seen as this joyous day and they all clap, she’s offered to drink with them and she’s all smiles. The director managed to make the scene wholesome while highlighting the absurdity of it and all you can do is chuckle because what the fuck? The white people think it’s a good thing that she’s free but continue to keep and mistreat their own slaves, and she no doubt dreams of getting her own down the road. It’s very much depicted as institutionalized racism and not just “a few bad eggs”.

And I didn’t know where to put this but there’s a lot of interesting symbolism going on with Anna’s dresses. She always wears dresses that match the colors of the rooms she’s in, establishing her as fully part of the system, but as she begins to realize that the Danish state will never see her as fully equal her colors start to clash with her surroundings.

I watched it on Netflix and it has English subtitles so it should be somewhere for English speakers to watch if you feel so inclined.

#viften #empire #movie #history #Youtube

[hierarchyproblem]

I used to volunteer at a charity that gave out food to homeless people on the evenings. They got a lot of donations - excess stock from the amazon warehouse, that kind of thing - so they also distributed supplies to homeless shelters and womens' shelters and stuff. My job was loading and unloading the vans, sorting donations, and cleaning the big warehouse that they rented. I got on especially well with one of the other guys there; he was an old-school anarchist and a wilderness outdoors type who spent half his time living out of a tent in the middle of nowhere in Scotland, so he had stories and shit. I think he was in a kind of long-term homeless-by-choice situation; when he wasn't up in his mountains sometimes he'd squat in the warehouse and store his stuff there while he was between other accomodation. The charity was cool with that, he'd been with them for a long time and they knew the deal and they had the space.

Except one day one of the directors or whatever came down and threw his shit out onto the street and told him to be gone by the end of the day or he'd call the police. No idea what precipitated that and I never saw this guy again. Writing this out it seems insane: surely he must've done something to precipitate that? Nobody so much as suggested that at the time. I heard what had happened from one of the drivers, and he said the fucked up thing about it was that this chair of trustees (or whatever his role was) was prestigious and well-off enough he could've got any hotel in the city to put this bloke up indefinitely just by asking! But he chose to fuck up this guy's living situation as far as I could tell just to flex his property rights.

I always knew, obviously, that charity is at best a superfical treatment only of the symptoms of capitalist society, and totally orthogonal to the revolutionary change that'd be needed to actually fix the social and economic problems of this shitty society. Of course. But this is what opened my eyes to how much abuse and exploitation goes within the charity sector itself. This is the worst I've heard of, but the same principles are rife: poor conditions, long hours, ducking your workplace rights if you're "just helping out occasionally," poor pay for paid staff and volunteers treated like they're disposable. It shows too how easily a charity for homeless people can end up writing off the people they're set up to help, especially if they refuse to passively accept the little that's on offer. Not every charity has all of these problems, but a lot have at least some. And the guys at the top end up running it like a business 'cause that's how everything's expected to be run; if you've got upper-management experience that's how you see the world.

I don't volunteer there anymore and I'd think very carefully before giving any of these organisations your time or your money. There's homeless people in your area I bet - give them your cash directly and spend the time chatting with them if they like.

#draft purge

[lady-ashfade]

Our comfort. Pt2

Platonic!Yan!Camp Half-Blood x Comfort!Goddess!Reader.

Just some more hc’s of a scenario I came up in my head!

Warnings: Short, Yandere tendencies, Platonic!!, obsession, the kids being upset. Spoilers for the beginning of the second book!!

The camp was under attack and Percy found himself, and his two friends arriving at the scene. He and the others all joined in on killing the metal beast that plagued the camp.

Percy was itching to see you again, Annebeth was also since she was always with you since she came to the camp and that summer she went with her father.

The camper’s returning had no clue of the changes in the camp. Not only from the new activity director, but from a change you had brought.

The first time Percy walked to his cabin to drop off his things, annabeth on her way to with Tyson following them, caused confusion.

A big white cabin with carvings of the same he saw in Olympus. It was beautiful. Flowers growing up the sides of it, statues placed around it and the gold accents. It was beautiful, like a new aphrodite cabin.

There was a crowd of campers surrounding the outside as two older campers stood on ladders to hang up the new flag.

“What’s happening?” Percy leaned over to his friend. She just shrugged, “I didn’t know there was anyone to add, maybe the lesser known have had children.”

Then chaos broke loose when the flag finally dropped. And the symbol made the campers gasp and rub their eyes to see if they actually saw it.

It was your symbol.

When they found you at the train grounds with some of the students that stayed there over the summer. They rushed around you and screamed for answers.

“Why is there a new cabin?” “You can’t have children!” “This isn’t far!”

Yeah yeah we all know how it goes down. The child screaming, and demanding answers. All they could do was watch you tap your foot and wait for them to quiet down like a mad mother. Once they all calmed down that decided to listen to your speak.

And everything was true. You had children and they are close to the age to coming to camp, even could come to camp now. And oh boy, they started to scream again.

Those poor children had no a clue how much they had going for them.

Some campers could wait to meet your child, and love them the way they love you. Become their protectors, surely they would be as comforting as you.

Some campers hated them. They didn’t need to met them, they wanted them gone. You had a whole camp of children to take care of but you had to go and have your own? That’s now how this should work, aren’t they enough for you? But they knew they couldn’t do much about it because once you got upset, the gods were angered.

And then, the other half. Didn’t really pick a side in it. They are willing to share, or not. What ever happened they didn’t really care since you’re still at camp.

#Percy Jackson x reader #plantonic percy jackson x reader #yandere percy jackson #yandere #plantonic #Plantonic yandere Percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians x reader

[tteokdoroki]

ೀ⋆OCT 31ST LEGALLY BLONDE ━━ seishiro nagi + coercion !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. seishiro nagi + coercion. there’s no way someone broke up with nagi because he’s too blonde!? poor baby, maybe you could provide a little emotional support…(5.5K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, strangers to lovers (?), teaching assistant/student relationship, dom/sub dynamics, some switching, reader is lifted up by nagi, coercion, dubcon, handjobs, virginity loss, cherry chasing, oral fixation, mind break, praise kink, creampies, soft sex, clothed sex, unprotected sex, TA!reader, elle woods!nagi.

୨୧ — director’s note. happy halloween my loves! i hope you enjoy the final kinktober fic! its been super fun writing and editing for you all. stay tuned for the bonus in the coming weeks <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

this law school thing wasn’t all what it cracked up to be. 

after the love of his life, reo mikage, had broken up with him for someone smarter, blander and richer than him — nagi had been blessed with the genius idea of following his ex all the way to one of the top law schools in the world. the plan was practically fool proof, the guys at his sorority worked hard to help seishiro study — pulling all nighters for practice tests and rewarding him with naps every time he had gotten a question right. 

rin itoshi had even convinced his parents to reach out to a hollywood director so that they could film nagi’s audition tape. it obviously featured isagi and bachira too. nagi had even worn his best designer swim trunks to impress the board of admissions. they’d all been super supportive of the light haired male in his endeavours and were there when he passed his LSAT exam

with all of this combined, he had managed to get in in — if that wasn’t enough for reo, then what was?

the answer? nothing.

reo still wanted that bland, basic bitch his family was marrying him off to. she was sensible, she was rich and seishiro quickly realised that he had only ever been a bit of ditzy fun to reo — a dumb blonde to stick his dick into whenever the time felt right. eye candy and nothing more. balancing his shattering hard with the complexities of law school had been tough for the white haired male and everything seemed to be going wrong. no one would study with him, reo wouldn’t even look at him and his friends back home were busy with the wedding plans nagi so desperately wished he had. 

however, that’s when you came along. 

after having the epiphany that he didn’t need reo to succeed — nagi knuckles down and studied hard for the law firm internship being offered amongst his cohort. he was relieved to have you as a teaching assistant in the process, not only were you absolutely gorgeous but you were compassionate and empathetic. you were smart, eloquent and everything seishiro wished he could be for his ex.

perhaps that’s what drew him to you, why he followed your every word like a puppy drooling after a treat. you’d been kind to nagi for the entire semester, from helping him out with studying for the internship right down to today, where he would be taking on his very first case in a court of law. it should have been easy, the facts were simple too. the client and fellow fraternity brother  (shidou ryousei) was accused of and arrested for the murder of his wife… but something about the events weren’t seeming to add up. nagi couldn’t come up with an alibi either. 

it was as if the words; the reasonings, the justification for shidou’s freedom were right in front of grey-scale eyes, only scrambled up like morse code. “how about we take a break?” as if you were a vision from his dreams or an angel from up above, you appear behind nagi’s tall frame as he slumps defeatedly against the hotel room desk — your hands fixing themselves to his broad shoulders for a massage. “you’ve been at this all night, seishiro.”

the law student swears your touch could heal all human ailments, the warmth of your palms seeping into the tense parts of his muscles like a cell performing diffusion — relaxation forming a comfortable fog over his brain. “i know shidou didn’t do it,” nagi defends with a grumpy pout, leaning back into you so that his head rests lazily against your stomach. “he told me… he said he was getting liposuction.” 

“we’ll need evidence of that,” you note, jerking your head to the side so that nagi can write it down. this entire time you’d been such a good mentor. “good boy.” something clicks in the light-haired male’s brain, a crackle of electricity shooting down his spine at your praise — swirling around in his guts as if to activate arousal.  “run me through the witness statements again.” there’s a sensual lilt to the tone of your voice and your touch cascades from his shoulders up to his neck like a backwards flowing waterfall.

seishiro isn’t sure if he’s making things up or reading the signs correctly — but he knows that there’s some kind of tension bubbling in the air. particles that resemble an aphrodisiac using kinetic energy to collide together, painting the room with lustful colours. “shidou’s step daughter says she heard a gunshot around 2:15pm after leaving the shower, walkin’ downstairs only to find shidou hangin’ over his wife’s body — covered in blood. ugh, this is too much hassle. this doesn’t make any sense!” he tosses an annoyed sigh into quietness of the room, moaning in surprise when you cup the base of nagi’s neck to pull his head up to face you and your eyes meet.

“you need a break seishiro, we can come back to this later,” you hum, the vibrations of your voice laced with sex appeal. as he swallows thickly, the law student’s Adam’s apple bobs under the pressure of your fairy-light grip on his throat — anticipating more from you. at this point, you’re half bent over him as he leans back in the chair, pink tongue slowly darting out to cover your lips in a spit shine. “how about it?” 

this feels so wrong. nagi’s cock stirring beneath his slacks at how good and kind you’re acting towards him. no one has ever gotten him this hot before — no one aside from reo. and you were still his teacher, by technicality, it would be wrong for nagi to even consider sucking your tongue down his throat. and yet, he can’t find it in himself to stop the temperature from rising between you, for falling into your dangerously salacious trap. 

“y-yeah,” he breathes deep when you squeeze his throat a little to test the waters. “i could do with a break.” 

“me too,” you gasp all too agreeably, bending the rest of the way down to capture seishiro’s lips in a searingly hot kiss. just as he wished you pry his mouth open with the tip of your curious tongue — pushing through his plush lips and curling around his own pink appendage. the lip lock is passionate, ravenous despite the mess and spit that you exchange. he chases your lips until he can’t breathe, sloppily accepting anything you give him, letting you lead where he can’t. 

he’s never done this before, not like this, not without reo. but in this moment, the silver-blonde doesn’t think he could ever go back to making out with his ex. not now that you’re the one kissing him. 

“i-i've never done any of this before.” the blonde gulps, swallowing down the copious amount of spit that builds on the palette of his tongue — looking into your eyes as a sense of hunger dawns on him, as if you’re the very meal he’s set to devour. “not without anyone that wasn’t—“

reo. 

sure they’d done stuff together. naughty touches here and there, hands ghosting over boxer briefs and fingers tweaking nipples (sei’s were especially sensitive because of the cute little piercings his ex insisted he get) — but nothing close to actual sex, nothing with a girl, nothing with someone like you. a burning heat, unlike anything nagi’s ever felt before, begins to brew in his lower stomach. his cock rises beneath his pants that suddenly feel all too tight.

nagi’s girth twitches against his thigh as your nails rake their way down his chest and slowly pop open the buttons of his crisply pressed white shirt. it heaves beneath his clothes — heart hammering against its calcium cage of his ribs. 

“i can tell, pretty boy.” you soothe him by purring into the shell of his ear, teeth tugging at the softness of his lobe. “but you’re a good kisser though. did reo teach you that?” your lips cascade down to his neck like a gentle flowing river at the same time that your hands delve below the belt to squeeze at seishiro’s swelling erection — testing the waters. 

his hips instinctively buck up into the warmth of your palm and a grin spreads across your plush lips at the feeling of his precum soaking his underwater and smearing across your fingers in thick, clingy webs. 

white and seedy and he’s nowhere close to cumming. almost like a little virgin. 

“have you ever done this before, seishiro?” 

the sound of his name, salaciously spelt out on his tongue, earns you a high pitched whine from nagi — his head rolling to the side and his thighs squeezing together with vicious need. “n-no,” he pauses before he grunts out a response and his entire body seizes as you take a firmer grip on his cock — jamming a thumb into his leaky slit to spread his arousal. “but i wanted to i just… reo said not until marriage—“

“— you don’t have to listen to reo anymore.” you announce breathily, setting a steady pace to your fist to jerk him off with. you’ve barely started and yet your hand is already glossed in a slight sheen of pre, soiling your knuckles from its viscousness. it’s so much for someone who’s never gone father than sloppy kisses and grinding while making out. it nurtures a certain seed of satisfaction in your chest to see him so messy so fast. “you can listen to me, sweet boy. do you want this… do you want it with me?” 

without letting go of the fat, drippy cock within your grasp — you shift to stand between the desk and nagi’s chair, shoving papers and court notes to the ground in your lustful haze. nagi thrusts lazily into your closed fist as if it’s instinct, following the sensation like a moth takes to a candle light. his grey eyes grow murky like a pond, swimming with desire for you and only you.

who was reo mikage to seishiro nagi? when there was an angel like you willing to feed this inexperienced man morsels of a heavenly pleasure he’s never felt before. the lawyer in training nods at your words like an eager man fallen to siren’s song as bait. “i want you,” he whimpers airily. “i wanna with you.” 

you rub down his thick, lengthy dick far enough to have your fingertips briefly brush against seishiro’s sensitive, weightly balls — just pulsing full of seed to give to you. the feeling makes nagi jump up from his seat so that he immediately towers over you. his height doesn’t overwhelm you, not when the towering blonde collapses onto you with a case of the shakes. he trembles above you, supporting himself by using one hand on the table while is mouth sloppily finds your neck to suck on and pacify himself.

“good boy, sei,” you coo, voice as sweet as hot sugar or candy. “i want you too. i always have. you’re such a pure, darling boy. glad to see that it’s true.” your praise is hidden in your soft moans as seishiro licks at the crystalline salt on your bare skin. you’re a little too twisted, taking advantage of his inexperience and his position beneath you as a student, but neither of you seem to care in this very moment. 

sweat beads against nagi’s hairline like diamonds on an expensive Chanel necklace and roses bloom across his cheeks with exertion — his hips rise and fall into your sticky fist in fluid motions, changing the steady stream of ecstasy you provide him. your hand is a solace for his aching cock, but you still make your student work for it. make nagi chase you since he only works hard for the things he wants. and right now, he wants to reach the end of the tight rope of pleasure you have him walking on. and to stave off the stormy frustration he feels from the case.

your hand wriggles it’s way into his wet silver locks, dragging nagi’s hungry mouth over yours since he’s so desperate to taste you, to have at you. it shows in the way he roughly grabs your hips too, grip so tight it threatens to leave bruises he’ll have to apologise for later. “ngh… please. g-god. miss…a-angel please,” he stutters, his bucking into your hand faster and harder, back and forth, back and forth through the tight ring of your fist. his bright and angry red cockhead peeks through the other side, glazed in opaque white — it’s a nice feeling, blistering hot and sensitive. “i…hah… gotta—“

nagi’s lashes flutter against your cheek — a strained whine reverbing in the base of his throat while you let him fuck your hands to his heart’s content, let him chase this new pleasure he’s never known. let him fall from the high heavens with blackened and burnt angel’s wings. you make him sin, for the first time ever. something about this should feel off to nagi, his law teacher taking advantage of him like this — but at this point, he’s too far gone, drowning in a hellfire of lust. 

mocking his moans, your mouth falls open in one of your own as you follow along with the pitiful expressions crossing the contours of seishirou’s face. “what is it, sei? what do you need?”

the room is too hot. your bodies against each other are temperate in the sex tainted air — accompanied by wet slapping sounds from your hand around his throbbing cock. “n-need to let go. it h-hurts,” he sniffles out, forcing his tongue into your mouth again to calm himself down. the more you speed up, remorselessly jerking him off, the closer nagi gets to the end of his own tether. this sensation is unfamiliar, the crumbling foundation of his orgasm coming crashing down as you fling droplets of his precum and arousal about the place — some of it landing on your clothes, the desk and discarded papers. 

again, neither of you care. 

“surrender to me baby, it’s okay. i’ve got you.” guiding the pale blonde through his first ever orgasm, you pour your heated words into his slobbering mouth — tongue running over his pearly white teeth and tangling with his drool coated tongue. that’s all sei needs to hear before he crumples against you with a shout — the first wave of his high crashing over him and pulling him under. 

it’s world shattering, brain melting as he cums. his abdomen contracts under your never-ending touch, ropes of hot white dribbling from his stimulated tip like a tap that keeps running. nagi swears he almost blacks out, falling dizzy and victim to your lustful charms as he twitches and cums and cums into your soiled palm. 

“f-fuck,” a soft whimper bubbles up on his raw bitten lips, stuttered out in suprise. “w-what was that?” 

“you orgasmed for me, sei, so pretty baby.” comes another set of your gentle praises. he feels his entire body wrack with a shakes at your words, his cock doesn’t dare to soften either. “you look so good when you cum.” 

his greyish-brownish eyes roll back into his skull when you let him go, his tip slapping against his clothed tummy. the brush of his cotton shirt against the slit on his tip makes him writhe from the sensitivity. “c-can i cum for you again? promise i’ll keep being good.” 

“of course,” you grin, proud that to have corrupted the poor boy. “are you okay to let me touch you again or do you want it now?” 

“touch me. now.” he growls, gripping your hand and guiding it towards his dribbling shaft, aiding the movement of your palm around him to start slow and lazy — working seishiro up into a heat once more. this time, the way your hand languidly jerks him off is made smooth by the evidence of his last orgasm, which you now use as lube. if you weren’t pressed for time and with a court case first thing tomorrow, you would have gotten onto your knees to clean up his copious amounts of mess. 

you quickly reduce him to a babbling mess against you, drool laden on his tongue and dripping onto his skin as you drive your thumb over nagi’s hot tip in tight circles with your free hand — touching what doesn’t fit in the other. “reo treated you so badly, poor baby,” you mewl sweetly, kitten licking at his pulse point just below his neck. “you work so hard, you deserve so much better. you deserve me.” 

he believes you, blindly and naively. nodding tenderly despite the way he widely fucks both of your hands as if they’re a makeshift hole — warm and slick, all for him. dopamine shocks him at the stem of his brain, spreading throughout his body like a wildfire only you can tame — it burns so good and  feels even better to have your dainty, perfectly manicured fingers wrap around his chubby girth so deliciously.

for a moment, you let seishiro go to squeeze at his heavy breeder’s balls — noticing the way they pulsate in your palm to signify the pale blonde’s second impending orgasm. “i think…hah… i think ‘m gonna… c-cum! again!”

pushing at his shirt, you press a kiss to the creamy skin of nagi’s shoulder and hum pridefully. “thank you for letting me know, sweetheart. cum for me. give it to me.”

with your permission granted, another blinding ecstasy takes over nagi, and he falls victim to you and your merciless hands once again. blood rushes through his ears like a storm surge, drowning at your angel coos while you guide him through his high, never letting up as you palm him through it all. he quivers and his knees buckle, shooting a hot and hefty load of seed all over your hand and clothes and the papers nearby.  “o-oh! fuck…” nagi chokes on a weak sob, bleating like an innocent lamb at the slaughter house while he weighed against your shorter frame — allowing you to bare the brunt of his weight and height. 

he’s so pretty when he cums, silvering blonde locks matted to his forehead by sweat — cheeks pink and lips swollen and red. if you could, you’d swallow him whole and selfishly devour your student for all that he has to offer. silly little blonde, stupid for trusting you, for wanting to fuck you.

your hand doesn’t slow around his pulsing cock but instead speeds up, digging your thumb into his oozing slit as arousal pearls at its centre once more. “n-no, s’too much.” seishiro cries quietly, tears stinging a pathway down the apples of his milky cheeks. “it hurts.” 

“poor you, poor baby.” you say harshly, mocking the poor blonde’s sniffles and hiccups. he’s exhausted and frustrated but doesn’t dare to pull away — his hips running after your hand hungrily. “you’re so cute sei, panting for me like a bitch in heat, fucking my hand like the dumb little blonde you are.” he hisses at the overstimulation, gargles on spit as it floods his mouth to accompany his appetite for you. 

“i’m not…ngh… ‘m not dumb.” he whinges in response and before either of you know it, seishiro is cumming again. hard. soiling his lap with abundant amounts of white. his chest heaves as he comes down, collapsing against you. he might deny it later, but being dumbed down and reduced to a stupid blonde seemed to really do it for him. 

finding his lips again, you soothe nagi with short and sweet kisses that grow more feverish by his own demand. all of a sudden you find yourself pinned to the desk below with the tall blonde between your instinctually parted legs so that he can grind against your panty clad core. “you’re…you’re right,” you say, breathing deep through your nose as your composure threatens to fall apart. “you’re so smart, sei. you’re the best lawyer on our team but…” bucking your hips once, you lower your voice by an octave so that your words slip through his ears like molten chocolate. “you’re acting like a dumb slut right now. don’t you wanna be my dumb slut, sei?”

his palm flattens against the mahogany desk just above your head, caging you in against its cold surface. “y-yes i do, oh fuck. please lemme fuck you. lemme be inside. i’ll be good.” 

“are you sure, baby?” 

“please—“ 

“but sei,” you brush a stray hair that curls at the centre of his forehead, the dumb blonde looking down at you with swimming grey eyes because he’s so needy. “it’d be your first time…” 

his face scrunches, nose crinkled at its bridge and brows knitted together in frustration. now that nagi’s had a taste of your sinful elixir he can’t seem to stop, you’re like a drug an addict can’t quit. something that could ruin his life or future prospects if he doesn’t get help. and yet he can’t look away, can’t pull his body away from yours and his achy dick from between your thighs — instead leaning closer so that it sinks between your plush pussy lips. 

nagi licks his lips, tongue rolling over his bottom one as he pants desperately. “please angel,” comes his broken beg, hanging pathetically in the sex tainted hair. “i need you. need it so bad. please please please— mph—!”

satisfied with his begging, you shove a set of cum soaked digits past the swell of seishiro’s pretty lips — chuckling darkly as his tongue laps over and in between them, and he whines at the salty taste of his arousal on your skin. “atta boy,” you coo, thrusting deep into the hot cavern of his mouth until the pale blonde gags around you, swallowing your fingers down like they’re a cock. he sucks so obediently, so desperately as if to please. like a good student too — and all the while, you work on kicking off your panties and flipping up your skirt so that he can get a nice rewarding view of your glistening cunt. 

“c’mere,” you reach out to the blonde and he leans into you, letting you wrap an arm around his shoulders to keep him in place. “sei,” you gasp at the first contact of his thick, long shaft against your throbbing wet mound — mouth agape as if you’ve taken a gunshot wound to the chest. “do you know how to do this, smart boy? do you know how to fuck?”

nagi nods, pressing his forehead to yours while his hips jut forward on their own and his seedy tip brushes against your pearling clit so deliciously. at first, his movements are lax and the room is filled with the lewd squelches of your sexes moving over one another, but your breathing soon grows ragged and the salacious bump and grind becomes stickier and wetter. 

“u-uhuh.” he mumbles in response.

he’s so good for you even when his mouth is full and his mind is dazed, sucking on your fingers while he lets you overwhelm him. however, the blonde is only so well behaved and patient, and it’s not long before he slips his girth past the tight ring of your entrance without any warning. his fingertips dance up to your waist, grabbing at the fat there and using it as leverage to drag you to the edge of the table so he can sink into you further.

“oh…fucking hell!” you whimper wetly against the junction of nagi’s neck, nails digging into his shoulders to steady yourself while he sets the pace to your sinful dance. he’s bigger than what you expected (despite mapping his girth out with your hands), stretching your sloppy walls wide to accommodate for his size. you don’t complain, however, eyes rolling as he brushes up against pleasure spots you could never reach on your own. “o-oh baby, fuck me.” 

you pull your fingers out of his mouth with a lewd pop, desperate to hear the symphony of his sweet, low and sexy moans instead of having them muffled by your fingers while he fucks you for the first time. the pale blonde can hardly believe it — having your warmth wrapped around him and your cunt drool down on him like a waterfall. 

the law student throws his weight into fucking you, bullying his way into the deepest parts of your womb to slothfully fuck up your gooey insides. your cunt, your moans, your whole body has some kind of control over nagi — dumbing him down and reducing him to a sex crazed mess. to the point where he can’t even remember his ex’s name. he’s a mop of pale blonde hair and sweaty clothes, entirely hunched over you. 

“y-you’re so tight,” he tells you in a dreamy sigh, lost in the heat of your core. nagi’s grabs at your pudgy thighs and drags you back and forth onto his dick, the new deepness to his thrusts causing you to squeeze and froth around the fat base of nagi’s cock. “hah, feels so…so good.” 

wrapping your shaky legs around his slender waist, you offer up the same treatment to nagi — pulling him close to the point where he’s buried in your sluice sex right up to the hilt. his precum smears against your ribbed walls and his broken whimper echoes around your hotel room. “that’s it, fuck me like you fucked my hand, sweet boy.” lust sparks against your sex slicked bodies, your breasts bouncing with every one of nagi’s calculated yet sloppy thrusts. you can’t get enough of one another, clinging and clawing at one another’s bodies madly. “you can do it, prove to reo that you don’t need him. only me.” 

“o-only you.” nagi repeats weakly, tucking his face into your neck as he pounds you to the high heavens. the desk creaks beneath the force of his thrusts, threatening to break at the nails and bolts that hold it together. his eyelashes flutter against your skin, his low and deep moans mixed with high pitched gasps send a hot rush of dopamine across your brain and it really is all too much. 

nagi’s already cum three times and managed to fold you in half over his desk as a virgin. he feel as though he might break with how much he loves this, loves fucking you senseless. another fresh set of tears burn tracks down his face and gather in his unfairly long lashes as they tickle your skin. he hiccups and heaves against you, whilst his breathing grows ragged every time his glistening cock escapes the snugness of your tight pussy, precum stringing along your puffy folds. 

“so good baby, s-so fucking good!” your voice is broken and husky as you praise him, making his dick pulse against your g-spot over and over again. you’re fairing no better than he is, your skin blistering hot to the touch and bruised from how tight your student is gripping you — pulling you back onto his cock.

the pale blonde feels though he might burst, cream your insides like he did your hand and ruin that pretty skirt of yours — the one that sticks to his pelvis because of how close your bodies are. it’s rubbed him raw while he fucks you raw. “‘m i the best?” seishiro asks, cherishing the embrace of your viscous walls, his shaft coated in a crude mix of white as it froths from your tight little hole. “t-tell me i’m the best…” 

“t-the best i’ve ever had! f-fuck, sei!” you squeal in response, only egging the law student on, babbling your praises while fat droplets of your arousal flies about the place — painting nagi’s pelvis in a shiny gloss, curling in his white happy trail as well. 

“‘m the best. i’m the best for you.” grunting from the exertion and the very force of his own thrusts, seishiro wraps both of his strong arms around your middle and stands up from the table — taking you with him. at the new angle, the coil in your stomach only tightens and you fling your arms around his neck to prepare yourself for what’s to come next. “s’not enough, not deep enough. fuuuck you’re so wet and warm. i-i can’t,” he drawls lowly, nipping at the shell of your ear on instinct. 

that’s when seishiro begins to use his sheer strength to lift and drop you back onto his thick girth, fucking up into you at the exact same time. “g-good god!” you cry out, your impending orgasm prickling at your pelvis — shooting down each section of your spine. all of it only serves to spur nagi on. 

“give me your fingers,” he demands huskily, cantering into you from bellow — your juices running a steamy track down his heavy balls as they harshly smack against your peachy ass. “wan’ suck on ‘em. give ‘em.”

you don’t have time to register his ask because he grabs your wrist before your mind can even catch up (too occupied with the way he’s churning up your guts) and has two of your fingers in his eager little mouth — sucking on them diligently. you shudder as nagi runs his tongue between them, coats them in spit and drool that tracks across his chin once he’s done with them. 

“touch yourself for me?” he pleads through a wet whine, almost too innocently. “wanna see you cum this time.” 

it’s only then that you realise he’s been holding himself back, staving off his orgasm so he can see you writhe and gush all for him. the overstimulation must be burning at his brain, sizzling off his nerve endings and it’s probably more than the dumb little blonde virgin can take. so you do as he asks, trailing your spit slicked fingers between your bodies as they grind down on one another and you with your sensitive clit, pulling its hood back to draw tight circles over the pleasure nub. 

“o-oh! seishiro!” 

“that’s right, touch yourself f’me. wanna see you lose it like you make me lose it,” he moans softly constraining with how rough nagi pounds up into you. one of his hands slips from your hips to grope at your ass, pushing you down on him and forcing his cock to grind against that one special spot threatening to make you break. “‘m sorry,” he whimpers as though he’s going to cry. “d-don’t think i can hold back, angel.” 

“then don’t,” you gasp at the new friction, holding onto your last strings of sanity as you fumble with your clit tucked away between your ravaged folds. “i know you wanna cum for me, sei. l-let go, yeah? wanna see you break for me, like a good blonde slut.” 

your encouragement doesn’t give seishiro much choice, and while he’s in control of your bodies — his lean, strong frame anchoring you down onto his cock as it bullies your insides, you are in control of his mind. you destroy his train of thought, ruin the self-made man he was and send him tumbling into his final high. nagi’s orgasm breaks the surface viciously, pouring another load of his cum against your ripe and rippling walls. there’s still so much of it, the warm and viscous white seeping from your cunt and smearing all over your hot mound. 

the force of nagi’s high is so strong that he nearly drops you, just about managing to pin you safely to the desk once more. he’s still cumming and cumming and cumming — but that doesn’t stop him from thrusting into you hard and fast, desperate to trigger your orgasm so he can reward himself. it doesn’t take long, he’d already had you seated on the edge before his mind had shattered to pieces just from fucking you. 

you gush down his length and all over what remains of your shitty case notes (he probably didn’t need them anyways) with a pornographic shout when you finally hit your peak. it’s like the crescendo of a beautiful song — the world around you spinning and flashing white as you squirt and gush for the white haired lawyer. 

“f-fuck.” you giggle with a soft smile, fatigue washing over the both of you come down from the gates of heaven — crashing back down to earth with ecstasy still buzzing in your veins. “good boy, sei. you did so good for me,” you hum softly. “do you feel any better?” 

seishiro looks up at you from where his heavy frame has collapsed on your chest — clothes sweaty and askew, and offers you a lazy grin in return. “better,” he mumbles meekly and kisses a slither of your exposed skin, still grinding his seed into you as if to make sure it sticks. “thank you.” 

bringing a hand up to toy with his hair and soothing him, you nod. “good, we should get some rest, you’ve got a big trial tomorrow, pretty boy.” 

“do you think I can do it?” 

“i know you can, sei.” you scratch at his scalp. “i meant it. what i said earlier. you’re the best lawyer on our team. shidou’s defence stands a pretty good chance.” 

nagi grins once more, only this time he leans up to press a chaste kiss to your unexpecting mouth — pouring all of his gratefulness into it. 

because thanks to you, he feels more confident about the trial, — almost as if he’s won the trial already. and even if nagi goes lose, at least he’s won you over.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#୨୧ KINKTOBER 23’ #blue lock x reader #nagi smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #blue lock smut #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro smut #nagi x you #nagi seishiro x you #seishiro nagi smut #bllk thirst #blue lock thirst #blue lock imagines #blue lock x you #bllk imagines #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #angelshubnetwork

[almalvo]

About An Official Spiderverse Artist...

Please do not just scroll past this post; read it.

If you guys follow me on twitter, you probably already know.

But if you dont or still want to read this anyway - here you go:

I aint big, but I got a growing platform that I see as important for me to use as a force for things that matter.

So here I am.

And I got something to say about a certain "artist".

There are so many fucked up people who call themselves artists who are so heavily worshipped by us who both get and or dont get outed in the world for things they do and for their general piss-poor behaviours and persons.

Im here to talk about one in particular (and certainly wont be the last).

There is an artist that basically EVERYONE here has seen art from before, printed in the official Sony artbooks too.

If you have seen this:

Then you have seen this artist before.

His name is Alberto Mielgo. He goes by @/pinkman_himself on twitter.

He is a HUGE part of the art direction and stylisation of the spiderverse movies, if that isnt already obvious. Because he was the former original art director of Into The Spiderverse.

Yes. Former.

Cuz he got "mYsTeRiOuSlY fiReD" from Sony 2 years into pre-production and completely removed from the project.

You may have also seen this character before:

Yes. THAT asian character from Netflix's Love Death + Robots, from the episode "The Witness".

Familiar? Yeah. Because this episode was also made by the same guy, Mielgo.

I aint going to talk about what happens in that episode and hesitate to encourage anyone to watch it - cuz all it basically is is a megalo-misogynistic, assault "glorified for the sake of aRtT", racially fetishised showcase of this crazy makeup/haired bdsm stereotyped asian girl sex worker who essentially gets murdered over and over and over after running for her life completely naked through the city for all of us to see for some fucking reason.

BUt yeah anyways, you can see it in the first pic, but Ill put it here to show more clearly - this here is NOT the character from LDR. But I can understand why you might think so:

Yeah. You read that name in the bottom right corner correctly. This is Peni Parker. His concept art of Peni Parker. A 13 YEAR OLD CHILD. Lookin suspiciously like and dressed as the adult person from LDR with ALSO the crazy hair, make up - WITH AN O-RING CHOKER AND BALL-GAG LIPSTICK (BDSM).

13. year. old. child.

This man only sees east asian women this way.

He likes them crazy, sexy, broken--

and young.

Cuz this man also wrote this on a now-deleted post on his website:

Yeah. He, this whole ass middle-aged white cishet male spaniard thirstin for kids since he was 18 for 12 year old girls.

Cuz 12 year old girls are a fuckin "KNOCK OUT" when they grow up, when they ripen up into adulthood, to this man Alberto Mielgo, aka @/pinkman_himself, this creature.

And if auctioning NFTs isnt bad enough (cuz yes, ofc he does that too - its literally the first option on his website) -

His entire fucking portfolio is of drawing women he had sex with.

His fucking PROFESSIONAL PORTFOLIO is all of painting and drawing women in very compromising, questionable ways of the VERY SAME WOMEN HE HAD SLEPT WITH THROUGH HIS LIFE.

They look as creepy as they are.

But the scariest part?

While I myself had only just found out about this some days ago as of writing this, some of us have known about this man and his antics for years.

And he keeps getting greenlit by the industry, over and over and over; winning awards, getting respected, praised, admired, even by fellow at-home artists like many of you out there if you dont already do so.

And nothing will happen to him cuz he is a white cishet male artist who has money and a following and connections and influence and power.

So yeah.

I just wanted to talk about a certain official Spiderverse artist to just let yall know there are freaks everywhere, and that no matter how small it is, it's people like me and you who need to do what we can to keep up awareness and warn our communities and protect our most vulnerable.

My suggestion is to take heed of what I said, ask questions about everything you will ever see again from anyone around you, no less the industry, THINK for once, and actually give a fuck.

Keep away.

Do not support this man.

But the decision is ultimately yours.

Stay awake, yall.

-------

(His face, publicly available as his imdb profile):

scary.

#have your truth but do not go harass this guy #jodido pedazo de mierda. #alberto mielgo #reblog to spread the word #likes dont do a lot #stay awake. #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanart #into the spider verse #ATSV #ITSV #spiderman #spiderverse #concept art #art #psa #artists to block #marvel #sony #animation #pinkman_himself #love death and robots #netflix #im fucking tired of this shit. #dont miss this man for his artstyle - just take his artstyle for yourself and make it your own. #if you are a decent human being #you are already leagues better than this shite could ever be. #just take his technique and make it better by making it your own. thats it. #we wont miss you mielgo. #bai.

[cordeliawhohung]

Hey, hi, hello!

So hear me out...

Pornstar! Gaz who's director decides it's the reader's turn to top Gaz because that's what the porn industry has been turning towards. Gaz is a little skeptical because how can his sweet girl do anything but be pliant for him? But he goes along with it anyways.

Flash forward and his body is shaking, eyes rolled back as he desperately fists the sheets until his knuckles turn pale. Reader is a better top than he thought she would be! Poor boyo is so overstimulated that he's a whimpering, crying mess and reader is just riding him without a care in the world, maybe thinking about giving him a lil prostate torture while she's at it. <3

Anyways, that's all I have. Good day.

ps!gaz masterlist [unedited because i'm tired just enjoy the horny thots]

"Beg."

All Kyle sees when his pretty brown eyes flutter open is your grin. Usually he thinks your smile is cute, but right now the only word that pops into his mind when he sees it is devilish. He would hate to admit that he underestimated your abilities when the director said you were supposed to be dominant that day, but he certainly never expected this.

Your sweet cunt sucked him in the moment you lowered yourself onto him, and you refused to let him do any of the work. Pawing his hands away from you like he was nothing more than an annoying cat, you bounced on his cock like you owned it. Owned him. Fuck, you brought him so close to heaven that he had completely forgotten the two of you were filming until he saw someone shuffling in the corner of his eye.

But now, as he lays there and stares up at you, his mind is blank. Up until now, you hadn't really spoken much. Just took the lead and rendered him a writhing, sweaty mess underneath you. It didn't help that you had stopped right as he felt he was about to come. It renders his brain completely fried. His brows pinch together as he attempts to catch his breath.

"Huh?" he pants.

Your grin only grows wider at his cute confusion, and you slowly roll your hips back and forth. It's a painful dance, the way your walls clench around him. It only leaves him wanting more, and yet instead of asking, the only thing his body is capable of giving you is a strained groan and his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

"I said beg," you repeat.

It's clear with his heaving chest and fluttering eyes that Kyle's completely useless. You've never seen him so fucked out before, and it's a masterpiece that you know you won't forget anytime soon. Still, the film is running, so you take your hands and gently slide up along his feverish skin. Goosebumps rise along his chest in wake of your fingers as your hands cup either side of his head, forcing his full attention on you (as if he could put it anywhere else).

"Do you think I let just anyone come in this pussy?" you ask. You lean forward to press a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth before nuzzling your nose into his cheek. "No, only good boys get to do that. And do you know what good boys do? They beg."

Kyle's mind finally makes sense of what you're asking of him, and you feel his cock twitch inside of you as he groans. Every muscle in his body contracts as he attempts to hold himself back, to keep himself from seeming pathetic, but you've brought him so close to the edge, tortured him for so long he's not sure he cares anymore.

"Please, doll," he says in a whisper. Your lips are so close together that you can almost feel the way the words form on his mouth.

"Can't hear you," you goad.

"Please," he tries again. "Fuck, thank you f-for makin' me feel so good. I just- please, I need more. Just a little more, please doll, I'll be good I swear- fuck."

Your chuckling cuts him off as you push yourself back. The view of the muscles tensing in his neck as he looks at you through heavy lids is nearly enough to make you fold.

"Look at you," you croon. "So lovely for me, aren't you?"

There's no time for him to respond before you're back to riding him, hips slamming against his with such fervor it steals his breath away. Kyle's head wrenches back into the mattress as his fingers nearly tear holes in the sheets. The only thing he can mutter between breaths is the phrase thank you over and over and over again.

"Good boy."

#pornstar!gaz #gaz x reader #gaz x reader smut #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader smut #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz smut #kyle garrick smut #f!reader

[lizardsfromspace]

The backlash to the snub of Margot Robbie and Greta Gerwig (for directing) at the Oscars is bizarre for a lot of reasons, but one of them is that they're going with a "the Academy hates women directors!" narrative even though there is a female nominee for best director this year, Justine Triet.

But this one quote is just. Jokerfying

...Margot Robbie was kept out of Best Actress by Annette Benning's nod for Nyad. That's the one everyone hates and thinks is undeserving, too. But instead the stakes being Barbie Is Feminism And If It Loses Feminism Loses means you have to dismiss a film written & directed by a woman, and single out...Lily Gladstone? She's insulting a film about a real survivor of real Native American genocide to burnish Barbie. She's not only insulting actresses and female filmmakers in the name of feminism, and attacking sex workers, she's dismissing the stories of real women too

And, again: Poor Things, Killers of the Flower Moon, and Anatomy of a Fall didn't keep Barbie out of Best Actress! That was Nyad! But that doesn't fit her narrative about how the Oscars only like it when women ~suffer~ so she has to bash *checks notes* the first ever Native American nominated for Best Actress instead

(To be fair I checked the article; she doesn't mention Nyad once; it doesn't mention Justine Triet once, either)

I mean the Academy did give it eight nominations. America Ferrera, Ryan Gosling, adapted screenplay and Best Picture. The Academy obviously considered it important. Ferrera's nom is likely entirely down to the monologue scene, too, so it's not like they're mad about that.

(actually a lot of people are going "hohoho, didn't it just prove the movie's point that they only nominated Gosling?" like. They very much did nominate America Ferrera, can they like. Read)

And her case doesn't make the slightest bit of sense bc, again, the surprise nom that deprived Robbie of a Best Actress nom wasn't a dark movie about feminine suffering, it was a Netflix sports biopic

#film #movies #oscars #long post

[hanasnx]

Indy! What kinks do you think Bruce would have ?

bruce wayne's kinks.

MINORS DNI 18+

! ── bondage + gags: it's a classic. tying you up and taking control from you is a huge turn on for him. if you have his complete trust, which rare ever do, you'll be able to do the same to him. unfortunately, those pretty silken ropes end up getting worn through way too quick, so you've upgraded to chains so you can ride him like a stallion. however, your headboard creaks a little more each time. when a 200+ man of pure muscle yanks on wood it splinters.

! ── edging + overstimulation + dacryphilia

! ── exhibitionism: part of his bruce wayne persona means public displays of affection are required. however, he enjoys it. getting his hands all over you where anyone could see means he elicits that cute reaction out of you where you hit him and scold him all the while his teeth are on your neck and he's groping you through your dress. the thrill of removing just enough to make sure he can get inside you makes him rip his belt open with fervor, and he's always a fan of a quickie. it's a stress reliever.

! ── breathplay: he's calculative when it comes to breathplay, but more specifically he loves putting his hand around your throat.

! ── size: he's an avid supporter. he thinks it's hot when you get all sheepish being reminded of how big and strong he is. he's got a powerful body he works day and night for, the least you can do is appreciate its every inch.

! ── food play: ever since strippers jumped out of his birthday cake in his twenties covered in frosting and edible bits that he was allowed to lick off he's had a thing for food play. at one point you feel like he's eaten entire meals off of you, he's completely nondiscriminatory when it comes to what he can lick and mouth as long as it's on you. if he's on a cheat day, he lets a scoop of ice cream melt on your skin just so he can clean you himself and watch your poor nipples pebble from the cold.

! ── impact play: chronic ass-smacker, tit-smacker less so, face-smacker even less.

! ── old school panty snatcher: if you put a pair of your used panties in his suit pocket before he goes to work he will play with it all day. stick his hand in there to meddle with the fabric between his fingers while he's talking to his board of directors with the presentation he's been preparing. he gets into the habit of inviting himself to your undergarments, and has been caught multiple times using one of your favorite pairs to jack himself off.

! ── bareback + creampies: condoms are fine he's not an idiot, but there's something about going in raw that draws him in. the extra edge of danger and the intimacy of touching the deepest parts of you bare.

! ── thigh riding: clasping your hands in his for balance while he watches you get off on his thigh. tells you it's like a personal show. he keeps those eyes trained on you with such an entertained grin it makes you whine in frustration, and that's hot too.

! ── threesomes/foursomes: he's done it all. having multiple partners is a testament to his endurance and he loves the praise, but since he's been official with you there is no room for that sort of thing and that's fine with him.

! ── light roleplay: you two have been known to throw the word "batman" around the bedroom.

! ── praise mostly very rarely a degrader

! ── daddy: as far as he's concerned, that's one of his names when it comes to you. in any context you call him that, he swells with pride. one time you visit him while he's in a meeting, not only did you turn every head in the room but when you called him "daddy" accidentally and out of pure habit, he didn't skip a beat. he glances at his companions with a knowing glint in his eye because they should be jealous that the girl they're gonna be thinking about for the rest of the day just called him daddy. he's got no shame about it.

#indy: headcanons #ch: bruce #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne headcanons #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne fanfic #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne hc #bruce wayne hcs #bruce wayne headcanon #batman smut #batman x reader #tw daddy kink #reader insert

[popamolly]

I HAVE A REQ FOR VAL

reader will be a one of the employees who works the cameras at the studio, the rumor that she has a huge crush on val gets out and he confronts her.. in the end having a few drinks which loosens her up and makes her confess how much she wants him and val shows her the time of her life 🤗🤗 (bonus points for overstim and degrading/ praise)

៸៸ ﹟CUT THE CAMERAS!

pairing. valentino x fem!reader

warnings. valentino exists, valentino x fem!employee!reader, smut, oneshot, rough sex, degradation/praise (best of both worlds), overstimulation, reader is a bit tipsy, vouyerism (?), Valentino doesn’t get to cum >:)

author’s note. thank you for the idea anon! this is kinda long because i got carried away but i hope you enjoy <3 (I also want to note that i do not condone Valentine’s actions toward Angel in the show) and as always, request are open!

𖤐 MASTERLIST

“Oh no! I’m a bad boy and I need a real hunk daddy to put me in my place!” Angel acted out the script well, his voice clearly blurring the lines of authenticity as you focused the camera on him and the four large demons that surrounded him. The demons were definitely jocks on Earth because they towered over Angel with ease, their swollen cocks in hand dripping with precum, ready to snap the poor spider like a twig, “Yes, daddy! Stuff me full of your cock!”

All you could think about was how lucky you were to be on the opposite side of the camera. You couldn’t even imagine taking someone or something as large as a forearm, not even to mention the girth— and there was four of them. Angel Dust truly was a wonder and you commended him for his bravery. Little did you know that he was under a contract that practically forced him to do the things he was doing. Did he want to be a pornstar? Not really. Did he want to be a druggie? Who’s to say. Hell was definitely that, Hell.

You focused on your job with a sigh. Which was to work your camera to get all the right angles, preferably with Angel’s fucked out face or holes in the shot. The workers behind the camera wouldn’t dare move from their post on set. Everyone was in their respective roles under Valentino’s watchful gaze.

‘Valentino,’ Just his name in your thoughts had your heart beat quickening. Everything about him was so alluring that you couldn’t help but be intrigued by him. You glanced over in his direction which was across the set from you, giving you a good view of the man you’ve had a crush on since the moment you got this job. He sat tall in his directors chair, right leg crossed over his left elegantly to expose his fish net tights and smooth toned legs. The sight alone could make you drool and he wasn’t doing anything else than just sitting there, ‘Fuck, he is so hot’.

But your thoughts were only just that, thoughts. A silly crush that you told yourself you would grow out of eventually.

You blinked out of your thoughts suddenly at the sound of Angel’s pleasurable scream of ecstasy. After a few more cheesy lines exchanged from the script the scene was officially over.

“And scene! Good job everyone, wrap it up!” Your manager claps before walking Valentino over to my camera to look at the still shots I took and a preview of the video. The lights in the studio came on just as the pair came to stand next to you. Your manager nearly shoves you to the side to take credit of the knowledge of videography like you weren’t just the one that stood behind the camera for hours. If anything you should be the one showcasing your work to Valentino and present him all the best stills you took during the scene— it was your work after all. But atlas you were nothing more than a lowly employee that can’t even draw the attention of the Boss.

“We will delete these as the light is a bit off and to the left, not really highlighting Angel,” Your manager clicked an arrow to scroll through the picture, “Whoever was on light duty needs to be fired.”

“Just trash the ones we can’t use,” Valentino lets out a puff of pink smoke in annoyance, “I only want the best shots of Angel.”

You looked toward the screen, speaking before actually thinking, “Well if you adjust the lighting and contrast on the photos it should be salvageable.”

“Excuse me?” Your manager glares at you, “You aren’t a professional. Your job is to hold a camera, that is it—!”

Valentino covers your managers mouth with one of his four hands before tilting his head at you in curiosity, “You can fix the photos, darling?”

You nearly jump out of your skin with excitement. Valentino was talking to you— actually talking to you and looking in your direction. All you could do was nod at his question before turning toward the computer that was next to the camera, fixing the problem in less than five minutes and presenting the stills to Valentino in anticipation.

Valentino looks them over with a grin, “Perfect, caro. You just potentially saved me thousands of dollars.” Now that he was standing in front you the tall moth man had a chance to take a good look at you. A wicked smile on his face as he had countless of thoughts in his head on just how he could use that perfect body of yours. Something about you had him twitching in want and it wasn’t like Valentino ignore his urges.

Valentino outstretched his arm to extend his body down to be able to take your hand in one of his, his lips brushing against your knuckles gently in a sweet affectionate kiss that had you swooning, “Follow me to my office? I wish to discuss something with you.”

“Oh—I—Um—Okay!” You agreed, stumbling over your words as you tried to ignore the feeling of your manager burning a hole into your head. Without complaint you follow Valentino up some steps and into his large office that just so happened to have a king size bed conveniently placed in the middle of the room, “Did I do something wrong, Valentino?”

“Nonsense! Quite the opposite,” Valentino gestures you to sit on one of his gaudy plush animal print chairs as he walks over to his alcohol table to pour you and himself a drink, “You captured my attention for the time being, how lucky for you, principessa.”

“I-I guess so,“ You gladly take the wine glass Valentino offers you, gliding your fingertips along the rim nervously. Your heart was pounding so much you felt as if it would burst out your chest. Now that you were prey under his gaze you felt as though he would pounce on you at any moment. And the crazy part was that you’d let him. You would let him do every dirty deed to you in the book if he wanted.

To calm your nerves you quickly downed your first glass of wine before letting Valentino offer you another glass. And then another. It wasn’t long before your head was spinning slightly from the buzz the alcohol gave you due to your lightweight nature. It for sure made this interaction easier and even loosened your tongue.

“Can I be honest with you?” You at least still had a clear mind to confess what has been on your mind for weeks now. It was now or never right? “I secretly hoped for this… for you to notice me.”

“Oh?” Valentino raised his eyebrow teasingly, “How naughty of you.”

“Naughty or not..” You sat on the edge of your chair, your knees brushing up against his, “You’re an inspiration Val, truly. I admire you and the work that you do.”

Valentino smiles wide, his gold tooth shining in the light, before taking a small sip of his wine before setting down the glass on a side table. You were giving him such an ego boost that he was starting to like you more and more.

“(Y/N), was it? What a pretty name,” Valentino wasn’t fooled by your innocent persona. If anything, he knew you were the exact opposite. He never breathed down any of his employees necks but he always did an intense research on them and of course nothing happened on his side of Pride Ring without him knowing. Every conversation you had with your fellow coworkers was something he heard about verbatim. This little crush you had on him was flattering to say the least and Valentino wanted to see how far you would take your feelings for him, “Have you ever thought about being in front of the camera instead of behind it? I could make you a star, sweetheart.”

That being said he was good at reading people, and it was quite clear that you were shrinking under his gaze. But it wasn’t from fear— no, it was from something more sensual. Valentino couldn’t help but smirk at you and think how turned on you were and how you did such a terrible job of hiding it.

“Really?” You looked up to meet Valentino’s gaze with such hopeful and naive eyes that your boss felt his cock twitch, “I’m not very photogenic…”

“Oh mio caro, that is an easy fix,” Valentino brought his finger under your glass to slowly tip it up, forcing you to finish your drink down to the last drop. Once you were finished he delicately takes the glass from your hands and sets it aside, “All you have to do it just find a perfect angle that suits you just right.”

With your mind slightly a buzz, you lookedup at Valentino’s looming figure with a soft look, “Valentino—”

“Show me, darling.” Valentino clicks his tongue, fluffing the fur around his neck collar as his heart shaped glasses fell to the bridge of his nose, “Show me how you touch yourself and I promise to find that perfect angle for you.��

With that you are gently pushed down onto the bed, Valentino’s soft hands gliding along your inner thigh before spreading your legs apart, which in turn raises your skirt you were wearing to your waist. A pleased hum falling from his lips as he noticed your pink colored thong you were wearing that had a wet patch beginning to form right in the middle.

“I-I have never..don’t this before,” You admit, “In front of a camera I mean.”

“Oh my darling, there will be no camera, just us.” Valentino took a long drag from his cigarette, “I can find your perfect angle through my eyes alone. Now..show me.”

You got comfortable on the bed, trying to relax your mind and invision yourself in the comfort of your own home. You felt so small under Valentino’s gaze and it caused nothing but a pleasurable shiver to go down your spine as you removed your panties which Valentino was quick to take from your hands so he could sniff them with a deep inhale.

“So obedient,” Valentino smirks at the whimpers that left your lips, eyes fixed on the way your fingers messily rubbed over your clit, “Aren’t you, principessa?”

You nod wordlessly, so caught up in chasing your orgasm, you didn’t even notice Valentino sauntering closer to you. Your fingers began to move faster and faster before they’re pulled away from you suddenly, a whine leaving your lips from your denied orgasm. “You’ll cum when I say slut,” Valentino orders, his fingers rubbing through your soaked pussy at an agonizingly slow pace. You gasp, hips rising for more contact.

“Patience, darling, is a virtue.” You bit down on your bottom lip at Valentino’s words, “You’re so wet for me, i just want to make a mess of you.”

A light moan leaves your lips when you feel the tips of his fingers dip into your needy cunt. You don’t even get a chance to respond before his lips are pressed roughly onto yours, his tongue instantly invading your mouth, your moans now muffled as his fingers continued to skillfully move against your aching pussy. Valentino bites your lip, tugging on the flesh before plunging his fingers back into you, your back arching off the bed at the pleasure.

“V-Valentino! F-Fuck..!”

“Such a good girl for being so patient,” His praises only turn you on even more, if all was possible. “A dirty, fucking girl who wants nothing more than to cum, hm? i feel you tightening around my fingers mio caro.” Valentino is amused by the way your pussy sucks his fingers in with every thrust, “Oh you have such a pretty pussy.”

You whine from the way his thumb ghosts over your clit, “P-Please!”

“Please what, darling? Use that pretty voice of yours hm?”

“P-Please…can I cum?”

Valentino chuckles darkly, thumb rubbing your clit roughly as his fingers continue to pump in and out of you in a fast pace, “Cum for me slut.” You clench your eyes shut from the pleasure, loud, sultry moans leaving your lips with each pump of his fingers. You feel the knot in your stomach begin to tighten, your walls clenching around his digits desperately.

“Ah—! Fuck!” You’re too caught up in finally catching your orgasm. That intense wave crashing over you, leaving your fluttering hole clenching around Valentino’s slender fingers as he continued to pistol them in and out of you at fast pace so you could ride out your mindboggling orgasm.

“There it is! Good fucking girl,” Valentino positions himself between your legs, placing hot kisses onto your neck as your body continues to writhe beneath him, your back arches from the feeling of his tip rubbing between your sensitive folds, a whimper falling from your lips from the overstimulation you felt, “Oh I am not finished with you yet.”

“W-wait! Val—!” You nearly cry out when he pushes himself into you roughly.

“Shhhh,” Valentino’s fingers curl around your throat, his mouth lowering to your ear as his other two hands pin your legs to your chest, putting you in a deep folding press that allowed him to go impossibly deeper, “You’re doing so well for me, sweetheart. Look how this slutty hole takes my cock with ease.”

His thrusts start off slow and deep, each thrust nearing you to yet another orgasm. Everything about him was starting to become addicting. You wanted it all, his touch, his breath, his tongue— you wanted him to use you like his own personal fuck toy. You try to move your hips to match his thrusts, only for his grip to tighten around your throat, a low growl leaving his lips.

“You’re a natural at this, aren’t you dear? You want to get fucked like a slut that bad huh?” Tears began to escape your eyes as Valentino begins to pick up the pace, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix with every thrust. The overstimulation was too much and you couldn’t help but cry from the overwhelming pleasure, “Look at you, such a perfect whore for me.”

You wrap your hands around his wrist to leverage yourself, his grip around your throat nearly sending you over the edge. You felt the sudden desperate need to cum again and you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

Valentino groans from the feeling of your cunt clenching around his dick sporadically, “You going to cum again for me, mio caro? Fucking do it.” He licks his lips at the sight of your tear stained face contorted with pleasure, bringing down his free hand to circle around your clit roughly, your loud moans bouncing off the walls of the dimly lit room, “Do it, slut.”

You release the moment the words left his mouth, Valentino’s thrust coming to a halt as his fingers continue to make a mess of your clit, the clear liquid squirting all over your legs and his pelvis.

Fuck, did he love this. You were falling right into his hands like a moth to a flame and he planned on using that against you. Your naivety and love for him was going to be your downfall and he would be right there with sweet words to guide your hand into signing your soul to him. You would be another star in the making, another flower ready to bloom under the sparkling light. And Valentino couldn’t wait to use that to his advantage.

“That’s my good little whore,” He didn’t even give you a moment to catch your breath before moving his hips once again, “Now you’re going get that slutty pussy to squirt for me again.”

© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost in any other social media.

#𖤐popamollyposts #𖤐popamolly #hazbin hotel fiction #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel characters #hazbin #hazbin hotel #smut #valentino x reader #valentino x reader hazbin hotel

[eee-lordy]

Make It Up

Jacob comes home from filming to comfort his increasingly insecure girlfriend. 1k

───※ ·❆· ※───

Jacob had been away long enough for you to feel the impact of how alone you really were. Of course, you were glad he was off living his dream. You couldn't have been happier for him, actually.

But Jacob was always good at changing your perspective when he was around. Not that you needed anyone to tell you who to be. But Jacob always knew just what to say. He listened to you, he didn't diminish your feelings, and he was a master at getting you to see your insecurities in a different light, all the while.

But he was gone, and your mind seemed to run a little more frantically each day. As you got ready for work, all the bits about yourself you liked least stared back in the mirror. Nothing you seemed to tell yourself made much of a difference. 

So you just pretended it wasn't happening at all, for a while. When he called, all you focused on how happy he sounded. You let Jacob tell you all about his wonderful time on set and the people he'd gotten to know, your own worries lost as he reminded you of good things.

And when Jacob's film wrapped up, and he and his castmates toured about chatting to press in their Sunday best, you caught bits of one of those interviews on the morning news.

Your boyfriend was absurdly attractive, and he fit right in between equally as pretty actors and directors. You'd usually drool as he lit up the screen, but this time was different. As his castmates all squished together on one big couch you couldn't help but notice how lovely the girl next to Jacob seemed. She had the perfect face, and an even better body and she looked so natural there next to him. Jacob somehow seemed even more handsome when your focus shifted back to his way.

That's who he deserved by his side, you thought. Someone just as beautiful and illuminating as Jacob himself. Not you.

While you went about your week, your insecurity seemed to be bubbling to a boiling point. When Jacob video called, you reached for a sweater before answering, in case any of his beautiful castmates were around to see the poor excuse of a girlfriend he had back home. 

"One more day and we can get back to normal." Jacob sighed, lounging alone in some hotel bed, lily white sheets looking like heaven wrinkled around him.

"Yeah, normal." You shrugged. A glimmer of hope fizzed in your chest at the thought. Your insecurities had never been so intrusive before, so it felt criminal to address them at all. It wasn't Jacob's fault that everyone he worked with was some kind of supermodel. You knew you had to get yourself in check before he got back, tomorrow. Maybe once Jacob was home, he'd distract you from your own thoughts long enough for you to forget them altogether.

That's exactly what you tried to practice as you prepared to see him again. 

When Jacob showed up in the front doorway at long last, the only worry you had was closing the gap between you. He dropped his luggage and lunged in for a kiss. Two Kisses. There, four, five.

"I missed you too." You joked when he pulled away to catch his breath. He laughed before pressing another quick kiss to your cheek and tugging you across the house. His luggage had been abandoned in the entryway as he mentioned something about being utterly exhausted. You followed close behind through the bedroom door, lost in the haze of how giddy you were to have his hand in yours once again.

"I kept dozing off on the plane and dreaming of finally sleeping in my own bed. But I suddenly just want to tell you everything, love." Jacob beamed as you flipped off the bedroom light, leaving a lamp to glow from the corner.

"I won't stop you. I can't wait to hear everything." You assured with a smile. Jacob looked so sleepy, with his droopy dark eyes and slouched shoulders. But his smile was radiant as he went on to tell you some story of the night he and his castmates got kicked out of a bar. 

"We all had such fun. I wish you could've been there, my love." Jacob cooed, crossing the room to start getting ready for bed. He kicked his trousers off toward the hamper as he went on yammering. 

"I absolutely can't wait to take you to all the premier parties and things. I'm dying to show you off."

You'd been circling in search of where you'd left your pj's when you registered what Jacob said. You stopped in your tracks, thanking the heavens that your back was to Jacob as you tried to suppress the sudden wave of insecurity. 

You felt so unimpressive. No, worse. You felt horrid. And all the work you'd done to forget how badly you'd been feeling crumbled as all your self-conscious thoughts bombarded you at once. 

You felt worried to be seen at all, and next to your stone-carved deity of a boyfriend no less. The worst of it was, you knew this was stupid. You knew most of your thinking was skewed, but it didn't stop you from feeling so insecure.

"Babe?" Jacob called from somewhere closer than before. You sucked in a breath, hoping an answer would effortlessly escape afterward. But all you could manage was a frustrated whimper.

"I know it's dumb... but I feel like shit." You explained turning to face Jacob. He had already been looking toward you with a furrowed brow. After you shakily admitted how you'd been feeling, a frown pulled at his lips.

"Huh? You-" He started, shifting a little closer to you. But once you'd given yourself the spotlight, you had to finish explaining yourself before you lost the courage.

"You're like... a fucking statue and you should be out with someone just as beautiful, like one of those pretty little things you fit so well with on the screen. I'm afraid I'm not good enough for you and I'm sorry this is so dumb but-"

"Oh, my love, no. No, listen to me." Jacob took a few steps to meet you in the middle, His deep dark eyes pierced into yours as he tangled both of his hands in your hair.

"You're a vision. You're so beautiful and I want you with me and near me always. I want you." Jacob stressed each word and searched your eyes, and you knew he was sincere. You half expected him to roll his eyes and say something about how sick he was of hearing you complain, like so many of your partners had in the past. But Jacob was different.

"You're too good to me." You spoke, somewhere between feeling genuinely thankful for his abundance of care and feeling completely unworthy of it. 

"You're perfect. Everything about you is exceptional and divine."

Jacob softly gushed all while he took a gentle grasp of your hips to pull you to the bed he walked back towards. As he sat, you settled into his lap without missing a beat, somehow magnetically moving to be close to him. 

"I'm sorry I've been away. I wish I could've spent my days telling you how much I love and adore you. I'm sorry I never say it enough anyway."

"Oh, Jacob." You cooed, searching his starry eyes. "I'm sorry I'm so difficult." You felt moved to sweep up your dramatics. 

"You're not difficult. I happen to find you very easy to adore." Jacob's fingers trailed slowly up your sides while his eyes stayed happily glued on yours. He was so brilliant at making sure you felt comfortable. Content. Wanted.

"Now you're just being ridiculous." You mewled, resting your forehead against his. He couldn't possibly be so full of compliments. He must have just been trying to calm you down.

"It's true my love. You're stunning. Remember that outfit you wore to last year's family Christmas? We were late to the party because I simply couldn't handle how good you looked that night. Nearly had a heart attack. Really! Your beauty takes my breath away to the point of medical emergencies I swear it."

Okay, so maybe Jacob was just as dramatic as you.

"I wore it cause it covered up everything nicely." You rolled your eyes with a small smile at his efforts to make you feel better.

"What's underneath is even nicer, love," He whispered in a soft grit, eyes still locked on yours. You nearly lost yourself in the tender moment.

All you could do was kiss him then, not having to move much, just exchanging a long-lasting peck that made up for all your lost words. 

Jacob kissed you back a little harder, but not by much. Even as things transitioned into something physical, they stayed soft. It seemed Jacob was still communicating with you, gentle taps and touches asking permission to linger longer. You responded in your own way, with sinking closer to him with contented sighs.

Your kisses stayed slow, but steadily grew deeper until you had to part to take a breath.

"I never want to be away so long ever again," Jacob quietly whined as you brought a hand to his pretty face, wondering how you got so lucky in love. 

"How I've missed you." You let a grin blossom to your lips as you realized you didn't have to miss him any longer. Jacob gazed to you with darkened eyes that broke away from yours for the first time to search your face.

"Let me make it up to you, my love?" He asked, the whisper nearly caught in his throat. You quirked a hopeful brow as your hands trailed under his old T-shirt. He tossed it to the ground as you leaned in for another small kiss. Jacob took his time pushing your top away, nipping at your neck and shoulder as you let your shirt fall to the ground.

That's when he secured both strong arms around you, moving to lay you back against the pillows.

He settled on top of you and the weight brought you the encompassing comfort you'd been missing. You trailed a hand across his warm skin, delighted by the feeling. Jacob reached for the waistband of your trousers while he returned to kissing your neck, leaving burning a trail down your throat.

"I love everything about you. I feel so lucky." Jacob sighed, "I am lucky." He nodded with a look to you.

 He went on saying things like that, not just to fill your head, but to drive home how dearly he actually cared for you. He seemed to take account of every bit of you, sending shivers down your spine and even scoring a breathy giggle or two. And when you tried to move on a mission to make sure he was feeling just as lovely as he'd been making you feel, he wouldn't let you. 

Jacob kept a gentle hold on you and made you feel exceptionally wonderful, beautiful and admired. As his touch grew hotter and his hold grew tighter, you decided that so long as Jacob seemed to think you hung the moon, you didn't care about the stars off in the distance. He was the sun that shone light to your darkest parts, and your world was so much better off that way. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

Requests are open ♡

#jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi x fem!reader #jacob elordi fanfic #jacob elordi

[universalitgirlsblog2]

👛🖤SELF-CONCEPT👛🖤

CONTENTS OF THE POST

- MEANING OF SELF CONCEPT

- IS IT NECESSARY TO MANIFEST ?

- HOW TO IMPROVE IT ?

- SELF CONCEPT AFFIRMATIONS

- QUOTES ON SELF CONCEPT BY NEVILLE GODDARD

👛MEANING OF SELF CONCEPT

The way we perceive ourselves and the ideas we hold about our competencies and attributes is called self-concept. ( This definition is from my psychology textbook but it described self concept really well )

🖤IS IT NECESSARY TO MANIFEST ?

Self concept is not necessary when it comes to manifesting but it is very helpful and it does make manifesting more simple and easy.

👛HOW TO IMPROVE IT ?

💞Affirm !! Affirm and saturate your mind with those affirmations. The best way to reprogram your subconscious is through REPETITION. The more you repeat a thought / affirmation , the more dominant it will become.

👡Never underestimate the power of music. If you go on a spotify , just search self concept or confidence or that girl playlist & you will find so many songs which are filled with powerful and positive affirmations. Artists like Nicki Minaj , Le sserafim , Ariana Grande always include powerful affirmations in their songs. Listening to their songs enhanced my self concept.

💞Find a role model! Refer to my post on self concept icons , there are three parts in total . Click here - 1, 2 , 3. Suppose you want a self concept like Blair Waldorf , you can use her effect affirmations and a playlist dedicated to Blair and her vibes. Or maybe your self concept icon is Song Jia ? Then use affirmations based on her and listen to playlists dedicated to her. I have made affirmations for Jia too !! Your self concept icon can be anyone !!!! If you go on spotify and just search Blair , Regina, Song Jia or Thewizardliz etc you will find alot of playlists dedicated to them.

👡Create an alter ego and start acting like her . YOU ARE HER NOW !!! STOP IDENTIFYING WITH YOUR OLD SELF WHO HAD POOR SELFCONCEPT. THAT VERSION DOESN'T EXIST ANYMORE.

💞Already assume that you have a perfect self concept . Don't give the old story any attention or don't waste your energy on your old self. Stop affirming how you have a " bad " self concept and need to work on it. Just assume that you have a perfect self concept already.

👡Mental diet can do wonders. Whenever you have a thought that doesn't align with your perfect self concept. Ask yourself , "Does this thought align with my perfect self concept?" . If the answer is no , then reject it. Become aware of your thoughts and only entertain productive and useful thoughts. Have a positive SELF TALK

💞Realize how powerful you are. You control your reality. You tell your reality/ 3D what to do. Your circumstances , 3D or reality doesn't control you, you control them. Your inner world creates the outer world. Stop victimizing yourself. You are the main character and director of your life. Start acting like it.

Self concept work is supposed to be easy and fun . Don't complicate it.

🖤SELF CONCEPT AFFIRMATIONS

I have a strong and empowering self concept .

I am the creator of my reality

I control how my life unfolds

Everything always works out to my advantage

Circumstances and things are always rigged in my favor

I deserve the best in every area of my life

I am the girl who has it all

I am the It girl of my reality

Nothing is impossible in my world

I am good at everything

I am a master manifestor

I am the best

I am loved and valued

I am wanted by everyone

I am the prize

The world is my oyster

I am successful at everything I do

I have Lucky girl/ boy syndrome

I am the universe’s favorite child, so all my needs and wants are always met, instantaneously

I am powerful beyond limits

I am fearless, unstoppable , invincible and antifragile

I am the one with all the health, wealth, and happiness in the world.

I have a perfect self concept

I can maintain a good mental diet easily.

I am aware of my thoughts

I only think useful and productive thoughts

I am completely in love with myself

I always get what I want

I don't chase , i attract

I am a priority , queen / king , and chosen.

👛QUOTES ON SELF CONCEPT BY NEVILLE GODDARD

"Your opinion of yourself is your most important viewpoint. You are infinitely greater than you think you are.”

“Change your conception of yourself and you will automatically change the world in which you live. Do not try to change people; they are only messengers telling you who you are. Revalue yourself and they will confirm the change.”

“Stop trying to change the world since it is only the mirror. Man’s attempt to change the world by force is as fruitless as breaking a mirror in the hope of changing his face. Leave the mirror and change your face. Leave the world alone and change your conceptions of yourself. The reflection then will be satisfactory.”

“To reach a higher level of being, you must assume a higher concept of yourself."

“I AM wealthy, poor, healthy, sick, free, confined were first of all impressions or conditions felt before they became visible expressions. Your world is your consciousness objectified. Waste no time trying to change the outside; change the within or the impression; and the without or expression will take care of itself. When the truth of this statement dawns upon you, you will know that you have found the lost word or the key to every door. I AM (your consciousness) is the magical lost word which was made flesh in the likeness of that which you are conscious of being.”

"Everything depends upon our attitude towards ourselves. That which we will not affirm as true of ourselves cannot develop in our life.”

"Our present mental conversations do not recede into the past, they advance into the future to confront us as wasted or invested words.”

"The individual’s inner speech and actions attract the conditions of his life.”

“Nothing is impossible to you.”

“Live your life in a sublime spirit of confidence and determination.”

“The world cannot change until you change your conception of it. 'As within so without'.”

"" The part you play on the world's stage is determined by your conception of yourself ."

#affirmations #self concept #law of assumption #neville goddard #loa #master manifestor #it girl #self concept affirmations #affirm and persist #assume and persist #self concept icons #it girl mentality #manifesting tips #how to manifest #edward art #sammy ingram #subliminals #loassumption #living in the end #subconscious #manifest #hyler #kim velez #imagination #song jia #wonyoungism #affirm #affirmdaily #manifest your dreams #law of manifestation

[goldsbitch]

Just don't talk-

-if you can't hear me. p2 to Just don't talk

summary: Enemies to lovers on steroids. Lando can't stand Y/N, the first female driver in F1. He also can't stand not having her with her clothes on.

warnings: minors do not interact, biting, cursing...just generally don't take this one too seriously

It would have been too obvious by the media teams to put Lando and Y/N together in a video out of the blue without any obvious reasons. The brands were not connected in any way and had a completely different online strategy. But serious damage had been done by the two at their last joint interview, so there was a meeting between the teams and F1 media and the request to have them paired up together at a next bubbly F1 video was bargained for and agreed upon in exchange for some favors.

There was a long and very detailed briefing for each of them. At the end they even received something resembling a script. They were both quite good at public speaking and charming the crowds, but it only worked on a spontaneity and intuition base. They were far from actors and the more instructions they received, the more mad it made them, each one in a different way, of course, because hell would freeze over before these two had found something in common. Lando had to fight the urge in him to slam the doors on all of these people. All this media planning was making Y/N dizzy. Had it been anyone else, she'd be slaying this like a pro. But for some stupid reason the PR teams were just not going to let them go and bury their little feud down. She thought this was a bad idea anyway - nothing good could come out of this.

And yet, there they were. Getting ready for the shoot in an F1 hospitality centre, with twenty other people, mostly film crew members. The two barely looked at each other, let alone said hello, just casually pretending the other one is invisible. The director really tried to get them hyped up before the shoot, resulting in one of the most awkward silence the poor lady had ever had the misfortune to have on her set. Only once she gave up and excused herself pretending to be adjusting the camera shot, did Lando shoot a quick look at Y/N. She'd already been looking at him. In that one look they shared their own hidden amusement, obviously enjoying having people being thrown into awkward situations because of their own incompetence to manage each other. At least, this was what Y/N was thinking. Lando was thinking about the gap between her thighs. And only she saw the way his eyes shot down shamelessly to her chest and giving her a quick approving look, probably non verbally complimenting the way hot the race suit covered her chest tightly.

"Who does a whisper challenge in this day and age anyway?" was an unspoken thought that many people shared while getting ready for yet another whisper challenge video to complete the collage of several driver from different team duos, one of which being the pair that was secretly playing with each other under the bedsheets every other night.

Finally, after final touch ups, they were sitting on a couch, across each other and as far away as the couch allowed. That was a conscious decision, as their bodies were becoming so familiar to the proximity and contact, that they had to actively stop each other from mimicking each other's gestures. "Ok guys, I understand this might not be the most comfortable thing you ever did, but we will have to push through it. Lando, will you be ready to introduce the video concept?"

"Yeah, sure," Lando sighed, trying desperately not let anything he that was actually on his mind slip his mouth. Like for example how stupid this was.

He turned his full on youtuber style speech mode on within seconds, actually shocking Y/N.

"Welcome everyone, we're here with F1 and today, we'll be trying a cross team whisper challenge - you never know with whom you'll be sharing a team in the next years anyway!" he said, having the first line vaguely memorized.

"Cut," said the director immediately after that first line. "Thank you Lando, that was some great energy," she dug deep into her professional training and started on the one thing that was positive. "But, the line should be something like "because we rarely get to know one another", your version is opening up place for some unwanted speculations. And, Y/N, you were obviously not ready, as your expression in more of a shock that excitement." It took them five more takes on this before the director made a note mentally to shoot a back up version with a different driver pair.

All the questions had a weird undertone. They were competing more than this situations required. People normally laughed during the takes - Lando was an expert on this, he did videos like this with Oscar often, and he gave him almost nothing to work with. He still managed. Not with Y/N. Tension grew over time. Y/N got almost all of her guesses on the first go. When it was his time, he was opted for staying silent than taking a wrong guess, so she had to repeat everything three times at least. Nobody in the room was having fun. The media interns present were terrified of having to present this at their next meeting and were already trying to find the most upbeat song to pair this up with in their group chat. Few more questions to end this nightmare of an afternoon for everyone.

"Would you like drive with me or do you prefer Oscar?" Lando's face was blank. Not giving any reaction. Y/N took a deep breath and looked to Lando's eyes once again. Same look as she had that one time he tied her up. Frustrated. "Would you like drive with me or do you prefer Oscar?" Still nothing. Dry. She smiled and repeated, loudly as if that was to help. "Would you like drive with me or do you prefer Oscar?" Lando finally responded. Without a beat. "Would you like to ride with me to see who comes first? Brain reads what the mind wants. One would think silence does not have a volume. Anyone present in that room on that day would know better. There were levels to silence and this was a loud one.

Now, innuendos were fairly normal theme in whisper challenges. And they were fun, little things to spice a lonely afternoon for those who were watching. But there was just something in the chemistry these two had that you could not just laugh it off or go on the "will they won't they" route. Aggressive undertone overcame any other vibes. There were two other lines for Lando to guess, he did not get any of them and the whole shoot was quickly wrapped up after. Both of them exited, again, without a word to anyone. Y/N was fuming internally. She texted Lando to come and see her immediately. So her dressing room it was.

"What the fuck, Lando?!"

"Hello to you too, miss fun," he responded, annoyed as ever.

"Don't. Just don't."

Communication was definitely not something they'd win contests at.

"You're exhausting me! I'm like...so mad!"

"Eloquent. You should write poetry. Would be treat to read," he responded, unfased by her outburst.

"Fine. Fuck you then," she lost it completely, anger and frustration built up in her finally taking the best of her. He thought she was mad? He hadn't seen mad. She could not care less of what he thought of her. When she got closer to him, he thought she was going for a kiss. Instead she grabbed him arm and bit him hard. Shock wave ran thought Lando and he froze in the spot. She held her teeth in long and firmly. Shock was quickly replaced by pain, a lot of pain. He played a hero for few moments and then gasped. She stopped with the first sound he made. He stared at her, shocked, confused and weirdly turned on. The pain turned into adrenaline high. A really strange high. He quickly looked at his arm and saw a bruise forming, marking the shape of her teeth. She had a proud look on her face, finally getting it out of her system.

"Great. Better now. Hope it stays on for weeks."

With that, she walked away, leaving confused and dazed Lando behind in her dressing room. He could still feel her teeth in and the adrenaline as if he had just drank three double espressos in one sitting. Why was this turning him on. Why was anything she did the hottest thing anyone ever did. And how the fuck was he suppose to cover this up. He had a photoshoot scheduled for tomorrow. And when was he going get to fuck her again?

p3

#lando norris #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #meet cute #slow burn fic #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #ln4 x reader #i'm sorry #there will be more #ln4 x y/n #lando norris x y/n #f1 smut #smut #f1 imagine

[lostfracturess]

【 ꜱʏᴍᴘᴛᴏᴍꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇꜱ 】 ch. 05

x pairing professor!gojo x med student f!reader (medical au)

x summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

x wc 11.4 k

x warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive behavior, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood / abuse, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

x author's note dive in and let me know what you think—i love hearing your thoughts! & pls like or repost if you enjoyed, it means the world ♡

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

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The alarm rang.

The shrill sound pierced the morning silence.

It rang again.

And then a third time.

Each buzz felt like a hammer against your skull.

You groaned, turning over and burying your head under the covers. All you wanted was to sleep—to sleep and forget.

The alarm rang a fourth time.

Fuck.

With a sigh, you dragged yourself out of bed.

You felt sick.

By the time you hurried towards the auditorium, the sun was already high in the sky, casting harsh lights across the campus. You slipped through the doors. The lecture was already in full swing, the professor's voice echoing through the large room filled with students scribbling notes.

Finding your way to where Toge, Maki, and Yuta were seated, you quietly slid into the empty seat beside them. Maki glanced at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Why so late?" she whispered.

"Poor sleep," you muttered, keeping your gaze lowered to hide the dark circles under your eyes.

'Poor sleep' was an understatement. 

'No sleep' was more fitting.

Yuta leaned in. "After the surgery, I thought you'd be on cloud nine! You're practically a campus celebrity now."

Maki nodded. "Seriously, it's insane. Dr. Handsome letting you take the lead in such a surgery? That's crazy."

Your stomach churned at Maki's casual reference to Satoru as 'Dr. Handsome.' 

Because he was far from.

"Crazy," Toge repeated.

"It's really not that big, guys. Let's just focus on the lecture," you urged. Somehow, their congratulations felt hollow, knowing the full story was far from great as they painted it to be.

Your friends shot you surprised looks, taken aback by your restrained response. 

But talking about the surgery—the surgery you had to lead because Satoru was fucking high on some shit was really the least thing you wanted to talk about. And you couldn't really talk about it either, could you? Not really.

Maki and Yuta exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from excitement to concern. They could sense something was off, but they didn't press further. Toge only gave you a reassuring pat on the back.

As the professor delved into—... whatever he was lecturing on—your mind couldn't help but drift back to the surgery, replaying every moment—the fear, the nausea, the burden Satoru had forced onto you. Your head throbbed with a dull, relentless pain.

The rest of the lecture seemed to drift by in a blur.

Your pen moved mechanically across the notebook. You barely registered the words on the page. As the professor finished and the students around you began to stir, Yuta leaned over. "Hey, if Gojo needs a kick in the ass, just say the word. We've got your back."

You mustered a small smile. "Thanks, Yuta."

Then your phone vibrated in your pocket. You pulled it out to see Geto's name flashing on the screen. You pondered for a moment if you should even answer the call. Taking a deep breath, you answered.

"Geto—"

"We need to talk about the surgery," Geto's voice was serious, almost grave. "The university director wants to see you in his office. It's urgent."

Panic fluttered in your chest. "Has something happened? Is it about Gojo?"

"It's better we discuss this in person. I'll be there too. Just come as soon as you can."

Ending the call, a heavy weight settled in your stomach. 

Apologizing to Yuta, you quickly gathered your things. "I need to go."

Maki's eyes followed you. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm not sure. Something's come up."

Yuta and Toge exchanged a glance, their expressions mirroring Maki's concern. "If you need anything, just let us know," Yuta said.

You nodded, offering a half-hearted smile. "Thanks, guys. I'll catch up with you later."

As you hurried out of the auditorium, your mind raced. What could they possibly want to discuss about the surgery? And why now? Was this about Satoru?

The walk to the director's office felt like an eternity, each step echoing your growing anxiety. The campus around you was bathed in sunlight, the sun burning on your skin. Students laughed and chatted around you. You wanted to shut them up.

Reaching the office, you took a moment to compose yourself before knocking. The door swung open, revealing Geto and Satoru seated in front of the director's expansive desk.

"Please, come in," director Yaga gestured for you to enter.

Director Yaga moved to sit behind his desk, his face unreadable. You took a deep breath and stepped inside. Satoru rose from his chair as you approached to offer you the seat. 

Stupid Satoru, why he be so gentleman after all.

As you sat down, Satoru remained standing next to you. His hand rested on the back of your chair.

Director Yaga adjusted his glasses, his gaze sharp. "I've called this meeting to address concerns regarding the recent surgery," he stated. "It has come to my attention that you, rather than Dr. Gojo, performed the operation. I would like an explanation."

You felt a lump form in your throat, your mind racing to find the right words. Before you could answer, Satoru spoke.

"Director, I assure you, the decision to let her lead was entirely professional. Her capabilities made her the best choice for this surgery."

Director Yaga's gaze hardened as he turned to Gojo. "Dr. Gojo, may I ask you, are you out of your mind? There are protocols and hierarchies in place for a reason. Allowing a student to lead such a critical procedure is not only unconventional—it's downright mad. This could have serious consequences."

"Director, I understand your concern. However, I made this decision not only because of her exceptional skills, but also to promote her potential. It was a calculated risk, one I felt was necessary for her growth as a surgeon."

Wow. He lied very convincing.

Director Yaga seemed surprised for a second. "Promoting potential is one thing, being stupid is another, Dr. Gojo."

Gojo shifted slightly. It felt as if he moved a little more in front of you. 

At this point, Geto, who had been silent, spoke up. "I was aware of Dr. Gojo's decision and supported it. The success of the surgery speaks for itself and reflects the high level of training our students receive here. I'm sure the press will acknowledge this as well."

"Why must you two always cause me headaches?" Director Yaga sighed, rubbing his temples wearily. "Nevertheless, the media coverage has been overwhelmingly positive. It seems the press is quite taken with the story of the 'unconventional surgeon duo' at our university."

"In light of this, there will be a press conference next week to celebrate the success and highlight the university's advances in medical research. I expect the three of you to attend. It's an excellent opportunity to showcase our institution's capabilities and your work," Yaga continued.

The idea of a press conference made you sick. 

You did not want any of this. You did not want praise for something you did out of necessity. The thought of facing the media and answering questions about the surgery made you sick.

Geto's expression tightened. "And to gather more funds for the university, I assume?"

Director Yaga met Geto's gaze squarely. "You understand the game, Dr. Geto. Positive publicity translates to funding opportunities. And let's not forget, it's funding that enables us to pursue advanced research and provide top-tier education."

Director Yaga leaned a bit more over his desk. "Especially given the... unconventional methods you two seem to prefer. Remember, such reckless gambles come at a cost."

Geto exhaled deeply. "Understood, Director. We'll be there."

As the meeting concluded and you stood to leave, Director Yaga added, "This is a great moment for all of us. Let's make sure we present ourselves in the best way possible."

As soon as the door to Director Yaga's office closed behind you, you wanted noting more than to leave.

Looking at him hurt.

"We'll talk later, Geto," you said abruptly.

Geto nodded. "Take care."

You offered a quick, forced smile and hastily made your way down the corridor. Gojo made a move to follow. However, Geto reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder to halt him. "Let her go, Satoru," Geto said quietly. "She needs some time alone."

Gojo stopped. He watched helplessly as you disappeared around the corner.

─── ·✧· ───

Later that day, you found yourself in the university's library, surrounded by books and notes, with Toge, Maki, and Yuta. Your friends had been tiptoeing around the subject since the morning, but their curiosity about the surgery was so obvious.

"So," Maki started cautiously, "what did Director Yaga want to talk about? Was it about the surgery?"

You felt a chill at her question. "Oh, it was just some standard follow-up stuff. Nothing important."

Yuta leaned in. "But you were great in that surgery. Everyone's talking about it. You should be proud of yourself."

You forced a smile. "I am, Yuta. More or less. I just don't like the spotlight."

Toge chimed in, "Pressure."

"Yeah, exactly," you agreed.

Maki observed you closely. "And how are things with Dr. Handsome? Everything okay there?" 

You felt a lump form in your throat. "Everything's fine."

However, Maki didn't seem convinced. "You know you can talk to us, right? If something's bothering you—"

Yeah, you wished you could do that. But the reality was that you couldn't.

"It's complicated, Maki," you said softly.

Maki's frown deepened. "You know, whatever it is, don't let him get to you too much. He's just a man after all."

You knew Maki meant well, but it wasn't as simple as she made it out to be.

"Maki, it's just—"

"I get that something's going on, but remember, no matter how great a surgeon he is, or how charming he is, you are the real star of this surgery. Don't let anyone, not even Dr. Handsome, mess with that," Maki added.

You looked at her, your lips twitching upwards. "Thanks, Maki."

Exhausted, you let your forehead rest against the cool surface of the desk. "There's going to be a press conference about the surgery," you said, your voice muffled. "A celebration or something. And honestly, I'm already hating it."

Yuta perked up at this. "A press conference? That's huge! You're basically a celebrity now."

"I'd rather just focus on my studies and not be in the spotlight like this."

"Hey, think of it this way—it's a great chance to show off your talent. Plus, I heard the medical faculty is throwing a party afterward," Yuta said.

Maki nudged you playfully. "Come on, it might be fun. We'll wait for you at the afterparty when your conference thing is done."

You raised your head and rested your chin on your hand, considering their words. "Well, a party doesn't sound too bad, I guess."

Maki clapped her hands together. "That's more like it! We'll make sure you have a good time."

"Exactly!" Yuta said, grinning.

"Party!" Toge added.

A small smile crept onto your face as you looked at your friends. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. Besides, as the saying goes, a little party never killed nobody, right? 

... right?

─── ·✧· ───

"Here, for your nerves," Geto said, handing you a glass of champagne.

"Thanks." You grabbed the glass and downed the bubbling liquid in one gulp. "This is quite a place."

You and Geto entered the conference venue. 

The main foyer had soaring ceilings adorned with dazzling crystal chandeliers, casting a soft light on the marble floors below. The crowd, a blend of famous medical professionals, university staff and press people, mingled in groups, all engaged in animated discussions that filled the grand space with a lively hum. 

"Remember, just stay calm and be yourself," Geto whispered as you both moved through the crowd. "You've earned your place here tonight." Then he handed you another glass of champagne, fetched from a passing waiter.

You nodded, trying to suppress the urge to flee.

The room was filled with faces, some familiar and others new. The conference area was impeccably arranged, with a stage set up at one end of the hall for speeches and presentations. Press cameras lined the sidelines. Tables adorned with floral arrangements were spread throughout the room.

"All this for a single surgery?" you asked Geto as you scanned the room.

Geto swirled the champagne in his glass. "It's more than just the surgery. The university needs money, that's why we're here."

"Looks like they're spending more than they'll earn."

Geto subtly gestured with his glass towards an elderly woman across form you. "See her? She's one of our main benefactors. Director Yaga would do anything to please her. So, we dress up, exchange pleasantries, sip champagne, and in return, she continues her generous support. That's the deal."

Your gaze followed his. "So it's all about keeping the money flowing. They're not really here for the research behind the surgery."

"Does that surprise you?"

You took a sip of your champagne. "No. It makes me sick."

Goto let out a huff. "By the way, you look stunning tonight," he remarked, his eyes tracing your form, but it didn't feel uncomfortable.

You were dressed in a sleek, black dress. Black heels. Elegant but nothing special. You didn't want to draw more attention to yourself than you already were. 

Geto walked beside you, dressed in a meticulously tailored black suit that fit him perfectly. Beneath the suit, he wore a white dress shirt and a black silk tie. If you didn't know better, you could have been mistaken for a couple, given how matching your outfits were.

"You don't look to bad yourself."

He laughed. "Well, I'll take that as a compliment."

As you mingled with the guests, you could feel the curious glances and hushed tones of those around you. Word of your role in the successful surgery had obviously spread, and now you were the center of attention for the evening.

Geto stayed by your side the whole time, introducing you to important people and making sure your champagne glass was never empty. You weren't sure the latter was such a good idea. But it calmed your nerves.

You were deep in conversation with a group of medical professionals, discussing the surgery, when you suddenly felt the atmosphere changed. Your eyes swept over the crowd and there he was—Satoru Gojo had just walked in.

Every head in the room seemed to turn in his direction, yet his eyes seemed focused solely on one person. You weren't sure you knew how to breathe anymore as his gaze seemed to pierce through the crowd, settling directly on you. It was the first time you'd seen him since director Yaga's office.

He was dressed in a sharp black smoking jacket, his bow tie perfectly knotted. But his eyes looked tired. His lips parted ever so slightly.

One of the medical professionals from another University in your group—her name was something with Tsukomu, or Tsukumo? You didn't quite get it—waved him over. "Ah, there's the star of the evening," she exclaimed.

Satoru made his way through the crowd. As he reached your group, he positioned himself next to you as if it were the most natural thing in the world—as if he belonged there.

"Dr. Gojo, we were just discussing your remarkable surgery," Dr. Tsukumo said enthusiastically. "Your work is truly groundbreaking in our field."

"Thank you, Dr. Tsukumo. However, I must clarify that the true credit goes to this talented surgeon," he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. You wanted to break his arm.

She laughed uncomfortable. "It's rather unusual for a student to lead such a complex surgery. Quite an unconventional approach, don't you think?"

"Unconventional, but successful," Satoru replied sharply. "Here at Tokyo University, we rather encourage innovation. Perhaps your institution wouldn't be so terrible at research if you were willing to take more risks?"

Silence.

God, what was he doing!?

Was he high again??

You looked up at him, his gaze fixed on Dr. Tsukumo. Even in heels, he was still at least a head taller than you. But he didn't seem to be high or something. He seemed clear.

Dr. Tsukumo's eyes narrowed slightly. "Well, Dr. Gojo, that's quite a statement. But you know, there's a fine line between taking risks and just being plain reckless."

His hand still resting on your shoulder, Satoru met her gaze squarely. "You're absolutely right. There is a fine line, and you'd be well advised not to cross it," he replied. "In this case, though, it was a calculated decision based on her proven skill, not recklessness. Sometimes embracing innovation and trusting our young talents is what drives progress, don't you think?"

Geto leaned in. "Satoru, that's enough," he murmured.

Satoru removed his hand from your shoulder and stepped back from the group. His eyes briefly met yours. "Excuse me," Satoru said curtly, before turning and making his way through the crowd.

Your eyes followed him until you could no longer see him.

As the evening wore on, one conversation blended into another.

Wow, you're so young? Already performing surgeries? How did you manage that? You must be a natural talent!

You heard it over and over—answered the same questions over and over. No one really seemed to care about the details of your work, the thought process behind it, or how the patient is doing now—or how one patient had to die for the surgery to be successful.

Recognizing your discomfort, Geto suggested, "Let's step outside for a bit. I could use a smoke." 

Following him, you left the bustling conference hall and ventured out to the quieter grounds surrounding the building. The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the warmth and buzz of the event inside. The building's exterior was illuminated with soft lights, casting a serene glow over the surroundings. 

Geto pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He took a long drag before exhaling slowly. "You're doing well in there," he said, glancing at you. "Don't fret too much about it. We're just here to keep the university happy."

"Is that all?" You retorted. "Putting on fake smiles for director Yaga's sake, so the university gets positive publicity, while no one mentions how much effort it took, or that one patient had to die before it became a success?" You sighed. "This all feels like a cruel joke to me."

"Welcome to the world of research," Geto said, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Why do you even stay in research then?" 

Geto paused, the smoke swirling around him. "Why? I wonder that sometimes too."

You watched him for a moment, seeing the tension in his shoulders ease somewhat as he took another drag from his cigarette. Geto, catching your scrutinizing gaze, said, "Don't look at me like that. I'm not the addict you should be worried about."

You turned your gaze away.

After a few seconds of silence, Geto flicked his cigarette away and turned to you. "You want to leave?"

You took a deep breath. "I do," you said, but then shook your head. "But I promised to go to the after-party with my friends, so I'm staying until then."

"An after-party, huh?" He snuffed out the remaining embers of his cigarette.

Upon re-entering the conference hall, the lively chatter and clinking of glasses continued. A waiter passed by, and without much thought, you reached out to take another glass of champagne.

It was your seventh or eighth glass—you had lost count. 

But alcohol was the only way you could get through another hour of talking about how brilliantly you did the surgery. Oh, how you hated it. Because you did not do it brilliantly, you did it because you had no other choice. That's a completely different thing.

As you chatted with Geto and a journalist, a waiter passed by with a tray of drinks. Your ninth glass. However, before your fingers could grasp it, a hand from behind swiftly intercepted the glass.

"How many drinks have you had already?"

Of course.

You turned around to find yourself gazing into Satoru's striking blue eyes. Geto, meanwhile, continued to skillfully handle the press. "It's none of your concern," you said to him.

"Don't be stupid. You should seriously stop drinking now, otherwise you will soon lose—"

"Lose what? Control?" you cut him off sharply. "Isn't that a bit hypocritical, coming from you?"

He ran a hand through his hair, the strands now slightly disheveled. "That's not what I'm saying," he replied, his voice softening. "I just... I don't want to see you making decisions you'll regret."

"Like revealing your precious secret?"

His jaw clenched. "Go ahead, if that's what you want. But what I'm concerned about right now is you, not me."

"Who are you trying to fool here, Satoru?"

The sound of a throat being cleared snapped you back to reality. Geto and the journalist had paused their conversation, their attention now squarely on the two of you. 

You avoided Satoru's gaze. "Excuse me for a moment," you muttered, hastily excusing yourself towards the bathroom. The door had barely clicked shut when it swung open again, and Satoru slipped inside, locking it behind him.

You spun around. "Satoru, what do you think you're doing?"

"We need to talk."

"I don't want to talk, Satoru. Not now. Not ever!"

"Are you planning to avoid me forever?"

"Seems like a good plan to me!"

Satoru took a step closer. "I know I've put you in an difficult situation, but—"

"Difficult situation?" you said, your voice rising with every word. "Do you even realize how much pressure you've put me under? Fuck, Satoru I had to lead that surgery because you were fucking high! Satoru, you're an addict!"

Satoru looked pained. "I know, and I'm sorry for that. But I have it under control."

"Control?" you scoffed. "You call that control? Satoru, that was the most important day. The only day you were supposed to get your goddamn act together! And you say something about control? You even hear yourself? You can be high on any other fucking day, but not when we operate on a fucking teenager!"

He was silenced.

Your voice cracked as you continued, "Do you even realize how scared I was?"

His brows furrowed slightly as the words left your lips. The intensity in his blue eyes was unsettling, and there was a vulnerability in his gaze that you had never seen before. You weren't used to seeing him like this, and it left you feeling strangely vulnerable yourself. 

Still, you pressed further.

"You made me do it. Because you have no control over it. So don't tell me anything about control or that I'm drinking too much when it's just my way of dealing with the damage you've done to me."

"I never meant to hurt you," Satoru said. "But I knew you could do it. I wouldn't have let you lead the surgery if I wasn't sure about that."

"That's not an excuse Satoru. It was wrong and you know it. You left me no choice. I don't know what sick game you're playing with me, but it has to stop."

"Game?" His voice rose. "You think this is a game for me?"

You flinched back slightly, the intensity in his tone catching you off guard.

He took a few steps closer. "You just don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

"You consume me!" he blurted out, his voice raw. "I had it under control, I was stable until you came into my life! But now, you're all I can think about!"

"Don't make this about me," you countered sharply.

"That day, I was more nervous than I had ever been in my life," he continued, almost pleadingly, "because I knew that if this surgery failed, it would hurt you—it would kill you, and it would end the research once and for all. And I couldn't bear the thought of you crying again. Not because of me."

"You're just finding excuses."

"Oh, sweetheart, I wish it was. But it's the truth." He closed the gap between you. "God, I can't think clearly when I'm around you! I can't sleep without thinking about you! All there is is the need to be near you, and nothing ever compares to that."

This can't be real.

He could never feel this way about you.

Because someone who would feel that way would never do what he did.

"You're lying." You stepped back, your spine hitting the cold wall behind you. But he was quick to close the distance between you again.

"You're not believing me?" His eyebrow arched in question. In a swift motion, he pulled you close to him, one hand around your waist, the other gripping your jaw between his thumb and fingers. You gasped at the sudden force.

"You need proof?" he said, his words a mere prelude to the searing kiss that followed. Your eyelids fluttered closed as the immediate surge of heat and adrenaline coursed through your body. 

He pressed you against the wall, his body molded against yours. You could clearly feel the intensity of his emotions, the raw need in his movements. His frustration, his desire, his confusion—all were laid bare in that kiss.

"You drive me fucking insane," he breathed against your lip. His tongue brushed against your lips, seeking entry, and you eagerly granted it. Without hesitation, his tongue boldly delved into your mouth. Your lips melded against his, causing you to moaned into his mouth.

His hand moved to your hair, grasping it, forcing your head back to deepen the kiss. His mouth covered yours, demanding more, you could barely catch your breath. You were hot all over. He tasted so good. He felt so good.

You were acutely aware of every point where your bodies touched, the pressure of his weight against you, the force of his grip in your hair. His touch was like fire on your skin, igniting a yearning you couldn't contain. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer still.

You hated him.

You tried to remember that, but all good reason left you as his lips moved over your cheeks, trailing down your jaw to your neck. You found yourself giving in to the sensations, arching your neck to give him better access. His grip on your hair tightened.

Fuck, you hated him.

He lied to you.

You hated him.

Right?

Your fingers clutched at his shirt, desperate for more contact. Satoru's hands slid down your sides to hike up the hem of your dress. In a swift motion, he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the wall.

The friction of his body between your legs was maddening. You could clearly feel the hard outline of him. Your breathing grew ragged, your back arching further, grinding yourself against his hardness.

"Take them off," you muffled against his lips.

Satoru pulled back, leaving a trail of saliva that briefly connected your parted lips. "What?" he gasped, his half-lidded eyes searching yours.

"Your pants," you panted.

He smirked. Without warning, he spun you around and set you down on the marble counter of the sink. The coolness of the marble beneath you contrasted sharply with the heat of his body pressed against yours.

His lips found yours again, fierce and possessive, as if staking his claim. His hands pushed your dress further up, exposing more of your skin to his touch. He didn't break the kiss as he began to undo his belt, the clinking sound of the buckle sending shivers down your spine. 

His hand gripped your hips, his fingers slipping under the silk strap of your underwear. With a deft twist, he wound his fingers in the fabric and pulled them down. He gripped your hips and pulled you close to him.

"Might want to cover your mouth," he whispered against your lips.

Without another word, he positioned himself and pushed all the way inside. You bit down on your lip as you tried to stifle a scream from the sudden stretch, feeling every inch of him fill you up. The sensation was both painful and exhilarating, causing you to tighten around him. 

You clung to his neck, your chest pressed firmly against his. "Fuck... Satoru."

"Shh." He placed a hand over your mouth. "Quiet, sweetheart."

He withdrew, teasingly brushing the tip against your entrance as if to savor the feeling of your dampness coating him. Then he slammed back into you again, causing you to accidentally bite down on his hand. He didn't flinch.

Your mind emptied of all thoughts as he drove deeper and harder into you, leaving only the sensation of his thickness filling you completely.

He picked up speed, pumping his hips into yours with increasing urgency. With each deep plunge into your core, you felt yourself being stretched impossibly wide—felt his cock hit bottom again and again.

Every move he made felt so good, too good—as if he knew your body better than you did yourself.

He shifted his stance, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder. You leaned back against the cold marble countertop, letting go of everything else as he changed the angle of his hips, hitting spots that instantly made your legs tremble.

You cursed, the sound dying away under his palm. You cursed yourself for doing this and cursed him for making you feel so fucking good.

Your stomach tightened and you could feel an orgasm building dangerously fast. The sound of the mirror behind you shaking grew louder, echoing through the room. But all you could focus on was the man between your legs, driving into you with a ferocity that left you breathless.

"Turn around," he ordered, having already swung you around halfway. He placed a hand on your back and pushed you down onto the counter. Your heated skin touched the cold marble. You stared at your reflection, taking in your glazed eyes and swollen lips. 

Satoru locked briefly eyes with you through the mirror. "Keep quiet, will you?"

You clamped your own hand over your mouth, not trusting yourself to keep quiet. His eyes burned into yours as he continued his thrusts. Slowly this time, driving his cock into you inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt. You moaned into your hand.

"Fuck," he gasps, his eyes closed and brows etched in pain. "You feel so good."

Satoru pulled out and pressed back into you again, your entire being quivered with pleasure. You clenched your hand tightly over your mouth, biting down on your palm to stifle the sounds wanting to escape. Every muscle tightened.

With each thrust, he did pause briefly at the tip of your entrance, teasing your senses with anticipation, before pushing further, burying himself deeper and deeper into your core, filling you completely. It was like he was savoring every second as if this was the first and only time he could fuck you.

Your head hung heavy, your hair cascading down your forehead. Every nerve ending in your body came alive as he hit all the right spots, coaxing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

He quickened his pace again, pounding into you with a frenzied urgency that left you gasping for air. With each hard thrust, his cock pulse inside you, driving himself harder and faster towards release. Your limbs went weak as you surrendered fully to the pleasure.

And then, suddenly, everything exploded into blinding white light, consuming you whole as you cried out, muffled against your palm. Your entire body convulsed in pleasure.

"You're so fucking tight," Satoru hissed as you clenched around him. He followed close behind, his body convulsing as he released inside you, filling you completely. He collapsed against you, panting and shivering as he tried to catch his breath.

You opened your eyes, meeting Satoru's gaze through the mirror. For several moments, neither of you spoke, just gazing into each other's eyes as you felt the slow drip of his cum running down your inner thigh.

You watched the slight rise and fall of his chest as he regained his composure, the muscles in his arms tensing and relaxing subtly. His ragged breath filled the room. It stopped only for a moment as he pressed a tender kiss to your back.

Then, he pulled out of you, causing a faint wince.

"Fuck—This is...," he started, but words seemed to fail him. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear his thoughts. He stepped back, pulled up his pants, and straightened his disheveled suit.

Yeah. Fuck.

In the sudden absence of adrenaline and desire, the reality of what had happened hit you hard.

What you had just done.

With whom you had done it.

Fuck, he was your professor. And even worse, an addict. What were you thinking?

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach.

"Did I hurt you?" Satoru's voice cut through your thoughts.

His question surprised you. As if physical hurt was the worst thing in the chaos of what had happened. Even though his firm grip on your hips would surely leave marks.

"I'm fine." You pushed off the marble counter, hastily pulling your dress down and fixing your tousled hair. 

Fuck.

Your mind raced as you watched him.

He adjusted his bow tie, his breathing still labored. His muscles quivered subtly. A thin layer of sweat glistened on his skin, making his white hair cling slightly to his forehead. When his eyes met yours you saw a vulnerability in his gaze that made your heart ache.

You looked away.

Fuck.

"I need a drink," you said, more to yourself than to him. You needed space, time to think, to process. Without waiting for a response, you unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out, leaving Satoru behind. "What? Wait!"

The bright lights and lively chatter of the conference washed over you as you emerged. The noise and the crowd felt like a tidal wave, engulfing you as you navigated through the sea of elegantly dressed attendees.

Spotting a waiter carrying a tray of sparkling glasses, you reached out to take one. But before you could grasp a glass, you felt a firm grip on your wrist. You spun around to find Satoru right behind you, his expression grave.

"I think you've had enough to drink for tonight," he said in a low voice.

"I don't need you to monitor my alcohol intake, Satoru," you snapped, trying to free your wrist from his hold.

As he was about to argue further, your conversation was abruptly halted by the approach of an elegantly poised older woman. Satoru's grip loosened, and he turned towards her with a noticeable shift in demeanor.

"Mother," Satoru greeted her dryly.

Mother?

Mother?

You stood there, momentarily baffled.

His mother was dressed in an elegant dark blue evening gown that clung to her slender figure, adorned with lace and sequins. Her white hair was immaculately coiffed and cascaded down her back in soft waves.

She had steel-gray eyes that looked like a faded shade of Satoru's striking blue eyes. But there was no warmth to them as her scrutinizing gaze traveled up and down your frame. Her left eyebrow raised slightly. It made your skin crawl.

"Satoru," she greeted him in a tone that matched his.

"I can't say I expected you to show up here," Satoru replied.

She surveyed him with a critical eye, her lips set in a thin line. "Why must you always greet me with such coldness, Satoru? I am here to celebrate your success, after all."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's the reason."

Subtly, Satoru shifted closer to you, almost as if to shield you from her piercing scrutiny. Yet, her focus remained on you. "And who is this? The talented young surgeon I've heard rumors about, or simply another one of my son's fleeting amusements?"

You bristled slightly at her insinuation.

Satoru's jaw clenched visibly. "That's enough."

"Oh, Satoru, don't be shy," she waved a dismissive hand. "She's a pretty one."

„She's talented," Satoru said.

"Oh, even worse," she mused, taking a sip of her wine. "Let's see how long this lasts. But please, Satoru, try to keep the family's dignity."

Satoru's patience was visibly wearing thin. "Shut it, mother."

His mother laughed. "One last thing, darling," she said, turning back to you. Her hand extended towards you. "Your lipstick is slightly smeared. Next time, do try to be more subtle about your affair with my son."

Satoru's reaction was immediate. "Get your hands away from her," he warned sharply, swiftly intercepting his mother's hand before it could reach you.

"Mrs. Gojo, what a pleasant surprise to see you here."

You turned your head to the familiar voice and saw Geto approaching with a courteous smile. Satoru's mother turned to him. "Mr. Geto, always the charmer," she responded, her tone suddenly devoid of all coldness.

Geto flashed a bewitching smile. "I was hoping to have a word with you. Could I steal you away for a moment?"

With a curt nod, Satoru's mother agreed. "Of course. Satoru, we will talk later." She cast one last pointed glance in your direction before allowing Geto to guide her away.

As they walked off, Satoru exhaled deeply, the tension in his shoulders easing. "You're not the only one with a complicated mother."

Somehow, Satoru's addiction was no longer that surprising.

You quickly touched up your lipstick. "She's a bitch."

Satoru gave a wry smile. "She is."

At that moment, your phone buzzed with a new message. You glanced at the screen.

[10:44 PM] Yuta: Hey, we're all at the afterparty. You coming?

Without saying anything, you turned to leave, but Satoru's grip on your wrist stopped you once more. "Where are you going?"

"I'm heading to the afterparty."

Satoru raised an eyebrow. "I thought you weren't much of a party person."

"Well, I might have changed that," you retorted, attempting to pull your wrist free.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Too bad you don't get to decide that."

"Don't be stupid. I'll bring you home."

"Stop it, Satoru! You have no right to care about me. I don't want you to care about me! Now let me go!"

You could see the hurt in his eyes at your words. But he released your wrist. "Please, don't do this to me," he murmured, almost pleading.

"Like you forced me to do that surgery?" Your words felt like blades in your throat.

Satoru fell silent.

Without another word, you turned and walked away. You didn't look back.

─── ·✧· ───

The pulsating beats of the club greeted you as you stepped inside. The rhythmic bass of the music pulsed through the floor, vibrating up through your feet. It was overwhelming, yet oddly calming.

Your friends were already there, somewhere amidst the sea of bodies lost in the music. Pushing through the crowd, you scanned the area for familiar faces. The club was packed. Laughter and conversations melded with the music. The sweet scent of alcohol filled the air.

Eventually, you spotted your friends huddled near the bar. As you approached, they waved you over. "There you are!" Maki shouted over the music. "We were starting to think you'd stood us up!"

You forced a smile. "Wouldn't miss this for the world," you replied, trying to sound more upbeat than you felt.

Yuta leaned in, his eyes curious. "How'd the conference go?"

"Nothing special happened. Let's just have fun tonight," you shrugged off his question. You didn't want to delve into the shitty evening you had, not here, not now, not ever.

Turning to the bar, you ordered a drink, something strong and quick. The bartender slid a glass towards you, and you downed it in one smooth motion. The liquid burned its way down your throat, momentarily stealing your breath.

Maki raised an eyebrow. "Wow, going hard tonight?"

"Just catching up," you said.

"So, what's the story? Did Dr. Handsome finally realize he's madly in love with you? Come on, there's gotta be some steamy OR drama you're hiding from us."

Her words slurred just a bit. She clearly had a few drinks already.

"You're just imagining things, Maki."

"Well, can you blame me?" Maki laughed. "Every time you two are in the same room, it's like watching a drama unfold. The tension, the glances—come on, spill it!"

Toge nodded in agreement.

You rolled your eyes. "Trust me, it's far from that."

Yuta jumped in. "Come on Maki, don't push her. We're here to have fun, remember?"

Maki punched Yuta's arm. "Oh, like you're not dying to know too!"

The group laughed, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to be swept up in their infectious energy. You all moved to the dance floor, where the pulsing rhythm of the club's music enveloped you completely. The bass reverberated through your body.

Surrounded by the crowd, you found yourself moving to the beat. You clearly felt the effects of the alcohol, a pleasant buzz that dulled your worries. But here, in the midst of a sea of bodies, those worries felt distant, as if they belonged to another life.

It allowed you to lose yourself, to forget, if only for a while. The heat of the crowd, the scent of sweat and perfume, the sensation of being surrounded yet utterly alone in your thoughts—it was intoxicating.

Your friends were nearby, also lost in the moment. Maki's laughter rang out, clear and carefree, cutting through the music. Yuta performed a series of hilariously exaggerated dance moves. 

At one point, he attempted a robot dance, his limbs moving in jerky, mechanical motions that made everyone burst out laughing. Toge even joined in and added his own twist to the robot dance.

You laughed. You laughed so hard like you haven't in a long time, the stress and worries of the day momentarily forgotten. And you were so grateful to them, even if they didn't know what was going on.

You ordered a round of shots for the group. Coming back to your friends group, you all gathered in a small circle, holding up the small glasses.

"To friendship and unforgettable nights!" Maki toasted.

The shots went down with a burning kick.

As the night continued in a whirlwind of music and laughter, you noticed a young man weaving his way through the crowd towards you. 

He had a confident stride, a slight smile playing on his lips. In his hands, he carried two shots. You recognized him as a fellow medical student from the university, though his name escaped you in the moment.

"Hey there," he greeted, offering you one of the shots. "Thought you might need a refill."

You accepted the shot with a smile. "Thanks, stranger."

He chuckled. "Well, we're not exactly strangers. I've seen you around university. Your beauty is pretty hard to miss."

"You have a way with words, don't you?"

"Just speaking the truth," he replied smoothly, raising his glass for a toast. "To a good night."

Glasses clinked, and you both downed the shots, the liquid heat spreading a pleasant warmth through you.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, his charm and easygoing nature making it easy to talk. He asked about your interests outside of medicine, and you found yourself sharing bits and pieces about your life against the backdrop of the party's rhythmic music.

Every so often, your eyes drifted to your friends, ensuring they were still within sight. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, occasionally glancing over to check on you.

As the song changed, the young man extended his hand. "How about we take this conversation to the dance floor?"

You hesitated for a moment, a brief image of Satoru flashed through your mind, but you quickly dismissed it, drowning out any thoughts of him. "Sure, why not?" you said with a smile, as he dragged you away from your friends.

The music and the rhythm of the dance floor were momentarily exhilarating, but as you moved to the beat, an unsettling sensation began to take hold. The lights of the club began to blur, and the pulsing music seemed muffled, as if you were underwater.

A wave of nausea swept over you, and your surroundings began to feel surreal and disconnected.

He leaned in closer, placing a hand on your waist. "You want to go outside?"

You flinched slightly. His touch felt awful. You didn't want him to touch you.

Not him. 

"No, I'm... I'm going to the bathroom real quick." Your voice sounded alarmingly faint and distant to yourself.

"Should I come with you?"

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog that seemed to envelop your thoughts.

Somehow it became hard to push through the crowd. Your legs barely moved at your command. Everything felt muffled. As if the sounds and lights around you weren't really reaching you anymore.

Stumbling slightly, you made your way toward the exit instead to the bathroom, each step feeling heavier than the last. Once outside, the cool night air hit you, but it did little to ease your spinning head. 

The world around you seemed to tilt and sway, the bright lights of the club's exterior sign blurring into streaks of color. You leaned against the building for support, trying to steady yourself.

This is not normal.

Something was very wrong.

Could it have been the drink?

Fuck.

Phone.

Where was your phone?

You needed to call someone.

You fumbled for your phone, wanting to call your friends who were still inside the club. Your fingers felt clumsy and uncoordinated as you tried to unlock the screen, the icons dancing before your eyes.

After several failed attempts, you finally managed to dial Maki's number. You pressed the phone to your ear, each ring echoing distantly, as if coming from far away. "Come on, Maki, please pick up," you whispered under your breath.

Maki didn't answer.

Yuta didn't answer either.

Neither did Toge.

The loud music in the club probably drowned out the sound of their phone.

Fuck.

Panic set in. You knew you couldn't go back into the club in your current state, not with the risk of running into that guy again who probably put something in your drink.

You scrolled through your contacts with trembling hands, your vision swimming. Then, without a second thought, you dialed a number. The phone barely had time to ring before he answered.

You let out a shaky breath, not sure what to say only his name escaped your lips in a whisper, "Satoru..."

That was all he needed to hear.

All he ever needed to hear.

"Where are you?" He said without missing a beat.

"I'm outside the club... I think someone drugged my drink," you stammered, struggling to keep your thoughts coherent. "Everything's spinning, I can't..."

"Stay right there. I'm coming," Satoru cut in. "Don't move, and tell me exactly where you are."

You gave him the best description you could manage of your location, your words slurring and overlapping as the world around you spun out of control. Satoru continued to talk to over the phone, telling you to hang on, that he was on his way, but his voice seemed to fade in and out. 

Time seemed to lose its meaning. 

The moments stretched on, each one feeling longer than the last. You were vaguely aware of voices and the sounds of the city around you, but they felt distant.

Then, abruptly, a familiar presence cut through the fog.

Without saying anything, Satoru's arms gently lifted you from the ground. He held you close, the warmth of his body a soothing presence as he carried you towards his car. The world seemed to spin and blur around you. Clinging to his neck, you managed a faint whisper, "Satoru..."

"It's okay, you're safe now," he assured you in a calm voice.

Reaching his car, Satoru settled you into the passenger seat of his car, securing the seatbelt around you. Sliding into the driver's seat, he started the engine. You felt his car begin to move. His hand rested on your thigh.

You twisted uncomfortably in the seat, fighting the nausea that threatened to overwhelm you.

"Hang on, we're almost there," Satoru said.

The drive felt surreal, the city lights passing by in a dreamlike blur. When the car finally came to a stop, you realized that you weren't at your apartment. "Where are we?"

"We're at my place," Satoru unbuckled his seatbelt. "You think I would leave you alone after you got drugged?"

"No, I'm fine," you protested weakly, though your body betrayed you with its unsteadiness. Satoru was already at your side, lifting you into his arms once again with gentle care. As he carried you from the car to his apartment, your head spun, and your protests faltered. "I'm fine, Satoru, I really..."

He glanced down at you. "Don't be stupid."

You wanted to argue more, but the dizziness made it hard to focus. Reluctantly, you allowed him to carry you inside. Maybe, even let yourself fall more into his embrace.

Once inside, Satoru carefully set you down on the couch in his living room. In the next second, he was kneeling in front of you and removed your heels. You flinched slightly at the touch of his hands on your ankles.

"You really don't have to do this—"

"Stop it, already. And let me take care of you," he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You sighed and lay back on the couch, your body feeling strangely heavy.

"Wait a second," he then said and went into his kitchen. You rolled over to your side on the couch, still everything spun. You reached for a cushion and laid your head on it, legs curling up to your chest. You tried your best to not throw up on his expensive looking furniture.

Your eyes wandered around Satoru's apartment. 

The open living area was spacious and airy, with large windows that let in the soft glow of the city lights. The walls were adorned with a piece of art, abstract in design, with bold strokes and vibrant colors that perhaps cost as much as your entire university tuition.

Your gaze drifted to a bookshelf lined with medical books and journals. On one shelf were several trophies lined up, each one gleaming under the soft lighting. As you focused on them, it became clear that they were from basketball matches. 

Then Satoru returned with a glass of water. "I didn't realize you were that good at basketball," you said, trying to distract yourself from the nausea.

Satoru followed your gaze and a slight smile crossed his face. "Yeah, I was not that bad."

He sat down on the couch beside you, and handed you the water. "This should help," he said revealing a few pills in his other hands.

"What are these?" you asked as you pushed yourself up a bit. 

"They help you get off whatever it is in your bloodline."

Hm. 

He must know, right?

Was it wrong to think that you were glad to know someone who was an addict when you were being drugged yourself?

Anyway, you took the glass of water and swallowed the pills.

Satoru watched you for a moment, before standing up and walking over to the kitchen again. As he returned, he had donned a pair of gloves and was carrying a syringe.

"Wait, what's that for?" you asked, eyeing the syringe.

"Hold out your arm to me," Satoru ordered as he sat down beside you. "I want to take a blood sample and run some tests."

God, always the doctor.

Reluctantly, you extended your arm.

Satoru's touch was gentle as he skillfully found a vein and drew a small sample of blood. "There, all done," he said, applying a small bandage to the puncture site. "I'll get this to the lab first thing in the morning."

Satoru tore off the gloves. "How are you feeling?"

"The room's not spinning as much," you said. "Thank you."

He reached out, gently cupping your face with one hand, his thumb softly tracing your cheek. "Did you see who gave you the drink?"

"I don't remember his name... but he's from university. I've seen him around."

His expression hardened, his hand dropping away from your face. You watched as Satoru stood, the frustration evident in his movements. He began to loosen the bow tie of his suit he still wore.

"You're staying here tonight," he stated.

"I'm not sure if—" 

"You're staying, no arguments," he cut in firmly.

You shut your mouth.

He took off his suit jacket and threw it over a chair. Rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, he suggested, "You can borrow something to wear from my wardrobe," nodding towards a door across the room.

Yeah.

You wanted nothing more than to finally get rid of that dress.

It felt filthy.

Your whole body felt filthy.

You stood, but your weakened form betrayed you once more. Suddenly off-balance, you almost fell, but Satoru was there in an instant. He quickly wrapped his arm around you. 

You found yourself unexpectedly close to him. His lips hovered just an inch from yours. "You need help?"

"I'm—" you started, but the words caught in your throat as his gaze locked onto yours. "I'm fine."

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Your lips lingered there, barely touching.

Slowly, he loosened his hold on you. "Call me if you need anything." 

With weak legs, you made your way to his bedroom. The moonlight streamed through the windows, casting a serene glow across the room. The bedroom was spacious with a large, comfortable looking bed dominating the space.

The room smelled like him.

You approached his wardrobe, which was open and neatly organized. As you browsed through his clothes, you couldn't help but notice that everything, from his shirts to his trousers, seemed to be expensive, each piece perfectly tailored.

It sure had its benefits when you were one of the most famous neurosurgeons.

Feeling a bit out of place among such expensive pieces, you reached for a pair of sweatpants and a soft cotton shirt. They were obviously his, likely to be oversized on you, but you couldn't help but notice his familiar scent lingering on them.

You threw the cloths on his bed and tried to change out of your dress. Your hands fumbled with the zipper at the back of your dress. You twisted and turned, trying to reach it, but it was no use. The zipper remained stubbornly just out of reach.

You considered just ripping it off for a second.

But then you took a deep breath.

"Satoru?" you called out.

After a brief pause, you heard his footsteps approaching the bedroom. You hadn't bothered to close the door. He appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. His eyes held a hint of amusement as he observed your struggle.

"It's this zipper... I can't get it," you said, turning to show him the back of your dress.

Satoru moved closer. "You know, that's a pretty lame excuse to get me into the bedroom." You felt a shiver run down your spine as his breath lightly brushed against your neck. Gently, he gathered your hair and swept it over your shoulder, exposing the length of your back. 

"Still, you're here," you whispered as he reached for the zipper and slowly pulled it down. Cold air hit your now exposed back.

"I'll always be there when you need me."

You inhaled sharply as you felt the dress loosen around you.

Satoru remained close to you. His warm hands reached up, brushing over your arms up to your shoulders. His fingers traced the thin straps of your dress, lingering just a moment too long, as if contemplating if he should slip them off your shoulders or not.

You didn't want him to slip them off.

Or not?

Or what was it you wanted?

In that moment, time seemed to pause. You both stood there, caught in a shared suspension, the room around you bathed in soft moonlight that filtered through the windows. The silence only broken by the sound of your heavy breathing. 

"You should get some rest," he murmured. "We can talk tomorrow."

No you didn't want to talk about it.

You didn't want to admit it.

You took a deep breath.

"I'm fine," you countered in a whisper. "I don't need to rest."

His lips drew nearer, and he placed tender kisses along your shoulder, igniting a trail of warmth that seemed to awaken every nerve in your body. His hands found your hips, anchoring you firmly to him.

"You should. It's been a long nigh."

Your heartbeat quickened. "Don't try to tell me what I need."

Satoru sighed. His lips continued their exploration, moving up your neck with a softness that belied his restraint. "Don't make this so hard," he murmured. "I'm trying to do the right thing here."

"It didn't seem to bother you too much in the bathroom earlier."

You turned around to face him. Satoru's hands found their way to the small of your back, pulling you closer still until you were pressed tightly against him.

"I know," he said, his voice strained. "And I'm sorry for that, we shouldn't have—"

"Stop, Satoru," you interrupted. "I don't want your apologies." 

He paused.

You swallowed hard. "I want you to make me forget this fucked up day."

"Not like this. You're drunk and also probably drugged," he said, but you could almost see his resolve wavering as he held you close, the contours of your bodies molding perfectly together. 

You exhaled softly, your gaze fixed on his lip. "I don't care."

Because you really didn't.

You needed him right now.

Needed the feeling of his skin on yours.

You knew it was wrong—using him like this was wrong, but you didn't care. Perhaps it was the drugs in your bloodline or the alcohol but you didn't care. You wanted him, craved the escape he—and only he—could offer you.

Satoru was close, so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. The struggle in his eyes made it clear that he was losing whatever battle the rational side of him was waging. So, you waited—waited for him to lose against his self control.

"I get it, you're hurt. But this won't give you what you need and I won't use you like that."

The irony wasn't lost on you. Weren't you the one who was about to use him?

"Maybe I want you to use me?"

"God, what are you saying?" He almost trembled under the strain it took him to hold back, as his hand reached up to grasp the nape of your neck. "You'll regret his tomorrow. You'll hate me for this," he breathed out, pained.

"Then let me regret it, Satoru." Your fingers reaching up to slowly unbutton his shirt. His mouth hovered over yours, his lips grazing yours in a torturous almost-kiss, yet still maintaining that maddening distance.

"I don't care," you breathed, continuing to slowly unbutton his shirt.

As the last button was undone, the fabric of Satoru's shirt parted, revealing the well-defined muscles of his chest. Your fingertips grazed his skin, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your touch. Satoru inhaled sharply.

"Listen, we can pretend what happened earlier in that bathroom was just a stupid mistake. I'm fine with that." His gaze dropped to your lips. "But we can't keep making the same 'mistake' and deny what's happening. If we cross that line again, it changes everything."

"I know. But I don't care. I can't...I need you."

With that, the last restraint he held shattered.

Satoru's lips finally found yours, igniting an immediate fire within you. 

His mouth moved hungrily against yours, deep and consuming. He didn't give you a second to catch your breath, but you didn't care. You didn't need air when you had him. 

You melted under his touch, surrendering completely. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss even further. The heat of the moment consumed you, and all you could think of was him, the way he tasted, the way he felt, the way he made your heart race.

The world around you faded away. 

Slowly, deliberately, he began to undress you. "Tell me to stop," he said as his kisses trailed from your lips down to your neck. You closed your eyes, moaning softly at the way his touch made you feel alive.

You shook your head. "I want you."

"Please, tell me to stop," he said again, even as he slipped his shirt off from his shoulders, revealing a landscape of defined muscles across his shoulders, neck, and abdomen. His hands brushed over your body, taking in the curve of your hip bones and the smoothness of your skin.

In that moment, everything that had held you back—the fear, the hurt, the lies—crumbled into insignificance. There was only the undeniable truth of what you felt for each other, a connection that was as intense as it was complicated.

"I'm yours, Satoru," you whispered. "All yours. Do whatever you want to me."

He paused, locking eyes with you. "Is that what you want? What you need?"

Yes. A thousand times, yes.

Somehow this man in from of you had the power to let you forget every rational thought. And somehow you needed this right now—needed him to make you forget all the hurt, he partly is the reason for but still—you wanted nothing more than to be his in this very moment.

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump forming in your throat.

"Then I'll take care of you."

Without breaking contact, Satoru swept one arm beneath your ass while grasping your waist with the other. Your legs wrapped around him as he lifted you effortlessly off the ground. He carried you to the bed, before laying you down.

Your back pressed firmly against the mattress as Satoru followed, covering you completely. He leaned down and captured your lips in a slow, lingering kiss. His body molded perfectly to yours, as you traced your fingertips across the expanse of his exposed chest and toned abs.

Satoru pushed your thighs apart, spreading your legs wider. His finger wandered under the hem of your underwear, tracing torturous lines over your skin. You arched your back upward, silently begging for his touch.

He obliged, pushing your underwear aside and sliding one finger inside you. "Is that what you need?"

You moaned softly, as he delved further into your core. His movements were slow and deliberate, your breathing quickened, becoming shallow and rapid. "Yes...yes, please..." You arched your back, urging him further. 

His other hand slid beneath you, cupping your hip bone firmly. The sensation of his finger moving within you sent shivers coursing through your veins, igniting an intense fire deep in your core. You clutched at his hair. "More, Satoru."

His response was immediate. He slipped another finger inside you, stretching you wider. The sensation was overwhelming, leaving you helpless in his grasp.

Before long, his mouth met yours once again, taking control of the kiss as his thumb brushed gently against your clit. With every stroke of his fingers and flick of his thumb, you felt yourself growing increasingly close to the edge. 

"Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you, sweetheart," Satoru muttered against your lips as his fingers drove deep into you, burying themselves to the limit. Your grip on his hair tightened as you felt him hitting your core.

The sound of your breathless moans filled the room as Satoru's skilled hands worked their magic on your body, making you yearn for more. "You know what I want, Satoru...don't make me beg for it."

Satoru's lips trailed down your jawline and towards your neck. "Bit unfair, don't you think?" His teeth grazed your sensitive flesh, sending shivers down your spine as his finger continued to thrust into you. "Wanting me to fuck you, but not letting me tease you a bit about it?"

As he made his way further down your body, you closed your eyes, surrendering yourself entirely to the feeling of him inside you. He trailed kisses all over your body until he reached your parted legs, planting featherlight kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He smiled up at you, his dark eyes sparkling with wicked intent. "But don't worry, you don't have to say anything, I know exactly what you need." He positioned himself firmly between your legs. His hot breath against your clit, making you quiver with anticipation.

He pulled his fingers out of you briefly to pull down your underwear. Then, without warning, he plunged his tongue into your core, sending you reeling with pleasure. Each stroke of his tongue sent electric sparks shooting straight to your core. Moaning loudly, you writhing beneath him, urging him onward.

He delved deeper, suckling hungrily at your clit, his tongue leveling deeper into you. "Oh God, yes...please don't stop," you panted, gripping his hair tightly as he was buried between your legs.

"God, you taste so good." He pulled back his tongue, licking over your clit and inserting his two fingers again, pumping them vigorously in and out of you. "Can you take on more for me?"

You gasped as he pushed yet another finger into you, stretching you impossibly wide. But you couldn't help but crave more—more of the intense sensations coursing through every inch of your being.

His lips closed around your clit once more. He sucked hungrily, flicking his tongue against you as he curled his fingers inside you, hitting all the right spots in a way that left you gasping for breath. You tightened your grip on his hair. It must have hurt. But he didn't care.

With each passing second, your release drew nearer. He could feel it. He quickened his pace, pushing deeper and harder into you. "Come for me, sweetheart."

And then, without warning, it hit you. You cried out, your body shaking with the force of it all as he continued to suckle and thrust simultaneously, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure from your quivering frame.

"Stop, Satoru..." you panted as he continued to devour your oversensitive core with his mouth. Your legs trembled. It was too much—far too much. "Fuck, stop."

He pulled away from you and moved upwards. His lips brushed softly against yours, making you taste your own arousal. "Don't act like you can't take it," he murmured against your lips. "Wasn't that what you wanted?"

Your breath hitched as his eyes suddenly darkened. "You wanted me to make you forget about your fucked up day, remember?"

He pulled back, kneeling before you as he zipped open his pants and pushed them down along with his boxers, exposing his cock—pre-cum already leaking from the tip.

He lowered himself onto you again, pressing his erection against you. "You should be really careful of what you're asking for," he whispered into your ear.

Your heart skipped a beat as his hand found your throat, his grip tight. Yet, you couldn't help but crave more, wanting to surrender completely to his will. "Satoru, just...do me already," you gasped as his pressure on your throat increased.

He smirked. He knew exactly how much power he had over you.

And he liked it.

"You're so damn hot when you beg for more," he whispered against your lips.

Without warning, he surged forward, burying himself deep inside you, savoring each inch as you gasped and arched your back. You bit down on your lower lip, stifling a scream as he filled you completely, every inch of his length stretching you wide.

"Don't hold back, I want to hear you scream my name," he said as he began to move. His movements were rough and unforgiving, pounding into you relentlessly. You cried out his name, writhing underneath him as he took you without mercy.

You clawed at his shoulders, pulling him closer, begging for more. But he was in control here, and he loved the way you responded so eagerly to his every move. He paused suddenly, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in.

Tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as his cock slid back in, filling you once more, sending shivers through your entire body. Then, he picked up pace, faster now, harder. Your walls tightened around him as he pounded deeper and deeper, making you feel alive in ways you never thought possible.

You clung to his shoulder blades, your fingers digging into his skin, leaving marks as he thrust into you. His eyes locked onto yours, watching as pleasure etched itself across your features. He leaned forward, bracing himself above you, and delivered another hard thrust, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips.

Suddenly, he pulled out, flipping you over onto your stomach. Before you even had time to process what was happening, he pressed you face-down into the bed, grabbed your arms and crossed them behind your back, pinning you firmly in place.

Your moans turned into cries as he hitched your hips higher, burying himself even deeper inside of you from this angle, his hardness stretching you wide. It wasn't gentle anymore, far from it. He was rough, almost cruel, pushing past boundaries until you weren't sure if you could bear it any longer.

And yet you couldn't get enough.

You closed your eyes, burying your head into the sheets. He slammed into you again and again, each time he hit bottom. Your body quivered beneath him, and you let out a series of whimpers and gasps as he pushed you closer to the edge.

He tightened his grip on your wrists, pulling you closer against him. His breathing grew ragged as he lost himself in the sensation.

You wanted nothing more of him than to lose himself.

As he buried himself deep within you once more, you felt yourself shattering. Every muscle in your body convulsed, your cries muffled by the sheets beneath you. You shuddered violently, writhing underneath his firm grip as your orgasm threatened to consume you whole.

His rhythm faltered slightly as he felt you clench around him before picking up the pace again, and soon after, he followed you over the edge. He came inside of you, filling you whole with a sharp hiss of pain.

Satoru released the grip on your wrist and collapsed over you, resting himself on his arms. He remained motionless for a moment, both of you catching your breath. You lifted your head off the sheets, swallowing hard as the sensation lingered.

He leaned down, his breath warm on your back. His tongue ran along the curve of your spine, savoring the salty taste of your skin. "Feeling better now, sweetheart?" he asked, as his cum dripped onto the sheets.

Turning your head, you caught his eye. His gaze held yours, a sly smile on his lips.

You didn't know what to say—what to think even.

There was just this man who drove you absolutely insane—your professor, your research partner, your mentor's best friend, and...

...an addict.

"You have to get clean."

─── ·✧· ───

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

x a/n: thank you for the wait dears, this chapter did turn out super long. also two smut scenes haha. i actually don't really enjoy writing these and it takes me forever but somehow i wrote two now... i blame it on ovulation. also i'm not too happy with the second smut scene but i edited it like three times already and can't seem to get it right, so i'm just posting it now. anyway thank you for reading, feel free to leave your thoughts! :) 

🏷️ @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss @mylovelessnightmare @bbyxxm @musababy @neuviloved @ykehqqy @hexrts-anatomy @fvsm4x @tw0fvced @heijihattorisgf @sadmonke

#gojo saturo #saturo gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x female reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut

[idiopath-fic-smile]

i make no promises, like i genuinely don't have any real ideas for scenes after this one, but uh here is more Singin' in the Rain ot3, continuing from here. they're not even on the honeymoon boat yet! but for whatever it's worth, there are shenanigans.

Here was another thing Cosmo had failed to predict: Don was a nervous flier. 

Cosmo had been up in the air a handful of times; Archibald owned a small personal craft that he flew sometimes on the weekends. And sure, it was cold and noisy and there was no denying that watching the ground disappear below you could give a guy a bad case of the stomach lurches, but it was a thrill all the same. An adventure, he thought, burrowing deeper into the very warm wool coat he’d had the presence of mind to bring. Don was generally up for an adventure; he’d once ridden a motorcycle full speed off a high canyon and fallen ten stories into the water below, for nothing but a day’s wages and an approving nod from the director.

The airplane offered comfortable seats and tables and fashionable cold salads served by very calm stewardesses, but from the moment of liftoff, Don sat there like a man waiting for the electric chair. Now he was clutching the armrests so tightly, the knuckles stood out sharp and white against his normally very appealing hands. 

“We should have taken the train,” said Kathy.

“Nonsense,” Don gritted out. “I’m fine. This is all perfectly fine.”

Belted in on either side of him, Kathy and Cosmo exchanged a look. One of the benefits, thought Cosmo, to being the funny little friend and not the leading man was that you were allowed to admit when you were terrified, at least a little, at least if you could make it a joke.

“I’m so sorry, Don,” Kathy said. “I should have asked if you’ve been in one of these before. Even knowing we’re perfectly safe, a train would’ve been so much more comfortable.”

Don closed his eyes. “Really, Kathy,” he said, a little more sharply. “You don’t need to—” The plane dropped several feet, and he swallowed hard.

Cosmo considered the situation. The facts were these: Don Lockwood was too proud, and too enamored with his wife, to be willing to discuss such a weakness in front of her, and now if somebody didn’t act fast, the three of them were in for an awkward, unpleasant flight. Or rather, series of flights, since the plane was going to need to refuel a couple of times along the way.

There was nothing else for it; Cosmo would have to save the day.

He took in Don’s ashen complexion and Kathy’s guilty face, and then he said cheerfully,

“Y’know, Kathy, for what it’s worth, Don actually has been in one of these before.” When this failed to earn any real response from the man, Cosmo poked him in the cheek. “Haven’t you, Don?”

“What?” said Don distractedly, swatting the finger away. “No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have.”

Don’s tense brow creased for a moment in irritation. “I think I’d remember—” he started.

“It was for one of those early stunting gigs,” said Cosmo. “A little biplane. They gave you goggles and an aviator hat and a brown leather jacket—” The incident stuck in Cosmo’s mind mostly because Don had looked very good in that jacket, but there were half a dozen reasons nobody needed to know that, “—and then they had you crash the plane through a barn.”

“Through a barn?” Kathy repeated, disbelieving, because apparently the fan magazines didn’t tell you everything after all.

“Into, not through,” said Don. “I didn’t come out the other side.” His fingers had relaxed ever so slightly on the poor armrests. “And that doesn’t count, that contraption never got off the ground, I only had to—”

“Into a barn?” Kathy interjected. “Why?”

Cosmo stuck a mock-pensive pose. “The things we do for art. And five dollars. And I think the producers let him keep the jacket.”

They had; Cosmo had suffered that autumn.

“Well, what about common sense,” said Kathy, “and human rights, and basic safety?”

“I said he had goggles on, didn’t I?” 

The truth was, back in those days, no matter how dangerous the feat, how seemingly impossible the stunt, Cosmo had never truly worried. It was Don, and Don could do anything. Except admit to his wife that he needed help, apparently.

“What about—about dignity,” she went on, and Cosmo snorted.

“I regret to inform you that Lady Dignity will not be making an appearance tonight.”

“Cosmo,” said Kathy, slowly, “Why in the world did you let Don do a thing like that?”

“Let?” Don and Cosmo said in unison, Don a little weakly but it was something.

“Don’t pin this on me, madam,” Cosmo added, “I am not my brother’s keeper.”

“Not my brother at all,” Don muttered, which stung a little, but Cosmo decided to let it slide in the face of how his plan was working.

“That’s hardly the worst thing we did for money,” Cosmo said instead. “Has Don told you much about our ignoble days on the road?”

Kathy shook her head, delighted. Don very discreetly kicked Cosmo in the shin. Things were looking up.

.

“So there we are,” said Cosmo, “performing in this tiny hamlet in Nebraska called, I kid you not, Oatmeal—”

“Oatmeal?” Kathy laughed.

Don had freed his fingers from the armrests entirely; he was now resting his entire face in his hands. He was no longer pallid as Nosferatu; in fact, he might have been blushing.

“It was Coyoteville,” Don volunteered without looking up.

“Pal, if you think I’d forget a place with a name like Oatmeal, Nebraska—”

“If you think I’d forget a place with a name like Coyoteville—”

“Coyoteville was in New Mexico!” said Cosmo. “Coyoteville was where we had to bunk with that ventriloquist, remember?” He watched as Don sat up and snuck a look at Kathy, who was clearly having a ball.

“The one who insisted his dummy got its own bed?” Don said with a slight smile.

“Don and me had to sleep on a twin mattress on the floor,” said Cosmo, “Curled up like a pair of puppies, if you can picture that—”

“I think so,” said Kathy, leaning forward, eyes bright, “only what happened in Oatmeal?”

“Wait, was Oatmeal where—” Don started.

“Yes! We’re about halfway through our routine, singing and hoofing our hearts out—fit as a fiddle and ready for love—when we look off to the side, at the next act waiting in the wings and we see—”

Don laughed. “You’re right, we were onstage when we realized it!”

“—at more or less the same time, I think—”

“Yes?” said Kathy.

“—the Amazing Dancing Daisy, the headliner following us—”

“Nobody had bothered to explain to us that she was a trained donkey,” Cosmo explained. “We were literally opening for an ass.”

“How was she?” Kathy managed, once she had more or less gotten her wild laughter under control. “The dancing, I mean?”

“Her footwork was a little sloppy,” said Don.

“Don’s just cross,” said Cosmo confidingly, “because she got much more applause than us.”

“They kept throwing her flowers!” said Don. “What was she meant to do with them? She didn’t even have hands!”

“So listen, Kathy.” Cosmo leaned way over Don to make eye contact with her. “The next time you two are having some sort of petty domestic squabble, if Don tries to act all high and mighty, just remember: I’m pretty sure your lawfully wedded husband is still, deep down, jealous of a donkey.”

Don grabbed Cosmo’s shoulder and flashed him a mock-scowl. “Why, when we get back on solid land…”

“I’m not afraid of you, villain,” said Cosmo, “not with your lady love here.” He stretched out an arm to Kathy. “You’ll protect me, won’t you?”

“Of course, good sir,” said Kathy, genteelly taking his hand and it was a joke, it was ridiculous, it was all completely harmless because Cosmo was hardly a threat to their marriage, and so Cosmo ducked his head and fluttered his lashes at her, and cooed,

“How shall I ever repay you?”

And then, without breaking eye contact, Kathy brought his hand to her mouth and kissed it, just a quick, warm, press of lips, entirely chaste but somehow something different, and Cosmo darted a nervous glance at up Don—he was practically in Don’s lap at this point, to better reach out to Don’s wife—because threat or not, there had to be some kind of line Cosmo was crossing. But Don was just watching them, with parted lips and slightly glazed eyes, as if it was not at all upsetting to see his girl and his best friend doing…whatever it was they were doing, and this moment was rapidly sliding away from any point of reference Cosmo might’ve had. 

Normally, Cosmo liked other people’s eyes on him. That was half the reason anyone was in showbiz, wasn’t it? Nobody might’ve looked at him twice in the street but with the right props and a couple of dance moves, he could be somebody for the length of a number or two, spread a little joy and get a lot of it back. So it wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy Don looking at him and Kathy like that. It was just—it was too much, too close to something he might’ve dreamed up alone in his bed at night. He hadn’t, but that was mostly because he’d lacked the imagination.

Cosmo freed himself, twisted back upright, and coughed. “On second thought,” he said. “I think the ventriloquist was in Dead Man’s Fang, in Arizona? Coyoteville was where that strongman threw up inside Don’s fiddle.”

“How did he manage to—” Kathy sounded sincerely perplexed. She’d left a coral pink lip print on the back of Cosmo’s hand. He tugged his coat sleeves down to his fingertips.

“Sheer determination,” said Cosmo.

#to be clear all of the tiny town names they reference i got from pausing on the signs that flash up briefly in the movie #i WISH i was enough of an artist to invent the town of Oatmeal Nebraska #singin in the rain ot3

[stabortega]

NO SURPRISES — CHAPTER TWO

Summary: Having to deal with the aftermath of that situation was definitely worse then finding out the truth.

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!G!P!Reader

Warnings: NSFW. Implied fem reader, she/her pronouns used. Mentions of sex, dirty talking and sexting. Knife play. Mentions of kinks, nothing explicit. Top!Reader x Bottom!Jenna. MDNI.

Author's Note: Still think my writing is trash but you guys seem to like it. 💜

MASTERLIST.

"What the actual fuck?!" Jasmine almost yelled as Jenna shoved her inside one of the dressing rooms in the set, while she tried to shut the other actress up. "Thank god someone's paying that poor girl's college."

"This is not fucking funny, Jasmine. I shouldn't have told you." Jenna locked the door behind her, looking at her apprehensively. She made a terrible mistake by telling Jasmine what went on last night. "And now they expect me to work with her? After I-"

"Seen her dick? Oh god, what will be of you?" The black girl laughed, while sitting down on the couch. "Chill, alright? She probably doesn't even know you donated. I mean, what was your username?"

Jenna gulped. "I don't wanna say it."

"Come on, was it that obvious??" Jasmine rolled her eyes, waiting for an answer.

"It was my first name then the first four digits of my birthday."

"I cannot fucking believe you."

Living in New York wasn't easy. Every apartment was obnoxiously expensive, so you had to resort to leave the city and start living in Brooklyn. It was a nice neighborhood, the best you could afford if we're being completely honest. Moving to the big city was by far the best and the worst decision you've ever made. Other than starting college, obviously.

I mean, you loved every second of it, but it started to fuck your financial life right up the ass.

"You should create an Only Fans or something." You almost spit the whiskey shot you were drinking right back to your cup, looking at your friend as if she just told you that she had killed three men with a needle. "I'm serious, (Y/N). Do you know how much money you can get just by posting out some feet pics, or whatever?"

"I'm not gonna sell pictures of my feet for cash, Liana." She shook her head no while taking a sip of her Appletini.

"Then don't. Sell your dick pics, or livestream. Come on, I know how much you're struggling and you know you're putting that body to waste. What's the worse thing can happen?"

And she was right. You started out with just an account on that website, posting some pictures here and there; until one of your followers suggested livestreaming and said she would pay some good money just to watch you cum on your stomach (which obviously, she did). It happened so fast that, when you realized it, you were able to get yourself a better place right downtown, pay off your college debts and buy a professional video camera to shoot some amateur movies. And no, not the pornographic kind.

You wanted to be a director someday, but you were also really good with a camera; which is why you got the opportunity to work in the upcoming Scream movie as an assistant videographer (and because Liana put in a good word for you). It was your first real gig in your area of interest, you couldn't be more excited.

The first day was just like any other. You got to meet a few people and get a hold of the equipments you were going to use.

"Ay, (Y/N)! Come here for a sec!" Your boss, Dave, called your name while you were looking at one of the IMAX cameras, which you've never got the opportunity to film with. You realized he wanted to introduce you to some people, which he did. You just didn't expect it would be one of the protagonists (and the newest it actress of Hollywood). "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jenna."

You extended your hand for her to shake, which she did after looking at it for a couple of seconds, almost if she was analyzing you. "Nice to meet you too, (Y/N)."

And that was pretty much it, you guys didn't exchanged any other words besides that on that particular day. You even thought that she could be avoiding you, for whatever reason. All throughout the day, you felt her gaze on you multiple times, but everytime you looked at her, she just looked away.

"You're definitely not subtle." Jasmine whispered in Jenna's ear, while she watched you handle one of the camera films. "I'm pretty sure that she can physically feel your eyes on her butt as we speak."

"She's definitely gonna find out that I was on her stream last night." The Ortega took a deep breath, looking away when she realized you looked at her again.

"She's not, don't get paranoid. You have the most obvious and boring username ever? Yes. It would take just one Google search to figure out your identity? It would. But still!" Jenna got up from the chair she was sitting, realizing that all she wanted to do was to smoke this off.

"You're not helping, Jasmine." She took out her pack of Marlboro's and her lighter once she was outside. "I never even watched porn before, not even by myself."

"And now you donated $1500 to a complete stranger just so she could cum while moaning your name. That's a character development." Jasmine stood beside Jenna, who had just started smoking so she could even try to forget that she wanted to sit on her coworker's dick less than 24 hours ago.

"I'm never doing that again, Jasmine. It's inhumane and gross. It was the first and the last time."

jenna2709: thought about you a lot today.

"Oh, did you? Good to hear that." She locked the door behind her and sat on her bed. That was Jenna's, at least, 10th day of watching your streams nonstop. And she had just "caught" you in the beginning of your livestream (which meant that she had the notifications of your page on and was too much of a chicken to admit it). So that meant that you weren't even undressed yet, you were just rubbing your dick over your sweatpants and chatting a litte bit with your followers before you started your actual show. "What exactly were you thinking of, huh?"

jenna2709: of me sucking your cock under this table while you tell me how much of a good girl i am.

Jenna realized what she said after she already sent the message. Where did that came from? She thought while looking intensely at the livestream, hoping you would just stop with the teasing and take your cock out of your pants for her to see (and drool). "Oh baby, I'm sure you're very good with your mouth. Wanted to cum right on your throat and make you swallow every drop."

jenna2709: i would be honored to be your cum dump.

"Okay, I crossed the line." She took a deep breath, not even recognizing who was that person inside of her, the person that would say the most obscene and erotic shit that she ever heard. It was almost if something awakened inside of her everytime she saw you. Every couple of days, at exactly 10PM, she would lock herself in her hotel bedroom and fuck her pussy so deep until she passed out from having like, five orgasms. And that was the easy part, obviously. The hardest part was definitely waking up in the morning and having to look at you as if she didn't saw your dick inside of a fleshlight the night before.

Jenna grew up christian. In a american dream type of household. But getting in touch with Hollywood and all of the film industry made her get out of her bubble and quite literally, discover the world. She drank, she smoked, she went to 2AM parties at some A-List celebrity's house that she never even met before. But sex? Never sex. She met a few people here and there, but nothing further. It made her think about that, the fact that she couldn't even be interested enough in someone to actually have some sort of contact with them; but with you, she would stay all night thinking about you fucking her raw and senseless until she couldn't remember who she was.

"Stop teasing, Jenna. We both know you were born to be my cum dump, and mine only." You were so horny imagining having that stranger on her knees while she had her mouth open, waiting for you to dump your cum inside of her pretty little throat. You took your cock out of your pants, a little bit earlier than you've expected, but you were getting so worked up that you didn't even thought about your stream routine. You started to stroke the member gently, feeling your dick pulsate right on the palm of your hand. "I know that you're the only one who can take care of this right, don't you think?"

jenna2709: if you were mine, i would make you cum on my pussy everyday.

Jenna started to get scared. Who was this person that was hiding inside of her? Was she really like that? Is she the female version of Christian Grey and doesn't know it yet? How the fuck she got so horny all of a sudden?

She knew that the reason you were playing that little game with her was merely money. But there was a part of her, a tiny part that hoped that you felt attracted to her as much as she felt to you. Even if you'd never seen her face, or her body. It didn't mattered if she had just met you a couple of days ago; she wanted you to want her, the same way she wanted you.

"And if you were mine, I would carve my name on your belly so everyone would know who you belong to." Oh yes, the knife play.

Jenna wasn't naive or innocent, she knew about fetishes and BDSM practices; and thankfully there was the option of marking your kinks on your own profile when you created your account. The actress spent an embarrassing amount of time researching some of your kinks that were listed on your profile (there was so many things she didn't even knew existed, to be completely honest). And the thought of you doing all of those things with her got her aroused in a matter of seconds.

jenna2709: you could carve your name on my face, for all i care.

jenna2709: i would definitely want people to know that i'm yours.

The rest of the livestream went as usual, you doing all of the things that your subs asked you to, Jenna being awarded as the number 1 tipper for the 5th time in a row, nothing out of the ordinary. You were just about to cum for the second time when Jenna tipped you again with a request.

Wow! "jenna2709" donated $2000 with the message: i want you to cum for me, again.

"You know I never decline your requests, baby. But, let's be fair this time around?" You answered, a little bit breathless, masturbating your cock as hard as you could. "I'll give you a private livestream if you show me your face."

Oh, a private livestream?

Jenna had been following your for awhile now ever since her first time watching your stream. She knew that private livestreams weren't something you did. And yet, you were here, offering one for free, just to see Jenna's face in return. It was a really good offer, but Jenna couldn't accept. If you found out who she was, the shooting would be the most awkward work experience for both of them. It would be like, "Hey, (Y/N)? Can you get this camera ready for me? Also, I've already seen your dick and I'm having wet dreams with you fucking me like the slut I am." So, she took one last breath after she decided to stick with her original plan and decline.

jenna2709: it's a deal.

#scream #jenna ortega smut #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday #the fallout #you #scream movies #pwp