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nathaslosthershit · 2 months

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A Little White Chapel Wedding (LS18)

(Part 3 of the Blind Item Series) Summary: Lance and his now wife had their reasons for eloping, he just hopes his dad will understand.

Lance and his girlfriend, now wife, had always wanted to keep their relationship out of the spotlight. Given how much hate and controversy surrounded Lance due to his father’s ownership of the team, he had already taken a major step back from social media. He knew that dating another heir apparent would piss many fans off, even if it was solely for love that they were together. Both of their families knew and greatly approved of the relationship but once Lance had proposed it seemed their families wanted to take over fully. Wedding preparations had been started without any input from the groom and bride-to-be. Seeing all these decisions made without the two’s consent had put a ton of stress on them. This was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives and they had absolutely no say in the matter. Guest lists full of investors and other business partners took away from the intimacy of the event. No detail was left unscrutinized and it was going to be far too extravagant, as this was going to be the first time they announced their relationship and the families joining together.

When Lance and his fiancee had gotten to Vegas, they had no plans of getting married that weekend. The thought only crossed Lance’s mind after the race.

“P5 Lance! Oh honey I couldn’t be more proud.” She said as she ran up and hugged him. She had been waiting what felt like forever to congratulate him, as he had been so surrounded the minute the race ended.

Pulling away from the hug, Lance put his hands on her cheeks as he said “let's get married”

“We are, Lance.” She responded, perplexed.

“Tonight. Let's elope and have an actual wedding about the two of us. No one else.”

“Honey, our families would kill us if we did that.” While the idea sounded wonderfully romantic and gave her butterflies just thinking about it, it just couldn’t work with the way things were.

“Who cares? We don’t have to tell them right away. We get married now, take an extra long honeymoon over break and then tell them once the season starts.”

“I don’t know Lance.”

“Please? It is unfair we don’t get to have the wedding we want. Who gives a shit about the guestlist with a million business partners we’ve never met. If they still need a wedding then we will do it their way but let's have our way first.”

She took a minute to respond, thinking the idea over before she finally gave her answer. “Okay, Lance. Let's get married.”

Lance had never envisioned his wedding going the way it did, but he also never saw it the way his family planned it to be.

Although as happy as he was, he felt so guilty when he thought of how his family would feel knowing that he got married without them there to see it. As important as business was to Lawrence Stroll, he knew his dad valued and loved his family above all else.

Over break, the newlyweds had gone on a bit of a delayed honeymoon, posed as just a really nice vacation.

They only got the honeymoon suit because they really wanted to go all out. No other reason…

They thought they had made it out unscathed, planning on telling their family in a week when they had gotten back from their vacation. Too bad they didn’t get to.

Lance’s wife saw the post first. He barely checked socials anymore. When the photos of them confirmed that the Blind Items post was about them, she felt a chill run through her body. Their families had to have known already, public image was important to both of them so they definitely had PR teams constantly checking what was going on. And she was correct.

“Honey, I just got a call from my Dad. He sounded pretty upset, and said we had to come home quickly and meet with him.” Lance said, confused and worried. His dad rarely sounded as serious as he did on the phone.

Wordlesy, she passed her phone to Lance with the tweet pulled up. She could see the color drain from his face as he read through replies. Fuck this wasn’t good.

What was probably the most stressful plane ride of Lance’s life was also painstakingly long. He couldn’t swallow the guilt building in his throat at how upset his father must be.

The once welcoming and happy house was now cold and silent as the couple walked inside. His father didn’t greet them, just told the two of them to follow him into his office. Lance just held his wife’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly as they made their way up there.

Lawrence still remained silent as he sat in his chair, looking at his married son and new daughter-in-law for the first time.

Lance was the one to break the silence.

“Dad, I know this is a lot but please-” He was cut off by the simple raise of his father’s hand to silence him.

“Why, Lance? We spend all this time planning the two of you a beautiful wedding just for you both to throw it away? For what?”

“Dad, you dont under-”

“No, Lance, I don’t. I mean how could you be so stupid?”

“Please if you just listen, Dad-”

“I have never been more disrespected by yo-”

“Stop!” Lance’s wife spoke up. She finally had to butt in. “You tell Lance you don’t understand and when he tries to explain you cut him off! How are we supposed to have a conversation when you won’t let anyone else speak?”

Silence spread across the room as no one dared to respond. She could practically feel the smoke coming out of her ears.

“Dad. We eloped because we wanted something that was for us. The wedding you were planning wasn’t ours. We didn’t have a say in anything. From guest list to menu, you all controlled that. We wanted to get married on our own terms. While I will forever be sorry you weren’t with us, I am not sorry for getting married the way I did, to the girl I love.” Lance grabbed your hand once again to squeeze, to remind him why he did what he did.

His father didn’t say anything for a few moments. The newlyweds waited patiently, praying Lawrence wouldn’t fly off the handle again.

Finally he said, “Then I owe you both an apology. I understand that you both had expectations for your wedding and not having any say in the matter didn’t feel good. I wish you both said something. At the end of the day though, this is still a big deal for our families business-wise. You are my only son though, Lance, I wish I could have seen you get married.”

“We can still have the wedding, Mr.Stoll. Our plan was just to have something for ourselves, then have the main event be for everyone else.”

Lawrence smiled at that. Happy he would still get to see his son get married, even if it is the second time.

This time luckily, the couple got a bit more of a say in wedding preparations. With no comment from either family, the Vegas elopement was quickly forgotten once more pressing gossip reached the public.

While it still wasn’t what Lance and his wife had envisioned, having their families there this time was all they could ask for.

lance_stroll

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lance_stroll One for us and one for them

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#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lance stroll x reader #ls18 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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agirlcandream84 · 2 months

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Frank Discovering He Bruised You During Your... Activities.

Back with another Frank drabble. What can I say? Frank + Angst = Comfort. I'm imagining when Frank discovers that he's rougher than he realizes.

Frank Castle x Reader

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If he was honest with himself, Frank had noticed you seemed to be moving a bit more tenderly than usual. He asked you about it this morning when he saw the way you lowered yourself on the couch, wincing just a hair when your body made contact with the cushion.

"You ok there sweetheart?" he asked, with his brows all screwed up.

"Oh yeah. Just went hard on the Peloton or something," you respond not meeting his eye. You hadn't even ridden the Peloton that week but if Frank had known that the sheer force of him the night before had left you tender and swollen, he'd be beside himself. And it's not as though you wanted it to stop anytime soon. So you had decided to keep it your little secret. Hiding the bruises blooming on your inner thighs were gonna be another challenge altogether.

When dinner rolled around you were out of your work clothes and into your comfy clothes-- Frank's old T-shirt and your comfiest cotton shorts. Frank had just made a pot of his spaghetti and you were both planning a night of carbohydrates, wine and Love is Blind.

"Grab the wine glasses, will ya doll?" Frank calls over his shoulder as he plates the spaghetti. You open the cabinet where they're kept and let out a tiny huff. Top shelf. This burly man was always putting items on the top damn shelf. Either he was height-blind or he liked seeing you struggle.

You lift one knee onto the countertop and reach your fingers toward the stem of the glass. Straining as your fingertips wiggle, your big toe the only part of you left on the floor as your ass sticks out and you grunt for the glasses. Franks hears your struggle and turns around, walking over the the cabinet.

"Right, I forgot you're a shortstack," he chuckles, his body enveloping yours from behind as he reaches with ease to the glasses. His hands land on the swell of your ass as he steps back to admire the view-- your one knee still propped on the counter, tiny shorts hiked up.

Bruises on your inner thighs made visible.

You instantly see the smile drop from his face and his fingertips land feather-light on your inner thigh and he squats on one knee.

"Shit sweetheart, you're hurt," he says softly. 'You get all this from the Peloton or somethin'?" he asks, looking up at you, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Uh, I.. yeah, I think so," you mumble, dropping your knee from the counter and tugging your shorts down. Frank remained on one knee and placed a hand on your hip to keep you in place, his other hand touching the blooming bruise on your other leg.

"Sweetheart... did I ... did I do this to you?" he asks, disgust creeping into his voice. It was the reaction you were desperate to avoid. Frank's self-loathing was always rippling under the surface, easy access.

"Frankie I bruise easy. I have my whole life. This is noth--" you start to ramble. Talking to make his guilt go away. It had taken so long for him to be vulnerable again-- to let you in. You weren't letting anything set back the clock.

"Sweetheart this ain't nothin'" he cuts you off, "I fucking bruised you. Like an animal." Frank was always so comfortable hating himself. He drops his hands from your body and stands, a sharp breath through his nose and he swipes his hand down his face.

"Frankie it's nothing. I mean it," you tell him, eyes pleading for him to crawl back from his self-loathing.

"Why didn't tell me? Why didn't you tell me I've been hurting you?" he asks, the anger at himself seeping in through the edges.

"Because I.... I---" you stammer, unsure how to stop this runaway train. Pleading in your head "no, don't pull back."

"Are you afraid of me?" he asks, misinterpreting your hesitation, his self-loathing dripping off every word. Like he was disgusted to exist in his own body.

"Because-I-don't-want-anything-to-change!" you blurt out in one garbled word. "I don't want a single thing to change! I don't care about the dumb bruises! I love the way you make me feel! Just stop. Stop pulling away. I can't go back to that time. I can't go back to you killing yourself on the streets every night" you shout at him, pleading and grasping at anything to just get him to hear. To understand.

"Hey hey hey," he says, hands up in supplication before landing them on your shoulders. You lean into him and slow your breathing as he shooshes you, broad circles rubbing your back. You stay like that a few moments. Neither of you speaking.

"I know, ok? I know how hard that was for you. I'm not... I'm not gonna do that again," he assures you. You nod your head against his chest, muttering a thank you. "I don't like hurting you though sweetheart. It kills me to see those fucking bruises on you," he adds.

You pull your head from his chest to look up at him. "I know... but I just want you to make me feel good,'' you practically whisper, hands digging into his shirt in fists. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply, letting your body melt into his.

"Fuck sweetheart," he huffs, lifting you gingerly as he carries you to the bedroom, promising to make you feel good.

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ok lol got that out of my system.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fanfic #frank castK #frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n

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psychedelic-ink · 3 months

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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ⸻ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader

⌜HOW MR. MILLER STOLE CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST⌟

genre: enemies to lovers, romance, fake dating, minors dni

word count: 5.2k

chapter summary: unlike what you thought, the rumor hasn't been dying out and with a new game plan in mind, you go to seek out Joel.

warnings: age gap, fake dating, mostly fluff, drinking, small town gossip, people talking about the age difference, another heated kiss

**dividers by @saradika

You’re a fucking idiot.

A moron.

A fool.

Fucking small towns. Of course, rumors would spread. Of course, everyone would start talking about seasoned survivor Joel Miller and his new young lover. You shudder at the thought, unable to identify if it’s a bad shudder or the kind that makes your stomach flutter. You hate the idea of Joel being right. He’d said people would talk. And newsflash, unlike what you had thought, the gossip hasn’t died out.

There are two fundamental reasons why neither you nor Joel can just shrug it off, saying it’s not true. The first reason is that both Steven and Marc saw you being shoved up against a wall, passionately locking lips with Joel. The second reason is the fact that no one would think the twins were lying.

Again, this wouldn’t be an issue if you didn’t have a past to hide. People would start digging if you told them the rumors were only that. Rumors. They would start asking questions like where the two knew each other from. And you knew for a fact that Joel doesn’t want people digging either. People knew what kind of man he was, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they will turn a blind eye to him killing the last hope of human survival.

Snow crunches under your boots, your body sweating despite the cold. Tommy’s place finally comes into view. You pray he hadn’t heard any of the rumors, as impossible as that might be.

Some part of you believes that if a time ever comes when everyone finds out what Joel had done, you'll stick up for him. You’re the only person who knows the way of the firefly. How easy it was for them to kill when they thought they were the heroes. In the end, he spared you, it was hard to hate a person who allowed you to live. No matter how much he regrets it now.

On the porch, you stare at the door. It’s weathered for the most part, some parts fixed and polished but not the whole thing.

You knock loudly two times, it doesn’t take long for Tommy to open the door, his lips curling instantly when he lays his eyes on you.

“Well well well, look who it is,” he says too cheerfully, you’re already rolling your eyes. “The good old sister-in-law! Can you tell me why I had to hear about you and my brother tying the knot from Wellington?”

Jesus fucking Christ, Wellington knows? No wonder this bullshit isn’t dying out.

“We’re not married Tommy.”

“Yet.”

“Just tell me where he is, matchmaker.”

He raises an eyebrow, his smile melting, “You don’t know?”

It takes you everything for you not to take deep heavy breaths. He’s making this exceptionally hard. You had a plan. And that plan meant you and Joel wouldn’t be an item in the near future. For said plan to work, however, no one needs to know it was fake to begin with.

“I don’t have his schedule, Tommy, and I wanted to surprise him with,” You press your molars together and lift your bag, forcing a smile. “Baked goods.”

Tommy is full of glee again, “Awwww how fuckin’ sweet. Didn’t know you had it in ya Pecan.” Before you can answer, he points to the bag. “I’ll give you the information for one cinnamon roll.”

You give him a deadpan look, mouth opening and closing like a fish. You’d only gotten two and you were looking forward to it. Instinctively you pull the bag back, hiding it behind you. “No.”

“Come on, pay up, or else I ain’t tellin’ you.”

“Fuck, fine. You’re a mean one.”

“If you say Mr Grinch I’m taking two.”

“No!”

He grins widely, perfect straight teeth coming into view. As he leans forward to snatch the bag away, you get a whiff of his scent and witness how perfectly his dark locks fall forward. Fuck, what kind of super genes did the Millers possess? How are they both so effortlessly attractive? It’s sometimes easy to forget that Tommy can be classified as good-looking since the two of you tend to give each other hell most of the time. But during those short moments where you get a good look at him? It’s devastating.

Tommy holds out the bag and stuffs the cinnamon roll into his mouth, his jaw moving.

“You really not gonna share it with Maria? It’s a miracle your spine isn’t broken from sleeping on the couch.”

He takes the roll out of his mouth and takes a proper bite, “I’m a fuckin’ delight to be around and she’s not home.” You take the bag and as you do, stick out your tongue. “Brat. Your loverboy is at the tree farm cuttin’ up trees. Tell him I say hi and he should find me later.”

“I’m not his secretary.”

“It’s almost like you want me to take all your treats.”

The smell of pine fills your lungs and you’re grateful. You adore the smell. The freshness and sweetness of it mixing with the crispness of snow. You’re honestly amazed at how organized the tree farm is. Tall, lush pine trees in perfect order as you walk between them. Lights have been strung up temporarily, the wires that tie them together so thin that it almost looks like they’re hanging from the sky. They must look beautiful during the night.

It takes you a while to find Joel. He’s in the back and you approach him silently. That wasn’t your initial intention, being snuck up on is never fun. But the way he’s chopping wood makes your insides feel all runny and warm. You didn’t know he additionally chopped firewood as well. He lifts the axe and throws it down, sweat beading on his forehead. The sleeves of his flannel are rolled up, exposing the sinewy muscle of his forearms to your gaze. He cuts down another log, it becomes two in one swift motion. Your mouth dries and tongue rushes out to wet your lips. Your mind cruelly reminds you of the night you kissed him, how good it had felt to have him pressed against you, claiming you—

“Why don’t you bring a damn camera next time, it’ll add to the whole stalker pervert thing you have goin’ on right now.”

Okay. He’s joking. Joking is good, right? Joking means that he doesn’t think about covering your face with a pillow while you sleep. Your body tenses, the soft hairs scattered across your body rising with attention.

“Sorry,” you blurt out, the two of you standing only inches apart. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you but we need to talk.”

“I was wonderin’ when you’d come by. Sucks to be wrong doesn’t it?”

“How was I supposed to know people had nothing else better to do than talk about our non-existent relationship.”

Joel suddenly throws the axe down, impaling the sharp end into the wood, you jump, adrenaline humming in your ears. He ignores your very fair reaction and peels off his gloves, turning towards the bench, “Gee, only if someone had told you that people would talk.”

“Yeah, okay I deserve that.”

He sighs, “What do you want?”

“Like I’ve been saying since the day I realized who you are: to talk.”

“Fine. I was about to take a damn break anyway. Come on, now.”

You both sit on the ice-cold bench, he leans over and picks up a thermos. You’re surprised when he also pulls out two mugs, placing them on top of a clearly handmade bite-sized picnic table. Without a word, you quickly place your offerings as well, at least the ones Tommy had let you get away with, two cheese-stuffed bagels and one cinnamon roll. You frown when you look at it. You really wanted that roll.

“What’s this?” Joel asks, filling the mugs.

“I thought you’d be in better spirits with a full stomach.”

You almost earn a hint of laughter but the sound is quickly swallowed down. The traces of his smile still linger on the corner of his lips, “Well, at least you’re not dumb enough to come empty-handed.”

Ignoring him, you place your cold palms around the mug and take a sip. The fresh taste of lavender and honey coats your tongue. Your favorite. “Huh, weird,” you mutter.

“What? Does it taste funny?”

“No no. It’s just. . . Lavender tea is my favorite.”

“Go figure,” he takes a sip and scowls. “I’d rather have coffee.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you were a tea-loving man.” He grunts and picks up one of the bagels, taking a bite. “About the whole dating situation, I have a plan.”

He doesn’t acknowledge what you’ve said so you continue, “The plan is we fake it for a while, act like a couple, make everyone gush over us, then we break up, saying we wanted different things. That way no one digs into our pasts.”

“This is the weirdest way anyone has ever asked me out.”

You snort, “I’m not asking you out. The key word here is fake. Because if we just say we weren’t dating at all, people are going to wonder why you had me up against a wall. And unless you want to tell people you were threatening me. . .” you give him a look but he’s staring at the horizon, chewing thoughtfully on his bagel. You think he’s scowling but you’re not sure. “I think this is the best way.”

He swallows the last bite and glares at his mug before taking another sip of his tea, he wrinkles his nose. “How would we have to be around each other? I haven’t exactly been datin’ around that much.”

“I was six when the outbreak happened. I’m pretty sure your guess is better than mine.”

That finally catches his attention, his eyes widen, the furrow between his brows deep, “Six?” he repeats.

“Yeah.”

You’re used to people being surprised. Most like you haven’t survived. And your references to the past always made you seem older than you were, you preferred it that way. The less people could guess about you the better. Your mom and dad always paid extra attention to tell you about the world before the cordyceps, reminding you that a life like that could still be your reality once again.

“Was. . .” Joel swallows, pulling you away from your parents. You reach for the other bagel and start eating, giving him time so he can just spit it out. “Was that your first kiss?”

There is something in his voice, an emotion very similar to guilt. You swallow your bite.

“No. It wasn’t.” And that’s all you have to say about that. It seems to be enough because he visibly relaxes, his shoulders dropping. You change the subject. Quickly. “I’m thinking we hold hands a bit, kiss each other on the cheek, and stuff like that. We can come up with rules if you want but I think it’s pretty straightforward.”

He nods. An oddly comfortable silence stretches out. You finish your bagel and drain the rest of your tea.

“We should probably split this,” he says and pulls out a knife from his belt.

“Oh. . . you can have it.”

Joel chuckles, it isn’t quite a laugh but you still take it as a win. “I saw how you were oglin’ it. I ain’t gonna risk you biting my head off,” he cuts it into two and offers you the bigger half. A smile brushes against your lips. “Why didn’t you just get two?”

“I did!” you gasp, forgetting that the two of you aren’t lovers, not even friends. “Tommy took one as compensation for telling me where you were. By the way, he wanted me to tell you hi and that the two of you should meet up later.”

“Why ain’t he lettin’ me know his damn self. I know he ain’t doin’ shit today. You’re not my secretary.”

“That’s what I said!”

Another chuckle. You’re acing this.

“I’ll get him to pay you back, don’t worry.”

“You don’t have to,” you laugh. “It’s just a roll.”

“Well, you’re my girl now, aren’t you? It would be unboyfriend-like of me not to avenge my girl. If we’re gonna fake it, might as well do it right.”

My girl. Your cheeks grow warm. You know it’s not real, and that deep down he most likely despises your existence that threatens his peace but still, it’s good to belong. Even if it’s not real. Even if it’s a lie. Your brain tricks your body into feeling whole for a brief moment, that internal coldness you’ve been feeling since the day your parents died melting ever so lightly, the warm water that drips over the icy exterior, warming your stomach.

“Tell him he owes me two then,” you say, barely above a whisper. “The bakery rarely makes them you know, cinnamon is hard to make.”

He nods but doesn’t add anything else. The crinkles soften at the corner of his eyes, lips looking soft and pliant. You might’ve even dared enough to say that he looks at peace.

You stand and leave, taking a mental note to bring him more treats from now on.

You successfully fool yourself into believing it’s for his sake and not yours.

Joel enjoys the cold. He always knew he would but was never allowed to say it since he never lived in the cold. He hated that argument. Sure he lived in Austin his entire life but that didn’t mean he didn’t ache for a bit of chill. Even at the end of the world, when he barely had enough to cover his back, he found himself enjoying the little things. The fresh, crisp air, the snow crunching under his boots.

The silence.

Sometimes he wonders if he likes it so much because it reminds him of death and considering all the seasons, winter is the one where he is closest to it. Closest to Sarah. He does hope she’s someplace warmer now. He’s not a man of faith, but for her, he’ll believe there’s an afterlife where nothing but good and butterflies exist.

Joel also feels closest to her when he’s with Tommy. His brother is the only one who knew her, the good in her. He was the one who was there when the world was stripped away from such a kind being, and he was there when she was buried under the world she could always see the best of.

As Joel walks up to the porch the brothers' eyes meet, it’s true that uncles resemble the kids. Sometimes if the light hits him just right, Joel could see a bit of her in him.

“You owe her two rolls,” Joel huffs, sitting on the empty chair beside Tommy.

“I don’t know what she told you but we had a very fair exchange, I don’t owe your little girlfriend shit,” he grins, not noticing the way Joel frowns at the label. “Nice to see the guard dog in you hasn’t died out.”

“I ain’t a guard dog.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Just bring her two tomorrow and I’ll owe you one favor.”

Tommy’s grin only widens, “You must really want to impress her.”

Joel fights the urge to roll his eyes. This whole arrangement is going to be a pain in the ass, he can sense it.

“Fine, tell pecan I’ll have her goods Friday. I doubt I’ll be able to wake up early enough to get it tomorrow but you owe me one Joel.”

“Why the hell do you call her Pecan anyway? That ain’t her name, you dumbass.”

“It’s because she has a hard shell but nice and soft on the inside.” Joel’s shoulders raise and he swallows thickly around the knot forming in his throat. He remembers the way you tasted on his tongue. How soft you were against him, no hard shell in sight. Tommy has no idea just how soft you are and can be. His cock twitches under the denim. He hates himself for it. “You should bring her to the party tonight.”

“Huh?”

“That party, Joel,” Tommy playfully smacks his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you forgot already. You promised to come.”

Oh yeah. Fuck. He really doesn’t want to go and deal with all the eyes he already knows will be on him. And you.

“Yeah, ‘course I remember. I’ll be there.”

“Just you?”

Joel sighs, “And her. We’ll be there.”

“You know, I’m truly happy for you brother. You deserve to be happy with someone who appreciates you.”

The words sting but he can’t do anything about it. He looks away, eyes staring at the snow-covered trees. “I don’t like being at the center of attention.”

“It’ll die out. The lonely bachelors are just jealous. Don’t mind them.”

Joel doesn’t need to ask to know what he’s talking about. You’re nearly half his age, six when the damn world came to an end. He knows people are wondering how the hell an old man like him got a girl like you, as if your age is the only reason to be with you. Not that he would know. None of this is real after all. You don’t appreciate him like Tommy suggested, maybe grateful for not putting a bullet between your eyes but that’s pretty much it. The same goes for him. He doesn’t know you—other than that you enjoy lavender tea with heaping amounts of honey and cinnamon rolls.

“I won’t, Tommy. No need to worry.”

When you hear a loud knock at the door, you’re staring at your reflection in the mirror. Ever since the kissing mishap with Joel, you’ve been a bit more conscious of what you look like. You’ve never had a reason to care much about it before and you’re not sure you like being this aware of every little flaw now.

Walking to the door, you’re not sure who to expect. You don’t have many friends other than Tommy and Maria, you’re already on alert, grabbing a small knife from the kitchen. Old habits die hard.

What you weren’t expecting is to see a distressed Joel Miller.

“Didn’t figure you knew where I lived.”

“I’m the brother-in-law of the woman in charge, of course I know where you live. I know where everyone lives.”

You lift an eyebrow and lean against the door frame, his eyes drop to the knife but fear is the furthest thing in his features, “Still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“There’s a party at Tommy’s and he wanted me to invite you.”

An involuntary groan escapes your lips, Tommy knew you didn’t want to go. The fucker.

“And let me guess, I have to go because we’re a couple.”

“Don’t give me attitude it was your idea, not mine.”

He’s right, “Fine. Come in and I’ll change so we can leave.”

“What’s wrong with what you’re wearin’ right now?”

You try not to hide yourself behind the door as his eyes sweep you from top to bottom. Inherently, there isn’t anything wrong with what you’re wearing. It's just your typical jeans, sweater, and a dark green flannel thrown on top. You’re warm and cozy.

“Isn’t this a party?”

“What do you think they’ll be wearin’? Suits and fancy dresses?”

“I guess you’re right, I’ll get my jacket.”

Feeling warmer than normal, you lock the door and the two of you head to Tommy’s. “So, should we. . . talk about what we’re gonna do or say?”

“Say?”

Joel shrugs, “You know, if they ask us how we met or somethin’.”

“I think half the town knows how we met, Joel.”

“A’right, so our story is that I helped you down, had a couple of drinks, and decided we like each other?”

“Sounds iron proof to me.”

“This is fuckin’ stupid.”

“I don’t see you coming up with any plans.”

“Wouldn’t even be in this mess if not for you.”

The harsh bite in his tone makes you take a step back without thinking. You’ve seen this man kill with ease. He’d admitted to regret leaving you alive. Fear is an irrational thing. It’s something that lingers and stays even when the initial threat has been evaded. You’re still afraid despite knowing you don’t have to be. You’ve been enjoying your little talks, you’ve been enjoying spending time with him. Internally you’re conflicted and confused.

Joel slows down along with you, turning and checking just how far you’ve fallen behind. He stops and turns, eyes taking in the furrow of your brows, the running of your nose. You don’t flinch when he touches your cheek, his gloved hand soft against your skin. He’s so gentle. So gentle that it almost hurts.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you. Promise,” he lets out a steady breath, fixing you with a leveled gaze. “I might not trust you or even like you, but I won’t hurt you.”

Your eyes widen, heart thudding loud enough that you’re positive he can hear it. Without a word you nod, tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. Joel nods back. His hand deserts your cheek and he locks your arms together, tugging you along the snow.

You believe him when he says he won’t hurt you. As foolish as that might be.

Two hours into the party and still all everyone can talk about is Joel and his new girlfriend. Even goddamn Maria had asked about it. Joel is still recovering from his sister-in-law’s interest in the matter. You were a definite natural in faking it. Unlike him, who was already exhausted from it all. It’d been a long couple of hours of holding hands, standing close, and kissing cheeks.

He’s holding a glass of the finest whiskey he’s ever had since the world ended, surrounded by familiar faces and his brother. You had scurried off somewhere. To the bathroom, he thinks. Or helping Maria with organizing. He probably should’ve asked, but he’s not used to questioning people unless it’s Ellie. But since the two of you are “dating” he suppose he should’ve.

“Yo Miller.” Joel fights the urge to groan as Wellington approaches with a raised hand. He slaps him on the shoulder, his cheeks and nose red and warm thanks to the alcohol. “You gotta tell me your secret.”

Joel sends Tommy a questioning gaze, his bother only shrugs. “‘Bout what Wellington?” he sighs.

“About catchin’ such a fine piece of ass.”

Joel’s shoulders raise, nostrils flaring as anger boils in his gut, but before he can get out a word Tommy intervenes, “Wellington.”

“What?” he slurs, turning to the younger Miller. “We’re all thinkin’ it. How old is she huh? Like half your age?”

Joel feels sick when the man grins. Wellington ain’t lying, you are half his age. Realistically, someone like you would never go for him. An old man who’s lost so much in his lifetime. But of course, he can’t say that, he can’t say anything that might out them as liars.

“Shut your goddamn mouth,” Joel grunts, pushing Wellington’s hand off his shoulder. “Or I’ll shut it for you.”

“I’d say money but that don’t exist anymore,” Wellington continues. “So what is it?”

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up—

“Joel?”

Your voice cuts through the tension like a knife. Everyone who’s in-ear shot of the conversation stills, an icy cold wind enveloping all of them, including Tommy. Joel recognizes the look of worry in his brother’s eyes. The older Miller swallows thickly as he rips his glare away from Wellington—he’s surprised that despite the amount of alcohol in his veins he looks ashamed.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

You shudder in a way only he notices. You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Your body subtly going straight and then relaxing. He wonders how much you’ve heard, or rather if you heard.

“I need some help in the kitchen, could you?”

“Uh, yeah sure. Of course.”

He ignores Tommy’s snicker and follows you through the crowd, away from the sight of Wellington and others. You stop at the threshold of the kitchen, not going in. You lean against the door frame and look away. “Sorry, I don’t actually need help. It just looked like you needed saving.”

“That bad, huh?”

“If looks could kill, Wellington would be dead thrice.” You say it so nonchalantly that he smiles, Joel mimics your stance and leans against the other side of the doorframe, leaving only little distance between you two. “What did he say?”

So you didn’t hear. Good.

“Nothin’ that you need to concern yourself with. He’s just buggin’ me, that’s all.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Didn’t really look like it was just buggin’.”

The subtle accent change at the end of your sentence makes him laugh, you shake your head but he sees the way your lips quirk into a smile.

“You makin’ fun of me sweetheart?”

“. . . Maybe.”

“That’s the type of talk that’ll get you in trouble you know.”

Your smile widens into a grin, “With whom?”

“Keep it up and you’ll find out.”

It’s been a long time since he felt like this. The enjoyment of the tug and pull. Heat spreads from the small of his back and reaches all the way to his groin. You must’ve had a couple of drinks before asking for him. You lean closer, your lips deliciously curled as mischief glimmers in your eyes. He wonders if you thought about the kiss. How close your bodies were that night.

“Be careful Miller,” you say, rolling your tongue over each syllable. “Almost sounds like you want me to keep it up.”

God, that he does. He’s starting to get hard. Without even thinking he leans a bit closer as well, tilting his head as if he’s about to kiss you. Your eyes flash with something expectant—

“KISS!”

The delicate moment shatters with reality. You’re not flirting, you can’t, because technically you’re already dating. Joel hates the way you flinch at the sudden crowd shouting. His head whips towards them, only to see Tommy taking charge, he points to something above and both of your heads snap up like a cartoon.

“Mistletoe,” he says. Lowering his gaze, he gives you a quick smile. “You know what that means, right sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, “I do, jerk.”

“Brat.”

He almost laughs at the way your lips quickly wound shut. The crowd is getting restless.

“Don’t y’all have anythin’ better to do?” Joel quips.

“Nope!”

The echoes of kiss kiss kiss only get louder from there. Joel sighs, “I don’t think we can escape them.”

“If I had a penny every time we had to kiss to appease a crowd. . .” you whisper. He expects you to continue but you don’t, instead you place your hands on his cheeks, holding him gently. You come closer and as does he, his hands slide to your hips, tugging you flush against him.

You’re so soft. Softer than he deserves.

Unlike the first time, he takes the lead. He pushes you until your back is pressed against the doorframe, he claims your lips with a need he fearfully admits he doesn’t have to fake. He squeezes your hips, the sound of the crowd awing them fading into the background. It’s just his lips that move, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to feel your tongue against his. To feel the quiver of your naked body as he fills you to the brim, kissing you and telling you just how much he enjoys being inside you.

He swallows your tiny moans and whimpers, and as he breaks away, he pulls at your bottom lip with his teeth. You’re breathless when you meet his gaze, sharp eyes glazed over with a fog of arousal.

Then, as the crowd claps, he presses the side of his face against your ear, “Just a taste,” he whispers and feels your tremble underneath his palms. “Of what’ll happen if you keep it up.”

“That was one hell of a party,” you muse. You’re staring at the dark horizon, snow gently falling from the sky. Joel pushes a warm mug of tea between your hands.

“It’s still goin’ on,” he says.

“You’d die if you just let me live in my blissful bubble wouldn’t you?”

“Sure would.”

You let out a snort as he settles near you, your shoulders brushing against one another. You have to admit, it’s been a fun night—and not only because of the kiss. That was just a bonus. A very hot and steamy bonus.

It felt too real to be fake. Too real to be nothing. Years you had been alone and now you were sampling what it meant to have someone care for you, to tease you. He doesn’t even know you yet you two fit together like a glove and a hand. Makes you wonder how different this could all have been if he hadn’t been Ellie’s father, and you hadn’t been a part of the Fireflies.

“Oh good you’re still here.” The two of you turn to see Tommy, his cheeks a little flushed and his breath a little uneven. “I need to ask you two somethin’.”

“What now?” Joel groans, prompting a smile from you.

“You heard of the new family in town? The one with two kids?” You have no idea but Joel seems to know who they are. He nods. “We don’t have a house ready for them yet so I was thinkin’. . .” his eyes flicker between yours and Joel’s, your stomach going tight with worry. “You two can live together till we’re finished with the construction.”

“What?”

The question leaves your mouth before you can properly register. You turn to Joel but much to your surprise, he seems unfazed.

“Just for a while,” Tommy says. “I just figured since you two are already datin’. . .”

Joel ignores his brother completely to fave you, “Your call sweetheart.”

Seeing him so calm makes you ashamed of your initial reaction. You’re not even sure why you reacted so brashly. It was a simple request. A logical one.

“Yeah sure, that’s okay,” forcing a smile, you turn to Tommy. Joel’s touch is soothing behind you, hand rubbing small circles at the base of your spine. A welcome comfort. “Just let me grab my things and you can set them up tomorrow.”

“You’re the best, pecan,” Tommy glows, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll give Maria the good news.”

Joel’s hand deserts you almost immediately when his brother is out of sight. It makes your heartstrings tug. “You sure about this?” he asks. “It would be fine if I lived alone but Ellie is a curious one and she’ll figure it out if we ain’t convincin’ enough.”

“In all honesty, I had completely forgotten about Ellie,” you let out a deep exhale. “But I guess that’s fine. I’m sure we can pull it off. It’s not like I could say no.”

His gaze softens, “You could’ve asked to stay somewhere else.”

“No. . . It’s fine, Joel. Really,” you crack a smile. “I feel like I should be asking if you’re alright with it. You’re the one with the problem with me being around Ellie.”

“I’ll have my eye on you two,” he says a bit too quickly for comfort.

Your tongue sours, “I’m not going to tell her anything.”

Joel doesn’t say anything. Or even acknowledges that he’s heard you. He leaves you on the porch, following his brother’s footsteps, you’re left with nothing but a lukewarm mug of tea.

Then you notice it’s lavender.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfic

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chocochipsushi · 2 months

Text

𝐌𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐠

SFW

🌸Word count: 6.4k words

🌸AU: your soulmate is a huge, grumpy fart who shows you and only you affection, and though he hates his best friends, you think you've found soulmates in them too

🌸Pairing: Toji x reader, SatoSugu

Part 2 >>

You always catch guys staring until Toji walks up to you with a hand on the small of your back. Then, the guys start to panic internally, looking away to avoid trouble with such a huge man. But their gazes will always return to watch the both of you. Everyone is always intrigued by your relationship.

You’re the tiniest little thing next to Toji, just standing nestled at his side, your hand resting on his beefy arm, his rugged body pressed up against yours. You’re not even that small to begin with. But his body is so big, chiseled and intimidating, that you‘re like a doll next to him. He looks so much like a guard dog whenever you’re together, because of how he towers and hovers over you.

“Can you help me get that, Toji?”

He looks up to what you’re pointing at and immediately lets go of you to step closer to the shelf. “This one?”

He easily reaches for the pair of scissors that is barely even touchable for you. He turns his head to see you grinning up at him as you bob your head. Toji grasps the package and brings it down to pass it to you.

“Gojo needs a new one because he misplaced his,” you explain, taking it from him before wrapping your arm around his.

“Shitty bar owner,” Toji mutters under his breath.

You laugh as you go up to the counter to have it paid for. As you pass the scissors to the cashier, you look up at Toji and scold, “He is your best friend, Toji!”

Immediately your boyfriend pulls out his card from his back pocket to pay for the item. The cashier is watching the both of you quietly. Toji shrugs at your reminder. “So? What kind of bar owner can’t even keep a pair of fucking scissors?”

Once the payment goes through, he snatches the new pair of scissors out of the cashier’s hand. The poor boy is so terrified and surprised by Toji’s roughness that he is surprised when you thank him with a sweet smile, and start walking out of the line. The amazed cashier is watching you lead the way, and he cannot help making parallels to you walking your scary guard dog that only listens to you and no one else.

The power you hold over such a huge and fearsome man could possibly make you easily twice as scary as Toji is. Because even the blind could tell that this crude and stoic man would do anything just to see you happy and safe. There is no other reason for the soft spark that ignites in his eyes every time your name is mentioned.

“Where’s The Grump?”

You hop up the bar stool and place the new pair of scissors on the counter. Grinning at Gojo, you answer, “Parking his bike. He’ll come.”

“Oh, damn, thought it was just you.” Gojo blows a raspberry as he snatches up the stationery. “I could really do without his stale attitude today.”

“Or ever,” his partner next to him chimes in.

Gojo points at Geto with a nod and an eyebrow raise in your direction. “I feel so bad you got him as your soulmate.”

Geto stops mixing whatever drink he is making to give you a look. “How do you even live with such a cranky old fart like that? Seriously.”

You laugh. “He's not that bad.” When you see the both of them giving you the same exact look, you laugh even harder. “Really! He’s actually very nice.”

“Yeah, maybe to pretty girls,” Gojo scoffs.

Geto makes a face and disagrees with his partner, “Actually… no. Have you seen the way he looks at girls that try to hit on him?”

Gojo thinks about it for a moment before he nods. “You got a point.” He looks at you. “So it’s just you that he's nice to. How does it feel to be God’s favourite?”

You giggle. “Toji is not a god!”

Gojo stares at you for a moment, then turns to his soulmate. He wonders, “Oh, is he nice to her because she’s an airhead?”

“Hey!” You stand on the leg rest on your stool to reach over and snatch the new pair of scissors off his hand. You frown at him. “That’s mean! I’m not dumb!”

Geto leaves from behind the bar counter with the freshly made order and before he makes his way to the customer’s table, he pats your head and bumps your cheek with the back of his fingers. “Yes, you are, but in a cute way.”

“Yes, so cute,” Gojo coos, reaching over to ruffle your hair. “Can I have my scissors back, my pretty baby?”

“I’m not a baby,” you huff, though you thrust the stationery in his direction anyway.

He grins as he takes it from you, using the back of the scissors to tap the top of your head lightly before he retracts his hand. You’re huffing and complaining about the two bar owners bullying you while Satoru simply laughs endearingly at your grumbles. You are still frowning at him when you suddenly hear a commotion behind you, so you turn around, only to see your boyfriend standing next to Geto with their broad backs to you, looking at a spot in the corner, perplexed and frustrated.

As if sensing your gaze, your soulmate turns around and spots you at the bar counter. Even from afar, you can see the way his eyes light up. He holds his arm out in your direction and makes a come-hither motion. So you jump off the stool and walk over to the two men. Suguru has now turned to watch you make your way over.

“Geto slapped me on the back with the stupid tray and my keys flew in there. Pick it up for me, will you, baby?”

You immediately nod your head. Suguru and Toji are too broad and muscular to fit into a small space like this, and it is always your job whether at home or at the bar to squeeze into nooks and crannies to retrieve a lost item, just like how it is Toji’s responsibility to reach for anything that is out of your reach (which is usually things in the overhead cupboard). You’d once been so afraid of his size but now you’re comforted by it, and your dynamic that used to be a mystery and a worry to you now works so well that either of you wouldn’t know what to do without the other.

Without another word, you get down on your knees and hands. You hear some rustling behind you and when you check, you see Geto pulling the apron from around his waist and Toji doffing his black leather jacket, the both of them holding their respective materials to conceal your behind since you are in a skirt. You look away and return to crawling closer to the tight space. You go lower and stretch your hand out into the darkness, at the same time sliding almost half your body into the cranny.

You reach around for the bunch of keys and easily find it. You fish it out and sit on your heels, grinning up at Toji as you hold his keys out to him. He is only looking at you as he takes them from your hand, his free hand already reaching down to yank you up. Once you’re standing in front of him, Toji reaches behind you to pull down on your skirt and brush it down.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he murmurs before bending to brush the dirt off your knees, the side of his neck bared and close to your face.

“Okay, move outta the way, I have more customers coming in,” Geto grumbles, staring up the stairs where some people are walking down to the underground bar.

You grab Toji’s arm and pull him to the bar counter where you had been sitting. He helps you up on the stool and goes around the counter where Gojo is making some cocktails, to wet a piece of tissue. He returns and stands in front of you, wiping your hands and knees with the wet tissue.

“Thank you, Toji,” you mumble, watching him take care of you.

He simply shakes his head. He goes behind the bar counter again to bin the tissue and wash his hands. At that time, a couple of guys come over to stand next to you at the bar counter. Gojo has gone to the kitchen, so Toji decides to help out for a bit. He dries his hand and stands before them, placing his hands on the counter, his broad shoulders looking more intimidating than ever.

“Yes?” he gruffs out.

“Two whiskey sours,” one of the men orders. He turns to you and gives you a flirty smile. He orders again, “And a mojito for this beautiful lady, please.”

You are surprised. You take a quick glance at Toji, only to be even more surprised that he is already making the order. He is always so protective over you and hates when guys so much as turn their heads in your direction.

Quickly, you turn back to the guys and decline the drink, “Oh, no, thank you but that’s okay!”

“No, please. A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be sitting here alone with no man and no drink,” the other one of them chuckles.

You look at Toji again, and though he is concentrating on mixing the drinks, you can clearly see the tick in his jaw. You swallow and shake your head. Smiling politely at the two men, you say, “Oh, no, I came with my boyfriend.”

“Well, he's gone, isn’t he? We can still be friends.”

Just then, Geto returns to man the counter and you see him glancing between you and the two men, then you hear him asking Toji to stop what he's doing. But Toji is quiet and somber as he simply shakes his head. Suguru looks at you and quirks an eyebrow, looking quite perplexed. He knows just how protective Toji can get when it comes to you. This reaction of his is totally new.

“So what's your name?” the guys prod.

You give an awkward chuckle. “I have a boyfriend,” you reiterate, hoping they get the hint.

“We’ll leave when he gets here.”

“Yeah, and you can tell him that you got yourself the drink.”

You’re simply staring at the two men, speechless at how disrespectful and pushy they are, when two glasses are slammed on the counter in front of them. They jump a little and turn back to the bartender in annoyance, only to drop the arrogance when they see that it is Toji.

“Two whiskey sours,” he grunts. He then gently places a cocktail, that is definitely not mojito, in front of you.

“Hey, we asked for a mojito for her.”

Toji looks them dead in the eyes and spits out, “I know my girl more than you do, and she doesn’t drink mojitos. That’s $50 for the three drinks, card or cash?”

The two men’s eyes widen into the sizes of saucer plates. Their eyes flicker between Toji and you, and when Toji quirks his eyebrows at them, they pull out their card in a nanosecond and scurry off the moment the drinks are paid for.

When they’re gone, Geto turns to Toji with his hip leaning against the counter and his arms crossed over his chest. He looks amused. “Wow. Toji Fushiguro is a changed man. No more punching men in the face whenever they speak to your little girlfriend?”

Toji washes his hands and dries them as he mutters, “I would have. Just figured since they wanted to pay for her drink, I’d just hold back.”

You giggle while Geto makes a face jokingly. “Stingy ass.”

Toji comes round to the front again where he sits next to you, bringing his chair close to you. He spreads his legs so that you’re between them, and rests his foot on the footrest of your stool, almost like he is protecting you.

“Whiskey on the rocks,” he tells Geto, who is already pulling out the bottle of his favourite whiskey. Toji always gets the same thing.

You take a sip of the cocktail in front of you and turn to your soulmate, who is already watching you. “Mm. Apple pie!” He nods his head, quiet with his eyes still on you. You beam at him. “Yummy!”

He still doesn’t say anything. He simply watches you for a few seconds before reaching a beefy hand out to cup your face. Before he even gets to stroke his thumb on your cheek, Geto slaps a coaster down on the counter in front of his best friend and places a full cup of whiskey on it.

“Stop being gross,” is all he says.

Gojo pushes through the door of the kitchen with two plates balanced on his palms. “Suguru, table 17 and 4, please.”

Geto is already taking the plates off him as he mumbles, “Got it.”

He goes off to bring the food to the tables so that it is just Gojo in front of you and Toji. He grins at you. “Wanna go to a party when we close tonight?”

You glance at Toji, who has dropped his hand from your face to pick up his drink. You turn back to his friend. “Sure. Whose place?”

“Shoko’s.”

Toji is out of his element. He hates socialising, especially at a party. People just drain his energy, even Satoru and Suguru are no exception. The only person he doesn't mind— or rather, wants to be together with all the time is you. But you are the opposite of him. Everything about the both of you are opposites.

You enjoy being with people. You’re loud all the time, and you attract people like moths to a flame. You could be standing there minding your own business and yet still have someone approaching you. You’re just a people person and Toji is not. Which is why, Toji grabs onto your wrist when you start to drift a little too far from him.

“Where are you going?” he questions quietly. Only you can sense the mild panic in his voice.

You smile. “I was gonna go get us a drink.” You pat his hand that is still holding onto you. “Wait here, okay?”

His eyes dart around the place and as if a saviour has appeared, he quickly lets go of you and stands up to grab a hold of Gojo who had been walking away. Satoru stumbles back, surprised and confused.

“Get us a drink on your way back, will ya,” Toji mutters.

Satoru frowns at him. “I’m going to the bathroom, dickhead.”

“Stop by the drinks station on your way back and get us something, then.”

“Why can’t you do it yourself?”

Deciding to end this bickering, you place a hand on each of their chest. The two men huff at each other before turning to you. You tell Toji first, “Let’s go get the drinks together, okay?” Then you turn to Gojo. “And you can come find us when you’re done.”

“What for—”

“She said come find us when you’re done,” Toji repeats in a grunt.

Gojo turns to you wide-eyed like he is saying, “Did you see what he just did to me?” But you simply grin up at him and pat his chest before turning around and flouncing off in the direction of the drinks station. Toji follows behind you, but not without a flick to his ear by Gojo.

“What do you want to drink?” you question when you’re standing in front of a whole bunch of different alcohol types.

You’re reaching out for a cup when Toji interjects and pushes you away gently as he takes over your spot. You look up at him and he says, “I’ll mix you something. Just go to the fridge and get me a beer, will you, sweetheart?”

You do as he asked you to and when you’re back, he is pouring cranberry juice into your cup. You exchange your drinks once he is done with the concoction and you mix the liquid in your cup with your finger. You’re about to put it in your mouth to lick your finger clean, but your wrist is caught in Toji’s grasp. You look up at him, surprised and confused. But he simply brings your finger up to his mouth, where he sucks on your soaked digit.

“Yep, you’re gonna like that,” he compliments his own drink mixing skill with a cocky eyebrow raise and a smirk.

You immediately erupt in flames but you take a sip of your drink quietly. He is right, of course. Toji knows just how you like your drinks. He knows you too well.

Toji takes a sip of his beer as he leans against the kitchen counter. Just then, Gojo and a bunch of his noisy friends come streaming through the kitchen door and head over to your group. The two bar owners have really good alcohol tolerance but you know that they’ve definitely drank a bit too much by how loud they’re being. You move closer to your boyfriend, somehow managing to stand between his legs and be engulfed in his body.

“We’re going to the club. Wanna join?”

You frown at Gojo as Toji takes a swig of his beer. “Now? We just got our drink,” you whine.

“Chug it, then.” Suguru raises his brows at the man behind you. “You have a bodyguard to take care of you.”

You turn and look up at Toji, who simply stares back at you. He is not the most sociable person but if you wanted to socialise, he’d step out of his comfort zone for you.

“I don’t know…” you mumble, turning back to your friends. “I’m not feeling it—”

“Oh, you’re a lightweight!” Satoru snarks. “Down that cup and you’ll be feeling it in a minute!”

“Drink, drink, drink!”

Your friends start chanting and suddenly you’re pressured by a group of four to skull an entire cup of alcohol. You feel Toji standing straighter behind you, probably ready to snap at them for being a bad influence. Quickly, you instinctively down the drink and all your friends start cheering you on.

“Baby!” Toji hisses. He snatches the cup out of your hand but you’ve already finished three-quarters of it. “We could have just gone home,” he groans. You simply stare up at him as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “You’re so stupid.” Your lips fall into a pout and he immediately softens the frown on his face. “Baby,” he sighs, this time concerned.

A hand lands on your shoulder and you’re suddenly pulled away from Toji. “Oh, stop worrying, lover boy,” comes Satoru’s taunt. “We always take good care of our little baby, don’t we?” he coos as he leans down to press his cheek to yours, grinning annoyingly at your soulmate.

You are having so much fun and you’re so glad you came. The club is packed, the music is good, and the energy is electric. You’re dancing and singing along to all your favourite songs with all your friends, the whole bunch of you loud and having the best times of your lives.

Except for Toji.

He is standing by the bar, keeping his eagle eyes on you so he doesn't lose sight of you, as he sips on his fourth glass of whisky. If you’re a lightweight, you’d best bet that your soulmate is the opposite. Someone has to be sober enough to take care of you.

It isn’t about his sobriety either, actually. Being the soulmate to a young girl who is over 10 years younger than he is, Toji just finds it refreshing to see how much energy you have in your little body. He is way past the age to be drinking just to party but he doesn’t want to rob his soulmate of this time in your life where you can party all night long and still not suffer any consequences the next day.

It is your third time being approached by a boy, trying to dance with you. But like what you’ve done with the previous two, you point to Toji, who tips his glass in your direction with a quirk of his eyebrow. And just like the previous two times, this boy is frightened by how intimidating your boyfriend is and immediately takes his leave.

It’s been an hour and a half in the club, and you’re starting to feel partied out. Leaving your friend group, you squeeze your way out to find Toji, who meets you halfway, not wanting to have you alone in the club even for just a few seconds. You immediately hug his arm and lean against his warm body.

“Ready to go home?” Toji shouts.

You nod your head. So he downs his drink and leaves it at the bar counter before finding his way out of the club with you latched on him. When you’re out, Toji takes his arm away from you to doff his leather jacket and hold it open for you. You wear it and you’re suddenly drowning in the jacket. You go back to hugging Toji’s arm. He has just fished his phone out to book a ride home when someone ruffles your hair.

Toji’s body stiffens and he looks up to glare at his possible victim when he notices Satoru grinning at the both of you. You rest your temple against Toji’s bicep as you look up at Gojo.

“Where is Sugu?” you mumble.

He throws his thumb over his shoulder. “Drunk.”

You rest your hand on Toji’s chest so you can tiptoe and take a look behind Gojo. While you’re watching Geto sitting on the pavement curb, head hung and propped up on his hands, Toji slips his arm out between the both of you to wrap around your body, pressing you to him. You circle an arm around his waist and rest your head on his chest.

“Are you guys going home now?”

You bob your head. “Tired,” you murmur.

Gojo groans as he glares at Toji like your boyfriend has offended him. He complains, “You’re so lucky your soulmate is half your size and easy to carry.”

Being the people pleaser that you are, you look up at Toji. “Oh, Toji! Why don’t you help—”

“No.”

You frown at him. “But why? You’re so strong.”

“Yeah, Toji. You’re so strong,” Satoru joins in, grinning.

“Shut the fuck up,” your boyfriend grinds out as he sets a deadly glare on his good friend. “Stop acting like you’re so weak.”

Gojo, now dropping his mockery tone, runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “You know Suguru is heavier than he looks. He's going to be hard to move around.”

“Baby,” you try again. You’re always so nice to your friends. “Help Toru get Suguru home. Or they could come over—”

“No,” Toji snaps.

You shut up, surprised at his tone. Hurt, you drop your hands away from Toji and take a step back, crossing your arms. But you know that you probably don't look intimidating at all, especially in your boyfriend’s huge jacket.

“Princess, you’re drunk and I’m tired—” he tries to say as he reaches out for you.

But you dodge his hand. “You’re so mean to your friends, Toji. I don't like it when you’re mean to them. And then you get mad at me.”

Toji’s gaze softens. “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart. You’re my priority. I want to take care of you.”

“But I’m fine!”

“You’re drunk, sweetheart.”

“I’m fine!” You stomp your foot.

Toji rubs his face tiredly. He locks his phone and shoves it back into his pocket in defeat. He stares at you. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to help Satoru!” you huff.

Gojo, while you were squabbling before him, is just staring at you in admiration and awe. He has never seen Toji so docile and tame, and nice before. You have a chokehold on him and it is so apparent who holds the upper hand in the relationship.

But Satoru suddenly feels cold and he just knows that Toji is glaring at him even before he turns to look at his best friend. Gojo smiles nervously. “Yes, Fushiguro?”

“You’re paying for the ride back home.”

You hold the door open for Toji and Satoru to lug in an unconscious Suguru, where they dump him on your couch. Satoru groans and Toji immediately leaves to go into your shared bedroom. You take off Toji’s jacket and hang it up, just in time for Toji to come back out to hand Gojo some extra blankets you don't use. Finally, the two men turn to you.

“Are we good now?” Toji mutters.

You bob your head meekly and he immediately goes into the bedroom. You look at Satoru, who gives you an encouraging look.

“Thanks, doll. Think you should call it a night.”

You nod your head and rush into the room where you hear the water already running in the bathroom. You quickly undress and join Toji in the shower. You watch him clean himself up silently, entirely ignoring you when he would normally be all over you.

“Toji?” you call weakly. He doesn’t answer you. You move forward to touch his torso as he rinses his hair. “Toji, can you wash my hair for me too?” you try.

He opens his eyes and lands his steely gaze on you. The moment he sees the kicked puppy look on your face, he feels his heart softening. “C’mere,” he mutters.

You’re excited at his invite, and you move to stand in front of him and turn your back to him. He takes the shower head and you tilt your head back so he can rinse your hair. Turning the water off, he starts lathering your hair with shampoo. In the silence, you feel even more nervous with this Toji. So you speak up.

“Are you mad at me, Toji?”

The question hangs in the air for a long while. Unable to take his silence anymore, you turn around so that you are facing him and his arms are stretched out to massage shampoo into your hair. Toji sees the small pout on your lips. He sighs.

“I just don’t understand why you have to be so nice. You were drunk and tired, too. It just pisses me off that you don’t ever think for yourself first.”

“But Satoru needed help…”

“What do you think he did before he even knew you? He’s just fucking with us.”

“What do you mean?” You frown at him. He's just so mean sometimes.

Toji stops massaging your scalp now and uses the remaining shampoo on his hands to wash his own hair. “I mean, he carried his fucking boyfriend home drunk plenty of times before. Might have taken him a while but he did it fine. He just makes use of you to get me to help him because he knows I would do anything you asked me to.”

You hear nothing but the last bit. You completely forget that you had thought he was mean. “Would you actually do anything I ask you to?” you murmur.

Toji narrows suspicious eyes on you. “Within means.”

You throw your arms around him at once, smushing your cheek to his firm chest. He grunts in surprise, quickly resting his hand on your shoulder blade. “I’m sorry I got mad at you for being mean to Toru,” you mumble.

Toji takes in a deep breath. “Yes, you should be.” You gasp and tilt your head up to pout at him. He has a cheeky glint in his eyes when he says, “You were going to get lucky in the morning but now you have two dumbasses in the living room.”

“What do you—” The innuendo behind his words finally hits you and your face glows red. “Princess fucked up?” you try to give him a cute pout.

Toji only laughs, his scarred lips stretching wide. He cups your chin and leans in to peck you on your lips. “Princess fucked up,” he agrees.

Despite Toji’s declaration last night, you still woke up lucky this morning. Not only because of Toji’s “Princess Treatment”, but also because Suguru and Satoru wanted to thank the both of you for letting them crash your place by cooking breakfast. Using the ingredients in your kitchen.

“Steak? For breakfast?!” Toji shouts.

Your soulmate buys at least 5kg worth of beef every week for his protein intake. It is expensive and he definitely would not be eating it as hangover food.

You giggle as you go over to Suguru’s side, hugging him as he cooks up a ton of sunny side up eggs. Satoru and Toji are bickering in the background. Suguru places a hand on the top of your head and leans down to kiss your hair.

“Thanks for getting Toji to help Satoru last night,” he murmurs.

You look up at him with a beaming smile. “Thank you for staying friends with Toji.”

He laughs and pats your head. “We stay only ‘cause of you, sweetheart. Now go prep the table. Breakfast’s almost ready.”

You do as he says, bringing out plates and cutlery for everyone. Before you even struggle with the weight of the ceramics, your boyfriend floats past you and picks them up instead. You follow after him like a duckling, standing there uselessly while he goes around the table to set up. When he’s done, Toji stands next to you as the both of you watch Gojo set glasses of water at the table. You stare up at Toji, who immediately looks down at you.

“I’ve never had steak for breakfast before,” you admit innocently.

Toji lets out a strangled groan and slumps over your body as he wraps his arms around you like you are his pillar of strength. “I fucking hate them, baby,” he confesses in a fake cry.

It makes you laugh because if anyone could ever get Toji to be so dramatic, it would definitely be his best friends. It is a side of his you never get to see when it is just the two of you.

You reach behind him and pat his back. “There, there, baby. We’ll buy more today.”

“No,” he says seriously now as he stands upright. You look up at him in surprise. “Satoru and Suguru are buying more today.”

Just then, the man with long, black hair walks towards the dining table with a plate piled with all the eggs you had in your fridge, all cooked perfectly. “We need to get groceries for our place anyway,” Suguru says. “We’ll buy yours too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Satoru sings as he skips over and drags his chair out to plop down on it. “Double date!”

You move to sit next to him as you laugh, amused. “At the supermarket?”

“Double date at the supermarket!” Satoru announces as he throws his arm around you the moment you get to the doors of the huge establishment.

Toji rolls his eyes next to you. Suguru comes over now and holds a basket out to your boyfriend. But he rejects it and insists, “I’m going to need a cart.”

So you’re walking down the condiments aisle next to Toji while Suguru and Satoru are discussing about sauces they need for a recipe they are planning to try out for the bar. You slip your arms around one of Toji’s and walk close to him. He moves to rest his elbows on the cart handle so that he is almost at your same height even though he has to basically walk with a hunched back.

As the both of you watch the two males in front of you squabbling about the qualities of brands, you briefly wonder, “Do you think we have soulmates for friends too?”

Toji hums and shrugs a shoulder. “Why’d you ask that?”

You guys halt when Gojo and Geto stop for a condiment. You let go of Toji and turn to him. Returning to his full height, he gazes down at you. “If we do, I really hope Satoru and Suguru are our soulmates,” you sincerely say.

Toji makes a face. “Those clowns?” You bob your head innocently. He turns to watch his two best friends throwing a sauce bottle back and forth as if it is a dynamite that might go off in the next minute. Toji finally turns back to you with an incredulously confused look. “Seriously? Those clowns?”

You reach out to thump his chest as you laugh. “I know you love them, Toji. You know, if we ever have kids, I want Toru and Suguru to be their godfathers.”

“Hell no, I’m not letting those idiots near my babies,” your soulmate immediately declares, shutting down all possible arguments as he turns to push the cart again.

You follow after him and grab hold of his shirt. “You’re so mean to our childrens’ godfathers, Toji.”

He glares at you, which only makes you giggle. He pushes your hand away from clutching onto his shirt and you are offended for a second before he slips his palm against yours, his fingers sliding between yours. He pulls you closer until you are bumping against him. You stare up at him, wondering why he did that.

“Should we ditch them?” he whispers as he eyes the two grumbling men.

You giggle. “Who’s gonna pay for our groceries then?”

He groans and sets his eyes on you. “Ugh. You’re right. They’re—”

“Hey! Who wants some cake and ice cream?” Satoru shouts in your direction. Immediately, you grin and raise your hand eagerly. He smiles back happily. “Let’s buy ingredients and make a strawberry shortcake at the bar!”

“We’re making them?” you groan at the same time Toji almost yells, “We’re spending more time together?!”

You’re watching the three men across the kitchen island. You’re given the easiest job, which is to cut up the strawberries, so you have plenty of time to watch Toji whip a bowl of cream while Suguru helps to pour in sugar at intervals, as Satoru mixes the cake mixture. You think it’s so cute how they’re gossiping about a mutual friend one moment and then bickering the next because flour has flown everywhere.

“Gojo!” Toji snaps as he stops mixing and looks down at his black shirt now dusted with flour.

Satoru goes over to him and fakes gasp, “Oh my God, I’m sorry!” He then dips his finger into Toji’s bowl and scoops up a dollop of whipping cream. He puts it into his mouth and moans. “Mmm. Yummy!”

“Satoru!” Geto scolds with a disapproving look on his face.

The white-haired man is making eye contact with an annoyed Toji who is glaring at him. He grins obnoxiously and lets his finger go for another dip. He then holds his finger out to his boyfriend. “It really is yummy.”

Despite the side glare that Suguru gives him, he still takes Satoru’s finger into his mouth and sucks on it. He flickers his eyes over to Toji, looking just a bit surprised. “Oh, it’s actually good.”

Your soulmate is just glaring at them and you just know that he is so close to blowing up. So you go over with a strawberry and dip it into the cream. You look up at Toji, who is squinting at you. You take a small bite from the side of the strawberry and let out a happy squeal.

“Mm!” You hold out the rest of the strawberry to your boyfriend. “Try it, Toji.”

He keeps glaring at you. So you bring the strawberry closer and bump his lip with the cream. He finally parts his lips and allows you to feed him.

You, Gojo, and Geto are standing there, staring up at the green-eyed man expectantly as he chews slowly, savouring the flavour. There is not a single hint from Toji if he enjoyed the whipped cream as much as we do. That is until he swallows and Satoru breaks the silence with a whisper, as if afraid to enrage a beast.

“So…? How is it?”

Toji is silent for a moment. Then he mutters, “It’s not bad.”

Satoru and Suguru let out relieved breaths. Gojo rounds the island to bring over the remaining uncut strawberries. He dips a strawberry into the cream as he says, “I dunno why you’re always so grumpy. Fushiguro.”

Suguru follows suit in eating strawberries covered in whipped cream. He adds, “Yeah. Can’t you just let loose a little?”

Satoru is now eating his third strawberry. His mouth is still full when he mumbles, “You’re like an old man in a young man’s body.”

Suguru is on his second strawberry now, making sure the berry is completely covered in cream as he comments, “Though he’s not that young.”

You watch Toji’s face turning darker by the second. Especially when Satoru agrees, “True. The only thing young about him is his cute little girlfriend.” You blush when he winks at you.

Toji decides that this is his final straw as he slams the mixing bowl down on the island and snaps, “I’m only four years older than the two of you, fuckwits!” As his two best friends gape at him in surprise at his outburst, he snatches Satoru’s fourth strawberry out of his hand and grunts, “And stop eating all the fucking cream if you’re gonna make a fucking cake. Dumbass.”

Then, he holds the berry out to you. Shyly, you take it and thank him. He steps out from between Geto and Gojo to go over to stand by your side, brushing your hair back so it doesn't get in the way as you munch on the strawberry. Satoru and Suguru are observing the both of you, and you can see Satoru glaring at you.

“You’re a bitch for stealing my best friend and pitting him against me,” he spits. But he is only eyeing at the strawberry in your hand.

You laugh. “Toru, just give up on the cake and eat the strawberries with the cream. We can make the cake another time.”

The suggestion sparks a glint of hope in his bright blue eyes and he immediately grins at you. “You’re the smartest bimbo ever. I love you as much as Toji loves you.”

Toji blows a raspberry and rolls his eyes. But you smile back at him. “I love you as much as Toji loves you too, Toru!”

Your soulmate immediately mumbles, almost concerned because he knows how much you love his best friends, "That's not a lot, babe."

At the same, Suguru also dramatically laments, “Oh, if only hate was love and bimbos were smart.”

Part 2 >>

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thevirgincherry · 2 months

Text

BLIND ITEM !

ft. og re4!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. actor au, smut, leon is an ass, some misogyny duh, reader vomits once like non-sexual context, breaking and entering, dub-con that turns to just consensual sex, only one threat of violence :3

note. comm for the sweetest ever @liableperfections / 🪩 anon :3 plot credit goes entirely to her literally had to cut so many words down it was 10k before bc i was so excited ab it so if it seems choppy I’m so sorry… 😭 ignore my attempt at navigating la.. it’s so confusing usa system is so confusing .. ignore any typos :3 feedback n rbs always appreciated!!! REPOST CUZ TUMBLR HATES ME.

Malibu Beach is a terrestrial paradise. A post-apocalyptic Eden of sorts ‘cause there’s no tree of knowledge or any apples— Only thing Malibu Beach and Eden have in common is the naked ladies. It’s the best part of both. Which to Leon is factually correct, but to be politically correct as Hunnigan, his PR manager, would say it’s an opinion.

No need for serpent-induced bedlam, hedonism is at its peak, the fall of man is in full swing. There’s more snow than grains of sand. Leon’s world comes to life in bottle greens and muted blues, water glittering like a diamond behind the dimmed lenses of his aviators.

He snags a cabana close to the shore, draping curtains to keep him safe from blinding cameras and prying eyes and drab women who are more naked than they are clothed. From afar it’s a great sight. Up close it’s a whole lot of cellulite and over-plumped lips and over-plucked brows. Leon’s not picky, his standards are not high, he’s only asking for the bare minimum. Nice face, nice ass, nice tits— It’s expected, but it’s not an expectation ‘cause that would mean girls have to try and live up to it, but most of them come that way. Well, they’re supposed to come that way, but some girls got a little busted on the flight over from heaven.

Ashley faces him, she should be careful when Leon’s around, he pulls on bikini strings more than he tugs on his own dick, and her bikini has started to look especially stringy.

“Can you get my back?” In the light, her lashes twinkle like gossamer wet with morning dew.

Don’t need to ask him twice. Leon’s hands traverse the plains of her back, he coats her skin in lotion like the finest of pâtissiers would a cake, angling the spatula downwards to smooth thick buttercream into pastel swirls of perfection. It’s only SPF10 ‘cause Ashley’s more focused on getting an even tan and less worried about skin cancer.

They’ve been hanging out between filming. Ashley pisses him off with her hoity-toity shit, someone swapped out her brains for that rack, but she’s hot so Leon keeps her around. And to be completely honest, his perpetual state of ennui had been smashed like brittle glass by Ashley alone. If it wasn’t for her, he’d still be riding the Raccoon City wave. Biggest blockbuster to come out of 1998. That’s a big feat. Competition was big names like Deep Impact, The Horse Whisperer— Oh, who is he kidding, nobody remembers that crap, but everybody remembers Raccoon City, the Resident Evil sequel that hit the ball out of the park.

The Resident Evil series is on its fourth instalment, and Ashley Graham insisted he come back to reprise his role; she wanted to act alongside Leon S. Kennedy and no one else. She stinks of money and Chanel Cristalle. Her dad is the studio head, so Leon’s kissing up to her, takes her cruising in his Bugatti Veyron up and down Rodeo Drive. They never breach the Platinum Triangle, he fears Ashley’s diaphanous skin would erode the moment unfiltered air hits her, melt off her bones in fleshly strings until there’s a skeleton rattling around in his passenger seat.

Ashley’s back is real nice. Like, the skin is super clear and creamy white and her shoulder blades stick out the same way a slinky feline’s do. If he could use anorexic as an adjective he would. Not quite, but almost.

“That feels so good, Leon.” He catches the tail end of the glance she casts over her shoulder, it’s flirty and he knows what’s coming next. Ashley’s spine straightens, skin pulled taut to the jagged bone, she twists her upper half and pouts directly at him. She pouts a lot for someone so scared of wrinkles. but when you’re this rich, the de-ageing secret is just Botox he guesses.

“C’mere,” Leon adopts a wider stance, spreading his thighs so she can curl up between them like a cosy pup in bed. “Hey, cutie.” He traces a thumb over her lips which are a milky shade of pink, fingers curling up beneath her chin to tilt her head up towards him.

She’s giving him bedroom eyes. Feathery lashes fanning his skin with the pace at which she bats them, like hummingbird wings beating against the wind. Leon is so going to get laid. Ashley’s nails rake over the sinewed flesh of his sculpted thighs, a testament to his athleticism, he does all his own stunts you know? Shit, he’s about to get the sloppiest head of all time, his dick is about to be degloved by that perfectly puckered pout, suction must go crazy—

In a single sweeping motion, the flimsy curtain is drawn back, fluttering in the same way Leon’s gut lurches. He can’t tell the difference between butterflies and nausea. It all feels the same to him. He half expects to be struck dumb by celestial flashes of camera light that gets him hotter than the sun.

However, in a much more pleasant turn of events, he spots a black whale tail that leads his sharp eyes to a bead of sweat dripping down a toned abdomen— Her belly button sticks out which Leon hates, but those tiny hotpants make up for her faults. They’re so short the flappy pockets are visible, distressed denim fringe brushing nice thighs that have got to mean an even nicer ass is right behind.

The face is even cuter. Round cheeks yet to shed baby fat, the apples smattered with charming freckles, her reddish ponytail is stiff with salt water. “Move,” she demands in a dictatorial fashion as if the world would bend to her will, rolling over and baring its belly like an appeased dog under her command.

Leon, against his better judgement, stays put. Who even are you, lady? The audacity of some girls, must be a fan of some kind. A clammy hand lands on his leg. Feels more like a dead fish left to rot on the docks. He shivers inwardly, prying sticky fingers off of him to clarify what the actual fuck is going on.

There’s a pretty girl in your peripheral. Not Claire. She’s not pretty in the way Claire is. She’s model pretty, might be a model or an actress or both, or neither. Just plain old pretty. But, it’s not plain, it’s extraordinary really. Polly Pocket dolly plucked from her compact home— Oh, gosh, your stomach is fucking killing right now.

Life is crazy, right? One minute you’re sucking face with a cute guy from Europe, and the next minute rotgut Mai Tais are not pairing well with the sweltering Malibu heat. And now you have reached the gates of heaven, fat-bellied clouds and Polly Pocket and something firm in your hand like a muscled calf. Not like a muscled calf, it is a muscled calf and it belongs to the most devastatingly handsome man you have ever laid eyes upon.

You anticipate the sprouting of wings from his back, the halo of Malibu sunlight that crowns his dirty blond hair to form an actual fucking halo. Holy fuck. You hope God can’t read your thoughts right now. Praying is out of the question, that’s like directly asking God not to press the big red button— Everyone presses the big red button, and then God would cast you down to hell in a fit of disgust. All ‘cause you want this angel to put your thighs to your chest and fuck you boneless with his seraphic dick.

“What the fuck, man?” Is the angelic knowledge he imparts upon your dying body. You feel like you’re being cooked alive, hot oil bubbling your skin.

“What is your problem, man?” Claire’s utterance comes at the same time.

“Hey, Claire,” you greet weakly.

“Hey, babe.” The back of her cool hand rests on your forehead, the heat is going to sear her skin like a piece of Grade-A beef. “Listen, man, can you just take your girlfriend and go?”

“She’s not my—“

“Leon, let’s just go.” The blonde girl loops her arm around this divine being’s bulging bicep.

Claire closes the curtain to shield you from the sun. It brings forth a wave of relief to your sizzling body, doused in floral breeze and sea-salt-infused linen.

“Aw, babe, you’re fucked.” She fans you lightly with her hand in hopes that man-made wind is enough to combat heat stroke or alcohol poisoning or whatever it is.

“You can head back, ‘m good here,” you slur, “gonna take a nap”

“You sure?” Claire pets your head, you see past her composed exterior, inside is a girl who’s mourning the loss of that cute beach bunny who ran for the hills the moment you started to emanate the smell of sickness.

“Mhm.” You nod, a sluggish movement that makes your liquified brain slosh about in your head. “I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll come check on you later, yeah? Just stay right here for me.” She lays a damp towel over your lower half and you feel like a bit of a beached whale. Like, fucking slack and stupid and heavy with sleep. It’s so unfair. Your one day off and the excessive day drinking comes to bite you in the ass.

Your nap is plagued by divine visions - getting to sink your teeth into that angel’s biceps. So life is not all bad. At least you’ve still got wet dreams to keep you going. The sun has sunken beyond the horizon, dwindling light paints the landscape a burnt orange, the deepening blues of the water taking on a coral hue as you poke your head out past the cotton curtains.

In the distance, you spot a mildly Claire-shaped dot with a ponytail. She’s still having fun so you make no move to bother her, instead you gather your belongings in a methodical manner. Beach towel folded at the bottom of your bag, cover-up slotted neatly into the side pocket. Water bottle and sunscreen on top - making sure to check the caps on both are tightly screwed on. Purse, keys, phone. You’ve got it all.

Though you’ve regained a sense of self - whatever you were going through a few hours ago that was an out-of-body experience - a tight knot lingers in the depths of your gut. It’s lodged in your throat. You proceed to the bathrooms located near the car park, beach bathrooms are not the nicest place on earth, but you’re not going there for a relaxing retreat, you’re there to unload the unholy amount of vomit that sits in your stomach like sunken rocks in a burlap sack.

Your gait is slightly off, it’s hard to navigate the beach in rubbery flip-flops, limping as your feet are anchored into the sinking sand with each step. After a treacherous journey over the colossal (read: totally flat, flatter than a brown rat’s feet) dunes, you’re granted access to the mildewy washrooms— The door swings open and collides with your delicate skull. A surge of nausea hits your system like adrenaline, pumping through you, and you pitch forward, hands on your knees as you hurl.

“What the fuck? Are you stupid?”

His voice is like the gentle tinkering of bells or a choir of angels, it’s thick and smooth like molasses, a knife through hot butter. All of the above. Even when he’s swearing the unholiest words you have ever heard under his breath. It’s him, the guy from before. And you just missed vomiting on his feet. Narrowly. He did hit you with a fucking door though. So there’s that.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay? I saw that!” The cute blonde from before has swiftly joined his side.

“I’m fine, Ashley, she ran into me.” Ashley… Ashley…You might’ve seen her on a billboard somewhere in Hollywood. Certainly looks the type.

“Not you, asshole, oh my god, Leon. Are you serious? You hit her!” Her voice is like money. Papery thin, but there’s substance to it. Makes the world go round. Makes you happy. This concussion might be making you woozy enough to feel happy. “Oh my god, are you, like, okay?”

You clutch at the wall of the beach hut-shaped washroom, steadying yourself. “I’m good, yeah, I’m really good, thanks for asking.” The vomit is gone from your system, that’s a step forward, but now there’s an ugly bump forming on your head.

“What if you have a concession?” Ashley frets, she makes no move to step closer as she would have to manoeuvre the puddle of vomit.

“A concussion.” Leon corrects, he side-steps to make a swift and graceful exit from this situation, making a beeline for the topless convertible parked a few rows over. Oh, shit this guy is like a big shot, and you almost puked on him. Keyword almost.

“Leon! Hello? We can’t just leave her!” She waves her arms at him wildly, like she’s flagging down a rescue helicopter.

“Oh no, my friend’s still here, I came in her car,” you begin, smiling sheepishly as she has made you feel a little like an abandoned puppy. Or a nuisance.

“No, no, you’re sick, like, really sick, and Leon hit you. He totally owes you.” Ashley insists, a delicate hand grasps your wrist in a surprisingly firm grip. “Get in the front.” She’s demanding not in the same way Claire is, but in the way of a spoiled little girl. It works for her, and you plop down on a leathery seat that sticks to your skin. “Leon, I’m gonna meet daddy over in Carbon, so don’t worry about me, okay?” She flutters her fingers at him. “Behave yourself!”

Shit. This car costs more than you would on the black market. That makes you nervous. The guy makes you even more nervous. The way he’s glowering at you— What an asshole. Ashley’s right, he hit you hard, you so deserve a swanky ride home.

“Are you stalking me?” He asks, sunglasses perched on the top of his head, he looks like a total asshole, levelling you up with those glacial eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you stalking me?” He’s like dead serious right now.

“Why would I be stalking you?” There’s genuine confusion on your face, at least that’s what you want Leon to believe.

“Funny,” he scoffs, “real funny.”

“I’m sorry, what’s so funny?” You blink at him stony, gaze unwavering.

You, bitch. Acting like you don’t know him, like his face isn’t plastered all over California. In every nook and cranny. From flagship stores to beige vegan cafes that are frequented by a handful of hipsters and bored trophy wives alone. “Nothing,” Leon settles on, you can play dumb all you want, but this isn’t his first rodeo with stalkers.

In your hand, your Nokia beeps, and much to his annoyance, you pick it up to make casual conversation with whatever creep that’s put you up to this plan. “No, I didn’t mean to scare you, Claire. I literally kinda, I don’t know, it’s hard to explain, but I’m safe, okay? I’m in a…” You trail off, casting a sideways glance at him, “I’m in a taxi right now.”

He squeezes the steering wheel white-knuckled. You’re playing with him right now, and it’s not fucking funny. A little pathetic if anything.

“Yeah, I got enough cash on me to make it back, don’t worry about it. I will, I will, yep, okay. Bye, Claire.” You drop your cell phone into your beach bag and it falls quiet apart from the prowling growl of his engine.

“Where you need to go?” Leon asks, his teeth grinding together, offset by his clenched jaw.

“Santa Monica.”

“That’s helpful,” he says dryly. “Long way over.”

“I’m just being safe.” You shrug. “It’s half an hour, where’d you come from anyway? Beverly Hills?”

“You’re being unhelpful,” he repeats to cement the fact that he is going out of his way to be an upstanding citizen and help stupid girls who walk face-first into doors no matter how stupid they fucking are. Leon’s soft spot for girls is clearly limited. “Bel Air,” he adds a moment later, “but you know that, don’t you?” It’s in every tabloid, don’t gotta be a stalker to know where he lives.

“No, I do not, I seriously don’t know who you are, man.” Your profile is nice enough, not an eyesore, lips look kissable, you would look nice at his feet he decides. Girls like you need dick in your mouth to learn a few things about shutting up.

“You got in my car.” Leon points out.

“I was forced into your car.” Comes your rebuttal.

“Listen, I don’t have time for your shit, just tell me.” Leon never raises his voice at women, that would be a brash decision, girls hear a slight shift in tone and go cuckoo. When you talk to them all nice and sweet they turn to putty with no regard for the subject matter at hand. Could be harvesting a few organs or taking a couple billion out of their trust fund, it doesn’t matter, they’ll be stuck swooning.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” Look at you, you think you’re the shit. “I can get home from the boardwalk.”

Leon is a lot of things. He is an asshole, he would feel like more of an asshole if he made a chick walk home in the dark. He swallows his pride and he swears his Adam’s apple bulges out further than usual. “I’ll take you home, no sweat, I owe you one.”

“I’m good, I want to walk.” You are one stubborn bitch.

“You could use the walk,” Leon says, a slip of the tongue. He didn’t mean anything by that. Listen, it just came out. Promise. You’re testing his fucking patience.

You bristle beside him, to his surprise you make no move to insult him in turn. “Who are you, even?” It’s thrown over your shoulder coolly. “Like, am I supposed to know you?”

“Leon,” Leon says, and to his knowledge there are no other Leon’s in Hollywood - Leonardo DiCaprio does not count.

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” You’ve gotta be messing with him. It’s working, you’re driving him insane.

“Okay, sure.” He bites his tongue, and soon enough you tell him your address. Not the nicest part of Santa Monica, not the worst part. Definitely not Downtown L.A. so that’s good.

The velvet sky is frosted by stars, and it is a beautiful night for road head which Leon really fucking deserves for putting up with so much shit. If it were Ashley by his side he would’ve been forced to pullover more than a few times on the drive over to The Flats.

He pulls up in front of a house that looks to be made of paper mache. Wow, you’re slumming it. Leon makes an unmitigated promise to himself to never be seen around these parts ever again. The air is different, and there’s so many bad smells and oh my lord is that a homeless woman? He better leave before she knocks on his car door to offer him a good time.

“Bye, sweetheart,” Leon tells you because he is the prime example of a gentleman. “Not gonna thank me?”

“What an asshole.” You don’t even bother to say it under your breath, just to his fucking face after he dropped you off in this ugly, grey neighbourhood in his gorgeous convertible.

He forgets about you by morning. Leon has seen more women than a gynaecologist will in their lifetime. You’re another forgettable rack. That is until the following week. A blind item drops. He skims the page.

Blond guy… Plays a lot of action-hero roles… Good with women… Total Asshole… Something about harassment… Something about a full article dropping next week…

Sounds like Leon alright. Hunnigan is on his ass about it. Ashley is on his ass about it. The director is on his ass about it. The staff are looking at him funny. The room is spinning. Leon is going to take a prop gun and shoot himself. He’s managed to keep his asshole status under wraps, money and dick go a long way for girls— Shit, that bitch from Santa Monica. You were not an easy lay, there was no laying in fact. He didn’t offer you sympathy dick to make up for whatever he said to get your panties in a twist.

Leon checks his watch— Filming can wait, Ashley can wait, he won’t be long. Traffic is a nightmare, this sheepskin jacket is sticking to him - only time he has ever lamented having a roofless car. He shrugs off his costume, lays it over the headrest of the passenger seat. Your place is the crumbling stack of bricks tucked into the far corner of a street that is more litter than street.

He knocks on your door firmly, afraid it’ll knock down the paper walls. You don’t answer. He knocks again, taps his foot, and you do not answer. Leon tries the handle, he’s fucking desperate, okay? This film— The premiere has to go smoothly, he has to be back in the limelight and then you can go around making as many accusations as you please, send the pitchfork-wielding mob his way the moment promotions are over.

The door opens. Leaving your door unlocked in a neighbourhood this rough, oh, honey, you’re just begging for it, aren’t you? He steps over the threshold, the door clicks shut behind him, he moves forward in deliberate strides like he knows his way around. To be fair, there’s not many rooms to explore, not Ashley’s sprawling marble landing. From the top of the stairs, he hears your voice.

“Claire, is that you? I just got out the shower, wait there!”

Babe, you got ready for him? That’s cute, he hopes you shaved. The floorboards creak under his boots, climbing the stairs to face the open door of the bathroom. You’re in there, facing the mirror, wrapped in a baby blue towel. Easy access. When you spot him in the reflection, you drop the tub of cleansing cream in the sink basin, it splatters at the same moment your scream shatters the silence.

“What— How did you get in? Why’re you in my house? Get out!” All questions that Leon would answer if you shut up. You’re a stupid little thing, backing yourself into the wall until the back of your knees bump the bathtub. “Oh my god—“

“I let myself in, door was open, babe,” Leon says smoothly, “That’s real dangerous, y’know?”

You clutch at the shower curtain and almost bring it down on your head, Leon pries your fingers from the material as his hands find purchase on the fat of your hips. “Get off me— Get off, get off, get off!” Your spine straightens when he taps your cheek sharply. Huh. That worked. Is that what you need to loosen up? A nice, hard fuck. Some dick in that lonely pussy of yours.

“Hey, calm down, it’s just me.” The guy you think you know all about. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“You’re breaking into my fucking house, you fucking psycho, why would I want to talk to you?” Little fists hammer away at his chest, nails catching on his chest holster that looks more like BDSM gear than anything useful.

“You kidding me?” Leon captures your chin, his touch is anything but tender, a tactile intrusion that leaves crescent-shaped impressions on your jaw. “Had a lot to say in that article.”

“Is that… Is that what this is about?” You catch your breath, trying to appear nonplussed, though you tread carefully in trepidation. “The article isn’t even out yet-“ A soft whimper betrays your confident front when Leon bows his head to meet your eyes.

“Look at me when you’re speaking,” he instructs, and you do. What a good girl. “Okay, there you go, baby, continue.”

The disdain that spoils your pretty face intensifies at his words, and yet you can’t look away. Cute. Head says one thing, pussy says another. “I’m not- I’m not making Claire drop the article, this is the biggest scoop she’s ever had, and you’re gross.” You stand your ground. “You’re an asshole, I hope nobody ever has to deal with your shit again, I hope you get blacklisted, like, forever and fucking ever. I watched your shitty movies, I could do better than that and I got a D in drama class, you’re just hot and you get away with it-“

“That’s not very nice.” Leon talks to you like he is scolding a misbehaving child. Which you are. A rash little girl driven forward by noisy temerity. “We talked once, sweetheart. I wanted to go on a second date, what a shame.” He’s glad you find him hot though.

“Fuck off.”

“C’mon, you’re too cute to be using nasty words like that.” His teasing is not taken in stride, you elbow him in the gut and squirm out of his grip. Leon recovers fairly well, his fingers catching the hem of your towel, unravelling it like a spool of thread. He draws you closer, naked, wet body flush to his clothed one. Nice tits, tick, cute ass, tick, he wants to see how you’d look in a tight skirt, one that hugs your stomach and hips and the tapering of your waist. The type Hunnigan wears when she means business.

And shit. Your pussy is the only thing cuter than your face. Shaved bare like you knew he was coming. You wanted it. You did. Leon doesn’t see any other hot dates waiting for you. “Aw, baby, you shouldn’t have.” He coos, tracing your puffy pussy lips with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t do that…” Your voice is merely a whisper, and you’re not scared, girls like you don’t get scared. They get pissed off. Heated. Angry and upset. But never scared.

“Is this what you want, babe? Some dick ‘n you’ll shut up? Just wanted my attention.” Leon’s voice is a low rumble in your ears, he drawls like a slow trickle of sticky honey. Nothing is stickier than your cunt. He parts your lips, catching the dribbles of slick that form in beads along your slit. “Jesus, you’re fuckin’ wet, baby. You needed this, didn’t you?”

“No,” you croak out, throat dry from only a few minutes of disuse.

“No? You want me to stop then, sweetheart?” Leon slows his touch, it diminishes until it’s gone entirely and you whine at the loss so sweetly. “You’re not making any sense, babe.”

“Oh my god.” You suck in a breath, trembling not out of fear, but out of unadulterated rage and dizzying lust for a piece of his dick. “Fuck you.” He takes that as a Please, fuck me!

“How about we do something easier, baby.” Leon forces you onto your knees, and he was fucking right. You look so good like this. Knelt by his feet. His belt is unclipped, pants unzipped, boxers lowered. He guides his dick into your mouth, and you really are the most cock-starved thing he's ever met, ‘cause you open up and swallow him whole.

Then you do the sluttiest fucking thing a girl has ever done for him - reach back and jab your nails into the meat of his ass to force his dick deeper down your throat. “Shit, that’s right, baby— Fuck, you’re a fucking freak, huh?” Leon rewards you with a skull fuck. Balls clapping wetly and obscenely against your chin.

You gag on it, and you love it. God, he feels the pulse of your cunt through his boot when you grind yourself down on the steel toe cap. It’s round enough to do no damage, cool enough to help that hot cunt out, and the perfect shape to part your folds and stimulate your swollen clit.

Leon slaps it on your cheek a couple of times, then he tightens his hand around the shaft as you play with his balls, try to fit ‘em in your mouth like jawbreakers. Shit, fuck, his brain fucking blanks. He’s gonna cum if you don’t stop. His hand comes to rest on your forehead, hoping to snuff out the pleasure that builds too soon in his belly, you pop off his cock, refusing to stop making out with his tip, tonguing the slit like you’re getting paid to do this.

The bedroom is a couple metres away, it’s an awkward shuffle over with his lips slotted to yours, tongue running over your teeth, licking at your gums. Your back hits the handle, then less than a metre after that it hits the squeaky mattress. He kisses down your body, you smell like fruity body wash, it might be strawberry or raspberry. It smells like pink, that’s all he knows.

A sloppy kiss is placed on the very front of your mound. “You want me to play with your sticky little pussy, baby?”

“Ew,” you whimper out, nodding anyways, legs bent at the knee to bare your sweet pussy to him.

He laps at you like a dog. Eating pussy is tedious, Leon likes pushing heads down on his dick, it’s way better. But to hear you moan like that, shit he would do it a thousand times over, latch onto your clit and suck till you see stars. “Did you like that, baby? Fuck, creamed on my fucking tongue, sweet little thing.” He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. Sure, Leon's going to go back to set smelling of your cunt, it’s not so bad. He quite likes it. Better the tang of pussy than sweat.

“Jus’ put it in,” you beg, “please, please—“

“I heard you the first time, sweetheart. Be patient.” Leon takes your ankles in his hands, puts them by your ears. See this? That’s when Leon can tell a girl really fucking wants him. When she holds her thighs up for him, and then she puts her palms flat to spread herself as open as she can get. “Jesus, baby, you’re a slut.” He laughs derisively, it rolls off his tongue as sweetly as any other pet name.

You’re left keening when the head of his dick sinks into your weeping cunt, your toes curl, and Leon cranes his neck to kiss your ankle. He runs his hands over the backs of your plush thighs, circling his hips as he eases into you— He’s lying. In his world, there’s no easing. Leon’s dick is mean, and he can tell you’ve been dying for a rough fuck. He bottoms out the second his head pops past your fluttering hole. Then he’s balls-to-the-wall. Like, literally. They’re heavy against your ass, slapping loudly with each measured thrust.

“Baby,” Leon starts, he’s breathless, rolling his hips into yours, “I swear on my life, sweetheart, if that shit drops I’ll beat you fuckin’ bloody.” That article dropping would signal the end of his life as he knows it. Your pussy clamps down on him at his words. “Oh, you nasty little bitch, you liked that?”

There’s a string of yes, yes, yeses! and then a string of expletives, and then a drawn-out call out of his name as he drives into you with all the force of a freight train. Your nails are scratching down his back, and your pussy is coating him in the same wetness that pools below your ass.

“Take it, baby, take it, fucking take it.” It takes one last thrust for you to come undone, your orgasm has your body going ramrod straight, and then your pussy fucking gushes. And Leon in all his years of sex and women and pussy and fucking has never made a girl do that. Half of him is convinced you’ve gone and pissed on him, the other half is sure he’s made you squirt like girls do in porn— Holy shit. He’s twenty-seven years old and he only just made a girl squirt.

You cry out as he grinds into you, his dick bumping your cervix, his pelvis grinding into your clit— And you sob, shaking your head as another burst of liquid spurts out of your cunt, soaking his abdomen, soaking his fucking shirt that belongs to the costume department—

Fuck, he’s gonna cum. He’s cumming hard. Leon’s balls tighten, and his shaft twitches as his load shoots out of the tip of his cock into your tight cunt. He didn’t pull out. If there’s one thing, he’s good at, it’s pulling out. Leon made a girl squirt, and he didn’t pull out. All in one day. What an accomplished man he is.

“Mmm.” You roll onto your front, face in the pillows as you catch your breath, still shivering as aftershocks zap at your nerve endings. Leon wipes the sweat built on his forehead, strands of his hair stuck to it. “I’m not convinced, the article’s still going up.”

What a bitch.

“Right.” He delivers a brisk swat to your ass, it elicits an involuntary yelp. “Guess I’ll have to convince you. I got a week, don’t I?”

“A week and a half,” you say, not bothering to bid him bye as he zips his cargos, “I’m pretty hard to convince.” Cheeky.

“It can be done.” Through another round of dick from Monday to Friday.

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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hanrinz · 10 months

Text

✩ ‧ ₊˚ TO LOVE AND TO HOLD — MICHAEL KAISER

wherein your boyfriend is terrible at pick-up lines, but it's okay he's cute anyway.

your boyfriend of four years, michael kaiser is terrible with a lot of things. namely, with his incapability of cooking meals, his terrible sense of time—if not for you maybe he won't even come to some grand events his team holds in time.

but this main habit of your boyfriend that just takes the prize, is him making awful pick-up lines.

may it be a line he saw from a rom-com movie or he's seen on the internet, he'll make it a mission to use it on you every single time.

what makes it worse, is that he doesn't even say it right.

your boyfriend is a lot of things, but using a good pick-up line is not one of them. your boyfriend is idiotically cute and sometimes a jerk.

it baffles your friends how you ended up with such a man like michael kaiser. maybe, it was his dumb jokes or his stupid face, you'll never know.

love is blind they said, maybe it's true for you.

on a cold afternoon, where you and kaiser are walking down on the road for a grocery run. the sun hides behind the clouds and the breeze blows through lightly.

scrolling through your phone as you check the list of the items you'll be buying. walking aimlessly as your boyfriend leads you, a hand placed on your lower back.

surprisingly he's quiet, looking at the buildings and the speck of white flakes that falls faintly on this day.

you continue to revel in the comfortable silence you were wrapped into, listing down some items you've been thinking on top of your head.

milk, strawberries, chocolates...

mind blanking from the things you need at your home, you turn to your lover. whose attention was taken by the surroundings, it's a rare sight to see.

your kaiser is quiet and deep in thought, an eerie scene in your honest opinion, but you don't point it out loud.

instead, you call out to him.

"what do you want for dinner?"

silence.

for someone who likes talking off his mind, your boyfriend didn't even hear you. well, that's something new.

you only call more.

"kaiser? hello? ...love?"

the same response was met.

you wonder what was weighing on your boyfriend's mind for him to drown out the world. it makes you think if he's ignoring you, but you didn't dwell on it for much any longer.

huffing as you try once more, with a louder voice.

"kaiser—"

your boyfriend's head turns all so suddenly to you, interjecting your words.

"—my hand is kinda heavy, can you hold it?"

your boyfriend is really terrible, you conclude.

a smile was plastered on his face, his stupidly charming smile was hanging on his lips. the kind of one that you're familiar with, the one where he finds another pick-up line to use.

he looks at you expectantly, gauging your reaction to what you think of it, you presume—his amazing lines.

and you try to stop the ever growing grin that makes its way to your face, but failing miserably.

only replying to his charms back.

"that's not how the line goes, but you're cute so fine."

a chuckle leaves your lips, making kaiser pout. compared to the pick-up lines he had uttered before, this was definitely better, but not the best.

but it's fine—it's okay because it was him, you think.

"hey, don't laugh! i tried my best okay?" he cried out.

another laugh leaves your mouth, that you tried to stifle—keyword: tried

you took his hands with yours, squeezing it three times in a way to comfort him, dragging him to the store that comes into view.

"okay, mr. i-tried-my-best, whatever you say." you teased, before letting yourself freely laugh at his antics, that only makes him pout more.

your boyfriend was really bad at this, but you don't mind. it's fine, because he's stupid and yours.

◞♡ likes & reblogs are highly appreciated ! okay,, first time writing for this man i hate him i swear :x based on this prompt btw !!

#roses ‘r rosie #read at your own risk #hana i'm looking at u #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x you #michael kaiser #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock fluff #kaiser fluff

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kentosbabes · 1 year

Text

D for an A.

Professor Nanami who walked into class on the first day not expecting to see you, you had met previously at a party hosted by one of his college friends. But there you are, sitting in his lecture hall with a pen in your pretty mouth. Nanami remembered you vividly, your aura and beauty brought men from all ends of the house to right in front of you. He can remember the drunk kids you shared on a dare. Nanami can see you conversing with another classmate of yours, your head flogging back with a laugh on your lips.

Professor Nanami hated how you made him feel like a blushing schoolgirl. He feels an unbridled desire for you, it shakes him to his very core. He knows he shouldn’t like you like that. It’s wrong, its perverse, you’re so innocent and naive to the ways of an older man. He refuses to acknowledge his feelings for you, which is becoming an increasingly difficult way to suppress his emotions. Nanami fucks his fist with your name on his tongue and your face flicking through his mind in a post-orgasmic state. It makes it much harder to see you the next day for class.

He was nervous, Professor Nanami asked you to stay back after a mock exam. He noticed you haven’t been yourself for a couple days, your usually high exam results have taken a hit. You’re one of his more intelligent students, so seeing you do so bad? It infuriated him. He knows you can do better so that was probably why he asked you to stay back. “I’m disappointed in you and your attitude to my class, do you feel like you don’t have to try so hard because you get good results anyways in the real thing?” Your eyes start to well up and Nanami realises you might actually cry in front of him, “I just want to know why, that’s all, so I can best support you.”

Professor Nanami was shocked when you told him the that the reason why you weren’t doing so well was because of you break up with your boyfriend. You broke it off mutually due to compatibility reasons but it didn’t hurt any less. Nanami was only wishing that he could make you feel better, perhaps go down on you or fuck you till you forget his name and who he was.

It was awkward for Professor Nanami and you after your random breakdown in his office, he was strangely an excellent listener. The kiss you shared at the party was initiated by the crowd chanting and the haziness from the hella drinking you did for your friend's birthday. You assumed he'd want to bring it up but all he gave you were lustful stares when he thought you weren't watching, but you would have to be blind to not notice his darkening gaze when you spoke or looked at him.

You confer with your friend about Professor Nanami and she aptly suggests you need a rebound and he seems single and ready to fuck. Thus began operation D for an A. Nanami noticed a lack of effort on your part in his class work, he asked around and it seemed like this was an issue in his class and his class alone. What was different about him? He told you to stay back to discuss your recent performance in class.

Professor Nanami looked good enough to eat, your plan was simple, to fuck him and rebound from your ex. Hopefully, he's down as well. He asked you to stay back and you hope he's finally gotten the hints you have been giving him all week, including the dropped items you bent down to get and sucking all manners of items like pens and lollipops. He locked the door, "Darlin' we need to talk about your grades." You look up at him and decide to be a brat, "well, have I been a bad girl? Maybe you need to punish me?"

Professor Nanami was not expecting this at all. His eyebrows raised to his hairline, you wanted him? Why? You were under a decade his junior. He stepped forward and put your chin in between his index finger and thumb. "Oh really?" He teased, he would think about the practicalities of this relationship later, right now you're too irresistible for him to resist. You lean in to kiss him and it is nothing you have ever felt before, the sheer practice and experience made you feel out of your depth.

His cock twitched at the thought of you cucking on his dick like you teased him with that god-forsaken lollipop. Lord knows how you pictured yourself on your knees sucking Professor Nanami's cock in his office. The thrill of getting caught somehow made you even wetter if that was possible. You don't know what prompted you to be so promiscuous, but this worked for him. You closed the gap between you and started to unbuckle his trousers, looking up through your eyelashes for permission.

Professor Nanami nodded and you pulled his black boxers down alongside his trousers. His cock was hardening under your touch, it was like nothing you have ever seen before, definitely, the largest you have ever sucked. You wonder if it's even going to fit in your mouth. His grunts and groans sound melodic to you as you kitten-lick him to get used to his size. You breathe through your nose, a tip learnt from your friends but never got to use due to your ex's uselessness in bed. Taking a breath and sucking, deep-throating him. Your cheeks hollowing and tears streaking your face almost made him cum right there and then.

Professor Nanami could've taken you right there on his desk, but he wanted to take his time with you and fuck you senselessly so you forget that ex-boyfriend of yours. He could feel himself drawing to a close, right on the edge, "Doll, I'm going to cum," he pauses, "good girls swallow, can you do that for me? hm?" He throws his head back with a whine caught in his throat, you swallowed. You actually swallowed his seed because he asked, the image of white cum leaking out of your mouth and streaked makeup could've made him fuck you right there.

You ask Professor Nanami for a second round at his place. "Obviously, I still need to fuck you so well you forget his name."

Masterlist

#kentosbabes #kento nanami #nanami smut #nanami headcanons #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento headcanons #nanami kento drabble #kento x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #fem reader #x reader #one shot #teacher x reader #teacher x student #hes so fine and for what #i need him so bad

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call-memissbrightside · 1 year

Text

TW: angst

"I need the ring back."

Katsuki is hanging by the doorway of the once shared bedroom, he's on edge and ready to bolt if you decide to begin throwing items-his items- at him again.

You don't move from being seated on the bed, unconsciously still on your side even though you haven't shared a bed with him for a week now. Your wearing the robe he gifted you on your recent birthday. It still smells like him and you hate how much he's changed.

"Y/N."

You close your eyes at the utter coldness in the way he says your name now, so different from the softness he shared with just you. Where did that softness go? To the other woman? The thought makes you tear up and you openly sob.

It hurts Katsuki to see you cry like a little child that fell and scratched up their knee. So loud, and vulnerable, and so raw it makes Katsuki almost scared for you.

He makes note of the time on his watch on this wrist, he grits his teeth and sighs loudly.

"Enough of this!" He yells, and you instantly shut up. Old habits die hard. Katsuki explodes and you go belly up.

"Y/N, please don't make this worse than it has to be." Katsuki rubs his face with a heavy hand in frustration.

You're hearing him but not really. The ring, your ring, is still beautiful after wearing it every day for three years. It twinkles and shines even though you're blinded by hot tears.

The day he proposed was so beautiful. A clear day on the top of his favorite mountain after an intense hike. Katsuki made sure you didn't give up, encouraging you to make it to the tip of the mountain and rewarding you with this ring.

"My ring?" Your bottom lip quivers because it already knows the answer. You knew the end of the marriage was coming for a while now. When Katsuki left home a week ago. When the news broke that he was spotted with another woman. When he'd work late nights and not kiss you as much for months out of the blue.

Still, you had hope because you were still in love with him.

But now he wanted your ring? The same ring he forged the center diamond himself? The ring that he promised was yours and only yours, because he made it to be so. Back when he loved you.

Your chest is tight as you choke back on your sobs as you take off your wedding ring, the last piece of your love for Katsuki.

You can't touch him, you knew it would further break you and you needed some pieces of you left intact if you ever wanted to get past this. So you place it on his pillow, and you don't meet his eyes when Katsuki quickly picks it up and returns back to the doorway.

"Take care of yourself," Katsuki whispers before leaving you and the life he created with you behind. He tries to leave quickly but your piercing cries follow him down the stairs and through the front door as he slams it shut behind him.

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader angst #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader

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hunbun03 · 1 year

Note

May I ask when the Jeff fic is gonna get finished?🥺

Ahh! It's finally done and hopefully not too late! ♡♡♡ I hope you enjoy my first fic of 2023!!

ℍ𝔸𝕋𝔼𝔽𝕌ℂ𝕂𝕀ℕ𝔾 𝕁𝔼𝔽𝔽 𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝕂𝕀𝕃𝕃𝔼ℝ ♡

warning: rough rough sex, BIG DEGRADATION STUFF, hair-pulling, it’s hate sex with a murderer sooooo, pain, fat-shaming??, you domming jeff???, use of feminine names and anatomy, unwanted cream pie, nipple biting and sucking, lot of biting, public kinda sex like you could get caught!, overall general nastiness, BARELY EDITED SMUT!

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤: around 4k

ℚ𝕌𝕀ℂ𝕂 𝕃𝕀𝕃 𝔹𝕌𝕃𝕃𝔼𝕋 𝕃𝕀𝕊𝕋-

Jeff is a little shit- You know it. I know it.

Sooooo He teases the absolute fuck out of you! when you two aren’t fucking or at least making out: he won’t let you hear the end of it-

“You hate me huh?” “You don’t seem to hate me slut.”

People at the mansion would never guess that you two hook up most nights- since both of you are at each other throats insulting each other for everything under the sun.

Something about the insults, the yelling and the hard grip he had on you made you wet. Made you quiver, made you want this man that you hated.

You hated this man but couldn’t truly express that while you were clawing up the counter tops, him behind you rutting into your needy cunt hard.

you both needed this release.

You still hated each other.

Y’all just needed this just this once!!your bodies took ahold of you! This would be the last night of it.

until you two did it again

and again

fine- maybe you liked it more than what you wanted to admit.

♡♡♡

ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠!! ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕖’𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕞𝕦𝕥 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕣:

It was early morning in the mansion, and the sun was barely poking its head over the old windowsills; It provided enough light for you to creep through the sleeping house, the only sound was the sharp creaks of the aged wooden floor. The nerves made you walk slower and they didn't truly settle until the pads of your feet touched the almost ice-like tile of the kitchen.

The kitchen was darker than the rest of the house, it was completely devoid of the warm peeks of the sunrise due to the thick curtains. You placed your hand flat on the wall and blindly felt around for seemingly a minute while you stared into the void that was the kitchen currently. Past a certain pattern of bumps: The tip of your finger thumped into the thick light switch, and in a flash, the odd staring contest with the darkness ended.

You beelined straight for the fridge which looked worse for wear. Slenderman doesn't make any unnecessary purchases, it still worked good so why buy a prettier one. Sure, it was tough to get it open but a hefty push from your sleep-riddled arms was just enough for this morning.

The buzzing lightbulb in the fridge made you press your eyes tight together and squeezed the remaining sleep out of them. Once again you were back in the dark, giving your eyes time to adjust from the soft light of the peeking sun and the sickly dim yellow lights above to the now almost heavenly fridge light.

Lucky for you, It only took a second.

And there it was: All of the food in the house currently. The cabinets were pretty bare aside from cleaning products and dishes that weren't either in the dishwasher or being used as makeshift tupper-ware. Standing there and soaking up that light that once blinded you. There were a couple of items your eyes were flicking between; A neat plastic container that held some sort of pasta, a tin foiled-wrapped paper plate mystery, and an unwrapped probably stale mash potatoes from a leftover tv dinner. Absolutely none of it looked particularly appetizing but the grumbling in your stomach didn't at all care, but before you could reach for one of your choices for breakfast your appetite dropped.

"Getting a nice tan, fat-ass?"

The hunger subsided but your stomach filled with the same feeling it always had when you heard that nails on a chalkboard voice of his. Of course, Jeff had to be the only one awake just to spite you when you think the whole house is asleep. You clenched your teeth tight until you felt a slight whirring in your jaw, hopefully, he would fuck off if you didn't respond but that only seemed to spur him on more.

"What are you now, deaf? C'mon toots you know how to say good morning the right way," Jeff's voice still had the sleepiness rasp to it. "Don't ya?"

Honestly, if it wasn't for him being so annoying you would find it quite sexy.

"What's the proper way to say good morning then?" Your voice was also raspy, it was the first thing you said this morning. Too bad that you wasted it on Jeff.

Jeff liked the raspiness more than he would admit, it reminded him of how you tend to scratch up your throat during your guy's screaming matches and how much worse it would get when you were screaming for a different reason. The very thought of a possible fuck made him want to start poking those few buttons he knew.

"Not fucking ignoring me for starters," Jeff smirked against the already scarred smile, making it stretch more. "And giving me a big smile babe."

Your eyes rolled before you even looked back at Jeff. He was leaning against the door frame, his black plaid pajama pants were hanging low on his thin build. The white tank of his was tighter than what you would think, all of it revealed his belly and revealed your favorite part personally: That thick happy trail of his which led to your second favorite part.

You flashed him the most fake smile you could muster, lips stretching against your teeth with how grand you were making it, "Uh-huh."

He couldn't help but smile back before biting his lower lip, Jeff's eyes were glued to your stretched lips. He leaned in closer to you, watching how your lips twitched against the strain "Uh-huh~"

Just as fast as you put that smile on, it dropped into your resting face aside from your lips which were in a slight frown. "Like calling me a fat-ass is such a better way, bleach boy."

It was now his turn for his eyes to roll, "Real mature Toots."

"Oh shove it up your ass Jeff."

Annoyance aside, he was genuinely letting his semi speak for him, and the way you insulted him almost made his semi not a semi anymore. Still, he needed another screaming match to fully get into the mood; deep down, he knew that you needed it too.

"A better way to say good morning to me toots is by sucking my cock."

Your face was stuck in disbelief, your eyes flicked up and down his whole being. You were dumbfounded but when you saw a noticeable bulge in his pajama pants you immediately knew why he was saying this. You let disgust run all over your body, the only thing you wanted in you right now was food and even that was iffy since your appetite was draining by the second while you were with him.

"Really Jeff? As if I'll put that thing in my mouth- won't even reach past my gums." You sneered, looking away from him and towards the empty cabinets, a smirk came across your face.

Jeff rolled his eyes, annoyed but turned on even more now. He came closer to you, now standing in front of you. Towering over you even though he wasn't the tallest guy in the house but here, compared to you he was. He was currently taking up your side view, It made your breath hitched slightly, and the excitement rumbled in a ball in your chest, you felt it every time you breathe.

"You weren't saying that last time doll, you know that." Jeff's sleepiness rasp to his voice was actually sending tingles down your spine, just the excitement of getting into not actually an argument but a bickerment was enough to get over the hatred you had for this man, and get into the pure lust you had instead.

"Who got overwhelmed by my size? screaming about how big it was huh?" Jeff was still teasing you and seemingly his craved smile stretched even wider when he caught your cheeks starting to redden.

He only wants to continue this. wanting to see how red your cheeks would get.

"I saw how your little tummy bulged out when I was absolutely balls deep in you, Doll." Jeff couldn't help but smile more. Now his actual smile was now mocking his carved one.

You couldn't stop the blood rushing to your cheeks causing them to mimick the color now. The redder they got the cockier Jeff got. His ego was inflating and he wouldn't stop until you were naked and squirming underneath him.

"Shut up Jeff. I swear." You murmured, barely able to get it out of your mouth. You swear that the heat from your cheeks was getting in the way of talking, Jeff picked up on this as well and it only pushed him to keep teasing you.

"Come on now can't defend yourself now? Come onnn call me stupid or something sweetface."

Before you could even get a word out he continued.

"See absolutely speechless because of me teasing you? Wow, would never thought that I would see the day that Y/N didn't have anything to say."

He looks proud of himself but a better word for it would be cocky, you thought. He kept going on about his small victory and soon his words snuffed the heat right out of your cheeks. You needed to shut him up somehow before his cockiness also snuffed out your lust. Thankfully, you had just the idea.

You pushed him into the wall, cutting him off in the midst of another boast. You looked up at him with a devilish smirk as you gently pulled up his white tank revealing his lean but toned body, and that happy trail as well. When the shock subsided he immediately got the hint, smirking down at you, while his eyes watched you carefully.

Your hand slid down his pajama pants feeling that same semi he had while you were insulting him. Now you could feel the effect that you always knew you had on him. You, almost at a painstaking pace started to rub his cock. as you started to kiss all over his chest. Sloppy wet kisses, leaving a trail of slight purple bruises as the blood rose to his snow-white skin.

He could only groan softly, keeping his voice hushed because y'all were next to the kitchen door: He couldn't let anyone see him like this, pinned up against the wall, shirt pushed up his chest and you teasing him. He couldn't be seen especially with you. His pride wouldn't possibly let the entire mansion or a single person know that he could stand for a second or even a quick fuck.

The kisses got meaner with time, now biting into his surprisingly soft skin which made it a lot harder for him to conceal his moans and groans.

"Fuck.. Doll." He whined which made you smile against his ribcage. The noise was delicious, and you didn't expect that you would get that from Jeff of all people.

A soft giggle left your lips and was muffled by the bruised flesh currently in your teeth. Your hand that rubbed his semi-to-a-full erection paused its movements as you got an idea that would be rather fun to execute and hopefully get another delicious whine from him.

Your lips left his ribcage and your teeth left their marks in the now red-purple love bruise. Your lips made a trail of now soft and sweet kisses up his chest. No one could tell that you hated this man with how soft you were being in this moment.

You paused when your mouth hovered over his right nipple. Your eyes flicked up to meet his and he looked mostly confused why you stopped kissing him. He liked it despite how rough you were. Little did he know what you had in mind.

"Doll- what are yo-"

You cut him off but wrapped your pretty lips around his nipple and gently sucked on it like he had done to you during past hookups. You ever so slightly let your tongue graze again the hardening pebble.

Pitiful groans came from Jeff's mouth, he was shocked that he could muster up these sounds.

With a wet plop, you stopped sucking, leaving Jeff to scramble to catch his breath and thoughts. When he looked like he had a smidge of it back, you had your two front teeth and bottom teeth around the now reddish pink bud, the color similar to your blush from earlier.

A groan that ended off with a high pitch whine when you started to roll the bud in between your teeth, wriggling your tongue on the top part.

"Fuuuck Duh-Duh... Doll."

That free hand of yours had a similar mind as it went up to his lone nipple gently flicking it and pinching it.

Jeff was a blushing mess, happy that your view was only on his chest cause he would have hated to see your reaction to him like this.

You didn't stop until his right nipple was bright red and slightly puffy.

Jeff reached for your face which had some drool pouring out of your mouth and onto his chest. He absolutely didn't care, pulling you up to his height by your face so he could roughly make out with you. His scarred skin rubbed against yours, tounges smashed together and so did moans. Accidentally bumping teeth when either of you got a little too excited.

You struggled some with the height difference and the way you felt like you were just held up by your neck, so during the make-out, you climbed him like the bean pole he was. He easily helped you: his hands grabbing massive greedy heaps of your thighs, squeezing it hard to start making his own marks on your body.

Drool seeped out from the corners of y'alls mouths.

Finally, he pulled away so your lungs could take gulps of air. He moved to your neck where your pulse was beating the strongest and started biting and sucking: His hands moved to one of his personal favorite body parts of yours: your ass. His hands which looked to be made for piano left imprints.

Your moans filled the kitchen now and weren't the least bit quiet: fuelling him to carry you to the old island in the middle of the kitchen and plopped your bruised ass on the yellowed marble counter.

His greedy mouth traveled down your chest leaving wide 'O' shaped burst blood vessels. You felt your body warming up, you couldn't see all too well, blinded by lust. All that mattered was taking this man in every way y'all saw fit.

Jeff ripped open your shirt, sloppily sucking on your breasts in any way they could fit in his mouth. he didn't care what part he just wanted to suck on them and also for them to be marked since you did one hell of a job on his chest.

"Jefff fuuuck~"

"Now you're moaning my name toots." He said his voice muffled by your marked flesh still halfway in his mouth. "Good." He huffed, his mouth now going lower.

He left a couple marks on your tummy, didn't want to spend too much time there but didn't want to leave it bare. He couldn't wait. He wanted to taste you. To swirl his tongue around in your insides. quite hastily he pulled your underwear down to around your ankles and threw your legs over his shoulders: making you lay your warm naked back against the cold marble which made your nipples hard and that caught his attention.

He flicked his eyes back up to your breasts, taking in the sight before he reached out and grabbed them roughly leaving the same hand-shaped imprints.

His eyes looked wild as ever. the pupil constricted into a pin-point like a parrot who just learned how to say "fuck". Those wild eyes traced your body from your tits down to your pussy, pretty and glistening from all the excitement and fun y'all had earlier. He reached down, gently taking his index finger and rubbing the slit of your cunt. From how he grabbed you earlier you weren't expecting this. How he so delicately touched you as if you were a brittle piece of bone, threatening to snap

You greedily tried to move your hips, trying to push yourself against his hand so you could feel more. The red flush on your face now was out of frustration since he In perfect timing moved his hand so you just missed his fingers by a hair.

"Nuh uh uh toots. Not yet." He said through gritted teeth as if he was straining to hold even himself back from completely devouring you. "I wanna hear something?"

"What Jeff? Whaaat" You whined, now sitting up half-assed.

"Beg."

"I am not-"

"Shut up Doll: You did it before."

"Im not doing it this ti-"

You were cut off by a long moan erupting from your mouth one of Jeff's long fingers slid up inside you, bottoming out easily. the beginning of his palm right against your clit. You were knocked back on your back, legs naturally spreading open for this man which pulled him in closer due to your panties still being around your ankles.

"Please Jeff."

Jeff stood above you, jaw unclenched as now he worked his hand shoving his ring finger in to join his middle one.

"That's all you had to say bitch.. GOD, you're so hot like this." He groaned, pulling back as he lowered himself to be in direct line of sight of your pussy. He moved his hand so his palm wasn't covering your now swollen clit, His natural smile was now ear to ear before he leaned over and started to suck lightly on your clit which sent your hips into wild motions so wild in fact that he had to reach up with his free hand and firmly press it against your belly to keep you still enough while he tasted you.

He worked his fingers into you hard but slow, thrusting into you as if he was fucking you with his cock, his tongue flicking around your clit. he changed his thrusts to the scissoring motion when he noticed you tightening up on him, your pussy throbbing wildly, your moans pleads, and whimpers all in his ears.

He moaned along with you, seemingly getting off to see you getting off. Strangely, you twos emotions were always tied together.

Maybe it was from all practice he had but he genuinely felt you were close, it must've been muscle memory.

His fingers worked rough, sloppily thrusting into you with no real timing or pacing. His tongue and mouth got sloppier and so did his hold on you which meant you could buck all you wanted. You squeezed tighter on his fingers genuinely feeling a big knot in your stomach, only tightening more and more with how more messy Jeff has gotten.

His mouth trailed off, his tongue joining his fingers in your hole while his other hand's fingers rubbed your clit, flicking it back and forth between his index and middle finger.

The muscles in your legs twitched and generally shake as if that would help you hold in the need to come undone under jeff's talented hands and mouth.

The knot only swelled and so did the upcoming scream in your throat. In time, you clasp your hand over your mouth muffling the guttural scream the best you can.

You came and came hard, juices gushing out of your hole and onto Jeff's fingers and waiting mouth. He looked up at you, your whole body flushed a rosy pink. Your mouth agape taking in greedy breaths, boobs bouncing slightly from your chest moving.

"Jesus toots almost drowned me." He grinned, at how annoyed you looked. He straightened up, his chin still dripping with your fluids, he stuck his fingers into your hanging mouth.

"Suck." He ordered, eyes lowering but the smile was still the same.

You closed your mouth around his fingers and gave it gentle sucks, savoring the taste of yourself much to the enjoyment of Jeff. his eyes sparkled when you kept sucking even when he tried to pull them out.

He pulled you by your hips closer to him, his pajama pants barely able to hang on. He barely pulled them down, just enough so that he could take out his cock.

"I know you been wanting this~"

"Shut up Jeff."

"What am I wrong toots?"

"Ye-" A loud moan interrupted you when he shoved himself into your needy cunt, gladly sucking in all of his length.

He joined your choir of moans as being in your tight pussy was enough for his knees almost to buckle. He was hunched over you, god he could swear to a priest that this pussy was the closest thing to heaven he has ever known. He gave only shallow thrusts which were enough for you both to shudder and whine. You from being overly sensitive and him from just edging himself.

"Fuck toots- god!"

He thrust into you hard one time and you both saw stars. Jeff was hunched over you like a lion eating its's meal, his hands found a way towards your hair and pulled it backward, making you stay in an arch position. He gave you more brutal thrusts, knocking every damn thought out of ya.

"Cant fucking think huh doll?" Jeff mocked you for the glazed-over look you had in your eyes. Your tongue hanging out like a puppy-dog.

"Fuck you." your tongue found it's way back into your mouth and hurled that at him.

"You're already doing that sweetheart~" He cooed looking down at your pretty face, which know had more of a glare on it then lust.

He kept the same deep pace with you, looking intently into your eyes.

"Fu-fuck you jeff! I hate you!"

Your pussy squeezed around him almost like it was milking him. His thrusts only grew rougher as his smile grew wider.

"hate me huh? Dont hate me enough not to fuck me~ God you're such a stupid little slut."

The way he was bottoming you out on repeat was making you stammer on your words. "Shut shut shut up-"

"Or else what bitch? Am I the only guy you fuck in the house or just the one that does it the best?'

His index and middle finger went to rub your clit. pressing harder down on it. You couldn't help but to buck your hips again. The knot in your belly finding the loose strings and tying itself up again.

"Jesus christ Jeffery- You're such a fucking asshole- Can't even- make me cum again." You said through gritted teeth, the way you had to suppress moans just to say that drove you insane. And deep down you knew that he was gonna make you cum again by how the knot was quickly tightening up.

"Oh? I can't, news to me bitch." He slow down but still trusted into you hard enough for you not to complain. His hand went off of your clit and onto your belly pressing down on it. He could feel his own cock going in and out.

His other hand loosens up on your hair, allowing you to move a little and you did, propping yourself up on your elbows, looking him right in his cocky face.

"fuck smiles-" You moaned and he laughed.

Your hand went and grabbed his hair pulling him to your lips. The smart way of shutting him up, can't brag if he's busy swirling tongues.

The kiss was hot and heavy and soon you both got sloppier. Jeff with his thrusts and tongue and you with your tongue.

your facades both fell apart and you two wildly fucked into each other. Not thinking about the rivalry, the other people living here, nothing at all but getting each other off.

The knot was unbearabley tight, your thighs twitching like mad around his waist, squeezing him a little tighter. Jeff pushed you flat on your back, now chest to chest with your tongues still locked together. Moans seeping out in between the little breaks in the kiss. You pulled away to fully let out a louder moan and you could feel jeff's hot breaths against your cheek. He smelled of you.

"Jeff... I'm gonna cum."

"Fuck me too."

Jeff got sloppier like how he did when he was fingering you. No rhythm or pacing to it, fucking into you rough. Whatever felt good to him he just did it. Rocking his hips into you at a brutal pace. He lifted himself off of your chest, his hands taking greedy handfuls of your thighs and squeezing hard, matching the brutal way he was fucking you. He was holding you as if you would run away but you did quite the opposite, fucking yourself back against him when he wasn't pulling you against his thrusts.

When you did have your eyes open, you caught glimpses of him staring at you with such an intensity it made your pussy throb. His jaw clenched, eyes crazy but scanning your whole body drinking the view in.

It felt like hours going on like this but a couple more thrusts made you cum, your body seized up, tightening your pussy around him before just gushing all over his pelvis, thoroughly soaking his pajama pants that were loosely hanging around his thighs. Seeing you being sent over the edge was what he needed to come undone, with one last thrust he filled you up to the brim, his legs shaking as he dumped every last drop into you.

He then slouched and laid on your chest, his face resting in the nook of your neck. You both lay there, breathing heavily but in sync. Somehow your hands found their way to his back, your finger drawing invisible circles on his shoulder blade.

When both of ya'lls breathing stopped resembling that of an asthmatic kid who just got done running the mile, Jeff picked his head up. A gentle smile against his carved one.

"i'll make us breakfast, toots."

#creepypasta smut #creepypasta x reader #jeff the killer smut #jeff the killer x reader smut #jeff the killer x reader #creepypasta x reader smut

1K notes · View notes

actingwithportals · 7 months

Text

I wish more people understood that not every blind person is the exact same and we do not all need the same things and also the circumstances under how you were raised and when your blindness occurred and how involved you were in a blind community all play parts into what accessibility needs you will have.

Like. I was born legally blind. My vision has been for the most part stable my whole life, and it is likely to not change (unless normal worsening with age). I was raised in a family full of sighted people and all of my friends and members of my community were sighted people. I did not start meeting other blind people and joining blind communities until my early teenage years. This shaped me in such a way that I never learned Braille until I started teaching myself when I got older, did not learn to use a cane until I started attending blind camps as a teen, did not know I had an option of asking for accessibility with videos or images or menus or shopping or cooking or ANYTHING until I met other blind people who made it clear to me that there was a way I could exist with independence as a blind person and didn't have to just. miss out on life that I couldn't see.

So a vast majority of the way I taught myself to get by is very different from someone who spent a lot more of their early years around other blind people. But I also picked up a great deal of "normal" blind accessibility tricks from my teen years of involving myself with more blind communities that other blind folks who never involve themselves in blind communities are aware of or find useful.

My vision teacher as a kid showed me JAWS and explained what it was, but never really bothered to teach me to use it because ZoomText she decided was better for me. So I grew up to use screen magnifiers and not screenreaders. She didn't teach me Braille because she could get ahold of large print books, and when she couldn't she would find me a vast array of magnifiers to use. Ones with lights, ones in different shapes, some that were actual screen devices while others were simply glass. She didn't teach me how to use a cane and instead got me monoculars and bioptics, even though those actually...were not very easily usable to me. I had to teach myself how to use a cane after my first year of camp where I was gifted one, and later expanded upon learning when I finally took Orientation and Mobility training my year before moving out to college. I wouldn't start learning Braille until around the same time when I was given a Brailler by the specific state agency that provided assistive devices to blind students during high school and college.

So now, as an adult, what I find useful is reading text on a screen so that I can adjust my own contrast and magnification, I use a cane when walking around on my own outside of my home or other familiar areas, I use Braille on my keyboard and around on my household appliances so that I don't have to bend over or squint to attempt to read any settings or buttons or keys. A different blind person who grew up with different circumstances will have a very different list of assistive technology that is useful to them. Some will hate magnifiers and prefer audiobooks. Some would rather read Braille. Some will use puff paint or color-coding for household appliances or items like on clothing tags or toothbrushes. Some will use bioptics or monoculars when going to the theater instead of sitting close to the screen, or they might do both, or neither and will just listen. Some will use canes, some will use service dogs, some will use neither, or might prefer a sighted guide.

There are...so many ways a blind person might choose to make their life accessible. And we do not always agree with each other on what is best, because we do not all have the same eyes. Nor do we have the same ears, or hands, or feet. We are varied and complex and we disagree sometimes and come together other times and we discuss amongst ourselves on how to make things better for our community and we confer with other communities on how we help ourselves and help each other. We are not all the same. We are not all the same. We are not all the same.

If you want an answer for what is the One Agreeable accessibility feature for blind people: there isn't one. So just talk to us, instead. Get to know how we vary, how we relate, how you can best help one of us and how you might best help another. I'm sure we'd be happy to tell you what works best for us individually if you ask. And if we wouldn't, then that's ok. Sometimes we gotta figure things out on our own first before we can explain it to others. Either way, never stop asking. Because accessibility is always evolving, and someone is always going to have a different answer to the same question.

You can't get accessibility wrong if you're just willing to try. So keep trying.

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bagopucks · 2 months

Text

J. Drysdale - Blind Dating

✄————————————

Jamie Drysdale x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning(s): alcohol consumption.

The end is pretty fast paced but I’m considering making a part two if enough people like this!

—————————————

This had to be a joke.

I tapped my foot impatiently against the floor beneath the table. Watching the man across from me fidget with his menu, peeking over it occasionally with a wide grin to ask some sort of question. Was he five? His hair was parted down the middle, looking as if it was still drying from a shower. He had wide blue eyes.. doe eyes, warm and welcoming compared to my scowl. He was handsome, but I couldn’t get past his behavior.

“What do you think you’re gonna get?” His voice was soft, but curious. I wanted to reply with, ‘whatever I can finish the quickest to get out of here,’ but I held my tongue. “The shrimp Alfredo looks really good.. I’m just afraid it won’t taste the same.” I would admit he was mostly talking to himself. I wasn’t being very open. But his statement piqued my interest.

“The same as what?”

“I used to live in California, right next to the beach. All of the seafood was so fresh.” I watched his broad shoulders rise and fall in a shrug.

“That’s nice.” I looked down at the glass of water I held between my hands. This man was not very impressive. Nor did he seem overly confident. Or confident at all.

Could he sense my distaste?

“You can get something other than water.. I don’t want you to feel like you need to save my money.” His words brought a good reminder as to why I hadn’t walked out already. He was covering the whole meal.

“Thanks, but I’m avoiding much else at the moment.” I spoke, watching his big blue eyes look back up from the menu.

The fact that the man had been late was probably the driving factor that made me not want to give him a chance. I was never one to take to people who had a bad internal clock.

“So.. what do you do for a job?”

“I’m a journalist.” I answered his question briefly, my eyes wandering toward the window by our table.

“Nice! You must be pretty smart then.” An awkward chuckle fell from his lips. “I’d say I was okay in school.. but I never went to college. Just wasn’t my thing.”

“It’s not for everybody.” I shrugged, watching cars pull into the lot of the restaurant.

“Is this the first time you’ve done the whole.. blind dating thing?”

“No.”

“Oh.. this is my first time. I gotta admit I’m pretty nervous.”

“You don’t say,” the sarcastic phrase slipped ruthlessly from my lips. My gaze returned to the man to assess the damage, a momentary empathy filling my gaze. He simply chuckled again.

“I know.. my best friend always says I’m easy to read.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized softly, leaning back in my seat.

“It’s okay.. I get it. I can imagine I’m the last person you expected to show up..” his voice trailed off into silence before he shrugged once more. “You are very pretty.”

Finally. A compliment. I smiled. He seemed to loosen up slightly at the sight. I had been raised on the ideal of returning a compliment with a compliment, so I indulged his words kindly.

“Thank you, Jamie. I’ll admit you have beautiful eyes.” I watched his cheeks flush, my disinterest morphing quickly into a twinge of attraction. He was cute when he blushed.

“Thanks..” he whispered before his head seemed to duck behind the wall that was his menu again. What was once annoying slowly turned into amusing. Maybe I could cut him some slack. “Do you have any idea what you want?” He asked once more.

“I really love clams.” I glanced down at my own menu, at the item I had picked out the moment we entered the building. This was one of my favorite restaurants.

“Ew,” I heard Jamie mumble from the safety of his side of the table. My brow furrowed.

“You don’t like clams?” I leaned forward.

“Never had them.”

“Then how can you hate them?” I quickly reached out to pull his menu down, catching Jamie off guard. He immediately sat up. For the first time since he sat down, he was exposed, having to sit with no barrier between us. I refused to believe someone as beautiful as him had confidence issues.

“They look gross.” Jamie reasoned with a nervous grin.

“You’re trying one.” I demanded, smirking and folding my arms across my chest.

“Absolutely not.” I drew in a breath to insist before our conversation was cut short. Our waitress waltzed by with a grin, pulling a notepad from her apron as she greeted us kindly, informing us of the specials and the house alcohols.

“What can I get you two?” She glanced between the two of us, and Jamie’s eyes settled on me as a silent signal to go first.

“Can I get the garlic butter clams with a side of fries?” The woman nodded kindly and jotted down the order before turning to Jamie, who happily requested his own meal.

“Shrimp Alfredo and a side salad with Italian dressing?”

“Anything else for the two of you?”

“Can we get a bottle of wine?” I asked swiftly, “not too expensive, but whatever you think is best.” I had told Jamie I didn’t need anything other than water, but he certainly needed to loosen up. Wine was always a good way to take the edge off.

“Of course. I’ll be right back with that!” The waitress gathered our menus and swiftly turned to leave. My eyes settled on Jamie.

“I hope you don’t mind,” I spoke.

“I don’t mind at all.” He smiled, “as long as you share.” Though it wasn’t the best of jokes, his attempt still made me chuckle.

“Why are you so nervous, Jamie?” I folded my arms atop of one another on the table, leaning forward against them,

“Oh god… where to start?” He laughed at himself, reaching upwards to brush his hair back. “Well first of all I was late… which really wasn’t my fault, and I’m sorry. I had to- stay over time at my job. Then I had to run home and grab a shower real quick. It threw off my whole plan. Then I came here and find you sitting all alone- and I just felt bad. But you look- like.. amazing. I feel like I could have dressed a little nicer. And you’re kinda intimidating. When I lived in California I usually had a wingman, now I’m flying solo.. it’s kinda scary. Not to mention I’m new to this whole area. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to go on a date so soon,” he seemed amused by his own misfortunes. A nice refreshing attitude to the usual of people whining and complaining. He drew in a deep breath only to sigh. “It’s been a long day, and I really didn’t want to mess this up. I still don’t.” It was the only explanation I needed. The judgement was lifted from my shoulders fairly quickly.

“It’s okay.. you haven’t messed anything up yet.” Less than minutes ago I would have had a different response. “Hopefully this wine’ll take the edge off too, yeah?” I watched Jamie’s anxieties melt away, nodding with a wide grin.

“Yeah.. that would be amazing.”

And it certainly was. The minute the wine came Jamie and I dove in. We opened up far more, and I learned a lot about the man in front of myself. He told jokes, he spoke about what he loved and what he was passionate about, and he asked a million questions about me. When our food came the conversation slowed but it didn’t stop. I was taken with his smile, his glow, his tentativeness. And just like he promised, when we finished eating, he paid for everything. I hadn’t planned on spending any more time than necessary with the man, at least not at first. But I’d admit the turn of events made me sad to think of the fact that I’d have to say goodbye. Or would I?

“I had an amazing night,” Jamie spoke as he stood from his chair, grabbing his coat off the back of it.

“I did too.. but it’s not over yet.” I watched his brow rise in surprise as I stood too. “We have one more stop.” I walked around the table and reached for him. Jamie had no problem with letting me take hid hand. We walked side by side out of the restaurant, and he made sure to hold the door for me. “We should get an Uber,” I suggested, reaching for my phone. Though Jamie was quick to argue.

“No, they take too long. I’ll call a friend.” We sat down beside one another on the bench outside of the building. I leaned into Jamie’s side for warmth, and he was swift to wrap his arm around me while he dialed a number on his phone.

“Hey…”

I tuned out the conversation as I watched cars drive in and out of the lot. I relished in Jamie’s warmth, though I also told myself I was crazy for giving in to him so easily. I usually wasn’t into men like him. But he was certainly an exception.

“My friend said he’ll be over in five minutes.” I nodded as Jamie spoke.

“That’s pretty fast.”

“He’s really supportive.” Jamie laughed softly. “Where are we headed?”

“Cant say.”

“As long as you don’t axe murder me.” I rolled my eyes and laughed at the brunette’s words.

“You’re safe with me, Jamie.”

“That’s good.” I looked up at him, only to find him staring back. His blue eyes held questions I couldn’t decipher.

“What?” I finally asked, breaking the silence and recognizing the closeness.

“Nothing,” he whispered. “Nothing at all.” I smiled at his words. “You’re very pretty.” My heart fluttered and I looked away.

“Jamie,” I scolded, not wanting to be flustered.

“I’m serious,” he insisted with a giggle. I felt a cold hand touch the side of my neck as he moved my hair. I shivered. “Your beauty is more intimidating than your scowl.” He teased, causing my head to whip back in his direction. I swatted the man’s chest, laughing along with him as he found humor in his own joke.

“You’re mean,” I pouted.

“Please tell me where we’re going.” I laughed, watching his baby blues adopt a puppy dog stare.

“No way. Quit asking.” I pushed myself away from him, only to have him snatch my arm and pull me right back. I laughed, standing to try and get away before he followed suit. Jamie scooped me up into his arms, holding my back against his chest. All I could focus on was his beautiful laughter.

“Please-“ the honk of a horn cut him off. We both looked to see a bright red truck pulling up to the entrance of the building. “Oh wow.. that was fast,” Jamie mumbled before releasing me. He walked to the edge of the sidewalk and opened the back door of the truck. “Ladies first.” He held my hand as I stepped up into the vehicle, and Jamie was quick to follow suit.

“Seems like this date’s going well.” The man in the front seat turned to look at us. “Where are we headed?” I stood up and leaned over the middle console to speak with the man. We eventually settled on typing the address of the location into his phone before I fell back into my seat. The man let out a long whistle that I could tell intrigued Jamie. “Seems like this date is going really well.” The man teased.

“Where are you taking me?” Jamie insisted on asking. I ignored his question, and each one that followed for the entirety of the ride. His focus shifted from myself to the scenery out the window when he noticed we were leaving the city. It wasn’t a long drive, but it was far enough out of the suburbs to be intriguing. We crossed a few bridges, and found ourselves in the midst of a riverside neighborhood before Jamie started to put two and two together. The calm, ‘you have arrived’ of the GPS caused him to look back at me.

“Is this your house?”

“Surprise?” I pushed the car door open and slipped out. “Join me.” It wasn’t a demand. More so a request. Jamie had no issue saying yes. He followed me out of the car.

“Be safe!” The man in the truck called.

“Thanks Ty!” Jamie waved as his friend left, and I was quick to begin rummaging through my clutch for my house keys.

“You live on the river?”

“Wait ‘till you see my back deck.” I guided him to the front door, opening the glass door and unlocking the deadbolt of the actual door. I stepped inside and kicked my flats off as Jamie followed, toeing off his dress shoes. My home was a patchwork of decor. My walls were lined with a fresh yet old looking floral wallpaper, I had China cabinets full of old glassware my grandparents had passed down to me. Somewhere I had knitted quilts and a shelf full of inherited thymbols. The scent of fresh flowers was the leading smell in the home, and Jamie was quick to find the source of that scent as I closed the door. I turned to find him sniffing the pot full of dahlias seated on a stand by the window next to the door.

Why had I never been into men like this before? Whatever uncertainties I had about bringing him home slowly melted away.

“Want anything to drink?” I asked softly, catching his attention.

“What do you have?”

“Fresh iced tea, pop, water.”

“Tea would be nice.” Jamie followed me into the kitchen, taking in the decor as I poured two glasses of tea. When I was done I led him out of the kitchen and into the dining room, giving him his cup. I walked past the table, opening the sliding glass doors to the back deck that stretched out over the riverbank. The fairy lights strung on the roof of the deck glowed in a comforting way. I opened the window next to the glass door where my record player sat.

“You have a beautiful home,” Jamie spoke softly while I searched for a record. I found one and set it up to play before turning the device on.

“Thank you. I don’t like too many modern things.” I stepped outside with Jamie, and sat down on the swing at the edge of the deck. Jamie sat with me.

“Is there a reason you brought me here?”

“It’s private. Intimate.” I shrugged, eyes settling on the river.

“You trust me?”

“Asks the man who hid behind his menu when he sat down. I’d say there isn’t much to be cautious of.” I teased, laughing softly. I turned to face him, draping my legs over his own and leaning my back against one of the arm rests of the swing. “I don’t like to bring men home.” I admitted before taking a sip of my tea. “But that’s because many of them aren’t like you.”

“Thanks?”

“You’re more than welcome to stay the night.” I peeked at him, watching his lips turn upwards into a smile. “I’d hate to make your friend drive back out here this evening.”

“That’s the only reason?” Jamie asked teasingly, resting his free hand on my shin. I laughed.

“Maybe I have more.. but they’re secrets.” I shrugged. “Let’s just say it was a good first date.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale #ella’s updates #trevor zegras

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venusgirltarot · 9 months

Text

What Would A Relationship Between You and Your Celebrity Crush Be Like? ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

Close your eyes, take a deep breath, envision the person you are thinking of and then choose the pile(s) you feel most drawn to.

If you would like a personal reading from me, you can get one here!

Deck Used: The Cosmic Slumber Tarot

Pile 1 ༣

Cards: seven of swords, death, seven of pentacles, temperance, three of torches, the chariot, two of swords, eight of pentacles

So I won’t lie, pile one, I think being in a relationship with your celebrity crush could become a very dark and difficult period of your life. This period of time would be temporary but still very difficult nonetheless.

The relationship would start out private, a secret kept between the two of you and only known to those closest to you. You’re very protective of it as a couple and want to spend the first few months of your relationship together without the general public knowing about it or being involved. The connection you would have would be incredibly strong and very very deep. You connect very deeply with this person and you have a very loving and healthy relationship. The type of relationship where you’re like best friends but also make a really good couple.

The struggles you face will start when this relationship is announced to the public. I don’t think it would be leaked or announced before you’re ready, the two of you decide together that it’s time and you meet with your respective teams and come up with a statement and plan to have an article released.

In this scenario where you are with your celebrity crush, I see you being somewhat famous yourself. I think your crush is either an A-List and well known celebrity or someone with a a very large and dedicated fan base or possibly both but no matter what, they do have a much bigger fan base/platform than you do. You may just be starting out in the industry and making a name for yourself and you do have a fan base but it’s much smaller. Your celebrity crush’s fans may be known for being obsessive or slightly out of control and this is something the two of you have in mind when announcing this relationship.

Despite being prepared, I don’t think either of you will be fully prepared for the true outcome of this announcement. There would be a lot of unnecessary hate and possibly even hate towards your friends/family. People trying to dig into your past, blind items about you from people claiming to have grown up with you or known you at some point in your life saying things about you that you know aren’t true but your crush’s fan base takes these blind items and uses them as a reason to hate you due to their own jealousy. I heard “it really spirals out of control”.

You won’t say anything. I think you’d take this time to focus on yourself and surround yourself with people that love and care about you and truly know you for who you are and not for some blind item from an unknown internet user that has never met you before. You crush would really care for you during this time. They’d be very attentive and take time to communicate and support you emotionally. I heard “we’ll get through it together” they refuse to let you isolate yourself or go through this alone, the two of you may attend therapy together to process and work through this difficult time together. You may also buy a home in one of your home towns or some place that’s comfortable and familiar to you.

You choose not to speak out because you feel it’s not what’s best and you know it would add fuel to an already uncontrollable fire. You encourage your crush to do the same but eventually I do believe they’ll make a statement. Fans may possibly be using your crush’s lack of defense of you as another reason to hate on you and the general public may see it as your crush being a bad partner and it may put them in a bad light in the eyes of the general public. I think a lot of the general public will see this as a rabid fan base going after a celebrity’s partner without any reason but a small portion may only know you from blind items or fan rumors they hear which may but you in a bad light in their eyes. However, you crush’s statement will be a well written and planned out statement that will bring in way more support for you from the general public, but I don’t think it will do much in terms of the fan base and their opinion.

I do think this will change, though. Over time, after ignoring and not commenting on this hate and continuing to build and further your career, I think a lot of fans will start to like you and the general public will really love you. After time has passed, I think you’ll come out with a documentary and a portion of that documentary will document or talk about this portion of your life and how the hate was detrimental to your mental health and put you in this very dark and difficult place and it will also show more of you and your crush’s relationship and how close the two of you are and how good you are as a couple. You really will become like an “it” couple for people and they’ll see you as perfect for each other.

Allowing people to know more about you on a personal level and see you for who you truly are will completely change the narrative and you’ll be loved by not only the general public but also your crush’s fan base and you’ll grow your own fan base, as well. I heard “your story in your words” this dark period will have also given you a much thicker skin and really strengthened your relationship with your celebrity crush and after years of saying and posting nothing about each other, you can finally share more about your relationship and not have to hide it so much.

Pile 2 ༣

Cards: two of cups, six of pentacles, the hierophant, king of torches, the high priestess, king of cups, three of torches king of swords, princess of torches

I think you and your celebrity crush would have such a cute relationship 🥺 I think you’d be some sort of influencer or model? Someone that people look up to for fashion, skin care, beauty tips, etc. you’d be the type to be in one of those vogue grwm or skin care videos. You may also have had a difficult life/upbringing that you’re open/vulnerable about online and people really love to hear about your story and find you very inspiring. People also love the way you speak or write. The way you articulate and word things is very powerful and intriguing and it makes people want to listen to what you have to say. A lot of people on social media would have a very parental or older sibling sort of view of you, seeing you as a mentor and looking to you for guidance and advice.

Your celebrity crush’s fans would absolutely adore you. You may be known for interacting with/being kind to fans. I heard “they see you as an angel” 🥺 there would be so much public support for you and your celebrity crush’s relationship. I also think the two of you could travel a lot, specifically to Italy? And you’d be photographed out together holding hands and your street style would be posted a lot and used as inspiration. I think a lot of people follow/like you for your street style. You’d be known for the way you dress and also the way you carry yourself and how you take care of yourself. If you were seen using/wearing some sort of product, it would sell out very quickly because so many people follow what you do and replicate it. You have a very “it” person sort of vibe that people are attracted to.

You and your celebrity crush would have a private but not secret sort of relationship that people would love posting/talking about. It sort of reminds me of Tom Holland and Zendaya. People just love you two together and are really rooting for you. A lot of your relationship seems to be based around travel, exploring the world together. If your celebrity crush is a musician/writer, they’ll write a lot about you and fans will love to dissect lyrics about you and make deep dive posts about the parallels.

You and your celebrity crush would enjoy nature together. Sunlight and early mornings, cooking breakfast together and reading books together. Sitting at the table at dinner time and talking about your days. You’d really enjoy the everyday mundane things. I heard “mom and dad” and earlier in the reading I heard “mother is mothering” 😭 so fans may say these things about you a lot on social media. You and your celebrity crush wouldn’t pay much mind to social media or what’s being said. I heard “your main focus is each other” and “you’re not concerned with what the rest of the world of thinks” you can easily shut it all out and focus on the here and now. You have such a loving, well rounded relationship and a really good support system around you.

If you were drawn to both piles 1 and 2, this pile can be what your life with your celebrity crush is like after overcoming the difficult period described in pile 1. I just felt really strongly that some of my pile 1s were also attracted to this group and I figured some of you would be confused since there’s such a stark contrast in the two piles and wanted to provide some insight for those who need it. If you didn’t feel drawn to the other pile or haven’t already read it, don’t worry about it. That pile may not be for you and that’s perfectly fine :)

Pile 3 ༣

This pile does have 18+ messages. Because of the energy in this pile and the overall relationship spoken about in this pile, there was simply no way for me to do it without making it 18+ and I’m so sorry if that’s not what you’re looking for.

Also, as usual, my 18+ readings are not for minors so please do not read this pile if you are under 18 years of age, this reading is not for you.

Cards: ten of pentacles, king of cups, ace of pentacles, six of pentacles, death, justice, two of pentacles, two of cups, ten of torches ace of cups princess of swords

Pile 3, you may or may not be a Pedro Pascal girly (I mean girly in a gender neutral way. Anyone can be a girly) but that’s definitely the vibe I’m getting. Your celebrity crush is an older male and definitely an actor. I got musician vibes from the other two piles but this is 100% an actor and I think you’d meet them because you would also be an actor.

For a select few of you, your celebrity crush might be David Harbour but for most of you, it’s definitely Pedro Pascal. For some it’s Jamie Campbell Bower. I had to google him cause I didn’t know his name but an image of him kept popping up in my head. He’s only 34 so not as old as David or Pedro but for those of you 18-25 that’s still most definitely an age gap. Mostly Pedro Pascal energy tho.

I’m terribly sorry, Pile 3, but you would not have a healthy, long term relationship with your celebrity crush. However, it would be the most passionate and intense relationship you’d ever have. I think you’d meet on the set of some movie you’re both in and have a very intense and messy, although short lived romance. The sex would be intense and passionate but so would the fights but the makeup sex after the fights would be the best you’d ever have in your entire life. There seems to be an issue with you wanting more and this person person wanting a strictly sexual relationship.

I think I’ve seen somewhere that Pedro Pascal had said he doesn’t do relationships because they hurt too much or something like that and so he prefers to just stay single and this situation definitely gives me those vibes and that’s where a lot of the conflict would come from. You would know that this person feels all the same things you do but they’re fine with just channeling those feelings into the sex the two of you have (which would be what made it so good) while you want to channel it into a relationship and have something long term and stable with this person and it causes a lot of very heated arguments. You can’t stay away from each other though so these arguments never last long.

You’d spend a lot of time trying to make this person jealous or wishing they’d just accept their feelings and pursue a relationship with you however if they did, I think you’d get bored. The passion and intensity is what makes this relationship worth while for both of you and without it you’d just get tired of them and lose interest. You’d need the intense fights and passion makeup sex to make this relationship work and I think your celebrity crush would know that. They may even tell you that you just don’t understand because you’re younger than them and there’s a maturity difference and that would drive you insane. This relationship reminds me a lot of “illicit affairs” by Taylor Swift and I also heard All Too Well (10 Minute Version) when I was shuffling.

There may be blind items/rumors about this relationship because it will be very known on set. People may even hear the two do you fighting (or partaking in other activities 👀) from outside of your trailers. It will definitely be a big topic of gossip on set and online for awhile but nothing with ever be confirmed by anyone publicly and it will live on as a rumor.

Eventually, filming would end and I think this relationship would end with it but you’d spend a long time hung up on this person and still trying to do things to get their attention or make them jealous, long after the two of you are no longer in contact. “Question…?” By Taylor Swift is also playing in my head right now. Specifically the lyric “I don’t remember who I was before you painted all my nights a color I have searched for since” and the lyric “I wake with your memory over me, that’s a real fucking legacy to leave” from Maroon. This relationship would have a huge impact on you and linger in your mind for a very long time, possibly even years. They would always be your “what if” person and the thought of what could have been would haunt you late at night, years and years after it’s ended.

I hope this reading has brought you some sort of peace, clarification, or happiness! Feedback is always appreciated :) have a good day or night. Sending you love and light!

Mara ࿐ྂ

#free tarot readings #free readings #tarotblr #tarot cards #tarot reader #tarot related #pac reading #tarot requests #collective reading #spirituality #celebrity tarot #celebrity crush #tarot #pick a card #pac #pick a card reading #pick a picture #pick a pile #pedro pascal

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